#frogs are not heat resistant

[rydrake6]

Is anyone gonna get that frog out of the frying pan, or are we gonna just let him boil to death?

[brunchable]

How To Impress a 21st Century Girl.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Themes: Rom-Com, Fluff, Mutual Pining(Heavy?), First Date, Flirtation and Playfulness.

Summary: Sam had forced Bucky to use Tinder to solve his abysmal love life. Bucky tells himself that if third time isn't a charm, he will officially give up trying to find a partner.

A/N: I'm a sucker for rom-coms, I hope you guys enjoyed this because I enjoyed writing it.

tags: @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917

It had all been Sam’s idea. "Come on, man. You need to get back out there!" Sam had said, way too enthusiastically, while setting up a Tinder profile for him without even asking. Bucky had resisted at first, arguing that dating apps probably weren't his thing. But Sam was persistent, reminding him that it was 2024, not 1944, and that "no one meets in grocery stores anymore."

Reluctantly, Bucky had gone along with it, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try. What was the worst that could happen?

Well, now he knew.

Bucky was starting to think Tinder was out to get him. His first two dates had been disasters—and not just normal awkwardness, but spectacularly bad. The first girl, Jenny, had brought her ex-boyfriend to the date. Apparently, he was her ride, and they were still "good friends." Bucky had spent two hours third-wheeling a reunion he hadn’t signed up for. The second girl, Alicia, had a collection of ceramic frogs. And when Bucky said “collection,” he meant obsession. The girl spent an entire dinner showing him photos of different frog figurines. It was ribbiting. Literally. One of them even made croaking sounds.

So, now here he was, on date number three, standing outside some trendy café, wondering what fresh nightmare awaited him. This time, though, he’d let you plan the date. Maybe handing over control would be better than having to smile through another amphibian-themed dinner.

You showed up right on time, and Bucky was genuinely relieved to see no ex-boyfriend hovering in the background. You were wearing a paneled knit dress with spaghetti straps that hugged you just right, and your short hair was perfectly tousled. You smiled at him, but the look on your face told him you were just as unsure as he was.

“Hi,” you greeted, and Bucky instantly forgot every single normal response. Holy shit he is TALL.

“Hey, I’m Bucky.” he mumbled back. He was really nailing this whole dating thing.

You walked inside, and the café had that minimalist vibe. A lot of plants. A lot of exposed brick. The kind of place where you’re not sure if you’re supposed to sit or admire the interior design.

As you both sat down, Bucky tried to channel his inner suave. He could do this. He had faced way worse than an awkward date. Like alien invasions. Like that one time he lost his arm again. This was nothing.

Except... why was talking to an attractive woman harder than fighting off super soldiers?

“I, uh, like your dress,” Bucky said, already feeling the heat creep up his neck. Nice, Barnes, real original.

“Thanks,” you replied, with an amused smile playing on your lips. “I like your... jacket.”

Bucky nodded, looking down at his worn leather jacket. “Yeah. It’s... warm.”

Warm? That’s what you’re going with? He mentally slapped himself. This was going well. So well. He tried to change the subject and scanned the menu. “Uh... so, what’s good here?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “The internet said they have good coffee, though.”

“Internet reviews, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s always a gamble. Could be great... could be a disaster.”

Cue the awkward silence.

The waiter had barely placed the food in front of you both before the quiet tension stretched between you like you were sitting in a library, not a café. Bucky poked at his bagel as if it might come to life at any moment, while you took a delicate sip of your coffee, your eyes darting between him and the wall behind him.

You both chewed in the most nonchalant way possible, each of you hyper-aware of the silence that was growing louder by the second. You were mentally cursing every decision that led to this exact moment, and Bucky, for his part, was questioning whether retiring from the whole Avenger thing had been a mistake.

Say something. Anything, Bucky thought, taking another bite of his bagel, which suddenly felt like chewing rubber. Ask about herr favorite food? No, that’s boring. Comment on the weather? Oh, yeah, nothing like ‘Hey, it’s been cold lately,’ to really sweep her off her feet. Real smooth.

Meanwhile, you were trying to figure out how you managed to forget how to make normal conversation. Maybe ask him about his hobbies? No, that’s basic. Compliment his hair? What are you, in fifth grade? Pull yourself together!

Bucky, still chewing the world’s driest bagel, caught your eye for a split second, and you both did that polite half-smile thing that happens when you’re not sure whether you should talk or continue pretending to enjoy the food.

Did she just smile at me because I’m being awkward, or am I overthinking this? Bucky wondered, immediately breaking eye contact and pretending his coffee was the most fascinating thing on the table.

You, on the other hand, were screaming internally. Oh God, did I smile too weird? Was it the kind of smile that says, ‘I like you,’ or the one that says, ‘I’m trapped in this date and don’t know how to escape’?

You both took another sip of your drinks at the exact same time.

Alright, Barnes, get it together. Say something smart, Bucky told himself, putting his mug down carefully.

“So, uh... how’s your coffee?”

You blinked, your brain scrambling for a response. How’s my coffee? It’s coffee. Just say it’s good. Don’t overthink it.

“It’s... good. How’s your bagel?”

Bucky looked down at the circular piece of bread like it had personally betrayed him. “It’s... round.”

Round? Really? You went with ‘round’? Smooth, real smooth, he chastised himself, nodding like he had just made the most profound statement about bagels ever.

Your lips twitched. Did he just describe his food as ‘round’? Okay, maybe I’m not the only one struggling here.

You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide your smile. God, this is like watching two middle schoolers on a first date.

You both glanced at each other again. Smile. Look away. Silence.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Alright, clearly, she thinks I’m a complete idiot. But it’s fine. I can recover. Just... find a topic. Literally any topic.

You picked at your napkin. Okay, maybe I should mention the escape room next. But what if he hates escape rooms? What if he thinks they’re boring? You cleared your throat slightly, ready to speak, but then—

Bucky cleared his throat at the same time. You both froze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.

“You go first,” Bucky said quickly.

“No, no, you first,” you insisted, waving your hand.

Bucky’s brain blanked. He blinked, searching for anything to say. “Uh... did you... park nearby?”

You stared at him, and then a smile slowly spread across your face. Did he really just ask me about parking? You nodded. “No I–um took public transport. Did you?”

Bucky gave a stiff nod. “Yeah. Close. Very close. Super convenient.”

You both stared at each other for a beat, and then, in a miraculous moment, you both cracked up at the exact same time.

“Parking?” you laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the best we’ve got?”

Bucky held up his hands. “Hey, I panicked, okay? The bagel threw me off.”

You wiped a tear from your eye, your shoulders shaking with laughter. “And I thought the frogs were bad.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh harder. “Okay, in my defense, this date is way better than ceramic frogs.”

“Glad to be the non-frog date.” You raised your cup in mock salute.

You both chuckled, and for the first time, the awkward tension seemed to melt away. Sure, you were a bit of a mess, but at least you were a mess together.

As you calmed down, you leaned forward, a playful grin on your face. “So, what’s next? You ready for the escape room?”

“I dunno. Should I be worried?” Bucky smirked, feeling a lot lighter.

“Only if you’re bad at puzzles,” you teased.

Bucky crossed his arms, leaning back with a smirk. “Oh, trust me, I think I’ll manage.”

And with that, you both finally stood up to head for the next part of your date, the awkwardness left behind with the round bagel and the overly complicated coffee.

× × × ×

As soon as you stepped into the Asylum escape room, the mood shifted from "awkward first date" to "this might be how I die."

Oh, great. Creepy hospital décor. Perfect first-date vibes. You eyed the flickering lights and eerie medical tools scattered around the room, trying not to let on how much it was creeping you out. At least it’s better than ceramic frogs, you thought, glancing at Bucky.

“This is supposed to be the hardest escape room they have,” you said, glancing at Bucky. “Takes most people at least an hour. You ready for this?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean... it’s puzzles, right? How hard can it be?” Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calm. I’ve literally fought aliens. How bad could a few puzzles be?

“You’ve never done one of these before, right?” You looked at him, a bit skeptical.

He shook his head. “First time. But, uh... I’m good under pressure.” Under pressure? What am I saying? I sound like I’m about to defuse a bomb, not solve a riddle. Get a grip, Barnes.

“Alright. Let’s do this.” You smiled, trying to hide your own nerves. 

The clock started ticking, and immediately, you were plunged into darkness. A loud creak echoed through the room, followed by a voice over the intercom: “Welcome to the Asylum. You have 60 minutes to escape. Good luck... you’ll need it.”

Perfect. Creepy voice? Check. Flickering lights? Check. Yep, I'm doomed. You moved toward a stack of papers, squinting at the dim lighting. “Okay, first thing’s first... we need to find the clues hidden in this room to unlock the door.”

Before you could even start, Bucky was already inspecting a random pipe on the wall. He tugged at it, and it came loose, revealing a hidden key taped to the back. Oh, that was... lucky? Or did I just break something?

You froze mid-step. “Wait. How did you—”

“I... uh... just pulled on it.” Bucky looked just as surprised as you. Did I just accidentally solve this?

“Okay. Lucky guess.” You stared at him. 

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe.” Play it cool, Barnes. Don't look like you’re clueless here.

You both moved into the next room, which had even creepier décor. Faint writing on the walls, jars filled with unidentifiable things, and a mannequin in the corner that Bucky immediately side-eyed like it was going to jump out at you. Okay, I don’t trust that mannequin. Why’s it looking at me like that?

You picked up a piece of paper with some cryptic writing on it. “This says something about finding the light within the dark. I think it’s a clue. We need to—”

“Found it,” Bucky called out.

You turned to see him holding up a blacklight. How does he keep doing this?! 

“They always hide something with a blacklight, right?” He grinned, flashing the light on the wall, revealing a series of glowing numbers. That’s a thing, right? People hide stuff with these lights all the time... right?

“Oh, you’re just full of ideas now, huh?” You crossed your arms, smirking.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. “Just... using my instincts.” Yep. Totally knew that.

You worked through the next few puzzles, but by "worked," what you really meant was Bucky accidentally stumbling into the solutions. Every time you tried to figure out a clue, Bucky would casually touch something, pull a lever, or press a random button that—surprise—opened the next door or revealed the next key. At first, you thought he was joking. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear: Bucky was somehow solving the escape room by sheer dumb luck—or so you thought.

This is starting to freak me out... Am I secretly a genius? Bucky thought.

At one point, you were trying to decipher a complicated code etched into the wall, mumbling to yourself about numerology and patterns, when Bucky—completely oblivious—pulled a book off the shelf, and a hidden door creaked open in the floor.

No. No way. “Are you—” You blinked. “Did you just—”

Bucky glanced at the open trapdoor, confused. “What? Was that not supposed to happen?”

You slapped your forehead. “No! I mean, yes, but—oh my God, Bucky, you’re breaking the game.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose!” Seriously, I just touched a book. How is that a thing?

You looked down at the trapdoor, then back at him. “What are you? A puzzle savant? Did you plan this?”

Bucky laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Nah, I just thought the book looked weird.” Great, now she thinks I’m some kind of escape room wizard.

You gaped at him. “The book looked weird?” Weird? Dude, I’m starting to think you have X-ray vision.

“I mean... yeah. It was dusty.” It wasn’t even that weird... or was it?

You squinted at him, hands on your hips. “You’re telling me you spotted a dusty book and thought, ‘Aha! Hidden door.’?”

“Isn’t that... what you’re supposed to do in these rooms?” Bucky shrugged, looking genuinely sorry. Please tell me that's how this works.

This man is unbelievable. You stared at him for a long moment before bursting out laughing. “Oh my God. You’re accidentally good at this. You’re just walking around solving stuff like you do this every weekend!”

Bucky chuckled, his shoulders relaxing a little. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m glad she’s laughing. “I swear I’ve never done this before.” This isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me this week.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified,” you teased, stepping closer to him. “You’re like a walking cheat code.” Sure, Sherlock. Whatever you say.

“Hey, I’m just here to help.” He smiled, clearly enjoying your reaction. At least she’s impressed. That’s something.

I think you might secretly be a robot. You shook your head, grinning. “Alright, escape room prodigy, let’s see if you can crack the last one.”

You entered the final room—a dimly lit chamber with a creepy-looking mannequin in the corner and random medical equipment scattered around. You narrowed your eyes.

“Okay, this is the hardest part. No way you’re going to just... guess your way out of this one.”

“Yeah, this one’s. . . tricky.” Bucky glanced around, clearly trying to look casual. Please don’t let me stumble into the solution again... 

Please don’t let him find the solution immediately. Just this once.

You pointed at the mannequin. “We need to find a code hidden somewhere in this room. The clue says it’s ‘locked in the mind.’ So it has to be something mental, right? Like a puzzle?”

Bucky stared at the mannequin for a second, then slowly reached out and twisted its head off. Inside, there was a slip of paper with the code on it. Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Are you KIDDING me?!” Your jaw dropped. 

“I just thought... you know... maybe the head comes off?” Bucky held up the paper, looking sheepish. 

Why am I even here?! You threw your hands up in the air. “Of COURSE the head comes off! Because that makes total sense! Sure!”

Bucky bit back a laugh. “Well, it did say ‘locked in the mind.’” Technically, I was right.

You glared at him, then shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “Okay, that’s it. You’re banned from escape rooms. You ruin them.”

“Ruined it?” Bucky asked, grinning. “We escaped, didn’t we?” She’s totally impressed, even if she won’t admit it.

“We escaped in twelve minutes, Bucky! Twelve!” You slapped his arm playfully. “That’s not normal!”

He laughed, ducking his head. “Sorry?” Guess I’m not so bad at this ‘fun date’ thing.

As you both stepped out of the escape room, the staff was standing there, looking like they’d just witnessed the impossible.

“You’re... done?” Pink-haired Girl asked, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Wow. They look like I just told them Santa isn’t real, Bucky thought.

You, just as confused, looked over at Bucky. “Uh. . .yeah, I guess?”

“Looks like it.” Bucky gave a casual shrug. No big deal. Just casually shattering dreams.

Clipboard Guy checked his stopwatch again, his mouth hanging open. “Twelve minutes. No. That’s not possible. People are supposed to break down in there. We’ve had people cry!”

Cry? What is this, an escape room or emotional boot camp? “You want me to go back in and tear up a little? You know, for the full experience?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“People have left that room emotionally damaged. You just... strolled out.” Pink-haired Girl blinked. 

You stared at Bucky, still wrapping your head around it. “I didn’t even get through the first clue, and you were already unlocking half the room.”

“You were working hard. I just sped things up a bit.” Bucky chuckled softly, glancing at you with a playful smile. I mean, you were giving it a solid effort...

The Master of Puzzles guy appeared, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Did you... have the answers beforehand? Because that’s the hardest room we’ve got. We’ve had people rage-quit in there.”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, looking amused. “Nah, just good at finding my way out of things.”

“I didn’t even do anything. You solved the whole thing!” You shook your head, still half-laughing, half in disbelief.

“Hey, you were a great moral support.” Bucky smiled at you, nudging you lightly. Seriously, though, it’s good to have someone to watch while I dismantle a room’s dignity.

Clipboard Guy muttered, “We’re gonna have to ban him. He’s banned.”

Oh no, I’ve ruined their sacred puzzle temple.

“He broke the hardest room we’ve got. Who even does that?” Pink-haired Girl nodded, still dumbfounded. 

“Well, I’d offer to go back and struggle a bit, but... I don’t think it’d be convincing.” Bucky smirked, leaning casually against the counter. Trust me, I can’t fake being bad at something. Even if I tried.

As you headed for the exit, Bucky held the door open for you, giving the staff one last glance before he leaned over to you, voice low. 

“What? You wanted to be stuck in there all night?”

“Honestly? It would’ve been nice to solve at least one puzzle.” You groaned, though you were smiling.

“Next time, I’ll let you have the first clue. Promise.” Bucky chuckled softly. And by let you, I mean I’ll stand far away from everything and try not to accidentally win.

 “You better.” You laughed, shaking your head as you both stepped out into the night.

× × × ×

The arcade was buzzing with lights, sounds, and the faint scent of popcorn. It was a complete shift from the eerie asylum escape room, and you were already eyeing the rows of flashing machines and claw games with glee.

Alright, this is more like it. No creepy mannequins here, just good old-fashioned fun.

Bucky, on the other hand, looked around like he had just entered a foreign world. The last time he’d been in an arcade, they didn’t have all this flashing neon or half the games that were here now. What happened to the simple stuff? Pinball machines and jukeboxes. Now I’ve got ten-foot robots staring at me while kids slap buttons like their lives depend on it.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile at how excited you looked. Okay, if she’s this excited, maybe this won’t be so bad.

“Okay, so... how does this place work again?” he asked, watching a kid furiously slap buttons at a nearby game.

You laughed, giving him a gentle nudge. “It’s simple! We just play a bunch of games, earn tickets, and then trade them in for really weird prizes. Easy.”

Bucky nodded, though he still looked a little confused. “So, you win tickets by—?”

“By being amazing at games, obviously,” you said, your eyes already darting toward a nearby basketball shooting game. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Bucky followed you, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, I’ll keep up.” Alright, let’s see if I remember how to be competitive at... basketball?

You started with basketball, and while you had a decent shot, Bucky quickly became the Michael Jordan of arcade basketball. He tossed shot after shot into the hoop with ridiculous ease, barely even looking like he was trying.

Oh, come on. Seriously? Why is he good at everything? You shook your head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. Are you serious right now? Are you even aiming?”

“I dunno. I just... throw.” Bucky shrugged, not missing a single shot. 

“This is what I get for going on a date with someone who’s literally built for accuracy.” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. Why am I pretending like I’m mad? It’s honestly impressive.

He flashed a boyish grin. “You wanted to see if I could keep up.” Oh, I’m keeping up, doll.

You crossed your arms, pretending to pout. “I wasn’t trying to lose in record time.”

