#=you are filling a bucket with water and the bucket has holes in it. like you get that right

[strang3lov3]

Jet Stream

Joel has his fun with you after learning his shower head has a jet stream setting.

Part two of my miniseries for @noxturnalpascal Can be read as standalone but check out the first part Lather ! Thank you @merz-8 @noxturnalpascal and @tightjeansjavi for all their brainstorming on this fic!

tags-soft dom!joel, maybe not so soft dom! joel, overstimulation station, pet name (good girl, sweetheart, honey, darling) crying, fingering, multiple orgasms both clitoral and vaginal, smoochin’, praise, blowjobs, snuggles

notes- thank you for your patience with me! Hope you’re all having a lovely start to your February, please harass me and spank me to get part 3 and my Valentine’s Day one shot out by next week ❤️💖

Kindly edited by @papipascalispunk ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

Joel wakes up early, even on Saturdays. Taking advantage of the little pleasures in life, he watches squirrels and chipmunks run up and down the trees in his backyard, listening to the birds chirp while the sun rises. When the sun rises, he’ll take his morning shower and sigh in relaxation under the hot water. Let it wash over him for a little too long before he scrubs his body. 

But not this Saturday. Today, that steady pelting of water on his back and chest feels like a trickle compared to what it’s usually like. Joel’s been noticing this for a while, maybe you have too. He stands in the shower, annoyed at the glacial pace of the suds sliding off his body. After what feels like an eternity passes, he shuts off the water and examines the shower head closely. Yeah, that’ll do it, he thinks. Limescale. It’s built up around the shower head, into all the grooves. This commonly happens when hard water runs through a house. It’s an easy fix. 

Joel unscrews the shower head from its fixture then dries off. He goes downstairs and grabs a bucket and a jug of vinegar from his cleaning supply closet. He soaks the shower head in the vinegar-filled bucket for about an hour before taking the shower head out, using an old toothbrush to scrub the grooves and holes in the shower head. Joel hears a creak upstairs and quickens his scrubbing, he doesn’t need you coming downstairs and scolding him for over-exerting himself. Yeah, yeah – he should be asking you for your help and all that, but you’re too pretty for a chore like this, he thinks. Besides, his shoulder is getting better. Not quite as tender as it was a week ago. As Joel wraps up the finishing touches of cleaning the shower head, he notices some etched words that were previously covered by the limescale – Rain, Shower, Jet Stream.

Well, would ya look at that. A mischievous grin forms on Joel’s lips. His brain has been fucking addled thinking about you. You, and the way you came on your own fingers, whimpering his name. How after, you pushed your fingers past his lips, how sweet your arousal tasted on his tongue. How he’s been yearning to touch you, fuck you, but his stupid goddamn shoulder is still hurting. Hurting, but healing nonetheless. God, is he addled. But now, with this nifty little jet stream setting, he can have you melting in his hands in no time. It can do all the work for him, leaving his shoulder unharmed and without disruption to its healing process. He wonders, how many times will he make you come?

–

The day goes by as normal. It’s evening, Ellie’s not home. You’re on the couch with Joel after eating pasta for dinner. You’re knitting a blanket using mismatched yarn, just trying to find some use for the odds and ends. Joel’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch and bouncing his leg, twiddling his fingers. He looks bored, anxious. Seinfeld is on TV, Joel loves this show. He rented the series DVDs from the library in Jackson and claimed to have scratched them when they were past due. “Joel, quit,” you scold him. He’s bouncing the couch. 

“My bad,” Joel says. You can feel him staring at you. He’s touching his hair. You turn your face to look at him, raising your eyebrows expectantly. Joel wears an anticipatory look, but stays quiet. You turn your attention back to the TV and he’s now combing his fingers through his hair, sighing loudly. “Hmmm…” he hums, “What’s a guy to do…”

You drop your knitting needles in your lap. “What, Joel?”

“Oh, nothin’,” he says. Joel kind of just gestures to his hair and shrugs, like you’re supposed to know what he’s asking for. You do, of course, but he can use his words. “Ahem,” Joel clears his throat, now twirling a finger around one of his curls cheekily, making a real big show out of it. He’s smiling now.  

“Do you need me to wash your hair again, Joel?”

“If you’d be so kind, darlin’,” he grins. 

You finish the row you’re currently knitting before wrapping up your work and putting it into a basket and under the end table next to the couch. After pausing the TV, you stand up and Joel outstretches his left hand to you, which you take in your own. He groans loudly as you pull him to his feet where he stands in front of you. There’s something about him today. When you washed his hair last week, he was bashful and awkward. Today, he’s confident with his sly grin, that teasing look in his eye like he’s working an angle. Maybe he’s just excited for another shower blow job, which you’ll happily provide again. You smile too, he’ll be 0 for 2. 

When you and Joel arrive at the bathroom, he locks the door just like last time. He’s unbuttoning his jeans, not bothering to hide the bulge in his boxers. You don’t bother with the formalities of your partnered shower as you and Joel undress yourselves. It’s unnecessary at this point, after the fortuitous, amatory events of your last one. Joel notices your smirk before he turns on the hot water. He can tell you think you’re gonna pull one over on him again. That’s fine, you can believe whatever you’d like.

Joel opens the shower curtain. “After you,” he purrs, offering his hand to you as you step into the tub. You stand underneath the stream of water, wetting your hair and letting the hot water warm your skin. It feels stronger today for some reason. “Pressure’s different,” you tell Joel. 

“Is it now?” Joel asks, feigning ignorance as he joins you in the tub, cock already half mast. You step closer to him, reaching for it, feeling him grow harder in your hand. Massaging his cock, tracing your fingertips around his thick head and along the veins of his shaft, you bite down on your smile. “Yeah, that’s nice, trouble,” he sighs in pleasure, “Aren’t you something?” 

“Feel good, Joel?” you murmur. 

“Mhm,” Joel hums, “Feels just wonderful, sweetheart. You’re too good t’me.” 

Shampoo and conditioner can wait. You take the time to massage his cock a while longer as you wrap your free hand around Joel’s neck, toying with the curls at the back of his head. They’re not quite wet yet as you’ve been hogging all the hot water, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He lets you stroke his member as he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning in to kiss you softly. As you deepen the kiss, gently biting his plump bottom lip, Joel pulls away, removing your hand from his member.

“You done yet?” he asks you. 

You’re almost offended. Asshole. You were enjoying that kiss. “Not quite,” you reply, leaning forward to kiss him, touch him some more. 

Joel pulls away from you as he blocks your hand. He grips your wrist  and holds it behind your back as he spins you around, your back now facing him. “Well you’re gonna have to be,” he says. “The lady’s ’sposed to come first. That’s how we’re doing things from now on.”

“Yeah, right Joel. You can’t touch me, your shoulder is still fucked up.” you squirm away from him, but he keeps his hold on you. Gentle, firm. 

“Worry about yourself,” he warns in a tone much less teasing than before. He winces as he uses his bad arm to reach for the shower head, “Y’think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

“I…” you trail off as he hovers the shower head above your torso, peering over your shoulder as he watches the water fall down your curves. He hums softly as he focuses the stream over your breasts, feeling you begin to twitch as the water teases your nipples. 

“My shoulder is healing, actually. But yeah, it is still a little fucked up,” Joel continues, “Don’t need to touch ya anyhow.”

Ohh, you’re getting it now. Joel thinks he cracked the code. “I appreciate the thought, Joel,” you chuckle. “But if you’re planning on using the shower head to make me come, just go ahead and put it back where it belongs. I’ve tried that already.”

“Figures,” he teases. “You wanna know somethin’?”

“What’s that, Joel?”

“Water pressure on this thing sucked lately, so I was cleanin’ this thing out this morning,” he begins. He keeps your arm behind your back as he sits both you and himself down on the shower bench, keeping your back pressed firmly against his torso. “Does this hurt?” he whispers before continuing. You shake your head no. “Good,” Joel says. “Anyway, wouldn’t ya know it, there’s a jet stream setting on this thing.” Joel nudges a foot between your legs and taps you. “Open ‘em. You stay like this for me.”

He’s speaking with such authority, such a commanding tone. You’re almost nervous. You could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice last week just how severely you pissed him off with the way you touched yourself in front of him, knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. How you further taunted him when you pushed your fingers past his lips, dangling the premise of tasting your sweet cunt over his head. You should have known he’d retaliate.

“Was not a fan of how you got yourself off without me, pretty rudely, might I add. Told you I wanted to help, you fuckin’ deviant.”

Yup, you’re correct. He’s still fucking pissed. He did a good job keeping a lid on it until now. “Joel,” you breathe. 

“So yes, you’re right. I can’t touch ya yet,” he continues in a low voice, “S’why we’re gonna see what this does to ya, sweetheart.”

Joel keeps the shower head on the rain setting for this part. With his free hand, he cups the back of your knee and has you set your foot on the bench where you and Joel sit. This way, you’re nice and open for him to do as he pleases. He brings the shower head lower, hovering it over your torso, down your tummy, then your pussy. It’s a nice sensation, warm and gentle. When you lean your head back on his shoulder and sigh softly, he ups the ante. Momentarily, he futzes with the showerhead and switches it to the jet stream setting before bringing it back to your center. He starts the stream at your inner thighs first, working his way inward until the stream is massaging your lips, first one side and then the other. Slowly, he twists his wrist, getting your pussy used to the new sensation. He can’t see much from this angle, can’t feel anything either. He’s waiting for you to jolt and moan to know when he’s struck gold. “Shhh…” Joel quiets you when you do just that. “Oh yeah, this’ll do just fine, hm?”

Fuck, it’s intense. It’s very intense, almost too much. “Joel, fuck,” you cry. You should not have fucked with him. 

“Just relax,” he instructs, “You’ll get used to it.” But you’re not getting used to it, not even close. It’s a powerful, nearly electric sort of feeling that takes you wholly as you jerk and stutter in his hold. “Mm-mm, you stay here. Quit your squirmin’.”

“S’too much Joel,” you whine. 

“S’kinda the point,” he mumbles, “But you’re doin’ good, sweetheart. Jus’ let it happen.”

Joel rotates his wrist, directing the stream of water in tight, steady circles on your clit. The striking, uncomfortable and intense feeling is beginning to dissipate as your pleasure begins to build. Joel’s hot breath is on your neck, his torso rising and falling steadily. You can feel his warm, stiff package pressing against your lower back. “Joel, it feels so good,” you breathe. “Please don’t stop.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t dream of that,” he replies.  The movement of Joel’s wrists never falters, though he knows it’ll be sore in the morning. You move your hips in tune with his movement, eyes squeezed shut and moaning quietly, your open mouth pressed against his neck. He wonders if maybe you haven’t quite realized the circumstance you’re in, what he plans to do to you. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart,” he mumbles, wearing a smug grin.

Joel lets go of his hold on your leg to touch your breasts with his free hand, kneading your flesh. When he teases your nipples, the sensation of it all is heightened. Within moments, you’ve reached your peak. It’s intense and the feeling lasts long as Joel, with the help of the shower head, helps you ride out your high. Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath as he points the shower head at the floor, letting you relax against him. After a minute passes, you try to lean forward to get up, but Joel stops you by wrapping his strong arm around your torso and keeping you pressed tightly against him. “Ohh, you’re not goin’ anywhere. We’re not done yet,” he coos as he kisses your cheek, your temple. 

“I know, but it’s your turn.”

“Oh, not quite. We’re way past turns and bein’ square and even and all that,” he says. “Yeah, that went out the door with that little stunt you pulled on me last week. So let me spell it out for you, darlin’, I am not finished with you.”

“Joel, what are you–” Joel cuts you off by bringing the shower head back to your pussy. Reaching out for something, anything, your hand finds purchase in his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls as you tug gently. “Joel, fuck,” you pant. 

“Not goin’ easy on ya,” he warns. “S’that alright?” Your heart swells. Always the gentleman, Joel is. You nod against his cheek. “Then you stay just like this for me,” he instructs, whispering quietly against the shell of your ear, “Just like this. That’s all ya gotta do, s’real easy.” He tells you this like he’s giving you a choice, but subtly, he places his hand his back on your knee, keeping your cunt exposed to him for his use. Then Joel, realizing he has a better idea, gently pushes your leg off the bench. Potentially against his better judgment, he takes your own free hand and places it on your knee. “Be a good girl,” he murmurs, trusting you with this privilege perhaps too early in tonight’s endeavor. But he knows you, you’ve always been all bark and no bite – he’s not worried about you. Not a bit. 

“I’ll be good, Joel,” you whimper, eager to make this easier on yourself. You’ve never felt a sensation this intense before, and you know to tread carefully with Joel. Especially given what led you to this mess you’re in with him. 

Joel smirks, he’s right as always. Already you’re so docile, so well-behaved, so pliant. 

He finds your clit with the fingers of his left hand to help him with the shower head in his right hand. After finding that sweet little bundle of nerves with the jet stream, Joel traces along your lips momentarily before pushing a finger inside your warm, wet pussy. “Joel, oh my god,” your right hand leaves its place in his hair and you reach for his bicep instead, not exactly sure what your goal is here. You just need Joel’s comfort, to touch him, feel him, hold onto him for dear life as he delivers you deep and powerful pleasure just moments previously unknown to you. 

“I know sweetheart. Can’t do anything about it, huh?” he taunts, pushing in another finger. He curls them slowly, savoring the feeling of your wet heat pulsing around his knuckles. “Y’look very beautiful like this, ya know.” Joel quickens the pace of his fingers. You moan as you beg him for mercy of some sort as he fucks you on his fingers, while torturing your poor, overworked clit with that shower head. It’s sensual, satisfying, and nearly painful all at once. “Doin’ so good. I know you’ve got another one in ya.”

