#my gorgeous little dirt piles

[lostbizkits]

BEHOLD!!! my DDS OCs Clay (left) and Silt (right) they are always together no matter what !!! no matter the cycle or timeline :))

They are part of the maintenance crew of the embryon, specifically the plumbing aspect.

[aurorawritestoescape]

SURVEILLANCE

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (in established relationships with m!oc/not named)

Summary: Javier's been surveilling your boyfriend and has to listen to everything you two are saying. And doing. So one day he does something really unprofessional.

Tw: 🔞mdni smut voyeurism, m!masturbation, Javi is a little obsessed with you, dirty talk, lots of horny daydreaming, piv, threesome, dp, breeding kink, swearing, lmk if I missed something

Word count: 1,8k

A/n: gif by @azertyrobaz Thank you @milla-frenchy for helping me find the perfect gif and your undying support🫂😘

Javier is sitting at his desk in the office, fiddling with the headset cord and staring at the photo of you peeking out of a folder. He sees just the top of your head and your eyes. Your gorgeous eyes looking up and to the side at someone next to you. They’re full of love, affection and something animalistic, instinct induced. He wishes you were looking at him like that.

The DEA has been surveilling you for almost a month. Well not you but your dickhead of a boyfriend. He was one of Escobar’s people, just a middle man, but they believed that they could gather some useful information by closely monitoring him and his associates. The DEA began direct surveillance - tailing him and you, taking pictures and documenting everything. They also bugged your boyfriend’s place and could hear everything that was said and done there.

Usually surveillance was a tiring and boring process, like searching for a gold nugget in a huge pile of dirt. But not this time. Not with you involved.

When they began the operation Javier tried to stay impartial to you as well as everything and everyone connected to the target. For some fucking reason he couldn’t do that. When he heard your voice, the way you talked and carried yourself something woke up inside him. Something that was dormant and pushed out of his life, again and again. He heard your voice and remembered himself younger, longing to touch and be touched, yearning for connection, as well as passion and lust. His desires were satiated by meaningless hookups, fleeting affairs suffocated by the amount of stressful work. Javier liked it this way, as he didn’t see himself settling down for a quiet family life.

And then he heard your voice. Soft and quiet, yet powerful in its seductive beauty.

They all took shifts to listen in on your boyfriend and you every morning, day and night. Javier couldn’t miss anything as every minor detail could lead to a breakthrough. The first time you two had sex he had to listen.

To Javi’s surprise you loved talking during sex. The dirtiest phrases were flying into his ears and straight to his cock. “Si, papi! Like that, grab my tits. Oh yes, fuck me harder.” He had to adjust himself several times and couldn’t wait to leave work to visit one of his prostitutes.

The second time he realized where it was going by the kissing noises so he took off the headset and waited for you to finish. He felt dirty and creepy listening and getting turned on.

Instead he took more direct surveillance shifts following you two and that’s where another trap was waiting for him. On top of your filthy little mouth and banging body you turned out to be nice. Lovely even. You would help your elderly neighbours, look after your little sister whenever your parents asked and glow with genuine happiness playing with her in the park. He saw you talking to the other kids there, giving your warmth generously to them and his lips would involuntarily curl up in a smile. For a second or longer Javier imagined you pregnant with his child, carrying his love inside you. Your belly round under that summer dress, breasts spilling out of the neckline, ripe and ready to feed his child. He saw the moment he’d put his seed into you - your legs on his shoulders, him folding you in half by his weight, thrusting his cock deep and hard. He’d pump you full of his hot cum and leave his cock inside you for a night so it would stick. He’d have a family with you. He’d have you.

Javier wasn’t delusional, he knew you weren’t his. And you seemed to really love your boyfriend. Yet the son of a bitch surely didn’t deserve the way you looked at him.

When Javi was the one to tail you two he easily could spot the desire on your pretty face, your cheeks flushed, eyes blown out, chest heaving. You seemed insatiable, always hungry for a touch, a kiss. You’d hold your boyfriend’s hand walking down the street, rest your head on his shoulder standing in a queue, grind against his body dancing in a bar. You were gorgeous.

The nights out were the worst. You always wore a skimpy dress showing off your soft curves, or a pair of tight jeans hugging your butt perfectly. The way you danced drove Javier insane - your hips swaying with the beat, hands snaking up and down your body, touching yourself in all the places Javi wanted to kiss and lick you. He imagined being there with you, pressing his broad chest to your back, holding your waist close to him and kissing your neck, you two moving rhythmically with the music. He’d take your chin in his hand to make you look at him and kiss you, squeezing your breast and pushing his hard-on in between your asscheeks. He’d take you home and rip the clothes off you like a wolf impatient to devour a bunny. He’d suck, bite and then kiss better every inch of your sweaty body until you begged him to fuck you. He’d smirk and place his hands on your inner thighs pushing them open and lowering his face to your pussy, “Papi’ll make you come a few times first, how about that?”

Javi rubs his face as the slapping sounds in his ears get louder. He leans back in his chair and lifts the hips to ease the pressure on his aching cock. He already feels the dampness on his skin. He must have been leaking precum for some time now. You’ve been making out probably on your bed, your soft whimpers slowly hardening his cock. Javier drops his head back with a deep sigh and closes his eyes. You’re full on moaning in his headphones now and he adjusts them to hear you better. His mind tells him that he needs to stop, get out of here, have a smoke. But then the image of you appears behind his eyelids, so clear and vivid that his breathing hitches for a moment. His imagination feeds on the way you sing right into his ears and Javier sees you caged in by his own body, squirming and pleading, “Fuck me, Javi. Te necesito.”

The sounds you’re making being used by another man’s cock shoot straight to his member. He’s throbbing for you, he can already feel the pulsations against his skin.

Javier can’t take it anymore. The desire seems so powerful it burns like fire behind his eyelids. He opens his eyes and looks down at his huge bulge. His hand slides down to his crotch and he palms himself through the jeans.

“Your cock’s so big, papi! My little pussy can barely take it.”

Filthy girl! A moan escapes his lips joining the one you’re making in his headphones.

He quickly bites his lip to shut himself up. Fortunately everyone’s left for the day, but he’s still at work. Javier undoes the zipper and his cock springs out of its confines and bobs dripping on Javi’s shirt. He curses seeing a few wet spots staining the fabric. He hastily takes a hold of his weeping member keeping it head up and spreads the liquid left over the tip with his thumb.

“Rub my clit, papi, yes, like this, wanna come on your big dick,” you whine with need in your voice and Javier groans as another drop of precum beads and then slides down on his hand. His arousal mixes with anger. Why is it affecting him that much? He’s not a fucking teenager getting a boner every time he sees a pretty girl. Why did his dick take over his mind and senses? “Pendejo!” Javier lets go of his cock and gives it a slap on its side with an open palm. His stiff cock is swaying from side to side and Javi snarls watching it grow even bigger. The pain adds to the pleasure and the need becomes unbearable. He gives in.

Javier spits into his hand and starts off slow, jerking his length with short strokes feeling its hot soft skin under his calloused hand.

“Can I suck on your thumb, papi, while you’re fucking me? I miss your cock in my mouth.”

You cry out the fucker’s name after a hard thrust and then your sounds are muffled apparently by the finger in your mouth. First Javi drives away the thoughts of the other man. He shuts his eyes seeing you again in his mind but with his cock buried deep inside your glistening pussy, his balls hitting your ass as your breasts are bouncing after every slam of his hips. Javi’s mind is on fire and his hand starts moving faster. Up and down, up and down. He twists his wrist from time to time and he hears that you’re close too. He wants to jump into the abyss together with you, and listens carefully, concentrates on your breathing, trying not to miss that sweet sound, a tell of your climax hitting you. He’s heard it many times by now and imagined it even more, alone in his bed, in the shower, even with another woman. That sound pushes him over every time, makes his cock erupt on his hand or in another pussy. He's pumping his cock vigourously, roughly without pity. He hears the other man’s groans as the fucker must be close as well. At the back of his mind Javi registers how hot this forbidden threesome is. He can’t help but see the three of you in a bed together. Your body splayed over your boyfriend’s, front up and Javi’s between your gorgeous legs. Two cocks sliding into your little pussy at the same time making you whine and grip the sheets. He’d bend over to take your nipple into his mouth and after finding a steady rhythm, they’d fuck you together until you are spasming around the two cocks.

“Si, si, like that, papi,” you squeal and Javi feels his balls tighten. You make THAT sound and when you hold your breath he knows you’re coming, your muscles tight, eyes shut, hands gripping your knees to keep your legs open so he could see your pussy contracting around his cock, clit twitching, your juices soaking his dick. All he hears now is squelching noises of your pussy being stuffed full of another man’s cum and Javi snarls and comes hard, shooting his hot seed all over his jeans, hand and the cord. Globs of cum spill from his cock and slide down his length. He doesn’t care about the mess and milks it to the last drop. Javi’s panting hard, you two echoing him in the headphones. He lets go of his softening cock and stares at your folder on his desk. His mind is finally clear. He must have you.

—————

Pendejo-dumbass

Papi- daddy

Te necesito- I need you

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!💖

Tag list: @ghoulettesinspace @iamasaddie @starkovli @missannwinchester @lucyisdoingfine @marysucks-blog

[willsimpforanyone]

poly!solangelo x gn!reader smut

sure, i shall take the freedom and abuse it lmao enjoy

also will is southern because yes and y'all have a lovely grown-up house with a garden because this is fiction

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

Nico's hair was getting long.

It rested just above his shoulders, dark and shaggy and so delightful to run fingers through. I stared at him, head bent over some paperwork for his job. My fingers tapped the table, my head resting on one hand.

His t-shirt was loose and low-necked, exposing a plane of pale olive-toned chest, the faintest of bruises decorating his neck from a few days ago.

"Darlin', why are you eye-fuckin' our boyfriend?"

Both Nico and I jumped as Will wandered into the kitchen, bee-lining to the sink to wash the dirt from his hands. Nico flushed pink as he met my eyes.

I winked, and turned to my other boyfriend. "What? You jealous?"

Will laughed. "Honey, I know I look hot." He was right, his working-in-the-garden jeans slung low on his hips and he was wearing a t-shirt just a little small for him, showing a sliver of stomach at all times.

"I'm trying to be productive," Nico murmured, looking back down at his papers.

"We aren't distracting you, babe." I shrugged, slipping out of my seat and wrapping my arms around Will from behind. "Are we?"

Will shook his head, reaching for a towel and drying his hands. "We've never done anything wrong in our lives." He turned in my embrace, resting his arms on my shoulders. He was a little taller than me, so I had to tilt my head up a little to meet his eyes. "Hey there."

I grinned. "Hey. You do look hot."

He ducked his head down to touch his lips to my ear. "Wanna see how far we can go before Neeks breaks?"

"Oh, absolutely."

I slipped my hands under his shirt, feeling him shiver. In return, he cupped my cheeks in his hands and brought me in for a long, sweet kiss. I sighed in satisfaction, swiping my thumbs over the skin of his back.

Will pulled back, pressing kisses along my jawline. "So, what did Nico do to get you to look at him like that?"

Sighing wistfully, I glanced briefly over to the man at the table seemingly very focused on his work.

"His hair, it's so beautifully long," I murmured. "Would be so good to run my fingers through, maybe pull a little bit, we know he likes that."

