#riverside press

[uwmspeccoll]

More Folktales

With Women’s History Month coming to a close, I offer you one final book that caught my eye first by the lovely gold accented cover, followed by the stories and illustrations inside. 

The Book of Saints & Friendly Beasts was written by American author Abbie Farwell Brown (1871-1927) and illustrated by Fanny Young Cory (1877-1972). It was first published in Boston and New York by Houghton, Mifflin, & Co. in 1900, printed at the Riverside Press and designed by the incomparable Bruce Rogers. The book contains twenty-two stories that focus on a different saint and animal in each tale as well as illustrations that coincide with a handful of the tales.

The Book of Saints & Friendly Beasts was actually Brown’s first published book and was intended for a younger audience. She was inspired to write the book after her trip to Chester Cathedral in England in 1899. The animals that coincide with the tales were inspired by the moral tenets of Christianity, which I found to be quite interesting. This book and its initial publication was what led to her career as a children’s book author.

Fanny Young Cory’s desire to draw began at a young age, where she drew on anything that she could. She made her first sale in 1898 to The Century Magazine, and once her career blossomed, she did covers and interior illustrations for various other magazines. Her most enduring effort, however, and one she considered to be her finest work, was a project she started as a means of relaxation and came to be known as The Fairy Alphabet.

View more posts from our Historical Curriculum Collection of children’s books.

View more Women’s History Month posts.

-- Elizabeth V., Special Collections Undergraduate Writing Intern

[unopenablebox]

this is an insanely misleadingly overblown press release about a kind of lackluster paper that basically demonstrates none of these claims

the premise of this paper is that there is a version of mouse nodamuravirus (NoV) (which is as best as i can tell not a human pathogen nor terribly similar to any) which, when attenuated via mutation/KO of a protein that suppresses the cells' foreign-RNA-targeting RNAi response, does not cause disease in mice, presumably because the mice can destroy all the viruses with their RNAi pathway instead.

so what this paper shows is if you inoculate mice, even mice lacking the B and T cells that usually confer immune response to vaccines, with attenuated NoV followed by usually-lethal doses of normal NoV, this leads to survival by most of the mice for up to 3 months after initial inoculation. this is interesting because 1. it's unusually long-lasting for an adaptive-immunity-independent immune response 2. it implies that removing RNAi suppression could be a productive method of generating attenuated viruses as part of vaccine production, and that there's some kind of systemic (body-wide) response being generated to this specific attenuated virus (surprising if it really is due to RNAi activity, since RNAi is a cell-autonomous response)

things this paper absolutely does not show:

that this immunity comes from RNAi/is actually processing or responding to the "whole genome" of the virus

that it confers immunity to multiple variants or strains of NoV (they only tested the NoV strain that the attenuated virus was made from)

how strong the induced immune response is (e.g. is it causing the mice other issues from massive inflammation due to circulating attenuated virus or hypothetical circulating small RNAs?)

that it would last beyond 3 months (the press release claims "9 mouse days are 1 human year" which is extremely dishonest w/r/t the timeline of mouse vs. human immune response; for our purposes that's just a lie)

that it would work for a nasal spray (they use a kind of injection not used in human vaccines for everything except a negative control, where they nasal spray in a different virus that isn't immunized against by attenuated NoV and that accordingly it doesn't work on)

that it would work for the flu

that it would work in humans

the first three, especially 1 and 3, are, frankly, crazy oversights from a paper trying to propose a new vaccine development method & type of vaccine response and i'm kind of shocked they weren't addressed in the paper more. 4, 5, 6, and 7 would be pretty unreasonable criticisms of this paper and could be considered out of scope, except that there is an insanely irresponsible press release implying all these things are known.

the only time the paper touches on the idea of creating a non-strain-specific vaccine is in the final paragraph of the discussion a.k.a. the most speculative part. the entire premise of the claim that it would be non-strain-specific depends on the idea that this is all due to the body developing an RNAi-based "memory" of past viruses, possibly due to previous work (from the same lab) claiming that they find extracellular vesicles in the blood containing small viral RNAs after infection with attenuated NoV, and that adding these vesicles to cells promotes NoV resistance. however, they don't demonstrate that these small viral RNA vesicles are either sufficient or necessary to generating the kind of medium/long-term responses they're discussing in this vaccination paper. also, extracellular vesicle research in general is a... messy field with very bad causal demonstration (especially when you need to perfectly isolate the vesicles from any identically-sized viruses among them), it's otherwise not clear how RNAi could lead to a response over the whole body, and they don't even do any other tests impairing RNAi activity in order to confirm more clearly that this is an RNAi-dependent phenomenon.

like, if it were an RNAi-based vaccine that worked by somehow transmitting a long-lasting RNAi response against a virus to most or all cells in the body, that might well be relatively strain-agnostic and much harder for viruses to evade, and there's probably some chance it might work in some immunocompromised people if the b/t-cell-independence of the effect held true in humans and it doesn't work by e.g. also causing massive inflammation. but, uh, it's a real fucking journey from where we are to there.

“Scientists at UC Riverside have demonstrated a new, RNA-based vaccine strategy that is effective against any strain of a virus and can be used safely even by babies or the immunocompromised. Their flu vaccine will also likely be delivered in the form of a spray, as many people have an aversion to needles. “Respiratory infections move through the nose, so a spray might be an easier delivery system,” Hai said. Additionally, the researchers say there is little chance of a virus mutating to avoid this vaccination strategy. “Viruses may mutate in regions not targeted by traditional vaccines. However, we are targeting their whole genome with thousands of small RNAs. They cannot escape this,” Hai said. Ultimately, the researchers believe they can ‘cut and paste’ this strategy to make a one-and-done vaccine for any number of viruses. “There are several well-known human pathogens; dengue, SARS, COVID. They all have similar viral functions,” Ding said. “This should be applicable to these viruses in an easy transfer of knowledge.””

—

Vaccine breakthrough means no more chasing strains

This is HUGE. This will fundamentally change how we get inoculated.

[pd-lyons]

From The Country Of Stones by PD Lyons

riverside, Waterbury Ct. From The Country Of Stones me and the small talk angel find no way to mark the years not much at all worth mentioning on corners of dull marble we lean without surprise without concern without big questions just slight curiosities bringing us together in a penny tossing park bench kind of way from the book Caribu & Sister Stones Poetry by pd Lyons published by Lapwing,…

[reasonsforhope]

"An environmental toxicologist in California is cleaning up areas contaminated with heavy metals or other pollutants using fungi and native plants in a win-win for nature.

Where once toxic soils in industrial lots sat bare or weed-ridden, there are now flowering meadows of plants and mushrooms, frequented by birds and pollinators: and it’s thanks to Danielle Stevenson.

Founder of DIY Fungi, the 37-year-old ecologist from UC Riverside recently spoke with Yale Press about her ongoing work restoring ‘brownfields,’ a term that describes a contaminated environment, abandoned by industrial, extraction, or transportation operations.

A brownfield could be an old railway yard or the grounds of an abandoned oil refinery, but the uniting factor is the presence of a toxic containment, whether that’s a petrochemical, heavy metal, or something else.

Noting that she had read studies about mushrooms growing around the Chernobyl nuclear plant, she came to understand further, through her work, that fungi are an extraordinarily resilient species of life that consume carbon, and even though petroleum products are toxic to plants, to mushrooms they are essentially a kind of carbon.

In fact, mushrooms break down several categories of toxic waste with the same enzymes they use to consume a dead tree. They can also eat plastic and other things made out of oil, like agrochemicals.

At the Los Angeles railyard, as part of a pilot project, Stevenson and colleagues planted a variety of native grass and flower species alongside dead wood that would incubate specific fungi species called arbuscular mycorrhizal fungi, which assists plants in extracting heavy metals like lead and arsenic from the soil.

Alongside traditional decomposer fungi, the mixture of life forms demonstrated tremendous results in this brownfield.

“In three months we saw a more than 50 percent reduction in all pollutants. By 12 months, they were pretty much not detectable,” Stevenson told Yale 360.

Decontaminating soil like this typically involves bringing in a bulldozer and digging it all up for transportation to a landfill. This method is not only hugely expensive, but also dangerous, as contaminated material can scatter on the winds and fall out of the backs of trucks carting it away.

By contrast, the plants that draw out the toxic metals can be harvested and incinerated down to a small pile of ash before cheap transportation to a hazardous waste facility.

The technique, which Stevenson says has some scaling issues and issues with approval from regulators, is known officially as bioremediation, and she’s even used it to safely break down bags of lubricant-soaked rags from bicycle repair shops.

“People who live in a place impacted by pollution need to have a say in how their neighborhood is being cleaned up. We need to empower them with the tools to do this,” she said."

-via Good News Network, July 16, 2024

[askdrzinasia]

Hiding in the stripes and shadows

Had a walk along the city river Pasig in Manila, and found this play of light, stripes and colors.

And someone lurking in the shadows.

The Pasig river runs between Laguna de Bay and Manila bay on Luzon island, the main island in the Philippine archipelago. This river is the main divider of Manila into a northern and southern part.

Recovered from dead

It is technically a tidal estuary, since it direction is depending on the water level of the two bays. Normally, that would follow the rainy seasons. Still a freshwater source, its drainage basin covers 4678 km2.

Destroyed by neglect and industrial pollution, Pasig River was declared biologically dead in 1990. Efforts to clean up and return the river to life resulted in fish, birds and flora returning in the last ten years.

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Felix x you

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: romance, best friend to lovers

warnings: none, except that i am not satisfied at all with this but I’ve read it so many times I’m starting to hate it. I might edit heavily later

The moment you park outside the restaurant Lixie is in, you press the call button. Faking an emergency is not too hard, you talk about a friend getting injured and at the hospital, exaggerating your tone and almost making Felix laugh.

He’s out in less than five minutes. Under his bright smile there’s something you can’t decipher. He gets in your car and just his presence makes you happy. Everyone loves Felix, and you’re not immune to his charm either. He’s always kind, generous, sweet and funny. You’re really lucky to have him in your life.

“Ice cream?”

“Yes, please.” It’s so funny to hear his deep voice in such a childish tone.

You don’t press for answers about his date during the drive to your favorite ice cream place, you put on some music and sing loudly with him. Save for that indecipherable look in his eyes, he seems pretty normal.

You take your ice creams and decide to take a walk on the riverside. The wind is pretty chill, but neither of you mind too much. It’s him who brings up the date he was on.

“The date… it was like a blind date. But I didn’t know it was a date until it was too late.”

“Uh- what?” It doesn’t make sense: how did he manage to go on a date without knowing?

“Hannie.” Yeah, maybe it makes sense. Jisung means well, but most of the time the execution is, at best, messy.

“How did he get you?”

“He begged me to go on a double date on the premise it was just because this girl he wanted to go out with was wary of going out alone with him so she’d bring a friend with, but we were supposed to be just wingmen. Or so he told me.”

