#too. and people LIVE here every day!!!!! there’s a big beautiful world here both above ground and below!!!! and im gonna be late to

[pepprs]

last few hours in boston :(

[silverryu25]

day 5; constellation of stars

“Have you forgotten how it all ended last time?”

;3 💖💖💖💖

Ohhhh yes~ >:3

Some nice star time for our favourite skele. Hope you enjoy it Kiran!! X3

DAY 5 - Constellation or stars + “Have you forgotten how it all ended last time?”

Tags: suggestive ending

--------------------------

Stars, the one thing that had always drawn him like a moth to a flame.

A big part of his life was spent daydreaming about the possibility of ever even catching a glimpse of the real stars as he played around with the star-like gems in the caves of Waterfall. The gems were beautiful in their own way, but they couldn’t even be called a pale imitation of the real thing. The first time he saw the night sky as the sun set right after they finally stepped on the surface he felt his soul leap in pure wonder.

It was a sight he never could have imagine.

A sight that he never believed he would live to see.

Yet there he was, eyelights gazing at an endless expanse of the Milky Way. Millions upon billions of stars sparkling so much more beautifully then any Waterfall gem ever could.

It was a sight that he would never forget.

It was the second brightest day in his life. The first one being the moment Papyrus was born.

He thought it would remain that way forever, that nothing could ever outshine the beauty and magnificence of the uncountable constellations and stars his very soul sang to him about in his dreams.

Yet, somehow, he was wrong.

Because here he was, sitting below the clear night sky. No clouds, moon or city lights to obscure the majesty of everything the naked eye could see for millions and billions miles in every direcion he turned. But instead of feeling his soul pound in joy and excitement at the vastness above him, his gaze was transfixed besides him. 

At a fellow skeleton monster that somehow took up presence inside his whole soul.

Sans’ white eyelights shone with a soft glow as his soul beat faster every time Red’s eyelights sparkled as he identified another constellation.

They had planned this trip for months, ever since Red’s people came to the surface. They had a hard time integrating in the peaceful world that awaited them outside of their underground so they needed a lot of help.

It was unanimously decided by the two monster kings that every monster would live with their counterpart until they found their footing and could start life on their own. But somehow, instead of leaving when he got a good and stable job, Red stayed with Sans and slowly, their relationship deepend.

It took a long time for them to actually confess to each other. A drunken pun fight led to something more and ended up with them confessing before their brains really caught up with what they were even saying. After that, well let’s just say things turned steamy and puns went down south real fast~.

It’s been months since then. They were both busy with work and helping out with ambassador activities that their brothers organized for both Frisks. Finally, after months of planning and postponing, they got away together for a fun stargazing camping trip. A perfect combination of a shared love of stars and lazing around doing nothing.

But instead of looking at the stars, Sans’ gaze was glued to Red.

He just couldn’t stop marveling at how lucky he got. How life actually gave him something to love this deeply and freely. It was so atypical of him, so out of character that even he was shocked when he first realized what Red actually meant to him. But slowly, he came to accept those feelings and even shared them with Red little by little.

It was a bonus that any mention of love made Red turn his namesake. It was honestly too adorable and fun to tease Red every time he could.

He was so lost in thoughts that he missed something Red told him.

“hmmm?” Sans blinked his eyelights as he tried to focus on here and now.

“wha’s wron’ sweetheart?” Red flashed a smirk his way. “head full’a stars?”

“*snort*, there’s only one star bright enough for me, red.” Sans purred as his half-lidded gaze stared back at Red. Sans’ smile spread even wider as a soft crimson blush spread over Red’s cheekbones.

“stars dammit! dat was so corny! one star!” Red turned away to hide his obvious blush, as if that was possible in the dark while they were so close.

“aw, don’t be like that red. i’m staring to think you don’t love me anymore.”

“hardy har har. yer just pullin’ on my starstrings an’ ya know it.”

“what can i do, you are the star of my show.”

With a groan Red just turned back and deadpanned at Sans, making him chuckle. Red was the best.

Before Red could snark back anymore Sans leaned forward and kissed him. Their magic sparked as their tongues intertwined, the heat of their breaths a stark contrast with cool night air. They continued kissing until they both ran our of breath, leaning their foreheads together as they stared at each others eyelights. Bright white and red stars of their own.

“ya better stop dere sweetheart if ya don’ wan’ me ta jump yer bones.”

“heh, who says i don’t want you to?”

“but…” Red’ eyelights darted to the side, almost like he wanted to look around for something or someone. “hav’ ya forgo’en how it all end’d last time?”

“...” Sans lazily smiled and gave Red a chaste kiss on the teeth. “i’m not that easily startled out of trying again. are you?”

--------------------------

The end UwU

Hope you like the value ending XD

If you’re wondering what happened last time they tired having some fun time in an open space… well it was a bit of an embarrassing mess ;P

Will they have more luck this time…………… I’ll let you guess >:3c

[popcornforone]

Bromance or Romance Part 2

A Dieter Bravo Fic

Day 6 of Pedrotober

Masterlist

Part 1

So you were all intrigued by the Bromance fox earlier in the month, which I used Dieter for. So now we are leaping back into that story, so see what our favourite Trashpanda is up to to.

Synopsis:- You finally have Dieter alone after his big awards win & no longer have to be professional.

Word count:- 800

Warnings over & above:- PIV sex, rough sex, both a little intoxicated, swearing, Dieter just being a sexy menace.

I think you will all get a part 3 too now peoples. Hope you are enjoying this. Thanks as always @alyssamariag & @norththelemon for the prompt.

After the worlds press have spoken to Dieter & the after party has happened, lots of tequila was drunk, you head back to the hotel room, the lift is filled with moans. Dieter finally has you all to himself & he’s not waisting any time. He pushes against you. His hair is longer at the moment for the job he is working on. You love to run your fingers through it when it’s just fluffy but right now it’s giving you life. The way his lips are hungry for more doesn’t bother you. Youd easily hit the emergency button for the two of you to get freaky in the lift but with the paparazzi outside, youd make even more headlines. Dieter & the entertainment reporter dating is already a scoop that the world can’t get enough of, let alone that your not just a one night stand to him.

Dieter struggles to find his room key in all the excitement & you eventually swipe yours, your hands had been to preoccupied with trying to undo the buttons on his shirt desperate for access to your man’s skin. You push him out of the way for a few seconds to get into the room, before you both fall through the door, a crumpled heap on the floor, but somehow he still manages to lock his lips with yours. He kicks the door shut behind him & keeps you on your belly.

“Fuck Dieter” you grown his erection through his trousers almost imprinted on your back.

“You’re my prize baby” he growls. You hear the clink of his belt behind you before his hands go under your dress & roll down your panties. You automatically raise your arse & lift your body onto your elbows.

“All for you my man, it’s all yours” the zipper noise echos in a room full of hot panting already. The man needs no lube. In he slots, one long deep thrust, as you clamp around him & grab the carpet & gasp. You cunt ready to explode in seconds.

“Fuck yes Dieter oooohhh yesssss”

“Fuck yes baby” he smacks your arse & makes sure you give him a thumbs up as you whine as his rhythm starts. He’s blistering, each time almost completely pulling out as it’s a slow drag out, enjoying every sensation before a sharp jolting thrust back in. Hitting that special spot, each time you moan him name.

“Dieter please”

“Say it again baby” another thrust.

“Dieters more” a firm hand hits your arse again.

“Beg”

“Please baby don’t stop” you reply to his firm command.

“That’s my girl” & he flips you over onto your back on the floor before inserting his length again & watches how well your cunt takes him. “So fucking tight, a pussy from heaven” he growls & he moves faster. You now grip at pull at his sweat stained shirt, drops coming off that long hair splashing sweat on you, as your sodden entrance keeps accepting his girth. It feels magnificent. You matching his moves, getting him as deep as possible, passionate & sensual as you let him fuck you.

“Fuck dieter, oooh baby I cant hold on”

“Let go beautiful, I…oooh fuck” you will never what he was gonna say. Your cunt has him in a vice grip as you cum & almost tare his designer shirt. Eyes roll into the back of your head as you scream in pleasure. It’s only muffled as he cums 3 thrusts later filling you up. You both continue to rock & hold each other. Both sodden in so many ways. Both fully on a high, both living through ecstasy. You kiss him. He stinks of him, sex, booze, sweat, weed & you. He smirks as he softly opens his eyes ones he’s back in the here & now.

“& to think I asked for this room for that bed” he says. His big brown eyes dancing enticing you for more.

“Well who says I’m done with you yet mr Bravo” you say & lick you lip & shimmy out underneath him & slowly, step out of your dress & sit on the bed waiting for him, legs open waiting for him as you take off your bra so your completely exposed.

He stands up & lets his trousers & boxers fall to the floor, still fully erect as he unbuttons enough of his shirt to take it off over his head.

“Hmmm that’s my girl” he pounced & it’s not soon before that massive bed is used for a night of pleasure. Your man is now seen as the best at awards season, but he’s always been the best sex of your life.

Part 3

[noodyl-blasstal]

Living Well is Super Swell - Best Served Cold Chapter 7

It's day 7 of @tazsapphicweek and that means it's the final chapter of Best Served Cold. Prepare yourselves for some fluff!

Read below or on Ao3. Missed the start? Here's ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, and ch 6.

-

“Surprise!” They shout as Raven gently removes the blindfold from Istus.

Obviously Raven has already pre-prepared her, Istus likes to know what’s coming, but she still thinks it’s very sweet that they wanted to surprise her.

“Oh… oh goodness!” Despite the warning she’s still surprised by the amount of people here to join them. There’s the usual, wonderful suspects of course; but there’s also customers, people from the community projects, and the other shops too. Well, most of them, one pair of proprietors are conspicuously absent.

Istus doesn’t try and hide her joyful tears, why should she? “You’re all so wonderful!” She chokes out. “Thank you.”

Raven presses a handkerchief into her hand. “Here you are. Are you okay?”

Istus nods and leans into Raven’s side, her presence a constant source of comfort. Istus is fairly sure she could face the end of the world with her and feel a sense of peace.

“There’s one more surprise!” Carey shouts as she runs towards them and barrels into Istus’ open arms.

“Is it this hug?” Istus asks.

Killian laughs as she approaches, guiding a man wearing all black, gravity defying platform boots, and a fantastic amount of spider themed jewellery. “ No, Istus. It’s not the hug.” She gestures at the man with her. “This is Brian, he’s a photographer.”

“Hello darlings.” Brian says pleasantly. “This is going to be a lovely little photoshoot isn’t it?”

“Come on!” Carey wriggles free and drags Istus towards the benches.

Istus automatically sticks her hand out to grab Raven’s and tugs her along behind them, laughing all the way.

“Is this why you told me to dress in something I loved?” She asks over her shoulder, Carey an unstoppable force in front of her.

“Nope, this one was all them, I just wanted you to be comfortable.” Raven looks perplexed, but happy enough.

Hopefully she’s okay, she’s not always big on unexpected plans. Istus squeezes her hand, hoping to beam some comfort to her.

“Here you go! Get on the table.” Carey shoos them towards one of the bench seats. It’s Istus’ favourite, dark blue with silvery stars and lots of sparkly bits.

“I have a vision, we’re here to celebrate the tables, to celebrate you. I want to feel the joy! Feel the love!” Brian starts to back away, releasing his camera from a complex series of straps as he does.

“He’s really good, I promise.” Killian stage whispers.

“Madame?” Raven offers her arm. “May I help you onto this beautiful picnic bench?”

“Oh you’re too kind.” Istus says conversationally. “It is beautiful though, isn’t it? It has to be, I painted for a beautiful woman, I think of her every time I see it.” Istus takes Raven’s hand and pushes herself up onto the table, using the bench as a footrest. “If you come up here and join me I’ll let you in on a secret.”

