#to put my hands in the dirt and plant things

[headspace-hotel]

My random unsubstantiated hypothesis of the day: the popularity of "stim" videos, fidget toys, and other things like that is a warning sign that something's Deeply Wrong with our world.

Don't freak out. I am autistic. These things are not bad. However, can we just...take a second to notice how weird it is that there are entire social media accounts full of 10-second videos of things making crunching noises, people squishing slime in their hands, and objects clacking together, and that enjoying them is mainstream and normal?

It seems that nowadays, almost everyone exhibits sensory-seeking behavior, when just a decade ago, the idea of anyone having "sensory needs" was mostly obscure. It is a mainstream Thing to "crave" certain textures or repetitive sounds.

What's even weirder, is that it's not just that "stim" content is mainstream; the way everything on the internet is filmed seems to look more like "stim" content. TikToks frequently have a sensory-detail-oriented style that is highly unusual in older online content, honing in on the tactile, visual and auditory characteristics of whatever it's showing, whether that's an eye shadow palette or a cabin in a forest.

When an "influencer" markets their makeup brand, they film videos that almost...highlight that it's a physical substance that can be smudged and smeared around. Online models don't just wear clothes they're advertising, they run their hands over them and make the fabric swish and ripple.

I think this can be seen as a symptom of something wrong with the physical world we live in. I think that almost everyone is chronically understimulated.

Spending time alone in the forest has convinced me of this. The sensory world of a forest is not only much richer than any indoor environment, it is abundant with the sorts of sensations that people seem to "crave" chronically, and the more I've noticed and specifically focused on this, the more I've noticed that the "modern" human's surroundings are incredibly flat in what they offer to the senses.

First of all, forests are constantly permeated with a very soft wash of background noise that is now often absent in the indoor world. The sound of wind through trees has a physiological effect you can FEEL. It's always been a Thing that people are relaxed by white noise, which leads to us being put at ease by the ambient hum of air conditioning units, refrigerators and fans. But now, technology has become much more silent, and it's not at all out of place to hypothesize that environments without "ambient" white noise are detrimental to us.

Furthermore, a forest's ambience is full of rhythmic and melodic elements, whereas "indoor" sounds are often harsh, flat and irregular.

Secondly: the crunch. This is actually one of the most notably missing aspects of the indoor sensory world. Humans, when given access to crunchable things, will crunch them. And in a forest, crunchy things are everywhere. Bark, twigs and dry leaves have crisp and brittle qualities that only a few man-made objects have, and they are different with every type of plant and tree.

Most humans aren't in a lot of contact with things that are "destroyable" either, things you can toy with and tear to little bits in your hands. I think virtually everyone has restlessly torn up a scrap of paper or split a blade of grass with their thumbnail; it's a cliche. And since fidget toys in classrooms are becoming a subject of debate, I think it pays to remember that the vast majority of your ancestors learned everything they knew with a thousand "fidget toys" within arm's reach.

And there is of course mud, and clay, and dirt, and wet sand. I'm 100% serious, squishing mud and clay is vital to the human brain. Why do you think Play-Doh is such a staple elementary school toy. Why do you think mud is the universal cliche thing kids play in for fun. It's such a common "stim" category for a reason.

I could go on and on. It's insane how unstimulating most environments humans spend time in are. And this definitely contributes to ecological illiteracy, because people aren't prepared to comprehend how detailed the natural world is. There are dozens of species of fireflies in the United States, and thousands of species of moths. If you don't put herbicides on your lawn, there are likely at least 20 species of plant in a single square meter of it. I've counted at least 15 species of grass alone in my yard.

Would it be overreach to suggest that some vital perceptive abilities are just not fully developing in today's human? Like. I had to TEACH myself to be able, literally able, to perceive details of living things that were below a certain size, even though my eyes could detect those details, because I just wasn't accustomed to paying attention to things that small. I think something...happens when almost all the objects you interact with daily are human-made.

The people that think ADHD is caused by kids' brains being exposed to "too much stuff" by Electronic Devices...do not go outside, because spending a few minutes in a natural environment has more stimuli in it than a few hours of That Damn Phone.

A patch of tree bark the size of my phone's screen has more going on than my phone can display. When you start photographing lots of living organisms, you run into the strange and brain-shifting reality that your electronic device literally cannot create and store images big enough to show everything you, in real life, may notice about that organism.

#nature #thoughts #random #forest

[dante-mightdie]

My (poorly written) BlueCollaredSimon! thought for you:

Simon’s halfway through his shift when he realizes he’s forgotten his lunch. It’s no skin off his back, he’s gone hungry through a shift before and besides he’s a grown man and can handle it. Except you, his sweet little thing, pull up to deliver his lunch that you made him, adorned with a sweet note written you wrote by hand.

He sits in the dirt, head tilted back against a wall and doesn’t move when he hears a car pull up. People come and go so he doesn’t react much. But when he hears your sweet voice his eyes open immediately. You’re standing over by Price and Soap and asking for him, sweetly holding up his lunch box. But what really has his attention is your dress, so flowy and beautiful on you, the blue fabric compliments you so perfectly. It drives him insane.

It ignites a fire in his belly when he watches Soap take off his hard hat and place it on your head.

“What are you doing here?” He asks as he approaches.

“You left your lunch,” You say, so innocent and sweet as you hold out the worn out blue bag. He takes it in one hand. He lets out a quick ‘thanks’ before he’s ushering you back to your car. He shuts the door for you once your in and watches you drive off.

Later that day as your preparing dinner he sneaks in behind you and wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into your neck. You yelp and let out a harsh, ‘Jeez Simon you scared me!’ He can be pretty quiet for such a big guy.

“‘M sorry love, didn’t mean to scare ya,” He says softly, brushing your hair off your neck with a dirty hand, “Thank you for bringing my lunch, love. So sweet to me, more than I deserve. Always taking care of me, hm?”

“Always,” you say sweetly as you reach back to set one hand on his stubbly cheek. “But you were quite rude to me.”

“How so?” He grunts.

“You ushered me off like you didn’t want me there. You didn’t even give me a proper thank you,” You whine, “no goodbye kiss either.”

“‘M sorry, love. But you are right, I don’t want you there, ever. You are mine darling. Mine to look at, to touch, to take care of. If you need a hard hat you take mine you hear?”

“Jealous, jealous, jealous,” You tease as you stir the pot on the stove. “All this fuss over a hard hat.”

“‘S the principle of it, love,” He huffs.

You sigh and turn to face him, cupping his dirty cheeks. “Simon Riley, quit your fussing,” you say with a soft smile, “I’m all yours love, ok? I don’t want John or his stupid hard hat. Now, go clean up, dinner’s almost ready.”

what do you expect when you show up to his worksite in the pretty dress that he bought you with the money that he earned >:(

letting soap shamelessly check you out, smiling at him sweetly whilst he pants like a dog in heat

and then you let him put his hard hat on you and you giggled. you’ve never once shown interest in wearing simons hat.

so obviously he sulks for the rest of the day, feeling a little sorry for himself when he drags his feet into the kitchen where you’re making dinner

needs all your attention for the next few days and next time you go to his site, he keeps a hand planted on your ass and tells you to stay for his lunch break so you can sit in his lap and feed him <3

#mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #bluecollar!simon

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

Hi, can you do a Percy x daughter of persephone headcannons pls

⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of persephone! reader hc

content: percy jackson x daughter of persephone! reader hc warning: painfully hozier coded...that's it author's note: this one was also fun!! i kinda dove head first into looking at what being a demigod and a child of presephone meant, so the percy love thing kinda got lost but i hope i recovered it??? i still love this one tho!!

oh, daughter of presephone?! did you mean nico's step sister?? i think that's what you meant

he's protective and for what?? bro youre younger, stfu and walk away fr (we like to joke here, nico knows i love him)

tho the last sister percy had been put in charge of didn't end so well...so you can see where the protectiveness comes from.

i would like to formally apologize for that last one-

on a real note tho that's something that keeps percy up at night

he doesn't want to fail you, doesn't want to put you in any situation where your life is at risk, if you so much as get a scratch he's tearing everything down brick by brick

you're his precious flower girl

and he's willing to kill for you if it means you're safe

it also doesn't help that you really are lacking in the powers domain

you're like a diluted child of demeter (hey, gram-gram) with a minor affinity for graveyards.

that might be where the overprotectiveness comes from, this interpretation of weakness.

they're dead wrong, btw

you could topple cities, if you weren't such a diplomat

during the fall and winter, you make frequent visits with nico to the underworld, helping your mother keep her garden up and your step father with the diplomacy that comes with the underworld.

during the spring and summer, you're not allowed to go, as your mother isn't present. both hades and nico think this rule is stupid, but can't really fight it.

hades really do be losing his wifey and his beloved princess of daughter all at once. damn major L for his ass

anyways, we've lost the plot, back to percy

on the first date, percy made the mistake of getting flowers

typically, this wouldn't be a problem, any girl would kill to receive flowers

but the moment you opened your door and revealed percy with his bundle of flowers, tears began to pool in your eyes and you took them from his hand with a minor glare

"you killed them! they were living just fine and equally as beautiful but then you stomped up with your shears and you cut their heads off!" you cried, walking deep into your cabin and producing a plant pot from some closet, freeing the flowers from the butcher paper and shoving them into the dirt.

"w-what?" percy sputtered, following after you, slightly concerned that he might have completely fumbled this whole thing.

"you're lucky, jackson, that my momma isn't here or she'd have your ass. just picking flowers left and right," the girl continued to grumble before shoving her hands into the dirt with the flowers.

nothing happened for a moment then more sprouts grew in the pot, flowers beginning to grow to match the flowers that percy had brought for her.

percy just stared, not shocked, by trying to figure out how to recover from this massive mistake.

don't worry, he won you over

and, he never bought you flowers again, rather opting to bring you potted plants and seeds

he learned his lesson alright.

nico wasn't exactly the biggest fan of this relationship in the beginning but he knew there wasn't really much he could do.

plus, he could see how happy percy made you, the flowers in your cabin growing faster and bigger and more vibrant.

if anyone made his sister that happy, he'd allow them to stay around for just a bit longer.

on quests with you, percy always carried fruit, which you probably loved more than him

"we should probably stop soon, get something to eat," you'd say with a shrug

"okay, cool. so, i've got oranges, apples, that weird pink one that's white and black on the inside and pomegranates. you want something else?? i'm sure there's a store around here somewhere," he'd reply instantly, somehow managing to pull all of these fruit from the pocket of his hoodie and holding them out to her.

tbh every winter and fall when you aren't around, bro gets mopey

he misses his blossom and it doesn't help that all the plants are matching his mood

he'd rather be six feet under and shaking hands with your step father than anywhere that you aren't.

author's note cont. : another day, another hc collection bc i am a menace and cannot be stopped wahahahahahaha god i love writing this is so much fun!!

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #percy jackson #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson x reader #percy pjo #nico di angelo

[xxblairexxss]

Duty (part 2)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x pregnant!reader

Theme : Angst / fluff

Word count : 3.7k (The last time I checked before proofread!)

Thank you so much for the amount of loves on the first part! I wasn’t expecting that at all. Oh, and since I got a lot of expectations for the second part, it might comes out as a disappointment if you were expecting a lot. I had to end it in two parts. 😔

Warnings, mentions of throwing up, slight description of childbirth and inaccurate infos on childbirth (I tried)

Requested!

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flash

“I hate this!”

“Woah, princess.” He moved his head away, hands high up as you threw your snickers as it hit the dashboard and made a thud sound. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to wear them but tying the shoelaces is so hard. I can’t even reach my legs.”

Charles didn’t say anything when he left the car and walked to the shotgun side. You looked at him in question as he opened the door and kneeled down, his arm extended as he was expecting something from you while you kept on looking at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping my wife to tie her shoelaces? Give me that.”

You turned towards him and was going to bend to get the sneakers when he grabbed it instead after seeing how difficult it was for you. “You know you can always ask me to do these things for you, right?” He placed your feet on his knee and brushed off the dirt on your sole before he put the socks on.

“I know, but my feet are swollen and ugly. I don’t want you to see them. Charles, that tickles!” You shrieked with giggles when he tickled on your other foot.

“That’s what you get if you say anything silly.” He giggled along seeing how you still couldn’t stop laughing.

“I nearly kick you in the the face! Don’t do that again!” You leaned closer to hold his face and pecked on his lips. “But my feet are so ugly, honey. Look.” Charles tickled on your foot again and you tried to retract your feet away which caused it to bump against his face.

“Ow! Did you just kick me?” He fell on his bottom and covered his face with his hand.

“I told you to never do that again!”

“I told you to never say anything silly, didn’t I? He pulled his hand away and you bursted out laughing. “What?” You didn’t reply and chortled again when you looked at him. “Y/N, what?” He asked, confused yet still finding himself slowly laughing along with you.

“Your cheek is red. I’m sorry.” You moved your upper body closer to stroke on his now, blushed cheek.

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m just gonna go around and tell everyone that my pregnant wife kicked me in the face.” He went back to put the sneaker on your other foot. “It kinda hurts though. Since when did you get so strong.”

“You asked for it! Are you saying I’m fat?”

“There you go twisting my words again. I never say that.” He gave one last twist and pull on your shoelaces. “All done. Easier to ask for help from your husband than to throw the sneakers around, right?” He stood straight then helped you to get off the car.

