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espace--positif · 3 months ago

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After Rain Comes Sunshine

A Zayne x Fem!Reader Fic [Love and Deepspace]

Summary: Zayne invites you to join him on one of his morning runs. Unfortunately (or fortunately), the weather has other plans for the two of you.

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader

Content: Fluff, Pre-relationship, Slow Burn if you squint, MC Reader, Brief description of injury.

WC: ~3.7K

My Masterlist

You stared at the figures on the report in front of you and they stared back in defiance. No matter how many times you plugged the numbers into the UNICORNS program’s interface, it returned either incomplete results or an error. You sighed in defeat and laid back in your chair, staring at the setting sun on the horizon.

Data analysis had never been your strong suit, and the inconsistencies brought on by abnormal Wanderer activity in the area did not make your temporary assignment any easier. The field suited you much better, but you had unfortunately been temporarily pulled from active duty after sustaining an injury while on a mission.

You’d been on nighttime patrol with one of the new Alpha Team recruits in an area where moderate Wanderer activity had been reported when both your watches picked up a large spike in energy fluctuations. Your regrettably green hunt partner had panicked and started blasting at the tree line at the tiniest sign of movement, and an opportunistic Wanderer had jumped at him. You’d pushed him out of the way of what certainly would’ve been a fatal blow, and the Wanderer’s gargantuan claw had embedded itself in your shoulder instead.

You thought that the earful that Captain Jenna had delivered to the poor recruit at debriefing was harsh, but you found that it was nothing compared to the treatment you’d received from Dr. Zayne when you reported to Akso Hospital.

“It’s not a big deal. You should’ve seen the other guy,” you’d tried to joke, lightly and nervously tapping your heel on the side of the examination table after he’d tended to your wound. Instead of the usual chuckle or crack of a smile Zayne would usually give you when you attempted humor, you were met with silence as he picked up a clipboard and busied himself writing.

Ah, yes. You were dealing with ‘Dr. Zayne’ now.

“We, uh, we killed the Wanderer who did this. It was real bloody… is what I’m trying to-”

Your rambling was cut short when he paused his writing and looked up at you, his icy hazel eyes threatening to bore holes through your own.

“You’re not… angry, are you?” you chanced. Though he wasn’t the most outwardly expressive man in the world, even less so when he was in “Doctor” mode, you liked to think that you were attuned to his body language - the slight downturn of his lips, intensity in his eyes, and stiffness of his posture told you that he certainly wasn’t happy.

“I’m pulling you from duty. You’re to report back here in three weeks and I’ll see if you’re fit to be cleared for duty again,” he replied flatly, authoritative gaze still glued to you. You were no stranger to the strictness of the doctor’s orders, but three weeks was pushing it. This was some sort of punishment for your recklessness, you were sure of it.

“Three weeks? Isn’t that a bit much?” you asked while lightly rolling your freshly bandaged shoulder in an attempt to prove the levity of the injury.

Zayne narrowed his eyes, then proceeded to stow his pen into his white coat pocket, and you instantly knew that a hefty lecture was on its way.

“Exercising an injured muscle before it’s fully healed can lead to slowed healing and permanent damage. And next time, you’d do well to avoid being so reckless on the field. Come to think of it, perhaps a month of rest will be needed to ensure proper healing.”

And with that, he had shut down any possibility for a compromise, especially considering you didn’t have the expertise to dispute his diagnosis. Besides, when he got like this, you knew better than to argue, lest he extend your banishment from duty to an unreasonably longer amount of time.

—

This was a week and a half ago, meaning that you’d only served half your sentence. The worst part about being under such strict orders was how cooped up you felt. As perilous as your Alpha Team assignment was, you’d always enjoyed being able to visit different parts of the city, sometimes even venturing further. You’d often explore and find new restaurants and cafés to try out in the vicinity of your mission area on the way home.

But the best part about finding these new places was getting to share them with a certain someone who happened to share your passion for culinary experiences. You’d write down the most notable new place you’d discovered after each assignment in a new area, and it had become a sort of ritual for the both of you to visit and rate each place every weekend.

Ironically, that certain someone also happened to be your doctor, and he was the reason why you hadn’t partaken in your post-mission reward in a week and a half, even staying in last weekend. Sure, you could always initiate a weekend outing, but you hadn’t left your neighborhood in days, and your list of new places to try out was barren as a result. Just as you were considering whether you’d be able to bargain with Zayne to get cleared for duty earlier than scheduled, your phone chimed with a text notification.

It was as though he’d read your mind from a distance.

Good afternoon. How are you feeling?

Seizing your opening, you hastily sent back a message.

feeling good, my shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore. honestly! just feels stiff. but maybe I’m at risk for a vitamin D deficiency since I can’t go out to missions anymore :P

Three dots illuminated his side of the conversation, then swiftly disappeared. He wasn’t taking the bait. You furiously typed another message, this time going straight to the point.

well, as my doctor, don’t you think that’s concerning? maybe I can come by tomorrow and check if I can get cleared early haha

It was worth a shot, you told yourself, but your strategy could very well backfire seeing as off-duty Zayne was prone to responding to your half-jokes with equal amounts of seriousness and teasing, especially in your text conversations where the tone was constantly blurred. He might flat-out refuse, or even extend your suspension from duty just because you’d dared ask, and just because he could. But the dizzying figures side-eyeing you from your computer screen and the stale indoor air that had been your only companion for the past few days had evidently compelled you to risk it all.

His almost immediate answer blipped on your screen.

No.

Then three dots. You gulped.

But if you’re feeling cooped up, why don’t you join me for my morning run tomorrow? Running is a good way to get moderate exercise and won’t impact your shoulder healing at this point.

Your heartbeat quickened ever so slightly. Was Zayne really inviting you on one of his morning runs? He’d spoken about those like they were a ritual, and so the open and sudden invitation, though not unwelcome, was surprising. It wasn’t as glamorous as a restaurant outing, but it was an opportunity to spend time with him. And to touch some grass and breathe some fresh air, of course. Because that’s what this was about.

A smile crept up your face as you typed your reply.

yeah! that sounds good. see you tomorrow!

—

This is how you ended up lacing up your running shoes at the very crack of dawn, surrounded by nothing but the luscious greenery that framed the gravel path you stood on. You would have appreciated it much more if it wasn’t 5:45 AM and you had something to look forward to other than a grueling marathon.

Your eyes drifted towards your running companion, Zayne, who was completing a stretching routine a few feet away. You absently emulated his movements as your eyes caught onto his hulking arms, your gaze tracing every curvature of his taut muscles through the ribbed fabric of his black long-sleeve shirt.

Perhaps you did have something to look forward to after all.

He must have caught you staring, as his movements halted and you were met with a quizzical look. You quickly looked away, heat creeping up your cheeks, and looked for something to say, anything, to break the silence.

“So you run here every day, huh?” you said, almost too fast. “It’s beautiful, really.”

“Not every day,” Zayne’s deep voice echoed through the tranquil canopy of trees. “I usually run a circuit through the city, close to the hospital. But for today, I wanted to make sure you…”

He trailed off and you turned to face him once more. This time, he averted his eyes and seemed suddenly preoccupied with the nothingness in the tree line.

“Wanted to make sure I… what?” you prompted.

“Exposure to nature has been proven to be conducive to healing and improve patient outcomes.”

There it was, the familiar doctor-patient wall that Zayne would employ against you whenever either of you came close to acknowledging whatever it was that budded between the two of you. Yet you’d seen him chip away at it far too many times during your weekend outings, and you’d also been known to jump at any opportunity to deal some damage to it whenever you could. Even so, the status quo didn’t bother you, as long as it meant he would still be around. A permanent fixture in your life.

“Hmmm,” you hummed in response, trying to find a witty rebuttal. When the words failed you, you simply yelled out: “Well, improve this! Race you to the end!”

And with that, you dashed ahead, leaving Zayne behind, no doubt shaking his head at your antics.

—

Your amusement was quite short-lived, as your increasingly aching legs reminded you why you’d always hated cardio and prioritized strength training. You’d clearly bitten off more than you could chew, but you were also notoriously stubborn, and so your feet begrudgingly crunched on the gravel at a regular rhythm as Zayne matched your unrelenting speed, though he made it seem effortless.

“Sure you don’t want to slow down?” you heard him ask as he ran long strides beside you, not even remotely out of breath.

“Nope,” you huffed. Your stubbornness aside, you especially didn’t want to slow him down after he’d so graciously invited you into this part of his life. “Besides… we’re almost there… right?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Not in the slightest. We’re about halfway through the route.”

“Wha-” the sound of surprise escaped your lips before you could hold it in. At this point, the sun had completely risen, though roiling clouds had begun to obscure it. Surely you should have completed more than half of the run by now, right?

You’d clearly figured wrong. The drive that had been powering you through your unsustainable pace evaporated in an instant and you skidded to a halt. With your hands on your knees, you attempted to catch your breath and soothe the burning in your calves. Embarrassment be damned, this run was going to be the end of you if you didn’t take a break right this instant.

You felt a hand softly touch the small of your back, urging you forward.

“Don’t stop so suddenly, just keep walking and breathing.”

“R-right,” you managed between exhales.

You tried steadying your breathing as you both resumed walking, but the warmth of Zayne’s body against yours made the endeavor much harder than it had to be. His large hand remained on your back, gently guiding you forward and lightening the load on your sore legs. The cooling breeze that dried the beads of sweat on your brow was a welcome presence as you felt yourself feeling warmer and warmer by the minute.

After what felt like hours, your heart was thankfully no longer threatening to burst from your chest, and the painful ache in your legs had dulled. You discreetly looked up at Zayne only to find him scanning the tree line with a serious expression on his face. No matter where you went, he was always as alert and cautious as ever. You’d called him out on it once during one of your weekend outings, and he’d answered something ominous along the lines of “it’s better to be overprepared than taken off guard.”

Despite your teasing, however, his vigilance was always a welcoming sight. You could allow yourself to relax whenever the two of you were together - it was a far cry from the constant alertness your missions forced you to adopt. His presence alone made you feel safer than you’d ever care to admit, and his rare but soothing touches seemed to melt your worries away. In little moments like these, you were afforded the luxury of simply living in the present.

Your steps became light as your attention drifted to a patch of bright blue and purple flowers that neatly adorned the upcoming bend in the path, perfectly framing it on both sides, and you realized that this was nice. The breeze lightly grazed your skin and you were thankful for its refreshing chill until it suddenly picked up and that very chill began to creep into your bones. You unconsciously inched closer to Zayne, your head pressed up against the side of his chest.

“We should head back,” he said, voice warmly rumbling against your ear. “It looks like it might…”

Raindrops slowly plipped and plopped against the gravel, grass, and leaves. Zayne halted both your movements and held his free hand up, as if to gauge the magnitude of the rain that would follow. He didn’t need to keep it up long, as the rain quickly escalated to a downpour, violently drenching you both in an instant.

You stared at the wet ground in disbelief. You normally didn’t mind the rain, but this was more than just rain - it was a veritable storm. And now your run would definitely have to be cut short. So much for a nice moment.