“I don’t know, Joel, I’m– I’m–”

“Take it easy. Focus right here,” he says, curling his fingers faster now. You’re a mess of panting and whimpering as Joel works his magic, stroking that sweet spot inside of you he made short work of finding. You’re soaking his fingers with your arousal as he touches you, a second orgasm washing over you quickly.

You’re panting, heart pounding as you try to come down from your high. “Please,” you breathe heavily, “Please Joel, I– oh–”

“Not quite sure what all that beggin’s for, sweetheart. Told ya what you were in for tonight,” Joel whispers in a honeyed voice. “You got one more, though.”

No way. It’s not possible. This is too much, you’re certain you’ll be satisfied for an eternity after this. “Joel, I don’t think I can,” you cry, hot and salty tears of overstimulation rolling down your cheeks. “I don’t–”

Joel interrupts you. “Yes, you can,” he says. Joel pulls his fingers and the shower head away from your pussy, giving you another moment to breathe. You’re still breathing heavily, shaking and trembling slightly. Poor thing, not used to all of this. It’s a lot on you and Joel knows this. “I’m right here, I got you,” he coos. He adjusts the way he’s holding you for a moment to look at your face, wipe away your tears. His brow furrows as he searches your face, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your jaw. “Breathe, baby. S’okay. Ain’t gonna break.” 

You nod, stutter out some incoherent response. Joel’s eyes are warm and soft as he calms you, kissing your lips and your nose. 

“What do you think?” he asks, “Reckon you got another one in ya. Just one more, hmm?”

“Okay,” you agree with a small smile. “Okay.” 

“Attagirl,” Joel praises. He brings the showerhead back to the space between your thighs but you catch his wrist, pulling it away from your body before he has the chance to use it on you again. 

“Want your fingers,” you request in a soft voice. “Can you just use your fingers on me?”

Joel nods. “We can try it,” he offers. “Was startin’ to get cold anyway. Why don’t you switch it back to the regular setting and put it back where it belongs?”

You nod and follow suit, playing with the settings before settling on the regular shower feature. You stand up to put the shower head back, letting the water wash over both you and Joel. On your way back to sit with him he holds your hips, steadying your shaky legs. You sit back between his legs, spreading your own. You gasp softly when Joel cautiously brings his right hand to your pussy, starting out with slow, careful circles on your clit. He groans in pain and shakes his head. “Does it hurt?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he answers. “Why don’t you help me out, hm? Use your own hand? Kind of your specialty, ain’t it?” Joel reaches for your hand and then stops suddenly. “Or,” he says, “What if we try something new?”

Oh, man. You’ve experienced a lot of firsts tonight, you’re not sure you can handle another. 

“That poor clit of yours is all worn out huh?” Joel asks. “C’mere. Turn around and face me,” Joel helps you up and then has you straddle his lap, his rock hard cock is between your bodies, the tip all blushed. “I’ve gotten pretty good at doin’ things with my left hand.”

You’re quick to retort. “Except for getting yourself off,” you tease.

“Oh, yeah. Rub it in,” he replies. He snakes his left hand back between your bodies, his middle two fingers pushing inside you. “Was thinkin’ could see how it works out. How’s this feel?” Joel curls his fingers inside of you in a repetitive come hither movement, stroking your g-spot.

“Good,” you tell him. It does feel good, if not a little unfamiliar. 

“Just focus on my fingers,” he instructs. As Joel works his fingers inside of you, you rest your forehead on his own. Breathing steadily, focusing on the feeling it stirs inside of you. It’s a new, different sort of pleasure. “Good girl,” he praises in whispers, “So good for me. You’re almost there.”

You begin to rock your hips into his hand, ignoring the way the hard material of the bench feels on your knees. Your clit is still untouched yet, here you are, that familiar feeling beginning to bloom in your tummy. Nothing’s ever made you feel the way you do right now, here in Joel’s arms. You’re liquid in his hands as your last orgasm begins to build, It’s deeper inside you, a slower build to ecstasy as Joel fucks you on his fingers.Your climax washes over you in waves, white-hot pleasure coursing through your through your body. “Oh my god, Joel,” You come with gasping breaths and moans for the last time, your fluttering walls choking Joel’s fingers and your arousal pooling in his hand. 

Joel holds you tightly in his arms as you come down from your high for the last time tonight. You’re not sure how much time passes, but when you feel ready, you lift yourself up on your knees and reach for Joel’s cock, guiding him to your entrance. 

“Woah, woah–” Joel stops you. 

“You don’t have to do a thing,” you try. “Just let me–fuck. I need you, need to fuck you.”

“After all that? You still want more?”

“Wanna take care of you,” you plead. You want him so bad, need to feel him, need to be closer to him, you need to watch his face. 

Joel smiles sadly as he shakes his head. “You know I can’t give that to ya,” he strokes your cheek, continuing, “God knows I wanna feel you too, sweetheart. We can’t get ahead of ourselves with my damn shoulder and all that. Just give me a few more days, hon.”

You nod in agreement. He’s right, unfortunately. 

“And then I’m all yours,” Joel reaches for your ass and lifts you up, then sits you back down on the bench after he stands up. He stands in front of you, holding his heavy cock between his thumb and first two fingers, bouncing it slightly. “Stay right there,” he says. “You just sit all pretty-like for me, just like ya always do.” 

Joel reaches for the back of your head and guides you to be closer to him, parting your lips with the tip of his cock. He tastes salty, heady and masculine. You cup his balls and squeeze gently, playing with them for a moment before gripping the base of his dick. Joel pushes into your mouth slowly. You swirl your tongue around his tip and his shaft, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks. You love the way he tastes, how he feels, how he jerks his hips slightly when you trail your tongue along an extra sensitive spot of his member. 

“So good,” he praises, “Always so good.” 

Joel maintains eye contact with you as he draws in and out of your mouth, watching you with warm, adoring expression. He loves your eyes, how you watch him as he fucks your mouth. 

Moments go by and Joel’s squeezing his eyes shut, his movements starting to become frenzied. “M’close, hon,” he warns. You reach for his hand with your own and squeeze it a couple of times as if to tell him it’s okay, that he can let go. Joel does just that. He comes with a deep groan, his soft tummy and his chest heaving as he breathes heavily, loudly through his nose. His thick, heavy cock twitches in your mouth as ribbon after ribbon of his hot spend coats your tongue and your throat, which you swallow with pleasure. Joel lets out a strangled sort of noise when you begin to pull your mouth off of him, but first licking his head a couple of times. “Too much, too much,” he warns urgently. Interesting. He can dish it but he can’t take it. But you keep your thoughts about Joel’s overstimulation threshold to yourself. “M’not done with you sweetheart, I promise,” Joel says as he comes down from his high, his breathing now beginning to steady. “Few more days and you’re in trouble.”

Your insides flutter at the prospect, what a welcome threat. You smile as Joel takes your hand and lifts you to your feet, shuts off the shower and reaches for your towel. He helps you to dry off, then dries his own self off before helping you to your feet. Still holding your hand, he takes you to his bedroom and lifts up the covers. You get underneath and Joel tucks you in, walks around to his own side of the bed and joins you. Knowing what you need after all of this, he doesn’t bother asking before pulling you into his side, kissing your cheek and the top of your head. Holding you close and telling you what a good job you did. Making sure you’re okay, asking if you need anything, water, a snack. Whatever. “No,” you tell him before closing your eyes. 

Just as you’re drifting off to sleep, Joel whispers in your ear, “Hon.” 

“What, Joel?” you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. 

“We forgot to wash my hair.”

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #lather #jet stream

[anipgarden]

Things to Do that Aren't Related to Growing Plants

This is my second post in a series I’ll be making on how to increase biodiversity on a budget! I’m not an expert--just an enthusiast--but I hope something you find here helps! 

Some of us just don’t have much luck when it comes to growing plants. Some of us simply want to aim for other ways to help that don’t involve putting on gardening gloves. Maybe you've already got a garden, but you want to do more. No problem! There’s a couple of options you can look into that’ll help attract wildlife in your area without even having to bring out any shovels!

Provide a Water Source

Oftentimes when I see ‘add a water source’ in informational articles about improving your backyard for wildlife, it’s almost always followed by an image of a gorgeous backyard pond with a waterfall and rock lining that looks expensive to set up, difficult to maintain, and overall just… not feasible for me. Arguably, not feasible for a lot of people. And that’s okay! There’s still ways to add water in your garden for all kinds of creatures to enjoy!

There’s tons of ways to create watering stations for insects like bees and butterflies. A self refilling dog bowl can work wonders! Add some stones into the receiving tray for insects to land on or use to climb out, and you’ve got a wonderful drinking spot for all kinds of insects! You can also fill a saucer or other dish with small stones and fill it, though it’ll likely need refilling daily or even several times a day during hot times. 

I've seen people online use all kinds of things to make water features. Some go with terra-cotta pots, pebbles, and a cheap pump to get a small and simple fountain. Others use old tires, clay, and a hole in the ground to create an in-ground mini pond system. If all else fails, even a bucket or watertight box with a few plants in it can do the trick--though do be wary of mosquitoes if the water isn’t moving. In situations like these, a solar-powered fountain pump or bubbler are great for keeping the water moving while still making it a drinking option for wildlife (it not even more appealing for some)--and these items can be obtained fairly cheap online!

Bird baths are an option as well--a classic way to provide for birds in your area, they can be easy to find online or in a gardening store! The only downside is that a good, quality bird bath can be pricey up-front. However, a nice stone bird bath should last a long time, be easy to clean and refill, and be enjoyed by many birds! I’ve also seen tutorials on how to make your own with quickcrete! Bird baths will be a welcome sight to birds, as they provide a space for them to drink and bathe to regulate the oils in their feathers for flight and insulation. Putting a stone in the middle will also help insects to escape if they fall in, and provide a place to perch so they can get their own drink. You’ll want to change the water and clean the baths regularly--as often as once a week, if you can manage it.

If possible, it’s highly encouraged to fill and refill water features with rainwater instead of tap water. Tap water is often treated, so instead of using hoses or indoor kitchen water, collecting some rainwater is a great alternative. Collecting rainwater can be as simple as leaving cups, bins, or pots outside for awhile.

Butterflies and other creatures will also drink from mud puddles. If you can maintain an area of damp soil mixed with a small amount of salt or wood ash, this can be fantastic for them! Some plants also excel at storing water within their leaves and flowers (bromeliads come to mind), making them an excellent habitat for amphibians as well as a drinking spot for insects and birds.

Bird Feeders and Bird Houses

Some of the fancy, decorated bird feeders are expensive, but others can be pretty low-cost--I got my bird feeder from Lowe’s for around 10 dollars, and a big bag of birdseed was around another 10 dollars and has lasted several refills! If you don’t mind occasionally buying more birdseed, a single birdfeeder can do a lot to attract and support local birds! If you’re handy, have some spare wood, and have or can borrow some tools, you may even be able to find instructions online to make your own feeder. You may not even need wood to do so! Even hummingbird feeders, I’ve found, are quick to attract them, as long as you keep them stocked up on fresh sugar water in the spring and summer!

An important note with bird feeders is that you have to make sure you can clean them regularly. Otherwise, they may become a vector for disease, and we want to avoid causing harm whenever possible. Also keep an ear out and track if there’s known outbreaks of bird diseases in your area. If local birding societies and scientists are advising you take your birdfeeders down for awhile, by all means, do it!

Bird houses are naturally paired with bird feeders as biodiversity promoters for backyard spaces, and it makes sense. Having bird houses suited to birds in your area promotes them to breed, raise their young, disperse seeds, and generally engage in your surrounding environment. Setting them up takes careful selection or construction, preparation, and some patience, but sooner or later you might get some little homemakers! Keep in mind, you will need to clean your birdhouses at least once a year (if not once per brood) to make sure they’re ready and safe for birds year after year--you wouldn’t want to promote disease and parasites, after all. But they could be a valuable option for your landscape, whether you purchase one or construct your own! 

Again, do make sure you're putting up the right kind of boxes for the right kinds of birds. Bluebird boxes are some I see sold most commonly, but in my area I believe they're not even all that common--a nesting box for cardinals or chickadees would be far more likely to see success here! And some birds don't even nest in boxes--robins and some other birds are more likely to use a nesting shelf, instead! Research what birds live in your area, take note of any you see around already, and pick a few target species to make homes for!

Solitary Bee Houses

A bee house or bee hotel is a fantastic way to support the solitary bees in your area! For a few dollars and some annual cleaning, you can buy a solitary bee house from most big box nurseries. Alternatively, you can make one at home, with an array of materials you may already have lying around! You can even make them so that they’ll benefit all kinds of insects, and not necessarily just bees.

Though you don’t even necessarily have to break out the hammer and nails, buy a ton of bricks, or borrow a staple gun. Making homes for tunneling bees can be as simple as drilling holes in a log and erecting it, or drilling holes in stumps and dead trees on your property. You might even attract some woodpeckers by doing this!

Providing Nesting Area

There are tons of different kinds of bees, and they all make different kinds of homes for themselves. Not all of them make big cavity hives like honey bees, or will utilize a solitary bee house. Bumblebees live in social hives underground, particularly in abandoned holes made by rodents--some others nest in abandoned bird nests, or cavities like hollow logs, spaces between rocks, compost piles, or unoccupied birdhouses. Borer, Ground, and Miner bees dig into bare, dry soil to create their nests. Sparsely-vegetated patches of soil in well-drained areas are great places to find them making their nests, so providing a similar habitat somewhere in the garden can encourage them to come! I do talk later in this document about mulching bare soil in a garden--however, leaving soil in sunny areas and south-facing slopes bare provides optimal ground nesting habitat. Some species prefer to nest at the base of plants, or loose sandy soil, or smooth-packed and flat bare ground. They’ve also been known to take advantage of soil piles, knocked over tree roots, wheel ruts in farm roads, baseball diamonds and golf course sand traps. You can create nesting ground by digging ditches or creating nesting mounds in well-drained, open, sunny areas with sandy or silty soil. However, artificially constructed ground nests may only have limited success. 

