#I also think there’s so much beauty and horror to be found in even simple humans

[ohno-the-sun]

I cannot express how much I love the human bois I live and thrive off of their beauty

I also am in love with the human boys I will defend and love every human au aaaa

Here are some mad scientist au doodles as humans cause why not

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Deborah Kerr (Bonjour Tristesse, An Affair to Remember, The King and I)— For several decades she held the record for most Oscar nominations without a win (6 in total), and she was a prolific leading lady throughout the 40s and 50s. She's best known today for the romance An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant, and as the governess in The King and I. Many people have this erroneous perception of her as extremely prim, proper, and virginal, but this could not be further from the truth. When she first came to Hollywood under MGM she was typecast into boring decorative roles, but broke sexual boundaries for herself and Hollywood generally in From Here to Eternity, when she made out (horizontally!) with Burt Lancaster (on top of him!) in the famous Beach Scene. She went on to play many sexually conflicted women, a character type that would define most of her post- Eternity work. She continued to break Hays Code boundaries with Tea and Sympathy, which addresses homosexuality/homophobia head-on, and even did a topless scene in The Gypsy Moths 1969!! One of the only classic stars to do so. She deserves a more nuanced and frankly a hotter legacy than she currently has!!!

Ethel Merman (Anything Goes, Call Me Madam)— Possessed of a bold, brash voice, and an even bolder and brasher presence, Ethel Merman might be more well known for her stage roles, but she made several movies, and was bold and brash in them as well. Also I think if I don't submit her, she's going to come back and haunt me.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Ethel Merman:

You've gotta love any woman who got typecast as lead-MILF

Deborah Kerr:

I think she was one of my first crushes before I realised I was bi in The King and I when I watched it as a kid honestly. The kissing scene in From Here to Eternity is iconic for a reason. Actually tried to learn the accents for the characters she was playing if they weren't English which is more than pretty much anyone else was doing then. Played very restrained characters who frequently seemed to be desperate not to be so restrained. Did horror movies without venturing into hagsploitation tropes. Gave Marni Nixon the credit she deserved for her share of the singing in The King and I.

Anne Larsen is a peak late 1950s bisexual with big MILF energy. Have you seen the behind the scenes pics of her wearing a suit?? Have you????? Vote Deb as Anne Larsen.

Nominated for an Oscar six (6) times and never won, but besides her having actual talent (hot), and besides her looking Like That (very hot, also beautiful), she was always playing women who are, like, crazy repressed. Which makes it fun and easy for me to read these characters as queer. Icon!!!! You know what's hot? Playing ambiguously gay in vintage Hollywood.

Her face and talent and body, yes, ofc, duh. But also!!! Her HANDS!!!! I may be but a simple lesbian, but she is the best hactor (hand actor) that ever lived and that's HOT! For propriety's sake I feel I must redact a large portion of my commentary on this subject. Anyway. She's hot in her most famous roles (mentioned above), and also some of her sexiest hacting is on display in An Affair to Remember (her hand on the bannister when Cary Grant kisses her off-screen??? HELLO???), Tea and Sympathy (when she's trying to persuade Tom not to go out and she keeps flexing her hands like she wants to reach out to him but can't??? ALLY BEHAVIOR! WE STAN!), and The Innocents (which opens and closes with extended shots of her hands bc director Jack Clayton was also an ally and he did that for ME). Much of her appeal also lies in the fact that she often played deeply repressed characters and you know what's hot? When those uptight characters finally unravel. It's sexy. It's cathartic. It's erotic. Plus, she's beautiful to look at in both black & white and technicolor, and the more of her films you see, the more you can't help but fall in love!

Literally is in thee most famously sexy scene of all time (or maybe just during the hays code era which is what we're talking about HELLO), which is the beach scene with Burt Lancaster in from here to eternity. To quote a tumblr post of a screen capture of a tweet of a video of joy behar on the view: "y'know, there used to be movies where they were kissing on the beach... From Here to Eternity. They're kissing-- Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are Kissing on the Beach and then the WAVES crash!! You know exactly what they did!"

She might have a reputation of being chaste and virginal or whatever, but we all know it's the quiet ones who are certifiable FREAKS

[lewmagoo]

million dollar man | rhett abbott

description: in which a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy rescues a young waitress who’s down on her luck

listen to the spotify playlist here!

warnings: 18+ ONLY, age gap (rhett is in his mid 40s, reader is in their 20s), mentions of sex work, workplace harassment, financial troubles, a little ageism, smoking, unprotected p in v sex, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamic, degradation, overstimulation, squirting, begging, choking, creampie, i think that's it?

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

notes: this is one of my longest stories to date. it started out as a simple smut scene and then it turned into an entire backstory. rhett has gray hair in this because i said so. i'm also dedicating this to my fellow old man fucker in arms, @rhettabbotts <3

It was late July. The air was hot and sticky, but the crystal water of the swimming pool was cool on your exposed skin as you sank down into its depths. 

You couldn’t help but let out a long, blissed-out sigh, your eyes drifting shut at the feeling of the ripples washing over you. You couldn’t remember a time in your entire life when you’d felt this relaxed and at ease. Not a care in the world, floating through the water as if you were suspended in a dream. 

And you were, really. A dream that had been made a reality by the man sitting just a few feet away from you, cigarette smoke swirling around him like a halo as the sunlight illuminated his figure, making him appear like an angel. And as far as you were concerned, he was just that: an angel. One who had saved your very life. 

Rhett Abbott was a very powerful man. You couldn’t fully wrap your mind around just how powerful he was. It was something he never discussed with you, insisting that he didn’t want his demons tainting you. 

While he had always been nothing but loving and kind to you, you had witnessed the ruthless side of him a few times, namely when he’d rescued you from your old life. 

Rhett had come rolling into town in his Silverado, just passing through, and he met you at the hole-in-the-wall diner you waitressed at. You’d never forget seeing him for the first time. Tall and broad, tan Stetson balanced atop his head. A pair of worn Levi’s with a white T-shirt on top. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. 

He took his hat off as he took a seat at the counter, revealing a head of graying hair that sent your heart quickening in your chest. Then he smiled at you. You shyly offered him a menu, but he shook his head. “I’ll jus’ have a black coffee, ‘n two eggs, over easy. Toast, bacon, whatever you put on your usual breakfast plates. Please and thank ya.”

His voice caught your attention. Deep and low in his throat, lilted with an accent you couldn’t quite place. But it was clear he was from out west, that much you could tell. 

“Of course! Anything else?” You asked as you scribbled his order down on your pad. 

He considered it for a moment and then he said, “Some jam for the toast, if it ain’t a bother.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his politeness, despite his rough exterior. His shining blue eyes were gentle as they regarded you, and you found yourself distracted by them. You’d never seen eyes so blue. They looked like the ocean. You’d never been, but you’d seen pictures of water that was so blue it was breathtaking. His eyes were even prettier than that. 

“C-comin’ right up,” you finally responded, realizing you were allowing your mind to wander. 

You turned and put your order in with the cook before you quickly moved to pour a cup of coffee. Everything was going just fine until you turned and miss-stepped, sending yourself careening forward. To your utter horror, the mug of coffee slipped from your hands and hit the counter, splashing all over the man, effectively staining his white shirt. 

You gasped sharply, steadying yourself before your hand shot up to cover your mouth. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! Are you alright?! Did it burn you?!” You were shifting into a panic, scrambling to grab a handful of bar towels you kept behind the counter. You rushed around, intending to help the man clean up the mess. 

You were so wrapped up in your panic that you didn’t realize that he wasn’t angry with you at all. You were simply so used to customers, and your manager, being rude to you that you just expected a hostile reaction. 

But just as you approached him, he slowly stood, and suddenly, a pair of steady hands were resting over top of your own. You looked up in surprise, only to find those crystal blues gazing steadily down at you. 

“Hey now, don’t fret none, it was just an accident,” he assured you, and the deep velvet of his voice calmed you instantly, bringing you back to yourself, renewing your focus. 

You stared at him in confusion. “I just spilled hot coffee on you, and you aren’t angry?”

He shook his head, gently taking the bar towels from you to dab at the stain himself. “Ain’t no use gettin’ angry over somethin’ you didn’t do on purpose. I got plenty more of these white shirts where this one came from. And I’ve had worse injuries than a measly little burn from some hot coffee. I’m fine. Promise.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, your tense shoulders falling relaxed. “Oh, thank goodness. I really am sorry, though. I’m so clumsy.”

He moved to wipe up the mess from the counter, completely unbothered by it. But he was bothered, however, by the implications of your response. “You have people get angry at you often?” He asked. 

You paused, considering your answer. “Well…some of the men that come in here aren’t very nice. Cranky truckers and whatnot. If you make a mistake they tend to get pissed and take it out on you. And my…” you glanced around to make sure no one was listening, “boss, he’s not the nicest guy out there. He says I’m too clumsy for my own good.”

Something flashed in those blue eyes. You swore they darkened a shade. “Huh. Well, they’re all fuckin’ assholes. You’re just doin’ your job.”

You were floored by his behavior. You’d expected him to insult you for your mistake, to call you some degrading name, like you’d been called so many times before. But instead, he’d offered you kindness and understanding. 

“Thank you,” you earnestly replied. 

He shrugged, taking a seat again on the stool he’d previously been perched upon. “‘s basic human decency to be nice to your fuckin’ waitress. ‘specially when she might have half a mind to spit in your food if you treat her like shit,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

You couldn’t help but smile at that, finally turning to gather up the coffee-stained towels and rounding the counter again. As you tossed the towels in a bucket nearby so you could wash them later, the cowboy leaned forward, still eyeing you. 