When the game ended, Bucky had a ridiculous amount of points, and you had... well, significantly fewer. He collected your combined tickets from the machine, glancing down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Should I carry these, or do you want to hold on to the three tickets you earned?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

How is he still charming even while teasing me? This is unfair. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you snatched a couple of tickets from his hand with a grin. “You know what? Fuck you.”

“Careful, doll. You keep talking like that, and I might just take you up on it.” Bucky’s smirk widened, and he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your pulse quicken. 

Okay, that was a little too good. I should not be blushing right now. Your eyes widened for a second, a flush creeping up your neck before you shot him a playful glare. “You wish.”

“You know I don’t have to wish for anything.” He chuckled, stepping back with a wink.

Well, that escalated quickly. You tried to bite back your smile, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at you. “I’m starting to regret bringing you here.”

Bucky held up the stack of tickets, grinning like a kid who just won the lottery. “You’re only regretting it because I’m walking away with all the prizes.” Did I just turn an arcade into a battlefield?

“Yeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in.” You huffed, shaking your head, though the smile on your face said otherwise. 

Bucky shot you another wink. “Oh, I plan to.”

This guy is dangerous with that smile. You smirked, leaning in a little. “So... what happened to the awkward guy who pointed out that bagels are round? Because this,” you waved at the arcade tickets, “does not feel like the same guy.”

“What? You weren’t impressed by my bagel observations?” Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. I was doing my best back then, okay?

You laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, I was very impressed. I just didn’t know you were hiding this arcade legend behind all that bagel wisdom.”

He grinned, eyes glinting. “I’m full of surprises, doll.” You have no idea.

“Clearly,” you said, still teasing him as you walked toward the next game. “Let’s see how many more surprises you’ve got.”

You dragged him over to the shooting gallery game, where you were met with an array of plastic rifles and paper targets.

“I’m kinda good at this,” you declared, grabbing one of the rifles with renewed determination. “You can’t have a crazy aim for everything.” Finally, something I can win.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “Okay. Let’s see what you got.”

You aimed and fired... missing every single target. You winced as the targets flipped back and forth, mocking you with their tiny, evil faces. Are you kidding me?

“You’re holding it too tight.” Bucky stepped up beside you, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Oh, great. Here we go. The expert.” You groaned. Of course, I’m holding it too tight. Leave it to Bucky to know everything.

Bucky smiled, but instead of saying anything, he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, his hands gently guiding yours on the plastic gun. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you felt the warmth of him so close. His breath was soft against your ear as he leaned in to guide your aim, his voice low and steady.

Why does he have to be so good at this? I can barely think straight.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands adjusting yours gently. “Don’t grip it so hard. Just like this.”

How am I supposed to relax when he’s practically wrapped around me?

Your pulse quickened, your senses suddenly overwhelmed by how close he was. His cologne—woodsy and warm—filled your lungs, making you a little dizzy. You swallowed hard, focusing on anything but the way your back pressed against his chest. “Okay... relax. Right. Got it.”

“You’re not relaxing.” Bucky’s voice was low, almost teasing.

Yeah, no kidding. Not exactly easy when you smell like a lumberjack dream. 

“I am relaxed!” you shot back, though your heart was racing so fast you were sure he could hear it.

Bucky chuckled, and the soft rumble of his laugh vibrated against your back. “If you were relaxed, you wouldn’t be holding your breath.” 

If she’s holding her breath, I must be doing something right.

You blinked, realizing that yes, you were in fact holding your breath. You exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the targets instead of the fact that Bucky was basically wrapped around you.

“Good,” he said quietly, his hands still steadying yours. “Now, pull the trigger. Nice and easy.”

Yeah, this is totally normal. Just shooting targets, totally not thinking about how close we are.

You followed his lead, squeezing the trigger gently. The shot rang out, and the sound of a hit echoed through the machine. The target flipped backward, signaling a perfect hit.

“I did it!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over as you turned your head to look at him.

Your faces were just inches apart. Bucky’s eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, the good kind—the kind that makes your heart race and your stomach flip.

God, she’s close. Just a little closer...

Your gaze flickered down to his lips, and Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting where you were or what you were doing. All he could think about was how easy it would be to lean in just a little more, to—

“Uh, sorry!” A kid nearby bumped into the machine, jolting you both out of the moment.

Of course. Great timing, kid.

You quickly stepped out of Bucky’s embrace, your face flushed. “Well, um... thanks for the lesson, Barnes.”

Bucky cleared his throat, his ears a little pink. “Yeah. Anytime.” Anytime? Seriously, Barnes? That’s all you’ve got?

You moved on to a few more games, but the tension between you still lingered, electric and unspoken. After a particularly intense game of air hockey (where you almost won, thanks to Bucky being a little too distracted by you), you found yourselves at the prize counter.

Your eyes scanned the shelves, but one prize in particular caught your attention: an absolutely massive goose plush sitting at the top of the prize display. It was ridiculous, almost comically large, but it made you smile instantly.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, pointing. “That goose is so cute.”

Bucky followed your gaze and raised an eyebrow. A goose? Really? She could pick anything, and it’s that giant bird?

“You like that thing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I mean, look at it. It’s the size of a couch,” you said, laughing. “No one’s ever gonna win enough tickets for that.”

Bucky looked thoughtful for a second. Then, without saying a word, he handed all of your tickets to the guy at the counter. Challenge accepted, doll.

The kid behind the counter stared at him. “Uh, you know this isn’t enough for the goose, right?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, but... what’s it take to win that thing?”

Because clearly, winning giant plush birds is my new priority in life.

The kid blinked. “Like... a thousand tickets.”

Bucky smirked, then turned to you. “Wait here.”

“What are you doing?” You frowned, confused. 

Please don’t say you’re going to try and win a thousand tickets... oh my God, he’s going to try and win a thousand tickets.

Bucky said nothing and disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, you saw him at one of those old-school, rigged basketball games. His face was calm, determined—like he was about to go to war.

One after the other, Bucky sank shot after shot, racking up points so fast that you had to rub your eyes to believe it. Within minutes, he had earned a mountain of tickets. He moved on to another game, this time skee-ball, and then to another. Every single game, he dominated, earning enough tickets to make the counter kid’s jaw drop when he returned with what looked like a roll of tickets big enough to use as a belt.

“Holy crap,” you muttered, watching as Bucky handed the tickets over, a satisfied smirk on his face. The kid counted them, eyes wide, then slowly reached for the giant goose plush.

The oversized goose was practically half Bucky’s height as he carried it back over to you, grinning.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you with a proud look. “You said you liked it, right?”

Who just... casually wins a giant goose plush? How did he do that?

You stared at the giant, fluffy creature, then at him, your heart flipping over itself. “Bucky... this is insane. It’s huge.”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave without winning you something.” He shrugged, his grin boyish and a little shy. Yeah, Barnes, act like you’re not insanely proud of yourself right now. 

He’s... adorable. Stop. Focus. “You really didn’t have to... but I love it.” You laughed, hugging the goose to your chest. 

“Good.” Bucky’s eyes softened as he watched you smile. Worth every single ticket.

Your heart raced, your face heating up as you looked at him over the massive plush. “You’re full of surprises, Barnes. Who knew you’d be this good at arcades?”

Just trying to impress the girl, no big deal.

“Maybe I just wanted to impress you.” He smiled, a little more reserved this time.

Well, mission accomplished, buddy. You blushed, the air between you crackling again with that familiar tension. “Well, mission accomplished.”

You stood there for a moment, just smiling at each other, the absurdly large goose between you, until you laughed and nudged him with your elbow.

“You know, this might be the best date I’ve ever been on,” you said, your tone light but sincere. Was that too much? Did I just over-share?

Bucky’s smile grew, his eyes softening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, holding the goose a little tighter. “Definitely the best.” Okay, that was smooth. Not awkward at all.

You left the arcade with the giant goose plush between you, its goofy face almost mocking the awkwardness that had suddenly crept back into your steps. Bucky walked beside you, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, trying to figure out what to say.

Do I say something? Or just... keep walking?

The sounds of the city filled the silence around you, but neither of you spoke. The playful energy from the arcade had faded into something quieter, more uncertain.

Why am I so bad at this? Just say something, Barnes.

After a long stretch of quiet, Bucky cleared his throat. “So... is this the end?” Smooth, real smooth.

You blinked and glanced over at him, trying to keep your heart from doing a flip at his words. “Well, that’s all I had planned. Why?”

Bucky hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly as he looked ahead, his mind clearly weighing something. Okay, don’t screw this up. Don’t sound too eager.

For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to say goodbye, that maybe this was the end of your date after all. But then, he spoke quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

“I kind of don’t want to go home yet.” Well, there it is. Now she knows.

You felt a flutter in your chest, your face heating up as a small, shy smile tugged at your lips. You ducked your head, looking down at the sidewalk to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. The way he said it—so simple but sincere—made your heart skip.

Why does that sound so much cuter than it should? You bit your lip, an idea suddenly coming to you.

“Well...” you started, glancing up at him. “There’s a new building by the riverside with a sky deck. It just opened recently, and it’s supposed to have the best view of the city.”

“Sky deck, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued. A sky deck? Yeah, that sounds better than awkwardly walking home.

You nodded, a little more excited now. “Yeah. It’s pretty high up, and overlooks the whole city. I haven’t been yet, but I heard it’s amazing at night.”

“Sounds better than going home.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile. Thank God. I’m not ready for this to be over yet.

“Then let’s go.” You grinned, feeling your heart race just a little faster. 

You shared a quick, almost nervous glance at each other before walking in the direction of the riverside. The awkwardness wasn’t completely gone, but now, it was laced with anticipation, a kind of giddy energy that made your stomach flutter. You hugged the plush goose a little tighter, trying not to let your excitement show too much, but inside, you were buzzing.

× × × × 

The city lights shimmered below you as you lounged on the comfy chairs, drinks in hand. The night air was cool, but it didn’t come close to breaking the warmth buzzing between you and Bucky.

She’s... something else, Bucky thought, leaning back slightly. His gaze kept shifting between the breathtaking skyline and you, but he found himself more captivated by you. How am I supposed to focus on the view when she looks like that?

Noticing the quiet, you smirked. “So, you were really gonna end the night without showing off more of your endless talents?”

Oh, she’s teasing now. Alright, two can play this game. Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “What, beating you at arcade games wasn’t enough?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re a walking cheat code, Bucky. But I feel like there’s more you’re holding back.”

His eyes flickered over your face, lingering on your lips for just a little too long. More than you know, doll. “Maybe I am.”

Your breath caught for a second, but you quickly recovered, tilting your head and flashing him a grin. “Oh yeah? Like what? Some secret talent I should know about?”

Keep your cool, Barnes. Don't blow it now.

Bucky leaned in just a fraction, his voice lowering, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But I only show them to people who ask nicely.”

God, does he have to sound that smooth? Your heart flipped at the way he was looking at you, intense, as if he was seeing through every joke and teasing comment. How am I supposed to keep this casual?

“Nicely, huh? And what do I have to do for you to show me?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the playful banter fading into something more charged.

“Keep hanging around,” he said softly.

I’m in deep now. Bucky's eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. Should I kiss her? Maybe I’m reading this wrong...

His eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. It was just him—his voice, his presence, the way he was looking at you like he wanted to kiss you but was holding back.

You swallowed, feeling the tension build like a slow fire. You sipped your drink, trying to cool yourself down, but it did little to shake the feeling that something between you had shifted. Stop overthinking, just go with it.

“I could do that,” you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. You felt his eyes on you, and the air between you felt electric. You glanced at him, catching him staring at your lips again. Your pulse jumped. He’s really staring... isn’t he?

“You’re staring,” you said, teasing, though your voice had a soft edge to it, your heart thudding in your chest.

Bucky blinked, caught, but instead of pulling away, he smirked. “Am I?”

Yeah, Bucky, play it cool. Like you haven’t been staring for the past five minutes.

“Mhm,” you teased, though your voice was barely steady. Why does that smirk make my heart race? “I mean, I get it. The view’s great and all.”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping lower. “You could say that.”

I can’t believe this is actually happening. You felt your face heat up at the way he was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach do wild flips. Why is this so... intense?

“You’re not just talking about the city, are you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, sending shivers down your spine. Just kiss her already. “Maybe not.”

Your breath hitched. “And what are you looking at?”

He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on yours. “What do you think?”

She knows exactly what I’m looking at. 

Your heart raced, the pull between you growing stronger with every passing second. His eyes kept flicking down to your lips, making you wonder if he was going to kiss you. I really shouldn’t wait any longer...

Bucky cleared his throat suddenly, as if shaking off the trance he’d been in, and leaned back into his seat, looking almost embarrassed. Okay, maybe I’m rushing this.

“Sorry... I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” you interrupted quickly, your voice softer, gentler now. God, why did he stop? “Don’t be. I didn’t mind.”

His gaze snapped back to yours, the tension flaring again. She didn’t mind? Well, maybe I didn’t screw up, after all—or I did because you didn’t kiss her you idiot. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, a soft smile tugged at his lips, and his expression softened.

“So... orthopedic ward, huh?” he said, shifting the conversation, though his eyes were still locked on you. “How do you handle that? All those broken bones?”

Smooth, Barnes. Talk about bones to distract yourself from the fact you were just about to kiss her.

You took a deep breath, relieved for the break in intensity but missing it instantly. Great, now I’m thinking about how close he was... “Well, it’s mostly convincing people not to do dumb things. Like skateboarding down staircases. You wouldn’t believe what people put themselves through.”

Bucky chuckled. Yeah, I believe it. Considering I’ve done dumber things in my time. “I can believe it. I’ve been there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve skateboarded down staircases?”

“No, but I’ve done some pretty stupid things in my time,” he admitted, leaning in again. Pretty sure falling for you might top the list. “But if I did something dumb, you’d patch me up, right?”

You smirked, your eyes twinkling. He’s flirting again. I can’t take this seriously. “Oh, I’d patch you up. But I’d make sure to remind you how dumb you were the entire time.”

“Fair,” Bucky said, the distance between you shrinking again. Patch me up, lecture me—just keep talking, I don’t care. “But I think I’d be a good patient.”

You shook your head with a grin. Good patient? Doubtful. “I doubt that. You’d probably complain the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t,” he replied, his tone teasing but soft. I’d let her take care of me, no problem. “If you were the one taking care of me, I’d be on my best behavior.”

He’s definitely not just talking about broken bones... Your heart skipped at the way he was looking at you again, his voice dropping to something more intimate. The banter was light, but underneath it all, there was that same intensity. Okay, now I’m thinking about kissing him again...

“You don’t strike me as someone who’s ever on their best behavior,” you teased softly, though your breath caught in your throat.

Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking to your lips again. “Maybe you bring it out in me.”

God, I hope so.

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. Your pulse raced, and you leaned into the moment, letting the tension simmer between you, unspoken but undeniable. He’s close again…

“I’ll have to see that for myself,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat.

She’s close, too. Just lean in, Barnes. Bucky’s gaze darkened, his voice low and rough. “You just might.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as the tension between you crackled, thick and electric. You shifted slightly, leaning in with a playful smirk. “So... tell me, you got any other dates lined up after this one?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned back, crossing his arms. Dates? I can barely keep up with this one. “Why? You worried I’ve got someone else lined up?”

You grinned, holding his gaze. “Maybe. Should I be?”

Not a chance. He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking as his voice dropped lower. “I don’t know... do you have any other dates lined up?”

He’s really turning this on me, huh? You blinked, your heart racing, but you quickly shot back, “Well, maybe... maybe not. Depends on how this one ends.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes dropping to your lips again, the intensity rising. Alright, Barnes, time to end this date right. “Guess I better make sure it ends right, then.”

Before you could respond, Bucky reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek as he leaned in, your lips so close you could feel his breath.

Your heart was pounding, your breath shallow, as his parted lips brushed against yours, soft and slow, his head tilting just slightly. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips locking against yours in a way that made everything around you fade to nothing. He could taste the faint sweetness of your daiquiri on your lips, and with a soft groan, his tongue did a slow, savoring lick against your bottom lip before slipping past, deepening the kiss.

Your hands instinctively moved up, cupping his face as you kissed him back, your fingers sliding along the scruff of his jaw. The warmth of his touch, the way his thumb stroked your cheek, the way his lips moved against yours —everything about it was intoxicating, pulling you under.

Then Bucky pulled back for a quick gasp, his breath mingling with yours , before diving back in, capturing your lips with even more intensity. The kiss deepened, more urgent this time, as though neither of you wanted the moment to end. His hand on your nape tightened slightly, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified, his lips pressing more firmly against yours.

They didn’t stop until they couldn’t breathe anymore, finally pulling apart when the need for air overtook you, both of you breathless and flushed. Their foreheads rested together, the cool night air doing little to cool the heat between you. Bucky’s thumb gently stroked your cheek as he whispered, his voice rough, “Definitely no other dates lined up after this.”

You smiled, your hands still cradling his face, your heart pounding. “Good. Neither do I.”

× × × ×

As Bucky’s motorcycle came to a slow stop outside your house, and glanced up at your front porch. You hopped off the bike, shaking out your hair with a satisfied grin.

That ride was way too short... you thought, glancing at him as you handed Bucky his helmet, which he stubbornly told you to wear instead of him.

Bucky, being the gentleman, didn’t just let you off with a wave. He slid off the bike and stood up straight, dusting his hands like he was about to help carry your groceries.

Alright, Barnes. Play it cool.

"I’ll walk you up," he said casually, like it wasn’t 2024 and people usually just waved from their cars.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. "You’re walking me to my porch?"

Bucky nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She thinks it’s weird? Hell, I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Of course. What kind of guy lets a lady walk to her door alone?” he replied, shrugging like this was completely normal.

You tried not to laugh, biting your lip to hold back a smile. He’s serious. Oh my God, he’s really serious. "Wow, okay, Mr. 1940s. What’s next, you gonna tip your hat and call me ‘ma’am’?"