“I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t going to throw it towards the dashboard.”

He then tilted your chin up and planted a kiss on your forehead. “No one’s talking about the dashboard, honey. I’m saying that you should let me know if you needed my help. It’s my duty, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry, and I’m sorry about the kick.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m used to it. Let’s go and get the things you are craving for.” He grabbed your hand and started walking away from the car.

“What do you mean you are used to it? The help or the kick? I have never kicked you before!”

“You did!”

“Did I?”

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“What is going on?” Joris strode to the engineer that he had asked to pass the message forcefully pulled him by his shoulder. “Did you actually tell them?”

“I did! I told them exactly what you told me.”

“Then why isn’t he coming back to the garage?”

“Maybe he just wanted to finish the race first. He’s leading it.”

“No,” Joris shook his head the second he heard what the engineer said. Ever since Charles got married to you, his career had fallen into second place in his priority list. He saw how his friend went from never missed a tennis day to only join the casual tennis match twice a month as he had to accompany you to your hair or facial appointment so he could be the first one to compliment you on your new hair or nails. He saw how Charles used to stay and got drunk at any parties to the point he couldn’t stand up to having to call it an early night because he didn’t want you to go to sleep alone. “No, that doesn’t make any sense. That man is willing to retire for his wife. They are not telling him!” Joris cried in frustration and was about to take control of the matter himself by walking to the pit lane but he was stopped by the engineer again.

“You can’t go there.”

“I need to tell him!” He tried to walk away but was held by even more people this time.

“We can’t risk any penalty point.“

“How can you be so heartless. His pregnant wife is in the emergency room!” He stared at the men in front of him in disbelief.

“I told you I’ve told them to pass the message and he’s still not coming back into the pit lane. He just wants to finish the race. Which part of it don’t you understand?” Joris saw the look the engineers were looking at him as if he was mad for being this way.

“You don’t get it. They are not telling him because if they did, he would have been here by now. Please, just let me pass the message.”

“We did what we can, you need to wait here until the end of the race or leave the garage.”

There’s still 51 laps to go.

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“Her water has broken and we suspect it might have been more than 24 hours since then.”

“That’s impossible. She would have known if her water was broken.” Your mom shook her head in denial as the OBGYN informed her about your condition.

“She might not have realised about it. We had to induce her labor as she was showing symptoms of infection and we can’t risk it. Can you ask for her husband come as we might need to proceed with the delivery soon.” The OBGYN dismissed herself and left the two mothers alone.

Fishing her phone out, Pascale clicked on a contact number that was right at the very top of her recents.

“Hel– “

“Bring my son here right now.”

“I’m trying! I can’t do anything else or they’ll kick me out of the garage.”

Pascale was so close to scream. She should have known something was wrong that stopped her son from coming to the hospital when she knew Charles barely left you alone during your whole pregnancy, there was no way he would leave you alone when you were in labor. “How much longer will the race be?”

“It should end in an hour. I’ll get him as soon as he get off the car.”

“Please bring him here as soon as you can.”

Joris felt like all of his blood was drawn out of his body when he heard the tone of Pascale’s voice and knew you weren’t doing well. Not only he had to tell Charles about you being taken to the emergency room, he had to tell him about your condition too and he didn’t think there would be any husbands in this world who could take the news well.

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It was around 20 laps after when he finally entered the pit lane but it wasn’t him alone. The rest of the grid were asked to do so as there was a red flag that had been put out. Joris was walking past the engineers so he could maybe, got Charles’s attention when they held him again before he could take any steps.

“You can’t go there.”

“The red flag is 25 minutes long. I can’t wait any longer.” He pushed away the engineer but felt another grip on his arms from the back, forcing him back. “Are you guys seriously doing this?”

“He is in the car right now as our driver and we are treating him as one. Please leave the garage.”

“He won’t be your driver anymore if he knew what you did to him. Don’t touch me. I can walk myself out.” He heaved a sigh and stormed out of the garage.

“What’s happening in the garage?” Charles spoke, he was lining up on the pit lane behind every other cars, waiting for the red flag to end but his car happened to be near his own garage where he saw the whole commotion and a group of people formed up together.

“Nothing, Charles. It’s none of your concern.”

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“And there goes the checkered flag! Thrice in a row! Charles Leclerc is the winner for the Monaco Grand Prix!”

“That’s P1. Well done, mate. Thank you for giving the race victory for us today.”

“Well done, Charles. You did a good job.”

“Well done, guys! It was tough race but great job for the race and for the weekend. Let’s hope we can keep the consistency.”

He was screaming into the radio team to the point he could barely hear what his engineers were saying. He had been dreaming to get the podium in his country even since he joined Formula 1. It felt like he had finally accomplished the last final tick in his wish list. Soon as he crossed the finish line, he saw a glimpse of your smiling face, jumping around as you congratulated him and he was so eager to see you, and to stood on the podium, making his country proud.

“Charles, we have an interview and a press conference in 5 minutes– “ His assistant’s steps went faster when he realised that the driver was heading to the other way after the whole podium moment.

“Can I see my wife first?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s better for you to get these done first.”

Charles still continued his way to meet you while bumping into a few people in the paddock lane who congratulated him with the assistant still chasing after.

“Charles, we really need to– “

“Let me see my wife first. Just one minute. I’ll make it quick.” He gave his assistant a smile before leaving to get to you.

“Charles,”

Still ignoring the assistant, he went inside the hospitality with the assistant trailing behind him to keep his schedule in check. “Where is she?” He looked back at the assistant when you were not in the lounge area. “Where’s Y/N?”

“Your interview–“

“Answer the damn question! Where’s my wife?” He wasn’t looking for you in the paddock at all as he knew you would be in the hospitality so he was expecting to see you in the lounge area where he left you but you weren’t there. Not even Joris.

“She was taken to the hospital earlier.” The assistant’s voice trailed off when Charles’s gaze on him went darker.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t know. I heard the guys said they already informe– “

“How long has it been since she was taken to the hospital?” He had rolled down the zipper on his race suit, and get his arms out from the sleeves, leaving him in his fireproof suit though it still made him hard to breath. He didn’t even know how to act or what to say. It was too much to take at one time.

“More than an hour ago.”

“What? You should– “ He breathed in. “You should have told me about that. How could you do this to me.” He was going to head out but he was pushed back on the shoulder.

“You still have things to do. We are still not done for the day.”

“I have to get to my wife. If something happened to her, it’s on you.” He glared back and pushed the grip of the hand on his shoulder rather too rough and headed out, bumping into Joris who was sweating and out of breath.

“Charles! Oh, thank God. I was looking for you after the podium like crazy. Hospital. Now. Y/N is not doing well.”

He knew something was wrong with you. If only he had listened to his gut feeling. The fact that he was kept in the dark for more than an hour when God knows what could and might have happened to you during the period of his absence.

Charles had left with Joris as his hands were too shaky he could barely held the steering wheel so Joris had to be the driver. He tried to call his parent but none of the calls were picked up. “What happened to her?”

“She fainted. They refused to tell you what happened and I got kicked out of the garage for causing a ruckus, they said.”

“That was what actually happened in the garage..how did I miss that.” Charles’s voice trailed off as he buried his face in his hands. He didn’t say anything else after. The rest of the whole ride to the hospital, he was quite. He just needed to see you right now before he lost himself to every negative thoughts that had been filling his head.

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flash

“Honey, are you okay?”

You had woken up to the sound of your husband throwing up and groaning in pain and you knew where to find him when he wasn’t in bed. He had been feeling sick these past few weeks and it happened every morning or when both of you were cuddled up together. You had forced him to see a doctor so you thought he would feel better by now. When you peeked inside the bathroom, you saw him leaning against the wall and face scrunched up in pain.

“Oh my god, are you still sick? Didn’t you go to the doctor yesterday?”

“Yeah, I did and they said it might have something to do with your pregnancy because they checked everything and I’m supposed to be fine. Apparently none of the medications are gonna work until we have our baby.” He washed his face and you walked to his side to rub on his back.

“Are you having morning sickness?” You giggled while he was still leaning against the counter, completely didn’t find the situation funny.

“Not too close, baby. I don’t think I can stand the smell of your perfume.” He moved away and out of the bathroom and you giggled again as you chased after him.

“But it’s the perfume you bought for me! I just want to hug my husband.” You whined.

“I love you so much, Y/N, like so, so much but please step back. I feel it coming again.” He moved away and groaned. “Stop it, honey. I’m serious.“ He made a gagging noise and turned away.

You chuckled and decided to stop teasing him by standing on the other side of the bed. “Why is it so bad though?”

“I really don’t need those questions now, Y/N.” He heaved a sigh of defeat and your eyes trailed on him as he scurried back to the toilet.

The morning sickness went on for a couple of months to the point he had to take some painkillers during race weekends while you didn’t feel anything at all. Thankfully it stopped after your second trimester.

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Soon as Charles barged inside the room, he saw you were laying on your back with a few medical staffs inside the room prepping things up. Your face contorted in pain and you were sobbing. “Y/N,” He called out as he made his way to you. His heart pounded when he saw you had an oxygen mask on, the back of your palm was hooked to IV. You were squirming on the bed, unable to sit still on the bed.

“Charles!” You pulled the oxygen mask away and stretched out your arms, waiting to feel the warmth of his body against yours. You felt your tears gushing down even more when he engulfed you in the tightest, most comforting hug as you cling on him. “I’m scared…I can’t do this.”

He left a few lingering kisses on your crown while your arms still wrapped around his neck, refused to let go as you felt him pulling away. “No– no, please don’t leave me. Please, I can’t–“

“I’m not, baby. I’m not. See? I’m right here. I promise I’m not gonna go anywhere else.” He pulled your arms away and held it tightly in his as he stared at you reassuringly. He knew you weren’t listening to the midwife when they repetitively asked you to breathe so he had to break the hug even when you refused to. “Baby, I need you to breathe, okay. I’m right here. Just follow along my breathing. That’s it, that’s it, baby.” He saw you slowly went back to control your emotions and brushed his lips on your damp forehead. “You are so, so strong.”

The whole pushing process was a nightmare. You had been pushing for hours and though you knew your body was moving on the motherly instinct alone, the endless pushing made you started feeling nauseous and light headed. “I can’t do this. Charles, it hurts so bad.” You bawled and whimpered in pain as you pulled Charles closer to bury your face on his neck.

“You are doing so great, love. Just a few more pushes, alright? I can see her head already.”

“It hurts! I can’t do this. Ow! It hurts so bad!” You collapsed back and grunted with the end of the contraction as the head felt like it was tearing you apart.

Charles rubbed on your inner thigh and kissed your shaking knee. “I know, baby. I know. You are almost there. I promise.” He wiped your tears with his thumb and left his lips lingering on your forehead. “You are so, so close. Just a little bit more.”

You pushed again once your midwife had checked for the cord. It was Charles’s first time to see you in this so much pain. Your face was red and your legs were shaking with all the pushing.

“That’s it, that’s it! One more push and she’ll be here. You are doing amazing, baby.”

“I can’t do it…please… I can’t. Charles, I can’t.” You shook your head with tears streaming down your face and you wanted to close your legs shut when the midwife quickly tried to hold it as Charles immediately squeezed on your thigh.

“You can. Y/N, listen. Hey–“ He cupped on your cheek so you would look at him. He had to be strong so that you knew you could rely on him but seeing your broken facade was something that he wasn’t prepared for. “Baby, listen to me. You can. She’s nearly here. One more push, honey, I promise.”

You gave one massive push and gasped loudly when you heard your little girl wailed. “You did it, Y/N. She’s here.” Charles exclaimed as the midwife lifted your newborn and placed it on your chest. You were still out of breathe when you gently wrapped your arms around the newborn with Charles’s hand under her for a support.

“She’s finally here, Charles. Oh my god, our baby girl is here.” You leaned in and kissed your daughter’s forehead.

“You were amazing, honey. She’s so beautiful, isn’t she? I love you so much, Y/N.” Charles planted a kiss on your crown and stroked on your hair, feeling himself blessed with the little moments.

After the whole labor process ended, he was offered to cut the cord and gave his little one the first bath while you were given some time to rest where you could fall asleep almost instantly, still feeling drained and sore but you did get a glance of your husband’s back giving his newborn a bath, seeing his arms slightly shaking with the help of the nurses. He had hold a newborn baby from one of his close friend’s before but definitely wasn’t prepared to hold his own daughter and it was very obvious to everyone in the room, including you. It was a heartwarming moment for you though.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You woke up feeling something warm on your cheek and opened your eyes to see your husband’s head on the little space on your bed, his forehead against his arm while his other hand on your cheek. He looked like he had fallen asleep and you found yourself beaming at the sight. When you placed your hand on top of his, you felt him stirred a little as you stroke on his knuckles. He was no longer in his Ferrari’s shirt, his hair looking a little unkempt when he lifted his head, face got a little sullen when the bright light hit on his face.

“Morning.” You poked on his cheek.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep, baby. Do you need anything?” He rubbed on his eyes and sat up straight to stretch out his arms.

“Can you get me some water?”

“Of course, love.” He then stood up to pour you a glass of water, slowly pulled on your stretched arms so you could sit up a little as he inclined the bed.

Charles was looking, more like staring at you the whole time, as if he had something to ask or to say so you scooted aside and held out your arm, leadinh him to sit by your side when he took your hand in yours. “What is it?”

