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chamomiletealeaf · 2 months

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Sweet as Pie

Chapter 1

When Simon retires from the military, he buys a little cabin in Georgia to live the quiet life he's always wanted. It's rural, hidden, and exactly what he was looking for. However, it's not as rural as he thought it to be, when one day he finds out he has a cute lil next door neighbor who is sweet as pie.

pairing: fem!afab!southern! reader x mommykink! simon riley

a/n: Thank you to @thatonepupkai for inspiring me with this because I am now obsessed with mommy kink Simon and Southern reader.

warnings: mentions of trauma

Simon placed the last box of his belongings (which there weren't very many of) down in his new home.

He had just retired from the military, deciding to maybe try and experience some joy in his life.

Simon had never really experienced true joy. Not since his family. When he joined the Task Force he thought he could help save lives so that no one would have to live the way he did. He had nothing to live for, so why not try to save the lives of those who did have something?

But killing was hard. Something he didn't want to do. Was it really worth the risk? After Johnny nearly died by a shot to the head by Makarov, Simon felt an emotion that he hasn't felt since his family was alive.

For the first time in years, Simon Riley realized he had something to live for.

But he wasn't living, only surviving, which is why he decided to start a new chapter in his life and try and bring out that feeling he had gone so long without that he only got a taste of after Johnny was shot.

Which is where his rural cabin in Georgia comes in.

It was a beautiful wooden cabin; surrounded by nature and hidden by trees. It was alone, just the way he was. It was only one story and on a beautiful black lake that sparkled with the reflections of the sunny sky and warped images of the branches of the trees lingering over it. Maybe he would buy himself a kayak one day and go out on the lake. He was still learning how to take care of himself.

He didn't see any houses for a while. The closest house he saw being quite far down the lake, but close enough that he wasn't too secluded.

Simon wanted to start slow, inch his way back into civilization, and this cabin was the perfect start.

He placed the last box of his belongings down on the wooden floor in the living room. He sighed and placed his hands on his hips, then looked around as if he was trying to find something to do.

It felt awkward not having to watch his back 24/7.

He sat down on the little couch that came with the house, and opened up the box, deciding to occupy himself with putting away his things.

The first thing he took out the box was his only coffee mug that had the Task Force logo on it that Price had given to him so he wouldn't have to steal his mug to make his tea.

Tea, that sounded good.

Simon took the mug into the kitchen and put a kettle onto the stove.

As he waited for the water to heat up, he leaned back against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked outside his window in the kitchen, admiring the view of the lake.

Then something caught his eye.

From the window in the kitchen, Simon could see to the right of the cabin, which was most of the lake, and a lot of the wooded area beside it. He could see more from that window than the window in the living room, which showed the left part of his house, and that distant house that looked to be his only neighbor.

But in the distance, to the right, not too far from his cabin and definitely much closer than the other house, he saw a cute little pastel yellow house, also wooden, with a big white door.

"What the f-" Simon whispered under his breath, squinting his eyes to see if that was really another house he was seeing or maybe just a storage shed.

That's when he saw you.

Simon could see the door of your house that appeared to be the kitchen door. It was a single door with a little stoop to allow people to walk up and down it.

He watched as you opened the door, bringing a basket along with you, and walked over to the peach trees you had in your backyard.

You were beautiful. So much so that Simon unsquinted his eyes and his anger towards the realtor who sold him the house who failed to inform him of a closer-by neighbor faded.

He watched as you picked the peaches off the trees and pulled a white cardigan around your figure that slipped open every time you reached up to the branches of the tree.

Then, when the basket was full, he watched you disappear back into the coziness of your little yellow house, that was almost as cute as you were.

Simon stared at your kitchen door for a bit, awestruck by the woman he just saw.

Then the screeching whistle of the kettle is what snapped him out of his trance.

He rushed to turn the stove off and ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. Then with a sigh, he leaned against the counter on his palms, repressing a small grin creeping onto his face and thought:

Maybe having a neighbor wouldn't be so bad.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #ghost x reader #mommy kink simon riley #mommy kink simon #mommy kink simon riley x reader #mommy kink simon x reader

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schuylerpeck · 4 months

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2024

- REPLACE OVER-APOLOGIZING WITH “THANK YOU FOR LISTENING” WHENEVER POSSIBLE.

- LEARN HOW TO CHANGE A TIRE (PREFERABLY NOT OUT OF NECESSITY).

- ATTEND THE BAR TRIVIA NIGHTS YOU WRITE ABOUT.

- TAKE YOUR TIME PAINTING SOMETHING.

- BRING THE DOG SWIMMING.

- BAKE A BERRY PIE.

- SUMMER WILL LOOK LIKE RENTED KAYAKS.

- AUTUMN WILL LOOK LIKE SINGING NORAH JONES WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN.

- REINTRODUCE YOURSELF TO A FAVORITE FOREST. BRING A HOUSEWARMING GIFT.

- IF APPLICABLE, IF POSSIBLE, HOLD GRIEF WITH AN EQUAL GRATITUDE FOR HAVING HAD THE CHANCE TO LOVE WHAT’S GONE.