Nico gave the smallest shift in his seat, but his eyes were staring at the papers. Will nipped at my pulse point and I gasped.

"And the t-shirt, I'm guessin'?" Will's hands slid into the back pockets of my jeans, pulling me flush against him. "He looks damn good in big shirts, don't he? All that skin showin', be a shame not to do somethin' about it."

I nodded and grinned, hearing the smallest gasp from the table. "He always looks so gorgeous with teeth marks, I think."

Will smirked, pecking my lips. "I have to agree, honey, if only he weren't so busy."

Papers shuffled on the table, as if someone were gathering them up and piling them neatly. The chair scraped on the floor and Will winked at me. He bent close to my ear again. "I think we won."

Nico stood up and cleared his throat, and I turned around to lean my back on Will's chest to look at him. He looked flustered.

"You can't- this isn't fair, you're both assholes." He crossed his arms. "I'm trying to work and you're... you're just..."

I reached out a hand and he folded instantly, almost tripping over himself to get to us. His fingers laced with mine and he tilted his head up ever-so-slightly to meet my lips.

Compared to his usual clothing, Nico was clad in soft sweatpants along with the aforementioned t-shirt, barefoot on the kitchen tile. He looked soft and welcoming and I smiled into the kiss.

Will kissed the back of my head. "Bedroom?"

I shook my head, breaking the kiss. "Sofa? Closer."

I recieved two nods and the three of us stumbled over to the sofa. I sat, dragging Nico on top of me so he was straddling my thighs. My fingers danced at the edges of his t-shirt. "This okay?"

He nodded enthustiastically and I ran my fingers up and down his spine with one hand, pulling him into a kiss with the other. Will came to stand behind Nico, bending over his neck and pressing quick kisses into the flesh. I could feel the heat radiating off Nico under the attention of both his partners.

Slowly, Nico took my hand and with a fierce blush put it to the back of his head.

"Want me to play with your hair, hm?"

He blushed harder. "Y-You were the one who wanted to, I'm just... helping."

"So helpful, sweetheart." I twisted my fingers in his dark waves, holding firmly near the base so as not to hurt him unecessarily. He keened, head leaning back and resting on Will's chest. I took the opportunity to lean forward and nip red marks into his skin, tiny flowers blossoming on top of the old ones.

Nico's hands twisted into my sweater and Will's hands reached down to ghost over the front of Nico's sweatpants. "Can I touch you, please, baby?"

Nico breathed out a "Yes," and Will dipped his hand beneath his waistband. Nico's head tried to jerk forward but my grip in his hair was firm and he ended up rolling his body forward, pressing further into Will's hand.

I touched two fingers to Nico's mouth and his lips parted, tongue darting out to lick at the tips before obediently taking them into his mouth.

Will cursed. "Shit, so pretty, huh? My tough guy all soft for us, just for us."

Nico nodded as best he could with my hand gently pulling at his locks and my fingers in his mouth. I shifted my hips against the sofa, eyes flicking between Nico's gorgeous expression and the obscene sight of Will jerking him off under his sweatpants.

Will pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Will you let me put my mouth on you, darlin'? You look so good, I wanna make you feel good, can I do that?"

Nico's eyes rolled back and I removed my fingers from his mouth so he could answer. "Fuck, yes, you can do that."

On slightly wobbling legs, Nico turned around until he was sitting on my lap with his back against my chest. I arranged his legs so he was spread open, sweatpants tugged off by Will who was now kneeling on the floor. I wrapped an arm around Nico's waist, makinng sure he didn't move too much.

Will licked a stripe up Nico's dick and I felt him jerk against me, inhaling sharply. I made eye contact with Will.

At the same time as he took Nico's dick into his mouth, I bit down on Nico's neck. He writhed against me, crying out and tangling his hand in Will's golden hair. "That was a dirty trick," he panted, barely getting the words out.

"We know." I sucked bruises into his skin, enjoying the feeling of his pounding pulse against my lips as Will drove him slowly crazy with his mouth.

Nico's breathing got heavier and faster and I moved my hands to the insides of his thighs to stop him closing his legs on Will. Nico's hands were everywhere, in Will's hair, clutching my arms, reaching back to hold my head against his neck, the boy was frantic with pleasure.

"Fu-fuck, I'm gonna- Will, I'm gonna come-!"

I clamped my hands down harder on his thighs as Will pulled off of Nico's dick, jerking him quick and dirty until Nico exploded, cum drenching Will's t-shirt.

His body went limp, collapsing totally into mine. I held him close, whispering praise and reassurance into his ear, how he did so good, so well for us, I was so proud of him, he was so fucking gorgeous.

Will vanished to quickly chuck his shirt into the washing machine, returning soon with some water and a damp towel. Nico took it gratefully, swallowing half the glass. Will remained kneeling, cleaning our boyfriend carefully and putting his sweatpants back on.

"You doin' okay, darlin'?" Will pressed a kiss to Nico's knee from his position on the floor.

Nico nodded. "Very okay." He raised an eyebrow. "Are your knees okay?"

Will laughed. "They're fine, so worth the ache."

Smiling, Nico bent forward to kiss Will sweetly before slipping off my lap and curling into the corner of the sofa with his water.

I turned to Will, and winked.

"Your turn."

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

genuinely one of the reasons i think i might be polyam is because i like writing polyam relationships so much

anyway thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoyed!

[nerdieforpedro]

A New Tradition with Frankie

Frankie "Catfish" Morales x GN reader

Fanfiction rating: Teens and up

My blog overall is 18+ MDNI

Masterlist / Frankie “Catfish” Morales Masterlist

Summary: An adventure in baking leads to fun and laughter at your expense. But in the end, his smile is what matters.

Warnings: likely bad baking directions, jokes in very poor taste, cursing, Frankie having fun at your expense, domestic fluff

Notes: I wanted to give Frankie some fluff. In my previous Frankie Fridays, I've been having that man work through his trauma. He needed some pure fluff and laughs. I did look up how to make gingerbread cookies but unlike many of the wonderful baking posts by @avastrasposts I have no idea what I’m doing. 😆 I made a post yesterday about what my chocolate chip cookies looked like and I cannot be trusted with an oven.

Word Count: approx. 1.2K

The directions had been clear and you read them twice before starting. You even tailored your shopping list to them and had double checked you had all the ingredients two days ago. Why do they all look like piles of lumpy dirt?

Now the ginger, cinnamon, brown sugar, molasses give it the brown color which makes sense. The wet ingredients you added after the dry because that’s what they always did on one of your favorite shows ‘Nailed it!’ and you made fun of the bakers who dumped everything in at once. You swear you’re not like them. You promise. 

The dough sat in the fridge for two and a half hours. The minimum was two but you were checking emails on your phone and lost track of time. A rolling pin was bought for this, you hadn’t owned one, never needed one but you got one. A good one not from the dollar store, but from Target. Rolled out the dough, shaped the little gingerbread cookies, set the oven to 350 degrees and put them in, rotating them halfway so they would bake evenly. The cookies had been rising and rising and maybe they rose a bit too much, but maybe it would fall like a cake. They all rise and fall right?

But now, these cookies mock you, they’re huge, puffy, oblong. Not the cute circles you’d cut out less than 30 minutes ago. What can you do with them?

“Hermosa (gorgeous), I’m home. Benny lost to the Raz guy again. He’s really got to train harder.” Your husband walked in, setting his keys in the dish by the door and slipping his boots off. He was making his way to the kitchen. You threw a dish towel over the cookies in a vain attempt to hide them. He’s a pilot whose job it is to keep track of minute details that can disrupt a flight plan. You’re not hiding anything. 

“Hey Frankie. Benny lost again? Maybe he should take a break for a bit like you said.” You smiled, your fingers nervously tapping your thigh. He was scanning you and the room.

“Hermosa. What’s under the cloth? This isn’t the day you murder me for wearing shoes inside the house is it?” He laughed moving toward you and those abominations called cookies. 

“No. And I mention one time how I don’t like dirt tracked in the house and you go right to murder Morales. Jeez.” You crossed your arms in false offense before pulling him close to you by his arms. “You have to pay the toll, you know. Just gonna walk in this house and think you don’t. Mighty full of yourself sir.” You grinned and placed a soft peck on his lips. Frankie smiled and put an arm around your shoulders, deepening the kiss before stepping back, holding the dishcloth.

“I’m a man who pays his debts.” He took one look at the oversized cookies and doubled over in laughter. “Hermosa no, baby why? These are the gingerbread cookies you talked about? They look like…like..”

“Don’t say it…” You covered your ears. You’d hear him anyways, but it didn’t stop you from being mortified that he saw them and what you both knew they looked like.

“Like what came out of Santi’s dog after he gave him that kibble with the extra fiber..!” Frankie continued to bellow with glee, clumsy stepping back. Your hands went from your ears to your hips, face burning with annoyance but also glee that he was able to laugh so freely. It used to be difficult to get a chuckle out of the man when he wasn’t with his brothers in arms. 

“I used to like you Frankie. Damn it.” At this point, you’re biting your lips to hold back your own laugh. Morales is red in the face, starting to wheeze.

“Hermosa, you know I love you.” Despite his eyes starting to water, he’s stepping toward you, in an effort to get away from him, you move to the other side of the table when he easily uses his long legs to intercept and catch you from behind, nuzzling his chin in your neck while still chuckling. “I love you and your shity looking cookies.”

“You’re lucky, you’re cute and I’m a sucker for men who like my shity looking cookies.”

You finally gave in and giggled in his arms as he rocked you from side to side.

“Did you try them? Are they edible?” He asked, waddling back over to the cookies with you.

“I hadn’t tried them yet. I was so taken with what they looked like.” You admitted. 

The both of you agreed to break a cookie in half to try. Now standing side by side, you counted to three and bit into the cookie. It was warm, fluffy and actually tasted sweet. Like gingerbread.

“Damn mi vida (my life), they look horrible, but taste great. This is your first time making them right?” Frankie asked, chewing it and downed the other half. He kissed your forehead, leaving a few crumbs from his patchy beard which you brushed off your head. 

“Yeah. I wanted to try and make a tradition for us, and surprise you. I guess I did both. Not exactly how I planned though.” You finished your half of the cookie as well, licking your lips. Proud that you did at least make something that tasted good. In the midst of studying the cookies, you saw a glint of something. Turning, Frankie had pulled out his phone and was snapping pictures of the cookies. “Morales! Don’t you dare!” You lunged in an effort to grab his phone from him, he put his hands up and out of your reach.

“I gotta save the memory of these cookies! You understand mi vida?” That booming laugh of his returned as his hands snaked around your sides. You twisted your mouth, determined to let him know that you weren’t ok with him taking pictures of your baking disaster. But he was laughing so much more, more than he had been in months.

“Just don’t send them to the guys. Please Francisco.” His smile curved into a grin.

“I’m Francisco now? Well maybe I should, since I’ve been downgraded to Francisco.” He touched his prominent nose to yours, rubbing it slightly. It tickled and you drew back before rubbing yours against his. 

“I just called you by your name. I’m serious. Don’t. Benny still calls me Baby Legs from when I did shots with you guys.” Morales bites his bottom lips before digging his face into your shoulder, you feel the vibrations of his laughter on your skin.

