#heavy planter

[delightfuldevin]

I got this Petey sticker as a freebie with something I ordered from ebay and I didn’t know where to put it so I put it on the rack that holds my dumbbells. And now I imagine that he’s my workout buddy,,

[bending-sickle]

Today I Got Yelled At For:

Cleaning the terrace.

[resplendent-dwellings]

[shslsyoko]

Exterior Fiberboard Baltimore

Idea for a large, three-story eclectic brown home with concrete fiberboard siding and shingles

[lo-carb]

My lemon drop melons and cantaloupes are coming in! Since I gave up on using the frame for a greenhouse, I pieced this together to at least give the vines something to grow up on.

[thethingything]

sometimes you end up stood in the middle of your room covered in cinnamon, dirt, and horticultural sand for the 2nd time in a week, but this time instead of an existential crisis you've been traumatised by a dentist and you're suddenly processing that you shouldn't really have tried gardening while in the middle of a fatigue flare...

[yanderefarm]

DUDE SILVAN IS SO…sigh. I need him lowkey..wanna reassure him and tell him he’s a good pet when he gets all insecure and upset :( ik he’d taste so good

comforting silvan

cw;; blood, vampires, dehumanization, hurt/comfort

this isn't a direct sequel to the last one but i wanted the illusion of that by setting it in the greenhouse during a rainstorm. enjoy just some simple comforting and reassuring your pet... before i hurt him again

the manor is too quiet. it's not like it's usually bustling with life considering it was full of undead creatures. but usually your pet, the only human in the manor, was making some kind of noise. silvan would be looking around for you or he would be entertaining himself with something. you tried to not pry into his life too much, it seems a bit foolish but you didn't want to accidentally take away anything that was still his. maybe you shouldn't leave him alone too much.

you couldn't find him. he wasn't in his room, he wasn't in your room, and he wasn't in the punishment room. you got concerned when he hadn't come to visit you for lunch in your office and according to your staff he hadn't even gone to have lunch in the dining room today. now you found yourself in his shoes, wandering from room to room trying to find your pet. you had looked in almost every room in the manor but he just wasn't anywhere.

you heard thunder crash outside drawing your gaze to the storm raging. you looked out the window watching as the rain pelted against the greenhouse. the lit greenhouse. you touched the frosted glass, your skin sticking slightly to the cold pane as you searched for a shadow inside the greenhouse. aside from the usual plants there was an odd shadow of what looked like it could be a pot on the floor. if you were a gambling man you'd bet that's where he was.

with your umbrella in hand you made your way outside, the rain growing ever louder. when you finally reached the greenhouse doors you could hear the wind angrily shuttering the windows of the building. it was unlocked like you had expected and you hoped that you weren't about to find the gardener at work. the light flooded the dark cold outside and greeted you with the sweet scent of your flowers. you took a deep breath to appreciate it before you stepped into the building.

you walked past rows of planters and pots filled with different flowers, herbs, and other greenery. your eyes finally caught a bit of silvan's pants leg and you stopped before you reached him. he had been able to hide himself under the sound of the rain and scent of the flowers, almost like he'd been trying to hide from you specifically. you could hear his heart was racing now, the sound like thunder in your ears.

you hesitated to open your mouth but you didn't want to leave him alone out here. "silvan, if you don't want me to be here I can pretend I didn't see you but please come inside for lunch."

you heard him whimper from his spot before the bit of his legs you could see disappeared. you let out a heavy sigh and lowered yourself to sit on the ground where you stood. you were certain now that he was hiding from you but you still didn't feel like you could just leave him.

"did something happen? are you worried I'm going to punish you?" that earned you another whimper.

"mm... i don't know what it is so i can't guarantee you won't be punished but if you tell me now we can figure it out together." you reached out your hand far enough that he could see it.

you opened your mouth to speak again when his warm hand grabbed yours. just the small contact of his soft skin was enough to bring you a welcomed warmth. you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze which spurred silvan to finally crawl out of his hiding spot. as his face came into view you could see his tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes tell tale signs he'd been crying for a while. he sat in front of you, his hand holding onto yours as tightly as his human strength allowed.

"im sorry, master..." he didn't dare to look up at you, his eyes fixed on the ground between you two.

"tell me what happened." you ran your thumb over the back of his hand to encourage him.

"I'm the most worthless useless..." his voice cracked as tears brimmed in his eyes again.

you'd heard him talk about himself like this a thousand times. "silvan. why do you say that?"

"its true..." he fidgeted a bit under your gaze. "the noble that visited you this morning..."

you remembered the conversation you'd had this morning. a greedy fool wanted to bolster his small human farm by presenting you with a new pet and in the process he put down your current pet. you hadn't dignified him with a response at the time because you found it too stupid and braindead to comment on. you should have.

"i know I'm not impressive or prestigious... the only thing im good for is my blood and im sure someone else would taste better than me.." he sniffled as he tried to hold his tears back in his burning throat. "i didn't even feed you today.. worthless useless garbage... garbage, garbage, garbage..."

"are you done?" your tone was a bit harsher than you intended it to be but you were getting annoyed at yourself and the idiot you'd seen this morning.

you pulled his hand back towards your body, pressing your lips against his knuckles. "you keep insulting me.. you might need punished after all."

"n-no i-"

"an insult to my property is an insult to me. do you understand?" you looked up at him, your lips still pressed against his hand. his olive eyes met your gaze and the tears he'd been trying to keep back burst forth like a dam had broken.

you used your grip on his hand to pull him into your arms, his head tumbling into your chest. "my beautiful pet.. you are the most precious thing i own. your taste is better than even the highest quality human farm. your warmth sparks inside of me the last vestiges of humanity. your voice is like a sweet melody that I need to play at all times."

his hand had let go of your own to instead claw at your back while he sobbed. you held him just tight enough you wouldn't hurt him, one hand petting his hair so softly while the other was around his waist. you pressed a tender kiss into his hair.

"it hurts to know that you'll never be able to accept how much you mean to me. how i would do anything if for a moment you could feel how deeply you're loved." you heard his voice crack into louder sobbing as he wailed into your chest.

"my beautiful pet." you kissed his head again.

you two sat like that for so long you assumed the day had creeped into the evening already. your sweet pet had cried until he couldn't anymore, his tears dry on his cheeks and his voice so raw and hoarse it'd be a wonder if he could talk tomorrow. you moved him to sit in your lap like you usually did to feed on him, your hand rubbing soothing circles into his back. his head had fallen to rest on your shoulder and his eyes were trying to fight back sleep with languid blinks.

"silvan, dear, I'm sorry to ask this of you." you could feel a familiar blood thirst trying to tug at your mind.

he lazily lifted his head to look at you, his olive eyes were empty with dark bags under them. "master?"

"i know you're so tired, my beloved. if you want to say no you can, you won't get in trouble. but could I drink from you?" you felt bad when you saw him struggling to understand what you were asking for a moment. you moved your hand up his back to slide a finger up under his ribbon and press right against his pulse.

his eyes finally registered what you wanted and he nodded lazily. "pleash-"

you gently undid the ribbon exposing his scarred neck to you. you ran your finger along one of the old fang marks enjoying the way he gave you a delayed shiver. you retied his ribbon around his eyes earning a soft moan from him.

"i love you, pet. now rest.. I'll drain all the pain from you."

[evan-collins90]

McDonald's Embarcadero Center (1975) - designed by the firm, Environmental Planning & Research

"The recently opened McDonald's in San Francisco's Embarcadero Center is a complete departure from the usual gold-arches-suburban-drive-in image usually associated with one of America's most popular chains of fast-food restaurants.

Although the design solution provides an entirely new look for the restaurant, it still meets McDonald's specified requirements of non-movable furnishings, fast turnover, flexible seating patterns and pre-established seating/circulation/equipment relationships. In addition, it stayed within the given budget and was completed at a cost of $22.00 a square foot, excluding kitchen.

A total environment was created using specially treated elm wood in a single color tone for walls, floor, ceiling and seating benches. Color accents come from green plants and burnt orange table tops.

Seating for 155 is provided by free-standing benches or wall banquettes which run continuously around the dining area forming seating clusters to accommodate from one to ten people. Tables rest on floor-attached pedestals, and the benches have fully tiled bases making floor maintenance easier. The burnt orange table tops are of a resin material which is heat resistant and easy to clean. To conceal McDonald's standard 24-inch square trash receptacles (18 in all), the designers created architectural forms which also serve as planters.

Of special interest is the ceiling and lighting treatment which is an integral part of the overall design and reflects the restaurant's seating patterns. It also provides variations in light levels; helps absorb sound; and houses heavy mechanical equipment."

Scanned from the Sept. 1975 issue of Interior Design Magazine

[msmiseryxoxo]

he holds me in his arms, it’s no good

rick grimes x fem!reader

🎧 American Tradition- Nicole Dollanganger

Rick Grimes takes you in after the fall of Woodbury. Having lost everyone, you form a special relationship with the man. After the virus shakes the group, The governor comes back with a vengeance. You flee with Rick. As you get closer with him, you want him to see your relationship very differently.

4.7k (sorry)

Disclaimer and A/N- Some canon divergence. carl is fine but let’s just say he is with michonne until they reconnect. Judith is fine too. A bit of angst. This idea came to me in a dream!!! Not proofread

CW and Tags- Angst, age gap ( reader is in her early 20s) unprotected p in v, fingering, Loss of virginity, a lot of intimacy,, protective soft rick who is a bit reluctant,loss of loved ones ( mentioned) trauma bonding, cute nicknames,can’t think of any more lol

It’s a cool Georgia morning. The stomp of Rick’s boots makes the leaves sound extra crunchy. Cicadas hidden in the trees chirp as the two of you scavenge for shelter. It’s been 3 days since the destruction of the prison. As you and Rick walk along a highway, your hands interlock your hand in his hand.

As far as being in the apocalypse goes, you’ve had it pretty easy. You’ve always had somewhere to go, and people to rely on. You were in college when everything started, states away from your family. You’ll realize early on that you’d never see them again, and disturbingly, you tried to forget them altogether. This path of thinking was clearly unhealthy, you knew, but this entire situation was dysfunctional and not ideal, to say the very least.

You were at Woodbury for a while. You were eternally glad and gracious, because you knew if you went out into the outside world, you would die immediately. You couldn’t shoot a gun, the thought of running made you ill. After the fall of Woodbury, Rick Grimes and his group in the prison took you in. As you always fit a domestic role, Hershel taught you to plant and raise pigs. You would spend your early mornings and afternoons tending to the pigs, and hanging out with Rick.

The two of you would talk about mundane things, the movies you used to like, the weather, and how fast the pigs were growing. You saw the glimpses of his troubled nature here and there, but he was really trying. That's all he could do, was try. He put in effort to be a good father to Carl and Judith.

On one particularly hot night, the two of you bare your soul to one another. You were feeling particularly sad because it was a hot and humid afternoon, you were sticky all over and covered in bug bites. It was late summer, the time of year when the outbreak had started. While digging a hole to plot a new plant, heavy glops of tears ran down your face, and small sniffles were let out. You had your face in your hands, as tears fell into the planter. Rick has been watering the plants, whistling. Rustling around, he didn’t notice your soft cries, at first. And when he did, he immediately dropped the watering tin and jogged to you.

Hey, hey what’s going on? what happened, you alright sweetheart?” He showed great concern in the tone of his voice, looking tentatively into your eyes, as you tried to wipe your tears away with your sleeve. Pulling you in for a hug, you’re hit with his dusty musk, his scent grounding you, calming your nerves. You shiver under him as he holds your head in his forearms and hands.

“ I don know if it's any consolation, but m always he’re for you.” He says ever so softly. He places his lips, softly, on the top of your head.

You manage to let out a hushed “ thank you” into his shoulder.

He whispers an “ anytime” while still holding you. It's more intimate than anything you've ever done. His forearms, muscular and defined, entangle you lightly. An unspoken bond was formed, and your understanding of each other was taken to a new level. You continue to sniffle into his linen-lined shoulder.

