#if I can’t find any water I’ll dig my own well

[skyward-floored]

#might do seven actually but I haven’t decided yet #sksw zelink #zelink #rambles from the floor #I’m having fun okay #plus #everybody gives their ships like one kid maybe two (if any) and it’s so boringggggg #like yeah some people aren’t going to have kids or aren’t going to have very many and that’s ok #but I NEVER see stuff where characters have more then four #like ever #I fight this by giving my characters as many kids as I can (when it makes sense) #also I’m parched for large family representation that isn’t stupid #if I can’t find any water I’ll dig my own well

[j0hnj4ej3n]

nct dream taking care of you when you're sick

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: mentions of food, not eating well, vomiting, fainting, covid and a pregnancy scare, let me know if i missed out anything  

Notes: hello everyone! i’m back from my family holiday and will be posting more now~ here’s a little something for you all hehe <3 hope you all enjoy reading it!! if any of you have any requests, do feel free to send them in, till next time, have a wonderful week ahead everyone <3

𔘓Mark:

When Mark finds you curled up under your blanket on the couch when he gets home, he’s already worried. Because one, you’re usually excited to engulf him in a hug and two, it’s summer and he’s sweating from the short walk back from the bus stop but you’re wrapped up like a burrito, unmoving and pale. “Babe? You okay?” Mark comes to sit by you, instinctively pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Dude, you’re burning…” “I’m fine Mark, just need to rest,” you mumble out. You’re sleepy and cold and finally comfortable on the couch after feeling unwell all afternoon. You’ve been really busy recently, with classes and your part-time job and it seems your body is finally breaking from your packed schedules and lack of sleep. “You’re running a fever babe, come on,” Mark says as he lifts you up bridal style, together with your blanket still wrapped around you into your shared bedroom. He tucks you in properly, making sure the room isn’t too cold for you and even filled a jug of water and placed it beside you on the nightstand along with your cup. Mark digs through the box of medicine you two have in the kitchen cabinet and rushes to offer you ibuprofen for your fever. “I’ll go shower, be right back okay?” Mark tells you as he leans in to give you a kiss, but you’re quick to put your hand over his mouth, gently pushing his face away from yours. “Don’t, I’m sick. You can’t afford to be sick,” you say as Mark pulls your hand away from his face, holding it in his instead. “Don’t care,” he mutters out before swiftly stealing a peck, earning a frown from you. He only chuckles as he pulls the blanket up to make sure you’re properly tucked in. “Don’t worry about me babe, I’m a lot stronger than you think,” Mark tells you almost smugly, hitting his chest twice before flexing an arm to prove his point. “Shut up smelly, go shower already…” you jokingly nagged as you laughed weakly. And even though Mark was really busy himself, he stayed by your side as much as he could. Studying beside you while you rested, running out to get takeout for the both of you. He makes sure you’re drinking enough water and taking your medicine regularly. At night, Mark doesn’t let himself sleep before you do until your fever is finally gone and you’re almost recovered. And he was right, despite sticking right by you while you were sick, juggling his part-time internship and classes, Mark was still holding up well. In this time, you couldn’t help but be grateful for your lovely boyfriend who took care of you dutifully despite his own busy schedules and you wondered if you could love anyone more than you love Mark Lee.

𔘓Renjun:

You stir awake as you feel someone slightly shaking you. You slowly open your eyes to meet your boyfriend’s kind ones, they’re laced with both worry and adoration. “I made you some tea, it’s supposed to be good for your throat. Drink it while it’s hot.” Renjun tells you as he helps you sit up, holding the cup against your lips as you take small sips of the warm tea. “Thanks love,” you whisper out as much as you can since your voice is still strained, your sore throat preventing you from speaking at your normal volume. Renjun offers you a small smile, brushing your hair out of your face, “Did you sleep well my love? Feeling better?” “Mm, just a little better.” Renjun frowns slightly at that, he puts the tea on the bedside table and pulls you up slowly so you could go wash up for breakfast. While you’re beginning to brush your teeth, Renjun stands behind you, gathering your hair together before tying it up into a ponytail so you can clean up without your hair getting in the way. He places a soft kiss on your shoulder before leaving to heat up your breakfast. He doesn’t close the toilet door on the way out, afraid you’ll have another fainting spell since you are still recovering. You think your immune system hates you because once you’re even just a little unwell, you would get fainting spells but Renjun has gotten used to it and is always so alert. It makes you feel bad because he’d get so worried but you also feel so safe and thankful because you know Renjun would be there to catch you if you fall, quite literally. “Here, I made some soup, it should be easier for you to swallow,” Renjun tells you once you come out from the toilet. You haven’t been eating well since your throat hurts so much so Renjun has been sweet enough to cook or buy soft foods to make sure you still get enough nutrients. He joins you at the dining table, though he’s just eating bread with jam. Renjun looks at you as you take your first sip, chewing his bread while looking at you with expectant eyes. You sigh as flavours explode in your mouth, warmth spreads down to your chest as you swallow. “It’s so good,” you tell him and a proud, tight-lipped smile appears on Renjun’s pretty face, “Thank god, eat up then.”

𔘓Jeno:

You were never someone who had a big appetite, so when you fall sick you practically have no desire to eat anything. It’s really bad, you know but you can’t stomach too much food in fear that you might throw up. All you want to do when you’re sick is sleep all day. But Jeno can’t bear seeing you being sick and not eating or drinking enough, so he takes it upon himself to try and get you to eat even just a little. So now the two of you are on the couch, you’re wearing a hoodie (jeno’s hoodie) and pouting while curled up beside him, hugging your knees to your chest. Jeno’s holding a bowl of porridge in his hand and a spoon in the other, gently blowing the porridge that’s on it. “Aaa,” Jeno says as he moves the spoon to your lips. You look at him, eyes round and almost glistening with tears, “Jeno… I can’t, not hungry.” Jeno sighs, looking at the bowl and then back at you before he says, “You didn’t even eat much baby, you need to eat…” You feel miserable, your head is pounding and even with the hoodie on, you’re still cold. Everything is tasteless and you really don’t feel like eating. But you also know that Jeno’s right and you just feel bad because he’s trying to take such good care of you. “Just two more mouths? Just two and we’re done,” Jeno says as he smiles at you, wiggling the spoon in front of you. Okay, you thought to yourself, you could do two more. Jeno just wants you to be well, he knows it’s not like you asked to be sick so he’s willing to do whatever to get you well again. Whatever you need, he’s ready to do it just for you if it means you’ll feel better physically and emotionally. You slowly open your mouth and Jeno pushes the spoon gently into your mouth. He scoops up some more porridge, remembering to make sure there’s some minced meat on the spoon too before he blows on it. And after you finish the last bite, Jeno gets up to do the dishes, not before he pats your head, cooing out a “Good job~” at you for the last two bites you managed to eat. Jeno returns after doing the dishes to see you nodding off on the couch. So he joins you, pulling you to lie on top of him as he runs his fingers through your hair, soothing you into a deep sleep.

𔘓Haechan:

“Oh shit!” was the only thing Haechan managed to say when he saw the way you were hunched over the toilet bowl, throwing up. He rushed to hold your hair back, firmly rubbing your back as you were calming down after throwing up your lunch. You’ve been nauseous all morning and after eating lunch, your stomach started churning. You wondered if it was the sashimi you had last night that was making you feel funny. Haechan passes you some tissue to wipe your mouth with after you rinsed it, bending down to look at you, gently brushing your hair out of your face. “Are you okay? Still feeling nauseous?” he asked timidly and you nod. You wanted to ask him if he was feeling fine since you both had the sashimi together, or maybe you just had a weaker stomach. But before you open your mouth to ask, Haechan blurts out, “You’re not pregnant, are you?” The two of you look each other dead in the eye for two seconds before you burst out laughing. “W-what? Baby, I’m serious,” Haechan says as he tugs your arm to get you to stop laughing, “My period just ended like two days ago, so we haven’t done anything recently. Plus, we always use protection anyway.” “It’s not 100% though…” “Don’t worry babe, you’re not going to be a dad that soon.” Haechan scoffs at that but you can tell he’s not convinced. “I’ll take a test to be sure if you want,” you suggested but Haechan shakes his head. “It’s fine, but if you puke again I’m taking you to the doctor,” he tells you as he holds your face, looking at you worriedly. You were fine for a while but you do puke again, your throat burns and your stomach hurts. So Haechan rushes to take you to the nearest clinic. You were right about the sashimi, it was food poisoning but Haechan was fine so you guess your digestive system doesn’t really accept raw food too well. “I told you I wasn’t pregnant babe”, “Damn, why am I kind of disappointed though?” “Shut up, you wouldn’t know what to do if I was”, “Of course I would, we’d get married and have a family together. I mean, sure, it’s a little early but I’d be so ready babe.” All week, Haechan made sure you remember to stay hydrated since you did continue to throw up a few more times. He would cook food that was more kind to your stomach and set alarms so you two would remember it’s time to eat your medicine. Thanks to Haechan, you were still able to laugh even in your miserable state and got well really quickly. And you wouldn’t tell him, but you think you fell more in love with him knowing that he had already thought of a future that had you in it.

𔘓Jaemin:

You’re finally done with your shift at the cafe and you’re ready to close up for the day. You’re tired and you’ve been having the worst headache since your classes ended. You soldiered through your evening shift despite that but now you’re feeling even worse. You’ve been pushing yourself to work almost every day after classes for some income, so you can pay rent on time without depending on your parents. But as finals draw near, your stress is through the roof. You haven’t been eating or sleeping well and you think it’s finally taking a toll on your body. You’re taking your apron off when you hear the bell from the cafe door ring, “So sorry, we’re close-” “I know, I’m here to pick my lovely girlfriend up from work~” Jaemin stands in front of you, adorning the prettiest smile on his face. And you instantly relax, smiling back at him. “Hi honey, ready to go?” “Yeah, just give me a minute”. You tell him as you rush to the back to get your bag and turn off most of the lights. You rush back out to meet Jaemin when your vision starts to blur, you stop in your tracks as your hand reaches out to hold anything to keep you steady. You try to stay standing as your surroundings start to swirl, your vision blurry and dark. Jaemin is quick to react, rushing to you. “Baby? Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jaemin calls out, he holds you by your waist with one arm as the other comes up to hold your face. He looks into your eyes, his own laced with concern and he can tell you’re kind of blacking out. You blink hard a few times, holding onto his arm as your vision slowly clears. “Are you okay? Have you eaten anything?” Jaemin asks worriedly. You shake your head slightly, trying not to trigger another near fainting spell. “Been having the worst headache and I haven’t had the time to eat after class today…” “Y/N, how many times have I told you? You have to eat no matter what.” You can’t even look at Jaemin because you feel bad that he has to nag at you constantly for something as simple as having your meals on time. Jaemin sighs and brings his hand up to hold your face, tilting your head upwards so you’re looking at him. “You had a long day, let’s go home hm? I’ll cook you something yummy,” Jaemin says in a whisper just loud enough for you to hear. And you nod, closing your eyes as you lean into his touch. He lets go of your face and engulfs you in a hug, you let yourself melt against him. When you’re with Jaemin like this, for these few seconds every one of your burdens fade into nothing and even your head stops throbbing for a while. When you pull away Jaemin is smiling down at you like you’re the single, most precious person in this world. He carries your bag and slides his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers together. You get home and Jaemin feeds you a bowl of delicious beef noodles, nagging once again about how you need to stop skipping your meals. And he goes on, endearingly. “You have to sleep earlier too, go to bed when I do for a week straight. That should fix your sleep… AND if you have a busy school day, don’t put your availability down for work. Just rest at home for a bit this week. You’re always making me worried about you baby, what do I do with you?” “Alright alright, I got it…” “I love you y/n, I just want you to be well and healthy and happy. We have to grow old together, you know?” Jaemin says as he looks at you, eyes sparkly with a slight pout on his face. You pinch his cheek, “I got it babe, I love you too”.

