#review figure design
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bacchuschucklefuck · 4 months ago
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❗❗Official Class Swap Sorcerer!Kristen Post Alert❗❗ you can: look at her
#dimension 20#fantasy high#fhjy#kristen applebees#fh class quangle#sorcerer!kristen is uh. Not Home Anymore! she's been couch surfing along with jawbones before freshman year#I think this kinda falls into a slight teen-witch-esque approach which I do like#since I've been pulling from like. matilda and pippi longstocking for these designs. the Exceptional Little Girls kinda genre#it does make her look younger than her peers which I do like. I feel like a big part of sorcerer!kristen's deal is that she's never#taken seriously. frequently treated like she doesn't know what's good for her. fellow adhd havers make some noiseee#but! upon review I feel like there's also a kinda ms. frizzle turn to her design? which like. awesome thats the lesbianism nailed babeyy#the fuckoff giant thermos as arcane focus is a homage to pete conlan but also crucially#if you swing that thing by the cord I think you can take off someone's head easy. I think that's the important thing#her cargo shorts are not of holding but functionally Everything is in there. scrunchies pencils spare gold chapsticks paperclips multitools#tbh I personally love the progression in her design lol she starts out like ''oh this young girl is a bit unkempt'' and#becomes ''oh this person is insane'' by junior year which is really awesome imo. I love that#its just fig left! I mean her freshman year design is pretty much set for me. I just need to figure out the rest#gorgug is kinda aerith in junior year I wonder if I can softly turn fig tifa-ward lol... ooh I have ideas now. this is gonna be fun#but for now. enjoy evening! may we all make like lizard and enjoy sun
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solradguy · 4 months ago
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I thought the early 2000s "strong yet naked/mostly naked woman kept in her place by stronger, bigger, beast/monster or gang of racist caricatures" trope* was known by basically everyone but I mentioned it as a criticism of this older art book I'd flipped through recently to a friend and it turns out it isn't lol Maybe I've just read too many Heavy Metal issues... It used to be HORRIBLY inescapable in any sort of mature art scene back in the day lmao
*This trope is different from the pre-2000s one because the women usually look like they COULD fight back for at least a little bit whereas the previous trope had them be completely helpless damsels in distress
#textpost#And the damn apes. Why were there so many APES in art back then#I am so TIRED OF APES#'look at my drawing isn't it so quirky and funny. i have given the sassy stylized gorilla a naked human woman and sunglasses har har'#Ngl when the NFT thing started and I saw the ape one taking off it was instantly enemy number one because I am TIRED OF APES!!!#Not that every fictional or stylized ape is bad but there is a particular way they can be drawn where it makes me roll my eyes#Those NFTs are a prime example. They were absolutely drawing on the apes I loathe when designing those#I suppose these apes are parallel to that category of 'unintelligent and crude unkept representation of the reader/artist that still-#-hooks up with the smokin hot babe with the hourglass figure' trope#Which I also loathe#Probably this doesn't make any sense lol#I don't know how many of my followers on here shovel as much of this shit into their eyeballs as I do#Unfortunately sometimes the periodicals with such tropes that I so despise also occasionally have little gems between that make up for it#Wading through the Kevin Eastman+Simon Bisley Heavy Metal pissfart era for a scrap of Moebius or something avant garde#If I wasn't working on 1000 different things I would write reviews of Heavy Metal issues from my bookshelf lol#Some of these issues are ripe vomit. I could really tear into them#Insane that they went from cutting edge of adult SFF sequential art to whatever the fuck was going on in the FAKK 2 era#Ok I need to go get ready for bed lol enjoy whatever this post turned out to be
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starredfishing · 11 months ago
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rewatching rwby again and i find it funny that in v2 they drop an entire in universe lore reason for ppl to be named after colors but only like 10 characters in the show r named after colors
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goat-nerd · 2 months ago
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Felix had his eyebrows detailed and is now 1000% more rizzed up,
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The audience is shaping up too,
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Annnnnd the guests are getting hammer-wasted, excellent... H-hey Pochita! Leave Mizutaki alone, I'll get you another drink!
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stoneyocean · 15 days ago
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Join the wave StoneyOcean.com 🌊
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anyways i jist watched 16 45 minute plays over the past 2 days and i feel so professional now
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softgrungeprophet · 6 months ago
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real talk if anyone on here ever wants to like... buy me a DVD i will totally draw a real quick bust or whatever in exchange, i have a target wishlist registry thing and everything 😂
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Like it says in the note thing on the page, DVD or DVD/Blu-Ray are both fine, regular (not 4k) Blu-Ray is probably fine since my PS4 should be able to play those, but I only have a regular-ass PS4, not a PS5, I cannot play UHD, so if something is 4K UHD please make sure it has either a DVD or a regular Blu-Ray as well...
Anyway it should be set up so you can buy stuff off my registry without me having to blast my address to the world (lol) so if you do this, send me an ask or something off anon (so I can like, contact you) (that or like, send me a message on discord if we're friends, or w/e) and I will def draw you a little drawing as thanks 👍
#nadia rambles#ftr i haven't seen the barbie movie so i don't know if it's actually good. i wanted to see it but had no money at the time.#same for blue beetle but the review i read seemed generally favorable in that it's supposedly like... heartfelt? and not all meme#i do really like the weird tech-organic suit design.#and honestly my tolerance for bad movies is higher than it seems at times— i just dislike the mcu specifically#i generally like a bad movie that has a vision — aesthetic drive etc. — over sanitized and visually bland shit#like at least interesting choreo? even the best choreographed mcu movies i've found to be both slow AND hard to follow#and the lighting and color grading i keep seeing is just fucking awful. like. jesus christ. that's conk creet baby that's CEMENT#i did actually enjoy ant-man and the wasp but i found the romance boring and while i like ghost's whole vibe#the reason her design is good is because it's like... literally a destiny 2 hunter outfit LMAO#i prefer clayton crain's comic art significantly but like. that's. maybe not a practical movie costume.#but fuck would i like to see someone try *that*#anyway all of these others i have seen and 100% want to own physical media for (though i may add some i haven't seen later)#obv furiosa isn't out on physical media yet so that's not on there lol#also haven't added madame web yet but eyeing that steelbook tbqh just wanna make sure it includes regular blu-ray first#idk if anyone will even see this let alone send anything but i figure why not#at the very least i can share with family for holiday gift requests....#i don't understand why like the batman and atsv and john wick all have dvd/blu-ray options#but barbie and madame web and prey don't have that option#it's either blu-ray or dvd or 4k or 4k/blu-ray but not blu-ray dvd :/#which honestly is my preferred vessel cause that way i can have access to either if i need it#i put in blu-ray for barbie and prey and prob will for madame web but really wish it was blu-ray/dvd 😔
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xx-psych0-rabbit-xx · 2 years ago
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ghoulia has the opposite issue of abbey where she looks great in the show and in concept art and then they fucked up her dolls skin color.shes pastel green.why.