You two were like that for a while. Touch had begun to be a rare commodity in the end times so you cherished it with every moment you had. A simple high five had left your hand with a stinging aftershock.

The air around you two shifted, and you began to see him differently. He obviously caught your eye even before you said one word to him, but the feeling was starting to be mutual.

Rick was at war with himself. His wife had just passed, he had a baby daughter to look out for and this wasn’t necessarily the time for a crush on a girl decades younger than him. But he couldn’t deny how you made him laugh at the silliest things, and how you scared the devil out of him when you clumsily fell or scraped your knee. You simultaneously make him anxious, and tranquil. The very sight of you gives him relief, makes him forget his situation.

The two of you sit down on the grass. He grasps your hand as you spill out what's wrong.

“ Uhh. I dunno. Guess I've just been feeling weird lately. The weather makes me feel sad. Reminds me when it first happened. Last time I spoke with any of my family members it was months before the outbreak. I never kept in contact. I really regret that, should have.” Your voice steady now that you feel a breeze coming in. You pull out patches of grass in pinches.

“ ts alright. I got in a fight with Lori, that was the last time I saw her until I woke up from my coma” He explains and smiles, looking ahead at the prison, the rays of red sunlight illuminating his face. You swear he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, comparative to a painting.

You never wanted to ask him about her, you’ve only heard whispers of the man’s wife. You didn’t want to think about that, and you didn’t want to think about Rick thinking about her.

He gets up and offers his hand. “C'mon, lets go wash up” As he walks you to the prison, you rest your head on his shoulder.

That was a few weeks before the virus. It was hard to be in the dark if any of the people you began to bond with were alive, close to dying, or not.

Then the governor came back. Gunshots rang around the prison. Your shoulders hung up with fear as Rick approaches the governor's army. Hershel is killed. You grab a gun and shoot whoever is charging at you. Rick catches you and yells for you to run. A blur you could hardly remember. Flashes of quick movements feel like forever, until Rick grabs your hand.

The two of you escape through a fence, as Rick watches Carl run with Michonne.

Rick couldn’t think of anything right now, except for protecting you. He knew Michonne and Carl would be safe with one another, all he needed to pay attention to was you. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight.

Traveling for days on end without a sign of a safe shelter began to take a toll on both of you, especially Rick. He didn’t know when he would see his son or his newborn daughter. He still had to bring you to safety, figure out the next course of action.

The only thing he had to calm the storm was you. He was glad that it was you that he ran with. Your protection and safety were the thing driving him, he needed you just as much as you needed him. To pass the time, the two of you would whistle and hum and sing your favorite songs. You’d began to sing “Take Me Home, Country Roads” while practically skipping.

“Hey slow down, kid, can’t keep up with ya” He chuckles while jokingly warning you.

“I'll stop if you sing with me” you giggle, as you find solace in constant moments of distress.

His eyebrows furrow and he scoffs. He starts singing, horribly so, to get you to stop skipping.

A peace of mind was needed. You come across the library hidden in the trees near a country club. Rick looks at you spotting it, as you try not to mention it. You know it’s probably run with walkers, and it’s not a good idea to go.

“Let’s check this out. We won’t be long but maybe they have a couple things” He sternly points out. “That okay with you?” his drawl comes out a bit at the end of the question. You give him a slight smile and a nod.

“Good” He takes your hand and as a force of habit, you look both ways while crossing the street.

“You don’t have to do that, you know that doll?” He giggles. The two of you giggle too much in the apocalypse.

“ I know but I kinda want to,” you explain to him.

He looks down at you and softly whispers, “You’re like sunshine,” You can barely hear what he says, but based on the stoic expression on his face, you probably shouldn’t ask him to repeat.

The two of you stroll to the library while Rick checks for walkers. You’ve only ever killed a handful, but you know you needed to be useful so you had your hand on your knife holster.

He holds the door open for you and gives you the all-clear. With a gun in his hand, he scans the place for walkers, listening for any low groans. He puts his gun back when he doesn’t see any. A hand caresses your back as he motions for you to go ahead.

You wander the adult fiction section of the library. The books on the shelf are collecting dust, which makes you quite sad. You browse the A section and come across Sense and Sensibility, one of your favorites. Rick comes up behind you.

“ Hey, can I take this?” You look up at him.

“ Yeah, of course, take whatever you want sweetheart” He whispers. You swoon at the use of his pet name and get embarrassed at yourself for it. It’s horrible that you smile at every interaction you have with him, but you know he doesn’t think of you like that. It would be silly to think otherwise. You shove your feelings down and feel something turn in your gut.

He walks over to the T section and grabs a copy of The Hobbit.

You scan the employee break room find gauze in a first aid kit and decide to put it in your backpack.

“Alright, let’s get outta here. I think I see a neighborhood some way” He says again in a low tone.

You tiptop in front of him as he moves his gun around looking for walkers while exiting. You walk in each other's silence while on your journey to a simple house without any walkers nearby. He offers you some peanuts out of a pack he found in the library. You take them.

You and Rick settle in. It’s homey and has no residents, so it’s absolutely perfect. You take your boots off to make minimal noise, as you roam and try not to make creaks on the wooden floor.

“Be careful, yeah?” Rick settles on the couch, body spread out, stifling a groan. The image of him laid out like that is almost pornographic. He licks his lips, his shirt is lifted up a bit and you can see his defined biceps, hands on top of his head, his stomach peaking out. You close your eyes for a second and imagine yourself sitting at his feet, hands on his thigh while he pets your head. You shake the image immediately and roam upstairs.

All of the bedrooms are intact. You walk into what seems like the primary bedroom. You descend down the stairs to alert Rick and give him the all-clear. He is peacefully asleep and silent. You walk over to him and grab his jacket. A hand plays with his hair softly, as you admire his sheer beauty. The shape of his nose, his pale piercing eyes, and his dark coiled hair.

You settle down on a rickety old chair, watching over him as he rests, draping his jacket over you like a warm blanket. All you can think about is how grateful you are to have Rick here. It truly was the best-case scenario, him with you. You watch him sleep peacefully as you beam at the image of Rick finally resting.

While fast asleep, Rick could feel your eyes on him and moves his mouth in a slight twitch. The only reason that he’s able to close his eyes is because you’re there. His little angel. You read your book as the light peaking through the window begins to dwindle, and the air gets cooler. He wakes up after a couple of pages. He sluggishly gets up and gives you a sleepy smile with half-shut eyes. You offer him water you filtered while camping out in the forest. He thanks you for the water while guzzling it down, water dripping down his chin, he wipes it all over. You tell him that you saw some board game upstairs in the main bedroom. He follows you up.

The both of you settle on the bed, sitting up. He can’t stop staring at you, like he’s about to devour you. You walk over to a small bookshelf holding Connect Four, monopoly, and a deck of playing cards.

“What do you want to play?” You ask considerately.

“Uh… your pick” He runs his hands over his hair.

You take out the deck of cards, looking at it tentatively.

“Ya know I've never played any card games”

He clears his throat and responds. “Really, well we’ll start real simple. Uh, let’s play War. It’s easy, you’re a smart girl so you’ll catch on quick,” he chuckles.

You’re on the edge of the bed near the bed frame, you take the deck out of its case. He leans in closer to you as you inhale his musk. You hand him the cards as your eyes linger on his hands.

“ Alright so here’s what we do. So basically,” You do not pay attention to what he’s saying. A nod is given, you say that you get it and you’re ready to play. To be quite honest, you don’t care about the game. All you really want is to pounce on him.

Surprisingly, Rick catches on. He sighs, “We don’t have to play if you don’t want to. Looks like you clocked out” He gives you a slight smile.

“Nah, I want to but I got something on my mind, it’s really nothing,” Your gaze shifts to the wooden floor.

“Well spill, this a good time as any,” Southern definitely drawn.

“ Well, when we were in the prison, before the virus, before the governor, that stretch of time where everything was fine and felt like normal?” He nods along. “ I used to crush on this guy. It was pretty bad, I knew he didn’t like me like that. But god, he was enigmatic. He was so dignified yet so sweet and caring.” You’re overwhelmed. And a liar.

“Anyway, I shouldn’t be thinking about him in that way. Wrong guy, wrong time to feel that way about anyone.” You sniffle.

Rick is absolutely clueless. You could tell he was trying to list off all the boys that were around your age.

“ I’m sorry to hear that. He was so stupid to not return those feelings. You’re such a sweet girl. A girl like you deserves the goddamn world. I know it might just be the two of us for a while, but I want to give you that world. It’s you and me ok?” At first, he’s angry at you, it’s irrational he knows. The only man he wants you to think about is him. Then a wave of protectiveness crashes over him. Your eyes begin to sting as his words hit harder. Tears stream out and roll down your cheek, as you let out soft hiccups. His arms grip you so tightly, it seems he might never let go. His warmth spreads all through your body like white hot fire.

“ I never ever want to see you cry like this. It hurts me to see you like this. My heart shatters to pieces when I see you sad, sweetheart.” He pulls away and looks into your eyes while he lectures you. He gently strokes your cheek and wipes your tears away. Your heart rate slows down and you’re grounded. He holds you again, his touch seeming to be familiar now. He’s held you like this before but it’s home now. A deep, disgusting feeling of guilt hits, you despise yourself for lying to him.

“ I have to say something else Rick,” A low whisper.

“Say it then, doll” He whispers back, as you brace yourself.

“Rick. I like you. Not like a friend, not like a daughter. I don’t want you to see me that way. I want to be close to you all of the time, I get weird when I'm not near you. I need you, Rick. But not like that.” your fingers tussle with his belt loops as your eyes wander around the room, down at boots, unable to meet his eyes.

Rick took a second to respond. Inching back, He sighs and runs his hand through his dark curls, conflicted. He pats his thigh, not knowing where to go next. Finally, he replies.

“oh yeah, and how do you like me?” He gazes into your eyes, maintains eye contact while you want to make yourself smaller.

Words can’t seem to come out of your mouth, as all

you can manage to spit out is a “ I.. I..”Rick inches closer to you and begins gently grabbing your arm and placing pecks along your collarbone.

In between kisses, he asks, “is this how you like me sweet girl? Ya need me like this?” he holds your jaw, while he gnaws softly on your lips. you coo out “Oh oh ohs” Hands move up and down your stomach as he grabs your waist.

Your kisses are sloppy and glossy, as he practically inhales you.

“You like me like this huh?” He sets you on your back as he towers on top of you. His knees entangled with your legs, you moan as he keeps kissing your neck. The scruff of his stubble nuzzle into the softness of your neck.

“Baby, I need to ask if you want this, tell me to stop and I'll stop.” He gazed at you for an immediate answer. Of course you want to, you’re hesitant to respond.

“ I-I want to, but i should probably let you know i ain’t never done this before,” You say softly. It’s all new to you. Of course things have happened in college but you’ve never gone that far before.

Rick stops in his tracks. His dick is hard and pressing against your clothed sex. He can’t say no to that shine in your eyes, and the way you clutch onto his arms.

“uhh, alright. I’m gonna take it real nice and slow sweetheart, ok? that alright with you?” He asks with his accent accelerating with the question.

“Okay Rick,” You nod, with a slight expression of worry on your face.

“I’ll make it good for you, don’t worry baby,” He reassures you and seals it by running his calasse-ridden hands down your body then clutches your hand, fingers entangling.

“I trust you.” A shimmer in your eyes.

He descends down the bed, eye level with your pussy, pulling down your shorts, leaving you half naked in your underwear, a wet patch forming. His eyes wide in utter awe, mouth agape at the dark spot at the middle of your panties. He massages your clothed cunt, rubbing in circles to see how you’d react. Quiet, mousy gasps escape your lips.

“Can I take these off sweetpea?” He purrs in a low voice, like honey.

“Of course.” You respond in an eager whisper. He pulls down your underwear and flings them across the room. The two of you smile at this action, your cheeks turning warm from embarrassment, as you hide your face from your hands.

“ Is that all for me?” He strokes your thigh and you nod your head, all doe eyed.He parts your legs open, his hands move up toward the entrance of your sex. A vulnerable feeling creeps up as the hair on your limbs stand up.