𔘓Chenle:

You’ve been lying in bed all afternoon, you feel cold and you’ve been sneezing and coughing non-stop. You were afraid that you caught covid again but your self-testing kit says otherwise. You put on some soothing music and tried to take another nap. That’s when you hear your front door open, Chenle is back from his basketball class. “Hey babe,” he greets when he enters your shared room but when he sees you all curled up on the bed, he does a double take. “Hi Chenle,” “What’s up with you? You feeling okay?” “No… I feel like shit.” Chenle chuckles at that as he walks up to you, ruffling your hair. “Do you want to go to the doctor? I’ll take you.” You shake your head as you look up at him, “Can you go wash up, then come cuddle with me?” Chenle frowns and says without hesitation, “But you’re sick, what if I catch what you have?” With that, you frown too. “You’re the worst…” Chenle laughs at your expression, “I’m just kidding.” Even at a time like this, there is no escape from your boyfriend’s teasing. He goes to shower and comes back out within 10 minutes, adorning another basketball jersey with his towel around his shoulders. “Have you eaten anything all day?” “No, I’ve just been laying here.” “You’re not hungry?” “I am…” “Why didn’t you text me to get something back?” “I was resting!” You raise your voice a little which causes you to cough. “Okay, chill. I’ll go make you something, after you eat then we can cuddle.” You look at him with your puppy eyes, purposefully exaggerating, “You’re the best~” “Shut up, don’t look at me like that! That was not what you said just now anyway.” And even though Chenle just made you some porridge and bok choy, you were really grateful. It was simple, homey food but you love whatever Chenle cooks so even though you’re still feeling under the weather and it’s a little hard to eat, you finish all your porridge. After Chenle does the dishes, he joins you back in bed and cuddles you as promised. You still feel sick but for some reason, with Chenle around you feel a little better. In the few days that you took to recover, Chenle calls his mum to ask for a herbal soup recipe and makes it for you until you feel better again. On the fourth day, you’re fully recovered but when you woke up, Chenle was shivering beside you even though he had practically snatched the whole blanket and wrapped it around himself. “You okay babe?” “Feel funny, it’s so cold.” Chenle got sick, turns out he did catch the flu from you. You feel so bad, “I’m so sorry… you actually got sick taking care of me…” “Don’t be silly babe, I'll be fine.” So you do your best to take care of him too and nurse him back to health like he did for you.

𔘓Jisung:

“Are you feeling better baby?” Jisung asks you when you wake up from your nap and you shake your head. He sighs and pats your head. After you texted him saying you’re having a fever last night, he came over early this morning to come take care of you. Jisung even got you breakfast, but you didn’t eat much, which Jisung understands. You went back to sleep shortly after and Jisung went out to the pharmacy to get you some ibuprofen and vitamin C drinks for your immune system. Jisung doesn’t let you move an inch until you feel better even though you are fully capable of doing minor tasks yourself. He’s always going, “No, don’t worry about that. I’ll do it.” “Just stay in bed baby, I’ll help you.” And he’s making sure you eat well and drink enough water. He stays by your side all day and night, keeping you company and making sure you have everything you need. Even after you finally get up to shower, Jisung blows your hair for you. “Tell me if it’s too hot,” Jisung says before he blows dry your hair. After that, he combs your hair for you and it makes you feel so sleepy. “Tired?” “Yes… I’m sorry Ji, I’ve just been sleeping all day…” You apologise, feeling bad that he’s over at your place and you can’t spend any proper quality time with him since you’re feeling unwell. And that he’s been running around doing everything for you. Jisung shakes his head, frowning just a little. “Why are you sorry? You’re not feeling well, it’s not your fault. You need rest so you can recover quickly,” Jisung tells you as he smooths your hair down, patting the top of your head before he begins to tuck you into bed. “Will you stay the night?” You ask him timidly, he hums in reply. “I’ll stay with you until you feel better, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up tomorrow, don’t worry.”

#nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream reactions #nct dream fluff #j0hnj4ej3n

[sevenpoyo]

this got deleted like 5 times this version is nothing like the original and i don’t know how tumblr works

By time you meet denji, he know you you work at the noodle shop or bakery and feed him and pochita. Or maybe he’s seen you with the yakuza guys he owns more money than he’s ever seen to, or maybe some t.v show or porno he watched second hand. Either way he knows you, but when you’re introduce yourself, saying the name that is distantly familiar to him, and looking at him with the most captivating eyes he’s ever seen. When you’re giving him a look so warm and all encompassing that makes him feel full like a hot meal from the old guy who thinks that denji is his grandson.

Your smile spells out warm fresh bread and sweet fruit jam as you ask his name once, twice, three times and the concern that overtakes your features at the fourth time you ask him, makes that full feeling turn into nausea. Like finding a bee hive and gourging himself on too sweet honey. He nearly collapses when your voice actually reaches his ears and he hears you talking to him, the gentle melody of “are you alright? are you feeling well? what the hell!? can you even here me?!?” You step closer looking for any indication of injury besides his despondency, and he’s knocked back into reality.

He has to say something back! You’ll probably get sick of standing here with him if he doesn’t! You’ll leave! every alarm in his brains is screaming it over and over and over! You’ll leave. You’ll leave! You’ll leave! You’ll leave! You’ll leave! You’ll leave. Look at you! Of course you weren’t sticking around!

You’re leaving! He feels that warm kind look leave him and he feels exactly what he is again, he’s a poor starving street rat who’s missed his chance of someone like you looking at him with soft, warm, nice feelings that he’s never felt and will likely never feel again. His one shot at being something to someone. lost. wasted. you’re turning around to leave the skinny mess of a teenage boy in front that couldn’t even respond when you asked him the most simple questions. Using all the strength in his body he sputters, forcing out breath that reeks of hunger into your face and finally coughs up his name.

“i’m uh- my names Denji. i’m fine! i can hear! i’m Denji and- this is pochita!” please look at him again. denji leans closer to see over your shoulder, please look at him. then you dig up a water bottle, and a granola bar and he’s in love. you’re staying, your gonna feed him, and he feels closer to heaven then he’s ever been. Maybe he’s dead, and you’re an angel. Denji didn’t much believe that he deserved to go to heaven- or that pochita would still be with him. but he thought all devils were inhuman looking, and you just looked lovely to him.

“ok then Denji, i’m gonna need your full name. i’m worried that you may be concussed. do you know what year it is? do you feel nauseous?” now he thinks it make sense if you were and angel angel’s use big words.

“huh? what’s concussed mean? and nas- noushis?” his mouth was watering as he fumbled to unwrap the granola bar.

“oh god! denji can you tell me where you live? are you parents home?” shit! he can’t take you back to his shack! you’ll leave for sure if he takes you to that shithole!

“i lost my house keys! that’s why i’m outside! and my head is fine! i’m just really hungry!”

“ok, i’ll just stay to make sure. do you want to go somewhere to eat or something? this place gives me bad vibes.” Wow, this has to be heaven. there’s not other way that this could happen to denji.

“sure! but uh.. i don’t have any money on me. ” he didn’t have any money at all, but why get stuck up on details?

“that’s fine! i’ll pay since we’re friends now, and we could put your little friend in my book bag!” you said referencing pochita. who is now running laps around the two of you,

that makes denji take back what he said earlier. this wasn’t heaven, you were.

#denji csm #csm x reader #denji x reader #denji hayakawa #denji my beloved #yandere csm #yandere denji

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles Update - 09/June/2023

Busy week this week…and even extra time on it at night, lol! :D

I’ve been going to bed, thinking of the planning I’ve done that day and what I’ll be working on the next then BAM! Fully fledged scenes will just come to me at around midnight!

And I can’t type them out fast enough on my phone, that I’ve been dictating them out instead, lol! :D

One of the scenes I came up with was actually supposed to be in just one of the branches, but I love it WAY too much so now it’s going into the main story. And it fits in perfectly!

This book has seriously got a life of its own!

I also managed to write out the character sheet for the antagonist this week. That was super exciting! They were already so solid in my mind before that but writing out answers to the template have helped me dig even deeper into them, as well as their real motivations and fears.

Although most all of the antagonists, except maybe Falk, have been focused on the MC and their blood, this antagonist feels much more…driven and intense for the MC. The others have been big baddies to defeat but this one comes with complications… I’m looking forward to writing the interactions between them already!!

Also added some extra lore to the type of supernatural they are!

And then it was social media days too! I finally got to write the Mason/Morgan and Alima interaction scene at the auction ready for the Unseen Scene on Patreon later this month!  And the poll went up for next month’s summer scenarios…looks like it’s gonna be very water-themed time ahead for the LI’s in those, lol!

Wanted to make sure and get all of the Patreon content done as well as Tumblr asks scheduled as we’ll be on break next week. I’ll likely still be working on Book Four plans as it comes to me ‘cause although I know I need time to rest and reset my brain, I honestly find it impossible to turn off thinking about my projects once I’ve made a start on them :D

There won’t be any asks, etc until we’re back on the 19th June, but until then we hope you have the most amazing week ahead! <3

#the wayhaven chronicles #personal #interactive fiction #update

[anipgarden]

Cheaply Starting Seeds

This is my fourth post in a series I’ll be making on how to increase biodiversity on a budget! I’m not an expert--just an enthusiast--but I hope something you find here helps! 

Having a high-quality seed-starting setup can feel like an ultimate but distant dream. An entire shelf--an entire room, even, filled with grow lights and plant trays in the optimal setup to make tons of plants? Tons of garden tools, each with a diverse and dedicated purpose? That’s just not an option for some of us. But that doesn’t mean we can’t get started at a low cost!

Seed Starting Set-Ups

Speaking from a somewhat biased Floridian perspective, I’ve had great success starting seeds outside! My usual set-up is on a rarely-used outdoor patio table that’s moved to a sunny spot in the yard, but I’ve even grown seeds in solo cups on sidewalks, or directly in the ground, with great results! 