“I know, I know.” He assured you when he picked his head back up, he put his phone in his pocket and placed his palm on your cheek. “Next time we’ll bake them together, alright mi amor (my love)? We’ll make it a tradition like you said.” You both took another look at the bloated cookies and laughed together, echoing so the neighbors could hear if they chose to.

Tag List:

@fhatbhabie @morallyinept @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @grogusmum @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @iamasaddie @psychedelic-ink @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @pedrodascal @marcus-is-my-muse @clawdee @mintypossum @trulybetty @perotovar @joelslegalwhre @josephquinnswhore @mandoisapunk @secretelephanttattoo @for-a-longlongtime @tessa-quayle @legendary-pink-dot @sin-djarin @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @magpiepillsjunior @intoanotherworld23 @linzels-blog @joelmillers-whore @guelyury @laurfilijames @missladym1981 @pamasaur @alltheglitterandtheroar @din-djarins-riduur @daddy-dins-girl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @yorksgirl @saturn-rings-writes @gwendibleywrites @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @undercoverpena @musings-of-a-rose @gnpwdrnwhiskey

[samsexualdeancurious]

Separate Showers

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 996

Summary: A little post-hunt recovery

Warnings: Ambiguous Reader gender, non-sexual nudity, the bunker's shower room (thank god for Jerry Wanek's set photos lol), fluff

A/N: Just a dumb lil thing I wrote to get it out of my brain.

---

To say today was a long one would be an understatement. It feels like an eternity before you’re finally making your way down the bunker steps ahead of the Winchesters. You feel gross from the long drive. You might enjoy a road trip but even you have a limit and you definitely reached it sometime during these last few hunts.

“I need a fucking shower,” you complain.

“I think we all need a shower.” Dean’s right behind you on the steps, stinking like road sweat. You wrinkle your nose and he gives your shoulder a little shove. “Shut up. Like you’re any better.”

That’s true. The Impala’s AC went out just into Kansas and the last few hours of the drive were absolutely miserable as a result, even with all four windows rolled down. You don’t want to even think about how you might smell.

Sam is quiet as he follows you back to your bedroom. It’s clear your big-brained boyfriend is feeling more than a little overwhelmed and exhausted. He needs some non-diner food, some quiet time, and maybe a nap. Or a run. Knowing Sam, probably a run.

“Separate showers?” you suggest and Sam’s hazel eyes are grateful as he nods. “All right. I’ll meet you back here.”

It took you a little while to get used to the gym shower set-up the bunker has. Even now, you have a strong preference for the stall furthest from the door so the boys won’t walk past you on their way to their own shower. Not like it’s anything Sam hasn’t seen before but there are no shower curtains! It’s the principle of the thing.

Awkward set-up aside, the bunker showers are downright magical. Probably literally magical, knowing the Men of Letters. The hot water never seems to run out, either, which is fantastic. You take your time scrubbing all the sweat and dirt from the road from your body and then waste a little more time just enjoying the steady pounding of water on your shoulders and neck.

When you do finally step out of the showers, the boys are in their own stalls. Sam’s clothes are in a pile on the floor outside the stall right next to yours and as you stop to gather them up along with your own, you can resist peeking in.

“Hi,” Sam says with a soft smile, pushing his hair out of his face.

You can’t help a grin as you lean against the dividing wall, taking in the sight of him. The way the water highlights every perfect curve and point of his body as he tips his head back to get his hair fully under the spray. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“Don’t you dare have shower sex right now,” Dean calls from a couple of stalls down and you can’t hold back a laugh.

Sam shoots you a smirk and leans out of the spray to kiss you softly. While he might look absolutely amazing, especially naked and wet like this, neither of you is really in the mood to do anything even if Dean wasn’t in the room.

“Don’t worry, you’re delicate ears are safe,” you tease as you shoot Sam one last little smile and begin making your way from the room. You don’t look but you’d bet money that Dean flips you the bird as you go by.

You’re sitting on the end of the bed, having completed your post-shower routine, when Sam comes into the room. He’s dressed in just an old pair of lounge pants and the sight of him padding barefoot into the room warms you to your core.

“Feeling a bit better?” you ask as he rubs at his hair with a towel.

He nods, wiping water droplets from his forehead. His eyes are on the item in your hand. You smile and hold the hairbrush out in offering.

“Want me to?”

“Hell yeah,” Sam sighs and you laugh softly.

“Well, c’mere then.”

Sam tosses his towel in the hamper and lowers himself to sit on the floor between your feet, back against the side of the mattress. His hair doesn’t really need to be brushed like this. The man was blessed with magic hair that just needs fingers combed through it after a shower or in the morning to look perfect. It’s really not fair. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy the process of it, though.

You work methodically, taking your time as you start with his ends and make your way up. Sam is practically melting under your hands. When you’re done with the brush, you set it aside and begin gently massaging his scalp. Sam moans softly. His head tips forward and you move your ministrations to his neck and shoulders. In no time, he’s leaning heavy and sleepy against your knee.

“Sa-am,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “C’mon. Up.”

He grumbles but allows you to guide him up onto the bed. Once he’s snuggled up against you, head resting on your chest, he’s out in seconds. It’s only early afternoon but you don’t mind holding him while he naps. Not when he snuffles softly and nuzzles against your T-shirt.

A soft knock on the doorframe draws your attention from Sam’s relaxed face to the open doorway where Dean’s standing. He’s dressed completely in his usual jeans and layers but his hair is still damp from his shower, sticking up all over like it does in the mornings before he’s gotten around to style it. You give a little wave.

“He sleeping?” Dean asks, careful to keep his voice low.

You nod.

“All right. I’m going to get started on dinner in a bit. Think he’d be up for something light? I’m thinking some soup and grilled cheese.”

That sounds delicious. Hopefully, Sam will agree. You nod again and Dean shoots you a thumbs up, flipping off the lights and closing the door as he leaves you to watch over Sam’s nap.

[moodymisty]

Hi again! After reading your latest Wrecker multi-chapter fic, you got me down bad for the bestest big boy of the GAR ❤️‍🔥 if you’re looking for ideas, maybe a little one-shot of the reader trying to surprise wrecker by painting a little Lula on the inside of his armor somewhere so that he can always carry him with her on missions, or something along those lines? And as always, keep up the amazing work. I’m always so excited when I see you on my dashboard 🤍🤍🤍

- Helmet Anon 🤍

Author’s note: -punches your frequent flyer card- Welcome to the Wreckerwives!! I'm just glad people are enjoying my content for the biggest bestest boy. This is so sweet and cute;; I thank you for feeding me with fluff in my time of need. I needed some fluffies with my big boy.

Relationships: Wrecker/Fem!Reader (only because of one usage of 'pretty girl')

Warnings: Fluff fluff and more fluff, Post-Order 66, Wrecker being best boy, The tiniest tiniest amount of self doubt from reader

The visor stares back with an unfeeling tinted glare, helmet far too wide for your hands to fully wrap around. The texture of scratches, dents, and dirt rub against your palms, having only just been handed it seconds ago.

"You sure? I thought that painting armor was special and all that to you guys? At least that's what I heard Hunter say once."

Wrecker throws out a nonchalant hand, watching as you hold his helmet in your hands while looking up at him. He's leaning against the wall right next to the refresher door, arms loosely crossed over his chest.

"Ehhh it is to some, but I don't care about it that much. I ain't good at any of that delicate work anyways. Have at it." Wrecker reaches a hand out and squishes your cheek, earning a clap to the arm to get him to quit it even though you're smiling.

"You're the artsy one anyways. I know you'll do a good job."

Ever since Wrecker had got into an extremely bad firefight, his already weathered armor had sustained significant damage; Enough so that a few pieces had taken some heavy wear and tear. The other pieces also had paint chipping and peeling off in significant chunks, leaving the armor heavily battered.

The orange paint is barely visible, from how much it's been scratched at and burnt away. Even after washing it clean, you barely had to scrub in order to have a decent enough surface to paint over.

Having taken all of his armor off to sleep for the night, He piles it all by the foot of his bunk for you to easily get to.

"Don't worry; I'll do my best." Adjusting his helmet in your grip so it's less awkward and unsure, you smile up at him. "Now get some sleep, big guy."

Needless to say he was already planning on it; Though he still has one more thing to check off his list before he turns in for the night.

Leaning down to your level Wrecker quickly swoops in for a kiss on the cheek and then your lips, his large still gloved hand cupping your jawline.

"Don't stay up to late, gorgeous." You'll try not to, but you give no real promise. You want to get this all done tonight so it has time to dry.

And... It's something productive for you to do.

Watching as he hauls himself into his bunk you grab his chestplate with your other hand, taking them both into the cockpit. Tech is sitting in the pilot's seat working on something with his datapad, though looks away from it when you speak up.

"I'll take the first watch; Since I have some work to do." Tech looks to Wrecker's armor in your hands, and rises to his feet before nodding.

"Very well. Be sure to wake Hunter or I when you require rest."

You note how he doesn't say Echo; More than likely because he gets so little rest to begin with, everyone wants to let him take this rare lull in action to recharge.

Tech leaves you in the cockpit alone, going to get some rest himself while you gather some supplies. You find the orange paint they'd originally used to recolor their armor, along with some black and red, and a few paint brushes; Though they're from when they many rotations ago painted the outside of the Marauder. It's easy enough to cut the bristles on one of them to work for smaller lines, though it hurts the inner artist in you to do so. But it must be done.

Taking your supplies back to the cockpit you hunker down in the co-pilot's seat, putting your things on the control panel while setting his helmet at your feet. His chestplate stays in your hands, before you sit down and look it over.

Sometimes it's weird, not seeing the red. It was the color you had always associated them with. But things change, so you dip your brush in some paint and begin to work.

As you do, you can hear the little sounds of some wildlife still awake in the forest, but are too scared to enter the clearing you're currently landed in. Apart from some little flying creatures, which briefly land on the nose of the ship and give you a look, just catching your shape thanks to the dim lights of the control panel before taking off again.

Other than that, it's almost completely quiet. Wrecker and Tech aren't even snoring. You keep painting, brushing over the barely visible lines to form newer, brighter ones. They still aren't clean, this paint is old and thick and you know it'll all get torn to shreds anyways, but you still try to keep a steady hand.

Though maybe Hunter has been up this whole time, or more time has passed than you've thought, as not long after you sit his chestplate down to dry on the ground, you hear the soft sounds of Hunter's feet coming up into the cockpit.

"Hard at work?"

With his hand resting on the back of the seat he peers over your shoulder, watching your hand at work as you sit crosslegged. Wrecker's helmet is now in your lap, tucked snugged between your thighs as you gently paint over the damage. He's not in any of his armor either; His hair slightly more messy than usual.

"Try trying to earn my keep." You smile up at Hunter, watching his face change.

It's, not exactly a secret to Hunter that you've had some self worth issues as of late. You've felt as if you don't contribute enough, at least not to the extent that you feel you 'should'. Wrecker knows as well and tries to cheer you up, but sometimes it still eats at you.

"You know you don't have to do that, right?" Rolling your eyes, you dunk the brush in your paint tin.

"It was just a joke, Hunter. Don't worry." Hunter seems to let it go, though more than likely because he can't find the right words to say.

"You should turn in; It's going to be sunrise soon." Taking your brush from the container of paint, you shake your head and begin another line.

