#bleach challenge day 15

[witchywithwhiskey]

first and last

pairing: childhood best friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: after more than a decade away from your home town—and your childhood best friend—you return. everything is exactly the same, but also, entirely different.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, angst, smut, drunken antics, some arguing, drunk masturbation (f) with an audience, semi-public, choking, dirty talk, praise kink, begging, boundaries, very light bdsm vibes, references to past sexual intimacy (piv sex, oral sex [f receiving]), nicknames (buttercup, baby), aftercare

word count: 8.8k

a/n: this is my entry in @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar Challenge, and i've been working on it since june so i'm very excited to post it!!! i wanted to make a sundae i'd actually eat so i used the prompts Butterscotch (childhood friends) and Caramel (drunk/delirious/not in their right mind). it also might be a bit literal to have Steve working at an ice cream shop but whatever!!

i mentioned when i teased this fic that i'd thought about turning it into a much longer story/potentially saving it for a novel, but honestly i just don't know when or if i'll ever have time to do that. but these scenes don't necessarily follow right after each other, so if they feel disconnected, that's why. they're just the ones i wanted to write 😅

The sidewalk of Brambleberry Cove was warm from a full day under the August sun, the concrete gritty with sand beneath your bare feet as you walked the rest of the short distance to Seaside Scoops from your rental house a few blocks away. 

The sun dipped low on the western horizon, casting long shadows over the coastal town like stretching fingers reaching for the Atlantic Ocean. You could hear the steady sound of the crashing waves over the near distant sand dunes, their rhythm a background to your walk. 

It could’ve been a peaceful moment—you were back in your home town, surrounded by familiar sights and sounds and smells. But you were in a wretched mood, and all you could focus on was everything wrong with the world and your current place in it.

There was, of course, the throbbing pain in your big toe from when you’d stubbed it moments ago on the cursed, charming sidewalk, as well as the slight sting on the sides of your foot where your flip flop straps had torn. Your ruined shoes dangled from your fingers because Brambleberry Cove didn’t have a trash can on every street corner like the city you were accustomed to living in. 

In addition to those grievances, the straps of your bathing suit—which you hadn’t worn in far too long and hadn’t realized had become too small—were digging into your shoulders and hips uncomfortably. And, though you’d only been walking for five minutes from the little bungalow you were renting, your thighs were already beginning to chafe beneath the simple dress you’d thrown on. 

All told, you were not in the mood to appreciate the simple beauty of Brambleberry Cove. Instead of admiring the sun-bleached cottages that gave way to the small coastal shops lining main street, and letting yourself sink into the comfort of being back in your tiny beachside home town, you were fixated on everything wrong in your life—both in that moment and the larger scheme of things.

In your defense, though, there was a lot wrong in your life. There’d had to be to get you back to your home town after so long away. 

There was the dream job you’d lost, the ex who’d left you for someone else, and the friends who’d all promised to be there for you, but then vanished when you actually needed help. The only people who’d come through for you were your parents, who’d had a friend willing to rent a little Brambleberry Cove bungalow to you for a fraction of its normal summer price since it was already August and they weren’t going to make much more money anyway. 

You’d had to pack up and leave the city where you’d built your life for 15 years, and move back to your home town, which you hadn’t seen in nearly that long since your parents had moved out west shortly after you’d graduated high school. Being back home made you feel like you weren’t only taking a single step backward, but moving leaps and bounds in the wrong direction. It made you feel like a failure. 

But you tried not to think about all that on your short walk to Seaside Scoops, instead focusing on the pain in your toe and the digging ache of your bathing suit. 

By the time you saw the familiar neon sign for the ice cream shop, it felt like finding an oasis in the desert. You picked up your pace, ignoring the way your body protested, the soles of your feet no longer used to walking on the sandy sidewalk like you’d done countless times growing up in Brambleberry Cove. 

You could see through the window that there was a short line in Seaside Scoops, and you hurriedly pushed through the door of the shop. Once inside, you breathed in the familiar scent of sugar and hot fudge and reveled in the feel of the air conditioner ghosting over your sun-warmed shoulders. 

Surreptitiously, you shoved your ruined flip flops into the garbage just inside the door and got in line behind the couple with their two small children. You glanced around the shop, not really taking it in, and hoped whoever was working behind the counter was still lax on the ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ rule that had theoretically been in place since before you were born—but had never been enforced in practice. 

Finally looking to the counter, wondering idly if you’d recognize who was working or if it’d be some local teen that had been a baby the last time you’d been to Brambleberry Cove, you were shocked to see who was working at Seaside Scoops. Your belly swooped like you were standing on a boat on the choppy sea, your heart racing when you recognized the man behind the counter. At one time, he’d been the boy you’d shared so much of your childhood with, so many of your summers with. 

When you got a good look at him, you were almost surprised you recognized him so fast. He was no longer the scrawny teenager you’d left behind when you’d gone off to college and never looked back. He looked so different from the boy you’d known well enough you could recall his face in perfect detail, but, in so many ways, exactly the same.

On the whole, it was a shock to see the man Steve Rogers had become. 

Sandy brown hair fell on either side of his handsome, suntanned face, swept back like he had a habit of running his hands through it countless times a day. A short, well-kept beard decorated his strong jaw, bracketing a set of soft pink lips that were curved in a devastating grin. His bright blue eyes sparkled beneath the fluorescent lights of the shop, and when he spoke to the family in front of you in line, his voice rumbled like the distant roar of the ocean.

Seeing Steve Rogers for the first time in over 15 years made something loosen in your chest, anxiety uncoiling from around your heart and shaking free for the first time in a long time. A sense of safety and comfort washed over you, and you had the sudden thought that this was how you were supposed to feel about coming home. 

But you shoved that thought aside and continued your perusal of your childhood best friend, making note of all the ways he’d changed from the boy you’d known.

Thick, golden biceps were bare and bulging beneath the edge of his white t-shirt, and dense, brown hair covered corded forearms as Steve folded his arms on top of the ice cream case. He was tall—tall enough to lean over the case to talk to the kids with the couple in front of you, asking them about their favorite ice cream flavors and if they’d like to try anything new.

The kids, a boy and a girl, both stared up at him with wide eyes, shyness and wonder clear in their twin expressions. They looked to their parents for permission before shyly revealing what flavors they’d like to try. Steve gave a deep, hearty chuckle at their timidness, and complimented them on their choices, which seemed to make them both loosen up a bit.

Inexplicable heat flushed through your body at the sound of Steve’s deep laughter, and the easiness with which he interacted with the kids. You’d never been particularly good with children, mainly because you’d never had much of a chance to interact with any, and you’d never felt any particular desire to be around them. But seeing Steve looking like he did talking to those kids made your belly swoop again and something inside you pulse with a need you didn’t want to fully unpack.

Shoving those thoughts into a box in the back corner of your mind, you forced yourself to look away from your childhood friend and up at the menu that listed all the ice cream flavors. You’d been to Seaside Scoops hundreds of times in your life, if not thousands, and, at one time, you’d had the list memorized. 

Hopefully you still had that knowledge tucked away somewhere in your brain, because you weren’t taking in anything you were reading as you not-so-patiently waited for Steve to finish up with the customers in front of you.

It felt like forever, and by the time the family took their cups and cones of ice cream toward the side door that opened up into an outdoor seating area, you’d already cycled through three rounds of the same argument with yourself about why you should leave Seaside Scoops without talking to Steve. You couldn’t imagine your first conversation in 15 years going well.

But you couldn’t leave without talking to him. Not when he was right there and it had been so long and you were dying to know everything that he’d done in the last 15 years since you saw him last. 

Still, it took you a few extra seconds to gather the courage to lower your eyes from the menu board and finally look at your childhood friend. When you did, your gaze caught immediately on Steve’s, and your heart gave a little flip at the devastatingly charming smile on his impossibly handsome face.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, his tone as friendly and familiar as it had always been. All of a sudden, it felt like no time had passed at all. 

“Hi, Steve,” you said, trying for the same casualness he’d achieved, but your voice sounded faint and faraway in your ears. The corners of your mouth flickered in a tremulous smile.

You couldn’t understand the surge of emotion filling your chest and rising in your throat, pricking at the backs of your eyes like you wanted to throw yourself into your oldest friend’s arms and sob about everything wrong in your life. 

The same deluge of emotion had hit you when you’d stubbed your toe on your walk to Seaside Scoops and you’d had to stand there by yourself, sucking in deep breaths of salty Brambleberry Cove air, nails biting into the flesh of your palms to keep yourself from breaking down. 

Just as you’d done then, you beat back the emotion, blinking your eyes rapidly to rid them of tears. Still, a thought needled you as you stood across the counter from Steve—the knowledge that if you did let yourself break down and cry, he wouldn’t hesitate to fold you into that broad chest of his, wrapping you up in his thick arms and holding you so securely, the world might not seem so grim anymore. 

You chalked it up to nostalgia and the rough time you were having, forcing yourself to take a deep breath and paste on a bright smile. Casting your eyes around Seaside Scoops, you pretended to give the place a real look, though you didn’t really notice much as you continued to blink back tears. 

“You work here now?” you asked lightly, looking at the new standee in the corner.

It was a cartoon shark holding up a sign advertising Seaside Scoops and their many ice cream flavors. But what caught your eye was that it looked a bit like the shark Steve had drawn for you when you’d gotten a bad grade sophomore year and wanted to cheer you up. It even had the same little sailor hat sitting perched on top of his head—which only made sense because sharks didn’t have blowholes, he’d told you at the time.

You’d smiled then, and you smiled again remembering it.

“Uhh,” Steve started, and you turned tear-free eyes back on your old friend, your gaze drawn to the way his bicep bulged against the sleeve of his t-shirt as he scuffed the back of his neck. There was a little bit of a sheepish tinge to his smile. “I actually own Scoops now,” he said in a rush, like he was confessing to something, though you couldn’t imagine what. “I bought it when Mr. Wallace retired down to Florida.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say, glancing around the ice cream shop with a keener eye.

The shark standee wasn’t the only new thing in the place. Everything, from the tables and chairs to the menu board and counter, looked slightly newer than you remembered. Nothing was wildly different, which was why you hadn’t noticed it when you first looked around. Everything just looked better than it should if it had aged a decade since you’d last stepped into the shop.

Something about it made you think Seaside Scoops looked exactly like your memory of it—but the polished, perfect version in your head, instead of the place as it had been. Yellowed with age and a lack of upkeep. It was genuinely astounding what Steve had done with the place and it took you a few moments to find the right words, though they still felt pale in comparison to the bittersweet nostalgia in your heart.

“The place looks great,” you said with a half smile as you turned back to Steve. A small thread of pride wormed through your heart at seeing what your oldest friend had accomplished and your smile widened when he brightened under your praise. “I like the shark,” you said, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the standee. 

A bit of pink tinted Steve’s cheeks above his beard, and he cleared his throat. 

“Is a dipped twist still your favorite?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject and your smile dimmed just a little. The Steve you’d known had been shy about showing his art to anyone but you, and it seemed that you’d been gone long enough to be lumped in with everyone else. 

You swallowed back a lump in your throat and nodded. “Yeah, that’s still my favorite,” you answered, more than a little surprised Steve remembered your order.

Sure, you’d gone to Seaside Scoops together countless times as kids. It had been your hangout spot for most of your childhood, and even into your teen years. You’d study together over a cup of cookie dough with sprinkles for Steve and a cone of vanilla and chocolate softserve dipped in chocolate sauce for you. But that was more than a decade ago.

Your heart gave a heavy squeeze when you remembered the night before you’d left Brambleberry Cove, the way Steve reminded you of the promise you’d made as children—that you’d always be friends. Your stomach twisted into knots as you were confronted with the reality that you hadn’t kept up your end of the deal. You’d left, and you’d allowed your oldest friend to become a stranger. 

You wondered if Steve remembered the promise you’d made, the reminder he’d given you as a parting gift, or if he’d forgotten. You wondered if he’d ever want to be friends again.

Steve’s back was to you, his wrist flicking expertly beneath the softserve machine as he filled up a sugar cone with the twist of chocolate and vanilla. You forced yourself to push aside the memories of the past, blinking back more tears before Steve could catch them in your eyes. 

You and Steve weren’t friends anymore, and you needed to accept that. It was unreasonable to hold him to a promise he’d made more than two decades ago, especially when you were the one who’d left and had barely tried to stay in touch between college classes and exploring your new city.

With a great amount of effort, you kept your mind blissfully blank as you let your gaze trail idly over Steve’s broad back, unable to stop yourself from noticing just how wide his shoulders were, or the way they moved beneath the soft, worn cotton of his t-shirt. He really did fill out the shirt well, his sides tapering down to a thin waist. And his ass looked particularly good in the curve-hugging denim of his jeans. 