Raven laughs and takes the hand Istus offers to help pull her up. She wobbles slightly, but Istus has her, and Raven flops successfully down next to her.

Istus leans in to whisper in her ear. “I put this one here so I can see it from the counter. Then I can think about you all day long.”

Raven turns, laughing, and kisses her quickly.

“You’re perfect.” Raven says against her lips.

“I’m not.” Istus won’t have any of that.

“You’re perfect for me.” Raven amends.

Istus can’t argue with that, so she kisses her back instead.

–

Are they ever going to stop?” Sloane asks Hurley.

The claps and cheers have settled into a slightly awkward slow clap.

“No.” Hurley replies. “But that’s why we’ve got Carey.”

She gives the nod.

Carey aims the hose very carefully and mists the air above Istus and Raven. It’s enough to shake them out of it.

“Sorry everybody!” Istus looks slightly shame faced.

“I’m not!” Raven shouts.

Istus leans in and whispers something to her, they both laugh.

“Right, who’d like some refreshments? I’m sure I have some cake out the back and…”

Istus’ musing is interrupted by Killian, who gently picks her up from the table and places her back on the ground, then holds an arm out for Raven. (Who doesn’t get the same joy out of being zooped through the air as Istus.)

There’s ice cream, there’s cake, there’s biscuits, and there’s so much joy. It’s a perfect celebration.

–

In the aftermath, they lounge around the kitschy counter in the shop.

“Thank you all.” Istus says, grabbing her trusty scoop. “Now who wants what?”

“We should celebrate your tables more often, this was fun.” Killian says. “My usual please, Istus.” She adds.

Istus scoops diligently and hands it over, sticking a flake in the precarious mountain of ice cream (so maybe she’s overserving today, maybe they deserve it.)

“Thank you!” Killian looks positively delighted.

“Dealer’s choice.” Says Sloane. “I trust you.”

“So you should.” Istus starts working on Sloane’s mystery cone. “Afterall, look how things worked out!” Istus smiles happily.

“What…er, what do you mean sorry?” Carey’s the one who breaks the moment of tense silence.

“Well, just like I told you girls, the best revenge is living well!” Istus adds another scoop to Sloane’s already precarious ice cream. “There’s no need for extreme action, everyone will get their comeuppance.” Istus smiles and hands the cone over. “Who’s next?”

“You’re so right.” Hurley says quickly.

“So right.” Echoes Raven, who definitely looks twitchy.

Sloane just clears her throat.

Istus adores them all.

–

“Istus! The photos are here! They put them on a stick!” Raven grabs it from the envelope and cracks open her new laptop. Well, her ‘new to her’ laptop, Kravitz said it would be faster than the computer and if she liked it they could pick out an actual new one together.

“Oooooh! That was quick!” Istus turns from the hob. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Raven plugs the stick in on the third try and clicks her way through to the folder. She doesn’t start without Istus though, it wouldn’t be right.

“Okay. Coffee for you, tea for me.” Istus sets the mugs down. “And a scone because you deserve a treat.” She places the plate to Raven’s side, kisses her on the cheek, and settles in the chair. “Okay, ready!”

Raven clicks twice and opens up magic.

“Oh.” They say together.

Istus and Raven are at the centre of the frame on the bench made of silvery stars in an inky blue evening sky. They’re completely wrapped up in each other, no attention paid to the camera. Raven clicks the next one and the setting is the same but now they’re laughing, then they’re kissing, then the camera has pulled back and Hurley and Sloane and Carey and Killian are on their own benches respectively and their friends and customers are in the background and it’s perfect. Picture perfect.

Raven arranges for two prints and is delighted by how fast they arrive. There’s one of them kissing, still laughing, radiating joy. It goes up in the lounge so she can look at it every day. The second one, though, the second one brings her joy in a different way. There’s a whole crowd of people around them as they wave from their tables, friends and colleagues and customers. But in the back, easily missable if you don’t know they’re there, are two twin faces etched in sour disappointment. Raven loves that they captured victory and defeat all in one shot.

–

In a dark shop, lights switched off so no one feels emboldened to come by and make yet another ridiculous complaint, Edward sniffs the air and wrinkles his nose. “Lydia? Why does it smell like fish?”

[suzannetownsend]

Apes in the Glades: a divisive Florida mystery

OCHOPEE – The drone of cicadas, the flat river of grass and gators lurking by the roadside, only their eyes visible above the black water: this is the Florida Everglades. It is a region that has long been imbued with fascinating history both haunting and beautiful, from being the location of marijuana smuggling routes (or as the locals call it, square grouper) and a hiding spot for killers on the run. But deep in the swamp lurks another source of intrigue: the skunk ape. 

Also known as Florida’s Bigfoot, the hairy biped has been a lifelong pursuit of Ochopee, Florida local David Shealy. He describes the skunk ape as being between six and seven feet tall, covered in hair and incredibly smelly. Since spotting the creature near his home at the northern end of Everglades National Park at age 10, Shealy has made it his life’s work to find this elusive character. He has reported other sightings since then, once in 1998 and most famously in 2001 when he recorded video footage of the creature trudging through the swamp, which is available on YouTube. 

Shealy is the founder of the Skunk Ape Research Headquarters in Ochopee. It’s one of several of Tamiami Trail’s roadside attractions (including the world’s smallest post office) and includes a campground, collection of live pythons and alligators, a gift shop and plans to expand. The building also houses Shealy’s two casts of skunk ape tracks. In 2000 he even applied for a grant from the Collier County Tourism Development Council, which was denied. 

Sightings of skunk apes have been reported since the 1950s and ‘60s. One discrepancy, however, is that the native Seminole and Miccosukee tribes have a legend of the skunk ape in their culture, too. For clarity, the tribes are separate politically but not culturally, according to the Seminole Tribe of Florida. Tara Backhouse, the collections manager at the Seminole Ah-Tah-Thi-Ki Museum said in an email that, “there’s definitely not anything written down, and I don’t believe it’s a real Seminole legend in any way.” Shealy says something different: “That’s not the case at all and I grew up here with the Indians.” Indeed, Shealy's property is not far from the Miccosukee reservation. He recounted a story that Miccosukee tribal member Michael Frank told him about a time during the Seminole Wars. “At that time an Indian scout left the village and went into the Everglades, and he returned with a story that he had seen a group of men that were very large and covered with hair.” Shealy says there are as many as nine skunk apes in the Everglades. According to him they smell because they spend time in alligator holes, and they make a low bassy cooing growl. When he performs the skunk ape call, it sounds a lot like an alligator bellow. Shealy has a response for that, too. “I have big alligators that roar every time the garbage truck comes in so I know gators really good and it's not a gator.” 

So did Shealy make it all up? Some locals think so. The picture that many residents of the nearby Everglades City paint is that Shealy simply wanted to make more money. Some call him a fraud, some call him a scientific researcher. When I met him, though, the first thing I understood about David Shealy is that he is a storyteller. He has many tales of encounters with Florida's bigfoot, some his and some from other people, but all of them captivating. He spoke of a time when he collected a hair sample from one encounter but the next day two unidentified federal agents, “The men in black” as Shealy calls them, who came to his home and confiscated the sample, never to be heard from again. In another story a woman named Mary Billie was chopping down palm fronds for a chickee hut. As she was hacking at the fronds one fell away and she was face to face with the skunk ape. 

Despite the chorus of skunk ape deniers, there are others who support Shealy’s work. Brad Bertelli is the author of The Florida Keys Skunk Ape Files, which is a work of fiction based on real reports of encounters with the cryptid. Included in the book is a real clipping from an 1874 newspaper that reads, “Key West has a ghost covered with hair and about the size of a horse.” Bertelli says, “It reads to me like a typical skunk ape or bigfoot sighting.” And one of the earliest reports of such. Another story that inspired his book is a family on Key Largo who witnessed a smelly hairy creature on their property, which frightened them so much they moved out of the Keys entirely. 

Both skunk ape aficionados have responses for the nonbelievers. Shealy says, “It’s not a good attitude to have because what they are doing is possibly putting a threatened or endangered species at risk and that they really need to do their research, possibly go out on their own. Just discounting it is doing an injustice to our native wildlife.” For Bertelli, “A lot of it has to do with not being willing to engage with something that is unknown. There are things out there bigger than ourselves. You have to keep an open mind.”

Fact or fiction, stories like these captivate people’s imaginations, and have for a long time. Like Bertelli says, “When you look back these bigfoot creatures have been sighted on six of the seven continents. When we go back hundreds and hundreds of years, every culture has their story about them.” So keep an open mind, and keep an eye out next time you’re in the Everglades. 

[madam-wakefield]

Family Artwork

Just a little fic for the first day of @berenaadvent and the 3rd day prompt “Silhouette”

Read on A03

If you’d told a 15 year old Bernie that one day she’d have a wife she’d have told you you were crazy. Of course by then she knew she had feelings for women, she also knew she was destined to join the army and that she would never share that first fact with another living sole.

If you’d have told a 35 year old Bernie that she’d have a wife one day she’d have told you that she’d lost her chance. That she’d made her choice to join to RAMC and marry Marcus. She’d have said that for her the legalisation of gay and lesbian people serving openly in the British army had come too late. Of course she was overjoyed it had finally happened but it was still too late for her.

If you’d have told a 51 year old Bernie that she’d have a wife one day she’d have told you that she was no good at relationships. That she’d ruined her marriage, ruined her friendship with Alex through the affair that had led to the breakdown of everything else.

Yet here she is now 62 years old, watching her three grandchildren, Florence, Mabel and Ezra and one grandniece, Greta, run towards the castle, as she walks hand in hand with her wife down Disney’s Main Street, on what is unfortunately the last day of their holiday. She struggles still sometimes, still has days where she is riddled with guilt about all the mistakes she’s made in her life, but right here right now she knows she’s exactly where she should be.

Her and her wife are lucky enough that they have a certain calibre of job, that has afforded them a comfortable life, so last year in lieu of Christmas presents they’d revealed they were taking their children and each of their grandchildren, and of course Jason and his daughter to Disney World.

It of course had taken a lot of logistics to ensure both Bernie and Serena, as well as Cameron and Morven, Charlotte and Lizzie, Elinor and Grant and Jason and Greta could all have holiday at the same time. They’ve been naughty and taken the grandchildren out of school, no way they could have organised everyone’s time off work with a school holiday. It’s all be so worth it though, the memories they’ve made together, these past two weeks, as a big giant mixed up family have been more than worth it. And Bernie knows that despite all the mistakes she’s made this is exactly where she’s meant to be, that she’s truly happy.

“You alright?” Serena says squeezing her hand, lets Bernie know she’s been quiet and musing just a little too long.

“Yes just thinking about how happy I am,” it’s as she turns to smile at Serena that she spots it. The silhouette studio off to her right. The images look so beautiful, can’t help built stop and look, the sudden and unexpected pause pulling on Serena’s arm and putting her just a little off balance. Bernie helps steady her, apologising earnestly. Before pointing and speaking

“Aren’t they beautiful?” She watches as Serena catches sight of them, eyes going wide.

“They are but from the look in your face you already have an idea forming in your head.” Serena says nudging her gently. Bernie loves the fact the woman she married can read her every expression, that she doesn’t have to hide herself.

“The art work that we have never been able to find for above the fireplace, I think we might have found it. Five of these, one for each little family arranged together to make a five like on a dice.”

Bernie allows herself to be pulled to face Serena, moulds easily as Serena leans in to kiss her quick and gentle. “You my dear are a genius, they’d look beautiful.”

