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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago

Note

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying.

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer.

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm.

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant.

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines.

John’s icon dims.

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to.

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you.

He tried to call as often as he could.

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down.

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic.

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.”

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening.

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind.

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?”

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work.

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth.

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together.

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad?

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears.

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.”

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted?

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him.

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind.

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with.

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present.

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…”

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear.

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?”

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring.

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts.

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor.

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs.

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.”

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin.

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing.

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?”

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation.

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.”

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords.

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else.

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences.

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips.

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends.

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute.

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later.

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?”

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?”

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name.

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed.

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click.

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms.

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat.

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening.

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh.

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.”

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod.

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.”

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room.

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.”

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight.

You steel yourself and raise the box.

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair.

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully.

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm.

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead.

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders.

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed.

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship.

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!”

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly.

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.”

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it.

Pregnant.

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly.

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts.

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss.

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold.

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again.

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.”

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.”

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.”

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.”

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second.

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.”

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child.

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.”

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.”

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave.

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

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lilbfprincess · 3 days ago

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PEEK A BOO!

(I need more of these. They are so dang cute!) I’ve gotten a lot of messages asking for an update and wondering where I’ve been… so here we go.

I got extensive blood work done recently, and have needed time to digest and navigate the changes needed. Most everyone has been respectful about giving me time because frankly.. I haven’t wanted to talk about it.  I won’t go into everything, but the main points are that my body is full of inflammation, I have “leaky gut,” and my thyroid isn’t functioning well at all. We were worried it was an autoimmune disorder, but we aren’t there YET. I am taking additional supplements and prescriptions (including this DISGUSTING shake stuff I have to drink daily.) I have to be on an INSANELY strict diet for the foreseeable future.. think no gluten, dairy, soy, eggs, sugar, peanuts, beef, COFFEE etc.. on top of having to be on a very low acid diet (no tomatoes, vinegar, spicy etc.)   Basically right now I am very overwhelmed, TIREDDDDD and I’m freezing all of the fucking time. It sucks.  I ask for a few things….the first is patience. I don’t have nearly the energy that I normally do, but I am doing my best. Secondly PLEASE support my JFF and paid content. I am putting most of my “spoons” into that because alas, I still need to make money…especially with Christmas coming up! (I am accepting customs as well!)   I kind of just have to do things when I get a little boost of the zoomies lol  I share this because I share a lot of myself with you guys and the amount of geunine concern has been sooo incredible. Y’all know how to make a girl feel loved!   I will say, snapchat is the easiest way to get ahold of me.

(PS I’m thinking of getting a PO Box if anyone wants to send Christmas cards or presents!!)   

XOXO

 Kitten AKA LBP

#ab/dl diaper #ab/dl babygirl #ab/dl community #diaper bulge #diaper sexy #ab/dl lifestyle #i sell content #ab dl girl #daddy’s babygirl #ab dl lifestyle

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tadpoles-and-daydreams · 4 months ago

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A witchcraft basics doc; update, resource call, interest check, and a possible second doc

Bet most of you didn't even know I was working on this >:D

Yes this is a huge post. It's a lot of things.

So, one of my first posts ever on this blog was me mentioning that a friend of mine had NO clue what they were signing up for when asking for the basics of witchcraft. The google doc I wrote took on a life of its own, and the post did as well when people started asking for it. I still plan to tag said people when I post it, assuming they haven't deactivated. The thing is, this doc had become a proper project, and it took a long time for me to have the motivation to work on it again. Now, though, it seems to me like a damn good way to reconnect to my craft after a rut! (which, by the way, is why I've been offline.)

So, my first post back is for a couple of reasons. For one, if you have any resources you'd think would be useful for beginner witches, feel free to shoot me an ask, DM, or comment/reblog on this post! I'll have a list of things I'm putting in the doc (taking recommendations there as well) at the bottom of this post.

The other thing is that I might end up making a second doc, one that's a little less "101" in vibe. It would have a MAJOR MAJOR UPG warning on it, first off, and I'm not sure whether or not I would be marking any UPG either since this would essentially be a second Grimoire/Book of Shadows for me that would be public to others for the sake of sharing information! I can't say I'd call it "advanced witchcraft" by any means, I'm not very fancy lol, but I don't want the basics doc to get too overwhelming. I do, however, want to scream about random witchcraft topics that interest me. So this is also a bit of an interest check for that, as well as the basics doc.