“Imma make it even better,yeah sweet girl?” He nibbles at the inside of your thighs.

Arousal settles in the low part of your stomach as he fiddles with the entrance of your pussy. He is excruciatingly slow, building tension.

He palms your exposed sex with his big hand. The cold metal of his wedding ring around his finger is cold against your wet warmth. You don’t think about that, as all you can focus on is the sound of his guttural grunts and shock at your perfect pussy. His pointer and middle finger move in circles around your clit, not entering you just yet. You moan as he slips his ring finger into your plush entrance. You let out a cry as his finger plunges in and out. The sensation of his silver ring against your hot sex adds to the stars you see. He looks to you, wide-eyed, asking for confirmation to add another finger. You nod.

He adds another finger, stretching you out slowly. Sounds of your wet squelch fill the room, along with small squeals and low whispers of “good god” coming from Rick. He didn’t think he could ever make a girl this wet until now.

“You take my fingers so well, baby.” Arousal coils in your core. Your heart pounds as your head feels hazy. He curls his fingers toward your sweet spot, as a scorching sensation of hot waves come over you. His fingers feel your pussy pulse, as the intensity of stimulation increases. Your legs jerk, slightly as you give into pleasure. “Rick, ’m coming.” You breathlessly sob out. A wave of electricity crashes over you, you’ve never came that hard before.

“That’s it, sweet girl, you can come.” He growls. Simultaneously, as he fucks you with his fingers, he brushes his lips up and down your stomach. He finally takes his fingers out of you. The tent in his pants is firm against your pussy. Sweat sticks to your neck and collarbone, as he grabs your chin and kisses you like an old vintage movie. Your eyes closed, arms desperately holding onto his shoulders for dear life. Deep, wet, kisses, lips barely touching, slight brisks of your soft lips against his. Your face is hot as his erection presses deeper against you. A damp patch soaks through his jeans. You slightly grind yourself against his knee, without shame.

“ We can stop here, we don’t have to go all the way,” Rick reassures, with a slight breathless rasp.

“No, no, we can keep going. I want to keep going.” You desperately plead for him not to stop there, in a soft sweet voice.

“Ok. we’re doing this. remember, tell me to stop and I will.” He sternly asserted. He fumbles at his belt, a bit desperate to take it off. The clink and thud of his buckle hardens your nipples and pools arousal in you. You don’t realize that you bit your lip until you taste metallic on your tongue.

He pulls his boots off, along with the rest of his clothing. He gestures to help you pull your shirt up, and you let him.

His cock springs out of his boxers, all pretty and pink, hitting against the low part of his stomach. His length leaks out precum at the tip. He’s pretty well-kept, considering the situation at hand. You bask in the sight of him, his curly pubic hair wild at the base near his heavy balls.

You stare in awe at how gorgeous he is. His beautiful entrancing eyes so pale and blue, his luscious curly hair, his defined arms. You smile up at him and he laughs. You would do anything for him. You would kiss the tip of his boots if he asked, and that’s the problem. Rick lingers on your lips, brushing his fingers against them. He spits on his hand and rubs his length, he does with what he has.

“Gonna be a big stretch, ok baby?” He lines his tip at your entrance. “Alright, here we go.” He slowly stretches you with his thick length, your pussy swallowing him whole. He hisses a groan.

“ Oh God!” You mewled.

“ Ahh fuck baby, you’re so goddamn tight. Gotta pace ourselves.” He mostly says that to remind himself to take it slow, the last thing he does is want to hurt you. It’s a bit uncomfortable at first, you’ve been told, and of course maybe it’s a little unpleasant, but Rick's touch and the earthy scent of him is intoxicating. You feel full, like you were each other’s missing piece to the puzzle.

He isn’t even halfway in, and you’re doubting your own ability to take all of it. He cradles your head, his fingers sprawled over the side of your face.

“Mmm, so feels full” You sob out.

“ I know honey, I know.” He coos at you. He starts thrusting in and out at a slow pace as you acclimate to this full feeling. You're so wet, your pussy resists and almost pushes him out, but he’s so huge and you're so tight, his cock is almost stuck. Lewd sounds of him pounding sweet juices leaking out of you.

Your fingers clutch the bedding, your hot all over.

“ Feels so good baby, God this pussy is gonna drive me crazy.” His voice sweet and heavy like honey.

“mmhmm” You’re already quite fucked out, and you can’t seem to think about anything but him. Him, him, him. You buck, signaling for him to go deeper.

His strokes get sloppier as he moans into your ear. He mumbles low “I love you I love yous” continuously as he kisses you all over your cheek. His calm, daddy demeanor unravels as your walls continue to spasm and flutter against his cock.

In the heat of the moment, you aren’t totally sure if he really means it. The two of you have shown affection, the evidence supports what he says.

“You really mean it? You love me?” You whimper, gazing straight into his eyes. His tip kisses your cervix, but you feel nothing but utter bliss.

“ More than fucking anything.” He enunciates each world with a thrust. He’s close, you could feel it in his rapid strokes and in the way his arms hold onto you for sweet release.

“Rick I’m so close please” You plead for him to go deeper, faster.

“I know honey, I feel it.” He says through gritted teeth, pumping in and out of you. He gently rubs the sides of your lower belly, as he drills into you, the both of you feel crashs of euphoria.

“Cum on my cock, that’s it baby ,” Rick groans out, as your pussy convulses against him. His cock stays in as you feel him twitch around you, he leaves a lingering kiss on your forehead.

He pulls out, asking you if you want it on your stomach. You nod as you look through your eyelashes. He’s on his knees now, jerking his cock, cum spurting out on your stomach, He closes his eyes and groans out. He moves off the bed and grabs a shirt folded onto a chair, wiping his release off of your stomach.

He jumps back on to bed next to you, as you bask in each others presence, bed creaking in response. He looks to you, almost studying the structure of your face. You turn to him, running your hands through his hair.

“ Thank you. for, well, doing that. I liked it a lot.” You giggle. He giggles in response, rubbing his temples.

“Any time. Well maybe not, but we should do this again.” He gazes at you and smirks . Still half naked, he opens his mouth to say something, he hesitates.

“ Ya know what I said, I mean it. I meant it when you came crying to me. I love you and I need you. I know you think you can’t live without me, but I can’t live without you. can’t imagine it sweetheart.” The scruff of his beard scratches your chin as he pulls you in for a soft kiss. You curl up against his chest, breathing in his musk. You drift off into his the tight hold of his arms, feeling as if he’ll never let go, and you’re ok with that.

ty for reading!! not stoked about how this turned about but wtv

dont ask me how long this was in the drafts for….

[jonsrightrib]

I just like to think about Caleb, in the future, living in a little townhouse in Rexentrum. Full of arcane trinkets, and spell components and the jacket Beau forgot when she came round for dinner. Walls plastered with Jester and Luc’s drawings, cat beds everywhere, traditional heavy Zemnian blankets from Astrid and spiralling crochet throws clearly from Xhorhas and cushions Kingsley found amusing in various markets on a squidgy leather sofa and mismatched armchairs. An extension into the garden with a little classroom in it, papers never quite contained to a study full of books and a coat rack in the hallway that’s constantly in use. A hundred different teas in the cupboard and recipes scribbled in different hands on the backs of all different stained pages. The little garden with planters of veg and pots of herbs and a sun-bleached wooden bench and forget-me-nots growing along the fence. A spare room that’s never vacant long enough to gather dust. Marks in the floor from Fjord repeatedly forgetting he wasn’t on a ship and the vase Yasha is always refilling. Thank you cards and gifts from students - carved cat figurines and mugs and silly little jokes. A feather of Kiri’s on a beaded chain she made. Books and books and books, bought by himself and others on every topic under the sun.

A house where he can finally be surrounded by and reminded of all the lives Caleb touched.

[evergreenlake]

And Fate was on His Side

Chapter 2

1.5k words

tw: violence, fighting, wounds, and maybe military inaccuracies (let me know if i miss any)

Price x F!Reader, Secret Baby Trope

an: As I said before the first chapter some characters may be ooc. Also, I'm not sure how to write the British dialect, so for now, dialogue will seem a little weird. I will be coming back to edit it when I do figure it out. One last thing, if I forgot to add you to the taglist just leave a comment and let me know. Sorry in advance if I did!

series masterlist

previous chapter next chapter

All she could hear was the heavy breathing coming from her. She looked towards her son as he was repeating something over and over again. She couldn't read his lips well so she had no idea what it was. But the woman did watch him as he started to put pressure on her shoulder, on the very edge of her collarbone.

Watching him lean to the side to talk to his twin, who was beside her, the woman let her head fall back against the counter they were hiding behind. As she looked up at the ceiling, her hearing slowly returned.

" We gotta get outta here Danny, we don't know how long we will be stuck here!" Mia had whispered yelled at her brother. Danny sighs and looks at her slightly. " There isn't anywhere else to go Mia, plus Mom is already hurt. We gotta stay here til help comes, just have to slow down the bleeding." Danny furrows his eyebrows as he looks up at his mother, and then he looks at Mia. " Try to keep her awake and aware.. just in case we get a chance to leave." Mia nodded and she sat up and started rambling to her mother about something that happened at school that day. The twins shared a look, determined to keep their mother safe.

Stepping out of the truck, the men started to march towards the mall. The one with the bucket hat could hear Laswell talking in his ear. " It looks like they are targeting a few stores on the left side of the mall. You all need to head that way, we will have some of the others head towards the right side to help people evacuate." Price looks back at the three men behind him and he nods. " You heard the woman, let's get in and take these arseholes out."

The three men just nodded as they were all focused on getting the people stuck on the left side of the mall out to safety. They swiftly made their way inside, walking with determination. Seeming a little relaxed they kept an eye out while surveying the mall before heading to the left side of the mall. As the men got closer they all lifted their guns getting ready. As they got closer to the store with the family of three inside, they could see a group of five men outside of it.

Before they got too close they all hid behind some kiosk. Price and Gaz were in the one closest to the terrorist, while the other two were behind the one behind them. Price looks back at his men, he nods his head slightly before he leans around the kiosk. He takes a deep breath as he lines up his shot. Then…..BOOM… The team of men started to shoot at the small group in front of the store. Three of them were hit as the other two dived to hide behind a large planter across from the kiosk.

From inside the shop, both of the teams heard screams, they came from the people in the back. But it also came from Mia behind the counter. Daniel looks towards his mother and sister worried. He slowly stood up a little to see what was happening outside of the shop. However, all he could see was the 141 in a gunfight with two of the guys who attacked them.

The boy quickly sat back down as he looked towards his mother and sister. "There are people outside, they are fighting the guys who were camping the store." Y/n turns her head to look at Daniel. " Stay down til we don't hear any more guns, it is still not safe enough." She reached over and grabbed onto his arm as Mia kept her hands against her mother's wound. She watches her a little worriedly before glancing at Daniel. He looked between the two females before he slowly nodded.

"Don't worry Mom, I'll stay down here with you and Mia." He gave her a small smile before he sat a little closer to her. Y/n started to smile a little more as she leaned over and let her head rest on him. The twins glance towards each other a little worried but they sit a little closer to their mother. Neither of them mentioned the blood that was slowly seeping through the shoulder of her sweater.

Outside of the store, the gunfight was still going on, though there was only one terrorist left. Simon ends up shooting the man between the eyes. Price lifts his head and slowly scans the area to make sure there aren't any others hiding. Once he gives his men a signal all four of them are standing up and making their way into the store.

All four men became alert tho as Daniel quickly stood up from behind the counter and looked at them wide-eyed. " Y'all are good guys, right? Cause my mom needs help, she was shot." As Simon and Soap got a good look at the boy they had side eyed each other, both of them having the same thought. That boy looks like a young Price. The two men in front of them tho don't notice as they hurry behind the counter.