He licks his ice cream and shakes his head.

“About 10 minutes before we were supposed to meet he called and told me it was a lie and it was a blind date…”

You’re not sure as to what to say. It is very on brand for Jisung, but you can also understand how frustrating it can be for Felix. He’s a sweetheart, he must have felt guilty for having unwillingly misled the girl.

“I couldn’t just leave and stand her up. She knew nothing about the lie, so it wasn't her fault.”

“Was she nice, at least?”

He nods, but he seems almost distracted. “She was nice. Pretty and funny, to be honest.”

“Why didn’t you stay, then?”

He slows down to a stop, and the moment you notice you turn around to look at him, a question on your face. He cleans his mouth with the small napkin and exhales with a small grimace.

“Lix?”

“Because I like you. And I’m not interested in other girls.”

He likes you. Felix likes you. And not in a friendly way. In a like like way. You weren’t expecting that.

“I-“ you start, but you don’t know how to continue that sentence. What do you say to your best friend who just said he likes you? Do you even like him? You’ve always been pretty good at keeping your feelings in check, so after knowing him, when it was clear you were headed towards just being friends, that’s what you set your mind -and your heart- to. He’s your friend, and you didn’t even ever consider more.

“I’m sorry. I’ve kept it from you for a while but I couldn’t anymore. That’s why Jisung insisted on this date. He was trying to distract me.” He turns slightly to watch at the river flowing fast but quietly. “Things don't have to change. If you don’t feel the same it’s okay, but I’d like to stay friends if you’re okay with that. I don’t wanna lose you.”

The idea of Felix losing you is ridiculous to you, nothing is ever gonna make you distance yourself from him. You try to tell him so by hugging him. “Lixie, we’ll always be friends, no matter what.”

You speak into his jacket, and maybe it’s easier this way.

“I thought we were only meant to be friends, so I didn’t even consider looking at you in a different way.” You can feel him tense under your hug. “Wait, wait, listen to me please.” Still hugging him you try to look at him, a smile on your lips. He’s your best friend, he’s the best person you’ve ever met. Being liked by him is an honor, and if you think about it, trying to be something more it’s not something that you hate.

“You’re my best friend, Lix. You know I love you, and I think you’re perfect. I never let myself think about you like that, but I know that if I give it a chance, it’d be so easy to fall in love with you romantically.”

“You don’t have to make yourself like me.”

“Don’t be silly. I’d be lucky to love you. Give me a chance?”

He’s smiling now, and he’s so so pretty like this. He’s always pretty, you tell him constantly, but when he smiles it’s his best look.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure Lixie. Let me take you out on a date? I promise to spoil you…”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you out?”

“It’s okay. You can ask next time.” You kiss him on his cheek and hold his hand, making him resume your stroll.

He really is easy to love, and not even a month later you ask yourself how you ever managed not to be head over heels in love with your best friend boyfriend.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— seven

SUMMARY : dean would rather be doing something else with his time rather than doing research, he’d rather be doing her

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester, donna handscum

WARNINGS : smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, losers), fluff, the plot is abandoned :’(

WORD COUNT : 5.2k

A/N : yes, seven by jungkook. this fills the square for new position on my @jacklesversebingo card. this position is called ‘rocking horse’, lmao, very hot

She was staring at the screen of her laptop, every link was now purple instead of blue from having explored them all on her journey to research all there was to know about the Egyptian goddess Taweret. Still, she found nothing on how to weaken, stop, or kill the hippo. Taweret’s distorted usage of her abilities was getting too out of hand.

Too many pregnant people. Too many old people getting young again. Especially couples. For now, at least, that’s all that’s happened. 

Typically Sam, Dean, and Y/N dealt with the killing, the death, and the blood, but Donna managed to pick this up on her own and called the brothers for backup because it was starting to get way too ridiculous—terrifying, really. Reapers were overwhelmed and while the Winchesters and Y/N didn’t really care about how they were feeling, it was a major problem—when speaking about the universal rules: what is, what should be, what was, what should never be, etcetera. 

Unfortunately, the research has led to no real or useful information for how to stop the Goddess, not even how to kill her. And once Dean started to hum Travelling Riverside Blues while shaking his leg impatiently in the fourth hour, she couldn’t focus on anything else anymore.

Now that same song was stuck in her head and she glared at her laptop while trying to get a different song to replace Led Zeppelin’s in her mind. It wasn’t a bad song, but it got irritating, and every song somehow morphed right back to Travelling Riverside Blues. Her and Dean had been so good about focusing on the research, but sometimes one of them always made it impossible for the other to maintain that amount of silence and focus around each other. 

It usually started with some small conversations: How’s the research going? Have you found anything yet? Hey, remember when…? Are you hungry? I’m kinda hungry. Aren’t you tired? And so on. 

Then there were glances. From a distance, they’d stare at each other when the other isn’t looking, wondering if enough time has passed to not feel guilty for wanting to take a break. They’d smile to themselves, catching cute little habits in body language or facial expressions. 

Sometimes—most of the time—there was some sexualisation. If she’s wearing a skirt or a dress, he’d stare at the curve of her legs in some really sexy heels. He’d wish to have them wrapped around his waist as he fucks her or thrown over his shoulders with his face buried between her legs. He’d have to subtly place a hand over his crotch and hope his erection would go away or stop getting harder. 

If the neck of her clothes was low enough to show some cleavage, he’d spend his time analysing the size of them, the roundness and perkiness of them in the clothes she wore. Or remembering the way they felt in his hands, warm and soft, and the way she looked so hot when he’d tease her sensitive nipples with his fingers, the noises she made playing in his head until he was hot and red in the face.

And his mind would drift endlessly to the memory of her naked body. The perfect dip of her waist when he holds her there and the way she squirms when he does it. The softness of her skin when his hands and his mouth are exploring, sucking, licking, biting, tasting her as his mouth waters hungrily; touching, squeezing, scraping, possibly bruising her body so she could always remember him. So she could always feel him and where he had been. 

He’d stare at her hands as she typed away at the laptop, expertly pressing the keys with those swift and elegant fingers of her. She’d keep her nails relatively short and occasionally did them nicely. Currently, they were painted a mossy green colour that matched the gem of the silver ring she wore, one he’d picked out for her. Both of them knew the nail polish wouldn’t last, but he liked when she felt beautiful, it somehow made her a billion times more beautiful. 

It was the memory of them slowly moving across his body, worshipping while soft and sometimes cold, smaller than his, that made him bite his lip. Even the gentle caresses to his face when he was on the brink of breaking apart into dust in grief and despair. Her hand in his whenever they went somewhere, while they slept, in the Bunker, in the Impala, during sex. 

If he’s rolled up the sleeves of a white dress shirt, she’ll stare at the way the material stretches over his chest and broad shoulders, tightening around his arms when he flexes his hands and arms as a result of a cramp or the like. With that tiny fucking waist of his accentuated by the shirt tucked into his slacks, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to fuck him senseless or hold him gently in her arms. 

If he walked around to get a beer, she’d stare at the tightness of the black slacks over his ass, over his strong thighs when he’d bend over to reach down for the bottle. She’d have to hold back a moan and squeeze her thighs together to stop herself from jumping his bones or actually moaning out loud. 

Even his fucking fingers turned her on. It was fucking annoying, when he’d brush his thumb across his plump bottom lip to swipe away droplets of beer. It was embarrassing the way her walls clenched around nothing just at the memory of having his thick fingers inside her, pushing and stroking, quick and steadfast. Her panties soaked through with arousal with every bit of motion from his hands. Even when he’s cleaning their weapons. 

But the one thing that truly made her lose her mind were his lips. They were so distracting. All the time. Whenever he speaks, her eyes are glued on his lips, but he doesn’t think much of it because she does it often with everyone in order to focus on what they’re saying. He just doesn’t understand how much that doesn’t work for her when it’s his lips she’s looking at. 

All she can think about is how kissable they look, how soft they’d feel against hers, and how funny it would be if she just kissed him mid-sentence. He’d have that cute, bewildered, but pleased look on his face. He bit them often when he was deep in thought, slowly releasing it, turning it red and swollen, just slightly covered in his spit. 

He had the cutest habits with his mouth. Puckering them when he’s eating, pouting all the time, sometimes he said certain words they’d pout even more, and when he was pissed or focused. And then he did that model thing with his lips, leaving them slightly parted as he stared at nothing or was considering something seriously. 

He was fucking delicious. And that mouth of his was ridiculously talented. Really, very yummy…

It was unfair that he looked as sinful and as fuckable as he did without having to try. Even after waking up, with his soft hair spiked up in some places and flat in others. When his voice was thick and hot with sleep and he’d murmur half-irritated words if he was woken too early, or hot and loving things being mumbled against her ear when he was in a mood. 

After all that staring and longing, there would be trips to the fridge, when either one of them grabbed snacks for the other. Hands and fingers brushing against each other when passing over the snacks or drinks. Little smiles were exchanged and yearning sparkled in their eyes, but neither of them did or said anything about it, so the tension grew and grew. 

Maybe one of them might get closer to the other, pretending to curiously look at the work they were doing. Slowly, their eyes would drift innocently to each other and there would be an exchange of teasing and amused smiles. And then they’d bring their laptop or books closer and stay there, slowly legs would start to touch each other. 

It was like a circuit of lust. The endless tensions and the electricity that made them shiver, skin prickling, hair sticking up; for her: nipples tightening and tingly cunt dampening her panties; for him: cock stirring, slowly hardening and straining in his boxers. Their breaths became noticeably heavier and their eyes would be heavy with desire, and their arms and hands would touch to increase the voltage on each other’s skin until they just couldn’t take it and had to do something about it. 

They weren’t quite there yet, but they were both thinking about it. They already knew themselves and how things progressed from years of being together. It was nice.

“This is so fucking boring!” Dean whined abruptly, throwing his head back and running his hands down his face. “We shoulda stayed with Sammy and Donna to talk to witnesses.” He slumped down in his chair with a pout and then turned to look at his girlfriend who pursed her lips to stop a smile from spreading across her tinted lips. 

“You told Sam your knee was still hurting from the last hunt and wanted to come back here,” she reminded him with a laugh, moving the laptop off her lap to twist her torso left and right until the crack of her spine made her sigh happily.

“Yeah, well now my ass hurts, too,” he complained, arching his back in the chair and flattening his hands down his backside as it became numb. 

“Then stop sitting and walk around for a bit,” she suggested, stretching her legs underneath the table so their feet knocked against each other. 

“Ugh, fine,” he grunted petulantly, tapping his foot against hers in retaliation before getting up. He shut his laptop, taking the now-warm beer on the table with him. He squatted for a few seconds and she laughed through her nose, stretching in the chair while she watched him try to ease the pain on his butt from sitting. 

