#warm sunny February day

[bas-rouge]

I should get puppy a valentines outfit that would be so fun and cute plus our first show is valentines day weekend. I love to spend my money responsibly

[essektheylyss]

It's 55 and sunny and warm enough to sit out on my porch like a basking cat and I might cry with joy.

[daddy-long-legssss]

when it’s above 5 degrees and sunny outside, ‘suck it and see’ is playing all day. i don’t make the rules, i just follow them.

[charulein]

It's February why is my sad acting up

[reasonsforhope]

As relentless rains pounded LA, the city’s “sponge” infrastructure helped gather 8.6 billion gallons of water—enough to sustain over 100,000 households for a year.

Earlier this month, the future fell on Los Angeles. A long band of moisture in the sky, known as an atmospheric river, dumped 9 inches of rain on the city over three days—over half of what the city typically gets in a year. It’s the kind of extreme rainfall that’ll get ever more extreme as the planet warms.

The city’s water managers, though, were ready and waiting. Like other urban areas around the world, in recent years LA has been transforming into a “sponge city,” replacing impermeable surfaces, like concrete, with permeable ones, like dirt and plants. It has also built out “spreading grounds,” where water accumulates and soaks into the earth.

With traditional dams and all that newfangled spongy infrastructure, between February 4 and 7 the metropolis captured 8.6 billion gallons of stormwater, enough to provide water to 106,000 households for a year. For the rainy season in total, LA has accumulated 14.7 billion gallons.

Long reliant on snowmelt and river water piped in from afar, LA is on a quest to produce as much water as it can locally. “There's going to be a lot more rain and a lot less snow, which is going to alter the way we capture snowmelt and the aqueduct water,” says Art Castro, manager of watershed management at the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power. “Dams and spreading grounds are the workhorses of local stormwater capture for either flood protection or water supply.”

Centuries of urban-planning dogma dictates using gutters, sewers, and other infrastructure to funnel rainwater out of a metropolis as quickly as possible to prevent flooding. Given the increasingly catastrophic urban flooding seen around the world, though, that clearly isn’t working anymore, so now planners are finding clever ways to capture stormwater, treating it as an asset instead of a liability. “The problem of urban hydrology is caused by a thousand small cuts,” says Michael Kiparsky, director of the Wheeler Water Institute at UC Berkeley. “No one driveway or roof in and of itself causes massive alteration of the hydrologic cycle. But combine millions of them in one area and it does. Maybe we can solve that problem with a thousand Band-Aids.”

Or in this case, sponges. The trick to making a city more absorbent is to add more gardens and other green spaces that allow water to percolate into underlying aquifers—porous subterranean materials that can hold water—which a city can then draw from in times of need. Engineers are also greening up medians and roadside areas to soak up the water that’d normally rush off streets, into sewers, and eventually out to sea...

To exploit all that free water falling from the sky, the LADWP has carved out big patches of brown in the concrete jungle. Stormwater is piped into these spreading grounds and accumulates in dirt basins. That allows it to slowly soak into the underlying aquifer, which acts as a sort of natural underground tank that can hold 28 billion gallons of water.

During a storm, the city is also gathering water in dams, some of which it diverts into the spreading grounds. “After the storm comes by, and it's a bright sunny day, you’ll still see water being released into a channel and diverted into the spreading grounds,” says Castro. That way, water moves from a reservoir where it’s exposed to sunlight and evaporation, into an aquifer where it’s banked safely underground.

On a smaller scale, LADWP has been experimenting with turning parks into mini spreading grounds, diverting stormwater there to soak into subterranean cisterns or chambers. It’s also deploying green spaces along roadways, which have the additional benefit of mitigating flooding in a neighborhood: The less concrete and the more dirt and plants, the more the built environment can soak up stormwater like the actual environment naturally does.

As an added benefit, deploying more of these green spaces, along with urban gardens, improves the mental health of residents. Plants here also “sweat,” cooling the area and beating back the urban heat island effect—the tendency for concrete to absorb solar energy and slowly release it at night. By reducing summer temperatures, you improve the physical health of residents. “The more trees, the more shade, the less heat island effect,” says Castro. “Sometimes when it’s 90 degrees in the middle of summer, it could get up to 110 underneath a bus stop.”

LA’s far from alone in going spongy. Pittsburgh is also deploying more rain gardens, and where they absolutely must have a hard surface—sidewalks, parking lots, etc.—they’re using special concrete bricks that allow water to seep through. And a growing number of municipalities are scrutinizing properties and charging owners fees if they have excessive impermeable surfaces like pavement, thus incentivizing the switch to permeable surfaces like plots of native plants or urban gardens for producing more food locally.

So the old way of stormwater management isn’t just increasingly dangerous and ineffective as the planet warms and storms get more intense—it stands in the way of a more beautiful, less sweltering, more sustainable urban landscape. LA, of all places, is showing the world there’s a better way.

-via Wired, February 19, 2024

[kitasuno]

with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader

in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.

wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff

Miya Osamu is used to coming second. 

It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and he’s a little underweight, but with him comes the sun. 

Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight. 

Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumu’s sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.

He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.

Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.

They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says, 

‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much? 

And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother. 

Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him. 

But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him. 

Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.

His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him. 

He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts. 

“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?” 

His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule. 

He meets you for the first time in February. 

You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession. 

You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them. 

You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r. 

He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later. 

He sees you a lot the year after. 

You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side. 

With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch. 

Osamu means To Rule.

The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother. 

He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation. 

Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 

It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. 

Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his. 

But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful. 

“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”

He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him. 

“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi. 

“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.” 

It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri. 

He also knows that if his name means To Rule, he’s okay with coming second if it means you’re by his side.

[travelmanposts]

Sydney Summer, Sydney, Australia: Summer in Australia falls between the months of December and February. It brings sunny, warm days that are best spent at one of the country's gorgeous beaches... Sydney is the capital city of the state of New South Wales and the most populous city in Australia. Located on Australia's east coast, the metropolis surrounds Sydney Harbour and extends about 80 km from the Pacific Ocean in the east to the Blue Mountains in the west, and about 80 km from the Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park and the Hawkesbury River in the north and north-west, to the Royal National Park and Macarthur in the south and south-west. Wikipedia

[lazycats-stuff]

Since Christmas is coming up, I wanted to request that Aussie reader that gets rly annoyed because he has to celebrate Christmas in the winter and not the summer with prawns and pavlova.

Just batbro getting so pouty because it’s cold and snowy (idk I haven’t rly been in snow) and hates it.

Also wanted to ask you, what season are you celebrating in? Summer or Winter? You don’t have to answer but I’m just curious.

Well my anon... Christmas is long gone, but that doesn't mean we can't have Christmas! Although I am the Grinch, but hey. Also, I celebrate Christmas during the winter, but it's been years since it snowed on Christmas... Also, this gif is adorable. And cool. And thank you all for 1.7k followers... The fact you like my writing is still a mind blowing thing to me.

Summary: (Y/N) is Australian who celebrates Christmas during the winter. He hates it.

Warnings: minor swearing, (Y/N) is grumpy, the fam is amused.

Being from Australia made someone a bit more tougher when it came to certain things. Such as snakes and spiders. (Y/N) was used to them and considered them roommates sometimes. Of course, moving from Australia to the good ol' US of A, wasn't an easy change. First one being the ruckus and sensitivity about alcohol.

While being 18, you can enlist in the army and die for your country, but can't drink? (Y/N) thought it was ridiculous. Despite still being underage, but legally an adult, he loved to sip some wine and beer... But Alfred and Bruce always made a ruckus about it. (Y/N) thought that Alfred would be on his side since Alfred is from the UK and they also drink underage...

