#early potato planting

[balkanradfem]

So we finally had a nice sunny Saturday, and I went to the community garden, for the first time in months, to plant potatoes! I haven't been for a long time because we had proper, cold winter here; freeze every night, and it snowed twice. And when the ground is frozen overnight and it snows a lot, plants aren't growing that much, so leaving them unattended for a month is fine.

When I got there, the soil was nice and soft and perfect for spring planting. Here's my method of planting potatoes:

First I dig little holes, each for one potato, and I put the potatoes in those holes. It does not need to be deep. Then, instead of burying them, I add a bunch of mulch on top – what I had with me were tree leaves. It can be straw or hay or any half-composted organic material. I've done this for 2 years and it does the job beautifully every time. When potatoes grow their leaves out, you add more mulch on top, so the potatoes can keep producing. They put some roots into the ground, but they produce all of the potatoes in the leaves, so that you don't have to dig them out, you can just feel your hand into the leaves and pull out grown potatoes. That saves a lot of labour! It also lets me spy on the tubers, and I love spying.

I haven't made a garden plan yet, so I just randomly picked few spots and planted about 20 potatoes, these are going to be ready to eat in the beginning of summer. I'll plant more in the fields on another sunny day.

[ceruleanmindpalace]

This is an impressive harvest of potatoes, considering I did not plant any this year.

I do wonder why there are so many huge ones, our potatoes are usually not this huge. They are massive. Maybe the 'parent' one grew on and is not edible? Or they really had an early start because they were covered all winter with foil? Feel free to educate me.

Imagine my (bad) surprise when I walked into the garden in April, carrying my roughly 100 bean plants to put them in the raised bed only to pull back the foil and discover it was already occupied by potatoes. I plugged half of them out to make space for the beans, but left the rest.

I guess we did not do the best job harvesting them last year and left a lot of small ones in there that were very cosy and happy under the foil.

[rohirric-hunter]

Angstober Day 02: Countdown

I did not write this on the second. I wrote it this morning.

~*~*~*~

The final day dawns, and you are up early.

Well, you believe it is dawn. The sun does not penetrate the cloud cover above, which you imagine is thickest to the east, where it originates. But the earliest risers in the Camp of the Host have begun to stir, and you with them.

Breakfast is surprisingly cheery.

You all know what lies before you, and what lies behind. And you all know that today is likely the last day you will ever see. There is no reason, you suppose, for the cooks to be stingy. The rations are still road rations, but the helpings are larger than you had expected, and more dressed up. You find what remains of the Grey Company gathered around a cookfire with a few Rangers of Ithilien. Most of the party is known to you, and you laugh along with the others as Radanir and Thurindol exchange barbed words with no heat behind them about the use of Elfspear as a seasoning. The plant they are arguing about bears little resemblance to the Elfspear you are familiar with, which grows in spiky bunches close to the ground up and down the Great East Road from the Brandywine to the Hoarwell. You daren't venture a guess as to whether or not they are related. You suspect Orthonn knows, but he watches the argument with a smirk, and does not offer his opinion on the matter.

Radanir and Thurindol both likely know too, you reflect, but the argument is comfortable. It feels safe.

Your back and shoulders still ache from — you do not allow your mind to drift to such dark thoughts, not yet. There are better things to reflect on. Instead you set your empty plate aside and stretch the sore muscles. Lothrandir sits beside you, startling you. You had not heard him approach. But he does not speak, only smiles sadly, and takes your arms, gently repositioning them into what you can feel at once is a more effective stretch. You nod your thanks, and he accepts it with a gentle squeeze of your hand, before turning his attention back to the entertainment in the center of the little breakfast circle.

Breakfast cannot last forever. The minutes are counting down until you must all go your separate ways, to attend to your last duties before the end.

But for now, you laugh, as Thurindol finally wrests the Elfspear from Radanir's hands and throws it into the pot, drowning out Radanir's cries of protest with a triumphant exclamation: "It's good for you!"

"And tastes of mud from the swamps of Angmar," Radanir retorts.

You pull your cloak about yourself and lean your head against Lothrandir's shoulder as they argue, tuning out the details and relaxing in the moment. Part of you wishes Hathellang was here — but no. He is — not safe, but safer. He will have a chance, the chance you tossed aside when you agreed to come here, to follow Strider the Ranger to certain doom in the hopes of buying time. He can run and hide and live.

Breakfast will be over soon — but until then, you are content.

[darknight3904]

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴��𝘯'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 (2017). 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯 𝘝, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦. 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵 18+

𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥/ 𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 30𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 6.6𝘬

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 / 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

The Munson's farm was a welcome sight after nearly two days on the road. Despite your protests, Logan insisted he would drive the past 40-something hours. The shitty car Logan had bought couldn't reach above 60 miles an hour and then getting stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic had caused Logan's mood to worsen.

"We're only staying for supper." Logan declared when he pulled the keys from the ignition.

You glanced into the backseat at your companions, who looked even more tired than you were. Your gaze fell onto Charles who gave you a sly wink in return. If he could still use his powers you were sure he'd be in your head saying that Logan was full of shit.

You grumbled in frustration when the potato in your hands slipped and bounced to the floor. You had killed two men a few days ago, and now you were struggling with a potato the size of your fist.

"It's alright, I can do it. I'm sure you're tired." The woman, Kathyrn, said.

"No, let me help. You're giving us a free meal, the least I can do is help cook it." You smile, scooping the fallen vegetable off the tiled floor.

You'd never admit it to her but your lack of potato peeling skill is due to the pain in your hands. The swollen veins and unhealed cut from earlier are driving you up the wall as you peel and slice away. You can tell Kathyrn wants to ask you about them but is keeping it in.

"It's a skin condition." You lie, "It's not contagious though, don't worry you're safe."

She gives you a kind smile, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

"I get it a lot, don't worry about it." You reply

She nods and then moves on to preparing ingredients for what looks like a pie.

"Your home is beautiful." You compliment, unsure what to say. It's been so long since you got to talk to another woman. You don't count the old lady who works at the motel with you, all she talks about is her bunions. Laura doesn't really count either, all you've heard was screams when she sliced those men up days ago. That and her growls when the convenience store's horse ride stopped working. Logan had saved the horse from an early death by gifting a quarter to the little girl, buying her another ride.

"Thank you." Kathryn says, "She's old but we love her."

"It's better than where we live." You say, thinking of the ugly smelting plant you were glad to finally be free of.

Kathryn eventually shoos you away from the potatoes and teaches you how to roll the pie crust out so it doesn't stick to the cutting board, and then she lets you taste the sweetest blueberry you've ever had.

Charles calls your name from his spot on the couch, pointing out Logan who was descending the stairs.

"Oh, Logan." You smile, "Did you trim your beard?"

"No."

He's lying. What an idiot.

Will had insisted Logan take a shower, Logan had resisted but the friendly farmer eventually wore him down, telling Logan he smelled was enough to get him into the bathroom.

"You look nice." Kathryn compliments

Logan gives her a small nod before crossing the room to you.

"What're you cooking?" He asks, leaning against the counter next to you.

His question goes in one ear and out the other. You're focused on the flannel and jeans he must've borrowed. They're a bit too small but you thank the gods above that Will Munson is smaller than Logan because the fabric is certainly hugging him in all the right places. You swore his jeans would split if he even tried to bend down in them. Thank god Charles had convinced Logan to stay. This was officially a glorious day in history. In fact, you're sure if they actually ripped you'd be sent right to heaven.

"She is working on a blueberry pie, my mother's recipe," Kathryn answers for you.

"Don't fuck it up." Logan teases, reaching out to gently tap your hip

His tone makes you bristle and has you breaking out of your trance and kicking at his shin. He lets out a hum of discontent but ignores whatever pain you might've caused him.

"Watch your mouth." You scold him, looking over at Laura, and particularly, Nate sitting on the floor, playing a game of checkers.

Logan scoffs at your command before stealing a blueberry from the bowl and popping it in his mouth.

"There won't be any pie if you eat all the ingredients." You groan, snatching the bowl away.

"Just give me one more," Logan asks reaching for the bowl that you keep from his reach, "I'm a growing boy."

"Go take a nap." You swat at his hand, and he hisses in pain when your hand hits his, "You're not growing, you're like a thousand years old."

"M' not tired." Logan lies, reaching again.

"You're full of shit." You reply

Kathryn lets out a warm laugh, "You two are cute. Bickering like high school sweethearts."

You feel your face warm and Logan shakes his head beside you, clearly flustered as well.

"They basically are." Charles says suddenly, "They used to be students at my school."

"Who had a school?" Will returns from his nightly rounds with his animals.

"My uh Dad was just telling your wife about his school for...special needs kids," Logan says

"They were both his students," Kathryn says

You can tell she likes the picture Charles has painted. Young love blossoming and lasting a lifetime, it was like something out of a movie.

"Logan never paid attention to me while we were there." You smile, "Too hung up a girl named Jean."

Logan glances over at you unsure of what to say or do.

"It's alright though, I've got him now." You assure, hoping you haven't overstepped by mentioning Jean.

Dinner and pie eaten, you find yourself fixing blankets on a small pullout bed the Munsons offered you and Logan. You were glad Logan had relented and agreed to stay. One night wasn't going to kill anyone.

"It's nice here." You say into the darkness, thinking of how wonderful this day had turned out.

"Yeah, it's fine," Logan grumbles, slinging an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him

"This is what life looks like, Logan." You say, hiding your face in his neck

"We'll have a life once we drop Laura in North Dakota." He says

"We really have to take her there?" You ask despite her foul attitude, the little girl was growing on you. If you closed your eyes tight enough you could even see yourself raising her with Logan by your side of course.

"She's not a stay cat. Besides, if we keep her they won't stop coming after us." Logan reasons honestly

"She's your daughter, Logan." You mumble into his skin sadly

"Never asked for a kid." He answered, his gruff voice normally calms you but tonight it upsets you.

"I know, but-"

"No buts. Go to bed." He says

"Gotta go pee." You lie, not wanting to be near him just this second. Didn't he feel anything for Laura?

Logan lets out an angry sound but lets you go, saying something about coming back quickly.

You tiptoe upstairs to the bathroom, trying not to make the steps creak too much. The bathroom door opens and you run right into Kathryn.

"I am so sorry." You say quickly

"It was my fault." She says, "I shouldn't swing the door open so quickly."

You look at her and her face is green with some clay mask that she applied.

"Nice mask."

You mean it as a joke, just a friendly jest since she reminds you of an alien right now.

"Would you like some? It's an overnight mask, it keeps the skin soft."

You back peddle, insisting she doesn't need to do that.

"Oh please, I've only been blessed with a son, as much as I love him it'd be nice to have a girl around here every once in a while."

Before you know it, you're sitting on the closed toilet seat while she paints your face with the cucumber scented stuff.

"Oh, I should've asked if this was going to hurt your skin." Kathryn suddenly pauses.

"My skin?" You ask

She glances down at your arms.

"Oh, right. It's fine. My uh skin will be fine." You affirm

"Does your daughter like doing girlie things with you? I try to take Nate shopping and all he does is whine." Kathryn says, "Always asking me when we can go home or buy some overpriced pretzels."

You're not sure if Laura would like "girlie" things. You suppose the closest you'd gotten to it with her was at the casino and then in the hotel when you detangled her hair. Not that it matters since you'd be dropping her in North Dakota and then running off to buy a stupid boat.

"Honestly, sometimes I can't tell what she's thinking. She's...not my kid." You say, according to Logan, she's not anyone's, "She let me brush her hair the other night though."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just presumed since you and Logan seemed so close." Kathryn says, "It's nice she lets you do things like that for her."

"Logan and I aren't even married." You say, glancing down at your left hand.

It didn't matter, marriage. So many things were more important right now. You did wonder though, would he ever ask? Sure, the two of you had just finally...well you didn't even know what you were to him. A girlfriend? Partner? Lover?"

"Men, they're always wasting time aren't they?" Kathryn sighs

"Tell me about it." You respond, thinking of the past year you spent pining over Logan. Did he feel the same way the whole time? Why did he bother waiting so long?

"You're done." She declares, "Tomorrow morning you can wash it off and your skin will be softer than ever."

You glance in the mirror at your now-covered face. Honestly, you look ridiculous.

"Thank you." You sheepishly say

"No problem." Kathryn smiles

You bid Kathryn goodnight and then float back down the steps to a now-sleeping Logan. As soon as you slip under the covers, he shifts, moving to rest his head on your chest.

"Long bathroom break." He points out

"I fell in." You joke

Logan lets out a short laugh, arms squeezing your sides.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Logan."

You wake up the next morning to Logan's booming voice scaring you.

"What. The fuck."

You look over at him, his eyes are wide and he looks utterly confused.

"What is your problem?" You groan, wanting to go back to bed

"What happened to your face?" Logan asks

"You shouldn't say that to a woman, Logan." You say, "It's a face mask relax."

"You're blue." Logan points out, distaste evident in his voice.

"Good." You grumble, where was his energy coming from? "And actually I'm green. It's cucumber scented."

"You know that alien emoji you sent me a few days ago? That's what you look like right now."

"You're an asshole."

You drag yourself upstairs, this time to go to the bathroom for real, and to wash your face off. Upon your return, you see the asshole er you mean, Logan, has propped himself up on the pillows and has his glasses on, paging through files Laura had in her bag.

"Much better." He says looking at you over the edge of his glasses

"Glad my face appeases you." You roll your eyes, trying to pretend he doesn't look otherworldly with those glasses.

"You don't need that shit. Pretty just the way you are." He says, motioning for you to join him in bed again.

You crawl over to him, resting your back against his chest. Your eyes scan the papers he holds, looking at all the nameless children Transigen has made.

"What're you looking for?" You ask

"Just, reading, bub. Wanna know more about this Transigen shit."

You nod and reach out to trace the scars that litter his left hand. Basking in the silence you let yourself relax on the soft sofa bed with Logan behind you.

"What are we, Logan?" You ask suddenly overcome with the need to know.

"What?" He asks, dropping the file that was opened to Laura's page onto his lap.

"What am I to you? I want to know what you're thinking. Is this some short-lived fling because I don't want to end up crying my eyes out over you if you were never taking it serious to begin with." You asset, sitting up and facing him

Logan sighs, taking in your determined face. He reaches out and takes your hand in his, tracing the ugly veins that mar your skin.

"You used to scare me you know." He says, pulling the glasses off his face.

"What?"

"Your feelings I mean. Back when we first got settled in Mexico and you were cooking and doing shit for me. It scared me, your feelings, my own for you. The idea of committing, it used to scare me."

"So we're some, what? Some casual thing?" You ask as a pit of despair opens in your stomach.

"What? No. Would you let me finish?" Logan asks

"Sorry."

He nods and starts again, his voice full of hesitance.

"But now I...shit I'm not good at this."

"Keep going."

You squeeze his hand in reassurance, hoping he opens his mouth again. It takes a moment but his deep voice fills your ears again.

"I want this, " He motions between the two of you, "You and me. For however long we have left in these shit bodies, I want it."

He pauses for a second scarred hands taking yours. "If you want to label it, we can. Lovers, partners, boyfriend, girlfriend. I don't care. I just..."

Logan meets your eyes and you let out a small laugh full of joy,

"I want you to be mine."

You smile and gently push the files off his lap, replacing them with yourself. Looping your arms around him so they rest on his shoulders, your hands run up the back of his head and thread through his hair. A gentle, chaste kiss is pressed to his lips. The scruff of his beard tickles as you pull away.

"I'm all yours."

"Good." He laughs, leaning in to let his nose brush yours, your eyes flutter shut as you take him all in.

Logan flips you onto your back and you let out a gasp that is entirely too loud considering the early hour. Logan presses another kiss to your lips and then to your forehead.

"Wanna show you how much you mean to me." He rasps, as he begins to pepper gentle kisses down your neck.

His hips grind into yours and you let out a quiet whimper when his fingers slip below the band of your pants.

"No panties?" Logan whispers, his voice teasing.

"It's more comfortable like this." You pout truthfully

"Easier access too."

Your face heats up in embarrassment but you don't have much time to feel ashamed as his thumb begins to circle your clit while his others push into you. Your eyes scrunch shut as your hips begin to arch up off the pull-out bed.

You let out a small gasp when he pulled his fingers out to spit down on them, easing the slight burn that had been there before. You can tell his ego is soaring with each groan and whimper that leaves your lips.

His spare hand comes up and tugs at the bottom of your shirt. You indulge him and pull it off, grinning when he lets out a deep groan. Your eyes shut again when his head dips down to gently suck at one of your breasts, tongue working wonders on the sensitive flesh.

"Open your eyes," Logan commands suddenly.

You let your eyes flutter open to meet his intense gaze.

"So pretty." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

It's all so intimate as you whimper his name when your climax begins to build. your hand flies down to where his is, gripping his wrist like you want him to stop.

Logan lets out a low chuckle when you cum. He claims your lips with his own, swallowing the loud moan that threatens to wake the whole house.

"Can I suck you off?" You breathily ask when he finally lets you go

Logan looks over at you, obviously not expecting that to come out of your mouth.

"You don't have to." He says, his eyes falling to your lips.

He was definitely imagining them on his cock. What a pervert your man was.

"C'mon, I've never gone down on anyone before. Let me try with you." You smile

Logan's head snaps back up, "You mean to tell me you've been alive how long and you've never gone down on a guy...or girl?"

You shake your head and he pauses, letting his eyes rake over your still-clothed body.

"How's that even possible?"

"Dunno." You shrug and drop to your knees in front of him.

Your hands come up to his pants and gently tug, silently asking for permission. He shakes his head but lifts his hips up anyway.

Your hips wiggle in excitement when he pulls them down, letting the fabric pool at his ankles. His cock springs up and you marvel at it. It's the first time you're seeing it for real. Unless of course, you count that time you accidently walked in on him masturbating a few months ago. He couldn't look you in the eye for a week after that incident.

"Remember that time I walked in on you?" You breathily ask

Logan's face turns red at the memory. You can tell he doesn't want to be reminded.

"You shouldn't have seen that." He says, his voice full of guilt.

You grin, "I just wish you would've asked me to join you."

And then you're licking your lips and gently kissing the tip of him. You gently let your fingertips brush up him before opening your mouth and spitting.

"Keep going." He orders, his voice is desperate.

You do so happily letting your mouth open up and take him in. Gently sucking at first but slowly becoming a bit rougher as he lets out quiet noises.

"Fuck." Logan gasps from above, "You sure you haven't done this before?"

Your hands stroke what doesn't fit in your mouth and the salty taste of precum is staining your tongue. The slight ache of your jaw is becoming annoying but you ignore it, looking up at Logan whose eyes are shut tight.

"Ah, fuck me," Logan declares as a warm spurt of cum hits the back of your throat. His head lolls back and you groan and try to swallow it all down as he fills your mouth, whimpering when it begins to spill out of your lips.

Logan gently pulls his hips away from your mouth and pulls you up towards him. He looks up at you as he sits on the bed while you stand, placing your hands on his shoulders. His hand comes up to wipe at the cum that's escaped your lips.

"That wasn't your first time doing that." He rasps, his voice heavy with euphoria.

You give him a sly smile, "No, it wasn't."

The sound of creaking steps has the two of you jumping back under the covers. You haven't seen Logan move this fast in ages as he yanks the covers up so you're covered. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest as he scrambles to tuck himself back into his pants, clearly not interested in traumatizing whoever is walking downstairs.

"Morning, Howletts." Will greets, walking into his kitchen.

"Morn-"

Logan's voice is a bit higher than normal and he coughs a bit.

"Morning."

Guilt wells up in your chest. You and Logan had just defiled this man's poor pull-out sofa bed. It doesn't help that Logan's big hand is resting on your hip, drawing teasing little circles on your skin.

"Good morning." Kathryn greets the two of you as she descends the steps

Luckily she too, goes off to the kitchen, asking her husband about coffee. You're about to demand Logan pass you your shirt which lays forgotten on the floor when much to your horror, Laura walks down the steps.

Your prayers are denied when instead of entering the kitchen, she walks towards you and Logan, sitting on the recliner opposite of you.

Logan looks over at you, unsure of his next move. The obvious one is that he should get up and attend to Charles who is surely awake now but you don't want him just leaving you half-naked. A small groan escapes your lips and you look at Laura who is already staring, probably trying to work out why the covers are up to your chin.

"Laura, can you um, grab that shirt at your feet?"

She glances down before passing it to you. Logan lets out an amused chuckle before gently lifting the blankets to hide you behind them while you redress.

"Keep laughing and I'll cut your dick off." You threaten, pulling the shirt down your body.

"You like it too much to do that."

You send a rough punch into a muscled arm and he drops the blanket.

"Hey, don't hit me." He says, a frown on his pretty face.

You stand up, ignoring him and beckoning Laura to go to the kitchen with you. She walks ahead of you and quick as lightning Logan reaches out and gently slaps your ass. You whirl around to see his face full of boyish amusement, making him look years younger.

"Wasn't me."

Charles somehow manages to convince Logan to spend the day with the Munsons, claiming he's too tired to leave. You can't quite tell if he's faking or not, but before you know it you're watching Logan help Will with the horses you saved on the road yesterday.

"You sure you have to leave tonight? You and Logan still look exhausted." Kathryn points out as the two of you lounge on the front porch in rocking chairs.

You couldn't admit to her that the source of both of your exhaustion was from defiling the sofa bed.

"Ah, well we should make up the lost time. Plus we don't want to overstay our welcome." You sigh

"Nonsense. Tell you what. I'll give you our phone number. If you guys ever pass through here again, we can get together." She smiles

"We're not that cool, you don't want to spend more time with us." You reject

"I happen to think you and your little family are wonderful. Besides even Laura and Nate are getting along, he even let her borrow his iPod." She points over to the two kids, Laura is watching Nate climb a tree, iPod in hand.

"Alright, fine." You relent, not having the heart to tell her you didn't plan on ever driving through here again.

"Great, I'll be right back."

Your eyes scan the peaceful land you're sitting on. The setting sun and the chirps of birds fill your eyes and ears as you look around. Eventually, your eyes fall on Logan who has shed his shirt, leaving him in the white tank top he often wore. Your eyes greedily drink up the exposed skin as his arms flex while he helps lift a hay bale for Will. As disgusting as it might be you want to run your lips across those sweaty biceps, this morning had not been enough to quelch the fire in your stomach. Logan was simply a wet dream come true.

"Does he know you check him out constantly?"

Kathryn's voice has you sputtering, embarrassment flooding your system. She laughs loudly and passes you the paper with her number.

"I saw you last night when he came out in that flannel and jeans, I'm honestly surprised the seams didn't burst, your man is rather muscly." She teases

"Ah yeah, Logan has always been well-built." You say, thinking of how strong he was.

"When we were lying in bed last night, Will asked me how long it'd take for him to look like that. I told him not in a million years."

You laugh freely at that, trying to imagine Will Munson suddenly becoming as muscle-filled as Logan was.

Kathryn lets out a love-sick sigh, "I never want him to change though. Will is perfect in my eyes. Just the man for me you know?

"You two gossiping about me?" Will asks stepping onto the porch

"We sure are. All bad things." You grin, "Like the time you left the toilet seat up."

Will laughs, his warm gaze landing on his wife, "I haven't done that in years."

"Sun's setting. We're leavin' soon Logan declares as he walks over, shaking Will's hand in thanks.

You nod and stand up, shoving Kathryn's phone number into your jeans pocket.

After one more dinner, Kathryn insisted on it, you're packing the truck up, while Logan is arguing with Charles upstairs who has spent the day in bed, reading and eating a package of double stuff Oreos.

"Shit." Kathryn curses over a sink of dishes

"You alright?" You ask

"Fine, There's this water main about a mile or so away. Assholes shut it off every once in a while." She sighs, "Will! Waters off again!"

You watch as Logan tosses his bag into the bed of the truck, glancing over at Will who is already walking off in the direction of the water pipes.

"I'll be back soon, try to get Charles out of that damn bed." He says

"How?" You groan, knowing how strong-willed the old man was

"I don't know. Remind him about young mutants or some shit." Logan sighs, obviously tired, "Just try to get him in his chair at least."

You nod and take a step closer to Logan, hooking your fingers into his belt loops, and pulling him in so his chest brushes yours.

"And make sure Laura doesn't try to steal their kid's candy. I saw her eyeing it up earlier." He says

"Got any more orders for me, Sarge?' You tease

"Sorry. I just...We need to get a move on before they find us again. They're using Caliban to track us." Logan worries, resting his hands on your hips while you place yours on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

"I know." You say sadly, thinking of your pale friend.

"See you soon, sweetheart," Logan says, leaning down to rest his head on your shoulder, his face buried in your neck.

"Logan?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you."

You can feel the smile that stretches across the weary face you want to wake up next to for the rest of your life. He brings his head back up and the porch light makes his eyes twinkle just the slightest bit.

"I love you too."

A gentle kiss, unlike the ones you've shared before, is pressed to your lips and then he's walking off, the darkness swallowing him whole.

Charles is aggravating, he kicks and swears when you go to grab him. You sigh and collapse onto the floor on the other side of the bed. If he wasn't your father figure, you would've smacked him by now. You loved him but he was testing your patience.

You glance over at Laura who is laying on the floor, her eyes shut. She looks peaceful, like a normal little girl. You want her to experience a real like, one like Nate Munson has, winning track meets and doing math at the kitchen table with her dad. You want to experience it with her, fill the shoes of her nameless mother, and have Logan truly be her father.

"I'm sorry," Charles whispers into the darkness

"For not cooperating? Good. Now let's get you in your chair." You say, resting your head on the side of the bed.

"I remember it. Westchester."

Your heart drops to your feet. You and Logan had agreed never to tell Charles about what happened that day. You both knew it'd break his heart to know what happened.

"I've hurt so many. My family. People I've never even met.

Heavy footsteps thud in the hall and a big shadow casts its way into the room, blocking out the hallway light. Logan. That was fast.

"The past two days have been the best days I've had in a very long time." Charles declares

You want to agree with him, to validate his feelings but your voice dies in your throat, so you listen instead, just like Logan is.

"And I know I don't deserve it."

Charles' voice breaks up mid-sentence and the sound of it has tears stinging your water line. Tears for him, for Laura, for yourself, for your friends who he accidentally killed. For Logan who you knew you'd never have enough time with, your failing bodies would one day claim the love story between the two of you.

"I think I finally understand you, Logan."

The soft shifting of sheets hits your ears. Logan must be trying to pick Charles up.

It's the sound of claws unsheathing that has you confused. What was he doing?

Your stomach drops when you see it. A monster bearing Logan's face and body stands before you. A single hand pressed to Charles' chest is what your eyes focus on. Just barely you can see the adamantium glinting in the low light.

"What the fuck?" You breathe

A loud scream snaps you from your trance. Laura.

The little girl who you've become so fond of is on the imposter's back, her own claws unsheathed, stabbing and tearing at him. You rush to Charles' side, placing your hands over the wound in horror. He mumbles something and tries to push your hands away.

"It's alright, we're gonna keep pressure on it, okay." You say, trying not to panic, "Just look at me. Deep breaths okay?"

Charles nods, his hand coming up to wipe at the blood that's trickling from his mouth. His eyes look behind you to Laura and the monster struggling. You should turn to help her, you should, but you can't leave him. Charles. The man who took you in after your parents threw you out when your mutation manifested. Charles, the man who taught you how to focus it, how to control it, how to use it. Charles, the man who was dying in your arms.

"It's alright, eyes on me, it's just you and me."

The man in the silver wheelchair is odd. Sometimes, you can hear him in your mind. But today, he's speaking out loud as he asks you to focus on the blood that courses through his veins. Instead, you focus on his brown hair that is shiny in the sunlight. It's like he's spent some time styling it before coming to see you in this huge home of his.

"Calm your mind and focus. You can control your powers, they are gifts, I'll help you to see them the way I do."

"It's alright...eyes on me...it's just you and me." You gasp and your voice begins to wobble, you can't do this.

The sound of clinking restraints and the crack of a baseball bat have your mind reeling. You take Charles' hands and press them to his chest, whispering that he has to keep pressure on the wound.

You turn around just in time to watch the sixteen-year-old boy you've come to care for drop to the ground dead. Fresh blood pours like a fountain from the six holes in his chest.

Rage courses hot through your veins, bubbling up like a volcano as the click of a shotgun is heard. Kathryn.

You try to block it all out as you will Nate's to come to you, to serve you.

It doesn't.

You scream in frustration as Kathryn's voice shouts at you to run. heavy footsteps are closing in on her. Laura's loud yelling has your world spinning as you stare at the puddle of blood on the ground. What was happening to you? Were you really this useless? Letting your friends be murdered? Letting a little girl be kidnapped by some clone who shouldn't even exist?

The shotgun goes off, it's followed by a slash and another loud scream from Laura. A thud sounds and you know Kathryn is dead. Butchered like a fucking animal.

You wrap your arms around yourself and scream, you scream for your powers, for your friend and her son, for Logan, your Logan to come save you.

"Calm your mind and focus. You can control your powers, they are gifts, I'll help you to see them the way I do."

As if it's magic, the blood bubbles up and begins to move as you will it to. Your mind burns as you bend it to your will. The discarded baseball bat sits on the ground, and you scoop it up. Charles says something but you miss it, that freak of nature won't be taking Laura anywhere tonight.

You pass Kathryn's corpse. Her eyes are empty as she stares up at the ceiling. Her blood follows you down the steps where the clone is.

Laura lets out a loud shout when she sees you behind her. The clone spins on his heel and he cocks his head to the side, like he's confused you're even here.

You can sense it, in his blood. The x-gene, the one that makes a mutant, is there. It's strong, stronger than yours is, stronger than Logan's. A killing machine stands before you.

Laura is discarded like she's some piece of trash as the clone tosses her across the room and onto the kitchen table. Long claws glint in the light as they slowly extend from his hands. You answer it in good faith, the blood you have from your friends is fashioned into long tendrils and sharp and deadly, and the baseball bat sits in your hands as extra insurance.

"Give me the girl. Give her to me and you can leave."

You try to reason with it before you begin a suicide fight.

No response comes but instead, he charges at you, ready to kill.

Your brain feels like it's ready to burst as you let the blood loose, directing it to impale him, to send him flying. He smacks the table and goes flying through the wall into the front yard, taking Laura with him. In some other world you'd be able to use his own against him, pinning him down and blowing him up would be so much easier. But, you're scared. Scared of what it will to do you.

"Kathryn!"

Will Munson has returned to a dead family.

"What happened? Kathryn?!"

He asks when he enters his destroyed home and sees you, blood tendrils floating next to you. He glances up the steps and you know he sees Kathryn lying there, eyes glazed over, unmoving.

"Nate!"

He's dead too. You don't have the heart to tell him.

"What the fuck did you do?" He asks staring at you, "What did you do to them, freak?!"

You want to tell him it wasn't you but you can't. He takes a step back and your instincts kick in. Your hand flies up and the blood of his wife and son hit him in the chest, sending him flying into the kitchen.

And then, he's back. Logan. Your Logan has returned. He races up to you and his hands cup your face but he doesn't say anything. You whisper for him to go get Charles and he listens. Telling you to stay put. Your skin burns as much as your brain does when he leaves you.

Laura is screaming again as you walk after her ignoring Logan's words. The clone is fighting what looks like a bunch of men in cowboy hats. An expensive truck's headlights illuminate the bloody scene.

"There's another!" A voice yells when one man sees you

He loses his head to adamantium claws while trying to run away.

You catch a glimpse of a man in a white lab coat. He's yelling something that your throbbing mind can't process as you set your powers back on this clone. Blood, sharp as glass skewer the imposter as you pin him to the ground, others wrap around his feet, as he is spread starfish on the ground.

Your mind is breaking down, you can feel it. Your senses are dialed up, you can practically taste the blood of the fresh corpses beside you. A loud shout breaks the trance and you whirl around to see Will pointing a shotgun at you.

He fires it.

You turn your head and block the shell with a wall of blood. Your grip weakens on the clone, if this goes on too long, it'll escape.

He fires again.

Logan yells your name, he is carrying Charles out of the house.

"Marvelous, marvelous." The man in the lab coat is speaking to you.

Your mind is going numb, you have to finish this.

"You, my dear are simply extraordinary! Oh the power in your genetics, the future of mutants!"

The van behind him explodes and you lose your control of the blood. You're sent flying to the ground, and blood splatters down, falling like rain as it covers you in its metallic scent. The scent of your singed hair burns your nose. The lab coat man has been knocked out by debris.

Will Munson's shotgun cocks again, yet it never fires.

The clone has unknowingly saved your life as he sends three clean claws into Will's belly before letting him fall to the ground. You feel guilt when you realize you're relieved that Will Munson is gone, unable to gun you down.

Logan is calling your name and when the imposter lifts you up from the ground you see him running as fast as he can to you with his limp that never goes away.

You turn to stare this animal in the eyes. Its heart is beating rapidly, pumping blood to his body so he can kill all these people, so he can kill you. The fear from earlier goes away, you know you can do this. The blood is there, it's just a matter of focusing.

And then, it's rearranging itself, arranging itself at your command.

Claws dig into your belly and a white-hot pain follows as they're removed. It lets out a grunt, the first noise you've heard from it all night as its nose begins to bleed. You're going to rip this thing in half and send it back to hell. Maybe you'll see it there.

You feel it, your brain collapsing in on itself as you let out a yell, a last-ditch effort at getting your powers to truly be your own again.

The ground is cold and hard as you land on it with a thud and a splash of blood explodes across the grass. The monster is sent flying backward into the tractor behind it, impaling it on metal spikes.

Pride surges through your system when you see its head, a chunk of it is missing and it's no longer moving. Faintly you're pretty sure its heart is still beating, what matters to you though is that Laura is safe. Whatever that thing was, it wouldn't be moving for a while.

Your mind is blank as you lay in the grass. Vaguely you can feel the blood you're drenched in, it's ruined your clothes, the casino sweatshirt Logan bought for you to hide behind is fucked, no washer in the world could get it clean again.

And then he's there, above you, scooping you up, holding you to his chest. You can feel his heart beating as he says your name, telling you it's okay, that you're okay.

You want to reply but your mind can't formulate any words, they come out as incoherent gasps as Logan holds you tightly. He holds you and gently rocks back and forth. You feel warm tears trickle from his eyes down your neck as he presses a kiss to your skin.

He shifts again and his forehead presses to yours and his eyes meet yours. His hand gently cradles your face, brushing your hair from your eyes and wiping at the blood that's splattered on your face.

"My pretty girl,"

His voice is nothing but a whisper in the wind as his salty tears stain your face.

"I'm so sorry."

His words, filled with regret seep into your skin like they're secrets just for the two of you to know. Your bleeding brain is a mushy mess as you try to get it to cooperate one more time.

"Logan,"

Your voice is so quiet you swear he didn't hear it. But, he does, he always hears you when you speak.

"I want..."

"I want...to meet you again...to live a life with you"

Perhaps thats the wrong thing to say because he's even more upset now. Bushy brows knitted together in sadness, you're sure you even see his lower lip tremble a bit.

"We will, we'll meet again. You're tangled in my soul now, I'll give you a life, a real one. I promise."

You swallow thickly, trying to get your tongue to say them, your dying words,

I love you.

They die on your tongue and you want to cry out in frustration. Instead, you think them. You think them. You think of the many nights you spent beside Logan at the smelting plant watching a movie on the old box TV he found for you, you think of how his lips felt against yours just this morning, legs tangled in the sheets brushing his. You think of how he looked when you first met him, fresh-faced, smoking that stupid cigar of his.

Logan's thumb brushes the tears that leave your eyes and you sigh. His skin was warm in contrast to yours and it felt like stars were dancing across your skin as your eyes raced to memorize every inch of his face. You wanted to keep him as your own forever.

You'd see him again one day, in another life perhaps.

After all, he promised.

But wait! There's more... Logan and Reader's story continues in The Other Life

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[greenwitchcrafts]

September 2024 Witch Guide

New Moon: September 2nd

First Quarter: September 11th

Full moon: September 17th

Last Quarter: September 24th

Sabbats: Mabon- September 22nd

September Harvest Moon

Also known as: Autumn Moon, Child Moon, Corn Harvest Moon, Falling Leaves Moon, Haligmonath, Leaves Turning Moon, Mating Moon, Moon of Brown Leaves, Moon When Dear Paw the Earth, Rutting Moon, Singing Moon, Wine Moon, Witumanoth & Yellow Leaf Moon

Element: Earth

Zodiac: Virgo & Libra

Nature spirts: Trooping Faeries

Deities: Brigid, Ceres, Chang-e, Demeter, Freya, Isis, Depths & Vesta

Animals: Jackal & snake

Birds: Ibis & sparrow

Trees: Bay, hawthorn, hazel & larch

Herbs: Copal, fennel, rye, skullcap, valerian, wheat & witch hazel

Flowers: Lily & narcissus

Scents: Bergamot, gardenia, mastic & storax

Stones: Bloodstone,carnelian, cat's eye, chrysolite, citrine, iolite, lapis lazuli, olivine, peridot, sapphire, spinel(blue), tourmaline(blue) & zircon

Colors: Browns, dark blue, Earth tones, green & yellow

Issues, intentions & powers: Confidence, the home, manifestation & protection

Energy: Balance of light & dark, cleaning & straightening of all kinds, dietary matters, employment, health, intellectual pursuits, prosperity, psychism, rest, spirituality, success & work environment

The full Moon that happens nearest to the fall equinox (September 22nd or 23rd) always takes on the name “Harvest Moon.” Unlike other full Moons, this full Moon rises at nearly the same time—around sunset—for several evenings in a row, giving farmers several extra evenings of moonlight & allowing them to finish their harvests before the frosts of fall arrive. 

• While September’s full Moon is usually known as the Harvest Moon, if October’s full Moon happens to occur closer to the equinox than September’s, it takes on the name “Harvest Moon” instead. In this case, September’s full Moon would be referred to as the Corn Moon.

This time of year—late summer into early fall—corresponds with the time of harvesting corn in much of the northern United States. For this reason, a number of Native American peoples traditionally used some variation of the name “Corn Moon” to refer to the Moon of either August or September. 

Mabon

Known as: Autumn Equinox, Cornucopia, Witch's Thanksgiving & Alban Elved

Season: Autumn

Element: Air

Symbols: Acorns, apples, autumn leaves, balance, berries, corn, cornucopia( Horn of Plenty), dried seeds, equality, gourds, grains, grapes, ivy, pine cones, pomegranates, vines, wheat, white roses & wine

Colors: Blue, brown, dark red, deep gold, gold, indigo, leaf green, maroon, orange, red, russet. Violet & yellow

Oils/Incense: Apple, apple blossom, benzoin, black pepper, hay/straw, myrrh, passion flower, patchouli, pine, red poppy & sage

Animals: Dog & Wolf

Birds: Goose, hawk, swallow & swan

Stones: Agate, amethyst, carnelian, lapis lazuli, sapphire, yellow Agate & yellow topaz

Food: Apples, blackberries, blackberry wine, breads, carrots, cider, corn, cornbread, grapes, heather wine, nuts, onions, pomegranates, potatoes, squash, vegetables, wheat & wine

Herbs/Plants: Benzoin, bramble, corn, ferns, grains, hops, ivy, milkweed, myrrh, sage sassafras, Salomon's seal, thistle, tobacco & wheat

Flowers:  Aster, heather, honeysuckle, marigold, mums, passion flower, rose

Trees: Aspen, cedar, cypress, hazel, locust, maple, myrtle oak & pine

Goddesses: Danu, Epona, Inanna, Ishtar, Modron, Morgan, The Morrigan, Muses, Pomona, Persephone, Sin, Sophia & Sura

Gods:  Bacchus, Dionysus, Dumuzi, Esus, The Green Man, Hermes, Mannanan, Thor & Thoth

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Accomplishment, agriculture, balance, goals, gratitude & grounding

Spellwork: Balance, harmony, protection, prosperity, security & self-confidence

Activities:

•Scatter offerings in a harvested fields & Offer libations to trees

• Decorate your home and/or altar space for fall

• Bake bread

• Perform a ritual to restore balance and harmony to your life

• Cleanse your home of negative energies

• Pick apples

• Collect fall themed things from nature like acorns, changing leaves, pine cones, ect)

• Have a dinner or feast with your family and/or friends

• Set intentions for the upcoming year

• Purge what is no longer serving you & commit to healthy changes

•Take a walk in the woods

• Enjoy a pumpkin spice latte

• Donate to your local food bank

• Gather dried herbs, plants, seeds & pods

• Learn something new

• Make wine

• Fill a cornucopia

• Brew an apple cinnamon simmer pot

• Create an outdoor Mabon altar

•Adorn burial sites with leaves, acorns, & pinecones to honor those who have passed over & visit their graves

The name Mabon comes from the Welsh/Brythonic God Mabon Ap Modron, who's name means "Divine/great Son", However,there is evidence that the name was adopted in the 1970s for the Autumn Equinox & has nothing to do with this celebration or this time of year.

• Though many cultures see the second harvest (after the first harvest Lughnasadh) & Equinox as a time for giving thanks before the name Mabon was given because this time of year is traditionally when farmers know how well their summer crops did & how well fed their animals have become. This determines whether you & your family would have enough food for the winter.That is why people used to give thanks around this time, thanks for their crops, animals & food

Some believe it celebrates the autumn equinox when Nature is preparing for the winter months. Night & day are of equal legth  & the God's energy & strength are nearly gone. The Goddess begins to mourn the loss she knows is coming, but knows he will return when he is reborn at Yule.

Related festivals:

• Sukkot- Is a Torah-commanded holiday celebrated for seven days, beginning on the 15th day of the month of Tishrei. It is one of the Three Pilgrimage Festivals on which Israelites were commanded to make a pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem. Originally a harvest festival celebrating the autumn harvest, Sukkot’s modern observance is characterized by festive meals in a sukkah, a temporary wood-covered hut, celebrating the Exodus from Egypt.

• Mid-Autumn festival- September 17th

Is also known as the Moon Festival or Mooncake Festival. It is a traditional festival celebrated in Chinese culture, similar holidays are celebrated by other cultures in East & Southeast Asia. It is one of the most important holidays in Chinese culture; its popularity is on par with that of Chinese New Year. The history of the Mid-Autumn Festival dates back over 3,000 years.  On this day, it is believed that the Moon is at its brightest and fullest size, coinciding with harvest time in the middle of Autumn.

During the festival, lanterns of all size and shapes – which symbolize beacons that light people's path to prosperity & good fortune – are carried & displayed. Mooncakes, a rich pastry typically filled with sweet-bean, egg yolk, meat or lotus-seed paste, are traditionally eaten during this festival. The Mid-Autumn Festival is based on the legend of Chang'e, the Moon goddess in Chinese mythology.

• Thanksgiving- This is a secular holiday which is similar to the cell of Mabon; A day to give thanks for the food & blessings of the previous year. The American Thanksgiving is the last Thursday of November while the Canadian Thanksgiving is celebrated in October

• The Oschophoria- Were a set of ancient Greek festival rites held in Athens during the month Pyanepsion (autumn) in honor of Dionysus. The festival may have had both agricultural and initiatory functions.

-Amidst much singing of special songs, two young men dressed in women's clothes would bear branches with grape-clusters attached from Dionysus to the sanctuary of Athena Skiras & a footrace followed in which select ephebes competed.

Ancient sources connect the festival and its rituals to the Athenian hero-king Theseus & specifically to his return from his Cretan adventure. According to that myth, the Cretan princess Ariadne, whom Theseus had abandoned on the island of Naxos while voyaging home, was rescued by an admiring Dionysus; thus the Oschophoria may have honored Ariadne as well. A section of the ancient calendar frieze incorporated into the Byzantine Panagia Gorgoepikoos church in Athens, corresponding to the month Pyanopsion (alternate spelling), has been identified as an illustration of this festival's procession.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[teawithhazel]

How a Birdbath Changed my Witchcraft

This is a personal story that I wanted to share in hopes that it could help other new witches. It's a long one, so buckle up.

One of my goals this year was to forge a deeper connection to the land spirits around my home. I am still very new to the craft and this seemed like a nice way to dip my toes into spirit work while also creating an outdoor sacred space. Little did I know the impact it would have.

I did some research on offerings to land spirits and took into mind that critters may try to eat said offerings, and settled on just leaving water or inedible things. I also had to consider my less than open minded neighbors, they are decent people but I don't feel comfortable with them knowing I'm a witch.

A birdbath seemed like the perfect way to leave offerings as well as disguise the altar from my neighbors.

I set it up in early spring, after the frost was done. It was just a simple ceramic one with blue glaze (I wanted green, but they were sold out), I filled it with water and a small stone so insects could crawl out if they fell in, said a few words of thanks and did that everyday.

At first, it seemed like just a mundane task. I wasn't really feeling much from what I was doing until spring rolled into summer. I got the feeling like I had to keep that bird bath filled. I felt a pull in my gut that I still can't explain.

Then I figured out why.

Drought.

The worst my area has had in years with unbearable heat and humidity. We didn't get rain for months and when we did it was a tiny drizzle that barely dampened the ground. Most of the plants in my area dried up and went dormant.

My little birdbath was an oasis and was getting more than birds as visitors. Deer, squirrels, raccoon, skunk and opossum were using it to find vital water. I ended up getting a 5 gallon bucket to fill as well because the birdbath would get drained so quickly.

The deer got use to me and would wait at the edge of the woods for me to bring water in the mornings.

I could feel the gratitude every time an animal came for a drink. They had nothing but dry grass for miles and in their own ways they showed how thankful they were.

Yup, one of the deer stashed her kid right in my garden for a week. I usually don't read too much into animals as 'signs' from the spirits, but that is a little hard to ignore.

That was over 4 months ago. My garden thrived despite the drought. I had an abundance of cucumber, tomato, herbs, carrots, onions, and sweet potatoes this year.

Was my success because of my offerings to the land spirits? Some would say yes, some would say no. All I know is that I had the best producing garden in the neighborhood this year and a much deeper understanding of the importance of water.

[velarisnightsky444]

Accepting the Bond*

Azriel x Rhysand's Sister!OC

AN: This is a snippet from my Stargirl fanfiction. OC is Rhysand's sister, and she's accepting the mating bond with Azriel.

CW: Fingering, oral, intercourse, brief allusion to past SA(not super obvious if you haven't read the fic)

Word Count: 2.3k

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

    Rhys got everybody out of the house early the next day, and I got to work on dinner. Steak, mashed potatoes, asparagus, and roasted carrots, plus a nice dessert of chocolate torte. It was the first real meal he had ever had. The first meal my mother had made for him when he came to live with us.

     Through the years, he would ask for it on every birthday. My mother and I would make it together.

       When I had finished cooking and baking the dessert, I set it all out on the table. I lit a few candles, and put a vase of flowers in the center.

     I took a deep breath, studying my work, then sent the okay to my brother's mind. Nerves settled in my stomach.

     I was wearing a cobalt blue dress, one that sparkled in the light. The bodice was tight to my skin, and the sleeves were sheer and loose. The skirt was loose, but didn't poof out too far. There was a slit in the skirt up my thigh. Underneath, I was wearing a blue set of lingerie that Mor had gone shopping for with me.

     After a few moments, the door opened. He must have winnowed to get here so fast. I took a grounding breath, trying to calm my heart rate.

      When he entered the room, I could feel the string in my chest go taut. He looked more handsome than I'd ever seen him. His curls were tamed, but still perfect. And his eyes . . . I'd always loved those hazel eyes. He wore a lovely suit, which made me think Rhys had instructed him to dress nicely. That likely gave me away. His shadows clung to him, but a few swirled over to me. 

"Hi, Azzy," I greeted quietly, a soft smile on my face.

"You . . . you look . . . " he was at a loss of words as he took me in, his eyes looking me up and down, then studying my face. "Breathtaking." The word was barely a whisper. A blush tinted my cheeks.

"Thank you," I uttered. "You look quite handsome, yourself." He glanced down at the table, looking at the food.

"Does this mean--"

"I accept the bond," I cut him off. "Yes."

      An expression of disbelief twisted his features for only a second, before tears began welling in his hazel eyes.

      He rushed towards me, and I could only laugh as he scooped me up and spun me around. I clutched onto him, squeezing him tight. When he set me back on the ground, I planted a kiss on his lips. He held my face in his hands, kissing me back. 

     When he pulled away, he got to his knees in front of me, hands gripping the backs of my thighs. I reached out, running my hand through his curls, and wiping his tears with the other.

"Evie, I swear I will never lie to you again. And I will never, ever, keep anything from you," he promised me. "And I swear to protect and love you for the rest of our lives. I will never let anyone lay a violent hand on you ever again."

     The thought of being protected and loved by him, forever, made my heart leap in my chest. To be with someone that I trusted--that I loved. It seemed too good to be true.

      Tears began to sprout in my own eyes as I stared down at my beautiful mate. He got to his feet, and held me close, kissing the tears away from my eyes. His shadows twisted around me, doting on me in excitement.

"Shall we eat?" I asked him. He nodded, smiling as he sat down at the table.

      I took his plate and shoveled some food onto it, then filled a glass of wine for him. I set it in front of him and sat across from him, serving myself next.

      The two of us ate in a comfortable silence, one of his hands reaching across the table to rest on top of mine. We seemed to be eating fast so that we could get upstairs sooner than later.

      But we ate dessert, nonetheless. The chocolate torte I made was absolutely delicious, if I did say so myself. It reminded me of my mother's. Though, I had followed her recipe.

      When we were done, I got to my feet and sat myself onto his lap, kissing him again. His tongue slipped into my mouth, massaging my own. One of his hands traveled down to grope my breast, and I moaned into his mouth.

      I whined as he pulled away, brushing my hair out of my face. I had wanted him for a very long time, but right now, it felt as though I needed him. If I didn't have him right now, I would die.

"Let's go upstairs," he suggested.

     I nodded eagerly, squealing as he got to his feet with me still in his arms, carrying me bridal style. I wrapped my wings tight around myself as he carried me up the stairs.

      He dropped me onto his silk, deep blue sheets, and climbed on top of me, his lips finding my neck. I moaned, my hands intertwining with his curls as he sucked, bit, and kissed up the tender skin. His shadows settled around me, stroking different parts of my body.

"I love you so much," I whimpered as he absolutely ravaged me. He pulled back, hovering above me, his eyes meeting mine.

"I love you, too," he whispered. "My beautiful mate." His lips met mine again.

      I began clawing at his shirt, trying to undo the buttons around his wings, but struggling. Eventually, I huffed in frustration against his lips, and used my magic to make his shirt disappear. His hand began trailing up the inside of my thigh, and I gasped, my back arching.

       I sat up so he could unzip the back of my dress. I lifted my hips so that he could pull it off of me, leaving me in the lingerie set that I had bought. His pupils were blown from arousal as he took me in.

"You look so gorgeous in my color," he grunted, eyes trailing up and down my body.

"Is this your color?" I teased with a smirk. "I just bought it because I thought it was pretty."

     He snarled, clearly not in the mood for my taunts, and yanked the bra of the set off to reveal my breasts. His finger circled my nipple, making my back arch off of the bed as I whined.

"No whining," he reminded me. He'd always hated my whining, even when we were kids.

     He leaned down, his lips closing around the nipple. I gasped as he licked and sucked at it, his hand groping and kneading my other breast. A few shadows whirled around the delicate skin.

"Az," I sighed in pleasure, squeezing my eyes shut. He glanced up at me, a smirk on his lips. His hand trailed down my side, resting on my hip. I bucked my hips desperately, letting him know exactly where I wanted him.

"Use your words, my love," he instructed.

"Please touch me, Az," I begged, my words a hushed whisper.

"Good girl," he praised, the words sparking more arousal through me. He smirked as he sensed it. "You like being praised?" I nodded, whimpering as he began circling my nipple again. "I'll remember that."

      His scarred finger began trailing up and down my core, over the lingerie. I gasped, throwing my head back at the sensation. I couldn't remember the last time I had been touched like that--so delicately.

       He carefully pulled the lingerie down, lifting my hips to get it off of me. When I was left bare beneath him, he took a few seconds to take me in.

"So perfect," he uttered, causing a blush to stain my cheek.

       He swiped a finger over my clit, making an indelicate moan fall from my lips. I would've been embarrassed had he not been causing me so much pleasure. He pressed down with the perfect amount of pressure, circling it with his thumb.

"So good, Az," I mewled, bucking my hips. He held them down with his other hand. "Want them inside, please."

"Whatever you want, baby," he agreed.

     His fingers swirled around my entrance. He sunk two fingers inside me and I gasped, grinding my hips. They felt so different than any other fingers I'd had inside of me. The texture from his scars made the sensation so much more pleasurable.

"Gods, Az," I moaned, clutching onto him. "Your scars feel so fucking good."

      He blushed, and I almost felt shame for letting the words slip out, but a shy smile settled on his face.

      He leaned down, licking a stripe up my core as his fingers continued drilling into me. I cried out, my hands gripping his hair and pushing his face closer. His lips locked around my clit, sucking with the perfect amount of pressure.

"Oh, Az, keep doing that," I begged, grinding against his face and hands.

        I was getting close, and he could sense it. He began sucking just a bit harder, his fingers moving faster.

       I let out a cry as I got right to the edge, then fell over as his fingers angled themselves perfectly. My moans were loud, and undignified as I climaxed on his fingers and mouth.

      He kept sucking my clit and fucking me with his fingers until I was shuddering from overstimulation.

      Then, he pulled away and crawled up to kiss me again. I could taste my release on his lips and tongue. I began to grope the bulge in his pants, desperate for him to be inside of me. He started to unbuckle his belt, and when he was done, I had no patience left. It felt as though he was taking them off slowly on purpose.

     I waved a hand, and his pants were gone, just as I had done with his shirt. I nearly moaned at the sight in front of me. His body was beyond perfect. And his cock . . . I wasn't even sure if it would fit inside me.

"Az . . . " I said nervously.

"If it's too much, we'll take it slow," he promised me, stroking my cheek.

       I pursed my lips and flipped us over so that I was on top. It seemed as though he was about to protest, so I put a finger to his lips.

"Trust me," I begged him. He sighed, but nodded and laid back.

       I smiled and lowered my mouth to him. I wasn't sure I'd be able to stand having him in my mouth. Not after what had been done to me.

       Instead, I licked up the underside of his shaft, my tongue trailing over the veins. He moaned and bit his lip. I felt a wave of excitement at how sensitive he was. I swirled my tongue over his tip, smearing the precum that had began to collect on it.

       When I felt comfortable, I lifted my head and took a deep breath. I straddled his waist and carefully lowered myself onto his cock. I gasped, slowly filling myself more.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his hands resting lightly on my hips.

       I nodded, biting my lip. I let out a moan as I finally sat down completely. He let out a hard breath, squeezing his eyes shut. Having him in me hurt, but it was a pleasurable pain. One that I knew I would crave everyday for the rest of my life.

"I'm fine," I uttered as I began grinding on him.

       He groaned, his grip on my hips tightening. Elio had never let me on top--he'd always stated that the male should be in control. So I wasn't quite sure what I was doing.

       But Az's hands on my hips helped guide me, helped encourage me. I rested my hands on his chest, running them over his muscles.

       His shadows settled on my breasts, playing with my nipples as I sighed in pleasure. One began swirling around my neck, focusing just below my ear.

       I braced my hands on his chest as I began riding him harder, causing a sweet whimper to fall from his lips. I smirked down at him. 

       His eyes were locked on mine, his thumbs stroking my hips. I whimpered as I got close to the edge again, and he could sense it from the way I clenched around him.

"Do you want me to pull out?" he asked me.

"No, please don't," I begged, throwing my head back as I nearly came undone.

"We'll cum together," he decided. I nodded.

      One of his hands left my hips, and his finger began circling my clit again. That was the last thing I needed to fall over that edge, just as he spilled inside of me.

       Our moans filled the room as we both climaxed, his eyes shut tight, his brow furrowed. I grinded against him a few times to draw out our orgasms, until we had wrung all the pleasure from each other.

      I collapsed on top of him from utter exhaustion, and he wrapped his arms around me, under my wings, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"Do you want to bathe?" he asked.

"Too tired," I mumbled.

"Okay," he whispered, rolling me off of him.

       I protested as he got out of the bed and made his way to our bathroom. But he came back with a washcloth. He washed our combined releases from my thighs with the warm, wet towel.

       When he was done cleaning me up, he put the towel away and climbed back into bed with me.

"Are you okay?" he asked me. I nodded, humming contently. "Good." He pressed kisses to my face, then one to my lips.

       He pulled me into his warm arms, the two of us still naked. I decided this would be a lovely way to fall asleep, every night for the rest of my life.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Azriel Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @panther-girl-124 @tangled-sun @hawke1917

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @andreperez11 @isnotwhatyourethinking

Comment to be added to the Azriel and General Taglists!

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

[thewriterg]

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡

pairing(s):spencer reid x gn!reader, mention of spencer x derek

summary:your meanings of a sweet tooth increased to a ten fold when the leaves start to change and the air becomes crisp. however, you have a level of self respect that your boyfriend doesn’t

word count: 650+

warning(s): fluff, pumpkin spice slander, pet names, kissing, and language

A/N: —GIFs; @undertheniall & @chemicalh3arts— im a little rusty give me a break

Spencer eyed you warily at your foreign action. Right before he could press the skin of his lips onto yours, your head turned with a quickness. A passion. The brunette racked his mind of what he could’ve done going down the mental checklist in his head.

Took the trash out, watered the plants, closed the drawer in the kitchen you frequently bump your hip into early mornings going to brew your coffee when he leaves it open, —boxes of tea sitting against each other in tip top shape and organization—

There were established boundaries in your relationship that the two of you silently promised to never cross. However, the doctor couldn’t help but to itch to break your most solid concrete one.

You weren’t allowed to profile one another.

No matter how dire the situation seemed, or how well intended it seemed. No. Profiling

All of this amused you to no end. While you struggled to keep a decent poker face at your boyfriend’s kicked puppy expression, he battled internal conflict on what could’ve changed in two hours. You were fine getting ready this morning, you were fine at the office, you were fine leaving the office, hell you were fine even with him telling you him and Morgan was going to try a coffee shop down the road.

What changed in a mere hour!?

“You’re a liar!” You accuse strongly, it’s funny how your top doctor lover couldn’t pick out the dramatic undertone in your voice. It was only a matter of time before you were going to crack your ‘hurt’ facade.

“What!? Ab-”

“Out of all the seasonal treats… Apple pie, sweet potato pie, cookie butter, pecan everything, apple cider donuts, fritters, cinnamon swirl bread, the list could run forever!” You throw the back of your hand over your forehead in mock distress. It’s comical the way Spencer deflates at the realization.

“You dare try to lay your lips on mine with that horrid, wretched, foul tas-” Before you can finish your sentence the lanky brunette is already plopping down onto the couch surface with a irritable sound of protest muffled by the fabric of your sweater.You smile down at the head full of curls staring back you, running your fingers through them making more by separating the bunches they make.

“Can’t believe I fell for that” He mumbled almost sadly for himself going crazy that he was so weak to your advances… I mean you worked with these types of people everyday! To think you were actually upset with him for a… rational reason. Instead you were ‘hurt’ simply because of his choice of pumpkin spice black coffee Morgan had convinced him to try.

“I can’t believe out of everything you chose pumpkin.” You teased in a matter of factly way while still massaging the back of his scalp. You could feel the curl of the brunette’s lips past the thin sweater you were wearing. When Spencer finally moved his head from being burrowed in your stomach the big guns were out and blazing. A certain pout with his combination of sad eyes made you fold everytime and the brunette knew it too.

“Spencer.” It was your turn to whine now dragging out the final ‘R’ in his name and he hummed satisfied. Pursing his lips and inching towards you. However, he was still to be met with a completely different texture than the softness of your lips by rather the palm of your hand.

“You seriously have to brush your teeth”

“Well studies recorded that if you face your discomforts head on then you’re 20% more likely to be less uncomfortable about it.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he inches closer, making you squeal. You quickly turn yourself loose from his hold before it can tighten around your arms and you two spend the evening playing catch the cat with smiles on your faces.

©2024 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"We can't thank you enough," your mother clasps her hands together, "are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?"

"I gotta get back," Walter huffs, hooking his thumbs in his jeans pockets, "but I'll be back in the morning."

"You will?" You mom bats her lashes in surprise as you glance over from peeling potatoes.

"Yep," he nods as he looks around, meeting your gaze briefly before turning his attention back to your mother, "gonna help the kid with planting."

"What? You can't-- Walter, we... we could never pay you back," she fans herself.

"I'm not asking for anything," he shrugs, "I kinda owe Pat. He's always been good to me."

"Oh my gosh, and he will appreciate it so much," she touches her cheeks as her voice cracks, "we really can't afford to turn away help but you will be stayin' for dinner. It's the least we can do."

"Yes, ma'am," he answers, "but you don't work yourself too hard. You gotta make sure to get Pat back on his feet before you worry about me."

"Oh," she sniffles and dabs her nose with her knuckle, "I'm so sorry, it's been such a difficult week."

"Ma," you come around and offer her a paper towel from the role, your own eyes stinging.

"Anyways, I...I'll go now," Walter says stringently.

"Thank you," you eke out as you hug your mother and she buries her face in your shoulder.

He nods at you as he passes, continuing into the hallway. You rock your mother and crane to watch him go, his broad shoulders stretching the cotton henley. He peeks into the front room as he stops to get his boots on, staring in at your dad, still blank in his recliner.

You tear your eyes away as your mom pulls back and wipes her cheeks, "uh, I'm a mess."

"It's alright, ma," you assure.

"I hope so," she murmurs as her throat tightens, "I really do."

🌾

As promised, Walter returns early the next morning. You're in the kitchen putting on a pot of coffee as you hear his truck. You leave the percolator to boil as you sweep down the hall, yawning into the crook of your elbow as you near the front door.

You open in and stand inside the screen, watching his headlights fade as he shuts off the engine. He steps out, grabbing a beaten metal lunch pail out behind him. It hangs from a thick leather strap; you wonder if he takes it down to the mill for his shifts.

"Morning," he comes up the steps, "Timothy up?"

"He's getting there," you say evasively, "you want some coffee?"

"Brought my own," he shows the thermos strapped to the top of the lunch pail.

"Hm, well, why don't you come in while you wait? Tim will be up soon, I'm sure."

"I don't mind," he says.

"I hate to leave you out here," you insist, "ma's upstairs with dad," you explain, "pretty quiet in here. Not used to that."

"Mm," he grumbles and bows his head. He grabs the screen door as he steps forward, catching it as you retreat ahead of him.

He enters and you scurry back to the kitchen as you hear the percolator thrumming, the lid shaking noisily. You take out a cup for yourself and one for Timothy. Walter enters and you turn to him as he looks around placidly.

"You're right. It's quiet," he agrees.

You give a shaky smile and go to the fridge. You take out the packet of bacon wrapped in brown paper and put it on the counter.

"I'm making breakfast. Ma and dad will be hungry. You like bacon or sausage?" You ask.

He considers you. You face him, awaiting his answer. He watches you, his expression hard to read.

"You don't have to worry about me," he states.

"I'm not worried, I'm just... offering," you placate.

His blue eyes make you nervous as they bore into you. Like everything else he does, he watches you with intent. What it is, you don't know.

He hums and nods, as if agreeing with something you said. You arch a brow curiously as he tilts his head and drops his eyes to the counter. He steps up to the island and puts his pail down.

"I'll do the eggs," he says.

"Oh, please, sir--"

"Walt," he intones.

"Walt, sorry," you squirm. There's something different about him. He's just as steely as ever but much more... there. You always felt like he didn't see you before.

"No sorries," he waves you off and goes to the fridge, opening the door and searching until he sees the eggs. "You seem like the sunny side up type."

"I do?" You wonder as he plucks out eggs one at a time.

"I think so," he says softly, a grit in his throat.

"Hm," you scrunch your lips up, "I don't mind it. I usually have french toast. That's how I liked my eggs."

"Not really eggs..."

"There's eggs on the bread," you argue, "and cinnamon, and a little icing sugar."

He scoffs and his cheek dimples. It's as close to a smile as you've ever seen from him. He places the eggs on the counter before he goes back for more.

"What about you? How do you like your eggs?" You ask before the tension can grow stifling.

"I take two hard-boiled eggs to work. A slice of rye, carrots, cashews, and dried berries. For lunch, I have ham and cheese. Most days, I miss lunch. Too busy."

He speaks matter-of-factly. He does seem like a man of routine. You never thought very much about what he did beyond his visits, but it makes sense.

"I usually forget lunch too," you grin, "but I make up for it at dinner."

He snorts again, setting down another handful of eggs. "I'll do some scrambled," he rolls one aside on its own, "and some french toast for you."

"Oh, M-Walt," you stammer, "that's--"

"I like to keep busy. Keeps me focused," he says sternly.

"Oh, uh, okay," you relent, "I'll... go get Timothy," you look at the clock, "he said he'd be up ten minutes ago."

"His own fault if he doesn't have time to eat," Walter tuts. "Grown man."

"Sure is," you agree as you breeze around the counter, "be right back."

You get to the door before he responds, "I'll be here, sweetheart."

You're in the hall before you register what he said. You falter and stop at the bottom step before you can ascend the stairs. You look back to the kitchen, staring at Walter's shoulders as he cracks eggs into a bowl.

Sweetheart... you don't think you've ever heard a morsel of affection from the man. He didn't even laugh at your father's jokes. Well, there is a lot going on. He's just being nice because your dad's sick.

[astrolovecosmos]

The Planets & Random or Obscure Associations

~Sun~

Creativity, vitality, head of state, the father, games, yellow and orange clothing, articles of value, jewelry, gold, brass, power, diamonds, citrine, topaz, jasper, amber, rhodochrosite, mistletoe, almonds, citrus, succulents, sunflowers, fevers, heart, back, spine, grapes, walnuts, rice, chamomile, frankincense, juniper, saffron, marigold, rosemary, rue, palaces, towers, luxury.

~Moon~

Eternal, cycles, silver, aluminum, pearls, moonstone, opal, selenite, chest, glands, lymphatic system, nervous system, emotions, mother, ancestors, nurture, rebirth, tides, baths, ocean, brew, boat, sap, willow trees, succulents, pale color plants, white flowers, cucumber, cabbage, lettuce, melons, shellfish, pumpkins, lakes, fountains, ports, fishponds, pools, springs, sewers, dairies, toys, reflection, blankets, objects of comfort.

~Mercury~

Communication, journal, pen/pencil, any writing tools, wings, phosphorous, mercury, agate, tiger's eye, brain, nervous system, eyes, respiration, thyroid, speech, hearing, intellect, vehicles, money, bills, paper, books, pictures, parties or social gatherings, scientific instruments, butterflies, messages, mail, hazel, mulberry, myrtle, seeds, aniseed, dill, fennel, lavender, liquorice, marjoram, parsley, valerian, hazelnuts, beans, mushrooms, pomegranates, carrots, celery, libraries, schools, markets, fairs, public spaces, tennis or badminton court, studies, banks, bowling greens, offices, blue, white, or light colored flowers.

~Venus~

Love, relating, lust, high-quality fabrics, copper, bronze, sodium, malachite, tourmaline, emerald, rose quartz, kunzite, sapphire, pastels, throat, kidneys, lumber region, art, music, aesthetics, social life, fashion, jewelry, wine, pleasure, alder tree, fruit trees, paint, ash tree, birch, pomegranates, early flowering, daisy, mint, marshmallow, meadowsweet, mugwort, plantain, tansy, roses, thyme, vervain, yarrow, potatoes, strawberries, wheat, sugar, nectarines, ballrooms, bedrooms, dining room, gardens, fountains, wardrobes, theaters, looking and feeling good.

~Mars~

Lust, conquest, desire, flaming sword, red things, fights, iron, brass, bloodstone, carnelian, cinnabar, pyrite, magnetite, ruby, garnet, hematite, muscles, reproductive organs, blood, kidneys, immunity, heat, action, arms, pepper, sharp instruments, cutlery, attacks, scissors, weapons, physical intimacy, bites, stings, scalds, burns, accidents, hawthorn, pine, thorns, cactus, aloes, anemone, arnica, belladonna, garlic, ginger, hops, mustard seed, nettles, wormwood, chives, onions, leeks, radish, rhubarb, tobacco, labs, furnaces, distilleries, bakehouses, ovens, smiths, butchers, fields, anger, passion, self-focus.

~Jupiter~

Expansion, optimism, religion, religious sites, tin, seduction, turquoise, chrysocolla, topaz, citrine, jasper, liver, pancreas, pituitary gland, sciatic nerve, excess, abundance, prophecy, philosophy, knowledge, universities, foreign travel, luggage, honey, oil, silk, fruit, distinct clothing, merchandise, horses, domestic birds, gambling, indulgence, entertainment, oak, dandelion, sage, endive, chervil, asparagus, figs, churches, temples, palaces, altars, courts, mansions, woods, orchards, winery, cornucopia, connecting with the soul.

~Saturn~

Limits, boundaries, father time, lord of death, shadows, lead, iron, steel, calcium, asbestos, sulphur, diamond, onyx, calcite, skeleton, spleen, skin, teeth, nails, joints, structure, crystallization, old age, blockage, anything dark, wool, heavy materials, agriculture, wheelbarrows, spades, farm houses and buildings, cold, laws, aspen, blackthorn, buckthorn, cypress, elm, toxic plants, hemlock, henbane, belladonna, hellebore, barley, beetroot, safflower, parsnips, spinach, deserts, woods, valleys, caves, church yards, ruins, coalpits, sinks, wells, mud, institutions.

~Uranus~

Eccentrics, mavericks, invention, genius, revolution, change, trends, disruptive science or tech, uranium, magnesium, lapis lazuli, sapphire, aquamarine, azurite, chalcedony, electricity, neon lights, plaid, nervous and circulatory system, pineal gland, chaos, violence, upheaval, astrology, steam engines, coal, machinery, coins, baths, fishponds, dangerous places, computers, magnets, quantum physics, research, welfare, humanity, hypnotherapy, railways, banks, gas, psychiatric hospitals, offices, hospitals, dispensaries, fortified places, chemicals, mingled/mingling, spirit and matter.

~Neptune~

Illusions, veils, diffuse, deception, water, oceans, mysticism, enlightenment, artistic pursuit and understanding, zinc, potassium, amethyst, fluorite, jade, sugilite, coral, aquamarine, pineal gland, lymphatic and nervous system, spine, mental processes, addiction, psychoses, disease, photography, music, substances, gas, religion, poetry, mimicry, chameleon, anesthetic, telepathy, empathy, dancing, psychic gifts, places near water, hospitals, places of healing, jeweler, painters, brewers, musicians, visionary.

~Pluto~

Power, influence, darkness, new life, what's hidden underneath, seeds, volcanoes, deep earth or ocean, bury, explosions, eruptions, abduction, plutonium, smoky quartz, obsidian, jet, pearl, deep reds, reproductive organs, the unconscious, nuclear, transformation, death, birth, rebirth, underworld, riches, earthquakes, big business, murder, detection, detective, invisibility, sneak, enforced change, hidden places, underground, drains, sewers, radioactive places, the occult, black magic, sacrifice, renew.

[in-som-niyah]

soft/domestic!Jason with an overstimulated!reader where he just squashes her in a hug until she calms down???????/

GIVE US THISSSS PLSSS

i keep my promises <3

"These arms are always yours, love"

soft!Jason Todd x overstimulated!fem!Reader

WARNINGS: graphic description of skin picking?? (not self-harm)

Today was going to be a shitty day.

The moment your eyes cracked open to an absence of sun peeking through the window, you knew outside was going to be gloomy.

You turned your head to face your nightstand, but in doing so, increase your awareness on how the sheets feel on your body. Were they always this rough? Surely the fabric softener did its job, right?

Groaning, you made your way out of bed, your feet planting themselves on the small rug on your side of the bed. It was a soft contrast from your now-cold, rough sheets.

As you took a step toward your dresser, you felt a crunch beneath your left foot. Though it was dark, you could make out the leftover potato chip crumbs from the bag Jason was eating before he went on patrol for the night.

You asked him not to eat it there to prevent this exact scenario, but here you fucking are.

Now, you were annoyed at not only the fact that the sun in Gotham is apparently having the same shitty day as you, but now you also have to clean up something that shouldn't be there in the first place.

Thankfully, it was a Sunday, meaning you had Jason all day to make more fucking messes. Yay.

Your spitefulness wasn't warranted, but in the moment, you didn't care.

As you carried on picking the remains of the food off of your foot, Jason stirs on the bed, scanning the other half of the bed with his arms. Seeing that he can't find what he's looking for, he relents and opens his eyes.

Jason knows something is up.

But, he won't push. Not yet.

"why're you s'far away?" he slurs, half awake and starting to shiver since he flung the covers off looking for you.

You wanted to answer him, you wanted to jump back in his arms and hold onto the scent of his skin forever, but you were too annoyed and anxious to say anything.

"No reason." you quip. Far too snappy for such a groggy early morning. Jason knows you've been up for a while now.

Before any more words could potentially be exchanged, you tugged on a pair of clean sweatpants and one of your own shirts. Usually, you would wear one of Jason's to the point where you genuinely forgot you had your own drawer full of clothes.

You storm your way out of the room quickly and go straight to the bathroom to take off your bonnet and fix your hair.

Lo and behold, the twist out didn't work out as intended, and now your hair didn't look as you wanted. The curls were wonky, there was almost no volume, and the back was still wet.

Your frustrated eyes land on Jason's clippers. Through and impulsive rage, you wanted to take it to your head and juts be done with it. This was not the first time your hair didn't work out, nor the first time you wanted to cut all of it off.

Suddenly back in reality, you begin to feel guilty for snapping at Jason earlier, and thinking so badly of him.

God, is this who I am?

All you wanted to do was burst back in there and hug him and tell him that you didn't mean it and that you were sorry and-

Hot tears began streaming down your face, burning rivers into your sullen face. Above all, you craved Jason, but he deserved the sleep and peace on the rare occasions he has to relax. Why couldn't you be peaceful?

You covered your sobs, which only made your feelings worse. The bathroom tile was too cold, but you were too warm at the same time.

It was so dark but too bright. Your skin felt hot but frigid at the same time.

Every quick expansion of your lungs pushing against your ribcage hurt badly. It didn't help that you were beginning to hyperventilate.

Speaking of hyperventilation, you soon realized that even though you weren't sobbing anymore , you couldn't breathe.

Your lungs were taking in all the air around you but also none at all, and you felt lightheaded.

At the same time, your skin began to itch from the beads of sweat surfacing, and your sharp nails began to dig into your skin to scratch it.

Drag after drag of nails on your skin caused it to feel raw and exposed.

While you were caught in your own whirlwind, you didn't hear Jason call out to you. Or his frantic footsteps when you didn't respond. Or his pleas for you to open your eyes and pay attention to him.

Jason was beyond worried when he saw you, panicked and frightened, digging into your skin and rushed to stop you.

He gently pried your fingers from your skin and made a mental note to talk to you about it later.

"Hey shhh baby, no more of that...it hurt's doesn't it?" he cooed as he began to hold your sharp fingers in his hands.

You nod tentatively, still trying to will air to stay in your lungs for longer than half a second.

"Alright princess, you're gonna breathe with me, okay?" Jason says as he tries to hide how concerned he was in effort to keep you as calm as possible.

"Okay breathe in" he begins, eyes trained on your eyes and hands massaging your palms.

You follow his prompts to the best of your abilities, trying to control your breaths the way he does.

After a few cycles of calm breathing, the guilt has nested itself fully in the pits of your stomach.

How could he be so kind after you thought so ill of him juts a few moments ago?

Surely you didn't deserve this.

Surely, he was playing a sick joke on you.

There's no way that he could actually lo-

"Princess? You here with me?" Jason's calm voice cutting through your thoughts.

You look up at him, shame set deep in your eyes.

"I'm so-"

"Nope." he quips with practices ease.

"But I-" you try again, this time determined.

"No. You will not apologize to me for being human." He insists as he rests his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes at the contact, a stark contrast to the sickly feeling your skin had moments ago.

Your eyes begin to sting once more as thoughts of being undeserving of such kindness resurface. You turn your head away from him and haul yourself up from the floor in effort to avoid him seeing you cry again.

As you turn away to step out the door, barely holding back a sob, Jason's warm, soft hand catches your wrist. Gently, he pulls you back into him and wraps his strong arms around you.

Careful not to crush you, he squeezes, physically pressing all his love for you into the hug as you continued to cry softly.

"'m not upset baby, I promise i'm not" Jason reassures as he rocks you in his arms.

He is all too familiar with the guilt you're feeling and so desperately wishes he could make it go away. He knows what it's like to say and think hurtful things you don't necessarily mean about the people you love.

His arms begin to rub at your back, soothing your inner hurt. You felt safe, calm and protected in his embrace.

Slowly, you calmed and your sobs were reduced to sniffles.

Jason tried to let go and move you, but you clung to his tighter in silent refusal.

He chuckles at you gripping his shirt and barely shaking your head that was buried in his chest.

"Alright, alright. These arms are always yours, love."

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

i'm so sorry its taking me so long to finish these requests my chronic pain is making it hard to be a human rn

[thelandboundseawitch]

🐏Imbolc🐏

Imbolc, also known as Candlemas, or Brigid's Day, is a sabbat which celebrates the end of winter and the coming of spring. Groundhog's Day, a holiday celebrated in North America at this time, is very also celebrates the end of winter. The waking trees, softening and reviving Earth, and the return of the goddess. Imbolc starts on February 1st and lasts until sunset the next day.

Activities

Candle-making

Spring Cleaning

Create a Brigid Cross with straw

Plan your spring garden

Bake bread

Make potpourri

Make corn dollies

Make herbal tea

Take a hot bath

Making flower crowns or floral wreaths

Altar Decorations

White Candles

Brigid Cross

Corn Dollies

Flowers

Seeds and bulbs

Bread

Sheep and Lambs

Goddess Statues

Animals

Deer

Groundhog

Bear

Lamb

Ewe

Swan

Colors

White

Pale Green

Pale Pink

Pale Yellow

Lavender

Pale Brown

Crystals

Amethyst

Garnet

Onyx

Ruby

Turquoise

Bloodstone

Calcite

Moonstone

Deities

Bridgid

Gaia

Aphrodite

Venus

Hestia

Cupid

Eros

Flowers

Lavender

Chamomile

Daffodil

Crocus

Iris

Snowdrop

Food

Grains

Oats

Herbal Teas

Nuts

Bread

Potatoes

Seed

Honey

Milk

Cheese

White Meat

Raisins

Spice Cake

Incense and Oils

Frankincense

Jasmine

Myrrh

Rosemary

Basil

Wisteria

Vanilla

Lotus

Plants & Herbs

Angelica (Wild Celery)

Basil

Bay Laurel(Bay Leaf)

Rosemary

Cinnamon

Hay / Straw

Willow

Birch

Juniper

Spells and Rituals

Imbolc is the perfect time to cast spells, especially ones related to new beginnings, fertility, and the hearth. Spells regarding birth and rebirth are also seasonally appropriate due to many animals giving birth at this time of the year.

Final Notes

According to an old english folk tradition, if the weather is fine and clear on Candlemas, then cold and stormy weather will reign for the remaining weeks of winter. And bad weather at the beginning of February is a harbinger of a milder winter, and an early thaw.

There are different meanings for what Imbolc means, some say it means “In the belly” because of herding animals being pregnant. But historically Imbolc comes from the Gaelic word “Oimelc” which means “ewes milk”, because some animals have just given birth.

[plant-taxonomy-showdown]

Bonus Round 1/Semi-finals: Asterids vs Other Core Eudicots!

Spiky vs Toxic

Asterids: Down to earth, practical, and here to mess you up. The clade of potatoes, olive oil, coffee, dandelions, tobacco, and poison hemlock. RIP Socrates.

Other Core Eudicots: An ornery bunch, here we’ve got carnivorous plants, cacti, spinach, currants, and…tumbleweed? Also sandlewood, because this paraphyletic group likes to smell nice when it goes into the ring.

(What's a eudicot? The class that won the previous round. More info here. Many taxonomic categories can be divided up into "basal" and "core" members, the basal ones splitting off the evolutionary tree relatively early on, while the core ones have a more recent common ancestor.)

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 4

Part 1 2 3 4

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. Angst, sadness, grief. Smut. Tags will be updated with each chapter.

This one got a little spicy 🌹

You took a deep breath as you looked up at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was nearly 6pm, already feeling a little drained by your busy and productive day.

You'd woken early and had noticed that George had already left for work by the time you'd gotten up and so you got ready and walked to the cafe on the corner, grabbed a quick coffee and a pastry to go before walking towards the Friday market in the centre of town, shopping bag and grocery list in hand. You walked around the little market and picked up some fresh vegetables and a handmade apple pie that looked delicious, deciding to buy that rather than make your own from scratch. You'd decided on cooking a Sunday roast lamb dinner, though it was Friday, and had chosen to present it using a giant Yorkshire pudding, something you'd seen creeping up in popularity within the muggle world that you were certain Arthur would greatly enjoy.

You bought fresh carrots, parsnips and a fresh mint plant that you needed to make your own mint sauce and some flowers for the table before walking to the supermarket and purchasing a lamb joint from the butcher section and a few more essentials, including wine, before walking home with your purchases. You'd listened to muggle radio stations as you washed and prepped the veg, bouncing around as you sang along to the songs that you knew, intermittently stopping to grab a sip of your tea in between tasks. Around 12 you stopped what you were doing, happy with the progress you'd made and fixed your hair and clothes briefly before apparating to the shop to take George some lunch. The shop was busy but not unmanageable and you could see that Ron had stepped in to help him, working the till. George noticed you immediately and gave you a wide smile, finishing up with the customer he was helping before walking over to you, gesturing for you both to go to the office.

"I didn't know if you had any lunch," you said, handing him a little bag of stuff you'd picked up from the shop, "thought I could take some of your stuff back with me, give you a bit more time tonight."

"You're too good to me," George says with a wink, enthusiastically pulling out the food from the bag, looking as if he was almost salivating at the sight.

You'd spent his lunch break together, preparing yourselves for tonight as he ate and then you'd apparated back with a bundle of his things that he had pulled earlier that morning, stuff that he knew would make it seem that he was living with you completely.

You checked the lamb and made the mint sauce quickly, peeled some more potatoes just in case and then set to cleaning. Once everywhere was clean, you went into George's room and brought out all of his things and moved them into your bedroom. His books went on the side of your bed, a pair of pyjamas were laid out on the dresser and you'd moved some of your girlier accessories into the spare bedroom so make it seem like you'd decorated up a guest bedroom. You stripped George's bed, throwing the bedding in the wash and replaced the sheet with a set of your own spare sets, so it again looked like a guest bedroom. You set up a little decorative area in your bedroom with some of George's things, adding them into the shelves and then had placed more of his things into the bathroom, along with placing his aftershave next to your perfume on the dresser.

Once you were happy with the flat, you took a minute to sit with a drink before finishing up the meal prep. You then took a shower, did your hair and makeup and got dressed, ready for the actual cooking, seeing that it was late afternoon already.

At 6:17pm, George apparated into the living room and his eyebrows immediately shot up, looking around.

"Wow Angel, looks like I've moved in," he says, reaching out for your hand as he pulls you close.

"I'd say so," you laughed, allowing him to pull you in. When his thumb caught on the stones of your engagement ring, he smiled and focused his gaze on the ring, seeing it on your finger.

"Looks great," he says, gesturing around you, "as do you."

"Oh Mr Weasley, you charm me," you joked, pulling away from him with a laugh as you smoothed out your skirt.

"Well future Mrs Weasley, that is my job," he smirks, twirling your around in his arms, making a quiet squeal fall from your lips at the unexpected motion.

"I thought you owned a joke shop?" You retorted, causing him to snort.

"I do, yet it appears you are the one with all the jokes tonight."

"Then perhaps you should make me a business partner," you jest, seeing George's smile growing.

"I intend to my love," he says smoothly, with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he stops spinning you, both of you looking at each other with a smile.

"You should get ready, they'll be here soon," you saw quietly, unable to look away from George's smiling face.

Fifteen minutes later and George is showered, dried and dressed, both of you waiting in the kitchen for his parents to arrive. Molly preferred not to apparate, having mentioned before that it left her feeling horribly nauseous no matter how many times she'd tried and so Arthur had offered to drive them in the car, muggle style.

"I'll go," George says, placing a hand onto your shoulder to calm you as he walks past you to open the door, having heard the telltale knock moments earlier.

"Oh y/n dear, how wonderful to see you!" She says, bounding over to you with a wide smile on her face, pulling you in for a hug as soon as she could reach you.

"Hello Mrs Weasley," you say warmly, holding on to her tightly. She looked very pretty with a flower beret in her hair, clearly having made an effort tonight in her beautifully crafted green crochet shawl and dress.

"Oh please, I've told you to call me Molly for years!" She laughs, stepping aside and looking around, "what a lovely place you have!"

"We have," George corrects her, stepping through into the lounge with you, Arthur following behind. You embrace and greet each other warmly as George explains to Molly that you two are living together.

"Oh well that is wonderful news!" She says, clapping her hands together, "you didn't tell me you were an item!" She says, smacking George on the arm as she looks between your both. He doesn't even flinch and simply laughs, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh well done son!" Arthur says, clapping George on the shoulder warmly before sending you a special smile.

"Would anyone like a drink?" You offer, listing off a few things you have on hand. You go and fetch them both a drink and quickly check on the food before diving into conversation, listening to Molly's explanation of what her oldest children were up to.

"Well I have to say, that was absolutely delicious," Arthur says, placing down his cutlery and sitting back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his full stomach, "amazing what these muggles come up with isn't it, a giant Yorkshire pudding!"

You can't help but smile at his reaction, pleased that the novelty had gone down a treat. You catch George's eye as Molly compliments your cooking and he looks proud, a gentle, honest smile tugging at his lips.

"So how long have you been together, very sneaky of you both!" Molly says with a warm smile, pointing a playful accusatory finger between you and George.

"About six months," George says effortlessly, sticking to the little story you'd both created. He clears his throat and looks at you with a determined glance before turning back to his parents.

"We were going to wait until after dinner but now seems as good'a time as any," George says smoothly before reaching for your left hand, which you place in his, ring side up.

The sparkle immediately catches Molly's eye and she gasps loudly, causing Arthur to jump up in his seat.

"I've asked her to marry me," he says, looking into your eyes with a smile that you reciprocate.

"And I said yes," you replied, smiling warmly at him.

Molly let's out an animated squeal and rushes from her chair to envelope you both into a hug, her body bouncing in elation as Arthur beams with pride, his hands raising into the air in celebration.

"Oh how wonderful!"

"We must celebrate, now, everyone raise your glasses!" Arthur says proudly, raising his own glass of daisyroot. Molly scrambles to reach for her glass and you and George take hold of your own, raising and clinking them together in a round of cheers. The moment feels real and you don't even question it, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment with your smile beaming across your face.

Molly immediately bursts out into wedding planning, mentioning that her own dress was put aside for Ginny but she had a beautiful hair beret that you could use as your something borrowed and she could always try and convince Muriel to let you borrow her tiara even though she'd been rude about it with Fleur. You laughed and nodded the whole way through the conversation as George and Arthur had broken off into their own as Arthur proudly tapped George on the back, telling him outright how proud he was of him.

You cleared away with plates with a flick of your wand and then brought out the warm apple pie with a selection of custard and icecream, depending on everyone's preference. More drinks were had and by the end of the pudding you were beginning to feel a little tipsy, especially when George pulled out a bottle of fire whiskey to celebrate with.

You all congregated back into the lounge after the meal had finishes, laughing and drinking as Molly told stories of the kids when they were younger. Fred was mentioned a few times and initially it had felt like a kick to your gut but you pushed through and as the drinks flowed, so did the conversation.

"Goodness gracious look at the time! Arthur, we'd better get home," Molly says, tapping Arthur on the chest. He nods dutifully, sinking the last of his fire whiskey and begins to stand, immediately wobbling until he falls back onto the sofa. George turns to cast a look at you and you immediately understand what he's trying to communicate; there's no possibility he'd be able to drive home having drank so much and apparating would be incredibly dangerous for him due to his intoxication, which meant they would have to stay with you for the foreseeable.

George had managed to convince his parents to stay after their lengthy protests and you'd gladly offered them the 'guest bedroom' to sleep in.

George apparated back to the Burrow to collect a few things they might need after a lengthy list that Molly had reeled off with clear instructions on where everything way and exactly what he'd be looking for.

Whilst George was gone you made a cup of tea for everyone and began prepping their room for the night, ensuring that everything was neat and clean, with no hint of George's things being crammed into the room. George arrived back not too long after with their things and helped to get his parents settled into their room, mainly helping Molly get Arthur into something comfier and then into bed.

You'd had a fabulous night and it had gone so much better than you'd hoped, feeling firmly included and welcomed into the family even more than you already had been, even if it wasn't technically real. George came out of their room a few minutes later and you both couldn't help but giggle at the turn of events, never having seen Arthur so inebriated before. He was a joyful drunk, telling stories and little quips that we're actually rather interesting and the new side you'd seen of him only greatened your fondness for him. George came and sat next to you on the sofa now that it was just you and him and he immediately placed his arm around your back, pulling you into him.

"Well, complete success I'd say," he says quietly, keeping hold of you as you melt into his side, keeping his voice low just incase his parents were still awake. He reached for the television remote and flicked it on to a random channel, not really paying attention though it was nice to have a little background noise.

"Such a good night," you said fondly with a small smile, trying to suppress a yawn as you cuddled into him, watching the screen.

"That meal was delicious," he says, beginning to stroke your shoulder where his hand rests, "I'd marry you tomorrow now I know what your roast dinners taste like."

"Well lucky you," you say with a cheeky smile, "maybe not tomorrow though, I'm rather busy."

"Oh really?" He says with a playful tone, playing along.

"Yes, you see I'm head potioneer for this little joke shop in Diagon Alley, you've probably never heard of it," you say, "well their stores of potion products are low and it's my wonderful job to brew more, all day tomorrow. So I'm very sorry but I can't marry you tomorrow, much too busy."

"Well isn't that a shame," he says quickly, "perhaps I should have a word with this boss of yours, he sounds tyrannical, working you as he is."

"Oh absolutely, he's a menace, Mussolini in brown tweed."

George immediately lunges for you with your last comment and you can't help but laugh, trying your hardest to keep quiet as he grabs you and rolls you about on the sofa. Only when you pull apart does he pause and smile at you widely, his face lighting up with his smile.

"Want to go to bed?"

The very words make your stomach roll a little in nervous excitement, though you try desperately not to show it on your face. You simply nod and offer a warm but mildly fake smile before you stand and ensure everything is locked and switched off.

Though you and George had shared a bed only a few nights ago, this was entirely different and a nervous anticipation consumed you, knowing you'd both be heading to bed at the same time, both of you aware that this was happening.

"Need the toilet? I'm going to get undressed," he says, gesturing with a nod towards the en-suite in your bedroom.

"No, you go on," you said with a smile, walking over to the dresser to grab some pyjamas. You heard the door close and as you pulled open the drawer, an immediate dilemma faced you. What would you wear to bed?

You looked down at the various pyjamas in your drawer and felt frozen with choice, not knowing how to proceed as the different materials stared back at you, each of them seeming to convey something. There were a few pairs of oversized, frumpy sets that you mainly wore in winter or when you were needing comfort but they weren't exactly 'nice' nor would they look very attractive on, most of them having some sort of embarrassing pattern or cheesy slogan printed on the front. You didn't want George to see you in something so frumpy and shapeless, looking like you'd made absolutely no effort on yourself but the alternative seemed much too drastic too. There were a few nicer sets of lace and silk in sensual colours that you used to wear for Fred but wearing one of those would send a clear message to George that you didn't feel was appropriate, or it would look like you were trying too hard. You dig through the drawer, thankfully still hearing the water running in the bathroom and tried to find a compromise. Should you wear a bra? Everything felt so confusing.

You realised that you could no longer hear the water running and reached for a cotton set at the bottom, trying to make it seem like you hadn't spent his entire shower agonising over this simple choice. It was a simple camisole top with long bottoms, dark red and black check with just a little lace on the neckline, comfy but attractive.

You passed him on his way out of the shower, seeing the tips of his hair still damp and his pyjamas clinging to his slightly moist skin, hugging the wider parts of his chest and shoulders deliciously.

You washed off your makeup, splashing cold water on your face for good measure as you tried to calm your racing thoughts, knowing that you were being ridiculous. He probably wouldn't even see you if it was dark. You put on your pyjamas, throwing your dress in the hamper and took one look at yourself before turning off the light and stepping out into the bedroom. The lamp was on, dimly illuminating the room and you could see George reading in bed, covers pushed up to his hips as he concentrates on the page he's reading. He looks up at you though you don't look back at him as you take off your jewellery, leaving your engagement ring on, feeling his gaze burning into your side.

It feels more than awkward, peeling back the covers and slipping into your own bed now that George was already settled on one side.

"Is this okay?" George asks and it takes you a moment to realise he means the lamp.

"Yeah of course," you reply absently but politely as you sink down in bed, pulling the covers up to your waist. There's a few moments of silence that feels in between awkward and comfortable, knowing that your awkwardness stemmed from your own anxiety whereas George probably found the silence comforting as he read his book.

"Okay sorry," George says with a bit of a huff, marking his page with whatever he was using as a bookmark, a chocolate frog card by the looks of it, and placed the book into his lap, turning to you. You gazed up at him, leaning forward a little in concern at his sudden outburst. "How do you look so good in pyjamas?"

Your mind is completely empty, astounded by his words. His face had softened significantly as he looked upon your shocked face, a gentle chuckle passing his lips. "Sorry, it's just, no ones going to believe you're married to me when you're so hot."

You were hallucinating, you were almost certain of it. Those words had never come from George Weasley before and your mind started to spiral whilst your face remained blank, heart racing in excitement. You knew that the only way to reply was to fight it with humour, not able to believe that he was being serious.

"Shove off, I'm comfy," you replied, though your words felt hollow, almost like they weren't actually coming out of your own mouth.

"I'm being serious," he says chuckling with a shake of his head. "Only you could make pyjamas look yule ball worthy."

"How much have you had to drink?" You laugh, playfully nudging him, still trying to deflect his words.

He simply smiles at you in return, "very little actually, dad drank most of it." You both giggle a little at the thought of Arthur snoring away in the spare room, George's room.

"Well you're not so bad yourself Weasley," you tease, your gaze flicking to his bulging arms for just a second, seeing that the T-shirt was just slightly too tight around his biceps.

There's a brief moment when everything seems to pause and as if in slow motion, George leans over and presses his lips to yours, only hesitating for a moment as he looks as your face, searching for any hesitation, in which he finds none. Your lips meet his and its like an electric current is passing between you both, igniting something inside you that has you pressing into him and fuelling the kiss. The clattering of the book is a distant noise to you as the kiss deepens, George's hand wrapping around your jaw line as he pulls you in, his tongue slipping out and caressing your own. You feel weightless, breathless, like you're floating, hardly even aware of your hands as they reach out for him, feeling the soft material of his T-shirt under your fingertips as you seek purchase on his shoulders, a fire burning between you.

Clothes are shed with desperation, either of you able to fight the blistering urge to feel the other completely. His lips are all over you, his touch only fuelling the desire that consumes you, leaving you unable to think clearly as you seek out his touch. It's raw and primal, no time for thinking or hesitation as you melt into each other, passion and arousal overwhelming everyone of your senses. He's hot to the touch and in the back of your mind you can feel your own heat coursing through your body, feeling more out of control than you ever hand but at the same time, feeling completely safe and right. When he slips inside you for the first time, it's all you can do not to cry out, the pleasant stretch and overwhelming relief of the sensation is the only thing you can think of. Your glad that he'd been quick to cast a silencing charm around the room as you mom out, unable to hold back any longer as your hips meet his, desperate to keep him inside of you. He groans out again, moaning with abandon as his hips only increase in pace, seeing your own body contorting in pleasure, working with his movements to create the most sensual scene and feeling he could fathom. When his hand slips to your exposed breasts, fingers plucking as your hardened nipples, you cry out his name ecstasy and are blessed with an almost whimpering moan from him as his thrusts get harder, watching as your breasts bounce in time with his thrusts, your body working to double your efforts chasing after the fullness he provides. Your walls begin to clench as the pleasure rises, white hot heat of bliss overtaking you, feeling his long and skilful fingers toying with your breasts, your pussy stretched around his perfect cock that hits every pleasure filled spot inside you and your throbbing clit rubbing sinfully against his happy trail with every deep thrust. It's too much and not enough all at the same time and you cry out his name over and over as your orgasm washes over you, hardly noticing his own climax until you slowly come down from your high, no longer feeling the force of his thrusts as he lazily slips in and out of you slowly in the come down. There's a warmth from deep inside you that is both intoxicating and comforting, knowing that the evidence of his pleasure had coated your insides, as if he'd claimed you as his own.

You're both breathless, panting against each other as your sweat covered bodies meld together, George's arms barely holding him up anymore as he slowly sinks down, putting more of his weight on to you that you welcome. You're still connected in every sense, your arms clutched around his shoulders, legs linked over hip hips and his now softened cock still inside of you. You reach up just enough to kiss his forehead where it is nestled into your neck, trying to prevent any awkwardness from slipping in to the blissful moment. His head turns downwards and he presses fluttering kisses over your chest, kissing each breast and trailing upwards until he kisses you on the lips with a sweetness that is a stark contrast to the burning passion of before. When he looks up at you, you feel breathless all over again. His eyes are so filled with emotion that it truly makes your heart flutter, seeing yourself reflected in his eyes, a look that you'd never seen crossing his gorgeous features.

With one last kiss, he slowly pulls away as your limbs disconnect from him and though you feel truly satisfied, you can't help but feel a little empty as his soft cock slowly slips out of you, no longer bringing you warmth or fullness. There's nothing said, no words needed as he pulls you into his still sweaty chest, unfazed at his nudity as his arms wrap around you, a kiss pressed to your hair as you lie there in utter contentment.

You realise George had fallen asleep a little while later and you attempt to slip out of his arms undetected as you make your way to the en-suite, careful not to wake him. You pee for good measure and consider showering but don't quite feel up to it right now. When you look in the mirror, you see a beaming smile greeting you in your reflection, not having noticed that you were doing so. You realised then how utterly happy you were, feeling more content than you had in so long.

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[revasserium]

on the subject of birthdays - pt 1

ft. sakusa, daichi, suga, and tsukki

sakusa.

he thinks he should buy you flowers, even though he tells himself that he doesn’t know if you’ll be allergic to a specific kind of flower, so he spends too much time looking up the worlds most hypoallergenic flowers, before komori mentions that he could just buy you fake flowers, which will last longer anyway, and he entertains the idea for an entire afternoon before deciding against it because a) fake flowers will collect dust, and dust can trigger reactions too and b) what if you read too much into it and come to the conclusion that just because he bought you fake flowers, he didn’t deem you worthy of real, living flowers? no, no, no. a misunderstanding of such potentially catastrophic nature simply wouldn’t do. a stuffed animal then? no, those would collect dust too, and heaven knows you’ve already got enough. so a plant, still. but what kind? he lingers outside the local horticulture shop for so long the round-faced girl behind the counter wonders if she should call the cops before he finally goes in to inquire, “what kind of plant do you have that — that doesn’t have flowers and won’t die so easily?” to which she’d blinked and pointed, nonplussed at a group of succulents sitting on the windowsill. and this, he explains, in one long, hurried, mumbling under-breath is how he comes to be standing here, at your front door, on the morning of your birthday, sporting two pots of neatly trimmed succulents, looking vaguely abashed. “they — they’re easy to take care of, most people aren’t allergic and — and they won’t collect that much dust so…” he looks away, clearing his throat as heat crawls up his cheeks, “uhm… happy birthday. i guess.”

daichi.

he wakes up early — he cooks you breakfast; he doesn’t tell you about the hundred or so texts he’d sent the rest of his team trying to crowdsource what exactly to make you that day. there are flowers on the bedside table and a glass of your favorite juice on the breakfast tray and the apartment smells like cinnamon and waffles and the slightly burnt edge of toast. he wakes you up with a kiss, a smile, a whispered happy birthday; he doesn’t tell you about the three minutes he’d spent at the bedside, counting your even breaths like counting stars — one, two, three — twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two — he doesn’t tell you about the way he’d ghosted his finger along the bend of your cheek, bit his own lips as he bends down to kiss you, hesitating just a second to swallow back his heart, thudding at the back of his tongue, threatening to leap from his mouth to yours. your smile is radiant and sweet enough to evoke the jealousy of honey-bees as you open your eyes and see him, and he thinks that he might like to wake you up like this every day, birthday or not — because he’d never tire of kissing you awake, of beginning his day with the length of your smile.

sugawara.

he spends the whole day pretending that it’s a day just like any other, grinning over his morning coffee (thank god your birthday is on a weekend this year), nodding towards your cup, ready-made and steaming, one cream and two sugars, just like every other weekend morning you’d spent together. he hums as he flicks through his phone, asking what you’d like to do, interrupting you with a mild exclamation that “ah! we need to go grocery shopping! we’re out of onions and there’s only one sweet potato left!”, leaning down to give you a swift kiss before sweeping off to get changed, leaving you pouting at the dining table, wondering if your darling boyfriend had truly forgotten about your birthday. and so you go grocery shopping, and you’re preoccupied enough not to notice that he’s surreptitiously picking all your favorites, leading you through the ice cream aisle and making note of all the flavors you pause over. the early afternoon is spent dragging you around the farmer’s market, where you linger over the freshly picked flowers before he tugs you away without once asking if you’d like some. and by the time you both get back to your shared apartment, you’d made up your mind to at least remind him about it — it is your birthday after all. but the moment the front door opens, you’re greeted with an avalanche of glitter and confetti, a loud shout of “surprise!!!” making you nearly leap out of your skin. in the three seconds it takes you to realize what your boyfriend had done, he’d leaned down to press a sweet kiss to your cheek, tugging you into your own surprise party, decorated with all the flowers you’d lingered over, the fridge piled with all the ice cream flavors you’d just been looking at this morning. “c’mon, did you really think i’d forget your birthday? i just needed a bit of time to prepare is all! now, let’s get this party started!”

tsukishima.

he is caught between equal parts dread and excitement, because to be honest, he’d never quite understood the appeal of birthday parties. but then he’d seen how your cheeks glad glowed when the team had put up a party for hinata in the middle of summer, a handful of balloons and streamers in the locker rooms, and a good few pounds of well-cooked bbq meat — he’d seen the glitter in your eyes, the unabashed joy as your lips pulled up into a smile — and he’d never admit it out loud but he decided then that he’d do whatever it takes to make you smile like that for him. so when the day comes, he spends too long fretting, paces across the living room of his apartment (much to the barely disguised glee of his brother, who had thankfully offered to help drive around and gather all the things), scowling as yamaguchi shows up with the cake and the flowers, and kiyoko-senpai shows up with the balloons and the streamers and it irks him to no end to have so many people all at his house, but it was the only place he could’ve asked you to come without you questioning him about it but… the way you’d smiled when you stepped into the room to find them all there, to find the same balloons and the same streamers, to find the matcha layer cake next to a slice of strawberry short cake, to find him, standing there, twisting his fingers, his cheeks positively sizzling with heat… well. he thinks that it was worth it. but it isn’t till later, when all the guests have gone and all the cake’s been eaten, when it’s finally just you and him, curled up on his bed, you in his lap, his chin resting against the top of your head that he leans down to tug you to him, press a soft kiss to your lips, “there… been thinking about doing that all day.” but the way you blush when he pulls back has him smirking and dragging you down for another, and then another, his voice going dark as he smirks against the skin of your neck as he whispers, “so now that everyone’s gone… how about we get to your real present, hm?”

pt 2 ft. kageyama, hinata, & miya twins coming soon

hq! reqs are open :)

[jinnie-ret]

Hey can I request a fluffy comfort gif where y/n has period cramps and stays to work from home and is kind of in a bad mood so when Hyunjin comes home early from (idk doing Versace ambassador stuff lol) and he tells her he isn’t feeling well and he’s got a stomachache too, she gets annoyed and thinks he’s just teasing. But later on she realizes he’s actually sick and being serious and she feels bad and takes care of him 🎀🤭

under the weather

hyunjin x reader

gif imagine

genre: fluff, teeny tiny angst

content warnings: none

summary: you think hyunjin is teasing you as normal when you're on your period, but turns out he's not feeling too great himself.

My first gif imagine! Hope you enjoy!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

HYUNJIN'S MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

You were used to his teasing, even when you were in a bad mood like this. Cramps, a raging headache and not enough food to satiate your cravings. Of course he always made sure you were okay too, which was why you were surprised by his quiet mood, especially since he has just come back from his recent Versace trip. You had seen plenty of posts on social media and it made you miss him even more. Why wasn't he his normal excited self?

"Hi love, I missed you," you clung onto him as he entered your apartment, looking more tired than usual.

"Mmm, yeha, missed you too," Hyunjin sighed as he walked in, automatically collapsing on the sofa.

"Wow, what a great welcome back," you roll your eyes, unable to help your bad mood from returning as you sat next to him.

"Sorry, I did miss you, I saw your texts as well, I know you've not been feeling great," he sat up slowly, stroking your hair.

"Cramps have been extra bad," you groan, leaning into him.

"I know how you feel," he groaned, leaning against you, staring off at the wall after taking a glance at you.

"Don't tease this time, they've actually been so bad," you playfully whack his stomach, but he hunches over and groans.

"Stop messing around, Jinnie," you whine.

"I'm not, got such a bad stomachache, must have been bad plane food," he hunched over again.

That's when you realise he wasn't joking around this time, it should have been obvious from his mood, you thought.

"Oh, love, I'm sorry I thought you were messing," you sighed, sitting up and wrapping an arm around him and rubbing soothing circles into his back.

"No, not this time darling," he groaned again.

"Let me get you what normally helps me," you pouted as you wiped away his small tears of pain.

You got up and grabbed two hot water bottles, slowly moving around and pouring boiling water into them, as well as two mugs of tea. First you brought over the bottles and gave him one, gently pressing it against his stomach. He immediately let out a sigh in response, seeming to relax a bit.

"Here, have some tea, take these too," you put down your mugs of tea on the table, just as you handed him some paracetamol.

"Thank you Y/Nnie, I know you're not feeling too good either," he took the tablets, curling up on the sofa.

"It's ok, you know what though, I think we'd both be comfier in bed right now, yeah?" you pushed back his hair as you planted a kiss on his forehead.

He nodded and slowly sat up, carrying the mugs as you held the hot water bottles and rested your hand on his back.

"What are we gonna do, hey? We're both gonna be like potatoes laying around in bed," you lightly laughed, the roles now reversed as you carded your hand through his hair as he cuddled up to you, head rested on your chest.

"I'll just be a potato forever then if I get to lay here forever with you," he murmured lightly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles of your other hand.

"Do you always get sentimental when you're under the weather?" you teased him now, your cramps easing ever so slightly.

"Sshhh, you, I'm unwell, you need to take care of me," he looked up at you with pouty lips.

"I will, love don't you worry," you pecked him on the lips, smiles prominent on both of your faces as you relaxed in the comfort of each other.

tagged: @skz-streamer @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @kiraisastay @sakufilms