#daffodil-mania

[daffodil-mania]

The Itch, pt. 3

Stanford era!Sam Winchester x fem!Reader. Swearing, sexually suggestive/explicit language, mentions of drugs and alcohol

Author’s notes: Y’all we are sO CLOSE to the smut I promise. I almost ended this series with this one but (spoiler alert) I felt like I just couldn’t until some smut happens. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Lmk what you think <3

—

You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming.

Because there’s no fucking way that you, a regular, ordinary Stanford freshman, are actually standing in the living room of one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. And there is definitely no way that he’s making a trip downstairs to the communal laundry room in his apartment building to wash your shirts that he accidentally spilled a drink on. And there is definitely, absolutely, no motherfucking way that he’s eye fucked you tonight. Multiple times.

You pinch yourself. Hard.

You’re not dreaming. Here you stand, in Sam’s apartment, wide awake, waiting for him to get back with your laundry. A feeling akin to getting zapped with 5,000 volts of electricity surges through you at that realization, and it sends you scrambling to find Sam’s bathroom. You stagger into it and find that, much like the rest of his apartment, it’s pristine; and for some reason, that only makes you want to fuck him more. You shudder. Your eyes land on the mirror and you stare at your reflection; you look like you’ve done approximately 20 lines of cocaine — your cheeks are a deep red, and your pupils are blown so wide your eyes almost look black. You turn on the sink and bend to splash some cold water on your face. You pat your face dry as gently as you can with a hand towel, and then press your now icy hands to your cheeks. You shut your eyes and try to take in some deep, calming breaths, and while the exercise does help tone down your arousal, it does fuck all for your nerves.

After a minute you open your eyes and gaze at yourself in the mirror, and decide a pep talk is in order. You inhale and exhale one last time, and grip the edges of Sam’s sink. “Calm. Down.” You command your reflection firmly, pressing your lips into a thin line to emphasize your point. “He’s just a guy. And if you want to fuck this guy, you have to chill out. He’ll be back in a few minutes; until then, you have got to get a grip. Fix your hair, fix your makeup, whatever. But calm. Down.” You push away from the mirror, feeling slightly calmer but also a little silly. You play with your hair, trying to muss it in a way that’ll look effortlessly sexy. When you’re satisfied, you dig into your jacket pocket for your lip gloss and mascara and touch up your makeup. After you’re finished primping you attempt to make sexy (but not too sexy) faces in the mirror, but quickly drop the act out of embarrassment.

At this rate, you’ll never get laid again.

You shake your head and leave Sam’s bathroom, turning the light off as you do. You make your way over to his couch and plop down on it, and you’re pleased to discover that it’s just as comfy as it looks. You take off your jacket and the zip-up hoodie Sam lent you, deciding to neatly fold the latter, placing it gently on the coffee table, your own jacket lying messily beside you on the couch. You smooth your hands over your denim-clad thighs and take in a shaky breath. You rack your brain for something, anything, to occupy your thoughts until Sam returns. Oh fuck, Sam is gonna come back soon. The thought makes you shiver, and you find yourself compelled to dig through your jacket pockets for something to touch up your makeup again. You once again pull out the lip gloss; it's your favorite because the sheer pink color has a flirty, girlish quality to it, which has traditionally worked very well for you, and you pray that history repeats itself tonight. You smooth another thin layer on your bottom lip and rub your lips together in a way that hopefully won’t ruin your gloss the second you start talking.

You drum your fingers nervously on your legs and let out a puff of air. Your stomach is flip flopping like crazy and you’re not sure how much more of this you can take when you hear footsteps out in the hallway. You jump, your heart beating wildly in your chest, and you feel your hands start to shake and sweat with nerves. But the footsteps recede, and you draw in a slow breath while you sink back into the cushions of the couch and curse yourself for being the stupid, turned on, nervous wreck you are.

No sooner do you start actually relaxing than the door to Sam’s apartment swings open and you shoot to your feet, whipping around to face the entryway. Sam closes and locks the door behind him in a very deliberate manner, and you swallow the knot that’s forming in your throat, clenching and unclenching your hands at your sides. He looks as wound up as you feel, which is a small comfort. He draws a shaky breath as he turns, his eyes raking up and down your frame swiftly, triggering another wave of uncomfortable horniness. The pair of you lock eyes and you need his clothes off now, right now, and you’re about to tell him as much when he speaks.

“Your, uh, clothes should be done washing in about thirty minutes,” he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and continues, “a-and I figured I’d put them in the dryer after that. Wouldn’t want to get you soaked more than once tonight.” Your face feels like it’s on fire, and Sam’s eyes widen so much that it would be comical if your nerves weren’t making you feel as if you’re about to throw up. His face turns scarlet as he realizes the implication of his words. “Jesus, fuck, I-I meant your shirts, I wouldn’t want your shirts to be soaked, n-not—”

You can’t fucking take it anymore. You don’t even need your itch to drive you at this point; you’re acting of your own volition. You cross the room with a determination that stops Sam’s stuttering apology dead in its tracks, and once you’re in front of him you grab his collar and pull his mouth down to yours. Sam groans and the sound almost makes you cum on the spot, but then he spins you so you’re pinned against his door and kisses you back with a ferocity that makes your head spin. Your hands fly to the back of his head and root in his hair while his arms wrap around your waist, pressing you against the solid wall of muscle that is his chest, and a moan bubbles out of you before you can stop it.

Somehow, Sam manages to pull you even closer and laves his tongue across your bottom lip. You part your lips, allowing him access to the inside of your mouth, and Sam slots his tongue against yours. Your tongues dance together, fighting for dominance until Sam runs out of air and has to pull away panting. You start to plant sloppy kisses down his neck, leaving a trail down to his collarbone, and Sam laughs breathlessly. “Y-you’re insatiable,” he gasps, turning his head to face you. One of his sinfully large hands comes up to the back of your head and pulls you off of him and you bite your lip in order to suppress a whine. His hand smooths your hair away from your face and comes to rest against your cheekbone as the other moves to cradle your jawline. You are completely malleable at this point; you are his to do with however he pleases, and he knows it. Sam gives you a syrupy sweet smile and a traitorously blissful smile spreads over your face before you can even try to stop it.

“Hey.” He sighs as his eyes take in every inch of your face, his thumbs now caressing your jaw and cheek. “Hey,” you breathe back, your hands snaking up to loosely grip his wrists, and he clears his throat, bracing himself for whatever it is he’s about to say. “I really like you—” he states gently, and you can feel the but coming from miles away and suddenly the incredible weight of your stupidity is crashing down on you, breaking your euphoric trance, “—but I want to do this right.”

You blink.

Oh. Well. That’s not what you had expected.

“I wanna take you out on a date, i-if that’s okay. You know, get to know you. I don’t want this to be just a hookup; I mean, you seem like a really cool girl, and I—” you stop his rambling in its tracks by placing a finger against his plush lips. An intoxicating tidal wave of relief and giddiness floods your gut, and you feel like you’re about to be swept away with happiness. His mouth makes an adorable “o” shape in surprise, and you give him another smile, barely containing your excitement. “That sounds more than okay. I’d really like to get to know you, too, Sam, and I certainly don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” Sam grins, really grins, and one of his eyebrows twitches upwards as he does. “Yeah?” You nod, your flimsy facade quickly giving way to your dorky elation. “Yeah.”

You barely get the word out when Sam dives back in for another kiss. You let out a squeak in surprise, which in turn prompts a laugh from Sam. Soon the two of you are giggling so hard it’s hard to stay upright, much less kiss. But the two of you give it a valiant effort, connecting your kiss-swollen lips over and over, passing breathless laughs between each other. Eventually the two of you manage to stumble over to Sam’s couch, and while at first you’re kissing whilst sitting side by side, things quickly take a turn for the horizontal. Sam’s hovering above you, pressing against you in all the right places — well. Except for one place, but you figure that that will come soon enough — no pun intended.

You resist the urge to rub your thighs together for some friction and gently push Sam away from you. Sam’s brow knits together in concern, his eyes sweeping your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. “Everything okay?” He inquires, his voice soft and genuine. You nod, pursing your lips. You feel hot and itchy and your core fucking aches with want. You take a deep breath to steel yourself. “Yeah, it’s just…” You wet your lips and manage to rush out, “I’m just really turned on right now and I know you said you wanted to do things right, and I do too, but I’m afraid that if you don’t get off of me right now I’m gonna fuck you stupid.” The words escape you in a rush and you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for Sam’s inevitable awkward shuffle off of you and the even more awkward solitary walk you’ll shortly be making out Sam’s front door. But Sam doesn’t get off of you, and you never leave the couch. Instead, after it feels like hours have gone by, you slowly open one of your eyes to look up at Sam. His face is crimson and he blinks down at you slowly, his eyes glazed and unseeing. His head drops down to your shoulder, and you can’t be sure, but you’re almost positive a small whimpered “fuck” leaves him as he does.

“Are.. you… okay?” You tentatively inquire, afraid that you’ve somehow broken this beautiful boy’s brain. You feel him shake his head slowly, and with a deep breath, Sam pushes himself off of you, raising up so that he’s sitting beside you on the couch. You awkwardly scooch over to make room for him, and assume a sitting position yourself, not entirely sure what’s about to happen. Sam swallows, and you raise an eyebrow expectantly, pulling your knees to your chest.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just…” he trails off as he sinks back into the couch cushions, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. You shift slightly closer to him. “Yeah? You’re just what?” You murmur, resting your chin on your knees. Sam squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m just… promise you won’t laugh?” He winces. You nod. “I promise. What’s up?”

Sam takes in another shaky breath and opens his eyes, turning to look at you. “What you said. I really, really want that. You… have no idea how much. A-and I’m having a hard time… controlling… myself.” He says, his words coming out in a slow, deliberate manner. Your face flushes scarlet, and you feel very warm. “O-oh. I see.” Sam nods. “Yeah. It’s dorky, I know. It feels like I’m a freshman in highschool all over again.” He laughs awkwardly, and you’re quick to jump to his defense. “I don’t think it’s dorky. It’s… nice.” Sam cocks an eyebrow. “Nice?”

“Yeah, nice. Kind of… hot, even. It’s… well, it’s nice. To be wanted like that. Especially by a guy like you.” Sam looks extremely puzzled by that, and shifts closer to you. “A guy like me? What do you mean?”

If you felt warm before you are burning now. “W-well, I mean, you’re um, you’re funny. And smart. And you’re really… sweet. Most guys aren’t like that. Especially n-not really, uh…” you clear your throat. “…Especially not really hot guys.” You avert your gaze, suddenly fascinated with the wood grain on Sam’s apartment floor.

You feel Sam’s fingers gently slide under your chin and move your head to face him. You don’t know what you expect to see when your eyes meet his; but what you’re definitely not expecting is how soft and tender his gaze is. Your lips part, and Sam swoops in for a kiss. This kiss isn’t like the others; it’s not fueled by wanton need, and there’s no rushing. It’s undoubtedly passionate, but in a pleasantly understated way. It feels like someone has stirred up the embers of your arousal in your gut, and when Sam pulls away, your lips chase after his. He tucks your hair behind your ear with a grin. “What was that for?” You whisper.

“Well, I just got a string of compliments from a really, really pretty girl, and I really, really wanted to kiss her.” Sam murmurs, his face inches from yours. “Do you think she minded?” You shake your head. “Not at all. You should probably give her another kiss, though.”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“Well, something tells me she’ll give you another compliment if you do.”

Sam nods slowly. “Ah, I see. So a kiss equals a compliment, then?” Now it’s your turn to nod. “Uh-huh. And Sam?” You husk, trailing your hand up Sam’s chest to fist in the front of his shirt.

“Y-yeah?”

“I wanna compliment you all night.”

—

Tag list: @startterfly

[uncouth-the-fifth]

AHHH MORE PYTHIA CONTENT i’m gonna (s)cream

😏

after i finished writing this part i wanted to roll sam up and wring him out like a wet rag

[supurrb]

the worms have made it

[clovermarigold]

Daggers & Daffodils Chap. 28

To those who are reading this on wattpad and AO3. I highly suggest checking out https://www.tumblr.com/blog/clovermarigold Which is where I post my works on Tumblr. I have extra content for my other series and may decide to do the same for this one if it garners enough interest. It is also much easier to send out announcements there, so you'll be more likely to know when new chapters will be released, what delays there are, as well as participate in polls that directly affect the plot. As a bonus, I am currently taking requests, so if you have questions about the fic, maybe want some head cannons of our favorite berserker drop on by!

think i might have outdone myself with the fluff in this one. also, BACK TO REGULAR LENGTH CHAPTERS

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

You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, eyes fliting from the number of dragon hunters guarding the edges of the ship to your friends on the deck bellow you. It was clear they had tried and failed to escape. What made the situation worse was the fact that Heather seemed to be the one to foil the plan. Beating Astrid in a one on one. Something Tuff would not be letting her live down, despite being unarmed while Heather had her axe.

The whole situation felt wrong, being betrayed by such a close friend. You couldn't help but feel a bit petty. She had been so mad at you for 'not being honest' about your relationship with Dagur, and now here she was. Aiding him in his deranged mania, capturing and selling dragons, all the while preaching about being a happy family together?

She was furious with you, and suddenly she was yours and Dagur's biggest supporter. It didn't feel right. But regardless of how it felt, what mattered now was getting of this ship. Heather had convinced Ryker to make them work on the ship, an uncomfortable feeling settling in your gut when Dagur kept you from inheriting the same punishment. The idea of special treatment felt wrong in of itself, and you would much prefer working if it meant you could see Silver Tongue. 

The ship was on lock down now. Sneaking out would be near impossible, and that wasn't even taking into account the berserker currently attached to your hip. Deranged as he may be, he was smart. He kept you on a shorter leash than you gave Scabbard on wash day. 

There was always some part of him resting on you, whether it be a hand loosely playing with your fingers, an arm casually draped over your shoulders, or you 'least favorite' his head latched onto your neck, his chin hooking over your shoulder to keep you in his arms in front of him. 

The two of you walked the ship, Dagur rambling about floral arrangements, invitations, and other wedding chores. It was clear that though security was tight, the guards were all tasked to individual prisoners, focusing on one rather than communicating with the others. In this case, dividing and conquering would be your best bet. Knowing your brother, he was no doubt formulating a plan to break you and the others free. But how long would that take?

"What do you think?" you were caught off guard by Dagur's question. Was he talking to you? Of course he was, but you weren't exactly listening, "I don't really care". Dagur's smile dropped, giving you a once over. He was thinking something, you were sure. But whatever it was, he made no comment, only pulling you in closer to his side as he sped up your pace, choosing to refocus his attention to patrolling. 

Well, that was the opposite of what you needed.... Wait. The opposite of what you needed! It would only be a matter of time until Hiccup came back with his plan of action, whatever that was, so why not make things easier for him.

"I'm sorry" he paused your pace to shoot you a shocked look, "I just... Don't feel comfortable with all these people possibly eaves dropping".

He switched to a more concerned tone, "It's only temporary, you won't have to worry about them for long" the crazed look paired with the ominous warning left you on edge. Biting the inside of your cheek you pushed down any mixed feeling you had and decided to commit to your half-baked plan.

"Personally, I would pref-" he cuts himself off when you wrap yourself around his arm. "I don't like Dragon Hunters" you state bluntly.  His opposite hand moved to rest on yours, currently wrapped around him, "We can go back to the room".

"No!" you paused, recollecting yourself, "No. I don't want to go back in that room again... I need fresh air". You shoot a glare at a hunter you catch staring. Dagur notices too, grip tightening ever so slightly.

You don't catch what it is, but Dagur must have done something, because in a matter of seconds, the hunters on the back half of the ship excuse themselves. Mission complete, with the back half completely unarmed the ships integrity would be compromised. All that was left was to keep it that way. 

A deep breath sounded from the man beside you. You knew him well enough to tell he was in thought. About what, you had no idea. But considering it was Dagur, that was probably for the best. 

You pause, thinking of what to say, "Is she happy with you?" was all you could come up with. And it was an important question in your mind. Heather had been very clear in her conflicted feelings about staying with the group. For her to do THIS was completely out of character for her, but at the very least you could get a gage of why. 

"Of course," the way he jerked his head sharply showed genuine confusion to the thought it would be anyway else. 

"I just... want to know that she's ok" not entirely untrue. You wanted her to be as well as she possibly could. So, strangling her unconscious would feel more rewarding. You mentally chastised yourself for thinking something so cruel about a friend. Then again, was she even still your friend after this. 

"Y/N", it wasn't anything new, but it always felt a bit wrong when he called you by your name. He only ever did it when he was trying to point out 'flaws' in your beliefs. Even when he said it to tease you, he did it in a way that felt like a nick name or a term of endearment. You don't like how much he's been saying it. Every time he says it the pit in your stomach feels a bit larger.

"I promise you; I will never do anything to hurt our family" it was said seriously. Something that felt foreign and uncomfortable on Dagur. Not even threatening, just a solemn oath. Granted you saw the irony in the promise, with him actively trying to kill your brother. But you suppose that was just because in Dagur's logic Hiccup wasn't a part of your 'real' family. 

It didn't excuse anything, but at least you were learning a bit more of how his insane and unruly logic worked. The fact that you were likely the one to know it best concerned you to no end. 

Not knowing how to add to the conversation and emotional bombshell that just happened, you contented yourself to tightening your grip around Dagur's arm, slightly leaning your head in as well. 

To your surprise, Dagur didn't take this as a sign or excuse to tease, make a move, or even comment on anything. Instead, he stayed silent, quietly watching the horizon. Though you did feel his thumb ever so slowly beginning to move up and down on your wrist.

It was... peaceful. Actually, now that you think about it, this might be the most calm and gentle moment you've had in months. Sun shining a warm blanket on your skin, mist cooling you in waves, and the faint sound of Dagur's heartbeat mixing with the ocean.

It made your mind wander. Back to when you were kids playing on the cliffs. Chasing each other because one of you wouldn't stop cheating. Getting tired and sleeping under trees instead of going back to the village because your parents would make you go home. Simpler times.

You didn't notice when Dagur's head had moved to rest on yours. But it didn't bother you as much as it should. Just an extra pressure, but not an uncomfortable one. Like a blanket, just heavy enough to make you feel extra safe. 

For a moment you wished time would stop. That you could stay in this moment, free from any expectation or plague of reality the world would throw at you. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, and you would be pulled from your peace in a cruel and painful way.

A howl sounded from underneath the ship. And not just any howl, you knew that sound, "Silver tongue!". Dagur was quick to try and grip your arm, unfortunately for him you were just quick enough to slip past him and run towards the hull.

"You have no idea who you're messing with!" the sound of Astrid yelling from her cell only made your blood pressure spike ten times over as you nearly leapt down the stairs. The scene of horror you were met with was more than enough to shatter any moment you thought you were having. Silver Tongue strapped down in a cell struggling harshly against three hunters as they roughly pulled the arrows from his wing and left him. 

You moved to rush them when a sharp pain emitted from your scalp. "And where do you think you're going" Ryker, "I thought you two were keeping an eye on this one". 

"A mistake on my brother's part" the sharp sting dissipated as you were traded into the much softer hands of Heather. "His wounds will get infected if you don't let me treat him" you pulled against Heathers grip to no avail. Looking back, you were met with Heathers dethatched gaze, though you could sense a faint guilt behind her steely exterior. 

"That's the buyers problem. I won't go wasting any supplies on faulty merchandise. Sides" he leaned closer to the cage, causing silver tongue to let out a low growl. "His hides already damaged beyond worth. Suppose his skeleton would make a good center piece".

"I'll kill you" Your thrashing was enough to break out from one of Heathers hands. And had you not been so quickly traded into Dagur's you may have been able to get a good swing in on the bastard, "Heh. Put her in the brig. Before I throw her in a cell". Threats aside didn't stop you from putting up a fight as you were dragged away back into that Odin forsaken room again. 

---------------------------------

"I think that little brat's growing on me" Ryker joked.

"Ryker! Rykeeee" a frown spread across Dagur's face as he felt a twitch in his eye. Oh, so he was going to call his wife a brat after insulting his sister, and him. Well, that wasn't going to happen. Damn the plan, Dagur would rip out Rykers spine for the whole fleet to see if it meant putting him in his place. 

A glare from Heather pulled him from his murderous thoughts. 'Fine. You luck out today', it was a good thing Heather was there. With the exception of you no one else could, or even really knew how to ground him. Ryker would get to live for today, but that wouldn't stop him from making... alteration to the plan, specifically ones regarding what he would do to him once everything came into focus.

 "Little side note" his smile dropped, "If you ever disrespect my wife again or so much as touch her, I won't hesitate to wear your ribcage as my battle armor". The ship went quiet as the two stood still, neither moving so much as a hair.  

For a moment, Heathers fingers brushed over her axe, waiting for a fight to break out. "Hmph, keep her out of my hair" Ryker turned with a huff.

"What hair" Dagur mumbled like a child, only for a smack to hit him upside the head. "Ow, what was that for" Dagur turned towards his sister.

"For almost screwing everything up. I want to beat Ryker too, but we can't do that until we get to Vigo" Dagur rolled his eyes. "I don't see why you're so obsessed with meeting Vigo, the guys not even that interesting. You don't have a crush, or something do you? Because he is way older than you and as your brother I absolutely forbi-" Heather shoved a hand over his mouth before he started yelling.

"No, you idiot. We need Vigo so we can get access to the Dragon hunter monopoly, then when the time is right. WE take over" a sinister look took over Dagur. "Oh, I knew you were a genius, mom would be so proud". Heather bit back an insult and hit him on the back, "Go check on Y/N. I don't doubt she's losing it"

"I don't understand why she's so upset over that overgrown lizard" Heather turned sharply to her brother, "You wouldn't get it!".

"Alright alright, touchy subject" he backed away slowly.

Stopping outside the door he could hear you pacing, gods he hated it when you were worked up like this. Don't get him wrong, it was adorable, and hot. But only when it was, he was the one to work you up. Not Ryker.

knocking lightly, your pacing stopped. "My love" he opened the door carefully, stepping in. "I know you're upset so I thought we coul-" A fist collided square with his nose sending him stumbling back.

 ---------------------------------

You were angry. No, that would be an understatement, you were livid. So naturally the first thing you would do upon having anyone dare to enter your space would be to knock them as hard as you could in the nose. Your dad always said you had a nasty right hook.

It didn't surprise you when it was Dagur, honestly, who else was it supposed to be. That didn't cause you to feel any twisted form of guilt like it usually would. No, if anything you wanted to do it again.

"Wow!" Dagur said shocked clutching his nose, which was now bleeding, "If you don't give me my dragon I swear I'll rip you're damn head off!".

Dagur nodded still clutching his nose with wide eyes, "ok ok.... You're very pretty right now, can I kiss you?". You raised your hand to hit him again, though this time he was prepared, swift to dodge, "Ok I get it. I'll get the overgrown lizard some medicine or something".

"I mean it, Dagur. Real medical attention" he put his hands up assuring you repeatedly. 

"Have you been working you because I think I can smell colors" taking a deep breath you have him a once over. Damn it, did you give this man a concussion?

"Sit on the bed" obediently, without so much a word of argument, Dagur listened. Lifting his chin up you checked his eyes, making him track your finger. ok, visual awareness seems fine. You snaped in his right ear, "Ow, what was that for?".

"Good, you can hear fine. You're being dramatic, you're fine". You moved away from him. How had things been so fast to go to hell. One moment you were having the most relaxing rest of your life. The next you were angrier than you had ever been in your life.

"You know, you're getting a lot better at this" you turned to the idiot in question, "Hitting you?".

"No, acting like... you" you raised a brow. "Actually, expressing yourself. A month ago, you wouldn't even yell at me beyond 'you're delusional, I'm never gonna marry you, Dagur', " he said in a terrible mock imitation of your voice, "Now, you're actually dealing with the real problem".

"The real problem? My problem is that you can't help but ruin my life!" you scream. "THERE! Right there! You're actually learning to speak your mind. Not the rehearsed argument you tell yourself to sleep at night, your actual thoughts" he laughed.

"You're insane" you groan in irritation and half disgust, "Ok. bit of a step backwards but some of that is you".

"Can you shut up" Dagur, to your relief, did stop talking.

Gods, even when he's not talking it's like you can hear voices in your head yelling at you. Wait.... no. Those aren't in your head. "Dragon riders!". Hiccup!

"Stay down here" Dagur shot up, slamming the door behind him, the sound of a lock sliding into place confirming your suspicions. 

You hadn't been successful in managing to make his plan easier, so you would have to hope his plan would work. A scratching at the door grabbed your attention, followed by a small spark of fire through the crack underneath, "Scabbard! Good girl".

She let out a pleased chirp at your praise. "Ok, pleeeeease find a way to understand me and slide the lock open" silence. "I will give you all the fish if you unlock this door", nothing. "I will give you all of Silver Tongue's fish if you open this door" the metal bar rang as it hit the floor.

"You little con artist" Scabbard shot up off the ground, purring as she nuzzled herself in a vise grip around your neck. "I know, I know, no more privacy when I get home huh".

Sneaking upwards you were relieved to see the hunters were preoccupied with Hiccup and Snotlout in the air, allowing you to get into the hull where your friends were already making their escape.

Granted they were still dealing with the few dragon hunters downstairs with you. You trusted them to be able to handle them, your priority was Silver Tongue. Quickly, you slid past and ran to his cell, cutting the ropes as fast as you could. It wasn't clear if the hunters had done it, or if it had been Silver Tongue while trying to free himself, but he was covered in small cuts and scratches, bruising covering underneath his second left wing. 

"It's ok, were going to get you home, and clean you up" he let out a low pathetic growl and huff, he was exhausted, sorry Scabbard but you weren't getting any of his fish.

"Y/N!" Astrid called. "I'm coming. Come on buddy, you got this". Carefully, he pushed off the ground, launching up through the open hatch in the ship Storm fly had blasted open. 

Dagur was right, you had gotten better expressing your anger. And with Thor as your witness Ryker was going to learn just how much anger you had.

---------------------------------

thank you for reading!!! A longer chapter to make up for the wait. Thank you to everyone who has been commenting, I read every single one.

ps. no proofread on this one so sorry for spelling and grammar errors

Taglist

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@demogorgon-master1

@mj-jabami

@alicee-carter

@amearla

@milenaester14

[not-sure-what-im-feeling]

Do you grow any flowers

Have you ever made a flower crown

Favorite and least favorite flower just tell me more abt flowers pls(?)

My family and I tend to (try to) grow lilies of all sorts, lupin, heather, poppies, and an array of wildflowers.

I have made flower crowns before, using two different techniques that I would be happy to share if you wanted. I've made a few daisy crowns but I've made more of dandelions (because we have more of them here!)

Favourite flower is either hyacinths or narcissus, and I don't have a least favourite! I love all flowers, really, even weeds like dandelions.

Additional flower things (because you have given me a space to talk about them so I will):

Daisies are an invasive species where I live!

I really like the wild rose, Alberta's provincial flower

Roses mean very different things in floriography depending on colour. For example, a red rose means romantic love, but a yellow rose means friendship.

My two favourite flowers have meanings in floriography based on my favourite Greek myths. Can you tell why they're my favourites?

To add to the last point, hyacinths are from the myth of Hyacinthus and Apollo, and narcissus (common name: daffodil) are from the myth of Narcissus! Btw Narcissus deserved better and fuck Aphrodite for that one thing in particular

Fun fact: the hyacinth that we know today was likely not the flower that Hyacinthus turned into in the actual myth. I don't know how it's described in common interpretations, but it isn't really the flower we know now.

Canada's 150th anniversary was also celebrated with a white tulip with red accents called a "maple leaf tulip"

To thank Canada for sheltering their princess in World War 2, the Dutch royal family sent Canada 100,000 tulips in 1945. That's a lot of fucking tulips.

The tulip mania! That was a thing that happened and something that I would totally write a (maybe video) essay on! It really started in 1634, and ended in 1637. Tulips became extremely desirable and thus expensive, causing what was effectively mass hysteria over them.

[nbythegreat]

The beggining of the Jegulus fic I'm writing

It's very royal to characters' canon personalities so everybody is a dick. Except Peter he's my babygirl.

December 1978, Yule Break

"I’m in need of a house elf," Tom Riddle's voice reverberated through the room, each word edged with a rasp that seemed to worsen by the day. They were gathered in Lestrange Castle, and Lucius Malfoy  still simmered with resentment over it. Generational French wealth, it seemed, held a certain superiority over British riches.

Nearest to Riddle sat his most trusted Death Eaters: Corvus Lestrange, Abraxas Malfoy, Floella Mulciber, Dorothy Nott, Jean Rosier, Edith Avery, and Wilkes. The Wilkes family didn’t bother with individual names for their children—viewing themselves as a spiritual unit, bound by something deeper than mere titles.

Then came the heirs: Rabastan Lestrange, a fair looking guy with dilated pupils, the cause of which remained uncertain—whether due to his addiction to dark potions or his underlying mania. On one side was his wife, Bellatrix née Black, and on the other, his brother, Rodolphus. Bellatrix, a small woman with a wild mane of curls, sat transfixed on Riddle, her gaze feverish, obsessively following Tom’s every movement. It was like the infatuation of a schoolgirl for her teacher, only magnified a thousandfold. Her magic was volatile, crackling and surging unpredictably, reminding her raw, untamed power to everyone.

Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, wore a bright smile. It was his wedding day—he was about to marry Narcissa Black, Bellatrix’s sister, and the event was to be held just before Yule. Nearby stood Bruce Mulciber, his face twisted in a cruel smirk, the kind that even among Death Eaters made others avoid his gaze. 

Anastasia Nott and her husband Xavier were sitting  alongside Evan Rosier, whose stone-cold expression and piercing, icy-blue eyes could send shivers down anyone’s spine—if he weren’t so strikingly beautiful. Rumor had it that he carried veela blood in his veins, which would make him even more dangerous. Next to him sat Edmund Avery, nervously gnawing at his lip and Wilkes, an exact copy of their parent. They were a metamorphmagus, their whole family were and nobody knew what they truly looked like.

Regulus Black sat behind them, positioned between Sapphire Snyde and Severus Snape. Severus held his head high, his posture radiating confidence, as if to mask whatever vulnerabilities lurked beneath.  

“I’d be honored,” Regulus said, his voice tinged with excitement despite his effort to conceal it. Bellatrix flashed him a knowing smile. Everyone around them was concealed by powerful charms, only recognizable if the Dark Lord permitted it. Yet, Regulus could still pick out Bellatrix, Severus, Evan, Lucius, Wilkes, and a few more recent graduates Regulus managed to recruit last year. He was the youngest among them, but even if he wasn’t fully aware of it, both Lucius and Bellatrix were protecting him. His way with words directly coming from his passion towards the cause, the ease with which he could charm those around him and  meant he didn’t need to risk his life in battle.

Tom’s eyes flicked from Bellatrix to Regulus, then he gave a curt nod.  “Friday, ten in the morning,” he said. Regulus’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.  

Tom strode over to Lucius, gripping his shoulder with unnecessary force. “Congratulations on the wedding,” he said.

The Winter Solstice held great significance in the wizarding world. For most, it had been a celebration of the sun’s return for over a thousand years. But for wizards, it also marked a time of resurrection. Spirits who chose to remain as ghosts returned during Yule, and the barrier between life and death grew thinner. It was a time to honor both life and death. 

Narcissa and Lucius’s wedding was nothing short of extraordinary. Narcissa wore flowing white robes adorned with moonflowers and delicate lace, while Lucius’s attire mirrored hers, though he had daffodils woven into his hair instead. Felix Rosier, Narcissa’s young cousin, was the flower boy, gleefully skipping around with a basket in hand.

Regulus sat with Evan and Severus, observing the ceremony. Pandora Lovegood, Evan’s twin sister, trailed after Felix with a soft smile. The Lovegoods were an American family, and their blood purity was somewhat of a mystery, as Americans didn’t keep strict records. However, the Lovegoods were known seers, and like all seer families, their lineage followed a matriarchal line. When Jean Rosier and Flora Lovegood had their twins, they gave their surnames to their respective heirs.

Xenophilius Malfoy sat at the family table, looking both bored and slightly terrified of Bellatrix. After a moment, he stood up and sauntered over to Regulus.

“Siri would absolutely hate this,” he said, dropping down beside Evan and throwing an arm casually around his shoulders. “Disowned life seems... appealing.”

Regulus clenched his jaw. “If you say one more word, I’ll disown you from life,” he shot back, his voice tight with irritation.

Xenophilius raised his hands, fingers wiggling as he mockingly booed. “You wouldn’t even kill an ant.”

[rabbitcruiser]

National Plant a Flower Day

Few things on the planet are more beautiful or fascinating than  flowers – and with over 400,000 flowering plant species in the world,  there’s definitely something out there for everyone!

From the simple daisy to the elegant rose, from the colorful  wildflowers dotting hillsides to the elaborate and vibrant blooms of  southeastern Asia, flowers have more than deserved their own day of  celebration for their contributions to nature, culture, and life.

History of National Plant a Flower Day

Flowers have been around for at least 150 million years, with new and  captivating species springing up all over the place during that time.  And they have long been a staple in various cultures all around the  world, serving numerous purposes over the millennia including decorative  and medicinal ones.

As early as 2,500 BC, the Ancient Egyptians were using flowers to  adorn tables and great halls, as well as show respect to both the living  and the dead, with the remains of many kinds of flowers uncovered in  the tombs of pharaohs, high priests and other wealthy citizens. Later,  both the Ancient Greeks and Romans continued to use flowers for these  same purposes and also began to use some of them as herbs. This  tradition continues today through herbal teas, medicines and spices.

Throughout history, flowers have carried different symbolic meanings,  including in various religions and mythologies. In Hinduism, the  world’s oldest religion, the lotus flower is considered an important  spiritual symbol, while roses have long been seen as a display of love  and affection and poppies are used to commemorate soldiers who have died  in war.

Flowers have also been an integral part of our traditions and  rituals. Could you imagine a wedding reception without the bouquet toss  or a Christmas without poinsettias? And what would poets and painters do  without the flowers that have inspired them to create countless works  of art such as Van Gogh’s sunflowers, Monet’s water lilies or Blake’s  ‘Auguries of Innocence’?

These blossoming plants even have influence over the economy. In 17th  century Holland during a period known as ‘tulip mania’, tulips were  considered to be so valuable that they were worth more than gold and a  mere ten bulbs could be used to purchase a whole house! And to this day  the world’s most expensive spice is saffron, which is made using dried  crocuses.

Perhaps most valuable of all, however, is the role that flowers play  in the natural world. With their bright colors and enchanting scents,  they not only brighten up the world around us but also attract and  sustain pollinators such as bees, butterflies and birds, enticing them  with sweet nectar and having their precious pollen distributed in  return. And once they’ve reproduced, flowers bear sweet fruit that  animals and humans alike can enjoy.

Flowers play a crucial role in sustaining ecosystems, producing food  and enriching human life and culture. By celebrating National Plant a  Flower Day you’ll be helping these bountiful blossoms to flourish.

Tops tips for planting flowers

When it comes to planting flowers, you’ll need to do your research as  each species will have its own needs and preferences. Check out when  and where it’s best to plant your flowers, the kind of soil they like  and how often they’ll need watering. And once they’ve blossomed it will  be important to tend to them, removing dead flowers and keeping them  pruned.

Generally speaking, flowering plants like nutritious soil with good  drainage, but wildflowers, for example, flourish best in poor quality  earth. Some seeds and bulbs will need to be kept in a cool and dark  place after planting to simulate winter, which encourages flowering  further down the line. Another top tip is to tuck your plants in with a  good layer of mulch, as shredded bark will hold onto moisture and save  you some watering trips!

If you’re a first-time gardener, then flowers such as geraniums,  sunflowers, daffodils and lavender are popular choices for beginners.  It’s always worth looking for perennials as these types of flower will  last for at least two years. And even if you don’t have a garden, you  can still buy some plant pots for indoors.

How to celebrate National Plant a Flower Day

The best way to celebrate National Plant a Flower Day is to plant a  flower, or perhaps even many flowers! Depending on where you’re located  in the world and the kind of flowers you’ve chosen, March may or may not  be the best time to be planting, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get a  flowerpot and do it at home, or simply enjoy the blooms of previous  labor!

If it’s the right time and conditions for planting, set a little bit  of time aside on this day to sow some seeds or plant some bulbs in your  yard or garden. You could even team up with your neighbors and start a  community planting project such as a wildflower meadow, adding a splash  of color to places that everyone in the area can enjoy.

If you have kids, this could also serve as the perfect time to take  them outside and explain a bit about how nature works its magic, what  helps plants grow, why we need them and what we can do to help protect  our planet’s biodiversity. Instilling a sense of wonder for the world in  your children will help them appreciate the planet and make them more  aware of their surroundings – plus, what could be more fun than spending  a sunny day outside with your favorite little people and planting  lupins, poppies or fuchsias?

Even if you’re unable to plant a flower, there are still plenty of  ways you can celebrate the day. Head over to your local garden center or  a nearby florist to pick up some flowers that have already been grown  for you! They may well have special offers on to mark the occasion so be  sure to check those out as well.

Take a trip to a public garden and go for a stroll among the flower  beds – they’ll likely have a whole range of plants on display, including  those that don’t usually flourish in your country’s climate. Deliver a  beautiful bouquet to a loved one or try your hand at some flower  arranging – there are plenty of YouTube channels and flower arranging  courses available to help get you started!

And even if your part of the world is cold and dreary this time of  year, you can still enjoy a day of learning about nature and all it has  to offer humankind. Like flowers themselves, National Plant a Flower Day  was meant to be enjoyed.

Source

[hopcrow]

i really shouldnt financially but im considering spending part of my first couple paychecks on a tattoo ive wanted forever (daffodils, sort of art nouveau style- i have an artist in mind)

my bipolar depression hit at puberty which unfortunately for me was age 7-8, so i straight up dont remember ever feeling happiness until i got medicated at 16 or 17

the first time realized i was happy was springtime and i was looking at the first daffodil of the year. i experienced the feeling “wanting to live” and was like HOLY SHIT WHAT IS THIS. i called my therapist and asked if i was experiencing mania and she was like “no, that sounds like regular human happiness haha”

i still feel like that whenever i see a daffodil. and it feels appropriate to get it in spring

[gushingabtlove]

when ur bfs are all a little funny silly brain <33

this goes out to not even half of my fruity little oc boyfriends who i love very very much <33

lava lamp (+ briar), boombox, kaleidoscope, bathbomb, glowbi, jellyfish, daddy long legs, custard, retrogade, loomy, jewelry box, cream pie, butterbread, sparkler, nightlight, honeycake, campfire, gummyworm, discoball, paintbrush, 8-ball, firefly, artboard, slushie, beanbag, paintball, shutters, fortune teller, landmine, jewelmine, bombasm, magic marker, glitter pen, matchbox, funnyface, shadow mask, bubblecup, domino, axeman, jester, reverse, goggles, clock-out, tapestry, king, streets, crutches, discotheque, vhs, vm, quip, camera man, statiklis, hotline, cutcord, wiresaw, powerline, record, fillter, sey, logbook, researcher, delivery, mandyl, casting, orbee, milkyway, valan, herring, styxo, ruler, error, buttons, cryogen, daydream, ikbo, marbles, ozzy, zz, dollie, claw machine, carnival, sewing needle, gameboy, bendy, bowtie, starfish, firecracker, cotton candy, birthday, cupcake, portrait, fair, cakewalk, balloon, ocean eyes, goldie, smiles, post-it, blondie, wannabe, hushpuppy, pseudonym, drearie, softie, lockbox, memory, eternity, zenith, vigor, spider eyes, monday, tsunami, ragdoll, mixtape, dj, erase, zipper, newsie, cigar, knots, signal, analog, iq, broker, album, techy, radar, algorithm, candlestick, milkshake, raspberry sorbet, strawberry lemonade, honeycomb, whipped cream, bon-bon, cocoa, grape soda, fizz, cornbread, fruit punch, poprocks, pb&j, blackberry pie, popsicle, icing, gingerbread, peach crumble, teacake, sprinkles, cheesecake, peanut butter, rollcake, sugar cookie, toffee pudding, dropper, slim-jim, parka, nasty, paparazzi, oxy, dickie, party, seldom, noddles, needles, vodka, molly rose, infrared, coke, injection, re-al, pill, addict, mr. prescription, rubs, bandages, naughty, birthday candle, flamethrower, wind chimes, streamers, delicacy, quake, licorice, peach blush, frostbite, hyperthermia, sandglass, snakebite, bambi, vignette, waffle iron, somnophobia, viperpop, lightbulb, wallflower, ariel, cyanide, ghastor, peril, mirror shard, angelita, the doctor, lazuli, siderite, plasma, amnesia, pepper steak, anndy, neo, cat eye, apology, gumdrop, inkwell, think 101, aim, look at the stars.crp, twisted.exe, hedonism, lotus, phantasm, legacy, shivering, vil.exg, alzen, rose, bowie, mars, june, elzen, january, july, cake, lumi, neptune, alix, pyro, distortion, death, ecstasy, equity, wisp, determination, alastor, nate, zest, vinn, valarian, xest, vesper, marcy, k2, anonymous, anxiety, norman, adel, anna, xexter, oz, amon, azrael, brandon, cordon, chaim, camron, river, zap, sick, unknown, pumpkin head, ethan, damien, unstable, glitch, seren, kayan, core, spice, lisp, wisp, marsh, liam, logan, daniel, rylo, karl, cinder, kindle, break, saturn, gem, lonnie, eleven, thirteen, nine, twelve, vason, aster, toxicity, darling, pyromania, cross, infatuation, dis, angel, cobi, alice, bonnibel, ray, conifer, phantom, rot, teeth, cheezit, casino, twist, mania, bruxism, yohan, lucifer, chimes, morphine, foxglove, slumber, fear, pallid, gossamer, kenny, pepper, sour, sweet, quincey, jack (+jackl), phoenix, swiss, borealis, bicchiere, juno, pond, opium, eve, esque, petrichor, elysian, sheep, saeran, blue, thirtyfour, sea, gorge, corette, popgoes, nabu, penumbra, daffodil, remedy, silkra, polaris, nabbi, stitches, patchwork, sunkiss, spindle, uri, bride, evangelion, corpse, petunia, swan, melatonin, chorus, tempest, gold, heartwood, wyx, wik, chavell, hern, zin, sonna, esconder, oakley, jonquil, jules, kaz, valentine, savel, alifer, hexikiah, flair, orion, roman, aurelius, lio, supernova, hyperburst, xale, reino, karami, amaiera, vinnie, sylvester, ghost, amoxie, thyme, khai, leno, tyrian, amaranth, wish, valley, jockoline, knife, cubbie, keys, patchwork, clay, fran, ricky, starburst, matrix, richie, koen, fantasia, treasure, saint, rem, sunflower, law, dice, spade, brione, klahoma, klub, juxapose, shark, coast, pearl, fable, canopy, queen, fae, xyin, anomaly, december, november, t, haunterly, kiss, sixteen, five, veil, pom pom, laine, winlei, estan, raby, sachele, cj, null, ziggy, lanton, sannette

passion, masky, rosibene, nonsense, decay, salem, lockie, sugar, limin, spitts, everett, soda, fitz, bō, daughtry, hao, kastlane, afternoon, lucas, louise, mimmy, yusef, equinox, anthemion, três, viridian, celadon, faigan, radio, syrup, rise, elowen, veraine, axe, creep, vanity, yellow, boston, kain, riles, quick, hydraon, nessie, mousse, ecto, beastly, worship, cannibalism, stalking, abandon, ketamine, pretender, hypocrisy, quixotic, opulence, opportunity, sensuality, sobriety, rage, apocalypse, negligence, irrationality, cube

[properties009]

Embrace the Elegance of Tulip Monsella: A Garden Gem

Tulips are cherished for their classic beauty and simplicity, captivating garden enthusiasts and floral designers alike. Among the many varieties, Tulip Monsella shines with its refined elegance and distinctive allure. This blog delves into what makes Tulip Monsella unique, its historical significance, growing tips, and its place in modern garden designs.

Discovering Tulip Monsella

Elegant Appeal: Tulip Monsella is renowned for its sophisticated and graceful appearance, setting it apart from other tulip varieties.

Special Traits: Its unique characteristics make Tulip Monsella a standout choice for both gardens and floral arrangements.

Historical Insights

Origins: Tulips trace their origins to Central Asia and made their way to Europe in the 16th century.

Tulip Mania: In the 17th century, the Netherlands experienced Tulip Mania, where rare tulip bulbs commanded impressive prices, highlighting their cultural significance.

Tulip Monsella’s Role: Although not as historically celebrated as some other varieties, Tulip Monsella reflects the ongoing evolution and fascination with tulips.

Features of Tulip Monsella

Color Range: Tulip Monsella is admired for its soft pink and peach hues, adding a touch of elegance and charm.

Petal Design: The tulip boasts a classic cup shape with smooth, rounded petals, contributing to its refined appearance.

Size: Positioned as a mid-sized tulip, it is adaptable to various garden settings and designs.

Growing Tulip Monsella

Best Time to Plant: Plant Tulip Monsella bulbs in the fall, between September and November, to ensure they establish roots before winter.

Soil Needs: Prefers well-drained soil with a slightly acidic to neutral pH. Improve drainage in heavy or clay soils by incorporating sand or organic matter.

Sunlight Requirements: Thrives in full sunlight, which helps to enhance its vibrant blooms.

Watering: Keep the soil moderately moist; avoid overwatering to prevent bulb rot.

Fertilization: Use a balanced, slow-release fertilizer during planting. Avoid excessive fertilization to prevent lush foliage that overshadows blooms.

Incorporating Tulip Monsella into Garden Designs

Spring Showcases: Ideal for creating early-season garden displays. Combine with daffodils or hyacinths for a colorful spring garden.

Container Gardens: Its elegant form makes it perfect for pots and window boxes, adding a touch of beauty to smaller spaces.

Floral Arrangements: Tulip Monsella's sophisticated look makes it a popular choice for cut flowers, adding a touch of grace to bouquets.

Overcoming Common Challenges

Pests and Diseases: Watch for issues such as aphids and tulip fire. Regular inspections and treatments with insecticidal soap or neem oil can help manage these problems.

Bulb Storage: If lifting bulbs after flowering, ensure they are thoroughly dried before storing them. Keep them in a cool, dry place until replanting in the fall.

Tulip Monsella in Contemporary Gardens

Exhibitions and Shows: Frequently featured in garden shows and floral exhibitions, Tulip Monsella showcases its unique qualities and enduring appeal.

Modern Design: Continues to be a favorite in contemporary floral arrangements, underscoring its timeless beauty and relevance.

Conclusion

Timeless Elegance: Tulip Monsella epitomizes the classic beauty of tulips with its unique and refined features.

Gardening Joy: Ideal for gardeners of all levels, Tulip Monsella adds a touch of sophistication and grace to any garden.

Enduring Beauty: Tulip Monsella stands as a testament to the timeless appeal of tulips, offering both visual delight and a gratifying gardening experience.

Adding Tulip Monsella to your garden allows you to enjoy a flower with a rich history and elegant beauty, enhancing your outdoor space with its classic charm.

[crimson-colored-memories]

the moon

date: 11/2023 I'm turning 18 in just about two months, time runs through my fingers faster than I can get a hold of it. time swiftly fades into memories beneath my feet, and when I look back, all there is to see are dark, void and empty thoughts, that lead to my throne made of scars and tears, which I kneel upon since I'm not worthy of it anymore. Time has passed, and I've changed, I cant mock life while it does its move anymore, I've got to sit quietly and avoid checkmate. Even though I have grown resilient, my mind feels like a sinking ship in the far, obscure waters overthinking has taken me to. My lungs slowly fill with the crystalline water I've been drowning in, as every single bit of my energy is drained by the unnecessary crying of my mind. I've been clean of self harm for seven months, and sober for a week, I'm slowly regaining the ability to feel the sun projecting itself onto my skin, the fine and soft dirt I walk on, the smell of daffodils, the chilly subtle breeze and the joyful chorus of birds greeting me with a new day. And even then, I feel so purposeless, I don't have anywhere to return once I leave this rehab facility other than my old life, tainted by the corrupting, crippling addiction I fell into. I never thought I would make it this far, never thought I would make it to my 18th birthday, I promised I would kill myself ever since I was 6; here I stand though, quiet and still, my future inches away from my face, challenging me to venture into the unknown. I'm weak, small, too feminine to be a man and too masculine to be a woman, needy for love and attention, wishing someone would hold me and tell me it'll be okay. Hoping to make it one more day without overdosing. Even if I wasn't gay or trans, even if I was strong and threatening, even if I was confident and fearless I'd still feel like I'm at a disadvantage against the world. I never prepared myself for being here, never thought of this outcome, never saw it coming or wished for it, but I've regained my life when I expected it the least. I owe it to myself. For every time I slowly slit my thighs, laughing and crying in extreme mania as I'd hear the rip of my skin. For every blunt and acid tab, for every pill and cigarette, for every shot and and drink. I owe this day to my mother, who I've made cry and sob uncontrollably every time I end up at the hospital unconscious because I had lost control of my life once more, I've made her break every time the police called her crushing the tiny bit of hope and innocence she saw in me. I let myself get lost in a downwards, tightening never ending downwards spiral of drugs, self harm, sex work, hookups, alcohol and mental illness. Lost in the middle of nowhere with no friends, tools, shelter or money. I ventured into the unknown thinking that I wouldn't make it back. But I did. the moon rose, enlightened the way out and gave me hope. Now I know I can go and explore the world empty handed and alone, I know the moon will rise and take me home when I get lost. I do not with to kneel upon the throne I build with self induced pain and suffering once more. I'm not coming back.

[daffodil-mania]

Study Date

High school!Sam Winchester x fem!reader. No smut, but there is a lot of making out. Mildly suggestive language.

Author’s notes: I’M BAAAAAACK! Sorry that this isn’t part 4 to The Itch, but up until very recently I’ve been stupid busy and incredibly stressed. Part 4 should be coming soon though! Thank you all for your patience <3

—

You glance anxiously at the clock on your bedside table, peering at its digital face as butterflies beat against your ribcage. Sam should be here any minute now. It’s freezing outside, and steady streams of cold air waft through the window you’ve opened for him. You feel like you can’t sit still, so you cross your room to the standing mirror that hangs from the back of your closed bedroom door. You turn this way and that in front of the mirror, inspecting your outfit with a keen, nervous eye. You’re still in what you wore to school; a form-fitting black sweater paired with a trusty pair of jeans. Upon closer inspection, you realize that the jeans do very little for your ass, so you decide to swap them for some more flattering pajama pants. There, you think, satisfied. Now you look cute, but not like you’re trying to look cute.

You turn away from the mirror and snatch your hairbrush from your desk and give your hair a few quick passes with it. You’ve just set the brush back when you hear a rustling noise. You snap to attention, and whip your head to look over at your window. Sure enough, the rustling continues, and with it comes the faint sound of grunting. You slowly move to the window, just in time for a hand to slap down on your sill. You jump as a second hand joins the first, and then a head, followed closely by the rest of Sam’s lanky body. You grin as he plops down as gracefully as he can into your room, batting away your gauzy curtains. You close the window quickly and with a shiver.

You feel a pair of hands grasp your waist and then slide along your front, and you’re pulled back into Sam’s toned chest. You wiggle yourself around so you can face him, and you’re greeted by the sight of Sam smiling dreamily down at you. Your stomach turns madly as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Hi,” he grins, and you grin right back. “Hi.”

You’ve barely gotten the word out when a chaste kiss is pressed against your lips, which is quickly followed by a series of more hungry, determined kisses. The cold air from outside still clings to Sam’s jacket, providing a nice bit of relief from the heat that surges through you. Sam pulls away, catching his breath, and you glance down to where your bodies are pressed together, arching a brow. “Is that a snake in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” You quip, looking back up at the brown-haired boy who towers above you. Sam rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the blush that spreads across his already flushed cheeks. “You know, I’m starting to think you only see me as a piece of meat,” he says dryly, pulling away from you so he can shed his jacket and shoes. You gasp dramatically, feigning shock, and place your hand over your chest, grasping at imaginary pearls. “What gave it away?” Sam chuckles, and plops down on your bed. “So, Mae West, do you want me to help you study for this test or not?” You pout, but dutifully trail over to the bed. “You’re no fun.” Sam grins at your mock disappointment, and gives you a swift peck on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it worth your while,” he promises, making you clench. Evil bastard.

You relent with a sigh, and open the top drawer of your bedside table, producing the flashcards you had prepared. You hand them to Sam before crossing over to your CD player, turning the volume up ever so slightly, just in case. Your parents love Sam, but they’re unaware of your late-night “study” visits, and you’d like to keep it that way. No need to tarnish their image of their perfect daughter and her respectful, gentlemanly boyfriend.

Sam clears his throat as you flop down on your bed, rolling over so that you can lay flat on your back. Sam opts to stay in an upright position while he quizzes you. “Ready?” You nod, mentally gearing up for the questions. You feel pretty confident about them already, having gone over them dozens of times since Mr. Warner announced the quiz last Friday, but you figure some extra prep can’t hurt. Besides, who could turn down some quality time with Sam and those puppy-dog eyes of his?

“First question: what is the difference between a prokaryotic and a eukaryotic cell?”

“A eukaryotic cell has a membrane bound nucleus; a prokaryotic cell does not.” Sam nods. “Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “Next question—”

“So, do I get my reward yet?” You cut in, rolling over onto your side, propping your head up with one of your hands. Sam rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “You know, patience is a virtue,” he teases. “Yeah, well, it’s a good thing I’m not Catholic,” you shoot back playfully.

Sam’s on you before you can blink, hands scrambling up your sides to tickle you. You squeal and try to writhe out of his grasp, but it’s too late. Sam’s wiry, but he knows how to use his lean frame to his advantage. You can squirm all you want, but he’s putting most of his body weight on your lower half, making escape damn near impossible. “I yield! I yield!” You manage to stammer out between giggles. “Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this that easily,” he smirks, keeping you pinned while he continues the assault on your ribs. “S-Sam, seriously! I’m gonna pee my pants!” He hesitates briefly, and you seize your moment. You buck your hips and push, catching Sam off guard. This knocks him off of you long enough for you to scramble up and off of the bed. You don’t get far, though, when one of his thick hands shoots out and grabs you, pulling you back down to the bed. You find yourself under him once more, but this time he merely hovers above you, caging you in with arms at either side of your head. He moves some of the hair out of your face and tucks it gently behind your ear. “You’re getting better at that,” he compliments with a smile, green eyes twinkling. “Thanks. I have a pretty good teacher,” you purr. Sam sucks in a breath as his face flushes scarlet. “What’s wrong, pretty boy? I didn’t fluster you, did I?”

Sam kisses you fiercely and with an animalistic groan. You return the kiss eagerly, pulling him down so his body is flush against yours. The kiss continues to get more and more heated, your tongues battling for dominance. After a few minutes of this you’re starting to lose your cool when Sam pulls off of you. You blink up at him, dazed and uncomprehending. “Wha-? Why did you—”

Sam smiles at you, syrupy sweet and endlessly patient. He leans down close, and your heart starts thumping so fast you’re worried it might explode. You feel Sam’s lips gently brush the shell of your ear. “Because,” he breathes, “we have to get back to studying.” And with that, Sam’s completely off of you, picking your flashcards up from where they had been strewn carelessly on the floor. You groan in frustration, sitting up as you adjust your clothes and try to recover your senses. Sam sits back down on your bed, and runs a hand through his brown locks before he speaks. “Next question; what is…”

—

Author’s notes: I hope y’all enjoyed this lil blurb! Happy New Year lovelies 🥳🎉

[uncouth-the-fifth]

and conversely, sam absolutely will absolutely not let pythia do those sorts of things with/to him; not because he doesn’t want to, but because if he experiences any sort of physical touch for more than 5 seconds he will explode <3

YES YES YES. i forget which chapter i mentioned it in, but i vaguely remember talking about how sam's relationship with her has ALWAYS been different from the way she treats Dean, and this captures exactly what i was trying to sayyyyy 😭😭 like he could just never bring himself to do brother and sister shit with her because he had a big ol' crush :') and I'm sure at the time 12 y/o Dean brushed it off as Sam being weird (so: Sam), but then Sam wouldn't want to innocently hold her hand or smth like that and Dean would do his squinty face. *Dean voice* the cooties excuse can only be used so many times, dude.

[wonderjourneys]

The Enchanting Beauty of the Flower Fields of the Netherlands

Introduction:

The Netherlands, often dubbed as the "Flower Capital of the World," is renowned for its stunning flower fields that paint the countryside with vibrant colors and delicate fragrances. Each spring, when the country emerges from the cold winter, millions of blooming flowers create a breathtaking spectacle that attracts visitors from across the globe. From the iconic tulips to a myriad of other blossoms, the flower fields of the Netherlands offer an enchanting experience for nature enthusiasts and admirers of natural beauty.

A Tapestry of Colors:

The flower fields of the Netherlands, primarily located in the province of South Holland and the famous Keukenhof Gardens, are a sight to behold. Countless hectares of land are transformed into a mesmerizing tapestry of colors, showcasing an impressive array of flowers. While tulips steal the show, one can also find daffodils, hyacinths, narcissus, and many other varieties adorning the landscape. The meticulous planning and cultivation techniques employed by Dutch horticulturists ensure that the fields burst with a vibrant palette that seems almost too picturesque to be real.

Keukenhof Gardens: The Jewel of the Flower Fields

Nestled in the heart of the Dutch flower-growing region, the Keukenhof Gardens is an absolute must-visit destination for flower enthusiasts. Spanning over 79 acres, the gardens are a testament to the country's passion for horticulture. Every year, the Keukenhof Gardens showcase over seven million flowers, including a staggering variety of tulips, creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Visitors can stroll through meticulously designed pathways, breathe in the fragrant air, and revel in the exquisite beauty surrounding them.

Cultural Heritage:

The flower fields of the Netherlands have deep-rooted cultural significance. The Dutch have cultivated flowers for centuries, with tulips playing a prominent role in their history. Tulip mania, a period during the Dutch Golden Age in the 17th century, saw the tulip bulb prices skyrocket, creating an economic bubble. While the bubble eventually burst, the Dutch love affair with tulips has remained steadfast. The flower fields pay homage to this cultural heritage, providing a glimpse into the country's rich past and ongoing love affair with flowers.

Tourism and Beyond:

The flower fields of the Netherlands are not only a treat for the eyes but also a significant economic driver for the country. The annual influx of tourists who come to witness the fields in full bloom boosts local businesses and supports the horticulture industry. Numerous flower-related events, such as flower parades and festivals, further contribute to the vibrant tourism industry of the region.

These #flowerfields of #holland #netherlands are near the fairytale village of #Giethoorn

#NetherlandsFlowerFields #FlowerCapital #BloomingSpectacle #TulipMania #KeukenhofGardens #NatureEnchantment #FloralParadise #CulturalHeritage #ColorfulTapestry #SustainableTourism #NaturalBeauty #SpringInNetherlands #HorticultureWonders #FlowerFieldEscapade #FlowerPower #BlossomBliss #FlowerFieldMagic #FieldsOfColor #FlowerFestival #FloralEcosystems #PreservingBeauty #travel #tourism #tourist #drone #dronevideo #dji #wanderlust #wonderjourneys #tulips #dutchtulips

Music :: Scott Buckley, Chasing Daylight

site :: scottbuckley.com.au

[mrdjhmcc]

Thoughts on first shoot.

I very quickly learned I have lost a lot of fitness in the past few years. I started with the hopscotch shots, very tiring, don't recommend.

The shoot itself went very well, and I was able to get a good shot for showing mania with the flash plus long exposure technique. All shots were captured at f/1.8, mostly with an 85m with the exception of the goalposts shot that was done with my 28mm lens.

The second shot was intended to be similar, with me "monkey barring" along the length of the crossbar of the goal. I could barely hold myself up, never mind anything more energetic. Turns out I'm 36 not 26, disappointing.

Still managed to get a decent shot, that probably works better as in the final 1 to 10 sequence, it sits between the shot above with lots of movement and another with very little movement.

The next shot was the slow climb out of depression and in the final sequence is before the above shots. Thankfully, this one went exactly to plan, although I will need to flip it horizontally in post.

I made many attempts to get a good shot for the initial image in the sequence, even trying other angles than side on. I wasn't happy with any of them, but I still want the daffodils, so will be reshooting. Attempts are shown in the contact sheets

[cherokeescribe]

Theia Mania

By Anna Huddle

Theia mania,

The divine madness of the gods.

Dionysus’s misery, red wine lips leaving bloodied stains.

Sycophantic glances I watch,

Treacherous feelings born anew.

The prophets forswear the ache of love

Divinity alike the devil, death’s dark call.

Daffodils,

Yellow bursts of light, my sweet sunrise in darkness.

Like the wind cutting across the blades of grass,

Your every smile slashes my soul.

My heart burns like the hearth to your every beck and call.

Drowning in your eyes like the stormed upon sea, sailors sirened upon your ways

The feeling of star-crossed yet starstruck.

O’ sweet misery of love, Aphrodite’s blessed curse,

The beautiful pain of loving another so deeply.

My darling Eros, your Psyche calls out,

Your name singes my tongue like a brand.

My Achilles, Patroclus perished at your side.

Your tears must be ichor, my skin burning at every brush under your eyes

As I vow to never let you hurt again,

For how could one ever hurt one so precious and pure?

Feelings buried six feet under arise from this madness,

This utter insanity that you cast my mind into.

Like the moon I shrink from the sun, your everloving glow

Fearing leaving my overcast night to enter into the unknown and

Undecided day, never knowing whether or not you feel the same way.

The sun.

Yes, that’s what you are,

The sun,

My sun,

My glorious light, triumphant over your perils with the night.

My beautiful sunshine in the springtime, shimmer of the summer’s haze,

And I am Icarus, forever cast down to the salted shores, fingers straining for your embrace.

For why? Why should I give you any of my heart when it is so seldom shared, what makes you deserve it?

How could I possibly know that my Orpheus won’t cast his eyes my way under doubt and desperation and despair?

Or shall I relent my secrets, waiting for lament?

An ode to my love, true and tender your words.

For it was your heart that beckoned me so,

Each gentle laugh drew me close. I bask in your glow, the feelings unknown,

My divine.

Theia mania, you are my divine madness.