Providing Alternative Pollinator Foods

Nectar and pollen aren’t the only foods sought out by some pollinators! Some species of butterflies are known to flock to overripe fruit or honey water, so setting these out can be an excellent way to provide food to wildlife. You may want to be cautious about how you set these out, otherwise it can help other wildlife, like ants or raccoons. Butterflies may also drop by to visit a sponge in a dish of lightly salted water. 

Bat Houses and Boxes

Big or small, whether they support five bats or five hundred, making bat boxes and supporting local bats is a great way to boost biodiversity! Not only will they eat mosquitoes and other pest species, but you may also be able to use the guano (bat droppings) as fertilizer! Do be careful if you choose to do that though--I’ve never had the opportunity to, so do some research into how strong it is and use it accordingly.

Provide Passageway Points

If you want your area to be more accessible for creatures that can’t fly or climb fences, allowing or creating access points can be an excellent way to give them a way in and out. Holes in the bottom of walls or fences can be sheltered with plants to allow animals through. 

In a somewhat similar manner, if you’re adding a water fixture, it’s important to provide animals a way to get into and out of the pond--no way in, and they can’t use the water. No way out, and they may drown. Creating a naturalistic ramp out of wood beams or sticks, or stepped platforms out of bricks, stones, or logs can do the trick. 

Get or Keep Logs and Brush Piles

I’ve already mentioned logs a good handful of times so far in this post. To be used as access ramps, or as nesting areas for solitary bees. But they have value as much more than that! Logs on the ground provide shelter for all kinds of animals, especially depending on size--anything from mice, reptiles, and amphibians to things like turkey vultures and bears will use fallen logs as shelter. Inside of a decaying log, there’s a lot of humidity, so amphibians are big fans of them--meanwhile, the upper sides of them can be used as sunning platforms by things like lizards. Other animals can also use the insides of logs as nest sites and hiding places from predators too big to fit inside. Fungi, spiders, beetles, termites, ants, grubs, worms, snails, slugs, and likely much more can be found inside rotting logs, using the rotting wood as food sources or nesting places. They can then provide food for mammals, amphibians, reptiles, and birds. They can also be regarded as a landmark or territory marker as wildlife get more familiar with your space.

So how do you get logs for cheap? Try Chip Drop! I talk about them more in a future post, but you can mark saying that you’d like logs in your drop, so they’ll give you any they have! In fact, you may even get a drop faster if you're willing to accept some logs. You may also be able to approach arborists you see working in your area and ask for logs. There may also be local online listings for people selling logs for cheap, or just trying to get rid of them. If there’s land development going on near you, you may be able to snag logs from trees they cut down to make space. Do keep in mind, you don’t need to have huge gigantic logs laying around your property to make an impact--even small logs can help a lot.

If possible, creating and leaving brush piles on the edge of your property can be a great boost to biodiversity--even if you may not see the wildlife using it. They’ll provide shelter from weather and predators, and lower portions are cool and shady for creatures to avoid the hot sun. The upper layers can be used as perch sites and nest sites for song birds, while lower layers are resting sites for amphibians and reptiles, and escape sites for many mammals. As the material decays, they also attract insects, and as such they’ll attract insect-eating animals too. As more small animals find refuse in your brush pile, their predators will be attracted to them as well. Owls, hawks, foxes, and coyotes are known to visit brush piles to hunt. Making a brush pile can be as simple as piling branches and leaves into a mound, as big or as small as you want. You can even use tree stumps or old fence posts near the base, and keep stacking on plant trimmings and fallen branches. Do note that you don’t want to do this near anything like a fire pit.

Don't forget, with all of these, your mileage may vary for any variation of reasons, so don't worry if you can't take all of even any of these actions! Even just talking about them with other people may inspire someone else to put out a bat box, or leave a few logs out for wildlife!

That's the end of this post! My next post is gonna be about ways to get seeds and plants as cheaply as possible. For now, I hope this advice helps! Feel free to reply with any questions, success stories, or anything you think I may have forgotten to add in!

#biodiversity #solarpunk #environmental stewardship #gardening #outdoor gardening #(i know this is literally the Dont Gotta Garden post but these could also be excellent additions to a preexisting garden so) #ani rambles #out of queue #the biodiversity saga #here in the tags to once again emphasize your mileage may vary with all of these #my mom is scared of bats theres no way in hell shes gonna let me put up a bat box #but I have been able to put out a shallow bird bath and a little solarpowered hummingbird bath fountain #do what you can! every bit counts! You may be able to do something that I or your neighbors can't! #for example my nextdoor neighbors have literally no trees in their backyard where the hell would they put a bat box #meanwhile i have trees in my backyard but still can't put up a bat box. maybe the neighbors next to me could! #similarly brush piles are a no go for my family but someone somewhere else could set one up! #i am rambling in the tags now uh long story short do what you can don't stress about what you can't

[b-00-biez]

Would you be able to write if {Michael, Brahms, and Thomas} found out their s/o had a breeding kink.

Breeding kink

With Michael, Brahms, Thomas

Michael

He honestly doesn't know what to do with this information but he will save it for later.

One night you were particularly stubborn and the easiest way for Michael to coax you into doing what he wants is to abuse your poor little entrance. You know he hasn't touched you for weeks and him just teasing you with just his tip probing at the entrance that awaits his full length, fluttering and welcoming him with open arms but he doesn't give in.

"M-michael please.. " you tried to beg for him to just fuck you, insert his full length into you despite him not wearing a condom right now. "Please Michael I'll do whatever the fuck you ask me just fuck me outta my misery.. " you said frustrated already, you know despite his mask, he's smirking underneath. Without a warning, he shoved his whole cock inside making you yelp and ease up around his length. He hooked your legs onto his shoulders and started fucking. His balls slapping your ass and you can hear it making lewd noises. On how rough he was being you can't help but feel your orgasm coming. You grasp whatever words you have left in your cock drunk brain and said "cum in me! Get me fucking pregnant!! " you screamed. Now, he's curious. You want his seed? You want your tummy full of his babies, your breasts swollen with milk? He's not too sure about this but hell you were such a good girl for him right now looking all needy and disheveled, maybe just this once he will fuck you full of his seed.

Brahms

The fact that he was spying on you watching porn and your fingers melting into your very Nectar. He has to know what you were watching so he can replace those damn fingers with his cock. So while you were asleep he swiped your phone and in the safety of his walls he played the video he saw.

He couldn't take off his eyes on that pussy being abused and edged by this guy's long shaft. The video was about to end until the guy pulled out a mix of their cum oozing out of her cunt onto the bed as she shivered from all the orgasm she had. You were watching this while your fingers were desperately trying to make you cum like the needy slut that you are? He didn't want you to suffer when all you needed was his cock and his buckets of cum in you.

After he persuaded you to do it with him he's already in you with no foreplay whatsoever rubbing your clit so roughly while snapping his hips with yours. "Ugh.. All mine Mine!! " he said going faster just burying you on the bed, ass up. He slapped your ass until it was red making you yelp while you felt his cock ramming itself in and out. You had no energy to tell him to slow down but gosh it felt so good when he's this rough! "Get pregnant Get pregnant Get pregnant!! " he chanted while rearranging your insides. Gosh how many orgasms have you had and how many loads does he need to fill you with until he's satisfied?

Thomas

He couldn't help but imagine how your legs wraps around his waist pulling him closer to you while he ruts your very hole. He couldn't help but notice how unresponsive you were after 2-3 rounds and he just couldn't get his mind off on how his meaty cock was a bit visible on your cute tummy while he fucked you up.

He didn't understand what a breeding kink was until you blurted out that he should cum inside you that day.

In the morning while you and his family were having breakfast, Luda Mae asked if you two were gonna have children soon since you couldn't even be separated from Thomas. You choked on your water then looked at Thomas who was already blushing but nodded that he indeed plans to have children with you sooner or later but until you get married to him.

One particular night after that you couldn't take it anymore. He kept cumming outside and on you! He was so careful not to get you pregnant until marriage. "T-thomas please.. Just cum in me! Please I can't wait till marriage I'm already yours!! " you blurted out. He stopped for a moment but then picked up the pace as he rutted into you fucking your g-spot over and over again as he groans in agreement. Mixing your juices and his pre-cum so deliciously and night after night he kept fucking you full of his loads and every time after that you felt satisfied even after you conclude that you were indeed pregnant now.

#slasher fucker #slasher x you #slashers x reader #slasher imagines #slasher headcanons #slasher smut #michael myers x y/n #michael myers headcanons #michael myers smut #brahms x you #brahms smut #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms heelsire x reader #thomas hewitt headcanon #thomas hewitt smut #thomas hewitt

[x-rds]

[Lio] It’s also. Can I say? Brain? It’s also so fucking rude that every time we are going through it and someone new gets plucked out of the primordial darkness to “handle it” that they are then blasted with the full 1000% raw fucking bad vibes energy and the rest of us just have to witness that (which also hits us with it residually), none of us can do fuckall about it, and then spoilers: that is Too Much for them to handle and we have to not only deal with the same fucking situation still, but also a brand new fucked up guy who had no say in whether or not they fucking Exist On This Planet. Like even babies are like. They have a chance to gradually cope with things. But new bastards in ye olde Crossroads? Get blasted with beam of fucking psychic evisceration the moment you start existing and then you look around and see a handful of chucklefucks who have gone through this same fucking traumatic brain-hazing and it’s like. Ok! Why is literally nothing fixed by this series of events

#liolog #=I want you all to understand that headspace has been full of Screaming. for like. Days. #=Not random fearful screaming I mean like Angry Guy In A Song screaming. that guttural but melodic rage type screaming #=on account of the guy that the Brain decided to try to mop up its emotional mess with is A Fucking Bard #=whose power comes from His Fucking Voice like that’s his Instrument he’s a fucking Whispers bard #=and in his defense I do not believe that he actually has much power over this turn of events I think he’s being just bombarded with #our brain’s introductory fucking excruciating psychic beams #=so he’s just mostly been inside of like a fucking. storm bubble? emotional Hell bubble? being only maybe 25% aware of anything and #=otherwise being delirious and getting psychically assaulted and shouting his head off #=which anyone even a little bit near front can hear very fucking loudly #=he’s become more aware recently from what I can tell but like also. still suffering. at this point it’s like. ok. is this necessary? #=can we not just watch some funny YouTube and then go to bed and go to work tomorrow? #=can we not just dissociate or something? must it be this. must this new guy be tortured by our malfunctioning emotional processes #=for like days straight #=like come ON brain you have to know this won’t work right. #=you are filling a bucket with water and the bucket has holes in it. like you get that right #=anyways. we’re very tired. I feel bad for the new guy. I literally cannot do anything about this. #=except wait for it to either pass or like. idk we dissociate enough that we don’t feel it anymore or something

[felixcloud6288]

It's Hurricane Season so I'd like to share some advice as a life-long Floridian who's experienced a few things. This is going to be directed primarily to people living in areas at risk of blackouts which could last several days.

Preparations

Aside from food, water, and gas, some things you'll want to make sure you have are flashlights and batteries. Make sure to refill any medications you might need.

Get raincoats in case you need to go outside cause the wind will destroy any umbrellas.. If you can't get one, take a garbage bag and tear a face hole into it and use that.

Also, get bug repellent, especially mosquito repellent. Mosquitos breed around still water and there will be a lot of still water.

You might want to buy some gardening gloves as well to make the post-storm cleanup safer.

SUPER IMPORTANT FOR SANITY AND SANITATION: get caught up on laundry and dishes. No power means no running water. Don't make things worse by not having clean dishes or clean clothes to use. While you're cleaning, change your bed sheets as well. Once you have power, change your sheets again.

Also, download any games, ebooks, shows, etc you can onto any battery-charged electronic devices you have. It will help your sanity when all you can do is wait.

Finally, while you should ideally board up your windows to protect them from debris, make sure at the minimum that all your windows are closed. Wind pressures are going to suck air out of any openings in your home.

Food and Water

First and most important: DO NOT BE A HOARDER!!

Even if your home has no power, that doesn't mean your local grocery store has no power. You can expect some reduced supply due to damaged supply lines and a spike in demand, but you shouldn't be worrying about empty shelves. At worst, have the amount of supplies you might need for 10 days. If you normally go to the grocery store every 2 weeks or longer, just stock up the amount you normally would.

Buy more items that are less likely to spoil and don't need refrigeration. When you have no power, prioritize eating anything which requires refrigeration (milk, cheese, meats) or has a short shelf life (bread).

Demand will be higher in preparation, and supply will be diminished for a bit, but supply issues only become unbearable when people start hoarding.

As for water, you'll need a surplus since you need water for so much. I cannot stress this particular part enough:

You need water to flush your toilet.

If there's somewhere with running water you can go when you need to poop, use that whenever possible, but you need water available at home to refill your toilet's cistern if you don't have that option (either time, distance, etc).

Make sure you have a supply of drinking water. Don't go buying every water bottle you can find (See the bit about hoarding), but you should buy more than you might normally use. Instead, gather water through things like your sink or from a hose into any sealable containers you might have . If you have a bathtub, fill it up just before the hurricane. If you have a pool, that's another source of water. If no debris got in the pool, you can use it for bathing. If you have empty buckets, you can get some additional water during the hurricane by filling them with large rocks or bricks and leaving them out in the open to collect the rain water.