#2024 #poetry #poems #new years #new years eve #new years resolutions #schuyler peck #writers on tumblr #resolutions

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awepossum · 2 years

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I’ve been pretty busy recently because I'm gonna be starting two part-time summer jobs soon! so I’m probably gonna take a break from tumblr/social media for a bit haha

#possum says #text post #both are outdoor jobs so I hope this summer will be mild #which it probably won't be because of climate change ha....#but at least I get to learn how to kayak for one of them?

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merbear25 · 3 months

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A date to remember

Asking your crush out is nerve wracking, especially when that special someone is a Straw hat. You finally work up the courage to do it! No better time than the present, right?

Monster trio

SFW, gn!reader, mutual attraction

pt. 1, pt. 2

Luffy: You know damn well that anything less than being direct will only confuse him and would lead you to feeling awkward and chickening out. Much to your surprise he accepts!

You'd end up going somewhere fun:

going to the carnival. Get ready to go on rides till everything starts spinning, then eat, ride and probably get sick. It would be memorable and full of laughs.

going ice-skating. You'd have to help him a little but he'd be excited (and determind) to learn.

On the way home, you're both still laughing and telling jokes about the shenanigans you got up to.

He'd definitely give you a big bear hug at the end of the date and perhaps a cheeky little kiss too.

Zoro: Similar to Luffy, he's also someone you've got to be straightforward with. Dropping hints will not work with him. You've decided that enough was enough and today was the day you'd finally ask him out. W-wait....he said yes??

You'd choose something outdoorsy:

going hiking. Take a map with you. Even if there's only one trail, it'll just make everything easier if he wanders off.

going kayaking/canoing. Sit in the front so you have more control over the direction.

With both of these options, remember to take the time to appreciate the surroundings with him. Find a good spot to set up a picnic, cloud watch, take a power nap, and enjoy the nice weather and each other's company.

Ending things with one arm around you and brushing a kiss on your cheek or forehead seems more his style for a first date.

Sanji: He's not a hard person to read. You always have his undivided attention, but you're not sure if he's genuniely interested in you or if he's just like this with every woman. Despite this, you push yourself to ask him out anyway. You've never heard someone shout 'yes' so quickly.

You decide to think outside the box:

botanical garden. Sanji seems like the type of person who can appreciate the beauty of nature. It'd provide you with a relaxing environment to help you get to know each other.

observatory. You'd bond over stories from your past while surrounded by the stars.

Both are fairly romantic but offer plenty of opportunities for pleasant conversations, getting to know each other, and a soothing atmosphere. You now feel more secure about his feelings towards you.

Of course, he'd love to cover you in kisses, but he'd let you decide how to end the date. He'd melt from just about anything you do, so there's not much pressure.

#one piece #op #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #zoro rorona #rorona zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x gn reader #x gn reader

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sasayego · 5 months

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lazy sundays

prompt — your fiancé, dick grayson, is the love of your life. was. you think he’s dead, but in reality, he’s out there as a spyral agent. meanwhile, you start appreciating the little things more.

tags — reader got out of an ED, mental health issues. angst and comfort, dick grayson x fem!reader. sfw

jason todd was the one who was attracted to you first. he saw you at a wayne gala and thought you were the love of his life. he asked you out, and you immediately said yes, intimidated by the fact that a wayne was the one who noticed you.

dick didn’t even notice you, which you didn’t mind too much. jason was all that you needed. he was kind and funny but he had this really annoying behavior where he would scream at you in fights. like, scream. one night, things got heated and he left into the night, leaving you behind to go outside, no doubt to clear his mind.

you decided to take care of yourself and make it up to him, so, you had finished his laundry. when putting his clothes away, you noticed a very red helmet with another suit with keys in them. you would’ve thought that it was a cute cosplay prop if the keys didn’t open up a drawer with all sorts of guns in the bottom drawer.

you would’ve freaked out if the radio next to his guns didn’t just go static with —“fuck—nightwing here—wounded on fifth—.” and your blood went cold. jason todd? knew who nightwing was?

you didn’t even think about it, think if it was a trap. you took the radio and drove where nightwing said he was injured. nobody responded and you were praying that he was alive.

and that was when dick grayson, really, really saw you. saw your perseverance, your stubborn nature and how you always looked to the brighter sides of things even when he was stabbed in several places with a split rib and a gash to his head.

you were not a doctor, god no, you were in the beginning of your master’s degree, but with strength that rivaled a mother whose child was underneath a car, you managed to pick him up and put him in your car.

“so jason told you who I am? the little shit. he was supposed to talk to bruce before he revealed our identities. that’s what I get for having a love struck brother, huh?”

you stopped halfway and then looked at him in shock, your mouth open in a slight ‘o’. and he realized that you didn’t know, that your boyfriend of seven months was hiding things from you.

“just take me to bruce’s. say you know, and say I need help.” you let out a groan at it and press on the gas.

jason wasn’t to be found for the next few days. dick was though.

when he recovered and appeared at your doorstep with flowers and a sheepish smile, a cast and a boyish smile that felt like infidelity, your face flushed and you took them happily.