"I still have a bit left to do; I'll wake you up when I'm done." He nods, turning and walking presumably back to his bunk. Still a little while longer to catch some sleep. Meanwhile it's only a few more strokes of paint before you're finished with the helmet, putting the paintbrush in the container again.

With the two largest pieces down, the others should each be pretty quick. You just need to go grab them, slipping off the seat and putting the helmet on the control panel before leaving the cockpit.

Wrecker's arm is draped off the side of the bunk, him sleeping on his stomach face smushed into the pillow. Being such a sound sleeper you can take the rest of the armor pieces you need to paint back with you, without so much as a stir from him.

Sitting back down in your seat with them in your lap you rub your eye, before picking up the brush.

Piece by piece you work, every now and again looking up to see the sky still the same starry night. It's impressive how much the stars and moons illuminate, given it's the only light outside. All of the Marauder's exterior lights are off, leaving only one or two internal ones.

Sitting another piece on the ground you keep working, rubbing your eye again with the back of your hand. You can't tell how quickly you're working, but you've at least been fast enough that by the time you're almost done there's still no sign of daylight, glancing up at the front viewport as you slouch over the final piece.

You hold the little piece of armor in your hand, looking it over.

There's little scratches on it, and they morph together to almost look like Lula with the blurriness of your tired eyes. And since it's a bit of a free canvas, you decide to paint over the scratches an actual image of Lula, with what limited palette you have.

Once it's done, you can't help but smile at it. It's a bit silly and rudimentary, but it's cute. One ear flops a little more downward than the other, and the eyes seem a little crooked. It's sloppy, but cute. They way it's making you smile almost makes your cheeks hurt. You paint a few little hearts around it just for fun, before sitting the piece down. You just have the last handplate left to do, and it's only a small little line.

It should only take a minute or two, as you lean your back against the seat; chin on your collarbone as you look down. Your brush flops onto the piece lazily, shaking a little as you yawn. Even though your eyes are heavy and tired, you only have this left.

Only a few more minutes, then you can go sleep...

...

"Hey, Hey..."

Your body suddenly jerks, looking to see Wrecker at your side. His hand is on your left shoulder, as he looks down on you. Everything feels so different, you only remember resting your eyes for a moment.

"You fell asleep here, pretty girl. Why didn't you wake up Hunter or Tech?"

Leaning forward you feel your back groan in pain, having been slouched in such an awkward angle for at least a few hours. Your body complains even more so when you stand, letting out a wide yawn.

"I was trying to finish everything up; I must've fallen asleep right when I got done." You can hear rustling around in the background and the sounds of talking; The more smooth voice is clearly Tech, while it sounds like he's talking to Echo. You can't figure out what they're saying, more of your attention is on Wrecker; Who's voice raises even louder as he looks over your handiwork. Tossing his helmet around in his hands he looks it over, a wide smile on his face.

"It looks perfect! I knew you'd be able to do it." Even if you're still sleepy you still quickly reciprocate his kiss; Him covering your lips with so much eagerness he almost pushes your head back. Wrecker always gives the sloppiest, most lovable kisses. When he pulls away, you point downward at the small armor pieces.

"Look underneath the hand plate." Wrecker lifts it up off the floor, and sees the little Lula painted underneath.

"There were some scratches on it that were shaped like Lula; And... I thought you might like to always have her around." The way his face brightens more than it already always is makes you smile; His positivity is always contagious.

Hand still holding the little armor piece he moves to grab your bottom, lifting you off the ground high enough to put you right at head height with him. His leans his head forward to give you a kiss, feeling the way your hands wrap around his jaw. You can feel his growing stubble on your palms, as he eagerly kisses you before pulling away.

"I'll always have 'er around, and you too. Since I know you made it."

He loves the way you smile at him and you lean in to kiss his cheek, swaying you in his grasp and listening to you laugh.

"Are you ready to- woah!"

Pulling your lips away from Wrecker you look over your shoulder and see Hunter having dodged your swaying legs, that were bent at the knee.

"Oh gods, sorry Hunter!" He smiles before noticing your mess of supplies by the co-pilot's seat, and remembers the night before.

"Have you been in here all night?" Your arms around Wrecker's neck still, you nod.

"Yeah; I kind of fell asleep sitting up right before the sun started rising." Hunter sighs. He'd told you to get some sleep, but he really shouldn't be surprised you didn't listen.

"We're leaving in a bit. Go try and get some rest beforehand." Wrecker gently puts you back on the ground, giving Hunter a joking salute in response to his gentle command.

You won't exactly complain, as you still feel horribly tired even with the small amount of poor rest you'd gotten. Sleeping in the proper position on Wrecker's bunk will be more than a decent improvement over the co-pilot's seat.

Wrecker shadows you the whole way, and to your surprise, decides to join you for your nap instead of helping his brothers.

"They're going to yell at you for being lazy, you know." Even if you're trying to convince him to get up you still wrap your arm around him, pressing your body close against his side.

"Awful lot of talking for someone that should be napping..." He's so warm, you're eyes stay close as you let out a little groan at him. His arm that you're using as a pillow wraps around you more, pulling you even closer to him.

You think he says something else, and even lets out a chuckle, but you're too far falling into sleep to respond.

Join the taglist here: @coffeyorky @nekotaetae @simp-legend @starborncyare @seriowan @chad-something(It would not let me tag you sorry)

[wildbornsiren]

Bradley and Bob going to visit Bob’s family and it’s just so cute because they’re so welcoming and Bradley chokes up because it feels like home

Fe. Fe. FE. A brilliant explosion of color lined the road, the fall foliage on display everywhere he looked. Bradley glanced over at Bob, who was humming along with the song on the radio as he drove. One hand on the wheel, the other holding Bradley’s. Thumb smoothing over the back of his hand. It was still all so new, despite being together for nearly a year now, and when Bob asked him to come home to meet the family, Bradley panicked. Bob had put up with it all. The silence, the nerves, the eight million questions when Bradley decided that yes, he would go home with Bob to Tennessee. “You alright?”

The soft question startled Bradley out of his thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s gorgeous out there.” “It’s gorgeous in here too.” Bob grins, and Bradley’s heart skips a beat. He squeezes Bob’s hand gently. “Last chance to back out,” Bob says softly, turning down a dirt road. “I’m ready.” The drive widens slightly, winding along. Immense pastures spread out as far as he can see, the sunset setting everything ablaze in shades of oranges and reds. There’s a slight dip in the road, Bob taking a hard right, the crunch of gravel giving way to concrete. The drive ends in a loop with a sprawling ranch house. Bob pulls up next to another truck. There’s a blonde woman, a child on her hip talking to man who has an identical child on his hip while two more race around the truck. “My sister Ellie, and that’s her husband Jeff.” Bob says softly. “The twins are in a Dr. Seuss stage and only answer to Thing One and Thing Two. The boy with the cowboy hat is Jensen, and the little girl is Aubrey.” “We like Jeff?” “We like Jeff.” Bob repeats. “Margret is on the porch, and her boyfriend is probably in the house.” There’s a blonde woman standing on the porch, laughing as three dogs escape out the front chased by two more children, a teenager following lazily after them. “The two little kids belong to my cousin.” Bob says, “They’re staying with momma while Rhett’s working the circuit. The teenager is Charlie, he’s Margret’s.” Bob startles when there’s a thump to his window, turning to see a third woman with her face pressed against the glass comically. “That’s Cassie.” Bob says as Bradley laughs, seeing the slow realization in her eyes that Bob isn’t alone in the cab of the truck. “You ready?” “Absolutely not.” Bradley says with a soft laugh, but he’s got his hand on the door release. His feet hit the ground, and there’s a moment of quiet. He can feel all eyes on him, taking his measure. And then Bob gets out of the truck. He slams the door closed, walking over to Bradley taking his hand. “Behave, all of you.” There’s another moment of silence, broken by a thunderous crash, or the call of a very large bird of prey, Bradley’s not sure. The two kids who had been running around the other truck turn and barrel straight into Bob, taking him down while the dogs, and two other younger children join in. “Ellie,” the woman with a toddler on her hip, offers her hand. They shake, and he grins. “Hold this,” She hands Bradley the toddler. “Robert Floyd you didn’t tell me you were bringing your boyfriend?” Ellie takes a foot to her knee and she joins the dog pile as Cassie knocks into her. There’s a whole lot of wrestling and yelling and hysterical giggles. “Are you Thing One, or Thing Two?” Bradley asks the blond toddler who blinks brilliant blue eyes at him. The kid holds up two fingers, before there’s a tiny hand slapping against his mustache. “Pleased to meet you Thing Two.” Bradley murmurs and is rewarded with happy laughter. “It’s safer inside.” Jeff tips his head toward the house, Margret was moving down the stairs zeroed in on the mass of bodies rolling around in the dirt. They head up to the house, Bradley’s stomach rumbling when he smells something delicious coming from the kitchen. “Welcome to the chaos.” Jeff says with a smile. “Go find Nanna, tell her Uncle Bobby and his boyfriend are here.” He sets one twin down, and takes the other from Bradley. It’s warm and noisy, there’s toys strewn about, shoes piled up in the entry way. A television is playing cartoons, there’s music coming from the kitchen. Bradley feels his shoulders drop, the last bit of nerves evaporating from his belly. He hadn’t felt like this in years, and it was something that he had missed deep down in his cells. Home. The door bangs open behind them, bringing with it a gust of chilly autumn air. Bob’s draped on his back, Bradley supporting his weight, feeling himself blush when a soft kiss is pressed to his cheek. “Come on, let’s introduce you to Momma.”

[takiisieju]

Hi! 👋 Sending in some prompts for the SWARM drabble challenge :3

8. Sunrise in Koral

9. Sunset in Koral

Honestly all the characters from your SWARM universe are wonderful, but my favorite is Acid & Base <3

Hi! Thank you so much! This'll have to be divided into two parts, but I am very thankful for two prompts.

taglist: @roofgeese @poisonedtruth @theelderhazelnut @scentedcandleibex @spacestephh

tw: descriptions of insects

SUNRISE IN KORAL

The giant orange orb shows the tip of its flaming crown far beyond the Green Sea. The pinkish rays cut through its treacherous waves, and, as if swimming up to the Koral city, they paint the walls and cliffs with gorgeous golden hour watercolors. Even the many statues on the streets look alive in this lighting.

The city wakes up.

A flock of bats flies into the open window, swarms of bugs, moths, cockroaches and centipedes follow suit. A few rats crawl out of the walls. All of them seek the same place – a piece of yellow fabric lying on the untouched bedsheets. A small pile forms under the fabric, growing with every new creature joining the others. It grows and grows and grows until the red-haired head shows from inside the wide collar. The last of bugs crawl into the Swarm’s mouth, and he opens his eyes, inhaling sharply.

Another sunrise, another birth. Another dream of many places his nocturnal “pets” visited, many cicadas they heard and the sea that tried to swallow them whole. Not all of them returned, killed and eaten by stray cats, but Swarm always kept extras. Now, they crawled under his coat, settling on the thing’s body.