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capricornlevi · 1 month ago
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nanami x reader - w.c 3k, marraige of convenience, mentions of societal pressure but everything is consensual!, nsfw, mdni!
without even meeting him, you agreed to marry nanami kento without any expectations of future love, romantic or otherwise.
the pairing is advantageous for the both of you; you get access to the impressive nanami family fortune that has grown substantially now that kento is managing it, while he gets to enjoy a close association with your prestigious family and the subsequent educational opportunities that your children will benefit from. it's sensible and by far the best option you'd been presented with.
you've exchanged letters with him, polite and concise. you can read between the lines and see that he shares a disillusioned view of jujutsu society, but is more than willing to step up for the good of his family.
you weren't coerced by anyone. far from it -- your mother and father had sat you down and asked if you were sure, that they would understand if you wanted to take more time or to choose a different path for yourself altogether.
but you know the rest of society would not be so kind or understanding. marriage between two sorcerers, as antiquated as it seems, is how you survive amongst all of these competitive, power-hungry families.
from what you've read and heard about him, nanami will provide stability. he's progressive in his thinking, and so wont expect anything from you that he wouldn't be willing to do as well. you've learned that he's a teacher at tokyo tech, and has received glowing reviews; he'll be a good father.
and so on this misty thursday morning, you lay eyes on your fiancé for the first time as he slips a ring on your finger and promises to stay by your side forever.
the ceremony is as bare-bones as your reputation will allow. the guest list doesn't hit the triple digits, a huge departure from society norms, but representatives from the major houses sit in floral-clad wooden chairs to watch you repeat the words that the officiant speaks in your direction.
nanami takes your hands in his. they're warm, which is nice. this dress isn't designed for November weather, but it's an heirloom -- and truthfully, you're glad to be wearing it. you'd never given much thought to a wedding, but it makes your mother and grandmother very happy.
you'd be lying if you said you weren't relieved to discover how handsome nanami is. you were previously shown a few polaroids of him -- staff pictures, mostly, but some with the rest of his family -- and had known he wasn't bad-looking, but the pictures weren't clear enough to give you a proper understanding of his looks.
his blond hair is styled neatly, not a hair out of place. he has nice features, strong jawline and cheekbones, and soft eyes, a good combination. you know his gaze can be piercing when he wants it to be, but now, he looks at you gently.
you know you made the right decision.
more vows, a kiss, and you're married.
___
the reception goes mercifully smoothly. the mix of guests -- powerful sorcerer family heads, rich businesspeople, and just a few of your personal friends -- didn't appear to gel too well on paper, but they mostly stick to their own factions. you greet them all until your vocal cords grow tired.
a meal is served on plates so ornate it makes you feel awkward eating off them. you nurse a glass of wine for most of the evening and nanami does the same, politely waving off the servers who approach to refill his glass.
a promising sign that he doesn't feel the need to drown his sorrows. this is a marriage of convenience, yes, but you'd like to be able to get along reasonably well with your spouse.
and, to his credit, he's been making light conversation with you all evening. he doesn't dip into deep or uncomfortable topics like your marriage or future plans, figuring that's best saved for later, but he asks you questions about yourself. by the end of the evening, you feel safe enough to allude to your desire for a future somewhat outside society's norms -- "I've always wanted to travel, honestly. maybe ... spend a few years abroad" -- and, to your pleasant surprise, he doesn't rebuff them. if anything, he seems somewhat pleased.
you have another glass of wine and before you know it, it's the early hours of the morning. you're nowhere near tipsy but feel ready for bed, ready to wipe off this makeup and slip into something more comfortable; thankfully, guests have started to slip out one by one, with only immediate family remaining.
your unpleasant and friendless older cousin makes a joke about you needing to say your goodbyes to 'go please your husband', and nanami's face sours for the first time all evening. your cousin notices and sheepishly takes a drink, mumbling something about it being his time to leave too.
with some final hugs to your respective families, it's time to leave with ...
... with your husband.
in his last letter before the wedding, nanami agreed that your city-centre apartment would be the best place to live in the first few weeks of your marriage, until you find somewhere more permanent that suits you both, and so that's where you go.
you show him around each room, including some storage space where his luggage had been delivered this morning. interspersed with some more small talk, you explain that although it's small, it's well placed for both of you to get to work. he smiles and nods, thanking you with a warmth that doesn't feel forced.
you offer him some tea or whiskey; he says he's fine.
you yawn. he loosens his tie, clearly exhausted himself.
the last room you show him is your bedroom, and it becomes harder and harder not to address the elephant in the room. there's very clearly no second bed, no room for him to stay that wouldn't necessitate a lot of closeness between the two of you.
the silence hangs heavy and loaded, both of you waiting for the other to speak.
well. this is one issue you hadn't covered before the ceremony.
you have no issue with a sexual relationship -- in fact, you're somewhat looking forward to it, having spent the evening admiring the way nanami's shirt hugs his strong arms and chest. but you're not sure if tonight, the first night you've ever met, is the best night to start.
sure, the concept of the wedding night speaks for itself, but it's not as black-and-white in your situation. he might want to spend some time settling in, first. he might not even be that interested in you.
