#and my markers work terribly because of the air since it has also been raining a lot and that makes things more humid

[linterteatime]

Lil redraw of the b-sides soundtrack art 💌

[mourningbirds1]

Prospect fic: He Is Home

An Ezra x Reader one-shot

Rating: Explicit for smut Relationship: Ezra x Fem Reader (You) Tags: Smut; Taking A Bath Together; Soft Touching; Oral Sex, F Receiving; Vaginal Sex; Hurt/Comfort; Forehead Kisses; Angsty Fluff; Magical Healing Cock Wordcount: 3K

Also posted on Ao3 - link is in my Masterlist. I also have a Javi x Reader one-shot A Walk In The Woods (smut)

A/N: Written for @yespolkadotkitty​‘s follower celebration writing challenge for the prompt All along, I believed I would find you. Thank you to Kitty for the beta 💗

Summary: You are walking in the rain and feel lost and confused, so you take refuge in Ezra’s house and he looks after you. 

He Is Home

You thought you’d grown strong enough to cope with bad weather after walking for so long, through all seasons. It had been hard at first, but you’d soon learned how to protect yourself from the elements. There were still odd days when you struggled, but you’d remind yourself that everything was temporary. And anyway, even the harshest sun would mellow into a soft glow at dusk. The hardest rain would eventually ease and reward you with the sweet scent of new growth. 

But something has changed today. You tell yourself it must be the cumulative effect of the journey so far. You just need a break, that’s all. Only there’s no place to stop. 

This wind is not the strongest you’ve walked through, but today you’re gasping as it whips around your face and steals the breath from your nose and the words from your mouth. You keep your head down and brace your body against it, but you can’t seem to pick up speed like you would have done yesterday.

Objectively, you know you’ve withstood heavier rain than this. But your shoes have holes that were not there yesterday. And you swear your coat used to be waterproof, but today it is letting in the rain. 

Even so, you know you’d have coped with these setbacks once. But you are suddenly, inexplicably, unable to cope anymore. 

You turn a corner and for a moment your heart feels lighter. You forget your wet feet and your freezing hands because you can see a light up ahead. If you can just keep going for a few more minutes everything will be okay, because you know that is where Ezra lives. 

And the light means he is home.

So you cover your mouth and nose with your scarf to block out the wind, and you pull up the collar of your coat and bring all your attention to your feet. Telling yourself that if you put one foot in front of the other enough times, eventually you will reach him. And so you do.

You open his garden gate and walk up the little path that’s lined with fragrant lavender bushes. You can smell something savoury and herbal and you look down to see that you’re standing on little thyme plants that are growing in the cracks of the path. 

His door is solid wood and you brace yourself as you lift your hand to knock on it, because you know that it will hurt. Your knuckles are so raw from the cold wind. But before your fist makes contact, you hear locks turning from the inside and you know that Ezra is opening the door for you.

He looks just as you remember him. The tuft of pale hair. The silvery scar on his cheek. Soft, dark eyes that turn down at the corners. There are crinkles around them and you find this so comforting because you know these lines are markers of his experience and wisdom. He has already crossed rough terrains and withstood plenty of harsh weather and now he can guide you through them and shelter you from the worst of them.

He’s horrified that you are in such a terrible state. “Come inside, little bird!” 

But you just stand there, feeling too weak to take another step. Too drained by the huge burst of energy you had to summon to come this far. 

He can see that you need him to help you. He steps out and wraps his strong arm around your waist and takes your hand, encouraging you to lean on him.

“I di--didn’t know where else to go,” you tell him, your teeth chattering as you step into his little house.

He closes the door, shutting out the weather, and guides you into his arms. He is so warm. His arms tighten around you, urging you to press the length of your body against him. He doesn’t seem to care that you’re making him wet. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and breathe in his comforting, familiar smell. Your lips are wet with rainwater and you press them against the bare skin of his neck and feel his pulse. He is alive. He is real. He is holding you with all the patience in the world. 

“It’s alright now, sweetheart,” he says. He’s stroking your wet hair and pressing kisses there. His breath is warm and you can feel the soft brush of his scruff against your scalp.

He puts a gentle finger under your chin and tilts up your face so that he can kiss you and warm your frozen mouth with his lips. You place your palms against his broad chest and your fingers clutch lightly at his soft black shirt. 

He draws away and takes hold of your hands. When he feels how cold they are he makes a disapproving noise and brings them together, covering them completely with his big hands and rubbing to generate heat.

It’s been so long since anyone has touched you like this and his tenderness makes you let out a little sob of relief. 