As Steve turned around, you raised your eyes quickly and arranged your expression into one of innocence. Steve paused, giving you a shrewd look like he would’ve done when you were teenagers and you were hiding something from him, but then he just shook his head and laughed under his breath, turning to the chocolate sauce where he’d dip your ice cream cone. 

“So, what brings you back to Brambleberry Cove, buttercup?” Steve asked, his gaze focusing on dipping your ice cream just right, a look of determination on his face that was endlessly endearing. 

You grimaced at the exact moment he glanced up at you, and he chuckled at the face you made. The sound was smooth as warm caramel and sent a new wave of heat rolling down your spine. 

“That bad, huh?” he asked, genuine interest in his tone.

Although there was a point in your life when you could’ve told Steve anything, and the urge to do so still lingered deep in your bones, you knew your relationship was different. You couldn’t dump all your problems on your childhood friend after not talking to him for 15 years. You didn’t even know if you were still friends anymore. 

Plus, there was a small crowd gathering behind you as the late dinner rush started to filter into Seaside Scoops. Even if you’d wanted to tell Steve everything that had happened to you in the 15 years since you’d last seen him, it wasn’t the time. 

So you just gave him a sad smile and accepted the ice cream cone from Steve’s hand, ignoring the butterflies and ticklish warmth that fluttered through your body at his touch. You gripped the sugar cone tight—but not too tight—so you didn’t fumble it. 

“Yeah,” you whispered in answer to his question, leaving it at that. There was an awkward beat, and your eyes dropped to the ice cream that was already beginning to melt despite the air conditioning in the shop. Thankfully, you had an easy way to move past Steve’s questions. 

You pulled some cash from the wristlet where you’d also stashed your phone and I.D., asking, “What do I owe you?” because you figured it must’ve been more expensive than what you remembered. And you didn’t want to risk looking up at the menu and catching Steve’s eye, not wanting any of the emotions or heat that seemed to flood you whenever you looked at him.

But a large, warm, golden hand closed over your fumbling fingers, startling you enough to look up into the sky blue eyes of your childhood friend. Your lips fell open in surprise as tingling warmth worked its way up your arm from your hand, wrapping around your heart and making it beat harder. 

For a long moment, you simply stared at each other. Steve really had grown up and changed so much, the evidence in the weathered grooves of his forehead and the lines between his brows, but his eyes still looked the same—soft as clouds, warm as the summer sun. 

“It’s on the house,” he murmured, his voice low and earnest, the thrum of some emotion you couldn’t identify laced through his words. “It was nice to see an old friend,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze before he pulled his away.

It wasn’t until Steve straightened up to his full height that you realized he’d been leaning over the counter, and your faces had been very close together. Heat crept into your cheeks at the realization that Steve had been in your personal space, and all you’d thought about was his eyes. 

Shoving all the money in your hand into the tip jar, you muttered, “Thanks, Steve.” As you zipped up your wristlet, you noticed that some of your ice cream was in danger of dripping onto your hand.

Without thinking, you licked quickly around the edge of the sugar cone, a soft moan slipping free when the cool sweetness of the ice cream hit your brain.

Steve made a strangled sound that dragged your attention away from your treat, finding your childhood best friend looking away and coughing into his fist, a deeper pink flushing his cheeks. You quirked your eyebrow in confusion when he looked back at you, but his expression gave nothing away and you had to wonder if you’d imagined the noise. It had almost sounded…aroused.

Shaking that thought clear from your mind, you gave Steve a smile and began to step away from the counter so he could help the next customer.

Steve’s eyes lingered on you, and he offered you one last charming, friendly smile, raising his hand in a wave. “Don’t be a stranger, buttercup,” he rumbled, his low words managing to reach your ears over the chatter in the shop. He gave you a long look, emotion swirling in those familiar eyes of his, and your breath caught in your throat.

The intensity of his gaze and the warmth in his parting words hit you straight in the gut, and you stood stunned in front of the register while Steve turned and walked to the other end of the ice cream case to help the next people in line. 

For a long moment, you couldn’t get over the way Steve had been able to read your mind, to pluck the thought that you were strangers to each other out of your brain and then tell you he didn’t want that to be the case. Your mind raced with questions. Did he still think of you as friends? Did he remember the promise you’d made all those years ago to always be friends? How did he know the exact right thing to say? 

But then the rational side of your brain resurfaced from wherever your heart had momentarily buried it, and you remembered his farewell was a normal thing for people to say to each other. Especially people who hadn’t seen each other in a while and likely would again because they both lived in a very small town. That’s all it was, just a normal goodbye. 

Not Steve Rogers somehow reading your mind because he knew you so well. 

With those rationalities ringing in your head, you dashed out of Seaside Scoops and it wasn’t until your feet had carried you to the next block that you remembered your broken shoes and stubbed toe and chafed thighs. 

But those problems didn’t seem quite so bad anymore. Not with the delicious ice cream cone in your hand, and the sunset casting Brambleberry Cove in gorgeous, golden light—and especially not with Steve’s warm, honeyed voice ringing in your head, calling you buttercup. 

It had felt so normal to hear the nickname roll off Steve’s tongue that you hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t realized how long it had been since you’d last heard it. But, just as it had when you were younger, it filled your chest with a bright, golden warmth. You grinned to yourself as you strolled back to your little bungalow, licking up the melting ice cream as fast as you could.

Your mood was decidedly better, and you enjoyed the walk home, refusing to think too much about why exactly you felt lighter and happier and less miserable about being home in Brambleberry Cove than you had before going to Seaside Scoops. It was just the ice cream, obviously. There was no other reason.

“You’re staring.” Steve’s voice was low, the undercurrent of laughter in it almost mixing with the sounds of the distant waves. You could hear them through the open windows of his truck as he eased the vehicle down the winding road leading away from the docks on the north side of Brambleberry Cove. 

His comment dragged you out of your drunken haze, and you took a deep breath to get your bearings. Your lungs filled with the salty nighttime air of the sea and the earthy leather interior of your childhood best friend’s truck, a small smile curling the corners of your lips and your eyes sliding closed. When you forced them back open, you realized he was right.

Huh, you really were staring at Steve. 

Your head was swiveled to the side, your cheek pressed to the brown leather of the seat back, your eyes fixed on the profile of his face that was highlighted in the glossy silver of the moon and warmed by the golden light of the town’s street lamps. 

You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed or ashamed for staring at Steve, though. And it was at that moment you realized you were drunk. 

It didn’t surprise you. After all, you were the one who’d thrown on some jean shorts and a cute top and then took yourself to Shanty’s, the only place in Brambleberry Cove to go if you were a local looking to avoid tourists. 

You’d been happy to see Bucky Barnes, your other oldest friend after Steve, manning the bar. But you’d been much less happy with him when he’d insisted on calling Steve to take you home after you’d downed more than your fair share of liquor. 

It was probably for the best, though. You were drunk and horny and if you weren’t careful, you would’ve gone home with Brock Rumlow. Just thinking about it made you grimace at yourself and your poor almost-decisions. 

Focusing back on Steve, you couldn’t fault Bucky too much for calling your old friend to pick you up—not when it had ended with you able to watch his side profile while he kept his eyes on the road. It felt practically shameful to indulge yourself so much. That is, if you’d had any shame left, but you’d drowned it all in alcohol.

“You’re still staring, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, the humor clearer in his tone. The edges of his mouth were flickering beneath the silvery golden light of Brambleberry Cove at night and you knew he was trying to suppress a smile. It was fascinating to watch, but then Steve rubbed his hand across his mouth, scrubbing through his beard, and it broke you free of your drunken trance.

“I just can’t get over how different you look,” you huffed, raising your arms and flopping them back against the seat in your best approximation of a shrug. “And how exactly the same.” 

Steve barked a laugh, the sharp sound bringing a smile instantly to your face. You’d never heard him laugh like that, and you couldn’t help but love that you were still discovering new things about him, even after knowing him all your life. 

He glanced over at you, his expression bemused like he was sure you were drunker than he’d thought. You probably were, but that didn’t stop you from being right, and you tried to convey that in the brief moment he looked at you. 

Steve’s gaze slid quickly down your body, not like he was checking you out—more like he was checking to make sure your seatbelt was still buckled and you weren’t in danger of doing anything ridiculous. You were only in danger of saying ridiculous things, at least, according to him apparently. He shook his head after he’d turned back to watching the road.

“You’re gonna have to explain that one to me, buttercup,” Steve said, a little bit of gruffness in his tone. He cleared his throat before he went on. “Usually when someone we went to high school with comes back, they tell me they never woulda recognized me.” 

You gave an unladylike snort, drawing another surprised laugh out of Steve before he bit off the sound to let you speak.

“Well those people should have their eyes checked,” you muttered scornfully, pushing yourself up from where you’d been slumped against the warm leather seat. You twisted your body in your seat so you were facing Steve, your eyes tracing the lines of his face from across the cab. “You still have the same eyes,” you pointed out vehemently, as if Steve was arguing with you, even though he wasn’t. “And your nose still has that little bump in it, and your lips are still so soft and full…”

You trailed off, realizing far too late that you were saying your inside thoughts out loud. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you watched Steve as he processed what you’d said—the way his fingers scratched a little nervously at his beard, those twin lines forming between his brows. Your gazed traced every curve and line and divot in his face, examining his expression, wanting to memorize it and save it for the rest of your life. 

“I don’t think any of those people noticed those things,” Steve murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the slight breeze drifting through the windows while he drove through town. 

Your heart lurched at the implication of Steve’s words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take them back, even if they were dangerously close to revealing something you hadn’t even had the courage to admit to yourself yet. 

Instead, you focused on your anger at the hypothetical people who weren’t recognizing Steve just because he’d grown up, gotten tall, gotten buff, grown out his hair and his beard and looked altogether very different to the skinny teenager he’d been.

“If they didn’t see those things, they didn’t really see you,” you muttered to yourself, indignant on Steve’s behalf, but trying to keep it to yourself. Apparently, you weren’t good at moderating the volume of your voice, because Steve snorted at your remark. 

“No, no one ever saw me as well as you did, buttercup,” Steve said, his voice low and warm, and your heart promptly rioted in your chest. 

There was something so dizzyingly wonderful about hearing Steve say such intimate words to you in that deep, caramel voice of his, genuine affection shining through his tone. It took your breath away for a moment, and your brain short-circuited. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him…something. The thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself yet. But you were still you, and your brain tripped at the last moment, and instead you blurted, “Do you ever think about our first time?”

Steve choked on a snort, his eyes darting to you with honest surprise. You couldn’t blame him. You’d had no idea those words were gonna spill from your mouth until they were out, but you supposed they weren’t as bad as what you’d almost confessed, so you didn’t try to take them back or change the topic of conversation. You waited with bated breath for Steve’s response, and whether he remembered your night together when you were both 18.

When he saw you were anticipating his answer, he spluttered, “You mean when I came three seconds after getting inside you?” 

You began to smile, because he remembered, but then Steve continued talking.

“Y’know, I told Bucky about that once,” he said, his eyes fixed so fully on the road that you got the impression he didn’t want to meet your gaze and your stomach plummeted. “I was drunk, and didn’t know if it really counted as sex. Bucky was no help, of course—he said he didn’t know either since it was so quick.” 

Something new was swirling in your gut, and for long moments you could only sit there on the warm leather of the truck and stew in that hot, feral feeling. It must’ve showed on your face because, when Steve finally looked over at you after you’d been quiet for so long, the truck lurched forward, his foot pressing too hard to the gas.

“Don’t worry,” he rushed to say, guessing at what was upsetting you and guessing wrong. “I didn’t tell him it was with you.”

“Don’t you dare,” you snarled, the words bursting out of you with a ferocity you’d never used in your life, let alone when talking to Steve. But you were furious all of a sudden, and it wasn’t until the words were spilling from your mouth that you understood why you were so angry. “Don’t you dare try to take this away from me, Steven Grant Rogers.” Your voice was seething and barely recognizable, but you couldn’t stop. “You were my first, and it was perfect—because it was you.” 

Steve glanced over at you, something like shock written across his face, but when he looked back at the road, his brows settled low over his eyes. The muscle in his jaw popped and you knew he was grinding his teeth together, taking his time to gather his thoughts before he spoke. It took him a long moment to respond.

“You deserved better.”

The noise of your scoff was loud, even to your ears, and you strained against the seatbelt still buckling you into the passenger seat as you leaned toward your childhood friend.

“You ate me out until I came three times, Steve!” you cried, holding up three fingers as if the adult man your friend had grown into somehow didn’t know how many three was. “No man has ever made me come so many times in one night as you did then.” 