(Y/N) has never felt so betrayed before.

Secondly, the summers were bad in Australia, especially on the coastal areas of Australia. (Y/N) grew up in Sydney and summers were pretty hellish back there. Here? For Australian standards, these Gotham summers are bearable. Sure, the summers may be from December to February. Yes, Australia has it all flipped around.

(Y/N)'s brothers thought that he was insane with how well he was handling the heat well. (Y/N) never told them that the heat in Sydney was that bad, but the outback and the central parts of Australia are hell on Earth. As if (Y/N) would reveal his secret. The temperatures were perfect...

But there was only slight issue with living in the USA as an Australian. Only one. It's a pretty big one as well.

Everyone knows that Australians celebrate their Christmas during their summer. A summer that begins in the month of December and where people are actually on the beach, enjoying the warm weather with their favorite classic desserts, one of the best examples being a cake called Pavlova.

That is also (Y/N)'s favorite dessert and often makes it when he wants to feel like Christmas is coming. Especially during the summer when he knew that he couldn't celebrate Christmas during the warm weather. That was his substitute Christmas. Winters in Gotham... Well...

He didn't like it. At all. He absolutely hated it. December should be warm, sunny, warm enough so you can go out and enjoy the warmth, maybe even swim! Make snowmen out of sand... Well, then they would be called sandmen. (Y/N) was depressed and sad, to say the least. You know the term seasonal depression?

(Y/N) felt it every single time when December rolled around. Instead of a beautiful sunny day, day filled with warmth, spent on a beach, not bundled in milion layers of clothes...

Not this Gotham winter... Not this snow either. (Y/N) absolutely hated it. Absolutely. While the entire America was looking forward to Christmas, (Y/N) was grumbling in his room, looking out the window, the way that the snow fell. (Y/N) frowned.

At this time, in Australia, he would be eating his Pavlova and his beloved prawns. That's what he would be doing... Just sunbathing. Making sandmen. Eating his beloved Pavlova... And his prawns...

He prefers warmth over this stupid snow. He would give anything to go back to Australia, to Sydney and enjoy Christmas on a sunny beach... Maybe he can take one of Bruce's private jets... Pull something off as well... But only Bruce is allowed to even use them and has numbers of the pilots...

And where is (Y/N) going to find a pilot? Craigslist?

Hell no.

So he quietly puts up with it. December, with January and February, are the hottest months in Australia... And here, on the other side of the world, they are the coldest.

And that's why (Y/N) was moping the kitchen while the rest of the family decorated the tree. He hated this festive feeling in this cold weather.

His Australian mind couldn't comprehend this. Just... Happy in the cold? What is that type of bullshit?

" (Y/N)? Why are you moping? And why do you look so sad, as if someone killed something you enjoy? " Bruce asked as he came into the kitchen, getting a cup of coffee.

" Someone did kill something I enjoy. " (Y/N) muttered.

" Oh? " Bruce asked, smile appearing behind his mug, knowing exactly what (Y/N) was talking about, but choose to stay quiet about it. " And what that might be? " Bruce asked, making (Y/N) scoff.

" You know exactly what I mean B and what makes me so pissed during this winter. " (Y/N) grumbled, crossing his arms.

" Well, it's not my problem that Australia is so messed up. " Bruce said and (Y/N) raised his eyebrows.

" The hell is that supposed to mean? " (Y/N) asked, not sure to be offended or amused, since Australia is pretty weird, that much was true.

" The seasons are all twisted. Australian summer is in the winter months, the winter is in summer months... You get my gist. " Bruce said and (Y/N) scoffed. " And besides, what is so bad about snow? " Bruce added, making (Y/N) scoff even louder.

" What is so bad about snow? It's cold, it melts, it's not fun, it's gross... Do you want me to keep going? It's better when I was back in Australia, celebrating it on the beach, in the sand... " (Y/N) stated and Bruce laughed, ruffling (Y/N)'s hair.

" I know, I know. But it's not that bad here. Snow is not that bad. Sure it is the pure opposite of sand and it's warmth during the summer. You can make snow angels, snowmen, throw snowballs at your brothers... " Bruce said, trying to appease to (Y/N).

" Well, I can't go swim can I? Everything is cold and frozen. I can't do anything in the snow. I can only freeze to death and stay inside. " (Y/N) grumbled, still not happy with this type of Christmas. " It's bullshit. That's what it is. "

" You are lucky that Alfred isn't here, otherwise you would have gotten an Alfred glare for that swearing. " Bruce said, sipping more of his coffee. " Also, is some sort of coldness really that bad? Is snow that bad? " Bruce asked, making (Y/N) laugh.

" For an Australian, snow on Christmas is sacrilegious. Like, a cardinal sin. We celebrate the Christmas on our beaches, during hot weather. Not during this snow and winter... Complete and utter bullshit this is."

" You just need to adjust. " Bruce said and (Y/N) rolled his eyes, just as everyone else walked in.

" Oh (Y/N), snow is not that bad on Christmas. " Jason stated.

" It is! " (Y/N) retorted.

Tim and Dick chuckled and Damian shook his head in amusement.

" I can't believe that you can't understand me! " (Y/N) whined and Damian chuckled quietly.

And that's how the evening was spent, teasing (Y/N) about his hatred for snow. And they even let (Y/N) put the star on the top of the tree.

" Come on, lets watch Home alone. " Bruce said, patting a spot on the couch next to him. (Y/N) laughed sarcastically, but he complied, making sure to wrap himself in a warm blanket, making sure to have his beloved Pavlova nearby. "

" I want my prawns tomorrow. " (Y/N) stated out of nowhere, making everyone laugh.

" Of course, I'll get some for you. " Bruce said, putting his arm over (Y/N)'s shoulders, making sure to bring him closer, to try and give him some comfort.

" Wait, where is Alfred? " (Y/N) asked, confused.

" Went home to see his family. " Bruce explained briefly.

" Ah. "

[belle--ofthebrawl]

SUNNY DAZE

Summary: Mist's heat just won't break and Sunny's just the girl for the job!

Contains Mist's control issues she definitely didn't pass down to Dew, Alpha and Omega existing and maybe even being useful, Transfem Sunny.

Part Two of whatever to Femslash February!

Sunshine's walking down the hallway, whistling a little tune with her hands in her pockets when she catches the scent. Like the crest of a wave over hot sand, sea spray in the air. A deeper, richer scent under that, musky and inviting. She looks around, face warming with delight when she realizes what it is. Someone's in heat, she thinks giddily. First come, first served and there was no one else around.

So where was the scent coming from? She stands on her tiptoes, sniffs the air and strangely, it's fainter. So she crouches low, where it's stronger, puts her hands on the ground and looks around until she spots the grate of an air vent, blowing more of that irresistible call into the air.

Someone's in heat and being very creative about advertising it. A water ghoul, obviously, Sunny thinks as she straightens up and keeps walking at a quicker pace. Weren't many in the Ministry at the moment and Rain smelled more of petrichor when he went into heat. The other two just had theirs, which left...

She skips a little, pumping her fist in the air when she realizes it's gotta be Mist. Sunny's been waiting for a chance with the cute little bassist for ages, ever since Dewdrop introduced them. Mist had actually kissed the back of Sunny's hand when Sunshine stuck hers out with hope of shaking it. She'd felt those cool lips on her skin for days and Cumulus had teased her about it for even longer.

("Total size queen, worse than Dew." She'd confided, configuring her hands in such a way that it would be anatomically impossible to fit something of that size and length without rearranging a few organs. Sunshine told her as much in fewer words.