You the saw the way he got confused with your question so you had to ask again, this time more elaborated. “You look like you have something to ask me?”

He was quite for a few moment before finally he gave you a reply you was waiting for. “Why didn’t you tell me you had been feeling pain, Y/N?”

“I didn’t want you to do anything silly before the– oh, did you win the race?”

“I did, honey. I think I did? There were so much things happened after my podium I think part of the memories were deleted.” He chuckled and carefully wrapped his arms around waist to pull you close so you could lean against him.

“Well, congratulations, baby! I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

He only hummed in response, his cheek tilted to rest it on your head. “They didn’t tell me.” His voice is full of disappointment.

“Didn’t tell you what, love?”

“I asked them to let me know if anything happened to you but they didn’t.” He left a lingering kisses on your hair. “I could have been here with you more early.”

“Don’t beat yourself too hard, Charles. It’s fine. You excelled both your duty as a husband and as a F1 driver today. You were a great help. I would have given up if you weren’t there.” You leaned in to peck on his cheek and heard your newborn started wheezing. “Oh, is she awake?”

“Can’t have my moment with you even for a short time now, can I?” He left your side to slowly pick his little girl from the bassinet and claimed his seat back by your side.

“Aw, she looks like her daddy! She’s so adorable.” You slightly pulled the the garments that swaddled her and leaned against his arm. “She’s my little gift to you since you won the first podium in Monaco today, honey.”

“Will I get the same gift every year?” He squirmed a little when you pinched on his arm, making him winced in pain. “Ow, that hurts! I’m gonna start having bruises on my arm if you don’t stop doing that, honey– oh, bless you!” His attention shifted to the little one when she sneezed, melting his heart with the cuteness. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for making me a father.”

“I love you.”

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj

✧.* tag list for p.2! @lunamelona @allywthsr @1655-1485 @boiohboii @viiduxjcivovoccy @boherahpsody @blueflorals @leclerc16s @lilians17 @roseseraj @sltwins @freetimemachinequeen

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! 😭 Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fluff

[tired-biscuit]

fem!reader // age gap; bakugou is in his early 30s, reader is in her 20s.

bakugou gives me “get off my lawn!” vibes.

i imagine him gardening in front of his new home in a quiet little neighbourhood that he’s moved into after a particular scandal — the idea recommended as a solution to easing his temper in one of his anger management classes that his friends had somehow managed to convince him to go to — when his wrath comes face to face with you for the very first time.

he’s kneeling in front of the little garden that’s situated underneath his living room window as he digs his hands into the soil, no gloves, and with dirt pushing underneath his fingernails so deep that he’ll only be able to scrub it out when he finally heads inside to take a shower later.

so, he’s tending to the small patch of soil. with his brow furrowed and his teeth repeatedly sinking into the inside of his cheek, the temporarily-retired pro hero is visibly trying so hard to not crumple the flowers that he’s spent ages fighting to keep alive in their little pots ever since the day his stupid therapist had instructed him to buy the seeds, put them on the windowsill, take care of them, and watch them grow just like the calmness and the ‘zen’ in him is supposed to, or whatever the fuck.

and sure enough, the little fuckers actually grew. they grew so big actually, that he now has to complete yet another pesky task, consisting of finding them a new spot where they can fully flourish before they can get the chance to overtake his entire window, bed, room, even him, perhaps.

grumbling under his breath, the raging blond feels somewhat proud as he stares at his little creations. i mean, who knew he had it in him? a proper green thumb; attached to the explosive, otherwise oftentimes murderous palm of katsuki fucking bakugou!

and speaking of murderous: the look on katsuki’s face is a near perfect example of the word as he goes to place the first plant into the little hole that he’s just finished digging up. with his crimson eyes dangerously narrowed, he watches intently how the petals bend, as well as the leaves, whilst he picks up the poor flower and starts transfering it from pot to soil.

luckily, neither break or tear under his thick fingers. he’s being gentle and delicate for a change — adjectives people would never describe him with at first glance, nor after getting to know him a little bit better. no, he’s a grump through and through, and the focus in his head is so high now, in fact, that it even causes a wrinkle to etch itself deep into the middle of his forehead, accentuating the previous statement even further.

but that grump in him really manages to shine through the moment a football suddenly appears out of nowhere and knocks over one of the pots he’s brought outside only minutes prior.

tink! — a thin little crack appears on one side of the pot, now. bakugou, holding his breath without even realizing it, watches as it spreads through the glazed ceramic. the flower lays limply on the concrete step beside the garden that it’s just been knocked into. it had been his favourite one of the plants, the petals were so pretty and in a gorgeous shade of orange, but he can’t dwell on it; not when the crack is still spreading.

it’s spreading, spreading, spreading. just like the anger that bubbles within him.

tink, tink, crack! — the pot is chipped. a little piece of it crumbles off and falls onto the step.

oh, no. it’s ruined. it’s all ruined and the perfectionist in him is screaming.

and fuck, red fury swoops upon bakugou’s mind like a hawk at that. it’s such a small thing, a mere accident, but he just can’t help it; life’s been hard as of late. with his jaw clenched and all anger management lessons forgotten, he grabs the football and tightens his hold around it with both hands until he can feel the sparks dancing on his palms. until he can feel the warmth start to radiate from them.

the heat makes the synthetic leather hiss. it tingles, from his hands, all over his body. he hasn’t indulged in his quirk in such a long time. it feels good, even if the emotions that now plague and storm his outraged mind are awfully bitter.

and as for rage…

“are you fucking kidding me?!” his voice booms through the air as he pushes up to his full height in one swift, scary movement. “you stupid, brainless brats; how many fuckin’ times have i told you not to play he—”

it’s not often that katsuki stops in his tracks mid-sentence — especially in the midst of such a venomous one, at that — but the moment he whirls around and lays his eyes on you, deadly silence falls.

i mean, how can he not turn quiet? jesus on a cross, there’s a girl standing in front of him now, instead of a kid or an old lady. an actual girl, and she’s fucking gorgeous.

dressed in comfortable shorts, a cute crop top that shows just a sliver of your stomach, and colourful, almost childish flip-flops, your skin looks like it’d be warm to the touch if he were to stroke it. the sunshine that blazes above you on this hot summer’s day, causes sweat to glimmer in a layer so thin on your forehead. it makes the little hairs that frame your pretty face curl because of the way they’re turning damp with salt. makes the side of your neck have a certain sheen to it as well.

bakugou’s head cocks to the side as he assesses you further. sure, it’s hot out, however the heat doesn’t seem to be the main reason as to why you look so appealingly disheveled. after all, you’re inhaling and exhaling fast, and your shoulders are rising and falling even quicker as you seem to be trying to catch your breath.

did you run all the way over here?

“sorry… hi! lemme just… ah… catch my breath for a quick second… gosh.” he blinks at the sound of your voice as you raise your hand in apology before resting both of them onto your knees and bending over at the middle. your demeanor almost seems sheepish when you look up at him from underneath your lashes, still trying to ease your breathing. “i’m so, so, so sorry for your flowers, mister dynamight, sir…! my little brother kicked the football way too hard as we were playing a game he made up, so i just… i, uh, i ran over here to apologize on his behalf, and to… get the ball back.”

katsuki quirks a brow as he lets his gaze fall to the football he still holds in his hands, and for which you’re so clearly asking to get back, now. he knows the kid who you’re referring to as your brother — an especially irritating little menace that’s been sucking his blood through a goddamn straw, with all the pranks he and the group of brats he calls his friends have been initiating on his property as of late.

and sure enough, when he looks over your shoulder, the little shit is nowhere to be found.

the thought of the kid continuously stepping on his nerves for the last few weeks angers him in a flash, making his grip on the football tighten and start to smoulder; it makes smoke spiral in thin lines underneath his fingertips. though, when he lifts his gaze and lets his eyes land on you again — on that stupidly pretty, sweaty face of yours — bakugou surprisingly feels that white-hot rage somewhat disippating bit by bit.

hand to heart, he’s intrigued by you. you don’t seem to mind being in his presence, despite the fact that you seem to know fully well who exactly he is. and if you know that, then you’re surely familiar with the rumours and gossip that never cease to follow a big name like his. as well as the public announcement, talking about his — forced — temporary retirement from the hero business, because of the consistently violent outbursts he had failed to tame over the years.

for fuck’s sake, the dynamight is your neighbour, and you seem to be outright unbothered by it. it’s peculiar as fuck.

and it’s also the reason why the only thing he grunts out now, is, “you’re new.”

“i’m sorry?” that surprises you. your brief confusion is evident in the way you straighten, as well as how your own head lightly tilts so that you can look at him properly for the first time ever since you’ve stepped foot on the patch of land he should be calling home.

“you’re new,” he repeats simply, jerking his chin towards your direction and pointing the football at you. “i haven’t seen ya ‘round here before.”

“oh—ohh…” there it is; a wonderful smile appears on your otherwise pouty lips as you smack your forehead in realization. “yeah; that totally makes sense! i came back home just a couple of days ago to spend summer break with my family, so that’s probably why you haven’t seen me around yet.”

summer break. so you must be still in college? it’s not odd that you’re still a student, with a tight body like that, clothes so revealing and scarce, and a face that just screams youth, youth, youth. adding it all together, bakugou catches himself feeling not all that thrown off by the fact that you’re in school, pursuing a degree.

at least you have a goal in life. unlike him, and his stupid gardening.

nevertheless, he gives you a curt nod and tries to tame the flutter of a muscle in his cheek as he hands you back the ball he’d considered melting with his quirk just moments before. he’s still so angry because of the pot.

it held his favourite flower, goddammit.

“you’re new here, too,” you chime as you take the ball from his hands. “i know you weren’t here the last time i came to visit… i’d remember a man like you if he were living across the street from me.”

he isn’t entirely sure if you actually don’t see it, or you simply turn a blind eye towards the dirt and the branding that he’s now burned into the ball with his fingers, but both choices seem just dandy to bakugou as he watches you grin up at him, now. so cutesy.

“moved in a couple of months ago,” he explains briefly, clearing his throat and wiping his hands against his black gym shorts. he has to wash them later anyway; what’s a little bit of sweat and dirt? “been sort of… startin’ over, hah.”

you could call it that, all right.

you give him a knowing look, but don’t say anything about the article that had covered the first page of nearly every newsletter in the country not a while back.

dynamight retires at the young age of 33 after yet another savage misdemeanor! read more below!

no, instead you say, “well, that’s nice. i certainly hope that you’ve adjusted and that our little neighbourhood has been treating you well, mister dynamight, sir.”

that last word… did you say it like that; so softly, almost purring, the first time, too?

“i suppose i did,” he answers, feeling a heat that he can’t blame on the late afternoon sun start to crawl up his neck. it’s not intense enough to make him blush, per se, but it is enough to tint the tips of his ears a light pink. damn, it sure has been a while if a mere tone has got him acting like this.

your smile grows bigger as you notice the faint change of shade. it makes your face beam. “i know it’s quaint compared to the city, but i’m sure you’ll learn to like it.”

he watches you turn so that you can head back to your house, inside of which your menace of a little brother is surely hiding, and he can’t help but eye you up from head to toe again, well, heel. the back of you is just as stunning as your front is, he’s dragging his eyes all over; that is until you whip your head to the side so that you can look at him over your shoulder.

“oh, and mister dynamight?”

“what?” he calls out. you’ve already reached the sidewalk.

“i really am sorry about your flower pot. i’ll buy you a new one, if you’ll let me,” you say, waving. “just don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

katsuki doesn’t answer. he wants to say a million things all at once, to agree, to deny, whatever. to tell you to call him katsuki, or at least bakugou; that he hasn’t been called dynamight in a while and hasn’t felt like him either for a long while, too. to ask you what your name is, because he’s just realized he’s never got it. to try shooting his shot, or just talk, talk, talk because he’s lonely, he’s been feeling oh, so very lonely ever since moving here.

but all he does instead, is raise his hand and wave.

#i might write more about this bkg and reader #i think they’re both so sweet!! #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #biscuit drabbles

[alien-magnolia]

Older! Eddie Munson x hyperfeminine! housewife! Reader : quick headcanons/ideas <3

18+ MDNI

Tw: big, girthy age gap :) (early 40’s /early 20’s), service kink!, sub!-coded fem reader, dom-coded Eddie munson, leashes!, obedience!!, etc

——

——

Marrying Edward Munson was most likely the best milestone of your life. The dull and bitter taste of Hawkins, Indiana had become bright and full of color!!

Your Eds has bought you a quaint, small, yet spacious enough home, in which you decorated with beige tones and tropical accents — plants, gold, mirrored walls, and topped it all off with a wooden kitchen. He provided for you as well, spending the usual nine to five workday facing the elements as a local construction worker. At exactly 5:10 each evening, he would come home to greet his babygirl. You were ever so ready!

He comes through the door, sawdust covered boots sprinkling dirt on the fuzzy carpet. You rush up to greet him, and you were met with a “hey babydoll,” and a swift strong arm picking you up to his lap.

With you clinging onto him like a little koala, he undresses his clothes, and then puts on a loose muscle tee with boxers <3!

“ how’s my little girl doing today, hmm? Tell me, doll,” a prompt from him was all it took for you to enthusiastically describe your day!! His patronizing smile made your “little kitty” as he called it, gush!!

You tell him about your cooking, your laundry, and how much you missed him, your daddy <3!

