#heavy rainstorm for studying

[success-seeker]

Heavy rainstorm with thunder in the street is a perfect natural soundscape for relaxation and sleep. In this video, you will experience the calming sounds of a heavy rainstorm mixed with gentle thunder, recorded in the middle of a street. These sounds create a serene environment ideal for relaxing, studying, or falling asleep. Whether you're trying to unwind after a busy day, reduce stress, or enhance your focus, this video provides a soothing backdrop to help you relax.

[abdullahblog2023]

A wonderful view from the balcony | rain | Thunder | And lightning over the city and the mountains

Enjoy an exceptional experience of relaxation and tranquility with this enchanting scene that combines the beauty of nature with soothing sounds. Through the balcony, this visual treat takes you to a world where rain gently falls on the city, washing the streets and renewing souls. Raindrops fall gracefully, creating a calm rhythm that flows between the folds of the air. The majestic sounds of thunder add dramatic depth to the scene, while the bright flashes of lightning illuminate the sky and show a wonderful backdrop of the city and surrounding mountains. This contrast between the forces of nature and the strength of human construction creates a unique balance that attracts the eye and captivates the heart. In addition, the chirping of birds flows with their delicate sounds between the rain and thunder, adding a touch of magic and comfort to the scene. These diverse sounds form a harmonious natural musical palette, making this video an experience rich in emotions and feelings. In this scene, nature blends with urban life in a way that refreshes the soul and helps relax and meditate. Whether you are looking for quiet moments to relax or need a relaxing background to help you focus, this video offers you a unique and enjoyable experience that reconnects you with the beauty of nature.

[relaxedbybakar]

Dream with Heavy Rainstorm Sounds on House Stairs | Help study, Insomnia...

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Sanji finds you crying and pretends to believe your excuses. Is anyone up for slow dancing in the rain?]

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When the time for supper came, Sanji knocked on your door to let you now. He was met with silence, so he naturally assumed you were sleeping. Not much of a problem - he'll set aside a portion for when you wake up hungry.

The problem is, that was around two hours ago.

Sanji knocked on your door again and when silence answered him this time also, he allowed himself to peek inside. Only to discover your bed is empty. He grew suspicious, if not worried, when no one could tell him where you went. It's the middle of the night and the rainstorm doesn't stop. Sanji also noticed how quiet and upset you've been most of the day, making him all the more tense that you are unaccounted for. The thought that you're obediently suffering in silence breaks him more each time he entertains it.

Sanji is scrubbing the cutting board with feverish vigour. The faster he finishes, the faster he can get to making sure you're fine. As though the fish scales knew his thoughts, they simply wouldn't get off the wooden surface.

The steel scrubber escapes his hands. It hits the sink with a quiet clank. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down and looks away from the pile of dishes. That's when he finally sees you through the smudged porthole. The rain outside obscures your silhouette. Nevertheless, Sanji is beyond convinced that it is, in fact, you. Despite the initial relief, he feels his chest tighten. You look like a marble statue, forever frozen still in grief.

Leaving the cutting board in the sink and grabbing his suit jacket, Sanji dashes out the door, making haste to you. What on Earth do you think you're doing out in this weather?

The cold rain hits him like a wall of ice. True, the cool water may feel refreshing after the hot and humid daytime hours but not at this rate of rainfall. Even if the nights in the open sea weren't so dark, it would still be impossible to see anything beyond the ship.

He has to come close to you to see the heartwrenching details of your silhouette. You're hunched over, staring at the turbulent waters below. The clothes you're wearing are absolutely drenched, no dry string in their material. Every now and then, your freezing body shivers violently.

"Love?" he calls out to you in an unsure voice.

But you don't react - at least not in the way he has been expecting you to. Instead of looking at him, you turn your face further away, quickly wiping it with your hands.

Sanji wastes no time. In long strides, he finds himself pressed up against your side and forcing his jacket around your shoulders. Considering the heavy rain it won't do much in the long run but maybe it can keep you warm until he convinces you to go back inside.

"Hey, look at me," he pleads in a soft voice.

Too tired and heartbroken, you let his warm fingers guide your face towards him. As if time suddenly slows down, you notice each wrinkle that appears and disappears when he studies your sorrowful expression. If he was a little less perceptive, Sanji would think your face is just wet from the heavy rainfall. The red veins of your bloodshot, puffy eyes are hardly visible in the darkness of the rainy night but not black enough to remain unseen by Sanji.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying? What happened?" he keeps asking. With each question, he feels the tension in his chest only rising.

"I'm not crying, I'm perfectly fine," you reassure him. Your forced scoff is followed by a pathetic sniffle. "It's just the rain. Saltwater irritated my eyes."

Of course, with your whole "I'm brave and strong and I can manage on my own" facade, you're not going to openly admit to weakness in front of anyone, even if it's painfully obvious. As much as Sanji considers your tough image charming, he wishes you would discard it once in a while - for your own sake.

"How can you be fine with saltwater in your eyes, princess?" Sanji goes along with your poorly constructed lie. His arms engulf you in a warm, albeit drenching wet, hug. "It must burn."

"Yeah, it does," you mumble against his soaking shirt. With a little more light, you would be able to see his bare skin from underneath the wet material. "But it's getting better."

One of Sanji's hands is keeping your head against his shoulder while the other drags up and down your back in a soothing gesture. The jacket he has put around your arms is already drenched, too. He feels your body shaking but can't be sure whether it's because of the "saltwater" or the cold weather. In any case, his heart breaks each time he feels those spasms. His mind panics in search of something that could possibly lift your mood.

The noise of the rainfall is disrupted by a soft, low hum. A melody you vaguely know rumbles inside Sanji's chest. Dean Martin...? Strong arms hold you tightly against his torso as he ever-so-gently sways you to the rhythm of the song.

A quiet giggle escapes your lips as you let yourself sink into the comfort of him. Up until this moment, the cosiness of a loved one's arms confronted with the coldness of a rainstorm, you've thought that scenes like these exist only in sappy novels written for naive young women.

"Slow dancing in the rain," you finally speak up. If it wasn't for the rather unpleasant rain drenching you to every last string of your clothing, yous wear you could fall asleep like this. "Aren't you a hopeless romantic, Sanji?"

"I'm just getting started, love," he murmurs against your hair, still slowly swaying your bodies despite having stopped the humming. You're inclined to believe that his chivalry ventures far beyond dancing in the rain.

"Oh, yes, please."

A low chuckle rumbles inside his chest. It merges into a symphony with the soft thrumming of his steady heartbeat.

"Feeling any better?" he asks in a serious tone.

To Sanji's dissatisfaction, you lean away from him to look at his face. Your eyes are still red but the curious glint he's learned to associate with you has found its way back into them. It seems like your grit, honesty or facade, has returned.

"What will you do if I say no?" you ask back.

As relief washes over him, Sanji smiles down at you. His hand slicks your drenched hair out of your puffy face.

"I should figure something out just for my baby," he answers without missing a beat. His fingers brush along your jaw and chin.

Before you have a chance to inquire, Sanji leans down and lifts you. A yelp of surprise is pulled out of your chest. Without much problem and clearly with a lot of enjoyment, he carries you back inside the lower deck of the ship.

[majinbangus]

"Sunshine, where you goin'?"

You're three steps out of the bar when you hear him calling over the light pitter patter of the rain. You turn around to see him standing in the threshold, keeping the door open with the low light of the bar streaming out behind him. He looks ethereal. Like some type of incorporeal vision as the background chatter of the bar leaks out, creating an asmr-esque buzz.

You're unworthy to be in his presence. Wet and cold. Miserable and pitiful. A background character no one ever pays attention to. Yet he's here talking to you.

"I'm going back to the barracks." You shift uncomfortably between your feet. "I'm tired."

Maybe it's the way the shadows play across his face, but he looks disappointed for a split second.

"Oh, but you just got here? I wanted to..." He trails off, frowning and clenching his fists for a moment before letting the tension drop with a sigh, "Never mind. Lemme walk you back."

"You don't have to do that-"

"No, but I want to."

He's already stepping your way, leaving little room for argument. The bar doors shut, and suddenly, it's just you and him. Still, you try to give him an out.

"But what about that lady you were talking to?"

The one you saw start a conversation with him before you left. The one in the pretty dress. The one who looked like she would be his perfect match.

"Only lady I wanna be talking to is you, Sunshine."

It's a funny joke, so you laugh. "Be serious."

"I am, Sun." He says it like it's true, and because he's got you stunned, he takes the opportunity to grab your hand and place it on his chest, holding you there.

He's warm. A stark contrast to the coldness that runs through your body. And despite the layers of clothing, you can feel the faint beating of his heart under your palm. Strong. Steady. Alive.

Your fingers twitch, curling into his chest. There's something calming about feeling that heavy beat against your palm.

"I was gonna tell you this inside where it's warm and dry, but I guess now's a good a time as any."

You look up from where you were watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. "What?"

"I wanted to tell you how I feel, Sun. Ask you out proper and take you out on a date," He confesses, hand pressing against yours a tad tighter, heart beating just a little harder. "If you'd let me."

It somehow doesn't feel real. Like you're having an out of body experience or dreaming something impossible. And yet... And yet, the way his heart beats so clearly tells you everything you need to know. Everything you ever hoped for. You would be a fool to reject him, even if this all turns out to be some cruel hallucination.

"I'd really like that."

The grin he rewards you with is heavenly.