FINAL NOTE: I fully plan on posting this basics doc before it's done. Some sections will be unwritten or unfinished, because if I wait until I find it "finished" I'll never post it. It's going to be added onto whenever I can, but I feel as though getting it out is the best course of action.

A list of stuff in the doc that I'd take resources on (AKA everything planned in it) with * by anything that will be left unwritten/unfinished on purpose until I know more. I will take resources and recommendations on EVERYTHING though. This is in no particular order:

grounding and centering

VOCAB (intention, intuition, UPG/SPG/VPG, appropriation. probably others I'm forgetting.

candle, plant, crystals and safety* (as well as any other tools one might need safety tips for. This is left completely unwritten as I use very few tools of this type.)

deity work* (the whole debate surrounding when to start, as well as information about it. Will include smth about house rules/boundaries. My work is very casual, I'd love to see different POV's of this! This is by nature left unfinished because deity work is so unique to the witch.)

grimoire/book of shadows

tools of the craft* (common tools and how to use them consumerism in witchcraft, etc.)

cleansing

appropriation* (I don't know near enough about this, I just check what's in my own practice. I would like this to include a list of commonly appropriated closed practices, a definition of appropriation and why it shouldn't be done, open pantheons, and common open practices.)

spellwork*

meditation

where someone could go from here* (including sigils, tarot, crystals bc my friend likes rocks lol, maybe astrology but oh god I have nothing about that it makes my brain hurt just looking at an astrology chart /pos. I will probably make a list of stuff that I could add in this section.)

casual/daily/quick/low energy practices and witchcraft

paganism and witchcraft; overlap, what they are individually, why one might be for you rather than the other, etc.*

there'd be a credit section for anyone who wants to be credited for links/resources at the end! If you send me resources plz specify if you want to be included in that or not.

Things I might include in the second doc if I make it:

the craft and mental health and my experiences with it

things commonly touched on in the community (your deities don't hate you, cycles of inactivity and burnout, other things I'm forgetting rn)

deity-specific things, more specific topics of the craft, etc. yet another reminder that this would all include UPG, possibly unmarked, because it would basically be primarily used to give me motivation to research more.

#witchblr #witchcraft #paganism #pagan witch #witch community #witch blog #deity work #paganblr #eclectic pagan #pagan #beginner witch #baby witch #witch tips #witchy

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pinkaditty · 11 months ago

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If it's not inconvenient, I would like to order Leona with a female reader with prompt 5 18,20 and 30 (if you can't do everything, you can choose just one prompt, I don't want to leave you overwhelmed)

okaaaaaaaaay y’all really poured in req after req after req! like seriously! i was thinking to myself “hmm ill manifest 15 asks” i have fucking 20. (/pos) love u guys woo!! these will get done over the span of a while, but i do ask you all to be patient with me! i am disabled in multiple ways and that does get in the way of my productivity sometimes, but ill do my best to crank these out at least on an evenly-spaced schedule. thank you!

a/n: sub!reader… so many sub!reader asks… i will write these to the best of my ability but i don’t write it often (i don’t really know how to be a sub lol?) so ill do my best to write this in an appealing way without it being cringe. ALSO if u have submitted an ask. I SEE IT I PROMISE!! none of the asks i have received as of now have been against my rules or too much for me to write. I promise I will get to your ask! Please be patient with me!

cw: omegaverse!au (a/b/o), size difference, cock warming, dacryphilia, penetration, fem!reader, sub!reader, not proofread, and leona being a pos as per usual (/lh).

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE AND RESPECT MY BOUNDARY! THANK YOU!

Whenever the haughty prince, Leona Kingscholar, was in a rut, everyone in the palace knew.

Everyone.

The two of you were not quiet, and since he doesn’t like to go anywhere, you would stay cooped up in his room, and all palace staff and residents would make it a point to avoid that area to spare themselves the noise and embarrassment. Neither you nor Leona cared, though. As long as you had time to yourselves, that was all that mattered.

You were currently seated reverse cowgirl on his barbed cock, your puffy cunt stretched wide over the sheer girth. No matter how many times he fucked you silly with it, you could never get used to the size. Thick and long, it filled up the entirety of your cunt and then some, the pointed tip pressing into your cervix. You were shaking and could hardly feel your legs any longer, staying obediently upright on his cock. You didn’t dare move much more than your trembling. He was stretched out on his bed, his arms crossed behind his neck, his eyes closed. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was sleeping, but the smirk on his face was a dead giveaway, as well as the gentle twitching of his cock within your heat.