“thanks for saving me,” he said, and leaned against the doorway. unlike jason, his mannerisms and way of acting came easy, smoother, a better flow. and you fell so bad just thinking that. “may I come in?”

and against your better judgment, you stepped side. “mi casa es tu casa.”

his eyes twinkled at that. “tu casa es muy hermosa,” he said. “como el tuyo.”

“you know spanish?”

“I know mandarin, spanish, french, romansh, german, portuguese, hindi, japanese, and arabic. well, learning. dami’s teaching me that one.”

your jaw drops. “I just know english, my mother tongue, and high school spanish.”

“still better than 90% of america.”

that was how it started—he met you every so often, taking coffee out, mini golfing, kayaking, while jason grew ever so distant in the corner. you couldn’t blame jason for it, either. it wasn’t like you were making much of an effort to revive the relationship.

but everything changed that one night when jason asked you to go to a wayne gala with him. out of all his siblings, he had chosen the short straw this time. you said no—you didn’t want to go to another one of them and get hounded by paparazzi at this point.

and jason was fine with that. it wasn’t like he particularly liked going to galas anyways, so he understood your denial. until an hour later when on instagram in one of the more popular news sites, a viral photo of you and dick hugging in the rain together and staring at each other after getting a hole in one in a really hard mini golfing course started circling around.

“what the fuck is wrong with you? are you fucking him? don’t even answer that, I can tell. and even if you aren’t, I know you want to.”

“no, jason, what the fuck is wrong with you? I haven’t done anything with dick, nor do I want to. we’re friends.”

“you don’t underhand, y/n. I’m gonna be the guy that the papers make fun of once you leave me for him. so I’ll do what you don’t have the guts to. we’re done.”

your world didn’t shatter because of that, surprisingly. he moved out of your apartment. you watched gilmore girls reruns. you ate a lot of food. some cried tears, but nothing much. until one day, dick appeared at your door out of the blue.

"dick?" you raised an eyebrow, looking at him with an unsure look in your eye. "what are you doing here?" you were wearing your sweats with a dumbed down look in your eye that clearly stated you didn't know what the hell was happening.

"i'm in love with you. i'm sorry—but i can't stop thinking about you. your laugh is infectious and when you smile it's like a cloudy sky just turns back to sunshine—"

you stepped forward and kissed him. you thought the tabloids were full of shit, but you knew that they were right about this one thing.

after two years of dating, he had done a vigilante trip to india to track down some passages. while he was there, he went and bought a shiny ring. you'd marry him with paper rings. he planned a view of a skyline and it went perfectly, thank god.

but he died. he died and now you're sitting here in the apartment, staring at a photo of the two of you. you miss everything about him. the way he'd subtly add more food to your plate when you were having your ED. when he held you throughout the night after a panic attack even though he had patrol that day. when. he defended you from the paparazzi, when he screamed at jason right back when jason found out that you and dick were dating.

don't tell me you're staring at that damned photo. - tim

you look at your phone and sigh before closing down your phone. tim wouldn't understand. he wouldn't get it. how could he? it wasn't like he lost the love of his life. he was a robin. he knew loss. you didn't. he also lost his brother, you remind yourself, and that just makes it all worse.

you grab the photo and curl up in a ball in fetal position. you miss lazy sunday afternoons when you've eaten too much and that food is resting in your stomach. your head would be in your fiancé's lap and his hands would be in your hair and the minute he would move his hands from your hair or your back, you'd wake up, your body discomforted by the lack of touch. that's my superpower, you'd joke.

no, he'd respond. your superpower is being the most amazing and talented woman i have ever had the pleasure of meeting. i would do anything for you. your beauty rivals the stars in the night sky. i love you like how the moon loves the earth.

at the single thought of it, you curl up and sob, the tears racking down as you clench the photos to your heart. five months and thirteen days and you are not a single second away from properly healing. you'll never love again. you know that for a fact.

it's ten in the night when you wake up, and the couch is stained with tears. haley is right beside you, looking sad and sullen. she misses her best friend too, but she always hates it when her other best friend is crying.

"i haven't fed you? fuck," you swear before standing up. everything hurts. your heart feels too heavy. there's cuts on your wrists. you stare at them, the red from the blood dried up.

he also stares at them too. he vows that he's coming back no matter what.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x you #hurt/comfort #richard grayson #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #dc comics

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undercoveravenger · 7 months

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Rising Tides

Pairing: Siren!Finnick Odair x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “Siren finnick odair trying to enchant the reader with his song and beautiful muscles but can’t get it. Take the story whatever direction you want”

A/N: Happy Spooky Month! This is post #2 of my Spooky Month writing event - #3 will be launching on Tuesday, October 17th. Hope you enjoy!

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Throughout Finnick’s years he’d seen the other sirens of his pod pick off humans with ease, using their stunning looks and alluring voices to draw their prey below the inky waves of the sea. The human’s mistake dooming them to be torn apart by the pod, sirens ripping and tearing the human apart until the wisps of blood in the water is all that remains of them.

He’d doubted he would have any issues when his turn for the Hunt arose- he’d grown up knowing he was beautiful, with fins and scales the same cool seafoam color as his eyes and hair that shone almost golden. He had learned how to be charming, to play coy, and to use his looks to draw people in. He hadn’t learned how to deal with someone like you.