Some seeds grow best when they go through a cold period before germinating, while other seeds aren’t affected much by it and just wait for warm weather. As such, a viable option is to sow your seeds in late fall, let winter roll by, and wait until the seeds sprout on their own come spring! I would try and mark off where you planted said seeds, so you don’t lose track of them and accidentally dig them up.

Alternatively, if you want to get started while it's cold outside, a popular option I've seen is to grow in milk jugs! There's a lot of different ways to do it--everyone has their preference--but if you're already drinking things like milk or juice or sweet tea, and you're going to get jugs at some point in time--why not use them for gardening?

An easy way to clear up a section of lawn to create open gardening space is by using a sheet mulching or lasagna gardening method (though I like to call it the Cardboard Snuff-Out). Place cardboard or newspaper down in fall/winter to mark out where you want to garden. Layer compostable materials like grass clippings and wood chips on top of it, or potting soil/bagged compost. It’ll decompose over Winter into an organically rich bed that’ll have killed the grass and weeds underneath it. You don’t have to break out any tools and sweat over it come spring, and the cardboard itself will slowly decompose as well!

Though it's often recommended to plant things directly into the ground to decrease watering needs and increase nutritional independence, there’s plenty of reasons you may not be able to. Whether you’re renting, living in a place without a yard, or even just can’t or don’t want to break ground in a yard, you can still help biodiversity by growing in pots. Some plants have rather extensive root systems and aren’t well suited for pots, but there are still plenty of options available for plants that’ll boost biodiversity, be beautiful to look at, and grow just fine in pots! A recommendation is to get a larger pot, if you’re able, as it’ll hold onto more water and need watering less often. Not only are potted plants great for providing food for insects, but they can be shelter for other creatures too--there’s been a good few times I’ve moved a pot and found a frog or toad living underneath it.

If you don’t have room for pots on the ground, you could consider using hanging pots or window boxes! These can be great and easily-maintained options to provide food and habitat for insects and birds in an urban living situation like apartments or townhouses, but they can also be a fun way to add even more habitat to an already-robust home garden. You can even make an entire mini habitat in a window box or pot! I can personally say I’ve seen tons of pollinators visit my yearly hanging basket garden that consists of about five to seven plants, and I’ve always loved the idea of having a window box for blooms right out my window. Just make sure that it’s safe--make sure they’re securely fixed, and that whatever they’re hanging from can handle their weight when they’re freshly watered and loaded with plants. 

If you want to start indoors, you don’t necessarily need grow lights or heat mats (though it will make things a bit easier.) I’ve successfully grown milkweed, peppers, tomatoes, zucchinis, and even sprouted lemon seeds in college dorm rooms, and kept tomato and pepper plants in a dorm room on a sunny windowsill. For the most part, you need a nice and sunny window, some kind of container, and a source of heat (in my case, I used anything from a space heater to the warmth of my laptop running nearby. If you don’t have any sunny windows, or enough windowsill space to start plants on, its possible to obtain cheaper grow lights. One year, my mom bought me some gooseneck grow lights that could clip onto things for cheap off of Amazon. (Fair warning, though, they did light up my entire room in purple. I lived alone that year (covid year, my roomies bailed), so it was fine, but it was kind of trippy,)

Another year, when I was in an apartment on my own, I bought a grow light modeled like a normal light bulb from the lightbulb aisle in Lowe’s and put it in my desk lamp. Growing seeds indoors can make them grow fast and leggy, so it’ll help if you can keep a desk fan on them so they focus on growing strong instead of tall and fast.

If you’re fortunate enough to have a friend with a nice set up, you could see if they’re willing to let you borrow some of their space to start your own plants as well! My set-up in college was by no means High Class, but I was still more than willing to start seeds for my friends who asked!

Containers for Seed Starting

So now that we’ve talked starting seeds indoors and out, we need to address what to start them in. It’s important that whatever you’re using has drainage holes, and be large enough to support your plant (starting something like milkweed or a squash in a tiny little pot won’t yield great results). Fortunately, there are options here!

If you’re looking to buy pots, Dollar Tree will sell some small plastic pots for cheap in the spring! They’re kind of thin, and won’t last forever, but they’re great for a few uses and don’t cost a lot of money. Something that’s a bit more pricey but are longer-lasting, in my experience, are the Burpee SuperSeed trays. They come in different sizes, but I’m fond of the 16-cell trays--they have silicone bottoms and are made of a nice solid plastic with a tray to hold water, so they hold up for a long time and are easy to clean and reuse!

Burpee seed tray, my beloved.

What’s better than a cheap pot? Free ones, and there’s plenty of options there! I’ve seen people use toilet paper or paper towel rolls as pots by folding the bottoms in and have it work well for them! I think this method would work best if you had some kind of tray to keep them moist, because mine dried out fast last time I tried this method. I’ve also seen people make pots out of newspaper with a few different methods, and the people who use this method love it--apparently, the roots pass through the paper easier and it decomposes faster when buried, so you can just transplant the whole pot and avoid any kind of transplanting shock. If you don’t have any newspaper on hand, you can likely ask your friends or neighbors! 

I’ve gotten lots of mileage from reusing old containers by poking a few holes in the bottom with knives or scissors--just be careful while you’re doing it! I, personally, am more likely to use an already-used solo cup for it--they’re a nice size, so they hold a good amount of soil and moisture and give the seedling a good amount of root space. I tend to write the plant information on the side of the cup in sharpie marker, or on an index card in pen. I’ve also heard of people making use of egg cartons, fruit containers, yogurt cups, milk cartons, soda bottles--the more you start thinking about what you could easily poke a hole in, the more options start coming around!

This photo may be from 2018, but I'll still regularly reuse cups like this! They're also great for cuttings!

As you start planning to move your seedlings into the ground and preparing planting sites, you’ll likely need a few tools to do it! How do you get these? You may be able to borrow some tools from a neighbor! As long as you make sure to return them in good condition, depending on how friendly your neighbors are, they might be totally fine with you borrowing their tools for awhile. If you don’t want to take that route, there may be a tool library you can borrow from, or a mutual aid group that can loan you tools for awhile. Either way, borrowing tools is cheaper than buying them--though, if you do have to buy tools, cheap hand-tools from Walmart or the dollar store work just fine. They’ll even last a good while if they’re taken care of when not in use! I've even seen places like Ross sell some tools and pots in spring!

Spotted in a Walmart gardening section by the registers, 2023.

Of course, your mileage may vary with these. I genuinely cannot think of the last time my house got a newspaper, and as I've mentioned I don't have to worry about snow. Similarly, maybe you don't use plastic cups when you can help it, or don't have a particular affinity for eggs and yogurt. Maybe there isn't a tool library in your area--I sure don't know if there is in mine--but it could still be worth poking around and asking a neighbor!

That's the end of this post! My next post is gonna be about ways to support your plants for cheap--we're gonna be talking compost, mulch, and trellises. Until then, I hope this advice was helpful! Feel free to reply with any questions, your success stories, or anything you think I may have forgotten to add in!

#biodiversity #solarpunk #gardening #outdoor gardening #growing from seed #budget gardening #cheap gardening #indoor gardening #ani rambles #out of queue #the biodiversity saga #I can make a post later about how I prepare solo cups for being used as pots if yall want #I've found its safest to just use a nice pair of scissors and keep the cup upside-down on the table while I cut into the bottom #and when i say 'take care of the tools when not in use' i mean 'dont be me and leave a cheap shovel from dollar tree out in the rain' #it had a wooden handle and it basically just like. rotted. fell apart in my hand when I picked it up #generally keeping tools in the garage will also help them not rust as fast too #but if you're gonna leave them outside at least put them in shade #the number of times i have lost feeling in my hands because i picked up a hoe that was laying in the sun and fuckin SCALED my palms #its not fun. dont do it. maybe its a Floridian problem but still #if you read all these tags. uh. shovel emoji. idk. sorry dude.

[anystalker707]

top surgery <3

Pairings: Frank Iero x [transmasc] Reader Word count: ~ 500 Genre: Drabble / Comfort / Fluff Summary: Sweet interactions between Frank and his boyfriend after the top surgery

requested by @sw33tsuccubus ["froggie you should totally write frank x transmasc reader who just got top surgery 😚 clingy frank whining about(...)"]

MASTERLIST

          Despite the way your mind was hazy and cloudy because of the meds that had been injected into your bloodstream ever since you got out of the surgery, you still felt that sick sensation in the bottom of your stomach. Not to mention that the bed wasn’t as comfy as your own, and the restraints on your chest kept digging into the skin the wrong way.

“Baby,” Frank whispered, making your eyes avert to him—the room spun under your gaze until you focused on Frank. “Do you want water? Something to eat?” He asked softly as he reached out, his hand stroking your cheek.

At first, only a soft groan escaped your lips. It took a while to process what he said.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

Frank nodded faintly, observing you for a while until he started pouting. “Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m so happy for you, but I really want to cuddle you.” He grabbed your hand that didn’t have any IV lines attached to it and kissed your knuckles.

A chuckle escaped your lips—it was weak. “You’ll be able to do it soon,” you said, squeezing his hand. “Once I recover, you’ll be able to lay your head on my chest while I’m shirtless, and I’ll also be able to swim shirtless, or even just walk shirtless around the house, and wear all those shirts I want to…” You trailed off, grinning as you started thinking about all of it. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. A sensation of freedom and comfort.

Frank gasped. “That’s true! Can’t wait for that to happen!” His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he thought, not knowing what to say as he imagined everything that you talked about. “I’ll be there with you during all of those. I’m so excited for that, baby, wow…” He seemed cute with that dreamy air on his face, smiling and looking at you with such lovesick eyes.

You smiled, not finding the strength to even chuckle this time. “Yeah,” you whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. “Also, this makes me very excited for bottom surgery as well.”

Frank gasped. “Oh my God, yeah! I can’t wait for that as well! Damn, (y/n) with a cock…” He mumbled as he trailed off in thoughts, and you would’ve laughed if you could. All you could do was observe him with a wide grin, rolling your eyes. “Baby, that’ll be so nice,” he mumbled quietly. “I can’t wait for it.”

The way Frank knew how much it all meant to you and was happy because of it made your heart flutter. He was such a good boyfriend…

“Yeah,” you whispered, squeezing his hand a little more. You couldn’t stop grinning.

 ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

#my chemical romance #frank iero #x male reader #x reader #transmasc reader #trans reader #frank iero x reader #mcr x reader #mcr #oneshot #imagine #scenario

[witch-and-her-witcher]

Chapter Twelve

nessian | E | marriage of convenience, first hybern war AU, angst, whump, emotional slow burn

War brings them together, a bond binds them - but is that enough for two broken people to find love with each other?

Thank you @popjunkie42-blog and @wilde-knight for your beta reading and handholding. <3

For my darling @asnowfern!

Ao3 | Chapter 12/24

~*~

Fear and panic mingle in Nesta’s stomach that has suddenly dropped to her feet. 

This is bad. 

Very bad.