Different water sources will be used for different purposes:

bottled, canned, or other store-bought water: Drinking, cooking, and refrigeration (explained later)

Water in unsealed containers: refill the toilet cistern

Water in a sealed containers: bathing and cleaning (Can also be used for the toilet)

As mentioned with food, supplies at your grocer will be reduced but not necessarily empty. You should be able to buy enough additional drinking water and be able to also use it for cleaning, giving you more water for the toilet. The tip about gathering rain water will only work once. There will likely be no rain for at least a week afterward.

In case you need to evacuate

Keep tabs on whatever emergency alerts are available. Check what your local radio channel is or what sites to check online. Make sure you know how to get to your local shelter, including alternate paths in case a road is inaccessible.

Load your vehicle with anything you might need to bring with you before the storm so you don't have to spend time looking for them and double checking when every minute could count. Pack some pillows, blankets, and extra clothes just in case. Also include anything you cannot risk losing for school or work like laptops.

Refrigeration

Without power, your fridge is now just a giant cooler and a ticking bomb to being a biohazard. Fill it up as much as possible. Cold air escapes easily when you open it and heat disperses fastest throw the air. Remember how I said you should buy extra water? A fridge filled with cold water will stay cooler longer. Any liquid will do. Fill your fridge with water bottles, soda cans, beer, fruit juice, whatever. As long as it doesn't spoil at room temperature. Milk can technically help too, but since it spoils you shouldn't keep much of it and should use it quickly.

Additional things like fruits and veggies will also help. What matters is you want to reduce the amount of empty space and fill it with anything which can keep the temperature down. Put a frozen block of iron in for all I care. Just don't have a super empty fridge.

If you have a generator

Good for you. You're not completely without power now. But you need to set priorities on what to use it for. Generators can only supply so much power at a time so you can't just hook everything to it and expect things to work out.

Top priority is the fridge. Twice a day, morning and evening, plug the fridge to the generator and let it run for two hours to cool things down. Don't hook up the fridge when you don't expect to open it (like when everyone is asleep).

Second priority should be charging cell phones, laptops, and anything else like that. Depending on your circumstances, you can charge them at work, from your car, etc so only hook them up when batteries are low.

Third, comfort. I understand this will be stressful, but hooking up your tv and gaming computer isn't the best idea. If you've done what I suggested earlier, you'll at least have something to watch or do without needing to hook it to your generator. Like with the above electronics, you might be able to find other ways to charge them, but only attach them to your generator when you don't need to worry about necessities.

Finally for the love of god, DO NOT HOOK AN AC TO THE GENERATOR!!. Air conditioners draw a lot of power, especially once the room is hot. But your generator can only do so much. The AC will kill your power supply really quickly. Use a fan or the AC in your vehicle if you need to cool down.

Also worth noting, if you have an electric vehicle, that could potentially be used as well. I don't know specifics, but look into that if you own one.

Final notes

This is not comprehensive and I may be wrong about some things.

Please refer to actual expert sources for comprehensive help.

This is just suggestions from someone who has to deal with this every year and has figured out how to deal with the aftermath. Your living conditions may be different so please check how to handle any concerns unique to you.

Stay safe and do not give up hope.

#original post #hurricane #hurricane prep #weather

[yawnderu]

Lamb of God — Nikto x Medic!Reader | Part I

Shot, stabbed, beaten... Mikhail has been through hell countless times, yet no amount of training or experience from years in Spetsnaz could ever prepare him for what Victor Zakhaev did to him. 8 missing nails, multiple new wounds on his already scarred body, and a face so disfigured he could no longer recognize himself— not only was his body broken, but so was his psyche.

His first visit was with the medics, wounds in desperate need of cleaning even with infection starting to set in most of them, the chemical burns on his face already blistering and itching despite being scolded by the medic multiple times for scratching himself. He was a difficult patient to say the least— not wanting anyone to touch his injuries or even look at him, only accepting treatment from the only person who dared confront him.

“'Stop that.” Your request comes in a sharp tone, not wanting him to itch his blistering injuries and make the scarring worse than what you knew it would be. A mumbled ''don't tell me what to do'' makes its way to your ears, though you decide to ignore it when he puts his hands way, adhesive bandages decorating his fingers where the nails had been ripped off.

“Sit up for me.” The man is an aggressive dog that defends himself with fangs bared, yet he somehow listens to your commands— even when he scoffs or grumbles before finally doing what you ask. Your gloved hand goes to his chin as you examine the red skin on his face, noting it was washed when he was first rescued, no residue of the acid left. He mumbles something and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to repeat himself.

“Is it gross?” His deep voice asks, accent even rougher with the raw emotion he's feeling. He knows for a fact it's gross, he saw it himself— he has blisters covering over half of his face, still remembering the acid dripping down his face from Zakhaev simply wanting to cause him pain.

“I've seen worse— at least you still have a face.” Being a medic for the military allowed you to see both human cruelty, and the extends injuries could go. You've seen multiple soldiers missing their face, skin pulled and bones poking out of their bodies— Mikhail's injuries aren't the worst you've seen, not even close.

“Your nose doesn't look too weird either, even when I was told it was broken. Your eyes still work, all your limbs are still attached... you'll recover from everything in no time.” You try to keep a positive attitude despite the way his baby blue eyes are staring holes into your head, pupils looking tiny despite the dim light in the room.

“I'm mostly worried about what's going on here.” You tap his head softly and he doesn't take long on pushing your hand away softly, a small smile making way to your lips when you notice how he avoids eye contact for a second before he's back to staring at you. You stare back for a while, trying to decipher what he's feeling before going to grab a cloth, filling a small bucket with cold water and making your way back to him.

“This might hurt a little bit, let me know if you want me to stop and we can take a break.” He looks down at the bucket of water and the cloth you're dipping in, squeezing the excess water as you wait for his approval. He gives you a nod in affirmation, flinching slightly as the cold cloth makes contact with his face. It doesn't hurt as much as he imagined— if anything, it feels almost soothing, the previous ache and itchiness disappearing even if only for a very short while.

“Заканчивай быстрее с этой хернëй.” He mutters under his breath despite how good it actually feels on his injuries, not wanting to get any pity from you.

“Be patient.” It almost feels like he's getting scolded by his nana, faint memories of the old woman cleaning his scrapped knees come to mind, holding onto them to try and stop the bad thoughts from flooding his damaged brain.

“Mikhail.” Your soft voice slowly brings him back to reality, feeling an odd sensation all over his face. His hand goes up to feel his cheeks, only now realizing that you already dressed his wounds. He looks utterly confused, not even remembering you getting gauze, everything happening too suddenly. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't remember most of the heli flight back home, too busy thinking about... what was he even thinking about?

“Mikhail.” You repeat, one of your gloved hands going to his shoulder in attempts to make him look at you. He's still staring blankly at the floor, just as he has been doing for the past 20 minutes, not responding to his own name.

“Quiet, I hear enough voices.” He brushes you off, finally getting up from the medical bed and quickly leaving your office despite the small limp from the beatings he took for days.

He hears voices? His next stop will have to be with the provided psychiatrist once his body recovers a little bit to test if he's still fit to be part of Spetsnaz, leaving your heart filled with worry until you move onto the next patient, making a mental note to check on him later.

A/N: Mikhail is Nikto's name in this fic, the person he used to be before turning into Никто.

#stray answers #cod mw2 #cod mwii #mw3 nikto #mw2 nikto #nikto cod #nikto x reader #nikto x you #call of duty nikto #cod nikto #nikto x fem!reader #nikto x female!reader #nikto #mwii nikto #nikto call of duty #tw blood #tw violence #tw mental illness #tw injury #medic!reader #nikto x medic!reader #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you

[anantaru]

jelly scara is so cute, he's such a needy bf it's adorable

cw, needy, a bit possessive, jealous! scara, fem! reader

irrespective of you long returning in the closeness of the night, back into scaramouche's unyielding encirclement, he recognized his surged feelings as if someone had poured a large bucket of freezing water on his body the second he had you for himself again— he unconditionally missed you so damn much.

and you sensed it, undisputedly clear— could flat out notice him vulnerably stick his rosy tip against your glossy hole and voicelessly beg for you to let him in with his bottomless lustrous eyes. It was you who had to allow him, to please permit him to that unparalleled cushiness of your mellow walls softly battening his erect length.

"fuck don't do this— don't." he whispers against your lips before his needy hands briskly pull on your shirt to tow it up and expose more uncovered skin, so scaramouche had a much more pleasant way to demonstrate it to you, study you, so when he finally fucks you he can concurrently round his tongue on your smooth tits to leave those burning hickies on your sweat laced skin— mainly, to have you remember who you belonged to.

"did you miss me?" you playfully buzz into his ear and keep your breath in when he progressively slipped himself into your cunt, tumbling the first few inches of his length and have it split you apart, his voice now wholly paling into a passing sigh of consolation.

"yes, yes..." scaramouche does not smile, subduing a drunk grin when he resorted to show you a shy nod of his head instead before leaning closer into your overturning pussy, erratically panting into every next word spoken by him. His fingers guide into your chest and your tits fit so nicely squished again him, he could notice himself get even harder in you, he must need to taste you afterwards— it's a given.

his body moves on his own now— his whines meek and barely to be heard while he's slowly levering his cock in and out again, making sure to give your aching muscles enough attention, because you deserve it— you're his darling, his honeyed love, no one else's but his.

your mewls easily slip from your throat at how helplessly good he was drilling into your gummy walls— how your messy cunt was fluttering around his girth and tightening on each upcoming hump, greedily squeezing him to the point when he knew he couldn't possibly keep on like this any longer and has to cum, mess you up and fill you with his seed.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#scaramouche smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #𖤣𖤥𖠿𖤣𖤥 thirsts'

[sugar-plum-writer]

A Heian Era Affair

Paring: GojoSatrou!ModernEra x FemReader!HeianEra! Tags: Fem!Reader; Gojo!imagines; slight!mention of violence; 18+ as more chapters come; slow burn [I want to have a good build up~ just like my Sukuna series fic~]; An ancient Japan romance through time with reader Text: Gojo ends up in the Heian Era through unknown reason (will be reveled later on) and meets reader and hence journey begins both of adventure and romance~ [If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

CHAPTER - 1

The bamboo trees rustled as the cool wind blew, almost hauntingly as if carrying a message from another side of the world. Wiping your sweat with a ragged cloth, you stumbled and walked while carrying a bucket of water to your old wooden house.

It was hard to make a living, the minister of your area was evil, exploiting the people to death, and raising taxes beyond what people could pay. It was a nightmare- no worse at least you could wake up from nightmares but what about reality? can you wake up from it?

Sometimes you wanted to barge in and rip his head off. Too bad you could not, the guards were too strong, and with your strength you doubt you could ever survive.

Sighing, you returned to the river to fill your bucket again.

You had just bent over when a strong gust of wind started blowing out from nowhere, the trees shrieked as the water rippled- throwing you back 10 feet away with a slam- making you hit a tree. The sharp pain made your back go numb. As you tried to get up staggering- the wind kicked up a notch increasing it's speed and power like a cyclone. Your eyes widened in horror as you looked at what was happening- a big black hole appeared in the middle of the river; with water distorting around it and floating up defying gravity.

"What on-"

Before your brain could comprehend what just happened, a white-haired man flew out of the hole towards you, slamming into you-

Bang

Opening your eyes, you tried to get up, but- found the man on top of you, your legs intertwined together, he groaned as he tried to stand

"Ugh"

His voice was deep causing you to freeze a moment, but you came back to your senses and pushed him off

"Who are you!? You demon!" you screamed as you looked at him

"Me? Ah I am Gojo Satoru and no I am no demon, it's the first someone has called me a demon! sure I might be tall but it does not mean I am a demon haha~" he smiled as he looked at you helping you stand up

"What-!? but you j-"

"Do you know where this is? I am a bit in a hurry"

"This is Mizushima village…."

He paused

"What?…. since when did we have a Mizushima village in Japan? Isn't Mizushima an Island!? which prefecture even is this?"

"Prefecture? Our village is part of the Minamoto Clan on the West side"

He paused longer this time

"Minamoto Clan?…"

"Yeah"

"eh?" he froze as he cocked his head to the side

"For real?"

"Yeah"

"I….what-what era is this?" his voice trembled a bit

"This is the Heian Era…the year is 1185…" You looked at him as he stood grounded on the spot contemplating the meaning of his life

Now that you observed him, he was wearing weird clothing the fabric was also very different from what you had ever seen, it was so smooth and very different from cotton- almost otherworldly

"Is he a noble? from Heian-kyo?", you thought to yourself and backed away a bit

"I am…1000 years in the past oh shit"

"Shit? What does it mean? which part are you from? your Japanese is very weird" You looked at him even more confused, even his accent was weird and some words he used were different

"Ah…." he looked at you struggling to explain

"You see…I am from the future more than 1000 years from the future, I know it sounds absurd but..it is the truth" he looked at you seriously meaning every word he said

"Huh? What-what bullshit are you saying? Are you a psycho? possessed?" you looked at him bewildered

"What is bullshit?" he looked at you confused

"I-I am leaving; good day to you, to ask what bullshit means I- you should find a priest" Picking up your bucket you hurried away wondering why you always met weirdos

"Wait-!" he yelled but you turned deaf to his words and ran as fast as your feet allowed you to.

You ran as fast as you could but he appeared in front of you almost like magic

"Please listen to me! I am not lying!!" he grabbed you by the shoulders frantically

"I really am from the future!"