"want me to take the couch?" he asks quietly, with no hint of resentment or offence in his voice. he makes the offer with a sincerity you haven't heard from a man in a long time.
you don't break your silence, but not because you're uncomfortable or anything of the sort -- you're just assessing your options.
"there's nothing i expect from you, just so you know," he continues, and you turn your head to face him, seeing his eyes scan your face for any sign of unease. "the last thing i want is for you to do ... this ... out of obligation or pressure. we have a lifetime to get to know each other, to reach that point -- i want you to be comfortable around me."
your upbringing has made you a sceptic, a pessimist at times, but for some reason, you believe him. maybe it's the look in his eyes, or the fact that he's taken your hand in his own, interlocking your fingers, but there's something about him that sets him aside from normal sorcerers.
he seems real. he seems as though, powers and fortunes and family names aside, he has some substance about him.
"do you want to?" you ask then, voice almost inaudible quiet from a day spent conversing with guests at your wedding.
he doesn't hear you, so he dips his head in your direction; you repeat yourself and wait, hoping you hadn't pressed the issue.
his composure doesn't crack, but something flashes in his eyes as he processes your question. he has such control over the movements of his features, over every expression in his body, except for his eyes, you think.
maybe you just happen to be good at reading him.
he mulls it over for a second, his grip on your hand never slacking.
"i want to," he finally admits. "i've wanted to for a while, truthfully. I've spent a lot of late nights picturing how it would feel to be inside you, to hear what my name sounds like when you say it. but i only want that if you want it too."
you smile without meaning to. "you imagined that from just reading a few letters?"
"yes, and it's a testament to my trust in my new wife that I'm telling you that," he replies, still polite but tinged with amusement.
it feels strange standing at your bedroom doorway, hand in hand with this almost-stranger, imagining what it would be like to indulge in these thoughts you've both been having, spending your first night together tangled up in the sheets and allowing some of the indulgence you've long denied yourself.
duty gets tiring. for a long time, you've been unsure what it feels like to genuinely want something.
now, you're pretty sure it feels something like this. it's organic and unforced, a natural desire that sends heat curling in the pit of your stomach.
wordlessly, you guide nanami into your room, closing the door behind you. there's a hint of a smile on his lips as you ask him for help to untie your wedding dress, the intricate pattern of buttons trailing up your spine proving too technical for your own hands. he's methodical in his work, careful to not damage the delicate clasps.
soon your dress is loose around your hips, your chest covered by the thin slip you wore underneath. you set the garment carefully aside before returning the favour and starting to undo nanami's shirt, avoiding eye contact as your hands expose more and more of his bare chest.
you want to do this, you know that for sure, but that doesn't mean you won't feel a bit of awkwardness at the start. you're not well practiced, having had too busy a life for romantic relationships until now. you hope that instinct will kick in sooner than later, but you've no doubt nanami will help you along the way.
when you finally build up the nerve to glance up at him as he shrugs off the shirt, he's looking at you as though you're the only person he ever wants touching him.
you hear the soft clink of metal and realise he's undoing his belt.
"are you sure?" he asks one more time.
that one question, and the earnestness with which he speaks, erases the last shred of doubt you had. you place your trust in him for the second time today.
you nod and reach across to his belt in the same breath, helping him pull it free from the loops to be tossed by the armchair near your desk.
you move as though controlled by something other than yourself, the decisions coming so naturally it feels as though you've been imagining it for weeks as well.
and maybe you have, you think to yourself, as you confidently guide him back slowly until he's sitting down on the plush armchair, his suit pants still on as you crawl onto his lap, pressing your chest against his. the thin fabric of your slip means you can feel the heat of his body against your skin, nipples hardening as they graze against his muscles.
you've just about balanced yourself, carefully perched on his lap when you feel his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that has you grinding against his thighs before you can even catch your breath.
you've never been kissed like this. the few kisses you've had before have been with partners who see you as a means to an end, be it for your family name, your reputation, or just for sex. you've never been kissed by someone who seems to get more from your pleasure than from his own.
you now know he meant it when he said he's been picturing this.
you kiss him for as long as you can, and you're not sure if it's for seconds, minutes, hours. you kiss him until there's a heat burning between your thighs you can no longer stand, that you need to have satiated by the visible, prominent bulge in the front of his suit pants.
when you finally break away, lips numb and kiss-slick, nanami's hair is touselled - you don't remember running your hands through them, but you must have at some point - and he reaches up to run his fingers under the straps of your slip, asking with his eyes if he can guide them off your shoulders.
you nod, and your chest is exposed to the cool night air for a split second before nanami's mouth is on one of your nipples, tongue circling the sensitive skin and making you cry out.
one of the words you moan must be his name, because you feel him smile as he turns his attention towards the other nipple, hands now at the small of your back to keep you close to him.
you can't take it much longer. you need to be touched so badly, you didn't even think you were capable of wanting it this much -- and you only want him to do it, now and maybe forever.
maybe he can read your mind or maybe you babbled out the request, but nanami finally takes pity on you, giving your nipple one final lick before resting his shoulders back against the cushion of the armrest and sliding his hands up your thighs, hooking your underwear with his fingers -- you lift your hips up to let him slip them off.
his composure slips further when he finally touches you between your legs, feeling how wet you've gotten for him, seeing how you react when he slips his index finger inside.
your head falls back and you hold a breath, focusing all of your attention on the sensation of him inside you, on the way he curls the digit ever-so-slightly before pulling it out and fucking you with two this time, almost -- almost -- tipping you over the edge.