Bucky smirked, taking a step closer. Alright, go with it, Barnes. “I could, if that’s what you’re into.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes but smiling as you walked together toward your porch. He’s ridiculous... and kinda sweet. You couldn’t help but notice how he slowed his pace just a little, like he was savoring the moment, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, casual yet somehow... considerate.

When you reached your porch, Bucky stopped, glancing at your door as if making sure it was safe territory. This is it. Play it smooth.

You turned to him, unable to hold back a laugh this time. "So, do I get a secret code to get into my own house, or...?"

Bucky grinned, leaning casually against the porch railing. “Just making sure you get home safe.”

Alright, Barnes, she’s not buying it. But hey, it worked.

“You know, they invented porch lights for a reason.” You shook your head, amused. He’s seriously acting like my personal bodyguard right now.

“What can I say? Old habits die hard.” Bucky shrugged, leaning in just a little closer, that playful glint in his eye. Please don’t laugh, please don’t laugh.

You looked up at him, crossing your arms with a smirk. “You know, there’s a fine line between being a gentleman and babysitting.”

Bucky chuckled. She’s killing me with that smirk. “Hey, you never know. There could be a rogue bagel out here, just waiting to trip you up.”

Oh, not the bagels again. “Oh my God, not the bagels again!” you burst out laughing, shaking your head.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You know they’re round, right?”

This man is unbelievable. You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I think we’ve officially come full circle.”

“Just like a bagel.” Bucky gave a slow, dramatic nod.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, but you shook your head, standing on your porch with your hands on your hips. Why do I like this guy so much?

“Alright, alright, you’ve escorted me safely to my door. Anything else, or are you going to salute me goodbye?”

Bucky’s grin softened, and with a playful twinkle in his eye, he gave a small, mock salute. She’s gotta be messing with me right now, right? “Goodnight, ma’am.”

“Goodnight, soldier.” You couldn’t stop smiling as you opened your door, turning back to look at him. Don’t walk away, don’t walk away yet...

As you slipped inside, you peeked out one last time, watching as Bucky lingered for a second, that charming smirk still on his face before he finally turned and headed back to his bike. Say something, Barnes. Don’t just leave like a dork.

But then he stopped, halfway to his bike, and turned back around, something flickering in his eyes.

No, I’m not leaving yet. Not without...

Before you could ask what he was doing, Bucky closed the distance between you with a few long strides. Without hesitating, he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you—soft, quick, but just enough to make your heart race. His lips parted against yours, and for a split second, you tasted the warmth of him before he pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes.

That... was... wow.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart doing a somersault. Did that just happen? You were still processing when Bucky grinned, his voice a little more hushed. “I guess I couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye.”

Smooth, Barnes. Real smooth.

You blinked, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a soft, “No complaints here.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his hand still lingering at your neck for a moment longer. Then, he cleared his throat, stepping back a bit. “Hey, uh... you got a number I could call sometime?”

He’s asking for my number after that?

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter as you reached into your pocket, grabbing your phone. “Yeah, here—let me put it in.”

As you typed in your number, Bucky watched you, that familiar twinkle back in his eyes. Best decision I’ve made all night.

When you handed his phone back, your fingers brushed his, sending a small jolt up your arm. Yep, I’m done for.

Bucky pocketed the phone, flashing that boyish grin again. “Alright. I’ll call you.”

Yeah, you better. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He took a slow step down from the porch, but not without glancing over his shoulder one more time. “Goodnight... again.”

You stood there, grinning like an idiot. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

As Bucky made his way back to his bike, you slipped inside your house, leaning against the door as your heart raced. Did he really just kiss me? Again? Oh, this is definitely not over.

You peeked out one last time through the crack in the door, watching him as he swung his leg over his bike. Even from your doorway, you could hear him muttering with a smirk, “Just trying to keep the rogue bagels at bay.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finally closed the door behind you, your heart racing a little more than you expected. I’m never going to forget this night...

[thelightsandtheroses]

Sweater Weather | Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: When you pick up a hobby again as the seasons turn in Jackson, Joel wonders why you won’t make him a sweater. Word Count: 2k Warnings: established relationship, pure fluff, copious references to knitting and crafting, references to the ‘sweater curse’ , post season Jackson domesticity, no description of the reader beyond her hobby. Notes: This is just a cosy autumnal piece of fluff to ease back into the fandom a bit. I’ve been struggling with writing and my place in the fandom bit recently but I wanted to take part in @jolapeno and @goodwithcheese ‘s jolabrew with cheese autumn challenge and I’ve recently been crafting a bit and trying knitting and crochet so couldn’t resist this silly little idea,

You used to love autumn. You thought it would be your favourite season forever. You were intoxicated by the foliage in all its glorious shades of red and mustard yellow, even the browns seemed richer then. You remember jumping through leaves in your childhood, a mug of hot chocolate waiting when you got home.

That was Before though.

Before the colour red reminded you of blood rather than leave. It was before the dark meant risk, meant the chance of an infected hiding away and a rational fear of death.

After the outbreak, all of the moments you clung to, the memories you used to savour, it all felt so pointless in this new world where death was always so close, always a shadow around you.

It’s different here though.

Jackson is like something out of a postcard. It’s simultaneously stuck in another time and fully adapted to the outbreak and the need for security.

You sit on the rocking chair on the porch, hands occupied by knitting needles as you try and turn what was once a too small jumper into something useable for you, or Joel, or Ellie. You’re thinking a scarf maybe for Ellie, as the weather turns more, perhaps even a matching hat if you can salvage enough, or remember how to make one.

“Whatcha makin’?” Joel asks, one arm casually leaning against the wooden jamb of the porch. Sometimes he seems to appear from nowhere and you take in his appearance, eyes slightly tired from patrol but still bright and there’s a small smile on his face as he takes in what you’re up to.

“Not sure yet. It was a sweater before I frogged it, could be good for a scarf or hat, maybe even socks if I can … I don’t know if I can make those.” Before Jackson, it had been a while since you picked up a pair of knitting needles or a crochet hook, or even a decent skein of wool but now you can finally indulge in the hobby again. Back in Boston, you can hardly imagine how many ration cards this would have gone for.

“You’ll figure it out, you always do.” Joel says with a smile.

You remember you used to make Tommy, Tess and Joel whatever you could from scraps of wool or ragged jumpers whenever possible. Your proudest accomplishment was a patchwork blanket over several months for winters in Boston. There was no heating in the apartments and it could get cold.

Now you’ve made a number of sweaters in varying levels of success, for the first the arms were so long in you had to start again, but you’ve also made a scarf and an acceptable number of hats - the latter of which you’ve proudly given to Ellie and Joel.

It feels domestic, normal even. Jackson is just different.

“How was patrol?” you ask.

“Tommy and I went up to the lookout, there were a few infected but-” Joel shrugs and runs a hand through his hair in a motion that still turns to your bones to jelly every single time. “It was fine.“

“Good.”

You take a moment to drink in Joel’s appearance. He looks better here. His clothes fit again, his eyes are brighter. There’s part of you that can’t believe either of you are here now, that he came back. That either of them did.

When you all left Boston, you noticed the way he made sure you and Ellie had supplies, had food when it was in short supply. The closer you’d got to Jackson, the more you’d noticed how he started using a tighter notch on his belt, so you tried to share more with him, make it subtle so he didn’t catch on to your intentions either.

He had taken Ellie on from Jackson alone, insisted he’d only be a couple of weeks, but he’d asked you to stay. There was an unspoken promise to wait for him to come back. Two weeks turned into a month and you’d begged Tommy to send a group to find him and Ellie, you’d begged the town meeting every week but they said no.

Tommy thought Joel was dead, you realised. Him and Maria were trying to subtly prepare you, to help you build a life in Jackson of your own. You knew they were alive though, you just knew it.

After a while, you weren’t so sure. You just weren’t sure what it would mean if they didn’t. Your life was in stasis, waiting for an answer that might never come.

The day Joel came back with Ellie, you’d hugged them both before joking that they stank and tried to wipe away your tears when neither was looking.

That was months ago and now the three of you are settled into Jackson, almost. There are secrets between them about the time they went to Salt Lake City, but they’re here. They’re safe. There’s time for that later.

Hey,” Joel says, “you want to get lunch at the hall?”

“Sure.” You place your wool and knitting inside the hallway of your, Joel and Ellie’s home and walk down the porch to meet him.

The two of you stroll down the street towards the main town hall and dining area. It’s cool, crisp and the sound of leaves crunching under your boots is a balm. Joel’s hand is tantalising close to yours, skimming your fingers as the two of you move in tandem.

“Weather’s turning, we’ll need warmer clothes. I think the stuff I made for Tommy and Maria’s baby went down well.” You pause. “Think I could get a sweater for Ellie and new socks for you outta that.”

“Huh?”

“The wool - you asked what I was making.”

“Oh, right.”

“Seth asked if i can make him a sweater. This wool is for you and Ellie though, if you come across anything on patrol, could you- ”

‘Sure.“

Joel pauses, he’s wearing the expression you’ve noticed whenever he wants to say something but he’s not sure. A slight frown, one brow lowered, concentration on his face.

“Is everything okay?”

“Sure.”

“Joel, I know that face.”

“Seth asked if you can make him a sweater.”

“For trades, Joel, could be useful. I think he mentioned a certain bottle of wine that I’ve been eyeing up.”

“Okay.”

“What is it?”

“You’ve made me some lovely things, darlin’, and I truly appreciate the hat, but I -I know it sounds selfish, but I -”

“You want a sweater,” you say in realisation. You should have known, the last time you knitted a jumper you couldn’t help but notice how Joel had watched you doing it.

“I mean, not necessarily. It just feels like half the town has sweaters you’ve knitted ‘cept -”

“You.”

“It’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s not. It’s just, I can’t make you a sweater, Joel.”

“You can’t make me a sweater?” Joel asks.

You nod solemnly. “Honestly, I would, but I really can’t.”

“Well, why not?“

“Sweater curse.”

“Sweater curse?”

“Sweater curse.”

The two of you reach the dining hall and you kiss Joel lightly on the cheek before you open the door. “We’re okay, right?”

“Course we are,” he says firmly, squeezing your hand and putting an arm around you. “Sweater curse?” you hear him mumble to himself.

You should elaborate, explain things but in all honesty this is a moment you’ve dreaded. It’s as close to defining your relationship as you and Joel have come in some time. Mostly, the two of you are together and you’re exclusive and that’s enough. There’s no need to put any firmer labels on things than that because the two of you just work.

By the time the two of you have selected your lunch and are sitting at the table.

Tommy’s wearing a sweater you’ve made. Joel scowls for a second.

“What the fuck is a sweater curse?”

Tommy bursts out laughing.

“Rally?” He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I’m not messing with that shit. Not in this world.”

“This world?”

“There are people essentially infected by a mushroom, Joel, I will play ball with any superstitions I need to.”

“That sounds sensible actually,” Tommy says thoughtfully. “So … the sweater curse, huh?”

“How do you know about the sweater curse?” Joel asks.

“Dated someone into crochet some time back.”

“You dated someone … Jesus, Tommy. So what is it?”

“Well you know if you give someone you’re dating a homemade sweater, the curse is you’ll break up.”

”Oh.”

Joel scrutinises you and you feel your face heating. “It’s an old wives’ tale, but I - I would rather not chance it.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“I know, I know. It’s just I know someone who did make their girlfriend a sweater and then she broke up with them. Do you remember Tamsin back in the QZ?“

“Tamsin was a smuggler and dating a woman in FEDRA, it was doomed before the sweater,” Tommy says.

“Nonetheless.”

“But okay, if you’re really worried, I get it,” Tommy says, earning a scowl from Joel.

“It’s just an urban legend, baby,” Joel says.

“That might be true, but with you? Nope, I don’t want to risk it.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he repeats calmly, looking into your eyes and squeezing a knee as he slightly moves you so you’re both facing each other. The distractions of Tommy and the dining hall melt away. It’s like a balm over your body, the fact that Joel is here with you, that he still wants to be with you. The connection between the two of you runs deep and it’s certainly not always run smoothly. This town has been a true second chance for the two of you to achieve something close to normal, and maybe, you realise, Joel can see that.

“You go on patrol, Joel, it’s not as simple as that.”

Tommy looks away and Joel swallows. You watch how he tries to work through his answer, lips slightly pursed as he ponders the rich approach. There’s a freckle on his neck, one that whenever you see it instantly transports you to nights with him and moments between the sheets. You’ve catalogued every freckle, every mark, every scar now.

“I won’t push you on this,” he says quietly. “The gloves and hats are real nice.”

You smile softly, kissing him on the cheek before turning your attention back to your food. The water jug is empty so you decide to go and get a refill.

As you walk away, you can hear Tommy and Joel’s voices still.

“Now I think about it, there’s a way around the curse anyway,” Tommy says quietly, clearly in the hopes you won’t hear them. The years together have led to your hearing becoming attuned to them, to Joel’s voice in particular. You could pick him out of any crowd.

“Oh yeah?” There’s a lightness in Joel’s voice now, that slight teasing edge you love.

“Marry her. That’s the workaround. Honest.”

Joel chuckles. “For a sweater? Can’t marry her for a sweater. That ain’t right.”

“You said you were going to marry her anyway, Joel. Isn’t a sweater just a bonus?”

“Tommy!”

“I’m just sayin’, you said you had a plan.”

“I do and shut up, will you? She’ll hear.”

You freeze momentarily. Joel’s talked about marriage with you to Tommy? You take a deep breath before returning to the table.

“Is it true?” Joel asks in a whisper to you. “I know you heard Tommy and me.”

“Reckon I could ask the same question.”

Joel swallows. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

“Same.” You pause and smile mischievously, “Say it was true, I take it you have a colour preference for a sweater then, Joel?”

Tag List

If you would like to be added to to the taglist please let me know. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs. Tag lists are a bit funky at the moment, so I recommend following me or my fic account @thelightsandtheroses-fics (you can enable notifications for that account) if you want to ensure you're up to date

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed@pedrostories@hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

A/N: 2k words, another Kofi member request about a Kappa!

warnings: breeding, anal

Nearly every afternoon during the summer, you enjoyed walking down to the local river to cool off. You’d swim for a bit and sunbathe before eating some snacks.

Before, you disliked going out on your own, but after finding a secluded spot you found out that spending time by yourself was relaxing. In nature and surrounded by the comforting sounds of the river, you could find peace.

Maybe it was the sudden heat wave, maybe it was the riverbed starting to dry up, but you noticed some of the frogs and smaller reptiles dying. It upset you, and you started leaving out small dishes full of water. You’d come home from the river to find hordes of small creatures enjoying the refreshments.

After putting out a fresh dish of water, you wrapped your towel around your body. You were soft, plump, with stretch marks on your thighs, belly, and breasts. Though it used to make you insecure, you rarely felt that way anymore, especially since you started wearing next to nothing at your secluded river spot.

On the way there, you heard a strange sound, like a mix of hiss and whine. It sent you on edge. Was something injured out here? Sometimes you spotted the occasional reptile or cat that needed help…

But there wasn’t a cat.

You pulled back the leaves of a large bush, peering inside. It took a moment for you to register what exactly you were looking at.

Some… creature was lying under the shade of the bush, breathing shallowly and making sounds of distress. It seemed strangely dried out, like a work caught on the sidewalk after a storm.

“H-hello?”

The creature went silent at the sound of your voice, beady eyes glancing up at you. Its skin was taut and slightly wrinkled, and its voice was raspy.

“Help… me…”

You jumped when it spoke, your eyes going wide as you took in its entire body. It was shaped like a human, but with green skin and a turtle shell covering its torso. For a moment you could only stare in shock, unable to do anything but open and close your mouth without speaking.

“Water…”

Despite not knowing what it was and if it was dangerous, you couldn’t in good conscious leave a helpless creature to suffer like that.

You ran to the river, taking out your water canteen and filling it with water. Once it was full, you ran back to the creature.

“Here, drink this…”

It made a strange sound, weakly pushing your hand away. Why was it resisting?

It was then you realized the creature wasn’t pushing you away, it was guiding you upwards towards its head.

There was a small dish there…

“Fill… it with water… and I’ll be forever in your debt.”

You didn’t hesitate, filling the small dish with the water. It was almost instant, the creature was on its feet and cheering, letting out happy chirps as its face nuzzled into yours.

“Thank you, thank you…”

You weren’t sure what to think of this… thing. After attempting to leave it in the wild and go home, you begrudgingly let it follow after you.

It was clingy, constantly rubbing its head against you and letting out this affectionate purr. You’d have to do some research once you got home…

As you got comfortable in your computer chair and opened your laptop, it peaked over the back, blinking as it watched you type in a few things.

Green skin, a turtle shell, and a shallow water dish on its head… every result told you it was a creature called the Kappa.

Though some of the creatures’ behaviors did concern you, the kappa before you seemed to be placated and obedient due to you saving it.

It began living with you… and you soon learned that it was… very fond of you.

Some days when you wore looser clothing, it would peek under your shirts or shorts, with an almost innocent curiosity. It started making you shy as you realized it was a he when his cock poked out, bobbing with need as he stared at your plump ass as you showered.

You were soft, with stretch marks on your breasts, belly, and thighs, and he seemed fascinated by that. He traced his webbed fingers along your stretch marks, letting out a content purr as you whined a bit.

He was a large guy, a soft belly and muscular to boot, easily able to pick you up when he wanted and could also easily pin you down. Thoughts like those flustered you… why were you thinking of that creature like this!?

Lately, it had been staying close to you at all times, letting out strange noises minutes before a male would pass by outside. Be it a human, dog, cat, or something else, he hated any male getting near you.

“Have to take care of you…” he murmured, his hand moving over your soft belly as he admired your plump body. “You saved me, I owe you that…”

You weren’t exactly sure that was the whole truth, though. He looked at you with needy eyes, his cock often erect and beading precum. His hands tended to wander along your body when he was near you, and you were starting to feel needy yourself.