Swarm stands up, looks at himself in the mirror, mixes up one of the many different dirt and clay masks, covering his face with it. It is pointless, of course. Swarm creates a perfect body for himself – with perfectly smooth, soft skin, ever perfectly clean and neatly styled hair, even his signature makeup intact. It’s all just old habits, from his first, unhappy life. Shaking off the unpleasant thoughts, he cleans his face with a wet towel, and walks into the kitchen.

“Renata!” he calls. No response. He calls her again, but she never wakes up from just that.

He sighs and walks into her room, shaking the woman a little.

“It’s sunrise, Renata,” he whispers.

She groans but crawls out of bed. Paying no mind to the thing still being here, she starts to change her clothes. Swarm turns around politely, walking back to the kitchen. There’s water to boil, food to cook. They eat together, then Renata collects her plants and heads to the market, and Swarm returns to his room to carve out another woodblock of his illustration. It has to be done by tomorrow.

There are no clocks in Koral. The sun itself decides when the locals wake up and have midday rest and go to sleep. Even Acid-und-Base wakes up with the sun. She stretches her muscles, getting ready to spend the day swimming, hunting for fish and whatever treasure the Green Sea keeps from the earth-walkers. She looks at her stone beloved with a sorrowful sigh, and as she kisses him goodbye, the only ticking clock she found at the coral reefs showing it’s half past four.

Which means that Royal Deluxe and his mother have awakened ten minutes ago. The Fortune Teller boils the water, cooks whatever her son cuts beside her. Then, as they are about to eat, she takes two cards out of her deck. It’s The Hands for her and The Lion for him. Half of the seaweed pirozhki go into Royal Deluxe’s bag to be brought to his girlfriends.

One of them, Torophya, is particularly busy in the morning, standing beside a big cauldron, tossing in eggs, seaweed, herbs and fish, until something akin to a soup is ready. People of all sorts flock to the community diner, each one well-remembered by the cook, each one well-remembering her as well.

Each one gets a plate of warm food, a quarter of flatbread and hot water, infused with mint, basil or lemongrass. Soon, the entire hall is filled with people enjoying their free warm meal, discussing work and leisure and this day’s food. Kali Kali comes in too. A hearty meal is essential for her, having hours of labour ahead. There’s always cement to mix, rocks to carry and sand to dig. And so they promise to go to Royal Deluxe together.

The first pigeons start to deliver mail, white like a surrender flag. Neela has had her breakfast already, now busy with her beloved birds. The strongest ones are to deliver mail to the mainland’s cities, the smartest – to the ever-travelling Ark, and the youngest – around Koral.

The many pigeons rest atop of the ship-building docks. People there are already making and fixing boats and ships, as if there’s no task more important, at least in their lives. It smells like resin and wood stain and sea salt. One of the workers, a crowned man in greens, is measuring the wooden boards for a young fisherboy’s boat. And while he is a professional and a worker first and foremost, Avaritie knows the dishonest boy a little too well to let it slide. The boat will be finished, and it will be one good boat, guaranteed to serve the boy for long. But as the boy’ll be thanking Avaritie’s brigade, a small red orb will fall out of his mouth into the water basket near him, the one they drink from to prevent fainting from hard work and the chemical stench.

Perhaps that makes the boy reconsider his life choices and stop selling yesterday's fish as if it were fresh.

Or, perhaps, his soul now belongs to Avaritie forever.

[ribinapan]

we meet.

“that’s a lot of seeds.” her eyes glanced over the piles and piles of small packets in my basket, obviously not looking really happy about having to scan all of that one by one. i glance behind me, nervous, but it’s not like there’s a line. i’m the only one there this late.

“ah, uh, yeah.” i chuckle, “um, i know how many i have if that, uh, if you have like, a quantity butto–” she’s shaking her head before i finish my sentence, and it dies in my throat.

“ah. well… sorry.”

she blinks at me a couple times, and then starts to pick the packets out of the cart.

beep. beep. beep. beep…

she’s pretty. she’s got a lot more piercings than i do, and piercing (haha) brown eyes that seem to glare into my soul. her hair’s tied up in a loose ponytail, and it’s about three different colors. it doesn’t look washed, or brushed, but the way it frames her face still seems to manage to scream ‘this woman’s gorgeous’ in my face. i hate people who are pretty like that. i almost stop feeling bad about the 33 morning glory seed packets, but then i look down at my basket and feel the guilt well back up in me again,

“aren’t these that kind of flower that only bloom once? for like, an hour?”

“hm?” i’m broken out of my ‘pretty girl’ trance, and do another little nervous chuckle, rubbing my arm. “ah– oh. yeah. morning glories. yeah.”

“and you bought…” she looks at her screen. “so far, more than $23.49 worth of them?”

“oh, well– um– yes.”

“...why?”

“ah– well– you know. the– name. they usually start blooming early morning, and they last a couple hours. i planted like, a fuckton once, woke up real early around the time they bloomed every morning til they did. sat there with them til the sun came up and kept coming back til they died. it was– well, it was kind of– really pretty.” like you, my brain supplied, but i thankfully kept my mouth shut.

beep. beep…

she finishes scanning, ringing me up for a total that ends up somewhere around fifty dollars, but i don’t care enough to look, just trying to get out of there. she drops something into my bag and i think it’s the receipt, so i grab it, mumble a thank you, and book it out of there, already deciding to buy all my flowers in small trips next year, the guilt following me out.

i don’t realize until i get home, but she didn’t ever get to give me my receipt. i pull a little folded piece of paper out, and unfold it, confused.

Maybe you can show me these ‘morning flowers’ sometime?

xxx-xxx-xxxx

-nico

i think i fainted.

~

i own an acre of land i got from my grandparents.

yes, just an acre.

nothing on it, and i can’t afford to put anything there. so i nailed some sort of shed-like thing together, and i grow flowers all around it and all over it. it’s my little hide out spot. i camp out there with the spiders and the screaming bugs when i want to feel like it’s just me against the world. i scatter the morning glory seeds all around it.

they’re best when they creep up it slowly, growing through the spaces and blooming all over. it makes me feel like a fairy.

when i brought nico for the first time she laughed, because it really just looked like a big space of flat dirt and a pile of wood.

but i kept bringing her back, and slowly all the other flowers started to bloom again. i showed her where the morning glories were peeping up, and she asked me when we were actually going to get flowers out of them.

“ah, we’ll– probably have to wait ‘til early summer.”

her head shot up in shock. “like, almost a year?”

i smiled a little. “ah, yeah. i guess you have to stick around at least that long, then.”

she blinked a couple times, then smiled back, slinging an arm around my shoulder.

“i don’t think i’ll have a problem with that.”

~

a taylor swift concert. i wasn’t expecting that at all, definitely not from nico, but she was squealing like a little girl and trying to buy pre-sale tickets and pacing around my kitchen like it was a gym, like she was going to wear a path into my floor.

now,

i wouldn’t mind

a permanent reminder of her.

she had almost everything planned out meticulously until she glanced down at the city it was in, and frowned.

“oh, i hate driving over there.”

nicolette had a fear of driving, i learned that pretty quickly. she had a couple set places she could go, but otherwise she had to be the passenger. i shifted uncomfortably, and then said,

“i’ll go with you. i’ll drive.”

the words came tumbling out of my mouth before i could rethink it. i hate taylor swift.

but her face lit up like a fucking christmas tree, and her brown eyes found mine and held them captive there, and i knew i wasn’t going to take it back.

“really?”

“really.”

she came over, squealing, jumping on the sofa and pushing me back. our noses touched.

“i could marry you right now.”

ah. my brain supplied, that means more taylor swift concerts.

~

your favorite album

came out again, in cd–

signed copy.

i went to three

book stores

(our favorite spot,

the one

thirty minutes away

the one you hated

riding to.)

and one more cd store i found on maps.

i found a copy and stared at it, standing in the middle of the shop, just, there. wondering if you’d respond if i sent it to you. wondering if you’d do anything if i gave you anything at all.

i went home.

~

“viola,”

she says while i’m tending to some of the morning glory vines, snipping away and trying to lead the trail up my little encampment. i act like i can’t hear her, even though i can, even though i really, really don’t want to.

“vi,” she says again, a little louder, “we need to talk.”

“did you know that morning glories can be invasive?” i responded again, “if they find a spot they like, they really don’t want to leave.”

“vi.”

i turned around, facing her with the snippers.

“nico.”

she looked at me. she didn’t look sad. she didn’t look guilty. her face just looked hard. cool, maybe. i knew she thought i had done something wrong. guilt coiled up in my stomach like a hungry snake. had i done something wrong?

“we need to talk.”

.

.

.

~

“you know,”

i said to a vine that had made it to the top of my shed,

“you hurt me, too, i think.”

no response,

obviously,

but saying it made me feel better.

~

you didn’t get to see them,

the way they climbed up to the sky,

the way they bloomed,

one

by

one

you didn’t get to see them,

but they bloomed

anyway.

i picked one off right after it bloomed, crawling

out into

a sea of color

without you

(we were supposed to see this together.

we were supposed to see this together.)

(they bloomed anyway).

~

i was still holding a now wilting flower, sitting in front of my shed, when my friends woke up behind me.

“vi?” mer said, sitting up, rubbing their eyes groggily. “you’re already awake? that’s fucking new.” they joked.

i turned around, closing my fist around the flower. “yeah. never really got used to sleeping outside.”

they nodded, then open their mouth to say something, but i watch as their eyes catch on the flowers outside. “oh my god! they’re bloomed!” they elbow riley hard, who groans, rolling over to push his face into his sleeping bag in response. “get up, jones, you fuckin’ moron! you’re going to miss it!”

“give riley a minute. they do stay bloomed for a couple hours.” i laughed, the tension uncoiling from me as mer shook riley awake.

the three of us step into my gigantic flower bed together, turning around to see the new blues, purples, whites, pinks– that have joined us, that have turned the entire space into a sea of color– and i let out a little whoop.

“good job, vi.” mer says. “you made a really pretty way to absolutely topple the local ecosystem.”

“oh, shut up, mer.” riley nudges them, “let her have this.”

mer eyes me, obviously thinking a bunch of mean things but deciding to say none of them. “i guess vi can have their invasives this once.” they look back out over the garden. “she did pick a really pretty way to be bad for the environment, after all.”

i eye mer back, wanting to say a bunch of nice things, like:

i love you. thank you for being here. im so glad you decided to hurt your back and cramp for the next two days to do this with me, even though its out of pity, even though you’re only both here because you know someone else was supposed to be, even though you’re standing here making fun of me. i love you, for being here, to call my flowers pretty, for standing by me even though i care about a terrible person, when you’re right here, an example of the perfect person, the perfect people. thank you. thank you so much, and i’m sorry i am ruining our local ecosystem for one morning’s worth of pretty a year.

“yeah,” i smile, taking a deep breath with my whole chest, staring at my friends standing in the middle of my tons of flowers, with the sun rising behind them and my new little fairy-mound of a shed. “yeah, really pretty.”

~

morning glories

didn’t need

you

to bloom.

i won’t either.

-(i won’t, i won’t.)