“Missed you too. How’s about your daddy shows you how much he missed his doll?,” his hairy forearms and calloused fingers grip your plush waist so tightly. He pulls you into his lap, and you feel his throbbing bulge press up against your mound. “Wet f’me?,” he taunts. You nod, your manicured hands clawing up his wide back and shoulders.

“Babygirl needs her leash and collar, yeah?,” he tuts at you, putting them on. His calloused fingers grab the O ring in the center of your collar, pulling the leash a bit. “There we go, sweets. Ready for daddy to play with. <3”

You could only drool and nod!

Your pretty tits pressed up against his hairy chest, his so so masculine hands squeezing your soft belly and hips until it HURT, and you rocking yourself on his bulge.

One thing you loved about Eddie, was that he was big. He was around five inches yes, but in width, goodness <3 it hurt to take him every time! He was wider than your hand, and would tut at you everytime your pretty pussy took that wide cock and huge balls of his.

So here you were, doing just that, clinging onto him, whining, as his girthy length stuffed you full. Belt buckle on the floor, your plush thighs against his tatted ones, his ringed hand on your ankle, which had a little ‘E’ tattoo on it.

Eddie actually gave you the tattoo himself, a few months ago, gently holding your ankle while working on the tattoo. You said it hurt but your Eds kept praising you for being so brave! <3 After he bandaged your new initial tattoo, he gave you your reward for being his “brave girl,” which was his cock stuffing you full for hours on end. <3

“Pussy’s just purring f’me, sweetheart. Look at that. She loves my cock, doesn’t she now?,” Eddie cooed at you as he bounced you on his girth. You could only whine and nod as you felt his balls, heavy and full, plap’ and slap against your wet cunt.

He came in you, of course, because you were his. The tattoo, the ring, the leash and collar, the part where he breeds his little wife, all signs that you belonged to him. You loved being his pretty little wife, spending the days at home, waiting for her husband.

It was all worth the wait <3

A/n: tysm for reading! If you like it pls comment or reblog it means a lot to me <3 -Liz

#liz’s masterlist #liz writes 🖤 #stranger things smut #dom eddie supremacy #daddy!eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson filth #soft dom eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #top eddie munson

[oh-stars]

Lilies & Lavender

Lavender

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 712 words | CW: assumed cheating, lavender marriage, nosy neighbors | Rating: G

--

“Mrs. Grayfield thinks you’re cheating on me,” Robin says as she hands him another bag of soil. 

Steve snorts, swiping at his face with the back of his gloved hand to brush off the dirt he knows he feels on his face. “She always thinks someone’s cheating,” he says. He rips open the bag of soil and starts adding it to the new pots they just bought for the porch. “Remember when she made that big fuss about the Levinsons? Turns out, they had their extended family living with them for some time.”

“Yeah, but this time she has, like, actual evidence,” Robin says, grunting with the effort of moving the new lilies they’d picked up that morning. “Tell me again why we’re not putting these beautiful plants in our actual garden?” 

“Our flower beds get too much shade,” Steve says. “I want to see how they do in the pots out here first before we commit to rearranging the back flower beds.” He squints up at her. “You were the one who said the porch was missing something.” 

She shrugs. “I was more so thinking we could freshen up the upholstery on the bench.” 

Steve waves her off. “This is better.” He takes the flower from her and together they replant it in its new home, a massive flower pot that’ll take up a good chunk of space on their porch. “What evidence does she have?” 

“Evidence?” 

“You said she had evidence I was cheating?” 

“Oh!” Robin giggles. “She saw Chrissy leaving the other morning.” 

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “This is why I think Ed and Chris should just move into the place around the corner. Then we wouldn’t have to explain the cars to anyone.” 

“But then Chrissy would lose her bay window,” Robin says, “and I am not prepared to deal with her losing that window.” 

“I think you both would live.” 

“And can you imagine if Eddie has to deal with noise complaints every other day?” 

Steve groans and grabs the next plant to place beside the first lily. “You’re right, it's a horrible idea.” 

Robin’s quiet while they finish transferring the lilies to their new pots, all eight of them neatly planted in the two pots to frame their porch steps where they can get the most sun possible. “Should we get a divorce?” 

“We could, but what’s the point? It’s not legal to marry who we actually want to marry and the benefits we get from being married are too good to pass up on. And personally,” Steve says as he takes off his gloves to actually scratch at his face, “I don’t feel like dealing with the headache of splitting our assets unless we need to.” 

“Good point.” 

“Plus,” Steve smirks, “if we’re divorced, we can’t use the spouse excuse.” 

Robin beams. The spouse excuse is something all four of them use to get out of things, sure, but for Steve and Robin, they like to remind their partners of who they’re actually married to from time to time. It’s the best way to keep their sacred sleepovers – no one can argue that a husband and wife are meant to spend the night together. 

She looks at their hard work. The lily pots still need to be moved to where they’ll actually be sitting, the white flowers bright against the terracotta pots. “Do you think it clashes with the lavender?” She motions to the lavender plants lining their flower bed and the paved path that connects to their driveway. 

Steve shakes his head. “And even if it did, it’s only temporary.” 

“What time’s Eddie coming over?”

“Three. We have to leave by four to get to the concert though. You sure you two don’t want to come with?” Steve asks. 

Robin hums. “I think we’ll pass. I want some quiet one-on-one time with her before the anniversary trip, you know?” 

Steve nods, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mrs. Grayfield watching from her own garden. He leans over and kisses her cheek. “Sounds wonderful, dear,” he says a little louder. “My dearest wife, would you mind grabbing the hose so we can water the flowers?” 

She catches on quick, grin impossibly wider. “Anything for you, darling husband of mine.”

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

#ohstars fic #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #stobin month 2024 #ohstars posting challenge #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #stobin

[lees-chaotic-brain]

The first years become one year old babies due to a curse and Gojo and his wife have to take care of them

WC: 1.5k

CW: female reader (reader referred to as wife), slight jjk spoilers (dad gojo), swearing, not beta read

Note: here you go @sitarawrites!! hope you enjoy! sorry this took so long...

JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

When your husband walked through the door holding a takeout bag filled with your favorite spicy food you knew he had fucked up. That man wouldn’t touch anything even remotely spicy with a ten foot pole, so it always made you a little nervous when he bought it and brought it home for dinner.

“Toru.” You plant your  hands on your hips and level him with a firm look. “You’re not fooling me. Just get it over with.”

He batted his eyes innocently. “Why, whatever are you talking about? I haven’t even done  anything. I just got home.”

“Uh huh. Then what’s that about?” You point an accusatory finger at the takeout. “You only buy dinner from that restaurant if you’re trying to bribe me into not being mad. Seriously. I’ve been married to you for over two years now. Your cheap tricks don’t work on me anymore. Just tell me what you did.”

“Aw, can’t a dutiful husband just buy his lovely wife her favorite food every now and again?”  He finishes removing his shoes and steps fully inside, leaving the front door open behind him.

“Gojo Satoru.” 

You’re clearly not amused, and definitely not buying it. At the sound of his full name he gulps and shoots you a nervous glance, his blue eyes wide.

“I’m telling you I-”

“Spit. It. Out. Now.”

Your lethal tone cuts off his pathetic last ditch attempt at denial, and he visibly shrinks into himself.

“Fine. You got me.” He lets out a high-pitched giggle. “I just want to preface this by saying I took them straight to Shoko and she said they would be completely fine and back to normal by tomorrow.”

“Okay…?”  You already didn’t like where this was going, nervous anticipation settling deep in your gut. Nothing had better happened to the three first years. You loved those kids like they were your own. “Continue.”

He takes a deep breath.

“BasicallyIkindofaccidentallygotthefirstyearsturnedintobabiesandYagawillhavemyassifhefindsoutsoIbroughtthemhere.”

His outburst winds him, and he wheezes, leaning against the door with a hand on his chest.

“What? Satoru I…” You trail off, staring at the small head that poked into your house through the open front door. A very familiar head of orangish-brown hair. Not moving a muscle, you blink at the toddler that toddles into your house. The toddler that looked eerily familiar.

“Gojo Satoru.” You speak, not taking your eyes off the small child. “That better not be my Nobara.”

“Well, erm, the thing is…one moment.” He steps back into his shoes and darts out of the house. As he fled, the tiny human approached you, clearly recognizing who you were. Deciding to let him be for the time being, you crouch down so you’re eye level with Maybe-Baby Nobara.

“Hey sweetie.” You boop her nose, eliciting a loud squeal. “Are you Nobara?”

The baby babbles excitedly and claps her meaty hands when you say her name, confirming your suspicions. Before you can process your realization, a shrill scream that you recognize as your husband pierces the air. Scooping the lively child up and into your arms, you hurry out the front door to investigate.

Upon stepping outside, the first thing you notice is a baby sitting in your front yard shoveling handfuls of grass and dirt into his face. The second thing you notice is that the baby is unmistakably Yuuji. Putting your husband's screams on the back burner for the time being, you dart forward to deal with him.

“No! Don’t eat that!” You gently pry the dirt from his chubby fists, unable to stop yourself from giggling when he gurgles at you happily with a muddy grin. Unfortunately, the renewed sound of your husband’s scream ruined the cute moment as you were forced to deal with your overgrown man child.

You grabbed Yuuji, propping him on your other him before standing and renewing your search for Satoru. It didn’t take long to find him, as he came hurtling around a corner, one of Megumi’s divine dogs hot on his trail. Confused, and enjoying his panic a little bit too much, you peered around the corner and spotted the last first year on the back of his other shikigami. Ah. That’s where the divine dog chasing you not-so-beloved husband came from. 

Trusting Megumi to make his own inside (plus he had grown up in this house and you knew his divine dogs wouldn’t let anything happen to him), you turn head in the direction you saw your husband sprint.

You wanted answers.

The five of you sat in your living room after you had convinced Megumi to call his shikigami back and wrangled your husband out of the tree he had taken refuge in. Now Satoru sat in an armchair while you sat on the sofa in front of him, Megumi snuggled in your right arm, Nobara in your left, and Yuji on your lap.

“So. Here’s how this is going to go. You are going to start from the beginning, and tell me EVERYTHING. You’re not going to leave out any little details that might get you in trouble. You’re going to give me the whole story.”

Nodding sheepishly, your husband explained that he had taken them to a curse site and waited outside while the three first years completed the mission that was supposed to be his. When fifteen minutes had passed, and they still hadn’t returned he went to check on them and found them in their current state. Panicking, he had taken care of the curse and rushed them to Shoko who examined them and told him they would be fine by tomorrow.

“-So I brought them here for the night.” He finished his story, and shot you a pleading glance. “I’m begging you. Yaga will get me in so much trouble if he finds out. It’s just one night. We can take care of them.”

You scoff. “Please. I was there all throughout high school. The worst you’ll get is a scolding, which frankly, you deserve. So bring the poor kids to Yaga who is more qualified to look after them than the both of us combined.”

“Please? For me, the love of your life?” Desperation glimmered in the depths of his vibrant blue eyes.

You shook your head firmly. “There’s no way. We’re not equipped to take care of three tiny humans, even if it is just for one night.”

“Please babe?” He gave you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “We raised Megumi and Tsumiki just fine! We got this.”

You opened your mouth to respond, fully prepared to continue ignoring your husbands please when you were distracted by Megumi shifting in your arms.

“Mama…” He nuzzled sleepily into your neck with a soft mutter. Feeling your heart melt, you planted a kiss in his messy black hair and readjusted your grip so you could cuddle him better.

“I’m here baby. I got you.”

Stirring at the sound of your voice, Nobara gazed up at you from your other arm, clearly jealous of the attention Megumi was receiving. Wrapping her chubby arms around your neck and clinging tight, she made a face at Megumi. Thankfully he ignored it and peace was maintained.

Catching the way your eyes softened, your husband saw his chance and swooped in to take it. “Aw, see how much they like you? Imagine how sad and confused they would be if you left them with someone they don’t know that well? Plus I know you think  they’re cute. Come on. It’s not like it’s forever. Don’t you want one night to cuddle with them to your heart's content?”

Glancing down at the two babies snuggled in your arms and the third slobbering around his own fist as he sat on your lap, you couldn’t help  but admit that they were rather cute, and spending a night with them wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.

“Fine.” You concede, ignoring your husband's cheers. “One night. I’ll take care of them one night. If they’re not back to normal by tomorrow, you have to take them to Yaga. Deal?”

Your husband quickly agreed, too relieved to argue. “Yes yes yes, of course. Thank you. Thank you so much. You’re literally the best. I love you more than anything. My wife. The light of my-”

“Shut it.”  You cut him off with a sharp look. “Sweet talking isn’t going to get you out of this. You’re still on thin ice, and don’t think we won’t be talking about this later.”

With a pout your husband acknowledged what you said before leaving you to play with the babies while he went to go buy some baby food.

And despite your griping and idle threats, later when you were snuggled up in bed with the three babies while Satoru slept on the floor, you couldn’t help but be a tad bit grateful for the incident.

#lee's brain writes #lee's brain writes: requests #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #fluff #jjk fic #crack #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #gojo satoru #shoko ieri #yuji itadori #itadori yuji #nobara kugisaki #kugisaki nobara #first year babies au

[thatfreshi]

As a prompt - maybe Astarion (or Tav for that matter) going absolutely feral (and i mean really) when someone or something hurts badly the other (or try to) ?