Indulging him a bit wouldn’t hurt, would it?

It was nearing fall, meaning he stayed inside more often, soaking in your tub to stay moisturized and cuddling up with you if it got even slightly cold.

That meant you felt his erection rubbing against your fat thighs, sometimes slipping between them to use your thighs to get off. You didn’t really mind, even slightly rocking your hips to help him.

He adored your ass, often squeezing and playing with it, pulling apart your cheeks to look at your cute hole. Of course you shooed him away before he could push his fingers into you… but sometimes you wanted to give in.

This made you want him even more. He was always bringing home fish and fresh vegetables for you to eat, and it was too late to go back when you realized he was courting you.

The kappa saw you as his mate, his to protect and breed during the fall and winter so you’d produce his young by the upcoming spring.

His efforts began to increase the second snow began to fall. He’d go out to the river daily, coming back with too much fish for you to eat, but he insisted on filling you up for the winter.

You were already fat, a plump and curvy person, but now your belly was even softer, your stretch marks growing. This seemed to please him…

He let out a soft purr as he nuzzled his face against your neck, nibbling softly. Every day his affections grew bolder, and he was close to mating with you.

You could see the warning signs. His hands wondering, nest building, his scent lingering on your body long after he had pulled away…

It was early December when he came to you, clingy and upset. You had left the house for a few hours to do run some errands and returned to a very upset and jealous kappa.

“H-hey, it was just a little bump on the shoulder!”

But he wasn’t listening to your explanation. He could smell a man’s scent on you, and that was driving him crazy. You had run into someone accidentally, that was all, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

The kappa was letting out an upset whine, pinning you down as he continued to nuzzle his face into you, his erection rubbing against your clothed cunt.

It was… exhilarating, feeling his webbed fingers pull your thighs apart. He took a sniff between your legs, tilting his head and letting out a contented purr when he was able to see your pussy.

You whimpered when he toyed with your clit, his tongue pushing past your plump pussy lips and into your hole. Your taste was something the kappa had never experienced before, and he could tell you were a fertile mate just by that alone.

“Pretty…”

The kappa was not a creature of many words, so to hear him compliment you in this way had you clenching around his tongue.

It didn’t take long for him to bring you to orgasm, you were so pent up from holding yourself back all these months that it was easy to make you cum.

You could tell he didn’t have much of an idea of what he was doing, it was all instincts, but you enjoyed every touch and lick.

Before long, his cock was throbbing too much to ignore and he climbed on top of you, once again nuzzling and butting his head against you affectionately as he pressed the tip of his cock against your dripping hole.

It was clear what he wanted. His hand was on your belly, feeling the soft fat and texture of your stretch marks as he pushed in.

His mind was filled with images of your belly being big and swollen, being a perfect little mate and parent to his young.

With those thoughts in mind, he pushed into you, his hand grabbing a handful of your ass as he fucked you. You felt his fingers wander, pushing into your asshole and pumping in and out as his cock stretched your pussy out.

It was all too much, you felt like you were going to burst!

He focused on your pussy at first, determined to successfully breed you. He blinked and stared down at his cock as it pushed in and out. Your pussy looked so pretty, stretching around him…

He kept going until he came inside of you, filling you up and making your belly bulge. It was an incredible sight, his eyes lighting up while his hand rubbed over your swollen belly.

But he was far from done with you. After filling you up, he turned you on your belly, lifting your hips up and pressing his cock into your asshole. It was a strange sensation. You had used toys on your pussy before, but had never tried with your ass…

He went crazy, his thrusts rough and fast. He couldn’t help it, seeing the way your fat rippled as he pounded into you was enough to drive a man mad.

Kappas loved ass, and he was no exception to this rule. He groaned as he melted into you, holding onto your hips and leaving imprints of his webbed fingers on your sensitive flesh.

The kappa was only satisfied once he had thoroughly claimed both your ass and pussy for himself, and finally curled up with you for a break. He was so happy, purring and snuggling with you.

Your body was sore and you felt exhausted, but you were strangely happy too. No human partner had ever treated you as something so beautiful and precious, but the kappa made sure to worship your body the entire time he mated with you.

With how swollen and heavy your belly was with cum, you had no doubt that if interbreeding with kappas was possible, you’d be heavily pregnant with his young in no time. He had filled you to the brim, and you were content to rest in his arms for the night.

As winter continued, you spent more time at home than usual, even requesting to work from home instead of going out every day. It was a lot more comfortable to be with your kappa lover all day.

After all, who would pick staying in a boring office and doing paperwork over going home and getting your brains fucked out by a handsome kappa?

Life sure as hell was different, but you couldn’t complain. You were happy, and no one would ever take you away from the kappa. He was your lover and protector for the rest of all time.

And he was more than happy to do it, too.

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - September 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!

1. A beam of hope for North America’s most endangered sparrow

“Dozens of conservationists, gathered some distance away to avoid spooking the skittish sparrows, celebrated the [release of the 1000th captive-raised sparrow] in an unprecedented recovery program that in only a few years has doubled the bird’s wild population, from a mere 80 five years ago to some 200 today. […] “What we have achieved is the best case scenario.””

2. U.S. overdose deaths plummet, saving thousands of lives

“"In the states that have the most rapid data collection systems, we’re seeing declines of twenty percent, thirty percent," said Dr. Nabarun Dasgupta, an expert on street drugs at the University of North Carolina. […] According to Donaldson, many people using fentanyl now carry naloxone, a medication that reverses most opioid overdoses. He said his friends also use street drugs with others nearby, ready to offer aid and support when overdoses occur.”

3. Propagated corals reveal increased resistance to bleaching across the Caribbean during the fatal heat wave of 2023

“”[… Y]oung corals bred for restoration are a lot more resistant to bleaching under extreme levels of heat stress than the prevailing corals on the reef." [… Unlike with the previous propagation strategy, fragmentation, e]very time a population reproduces, new offspring receive newly mixed sets of genes through recombination, making them different from their parent colonies and thus enabling adaptation.”

4. Habitat Management Helps At-Risk Butterflies

“For a number of at-risk butterflies in the United States, habitat management can play an important role in keeping them from going extinct. [… “In] places where people are actively engaged with ways to manage the habitat, the butterflies are doing the best,” said Cheryl Schultz, a professor of conservation biology at Washington State University[….]”

5. Study: Protecting the ocean helps fight malnutrition

“[The study] found that fish catches in coral reefs could increase by up to 20 percent by expanding sustainable-use marine protected areas — that is, areas where some fishing is allowed with restrictions[, … and] that sustainable-use marine protected areas have on average 15 percent more fish biomass than non-protected areas. […] “Allowing regulated fishing in marine protected areas can support healthy fish populations, while also having a positive impact on the quality of life of surrounding communities.””

6. [FWS] Advances Effort to Create Urban Conservation Footprint in Tucson

““We want to continue to work together to create an urban footprint to improve access to nature, conserve habitats, and improve air and water quality.” […] The area provides habitat for several federally listed species, including southwestern willow flycatcher, western yellow-billed cuckoo, and Mexican garter snake. If protected, the area will also help connect critical habitat for jaguar and Chiracahua leopard frog.”

7. ‘Exciting’ solar breakthrough means energy can be kept in sustainable batteries that don’t overheat

“The technology is based on a specially designed molecule of carbon, hydrogen and nitrogen that changes shape when it comes into contact with sunlight. These are common elements - providing an alternative to other technologies relying on scarce materials like lithium. […] A unique feature of the system is that the molecules also provide cooling in the photovoltaic cell[, which can store solar energy “for up to 18 years.”]”

8. Sea turtles make big comeback on sandy beaches at 2 British military bases in Cyprus

“[… The] number of nests surpass[ed] last year’s record count by nearly 25%, environmentalists said Tuesday. […] “The steep increase in turtle nests has been the result of a consistent, systematic ‘hands-off’ approach, together with enforcement efforts to minimize illegal, damaging activities on nesting beaches[….” D]aily patrols by volunteers ensure that aluminum cages set atop the nests remain in place to protect the turtles from predators like foxes and dogs.”

9. First ever photograph of rare bird species New Britain Goshawk

“The last documented scientific record of the bird is from 1969[….] Working closely with [“the Indigenous Mengen and Mamusi peoples”], WWF hopes to support local stewardship to safeguard the future of these incredible biodiversity hotspots through community-led conservation.”

10. Hospitals begin offering breakthrough radiation therapy for metastatic cancer tumors

“[First,] a patient is injected with a radioactive glucose (or sugar) tracer. The machine picks up the tracer in real time and in bright colors, [… then] reads a signal from the cancer cells breaking down the tracer. [… “The] machine is automatically and autonomously reacting and responding to those signals by shooting radiation back to their source[….]””

September 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[feitanii-ll]

巛—𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘 𝗪 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗞—⫸

[[ knight !reader x royal !link scenarios ]]

you've been assigned to him for as long as you could remember. people have observed your bond, and it's quite obvious that you're the only reasonable match— the only one he's willing to let take care of him. you wouldn't want to change that fact either, but taking care of link comes with an unfathomable amount of responsibility. such as...

★ "put down that damn frog!"

you're the closest you've ever been to a heart attack at this point. taking the prince out on a voyage where there were monsters lurking about was the last thing you had wanted to do, but unable to resist his insistent, silent pouting, you couldn't exactly denyhim what he wanted.

he's cute when he's curious, which is everyday. you let him roam around with his large observational book, studying and taking notice of whatever shroom or flower was blooming by whatever random tree.

speaking of a tree, you figured to set up a small campsite under a large tree not too far away from the castle. there was a fire going in a pot, and the boy had been throwing random food stuff inside and hoping for the best dish to come from it. you watch with a soft smile— that is, until it deflates as you spot a few bokoblins a little too close and sigh, standing up.

"Stay here." you mumble softly, to which the boy smiles and nods, eyes glued to the way you reach up to grip the handle of your sword, pulling it up and out of its sheathe.

yoi don't take long— really you don't. the bokoblin type was blue, more than easy to take down. you don't even break a sweat until you begin walking back to the tree, only to feel your breath hitch and your heart stop. that damn monster of curiosity (or, link) was holding a poor frog over the pot, probably more than ready to drop it in for Hylia knows what.

your shouting startles the boy, making him go wide-eyed and sheepish as you storm up to him. you take a second to glare before snatching the creature from his hands and setting it back into the small body of water that he was most likely snatched from.

"seriously? I was gone for five minutes." you protest.

his face goes expressive,

'it's for science!' he signs

"I know, link... you always say that." you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, opening your eyes to see him flipping frantically through his research book before holding it open, shoving the open page in your face.

a silly healing elixir that he had been mentioning non-stop. it was probably the reason he was so adamant about tagging along.

"yes, my liege, I know about the elixir. but if you want it so bad, why don't you just simply buy one?" you suggest, exhaustion in your voice.

his face scrunches in disgust at the idea, throwing the book down before signing again,

'too far. want to experience creating it on my own'

you look from his hands to his face, being met with his saddened eyes. if he were anyone else...

"fine..." you mumble, to which he silently celebrates, "just, not in front of me, please?"

'thank you.' he steps closer, and you smile.

'no problem'. you sign back.

* * *

★ "please be careful, my liege." you voice to the blonde prince.

he'd gladly tell you that he was fine if his hands weren't currently full. if anyone else saw how you and link interacted outside of the castle, you're sure you'd be killed for your crimes.

maybe it wasn't a good idea to let the prince of hyrule use your sword and swing it around however he pleased, but in your professional opinion— he's a natural.

"you're doing great!" you smile, shaking your head as he was caught up in his own little world. and he really was. so great that he couldn't heat a word you said. holding a weapon just felt so natural to him, and he absolutely loved it when you offered it up for him to use during leisure time.

his swings are heavy and lethal, but it's obvious to you that he isn't pacing himself. the movements are so natural that he doesn't even comprehend the strain it's putting on his body— not until his swing is stopped.

link looks down at his tightened grasp on the handle, but looseness it as he realizes that you had caught his wrist. his disgruntled expression softens significantly as he looks up at you in awe and embarrassment as you hold his wrists with one hand, and remove the handle the handle from his grip with the other.

"that's enough," tour voice rings through his head as you chuck the sword to the side, face growing serious as you keep holding his wrists, "you alright?"

he can't respond with occupied hands, and so he nods, heart pounding at your serious expression. he wonders what he's done wrong, or what should be wrong, until he begins to feel an ache in his back and shoulders, making him wince. you notice.

"I know that feeling... it's why I stopped you." you explain whilst removing your hands from him. "you're good, but you're straining yourself. you're not fit for that type of intensity."

he mouths a small 'oh', and you sigh, frowning as he rubs his aching shoulder.

"it's alright... I've got something to heal you right up."

the male smiles softly, nodding in appreciation. you were always taking care of him like this. but your encouragement for him to get a little rough and rowdy is why he liked you so much. though you wanted him safe, you weren't constantly sheltering him. he hated that.

he taps your shoulder, to which you turn to him,

'sorry.'

you smile and shake your head, "don't apologize. you did really good my liege. wonder what you'd be like as a knight, actually." you chuckle.

he smiles back, letting the butterflies float around in his tummy.

* * *

★ "what do you think you're doing?"

you felt like you've done this... a lot. for the umpteenth time, you've caught the prince walking around the castle grounds, barefoot, and draped in a softened blanket as he attempts to protect himself from the nighttime breeze.

the look he gives you is one of disappointment as he thinks you're going to take him back inside, but he's pleasantly surprised when you shake your head and simply rest a hand on his shoulder, guiding him forward.

"Don't worry...I'll sit with you."

he smiles, clutching the blanket tighter. beyond the wall, he can spot the swaying of the grass, the wispyness of the clouds in the deep blue sky, and the stillness of the ancient guardians that settled into the ground. he truly loves his kingdom, and you can see it true. he walks until he reaches a spot that makes it easy to see the vast land and takes a seat on the edge of the castle walls.

"this is nice..." you sigh as you sit beside him

he nods, and your eyes glance over to him incase he's ready to talk back. and he does:

'I think I enjoy nighttime the best.' he signs, glancing between you and the beautiful view amongst him, 'sometimes, i think about running. I want to explore.'

you heart aches

"I know, my liege... I'm sorry you feel trapped." you whisper

to your surprise, he laughs softly, shaking his head, 'not trapped... just hidden potential'

you smile. such a purse and positive response. his head turns to face you, eyes so blue that you can't help but observe them thoroughly. he scoots closer beside you, careful, as to not fall, and rest his head on your shoulder.

"I think..." you wrap his blanket around him tighter, "I think we were definitely meant to be this way, my liege." you whisper, and watch as his eyes flutter shut

but not before he nods in agreement, and your heart tate spikes at what he says next.

his hands don't communicate, no. nit this time. instead, you're blessed with a sound ao angelic, so soft that you'd dread if you accidentally missed it.

"I think so too..." he whispers.

* * *

[traeumenvonbuechern]

Historical Romances by Black Authors

Aphrodite wishes to escape the marriage mart but will a second chance with the elusive Duke of Everely change her mind? Aphrodite Du Bell is a diamond of the first water and a favourite of the queen. But her renowned loveliness didn't stop the love of her life, Evander Eagleman, from jilting her and marrying another woman four years ago. Aphrodite has been in self-imposed exile ever since. However, when her formidable mother summons her back to London Aphrodite has no choice but to acquiesce. Upon her return, Aphrodite learns that the newly widowed Evander is in town and, despite her best efforts, the grand society events of the season repeatedly push them together. With each encounter, Aphrodite's traitorous feelings make it perfectly clear that the Duke still holds court over her heart. Why did Evander cast Aphrodite aside all those years ago, and now that they have a second chance, can the couple make strides to mend past hurts?

Ailsa Connery has waited three long years to finally escape her enslavement at Stirling Castle and reunite with her clan. But her carefully laid plans are completely destroyed by the arrival of the infamous Highland warrior known as Dubh Mahoun, the Black Devil…who has plans of his own. Kallum MacNeill's fearsome reputation has long allowed him to keep hidden his secret double life of freeing enslaved captives across the land. It's only when he kidnaps a servant lass—quite by accident—that he finds himself facing a wee predicament. He must accompany the lass home or risk her exposing his true identity. It'd be easy enough…if the feisty hellion didn't fight him at every turn. As they make their way to the Highlands, the perils the two must face are surpassed only by their constant sparring. Soon, their heated sniping sparks heat of a totally different kind. The kind that ignites a hunger that could consume them both. Yet the difficult journey is no match for the dangerous secrets they're about to uncover.

The first novel in USA Today Bestselling Author Beverly Jenkins’s compelling new series follows a Northern woman south in the chaotic aftermath of the Civil War . . . Valinda Lacy’s mission in the steamy heart of New Orleans is to help the newly emancipated community survive and flourish. But soon she discovers that here, freedom can also mean danger. When thugs destroy the school she has set up and then target her, Valinda runs for her life—and straight into the arms of Captain Drake LeVeq. As an architect from an old New Orleans family, Drake has a deeply personal interest in rebuilding the city. Raised by strong women, he recognizes Valinda’s determination. And he can’t stop admiring—or wanting—her. But when Valinda’s father demands she return home to marry a man she doesn’t love, her daring rebellion draws Drake into an irresistible intrigue.

A fun and feminist Regency romp from a master of the genre hailed as "a delight" by Bridgerton author Julia Quinn. Nothing happens in London without Graham Wynchester knowing. His massive collection of intelligence is invaluable to his family’s mission of aiding those most in need. So when he deciphers a series of coded messages in the scandal sheets, Graham’s convinced he must come to a royal’s rescue. But his quarry turns out not to be a princess at all… The captivating Kunigunde de Heusch is anything but a damsel in distress, and the last thing she wants is Graham’s help. All her life, Kuni trained alongside the fiercest Royal Guardsmen in her family, secretly planning to become her country’s first Royal Guardswoman. This mission in London is a chance to prove herself worthy without help from a man, not even one as devilishly handsome as Graham. To her surprise, Graham believes in her dream as much as she does, which makes it harder to resist kissing him…and falling in love. But how can she risk her heart if her future lies an ocean away? 