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

a little vent short story / poem that i thought i’d share bc i made funky little cover art for it, here is my good ol flower lesbian character, viola

[redtsundere-writes]

Ride or Die | Sukuna Ryomen

big brother!sukuna ryomen x f!reader Sypnosis: Your troublemaker bestie, Yuuji, gets into a fight, so you had to call his big brother, Sukuna, to rescue both. Contents: Yuuji and you are 18. Sukuna is 19. High school/Modern AU. Friends to lovers. “Who did this to you?” vibes. SMUT. MDNI. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Warnings: Depictions of violence and animal abuse. Word Count: Author's Note: Thanks for helping me pick which fic to write first on my last poll! I hope you guys like it! :3

Sukuna likes you. Yeah, yeah… His ego is so up his ass that he can’t confess his feelings towards you, we all know that. I mean, you are gorgeous, smart, and kind, how could Sukuna not fall in love with you? There’s a problem, though. A pink-haired, stubborn and over-friendly problem. You were Yuuji’s best friend. His little brother’s best friend.

Sukuna knew that Itadori had a big crush on you because you two were inseparable. If he fell for you when you first met, Itadori definitely fell harder. Sukuna knew it by the way his lil bro smiled, giggled and focused on you every time you hang around. Sukuna could be a player, but he wasn’t Mr. Steal-Your-Girl.

One day, Sukuna was taking a nap after work. He was well off until he heard his phone ringing. He picked it and the sleepiness went away once he saw your name lighting on the screen. This was unusual. You sometimes text each other, but the conversation always revolves in Yuuji’s location or well-being. You never called him because you knew how snarky he can be, so you always decided to text him. Naturally, he picked up quickly.

“Yuuji is getting his ass beat! Please, come!” You begged through the phone. That was enough for Sukuna to jump out of the couch and pick his car keys.

Yuuji was always in some kind of trouble. He wasn’t a bad boy, he was more of an avenger. He didn’t want to understand that bad guys just exist in our society without consequences. Yuuji always felt the need to do something about it. He was damn good at fighting, so he used that to give out justice. He usually never needs help kicking ass, but this time it was different.

Yuuji and you were hanging out in a park after classes as usual. Yuuji saw a group of evil guys kicking around a starving dog, so he had to do something about it. The pink fury rushed to punch every single one of them. The thing that Yuuji didn’t count on was that he was out numbered. It was a 5 vs. 1 fight, obviously he couldn’t take them all. You called Sukuna when you saw your friend struggling.

Sukuna drove to the location you sent him, and he saw red once he saw the scene. Yuuji and you were being kicked on the ground by the five guys. You were covering your head with your arms in fetal mode. Don’t worry, the poor dog escaped once he could. You tried to stop them a couple of times, but you were thrown back to the ground. Sukuna didn’t hesitate to jump in and starting knocking out high schoolers.

Sukuna spit on the pile of dipshits once he finished the job. “I hate dealing with kids” he groaned, even thought he is just a year older. Sukuna kneel by your side to help you stand up. You were covered in dirt, bruises, and shame. He kept asking you if everything move correctly as you stood up, holding you by under your elbows. Sukuna was still shaking in anger but tried to stay calm.

“What the fuck you were thinking?! You can’t just start fights for damn dogs like that!” Sukuna screamed at Yuuji once all of you got in the car.

“But they were kicking the poor doggy!” Yuuji screamed back. You were just staying still on the backseat.

“I don’t give a shit about the reason! Y/n’s safety is your priority every time you hang out! Fight whoever you want alone, but when she is around, no fighting! Do you hear me, little shit?” He asked, furious. Yuuji looked briefly at how hurt you ended up. He hates to admit it, but his big bro was right. He save a dog but put you in risk instead. Yuuji nodded in understanding and Sukuna started the engine.

Sukuna drove you to their house. After getting his bruises treated, Yuuji went straight to his room to sleep off the pain. You were left alone with Sukuna. This wasn’t the first time. When Sukuna was still a senior in high school, you used to hang out with both siblings often. Sometimes you ate at McDonald’s with both, other times you would just study with Yuuji alone, and a few times you would walk home with Sukuna.

Sukuna tapped the top of the kitchen counter so he could treat your bruises. You obeyed and let him do his thing. He asked you how you were doing in your senior year, and you asked him how he was doing at his job as a guard at a local club. It was a while since you two talked alone.

Maybe you were used to hanging out alone, but you weren’t used to feeling each other so close. Sukuna was in awe while rubbing your smooth and tender skin with the ointment. He never thought of feeling you in this way. It was a bummer that the first time touching you so tenderly was in a situation like this.

“Do you like Yuuji?” he asked boldly while rubbing ointment in your arm. You blushed upon the sudden question.

“Why would you ask that?” you asked, confused.

“I always wondered if you and Yuuji were just friends, you know, since you are always together” Sukuna asked without making eye contact with you. Not because he was focused on treating you, but because he was too afraid of your answer. You felt so good under his touch, he didn’t want to hear that your heart belong to his little brother.

“We are always together because he needs backup sometimes. We are just ride or die, like you and I” Sukuna paused for a second and looked up at you after hearing that statement.

“We are?” He smirked.

“Duh. I’m always there when you need me, and you are there for me” You explained. Sukuna grabbed some more ointment and rubbed a bruise on your thigh. He used the opportunity to knead your whole thigh with his big hand.

“For anything I need?” He asked in a seductive purr. Sukuna grabbed both of your thighs and slowly started to split them. You blushed after deducing what he wanted from you.

“Anything” You declared before taking a leap of faith. You took his face in your hands and kissed him. He felt like he was melting under your touch. He was a living fire, and you were the only one who could extinguish it.

We know Sukuna was crazy for you, but he didn’t want to admit it. He wasn't the only one, though. You were crazier for him. Yeah, you like to hang out with Yuuji, but you loved being alone with Sukuna. He was a player and a bad boy during high school, but you noticed he was nice only with you. He would buy you drinks out of nowhere, walk you home when Yuuji couldn’t and recommend you bands you might like. For the longest time, you thought that he only did those things because you were Yuuji’s best friend.

Now, that Sukuna was sticking his tongue inside your mouth while rubbing your pussy over your panties, you knew how liked you back. Maybe not for a serious relationship, but you didn’t give a damn right now. He made you feel so good, like no one has ever before.

Sukuna was drifting into madness every time your knee brushed past his pumping bulge. His dick just wanted to rip his pants so he could be felt by you. Sukuna pulled you closer by your thighs while devouring your lips desperately. You pushed yourself closer to him to wrap your arms around his neck and pushed your breast on his chest.

Sukuna pulled your underwear to the side to finger you good. You let out a moan but stopped once you remembered that Yuuji was on his room, and you were openly getting finger fucked in the kitchen by his older brother. Sukuna noticed that, and he challenged himself to make you moan his name out loud. You bit your lower lip to restrain yourself, but his long fingers reaching your deep end made it really difficult to do so.

“Fuck, you are so damn wet” he whispered on your ear while rubbing your wet clit in circles. You tried to close your thighs, but Sukuna made sure to keep them open for them.

“Sukuna, I want you in so bad” you moaned as low as you could. Sukuna didn’t need another queue to pull his cock out. It was big, a throbbing. Sukuna dreamed about this moment since Yuuji presented you. He couldn’t stop looking at your beautiful face, your plump thighs and adorable breasts.

He carefully put your panties to the side and stuck his dick inside of you. You both moan in a whisper once he slowly pushed all the way in. He started thrusting slowly to make sure to not hurt you more with all those bruises. He was moving slow but still passionate, making sure you could feel every inch of his thick cock.

Your toes curled every time Sukuna thrust in you. He felt better than you thought. You hide your face in the crook of his neck and bite his shoulder to stay quiet. “You are so fucking tight, bestie” he groaned under his breath.

His thrusts speed up once Sukuna made sure he wasn’t hurting you. He pulled your legs up so he could dig deeper in your insides. You covered your face with your arm and just take it like a big girl. “Oh Sukuna I can’t take it any longer” you whispered.

“I am about to cum too, baby” Sukuna grunted before orgasm at the same time. His thick milk swayed in your insides. You smacked his chest as a scold. “Sukuna, what the fuck!” you muffle.

“I’m sorry, it’s not my fault you felt so good” he smirked. After cleaning you and himself up, he drove to the closest pharmacy to buy Plan B.

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Masterlist.

[cosmicangel888]

WHO ARE YOU 

WHO ARE YOU 

'I am the galaxy

I am the multi-verse

I am the song of the heavens in all breath

I am the breath of the next breath and I seek the joy in all sacred life

I bring joy and happiness and I bring healing in such I am the bringer of life, joy and sacred remembrance ~ 

I am the bringer of wisdoms unknown, unseen,

I am the beyond and for a reason God is this story of unfolding for humanity 

I am Beyond religions that separate and judge

Beyond leaders that don't lead, and systems that rob and corrupt Beyond the denials, sick mistruths, and schemes to un-alive the innocent and sacred

Beyond the ailing oceans and dark air, 

I am the sun of the Heavens in daughter form  I am the daughter of light, God, Ra

I am the sun-child 

I know who I am 

Who are you?'

None write my story

None will spell cast me away

None will place me in jars and poke pins to the hundreds to make me not here

I will transmute, eat, and siphon it to a miracle meant just for me -

Did you hear me,

I am the galaxy and waves of life-light into the multi-verse -

I walk with Gods you cannot know, or see, I humble and to them - the One, the Creator, the Source Prime operator of all sacred life

This is life Never to be used, abused, and sent in false ego, and inner wounding - for then the heavens laugh at the ignorance and karma is piled on the karma not yet worked on from other lifetimes you tried the same old trick of dominance and power over another - silly children of silly antics of fear, pain, and suffering -

Sit in that pain and allow it

Sit in that unsureness and allow it

Sit in that unknowing and allow it

Sit in the anger and allow it

Sit in that 'not peace' and allow it

What occurs when you sit in what you feel and simply feel it

FEEL IT FEEL IT then what occurs -

YOU OPEN to life eternal beyond silly games and antics - but you have to appreciate all being silly, being immature, you sit in it and face it allow it, feel it and face it - 'boy I was just a little immature-that felt liberating, I can be immature and not get stuck there, and not stay there, and not live from there - and I am powerful I can live in new ways and new experiences and new energy -

I can do this - flow, transmute, and choose anew'

REALIGN - when you face it you can re-align to new

FACE WHO YOU ARE

STOP RUNNING

STOP PROJECTING

OWN IT

FACE IT

ALLOW IT TO FLOW and then you begin self mastery - this is ascension - master your emotions without your wounding becoming anothers - when you journal, do art, record, and make your expression of your feelings, emotions and experience - the ALL IS FOREVER HEALED It is not rocket science - however there are immense judgements and beliefs around this -

Why the masses are awakening now, and why the masters are here to help guide you;

Religion will teach you nothing about ascension, and the leaders are clueless of consciousness and our systems are backwards in trigger mode everytime the word 'spirit' is mentioned and you are blasphemed by those with just as little understanding of universal law and creational reality - it is what it is -

Exhausting for a starseed, celestial high functioning but that is part of my healing too -

I express, I share, I show, I heal and I transmute death magic like air - it feels like playing in a lush gorgeous divine playground everyone ignores where the children are ignored and played with like sex toys, humans are bought and sold and women are ignored and treated like sexual pornography items of dominance and pimping objects to own and claim -

Sometimes it needs to be just this blatant - for that is what is needed for those in fog-brain and arrogance - the disrespect to 1 woman, 1 divine feminine and masterful children treated like dirt and not there -

I will not sugar coat the arrogance and sickness of people like #trump and #epstein that so many in their superficial misdeeds and misguidance think they are the cats meow - you certainly are not and I am here to pierce what you think is 'fooling the collective' and I will rise to show what is truth and what is pure abuse - it cannot be healed until we FACE what is - poor leaders, poor counsellors that are not aligned, no idea what consciousness is, and leaders that are 95% white men; how is this a system of fair and just returns and wisdoms - who are you?