"Oh yeah? Why do you think Alpha and Omega always bend to her every whim?" Cumulus leaned closed and nudged Sunshine with an elbow and a wink. "Kidding. No one's as bad as Dew.")

She's not going to let this slip between her fingers. Whatever she was about to do can wait; somewhere in the Ghoul's wing is a needy little water devil and Sunny is nothing but chivalrous. She thinks she knows where Mist’s room is, but after enough time walking around aimlessly and keeping an eye out for anyone else who might have picked up the trail, the scent starts to permeate the air, thicker and thicker. Following her nose leads her to the last door at the end of a hallway reserved for the older ghouls.

It's quiet on the other side when Sunny knocks, a light flurry of her knuckles against the wood. She can smell the heat in full through the cracks in the frame, a tease of what she would find if allowed to come inside.

"Coming," Calls a faint voice, from further within and Sunny bites her lip to stop herself from making an incredibly crude reply. This might not be her first impression but it’s going to be the biggest one that counts. She grabs her tail to stop it from wagging ridiculously as the door opens.

"Oh, good." Mist says, her hungry blue eyes roaming up and down Sunny's body. She resists the urge to cross her arms, show off those biceps she'd been getting from hauling equipment from set-up to tear down all the time. Mist obviously already likes what she sees.

"Get in.”

Sunshine barely resists the urge to squeal when a small hand breaches the space between them and yanks her in by the collar. The door's left open by an inch but she doesn't care. She got here first; the rest can form a line.

"Useless," Mist mutters as Sunshine steps into the dark room, warm and smelling heavily of sex and for a moment, Sunny's hurt, thinking it's directed towards her but, no. It's directed at the pair of worn looking ghouls cuddled up on the enormous mattress, stripped bare save for a waterproof protector and pillows. "Always letting your mouth write checks your body can't cash."

"Then sit on my face," Alpha says earnestly, though he sounds exhausted. Omega shushes him, goes back to grooming the larger Ghoul's hair with slow, careful passes of his hands and a hazy expression. She doesn't look at them for long though; her attention is fully on the sway of Mist's hips and tail ahead of her, so soft-looking and grab-able that it makes Sunny ache all over.

"See what I mean?" Mist says, stretching herself out next to them but far enough away that they can't reach out and touch her. She lounges against the pillows, splaying her thighs wide and oh...

She's so wet and creamy it's running down her thighs in little rivulets, her cunt a deep angry red that looks painful and used but the way Mist spreads herself for Sunny's eyes, shameless and wanton makes it clear her heat isn't even close to being over.

Sunny does a little hopskip to get out of her pants in record time, even if her hands tremble a bit when Mist starts rubbing her fat little clit, squirting out cum with every clench of her hole. Pants discarded, Sunny clambers up on the bed over the little water ghoul, bracing her forearms on either side of Mist's delicate shoulders, admiring the very focused frown and the red cheeks as Mist keeps touching herself, so wet she can hear it.

She can't help herself; she has to go in for a kiss, a quick smooch that Mist gasps into as Sunny grinds the wet head of her cock over the hot, slippery folds, feeling the skin slide around her.

"Oh, she's sweet," Omega says with a note of approval.

"Nice cock." Alpha mutters with what could possibly be jealousy and yelps when Omega nips his ear.

"Shut it." Mist says tartly, still in control even as Sunny ruts against her, getting her dick wet with the slick dripping out, torn between watching the expression on Mist’s face and the way she's touching herself, getting her nipples nice and perky for Sunny, before she's skittering them down her abdomen and parting her folds in a clear signal for Sunny to get the fuck on with it.

“Okay,” she says to herself, gripping the base of her cock. “Just let me-”

Mist is too impatient. As soon as she feels the tip rubbing against her hole, she's grabbing Sunny and yanking her, forcing her to sink deep on the first slide. Sunny yelps as her cock throbs hard, swallowed up by Mist’s body. Sharp nails dig into the skin of her hips as Mist pushes her out, then guides her back in again.

“Like this,” Mist says, jerking Sunny in. Her legs lock tight, to keep Sunny from moving any way Mist doesn't want her to. “This is the pace I want. Got it?”

“Uh-huh-” Sunny whimpers, dropping her head as she helplessly obeys. She can do this, she can so do this. Slow and steady as she draws her cock out, making Mist feel every inch on the slide, bucking right back in as soon as she feels the rim squeeze her head. Mist makes a sharp, pleasant sound when Sunny strokes over something good and she does it again. Tries to focus on eking out as many pretty little noises out of the demanding water ghoulette as she can. She’s here for Mist, she can’t blow thirty seconds in, it’s not like she’s Dew or anything. She’s got stamina.

But is it enough? Sunny’s no stranger to being watched while she’s fucking someone, but Alpha and Omega are nearly asleep when she throws a quick glance their way and feels a faint tingle of dread deep in the back of her mind. Only to have Mist’s hand grab her chin and force her to look back, see the frustrated expression on her face.

“Make me cum.” She says through her grit teeth, dangerous light flashing in her eyes and Sunny swallows thickly, hips stammering in their smooth rhythm. Mist makes her nod in understanding before her legs lock tight, pulling Sunny in just so Mist can use her free hand to shove her back out. Sunny strains against her grip, bowing her head and panting heavily. Focuses on moving right, hitting where Mist wants her to and ignoring the way her balls are hitching up tighter and higher after only a few minutes in her pussy. Even warmed and used by others it's nearly too good and Sunny breathes a silent sigh of relief that she wasn't Mist’s first because that would just be way too much to handle.

She dares a peek at Mist and it breaks her heart to see how frustrated the ghoulette looks. She knows that tension all too well, needing pleasure but never getting enough. Nothing felt right, though it all felt good. If she looks close she thinks she sees the glimmer of a tear and it's a moment of vulnerability that sends Sunny reeling. She stops, keeping her cock head pressed firm to a spot that has Mist’s legs shaking and her head rolling side to side as she rubs at her clit in vain.

"Move!” Mist snarls but Sunny pushes her down with a forearm across her chest and shifts her knees to hit that much deeper.

“It's distracting you.” She says with a shaky voice. She clears her throat and doesn't look at the way the older ghouls are watching her with interest. “Everything is distracting you, isn't it?”

“Bad time to talk.” Mist grits out, cracking her eye open to glare at Sunny with barely repressed hatred. But she's spent enough time with Swiss to know when something has to be needles. To be poked and prodded until the emotions burst and the real care could begin. Mist’s pathological need to control everything during her heat has her wound up like a guitar strung too tight.

“So don't talk.” Sunny snaps and claps her palm over Mist’s mouth. “Just lay there and take it like you're supposed to.”

Mist's scream of fury is muffled by Sunny’s hand and it takes all her strength to stay on as Mist tries to fight her off. There it is, there's that energy she wasn't letting go of. All of it needed to come out before Sunny could do her job as stud correctly. The hand not holding her face wraps around her throat and dances over her gills, getting the nerves there all worked up as her cock sits fat and ready in the hole it's about to break and fill with her load.

“This is for your own good.” Sunny tells her. “You might have your boys dog walked but you just need a woman's touch, don't you sweetie?”

“Can we help?” Comes Alpha’s voice and Sunny gives him her brightest grin.

“Of course you can.” She says. “I need her legs over my shoulders and someone to pin her arms down.”

They listen like the good boys they are. Not entirely useless. Mist tries to bite when Sunny takes her hand off but it's easy enough to change her tune when Sunny has her in a proper mating press. Heat was all about being receptive; no wonder the poor thing was having such a hard time breaking it when she refused to calm down and let herself be taken care of. She might be as big as the older ghouls but it's hard to deny how small Mist is when she's near folded in half in the center of their bodies. She needed this. Needed the overwhelm.