Finnick had known you would be his prey as soon as he saw you, a sharp pain seizing in his chest when he saw you walking along the seaside edge of your district, picking at bits of seaglass and shells absently as you meandered along the sand. He’d been transfixed by the way the sinking sun made your skin glow, the soft look in your eyes as you looked out over the waves reminding him a bit of himself and his family.

He hadn’t been quick enough to sing for you that day, too distracted by you to remember how to string notes and words and melodies together before you wandered back up the beach and into town, but he had plenty of other chances. Apparently you were no stranger to the beach, making it a nightly habit to stroll down the sand, watching over the waves and examining the small treasures brought up by the current. Sometimes you were joined by one or two others, but Finnick could never really bring himself to pay them any mind, fixated on you the same way he always was.

He’d tried to sing for you on one of the evenings that you wandered the beach alone, voice echoing quietly over the low rush of the waves coming and going, smooth and soft and sultry just the way he’d been taught. Like he had expected, you perked up at the sound of his song, taking a thoughtless step closer to the waves lapping at the shore before seeming to snap yourself out of his spell, turning swiftly on your heel and making your way home with your hands clasped over your ears to block out his voice. For the first time, Finnick doubted himself. Was his voice not as alluring as he’d been told? What if you didn’t like his song? Was he not perfect enough to draw you in? Would his pod think him a failure?

His doubts gnawed at him further when you continued to flee from him when you heard his voice, and further still when he had laid himself out along a large rock protruding from the water so you could get a good look at the way the light gleamed off his muscles and still turned away from him.

He got lucky one day though, arriving at the shore just in time to see you set off in a small boat - something he’d heard you call a ‘kayak’- with several of your friends paddling off ahead of you in their own small crafts. He smiled a bit to himself as he heard a laugh escape you, slipping soundlessly back into the water and darting swiftly after you, tail propelling him effortlessly through the water in pursuit of his prey.

With your friends’ head start, it was pretty easy for him to separate you from them, waiting until they had rounded the edge of the bay before latching onto the small handle at the front of your kayak and tugging you further out to sea. You had scrambled to try to paddle back toward the bay and to your friends, but Finnick was stronger than you. He was faster. Built to cut through water without faltering. He was an apex predator.

Eventually Finnick deemed that he had you far enough from shore that you could no longer ignore him, releasing his hold on your tow line and moving to circle your boat, watching you curiously from just below the surface of the water. A laugh bubbled out of him at the way you twisted sharply in your boat to keep your eyes fixed on him and then having to scramble to right yourself when the sudden movement threatened to overbalance you.

He surfaced right beside the kayak, clawed hands gripping tight to the edge of the kayak, just beside your own. Finnick does his best not to put too much weight on the plastic vessel, knowing he could tip it easily and not wanting to scare you more than he already had. He wasn’t sure when his fixation on you had shifted from hunger to something so much softer but he didn’t want you to fear him. He didn’t want to hurt you, he just wanted- Well.

He just wanted you.

He opens his mouth and for a moment he is torn between singing and speaking to you. There is a split second when he thinks about how easy it’d be to tip you out of the boat, to drag you beneath the waves and present you to his family like he was supposed to. He thinks about it for longer than he should’ve, but he knows he can’t.

“Why do you keep running away?” He finally forces out, words twisted and strange on his tongue without the saccharine sweetness he’d been taught to use. “Why wouldn’t you look at me? Why did you leave when I called for you?”

You are visibly shocked by the way he looks at you and he knows it must seem strange, to see a predator like him begging at your side like a love-struck dolphin.

“Because you’re going to kill me,” you say simply, edging back in your kayak despite there not being far to go. “I’ve heard the stories about your kind. If I got too close-”

Finnick’s brows furrow as he looks up at you, “Was.” he says, releasing your boat in favor of swimming slow circles around you. “Not anymore.” He tips his head back, studying the way the clouds drifted in front of the sun.

“So you’re… not trying to kill me?” you ask cautiously, eyes not wavering from Finnick even as he started to preen at the attention.

Finnick laughs, tipping his head to look at you and flicking water at you with the fluke of his tail. “No, not anymore.” He dips under the water, reemerging on the other side of the kayak and propping his head up on the edge of it, studying you intently. “I should, if you listen to what my family says, but I don't want to. You’re… interesting."

He can tell you're really not sure what to make of that, but his heart jumps in his chest at the hesitant smile you give him in return.

"Swim with me?" The words escape Finnick before he can catch them, coming out breathy and desperate in a way he'd never expected to find himself sounding. He rushes to continue before he can consider the weight of what he'd asked you to do, the way he might brush against you or his tail might curl around your legs and the way he might get a look at you in something less… covering… than your usual clothes if you agreed to swim with him. "Maybe not now," he amends, eyes dropping sharply to where one of his pointed claws taps out a rhythm on the thin plastic of the kayak. "You don't trust me yet and I don't blame you. But maybe meet me tomorrow? Give me a chance?"