“I’m Rhett, by the way,” he informed you. 

You shyly gave him your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you,” you said. 

“Likewise,” he echoed. His exterior seemed so rough. There was a tattoo of a steer skull inked into the skin of his left forearm. His face was fixed with hard lines, and although he still appeared youthful, you could tell he was older. Mid to late forties, if you had to guess. His eyes held untold stories, things he’d experienced that had turned him into the rough man he was today. But his exterior was misleading, because behind it, he was warm and kind. 

You didn’t know it then, but this was the start of something bigger than you ever could have imagined. This man, with his ocean-blue eyes and velvet voice, would soon become your knight in shining armor. 

Until then, the spell between you was quickly broken when you heard “Order up!” which caused you to jump in surprise. 

You giggled softly at your own jitteriness, and quickly turned to retrieve Rhett’s food from the serving window, thanking Anton, the cook, as you did so. “Here you go! Need anything else?”

“Just a coffee refill,” he replied with a knowing smile. 

“Oh! Of course! Sorry, I got so distracted!” You exclaimed in embarrassment as you hurried to pour him another cup of coffee, this time making sure not to spill it on him. 

“Thank y’ kindly,” Rhett said. 

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything else!” 

You busied yourself with sorting clean coffee mugs back into their respective stacks, all while Rhett tucked into his food. You found yourself wanting to speak to him further, to ask him questions about himself, but you were afraid of being a bother, and you were afraid you were misreading his kindness as an invitation to talk to him. 

He’s just being nice, you thought. He doesn’t actually want to talk to me. 

Besides, your boss, Martin, was just in the back. If he saw you bothering a customer he’d flip his lid and use it as an excuse to yell at you. It didn’t take much to piss him off, and for whatever reason, he seemed to particularly have it out for you. The least he was involved, the better. 

Some might question why you kept this job if you were being mistreated by your boss. The fact of the matter was, you had no choice. You were desperately trying to keep up with your living expenses and rent to avoid being evicted from your home. You were severely behind on your utility bills, to the point where the city was going to start shutting things off if you didn’t pay up. 

You were living paycheck to paycheck, barely staying afloat. This waitressing job was the only one you could get in this tiny town, and you didn’t have the time or resources to go hunting for a better-paying job. This was your lot in life, and you were trying to make due. However, you weren’t sure how much longer you could go on. 

You tried your best to keep your head down and do your job, but with the way your boss behaved, and the way this town seemed to have it out for you, it was difficult. You seemed to have garnered a reputation, and you weren’t quite sure how it had started. You heard the way people talked about you when they thought you weren’t listening. Whispers of what you got up to after the sun went down. Accepting money from men in return for sexual acts. 

The truth was, you were not involved in sex work. The only thing you could think might have started the rumor was the fact that Luke Jones, the sheriff’s one and only deputy, had propositioned you for sex once, and when you turned him down, he went off the rails and berated you in front of the whole diner. He must have decided to spread rumors about you behind your back, which had done great harm to your image, and changed the way people treated you. If the cops said you were bad news, everyone believed them, 

You hated this tiny, conservative Christian town, but you were trapped with no escape. 

Rhett Abbott was the first person who’d been genuinely kind to you in a long time. There was no judgment in his eyes as he looked upon you. Not even after you’d embarrassed yourself and spilled his coffee. It made your heart warm in your chest, and you decided that maybe this work shift wasn’t so bad after all. 

Then he was asking you for a coffee refill and you were trying to hide your smile as you turned to grab the well-used coffee pot.

“Thanks,” he said with a nod and a crooked smile. It made your knees weak. 

But the spell between you was soon broken by the sound of your name being gruffly spoken. You jumped, nearly spilling the coffee you were still holding. Rhett watched you, his eyes narrowing as you scrambled to put the carafe back in its place and rush to the back. 

There was a man back there, and just by the time of his voice, Rhett could tell he was no good. He put two and two together and realized the man was your boss, who you’d already mentioned having a short fuse. 

Rhett was a lot of things. He’d committed acts he wasn’t proud of. He had many enemies. There were those who would pay money to see him dead. But one thing he was not, was an abuser. He didn’t mistreat people just for the hell of it. And just from interacting with you, and seeing the way you reacted when you spilled his coffee, he could tell you had suffered a lifetime of mistreatment. 

And that was when he found himself considering something he never thought he’d do. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he’d been bashed in the head one too many times. Either way, he wondered if you would let him take you away from all of it. 

He wasn’t sure why he was so enamored by you. He’d only just met you, and if he offered to take you away right then and there, he was sure you would say no. So he didn’t say anything. But he decided that he was going to remain in this godforsaken town a few more nights, just to see how things played out. 

He hadn’t done much good in his life, but if he could rescue you from your unfortunate circumstances, maybe it would make up for all the years of sin and wickedness. Maybe he could do right by you. Give you the life you deserved, protect you from harm, give you freedom. 

Until then, he wouldn’t jump the gun. He would wait patiently, and swoop in when you needed him to. Although, now seemed like a pretty good time to do that. He could hear your boss shouting, and it sent heat boiling beneath his skin. 

But he resisted the urge to go back there and tear the man apart. He didn’t want to scare you, and such a reaction would be overkill, especially when he’d only known you all of forty-five minutes. 

A few minutes later, you came back to the front, very obviously trying to make it look like you hadn’t been crying. At that point, Rhett had finished his food, and when you saw it, you quietly spoke to him. 

“All ready to finish and pay?” You asked, avoiding eye contact. 

Rhett leaned forward over the counter, lowering his voice. “Shouldn't let ‘im treat you that way.”

You paused, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes. You managed to lift your gaze to his, your bottom lip quivering. “I have no choice. It’s either work this job, or end up on the street.”

I could take you away from all this. Those were the words on the top of his tongue. But he refrained. Now wasn’t the time. “Yeah, well, he’s a goddamned prick. Y’ deserve better.”

You stared at him for a moment, your heart aching in your chest. His kindness and understanding were unfathomable to you. Why on earth was he being so nice? And that’s when your brain threw a negative thought at you that made everything come to a screeching halt. What if he was only being kind because he wanted something? He didn’t seem like a creep, and he hadn’t made you feel uncomfortable in the slightest. But what if he was just good at hiding it?

“Why are you being so nice to me?” The words came out before you could stop yourself. 

Rhett leaned back in his seat, grabbing his Stetson before he rose to stand. “Because you look like you could use some kindness. And I don’t believe in mistreatin’ service workers just for the hell of it.”

He dug out his wallet and tossed a $100 bill onto the counter, which more than covered his measly $10 meal charge. Your eyes went wide, and you looked up at him just as he placed his hat on his head. “Keep the change. Buy yourself somethin’ nice.”

Then he was gone, leaving you flabbergasted in the middle of the diner. “Ninety fuckin’ dollars,” you whispered to yourself in amazement, referring to your tip. You snatched the bill off the counter and quickly rang it up, placing the money beneath the cash tray to be put in the safe later, and taking out $90 in cash for yourself. He told you to keep it, so that was what you were going to do. 

You thought that night would be the last time you ever saw Rhett Abbott. Thought that he appeared like one of those guardian angels you’d heard people talk about, just to give you a little help along the way, before disappearing into thin air.

But the very next night, he walked through the door of the diner again, and your heart began to race in your chest. He was real. Flesh and blood, standing right in front of you. 

He looked just as good as he had the previous night. Except this time, he’d ditched his coffee-stained white shirt in favor of a blue button down, tucked into his jeans with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his strong forearms, that steer tattoo still on display. 

He took his hat off and sat at the bar, and he gave you that crooked smile of his. It made your knees weak, and you set down the stack of plates you were carrying just so you didn’t drop them. 

The diner had a few customers that night, so you couldn’t focus all of your attention solely on him. Nor could you talk freely, for fear of other patrons overhearing. 

But he was still as charming as ever. “Hey,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “miss me?”

Actually, yes. “I thought you were just passing through,” you said. 

He shrugged, resting his elbows on the counter. “Changed my mind.” He held eye contact with you, and it made your heart race. 

You shook off your dazed expression and whipped out your order pad. “What’ll you have?”

“How’s your French toast?” He asked. So he was a big fan of breakfast for dinner, it seemed. 

You shrugged. “It’s pretty good. I’d recommend the pancakes though, Anton makes the batter from scratch and they’re fluffier than a cloud.”

Rhett’s smile grew wider. “Alright then, I’ll have a stack of ‘em. With a couple of scrambled eggs this time. And black coffee.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “Sure thing. And I’ll try not to spill the coffee on you this time.”

That smile turned into a grin. “Thanks, ‘preciate it.”

That was, unfortunately, as far as your interaction went. You handed him his coffee and then got whisked away to serve food to other customers. A family of five walked in, and seeing as how you were the only waitress on the current shift, you had to take care of them. 

Rhett noticed this, and his brow furrowed. It was hardly fair that you had to do all of this by yourself. Where were the other waitresses?

When you made your way back to the counter to grab his order and hand it to him, he stopped you with a question. “You’re doin’ all this by yourself? Where’s your help?”

You grimaced. “There’s usually only two of us working at night but the other girl has been sick in the hospital so she’s called off a few nights in a row. My boss won’t hire anyone else either so it’s all on me.”

“The more you tell me bout that son’bitch, the more I don’t like him,” Rhett grumbled. 