That is how the next hour finds each little family in turn sitting for a silhouette. Serena and Bernie go first, their grandchildren looking in awe as the artist freehand cuts their joint silhouette out of the black card, before placing it inside the thick black oval frame. Charlotte, Lizzie and Mabel go next, being the eldest grandchild she always says it’s her job to show the others how to behave. Elinor, Grant and Erza go next, Erza is the youngest of their grandchildren, is a little impatient to get to some more rides. So after they’ve finished they send them on their way with Charlotte, Lizzie and Mabel. Tell them they’ll message when they’ll finish. Jason offers for Cameron, Morven and Florence to go next, Bernie and Serena know it’s because he doesn’t want the audience as he sits for his portrait so sends them to join Charlotte and Elinor after they’ve finished. They themselves wander slowly around the shop for the length of time it takes Jason’s little family to be finished.

It’s Bernie who takes the two bags with the carefully wrapped frames and keeps them safe for the rest of the day. That evening when they stand together to watch the fireworks, Bernie can’t help but watch Serena’s silhouette, illuminated by the colourful lights she looks as beautiful as ever and Bernie’s breath is once again take away by how lucky she is.

When they get home, Serena takes the suitcase and sets about sorting the washing while Bernie takes the bags containing the five silhouette portraits, grabs the stepladder and her tool kit and sets about finally adding their fireplace art to the living room. Every day from then on it’s her little reminder of the family she gets to call hers, of everything that is good in her world. That somehow all the decisions in her life have led to this and that there is nothing she’d rather have more and no where else she’d rather be.

[elvencasket]

UTOPIAN

I took a photo of my bed to represent the word “utopian.” I might be exposing myself a bit with this photo as you can see things like my clothes, receipts, clean chopsticks, my bag, lights, and the place that I sleep every night.

According to Merriam-Webster, “utopian” can mean “impossibly ideal.” When I see this area of my dorm, that’s the feeling I get from it. The messy things you see in the picture are artifacts of a life lived and being lived. Those clothes, I wore them the other day. That receipt is from buying gloves so I can go skiing with my friends. I used those chopsticks to eat hot pot with my friends when we came back to school. That bag, I carried all around NYC over the break. Those lights, I spent so much time and tape to put up. What is more ideal than knowing and seeing you are living your life the way you want to?

REALISTIC

I took a photo of this symbol on my wall to represent the word “realistic.” It is the symbol trogoautoegocrat, related to the Greek ouroboros. It is simply– eat and be eaten, sustain and be the sustainment. This is what life is about, definition three on Merriam-Webster is “based on what is real rather than on what is wanted or hoped for.” The picture itself reminds me of all organisms on earth, the ones that fly above and the ones that wriggle below. The eating circle brings in the ideas of ouroboros, which stands for infinity and oneness. This circular process of being given life, consuming and being consumed metaphorically, and then at the end literally, which repeats for infinity for all organisms, is the most ancient rule and the most real anything can be.

RELATE

The Merriam-Webster page for “utopian” has a little blurb below the definitions, a part of which states, “He created the name from topos ("place") and ou, Greek for "no", since he was well aware that nowhere so perfect was likely to exist on earth.” I gravitate heavily towards symbolism, because I love creating meaning in my life. So when I describe a receipt as “an artifact of a life being lived,” creating that symbol is the closest I can get to utopia. Of course, I established earlier that the trogoautoegocrat/ouroboros is a symbol itself, and carries a lot of meaning that is applicable to reality. I think similarly about the objects on my bed, and I realize that maybe we look too vastly and into the future for utopia when really that feature can be found in the real things that have been here.

REALITIES

I think most people have seen that post with the word “sonder,” meaning briefly, “the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.” You are the main character of your own life, like everyone else is the main character of their own. And they have their own bag they took to a big city, or clothes laying around they wore the other day, and you might never know.

There is a certain beauty in knowing there is a oneness in the ouroboros process. It is so natural to decay, it is so natural to die, it is so natural to be consumed, in fact you might have already been blown in the face with this process, and everyone is going through it with you.

In both, it is just beautiful to recognize the ways that we are not truly alone in the world!

[existentialbby]

Sometimes I like to think about the fact that in 1492 Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue but like, honestly, that is such a random historical fact that has for reason gained relevancy like it's common knowledge now that the vikings landed in the US before Christopher Columbus and also like uh maybe the literal native Americans hello????? Like just cause everyone in England was too busy fucking inventing new ways to kill eachother to realize like oh shit there's more land over here doesn't mean that the America's were some sort of huge discovery, like why the fuck do I even care that Christopher Columbus existed other than the atrocities he committed being bad. It's not even a particularly relevant history to the America's if you ask me like the colonies sure that's kinda relevant thats when Europeans started to immigrate but idk I think I would have just liked a section that taught native american history. Like the most I ever got was the Thanksgiving speech and even that shit hole lesson was conceived by an ass hat who had no idea what was going on or trying to needlessly dumb it down for me. Very frustrating. I think that sometimes we spend a lot of time trying to dumb things down for kids, and lord believe me I know that some kids out there do totally need it to be dumbed down, but like, nah man immerse them kids in a cultures and educated enviornment so they can grow up and recognize parallels between the lives of people past and their own experiences. There are so many modern examples of happenings in the world that we can look back to history and say "wait, haven't we done this before?" Maybe that's the nature of humanity, to be in an infinite loop of constant fucking up and repeating out mistakes, but I'd really like to believe that we're more than that, that we can truly learn from our past and our mistakes if only we open our hearts to the possibilities. Sometimes, it seems like it's surely too big an ask to be even remotely possible, but such is our burden, the burden to try against that which is impossible. Every day we wake up and face the horrors of our reality, the mundanity of life, and though it may be a struggle, ultimately we do find ourselves doing our little tasks and serving the capitalism gods above us. We do this in spite of our eminent ends. Maybe we don't always recognize that, we choose to not constantly think about how any day can be our last, but it is a fact that we celebrate in many ways. With each passing year we celebrate birthdays, both for the monumenntous occasion of our entering into this cruel and beautiful world, and for a grim but subtle reminder that our time here is but a trial. And sadly, no one knows when it's going to end.

Maybe that's what makes our little lives precious, of course there's all the rest of being a person and Yada Yada Yada, but I find that there is something uniquely human in our determination to face everyday despite the literal hard wall of the inevitable. Often, instead of feeling down, though I have down days too, I feel inspired to create, to pour my heart out into these posts or to write a hilariously bad piece of poetry. That too is a burden in of itself, a constant battle of wanting to outplay my own past experiences, to one up myself in an infinitely scaling tower of incredible mind numbing expository greatness, or to somehow eventually create something so profound that it doesn't just touch your heart, it shatters it. I think it's hard to convey emotion through any medium, how is it possible that great artists can use the forms of music or paint or word to twist us up? How can I surpass their ability to give you an emotional and mental experience like no other? How can I wire to you, directly, the feelings that I have? I want to blow your mind. I really do. But it's hard to constantly reach that level when sometimes all your brains wants to do is be like hehe hehe froggy. So I don't know, there's a lot of things I don't know. Like

The primordial soup right

DNA was just forming

How did that happen? Obviously there's theories but like imagine being there in person to see it. It would probably look like nothing but still, that could be cool. Isn't it scary to think about how we're all nothing but constantly running chemical reactions? Everything including us could be reduced to simple cause and effect. Like, you say bazinga, cause I asked you to and the effect I'd that it would cool I think

B*zinga (derogatory)

[freshlybakedspiderbread]

hi! im gonna say seiga or miko for the ask game!

seiga was just done over here but she's about to come up soon :P ! so that toyosatomimi...

General opinion/How much I care about them: i love miko... 🎧 i mentioned before about coming to love the td crew as a whole over a long time of reading doujins featuring them and Miko is obviously a big part of that too. she and her crew are such a fun addition to gensokyo's worldbuilding and Miko herself is amazing. zun's historical rpf version of prince shotoku who became a hot girl wizard and wants to take over the world and is super charismatic about it? that's unmatched.

...that said, kind of a tangent here, her premise and deliberately kinda nationalistic motifs are only fun in touhou because she's contrasted with a bunch of similarly ambitious reglious leaders and their own groups, and that you know none of them would ever actually ever 'succeed'. They'll probably always be competition and waning in powers, but that consistent conflict is sort of its own kind of peace since gensokyo can always accomodate them.

A ship I love: hey guess what im not done talking about seiga because its seimiko time. just like seiyoshi i also have a really specific headcanon backstory in mind for them which i cant really get into all of it right now, but to try and sum up: Even if Miko knew Seiga's desires were only self-serving, she admired/respected/idolised/loved Seiga who appeared before her to answer all of Miko's greatest desires, and at some point decide it wasnt enough to just learn how to not die from her, but to also become a beautiful hermit who challenges the fate the world bestows them.

And it mustve been unexpected for Seiga to meet someone who managed to see her for everything she is (which includes defiling corpses and generally making an enemy of heaven every day), and not only not really care but also Gets Her.

thaaaaat all being said, in present day Miko knows Seiga has a Reputation and gets up to Antics that doesn't exactly paint hermits in the greatest light, so she's like always bouncing between two ends of a meter where she's begging her dear teacher to reign things in, or she's trying to explain to others why digging up corpses is actually not as bad as it looks 😰🥰

A non-romantic relationship that I love: it doesnt come up in my head often but her shared parenting of Kokoro along with Byakuren and Mamizou is both sweet and extremely funny. Miko taking it upon herself as a matter of pride to guide the menreiki thanks to her role in their creation is really good, and its also really funny that despite that connection she still basically has to compete with others over her, and she probably loses to the tanuki more often than not??

also does 'ex-romantic' count because i absolutely adhere to belief that in her and okina's former lives, they absolutely were a thing, bonded over a shared love of art and beauty, created a whole bunch of noh masks together... But then Miko started caring about all that a whole lot less when a certain hermit hailing from China entered the picture, and the rest was history 😌

The NOTP: call me miss no fun but it might be miko/byakuren. i do actually really love the rivalry between miko and byakuren, the back and forths, the varying hypocrisy, the thematic parallels, and the ways they do manage to work together for a common cause! I just. have yet to see a way to turn it romantic that works for me.

also on that note if you're gonna do miko/saki (which will always just be for jokes to me and never anything i sincerely consider), saki has to be the one putting a saddle on miko ���

My biggest headcanon about them: everything above was kinda it 😆 maybe more will come to my mind in the future...

An idea for a fanfiction I would like to write/read about them: she'd be in the seiga backstory fic too since their first meeting is kinda vital to both characters. but as for another idea... Adventure Game type story where to earn points with the people, she susses out some random people's desires and goes to find the most quick and expedient way to fulfill them n_n

Something that makes me think of them: one time in pokemon xy i thought of naming an espurr after her because i knew meowstic kinda reminded me of her 🐱

[misfitwashere]

Perspective

From Steve Kean on FB: FOR THOSE WHO ARE 60 yrs OLD AND ABOVE PLEASE READ THIS. This is for you. I really like what is said here and am going to try my best to follow it. Thank you to the person who wrote this. May God bless us all as we strive to be a blessing to others at this age, especially to our children.

Between 60 and death. It's time to use the money you saved up. Use it and enjoy it. Don't just keep it for those who may have no notion of the sacrifices you made to get it. Remember there is nothing more dangerous than a son or daughter-in-law with big ideas for your hard-earned capital.

Warning: This is also a bad time for investments, even if it seems wonderful or fool-proof. They only bring problems and worries. This is a time for you to enjoy some peace and quiet.

Stop worrying about the financial situation of your children and grandchildren, and don't feel bad spending your money on yourself. You've taken care of them for many years, and you've taught them what you could. You gave them an education, food, shelter, and support. The responsibility is now theirs to earn their own money. Keep a healthy life, without great physical effort. Do moderate exercise (like walking every day), eat well, and get your sleep. It's easy to become sick, and it gets harder to remain healthy. That is why you need to keep yourself in good shape and be aware of your medical and physical needs. Keep in touch with your doctor, do tests even when you're feeling well. Stay informed.