Finnick could see the way you jerk up straighter in your seat and your grip on your paddle shifts as you pick up on the sound of your friends calling for you. He's not sure if your answer is just an attempt to shoo him off in time to get back to your friends or to keep them from seeing him or just something you said without thinking, but the second that yes escapes you he's pushing himself up out of the water to press a sea-salty kiss to your cheek and promising to meet you at the beach at sunset the next day.

He dives then, submerging himself well below the waves and trailing slowly after you until he's sure you and your friends made it back to the beach and then watching for just a bit longer as you disappear out of view before beginning to meander back to the labyrinth of sea caves his pod calls home.

Sure, Finnick isn’t sure if you’ll actually show up, but for the first time in weeks, his confidence has been restored and his charm feels as secure as ever. He’s definitely going against his pod pursuing you like this, but with his luck rising with the tides, he can’t bring himself to care, not with someone like you at stake.

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trashpandato · 6 months

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Music

It’s a beautiful early fall day in National City. The sun is still warm, but it’s not as oppressively hot as a few weeks ago, and Kara can tell that the air is holding a bit more moisture these days. The leaves on the trees are turning yellow and red, and Lena’s fingers feel cold when they slip into Kara’s hand.

They’re out for a walk along the harbour after Kara insisted that Lena should get out of her office more on such a nice day. And Kara doesn’t want to boast, but when Lena tells her that this was a “wonderful idea” and squeezes her hand gratefully, Kara has to agree. She does have some really spectacular ideas sometimes.

The walkway near the water is busy that afternoon. There are young families, kids on the tiniest bicycles Kara has ever seen, and more than a few folks who’ve escaped the nearby office towers to drink their afternoon coffee outside.

It’s exactly what Kara and Lena are doing, too, sipping on their still hot lattes, when all of a sudden, Lena comes to an abrupt stop, staring toward a bench a little further ahead.

Lena’s body language and sudden change in demeanour sets off every single alarm bell for Kara.

“What? What’s going on?”

But Lena doesn’t respond. Instead, she lets go of Kara’s hand and walks toward the bench. Kara has to use a burst of extra speed to catch up to her.

She uses her senses to scan their surroundings but nothing seems suspicious to her. She can hear the squealing of a few kids behind them, snippets of conversations between people who are milling about, as well as the gentle humming coming from a woman on the bench that seems to be the focus of Lena’s attention. The woman is cradling an infant against her chest, clearly singing to her child, and Lena keeps her voice soft and low when she approaches her.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Lena says, and Kara can hear the tremors in her voice that indicate how important this interaction is to her. “I, um, I heard the melody you are humming, and I was wondering if you could tell me what song that is?”

The woman looks at Lena then. She’s maybe a little confused by this stranger’s question, but a small smile crosses her features.

“It’s called The Gartan Mother’s Lullaby. It’s her favourite,” she nods at her baby.

There’s a strong familiar lilt in the woman’s voice when she answers and Kara immediately knows she’s Irish.

“Thank you,” Lena whispers. “Sorry again for interrupting.”

The woman waves at them, as if to say that it’s not a problem, but Lena has already turned around and is walking back in the direction they came from.

Kara smiles apologetically at the woman before she bids her goodbye and runs after Lena.

They don’t speak for a few moments. Kara can see how affected Lena is, knows that offering something as small as holding her hand might be too much right now. So she simply walks next to her and tries to show Lena that she’s not alone.

Eventually, Lena slows down and steps towards the railing by the water. There are a couple of kayaks nearby, and a few ducks, but Kara only has eyes for Lena.

“My mom used to sing it to me,” Lena confesses, staring ahead. “I didn’t, I remember singing it to myself the first few weeks at the Luthor mansion. But I never knew all of the words. And over time, I forgot the melody, too.”

Kara doesn’t say anything, then. She knows the pain of fading memories, of forgetting the smells and sounds of home. But she moves a little closer to Lena and places her hand low on Lena’s back. When she feels Lena lean into the touch, she knows they’ll be okay.

Later that evening, when they’re curled up in bed and Lena is half asleep with her head on Kara’s chest, Kara starts humming the song. For a brief moment, Lena stiffens and Kara can tell she’s holding her breath, but then she relaxes into Kara’s embrace and lets her eyes drift shut as she listens to Kara’s attempt to remember the melody she hastily learned that afternoon. When Kara gets to the end, she feels Lena press the softest kiss against her neck.

“Thank you.”

Kara only holds her tighter in response.

#supercorp #kara x lena #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober

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khaire-traveler · 27 days

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🌊 Subtle Poseidon Worship 🐬

Picking up trash at a beach, lake, or river

Collecting ocean water or making salt water (please do not drink either)

Collect seashells, shark teeth, seaglass, and ocean-related fossils/precious gems

Have a candle that reminds you of him (no altar needed)

Keep a picture of him in your wallet

Wear jewelry that reminds you of him

Wear cologne with a musky or breezy scent

Learn about local fish and underwater species

Have a stuffed animal horse or dolphin; have a stuffed animal of any water creature

Try eating seaweed or fish (be careful with shellfish; many people are allergic!!!)