The two of you resumed your run, this time in the opposite direction, headed towards the forest’s entrance. The brief respite you’d just concluded evidently hadn’t done much to regenerate your energy and vigor, as you found yourself lagging behind Zayne as the rain and wind buffeted your body. Your legs burned once more, and you cursed yourself for pretending to stretch while ogling your running partner earlier instead of actually stretching.

You slowed to a halt, trying to give your legs a break, but knowing very well that once you stopped it’d only get harder to get moving again. But while a little bit of rain wouldn’t kill you, keeping up this pace when you’d already foolishly spent all of your energy in the first half of your run very well might.

You figured you should tell Zayne not to wait for you, that you’d catch up eventually, and inhaled sharply so your voice would carry from your crouched form through the roaring storm. But before you could utter a word, two strong arms nestled against you and you were suddenly staring at the lopsided tree line. Zayne had deftly scooped you up and resumed jogging without skipping a beat.

You instinctively braced yourself by placing your palm on his chest and looked up at him, bewildered. It took you a moment to compute what was happening, but once you did, heat warmed your face despite the chilling rain and wind.

You began to protest. “Zayne, you don’t need to… I can just catch up with you!”

“This forest will flood with the two of us in it if we keep up with your pace,” he replied, light mirth permeating his voice.

You huffed. Your arrogance and poor performance at cardiovascular exercise had been noted and you’d likely never hear the end of it - as serious and stern as Zayne presented himself, he’d always remember the smallest details when they presented an opportunity to tease you later on. Still, in an attempt to save the remainder of your dignity, you pressed on.

“No, but, you’ll get tired carrying me around!”

“It’s nothing. If anything, I’ll get to finish my workout,” he said, wet strands of dark hair dancing along to the rhythm of his light jog.

And thus, you resigned yourself to being carried out of the very workout you’d signed up for. When enough of your embarrassment had fizzled away, your mind began to drift away from the downpour and hone in on the steady thumping of Zayne’s heartbeat, which you could feel vibrating through your palm and reverberating throughout your whole body. The unwavering, rhythmic beats drew you to that same sense of safety you’d felt earlier, and so many times before. You found that the rain and the cold didn’t bite as harshly when you focused on the warmth of his body, the strength of his heartbeat, and the steady yet light bounce of his footsteps.

And eventually, you found that you’d stopped caring about the weather altogether.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

—

By the time you finally rejoined civilization, the rain had let up to a light drizzle. You’d found refuge in a small café, one of the first you’d visited together ever since starting your weekend tradition. At this time of day, it was luckily not too busy. They’d graciously offered you a table even though you were sopping wet, and you busied yourself drying off as best as you could with the copious amount of paper towels the server had offered you while Zayne ordered warm drinks for both of you.

When he returned from the counter with two cups in hand, soaking wet, hair still dripping, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. The juxtaposition of this man’s calm demeanor with his disheveled appearance, combined with the ridiculous circumstances amused you to no end.

Zayne raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” he asked as he placed down the cups.

“Nothing. It’s just…” you scoured your brain for a way to get back at him for his comments on your pace earlier. “You’d think a man would check the weather before going on a run, you know?”

A hint of a smile played on his lips, and he sighed in mock exasperation as he sat across from you. “And you’d think a hunter would be able to run for more than five minutes in a row,” he quipped back. “Am I going to have to add mandatory cardiovascular training to your health plan?”

You definitely would never hear the end of this.

You threw your hands up, feigning defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll manage my pace better next time.”

You grasped your cup, the warm ceramic soothing your freezing hands. “But I’m just surprised that someone like you could just get caught out in the rain like that. Didn’t you once tell me about how being overprepared is the key to all your problems or something like that?”

“‘If you’re not overprepared, you’re underprepared,’ was the quote,” he replied as he slicked back his wet hair. You shifted your gaze to the ripples in your cup to stop yourself from staring. “And you’re right, I should’ve looked at the forecast before I dragged you out there. Or at the very least, I should have stuck to my normal route. We likely would’ve found shelter faster. I’m sorry, it’s my fault we ended up like this.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for!” you replied hastily. “I didn’t mean to imply that at all. I had fun today, and I got to breathe some fresh air, get some exercise in… I’m gonna be honest, even though it rained on our parade, I’m really glad you invited me to run with you.”

You beamed as you finished your sentence, unable to hide your genuine contentment. You meant every word of it. In contrast to the gloomy weather outside, your mood had been brightened by this ordeal. As strange as it sounded, you were almost glad for the rain which had brought you closer together in more ways than one.

Zayne’s intense gaze settled on you, as if he was trying to read your mind. This time, you didn’t look away. “Is that so?” he started. “Then allow me to be honest as well. I neglected to look at the weather forecast because I just wanted to get you out of your apartment. You sounded pent up, and I wanted to cheer you up.”

You felt a comfortable warmth settle within you, and you knew you couldn’t ascribe it to the coffee alone. “Thank you,” you replied, ignoring the heat that was surely visible in your cheeks. “I was pent up. Data analysis was driving me crazy, I hadn’t left the house in days since my assignment is remote, and I missed you.”

Perhaps you were feeling a little too comfortable, for you blurted out the words without thinking. Well, it was too late now. You clumsily took a sip from your cup and set it back down with an unceremonious clang.

“I missed you too,” he replied, voice gentle and low. When you peered up from your cup to face him, he suddenly seemed more interested in the weather again, looking out the window at the slowly clearing skies. He cleared his throat unceremoniously and continued: “I missed the opportunity to discover another restaurant with you this past weekend. My palate has come to expect variety every Saturday, you know.”

You smiled as you freely took in his flustered expression, a rare occurrence for the brilliant and ever-composed Dr. Zayne. You greedily gulped your coffee before it got cold, and reminded him to do the same, which seemed to push him back to his normal level of composure. The two of you spent the remainder of the morning excitedly discussing the culinary potential of your next mission destination in another week and a half.

Tonight, as you reminisced on the day’s events, you could rejoice, for the wall that neither of you had built but both of you had reluctantly maintained over the years had lost another brick. It wouldn’t be long before it crumbled to dust entirely, of that you were sure. In the meantime, you’d gladly content yourself with living in the present, in the moment, in the warmth and safety of Zayne’s unwavering presence.

Note: Hello! I can’t believe my first fic in YEARS is for a game I started playing 4 days ago, but L&DS and Zayne have literally taken over my life so I had no choice. This is also my first 'x reader' fic EVER so I’m kinda nervous, but I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Thank you to @pmpmyread for proofreading!

#love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace zayne #l&ds zayne #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne fluff #li shen #l&ds x reader #espace--positif

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earthtooz · 1 year ago

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sfw/suggestive, tooth-rotting fluff, gn!reader x lovesick!jing yuan, dialogue heavy, two idiots in love.

jing yuan is in the gardens again.

as magnificent the sight of your beloved basking in the luofu sun is, you can’t help the tinge of jealousy that tugs at your heartstrings, for he is spending too much time with the birds again.

of course, it feels redundant to be jealous over birds, but, your lover is a busy man and you sometimes wonder if the birds adore him more.

the fight for his time and attention feels like a losing battle.

as if sensing your stare and presence, the white-haired general turns around so that his back is no longer towards you. on his hand, shoulders, and head are several perched birds who have sensed him, and like magnets, flocked to his company.

“beloved,” he greets with a beautiful smile, setting the bird on his hand on his shoulder before he stalks gracefully towards you. before you can say anything, jing yuan cups your face in his hands and raises it, causing you to look straight into his inquisitive golden eyes. “you’re pouting. what’s the matter?”

you feel your heart expand at the concern of your fiancé, but you brush him off gently and jing yuan tilts his head to the side in confusion. “nothing’s the matter,” you say.

“dear, is everything okay?” he asks once more.

you cross your arms, partly as a response to his question and majorly because you need to stand your ground against him. but how on xianzhou are you supposed to stand your ground when the man in front of you is the arbiter-general, jing yuan?

he is also so beautiful, you might cry.

as your partner looks at you with his golden gaze of concern and attentiveness, your facade melts away, leaving behind someone so helplessly in love.

“you are spending far too much time with the birds again,” you mutter through a sigh, unable to stop embarrassment from creeping into your head from the admission.

jing yuan laughs. the sound is hearty and like velvet to your ears.

you wonder when your heart will stop skipping a beat around him. after all this time together, he still makes you feel young.

“i can not believe you are laughing!” you huff, the growing smile on your face betraying you.

“i apologise. i just- i thought you were upset over a serious matter.”

you feign a gasp, hand flying to your chest. “how utterly dismissive of you, general. i shall be on my way now then seeing-”

he pulls you into him in one, swift movement, the birds previously perched on him flocking to the trees as a result of the sudden force.

“i beg of you, please do not go,” the general asks smoothly and lowly, “i missed you.”

“you saw me at dawn and kept me until after the starting hour of my schedule.”

“that was far too long ago, and you did not accompany me for a game of starchess and tea at noon. what was the matter?”

you freely wrap your arms around his neck, fulfilling his waiting need for your grounding embrace that squeezes motivation and life back into him. “a few meetings ran over time with the officials. i apologise, i received all of your impatient messages only afterwards.”

he frowns. “i cannot fault you then. duty waits for no one.”

“correct, and especially not you, general,” you scold and jing yuan merely looks at you with innocently curious eyes, a smirk beginning to dance along his lips. “i drop by your work quarters expecting to see you busy and yet, i find you busy frolicking with the birds, have you no agency?”

your words, although harsh, do not match the airiness and teasing of your tone. jing yuan always finds himself enthralled at the banter you sustain with him, unable to resist joining the dance every time.

“why? would you prefer me to ‘frolick’ with you?” he asks, completely demure as he drawls out the words in his trademark lazy tone.

you push him away, retreating as if he was a lick of fire that had burned you. he chases after you regardless, laughing loudly as you walk away and back inside his office.

“please save any inappropriate discussions when we are off work, general,” you lecture playfully, jing yuan’s footsteps heavy behind you.

“i apologise for my remark, please, my love, do not leave,” he requests, mirth laced in his voice.

his hand catches your wrist and you turn around to face him, only for the two of you to end up in a fit of laughter, and it feels too right- too easy that he is the man you are in love with. when the two of you have calmed, the white-haired raises your hand to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on the back whilst maintaining eye contact and this feels suspiciously like forever.

“i missed you,” he says.

“so you have told me,” you say.

“i ask you work in my office for the rest of the day.”

“you will not allow me to get any work done.”

he intertwines your hand with his, “i will behave. i promise.”

“alarming that you need to promise me that.”

“my word means a lot. i am merely adding emphasis, darling.”

“i refuse. i shall see you at dusk.”

“but that is too long away.”

“you have lived for centuries. what is two hours?” you ask.

“torture when it is without you, my love.”

your heart beats wildly. “you will survive,” you mutter, feigning indifference to your lover’s dramatics.

“yes, but, you will lose me to the birds again.”

“am i that replaceable?” you question. as if on queue, a feathered creature emerges from jing yuan’s hair, chirping happily at the mention of its name. you sigh, not having it in you to be upset when the sparrow jumps to your shoulder instead.

jing yuan waves his hand in front of the bird gently, commanding for it to leave, and it does, flying out of the open windows and into the garden of his quarters.