How does it feel to be me, to be a crystal, or rainbow child, any child, ...Where the playground is filled with narcistic bullies that use magic and deceit, emotional and spiritual manipulation like is breath - this is how it feels to be me and why I have to work and master and transmute 100% more than any other person to feel grounded and 1/2 normally me - judge me, you have no idea -

I am you in grand form to feel it all and show you how to heal - this is me, all need to get over it - I will not go away and I will not stand down to lesser 3D immature false leaders and false elite rich arrogance that think they know what God is; and tout falseness to those that truly need pure guidance and healing - ©

To false spiritualists that have no clue about alignment and abuse their power, and abuse energy - and abuse what gifts are sacred -

Divine is the breath within to transmute all that is not feeling divine Divine is the breath that transmutes the thought of your own family and those you use to call friends doing 'death magic on you' to work out inheritance and money that they cannot seem to let go of the fact they are not the 'winner' to teach, to bring peace, and truth; because they think it is theirs and how dare a woman be smarter and wiser, and the chosen of the pack -

how dare a woman re-write the potentials of old bibles that were 1 perspective from a 3D level and from the mouth of only men, and elite of the 5% that have nothing to do with unity, grace and love - How dare a woman.

Well - I am here boys, buckle up, because this is a big girls world now and I will not silence -

human testing I will magnify my life-light and pierce every intention, lie, and corruption - the more any come into my lane the more the light will bathe every evil to every innocent - - blocks, diminishing abundance, and illness and whatever karma Spirit ignites within every person guilty of harming and degrading the divine and my life; I walk - the Heavens walk with me.

I know who I am Who are you?

Galactic beings of greatness lift my feet and weight, and ride the sacredness of every child that cries and no one listens to the pulling and pushing into their sacred bodies because human adults are too lazy and too wounded to seek help so they impale innocent children and use them as sex slaves while they corrupt the soul of our collective for their sickened ways - that is healable - while a child cries I hear it, I see it, I see behind the hidden meetings and doors you think you can scheme behind - your torture is nothing to me - -

I am the sun

I am the daughter of Ra

I am RA

I am the daughter of God ~

I know who I am

Who are you?

So while the sick rich little groups that seek their next spell or torture voodoo or spy bot on me, the next bait you think you want to send in to trick me - why don't you sit and think, just think how it feels to be me for 1 hour -

To feel everything and then face it again, again, again, in utter boredom that the same message is simply not heard because the chakras and minds hearts are so dense with wounding and hate they do not care about children being used as sex toys nor sold by the time they are 8 -

I feel their pain suffering as they sit in their beds crying before their next act to an adult that KNOWS BETTER

And the adults simply refuse to heal - and leaders continue being stupid and pushing chemicals and antics of controls into every facet of our reality - to make humanity sick numb and dumb - how does it feel to be me for 1 hour -

Why does every single person, the imprints in our fields of energy, schools, teachings for eons, all gods are men, the goddess's and after thought, the writers of all books, the expectations of great leaders - when will the collective see as a woman? ©

Why are platforms suppressed by those that know our strength power and wisdoms - the battles we fight that most are a part of and cannot take ownership in the discrimination of how 80% of our collective voice is simply not heard, nor valued - who are you?

I know who I am

Why you must be alone and seek within - no partner, or person can teach you what knowing yourself and being this offers you -

who are you - are you serving the collective?

these are the questions of ascension - for it is about self sovereignty and unity / all you are affects the all - period.

I will transmute whatever any send and human testing -

I get an A+ NEXT.

I know who I am Who are you - do the inner work and see how creation shifts

This is my word

Blessings and light

Joanna ©

For private sessions, webinars, classes or consulting ~

Email me at

JoannaCosmicAngel@yahoo.com

DONATIONs; PayPal link here; paypal.me/JoannaLRoss

My Book #1 ~ 5th Dimensional Consciousness

My work, books, content, sessions only to be given by me of me, and video for authentication - none speak for me, none write for me, and none choose for me ~

My work and my offerings, has not received 1 penny of donation, or work stolen and called another's - all know who they are #calgary #falseprophets, and the corrupt officials and those in law, banking, policing all will be shown for the part they played in denying me my human, spiritual rights - what occurs in the ethers is rolling out now to the new earth -

©

[australieh]

Good afternoon from Perth! My Aussie home base. I am back here after three months working in the Kimberley; the wild untouched lands of northwest Australia. It is a 3.5 hour plane ride north of here and yet somehow still in the same state. 

I arrived here much different than I left. Shins scratched up, split ends, a cavity that needs to be filled. Red dirt in my nose and my lungs. I am 3 pairs of shoes poorer; one lost to mould, one worn out from walking through spinifex and pandanus, and the other with souls so thinned by the rock I didn’t bother wasting space in my bag for them. I left my towel, stained by red dirt and grass, hanging on the communal clothes line, and I donated my worn out SkipBo cards to the staff games pile. My sunglasses are at the bottom of the Chamberlain Gorge, no doubt sitting there with a hundred other pairs. 

What I did fit in my bag were polaroids from sunset drives, swimsuits that still smelled like the Pentecost River, and a pair of blue jeans that will never be clean again. A new beer coozy made it in there, and a card from the girls saying how much they’ll miss me. A crocheted Mario Kart mushroom, a decorated envelope with gift cards inside, and a sketchbook full of crocodile paintings. Even my phone has a crack in the screen from dropping it on the broken-up sandstone they call a road, while we drove up a ridge to a lookout point. The speaker on it isn’t the same, either, but there are hundreds of photos on it to remind me where the dirt in the charging port came from. 

The other thing that’s different is my heart. When I got to Australia I was afraid of opening it up. My recent years in Canmore and Calgary held a lot of love but also a lot of hurt, and it felt scary to move to a new place and meet new people who I’d inevitably have to leave again. The last 4-5 years of my life has been so full of exploration and travel and new people, which is beautiful and exciting but also sometimes so sad. Nobody ever talks about the part of travelling which is the feeling of constantly missing people. Over and over again meeting gorgeous people and then saying goodbye to them. It’s hard on the heart. 

El Questro forced me to open up again. There is only so much living and working and eating together you can do before you fall in love with the people around you. Our little staff village became a community so quickly, and parts of it felt like family. The girls at reception were my sisters by the end, reminding me I need to eat before I get hangry and teasing me about my bedhead. We bickered and hugged and laughed like family, and without even realizing it I was loving fearlessly again. Staying at dinner to chat instead of taking food to my room, singing loudly to music while we dance around the fire, painting with friends rather than by myself. Those were the bigger things but in the smaller things, opening your heart helps you notice the beauty that this silly little world is absolutely riddled with. The wind rattling leaves off of the batwing trees, ants carrying small snacks over branches, the way the moon changes paths every night. You notice how every evening exactly 10 minutes before the sun sets, the Corellas take flight and squawk so loudly you’d think they are announcing the end of another day. Looking around in a group of people you really actually care for so much, it becomes so un-scary to love that you can’t believe you were ever stupid enough to close off your heart. 

[oooohno]

thought of you and now here we are, hope you enjoy~

I let out a soft sigh as I finally managed to dig out a large weed from the ground, the one that has been disrupting the flow of the spring’s garden before me; the one taking all the water and nutrients away from the small butterfly bush that is trying desperately to grow. I throw the weeds into the small pile I have been collecting before looking over at you, wondering how far along you have gotten since you decided to join me and help.

My shoulders slump when I notice your idle hands hovering just above your lap, not even a speck of dirt on them making it clear you hadn’t even begun to dig or pull anything from the earth. Instead using your time to spy on the traveling Hashira that have come to visit the village, a few of which now taking residence within the hot springs to ease their aching muscles – and to my knowledge, from what I can assume from your behaviour, they chose a bath near where we are gardening.

“Are you even going to garden?” I asked, pushing the brim of my hat up slightly to wipe the sweat forming upon my brow “Or are you just going to continue to stare?”

This startled you out of your trance, I watch as jolt in surprise before your hands move towards the ground before you, doing your best to appear as if you were working as you begin to locate some of the offending weeds I wish to get rid of.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” You mumbled, voice quiet as you tried to hide you flushed face from me; clearly embarrassed.

“Right,” I chuckle, hands moving within the earth once more to move around the soil so everything looks even and neat “Though I am curious who has garnered your attention”

“No one…” You uttered once more, causing me to sigh out again, nudging your side to get your to say it, to which you relent with your own little sigh “It appears that both the Wind Hashira and the Flame one are in the springs.”

At mention of the Flame Hashira my body perks up, sitting more upright I lean closer to you, closer to where the potential opening within the flora is to take a peek. I hear your giggle, finding my reaction cute to which I cannot help but join in. We pause as we lean into each other to laugh at the circumstance we are in, after a moment I can see your lips form a smirk.

“So, you like the Flame Hashira?” the teasing lilt to your tone makes my face flush as I duck my head down, pulling my hat back over to cover my face.

“…perhaps a little” I admit, feeling the corners of my mouth lift into a small smile.

Patchy this is gorgeous! Thank you so much for writing & sharing this with me! 🥺 also how can your characterization of me be so spot on? I would for sure zone out while being an absolute perv & forget to do the actual work LMAO. Also I’m not a writer but I couldn’t help add to it. I hope that’s okay - tell me if not & I’ll delete it <3

I can clearly see that you are trying to hide your flushed face behind your big hat from my prying eyes. But instead of concealing your true feelings this habit of yours only confirms my growing suspicion. “Perhaps a little? The color of your cheeks could rival your beloved cherries”, I try to contain my giggles but fail when I see your petulant expression peeking out from under the brim of your hat. Your playful shove only adds to my amusement and so does your mumbled “I knew your offer to help me was too good to be true.” Before I dig my hands into the dirt I make a mental note to mention your harvest plans to the fiery hashira next time I see him. He would never let such a delicious opportunity pass by if it includes offering his help to you. And if he’s lucky and plays his cards right maybe the fruity treats are not the only thing ready to sweeten his day 💗

[casspurrjoybell-19]

My Feral Mate

*Warning: Adult Content*  

 Chapter 6 - Part 2 - Echo     

"Knock, knock," a delicate voice sounded from my door and as I dared a peek out of my little cocoon of despair and over my shoulder, the sight of Dad's typical, unruly pile of black curls and bright green eyes stared back at me, peeking through a small crack in my door. 

"May I please come in, sweetheart?" 

My initial reaction was to say no, to shun any and everyone until I could breathe without feeling like there was fire licking away at my lungs but the longer I stared, the more my resolve lowered and before I knew it, I was nodding my head at him before settling back down to where I'd gotten comfortable, with my back toward and staring out of the window. As Dad settled on the edge of my bed, the mattress gently sank under his weight. He carefully placed a steaming mug of what I instantly scented as chamomile tea on a knitted coaster resting on my bedside table. Then, I felt his long fingers brushing tenderly against my scalp as they gently sifted through the tangled mess that was my hair. 