The reason your body, quite small in comparison to his, was seated on his groin was to keep yourself plugged up from endeavors just passed. He insisted on it every time. You just had to sit and wait until he was at full mast again, at which point he would tell you to start moving. If simply sitting on his cock was enough to have you trembling, you were sure feeling him slide against your walls would destroy you.

But until then, you were simply seated on his cock. You curled and uncurled your toes, already getting antsy while waiting for some movement. It was becoming pure torture. You knew he was enjoying this. You didn’t have to look at him to know that a devilish smirk accompanied the amused scoff you just heard.

You felt him twitch inside you again. Whether he was doing this to tease you or simply because the buildup was hard to bear, you didn’t know. What you did know was that he was hard, and rapidly approaching full mast. You only had so much longer until his twitching tip eventually kissed your cervix, and you would know it was time to start moving again. You still don’t dare to move much, trying to breathe deeply and keep yourself from losing your mind. Even though you’d been sitting for a while, he was still stretching you out. It’s already such a feat, your small hole somehow managing to fit Leona’s impressive girth. You didn’t know how you were going to take much more, even if you knew you could. You start to get a little dizzy, the overwhelming girth becoming hard to bear. Tears prick the edges of your eyes from the odd mix of pain and pleasure. To better get yourself used to his size, you squeeze your walls around him, squeezing your eyes shut at the same time. Tears roll down your face as you clench yourself tightly, desperately attempting to accustom yourself to the enormous length.

You feel him smack your ass, and you yelp at the sharp pain. You slowly turn your body, your cunt twitching at the sensation of movement, looking at him with tears in your eyes. He whips his tail back and forth in satisfaction, a wide smirk on his face. His sharp eyes narrow at your tears, and his smirk only grows wider as a light chuckle escapes his lips.

“Turn around. Let me see you."

His cock twitched in your heat. He was at full mast.

You slowly turn yourself, gently moving your legs the best you can. Your legs feel like jelly, and you struggle to turn while keeping him inside you. You lift yourself with your arms, gently twisting your legs around. Your cunt twitches more at the movement, and you whimper and bite your lip as you twist. When you finally fully turn, facing him, your arms are struggling to hold yourself up, your legs curled behind you. You are slightly lifted off of his cock, and trying to prepare yourself to slide him back in. You don't dare to look at him, already knowing that he is simply enjoying the show. You slowly lower yourself back down, tears spilling from your eyes. You squeeze your eyes shut at the length filling you again, and a small whimper escapes your lips, tightly pursed to prevent moans from slipping out. Tiny sobs slip out as you finally reach his base, your heat having fully taken in his girth. Your whole body is shaking, and despite knowing what's coming, you hope for a little bit of rest in between. But Leona won't afford you that. No, he likes to be entertained.

“Start moving."

You sob at his words, not sure how you were going to manage this on your own. You'd be a liar if you claimed to not enjoy it, though. You liked how he ensured he was always in control, always entertained. You bite your lip and begin to obey, sliding yourself up and down his length. The sensation of him rubbing against your walls is far too much to bear. Your legs are trembling and your lips are no longer pursed, moans slipping from your lips as you ride him. As painful as his girth is, it is also insanely pleasurable, rubbing against all your sweet spots. He grunts, reaching out to grab your hips and steady your movements. You can tell he's resisting the urge to thrust upwards, clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes. The sound of skin on skin, wet copulation, and loud moaning quickly fills the room.

Your eyes roll back, tears still spilling from them. You grab Leona's wrists, attempting to stabilize yourself. You keep moving, lifting and dropping your body carelessly over his length, simply chasing the ecstasy-inducing friction and the building orgasm threatening to rip through you. You can barely focus, your vision all bleary, but you glance at him and notice his wicked smile, staring at your expression. Of course he enjoyed your tears, an obvious sign of how good it all was. You can feel it approaching, and you dig your nails into Leona's wrists, gasping for air at the feeling. Leona is not in much better shape, grunting and groaning, clearly letting the sensations get to him. To spur him on further, you clench your walls on him again, tightening yourself around him. You curl your toes and loudly sob, feeling the orgasm coming. You keep bouncing, chasing it, addicted to how it feels to be full of such a large girth.

Finally, it comes, and rips through you, causing you to clench your walls even tighter and moan loudly, arching your back at the feeling. Leona thrusts upwards only once, burying his length within you, and releasing deep inside you. His hot cum fills you up all at once, and you relish the feeling, the warmth seeping into your womb and settling in.