Jane Austen meets The Princess and the Frog For as long as Prairie can remember, living in paradise has been boring. Her days are filled with helping at her family's resort, sewing, daydreaming, and observing fashionable guests from the sidelines. But when a fairytale-Esque opportunity arises, she does something out of character and agrees to marry a man she's never met. Suddenly, she's navigating a new life that is a world and an ocean away from everything she's ever known. Her new husband, Wright, is decidedly Mr. Wrong. If there's a schedule, he'll ignore it. If there is a rule, he'll break it. If there's a risk, he'll take it. Has the girl who has always had a plan finally met her match? If you're a fan of TV shows like 'Vanity Fair', 'Bridgerton' and 'The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina' or enjoy reading comedies of manners, you'll love 'That, My Dear, Is Love.' This is a full-length, standalone novel featuring a diverse ensemble cast, whimsical magic, and hilarious misadventures. This is a clean romance with a HEA. Featuring some of your favorite tropes: Marriage of Convenience Opposites Attract Reformed Rake

The Davenports delivers a totally escapist, swoon-worthy romance while offering a glimpse into a period of African American history often overlooked. The Davenports are one of the few Black families of immense wealth and status in a changing United States, their fortune made through the entrepreneurship of William Davenport, a formerly enslaved man who founded the Davenport Carriage Company years ago. Now it's 1910, and the Davenports live surrounded by servants, crystal chandeliers, and endless parties, finding their way and finding love—even where they’re not supposed to. There is Olivia, the beautiful elder Davenport daughter, ready to do her duty by getting married . . . until she meets the charismatic civil rights leader Washington DeWight and sparks fly. The younger daughter, Helen, is more interested in fixing cars than falling in love—unless it’s with her sister’s suitor. Amy-Rose, the childhood friend turned maid to the Davenport sisters, dreams of opening her own business—and marrying the one man she could never be with, Olivia and Helen’s brother, John. But Olivia’s best friend, Ruby, also has her sights set on John Davenport, though she can’t seem to keep his interest . . . until family pressure has her scheming to win his heart, just as someone else wins hers. Inspired by the real-life story of the Patterson family, The Davenports is the tale of four determined and passionate young Black women discovering the courage to steer their own path in life—and love.

[seventeenytiny]

✿ Spring Fever✿

Smut: Minors DNI

You and Hyunjin go for a walk through a local nature trail and things get pretty heated.  Contains: public sex, fingering, female reader, slight name calling, squirting, unprotected sex (assume reader is on birth control)

Word Count: 1500

Author’s note: I am absolutely obsessed with the idea of Hyunjin and public sex. I apologize for this being a bit rough, I have no excuse, english is my first langue, I just suck at writing right now :))).  

You take a deep breath, welcoming the fresh air into your lungs. The sunlight that you have missed all winter warms your skin as you listen to the birds chirping. You could hardly believe how much happiness blue skies could bring you after months of endless gray. You hold Hyunjin’s hand tightly as the two of you walk down the path of your favorite nature trail, placing kisses on each other's cheeks, simply enjoying the moment. The trail was quiet, it was a bit of a hidden gem in your town, not everyone knew about it. Long, overgrown grass surrounded the edges of the trail, offering a bit of privacy.

You notice a small trail that leads off the main one, a tiny clearing in the long grass, most likely made by a deer.

“Hyunjin, look, there's a little trail there. Can we go see where it leads to?”

He smiles and nods. “I think there might be a little pond that way, maybe we can find some frogs.”

Hyunjin takes the lead, pulling you behind him, protecting you from any cobwebs on the long grass. You admired his strong figure leading you, how could someone be so perfect? Hyunjin was hard to resist, you couldn't help yourself as reached forward, grabbing his ass. He takes a deep breath and stops. You can sense a change in demeanor, he stares straight ahead, his voice low, “You’re going to regret that.”

You don’t even have time to respond before he’s pulling you along again. His words send a tingling sensation straight to your core.

The two of you finally make it through the grass, the trail opens up to a small clearing and a large pond. You walk up to the edge of the pond, taking in the breathtaking view as Hyunjin holds you from behind.

“Look at the ducks over there. Aren’t they adorable?” you pointed out.

“Yeah... they’re cute,” he mumbles. While Hyunjin would generally be very interested in such a sight, his mind was elsewhere. He let you know what he was truly thinking about by slowly grinding into your ass. You tensed up for a second after feeling how hard he was before slowly relaxing into it. Hyunjin’s hand began to travel the front of your body, one hand grabbing your breast, the other pushing your hips closer to him. You relaxed completely against his body, letting him do whatever he wants. You tilt your head to the side to allow him to suck on your neck, knowing there would be little red marks for you to have to deal with later.

“Such a naughty girl... letting me touch you like this out here,” he whispers, his voice deep and sultry.

Too shy to answer, you pull away from his grasp, desperately grabbing his face to press your lips onto his. Your lips move against one another, his tongue slips into your mouth as he grabs your ass. You moan into his mouth, enjoying every second of his touch. You find yourself attempting to grind on his upper thigh, desperate to feel something down there.

Suddenly he freezes up, his hand goes up to your mouth to keep you silent. He leans close to your ear, “Be quiet, Princess.”

The two of you stay in that position for what felt like an hour, although it wasn't any longer than a minute. You wait until you hear the voices of the people walking by pass. The two of you had gotten so carried away, simply forgetting you were in public.

Hyunjin wastes little time getting back to work, his hand slips under your dress, feeling your wet panties. “Does my little Princess get turned on by the thought of other people catching her being a slut?” he coos into your ear.

His words make you melt, you’re so turned on but too shy to respond.

“I need to hear your words, Princess. Does the idea of me fucking you out here where anyone can see turn you on?” His finger slides past your panties, entering your soaking wet pussy. A quiet ‘yes’ slips past your lips, but that's not enough for him.

He slides another finger into you, thrusting them in and out, “What was that baby girl? I can’t give you anything more unless I know being a slut like this turns you on.”

“Fuck, Hyunjin, yes I love it, please just fuck me, I’m begging you.”

“That’s what I needed to hear baby girl, take your panties off for me, please.”

You quickly slip off your panties as he undoes his pants, he pulls them down just enough to release his cock. You watched with eagerness as his hard cock springs up from the confines of his pants. He gives himself a few pumps before he pushes you up against a nearby tree. He looks around to make sure no one is nearby before he lifts your skirt up, teasing your entrance with his cock.

“I need you to be quiet, okay Princess?”

You nod in reply, both of your hands are up against the tree to help keep you steady. He places one hand over your mouth to help stifle any possible moans, his other hand around his cock as he guides it to your entrance. He pushes into you, you're thankful for the hand that covers your mouth as you let out the most sinful sound.

“Shhhh I know it's hard baby girl, you gotta be quiet.”

After giving you a second to adjust to him, he begins to move. His cock stretches you out in the best way possible. You manage to keep quiet, the only thing you can hear is the wet squelching sound as he thrusts in and out of your pussy.

Hyunjin whispers into your ear, “Listen to how wet you are, you really are a slut, letting me fuck you wherever I want.”

“Hyunjin... you're going to make me cum if you keep talking like that.”

Your voice is already unsteady, losing yourself in pleasure. Hyunjin reaches around you, drawing little circles on your clit as he continues to thrust in and out.

“Are you going to cum already? I had no idea how kinky my little Princess was...”

He continues on for a bit before picking up the pace, his hips snapping into yours at an all-new speed.

“I’m gonna cum...”

“Do it, I got you, Princess.” He places a kiss behind your ear, his warm breath tickling you, your mind starts to go blank.

You feel the heat in your core build up as your legs start to shake, you decide to not hold back anymore, letting your orgasm wash over you. You can feel your juices running down your leg, more and more coming out with each thrust. You can’t believe you're actually squirting, you’ve never been able to do it before. Your cum continues to pour out of you as you get lost in pleasure.

Hyunjin feels your wetness coat his cock, soaking his jeans. He’s dreamed of the moment of being able to make you squirt, and now it's finally happening. Your orgasm triggers his own, he grunts into your ear as he fills you with his cum. He gives you a couple more thrusts as he rides out the pleasure before slowly pulling out.

He holds you tightly against his body as you regain your balance after your intense orgasm. He pulls away only to watch the mixture of his and your cum drip out of you into the earth beneath you.

You turn to him, only to see the front of his jeans wet from your orgasm. You start apologizing, but he cuts you off by kissing your lips deeply.

“Don’t even try to apologize Y/N, that was the hottest shit I've ever seen,”

You blush before kissing him again, “I love you Hyunjin.”

“I love you too Princess, let's get cleaned up.”

The two of you help the other clean up, you grab the panties you discarded earlier to try to soak up the excess dampness on his pants before using them to wipe yourself dry. You tuck the dirty panties into your purse to deal with later, deciding to finish the walk home with nothing on underneath. Hyunjin takes his zip-up hoodie off and ties it around his waist, using it to cover most of the wet stain on his pants.

The two of you look at the lake one last time before finishing your walk home. He wraps his arm around you and places a kiss on your temple.

“So do you wanna come back here for a walk tomorrow? Maybe we can actually look for frogs.”

You giggle, “I have a feeling we will never be able to come back to this spot just to look for frogs.”

Hyunjin grabs your hand and begins to lead you back to the main path of the trail.

“Oh yeah, you were right Y/N, those ducks were actually pretty cute earlier.”

[talaok]

Close your eyes

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Summary: After a few months of living in your new cabin on Nevarro, Din confesses to you he's ready to take the next step.

warnings: smut| oral sex (f receiving) and baby-making sex

[I know his name isn't Din but I couldn't bring myself to call him Djarin, sorry]

"he's getting really good at it" you sighed happily.

You and Din sat on the porch of the new cabin Greef Karga had granted you.

The air smelled fresh, the sky was beautiful as the sun set, and your head rested on Din's shoulder while his arm kept you close.

Grogu was "playing" with the frogs inhabiting the pond right in front of the house, although I'm not sure the frogs would have called it that.

Everything was alright.

After all this time, these fights, these adventures, everything was fine, actually, more than fine.

It was perfect.

"he is" he agreed, his thumb stoking your side "but he still needs training"

You scoffed "Please, he could beat you with a flick of his hand"

He laughed "he wishes"

"don't worry" you pretended to reassure him "There's no shame in being the least strong of the family"

"least strong?"

"weakest sounded mean" You bit down a smirk

"You think you could take me?"

"I know I could take you"

" Sweetheart, there's only one way you can take me," he said "and even for that you needed training"

you felt heat rise to your cheeks at the remark, and it was as if you could see the smug grin tugging at his lips even through the helmet.

"Don't flatter yourself mando" You placed a hand on his chest "there's many ways I can take you" you explained "What you're thinking of is just the one you like the most"

His hold on your side got tighter "I sure do like it"

"do you?" you mocked, raising a brow " Would have never guessed it" you giggled, hearing him chuckle also.

Your eyes trailed to the sun behind him, its light almost completely engulfed by the horizon.

"it's getting late," you said "The kid needs to go to sleep" You got up, walking to Grogu.

He didn't offer much resistance today, and you were able to pick him up with just an annoyed coo.

"say goodnight to Daddy" You stopped in front of the entrance, facing him towards Din.

He emitted the cutest sound you've ever heard, and as always, your heart warmed.

" 'night kid" he waved in return, before you stepped into the house.

In the few months you'd been living here you had managed to already make it a home.

Pictures and memories filled each shelf and empty space on the wall.

Grogu's room was small, but not any less full.

Din had built him a course where he could jump from the floor to the wall and to the ceiling thanks to some wooden panels.

The kid loved it. What was hard most times, was making him stop.

"alright" you smiled, setting him down into the crib Din had created for him "It's time to go to sleep sweetpea" You kissed his forehead, earning a happy coo "Sweet dreams" you whispered, glancing at him once more before turning to the door.

You almost gasped as you saw Din standing there, casually leaning on the side of it.

You shook your head, laughing a bit as you followed him outside, closing the door behind you.

"you scared me" you scolded him

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he said, stoking your cheek.

He paused for a second, like he was hesitant, before speaking again.

"you're really good with him," he said

"I know"

"I mean... you're good with kids"

"thank you?"

He let out a breathy laugh, 

"he seems happy"

"well he's got a family" you smiled "We all do"

"right, but don't you think he's a bit..."

"What?"

"lonely?"

your mouth gaped open

"You mean...?"

"Maybe he needs someone his age to interact with"

"like a brother?" you intertwined your hands behind his neck, "you think we should give little Grogu a brother?" you grinned, not able to hide your excitement

You could hear his breathing from underneath the helmet.

he was nervous.

"would you like that?"

you paused, stunned at the fact he even had to ask.

"I would" you smiled so wide your cheeks hurt "I would really like that baby"

He let go of a sigh of relief, and you wondered for a moment, how long he'd been worrying about this.

He gripped your waist, his hands loving yet hard.

"then we better get to work" he smiled, not giving you any warning before picking you up.

A little squeak fled your throat as you grabbed onto him.

"Eager much?"

"you have no idea" he purred, kicking the bedroom door open and closed in one swift motion.

He sat on the bed and you ended up in his lap.

"Close your eyes, sweetheart" 

You were just waiting to hear that.

It was such a simple sentence, and yet it meant so much.

It was the symbol of trust and passion, but most importantly, of love.

It was his way of saying he would trust you over anything, and your way of saying it back.

You closed your eyes, the world going pitch black once more.

You heard a familiar sound, and then something hit the ground, 

his helmet.

Seconds passed, but the anticipation was so strong your skin felt on fire, and then, like water in the desert, came his lips on yours.

He kissed you sweetly, a way of thanking you, of loving you, and you kissed him back with everything you could.

Your hands went to his face, stoking and palming all you couldn't normally feel, while he was holding yours between his fingers like you were about to slip away.

"You're beautiful" he breathed, leaning back ever so slightly, 

"you too" you smiled, making him laugh.

"you can't see me"

"I can feel you," you said "I know you're handsome"

He kissed you again

"I love you"

"I love you too" you promised, but were quickly cut off by your own gasp as he quite literally manhandled you so your back was on the bed.

"maybe give me a warning next time?" you chuckled, as you felt his hand on your thighs.

He was kneeling in front of you.

"oh but I like the pretty sounds you make" he kissed your skin

"do you?"

"I do" he kissed you again, his trail getting closer to the hem of your skirt "I like them a lot" another peck "Although I do like some other sounds you make better"

"Like what?" you asked playfully

He grabbed the end of your skirt "Like the ones you make when you're desperate for me" 

"desperate?"

"yes, desperate" he murmured, pulling your skirt off.

Your mouth opened but you forced the gasp climbing your throat back from where it came from, making him chuckle.

"I'm never desperate"

You couldn't see it, but you could feel the smug smirk on his lips.

"Are you now, sweetheart?" he mocked, his fingers grazing your panties and making you hold your breath.

"I actually seem to recall many times where you were the one begging"

touché, he thought

"That's because you tease" he explained, his torturous fingers still just dancing on where you needed him the most.

"so you're telling me that I stopped touching you right now you'd be fine with it?" the bastard asked.

"Din..." 

"What?" he kissed your clothed cunt "You wouldn't be desperate would you?"

you sighed, frustrated "No, just-"

"What, baby, what is it?"

"don't stop"

"why?"

God, you hated him so much.

You'd never taken back something so quickly, but he was able to do that. That taunting asshole.

"Because I need you" you confessed "Please"

He smirked "There she is"

You didn't even have time to breathe that your panties were off of you.

He spread your legs, and you had to bite your lips in anticipation as he gripped your thighs.

"you're so wet baby" he groaned, his breath fanning against your core.

"I wonder why, you bastard" 

"Easy there" he kissed your clit, making you gasp "Wouldn't want me to stop," 

"Baby-"

he didn't let you finish as he finally dove in, his tongue tasting all of you before he started focusing on your clit.

"Oh my god" you whined, already a mess.

He was holding you firmly as your whole body begged to move.

"fuck baby, please" you moaned loudly, as he kept going unfazed.

It felt like a fire had started inside your body, and once his fingers grazed your hole, a bucket of gasoline spread it everywhere.

"din!" you cried once he pushed them in, your hand going to grip his hair.

"That's right, say my name sweetheart" he murmured as he pumped his digits in and out of you.

A filthy sound spread through the room, and you were shutting your eyes so forcefully you were seeing white dots.

"fuck, din" you breathed, feeling yourself get closer as he sucked your clit so perfectly.

His fingers curled inside of you, hitting your spot and making you cry, but his mouth didn't stop, licking and worshipping all of you.

"c'mon sweet girl, come for me, I know you're close" he murmured "I can feel it," he said, before resuming his work somehow even more intensely.

Shocks of pleasure kept coursing through you, but as he curled his fingers one more time, you were sent over the edge, your orgasm washing over you powerfully as you gripped his locks for dear life.

Who cares if you hurt him. He caused this.

"shit" You let out a breath, once you were done and he leaned away.

"You're so beautiful when you come honey," he said, taking your hand still on his head and kissing it softly " I wish you could see it" he murmured, leaning away.

You whined, reaching for him through the dark behind your eyelids "Where did you go?"

"I'm here baby" You heard some noises and then a louder one.

He had taken his suit off.

When you felt him again, he was holding your waist. Not for long, however, as his hands quickly started exploring your body, spreading goosebumps with his touch.

Then finally, you felt his digits infiltrate under your shirt, and in a moment, you were fully naked.

Next, his lips were on you, on your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, all painted with the sweetest of tiny pecks as he kept caressing your body.

One of your hands went to his back, keeping him close, while the other trailed down his bare chest longing for his manhood.