Have imagery of the ocean, sea dwelling creatures, tridents, or pegasi around

Support ocean-focused organizations

Learn to go more with the flow of things; practice grounding regularly

Fall asleep/meditate to ocean sounds

Sunbathe on a beach, if able

Go swimming/diving; learn to swim/dive

Practice standing up for yourself; assert your boundaries; you have power

Make a list of your personal strengths and things you're proud of

Own a fish (please research the fish first)

Visit an aquarium

Learn how to ride a horse; volunteer at local horse stables, if able

Take care of your mental health; learn to be patient and forgiving with yourself

Learn about constellations; learn how to navigate using the stars

Take a walk under the full moon (only if it is safe to do so in your area)

Drink water; stay hydrated

Take a self-care shower/bath

Use hydrating lotion on your skin; take good care of yourself physically

Focus on the personal power and strength you have; maybe meditate on this

Practice mindfulness

Try fishing

Learn how to sail, kayak, or paddleboard

Try to learn divination of water; rivers, the ocean, lakes, ponds, etc. all work

Draw in the sand; build sand castles; create colored sand art (best in a pretty vase, imo)

Stand in water; ground yourself around bodies of water; meditate standing in or near them

May add more to this later! This is my list of discreet ways to worship Poseidon. I hope this is helpful, and take care, y'all! 🩵

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

#poseidon deity #poseidon worship #helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #deity worship #paganblr #pagan tips

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joelalorian · 2 months

Text

Tides of Desire - Chapter Eleven: All at Sea

*mood board by the lovely @janaispunk. divider by the equally lovely @saradika-graphics

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI. Angst, cursing, overthinking. Poor Reader is having a week. Smallish age gap (reader is 32 or so, Joel is 40). No use of y/n, though reader is of British descent and has the nickname Brit (occasionally used). Chapter names are nautical phrases.

a/n: I know fuck all about concussion treatments or medical care in general. Also, everything I know about yachting I learned by watching Below Deck.

Series masterlist

“Tommy! What the fuck happened?” Joel’s thundering voice carried across the deck, causing Tommy to flinch before his shoulders hunched stiffly. He’d never seen his brother move so fast, covering the distance at lightning speed until he knelt at your side, one large, hesitant hand hovering over your unconscious form yet refusing to give in and touch you.

Struck silent at the expression on his brother’s face, Tommy stared between the two of you. He’d never seen Joel so distraught, love and regret shining in the man’s watery chocolate eyes. He looked on the verge of tears seeing you hurt and unable to do anything about it.

“What happened?” Joel asked again, voice quieter this time, yet no less distraught.

“She fell as we were moving the kayaks. It was an accident,” Jake explained before Tommy could, and Joel’s dark eyes snapped to the deckhand with a sharp glare before shifting back to you, then Tommy. An unspoken conversation happened between the brothers before Tommy turned to Jake.

“Jake, would you find Ellie and finish the evening duties? We’ll handle this.” Jake looked like he wanted to refuse the order, glancing between the captain and the bosun a few times before turning on his heel without response. Once he was clear of earshot, Tommy spoke plainly, one hand grasping Joel’s shoulder. “Listen, Joel. She’s been a wreck all week, distracted and completely unlike herself. This was clearly an accident, but it never would have happened if…”

Jaw clenching, Joel swallowed roughly. “I know. This is my fault.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying… ugh, I don’t know what I’m saying. I just know that things like this don’t happen to her, and I don’t like seeing her confused and hurt over something you did. Brit all but shut down this week because of you.” Tommy didn’t want to hurt his brother any more than necessary, but he needed him to see sense. Joel was just as much of a wreck as you were, he just had more opportunity to hide it tucked away on the bridge.

Wide, dark eyes once again focused on your unconscious form. You looked peaceful, like you could have been asleep, dreaming of happy things, not knocked out cold from a fall. This was all his damn fault. “I’ll fix it, sweetheart. I’ll make everything better,” Joel murmured, running his fingers over the smooth skin of your cheek. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, lips pursed.

“Is medical transport coming?” Tommy questioned, pulling Joel’s focus back to action.

“They’re going to meet us at port. A storm’s rolling in and they don’t want us to wait. Frank’s gonna take watch duty and they’ll guide him over the phone if there’s anything he needs to do,” Joel explained. He hesitated to leave your side, this being the closest he’d been to you since you were in his bed days ago – was it only days? It felt like weeks – but they needed to get a move on.

“Ok. Where do we want to –”

“We’ll put her in my quarters. I don’t want her too far away from me in case anything happens.”

“Are you…” Tommy wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that if you regained consciousness before they got to port, but he trailed off, not about to waste precious time arguing with his brother. They were short on time; he could see the dark skies moving in from a distance. And Joel’s determined expression told Tommy he would have lost the argument anyway.

Lifting you gently once he checked your neck, Joel supported your head against his shoulder and carried you, bridal style, to the bridge, avoiding the areas where the guests were, and through to his quarters. Placing you gently on the unmade bed like the precious thing you were, he kissed your forehead, lips brushing against your skin as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I promise, I will do anything to make this better, to make up for how poorly I treated you.”