Both males step closer to her, leering and insulting her in Illyrian. Nesta grapples at her side — but she hadn’t grabbed her knife, too warmed through by good company and good food. 

She slipped up, became complacent.

And now she’s going to pay for it.

The hairs on the back of her neck raise and she doesn’t dare move her eyes from the threat of the fae males to check for anything else she might use as a weapon.

“What, nothing to say, princess?”

“Not so prickly when your mate’s not here to protect you?”

Nesta bares her teeth. “I typically don’t waste my time speaking with trash on the street is all.”

The second male, the one with two plaits down his back who had ironically offered her warning all that time ago about being caught in the dark, growls, taking offense. Despite her survival instincts, Nesta still can’t stop running her mouth.

Although, as far she can see in this situation, she’s shit out of luck anyway.

Might as well go down with her pride intact.

“Where’s all your Illyrian male honor? Are you really so afraid of Cassian you’d corner me while you know he’s away?” Nesta spits at their feet. “Cowards. Run off now and I won’t make you the laughing stocks of this town, of your legion. Or maybe I’ll decide to curse you, how’s a lifetime of impotence sound?”

She knows the bluff won’t work. The smell of alcohol is stinging her nostrils the closer they come, but she doesn’t want to back herself up against the building behind her and lose any maneuverability. Buying time, that’s all she can hope for.

Or making them sloppy with anger, giving her an opening.

“Probably a lot like your normal life, heh? Your mother’s womb already cursed you with the ugliest faces in Windhaven —”

Mama’s Boy lunges for her, but he ducks down too low to do so, misjudging her height in his drunken state. Leaving the fine membranes of his wings exposed. 

Maybe an Illyrian wouldn’t take the shot, but Nesta has to take advantage of any opportunity she’s given. 

It’s dirty and low. 

What they’ll do to her is worse. 

She scratches the delicate skin, digging her nails as deeply as she can manage with a fierce cry before it's muffled by her teeth clamping down on his ear. The salt of his flesh is disgusting. What's even worse is the metallic, copper flood of his blood in her mouth.

When she pulls back, spluttering around the disgusting mixture of his hot blood and her own bile rising, it's with a chunk of his ear. Nesta spits it out immediately, adrenaline the only dam to tossing the full contents of her stomach. Mama’s Boy has sticky, dark red blood coating his ear —what’s left of his ear—, the side of his face, and down his neck. 

Truly gruesome. 

The last time she’d seen a wound like it —

Her stomach clenches violently, her mouth waters with impending nausea. 

No, no, no.

Her fingers are still scrabbling for any piece of veiny, membranous wing.

Fightfightfight 

She has to focus, not throw up, do not throw up —

Distracted trying to pull herself together, Nesta misses the lurch of Mama’s Boy dropping his shoulder in agony. With his forward momentum and much heavier weight with his wings behind it, his shoulder connects with her chest and drives her back onto her ass — out of Two-Plaits’ reach as he tries to wrench her off his companion.

“You whore bitch!” Mama's Boy and his receding hairline cry, cupping his bloody ear. Tears well with fat drops in his eyes just like the blood along the gouges in his wings. 

She's sure it's an automatic response rather than a sign of weakness, but it fills her with pride nonetheless. It helps pull her from the edge of sickness, from spiraling out in flashbacks and panic.

She forgets the taste of his blood, the feel of his chunk of ear on her tongue.

“You're going to regret that,” Two-Plaits growls.

Nesta bares her bloody teeth in challenge.

“Not before you do.”

But with the outline of both of their great frames looming over her, Nesta doesn't feel the same cockiness she speaks with. Inside, she knows she’s out of chances. She's enraged them and now they know she'll fight dirty.

Her bowels feel watery, her heart rate ratcheting into her ears and drumming too loudly to hear her own thoughts. Abject terror, because she’s put up her fight and now … now what the hell is her pride going to do for her.

There's no sword to wield this time.

There are no fellow soldiers at her back.

There has to be something she’s not thinking of. This isn’t how she’s going down.

She's debating if staying down and getting a few well aimed kicks to their groins is worth it or if she should try and scramble to her feet, to run and undoubtedly get caught, when a voice cuts in.

“What's going on here?”

read more

#CYLMWIHM #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta #cassian #acotar #acotar fanfic #my writing

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #32: Redmond

Masterlist

content: past starvation

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The truck stop had a store beside it. It was a warm morning, considering they were in the middle of winter. There were still not many people around. He was hungry.

The hunger came on with a violent force and speed, waking him up before the sunshine or Heather ever could. Now that Jackie had access to soup and tea and such luxuries, it seemed that his appetite had returned. His head ached, his limbs ached, his chest ached, and his guts shredded themselves into knots. It was a desire that drowned out all other wants, suffocated all thoughts, as sudden and intrusive as a bullet wound. 

It was a wonder, really, how he survived this long without any proper sustenance. He could believe in gouged eyes, severed limbs, and charred skin, but surviving extreme starvation was a little ridiculous. As an esteemed biochemist once said: was he a fucking plant? That wouldn’t make any sense, either. There was no sunlight in the basement. Those pages of Oliver Twist he gnawed on couldn’t have possibly been enough. But his biology didn’t care for such intricacies. He needed to deal with it immediately, and he would suffer immensely until these demands were met.

“Heather.”

“Yes, Jackie?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d be digging my own grave. I feel like I’m gonna keel over. Or puke.” He put his head against her shoulder. “I’m starving. Can I get—I don’t know, whatever this truck stop sells. I could eat a horse right now.”

“I’ll get you something. Don't be so dramatic.” She unlocked her door. “Do you think you can walk?”

“I can walk. A little.”

“Then you’re coming with me.” Heather cleared her throat. “Listen carefully. If anybody asks, your name is Elijah Smith. You’re my boyfriend, and we’re here on holiday. Don’t talk to anybody unless prompted. Try not to look so… I don’t know, inexplicably exhausted? Try to act natural.”

“Your boyfriend?” He cocked his head to one side, grinning.

“Funny you should mention that. I actually spent a lot of time thinking about this. You could pretend to be my brother, but the problem is that I’m an only child. Any investigator with half their wits could read my files and find out we’re lying. I’m not married, either, and I’ve never been divorced, so you can’t take my hypothetical husband’s name. You could be my friend, obviously, but that would sound suspicious. We will be sleeping in the same room, after all. People think romantic relationships are more important, and I’d rather not elicit any strange looks if we check into a hotel together. Any attention is bad attention. That about covers it, I think. Oh, and I don’t think you could ever pretend to be my dad. No offense, but you barely look twenty.”

"...Oh. Okay."

“By the way, if you’re planning to yell for help, don’t bother. I’ve got a pistol in my bag.” She opened the car door. There were sounds of seagulls—were they near water?—and the distant murmur of wind, as well as the dull roar of trucks above all that. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”

He left the car as well, and managed to stand up despite the debilitating sensation in his stomach. The air was rich with the scent of lake scum and dead fish, and quite a bit warmer than the biting breeze he’d felt the night before. There were a few trucks around, and one or two cars. A stray candy wrapper crashed and stumbled across the concrete. The yellow plastic was so vivid to him. Brilliant as a sheaf of gold, catching the sunlight like a newly cut jewel. It was lovely to be outside again.

Heather took his hand, a little too tightly, and they walked into the store. A bell rang above the doorway. It was not very big, but not crowded either. Its stock was similar to a convenience store, except they also sold pastries and coffee. No tea. He hadn’t seen this much food since… well. There were no polite euphemisms for kidnapping. It was hard for Jackie to take his eyes off the strudels and croissants, even as Heather spoke to him.

“I don’t know if they have soup,” she said in a low tone. “Do you think you can eat something else?”

He nodded. “I want a muffin. Can I have a muffin?”

“Alright, I’ll buy a muffin. Go look at some hunting knives or something. Don’t leave the store, though. I’ll come over when I’m done.”

He glanced over to the aisle of hunting knives. “Why do they have so many?”

“Lord knows.” She let go of his hand. 

He was left standing there, feeling rather lost in such a public space. 

He could have screamed. He could have run outside and kept running until his lungs went raw, or until the police found him. But to risk losing Heather’s trust would be suicide—no, a kamikaze, considering how much was at stake for her. And he would never get that muffin. Besides, he did sympathize with her situation. It wasn’t easy being on the run. He didn’t have to make things difficult for her. 

Either way, the cost of failure was too high. It was hard to forget the scars along his chest, or the burns on his skin. Escape was a pipe dream best left to rot.

The hunting knives were not particularly interesting, but they were something new, and he was always craving something new lately. They were small, curved on the edges. Used for skinning animals, he assumed. He didn’t think such a tiny knife could kill anything. But they were probably meant to be souvenirs, rather than actual tools. Some of them had little designs on the handles. There was one with the words Redmond, Washington on it, under the city’s pine tree symbol.

Redmond? We aren’t in Seattle anymore? Did Heather even live in Seattle? He had always assumed so. His old apartment was in Seattle. But it wasn’t a stretch to assume she’d gone hunting out of town, so to speak. She could have driven across the state in order to abduct her newest organ donor, even across the country. They couldn’t have reached a new state so quickly, though, so she probably still lived somewhere in Washington. Also, didn’t she have an address? Obviously. Everyone did. Why didn’t he check the address above her garage? There had to be one, but it had completely slipped his mind. I’m such an idiot. That’s why I got into this mess in the first place.

“Here’s your muffin.”

He jumped. “Shit, Heather, you could have said hello first. How do you walk so quietly?”

“You’re just zoned out half the time. You wouldn’t notice me if I came in with a tuba and a clown nose.” She gave him the muffin. In her other hand was another coffee, in a cup made out of green paper. “We can eat in the car. Come on.” 

He followed her to the door. The bell rang above their heads, one last time. The birds continued to screech, somewhere unseen in the bright blue sky.

The smell of stagnant water returned, but only until they entered the car again, where it was quickly replaced by the smell of leather seats. Jackie shifted to get as comfortable as he could, while Heather tapped her fingers on the wheel.

He studied his muffin. It had chocolate chips. He hadn’t eaten chocolate in… he wasn’t sure, actually. There had been a chocolate cake, at some point. So many shiny, new things. He was a magpie in a jeweler’s house, so fascinated by all these wonders of life. Another shiny, new thing to pass the time. 

He liked muffins. He wanted to eat it. Of course. Obviously. Why wouldn’t he? He was so hungry, God. He couldn’t imagine going on a strike now. He would faint first. The craving was so strong that he didn’t know how to even start. He hadn’t eaten in so long. 

“What’s wrong with the food?” she asked.

“Sorry.” He kept his stare down. Didn’t Heather have a thing against apologies? Too late now, anyway. He just needed to eat. He needed to get it over with. It made him sick, rising with a feeling like nausea in his stomach. His vision came unfocused, like rows of tilting mirrors, like the world was tilting on its axis. But he couldn’t look away, or stay still any longer.