“i confess to my mistake,” mutters the cloud knight who traces a thumb along your jaw affectionately, “nothing in the universe could compare to you.”

you smile, leaning in to his touch. “i’m glad.”

with that, you seal your lips against his in a fleeting kiss, one that steals his breath and fills him with endless bouts of love and adoration. jing yuan doesn’t have enough time to respond before you’re pulling away, taking a piece of his heart with you.

“that was not fair,” he murmurs, leaning in for a longer taste of heaven; something you don’t grant him, stepping aside to avoid his touch.

“later. when you have completed your duties.”

the furrow of his nose tells you that he’s discontent with your demand. "if you are going to hinder me from seeing you for the next few hours, then can i not have a kiss in compensation?"

"no. all compensation will be given after hours."

"all compensation? after hours?" the white-haired parrots.

you turn on your heel to leave. he chases after you.

#MID TBH.#jing yuan x reader #jing yuan fluff #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #jing yuan x reader fluff #jing yuan x gn reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader

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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago

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Hey, if you're ever feeling awful because you're super overwhelmed by the news, too overwhelmed to do anything, but you feel like you can't stop without being a horrible person who's just sticking their head in the sand...

Try thinking of it this way:

Maybe the moral thing to do actually IS to never look at the news...

so that you have the energy and will and lack of huge, petrifying fear needed to help

We've seen over and over again, especially in the climate movement, how often it's small, local efforts at making a difference that really start to change things

There's no moral value to being burned out and depressed.

Yes, knowing what's going on in your state/country/the world is good if it's something you can actually sustain

But if you have to choose between following the news/doomscrolling/etc. and actually having the energy to help?

I think that in the vast majority of situations, morally, you SHOULD choose to do something to help

Showing up to your city council meetings, or cleaning up trash in your neighborhood, or volunteering at a food pantry, or registering people to vote, or joining the underground abortion pill network, or doing a fundraiser for bipoc-led nonprofits, or mailing books to people in prison, or seedbombing native grasses, or phone-banking for a nonprofit you care about, or building benches and leaving them at bus stops, or knitting hats and giving them to unhoused people to stay warm, or starting a community garden, or sponsoring refugees for immigration, or taking a stand at school board meetings, or, or, or

all do infinitely more to help other people than doomscrolling and sharing depressing news posts ever will

#not news #me #hope #hopeposting #hope posting #activism #doomscrolling

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dandelionsresilience · 3 months ago

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Good News - August 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!

1. Smart hives and dancing robot bees could boost sustainable beekeeping

“[Researchers] developed a digital comb—a thin circuit board equipped with various sensors around which bees build their combs. Several of these in each hive can then transmit data to researchers, providing real-time monitoring. [… Digital comb] can [also] be activated to heat up certain parts of a beehive […] to keep the bees warm during the winter[…. N]ot only have [honeybee] colonies reacted positively, but swarm intelligence responds to the temperature changes by reducing the bees' own heat production, helping them save energy.”

2. Babirusa pigs born at London Zoo for first time

“Thanks to their gnarly tusks […] and hairless bodies, the pigs are often called "rat pigs" or "demon pigs” in their native Indonesia[….] “[The piglets] are already looking really strong and have so much energy - scampering around their home and chasing each other - it’s a joy to watch. They’re quite easy to tell apart thanks to their individual hair styles - one has a head of fuzzy red hair, while its sibling has a tuft of dark brown hair.””

3. 6,000 sheep will soon be grazing on 10,000 acres of Texas solar fields

“The animals are more efficient than lawn mowers, since they can get into the nooks and crannies under panel arrays[….] Mowing is also more likely to kick up rocks or other debris, damaging panels that then must be repaired, adding to costs. Agrivoltaics projects involving sheep have been shown to improve the quality of the soil, since their manure is a natural fertilizer. […] Using sheep instead of mowers also cuts down on fossil fuel use, while allowing native plants to mature and bloom.”

4. Florida is building the world's largest environmental restoration project

“Florida is embarking on an ambitious ecological restoration project in the Everglades: building a reservoir large enough to secure the state's water supply. […] As well as protecting the drinking water of South Floridians, the reservoir is also intended to dramatically reduce the algae-causing discharges that have previously shut down beaches and caused mass fish die-offs.”

5. The Right to Repair Movement Continues to Accelerate

“Consumers can now demand that manufacturers repair products [including mobile phones….] The liability period for product defects is extended by 12 months after repair, incentivising repairs over replacements. [… M]anufacturers may need to redesign products for easier disassembly, repair, and durability. This could include adopting modular designs, standardizing parts, and developing diagnostic tools for assessing the health of a particular product. In the long run, this could ultimately bring down both manufacturing and repair costs.”

6. Federal Judge Rules Trans Teen Can Play Soccer Just In Time For Her To Attend First Practice

“Today, standing in front of a courtroom, attorneys for Parker Tirrell and Iris Turmelle, two transgender girls, won an emergency temporary restraining order allowing Tirrell to continue playing soccer with her friends. […] Tirrell joined her soccer team last year and received full support from her teammates, who, according to the filing, are her biggest source of emotional support and acceptance.”

7. Pilot study uses recycled glass to grow plants for salsa ingredients

“"We're trying to reduce landfill waste at the same time as growing edible vegetables," says Andrea Quezada, a chemistry graduate student[….] Early results suggest that the plants grown in recyclable glass have faster growth rates and retain more water compared to those grown in 100% traditional soil. [… T]he pots that included any amount of recyclable glass [also] didn't have any fungal growth.”

8. Feds announce funding push for ropeless fishing gear that spares rare whales

“Federal fishing managers are promoting the use of ropeless gear in the lobster and crab fishing industries because of the plight of North Atlantic right whales. […] Lobster fishing is typically performed with traps on the ocean bottom that are connected to the surface via a vertical line. In ropeless fishing methods, fishermen use systems such an inflatable lift bag that brings the trap to the surface.”

9. Solar farms can benefit nature and boost biodiversity. Here’s how

“[… M]anaging solar farms as wildflower meadows can benefit bumblebee foraging and nesting, while larger solar farms can increase pollinator densities in surrounding landscapes[….] Solar farms have been found to boost the diversity and abundance of certain plants, invertebrates and birds, compared to that on farmland, if solar panels are integrated with vegetation, even in urban areas.”

10. National Wildlife Federation Forms Tribal Advisory Council to Guide Conservation Initiatives, Partnerships

“The council will provide expertise and consultation related to respecting Indigenous Knowledges; wildlife and natural resources; Indian law and policy; Free, Prior and Informed Consent[… as well as] help ensure the Federation’s actions honor and respect the experiences and sovereignty of Indigenous partners.”

August 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

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thedansemacabres · 10 months ago

Text

Introduction To Supporting Sustainable Agriculture For Witches and Pagans

[ID: An image of yellow grain stocks, soon to be harvested. The several stocks reach towards a blurred open sky, focusing the camera on he grains themselves. The leaves of the grains are green and the cereals are exposed].

PAGANISM AND WITCHCRAFT ARE MOVEMENTS WITHIN A SELF-DESTRUCTIVE CAPITALIST SOCIETY. As the world becomes more aware of the importance of sustainability, so does the duty of humanity to uphold the idea of the steward, stemming from various indigenous worldviews, in the modern era. I make this small introduction as a viticulturist working towards organic and environmentally friendly grape production. I also do work on a food farm, as a second job—a regenerative farm, so I suppose that is my qualifications. Sustainable—or rather regenerative agriculture—grows in recognition. And as paganism and witchcraft continue to blossom, learning and supporting sustainability is naturally a path for us to take. I will say that this is influenced by I living in the USA, however, there are thousands of groups across the world for sustainable agriculture, of which tend to be easy to research.

So let us unite in caring for the world together, and here is an introduction to supporting sustainable/regenerative agriculture.

A QUICK BRIEF ON SUSTAINABLE AGRICULTURE

Sustainable agriculture, in truth, is a movement to practise agriculture as it has been done for thousands of years—this time, with more innovation from science and microbiology especially. The legal definition in the USA of sustainable agriculture is:

The term ”sustainable agriculture” (U.S. Code Title 7, Section 3103) means an integrated system of plant and animal production practices having a site-specific application that will over the long-term:

A more common man’s definition would be farming in a way that provides society’s food and textile needs without overuse of natural resources, artificial supplements and pest controls, without compromising the future generation’s needs and ability to produce resources. The agriculture industry has one of the largest and most detrimental impacts on the environment, and sustainable agriculture is the alternative movement to it.

Sustainable agriculture also has the perk of being physically better for you—the nutrient quality of crops in the USA has dropped by 47%, and the majority of our food goes to waste. Imagine if it was composted and reused? Or even better—we buy only what we need. We as pagans and witches can help change this.

BUYING ORGANIC (IT REALLY WORKS)

The first step is buying organic. While cliche, it does work: organic operations have certain rules to abide by, which excludes environmentally dangerous chemicals—many of which, such as DDT, which causes ecological genocide and death to people. Organic operations have to use natural ways of fertilising, such as compost, which to many of us—such as myself—revere the cycle of life, rot, and death. Organic standards do vary depending on the country, but the key idea is farming without artificial fertilisers, using organic seeds, supplementing with animal manure, fertility managed through management practices, etc.

However, organic does have its flaws. Certified organic costs many, of which many small farmers cannot afford. The nutrient quality of organic food, while tending to be better, is still poor compared to regeneratively grown crops. Furthermore, the process to become certified organic is often gruelling—you can practise completely organically, but if you are not certified, it is not organic. Which, while a quality control insurance, is both a bonus and a hurdle.

JOINING A CSA

Moving from organic is joining a CSA (“Community supported agriculture”). The USDA defines far better than I could:

Community Supported Agriculture (CSA), one type of direct marketing, consists of a community of individuals who pledge support to a farm operation so that the farmland becomes, either legally or spiritually, the community’s farm, with the growers and consumers providing mutual support and sharing the risks and benefits of food production.

By purchasing a farm share, you receive food from the farm for the agreed upon production year. I personally enjoy CSAs for the relational aspect—choosing a CSA is about having a relationship, not only with the farmer(s), but also the land you receive food from. I volunteer for my CSA and sometimes I get extra cash from it—partaking in the act of caring for the land. Joining a CSA also means taking your precious capital away from the larger food industry and directly supporting growers—and CSAs typically practise sustainable and/or regenerative agriculture.

CSAs are also found all over the world and many can deliver their products to food deserts and other areas with limited agricultural access. I volunteer from time to time for a food bank that does exactly that with the produce I helped grow on the vegetable farm I work for.

FARM MARKETS AND STALLS

Another way of personally connecting to sustainable agriculture is entering the realm of the farm stall. The farmer’s market is one of my personal favourite experiences—people buzzing about searching for ingredients, smiles as farmers sell crops and products such as honey or baked goods, etc. The personal connection stretches into the earth, and into the past it buries—as I purchase my apples from the stall, I cannot help but see a thousand lives unfold. People have been doing this for thousands of years and here I stand, doing it all over again.

Farmers’ markets are dependent on your local area, yet in most you can still develop personal community connections. Paganism often stresses community as an ideal and a state of life. And witchcraft often stresses a connection to the soil. What better place, then, is purchasing the products from the locals who commune with the land?