"such a pretty wife," he mumbles almost under his breath, voice and gaze reverent as he watches you rock yourself against his hand. "my beautiful, perfect wife, aren't you?"
you want to answer him but can't, lungs feeling near-empty as you fumble with the buttons of his pants.
"i will never be able to think of anything else but you, i think," he muses, half-smiling. "you in my lap ... you making those pretty little noises ... i might be a ruined man, you know. and I'm glad of it."
he only stops speaking when you finally get your hand on his clothed cock, his breath catching in his throat as you trace it with your fingers.
you want tonight, the first of many times together, to start with you cumming on your husband's cock.
nanami just watches as you finally pull him out of his underwear, his length thick and hard in your hand as you give it a few messy strokes. it's all the both of you can manage before you need to have it inside you -- you shift your hips to sit on it, nanami's eyes fixed on the site of the head slipping inside.
it's a stretch, as you expected, but one you've been craving since you closed the bedroom door. you take him inch by inch, lowering yourself down as his breath quickens, clearly battling the urge to thrust up inside you.
but he's careful with you, and doesn't want to hurt you. his wife.
you lift yourself up too much and his cock slips out, slapping aginst his stomach and you nearly cry at the sudden emptiness, eager and clumsy as you guide him back inside you.
he kisses you when you sink down next, tongue massaging your own until the feeling of almost-too-full turns to a perfect, satisfying heat in your core.
eventually you're ready to quicken the pace, bouncing on his cock before long, your mind working too fast for you to keep up as you see nanami's cheekbones flush pink, his pupils dark as you ride him until your thighs ache.
you power through the sensation, nanami helping you along by meeting your hips with his, his thumb tracing uneven circles on your puffy clit. he calls you perfect and other beautiful words; you don't say anything besides more, more and, soon after, nearly there, nearly there, please, please, I'm so close --
your entire body lights up with the most wonderful sensation, hitting you like a wave and sweeping you away in its warm glow, with nanami's hands now on your hips, guiding your movements in exactly the way you need it -- not too hard, not too slow, not too fast.
you're still pulsing around him when you feel his body stiffen, his strong thighs tensing as he groans through gritted teeth. he pulls you in for a crushing kiss as he finishes, filling you up and thrusting as deep as he can until oversensitivity takes over.
the afterglow has you a contented and exhausted mess, muscles aching but satisfied in a way you'll spend forever seeking.
reluctantly, you slip off his cock to retake your place on his lap, marvelling at how undone you both have become, a far cry from your perfect wedding appearance.
you look perfect to him, though, you know as much from the kiss he presses to your sweaty forehead and the way his arm wraps around your shoulders.
"we didn't even make it to the bed," you observe, eyebrows raising as you finally return to your own body. "i ... wasn't expecting that."
"we have a lifetime to spend in bed," he replies, a smile in his voice.
and once again, for reasons you still don't understand, you believe him.
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kaurwreck · 8 months ago
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I think you're right that it's significant, and I think Mori is clever to recognize that Akutagawa is a rook.
Like a rook, Akutagawa is powerful, but generally contained and often undercut by his predictability. However, because he's keenly aware of his own constraints, and because others often aren't (especially regarding variables they've internalized as known), he's able to play into and against his own predictability to paradoxically surprise them.
He moves within the confines of his rigidity to shape outcomes, sometimes more effectively than his more dynamic opponents and peers. Rooks do that too, if you let them.
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Me, knowing nothing about chess, probably overthinking the significance of referencing akutagawa in this scene, but is going to look it up later anyways
#i have very specific chess feelings and thoughts re: rooks (which is what that piece is)#because in elementary school i was in a program for intellectually gifted students - by which i do NOT mean an honors program#i mean i displayed several specific neuro characteristics and struggled in a classroom environment such that i was referred for screening#the results of the screening flagged me for several additional tests and my results on those tests then prompted a comprehensive assessment#which was conducted by a licensed examiner who additionally administered another test chosen specifically based on my prior data#the report from which triggered a review of all of the above data by a panel of specialists who determined that I was wired so atypically#that I required specifically designed support services to avoid an adverse impact my access to education#ie I was not considered academically gifted which is what people are usually thinking of when they talk about giftedness (esp on tumblr)#i prefaced with all of that to counter misconceptions and emphasize that i was not in a program for smart and highly successful students#i was in a program for students with distinct cognitive processing needs that could not be met without specialized intervention#but inanely and entirely b/c of misconceptions the administrators at my school forcibly registered us in an annual chess tournament#which they wouldn't let us opt out of b/c there was a funding incentive for the school if we advanced far enough#ironically chess is a bad fit for this type of giftedness b/c it's rote + relies on bounded conventions instead of creative problem solving#but anyway i did not want to fucking play chess especially not competitively - it's boring and gets redundant#so i intentionally threw all of my games to remove myself from the tournament early#except my fellow indentured chess competitors noticed i was doing that and they were also bored and didn't care for the tournament#and so several of them made a game out of forcibly advancing me as far as they could by outmaneuvering my attempts to lose#horrifically they managed to corner me into winning enough that i was in serious danger of advancing#and so i started AGGRESSIVELY practicing chess in my spare time to learn how to shape the board and get confident in my ability to do so#i played against computers and then strangers online for hours a day and i studied checkmate patterns and how to subvert + reconfigure them#all so i could play well enough to ensure i'd lose even when being actively sabotaged#it worked - i narrowly escaped advancing that year and I don't think they were able to lose to me again after that#they kept trying - even playing me outside of tournaments to try and figure out how i was consistently losing#it's b/c i layered multiple strategies that involved breaking select conventions + manipulating their focus and psychology#BUT the fulcrum of my approach relied heavily on my rooks and select pawns as my most valuable pieces#i got very good at using rooks to shape the board without placing them in a position to be captured until i wanted them to be#once i had a few pawns close to promotion i would shift my rooks into bait b/c once one was taken i could just promote a pawn into a rook#and because absent a potential stalemate people almost always promote pawns into queens#my opponent would forget my additional rooks and would make choices based on the implicit assumptions that my deputized pawns were queens#rooks are treasures
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brunchable · 1 month ago
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How To Impress a 21st Century Girl.