“You know what, I think I forgot something in there.” Abruptly, Heather opened the car door and stepped outside. “Don’t wait for me. Bye.”

He turned towards her, but she was already gone, and he was by himself. 

He let out a short, shaky exhale. She definitely didn’t forget anything. It was surely a lie. Besides, it wasn’t like Heather to leave him unattended. She was probably watching from somewhere remote, where he couldn’t see her. But that was what mattered: he couldn’t see her, couldn’t feel her stare.

She’d done it for his sake, to give him that thin veneer of privacy. Was it guilt, or apathy? Disgust at his weakness? Or maybe even kindness, despite his better judgment. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump

#whump #whump writing #my writing #Spiderwebs toyybox #carewhumper #Truck stops are great #No road trip is complete without the chance to finally leave the car and eat a donut or something

[stuckasmain]

The Diva and the Greaser - One works on paper the other gets a bad start

I mentioned in my last post that the real comparison is to be made between Willie and Mutt instead of Short round. Both these characters have a really good concept/archetype to them, they work really well on paper but ultimately are the two most hated in the franchise from what I’ve seen. I want to explore why and defend Mutt a little, he’s not near as bad as people say and really neither is Willie…if you squint.

So your Divas in the jungle-

I’m not here to refute any hate for Willie as I have a similar distaste for her, the absolutely ear piercing preformance takes away from what could be a very interesting character ( albeit far from the best in the franchise). No offense to the actress but my god was she annoying…which is what she’s supposed to be in the role but she was just a tad too much to the point she was to the audience.

Now the concept behind her is great! Take a stuck up, spoiled and gold digging show girl and drag her on an adventure through the jungle. Watch how she stands out. How she freaks out. How she screams and pouts and growls! That’s hilarious! Any fish out of water story where a pampered character gets dirt on them and a bit of grit is a fun time. A unwilling Indy girl who absolutely despises him yet can’t get away do to circumstance? Hello?!

I’ll also admit that in certain points in the film this great concept shines through. I love the scene with her and Indy being so stubborn neither go to the other and they just lie there complaining! That’s funny! Same with her chipping a nail and “I hate water, I hate getting wet and I hate you!!” “Good!” The anti-tension is so great, mutual loathing is fun. There’s these little moments , where her performance is subtler and the concept shines through…. It’s a shame that her screaming through the rest of the movie makes you forget that.

So your greaser has a heart-

I think Mutt is another great example of a character that’s fantastic on paper, and regardless I’d what you think of Shia he did a great job at portraying that. The bad is low… just don’t scream the whole time and be annoying. It is a real shame that this is the movie he appears in first, as that’s just not fair to him- the worst received of the films but he’s a great part of it (really the family dynamic is the star of the movie).

The concept behind him is also great. We see this kid who has a mountain of his own issues, who hides behind being a cool and slick gang member. He’s a tough guy, he don’t feel nothin’, don’t mess with him. As it goes on we see he’s quite the intelligent kid who likes to learn and knows more than he wants you to think. He’s a big ol’ softie and a mamas boy at heart. Kids brought out into the middle of the jungle only to find the man he loved and lost as a father is a step father and his real one was never in his life before now— that his mother never told him and things are complicated. Is he a bit of a well worn trope of “tough guys a softie”? Sure but I like the Not-so-twist- reveal of him being Indy’s son and the fallout that comes from that.

He’s a acknowledgement of the past- these things happened, there’s consequences (in this case its more unexpected pregnancy but you get what I’m saying). And the future. A gutsy kid to tell you that things aren’t over yet, giving the old man a boost back into adventure and reminding him of who he is.

Overall-

I think they’re both interesting examples of a character that’s a good idea but hit with bad luck. Either a annoyingly overdone performance or a weaker starting movie (mixed with actor irl drama I’m yet to understand). It’s a shame because Willie could’ve been great and Mutt was great but actor drama ruined his chances at a return.

#indiana Jones #Indiana Jones movies #Indiana Jones franchise #film criticism #character critique #hated characters #disliked characters #meta #Indiana Jones meta #character analysis #willie scott #mutt Williams #Henry jones III #henry jones jr #indiana jones and the temple of doom #indiana jones and the kingdom of the crystal skull #Indiana Jones and the Crystal skull #temple of doom #crystal skull

[linkedkeysau-official]

Linked Keys Febuwhump

Day 24- Bloody Clothes

“Come on…” Hyrule groaned, scrubbing furiously at his ruined green tunic and brown undershirt as he stood thighs-deep in a river somewhere in Four’s world, desperately trying to wash the blood off. Thankfully Future had managed to portal the Chain out of Hyrule’s era not long after “the incident”, so Hyrule was at least somewhat safer now, and free to take it easy and try to recover without having to worry about the monsters of his world sniffing him out. The problem was, his only set of clothing— save for his easily-mended shorts and his tough leather armor that doubled as a binder— had been ripped to shreds and soaked in his blood. Legend had said he might be able to fix it, but Hyrule refused to wear it until it was thoroughly cleaned; otherwise he’d be like a homing beacon to monsters.

Unfortunately, his clothes seemed to be stained beyond repair. He’d been at this for hours, scrubbing with every kind of soap the others had and would lend him, scrubbing until his hands were raw and his legs went numb in the cold water. The red had stopped coming out of it a while ago, but the stains were still there, and Hyrule wanted to cry. These were the only clothes he had, he couldn’t just burn them. But he had to either clean them or get rid of them, and if they weren’t coming clean…

“STUPID—!!!” He cried out in frustration, flinging his wet clothes onto the riverbank before sitting down in the shallow water in utter defeat.

“Rulie? You’re still over here?” Legend asked, approaching slowly from behind so as to not startle his friend. Hyrule’s reply was nothing more than a poorly muffled sob.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Legend sat on the bank next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Talk to me, Rulie.” Hyrule reached over and grabbed the bundle of wet clothes he’d just tossed aside.

“Look at this. They’re ruined.”

“Yeah, blood is… notoriously hard to wash out of clothes. Why do you think I wear so much red with other dark colors?”

“Yeah but these are the only clothes I have. Now they’re ruined and I don’t have anything else, so I can’t just get rid of them but I can't wear them anymore either,so what am I supposed to do?!” Hyrule wailed.

“You don’t have any other clothes?” Legend asked in disbelief. Hyrule shook his head.

“You should have told me! I have a spare tunic with me— One that actually boosts defense, too, which I bet you could use. You and I are about the same size, so it should fit.” Legend stood up and offered a hand to pull Hyrule up as well, “Come on, this water’s freezing. Come sit by the fire and I’ll find it for you.”

“You really don’t have to… I could probably just… borrow a cloak or something from Wild. It’d be a little small but he’s got more—”

“Oh my gods, Rulie! Stop. I’m lending you my defense tunic, end of story. Geez, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to guilt-trip me!” Legend huffed.

“I-I’m not trying to guilt trip you, I swear! I w-was just saying…” 

“I know, and that’s why I said ‘if I didn’t know better’. Seriously, you worry so much about everything. You really need to… What did Future call it…?”

“Take a chill pill?”

“Exactly. Take a chill pill.” The two had made it back to camp and Legend was now digging through his pouch, “And go put this on.” He handed over a wad of blue fabric.

“This… looks like a dress…” Hyrule commented without thinking. Great, now he was sounding ungrateful. But he really, really didn’t want to look like a girl…

“It’s just until we can get you some new clothes, okay? Besides, do any of us not look like we’re wearing dresses?” Legend smirked, earning him a sharp scowl from Warriors and a laugh from Wild. Even Hyrule couldn’t help but giggle,

“Fair point…”

#linked keys #lk #loz au #not lu #febuwhump2023 #mod kj #lk legend #lk Hyrule

[siremasterlawrence]

Just Desserts

I know it’s wrong to stare but I can’t help it no I can’t help myself he is so fucking hot and ripped.

Laying back on the pool floats eyes deck in sunshades and lost on the last heatwave of the summer.

I knew I had to have him so I embrace this new sudden dominant nature of my and jumped in to the pool.

“Well here goes nothing.” I say slipping a few drops of my serum in to the pool.

“Better get out now, it’s early morning and just us.” I state.

“What the fuck?” He screams as the rising pool water becomes a wave washing over him.

He sinks to the bottom of the pool slowing down and collapsing back in to the base.

The water starts to heat up to boiling hot temperatures as if he were cooking to his own perfection.

The water cools off the steam floating in to the air as he swims upwards towards me.

“Wwwwoooooohhhooooooo” he howls.

“I could of died in there…joking” he says then winks at me.

“I love you babe, let me take you out to dinner.” He says taking my hand in his.

We enter the hotel speeding to elevator in quick session as he pushes me with force.

His eyes begging me for more the leaning in his lips meet mine.

We make out so intensely my eyes almost miss the right floor and we are off.

“Finally some privacy.” He cries with fake tears.

“Want to join me in the shower.”

“Yes, but first”

He stares at me confusingly as I approach him and he squirms.

Playing with his nipples I can see my spell is workin is perfectly.

He stops shy of it all kissing me making a trail down my neck.

“Nice try!”

“What?”

“I’m in charge here, commence new protocol.”

———-

His name apparently is Derick Wells I soon find out after digging in to his mind and taking a shower with him.

“I’ll meet you downstairs”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“I hope so”

“I won’t disappoint you”

“I bet you won’t”

“Of course not”

A hour later I agree to meet him at the hotel

restaurant be owns purchasing it early that morning.

“I hope I set the mood right”

“Never met a Master like you”

“Or any guy like you?”

“You changed my world “

“You changed everything “

“My love”

“Do you have any other slaves?”

“Not at the moment “

“Lucky me”

“You think so huh?”

——-

The restaurant is closed allowing us to eat, speak and dance.

The moonlight bright blows in to the room it’s white light washes if a silver beauty.

“Oh My God!”

“How did you?”

“Do this to you?”

“No love me”

“I am just me”

“So what?”

“You aim to please right?”