VOLUNTEERING

If you are able to, I absolutely recommend volunteering. I have worked with aquaponic systems, food banks, farms, cider-making companies, soil conservation groups, etc. There is so much opportunity—and perhaps employment—in these fields. The knowledge I have gained has been wonderful. As one example, I learned that fertilisers reduce carbon sequestration as plants absorb carbon to help with nutrient intake. If they have all their nutrients ready, they do not need to work to obtain carbon to help absorb it. This does not even get into the symbiotic relationship fungi have with roots, or the world of hyphae. Volunteering provides community and connection. Actions and words change the world, and the world grows ever better with help—including how much or how little you may provide. It also makes a wonderful devotional activity.

RESOURCING FOOD AND COOKING

Buying from farmers is not always easy, however. Produce often has to be processed, requiring labour and work with some crops such as carrots. Other times, it is a hard effort to cook and many of us—such as myself—often have very limited energy. There are solutions to this, thankfully:

Many farmers can and will process foods. Some even do canning, which can be good to stock up on food and lessen the energy inputs.

Value-added products: farms also try to avoid waste, and these products often become dried snacks if fruit, frozen, etc.

Asking farmers if they would be open to accommodating this. Chances are, they would! The farmer I purchase my CSA share from certainly does.

Going to farmers markets instead of buying a CSA, aligning with your energy levels.

And if any of your purchased goods are going unused, you can always freeze them.

DEMETER, CERES, VEIA, ETC: THE FORGOTTEN AGRICULTURE GODS

Agricultural gods are often neglected. Even gods presiding over agriculture often do not have those aspects venerated—Dionysos is a god of viticulture and Apollon a god of cattle. While I myself love Dionysos as a party and wine god, the core of him remains firmly in the vineyards and fields, branching into the expanses of the wild. I find him far more in the curling vines as I prune them than in the simple delights of the wine I ferment. Even more obscure gods, such as Veia, the Etruscan goddess of agriculture, are seldom known.

Persephone receives the worst of this: I enjoy her too as a dread queen, and people do acknowledge her as Kore, but she is far more popular as the queen of the underworld instead of the dear daughter of Demeter. I do understand this, though—I did not feel the might of Demeter and Persephone until I began to move soil with my own hands. A complete difference to the ancient world, where the Eleusinian mysteries appealed to thousands. Times change, and while some things should be left to the past, our link to these gods have been severed. After all, how many of us reading know where our food comes from? I did not until I began to purchase from the land I grew to know personally. The grocery store has become a land of tearing us from the land, instead of the food hub it should be.

Yet, while paganism forgets agriculture gods, they have not forgotten us. The new world of farming is more conductive and welcoming than ever. I find that while older, bigoted people exist, the majority of new farmers tend to be LGBT+. My own boss is trans and aro, and I myself am transgender and gay. The other young farmers I know are some flavour of LGBT+, or mixed/poc. There’s a growing movement for Black farmers, elaborated in a lovely text called We Are Each Other’s Harvest.

Indigenous farming is also growing and I absolutely recommend buying from indigenous farmers. At this point, I consider Demeter to be a patron of LGBT+ people in this regard—she gives an escape to farmers such as myself. Bigotry is far from my mind under her tender care, as divine Helios shines above and Okeanos’ daughters bring fresh water to the crops. Paganism is also more commonly accepted—I find that farmers find out that I am pagan and tell me to do rituals for their crops instead of reacting poorly. Or they’re pagan themselves; a farmer I know turned out to be Wiccan and uses the wheel of the year to keep track of production.

Incorporating these divinities—or concepts surrounding them—into our crafts and altars is the spiritual step towards better agriculture. Holy Demeter continues to guide me, even before I knew it.

WANT CHANGE? DO IT YOURSELF!

If you want change in the world, you have to act. And if you wish for better agriculture, there is always the chance to do it yourself. Sustainable agriculture is often far more accessible than people think: like witchcraft and divination, it is a practice. Homesteading is often appealing to many of us, including myself, and there are plenty of resources to begin. There are even grants to help one improve their home to be more sustainable, i.e. solar panels. Gardening is another, smaller option. Many of us find that plants we grow and nourish are far more potentant in craft, and more receptive to magical workings.

Caring for plants is fundamental to our natures and there are a thousand ways to delve into it. I personally have joined conservation groups, my local soil conservation group, work with the NRCs in the USA, and more. The path to fully reconnecting to nature and agriculture is personal—united in a common cause to fight for this beautiful world. To immerse yourself in sustainable agriculture, I honestly recommend researching and finding your own path. Mine lies in soil and rot, grapevines and fruit trees. Others do vegetables and cereal grains, or perhaps join unions and legislators. Everyone has a share in the beauty of life, our lives stemming from the land’s gentle sprouts.

Questions and or help may be given through my ask box on tumblr—if there is a way I can help, let me know. My knowledge is invaluable I believe, as I continue to learn and grow in the grey-clothed arms of Demeter, Dionysos, and Kore.

FURTHER READING:

Baszile, N. (2021). We are each other’s harvest. HarperCollins.

Hatley, J. (2016). Robin Wall Kimmerer. Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous wisdom, scientific knowledge and the teachings of plants. Environmental Philosophy, 13(1), 143–145. https://doi.org/10.5840/envirophil201613137

Regenerative Agriculture 101. (2021, November 29). https://www.nrdc.org/stories/regenerative-agriculture-101#what-is

And in truth, far more than I could count.

References

Community Supported Agriculture | National Agricultural Library. (n.d.). https://www.nal.usda.gov/farms-and-agricultural-production-systems/community-supported-agriculture

Navazio, J. (2012). The Organic seed Grower: A Farmer’s Guide to Vegetable Seed Production. Chelsea Green Publishing.

Plaster, E. (2008). Soil Science and Management. Cengage Learning.

Sheaffer, C. C., & Moncada, K. M. (2012). Introduction to agronomy: food, crops, and environment. Cengage Learning.

Sheldrake, M. (2020). Entangled life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change Our Minds & Shape Our Futures. Random House.

Sustainable Agriculture | National Agricultural Library. (n.d.). https://www.nal.usda.gov/farms-and-agricultural-production-systems/sustainable-agriculture

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lialacleaf · 1 year ago

Text

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 4

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

You were beginning to feel like Simon was hiding something. When he went out on missions he was insistent that you didn’t contact him. At all.

You never once wondered if there was another woman involved, Simon was too good to you for it to be that.

He was just so closed off when it came to the topic of work, and you weren’t sure why. Maybe he was battling PTSD, and trying not to let it color your relationship.

It had been six months since you had married Simon, two of which he’d spent deployed somewhere. Your parents had asked if you were coming home for the holidays, and you told them you would be working.

They still believed you had a job. In a way you did. When Simon wasn’t home you did light house chores, now that Dr. Radcliffe had cleared you for more movement.

Your leg was still weak, and running was out of the question. You’d begged Simon to let you get a dog but he’d bit his lip, given you a pained look, and explained that it wasn’t fair to the animal if you couldn’t care for it properly.

You’d nodded in agreement but it had hurt all the same. You were lonely when he was gone.

“So what are we doing for the holidays?” You asked as Simon washed the dinner dishes and handed them to you to be put away.

He shrugged as he scrubbed pasta sauce off one of the plates. “Haven’t celebrated in a while,” he admitted, handing you the next clean dish.

“Do you ever visit your family?” You asked.

“Have you ever been to Cambridge?” He went about scrubbing the cup your tea was in.

“I’ve never been to the UK, just the parts of Europe the 141 has taken me. Is that where you’re from?” You asked in excitement.

“No, I grew up in Manchester,” he said, passing you the cup.

“Is your family in Cambridge now?” You asked, feeling as if the conversation had gotten slightly off topic.

“No.”

You blinked in confusion. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to spend the holidays in Manchester with your family?”

“It doesn’t have to be Cambridge, London is nice too,” he added, drying his hands on the spare dish towel. “We’ve got a few weeks to decide anyhow.” He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before disappearing into the bathroom.

You gaped slightly, blinking in confusion. What just happened? Had he really just swept your questions about his family under the rug with the distraction of a holiday vacation?

Maybe it was only fair. You’d made no effort to introduce Simon to your parents, but that was different. You were a daughter, not a son. If your parents found out their little baby girl had been injured, and married off to some strange man, your father would blow a fuse.

You knew very little about Simon though. The only thing you knew about him was his strange relationship with Ghost. Why was someone as sweet as Simon even mates with someone like Ghost?

Simon had started taking you into town once a week. He didn’t like to keep you cooped up, and Dr. Radcliffe had warned him you’d end up in trauma therapy if he kept you isolated during recovery.

Simon was relieved you didn’t display much interest in going to the mall. You were perfectly happy to go to the park and pet dogs, or go to the bookstore for hours on end.

You were begging to accumulate a small library, and sooner or later he’d need to build you a bookshelf.

“Out for the weekly book haul I see,” Jesse, the store owner said as you approached her counter, most of your books in Simon’s arms. You grinned at her as she scanned your latest finds. “You’re practically keeping me in business at this point.”

You shrugged and gave Jesse a bright smile. “You had new stuff in the gardening section, thought it might be helpful for the herbs we just planted,” you said, flashing Simon a grin.

He didn’t give you much of a reaction, but that was normal when he was in public. He wasn’t exactly fond of strangers, but he tolerated Jesse for the free cups of tea she bestowed on the two of you when you sat down to read in her cafe.

She’d never asked for the details of your relationship with Simon, but she always chuckled softly when he handed over his debit card without so much as a grumble for your somewhat expensive taste in books. A man that supported his partner's love of books was a good man in her opinion.

Jesse placed your books in a bag and handed them to Simon with a smile, unbothered by his flat expression and aversion to talking more than what was necessary.

“Have you decided where you want to go for Christmas yet?” He asked as he helped you load into his truck.

“Maybe we should stay home this year. I was just thinking it’d be harder to travel with my leg, and you already don’t like crowds, I can’t imagine how busy London must be this time of year…” you trailed off as Simon buckled into the driver’s seat. “But I would like to put up a tree!” You added.

Simon raised a brow at you as if he were amused by your declaration. “A tree?”

“Yeah! A Christmas tree! And we could have some of your teammates over-“

“They’ll be with their families,” he stated quickly.

Your smile fell. Oh. Right. “Maybe just the Captain then?”

Simon bit his lip but nodded. Price was aware of the situation, and the least likely to spill the beans. He supposed inviting his Captain over for a holiday meal would be alright.

“Speaking of family,” you began carefully, “Can we stop by the post office next week? I’d like to ship my parents' Christmas presents,” you requested softly.

Simon glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Would you like to see your family?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“No, I…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“You haven’t told them.” It wasn’t a question. He’d heard your phone calls with them. They still thought you were working for Price.

“It’s…it’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. It’s just that I don’t want them to worry, and I know that they will.” Simon nodded, grasping your hand gently in his. “I’ll figure something out…eventually.”

“I have to go for a mission next week, but I’ll be back before Thanksgiving. We can put up the tree when I get back. I’ll…leave the truck with you, you can make it to town on your own?” He asked.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to even offer, but now that you thought about it, it was a little ridiculous to expect you to stay put while he was gone. It was your left leg that was injured after all, you could still drive.

“Yeah, I know the way. Thanks, Simon,” you said, offering him a brilliant smile.