Gaz quickly kneeled beside the woman as she watched him nervously. Mia slowly backed away while watching the strange man assess her mother a little. Behind the teenage girl tho, Price was frozen. This was the woman of his dreams, the one he thought had gotten away. Tho she looked a little older, but to him, she was still beautiful. Simon called his name as Soap called Laswell, hurriedly saying that they needed a medic, and it snapped Price out of it.

The man in the bucket hat had glanced toward his teammate before he was quickly kneeling before the woman. He just watched Gaz question her before he started to put pressure on her shoulder. She looked like she was kind of out of it, but as she slowly turned towards Price her breath had caught in her throat. He gave her a small smile as she grabbed onto his arm. The group standing around them looked a little confused, especially when she started tearing up.

Shouting could be heard outside of the shop getting closer, Soap had left the group to lead them inside the shop. Back with the group Mia was watching her mother and this strange man closely. Price slowly pushes some of her hair out of her face. "Didn' think we would be seeing each other again like this." He let out a small laugh as he was trying to ease some tension as the woman cleared her throat a little. " I didn't think I would see you again, especially in the States.." She suddenly took in a deep breath as the medics rounded the counter.

The group stepped back as they started to check over the woman. The twins were holding each other as they watched them with their mom closely. Price was doing the same thing as Gaz stepped back to the teens, he cleared his throat a little. " Is this your Mom?" The twins quickly nodded, and he nodded back before he stepped up to a medic who was stepping to the side. " I hope the lot of you has enough room for her twins because I don't think they'll let their mother leave."

The medic nodded a little as she looked back at the twins. "Don't worry there will be enough room, there's multiple vehicles here." She turns away as the rest of her group lifts y/n onto the gurney. They made sure everything was ready before glancing back at the twins. " Hope you all are ready, let's go!" As the group started to make their way out of the shop. Price got a good look at the twins, his brow furrowed as he looked at Daniel. He thought he looked very familiar but couldn't figure out why.

Shaking that from his thoughts he turns back to his team. "You lot stay here I'll walk them out." He grabbed his gun and was jogging after the group that just left. The three men that were left there all looked at each other and nodded after watching all those interactions. They all say simultaneously "Those are his kids"

Price walked kind of close to the side of the gurney, though he was walking behind the twins. Mia was currently holding her mother's hand and telling her what she wanted to do when they got home, the teen was told to help keep her mother awake. As they got closer to the ambulance tho, y/n had looked over at Price. Before the medics could put her in the back of the vehicle, she had reached out and grabbed onto Price's arm. She took a deep breath as she looked up at him teary-eyed.

"Their yours.."

Then as the woman let go and was put into the vehicle, Price stood there frozen. The man watches the ambulance drive away, it clicks as he grabs his hat.

"Fuck!"

Taglist:

@miss-vanta-likes-to-write

@galactict3a

@fruitymoonbeams-blog

@spongelistener

@wizzdot

@beebeechaos

@eatingtheworldsoffanfiction

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

It is immensely difficult to understand just how completely white Southerners wrote off slaves in their political calculations. How, we ask, could they contemplate war without worrying about the possibilities it opened up to four million enslaved people? But so irrelevant were slaves to their thinking that William Yancey, the influential Alabama fire-eater, could recommend secession as a resolution of all the old struggles. It would augur, he said, a future with "no irrepressible conflict and no domestic enemy to incite our vigilance." Black Republicans--that is to say, white Northern men and not slaves--were the domestic enemy Yancey had in mind.

Southerners of all political persuasions worried publicly and to good effect about the way abolitionists incited slaves to violence. One can readily discern the heavy weight of racial thinking about people of African descent. It was hard for white Southerners to think of slaves as "the enemy within." More than thirty years of proslavery training had mostly dissuaded them from that view. But the fear lurked just below the surface, and a benevolent paternalism always confronted a deeper antagonistic view. One can hear their conflicting emotions when white Southerners learned of John Brown's attempt to raise slave support in his raid on Harper's Ferry. One contributor to the Charleston Mercury opened with a brave denial that planters had anything to worry about at all--"they would as soon suspect their children of conspiring against their lives"--but descended quickly into a tortured consideration of circumstances in which slaves might indeed pose a threat. When "constantly tampered with," the writer fretted, faith in the Africans' good nature could prove a flimsy defense. "Our negroes are constantly tempted to cut our throats or pink us" with rifles. It was well to be prepared for the worst. Those "foot peddlers" from New York trolling the neighborhoods could "put the devil in the negros' heads," and could have been down there already "for all we know, arming the troops." The conflicted view of slaves' nature was palpable but controlled. Slaves were said to be, by nature, good, childlike, and loyal servants to their masters; they posed a danger only when white outsiders attempted to "rouse an ignorant people [by appealing] to their superstition and lust." Thus when secession dispensed with the Black Republicans, as Yancey promised, slaves would no longer represent a force of any sort.

[...]

African slaves in New World societies underwent a process of instrumentalization rather than simple suppression or exclusion. White Southerners were so deeply implicated in that process that they had great difficulty shaking an instrumentalist view of African American people even when confronted with evidence to the contrary. Rare, indeed, was the commonsense observation like that of Waltman Willey, a western Virginia Unionist, who, disparaging the secessionists' argument that slavery would be safer out of the Union, asked bluntly what the consequences of destroying the Union would be: "What then. The common national obligation [to return fugitive slaves] is destroyed. Will not the negro find out? The motives to flee across the line would be increased, because he would know that whenever he crosses that line he will be free." What Willey predicted was precisely what most white Southerners denied: that slaves had motives and interests entirely their own, channels of communication that kept them apprised of relevant developments, and allies whose help they knew to seek. It would take Confederates a long time to learn those lessons.

stephanie mccurry, confederate reckoning: power and politics in the civil war south

[moonbeammist]

The Peasant's Secret (Part 1)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

I don't give permission for any of my fanfiction to be posted, this is also cross posted on my account w/ Archive of our own :)

PAIRINGS: Feyd Rautha x Fem!Fighter!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: I drew heavy inspiration from the Dune Part Two Soundtrack, truly sets the mood and tone for the story if you wanna have a listen. I appreciate this community of writers/readers! Any feedback and thoughts are most welcome! The 1st Part serves as Prologue, an introduction to your character and her world. Enjoy 💚

WARNINGS: (Mostly for 2nd Chapter): (Adults only 18+) DARK! profanity, extreme violence, torture, gore, sadism, masochism, dubious consent, erotic undertones, heavy petting, reader is a fighter who get's extremly hurt, bigotry against the poor, very immersive, intimacy, touching, feyd-rautha is his sick self, public humiliation, light smut

SUMMARY: As a rice-harvester hailing from Planet Caladan, you knew these things to be true. You and your people were "peasant scum". And as far as you can tell, peasant scum deserved a shot at the vast unknown as much as any noble folk did. Even if the only thing protecting you is a flawed battle-tactic and the falsehoods that you tell yourself. Even if it has you riding a wave into the wicked evils that lie.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k words

PART 1 PART 2

You were in a colourless oasis. It wasn't really an oasis in the scenery sense; it was an oasis in the sense that it felt like a bottomless void, a strange, deafening dream. It was an oasis because it didn't feel like reality. A desolate vision to where no judging eyes would befall you as you threw your whole self, your body, into its ultimate test. That’s how they all made their mark here, isn’t it?

You reflect on Giedi Prime's obscure, bone-dry alternate reality to your home planet of Caladan - you were of peasant descent in the lush, grassy, biodiverse settlements. You and your mother had strengths in labour as rice planters, trading their services to the wealthy nobles in exchange for military protection. A life of labour and sweat in the rice fields, the economy depended on their work, as such, they had little free time.

Stepping foot into the outdoors, the crunch of your cheaply-made, scraggly brown boots is heard as you line up with the rest of the prisoners. The earth smelled of crust, rot, and blood. You somewhat know where you're supposed to end up as Harkonnen soldiers round you up, but at the same time, you haven’t got a clue where you’ll be settling before battle. Wide, dark tunnels arch over the sand like a protective roof against the beating black sun.  You've been given the finest privilege to represent your low-status family members in a brutal and bloody ceremony where this pale, ghostly Harkonnen House cuts you down, down into the dirt. A death deemed worthy. 

A death is worthy when you die with passion because you’re trying - kicking and screaming. It's a beautiful way to go because you feel everything.

The height of your human complexities is shown at the forefront - pushing yourself, testing yourself.. You who initially thought fighting was for those who have a reason to fight, like for political gain and power, defending your home and planets among the stars. However, you have never felt so alive, representing the absolute bottom of the barrel. What joy it would be to see an enemy fall from not hand-to-hand combat, not brute force, but peasant trickery. 

This is worth something.

That’s what you tell yourself. What else can you cling to? You were living for the cultivation of rice before you came here.

Horns erupt in a deep, haunting bass. The ground is shaking. Shaking with such strength that your feet stumble forward, knees scraping the grainy, white sand. Your hands bite into the sand. A guttural song emits from the speakers suddenly, the force of it hitting your chest like a bang. Your body stutters.

Your fellow no-name fighters eyes snap at your movements. Hushed chuckles erupt over the heavy bass. You feel slightly embarrassed as you quickly stumble back up and rub the grainy sand away from your knees and palms. Your eyes narrow.

This is all of your first times, all of your fellow fighters' first essential phases into proving yourself worthy to Harkonnens. Granted, you were vermin first, something to gawk at, something like cattle. As far as you heard from your briefing on the way here, this whole spectacle was based on a test round. If you pass your initial testing round, then - maybe, just maybe, you can live in comfort. There was not much more elaboration than that. Either get cut down, sliced down, gutted down -  or prosper. So why do you feel like you're the only one on edge? You’re in your head too much.

Because I might fucking die.

You swallow that thought down, burying it deep in your stomach, where it should stay.

Underneath the arena, there is a place where the Harkonnen soldiers stop - a small, enclosed burrow tucked away from sight, away from the audience members that fill the seats of the large dome-like sphere of the arena. Through the dark, enclosed area you can make out the bleached atmosphere stretched and rounded out, seeing several egg-like craniums darting up and down in the stands. Their eyes were like inky, beady pools of onyx - almost insect-like. They were thrashing in excitement, the low murmur of chatter and whooping heard.

You look around to your peers. There is nothing really notable about any of you. Dressed in meek wool, burlap, or loin cloth. Prepped with various weapon satchels latched onto waists or knees. You have no advanced shields or armour, that is true. As suicidal as that may seem against these elite brutes, It’s what you represent that really matters. The peasant trickery you have up your sleeve.

You were an only child born to common people. In the small moments, you would take to the hills with your mother and run and play. Your mother's long, flowing hair would crack like a whip against the wind behind her, in a game of “cat and mouse," as she would call it. You would try to grasp at the ends of her hair - your mother's high, sing-songy laughter echoing in the distance as you chased her.

You did not know your father - just that he was a passing tradesman who fell in love with your mother’s quirks and tenacity for adventure; in the odd breaks she could have them between planting rice grain. They spent 6 months together, you heard, and it was passionate. But he could not stay on this planet.

Your mother did not know if he was alive. But despite him leaving, she spoke fondly of him.  “He defied appearances. They thought of him as a simple, dull man in the trades, a grunt. But his intellect was his greatest secret.”

You supposed that maybe you were that small reminder of him to her, as her description of your father shadowed your mother’s slow moulding of your personality over the years. A weak, feeble rice labourer by appearances, always dressed in brown, murky colours to disappear. She did not want anyone to notice you at first glance; let that be your first safety. If they must stumble on you or pester your forgettable existence, you must keep up the act at first glance. You were scared, you were begging for your life like a common peasant. If they continue to prod and seek to damage or harm you, they would pry open the bottle of secrets that came spilling out of you in this fight-or-flight scenario.

You had a lot to learn and a lot to process as Caladan civilians. The threat of Caladan’s as well as other planets' potential hostile nature was something you were keenly aware of, a foot on your back of sorts, as you couldn’t do anything formidle to stop an enemy. 

The peasants, not permitted to use weapons or obtain shields or anything of the sort, could only offer you certain wisdom that was passed among the peoples. One they passed to your mother’s watchful eye and then onto you. They call it the peasant’s secret.