You shrugged. “Just somethin’ I gotta deal with. You need anything else?”

He wanted to continue the conversation, but he didn’t want to keep you from your work and get you in trouble, so he simply requested some pancake syrup and let you get back to your duties. 

That night, as he left the diner, he gave you another large tip, and you cried over it, not understanding why he would do such a thing. In this place, you were lucky to even get a dollar or two as a tip. 

After those first two nights, Rhett quickly became a regular. Each night he’d walk through the doors, take a seat at the counter, and order breakfast for dinner. And each night, you’d talk to him, and find yourself growing more and more enamored with him with each passing hour. He continued to leave large tips, and it made you think that he had to be rich. No one could afford to throw money around like that. 

But it didn’t feel appropriate to ask him about his money, so you kept your questions to yourself. You fell into a routine of expecting his presence every night, and appreciating those generous tips.

The entire time, however, Rhett was watching you, and he noticed a few things. Of course, there was the way your boss treated you. But he also noticed how some of the customers treated you. They were impatient and short with you, and it only served to make you more frazzled, resulting in a few mistakes on your part. 

You would always apologize profusely and come back to the counter holding back tears. It sent the heat of anger blossoming through Rhett’s chest. He couldn’t stand to watch this much longer. And thankfully, he didn’t, because his opportunity to give you a better life came one night when the diner was particularly busy. 

A group of younger men, one of which wore a deputy’s uniform, were picking on you. They would make comments each time you tended to their table, and Rhett caught wind of every word. Their behavior filled him with such rage that he took his hand off of his coffee cup, for fear that he would crush it in his own grasp, just from his anger. 

He was tempted to step in, but he waited. The next time you walked up to the counter, he caught you. “I can take care of them assholes for ya,” he offered. 

“What?” You asked, unsure of what ‘take care of’ meant in this context. 

“Teach ‘em how to be respectful. ‘Cause they sure as hell ain’t respectin’ you right now. ‘Specially that fuckin’ cop.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. They’re just playing around. Don’t pay attention to them,” you brushed it off. But he could tell it was bothering you. 

The final straw happened when you walked back over to their table, and one of them stuck out his leg and purposely tripped you. You let out a yelp of surprise and went down. Thankfully, you were only carrying a pitcher of water, but the water went everywhere, including all over your white top. 

Quick as a flash, Rhett Abbott stood up. “Enough!” His voice boomed through the diner, and everyone went dead silent, including the boys who’d been picking on you. 

The cowboy approached the table, kneeling to reach for your hands. He locked eyes with you and calmly asked, “You okay?”

When you nodded, he pulled you to your feet, and without hesitation, he shrugged out of his denim jacket and put it around your shoulders so no one would be able to see through your wet shirt.

“Go outside,” he said to you. 

“But-”

His piercing eyes caught your gaze. “Go. Trust me.”

And you did. Maybe you were foolish for it, listening to this man you’d only known for the better part of a week. But when Rhett told you to trust him, you somehow knew you could. You hugged his jacket to your body and you walked out of the building and into the cool night. 

Back inside, Rhett was seething. He stared at the group of men, and without a word, he reached across the table and grabbed the napkin canister, yanking the top off and dumping the stack of napkins into the lap of the deputy. “Clean up the mess,” Rhett gruffed. 

The boys snickered. “Not my fault this place has clumsy waitresses,” Luke, the deputy, said. 

Rhett growled, and suddenly, he had Luke by the collar. “Clean up the fuckin’ mess!” He barked. Then he slammed the man back down into his seat.

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, jumping back out of his seat as Rhett marched back to the counter to grab his hat. “You realize you just assaulted an officer of the law?!”

Rhett remained silent as he fished out his wallet and pulled out a single $10 bill, slamming it down on the counter. Then he turned, his eyes dark and stormy. 

“I don’t give a shit. Next time, I’ll do a lot worse.” Then he put his hat on his head and sauntered outside. 

He found you leaning against the outside wall, and when you saw him, you wiped at your cheeks, trying to hide the tears. He sighed softly, boots crunching against gravel as he neared you. 

“Thanks for that,” you whispered. 

“Mm,” he hummed in response. You were both quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “Listen, maybe I’m bein’ too forward, maybe I’m fuckin’ crazy, but what if I said I could take you away from all this?”

You looked at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. He was as serious as could be. “What?”

“I could. I know I don’t look like much, but I got some money. Got a place out west. Lots of land, horses, cattle. Nice house with a swimmin’ pool in the back. But the thing is…it’s real empty. It ain’t fit for a lonely old cowboy. But it could be a home, with you in it.”

Your eyes widened. There was no way this was real. There had to be a catch. Maybe you were dreaming. Yeah, that was it. This was a dream and you’d wake up any minute, curled up on your broken-down old mattress in your tiny, ill-repaired house. 

“I’ll let you sleep on it, if ya need. But I’m tellin’ you right now, you deserve better than this town. It’s like fuckin’ quicksand, it’ll suck you in and you’ll never get out. Believe me, I know.”

“Why?” You asked. “Why would you do this for me?”

Rhett shrugged. “Because I can see you need help, and I have the means to give it to ya.”

You stood there, speechless, your eyes wide and watery. “This isn’t real,” you whispered. “You’re just a dream and I’m gonna wake up soon and you’ll be gone.”

“Ain’t no dream, sugar. I’m real and I’m offerin’ you a fresh start. Don’t need to give me an answer right now, you can think about it, but-”

To hell with it. “Yes,” you cut him off. 

His brows raised. He hadn’t expected you to say yes so quickly. Before he could speak again, you continued. 

“Why the hell not? I’ve got nothing going for me here. I’m gonna die in this Podunk town if I don’t get out right now. So yes, I’ll go with you.”

Rhett tilted his head, caging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Alright then. We can leave tomorrow if y’ want. My place is in Wyoming, it’s gon’ be a long drive.”

You wondered what he was doing so far away from his home state. And in the back of your mind, you knew this was potentially the most foolish decision you’d ever made. What if he was a serial killer who was going to dump your body in some ravine somewhere? But as you looked into the kindness of his deep blue eyes, you knew that those fears were all in vain. This man was not here to harm you. He was here to rescue you. 

So you took a headfirst leap of faith and let him. 

That very same night, you walked back into that diner, tossed your apron onto your boss’s desk, and told him, “I fuckin’ quit.”

You ignored his overdramatic pleading, tuning him out when he shouted after you. You left it all behind and came back outside where Rhett was waiting, smoking a cigarette. When he saw you, he stamped out the cigarette and pushed off of his truck, which he’d been leaning on. 

“Well?” He asked. 

“I quit. Maybe I’m stupid for doing this, but I trust you, and I’ll go wherever you wanna take me.”

And that’s how it all started. 

He took you back home that night, insisting upon it after you told him you’d been walking to work to avoid the cost of gas and car maintenance. 

His truck smelled like him. The faint scent of cherry tobacco, and a cologne that smelled like vetiver and cedar. It was strangely comforting and you found yourself at ease wrapped up in his scent. 

When he pulled up outside your shabby little house with its unkempt lawn, you felt a little embarrassed about your living situation. But if he judged you for it, he made no indication. 

“Pack what’s most important to ya. I can have a moving company come and pack up the rest and ship it to my place.”

You hesitated before you climbed out of the truck, reality finally hitting you in the face. “Rhett…you should know I’m sort of…in trouble. I owe money. I’ve got overdue bills, and people I borrowed money from. If I skip town I’ll be in big trouble.”

Rhett gazed at you, and the yellowish light cast from a nearby street lamp made his eyes look dark, almost brown. “Don’t worry about all that.”

“But-”

“I said I’d take ya away from all this. I mean it. You come with me, and you won’t have to worry about anythin’ ever again. I can promise you that.”

“I can’t ask you to take care of my problems for me.”

“You aren’t askin’ me to. I want to.”

You stared at him in disbelief. There was no way this was real. But your heart was telling you to trust him. If he said he would take care of things, then he would. 

“Okay,” you relented. 

“Alright then. I’ll see ya tomorrow mornin’, around 7 if that’s okay with you.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll see you then.”

Then you slipped out of his truck and slammed the door shut behind you. He waited in your driveway to see to it that you got safely into the house before he finally pulled away.

Once you were inside, you pushed the front door shut and leaned back against it, reeling from what had taken place in the last few hours. Had you really just agreed to run off with this man? Were you crazy? Had you gone completely bonkers? Maybe, but strangely enough, you also had a sense of peace. Somehow you knew this was the right decision. 

So you set about packing a duffel bag with your necessities, and by the time morning came, you were waiting out on your front step for Rhett to arrive. 

He pulled up at 7 o’clock on the dot, and he climbed out of the truck to greet you. “Mornin’.” His kind smile sent a fuzzy warmth rushing through you, as if you’d just sipped a glass of bubbly champagne. 

“Morning,” came your response. He graciously took your bag from you and placed it into the bed of his truck. Then he opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into the confines of the vehicle. 

“Y’ hungry?” He asked after he’d settled into his side. 

As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, and you gave him a sheepish look. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’ll fix that.” He pulled out of your driveway and headed into town, there he stopped at Royal Donut, the local donut shop. He took you inside and let you choose whatever donuts you wanted. You walked out of that shop with a dozen assorted favorites, cups of coffee, and some other bakery items. 

It was more than you could ever eat, but Rhett spared no expense. And as he drove, you happily ate your fill of donuts, a treat that you never bought yourself. He seemed pleased that you were enjoying the sweet treats. 