He takes you back into his arms. “Shhh, now. Y’just need a hot bath and a warm, soft bed. How does that sound?” You make a quiet noise of agreement and nod against his chest. 

He leads you into his kitchen and pulls out a chair for you. “Sit here while I fix you something warming to drink,” he says. He speaks softly, with that same kindness you remember. “Shall I make you that drink you always liked so much?” he asks. 

You nod, “Yes, that’d be nice.” Until this moment you had forgotten all about it. You suppose that your recent struggles must have pushed out nice memories like that to make space for your problems. You wonder what else you’ve forgotten.

There are copper saucepans suspended from a rack above the stove. He takes the smallest and fills it with water and sets it to heat up on the burner. You aren’t sure what he adds to the water. This was always something he used to do for you when you’d had a bad day. 

While it’s heating he disappears for a minute and returns with a towel and a thick blanket that he unfolds and drapes over your shoulders. After he’s tucked it securely around you, he crouches down and removes your wet shoes and wraps your cold, wet feet in the warm, fluffy towel. 

He kisses your forehead and goes back to work on your drink. 

When it’s ready he pours it into your favourite cup and places it into your hands. “I can’t believe you still have this,” you say.

“Of course! Why would I discard something important to one who’s so dear to me?”

Sweet, sweet Ezra. Why did you ever leave him?

While you drink, he crouches at your feet to rub them with the towel, drying between your toes and pressing the soft cotton to your skin, the heat of his hands seeping through the fabric and warming you. 

“Now I’m gonna go run your bath. You want to wait here or come with me?”

You don’t want him to leave you. Can’t bear to let him out of your sight now that you’ve finally found him again. “I want to stay with you, Ez.”

“Then so you shall, beautiful girl.” 

You stand up and find that the drink must have bolstered you because it’s a bit easier to walk now. You follow him to the bathroom and sit on a chair with your drink while he draws your bath. 

He adds bubbles and some scented oil. The room is soon filled with fragrant steam and you breathe it in and it warms your throat and lungs. 

While the tub is filling up he takes your empty cup and sets it aside.

“Shall I leave you alone now, little bird?” he asks.

You look at the tub. It’s a huge, antique thing. Freestanding, with clawed feet. Plenty big enough for two people. “Will you get in with me?” 

He holds your face in his big, gentle hands. “If that’s what you want, nothing would make me happier.” 

You watch as he pulls off his shirt and takes off his pants and then he’s naked before you. He lets you look at him for a moment, unembarrassed by your gaze. Every part of him is beautiful. His broad chest and long arms. The softness of his belly. The little patch of pale skin at his hips. His pretty cock and his sturdy thighs. You reach out and run your fingers over a few new scars. They do nothing to diminish his beauty. 

He smiles fondly, “I can see you’re enjoying the view, sweetheart, but it’s time to get out of these wet clothes.”

He helps you undress because your fingers are clumsy. Still a little numb from the cold.

Ezra gets in first. He leans against the curved end of the tub and makes space for you to sit between his legs. You’re still a little wobbly so he reaches up and gives you his hand to hold while you step in and sink into the blissful heat of the water. It’s the perfect temperature. Exactly what you dreamed of as you trudged through miles of relentless rain and wind. 

You ease yourself down and settle between Ezra’s thighs and he guides you to lean back against him. You breathe out a long, shaky sigh as you relax against his warm, broad body. You can feel his firm chest cradling your shoulders and his belly against your back, then his scruff of hair and his soft cock.

His strong arms are draped around you, caging you into his body and keeping you safe. You let your head tilt back and rest on his shoulder and he nuzzles into your neck, giving you sweet, open-mouthed kisses, and little puffs of air as he breathes against your skin. 

You lie there for a while like that while he kisses your neck and your shoulders. And you touch him, too. You stroke his thighs and his arms. You trace your fingertips over his hands and lift each of them to your mouth so you can kiss them, delighting in their size and how powerful and capable they are.

Ezra washes your hair and your body with soap that smells of orange blossom. His broad palms feel just as roughened and calloused as they ever did as he strokes them over the soapy-slick skin of your breasts and your chest, and then your arms. 

You sigh again, so calmed by the reassuring feel of him behind you and the soothing touches of his hands. The warm water is easing your aching muscles and you feel languid and relaxed. You hook your leg over the side of the tub and nudge lightly at his hand, urging it between your spread legs. Ezra’s hand drifts down to your patch of hair and he lets his fingertips trail over your mound and outer lips. Back and forth, swirling, slow and lazy.

“Is this what you need, sweetheart?” he whispers.

