#balsam bashing

[j-aborg]

♠🎉Birthday Bash🎉♠

Dance with him :D

What can go wrong? (You fall off the table and break your arm)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO VESUVIA'S BEST PLAGUE DOCTOR (mayhaps)

My bestie reminded me it's his birthday today, woah :0

So uh yeah :D that's all lol

Break from Balsam I suppose 😔

(Full CG)

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

Flowers with negative connotations

Abecedary: Volatility.

Abatina: Fickleness

Achillea Millefolia: War.

Aconite (Wolfsbane): Misanthropy

Adonis, Flos: Painful recollections.

African Marigold: Vulgar minds.

Agnus Castus: Coldness. Indifference

Almond (Common) : Stupidity. Indiscretion

Almond, Laurel: Perfidy

Aloe: Grief. Religious superstition

Anemone (Zephyr Flower): Sickness. Expectation.

Anemone (Garden): Forsaken

Apple, Thorn: Deceitful charms.

Apocynum (Dog’s Vane): Deceit

Ash-leaved Trumpet Flower: Separation

Aspen Tree: Lamentation

Asphodel: My regrets follow you to the grave

Auricula, Scarlet: Avarice

Balsam, Red: Touch me not. Impatient resolves.

Balsam, Yellow: Impatience.

Barberry: Sourness of temper.

Barberry Tree: Sharpness.

Basil: Hatred.

Bay Leaf: I change but in death.

Bay (Rose) Rhododendron: Danger. Beware

Bee Ophrys: Error.

Belladonna: Silence

Belvedere: I declare against you.

Betony: Surprise

Bilberry: Treachery

Birch: Meekness.

Birdsfoot Trefoil: Revenge

Valerian: Rupture

Borage: Bluntness.

Box Tree: Stoicism.

Bramble: Lowliness. Envy

Burdock: Importunity. Touch me not.

Buttercup (Kingcup):Ingratitude. Childishness

Butterfly Weed: Let me go

Cardamine: Paternal error

Carnation, Deep Red: Alas! for my poor heart.

Carnation, Striped: Refusal.

Carnation, Yellow: Disdain

Cardinal Flower: Dittitutim.

Catchfly: Snare

Catchfly, White: Betrayed

Champignon: Suspicion.

Chequered Fritillary: Persecution

Cherry Tree, White: Deception

China or Indian Pink: Aversion

Cistus, Gum: I shall die to-morrow.

Citron: Ill-natured beauty

Clematis, Evergreen: Poverty.

Clotbur: Rudeness. Pertinacity

Colchicum, or Meadow Saffron: My best days are past.

Coltsfoot: Justice shall be done.

Columbine: Folly

Columbine, Red: Anxious and trembling

Convolvulus, Major: Extinguished hopes

Corn, Broken: Quarrel

Creeping Cereus: Horror

Crowsbill: Envy.

Crowfoot: Ingratitude

Currant: Thy frown will kill me.

Cuscuta: Meanness.

Cyclamen: Diffidence. (Modesty/shyness resulting from a lack of self confidence)

Cypress: Death. Mourning

Darnel (Ray grass): Vice

Dead Leaves: Sadness

Dogsbane: Deceit. Falsehood

Ebony Tree: Blackness.

Eglantine (Sweetbrier): Poetry. I wound to heal

Enchanter’s Nightshade: Witchcraft. Sorcery

Fly Orchis: Error

Flytrap: Deceit

Foxglove: Insincerity

French Marigold: Jealousy

Frog Ophrys: Disgust

Garden Anemone: Forsaken

Garden Marigold: Uneasiness

Geranium, Scarlet: Contorting. Stupidity

Hand Flower Tree: Warning.

Harebell: Submission. Grief

Heath: Solitude.

Helenium: Tears

Hellebore: Scandal. Calumny

Hemlock: You will be my death

Henbane: Imperfection

Hop: Injustice

Humble Plant: Despondency

Indian Plum: Privation

Jasmine, Carolina: Separation

Judas Tree: Unbelief. Betrayal

Laburnum: Forsaken. Pensive Beauty

Larch: Audacity. Boldness

Larkspur, Pink: Fickleness.

Larkspur, Purple: Haughtiness

Laurestina: A token. I die if neglected.

Lavender: Distrust.

Leaves (dead): Melancholy

Licorice, Wild: I declare against you.

Lobelia: Malevolence

Love lies Bleeding: Hopeless, not heartless

Madder: Calumny

Manchineal Tree: Falsehood.

Mandrake: Horror.

Maple: Reserve.

Marigold: Grief.

Marigold, African: Vulgar minds.

Marigold, French: Jealousy.

Marigold, Prophetic: Prediction.

Marigold and Cypress: Despair

Meadowsweet: Uselessness

Mesembryanthemum: Idleness.

Mezereon: Desire to please.

Michaelmas Daisy: Afterthought

Mock Orange: Counterfeit

Moschatel: Weakness

Mosses: Ennui

Mourning Bride: Unfortunate attachment. I have lost all

Moving Plant: Agitation

Mulberry Tree (Black): I shall not survive you

Mushroom: Suspicion.

Musk Plant: Weakness.

Mustard Seed: Indifference

Narcissus: Egotism

Nettle, Burning: Slander

Oleander: Beware

Pasque Flower: You have no claims.

Passion Flower: Religious superstition

Pea, Sweet: Departure

Peach Blossom : I am your captive

Pennyroyal: Flee away.

Peony: Shame. Bashfulness

Persimon: Bury me amid Nature’s beauties

Pine: Pity

Pink, Variegated: Refusal

Pomegranate: Foolishness

Poppy, White: Sleep. My bane. My antidote

Prickly Pear: Satire.

Pride of China: Dissension

Ranunculus, Wild: Ingratitude.

Raspberry: Remorse.

Ray Grass: Vice

Rhododendron (Rosebay): Danger. Beware

Rose, Carolina: Love is dangerous

Rose, Deep Red: Bashful shame.

Rose, Dog: Pleasure and pain

Rose, Unique: Call me not beautiful

Rose, Yellow: Decrease of love. Jealously.

Rose, York and Lancaster: War.

Rose, Full-blown, placed over two Buds: Secrecy

Rue: Disdain

Saffron: Beware of excess

Saffron, Meadow: My happiest days are past

Sainfoin: Agitation.

Saint John’s Wort: Animosity. Superstition.

Sardony: Irony

Scabious: Unfortunate love.

Scabious, Sweet: Widowhood

Snapdragon: Presumption.

Snowball: Bound

Sorrel, Wild: Wit ill-timed

Straw, Broken: Rupture of a contract

Sweetbrier, European: I wound to heal.

Sweetbrier, Yellow: Decrease of love

Syringa, Carolina: Disappointment

Tamarisk: Crime.

Tansy (Wild): I declare war against you.

Teasel: Misanthropy

Thistle, Fuller’s: Misanthropy

Thistle, Scotch: Retaliation.

Thorn Apple: Deceitful charms

Throatwort: Neglected beauty

Trefoil: Revenge

Tuberose: Dangerous pleasures

Tulip, Yellow: Hopeless love

Tussilage (Sweet-scented): Justice shall be done you

Whin: Anger

White Rose (dried): Death preferable to loss of innocence.

Whortleberry: Treason.

Willow, Creeping Love forsaken

Willow, Weeping: Mourning

Yew: Sorrow

Zinnia: Thoughts of absent friends

Aconite: Beware

Barberry: Bad temper

Carnation (Striped): No, Refusal, Sorry I can't be with you

Carnation (Yellow): Disappointment, Rejection

Cyclamen: Resignation, Good-bye

Daffodil: Regard, Unrequited love, Respect

Everlasting: Never ceasing memory

Geranium: Stupidity, Foll

Golden-Rod: Be cautious

Hyacinth (Purple): Sorrow, Please forgive me

Hyacinth (Yellow): Jealousy

Hydrangea: Thank you for understanding, Boastfulness, Heartlessnes

Marigold: Grief, Despair, Jealousy

Marigold (Common): Pretty love, Sacred, Affection, Caress, Sorrow

Monkshood: Beware, A deadly foe is near

Petunia: Resentment, Anger, Your presence soothes me

Phlox: Our souls are united

Poppy (General): Eternal sleep, Oblivion, Imagination

Rhododendron: Danger, Beware, I am dangerous

Roses (Assorted Colours): You're everything to me

Roses (Single Full Bloom): I Love You, I still love you

Sweet William: Grant me one smile

Black dahlia: Evil, dishonesty, betrayal, doom

Butterfly weed: Leave me, You’ve been warned

-

(Yeah some of these aren’t flowers. What of it?A few of them aren’t so negative- I thought about Jesse’s train of thought/outburst when picking them.)

(If you see any repeats No You Don’t.)

*buried under several flowers and at least one tree*

But ooh. ooh. ooooooooooooh these would be soooo much fun to play around with >:3

[news4trafford]

Volunteers from ASEZ WAO attend Balsam Bashing Volunteer Event to fix a unique problem

Volunteers from ASEZ WAO gathering at Clifton Country Park in Salford attended a Balsam Bashing Volunteer Event. Their goal? To fix a big problem in nature caused by a pesky plant called Himalayan balsam. These awesome volunteers worked super fast! In just two hours, they gathered up bags and bags of Himalayan balsam, clearing the park of this troublemaker. By doing this, they didn’t just solve…

[faith-in-democracy]

The Endless Criticism of Everything: A Hilarious Tale

Ah, criticism. The sweet nectar of human existence. Isn't it just delightful how everyone has an opinion about everything? I mean, who needs positivity and constructive feedback when we can indulge in endless bashing and snarky remarks? It's truly astonishing how the world seems to revolve around criticizing. No matter what you do, someone, somewhere will be ready to tear you apart. It doesn't matter if you're curing diseases, rescuing puppies, or even developing the cure for global stupidity; there will always be a self-proclaimed expert eager to point out your flaws. Take, for example, the absurd notion of critiquing art. Who needs personal taste and subjective experiences when we have online trolls who are undoubtedly the paramount authority on what is good and what is trash? Forget the fact that art is subjective and meant to evoke emotions; we must focus on the important task of spreading negativity. How else will we appreciate the beauty of discontent? But wait, it doesn't just stop at art! Oh no, no, no. Enter the world of culinary critiques. Gone are the days of simply enjoying a meal; now we must dissect each ingredient, each flavor, and God forbid if a sprinkle of balsamic reduction is misused. Heaven help the poor chef who dared to experiment and provoke the wrath of the self-proclaimed food connoisseurs. Let's just appreciate the fact that everyone's taste buds are apparently superior to their actual taste, shall we? And let's not forget the ultimate arena for criticism: social media. Where else can one anonymously hide behind a keyboard and unleash their pent-up dissatisfaction with the world? From political opinions to fashion choices, you can always count on the digital warriors to swoop in with their unsolicited judgments. It's truly remarkable how keyboard warriors have accomplished so much in life while sitting in their parents' basement, don't you think? In conclusion, dear readers, let's embrace the never-ending criticism fest that permeates our existence. Because who needs encouragement, collaboration, and growth when we can pursue a lifelong hobby of tearing each other down? After all, sarcastic remarks and snide comments are just what the world needs to keep spinning. Cheers to the critics, the complainers, and the perpetually dissatisfied!

[lucid-moon0750]

wow what a beautiful field what a beautiful riverside, so many flowers, so much biodiversity, what a paradise for plants to live alongside one another in harmony

[littlemisspascal]

Young Love

Part of The Fox, The Mage, and The Cupboard

Pairing: Din x Female Reader 

Word Count: 1100+

Summary: Alistair brushes a hand over his face, sweeping away the dark hair falling in front of his eyes with an air of irritation. Next week you bet he’ll come in with a haircut. “Have you ever been in love?” 

An invisible fist rams against your ribcage, air punched out of your lungs.

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Warnings: Magic AU with mages and familiars, Reader has a backstory + age but no name, worldbuilding, fluff, crushes, kissing, introspection, made up last name for Lorraine from Narcos

Author Note: Takes place within same year as A Calm & Quiet Place but before Javi’s arrival. Thank you everybody for the kind words of support 💜💜💜

Young Love – Anecdote Candles

Blackberry & Rose - Sweet bliss gives way to depth, discovery and quiet uncertainty. Top notes of balsamic blackberries, bergamot incense, and burgundy rose flutter over a base of amber and musk. Smells like devotion and delusion.

~~

“Miss M?” Alistair Lord asked ten minutes after his arrival at The Cupboard, trailing his fingertips over the glass candle jars, a nervous lilt to his voice.

The nickname never failed to bring a smile to your lips. Originally it was Miss Mage, though the formality of it never settled right with your ears, but the development of a close friendship over the years led to the shorter moniker you’d grown quite fond of.

Ever since you inherited The Cupboard of Remedies from your grandmother, the ten-year-old had been a regular visitor, usually coming by himself after school though occasionally his father came along too. Every visit he brought with him a list of questions to ask you, short enough not to give you a headache thinking of answers, long enough his visits usually lasted an hour. He was thoughtful and sweet, inquisitive about all things magic which led you to believe he’d seek out a mage to teach him how to wield it when he’s older. And if that was indeed the case, Maxwell Lord will spend every single penny of his wealth tracking down the most prestigious teacher in all the territories. Only the best for his dear son.

The nervousness you heard had your head immediately lifting up from the spellbook you’d been perusing all afternoon to give him your full attention. You couldn't remember the last time he’d been nervous to talk to you—must have been in the early weeks of his first visits, you thought, when in his youthful mind you were an intimidating mage to be respected and not a young woman with little business experience trying her best not to accidentally blow up the shop.

“What’s on your mind, Alistair?” you asked gently. He was a sensitive kid, empathetic with a heart five times bigger than any other child’s in Eldergrove. He’d bring you flowers from his father’s greenhouse sometimes, rare blossoms foreign to Eldergrove’s soil, perfect ingredients for your candles and soaps.

Alistair brushed a hand over his face, sweeping away the dark hair falling in front of his eyes with an air of irritation. Next week you bet he would come in with a haircut. “Have you ever been in love?”

An invisible fist rammed against your ribcage, air punched out of your lungs.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

The boy didn't seem to mind your silence. He drew closer to the counter you were sitting behind, a bashful smile on his face as he peered up at you with big brown eyes. “There’s a girl in my class. Molly. She’s really pretty.”

The only Molly you knew around Alistair’s age was Molly York, daughter of Dave, a private security company consultant who was only home on the weekends, and Carol, one of Eldergrove’s school teachers with an excellent peach pie recipe.

Swallowing against your dry mouth, you somehow managed to keep your tone light. “And let me guess…You’ve got a crush on her?”

He bit his lip, nodding in a shy, earnest way that had you resisting the urge to coo like your Aunt Bunny used to do whenever she thought you had done something particularly adorable. The soft reminder of your grandmother’s familiar almost took up enough room in your mind to distract you from the heavy weight of nostalgia pressing on your heart. Almost.

Closing your book, you leaned forward on your forearms. “Tell you what,” you said in a low, surreptitious tone, the one you reserve for exchanging secrets. “How about we make a trade?”

Alistair perked up. “What kind of trade?”

“I’ll let you pick out anything you want on one of these shelves to give Molly at the Dandelion Wishfest, so long as you bring me one or two of those burgundy roses from your dad’s greenhouse next time you visit.” You held out your hand. “We got a deal?”

He didn't hesitate to accept, shaking your hand with a bright smile. “Deal!”

And then he was off, searching your wares for the perfect gift to give Molly. You watched him for a beat, smiling to yourself though you had to admit it was a little strange, witnessing this important milestone in Alistair’s life from an outsider’s perspective while also remembering each of your own adolescent crushes.

If Alistar’s question had been, ‘Have you ever had a crush on someone before?’, then the answer would have been a simple and emphatic of course I have. There had been a crush on Ben Miller in fourth grade and you packed extra sweets in your lunchbox to share with him (he still calls you sweetheart in reference to those schoolyard days though your relationship with him has never evolved beyond friendship). There had been a crush on Javier Peña during your preteen years, only for it to end in harsh disappointment after watching him choose to slow dance with Lorraine Adams at the Black and White Dance. There had also been a crush or two or seventeen on celebrities over the years, each one more unattainable than the last but that never mattered to your easily smitten heart.

Crushes were a common occurrence throughout your life, as predictable and exciting as the four seasons and the annual meteor shower.

But love? Love remained a distant stranger you’d only had the pleasure of meeting once, and even then you hadn’t known that was its name. No, you wouldn’t realize the sensation’s identity until a year after the encounter, until you’d felt the heat of Pero’s skin against your palms when you leaned in to kiss him and found yourself wishing you’d felt cold beskar instead.

That revelation was not what tilted your world off-center whenever the subject of love was brought up. It was the memories of your grandmother’s and Aunt Bunny’s funerals and what had followed afterwards.

They played out in your mind’s eye like old film footage, unsteady and grainy with abrupt transitions from one detail to the next. Your mother crying. Two freshly dug graves side by side in Ivers Forest near your grandfather’s. Beskar reflecting moonlight. Blood dripping from your nose and Din’s voice telling you to stop before you kill yourself, no amount of magic will bring them back. Falling asleep beneath the stars and waking up to find your best friend never strayed from your side, silently guarding your slumber. The lifting of his helmet over a stubbled chin and jawline right before your lips pressed against his in a hard, bruising kiss. And then—

“Miss M?” Alistair said, and you returned to the present, blinking your eyes to find the young boy holding up a dark purple pouch full of smooth, colorful rocks you’d collected from Blue Creek. “Do you think she’ll like these?” he asked, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth again.

You pushed the memories to the back of your mind where they’ll lie in wait in the shadows, ready to pounce again the next time love is mentioned, and offered Alistair a kind smile. “Yeah, honey. I think she will.”

[caspian-the-seafarer]

Scent recommendations for Edmund!

I know I’ve said this for almost every other character, but Mahogany Teakwood works even better for him than it does for the others. Super deep, musky wood scent, makes me think of old libraries and the heavy scent in the air from old, untouched rooms.

In the same vein as the above, pine and balsam (think Christmas trees). Fresh Balsam and Fresh Fall Morning are my favorites from BBW, but they’re seasonal: the best year-round would probably be their men’s Forest scent. Any of their mens' scents with wood in them will have the right balance of musk and wood for Edmund, though.

Vanilla, but not the soft vanilla that most fragrances have in them, the really sharp scent of vanilla extract. Bonfire Bash is really close to this if you want to try that, but honestly there’s nothing that works quite as well as pure vanilla extract. Anything else that might remind you of old books works well too, but they always smell like vanilla to me.

Oranges, specifically mandarin, fit him perfectly. I’m not sure why, because most other citrus I would say works better for Peter or Lucy, but I associate mandarin super strongly with Edmund.

Requested by @ella-enchanted-42

[nostalgiabones]

One Year // C.H

This is number 5 from this prompt list, which I reblogged earlier! And a request from @calumrose, thank you, I hope you love this.🥺 Thank you everyone who has sent requests so far — I’ll be working through them! Find the prompt list here — please send me a name, which list and the number🥰 As always, feedback is really appreciated!

5. “Home stopped being a place when you entered my life.” 

Word count: 576 

“So... this time last year.”

You laugh softly at Calum’s words, turning over so you’re tucked into his side. You press your face to his chest, his skin warm beneath your cheek, goosebumps breaking out when you lightly trace your finger over the feather inked to his skin.

“You were still so nervous around me.” Calum continues, his fingertips smoothing up and down your back as you lay together. He thinks back to your first few dates, how you never really looked him in the eye for too long, and would always blush and look away whenever he complimented you. “I thought I’d never be able to tell you how pretty you are without you hiding from me.”

You remember the first time he called you gorgeous, the pet name slipping from his lips so naturally when he picked you up for your fourth date. He had been met with a bashful look — you didn’t say anything, but he could see in your eyes how it made you feel. It was from then you seemed to open up to him a little more, as you knew he really did like you.

“Don’t act like I was the only nervous one,” You retort, remembering how it took him to at least the fourth date to hold your hand. The first time he did, it felt like things fell into place — you had been walking alongside him towards the restaurant he chose, when your knuckles brushed his. He took the opportunity to gently link his fingers with your own, not completely taking your hand until you let him. You squeezed his hand in yours and he knew it was okay, and it just felt right. “It took you weeks to hold my hand.”

“Yes, because I didn’t want to scare you off,” He argues, kissing the tip of your nose when you look up at him. “You were nervous enough without me showing any affection towards you.”

“And look at us now,” You murmur, lifting your face to brush your lips against his in a sweet kiss. A year on from the day Calum had made it official, in your shared bed — one that a year ago, only belonged to him. “You get to hold my hand and kiss me whenever you like.”

Calum chuckles. He peppers kisses all over your face — across your cheeks and on your forehead. “What can I say, I’m a lucky man.”

“You don’t miss having your bed to yourself?” You ask, pulling the duvet up behind your back, to tuck yourself in next to him. His covers that only used to be his, now held the scent of the two of you combined — your perfume lingering on the pillow cases. He’d never felt so comfortable in his own house since you moved in.

“I never had it to myself, not since I got Duke.” He replies, gesturing to the sweet dog curled up on the foot of the bed. He never lost his place next to Calum, though — even the first time you stayed over at his place, he had worked his way between the two of you in the middle of the night. “But no, I don’t miss it. This house wouldn’t be the same without you here. Home stopped being a place when you entered my life.”

You sigh contently, pressing your face against his neck as he speaks. “Happy anniversary, my love. Here’s to many more.”

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

***

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[taylorinthetardis]

Wallflowers - A Henry Cavill x Reader fic

So I did a thing! Rather than continue to work on my larger, more complicated Pride and Prejudice fic, I decided to make a fanfic out of the fantasy I had at work the other day!

There will most likely be a part two to this, I just thought I was at a good stopping point and wanted to see what you guys thought about it.

Full disclosure: I didn’t mean for this to whole ass turn into a Bath and Body Works ad, but it kinda did. For those of you reading in countries that do not have Bath and Body Works, its basically just a body and home care store. In the US their scents are legendary. Pretty much every young girl went through a BBW phase where that was all they used for soap and perfume. That all being said, in the interest of further disclosure and covering my ass, I own neither Bath and Body Works nor any of the trademarks on the scents listed herein. I also do not own Henry Cavill because owning human beings is a crime.

This is my first Henry fic so be gentle with me! It’s a bit longer than I had anticipated and un-beta’d.

Warnings: just a lot of fluff. some self-deprecation. loads of swearing. don’t know if I should warn for slight bashing of the religious but I will anyway so no one gets mad at me.

Wallflowers

It was shaping up to be another boring ass day at Bath and Body Works. I had started working here during the Pandemic after I was laid off from my job at the movie theatre. I had planned on it only being temporary, but even after things got better and I got my theatre job back, I decided to stick around. What can I say; a bitch is broke. Nothing wrong with double-dipping.

There was something about Sunday mornings in the mall. Probably because people around here still went to church in the mornings. Like it matters. Sunday mornings are always so slow, here and at the theatre, but the day always picks up after 1, when morning church services finish. It was me and Samantha up in the front room this morning, working out the leftover boxes from yesterday’s shipment. She was one of the first people I really bonded with here, both of us being super into both Marvel and DC, specifically Sebastian Stan and Henry Cavill. They had just started filming the next Superman movie and they were going to be shooting scenes up in Michigan again, like they had for Dawn of Justice.

“I’m just saying, we should really consider asking for a few days off and just going up there and scoping it out. I mean, it’s Henry fucking Cavill. He’s less than an hour away from us. Right now. Less than an hour. When is that ever gonna happen again? I can use some of my vacation time at the theatre, so at least I’m not missing out on money from them. It’ll be a blast. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? We don’t see him? I mean at least we’d have tried. I’d rather try than stay down in stupid Ohio with the knowledge that he’s that close.”

“Do you really think Ann’s going to give us time off to stalk Superman?”

“We ain’t gonna tell her what it’s for! Just lie, c’mon now.” I laughed. I dropped a box of Gingham body cream into the understock drawer and broke the box down. Out of the corner of my eye I caught movement, oh goodie, a customer. Samantha was quicker to greet them.

“Welcome to Bath and Body… OH MY GOD!” I turned around and was met with the sight of none other than Henry fucking Cavill, sheepishly running his hand through his now jet-black curls, obviously embarrassed at having been recognized. Damn, am I glad I put make-up on this morning. Alright Y/N, this is your fucking chance. For once in your damn life, be fucking cool. You can do this. You look good, you smell like Champagne Toast, you’ve got this. I pulled my hair down from its messy bun and shook it out a bit before walking over to where Samantha was still trying to collect herself. The store radio started playing Halsey’s Bad at Love and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from bursting out laughing at the absurdity of the situation we were now in. Not five minutes ago we were talking about seeking him out and now here he was in all his brick-shithouse-ness. I looped my arm through Samantha’s in a show of support.

“What a wonderful coincidence! We were just talking about you and now here you are! It’s crazy how the universe works, isn’t it? I’m Y/N, this is Samantha; what can we help you with today, Henry?” I smiled my most adorable smile at him, the one that makes my little cheek dimple pop out, and, honestly, they both looked shocked. Samantha was clearly surprised that I was more capable of speech than she was, and to be honest so was I, and Henry seemed shocked that I would openly admit that we had been talking about him before he got there, which probably wasn’t a great thing to say, but I panicked.  

“Well, I was told this was the best place to go for candles and air freshener-y type things. The house I’m renting just has this odd odour that I can’t get rid of. I’ve been airing it out during the day, all the windows open, and I come home and it still smells funky. I know I could just find a different place, but it’s close to a park and that’s been nice for Kal and I don’t want to make a fuss, so…” Henry sort of shrugged, the buttons on his plaid shirt straining with the movement of his broad shoulders, and gestured around the store as if to say “that’s why I’m here”.

“Well, you’ve definitely come to the right place. All of our home care is in the second room, grab a basket, I’m sure we can find you some scents you’ll like.” He walked over to the basket tower to grab one as a couple more customers walked in. Samantha nudged me towards the second room; I was going to have to handle Henry alone for now, it seemed. He followed me over to the Wallflower wall. “So, these are our Wallflowers. They’re sort of like the Glade Plug-ins, I don’t know if you’ve seen those, you plug this diffuser into any power outlet and screw the fragrance bulb in and it diffuses the scented oil into the room. They last for about a month or so. These’ll probably be the best option for you, well these and maybe a room spray or two to start with. The candles are good, but obviously the scent is gonna be strongest when they’re burning and it’s probably not a great idea to light a bunch of candles and then leave for the whole day.”

He chuckled. “No, I’d say you’re right about that. I definitely don’t want to burn the place to the ground. Are there any scents that you’d recommend?”

“Well, I mean, it obviously all depends on your personal preferences. I like sweet scents. I like my space to be smelling like a bakery or a candy shop at all times, so I tend to go for anything like that. We actually still have some of our holiday scents that we’re trying to get rid of and there’s this really great one in that line called Spiced Apple Toddy. It smells like apple pie. I love it. It’s only out during fall and winter so I stocked up. I need it all year long, honestly. I still have so many other scents at home, but like I’m probably never gonna get sick of it, for real, it smells so good. Or I might go every other month swapping between that and Black Cherry Merlot because that’s awesome too. And then there’s Champagne Toast, I mean, that one might be a bit too feminine for you, but I love it. It’s sweet and just a tiny bit citrusy. I can’t do any of the floral or like, outdoorsy scents, they set my allergies off. And honestly there’s some of these that I smell them and I’m like, who is putting this in their house? Like, what nutjob thinks this scent is good? How many people have senses of smell that are this screwed up?” At this point I was rambling, talking excitedly and with my hands, handing him testers to smell and trying to gauge his reactions to know what to hand him next. He didn’t have any bad reactions to anything I gave him until I handed him the tester for Fresh Balsam. His nose scrunched up in the most adorable way and he very carefully set the tester down on the counter as far from him as he could manage. He handled my word-vomit good-naturedly, with a small smile on his face, nodding and chuckling when he thought something I had said was funny. Our fingers brushed a few times as I handed him the testers and after the third time, I began to feel like it was deliberate on his part, but it couldn’t have been, could it? He couldn’t really be interested in me. He’s Henry Cavill. I’m just, well, I’m just me.

Me, with my two minimum wage jobs, still living with my parents, inching ever closer to 30 years old. Why would he want any of that? Why would he be interested in me physically either? I mean, he’s literally flawless and I’m short, overweight, I eat like shit, I don’t exercise, hell, I barely know how to put on make-up correctly. Yeah, I look good today, but that’s not par-for-the-course.    

He put a few each of Cinnamon & Clove Buds, Black Cherry Merlot, Limoncello (for the bathrooms, he said), and Laundry Day (for the laundry room, obviously) in his basket along with enough of the plugs so he’d have one in each room. He also grabbed a Black Cherry Merlot and a Limoncello room spray off the shelf next to the Wallflower display before turning back to me. “So then, where do you keep this Spiced Apple Toddy that you like so much, or did you hide them so you could have them all to yourself?”

I chuckled nervously and ran my hand through my hair, sort of disbelieving that he was actually paying attention to what I had said. Boys never listen to me when I talk, I always have to repeat myself, but I guess that’s because I usually end up talking to the dumb ones. Henry’s not dumb. He really is just fucking perfect, isn’t he? Pretty and he listens? That shouldn’t be such a difficult combination to find, but for me it had been. “They’re on the table over here with the rest of our leftover Christmas stuff. Hopefully the tester is still there somewhere.” I put my hands in my apron pockets and I could feel the jolt of confidence I had had just minutes before leaving my body. His charm had worn me down, bringing me back to my normal, anxiety-ridden self. I caught the toe of my boot on the corner of one of the other tables as we walked towards the center of the room. I stumbled, but before I could fall his arm was already out to steady me, wrapping around my waist to keep me upright.

“Are you alright Y/N?” A look of genuine concern was on his face and I swear to God I swooned. Like, fuck, I just stubbed my stupid toe, it’s not that serious. I mean yeah, I stubbed my toe and then almost fell into a table covered with candles in glass holders, but like, I didn’t fall, you caught me, please stop looking at me like you care. You can’t give me that much hope. It isn’t fair. And goddamnit I love the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth. Like, fuck it’s never sounded so good. This isn’t fair, why is this happening?

“Yeah, Henry I’m fine, just a stubbed toe. Thank you for…you know.” I gestured down to his arm, which was still around my waist. The sound of me bumping into the table drew the attention of the rest of my co-workers, however, who were now coming out of their various positions to see what was going on and to make sure no one had broken anything. Samantha popped her head in from the front room and Kelynn and Mira came out from the cashwrap with Pilar and walked to the edge of the third room to peek in. All they saw was me, blushing profusely, with Henry Cavill’s beefy-ass arm still wrapped around my fucking waist. “Everything’s fine guys. I promise.”

“Holy shit, is that…”

“Mira!”

“But Kelynn that’s fucking Superman!”

“You can’t cuss in front of him Mira, he’s a customer!”

“Will you guys cut it out? You’re embarrassing us in front of the hunky British dude!”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea. How about we all pretend like this isn’t happening right now? Pilar can go back to the cashwrap, you two can go back to whatever it was you were doing, and I’ll go back to what I was doing, namely making a damn sale!” I extricated myself from Henry’s grasp so I could shoo them back towards the cashwrap. They turned and walked away, bewildered looks on their faces. I turned back to Henry who was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his curls, leaving them messier than they were before. An errant one fell over his forehead and I wanted to brush it out of the way, but he just left it.

I walked over to the table that I was originally heading for and found the Spiced Apple Toddy Wallflowers. There wasn’t that many left, but there was still a tester. I grabbed it and spun around to bring it to him, assuming he hadn’t followed me, but as I turned, I found myself going face first into his massive chest. I put my unoccupied hand up to steady myself and pushed on his chest to force him back. He was just too close. Why was he so close? He opened his mouth to say something but I beat him to it. “Here. This is what I have in my bedroom right now, this is Spiced Apple Toddy.” Oh god, why did I say it like that? The one I have in my bedroom. Jesus Christ. He quirked his eyebrow at me and cocked his head to the side, smirking a little. Instead of taking the tester from me, he took my much smaller hand in his, guiding it up towards his face so the tester was close to his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A serene smile spread across his face and I felt my face get hotter. He opened his eyes, looking down into mine. Fuck I could drown in those ocean eyes.

“Oh, I like that very much. You were right. I think that one’s my favourite.”

[ms-m-astrologer]

Sunday, July 28, 2019

The latest long-term void of course Moon has befallen us - 20 hours and change. I do feel that Gemini is a difficult sign for a void Moon, as it is already prone to fidgeting and logorrhea, and the notoriously short Gemini attention span becomes even more of a challenge. (Remember, I’m a Gemini, and I’m allowed to bash my own sign!) It really is a shame, too, for the two trine (Venus-Ceres and Sun-Chiron) deserve better. But maybe it’s just as well, because the rest of the aspects would be a lot more sobering were it not for the flippant Gemini void Moon. We’ll need to be careful that those flippant attitudes bring anger on us, as Gemini’s ruler (Mercury) squares the Goddess of Discord (Eris)

What’s happening when:

Lunar Phase: Last Quarter Moon (turn away from, tear down structures)

Moon/Gemini

Vesta/Taurus square Juno/Leo, 2:58 am MDT

Ceres/Sagittarius semi-square Saturn Rx/Capricorn, 9:05 am MDT

Moon/Gemini void of course, 9:24 am MDT

Venus/Leo trine Ceres/Sagittarius, 12:54 pm MDT

Lunar Phase: Balsamic Moon (let go of the past, envision the future), 20:25 Gemini, 12:58 pm MDT

Sun/Leo trine Chiron Rx/Aries, 9:43 pm MDT

Mercury Rx/Cancer square Eris Rx/Aries, 3:43 am MDT (Monday)

Moon enters Cancer, 5:31 am MDT

Looking ahead to Monday: sensitive in the face of insanity

(Please note that MDT is six hours behind UT.)

[reckonslepoisson]

… I Care Because You Do, Aphex Twin (1995)

I Care Because You Do is well-known for having blended the manic beat programming of Richard D. James’ Selected Ambient Works 85-92 and the unrushed ambience of Selected Ambient Works II, yet the quality with which it did this is often underappreciated. James bashes his way between intense, unrelenting and frankly testing drill-n-drum-n-bass tracks (‘Start As You Mean To Go On’, ‘Come On You Slags’) and mellower, more atmospheric cuts (‘Mookids’, ‘Alberto Balsam’) with the odd obvious foray into some Philip Glass-esque orchestral minimalism (‘Icct Hedral’, ‘Next Heap With’). James’ usual, iconic disregard for standard notions of style, tempo and time signatures make this an unmissable project from a legendary and essential artist, and hasn’t dulled in the almost-twenty-five years since.

Pick: ‘The Waxen Pith’

[dcddyrecper]

Balsam -

Balsam - When your muse falls in love, how hard do they fall? Do they outwardly express their passion?

LOVE, is a peculiar thing for Dee, he has to feel something to be with anyone there aren't really any one night stands where he is concerned. An entity of immense power and one capable of knowing so much about a person always makes things like love harder. So for Dee, its more a case of if he loves someone he has to pause to examine the emotion, take a moment to reflect on it since love is so difficult, it might happen with out him even noticing it has happened, until it bashes him over the head.

However, when he loves someone he is absolutely committed, he will work time out in his busy schedule, little gifts, but most of all his precious time. Since that is the biggest gift that Death can give anyone.  Time, because it is so precious.

Is he passionate ? He can be.  He outwardly shows his passion more with small touches, and with warmth. Where normally Death with be cold and withdrawn. So while he might not climb buildings and shout poetry, or jump on someone couch about it. He is very much give to expressing it. Passion in its truest form is saved for quiet and intimate times.

@tuixbeloved

[porkchop-ao3]

What about a fic where doofus rick gets all dressed up for the reader? I'm talking suit and tie, brushed back hair, lookin hot like a tamale 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 lol, sorry if this is a weird request

Not a wierd request at all, after seeing drawings of Doofus Rick in a suit curtesy of @dorklyevil I think we all need more haha ;3

2.5K words, SFW with an implied sexual relationship, and some flirting :3 enjoy!

-

The sound of my doorbell ringing surprised me at first, it was so rare for me to have visitors turn up unannounced in the evening. It was almost six o'clock and I was nearly finished cooking dinner; spinach and ricotta cannelloni, there was plenty of it and it’d keep in the fridge to last me a few days. My heart fluttered as my mind turned to one of the only people I knew who would come to see me at this time of day. Rick. I knew that he’d been visiting the citadel all weekend, helping out with an event that was going on, MortyCon, was it? Well, he’d invited me along to whatever it was but work unfortunately meant I’d had to decline.

I stopped myself from thinking about Rick too much, I’d only be disappointed if I opened up the door to find Mrs. Burnstein from next door coming to apologise for her dog chewing up my daffodils again. I left the kitchen mid-way through chopping up tomatoes for my salad and headed for the door. My heart picked up again when I saw the silhouette of someone tall and slender through the mosaic glass window, and it practically shot out of my chest when I actually opened up the door and got a better look at him. I’d thought his clothes looked darker through the glass, so used to seeing his white lab coat, but Rick was stood there, smiling at me sheepishly… wearing a suit. A full blown three piece, tie and everything, all in navy blue apart from his perfect white shirt underneath. His hair was different too, his usual bowl cut had been swept back out of his face, held there by some sort of hair product. I could smell something pleasant wafting from him, Rick always smelled good but today he smelled particularly appealing… like sandalwood, fresh and invigorating.

As I stared at him, I seemed to forget myself, it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind that he was looking right back at me and he was probably expecting some kind of greeting. Instead I was slack jawed and silent, completely stunned by the tall glass of water stood before me. His face, however, morphed from a pleasant smile to a look of worry as my silence stretched on.

“O-oh my, I-I-I haven’t come at a bad time, have I? I should have called ahead, I apologise… n-not everyone likes surprises, I should’ve been more sensitive.” He apologised, his eyes softening and his hands sliding into his pockets dejectedly.

“No! No… I’m sorry. I’m very pleased to see you, honey! I’m just…” I breathed out a pleasant sigh as my eyes rolled back down his body. He looked an absolute dream. “You look…” I shook my head, struggling to think of an adjective that truly captured what I wanted to say. Rick winced.

“I-I-I must look extremely overdressed. I, um, I just came from an event. A MortyCon event, a… a ball.” He stammered, avoiding my eyes and flushing.

“A ball?” I questioned, wondering for a while about the fact that a ball seemed like an odd event for a Morty convention. I shook my head and chuckled to myself, pulling my door open wide and stepping aside to let him in. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why we’re still standing on the doorstep, come in. I was going to say that you look very handsome. Don’t worry about feeling overdressed, I certainly won’t complain.” I flashed him a cheeky smile as he stepped through the door, a bashful, toothy expression crossed his face as he toed his shoes off in the entryway.

“Oh, y-y-you think so? Oh, th-thank you. It’s just- it’s just a suit that’s been sitting at the back of my wardrobe for years. I rarely have a reason to dress up these days.” He said, standing in the hallway as I shut the door. I waved him through to the sitting room and he ventured in, he was always very polite when visiting my home, and would never do anything that he feared could be considered rude. I’d tried to reassure him that my home was practically his home and he could do as he pleased here, but he hadn’t yet gathered the boldness to fully relax.

Rick took a seat on the sofa, his attention on the TV, which was tuned into a music channel playing rock music from the seventies. I watched him for a moment, taking in his swept back hair and his lovely neat attire, I couldn’t help but swoon. He was incredibly handsome. I walked over to the back of the sofa and rubbed his shoulders gently, feeling him tense for a moment before relaxing and tilting his head back to look up at me. I leaned down and kissed his forehead once before giving him a smile.

“Care for some dinner, handsome? There’s plenty for two.” I asked him. “Spinach and ricotta cannelloni; your recipe.” I added.

“Ohh, you like that recipe?” He sat up, turning around to face me with an excited expression on his face that made my heart soar. I nodded.

“I love it! You must tell me more of your secrets, perhaps I’ll get to be half as good a cook as you one day.” I chuckled.

“I’m more than happy to give you more recipes. I’d love to stay for dinner, I-I-I’m sure it’s going to be delicious, just as good, if not better than what I could do!”

“You can be the judge of that once you’ve tried it.” I laughed, flushing under his unearned praise. “I’m going to finish up. Feel free to change the channel if this isn’t to your taste, dinner won’t be a moment.” I told him, turning and heading back to the kitchen.

It didn’t take me long to finish up the salad and I was soon placing steamy plates full of pasta on the dining table along with a big bowl of salad; full of mixed leaves, sliced up peppers, tomatoes and cucumber, with a little balsamic dressing drizzled over and tossed through. I called Rick over and we each took a seat next to each other. I munched on a wedge of tomato as he picked up a forkful of pasta; I watched him as inconspicuously as I could, waiting to see his reaction. Well, for that reason and because I could barely keep my eyes off him, still not used to seeing him so polished and formal.

“Careful, it’ll be hot.” I warned just before he plopped it into his mouth. He paused and blew on it for a moment, smiling gratefully at me. I noticed he started to fidget under my gaze, clearly made self conscious by my watching. Instead, I dropped my eyes down to the tie he was wearing. It was a real whopper, straight from the seventies with brightly coloured garish patterns. There were oranges and reds with pops of green and blue, thread woven in that shifted colour in different angles and lighting. I lived for that kind of thing, and I remembered mentioning this to Rick a few weeks ago on a trip to a department store. We’d passed a display full of ties, quite similar to this one, and he’d chuckled as I gushed over the frankly ugly ties, I’d explained how much more interesting they were than the regular, more modern designs. I pondered that moment for a while, watching as a blue triangle shape shifted to orange with Rick’s movements.

“Mmm! Wow.” Rick murmured, holding a hand politely in front of his mouth as he chewed and swallowed, elaborating on the noises he made once his mouth was empty. “This is really good, (y/n)! It t-t-tastes a little different to when I make it, have you done something different?”

“Oh, well yes… I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” I chuckled, blushing. “I didn’t have all of the fresh herbs your recipe called for, I had to use a dried italian mix as a sort of substitute.” I admitted.

“You must show me which mix you used! This gives it a lovely flavor.” He said, and I was pleased that my slightly less fresh, pre prepared set of herbs hadn’t disappointed him. I tucked into my own meal, feeling rather proud of myself.

“I will.” I smiled. “So how was MortyCon?” I asked, and his face lit up.

“Oh, it was wonderful! S-so much was going on. J-just like with RickCon, but I find MortyCon has a slightly different atmosphere. I-i-it’s a little more relaxed, fun, friendlier… I guess because less Rick’s attend. There really are only a few Rick’s helping with crowd control and otherwise just supervising, the rest is up to the M-M-Mortys.” He explained. “My favourite part was the gaming center, I’ve never seen so many smiling Mortys, they played all sorts; card games, board games, r-role playing games. And just outside the gaming room there was a Rick handing out free ice cream to the winners of each game. He had is own ice cream truck, I th-think he was at RickCon, now I mention it.” He pondered aloud to himself thoughtfully.

“That’s nice of him. I can imagine MortyCon would be very different, I’m sorry I couldn’t go with you. Perhaps next time.” I smiled. “How was the ball?” I asked.

“The ball?” He repeated.

“Yes. The ball you said you came straight from.” I reminded him and his eyes widened.

“Oh! Of course. I-I-I’m sorry, I don’t know where my head was at.” He chuckled, turning pink. “It… it was nice. It was- well, it was more of a dinner party than a ball, I suppose.” He said, looking down at his plate.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into having dinner! I hadn’t considered that you’d eaten already, don’t force yourself to eat on my behalf.” I said, suddenly feeling guilty.

“No! That’s not- oh, I don’t know what to say. Forgive me.” He said sadly. “I actually… well, I-I-I lied.” He stammered, his eyes wide, mortified and guilty. I paused, cocking a brow at him. Despite the fact that he’d lied, I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He was a bad liar, obviously, he hadn’t kept it up for long at all. He was too kind.

“Um, okay. What did you lie about?” I asked, utterly confused.

“There wasn’t a ball, or a dinner party. I made that up.” He sighed, placing his fork down. “Truth is, I-I-I felt really bad that you couldn’t come with me, and I’d be gone for the whole weekend. So I… oh this feels very silly and presumptive, I’m embarrassed.” He muttered.

“Rick? It’s okay. I’m not going to be mad or anything.” I said softly, reaching out to rub my fingertips soothingly over the back of his hand.

“Re-remember when we went to that department store the other week, and we walked through the men’s section?” I asked.

“Yes.” I nodded, smiling at the memory that filled my mind for the second time that day.

“Well you really liked the ties there. Y-you looked really pleased when you were browsing through all those bright colours. An-and you also told me you like it when men wear suits and ties. You’ve mentioned it a number of times, actually…” He trailed off with a chuckle. I cleared my throat and looked away sheepishly, thinking back to the other times I recalled mentioning my penchant for a man in a suit.

There was my sister’s wedding, which Rick and I had planned on going to together before it got cancelled at the last minute. There was the time I was flicking through the fashion magazine left behind on our table in our favourite coffee shop, that was full of pretty people in expensive suits and dresses. There was also the time on our vacation to Spain when Rick had dressed up in a nice navy blazer to go out to dinner, the closest I’d seen to him wearing a suit and I’d had a glass of wine too many. I’d drooled a little too much over him that night, and I’d embarrassed myself despite his reassurance and kindness. There were plenty of other memories too, and I wondered if Rick ever got sick of listening to me spout off about such shallow things.

“Sorry about that.” I said in a small voice.

“No, it’s not- it’s completely fine. That’s actually why I’m dressed like this. I was be-being silly but I thought you might like it. I wanted to make you happy since you couldn’t come with me. N-now I think about it a little more, it sounds very self absorbed and egotistical, to think y-y-you’d be happy with this, that I could make up for it just by putting on a suit. You d-deserve better than that.” He said, his tone full of shame.

“You dressed up just for me?” I asked.

“Yes.” He nodded, peeking up at me. My heart picked up, and I suddenly felt like a little school girl. I was flattered, giddy, touched and excited all at the same time.

“While I don’t think you need to make anything up to me- it was works fault that I couldn’t come- I’m very flattered that you’d put in this effort to make me happy. It certainly worked; I am happy. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve barely been able to look away. You look incredible.” I said softly, smiling at him and watching his features relax.

“You think so? Honestly, I fe-feel a little silly.” He laughed.

“Well you don’t look silly.” I whispered, turning in my chair slightly to face him. I kissed his cheek and brought my hand up to his head. I brushed my hand over his hair, careful not to dislodge any locks. Whatever product he used in his hair, it still felt silky and soft, not like that crispy hairspray texture. Up close I could smell more of that sandalwood and inhaled deeply, leaning in for a kiss on the lips. Rick turned to face me more and placed his hand on my thigh, responding to the kiss with his characteristic tenderness. I moaned softly into the kiss, a small sound that I hoped conveyed my appreciation.

Rick pulled away first, glancing at his plate of food. I knew he’d be worrying about it going cold, or even going to waste, but I wasn’t bothered. That’s what microwaves were for.

“Your hair like this makes you look very suave, stylish. You look like you could be a spy or something. Like James Bond. Or maybe a really powerful businessman. But mostly you look like my very smart, very attractive boyfriend.” I giggled, going in for another kiss. He kissed back immediately, pressing closer to me, chasing my lips with his own whenever I pulled back just a little to tease him.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying; th-this treatment is certainly encouraging me to dress up more often. Perhaps we could go to that new fan-fancy restaurant in town one evening?” He murmured against my lips. I giggled, biting my lip and pulling back a little to look him in the eye.

“Well, I’m being encouraged to ditch this cannelloni and drag you upstairs, Mr. Sanchez. You’re much tastier and you’re very good at being irresistible.” I said, feeling heat creep underneath my skin, all over. I was buzzing with enthusiasm, with desire.

“Ohh.. oh wow.” He chuckled, looking down and flushing. I caught his eye again, tilting his head up with a finger under his chin. I quirked a brow at him suggestively. “What about the food?” He asked.

“We can just reheat it once we’ve worked up an appetite, how does that sound?” I asked, and that was all the convincing he needed.

[boney-lizette]

Cheers to 50 Years!! A Fabulous Birthday Bash at Pier 52, Fall River, MA https://www.pier52ferry.com/ A night of celebration for a beautiful person filled with perfect weather, wonderful company, lovely views, great music and dancing, and delicious food and drinks. Appetizers: Bailey’s on ice Crab Cake with Hollandaise Sauce Cheese and Melon with Balsamic Vinaigrette Avocado Toast Dinner: Shirley Temple Caesar Salad Chicken Alfredo Lobster Tail Dessert: Golden Cake with Raspberry Preserves and Buttercream Frosting https://www.instagram.com/p/CiJDS4Bp1THku2IKWNmcUdTGu4xKupqqwaMRa80/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[andreadewhurst]

A spot of balsam bashing already! Apparently balsam is also tasty to eat. There's certainly plenty of it about to forage, I might try a recipe so watch this space! 🌱🌿☘️

[nostalgiabones]

Sugar Rush and Nap Time // Uncle!Calum

Back with another Uncle!Calum blurb! The reader in this is non-gendered, as I’m trying my best to make my writing more inclusive! If I can improve on this in anyway, please let me know! Feedback is always appreciated, and send any requests that you have here ♥️

“Did you have fun today, Harper?”

Calum raises his voice a little so the three year old in the back of the car could hear him — he wants to keep her entertained whilst driving her back home. You wait for her response, the youngest Clifford being the most talkative by far — it was rare you’d get a quiet moment when she was around.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion when she didn’t reply — turning around from the front passenger seat to make sure she was okay. A quiet groan slipped from your lips when you were met with the sight of Harper, fast asleep in her car seat. Fast asleep, even though it was past four in the afternoon, and Michael had strictly instructed you not to let her nap past three.

“Cal...” You sigh, knowing Michael and his partner would have their work cut out for them for the rest of the day. “She’s asleep.”

“Nooooo,” Calum groans, running a hand through his messy hair, as if he was already trying to think of a way to explain to Michael why he let his daughter nap so late in the afternoon. “Michael said to make sure she stays awake after three.”

“I know, I was there when he said it.” You reply, remembering how much Michael had hammered the point that she wasn’t to nap so late in the day. The sweets would have to be a secret. As much as you and Calum both tried to resist her request, as soon as she looked up at you with her big green eyes — you were done for. Calum is sure she could convince him to do anything, as long as she looks at him like that. “Apparently a sugar rush doesn’t last as long as we thought.”

“Michael is gonna kill us.” Calum warns you, thinking of any excuse he could come up with as to why she was asleep. You and Calum have only been together for around eight months — he had only recently introduced you to Harper, not wanting to confuse her if you weren’t in it for the long haul. Calum and Harper are very close — it’s clear that Calum worships her, and they have a strong bond. It definitely felt like a big step forward when Michael decided it was time for you to meet her. “We have about ten minutes for her to wake up before we’re never allowed to babysit again.”

Ten minutes later, Calum pulls up to Michael’s drive, Harper’s quiet snores still occupying the space as she snoozed. Michael notices the car straight away — opening the front door and letting Moose and South run up to the car to greet you all.

“Where’s my favourite girl?” Michael calls out, expecting Harper to jump out of the car and run towards him, like she usually does. Moose jumps up at Calum’s legs as he opens the back door to the car, so he can get Harper out.

“Hi, sleepy head.” Calum murmurs to her, brushing her fair hair out of her face as she realises where they are. She doesn’t quite wake up, but let’s Calum pick her up and clings to him like a sloth as he holds her. She wraps her arms around his neck, her face hiding against his shoulder as he closes the door behind him. “Wakey wakey.”

“Please tell me she isn’t asleep.” Michael spots Harper curled up in Calum’s arms, a tell tale sign that she had been napping on the drive over. Michael had been making her dinner, knowing she would be home soon — although now he knows he’s going to have a grumpy three year old on his hands. “It’s definitely not nap time.”

“She isn’t anymore.” Calum looks at Harper’s sleepy face — cheeks flushed and warm from sleep, a hand lifting to rub her eyes as she came around a little more. Michael groans and rolls his eyes, yet he can’t help but smile at the sight of her in Calum’s arms. “Before you say anything else... it was only ten minutes.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes ten minutes is all it takes.” Michael holds his arms out towards Calum, gesturing for him to hand Harper over to her. His heart melts as Harper spots him — a smile growing on her face as she cuddles into him. “Hi, sweetheart. Did you have a fun day? Are you ready for some dinner?”

“We took Duke to the park,” She sleepily mumbles, a yawn slipping from her lips as she recounts the fun day she had spent with you and Calum. “And we had ice cream.”

“Ice cream? Not only have you had a late nap, but sugar too? You did have a fun day, didn’t you?” Michael rubs her back as he carries her into the house, you and Calum following behind them. Calum’s bashful expression doesn’t fade as he listens to Michael talk. “I’m glad you had fun, baby.”

Michael tries not to be the bad guy. He doesn’t want to make you and Calum feel guilty for treating Harper, especially when he knows how much she loves spending time with you. She always comes back from your days out in such a good mood, happily telling him all about what you got up to.

“Can I have a cuddle before we go, Harper?” Calum asks, kneeling down and holding his arms out to her before you head home. Michael kisses her forehead and sets her down on the ground, waiting until she was steady on her feet before she runs towards him. She wraps her arms around his neck in a sweet hug, giggling when Calum picks her up. “Thanks for such a fun day, bubs. We’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Bye, Uncle Cal.” She says, resting her head on his shoulder as he holds her. “Can we go to the park again soon?”

“Of course, whenever you want!” Calum reassures her, more than happy to take care of her whenever she wanted to spend the day with you.

“Bye, angel.” You place a hand on her back in Calum’s arms, waving goodbye before she holds her arms out for you, so you can hug her too. “I get a hug too?! That’s so sweet Harper.”

“Bye bye.” Harper waves from her spot on Michael’s hip as they stand in the door way, saying goodbye whilst you and Calum get back in the car.

“I’ll be calling you in the middle of the night when she won’t sleep.” Michael explains, knowing he’s got his work cut out for the next few hours. He wouldn’t have it any other way, though. “Thanks guys.”

A few hours later, you’re tucked up with Calum on the sofa, each with a glass of wine in your hand — Duke cuddled up next to Calum as you watch a movie.

“See, this is the best part about being the fun relatives,” Calum starts, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. He can already feel the tiredness setting into his bones, behind his eyes, from running around after Harper all day. He has no plans to move for the rest of the evening. “Michael is probably battling with Harper to get her to go to bed right now. We just get to do the easy parts.”

“You’re right,” You chuckle, turning your face to kiss his cheek. Children wasn’t something the two of you had really discussed yet, but no matter what happened in the future — you would always have the guys’ sweet children to dote on. “Sounds perfect to me.”

***

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