“Just be careful,” he reminded you. He’d leave a pistol with you just in case. The holidays were always more dangerous. He was starting to regret not getting you that dog. He would have to look into putting up a fence, but that was a long term project that he’d need a longer break from work to accomplish. Like hell he was gonna pay some stranger to come out to his home where his wife was to do the job.

Once the truck was parked and your books were unloaded, Simon went about doing his chores while you made lunch. At some point you heard the buzz of his saw outside. He seemed to always have some sort of project going.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the other night as you went about piling chicken salad on two croissants. Why was he so closed off concerning his family?

You eyed you bedroom door, wondering if you should just leave it alone, or put your detective skills to work.

You left your plates on the counter as you slipped into your bedroom. Simon didn’t keep many personal items, therefore your nightstand was always a little more cluttered than his between your laptop, medications, and other odds and ends.

You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking for. All you really knew about Simon was his name and that he’d grown up in Manchester. Your search would likely yield little result.

At least that was what you thought until you were starting at a death record. A death record for Simon Riley, bearing the same date of birth and identification information that was on your marriage certificate.

“Y/n?” You jumped, your head shooting up to see Simon in his sweaty work clothes standing in the doorway. “Gonna hop through the shower before lunch…everything alright?” He asked, noticing how pale you’d gone.

“I…um, yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You sputtered, closing your laptop screen. “I’ll go finish lunch,” you said, limping back into the kitchen.

Simon watched you, his head cocked to the side, before he shrugged, and stripped down to get a shower.

You tried to ignore the knots forming in your gut. Simon Riley was dead, and you had no unearthly clue who this man was. Did Ghost know? Had he unwittingly sent you right into the arms of someone dangerous, or was Ghost well aware of who Simon really was?

Your hands shook as you went about finishing the lunch preparations, and you quietly set the table, hyper aware of the other person in the house.

Simon was still in the shower, you had time to go back for your laptop. You quickly made your way into the bedroom, lifting the screen as you sat on the bed.

Your eyes scanned over the obituary with concern. Simon Riley…served in the royal army…died in a fire…no body…wait…no body?

You scrolled down a bit until you got to the photo at the bottom of the page. It was your Simon. You felt your throat tighten.

Why was your Simon supposedly dead? It made no sense. The man in the picture, albeit a little older, was currently showering in the bathroom.

You scanned through the rest of the obituary, noticing the mention of his family. Each name was highlighted, and you risked clicking on the name of the previous Mrs. Riley.

You felt like you were going to hurl when you were greeted with an even more morbid obituary. His entire family was gone. Murdered. Stolen right out from under him. It suddenly made sense. His overprotective nature was simply a trauma response. It still didn’t explain the falsified death certificate, but it was a start.

It wasn’t until you were staring into the photographed eyes of Tommy Riley that it clicked.

Tommy had brown eyes, practically identical to Simon’s. There was one other person you knew of with those eyes. One other person who’s voice sounded so similar to Simon’s, even if it was a little rougher.

Was Tommy…Ghost?

AN: OOOOOH Ya'll excited? We get spicy next chapter...

Tag List:

@warenai @livynicole @ghostlythots @hilowhiho @mrmountainman @miamia89 @shiraya92 @crocodilefeet2707

@zzariyahchan @gaida-511 @misshoneypaper @soldierlass @dazaiscum @mockerycrow @kaysav608 @classygardencroissantcolor @innerskylover @kristalhi @hotaruteba @tzutology @sushiumex @l3xiluve @immajustlikeok

@iplayghoul @linoskitten11 @zollaris @whore-for-anime @migeuloharaslxt @blog-luvdance @embermdk @buttercupmuffins

@corpsebridenightamare @15382663884 @discowizard88 @strawberryjambrrread @lieblinqs

@waves-against-a-cliff @saturnknows @elliesbabygirl @vynz0ne @teapartydreams @thesinsoflust @vantedaes @berryjuicyy @lovergyal @01trickster10 @coolcatyarb @nirvanaaaonly @innerskylover @thriving-n-jiving @whoisjazy @yeoldedumbslut @vinithechocolatevampire @starlettemoony @die-prophetin @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @emily-roberts @mokyoenthusiast

@betelrus @shiftedvoid @beebeechaos @bitchoftoji @katbug37

@thatgirlboss1 @homeofthe-80s-90s-andnow

@illyanam1011 @hrchyysnz @chxosangxl @animarix @happy-mushrooms @pearlm00n @cathnoneofyourbusiness @ray-rook

@novausstuff @copiasratscheese @i-feel-violated @itsagrimm

#simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2

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ilovenatasharomanoff2-0 · 1 year ago

Text

Shower sex

Pairings: Intersex Natasha x Fem reader

warnings: Fingering (r receiving) Unprotected sex (wear a condom) idk what else

word count: 1.8k

Sunlight peaks through the many windows in the penthouse Natasha and you shared in New York. A slight breeze from one of the large open windows makes its way into your shared room. Natasha slowly brings your body closer to her warm one. cautiously, she runs her hands up and down your frame while spooning you.

Natasha gradually starts to wake up. Her eyes squint slightly from the light that illuminated the once-dark room. Natasha brushes some of her red hair out of her face. Her eyes look down at you and admire your sleeping form. A low sigh escapes her lips, slowly turning into a smile. The hand that used to brush her hair out of her face now was a support for her head to rest on while she watched you sleep.

"It's time to wake up, beautiful," Natasha says bringing her free hand up to a higher position and playing with your hair. Her eyes still grazing over your body, it was something that she could always look at. You groan loudly but soon open your eyes to see your gorgeous girlfriend in front of you.

"Good morning baby." You say to Natasha while smiling at her softly. Natasha reciprocates the smile once more and pulls you in closer to her body. "Good morning my love," Natasha says and starts to pull away from your body. Her hand reaching up to your face, pulling you in for a soft kiss on the lips.

Your arm wraps around Natasha's bare back, the feeling of all the scratch marks you left upon the certain body part was only a reminder from last night.

You pull away from the kiss and start to make your way out of bed.

"Noo, come back y/n. Please." Natasha pleads with you as she sits up on the soft bed that you two share and watches you as you walk away to the closet.

"I'm only taking a shower, Natasha. You can come in and join me if you want though." You say to her as you look for an outfit to wear for the day.

You grab a pair of low-rise flare jeans and a shirt that you had thrifted a few months ago from your shared closet. You start to walk out of the large room and make your way to the sustainable bathroom.

"Wait hold on y/n, I'm coming!" Nat tells you, her morning voice making you go crazy. She doesn't need your response before she gets out of the comfy bed at a rapid pace and starts to head to the bathroom.

Natasha comes into the bathroom as soon as she can. Her eyes gawk at your appearance, seeing you in only a bra and panties. A smirk comes onto her face, thinking about all the ways she could have you right now. Her thoughts blocking out what you were trying to say to her.

"And so, after I came back from the - Nat, are you listening to me? Natasha...?" you call out to her, looking up at her with a confused expression.

"Oh, uh - I agree?" She asks you hoping she would be remotely close to what you were just telling her. Her hand coming up behind her head to give it a small scratch. Her green eyes looking at you through the mirror.

"Would you be mad at me if I sad - no?" She says, bending down a few inches to kiss you on the cheek, trying to find a way to distract you.

"It's fine Nat, let's just get in the shower. Okay?" You tell her while spinning yourself around so that way you could face her. Her face lowers down to yours once more and gives your lips a small kiss before standing up.

Natasha walks away to grab some towels from the built-in storage closet in the bathroom. You on the other hand were taking off the rest of the clothes that clinged to your body.

Natasha finished grabbing the towels for the both of you and almost dropped them on the ground when she saw you. Your back was facing her, giving her a full display of your ass.

she stands there and admires your body From top to bottom, she loves it all. You make a swift movement back to the counter to take off your watch that was still displayed on your wrist. Catching Natasha's looks towards you.

"My eyes are up here Nat." You tell her, which she rolls her eyes at. Her boxers get tighter around her waist. Mentally punching herself for being hard right now. I mean, this was such a soft moment and she had to go and get hard.

Natasha waits till you're fully in the shower and starts to undress. Not wanting you to see how painfully hard and turned on she was right now just by looking at your body.

After a few seconds, Natasha slides the now translucent glass door to the side. Stepping slowly into the shower.

"You know that you're so beautiful, right?" Natasha says, while slowly leaning into you, wrapping her arms around your waist. Closing her eyes and dropping her head into your neck.

"Well when it comes from you, yes." You say which makes her smile.

Natasha starts to kiss your neck, making you moan a bit. "I love you" Natasha says, before turning you around, pushing you gently against the shower's sliding doors. Natasha goes in to kiss your lips, it's passionate and soft at the same time.

"You're going to drive me crazy baby." You say to Natasha, looking at her while she makes her way down, kissing every inch of your body. She makes her way back up to your neck and starts leaving love bites everywhere.

You let out another moan, but this time it's a bit louder. This only makes Natasha smile once again. She lowers her hand down to your pussy and starts to rub your clit in a slow motion, but just enough pressure so you can feel pleasure from it.

"Always make me feel so good baby." You say to Natasha, looking at her. Natasha slowly dips two of her fingers into your pussy slowly, her fingers doing a come here motion inside of you. You let your head roll back against the doors. The steam of the door leaving and making an imprint of your body.

Your eyes shutting close with Natasha's interactions. Your mouth agape with small moans coming from your mouth.

"You feel so good around my fingers my love, Jus' want to feel you on my cock already." "I want you to be inside me Nat," Natasha pulls her fingers out of your pussy slowly, licking her fingers to be able to taste you once again.

"Always taste so good for me baby." Natasha says. She leans in to kiss you again, you can feel her hard cock on your thigh as she kisses you with passion. She soon pulls away and grabs her cock. Jerking it off a bit before lining it up with your entrance. Pushing her tip in your pussy. Slowly pulling her cock back out to tease you just a bit.

"You're so tight baby, no matter how many times I use this pretty pussy, you're always so tight for me." Natasha says grabbing her cock and moving it through your folds. Moaning at the way you could be so wet for her this early in the morning.

Her head finds its way back into your shoulder, caving into you while grasping your waist. "So good Nat" you say, closing your eyes and letting out a loud moan. She slowly puts her cock into you, savoring the way you feel around her. Sending her into straight oblivion.

Your moans were gradually getting louder. As Natasha finally allowed herself to be in you. "I'm gonna fuck you so good y/n. No one can ever use this pussy the way I use it." she coo's into your ear before slowly thrusting into you.

Your moans fill the room. Your eyes are in a haze looking up to see the woman on top of you, pounding into you aimlessly.

"Right there, baby." You yell out to Natasha and grasp her back. The doors to the shower were now shaking with every movement that came from Natasha's hips.

Her grunts fill your ear. Low moans slip out when you clench around her length. her head still buried into your neck, biting it slightly. holding onto you tightly while she whispers soft praises to you.

"Please Natasha." You whine out to her, grabbing her now wet hair and pulling her closer to you. Her strong arms were still holding your waist. One of her hands pressing up against the door. Her other hand makes its way to your clit. Her svelte fingers giving the bud enough satisfaction.

Your head throws itself back from the pleasure that Natasha was giving you. Your legs start to shake beneath her. She moves that hand that was on the glass to your legs, lifting one around her waist so you could be stable.