I don't know of it has already been donc by you and if it has sorry, really appreciate your writing though ! Thank you <3

Learning to trust is difficult

tw - themes of death, talk of injuries

"I just don't know how you don't seem to care! It's bad Astarion, really bad, and I'm not going to sit here and watch you hurt."

While you and the vampire were on night watch, you got jumped by some thieves scrounging around in the woods of the Sword Coast. He took the brunt of the fight, taking quite a couple slices to the abdomen.

"We'll wait til morning, like I said. Shadowheart will be rested by then, and we'll all be fine."

"Oh right, so you can bleed out? You think you're such a jester, don't you."

You already dealt with the perpetrators, making sure they were flayed across the grass, any hopes they had of stealing from you shot down from miles away.

"If it were that bad I would wake her Tav, but it's not."

Gods, he's frustrating. Driving you to the point of madness, constantly. For someone who finally has a second chance at life, he can be quite reckless. Instead of trying to argue with him further, you walk over to where he's propped himself against his bedroll, and start undressing his wounds. He almost tries to push you away, but the lightest touch of the cuts makes him lose his strength.

"Tav, stop it."

"No! Because you can wrap these all you want, but if you leave these like this overnight it's going to get nasty, and I know for a fact you can't stitch wounds like this."

"Then it is was it is."

"No, I'm getting her. Stay here."

Astarion grabs at your wrist. There's a dreary silence for a moment, and he refuses your eye contact.

"I've done this by myself, for how long? Do you have any idea what it makes me feel like, having to turn to someone who is practically a stranger, and put my life in their hands? I did that once my love, and I have regretted it ever since."

And you know exactly what he's talking about, that night in the alley, fragmented memories only covered up by digging through six feet of dirt.

"You would've died though."

"Perhaps it would have been best that way."

You know that no selfish reason you have about wanting him around could ever make up for all the things he endured under Cazador, that if he had bled out that night he would at least be at peace.

"This is different though. We're all working together, we all want the same things. Shadowheart isn't going to hold this over you."

"You don't know that. I mean look at me. I planned on seducing you and getting rid of you as soon as I could, all to keep myself safe. We will never truly know what the others want, what their intentions with us are."

"Then why trust me?"

He hesitates as you wrap his abdomen once again.

"I... I don't know... You're just, different."

"Then what's to say Shadowheart isn't also different? Or any of them for that matter?"

You cup his face in your hand.

"It's just easier to risk one of you. To risk loving you, and only you. Because if you betray me? Then I've played myself for a fool, and I can't have two knives in my back."

"You don't have to trust her Aster, but you need her right now. We need her, because I can't lose you either."

Your hand trails to his, and you feel at each other's fingers for a few long moments. He tries to come up with something to say, knowing he will most likely bleed out if you two don't wake the cleric.

"You trust me right? You're making that risk at least, taking that chance? Then trust that I'm trying to make the right choice for you."

Even if he doesn't bleed out, he doesn't deserve to writhe in pain all night, to which you're sure he would say something about how he's done it a million times before. Why, why does he try to be strong for you?

"Alright my love, wake her."

You get up without a word, planting a quick kiss on his forehead before leaving the tent, your feet gliding to where Shadowheart is sleeping.

"Shadowheart, we need you."

She's a light sleeper, like most of you, and wakes with the few simple words you speak.

"What it is?"

The cleric asks as she walks with you.

"Astarion. We had some unwelcome visitors on watch. It's... it's not pretty."

You come back to your tent, gently moving the fabric by the entrance as Shadowheart moves to him, focused on doing what needs to be done. She unwraps the bandages and you come to his side. He's silent.

"Lady of Sorrows, this is horrific Astarion. How long have you let this sit like this?"

It takes him a moment to muster the words, still clearly embarrassed to be receiving her help this late. You've learned though that he hates people speaking for him, so you just wait.

"It's been about half an hour. Tav and I have been arguing about getting your assistance. They insisted we wake you, and I insisted we shouldn't bother."

"Well, you're lucky Tav isn't as stubborn as you are, because this is nasty. While I'm not as familiar with vampire anatomy, this would not have sat well overnight."

She takes a moment to gather herself, before casting healing touch, letting the magic linger a little longer than normal. You watch as his pale skin slowly comes back together, stitching itself up like embroidery thread. Shadowheart takes a moment to admire her work, smirking slightly. Her expression then becomes somber for a moment.

"As much as I'm not the sappy type, please don't hesitate to get me when you need me. Despite how much you all annoy me, I'm still rather fond of you as companions. I would hate to see any of you go too soon, especially over something as simple as this."

Astarion says nothing in return, and soon after the devout Sharran leaves the two of you alone. The two of you lie down, wrapping yourselves up in each other, limbs entangled as if you're scared of being torn apart.

"I know it's hard, but you have to learn to ask for help. If not for yourself, for me. Because I can only do so much my star."

"I know."

"I'm sorry I yelled. It just really scares me, the idea that I could lose you."

He nuzzles into your chest, the movement dampening his voice.

"I don't think anyone's ever been afraid to lose me, except me. And I fear I lost myself far too long ago for it to matter."

You wrap your fingers in his hair, sitting in the sorrow with him.

"All things that are lost can be found. And we'll find you again my love, I promise."

He doesn't thank you, which you don't mind. After all, Astarion isn't used to having anyone to genuinely thank. But the way he lets you hold him, that slowly but surely the walls are coming down, that's his own way of saying it, saying that he's grateful. And as long as he lives to see another day, you'll take whatever he gives you, for as long as both of you live.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav #angst #comfort #x reader

[mydearesthrry]

hayday, braids, and chocolate - h.s.

a/n: self indulgent as fuck. wrote this a couple of hours ago…hope u enjoy as always 😘

wc: 1.1k (shes a shorty!)

cw: fluff. name calling i guess? in a joking and loving way <3, one suggestive sentence ig

summary: sundays with harry <3

A movie was playing softly in the background, Harry and Y/N talking about god knows what as he laid on his back, head resting on the armrest of the couch. Laying on her tummy against his chest, her chin was propped up on the back of her hands as her palms rested on his shirtless chest, neck craned to look at him as they spoke.

About anything, really.

“No, I honestly have t’say tha’ I disagree with you, lovie,” He looked to the ceiling in thought. “How could you possibly even bend that way? I know for a fact that y’aren’t flexible, there’s jus’ no way y’can prop up y’legs behind y’head.”

“Harry, do you actually think that all our millionaire friends stay at every house they own?”

“I actually haven’t thought about tha’, and I have a scary feelin’ that y’might be right. What d’they even put in these things? Like… what is a gusher?”

Or the occasional switch in position, Harry still on his back and Y/N now on hers with her back to his chest. Most likely for a phone break— or, more like Y/N getting stuck on TikTok and forcing Harry to watch with her.

“Jesus Christ, how much red 40 are in those fucking pickles?”

“Holy shit, tha’ dog is so fat.”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?”

“Yeah, lovie. Tha’s a guinea pig wearing a cowboy hat. With m’initials on it.”

Or… just them sitting in silence. For the most part.

“Harry…” YN sighed, clicking at her phone. Her legs were slung over Harry’s thighs, her back resting against the arm of the couch. They’d switched positions a couple of hours ago, now sitting in complete silence as they became iPad kids and tapped away on their respective devices.

“Yeah, m’love?” Harry said, setting his crops into the dirt before looking at her, his head turned and tilted slightly like a puppy.

“D’you have any corn or wheat?” She asked, needing to plant some on her HayDay farm. She knew he would know what she was talking about, seeing as HayDay had been their new obsession as of recent.

“Were you staring at my phone or summat?” He gasped with a bewildered look.

“...No?” She questioned. She laughed when he turned his phone screen to face her, HayDay opened on his phone as well. Turning his phone back to face him, a few beats passed with them sitting in silence, their noses both stuck in their phones.

“So… do you?”

“Yep, just put them on m’market.”

“And that, is why I love you.”

—

“Ow! Tha’ fuckin’ hurt, babe.” Harry groaned, pulling his girlfriend’s fingers from his hair.

“Oh suck it up, you big baby. You asked me to massage your scalp, you can’t get mad at me since I’m literally doing what you asked.” She grumbled, slapping Harry’s hand away and moving hers back up to his curls, twisting little strands around her pointer fingers.

“I-“ He started.

“Say something, brat. I dare you.” She said, grabbing his chin to tilt his head back.

“Nothing,” Harry muttered, moving his head back to its original position on her chest. “Thank you, baby.”

“Whatever. You’re still a brat,” She kissed his temple three times, craning her neck a bit more to kiss his lips with his assistance of craning his to meet her lips as well. “But, I love you.”

“I love you. Love of m’life, m’muse, m’soulmate,” He placed soft kisses on her lips with every other word, kissing her deeply with his last. They sat in silence for a little, soft breathing and the occasional beep from his phone sounding the room, until Harry broke the silence.

“Lovie?”

“Hm?”

“Can y’braid m’hair?”

“Are you gonna complain if I pull too hard?

“No, but I’ll probably get hard.”

A pause. “Y’know what? I’ll take it. Get me a hair tie then sit on the floor.”

—

“H, come here.” Y/N groaned.

“No.” Harry said, arms crossed as he turned his back to her.

“You’re such a fucking diva,” She said, kicking at the bottom of his back with a socked foot, trying to garner his attention. “Don’t know how I put up with you.”

“Oh, ‘M the diva? Y’just chewed m’out ‘cause I accidentally ate the last bit of your chocolate, even though y’told me last night that y’still had some left!” He whined, back still turned to his girlfriend.

“Oh my God. Are you serious? I said I had some in my desk at work, not at home, you fucking twat.” She said exasperatedly, still poking her toes into his back.

Reaching behind him, he grabbed her socked feet and held them tightly, making her whine and complain about the constriction. “Let my feet go!”

“No. Not until y’apologize.” He said matter of factly, turning the slightest bit so he could hold her feet in his lap, face not facing her, but instead watching the movie that was now on mute on the TV.

“Do I have to?” She asked, voice low.

“D’you want y’feet back?” He gave her the same tone of voice, not paying her any mind.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, scooching forward as much as she could to rest her chin on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you for eating my chocolate.”

“Hmm, and?” He hummed, moving to rub small circles into the soles of the fuzzy fabric covered skin.

“And ‘M sorry that I wasn’t more specific. Forgive me? I love you.” She whispered, moving to rest the plush of her cheek onto his shirtless shoulder, her lips brushing against the skin when she spoke.

Sighing, he fully turned to her and raised an eyebrow, letting her feet go and placing a soft kiss onto her forehead. “Of course I forgive you, sweet girl. I’d forgive y’a million times over. I’ll buy y’new chocolate, baby. Jus’ love when y’get all soft w’me. S’ like, m’favorite thing ever. Besides you, I guess.”

He was cut off by a yelp when she used their closeness to her advantage and took a bite out of her shoulder.

“Y’fucking bitch.”

“Twat.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry <3 #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #harry styles x fem!reader

[smoothielenny]

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ

Neteyam x omatikaya!gn!reader

Summary: You’re a very shy person to the point that you rarely speak to others. You only nodded and show body languages to communicate. Everyone just assumed that you might have a disability that causes you not to talk, but you’re just a very timid person.

Warning: bullying, teasing, not proofread

[one•two•three]

Y’all gave so much love to my first writing ever. Thank you, so here’s a gift for you guys❤️

You love walking around the forest. You always adore the little things in life, specifically insects. You love watching them crawl on top of the leaf whether carrying their food or running away from you. Everyone finds you weird for it, but you didn’t care much. You’re very distracted in your own world.

There’s this one insect that you find intriguing, it has a purple with blue stripes on it. You followed the little bug crawling towards underneath the leaf. You frowned from it’s action, the bug thought that you are a threat, but try to prove that you aren’t.

You ripped a leaf from a plant and use it to scoop water nearby a pond. You came back to the bug and offered the water to it. It look at you with a bit of confusion then look at the water. It step towards it, but still doesn’t trust it so it step back. You move the leaf near the bug which hesitates to walk back, but eventually does and drink the water.

You smiled and lay down to watch the bug beside you drinking it’s water. It was only a short time of enjoyment until a foot is set on your presence. You look up and it was those boys, those boys who always teases you. They never leave you alone, they love to taunt you. You sigh and stand up as the bug flee away.

“Oh it’s (y/n), I thought it was another bug.” The boy cackles with his friend. They sneered and one them approached you that causes you to step back, “Oh c’mon, I don’t bite.” His sarcastic tone made your ear flat. You just wanna be left alone.

You turned around and tried to walk from them, but they grabbed your wrist and tail and starts pulling them here and there. You cried in pain as they laugh, even through pain you couldn’t let out a loud help, you just injured it.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” They all turned around on the same direction and ran away. ‘Finally’ you thought, you groaned as you stand up. You brush off some dirt all over your body. You look at the boy who just saved you. It was Neteyam. Your eyes widen, you’ve never personally talked to the son of Olo’eyktan. Well as if you would, you’re too timid to talk.

“Are you okay?” He walked close to you. You step back refusing to look at him, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just checking.” You glance at him, you suddenly feel a sting from your forearm. You look at it and it has a wound, fresh blood still dripping.

Neteyam noticed and grabbed your wrist and walked, “You’re bleeding, we need to get you to grandma.” You didn’t say anything and just let him lead you.