The art of dodging.

“Remember the game of cat and mouse?” You remember your mother’s voice barely over a whisper as she lay beside you one night in woolly sleeping bags on the soft greenery beneath you. The weather was hot enough to enjoy a night outside.  The flow of the river’s stream is heard against her.

You haven’t used the peasant’s secret in awhile. You primarily used it against your mother and your fellow people, as they would take turns throwing you into mock battles. They didn’t have any weapons, but they did collide, push, and throw themselves into your body at full speed, so you had to react quickly. 

They did push you to the limit. Bless them. Until you were an exhausted heap of limbs on the ground and had the wind knocked out of you.

You knew that wasn’t as valuable as practicing it against someone who genuinely wanted to kill you. You didn’t know if the peasant’s secret had successfully saved someone’s life against a brutal attack or if it was just used as a quick get-away.

So yes, you could fall into the trap of thinking you knew what you were doing when, in reality, it was based on instinct. Of course, the arena was a circle. A never-ending loop. Eventually, even though your stamina was now crafted to be well above average, you would eventually get tired. The peasant community of Caladan had a careful, pinpoint focus on the art of dodging rather than hand-to-hand combat or brute force, which made for a very interesting opponent, if you could even call it that. Most of the time, if you could, you were told to outrun them first. So your speed heavily improved. If they were just as fast, then you could begin your dance.

Now, you could finally put it to the test. To see how you fare, to see if it could actually prevent you from getting sliced and diced by the Harkonnens in the arena—albeit for a while. The main thing to keep in mind, as your mother had warned, was to keep your opponent on their toes, snapping not only their mental state but their body. Then, when the time is right, you steal their weapon and use it against them. Today you were permitted a small dagger, strapped and holstered on the outside of your thigh. Although you weren’t concerned about it, you told yourself you would use it as a last resort when they weren’t suspecting you to. You didn’t know how to dance with a weapon; you only knew how to bob and weave without one.

Count Fenring, the Siridar-Absentia of your homeworld Caladan, while the Atreides occupy the planet Arrakis, had dealings with the Harkonnens prior to your descent here. You were never meant to come here. But Count Fenring had called upon the rice labourers one day for a strange proposal. Gathering in the high-esteemed buildings and feeling out of place, your people had looked upon Count Fenring’s narrow, proud face. You knew him to be conniving and manipulative in nature, a renowned assassin, and the Emperor Shaddam’s right-hand man. He was neutral toward the labourers; as long as they kept up on the plantation of their planet’s rice, he had no issues. He would often make dealings with the noblemen and women of Caladan; it was very rare that the rice labourers were added to any conversation.

“House Harkonnen of Giedi Prime is seeking entertainment, to those willing-"  Count Fenring’s voice boomed, sitting atop his makeshift throne. 

His voice is cut off by your thoughts at the Planet’s name. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen of Giedi Prime, called your Count “The ambassador to the smugglers” in spice production. 

He continues. “I know you do not get to leave your trusted duties among the fields very often, but consider this a gift of sorts - whoever is able, and willing to be “battle entertainment” to the Na-barron of House Harkonnen, Feyd-Rautha, will be permitted to win your chance at freedom to travel to a new planet, a new experience.. You don’t ever have to return.”

An audible chorus of gasps are heard amongst your peoples. Hushed angry whispers fill the room. You gape at the vagrant display of lack of remorse for human life. You knew little, but House Harkonnen enjoyed pleasures in gore and sadism, is what you did know. What’s in it for your Count? This has to do with spice dealings.

“Freedom to die?”  a male voice questioned loudly. “You dangle freedom in the air as if House Harkonnen has any, and to dangle us in front of the Harkonnen brutes like meat!”

The crowd got louder and louder in frustration and opposition. The Count’s voice bellows as his army hits their swords to the ground in a clang to signify the rice labourers to quiet their naysayers. “Enough. To those who are not interested, you may leave. You are not forced to stay. To those that are, please remain.”

A number of your people shuffled out in a hurry, their bodies a large mass squeezing through the royal entryway. You blink. This is downright morbid.  You had never considered such a thing before, as you only knew your planet to be worthy of laying down your roots until the end of time.

You feel your mother reach for your hands. They are warm, and so is her eyes as she peers into the core of your being.

Your planet is beautiful -  access to bodies of lakes, rocky mountains, majestic trees and budding flowers, delicious rice... 

“You should go.” she mutters. “Live for us.”

Her words a grim truth. Brutal honesty. And that was enough for you.

A handful of the peasants stay alongside you. Your mother places her lips upon your cheek in a chaste kiss.  Your tear ducts well with water as her hand leaves your grasp. Somehow, you know it’s too late to turn back now. You don’t know what made you follow Count Fenring onto the ship and not look back. A chaotic chance for something other than field work? A plunge into absurdity?

You could try absurdity for a while, you decided.

PART 1 PART 2

[brn-t]

Thermotropism

TAGS:

eyy where my plant fuckers at? 👀🌱🌿 you can read it on AO3 here

I don’t think I should have taken this plant home…

Like, when I saw it baking in the sun in that alley outside my building, it’d looked like it had a lot of potential! It was all shriveled but the leaves branched out from a thick basal stem like a monstera almost and there were these bright red blotches on its roots that looked super cool!

When I brought it in (heavy!!) I could tell just by looking how root bound it was, so I popped it out of it’s cheap decorative planter (poor thing was probably never repotted) and yup, there were more roots than dirt.

I had no idea what the hell it was. Inatural had no frickin clue. It looked like a tropical plant with it’s broad green leaves and knobbly aerial roots, but the ground roots were so thick they looked like tubers!! 

I have to admit I was fascinated, but I should have gotten rid of it then…

It spent uh, a couple weeks underneath my shitty little plant light, the one in my room. I was quarantining it in there until I knew it didn’t have any critters on it, but it seemed happy with its repotting and daily soakings for the most part.

The thing really liked water

Like, I started off watering it once a week, and it did perk up, but it didn’t really change much until I started dousing it every morning before work.

And man when it started goin off, it really went off.

It seemed like every time I came home it had sent out a new aerial root or new leaf! The thing was voluptuous as hell! When it got too big for my pathetic little plant light I moved it to the window sill next to my bed. 

It was kinda nice! Like a natural blind or something once it got its runners going up the screen.

I didn’t mind, it was always hot as hell in my little apartment and my landlord couldn’t be arsed to install an AC. I just had to be careful not to accidentally crawl over the little shoots it was sending out all over when I got into bed.

I guess where I fucked up is when I found out about.. its uh.. nutrient preferences

I swear it was a complete accident the first time!! 

I had just gotten home from another 10 hr day and I was tired and smelly and needed to jerk off pronto. I hosed myself down and threw myself into bed, still steaming from trying to scrub off the smell of fried food from my skin, and cracked open my laptop.

Now, fun fact, there's this thing that plants do where they move towards things. Most of the time its towards light, but they can also be attracted to heat! It’s called thermotropism. So I dunno if it was the heat from my ancient laptop or the steam off my skin, but just as I'm about to nut I feel something brush against the head of my dick.

It took me so much by surprise that I came right there, frickin coating a leaf in my jizz. The thing had turned completely around from facing the window above my bed to nearly touching me with its broad soft leaf.

Even for a tropical plant that’s shockingly mobile.

So I cleaned it off as best I could but I guess some of my spunk got absorbed into the soil, I dunno, I passed out shortly after that. I didn’t wake up until nearly nine o clock the next morning because the room was still completely dark thanks to the density of the wall of leaves covering my window. The plant had frickin doubled in size and the terracotta pot I had repotted it in had some fresh cracks in it where the aerial roots were exploding out through.

I didn’t have time to freak out about it since I was once again late to work, but I gotta admit, I was digging the jumanjI vibes it brought to my otherwise very dull room 

So.. I may have started jerking off into it every night?

What! It’s like, natural fertilizer, or whatever!! And the plant seemed to like it? 

I even got it to flower!! It started putting out these crazy flower stalks that closed up during the day but unfurled at night giving off this crazy floral fragrant scent.

It made me remember being a kid and running around in the woods behind my stepdads rental cabin, so I let it keep spreading.

I realize now, this was not the smartest idea, but fuck it, my landlord all but explicitly told me I wasn’t getting the deposit back unless I sued him for it so when it started putting its roots into the drywall, I let it.

It was nice honestly, coming home after seeing nothing but concrete grey for hours and then throwing myself into my little tropical nest. And the smell of the flowers really set the mood when I was jerkin it.

Embarrassingly I think my mind started associating the smell with orgasm because I swear I walked past a florist shop the other day and had to walk bowlegged to the 7D train.

The trouble really started when it started sending its roots in my direction .

Now, I ain’t proud of it, but I more often than not just sleep on a bare mattress. Its got one of those memory foam layers on top and I just couldn’t be bothered to put a fitted sheet on it half the time.

So when I started feeling a bump underneath me as I lay in bed, I just thought it was like, a sock  or something that had gotten shoved underneath there, nbd, until that night… 

I was feeling particularly pent up and kept grinding my ass against that spot on the mattress. I don’t know why I did it, I just wanted more friction and the blooms on the ceiling above me were gettin me wound up with their heavy fragrance. Anyway, it feels like there's a soft tear below me and suddenly something hard and Wide and cold is pressing right against my gooch.

I kinda jump (because it’s cold!!) and look down to find that the frickin plant has grown into the mattress !!

And it was a fat root too, no idea how I didn’t notice it more earlier.

It was kindof freaky to be honest how fast it had grown, the thing really must have liked my semen, but at that point with how humid the room was and how dizzy the flowers were making me feel… I went with it.

 I ground my ass into it and when the thick ridge popped in past my ring I swear I came harder than I ever have in my life dude

I felt like I blacked out a little at the end there because the next thing I knew, it was morning and I'm absolutely painted in my own cum. I guess at this point I should have realized what was going on but I think the pollen those flowers were putting out were scrambling my brains a little. When I woke up, there was a network of thin bright red roots crisscrossing my body, sending out these feathery little things, absorbing the frankly ludicrous amounts of cum I had shot out last night. They pulled at my skin a little as I tore them off but part of me was still a little horny. So I cleared them away and and pulled out my phone.

Fuck it, right? It was my day off and I had no responsibilities that day anyway.

I just rolled over and started going to town on my morning wood.

My ass twitched around something and that's when I noticed...

The fuckin root was still in my ass from last night!!!

I'm trying to use one hand to milk my dick while the other one shoots down in between my legs and sure enough, that fuckin root had buried itself who knows how deep! I tried in vain to pull the thing out, but it was rooted in the mattress after all and didn’t budge. So, humiliatingly, I had to pull myself off of it.

I have to admit, I came a little just from feeling how much of it was inside of me, there was a good 7 inches of thick knobby root dragged out of me, grinding against my prostate as I pulled myself off of it.

I just lay there breathless, staring at the root, sticking straight up out out of my mattress now that it was no longer buried in my ass. My inner walls twitched and contracted, trying to close around the space it had carved out in me.

I guess I still had some sense then because I did actually prune the plant after that

I pulled the root out of my ruined mattress and trimmed all the stalks and roots near my bed. I started jerking off in the bathroom and yea the leaves wilted a bit but that was too much for me, you know?

Well, I don’t know if plants can get pissed but I must have pissed this one off because it responded to me suddenly not “fertilizing” it by sending out these little sticky climbers that got everywhere.

I woke up one morning to the fuckers wrapped around my tiny nipples. I went to sit up and yelped because they got yanked by the fuckin things, pulling my chest to the side. I tried to pull it off as delicately as I could, but the thin stems snapped in half, bleeding a reddish sort of liquid all over my chest!

It sort of burned but I just yelled at the plant, wiped it off and got dressed for work.

Now, I don’t know if I was allergic or something, but for the rest of that day my nipples stayed hard and puffy, poking out visibly from underneath my thin uniform shirt and earning more than a few snickers from the girls up front.

Good thing I had a vacation week coming up.