And thus began your trip to Wyoming with a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy. 

The further away you got from that shitty town, the more at ease you felt. You relaxed into the leather seat of Rhett’s Silverado, and you let yourself forget about your problems for just a little while. 

You found Rhett incredibly easy to talk to. He had this way about him that made you want to talk to him. You wanted to know more about this man who’d walked into your life and whisked you away. This was the kind of thing that only happened in movies and storybooks. It didn’t happen to small-town girls who led flat, broke-down lives. 

And yet, there he was, driving with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting atop the gearshift, looking like a dream with his hair haphazardly brushed back with his fingers, wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, with an ornate belt fastened around his waist. 

There was a pair of black cowboy boots on his feet. You never thought you’d find such a thing attractive, but you did. He was every bit a cowboy as you could have imagined. Open pack of Marlboros in the cup holder. Pistol in the glove compartment. Dreamcatcher hanging from the rearview mirror. 

He told you the dreamcatcher was given to him by an old friend named Joy Hawk. “She passed a few years ago. Every time I look at it I think of her.”

You admired the colorful beads, watching as the feathers fluttered from the air conditioning. Someday, you would find that same dreamcatcher beside your bed, because Rhett noticed you admiring it so much that he decided you should have it. But until then, it would remain dangling upon his rearview. 

During that lengthy road trip, you talked about anything and everything. You revealed some details about your life and explained why you had a negative reputation, of sorts, within your town. 

“You mean that fuckin’ asshole that tripped you spread rumors that you were tradin’ sex for money?” He clarified, his hand tightening on the steering wheel. 

“I-I think so. That’s the only reason I can think the rumor even got started. His pride was hurt when i said I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

Rhett ran his tongue over his teeth, breathing in deeply. “I shoulda beat his ass like I wanted to. Fucker deserves it.”

You shook your head. “What you did last night was more than enough. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get arrested on account of you defending me. I’d feel so bad,” you said. 

“I wouldn’t’ve gotten arrested. And even if I did, they’d let me go after I made a phone call.”

You looked at him curiously. “Why? You famous or something?”

“Not really. Won a couple bull ridin’ circuits. Own a cattle ranch. I just have good connections. And a good lawyer.”

Something about his answer made you think he was being modest. With the way he threw money around so freely, and the way he was dressed, you knew he was more wealthy and powerful than he was letting on. But you chose not to question it further. If he wanted you to know more, he’d tell you. 

Instead of talking about his status, he changed the subject. He talked about his family, and how rocky his relationship was with them. 

“It all fell apart when I was in my early 30s. Found out my wife was cheatin’ on me with my brother.”

Your jaw dropped at his revelation. “Oh my gosh. With your own brother?! That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “I got over it. But it took me a while. I spiraled pretty hard after it. Did some shit I ain’t proud of, all because I was angry. But that was a long time ago. I’m in a better place now.”

“You never remarried?”

“Nah. Just never found anyone I wanted to settle down with. Maria, my ex-wife, tried to rekindle things but I never could look her in the eye again after what she did. So I just put all my focus into buildin’ a life for myself. Rode in a few rodeos. Built a house. Been runnin’ a cattle business for the last decade. Haven’t had time for anyone special.”

“Except for me,” you quietly murmured. 

He smirked, nodding in agreement. “Except for you, little darlin’.” Then he paused. “‘s alright if I call ya that?”

“Yeah. I like the sound of it.”

From that moment on, you became Rhett Abbott’s little darlin’, and everything changed. You wondered what made you special. What made him decide, fifteen years after his marriage went down the drain, to open his arms to someone else? 

You’d never understand, but you didn’t have to. Rhett had pulled you from the miry pit you’d been sinking into, and you would be forever grateful to him for it. You didn’t know it yet, but he would soon lavish you with everything you could ever want or need. He would provide for you beyond your wildest dreams, and you would wake up every day and thank your lucky stars that he had walked into that shitty hole-in-the-wall diner and swept you off your feet. 

Now you were on your way out west to his big ranch to start a new life. You had no idea how he was going to work out all the details. There were still so many loose ends you had to tie up in your personal life. To anyone else, this decision probably seemed like the most foolish decision you could’ve possibly made. But to you, it felt like fate, so you decided to take it as such. 

Instead of worrying about those things, you allowed yourself to be in the moment, getting to know Rhett during all those hours in the truck together. He got you whatever you wanted to eat along the way. Fries, milkshakes, your favorite treats. You felt a little bad that he was spending money on you, but at the same time, it felt nice to be spoiled, so you allowed yourself to bask in it. 

The trip took twelve hours in total, and toward the end, you fell asleep with your head resting against the window. A few hours later, you woke with a start when you felt the truck pulling to a stop. 

“Shh, you’re alright,” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. “Just pullin’ into the drive.”

Suddenly, you were very much awake as you realized what you were looking at. You’d finally arrived, and although it was dark, you could see that the property was large. And the house you were approaching was bigger than you could’ve imagined. 

Your eyes went wide. So he was rich, rich. 

You were essentially speechless as you climbed out of the truck and followed Rhett to the front door. There was a motion light that had turned on as soon as he pulled the truck to a stop, illuminating the front of the large house. It was designed to look like a rustic cabin, but much bigger. Wood beams framed the expansive porch. Even the front door was wooden. A few rocking chairs decorated the porch. Green fern plants hung from the ceiling, creating a whimsical feel.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting his home to look like, but this exceeded your wildest expectations. You drank everything in as he took you inside, standing there dumbly in the entryway as he reached over and flipped several light switches on one switchplate, illuminating the front of the home.

An entry area with a plush rug stretched out before you. It opened up into the main living room, which was furnished with two leather couches, some comfortable-looking overstuffed chairs, a bearskin rug, a custom coffee table, and so many more odds and ends that made it feel like a home. 

“Whoa,” you whispered to yourself in amazement. Your own home looked like a tattered shoebox compared to this. “How is this real?”

Rhett smiled at your wonder. “It’s real. Built it myself.”

Your eyes went wide as saucers. “You built this?!”

“Not by myself, I had a lotta help, but yeah. C’mon, let me show you where you’re gon’ be stayin’. I’ll give ya a tour tomorrow, I’m sure you’re wiped out and want some sleep.”

You were in fact wide awake, but you let him lead you up to your room anyway. You followed up up the wide, wooden staircase and up to an open hallway, complete with wooden banisters. It overlooked the main floor of the house and gave you an idea of just how big the place really was.

On your way down the hallway, you passed a few different rooms, and you noticed that one had a nameplate on it with the name Amy etched into it. You wondered if it was too forward to ask him about it, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

“Who’s Amy?” You asked as you trailed after the man.

He glanced back at you. “Amy’s my niece. She don’t stay here much anymore, she’s grown, and she’s off backpackin’ through the Appalachian Trail with her wife, last I heard. I just kept her room the way it was in case she ever needs to stay with me.”

You nodded in understanding, and you wondered if she was the daughter of the brother that Rhett’s wife had cheated on him with, but you didn’t ask any more questions. You already felt like you were imposing enough as it was, and you felt it was rude to interrogate this man who’d just invited you into his home out of the goodness of his heart.

You didn’t have time to continue your questions anyway, because Rhett stopped at the end of the hall and opened the door to another bedroom, motioning for you to step inside. The first thing you noticed was its coziness, with a large, plush rug covering most of the floor. The bed was queen-sized, set inside a bedframe made of logs. 

There were rich oak nightstands on either side of the bed with ornate wrought iron lamps. There was even a flatscreen television mounted to the wall across from the bed. But best of all, there was a large, stone-hewn fireplace along the far wall. You were blown away. It was the nicest bedroom you’d ever seen. And the bed looked so inviting. Maybe you would finally get a good night’s sleep and wake up without any lower back pain, as you were prone to.

“Rhett, I…” you started, but you couldn’t form the words.

He smiled as he walked over to place your bag atop the bed. “Don’t mention it, little darlin’. For now, I want ya to get some sleep. Bathroom’s right over there,” he motioned toward a door on the other side of the room. “Should be toiletries and whatnot in there. My housekeeper Kira usually keeps everythin’ stocked.”

Your brows shot up. He had a housekeeper? It only made sense, seeing as how the place was so big and he was only one person. Even so, it was a lot to process. How on earth had you gotten so lucky to meet this guy? It still felt like a sick joke that God was playing on you. But you’d enjoy the joke for as long as you could.

However, there was no joke. No one was pulling a fast one on you. Rhett Abbott was a sincere man who truly wanted to help you, a poor waitress down on your luck. And help you, he did. After you got settled in that night, he set about doing exactly as he told you he would; taking care of things.

Over the next few weeks, he began the process of having all of your things moved to his place. He worked behind the scenes to cover all of your financial expenses. He paid any outstanding balances and bills you had, down to the very last dime. 

In just a short amount of time, your entire life changed. You went from barely keeping your head above water, to floating atop the same water on a pool float with a mimosa in hand. Rhett became your protector, your provider, the best thing to ever happen to you. 

Gone were the days of worrying if you’d have enough money to buy groceries or pay your electric bill. As the months went by, Rhett provided everything you could ever need or want. Clothes, jewelry, shoes, food, hygiene products. He spared no expense and he was more than happy to lavish you with those things.

He’d well and truly become your savior, and you would be forever grateful to him for giving you a chance when no one else would.