You stumbled here and there from your weak state, Neteyam then decided to carry you (bridal style). This made your heart suddenly flutter. You can feel his warm and hard body. It gives you comfort. The boy too can feel your body warming.

You finally arrived in the Tsahik’s marui. Neteyam carefully put you down, making sure and asking if you can stand on your own and such. You just nodded and stand next to him still covering your forearm.

“Grandma, Can you help (y/n)?” Mo’at turn around to face her grandson and the injured one beside him. She walked to center then sat down. “Come here, I’ll help you.” You hesitated a bit, but Neteyam let’s you know it’ll be alright. You then sat down next to her.

She grabbed one of the paste near her, “move your hands, I need to see the wound.” You quickly remove it not wanting to disappoint her. She took a look at it for seconds. She then stand up, grabbed and wet a towel and gave it to Neteyam.

“Clean the blood off her, I’ll find a better medicine for her wound.” Neteyam just nodded and hurried himself to you. He sat down next to you, “Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” You nodded and look down.

He starts dabbing the cloth to your wound. You winced from it, “Does it hurt?” You shook your head. He continued to clean the blood off.

You didn’t know how to act. His closeness to your personal space made you a bit nervous, but at the same time comfort. He’s one of the first people who ever cared for you. It felt nice, you didn’t know you’ve been longing for something like this.

“Alright all done!” Neteyam put the clothe on the bowl and smiles at you. It made you bashful, you just look away which made the young boy frown. Mo’at then sat next to Neteyam and applied the paste. The sting shivered your whole body, you clenched your fist and bit your lip.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s almost done.” Neteyam assured. He pat your head. You look at his golden eyes and formed a wobbly smile. After a few seconds, the whole wound is covered in paste and wrapped with some leaves to stay put.

You bowed to the Tsahik as a thank you. She just nodded and took the bowl and cloth with her to clean. Neteyam helped you stand up with his hand. You felt his warm hand gently holding yours. He lead you to the entrance of the marui.

“Can you walk home by yourself?” You nodded again. You let go of his hands and walk away from him. “See you later, (y/n)!” You look back at him waving his hand.

A small smile formed on your lips, “See you later, too. Thank you, Neteyam.” You then continued to walk. Unbeknownst to you, you left the boy blushing. It was the first time he heard your voice, it was a very sweet tone.

Mo’at walked to the entrance finding her grandson staring and blushing. “Hey, where are you staring at?” Then Neteyam snap out of it.

“Oh uhm, d-did you heard them?” Neteyam asked. Mo’at tilt her head, “(y/n)? I didn’t, they could talk?” Neteyam seemed confused.

“I thought Eywa granted them not being able to speak.”

#avatar 2009 #avatar way of water #avatar x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam headcanons #avatar 2 #avatar fanfiction #atwow #atwow headcanons #atwow fanfiction #atwow hcs #neteyam x you #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x y/n

[wingedblooms]

Blooming dreams

Gardeners, I think, dream bigger dreams than emperors. (Mary Cantwell)

This meta is a continuation of my thoughts over the years, but especially the ones expressed in the following links. Please be aware that there are major hofas spoilers in this post and avoid if needed.

Secret, lovely seer / Forbidden secrets

A rose in the thorns / The flower of life

Seer, wise woman, witch / Three sisters witches / Starborn light

Since my first meta, I have been fixated on Elain’s connection to the Mother, Cauldron, and Fate (let's call her Wyrd) and her potential powers, including sight, shapeshifting, and healing. They are all related when you’re talking about Wyrd, though I am not here to say what I have written is what Sarah has planned. This post is more a love letter to Sarah’s mystical and earthy depiction of Elain and what I would love to see in her story based on all the seeds she’s planted (and if there is an actual magical bean seed involved, I’ll love her all the more for it). Thanks especially to @psychologynerd for previewing this fever dream of a post.

I gazed again at that sad, dark house—the place that had been a prison. Elain had said she missed it, and I wondered what she saw when she looked at the cottage. If she beheld not a prison but a shelter—a shelter from a world that had possessed so little good, but she tried to find it anyway, even if it had seemed foolish and useless to me. She had looked at that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger. (acotar)

From the first book in the series, Feyre recognizes that Elain views things differently. She views things that are sad and dark with hope, and that’s why Sarah has called her the quiet dreamer. It’s a strength that sets her apart. I like to think that’s also what the Cauldron—though warped by the Asteri—saw when she was forced into its womb. 

The Cauldron seemed to realize what she’d done, too, as his head thumped onto the mossy ground. That Elain…Elain had defended this thief. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something…It would not harm Elain, even in its hunt to reclaim what had been taken. (acowar)

@silverlinedeyes and I wondered if it may have recognized Elain as a kindred spirit, some echo of its Mother form. A creator, life-bringer. Were the waters of the Cauldron more like Silba’s Womb—a darkness of creation, sweet and lovely—when Elain was immersed? Or is it possible that when Elain entered its dark womb she viewed it differently than her sister? Did she see a wounded creator to help rather than an enemy to combat? 

Elain’s hopeful perspective might be why it gifted her with such powers, powers that we know allow her to see differently than others. And since it may have enhanced her unique perception, I wonder if it also enhanced her ability to bring life and beauty into the world. As a gardener, Elain is well acquainted with the task of envisioning her garden and then getting her hands dirty to make that vision a reality. Dream and reality are entwined in gardening, just like her Sight.

“She loves to garden. Always loved growing things. Even when we were destitute, she managed to tend a little garden in the warmer months. And when–when our fortune returned, she took to tending and planting the most beautiful gardens you’ve ever seen. Even in Prythian. It drove the servants mad, because they were supposed to do the work and ladies were only meant to clip a rose here and there, but Elain would put on a hat and gloves and kneel in the dirt, weeding. She acted like a purebred lady in every regard but that.” (acowar)  If Elain was a blooming flower in this army camp, then Nesta…she was a freshly forged sword, waiting to draw blood. [...] Nesta stared them all down. Elain kept her focus on the dry, rocky ground. (acowar)  She had no mental shields, no barriers. The gates to her mind…Solid iron, covered in vines of flowers–or it would have been. The blossoms were all sealed, sleeping buds tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns. (acowar) If Elain’s mental gates were those of a sleeping garden, Nesta’s…They belonged to an ancient fortress, sharp and brutal. The sort I imagined they once impaled people upon. (acowar)  “What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this…I think the world needs more gardens.” (acowar) 

As we saw in acosf for Nesta—a new type of warrior who forges magical swords and retrieves the Harp from an ancient fortress (the Prison) connected to the Starborn—these descriptions are clearly meant to foreshadow what occurs in the sisters’ stories. While Nesta is a freshly forged sword, Elain is blooming life in Illyria. And what do we learn in hofas? 

“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.”  Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?” [...]  “All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.” (hofas)

We receive confirmation that the Cauldron is associated with the sister peaks, as I suspected, and Ramiel in particular as @merymoonbeam has previously suggested. 

Before Bryce could contemplate this further, Silene went on, But my mother and father knew they needed the most valuable of all the Daglan’s weapons. Bryce tensed. This had to be the thing that had given them the edge— The snows around Ramiel parted, revealing a massive bowl of iron at the foot of the monolith. Even through the vision, its presence leaked into the world, a heavy, ominous thing. “The Cauldron,” Nesta said, dread lacing her voice. […] “The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced…those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.”  [...] “They fought the Daglan and won, she went on. Using the Daglan’s own weapons, they destroyed them. Yet my parents did not think to learn the Daglan’s other secrets—they were too weary, too eager to leave the past behind.” (hofas) 

In Forbidden secrets, I theorized that Elain’s powers might allow her to map the secrets of the land in order to heal it and @offtorivendell discussed magical mounds in her theory on reviving dusk. It seems like the Asteri did indeed leave secrets behind, which might explain why certain places continue to be forbidden and barren. But we are given hope that they do not need to remain that way. In hofas, Bryce wakes and wields the land belonging to her Starborn ancestors on the Prison island:

And precisely as Theia had gifted her own power to Silene … perhaps Silene had in turn left that same power here, to be claimed by a future scion. One by one, rapid as shooting stars, the thoughts raced through Bryce. More on instinct than anything else, she dropped to her knees and slammed her hand atop the eight-pointed star. Bryce reached with her mind, through layers of rock and earth—and there it was. Slumbering beneath her. Not firstlight, not as she knew it on Midgard—but raw Fae power from a time before the Drop. The power ascended toward her through the stone, like a glimmering arrow fired into the dark— [...] Like a small sun emerging from the stone itself, a ball of light burst from the floor. A star, twin to the one in Bryce’s chest. Her starlight at last awoke again, as if reaching with shining fingers for that star hovering inches away. With trembling hands, Bryce guided the star to the one gleaming on her chest. Into her body. White light erupted everywhere. Power, uncut and ancient, scorched through her veins. The hair on her head rose. Debris floated upward. She was everywhere and nowhere. She was the evening star and the last rays of color before the dark. Azriel had nearly reached the tunnel. Another flap of his wings and he’d be swallowed by its dark mouth. But at a mere thought from Bryce, stalactites and stalagmites formed, closing in on him. The room became a wolf, its jaws snapping for the winged warrior— The rock had moved for her, as it had for Silene. “Stop him,” she said in a voice that was more like her father’s than anything she’d ever heard come out of her mouth. Azriel swept for the tunnel archway—and slammed into a wall of stone. The exit had sealed. Slowly, he turned, wings rustling. Blood trickled out of his nose from his face-first collision with the rock now in his path. He spread his wings, bracing for a fight. The mountain shook, the chamber with it. Debris fell from the ceiling. Walls began shifting, rock groaning against rock. As if the place this had once been was fighting to emerge from the stone. [...] From far away, she could sense it: the things lurking within the mountain, her mountain. Twisted, wretched creatures. Some had been here since Silene had trapped them. Had been contemplating their escape and revenge all this time. She’d let them out if she restored the mountain to its former glory. And in that moment, the mountain—the island—spoke to her. Alone. It was so alone—it had been waiting all this time. Cold and adrift in this thrashing gray sea. If she could reach out, if she could open her heart to it…it might sing again. Awaken. There was a beating, vibrant heart locked away, far beneath them. If she freed it, the land would rise from its slumber, and such wonders would spring again from its earth— (hofas)

The mountain–Bryce’s mountain–speaks to her, asking her to open her heart to it so it can finally rise from its slumber. Cue internal screaming, my friends, because this language was intentional and it might finally explain Elain’s conversation in this scene: 

She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth. “When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.” (acowar)

Elain’s hearing is a source of concern after she is Made because it is unusually heightened; she hears so many things, usually connected to the nature around her as @silverlinedeyes theorized. Like calls to like, and so she might be able to hear the beating heart of the land around her, even as it slumbers. Perhaps that is why her eyes were drawn to the barren ground in Illyria.

Vesperus, an Asteri trapped in a glass coffin below the Prison, tells us more about the connection between the Cauldron and the land: 

“I am the Evening Star,” Vesperus seethed. Bryce rolled her eyes. “Fine, we’ll call you the Evening Star, too. Happy?” “Is it not fitting?” A wave of long fingers capped in sharp nails. “I drank from the land’s magic, and the land’s magic drank from me.” [...] Vesperus folded her hands in her lap. “A planet that was once green, as this one is.” “And that wasn’t good enough?” “We grew too populous. Wars broke out between the various beings on our world. Some of us saw the changes in the land beginning—rivers run dry, clouds so thick the sun could not pierce them—and left. Our brightest minds found ways to bend the fabric of worlds. To travel between them. Wayfarers, we called them. World-walkers.” [...] “Once we left our home world, our powers began to dim. Too late, we realized that we had been dependent on our land’s inherent magic. The magic in other worlds was not potent enough. Yet we could not find the way back home. Those of us who ventured here found ways to amplify that power, thanks to the gifts of the land. We pooled our power, and imbued those gifts into the Cauldron so that it would work our will. We Made the Trove from it. And then bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.” Solas. “So destroy the Cauldron…” “And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.”

This should come as no surprise because we saw this play out in acowar, but the Cauldron is tied to the soul of their world. The term soul is intentional, and we will return to it in a bit, but I started to wonder in Forbidden secrets about that connection. The influence of Wyrd is especially clear in the sacred peaks, where the Asteri left behind their secrets. Could Elain unravel the Asteri’s magic from the slumbering heart of the earth, and unbind the Cauldron as a result? Or will she need to go to Cretea to retrieve and purify the magic of the Asteri from the Cauldron like a healer would, in body and in spirit? (Hello, Nephelle celebrations, let’s go.) Nothing feels more right than seeing our strong-willed gardener get her hands dirty as she rips out the Asteri from the root, or beating heart, of their world. Sarah may have even hinted at this role for Elain as she describes getting into her mind for her book:

“There was literally ivy everywhere: in the garden beds, wrapped around the trees, crawling up the sides of the house. So I went into this obsessive, I-need-to-rip-out-every-last-strand-of-ivy-before-I-have-this-baby mode. And I remember the entire time I was ripping out the ivy, and trying to get some semblance of order into the garden beds, I just slipped into Elain’s head. Elain is a gardener, and everything I did during those weeks became research for her book. I’m not even joking. Elain’s now going to have dreams about ripping ivy out and the ivy creeping in through the windows to strangle her at night, because let me tell you, that ivy does not want to go.” (Sarah’s interview in acofas) 

English ivy is an aggressive invader and its hosts decline over time before they die. That’s exactly what the Asteri are: aggressive invaders that feed off of their hosts, warping the power of the land for their sole benefit, until it begins to wither away. In hofas, we learn that the Asteri hid their power throughout the land, including at the root of sacred mountains:

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.”