"please baby" you whined "I know I said I wasn't desperate before but I take it all back" you laughed softly "Please, I need you"

"You need me?" he kissed your mouth, and you nodded 

"I do"

"I do too" he purred, kissing you again before positioning himself at your entrance.

"you ready?"

"please"

And just like that, he thrusted into you.

You moaned far too loudly as he groaned.

For as many times as you'd felt him, you could never quite get used to it, he still stretched you in the best way.

"god" he growled "you feel so good sweetheart" he started moving "You're perfect" 

There were so many things you wanted to say, but his dick hitting you so deep was causing troubles to the communicating part of your brain.

"I can't believe you're mine" he spoke, "that you want this"

"of course I do" you moaned " I want to be yours Din" you cried "only yours"

The bed was creaking underneath you, and his thrusts were soft and sweet, but god if they weren't deep.

"I want to have your kid" 

"you do?" his breath fanned over your mouth

"I do, Din" you promised "I want to have another mini-you that will help you make me go mad" you laughed "I want to have a bigger family" you breathed "to be yours, forever"

He couldn't do anything but kiss you, hoping that at least one percent of his adoration for you passed through.

"I love you more than anything y/n" he said "and I want to give you my kid" he swore "to see in them all I see in you" he continued, as his thrust continued undaunted "and to grant them the best mother one could ask for"

You smiled widely, feeling tears prick your eyes.

"then do, baby" You intertwined your hands behind his neck, bringing his lips to yours "give me your kid"

[monster-ultra-yellow]

hm wetland field biology course this summer has got me thinking.

what if you had to wake up super early for class but your alarm didn't go off in time and so you had to rush out the door without being able to take your morning pee first because your professor wanted to leave at 8 am on the dot because there's a long drive ahead to the site you'll all be working in today. and of course they're not going to wait for you to use the bathroom on campus first before you all pile onto the bus because they already waited a good 5-10 minutes for you to get there and they don't want to wait any longer.

so you grit your teeth and board the bus, hauling your heavy bag with you and setting it on your lap so your classmates have room to sit still, the bulk of it digging into your torso in a way that you can't quite make comfortable and that pushes into you even more whenever your bus hits a bumpy stretch of road (all the more common the further you stray from civilization), or when the person sitting next to you shifts around, or when you have to pull your water bottle out for a drink, and boy do you--the bus is stuffy already, and as the summer day begins to heat up more, it's only getting worse. and it's not like the water stored in your bladder is going to get reabsorbed back into your dehydrating body, is it?

after a couple long hours, you finally reach the site your class will be working in today. you wince as you drag yourself out of your seat with your bag behind you--fortunately, it's heavy enough that you don't look too suspicious stepping out onto the gravel road hunched-over. the professor begins relaying the plans for today as the rest of the class stands around, as attentive as they can be on this humid hot day, but you're too distracted by the growing, now almost painful pressure in your lower abdomen to pay them any mind. you look behind you to see if there's maybe any shrubs you can step behind real quick to relieve yourself--

and it's all standing water. it's a gentle, mucky slope down into an emergent marsh, covered in lily pads with cattails and arrowheads sticking out from the span of murky water. water that's gently rippling against the vegetation with every gust of wind. water that's broken by the occasional splash of a frog leaping out, or perhaps an osprey diving in. water that's running down the back of a diving duck as it resurfaces, dribbling back down into the pond in a way only you can notice. and it's deep, too, going far up these cattail stems and oh God. you have to wear your chest waders today. your heavy, heavy, waterproof chest waders, so you can get deep into the marsh.

you tune back in to your lesson as the rest of the class slips into their own waders--you don't know why you're going in there today, all you know is that you are and you need to put on your waders and that can only begin with an excruciating kneel down to untie your sneakers. you take as deep a breath as you can handle to steel yourself before slowly lowering yourself down, just enough so you can pee your pants--no. so you can untie your shoes. but you peed a little, just now. did you? no you didn't. you're being paranoid. you're not pissing your pants as a grown college student, and certainly not in front of your class. you can't be, so you're not. and so you untied one shoe without leaking again (but you didn't leak, you can't have, please not here and not now). you can't handle the idea of shifting your weight onto your other knee to untie your second shoe, so you choose the worse idea of contorting yourself enough to reach the other sneakers laces in your current position, which jams your overfilling bladder into your knee in a way that definitely didn't squeeze another spurt out, no way it did. and then you stand up, gripping onto the thighs of your pants to resist your urge to grab your crotch instead as the mass inside you shifts down, pressing harder than ever.

but your waders. you need your waders. fuck.

you kick off your sneakers and grab for your chest waders and, stifling a whimper, lift your leg up like a dog who's about to pee in the grass, wouldn't that feel so nice, it all gushing out and splattering against the ground, but you're not a dog, you're a field biology student that needs to put your chest waders on and you can't afford to pee yourself like you almost did just now. and so you lift your leg and your thigh pushes even harder into your now-distended bladder as you wrangle your limb into your oversized waders, followed by your second leg and another squirt into your pants (maybe it's a good thing you're wearing waders today, so nobody can see the wet spot you think is growing on your pants now). after bending down to help pull your waders up over your legs and sensitive, bulging abdomen, kneading your bladder like a ball of dough with your stupid little "I bought the wrong size and these are too big to easily put on" dance, your clip your waders on with the buckles by your shoulders and you are ready.

and by the time you finished, everyone else had already moved past you, and you can see them several yards away already, standing around the professor as they show you some stupid fucking plant with water dripping from the roots and splashing onto the water below.

you should get a move on, so you do. and you step into the mucky slope, and it's soft. it's muck, so of course it is, it's just mud but shittier. but you're moving! you're moving and you're making it over to your class and maybe you can say you just had a ton of rocks in your show and that's why you were slow! or maybe you were getting another drink because it's so hot out today, and the thought of water, a whole gallon of it, sloshing around in a water bottle with every step just like your pee is sloshing inside you with every step, just thinking about it is making each drop of that gallon trickle into your bladder and it hurts--

and it released another spurt, much larger than it had before, as you suddenly plunge into the muck up to your hips. guess it was a steep drop into the water!

you clench down harder than you ever have in your life as you try to stop the stream and not think about that splash as you fell into the water and definitely not think about how your whole class is looking at you now. and they want you to come over, of course, so you don't hold them up even more. so you try to go over. but you cant. the muck has sucked you right in, and every time you jerk your leg to free yourself, your hold over your bladder muscles gets weaker and weaker, with every jolt of force from your leg and hips smashing into the great rock in your abdomen, jostling even more pee out of it with every move you make to try to free yourself.

and now one of your classmates is coming over to free you, and theyre splashing so much water around as they move towards you, and you can't stop peeing--you can't stop peeing? you can't stop peeing! your bladder, with a stubborn, angry shock of pain, has decided it finally had enough, and now youre helplessly filling your waterproof waders with fresh, hot pee as you look in the eyes of your classmate coming to rescue you from the muck.

how are you supposed to explain to them that you can't join the rest of your class, because your waders are so filled with your pee that they're too heavy to safely walk in the water with now?

[willowser]

angsty to begin with bc i love to talk about fighting with bakugou LOL but it gets lighter, i promise 💕✨️

you can track katsuki's heated discovery through his footsteps.

the front door closes harshly enough that the house trembles, echoing down your spine at his arrival; it feels sudden, now, though—looking at the clock—you've been waiting for hours. his day has no doubt been just as tumultuous as yours, but his resounding frustration—both new and old—bleeds through the walls all too well.

it means something that he doesn't take off his boots; what's always been regarded as a criminal offense now bares his impatience, reveals how full his mind is of the things he needs to say. underneath the comforter, your toes curl, heart thudding heavy as his heels as he lumbers for the bedroom.

—only to come up empty.

an indistinguishable curse shoots from his mouth, across the house. first murmured and then chanted over and over again as he tears down the hall and back into the living room. you've left your shoes out for this reason, as well as a plate in the sink and a candle burning on the end table beside the couch.

you're still here; you want him to know that.

it's silent long enough for you to realize you're holding your breath, straining to hear his every move. your cheeks are salted with tears—both new and old—and you wipe at them cautiously, as if such a movement could give you away; it's not that you want to stay hidden, but you're nervous for what will unfold, when he finds you.

not because you're afraid of him, never of him, but—you just don't want to fight anymore.

the door to the guest room is thrown open suddenly, with an urgency that makes your heart pound and your eyes snap shut.

katsuki smells like work, strongly; sweet and musky like sweat; a once-roaring campfire; evidence of the city—smog and fried food and some amalgamation of strangers—soaked into the fabric of his hero clothes. you sniff once, wet and distracted, and it gives you away instantly.

the sound makes him sigh, though from relief or annoyance, you can't tell. maybe both. a weight he's placed on your chest dares to lighten as he shuffles closer, no doubt dragging mud across the carpet, and the warmth of his body so close is all too alluring; you peek up at him once he sits at your side, but he's just leaning his elbows onto his knees, staring at the wall.

"guess you're sleepin' in here, then."

this bed lacks the indentation you've worn into katsuki's mattress, but the comfort of it wouldn't help you to sleep anyway. not after today. after all that's been said.

your voice is very small when you speak, tip-toeing. "yeah, i think i will."

he shakes his head like you're being ridiculous, and you try not to let the action prod your still tender wounds. a harsh hand runs over his face and through his hair, tugging off the mask that had been buried there. it dangles loosely between his fingers as he fiddles with it, keeping his eyes from you as long as he can.

"y'want me to stay in here too?"

you don't. it's the whole reason you moved your pillow into the guestroom to begin with and you think he should know that, but he's still—trying. a fresh frog develops in your throat at the sentiment; it's always the softer side or katsuki that packs the heavier punch.

a weighted silence settles in the space between you, the words sour in your mouth. for a brief and tense moment, you wonder if you can get away with not saying it, without having to reject him—but then he peeks at you over his shoulder, all smoldering embers. waiting.

"that's okay," you offer a weak smile in an attempt to soften the blow. "you can have the room tonight."

katsuki rears, resisting with a huff. "well, i don't have to. and you—we can—y'don't have to sleep alone."

still trying; you can hear it in his voice, well-hidden beneath his exasperation, a slight tremble born from the fear that you'll leave him in an empty bed. so far removed from the tone used with you this morning.

you can still see his face when you close your eyes: how red it gets, the vein in his neck that swells with blood when he's yelling, lips curled like he's so angry he could spit. the argument hadn't started on any serious note, but you had something to say and so did he, and it went on and on until you were fighting less about the subject matter and more about each other. rights and wrongs that had been left unattended for too long, that had begun to fester.

it's not like you were particularly soft-spoken either, but—like most things, with katsuki—you didn't stand a chance against him.

"i know, but," you bite your lip and lose your words, settling for a shrug that only serves to annoy him further.

"fine," he grumbles, shooting up from the mattress to storm out of the room. "whatever. goodnight."

the door follows closely behind him, banging against the frame with less force than it could have, though the silence he leaves behind feels just as painful. you roll onto your back to wipe at the fresh wave of tears that pool in your eyes, groaning quietly into the emptiness.

fighting with katsuki isn't the hardest part. making up is.

it took long enough for him to place his heart comfortably in your hands, to reach the point where he felt safe enough to share his feelings with you, but his trepidations lie in wait; any sort of rejection when he's already so vulnerable is liable to have him locking his every last door.

and you know he doesn't mean it; it's instinctual, a defense mechanism he's kept in place all his life. retreating away to hide, when he's sorry and asking for absolution, is the safest route for him.

when you're finally done pawing at your eyes, the shower sounds from down the hall and you imagine him in there, head bowed under the violently hot water, trying to wash his frustrations away. his skin is always so pink and tender when he gets out, and you feel a pang of loneliness at what you'll miss in a bed without him. for tonight, all you have to hold is the idea of him, and you listen closely to the stream as if it will offer something more.

it runs for long enough that you begin to forge an excuse to go in and check on him, but just as you start to justify it, the water shuts off. you feel thwarted—though it was a silly plan—and the hope of getting to see him for one final time tonight crashes, has tears welling up again.

but before they can spill over, a soft knock sounds at the door.

you turn away despite wanting for him, and answer. "yeah?"

the door creaks, room warming with him in it. katsuki doesn't say anything until you finally roll over to look at him, his hair damp and flat, forehead resting against the wood as he watches you from the corner of his eye. head bowed, like a scolded child.

"'ve got...shit to do with my old man tomorrow." he murmurs. "but i should be back by lunch."

even if you are at odds, another bout of loneliness grows at the thought of waiting, sitting in the house without him. "okay, thank you for letting me know."

just barely are you able to make out the shift of his eyes down to the carpet, the growing frown on his face before he groans quietly to himself. when he stands properly, you admire the soft curve of his muscles, his shoulders, as he crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"goodnight," he tells you again, nicer this time. you whisper it in return and there's some finality, for the night; his jaw cocks and his head shakes again, like he can't stand this shit. you know he can't. katsuki squeezes his eyes shut tight and when he fixes them on you, they are full and sad, but he doesn't look away. not this time. "y'know...that i love you, right?"

your restraint buckles, nearly slipping through your hands, and you sit up to catch it. more than anything, you want to open your arms and allow him into this bed with you, the way you always do, but your sore heart stops the words from forming.

instead you tell him, quietly, seriously, "and i love you too, katsuki."

his frown only deepens and he turns with a heavy sigh, dragging the door gently behind him.

katsuki's all might mug is waiting on the edge of the counter the next morning, still steaming.

for you, because he doesn't drink coffee, and when you step up to it, you can tell by the color that he's added too much cream. the gesture makes you smile regardless, softening aches and pains from the night before.

he doesn't say anything when you sit at the bar counter, doesn't look up either, just continues putting away whatever he's used to make his protein shake. you can see the tension still lining his every move, the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows hard and ducks his head and acts like you don't exist here at the end of the kitchen, waiting.

twice he walks by without saying anything, busying himself with a backpack sitting by the couch. he spends a few minutes staring into the hall closet before grabbing a jacket you haven't seen him wear in months, and then he sets it with his other things and strides back to the kitchen and—has to face you.

the shadows under his eyes are dark and heavy, like he didn't get much more sleep than you did.

"shouldn't take me all morning," he speaks softly, like he would to a newborn. so, so far from how he spoke to you yesterday. "if y'need somethin' while i'm out, just—" call him, he means, though he trails off with a shrug.

"okay," you nod and sip your coffee, accepting his olive branch. "i will, thank you."

katsuki chews on his lip before finally returning to the living room to gather his things, and he waits until your back is to him before speaking again. "unless you don't want me to go." he huffs, like he's already frustrated. "i can stay and we can...figure all this shit out."

"no," you shake your head and swivel around to frown at him. "no, you should go spend time with your dad. we can talk later."

"'s not a big deal if i cancel, i can call him right now if you want me to stay."

"no, katsuki, i wouldn't want you to do that." your brow furrows and the knot that gets stuck in his throat is almost visible, as his gaze shifts to the wall beside you, avoidant. "i think it'd be good if we—"

"fuck, if you want me to get out, just say so."

"no, that's not—" the irritation you felt yesterday wakes once more and your stomach twists at the fear that this will devolve into another screaming match. your already thin patience snaps, echoes like the ceramic of your mug against the counter when you set it down. "i'm not saying that. at all. i just don't think you should cancel on your dad if you've already made plans. you said yourself it's not gonna take all morning, so we'll talk after."

"well," he scoffs, indignant, throwing his arms up in the air like he's exasperated—but you don't miss the slight wobble of his chin, how long it takes him to sound out his own words. "you even gonna be here when i get back?"

"well, yeah, honey, where else would i—"

"'m not gonna come home 'n—" he waves a hand, clearing his throat as he forces himself to stare at the ceiling. "'n all your shit's gonna be gone?"

you deflate instantly, watching the sharp work of his jaw until he's having to blink rapidly, over and over again as his eyes gleam. the bar stool scrapes across the floor with an ugly sound as you slip out of it, and katsuki only throws you one brief, bloodshot glance before you bury your face into his chest.

still on guard, his arms don't move, don't come to wrap around you—but you can feel the small huff that leaves his chest. the tip of his nose as it dips into your hair.

with your cheek to his chest like this, all you can hear is the rapid-fire beat of his heavy heart. "i would never just leave you like that." all you get is a half-shrug in response, voice to fragile to sound. "i'm—we had a fight, but i still love you, katsuki."

he shrugs again and shakes his head, staring glassy-eyed at his cabinets when you look up at him. "well...'m sorry."

"i know," you murmur, nuzzling your cheek into him again. in your hands, his heart is heavy, and your own mirrors its ache; has he always been like this, expecting the worst? or is this a wound suffered from another? you squeeze him a little tighter, until his breath hitches. "and i forgive you, but my feelings are still a hurt and i just need...some time, you know?"

now his walls crumble, as he finally wraps an arm around your neck so that he can press his face into your hair. "...how much time?"

you want to laugh at his impatience, the little brat that's still at his core, but you can't fault him. not when you're just as eager to leave this fight behind. to wrap him up in all the warmth you can offer. "i don't know, half a morning, maybe."

and he doesn’t say anything for a long time, as he waits for his voice to stand on its own again. even then, it's quiet, small. "...okay."

"i'm going to love you forever and ever and ever." you promise, offering him your loveliest smile when he swallows hard. "even when you don't want me to." the longer his eyes linger on your cheeks, the pinker his own get, and you can't help yourself; you stand on your tip-toes, happily, now, and wrap your arms around his neck. "can i have a kiss, please?"

katsuki scoffs, though it's lighter now, before pressing his lips to yours, softer than you expected. even though it's chaste and simple, he stays there with his eyes shut tight, like he doesn't want to ever leave. you have to pull back, because your lips start to curl and you want to laugh at him, so pliable and sweet, but he chases you, plants two more before frowning at your giggling.