“Fuck, this feels so good… and painful, all at once,” he chuckled, pursing his lips so his little dimples appeared above his lips. He hissed when he strained his sore knee and then sighed when he was satisfied. When he stood up straight, he scrunched up his cute nose when something popped pleasantly, and slapped his own ass with both hands—at the same time. 

“Better?” She asked with a grin. 

“Not really,” he frowned dramatically, hunching his back. 

“Aw, come ‘ere then, sweetheart.” She mimicked his pout, moved her chair back from the table and patted her lap. “Come sit on daddy’s lap,” she said with a grin, then snorted. He let out a loud laugh and stood up straight again, placing his beer back on the table to make his way onto her lap. “Oh, sweet Jesus, you’re heavy,” she whispered playfully when he sat on her legs. 

“Shudup,” he said with a soft laugh, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to play with her hair and resting his over hand on her waist, his thumb brushing back and forth distractedly. 

“So, how’s it going?” She asked, a soft smile growing on her lips as she looked up at him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, intertwining her fingers to keep her hands from slipping away. 

“I’m bored,” he mumbled, lifting his hand from her waist to play with the thin strap of her red dress. 

“Yeah, you said that.” She stared at him for a moment, watching the way his eyes drifted from her hair, to her shoulder, and finally her breasts. 

“Do you have any idea how much I wanna fuck you?” Dean asked unexpectedly, his eyes snapping back up to hers to capture her reaction. She blinked at him in astonishment, a smile slowly growing on her face. “How much I’ve wanted to bend you over every counter we’ve come across?” He murmured, cupping the back of her head to gently tilt her head back, her lips parting and her heartbeat rising in response. She tightened her entwined fingers, staring into both of his eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers. “How badly I wanna taste you? Kiss your lips? And touch every inch of your sexy body?” 

“Dean,” she uttered breathily. 

He smirked, teasing her by keeping his face inches away from hers, refusing her the pleasure of a kiss. His fingers slipped away from the strap of her dress to sneak into the top, but as his hands turned downward to cup her breasts, his fingers brushed against coarse material.

“Fucking boobtape,” he whispered and she laughed.

“My tits have to stay up somehow and not slip out if I have to fight,” she reasoned, feeling his fingers start to pick at the sticky tape. “Plus, a bra won’t make this dress look very nice. I mean… it’s got you this needy and hard...” She bit her lip and untangled her fingers to slide a hand between his legs. He became stiff and his breath hitched when she patted his hardening dick. “Get off me,” she murmured lightheartedly, letting him go completely. 

“Y-yeah, okay,” he stammered, swiftly standing up off her lap. 

He’d barely straightened up in front of her when she was starting to pull at the dark green tie to bring his lips down to hers in a rough kiss. He all but moaned against her mouth, grasping her hips desperately to pull the thin and silky cloth up so it bunched up at her waist, exposing some seamless, red panties that nearly matched the softness of the blood-red dress. 

“Bed,” she murmured airily against his lips. 

Dean nodded and quickly pressed his lips against hers again, moving with her as she made her way backwards, his hands groping and touching her body, hers pulling and tugging at his hair, their teeth clashing and tongues licking into each other's mouths. Lost in eachother, she ended up pressed against the wall with his knee shoved between her legs.

He pulled away, just to keep teasing her, “think I can make you cum on my thigh again?” He kissed down her jawline, his stubble tickling her soft skin, setting her nerves alight when he got to her neck, kissing softly and gently nipping at her pulse. 

“I don’t doubt it,” she moaned, tilting her head back for him to stay there longer. He began rocking his knee back and forth, wrapped his arm around her waist and jutted her hips out slightly to position her perfectly on the tensing muscle of his thigh. 

She grabbed at his hips with both hands and gasped at the friction on her clit. She started to roll her hips to match his movements, fumbling with his belt, struggling only because he wouldn’t keep still and her hands were shaking with desire, but she got it off eventually. 

He pulled away from her before she could unbutton his pants and she pouted at him.

“Come sit on daddy’s lap,” he mocked her words from earlier with a laugh, sitting down on the bed. He patted his thigh for her to continue riding, and while the thought of that was hot, she was hung up on him calling himself daddy, even if it was a joke.  

“Ewww,” she complained, holding back laughter. Still, she made her way between his legs and straddled one of his thighs, kissing his cheeks and forehead rather than plopping down and riding his thigh. 

“Can I take the titty tape off?” He asked, lowering the neck of her dress to peek at the tape that matched her skin tone. She nodded, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter, and settled onto his thigh, busying herself with loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. 

“What if I tattoo your name on my body?” She murmured. Dean shifted his gaze away from her chest to look at her inquisitively, blindly and carefully peeling off the tape from the skin of her breast. “Not a tacky tattoo, maybe Times New Roman, font size 10,” she replied playfully, dropping a chaste kiss to his parted lips.

“Oh,” he uttered shyly, and stayed quiet for a couple of moments. “Where?” He finally asked, giving her time to think before moving to her other breast to remove the tape there. She pondered for a while and then shrugged.

“Maybe… my finger,” she answered, wiggling her middle finger mischievously at him—as if flipping him off. He laughed at her, balled up the tape now that he was done, and threw it on the floor. 

“No….” He disagreed gently, grabbing her hand to close her fist, then kissed her knuckles. She bit her lip, smiling shyly when he looked up at her through his thick lashes. 

“No?” She questioned, rolling her hips against his thigh, her knee gently brushing against his erection. He shook his head and moaned, leaning forward to press hot and wet kisses along her neck. 

“Maybe here,” he murmured against the sensitive skin of her neck, nipping at her pulse point. She gasped and squirmed against his thigh, fisting his white t-shirt in one hand and burying her fingers into his hair with the other. “Or here,” he suggested, squeezing her breast, “maybe here would be better,” he added, then slapped her ass hard enough for her to yelp and jump. 

“All three of those places, then?” She teased breathlessly, rolling her hips slowly and sensually. He sucked softly at her clavicle, then dropped a few kisses onto her breasts. 

“Definitely,” he approved, dragging his lips up to her shoulders, letting his mouth push away the thin straps of her dress. “My favourite places.” She chuckled, squirming impatiently on his thigh. She guided his lips back up to hers by tugging at the short strands of his hair, choosing to nibble on his lip teasingly until he crashed his mouth against hers. “Need you…” he whispered between needy kisses, and slowly started to lift her dress upwards.

While she removed the dress, he shrugged off the white dress shirt, struggled a little when the sleeve got caught around his watch. “Fucken…” he grunted, unbuttoning the cuff with irritation.

“Don’t worry, baby, I love taking my time with you,” she laughed, pulling the t-shirt out from where it was tucked into his pants.

“Well, me personally? I don’t wanna have to pull out halfway through sex because Sammy’s on his way back. Not again,” he said seriously, lifting his arms to help her remove his shirt. She gave him an empathetic smile which quickly turned into an amused one when she remembered how uncomfortable and sensitive he had been the rest of the day. “It’s not funny, I was about to come, but fucken Sam had to text…” he pouted, then smiled when she started to laugh. 

“Yeah… as funny as that was, I really need to come right now,” she conceded and climbed off his lap to remove her underwear. Dean reached out excitedly for them, playfully brushing her hands out of the way to pull her underwear down swiftly. 

“I want you to come, too,” he said, licking his lips. She laughed quietly, holding his shoulders for balance, lifting her knee up so he could take her underwear off completely. “On my dick, though, not in my thigh,” he clarified, immediately pulling her back into him. 

He dropped impatient kisses along her waist, forcing her to climb onto the bed on her knees, before moving his mouth upwards, his hands exploring her smooth body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes and unsuccessfully tried to steady her breath. She held him close to her, let him slowly pull her down onto his lap until their hips met. 

“Dean, you gotta get your pants off,” she sighed. 

“Stay,” he breathed, rolling his hips up into hers as a promise of what he’d give her. She moaned in surprise, whining when he pulled away and spread his legs, forcing her to do the same. Cool air passed between her soaked folds and she gasped.

Awkwardly, he fumbled with his slacks’ button between their bodies, careful not to make her shift or fall back with his brisk and eager movements. He shoved the pants down his legs, boxers sliding down right along with them, and kicked them off his feet.

He didn’t care about doing it properly and immediately drew her close to him when he heard the sound of his clothes hitting the floor. She laughed against his mouth, reached down between their bodies to wrap her hand around his cock. 

He cursed softly against her mouth, grabbed her hips roughly and moved her hastily onto her back. It didn’t stop her from playing with him, teasing him by rubbing the hot and hard length of him through her folds. When she made a ring with her forefinger and thumb, he roughly sank his teeth into her shoulder and groaned loudly, freezing at the overwhelming pleasure of her fingers tightening around him and moving upwards in precise twists.

“Goddamnit,” he hissed, “shouldn’t have… told you I like—ah, shit!” He jolted, bucking his hips involuntarily when she started to massage underneath the head of his cock, nearly losing himself and nearly giving into the threat of his orgasm. “No.. wait,” he whined, weakly stopping her with his hands around her wrist.

“You sound so fucking hot when I do that,” she chuckled, “you know I can’t help myself, Dean.” Still, she let go of him and licked her fingers clean of the precum that coated them. 

“I have something in mind,” he started suggestively, placing a rough kiss on her lips. She hummed softly and sucked on his lip, watching him move down her body with his lips and hands. He pulled away from her completely and positioned himself in the centre of the bed, patting the spot between his legs. 

“You and your slutty little imagination,” she teased, crawling up to him. She parted his thighs, kissed along the inside of his soft—slightly scarred—skin and licked up a stripe of the underside of his cock. He groaned, reaching out for her arm when she twirled her tongue around the leaking tip, sucking gently on the soft head. 

“Enough of that, beautiful,” he murmured, tugging her upwards by her arm and away from his dick. She pouted, letting go of his cock with a loud and obscenely wet pop that made him groan. “Lean back,” he instructed delicately, licking his lips when she brushed her wet lips against his teasingly. 

With a small ‘okay’, she complied, leaning back with her hands flat behind her on the bed, her two thighs resting on either side of him. “Now, what?” Dean wrapped his hands around her knees instead of replying, and started to bend them upwards. She wiggled around slightly, moving with him and bit her lip when he slid his hands beneath her knees to hold her waist. 

One of his hands migrated from her waist to wrap around his cock, guiding himself slowly and teasingly through her folds. She became flustered, staring at him with her knees bent over his forearms.

“This is…” she trailed off, cheeks red and heart beating wildly behind the cage of her ribs. 

“Very hot,” Dean finished for her. He let go of his cock just to reach over to the bedside table where his phone was resting. She looked curious at him, thinking maybe he’d check on Sam before they got started, but instead he opened the camera and swiped until he was on the video recording section. “Is this okay, babe?” He asked, gazing back into her eyes, his thumb hovering over the red button. 

“Yeah, D.” She nodded, chewing shyly on her lips. “Do you have way more videos of us fucking than of us doing.. ya know, cute romantic shit?” She asked, not caring that he was already recording. He scoffed, positioning the camera to capture her dripping folds, her breasts, and the bottom half of her face rather than his body.

“This is romantic,” he told her matter-of-factly. 

“Mm, yeah.. right,” she snickered and lifted herself up using the strength of her arms so she could then lower herself on his cock. 

“You don’t think so?” He grunted, watching lewdly as he stretched her pussy open, slowly disappearing inside her warmth. “I think it’s pretty romantic, watchin’ videos of how I fucked you… jerking off to them when I miss you. Listening to how needy and desperate you get for me when you’re about to come…” He explained explicitly, holding her waist tightly, when their hips met completely. 

“It’s not just about the sex, baby,” he added, gazing into her eyes. She bit her lip and slowly started to lift herself back up again. “It’s about how it makes me feel. How you make me feel. It’s about time. Makin’ you mine, givin’ myself to you, lovin’ you, you lovin’ me in return, us.. being vulnerable.” She squeezed around him tightly and sank back down, her gaze soft. “It’s romantic that there’s no adios afterward, nothin’ for us to hide from each other during, just you and me barin’ our souls to one another… it’s about us.” He pulled her even closer just to kiss her passionately. Her thighs were practically pressed against the front of her body, somehow he managed to sink deeper into her, and he rocked his hips upwards so her clit brushed against his pelvic bone.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, moving one arm to wrap her arm around his neck instead. He smiled against her mouth, and blindly set the phone down on the nightstand, skilfully getting enough in the shot without much fumbling. 

“C’mon, baby, you said you needed to come…” he whispered against her jawline, “so make yourself cum.” Dutifully, she began moving a little faster, trying to find a perfect cadence in this new position. 

He mouthed at the skin of her neck and chest that he could reach, careful to leave very light marks so she could wear that sexy little dress again, and let her take control of everything. Almost immediately, she was able to move at the perfect pace, towards her orgasm and his.

Gasps and grunts, moaning and groaning, they held onto each other trying to bring each other toward their orgasms unhurriedly. She tipped her head back and tried to pull him impossibly close. With the impact of their hips, her clit was stimulated with a pleasant grind of his hips moving upwards, and this time, rather than doing what they always did—slowing down when they were close to extend the proximity of their organs, increasing the intensity of it—he breathily encouraged her to keep going. 

He mindlessly praised her and confessed his love like he always did when he was close, meeting her thrusts far gentler than she was. Still, with one hand behind her and the other in his hair, she tugged on the hairs at the top of his head hard enough to make him moan loudly. His bruising grip on her waist didn’t let up, and his blunt nails dug into her back, waiting for her to cum before he could.

A few more strokes of his cock against her g-spot had her walls pulsing around him, gasping and panting his name, and pressing her forehead against his shoulder as her orgasm finally crashed over her. 

She dropped kisses along his shoulder and neck, shuddering from her orgasm, and with a loud grunt of her name, Dean came inside of her. Slowly, they stopped moving and tried to catch their breaths while holding each other closely. She played with his hair and he soothed her bruised waist with calloused palms, then leaned forward all the way until she was laying on her back to kiss her face lovingly.

“Porn worthy?” She teased quietly, resting her hands on his waist waiting as he made a cute path along her face with kisses to reach her lips.

“I could go a second round,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. He slowly rolled his hips against hers, still buried deep inside her. She groaned softly and wrapped her legs around his waist, encouraging him to keep moving, and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss anything vulgar he was about to say. 

Dean froze above her when he heard footsteps from outside their hotel room, pleading internally that it was random people passing by, but deflated when he heard Sam speak to Donna. “…I hope they found something.” 

“Shit!” Y/n whispered, trying to push Dean off her when the doorknob began to rattle, but Dean didn’t budge, knowing it was no use and wanting to use his body as a shield. 

“Well, the jig is up,” he joked, watching her throw her arms over her chest instead, glaring at him half-heartedly. 

“Dean, your phone!” She reminded him, but Dean shrugged just as Sam swung the door open and stopped mid-sentence with Donna exclaiming some sort of phrase in surprise. Y/n would have laughed at whatever it was she said—Donna’s refusal to actually say a swear word—but she just groaned in annoyance.

“Seriously, guys? Every time!” Sam shouted, apologising to Donna quietly who brushed it off with a quiet ‘it’s okay’. 

Donna sneaked one tiny glimpse at the naked couple just as Sam turned around for them to get dressed. Dean smirked smugly and winked at Donna, then looked away to watch as he pulled out of his girlfriend, their cum spilling out of her. His cock was hard again and Y/n shook her head, waiting for Dean to get the phone and get moving.

“You do realise that it could've been Taweret making you guys…” Sam scolded, filling the silence up as Dean gathered their clothes. Donna blushed and turned around as well, grateful that Sam didn’t mention her hesitation in turning around sooner. 

“Uh,” Y/n stammered, pulling her clothes on when Dean handed it to her. 

“You have a point, Sammy, but we usually do this, anyway, so…” Dean spoke up, giving Y/n a hand so she could stand on slightly shaky legs beside him. “‘sides, I did find something…” Dean announced, pointing to his laptop on the table. With a hard slap on Y/n’s ass, Dean walked to the bathroom to get cleaned up, grasping her small hand with his to bring her with him. 

“Sorry,” Y/n laughed, apologetically bowing her head before following Dean to get herself cleaned up as well. As she walked, she could feel Dean’s cum drip out of her, her panties wet and cool between her legs made her uncomfortable but she kept them on, washing her hands with Dean standing next to her doing the same.

“Well, they’re still cute,” Donna said brightly, trying to brighten Sam’s sour mood, but it only worsened when he opened Dean’s laptop and the open tab was a sex page with a list of positions to try. 

“Seriously, Dean? Close the damn tabs!” 

“Whoops,” Dean snickered, gazing at Y/n who only rolled her eyes at him, affectionately smiling. “Gonna play this video real loud tonight,” he whispered with a grin, shaking his phone in his hand, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead. 

“That’s really funny, but no,” she chuckled, bringing him down for a soft kiss when he pouted at her childishly. 

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[ridenwithbiden]

"Native Americans across Indian Country shared mixed emotions this week after President Biden apologized for the U.S. government’s role in running Native American boarding schools across the country.

During the 150-year practice, at more than 400 schools where the U.S. partnered with various religious institutions, Indigenous children were separated from their families and stripped of their language and customs in an effort to assimilate into white culture. There were also documented cases of abuse and death.

Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland, who is a member of the Laguna Pueblo tribe and has been instrumental in bringing these issues to a wider audience through her Federal Indian Boarding School Initiative, applauded Biden’s move.

“I'm so grateful to [Biden] for acknowledging this terrible era of our nation's past,” Haaland, whose grandparents were taken to boarding schools, posted on X.

ederal Indian boarding schools have impacted every Indigenous person I know. These were places where children - including my grandparents - were traumatized. I'm so grateful to @POTUS for acknowledging this terrible era of our nation's past.

“I would never have guessed in a million years that something like this would happen,” she told the Associated Press.

At the Gila Crossing Community School near Phoenix, Biden celebrated Haaland’s historic role and apologized today for America’s “sin.”

“It’s an honor, a genuine honor … to right a wrong, to chart a new path,” he said. “I formally apologize as president of the United States of America for what we did. I formally apologize. It’s long overdue.”

However, Indigenous leaders and citizens across the country stressed that this is only the first step.

“This is one of the most historic days in the history of Indian Country, and an apology of this size must be followed by real action,” Nick Tilsen, who belongs to the Oglala Lakota Nation and is president and CEO of the Indigenous rights organization NDN Collective, told Yahoo News.

Tilsen believes that there are specific, actionable steps that need to accompany any apology. For him, that means passing the U.S. Truth and Healing Commission bill in Congress, rescinding medals of honor for those who participated in the Battle of Wounded Knee, releasing “longest living Indigenous political prisoner in American history Leonard Peltier, who is also a boarding school survivor” and “unprecedented investment in Indigenous languages and education.”

Principal Chief of the Cherokee Nation Chuck Hoskin celebrated the move, calling out Haaland’s role in particular, and echoed the sentiment of following any apology with action.

“The [Department of the Interior’s] recommendations, especially in the preservation of Native languages and the repatriation of ancestors and cultural items, can be a path toward true healing,” Hoskin said in a statement.

While many Indigenous leaders are calling for action, Tilsen stressed that this is also a time to hold boarding school survivors and their families close.

“At this moment in history, we have to remember many of the survivors of the boarding schools are still alive,” he said. “It's in every household and it's in every community. And it's directly tied to the struggles that our people have today.”

Dylan Rose Goodwill, who is Diné (Navajo), Hunkpapa Lakota and Sisseton Wahpeton Dakota, was visiting Sherman Indian High School in Riverside, Calif., on Thursday when she heard the news about Biden’s forthcoming apology. It’s a place that is part of her family history, as her grandmother (or másáni) was sent there when it served as a federally run Native boarding school.

She told Yahoo News that hearing the news there was “complicated.”

As the senior assistant director of undergraduate admissions at the University of Southern California, Goodwill was visiting the school as a college recruiter.

“I've always had these kinds of mixed feelings because it's been weird to be the admission counselor for the schools that my own grandparents attended,” she said.

“It was already a tough morning to go and then to receive the news on site was really a mixture of feelings because I felt anger mostly, where it was like disbelief that this was happening, excitement that at least it was happening, but also feeling like this isn't enough,” Goodwill added.

Sitting where her grandmother sat in the 1930s and '40s, Goodwill asked herself, “What is that gonna really hold for her now? She passed in '04.”

Biden’s statement comes 16 years after former Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper apologized for Canada’s role in the Indigenous residential school system — a topic filmmakers Julian Brave NoiseCat and Emily Kassie document in their film Sugarcane, about St. Joseph’s Mission School near the Sugarcane reserve in British Columbia.

NoiseCat is a member of the Canim Lake Band Tsq’escen and a descendant of the Lil’wat Nation of Mount Currie and whose grandmother attended the Catholic Church-run residential school and gave birth to his father there. He told Yahoo News that this moment was important for a “continentwide conversation about what happened to Native families and Native children at Native American boarding schools and Indian residential schools.”

Joining Biden and Haaland for the event on the Gila River Indian Reservation along with Kassie, NoiseCat continued, “The fact that the president has chosen to formally apologize to survivors and their families is a real testament to the significance of this story, which needs to be understood as a foundational story to North America.”

However, Kassie echoed that actionable steps must follow sentiment.

“As momentous and important as this day is, it's important that it's followed up with action,” she told Yahoo. “It's important that the records of what happened at these institutions that are held by the U.S. government and the Catholic Church are opened to Indigenous communities who are looking for answers. And it's important that those communities also have the opportunity to hold to account those institutions and individuals who abused them.”

For Tilsen, it’s also a time to “center the survivors.”

“As we sort of politically dissect this moment,” he said, “I also want to recognize the pain that is being resurfaced, and that our people deserve the right to have pain and they deserve the right to have rage in this moment while we lean towards moving forward in action.”

NoiseCat, who has a deeply personal connection to the residential school history, said, “I'm probably going to call my dad today after the apology and just check in with him.”

[awearywritersworld]

the man who embraced wickedness and the woman he used to know

sukuna x reader summary: sukuna is reunited with the only person who ever showed him kindness w/c: 1.25k tags/warnings: heian era!sukuna. angst to fluff. fem!reader. me trying my best to channel an 1800s romance novelist a/n: part 2 to the boy spurned as evil and the girl of his youth. i am once again asking that people check out the artwork by @demonzaemon that inspired these two fics. they also made some artwork inspired by part one, which makes me scream and cry and yell bc it's so wonderful. masterlist

it isn't until nearly two decades after your last encounter that sukuna finally musters the courage to return to the riverside. as he listens to the rush of the water, he hates the way it makes him feel— like the scared, powerless boy he once was.

he won't get too close. instead he stands at the edge of the forest, as if he can hide from his past among the trees.

he decides he must be dreaming when he spots a woman approaching the river, because even though he can see little more than her silhouette, he has no doubt that it's you.

he'd know you anywhere, in this life and the next.

he has no idea how long he stands watching you before he finally gathers the nerve to take a step in your direction.

you look over your shoulder and meet his eye once he's only a few yards away.

the expression that crosses your features is not unlike the one you wore when you first saw him— an earnest sort of wonder.

"it's you," you state as if you've been waiting on him to appear.

"you... remember me?"

"how could i forget?"

you approach him without fear or apprehension, and having you so close after all this time makes his heart race uncomfortably in his chest.

"are you well?" he questions, his eyes trailing down your body before flicking back up to yours. "you look it."

a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, your gaze falling to the ground bashfully. you rock on the heels of your feet before answering.

"i am well enough... and what of you?"

he's not sure that he's being entirely truthful when he replies, "i can say the same, i suppose."

"it pleases me to hear that you have not been suffering all this time. i must admit, i find that my thoughts still wander to you with remarkable frequency."

you laugh lightly at your own confession, fearing he may regard you as strange for it. on the other hand, he's thinking about how the sound of your laughter is the most beautiful thing he's heard since... well, since he last heard it.

"it is not rare for you to occupy the space of my own mind," he returns honestly.

you grab one of his hands, turning his palm up and running your thumb over the faint scar you find there. he hates the way it makes your face fall.

"i am sorry about that night, for what my father did to you. it was my fault for falling asleep—"

"don't," he stops you. "the fault lies only with me. i shouldn't have let him steal you away. i shouldn't have been so utterly weak—"

it's your turn to interrupt him and you press the pads of your fingers to his mouth to keep him from saying anything more.

"that is the farthest thing from the truth. you didn't deserve that. you deserved not one bit of the cruelty the village mercilessly showed you. you were only a boy, sukuna."

when your fingers fall from his lips, he doesn't try to speak. he doesn't trust that his voice won't betray him.

he can't remember the last time he heard his name spoken so familiarly, so warmly. it makes his throat feel tight.

the silence gives you an opportunity to take in the ways in which he's changed over the years.

his kimono and haori are pristine, a far cry from the rags he used to wear.

his frame is more than double the size of your own, and you know he's no longer living on scraps.

he stands tall, his posture straight and self assured, not that of someone who is feeble and frightened.

but you're not referring to any of those things when you point out, "you're different now."

and of course you're right, he just doesn't know how to tell you that the boy you used to spend your days with is gone. that the blood on his hands is no longer his own. that the person standing before you is nothing more than the monster the villagers always claimed him to be.

so he just nods in agreement and your eyes sparkle as you regard him with curiosity.

"i loved you, you know," you tell him sincerely.

your confession is painful to hear, because it reminds him of everything he lost that night.

"i could love you now, too." you reach up and caress his cheek, trying desperately to read the expression he's wearing. "if you'll let me."

for a moment, you think he might agree to your offer, but your hope is short lived.

"this... this was a mistake."

he turns to leave, intending to retreat to the shadows of the forest, but a small hand wraps around his wrist.

"no." your tone is forceful.

if only you knew what happens to most people who dare speak that word in his presence.

he doesn't say anything, so you add, "the only mistake you've made is waiting so long to come back to me."

he's surprised upon seeing the frustrated tears that well up in your eyes.

"we are but strangers to one another." his reminder stings and it shows plainly on your face. "and that is for the best, i assure you. you don't want to know me— to know the things i've done."

"i care not what you've done!" your voice is so loud, it sends a flock of birds fleeing from a nearby tree. "i care not what horrors loneliness may have driven you toward, because when we belonged to one another you were good. you were kind. you were—"

"stop." each of your words is like a knife in his chest, and his voice cracks from the ache of it.

"i will not! if your only intention was to reject me, why come here at all?"

"i don't know—"

"precisely! you want me, just as i want you. my devotion is yours, sukuna! there is no reason for you to reject that which i willingly give—"

"enough!" he barks at you, grabbing you roughly by the shoulders. you don't shy away from him, even in spite of the way his fingers dig into your flesh and his nose flares angrily.

"you believe that because you showed me a sliver of kindness when we were children that i should throw myself at your feet? your devotion means nothing to me! it does little more than inspire my disgust!"

the words taste like poison on his tongue, but he needs you to believe them.

he needs to believe them himself.

he pushes you away, and while it's not harshly enough to send your body flying to the grass, it does make you stumble backwards.

ire burns in your eyes and he thinks he's succeeded in his endeavor, but once he turns to leave, you're grabbing his wrist again and launching yourself against him.

your hands find his face and you pull his lips to yours despairingly. your bodies move together as if you've spent a lifetime in one another's arms.

then, he's pulling away from you. he's calling you a pathetic fool. he's looking at you with animosity.

but just as quickly, his lips find yours again and he grabs at the fabric of your kimono in an attempt to bring your body closer to his own.

you swear his hands tremble as they find a home on the curve of your hips.

once your lips part, he holds your gaze for what feels like an eternity.

resignation seems to dance across his features, but there's something else there too. desire? hope? longing?

you really can't say for certain.

"i am yours, and you are mine."

you're not sure if it's a question or a statement, so you offer him a slight nod of your head. "today and always."

[luna0713hunter]

Hello ! ! How are you? I hope you're doing fine as usual, i hope you're taking care of yourself because you matter < 3. If you're taking requests, can i request wind breaker boys ( + suo ) with their crush who's the sweetest among the people in town but they're also dumb when it comes to romance (dating) stuff:3?

A/n : Hello hello darling angel✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧how you doll?well arent you sweet?im doing fine,alittle bit tired but I'll managed~ and- oh my gosh!!!my first wind breaker request!!you cant believe how happy this makes me!!!!such a cute one too!!!hope uou enjoy reading it!! (And gosh im crushing so hard on Sou but mostly Hajime Umemiya!)

(also,im very slow at writing so pls forgive me )

Wind Breaker boys with a sweet S/O

Featuring : Sakura Haruka,Hayato Suo

Sakura Haruka

•first of all,we know Haruka is no genius when it comes to love

•two clueless idiots

•when Haruka first saw you,he had immediately blushed crimson red as you took his injured hands in yours and gave him a worried look

•ever since he got to this town, he's been experiencing unusual kindness from everyone around him

•but you

•oh gods

•you're so different from everyone in his entire life that he doesn't know what to do with himself

•Haruka often finds himself wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers when he's around you;his heart beating wildly in his chest and his skin feeling awfully hot

•its not long before Umemiya points this out to him with his usual kind laughter

•at first, Haruka will deny this

•love?!who the hell falls in love at the first sight?!

•him. That's who

•but then,he starts getting these feelings

•he finds himself searching for you in every crowd,every place he visits

•if there's a fight, you're the first one he gets worried about

•and when you smile sweetly at him,he finds his heart beating out of his chest

•he accepts his feelings later,one night when he's walking you home and your figure is illuminated by the moonlight

•now comes the hard part;how the hell should he tell you his feelings?!

•and it doesnt help that you're the most dense person he's ever seen when it comes to romantic feelings

•and he's seen himself

•but eventually,you start taking some hints here and there

•when Haruka convinces Kotoha to finally make him some takeouts,

•he asks you come to the riverside with him at night

•and when you're laughing,sharing the last piece of the sandwich

•Haruka nervously reaches out and nudges his pinky to yours

•and when you immediately wrap your smaller finger around his,he covers his face with his hand

•a content smile settling over both your faces as your cheeks turn dark red

Hayato Suo

•a gentleman

•this dude knows he's in love with you the moment you two meet

•he's not by all means in denial or anything

•but he won't rush in confessing his feelings to you

•Suo will wait, patiently,and drop a hint or two here and there

•expect a lot of romantic gestures from him

•maybe a bouquet of roses, afternoon tea along with your favorite sweets

•or going out on nights he has to do patrol,and end up sitting by the riverbank to watch the moon until the dawn

•Suo will try to give you anything you ever wished for

•after all, you're the sweetest being he's ever laid eye on

•but its no secret that you're slightly... oblivious to his feelings toward you

•and he even finds that cute

•but after a while of adoring smiles,and small, meaningful gifts

•you start to take the hint

•Suo is a kind human at heart, but he's never done any of things he's done with you to anybody else

• he doesnt smile softly at people around him like they've hung the moon and stars

•he doesnt randomly leave others small meaningful gifts here and there

•so when you finally gather enough courage to make a move, Suo's more than happy that you've finally realized his feelings toward you

• "Hayato-kun," your small voice immediately has his attention shifting to you, "do you perhaps....like me?"

•at that, he smiles brightly and takes hold of your hand in his

• a sweet kiss is pressed to the back of your hand and your face flushes deep red

• "ah," he says, "has my darling finally figured it out?"

• when you mumble out a shy "yes" and "sorry for taking so long", Suo will only pull you close and press a gentle kiss to your forehead

•"dont worry about it, my love"

• "you were worth the wait."

Part two (?)

[yuquinzel]

BLUE LOCK BOYS PROPOSING TO YOU !

— feat ⨾ itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro.

— contents ⨾ f!reader, fluff, short imagines !

— notes ⨾ i found this draft from feb it's so shitty im sorry for this :')

RIN thinks he couldn't be more sure of anything than he is of the fact that it's you— wrapped up all sweet and safe in his arms, the warmth of your bodies melding and ghosting over you like a second blanket. windswept hair and silken touches in the night watching the city lights melt with the stars and dwindle in the distance from the balcony, trembling ever so slightly because it's cold, god it's cold so he hugs you a little tighter. you're smiling at him and telling him he's the “prettiest man you've ever seen,” and he's sure —this is how it's supposed to be, how everything feels just right when you lean back in his arms. “what do you say we do this forever, hmm?” he laces two soft kisses on your neck, “for the rest of our lives.”

SAE traces the curves of your palm, the warmth of your hands lingers in his and his thumb pads the skin of your fingers. something dances like stray comets in your eyes and lights up like the cosmos when you smile, “something wrong?” and he hums. he'd thought about a right timing— the time when the words would roll off his tongue and fall right into place. then he thinks there is no right or wrong. it's really just you and him and the world blurred as an afterthought. it's silent for a moment when sae shuffles his pockets in search of something, then you feel the coolness of the metal against your skin, a ring with a little diamond stud. sae reads the surprise in your eyes, the tiny gasp that leaves your lips. he presses his lips to your knuckles, and you feel him smile, “you're mine. deal with it.”

ISAGI thinks he's at a loss for words. he'd practiced this —for weeks— in front of the mirror. everything had been planned, he'd take you out on a riverside picnic like your first date. homemade macarons he knows are your favorite will adorn the plates and when you're not paying attention, he'll stuff the ring in the bread and offer it to you and— but that's where it goes wrong. he's nervous and stumbling over his words, fiddling with his fingers because you saw the ring in his hands before he could stuff it in the bread. you smile and kiss him instead, bubbling laughter finding it's way between your lips and for the first time today, he's at a loss for words. “god, this is not how i planned to do it,” he sighs, sliding the ring down your finger, “just marry me already.”

NAGI can't sleep and he thinks it's your fault. he'd guess it's almost five am already, the first light of dawn glowing in faded baby blues in your room and he's waiting. he doesn't know how long he lies awake tracing unknown patterns on your skin, —if you were awake, you'd think it were hearts over and over again—only stopping when you shuffle lightly. “you're up already? wait, what time is it?” any second now, he thinks, watching you blink away the remnants of drowsiness from your eyes. then you pause, and he fist bumps internally. “sei, what—” you turn to him, watching him with wide eyes and parted lips, pointing to the ring on your finger. a lazy, pretty little grin spreads on his lips, “did you...?” your voice trails off and he pulls you back in, “dunno. love you. marry me.”

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

i may be a little biased oops

[blackhairedjjun]

honesty - c.yj

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst, open ending, non-idol au, best friends to (potential?) lovers | word count: 818 | warnings: profanity, arguing, reader has a toxic ex, implied infidelity (from the ex not yj)

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - HEAT: while engaged in a passionate argument with one another, sender, in the heat of the moment, blurts out “i love you!” to the receiver. think of like, that glorious trope where people have a huge argument and then suddenly sb drops the mic with “because i’m in love with you!” and silences the other person. u know the trope! (requested by anon - "maybe with a bf2lovers au ?")

author's notes: hi anon! tbh it took me a while to write this since i already did the heat prompt with a different member and i didn't want it to be too similar lol. the ending is more maybe-lovers than outright lovers, but i hope you still like it! <3

despite the calm of the river next to you and yeonjun, your circumstances are anything but. you tried to keep your voice low at first, but your emotions run so high that you’ve given up; you care little about the other people staring at you as they stroll past.

“for fuck’s sake, yeonjun!” you yell. “you’re my friend, not my dad!”

“and aren’t friends supposed to look out for each other?!” your best friend grips his hair in his hands as if to pull it out, then lets go. “i’m telling you to stop hoping for him to come back! he doesn’t fucking care!”

“shut up! you don’t know him like i do!”

“i know he broke your heart so bad that you locked yourself up for a week, and that’s enough!” yeonjun takes a few steps toward you, but you step back.

what was supposed to be a calm afternoon stroll with your best friend has now turned into an argument once you brought up the topic of dating your ex again. you open your mouth to speak, then press your lips together. a cool wind blows from behind you; in your silence you hear a young couple laughing by the riverside, and you envy them.

you know that yeonjun is right, but you refuse to give him the point.

“ he destroyed you, y/n. and now he’s pleading for you back when he’s been kissing others?! don’t you know any better than that?!”

“i do! so why don’t you trust me on this?! why don’t you believe me when i say he’s changed? you keep seeing him as the bad guy!”

“and why don’t you trust me?!” yeonjun’s own voice gets louder with each word, oblivious to the stares of others. “i’m not making it up when i say i’ve heard him flirting with girls, i’ve seen him make out with them at parties. i’m trying to protect you from more heartbreak!”

he sucks in a breath and his voice shifts from loud to trembling. again he steps towards you, but you don’t move away. you look down at your hands to avoid his gaze and find them shaking.

“he’ll break you all over again,” he says. “and i can’t let that happen to you again... i couldn’t stand it the first time.”

a voice in your head tells you that he’s not lying; your best friend has no reason to. you ignore it and root your feet to the ground. “and that’s none of your fucking business, yeonjun. just let me make this choice for myself! i don’t need you trying to tell me what to feel. why do you care so much, huh? why are you trying to control how i feel?!”

“because i一 y/n, you can’t be serious一”

“i am serious! why the hell do you care so much about this damn guy?!”

“because i’m in love with you!”

yeonjun’s eyes widen as he realizes what he just said and he takes a few steps back. you’re frozen to your spot, but you no longer feel rooted. instead you feel brittle, as if a single touch could send you crumbling. every nerve in your body feels primed to fall apart.

“shit, i never should have said that. god, i am so sor一”

“yeonjun...”

his name is barely a whisper from your mouth. you swallow hard, unsure what to say. you can do nothing more but stare at your best friend: the one you’ve told everything to, the one you trusted more than anything else, the one who held you in his arms when you cried after your ex broke your heart. the realization that he’s loved you all this time starts to sink in.

there’s an ache in his eyes now, one so strong that you look away. you take a deep breath and hold yourself together long enough to collect your thoughts.

“i am so sorry, y/n.” his voice breaks and you know he’s on the verge of tears. “i shouldn’t have said一”

“no, jjun.” his nickname weighs down on your tongue. “i... i just...”

you can see yeonjun’s shadow growing closer to yours. with one hand he reaches out for yours, trembling still; with the other he gently lifts your chin up to look at him. his eyes shine with tears, but the ache in them has lessened a bit.

you step forward and he collapses into you. you catch him as he stumbles forward, your arms finding his waist and his head buried in your neck. you hold him gently as you can, as if carrying a fragile treasure; his body shakes ever so slightly as he starts to cry and his tears wet your skin.

when you speak, your words are quiet and carefully chosen.

“i ran away from you, jjun. that’s why i tried to date him again... because i thought you’d never love me back.”

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Black Out Days

Gale x F! Tav

18+ chronic pain, drug use (weed), unintentional aphrodisiac (slutweed), groping, dry humping, breast worship (f!), fingering (f!), body caging, roughness, sub/dom, tenderness

Tav's pain rising to an unbearable level, she indulges in some found herbs to find relief. But her sanctuary is laced with some heated side effects...

Masterlist

-

"Please, please I've had enough." She moaned, head resting against cool river stones.

The pain had been spiking over the base of her skull all day in excruciating arcs. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open, force her face to be impassive.

Between every horrible thing that had been happening to them, her chronic pain was her own burden to bear. She hadn't told anyone besides Halsin, the sweet man helped her as much as he could with what was available.

Nothing made her feel worse than being a burden, so she trudged on in silence. Still the leader they needed. Gods only know how she ended up in that position in the first place.

Crouching at the riverside, she gripped at slick stones, whimpering. Finally letting go of her lovingly crafted mask of health. Wanting to slam her insolent head into the earth, but knew that would offer no relief.

Scrambling hands reached into her pack. At the goblin camp, she had pocketed a jar of promising looking herbs.

She brought the unsealed jar to her nose.

Musky, sweet, near sulphuric.

Yes, praise the Gods. Halfling weed.

Packing Halsins borrowed pipe, she leaned back on haunches, the new movement making her stomach spin threateningly. If she could stretch this supply out it could sustain her, at least until she could slip into to an apothecary.

Flicking her fingers, she brought a small flame to the bowl. Breathing in slowly.

As soon as the smoke met her lungs, a spreading warmth caressed up the back of her spine. Gentle fingers splaying up, cradling the base of her skull. The agony dulling into a veiled hissing. Still crouched in the grass, but far from where she sat.

Tears of relief fell down her face. Gods, she could breath again. Body pulled down deliciously yet so much lighter.

She sighed, leaning her head back. Taking a moment to get lost in the crisp night air, the sounds of moving water, insects calling for one another in the dark. Finally able to perceive more than her anguish.

Standing, she headed back towards the orange point of their campfire. Body awash in calm.

As she re-entered their little world a new sensation sidled up to her spreaded peace.

A soothing heat slipped down her front, pressing an insistent touch inside of her pelvis.

Oh.

Kneeling near the campfire, she examined the jar more thoroughly. Lifting the bottom, she found a small scuffed label written in scratchy hand.

Halfing Weed; Succubus Spittle 5%

Hissing a breath between her teeth, she closed her eyes in defeat. Fucking goblins.

Slick already pooling between her legs, she groaned in frustration. Of course her savior came with a demand.

Already, she knew this was not nearly enough to deter her from the alternative. But it didn't make it any less vexing.

Hips already rocking against nothing, she was infinitely thankful that the camp had turned in for the night. Even Astarion off hunting for a few hours, at least.

Especially him, she knew he had the skills she needed in this moment. But she didn't want to do that to him. From one veiled mask to another, she could tell he didn't want her that way.

Dizzy with heat, she rose to head to her tent. More than willing to deal with this desire alone. She had a sure hand and a vivid imagination, it would be an easy burden to bear.

Her infatuation with the wizard could be tonight's theater of the mind. Wide shoulders, soft brown eyes, hair that brushed against his clavicle. The veins in his forearms when he pushed up his sleeves, large hands twisting and pulling with blue magic.

She moaned, and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Reign yourself in, Tav. Gods.

As if summoning him from her salacious imagination, he emerged from his tent.

Drowsily greeting her, he wandered towards the water pump, kneeling next to it. Pulling the lever, he opened his mouth and started swallowing what of the divulge of water he could catch.

She stood stock still, watching this innocuous moment like a wolf watches a rabbit. The desire pooled in her pelvis boiling over.

Wiping his mouth, he rose back to feet. Seeming to fully see her then.

"Tav, you alright? You seem a little flushed, in a haunted type of way."

Gods forgive her for what she was about to do.

Taking his hand, she wordlessly pulled him into his tent.

"What-" Her body cut him off, pressing hard into his.

Running her hands up his taut back, she buried her face into his neck. The curve of his waist bending up into shoulders making her moan softly.

He was so warm, so solid against her pushing. Smelling of old books and leather. Her hand rising to tangle into his hair, tugging gently.

His body seemed to go weak then, gripping onto her for support.

"Tav, Gods..." He shivered.

His voice bringing her back to herself for a moment, she made to pull away. But his hands held her anchor to him.

"Please, don't stop." He pleaded.

Like a flint sparking, she dove back in. Hips fluid and insistent against his. Gathering his sleep shirt in her demanding hands. Pulling his head back to release his neck to her. Pulsing, biting, suckling into the soft flesh.

The herb removing all inhibition, she was a growling animal against him. Hands pinning and pulling, mouth hungry and salivating.

He fell to knees, and she followed him down. Straddling over his lap, licking an obscene line up his panting throat.

His length already a pillar pushing against her. Hands catching her writhing hips, pulling them flush to him.

Her head fell back then, the friction Gods sent. The slick already pooled in her underclothes welcoming him.

Something seemed to snap in him.

His hands wrenched her sleep shirt over her shoulders. Caging over her body, pushing her down on his bedroll.

"Yes," She moaned, falling open for him.

His mouth pushed into hers, gripping the back of her head.

The heat coming off of him was making her head spin. Intoxicating her body into liquid, crashing against him in waves. All smothered soft calls and silent demanding mouths.

Tangling into him like it was all she knew. All her body could know was getting as close as she could without being inside.

He hitched her leg up over his hip and ground down hard. Groaning in the back of his throat. Chest lit up purple, eyes glowing.

Concern arced through her stifling heat.

She cupped the sides of his face, bringing his eyes to hers.

The question in her eyes reached him. Hips still pistoning, he nodded.

"Please, I want to."

"Then take what you want." She gasped out, leading his head down.

He dove on her breast, licking her hard tip into his warm mouth.

"Fuck," She hissed, back arching.

She tried to reach for his sleep pants but his hand caught her wrist, forcing it above her head.

Pushing her underclothes down her hips, he rubbed hard against her clit. Blurring his hand.

Choking out a moan, she writhed helplessly. His body keeping her pinned and open. Splayed fully against him.

His mouth switched sides, taking up her soft untouched breast. The slurping suckle his tongue pulled against her peak making her mewl.

"Please, Gale. Inside." She pleaded, bucking her hips as much as his hold would allow.

He pushed two fingers inside her, moan muffled against her flesh.

"You're so wet," He groaned.

"You. All you." She moaned, sentences and their structures utterly lost.

But those words must have been more than enough. His fingers began slamming inside her, hooking towards her navel.

Her head fell back, gripping his head to her breast. The force of his fingers rocking her back and forth.

He was the tide and she a ship, unanchored and tossing through the waves.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She whined as the pressure in her pelvis tilted up, threatening collapse.

He pulled her engorged peak between his teeth and she was thrown overboard.

Her legs arched up, clamping around his hips. Back bending, the force of the pleasure striking through her was near agony. Completely stealing her voice away, only gasping out choking silent cries. The herbs making her reach new heights, unwinding like a tapestry pulled. Clenching hard enough around his fingers to make him groan.

She collapsed under him, head lolling. Eyes glazed and rolling.

He pulled his fingers from her, licking them clean. Leaning down to nuzzle into her neck, his beard tickling her.

"You didn't-" She started weakly.

"With the state of the orb, I think it's in all of our best interests if I obstained."

"Besides," He hummed, kissing under her jaw. "Your pleasure has more than sustained me."

"Though I am curious, what brought on this most welcome intrusion?"

She hesitated. Not wanting another person, especially him, who has so much to hurdle over already, to worry about her.

"It's this... pain I have. I found some soothing herbs and they helped. A lot actually. But with other effects."

She pulled the small jar from her strewn trousers, handing it to him.

Immediately he flipped it over to examine the bottom, and she groaned in embarrassment.

"See, that's exactly what I didn't do."

Grabbing for her shirt she instead landed on his, pulling it over her head.

He smiled at her, eyes lit up with appreciative glint.

"Ah, of course it looks better on you."

"Cozy." She sighed, the velvet material warming her through. Sleeves swallowing her hands.

He reached inside her pocket and retrieved the pipe, sparking up his fingers and bringing it to his lips.

Seeing her shock, he smiled.

"You're not the only one fighting pain." He knocked his knuckles on the burned circle in his chest.

"Besides, you seemed to be in a peaceful state. I'd like to meet you there, if you'd allow me."

"Deal." She smiled, sliding on knees to sidle up close to him again. "But only if you let me stay the night."

"Oh, you drive a hard bargain." He smiled at her, scrunching up his nose in that playful way that made her heart gallop.

As soon as he breathed in, she held his chin in her fingers. Pulling his mouth to hers, breathing in the smoke as it left him.

Starting to relax, he pulled her down with him. Sighing contently as she snuggled into him.

"Oh, careful. I could get very used to this."

~

[bobcatmoran]

So with Tim Walz, governor of my home state, as the VP nominee (and news stories about him/Minnesota coming out of the woodwork) here's some stuff that will probably be helpful to know over the next 3 months:

The Minnesota Democratic party is, due to a 1944 party merger with the local Farmer-Labor party, the Democratic-Farmer-Labor party, or DFL for short. Local media refers to them as such.

Speaking of local media, we have two major local newspapers: the Star Tribune out of Minneapolis (Strib for short) and the somewhat smaller Pioneer Press out of St. Paul.

Minneapolis and St. Paul are the Twin Cities. They're next to each other, but woe betide you if you mistake one for the other. Minneapolis is the larger of the two, with the more vibrant nightlife and history as a flour milling hub, while St. Paul is the state capital, home to lots of liberal arts colleges and a significant Asian-American population, mostly the Karen ethnic group from Myanmar and Hmong.

Other reputable local news sources include MinnPost (online indie news site), the Minnesota Reformer (unashamedly leftist and pro-union), and Sahan Journal (focused on stories affecting the local immigrant and minority communities). We also have Minnesota Public Radio, or MPR for short, one of the largest NPR affiliates in the nation with a pretty solid local news arm. Bring Me the News is rarely a source of breaking news, but what they do report on is solid.

Alpha News is not a reputable local news source. They're far right wing and have a *cough* casual relation with reporting on actual events.

About 1% of Minnesota's population are Somali/Somali-Americans, concentrated in Minneapolis, especially the Cedar-Riverside neighborhood. They're a major target of local racism and Islamophobia, by conservative assholes. The nonsense rumor over Minnesota's new flag being based on the Somali flag (because…uh…blue? and star?) stems from that particular local brand of xenophobia.

It's "Hot Dish." "Casserole" is the name of the type of cooking utensil you make Hot Dish in.

[sunflowersunrisescorner]

HorrorFarm ShipKid!

Character sheet/artwork by the super talented @radicalrainbow who, YES, is accepting commissions!! Their art is going to be a staple here for my projects, but you can always head over to their site and ask for your very own!

Now, let's get down to business.

Say hello to Dionaea! 👋

Daughter of Horror and Farm she lives off the back-roads surrounded by fields, forests, and creakbeds! She ain't afraid to get down and dirty and enjoys rangeling hogs, climbing trees, and fishin' by the riverside! But that's just basic knowledge - let's get to know her more personally!

-Dionaea stands at 4 feet 11 inches off the ground and weighs approximately 130 pounds (with ecto). She has a "pet" venus flytrap named Whiskers, which Horror and Farm find especially amusing as "Dionaea Muscipula" is the scientific term for a fly-trap, and where her name originated from.

-She helps her father's work on the farm even though it's not a must. Working with the animals makes up her favorite tasks while pulling weeds and slashing is her least.

-Dionaea has trypophobia (a fear of holes) and apiphobia (a fear of bees).

-She is currently in a relationship with HotRod. ( @radicalrainbow ship kid with Fresh x Greaser) The two are opposites that attract, and albeit Dionaea's head over heels for the other, Horror and Farm don't quite see the appeal...

-Dionaea was born with frail bones and, as such, has limited magic and has suffered multiple injuries to her person. The most notable of these is located on her arm and face.

-Dionaea dabbles in witchcraft, with her main deity being Gaia (the goddess of the earth). She reads tarot cards, has a book of shadows, presses herbs and flowers, and collects/works with crystals and other natural items that come from the earth (including shells, acorns, animal bones, etc.).

This character is still a work in progress, so more information to come as ideas flow in! In the meantime, asks are open for Dionaea for those interested! Thank you! 😊

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Bikes and Bees 🐝

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Inspire by THIS post of mine and the picture I took at the Riverside Museum in Glasgow <3

It's the 50s, the weather is a dream, and your lover just returned from a short deployment. How to spend your time better than to explore the countryside and have a little rendezvous underneath a tree?

《Content》: NSFW. proceed with caution. cowgirl, PiV, creampie. It's so corny and cute and disgustingly sweet but I love it so much 🥹

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The soft tunes of the little radio that stood on your bedside table carried through your room like clouds, gently bouncing off the walls. You hummed along to the melody as you sat in front of your vanity, running the bristles of the brush through your hair.

Amongst the many cosmetic items that were splayed out on your desk such as compacts, lipsticks and a nearly empty cake mascara was a messy stack of handwritten letters.

The sight made you smile as you put down your hairbrush and picked up one of the papers, ghosting your fingertips over the handwriting that you knew by heart.

They were all from Johnny, some from when he was on deployment and others just because. They always had a little doodle by his name, ranging from a little elephant holding a flower with its trunk to small landscapes he had seen. You wanted to frame all of them and plaster them on every empty spot on your walls.

You wanted to be engulfed by the beauty of his mind.

A dreamy sigh slipped past your lips when you were reminded once again how hopelessly in love you were.

Johnny had promised to take you out today, show you the lovely and lesser known spots of the countryside.

He'd been on a short deployment, and although he returned a couple of days ago, you hadn't found the time to spend time together yet.

A knock on your front door echoed up the stairs, and with a quick and precise swipe of Johnny's favorite lipstick, you were rushing downstairs, lacy gloves in hand.

The weather was perfect. It was sunny but not too hot and there was a gentle summer breeze raking through the flowers in your garden.

You smoothed down your dress one more time before grabbing your purse and opening the door.

Your heart beat faster when you saw Johnny waiting with a soft smile on his handsome face.

"Johnny!" You exclaimed, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

"Oh, bonnie... ma bonnie lass.." he chuckled, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, one of his hands snaking up your back to form a steady presence between your shoulder blades.

"I'm so glad you're back." You sighed, your forehead resting against his shoulder.

He hummed and pressed his lips against your temple before gently pulling your face away from his shoulder with his hand cupping your cheek.

"Le' me get a good look at ya." He smiled, your round cheeks molding perfectly into his palm.

"Ye get prettier everytime Ah get back." Johnny said quietly, stroking his calloused thumb over your cheekbone.

"And you're still as charming as ever, hm?" You smiled, placing your hand over his and slightly pulling him down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

When you pulled back, a giggle escaped you and you covered your mouth with your hand.

Johnny raised a brow at you.

"What's so funny, hen?" He asked, a smirk tugging at his lips while he tilted his head to the side.

As silly as he looked with a bright lipstick mark plastered on his face, the sight made your heart swell with adoration.

"Oh, nothing. I'll get it for you, my love." You giggled softly.

Reaching into your purse, you pulled out a handkerchief with a little thistle embroidered on the corner before swiping it over your tongue and rubbing at the stain on Johnny's face.

He leaned into your touch when you gently held his face.

"Good as new." You placed a chaste peck to his lips so you wouldn't leave any more marks.

Johnny hummed with a smile before taking your hand and guiding it to his lips for a kiss to your knuckles.

"Ah can always count on ya tae take care o' me."

You smiled in response, dragging the back of your knuckles down the length of his cheek.

"I'm just returning the favor."

He chuckled and wrapped you up in his arms, peppering kisses all over your face, wherever he could reach.

You squealed and tried to flee from the rough scratch of his stubble.

"Johnny- stop!" You laughed, using all your might to try and get him off of you, the hair on his face tickling your skin.

"Cannae Ah appreciate ma bonnie lady?" He asked in between kisses, his lips curling up into a smile when he pulled away from you, his thumb stroking the soft line of your jaw.

"I didn't say that, but you promised to show me all the beautiful spots in the deep countryside! You spoke of streams, endless meadows of blooming flowers, thick forests- can you blame a girl for being a little impatient?" A small pout on your colored lips.

A sight that made Johnny both want to coo at you and pinch your cheeks and kiss you until you were breathless, gasping for air.

"Ah suppose not. Shall we?" He held out his hand for you to take, a real gentleman as always.

With a firm grip around your hand, he led you down the path from your front door, all the way to the gate of your fence.

Your bike rested against the white wood and you slipped on your gloves that were previously secured to your purse with a shining glove clip.

"After you." Johnny grinned, holding open the gate for you with a dramatic gesture of his hand.

"How very kind of you." You giggled in reply, putting an equally theatrical tone to your voice as you pushed your bike through.

Your eyes landed on the brand new bike Johnny had gotten, the paint glistening in the sun. With a smooth leather seat, matching handles and a sturdy frame.

A whistle escaped your lips on which then a grin appeared as you eyed the cycle that rested against the outside of your wooden fence.

"Nice ride, sweetheart." You smiled, watching as a proud grin stretched over his cheeks.

"A beaut, ain't she? 'The flying Scot'. Much better than tha' Chevrolet yer snob of a neighbor has." His grin only widened when you laughed, a sound that he wished he could put on a vinyl record and play on loop forever.

"Let's see how well you can fly, then." You challenged, swinging yourself on your bike, adjusting your skirt and dropping your purse in the small weaved basket attached to the front.

Your polished shoes were moving the pedals before Johnny even had a chance to answer, and with a shout of your name and a hearty laugh he, too, got his wheels in motion and raced after you.

You rode down the lane where your house stood, past all the well-kept gardens of your neighbors and the short cobblestone wall that guarded a line of big trees. Behind them were endless fields of green with a few splotches of color sprinkled throughout.

Sometimes you could spot a cow or a handful of sheep that grazed peacefully in the warm sun. Johnny had caught up with you and was cycling beside you at a comfortable pace.

You laughed and talked, still being mindful enough to not fall or accidentally pummel someone into the ground. The strong breeze combed through your hair that you'd set into bouncing curls the night before.

He reached out for you hand, patiently waiting as you shifted your weight on the bike and tightly clasped his hand in yours.

The calloused pad of his thumb rubbed over your lace covered knuckles subconsciously, a gesture that never failed to make your heart swell. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he signaled you to slow down, letting the momentum of the bike do the remainder of the work before coming to a stop.

"Here we are." Johnny announced, swinging his leg over the frame of his bike and resting it against the continous cobblestone wall.

He helped you get off your own cycle, steadying you with a firm grip on your forearm and positioning your bike to lean on his.

You snatched your purse from your basket, giving it a place in the crook of your elbow as you admired the beautiful scene before you.

A field with clusters of color, all shades of the rainbow. In the middle stood a mighty tree, it's majestic canopy of leaves leaving a ring of shadow around the base of the strong trunk. On the edge of your vision, you could see a small stream pulling a line through the landscape, the water glittering like diamonds as the sun fell upon it.

On the other side of the stream began a thick forest, many hues of rich green and brown harmonizing in a way that would make any artists heart melt.

While you admired the beauty of nature, Johnny was busy admiring you.

The way your eyes sparkled when you took in the sight in front of you.

Or how your plush, painted lips were pulled into a sweet smile.

He couldn't help the soft smile of his own as he leaned against the stone barrier with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"It's so beautiful, Johnny. It.. it feels like it belongs in a painting." You chuckled softly, turning your torso in his direction.

He only hummed and took your hand in his once again, a thing he'd grown to miss when he was away from you.

"So do you."

The confession was a soft melody between the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. It was so raw and sincere, so vulnerable, as if it had fought its way from the bottom of his heart all the way up his throat and past his lips.

A flustered smile sat on your cheeks as you felt warmth bloom in your chest and stunning butterflies emerge from their cocoons in the pit of your stomach.

"Only if you join me."

The reply hadn't been what he expected, but it didn't fail to cement your place in his heart, his very soul, even more. He huffed, soft and nasal, before pulling you against him with a steady hand on your back.

"Always." He whispered, a sacred truth only meant for the both of you.

The wide smile on your face melted into the kiss as he pressed his lips to yours. He held you so gently, so carefully, as if you were made of porcelain, a precious doll he'd keep close to his chest.

Johnny leaned into the touch of your bare hand on his cheek when it migrated from his arm all the way to his face. Your gloves were back in their rightful place secured in the glove clip on your purse. He pulled away, although reluctantly, and placed his forehead against yours, taking in the closeness.

He could smell your perfume and your setting mousse, feel your soft breaths on his face and the steady, calm beat of your heart.

"I love you." He said quietly, so quietly, in fact, it would stay between the vicinity of your hearts.

"I love you too." You replied softly.

Neither of you wanted to leave this embrace, but there was so much to explore on the other side of the cobblestone wall.

"Come on; Ah promised ya an adventure, no?" The softness lingered even has his signature grin broke out onto his face.

Before you could respond, you where whisked away with a tug at your hand.

Johnny watched as you were on your knees at the shore of the little river, searching for pretty rocks to add to your collection. He'd started to call you his little Magpie, and even though you huffed and pouted at the nickname, you found it quite endearing. You didn't care about grass stains or how the pebbles dug into the skin of your knees and would leave indents in their wake.

You watched him when he bent down to pluck a bright poppy from the selection of wildflowers. He tucked it behind your ear and swiped his thumb over your cheekbone with a smile. To him, you were the prettiest flower of them all.

You brushed the wooden chips off his shoulders after he'd carved your initials into the big tree you'd previously admired from afar, surrounded by a choppy heart that would tell the tale of your love for centuries.

So here you sat, beneath the carving, shielded by the leaves with your head resting on his shoulder. Your fingers were intertwined as you soaked in the loving atmosphere and the warming sun.

You were in the shade, but the warmth carried itself all the way beneath the tree's canopy. Johnny fiddled with your fingers, tracing every knuckle then smoothing down the back of your hand. His caresses moved to your wrist, up your forearm before he pulled you into his lap.

You only giggled in response, raking your fingers through his hair. They settled at the base of his skull, pressing into the muscle with your thumb.

He groaned in appreciation and dragged you against his chest.

"Need something, handsome?" You smirked, watching has his brows furrowed and he mumbled something into your hair.

"Jus' need tae have ya close.."

You hummed, resting your cheek on his shoulder. His arms were wound around your middle, keeping you pressed against him. You enjoyed the moment, letting your eyes fall shut.

You ignored it when his hand moved to your hip and gave it a gentle squeeze. You even let it slide when it trailed down to your thigh. But your eyes snapped open when they brushed the inside of your thigh and pressed against the gusset of your panties.

"Johnny, what are you doing?" You asked frantically, tightly gripping his wrist.

"What do you think, hm?" He smirked.

Your lips parted and you had a bewildered expression on your face.

"You can't be serious. Not here!"

"No one's around, mo leannan." He replied gently, grinning slightly when your grip on his wrist loosened.

Your brows furrowed in worry.

"What if-"

"Shh. Just enjoy it." Johnny cooed, pressing forward until his thumb was stroking over your clothed folds.

You sighed softly at the sensation. He added more pressure to your clit and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from making any noise.

"That's it, bonnie." He said softly, a wet patch forming underneath his thumb.

Soft and breathy moans slipped past your lips and you began rocking your hips against his hand.

"Johnny..." You breathed, finding his lips in a feverish kiss while he quickly unbuckled his belt.

Your hands were in his hair and when he'd freed his throbbing cock, he slid your panties to the side and rubbed the tip of his lenght through your wet slit, earning a mewl from you.

"Can I?" He asked, breathless and desperate.

"Yes." You nodded swiftly, helping him lift you up so you could sink down on him.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and a moan got caught in your throat when he was nestled all the way inside of you. Johnny groaned, a bruising grip on your hips as he began moving you up and down, back and forth on his cock.

"Oh god-" You cried, tugging at his messy locks to connect your lips in another kiss.

Your lipstick was smeared, no doubt, but you couldn't care about that when Johnny was kissing your breath away, slipping his tongue past the seam of your lips, and hitting that spot inside you so perfectly.

You'd been away from each other for a while, a while that felt like an eternity to you. The symphonies of your shared bliss echoed through the air as you bounced on his lap, chasing that sweet release only he could give you.

"Look at ya. So fuckin' pretty." He moaned, your velvet walls squeezing him so nicely.

One of his hands found its way underneath your skirt and rubbed at your puffy clit, an action that ripped a sound from your throat that could only be described as obscene.

"Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.." you begged, coming closer to the edge of your release.

Johnny obliged your wish and smashed his lips to yours, practically devouring you as you rode him. He fucked up into you in sloppy thrusts, signaling he was close as well.

You held onto him tightly when the perfect nudge of his cock and swipe over your clit shattered your resolve and you pulsed around him with a strangled sound that he greedily swallowed up. With a last few hard thrusts, he spilled inside of you, moaning into your mouth as you milked him dry.

You pulled away from the kiss with a heaving chest, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders before you slumped against his chest with a chuckle.

"Steamin' Jesus..." Johnny panted, holding you tight to his chest.

"You can say that again." You smirked.

He chuckled, pressing a loving kiss to your temple. You rested against each other, catching your breath.

When you sat back up with a soft whimper no less and looked at him, you broke into laughter. He looked at you with a quizzical expression on his face.

"What're ya laughin' about?"

"Oh, nothing." You wiped tears from your lashline before placing a peck to his lips.

He was covered in lipstick marks, his lips stained with the color.

It would take more than a little spit and a handkerchief to fix this.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Let me know if you liked 50s!Johnny!!

More of my CoD and other works -> 💫

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Please excuse any typos, it is 2 am 🥲