“There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly.

“Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.” (hofas)

And we see the moment Bryce discovers that Vesperus has hidden her power in the root of the Prison mountain, which is what sustains her and weakens the land: 

Bryce clutched the Starsword tighter. Its power thudded into her palms like a heartbeat. “But why store your power here? It’s an island—not exactly an easy pit stop.” “There are certain places, girl, that are better suited to hold power than others. Places where the veil between worlds is thin, and magic naturally abounds. Our light thrives in such environments, sustained by the regenerative magic of the land.” She gestured around them. “This island is a thin place—the mists around it declare it so.”  […] “Every world has at least one thin place,” Vesperus drawled. “And there are always certain people more suited to exploit it—to claim its powers, to travel through them to other worlds.” […] “Theia had the gift,” Vesperus said, “but did not understand how to claim the light. I made sure never to reveal how during her training—how she might light up entire worlds, if she wished, if she seized the power to amplify her own. But you, Light-Stealer…She must have passed the gift down to you. And it seems you have learned what she did not.”  Vesperus peered at her bare feet, the rock beneath. “Theia never learned how to access the power I cached beneath my palace. She had no choice but to leave it there, buried in the veins of this mountain. Her loss—and my gain.” Oh gods. There was a fucking firstlight core here, far beneath their feet— (hofas)

These thin places are where ley lines—highways for magic and communication—overlap, allowing travel for those who are suited to it (wayfarers). Starborn and Asteri alike seem to be suited to these places, and have used them to store their power, causing the land around it to wither. 

“Ley lines,” Bryce breathed. Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. “Precisely,” Apollion answered for Aidas with an approving nod. “The Northern Rift, the Southern Rift—both lie atop a tremendous knot of ley lines. And while those under Avallen are not as strong, the island is unique as a thin place thanks to the presence of black salt—which ties it to Hel.” “And the mists?” Hunt asked. “What’s the deal with them?” “The mists are a result of the ley lines’ power,” Aidas said. “They’re an indication of a thin place. Hoping to find a ley line strong enough to help her transfer and hide Theia’s power, Helena sent a fleet of Fae with earth magic to scour every misty place they could find on Midgard. When they told her of a place wreathed in mists so thick they could not pierce them, Helena went to investigate. The mists parted for her—as if they had been waiting. She found the small network of caves on Avallen … and the black salt beneath the surface.”

All of the sister peaks thrum with power and are at odds with the land around them. Barren. They might all be thin places, interconnected through ley lines...and hiding a cache of magic in the root (heart) of their souls.

Bryce’s ancestors, separated by the Void, planted clues for those with the gifts and vision to see it.

What had looked like etched seas or rivers of stars now filled in with starlight, became … alive. Moving, cascading, coursing. A secret illustration, only for those with the gifts and vision to see it. (hofas)

A secret carved in stone. What secrets remain under other sacred mountains, such as Ramiel? Is it any coincidence that Enalius, who defended Ramiel, was the owner of Truth-Teller? Or that the Cauldron is depicted there? Who would be equipped with the gifts and vision to uncover those secrets and finally set the soul of the land free, like Bryce? 

“Light blasted up through the blades into her hands, her arms, her heart. Bryce could hear it through her feet, through the stone. The song of the land beneath her. Quiet and old and forgotten, but there. She heard how Avallen had yielded its joy, its bright green lands and skies and flowers, so it might hold the power as it was bid, waiting all this time for someone to unleash it. To free it. […] Helena had bound the soul of this land in magical chains. No more. No more would Bryce allow the Fae to lay claim over anything. “You’re free,” Bryce whispered to Avallen, to the land and the pure, inherent magic beneath it. “Be free.” And it was. (hofas)

Helena bound the soul of Avallen in magical chains. Doesn't that sound like what the Asteri did with the Cauldron and the land? There are so many hints that Elain is set up to address this plot, but the one I find the most compelling is given by the Under-King when he confirms who Urd (Wyrd) is:

The Under-King lounged on a throne beneath a behemoth statue of a figure holding a black metal bowl between her upraised hands. Symbols were carved all over the bowl, continuing down her fingers, her arms, her body. Ithan could only assume it was meant to represent Urd. No other temples ever depicted the goddess, no one even dared—most people claimed that fate was impossible to portray in any one form. But it seemed that the dead, unlike the living, had a vision of her. And those symbols running from the bowl onto her skin…they were like tattoos.” […] “And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.” (hofas)

Now, doesn't that sound familiar?

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. (acosf)

The statues are essentially the same and Wyrd has already been described in terms that evoke the Mother, Cauldron, and Fate (Forces That Be). And Nesta just happened to feel the need (fateful tug?) to place Elain’s rose—a symbol of life and joy and beauty—right next to Urd, and drew our attention to it again in the final scene of her story. What do you want to bet that Wyrd, the Stone Mother, gave her favorite gardener the gifts and vision she needs to make her dream of building more gardens, of breathing life and beauty into the land, a reality?

Sarah has confirmed that the main female characters in her books are helped by others, usually a love interest and friends. So who might be foreshadowed to help Elain?

I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.”  “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. (acowar)  - “I’ll help you,” Nesta offered.  But Elain shook her head. “Nuala and Cerridwen will help me.”  Then she was gone–shoulders a little squarer.  - It was three by the time the others went to bed. [...] Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. (acofas)

It’s no coincidence that the characters closest to Elain possess unique powers that complement her own and relate specifically to the elements of Stone Mother. Azriel learned to speak the language of shadow and wind and stone, while the half-wraith twins are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone as @psychee92 discusses here. Their magic likely thrives in thin parts of the world. It also isn't a coincidence that Nesta noticed and wondered this:  

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends. (acosf) 

Their beautiful, wraith-like team has the gifts necessary to traverse the slumbering heart of the earth as easily as foreign courts, which is a hard combination to find and is uniquely suited for Elain’s mission to release the Cauldron and land from the magical chains of the Asteri. Especially since we learn that Bryce uses both blades of the Starborn to free Avallen from its magical chains:

On an exhale, she plunged the weapons into the slits in the eight-pointed star. The small one for the knife. The larger one for the sword.

And like a key turning in a lock, they released what lay beneath. (hofas)

They even help Bryce rid the land of the Asteri and their core of power, creating a larger void to devour the one the Asteri set in place. Back in acowar, as many have noticed, Sarah already planted this moment between Azriel and Elain:

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection…that knife. (acowar)

She and Azriel seem to represent the balance of light and dark in the Starsword and Truth-Teller, as @merymoonbeam theorized. The Starborn blade—the one belonging to Enalius—is a bridge of connection between them. Bryce leaves the Starsword (Gwydion) and Truth-Teller with Nesta, encouraging her to learn about her connection to the Starborn (eight-pointed star). That might mean the Archeron Starborn connection may happen after all. I could see Elain wielding those blades when needed, activating their magic as she seemed to do with Truth-Teller, to release the land from its magical chains. It would also be interesting if Elain and Azriel functioned like the Made blades themselves, releasing the Asteri’s chains with their own blend of raw magic, and watching joyously as life blooms in earnest again.

Once they remove the magical chains of the Asteri—on the land and their sacred Cauldron—perhaps we’ll also discover what exists between Elain and Azriel at last: 

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports–likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City–the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. 

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” 

“I’d keep that question from Lucien.” 

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” 

Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies…” (acowar)

@silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, @elriell and others have written extensively about mating bonds, so I won’t discuss that in depth here. Essentially, Feysand and Nessian appear to have bonds that are true in spirit, and they are described as living threads of pure golden light between their souls. 

Thread after thread of pure golden light flowed into him, and he met it with his own. Where those threads wove together, life glowed like starfire, and she had never seen anything more beautiful, felt anything more beautiful. (acosf) 

This living light reminds me of the dawn, which is associated with healing and new beginnings. When Feysand and Nessian bind their souls together in these scenes, the dawn is invoked each time: 

Feysand

…I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world. (acomaf)

Nessian

Cassian roared as he came, and the sound was the summons of a hunt, a symphony, a single clear horn playing as dawn broke over the world. (acosf)

And when Azriel first sees Elain in his bonus chapter, her hair is unbound and she appears like the dawn, gilded in living light on the longest night of the year. 

Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was.

The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

Is it possible that, with Elain’s connection to Wyrd and the land, her own threads of life are similarly chained, or warped? Perhaps when Elain clears away the Asteri’s power, we will finally see the truth blooming between them: threads of golden light twining together in an endless, earthy melody.

#hofas spoilers #hofas #acotar #crossover theories #elain archeron #azriel #nuala and cerridwen #urd goddess #stone mother #mother cauldron fate #forbidden secrets follow up #healing the land #she has the gifts and vision #elriel #elain x azriel #this was written like a fever dream #i may need to reblog more later

[crazyk-imagine]

Baby plus Comments meets Horny Boyfriend

Pairing: Luke Dunphy x Girlfriend!reader

Characters: Luke Dunphy, Girlfriend!reader, Manny Delgado, Gloria Delgado-Pritchett, Jay Pritchett, Claire Dunphy, Phil Dunphy, Haley Dunphy, Alex Dunphy, Mitchell Pritchett, Cameron Tucker, Joe Pritchett

Warnings: Fluff, boys being boys, Manny and Luke being idiots, reader being a sweetheart, characters being potentially ooc, Luke gets jealous easily, Luke is a horny little shit, Phil is still the same nonchalant dad and we love him, mentions of Phil trying to do his magic

Word Count: 404

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

Alex exits the room, and their comments are idiotic per usual. You glance back at the two. "You're both idiots."

Manny nearly gasps, drawing his inner Gloria energy. "I'm offended you would put me in the same category as your boyfriend."

You nearly roll your eyes. "Did either of you notice Joe was in the car with us or outside the door messing with one of your plants?"

Manny and Luke turn to one another, the latter shrugs.

"No, right? That's why Alex was saying those things, not because she's sending mixed signals, it's because your little brother slash young uncle is adorable." You smile, holding your hand out for him. "Come on, baby Joe."

You turn back towards the two once you get the youngin in your arms. "Now, if you'll excuse me, someone needs to clean himself up before his mama comes up here and sees the dirt."

Your boyfriend pouts. "Why does he get your attention?"

You glance back at Luke, "get a baby and maybe you'll be cute."

He smirks, taking a step towards you. "Oh my- Luke no. I'm not going to have a baby with you."

You two turn and see everyone's attention on your conversation. "Oh, great."

"It's not like I made everyone look at us."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"Ay, what happened to Joe?" Gloria asks, seeing how dirty her son is.

"He decided to take a deep dive into one of the plants upstairs. So, I was going to see what I could clean up before determining if he needs a bath yet or not."

"That's so nice of you, thank you."

"Mr. Dunphy?"

"How many times have I told you to call me, Phil?"

"When I'm not mad at your son, we'll talk."

"But your never not mad at him."

You thin your lips, raise your brows, and tilt your head as if to say I told you so.

He sighs, looking up at his son. "Luke?"

The teen avoids making eye contact with anyone.

"He needs to go out and do something with himself."

"Ah, I got it. He needs to practice his magic."

An evil smirk dances across your lips. "Exactly. See you, baby."

"Wait- no." His shoulders slump as your figure disappears into the bathroom.

"Really, Luke? Here of all places?" Claire shakes her head.

He shrugs, "what can I say? She's hot."

Haley and Alex roll their eyes.

#modern family #modern family imagine #modern family imagines #modern family fanfic #modern family fanfiction #luke dunphy x reader #luke dunphy #luke dunphy imagine #luke dunphy imagines #luke dunphy fanfiction #luke dunphy fanfic #luke dunphy x you #luke dunphy x female reader #luke dunphy x female!reader #luke dunphy x girlfriend reader #luke dunphy x girlfriend!reader #crazyk-imagine

[ghouljams]

My brain does weird things. Anyways, I think Love would steal Liebling’s seed (assuming she didn’t throw it out) and plant it for her. That just seems like a very Love thing to do.

This is really dubiously canon... Love had sticky fingers and her luck finally runs out, or does it?

You stare at the sprout pushing its way out of the dirt in your little terracotta pot. You spritz it with water, and watch the leaves curl happily. Like fingers.

"Hey Si?" You call over your shoulder. You've made some... well you hesitate to call them bad, but questionable decisions in your life. Usually your luck carries you through, but you think it may be running out on this particular gamble.

Simon hums from the couch, half listening as he sketches the monarch wing you'd found into your journal. You don't know if this is really worth his attention. You don't really know what it is. You sort of... stole it.

"Is it stealing if it was technically trash?" You ask, without really thinking. Simon's sketching stops, and he turns to look over the back of the couch.

"What did you steal?"

"Weird seed the bestie didn't want." You poke one of the leaves, letting it wrap around your finger. That gets Simon's attention. He's quick to get off the couch and over to you, pulling your finger out of the plant's grip.

"Christ Love, is that what you've been nursing all week?" Simon looks over your hand with concern, you nod until he kisses your palm giving it the all clear.

"What is it?" You poke Simon's cheek to get your hand back. He lets you go to pick up the pot and inspect the new growth.

"No clue," he tells you, "did, uh- shit-"

"Lieb."