When Steve still didn’t look at you, just kept driving with his hands gripping the wheel and the muscle in his jaw popping, you huffed an exasperated sound and flopped back into your seat. Your back was to the leather as you crossed your arms over your chest and stared out at Brambleberry Cove through the open passenger side window. 

The silence grew until it was suffocating, and you needed to break it. So you said the first thing that came to mind. Again.

“You’re who I think about when I touch myself, Steve.” Your words drifted from your side of the truck to the other, carried on the light breeze floating through the cab. “I think about you and that night, and it gets me off every single time.”

Steve made a strangled kind of sound, like a growl that was torn free from his throat against his will. Then he was quiet, and he was quiet for so long, you thought that was the only reaction you’d get to admitting the truth. Until…

“I think about you, too, buttercup.”

The confession hung in the air between you, settling heavily onto the leather bench seat in Steve’s truck, the air rushing in through the open windows buffetting around it. 

You didn’t feel Steve’s admission sink into you. There was simply a before and an after. And in the after, you were moving. You were unbuckling your seatbelt and scooting across the seat toward Steve until your bare knee brushed against the denim of his jeans. 

He shot a startled look in your direction—which, in a distant part of your brain, you registered as completely adorable—before quickly pulling over to the side of the road. He was just throwing the truck into park when you slid into his lap, straddling his thighs and pressing your chest to his. 

“We should do it again,” you purred, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning close. When Steve didn’t respond right away, just kept giving you that surprised look, you thought he might not have understood you, so you explained, “Have sex.”

Steve closed his eyes and a light tremor shuddered through his body as his hands settled respectfully on your waist, a few of his fingers brushing the skin where the edge of your tank top didn’t quite meet the waist of your shorts. Then, it was your turn to shudder, the feeling of his warm, calloused hands against your bare skin making heat flood between your thighs, your core warming and your body melting into your old friend’s hands.

“Please, Steve,” you whispered, tipping your head forward until your lips were a hairsbreadth from his, so close you could taste mint chocolate chip ice cream on his tongue and it took everything in you not to lick into his mouth desperately. Your voice was practically a whine as you went on, “Let’s see if we can do better this time.” 

Steve’s hands shifted to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to almost hurt, and you thought he was going to give in. But then he swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and he pushed you gently away, his head tilting back against the leather seat so your lips no longer teased him with an almost-kiss.

“You’re drunk, buttercup.”

Steve’s voice was a delicious rasp, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of it even as the meaning of his words settled into your drunken mind. You pouted at your childhood friend, hoping the fact that he hadn’t pushed you off his lap entirely meant he wasn’t saying no.

“And horny,” you said, the words slipping from your lips on another whine. Of their own volition, your hips squirmed on your oldest friend’s lap, trying to get closer, trying to find some kind of friction to work against the aching heat pulsing between your thighs. But Steve’s firm grip held you in place. “Stevie.” His name was nothing but a pathetic whimper. 

A low growl rumbled in Steve’s chest, and then one of his hands was abandoning your hip to cup your face, tilting it up so he could loom over you. The lines of his face were hard, stubborn, and the look in his eyes left no room for argument. 

“You know I won’t touch you when you’re drunk,” he bit out, his voice soft, but as firm as his hold on your body.

A memory slammed into you—you and Steve planning your first time together. You’d made a deal at the start of high school that if neither of you lost your virginity through all four years, then before going off to college, you’d lose it together. 

When the time came, you’d been a little nervous, even though it was Steve, and you’d joked that you could take some wine coolers to the beach and get it over with, just like all the other kids in your school. Even then, Steve had looked at you stubbornly, and said, without a shred of willingness to waver, that he wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk.

Back then, it had sent a shiver down your spine, and it had much the same effect more than a decade later in his truck. Your body trembled with arousal, and you pushed feebly against Steve’s hold—not really trying to break it, just enjoying the feeling that came from realizing how strong he was. Those biceps and corded forearms of his weren’t just for show.

“What about just the tip?” you murmured, the words tumbling past your lips before you could think better of them, knowing there was no use trying to argue with Steve when he’d made a decision. But you were clearly thinking with something other than your brain, because the words kept coming. “That’s not sex, just the tip—please, Steve.” You were begging shamelessly, but your shame and embarrassment were still nowhere to be found since you were still definitely drunk.

Steve’s jaw ticked so hard, you could’ve sworn you heard the muscle pop in the quiet of his truck as he ground his teeth together. 

“Buttercup,” he growled, a warning in his tone. “That’s not happening.”

Your fists gathered in the front of Steve’s t-shirt and you yanked on it restlessly, not trying to do anything more than annoy him. “Whyyy,” you whined, drawing out the word until it was nearly a wail. Unslaked heat burned in your blood and, while you knew why he was refusing to have sex with you, in the moment, you couldn’t understand why your oldest friend was torturing you.

Steve’s hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around the front of your throat, and you stilled immediately, something about the possessive, dominant gesture making you calm. That was new, Steve hadn’t done anything like that when you’d first been together, but you liked it more than you would’ve expected. Your lips were still parted, your panting breaths gusting out of them, your heart racing, and you were finally calm and quiet.

Your oldest friend’s eyes roamed over you, taking in your reaction. At first he seemed surprised, but then a glint of something you’d never seen before sparked to life in the depths of his blue eyes. You watched his gaze drop to your mouth, and nearly whimpered at the way the corner of his lips flickered in the ghost of a smirk. But then he fixed his gaze back on yours, pinning you in place with that stubborn look in his eye, though it was slightly dimmed in favor of that new, hungry glimmer. 

“I won’t fuck you only to wake up tomorrow and find out you regret it,” Steve said, enunciating all his words clearly despite the fact that his teeth were grinding together “That you only wanted it because you needed to scratch an itch.” 

Your lungs dragged in a soundless gasp and you finally understood his reticence, even if you couldn’t imagine ever regretting doing anything with Steve. But when you opened your mouth to protest, Steve’s fingers squeezed the sides of your throat. 

Your words died on your tongue, and your mouth went slack, your eyes going hazy with pleasure. You couldn’t have been more obvious that you liked the way Steve choked you if you tried. And he read your enjoyment easily from the expression on your face, that look of hunger sparking brighter in Steve’s eyes before he went on.

“When I fuck you again,” he growled, his words a promise. “I don’t want you drunk on anything but my cock.”

“Stevie,” you whined his nickname again, the name only you were allowed to call him, your lips forming into a pout. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he’d said ‘when’, and not ‘if’, about having sex with you again, but you didn’t want to push your luck. And besides, unslaked need was still burning brightly through your body, consuming most of your focus. “I need…something, please.” You let out a little whimper and squirmed in his lap again, unable to stop yourself.

Steve huffed a laugh, his thumb stroking down the side of your neck, over your thrumming pulsepoint, while the fingers of his other hand slipped half an inch into the waist of your shorts, only far enough to dig harder into your soft curves.  

“I’m not going to touch you more than this, buttercup,” Steve began, his voice a low, delicious rumble that you swore you could feel in the clenching of your core. “But I didn’t say anything about stopping you from touching yourself.”

Your eyes widened in excitement, and you wasted no time in acting on the implication in Steve’s words. Holding his gaze, one of your hands slipped free from his shirt and trailed down your body. When you reached between your thighs, the backs of your fingers brushed against a thick bulge in the front of Steve’s jeans. 

It twitched against your soft touch, and you gasped in delight, loving the proof that Steve’s body recognized you just as much as his mind.

But when you twisted your hand, intent on giving Steve’s bulge a friendly squeeze, his hand darted down from your hips to your wrist, his fingers circling around you and stilling your hand. “Buttercup,” he rumbled, another warning. 

A shiver raced down your spine and you reveled in the way it made you feel to hear Steve say your nickname like that. It occurred to you that it was new—you’d never heard him say it quite like that before, with frustration and arousal flooding his tone. 

You wanted to hear every flavor of your nickname on Steve’s tongue. You wanted to hear him whisper it like a prayer, and groan it into your lips while he kissed you. You wanted to hear Steve shout your nickname while he came with you. 

But the look in Steve’s eyes was stubborn again, and you knew you’d have to wait to hear all the ways he could say your nickname. 

“OK, Steve, ‘m sorry,” you mumbled, twisting your hand in his hold and pressing the tips of your fingers to the seam of your shorts, your hips jerking forward to seek more of the friction you offered yourself. 

Steve’s hold loosened, but he didn’t let go of you entirely, like he didn’t trust you just yet. But you didn’t care, your fingers were pressing into your clit through the thin denim of your shorts, and you were rocking your hips to grind against them, your wetness soaking through your panties almost immediately.

The moment when your fingers found just the right spot, you sucked in a sharp breath, your spine arching and your hips pressing down hard against your hand. Your head tipped back, your eyes narrowing into slits as you held Steve���s gaze. You moaned while you rubbed tight circles against your clit through your shorts.

“I’m going to come embarrassingly fast,” you huffed in warning, your chest heaving already with labored breaths. 

But Steve only smirked, a touch of smugness in the curve of his lips.

“Don’t worry, buttercup, I remember exactly how sensitive your sweet little clit is,” he rumbled, and you moaned loudly. His fingers flexed against your throat, digging in enough to quiet your sounds and making your eyes widen as your hips lurched in their rhythm. He chuckled at your reaction before continuing on.

“I remember sucking on your puffy little pearl, your thighs squeezing my head, my fingers buried deep in your tight, warm hole,” Steve purred, seemingly knowing exactly what to say to drive your pleasure higher. “I remember the exact way your pussy gripped my fingers when you came, like you wanted me deeper—deep enough that you could feel me in your belly.” 

“God, Steve,” you groaned, your head falling back listlessly on your shoulders, too heavy to keep it up. But Steve’s fingers dug into the back of your neck, and you understood the wordless command immediately. You lifted your head and caught your oldest friend’s eye while you kept rubbing your clit, pushing yourself closer to coming apart in his lap. 

“I remember how big your cock felt inside me,” you confessed, spurred on by Steve’s own filthy words. “I remember how long it took for you to sink your thick, fat cock into my tight pussy.” You paused only to take a quick, hitching breath. “I was already so close when you came, and I remember, I thought, maybe if you hadn’t been wearing a condom, maybe I would’ve come, too.” 

The lines of Steve’s face shifted, hardening, his jaw ticking wildly and his eyes going molten fierce, like the blue at the center a campfire that burns too hot to sit near. 

“Don’t fucking say that, buttercup,” Steve growled, his voice gravelly like he was chewing on seashells. “If I hadn’t been wearing a condom, I would’ve come so much faster—I never woulda made it all the way inside you. Woulda been coming with just my tip inside your warm, wet pussy, baby—woulda been too risky, buttercup.” 

Your eyes wanted to fall closed as you moaned, but you didn’t let them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Steve, not with that furious and ferocious hunger in his eyes, his desire for you etched into every single line and curve of his face. 

You were so close. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.

“Fuck, Steve, I know I shouldn’t, but I love the thought of you coming inside me, filling me up, making me yours,” you confessed, the words bubbling up from the very depths of your soul. It was on the tip of your tongue again, that thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself. Instead of letting it free, you moaned, long and loud, your fingers rubbing faster against your clit and your hips grinding against your hand. 

“Christ, baby,” Steve gritted through tightly clenched teeth. His fingers were digging into your hip again, diving further beneath the waist of your shorts, nearly skimming the edge of your panties. His other hand tightened around your throat and dragged you into him, until your face was right in front of his and he could watch every twitch and change in your expression as you pleasured yourself. 

“Come on, baby,” he said, his voice urgent with need. “Come before I do something we’ll both regret.” 

The hand that wasn’t wedged between your thighs pressed to the center of Steve’s chest, just above his heart, and a moment later, you felt his warm palm cover it. He was still holding your throat, his fingers digging into the sides hard enough that you knew he could feel your fluttering pulse beneath his touch. And you could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, the rapid pace nearly matching the frantic one in your chest.

“Come, buttercup, come for me,” Steve commanded, his eyes holding yours. For a moment, it felt like he could see straight into your soul. It was a scorching intimacy you hadn’t felt since that night you’d first been with Steve, and you were helpless to it.

“Stevie,” you cried his name as your pleasure rose up and consumed you, sending you over the edge into a earth-quaking orgasm. Your body writhed in Steve’s lap, your hips grinding gracelessly against your hand as you collapsed forward, leaning into the grip of his hand around your throat. You sobbed your pleasure, the waves of your release wracking your body for long moments.

Eventually, the final swell ebbed and the last of your energy receded with it. Your damp forehead fell against Steve’s cool, dry one and you struggled to catch your breath. His hand slipped from the front of your throat around to the back of your neck and he smoothed it down your spine. 

He held you close, whispering in your ear, “Such a good girl, buttercup, you did so good.”