As time passed, and you fell into an easy routine of life with the gray-haired cowboy, you found yourself falling in love with him. Being in his presence felt so safe and warm, and you became drunk off of that feeling. You couldn’t help but fall head over heels, and he was there to catch you when you did, confessing that he, too, loved you. 

It felt natural. It felt right. And Rhett hadn’t allowed himself to love anyone in this way since his marriage had fallen apart. Even then, he never truly knew what love was. He’d only married Maria because he was afraid of being alone. A lot of good it had done him, because he’d ended up alone anyway.

But all of those events in his life had led him here, to you, and he realized then that it was all worth it. The pain, the suffering, the hardships he’d endured were simply molding him into the man you needed him to be. Taking care of you gave him purpose.

He pledged himself to you, promising that he would take care of you for as long as he lived, and even after, he would see to it that you didn’t have to worry about a thing. You would be financially set for the rest of your life. It was a concept that was so foreign to you that it was difficult to wrap your mind around.

Money would never be a concern for you ever again.

But for you, it wasn’t about the money. Of course, the financial stability was wonderful, but you came to the conclusion that you would be happy with Rhett no matter your situation. Rich, poor, anything in between. You were content with all of it as long as he was by your side. Not only was he your savior, but he was also the love of your life. 

He had so much to teach you, from all the years of life he’d lived. He’d seen so much in his forty-five years, he had many stories to tell, and you eagerly listened to all of them. As time went on, he opened up more and more. 

You were curious as to how he made so much money. He didn’t tell you all the details, but the gist was that he raised and sold cattle, and it had become a wildly successful means of living for him. Before his livestock business, he was a bull rider. You’d seen the medals and trophies in his office. He was modest about his riding career, but his awards boasted of national fame in the rodeo circuit. He was one of the best there was.

He explained that he’d had to give up riding when he was still young. “Most guys get ten or so years in the circuit. I got seven. Fucked up m’ shoulder and wrist one too many times. Got to the point where I couldn’t hold onto the ropes anymore. My last ride damn near killed me, I thought I could handle it but I lost m’ grip and went down. Landed me in the hospital for a month.”

He showed you the various scars and injuries he’d suffered during his riding career. His shoulder was littered with aged scars, which were from extensive surgeries he’d undergone just to be able to use it still.

After that, you spent many a night massaging lotion into that shoulder, just to give him some temporary relief of the pain he still suffered. He was grateful for your gentle touch, and he found himself marveling at how he got so lucky to find someone like you.

But life wasn’t all rhinestone cowboys and star-spangled rodeos. While he made an honest living with his job, he had his fair share of issues when it came to his wealth. After his divorce, he’d spiraled out of control and gotten himself in trouble with some powerful people. 

Those days were behind him, and he’d since paid his dues, but he still had those enemies who would jump at the chance to see his success go down the drain. Particularly the neighboring Tillerson ranch. 

The Abbotts had a long history with the Tillersons. And that history had carried on through each generation. Rhett’s father, Royal, had been dead for the better part of a decade, and the Tillerson patriarch, Wayne, had been dead for even longer. But his sons were still alive and kickin’. And they’d do anything to knock Rhett down a few pegs and gain the upper hand in the business realm. 

Rhett had fought tooth and nail to get where he was today. He was the son of an impoverished cowboy, he had extremely humble beginnings and was always told he wouldn’t amount to much. But he’d proved everyone wrong just by succeeding. Because of all the blood, sweat, and tears he’d put into his livelihood, he was especially protective of it, and never allowed anyone to threaten what was his. 

You knew Rhett was protective. You had seen it early on when you first met him, when he defended you against those boys in the diner. But you saw it again one day when you faced his competitors one night at a rancher’s event. 

He told you that you didn’t have to go. “Don’t want ya to feel obligated, little darlin’.”

“I want to go, so I can support you,” you insisted. “Besides, I couldn’t pass up seeing my man dressed up all fancy.”

He smiled shyly. “If you’re sure, then okay.”

“I’m sure. Plus, it’s high time I let everyone know you’re off the market, right?”

Despite your upbeat attitude, part of you was nervous. Rhett had told you how some of these people behaved, and how judgmental they could be. You were afraid of what they might say when they noticed how much younger you were than Rhett. 

But your relationship wasn’t something you wanted to hide. To hell with what others thought, or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. You wanted to walk in on Rhett’s arm and have him show you off. 

And that was exactly what you did. Rhett bought you a new dress, a deep blue to match the shirt he wore. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He wore his nicest pair of jeans, the blue shirt with a bolo tie around the collar, his most expensive belt, decorated with his favorite buckle that was polished to perfection. His silver hair was neatly combed back, and he wore a jet-black hat atop his head. 

He’d never looked more beautiful, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to be called his. You walked into the event that night with your arm looped through his, butterflies of nervousness fluttering in your belly. 

“You’re gon’ do just fine,” he quietly assured you. You smiled and squeezed his bicep in thanks. 

And you were just fine. Until it came time to meet people. You were content to keep to yourself, safely tucked into Rhett’s side. But everyone noticed you, because it was a rarity for him to come to an event with a plus one. 

It was Luke Tillerson’s wife, Camilla, that took it upon herself to find out who you were. “Who’s your little friend, Rhett?” She spoke up. 

Little friend? You didn’t like her tone. But Rhett didn’t let it affect him. He tightened his arm around your waist and replied. “This here’s my girlfriend,” he introduced you. 

The woman made a face, eyeing you up and down. You immediately felt scrutinized. “Oh, how…cute.”

“She is, ain’t she?” He said, gazing down at you lovingly, purposely ignoring her implication. But he could tell you were bothered, he could see it in your eyes. You stepped closer to him, pressing yourself against his side. 

You’d never felt so out of place in your life. These people were all filthy rich. They’d been born into wealth. Surely they would see you as Rhett’s charity case if they knew your background. 

“Abbott!” A male voice suddenly interrupted the conversation. An older man dressed in an expensive suit and sporting a stereotypical handlebar mustache approached Rhett, and before you or Rhett could protest, he whisked him away, claiming he had someone for him to meet. 

This left you entirely alone with Camilla. Your palms grew sweaty and your muscles tensed. You were afraid she was going to start prying into your business. And sure enough, she did. 

“You’re awfully young,” the woman remarked, idly sipping the expensive cocktail she held between her manicured fingers. 

“And what about it?” You asked, immediately defensive. You’d been afraid this would happen. 

“Oh, don’t take it personally, hon. I just didn’t think Rhett would stoop to such a level. I mean, what are you, mid-20s? He must have been incredibly desperate.”

You bristled, your skin growing hot beneath your dress. “I really don’t appreciate that,” you gritted out. “He isn’t desperate. It’s not like that.”

Camilla laughed it off. “Oh, you sweet child. You don’t get it, do you? He’s having a midlife crisis. You’re only a phase. Once he gets sick of you? He’ll drop you like a bad habit. He’s only interested in one thing, and it’s not your brains or pretty face.”

You wanted to throw angry, biting words right back at her, but you were speechless. You couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to speak so boldly to someone she’d never even met. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, and although you willed them to go away, they wouldn’t. 

“H-he’s not like that,” you whispered, repeating yourself. You had been with him for nearly a year. Not once did he ever display the tendencies she was describing. 

“Honey, I’m just trying to warn you so you don’t get hurt when he gets bored. Go find a man your own age before it’s too late.” 

Those tears welling in your eyes began to make their way down your cheeks before you could stop them. You couldn’t fathom how someone could be so cruel. Camilla said something else to you, but you didn’t hear her. You were too overwhelmed, too hurt. Your immediate instinct was to find Rhett. With your breath coming out in short, shallow gasps as you tried to hold in your tears, you turned, your blurry eyes scanning the room for him. 

But Rhett had already seen you, and he was making a beeline for you. As soon as he appeared in your line of sight, you knew he was going to come to your aid. He’d been watching you warily from the corner of his eye as he talked to a potential new business partner, because he knew how Camilla Tillerson was. She’d never grown out of her high school mean-girl phase, and she thought just because she was Mrs. Luke Tillerson she could behave whichever way she wanted. 

When he saw your shoulders tense, he knew something was wrong, and he excused himself to come to you. And then you turned, and there were tears in your eyes. It set off alarm bells in his head, and his chest tightened as anger welled up inside him.

As soon as he reached you, he was pulling you close, and you let yourself melt into the safety of his arms. Rhett had it handled, you didn’t have to worry anymore. “The fuck did you say to her, huh?!” He demanded.

Camilla’s eyes widened. “Nothing! I was just trying to give her some friendly advice, woman to woman.”

Rhett glared at her. “Like hell you were. You really gon’ stand there and insult my gal? And ain’t it convenient that you waited ‘til I walked away to do it?”

“Hey, there a problem here?” Another voice chimed in. This time, it was Luke’s.

Rhett sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, your wife. Tell her to keep her big mouth shut.”

He ignored Luke’s dramatic reaction, opting to instead end the argument and tend to you. He tucked you under his arm and he led you out of the room. You didn’t see it, but he made sure to hold his hand out behind him as he went, his middle finger in the air to get the message to Luke and his wife across. 

Once he had you outside, he led you to the truck, where he stopped to let you pull yourself together. You wiped at your wet cheeks, and he kindly gave you the handkerchief he always kept in his pocket to help. 

“How can someone be so mean?” You whimpered softly.

Rhett fought the urge to go back inside and start yelling. It wouldn’t help anything, and it would only get him banned from the event altogether for acting like a fool. Instead, he focused on you. “What’d she say to you, baby?”