Always buy the best, most beautiful items for your significant other. The key goal is to enjoy your money with your partner. One day one of you will miss the other, and the money will not provide any comfort then, enjoy it together. Don't stress over the little things. You've already overcome so much in your life. You have good memories and bad ones, but the important thing is the present. Don't let the past drag you down and don't let the future frighten you. Feel good in the now. Small issues will soon be forgotten. Regardless of age, always keep love alive. Love your partner, love life, love your family, love your neighbor and remember: "A man is not old as long as he has intelligence and affection." Be proud, both inside and out. Don't stop going to your hair salon or barber, do your nails, go to the dermatologist and the dentist, keep your perfumes and creams well stocked. When you are well-maintained on the outside, it seeps in, making you feel proud and strong.

Don’t lose sight of fashion trends for your age, but keep your own sense of style. You’ve developed your own sense of what looks good on you – keep it and be proud of it. It’s part of who you are. ALWAYS stay up-to-date. Read newspapers, watch the news. Go online and read what people are saying. Make sure you have an active email account and try to use some of those social networks. You'll be surprised at what old friends you'll meet. Respect the younger generation and their opinions. They may not have the same ideas as you, but they are the future and will take the world in their direction. Give advice, not criticism, and try to remind them that yesterday's wisdom still applies today. Never use the phrase: “In my time.” Your time is now. As long as you’re alive, you are part of this time. Some people embrace their golden years, while others become bitter and surly. Life is too short to waste your days on the latter. Spend your time with positive, cheerful people, it'll rub off on you and your days will seem that much better. Spending your time with bitter people will make you feel older and harder to be around. Do not surrender to the temptation of living with your children or grandchildren (if you have a financial choice, that is). Sure, being surrounded by family sounds great, but we all need our privacy. They need theirs and you need yours. Even then, do so only if you feel you really need the help or do not want to live by yourself Don't abandon your hobbies. If you don't have any, make new ones. You can travel, hike, cook, read, dance. You can adopt a cat or a dog, grow a kitchen garden, play cards, checkers, chess, dominoes, golf. Try to go. Get out of the house, meet people you haven't seen in a while, experience something new (or something old). The important thing is to leave the house from time to time. Go to museums, go walk through a park. Get out there. Speak in courteous tones and try not to complain or criticize too much unless you really need to. Try to accept situations as they are. Pains and discomfort go hand in hand with getting older. Try not to dwell on them but accept them as a part of life. If you've been offended by someone – forgive them. If you've offended someone-apologize. Don't drag around resentment with you. It only serves to make you sad and bitter. It doesn't matter who was right. Someone once said: "Holding a grudge is like taking poison and expecting the other person to die." Don't take that poison. Forgive, forget, and move on with your life.

Laugh. Laugh away your worries Remember, you are one of the lucky ones. You managed to have a life, a long one. Many never get to this age, never get to experience a full life.

My valued friends, enjoy peaceful life at this point in your life … Don't worry… be happy.

[brandileigh2003]

Rent free in my head. And ofc "haunting" in best way. Moments or quotes, characterizations

Crimson rivers, wolf's heart, couple of @lavenderhaze fics. Some lines from wifey as well @lucigoo

Spoilers below

--I'd die for them but I'd live for you- crimson rivers by bizarrestars

--i know you won't remember but I forgive you sweetheart crimson rivers

--great big tragedy crimson rivers

--you're hesitanting love crimson rivers

--He has a second, maybe two, of consciousness, and he uses them, greedily, to think of Remus’ smile. He then thinks of nothing more. (A wolfs heart by mizdiz)

--Every test showed that, at the one year mark, there were no signs of rejection. “Of course there isn’t,” Remus wanted to say. “This heart is the closest to my own I could ever get.” (A wolfs heart)

--It was always going to be you, in the end. You’re my best friend and the love of my life, Pads, and I can’t comprehend a world in which you and I aren’t together. It hurts to think about and I wish it didn’t have to be this way. Just look up, and I’ll be there. There’s a reason my nickname is Moony, eh?Just me and you, until the end (we are beautiful, we are doomed by peachyybabe)

-- Love couldn’t fix everything, but for right now it was perfect. They were two whole people, not a single crack between the both of them, and oh how Remus wished they could’ve stayed that way forever.

“It’s not fair, Rem. I wanted forever with you and…well you had your forever with me but I’m still stuck here, ya know? I think of you every second of every day. Everything reminds me of you. Sometimes I’ll hear a song in the supermarket that you love and I’ll have a full breakdown in the cereal aisle, or I’ll see someone wearing a jumper I think you’d like and lose my shit on the bus watching them walk away. I know you’d want me to be happy and I am, some days, but some days it’s just so hard. I just want you here with me.”

“Alright, my love. I got to go, but I’ll be back soon, okay? I’ll be back. Always. For you.”(what a wonder (what a waste) by peachyybabe

--There, next to the Sirius star, the star that was shining even brighter than usual, another star twinkled into view. A star Regulus had never seen before. A star that looked like a quarter moon at the right angle. The kind of moon that was a werewolves favourite. James and Regulus looked up as the stars above them twinkled, almost as if their missing ones were up there watching over them, together. (They took my heart, I'm going to take their lives by Lucigoo89)

--“Ok Moony, time to go. Time to rejoin him, body, heart and soul right?

Remus Lupin wont leave this world with a bang, but with a whimper, Sirius name a whisper on his lips and a shout in his heart. (I Want To Die Too by Lucigoo89)

The theme and quotes from wolfstar and their something and everything:

-- everything that we do here, it means something. Our unavoidable conclusion doesn't take away from that," Remus murmurs, pulling his hand back to cup Sirius' cheek. "We are something, but we can't be everything.

**-"I'd take being something with you over being everything with anyone else

**-"What we are is something. We're something, Sirius."

"As long as we're not nothing," Sirius whispers.

"No, never that," Remus whispers back, reassuring him, and he lets Sirius tug him back into his arms. In silence, they lean into each other and hold on.

It's a long time before they let go.

--“Alright, my love. I got to go, but I’ll be back soon, okay? I’ll be back. Always. For you.”

--Something, never nothing, everything.

---All this talk of everything, and I had it from the moment I met you. You're my everything."

-You're glorious: you're a miracle, Remus, and that means I'm blessed. Oh, I'm so fucking blessed to have you. I—I would do anything. Give you anything. Let you have anything.

-The truth is, anything with Sirius has always been everything.

has anyone else ever had a fanfic that just... haunts them? like it's been months and maybe even years since you read it, but it just lingers with you and you can never truly leave behind the imprint it made on you? and maybe it's just a single line, one sentence that you can't shake off, that takes up residence in your mind and stays there, feeding into your psyche and subtly influencing your brainspace and maybe even your writing or other works?

[wormcocoon]

Letter to W (number i dunno)

Dear Mr. W,

Halo! How long has it been?!

Probably not much, maybe just a month? Oh, Mr. W. A lot of things going on at the moment. I had a week or almost two weeks of cooking. I made so many dishes. I inconvenienced my friends by convincing them that it's better to stay indoors and that I'd cook for them in exchange of them bringing me ingredients and a bottle or two of wine. Gosh.

In the week before my birthday, I had a bottle of wine every night. Sometimes, in the mornings I would make a Soju Milk Soda. I'd have a glass every morning and a bottle of wine in the evening. And like in that Lorde song, I let the days and nights change my mind. But never really doing any real action. I wrote all of them out, all feeling and thought I wrote them out, even when they didn't appear as is in words. I wrote them in a way, that I knew I meant the way it did in my head.

Anyway, my sister had her oathtaking yesterday. I had to color my hair black. It was pink for a week. I bleached it twice, then purpled it, it faded and turned pink, and then i turned it black.

This weekend I was at Moalboal. At the beach with Vian and Fleur. I am happy to have that be Vian's last memory of the beach here in the Philippines. I bought the two of them a bracelet. I hope it was a good 2 days for Vian.

We plan to get matching tattoos, a chain of stars, sometime this week before November 30. My sister will have her Thanksgiving dinner at home on that day. I will go back to Badian too. I would say home, but home has been vague these days. I mostly don't know where I belong, so,,, so I retreat inside my head and heart and make that my home. Not letting myself be too focused on the external places. The world is still beautiful to my eyes though. Thank God.

I cried on my birthday. I got flowers courtesy of Elvin. Baby's breathe/asters, and gladiolus flowers. Can you IMAGINE? I slid down the wall and was about to have a big cry! I remembered Alyssa was coming over though so I tried not to get too eaten by it. I wanted to though. But it's okay. I placed the flowers on a vase the next day. I cut the bottom stems, removed the tape, and placed it on the dining table. It's browning at the base now, but the top buds of the Gladiolus continue to bloom. They are pretty.

I am at the office today. I read everything.

I'm not sure if I should make actions. I live my life. There is an almost nagging, like a pea in a 10 mattress bed, feeling in me. That I should do something. I'm not sure what. I don't want to be the one that fixes it all again by being okay.

I am okay Mr. W. I'm better these days. Na tagam nalang jud ko mahimong the one who makes situations depend on them. I've never had that feeling you see. People always seem to assign that to me. Don't I always say what I want? Why can't we have that conversation? Is there nothing you want?

I had this conversation with Alyssa, how very isolating it is when people look to us for decisions. We also want to depend on others, we want our moods and emotions to rely on somebody. To know that feeling, instead we are trapped into becoming encouraging, trapped to understanding, trapped to action, trapped to make things better for them instead of for us. Because why not? These are people I like, people I chose.

Most days, it doesn't matter. It's all good because it's Love. But on crucial days, its so isolating. Like not being understood. Like being considered above everybody. It's sweet, but its lonely. We both just want to be held really.

hehe. I miss you Mr. W. I know you're all around me. But I guess this is just the human condition, to miss stuff.

I wonder what I will have for lunch. Sometimes I wonder what Elvin eats for lunch. And though I know he reads these, I feel a little detached because this is a letter addressed to you Mr. W. That's why I always love writing letters. It makes me able to write about things I love.

I read his own account of things of course. It's like a ritual I avoid. I know I'm going to do it, but I still try not to. But because it's ritual, I do it anyway. Rituals never hurt.

Well, okay, human sacrifices hurt, and probably a lot of other rituals. But this one doesn't. It's like reading the newspaper, or reading the calendar.

Oh Mr. W, how are you? Are your Ice still melting? Will more volcanoes come up from the water? A lot of these billionaires are looking up to space. A lot of these politicians still fight over money and raw materials.

I wonder if any of them has ever just wanted to look at flowers, and said, "This is okay."

I'm still jolted by my feelings and the people around me. I'd love to exist in somebody else's orbit Mr. W. I have so much love to give.

You see this is also something I eventually realized. My capacity to love is SO HUGE. I think I understand now what new mother's say when they go, I didn't know I could love more than I do, but I do the moment I got you. Only, I am sans baby. And thank God for that too! I couldn't afford the diapers yet!

Wow, this is turning out to be a really long letter Mr. W.

It's sunny outside. Christmas is only 29 days away. And then 2025. Oh how the world continues to turn.

Mr. W, my Clue says I am 2 days away from my period. I feel it too, sleeping very heavily, cravings' crazy, tears near the surface. I am only glad I can say, "This is okay." Maybe not all the time, and of course I still have the wants and desires. But that's okay too. And that everything I feel and think while PMS'ing and while on the period is still true and honest, as I've always been. Rena praised me for my consistency too. hehe.

I just pricked myself on a pin, thinking of what else to tell you Mr. W.

! I withdraw from my masters! It made me cry a lot of nights. Even today it makes me sad, I told my sister. I was sort of asking for her permission or support on my decision. She told me, she'd help me next time. It warmed my heart. I miss learning. But I am learning today. Just other stuff.

Mr. W, I was also supposed to upload a video on Youtube about my week of relaxation. I took so many videos of me cooking. But I'm still editing it. In the end maybe i'll just make a trailer/teaser type. Without ever releasing the full length. hehe cause its only for me and the people in my inner life.