It had been asked for months in advance, and was the first one I’d had in a decade. I was supposed to drive out to the lake across the state to hang with a buddy of mine at his parents bougie lake house. Well, that night was the night before I was due to head out, and I went to bed in my travel clothes so I could just pop out of bed in the morning. Not wanting to ruin my clothes, I watered the Plant like usual and saved the jerking for when I got to my buddies place.

I was just on the edge of unconsciousness when I felt something moving up my shirt sleeve. I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming it or not so I just laid there, feeling the thing slowly snake its way up to my chest, resting on the sensitive swollen bud there 

I only really tried to react when I felt a second tendril branch out from the first and start oozing that same irritating sap over my OTHER nipple!

Groggily I straightened up, falling for the same headphones on the doorknob trap as last time, but this time it felt a lot better.

My nips hadn't really gone down since that last time so when they got yanked I thought a yelp of pain was what was gonna come out of my mouth, so imagine my surprise when a full bodied moan slipped out instead.

I immediately got super red in the face and yanked off my shirt.

This, unfortunately, snapped the thin tendrils stem, causing it to bleed more of its spicy sap all along my side and chest as I shucked off my shirt.

It left an angry red trail of raised sensitive skin, swelling my nipples far beyond what was normal, and they stuck out of my chest like two puffy toilet plungers out from my swelling pecs.

I tried to pull the tendrils off of them but they were too tight and my nipples were too big now.

I looked up from groping my chest to see how many of the plant’s flowers had opened up above me, showering me in who knows what.

I couldn’t take it anymore, I was openmouth panting, inhaling the perfume and palming my shorts which had at some point started to fill out. I ripped my shorts off too, and only after a few strokes realized how deeply I had just fucked up

If you guessed “that idiot just smeared a sap he’s clearly allergic to all over the most sensitive part of his body” you would be correct...

I was howling in pain as it started to burn, but after a minute or two I was thrusting into the air and moaning like a whore, the fire had turned into an electric storm of pleasure.

My dick was swelling way past normal hardness and I could only continue to try and fuck the hell out of my hand.

It was entirely too humid in that room, everything felt wet and sticky, so when I came finally, I barely even felt it on me

I screamed so loud the neighbors probably thought I was dying I probably did die a little... I think I shot into my own mouth at one point??  I collapsed immediately after, and when I woke in the morning, the whole plant looked shiny and glossy, like it was gloating over the fact it’d gotten me to come for it yet again.

I know it was just a plant but I got mad

I jumped out of bed, completely ignoring the tendrils still wrapped around my nips, put a thick jacket over my shirt and left the room with my suitcase while flipping it the bird.

I felt bad that I would be gone for a week but I’d set it up with a slow release watering pitcher, so I figured it’d be fine without me.

What I didn’t plan on was how I would do without it.

What should have been a great vacation turned into the worst case of blueballs seen this side of the Mississippi.

Not only did my nipples constantly pulse and throb against the tendrils, but I found out later when I went to go use the bathroom that one had slipped around the base of my dick as well, which had also refused to recede back to its normal size. The woody chord was a bit thicker and it wrapped around the base and balls, completely blocking any and all attempts to even get hard.

So instead of focusing on the boat ride or my friends stupid alcohol choices, I was stuck in a constant struggle of being aroused by my throbbing nipples and being unable to address it at all. I was actually filled with relief when the final day came and I was saying goodbye to my hosts.

I flew home after that in my tiny little beater car, shifting uncomfortably at my seatbelt rubbing directly against my chest. I practically kicked the door in, shedding all my clothes in a line to my bedroom and threw myself into bed.

I yelped when I landed on several thick somethings beneath my body creak under my weight, poking me through the thin layer of foam.

The Plant was the worst I’d seen it since I brought it home, with several dead leaves deposited on the bed and an explosion of fuzzy white runners running the length of that bedroom wall.

The roots jabbed into me like it had planned this.

“Ow!” I’d said, “ I'm sorry ok? I just needed a break!”

As a response, I watched a giant cream white flower slowly expand and burst open, sending a shower of shimmery yellow pollen floating down directly over my face.

Things uh, got a little out of hand after that…

The tendrils had finally loosened enough around my dick to where I could pull them off but that just led to all my pent up semen literally dumping into my balls as soon as the tie was removed. I moaned as I could physically feel them growing heavier as a weeks worth of pent up jizz dropped into my balls. They felt like leaden weights.

It was almost painful how quickly I got hard, and it didn’t take more than a stroke or two before I was yelling and releasing said load all over myself and the plant.

You could visibly see it perk up, opening up more buds, showering me with pollen and dusting the bed. The two substances got mixed by my frantic motions and soon I was lightly cheeto dusted with the stuff,

My skin was on fire but it also.. uh, felt really good somehow... So once the high of the first orgasm died down, it wasn't long before I was rarin to go for a second round.

I palmed my recovering erection and was just about fully hard when I felt it.

Again, at my ass!! Was one of the plant’s thick basal roots!! Except this one looked a little weird..

First off it was tremendously thick, about the width of my wrist, and secondly it was covered in all these little backwards facing ridges, like a drywall sink

Man, I don’t know what wires go crossed but between the way my ass was twitching and the pollen I was huffing, I put my ass right against that thing

It must have reacted to my bodyheat because it felt like as I was pressing down on it, the thing was pushing into me as well.

It was intense, there was no give to its turgid walls, so I had to stretch myself out around it to get it past my ring.

Once it was properly seated inside me I started going to town on my dick, which at this point was leaking like my kitchen sink maintenance had refused to address for weeks.

I swear I could feel the root get deeper and deeper inside me as I jerked and spasmed around it I was panting and moaning like a bitch, I can’t believe how horny I was

at some point I felt something at my mouth and wouldn’t you know it, an equally thick tuber had been drawn to my hot breath and was poking at the corner of my lips

I was way past the point of rational thoughts at that point, I just leaned forward and let it creep into my mouth.

The further it got the hotter I felt. My tongue swiped across the underside and that’s when I tasted something sweet

Was this root leaking sap??

Turns out the itchy nectar tasted amazing so I ended up suckling it as I frantically jerked my dick. The root inside my ass had reached my prostate at that point and thats when things got really hazy for me.

I remember exploding all over myself, I would have been screaming if not for the thick root tunneling its way down my throat

I was jerking and spasming to the best of my ability but the roots were getting a little out of control, they were budding from the base of the main roots and expanding all over my body, and every couple of inches they would plant a sticky little node like a command strip onto my skin and keep going, until I could barely move.

The only part that hadn’t been covered was my right arm, which was moving too fast jerking myself off for the tendrils to colonize.

The root in my mouth seemed to expand further, and suddenly I realized that I could still breath despite it feeling like it had reached my guts almost.

My tongue felt a small hole on the underside and sure enough, I could breath just fine.

Good thing too because that’s when I noticed the two thinner roots making their way up my nose, expanding into my nostrils and plugging them completely.

The root in my ass must have had the same idea...

At this point I was slowly starting to realize, like, “oh shit, I really can’t move” and started trying to pull things off of me to escape bu t I honestly couldn’t budge. My left arm was completely rooted to the mattress and my right arm couldn’t be lifted above my waist, just enough to reach my dick but not enough to reach my face.

Leaves were starting to branch out from the tendrils, and with them came more flowers.

They were visibly crawling all over me now, moving fast enough for me to track with my eyes, and I watched in horror as several thin tendrils spiraled up my cock.

I wish I could have broken away but I was quite literally rooted to the spot watching these tendrils poke at my leaking pisshole and worm their way inside.

I screamed and cried but the progress was unceasing, it steadily tunneled into my dick until it hit the base and pinched my prostate against the root in my ass, which at this point must have reached high up into my guts.

I screamed against the root as I came, but no semen escaped my completely plugged dick.

I could feel it making its way inside my through my internal passages, rooting itself straight into my balls, 

At that point I really did pass out, whether from lack of oxygen or overstimulation I couldn’t tell.

Well, I'm awake now and I am utterly fucked, the roots have expanded into nearly every available orifice, even trying to fill out my belly button and uh.. they might have broken through the skin...

I can see ridges beneath my skin.. little hard lines were they’ve penetrated me.

I'm being constantly milked and I can’t even move as they constantly grind against the inside of my cock

I'm not even thirsty or anything, the liquid being drip-fed down my throat fills me up and I'm just kept in a constant state of bliss.

I dunno what to do bro, I have my phone but even texting is getting hard with one hand and roots slowly crawling down my fingers…

you’re the only one close enough to me, theres a key underneath the mat..

you gotta help me man before it's too la

[lillaydee]

Uncoupled - December Part 2

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

December Part 1

---

Joel put his truck into gear and drove off, his heart heavy at the sight of a sobbing Ellie in front of your bakery, his cheek still tingling from the small peck you gave him, your whisper of ‘drive safely’ to his ear as you lightly hugged him before he left, still giving him goosebumps. He had picked Ellie up as usual, but instead of taking her home as he had done this past week, he dropped her off at the bakery. He needed to pick his Mama up back home so that she could spend Christmas together with you, Ellie, Tommy and Maria. Tickets for flights, trains or buses were nowhere to be found so close to Christmas, so he decided he would make the six hour journey to pick her up.

She had offered to drive, but his heart couldn’t take the thought of his mother making the drive alone in her old car in the cold. What if it started snowing? What if there’s ice on the road? No… so Joel decided he would leave immediately after school and the two of them could drive up together. He will drive her back after New Year. Fatigue be darned.

But this would be the first time in nearly four months that he wouldn’t be there at Ellie’s bedtime. The first time he wouldn’t be there to read a story for her or stroke her hair until she fell asleep on his lap while watching TV. He had promised her it’s just for a night, and the little girl had clung on to him like glue as he tried to pass her on to you; so hard, you had to peel her off him.

It’s so weird how attached he had become to this little girl, and her to him. He was never one of those men who hated children; he was a teacher after all. But since children was a far off topic with him and Jen, he had never imagined he would end up being this attached to one. Really. He loved that little girl so much he would be hard-pressed to believe he wouldn’t die for her.

And then, there’s you, and this ‘feelings’ he might have for you.

It’s not that he didn’t want to explore the ‘feelings’, it’s just that he really wasn’t sure. What if he told you how he supposedly felt, and it turned out to be a rebound thing? You were one of the nicest people he knew, and you were just as vulnerable as he was these days – he couldn’t do that to you. So until he was sure it was a real feeling he was feeling, he wouldn’t say anything. Until then, he will enjoy your company and just live in this fantasy land where you, him and Ellie were a family.

He glanced at the passenger seat as he drove. A basket full of the biggest thermos you found, filled to the brim with hot coffee, just the way he liked it, a big bottle of water and a massive container of assorted bite-sized pastries and biscuits and cookies from you, and a packet full of assorted gummy bears from Ellie’s personal stash accompanying him to make sure he didn’t go hungry or thirsty during the six hour drive. Had Jen ever done that for him? He once went to visit his mother for a week and came home to Jen leaving for a night out looking shocked he was back with a suitcase; she hadn’t even realized he had been gone, much less made up a care package for his journey.

But see, this was just one of those things that made him so confused about his feelings. Was he really attracted to you? Or was he just enamored by everything you did for him that Jen did not? When he sprained his shoulder building the planter boxes when the two of you had the house to yourself, you spent the night before Ellie came back icing his shoulder, even going so far as massaging it for him, your lips full of apologies and words of promises to make him all the rice puddings he wanted for making him build them for you. In truth, all you did was tell him your vision for the garden when spring came, but he got overexcited and just got to work. He loved that you shared that with him, that you asked for his opinion. He wanted to do that for you, he wanted to make you happy, because you made him so very happy.

When you were trying out new cookie recipes for the bakery, he became your tastebud, your sounding board, taking his opinions and recommendations into account. You were now talking about redoing Ellie’s room so that it didn’t look like an old lady’s room, and the other day, you were looking at pictures of kitchens, and googling how to repaint your kitchen cabinetry. He looked forward to it all. If not for nothing, he just wanted to spend time with you, work side by side with you. And he knew for a fact that you would welcome his help and company.