"So pretty and perfect for me detka. You like the way I fuck you huh?" Natasha starts to speed her hips up at an uneven pace, you can tell that she's close.

"Mmm, fuck me so good." You mumble to her, your body focusing on her hips pounding into you. Her cock meets your g-spot. A guttural moan leaves your lips as she angles her hips to hit that spot.

"Are you close baby? I can't go on much longer when you clench around me like that." Natasha says starting to whimper into your ear. Her hand moves faster around your clit, making your hips buck up to meet her thrusts.

"Don't stop Natasha 'm right there baby." Your orgasm coming to you quicker than you would've thought. you become undone on her cock. a loud moan leaves your mouth as you close your eyes

Natasha pumps her cock into you a few more times, one more clench from your tight hole was all Natasha needed. Her head coming up to look at you. Red hair coming down over her face. Natasha lets out a groan before quickly takings her cock out of your warm pussy, Jerking her cock off at a fast pace, Her now red tip leaking with pre-cum

Natasha's hand stops before she shoots out her cum onto your stomach. Her hips thrust into the air while she rides her orgasm out.

You wrap your arms around Natasha, she winces a bit from the marks you left on her back. You quickly move your hands down to the lower parts of her back. Your leg moves down from its position around Natasha's hips.

"That was really good baby." Natasha says, looking at you. "You're the reason why it was so good." You say to her.

Natasha smiles at your statement. "We should probably wash up." Natasha says, looking down at your stomach, that still has her cum over it. "Good idea." You say to her.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x female #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov #Natasha Romanoff x fem reader smut #natasha x reader

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museqmeg · 3 days ago

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When the animation is accurate to piano proficiency and the score tells a compelling story 🤌

*cracks knuckles*

It's time to put my music degree and 20+ years of performing to fandom use. I'm gonna deep-dive into a music analysis of "Duet" and the care Orange put into animating musicianship.

Let's first look at the animation!

Nai and Vash are both correctly playing the notes heard and in the correct form. Here's an interview with Trigun Stampede's composer, Tatsuya Kato!

Kato:

"For Knives - There are multiple scenes in this anime where Knives is playing the piano. In those piano scenes we had an actual pianist play the piano, and filmed them using multiple cameras to create the motion data. His piece combines his beautiful frailty with his huge ambitions and powers. His touching yet fierce impression is expressed through the duality of the minimal music that uses both orchestral and digital sounds quite boldly. Also, the melody of the plants’ song is based on Knives’ theme motif, which allows it to make the son an epic expression of tragedy and destiny."

-- from the Bernardelli Times Extra of the Trigun Stampede BluRay

Let's look at the score for "Duet."

The piece is composed in a minor, starting with Nai on the treble clef staves. The tone is hopeful in its theme despite the minor key, and we get a prelude to the plant theme.

When Vash joins in on the bass clef staves, the tempo is more than doubled and we hear an "agitation" in Nai's lines. Vash is also a few octaves below Nai, miles away in pitch. Sound like their story?

Looking at Vash's upper staff--while Nai is "on" the beat, Vash is off the beat (see highlighted figure). Their melodic lines are also ascending & descending away from each other in contrary motion. The rhythmic figures &melodic movement is causing the dissonance you hear.

This continues throughout the piece, each of the brother's hands becoming their voices and ideals clashing. That auditory dissonance created in the music showcases their struggle. Nai's part is more frantic and urgent, whereas Vash is holding steady with the bass line chords.

I like to think of Vash's sustained bass line as a motif to the steadfastness of his beliefs and ideals. Being true to himself.

"I'm Vash the Stampede."

As the piece goes on, both right hands of the brothers swap the rhythmic dissonance. Nai now on the off beats and Vash on the beat. Nai's repetitive figure on the subdivided 8th notes holds that tension, while his left hand is having the argument with Vash's right hand.

What's also interesting is that while sitting side-by-side for the duet, the hands closest to each other are the ones having the "conversation." There's a small parallel octave moment where they are as close as can be, physically & musically.

The outside hands are the dissonance.

Something else to note on the swapping of beat placement--the twins are both changing the meter within the meter from common to duple with the figures & subdivision.

It all comes to a head with an accelerando & both brothers playing forte.

(Brahms Symphony No. 1 anyone?)

During the climax of the piece, Nai is reduced down to the triplet moving line. It's frantic and desperate. Like fear and running.

(Check out Shubert's "Erlkönig" to learn more about these types of motifs.)

Meanwhile, Vash is pounding out the bass line and the plant theme.

"Duet" comes to an abrupt end with no tonal resolution; ending on the dominant chord. The sudden ending is also breaking up the phrasing, leaving the listener jarred and expecting more. Unresolved. And that's truly where we're at with Trigun Stampede.

My interpretation of "Duet" is that it's much like a tone poem, telling the story of two brothers. Vash and Nai's story isn't finished, and I'm guessing that "Duet" is an unfinished piece as well.

My personal predictions is that, if Tatsuya Kato is the composer for Trigun Stargaze, we're going to hear "Duet" become a complete musical composition that resolves the story and conflict between two brothers.

If you'd like to learn play "Duet" and analyze the score, here's a pretty good transcription on MuseScore:

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun stargaze #vash the stampede #millions knives #yasuhiro nightow #tatsuya kato #trigun stampede ost #score analysis #trigun meta

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rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world · 5 months ago

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Follow @MuniGaza and DONATE NOW: bit.ly/munigaza

$313,940/$1,000,000 collected so far

The Gaza Municipality is tasked with providing essential services such as water supply and sanitization, waste management, and sewage treatment. Due to the ongoing genocide of Gaza, the Municipality’s ability to provide their residents with even the most basic necessities has become severely strained and obsructed.

By joining us in spreading the word and donating generously — you can assist the Gaza Municipality in fostering an atmosphere of solidarity with the people of Gaza. There are over 500,000 Palestinians that are in desperate need of these life sustaining amenities, and with your support they can work efficiently towards reinstating essential services.

“Where will my donations go?”

-Water supply enhancement projects

-Maintenance of water wells

-Implementation of water desalination initiatives

-Reconstruction of demolished roads

-Implementation of sewage water pumping and treatment schemes

-Pest and rodent control

“But what does all of that really mean?”

-Enhancing access to water provisions while maintaining consistency

-Managing the collection and disposal of the accumulated waste throughout Gaza

-Addressing sewage overflow and sanitation issues across the city

-Initiate the opening of key through-fares, which would facilitate the access and entry of emergency vehicles

-Clearing debris from the city to restore the ease of movement for it’s residents

-Providing aid to the personnel of the Gaza Municipality Emergency Committee

$313,940/$1,000,000 has been collected

They still need: $686,060

WE NEED TO RAISE AT LEAST $7,222 PER DAY TO MEET THE GOAL

Contribute to opening a damaged road in Gaza City: $300

Provide Water to 10,000 people for a Day: $500

Contribute to Cleaning up Waste Accumulated in Gaza City: $200

Follow @MuniGaza

DONATE NOW: bit.ly/munigaza

find the link in our link tree in bio!

#palestine #human rights #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #mutual aid #gaza fundraiser #rebuild gaza #Gaza aid #Palestine aid #help gaza #tzedakah #zakat #Tikkun Olam #support for palestine #support for gaza #water is life

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strwberri-milk · 6 months ago

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First Aid Isn't Cheap

Rafayel x GN!Reader || Comf || 2 167 words

Rafayel can’t see again. It’d be helpful if you could stay with him for a few nights until he gets his vision back.

Thomas’s text glows at you as you pack your bag, not bothering to check twice what you’re bringing. Thankfully this time Rafayel’s self inflicted blindness falls in line with a week long break you’ve been given at work, allowing you to devote all your time to him as you see fit.

When you arrive, you find Rafayel happily working in his studio as though there’s nothing wrong. The only way you know he can’t see is when he turns in the direction of you when you open the door, brows furrowing as he tries to figure out who it is. His eyes are unfocused, looking in your direction but not at you in that intense way that he typically does.

“Oh, you made it. Didn’t Thomas just text you? That was fast,” he says as he walks over to you, pulling you and your overnight bag into a hug.

“I was worried you’d trip and break your ankle to add on to the list of things I need to take care of you for. Knowing you you’d try to milk this to keep me here as long as possible,” you scold, still hugging him back as much as you can.

“Don’t worry – I told you already this is pretty common. I’ll be fine. If you don’t want to babysit me you really don’t have to. I can take care of myself.”

You stare at him open mouthed, glad that he can’t see the expression on your face.

You know that this happens to him a lot. You know it’s a result of him overworking himself. You know that he can take care of himself, and you know that technically speaking, he doesn’t need you to watch over him. Rafayel, for all your grievances, is actually incredibly self sustainable. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself, a certain independence about him that you don’t think you’d ever be able to get rid of.

That doesn’t mean that you don’t worry about him though.

You drop your bag, Rafayel turning back to discern if he can figure out what’s happening. He can make out general forms and colours, brain connecting the two to get a general idea of what he’s looking at. He’s upset by the fact that he can’t see your face but having you near him will just have to sate him for now.

“Do you need help with that?” he asks, reaching down just to brush his fingers against your hand.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just go set up in your room. Your phone is near you right? Call me if you need anything while I put my stuff away,” you say quickly, turning out of his studio to head to his bedroom.

You’re glad that he couldn’t see you. You’re glad your voice didn’t waver. You’re glad that you can cry in peace in his bedroom because is its own building. He wouldn’t be able to hear you unless he was in there with you, arms wrapped around your waist as he tries to coax you into telling him what’s wrong. The worst part is you know it’ll work, that all your anger and anxiety towards him will dissipate the second his voice hits your ears and this is the only chance you’ll have to try and stay strong against him.

You unpack your things, opening his closet and smiling at the fact that the clothes you forgot last time are still there. They’re freshly laundered as well, hanging amongst his things as though they’ve always been there. It just makes your heart hurt even more, so distracted by your own thoughts that you don’t hear him walk into his room.

Just as you thought, he wraps his arms around your waist, chin sitting your shoulder as he nuzzles against you.

“I’m gonna go take a shower. Do you wanna join me?” he asks, peppering your cheek in kisses.

On a normal day you’d jump at the opportunity, regardless of whether or not things are going to escalate but right now you don’t think you can manage it. You shake your head, Rafayel feeling the movement against his nose.

“Do you need me in there? If you do I will.”

Your eyes stay focused straight ahead, tidying up his surprisingly neat closet just to keep your hands focused. His brow furrows as he realises there’s something simmering just beneath the surface, He decides not to ask right now, hoping you’d talk to him once you’re ready.

“If I do, I’ll call for you. Promise.”

You nod and he reluctantly lets you go, a little distracted by the way you felt as he showers. He tries to figure out what could have happened – you didn’t say that there was anything strange happening at work and the last time the two of you were together you were perfectly fine. All he knows is that he thinks you need him right now, wanting to get out of the water for once to come back to your side.

Shortly after Rafayel heads into the washroom you hear the doorbell ring. You make your way over to his studio entrance, watching a delivery person drop off a giant bundle of food before driving off. You wait for them to leave before grabbing whatever it is he seems to have ordered for dinner, bringing it back to the bedroom to unpack.