“I love you Master”

“So do I babe, so do I”

“Perfect “

The end

#Hypno Coven

[drewdaves-blog]

Reposts from 2014

MIRROR my eyes on fire everything smells like mirror glass I’ll not let you crawl through my skin again I can’t handle the dry numbness nether again

JOURNEY camper van silent sadness hung like a broken disco ball from the roof touching everyone with it’s unsparkle unshine she ’s gone I whispered move on and tugged the gloom even tighter about me

DOLLAR burn little light burn for a dollar I don’t want to wake to see the groping hand feel the holler collar I don’t want to shake in the night queens parlor

SADNESS amid the slippery spaces of our touch and tell hair bound in fingers and strewn clothes as well there is an inexplicable sadness a melancholy only heard in our sighs

LUIGI’S HORSES listen the boxes of soul light turn carousel speed wooden steeds painted on the inside seem to gallop in place it’s life it’s going nowhere and desperately wants to be real GENTLE my eyes are beds to the world dark walnut frame white duvet black satin pillow case where the tired might find rest HURT If I could just weep while I sleep…. do you mind crying on my face tonight? I can’t do both

SKIN once I slipped on your skin and saw the world through your yellows and blues its so much brighter than mine it hurt my eyes a note to the social butterfly from the recluse in your life HEART beneath and under her beauty elegant wrappings her heart was hollow bird bones fragile built to fly

BYE in the middle of that disconnect discontent when all your tears had been spent I just wretched wiped my mouth screamed aloud buried my love six feet down walked out not another sound JUPITER A ball of magical gas with rings and pretty things in orbit about your stormy skin

FIVE Excerpt from a meeting with my inner child found him tied to a tree binds cutting five had to be five injured and scared released him, held him everything will most certainly not be alright but I’m here I’m not going anywhere AGE I can feel your hand wither the bones beneath veins bas relief so stretched though too I can feel your soul resounding bell giant endless well your a planet trapped inside a crumbling shell grandmother

LUNAR EYESCAPE ahh to walk upon her eye in its hazel foam fog til i reached its black brine through its tumble jungle bog then slowly loose my mind after reveling in it all

SCOOP yesterday you weren’t here I felt not hollow but as if i was being hollowed out by the cosmic melon scoop

LEVIATHAN one of the majestic beasts who swims in my soul’s waters died the day you lied to me

DRAGON we found the snake in the garden but it was your hands that bit digging into my bicep leaving fear marks in shades of bruise I didn’t really care for I was in that moment Galahad

INTERVIEW In an interview Mary was asked to comment on kissing… she said “I’ve been kissed with lying lips so often, that when I finally tasted the truth it was far too sweet” And your first kiss? Mom still thinks she was the one, but grandfather did it unawares. Do you use your tongue when you kiss? “Sometimes more often my mind and very seldom my heart” What was your best kiss? “ My daughter fell forward and her lips struck my forehead like a spongy feather” Do you have any advice for us? Don’t make your own mistakes, let someone else do it for you. Any advice on kissing? “linger!”

SLEEP my head your thigh your hand my head your nails my skin your watchfulness my sleep

LIE Lie to me lie on me lie beside me Let me into your world that dirt cornflake world that is so messed up and yet so alluring lie to me lie on me lie beside me Climb inside my horizontal plane and we’ll search for something pristine and when we don’t find it we’ll dream

#old poems #reposts #my poems #poetry #my first tumblr poems #prose

[jules-onpaper]

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 (𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭)

A/N: Reposting as its own post because I had second thoughts about hijacking Kelli @frannyzooey's Write Night post 😅 (I'm sorry! Can I blame that on Lucien excitement too?) Anyway, here's a thing that's been clattering around my noggin and drafts a while. It's so different than my usual stuff that I'm pretty unsure about it. idk. I guess I'm afraid Marcus comes off as rather mean and that's not him, you know? 😭

Warnings/Notes: explicit language 18+; villain!Marcus Moreno; dom!Marcus/brat!reader; breath play; spit; Marcus has metal bending powers; reader wears a torc as a collar that only Marcus can remove; established relationship -- let's assume for the sake of D/s safety that this is an unusually UNHEALTHY slip in their dynamic ok??; they're having a fight they make up with tears and kisses

WC: 828

“You just couldn’t do as you were told, could you, baby?”

“Fuck off, Marcus,” you snap, stomping past him into the penthouse. A guard tries to stop you and you shove his hand away and repeat your mantra, “Fuck off,” before shoving your way into the flat and stalking off to the balcony. 

Beneath you, the city breathes in neon and exhales exhaustion. 

“Abdul,” Marcus says from inside, distant, as though pondering something. “Take a walk.”

You weren’t quite brave enough to slam the door in his face, but maybe you should have. Then you wouldn’t have had the swoop in your gut to turn and find him watching you, his eyes blank, assessing. Your stomach flips when his jaw ticks, ever so slightly. 

“Is that how you speak to me?” Marcus asks. 

Anger flickers to life in you again. You feel like a child. “I’ll speak to you how I want.”

“Oh really?” He seems pleasantly interested, marginally so. He looks down and begins to peel off his black leather gloves, one at a time. A thick desire begins to make your mouth water, your legs woozy. “Well, come on.”

“Come on what?”

“Speak to me like you want. You want to be rude? You want to be a brat? Let’s hear it, baby.”

“I’m not being a fucking brat,” you spit. “You’re being a condescending asshole. I wanted to help. I was going to, but you stopped me. Why the fuck did you stop me?”

“Because, sweetheart, I can’t protect you when you’re being selfless and impulsive.”

“I want to go home,” you snap next. “Take my torque off.”

The air fizzles out between you. The wind plays with your hair, your bare skin, making you shiver. 

“Ask me again,” Marcus says, very quietly. “Ask me, sweetheart, and I swear I’ll take it off and drive you home. You want to be alone? Is that it?”

You want… to scream. You actually stomp your boot on the concrete. “No!” you yell. You don't want to be alone, you don't really want the reassuring weight of his collar off, but you want him to hurt, hurt like you hurt. “Take it off now. You’re so — so—“ You dig for something pointed, jagged enough to hurt. “I just thought you might want some other whore to fuck, some pliable thing with Botoxed lips and a virgin asshole.”

His eyes pop. “Excuse me?”

“Oh sorry, that’s not quite right is it? I’m mixed up. It’s you. You’re the whore, Marcus. You whored yourself out for this city and now you want me as your consolation prize. Well sorry. I’ve gone bankrupt on you. I’m not gonna make you spread your legs any-“

Your back slams against the brick wall of the balcony before the thought completes in your head, and you suck in a ragged breath of air. He didn’t even bother with his powers. His fingers are thick and held tight about your throat instead, his eyes dark, his teeth bared. There’s a perfect control in his fingers that in no way matches the glint in his pupils.

“You think,” he breathes, “You’re hot shit today, don’t you?”

“Just admit I’m a wet hole for you to fuck and let me go,” you snarl. 

You think, for a second, you see a flash of something pained, a wounded animal. And then his fingers squeeze your throat, his expression cold. He watches your pupils dilate and scowls. 

“Yeah? This is how you want to be? A little brat? You’re getting wet right now, aren’t you?” He gives you a little shake and your legs quiver. “If I look under this dress are you gonna be dripping for me?”

He leans in, bites at your bottom lip until you whimper. “Yeah, that’s how you like it, isn’t it baby? You like being a wet little hole ready whenever I want you, don’t you? You never feel better than when you give yourself over to being my little fucktoy. Open your goddamned mouth.” You do. He spits on your tongue. 

With a muffled squirm, you swallow it, show him your tongue.  “Knees,” he growls. “Now.”

Gelatinous, you do. You fall onto your knees with a thud that you know will bruise, but you don't feel it. You're looking up at him with a glaze over your eyes, and the moment he sees it the mirror between you breaks into a billion shards of crystal dust. Marcus drops to his knees, cradles your face in his big palms. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispers, his voice cracked. "I'm sorry. Look at me, sweetheart. I'm so sorry, I'd never hurt you, never, I'd never keep you here if you wanted to go." When you sink into him, your muscles liquid, he cradles your head in the cup of his palm, murmuring love notes and eulogies for promises past in your ear. "I just can't lose you. I can't lose you like I lost her."

#whatever I banish thee to the internet so this brain rot will leave me aloneeeee #marcus moreno/reader #marcus moreno fanfiction #we can be heroes

[aisha-ot]

Well hello there everyone, long time no see …

I’m back and I hope you’re ready because we’re about to catch the flight of a lifetime.

I’m currently in my final year of studying Occupational Therapy (I know right, I still can’t process it). This year entails a number of new experiences and I can’t wait to share it all with you.

This week I want to start off with something that I think is one of the most important things to talk about seeing as I’m in a block that deals with it directly. The health of mothers and children, specifically looking at mothers and children living in communities like the one I’m working in.

My first block this year is community block. And, let me tell you, WOAH. It is a big change and a lot of work and many things to wrap my head around. I cant lie, I’ve had around 4 crying sessions so far, but we all know that’s how I cope. Cry and get back to work. It’s a good tactic in my opinion.

Back to my point, maternal and child health within the community.

I read an interesting article when thinking about how to go about this discussion that I think would be a great way to understand a mother so that we can also then understand how it affects our work as OT’s. I’ll add the link below so that you can also take a look at it.

The main thing I wanted to take from the article was that a mother is seen in different ways at different levels (Common Good, 2022).

A mother as an individual has personal experiences, struggles and problems that plays a part in how they function in their day to day lives. This can speak to their identity, their self-esteem and their overall mental health. This is so important to understand because let’s take us for example, when we’re upset or we’re sad or if we aren’t feeling good in our own skin, we sometimes don’t feel like doing anything or we don’t feel like leaving our rooms. Let me know if I’m right or if I’m talking rubbish.

I hope that what I said makes sense. But now let’s think about mothers, imagine feeling all of what was said above and not wanting to do anything, but you have a whole human being to take care of that needs your support. I’m hoping that my point is starting to take shape in your minds at this point. When looking at a mother as an individual we have to consider how their personal health and mental health can be affecting the care and development of their child. A mothers poor personal and mental health in turn has a negative effect on the child’s overall health. This is one of the reasons at to why maternal health is so important, especially to Occupational Therapists. We need to focus on mothers and intervene in any way we can in order to prevent a domino effect of further issues developing as time goes on.

(Waters, 2022)

(PSA: this is not what a mum and child’s environment looks like in a South African community setting!!)

Before we move on to the other 2 levels of a mother, I do want to touch on something I’ve learnt this week that links to our role as Occupational Therapist’s. It’s so easy for us to get sucked in to stories from our clients and to feel an overwhelming sense of sympathy and need to help in any way we can. I think I can sometimes get a bit carried away in this aspect. I’ll be completely honest here and tell you that I forget my role as an OT and feel this need to just give them whatever they need to help them in that moment.

BIG MISTAKE.

From all the lessons I’ve learnt this week (which was a lot, might I add), I think the one thing that sticks out to me is that, yes, we do need to find out personal information about our clients and, yes, we do need to dig deeper and see the hidden meanings. But in a community context, when we’re trying to provide a service to so many people in need of it, acting like a counselor is not what is going to fix things. Listening to a mothers story about the trauma she’s been through and letting her cry for 20 minutes in our session is not going to change anything. What is going to make a difference is asking the tough questions, finding the root cause of the problems and developing solutions that is surely to show change.

However, I read an article that expresses a thought that somewhat contradicts what I’ve just said. The link is attached below for those of you that want to expand your knowledge.

Let’s get into it. Ann A. Wilcock wrote an article about occupational science and within it she explains that transformation is the path to well-being, especially because it doesn’t focus on the “mundane” aspects of a persons life but rather on their dreams of aspirations (Wilcock, 2005).