That was the other thing. You had never rolled your eyes in distaste for him, never dismissed him or his thoughts or his stories. You literally stopped what you were doing to listen to him, actually removing a pot off the stove once so you could turn and give him your full attention. He had to consciously remind himself to not talk to you when you were concentrating on something – you would definitely stop just to entertain him and his nonsensical ramblings.

He once asked Jen if she had seen his laptop, and she took a deep, annoyed breath as an answer. After that initial year of marriage, everything he did annoyed her. The first instance shocked him. He sneezed while dusting the TV cabinet once, and she snapped at him to sneeze quieter. He joked that if she could figure out how he could control his sneezes without bursting a blood vessel, he would gladly do it, and she grabbed her car key and left for the night, screaming in frustration. He remembered standing there in shock – had he crossed some line he didn’t know existed or something?  

After that day, everything slowly changed. He got yelled at because she came home and there was dinner on the stove. She had a dinner to go to, who the fuck was going to eat that? He ended up taking the food to school for lunch that week, but he didn’t see what the big deal was. So she had a dinner – she didn’t tell him that, so he cooked, and that, apparently, merited a yelling.

And if he dared burp in her presence, or God forbid, cut a fart… oh… how could he do such disgusting things in her presence.

The first time he accidentally farted in front of you, he froze. Ellie let out an eww, so he very quickly said sorry. You didn’t even look his way. You just said, ‘it’s alright,’ lifted your own butt and cut one right back at him, grinning at him so widely he couldn’t help but laugh until he cried. Ellie kept her fingers on her nose until she was blue in the face but ended up laughing with both of you anyway.

So, was he falling for you, or was life just easier with you? Was the joy he was feeling every time he stepped into your company proof that he’s in love with you, or that he had been treated so negatively by his ex that he was confusing the relief he felt with love?

He did know one thing for sure though.

God, he missed the two of you already.

He had been on the road for around four hours when his phone rang. When he realized it was you he slid the answer button so fast he almost dropped the phone from the holder. You apologized profusely for calling, but Ellie refused to go to bed without saying goodnight. He told her a short story his Mama used to read to him before saying goodnight, the little girl mumbling ‘goodnight old man’ as she drifted to sleep. You whispered to him that she was out, and he could hear you close her door. You asked him where he was, how long of a drive he had left, and if he needed company for the rest of his journey.

He said yes to your company so quickly his cheeks felt hot at his desperation. But you just laughed.

You basically kept him company, telling him the drama that was Ellie during dinner, wallowing in the fact that he wasn’t there as if he had been gone a month, making his heart clench. You told him about the Karen that tried to exchange cookies bought from another bakery for yours because yours were nicer, making his blood boil at the thought that someone was so rude to you. You kept him talking, but not distracted, making sure he was not nodding off while driving.

This was the other thing about you. He felt as if you cared about him. The snack basket, the lunches you packed for him, the check ins whenever he’s not at home, your interest in his family, always asking about Tommy and Maria and his Mama. He off handedly mentioned something his Mama had begun crocheting and you asked him the next time he got off the phone about that particular project, whether she had finished it, if she liked the end product. He separated the beansprouts from his meal at dinner once, and all of a sudden, beansprouts no longer appeared on his plate. You paid attention. You cared.

In no time at all, he had pulled into his Mama’s driveway, shocked that two whole hours had breezed by since you called him. You were in the thick of telling him some idea Frank had about the Christmas cake, so he cut his engine and sat there, taking the phone from the holder, listening to you ramble on about the silly idea Frank had, and the back and forth he and Tess had about it, laughing at your story telling talents.

His Mama knocking on his window made him jump. He opened his door and told you his Mama was there. You just started speaking to her as if you had known her forever, despite never having met before. You ended the call, much to his disappointment, telling him to get a good night’s sleep and to text you when he’s leaving the next day.

“Hi Mama,” he greeted her with a kiss. He picked up the backpack he had brought with him and the basket of snacks you had provided, putting his arm around his mother’s shoulder before walking in with her.

**********

Anita Miller was an observant woman. She may not be the richest, or the most educated, but she was an observant woman. She also had a sixth sense of sorts, about the people she loved and those around them. When she got pregnant with Joel, she knew before she even missed her period. She knew he was there. He was an easy pregnancy. She didn’t get sick, she felt energized for much of her pregnancy, he hardly gave her any discomfort, just turned every now and again, a small kick or two, making her feel as if she had butterflies in her stomach and the labor was a breeze, considering it was her first pregnancy.

And that was how Joel was as a son. He was easy. As a baby, he hardly ever cried, just ‘complained’ when he wasn’t comfortable or was sick. He was the child who sat still when visiting other people’s homes, who helped with dinner, who cleaned up after himself, who never got in trouble at school. He was such an easy baby; she and Jake were tricked into believing child-rearing was easy. That her friends and family who complained raising children was the hardest job in the world were exaggerating. So they tried for a second baby.

She knew from the start Tommy was going to be… challenging. The morning sickness, the body aches, the food allergies, the ‘Tommy’ kicks, the extra strength Brackston’s Hicks, the bedrests, the labor… oh… the labor…

Tommy was the kid who couldn’t sit still, who Joel helped calm down, who screamed his lungs off at every discomfort, who Joel comforted, who raided people’s pantries and toyboxes when visiting, which Joel put right, who left a mess, which Joel cleaned up, who got detentions every single week, where Joel waited for him, who got into fights with just about everyone at school, which Joel defended him for, who couldn’t decide on a future, which Joel advised him for, who went through girlfriends like he was changing his clothes… where… Joel had to help break the news to the unfortunate girls for.

When Anita first heard about Maria from Tommy, she had a feeling. She heard him as a different person when he told her he met someone. Even on the phone, she knew. She knew this was the woman he was going to marry. She saw how Tommy mellowed around the time he met her, and he had matured to be the responsible man he was today. And when she finally met her, her hunch was confirmed. Maria was his other half. She completed him. Anita knew. She felt it.  

Joel, on the other hand, met Jen the day he started high school, became good friends with her, and stuck with her. As he and Jen went through all those stages everyone went through, right to adulthood, he stuck with her, as she pulled farther and farther away from him.

The first time Jen came to the house for a school project with Joel, Anita didn’t think anything. They were friends. But the moment Joel told her they were a couple a few years later, she felt… something. She was shocked, to be honest. Jen was not someone she ever thought Joel would be with, even if they had been friends for a while. As they grew older and their relationship blossomed further, Anita tried hard to make peace with it. Jen was a sweet girl, and Anita had nothing against her. She just… had a feeling. Something was not right. But her son believed he was happy. And Joel had never given her grief about anything. So she went with it. As long as her son was happy.

But then she watched that once sweet girl turn into the ambitious, callous, rude, selfish, cold-hearted person she was now. She saw how heartbroken her son was. Even though he played it down every time he talked to her, she knew. She knew her son was unhappy. She saw how Joel had to work too hard to make this girl happy. He would work extra hours to buy her a present, saved and starved to get her something she wanted, especially since she started college. She saw how Joel felt he needed to work for her love, her attention. He was always trying to prove his worth to her. And she saw how disappointed he was every time his efforts were downplayed. She saw with her own two eyes how this once sweet girl chastise her son for letting her stay over. For buying her something on her birthday. For spending money on her.

She heard from Tommy how this once sweet girl broke her son’s heart, blatantly cheating on him and shoving it in his face. She saw how she made her sweet boy smaller, quieter, sadder. It broke her heart so much that she nearly jumped with joy when he finally told her he was leaving her.

And then, he moved in with you. She felt it. He changed. He was himself in ways she didn’t even know he could be. He was happy. Really, really happy. He was relaxed. Rested. Comforted. Content. She asked Tommy about it. And Tommy let slip that Maria and her good friend Tess may or may not have orchestrated this whole living arrangement out of a hunch. A hunch, Anita had to say, she shared wholeheartedly.

Joel just sounded… different. The very first time Joel introduced her to you via Facetime, she just felt it. She had a feeling.

A good feeling.

Although, her oldest boy kept insisting that you were no more than a friend. A roommate. His best friend these days. And yet, she could hear his smiles and his expanding heart every time he talked about you and Ellie, which was every single time he talked to her. As soon as he moved in, stories about the little girl Ellie filled her heart. Joel couldn’t stop talking about her. Pictures upon pictures of Ellie was shared, Anita had a hard time believing she was not her grandchild at all. Facetimes with Ellie was a regular thing, which you sometimes join in on. She found herself missing you and Ellie, despite never meeting, and would beg Joel for stories about her, about you. Every time she went shopping, she found herself buying things for you and the little girl, and earmarking recipes for you to try. Anita had to remind herself that you were his landlady, not his girlfriend. But my God, she liked you.

She had a feeling.

And tonight, as she watched Joel sit in his parked car talking to someone on the phone, she didn’t need to ask who he was talking to. She saw it on his face. His tired, worked all day and drove all evening face.

She knew he was talking to you.

She had a feeling.

And when she found out you had kept him company for the final two hours of his drive and had packed a basket full of snacks for him so he wouldn’t go hungry during his drive, she found herself liking you more.

When she heard him talk on the phone in his room before bed, laughing and giggling with someone she couldn’t see, she didn’t have to ask who it was either. And when he called someone before leaving early the next morning, the smile on his face as he assured the other person that he will drive safely, stop if he felt tired and text if he did stop anywhere, as well as the smile that lingered for ages on his face as he drove the two of them back to his new home told her everything she already knew. He was talking to you.

She had a feeling.

**********

Joel’s truck had hardly entered the driveway when the front door flung open. A little girl, wrapped in a thick jacket and wool hat was standing right in the doorway - practically giddy with excitement as Joel muttered to himself ‘no, no, no, don’t come out yet sweetie, it’s not safe’ – and waited until he killed the ignition before running towards the driver’s door and launching herself at him as soon as he opened it, climbing aboard onto his lap and hugging him with all her might. She then shyly peeked at Anita, saying hi in the sweetest voice Anita had ever heard since her own boys said their first words.

Her own side of the door opened, and Anita was greeted by the sweet, adorable face she had met on Facetime, jumping out to give you a hug. She felt as if she had known you forever, and you, her. Joel came around the truck, Ellie still clinging onto him, giving you a kiss on your cheek and quick hug hello. As you pried the little girl off Joel, telling her Joel must be tired, let’s not cling to him like that, okay, Anita felt it again.

She had a feeling.

Joel carried her many, many bags into his room with Ellie’s usual brand of ‘helping’, letting his Mama have his room for the two weeks she would be staying – he would be staying in Ellie’s room. You and Anita were already like a pair of old slippers, you telling her to sit down as you served lunch for the four of you, her shushing you and helping set the table anyway.

Lunch was a merry occasion, and Anita felt welcomed and right at home, Ellie sitting between her and Joel, chattering as if she hadn’t seen Joel in a week, telling him everything he had missed since he left them not 20 hours ago. Then came the conspiratorial whispering, one that had been happening a lot over the last week, you told her. It’s a surprise, he told you, winking cheekily at Anita with a smile.

Tommy called a few hours later, asking if he and Maria could trouble you to come over for dinner – as if he needed to ask. You had never minded if the six of them dropped by unexpectedly. Plus, Anita hadn’t seen Maria in person since she got pregnant, so she was very excited for her son and daughter in law to come visit, promising his and Joel’s favorite meal for dinner. She asked if you would mind taking her to the store so she could buy some ingredients? You, of course, didn’t, just as she expected.

She separated from you for a while as she was looking for something, so you took the opportunity to get some stuff for the house. You were getting Joel’s usual brand of shampoo when a sharp tap on your shoulder made you look.

Jen. In all her immaculate perfection. Honestly. You felt like a frumpy old lady every time you saw her.

“Come to your senses yet?” she snarked, her eyes giving you a once over, checking your comfortable shoes, your warm but less than stylish jacket and the peeling old purse you were holding, the one Max bought you with his first pay.

“What do you mean? Come to my senses about what?”