"You freak let go of me!! AHHHHH!" you punched him doing little to no damage and screaming

This continued for some time, you running and him teleporting wherever you were it went on for a few hours and soon both of you sat panting on the ground

"Man…you sure got some stamina.." he wiped the sweat off his forehead simultaneously removing the blindfold

You froze- his eyes- were breathtaking; looking into them your heart exploded like fireworks, so serene, it felt like you were looking at the sky itself. You had never seen such eyes ever

How can someone be this good-looking?

"What? too captive by my looks~ Ah I guess even in the Heian Era I am attractive~" he leaned in with a smirk causing you to look away blushing crimson

"Who would!? you demon! Get away!"

He pouted a bit disappointed

"H…How do I believe you are from the future? And your powers? What are you?"

"I am a sorcerer from the Gojo Clan and…as for how I am from the future…" he scratched his head

"Got it!"

He smirked and took out a weird looking box and opened it

"Here try some, I bet you have never eaten something like this! It is a cheesecake that too from a very famous shop"

With swift movement from his hands, he put the cake in your hands, its scent was sweet, it was jiggly- even a bit liquid-y making you wonder if it was poison

"You...you sure humans can eat this?" your hands trembled as you held the plate

"Yes, it is! here~" he took the fork in his hands and ate a small bite of the cake- grinning

"Ah it really is good~"

Seeing him eat it and look so elated you also wanted a bite- how bad could it be? with a gulp and sharp breath you took a bite- a bite so good it made your eyes light up-

The flavor was exploding in your mouth, it had a rich and creamy flavor with a slightly tangy and sweet taste. The texture was smooth and dense melting in your mouth it felt like heaven.

"It must be so expensive....even in death I doubt I could eat something like this.."

He paused for a moment but then a smile crept up his lips

"Eh it was nothing just enjoy~" he winked

"You should see your reaction~ now that's a nice expression! It makes me wonder what other reactions you can make if I gave you other things~" smirking he leaned in his breath inches away from yours

"So...Do you believe me now?"

"....Yeah" nodding you took another bite

"Yay! Thank you~ please look after me from now on~"

[Link to my master list~ enjoy!]

#fanfic #jjk #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen anime #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo #gojo saturo #jjk satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

[oneforthemunny]

Just for some fun, random characterization… I feel like baby Cooper blows out the candle of his birthday cake by grabbing a fist full of the flame.

Also, definitely a rain boots kid. Even when it’s not raining. There’s always rubber rain boots stomping around.

eddie ends up just holding his hands and bouncing with him while everyone sings to him because he keeps trying to grab literal fire lol.

he's definitely the type of baby to just face plant into it too. he's not really sure at first, kinda looks at you and eddie like "hey?? you gonna help me orrrr???"

eddie feeds him a little of the icing, the both of you melting when his eyes light up at the taste. then he's falling face first into the tiny cake, fist fulls of cake, slobbering all over it and squealing with laughter.

he's a rain boot kid until he's a toddler and can make choices, then he wants boots "to match daddy" so you get him a cutesy little pair of cowboy boots. bright red or yellow rain boots?? stomping in mud puddles and giggling when it splashes up on him.

he gets so sad when eddie fills the holes. goes out after it rains to his usual puddle and he can't find it. "daddy filled it coop." you hum. "it's all gone."

"all gone?" cooper repeats, eyes rounded in the most pitiful way. makes you want to go get a shovel and re-dig the hole yourself. fling all the gravel in the yard so eddie will bitch when he goes to mow.

"all gone." you nod slowly, anticipating the tiny cry that comes, teeny toddler cooper running into your legs, rubbing his teary face against your jeans.

you take him to see eddie, both of you greeting him with matching frowns. "what?" eddie's amused face falls. "what'd i do?" he sighs.

"cooper doesn't have a puddle to jump in anymore." you glare at eddie.

"well, i had to fill it, sweetheart. i was gonna pop a tire-"

"-you said you'd leave a little bit for him." you huffed, giving him a pointed glare.

"i thought i did." eddie huffed, rolling his eyes.

"all gone?" coop's watery chirp of a tone has eddie's heart swelling, your glare intensifying, cradling the toddler to your chest.

eddie huffs, stomping out to the side of the barn. a small-ish bucket eddie usually brings with him to the creek is out there, he pours some of the water out so it's just enough for cooper. within minutes, your baby boy is back to jumping, holding eddie's hands while he stomps around in the bucket, giggling and splashing around.

#don't talk to me i'm mourning over my fictional baby #oneforthemunny #munnytalks #cowboy!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!cowboy!eddie x mom!reader

[konigsblog]

I humbly request some kidnapper!Konig content because I can never get enough of it and I feel like it's been a hot minute since you wrote any and then I saw that post about it today and all of my neurones activated 😩😩 can't get enough of that man I swear

please i need more kidnapper!könig and dadbod!könig requests, pleaseeeeee :((( :((( :((((

grrr :( i bet he has such a high libido, desperate for your trust and affection :( he just can't get enough of you; how obedient you are, how eager you are to allow him to fuck your asshole for the first time, restrained with rope and his body pressed against yours. he's spooning you, your wrists tied to the bed frame, bound and rubbing against your soft skin, causing friction and rope burn ...

you whine, whimpering as he holds your thigh up, mumbling out something incoherent that gets ignored, droolin' due to the ballgag :( he eases inside slowly, unable to control his pace. he hits your ass with a ‘thump’ the sounds of skin slapping echoing throughout the four walls, cryin' his name as he fucks you relentlessly :( you feel so weak and vulnerable beneath him, he's so brooding and large, able to bend you over and ruin you !!!

thick, lengthy dick stuffed into your ass, thrusting a few times before increasing his pace and pounding into you while forcing you to maintain eye contact. his thick austrian accent prominent as he degrades and humilates you, making your eyes watery and glassy as he slams into you, fucking his cum deeper :((( how embarrased you are to be fucked by your kidnapper!!! panting and attempting to wrigge away while he cockwarms you, keeping his thick, heavy size in your asshole all night :(

definitely fucks you and bounces you up and down, taking a little break from writing reports, shoving you down on his dick with a mean pace after you'd been naughty and attempted to leave through the bolted shut windows -- how stupid you are... all whiney as he fucks deeper into you, growling lowly as throwing his head back as he feels himself in your stomach, cumming deep into your hole and filling you with potent seed :( you sob hard and cry into his chest foe support while he lectures you and spanks your ass occasionally, a jolt rushing through you as he gropes you ass, pussy still dripping and drowning in juices and thick, hot load :((((

aghh, fucking you against the wall as punishment, keeping you in the basement till you're apologising profusely and begging to get out, hating the memories down there :( “dirty fucking slut. you know better, engel...” he chuckles lowly as you squeal, grasping at his shoulders as he bullies his stiff, huge cock deeper into you. face tearstained and raw as he leaves you with his cum oozing out your tightness, using a bucket of warm water and a towel to wash you, not even giving you privacy nor decency as a further punishment!!

#orla speaks #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig cod #cod konig #konig x reader smut #konig x reader #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #könig call of duty #könig

[seresinhangmanjake]

It’s oh so quiet

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

Summary: you are in a bad relationship, and you just want to be with Jake.

Warnings: angst (?), but fluffy end. cursing. cheating/unfaithfulness. poor relationship.

notes: its technically jake seresin x reader/bradley bradshaw x reader, but barely

Sorry i’ve been so awol. there has just been a lot going on

Words: 1668

-----

"Did you know the sheets pilled?"

There's an oblong table in your kitchen. Large. Out of place in the cramped space. He sits at one end, you at the other. The distance between you is enough to keep one another well out of reach, but you're used to it. With your hands in your lap, you stare at the outside of the flimsy newsprint in his grip that obscures most of his face. 

"What?" He asks, taking a sip of coffee. He doesn't bother to flick the corner of the page down to meet your eye. 

"The bedsheets,” you pick at your thumbnail, “they pilled. From the washer." Cheap things. So thin you can see the label of your mattress through the fabric. That they're not littered with holes is a miracle. “That’s why it feels like someone dumped a bucket of cracker crumbs in the bed.”

"Oh," he pauses, maintaining his full attention on the article. You know he didn’t bother to fully absorb your words before opening his mouth. His stupid mouth. "I hadn't noticed."

Of course not, you think. He sleeps soundly. Thoroughly. He sleeps like a cradled cat with a belly full of milk. Always waking perfectly rested; yesterday’s troubles as thick and potent in his mind as a cup of watered-down coffee is on his tongue. His side of the bed might as well be silky soft, smooth. You wouldn’t know. You haven’t spent much time there in a while. Meanwhile, your side is filled with little balls of hardened fabric that scrape their way into the uppermost layer of your skin. As irritating as kneeling on a pile of uncooked grits or chipped pieces of rock. 

You don’t sleep anymore. You can’t blame the sheets. You think of him. The other him. The him whose face is tattooed on the inside of your eyelids. Ever present. Following you with each blink—each attempt at rest. 

-

“Are you going to leave him?”

Your hand runs softly down the side of his face, skimming across the light blond scruff coating his jaw. “Is that what you want?”

He grabs your hand from his face. Kisses your palm. “You know it is.”

-

The man before you doesn’t speak—he reads. He doesn’t look up. You’re not there; not to him. The room is once again silent—silence in its rawest form. We have silent sex, you suddenly think. Well, had silent sex. You don’t touch him anymore and he doesn’t try to touch you. He knows better; knows you prefer those touches to come from another’s fingers; he just doesn’t know whose. He doesn’t ask. 

It’s so heavy, this silence. Thick. Hard to penetrate. It’s different here, in this space. Uncomfortable and achy and soon it will morph into pure pain—it always does. It makes you miss the noise. The days you used to fight. The screams and the curses and that time the walls shook when his fist pummeled through the plaster. Without the noise, this silence is a murderous little thing. It seeps into your pores, nestles under your skin, and slowly eats away at your insides until you feel ugly and rotten, like a festering wound. Something to be cut out and discarded. 

It’s not like that with him. With him, silence is easy; it’s peace. It turns your brain into cotton candy clouds. You’re free to not have to think. You’re free to breathe. You like breathing. It’s oddly pleasant. Even more so when you’re laying beside him while his fingers sift through the stands of your hair. 

-

“I love you,” he says. 

“I know—I love you, too.”

“Then when do I get to clear out half of my closet?”

You raise a brow. “Get to?”

He only smiles and tugs your body closer to his. “I want to have you here. I'm ready for you to be mine. Only mine."

-

You are ready, too. So, so ready. Each moment of acting otherwise seems to age you. Like nature looks upon you every day, shaking its head in disappointment, and decides that if you’re going to waste your time being miserable when you could be happy, then you don’t get to keep your youth. You’re wasting it and you don’t deserve such a gift. 

You understand nature’s irritation. You hadn’t been too thrilled with yourself, either. But then last weekend happened. 

For the first time, you hadn't left his place to shuffle your way back to your apartment. You woke up in a bed other than your own and when you opened your eyes, you flipped over to be met with the peaceful face of the man you loved—asleep, and yet awake enough to subconsciously wrap his arm tighter around your waist and nuzzle his face into your hair. You knew in a half-second that that was where you belonged. With him. In his arms, his bed, his heart. Your life is meant to be by his side. It's just a matter of speaking it aloud to more than yourself. 

Your eyes penetrate through the paper. You can practically see his face; emotionless, dull, the entirety of him unmoved by your presence. 

“It’s Jake,” you finally say, your voice powerful, slicing through the air. You take a breath. "It's been Jake."

He still doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. You start to think you’ve reached a whole new level of insignificance to him. But then he folds the newspaper and lays it flat atop the table. He looks up at you—stares straight into your soul.

“It was that girl from the bar,” he says. 

It doesn’t hurt. Not one bit. You don’t feel anything in your body at the thought of his limbs entangled with another woman's. Your heart doesn’t crack, your head doesn’t ache, your fingers don’t tremble. It’s nothingness. There’s nothing.

You only nod in response, but truthfully you don’t know which girl he is talking about. There were many options. Women fling themselves at him whenever you go out, and he lets them. His voice is a beacon from the moment he sits himself down on that piano bench. A beacon to all women but you. With his eyes on them, yours are always on Jake, standing on the other side of the bar, his hand outstretched for you to take and sneak off somewhere more private. 

He shakes his head as he crosses his arms and fully leans back in the chair. His snort is a puff of air. “He’s always talking about you,” he says. “Drags your name into every damn conversation.”

You hold back the smile his words beg to spread across your face. But his own meaning is clear. I should’ve known. It was so obvious. It was right in front of me the whole time. 

You agree. It was right there, in plain sight, from the moment it started. He just never cared enough to bother seeing. Neither did you care to notice how easily he fell into arms that were not your own.

“No one else to pick but my teammate?” he asks.

You shrug. “Why did you pick the girl you did?”

“She was there and she wanted me.” 

"Jake was there and he wanted me," you say. “And I fell in love with him.” To say the least. Jake Seresin hit you like an avalanche; showing you all the things you didn't know you could have. All the things that completely and simultaneously swell your heart and set your body aflame.

"Well." Fingers run through his brown locks. “Are you leaving or am I?”

“I am. At the end of the week.”

He scoffs, but there’s a hint of a dry laugh buried beneath it. “All planned out and everything, huh?”

You can practically taste the bitterness on his tongue. You know it all too well from past kisses. It's his pride this time, though, that has been damaged. You feel an ounce of regret for that. Hurting him is not your intention. It never was. But anything he feels now is not a wound to the heart. It's been quite some time since you could have had that power.

“When was the last time we were good for one another, Bradley? When was the last time you looked at me and could truly say you loved me?”

He's quiet, yet again. This time appearing to think on your question. Perhaps he believes it's for your benefit to not seem so terribly obvious in already knowing the answer. But he’s not alone. You've both known the answer for far too long. 