What else.

I miss Elvin Mr. W. But in a way this feels like a dishonest way of saying things. There is a missing element, like an excluded part of the story which explains why I miss him. It's all in our history. All the times we've spent, the shift from semi-childhood, to teenhood, to adulthood, and to the settling down of who we are in the world.

Its living Mr. W.

I think I'll end here for now. Here are a few photos I'll share.

[pastorralffriedrichs]

Straight from Hope Ministries Sanctuary.

Blessings to you all. Another beautiful day given to us from above. I want to share this devotion this early morning with you

As we live by truth and speak it boldly, we can also show others the grace that has transformed our lives and can transform theirs.

For most of my life, I’ve been interested in knowing the truth — specifically God’s truth. This led me to mimistery studies, join churches and make Bible study a regular part of my life. I see the value of truth and how it influences every area of my life.

Likewise, I’ve lately been walking through a season of needing a lot of grace.

And as I’ve received grace, and given it, I’ve discovered how big God’s grace truly is. It’s more massive than we can imagine and available to us at any moment, even when our own choices have led us down painful roads.

What would Jesus do?

When I was a college student, “WWJD?” (What Would Jesus Do?) bracelets were all the rage. Mine was blue and I wore it proudly. It was a reminder of who I wanted to be and how I wanted to treat others. Consider how John 1:14 describes Jesus: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

Jesus came and dwelt among us — that has always been a comforting truth to me. But what was Jesus like? He was full of grace and truth. He wasn’t half-and-half or 40/60; He was 100 percent grace and 100 percent truth. As we emulate our Savior, that quality can be difficult to reproduce in our own lives.

In his book “The Grace and Truth Paradox,” Randy Alcorn writes:

“Truth without grace breeds a self-righteous legalism that poisons the church and pushes the world away from Christ. Grace without truth breeds moral indifference and keeps people from seeing their need for Christ.

“Attempts to ‘soften’ the gospel by minimizing truth keep people from Jesus. Attempts to ‘toughen’ the gospel by minimizing grace keep people from Jesus. It’s not enough for us to offer grace or truth. We must offer both.”

Through the years, God has given me many opportunities to give and receive grace.

He has also prompted me to know and speak the truth. As I consider how I might follow Jesus’ example in balancing the two, here are some principles that rise to the top.

Recognize the true enemy. This year I’ve been captivated by the words of Ephesians 6:12 which say, “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” So many of the struggles we face in life originate from the epic spiritual battle going on behind the scenes. Our enemy Satan prowls around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour. Unfortunately, he too often gets his kill.

When we view our sin and the sins of those around us in this context, we will see that Jesus and His amazing grace is our only hope for redemption. The Gospels often depict Jesus showing grace to sinners and having compassion for them. As we interact with the sinful, broken people around us, we must remember that we all have the same enemy and we all share the same hope in Jesus, the cross, and His resurrection.

Don’t minimize truth. Though we serve a Savior of unparalleled grace and compassion, He is also full of truth — the One Revelation calls Faithful and True. Many times, I’ve been tempted to tone down the truth of God’s Word on certain issues because it seems “unkind” to boldly speak a countercultural message. I am grateful for fellow believers who are bold and have challenged and encouraged me in this area.

As Christ-followers, we are called to live and speak unpopular opinions. I have heard amazing stories of God using the truthful words of a believer to lead another to saving faith in Christ. Jesus instructed His disciples to fear God more than man: “What I tell you in the dark, say in the light, and what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matthew 10:27-28).

Don’t be the unforgiving debtor. Jesus told a story about a man who was forgiven a large debt. After the man left the master, he encountered another man who owed him a much smaller sum. Instead of showing the mercy he had been shown, the forgiven man fully prosecuted the other. When the master heard of this, he threw the first man in prison until he could repay his debt.

That story made a big impression on me. There is a link between receiving God’s forgiveness and passing it on to others. Through His Son’s blood, God has forgiven me a large debt. My sins may look different than someone else’s, but they cost Jesus just as much. That realization should inspire humility, gratefulness, and a desire for others to experience the same freedom and forgiveness I have.

Walking in grace and truth

As I’ve given thought to this concept of living out truth and grace, I’ve decided it is only possible through the power of the Holy Spirit. As we confess sin, stay connected to Jesus the True Vine, and keep in step with the Spirit, He will fill us with grace and truth. When we encounter a fellow debtor, we can point him to truth while also inviting him to experience God’s amazing grace.

As we live by truth and speak it boldly, we can also show others the grace that has transformed our lives and can transform theirs.

May God always bless you and may you all go thrugh life with Jesus Christ in your life

https://ralffriedrichs.info

[lem0nshark-writes]

"The City of Ruins"

Thranduil x Male (elf) Reader

Word count: 2344 Summary: Lost lovers reunite 🌙☄

Warnings: angst at first then fluff w/ smut later on, the begining of smut is marked tho so don't worry, reader's a bottom

🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄

After the battle for Erebor you stayed behind in the city of Dale, it wasn't on your own accord, no. If it were up to you you would have returned to Mirkwood with your king, but you were banished from your home.

Such events came to be because you defied your king's orders to fall back and leave the dwarves to deal with orcs on their own. But you weren't gonna let your friends die, you weren't gonna let them fight on their own, even if it meant going against your king's will.

So you stayed behind, betrayed look on your king's face coming to haunt you more often than you'd like to admit. But you knew you did the right thing.

Many moons passed since the battle and you managed to fix yourself a home, it wasn't much, just a lower floor with a fireplace and a spot to lay on, but it's all you could muster up from the city in ruins.

You took it upon yourself to slowly clean and build around yourself, salvaging what you can of the city. And short trips to Laketown took care of your need for food and liquids.

It was a decent life, but terribly horribly lonely.

Your only friend being your thoughts and a bittersweet longing for your rín meleth*.

(*crowned love)

You feelings didn't come as surprise to you, they've been lingering for a while now but you've never acted on them, fearing he wouldn't feel the same and you'd cross a line. And besides, you were just a regular elf, no royalty, why would you ever be a match for him.

Dark stormy clouds gathered around the mountain and the city of Dale, heavy rain moments from being released.

You rushed to your small home in the heart of the city, arms full of twigs and branches, racing the time against the rain. And you made it in in the last second because just as you closed the door the sky came crashing down in big droplets.

You let out a sigh of relief and made your way to the fireplace, placing the newbrought wood at the side of it and started the night's fire. After making sure it's well lit and strong, you moved the remaining wood on the side for later.

You got up and took off unnecessary layers of clothes and your boots as the room started to fill up with warmth, setting them on their spot near the door.

Fixing your hair up in a messy bun you sat down on your bed and just as your were about to lay down for your daily rest, an unexpected knock on the door broke the comfortable silence mixed in with the crackling of the fire.

You looked up at the door and slowly got up, wondering who could it be as no guests announced themselves for the following days.

Creaking the door open your eyes widened in surprise. There in front of you, soaked in rain head to toe, stood none other than your ex king.

Your shock was soon pushed away by reminiscence of betrayal and old memories that came flooding your thoughts.

"How could you do that to me?.." pained expression pushed it's way through on kings face, trying to overcome the angry one that he tried so hard to keep.

"I already told you, but I guess you've gone deaf on your ears, I wouldn't and I won't let my friends die because you were too much of a coward to fight!" you started slow and calm but by the end of the sentence got louder and angrier, fire of the old argument rekindling fast.

"I am no coward! I did that to save the lives of our people! To save your life!" he growled back.

Anger gushed through your body but you said nothing, staring at his icy blue eyes.

"You might be-You maybe were my king, but my friends' lives are more important than your orders," you turned away, walking deeper into the house.

Thranduil followed, doors closing after him, and looked around a bit, feeling bad seeing how you lived since he threw you out of your home.

"You're so stubborn.." he sighed heavily, "What if something happened to you? What would I do then? What would I do without you??"

You turned around slightly and looked over at him. Worry of past events and what-ifs ridden across his face mixing with anger towards your stubbornness.

"You did just fine.." you muttered almost inaudibly, looking back away to hide your tears, old feelings starting to become too much.

He looked at you in shock for a few moments before regaining his ability to speak, "What… You think I enjoyed banishing you?? You think I enjoyed returning home without you and spending months an months with you nowhere in sight?? You think I like that?? .. When people ask me where you are?? .. Not seeing your face ever day??…"

"You think my soul isn't tearing into pieces without my meleth.." he looked at you, sadness twisting his face into a pained expression.

Your eyes widened at the last part and you turned around swiftly, standing there with your mouth agape for a few moments before speaking, " . . . Your meleth?.."

Thranduil's eyes widened a bit as well after he realized what he had said but then closed slowly as his expression melted into one of saddened agreement.

"You loved me?.." you asked softly.

He nodded, ". . . I still do.."

"Why didn't you say anything?.." you took a few steps towards the taller male, closing the gap between you two almost completely, and searched his eyes with your own.

"I feared you wouldn't feel the same.. and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you if that were true.." he finally gazed back at you.

"Silly king," you muttered through a slight smile forming on your face, " I loved you for hundreds of years, and I still do," you took his hands in yours and held them to your chest.

At your words his face lit up like forest in spring waking up from a long winter dream and he leaned I swiftly, locking his lips with yours, something he's been yearning to do for so long.

Without thinking you returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace and he did the same, his strong arms washing away all the worries and making you feel like the whole world around you disappeared.

"Return home with me my meleth, rule as a king by my side, let's never part again," he whispered into your neck.

Your lips spread into a warm smile as you gazed upon his eyes, "I'd like that very much."

((smut continuation from here on))

The two of you settled down on a crapet by the fireplace, setting your journey back to Mirkwood for tomorrow, when the storm hopefully calms down.

You forced the king to take off the outer layer of his clothes to put to dry by the fire and he undid his wet hair too, allowing it to dry easier on the warm air.

The two of you rested in each other's arms for a while, letting the fire warm you both up as you chatted exchanging some old stories and talks of your lingering feelings.

He smiled down at you, arms wrapped around your body as you rested your back against his chest. You looked up at him, returning the smile, "What?"

"Nothing. I just am wondering why we didn't confess sooner," he placed a warm kiss onto your jaw.

"Me too," your eyes instantly closed as he did that, "I guess we are two completely oblivious idiots," you added with a chuckle.

He let out a chuckle as well, "That we are." He grinned and kissed you deepy, passion spilling out from his lips.

You smiled into the kiss and returned just as passionately, cupping his cheeks in the process.

The bigger elf moved slightly, allowing your bodies to face each other, before wrapping his arms around you again.

The two of your kept on kissing, the kiss turning from slow and passionate to yearning and with a lot more tongue.

His hands started roaming your body and soon enough your vest was off, and shortly after your shirt too.

At the motion you parted your kiss and the two of you exchanged a knowing look. And just as quickly his lips were back on yours and your hands now undoing his top.

Once you won the battle with his shirt he moved his lips to your neck, tracing kisses and licks before the same turned into bites and sucks, leaving hickeys behind that ended up littering your neck and your chest.

You moaned on his actions, running your fingers through his hair and giving it a gentle thug on each bite he left on your soft skin.

He moved his attention to your lower stomach, leaving warm kisses there as he slipt your pants off with a single swift move.

You looked up at him, the two of you locking eyes, as you bit your lower lip. His gaze trailed around your body, taking in every bit of it, "Y/n.. you're beautiful.." he said, lust-laced desire dripping off his words.

The tone he spoke in made you shiver under his touch. He gave you a deep kiss and then proceeded to take his pants off too and soon enough both of yours undergarments followed.

He laid you down and got on top of you, kissing you deeply once again.

Your eyes stayed locked with his abs and, well, lower parts, being slightly taken aback by how good he looks.

He quickly caught up on your thoughts and smirked, making you in return blush like mad.

"Like what you see?" Thranduil smirked at his smaller lover who by the looks of it was about to burst into flames from the redness his cheeks reached caused by his words and that smug smirk Thranduil proudly wore.

He chuckled at his lover's sudden shyness and let his hand trail to his already errect memeber.

You gasped softly at the feel of his fingers on you and your eyes closed from pleasure, hand rushing to your mouth to silent the escaping moans.

Thranduil's hand reached for yours and moved it from your mouth, pinning it above your head, "I like your moans, don't hide them," he smirked and left kisses across your yaw and neck once again, as his hand worked magic bringing you all the way to the edge before abruptly stopping.

You looked up at him in wonder, unpleased and yearning for the pleasure to come back. He smirked softly at you and pulled you by your thighs closer to himself and his face went down.

You looked up at what he was up to and gasped in pleasure when you felt his slick tongue move against your hole. You fell back and your eyes rolled in sweetness as his tongue made it's way into you. It twisted and turned inside you, sending waves of pleasure all throughout your body, his hands squeezing your butt cheeks as they held onto them.

Once again you were on the edge of an orgasm and once again he pulled away just as you were about to reach it.

You whined slightly this time, pouting at his repeated action.

"Shhhhhh you'll like what comes next better-," he smirked at you and sat himself up again, grabbing at the sides of your thighs as he positioned himself at your now wet entrance.

You propped yourself up just enough to reach his lips and kiss him deeply, which he gladly returned, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek.

"Ready?" he smiled at you warmly as you two held your faces close to one another. You gave him a soft nod, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

He slowly started pushing in, giving you enough time in-between each little push to adjust to him in you, moans rolling off your tongue along with rugged breaths.

Once he was all the way inside you he kissed you deeply, distracting you from any lingering pain till it all melted away into burning pleasure.

Holding at your sides he slowly started moving his hips pushing his big length in and out of you, at first slowly before picking up the pace. Moans streamed out of both of your mouths mixed up with muffled breathing between kisses.

"Ahhhh hhhhhngggg…" moans left your mouth one after the other as he picked up the pace even more, hand back on your ass and squeezing it.

Your finger nails raked his back in pleasure causing him to moan your name out between paced breaths, "Y/n… ahhh-."

You moved your lips to his neck, leaving the tall elf an even bigger moaning mess as you left hickey upon hickey against his skin.

He slapped your ass in the moment as he pushed in even deeper, reaching that sweet sweet spot, making you moan his name out even louder than before. He picked up on that and started hitting that spot repeatedly with even greater strength making you melt completely underneath him.

He could tell you were very close and so was he, and with a few more strong thrusts both of you came hard, moaning each other's names and spilling, you on his and yours stomach and him inside of you.

Panting he brought himslef down and placed a loving kiss on your lips, exhausted with pleasure and still riding your orgasm you returned.

He gently pulled out and plopped down next to you, pulling you close into his warm embrace.

You two stayed like that for a while, hugging and unable to reach your breaths.

Once your breath returned to your lungs you snuggled up into his chest and kissed his yaw, "I love you my king."

He smiled down at you and hugged you tighter, placing a long kiss onto your lips, "I love you too meleth."

[therealvalkyrie]

exactly the spring

Pairing/setting: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader, college!AU

Summary: Reserved biology student Ushijima finds himself falling in love when you, an adorably disorganized art student, wander into the greenhouse.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: fluff, kissing

AN: Hi!! So, the inspiration for this one sprang from the beautiful, sexi brain of Emme ( @doinmybesthere ) way back in MARCH ahem anyway, it's done! I hope it's just as soft and intimate as you envisioned<33 Also, big shoutout to my beautiful friends Arobi ( @daqueenobooty ) and Cee ( @spacelabrathor ) for being wonderful betas and giving me such kind comments:) I hope you enjoy, and as always don't be shy about leaving comments or coming to chat! Be kind to yourselves and others.  ~valkyrie

p.s. check out this amazing art that @/54prowl made of plant boy ushi!! :D

Plants don’t talk back, Ushijima learned as a toddler. He’d babble to them in nonsensical phrases as his mother worked in the garden, and they’d only sway in the wind and listen, waxy under his chubby fingers.

A volleyball doesn’t talk back, either, not even through its bounces and echoes on hands and hard surfaces. It doesn’t listen as easily as plants, but can be herded and shaped like putty into a winning thing if you touch it right. This, Ushijima learned at his father’s hand and carried with him through childhood and adolescence.

The joy and puzzlement of you is that you do both. You listen so intently and openly with your steady eyes and soft body as the words pour out of him. And then, you reply. With your clear voice and new perspective, you offer something new. You offer companionship.

It was the second week of spring semester that you wandered into the greenhouse, eyes lit by the sun and sketchbook under one arm. Ushijima was repotting a large fern, dirt up to his elbows as he kneeled on the floor. He barely gave you a second glance, preoccupied with nestling the plant’s root system comfortably.

You settled a short distance away, crossing your legs to sit on the tile floor in front of an orange tree to sketch its still-closed flower buds with charcoal pencils. He kept working as you did, the sun sliding across glass, shadows shifting into the early evening of winter. When the sun was threatening to set over the city skyline — even with the greenhouse where it sits on the roof of the biology building — he turned to tell you he was closing up, only to find you gone. In your place, sitting on the wooden table that held newly planted basil and sage, was a drawing.

It was a single branch, detailed in shades of charcoal down to the last dewdrop. At the bottom, looping handwriting scrawled, “thank you for the peace.”

That night, he tacked it up above his desk in his dorm next to the postcard from Tendō and hoped you’d come back.

And you do, a couple of days later, on a Saturday. He looks up from where he’s filling in the logbook, this time, catching your gaze and holding it for a moment before you break away to survey the room. Today, he thinks you looked breathtaking. You’re wearing a long, flowing skirt and a sweater that makes him want to feel how soft it is, and how soft you are in it, and by the time his brain catches up with his thoughts, he’s been staring too long and your eyes have wandered back to him. It’s raining, today — it never really snows in this city, he’s learned — and shadowy droplets play across your face as they drip down the greenhouse’s arched glass ceiling, highlighting the curve of your cheekbone and making your eyes glow softly.

He clears his throat and looks back to the thick spiral-bound book on the table before him. Sometimes, when he meets people for the first time, he knows he can come across as intimidating. That worked out for him in high school and on the volleyball court, but in his adulthood, it’s been more of a hindrance than a help. It makes it… difficult to make friends here, where he doesn’t already know anyone.

And the last thing he wants is to scare you away. The last thing he wants is to break the peace you’ve apparently found here.

Which is why he barely dares to breathe when he looks up to find you approaching him where he’s perched on a sturdy wooden stool.

“Hi,” you smile and lilt, and god if it isn’t the most beautiful word Ushijima’s ever heard, if it isn’t the prettiest smile he’s seen.

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t want to scare you away.

“Uhm,” you start again, when the silence makes it clear he’s waiting for you to speak, “I have an art assignment,” you start digging around in your shoulder bag as you speak, “to draw a, um, what’s it called?”

“I don’t know.”

You pause in your rifling and pin him with such a sunny smile it makes his knee start bouncing. And you laugh, too, which officially replaces your “hi” as the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Ha, you’re funny,” you resume digging, “it was um, pretty leafy and... tropical, I think? Oh! Here.” Triumphantly, you produce a wrinkled paper from your bag. It’s the first imperfect thing Ushijima’s found out about you, that you’re shit at keeping your belongings organized, and he files it away for later reference. You hold the paper in front of your face and squint slightly to read in the shifting light. “Canna indica.”

Canna indica, native to tropical climates, notable as a minor food crop for South American Native populations for thousands of years.

“And I was told that you have it, here, in the greenhouse.”

Ushijima nods and finds himself relieved that this is what you’re asking him. Plants, he can do.

“We do. Would you like me to show you?”

“Yes, please,” you also sound relieved, like he’s provided the solution to every problem you’ve ever had.

He unfolds himself from the stool, setting down his pen as he goes. You take a step back and look up at him mildly, as though you hadn’t realized quite how huge he is.

“This way,” he indicates, leading you deeper into the maze that is the biology department’s greenhouse. The winding path back to the tropical room gives him a moment to sink back into the earthy peace of being here, even if now there’s someone sharing that peace.

The temperature change from the warm main greenhouse to the balmy tropical room prompts Ushijima to shed his flannel outer layer, hanging it on the nail hammered by the door while you step in behind him.

“Whew,” you exhale, shrugging off your soft cardigan as well, “it’s hot in here.”

Ushijima hums in agreement and tries not to look too hard at the patch of skin revealed by your cropped tank top. Canna indica isn’t too far into the room, so he just gently moves past draping leaves and ceramic pots.

“Here,” he stops, holding back leaves for you. He stops breathing again when you duck under his arm and end up so close in the narrow aisle that he can smell your shampoo. The moment passes, and he can breathe again when you breeze past him and squat down to peer at the bright, waxy red leaves of your subject.

“Beautiful,” you murmur, and he silently agrees.

You’re leaning so close to the plant he’s afraid you might topple over when you make a noise of realization and sit back on your butt to rifle through your bag once again. Ushijima knows he should probably leave you to it, but he’s glad he waited just an extra minute when you pull out a pair of glasses and pop them on your face. Adorably.

“That’s better.” You’re looking back at canna indica, now, at a normal distance.

He’s figured you’ve forgotten he’s there when you start to pull out pastels from your seemingly bottomless bag, so he turns to leave you.

A soft, “hey,” calls him back to you, however, and he’s met by your face glowing eerily in the shifting rain-light. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome.”

When he locks up that afternoon, he finds another charcoal drawing waiting for him on the table near the door, this time of his favorite agapanthus africanus. No note, this time, but he attaches all the sounds he heard from you today in its place. He also finds your cardigan forgotten next to where you were sitting and carefully folds it for when you come back.

The drawing joins the orange branch on his wall-- an odd starter garden, he thinks, but all the more precious because it came from you.

The next time he sees you isn’t in the greenhouse, but instead at a cafe a couple of blocks away, two weeks later. He’s walking past, gym bag slung over his shoulder, when he hears your laugh ring out across the outdoor seating area. His eyes find you, head tipped back in sending peals of mirth into the lively spring air. It’s the first truly warm day of the season, though you and your companion are the only patrons sitting outside, and the sun catches on your glasses sat atop your head.

Your friend says something apparently hilarious, because your giggles redouble, and an honest-to-god snort pushes out of your nose. Ushijima catalogues it in his ever-growing list of sounds you make, and pauses at the crosswalk, halfway turned back to keep one eye on you and one on the light. If you were alone, he might’ve approached you and told you that he still has your sweater in the greenhouse, waiting on a shelf between succulents, but he doesn’t want to interrupt your— date?

He isn’t sure, but the person sat there with you seems like someone you might date. Clearly also an art student, judging by the carefully disheveled blue hair and combat boots. Are you the type to date someone with blue hair? Unlikely, he decides. You seem too… bright. Too floaty to be so concerned with looking like you don’t care how you look.

Ushijima’s still debating whether you find blue hair attractive when the crosswalk light begins its countdown and he starts across the street. And he almost makes it all the way across, too, when a voice calls—

“Wait! Hey!”

He turns partially because it sounds urgent enough that it might be an emergency, and his grandmother would roll in her grave if he remained a bystander to some horrific accident. But it’s you, standing up from your seat and waving him back over. He glances at the crosswalk countdown, which lights up red as it ticks from four to three, then turns and jogs back towards you, waving a hand apologetically to the cars waiting at the light. You meet him at the metal fence around the cafe seating area, and now that you’re standing, he can see you’re wearing a yellow sundress that cuts off at your calves and drapes over your hips like the fabric was spun from pure light.

“Hello.” Ushijima talks first this time because if he doesn’t refocus his brain on something else he knows he won’t be able to stop staring.