"Yeah?" He steps a little closer, his musk filling the air you breathe, amplified by the misty rainstorm. You're surrounded by him. Encapsulated in his presence. It'd be a crime if you stepped away now. "You mean that?"

"Yeah, so... Guess there's nothing left to do but kiss in the rain, huh?" You shoot him a tentative smile, hand trembling nervously against his chest. "Take advantage of the crappy weather and all."

The amused huff he exhales lets you know you said the right thing, and the bashfulness you feel is replaced with anticipated glee at the sight of his lips slashing into a smirk. He uses his other hand to wrap around your waist and pull you flush against him. You lick your lips when his eyes dart down to study them, breath stuttering as he leans in, murmuring in that low, resonating timbre you love so much, "Guess so."

And then he presses his lips against yours with the beat of his heart thundering wildly under your palm.

-

Inspired by this:

Bruno Mars, Anderson .Paak, Silk Sonic- Leave The Door Open (Live from the iHeartRadio Music Awards) @ 2:35

[flyingwargle]

october fanfic recs!

i don't have too many this month, so check out the previous months' recs: july, august, september

some of these fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

Dawn and Other Acts of Love t. 4.6k. sakusa's worst nightmare has come true: he has to stay the weekend at atsumu's. such a funny premise spun into a fluffy piece with light hurt and so much comfort. loved it!

shoot to kill g. 6.2k. this obliterated me and continues to haunt me. atsumu knows not to cross the line when it comes to insults and arguments, but sakusa does not, and says something that he shouldn't have. very powerful, with a tender conclusion at the end. one of the best fics i read this year <3

Summer Special: Omigiri t. 6.9k. osamu asks sakusa to be his model for his upcoming summer umeboshi onigiri special, but it turns out to be a ploy for him to confess to atsumu. absolutely hilarious.

The Taste of 2 a.m. t. 8.2k. atsumu is an insomniac with a need to drink tea at 2 am and sakusa joins him. they eventually fall in love with the routine and each other.

Curse Breaking for Dummies: A Setter's Guide to Getting the Guy g. 10.2k. 2/2. modern magic twist where atsumu is cursed with a love curse and everyone falls in love with him except sakusa. you can tell where this will go. very fun and lighthearted!

love as told by you t. 11.1k. this fic is the sun that beams onto you at the end of a rainstorm, reassuring you that love exists, and you'll find love, or a platonic soulmate. it's so warm and tender, choke full of affectionate details of a blooming sakuatsu relationship. a comfort fic, for sure.

recipe for disaster e. 22.9k. fwb narrative where atsumu falls in love with sakusa, featuring anxiety, supportive brothers, and sakusa who also loves him back. the sunaosa side of things is also *chef's kiss* and recommended below ehe

sunaosa

turn west towards dawn e. 2.7k. prose intertwined with letters about osamu getting an email from suna while studying in italy to reconnect after their break-up. the writing is both light but heavy with their lingering emotions and regret that makes your heart throb.

resistance to flow t. 6.2k. fwb to lovers agenda. i will never tire of the slippery slope of falling in love, especially if it's written beautifully.

A Primer for the Small Weird Orchestra Loves t. 8.2k. au where the boys are in an orchestra and suna helps osamu with the violin. lovely details and slow burn, with also a sakuatsu sequel.

of great ambition m. 17.8k. more of a suna-centric character study with a splash of sunaosa that focuses on suna's journey to become a pro. suna is so vulnerable in this, and he deserves all the glory for himself. it's also very in line with how i interpret his character <3

secret menu e. 26.3k. the sunaosa side of recipe for disaster. suna takes a part-time job working at onigiri miya during the off-season and gets more than he bargained for. also fwb narrative but augh. augh. the writing for both fics is so good and tailored to each character's perspective. i love both of them.

bokuaka

an ode to a conversation stuck in your throat e. 3.1k. a character study of bokuto who has bpd with spice. achingly soft and full of love.

crossing distance g. 4k. bokuto went abroad to study after high school and akaashi is the first one that he contacts. i just love how they were able to fall into each other again despite the distance and falling out of communication, it's truly a magical thing <3

A Kind of Magic t. 6.7k. bokuto and akaashi often hang out at bokuto's house until akaashi invites him over and introduces him to his incredibly large and wild family. beautiful, beautiful prose and gradual realization of feelings. we stan family members as their cheerleaders.

heavy heart, a love apart e. 7k. exes to lovers. this oozed with angst and heavy hearts with tension that is eventually resolved for a hopeful ending. loved the atmosphere created by the prose.

iwaoi

yes-man t. 4.1k. no matter what oikawa asks of iwa, he always says yes, including a spontaneous weekend trip to las vegas. very cute and fluffy!

Pretty Boy t. 8k. oikawa is used to iwa's range of nicknames for him, but when iwa starts calling him pretty boy, well. that changes things. fluffy, cute, and lighthearted!

shoelaces and departures t. 10.1k. 2/2. magical realism au where iwa runs a cafe and oikawa is compelled to travel to different corners of the world because of his innate wanderlust. mutual pining at its finest with fluff.

rise e. 12.4k. oikawa and iwa live together after high school but don't have a label on their relationship. something else that this fic focuses is on the push-pull aspect they have, especially with oikawa's knee injury. the hurt/comfort hit me where it hurt.

When I Fall to My Feet e. 23.2k. 3/3. trans oikawa is looking for someone to overwrite his terrible first time, and eventually iwa offers to do it. fwb to lovers, with a sprinkle of makki and mattsun friendship, and a wonderfully supportive iwa.

other

The MSBY Black Jackals Guide To Self-Care t. 4.5k. sakusa-centric. a cute little fic of sakusa learning about his teammates' various self-care routines.

Off the Hinges t. 15.9k. arankita, sakuatsu. kita adopts sakusa since he's a kouhai in the same business program as him while watching him develop his relationship with atsumu. kita also takes a page from his own book with his relationship with aran. cute and endearing. my first arankita fic and i hope it won't be my last.

i remember how the earth stopped turning t. 73.3k. 6/6. kageyama-centric. man. man. it's an amazing read that focuses on the immediate post-career ending injury and intertwines povs from other characters. gorgeous prose. give it a read, seriously.

Yamaguchi Tadashi is NOT a ghost hunter m. 77.9k. 23/23. tsukkiyama. the house that tskushima, kuroo, and bokuto rent in osaka is haunted, and hinata recommends yamaguchi, a spirit medium, to help them. the slow burn!! the mystery!! the details!! i very much enjoyed this <3

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | 1.5 | Bradley Bradshaw

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chapter moodboard

Bradley learns that maybe the two of you weren’t on the same page after all.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), swearing, infidelity, nudity, mentions of erections, making out. Semi-oral (f receiving), touching, mentions of sex. Ohhh boy you thought it was all okay. Wc: 5.8k

It didn’t feel like seven days at the Gabris estate. It felt like so much longer. A whole summer, even. The sunny day down at the lake, and then two whole days of rainstorms, and the day that Teodora showed you how to know which apricots are the sweetest to pick, the day that Zoe twisted her ankle on the crumbling back steps. The night by the piano.

This morning. 

Luke must know where Bradley is, after he didn’t go to their room last night. Maybe he would think Bradley fell asleep in the study, but he isn’t that stupid. 

Of course, Bradley is here with you. He fell asleep here last night, shortly after you had. He’s still asleep now, breathing deeply against the crook of your neck, his thigh slotted between yours and his palm on your stomach.

You haven’t been awake long. 

It’s a warm, sunny morning and you can hear Sandro’s wife singing in the kitchen downstairs. Bradley smells like summer. You twist in his arms and turn your face toward his neck, breathing in the citrus and faint sweat and remainders of his cologne. 

Bradley wakes to the feeling of your lips soft against his neck, and your fingers stroking at the hair at his nape.

Instantly, he realises that he didn’t make it back to his own bed last night, but he can’t find it in himself to mind. His arms snake around your middle and he squeezes you closer. He’s in your room. Not only that, but he’s in your bed. You’re laying on your side, the textbook half squished under you. The two of you fell asleep studying. He’s still fully clothed, and that’s what matters. 

He lifts his arm and squints to check his watch. It’s still early. The two of you slept almost all night. Lowering his wrist, he startles once more to find that your eyes are now open. You blink tiredly at him.

“We fell asleep.” You mumble, barely awake. Your legs stretch out from under you as you push yourself onto your back and inch away from him. You’re close enough that all you can smell is his cologne. Each inhale tempts you towards letting your heavy eyelids just fall shut, letting your cheek rest against the muscle of his shoulder.

“Morning,” You murmur against his neck. 

He kisses lazily at your temple. “Good morning, honey.”

Last night, Bradley had touched you again. The two of you had been sitting on your bed, and you were teaching him the Wall Street way of playing poker — as skilfully learned from your time watching your father — and Bradley had, so crudely, wagered your underwear.

They are laying, discarded, on the floor of your room now. 

It feels good, pretending that none of this matters. That he is allowed to touch you, and lay with you, and kiss you. 

“Did you sleep okay?” One of his palms pressed firmer into the middle of your back, flattening you against his chest as he turns his face  toward your neck. 

“Like the dead.” You mumble against his warm skin, resting your cheek against his clavicle. He hums amusedly.

For a moment, you let it be quiet. He’s still on the cusp of sleep, barely awake and groggy. Your fingers skim up the swell of his bicep and across the scarred skin on his shoulder, onto the muscled plains of his back.