"y'r a dumbass," he murmurs, and when you gasp, he throws his arm around your neck and yanks you into his chest again. the heat on his face is palpable, as he tries to tuck his vulnerability in your hair. "'m always..." katsuki tries, cutting himself off with a sharp sigh. "g'nna want this, so don't be thinkin' otherwise. ever."

you hum into him, pliable, too. melted down to his same temperature; warm, tender. you pull away to place a kiss on his cheek, more on his lips until they quirk up the slightest bit. satisfied. "i won't if you won't."

[andiftheycare]

AU where Suguru’s an overworked salaryman and Satoru keeps stealing his umbrellas as a bad attempt at flirting.

Or the you swan he frog meme but make it a fic

☂️ Part one here, and also on twt

☂️ Part two point one here, and on twt. Part two point two here.

Notes: I resisted posting this bit because I wanted one scene TM to be part of this update. However, this is now 2k so it's too long for a tumblr post so the scene I wanted will be in the next update (I'll try to update every Sunday moving forward!). More romancing and more umbrellas to come. If you like this and you'd like to be friends do interact!! let's be friends!! also as usual it's highly unedited etc will be edited once it's on AO3.

Tags to be aware of: AU, squint and it’s a reincarnation au (more on this soon), office AU, pals I think this will be tagged "Mature" for part 5 :D

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

“Are you looking for a date?” 

Mimiko sits in front of him, hands clasped on the table, while Nanako nods next to her, posture more lax but expression less open. Suguru is hit by the memory of his parents sitting him down and trying to convince him to attend a couple of omiai.

The picture’s so close it makes him smile. 

“We know, like, you’re not old old.” Nanako says, heavily implying Suguru’s next to pension age. “And we talked about it.”

“You… talked about it?”

They exchange a glance. Brief. Quick. Suguru knows what it means when they team up like that. They’re up to mischief. 

“We made a list of people you could date.” Nanako continued, opening her notes app but not showing her screen. “Because you can do better than that—“

“Put that on your umbrella,” Mimiko concludes, palms now open, legs uncrossed. “It’s very…”

Where Mimiko aims, Nanako shoots “Lame.”

Drop dead silence follows, while Suguru struggles, briefly, to connect the dots, until his most recent sticker comes to mind, and he thinks that idiot. Printing shit like that and having his way with Suguru’s possessions. 

“I’m not interested in dating,” Suguru explains, well knowing he’s losing so many points in the eyes of his once doting daughters “It’s to deter criminals from —“

“You know, most of my friends think you’re hot.” Nanako grits that through her teeth, disgust seething from her words. She moves a hand around her face, then “They’d steal your umbrella just to find in you the love of their life.”

“That’s… concerning.”

Mimiko nods. “We don’t want to pressure you, but we thought…”

“If you’re not, like, finding someone because…”

Another glare is exchanged. This time they slightly bow their heads, and Suguru straightens up on his chair, offers them a smile but doesn’t reach to caress their heads. They don’t like that anymore. 

“It’s not because of you.” 

The twins’ shoulders reflexively drop.

“Now, have you finished packing?”

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

The flat is eerily quiet for the rest of the weekend. Mostly, Suguru spends it catching up on some sleep, trying to ignore how tense he feels, how tired he still is after he wakes up in the afternoon to an empty stomach.

Despite the spasming requests of his body, though, he can’t seem to keep anything in, the nausea coaxing him into fasting after a few bites of anything that isn’t plain. 

Suguru doesn’t mind it. 

That’s part of his summer routine, getting asphyxiated by the city heat so much to the point his body rejects nourishment. He’ll get over it soon. 

What’s new it’s the lingering taste of rotten food he awakens to in the morning. It’s worse when he dreams, which is happening with unexpected frequency, and which leaves him in a bizarre state of nostalgia, despite Geto not remembering much of it.

So he sits on the floor of his living room on Saturday night, an untouched open beer in front of him - admittedly, a bad idea - and a couple of texts from Mimiko and Nanako, going through the basic yeah we arrived safely, grandad’s fine but grandma says he needs to get his eyes checked, connection’s terrible as usual.

Have fun, Geto types back, and saves for himself the promises he can’t keep, like, I’ll come with you next year, or I’ll make it to the summer festival next weekend.

Mimiko and Nanako spend most of their summer holidays with their grandparents in the house where Suguru grew up. It’s near where the twins were born, too, so they can visit their parents’ grave and enjoy those seasonal friendships that last less than a month, but seem to revamp with the same strength every time they are reunited. Mostly, they can have someone around rather than rot in their city flat, and enjoy some breeze and fresh watermelon and nights full of stars.

Suguru hasn’t been back in years. Not properly, anyway. The summer’s also one of his busiest times at work.

His phone lights up — 

stuck at the airport 

It’s so boring 

Send help

— and he watches the succession of texts populating his screen. 

After unlocking it, Suguru’s also met with a selfie of Gojo resting his chin on his hand, disgust written all over his face, shades resting on the top of his nose.

They canceled my flight

I can’t do anything about it

Can you, like, come and pick me up?

Gojo sends his location. He’s pinned somewhere far south. 

On what, a giant flying dragon?

Do you have one? 

Don’t be ridiculous 

Suguru takes a sip while Gojo types. The electric fan on the tatami barely moves hot air around him. There’s a memory that isn’t his in his mind, of a younger Gojo lying in front of a fan, moaning, asking Suguru to make it stop, use your weather curse or something, please, Suguru, please and Geto frowns at his fan, at the phone and the open can and then the memory is gone. The absence in the room takes roots in him. 

(“Take off your clothes. That’ll make you feel better.”

“Take them off me yourself, you coward.”)

So short fun story which isn’t neither short nor fun is I’m here for a work gig and there’s a storm

Can’t book a hotel because they’re all full 

Can’t go home because now home is terminal 5

Not thinking, Suguru calls him. If he they have to keep texting, he might as well —

“Satoru.”

“Suguru?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

A breath. Another one. How close is his phone to his mouth? “Well, if this isn’t a fun development.”

“It’s just a phone call.”

“Suguru.”

“Uhm?”

“So are we on a first name basis now?”

Suguru hangs up. Gojo sends him a voice note that’s just him laughing, then video calls him. Suguru should probably take that as a cue to go to sleep at a normal hour, instead of entertaining the maniac on the other side of the country.

“What?” Gojo prods closer to the camera as if that could get him closer to Geto. “Are those earrings?”

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

Nothing gets stolen on Monday. There are now two evil curses protecting his umbrella, on top of the Omamori. 

Maybe that’s the answer. The blessing doesn’t have to counterbalance evil energy; it has to be outnumbered by it. Maybe his grandma would’ve had an opinion on that power imbalance, too.

Yuki, for sure, has one “Oh, are you looking for a special someone?”

She catches him as they enter the building and he’s closing the umbrella, “Or are you craving crab?”

Politely, Suguru smiles at her as they walk to the elevator “You never told me what’s your type.”

“Because that’s unprofessional to ask.”

They press the floor button on the elevator. Yuki leans on the mirror, folding her arms “Well, you know how it is. They keep denying that promotion because you don’t have a family.”

Geto likes Yuki. In the measure where you can like your manager and work well with them and respect the trajectory of their careers. And he knows she’s right, that having two children helped him immensely in progressing, that getting a partner would grant him access to better insurance, a better job, because if you have to provide for a family, then, you need more money. They’re a traditional company after all.

And Geto isn’t old. But when he’ll be in his thirties, he’ll get pushed into marriage by the higher-ups. Those are the rules. Yuki is, once again, doing the company’s bids. 

And she’s right. Geto hates her for it. 

“You aren’t married either.”

“I’m a woman,” Yuki says, the elevator going up and up “I wouldn’t be here if I was.”

Geto shakes his head. “How’s that fair?”

A grin. “Get a wife already.”

The doors open. “You sound like my dad.”

“I’ll set you up.”

“Now you sound like my mum.”

“Smart woman.”

Suguru lets the conversation go as he mostly does when Yuki’s chatter derails, before she gets back into work mode and disappears into a string of endless meetings.

And so the week begins again. Not that Geto remembers the week before, or the one before that. It’s interesting what stress does to your brain, how the repetition of an endless circle of moments stretched to be all the same can deeply mess you up. Yet Suguru’s pass the phase of worrying about the blurred lines of his job - he just does it. He knows that his actions in that building have no meaning in the real world if not enriching the rich, or pleasing some of his bosses, or fattening his bonuses. The latest he can’t complain about, really.

But he doesn’t even sleep at his house, most days, and weekends are for recovering and spending time with his daughters and skimming through the upstanding admin, so it’s hard, sometimes, to remember he’s a person.

Because that requires energy the same way that excitement and joy and anger do, and he’s saving all the bits of it he has to be a decent person when he can.

So he doesn’t date — doesn’t have the time to — and whenever he wants to fuck he can find someone. He can always find someone. Again, another thing that requires a fully functioning brain, another thing he doesn’t miss, that he doesn’t think about much. 

Unexpectedly, he looks at his umbrella, tucked next to his drawers. How silly it is, the whole thievery thing, how it annoys him in a way that’s out of proportion, because that’s what happens to your feelings when you don’t feel them — once they’re out, they’re out in a big way. How, though, there’s something tucked in his anger. There’s 

A message pops up. 

You don’t need to return the suit 

I take you’re back.

Did you miss me?

Suguru turns his phone so the screen’s facing down, a smile cracking on his face. Nanami stares suspiciously at him for the rest of the day.

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

“You’re weird.”

Suguru puffed out a cloud of white smoke. Nanami shakes his head, “I didn’t know you could smile.”

“That’s rude.”

Nanami shrugs “Didn’t know you could smile and mean it.”

“Didn’t know you cared.”

“No one should be that miserable for their job.” He says, with an unflinching expression. 

“You don’t smile much either.”

“I never feel particularly inclined to smile at you, senpai.” 

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

The neighborhood gets quiet past ten at night. When the other salary men hit the karaoke rooms and the company drinks and runs home, Yuki abandons the office with a “Go home, Suguru!” and a cigarette already between her lips, lights flickering above her head.

And with that, the office floor’s quiet, and Geto knows that at some point around that time, Gojo will be browsing the sweet section of the downstairs Konbini, mistaking sugar for nutrition.

“It keeps me awake,” he says once to him, distractedly. “The taste’s better than coffee.”

Geto disagrees, says he’s stupid, says he needs to sleep, and that’s a weird memory to have, because while that one’s real – Geto lived that conversation and stole Gojo’s last gummy from his packet – it also feels like part of multiple conversation they had in a past life.

Another thing Suguru doesn’t believe in. 

He stretches and looks at his screen’s clock, and gets some more work in. He wants that promotion without marrying, which is why he’ll spend July living in the office, clean clothes stocked up in his locker so he can stop going back home. Hopefully his shirts won’t get too crumpled. 

For a second, he thinks about Gojo’s suit hanging in his wardrobe. After all, he might need to go back to his apartment for it.

“Have you lost weight?” Gojo blinks at him from behind his shades.

Geto unwraps his plain onigiri, sitting down. The rain hits the plastic covering them in the outside sitting area of the convenience store. Gojo leans closer, face scrunching and eyes squinting “Like, why are you barely eating your —“

With a gesture that comes with ease, Suguru places the palm of his hand on Satoru’s chest and pushes him back on the chair. Suguru takes him on, from the way his forehead relaxes to the long second he spends looking at Suguru’s hand moving away, and he feels warm. He wants to know what else he’d let his hands do to him.

Suguru clears his throat. “I haven’t.” 

Gojo leans back, legs open and hands in his pockets, “You like soba, right?”

It’s his favourite dish. Suguru, however, hasn’t told him that. “Like, in general?”

Satoru nods. “There’s a restaurant ten minutes from here. If you, uhm, fancy a real meal. It’s open all night”

“Stop hitting on me.”

Satoru grins “Thought you liked it.”

“In your dreams.”

At that, Gojo falters. So unlike him. So unlike the fragments of the boy that visits his sleep. Suguru stops chewing, his stomach grumbling in displeasure. 

“What if you do like it? In my dreams, I mean.”

Throat tight, Suguru follows the movement of Gojo’s lips, drops of rain hitting the asphalt, Gojo’s brief silence rendered inaudible. “Do you dream of me often?”

There’s something unsaid, because Suguru dreams of him every night. When he closes his eyes, he sees blue ones smiling at him and feels sand under his toes. He doesn’t know how it makes him feel, having all that knowledge about a version of Gojo Satoru who doesn’t exist. 

“What if,” Satoru breathes, a sly grin thinning his lips “What if you were younger in my dreams?”

“How much younger?”

“Seventeen.”

Suguru halts. Gojo hides behind his glasses, which are square and not round today. “That’s young.”

“You have shorter hair, too.”

“Weirdly specific.”

The grin smothens into a smile. “And bigger earrings.”

The onigiri lies abandoned on a piece of paper. The air is muddy and warm, and Suguru’s shirt sticks to him like a second skin. Instinctively, he touches his naked lobes. Earrings are not part of his company’s dress code. "Interesting."

“But,” Satoru says, looking up to the rain, “I don’t get to see much of you as you are now, in those dreams.”

“What?”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Like I don’t know what you looked like in high school. I bet you had acne.”

“I never had acne.”

“Liar.”

Suguru breaths in. “What’s your point?”

“Why don’t I dream of you?” Satoru relents, as if annoyed. “Why do I dream of this teenager I don’t know?”

Suguru’s mouth grows dry, at that, heartbeat jumping in his ears. He’s dizzy. “Soba, uhm?”

Satoru’s knees jerk up. “What does it have to do with –”

“I think I might want to grab some. If you want to...”

Gojo’s on his feet before Geto can finish his sentence, mood shifted into something bright, and for now, Geto doesn’t need his dreams to tell him how to feel about this aggravating man.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

i just spent the last. several hours. fiddling with the classpects for Sburb Life because im a perfectionist

im still not 100% happy but i think this is a lot better

Grian - Session leader, Prospit dreamer, the Sylph of Dream in the Land of Bread and Sand. Client player Jimmy, server player Scar.

Scar - Prospit dreamer, the Thief of Heart in the Land of Rock and Cacti. Client player Grian, server player Mumbo.

Mumbo - Derse dreamer, the Seer of Flame in the Land of Sparks and Current. Client player Scar, server player Pearl.

Pearl - Derse dreamer, the Witch of Hate in the Land of Love and Snow. Client player Mumbo, server player Gem.

Gem - Prospit dreamer, the Aide of Space in the Land of Blooms and Frogs. Client player Pearl, server player Scott.

Scott - Derse dreamer, the Rogue of Time in the Land of Stars and Bridges. Client player Gem, server player Joel.

Joel - Derse dreamer, the Saint of Rage in the Land of Cliffs and Carnivals. Client player Scott, server player Etho.

Etho - Derse dreamer, the Mage of Truth in the Land of Wool and Secrets. Client player Joel, server player BDubs.

BDubs - Prospit dreamer, the Priest of Void in the Land of Keeps and Clocks. Client player Etho, server player Impulse.

Impulse - Prospit dreamer, the Guide of Hope in the Land of Coal and Bones. Client player BDubs, server player Tango.

Tango - Prospit dreamer, the Sage of Mind in the Land of Heat and Bulls. Client player Impulse, server player Skizz.

Skizz - Prospit dreamer, the Maid of Blood in the Land of Lakes and Cherries. Client player Tango, server player BigB.

BigB - Derse dreamer, the Heir of Ice in the Land of Fissures and Chocolate. Client player Skizz, server player Cleo.

Cleo - Derse dreamer, the Bard of Breath in the Land of Wind and Marble. Client player BigB, server player Lizzie.

Lizzie - Derse dreamer, the Knight of Life in the Land of Trees and Axolotls. Client player Cleo, server player Ren.

Ren - Prospit dreamer, the Prince of Peace in the Land of Shadow and Stillness. Client player Lizzie, server player Martyn.

Martyn - Derse dreamer, the Dame of Light in the Land of Eyes and Coral. Client player Ren, server player Jimmy.

Jimmy - Prospit dreamer, the Page of Doom in the Land of Clay and Dust. Client player Martyn, server player Grian.

also explanation of the custom classes and aspects under the cut

Aspects:

Truth - Truth is the aspect of discovery and revelation. The Truth-bound are difficult to fool, and keep their focus on what is in front of them. They act with practicality, and the aspect itself is tied to rational thought. Its counterpart in the fabric of Paradox Space is Dream. At their best they are rational and calm guides for their friends; at their worst they are uncaring and judgemental.

Dream - Dream is the aspect of lies and imagination. The Dream-bound live in worlds of their own, and their goals are not always obvious to those around them; the aspect itself deals in the nature of falsehoods. Its counterpart in the fabric of Paradox Space is Truth. At their best they brighten the room with their imaginative nature; at their worst they are frustratingly absorbed in their fantasies.

Peace - Peace is the aspect of calmness and protection. The Peace-bound are dedicated to maintaining the status quo, and preventing quarrels amongst their friends. The aspect itself deals with stagnation, love, and comfort. Its counterpart in the fabric of Paradox Space is Hate. At their best they are mediators and lovers who hold their allies together; at their worst they are resistant to change and even oppressive.

Hate - Hate is the aspect of emotion and strength. The Hate-bound hold grudges easily, and will tear down the things they see as being in their way. A Hero of Hate would rather die than allow something that hurts them to continue. Its counterpart in the fabric of Paradox Space is Peace. At their best they are firebrands and leaders, working against oppression; at their worst they are spiteful agitators unwilling to let things go for the greater good.

Flame - Flame is the aspect of change and discovery. The Flame-bound are seekers of the truth, though they are prone to flying too close to the sun and being hurt by that which they seek. They would rather burn the world down and build a new one than try to fix the one that exists. Its counterpart in the fabric of Paradox Space is Ice. At their best they are great artists and leaders, inspiring their allies to change that which they must; at their worst they destroy themselves and those around them with their quests for things beyond their reach.