“I don’t know," he says. 

You nod. "Neither do I.”

—-

He's leaning against the back of his truck; muscled body clad in jeans and a black t-shirt, the short sleeves straining from the thickness of his biceps. He hasn't noticed you yet and you let yourself stare at him—taking him in, absorbing him the way his skin absorbs the summer sun. 

Then you smile wide and run to him from the entrance of your apartment building. He notices you just in time to catch you in his arms, spinning you around once before setting you on your feet. 

"Hi," you say. 

He shakes his head with a smile that mirrors your own, and then he kisses you. A soft press of his lips to yours, but it's enough to burst tingles throughout your body, reaching down to your toes and to the tips of your fingers that are weaving into the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Hi, baby," he whispers between the narrow space separating your lips when you break the kiss. "I missed you."

A chuckle escapes your mouth as he sighs and rests his forehead against yours. His arms tighten around you, as if holding you loosely would give you the freedom to evaporate from his grasp. But you never will. Not by your own choice. "I don't think you'll be saying that for a while, Jake."

"Good." He gives you another long kiss. "Let's go get your stuff."

-----

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#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin fanfic #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun maverick hangman #top gun hangman #tgm #tgm fic #glen powell

[gemapples]

im so sorry it took me so long to answer these oml but YES i'd be happy to show how i draw and color :)

— SKETCHING

please note that i almost always sketch traditionally first lol it's just a lot easier for me to determine how the drawing is placed that way, but i always go over and re-sketch it digitally

for magolor i always start with a basic egg shape (lmao) and then i add his ears. then I draw the scarf; it's easy to determine the shape and dynamicism based on where the bottoms of the ears are located

then i usually add the cape and hood together. where and how these are placed and what these look like in general are very important because they're the main area that perspective is directed to (the ears and everything else is important too ofc!! but the hood and cape usually help demonstrate where he is looking and how he is moving the most). then i add everything else, usually his hands last!

— LINEART

ohhhhhh god my worst enemy. Hope youre sitting down because this will be embarrassing LMAO

lineart is easily what i struggle with most and is more often than not the most time consuming and grating step for me. If i had a choice i would drop it in a heartbeat, but my style is so dependent on thick lines and shapes that it's difficult to 😭 a hole i dug myself into unfortunately ITS FINE THOUGH. ANYWAYS I'm getting sidetracked

i use my finger to draw all my digital art, which means i usually have to use a Heavy stabilizer to avoid shakiness and staggered lines. Unfortunately ibis paint's stabilizer is actually dog water and doesn't even stabilize more than half the time (in which case i have to repeat lines over. And over. And over again until i get it right) but when it does like me and works properly it's very helpful!

i always use the soft school pen bleed brush as my main tool for lineart. This brush has been my best friend for everything, i even use it for sketching idk it just really like the way it looks lol. sometimes i change the aspect if i want the lines to look more ,, chalky?? or smoother depending on the work

i don't really use this tool much but for this specific piece, force fade was my partner in crime

also i think i need to mention that i use so many layers for this. So many layers lol like to the point it's embarrassing. and at the end i merge most of them (except for the gear patterns, rings on his ear, and eyes + hands, which usually need to be by themselves as they're colored separately) Thank you for layers

and i end up with this!

— COLORING && SHADING

yippee yahoo the fun part !!! the part that i love the most

at this point, if i havent already, i always create a folder for convenience in organization because this is the part that i stress the most about what details are on which layers lmao

then i add ANOTHER layer below that for the color, then i put every single color used on their own separate layer!

now, for shading, if im working on larger pieces with more complex shading, i'll usually plan it all out. normally when just drawing magolor, i don't really need to do this anymore because i'm so used to it lol, but for funsies i did it here anyways

then i use the bucket tool to fill them all in

i usually have a set color palette for all the characters i draw (though the way i shade white differs. A lot between my work as you can probably tell fhdfgf). For every color, i have two specific tones that are associated with the shading. for example, indigo + violet are shaded with my blue, pink + light orange (or lighter pink depending on my mood lol) are shaded with yellow, etc.

so, i shade the other areas with the 2nd shading color

a big tip i can give for coloring is to look at a color wheel when you draw. i know that sounds like. Such basic advice LMAO but that seriously was a huge help for me when developing my shading and something i learned while studying — if you notice, in all of the shading in my work, all of the colors used are analogous on the color wheel. note that not ALL combinations will work together like others obv !! but it's a huge step in knowing where to go with it

then i add other extra details like extra lighting, halftones (if i feel like it // if it fits the work), glow to his eyes, and color the lines and ta-da!

another tool i use a lot especially with my more recent art are blending modes, especially multiply. i use a clipping layer to add a dark color (usually a dark blue or purple) and set it to multiply, then erase the areas that emit light

and this is the end result! this is a very very basic demonstration of it fhdjg i was a pretty messy with the lighting and erasing in this example but you get the general idea right

and that's how i draw :) i hope this was helpful, and thanks for asking and being so patient with the response!

#ask #magolor #kirby #macdraws #ive wanted to make a tutorial for So long and finally found a bit of time to do it lmao

[kasaron]

Do you have the apple wine recipe? Thank you!

Sure thing! I'll do you one better, I'll give you my recipe for ANY KIND of fruit wine.

Please note, this will make approx 5 gallons of rather strong, dry wine. It will be about 15% ABV, and I encourage you to BE CAREFUL when drinking it, as it can be stronger than you expect.

Full instructions Below;

Supplies; (These are reusable items or materials which you use to make the wine).

(2) 5 gallon brewing buckets (or a 6 gallon food grade bucket. Regular 5 gallon ones are too small; you can use practically any kind of food grade container, as long as it's glass, stainless steel, or HMPE/UHMPE plastic). you can TECHNICALLY use 1 brewing bucket and 1 regular 5 gallon, cause of lees and other loss, but ehhh. Make sure the bucket lid has a hole to accept your airlock, and is waterproof otherwise.

(1) large plastic tub or container. I like big HDX totes for this.

(1) siphon (get the 24" one. just do it.)

(1) brewing airlock

(1) StarSan (sanitizer)

(1) hydroemeter and matchjing graduated cylinder (this is to measure the potential strength).

(1) waterproof baking scale

(1) pair of nitrile gloves

(1) 24" long stainless steel mixing spoon (ALUMINUM IS BAD DO NOT USE)

(1) Turkey Baster (New, Clean, Unused. Label it for brewing only)

(1) Large stainless steel, glass, or ceramic bowl

Theory (I promise to be brief here).

Alcohol is made when yeast eats sugar and oxygen, the byproduct is more yeast, carbon dioxide, alcohol, and what are called esters (complex aromatic chemicals). Not all yeast are made equal, and many thrive in specific environments, or make specific byproducts.

Some universal rules;

No Vitamin C, Citric Acid, or Citrus Juices. (Kills the yeast.)

No Juices w/ Preservatives. (You can use from concentrate, as long as there's nothing else in it).

No Artifical, or Non-Sugar Sweeteners (It doesn't work).

Nothing With a High Protein Content (Milk, nuts, etc. It will rot. Don't.)

Nothing with a lot of salt. (Also kills the yeast.)

Between 100-70F, for most yeasts.

Ingredients

5 gallons of fruit juice (any blend, any brand, any kind, follow the universal rules.)

Sugar/Sweeteners (I like dark brown sugar and unsulphured molasses, expect to use 4-6 pounds)

Spices, mixins, whatnot (see below).

Process.

Sanitize; You will need to make a batch of StarSan (read the instructions!) with warm water in your large plastic container. This is your sanitary solution. This will kill unwanted microorganisms. It is 100% food safe. Do NOT rinse or wipe sanitized items, if a sanitized item touches ANYTHING that isn't sanitized, it is no longer sanitized. You will have to sanitize everything except your ingredients, and that includes your hands, repeatedly, any time they touch anything that is not explicitly sanitized. To sanitize something, immerse it it for approx five seconds, and pour/let drip any remaining star san on or in the object. The residual star san is FINE. Don't worry about it.

Must; Pour your fruit juice into your brewing bucket (AFTER SANITIZING THE BUCKET). This will mix all the fruit juices you may use, this is vital. Meanwhile, put your yeast packet (UNOPENED) into your pocket. Trust me.

Measure; Use your turkey baster to fill your graduated cylinder, and hydrometer. Note (WRITE DOWN) the brix, and specific gravity. Use this calculator: https://www.brewersfriend.com/brix-converter/ to get the current potential ABV. Now, work out what ABV you want, by gradually increasing the brix, until it hits a point you'd like. Take those Brix, and plug them into this calculator: https://www.brewersfriend.com/chaptalization-calculator/ to get how many pounds of sugar to add. Measure that amount of sugar by weight, into your bowl. If you are using liquid sweeteners, you will have to work out how much sugar they have, by weight; that can take some math, but there are ways to find it online. Add that sugar/sweetener to the brewing bucket, and mix until dissolved. Take a second measurement, to confirm that the Brix has gotten to the correct levels.

Mixins; add any spices, or mixins you want. I am very partial to a half or whole cup of coldbrew concentrate, 2 ounces of vanilla extract, and a small bit of cinnamon (very small). You can add black tea, cloves, nutmeg, even citrus zest; just follow the universal rules, and if feasible, sanitize the material. If you can't sanitize it, it should be ok, generally, as long as it's visibly clean and free of gunk.

Mix! Add your yeast. You do NOT need to prep your yeast, save for to get it up to body temperature SLOWLY (put it in your pocket while you work). Put your sanitized lid on your brewing bucket/vessel, and shake vigorously. If this is not feasible, or you are not very physically strong, instead vigorously mix the mixture. Your goal is to aerate the mixture, to add oxygen, which the yeast needs for it's initial growth spurt.

Airlock; Add the airlock, write the Brix, and starting date on the bucket or on a small bit of painter's tape, and store in a room with a stable temperature, away from sunlight. 70-90F is ideal for most yeast.

Wait; Check on the airlock, it it's making bloop noises, it's fermenting. When it stops making bloop noises, or they seriously slow down, the fermentation is done. this will take approx 1-2 months, in my experience.

Check; Make your star san again, sanitize your gear. Open your brewing bucket. If you see mold, when you open the brewing bucket, you failed. Try again. If you see brown/crusty stuff on the sides, thats OK; that's Kroysen, it's normal. Use your baster as before, to check the Brix/SPG. It should now read near zero. If so, it's done, if not, maybe add a bit more yeast, close it up and wait a little longer. If there are any off flavors, make a note of them. that's not unusual, and it's NOT impossible to fix. Google the specific flavor smell or whatever, and you'll find suggestions. If it's rotten eggs/feet smell, see next step.

Rack; When it's ready as above step, use your siphon to siphon the wine from it's current bucket, to a second one. Do your best to not disturb the bucket before or during this step, as a lot of dead yeast has settled to the bottom, and we want it to stay there. This second bucket can be a regular, food-grade 5-gallon bucket; since you will be leaving some stuff behind, and fermentation is done. If the wine smells like rotten eggs, you need to "air rack" it, that means, when you siphon it, let the wine pass through a strainer or collander on the way out, or let it fall from a height, so knock out the sulphur dioxide. APPLE WINE WILL ALWAYS NEED TO BE AIR RACKED.

Enjoy! You can bottle it at this point, or do what I do, which is have a bucket with a spigot that I can grab a glass from whenever I feel like it, in a cool dark place in my basement.

For my apple wine,

5 gal apple wine

4 lbs of brown sugar

12oz mollasses

K1V-1116 yeast

And if you do choose to make your own wine, I implore you to share it with others, and also let me know how it goes!

#brewing #homebrewing #home brewing #cooking #crafting

[sweetfire01]

hey again! it’s been a while, hehe!

i was rewatching the obey me anime (on youtube) and saw the beach episode and it made me think of the obey me boys taking the little one to the beach

there was also the field trip episode — the one with satan reading that forbidden spell book where he acted like a toddler after reading it — and it also made me think of the little one

just imagine how the poor little one would be — there’d probably be so much humiliation omfg but yeah !!

— anon (🍊)

The problem of leaving my draft: I'm finish it now while it's raining.

Hi tangarine, I didn't watch the field trip episode (or maybe I did, but I don't remember it well) but the beach one was great!

And Little!Mc at the beach with the brothers? It will be so fun for sure! Or at least for them.

After putting you a waterproof diaper and a cute hat on your head to protect your eyes from the sun, they slather you with lots of sunscreen. They know your skin is delicate and you risk burning yourself, but now you can play safely under the umbrella. You can build a big castle together, they teach you how to fill your bucket with sand and tip it over to form towers. Why are you pouting and saying you're not having fun? Oh, it's because you can't get it right, is it? Don't worry, let one of your dads take care of it and you can create lots of little animals with your sand moulds. Look: there's the turtle, the fish, the jellyfish, Lotan… And now that it's finished, it needs to be decorated, right? They accompany you around, obviously while holding your hand, making you collect the most beautiful shells and putting them in the bucket they carry. And when you return, there are a couple of floaties waiting for you. Aren't you excited to play in the water? Obviously by "playing in the water" they mean that area no more than 2 meters away from the shore. They sit down and hold you in their lap. Probably the water doesn't reach above your tummy, but look! A wave is coming! Did you see it? It was so big that the water hit your ribs! Ooh, there's another one coming!

After this humiliating activity has gone on for a while, it's time for your bottle and then a nap. You need to rest if you want to have enough energy to play later! You still have to create a big hole and fill it with water for your toy fish to swim in! And if you behave well, before returning home you can even have a cup of ice cream! Today is a really fun day for you, isn't it?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #age regression #forced age regression

[specialagentlokitty]

Daryl x reader - no angels here

Part 10:

It wasn’t long until you left, but this time you didn’t wonder far, instead you sat in the roof of the house so Daryl knew you were nearby.