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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
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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...
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mayakern · 15 days ago
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I honestly don’t know how to write this; I have spent all week attempting to figure out what to say.
Last Monday I was informed by our factory that our merchandiser and direct point of contact with the factory passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago. She was someone who I have spent a great deal of time speaking to ever since we switched factories two years ago. She helped us realize designs for new products, sent us samples of garments extremely quickly and kept track of all our orders. She went to bat for us if something went wrong with our print shop or if I was unhappy with how a garment pattern was interpreted by their team. As their first American client and a brand that focuses on size inclusion, something that is not typical of their other clients, she handled a lot of crazy requests from us without blinking and she was dedicated to ensuring that both us and our customers were happy. We talked nearly every day, and though it was work related she was one of the kindest people I have had the pleasure interacting with daily.
She was beyond dedicated to her work and to working with us. Turkey has an 11-hour time difference from me in California, which means when she was emailing me at 2pm in the afternoon it was 1am there. You can sure bet that I extended her the same courtesy and tried my best to answer her emails at night too, even when I would rather just be sleeping.
It was also clear just how much she loved her job, and now much she loved you guys. She had been silently watching our social media since we first started working with them. She got just as excited as we did on launch days and would often email me unprompted about how she was glad people were leaving such positive comments and reviews. She read your feedback when no one ever asked her to do that or even expected it of her. She did it because she really, really cared.
Even though she was miles away and we never met in person, she was like a coworker to me and the loss of her is like losing someone on our team.
The Maya Kern team, as a whole, has been dealing with a lot lately. I personally just moved (which took far longer than we expected) and Maya and Devin are gearing up to move back to Minneapolis pretty soon. With the loss of our merchandizer, it has taken the wind out of my sails a little bit. I was trying to push through, even though I am exhausted, and carry out the photo shoot for our new products this weekend, but it has become clear that my body just can’t handle it. My arthritis has finally told me to stop moving, so unfortunately, we are going to have to reschedule the shoot for later on.
We are doing everything we can to make sure our next product drop on the 21st still happens. But as of right now, due to this sudden loss, the garments haven’t even shipped from the factory yet and I am not optimistic that they will clear customs and get checked into the fulfillment center in time for the launch. This means the drop is likely going to be pushed back to December 5th and instead of a full photo shoot, we will probably have to settle for taking quick photos of everyone at home, and likely with our phones. 
We work really hard to deliver not just garments we believe in, but also pictures of said garments on bodies that our customers can relate to, and unfortunately I just do not think that is possible this time. As always, we really appreciate your patience and understanding during what has been a very difficult time for us.
Ash
Chief Operations Officer
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crazydiscostu · 2 years ago
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Gulikit / Antank King Kong 2 Pro Controller
Today we’re checking out a fancy no-drift wireless controller from the folks over at Antank. Join us to see what features and crafted mouldings this kit boasts! Antank Antank deliver a host of gaming accessories and have a team of over 100 people based across the world. They are deeply passionate about sourcing high quality products and presenting them exclusively on their site for the best…
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stoneyocean · 4 months ago
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Bay Harbor, Florida
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Join the wave Stoneyocean.com 🌊
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solar-wing · 9 months ago
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⚣ Protective Lover 🥰
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⚣✋🏻 A/N → Another idea partly inspired off one of my previous Jason posts. Dude is the definition of scary dog privilege. "and my man, thank you to my man." WARNINGS: Jealous/Possessive Behavior. Minor Swearing and Threats of Violence. Cute Fluff.
⚣✋🏻 Summary → It's no secret: Jason is a jealous and possessive boyfriend. But, many don't think about the benefit that comes along with that. He's hella protective. Sometimes it's overbearing, other times, it's very helpful.
⚣✋🏻 Words → 1.4k
REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🥰
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At some point, Y/N had gotten used to it. Was it annoying? Yes. Did it feel overbearing at times? Countless. Did he secretly love it and felt the world’s most (concerning) validation from it? Absolutely.
But, when looking at the situation and its circumstances as a whole, it made sense.
When he and Jason first started dating, there was definitely a vibe of him being a gruff but soft teddy bear who was clingy and needy for love and attention when with his chosen lover. But, when around literally anyone else who was not said lover or other people were in the same room as his chosen mate, he’d turn into the world’s scariest guard dog.
It was the general rule of Scary Boyfriend Privilege. Only the designated boyfriend could see their boyfriend’s soft and needy side. Anyone outside that got the ‘murderous if you get too close’ grizzly bear side.
Extremely hot and sexy, but it could be a bit (a lot) much at times. 
Y/N tried to get Jason to calm down, always showing that he could take care of himself and there was no reason for him to worry. But, living in a city like Gotham and given the vigilante’s past (hence the aforementioned situation and circumstances), there really was no calming him down.
But let’s look on the bright side here. With said privilege and the kind of boyfriend Jason was, Y/N never felt more safe and secure in his life. It was like walking around a video game world with the most overpowered gear on. He was basically untouchable.
Examples? Why, of course!
When it came to school, Y/N always preferred studying and doing his homework with Jason since he would help him stay focused and assist him with subjects that he struggled with. 
Y/N was not the first but certainly the loudest to say that Jason did not get enough credit for how smart he was. Yeah, he typically lived by street smarts, but he was big on book smarts as well. He just had to learn how to communicate the information in ways where it wasn’t confusing for both him and his boyfriend.