“Would you mind-” Sunny starts and grins manically as quintessence starts to prickle in her nerves.

“Fight it.” She says to Mist as the threat of blowing too early recedes like the tide. She could do this for hours now. “I want you to fight it and I want you to know you're going to lose anyway.”

Mist blinks and the way she clenches hard around Sunny's cock, a lewd mix of old cum and fresh slick leaking hot on her balls tells her she made the right choice after all.

[ralkana]

Fluffbruary, Day 3

February 3: umbrella | seashore | mist

Dream of the Endless / Hob Gadling

Rated G

-----

They are in the Dreaming. His stranger has returned to him, and called him friend, named himself Dream, and they have since met a score of times. They have exchanged stories, traded smiles, shared wine and confidences, and his stranger, his friend, Dream, expressed a wish to show Hob his home. His realm.

So here they stand. He knows he is curled up on his bed in his flat, sleeping deeply, but he is also here. A beautiful sunny day, a gorgeous meadow, a light breeze.

"How does it work?" Hob asks, curious, always curious, and even more so when it comes to anything to do with his friend, his - well. Anything to do with Dream.

"You are a dreamer, and you are here at my request," Dream tells him. "This world, my realm, is for the dreamers. You only need wish, and whatever you wish for will be at hand."

"But you - you've said you are the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is you."

"Yes. That is a simplified answer, but fundamentally correct."

Hob grins. "I'm a simple man, my friend."

Dream's smile is small but fond. "You are anything but, Hob Gadling."

"So if you are the Dreaming, and I ask for something, it is you who provides it, yes?"

" - Yes." Dream's hesitation is brief, so brief it might be missed by anyone who hasn't spent every minute in his presence hungrily studying him. "If I so choose."

"Hmm," Hob says, considering. He does not wish to ask for anything his friend might not freely give. He has wondered lately, what the limits there might be. He thinks those limits may have changed, might be changing still.

In the real world - in the waking, he thinks carefully, a concept Dream has taught him. This world he inhabits now is no less real. In the waking, it is midwinter, cold and dreary, and he has longed for a reprieve.

"This is the kind of day fit for a warm summer rainstorm," he says, and laughs in delight as the clear sky slowly fills with clouds, wispy at first and then heavy with promise. There is a rumble of distant thunder, and then the patter of gentle rain.

Hob laughs again and lifts his face to it, closing his eyes as he feels the raindrops slide through his hair, caress his cheeks.

He opens his eyes, eager to see his friend in the rain, to see it slide down his nose, drip off his chin. Dream, of course, is completely dry in the midst of the rain, though it puddles at his feet and bends the grass around him.

"You are a wonder," Hob says, in awe of the power his friend so casually displays.

Dream's eyes widen at the words, and his fond smile tucks slightly, almost shy. Diffident, it would have been called once - that word has mostly fallen out of favor, and Hob could never have imagined it applied to his stranger. But this is no longer his stranger.

"Should you not wish for an umbrella, now?" Dream asks, his voice catching as Hob lifts his arms to the sky, runs his fingers through his dripping hair. "Or shelter from the rain?"

"No," Hob tells him, watching him through the rain, feeling it settle into his clothes, the drops sliding down his body. "I want to feel it on my skin."

You are the Dreaming, he thinks. And the Dreaming is you. I want to feel you on my skin.

Dream draws in a sharp breath, and Hob shivers as he watches his eyes darken, grow hungry. His long fingers flutter, as if to reach, to clutch, before curling into fists. Holding himself back. Denying himself.

There is no need for that, my Dream, he thinks.

"I wish," he says, but he falters. He is sure. He is sure of what he wants, and he is sure of what Dream wants, but he was sure before, and the cost was great.

Cool fingers brush his cheek, and he gasps. Dream is so near Hob can see the glitter of galaxies in his eyes. The rain falls on him now, in his dark lashes and on the pale perfection of his skin.

"What do you wish for?" Dream murmurs, his voice so low it feels like it is merely an ache in Hob's chest.

Everything you wish to give, he thinks.

"A kiss," he says, and the sun breaks through the clouds once more as their lips meet.

END

-----

Thanks to @fluffbruary for the inspiration!

[kathlare]

cost of fame

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: What starts as a casual shopping trip quickly turns into chaos as fans recognize Amelie, and the crowd outside grows larger by the minute.

Wordcount: 1.8 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

February 5th, 2025 - Barcelona, Spain

liked by f1gossipage, lanelienation, and others

amelienation: 👀 Looks like Amelie was out in Barcelona today, soaking in the sun and making new friends! Spotted taking photos with fans while strolling around the city with Lando, Oscar, and Lily. 🛍️ Seems like they're living their best life, enjoying a little downtime before the next big race! 🌟

View all 1,694 comments

sarahh_lopez23: I literally saw them at Passeig de Gràcia today!! They were so cute together 🥺💖 → mattsmithfan: @sarah_lopez23 I swear Amelie & Lando's energy just hits different!! 😍💫

f1fam: Lando's probably carrying her shopping bags too 😏 → alexa_17: @f1fam I bet he was! This man will never miss an opportunity to be extra cute.

katie_fan123: I love how Lando's always by her side 😂 like the definition of “ride or die” 💀🔥 → spencertracy: @katie_fan123 Yeah, he's definitely whipped, but who wouldn't be with Amelie? 😏

sarahsoulxx: Why is Lando so clingy though? Like can she breathe for a second?? 😭

mariayass: AMELIE!!! I am on my way to Barcelona!!! Hope I can meet her 😍

sashasoccerfan: WAIT. Did anyone else spot them at El Corte Inglés?? My friend said she saw them taking pictures. 😭😭 → juanita94: @sarahsoccerfan I swear I just saw them in front of the Gucci store. I'm not missing this. On my way now!! 👀

lilysbiggestfan: The papaya girls are BACK!! Let's goooo! 😍🍊💖

lilysweetheart: Just saw them in the city center! Lando was holding a giant shopping bag for her, it's like he can’t let her carry anything, lol 🥴💀 → lexxi_babe: @lilysweetheart omg same!!! Lando is literally her personal bodyguard and shopper 💅🏻

hater87: Ugh, they’re like... always together. Boring. 🙄 → f1fan88: @hater87 ...You’re just mad you don’t have someone like Lando, it's ok, we get it 🤷‍♀️

isabell_squad: I’m in Barcelona right now!!! Crossing my fingers to bump into them 😭💖 → juliaperez21: @isabell_squad Let me know if you spot them!! I’m already planning my way there 😜

kristin44: She's literally such an icon. I’m so jealous right now 😭

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

Lando had barely finished tying his sneakers when he felt Amelie’s hand slip into his, a familiar warmth shooting up his arm. He turned, flashing her a quick grin. The kind of grin that said he was happy to be on the road with her, happy to spend the last few days before their schedules took them in opposite directions.

Barcelona was sunny and busy, the streets buzzing with tourists and locals alike, the air alive with laughter and the clink of glasses from nearby cafés. Lando glanced at Amelie, feeling that familiar flutter in his chest. Even when they were just walking around like any other couple—holding hands, sharing jokes—it felt like a perfect moment.

Oscar and Lily had tagged along with them, their easy-going presence making the day even more fun. Amelie, as usual, was dressed effortlessly cool—denim jacket, black jeans, and a pair of sunglasses perched on top of her head. She looked stunning, but that wasn’t new.