You smile at the selection of food once you recognise the logo. It’s all your favourites. Of course, he was going to be sweet enough to order things you want to eat, even if he couldn’t read the menu on his phone. He hates talking to people on a good day but you know in order to get this spread he had to call the restaurant himself to place the order, probably doing it all for you. Maybe he knows you’re upset and he’s trying to butter you up and, just like every other time, you know you’re falling for it.

“Foods here?” he asks, sniffing a little as he comes beside you. You set everything up on a desk in his room, pulling a seat over and guiding him to sit down.

“I made you a plate of your favourites,” you say in response, handing him some cutlery as you take his hand to show him where everything is. He pouts a little, looking at you as he puts his free hand on yours.

“Feed me? I can’t see. I need you to pity me a little,” he teases, making you roll your eyes.

“Fine. Here.”

You bring a spoon to his mouth, gently guiding him to make sure he actually does manage to eat. You resist the urge to tease him, taking a bite yourself once he’s got his in his mouth.

“I’ve been staying up for a while to work on my next series,” he starts in way of an explanation.

“I’ve just been so excited to finish it that I haven’t really been sleeping or eating. It’s been a while since the last time I’ve been this motivated to work on something. Did you see some of them when you came in? How did you think they looked?” he asks excitedly, clearly anticipating your answer.

You think back to what you do remember, trying to see if you can conjure up anything before shaking your head in defeat.

“I didn’t notice them. I was more focused on you.”

Rafayel smirks, bringing your hand up to press a kiss against your knuckles.

“You’re quite the flatterer. Stuck in a room of beautiful art and all you can look at is the artist slaving away.”

“Course I am. You overworked yourself again.”

A sprinkle of frustration sinks into your words, Rafayel catching the tone but not wanting to push his luck by playing it off. His grip tightens on your hand, nuzzling his cheek against it.

“I’m fine. The doctor said that it looked better this time than other times. That’s a good thing.”

You don’t feel as reassured by his words as he wanted you to.

Night falls around the two of you, Rafayel’s arms around your shoulders keeping you securely against his chest. You can’t really fall asleep, mind racing with thoughts as you trace aimless shapes on the blanket. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, steady in his slumber.

Without warning, you feel tears staring to slide down your cheeks. You bring a hand up to wipe at your tears, muffling the sobs that come unprovoked. Here in silence being held by the man who means more than life to you you can’t help but cry for him. At him.

You wish he took better care of himself. You wish he paid more attention to his body. You wish that he didn’t do things that made you worry and worry, stomach tying itself in knots as your brain continuously goes to the worst-case scenario. He really could hurt himself like this but his flippant attitude towards himself just makes it worse. It’s probably going to be impossible for you to convince him to take better care of himself, an absolute slave to his own whims.

Rafayel wakes up shortly thereafter, you unaware until he somehow manages to turn you to face him. He shushes you gently, hands reaching to brush away the tears on your face. He didn’t need to see you to know you having long memorised each and every part of your body. You want to push him away, yell some sense into him but you know that it’s not really his fault.

“What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

“No. Nothing like that. I just…Rafayel…you can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Last time this happened you said maybe it’d stick. Then today you said the doctor said that your eyes are better this time than other times but why does there need to be other times?”

“You’re worried about me,” Rafayel exhales.

“Yes!” you say a little louder than intended, sniffling as you try not to cry as much.

“I worry about you. And before, I just had to worry about smaller things. Then, I find out you love using rare and almost dangerous materials but thankfully, you can fight and thankfully, you have other ways to source your pigments. I can protect you from those things. I can fight too. But when you do things like this to yourself I can’t do anything about it. How – how can I help you if you won’t even help yourself?” you babble, hands knotting in his shirt as you cry.

“I just want you to be healthy and well. I don’t want to worry about you going blind forever. I wouldn’t love you any less, I promise, but I don’t want you to lose something so important to you.

“You always talk about the world so vividly. How things smell, how they look, how it feels against your skin. I want you to be able to tell me about how you experience the world unabashedly. I want you to be healthy and well. I don’t want to keep getting texts about how you’re feeling lightheaded from fasting for three days unintentionally or your doctor asking me to pick you up because you’ve strained another muscle from painting in the same position for hours on end.”

He listens attentively as you cry to him, brushing back your bangs and cupping your face in his hands. He nods empathetically, softly agreeing with you whenever you need a break before continuing to rant at him.

“I’m sorry my love,” he says, kissing your forehead.

“I’m not used to having someone worry about me this much. I’ve been by myself for so long. You understand, don’t you?” he asks, thumb rubbing against your cheek.

“I forget sometimes that I have someone who cares about me. That if I’m hurt, you’re hurt. I forget that as much as I love you, you love me just as much because I don’t feel worthy of your affections.”

“You are,” you say stubbornly, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you so much. That’s why I worry so much.”

“I know, I know. I promise I’ll get better for you.”

He continues to repeat his promise as many times as you need to hear it, mad at himself for upsetting you so much. You manage to exhaust yourself from crying soon enough, snoring lightly in his arms when you finally fall asleep. He buries his nose in your hair, taking in a deep breath of you as he holds you tightly.

The tension finally slips off of your shoulders as he swears that this time will be the last time. He just wants to give you everything you want, knowing that if it’d make you happy he’d do anything.

#rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lnds rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #lnds x reader #lads x raeder #l&ds x reader

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baronessvonglitter · 4 months ago

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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 15 🍒

"Shameless"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 3,469

Summary: secrets are revealed at Sarah's birthday party

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), takes place July 2003, (not-so) secret relationship, morning quickie, unprotected piv (reader is later mentioned to be on birth control), Joel being a grumpy protective dad, jealousy, oral (m receiving), someone walks in on you and Joel during an intimate moment, revelation of your relationship (at last!), no use of y/n. If I've left out any tags please let me know!

Author's Note: there was a lot I wanted to cram in here because the next chapter gets quite serious. Also, anyone interested in the "Shameless" song can find it here. Fun fact: it was written by Billy Joel about a decade before Garth Brooks covered it and quite honestly, Garth sings it better. I feel like it just perfectly captures Joel’s feelings about helplessly falling in love.

Series Masterlist

Your phone rings on your nightstand, the tinny Nokia ringtone interrupting your morning quickie with Joel.

"Don't answer it," he pants behind you, slamming into you as he grabs your hips.

"Wasn't going to," you gasp, closing your eyes when he leans down to kiss your neck.

The phone rings again.

"Who's calling at 5:30 in the morning?" he grumbles, lips grazing your ear, his breath hot on your skin. He pulls you upright, his movements slow and steady. He palms your breast in one hand and toys with your clit, enjoying your little cries of pleasure as you snake your arm around to bring him to you for a sloppy kiss.

It doesn't take long for you to come, Joel hitting that hidden spot inside you this way. He stills long enough to relish the sweet, strong pull of your walls seizing around him. "That's it, my beautiful darlin'," he whispers against your neck. The scent of your skin keeps him spellbound, your pulse pounding just beneath his lips. He's going to think about this moment all day at work.

The phone rings again and, frustrated, you reach out to shut off the noise. Joel doesn't part from you, flattening you to the bed as you scramble for the little silver phone. "Not gettin' away that easy," he grunts, his chest pressed to your back. You turn off the phone ringer, cutting the annoying ringtone in mid-play and toss it on the floor where your clothes from last night are discarded.

Joel sweeps your hair to the side, his thighs on either side of your legs as he pumps into you, hands on your waist. Trapped between his legs you feel him even more snugly inside you, the friction almost too much. "Joel!" you moan, half-muffled by the pillow against your cheek.

"That feel good? You gonna come on my cock again, babygirl?"

Just him mentioning it causes an automatic reaction, your body so acclimated to him by now that his pleasure is yours and vice versa. "Yes," you moan again, pushing yourself up slightly to be heard clearly. "Harder!" you eke out.

He rumbles low in his chest, pulse racing, heart feeling like it might just give out, but what a fucking wonderful way to go. Your pleas for more are answered as his thrusts become aggressive. "Fuck!" you whimper, your body on edge as he continues his hard work.

"I can feel ya grippin' me so tight, sweetheart.. Jesus, I never get tired of feelin' you this way."

"Joel.." you beg. "Don't stop, don't stop..."

He sustained his pace, beads of sweat starting to surface on his skin and yours, his hands on your shoulders for leverage. When you break apart, cunt throbbing, hips and ass arching up to get every inch of him soaked with your sweetness, he can't help but finally let go, slamming into you one final time as he spills every drop into you, staying still, keeping you at an angle so that you get all of it, all of him.

With Joel in the shower (it took a lot of willpower not to join him, but he was already late for work due to your morning fuckfest), you find your phone on the floor and see who called you.

Of course it was your mom.

Three calls, two voicemails, and plenty of texts.

Suppressing a groan, you dial her back, quickly wrapping a blanket around yourself and heading out to the hallway.

She answers with an annoyed tone. "What are you doing that's so important that you can't call back immediately?"

You roll your eyes. "Mom.. it's super early and it's my day off. Can't I sleep in?"

"You should start waking up early, go outside, get some exercise, it's good for you. Plus school is starting soon anyway. Don't you want to pursue good habits?"

"Yeah," you tell her, though it's honestly the last thing on your mind. This summer has distracted you from everything you hoped you'd do, and given you something even better, something you never thought you'd have.. love.. sex.. things most people took for granted but you'd been gifted with simply for being in the right place at the right time.

"Tell me why I have a bill from my insurance for a gynecologist visit."

A large lump forms in your throat, as if a natural instinct to block the truth from coming out. You'd rarely lied to your mom simply because she was good at hounding the truth from you.

"I had a UTI. Sofia recommended a good doctor." In truth you'd gone to get on the pill, a decision you'd been proud of, taking care of your sexual health. Not to mention it made Joel more excitable than ever, and almost every night had been spent with him filling you up.

"Okay.." your mom doesn't sound completely satisfied with that answer, but she lets it go. You talk a little about your summer so far, talk about her boyfriend and the road trips they take. You pray she never makes the trip out here to ruin the peacefulness of the newfound independence you've forged for yourself.

"What're you doin' out here?" Joel asks, finding you leaning against the wall. He's freshly showered, dark hair slick, skin scented with Irish Spring soap. His dark red tee clings to every muscle, even the little belly you're so fond of that he sometimes feels insecure about.

"I had to make a call," you tell him, exhaling sharply as he removes the blanket hiding your body.

"Come on, lemme see."

Your heart thuds in your ears as you open your legs, the remnants of his cum leaving a sticky trail on your skin.

"God damn.. I never get tired of that sight.. gonna fill ya up again soon, babygirl. And don't forget about tomorrow."

Tomorrow.. Sarah's birthday barbecue..

"Sure thing, darlin'. Oh by the way, I put some air in your tire, it was lookin' a little flat. Don't want you runnin' off the road and gettin' hurt," he says.

"Thanks," you're genuinely touched by his gesture.

"Next weekend I'll change the oil," he says, putting the blanket back on you. "But only if you bring me some lemonade while wearin' a cute little skirt." He narrowly evades a swat from your hand as he ducks, laughing. "All right, all right, I'm goin'. Love you." He kisses your lips softly.