He hums at the feeling, letting you know that he’s enjoying the soft touch. Maybe you’re enjoying it just as much. His skin there is soft, and always warm. You reach for freckles that you can’t see, guided by the ridges of his shoulder blades. 

“I could stay like this forever.” You whisper. He makes a tired sound of agreement as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. 

Sighing as he pulls his hands from his face, he pulls back and lets himself look at you. Settled down against the pillow, just watching him. Studying him.

Eyes heavy and blinking at him. Lips parted just slightly, like you’ve got something to say. The warmth of your skin. The look in your eye. The fact that he knows your underwear are still on the floor.

Bradley moves before he really weighs up what he’s doing. Eclipsing your jaw with his palm, you hold your breath as he leans in and kisses your top lip. 

It’s slow, but the feelings it sends through you aren’t. The soft weight of his chest pressing into yours, just a taste of what the real thing could feel like. 

Another slow kiss, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You comply eagerly, pressing into his touch. His knee slides between yours, finding leverage on the mattress between your thighs.

Your mind skips ahead of you, flooding the darkness behind your eyelids with images of him that night with Natasha. His hands inching along the backs of her bare thighs. The need coursing through them, pressing close to each other with each kiss. 

His warmth is inviting, intoxicating. His palm sits heavy on your cheek as you shuffle impossibly closer to him. He welcomes you against him, covering you with a fraction of his weight. Bradley likes strong women. Experienced women. 

You rush forwards, chasing his mouth, grabbing at his shoulder, tugging him closer. He follows your lead wordlessly, carding his open palm over your hair, teasing his tongue along your lip. 

It occurs to you that this could be the first time that you ever have sex. Everything you’ve been so afraid of. Ashamed of. Enveloped, hidden away by the strong feeling of his hands on your body.

It could happen. All that’s stopping you is his underwear, and the fact that he told you he wouldn’t. But he wants to. He told you he wants to.

A greedy hum passes your lips, caught against his. Your fingers slide from his shoulder into his hair before you can remind yourself that this isn’t right. 

At first, Bradley thinks that he’s imagining things. There’s no way. But then, it happens again just as it had the first time. Your hips shift at just the right angle — the third time is just too much for it to be a coincidence, you’re grinding against his thigh.

A low grumble fights its way from his chest and into his throat, his hands sprinting for you like the snap of a rubber band, grabbing you tightly by your hips. It crosses his mind that he’s moving too fast and considers pulling back to check. Before his mind can land on an answer, your hand tousles into his curls and grabs firmly.

Even all of those too-big shirts he wears, nothing could really hide the fact that Bradley just remains to be a big guy. Tall, wide shoulders, long legs and a strong middle. He reminds you of his strength, dragging you against him by your hips. The brown hair that dusts his thigh brushes the inside of your thighs, the apex of your legs.

“How’s that?” Bradley asks as his thumb brushes a strand of hair back off of your temple. 

Heat flushes instantly across your face. Bradley sees it in the calculated way that your eyes widen just slightly. The way he feels your fingers flex at the nape of his neck.

“It’s fine.” You bite back. Bradley should have known that even in a time like this, you would still be fighting him for the upper hand. Not tonight, honey. His words cross your mind, this time tinged with the resentment and shame your mind has coated them in. 

You’re certain that he hasn’t ever told Natasha no in her entire life.

He trails his tongue along the seam of your lips, slow and soft, then brushes forwards and captures your mouth into a bruising kiss. He barely even pulls back to speak, his lips brushing yours. “Tell me what you want.” 

You whimper. His massive hands and their hold on your hips, rocking you against the denim of his jeans. It’s impossible to think straight. “I don’t know.”

“I know what I want.” Bradley tells you, tucking his thumb under your chin and angling your jaw so that he can bite at your throat. The action has you keening against him, eagerly following the direction of his thumb so that his mouth can reach more of your throat.

 It’s cruel honestly, everything he’s doing to you. He’s the first man to tell you that he wants you. Not because you’ve been together a while and it’ll happen eventually. Because he thinks you’re sexy. He’s attracted to you. He wants you. And fuck, his voice is so deep. “Tell me what you want.”

“I — Bradley, I don’t —“ You sigh, huffing a deep and frustrated noise as he sucks warmly at your skin. “I want you to touch me… I think.”

“You think?” Bradley’s hand sits against the backside of your thigh, warm, his long fingers splayed out along your skin. His lips barely have to move before he’s sucking at your neck. His warm mouth, languid against your skin. Swiftly, he curls his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips and tugs you against him, working you against his thigh.

The friction ignites something. Something you’ve felt before. The kindling is hot but it’s all white smoke for now. Blinking, you stare up at him with a decision to make. He squeezes your hips.

“I do. I do want you to touch me.”

The expectation is that he’ll pull back and tear your nightdress up out of his way and have his way with you. Bradley nips at your throat compliantly, kissing his way down your jaw and your throat.

He tips you onto your back and follows suit, settling between your thighs. The morning sun covers him in gold, from the flecks in his irises and the strands in his curls to the tanned swell of his shoulders. He mouths at your collarbones, following the sweetheart neckline of your nightie, palming at your thighs.

A moan tangles from your lips as he flattens himself against your body, his bulge between your legs and his hot chest against your skin. 

Bradley dips his hand between your bodies and feels you finally. He sighs against your chest, smiling. “Oh, honey.” 

Your heartbeat thuds. His fingers graze your swollen clit and you jolt a bit, otherwise stuck to the spot by his weight. 

“No wonder you want me right here,” He murmurs, gathering your excitement on the tips of his fingers. “All worked up. Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got you.”

You drop your head back onto the pillows, feeling electricity rush through your middle as Bradley circles your clit with a featherlight touch. A whimper slips your mouth despite your best efforts, despite your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“I want to do it.” 

And then you have his attention. He looks up at you, his face stark and the smugness that had settled there all gone.

“Yeah?” He swallows, so hard already that he’s aching. Far from in the mind space to really disagree with you. His brows draw together. “It?” 

This time yesterday, you probably would have said no. Maybe even last night, you would have. 

This morning, it’s a breathless and desperate, “Yes.”

“I don’t —“ Bradley squeezes at your thigh and shakes his head. “Baby, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“It’s just one step further than this,” You tell him, convincing yourself as much as you’re convincing him. “Doesn’t make it any different. It doesn’t change what we’ve already done, right?”

In these past seven days, Malcolm has never felt as far away. After what he did, what he must have done, you’ve never felt as far from him as you do now. He’s probably been looking for a phone number to contact you, and you’re glad that he hasn’t found one.

You don’t want to speak to him. In this moment, all that you want is right in front of you.

“But…” He swallows thickly, trying not to be driven by how badly he wants this. He taps his thumb against your chin. “You’re — You’re sure, this is what you want?”

“Uh-huh.” 

He hesitates, planting a hand into the pillow beside your head. His face is knotted up and unsure. A week ago you had been crying in his arms after the biggest betrayal of your life. This can’t be the right thing to do.

He glances down, feeling your fingers brushing along the ridges of his abdomen. 

Your lip throbs with the weight of your teeth pressing into it as your fingers dip into the waistband of his white boxer shorts. Bradley’s breath catches as your fingers wrap around his hardened length.

“Please?”

A deep sound passes his lips. How’s a guy supposed to say no to that? He leans in slowly, capturing your lip between his, his tense body melting against yours.

He groans as he pulls away from your mouth and moves downward. Your hand slips from his underwear and finds purchase against his shoulder.

 He kisses down your cheek and your jaw, spilling dirty kisses along the naked span of your chest as far as the nightgown will let him as his hands bunch at the bottom hem of it.

Your mouth hangs as he hunches over and pins your thighs back.

Glistening in the warm glow of the room, you writhe and wriggle beneath Bradley as his strong hands pin you down, lazily swirling his tongue along your puffy, swollen clit. 

“I said — I want—“ You stumble, your brows knitting together.

“I know what you want,” Bradley interrupts, turning his head and kissing at your thigh, silencing you all together as he looks up at you with those big brown eyes. “There’s no rush. Right?”

You guess not. You don’t have time to guess at much before his broad shoulders force apart your thighs and his hot mouth blanks your mind.

A whine spills from somewhere deeper in your throat, coming right from the pit of your stomach. Bradley’s messy with his work, lapping eagerly between your legs as his middle finger teases at your dripping pussy. He hasn’t ever done it like this.

 It’s more desperate now, but like it’s easy for him, like he knows you. His chin drips with your excitement, leaving your thighs sticky and dampened with slick and saliva.

His hand slips between his hips and the mattress, wrapping loosely around his cock over his boxers, grinding his hips into his hand.

And then, three knocks rattle the heavy, old door to your right. 

Bradley stops, and sits back on his knees at once. Your face is colorless, eyes wide and round. He runs a hand over his wet mouth, and turns his head towards the sound.

“Fuck.” He exhales, his lips hinting at a smile. As much as he should look just as scared shitless as you do, something in him finds this a little bit funny.

He’s expecting it to be your new best buddies, wanting you to come down to breakfast with them. Already deciding that he can handle hiding behind the door while you get rid of them, Bradley couldn’t be cooler.

Three more knocks rattle the old door on its hinges, and Sandro calls out from the other side. “Bradley?” 

Instantly, the smile is wiped from Bradley’s face. 

You scramble to cover yourself and close your legs and move, not quite as aware of your surroundings as you could be. As Bradley goes to move at the same time, your knee lifts and catches him squarely in the balls.