Once you finally settled, Steve shifted, his beard grazing your lips as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Can I take you home now?” he asked.

You huffed a laugh and slumped against his chest, laying your head sleepily on his shoulder. “I don’t think I can move yet,” you said, slurring your words with tiredness. And drunkenness.

Steve chuckled, but made no attempt to move you. You only felt him lifting his arms around you, though his hands didn’t settle on your body. 

“If you see Sam while you’re back in town, don’t tell him I did this,” Steve murmured in your ear. Then you felt the truck rumbling to life and getting back onto the road and you realized where your oldest friend’s hands were. He was driving you home, with you still sitting boneless in his lap.

When Steve arrived at your rental house, not too long after, he helped you down from his truck and looped an arm around your waist, getting you into the bungalow. Thankfully, you were sated from your release in his truck so you didn’t try to proposition him again, just dutifully did as he said, changing into your pajamas in your bedroom while he waited outside the closed door. 

Then he let you lean against his broad chest while you brushed your teeth and washed your face, before guiding you back to your room and tucking you into bed. Last, he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that was so comforting, and made you feel so safe, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft smile curled your lips.

Before he could leave, your hand darted out and grabbed Steve’s wrist with surprising precision given your state and the fact that your eyes were closed. You dragged them open again, blinking away the bleariness until your childhood friend’s face came into focus. 

“I don’t regret anything we’ve done together, Stevie,” you mumbled, the side of your mouth hitching up in a lopsided smile. “I’m glad you were my first.” You lost the battle with your eyes and they fell closed. You also, apparently, lost the fight against biting back your feelings, murmuring sleepily, “I want you to be my last.”  

For a long moment, Steve was quiet. He seemed to wait until you were just on the edge of sleep before responding to your drunken confession. 

“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk, and I’ll believe you, buttercup,” Steve murmured, ducking down to press a kiss to your hand, still wrapped loosely around his wrist, before carefully extricating himself. 

You were snoring before Steve closed and locked the front door of your bungalow behind him. He walked down the short path to his truck, which sat at the curb, a subtle smile on his lips and a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

[rainisawriter]

Pumpkin Spice Fluff (Flufftober 2023 Masterlist)

🍂 Introduction 🍂

So, for the past few years I've been doing this set called Frightful October but I wanted to do something different this year. I have decided to try my hand at @flufftober this year!

I'm quite nervous because I only found this challenge last month and, as of posting this, I've only completed one lmao I really want to try and get all 31 but I'm not promising anything, knowing how I struggle to finish shit.

I originally planned to make this entire event original fiction however, then I changed my mind and decided to do half original and half fanfiction. I then changed my mind a third time and have decided to go with all fanfiction lmao

This set will be tagged with #RFO - PSF and #RFO - PSF23. You can see this set posted on AO3 and WordPress.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

Ficography under the cut!

🍂 Week 1 (October 1st – 7th) 🍂

Day 1. Cowardly San (San, Ateez) | 3k | fluff, angst, non-idol au

Day 2. To Be Family (Yamato, High&Low) | 4k | fluff, family

Day 3. What Changed? (Jaemin, NCT) | 1k | fluff, college au

Day 4. The Ugly Duckling (Amagai, High&Low) | 7k | angst, fluff

Day 5. Stood Up (Reo, Generations) | 3k | fluff

Day 6. The Sun & Moon (Bernie, High&Low) | 6k | angst, fluff

Day 7. Together-Forever (Woozi, Seventeen) | 7k | fluff, supernatural, romance

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

🍂 Week 2 (October 8th - 14th) 🍂

Day 8. Strange One (Takeshi, High&Low) | 3k | fluff, comedy

Day 9. Luck of the Draw (Wooyoung, Ateez) | 2k | fluff, friendship

Day 10. Made With Love (Shibaman, High&Low) | 5k | fluff, romance, slice of life

Day 11. A Helping Hand (Cobra, High&Low) | 2k | fluff, slice of life, romance

Day 12. One Day, You'll Be Mine (Hitsugaya, Bleach) | 5k | fluff, comedy

Day 13. You've A Lot of Explaining to Do (Yamasho, The Rampage) | 3k | fluff, supernatural

Day 14. Hyuga & the Three Kittens (Hyuga, High&Low) | 4k | fluff, slice of life

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

🍂 Week 3 (October 15th - 21st) 🍂

Day 15. Missing & Cursed (Choutarou, Prince of Tennis) | 6k | fluff, supernatural, magic

Day 16. A Halloween Miracle (Ice, High&Low) | 5k | fluff, romance slice of life

Day 17. Accept Me As I Am (Ryu, the Rampage)

Day 18. To the Hot Springs (Tsuji, High&Low)

Day 19. I'll Never Leave (Renato, Dead by Daylight)

Day 20. To Care for You (Murayama, High&Low) | 5k | fluff, angst, slice of life

Day 21. Welcome to the Realm (Nic, Dead by Daylight) | 3k | fluff, friendship

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

🍂 Week 4 (October 22nd - 28th) 🍂

Day 22. My Beautiful Captain (Futa, High&Low) | 4k | fluff, angst, comfort

Day 23. Little Starfish (Floyd, Twisted Wonderland) | 3k | fluff, soulmate au

Day 24.

Day 25.

Day 26.

Day 27.

Day 28.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

🍂 Week 5 (October 29th - 31st) 🍂

Day 29.

Day 30.

Day 31.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

[the-authoress-writes]

Nadia

Main Blog: @oh-great-authoress

She/Her | no longer a teenager | 🇺🇸🇵🇭 and Proud | Neurodivergent | Roman Catholic | Slytherclaw | ESTJ

🌸My Peeps🌸

This Blog will never have any explicit content, but I would greatly prefer if I could see my followers ages in their profile.

I do not give my permission for any of my stories to be reposted (reblogs are very very welcomed) and/or fed into any AI program of any sort.

Fandoms I Write For:

Top Gun

Ships

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky X Reader

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky X Sarah Kazansky

Top Gun: Maverick

Ships

Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Reader

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell X Reader

Star Wars

Ships

Reylo

Gingerrose/Gingerflower

DCEU

Ships

Quinnflag

House M.D.

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

Masterlist below the cut!

Updated 8/21/24

Top Gun 1986

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Wherever You Go

X Aviator!Reader

Written for @roosterforme’s Top Gun Rocktober Fic Challenge

✨Ongoing Series✨

New Chapter 3/15/24

Synopsis: Tom Kazansky made a mistake.

Or rather, a series of mistakes.

He chose to take the assignment as an instructor at TOPGUN.

He fell in love with one of his students.

He broke her heart.

He chose to leave TOPGUN, and redeploy.

Now, he was stuck onboard the USS Nimitz with the woman whose heart he broke, with no way out.

Unbelievably, that’s not the problem.

Problem is, he still loves her.

Somewhere Out There

X Wife!Reader

Written for @valmare

Synopsis: Deployments are hard, but when you have someone to come home to, someone to love, that makes things easier, painful as it may be.

Dangerous Games

X Navy Nurse Wife!Reader

Synopsis: The saying goes “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes”.

Well, Mrs. Thomas Kazansky is about to learn another version of this saying; “Play dangerous games, win dangerous prizes”.

But she doesn’t exactly mind.

The Comfort of Your Arms

X Nurse Wife!Reader

Written for @callsign-skydancer

Synopsis: When a bad day at the ER leaves Mrs. Kazansky a wreck, she goes to the only place she knows she’s safe.

A Warm Wind Blowing the Stars Around

X Sarah Kazansky

Synopsis: A mandatory visit to Naval Medical Center San Diego leads to more than Tom “Iceman” Kazansky thought possible.

Family

Headcanons

Synopsis: Family has a great deal of meaning for Thomas Kazansky.

It affects and has affected him in more ways than one, and it continues to influence and shape him.

Top Gun: Maverick

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

If You Please

X Lawyer!Reader

Written for @roosterforme’s Top Gun Rocktober Fic Challenge

Synopsis: It’s not everyday that one’s best friend gets married, it’s not everyday that one is asked to be said friend’s Maid of Honor, and it’s certainly not everyday one meets a gorgeous, blond naval aviator.

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing

Mavdad/X Penny Benjamin

Synopsis: What do paperwork and a manicure have to do with Pete Mitchell getting the happy ending he never thought he would?

Everything, apparently.

Up Where We Belong

X Writer!Reader

✨Series Completed 8/21/24✨

Synopsis: When a writer experiencing horrible writer’s block goes to the Apple Valley Airshow for inspiration, she meets a certain older, daring naval aviator, leading to maybe a little more than just inspiration.

Gen Fic

Bradley’s Uncle(s) (And Dad)

Dagger Squad Crack

Synopsis: The Daggers look through Mav’s TOPGUN class yearbook.

What they see surprises most of them.

In other related news, Bradley would like to bleach his brain.

And his ears.

[writeblrsummerfest]

Welcome To Lemon Tree Lane

“Alright,” says Lizzy, holding the camera out in front of her. “This is the house on Lemon Tree Lane. According to the stories, it’s… Well, it’s really haunted.”

The fur on the back of her neck stands on end, and her ears twitch. The house that sits in front of her is old and decrepit, with wood that is bleached by weather and sun, and glass windows that are so coated in filth there’s no way to see inside of them. Even from the end of the path, it’s ominous looking.

“I’m going to be doing something really, really stupid tonight,” says Lizzy, to her audience. She keeps the camera trained on the house but speaks loudly enough that she knows it will pick up the audio. “I’m going in there. I’ll be video taping all of it. It’s something that I’ve got to do. I hope that you all will come along for the ride!”

She clicks the record button off and tucks the camera back into her satchel. Her tail lashes as she starts up the old dirt path to the house on Lemon Tree Lane. She knows all about the stories that inhabit this place. The way that people have disappeared in the past. The things that strangers have seen through the windows.

“Alright, Lizzy.” She tells herself. “None of that matters. You’ve got to do this. No backing out now.”

She adjusts the straps of her backpack and then starts up the walk, towards the house. There’s no one else around. A few old trees, a large stretch of sun-yellowed grass. Her boots drag through the dirt, sending up clouds of red around her.

It stains her fur, makes her nose itch. The dust inside of this place is going to be even worse, and she knows it.

But that doesn’t matter, either.

Lizzy already made her deal. Now she has to see it through to the end.

                                                         -*-

Write your minky (or other character!) as they first encounter the house at Lemon Tree Lane. This will be an ongoing challenge! Every day, we’re going to see a little bit more of Lizzy’s story and get a new Lemon Tree Lane prompt. Let’s explore the haunted house together!

                                                           -*-

Welcome to the first day of the Writeblr Summerfest! We have so many amazing things planned for this month, but first, I want to introduce Lizzy! She’s the driving force behind the community selected Haunted House theme for the festival this year!

Now, before we get started, I want you to take a look at Lizzy! She’s the mascot this year! She’s called a minky, and her character sheet was made by the lovely @mothersart! Now, Mother has volunteered her services to do what we’re calling grab bag commissions for anyone that wants their own minky explorer to take part in the events!

Here’s a LINK to her commission sheet, but I’ll summarize it for you, too! She has two options.

$10 gets you a total grab-bag surprise minky explorer, you don’t get to customize it but you get to own the character forever onward!

$15 lets you pick a ‘theme’ for the explorer; do you love pastel goth? Cottagecore? Skateboarding? Let her know, and it will be the inspiration for your minky (ps, you still own them)!

While it’s not a requirement, I highly recommend you considering it if you’ve got the spare change laying around! Mother has been a huge help getting things together with the event this year, and her minkies are just absolutely amazing!

Beyond that, we’ve got a special challenge for you! Did you see how we all got to see Lizzy finding the house on Lemon Tree Lane? Well, she’s put out a challenge for all of the other explorers out there!

[starcrashx]

II.

They are happy your honour.

You could say that Galen was terrible at social interactions. And you would be totally right. After he agreed to be adopted by Anakin Skywalker two days had passed. In those two days he was planning ahead on what he will say to his family. He composed a nice and polite greeting and even planned small talk with the twins and Obi-wan if the latter was present. The boy of course didn't forget his night outs however today his thoughts were occupied by his new family rather than her. He turned his head to the side and searched for the big dipper. He was also kind of afraid that he would forget her.

×⭐×

"Ready kid?" asked Anakin, who was standing before a gray car.

Galen stood before him with just one bag that contained his school supplies and some clothes. The boy's eyes were fixated on the backseat of the car rather than Anakin. The man followed his gaze and smiled.

"C'mon Luke greet him!" said his father and opened the car door.

The blond boy practically jumped out of the car he was smiling widely and his gaze held a curious shine in them.

"Hi! My name is Luke Skywalker. My father told me about you, Galen was it?" beamed Luke.