About to head out to the mall to get a birthday present for Sarah, you spot a CD on the console of your car. It's Garth Brooks' Ropin' the Wind. The blue-eyed country singer poses on the cover, clad in a black and blue dress shirt against a blue sky background. You had this poster when you were a kid. It's probably still in your room if your mom hasn't redecorated.

On the back of the CD there's a sticky note: play #6

You smile, seeing what track that is, and as you make yourself comfortable in the car, starting it and letting the AC cool your heated skin, you listen to 'Shameless'. The lyrics feel like they come from Joel himself, the passion and devotion, how you've transformed him, stripped away the person he used to be for someone better, happier.

A teardrop splashes onto your lap before you realize you're crying. No one has ever shown you this kind of love, this much love before. If Joel was here now you'd kiss him.

You put the song on repeat, the anthem of your love, the anthem of your last innocent summer.

"Ice cream cake? In this heat?"

"Do you have any extra towels? And sunscreen? I forgot mine."

"I think we're gonna need some more aluminum foil."

Your house is bustling with guests, mostly friends of the Millers, other people you know, and kids Sarah hangs out with. Not one for attention, she's still enjoying celebrating her day, even more so because Joel allowed (hesitantly at first) for her to invite boys.

"One boy," he said at first.

"A boy with a bunch of girls? At that age? He'll be scared shitless," you told him.

"Good. Then he'll leave early."

You and Sarah managed to sweet talk him into agreeing on inviting two boys.

Right now they're both in the water with Sarah and her friends, splashing, being kids.

"How's it feel to have a fourteen-year-old?" you ask him as he prepares the meat to put on the grill. The air is scented with seasoning as he expertly adds it to the chicken and ribs. Tommy's at the other counter making a margarita.

He shrugs a little, glances outside at the pool where the teens are shouting and diving. "Makes me feel old."

"You're not." You rest your head on his shoulder, and hear Tommy behind you saying, "Aww. When's the weddin'?"

"What?" you force a little laugh as you turn around, watching him watching you and Joel. Joel ignores him, face turning red as he prepares the food.

"I'm just sayin'.. y'all are cute together."

"I--" there's no other reaction you can think of on the fly except to act dumb, as you're woefully unprepared for his remark in the first place.

"Let her be," Joel grunts. "Babygirl, can you open the sliding door for me?"

Following you, Joel gives Tommy a look.

Hailey from the cafe shows up, bringing some Smirnoff Ice. You sit in the shade, sipping your drinks as you surreptitiously eye Joel at the grill, listening halfheartedly as she talks about the latest guy she dated, what a disaster he was in bed. Little could she possibly know the fun you've been getting into with your own man.

"He's so hot," she says suddenly.

"Yeah," you agree, still in your own daydreams. "Who?" you ask, alert.

"Joel Miller," she answers, eyes looking past you and at your boyfriend, at the grill, laughing at something Tommy's saying.

"Oh.. yeah.." Her assessment comes so suddenly that you aren't sure how to answer. What feels like jealousy starts to bubble in the pit of your stomach.

Hailey's eyes don't leave him, and it starts to irk you. You feel a smidgen of what Joel must have felt when that idiot at the saloon had his hands on you without your permission.

"I'm fucking him."

The look on her face is priceless. "What? You're kidding.. I thought you were a virgin!"

"Was," you say with some smugness.

"Damn, girl!" Hailey looks impressed. "Is that why you asked me about what it's like with older guys?"

"Sort of. Well, yeah."

"What's he like?" she asks in a whisper.

Now this is the part you want to keep to yourself. Let the world know this man is yours, but you won't give any more details than that. It's private, it's sacred. But now Hailey thinks it's just physical.

"I'm not wearin' that," Joel chuckles at Tommy, averting his eyes from the navy blue apron his brother has produced from a shopping bag.

"At least try it on."

Sighing deeply, Joel removes his old, faded black apron and puts on the new one, unable to take himself seriously.

It reads, EAT MY MEAT on the front, with a picture of a perfectly placed hot dog.

"I ain't wearin' this," Joel repeats.

"You don't gotta. It was just a joke. That's supposed to be your birthday present by the way, so happy early birthday."

"Thanks." Joel rolls his eyes, stuffing the apron back into the bag and tending to the barbecue.

"So.." Tommy sips the margarita in his hand. "How'd an old sourpuss like you land a college girl?" He motions to you, walking back towards the house. "And don't tell me 'nothing' because that ain't true. She was leavin' your house that one mornin', you brought her home the other night, carryin' her though the front door like it was your honeymoon. You're with her all the time."

Joel shakes his head, purses his lips as he ignores his brother's look. He's tempted to say, 'She's just a cute, feisty eighteen-year-old who takes care of my daughter and gives great head.' But he doesn't have it in him to denigrate you to his own kin.

"Keep this between us," Joel warns him. Tommy nods. "But yeah, we've been seein' each other."

A little smile forms on his little brother's face. "I knew it! Sofia owes me twenty bucks."

"Don't tell her. Not yet."

Tommy nods. "Okay.. but you might not wanna wait too long, brother. Makes you look guilty."

"Sometimes I feel guilty," he mutters. "I'm twice her age. What's she doin' with someone like me?"

"I'm askin' myself the same thing," Tommy laughs. "You deserve to be happy," he adds.

"I appreciate that," Joel says warmly. "And she does.. she makes me happy."

Coming back outside from taking a break in the AC, the first thing you zone in on is Joel. And Hailey is next to him, flipping her blonde hair. Touching his shoulder. They're laughing together.

Jealousy is not an attractive trait in a woman, you can almost hear your mother say, but for the first time in your life you feel it, like a cold spike in your belly, altering your brain chemistry, blinding you to everything except them.

Before you realize what you're doing, you're marching over to them, looping your arm through Joel's, telling Hailey that you need to talk to him.

You're on autopilot, your brain screaming at you to be normal, to stop while you still can, but the green-eyed monster has taken over, and it's this monster that brings you to your room, closing the door behind you as you tear his stupid apron off him and unbutton his cargo shorts.

"Babygirl, what--"

"Why were you talking to her?" you ask, relieved that he's not hard because of Hailey and disappointed that he's not hard because he's alone with you.

"She was askin' me when the food was gonna be ready," he replies, a little exhalation of surprise when you get down on your knees before him and stroke him. "What's this about, baby? Are you.. are you jealous?"

"Of course not." You seem offended he would even suggest it, but there's a desperation to the way you're handling his cock, as if you're afraid if you stop touching it it'll go into someone else.

"Baby, it's okay. I don't like her. Don't even know 'er."

There's silence, a small grunt as you get him worked up for you, finally hard and pulsing in your hand.

"She knows." you tell him, licking the salty precum off his tip. "I told her."

His dark eyes narrow a moment before going wide as he thrusts against your touch, needing friction, either the softness of your hands or the wetness of your mouth. "I told Tommy," he admits.

There's a brief moment where the air is filled with a sense of harmony. It's a relief to you both.

With a heart full of warm, fuzzy feelings, you bring him to your mouth, cupping his ass with your hands.

"I want to do the cake!" Sarah announces, emerging from the pool and wrapping herself in a towel. Her friends follow suit, still kids at heart despite the fact that they're about to go into high school. Sofia brings out the ice cream cake, perfectly thawed out, and Tommy places the candles on - trick ones that don't extinguish - as everyone begins to gather around.

"Wait, where's Dad?" Sarah asks. "Wait, let me go find him."

The house is calm and cool inside, chilling her still-damp skin. Joel's nowhere to be seen, so she searches deeper into the house.

Getting closer to your bedroom, she hears something, a soft sound, a sigh or a moan. She doesn't think about what it could be, only who.

Your bedroom door swings open silently, and it's a long moment before Sarah can grasp what she sees: you, on the floor in front of her dad, the soft sighs coming from both of you.

It's just a second but it feels like an hour goes by as she leaves, closing the door behind her louder than she intends, walking back out to the party, a thousand-yard stare on her face.

She walked in on an intimate moment between you and her dad, and though she'd teased you about it, even predicted that something like this would happen, seeing it was very different. If she's walked in on you kissing it would've been different, but it's as if you've ruined her hopes, as if you've skipped the fairytale ending and shown a cruder, lewd side of being an adult.

When she returns, brushing the tears from her eyes, she simply says that she doesn't feel well, they can skip the birthday song, please serve her friends first, she's going home next door to lay down.

Joel's a little disappointed when he learns Sarah left early, attributing it to her burgeoning teenage attitude, which he'd rather not deal with at the moment.

Selfishly, you're more preoccupied with whoever it was who closed the door on you and Joel earlier. Obviously someone had seen you, accidentally, and left quickly. It could be anyone at this party. Walking back after your hookup feels like going in front of a firing squad. A glance from this person means one thing, a word from another person means something else.

As the day grows late you keep at Joel's side. He doesn't try to push you away. You make yourself comfortable, sitting next to him as you eat, letting your thigh brush his. You even lightly brush an imaginary piece of lint off his shirt, your hand lingering on his shoulder as you talk with the other guests.

You forget who's idea it is to tie knots into cherry stems. You've never heard of the challenge, and when a bowl of leftover cherries from the cocktails made earlier that day is brought to the table, you bite the sweet bulb of red fruit and easily tie a knot on one with your fingers. Joel teases you, telling you, "No, babygirl, with your tongue."

A little moment passes between you, a shared look that is not lost on the others. You take another cherry and he bites off the fruit while you take the stem and place it in your mouth.

It's a hidden talent, one that impresses the table when you effortlessly tie a knot into the stem using only your mouth.

And that's how you get the nickname Cherry.

"You know what this is s'posed to imply, right, darlin'?" Joel rasps, twirling your tongue-tied knot in his thick fingers.

"No idea," you smile, lost in his eyes.

"It means you're good with your tongue," he murmurs.

It happens so quickly, so naturally that you don't realize it until it's happening. Your lips are on his cheek, loving the feel of his stubble against your soft skin, and everyone else is looking at you.

"What?" Joel asks, addressing the table, pink showing up on his cheeks. "My girlfriend can't give me a lil' kiss?"

Cleaning up the kitchen later on, Sofia comes next to you, busying herself with packaging leftovers and rinsing off dirty dishes. You can feel the tension between you.

"I don't approve," she says sternly, not looking at you.

"Of what?" you try to sound innocent, but you know she can see right through you, that it's pointless to lie.

"Of you and Mr. Miller," she says, using the formal surname you should have been using all along.

"You don't have to approve," you say, scrubbing particularly hard at a stubborn spot on the stove.

"He's twice your age, cousin," she says with concern. "I'm supposed to be looking out for you while you're staying with me. How's it gonna look, me letting you date someone older?"

"That's all you care about? How it's affecting you?" you shoot back. "Please. You sound like my mom."

Sofia sighs. "This kind of relationship can't be healthy. He's done more, he knows more.."

"I know."

"Please don't tell me you've-"

"We have." There's no pleasure in telling her this, but it's a massive relief to tell someone.

"God damn it," she mutters. "Are you at least being careful?"

"Of course!"

Sofia's at a loss, unsure of what to say, the warnings countless on her tongue, but unwilling to part from her lips.

"I love him," you tell her. It's whispered confession, as if your own truest feelings carry the worst sin of your life.

Another author's note: just wanted to clarify that Sarah didn't see anything too inappropriate, but she definitely understood what was going on.

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