They walked through the bustling streets of Barcelona, weaving through the crowd, as the sun bathed everything in a warm glow. Oscar and Lily, who had been quiet up ahead, suddenly slowed down as Lando’s attention was completely stolen by Amelie. Her head turned this way and that, scanning the shops that lined the street, and Lando couldn’t help but admire how naturally she fit in here.

—What do you think of this place?— Amelie asked, nudging him with her shoulder and flashing a playful grin.

Lando chuckled, looking up at the brightly painted boutique they were passing. —Looks good. I think you’ll look great in whatever you pick out.—

She gave him a sidelong glance, the corner of her lips twitching upward. —Flattery, Lan? Or are you just trying to get me to buy you more stuff?—

He shot her a cheeky wink. —Maybe a little of both, Ames. But mostly, I just want to see you looking even hotter than usual. Is that so wrong?—

Her laughter rang out, and just like that, a couple of people recognized her. One woman stopped in her tracks, eyes wide.

—Amelie Dayman?—

Before Lando could react, the woman had pulled out her phone, asking for a quick selfie.

Amelie smiled warmly, and though Lando noticed her slightly stiffening under the sudden attention, she agreed. —Yeah, of course!—

Lando took a step back, letting her do her thing. Fans were part of the deal, and Amelie had gotten used to it over the years, though sometimes Lando knew it could still overwhelm her. She’d been in the public eye since she was young, after all, and it wasn’t always easy for her to balance that with her personal life.

Oscar and Lily exchanged glances but made no move to stop, clearly used to this by now too.

As they stepped into the store, it became obvious that Amelie was a magnet for attention. No matter how hard the shop owner tried to keep the space calm, word had spread that the Amelie Dayman was inside. People lingered outside, peeking through the glass windows, hoping for a glimpse.

Lando raised an eyebrow as he watched a small group gather outside the store, their eyes fixed on the window. He knew Amelie was famous—hell, everyone did. But sometimes, it was easy to forget just how much of a spectacle her presence could cause. He slid a hand into his pocket, trying to act casual as he gave Oscar a look.

—This is gonna get out of hand fast, isn’t it?— Lando muttered.

Oscar shrugged, clearly not fazed. —You’d think we’d be used to it by now. I mean, we’re with her all the time, but it still catches you off guard, right?—

Lando glanced at Amelie, who was now examining a rack of clothes, blissfully unaware of the growing crowd outside. She was chatting with Lily, laughing at something, her shoulders relaxed as she flicked through the items on the hanger. But even without realizing it, the moment she stepped into the shop, she became the center of attention.

The shop owner, a frazzled middle-aged man in a pressed suit, had already instructed the staff to be discreet, but it was clear the situation was escalating. People outside the store had begun whispering, their phones out, trying to get photos from every angle.

—Amelie, we should go before it gets crazy.— Lando said softly, walking over to her.

She looked up, blinking in surprise. —What? Oh, no, I’m fine. We’re just shopping.—

Amelie’s eyes flicked up to meet Lando’s, and the smile on her face faltered. Her gaze moved past him to the glass windows, and she instantly saw it. The crowd. Phones were raised in unison, flashes popping like camera shutters, and a group of fans had gathered, pressing up against the storefront, their excited voices ringing in the air.

Lando’s warning hadn’t even fully registered in her mind before it became all too real. The sudden shift in her body language was almost immediate, her posture straightening, a hand instinctively pulling the strap of her bag a little tighter over her shoulder.

She let out a quiet sigh, trying to shake off the feeling of being trapped under the spotlight again. It was something she’d learned to live with, but it never failed to make her uncomfortable. Sure, she had chosen this life, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sometimes get overwhelming.

Amelie didn’t even know why it surprised her anymore. This was her life now. The crowds. The constant attention. The never-ending cycle of being watched. But even after all these years, she couldn’t help but feel that strange twinge of discomfort every time it happened.

—Shit, Lan...— she muttered, her tone low, as she tried to keep her face neutral, avoiding eye contact with the growing crowd. She didn’t want to appear bothered, but the reality was, being filmed and snapped without permission never sat well with her.

Lando stepped closer, his hand resting gently on her lower back. He noticed the shift in her demeanor immediately and, as always, went into protector mode.

—You okay?— he asked, his voice soft, but his eyes scanning the shop to see just how many people were outside. He wasn’t blind. He could feel the tension in her shoulders, the way she’d pulled away from the carefree air she’d had just moments ago.

—Yeah, just...— she trailed off, trying to push through it, but her smile was now a little strained, and she clearly wasn’t having fun anymore.

The sound of voices outside was getting louder, and it was clear the situation was spiraling quickly. Fans had started shouting her name, some trying to get her attention while others took advantage of the opportunity to snap photos.

Lando frowned, glancing at Oscar and Lily, both of whom had started to take a step back, clearly realizing that their quiet shopping trip had just turned into a spectacle. Oscar gave him a sympathetic look, and Lily raised an eyebrow, mouthing I knew this was gonna happen.

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, a small sigh escaping his lips. He glanced at Amelie, who was now staring at the growing crowd with a mixture of disbelief and frustration. He could see it in her eyes—how she hated it. Hated being watched, hated being the center of attention when all she wanted was a normal day with her boyfriend and friends.

—Alright, Ames, let’s go, yeah?— Lando suggested gently, his voice calm but firm, trying to reassure her that they weren’t stuck in this madness.

But she didn’t move. Instead, her gaze stayed glued to the window as more and more people gathered outside. She was frozen, her hand subtly tightening around the strap of her bag. Lando could feel the tension radiating off her, and he didn’t want her to feel overwhelmed. He stepped forward, cupping her face with one hand and lifting her chin to make her look at him.

—Hey, you don’t have to do this. I’ve got you. Let’s go somewhere else if you want. Don’t let them get to you, Ames. You deserve a break.—

Her lips parted as if she were about to protest, but she closed them again, the fight draining from her face as she looked back at him. There was a deep sigh, and she finally gave a small nod.

Lando smiled softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek, and with a nod, he turned towards the door. He took her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. He could feel her tension as they made their way towards the exit, her fingers tightening around his, but she didn’t pull away.

The moment they stepped outside, the noise hit them. A wave of people surged forward like a tide, the sound of shouting and phones clicking. Lando instinctively stepped in front of her, shielding her from the crowd as best as he could with his body. He kept his hand tightly in hers, pulling her closer to him, his other hand extended slightly to push through the throngs of people that had gathered.

Lando could feel the energy shift instantly as the crowd surged. Phones were in the air, like a swarm of bees, buzzing and snapping in every direction. People were shouting Amelie’s name, her face plastered on every screen as flashes went off, strobe-like, as if the paparazzi were out in full force. It wasn’t just a few fans anymore—it was a mob, and Lando was doing everything he could to keep them at bay.

He could feel Amelie’s grip tightening on his hand as she tried to move with him. She wasn’t panicking, but he could feel her anxiety radiating through their connection. He kept his hand in front of them, gently shoving people back as they came too close, his voice low but firm.

—Excuse me! Please back off!— Lando called out, trying to keep the space between them and the crowd. He was used to being in the spotlight, but he was well aware that it wasn’t just his name being screamed anymore. People had spotted Amelie and, just like that, the situation had escalated.

Amelie smiled at the fans who called out to her, doing her best to keep her composure as she posed for a selfie with one person, then another. She tried to hide the nerves in her eyes, but Lando saw it all—the subtle tension in her jaw, the way she was keeping herself just a little too composed.