You make a contented noise and tilt your hips into his touch. You can feel his cock getting hard but he ignores it and just carries on stroking you. It’s so relaxing that you drift off to sleep. He wakes you by kissing behind your ear. 

“Water’s gettin’ a bit cold now. How about that soft bed?”

“Mmm, that sounds perfect,” you say, smiling and drowsy.

You get out of the tub and he gives you a big soft towel and you both get as dry as you can and, leaving the towels in the bathroom, you walk naked to Ezra’s bedroom. There’s a little fireplace in there and it’s already built up with kindling and logs. You watch him as he crouches and lights it. 

When he’s done he turns and sees you standing by the bed. “Get in, little bird. We’ve only just got you warmed up.” He pulls back the bed covers. It’s the most comfortable bed you’ve ever laid in. The sheets are so soft against your naked skin. 

The rain is beating against the window pane and the wind howls around the chimney, making little whistling noises. But it can’t reach you here. You stretch out and give a little laugh and wiggle your toes. Delighting in being so warm and dry at last. Ezra is propped up on his elbow watching you, smiling and pleased at how happy you are, and he leans in and kisses you deeply, stroking his tongue against yours, slowly and thoroughly. 

You pull him closer and arch your chest towards his, letting your breasts touch his bare skin and feeling him moan into your mouth as he kisses you. Ezra loves how soft you feel against him. You run your hands across his broad back and can feel his muscles shift beneath his skin as he climbs on top of you, making space for himself between your thighs. When your hands trail lower and squeeze his behind, you feel his lips smile against your mouth. You smile, too. 

“Let me feel you, Ez,” you say. He adjusts his arms to allow his warm, heavy weight to cover you, pressing you into the mattress with the length of his body while he kisses you. When he feels you shift, he lifts his weight off you and kisses down your throat and then your breasts and then down, down until he’s nuzzling sweetly into your cunt. You watch him as he goes down on you. He takes his time over it, holding your thighs open and using his clever tongue to give you a blissful orgasm.

After you’ve come he kneels back and you watch his beautiful cock twitch as he licks the taste of you from his lips and takes in the sight of you, happily pliant and relaxed. All ready for him to take his place between your thighs. You spread your legs wider for him, welcoming him as leans in to press his hard cock where you’re wet for him. 

He braces above you on one arm and reaches down with the other to take hold of himself and he pushes into you, slow and easy, like you are where he has always belonged and always will. Filling you like no one else ever has. You lift your legs and wrap them around his hips, letting him push deeper until he’s fully seated inside you.

“Kevva, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he says, and he rocks into you and you move with him. He makes love to you with slow, powerful strokes, letting you feel the delicious stretch of him filling you again and again and again. 

You think about rolling him onto his back and riding him so he can watch his cock sinking in and out of you, but this feels too good. This is what you need. His arms are braced either side of you and his chest is pressed against yours. You love how he’s covering you with his body, and filling you with his cock. Keeping you safe and satisfied. 

He’s grunting softly and you’ve always loved that about him - that he lets you hear how good you make him feel. 

“Can you come like this?” he asks, as he grinds against your clit. His voice is tight and hopeful, but you know he’d give you whatever you need. You wouldn’t always be able to come without the direct pressure of a fingertip on your clit, but you’re so turned on and it’s been so long since you’ve felt him inside you that you know this will be enough tonight. And anyway you can’t bear to have him draw back to make space for your hand. Neither can he, you think. You nod quickly, yes. 

“Good girl,” he says. He speeds up his thrusts, his breathing growing harsh and feverish, his eyes losing focus now as he savours the exquisite clutch of your slick heat enveloping him completely. His breathy grunts become louder and more desperate and the sound of him, so overwhelmed by you, is enough to make you come. He fucks you through your orgasm, telling you you’re a good girl and you’re beautiful. He praises how incredible you feel coming on his cock. His hips stutter against you, once, twice, and he moans with relief and pleasure as his come pulses into you. You tilt up your hips and spread your fingers over his behind and urge him to bury himself deeper, deeper. You want to keep him this close, always. Inside you and flush against you. Right where he belongs. You never want to let him go.

Finally he goes still and heavy. He keeps his cock buried deep inside you so you can feel it while he tells you, “I love you, my darling girl.” 

You realise you knew this already, but you aren’t sure how. Perhaps he’s told you those words before, and this was another memory that’s been pushed out of your brain to make space for worry.

“I love you, Ezra,” you say. And his soft smile tells you that he’s known this all along.

He eases himself out of you and rolls to the side, taking you with him and lifting you onto his chest. You drift off to sleep in his arms, feeling peaceful and full of afterglow.