Plus, in dating Y/N, he learned the art and benefits of positive reinforcement which anyone could probably imagine taking a magnifying glass to their relationship, it was something the Y/N had to use a lot for Jason. Now, the vigilante was doing the same for his boyfriend by giving him little rewards for finishing his work and getting good grades like take-out dates, letting him play in his hair, and more often than not, a good dic-
PAUSE
Oh for fucks sake, are we doing this again? Why does it have to be PG-13? Well, no one said– Ugh…Fine.
A good fitness workout that involved lots of cardio, sweating, and soreness, but the good kind.
Happy?
But, the week of midterms turned out to be an equally busy week for Jason as well. He was knee-deep in a big crime plot and was getting closer and closer to solving the case. Y/N understood and didn’t want to get in the way of his boyfriend's duties. It still sucked though because it meant he wouldn’t be able to study in his apartment as he’d find way too many ways to get distracted. So, he had no choice but to study on campus, and figured what better place than the library?
Turns out there could have been better places.
Y/N was sitting at a large table by himself with various books in front of him along with his tablet and laptop reviewing his notes for a huge test he had the next morning. He wasn’t the only one who had the idea of going to the library to study as it was packed full of students trying to do last-minute cramming and studying.
Jason, as usual, called him to make sure he was okay and that he had gotten to the library safely even though Y/N was well aware his boyfriend had many different ways of tracking him and making sure he was where he was supposed to be. At first, he found it creepy, but when he got to know Jason’s family, he understood.
When Jason didn’t hang up the phone long after Y/N had already sat down and began reviewing, he decided he wasn’t going to hang up either, feeling more relaxed and calm while hearing his boyfriend’s voice and breathing through his earphones.
Now and then, Jason would call his name and check to make sure he was focusing and not slacking off or scrolling on social media and Y/N would turn and scold him for trying to check him when he should have been focused on fighting criminals.
“That’s the thing, babe. I can focus on more than two tasks at the same time. You, on the other hand, still can’t manage to focus on one task for more than 10 minutes without getting distracted by something else like your favorite song and flooding our apartment.”
“I told you to let the bathtub thing go!” Y/N whispered loudly into his earbud mic with a goofy smile on his face still.
“I will never let the bathtub thing go.”
They continued their playful back and forth while Y/N continued studying until he was interrupted by another student, a guy from one of his history classes. This guy was more or less a bit annoying and creepy and had been bothering Y/N for a while with his persistent quest to ask him out.
No matter how many times he rejected him, the guy always tried again and again. He never got forceful, or at least he never had the chance since Y/N always made sure there were people around or that he got to an area where other people were nearby just in case he tried something.
He wasn’t judging him, but he took Jason’s words and lessons very seriously when it came to his safety. He’d seen enough of his boyfriend’s cases where people didn’t take the necessary steps to keep themselves protected and safe because they didn’t imagine it would ‘go that far.’
The creep only left him alone when he saw Jason was with him. Truthfully, many people tended to steer clear of Y/N and his massively scary boyfriend whenever he was with them on campus besides his friends. They were even put off by Jason at times whenever they hung out with their friend cause they’d catch him at times giving them weird looks and glares if they touched or just got too close to his boyfriend for his liking.
Plus, after the one incident of the guy who tried to pick a fight with Y/N and pushed him, thus having to deal with Jason in the aftermath, everyone learned it was just better to steer clear.
So, when Jason wasn’t anywhere in sight, Y/N’s creepy stalker saw it as a perfect moment for him to try and make a move on his classmate, not expecting the very person he was hoping to avoid being on the phone the entire time.
It wasn’t until he saw Y/N unplug his earphones and hand him his phone that he realized he was indeed on a call, and after receiving possibly the most violently worded threat he had ever heard he decided there were plenty of other fish in the sea.
He handed the phone over to its owner before scurrying off like a scared mouse, Y/N watching with a confused but also amused and relieved look.
“Hi baby,” Jason immediately responded to Y/N’s ‘hello’ in his little delightful and excited tone whenever he heard his boyfriend’s voice.
“Jason, what did you say to him?” Y/N immediately asked.
“Hey! It’s babe, baby, sexy, honey, or Jay at the slightest to you, mister. Only my family calls me that.”
“Jason…”
“Babeee, stop it! I don’t consent to this treatment. No means no!” Jason protested in a whiny voice.
“You’re such a baby,” Y/N chuckled.
“Only for you, hot stuff. But we’ll be having a long talk when I get home about you not telling me about creepy guys bothering you.”
“How did you know?”
“Babe, you know who you’re dating, right? There never will be something that bothers you that I won’t know about. I’m always gonna protect you, even if it annoys the hell out of you.”
Y/N couldn’t stop the big smile spreading across his face at his boyfriend’s words, knowing he meant every single one. Jason would always be his protective lover.
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☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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cavegirlpoems · 2 months ago
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Violet Core Approaches
So. My close friend and collaborator Sarah Carapace has been working on Violet Core - a ttrpg about dykey mecha pilots in space - for the past few years, and that work is approaching its fruition. It's about to get kickstarted pretty soon, and I got a preview copy of the game ahead of that. So, preview/review I shall.
Disclaimers: I'm close friends with Sarah, was involved in some of the early playtests, and might end up doing a stretch goal for the game. So, I am of course wildly biased in Sarah's favour. Still, even if I wasn't, I figure this'd be my jam.
TL,DR: This game is really really good, back the kickstarter. For more details, read on.
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The Basics:
Violet Core is set in the Nemesis System, an alternate scifi version of the solar system. The game follows the lives of spacers cut off from their home planet, Cerulea, as they face an oncoming disaster as escalating waves of comet-storms hit the system and everything starts to come apart.
Our characters are mech pilots for one of three factions of spacers - The Reach, The Homebound, and The Cosmic Embrace - each with their own perspective on what to do about the looming disaster. It's generally agreed that they need to escape, but where to and how is a source of conflict.