"Nice to meet you too. I'm Galen Marek." said Galen politely.

"Alright let's go. We don't want to be late after all." said Anakin and Luke jumped back into the car however this time he sat on the other seat, leaving the one he previously sat to Galen.

The boy hesitate a bit. He turned around to look at the orphanage. Some of his caretakers were waving to him and smiled at him. Than he looked back at the car where Anakin already took the driver seat and Luke patted the space beside him gently. Galen took a deep breath and mentally said goodbye to his old life. He sat down beside Luke and closed the car door. He put his luggage down to the car's floor, between his legs. Then Anakin started the car and as the car left the orphanage so did his chance to think twice about his decision.

"You are really skinny." said Luke after observing the newcomer.

Galen looked questioningly at him, not knowing what is the right answer to that question. Fortunately Anakin came to his rescue.

"That was a bit rude, son."

Luke held up his hand in defence.

"Sorry but it's true. But don't worry uncle Obi-wan makes great dishes. Oh and aunt Ashoka's meat ball with tomato sauce is awesome you have to try it." rambled the blond boy.

So there were more people in this family. No worries Galen prepared for this too.

"Hey how about my roasted chicken?"

"Not to be that guy dad but even Leia's weird broccoli shake is better than that."

"Oof that was a low blow." said Anakin and pretended that he got physically hurt by the comment.

Luke giggled and Galen smiled.

"Broccoli shake?" asked Galen curiously.

"Yeah there is a rumor that broccoli shake is good for the skin so my sister decided to test that theory. This isn't even the weirdest thing she's ever done tho." explained Luke.

"Like the one time when she bleached strawberries because one of her classmates said that it was possible to have white strawberries and when she said he was wrong he challenged her to prove it?" chuckled Anakin at the memory.

"Like that. You see Galen, my sister likes to test things out and prove something is right or wrong."

Galen's reaction was a quiet "oh" at the explanation. It really was a weird habit but it was certainly better than his was.

"So how old are you?" asked Luke again.

"I'm 15 years old."

At the information Luke's eyes glint in joy. Galen thought it was rather amusing.

"We are too! That means we are triplets! Right?"

"I don't think that's how triplets work." said Galen carefully.

Anakin laughed at his son's silliness.

"Alright Luke enough questions. You will have plenty of time getting to know Galen when everyone is present."

"But whyyy." whined Luke.

"So Galen doesn't have to tell everything twice." came the simple answer.

"Aww you are such a killjoy." pouted Luke.

Galen smiled again and Anakin let out a small laugh. Maybe this won't be so bad after all for Galen.

×⭐×

Oh boy how wrong he was. When they arrived at a small village that was quite close to the town Galen didn't know what to expect. But whatever he did, it wasn't even close to the truth. Anakin parked before a big farm house. Luke previously told Galen that they were living with their aunt and uncle. But what surprised the boy the most is when they stepped inside the house. They immediately stepped into the living room where there were more people than Galen would anticipate. The little plan that formed inside his head shattered the moment he saw that this was a party. For him. Two girls held a "Welcome home Galen" sign. There was a huge dinner table beside the couch that was full with all kinds of food and drinks. There was also a vanilla cake in the middle with "Welcome" written on it. Galen must have been silent for too long since one of the men (who by the way looked so similar to the other 3 men that were also in the room) asked:

"You don't like vanilla?"

That made everyone chuckle however Galen panicked at the question asked not picking up on the joke.

"N-No that's... that's not it. It isn't at all, pardon my stumbling i-it's just not what I-" before he could make an even bigger fool out of himself Anakin stopped Galen with a wave.

"Relax kid Fives was just joking."

"You made the kid feel shit are you proud?" smacked Fives head the other man beside him.

"Echo language!" said an older man across the table.

"Sorry Cody!"

"God this is a disaster." shook her head Leia.

"I didn't even expect anything else from you guys. Great job." said sarcastically a ginger haired man with a beard.

"How about we sit down and eat? The food will be cold and I don't know about you but putting together that Mac and cheese was a nightmare." sighed the brown skinned girl who held the other half of the sign.

They went through all this trouble just for Galen and he didn't even show any signs of appreciation towards their efforts.

"I'm sorry for the poor reaction. The truth is I'm really bad at talking to people. I was almost always alone as far as I can remember. But I really do appreciate the effort and the work you put into this. Thank you." confessed the boy shyly.

That earned fond smiles from everyone in the room which helped Galen relax a bit. Although Luke was frowning.

"You didn't seem to have communication problems when we talked in the car tho."

"That's because, oh god this will sound weird. The conversation went according to what I planned."

"To what you planned?" asked the man on Cody's right who was the most different from the other 3.

"Yes. I do a graph about the possible questions or topics according to the situation. And then I write answers to them." said Galen slowly.

That earned a suprised expression from everyone one. The ginger haired man looked astonished Cody beside him looked rather deadpaned.

"Wait do you have those on you? I kinda want to see it." said Anakin while smiling.

"Yeah I'm curious too!" chided in Luke.

"A-Alright."

Fives and Echo made space on the table and Galen opened his bag. He fished around in it for a while before he proceeded to pull out a blue notebook. He opened it and showed some of his work. Luke was bewildered.

"Oh my god. Some of these are exactly what I said! Are you a wizard?"

"No of course not. It's just simple statistics. You can't predict the future because the future changes constantly. However you can predict the most likely question that a person is going to ask based on the situation." explained Galen.

"Jesus kid you should have socialized instead of writing these. At your age I had a girlfriend." said Fives but even he was impressed.

"Fives you are 18. And you never had a girlfriend."

"How would you know Rex! You weren't even there."

"I don't have to be there to know this basic fact."

Everyone laughed at the last comment the tension from before melted away in an instant. After discussing what a genius Galen was (he wasn't he was just desperate for good impressions) they introduced themselves to Galen and  started eating. Galen was sitting beside Anakin and Cody.

"Do you like the cake? We didn't know what you liked so we settled on a basic vanilla cake." said Cody.

"It's really good! It looked so professionally made that I thought it was store bought." said Galen politely.

Cody and his siblings laughed.

"That's because we own the Fett cafe. We also serve desserts not just coffees. It started out as a small business but now we have four shops. One here and there is another in the town too. The other two are a bit far from here." said Rex who was clearly proud of their achievements.

"You look really skinny Galen. Did you eat anything in that orphanage?" asked Ashoka.

"Well yes but we never got much since there were a lot of children and the orphanage's founding... wasn't the best."

"Then eat. You are still growing after all." said Obi-wan.

"Growing? Where? He is taller than me and Leia already." whined Luke.

Everyone laughed at his comment and the rest of the dinner was spent with small talk. Galen stumbled here and there but he thought his performance was okay. After that Anakin showed him around the house.

"Since Leia is in the age of needing her own space, you are going to room with Luke. Hope it's not a problem." said Anakin sheepishly.

"Of course it's okay. I'm used to having roommates."

Galen didn't know what he did to make that impression on Anakin that he would need his own room. He hoped he didn't seem selfish, that would be terrible. When they entered Luke's room the first thing that grabbed Galen's attention was a sword. When Anakin noticed this he said:

"Ah yeah. Back in the days Obi-wan liked to go fencing. He is extremely good at it. I was interested in learning from him just like Ashoka and it became a family thing. If you are interested too, I would be more than happy to teach you too." smiled Anakin fondly at the memory.

"I will think about it." nodded Galen.

After that everyone went to sleep and the Fett brothers left. Although Luke, Leia and Ahsoka begged them to stay, Cody said they needed to open early tomorrow and they had to bake some cakes too. Galen was staring at the ceiling of his newly shared room with Luke. The said boy was happy when his father said that Galen will sleep in his room. Now he was sound asleep. Galen missed his usual night out but he broke his habit for the sake of his new family. So far he enjoyed being with the Skywalkers. And he firmly hoped they felt the same way about him.

[pickletrip]

I've always loved anime ever since I watched Cardcaptors and Pokemon as I was growing up. The shows I watched as I entered my teens have nothing on the animes I've seen during the same time - Digimon, Beyblade and the like. So then I wondered why it took me so long to rediscover that love and joy I experienced watching Sakura and Ash do their thing.

As I entered University I had the sudden urge to rewatch Cardcaptors, to recall that nostalgia and be enamoured by these wonderful characters and plots. Of course the show didn't strike me as hard as it did back then, but I was determined to rediscover my love for it. So, to restart my journey the most recommended show was Death Note.

This show absolutely blew my mind away and I genuinely couldn't understand why I had stopped watching anime in the first place because this show changed everything for me. It is intricate in the most beautiful way. Light and L and 2 characters who live with me daily because that's how charismatic they are. I was pumped up and finally knew that there was no turning back. So I jumped head first into whatever I could get my hands on. That's when I came across Tokyo Ghoul.

It challenged my whole understanding of good and evil, just like Death Note did, sending me reeling and leaving me feeling flabbergasted as I watched each episode. Was this the turning point in my life? Almost. Close enough. After graduating and beginning a new job I heard my friends talking about a show called Bleach. I couldn't understand anything they said, and all the references they made. I didn't want to be left behind, so I looked it up.

Little did I know what I was signing up for when I watched that first episode. Everyone told me that I'd take forever to finish all 15 seasons (the latest season hadn't come out in 2019). I told them, "Watch me finish this show without skipping a single filler episode."

Ichigo Kurosaki and his band of friends cemented my love for anime. There was no turning back after this.

I've watched many many shows after Bleach. The list is quite long. I've loved almost all the shows I've watched, but nothing as much as I loved Bleach. That is until I started Haikyuu!! a few days ago.

I put off watching this show for a long time because it was sports related and I have no idea about Volleyball. But as soon as I saw Hinata and Kageyama and the team from Karasuno, I knew I was sleeping on something great. The grit, passion and endurance that this show channels into our lives is insane. I'm not obsessed with just Hinata's success, but I'm thoroughly invested in understanding every single opposing team they play. That's how good the show is. As I enter season 5 of Haikyuu!! I can't help but feel so joyful about their journey.

I'm reminded of my timid beginnings, where I would choose to watch shows with a limited number of episodes. But that's the past. I'm here to watch characters living their best lives, battling through thick and thin, irrespective of whether they emerge victorious.

For the love of anime.

[bleachbleachbleach]

2022/2023 Fandom Goals!

At the end of last year I set out to accomplish what then appeared to be achievable fandom goals for 2022. 

WERE THEY, THOUGH. WERE THEY. 

Let’s see:

2022 Goals (Review)

1. be more shameless on Tumblr - I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten at least a little better about this, though I guess it depends on the day. Posting things on the Internet causes me anguish, and I consider doing so an intentional conditioning process. All the same, I would still like to feel less anguish. But I also don’t want to be actively annoying or boring and simply be *unanguished* about it, LOL, and therein lies my hangup.

2. stop damning reblogs to Draft Purgatory - I have been very good about this this year! Browser tabs purgatory, on the other hand…

3. prioritize accessible joy - This one was about not abandoning Tumblr for months at a time, and I feel like I’ve actually improved here and merely abandoning Tumblr for 1-2 weeks at a time. One thing that was way more helpful than it had any business being was making a special "mini dash" that just has blogs that primarily post original Bleach content and/or mutuals who are friends, so that if I get overwhelmed I can jump ship and use that dash for a while instead, and still get to see a lot of my favorite things. I say this like my normal dash isn’t mostly Bleach and like I follow a zillion active blogs. I do not. That’s why it’s ridiculous that my mini dash is as great for me as it is. XD 

4. finish reading the Soul Society arc - I am on… Chapter 68 LOL, and Ichigo has not yet so much as entered Soul Society. Making progress on this re-read is challenging because there are a lot of ways to enjoy Bleach and this reread is the only one that’s not a moving target—the manga’s not going anywhere; I’m not going to 'fall behind' if I don’t read it—and I have a regrettably limited amount of Bleach time. But I think I’ve become more confident in my reading/ability to search stackexchange and read about grammar, so I am still enjoying this!

5. write my fanfic - I wish I had done more of this, but this was a Year—a huge number of moving pieces IRL. I think last year I had written like… 10k of this fanfic? And now I have probably 20-30k, and most of that original 10k got scrapped. This fic has done a lot of shape-taking this year, which is very good. I had these grand plans of finishing two full chapters (Akon and Matsumoto 5) by the end of the year, which I have modified to finishing one chapter. I have *one scene left* but I think it’s probably in the Top 5 of Scenes in This Fic That I Already Know Are Going to be Hard to Write, and I’ve already written and deleted it once. There were so many bugs in the deleted version, so many bugs for absolutely no reason. I don’t know what the scene will ultimately look like, but I can assure you you’d never guess what scene used to Have Bugs, because there is so little reason there should have been bugs.