As they inched forward, Lando kept leading the way, gently navigating through the crowd. Fans were pressing in, trying to reach out to touch her, snap photos, or just get close. A few even shouted her name, asking for an autograph, but Amelie didn’t seem to mind as much. She was used to it by now—smiling and laughing through the craziness, even though she would have preferred to be somewhere quiet, just the two of them.

—Hey, keep your hands to yourselves!— Lando snapped at one of the people who got a little too close. He wasn’t a fan of being rude, but he had to make sure they respected Amelie’s space.

Amelie’s eyes met his for a split second, and she gave him a grateful, albeit slightly tired, smile. —Thanks, Lan.—

They were so close to the car now. Just a few more steps. Lando could see the black SUV parked just ahead, the driver standing by with the door open, ready to whisk them away from this madness.

The sea of people in front of them seemed endless, but with every step, they got closer to the peace and calm of the car. Lando’s pace quickened as he tightened his grip on Amelie’s hand, moving as fast as he could without seeming too rushed. He was still holding his arm in front of her, trying to block out the people who were too eager to shove their phones in her face.

And then, as if a wave had hit them, the screams grew louder. More phones, more faces, more hands reaching. Amelie’s eyes flicked between Lando and the approaching vehicle, her breathing quickening slightly.

—Just a little bit longer, Ames. Almost there.— Lando muttered, and she nodded, though Lando could see the faintest trace of discomfort in her eyes.

When they reached the car, Lando opened the door and helped Amelie inside, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her in. She slid in quickly, her face flushed but still trying to keep it together.

Once inside, Lando closed the door behind them, and for a brief moment, everything went silent. It was like the noise of the crowd was suddenly shut out, and they were enveloped in a bubble of quiet.

Oscar and Lily got in the car behind them, and Lando quickly glanced at Amelie, who was sitting next to him, her hands resting in her lap as she tried to compose herself.

Before Lando could say anything, Oscar leaned forward from the back seat, grinning. —Well, that was a shitshow, huh? You’ve got quite the entourage following you now, Amelie. Remind me to never go shopping with you again.—

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

liked by amelienation, lando, and others

ameliegossipdaily: Honestly, what happened tonight in Barcelona was completely unacceptable. 🙄 While Amelie, Lando, and their friends were just trying to enjoy a quiet day, some people forgot that she's a human being, not a circus attraction. It's beyond disrespectful to invade someone's personal space like that—especially when she's clearly uncomfortable. 😤

Amelie’s kindness knows no bounds, and yet, people treat her like a zoo animal. When will we respect boundaries? Fans deserve to be able to appreciate their idols, but this was way over the line. 😳 We all saw the frenzy outside that store—the paparazzi flashing cameras, the screaming, the invasion of privacy. We get it, she's famous, but respect goes both ways, and the disrespect shown to her tonight is absolutely appalling. 😤

Amelie deserves peace, she deserves to live without feeling like she’s on display 24/7. 🌟 Everyone should take a moment to reflect on how we treat people we admire. It's not all about the chase for selfies and autographs. 📸 Respect her space, her comfort, and her friends' time too.

Let’s do better, folks. ✊💖 Amelie is a queen, and she deserves to be treated like one.

View all 20,583 comments

f1queen: Honestly, I'm just glad Lando was there to protect her. The way people just start snapping pics without asking? YIKES. 😤 → tiffytiff_23: @f1queen seriously, where's the respect for her privacy?? 😡

papayadreamer: I can't believe people turned a normal shopping trip into a freak show. Amelie deserves SO much better than that. 😔💔 → itsnicky44: @papayadreamer 100%. Like, leave her alone, it’s not that deep. 🙄

sarahh_rocks: Ugh, she looked so uncomfortable. Can we just let her live? 🤦‍♀️

sofia__carter: Lando looking like he's ready to fight the entire crowd to protect her, but honestly... it's necessary. 😂🛑 → itsme_alexx: @sofia__carter he was on full defense mode lol 😂 respect Lando tho. 🫶

ameliedailyupdates: That whole crowd thing was gross. No one should have to go through that, especially Amelie. 😤💔 → oscar__fan22: @ameliedailyupdates true. People forget there's a line between admiration and invasion. 😡

lucyheartthrob: Did anyone else see Lando liked this post? 👀 He knows we’re all on the same page. → f1life77: @lucyheartthrob Yesss I noticed too! He’s def not here for the crowd either!

gracie_luvs: Amelie deserves to shop without being hunted down. That’s so rude. 😡

stanamelie4ever: the way she was literally trying to leave and people kept blocking her path??? disgusting.

fan11: if Amelie never goes outside again, I fully support her tbh → fan12: real, I wouldn’t either after this mess 😭

[adventuresofalgy]

Although Algy had discovered some early daffodils flowering well before their usual time, it was certainly not spring in the sense which many of his friends would understand, where winter truly and definitely ends, perhaps with a major thaw, and the world becomes consistently warm untill the autumn.

For in the temperate rainforest climate of the wild west Highlands of Scotland, it rarely if ever gets genuinely warm, in the same way that it is rarely seriously cold, and spring tends to be a very long drawn out and chilly season, which might appear to start early, if plants are an indicator, but which remains well below a comfortable temperature for several months, despite the rapidly lengthening days.

And of course the local conditions are usually exceptionally wet, as befits a rainforest climate. But at certain times of year it is not uncommon for the west Highlands to experience a week or two of dry, sunny weather, and in Algy's experience this quite often happens in February.

So he was not particularly surprised when the next morning brought more fine weather, but also a sparkling frost. Perching on the icy ground briefly, in order to inspect a patch of emerging crocuses which were growing in an area where the still-low sun could not often reach to warm them, Algy observed that "a tremor of the winter" did indeed still "shivering through them run", and he reflected on the extent to which the order of appearance of the spring bulbs was confused this year, for not only were many of the snowdrops still only starting to come into flower, but full sized daffodils were beginning to flower at the same time, before the crocuses had fully opened. It all seemed topsy-turvy to Algy, and although he was of course delighted to see the return of flowers to the garden, he could not help feeling that things were not quite as they should be…

They heard the South wind sighing A murmur of the rain; And they knew that Earth was longing To see them all again. While the snow-drops still were sleeping Beneath the silent sod; They felt their new life pulsing Within the dark, cold clod. Not a daffodil nor daisy Had dared to raise its head; Not a fairhaired dandelion Peeped timid from its bed; Though a tremor of the winter Did shivering through them run; Yet they lifted up their foreheads To greet the vernal sun.

[Algy is thinking of the first four verses of the poem The Crocuses by the 19th/early 20th century American poet and activist, Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, who was one of the first African American women to be published in the United States.]

[coffeebanana]

writing year in review

my beloved sunny aka @bittersweetresilience had the idea of doing writing excerpts for each month of the year and it tagged me SO!! here i go with an excuse to reminisce!!

JANUARY

The final embers of daylight dwindled in the winter sky, and Alya knew she was in trouble. The stretch of woods before her—the closest path to the nearby village—was but a line of dark, snow-lined branches. They twisted into the air like talons, dragging down wisps of fiery sunlight that shimmered against the frostbitten ground as if trying to scorch the earth below. In the ashes of night, there would only be danger ahead.

This Fire Won't Sleep Through The Night, Chapter 1

FEBRUARY

Another mistake. She crumbled in his grip; ashes floated up like a mosaic, blinding his vision. Frantically, he pawed at the air—trying to gather her fragments, to force her back together. If he caught enough, perhaps he could papier-mâché her likeness. He could use his tears as glue.