You sniffled, staring down at the handkerchief as you gingerly folded the fabric over itself. You relayed the words Camilla had spoken to you, and you watched as Rhett’s jaw tightened, his chest heaving slightly. 

“That fuckin’ bitch,” he gritted out. Then he grimaced apologetically. “‘scuse the term, I don’t like to call ladies names but that one deserves it. I can’t believe she’d do that to ya.��

“It’s what I get for thinking I could measure up to all this. I’m nothing compared to all those people in there. They’re filthy rich and I’m just fuckin’ trailer park trash!”

In an instant, Rhett had your face in his hand. “Don’t you dare start talkin’ like that about yourself. I ain’t gon’ stand for it. You got just as much a right to be there as anyone else.”

“Do I? Or am I just your arm candy?” As soon as you said the words, you regretted them. 

“You know that’s not true,” he lowly said. “You’re not a fuckin’ object, alright? You’re a brilliant human being and I’m sorry the others can’t see that.”

You wanted to say more, but you were too emotional. “Can we please just go home?”

Rhett sighed softly, but relented. “We’ll talk more about it later.” And then he opened the passenger door of the truck and allowed you to climb in. 

Camilla’s words and attitude had really gotten to you. You knew what she said about Rhett wasn’t true, but there was still that nagging voice of insecurity that made you think it was true. 

What if he did eventually get bored of you? What if he didn’t even love you and he truly was only interested in you for what you brought to the table sexually? Those were all lies, and you knew that. But the longer you let them fester, the more tortured you felt. 

When you arrived home that night, you went right up to the bedroom without saying a word to Rhett. He stood at the foot of the steps and watched you go up, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sighed tiredly and sauntered over to his extravagant liquor cabinet. 

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it in one go before he poured another, and then made his way upstairs to where you were already getting ready for bed. He decided to give you a few moments of silence before he tried talking to you again. You obviously needed a little time. 

Instead, he busied himself with getting ready for bed himself, shedding his clothes and slipping into a fresh pair of underwear to sleep in. Then he finished off his whiskey before he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

It wasn’t long before he was settling into bed, all while you were still busy at your vanity, going through your skincare ritual. He gave you that time to yourself as he cracked open the book he’d been reading the last few nights, perching his reading glasses on his nose as he did so. 

A few minutes later, you joined him in bed, slipping beneath the plush covers. He didn’t waste another moment as he quickly set his book aside. “We need to talk this out.”

You sighed. “I know.”

“Do you? Because I don’t think y’ do.”

You looked at him with a furrowed brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Listen, I ain’t the best with words, but…I don’t think you know just how much you mean to me. I don’t give a shit what Camilla Tillerson says. She’s wrong, you hear me? You’re not just some phase that I’m gon’ get bored of. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You make me a better man and I’m forever grateful, you hear me? So fuck what all them prissy, starch-collared cowboys think. Because I know the truth. And the truth is that you’re the love of my life. Nothing’s gon’ change that.” 

At his earnest confession, your eyes welled with tears again. “Oh, Rhett,” you whispered. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him. 

“I love you, you hear me, girl? I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.”

And somehow, you knew he would.  

His confession eased your fears, but there was still that little insecure voice within you. However, somewhere along the way, you determined in your heart that you were done caring about what people thought. 

You loved Rhett, and he loved you. You weren’t going to hide that. So you continued attending events with him, walking in with your head held high, proud to be standing by your man’s side. You didn’t let anyone talk poorly about him, or yourself. You stayed far away from Camilla Tillerson, and you refused to listen to comments that she or her family made toward you. What they thought didn’t matter. 

Rhett proved his love to you over and over again. He showed you that what you shared was real and true. That you were the only one for him. And it wasn’t long before he pledged that love to you with a ring. 

You were married in the woods. You wore a whimsical dress with a crown of flowers in your hair. You even got Rhett to wear flowers in his hair. You said your vows under an old weeping willow, with the local pastor officiating. Rhett’s niece Amy and her wife flew in to witness the marriage, and his mother Cecelia, who was well up in years, but still just as lucid and fiery as she’d ever been, came too. 

It was a quiet, intimate ceremony. And after it was all said and done, Rhett treated you to a honeymoon in the mountains, in a little log cabin built for two. It was blissful and dreamy and everything you ever could’ve hoped your honeymoon to be. 

He treated you like a queen, and you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was it for you. There was no one else you could imagine spending your life with. He’d found you at rock bottom and offered you a steady hand to hold, slowly pulling you to your feet and building you up until your old life was but a bad memory. 

With Rhett, you wanted for nothing. You were loved, provided for, protected. He was the greatest gift you’d ever been bestowed, and you cherished him every waking moment. 

Now, whenever there were business events to attend, you walked proudly by his side, displaying the beautiful ring he’d placed upon your finger, letting everyone know that you were the one that had made Rhett Abbott believe in romance again after all these years of wallowing in his own loneliness. 

Your life together was sweet, and it went down easy like a spoonful of honey. Gone were the rough days and the fear of wondering if you’d end up living on the streets. Now, you woke up every morning to the sun streaming through your windows and your husband’s strong arm slung across your waist, and you silently whispered a prayer of thanks to the universe for it.

That was exactly the kind of morning you’d just woken up to. It was early, especially to be awake on a Sunday morning, but you were alert as could be. Beside you, Rhett was still sleeping peacefully, the sheets slung loosely over his naked hip, his silver hair mussed against the pillow. 

Sundays were his day of rest. He wasn’t above doing hard labor, and could often be found working out in the fields with his ranch hands. But Sundays were reserved for rest and spending time with you. Usually, you would gently wake him, but because it was early, you decided to let him rest a little longer. He deserved it after a long and arduous week. 

Instead, you slipped out of bed and went to get into your swimsuit so you could jump into the in ground pool in the back. Although the sun had barely been up that long, it was already quite hot outside, and you were eager to take a dip in the cool water to start your day. 

You donned a white bikini. It was simple, but it was Rhett’s favorite. Particularly because the straps wear easy to untie and gave him easy access to the body that he loved so much. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, because you knew he would be delighted to wake up to the sight of you in your skimpy bathing suit clinging to your wet skin.

As you sneaked back through the bedroom, he was still sound asleep, and you left him be. You padded through the house with your feet bare, the air conditioning cool against your exposed skin as you went, raising goosebumps in its wake. 

But the second you stepped outside, you warmed right up. You stopped to grab a beach towel and a bottle of SPF in the outdoor cabinet near the door, and then you took a moment to put on the cream, allowing it to soak in for a bit before you stepped toward the pool and dipped your foot in, shivering at the coolness. 

Sucking in a breath, you finally went for it, quickly lowering yourself off of the concrete edge and plunging straight into the water. You squeaked at the cold shock, but moments later, your body grew used to the temperature, and you relaxed, closing your eyes for a moment before you swam to the other edge of the pool to grab a large innertube to float around on. 

You pulled it over your body and then rested your arms over the inflated edge, breathing out a sigh as you let yourself float around aimlessly. You rested your head atop your hands, letting your eyes drift shut as the water gently lapped at your body. It felt heavenly, and you relished in every moment of it.

You couldn’t believe that this was your reality. A giant in-ground pool in the middle of a glorious ranch in Wyoming. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d be in this position, but here you were, all thanks to your million dollar man. 

“Thought I’d find y’ out here.” Speak of the devil.

You smiled, lifting your head to take in the sight of your husband. He was dressed only in the white underwear he’d worn to bed, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander brazenly, drifting toward his crotch.

“Mornin’, Daddy,” you sighed. 

He raised a brow as he stopped at the edge of the pool. You eagerly swam toward him, and he leaned down to kiss you. “Mornin’, little darlin’. Sleep okay?”

“Like a baby.”

He smiled, kissing you again before he turned, opting to take a seat on one of the soft lounge chairs. You watched as he reached into the side table that stood beside the chair, pulling out his pipe set. You couldn’t help but bite your lips as you watched him ready the old pipe. It had been given to him by his grandfather, and he only used it once in a while. It was intricate, hand carved and passed down through the generations.

He noticed you eyeing him, and he smirked. “What? I’m feelin’ fancy this mornin’, sue me.”

You shook your head. “Oh, no, keep going. You know how sexy I think you look with a pipe.”

He rolled his eyes as he pressed a scoop of cherry tobacco down into the pipe. “Yeah. Sexy like a fuckin’ grandfather.”

“Exactly.”

He snorted in laughter. “Oh I’m sorry, I forgot who I was dealin’ with. My wife loves old men.”

You giggled in response. “Hey, I only have eyes for one old man, and that’s you.”

You shared a good-natured, knowing look with him before you spontaneously turned and dipped back into the water. Rhett leaned back against the lounge chair, taking a puff from the pipe and letting the smoke curl into the air. He watched you through hooded eyes, admiring the way your body moved in the water. He noticed that you were wearing his favorite bikini of yours, and he couldn’t help but groan low in his chest. 

You swam about for a few more laps, all under Rhett’s watchful eye, before you finally decided to get out of the water. You felt his gaze on your body as you emerged from the pool dripping wet, bathing suit clinging to your skin. Your nipples were prominent beneath the fabric against your breasts, and Rhett could see it clearly. 

You grabbed the towel you’d set out early, using it to dry your body, right in front of your husband. You turned to catch his cool blue gaze, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees. He stared right at you as he brought his pipe back to his lips, and this time, when he released the smoke, he created smoke rings that floated up into the air. 