All three factions and their approaches have their merits. Although the Reach are positioned as more heirarchical and organised than the other two, all three are clearly scrappy tenacious punk-ish survivors who've been rejected and exiled to space by the dickhead bourgoisie of their home planet, Cerulea.
Luckily, you get to pilot X-10s, giant personalised mechs powered by a mysterious psycho-active (psychic?) crysteline core. This lets you get up to all the various activities you just pictured when I said that.
Tonally, it's Sarah Carapace through-and-through. Everything is purple and blocky, with CRT monitors and snaking cables and spray-paint. Riot Grrl mashed up with retro scifi mashed up with cosmic weirdness.
On The Humble D4
The game uses the oddity of dice - the humble D4 - as its main dice, with D8s scattered in here and there. It's a choice I really like, giving the game a feel that's a little angular and off-centre. It's a simple choice, but it does a lot to set it apart. I can't sum this up better than Sarah does, so I'll just quote her:
d4s are the most cursed of all dice.
They are awkward to roll.
They are pointy and can/will stab you.
Femininity is pointy, painful and powerful and so are these odd little polyhedrons.
Also, There is no standardised style for d4s. When you roll them, the result is the number displayed upright, either on the top or bottom. It varies from die to die.
Which I think gives you a good sense of the tone of the whole game, y'know?
The game cares about dice as physical objects deeply. Players can use the emotional connections between their characters to donate bonus dice to another character's rolls: the game suggests that when you do, you should pass her your physical dice, and use the motion of how you do it (including potentially how your hand touches hers as you hand them over) as a way of expressing the connections between characters, which is a fucking genius bit of design.
Anyway. Who do you play as?
Some sort of dykey space-gal x-10 pilot. To define who you are, you pick three things: the faction you belong to, your pilot type, and the X-10 you pilot. I'll go over each in quick succession.
Your faction determines your political alliance and likely goals, and the culture you grew up in, and each faction has access to a different set of X-10s. You pick between:
The Reach: the most organised and strict faction, and the oldest. Strict, heirarchical, and high-tech. You play here if you want to have a good The Man to chafe against, or to be that The Man for somebody else. The Reach are working on engineering humanity to be able to survive the coming disaster and thrive in space, and building a vast engine - the Overlock - to enable this.
The Homebound: the most rough-and-ready faction. A large population of working-class gals, and with too few resources to go around. They're working on repairing a giant machine, The Sling, to transport their people to another star system and flee the coming disaster. Unfortunately, The Sling and The Overlock are both adaptations of the same machine...
The Cosmic Embrace: the weirdo faction. The smallest, most mystic, and overall hippy-est. Short on space, people, and resources, but not on idealism and enthusiasm. They're poking the weird shit of the setting, and getting results. A little culty. In the playtest I was in, I played Cosmic Embrace, obviously.
Notably, you can have PCs all be in the same faction, or be split between them. If split, there's lines of conflict, but also room for alliances and subterfuge. PCs can, and might well, switch faction in play.
As well as your faction, you pick your pilot type. There's three broad types of pilots you can be:
Genebuilt, artificially created super-pilots with custom genetics to make them good in space. Divided into two rough types; the Violet Kind (for if you were a successful project, and inhereted mysterious abilities) or the Rat Bitch (for if you... weren't, and mostly just inhereted emotional issues). There's some interesting space to play with the idea of nature vs nurture here, or with the pressure of expectation.
Baseliners, aka normal humans who haven't been genetically engineered or tinkered with. Again, divided into two types; the Shining Star (for if you're keeping up with the best through sheer talent and training) and the Baseline Breaker (for if you're a normal person getting by with determination and adaptability.
And then, lastly, the Returned. People who died - or nearly died - and were brought back. The character creation section only mentions one sort of Rebuilt - the Returned, who have been remade by the power of humans science - but hints that other sorts might exist. And indeed they do, tied to the mysteries of the setting.
I ended up playing a Rat Bitch, who'd seen her best buddy get horribly fucked up in a training exercise and gone awol. It was great fun.
Lastly, your X-10. Each faction has three models of X-10, divided by function: Warriors to be brutal front-line fighters, Rogues to be mobile scout-types, and Witches that do weird shit and fight at range. Out of these, each faction has its own version of each of these archetypes. Some X-10 models are pretty common and mass-produced (like the Ogress, the Reach's warrior-frame), and some are rare or even unique (like the Hag, the homebound's rare and experimental Witch type that can fuck with time and space).
Each X-10 has its own Violet Core, the psychoactive crystal that's at the heart of the mech and gives the game it's name. Thoughts from the violet core filter through to the pilot, and visa versa. If you pilot a Hag for long, you'll start thinking Haggish thoughts, and your own emotions will start to seep into the core. It can get real strange real fast.
Each type of X-10 feels and plays extremely differently, in a way I personally found made your choice of frame a reflection of your pilot's personality. My pilot ended up in a Mermaid - the Cosmic Embrace's version of a Witch frame - that had the ability to shift space around it (her?), and 'swim' out of the normal world into sub-space. Which brings me to...
The Spaces & The Mysteries
As well as the material, mundane world - what Violet Core terms 'top-space' - there are two other spaces that exist.
Sub-space is a serene, empty (is it?) realm that lies below top-space. You can dive into sub-space in the right X-10s, and explore. Time and space are wierd and fluid here. If you dive deeply, you find... things. If you dive too deep, you might not come back the same, or at all. There are mysteries down there. Remember I mentioned there are other types of Returned you might become? Yeah. Remember those Violet Cores that power your X-10s? They're made from something called 'the fingers' found deep down in sub-space. Who's fingers? You see where I'm going with this.
There's also The Violet Realm. This is the psycho-sphere, the realm of dreams and emotions and mystical experiences. The violet core of your X-10 links you to the Violet Realm. You can meditate to experience it, to commune with what's within...