Your wings had left a large amount of dust and dart behind, and almost what Daryl could describe was ash.

So when morning came around he walked into your room and opened the window.

“Follow me.”

You turned to look at him, and got up, trailing through the house after him.

“Where we going?” You asked.

He led you into the bathroom and he pointed to the edge of the shower.

“Sit.”

“Why?”

You looked at him in utter confusion.

“Just sit.”

You sat down, and Daryl tossed one of his old shirt at your head.

“Put that one.”

He left the room, closing the door as he waited for you to call him back in when you were done.

When you called him back in, he stepped around you, turning the shower on, pointing the running water away from you for now.

You noticed the door to the shower was missing, you noticed as soon as you walked in, and you watched as Daryl pulled a towel from the top of the shower.

He draped it over your head, then took some of the clothes and soap that was sat next to you.

“Okay, there’s no way I smell this bad, I always shower.”

“Shut up, I’m cleaning your wings.”

“What?”

You went to move but the hands on your shoulders made you stop.

“You’re leaving behind so much crap, so I’m cleaning them, give me your left wing.”

“They don’t need cleaned.” You huffed.

Daryl ran his hand carefully over your wing and he leant down, showing you his palm to show you all the dirt and ash on it.

“Seriously? They don’t need cleaned huh?”

“No…”

“If you ain’t fixing ‘em I’m cleanin’ em.”

You mocked him, and he rolled his eyes, grabbing the shower head and directed the water at you before turning it away.

“Real mature Daryl, real mature.”

“Says you.”

He filled a bucket with the water, and put some soap in it, dropping a cloth inside and he ran his hand over the top of your wing.

“Just… be careful…” you mumbled.

“Course.”

“Start from the top, there’s probably a lot of loose feathers, you’ll have to take them out carefully, just pass them to me.”

“Yeah.”

You carefully angled your left wing into the shower for him, letting him run the shower over it first, the water turning black with how dirty your wing was.

Grabbing the cloth, he began running it over your wing, working from the top just like you told him too.

A few feathers had already come out, so he gathered them and handed them to you, letting you set them aside.

“Fuckin’ hell (Y/N), how long has it been since you cleaned them?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Couple of years maybe?”

“Couple?” He scoffed.

“Thousands…”

“Uh huh, that sounds ‘bout right.”

Daryl carried on cleaning your wing, working out the dirt from your feathers and the skin underneath, noticing a few holes here and there.

Your feathers were black, he realised that it wasn’t just the dirt making it that way.

It took him over an hour to nearly finish just one wing, he was sat down in the shower, not caring about getting his clothes wet.

He was very careful around the bones where you were missing the rest of your wing.

He was working his way towards the inside of your wing, near your back, and he set the cloth down, moving a few of your feathers aside.

“What is it?” You asked.

He let out a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff.

He touched the small golden feathers that were hiding underneath the black ones, and he covered them back up again.

“Nothin’. Give me your other wing.”

You turned a little bit, giving him the other wing and he began the same process.

He reached a sore spot on your wing and you pulled away, standing up and moving away from him.

“Hey, come on. It’s alright.”

You took a small breath, your eyes looking at his in slight fear.

Daryl stood up, trailing water as took a step closer towards you.

You turned your head away slightly, pressing your back against the wall.

Daryl noticed a few spots of blood on the tiles, and he looked at you.

“(Y/N), you’re not there. You’re in Alexandria. You’re at home. I think I reopened a cut on your wing, but you’re fine.”

Daryl raised his hands so you could see them.

“You’re okay…”

He took another step closer, and you seemed to regard him for a moment.

“Sorry…” you whispered.

Daryl sighed, walking over he took your face in his hands, and he ran his thumbs along your cheeks, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Stop apologising.” He said sternly.

You nodded your head, resting your forehead on his chest and he placed a hand on the back of your head.

Subconsciously you wrapped your wings around him slightly.

“Let me take a look.”

You nodded, sitting back at the edge of the shower.

It wasn’t a deep wound, more just a scratch he had accidentally reopened so he was extra careful when cleaning around it.

When he was done, he rinsed them and he grabbed another towel to carefully dry your wings for you.

“All done, move out the way.”

You got up, standing aside so he could kick the towels into a corner and rise all the dirt down the drain.

“Fuckin’ took half a day…”

“Didn’t have to clean them.” You mumbled.

He scoffed.

“Yeah, just let you keep tracking dirt everywhere.”

You waved your hand dismissively at him as you grabbed your shirt and jacket, leaving the room to go change back into them.

You stood in front of your mirror, looking at your wings.

They were looking a lot healthier, they had their shine back and you scowled a little bit.

“I hate it…” you whispered.

“Why?”

You looked to your door, you had left it cracked open slightly and Daryl was stood with his back to the door.

“Because it.. it shouldn’t… they shouldn’t be like this…”

You heard Daryl sigh heavily.

“They should, if you won’t heal them then fine. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you keep walking around with that crap on your head. Most of your pain woulda been all that crap you left on your wings.”

You furrowed your brows a little bit, and you moved your wings slightly, flexing them, stretching them out.

They were a lot less painful to move now.

“Seen it animals, shit gets stuck to the skin and pulls it.”

You looked at the cloth of feathers you brought in with you, and you walked over, looking through them.

Most of them were as black, but a few of them were gold tinted at the base.

“You should get changed.” You said.

He grunted, and you heard him walk away.

Looking through your things, you found a knife and some string, and you sat down in your bed.

It only took a few minutes, and you set your project down, holding a hand over all the others you burnt them.

Grabbing the cloth, you walked to the window and threw the ashes out of it, and tossed the cloth into the corner of the room.

Walking to the bed, you picked up what you had made and walked down the stairs, sitting on the couch as you looked at it.

You held it into your chest, and you looked as Daryl came through, a can of fruit in his hands as he sat down in the table in front of you.

“What’s that?”

“That’s gross Daryl, don’t talk while eating.”

He shrugged a little, shovelling more food into his mouth and you held the string, showing him what it was.

“For you. Take it if you want.”

He furrowed his brows a little.

“It.. it will let me know if you’re in danger…”

“Can look after myself.”

“I know.”

Reaching over, you set it down on the table next to him and stood up.

“Just… if you want it I guess… maybe you won’t want a gift from a demon but yeah…”

“Stop calling yourself that.”

“What?”

“Demon.”

You gave a small smile, and walked over to the door.

“It’s what I am.”

Daryl watched as you left.

He set the can down, picking up the necklace that you had made for him.

The feather you chose was mostly gold, meting into the black as it reached the tip of the feather.

You couldn’t picked any, you could’ve picked one with no gold at all but you didn’t, this was the one you wanted to give him.

He put the string over his head, and he tucked the feather into his shirt, hiding it so nobody could see it.

You were both still dancing around everything that had happened, your feelings for one another.

Even before that you were, but you were a little more open to expressing yours than he was, you always had been.

Maybe that’s why this was so hard on you, the fact that you cared so deeply for him, and now that everything had come to light you weren’t sure what to do.

Even now though you didn’t stray too far from him, you were either at the house, on the wall or with Balthazar just talking.

As you laid on the roof watching the stars that night, Daryl came to join you, laying himself down next to you.

“What are they?” He asked.

“Some celestial beings. Others planets.”

He nodded his head.

“They’re coming for you, ain’t they?”

“Yeah. Yeah they are.”

“Then what?”

You sighed a little.

“Either I give up, I fight them and win, or I fight them and die.”

“Nah.”

You looked over at Daryl.

“Nah?”

He looked at you and he grinned a little bit.

“Nah, I know you. Too stubborn to die.”

This made you laugh slightly, and you smiled softly at him.

The smile you used to smile at him, the smile he missed seeing but would never admit too.

“I guess we’ll see huh?”

He hummed, turning back to the sky, and you just laid there looking at him.

Your hand brushed against his, and he reached out, taking your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and you did the same thing.

“You got this.”

You turned away from him.

“What makes you so sure?”

“I’ll kick your ass if you don’t.”

You laughed again.

“I mean it, kick your ass right through hell and back.”

You scoffed.

“You couldn’t.”

“I could.”

“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that.”

He smirked a little, and he shuffled around, resting his head on your stomach and you brought your freehand up to his head, running your fingers through his hair.

“Daryl?” You asked quietly.

He hummed a little bit.

“I love you.”

He turned his head so he could look at you.

“I know.”

Daryl sat up, leaning down and kissed your forehead, making his way back inside while you stayed there.

You just watched the sky, watching as endless stars seemed to fall to the ground and you knew it was nearly time.

Sitting up, you looked down at Balthazar who was standing in front of the house.

Jumping down, you stood in front of him, and he held out his hand and you clasped your hand around his, holding it up to touch it to your forehead and he did the same time.

“This is it.” He said quietly.

“You remember the plan?”

He nodded.

“When the time calls for it I distract them so you can get way undetected… I use my powers to keep them safe…”

You nodded your head.

“This ends now.” You growled

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead imagine #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #Daryl Dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon imagine

[thehistoriangirl]

The Tides Have Veiled [Twelve]

This one took longer than expected jkjhdjkfjhjfh but with this chapter this second arc in the story is over :D

Viktor x Fem!Reader----3.8K-----SFW**

> MASTERLIST <- Previous // Next ->

Synopsis:  Piltover the Old has an old lighthouse that looms over an abandoned port. From the house in the wailing cliff’s edge, the lighthouse owner watches that the beacon is being lighten up each time darkness arrives, so that monsters wouldn't dare to crawl inland, or so legends say. Both buildings are haunted, maybe even the man himself, by both past and present ghosts. Surprisingly, the keeper’s work is beyond turning on the beacon every night— but the rest is on you to discover.

Chapter Summary: You're ready to leave your past life behind, but are you willing to face what the new one has in store for you?

Tags: Strangers to Lovers | Ghosts | Slow Burn | Forced Proximity | Spooky Imaginery | Verbal & Physical Violence against Reader** | Dysfunctional Family Dynamics** | Body Horror** |

Taglist: @lunar-monster @local-mr-frog @bittercyder @blissfulip

Twelve: Like the Blood that Runs Through Our Veins

You knew this path by memory.

All from walking day by day during years of carrying buckets filled with gutted fish and oysters that were sold in the market and some even sent to the city. The way back home to the beach was outlined with the swamp area that connected the forest uphill to the decline of the shoreline.

However, time changed everything, and the way back to the hut you once called home was no different.

Everchanging as the sea’s mood was, the muddy water from the swamp was deeper than usual, probably because of the storm of last night, with the bare roots of trees peeking under a light layer of mud and sand, there where the arid ground met with the incipient vegetation of the forest’s edge.

At another time, you would've thought about bringing something—a peace offering of sorts—once you walked down this way again. But time-pressured, and the voices of the funeral service echoed closer, just as the huff of burned wood.

With the clothes filled with oil and grease from cleaning the control panel, your hands felt warm despite the autumn wind as you’ve found solace in the power returning after lunchtime. The quiet, persistent purr of the motor coming to life again with the flash of golden light of the beacon filled the tortuous silence your mind tried to drown with the echoing sounds of the storm last night.

How must have been in the sea, the last sounds your uncle heard.

Even when you still had to check the wiring of the beacon itself, you sighed in relief. The mere thought of doing your watch in total darkness couldn’t be an option. And not only because Viktor wouldn’t be always there sleeping with you. But because the woman could chase you down this time, with the window broken.

You doubted the wood boards you nailed into the hole of the glass could help of much. And perhaps, now, you’d have another ghost join into the task to haunt you.

When the metallic gate of the lighthouse closed with a shriek, you were already regretting your decision. Maybe if Viktor were here, he could accompany you, using the townsfolk's fear of him to stop the anxiety pounding at your heart.

The treacherous dunes clung down your legs as if wanting to stop you from committing this mistake. But when you looked back at the dim light of the lighthouse rivaling with the sun’s, you knew you wouldn’t stand to return without at least saying your goodbyes.

You couldn’t do it with your mother, both because you were too small to process the idea of death, and because a funeral was just never held—with no body to mourn for, the family didn't wish to bring in the gossip of the town that had been buried after some initial police searches.

It was too late, anyway; the sandy beach morphed into the swampy area too quickly.

This will end with me. And today, after this goodbye, you were ready to leave behind your family name to hold onto Viktor’s: a fake one, just like the marriage façade you must put on, but it will allow you to start anew, as you wish.

Maybe this marriage will erase the curse your family name seemed to carry, that strange affinity the sea had to devour your kind. To wear down the hope and leave the soul raw, bare to the merciless sea.

Your boots echoed against the mud, the coast half-erased with the ravaging storm from last night. Specimens lying everywhere, observing you with their empty, dead eyes.

The same look in your uncle’s eyes, they whispered with each roll of the waves.

You looked over the mossy rocks nearby, many of them containing secret burrows for crabs, an area great to hunt them. Your grandfather would sit by the little uphill, watching you with diligent eyes as you lifted the rocks and snatched some crabs away, separating them from their family.

They were like you, and thus your childhood self couldn’t stand to let separate them, accidentally tumbling down the container when the old man wasn’t looking. It did matter, but at least crabs and shrimps weren't sold as expensive as langostas. And your grandpa invited you along despite your mishap every time.

She’s even useless for picking crabs. Your aunt would yell, turning the basket upside down as if somehow a little crab would be hiding there. I could do a better job when I was half her age!

Over the still surface of a shallow pond, you saw your reflection and thought: If could’ve done better… No, I didn’t kill him. I’m not a monster. No, I can’t be. Am I?