In the morning Ezra brings you hot coffee and good things to eat. It’s still raining but there’s nowhere you need to go, so you sit in his cosy kitchen, basking in the heat of the wood-burning stove while he tells you about the good books he’s been reading and his new favourite project – raising plants from the seeds he gathered in his prospecting days.

Life is coming back into focus now. Good memories making space for themselves where once there was only room for fear. 

“I’m sorry I went away, Ezra. I don’t know how it happened. I won’t leave again.”

“Little bird, I know you think you flew away but you never really left. You were right here with me all along, safe inside my heart.”

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Masterlist I also have a Javi x Reader one-shot A Walk In The Woods (smut)

[salbidum]

Garden log for today 4-14-21, and exhaustive list of what plants are at what stages.

Decided I couldn’t survive one more hour of my life without foundation plantings; haphazardly threw astilbe tubers into containers of potting soil, planted the aquilegia plants the native plants lady from Buy Nothing gave me (four of them in cement block holes - we’ll see how that goes), and then decided that since the dutchbulbs.com customer service is absolutely garbage and I can’t figure out how to send back the pink phlox they sent me by mistake instead of my fern mix, I may as well plant it too. I did try hacking a hole in the top of some of my hay bales and putting potting soil in them. I’m curious how that goes. 

I also reviewed my garden log back to 2018, and wow, I guess in 2018 I also worked from home and basically only got out to the garden store. I put a lot of plants in the ground in 2018.

The back swamp has had the most successful remediation I’ve ever attempted: namely, I called our water utility and asked if there was a reason why that area was full of standing water a full week after any rain, when all the other vernal creeks were dry. There was. It was a leaky meter head. They fixed it. So there we go. (This did exile the single small frog living in a sinkhole full of poison ivy in that area, but the creek is 4 or 5 good-sized hops away, and living in chlorinated city water was probably bad for it anyway. It was absolutely still hopping and yelling in protest every time I walked by yesterday.) 

As far as what is up in the back swamp area: the sweet vernal grass has seeded though the seed heads probably aren’t mature. The self-heal was the first thing to appear in the back area and has formed some impressive mounds. The sweetflag has flowered. The false hawksbeard is starting to flower, and the first dandelions (european not kriga) are in puff ball. There seems to be a single plant of blue-eyed grass up at the corner near the playground, and I’m keeping an eye on that in case it sets seed. Also blooming: tree verbena, black cherry, southern dewberry, and every damn pine in the damn state all at once. 

The stilt grass, poison ivy, and virginia creeper are just beginning to emerge now. Wisteria on the ground is just now sprouting, but it’s in full bloom in the treetops. 

The autumn olive/oleander is blooming some more (we have several types, all vaguely invasive, all absolutely loved by birds, so different sorts have been blooming for a month - the thorny olive first, I think). The yew honeysuckle is fruiting. 

In my own garden, I’ve got the lilies, my one dwarf columbine, the star of bethlehem, and the blueberry bushes, ranunculus, and jacob’s ladder blooming right now, though the last three were bought this year as plants and so who knows if this is their normal blooming schedule. The painted fern has also emerged and leafed out over the last week. The dianthus are back for their fourth year. You will never believe this, but when you fertilize dianthus with fish emulsion and compost it does better than when you just leave it in hard clay ground for three years and wish it luck. 

The first four sprouts of malabar spinach are up. Yes, I did not succeed in getting rid of it this year. It just grows so well with so little effort and then you can eat it. We also bought two cucumber plants and put them in the trough this week even though that’s just committing to a long ugly battle with powdery mildew. 

Whatever I’m allergic to blooms about 4 p.m. every evening and stays in the air until the middle of the night. At least I know now that it sometimes goes away?

In the front, the chives and big dianthus are about to bloom. The cardinal flower is back up, the yarrow is taking over, the lantana is just barely struggling to start leafing out from the base, and there’s a fire ant hill in my thyme plant so that’s a thing I’m dealing with. My wife spent several weeks worrying that the oregano was dead and now it’s taken over a good part of the bed. The mint has been more subdued but it’s early yet.

I put a plant marker on my clover to try to see if I can keep it from getting mowed this year. 

On the last invasive-plant note, besides that spring is depressing because you realize how much of the landscape is english ivy, invasive honeysuckle, oregon grape, and  oleander over and over, I think the newly-appeared thing in our creek is vietnamese water parsley. I’m going to spend more time trying to identify it, and if it’s that then I’m psyched. It’s terribly invasive in our climate, but I also pulled some up and smelled it and it smells delicious. I feel like of all the ways to wipe out a plant, cooking and eating it usually works the fastest.