God, did he really have to make everything so sexy?

“What’s’a matter, honey?” He teased, a twinkle in his eye.

“Nothin’!” You peeped, shaking your head as you finished trying off. 

He smirked again, and you wanted to wipe it off his face. Then he leaned back, spreading his legs. You had full view of his cock, and those heavy balls of his, barely hidden by the fabric of his underwear. You swore you began salivating, and he wasn’t even hard yet. 

“Come sit on daddy’s lap, little darlin’.”

Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play. Without a word of protest, you tossed your towel aside and climbed into his lap. He set his pipe in its cradle so both of his hands could rest on your hips. “Look so pretty, glimmerin’ like a fuckin’ diamond,” he mused, admiring your damp, shimmering skin.

You leaned in, searching out his lips, and he obliged you, kissing you languidly. In the process, you lifted your hand, discreetly tugging at one of the ties on your bikini top. When you parted, the top conveniently fell, revealing your breast.

“Oh, oopsie!” You exclaimed. 

Rhett rolled his eyes. “Yeah, oopsie.” But he brought his hand up to untie the other side, and then the back. With ease, he plucked the fabric from your body and tossed it aside, revealing your chest. “Much better.” Then he surged forward, opening his mouth to swirl his hot, wet tongue around a nipple. 

You gasped lowly when he closed his lips around the little bud, suckling softly. “Know I can’t resist these fuckin’ gorgeous titties,” he growled, teeth nipping at you. 

“I know,” you gasped, “‘s why I wore this set.”

He grinned at you as he made quick work of untying the bottoms. “I figured. Dirty little slut, know exactly how to get daddy goin’, don’t ya?”

He went back to mouthing at your breast, his other hand coming up to knead at the one he wasn’t laving his tongue all over. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him as you relished in the feeling of his teeth gently scraping against your nipples. It sent shockwaves of pleasure crackling along your spine, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the minute. 

Rhett was obsessed with your tits. He always wanted his hands or his mouth all over them, and you were more than happy to oblige. 

“Can’t get enough of ya,” he murmured, his large, warm hands squeezing your ass. “Mind if I fuck t’ out here, baby? Or would you rather go inside where it’s cooler?” He was always so considerate of your comfort. 

“Out here,” you gasped as you pulled his mouth to yours, your fingers threading through that silvery hair. “Don’t wanna wait.”

He hummed in amusement. “Impatient lil thang,” he drawled. 

“Can’t help it,” you sighed as you positioned yourself so your pussy was against his slowly hardening cock. “Need my daddy right now.”

He growled low in his chest. “Yeah? Poor baby, daddy’ll give you what you need.” 

You whined in response, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you began to rock your hips back and forth. His big arms came up to wrap around your torso, and you basked in the feeling, eyes drifting shut. You felt so safe, surrounded by him. The sweet scent of cherry tobacco was comforting, paired with the scent of his shampoo, and the natural, intoxicating musk that could only be described as Rhett. 

You could get drunk off of his scent alone. 

When he realized you were inhaling him, he hummed knowingly. You were like a little puppy, the way you always sniffed at him. He found it endearing. 

But then he felt your cunt soaking through the fabric of his underwear, right against his cock, and he forgot all about that cute little quirk of yours, his brain short-circuiting. 

Above him, you could feel him growing harder and harder against you. It was your favorite feeling, because when he was hard, he grew so big. You’d never forget the first time you saw his hard cock. You had meekly questioned how it was going to fit inside you. 

Now you took it like a champ, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still like to talk it up and tell him how big he was. You knew how much it got him going. 

You looked down, and whimpered pathetically when you saw him growing between your legs. Almost frantically, you began rutting your hips more quickly, building friction. 

“Hey now,” Rhett drawled, “slow down there, baby. We got all mornin’, ain’t no rush.”

He tipped your chin up to kiss you again, and you shivered in his arms. “I know. But I wan’ you now. Need to be full, need your fat fucking cock inside me.”

Rhett’s eyes widened at your brazen language. He wasn’t shocked by it, he just wasn’t used to you being so bold right off the bat. Usually, it took getting you a little worked up for the filthy talk to start, but he was already getting your unfiltered desires and you’d barely even begun.

Before he could reply, you were scrambling to get his underwear down his legs. Moving quickly, he aided you, yanking them down the rest of the way and kicking them aside. 

Without warning, your hand was on him, stroking him to full hardness as he grunted in surprise. You leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from your pursed mouth, right onto the shiny, pink tip. 

You used it as lubricant to stroke him further, but within seconds, he was gently pulling your hand away. He then reached between your thighs and slid his middle and ring fingers inside you, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat. “Gotta get you ready,” he murmured, and suddenly he was fucking his fingers into you hard and fast as you squealed and fell forward against him, the obscene wet sound reaching your ears. 

You weakly grasped at his arm, unable to speak, but you knew if he kept going you’d end up squirting all over him. “Da-d-daddy!” You managed to squeak. 

And then, all at once, he stopped. He pulled his fingers from you and used your slick to further lube up his cock. You watched, salivating as the tip began to glisten with precum. Eagerly, you reached down, swiping your finger over the slit and smearing it around. 

Rhett gasped, shivering at the sensitivity. 

“So pretty, Daddy,” you mused, admiring the glimmering hardness beneath you. 

“S’all for you, little darlin’,” he rasped. Then he grabbed your hips, arranging you properly before he aligned himself with you. “Let’s see if this needy pussy is ready f’ me.”

He ran the plush tip over your aching clit, and you trilled softly, closing your eyes in anticipation. Then, finally, you felt him as your entrance. Slowly, oh so slowly, he began to push into you. Little by little, your anatomy stretched to accommodate him. You could feel every vein, every twitch, and it already had your eyes rolling back in your head. 

“‘ere you go,” he praised, his eyes fixed on the place where your bodies met. “Just a little further. C’mon honey, I know you can do it.”

At his encouragement, you sank down all the way, until you felt his balls pressing against you and you’d taken him down to the hilt. Then you glanced down and smiled proudly. “I did it, Daddy. I took the whole thing!”

Rhett beamed. “Atta girl. Takin’ it like you were made to.” His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the skin. “You wan’ do it by yourself or do ya need Daddy’s help?”

Your brow furrowed as you considered the ultimatum. “I wanna try to do it by myself first.”

He nodded, leaving a kiss to your knows. “Alright then, go ahead. Take what y’ need.”

You placed your hands on his big, broad shoulders and began to slowly move atop him, using your thighs to lift yourself off before sinking back down. Rhett’s own hands found purchase on your thighs, lovingly squeezing at the flesh, enjoying the feeling of you building your own rhythm. 

As you did so, he dipped his head forward again, mouthing at your breasts, tongue swirling around each nipple. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, taking in every sensation you felt. 

The stretch of his cock inside you, the shock of his teeth nipping at your sensitive flesh, the feeling of his hands, calloused from years of work, resting on your thighs. His presence was so big and manly, surrounding you entirely. You felt so safe, like nothing in the world could harm you. 

“Love you, Daddy,” you breathed as you began moving faster, focusing on the task at hand. Up, down, swivel your hips against his. A steady rhythm that you stayed with, periodically tightening around him as you did so. 

“Love you too, baby.”

Rhett watched you above him, his eyes shining like the stars. You were so beautiful like this, slipping into the throes of pleasure. He wished he could have this moment etched in gold and display it on the walls of his home. 

Your soft whimpers filled his head, swirling around like the smoke from his pipe. The sweetest music to his ears. He ran his hands along your body, as if committing the feel of your soft skin to memory. 

“So pretty like this, ain’t ya? Usin’ Daddy for your own pleasure.”

At that, you moaned, opening your eyes to gaze into his own. “Feels so good.”

“I know. I can feel you gettin’ wetter.”

And he could. Your arousal had begun to drip down against his balls, and you were so slick that you had to focus on being careful so you didn’t accidentally take him too deep and hurt yourself. 

But soon, your thighs began to burn, and you grew fatigued from doing all the work. You’d bitten off more than you could chew. You needed help. 

“C-can you take over, please?” You asked. 

“Already?” He cooed. “I thought for sure you’d last longer. You’re just a pathetic little thing, ain’t ya? Need Daddy’s help with everything.”

“Yes sir,” you agreed, nodding your head and gazing at him with doe eyes. 

“Don’t worry. I gotcha.” His hands tightened around your hips, and suddenly, he was moving you up and down on his cock with his sheer strength. You gasped loudly, immediately falling forward against his strong chest as he did so. 

You felt every inch stretching you, splitting you open. Your mouth parted to let out your unabashed moans and whines, already so blissed out that you were drooling against his chest. 

He began shifting his hips up to meet yours each time he brought you down, jarring you as he fucked you fast and deep, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass. 

But he didn’t let you get too used to that position, because it wasn’t long before he was suddenly pulling you off of him. You squeaked in protest, looking at him in confusion. 

“Want you on y’re hands and knees,” he gruffed. He slipped out from under you, and you watched his hard cock bob as he got up, glistening in the morning light. 

He had to arrange you how he saw fit, because you were too preoccupied staring at his dick. Then he was behind you, clutching your hip with one hand while the other aligned himself with your cunt. 

In one swift but careful thrust, he was back inside you, and you all but howled against the lounge chair. He lifted his hand to swat your ass, leaving a brief sting that was soothed by his gentle palm. 

Then that same hand rested on the small of your back as he pushed you all the way forward so your face was against the cushion. Then he began to roll his hips forward, and you whined at the feeling. This angle was so much more intense, and he felt even bigger somehow. 