“Hi! Sorry about that, uh, and I’m sure you have places to be, but, um, did I leave my cardigan at the greenhouse? I can’t find it, and I know I have a tendency to forget things, so,” you finish with a laugh, one hand fiddling with the rings on the other.

“Yes, you did. I put it on a shelf in case you came back.”

“Oh! That’s great!” You sound relieved, and Ushijima’s suddenly very grateful he didn’t take it down to the bio department’s lost and found like they’re technically supposed to. “Is there maybe a time I can come pick it up? When you’ll be there?”

“I’ll be there all day tomorrow, opening at nine.” 

He can’t tell if he sounds a little too eager, and he’s about to soften his meaning by telling you that they’re open today, too, and anyone can hand you a sweater, but you’re already smiling big and sunny and telling him,

“I’ll see you at nine, then. Do you drink coffee?”

He doesn’t; his coaches have always told him that caffeine can only harm his athletic performance.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then I’ll see you at nine, with coffee.”

Ushijima says goodbye and turns to wait at the crosswalk again while you swirl your way back to your seat and pick up your conversation with your friend. He can feel two pairs of eyes on him as he crosses the street, red numbers blinking down from ten, and can’t help but turn to look back as he steps onto the opposite sidewalk. Where your friend tactfully looks down into their cup of tea, you catch his eye with yours and wave. He lifts his hand halfway in a goodbye before an eighteen-wheeler stops at the intersection and blocks you from him.

Ushijima’s normal work attire is typical of an average agricultural biology student accustomed to being up to their elbows in dirt every day: practical cargo shorts, dirt-stained but sturdy sneakers, a “plant dad” t-shirt (a gift from Tendō when they’d said their goodbyes and gone away to college), and a soft cotton flannel. He’s usually satisfied with this for his shift at the greenhouse, expecting to be mud-covered at least up to his wrists by the end of the day.

But today… Today, he pauses in the dorm bathroom to scrub his face raw, and he clips and shapes his nails like his mother used to do for him every Saturday. He normally only does it before tournaments, now, and it calms his nerves to feel prepared for a Big Event, even if that event is only handing you your gently pilled cashmere cardigan and receiving a coffee he won’t drink in return.

The air that morning is heady with spring, earthy and alive, reminding Ushijima of lying beneath the hedge along his mother’s garden to pass notes to the girl next door. He was seven and she was nine, so naturally she knew everything he didn’t. She knew about the planets and why worms live in dirt and how to spell the word “catastrophe,” and Ushijima would’ve bet his whole weekly allowance that she was the coolest person in the world, if he knew what betting was. (She did, and once bet him half an ice cream sandwich that he couldn’t climb the oak tree in his backyard all the way to the top. He did, and then twisted his ankle on the way down, and she brought him an ice cream sandwich every day for a week as an apology.) She was all shiny, long black hair and dark eyes and fast words, nothing like the spring blooming around him.

You, on the other hand, are exactly the spring.

He stops at his favorite pastry place on the way to work to pick up two fresh cream donuts. The line is just dwindling from the height of the morning rush, so he manages to make it to the biology building just five minutes before he normally does.

Morning sun sends rainbows through the automatic misting spray as Ushijima unlocks the greenhouse door, letting a burst of humidity out into the rest of the building. The spiral-bound log book is there on the desk, a thick parchment bookmark sticking out from where whoever closed last night marked the page. 

Ushijima places his backpack and pastry bag on the desk and reaches to hang his key on its hook just when there’s a knock on the door.

“I know I’m early,” you start, edging your way into the room with a paper coffee cup in each hand. “But I saw it was already open, so...”

Ushijima smiles despite himself. In their second year Oikawa Tooru had told him that his smiles can be unnerving, but he can’t help it right now. You look so lovely today, in jeans and a silky tank top, with a certain morning tenderness in the way you hold yourself.

“It’s okay, come in. I just need to check the temperature controls and I’ll be done opening.”

“Sounds good,” you reply, smiling back.

As he makes his way to the temp controls on the Southern wall, you perch on the wooden stool and set down the coffee.

With his back turned to you for a moment, you allow yourself to slouch, planting two hands on the table and stretching your shoulders with a sigh. It’s earlier than you normally get out of bed, let alone actually leave your apartment, and you can already feel a quiet exhaustion setting into your bones.

But this is worth it, you remind yourself. Worth it to talk to the beautiful boy with broad shoulders and gentle hands.

He’d been unexpected. That first day in the greenhouse, you’d sat down with the intention to calm down from a tedious school day and nothing more. Your hands had moved of their own volition on that second drawing of the orange branch, scribbling out a hasty message that made your cheeks burn. But he was so present that day, in the corner of your eye but staying respectfully out of your space. And you’re not blind -- you saw the muscles under his shirt as he lifted an entire small tree in its pot. You saw the startling shade of green his eyes took on in the sun. You saw it all, and it drew you back, and now you’re here.

When he joins you back at the table, leaning back against it to face you, you stick out your hand and offer your name.

He looks at it for a moment, then back at you.

“I just, uh, realized we never properly introduced ourselves,” you explain, with a hesitant smile.

He smiles again and your heart thuds, then his big hand engulfs yours and he shakes it firmly.

“Wakatoshi. It’s nice to meet you.”

You learn in the following weeks of coming to the greenhouse that Wakatoshi doesn’t like coffee. But he does like tea and donuts, so that’s what you bring him on the mornings you can find it in you to wake up before nine. You sit with him in the greenhouse, talking and listening as he records data and waters plants and sits next to you on the quilt you’ve fallen into the habit of bringing. The occasional professor or student comes through, and you get to watch Wakatoshi show off his brains when he leaves you to help them.

There are several things you learn about him over those weeks. Number one: he never minces words. Two: he prefers grapefruit chapstick over anything else. And three: he kisses like it’s his last day on Earth.

You discover number three late one night when you decide to drop by after class, shooting him a text to make sure he’s still there. Today he’s closing instead of opening, and you missed spending your morning with him.

The city lights cast a different kind of glow at this time of night. They add a distance to everything that’s palpable as you drop your bag by the door.

“Toshi, are you here-- oh, hi.” You turn the corner to find him closing the door to the supply closet.

His cheekbones are highlighted briefly by a billboard outside flashing red.

“You should get some sleep.”

“I’m not tired. And I wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me?”

He takes a step towards you and you have to tilt your head back slightly to keep your eyes on his. They’re leaf green and unreadable.

“Yeah, uh,” you wet your lips with your tongue, “is that okay?”

“Yes.” He pauses for a long time, then, watching you carefully in the neon glow of the exit sign. His hand shakes as it reaches up to push your glasses from your face onto your head.

Without them, he looks fuzzy and soft around the edges.

He says, “Can I kiss you?” and it feels like there’s a bird trapped in your ribcage.

“Yes. Kiss me.”

Wakatoshi kisses nothing like you expected, all tongues and teeth and heavy fingers in the dip of your waist. He growls when you gasp and mewl against him, sucking on your lower lip as your hands find purchase in his shirt. He kisses you so absolutely breathless that you think you might pass out. Your knees buckle and you pull away, gasping with your eyes closed for a moment until you come back to yourself.

“Are you alright, little one?”

The endearment makes your cheeks flush with heat and your eyes snap open.

“Yes, I’m alright. Please do it again.”

And so he does it again, and again, and again until you find yourself bringing him home with you on the last bus that goes towards your neighborhood. He’s standing in the aisle, one hand wrapped around a pole and the other wound around you, who’s standing in front of him. He keeps you steady as the bus rounds a corner.

That night, you bring the peace of the greenhouse into your home, and the only thing you find yourself wishing for is that it never leaves.

[johnkrrasinski]

started from a call

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 3,610

Warning: angst with a happy ending! that's all.

Summary: written for @wkemeup's 9k writing challenge with the prompt "character a leaves an embarrassing, drunk message on character b’s voicemail and spends the rest of the night trying to discreetly delete it from [b]’s phone." inspired by a bit of ross and rachel from friends too. you found out from steve that bucky was in love with you in high school but after he returns home with a girl in his arm, you cancelled your plans to tell him how you feel. will you and bucky have your happy ending?

a/n: please like, reblog and leave a feedback. :) enjoy!

"Alright, I'll see you tonight. Bye." He leaned against the kitchen counter and hung up the phone with a grin on his face. "You hear that, Sam? We're going on our third date tonight." He threw his phone up into the air and caught it so casually without spilling a drop of his coffee sitting on his right hand. "Looks like I'm getting that 300 bucks soon."

"Hey, easy. You ain't going to that date yet, who knows? She could bail on you. It doesn't count if the date doesn't end well."

"Oh, but it will. I just gotta turn on my charm and next thing you know, we're already meeting the parents stage."

"Meeting the parents? That's a big step from you, Buck."

"Hey, I'm a man of my words. If I said that I'm going to change this year then I'm gonna stick to it."

"So Leah isn't just a one-time thing to get 300 bucks?"

"Maybe yes, maybe no. We'll see how tonight goes. But one thing's for sure is that I'm getting that 300 bucks."

Sam and Bucky made a bet as their New Year's resolution that Bucky would never go on a second date with any girl or remember to call her in the morning after a wild night. His commitment issues had given him a reputation as the player in the gang. It wasn't a new thing anymore to anyone that when they visited Bucky's place in the morning, they would see a girl with a dopey smile and slightly ruffled hair walking out of his apartment, giddy that Bucky just made a promise to call her later.

You, Natasha, Wanda, Sam and Steve were hanging out at Nat's place. The six of you had been friends since college. You, Nat, Bucky and Steve had known each other since high school and the four of you kept in touch despite going to separate universities. You met Wanda when you went to NYU and Steve met Sam while he was in Harvard. Long story short, after the four of you graduated, you and Wanda lived together as roommates and even started your own bakery business. Steve and Bucky lived in the same building as you and Natasha and Sam lived nearly alone. They were too independent for roommates. Don't even start on Natasha and how much she valued her personal space. That's how the six of you ended up here, gathered at your place on a Saturday afternoon.

"Are you gonna pick her up tonight?"

"Of course. Gonna clean up well, bring her some flowers and knock on her door at 7 pm precisely. Which girl isn't gonna fall for that?" Bucky walked over to the couch you and Nat were sitting on and leaned on the headrest, his arms caging both you and Natasha.

You didn't say anything nor did Natasha because she knew about your feelings for Bucky. Despite never feeling that way about Bucky in high school, your feelings changed a week ago after learning that Bucky used to be in love with you but never had the courage to tell you. That's why he never had a girlfriend during his high school years and he wanted to take you to prom and confess his feelings to you but he was too late. Another guy had already snooped in first.

You were his first love but it wasn't reciprocated until now. That's why in college, he learned how to get over you and slept with as many women as possible because he felt like he lost four years of his life of finding the one. He never intended to be a player and feed girls empty promises, it just kind of became his way of dating. He was too afraid that no one could live up to you yet he enjoyed being with women. Hence, the bet.

The day you found out from Steve about Bucky's past feelings for you while playing truth or dare, you immediately wanted to call him up but Bucky was out of town for a few days and as soon as he was back home, he had Leah in his arm. Your heart was crushed. Wanda told you that it would probably last for a few days and that he'd eventually be single again but you totally did not expect this thing to turn into something serious. You loved Sam with every fibre of your being, he was like the big brother you never had, but you wanted to curse him for making that bet.

So you just rolled your eyes and stayed silent throughout this entire conversation, even though your heart felt like it was being stabbed over and over again. "Alright, I gotta go. Got a big date tonight. I'll see you guys in a few hours." Just like that, Bucky walked out of the room without knowing the pain his words caused you.

The next day you were sitting in your bed watching The Notebook in your pyjamas because you were too heartbroken to do anything productive. It was Sunday so you could just have a whole day to yourself and do absolutely nothing but cry. Wanda knocked on your door bringing a plate of cookies and she had a pitiful look on her face. "y/n? Sweetie? I made you these cookies, they might make you feel better." Sometimes you thank the stars for bringing her into your life.

"Thank you, Wanda. You're so nice to me." You know you probably sound like a hormonal whiny kid but everything made you cry at the moment.

"Do you need anything else? I know how it feels to get your heartbroken, trust me. When me and Vision had a fight and we didn't talk for days all I wanted was to curl up and never leave my bed, so in case you need anything, I'm here." She offered you that warm smile of hers.

"No, all I want right now is to just eat these cookies and go back to my film, thanks Wan."

"Okay, I'll be outside." Your pity party was interrupted when Nat arrived in her leather jacket and burst into your room.

"Get up, you are taking a shower and you're getting that face beat."

"Natasha, what the hell? Leave me alone."

"Y/N, listen to me. I got a date for you. His name is Scott and he's a real nice guy, he's funny, he's a good friend of mine and he is really smart. He is so much better than Bucky, I promise you. Now c'mon, I already told him that you are meeting him tonight at Stark's restaurant at 7."

You whined, doing anything you can to get her to leave you alone with your tears and your cookies but you knew that once Natasha set her mind on something, there's no talking her way out of it. Damn that woman with her determination.

"Y/N, c'mon! Wallowing all day isn't you. I know you and what's good for you. That's why I found you a great guy who will charm you so good that you will forget Barnes even existed. You can't let him win, y/n. If he's going to be happy with someone else, then you better show him that you can be much happier with other people."

You stared at her, trying to absorb her words. There's some wisdom in that. You're not the type to cry over a guy, not even for even Bucky Barnes. So you let Natasha drag you to the shower and asked Wanda to do your hair when she does your makeup. She chose an outfit for you, a dress that was not too sexy but chic enough to leave a good first impression.

Scott was early to the restaurant and he looked elated to see you. He was wearing a grey suit with no tie and he had a really exuberant smile on his face, the type that drew people easily. You could see why Natasha called him a nice guy.

"Wow, sorry, I just- didn't expect you to be this beautiful."

"Ah, thank you, Scott. Have you been waiting long?"

"No, not at all. I just arrived here like five minutes ago."

The night went on and Scott did most of the asking and talking, you answered each question curtly with forced enthusiasm in your face and body language. You weren't even listening to half of the things he said because your mind kept playing images of Bucky with Leah and how you heard from Sam that the date went well so he lost 300 bucks. You kept thinking about Bucky and Leah and how they would probably get married and have kids and live in the suburbs with a golden retriever while you'd still be single and you'd compare every man you meet to Bucky. Maybe it was your karma for not reciprocating his feelings in high school.

Five glasses of wine and you spent more time nodding than talking. Honestly, all you wanted to do was to just go home and go back to The Notebook because their love story was much better than your love life. Scott woke you out of your daze, "Natasha told you that I was cuter than this, did she?" after you gulped your sixth glass of wine.

"Oh Scott, I'm so sorry. It's not you, it's me. I know it sounds cliche but it's just... I'm not in a place where I'm looking for a boyfriend. You are a really likeable guy and I swear, if we had met at another time, maybe I would be a better date but right now, I just- I have someone else in my mind." You sighed, it felt like a relief to get that off your chest.

"Is this guy... an ex-boyfriend?"

You chuckled, "no... He wishes."

Scott nodded, "look, I don't know what your situation is but I've been through a divorce and it's never easy. But eventually, you'll be fine. You can't see it now because you haven't had closure." Then it was as if the bulb above your head was turned on.

"That's it.  Closure, yeah. That's all I need. Okay, give me a minute. I'm gonna call him now and I'm going to get my closure."

Scott sat there watching you comically trying to find your phone in your purse and tapped on Bucky's contact number. The normal you would be sweating with every ring but intoxicated you had no worries in the world... For now.

"This is Bucky. Can't pick up right now, leave a message." Beep.

"Hello, yes, Bucky! Or James, should I call you James? I always thought Bucky was a weird name. Anyways, I'm just calling to tell you that I am fine and I am on a date with Scott. And speaking of dates, I just gotta tell you that I'm happy to hear that your date went well. And that, my friend, means that I am over you. That's right, I'm over you. Tell Leah I say hi." You said sarcastically.

You hung up the phone and threw your phone back into your purse. You felt like you just won a chess game.

The next morning you decided to sleep in because your heart was pounding and you could barely sit up without feeling like you might fall. You were supposed to be working at the bakery but since you owned the bakery, Wanda let you sleep it off until you recover. You couldn't remember anything from last night, how you got back to your apartment was a mystery. You tried to put the pictures together, from being forced to go on a date, meeting a guy named Sean? Simon? Sebastian? Scott! Yes, Scott. You ordered your meals and then... Nothing, it was all blurry. You weren't even sure if anything happened at all after eating your meals.

The apartment was empty because Wanda was working at the bakery and it was just you with your hangover pills. Bucky came to your apartment without knocking because Wanda told him on the phone that you were home. He greeted you with a smile and asked about your date.

"Uh, let's see. I think there was a restaurant, I know there was wine. And there's a guy, Scott and pretty much that's all I can recall."

Bucky made a yikes face. Seeing the state you were in, he could do the math (of the wine you had). You probably enjoyed the alcohol more than the guy. What a doofus, he thought. If he was the one going on a date with you, you'd definitely remember every detail from last night.

"Leah's downstairs and I'm taking her back to her place but I left my keys here last night. Have you seen it?"

"No, check the drawers. Maybe Wanda put 'em there."

"Ah, okay." He opened the drawers and found the keys to his bike.

"Did we... Speak on the phone last night?"

"Nope, my phone was dead and I didn't charge it all night so I haven't really checked it. Why?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's just... Never mind. My memories are a bit hazy right now. You should go, say hi to Leah for me."

Bucky nodded as you walked back to your room to go lie down. Your question reminded him that he should probably check his phone now because there could be work-related messages but the first thing he heard was a voicemail from you. "Oh, y/n. I got your message!"

That instantly stopped you in your tracks. Your eyes went wide and you froze. You immediately turned around and ran to grab his phone away from him. Bucky had a confused look on his face, "who's Scott?"

"Oh my God, no, Bucky, give me the phone. Give me the phone!" But it was already too late, he was already halfway through your voicemail and by the time you successfully snatched his phone out of his grasp, he had already heard every word.

Bucky stood there dumbfounded, he needed time to process everything you just said to him. "What do you- what do you mean you're over me?"

"Oh, God... Alright, um- lately, I've um- sort of, have... Feelings for you." You never had to chase a guy or confess your crush first so this felt new and my God, it was nerve-racking.

"You have feelings for me..." He said it as if he was convincing himself that his ears got it right. Bucky couldn't believe the words that just escaped through your lips, for years he had dreamed of this moment. Though never did he ever want you to make the first move but adolescent him wanted to hear you say what he'd been wanting to say to you too.

He didn't say anything for what felt like minutes and you couldn't decipher his thoughts from the look on his face. "I need to sit down," he pulled one of the dining chairs and leaned on his side in a defeated posture.

"Bucky... Please say something." You alerted him in a hushed tone, not wanting to startle him than you already did. But he didn't. He was lost at words. What the hell was he supposed to tell her?

"Look Bucky, I'm sorry for telling you this way but I had to. I just- I've been wanting to talk to you about it since you came back to New York, well- actually, since Steve told me but-"

"Whoa, Steve told you?!" He interrupted.

"Yeah, it just accidentally slipped when we were playing truth or dare..."

"Okay well," he stood up from his seat, yet he still couldn't look you in the eye. "I can't do this right now, Leah's waiting for me downstairs and I gotta go." He basically ran out of the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

Once your hangover had begun dissipating, you decided to help Wanda at the bakery and took the night shift. She must've been exhausted from managing the bakery alone while also helping the employees in the kitchen so you told her to go home and leave it to you. The bakery's usually slower at night.

When it was nearing closing time and your employees had gone home, you decided to clean up and turned off the lights and checked everything one last time before locking the door. The bell above the door dinged and you were slightly annoyed because who the hell comes to the bakery at this hour?

"I'm sorry we're clo...sed." It was Bucky. He stood there in a black coat, with an expression you still couldn't figure out. "Bucky, what are you-"

"You have no right to tell me that you've got feelings for me." His tone was harsh, he never spoke that way to you or anyone... Ever.

"What?"

He walked closer to you, maintaining his gaze, "You can not tell me that you've got feelings for me now when I'm doing well with my life and Leah..."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I was in love with you for years! Years, y/n! And you never said and did anything and now when everything's going well you're ruining it!"

"I am ruining it?" You repeated the question because you couldn't believe what you just heard. How dare he said those hurtful things to you.

"Yes! I was doing fine with Leah and now I don't know what's going to happen with me and her anymore..."

"Yeah, well, I was doing fine before I found out that YOU were in love with me and never had the balls to tell me!" You did everything you could to not cry, you hated crying in the middle of an argument.

"Hey, it's not like I didn't try. There were your ex-boyfriends and your dates and I had to move on. I couldn't wait forever! And now, now you're too late."

"Oh, so what? You're just gonna walk away and pretend that this never happened?"

"Yes, I'm going to do exactly that and I'm going to go see Leah." He turned around like he did earlier in your apartment and left you alone once again with your heartbreak.

"Fine! Go ahead and see Leah because I don't give a fuck about cowards like you or whoever you sleep with." You slammed the door and tried everything you could to not have a breakdown here because you really hated letting an argument hurt you. You sat on one of the chairs where the customers would sit and you hid your face with your hands and cried.

Not because you just lost an argument but because of what Bucky said and it felt like you had lost Bucky before you even had him. Now there was no hope left for you and Bucky, things were too complicated.

You didn't know how long you had cried there, alone, in the dimmed lighting of your shop but after you felt like the tears had dried, you wiped the traces of your tears from your cheeks with the back of your thumb. You stood from your seat and was ready to go home. You couldn't wait to eat some leftover pizzas, take a warm shower and cry into your pillows until you fall asleep.

But when you were about to leave, you saw Bucky standing on the other side of the door, watching you through the windows with a softer expression on his face. You opened the door and Bucky instantly grabbed your waist and kissed you as if his life depended on it.

You gave in to his kiss, letting him pour every desire and yearning into your lips for as long as he wanted. You grabbed his face because you wanted him impossibly closer and you shut your eyes, letting your guard down. Because it was Bucky, and you'd known him for as long as you could remember and you both deserved this moment.

Bucky eventually pulled away until both of you were running out of air. You were breathless from his kiss, you never knew he was such a good kisser. (It's Bucky and he's had a lot of women on his bed, of course, he was excellent at it. Who were you kidding?) But now that you've had your own front-row experience, you felt a tad of possessiveness at the thought of sharing those lips or any part of him with anyone else.

"I couldn't go back to her knowing you are here alone and I had thrown away what I've wanted for as long as I could remember."

"I'm glad you came back." You pressed your foreheads and you rested your hands on his chest. You could get used to this.

"I hope it's not too late to say this but, y/n y/l/n, will you let me take you to dinner and see a movie after maybe?"

"I wasn't the one who said it's too late," you halfheartedly teased him.

"Shut up, so is that a yes or a no?"

You bit your lip and nodded, "yes. Definitely a yes." You stared into his ocean blue eyes, so deep and beautiful, you could easily get lost in it.

"y/n y/ln, I'm going to put all of your ex-boyfriends to shame."

"Hm, we'll see about that." You put your arms around his neck. Then a thought crossed your mind and your smile faded away, "what are you gonna do about Leah though?"

"I'll talk to her in the morning. Let's take you home now, yeah? It's getting late."

You bit your lip and nodded, "okay."

Ninth grade you dreamed of popular jocks and athletic seniors, but little did you know that, sometimes, the one who sincerely loved you was the book nerd who loved The Hobbit a little too much.