Sandro pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he hears a loud, strained grunt come from inside.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I didn’t—“

Bradley lifts his face out of the pillow and swallows as he adjusts himself, exhaling heavily. “It’s fine. Fuck— what the hell is the matter with him?”

Matter with him in the sense that he is impolite enough to know exactly where Bradley is, and what that must mean, and to be knocking on the door anyway.

You watch as Bradley stumbles to his feet, clearly wounded, still clutching at his manhood as he picks up his jeans. 

“You can’t — you’re going to answer the door?” You panic. 

“What else do you want me to do? Hide?” He huffs, struggling to pull his jeans up his legs and button them.

“You could go out the window.” 

He shoots you a look, entirely unimpressed. You open your mouth to protest, left with no time to do anything but squeak softly in defeat as he pulls open the door an inch, blocking it with his body.

“What?” 

Sandro presses his lips together. He looks Bradley up and down. Disheveled, his curls a mess and still naked from the navel upward.

“There’s someone on the phone for you.” Sandro explains quietly. Bradley’s brows knit together as he starts to wonder who could possibly be trying to reach him this early in the morning. “Her father. I believe.” 

A quiet gasp comes from behind the door. Bradley closes it a little more, slotting himself into the gap.

“Cool. I’ll be right there.”

“Sure. He sounds upset.” Sandro lifts his palms and shrugs as he takes a step back from the door, his mouth twitching. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Ha. Ha.” Bradley answers, unimpressed.

He swings the door shut, and flattens himself back against the wood as he pinches at the bridge of his nose. You remain in the middle of the bed, your knees tucked up to your chest, your hand covering your mouth.

“Fuck me.” Bradley sighs, leaning his head back against the door. He stretches his hand into the pocket of his jeans and plucks his cigarettes from the pocket, shaking his head. “Does he have a monitor on you that I don’t know about?”

He almost makes you smile, but you’re wincing as you slip out of bed and stand up. 

“Let me speak with him,” You offer, walking nervously toward him. “He’s just going to be rude if he’s asking for you. I’ll handle it.” 

“And miss out on telling him what an incredible morning we had?” Bradley jokes, unlit cigarette wobbling between his lips as he steps around you and reaches for his shirt. You stumble mid-step, practically pouncing on him as you grab at his arm.

“No! You can’t tell him anything.” You plead.

Bradley turns and looks at you over his shoulder, brows furrowed in disbelief. 

“Believe it or not, honey — I’m not itching to have that talk with your dad. I was kidding.” He scoffs, pulling his t-shirt over his head and running his fingers messily through his hair. “You should pack your stuff. I’ll… see you later.”

“Wait!” You frown at him. “But we were…”

Bradley seems to remember his moment of insanity then — of how close he was to actually doing it just a moment ago, and blinks at you. He plucks the cigarette from his lips and leans forward to leave a passive kiss to your temple.

“Another time,” He sets it between his lips again and digs his left hand into his pocket for a lighter. “Gotta go.”

Another time. Gotta go. The door swings shut behind him and the smell of burning tobacco fills your nose as he light’s the cigarette out in the hallway. You hate that smell. You hate how casually he just moved on from that. And oh, you could kill Alessandro. 

“Hello?” Bradley pins the receiver between his ear and shoulder as he pulls the ashtray from the window ledge and flicks the tip of his cigarette toward it.

“That’s how you answer the phone? — You don’t introduce yourself, or ask who you’re speaking with? Mumbling over there—“

Bradley perches against the window and sets his cigarette back between his lips. “I know who I’m speaking with. Sir. How can I help you?” 

“I want to know what kind of operation you’re running over there. There’s no contact number for this place anywhere on the itinerary, and then when I do finally track down a number, I spend two days calling and get nothing but a dead line!”

“We had some bad weather, unfortunately it knocked out the power. Just got it back on last night, actually.” Bradley explains calmly. 

“And you think that’s acceptable? — What if it was an emergency?”

“Was it?” Bradley prompts. Maybe he has a little bit of an attitude, but he doesn’t like the way your father talks to people.

“You think you’re funny, son?”

No, generally Bradley doesn’t think that he’s too funny. He’s a lot of things, and he’s got a good sense of humour but he’s not funny like Robin Williams or Chevy Chase. But, Bradley’s got a special knack for always being able to get the last word.

“I think the house is five hundred years old and has some pretty questionable wiring. Was there something you needed me for?” 

“You know that I can have you fired?”

Bradley leans his head back and thunks it against the window frame. He can’t blame you for the attitude you catch when this is the guy you learned it from.

“In the interest of preserving my good friend’s phone bill, I’m just trying to be… concise, here.” Bradley answers, flicking more ash into the tray. If this phone call keeps going the way that it is, Bradley figures he’ll be chain smoking through until the afternoon.

“My son-in-law has been trying to get through to my daughter. He’s… worried about her. Has she said anything to you?”

Said something pretty interesting to me earlier, Bradley thinks. Right around the time she stuck her hand in my shorts.

“No, sir. Maybe her friends, but not me,” Bradley gives the answer you would want him to give. “We’re headed to Siena this afternoon and the city’s a lot more reliable for communication and stuff. I can have her call you once we’re there?”

“No. Don’t tell her that I called.” Your father decides. Bradley doesn’t mention that you already know, because he was in your room when he was informed. “What’s the number for this place?”

“I don’t have it on me. I can take down your number and I’ll call you from the hotel when we get there.”

“Not very organised for a college professor, are you, champ?”

Bradley wets his lips with his tongue and presses them together. He spends as little time on the phone as he possibly can, resenting your father’s every word. He likes the thought of Malcolm sitting at home and tearing his hair out, worrying.

He likes the thought of that little dirtbag being kept awake at night, terrified that you know what he did and that you’ll leave him. It’s what he deserves.

Bradley likes that you fell asleep in his arms last night, peacefully, and that you woke up this morning and found yourself comfortable enough to ask for what you had. Your fiancé probably didn’t cross your mind.

He goes for his morning run a little later than normal, after his phone call, and thinks about what you had said.

He shouldn’t have agreed to it as quickly as he had, maybe. It should have required more thought, and discussion — better place or time, perhaps. 

He had been so adamantly against it, but this is starting to feel different. It’s more than a few kisses here and there. It’s Bradley enjoying feeling your weight in his arms when he sleeps, and looking forward to your smile when he wakes up.

It’s better, with him. Your first time would be better with him — and he doesn’t even mean that in an overconfident way. He just knows that he and Malcolm are far from the same, and that Malcolm could never treat you the way that Bradley does so naturally.

Bradley decides that he won’t initiate anything other than a discussion on the topic of sex. As much as he does want it, he could go for months without it. And this has to be your call. But, he doesn’t want to know what sparked the idea into your head this morning.

If you ask him again, he already knows that he would do it.

By the time he has finished with your father and with his run, it’s almost time to go. The group of eight of you are spread around the mini-can, bags loaded and waiting for Bradley while Pasquale sits in the front. It’s a really short drive today. Just over an hour to the other side of the city.

“Did anyone else get their assignments back late all the time?” Abigail muses as she lays across the three backseats of the van. You’re sitting a row in front of her, fiddling with your Walkman.

“Even when I was TA’ing, and I’d get my grading in on time, Bradley still gave everyone their results back like a week later.” Robin agrees.

“Yeah, ‘cause he was too busy slipping it to Miss Penny all year.” Luke scoffs without looking up from his chapter on bathhouses, his arms stretched around Robin’s middle as she sits on his lap. 

Instinct almost has you whipping around to look at him. Common sense has you gripped to the spot, staring at the little plastic contraption . You blink furiously at the cassette tape in front of you.

Miss Penny. Who the hell is Miss Penny? Granted, you hadn’t spent too much time wandering the humanities building, but you’re affronted to not be able to picture this mystery woman nonetheless.

“No— Miss Penny? No. Please, like Bradley would ever tell you who he’s screwing.” August — Gus —, the only other guy in your little group of eight, scoffs towards Luke. He’s standing outside of the van, leaning up against the doorframe.

“And if he was making it with anyone, it was for sure Doctor Hayes. Have you seen the two of them talking? — Man, even I felt the tension.” Zoe decides.

Screwing. Slipping it to. Making it.

And now the introduction of Doctor Hayes. 

At least this woman you have heard of; she’s an anthropology professor, and she certainly wasn’t making it with Bradley — she’s happily involved with a woman.

 It was a big point of conversation in your household. The news came to light just before your father was going to make a donation, she visited him personally to ensure that her romantic indiscretions wouldn’t affect his generosity.

If Bradley wasn’t screwing Doctor Hayes, then he probably wasn’t—

“You’re right, they were probably just friends,” Luke shrugs, again without looking up from the book. It should soothe you, but it doesn’t. It’s an arrogant thing, the way he knows everyone’s waiting on his every word, so he doesn’t have to lift his gaze to engage. “Doesn’t change the fact I saw them going at it in his office.”

 When you look up you’re startled by Robin already looking at you, like she just stole the crayon you’ve been waiting for and she’s waiting for your tantrum to begin.

You glance across at Luke instead, who is still staring smugly at his chapter.

They already think that Bradley is screwing you, maybe they’re making it up to get a reaction. 

You muster the calmest look that you can, and flip back a page in your notes, pretending that you’re reviewing the material.

You haven’t ever been to Bradley’s office. There’s a vague understanding of approximately where it is that comes with having spent four years wandering those halls, but in a pinch you would be guessing at exactly where.

 You don’t know what his desk looks like, or if he’s got one of those frosted glass window panes in the door, or maybe it’s just a heavy wood door without a window.

 Some of the old rooms still have those. They’re heavy and creaky and your daddy’s donations are eradicating them one by one.

Those big, heavy, creaky doors would do wonders for someone in need of privacy. As your eyes fall shut to blink, you’re met with a split-second snapshot of Luke nudging it open. 

After hours, after a day of tough lessons. Bradley all stressed with that red flush across his chest that he gets when stuff is really starting to get to him. Miss Penny, in her mysterious shroud of fog… perched against his desk— or worse— bent over it.

You swallow. 

“No you did not.” Abigail declares with a wrinkled face, not believing the dirty little story for a moment.

You would like to not believe it either. 

“Uh-huh. It was when I was TA’ing, I came by to drop off some papers. She was sat on his desk with her back to the door and he was just—“

“Gross, I don’t want to hear about Bradley getting his rocks off with the librarian.” Zoe complains.

The librarian. Miss Penny is the fucking librarian. She has permed hair and cat-eye glasses, a skirt shorter than faculty standard allows too. She made you pay eight dollars in late fees one time. She’s like a decade older than Bradley, maybe fifteen years. 

Your nose wrinkles as you turn your head to peer in the direction of the kitchen. Why her? Why—

“Alright, everybody ready to go?” Bradley has said his long goodbyes to the Gabris family, always wishing he got longer with them, even if Sandro did cockblock him this morning.

He climbs into the passenger seat as an awkward silence fills the van. Everyone takes their seats and stares ahead at him. He turns his head to peer back over his shoulder, frowning in confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing, man,” Luke answers coolly as Robin slides into the seat next to him. “You’re paranoid.”

Another time. Gotta go. You bet he was that casual with Miss Penny, too. With however many other women he might have been with. You set your headphones over your ears and turn toward the window. 

It’s ridiculous, maybe, to be jealous of women that knew Bradley far before you could ever stand to be in the same room as him. But this isn’t jealousy, per se. It’s something else. You don’t doubt that Miss Penny didn’t mean much to him, you just… were hoping that you meant more, maybe. 

The drive is short, and you’re piling into another old, crumbling hotel on the outskirts of Siena as the sun is just starting to set. You follow the crowd into the lobby and Bradley starts his normal routine of collecting the keys.

At first, you’re chatting with Zoe, and nothing feels different. Then, you catch something in your peripheral. Glancing down, your eyes widen and your train of thought ventures away.

“My ring.” You realise, setting your suitcase down on the faded carpet of the lobby. Bradley turns around, and finds you staring at your bare hand. 

“I don’t have my ring.” You haven’t worn that thing since the first day you got there. Bradley has noticed every single day that you haven’t had it. 

“What?” Pasquale frowns, looking between you and your hand.

“My engagement ring!” You snap at him. Everyone, at once, stops to look. Bradley stares at you. “I don’t— I must have left it! We have to go back.”

“Jesus Christ.” Luke scoffs, rolling his eyes as he drops down onto the couch. He figures he could be here a while, while you’re descending into hysterics.

After speaking to your father, Bradley figured he knows why you’re so upset. If you come home without that thing, he would give you the worst lecture known to man, or worse than that, even.

“I’ll call Sandro, and see—“ He takes two steps towards you, his face soft.

“No, I need to get it back. Now. We have to go back.”

“Mr. Bradshaw has a meeting here tomorrow, very early.” Pasquale chips in from beside you.

“I don’t care! I can’t believe I left it— Malcolm’s going to kill me if I tell him I don’t have it. What am I supposed to tell him? — That I took it off?”

You’re not thinking about your father, or getting into trouble with him. Bradley stops moving. You’re thinking about your fiancé. 

Bradley has been comforting you, and singing to you, and kissing you for a week straight — not once thinking that you might one day want to wear that ring again. 

This morning, he had been fooling himself on his run, thinking that this was anything more than fooling around. That he meant anything to you at all. That you understood him. 

He stares at you, finding none of those feelings he had thought you felt this morning. Or last night, or this whole past week.

Nothing but blind panic, because you weren’t smart enough to double check you had everything.

“Didn’t you?” Robin asks.

“Just for a second! I— I — didn’t mean to.” You struggle, eyes wide and fleeting between Bradley and Pasquale.

That’s not true. You took it off because he hurt you. You haven’t worn it in seven days. You didn’t even think about it this morning when you had packed your things, or before that when Bradley had been in your bed.

You’re growing agitated, and so is Bradley. A muscle in his jaw ticks. You meant to take off that ring, and maybe you can’t admit to yourself that you meant to leave it behind. 

“Maybe they could mail it—“ Pasquale tries.

“Do you seriously expect me to go home without it?” You’re looking at Bradley still, like this is his fault somehow. Like he’s the one who took it off of your finger. Your expression turns cold. “That ring is worth more than you make in a year!”

Bradley’s expression flattens. No hurt, no anger. Just pure detachment. He holds his hand out towards Pasquale.

“Give me the keys.”

“But, Bradley, you have—“

“Give me the fucking keys,” Bradley snaps. Zoe flinches at your side, and you feel her looking at you. Pasquale awkwardly drops the keys into Bradley’s open palm. “I’m going to get the ring, if it’ll shut her up.”

Your mouth closes, lips pressing firmly together. 

“I’ll—“

“You stay right there.” Bradley bites. He can’t think of anything worse than being stuck in a van with you for the next two and a half hours. Without looking, he squeezes the keys into his palm and heads for the door. 

With him gone, you’re the only thing for them all to look at. 

None of them knew exactly what was going on between you and Bradley this whole time, but they’re all certain of the same thing now: whatever it was, they all just witnessed the end of it.

tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @cassiemitchele @himbos-on-ice @wkndwlff @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @cherrycola27 @kmc1989 @sugarcoated-lame @mshistorylover

[ad-caelestia]

Spell Casting - Weather

Correspondences for various meteorological and astronomical phenomena.

Lightning Storms - power, manifestation, cursing, protection

Rainstorms - cleansing, healing, compassion, release

Snowstorms - balance, stillness, cleansing, transformation, letting go

Dense Fog - invisibility, stasis, mysticism, shielding

Heavy Wind - travel, study, intellect, breaking bad habits

Searing Hot Days - courage, protection, strength, energy

Meteor Showers - power, catalyst, wishes

Solar & Lunar Eclipses - banishing, destruction, shadow work / unveiling, divination, revealing truths

© 2024 ad-caelestia

[ralkana]

Fluffbruary, Day 3

February 3: umbrella | seashore | mist

Dream of the Endless / Hob Gadling

Rated G

-----

They are in the Dreaming. His stranger has returned to him, and called him friend, named himself Dream, and they have since met a score of times. They have exchanged stories, traded smiles, shared wine and confidences, and his stranger, his friend, Dream, expressed a wish to show Hob his home. His realm.

So here they stand. He knows he is curled up on his bed in his flat, sleeping deeply, but he is also here. A beautiful sunny day, a gorgeous meadow, a light breeze.

"How does it work?" Hob asks, curious, always curious, and even more so when it comes to anything to do with his friend, his - well. Anything to do with Dream.

"You are a dreamer, and you are here at my request," Dream tells him. "This world, my realm, is for the dreamers. You only need wish, and whatever you wish for will be at hand."

"But you - you've said you are the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is you."

"Yes. That is a simplified answer, but fundamentally correct."

Hob grins. "I'm a simple man, my friend."

Dream's smile is small but fond. "You are anything but, Hob Gadling."

"So if you are the Dreaming, and I ask for something, it is you who provides it, yes?"

" - Yes." Dream's hesitation is brief, so brief it might be missed by anyone who hasn't spent every minute in his presence hungrily studying him. "If I so choose."

"Hmm," Hob says, considering. He does not wish to ask for anything his friend might not freely give. He has wondered lately, what the limits there might be. He thinks those limits may have changed, might be changing still.

In the real world - in the waking, he thinks carefully, a concept Dream has taught him. This world he inhabits now is no less real. In the waking, it is midwinter, cold and dreary, and he has longed for a reprieve.

"This is the kind of day fit for a warm summer rainstorm," he says, and laughs in delight as the clear sky slowly fills with clouds, wispy at first and then heavy with promise. There is a rumble of distant thunder, and then the patter of gentle rain.

Hob laughs again and lifts his face to it, closing his eyes as he feels the raindrops slide through his hair, caress his cheeks.

He opens his eyes, eager to see his friend in the rain, to see it slide down his nose, drip off his chin. Dream, of course, is completely dry in the midst of the rain, though it puddles at his feet and bends the grass around him.

"You are a wonder," Hob says, in awe of the power his friend so casually displays.

Dream's eyes widen at the words, and his fond smile tucks slightly, almost shy. Diffident, it would have been called once - that word has mostly fallen out of favor, and Hob could never have imagined it applied to his stranger. But this is no longer his stranger.

"Should you not wish for an umbrella, now?" Dream asks, his voice catching as Hob lifts his arms to the sky, runs his fingers through his dripping hair. "Or shelter from the rain?"

"No," Hob tells him, watching him through the rain, feeling it settle into his clothes, the drops sliding down his body. "I want to feel it on my skin."

You are the Dreaming, he thinks. And the Dreaming is you. I want to feel you on my skin.

Dream draws in a sharp breath, and Hob shivers as he watches his eyes darken, grow hungry. His long fingers flutter, as if to reach, to clutch, before curling into fists. Holding himself back. Denying himself.

There is no need for that, my Dream, he thinks.

"I wish," he says, but he falters. He is sure. He is sure of what he wants, and he is sure of what Dream wants, but he was sure before, and the cost was great.

Cool fingers brush his cheek, and he gasps. Dream is so near Hob can see the glitter of galaxies in his eyes. The rain falls on him now, in his dark lashes and on the pale perfection of his skin.

"What do you wish for?" Dream murmurs, his voice so low it feels like it is merely an ache in Hob's chest.

Everything you wish to give, he thinks.

"A kiss," he says, and the sun breaks through the clouds once more as their lips meet.

END

-----

Thanks to @fluffbruary for the inspiration!

[foxscarf]

26.05.24

Back at it! Was so blessed by heavy rainstorms and thunder all afternoon, so I decided to stay in and love it from my cosy desk rather than traveling to work or the library to write as I'd planned. ⛈️

The one time I didn't feel the need to play my rain and storm sounds videos while studying!! 🖤

(meanwhile I seem to be having a moment for pink in my stationery.)

38/100 days of productivity

[wiseavenuecloud]

Gentle rain at night (with calm piano melody) 11 minutes

[hyperactively-me]

hi!!

i love your work with king ghost and i was wondering if you could potentially write a future wedding scene for the two, as i know that the main character wasnt happy with how it went and now that they’re all lovey dovey maybe they could recreate the wedding but ensure that they are both happy with how it goes?

xoxo

i was honestly super self indulgent in this. i’m not ashamed. also i'm pretty proud of this. peace and love!

You sit across from Simon at the dinner table, the soft glow of candles casting shadows on the walls. The clink of silverware against porcelain creates an ambience, but there’s something weighing heavy on your mind. 

Reminiscing on the past few months of your relationship with Simon was like a shot of espresso to your system. After falling irrevocably in love with each other, there was a slight gnawing sensation at your heart. You were brought back to your wedding day. God, you despised that day. Thinking about it now made your heart ache. You take a breath, the idea stirring in your mind like an impending rainstorm.

Finally, you break the silence. “Simon,” you start tentatively, “can we talk about something?”

He looks up from his plate, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of curiosity and concern. “Hm?”

“Let’s redo our wedding.”

He stops eating for a moment, fork hovering in the air.

“What?”

“Let’s redo our wedding,” you restate. “I mean, we both despised it, right?”

He sets his fork down. 

“It was too big, too forced,” you say carefully, studying his face for any reactions. 

Simon’s expression shifts from confusion to understanding, and then to a contemplative gaze. He absorbs your words, the weight of shared dissatisfaction settling between you like a fragile pact.

“You really think we should?” he asks, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

Nodding, you continue, “I want something that feels like us, not some show for people we barely know. I don’t want it to be a performance for others, like how it was originally.” You take a breath. “And, then, we weren’t in love,” you nearly whisper.

Simon’s heart clenches in his chest. 

He reaches across the table, his hand finding yours. “You’re right,” he admits. “What do you have in mind?”

A smile tugs at your lips as ideas race through your mind. 

. . .

As you both delve into planning, the anticipation of a redo makes your heart sing. You had dedicated most of your free time to coming up with plans, a guest list, a location, a cake, and of course, a dress. The prospect of another wedding becomes more than just a contract agreement; it’s a renewal of your love for each other.

The biggest topic weighing on your mind, though, was writing your vows. You wanted something simple, yet meaningful, pulling elements of your relationship with Simon that resonates with your relationship. 

The days leading up to the wedding redo were a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. Together, you and Simon poured over every detail, making sure that this time, it truly reflected a union of love. The guest list was trimmed down to include only those who held a special place in your hearts. Your siblings had been invited, prime guests. You had also invited your tutors, a few guards and maids you had become friendly with, some fellow noble people you had grown up with who you had shared fond memories with. Simon had also invited friends, namely Soap, Price, Gaz, Alejandro, and Rudy. The location was in the palace gardens, surrounded by your favorite flowers and billowy trees, a stark contrast to the grand chapel of your first wedding.

You had asked your eldest sibling to walk you down the aisle. You thought back to how you walked down the aisle alone in the chapel all those months ago. You shudder, but proud that you were still able to overcome it in the moment, no matter how scared you were at the time. 

Simon had, unbeknownst to you, fashioned you both new wedding rings. Kastron was widely known for its richly abundant silver mines, so much so that the economy would not function properly if something were to happen to the silver. He had fashioned himself a thick, simple silver band, and you a silver band with a fat diamond encrusted on it. Only the best, most beautiful ring for his beautiful wife. 

. . . 

As the date approached, you found yourself standing in front of a mirror, admiring the elegant dress you had chosen. It wasn’t something you were forced to wear, just a gown that made you feel like yourself. It was tailored perfectly to your body, accentuating your frame in the most flattering manner. Your hair and makeup was what you wanted, not like some done-up cakey…thing, you were before. Your veil was long but not obnoxious, pearls strewn about the thin fabric, sewn to perfection. 

You looked perfect. The maids fluttering about you had cooed at you, complimenting how beautiful and perfect you look. You thank them warmly, your vision of your outfit becoming a reality thanks to them. 

Emerging from your room, you find your sibling waiting patiently in the hallway. As you step out, they rise to their feet, a smile blossoming on their face at the sight of you. 

“You look amazing!” they exclaim, giving you a tight hug. 

“Thank you,” you say warmly, fluffing out your dress. 

“Oh, by the way, here's your bouquet,” they offer the bouquet in their hands to you, and you accept it delicately from their grasp. It was crafted by one of your younger siblings, adding another personal touch to the wedding.

“Are you ready?” your sibling asks, bumping their shoulder against yours. 

“I’ve never been more ready in my life,” you smile, taking a deep breath. 

With the bouquet in hand, you make your way to the garden, the soft rustle of the veil and the delicate fragrance of the flowers creating a cocoon of joy around you. You peer out a window next to the doors to the garden. You see all of your loved ones outside, sitting in the rows of chairs set outside. Flowers adorned practically every square foot of the garden, ribbons fluttered gently in the wind, and streamers hung from the trees, creating a dreamy, white wedding. 

Your sibling holds their arm out for you, and you take it, squeezing them close against you. Arm in arm with your sibling, you take a moment to soak in the anticipation. The air is filled with a mixture of nerves and excitement, and the vibrant energy of the garden beckons you forward.

As you step through the doors, the soft melodies of a small orchestra fills the air. The garden is a vision of ethereal beauty. The sun casts a warm glow over the scene, and a hush falls over the small crowd. The guests turn to look, their expressions shifting from idle chatter to a quiet awe.

You catch Simon's eyes, and a warmth passes between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the significance of this moment. Simon, adorned in his silver Kastron armor and numerous military awards, looked at you with a warmth in his eyes that spoke volumes. Tears immediately prick the corners of your eyes the moment you make eye contact with Simon. You take another deep breath, willing your emotions to stay at bay until the right moment. He’s standing under an arch of flowers where your vows will be exchanged. His face lights up with a mixture of relief and admiration as he sees you. The love in his eyes reassures you that this moment is everything you both hoped for.

Walking down the aisle, you feel every step, every beat of your heart echoing in the air. The fragrance of flowers envelops you, and the sounds of nature seem to harmonize with the melodies playing softly in the background.

Reaching the top, you share a tender moment with Simon as he extends his hand to you, guiding you to stand in front of him, and your sibling takes their place among the other attendees. The officiant begins the ceremony, weaving words that echo the journey of love. Simon doesn’t take his eyes off you once, studying every inch of your face. Now, to exchange the vows. The part you were most excited for. You clear your throat. 

“Simon, from this day forward, I promise to laugh with you in joy, comfort you in sorrow, and cherish our moments together. I vow to be your partner in all things, stand by your side with love and unwavering support. With you, I've found my home, my heart, and my forever. Today, I choose you, and every day after, I will choose us.” You flash a teary smile, grasping onto Simon’s hands. He’s just staring at you, completely and utterly infatuated with you. He’s so in love. 

“And, for the groom,” the officiant says, nudging Simon out of his trance. Simon stands up straighter and clears his throat. 

"My dove, today and always, I promise to stand by you. I promise to support your dreams, celebrate your triumphs, and navigate life's challenges together.” He pauses suddenly, swallowing thickly. You squeeze his hands tighter, smiling at him encouragingly. He takes a breath and resumes, “I choose you as my partner, my confidant, and my queen. With you, every day is an adventure, and I eagerly look forward to a lifetime of love and happiness."

You can’t stop the stray tear that falls down your cheek. Simon swipes the pad of his finger over your cheek, smiling softly at you. 

The officiant smiles warmly before continuing. “Now, as a symbol of your commitment to each other, you will exchange rings.”

Simon takes a step back, retrieving a small box from the officiant. Opening it, he reveals two gleaming silver rings nestled inside. You marvel at the simplicity and elegance of the bands, symbols of a promise that transcends words. 

“Made ‘em myself,” he whispers to you, watching you marvel at the diamond on your ring.

“They’re absolutely stunning, Si,” you whisper back, tracing your finger over the diamond. 

Simon gently takes your hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As he slides the ring onto your finger, he meets your gaze with an intensity that speaks volumes. The cool silver warms against your skin, a tangible reminder of this sacred moment. 

You reach for the box now, fingers trembling with emotion. With a heartfelt smile, you look into Simon's eyes as you slip the ring onto his finger. The circle completes, a symbol of unending love and commitment.

The officiant continues, “By the power vested in me and the love that you've declared today, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

Simon's eyes light up, and he cups your face gently, brushing your hair out of your face before drawing you into a deep kiss. He wraps his arms around your torso, leaning you back into a dip as he kisses you, pulling a small giggle from you as he dips you. Your arms reach around Simon’s neck, pulling him into you with a smile. 

The cheers and applause from your loved ones surround you, but in this moment, it feels like time has paused, and it's just the two of you, lost in your love.

As you break the kiss, you find that your cheeks ache from smiling. Simon brushes away the tear that lingers on your cheek, and you share a tender gaze that says more than words ever could.

“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, pressing onto your tiptoes. Simon pulls you closer to him, 

his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. “I love you, too,” he whispers back, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

The ceremony concludes with cheers and applause, and you and Simon walk hand in hand, now officially united. The garden, adorned with love and laughter, fills you with nothing but pure bliss. 

The reception is a whirlwind of joy and celebration, filled with toasts, dancing, and the laughter of family and friends. In the midst of it all, you steal moments with Simon, your happiness never once diminishing for the rest of the day. 

As the night arrives and the stars emerge in the sky, you find yourselves alone for a moment. The garden had now been decorated with lanterns and candles, filling the night sky with a gentle orange glow. Simon pulls you into an embrace, and under the moonlight, you both marvel at the beauty of the day. 

“This day was nothing but perfect, dove,” Simon drawls, rubbing his hand up and down your back soothingly.

“I know,” you sigh contentedly. “I’m so happy, Si. I can’t even begin to explain how happy I am.” 

Simon pulls you against him tighter, his warmth enveloping you like a protective shield.

“I'm happy too, darling,” Simon murmurs, his voice a melodic reassurance.

As you both sway gently under the lantern-lit sky, the world outside your embrace seems to fade away. The lanterns overhead cast a dreamy glow, and the night seems to hold its breath, savoring your love.

“I love you, Simon,” you whisper, your words a promise that lingers in the air.

“I love you, too,” he replies, his voice a gentle echo.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[relaxedbybakar]

Heavy Rainstorm Sounds for Relaxing, Study or Deep Sleep | Nature Rain S...

[shujohajohaminnie]

I've been watching you

Pairing: Lee Felix x fem!reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count:3140

Summary: Crushes were something everyone experienced right, but how could someone explain something more obsessive?

Afab!reader, Profanity, Degrading, Possessive behavior, Stalker, Obsessive behavior, pet names (Baby, Pretty, Honey, Good Girl), Raw Sex. 

Felix was tired…he was so frustrated, all he wanted to do was go home and wrap his fist around his cock, getting off to yet again another picture of you. You were the only thing that could make him feel better. Just seeing you was like the medicine his body needed craved. He loved to hear your voice, he loved to hear you laugh, he loved to watch as you concentrated on your work while sipping your coffee, just seeing you in such a state of peace made him feel at peace. You were the only reason he continued to put up with this stupid job. He still had six hours left of shift and he honestly felt like he couldn’t do it anymore. He heard the bell that was attached to the door ring, and he rolled his eyes. Yet another customer he had to deal with. 

“Hey, Y/n” Felix’s head whipped up at the mention of your name. He wasn’t expecting you at all, it was Tuesday, you didn’t have classes on Tuesday. “It’s crazy out there” You smiled taking off your sweater beginning to talk with Chan, Felix’s co-worker. That fucking smile. Oh, how you lit up the place with that smile alone. Felix took you in analyzing how drenched you were due to the heavy rainstorm outside. His mind drifting off to where else you were wet.  Why would you come here when you could've just stayed in your apartment? “What are you doing here” Chan asked, almost as if he had read Felix’s mind.  “Oh, I was studying in the park… I have a big test tomorrow but then it started to rain and I didn’t wanna go home yet so I just figured I’d finish studying here” “Well you know you’re always welcome here… Felix will help you at the counter” Felix ears perked up at the mention of his name. “You can help her right Felix?” “Uh, I-” “I would do it but I have to go clean up the mess Jisung made in the back”. Felix nodded quickly approaching the counter with a nervous smile. You approached him moving slowly, in his point of view it was like those scenes in the movies where the pretty girls would move slowly towards the camera. “Hey… I like your bracelet”  You spoke softly trying to break the tension. That was the first sentence you’ve ever said to him directly. “T-thanks” He cleared his throat coming back to earth. He looked down at his notepad noticing the emptyness. “Oh OH what could I get for you” “Coffee…black please”  “Okay…could I interest you in some pastries” “What do you have?” “Cookies. Muffins, Brownies, and Cake pops” “ How fresh are they” “I made them this morning” “You made them?!” “Yeah” he blushed scratching the back of his neck. “Are they as sweet as you are” You joked, your hand laying on top of his as you looked at his face. “Oh uhhh” “I’m just playing with you Felix… Could I get a brownie please” “Of course” He smiled putting in your order. “How much is it” “On the house” “Really” “Mhmm” “Are you sure” “Positive”. Felix walked away to prepare your order, he was on cloud nine, his crush was talking to him, and in his delusional head, you asked him if he was sweet implying that you wanted to taste him. 

You made your way to your usual table hid away in the corner where it was silent, where you could really concentrate. You pulled out your computer and textbooks continuing where you left off before you were interrupted by the weather. “Y/n” He spoke softly pulling you out of your daze, looking up at his beautiful face you smiled pulling out your headphones. “Sorry I didn’t mean to bother you, I just wanted to warn you that this was really hot, so you wouldn’t burn yourself” “Thank you” You reached out pulling the cup out of his hands bushing your fingers against his. “H-how are your Psychology studies” He stuttered at the contact. Fuck, you never told him you were going to school, much less what you studied. He sold himself- “ Y-You’ve been watching me?” “I-I saw your psych textbook one of the times you were here” “I get it… I like to watch people too… It’s interesting” Was he normal in his watching, was this something everyone did? “Watching their routines… I mean I do study people for school so… it’s not in a creepy way”. So it wasn’t normal. “But my Psych studies are going good thank you”

“Alright” You mumbled closing your laptop and putting away your papers. You felt a headache from the intense light emitting from your computer and decided to call it a night content on your study session and confident about tomorrow's test. “Leaving already” Chan smiled wiping the table in front of you. “Yeah I gotta go to bed early or else I’ll be too tired and all that time spent studying would’ve been for nothing… but I’m just gonna go to the restroom really quick before I leave” “Go ahead I’ll clean up your table while your off don’t worry about it” 

“Chan please” “Felix you can’t just leave early who’s going to cover for you” “Han said he’ll stay for me please please please” “Why do you wanna leave early anyways” “I- I have something I have to do” Chan sighed pinching the top of his nose as he thought about the sudden request. 

“Fine” He sighed waving off Felix as he continued cleaning the counter. “Thank you thank you thank you” Felix smiled running to the back to clock out and grab his stuff quickly before Chan could change his mind. “Oh leaving already?” He asked you opening the door to the cafe for you. You nodded walking by him. Oh that perfume, how it drove him absolutely insane. “Yeah, I have to rest up for my-” “Test?... I heard you tell Chan when you walked in” “Yeah” “I could walk you” “I’m sorry?” “I could walk you to your place… you know it’s dark out, and you're alone. I don’t want nothing to happen to you” “No no it’s okay I don’t want you to go out of your way” “I won’t swear my place is in that direction as well” “Are you sure” “Positive” Liar

The both of you walked side by side under the pouring rain in a comfortable silence. Bumping into each other occasionally followed with a toothy grin. The both of you were completely drenched but what was there to do? Finally, you stopped in front of your apartment building looking at Felix. “This is me” he knows “Okay well I hope you have a good night and good luck on your test tomorrow” He smiled walking away waiting for you to say the word. “Wait” There it was. “Felix… you should come inside… wait out the rain, you’ll get sick” “Are you sure” “Yeah come inside and dry off, I’ll make you a hot tea to warm you up” He smiled following you to your front door, and here it was. He looked around your apartment it was the first time he was in here with your permission. The first time he’d seen it with the light on. The other times he had to get by with the light off to not draw attention to himself. 

“I’m just going to go change really quick” You spoke in a whisper no need to speak too loudly due to the close proximity of you two. Bringing Felix to realize that he was in here with you. You smiled placing the hot cup of tea in front of him and walking away into your bedroom. He looked at your walls. He hadn’t noticed the art that hung on them, they were hard to see in the darkness that overcame your home at night. You walked out of your room in a long white shirt that hid the tiny shorts you were wearing underneath. Drying your hair with your towel you went into the kitchen like he wasn’t in front of you. Was he looking through the window again? “Do you want something else to drink?” You asked noticing he finished his tea already.  “Just water please” He cleared his throat, bouncing his leg nervously at the sight of you with minimal clothing. “Didn’t get enough water outside” You laughed as you handed him a glass of water. His eyes looked up at your body stopping when he noticed your nipples poking from under the shirt. “Felix you should get out of your clothes… you gonna get sick… I can throw them in the dryer for you” “But I don’t have any other clothes” “It’s fine” you stuck out your hand. He looked at you to make sure you were serious. You were. He quickly peeled off his clothes sitting back down on the couch. “You can cover yourself with that blanket if you want” You said taking his clothes and walking in the direction of your laundry room. 

You returned to see him snuggled up underneath the blanket watching the movie you put on. “You know… just to make things even” You smiled taking off your shirt and shorts leaving you as naked as he was. “Uhm” “Kinda cold in here isn’t it?” You whispered sitting down next to him. Very close to him. You lifted the blanket covering yourself as well. He froze feeling your bare skin against his own. You turned your attention to the TV not fazed by what was happening as if this was a normal occurrence for you. You turned back to look at him and giggled at his face of confusion. “You okay” “Y-You’re naked” he stated saying it more so to himself. “Nothing you haven't seen before" "What" "I know you’ve been watching me” “You do” “Why do you think I touch myself over the covers… it’s so you can see just how wet you make me…You can touch me” You whispered running your nail on top of his hand that was sitting politely on top of his thigh. “I can?”  “Mhmm” 

Little did Felix know that you knew he was there. You knew he was watching you. You noticed how some of your underwear went missing. You noticed the camera flashing every single time he took a picture of you when he thought you were sleeping. You noticed his eyes watching you through your bedroom window. That's why you openly walked around naked around your apartment. It was for his peeping eyes to see you. To see what was his. He didn’t move so you took it upon yourself to take his hand and put it on your pleading core. “Y-your still wet from the rain?” You shook your head biting your lip. “No lixie… this is for you. You did this to me. You do this to me” You whispered into his ear kissing his jaw down to his neck. He still didn’t move not believing this was actually happening right now. “Please Lixie touch me… please” You begged leaving hot wet kisses on his neck causing his skin to burn underneath. “Please tell me this is real” “It’s real Felix” You got closer your lips ghosting over his own. “Please” You whined before kissing him. The switch flipped as he grabbed you placing you in his lap the blanket shielding the two of you as if hiding from the world, but the reality was that you always touched yourself above the blanket for him to see but now that he was here with you, you didn’t need to show anyone anything. Quickly he kissed your collarbone sucking on your skin leaving behind marks. His marks. 

One thing that drove Felix mad was the fact that he couldn’t show the world that you were his. He knew men around you were constantly hitting on you, he seen it. He so badly wanted to fuck you in front of them, all of them to show them who you belonged to. These hickies will show them, show them all that you are not to be hit on. His finger trailed down your body as his mouth kissed lower, placing butterfly kisses on your tits. “Your mine” he mumbled against your skin as his fingers drew slow circles on your clit teasing you. “Felix” You gasped your fingers tugging his hair slightly. “Say it. Say it” “I’m yours… I’m all yours” You cried at his motions begging for more. “And don't you forget it” he whispered kissing your lips before his fingers slipped into your sopping cunt. His thumb continued to draw those slow damn circles as he fingered you. You moaned throwing your head back at the sudden pleasure. Your hands dragged down his abs down to his throbbing dick. You teased the tip by spreading the precum that was already oozing out. “Fuck Y/n I need you” “Not yet” You smiled getting off his lap and kneeling in front of him. He groaned from the sight alone. You in front of him sitting pretty on your knees ready to suck him off. It was like a scene plucked directly from his dreams. “Is this okay” “This is more than okay baby” He moaned feeling your hand wap around his dick not being able to grasp the whole thing from how girthy he was. His cock was singlehandedly the prettiest yet scariest dick you’ve ever seen. Scary, intimidating the way you analyzed the length and girth knowing he was going to wreck you, and you honestly couldn't wait. You licked the tip noticing the way his eyes rolled back and more precum oozed out. He could cum from the sight of you alone but he had to wait, he had to wait for you. You licked from the base to the tip before you took him into your mouth fitting as much as you could. 

He felt tears forming in his eyes at the intense pleasure he was feeling at this moment. The way the tip of his dick touched the back of our throat. The way you hallowed your cheeks around him. The warmth he felt from your mouth. The way you sent vibrations through his dick when you moaned or giggled around him. He grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail guiding you up and down his cock. He noticed the tears streaming down your face and that only drove him to go faster. “You like that baby… Do you like me treating you like a cock slut… cry on my dick… cry on my dick pretty” he grunted thrusting into your mouth feeling his orgasm draw close. 

“Fuck y/n” he moaned throwing his head back as he painted the inside of your mouth white with his cum. You pulled away swallowing while wiping your tears. He pulled you up quickly kissing your lips. He needed to taste himself on your lips. “You taste so good Felix… but you’d taste better mixed with me” You smiled, positioning yourself over his cock. He put his hands on your waist looking into your eyes. “Are you sure?” “Positive”. He smiled, pulling you down onto him. You felt such a beautifully painful stretch as he filled you up. You both moaned at the feeling. You wrapped your arms around his neck hugging him close. “Y-you feel so good” He moaned, hugging you tightly, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your back as you adjusted around him. “Felix” You moaned trying to go up and down, against his hold on your waist. “You ready” He spoke in his deep voice sending chills down your spine. You nodded, placing your head in the crook of his neck. 

He guided you up and down on his dick both of your moans filling up the space of your apartment. Not really caring for your poor neighbors who had to bear witness to the erotic noises the both of you were making. He flipped you both over him taking control of the speed he would thrust in and out of you. The new position driving you insane the way the tip of his dick grazed your G-Spot perfectly. “Felix please” You didn’t even know what you were asking for you had everything you could possibly want already in your possession. “I know baby I know” “Felix whispered resting his hand on your cheek, comforting you while continuing to thrust into you at just the right pace. Just how you like it.  Almost as if you guys had slept together before. But really he was just micking the way you would thrust your dildo in and out of you. He learned how to read your body cues.

“Felix I’m close” “Can you hold it, baby, Can you hold it for me” You nodded tightening around him while scratching at his back, he groaned at the slight sting and pleasure of your actions. “Fuck honey you're gripping me so good… your holding it for me” “Mhmm” “Such a good girl” “Felix I- I can’t” “Cum for me baby… cum on my cock baby” You moaned throwing your head back at his dirty words, doing exactly what he told you to do. He cummed in you filling you up, not worried too much about getting you pregnant. You take birth control, he’s seen it. He pulled out without warning placing himself between your thighs seeing yours and his cum leak out of you. He lapped his tongue on your entrance collecting your mixed juices. “You were right baby… we do taste good together” “Lemme taste” You smiled bringing him up to your lips. You did, the both of you together on his tongue was something you could experience all the time. 

He sighed contently laying down beside you in your bed. He took you again and again and again on every surface he ever fantasized of. Whispering more details about his dirty little obsession with you. “You need to go to bed, You have a test tomorrow” “Did you know about my test before I told Chan today” “No pftt what do you take me for, a stalker?” You laughed cuddling into his chest your eyes slowly shutting at the sound of his heartbeat. Yeah, he imagined fucking you like crazy but this, Him holding you close as you fell asleep to his voice is what he wanted the most. “So I wasn’t sneaky” “Not at all” You whispered letting sleep take over your body.

Okay, so maybe it isn't October anymore, SUE ME. But anyway I will post the others I promise it's just my stupid fault for deciding to do Kinktober so late it's my red flag I know. I will definitely do better next year, swear. HOPE YOU LIKE IT.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the New York Times:

For years, politicians, industry groups and environmentalists have argued over which bodies of water in the United States should fall under the jurisdiction of the Clean Water Act, a sweeping law, passed in 1972, that allows the Environmental Protection Agency to limit water pollution. While there’s consensus that the law applies to major rivers and lakes, there’s debate over whether federal protections should apply elsewhere, such as to nearby wetlands or streams that go dry for part of the year.

Environmentalists favor broad protections, arguing that these other bodies of water are important; homebuilders, some industry groups and conservatives oppose what they see as regulatory overreach.

In May 2023, the Supreme Court voted 5 to 4 to restrict the scope of the Clean Water Act, with the majority ruling that the law should apply only to “relatively permanent, standing or continuously flowing bodies of water,” as well as to wetlands that have “a continuous surface connection” to those waters.

That ruling effectively ended federal protections for up to 4.9 million miles of streams that flow only when it rains, according to officials at the E.P.A., which announced in August that it would follow the court’s guidance.

These temporary streams are often overlooked since they may look like unremarkable dry ditches for much of the year, said Jud Harvey, a senior research hydrologist for the United States Geological Survey, who wrote a separate commentary on the Science study. “But when it rains,” he said, “these streams convey a substantial amount of water” that ends up in rivers and lakes.

Mr. Brinkerhoff and his colleagues identified millions of ephemeral streams across the country and used detailed modeling to estimate how much water flows through them.

In the West, ephemeral streams flow only for four to 46 days per year on average, but contribute up to 79 percent of the downstream river flow, the study found. Ephemeral streams contribute roughly 55 percent of the flow in river basins across the contiguous United States, on average.

Mr. Harvey said he was surprised by the amount of water originating from ephemeral streams. “But it is a rigorous and detailed investigation using the best available data in the United States,” he said of the study.

Because so much water passes through these streams, the study notes, it matters greatly whether or not they are polluted. Sediments or excess phosphorus from fertilizer run off on farms could accumulate in dry channels until a heavy rainstorm picks up the pollutants and washes them into larger waterways.

Mr. Brinkerhoff said that the study did not try to quantify how much pollution was actually passing through those streams. That is a subject for future research. But, he said, these streams have a large influence on water quality.