“Look at yourself. I wouldn’t be caught dead looking like that in public, and here you are.” She snapped a picture of you, messy ponytail and all, and typed a quick text before sending the picture to someone. “I don’t even want to imagine what you looked like at home. And to think he left me for you. Don’t you realize you are not his type? Why would he lower his standards to be with someone like you?”

“I think he left you because you cheated on him, Jennifer, and may I say, she looks much better than you did before all the surgeries.”

Jen’s face snapped at the sight of Anita appearing behind you, placing a few items into the cart. She composed herself and forced a smile on her face.

“Anita… I’ve missed you… how are you Mama?” She tried to hug Anita, but the older lady took a step back.

“You missed me? The last time you saw me you called me ‘an intrusive old lady’, you know, as you were screaming at Joel to send me home.”

“Well, I was having a hard time back then…” Jen waved her hand as if what Anita just shared wasn’t the most horrifying thing you could think of being said to her.

“Yes… cheating must have been very difficult for you. Anyway, nice to run into you. I hope that doesn’t happen again. Come on, Lily sweetie, let’s go home. Joel and Ellie are waiting.”

She slipped her hands through your arm and guided you out of there, Jen standing there, stewing at the thought of her soon-to-be-ex-mother-in-law calling you ‘sweetie’ when she was never granted such a term.

“I knew you’ve always hated me,” she screeched out after the two of you.

“Really? I wonder why,” Anita dryly replied.

She paid for the purchase, fending off your protests and sweet talking the cashier into taking her card instead of yours, helped you load everything into the car, got in, and heaved a huge sigh of relief as the two of you buckled up and waited for the engine to warm up.

“You know, I never liked that bitch.”

**********

Joel showed you the message Jen sent him while you were at the store. A picture of you with the text – ‘I can’t believe you dumped me for this’. He hugged you, asking you if you were okay, knowing that she must have confronted you if she was that close to you to get a picture.

Anita told him what happened, and he kissed her, thanking his Mama for defending you. He hugged you again, apologizing for Jen’s words. You waved it off, it wasn’t his fault, you told him. She’s right, you muttered to yourself when you were sure Joel was out of earshot, greeting Tommy and Maria at the door, both of whom quickly smothered Anita with hugs and kisses as Anita cooed at Maria’s belly.

You unpacked the shopping while Anita, her two boys and Maria were merrily chattering while dinner was being prepped. She was making the boys’ favorite stew. When Jake Miller died, Joel and Tommy were only seven and four. His pension was hardly enough to cover half the expenses, so she would make that stew to save cost. It quickly became the boys’ favorite meal, she told you. She’ll teach you how to make it, it might come in handy, she said.

“It’s true. Sucks the grump away from both of them like that,” Maria said, snapping her fingers, her mouth full of the leftover Christmas cookies you had brought home from the bakery the night before.

You laughed, Joel and Tommy kissing their mother’s cheek, so much love in their eyes for her. You kept unpacking, your eyes glued to how happy Joel looked that his mother was here, absent mindedly taking out a plastic container that rattled. Upon realizing what it was, you shrieked and threw it onto the counter, taking a step back, looking at it in horror.

Ellie ran in, panicked at hearing you scream. Joel immediately going over to you, asking you what was wrong, did you hurt yourself? Was there a spider? What? Ellie peeked on the kitchen counter and saw what you just tossed. Recognition immediately filled her features, and she started laughing uncontrollably.

“What? This?” Joel asked, picking up the item you tossed.

It was a container of raw kidney beans.

He showed it to you, asking you if that was what you were scared of.

You froze and took a step back.

“When she was my age Daddy told her she needed to put them up her nose if she wanted to get the good presents for Christmas. She put so many up there her nose bled, and her head rattled. Grandpa had to take her to the hospital. The whole family missed Christmas that year.”

“Wait, that’s where Beans came from?” Joel asked, a sweet smile forming on his face.

You bit your lips, shame flooding your face. Fuck. Secret’s out.

But then you sort of saw the funny side of it and snorted. You nodded slowly, your eyes closed, your face scrunched up in embarrassment.

“So you don’t buy kidney beans?”

“Only the canned ones. Never the dry ones.”

Anita snorted, and the rest followed. You laughed with them, bent double from the silliness of it all. Joel gave you another hug, kissing you on the head.

“You’re adorable,” he said, before he could stop himself. You blushed and smacked his arm, continuing your unpacking, laughing as you did so, shoving the beans and a few other items into his hand telling him to store them in the pantry.

Anita was an observant woman. She watched every time Joel looked at you, which, if her watch was right, was every few seconds any time the two of you were in the same room together. She watched as he touched you every chance he got. She watched as his face lit up every time you talked, blushed every time you were looking at him. She watched as her oldest son’s face morph into longing and yearning every time you were not. She watched as he clung on to every word you said to him. She watched as he smiled and relaxed in your presence. She watched as he bounced around the house with you with ease, as you laughed with each other.

She watched. She observed.

She knew.

She had a feeling.

Her oldest son was head over heels in love.

For real this time.

And she was all for it.

---

December Part 3 - The Show, The Purses, The Mistletoes

[hiskillingjar]

law with user who is super attached to them? i have bpd so i am. projecting. or maybe law with opposite aesthetic user. ahhggg help me

yeag 🥀

1300+ words, sfw, meet cute but they may both be demented yayyyyyy cute!

"Oh, hello! What can I do for you today?"

The pretty sales clerk smiled at Lawrence over the hardware store counter, dimpling their round cheeks, punctured by silver barbell piercings at the corners of their smile. 

They had seen them around before, working at the counter when they were assessing the new shipment of plants (they came in every Wednesday just to check for anything that needed saving) and putting out stock when they were checking out, but they'd never had the opportunity actually to talk to them until now. 

Granted, Lawrence didn't have much opportunity to talk to anyone, but that was generally by choice.

“Hello,” Lawrence mumbled with their best attempt at a polite smile, one they’d practised extensively in the mirror and looked relatively normal looking (it didn’t touch their eyes, but they would do what they could). “Um…I was looking for planter twine. It, uh, it wasn’t where it usually was?”

"Yes yes," They said quickly, stepping around the counter (they were wearing their work apron over jeans and black cotton and fishnet, silver chains hanging from their hip, a bitter exterior hiding a sweet centre) and starting to walk towards the greenhouse section that Lawrence had just come from. "Yeah, one of my managers did a restructure of the planting stuff for whatever reason." They waved their hand flippantly. "Said it would make more sense to put supplies at the exit or something."

"Oh," Lawrence frowned, their brows knitting together as they walked behind them, shambling slowly to make up for their taller stature (even in platforms, the pretty sales clerk was almost a head shorter than them). "That's not very considerate..."

"Tell me about it," They rolled heavily made-up eyes before looking back at Lawrence over their shoulder and smiling, more than just good customer service, it appeared actually fond. "But you can always ask for my help, if you need it. I'm, uh," They chuckled and scratched their neck as the automatic door slid open for them. "I'm glad you did. Ask me, that is…heh, sorry, I’m all over the place…"

"Mm," Lawrence nodded with their own smile, no longer a polite social nicety, more genuine (more offputting). "Um, yeah, no worries. I...I appreciate that."

"Ah!” They explained triumphantly, reaching towards the display for the coil of planter’s twine. “Here you are. All the planter twine you could need."

They held it out for them, and when Lawrence reached to take it, their fingers grazed over each other. 

It was barely a touch, just a brief moment of skin on skin contact, but it was more than enough to send a sharp prickle of excitement up Lawrence's spine, tingling up their brain stem and down to their toes.

That was bad, they thought, instantly pulling back. 

They couldn’t be excited around someone like this. 

Someone innocent and undeserving of any of their potential cruelty. Someone kind. And…so, so pretty.

"Um, I-I hope you don't mind me saying this..." The pretty sales clerk mumbled before Lawrence could dismiss themself, looking all the prettier with an embarrassed look, their dark eyes flitting down, heavy platforms meeting as their knees touched. "But, uh, I've seen you around here a lot…basically every day I work here, actually."

Lawrence felt embarrassed, being confronted with their obsessive consistency like this, but they had a sense that this wasn't being pointed out in a judgemental light.

In fact, it was probably the exact opposite.

"I’ve kind of gotten…a little attached, as creepy as that sounds.” 

“Attached?” Lawrence repeated quietly, cheeks flushing a little darker.

“I’m not a stalker, I promise.” They chuckled, idly toying with a strand of their hair, dyed black to match their bitter exterior. Something in Lawrence ached to see what they were hiding (and maybe they actually would have let them). "But, uh, I can see you like plants too. That's really cool. I mean, I do too, but I can barely keep a succulent alive-"

"Oh?" Lawrence looked up then, their flushed cheeks subsiding at the mention of plants. "W-What are you struggling with?"

"Um," They blinked before chuckling bashfully again. They clearly hadn't anticipated them picking up on their gardening woes. "Ah, I-I'm not sure...they just tend to die on me, most of the time…maybe I just have, like, the opposite of a green thumb or something."

"Well, succulents go against human nature," Lawrence mumbled, their fingers toying with the twine, the fibres rough and scratchy against their skin, flashed images of the twine looped around something else in their mind making their expression and something else twitch as they spoke. "They don't need watering very often, and they do well when they're just...left alone on a window sill, something like that. They’re not really plants as they are…well,  decorations."

Their tongue poked out and wetted their lips nervously, their grey eyes going to meet the eyes of the pretty sales clerk, who appeared to be listening.

"They're good plants for people who work a lot, students, people without much time on their hands," They continued to explain, idly pacing and gesturing towards a display of succulents and cactuses in novelty pots (most of them foodstuffs and animals, the kinds of things Lawrence found tacky). "Because they don't need as much as other plants do. Not like a pothos plant or most ferns, or god forbid, an orchid...they need constant attention."

They looked back towards the pretty sales clerk with a slight smile, softer and gentler than they could normally manage but probably just as eerie as ever. 

People didn’t like their smile, normally, but…they hoped the pretty sales clerk had an appreciation for it.

"Maybe you’d do better with…something a little needier, as opposed to something more independent like a succulent..." They canted their head slightly. "What do you think?"

“I think you’ve been talking with one of my exes,” They laughed, toying with that strand of hair again. 

Their laughter made Lawrence laugh too, though theirs was quiet and tittering, well controlled and subdued lest it grow into something bigger and scarier.

"I also think you're remarkably patient," They continued, pushing their free hand into their apron pocket, idly swaying from side to side as they spoke, restless and needing something to do while they were speaking. "If those are the kinds of plants you look after."

Lawrence shrugged.

"I just like paying attention to something." They said with another little shrug, eyes going upwards in thought, their lips pressed together as they considered what to say next, what they wanted to reveal to a quasi-stranger. "I like to...to be needed, I suppose. It...gives me a purpose, you know. Something to bring me home when…things are bad."

Normally, a statement like that would earn pity, sympathy, things that Lawrence didn't care about and flat-out abhored most of the time.

But the pretty sales clerk didn't pity them.

They understood them.

At least, their gaze implied as much.

"Yeah," They mumbled, their smile and their gaze softening slightly as they teased the hoop through their bottom lip with their teeth, looking thoughtful. "That's...really beautiful, when you put it like that. Maybe that's what I need too..."

"Hm," Lawrence hummed, before looking back down at the planter's twine, now welcoming the images of the rough fibres wound around the pretty sales clerk's wrists, ankles, their jaw, their lips, rubbing skin raw, bringing up sores and blood-

"You know,”  They said, derailing their train of thought “I see you around here so much, but I don't think I even know your name." They smiled bashfully, looking to the side again. "You've just been...'the pretty blonde' when I think about you in all my creepy stalker fantasies that I totally don’t have…heh."

"Hah," Lawrence let out a strangled breath, dead eyes alight with unfamiliar life, and tried to cover it with a laugh, tried to appear normal, if only just for a moment. "That's...that's way too nice..."

"Maybe if you give me a name, I won't have to be so flattering," They replied with another chuckle. "Do you trust me with that much?"

"Yeah...I'm Lawrence," They smiled that eerie little smile again. 

"And you?"