As Joel was taking care of you and getting setup on the bridge, Tommy called over the radio for Sarah to join the deck crew. Being a woman down and in a hurry, he needed all hands on deck and, having grown up on yachts and learned from her father and uncle, Sarah was well versed in pulling anchor and docking. The deck crew worked quicky and thoroughly, getting the anchor up and securing the main decks.

The wind and waves picked up as they took off back to the island, anxiety spread through the crew knowing the real reason why they were rushing back to port. The storm was a bit of a blessing in disguise, giving the interior crew a good excuse to offer the guests for docking half a day early.

The routine journey seemed interminable to Joel, his mind half on steering the yacht safely back to port and the other half on you. He knew you were in good hands with Frank – that man adored you and knew how important you were to Joel; he would take the best care of you – yet Joel still worried. How could he not? You were hurt and things were a mess between you two. Anxiety bubbled in his gut, creating a tightness in his chest that he suspected would not go away until you were safe, and he was forgiven.

The docking was a mess weather-wise and sloppy in execution. Tommy barked out orders over the wind, but every single person on deck was preoccupied. Lines were tangled, spring lines weren’t tossed far enough, taking two or three tosses to get to the dock crew, and Joel nearly crashed into a damn piling. Worst docking ever, by far, but they finally made it, and the medics were waiting for you.

A hushed conversation took place on the bridge as the medics tended to you, securing your unconscious form to a stretcher.

“Are you sure? You’ve never, in the entire history of us working together, left the boat while charter guests remained on board,” Frank said, needing to clarify Joel’s insistence that he accompany you to the emergency room.

“I’m certain. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, Frank,” Joel insisted, gesturing emphatically, the ball of anxiety in his chest tightening at the mere thought of not being by your side. Big cow eyes pleaded with Frank to understand, to take point in Joel’s moment of need. He was so close to just abandoning ship otherwise. “Right now, that gorgeous, kind woman is more important to me than any of this and I need to show her that. I need to be there when she wakes up to prove that to her.”

Frank looked at him so softly then, like he’d seen a new side of the man he’d known nigh on twenty years. He understood the lengths a man in love would go to – especially a man like Joel – and he refused to be the one who stood in the way of that. “Go, quick!” Frank waved him toward the deck. “They’ll be wanting to get her to the hospital asap. I’ll keep everyone in line and check in for updates. Take care of her… and yourself.”

In a rare moment of outward emotion, Joel gave Frank a one-armed hug, chocolate eyes full of gratitude and lips curling upward as he left the bridge.

A pounding headache was the first thing that you noticed. The next was the pull of an IV in your arm when you shifted. The third, painfully bright fluorescent lights that only made the headache worse. Looking around in confusion, your eyes settled on medical monitoring equipment and blandly painted walls. You were in the hospital. Why?

Shifting again as you fought down any panic, a heavy weight pinned your free hand down. Eyes slowly moving around the room – you were a bit dizzy and vaguely nauseous – your gaze met a wild mop of dark, messy curls laying on your hand, and a large, warm hand gently grasping your wrist.

Joel.

Your heart skipped a beat as everything came back to you in pieces. The double date. The wonderful night spent together in his quarters. The passion. The morning after… Heart thumping wildly in your chest, you sucked in a deep breath to calm yourself and continued jogging your memory. The look on Joel’s face as he sent you away. The tears. The sadness. The internal fight to keep going, to just do your job rather than giving up and ending your season early. The bright light of joking around with Jake. The laughter while loading kayaks. Tripping, trying to catch yourself, then everything went black and now you were in a hospital room.

God, the pounding in your head hurt worse after thinking so hard. You kept shifting, trying to find a slightly more comfortable position to ease the ache, and the hand around your wrist flexed reassuringly. Your pulse soared when Joel lifted his head, large brown eyes blinking owlishly up at you, and the machine at your side started to beep loudly.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice rough from his nap. “Don’t wanna get your heartrate too high.”

You didn’t know what to say and just stared back at Joel, eyes taking in every move as he sat up and slipped his hand down your wrist to tangle his fingers with yours. He was here, at your side, holding your hand, gazing at you tenderly with concern in those beautiful eyes. It had to mean something, right? Right?

Lips parting, mouth parched yet needing to say something, anything. “What are you doing here?” That was the best you could come up with.

Joel’s brows pulled together, but a knock on the door interrupted before he could respond, and a doctor sauntered into the room.

“Ah, you’re awake! That is promising news.” The doctor – a balding, middle-aged man in a too-tight white coat – read your chart as the nurse accompanying him called out additional readings from the machine at your side. He hummed, noting down the new information, and placed the chart down on the counter along the wall. “Let me just check…”

The man trailed off, shining a light in your eyes to assess your pupillary response, then gestured for you to follow his finger with your eyes. He ran a few more tests of your reflexes and assessed the tenderness on your scalp where you hit your head. Satisfied, he put the penlight in his chest pocket and sat on a little rolling stool.

“So, you’ve had quite the day.”

“That’s one way to put it,” you grumbled.

“And I bet you have one helluva headache?”

You merely nodded, waiting for the doctor to get to the point.