This is a setting with mysteries. There are things to explore, forces and powers beneath the surface. I won't elaborate. Partly because I don't want to spoil the discovery for you, and partly because I don't want to read it all and spoil myself before I can play this again. What I will say is that the bits I did read ahead on give you a lot to explore, and are explained in a way that make how they tie into the wider setting and plot. It's all coming together into something impressive.
Personally, as a player of rpgs (larp and ttrpg) I really enjoy settings which present you with mysteries and mysticism, which let you explore the underlying nature of this universe in ways that are at times rational and at times intuitive or mystical. It's an itch few other ttrpgs have scratched for me. Lacuna and Orpheus were, until now, games that achieved what I wanted; now I get to add a third game to the list in Violet Core.
In case it wasn't clear, this is high praise. This is extremely high praise.
Mechanics
I'm going to assume you're already sold. If you aren't, let me make a statement:
I'm mad I didn't think of these game mechanics.
The core engine is pools of d4s, in a way I believe is drawn from forged in the dark. However, unlike FitD, I really like how VC handles its rolls. Particularly - as I mentioned above - the way players can pull on the connections between PCs to offer each other dice, and the way this affects the game.
The core is pretty simple but has nuance. There are PbtA-style moves - things like Negotiate, or Hurt, or Shield - that trigger when you do a particular thing. You roll, and get a codified result based on the result. When you roll, you get a number of dice depending on how you're going about it. In person, you use your talents; things like Making Out and Using Your Head. In your X-10, you use the X-10's talents, things like Synchronising and Drawing Near. An example: You're piloting a Mermaid, and you see your friend (piloting an Ogress) is about to be struck by spiraling comet shards. To save her, you dive across to pull her out of top-space and into sub-space with you, dipping out of the material world to avoid the hazard. Since pulling somebody into Sub-space with your X-10 is Draw Near, you roll as many d4s as your Draw Near pool, and count how many hits you get. Since you're trying to protect somebody, you take that result and look at the Shield move to see what happens.
It's a simple core that's then built on with more detail, giving it a lot of room for nuance and expression.
Further, there's a neat little system for tracking the emotional connections between PCs and how they escalate over time. As they escalate, you pick statements to describe how you feel, pinning down the nature of the relationship, that will get deeper and more intense the further in you get. And the further in you get, the more potent it is when you hand another player your dice to assist her PC.
In play its such a neat, deep, evocative system that it made me really mad I didn't think of it myself. It's basically perfect.
Sorties, in which our cosmic purple space robots punch each other
Up front. Although your in giant space-mechs with giant space-weapons, combat isn't meant to be lethal and horrid. It's intense, and gritty, and emotional raw, but in the way that a bloody-knuckled fist-fight is, not in the way that a shootout is.
Fights aren't war. They're personal.
There's a lot of dancing metaphors in how the fights are described. You might be sparring or actually seriously going after each other, but either way, a fight is an interplay between two characters at their most intense. That thing where a fight scene serves the same purpose as a musical number? Yeah, that.
So. Each fight between X-10s is a Sortie. A sortie is divided into a series of steps, and at each step you pick an option for how you're fighting;
Lead, to be agressive
Sway, to be fluid and fucky
Follow, to be evasive
Sway hits follow, Follow hits lead, Lead hits sway. Its a rock-paper-scissors cycle. (If you get two Leads, both hit, and if you get two follows or sways, both miss.)
When you hit, you can trigger one of the moves as a result. It can get ugly and painful. It could concievably get vulnerable and emotional.
Critically, you have a limited pool of lead/sway/follow actions (depending on your X-10), that get used up as you use them in steps. IE: if you're piloting a Witch, you can use Sway twice and Lead & Follow once. So, you can count what you're opponent's used up, and predict their moves based on what they've got left. In really long sorties, once you've only got one option left to you, it resets.
A sortie is a sort of dance as you maneuver for the advantageous position, use that to fuck with your oponent, and get your fists bruised.
Damage to your X-10 can bleed through to you. Contact between two X-10s can bleed through to their pilots. Things can get strange, particularly when there's Witch X-10s involved.
I'm gonna quote the book again here:
Not all pilots fight to win. Some pilots fight to hurt.
The Gay Bits
As you might have realised by now, it's a really fucking sapphic game. Not as a focus, but in the way where all our PCs are assumed to be some sort of dykey queer type because that's just the kinda tone we're going for.
To misquote Sarah's fellow aussie: "This is my book motherfucker, they'll walk be lesbians if I tell them to".
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Pulling It All Together
Tonally, it's a fucking slam dunk. The world bleeds with a very specific atmosphere, a sort of dykey grungey weirdness that draws on old late-80s to early-90s mecha anime, and Heaven Will Be Mine, and weird scifi.
The writing has a really strong voice. Sarah doesn't write like a typical clinical dispassionate ttrpg text, she writes like Sarah. There's little witicisms, emotional bits, slang. It reads like somebody passionately explaining how to play in person.
There's a lot of snippets of in-character text - chat logs, reports, records, recordings - that give you a sense of the sort of people in this world.
The art is all fucking gorgeous. Mostly Sarah art, with some guest spots.
It is extremely purple, so purple its even in the name.
In conclusion:
Listen I am wildly biased because I've been friends with Sarah for yonks, but even if I wasn't I'd be incredibly enthusiastic about this game because:
a) it seems to have been carefully fine-tuned to hit my tastes.
b) it's really fucking good. Really fucking good.
It's an idiosyncratic personal work that also has a huge cosmic scope to it. It fucks around with the medium of dice-based ttrpgs in interesting ways. It's gorgeously written. It's got a setting that makes me want to dive in and explore it.
You should go back the kickstarter when it goes live, and tell your friends about it, and I am not kidding. If this game isn't a wild success there is something wrong with indie ttrpgs. The kickstarter is here, I believe it's due to go live in a couple of days.
If any bloggers are interested in getting a preview copy of their own, hit me up and I can hit up Sarah and we can sort things out.
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