The two of you pant heavily as you come down from your high. Your muscles slowly relax, and you begin to slouch, catching your breath from the endeavor. Leona recovers far quicker than you, and pulls his arms back, slapping your thighs and smirking at you again.

“Stay put."

And so, you were to stay put, plugged full, at least until he was hard again and ready for another round.

a/n: wooow writing sub!reader is so new and unfamiliar but I did it???? I did it!!!! this is only the first of MANY, MANY asks that I have received. it's like a new one is there every day! thanks so much for submitting all these asks! anyways, I really really hope you all enjoy this, whether you requested it or not! thank you so much for reading, and don't be afraid to like, comment, reblog, or put in a request yourself (please make sure to read the rules and my masterlist)! thank you!!!!

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rockwgooglyeyes · 1 month ago

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Ok, taking Round 7 at face value for a second with Till dying and Ivan's sacrifice being in vain: adding to the reincarnation au idea

Ivan still wants to avoid Till in their new life as to not be a supposed "burden" to him this time around, but Till, who actively wants to have some closure when it comes to what happened in their past lives, has trouble confronting Ivan about what happended since he's come to realize how much Ivan's life revolved around him and feels overwhelming guilty for failing him by dying and making everything that Ivan's done for him feel meaningless (especially his death).

(I might come back and actually talk about Round 7 itself again if that's ok with you Rocky, I just had reincarnation au on the brain for a sec lol)

Fuckk Geo this 😭 this I love this so much. Till having survivor's guilt about Ivan's death, how he failed Ivan by dying, and how he acted towards Ivan in their previous life, while Ivan is avoiding Till out of a desire not to be a burden and isn't even fazed by his own death/the way that Till acted towards him.

I imagine that Till's hesitancy to talk to Ivan would be even further cemented when he finally finds Ivan and he realizes that, wait, what if Ivan was avoiding Till because he really didn't want to see Till again? What if Ivan was trying to move on and here Till is, fucking that up? I think it would be even more delicious if, in the wake of this, Ivan and Till locked eyes and Till ran away, leading to the dynamic once again being turned on its head, where Ivan tries to locate Till in an effort to figure out just how Till found him and why because I can't imagine he made it easy.

Gosh, Geo, thank you so much for reaching out to me w/this like fuck I am actually thinking of writing something based on this au so I love talking about it. Also please please please feel free to talk to me about Round 7 itself, I love chatting with you and I enjoy your opinions and ahahhahfhhfhfhf /pos

#i love you so much geo thankkkk you for this hehehe >:D #alien stage #alnst #ivantill #geospiral #rocktalks #ivti reincarnation au

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marshmallow-biscuit-blog · 1 month ago

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Yo they are done. Sassafras (Allen's mom) and Burdock (Allen's dad) Mom's been updated to not be such a pos. She felt trapped the whole time, unable to find the emotional/mental strength to get out of the familial situation, and taking Allen with her. So because of that they both suffered. But I think the tumblr folk know exactly how much mental health can destroy you, and that's exactly what it did for her. Not an excuse, but an explaination. The second Burdock dies, she literally fucking goes to find Allen and apologize because the chains on her finally snapped and she was 'free' so to say. She actually loves Allen, even if she's overwhelmed to a point of snapping at him/ taking things out on him verbally. Yet unlike Burdock, she always apologized to Allen, and tried her best to reassure him that she loved him. Burdock on the other hand... just a pos lol. Won't get all into it here, but yeah. Didn't want to marry Sassafras, certainly didn't want a kid, wants nothing to do with them. Sassa is the one who gave Allen a tiny bit of money (what she had) when he had Rooty and had to raise her on his own. (yes they are indeed based off a certain arranged marriage from a certain tim burton movie except they're poor af and never were rich lmfao)

#kitchen utensil family #the kitchen utensil family #oc #rooty float #allen beera #Sassafras Beera #Burdock Beera

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jujutsustraycats · 6 months ago

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Hey ish! Your school would be starting in a few days and here a few things I wish someone told me when I was about to start my journey for 11th! Some of these might apply to you too even though the paths I have and you will be taking are completely different.

Next 2 years are gonna teach you a lot. They'll put you through the highest of high and lowest of lows. They'll change you as a person. They'll teach you so much about life (and also how people can be). Things would get overwhelming at times. You wouldn't understand what the fuck is going on at times. A lot of times you'd be left confused and hurt and alone for both, academic and non academic reasons. Also, you'd get a lot of career advice so you need to know how to filter out the useless ones! The best way to check authenticity can be reflect on the achievements of the one giving advice.