Ice - Ice is the aspect of isolation and steadiness. The Ice-bound put up walls around themselves, pushing people away to protect themselves and cutting their emotions off. A Hero of Ice is likely to have few true friends, and none who they allow to see every facet of themselves, out of fear. Its counterpart in the fabric of Paradox Space is Flame. At their best they are reliable and steadfast, a source of stability for their allies; at their worst they are cold and unwilling to stand up for themselves, locking away their true thoughts.

Classes:

Saint - Saint is an active class, and its passive counterpart is the Priest. A Saint lives their life by the rules of their aspect, using the structures it sets up to climb to the top of a world they see as ruled by its teaching. As the role of a Saint is highly tied to their aspect, their role in a session varies heavily - A Saint of Life or Space, for instance, will likely be a strong driving force behind the group's success, while a Saint of Doom or Ice may spell the end for the session by their very nature.

Priest - Priest is a passive class, and its active counterpart is the Saint. A Priest allows the rules of their aspect to spread out from them, allowing themself and their allies to use its nature to their advantage. A Priest's aspect will often come to typify much of the session as they spread its teachings amongst their fellow players.

Dame - Dame is an active class, and its passive counterpart is the Aide. The Dame defies the very nature of their aspect, and often bear little resemblance to the archetypal player of that aspect. Their journey through the session is often highly personal, a struggle directly between them and their aspect, though once they are at the end of their journey, they are a force to be reckoned with, having taken the aspects of it that benefit them and left the rest behind.

Aide - Aide is a passive class, and its active counterpart is the Dame. The Aide is a gateway for their aspect, letting its nature out through themselves to defy the enemies of the group. They are highly in tune with their aspects, though not always in a way that others will immediately recognize. An Aide's involvement in a session is often as an unlikely leader, giving the other players something to rally behind when they feel devoid of the Aide's aspect.

Sage - Sage is an active class, and its passive counterpart is the Guide. The Sage is a student of their aspect, seeking to understand everything about its nature; rather than having the information to understand their aspect, like a Seer, a Sage is restricted to seeking understanding through more traditional means. Sages often become the most knowledgeable within their sessions, throwing themselves into their personal quests and embracing the role of the tactician with gusto.

Guide - Guide is a passive class, and its active counterpart is the Sage. The Guide seeks their aspect in order to bring it to their allies; they will often be a confidant and a source of aid or comfort for their allies. A fully realized Guide released into Paradox Space will often come to act as a sort of tutor for another player of the same aspect. Within their sessions, Guides are a centerpoint for the group, assisting other players wherever and however needed.

[sadistmusings9]

Careful what you wish for

I have meant to write this story for a while now. So come with me, as I stroll down memory lane. (Names changed for privacy) 

I met Jess on Tumblr, (of course, where else?) a private girl who rarely shared pics but was so direct and honest I had no doubt of her submission. Heavily into servitude and humiliation. She did my pet name task and we hit it off from there. We’d played off an on casually for weeks until she had been venting about a roommate. When pressed as to why she wasn’t a fan Jess mentioned Belle was selfish, didn’t help out much if at all. Taking action (While Belle was away) I had poor Jess take ‘revenge’ by pissing in Belle's panties and humping her boots. It was during aftercare and debriefing about the tasks that things got interesting. 

Poor stupid honest Jess let slip that humping Belle’s boots felt so good because “I wish she’d own me”. Naturally I pressed her further and once I established it was more than just a passing fantasy, well tenderhearted fellow that I am I couldn’t resist helping out. And thus began my manipulation uh matchmaking… 

I started slowly, boiling the frog so to speak (dumb metaphor -frogs do respond to external temps even if heated slowly (unless lobotomised)- but it fits). For context all the other roommates and Belle were away for a few weeks. I had Jess message Belle asking if there was anything she could do for Belle while she was away, cleaning her room, laundry etc. Belle was suspicious at first wondering what the catch was.

I puppeted Jess to reply that there was no catch she was simply extremely bored and alone. 

Once reassured Belle was keen, there was two bins of laundry to do “but don't expect anything in return” 

Of course not!! Jess replied promptly getting into a maid costume tits out and wearing Belle’s soiled panties on her face until they needed to be washed. 

Within minutes as an afterthought Belle sent “oh and you can fold it too i hate doing that part” 

What a bitch! No wonder the other roommates hate her, not Jess though she seemed to love the demanding nature of Belle. 

After the laundry was washed and neatly folded on Belle's bed I had Jess send Belle a pic and thank her for giving her something to do to stave off the boredom. Without a thank you in sight (Jess almost came when I pointed that out) Belle replied “if youre really that bored my bathroom could probably be cleaned” 

“I’ll do my best!” 

“Lol its been a few months since I cleaned it so it might be a little dirty. But yours is always spotless so i know you know how to do it” 

And so the maid got to work, well after its pathetic tits were clamped and the toilet seat made out with, for my amusement.  

“lol i could get used to this” Belle said when notified it was all done. “Anything else you’d like to do for me to stay busy??’

I had Jess reply after some discussion “I know you have a lot of boots and heels do you want me to polish them for you?? Idk why but Im feeling very domestic today”

“Lmfao sure why not but i swear to god if you ruin a single pair I’ll be so pissed”

“Do you want me to do something else instead?

“No that’s a perfect idea. Do the other girls know you’re feeling “domestic” or am I the only lucky one??” 

Come on holes, be honest I prompt from behind the emerald curtain

“It’s just you…”

“Then you better do a good job or I’ll share our little secret with them’ 

I was grinning and Jess was squirming, what a natural Domme no wonder she’s so demanding

Poor Jess was a wet mess unable to respond so I put her to work polishing the boots with her mouth and cunt, and fucking the heels. Then actually wiping them over and polishing them properly till they shined. 

“Hahahahahahaha” Belle was thrilled by the resulting shiny 14 pairs of shoes. 

“I’m glad to have made you happy”

“You should make sure I stay happy”

“How can I do that??”

“Maybe i’ll come back this weekend and we can make some arrangements” 

“If you do, is there anything you need me to do before you come home?”

“I’ll be back in the morning why don’t you have some pancakes and starbucks ready for me and be there to carry my bags inside”

Pause for panic and begging me for what to respond 

“It would be my pleasure, thank you” 

After laughing at the messy puddle holes had become I congratulated her on submitting to me and letting me control her into getting what she wished for. I instructed her to set an alarm early to give her time to pack away her crate (I had her sleeping crated at the foot of Belle’s bed) and go get starbucks and pancakes.  

And that was that, last I heard Jess was sucking the cocks of Belles boyfriends whenever Belle desired and I sincerely hope they’re happy together. I do miss holes though and should she be free, is always welcome under my control again. Feel free to crawl back puppet… 

As for the rest of you, be careful what you wish for. 

[longhaulerbear]

We’ve Hit Peak Denial. Here’s Why We Can’t Turn Away From Reality

We are living through a terrible time in humanity. Here’s why we tend to stick our heads in the sand and why we need to pull them out, fast

If it seems like things are kind of off these days, you’re not alone. Recently, more than 100,000 people liked a post marking the start of the pandemic that said, “[Four] years ago, this week was the last normal week of our lives.”

Objectively speaking, we are living through a dumpster fire of a historical moment. Right now more than one million people are displaced and at risk of starvation in Gaza, as are millions more in Sudan. Wars are on the rise around the globe, and 2023 saw the most civilian casualties in almost 15 years.

H5N1 bird flu has jumped to cows, several farm workers have been infected, and scientists are warning about another potential pandemic. According to data from wastewater, the second biggest COVID surge occurred this winter. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates at least 24,000 people have died of COVID so far in 2024.

Last year was the hottest ever and recorded the highest number of billion-dollar weather and climate disasters. Not to mention that over the past few years, mass shootings have significantly increased, we’ve seen unparalleled attacks on democracy and science, and mental health issues have skyrocketed.

Truth be told, things were bananas even before the pandemic: just think of the Great Recession, the 2009 swine flu pandemic, and Brexit. Academics use terms like “polycrisis” and “postnormal times” to describe the breadth and scale of the issues we now face.

Welcome to the new normal, an age where many things that we used to deem unusual or unacceptable have become just what we live with. Concerningly, though, “living with it” means tolerating greater suffering and instability than we used to, often without fully noticing or talking about it. When authorities tell us to “resume normal activities” after an on-campus shooting or give guidance on how to increase our heat tolerance in an ever-hotter world, we may sense that something is awry even as we go along with it.

But what happens when overlooking and tolerating greater levels of harm becomes a shared cultural habit? Like the proverbial frog in boiling water, we acclimate to ignoring more and caring less at our own peril. In the short term, living in a state of peak denial helps us cope. In the long run, it will be our undoing. Because the danger here is desensitization: that we meet this unprecedented litany of “wicked problems,” from climate change to the rise of fascism, with passive acceptance rather than urgent collective action.

How does this happen? How do we overlook and become hardened to bad things, especially in this scientific and technological age, when we’ve never been more capable of understanding and addressing them? To resist complacency, we must first understand how it operates.

Social scientists have long investigated the social organization of denial or how we collectively achieve reality-adjacent lives in which we do not recognize serious problems or they are made to seem normal. What research has found is that a key way we come to “not see” social problems that should beg for our attention is that disturbing or threatening information is neutralized or evaded.

COVID is a good case study for illustrating the “Collective Denial Playbook” that underpins our new normal reality.

A common strategy to neutralize a social problem is to make knowing about it hard, often by restricting efforts to look into it, like scaling back COVID tracking. In April the CDC ended the requirement that hospitals report COVID admissions and occupancy data, removing one of the last tools we could use to monitor what’s happening. “We now enter the blackout phase of epidemiology” wrote science journalist Laurie Garrett on X, adding: “There will be patients, but their numbers and whereabouts will be unknown….” Disappearing is also accomplished by not alerting the public. For example, during the winter surge, we heard “crickets from the White House.” In fact, as COVID positivity and death rates rose, tweets from CDC director Mandy Cohen decreased.

If the COVID situation is tracked and the public warned, things don’t feel normal. But if we don’t monitor or mention it, then things can feel “back to normal”—fine, even.

Another tactic is minimization. How we describe and measure things shapes how we feel about them. Which is why it’s important to notice when neutralizing language enters the chat. For some time now, turns of phrase like “endemic” and “during COVID” have been common vernacular. So have refrains like “lower hospitalizations than last year.” All of this gives off an “it’s just a cold,” “mission accomplished” vibe, casting the disease into a worry-free zone that’s safely behind us.

This minimization keeps the quiet part quiet: that “the world is still in a pandemic” per the WHO; that more than 73,000 Americans died of COVID in 2023, a higher number than from car accidents or influenza; among those infected, 9 percent and counting have long COVID, a serious and often disabling condition with a disease burden comparable to cancer or heart disease, and an economic cost rivaling the Great Recession, and for which there are no approved treatments. What’s more, each infection is associated with a substantially increased risk of health issues like cognitive dysfunction, autoimmune disease and cardiovascular problems, even for mild infections.

Pre-pandemic, these statistics would have been eye-popping. Now they constitute “back to normal.” We think we no longer have a problem, when actually we’ve just changed the standard by which we deem something concerning.

Yet, to shore up collective denial, we often do more than revise the present; we also rewrite the past. So not only do we reiterate that we are better off now, we claim things were never that bad. This sort of “forgetting work,” or contesting the past to remove unwanted memories, produces a cultural amnesia about the pandemic. And in burying the past, we sidestep accountability for what went wrong and preserve the status quo by failing to implement lessons learned from our own history.

Finally, truth tellers are the Achilles heel of collective denial because they call attention to what’s swept under the rug. Thus another playbook tactic is to hush them up, often by painting them as subversives or deviants. And so those who wear masks are ridiculed, scientists reporting on COVID-19 risks are cast as fearmongers, and those with long COVID are dismissed as having anxiety disorders.

Time and again, society pressures people not to see, hear or speak about the elephant in the room. To maintain our own “cognitive tranquility,” we tune out, malign and shoot the messenger because they remind us of what we would rather disregard. Just look at physician Ignaz Semmelweis, environmentalist Rachal Carson and NFL player and social justice advocate Colin Kaepernick. Indeed, people are regularly punished for being accurate.

These tactics are how we get used to so many bad things, from mega-fires to insurrections.

So what can we do about our “Ignore more, care less, everything is fine!” era? We need to stop enabling it. This starts by being more attuned to our “everyday ignoring” and “everyday bystanding”—like that pinch we feel when we know we should click through a concerning headline, but instead scroll past it.

We need to work harder to catch ourselves in the act of staying silent or avoiding uncomfortable information and do more real-time course correcting.

We need to guard against lowering our standards for normalcy. When we mentally and emotionally recalibrate to the new normal, we also disassociate from our own humanity.

We need to demand that our leaders give the full truth and hold them to account. We must stand up for the silenced and stand with the silence-breakers.

To counter the new normal’s assault on normalcy, we must double down on our duty to know, to speak up, and to remember.

This is an opinion and analysis article, and the views expressed by the author or authors are not necessarily those of Scientific American.

[randomwriteronline]

thinking about spherus magna so so so much and i NEED to write about the tribes and their bodies and their eating habits

to start off - agori and glatorian are like dogs and wolves: same progenitor, compatible to create hybrids capable of reproduction, different appearances and strengths but similar genetic curriculum.

the seven tribes have specific differences in appearance but most of their anatomy is still the same - humanoid, sharp spaced teeth, vestigial minuscule stubby tail, flat nose, small ears. cross-tribe children weren't very common before the shattering (big ass planet and all) and might become more common as time passes (lots of people died and whatnot), but due to there being no real hierarchy in the gene pool they wont necessarily be perfect hybrids of their parents: more often than not they will resemble only one of them, or showcase smaller traits of the other.

Tapyri (Fire tribe) - oval pupils stretched horizontally, tough skin that secretes a layer of protective mucus good for hot dry climates. different skin pigmentation in the form of spotted patterns, mostly on the back, is surprisingly common.

Gaquri (Water tribe) - crescent pupils stretched horizontally, drop-shaped sturdy scales that slightly overlap. hands and feet are lightly webbed between their fingers, while the eyes have a protective lid for underwater diving.

Lebori (Jungle tribe) - beaded pupils stretched vertically, short thin feathers, mostly greenish, which generally have little use. fingertips, palms and soles have small hooked cells to better their grip when climbing trees and rocks.

Koniri (Ice tribe) - rhomboidal pupils stretched vertically, thick fur that sheds and changes color depending on the seasons. powerful nails and bite, build up fat much easier than other tribes and are incredible sprinters on short distances.

Banuri (Sand tribe) - slit pupils stretched vertically, very small polygonal scales tightly placed together. small sharp horn-like protrusions all over the body, mostly the head, and remarkable adaptability to varying temperatures.

Potori (Rock tribe) - rectangular pupils stretched horizontally, wooly fur that varies in thickness depending on place of origin*. duller teeth, immune to most poisons, have heightened endurance in harsh climates and tougher bones.

Fezeri (Iron tribe) - round pupils similar to a photocamera's aperture, sectioned carapace not unlike that of an insect over skin. have a tendency to develop reddish crusts with age which need to be removed through cyclical moltings.

when it comes to food. oh baby.

ANY CREATURE in the desert is fair game. theyre most of the meat available and by god these people will Fucking Get It or die trying. blood is both cooked and drunk (usually on special occasions) and is often given to sickly, pregnant or young individuals; bones are generally split open for marrow, but while smaller ones can be grated or used to make stock broth, the bigger ones are kept to make weapons or tools - the only ones that eat them are the Bone Hunters, which is why they're called that in the first place, and the Zesk and Vorox, who have built in weapons.

Tapyri have very fertile soil but horrendously high temperatures, so they can grow only a select few plants, mostly cereals. common foods are iron snails and a type of edible lava residue, but a real delicacy is the elusive heat-resistant mole, which is incredibly fat and tender but also fucking FAST. they cook mostly on slabs of rock heated over lava, or on roasts

Gaquri eat anything that enjoys humidity - slugs, leeches**, tadpoles, frogs, other small amphibians, fish and crustaceans if they had any. their vegetables are cave mosses and freshwater algae or kelps - a specific type produces "kelp jades", round fruits that are sticky as hell. they tend to eat things raw, but can also afford to steam or boil their stuff

Lebori have the vastest array of fruits and greens available thanks to living in the green lung of a fucking desert and everybody imports that good stuff from them. their local protein source is comprised mostly insects***, worms and other invertebrates, which they employ in various methods. since they have access to oil, they often default to frying food

Koniri have access to small game and a discrete amount of forests in which they've learned to recognize edible berries, leaves and especially branches. a typical dish for them is a bundle of sticks wrapped in very far strips of meat. in some lakes they also harvest a strange type of anemone. when they don't freeze-dry their food, they tend to either boil or roast it

Banuri relied evenly on hunting, gathering, and husbandry. Zesk and Vorox have adapted thoroughly to the desert ecosystem, and while the first still gather lichens, the latter most hunt in packs

Bone Hunters, being scavengers, eat anything and everything; the Skrall had a more plant-based diet, but in Bara Magna added salt-dried meat; other Potori prefer vegetables like briars and thistles

Fezeri lived in fairly comfortable climates and could afford a pretty varied and balanced diet. Telluris allegedly eats, but nobody can confirm. Sahmad is trying to fuckin survive. give him a break

*Bone Hunters, native to the Bara Magna area, resemble goats; the Skrall, native to a snowy mountain area, resemble sheep. similar cases are found in all tribes across Spherus Magna (ex. BaMa lebori are more akin to geckos, BoMa lebori to lemurs)

**Gaquri would, as such, be the first to try and eat a kraata or krana without even thinking about it. the consistency would not bother them, but they would be mostly perplexed to discover there's food that tastes, respectively, "dark" and "bright"

***scarabax beetles not included, because they taste horribly and are not worth the effort of catching to feed off of them for anybody. Click will live forever