"I brought you tea," Dad started, his voice was tranquil and soft, as if he were speaking to a skittish animal. 

"And..." he paused, taking a moment to set something... heavenly in front of my nose. 

"This." 

Without even thinking, a loud cry escaped my throat as I pushed my pillow away, instead using both hands to press my face into the wondrous fabric, sobs steadily ripping their way forth as I inhaled lungful after lungful of the most delicious scent to ever exist in any and all universes. Nearly instantly, the endless, scorching heat in my lungs dissipated, falling away as if it were never even there in the first place. I probably looked pretty insane, laying there as I frantically sucked air through the fabric, curling my body around this one, simple item that had suddenly become the center of my universe but even so, all that Dad did was massage my hair, using his nimble fingers to work out the knots that had formed over the last twenty-four hours. 

"I asked Benji to take it into the operating room and rub it against as many of your mate's scent glands that were accessible right now," he began explaining after a few beats of allowing me to indulge in my newfound addiction. 

"Being half Omega myself, I know how much your Papa's scent soothes me when I'm feeling down. So I figured... maybe you'd feel the same about your mate." 

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, taking another pull from the shirt. Dad had definitely figured right and now that his scent was no longer tainted by all of that blood and dirt and my mind was easing its way out of the immediate shock phase, I could clearly make out all of the olfactory notes that I'd missed before, each one teasing my senses, popping like fireworks behind my eyelids and spreading a warm blanket across my tongue. The first note I picked up on was smoke, like the dancing embers of a campfire when they fizzle out in the wind and get caught in your nose and closely behind it lay the scent of raw earth, one that reminded me of my favorite scent since childhood, that distinctly gorgeous smell that emanates from the plants, the topsoil and the trees only moments after it rains, soaking the world with a newfound vibrancy and a profound hope of new life. I could only imagine what it would be like to take in my mate's scent directly from the source but right now, I was grateful for anything that would help ease the rib-crushing ache in my chest. 

"The surgeries are going well so far. Your Papa is downstairs keeping an eye on things," Dad said softly. 

Relief washed over me at the news but the weight of uncertainty still loomed heavily. As the silence lingered and my breaths grew deeper, Dad sighed and continued with a comforting tone.

"I know your Papa's initial reaction to this whole situation was less than ideal and I can't promise that he will fully embrace it until he knows more about your mate's background and how he ended up in this condition. But deep down, I know that your Papa truly does want you to be with your mate. He's been through the pain of mate separation before, and he understands how agonizing that it can be," pausing thoughtfully, Dad carefully chose his words.

"But right now, he's just scared. Sometimes fear makes people react in ways they don't truly mean." 

Dad's hand continued to move gently, sifting through my hair, soothing me with his warm touch. 

"But regardless, I want you to know that feeling every ounce of your emotions is okay. In fact, it's sometimes vital to experience fear, grief, or any and all of those difficult feelings, because shows that we're alive, that we love, and that we're growing as people in this complicated, fucked up world," Dad's voice was full of empathy and understanding, and his words resonated deep. 

"So always remember, no matter what it is about, you can talk to me, sweetheart. I'm here for you, no matter the time or circumstance. You don't have to carry this alone." 

Dad's vulnerable words resonated somewhere in my heart, bouncing around and latching onto the flesh there and then, I was flipping around, latching my arms around my Dad's middle so hard that for a second there, I thought I might just cut him in half. The dam broke for real this time and as I sobbed endlessly into his stomach, soaking his shirt through, Dad did nothing but rub my back slowly, holding the back of my head as he pressed kisses to the top of it. 

"I'm really sorry for shoving you," the whispered words came out muffled as the need to make things right with him overwhelmed me. 

"It's just... I couldn't control it. It's like the love just goes right through me, from my head to your toes. It's terrifying and painful and overwhelming and I'm so scared, Dad. I don't know how to cope with the possibility of losing him. It's like I'll never be myself again." 

"Oh, Koko," he trailed off, a single tear overflowing from the corner of his eye as he tilted his head at a slight angle to look down at me. 

"You love fiercely and that's a beautiful thing. Don't feel bad, alright, sweetie? I'm just fine. If it were your Papa they were wheeling into that infirmary room, I would have done the exact same thing," he said, kissing the top of my head once more. 

"You wanna know a secret? Parents don't have all the answers either. Hell, I was scared out of my mind when I first found out your Papa and I were gonna have a kid but I still like to think that I did a halfway decent job raising you crazy ass rascals," he said, poking my side and I had to resist the urge to crack another one of my grimace-smiles. 

"Unfortunately, life doesn't come with an instruction manual," he continued. 

"Sometimes, we just have to ride the waves as they come and try to make the best of all of the fucked up situations we are challenged with. Because honestly, sometimes, that's truly what life is, completely and utterly fucked up," he admitted with a slight choked-up quiver to his words. 

"But through it all, just know that I love you so much more than you could ever even imagine. And no matter what, I am always, always, on your team." 

I glanced up at him then and his tender eyes met mine, glistening with emotion and distinct wetness. My words came out soggy and cracked but true nonetheless. 

"I love you so much, too, Dad," I rasped, my arms somehow tightening even more around his middle as I tried to put all of my emotion into that one embrace. 

"I love you forever." 

"And I love you always." 

Cupping my cheeks between his warm hands, Dad hunched his shoulders down a little, pressing a kiss to my forehead before smiling down at me. 

"Now, would you like for me to give you a heads-up when the dinner I ordered gets here or would you rather just get some rest right now?" 

"I'm just gonna rest I think." 

Finally releasing him from my grip in favor of pressing the fabric impregnated with my mate's scent back into my face, I added.

"But... will you please let me know if you hear anything about him?" 

"Of course, no problem, honey. And try to have some tea if you can, alright?" 

Dad's smile brightened as he stood up but despite the fact that I'd just poured my entire heart out, I could only manage a nod in response. 

"Should I leave your door open, closed, or locked?" Dad asked as he reached the doorway. 

"Closed," I whispered back. With a blown kiss, Dad fulfilled my request and left me to myself and as I clutched that soothing, smoke-and-earth-scented fabric back against my nose, an overwhelming sense of serenity engulfed me and through all of the pain, a sliver of tranquility beckoned, my mind turning quiet until I finally, finally, drifted off into a peaceful, undisturbed sleep.

[murdockdevil-goooonnne]

work in progress: heart of glass type of writing: drabble who: sidney ahmed & iah elijah / mentions evie faraday genre: the supernatural triggers: mentions slight pain. notes: sidney just went through her full moon transformation. idk if it makes sense but oh well posting, hell yeaaah!

Sid’s aching all over. Almost like she’s gotten beat up in an all-women’s fight club or something. And while there is a rule between her and Iah and Evie, where she’s promised not to bring up to others what she goes through once a month, she sometimes feels like things would be easier if she was actually involved in an all-women’s fight club, instead of transforming into a werewolf. Mostly because, all the werewolf rubbish is a little too much for her, even when it is a once-a-month event.  

Evie says she’s lucky that she only has to deal with the werewolf thing once a month. Because Evie has to deal with being a vampire full-time. Yet, the thing is, Sid does has to deal with being a werewolf daily. Just not the turning bits that everyone assumes.

Because she does have that extra added bit of scent. Then she does hear a little more than everyone else. And, uhm, of course, her appetite is through the roof.

There are also a few more things, like her obsession with the moon, but she just thinks that’s just her obsession with it because she wants to cling to something she’s liked since from before she was scratched. But who really knows?

All she knows is Evie doesn’t really know shite about werewolves, does she? Since, all those years of living, and she’s hated werewolves. The only reason she cares about them now, is she liked her before she got turned. Sooo, of course, now she’s going to like them. And of course, she’s going to want to help her. 

But it just sucks, knowing her friend, deep down probably doesn’t like her. Yet, then again, Evie’s a bit dense — probably doesn’t dislike anyone once she decides she likes them.

This leads Sid to shake that off as she walks through the street in a ripped shirt and some ripped slacks, and a towel covering her bottom half as her hair stays piled over her head. 

“What’s up gorgeous lady? Going my way?” Iah asks her as he drives by, after rolling down his window.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t believe so, Mr.” She jokes, putting on an American accent. “Don’t even know where your way even is.” She then smiles a little, before using her posh accent. “Thanks for showing up early though. I hate waiting. It’s always embarrassing walking around half-naked if I’m covered up in dirt, that I didn’t willingly put myself in. Fucking wolf shenanigans…” She mumbles before getting in the car. 

“Well, you look fine.”

“Fine’s not cute, Iah,” Sidney corrects.

Iah rolls his eyes and waves side to side before driving off. “You should consider changing in my basement. I had a friend who used to change there.”

“That’s very Wuthering Heights. My response to that is no.” Iah chuckles at that, and then they listen to some music and drive to his place in silence. Sidney pouting and him thinking of what the hell could be going through her head.

[curlinproducts]

How Often Should You Shampoo Your Curls?

Whether you have just started your curl care journey or have been practising for years, how often to shampoo your curls is the most puzzling decision.

Besides, the gazillion opinions of your curly friends pile on the criteria you should consider.

But deciding how often to shampoo your curls doesn’t have to be perplexing! One thing to understand before we dig deeper is each curly head has different requirements and lifestyles. There is no one regime that fits everybody.

A little trial and error is the secret to finding the answer to this question. Let’s discuss the different factors that should determine the right shampoo frequency for your curls.

Determining  Shampoo Frequency for Curls

You might have found the best shampoo for Indian curly hair, but there’s more to caring for them. Shampooing your hair in lengthy intervals or even shampooing it too often can harm your curls. Consider the below factors to figure out how often you should shampoo curls:

Wash Whenever They Feel Dirty

Does your curl feel itchy after a workout session? Or do they sometimes smell a little funky after a couple of days? Whatever the reason, if you feel your curls are feeling greasy, dirty, and smelly, you should go ahead and shampoo them.

On the other hand, if you spend most of your time travelling or working outdoors, you might need to shampoo your curls more often than usual. Your curls might also require a change in shampoo schedules with changing seasons.

In a nutshell, if they feel dirty and if your lifestyle calls for a more frequent shampoo schedule, go ahead with it!

Shampoo to Remove Buildup

You need to understand that buildup is not necessarily dirt. The buildup also occurs due to the use of products.

Toxic products or sulphate and paraben products lead to buildup and cause extreme harm to your hair.

Also, if your regime consists of several products, your curls will be prone to buildup. Oils, serums, creams, etc., can lead to buildup on your curls. It would help if you considered a shampoo schedule that keeps your hair buildup-free.

Try Out Different Wash Schedules

As we mentioned earlier, the answer to “how often should I shampoo my curls?” lies in trial and error. Whether you should shampoo your curls once every week or once a month, you will only know once you dip your toes in the water.

Switch your shampoo schedule to a week and a half or two weeks if washing your curls weekly feels like overdrying. Please do not stick to a regimen because it is highly recommended on the internet but because it keeps your curls healthy. Also, note that sulphate-free products tend to keep your hair fresh for longer.

Closing Thoughts

We hope this article helped you figure out the proper shampoo schedule for your gorgeous curls. Curls are unique and thus require a unique routine and pampering. However, once you figure out the right shampoo frequency, curl care will feel less frenzy and more fun! You can