Even though your classmates might be in the same stream, you'll realise that everyone has a different story and that, in the worst ways possible too. There'd be times when it'd feel like none of your peers understand your visions and aim for future, there'd be times you wouldn't have a buddy to chat about your life philosophies with who also has the same opinions as yours (but remember to not give up on people as a whole okay? You'd find people you vibe with at the end of the day, you just have to be bold enough to put yourself out there!)

There'd be also times you might end up severely over worked and sleep deprived (but make sure not to drink so much coffee that your hands and shaking and your heart is beating so fast that your body goes into fight and flight mode thinking you're having panic attack lol). You know ish, these 2 years might completely make you or break you, but remember to not give up despite whatever situations you might end up in.

I personally was a several-Olympiad-gold-medalist kinda overachiever till 10th (even in 11th lol, i didn't sit for it in 12th because my priorities changed. And I overlooked it, don't do that. Celebrate your smallest wins and remember to appreciate yourself for the smallest milestones or you'll end up severely burnt out. It has happened to me twice over the span of last 4 years till now.) But even I ended up seeing the greatest academic downfall i ever had in front of my eyes at many times during these 2 years. And you should know that it's okay. A lot of people are going to be tough on you but try your hardest not to be one of them. Being kind to oneself can be difficult but try your best okay? And you said you are a perfectionist aren't you? Take care little dove.

I've seen a lot in these two years too. A lot of your academic experience also depends on what kind of teachers you get and me, personally, oh my teachers were pos and sadists. They'd bully me for the most stupid reasons (haha losers. You said i wouldn't be able to do it? Well. fuck y'all ✨ [you'd have to learn to be indifferent at times and not let their or anyone else's words get through you. Learn to develop a strong self belief.]) and I seriously hope you get better teachers.

But oh ish not every elder is bad, you'll get some amazing teachers whom you'd never want to break ties with. Hold on to them! okay? You'd also get really amazing friends who you'd know are going to last a lifetime and would be there for you in your toughest times. Hold on to them as well! Some bastards are too good to let go. Ha!

And also, in return, remember to be kind to your peers because you don't know what they might be going through (not to scare you but I had 2 of my friends who'd almost commit suicide, so yeah it can get scary for both, you and them at times but remember to heal them with your love and support. It's an age you all need each other!)

It's gonna be fun, full of lessons, scary, exciting and adventurous at the same time. You'd hate it sometimes and you'd love it sometimes, but despite all MASTI NAHI RUKNI CHAHIE!!! You won't ever get these 2 years back so make sure you don't walk out without making some amazing memories!! Vandalise stuff, copy the sign of principal to escape the school, bunk the classes (to study or not, your choice) have deepest conversations and most light hearted jokes and banters the exact other day, sleep in the class, eat from under the bench, give impromptu speeches on seminars and farewells, break rules....whatever ish. Whatever gets your heart pumping and adrenaline rushing. Because while it's the starting of peak years of your career, you should remember to be a human and have fun at times too. It's okay. It's normal. It's needed. One shouldn't be guilty about it.

Getting less than perfect marks on a few tests isn't gonna harm you as much as you think it will. The ones who love you will continue to love you. The ones who admire you will continue to admire you. The ones who support you will continue to support you.

Baki, main hun idhar hi ❤️ kabhi bhi kuch problem ho toh AA Jana apni badi behen se advice lene, I'll try my best to help you out. As I said the other day, the pain and trauma these 2 years have put me through has only served to make me more empathetic and protective of my juniors so if you come to me with loads of rants i won't say cliché things like "Stay strong". I'd first and foremost listen to you and simply that. I'd listen to you for as long as you want me to. Because sometimes you'd simply just wanna be heard ❤️

I'll try my best to be there for you! If nobody got you, I do! Remember that, okay? ✨

... Dear gods, I don't even know what to say. You made me cry. Like, tears actually sprung up in my eyes. Happy ones, though. Don't worry too much.

I'm not one for physical affection but I would've hugged you so hard if I were there. Thank you. This genuinely made my day.

#you're so sweet chechi thank you thank you for taking the time to send me this and to offer your support #never thought 🥹 would be me irl but here i am #hugging you tight rn virtually hope you know that #and i want to say that i'm here for support too okay? it's a two way thing. i'm also here to listen.#asks: nami!#familia nami #ish's favorites

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