Villains That Live In My Head

MARCH

A pretty pink coloured Ladybug’s cheeks—maybe just the hues of the sunset, but maybe something more. She seemed able to do nothing more than gape at him. Time stretched out long enough that [Catwalker] felt his smile begin to fade—and even that took too long. As if he’d spent too much energy putting it on, and now his muscles couldn’t remember how to wipe it away. Yet just when he feared all hope was lost, Ladybug reached up and grasped his wavering hand. “One dance,” she echoed. “I’d like that.”

One More Dance

APRIL

Sometimes, on nights when Adrien was lucky enough to dream instead of constantly waking up in a cold sweat, he would still hear Marinette’s laughter. And when he awoke, the sound would linger a moment, quickly fading. Always fading. Once upon a time, there had been a promise in that sound. An impossible warmth, wrapping around him. Maybe that, too, had always been a lie.

Maybe This Life, Chapter 1

MAY

Adrien finally knew the truth—or one of them, at least—and the world was still spinning. His chest still knew how to rise and fall in slow, even breaths, and if ever his slumber grew fitful, his body seemed to instinctively seek out hers. Which probably just meant he was after her warmth; that was the logical answer. Yet she couldn’t help hoping it meant more. Like maybe, despite everything, they could still find their way back to each other.

everything i know (brings me back to us), Chapter 10

JUNE

Even she had to admit, on days when their laughter danced obnoxiously through transient snowflakes, that it was nice to have an excuse to tangle their fingers together. Especially when Adrien squeezed her hand and pulled her in close, their noses brushing together. His breath spilled a silent promise. I’ll keep you warm. In moments like those, life seemed perfect. But that was the year Marinette learned that snow could lie.

Maybe This Life, Chapter 3

JULY

[...] “You know, I just remembered something that would make me feel a little better…” “Yeah? What is it?” “A kiss.” Ladybug’s lips twitched. “Funny. I don’t remember that in any of the first aid courses.” “I mean… it’s basically CPR.” “No it’s not!” She laughed. “Not at all!” “So you’re saying you won’t give me mouth to mouth? It’s to save my life.” She shook her head fondly, then leaned in, cupping [Adrien's] cheek. “I never said I wouldn’t.”

How to Crack a Few Jokes

AUGUST

“How, um… How did that even happen?” Marinette asked, her voice finally back to normal. There was a genuine gleam in her eyes that softened the rest of Alya’s apprehension. Besides, Alya was too excited not to share. “It totally came out of nowhere! Like, there were some definite vibes last time I interviewed her—at least, I was pretty sure there were. But still, I never expected anything to happen. And it was a good kiss, too. Not that I have a lot to compare it to, but…” She smirked. “I guess all that Akuma-fighting adrenaline’s got to go somewhere.” An indecipherable noise came from Marinette’s spot on the floor. “Goo-good to know!”

Just Keep It Casual, Chapter 1

SEPTEMBER

Somewhere amidst the time it had taken Adrien to recalibrate, the doctor had taken a seat. Grey eyes peered through thick lenses, ignoring Adrien as they skimmed the screen of a nondescript tablet. It took a moment for Adrien to place the feeling that sparked inside of him—the way each swipe of the man’s bony fingers made him want to curl in on himself. Or why it felt like, despite the slight advantage in height the bed provided, the doctor was staring down at him. But when those eyes flashed up to meet Adrien’s, he realized exactly who the doctor inadvertently reminded him of. Perhaps Adrien had come close enough to death to tangle with ghosts. Or maybe this one had always been there; the spectre of his father’s disappointment must be cosmically bound to his side.

Maybe This Life, Chapter 4

OCTOBER

Unable to hold herself up any longer, she fell back down to the balls of her feet. She pressed her face into Adrien’s chest until his breaths finally evened out. Until he remembered how to stand on his own two feet. He stared down at her as he pulled away, smiling weakly even though his lips still wobbled. And she did her best to smile back. She kissed his fingers and helped wipe his tears. It’ll be okay, she told herself. Everything will be okay. She was a liar now, after all.

A Whole Other Lifetime

NOVEMBER

Her face turned into his sleeve, her breath warming a tiny circle against his bicep as her nose pressed into the fabric, and the world seemed to melt away to that single sensation. He could feel the tiniest bit of moisture build up through soft, silky wool, and at any moment, he half expected a kiss to press against the sleeve. That was what she would have done, once. A tiny kiss, a tinier giggle. She’d rise up on her knees and trail kisses up to his neck, to his jaw, to that sensitive spot behind his ears. And he’d be putty in her hands, turning towards her without a second thought. Pulling her into his lap with urgency, like if he held her tightly enough in his arms, all the world’s problems would fade away. He knew better now.

Maybe This Life, Chapter 5

DECEMBER

She leaned into his touch, searching for something to say that would set him at ease—but nothing seemed enough. Chat’s forehead had pinched in the middle again. He was watching her as if worried she might disappear. So she gave up on words. They’d never been her strong suit anyways. And she needed reassurance too. She needed the warmth of his breath—the way he stuttered in surprise as she captured his lips with her own. She needed him to kiss her back, needed his hands pull her closer out of want—not from the fear of what might happen if he should let go.

As Long As You're Okay

THANKS SUNNY THIS WAS FUN!!! 🩷💜

No pressure tags for @kasienda, @celestialtitania, @rosekasa

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Rose

Written for @hinnymicrofic February 2024, using December 2023 Prompt 28

Written with love, because everyone gets busy sometimes, and the world always needs more hinny! Also - as usual, stretching the definition of micro!

Rose sat on the bench, watching as the flock of pigeons pecked in the dust at the foot of Nelson’s Column. She enjoyed watching the birds. Everyone else seemed to hate them, to regard them as a menace, but she always found them comically amusing. 

She tried to come here most weeks, though it wasn’t as often now. The journey was too much for her aching hip. But she’d force herself if she possibly could, because what was the alternative? Sitting alone in her little flat? Rose much preferred to be out in the fresh air, especially on a day like this. 

Besides, coming here, to Trafalgar Square, always made her feel closer to her Stanley. It reminded her of trips to see the paintings in the gallery behind her, when they were first courting. They didn’t know much about art, her and Stanley, but the gallery was free, and neither of them had much spare cash in those days. Besides, it made her feel very posh, dressed in her best frock and hat, looking at the paintings. Afterwards, he’d buy them an ice cream, and they would sit together on these very benches, watching the pigeons, laughing together and falling in love. 

She sighed to herself. He’d been gone eleven years now, and it still felt like she was missing a limb, but sitting here, on a bright, sunny day, he didn’t feel so very far away. She smiled to herself, and closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply as she allowed herself to imagine that he’d left her for just a minute to go and buy those ice creams from the little kiosk by the steps. 

Her eyes drifted open once more, and wandered over the other people gathered in the square. There was a group of school children, racing back and forth, and scattering the pigeons, while their increasingly harassed teachers attempted to corral them. Three young women that she thought were probably nannies chatted in Spanish as they pushed their young charges in buggies in the direction of Admiralty Arch and St James’s Park beyond. A man in a smart business suit carrying a briefcase was talking to someone on one of those new-fangled mobile phones. 

Then a young couple caught her eye. They approached from the direction of Whitehall, walking hand in hand, and eating ice creams. Hers was chocolate, and his was strawberry - exactly what she and Stanley would have chosen. She wasn’t sure exactly how she knew, but it was immediately obvious to her that they were very much in love. Perhaps it was the easy way that the girl tilted her head into the boy’s shoulder, or the way he dropped occasional kisses into her hair. It warmed Rose’s soul to see it.

