#Wall tree mount and fittings

[rossa-lighting]

Rope Lighting : Rossa Lighting

A beautifully hinged bauble that you can use on its own or attach to a string of lights. This festive bauble is accented with a metallic gold ribbon and adorned with three silver stars, red berries, glittery snowflakes, charming ladybugs and more. Contact us today. Unit 39, Kells Business Park, Co. Meath, Kells (near the M3).

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Gorgeous fairy tale home. 1929 stone home in Mount Plymouth, FL is unlike anything you've ever seen before. 4bds, 3ba, $525K and the price isn't bad, for this amazing home.

Look st the details of the fireplace. I wonder if that little elf is a part of it, or if the owners placed it there.

Such unique things in this home. The living room has a wonderful rough-hewn wood pitched ceiling.

Look at the shape of the doorway and niches.

Lovely dining room. Look at the light fixture. Doors open to a sun room.

Nice flagstone floor.

The kitchen has what I think is a cool dining alcove, but they have it set up as an office.

Somebody has some dirty hands. Anyway, there's a funky tiled floor and I hope that they're leaving the cabinets that fit in the alcove. Cute vintage kitchen - you can see the cracks in the cabinet doors.

Family room. I like the walls.

This is nice- a shower room and vintage sink and tile. Look at the walls.

Looks like hand carved railings. In the middle, there's a walkway that leads to nowhere. I guess it's meant to look down into the living room.

Like so. I never saw such brightly colored flagstone. It as if it's paint.

sThey've got this room set up as a home office. Look at how rough the walls and ceilings are in this home. It almost looks like wood bark in here.

Wow, look at the bath. Vintage pink sink and tub, plus original terra cotta floor tile. Whoever did the finish on the walls was spot-on.

Look at this room- subtly painted trees on the walls. This is so cool, and they're not highlighting it properly. I wouldn't hide it w/so many paintings and I would have more coordinated bedding and tropical style furniture, even if I had to paint it.

The art is nice, but it's hiding the murals.

This is lovely. A screened in porch with jalousie windows has a cute tiki hut vibe. Love the floor.

This cute addition in the back of the house has a separate bedroom and bath. According to the listing, it's the maid's quarters. Look at the little shutters.

Nice living room/bedroom- is that a fireplace that the painting is leaning inside?

Vintage shower room.

Looks like a big picnic pavilion in the yard, plus another outbuilding. The lot is 2acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/30801-Ridgeview-Ave-Mount-Plymouth-FL-32776/45365794_zpid/

[blondieeu]

comfort inn. aizawa s.

a/n; early christmas content?!

being in a long term relationship with aizawa shouta and eventually making him a holiday person even though he denies it.

"shouta, you're still the most talented gift wrapper I know," you teased as you peaked under the absurdly large and fully decorated christmas tree that had actually no business in your small apartment.

more specifically, you were peaking at the nicely wrapped and carefully lined up boxes placed under it. on the other side of the christmas tree, were your clearly not so neatly wrapped presents.

as you both laid on the couch, him on the L side of the couch with his arms lazily behind his head, your small tuxedo cat- terra took over the other half of the couch (literally just the arm of the couch) and you, not too far away from him but not touching as you both laid there in one another presence.

he wore a long sleeve black shirt and some pajama pants. his hair was in a nice low sleek bun you did for him while he brushed his teeth. he doesn't ask you to put his hair in a bun for him anymore, you just do it because you know he appreciates it.

shouta narrowed his eyes at you. "someone has to maintain elegance in this chaotic apartment." he mumbled, almost under his breath but he knew you could hear him. the lower half of his face was covered by a fluffy white throw blanket.

"maintaining elegance is crazy work, you know that right?" you chuckled out loud peeling your eyes from the impeccably wrapped presents to your boyfriend, laughing loudly when you made eye contact and he cracked a smirk that quickly went away. "besides, your elegance looks a lot like perfectionism to me shouta."

"same difference." he didn't even move from his position on the couch, arms still behind his head. aizawa had been wrapping gifts like that since your very first christmas together, he wrapped you one on your first date.

your large christmas tree shined brightly from the corner of your living room. many colorful decorations, lights, ornaments and a bunch of other shit could be seen on it. it was so big and extra and unnecessary, especially for your apartment - you loved it so much.

"..are you social distancing now?" you smiled at his subtle request for you to come closer, obliging him as you settled back into the warmth of your couch. you weren't really cuddling, just laying beside one another. you relished in the feeling of the heat radiating off your boyfriend.

eventually, your gaze swept across the small apartment you and shouta made into a home throughout the years of your relationship. currently, it turned into what looked like someones grandma's house over the holidays - specifically yours... and it may or may not have been because you stole a bunch of her stuff years ago and wont give it back.

sparkly christmas lights, and sneaky mistletoes placed above the more frequently used door frames. the smell of baking cookies filled all the unoccupied spaces in your home. 'ridiculous' color changing lights danced around on your ceiling too, something you personally insisted you have in the house this christmas.

"up to eight christmas' man. " you began, affection filling your voice. "i can't believe I ended up turning the king of emo into a christmas pro." you fell into a fit of laughter as you continued to poke fun at him, he kept his eyes glued to the television mounted on the wall. terra yawned and leaped off the couch before disappearing behind the kitchen island.

the pro-hero raised a bushy brow, ignoring the fact that she left. "emo..?" he seemed a little taken aback that someone would tell him that. "im a little quiet, I'll admit." "a little?-" you sat up on your elbow, turning towards him with raised eyebrows.

"I speak when necessary. there's nothing 'emo' about me."

"what about that drawing koda made of you?" you both thought back to a week prior; visiting the wild wild pussycats and finding a crumbled picture of shouta poorly drawn as the grinch, which was ironic because you were only visiting to ask what koda would want this christmas. a snicker was heard from your side of the couch, a side eye was also received directly after.

shouta turned his head at the mention of the piece of paper, trying to hide his faint smile. "koda's artistic skills are.. a little questionable." you laughed again. "and I'm not a 'christmas pro.' I just enjoy.. some aspects of the holiday." "yeah, like what?" you threw a leg over his as you cuddled into him to steal his blanket.

"don't let me find out you really do like our sparkling rainbow ceiling lights shouta!" your long-term boyfriend instinctively put an arm around your shoulder as you laid your head on his chest, then fixing the blanket on top of the both of you. "I tolerate them."

"you're my closet christmas king" he looked down at you with an unexpected chuckle, his breath tickled the bridge of your nose. "don't tell anyone that." you happily held up your pinky, he obliged and curled his with yours as you sealed it with a kiss. "secrets safe with me baby"

blondieeu xx

[azsazz]

Cherries, Juniper, and Orange Slices

Daddy!Eris x Reader

Summary: This one is a req from @acourtofmenandthirst: Eris' daughter drawing his scars on her doll.

Warnings: Mentions of scars.

Word Count: 1,639

_________________________________________

Eris peeks his head into the room, amber eyes drifting towards the cot his son, Rook, is currently crying in. The young boy, hardly a year old, has an iron grip on the bars caging him inside the intricately carved wood of his bed. Thick vines and leaves cut into the dark lumber, choked by his little fingers.

Tears stream down Rook's chubby cheeks and Eris coos, pushing into the room. Sunlight creeps in through the light linen curtains. The stained glass creation hung in the window casts colorful shadows across the creamy yellow of the walls. 

“My poor son,” Eris huffs dramatically, lifting Rook from his cradle. He’s clothed in only his nappy, reaching up to cling onto his father’s pressed shirt as if he’ll never let go again. 

Eris hopes he doesn’t. His children are growing up much too fast.

Rook sniffles, resting his head in the crook of Eris’ neck, and hiccups. Eris pats soothing motions into his son's bare skin, peppering his freckled cheeks with loving kisses as he calms his youngest child down. He rocks the little boy, waltzing up to the big windows and pushes the curtains open, letting the afternoon sun shine in full force. The room overlooks the small orchard in the back of his quaint home. Trees he’s planted himself with help from you and your daughters, an important tradition to your family. 

It started on your first date. Eris had already known you were the one—love at first sight—and kept his home away from home a secret from his family, only using it to escape Beron’s throes when he really needed it. Briar, he named it. He had cooked you a hearty meal with the most expensive, luxurious wine he could find, and after a delightful dinner, he’d walked you through the nearly empty rolling hills behind his home, hand-in-hand.

You’d commented how the fields needed more trees and had gushed on and on about what he could do with the space. His shadow hounds had run by your feet, chasing each other through the ankle-high grasses, and he’d immediately taken you to his mount and settled you in front of him, taking the both of you into town to purchase some seeds. 

It has been tradition ever since. Birthdays, anniversaries, births, deaths, any and all celebrations the both of you would go into the yard and plant a tree. Maude loves her cherry trees with all her heart, and Eris is convinced the only reason his daughter ventures outside is to pluck the fruit off the trees and stuff herself silly, stumbling back into the house with stained fingers and lips.

A juniper tree for his other daughter, Juniper. This one was harder to acquire, but thriving well in the backyard, closest to the home. June doesn’t seem to understand the value of the tree yet, but someday, Eris knows that she will.

And a sweet orange tree for his little boy Rook. It had been one of your cravings when you were pregnant with him, and to plant the tree only seemed fitting. Rook devoured any little orange bits he was given with the biggest smile on his face.

He makes a grabby hand for the tree, smart enough to know where his favorite treats are from. 

“You hungry, little man?” Eris asks, and Rook babbles in response. He lifts his son, blowing raspberries on his bare stomach that has cheerful giggles bursting through the room. Rook’s auburn eyes shine up at his father, laughing only harder when Eris catches a whiff of his nappy, grimacing. “Alright baby, let’s get you all cleaned up first.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“Why is our son naked?” you muse, allowing Eris to press a kiss to your cheek while you scoop the last of the cookie dough onto the tray. Your mate and daughters had been helping you, but the girls had been more interested in eating the batter their father kept sneaking them, so you shooed them away to play with their dolls while the cookies baked and you patted Eris on the butt as he went to check on Rook. 

Your son keens, pressing his own open mouthed kiss to your cheek. It’s all slobber and suction, but you can’t help the beaming smile that splits your cheeks anyway. 

“Because he keeps burning them off, Fawn,” Eris answers you, nose wrinkling as he turns to the babe, “Isn’t that right buddy?”

Rook screeches in excitement as his father tickles his stomach. It isn’t abnormal for your son’s power to be flaring up with his emotions. You’d gone through similar situations with Maude and Juniper around this age as well. You still have the burn marks of waddling feet branded into the wood to prove it.

Placing the tray of cookies into the oven, you reach out to take Rook from your mate. “Such a little stinker,” you tease, bopping your youngest on the nose. He retaliates by grabbing a fistful of your hair and you curse mentally, knowing you should’ve tied it out of his reach. 

“Where are the girls?” Eris asks, peeking around the kitchen for any leftover cookie dough. In his mission to steal as much as he could for his daughters, he’d forgotten to sneak a taste for himself. The mixing bowl sits soapy in the sink and he deflates a little.

“Coloring in the den,” you answer, eyes twinkling. Your stomach swoops still at the sight of Eris, even more so whenever he interacts with his children. You knew he was loving, but seeing him like this, completely at ease with no worries tightening his shoulders, he looks ethereal. “Why don’t you get them washed up for some cookies?”