“That’s to be expected. Nurse Chapin will give you a dose of pain medication in your IV for now.” The nurse moved to do exactly that as the doctor continued. “The knock to your head caused a concussion – grade three judging by the amount of time you were unconscious. But the good news is that the CT scans are favorable. The brain swelling is already going down. Any memory loss? Nausea? Changes in mood – increased irritability, moodiness, anger?”

“A little dizzy and very mildly nauseous. I’m mostly just tired and my head is fucking killing me.” Your brows scrunched together, eyes still squinting from the combination of the headache and the too bright lights. Joel couldn’t help the chuckle that burst from his chest, causing both you and the doctor to join in.

“I’ll take that laugh as a ‘no’ to increased irritability. The meds will kick in very shortly. Once they do, you’ll start to feel better, but you’ll likely be more tired than usual for a few days and will need to take it easy for a week or two,” the doctor explained. “I would recommend someone monitor you for at least the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours just in case there are any changes in your symptoms.”

Your eyes flashed to Joel, who was already watching you. His fingers squeezed yours ever so slightly, and you startled, having forgotten that you were holding hands. You could see in his eyes that he would not let you out of his sight. You weren’t sure how you felt about that yet, but you were too tired to argue about it.

Within a couple hours, you were discharged, and on your way back to the yacht with Joel. Neither of you spoke much, but as you suspected, Joel never strayed from your side, an arm or hand always wrapped around some part of you. Once you were in a car on the way back to the port, your head resting tenderly against Joel’s chest where it fell from sheer exhaustion, he finally spoke.

“I know this isn’t nearly enough, but I am sorry for my behavior, for how I treated you the other morning. I won’t disrespect you further by offering lame excuses. It was a piss poor reaction and I regret every single second of it. Most of all, I regret hurting you.”

You could feel the rumble of Joel’s voice mixed with the elevated beat of his heart against your face where it rested against his chest and hear the sincerity in his voice as it broke over certain words. His arm tightened around your shoulders, drawing you closer still until your entire being could tell how much he regrated his actions, his words, that entire dreadful morning.

Was it that easy, though? Were you ready to forgive and forget that quickly?

The medication had taken the sharp edge off the headache, but your mind was still a swirling mess. This was a conversation for when you were both clear-headed, you thought. But you appreciated his apology nonetheless.

You must have been silent too long because Joel started speaking again. “I don’t expect you to forgive me right now – or at all, really. I just… I just wanted you to know that I would take it all back and reset that morning, if I could.”

“Thank you, Joel, for the apology… and for being here for me even when things aren’t great between us. I want to forgive you, but I think… I think we should have a conversation when I feel more like myself,” you admitted, exhaustion lacing your voice.

Pressing his lips to the top of your head, Joel kissed your hair. “Of course, sweetheart. We’ll talk when you’re ready. In the meantime, let me take care of you. Let me show you that I’m worthy of your forgiveness if you find it in your heart to offer it to me.”

You murmured something intelligible, snuggling further into the warmth of his chest. Joel let you sleep the remainder of the ride and carried you on board like the precious cargo you were. It was well after midnight and the yacht was dimly lit and quiet, even the charter guests in their rooms asleep ahead of their departure later that morning. You remained out cold as he tucked you into his bed, slipping in beside you after a quick shower. You didn’t know it, but he held you close all night.

True to his word, Joel looked after you with great care. His bedside manner was impeccable, if he did say so himself. You were an easy patient though, sleeping through most of the next day, rousing only when he woke you periodically per doctor’s orders. He made certain you had plenty of liquids to stay hydrated, light food to nourish you, and pain reliever for the lingering headache.

The charter guests departed none the wiser and they left a good tip despite their time at sea being cut a little short. Their departure was the only time Joel left your side for more than five minutes and, upon his return, he set your portion of the tip aside for when you were awake for more than fifteen minutes.

There was a rare lull in the schedule with the next charter being a short three-day reservation, so the crew all had four days in a row off. Convenient timing, of course, and Joel was glad you’d have the extra time to recover without feeling guilty. Originally, he planned to have an activity for the crew to unwind, but no one seemed to want to do that without you. He wondered if you had any idea how loved and appreciated you were among the crew.

After thirty-six hours, your energy started making a return and Joel allowed some visitors to check on you. Sarah had been driving him up a wall demanding to know via text how you were doing every five minutes and she would not relent until she saw you with her own eyes. If it was at all weird for her to see you sitting up in her dad’s bed while he gazed at you all gooey-eyed, she didn’t say peep about it, for which Joel was grateful.

Of course, Ellie had plenty to say about it – more than enough to make up for everyone who didn’t – but you merely laughed knowing the younger woman found the entire situation entertaining rather than ‘gross’ as she insisted.

Mostly, Joel just spent a lot of time watching you like a sad puppy, worrying about you, and hoping that you’d forgive him. This time spent taking care of you made him realize, beyond a shadow of a doubt, how much he ached to keep doing so, in good times and bad. If you couldn’t forgive him, if he lost you for good after this, it would surely destroy him.

He could deny it no longer, to himself, you, or anyone else who wanted to know. He was head over fucking heels in love with you. He just hoped that you felt just as deeply about him as he did about you.

tbc

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel x female reader #yacht captain!joel miller #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #fanfic #fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller story #pedrostories #joel x f!reader

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