"Works well enough," Simon pokes at the plant, watching the leaves move, "Did she tell you want it was?" You shake your head. He pinches a leaf between his fingers, inspecting it. "Doesn't look dangerous."

"Then I'll keep watering it." Simon shakes his head but settled the pot back on the windowsill.

"We'll keep an eye on it."

"We?" Simon flashes you half a smile, you return it in full force, "I love when we do stupid stuff together."

-

You don't know how long it's supposed to take flowers to grow, or even how they're supposed to grow, but it feels like this is going really weird.

You stare at the giant flower bud that's blossomed in your little terracotta pot. It sort of reminds you of a cabbage. It feels like a rose when you pet it, the petals under your fingers silky and soft. You don't know quite what to do with it. Simon sets a cup of tea next to your head where you're resting it against the windowsill.

"Looking good Love," You hum at the kiss he presses against the top of your head, "How's the cabbage?"

"She's fine, still overgrown and weird." You sit up, grabbing your mug and letting Simon take over the daily plant inspection.

"Doesn't look deadly yet."

"Yet."

"Yet," he agrees. You both sip your morning cup and stare at your poor decision making skills.

"You haven't put any magic in it to make it big." You confirm for the thousandth time.

"Not a drop, gardener must've dreamt this up." He reminds you, also for the thousandth time.

"Maybe we can enter it in a gardening fair or-"

Simon yanks you away from the bud as the petals quiver and bloom. You're very quickly put behind your very tense partner, forced to look around him at whatever is going on. You've never seen a flower open up that fast, but you think gravity must be doing the lions share of work. The actual rose is huge, far bigger than the bud would've suggested, and heavy enough to finally break the little pot it had been growing in.

Simon is faster than you, grabbing the flower as it's weight causes it to tumble off the windowsill. You tense, your breath caught as you wait for him to do anything, move any muscle.

"What? What is it?" You whisper after too long a moment without a breath.

"I don't-" He mumbles, catching the end of his sentence behind his teeth so he can curse, "Shit."

You peak over his shoulder, hoping you won't see your weird plant smashed to bits. Instead you stare down at a baby. The smallest thing you've ever seen cradled gently in Simon's arms, blinking big brown eyes and white lashes up at both of you. Your heart swells.

"Holy shit," you breath, watching it yawn and wiggle in its rose petal wrap. It's perfect little nose scrunches with the motion and you need a second to adjust to how cute that is. "Did we do that?" You press closer against Simon's back, and reach to stroke your fingers over the downy hair on the baby's head, "I mean she's got your eyes, it's gotta be-"

"I don't know," Simon mumbles.

"Well what are we supposed to-"

"I don't know!" He snaps, and you finally look at him. At the absolutely confusion and concern dripping from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. You've never seen him cry before, well not like this at least.

"Give her to me," You tell him, sitting back and holding your arms out, he looks unsure. "Please Simon," you soften the ask, pulling a tether so he knows you're sure. He's so careful, if a little clumsy. You have to adjust his hold as he's passing the infant to you and it seems like he's watching the way you shift her in your arms for his own reference later. You hold the baby close against your chest, feeling that strange comfortable purr rise in your throat as she blinks her big eyes closed.

"What the fuck do we do?" Simon whisper yells at you.

"Call Soap right the fuck now and text Lieb that I'm gonna fucking kill her," you coo at the dozing baby in your arms. Simon nod and scrambles to find both your phones.

#fae!Ghost #oc: love #this is fluff for them since they didnt get to experience changelings #idk do we wanna give the disaster couple a baby? #i feel like Love would be the mom from mean girls? like 'if youre gonna drink id rather you do it in the house' #the cool mom that everyone thinks is insane #she is kinda insane tho #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost #ghost mwii #cod x reader #x reader #Ghost crying because he doesnt know what to do in the most extreme way anyone has ever not known what to do #i do think hed cry over his and Love's kid though #and i think those could potentially be tears of joy at having a baby with Love even if neither of them know how it happened

[archangeldyke-all]

dairy farmer!Sevika plowing her strawberry farmer wife? 😣

(outside sex maybe 👀)

YESSSS i love them (read part 1 here!)

men and minors dni

sevika moved you into her house about a week into you guys dating.

over the years, you and sevika slowly converted your old house to a little shop, where you sell jams and strawberries and eggs and honey and mead, and sevika sells wool and sweaters and milk and cheese.

you guys got married on your one year anniversary.

sure, it's fast, but you and sevika had been friends for years before dating, and you were both certain that you were soulmates.

it's been paradise ever since.

sure, you still have every day headaches.

the sheep are just as rambunctious as ever, escaping whenever they find a fault in sevika's fencing. you have good and bad harvest seasons, some years, the strawberries are just a little more tart than usual.

but, overall, you're happy.

especially in moments like this.

sevika finds you in your strawberry patch, helping the vines climb up their trellises, sneaking a few berries for yourself as a snack.

you smile the second you see her approaching.

she's got some dirt on her cheek, her overalls muddy, a little puff of wool in her hair. you laugh as she approaches you, reaching up to wipe the dirt from her cheek and brush the wool out of her hair.

"hi, hot stuff." you say. sevika grins, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"hi sweet thing." she replies, swooping in for a kiss. you giggle against her, and she swipes her tongue out to lick your lips.

"you taste like strawberries." she says.

"that's so unusual!" you say. she snorts and rolls her eyes.

"fuck off." she says, not pulling away from you in the slightest. you smirk at her.

"what's up?" you ask. you assume she's tracked you down for some help wrangling the sheep-- it is shearing season, afterall, and it tends to be a two man job. sevika smirks at you.

"i'm all done for the morning." she says. you raise an eyebrow at her. "was wondering if you needed any help over here." she says. you give her a skeptical look.

"you were, huh?" you ask, knowing just how boring sevika finds your strawberry plants. she giggles guiltily.

"well..." she says, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand to her crotch. you gasp, realizing sevika's strapped up, then grin. "there might've been other reasons i came to see you." she says. you laugh.

"i can see that." you say, slowly palming her bulge. a blush works up her cheeks as you tease her. "'d you put this on this morning or 'd you just slip it on now?" you ask. sevika smirks.

"saw you bendin' over about fifteen minutes and got struck with inspiration." she says.

you burst into laughter, tugging sevika in to kiss her again. she hums, her hands trailing down to palm your ass.

you reach up to undo the straps of her overalls, letting the top fall down, sneaking your hands up her wife pleaser to palm her tits. she hums against you.

"so?" she asks, pulling away with a gasp. you smile.

"not on the strawberries. i'm not crushing any more plants because your horny ass couldn't wait until we got outta the field." you say. sevika just laughs, then ducks down to hoist you over her shoulder.

you squeal as she jogs out of your strawberry patch, setting you down under the willow tree on the edge of your property, pinning you against it, tugging at your jeans.

she gets you naked in a flash, tripping over herself as she tries to pull her overalls off over her boots. you laugh and reach out to steady her, and she smiles shyly up at you.

"thanks, baby." she says. you smile and lean forward to kiss her nose.

"i'm not puttin' my bare ass on the muddy ground, y'know." you say. sevika laughs.

"i figured. princess." she teases. you roll your eyes.

"just 'cause i don't like wrestling in the dirt with the sheep doesn't mean--"

sevika cuts you off with a kiss, pushing you back against the trunk of the tree. you sigh, slinging your arms over her shoulders.

"i love you." sevika mumbles against your lips, nipping you when you open your mouth to respond. you huff and push at her shoudlers and she pulls away with a smile.

"i love you too." you say. sevika melts, her head falling forward to rest her forehead against yours. you push at her shoulders, getting her to kneel, and open your legs. "now get me wet." you command.

sevika grins as she kneels, not caring about the mud dirtying her knees, and hooks one of your legs over her shoulder, wasting no time diving forward to eat you out.

"oh, fuck." you whimper, leaning back against the trunk of the tree as you grab her hair. sevika hums against you, sucking on your clit, before leaning down to work her tongue inside you, her nose grinding against your clit. "you got such a good mouth, baby." you say. sevika smirks up at you and you laugh down at her. "couldn't help yourself, huh?" you ask. "'y had me this morning-- it's only been a few hours." you say. she laughs against you.

"yeah, but that was my fingers. didn't get to taste you. didn't get to get my cock inside you." she says. you shiver, and sevika presses another kiss against your clit. "plus, you know i like fuckin' outside." she says. you laugh.

"i know."

it's something about the thrill-- you're both the only people on your property, and the chance that someone will ever catch you is nearly impossible, but it is invigorating to feel the wind blow against your naked body, to hear the distant bleating of sevika's sheep, the sound of your ducks quaking in the pond.

sevika's got you close-- your thigh shaking against her face, and she grins up at you, before shoving your leg off her shoulder and jumping to her feet.

"you ready?" she asks, her fingers probing your cunt, feeling how wet you are. you nod, desperate to get her inside you.

"yeah." you say. sevika spits in her palm, then holds it out for you to spit on it too. it gives you butterflies, despite how gross it is, and sevika seems to know it, if the sweet little smile she gives you is anything to go by as she jerks her cock off with her wet hand.

"how do you want it?" she asks. you roll your eyes.

sevika knows how you want it-- it's the same way you always want it when she's fucking you outside. she just laughs and waits for you to answer with an eyebrow raised.

"c'mon sev." you pout, tugging her toward you. she doesn't move, waiting to hear the words from your lips. "fucker." you curse her. she laughs.

"i could spin you around, bend you over?" she offers. you huff and flick her forehead. "or maybe you want to ride me while i lay on the ground?" she asks.

"pick me up." you whisper. sevika smirks.

"oh, yeah?" she asks, like this isn't how she does it every time. "want me to pin you to the tree? fuck you against it?" she asks. you gulp and nod.

"yes." you say. sevika grins.

"and why's that?" she asks. you groan.

"sevika!" you cry.

"tell me." she demands. you roll your eyes, and regret ever telling your wife your dirty secrets.

"i like how strong you are." you whisper. sevika licks her upper teeth, a predatory glint in her eye as she gets in your space, pinning you to the trunk.

"yeah?" she asks. "turns you on?" she asks. you huff.

"i'm never telling you anything again." you say.

sevika just laughs as she grabs your thighs, lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs around her hips. you sigh, clinging to your wife.

"you ready?" she asks, thrusting her strap through your folds. you bite your lip and nod.

"yeah." you whisper. sevika looks up at you to give you a quick kiss, before she looks down between your bodies, slowly guiding her strap inside you.

you sigh, satisfaction flooding your senses as sevika fills you, her body surrounding you, her grip on your thighs bruising. "love you." sevika groans as her hips meet yours. you smile.

"love you too." you whisper.

sevika starts fucking you slowly, timing her thrusts to her deep breaths, intermittently pausing to press a kiss to your lips.

"fuck." you groan. "you're so good." you say. sevika smiles.

"you are too." she says. you snort.

"i'm not really doin' any work." you say. sevika chuckles, ducking down to bite at your tits. you whimper.

"you're doing all the work-- looking good enough to fucking eat-- distracting the shit outta me-- you knew what you were doing wearing those tiny shorts." she says.

"you set my clothes out for me this morning!" you laugh.

sevika just smirks. "i'm fucking brilliant."

she keeps her slow pace-- not wanting to scratch your back up against the bark behind you.

it's a lazy fuck, the day's still young, there's still some dew on the shady parts of your property, and you and sevika have nowhere else to be.

she pauses her thrusting several times just to kiss you.

you scratch at her scalp, loving the way she purrs in your hold.

"fuck." she whispers against you. you hum.

"you close?" you ask. she nods.

"'re you?" she asks. you nod.

"wanna cum with you." you say. her hands on your thighs grip you harder, and she huffs.

"i love you so much." she says. you smile.

"love you too sev." you say, your hand coming down to rub your clit as she continues to fuck you.

sevika starts to whimper the closer she gets, and the sounds drive you fucking crazy, your thighs shaking against her waist.

"oh, shit." you moan. "fuck, i'm gonna--"

"me too." she grunts. "you first." she whispers. you shake your head, focusing on your impending orgasm. "c'mon baby, cum on this cock." she grunts. "fuck-- i can feel you clenchin', i know you're almost there. wanna feel you cum around me." she says.

you gasp and shiver, cumming silently, your nails digging into sevika's shoulders.

"there you go, pretty thing, f-fuck, you look so fuckin' good, shit!" she gasps as she follows you over the edge.

sevika catches her breath against you, and you nuzzle against her shoulder while the world stops spinning.

"fuck, that never gets old." sevika laughs. you snort.

"we should at least do it against a different tree next time." you say. she laughs.

behind her, a suspiciously loud 'baa' sounds out. you lift your gaze to look over her shoulder and groan when you see a few of sevika's sheep wandering over to your field.

"sevika!" you scold, smacking her shoulder. she gently sets you back onto your feet before turning and laughing at the sight of her sheep congregating around your strawberries. "you didn't close the fence?!" you ask. she shrugs.

"was kinda distracted, honey, sorry." she says, pulling her overalls back on. you giggle, helping button her back up, before dressing yourself.

"go get your sheep." you demand. she swoops forward to press a kiss to your lips and you pinch her side.

"you gonna watch?" she asks. you roll your eyes and bite back a smile.

"duh." you whisper as she struts off to wrangle the first sheep, her biceps glistening in the morning sun.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut