#i tried reading this one last year and got distracted by Madhouse

[sunlaire]

9 Books I want to read in 2025: tagged by @johnnyy-guitarr and @futuristicdoormats789 (thank y'all, I've been wanting to sit down and do this all week, this was really fun ahhh <333)

An Unsung Hero: Tom Crean, Antarctic Survivor by Michael Smith (let's gooooo, when I saw there was a crean book I added it to my list, hype hypehype)

I May Be Some Time by Francis Spufford

What Manner of Man by @stjohnstarling (vampire seduces priest, yes thank you, I will be reading that)

Ada Blackjack by Jennifer Niven

I'm Thinking of Ending Things by Iain Reid (listen, I could only hear Jacob geller reference it so many times before I succumbed to curiosity)

Shackleton's Boat Journey by Frank Worsley (and after this, I want to read his Endurance book too)

The Wager by David Grann

Moby Dick by Herman Melville

This Savage Kingdom by @dravenscroft

Tagging: @antarcticlovebirds @moongazeonastarfillednight @incesthemes @strogoff-era and bonus, because I think it would be really funny if they responded @pjackk (if any of y'all have already done this,,, sorry. But also could you link me to the post? I'm a curious person 👀)

[secretkeeper13]

Quiet

66.  “That was the last time. I’m serious this time.”

My little ficlet for the Hinny Ficfest organized by the lovely and wonderful @clarensjoy!  Thank you so much for organizing it Clare, I can’t wait to read them all (and I’m already regretting having a busy work day tomorrow). This was inspired by a conversation on the Hinny Discord a few weeks ago- thank you to @katie-with-the-tea for telling me I should write it and to @thedistantdusk for reading it through for me.  Also on Ao3.

“It’s so quiet,” Harry murmured.

They sat on a chaise lounger out in the garden, the pair of them sipping wine, watching the sun as it slipped down under the horizon on the warm June night. Ginny sat between his outstretched legs, her back resting against his chest, her hair gleaming red and gold in the fading light from the setting sun.

“It’s nice isn’t it?”

“Mmmh,” he hummed absently, wrapping his arms around her middle.    

It was a rare peaceful night in the Potter house, James having stayed the night at George and Angelina’s, leaving only Albus and Lily, who were exhausted after a day spent at the beach at Shell Cottage. Both were fast asleep by eight, so he and Ginny opened a bottle of wine and headed out to the garden to enjoy the fading summer day.

But if he was honest, as lovely as the quiet moment was, it was a bit unsettling. He’d grown accustomed to the constant noise and commotion- the usual rows between James and Albus, the hubbub from any number of visiting nieces and nephews or Teddy, and the endless chatter from Lily.

“I suppose we may finally be in for some nights like this, now that they’re getting older,” Ginny commented, setting down her glass on the side table and placing her arms atop his, tracing light patterns on his forearms with her fingers.

She was right, he realized, and he suddenly understood why the quiet house caused him unease. Lily had just turned five. James would be off to Hogwarts in two years. They were growing up.

It seemed like yesterday that he’d held them in his arms as babies- James, always active and wriggling, Albus, soft and snuggly, his warm weight solid on his shoulder, Lily, all smiles, coos, and babbles. And he missed it.

“ You’re quiet,” she said softly, her fingers still ghosting across his forearms. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking how much I enjoy sitting with you like this,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on the side of her cheek and then moving his chin to rest atop her head.

It wasn’t a lie. He loved this, having a moment with Ginny all to himself. And he didn’t want to ruin it.

She scoffed. “Nice try. I can tell there’s something on your mind.”

As always, she’d seen straight through him.

He sighed. “Gin, what would you think about another baby?”

She turned her head and fixed him with an appraising look, her brow raised. “I think you shouldn’t think about having another baby.”

“You said that after Albus, and then we had Lily.”

“That was the last time. I’m serious this time.”

He chuckled and nuzzled her neck. “Are you sure?” he asked, as he kissed down her neck. “Because I really like making babies with you.”  

“Mmmh,” she sighed, her body relaxing back into his as he hit that spot just below her ear that he knew she particularly enjoyed. “Don’t try to distract me.”

“But I like distracting you,” he said, now kissing onto her collarbone, reminded of those golden hours spent by the lake at Hogwarts doing this when Ginny was meant to be revising.

Suddenly, she pulled away and removed his arms from around her middle. She turned to face him, sitting on her knees in between his legs.

“What’s this really about, Harry?” she said, her tone gentle, as she brushed her hand through his hair. “I’ve been on the potion since Lily, and I thought we both agreed that three was it.”

He looked down as he tried to collect his thoughts. She waited patiently, as she always did when she could tell her was on the verge of sharing something.

“Do you ever miss having a baby?” he asked, taking her hand and toying with her fingers. “The way they’d fall asleep all cuddled up and heavy on your shoulder, or smile at you for no reason, like you’re the best thing they’ve ever seen? I suppose I’m realizing that we won’t ever have that again.”

Her face softened. “Of course I miss that,” she said, and he could hear the wistfulness in her tone. “Merlin, don’t even get me started on that new baby smell.”

“But Harry,” she continued, her tone firmer, “I don’t miss being pregnant, or awful nights where they’d wake up every hour, or sore nipples, or dirty nappies, or-“

He chuckled. “All right, I get it.”

He looked past her up to the sky. The sun had set and night had begun to fall, a dusky purple descending on the garden. A metaphor for our childbearing years, he thought forlornly.

But Ginny was right. They’d agreed three was it. Really, even if they hadn’t agreed, it was her decision- it was her body, after all. And yet, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to let this part of their lives go.

He sighed again. “I just… I worry we may regret it later. Not having another. And would four really be that much more difficult than three? It’s already a madhouse here most days.”

Her eyes twinkled in the dying light. “Harry,” she smirked, “You realize that’s exactly what my parents said, and then they got Fred and George.”  

His eyes widened. Fuck, I hadn’t even considered that.  

Four was one thing. Five was an entirely different story. The image in his mind of one baby, cuddly, smiling, and cooing “Daaa” just the way Lily had was suddenly replaced by two squalling, wailing, colicky newborns, each crying on and off during a sleepless night. His mind jumped to the thought of two toddlers, one trying to boost the other up to climb the shelves in the scullery while teetering precariously on the edge. And then to two six year olds, colliding mid air on brooms while throwing fireworks, as he chased after them on the ground, grey haired and exhausted.

She laughed as she took in his horrified expression.

“You’re re-thinking this whole let’s-have-another-baby proposition now, aren’t you?”

He grinned sheepishly. “After further consideration, I think you’re right. We agreed three was it. We’re done, yeah?”

She smiled at him and leaned in closer, until her face was inches from his.

“Yes,” she whispered, her breath warm on his lips. She kissed him deeply, her fingers threading and wrapping into his hair, and he was lost in her, like always.

When she pulled back, he was still slightly dazed. “I think we should go upstairs now,” he murmured.

“I think that’s your best idea tonight,” she replied, standing up and then extending her hand to him.

“And since we don’t have a baby,” she continued, her brown eyes blazing in the low light, “we won’t be interrupted.”

[vexing-imogen]

the persistence of 3/?

read from beginning | read on ao3

Whitestone shouldn’t feel familiar to her. Percy says it’s their home, sure, but she’s never stepped foot in this city, had never even heard of it before today. The streets, the buildings, the surrounding forest and distant mountains are completely foreign to her. And yet...

The square around them is thankfully empty, save for some unnaturally lifelike statues that, after a moment of intense focus, Vex realizes are...them. Vox Machina. She studies her own stone face, and it’s like looking in a broken mirror. The features are undeniably hers, but the expression is one of such aching sadness that she has to turn away. She hadn’t considered until now that there might be things from the past five years that she wouldn’t want to remember.

She feels Percy tense when she buries her face in his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“My head is killing me.” It’s not a total lie. Her skull is still throbbing. And the eerie deja vu of this place isn’t likely to help her maintain any semblance of balance.

“Oh, god, of course.” He lowers them both to the ground, her back supported by the giant tree. “Pike, do you have any healing spells left?”

“I’ve still got my big one,” Keyleth offers. Vex winces as a hand touches a sensitive spot on the back of her head, but the pain is quickly replaced by a flood of healing magic. She opens her eyes to Keyleth’s smiling face. “Better?”

Vex nods, grateful that the motion doesn’t trigger any pain or nausea. “Loads,” she says, squeezing Keyleth’s hand. “Thank you.”

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Scanlan asks, turning to Percy. “I’m assuming you’re not going to make us pay for rooms?”

“Right, um...” Percy thinks for a minute, runs a hand through his hair. “I was thinking I’d take Vex to the manor for the night, have the lot of you stay in your rooms at the castle.” He turns to Vex. “If that’s alright with you, dear?”

She eyes him warily. “Is there a reason why we can’t all sleep in the same place?”

He hesitates. “I suppose not, if that will make you more comfortable. If you’d rather stay at the castle, I don’t mind. But, Vesper is at the manor, and as I haven’t seen her in nearly a week, that is where I will be tonight.”

“Of course,” she murmurs. “Is the manor not big enough for everyone?”

“No, it is,” he says. “But, trying to get an excitable toddler to go to bed when nearly all of her favorite people are in the house?” He chuckles. “I’d have more luck trying to wrestle a bear.”

She gasps at that last word. “Trinket! Where is he?” she asks, looking around frantically. “We didn’t leave him behind, did we?”

Percy smiles gently. “He’s at the manor with Vesper and her nanny. I can send him up to the castle for you if you’d like?”

She thinks it over, finally shaking her head. “I want to come home with you.” She swallows hard. “And if it’s really been almost a week that we’ve been gone, I don’t want Vesper to think that I’ve abandoned her, or something awful like that. And I do want to meet her, I’m just-” She looks up into the foliage, blinking back tears. “This is just really overwhelming, and I don’t want to do it alone.”

Percy is quiet for a minute. “Would it help if one person came with us? Maybe Pike or Keyleth,” he suggests. “That way it’s not just you and me, but it’s not a madhouse either.”

Vex nods.

“I can come,” Keyleth offers. “That way Grog and Scanlan aren’t left totally unsupervised.”

Percy turns to Pike. “Can you fill Cassandra in?” he asks.

“Of course.” Pike gives Vex a tight hug before she sets off after Grog and Scanlan. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay? I promise you, we’ll fix this.”

============================================================

That uneasy feeling nags Vex through the entire walk to the manor. Her feet seem to remember this path, jumping over or sidestepping holes in the cobbled street that would trip her up. Percy raises an eyebrow at her after the third time this happens, and she shrugs. “Muscle memory?”

“Must be,” he says, the look in his eyes growing a little more hopeful.

“Tell me about Vesper?” she asks, hoping to distract them both.

Percy fully smiles for the first time since she woke up. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything. Everything.” She sighs. “I don’t want to feel like a stranger to her.”

By the time Percy is pointing out the manor to her, he and Keyleth have filled her in on everything from Vesper’s favorite stuffed animal (a wolf, named Woofers) to a myriad of nicknames (Nugget, Cub, Little Bug). Of course, none of this prepares her for actually seeing her daughter for the first time.

They’re outside of the manor, playing in the twilight; Trinket, a dwarf woman who must be the nanny, Rika, and Vesper. Vex freezes in the street, her breath catching in her throat. If she had any doubts left that this was real, they’re now dispelled.

She feels Percy’s hand on her back. “Are you ready?”

She shakes her head, tears spilling over. “She’s so beautiful, Percy.”

“Well, she does take after her mother.” Her heart does a wicked little flip in her chest. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Too much, I know.”

“You don’t have to apologize, darling,” she says, taking his hand. “It was sweet. C’mon.” She steels herself and starts walking to the front gate.

Trinket spots them first, bellowing a greeting. Vesper squeals when she sees them, and runs for the gate as fast as her little legs will carry her.

“Mama, mama!” She launches herself at Vex, who just manages to catch her and not send them both tumbling to the ground. Everything Percy told her leaves in that instant. Vesper is a comforting, familiar weight in her arms, and she’s fighting back tears because she doesn’t remember her.

Still, she’s nothing if not a good actress. “Hi, sweetheart.” She peppers kisses across the little girl’s face, earning a peal of giggles. “I missed you so much.”

She gets a wet kiss on the cheek in return. “Missed you too, Mama.” She starts wiggling in Vex’s grasp. “Lemme go, I catch fireflies now.”

Percy scoops her up before she can dart across the yard. “Actually, little miss, I think it’s time for your bath.”

“Daddy, noooooooo.”

He taps her on the nose, ignoring her pout. “If you take a bath now, Aunt Kiki can read you an extra story before bedtime.”

Vex barely registers what he says to Rika, or what the dwarf says to her as she leaves the manor grounds. The distant sound of the front door shutting behind Percy snaps something inside of her, and she doubles over, sobbing.

Keyleth stays by her side, rubbing her back, whispering soothing nonsense. Trinket allows her to wrap her arms around his neck and soak his fur with her tears. There’s a horrible yearning in her chest that she can’t rid herself of, no matter how hard she cries. Not that she wants to get rid of it, and that’s the problem, isn’t it?

She loses track of time, but the sun hasn’t fully set when she heaves a deep sigh and wipes the last of her tears.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Keyleth asks, still rubbing her back.

“I feel like an imposter,” she says after a minute. “This is...everything I’ve ever wanted, Keyleth. A home, a family. Someone who loves me. Not even Vax knows how badly I’ve wanted this. And it’s all right here in front of me, and everyone’s telling me that it’s mine.”

“But it doesn’t feel like it is,” Keyleth guesses.

She sniffles, a few stray tears falling. “Is it really my life if I don’t remember building it?” she asks. “It feels like I snuck in and stole it from someone who actually deserves it.”

“Of course it’s your life,” Keyleth says. “This isn’t like one of those stupid books where someone has an evil twin that legitimately tries to steal their life. You’re still you, Vex. This is your house. Percy is your husband. Vesper is your daughter.”

“And if none of this works, and I never get those memories back, what then?”

Keyleth pauses for a moment. “That won’t change the way we feel about you, Vex. You’ll still be our friend, our sister. No one’s going to stop loving you.” She shakes her head. “It’s like Pike said, though, we’ll figure this out. We’ll fix this.”

Vex turns towards the house, scratches Trinket’s ear absentmindedly. “I wish I could believe you.”

[etherealwaifgoddess]

What He Wants (Pt. 19)

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Summary:  On going series of Bucky getting his shit together and falling in love with you.

Warnings/ Content: none, pure fluff

Word Count: 1855

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Sorry for the late update tonight, my little dudes had their very first sleep over and it’s a madhouse! So, in the last part we had our very first lemon and apparently all of you enjoyed it as much as I did based on the reactions here and over on AO3! LOL. Tonight’s installment is just pure, unadulterated, domestic fluff. Our boy is settling in and making good on his promise to take care of you. Enjoy! 

If you missed the first few parts, you can read them here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

XOXO - Ash

What  He Wants, Pt. 19

It was good timing Bucky had bought extra clothes earlier, the ones he’d brought all need washed and he hadn’t expected things to turn out the way they did on the sofa. You are one lucky son of bitch, Barnes, he thinks to himself. He makes plans to do a load of laundry for you after lunch. He would probably need to be shown how to use the machine but he wants to do the simple chore for you. He was serious when he told you that he wanted to do everything for you. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, whatever you need. He’d even go to the stupid therapy center with you if it would make you happy. It was like you had resurrected that primal, protective part of him and he was surprised to find he still had it within him. He understands now on a visceral level why Tony had always been so overprotective and doting on Pepper, and what made Steve go back in time to live out his life with Peggy. It’s humbling and he mulls over the new emotions as he scrubs himself clean and slides into a new pair of black sweatpants. 

Bucky finds you in the kitchen, piling a large hunk of french bread full of various types of meat for him. He leans down, resting his head on your shoulder and you turn to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, doll.” he purrs in your ear and you shiver at his hot breath. You expected to be less worked up around him after having fooled around not even ten minutes earlier but it apparently had the opposite effect. Now that you've had a taste of his passion you are craving it. It was going to be hard to let him finish healing and get lots of rest when all you wanted to do was get naked with him. You hand him his plate and start compiling your own sandwich. He doesn’t budge for a moment and the long exhale he makes is ripe with contentment. You giggle and nudge him with your shoulder, “Go eat, you need to be resting so you can heal.” With a petulant grumble and a kiss against your neck he finally retreats to the living room with his plate. You follow him out with yours and then go back for two glasses of iced tea. Bucky is flipping through the Netflix offerings and finally settles on a classic musical. 

“Have you seen Rent before?” you ask as you join him on the sofa.

“Not the whole thing but I saw a bit of the beginning a while ago and it looked good.” he tells you.

“It is. I didn’t think you’d be into musicals.”

“Why not? I told you, mouse, I like a little of everything. I’m really not picky about anything.” 

You shrug and try not to analyze his ambivalence too hard. The therapist in you points out that it’s likely he’s too relieved to be out of HYDRA’s clutches and not in imminent danger that he appreciates everything because it’s better than the decades of ice and torture that defined two thirds of his life. A sick feeling starts to form in the pit of your stomach, considering that it very likely applies to his affections towards you too, but you brush it away. You refuse to taint your time together with the thought that his feelings for you are anything less than genuine. If you’re wrong then you’ll willingly deal with the fall out of it later but you can’t risk the chance to be with him on unfounded worrying. Bucky scoots over to sit next to you while he eats, resting his shoulder against yours and you give him a quick smile as you start on your own. No matter what happens, you silently remind yourself, this was definitely worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky’s leg does start getting more sore as the day wears on and he abandons his plans for laundry until the next day. You remind him he’s still healing and relegate him to the sofa for the rest of the day, playing cards and reading quietly. He promises himself he’ll take care of you as soon as he’s able and accepts your doting on him with slow smiles and soft kisses of appreciation.

Bucky wakes up the next morning with only the smallest of aches in leg and he can’t wait to get moving unencumbered. Without the crutch he’ll have full use of his right arm again and he debates if he wants to bother putting his prosthetic on if you’re just staying home. He never used it unless he had to during the years he lived in Wakanda and knows he doesn’t really need it for most things. He looks at you sleeping next to him and tries to stifle down his concerns over you seeing him without it all day. You had been so accepting of him so far and he can’t truly imagine you will be put off by the stump. He presses a light kiss on your forehead as you sleep deeply on top of him. The two of you had wrapped yourselves together again in your sleep and he muses he can get very used to waking up this way. 

Bucky carefully extracts himself from your limbs and out of bed. He wants to spend more time in bed with you but the idea of waking you up with breakfast gets his butt in gear. Bucky is actually a very good cook, he just hasn’t had a lot of time to explore the talent lately. Growing up the oldest child of four, with three younger sisters and a mother who worked meant he made, or helped with, most of the meals for the family to lessen the burden on his ma. He loved doing it and found with practice he could master almost anything. Back in the 30’s Steve had even started hanging around most nights in hopes of being included in the large dinners Bucky and his ma would whip up. He was thankful most of his skills had returned when he took the time to cook for himself in his hut in Wakanda. Bucky had spent a lot of time reteaching himself things so he could work with only his right hand, and found after practice he had no difficulties. 

Bucky quickly pulls out the ingredients for omelets and gets a pan heating on the stove. He hears you stirring in bed as the eggs hit the hot pan and he listens as you get up and make your way out to find him, following the noise of him cooking. “Hey babe” you yawn from the doorway. 

“Mornin’ doll.” he replies without pausing his prep work. “Grab a seat, I’m almost done.” 

You sit down at the little table, slowly waking up and becoming mesmerized by the sight of a shirtless Bucky Barnes moving quickly around your kitchen. His movements are so typically him, no motion wasted, the epitome of efficiency. You notice he’s not wearing his metal arm and hope the choice is out of comfort and not because it’s hurting him. He lets the omelet rest under a lid on your plate for a moment and you wonder what he’s doing but he distracts you by bringing you a cup of coffee. You are not entirely sure you are actually awake as he stands in front of you with his rippled muscles on clear display, his black sweats hanging low on his hips, and his shaggy hair falling all mussed around his shoulders. Your mouth goes dry as you accept the cup from him robotically. “You okay, there mouse?” he asks with a smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you and is enjoying himself thoroughly. 

You nod and make a small sound of ascent before sipping your coffee. It tastes just as good as yesterday and you know you’ll never go back to making it without a pinch of salt. Bucky grabs your plate and adds a slice of french bread slathered with butter and peach jam to it. He hands the plate to you and gets back to working on his own. You take a bite of the omelet which you find has cheese and diced vegetables as well as thin strips of ham. It’s impressive how he got the cheese to melt so perfectly without overcooking the egg. You make a note to ask him about that lid trick later suspecting it has something to do with it. But for the moment you just let your eyes roll back in your head and enjoy. 

You hear Bucky’s chuckle and give him a look. “What?” you ask.

Bucky shakes his head, “Nothin’. You’re enjoying your breakfast?”

“Yes, definitely. It’s really good, babe. Thank you for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” 

“I told you I’d take care of you, mouse. I’m starting a load of laundry after this too.”

“No, Bucky, seriously you don’t have to do that.” you shift in your seat, a little uncomfortable with him doing everything for you in your own home. You are a nurturer by nature and having the tables turned on you is an odd feeling. 

Bucky sets his plate down and gets himself a cup of coffee before joining you at the table. 

“Seriously,” you reiterate, “It’s sweet but you don’t have to do everything on the first day you’re back on your feet. I don’t want you making it worse again.”

“Nah, it’s completely healed. I even took the bandages off this morning. I’m all good, mouse.”

You worry he’s being overly confident, “Okay, but is your arm bothering you?” you motion to his left side with your fork. 

“Oh, no, it’s not.” he gulps, worrying for a fleeting moment but stamping the emotion back down, “I had gotten used to just leaving it off most of the time unless I actually needed both hands for something. Without the crutch my right arm is freed up again, so... I hope you don’t mind.” 

“No, I don’t mind at all. I was just worried it might have been bothering you and you’re trying to do all this stuff around the apartment for me.” 

Bucky lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, he should have known it didn’t matter to you. He sends up a silent thank you to whoever is listening that he has been thrown into your life. “Nah, I’m good, doll. Don’t worry about me. But you might have to show me how to use your washing machine if I can’t figure it out.”

“Not a problem. What else did you want to do today?” 

Bucky starts to answer and is cut off by a knock on your door. It’s barely 9am and you can’t imagine who would be at your door that early. Bucky is up and moving before you can get out of your seat, clearly wondering the same thing. He looks through the peephole and seems relieved. “We got company, mouse.” he announces while he flicks open all of your locks. 

Tag List Lovelies: @my-current-fandom-is @blacklightguidesnic @amazonianbeauty@ladyemofhousestark@abswritesfandoms @rupestria