The funeral pyre was starting to burn, though you couldn’t be sure if the thick black smoke was the cause of your tears. A pile with your uncle’s clothes and material things your aunt didn’t want to keep around in the house were all turning into ashes alongside his flesh and bones—of what was left of him, you thought, dreary.

Maybe I am.

Better the fire to consume it rather than let the water take more of him.

As you approached, the cries became persistent, clearer. The wails echoed from the same sadness as the ones that could be heard from the cliff, though this time, the voice was much more familiar.

People all dressed in black gathered around the pyre, long veils covering their expressions as they stood still except for the wind flapping against their long coats, skirts, and sweaters. Among them, you saw the mundane, worn-out chair with the red cushion your grandfather used for dining, now with your grandma sitting there, and for a moment time froze. Reverted.

You were still a child, with hands so small the rusty bucket filled with seashells was too heavy, just as the burning sensation of the watchful gaze of your aunt as you cleaned them. A trapped child whose only life was the sea and this little hut in front of you, just like those unfortunate oysters you caught, still inside their homes that had become a prison.

Some blinked, and the sight was gone. Instead of your child ghost huddled against your grandmother’s feet against the fire, it was the body of your aunt as her cries tore the heavy, pitiful silence of the rest of the guests. And yet, despite the veil and the eyes drowned with tears, she saw you. Maybe even felt you there.

“You…” she said, her voice so low the crackling of the fire almost extinguished it. “YOU!”

The aunt stumbled to stand up, sprinting toward you with a renovated force that could only come from hopelessness and raging heartache. You ran away, the muddy soil slippery, making your aunt tangle her skirts and fall in with her grunt becoming a sob.

“You… you always take everything from me…” she wept, hands pulling away the veil covering her face as she threw it at you like the spirit of a bad omen, laying at your feet, slowly soaking in the water. “First, my sister… and then, my husband…”

Your aunt’s blue eyes were now red, streaks of dry tears tattooed on her face with new ones pouring down against her puffy, red cheeks. Compared to the authoritative and cold-hearted woman who never faltered to remind you which your place in the house was, she looked so small. So broken.

Did your mother look like this when she decided to end it all?

“I’m sorry…” you started. I’m a killer… a monster… were you?Did you even owe her an apology? Or did she owe you one?

Albeit your quiet tone, your aunt heard it, and it was like putting gasoline into the pyre.

She screamed at you, her voice raw and desperate as she dug her fingers into the mud, seizing some rocks from the shoreline.

“No, no, Zara! She’s your niece!” Your grandma pleaded, but Aunt Zara had already started to throw the rocks in your direction, her anger and grief making her miss her objective—much to your luck. “Zara!”

The mud was freezing,  letting a chill cling against your clothes as it flew with the rocks barely brushing by.

“Alyssa should have never had you! She would be still alive if it weren’t for you! MY HUSBAND WOULD BE STILL ALIVE!”

Zara scrambled around the muddy soil, fingers digging to find any rock she could, trying to lift even the heavy ones, making her wobble as if she were drunk, and perhaps she was. “You and that damned husband!”

She laughed, her upper lip curved in an almost animalistic snarl. “Damned husband, damned wife,” Zara spat. “I can’t wait for the time when you too get claimed by the sea…”

With the rest of the townsfolk watching, you didn't have any other choice than to run away, mind fogged as your inner monologue screamed how stupid were you to think you had any right to be there. That there was a purpose in your presence besides rubbing salt on a newly made wound.

You grabbed the tree trunks, disappearing into the thick foliage of the forest uphill, grabbing branch after branch to try to win a race against the dusk that was starting to bleed on the horizon. Your clothes were soaked, weighing down with mud.

Now you look like the ghost roaming Viktor’s house, your mind told you, perhaps the waves crashing into the shore. It made your blood freeze, a rock settled inside your heart. I have to return home.

Where was home, anyway?

To escape from your aunt’s fit of rage, you entered the forest, knowing that you could make a detour around the woods to arrive home, to peek toward the backyard dock.

Tree branches clung to your clothes, leaves brushing your face with the loving touch of comfort you wouldn't find with your said family, nor one you dared to ask Viktor.

In the distance, like a little dollhouse that had seen better days, you saw the little hut surrounded by bushes and low trees, a makeshift dock of mossy logs tied together with rotting rope, though the blue boat chipping off painting wasn't there.

Following the flow of water, you went further down to the abandoned part of the coastline where some settlements had been abandoned after the terrible flood that almost wiped out the whole town.

Mermaid’s tears… or mermaid’s blood, it depended on the story.

Big boulders had been smoothed out by the waves through the years, making the sand around it so slippery you must use some roots to climb down the little hill, looking among the beach, with the cracking sound of broken shells under your boots, some fragments of bloated wood pushed against the eroded rock.

And there it was, the family fishing boat, or what was left of it. With its chipped-off blue painting surface dotted with moss and barnacles—almost nothing of the blue was left, just as the little girl who painted it was gone, too, the one who thought that there was a tone of blue that could match the ever-changing hue of the sea, so the fish couldn’t see the boat coming.

Now the surviving boards of woods had been spat out by the hungry sea, satisfied momentaneously with the sacrifice, not of memories, but of lives.  

You walked slowly, not wanting to slip and hit your head with a rock, as you weren’t sure if someone would care if you didn’t return to the lighthouse—you didn’t want to think about how Viktor wouldn’t notice if you were there or not, with the beacon already turned on.

The wood was amorph and bloated by the water, but the marks were unmistakable.

At first, you thought the boat had crashed into one of the cliffsides, the impact of the wind so strong that made the fishermen tumble down and die from a concussion. But these were claw marks.

The boat had been torn apart, with dark marks of dry blood seeping into the grooves and inside the hull.

You tripped, hands grabbing the gunwale in an attempt to keep balance, though all you did was push the boat away.

Falling to your knees, the sharp edges of broken shells pierced your skin, and you couldn't stop imagining the clean water nearby starting to tint crimson red, the metallic odor of blood tingling in your nose.

What was that? A shark? A killer whale? Why were you thinking about that ghostly dorsal spine from your first watch over the beacon? What was that?

“Why haven’t I seen it again?” you muttered, standing up on wobbly feet as you inspected the boat. You were surprised your aunt hadn’t set it on fire, too, but perhaps it was cursed now. Claimed by the sea.

You knelt against the hull again, embracing the cold wood as if had been the body of your aunt, of your grandma, of your mother, if they had let you get closer. Tears prickled in your eyes, and you let yourself sob, every whimper shaking your body as if it had been torn up straight from your heart.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I’m sorry uncle…” you cried against your arm, embarrassed someone could see you like these for somebody that was so adamant about selling you off.

The wind was getting colder, navy blue taking over the oranges in the sky; today it didn’t seem like a storm would approach, but the sky could be lying, and you were too distracted from the burning sensation of the sobs in your throat to care about the breeze hitting your face, not knowing if it was spray from the tides or a drizzle.

Waves leaped lazily, receding with the new moon, a new surface of dark brown sand bared in front of you. Looking down, you started to push the rest of the boat toward the sea, where they would get lost forever. That shall be your funeral.

From between the tears, you saw a dark silhouette settled in the corner of your vision as if it had emerged from the water. Amorph, too long, too… familiar.

You looked back at it. It was the shadow of a person; their clothes were tattered, algae clinging to their limbs. The shadow then looked back at you with a pair of empty sockets. The midnight hair was glued to the skull, skin washed from its warmth with an almost blue hue around the neck and over the bloated cheeks.

“Un… uncle?” you muttered, recognizing the features albeit corrupted by the water.

The figure stiffened, and you felt its heavy glare, burning in your chest. It itched in the back of your neck as if you were surrounded. Outnumbered by death.

The beacon swept over the beach, a hue dim enough to let you see, between dangerous blinks, the ghost’s jaw going unslaked, a thick, dark liquid running down his lips into his neck, there where the otherwise normal curve was interrupted with the marks of a four-finger claw, all oozing rotten blood.

You did this to me… the rosary held in honor of your uncle mumbled, solemn voice carried by the wind. More than prayers, they heard more like curses.

Now it’s your turn.

The ghost started running toward you at full speed, a scream tearing from the bottom of your throat.

Your feet got stuck in the wet sand as you tried to run as fast as you could, the boat now getting in the middle of you two. The ghost lounged, his body pushing the wood that cracked under his weight.

You had to run with your eyes locked on him, too scared to look forward and be surprised by a cold pair of hands pulling you back. The ghost pushed the boat out of the way, the wood scrapped against the bed of broken shells as it slid toward the sea.

“Please! Please help!” you screamed, the lights in your former home all still on. But the chants never stopped, instead, with each leap away from the wreckage, the noise got higher and higher. “PLEASE!”

The hit of your back against a rock poking from the ground made you breathless, and your right leg scrapped by the surface. You scrambled on four legs in a useless attempt to surround the rock and continue your way up the lighthouse, but the scrap was bleeding too much, the hot pain not masked by the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

The ghost loomed over you, his bloated, broken legs standing in front of you, leaking a mix of dark blood and stagnant water. The blue lips of your uncle curved in a wicked grin, the flesh corrupted opening with a repulsive tearing sound.

From behind, he unveiled a rusty knife. “Now it’s your turn, child.”

Your eyes widened, recognizing the red blade that absorbed the light of the passing beacon.

It seemed you weren’t wrong about the ghosts having a liking to hunt you.

You dragged yourself away, taking a rock and throwing it at the ghost, tearing more flesh, now a black trace of blood leaving behind his every step that got almost hidden by the growing mist coming from the sea.

Your fingers grabbed a round shell, the only sizeable weapon at hand. This time, the hit landed on his forehead. The ghost scrambled backward, screaming in a fit of rage that made your ears hurt.

Standing up, you had to decide where to go, if risking climbing up the stairs knowing that the ghost could outrun you now that you had an injured leg and with the ever-present danger of tripping down amidst the darkness.

It was too late when you tried to climb the stairs, the ghost already at your heels. Throwing yourself at the beach, you fell into a tidepool, the freezing water clinging to your bones.

The ghost followed, his feet standing close to the edge of the water, yet not daring to step on it. It leaned toward you, knife grabbed in one hand as his teeth gnashed. It wasn’t coming closer…

You closed your eyes, hands curved in a makeshift bowl, deciding to throw some saltwater at him to see what occurred.

The water splashed away the algae, revealing the blue skin underneath, spotted with moss and other fungi. Then, the features started to melt, skin peeled like the old wallpaper that covered the lighthouse before you came into the picture. Beneath your uncle's face were the decrepit features of the woman from the window.

She leaned toward you despite your best efforts from sliding away, the shells and rocks clinging to your clothes, to keep you in place. The same black eyes oozed stagnant water, like tears.

"Don't tell me you don't remember the face of your dear mother, my dear daughter?" She said, the loose bones of her neck snapping when her head lolled to the side at an unnatural angle.

… Mother? “N-no, no…”

The same predatory smile. If it weren’t for you, your Alyssa would still be alive… Was it loathe what you evocated in your mother, even after her death?

“Is that so?” She clicked her blue tongue. “Disappointed in me. Well, it’s of no use. The feeling is mutual, darling.” The woman raised the knife, looking at it with an almost bored gaze. "I think it's your turn to pay the price of your freedom."

“No!” You rolled away, the edge of the knife whistling in the air near your ear. Saltwater flooded your vision when you crawled toward the sea, where the waves started to sway in an infinite of blackness.

“Come here, child… You can’t escape from your blood!” she yelled, her hands trying to seize your ankle, hissing when the upcoming wave touched her skin. The ghost’s nails drew four red lines across your leg, taking ahold of your boot until you could shake it off your feet.

The cold clung to every bone in your body, each kick and armful becoming lethargic due to the pull of the chill of the autumn sea. You knew you’d die from hypothermia if you didn’t get to nearby dry soon, but the ghost stayed by the coast, just in the boundary of the beach, watching.

Looking around, you decided to swim toward the cliff—in a stupid attempt to climb through one of its faces, or at least fade trying. The ghost rolled her head, dark hair covering one of her eyes, and yet, her glare burned at your back, hands shivering from both cold and fear once you grabbed the rough surface of the rock.

Your breath heaved as if trying to call for Viktor. Would he hear you? Would he come? But no, you didn’t wish to put him in danger with this vengeful ghost nearby.

Between the watch of the lighthouse, you saw a hole carved in the rock, with only a foot of the entrance submerged in water. Maybe there could be a crevice big enough for you to fit until morning. A shiver ran down your spine at remembering that pale dorsal spine. You didn’t wish to be in the hunting range of that creature.

Huffing your condensed breath in front of you as you took a good handler in the rock to pull yourself up, toes scrapping the vertical rock as you crawled inside the pitch-black cavern, deeper until you couldn’t see the ghost that had remained still by the coast.

With no light, there was no way to rummage the passage, but… there, in the distance, was a dim purple hue. Buzzing. Calling.

Looking back, you saw the ghost walking toward the edge of the cliff, where the ground disappeared into the water. Her green dress got soaked, and she screamed in rage when she had to stumble to her back, the open wounds in her legs surrounded by a thick black smoke reeking of rot between the salty marine air.

You decided to follow the light, trying to run away from the stench that made your eyes cry and your stomach turn.

Each step echoed in the hallway of the cavern until the lull of the sea was but a faint lull inside the chamber bathed in purple light coming from the carving runes in the walls. Dusty books lay on shelves made in the rock. Freeze in time, in a sacred place you shouldn’t supposed to be.

Peeking around the convex chamber, you saw another well of darkness at the center of it, a small yet seemingly bottomless pool that smelled strange, not like sea per se, though the salt was still perceptible in the air, but the ambiance was heavy, mixing dry flowers and other essences like burning candles. It smelled… old.

What was this place?

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