They made a handsome couple, she thought. The girl was extremely pretty, petite, with a wicked smile and the sort of hourglass figure that Rose had so envied in her youth. She had long red hair that tumbled down her back, and a healthy crop of freckles dusting her skin both above and below her denim shorts and stretchy strapless top. Some of her friends at the bridge club might have had something to say about the substantial amount of skin the girl was showing, but personally, Rose thought she looked cute as a button. She liked to see the young making the most of their youth. It was gone all too soon.

Her boyfriend was tall and slender. At first glance, you might think he was skinny, but the lean, whip-like muscles visible down his arms below the sleeves of his faded green t-shirt told a different story. His hair was black, and very messy, and he was wearing wire rimmed glasses that reminded her of the ones Stanley used to wear. As she watched them, the light breeze caught his hair, and Rose saw a strange scar running down his forehead and through his eyebrow. She frowned, wondering what could have caused such an injury. It was a shame, she thought, that such a handsome face was so badly marked, but the girl didn’t seem to mind and that, supposed Rose, was all that mattered. 

Together, they wandered across the stone paving, stopping to look up at the statue of Nelson as the boy tossed the last of his wafer cone into his mouth. The girl gazed upwards, frowning as though confused, and the boy dipped his head to say something to her. The girl looked even more puzzled, then her face cleared, and she nudged the boy playfully, clearly catching him in some joke at her expense. The boy caught her wrists, grinning at her, and she giggled, then protested when he leaned forward to lick her ice cream. They were both laughing when he released her, and she offered him the remains of her cone. He made short work of it, and then drew her towards him, crashing his lips into hers.

Now that’s a proper kiss, thought Rose. The two of them stayed there, locked together, as though they were the only two souls in the entire city, and when they finally broke apart, Rose could see a look of euphoria on the girl’s face. Grinning broadly, she took a pace backwards, spread her arms wide, tilted her chin to the sky and began to spin around. She appeared to the woman as the embodiment of pure joy.

The boy just stood and watched her, his own expression making it clear just how besotted he was. His hand dropped into the pocket of his jeans, and even at quite a distance, Rose could see him swallow hard, as though he was bracing himself for something. A moment later the girl stilled, facing him. Rose thought perhaps he might have called her name. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, the boy dropped to one knee, and in the same movement pulled a small red box from his pocket, presenting it to her. 

The girl’s hands flew to her face, which flushed bright pink, a vivid shade that clashed violently with her hair. She nodded vigorously, and her eyes brightened with tears. Gently, the boy took her hand, and slipped a ring onto her finger, then stood and pulled her back into his arms once again. A few minutes later, arm in arm, they began to stroll back up towards Charing Cross Road, passing quite close to Rose as they did so.

“Congratulations,” she told them.

“Oh! Thank you!” exclaimed the girl, beaming. The boy said nothing, only grinned.

Rose sat and watched them go. They both seemed so young, perhaps not even into their twenties. Once again, she was reminded of her and Stanley. They’d married young too, but then again, so had most people back then, eager to put down roots after the war. Stanley had worn his RAF uniform on their wedding day, and he had looked so very handsome. They’d been separated for so long, Stanley aboard a Lancaster bomber as a navigator, while she did her bit on the home front, working as a nurse at a city hospital during the Blitz, each of them facing terrible danger every single day. She remembered how terrified she’d been that he might never come back to her, and when she saw him standing at her door on that wonderful day when he did, the wave of relief was so powerful that her knees buckled underneath her. They’d been married six months later, battered and bruised and very much not the same innocent couple eating ice creams in their Sunday best in Trafalgar Square, but perhaps loving one another more fiercely because of it.

Twisting her shoulders, Rose could just pick out long red hair alongside a messy black head in the crowds, silently wishing them every happiness. She was glad they would never have to know the horror of a war that threatened their very existence, or the pain of an enforced separation where neither could be sure whether the other was even still alive. They would make a beautiful bride and groom, she was sure. 

The shriek of a delighted toddler, racing through the flock of pigeons momentarily pulled her attention away. When she looked back, the boy and the girl were gone.

[crazylittlejester]

What time of year I think the LU Links were born, except it’s based SOLEY off of vibes and also I’m insane

(and the times of year are based off the seasons as I experience them where I am on this planet)

Time: Late Spring, but the kind of late spring where it’s not too hot yet but all the flowers are blooming and it’s really pretty but also not raining a WHOLE lot. PERFECT picnic weather

Warriors: LATE Fall, ‘First Wave of Winter’; it’s not deathly cold yet and it’s still enjoyable to go outside, but there’s snow all around and everything has a soft warm feeling to it. It’s the type of winter you enjoy, when you’re not yet sick of it and playing in the snow with your friends, at ANY age, still makes you genuinely smile. No body calls it Fall because it’s literally December, but TECHNICALLY it is Fall

Twilight: Very end of winter/‘Is it Spring?’; That cold ass, wet week in March where they TELL us it’s officially spring and we all go outside and tell ourselves it’s warm even though it’s windy as fuck and just as cold as it was the previous day. Everyone’s miserable but because they slapped a label that said ‘spring’ on it, we’re all telling ourselves maybe we WON’T drop out of college mid semester and maybe life IS worth living

Sky: Mid Spring; it’s pouring outside but in a comforting way, and you know the flowers are coming soon, plus it’s finally starting to get warm. You’ve put away your winter coat but now you wear a rain jacket over sweaters everywhere

Wild: Early Spring; it’s foggy outside constantly and the earth feels kind of quiet. Things are starting to wake up and you can feel it

Hyrule: Mid Fall; it’s the perfect temperature to wear a jacket and run around and not overheat. The leaves are turning but haven’t fallen yet, and muddy dirt roads are perfect for exploring

Legend: Early, EARLY Summer; The calendar says it’s summer and the air is warm, but you don’t wish you were dead yet. It’s beautiful out, it’s swimming weather, it’s sunny and nice, and the flowers are still stunning. It’s the kind of weather you still associate with freedom despite being out of school for 5+ years

Four: Mid Winter/‘That One Week That Fools Us All It’s Spring’; always that one week in February where you’re like “oh okay, I can put away my winter coat” just to get absolutely murdered the next time you decide to leave your house because it dropped twenty degrees and snowed over night and you’re so mad about it you fall to your knees and scream in the snow. But Four was born during the one week it was nice

Wind: Mid Summer/‘That One Week That Makes You Think ‘Maybe It IS Socially Acceptable To KMS’; The type of summer heat that has you grabbing your friend by the shoulders and shaking them, begging them to promise you if you EVER complain about being cold ever again in your life that they’ll hit you with their car

[quaranmine]

Keep your head and feet warm, very important. That's something I was taught when I went out camping when I was younger

Also Do Not come to Saskatchewan. We hit -48°C/-54°F the other night OTL

These are good tips! Yeah keeping the feet warm is important, I also know that from camping. Once your feet are cold it's sooooooo hard to get them warm again. I think we're fine here in Texas, I just wore my uniqlo heattech stuff to bed and added an extra blanket. And let the faucets drip with the cabinet door open.

It's mostly that we all collectively get worried it'll be like the Big Freeze of 2021 again. Nobody trusts Ercot anymore to keep the power grid stable after that big failure. But it's sunny outside, not snowing, and projected to get above freezing each day this week (it's just the nighttime lows in the 20sF) so I don't think it'll be the same 😅

Also Saskatchewan....the freezing Canadian interior. I love going on google maps and looking at all the lakes formed from old glacial retreat. I am going to Norway at the end of February/beginning of March though to hopefully see northern lights.....so this is only a taste of how cold I'll be. But even that won't be as cold as Saskatchewan because we'll be along the coast and the ocean always keeps things a little warmer than the interior areas.