2023 Goals

1. Write my fanfic! For the sake of SMART goals, let’s say at least 1 line per day, every single day. Come March I will have been writing this for two years and WHAT do I have to show for it.

2. No more tabs purgatory! I don’t know how obvious B3’s posting habits are to others—but for my part of the equation, I tend to be That Person who reblogs 15 long textposts and adds 90 tags to everything, all the span of the same 2-hour block. I don’t think this is actually a good way of using Tumblr and I’d prefer to… not do that. XP And to find ways of being more with the flow of the dash. 

This is mostly me needing to carve out better interstitial space for fun time, because I want this for my own pleasure and I also because I want the OP to know how VERY EXCITED I AM TO SEE IT and tabs purgatory feels like the opposite of being able to do that. SMART goal? Uhhh don’t let tabs languish for more than a week?

3. Make space for fandom, and for fandom things that give me most joy. Again, this is part of a broader life assessment that in a better world would boil down to "working less" but in this world is not accessible if I want to continue being employed. So I’ll settle for being extremely intentional about how I spend my free time, and by consciously thinking about ways to create the kinds of interactions I most enjoy. That sounds very cerebral but I promise I just mean things like "that meme where I asked people to send in random stuff they loved about their Bleach faves was super fun I should do that again sometime" and "try to make friends" and "talk about fanfic with people” and “make progress on that bleach reread occasionally.”

4. Be more shameless on Tumblr. YEAH I have no strategies here, but I’m gonna keep this one on the list.

[lerya-fanfic]

I posted 120 times in 2022

14 posts created (12%)

106 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cyborg-franky

@phoenixkaizen

@arielxlazarus

@autpunk-arsonist

@marco--the--phoenix

I tagged 41 of my posts in 2022

#one piece - 14 posts

#fanfiction - 11 posts

#writers of tumblr - 5 posts

#marco the phoenix - 4 posts

#writing - 2 posts

#portgas d. ace - 2 posts

#fanfic - 2 posts

#this - 2 posts

#bleach - 2 posts

#writers - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 37 characters

#i keep thinking someone else wrote it

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hello. I'm here to ask for your permission to translate A grandfather's gift to keep the family together from One Piece to Portuguese-Brazil, I really liked the story and I wanted other Brazilian fans to read it, I'll give all the credits and if you allow I'll be translating on wattpad with the user of ET-Black.

Hi, I don’t mind. I already have someone who translates to Portuguese but she doesn’t do One Piece, so you can go ahead. Please send me the link after you finished so I can link it in the original. And give propper credit :) Otherwise have fun ^^ 

2 notes - Posted June 9, 2022

#4

~ ONE WANDERING ASK ~

A solitary ask is now in your box!

Do you have any WIPs?

I have a lot of WIPs to be honest. Right now I have 5 WIPs in progress, that are being posted weekly. 7 WIPs that are being written, but aren't finished yet. 6 WIPs that have been written, but aren't published/posted yet. And 37 WIPs that the Plunny dropped on me that I haven't started on yet.

3 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

#3

Can I brag about this?  I’m just going to do it, but I’m almost as 1K user subs on AO3 - and for some reason that feels like a milestone!

4 notes - Posted January 25, 2022

#2

Fic Writer Wrapped - 2021 edition

I was tagged by @theladygia (thanks for that btw!) on main, so I hope they that I do this on my fanfic account xD

How many stories did you complete?

In total? Over 100, but 93 of those are from October challenges, so I don’t think those count xD 

Full lenght, or multi chap ones; 25

What is your total word count for the year?

1.3 Million 

What fandoms did you write in this year?

One Piece, Naruto, Bleach, Harry Potter, MCU, Teen Wolf - I think those are the main ones.

Did you write more, less, or roughly about what you expected?

More, a lot more. I kept getting attacked by my muse and couldn’t just leave well enough alone.

But I enjoyed every moment of it, and am very rpoud of the things I did pyblush this year.

What’s your favorite story of the year?

I can’t believe this is how I fell in love

It’s a sugar daddy/suger baby MarAce fic that just popped up and wouldn’t let me go. I loved writing it, and going from reviews people loved reading it too. 

What is your most underappreciated story of the year?

I don’t know to be honest, I think I’m doing rather well overall. I think my stats are amazing, so I don’t think I have one really.

Biggest fanfic-related disappointment of 2021?

Spelling mistakes, I have this annoying habit of reading over my own mistakes and as such don’t always notice that I left glaring errors in my fics.

People are pointing them out to me, and I go and correct them. I also have someone who is looking over the fics for me, even if I don’t know if I need a beta-reader per se (I just need someone who points them all out).

Biggest fanfic-related surprise of 2021?

The amount of writing I got in, and the suprising easy way I could get them in.

Not to brag or anything, but if I put my mind to it I could get a chapter finished in about an hour. Given that I write at least 2 hours idea, it isn’t that much of a surprise that I can hit 2.5K words a day, on avarage.

Something you look forward to working on in 2022?

My prompts, I want to explore more about what I can do. With they way there are so many prompts lists out there, as well as the option of readers to send some ine I feel like I’ll accomplish a lot this year!

I’m gonna tag… @know-it-all-hermione, @chromiwrites, @phoenixkaizen and @arielxlazarus

6 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Davy Back Fight!

@phoenixkaizen, @aspiringtrashpanda, and​ Shadow (no tumblr) completed our fic for the @davy-back-fight; which you can read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41315799 

 It was really fun to do, especially with such amazing writers! <3

8 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[meeeemilfyway]

ULTIMATE GET YOUR LIFE TOGETHER THREAD

So this is a tribute // fanfic?? Of an old thread “life hacks to adult effectively” by i believe deadly little Kate

Anyways i could only find screenshots of this thread so lets make a updated list and start f*cking life for once!!

Key:

() who its by

[🛸] my update , purple writing

I think numbered makes it easier to keep track of list

Resources:

1- 32 is deadly little Kate

1. Even if you get along with family you’ll be even better after moving out

2. Generic is almost = to name brand

Exception :

- peanut butter [🛸] you can make

-ketchup [🛸] you can make

-Liquid NyQuil

-chips a hoy chewy

-spaghetti sauce [🛸] you can also make this

3. At least once your card will decline for something as little as 20$. No one will judge its okay to have 3$ in your bank we’ve all been there

4.thrift stores

[🛸]esp for books

5. Everyone also is anxious, too anxious to worry about you boo

6. You will screw up a lot. Live & learn . What’s done is done move on

7.do dishes before an ecosystem grows

[🛸]even if you soak in hot soapy water walk away, you did something

8.dawn cant go in dishwasher

9.cart surfing is cool anywhere anytime

10.15% tip

11.easy way you might be able to get food is by parents or grandparents

12. endure the sucky days of life

[🛸]i write a vent diary , then write either

-> positive from it

->transmute (transform) that energy

13.in lightbulbs 60w is not interchangeable w/ 40w

14. $ store batteries = any brand

15. Reward yourself

Pay a bill? -> go to coffee bean [🛸]its way better than Starbucks, trust

16.buy bulk food:

- rice

-flour

[🛸] get wheat berries, and buy a cheap mill so the flour wont rot

-sugar

[🛸]brown sugar is white sugar + molasses , store with a piece of bread to keep from hardening

-cheese

-eggs

[🛸]get quail!! Eggs are more nutritious and they are small enough to keep in a laundry bin also apartment friendly super quiet

-frozen fruit & veggies

17. Rice can be cooked on stove 2:1 water to rice

18. Keep a PHYSICAL calendar of bill due dates

19.take time to eat even when you feel like not eating

[🛸]also chew food till smashed to prevent bloating & indigestion

20. Scrub & rinse dishes before dishwasher

21.the works is an excellent toilet cleaner

22.magic eraser work

[🛸]pls buy the 100 pk on amazon off brand instead of the 2 sponges for 3$

23.keep bleach around bu if you clean dilute it

[🛸]never clean dog pee , its mustard gas

24.DO NOT MIX CLEANERS

List of no no

-

25.if you drink don’t take meds

[🛸]also don’t sun bathe

26.check dosages on bottles

[🛸]when disposing prescription, peel off tag it has numbers that trace to ur medical ID

27.uterus humans, heating pad is a life saver and ginger tea for nausea

[🛸]

- diy heating pad: rice in a sock microwave 30 sec

- cinnamon tea helps w/ cramps

28.buy a first aid kit

29.turbo tax is a good tax online

[🛸]idk about anyone else but my highschool accounting class offered free services to the public so students can get extra credit

30.yeast infection info:

[🛸]

-cranberry pills for when you feel even the slightest of discomfort

-Cranberry juice at least weekly to prevent

-chamomile tea cooled to rinse, and ease any pain

-BORIC ACID

31.petroleum jelly replaces chapstick

32.antibiotic ointment should be kept in first aid

Hilarious side note i took a break and lost the thingy but wrote 9 as a note to not waste any further time and stress ill continue with others

33.mewing - a technique for a better jawline

Tongue posture

34.warm water and cold exit in shower

35.read 5 pages a day

36.75 day hard challenge

Or soft ?

37. Journaling everything

~dreams

~venting

~manifestation

~shopping list

38.set sort term and long term goals

39 gym

YMCA is super cheap

I saw on a website that the YMCA is offered free on EBT

Or try the family plan

40.for low confidence keep promises to ur self even small ones

41.don’t write off short workouts

20 min consistently is better than 60 min and burning out

42. Buy a liter water bottle

Goal:once a day then

2x a day

43.try to clean your bedding weekly as a habit

~invest in bedding you that sparks joy

44.organize room in a junebugging way to avoid burnout

45.invest in self care especially shower time

46.rosemary oil in roots & hair nightly massage

~so many benefits

47.push yourself to walk daily then 2x morning & night

48.YOLO srsly be cringey if its you <3

49.message old friends personal jokes and try to catch up

50.become your dream person

Compliment people

Share

Talk sweetly

51.sunshine exposure in the am regulates ur sleep schedule

52.vitamin c in the morning and make sure you wear sunscreen after also, avoid ur eye area

~for acne scars

~dark pigmentation

53.Korean sunscreen > us sunscreen your eyes wont burn

54.sunscreen your chest!!!

55.witch hazel > tea tree oil , coming from sensitive skin gorly

56.those back braces for posture don’t work , strengthen back muscles

57.some people say coconut oil is clogging but for me my skin was glowing plump and hydrated

If acne prone ~castor oil or almond oil

58.shea butter raw is really thick and putting on ur skin kinda pulls it

-use a mixer

-hand mix with a lotion till softened

59.castor oil your lashes nightly

60.don’t be afraid to thrift

-but maybe wear some gloves cause I saw that you can get hand foot mouth disease from searching bins

61.don’t be afraid to dumpster dive

ESP Best Buy , Ulta , Sephora ,tech places

62.DONT DRINK ALCOHOL , that ages you and dries you up if you do wine is good for your heart everything else kinda makes ur body shutdown

-alcohol addiction is deadlier than meth esp getting trying to quit kills you

there’s psychedelic fizzy drinks

63.if you get a traffic ticket , go to court dispute it

-> ask when last calibrated, with evidence

Most of the time cops neglect to re calibrate as often as supposed to so it’ll get dropped

64.HR is only good for a paper trail sending 2-3 complaints with no resolution & unanswered is enough to send to OSHA / EEOC

speaking of email every conflict to urself as a paper trail

65.got a mole you don’t like ? Tell ur doctor it itches (sign of cancer ) could possibly get paid off , max 3 times

66.ever recorded without consent ? Play Disney music its copyrighted

67.open a high yield savings acct ASAP , that interest builds up

-> as of 2023 , discover has the highest

68.follow at least 1 finance YouTuber and watch their uploads every update

69.quit p0rn.. srsly life is too short & makes you tired on top of the other downsides such as body image (any and all genders )

70.bad people can try to sue you, even if they hit your car

-> make sure you call the cops & find a witness

Record exactly front back their vehicle & yours ,, best if you have a camera both sides of vehicle

Record the conversation & ask if they are ok ,,,make recording of them admitting !!!! , even if they are “nice”

71.so when renting a car & you need 3rd party insurance ; for progressive it covers rental

Check if your big insurance also covers & don’t only go with first pressure

don’t be pressured & advocate by doing research ~TikTok ,, divolvere (I tried to simplify her story to like what the advise part was )

72. Casino vist

A. Pick loudest machine in most populated area

B. Find a machine with smallest max bet & bet the max

C. Don’t hit feature within 5 spins move

~averybrynn1

I don’t recommend gambling but to each their own

73. If theres gonna be a draft get “fuck you “ or etc on ur right pinky outside hand ,, itll disrespect ur officer

i want “faggy” in cursive super y2k thick bold (im bi & fae )

74. (By a financial advisor on reddit )

- save 10% of every paycheck into reitrement account

~dont touch this account until retirement , or able to live off 4% the rest of your life

~invest majority into lowrisk and some into higher risk stocks or upcoming businesses

- FDIC insured savings account

~after taxes emergency fund with 3 months of savings

include : car , car emergency , home , home emergency

75. Never consent a police officer searching your vechile or house vecause a search warrant provides a lot less area where they are allowed to look

- your consent is to only hurt you, politely ask for a search warrant

76. Never do more than one illegal thing at a time

77. Always surround yourself with people who believe in you

78.

[therk900]

🎄December TC Challenge (Day 1-31)🎄

1. Have you ever had any TCs before? If yes, describe them very briefly Yes. I have 4. S is tall and really cute. He is one of the kindest people you will ever meet. B is taller than me but not as tall as S and is handsome. He is there when you need him and he is so lovely. M is so fun he teaches. A is just so sweet and adorable.

2. What is the main thing that attracted you to them? Their personality and looks

3. In an ideal world where you’re similar ages, they’re not your teacher and they return your feelings, how far would you like your relationship with them to go? (Friends, dating, marriage., etc.) MARRIAGE ALL THE WAY 

4. How much of your attraction to them is sexual, romantic, platonic, aesthetic or admiration? Great question for my birthday! In the middle of sexual and romantic

5. Have you found them on social media? If yes, have any of their posts caught your attention? I have found S and M on lots of different social media pages but it’s all private. I haven’t told both of them yet that I have found them. I may ask to follow them when I graduate though. i am still on the hunt to find A & B's social media. i know they have it!

6. What is one song that makes you instantly think of your TC? A song that reminds me of B is “here with me” by d4vd. For S, that song would be “Enchanted” by Taylor Swift. For A, maybe “Hard for me” by Charley. For M, it would be “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers

7. At this current moment in time, what is your relationship like and how close to them are you? With S, we are SO FUCKING CLOSE to the point that I know I can’t turn back now. With B, We are close but not as close as S and I. M and i are also really tight! It's the same with A

8. If they hugged you, how do you think you would react? I would definitely hug them back while my heart would be absolutely melting, and i would be going feral

9. Have they ever said or done anything which gave you the ick? S decided to cut and bleach his hair at the start of the school year. My friend didn’t even recognise him. That didn’t stop me loving him though since it's back to normal now!

10. How do other students generally see your TC? Are they well liked or seen to be disliked a lot? S, M and B are liked by students. Some students even give S nicknames (This includes me. I have a little nickname for S and I call him by it all the time. He doesn't mind at all!). If A taught at my school, i'm guessing he would also be liked by students!

11. Have you ever felt jealous when you saw them with another student? If so, why? No. I know it's their job to help other students

12. How do you think they see you? Do they appear to have a good opinion of you? Hopefully they all see me in a positive light. They have a good option of me, I think. A said that i was his favourite student. i also think that M sees me as a good student since i participate in his class lots!

13. If your TC had to teach something else, what subject would you choose for them? I feel like B would teach Humanities and S seems like the guy to teach some sort of art subject

14. What do you think a typical evening looks like for them? S plays a sport outside of school on some nights, so he plays that then goes home to do some marking or chill. For B, I think it would consist of him marking work. A seems like the type of person who would go to a bar sometimes with his mates. M may just be sleeping or spending time with his family

15. Has your TC taken any holidays which you know about? If yes, where did they go and what did they do? I know that S recently went to Tokyo. I think he went to Disneyland while he was there. I recommend that he went there during Halloween since it’s all Halloween themed. He also went to Cairns in Australia. He visited the Great Barrier Reef which he said was really cool!

16. If you got the opportunity to have a date with them, where would you go and what would you do together? B: Going down to the beach when there is a sunset S: Out to a fancy restaurant most likely A: Watching a movie at a cinema M: Chill out at a park maybe

17. What’s the weirdest dream you’ve had about them? this is the weirdest one i've had so far, i guess. So, S and I were somehow riding a Penny-farthing together and we went to this massive fair thing. I then saw a teacher I had for 2 years in one of the tents. He yelled “what’s that?” While running over to it. He ran behind a wall of a tent and then I yelled “there’s this instead” while pulling out a pineapple. He crazily ran back while grabbing it. He then walked out as if nothing happened. Later on, we witnessed B fall down a MASSIVE staircase and just walked off like nothing happened like the other teacher. S and I wondered how in the world he didn’t die. Then we just chilled out for the rest of the time and sadly that's where the dream ended

18. What do they usually sit like while teaching? S sits with his back completely straight and his legs closed while he is mostly on his laptop doing work. B was more chill. He leaned back in the chair and sometimes his legs would be open a tiny bit. A is kind of similar to B, but the only difference is that we sit closer together! He also does the leg bounce thing like i do! I personally haven't seen M sit down that much while teaching since he is always up and about, but i have seen it once. He usually leans in while he lets his head rest on his hand!

19. If known, how long have they been teaching for? B taught at my school for 2 years and S has teaching for 3 years. M has been doing it for 4 years at my school.

20. Have you got any pictures of them? If yes, how did you get them? i have got pictures of all of them and I get them from our school website and social media pages

21. If you could tell them one thing with no limits, what would it be? i would tell them all that i like them!

22. How are you dealing with your feelings for them? Are you pulling away or getting closer to them? I’m getting closer with them in some way. But now that B is gone, i feel like i'm semi pulling away from him, but there will still be that part of me that will still like him

23. If you heard your TC was now famous, what do you think it would be for? For B, he may be working in politics. For S, maybe a scientist and maybe curing something. A and M would most likely both be mathematicians

24. If you could get them anything as a Christmas gift, what would you choose and why? I would most likely buy chocolate for all of them, since you can't go wrong with that 99% of the time.

25. Does your TC like Christmas? Merry Christmas everyone! I’m pretty sure they all like Christmas!

26. If known, what are your TCs political beliefs? I have no idea about their political beliefs

27. Does your TC set much homework? B and S did set a tiny bit of homework. M kind of did! A doesn't

28. Do you know if any other student has a crush on your TC? I’m HOPING that no other student likes them the way I do 

29. Is your TC currently dating anyone to your knowledge? Well, i know that M is married. i'm not sure of the others

30. If your TC was a colour, what colour would they be and why? B would be green because green is a calm colour and B is calm 99% of the time, and green is known to be a calming colour. I feel like A, M and S would be yellow because they are bright!

31. In the new year, how would you like your TCs class to progress?  In a positive way, I guess

[lasso001]

How to Choose and Use Compression Stockings

Specialised clothing called compression stockings is made to increase blood flow in the legs. For people with certain medical issues or those who require extra support while standing or sitting for extended periods of time, they can be of great use. You may use this tutorial to better understand compression stocking selection and application.

The Best Compression Stockings to Buy

Consult a Healthcare Professional

Consult with a healthcare expert, such as a doctor or specialist, before purchasing compression stockings. They will assess your condition and prescribe the optimal compression level, measured in millimetres of mercury (mmHg).

Depending on your demands, compression levels range from light (15-20 mmHg) to exceptionally firm (30-40 mmHg).

Determine the Style

Your choice of style should align with the area of your legs that requires compression. Knee-high stockings work well for mild to moderate issues in the lower legs, while thigh-high or full-length stockings may be necessary for more severe conditions.

Select the Correct Size

Measure your legs accurately, including the circumference of your ankle, calf, and thigh, as well as the length from your heel to just below your knee or thigh, depending on the style. Use the manufacturer's sizing chart to ensure an accurate fit.

Using Compression Stockings Effectively

Putting Them On Correctly

Donning compression stockings can be challenging, but the following steps can help:

a. Gather the stocking, turning it inside out up to the heel.

b. Place your hand into the stocking and grasp the heel.

c. Insert your foot into the stocking, making sure the heel is positioned correctly.

d. Gradually roll or pull the stocking up your leg, smoothing out any wrinkles as you go.

If you have trouble putting on compression stockings, you might want to use a stocking donner, a tool that makes application easier.

Wear Them Consistently

Wear your compression stockings consistently as directed by your healthcare practitioner to reap the maximum advantages. They should typically be worn during the day and taken off at night before sleeping.

However, depending on your situation, the suggested timeframe and frequency may change. It's crucial to follow your doctor's recommendations.

Maintain Proper Care

In order for compression stockings to be effective and durable, they must be properly cared for:

a. Hand wash them in lukewarm water and a light detergent. Avoid using bleach or abrasive cleaners.

b. Rinse thoroughly to remove all soap residue.

c. Gently squeeze out excess water, avoiding wringing.

d. Lay them flat on a clean towel to air dry. Avoid using heat sources like radiators or dryers.

Replace as Needed

Compression stockings may become less elastic and effective with time. It's critical to replace them whenever you see symptoms of wear and tear or diminished compression. To make sure your stockings are in good shape, regularly check them for holes, runs, or other damage.

Conclusion

Enhancing leg circulation and controlling a variety of medical issues are two areas where compression stockings may be quite helpful. You can make sure that your compression stockings offer the support you need for your leg health and general well-being by working with a healthcare expert to choose the right compression level and style, wearing them appropriately, taking good care of them, and changing them as required. Consult your healthcare professional for advice and modifications if you are experiencing pain or have any concerns about using compression stockings.

[dailyknowledgerecommendation]

How to cleanyellow teeth?

Yellow teeth can be a cause of concern for many individuals, affecting their self-confidence and overall appearance. However, with proper dental care and lifestyle adjustments, it is possible to clean and brighten yellow teeth effectively. In this article, we will explore various methods to combat tooth discoloration, from adopting a thorough oral hygiene routine to using natural remedies and seeking professional treatments. By following these expert tips, you can achieve a radiant smile and maintain optimal oral health.

Adopt a Thorough Oral Hygiene Routine

A consistent oral care routine is the foundation for maintaining clean and healthy teeth. Follow these steps for a thorough oral hygiene routine:

Brushing: Brush your teeth at least twice a day, preferably after meals, using fluoride toothpaste and a soft-bristled toothbrush. Pay attention to each tooth’s surface, including hard-to-reach areas at the back of your mouth.

Flossing: Floss daily to remove food particles and plaque between teeth, where a toothbrush cannot reach effectively.

Tongue Cleaning: Use a tongue scraper or the back of your toothbrush to gently clean your tongue’s surface, as it can harbor bacteria that contribute to tooth discoloration.

Mouthwash: Rinse with an antiseptic mouthwash to help kill bacteria and maintain fresh breath.

Limit Staining Foods and Beverages

Certain foods and beverages can contribute to tooth discoloration. To prevent yellowing of teeth, limit the consumption of:

Coffee and Tea: Dark-colored beverages like coffee and tea contain tannins that can stain tooth enamel over time.

Red Wine: The rich color and acidity of red wine can cause teeth to become stained.

Berries: Blueberries, blackberries, and other dark-colored berries can leave stains on teeth due to their pigments.

If you indulge in these staining foods and drinks, consider using a straw to minimize contact with your teeth. Additionally, rinse your mouth with water or brush your teeth shortly after consumption to reduce potential staining effects.

Quit Tobacco Use

Smoking and chewing tobacco are significant contributors to yellow teeth. The nicotine and tar in tobacco products can cause stubborn stains that are challenging to remove. Quitting tobacco use not only improves tooth color but also enhances overall oral health.

Try Whitening Toothpaste

Whitening toothpaste can be effective in removing surface stains and preventing new ones. Look for toothpaste that contains mild abrasives or polishing agents designed to brighten teeth gradually. However, be cautious with excessive use of abrasive toothpaste, as it may cause enamel erosion and tooth sensitivity over time.

Natural Remedies for Tooth Whitening

Several natural remedies have been suggested to help whiten teeth. While these methods may not be as potent as professional treatments, they can offer mild improvements in tooth color:

Baking Soda: Baking soda is a gentle abrasive that can help remove surface stains. Mix a small amount with water to form a paste and brush your teeth gently. However, avoid excessive use, as it may wear down enamel.

Hydrogen Peroxide: Hydrogen peroxide has mild bleaching properties and can be used as a mouthwash or mixed with baking soda to create a whitening paste. Rinse your mouth thoroughly afterward to avoid ingestion.

Oil Pulling: Oil pulling involves swishing coconut oil or sesame oil in your mouth for about 15-20 minutes to reduce bacteria and plaque. Some people claim it may also help whiten teeth, but more research is needed to confirm its effectiveness.

Professional Teeth Whitening

For more noticeable and long-lasting results, professional teeth whitening treatments are the best option. These treatments are performed by dental professionals and use stronger whitening agents like hydrogen peroxide or carbamide peroxide. Professional teeth whitening methods include:

In-Office Whitening: In-office treatments involve applying a whitening gel to the teeth and activating it with a special light. This procedure provides quick and dramatic results in just one session.

Take-Home Whitening Kits: Dentists may provide custom-fitted whitening trays and professional-grade whitening gel for at-home use. These kits offer flexibility and convenience and can achieve significant improvements in tooth color over several weeks.

Conclusion

Maintaining a bright and confident smile is attainable with proper dental care and lifestyle adjustments. Adopting a thorough oral hygiene routine, limiting staining foods and beverages, and quitting tobacco use are essential steps in preventing tooth discoloration. Whitening toothpaste and natural remedies may offer mild improvements in tooth color, but for noticeable and long-lasting results, professional teeth whitening is recommended. Consult with a dental professional to determine the most suitable whitening method based on your individual needs and the severity of tooth discoloration. By incorporating these expert tips into your daily routine, you can achieve a clean, radiant smile and enjoy the benefits of improved self-esteem and optimal oral health.

[companionwolf]

pride month drabble challenge fill #10

prompts: 25. Questioning/Discovery + 16. Tomorrow + 15. "How do I know you're real?"

fandom: techincally XCOM: Enemy Within but really XCOM 2 (gen verse)

TWs/CWs: implied torture, memory loss, loss of sense of self

The Commander knows there's something up when they meet Central, even here, stifled by professionalism and fear. They know it by their pulse jumping, in their mouth drying, in the weird feeling in their stomach.

At night, they lie in their small room, staring up at the ceiling, and they wonder.

(He feels familiar, somehow.)

On bad days, the Commander wants to hide away and curl into him, bury their face in his neck, but that's not allowed. So they duck into a bathroom instead and try to compose themselves, eyes squeezed shut, imagining they're home.

(They aren't going home.)

The Commander learns about him-- and it's weird how sometimes hunches they had about things, even really specific things, turn out right. Where he went to college, his favorite drink, his actual name.

They wonder about what he might say if they ask for what they want. Do they want that? What does it make them? The Commander isn't sure, but there's time to learn.

Maybe just not here. Not with him, anyway. God, they think, that hurts for some reason. Like a mourning, like grief.

When the base is attacked, fire and sirens and staffers brawling each under inexplicably, the Commander half except to find Central dead, to lose the base entirely. They don't know why.

But the Hologlobe returns to life, and their senior staff are near them, and they've made it through the darkest hour.

They hope so, at least.

That night, like every night now, the Commander lies in bed and stares at the ceiling and wonders. They don't get very far into their reverie, though, because there's a knock at their door. They hesitantly peer out at --

"Uh, hey, Commander," says Central.

They pull him into the room by his arm and then into a hug. He's a little stiff and unsure, but they don't let go.

(In their mind's eye, they see his corpse and their body shakes.)

When they finally let go, step back, Central is flush about the ears. "I wanted to check on you," he manages to say. "After everything today..."

"I'm glad you did," they answer. "C'mon, sit."

He takes a hesitant seat at their desk, they sit on the end of their bed. For a while they just exist in silence, and then the Commander asks, "What will you do, when it's over?"

Central looks thoughtful. "It's hard to imagine that," he says.

It won't happen, says some dark part of them. You're here forever, running in circles.

"Try," the Commander says.

Central closes his eyes. "I'd like to move out into the country," he says. "My folks have a farm; maybe take it over when they're gone..."

He goes on, telling them about growing up there, how it was an escape of sorts from bad parents, the summer nights, and slow living.

They listen intently, imagining. They want to ask if they could come with him. They hold their tongue instead. There will be no after XCOM for them. No need to...

To what? Get his hopes up? Get their hopes up? He probably doesn't even swing their way. They...

As they listen, the Commander realizes they do. They do like him, like that. It doesn't matter because they can't be a thing, but they know now. They guess that's important to be able to know.

(The realization never sticks.)

In the in-between, when there is only pain and pain and pain and pain, but before everything is wiped clean again, the Commander remembers the truth, swears this time they'll hold on to it.

(They say that everytime.)

Slowly, they lose more, but they don't realize it. They can't, not while under, and when out they have no time to.

Their world bleaches white, no past, no self, until eventually there is nothing of who they were left. All of it dripping away through pale shaking fingers

There is only who they are.

And then that is taken too.

All that remains is a title, a purpose, a sense of foreboding, a determination.

(I am the Commander.)

It is near the end. They lie with Central, breathing softly into the pitch dark. They've found a Volunteer. The Gollop Chamber is done tomorrow.

They look at their XO, watch his body rise and fall with each breath and they ask, so quietly, "How do I know you're real?"

There come no answer other than Central mumbling incoherent in his sleep.

The Commander's head aches, the pain increasing as they try to think a little more about their question, try to wonder why they even asked, until--

What were they thinking about? They don't remember.

It's okay.

(It isn't.)

[findyourrp]

❤️ Absolutely! Let's create a concise yet comprehensive role play request based on your specifications. Here's what it might look like:

Title: A Whole New World: Multi-Fandom Role Play Adventure

Introduction: Hello role-players! My name is Bridge, and I'm 21 years old. A quick note before we delve into the details: this role play is for individuals 18 years and older. If you fit this criterion, please continue reading!

Theme: This role play is inspired by the fan fiction "A Whole New World". An OC and diverse characters from various fandoms wake up in a mysterious house with no memory of how they got there. The OC not only recognize these characters, but also have deep affection for them. A granted wish, unbeknownst to them, leads to this complicated yet intriguing situation. However, handling some of these characters proves a challenge, requiring the OC to convince them to accept this newfound affection.

Fandoms Involved: Characters could be from any of the following fandoms: Pokemon, Magi, Dragon Age, Seven Deadly Sins (first season), My Hero Academia, Vampire Knight, Attack on Titan, Bleach, Avatar (James Cameron), Winx Club, Final Fantasy 15, Elder Scrolls, Fairy Tail, Jojo, Stardew Valley, Black Butler, Ouran High School Host Club, Naruto, Danganronpa.

Role Play Style & Pace: This is a 3rd person, fast-paced role play. I expect daily responses, even multiple times a day. Please only engage if you can commit to this frequency. A lack of timely responses may lead to the discontinuation of the role play.

Writing Expectations: This is a literate to advanced literate role play. I take pleasure in elaborate writing and look forward to partners who share this enthusiasm. Excellent grammar and spelling are essential. Inadequacies in these areas are not acceptable.

Other Requirements: Please ensure you are comfortable with the multi-fandom concept and are familiar with at least a majority of the listed fandoms. It's also crucial to be comfortable with the theme of unexpected affection towards characters, as it's the driving force of this role play.

If you've read this far and are interested, please respond to this post or send me a private message. Let's create an engaging, diverse role play experience together!

Note: Mutual respect and a genuine commitment to the role play are expected. Please only engage if you fully agree with the above conditions. Thank you for reading!

contact asker !

[xxmoonxsisterxx]

Day 15 Bleach (anime) Challenge: Favorite Zanpakutō Spirit

I have a top 3 with this one. First is Hyorinmaru, second is Kazeshini and third is Zabimaru. They are just the coolest looking ones in my opinion. Honorable mention would be Zangetsu.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

SO I'm looking at prompt #15 for your SamBucky drabble thing you got going on. Cause one, it's funny, and two I'm picturing my fav character in heels. 😏

RUUUUUU! ✨ Very, very good choice! 💕 I hope you enjoy the drabble, @runzu! 🥰

Prompt 11: “I need to get better at running in heels.”

| 10 | Prompts | 12 |

They were gorgeous.

Decorative stilettos where the heel was a pointed tower of falcons flying towards the heavens. The rest of the shoe was made to look like waves; waves crashing on the shore of Sam's feet. The shoes were a tower of falcons fleeing a tidal wave.

And Sam loved them.

Sam glanced up at Bucky who... looked entranced by the shoes on Sam's feet. Sam snapped his fingers in front of Bucky a few times before the man remembered where he was.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow at Sam before Sam could comment about Bucky's computer brain crashing yet again. Bucky's mind seemed to wander at least once a day now whenever he saw Sam.

Which was cute.

But Sam wasn't going to tell Bucky that.

Sam grimaced at Bucky's quirked eyebrow.

"What?" asked Sam.

"Those are the ones you want to use for the fun run?" asked Bucky, his eyebrow still obnoxiously quirked.

"I like these," said Sam as he stood up and instantly felt the pain of an uncomfortable pair of heels.

Why did he like these shoes again?

That didn't matter. What mattered more now was stopping that knowing smirk on Bucky's annoyingly adorable face.

"You could barely run in kitten heels," said Bucky as he told Sam truths Sam didn't ask to be reminded of, "Do you really think you can run in four-inch heels?"

So, there was a fun run happening. There was always a fun run that happened every year in Delacroix. It was for the local food bank and usually, there was some fun twist.

Last year, the twist had been a three-legged race where Bucky had simply picked AJ up, had AJ hold on tight, and sprinted to the end as AJ laughed in glee. This year, it was heels. And Sam was going to win no matter what.

Sam pointed accusatorily at the heels Bucky had put on himself.

They were ridiculous. Completely over-the-top heels. The kind of heels that deserved to be worn by some furry-themed metal band's lead singer. They were in the shape of wolf heads. It was as if Moro from Princess Mononoke had cloned her head and both heads were eating Bucky's feet. Or if Balto was bleached, twinified, decapitated, and nibbling on Bucky up to his ankles.

They were wild. And out there. And fun.

Damn it, Sam kind of loved them.

But they were also just as tall as Sam's heels.

"Do you think you can really run in those?" asked Sam, because fuck it, he didn't actually know if Bucky could run in heels.

Sam couldn't help but let a smile escape. Bucky grinned, a glint of challenge in his eyes.

"Oh, so you want to test these out before the fun run?" said Bucky as he stood up, unfairly still an inch taller (maybe Sam should have found five-inch heels), "Okay. You're on."

The two of them wobbled toward the back door, hobbling down the porch stairs carefully into the thankfully soft ground below in the backyard. Sam pointed to the closest tree, one that had padding and a target on it for Sam's shield practice.

"To that tree?" Sam asked the man he knew could run as fast as a car.

"On three?" asked Bucky.

Sam nodded as they got into position.

"One... two... three!"

Everything went wrong almost immediately.

Sam thought, at first, he might do well. He was starting to sort of run. Bucky had the misfortune of one of his heels somehow getting stuck in the ground, though, and he toppled over diagonally in Sam's direction.

Sam tried to pivot. If he was in his jogging shoes, he could have.

Sam didn't have the right traction, though, and the way his foot hit the ground was at a slightly off angle. He felt pain in his ankle as his stiletto angled sideways, the surprise of it making Sam fall over right onto Bucky.

The two groaned on the ground, a pile of pain and regrets.

"I need to get better at running in heels," mumbled Sam into Bucky's shoulder as Bucky snorted.

"I think I need to too," said Bucky into the ground.

They both giggled at the situation. Laughed at the unnecessary injury they both caused themselves.

And as Bucky rolled over and moved Sam atop him, Sam wondered what they were doing here. How it was so comfortable to lay atop Bucky. How it was nice to feel Bucky's chest move as he breathed, hear Bucky's heartbeat.

"Is your ankle okay?" whispered Bucky softly.

Sam... did a few little tests without getting off of Bucky.

"I think I'll survive. Maybe I'll need some ice. You?" asked Sam.

"The only thing wounded is my pride," bemoaned Bucky as he gently moved Sam onto the ground and got up, barefoot.

When had Bucky kicked off his heels?

Sam had started to get up too, but Bucky panicked, dropping to his knees. He got Sam to lay down again. Sam huffed, a little amused.

"Seriously, I'm fine to walk," grumbled Sam, not used to someone outside of his family worrying about him like this.

"No, no. You stay. I'll go get you that ice," said Bucky before he...

Did...

Did Bucky just kiss Sam's forehead?

Bucky's face turned bright red. Sam felt his own face heat up.

"Bucky - " Sam started but Bucky sprang up from his kneeling position, fleeing into the house as he yelled, "Ice!" as if he'd never spoken the word before.

Sam giggled at the scene, somehow relaxing on the ground.

Sam was reluctantly... okay with Bucky nursing him a bit. Who knows? Maybe Sam would get a chance to steal a kiss from the guy once he got back. That... that could be nice. More than nice, really. It could be wonderful.

Sam watched Bucky scrambling for ice. Heard Sarah, AJ, and Cass making fun of him as Bucky fumbled some frozen peas.

Yeah.

Sam would love to kiss that dork. Preferable as soon as made his way back to Sam. Sam Wilson was definitely kissing Bucky Barnes when Bucky came back over to play nurse with Sam.

*****

This is for my 300 Followers Event! If you want to submit a prompt, check out the list and send in an ask!