“Yes, please,” Eris says, stealing a kiss from you. Rook squeals and you swoon.

Leaving Rook with you, Eris takes off into the next room. He finds Maude and Juniper spread out on the floor, their coloring supplies strewn about. Thylix and Codon, two of his hounds, laze around both girls, having taken it upon themselves to become their guards. They hardly leave his daughters alone, often choosing to sleep beside their beds at night, though Eris knows his daughters let them jump into bed with them as soon as the door shuts behind him. 

“What are my baby girls drawing in here?” Eris asks, tiptoeing forward. They startle and the hounds’ ears perk up at the sound of their master, but they don’t move. His daughters look up at him with those big, round russet eyes, and Eris knows immediately that they’re doing something they shouldn’t be.

“Daddy,” Maude pouts, hiding something in front of her. Eris’ brows furrow as he wonders what she’s keeping from him, but her younger sister, Juniper, holds her doll up in the air, proudly. 

“Daddy!” June yells, pushing up onto wobbly legs and racing towards him. Eris scoops her up and she squeals, bringing her doll with her, showing off her artwork to her father. Marker streaks across the face of her plaything, reds, oranges, and pinks adorning the cheeks and dress, across the doll’s eye.

“What’s this, Junie?” Eris asks, admiring her artistic abilities. There’s potential, but if she’s going to continue her artistic streak, he better get her something more appropriate to color on. Maybe sign her up for one of the local—or Night Court—art classes.

“It’s Daddy,” she answers, beaming up at her father. His heart swells, but he doesn't seem to be comprehending what Juniper is trying to convey.

He looks around his middle daughter to his oldest, still in her spot on the ground. Her cheeks are pinked with a blush and she’s pouting at her little sister for ruining the surprise.

“Care to explain, Maude?” Eris asks, though he’s not really sure if he wants the answer.

She sighs, shoving up to her feet. She holds up her doll in front of her face like she’s going to get in trouble for what she’s done, but Eris doesn’t understand why.

Until Maude explains. “We drew your scars on our dollies,” she says, and it all clicks. The one across his cheekbone from when Beron has nicked him purposefully with the edge of his sword before he set foot into his first war. His father had said the scar would help him relate to his legion the more roughed up he looked. 

Another, peeking out from the strap of the doll's dress, right above her heart. It’s a rendition of the brand on his chest, another gift from his father. He tries not to let his children see his scars, especially that one in particular, but she must’ve seen it when she’d crawled into your bed after a nightmare perhaps.

Eris’ eyes prickle but he blinks the emotion away. His throat is thick, and he distracts himself by taking a second look at Juniper's toy. Upon catching her fathers gaze on the doll, Maude speaks again. “Junie drew Uncle Lulu’s eye scars on hers. I told her we were supposed to be drawing only yours, but she didn’t listen,” Maude huffs a little, annoyed that her younger sister didn’t follow her direction.

“That’s…that’s very thoughtful, Junie,” Eris places a chaste kiss on her forehead and she grins. “You both did such a wonderful job.”

“You’re not…mad?” Maude asks, staring up at him nervously.

Juniper kicks her legs, trying to escape Eris’ grip. He lets her down and she abandons her doll, racing for the kitchen where she can hear you talking to her brother.

Eris kneels, taking Maude’s hand in his and tugging her into his chest for a hug. “No, Maude, I’m not upset. I’m impressed.” 

“You really like it?” she asks shyly, pulling back so she can look him in the eyes.

Eris nods once, firmly. “I love it, Maude. You made me look perfect.”

[incandescentsims]

Magical Mythical Creatures Legacy Challenge

Play through all the sims 4 occult life states and develop your legacy across seven generations.

Feel free to change anything to fit your own gameplay/storytelling style and above all have fun!

Parts of this challenge were inspired by the Simblr Halloween Challenge created by @spacenez and @daddy-winter 

You can also find the full seven generation legacy challenge HERE (Google Doc).

Generation 1 - VAMPIRE

Aspiration: Master Vampire

Traits: Music Lover, Erratic, Gloomy

Career: Freelance Artist

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Vampiric Lore

Pipe Organ and/or Violin

Cross-Stitch

Painting

Objectives:

Start as a vampire or be turned into a vampire.

Live in Forgotten Hollow.

level up to Rank 5 – Grand Master Vampire.

Grow at least one plasma fruit tree and Sixam mosquito trap.

Earn the Night Owl trait from the reward store.

Marry a vampire. (vampire spouse must be in the Criminal career)

Have an affair with a werewolf from Moonwood Mill.

Have three children, your decision who sired them (vampire or werewolf), but the heir must be sired by the werewolf.

Generations 2-7 are under the cut

Generation 2 - WEREWOLF

Aspiration: Pick one of the following - Emissary of the Collective, or Wildfang Renegade

Traits: Bookworm, Active, Loyal

Career: Vet Clinic

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Wellness

Veterinarian

Fishing

Objectives:

Live in Moonwood Mill (move in with your werewolf parent as a teen).

Have at least one pet dog.

Level up to Rank 5 – Apex.

Join one of the wolf packs - Moonwood Collective or Wildfangs.

Explore the underground tunnels in Moonwood Mill.

Read werewolf literature and unlock the Lunar Epiphany ability.

Catch at least one luna fish and display in an aquarium or mounted on the wall.

Marry your fated mate.

Have as many children as you wish, but the heir must be a dormant werewolf.

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Collect all 12 Moonwood relics.

Collect all 12 feathers.

Complete the fish collection.

Generation 3 - GHOST

Aspiration: Soulmate

Traits: Foodie, Cat lover, Clumsy

Career: Freelance Paranormal Investigator

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Medium

Cooking

Gourmet cooking and/or Baking

Objectives:

Move into a haunted house. (your choice of world)

Have at least one pet cat.

Grow at least one death flower plant.

Earn the Brave trait from the reward store. (purchase after they've lived seven days inside the haunted house)

Have a friendship with a ghost that turns to romance.

Make ambrosia and resurrect your ghost partner from the dead.

Have 5 children.

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Collect all 10 sugar skulls. The Sims 4: How to Complete the Sugar Skull Collection

Collect Paranormal Rewards.

3 specter buddy jars

6 bizzare totems

7 hello dahlia dolls

3 clay hands

3 specter sips

1 ectocake

4 strange overgrowth

12 soul pieces

10 candy jars

Generation 4 - SPELLCASTER

Aspiration: Pick one of the following - Purveyor of Potions or Spellcraft & Sorcery

Traits: Goofball, Adventurous, Romantic

Career: Social Media

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Mischief

Charisma

Rock Climbing

Skiing and/or Snowboarding

Objectives:

Live in Glimmerbrook.

Become a spellcaster and level up to Rank 6 – Virtuoso.

Regularly duel with other Spellcasters.

Holiday in Mt. Komorebi every winter and reach the mountain peak.

Earn the Iceproof trait from the reward store. (purchase after their first holiday in Mt. Komorebi)

Have a new romantic partner each life stage from teen - elder.

Never marry.

Have 2 Children.

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Collect all 25 frogs.

Collect all 26 magical artefacts.

Collect all 12 simmies.

Collect all 5 spirit dolls

Generation 5 - PLANTSIM

Aspiration: Super Parent

Traits: Unflirty, Loner, Loves Outdoors

Career: Gardener

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Gardening

Flower Arranging

Nectar Making and/or Juice Fizzing

Objectives:

Move into a Micro Home with a very large garden. Lot sizes must be 30x30 or bigger (your choice of world)

Collect all 7 Magic beans.

Enter the Mystical Magic Bean Portal Tree and obtain the Forbidden Fruit.

Regularly eat forbidden fruit to turn into a plantsim.

Grow at least one Forbidden Fruit Tree, Cowplant and Money Tree.

Earn the Super Green Thumb trait from the reward store.

Have no romantic or sexual relationships with any sims.

Have no legitimate children. Once they reach adulthood, either adopt or use the Whispering Wishing Well to wish for a child (this child will be the heir).

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Complete the gardening collection

Create all 13 nectar varieties

Create all 15 scented flower arrangements

**How do I turn my Sim into a PlantSim?

Have your Sim reach level 10 of the gardening skill. With level 10 unlocked, you can buy rare seed packets using the computer, or in Build Mode.

Each rare seed packet contains one magic bean. To plant this, buy the Magic PlantSim Stump in Build Mode.

When you have six magic beans, your Sim can plant them in the Magic PlantSim Stump.

After watering, the Mystical Magic Bean Portal Tree will grow from the Stump and your Sim can travel through the portal.

When your Sim returns with the Forbidden Fruit of the PlantSim (they don’t always return with this, it may take multiple tries) they can eat it and turn into a PlantSim.

Generation 6 - ALIEN

Aspiration: Nerd Brain (*Optional - StrangerVille Mystery)

Traits: Socially Awkward, Genius, Recycle disciple

Career: Engineer

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Handiness

Robotics

Logic

Knitting

Objectives:

Live in Oasis Springs (*Optional - Live in StrangerVille and complete the StrangerVille Mystery).

Build all Utili-Bots and a Servo.

Build a rocket ship and travel to Sixam.

Be abducted by aliens at least once.

Marry an alien.

Have as many children as you wish.

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Collect all 20 metals.

Collect all 20 crystals.

Collect all 4 space rocks.

Generation 7 - MERMAID

Aspiration: Beach Life

Traits: Child of the Ocean, Green Fiend, Outgoing

Career: Conservationist

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Singing

Photography

Fitness

Objectives:

Live in Brindleton Bay as a young adult with a mermaid roommate.

Get into a romantic relationship with your roommate only after you become best friends.

Move to Sulani after visiting for a holiday (*Optional - live off the grid).

Become a Mermaid by obtaining and eating Mermaidic Kelp (either from exploring the cave in Mua Pel'am or befriending a dolphin).

Earn the Heatproof trait from the reward store.

Marry a mermaid (can be their roommate or someone else)

Have as many children as you wish.

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Collect all 13 seashells..

Collect all 18 buried treasure.

Collect all 10 underwater photos.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Keeping Vigil

The little clinic on Pabu isn’t much, but you won’t leave it until he wakes.

Pairing: Tech x gn!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: kinda sad, kinda angsty, but also a little comforting, Tech is unconscious, reader is in love but our nerd has been oblivious, mentions of death/thinking someone had died, references to canon typical violence, ends on a hopeful note

A/N: this idea has been rattling through my brain for a while, and I refuse to believe he’s gone, so…. #TechLives

The small private room in Pabu’s only clinic exuded an air of tranquillity. Sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains, casting a gentle, dappled pattern on the white walls. A warm breeze carried with it the sweet scent of exotic flowers and sea salt, filling the room with a sense of calm that seemed to soothe even the most restless souls.

Curled in a small chair, your eyes were fixed on the swaying palm trees visible through the open window. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing on the nearby shore provided a comforting backdrop for your thoughts.

Hand resting on your chest, where your heartbeat drummed steadily, the faint hum of the nearby bacta tank was the only interruption in the otherwise quiet room, and it reminded you of the fragility of your existence.

Four weeks ago, you’d finally stormed Mount Tantiss.

Eight weeks ago, he’d enacted Plan 99.

Casting your gaze to the horizontal tank, you take in his prone form, following the jut of his nose, the curve of his lips, and down across his chin. Bones had been reset, bruises fading, and cuts stitched up, but you had no idea what the lasting damage would be. And you wouldn’t until he woke.

You hadn’t anticipated finding him, not after Hemlock had so callously thrown you his shattered goggles and declared it was all they could ‘salvage.’

Turns out Hemlock had been lying.

You’d never been more grateful for your terrible sense of direction. One wrong turn as you’d been searching for Omega and Crosshair had led you into a room full of bacta tanks, each housing a clone, but one had not been like the others…

You’d called for backup, Howzer and his men finding you a few minutes later. As a team, you’d drained the tank and pulled him free. A hasty job had been done to stabilise and get him to the waiting ships. But it had been enough.

The rest of the rescue had been a success – the Empire hadn’t anticipated a well-connected network of highly skilled clones to storm the place. All the clones taken had been saved and transported away in a small fleet of ships. Hemlock had met his end from one of Crosshair’s perfect shots, and once everyone had been clear, Wrecker had blown the place to smithereens. But not before you’d grabbed every scrap of information available from the place. The small pile of data spikes you’d handed over to the fledgling rebellion would hopefully help.

“The sun is out today. The storm I told you about the other day has finally cleared.” You spoke a little louder than usual. The doctor had suggested he might be able to hear you, and that thought is partly what kept you tied to the room – to the chair. You didn’t want him to be alone, to risk him waking with no one by his side.

That and you needed the reminder that he was still here. That the memory of him shooting the rail track and plummeting thousands of feet wasn’t the end. Loving him from a distance for years had been hard, but believing that you’d never gotten the chance to tell him had been devastating.

“I kind of miss it. The storm reminded me of Kamino.” You continued, letting out a soft sigh. Your fingers crept upwards, wrapping around his broken goggles. You’d carefully removed the glass and slipped them around your neck after Omega had been taken, and they’d rested there ever since.

“Remember that terrible storm, the one that knocked out the power when you were trying to fit my bracelet?” You reminisced, tearing your eyes away long enough to look at the band of silver around your wrist, which had been locked into place with one of his many screwdrivers. It had been a gift from them all six months after you’d joined as their handler. A comms unit and tracker had been embedded, and a small ‘99’ engraved into the metal.

“None of the torches were charged, so we’d had to borrow the one from Crosshair’s rifle. I can still remember the look on his face when Wrecker had reached for it.” You chuckled at the memory. Things had been so much simpler then.

A bird squawked outside, a reminder of how life was continuing on beyond the four walls of the clinic. The boys had come to see you and him a few times. Omega usually swung by after school with her homework, and you’d help her finish it. They brought you food and news from the rest of the island, and they’d leave with the same sad look on their faces – sympathy painting their matching brown eyes. They weren’t blind and had known for some time that your feelings for their brother went far beyond friendship.

Phee had visited once, too, having finally put the pieces together. She’d vowed to back off, to not tread on your toes, and while you’d appreciated it, you couldn’t help but feel bad. He wasn’t yours – he didn’t know how you felt. Who were you to say who could or couldn’t pursue him?

“I’m glad I found you. I thought for a while I’d truly lost you.” You confess, forcing volume into your voice even as it cracks a little. “As much as I despise Hemlock, I’m glad he found you, that he saved your life.”

“If I ever come across Saw Guerra, though, it’s on sight…” There was no point concealing your anger. The blame for Tech’s fall lay solely at Saw’s feet, and that man was fortunate you weren’t already on the warpath.

Silence lingers again, the breeze outside picking up a little, making the curtains rustle. “I’ve been trying to fix your helmet, too.” You state, turning to look at the mess of equipment on a small side table. “I found it in a million pieces in one of the labs on Tantiss. I think they were trying to access your files on the Republic. They just didn’t account for how smart you are.” A smile crosses your lips as you shift in the seat, reaching out like you had done hundreds of times over the last four weeks to press your hand to the tank glass. You loved that exceptional mind of his, how he solved complex calculations on the fly and picked up new skills and information in an instant. It was incredibly attractive.

“With how many pieces it’s still in, I don’t think I’ve accounted for how smart you are either.” You chuckle before taking a deep breath. “Maker, I miss you, T.” You whisper, slipping into the small nickname you’d given him shortly after joining the squad.

The silence over the last four weeks in the clinic had given you plenty of time to think. You weren’t sure when he woke if you’d share your feelings openly, but you certainly wouldn’t conceal your affection so much anymore.

“I miss your voice and your info-dumping.” You add. “But you’re going to get better, and you’re going to wake up.” You try to look at the bright side.

You took another deep breath, embracing a sense of hope that lingered in the air. With a tender smile, you felt the weight of the last few weeks finally lifting off your shoulders. “When you wake, I’ll be here, ready to help you, to share every moment, and every bit of affection that I’ve kept buried for so long. The quiet, safe life we’ve all yearned for is just around the corner. You, me, and your siblings, all back together again.”

Lost in the darkness, Tech’s mind had desperately clung to your voice over the last few weeks. And this time, as he listened, his fingers finally twitched.

[divine-misfortune]

hi void! i hope you’re having a wonderful day/night/evening/existence in your part of the world :))

I just wanted to see, if for the Nsfw prompts, you would consider something with Mountain/Aeon? Number 10 on the list is what i was kinda vibing with BUT whichever you feel fits is fantastic!

No pressure at all - just have fun with it :))

appreciate you!!! ☺️🫶✨🦇

I wasn't sure if you meant 10 for dialogue or for scenario so I just went with the dialogue prompt - I hope that's okay :))!!

"Harder." "Harder? Are you sure?"

Cw for choking but it's fairly tame aside from that!!

"Choke me."

Mountain's fingers pressed that much deeper into the soft skin at his hips, nails sure to leave angry red crescents in their wake. It's an easy enough request but it still manages to punch the air straight from his lungs, a low almost groan like a creaking tree bending as not to snap. He had to remind himself to breathe, slow measured inhales through his nose and a paced exhale through his teeth. The mental image of the sweet new-summon gasping helplessly under his palm made his balls feel tight.

It's the urgency in Phantom's voice that makes his stomach twist up into neat little knots. A brand of raw desperation and a little vulnerability hidden in his plea. Phantom so rarely wanted out loud.

"I...Are you sure?" He managed to ask in a fairly stable voice despite the clutch of Phantom's body around him. Only a slight warble.

"Want it, been wanting you to."

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Phantom looked back at him. Pupils wide and dark, desire consuming the violet of his eyes. He was pleading. Big, wet puppy eyes that managed to tug at something in his chest, and maybe gave a bit of a tug at something in his belly.

"Please Mount..."

Cautiously Mountain wrapped a soft hand around Phantom's neck, his palm wide enough to engulf him. His head tipped back from the weight of his hand alone, practically laying himself bare at the earth ghoul's mercy. He gasped. The muscles in his shoulders visibly tensed as his grip adjusted but loosened the second Mountain granted him that delicious pressure.

He exhaled shakily as Mountain's hand settled into place, just enough to invite a familiar fuzzy sensation into the far edges of his mind. The careful thumb stroking along the nervous pitter patter of his pulse only coaxed it to creep further in. Phantom hummed appreciatively as the comfortable haze began to wash over him, eyelids growing heavy.

"There you go bug, that's a good boy." Mountain cooed as he draped himself over his back, nosing sweetly into the juncture of his neck. His praise is spoken in whispers against warm skin, mindful not to startle the poor thing out of the safety of his own head - not when a little squeeze of his throat had Phantom's walls bearing down around his cock

The gentle giant's nature was something Phantom was grateful for, from the tentative hold to the shallow rolls of his hips, but it doesn't quite satisfy the itch. The ache that nagged behind his eyes and refused to let him slip under entirely, it demanded more.

"H-harder." Phantom croaked, a flash of uncomfortable heat flushing his cheeks and burning in his belly. Something between shame and embarrassment. He's suddenly grateful for their position.

"...Harder?" Mountain sounded like he was frowning and Phantom chewed at his lip when those short thrusts went still. "Petal...Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you."

"Won't hurt me," he rested his own hand over Mountain's, comedically small in comparison. Something he ignored for the sake of reassurance. "Trust you to make me feel good."

The admission hit Mountain hard, his cock kicking inside of him. Mountain growled and pushed himself the slightest bit deeper, hips pressed flush to his cute little ass. He could only grind so deep into him but Phantom wriggled back against him like Mountain might be able to give him another inch or two.

"Rainy says I get so tight when he chokes me, tells me I feel so good around his cock when I can't breathe." Mountain felt Phantom's hand over his own pressing ever so slightly in encouragement. It was his turn to feel dizzy. "I can take it, I'll take it, just...give it to me."

He hissed at his own weakness, internally cursing his inability to say no to him. Especially when he pleaded in that voice. Mountain curled his fingers around his throat until the little ghoul let out as much of a pleased chuff as he could manage. He buried his face into those soft dark curls and breathed him and all of his need in. Mouth watering in its sweetness, blackberry syrup and a faint trace of bergamot.

"You always do lovebug," Mountain snapped his hips forward, feeling the air knocked straight out of his lungs. "Gonna be so good for me, show me how well you take it honeybee."

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 11 | S.R

Not my gif

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - You and Spencer call a truce so you can enjoy your weekend at the cabin. But it’s short lived, and soon discussions of your future arise once again, causing Spencer to make a rash declaration.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - swearing, fingering, handjobs.

WC - 5k

Chapter 11 - No Tomorrow

The cure for the sorrow,

Is to live like there's no tomorrow (no tomorrow),

Blow it up, pull the pin from the inside.

The cure for the sorrow,

Is to live like there's no tomorrow (no tomorrow),

Nothing lasts, no one wins, but it's alright.

Two hours later Rossi’s handyman, Dirk, left the cabin down the front steps after successfully getting power back to the house. 

Before he’d arrived you took the opportunity to explore the cabin in the daylight. 

The living room was cosy and decked out with large antique couches, an old oak coffee table and giant wooden bookshelves. 

There was a table in the front window with two large leather armchairs either side and vintage chessboard on the table between. 

The large stone fireplace had a thick bearskin rug on the floor in front of it and a long since used shotgun mounted on a piece of bark hanging over it. 

Ornate light fittings hung from the wooden rafters and various paintings like the ones in Rossi’s mansions decorated the walls. 

The kitchen off to the side held much fewer appliances than Rossi’s home and had a very homely feel. 

There was a huge old burner stove that took up almost an entire wall, black granite countertops and a cute breakfast nook off to one side surrounded by leather stools. 

There was a study upstairs which held more bookshelves that rivalled Spencer’s collection and more grand leather armchairs next to a window overlooking the driveway. 

The bedroom was at the side of the house and was set with arched wooden ceilings. The bed faced the large floor to ceiling window which overlooked the forest and allowed a peak at Lake Anna in the distance. 

And the decadent bathroom and the jacuzzi tub with a view of the forest was utter perfection. 

The cabin was cosy and had a warmth to it. You were a little sad you’d be going home today before you had a chance to settle in. 

It was picturesque and incredibly romantic and under other circumstances you and Spencer could have been rolling between the sheets and going for long walks instead of barely speaking to each other. 

It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful place but it was best if you left. 

You went for a walk while Spencer stayed with Dirk and were yet to return. 

Spencer located his phone and called you but there was no answer. He tried again, still no answer. 

On the third try he heard a distant sound of a phone ringing. 

He passed up the stairs and saw your purse sitting at the end of the bed, the ringing coming from inside. 

“Fucking brilliant.” He hung up the phone. “She could be anywhere.” 

He tossed on his converse and left the cabin, locking it up behind him as he went in search of you. 

He stopped by his car and surveyed the thick woods around him. He looked left. Looked right. He sighed and rolled his eyes. 

You could have headed in any direction and there was no telling how far you’d gotten in the time you’d been walking. He could be searching for you for hours. 

He glanced back at the cabin over his shoulder and considered just staying put. Chances are you weren’t going to cross paths and you’d end up back at the cabin while Spencer was still out looking for you. 

But what if something had happened? What if you were in trouble and he hadn’t tried to find you? 

He looked at the trees on his left. Then at the trees on his right again. 

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. 

Right it is. 

He pushed forward to the right side of the house and stepped from the gravel driveway to the grassy forest floor. 

Lake Anna was in this direction, a short hike through the trees so with any luck he’d find you there. 

He started trudging his way through the overgrowth, swerving between trees and dipping beneath low branches. 

He kept his sounds to a minimum and listened out for any little noise coming from within the forest that might indicate you were nearby. 

He felt like he was stalking an unsub, a similar kind of nervous adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

The trees became denser the further into the forest he got and it was causing the temperature to rise. He felt sweat gathering at his temples and on his brow. 

“Y/N? Y/N?” He periodically called out your name and stood still while he waited for a response. 

All he was met with was rustling leaves and bird songs. 

The lake was getting closer, he could see the water more clearly glistening in the sunlight through the trees. 

He kept walking. He didn’t know how long to walk for before he turned back and waited for you at the cabin. For all he knew, you were already back there. 

But your phone was at the cabin so if you’d gone back and found it empty, you would have called, right? 

Wrong. He’d locked the door. You wouldn’t be able to get in. Brilliant. 

“Y/N? Come on, where are you?” He huffed, wiping his sweaty brow on his shirt sleeve. 

He should have had the forethought to bring water, his mouth was incredibly dry. 

He walked and he walked and was getting close to giving up. The ground was becoming harder to traverse, trees growing thicker and more and more debris littering his way. 

“Y/N? Goddamnit, Y/N!” 

He huffed, trying to keep his line of sight on the sliver of glowing water through the forest hoping to find you by the lake. If he didn’t, it was time to admit defeat and hope he could find his way back to the cabin. 

He was sweating profusely now, no air able to permeate the thicket of trees and the sun was heavily bearing down on him. 

Somewhat reluctantly he started undoing his shirt buttons as he walked and was soon peeling the damp fabric off of his body. It offered him some relief but he didn’t relish being shirtless in the woods where he could rub up against anything or have some bug easily bite him. 

But it was so hot. 

At the very least, if he made it to the lake he could splash some water on his fried skin, hell maybe he’d even go for a dip. 

He tried to focus on the idea of plunging into the cool water while he forced his aching legs forward. 

It was at least another five minutes of walking, but it felt like five hours, before he finally emerged from the trees onto the lakeside. 

He squinted against the sun which was reflecting off of the large body of water right back into his eyes and wished he’d had the forethought to bring his sunglasses. 

The lake was still and serene. Despite the heat suggesting otherwise it wasn’t quite summer yet and the tourists hadn’t descended upon the water yet. 

It also enabled him to spot you with ease, sitting on the dock a little way ahead of him with your back to him. 

Thank god. 

With what little energy he had left from his walk he dragged himself towards the dock, his shirt hanging limply from his hand. 

When he reached the dock, you heard footsteps on the wooden boards and turned to glance at your company over your shoulder. 

Spencer was panting by the time he reached you, dropping to the ground next to you. His hair clung to his sweaty forehead, more droplets rolled down his sun kissed chest and biceps. His pants were covered in dirt and he looked completely exhausted. 

“What happened to you?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“What happened to me?” He scoffed. “I just took a hike through a forest looking for you because you left your cell phone at the cabin.” 

“I know I did.” You shrugged.

“You…you…” he was still trying to catch his breath. “You left it there on purpose?”

“I wanted to be alone.” You turned away from him, looking back at the still water beneath you. “Also there’s a road genius, with a footpath.”

“Footpath?” He groaned. “You’re kidding me?” 

“Hey, you’re supposed to be the smart one.” 

“Goddamnit this weekend has been a fucking disaster.” He swept his hair back from his brow. “Can we just go home, please?” 

“Gladly.” You pushed yourself to your feet and Spencer did the same. 

Only Spencer was much more uncoordinated in his movements. 

It was hard to say what happened as it all transpired so quickly. One minute he was getting to his feet and the next he stumbled, or tripped on something, you weren’t sure.

But the next thing you knew he was falling and then there was a loud splash as he toppled into the lake. His entire body went under, ripples from the impact lapping at the dock. 

You leaned over the edge and watched the frothy water where he’d landed for a second or two before he re-emerged, groaning and spitting lake water out of his mouth. 

“Fuck,” he growled, wiping the water from his eyes and pushing his hair back off of his face. “My cell phone!” 

He quickly scrambled to free the device from his pocket and the sodden fabric, pulling it free and wading towards the dock so he could toss the phone out of the water. 

He glanced up at you and you couldn’t help the smile that desperately tried to twitch at the corner of your mouth. 

“This isn’t funny.” He spat, slinging his soaked shirt which he’d been holding onto next to his phone.

“It’s kinda funny.” You let the smile spread. 

“Do you think you could help me out or are you too busy with your amusement?” He frowned at you, looking frustrated. 

“I’m an excellent multi-tasker.” You smirked, stepping forward to the edge of the dock and bending a little while reaching your hands out towards him. 

You should have seen through his juvenile plan. You were certainly smart enough to know what he was doing. But you fell for it hook, line and sinker. 

Spencer’s wet hands gripped your own but instead of pulling himself out of the water, one sharp tug of your hands caused you to wobble and soon you were being pulled head first into the lake. 

Like Spencer, your whole body was engulfed by water and when you resurfaced you were spluttering. 

“What the fuck?” You spat, rubbing your eyes. 

“Now that’s funny.” Spencer chuckled. 

“Asshole!” You splashed water at him, covering his face and hair once more. 

“Hey!” He grumbled, using the palm of his hand to send some right back at you. 

You retaliated quickly, sending an even larger wave towards him and he held his hands up as if that would somehow stop it from soaking him further. 

“What’s wrong, Doctor? You started this.” You grinned smugly at him while he simply stared at you. 

“Yeah, I did.” He nodded. “And I’m also gonna end it.” 

He was suddenly lunging at you, grabbing you around the waist and managing to drag your shoulders and head under the water. You fought against him, kicking your legs but he was stronger. 

He only plunged you for a second or two but he didn’t let go of you when your head was back above water and you were once again wiping the water from your eyes. 

“I repeat, asshole!” You shook your head. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t quite hear that?” He frowned but before you could reply he managed to dunk you again. 

You spluttered again once you emerged and glared at him, his arm still around your waist. 

“Ok, ok. Truce?” You whined a little.

“You think I’m gonna fall for that?” He chuckled. 

He raised one hand out of the water and swept your hair off of your face. He was smiling in that way that made you dizzy, and you were sure he knew it too. 

He kept his hand on your cheek once he’d moved your hair back and you naturally gravitated closer to him. 

Your wet jeans and blouse clung to your skin and you had the urge to take them off, or maybe let Spencer have the privilege. 

You waded even closer until you were pressed up against his body and it was quickly evident that he’d been having the same thoughts given the hardened bulge sheathed inside his pants. 

You raised your arms out of the water and wrapped them around his neck, fingers curling into his wet hair. He sucked in a breath and his gaze flitted down to your lips. 

“Truce you said?” His voice was hoarse. 

“Truce.” You agreed seconds before he was slamming his lips against yours. 

You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as his tongue quickly plunged into your mouth. 

You were both moaning already as you grinded against him and Spencer’s hand was hurriedly wandering between your bodies. 

He fumbled a little getting your soaked jeans undone, his other hand still in place on your cheek to hold you close. 

Once he’d managed to pop open the button his hand was sliding inside your pants, straight into your panties and soon his index finger was pressed against your clit. 

You whined into his mouth and removed one hand from his neck to return the favour. He started nimbly rubbing your sensitive spot while you fought with the button of his own pants. 

Given the sodden fabric hugging his body it wasn’t easy to free him but finally you wrapped your hand around his shaft and got him out of the confines of the wet material. 

You started to stroke him while his lips trailed to your neck, sucking on the wet flesh. His finger moved from your clit, further between your legs and two digits pushed inside of you. 

You moaned, your sounds rolling out in waves across the empty lake. Your head fell back and it allowed Spencer better access to your neck. He sucked bruising marks into your skin while his fingers moved in and out of you, brushing against your bundle of nerves with each deep thrust. 

Your grip tightened around his shaft as you moved your hand up and down it in firm, quick pumps. He growled against your neck at the sensation.

As your bodies moved it sent the water lapping at the dock, around your bodies, and out across the lake until the waves turned into small ripples and then eventually the ripples smoothed out the further away they got. 

Your legs tightened around his waist as he increased his speed, fingers rampantly fucking you, desperate to bring you to your release. 

In return your strokes of his cock became almost frantic and you could feel it pulsing in your hand. It barely took any time at all before he was mumbling against your neck, “I’m so close.” 

You replied in a moan of agreement as his fingers shifted positions a little and somehow allowed him to thrust deeper. 

He could feel you clenching around his digits as his stomach started to tighten. All at once the two of you reached your peaks, and came almost in perfect unison. 

He kept his fingers inside of you while you rode out your orgasm and your hand remained squeezed around the base of his shaft.

He panted heavily into your neck, placing chaste little kisses against your skin. When he raised his head you looked at each other through hooded eyes and parted lips curled up into smiles. 

He kissed you as he cautiously withdrew his fingers, making you whimper slightly as you reluctantly let go of his length. 

He wrapped his arms around you and you did the same, simply gazing at each other in the sunshine that bore down on you, relishing in this momentary solitude. 

You both knew it would inevitably have to come to an end so you tried to cling to this moment for as long as you could. 

You rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder and he held your close, tightening his hold on you. It was hard to say how long you remained like this, time slipping away like the water droplets rolling down Spencer’s neck. 

Eventually you started to grow cold and reluctantly the two of you got out of the lake and headed back to the cabin. 

You agreed to stay, still trying to hold onto some small part of this relationship as long as you could.

You both showered and changed and Spencer drove you to the nearest convenience store for groceries. When you returned he cooked dinner and the two of you ate in relative silence. 

As the sun started to set, he lit a fire and the two of you curled up on the couch with the new bottle of scotch you’d purchased at the store. 

“I can’t keep doing this if we don’t have a future.” You found yourself blurting out but Spencer didn’t seem particularly surprised by your words.

“I didn’t say we don’t have a future, Y/N.” He sighed as he spoke. “We can have one. I want us to have one. But it just might look a little different than you had in mind.” 

You finished your drink and quickly poured out another two fingers into your glass. Spencer did the same.

“I want kids, Spence. I want to get married one day.” You choked out. 

“I can’t imagine having more kids.” He admitted sadly. “Daisy is almost fourteen as it is, Lily will be eight in a few months. If I had another kid now that would be a huge age gap, let alone sometime in the future. I’m not saying I don’t want more kids, but I can’t promise that I will either.” 

“I know we said we’d put a pin in this, but I can’t. If we want different things then-”

“Meet my kids.” He suddenly declared, cutting you off. 

Your eyes went wide and you almost dropped your glass in your lap. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I want you to meet my girls.” He swallowed. 

“Seriously?” You frowned at him.

“Yes, I absolutely adore you Y/N and I want you to be a part of my life in every way. And that includes my children.” He reached for you with his free hand and cupped your cheek. “Please?”

“O-ok.” You nodded although it still didn’t exactly solve the problem at hand. 

Meeting his children was a positive step towards the future but if he didn’t want any more, did you really have a future? 

It probably made you an idiot for dropping it so easily and allowing yourself to once again put your own dreams on the backburner because Spencer didn’t share them. 

If you insisted on doing this eventually you would find yourself in a future that had been dictated by someone else. But you loved Spencer, undoubtedly so, and you weren’t ready for this to be over. 

Maybe he’d change his mind somewhere along the line. Perhaps one day he’d wake up and share in your vision of the future. And if he didn’t, you’d have to deal with that hurt when it came. 

***

You spent the next twenty four hours in a blissful and slightly ignorant bubble in Rossi’s cabin. Most of that time was spent having sex, because if you were having sex you weren’t talking. And if you talked then your relationship would no doubt come crumbling down like a house of cards. 

On Sunday night Spencer drove you home and you barely said two words to each other. He dropped you off before heading to Maeve’s to collect Daisy and Lily. 

He parked out front and texted Maeve he was here like he did every two weeks, never wanting to see her unless it was absolutely mandatory. 

He sat and waited, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, lost in his thoughts. He didn’t notice someone heading towards his car and when there was a gentle knock at his window he jumped a little. 

His eyes shot up and Maeve was standing on the curb, a soft smile on her lips. Spencer exhaled deeply, his frustration evident on his face as he rolled down the window. 

“Hey,” she had her arms folded across her chest. 

“Where are the girls?” He frowned at her. 

“They’re just getting their stuff together, I wanted to talk to you quickly.” 

“About?” He sighed. 

“Well it’s Daisy’s birthday in a few weeks and we haven’t discussed what we were going to do. I know last year we did separate things for her but I thought it might be nice to do something for her together? A party maybe?” She was smiling at him, pleading with him because they both knew that wasn’t something he would be receptive to. 

He grinded his teeth together violently, digging his blunt nails into the fabric of his slacks. 

“That seems like a terrible idea.” He didn’t beat around the bush. “We’ve spent, at most, a half hour together in the same room in the last year. I really don’t relish the idea of us throwing her a party together.” 

“It was her idea.” Maeve shrugged. “I said I’d ask. I didn’t think you’d be willing to put your pettiness aside even for one day.” 

“So I say no and I’m the bad guy? Super.” He scoffed. 

“She’s not asking for the world, Spencer. She just wants one day with both of her parents.” Maeve’s smile faded, replaced with a frown similar to Spencer’s.

Goddamnit, he groaned internally. 

He could so easily say no to Maeve but not his daughters. And if Daisy wanted to spend her birthday with both of them, he couldn’t very well deny her that. 

He exhaled loudly again, raking his fingers through his hair. 

“Fine,” he huffed. “But we do it at my house.” 

“Actually, she’s been dropping hints about having a pool party. Apparently it’s the cool thing. And Rossi did have that pool installed last summer, right?” She smiled but it was a begging smile that Spencer knew all too well. 

It was the same one she’d used when she’d tried to talk him into having more kids.

“I can’t ask Rossi to host a bunch of teenagers.” Spencer shook his head. 

It was then he realised it wasn't a begging smile, it was a guilty one. 

“I kinda already asked him.” 

“You did what?” His eyes widened. 

“I knew you wouldn't, so I called him yesterday. He’s fine with it.” She shrugged.

“Goddamnit.” He groaned. “Rossi is my friend Maeve, not yours.” 

“He’s also grandpa Dave to your kids so he is more than happy to host Daisy’s party. She said that popular girl at school keeps talking about how cool pool parties are.” 

“Goddamnit.” He repeated, shaking his head. “I guess I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?” 

“It would mean a lot to your daughter, Spencer.” 

“Fine, whatever.” He grumbled. “I will throw her the damn pool party.” 

“You’re not going to let me help?” She grunted. 

“If you help it will mean I have to talk to you, something I do not enjoy doing in case that wasn’t abundantly clear.” 

“Oh jeez, grow up Spencer.” She spat at him. “She’s our daughter. I want to help.” 

Spencer closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He just wanted this conversation to be over if he was perfectly honest. 

“You still bake, right?” He asked, his tone biting. 

“Yes.” 

“Bake her a cake. Buy some decorations. I’ll sort out the rest.” He saw the door opening behind her and his two girls came rushing outside towards them. 

He’d never been so happy to see them in his whole life. They barrelled towards the car and Maeve stepped aside.

Spencer unbuckled his seat belt and finally exited the vehicle, Daisy and Lily almost immediately falling into his arms. 

“Daddy!” Lily screeched as she nuzzled into his side.

“Hey dad.” Daisy hugged his other. 

“I missed you both so much.” He squeezed them tightly, placing a kiss on both of their heads. “Did you have a good weekend?” 

“Yes daddy!” Lily pulled back and turned back to the house where Bobby was holding out Taco’s leash. 

Lily ran back up the path towards her beloved scruffy dog. 

“What about you, pumpkin?” He asked Daisy who was unusually quiet. 

“It was ok.” She shrugged, heading past him to the back seat of the car. 

She got inside while Lily skipped back with the dog in tow and followed her sister into the car. 

“She’s been like this all weekend.” Maeve sighed. 

“Because she’s still mad at you. She’ll come around.” Spencer shrugged. “I, uh, I’ll see you later then.” 

“Sure. Can I call you about the party?” Maeve whispered so the girls wouldn’t hear through the open window.

I’d really rather if you didn’t, Spencer thought but instead he sighed and nodded.

“I guess.” He stepped backwards towards the car. 

“Thank you, Spencer. I really appreciate it.” 

“Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s fine.” He opened the door and slid in the driver’s seat. 

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the girls were buckled in and once he was happy they were he started the engine and rolled up the window. 

Lily spent the journey home regaling him with stories of their weekend while Daisy remained silently staring out of the window. 

Maybe if he allowed Maeve to take the reins with this party it would go some way to help repair her and Daisy’s relationship. 

He just needed to put his own anger towards his ex-wife aside in order to do right by his daughter. 

***

The next two weeks went by in a blur of work and planning a birthday party for a fourteen year old. 

The semester was rolling around to an end soon and as such Spencer was swamped with marking papers and aiding his students with last minute prep for their finals. 

He’d had several phone conversations with Maeve while he’d tried to put their issues behind so they could plan Daisy’s party together. As soon as the party was over he would go back to only speaking to her if had to. 

He continued to have coffee with you at least once a day but things were still stifled between you. He sometimes wondered why the two of you were bothering at all when it was clear this was going to end badly. 

But neither of you could find the strength to walk away. 

It was Friday afternoon, almost two weeks since the trip to Rossi’s cabin and you sat together in the courtyard sipping coffee. 

Spencer glanced at you but you weren’t looking at him, you focused your gaze on your drink in your hand. He took a sip of his own, gulping it down louder than necessary just to get your attention.

It did in fact force you to look up at him as he was wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“So uh, it’s Daisy’s birthday tomorrow.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. 

He told himself he’d meant to invite you sooner, especially after your conversation at the cabin about meeting his kids. But every time he’d gone to broach the subject he talked himself out of it. 

“Oh, isn’t she with her mom this weekend?” 

“She is, apart from tomorrow afternoon when I will be hosting a pool party for an obscenely large group of teenagers at Rossi’s.” He continued gnawing on his lip. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come?”

“To a fourteen year olds birthday party?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“We talked about you meeting my girls.” 

“We did but you didn’t bring it up again so I assumed you changed your mind.”

“I haven’t.” He was quick to insist. “So I thought tomorrow would be a good chance, less pressure I suppose? Rather than it being just the four of us.” 

“Uh, ok. Sure I can come.” You nodded but he noticed the way you nervously sucked in a breath. 

“My old team will be there so it would be great for you to meet the rest of them.” 

“Ok.” You sipped your coffee. 

“The only slightly weird part is that my ex will also be there.” He pulled a face, dreading your reaction. 

As expected your mouth fell open and you stared at him unblinking while he seemingly shrunk in on himself. Your hold on your coffee cup tightened as did your stomach at the thought of meeting Spencer’s ex-wife.

“Oh.” You looked back down at your drink. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“I know I painted her to be a bitch, I mean she was to me. But she’s…nice.” It pained him to say even the simplest of kind words about her and it showed. 

“Say that without grimacing and I might believe it.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I mean she wasn’t a good wife, but she is a nice person. And she knows I’m dating, and her boyfriend will be at the party. It’s not weird.” He shook his head, trying to convince himself as much as you.

“It’s weird.” 

“No, not weird. Perfectly normal.” His shaky smile didn’t seem to agree. 

“You really want me to come?” You pouted a little. 

“I really want you to come.” He nodded. 

“Fine, I’ll go to your daughter's birthday party.” You tried to ignore how your stomach tightened at that and instead forced yourself to smile. 

“Great, that’s great.” Spencer returned your false smile. 

Now that you meeting his kids was to become a reality, you both knew it was a bad idea. If the two of you didn’t have a future, why were you doing this? 

But Spencer couldn’t take it back now and you couldn’t change your mind. So no matter how complicated it was going to make things, it seemed tomorrow you would meet your boyfriend's daughters. 

Both of you had sinking feelings in your gut that this wasn’t going to end well. And you would soon come to find those gut feelings were right. 

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @foxy-eva @kbakery @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @redbulldinner @derekm24 @pinkiceee-prose

[flock-talk]

Allow me, for a moment, to have a little bit of emotion

I remember, 8 years ago, when I set up my first "bird room". I remember being so excited. I had seen pictures of other people's rooms (which were mostly cages and hanging boings at the time) and felt like I needed to be doing more, I wanted that so badly. I wasn't allowed to do anything permanent to the room and it was absolute hell to even get permission to make anything resembling a bird room. I had so many restrictions to stick by and god forbid a single fleck of bird poop be found somewhere.

The first room was just their cages, which were the species' minimum size, and a stand I made out of wood dowels and PVC elbows. My first "veggie zone" was a cardboard box and a pillow case. To keep the mess contained I had pinned up a fitted sheet, if they made a mess I couldn't rapidly clean the room would be taken away from me and they would be back to just small cages and a single countertop play set.

it wasn't cute but I was so happy with what I had accomplished given the restrictions I had and severe lack of finances. I was always upset with the way that it looked, it wasn't aesthetic, it didn't photograph well. The birds loved it and it was the start of my "bird room". I knew I wasn't done here.

Eventually I had sorted out how I could hang up some ropes without damaging the walls, given some of them were pretty sketchy and I would absolutely not recommend doing it. The one up there is literally hanging on by a pear hook to the light fixture. The rest were desperately tied around furniture and one to the blinds if I recall correctly. Oh man was I stoked, Mia and Zeeb were too. They got a cage upgrade for Christmas one year when I'd finally saved enough to do it, it was taller than I was, I could curl up inside one of the cages. It was Wild.

I remember being on Tumblr back then and I remember you all sending me messages, offering ideas, and being so invested in the making of the room. I was always blogging from that chair in the corner, it did give me serious back pain but it did the job. You were all so supportive and I refreshed my inbox 1000 times a day waiting for the next message, being a part of the community was such a big part of who I was. I still do that.

I also remember holding a lot of anger, I knew my room wasn't what I wanted it to be but there was nothing I could do to make it how I wanted. I didn't have any control over that. I also had a lot of doubt. There were some toys and things I made that weren't very pretty and even some made out of not-ideal materials (nothing toxic, think controversial like cotton rope) but at the time it's all I could provide. It was the best that I could do. Still made me anxious though, was it enough? was it right?

and I sit here in what will soon be my designated office looking over at Bird Room V2 and I just can't fathom how we got here.

I've made a bird room even larger and better than teenage me could have ever even imagined. I have drilled holes in to walls and ceilings without a thought, I chopped branches off of trees and I've used power tools to turn those trees in to safe perches. I wall mounted a cage simply because I wanted to, my veggie corner is made of plastic that I designed and assembled, there's a splash-proof bathing zone complete with a fountain, and so so so many toys that I've collected over the years. (that ladder right in the middle, to the right of the yellow toy is the exact same one as the images above). I was able to make it look pretty good too!

I suspended a huge tree branch from my ceiling purely because I thought the birds would like it and their foot health would benefit. I have been able to prioritize their health over all else, I have been able to act and make changes to better their care every step of the way, always improving, always changing, always thinking of them first and foremost. With the additional support of my wife who often comes up with new ideas to improve things before I do. Starting this room was her idea first!

and I am so happy with where we are. I am so happy with the care that I am currently providing. We've gone from being alone in a bedroom desperately scrounging things together while dodging the scrutiny of the people who surrounded me to not only accomplishing our dreams with love and support from our new family but inspiring others to do the same.

and that's incredible.

and I'm so happy that you were here with me along the way.

[lightbluuestars]

What pets do you think would best fit each papa? 💗

for primo, i honestly feel like he wouldn't have pets. instead, there are a handful of birds outside that always come over to him when he's working outside, they sit on the branches of trees and watch as he does his work. he'll feed them sometimes too. he likes those little birds.

secondo definitely has a snake or two. the reptiles are spoiled rotten. he loves his snakes so so so much, and he will bring them with him around the abbey, coiled around his arms and their heads on his shoulders. he takes them on walks outside too, they like it very much.

terzo has three maincoons, two which are almost half the size of him! they're huge! the third one is still a baby. in his office, he has a wall-mounted cat tree that goes all around the room. he also has a drawer full of treats for them as well. they roam freely around the ministry with bejeweled collars.

and of course, copia has his rats! he has four, all look exactly the same but he can somehow tell which one is which. he also has a drawer full of treats for his little babies, along with sweaters and things that some siblings have knitted them. he always has one roaming around in his office when he's hard at work.

[greypetrel]

Last Resorts of Good Men - Aftermath

Who else wanted to hug Dorian after Last Resorts of Good Men, tho? I'm sure I'm not the only one, come on, and this scene lives in my head rent-free.

Some feelZ I wrote more extensively here, an extract under the cut!

It’s a couple of hours before Dorian gets out of the tavern, and finds Lavellan napping against the wall just out of the tavern’s door, sitting on a stool and propped against the white lime of the outer wall, tucked securely in her cloak and feet well planted on the sittee, nose and cheeks red from the cold.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up…”

He shakes her delicately by her shoulder, meeting her eyes as she bats her lashes as she realises where she is and whom she’s looking at, just awake. Her eyes are red and a little puffy still, making her irises even greener than usual by contrast.

“What time is it?” She asks, groggily.

“Time for you to stop falling asleep in the snow, before your dashing Commander will have my head.”

“Mpf, it was only a nap.”

“I know, it’ll get me some good money on Varric’s poll. Come on.”

There is sarcasm and friendly teasing in the hole he leaves behind, raising up and reaching to fumble with the horse pasturer the elf has put on on both of the animals in the meanwhile. None of them fills the gap, tho, settling to work in silence, fitting in each other’s space automatically and not looking at the hole that’s still there. It’s the hug she didn’t give him in Skyhold nor in the day and a half of travel, it has the shape of Felix, putting them both at ease when they’re both to tired and upset to speak anymore. It’s the two hours that passed since Aisling left the two Pavus alone, and the incognita of the future. It’s the place they fit with each other with the ongoing rumour about them, and the fact that they’re by default unfounded, but by default they can’t be ignored. It’s the small, crucial, little chance one of them just had, and the small, crucial difference it painfully highlighted.

They walk out of the village still in silence, Aisling helping Dorian up cupping her hands without him asking, to offer a step closer to the saddle. He just nods in thanks, she oomphs when he steps on her hands, pushing him up. She mounts second, clicking her tongue to signal both horses to start. As it starts snowing lightly, she slips out her hood, pointing her nose up and breathing deeply.

The path needs to wind up an ill, running on the hilltop and looking out at misty valleys, grey and white all around dotted by black trees and still green conifers, before someone speaks again. And it’s Dorian.

“He says we’re alike. Too much pride.” He explains, words coming out slowly and heavily, and as she turns her head towards him, horses walking side by side, the snow falling too light to really pose a concern to be blocked down, his head is turned towards the hills, looking at everything and at nothing at all. “Once I’d been overjoyed to hear him say that, you know. Now… Now I’m not certain. I don’t know if I can forgive him.”

She knows when he’s faking a laughter, when he’s bitchy and snappy because he’s tired or upset or hungry, when he’s sincerely happy. She has never heard him this down, tho, and it clenches her heart painfully. She has a question on her tongue, about what and how, but it can wait until later. Not now, not here.

“Are you all right?” Is all she can ask, now, delicately.

“No.” He sighs, deeply. “Not really.”

He turns towards her, pulling the reins to bring the horse closer. With little success, and it’s mostly the elf who needs to slower and manoeuvre a little to pull them side by side, as much as it’s possible.

“Thank you for bringing me out here.” He continues, looking at her, finally. “It’s not what I expected but… It’s something. Maker knows what you must think of me now, after that whole display…”

He snorts, the deprecating irony still something to patch the hole that’s still there. But it’s just them, out there, no one around to see them or mind two random travellers on the road. So, she can stretch a hand, making grabby motion to beckon him on. He huffs, shaking his head but still grabbing her hand, a little unsurely.

“I think you have a huge heart that you don’t get yourself credit for, and that you’re very brave.” She replies, squeezing his fingers to underline it.

“Brave?”

“It’s not easy to abandon tradition and to walk your own path, is it.”

A pause, he doesn’t reply, just motions to let go of her hand, but she doesn’t follow it, still letting them hang between them. It’s not so comfortable, on horseback, but she cares little, leaning a little on the side against him, as much as she can without Walter mistaking it for a command. Luckily the fourier isn’t the brightest of horses, or the more attuned with her, and doesn’t veer.

“I wouldn’t have made it, in your place, and… I’m sorry, about before.”

“What for?”

“I didn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want, did I?”

“You horrible person, push me to do what?” “To bridge a gap you maybe didn’t want to cross. I… I never wanted to know my mother’s name.”

There’s another pause, and Aisling is the one, now, to look away, words coming out of her mouth automatically.

“It’s not to… Take the attention away, I swear, it’s just…” She huffs, shrugging her shoulders. “Some Dalish clans don’t accept more than three mages. The Keeper, the First and the Second apprentices. If another child shows magic, they’re either adopted by other clans, or… or left in the woods. That what happened to Minaeve, she was lucky to be found and brought to a Circle. I was luckier, the Lavellans had just a First apprentice, and I was adopted by them. I didn’t speak for two months, when I realised that my mother didn’t follow me. Sometimes parents cross the clans as well, but mines… Didn’t.”

It's Dorian’s turn to squeeze her fingers, and she cracks a smile, squeezing back at the gesture.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. But… I don’t know, I think it must count as something that your father came all the way down here to see you. That he actually looked for you and tried to fix it. But I hope I didn’t push you, did I? Maybe you didn’t want to, and that’s-“

“How do you- What- Can you maneuvre the mega-fauna some more??” He grumbles, now tugging at her hand and flapping the reins about, frowning at the horse.

Aisling giggles, asking what he wants to do, and devising a plan that just makes him fumble with uneasiness and worry, as she slips her feet away from the stirrups and carefully, cooing at the horses, steps from one to the other to sit in front of the Tevinter, with both her legs dangling on the side of poor, good Gwinevere and snaking her arms around Dorian’s torso. He grumbles a little that this seems like a much dangerous situation and they’re both gonna break their necks in a very stupid death, but as she squeezes him, laughing and promising him some riding lessons, he hugs her back, holding tight. It’s long overdued and none of them let go, settling against the other more comfortably: it’s just them, out there, no one’s rushing them over, no one’s watching or spreading rumours, they can just be, and fill the hole of before together.

“It’s ok. You’re not alone, you know?” She whispers, rubbing circles on his back as she feels him shivering.

He snorts, and hugs her tighter nevertheless, shaking his head a little -his moustaches tickle her cheek, making her giggle again.

“Look at you, already catching on the road of perdition of Dalish scandalous nonchalance about physical contact…” She teases, just to lighten the mood a little, but far from letting him go. Oh, she has needed a hug herself since she woke up on the mountain, cold as hell, under her weight in pelts, and with a dislocated shoulder she was forbidden to move, and she’s not letting go before he does.

“It’s definitely all your fault, you see, your mushiness is contagious. Mother was never a hugger either...” It’s self-derogatory again, but this time there’s no Vivienne to shoo her away, nor distance or holes that need to be filled.

“Mh, lucky I’m here to give all the hugs you’re owed, then…”

“Lucky indeed…”

They stay there for some more, the horses deciding to stop on their own, the snow giving them privacy and silence. It’s been the week, and none is really in a hurry to get back and put up masks again. But just for here, and now, they can let everything go and just breathe and exist. For once, it’s not Aisling the first to start crying.

[newtabfics]

Returned: Rauru x Fem!Reader NSFT Series. Part 1

Summary: Rauru is somehow revived in modern Hyrule and his instincts have gone insane as he realizes he's lost his mate.

Triggers for mild dubcon elements as well as just nsft stuff.

He had gripped his wife’s hand. If he had a heart still, he knew it’d be hammering. His mate before him always left him feeling content. Burying her felt like burying his own heart. He pulled her close as he felt the pull of the afterlife, knowing he was content being with her again before cold sucked him down.

With a shout, he lurched upward, blinking up at the thundering sky. His body trembled as he looked around, hoping to see her. When he found nothing but trees surrounding him, he let out an animalistic cry of anguish that sent the birds from their trees.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Please do be careful,” Zelda sighed as Y/N mounted her horse.

“Z, you have to relax. I know what I’m doing. Besides, it’s probably an Octorok. Master Link taught me enough to know what I’m doing when it comes to those suckers,” she said proudly.

Link snorted behind Zelda, looking away sheepishly at her look before she sighed and nodded. “Alright. Just don’t get over your head.”

“I won’t. I’ll retreat and report to any security members if it comes to it,” She promised before looking to Link. “Master, you should consider telling your woman to stop fretting,” She joked, earning a blush from both of them as she goaded her horse into a gallop. She laughed and waved back at them as Hateno Village disappeared behind her.

The journey through Hyrule to the Great Plateau wasn’t necessarily an arduous one. In fact, she counted herself lucky to not run into any storms in the three-day ride.

Her mission was to investigate the strange animal supposedly seen at the once-honored Temple of Time. Though it’d fallen into ruin after the Calamity, it was regarded as sacred ground. Not many people even dared to near the Great Plateau, mostly out of superstition. 

The Outskirt Stable reported a strange creature seen in the shadows of the Great Plateau. Zelda immediately wanted to investigate but everyone insisted she not as only a few short months had passed since her return. She only relented when Y/N offered to go in her stead.

She’d trained under Link, like many other alleged knights of Hyrule. Though the term fit, it hadn’t felt the same. Y/N trained under him as one of the many people who admired him.

As she trotted up to the Outskirt Stable, she was greeted by the many stable hands, smiling at the sound of the Stable Trotters–er, Stable Heroes, as they liked to go by now, playing a lovely show on the nearby stage.

“What brings you out here?” A man asked her as she entered the stable to register herself at the inn.

“Investigation. I’m sure you might’ve heard something about the weird animal out here,” She confessed, looking to him. Thanks to Link’s training, it didn’t take long for her to realize this guy was all talk. Most of his gear hardly looked used.

“Oh yeah. I’ve been avoiding the Plateua walls actually,” He confessed. “Apparently people have been avoiding it, thinking it’s a cursed spirit. With the Demon King’s defeat, people are saying something bigger might be coming.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” She chuckled, shrugging. “I mean, if what you say is coming does, then why did they hide? I mean, given they’re theoretically bigger than the Demon King, wouldn’t they have come about regardless of the Upheaval because they’re so much stronger.”

He smirked, nodding. “You got a good point. Good head on your shoulders.”

“It can do so much more,” She added, winking playfully.

She happily accepted following him out to a small camp away from the inn. There, he’d buried himself in her, her nails digging into his back as she met his thrusts.

Y/N grunted and moaned, biting her lip as he gripped her hips. His moans reverberated in her ears as he somehow managed to miss every sweet spot inside her, ensuring she hadn’t been fully satiated.

Maybe she could blame his lack of an actual length which she’d promised. Perhaps a few centimeters didn’t matter to anyone else that cared about him, but she didn’t so there was that. Thankfully, she did manage to get off enough to help her sleep that night.

Y/N sighed happily as her horse trotted up to the wall. She dismounted, patting her side as she pulled out an apple and dropped it for the horse. With a kick in her step, she began to scale up the hill into the plateau.

Looming overhead, she could see the sky islands. They never left after the Demon King’s defeat, which felt almost like a taunt to adventurers like her. She wondered if she could ever see Hyrule from above the clouds.

The sun began to set as she neared the Forest of Spirits, she stretched and scanned her surroundings. She blinked at the distant sound of bell chimes and looked up to the sky islands. She smiled as she made camp, thinking only of her investigation as she eyed the trees.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The embers died out as she lay in her tent, unaware of the being lurking closer to her. Drawn in by her scent, he moved closer to her.

His mate. His mate was nearby. He found her. He’d found his mate.

His inner beast was practically screaming with excitement as he crawled into the tent. He couldn’t stop as he crawled over her, kissing her exposed neck and rutting against her desperately. He snarled as he caught the scent of someone else on her. Someone had tried to make a claim on her and clearly failed.

She stirred at the contact before ripping away from him and kicking him away.

“Mate,” He rasped, grabbing at her leg. She kicked against him, forcing him back and out of the tent as she crawled out. As she made to escape the tent, he was on her again, burying his face into her neck and taking in her scent.

Y/N shuddered as his hands grabbed at her hips and shoved him away before running. The trees blurred past her as the chase began, trying to understand what he was. He was clearly intelligent, given he could speak Hylian, but it came garbled, almost foreign.

As she hid deep in the Forest of Spirits, her mind wandered to the way he’d rutted against her. She felt him through the clothing. She could barely make out his features, but he sure as hell wasn’t Hylian nor Zora.

When his hands found her, he pinned her to the nearby tree, eyes glazed from desperation as he loomed over her. It was then she finally took his clothing in and realized this man was Zonai.

Part Two

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Greetings M :) Sending you a request for the prompt: "Hot Chocolate and marshmallows - modern AU" with Fingon x reader please? Thank you!

Pairing: Modern! Fingon x Reader (second person POV)

Themes: Soft/Fluff

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 600+ words

Summary: Fingon looks forward to enjoying a cup of hot chocolate after coming home.  

Minors DNI

Divider by @estrelinha-s

Fingon peeled off his wet jacket and hung it on the wall-mounted rack by the door, looking about as miserable as he felt. The weather was particularly vicious this evening, with snow falling relentlessly and the wind having a sharp bite to it. All in all, it was a most wretched journey home.

At least the water ran hot while he showered, and the soap smelled faintly of orange while it glided over his skin. Ten minutes was all he took, but those ten minutes were glorious. When the last of the icy chill was driven out of his body, he stepped out of the shower to dry himself off and put on a pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater. And while the scents of fresh flowers on the mantle and the pine from the Christmas tree were invigorating, it was the scents from the kitchen that truly enticed him.

“Ah, what scents.” Fingon made himself comfortable in his usual seat at the breakfast nook. He took a deep breath and sighed dreamily. “Tomato soup. Grilled cheese sandwiches. Chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate and marshmallows for later.” You set his dinner on the counter and took your place beside him, giving him a discrete, measured look. Even in a pair of old jeans and a sweater, everything that was Valinorian about Fingon shone through. Tall and sharp, and with that sleek, waist-length dark hair of his, he stood out wherever he was and in whatever he wore. “I swear you are as skilled at sniffing things out as that beast your cousin calls a dog.”   

“Tyelko will not take kindly to Huan being called a beast.” Fingon swallowed the first spoonful of soup and closed his eyes. Fresh tomatoes. Herbs. Spices. It was just what he needed after a long day at the office and a miserable commute by train. “And you are an angel for making this for me.”

“I will make sure to remind you of that when we go gift shopping,” you remarked merrily. 

Soup went down the wrong way when he laughed. “Make sure that you do,” he managed between a fit of coughs. It cleared soon enough, and he returned to his meal. The soup continued to be a feast for the senses, as were the sandwiches that followed. The bread was crisp and warm, and the cheese melted in his mouth with each bite. Fingon then helped himself to more soup, and brought a second serving for you as well.

Dinner passed in companioble silence for a while. You then asked Fingon about his day and about his journey home. He grumbled about work and about the new troubles with his half-uncle. Then he complained about the project that had to be completed before he left for home. Finally, he turned to the weather.

“It started snowing an hour before I left work,” he continued, “and it continued to snow during the train ride home, and it was still snowing when I walked here. And it looks like it is going to keep snowing until tomorrow morning. At least I do not have to worry about going to work tomorrow or the days after that.”

"Well, I know of something that could put you in a much better mood than the soup,” you decide and return to the stove. The smell of soup slowly gave way to the sweet redolence of cocoa and chocolate and milk. Fingon pushed the bowl away from him, so eager was he to accept the steaming mug of hot chocolate you poured for him. He clapped his hands with glee when you sprinkled tiny spheres of white marshmallows on top, then grated nutmeg over them.

“Hot chocolate,” you smiled indulgently, “and marshmallows. Just like I promised. Because I am, as you say, an angel. Remember that when we do go gift shopping.”

A great deal wiser this time, Fingon waited till his laughter died before taking that first sip.

[code31-onthedancefloor]

you know what im just putting it in a separate post. this is my own ulixes backstory - content warning for parental+familial abuse/neglect.

Another stupid mistake.

Ulixes had forgotten to wash and put away the dishes. This had the immediate effect of enraging his father - who was hitherto consumed in a bad mood - and the expulsion of Ulixes from the family home for the night. Moronic of himself, Ulixes thought, to provoke him so thoughtlessly. Muffled in the kitchen and its yellowing white tiles with that awful, guttural shout, until Ulixes turned and ran - ran out the back door, to where his father would not follow under the siren call of another pyrholidon from the fridge. 

And so he sat, looking up at the house and the pale sky above it. An entire wooden thing slumping dauntless before him. It rotted and shook and groaned through stormy nights, as if aware of its absurd and depressing existence. Embarrassed by the silence of its residents. Apathetic to the omen of another hard winter. On the little porch around the back that nobody ever used - where it wouldn’t dampen his trousers - Ulixes wondered into the thrice-unread pages of his book: why doesn’t it just fall? 

Yet, the clocks kept turning, and the mice wouldn’t stop running through the pantry. Little scampering-scratching in the walls beside his bed. The pigeons that nested in the chimney each Summer. Ulixes Bücher, tucked away where no-one would try to find him. Empty pantries. Cold bed. Crumbling chimney. Ulixes, tucking himself away. That was the way of things. That was how nature was slowly reclaiming the Bücher household. Day by day. Night by night. 

Especially those long, long nights which were as black as pitch and twice as humid. Where he as a little boy would toss and turn and dream of the entire wretched house collapsing. In those dreams, he would wake up in the morning, surrounded by and buried in rubble - the mounted deer head, the ripped clothes, the four-poster bed in his parent’s room, the fine china that was never used - and Ulixes, sole survivor, a tiny dot in the wreckage, emerging. Fifteen tumbling steps to the left, and he would happen upon the remains of the family jewels. In this childish fantasy, Ulixes would sell the jewels and move far, far away. It didn’t matter where. The house just needed to fall. So why didn’t it? 

In a fit of frustration, he snapped his book shut. Wind tousled his hair as he meandered through the overgrown garden: through the long furs of grass - the deadnettle, which his older brothers would pick the flowers off to jokingly whip at him - past the old pine trees, all the way to the back. Here, a shed almost as old as the house itself stands vigil against the elements. A slightly brighter shade of wood, still dulled by years of use and disuse. A musky hint of rainy evenings past, warping the walls. Windowless. 

And no lock, of course - nobody would just let themselves into here, not in the East. Not where you were picked off the street and sent back across the canal for the most minor of public infractions. Except, nobody in the Bücher household has repeatedly accessed this little hovel either. Perhaps since his grandfather, as far as Ulixes knows. He did woodwork, or something to that effect, in his spare time. Back when they employed house-servants, this place could possibly have gone over the rusting equipment with a dust-rag. Now, all the erstwhile sawdust has simply blown away; a blessing for the jacket on Ulixes’ back which is quickly going to become a mattress under the dented, discoloured workbench - one of the only things nailed to the floor. 

He doesn’t know how many hours his grandfather spent here. By all accounts, he was a silent old man, praised by Ulixes’ siblings for scoring a once-in-a-lifetime engineering commission from a previously blossoming city. In fact, the Bücher household seem to have a thing for dying before Ulixes ever meets them. Apart from those who still remain in the house, he knows of one cousin who moved away to Jamrock, never to be heard of again. Every other member is locked in an eternal, poisonous game of one-upmanship over dinner, concerning wage brackets and managerial positions. Quoting the spiteful rants of his oldest brother - there used to be openings. And now there aren’t. Honest, skilled workers like he are forced back across the canal for work, where the jobs are cheap and the turnover is cheaper. His Aunt, spitting into a wine glass about mingling with the lower people, how the trickle-down up-swing has faded, how stagnancy has strangled her aspiration of a nice car and the subsequent respect that would blossom on everyone’s faces when she turns up in that. 

They have made it abundantly clear that whatever blessed the Bücher family three generations ago is never doubling back. The repairs the home direly needs will never be happening. Even if they did, the resounding result would simply be putting a plaster on a stab-wound. It doesn’t matter how much junk his father sells to put him through a return-on-investment education. So, why doesn’t the house fall? 

He breathes the afternoon light, perched in the doorframe; leaning. In contrast to the opulence of his grandparents’ tailor-made mansion, the shed is a utilitarian thing. Cuboid and sturdy, with its thick walls and insulated door - telling the tale of a person who would be complained away from the porch by neighbours or would not be dissuaded from partaking in outdoor hobbies in Winter. A floor softened by work boots. Flecks of paint and glue and oil staining in intervals. The whisper of pine needles reverberating around. So much wood, he thinks, like a little hole in a tree. A bird’s nest, from which he is watching the grey bulb of the sky grow dimmer and dimmer. Until the trees and the too-tall fence and the grasses turn into a shadow-puppet show. Until all Ulixes can hear is the wind. Until Ulixes can no longer read his book - only able to see a vague outline of his hands, and the stars still somehow shining through the city smog. Until he whistles, and the air stops whistling that jaunty little tune back into his ears, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. That is when he shuts the door to the shed. 

It is warm, Ulixes’ little nest. Thrumming with that insulation, that warp-curved geometry. It does something comforting to your brain, such like a reinforcing example does for a belief you already hold. He parts his chapped lips, and pushes his tongue to the back of his throat. A little click of sound is released. A pushing of a particularly satisfying button - or the trigger pulled on an empty gun-barrel? 

The click bounces off the walls. It is an instantaneous cacophony, finished in less than a second. But it reels back his mind from wandering back to earlier, where the dishes were stacked and dirty and his father’s face was… 

Click. Click. Click. 

Echo. Echo. It never fails. Nothing is used against him, here - where no one will look for him. 

Ulixes opens his book to the middle before resting his head on it. He knows by experience the floor will mercifully not hurt his body come morning. A jacket, brown, coming apart at the seams, slung over his thin frame. 

Tonight, he dreams again of the house falling down. The wind; terrible and exacting, will extricate the foundations from the tumour of Revachol East and tumble it in a chef-swirl across the street. Miraculously, it would ignore The Shed, just as Ulixes would awake the next day to ruins, only to completely disregard its contents in favour of walking into the encroaching Pale. As if there was something in there for him. In there, where the air whistles back at him. 

[grey-gazania-fic]

Beneath the Willow Tree

Elenwë is stressed. Luckily, Aredhel knows exactly how to help. Rated T.

Irissë was curled up in a chair in the sitting room, reading a book on the Great Journey and ignoring the sound of her brother pacing overhead, when someone began rapping sharply on the door.

“Irissë, can you get that?” Findekáno called.

She put her book down with a sigh. “I'm coming,” she said as she neared the door. She yanked it open with a huff, but her irritation changed quickly to surprise when she saw Elenwë standing on the steps. Her horse, Tinwë, stood unsaddled on the lawn a few strides away.

“We're going riding, Irissë,” Elenwë said. “Come on.”

Irissë looked Elenwë up and down. Her long, golden hair was loose and windblown, she wore no cloak or shoes, and dust coated the hem of her dress, cut high to accommodate her swelling stomach.

“Right,” she said. “Give me 30 seconds.” Ducking back inside, she hurriedly tied her hair back and shoved her boots on. As she laced them up, she shouted up the stairs, “Káno! I'm going riding with Elenwë – not sure when we'll be back!”

“Irissë,” Findekáno shouted back, clearly peeved, “you said you'd be home today! I wanted to--”

Whatever he'd wanted to do was lost as she left the room, pulled the kitchen door shut behind her, and jogged the few yards to the stable. Nórimo champed and pawed at the straw when he saw her. “Ready for a good hard ride, boy?” she asked, rubbing his nose. “I don't think Elenwë is planning a trip to the market.” She looked at his saddle and bridle on the wall as she unlatched his stall, shrugged, and led him out bare before mounting up.

“Ammë would have fits if she saw that,” she said when she reached the front of the house, pointing to the fish pond. “Good thing she's not home.”

Elenwë followed her finger and saw Tinwë drinking placidly as the fish darted to and fro around her nose. “Oh dear,” she said, bringing a hand to her mouth as she blushed. “I didn't even notice!”

Irissë laughed. “It's all right. But let's go before Káno decides to come after us.”

Elenwë nodded and mounted Tinwë, and they headed out of the city.

“Race you to the willow,” Elenwë challenged, once they had reached the hills outside of Tirion.

“You're on,” Irissë said, leaning forward over Nórimo's neck with a broad grin.

The horses thundered over the hills to Irissë's favorite tree, a great, sweeping willow whose boughs drooped all the way to the ground, creating a perfect screen for whomever chose to sit beneath it. She had spent many afternoons there with her cousins and, more recently, her sister-in-law, who had turned out to be wilder than she seemed at first glance.

Glancing to the side, Irissë saw that Elenwë was beginning to pull ahead. “Wow, look at that!” Irissë cried, pointing to a random spot in the air.

“What?” Elenwë craned her neck, looking around wildly for whatever Irissë had noticed, and Irissë took advantage of her distraction to urge Nórimo forward with a whoop.

“Hey!” Elenwë shouted behind her as she reached the tree, “you cheated!”

“You fell for it!” Irissë said, laughing. She swung to the ground and gave Nórimo a pat on the neck, letting him loose to graze.

Elenwë stuck out her tongue as she, too, dismounted, pushing her tangled hair out of her face. Flopping onto the ground, she let out a deep sigh. “It's so nice to be able to breathe,” she said. “I was going crazy in that house. I feel like no one has anything to do but fuss over me these days.”

“It's that bad?” Irissë asked, lying on her stomach beside her sister-in-law. She reached over and began to play with a few strands of Elenwë's hair.

Elenwë smiled at her touch. “They can't agree on anything – your mother tells me to eat beans, my mother tells me to eat lots of spinach but no meat, Meldalossë says spinach and beans are good but that I shouldn't avoid meat, and Turvo treats me like I'll break if anyone so much as looks at me oddly.”

“Small wonder you're so stressed.”

“And the worst bit--” Elenwë stopped, blushing furiously, and said quickly, “You can't tell anyone I said this.”

Irissë nodded solemnly. “You know I won't.”

“I know,” Elenwë acknowledged. “But the worst bit – the worst bit is that we've done nothing more than kiss since I told him I was pregnant!”

“You've-- wait, why?” Irissë stared. “He's crazy about you! What is he worried about?”

“He's terrified that we'll hurt the baby somehow if we do anything,” Elenwë snorted. “It's ridiculous.” She rolled onto her side so she could look up at Irissë's face. “I even thought about asking Meldalossë to tell him that it's nonsense! But she's so stern – I'd be embarrassed. And I don't know that he would listen to her. She is very close to your uncle's family.”

“That should be a good thing, shouldn't it?” Irissë asked, reaching over and rubbing Elenwë's shoulders. Elenwë relaxed under her hands, and Irissë smiled. “Meldalossë's overseen sixteen pregnancies just between Miriel, Haruni, Ammë, and Aunt Nerdanel, and at least a dozen more outside the family. She knows what she's doing.”

Elenwë was silent for a moment. “Turvo-- look, you can't repeat this to anyone, either,” she finally said. “Turvo is really worried about your uncle. He's afraid that Fëanáro is going to try to do your father harm, and maybe the rest of your family as well. And I don't want him to start thinking he can't trust Meldalossë to take care of me.”

“Uncle Fëanáro wouldn't do that,” Irissë said, with more confidence than she felt. “He wouldn't dare.”

Elenwë snorted. “I don't think there's anything he wouldn't dare if he thought it would serve a purpose. He frightens me, Irissë. Even you can't deny that he's been volatile lately.”

“No,” she said, quietly. “You're right. And – well, I haven't seen Curvo much, now that he's married, but Tyelkormo has been odd as well. Evasive. More quick-tempered, too, and that's saying something. Even Káno and Maitimo had a fight a few days ago. I can't even remember them ever fighting before. But look,” she said, moving closer to Elenwë, “let's not talk about this now. We can't do anything about Uncle Fëanáro, but I can solve one of your other problems, if you want me to.”

“Oh?” Elenwë asked. “Which problem is that?”

In answer, Irissë leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.

“Oh,” Elenwë said softly, looking up with wide grey eyes. Irissë's breath caught in her chest, and she caressed Elenwë's breasts through her dress.

“We don't have to,” she said, swallowing.

“No, I think I like this solution,” Elenwë whispered. She reached up and pulled Irissë closer for another kiss, loosening her hair from its tie.

When Irissë lifted Elenwë's skirt and slid her hand up between her thighs, Elenwë's soft moan seemed like the most glorious sound she'd ever heard.

“Feeling a bit better?” Irissë asked afterwards.

“I think so,” Elenwë said, laughing a little. They were sprawled beneath the tree, Elenwë's head resting on Irissë's stomach as Irissë deftly worked some of the tangles from Elenwë's hair. “Better enough that I can go home tonight and not feel like screaming. That's something.”

“We can always do this again,” Irissë said, trying to sound casual. “You know, if you start feeling too stressed.”

Elenwë reached up a hand and caught Irissë's fingers with her own. “I think,” she said, “that I'd like that very much.”

[stevishabitat]

Tonight while I was working (from home in my home office/bedroom/living room), kiddo (11yo) sat on my bed and made fire starters for our upcoming camping trip.

Kiddo looked up some ideas on Pinterest and picked a few to try.

On my short break we watered the garden and collected supplies for the firestarter project.

Kiddo then sat and chipped up old wax, cut up warped taper candles, stripped dried needles off our winter holidays tree (it's been seasoning in the yard since January), broke up dry bark, snipped straw and packing paper into shreds.

In between phone calls, I helped melt the wax chips on my candle warmer and pour over the assembled fire starters.

We had lots of good discussions when I had free moments. Talking about science and nature and plans for the weekend. Kiddo asked about some of my phone calls, and we found locations of callers on my world map wall tapestry.

Kiddo heard me talking to a coworker about ISBN numbers and wanted to know what they're for. So we got out a few books and examined copyright pages and learned how to search isbns on bookstore websites and the library.

We had the white board out and kiddo wanted to show me some Minecraft math they'd done recently to see if it was correct (it was. good luck on those emeralds, kiddo!).

On my "lunch break" we listened to a nature podcast about edible insects (definitely want to try roasting June bugs & cicadas).

Over my six hour shift we covered multiple "school subjects" and a lot of topics that wouldn't necessarily be covered in fifth grade schooling.

Tomorrow we want to try a math formula for determining the age of a tree based on circumference and species growth rate.

We're also going to measure a damaged part of the kitchen wall and cut some drywall to fit - probably won't try to mount it before work. And maybe do some measurements for a cat door to the catio. I really need to borrow a reciprocating saw....

Not sure I can do another six-hour work/teaching combo shift tomorrow. So hopefully I can get kiddo started on an independent project before work.

Guess I'll stay up a bit and look for ideas on Pinterest, lol.