This is a safe space, so I’m going to outright say that I do not agree with what she’s said. That’s because when we look at our South African community, so many mothers and families are suffering from a number of problems. Poverty, gender based violence, HIV/AIDS and the list goes on. In my opinion, our role as Occupational Therapists is to improve their lives in any way we can, even if that means focusing on the simple every day needs and problems faced by the mother, not to “transform” their lives and help them achieve their biggest hopes and dreams. I feel like that concept is somewhat unrealistic. Let me know your thoughts in the comments, I’d love to hear if you disagree, let’s argue…

I think it’s time I move on to the other 2 levels of a mother and try to wrap this up.

Let’s talk about the last two levels together because I think they somewhat link. Level 2 is the mother within the household and level 3 is the mother within the community.

What does the home look like? Is the father present? Does the father treat the mother and child right? Is the mother exposed to HIV/AIDS? Does the mother have the resources available for her to raise her child? Is there an income that the mother is living off? Is she working? Where does she leave her child? Is she able to access a doctor when the child gets sick? Can she get HIV/AIDS medication in her community? Is there a stigma of HIV within the community? Is there violence in the community? Is she safe in her home?

(Stats SA, 2014/15)

As of 2014/2015, 49.2% of South African’s have been living in poverty (Stats SA, 2014/15), and it’s most likely increased from then. This statistic is so clearly prominent in the community that I’m based in.

Out of all the mothers and children that I have seen this week, I can tell you that more than half of them are HIV positive, majority are single mothers, gender based violence is an underlying factor that mothers are trying to hide, they are struggling with generating an income and some are living off government grants and the community that they live in often threatens their safety.

The same goes for children in our South African communities. There’s another blog post from the Sikunye blog I’ve linked above that briefly explains the tragic reality of our children in South Africa, I think it’s a great quick read to understand just how many issues our communities face. It highlights that poverty, malnutrition, infectious diseases (HIV), stress, violence, psychosocial risks and disrupted caregiving are all risks to a child’s development (Common Good, 2024).

These are all factors that we as Occupational Therapists need to consider as each factor impacts the well-being of both the mother and the child. And we as Occupational Therapists have an important role to play in using the community based approach to improve the mother and child’s well-being.

To end off, I want to reiterate that we cannot be superhero’s and help everyone achieve their biggest hopes and dreams. But what we can do is use our knowledge, use our theories and our experiential learning and growth to find the root cause of the problems we see and change the seed that is grown, the soil it’s planted in and the water that’s used to grow it (my sincere apologies, I just laughed at myself for being that cringe). But the analogy makes sense, our role as OT’s is to be client centered and to have a community based approach which means we need to focus on the mother and child, their environment and the macro factors that impact their development and growth.

That’s all for today folks. Please let me know your thoughts on the comments, let’s interact and learn together. I’ll be back soon with more stories and OT life lessons, I hope to see you back here again.

References

Five Facts About Poverty in South Africa. Statssa.gov.za. (2015). https://www.statssa.gov.za/?p=12075

Good, C. (2022, April 20). What is it like being a mother in South Africa?. Sikunye. https://sikunye.org.za/blog/what-is-it-like-being-a-mother-in-south-africa/

Good, C. (2024, January 21). The big why behind the sikunye model. Sikunye. https://sikunye.org.za/blog/the-big-why-behind-the-sikunye-model/

Waters, D. (2022, April 26). What is postnatal depression and what treatment is available?. GoodTo. https://www.goodto.com/family/postnatal-depression-115582

Wilcock, A. A. (2005). Occupational science: Bridging occupation and health. Canadian Journal of Occupational Therapy, 72(1), 5–12. https://doi.org/10.1177/000841740507200105

[bordemm]

𝑉𝐴𝑁𝐼𝑇𝑌 (𝐷𝐴𝐼𝐶𝐻𝐼 𝑆𝐴𝑊𝐴𝑀𝑈𝑅𝐴)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴅɪʟғ! ᴅᴀɪᴄʜɪ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ (ᴅᴀɪᴄʜɪ ɪs 42 ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs 19), ᴘʀᴀɪsᴇ? ᴍɪʟᴅ ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅɪɴɢ, ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ, ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇs(ᴀɴɢᴇʟ,ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇ) ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ᴇᴅɪᴛᴇᴅ ʟᴍᴋ ɪғ ɪ ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ

ᴅᴀɪᴄʜɪ x ғᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴄᴀʟ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴅᴇᴘᴏᴛ ᴅɪʟғ ғᴏʀ ʜᴇʟᴘ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2,084

ɴsғᴡ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ

You slipped out of your car, locking it with a final beep as you made your way to the entrance of the home depot. You pulled out your phone, staring intently at the wiki how in front of you, the instruction in big, bold letters.

‘How to build your own vanity

It should be simple enough. Frankly, you weren’t in any position to buy yourself a vanity, so you settled for the next best thing, building it yourself. You gazed up at the aisle names looking for the right one. You knew how out of place you looked here. If your tiny little skirt and even smaller shirt weren’t a sign you had no idea what you were doing, the confused look on your face was more than enough to let the others around you know. You walked down the lumber aisle, dwarfing under the tall shelves as you look for a 4x4 plank of wood. What the fuck was a 4x4? You bit your lip, bending forward to get a closer look at all the names on the items on the self, trying to figure it out yourself, too stubborn and hardheaded to ask for help.

Daichi walked down the aisle, his eyes meeting your hunched-over body as your big innocent eyes scanned the shelves. You looked...confused, and well, Daichi is a nice man, and what kind of man would he be if he let a sweet little thing like you wander around this giant store confused.

“Excuse ma’am, do you need help?” he asked, making you jolt a little, gazing up at the man in front of you. He was big. His muscles were strained under the tight material of his black shirt. The veins in his arms bulging under his skin. His broad shoulders hid you from the view of anyone that would walk down this aisle.

“O-oh, I am, yes, please,” you confessed with a defeated sigh making the older man chuckled as he ran a big hand through his hair, the snow grey hair peeking out at the roots.

“Alright then, what are you trying to do?” he asked, towering behind you, looking at the same shelves with a small smile.

“I’m trying to build my own vanity,” you said, pulling out your phone showing him the website that gave you all the materials and instructions that you would need to make it. He nodded in understanding before pulling his cart towards you two putting wood in there.

As you two gathered all the materials needed to make your own vanity you made idle chit chat, you came to learn a lot about the older man, he was a single divorced father with a 16-year-old son, three years younger than you.

“Not to be rude Mister but how old are you?” you asked as you two walked side by side in the isle

“42” he said and you simply nodded slowly ignoring the way your cunt was drooling at the older man, he was sweet and so polite. He had crows feet and deep smile lines around his lips, he didn’t look 42, but you could tell he is definitely older.

Daichi saw the way you were looking at him. Saw how your mouth practically water every time he would reach up to grab something, your eyes flying down to gawk at his happy trail. He couldn’t deny you were pretty so sweet and shy listening intently to all the tips he was giving you on how you could build this little vanity and even offering to come over and build it for you, it was his ex-wife’s week to watch their daughter so he had nothing better to do than to build a pretty young girls vanity.

As you two made your way to the check out you began to bounce your foot nervously as you watched the numbers climb up, Daichi noticed your demeanor a small smile coming across his face before he turned to you.

“Hey sweetheart, I forgot something you mind running and getting the staples sweet thing?” he asked, flashing you his pearly white smile, your face grew hot at the pet names nodding shyly and running off to go get the staples. Daichi quickly scanned the rest of the items putting the card into the machine and paying for everything.

You scurried back to the older man holding out a box of… nails?

“i -i couldn’t find staples so i thought nails?” you confessed your cheeks burning up only making Daichi let out a loud belly laughing shaking his head. A big hand came down, ruffling your hair before he made his way to the exit pushing the cart in front of him.

“Hey, I have to pay for all that stuff!” you said, trailing behind Daichi looking concerned making him laugh and put you in front of the cart him pushing it behind you, your backflushed against his chest.

“Don’t worry about it sweet girl, I got it covered” he said looking around the parking lot

“Which is your car?” he asked, prompting you to point over to your little car that can barely even fit your groceries in, bold of you to assume that it would fit all these supplies.

“Little one, i hate to break it to you but that is not going to all fit in there” he says pushing the cart further down the parking lot before stopping in front of a large white f-150.

“I throw all this stuff in my truck and then just follow you back to your apartment, how does that sound?” he said, leaning back against the truck, you only nodded and began helping him throw everything in the trunk.

“Here get in the trunk I’ll pass you the stuff,” Daichi says lifting you from under the arms and putting you in the trunk, while doing so he got a peek at your pretty pink panties and the wet spot forming in them making his cock strain in his pants.

Thank you for helping me again, mister,” you said as you began to load everything into the trunk.

“Don’t mention little one,” he said, handing you the last can of paint. He held his arms out to you to help you come down which you happily accepted. He set you down on the ground where you instructed him to just follow you on your way back home.

You pulled into your apartment complex parking in your designated spot, Daichi right next to you. Shutting off your car you got out walking towards Daichi who was already heading your direction.

“Come in, sit for a second. We don’t have to get started, right away,” you said, taking Daichi’s hand and leading him up the stairs to your apartment.

He walked in, smiling a little, it was so yo. The decor, the furniture, the smell, everything screamed you.

“I can show you where I wanted to put the vanity,” you say, guiding him back to your room. Flopping down on your bed, ignoring the way your skirt rode up or the way your nipples pebbled under your shirt once you entered the cold room.

“Right there,” you said, pointing to the far wall in your room, Daichi snapping his head to look in that direction.

“Hmm i don’t know if it will fit love, it’s pretty big and that such a tight spot, it’s gonna be a squeeze” he said, his words sending heat to your cunt you cleared your throat smiling up at him pressing your thighs together.

“I’m pretty good at making things fit, nothing ever too big,” you said your voice becoming smaller and softer making Daichi bite his lip

“Yeah baby? Can you make anything fit?” he asked, taking your hand and putting it over his hard throbbing cock. Your eyes widening at the sheer girth of him before sheepishly nodding your head.

“I can make it fit daddy, promise,” you said, the name rolling off your tongue like sin. Daichi let out a groan pushing you down on the mattress crashing his lips into yours.

“Fuck your gonna make it fit aren’t you pretty girl? Because that’s what good little girls do,” he said as you nodded, bucking your hips in the air desperately.

“Yeah I’m gonna take it all!” you promised with a whine, your manicured hand gripping his shoulders as grounded his cock against your panty-clad cunt.

“Fuck baby I don’t know if i can wait. I need you now” he growled in your ear ripping your panties off a pained cry escaping your lips,

“Daddy, please please, I can take it no prep, see?” you said, scooching up the bed, opening your legs showing him your glistening cunt, a groan leaving his throat.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet, bet I could slide right in, hmm?” he asked, pulling off clothes feverishly before slotting himself between your legs bunching your skirt up around your hips. His cock rested heavy against your cunt as your lips bowed around his cock that was nestled between them, his tip bumping your clit.

“D-daddy can’t wait. Want it now” you whined, bucking your hips trying to coax his cock into your awaiting hole.

“I know I know m gonna give it to you” he said, pulling his hips back a little before popping the tip of his fat cock into your quivering hole.

“Daddy!” you squealed, feeling him stretch and open your walls up more than ever before his eyes trained on the way your cunt is sucking him in more.

“Fuck angel, you make me so fucking good, your so tight, a-are you a virgin” he asks confused on how you can be this fucking tight.

“N-no daddy! Your just too big” you whine your head rolling back as he sinks into you more and more, inch by inch until he bottoms out.

“Fuck this pussy is too fucking good, baby,” he said, pulling his hips back slamming them into you a loud, wet slap, ripping a scream from your throat. Daichi took that scream as an incentive to start moving.

His cock dragged and bumped your walls with accuracy that you think only comes with age. The way every vein in his cock was hitting every spot inside of you that made your legs shake was enough for him to drop his head down whispering filthy praises in your ear

“Fuck baby you milk my cock so well”

“You were made to take my cock weren’t you?”

“Fuck angel you’re so wet, you like this don’t you, getting off on fucking guys twice your age baby?” he questions as his cock hits the deepest parts of you. His tip is hitting your cervix so hard you’re scared he might breach and cum directly into your womb. You lock your legs around his lower back, your heels digging into him in an attempt to get him even deeper into your already battered cunt. The way your tongue lulls out of your mouth and your pretty tits bounce under your shirt have daichi’s fat heavy balls aching as the primal instinct to breed you, to mark you in the lewdest way possible, comes over him.

The feeling has him pounding into you even harder. The rhythmic slap of skin against skin and the squelching of your pussy fill the room, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment at the sound.

“D-daddy! Too deep!” you exclaim, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as he hammers into you.

“Fuck, not deep enough baby, gotta get deeper if I’m gonna breed this little cunt” he pants breathlessly from above you. The mention of him cumming inside you has your cunt clamping down around his shaft, your walls sucking him in more in an attempt to milk him dry.

“Oh fuck, you like that baby? Like the thought of being my pretty little breeding bitch baby?” he questions, his thrusts becoming sloppy and irregular.

“Y-yes, daddy! Please please cum inside of me, please stuff me full!” you squeal as you thrash under him cumming your pussy, holding on to him with a vice grip.

Daichi bites his lip, focusing his attention on moving against the resistance of your walls. His thrusts become sloppy as he presses his hips flush against yours, his cum spurting out, painting your walls white.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whine, feeling his warm cum swirl in your womb. He chuckles, rearing his hips back again, slamming into you.

“I’m not done”

tagged: @koutaroucutie @introloves

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #daichi sawamura #daichi smut #daichi x reader #dilf daichi #daichi x fem reader #haikyuu x fem reader #daichi sawamura smut #tw. breeding #tw. age gap

[ticklishtimothee]

our final night alive (simon kalivoda x reader)

summary: the reader and simon are in the bathroom together before it all goes down. and hey, since all their friends are going to “pound-town” as simon would call it, why shouldn’t they?

a/n: i just watched fear street 1994 on netflix and totally fell in love with simon, so i wrote this. i promise i’m working on the requests in my inbox as well, i just had to get this idea out while it was fresh.

words: 1,740

While Kate and Josh go into the girl’s bathroom, you and Simon figure it’s best to leave them alone. So, you follow Simon into the boy’s room, the clothes you’d snatched from the lost and found clutched tightly in your hands.

“Hey, I’ll trade you this Iron Maiden t-shirt for the cardigan,” Simon grins.

“You want to wear this thing?” you ask, raising a brow and holding up the blue knitted nightmare in your hands. You can already tell how itchy the fabric would be against your skin.

Simon nods. “I think it would really accentuate my shoulders. I’ve been told they’re my best feature,” he says, winking.

“Whoever told you that was a liar,” you reply, but toss him the cardigan anyway.

He catches it easily, then tosses you the t-shirt in return.

He wastes no time in pulling the white t-shirt over his head, and you’re thankful to see it gone. It was bad enough that he’d been wearing it for all that time, regardless of the blood stains. You avert your eyes as he strips off his jeans as well.

“Nice tighty-whities,” you mutter.

Simon snorts. “Sorry for putting practicality over fashion.”

“Says the guy putting on a girl’s cardigan to fight monsters.”

“Touché.”

You turn to face the wall, pulling your own shirt over your head, checking your torso quickly for any traces of blood. Finding none, you pull the new t-shirt on.

Out of the corner of your eye, you realize Simon still isn’t making an effort to get dressed. Instead, he’s checking himself out in the mirror, and you can’t tell if he’s goofing off or actually looking for any stains to wash off of his skin.

“You have some blood on your back,” you tell him. “Can’t tell if it’s Sam’s or yours, but better safe than sorry.”

Simon looks in the mirror, tilting his head to catch a glimpse, and furrows his brows. “I don’t see it. Help me out?”

You grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them under the sink. “Turn around.”

He does so, and you find the blood in question and wipe it off.

He jumps under the touch. “You couldn’t have used warm water?” he asks, difficult as always.

“I could let this sink run for five minutes and it’d be warm at best,” you reply. “You think this place has the budget for hot water?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

There’s a pause, and you’re still standing behind him, your eyes scanning over the pale expanse of his back, taking in each freckle. His shoulders were pretty nice, actually.

“You know you’ve gotta change your pants, too,” he says.

“Oh, right,” you say, cheeks burning. You go back to the pile of your things. When you look up, he’s watching you. “Am I allowed a little privacy?” you ask.

He smiles. “You could go into the stall.”

You roll your eyes. “Or you could turn around and not be a pervert.”

“Hey, you already saw me in my underwear,” he points out.

You scowl at him, then hook your thumbs into the waist of your pants and pull them down in a quick, fluid motion. You toe off your shoes to take them off entirely, leaving them on the tiled floor. “Happy?” you ask.

His smile fades. “What happened to your thigh?”

You look down and see the injury he’s referring to. Honestly, you’d been so caught up in everything going on, you’d barely noticed the shallow gash in your skin, but now that it was brought to the forefront of your mind, the dull ache began to settle.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “I guess one of those psychos grazed me.”

Simon takes another wad of paper towels. “May I?” he asks.

You nod, and he dampens them under the faucet. “Come put your leg up to the sink.”

You do as he says, wincing at the first contact he makes with it.

“Sorry,” he practically whispers. “I don’t have anything to bandage it up with, but the least we can do is get it clean, okay?”

“Okay.”

His face is close to your bare leg, making goosebumps rise where his nose and lips brush the skin. He’s gentle with you, one hand holding your leg steady while the other dabs at the wound tenderly, and you watch as the red mess slowly begins to clear up, leaving the wound still open but no longer bleeding.

“There, that should be better,” he says. “When we find the others, maybe they’ll have something to patch you up with.”

“Thanks.”

You place both feet back on the ground, standing before Simon, both partially undressed (him more than you) and trying to hide the feelings of terror in both of your chests.

“Do you think Deena and Sam are gonna make up?” you ask. “Oh, I think they’re probably fucking as we speak,” he replies.

You give him a light smack to the back of his head. “You’ve got such a dirty mind.”

“I’m serious! Kate and Josh are probably doing it, too. The whole last-night-on-earth thing gets people horny, don’t you know?”

“Oh, so we’re all gonna be killed by some freaks, so we should be banging?” you ask.

“Are you asking in general, or about us?”

You pause. “Both.”

His cheeks flush pink, and you swear it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him embarrassed. “In general, yeah, I think it’s human instinct to seek out some pleasure before the end. As for us, well...If you’re down, I’m down.”

You stare at him for a second. “Really?”

“Only if you want to, I mean—”

You grab him by the shoulders and kiss him, effectively cutting off his rambling.

In no time, he’s pushed your back against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom, kissing you back fevertently. You thread your fingers through his blond curls, and he sighs against your lips.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, breathless.

You nod, and he brings a hand between your legs, fingers running over your underwear teasing, making you shiver. 

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Yes,” you reply.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says, unable to meet your eye. “But I have a pretty good idea of what to do.”

“Me either,” you tell him. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

He nods and pulls you in for another kiss, this time rubbing you through your panties. You whine softly into his mouth.

“Does that feel good?”

“Try doing it a little gentler—oh, yes, like that…”

You can feel his hard cock against your belly as he reaches his hand down the front of your underwear. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine.”

Carefully, he finds your hole and presses one finger inside, making you clench nervously at first.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Try to relax for me,” he all but coos in your ear, and you do so.

He lets his finger slowly curl and uncurl inside you, stretching you out.

“Do you want to…?” you ask.

“I don’t have a condom,” he says, knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

“Well, if you get me pregnant, we’ll probably be dead before it’s even got arms and legs.”

He chuckles, and you appreciate that he’s able to find humor in the fucked up things, just like you.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He yanks down his underwear, and while you’d teased him about it before, the tight, white fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. Simon wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up, bringing you over to the sink and sitting you down on the brim of it.

“There’s no way this thing is gonna hold us,” you say.

“If we break it, we’ll be dead before they make us pay for the damages,” he replies, and you laugh.

He makes quick work of pulling your panties down, and they fall to the floor as he parts your knees. “Please tell me if I hurt you,” he says. “I want it to feel good.”

You nod. “I promise.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing his hips forward. He misses the first time, sort of poking the head of his cock into the crease of your thigh, and you both chuckle awkwardly at the mishap. The second time, he gets closer, but his cock slides upward and between your folds, making your legs jerk in surprise.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

The third time, he succeeds, and the initial stretch of his head entering you makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Should I stay still for a sec? Let you adjust?”

You nod, and so he does.

“You can move now.”

Slowly, he rocks his hips forward, and you manage to take more of him. Without you asking, he waits again, letting you get used to the feeling.

Your nails dig into his back. “You can go, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Simon, I’m sure,” you reply.

“Alright, I’m just double-checking!”

He fucks you carefully, his own movements a bit robotic at first, but when you pull him close to lock your lips together once again, he falls into a rhythm, and your ass hurts from sitting on the stupid sink, but he feels so good, his hot breath tickling your neck as he fucks you.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I’m already—”

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. You can come, just try to pull out,” you say.

He nods, and you can see him scrunching up his face, trying to gain some control and keep from cumming. It doesn’t make him last much longer, and he pulls out just in time, and you scoot to the side in a hurry, his come landing in the basin of the sink.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I can try to finger you again, or something.”

You laugh. “Simon, it’s fine. Some dudes would have come just from seeing me in my underwear. It’s fine.”

He nods, and his forehead is slightly sweaty, hair sticking to it, and his cheeks are flushed.

“I feel bad if you die and I didn’t give you an orgasm,” he says.

“Well then let’s both try our hardest not to die, and you can give me one another time. Deal?”

He grins. “Deal.”

#simon kalivoda #simon kalivoda x reader #fear street 1994 #fear street #simon fear street #fear street netflix #horror movie imagine #horror movie reader insert #horror movies #horror reader insert