“S’big, Daddy!”

“I know. Poor little pussy’s just stretchin’ so wide to take me. I don’t know, think I should pull out and make you take m’ fingers instead?” He pulled his hips back, and you gasped, immediately reaching back to grab at his arm. 

“No! I can take it, promise! I’m a big girl!”

“Are you? And here I was under the impression that y’ were just a little thing.”

“No! Please!” You begged. 

Then he thrust forward, and you let out a wail into the open air. Good thing no one could hear you back here. “Alright then. Wan’ you to lay there and take every last inch of Daddy’s dick.”

And you did. He fucked you hard and fast, and you clawed at the cushions for purchase, your mouth open, your eyes screwed shut. It felt like heaven, and you were certain you weren’t even on Earth in that moment. You were floating above yourself, watching your husband claim you as his. 

Again, drool spilled from your mouth, this time soaking the fabric of the cushion beneath you. You moaned and squealed and cried out, wonderfully blissed out. 

But all too soon, Rhett was switching positions again. He pulled out of you once more, and this time, you wailed. “Daddy, no!”

“Be fuckin’ patient,” he huffed as he turned you onto your back. “I’m gon’ give it back to you.” He shoved your knees up toward your chest, and then he was inside you again, stealing the breath from your lungs. 

This time, he pressed the weight of his body against you, keeping you grounded as he began fucking into you. A hand came up to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides, not to cut off airflow, but blood flow. Within seconds, your head was going woozy, and Rhett grinned down at you. 

“Filthy little slut. Bet you’d come right now just from my hand around your throat if I let ya.”

You would, because you’d done it before. However, that wasn’t his goal in that particular instance. He simply wanted to watch the way your body reacted to it. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open, leaving you in this state of pure, unadulterated bliss. 

He felt you tighten around him, and he grunted, pushing his cock even deeper. Your hands clutched at his flexed forearm, nails digging into the skin, sure to leave marks. He growled and grunted above you like a goddamned animal, fucking you within an inch of your life, and you took it like the good girl you were. 

And then you felt it. The tip of his cock brushed something inside you that sent you into orbit. 

“That’s it. Look at’cha. Got your eyes rollin’ back in your fuckin’ head.” Then he grabbed one of your hands and brought it down to your lower abdomen. “Feel that?” 

All you could do was squeak in reply. 

“‘S Daddy’s cock inside ya.”

At that, you let out a deep keen, tears beginning to stream down the sides of your face. You sobbed and moaned and made all sorts of sounds that you might’ve otherwise been embarrassed about, but Rhett couldn’t get enough. 

Then his scruffy face was nuzzling into your neck, and his teeth were nipping at your pulse point, and you swore you were going to black out from the glorious intensity. 

“D-d-” was what came out of your mouth. He knew what you were trying to say. 

“What is it, huh darlin’? What’s my baby need?” Suddenly his fingers were at your aching clit, rubbing short, sharp circles, and you jolted against him like a live wire, pussy clamping around him. “Oh, that’s what you needed. Poor thing, Daddy was neglecting that sweet little clit. I’m sorry.” 

He kissed you, swallowing your cries as he pumped his hips in time with his fingers at your clit. That, paired with his free hand still around your throat, you knew you were a goner. 

“Go-gonna c-c-come! Please D-Daddy can I–”

But you didn’t even have to ask. “Come.” 

And you did. You tried to scream, but it died in your throat. Instead, your mouth opened, but no sound came out. Rhett stayed close, his forehead pressed to yours as you fell apart around his pistoning cock. 

You were free-falling, plunged straight into the depths of an orgasm so fiery and all-consuming that you lost yourself to it. You were not of yourself. You were on an entirely different plane of existence, vibrating with crackling electricity, as if you were a bolt of lightning flashing through the sky. 

The molten heat surged through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. And Rhett held you the entire time, your body trembling fiercely in his arms. 

It took some time to come back to yourself, and when you did, you found him gazing down at you, his eyes as clear blue as the sky above him. He let out a breathless laugh. “Hey there, darlin’. Welcome back to earth.” He’d slowed the movement of his hips just to let you recover. 

“I…wow,” was all you could say. 

“That was intense, huh?”

You nodded, your eyes watery. 

“You okay to keep goin’? Or do you need a break?”

“I-I think I’m…okay.”

But that didn’t convince him. “Look at Daddy.” You lifted your eyes to his gaze. “I need a for-sure answer. Can I keep goin’?”

“Yes,” you finally answered with confidence. “Wan’ you to keep going, please Daddy.”

He smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good girl, that’s all I needed.” Then he kissed you before he leaned back, pushing your knees toward your chest again. 

And just like that, the switch was flipped, and he slipped right back into that harsh dominance, as if it was a well-fitted glove.  Suddenly he seemed so much bigger above you, and you felt tiny. It made your heart sing. 

Slowly, he began to move within you again, and you whined, closing your eyes at the delicious stretch. Rhett leaned back to admire the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole, and the creamy ring of your cum that now decorated the base of his cock. 

He reached down, swiping his fingers against the base and gathering your slick before he brought those same fingers to your mouth, sliding them past your lips. “Tastes so good, don’t it?” He murmured lowly, and you nodded in agreement, eyes wide and watery, gazing up at him with such trust and adoration. 

He leaned in to kiss you, tasting your cum on your lips. He stayed close, wrapping your legs around your waist and pressing his chest to yours. He began to fuck you deep and slow, rutting into you. This allowed you to feel every inch, every spasm, everything. 

He caged you in with his big strong arms, protecting you from the word. You were so safe. So secure. Rhett would protect you from all harm. 

“You mind if Daddy fills y’ up, baby?”

“Please,” came your whisper. 

“Good. ‘Cause ‘m close.”

With his mouth against yours, he began to pick up the pace again. Quick but deep thrusts, cock battering that spot inside you that made your toes curl. It was inevitable that you’d come once more before he did, just by the way he had you feeling. A steady pressure had begun to build deep within the core of your being, and eventually, it would have to be released. 

Then his fingers were at your sensitive clit again and you were mewling into his open mouth. Stars danced in your eyes, on your skin. You felt like you were part of a glittering galaxy. 

Your arms found their place around your husband’s shoulders, and you held tightly to him as he went a little faster, a little deeper. Building and building and building. And you were already growing closer by the second. You knew your end was almost upon you. 

“Daddy!”

“Go ahead.”

This time, when you came, it flooded from you, soaking Rhett’s cock, dripping down beneath you onto the lounge cushion. It was his turn to have his eyes roll back in his head, and he fucked you through it. 

“Fuck, got this pussy squirtin’ all over me,” he hissed, slipping out of you to run the tip of his cock rapidly over your clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you cry out. 

Just as you came down, he slid back into your still-spasming cunt, grunting at the tightness that surrounded him. He gripped your thighs in his strong grasp and his focus shifted to chasing his release. 

Beneath him you were so far gone that all you could do was lay there and take it, still writhing in bliss, silent, pleasured tears falling. Your head was swimming, you felt as if you were floating through time and space. 

“Look at me,” Rhett’s lilted baritone filled your fuzzy head, and you opened your eyes, locking your gaze with his. “Gon’ fill your pretty pussy up. Want you to take it all like my good little darlin’.”

You nodded, eager to take his load. His movements quickened, hands clutching you tight as he thrust forward hard and fast. You held onto him to keep yourself grounded, body trembling, hovering on the brink of being too overstimulated to handle much more. 

And then, finally, you felt it. Rhett gasped, mouth falling open as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He kept his hips flush with yours, cock spasming within you, spilling the heat of his release into the deepest part of you. And you took it all gladly, body relaxing entirely at the feeling of him claiming you. You’d never tire of it. 

He gradually came down, his body falling limp above you, though he still kept himself from pressing his full body weight into you. His softening cock was still nestled inside you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, hoping to keep him there a little longer. 

“M’ good girl,” he cooed down at you. “Took that so well.”

You smiled dreamily up at him. You didn’t quite have the wherewithal to speak, but that was okay. He didn’t need you to speak. Gingerly, he moved to slip out of you, but you whined in protest, not wanting to part from him. 

“Y’ gotta let me go, honey. Can’t stay like this forever.”

“W-want you close,” you whispered. 

“I know, and you can have me. But I gotta get you cleaned up first. And it’s gettin’ hotter by the minute, I ain’t about to let my pretty little gal get heatstroke on my account.”

He kissed you sweetly as he pulled his hips back, shushing your cries. You hated the initial empty feeling, especially when you were feeling fragile like this. But Rhett was quick to soothe you. 

“Up ya go.” He lifted you to your feet, and you wobbled a little, still woozy. He secured a steady arm around you and guided you back into the house. 

It was much cooler inside, and it felt good on your heated skin. However, you hardly even registered what was taking place, you were still feeling floaty. But Rhett had it handled. 

He guided you upstairs, where he made sure you used the bathroom and took a quick shower just to rinse off. You didn’t have to make any of the decisions for yourself, because he did it for you, knowing you couldn’t handle trying to clean up by yourself. You needed this form of aftercare for your own well-being. 

A little while later, you were clean, and dressed in one of his old rodeo t-shirts. You felt a little more like yourself, albeit a little fuzzy. Rhett had just finished helping you put lotion on your legs, and he was smiling up at you from where he knelt on the floor. 

“I’ll bet you’re hungry after all that work,” he teased. 

You hummed sleepily. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“How do some blueberry pancakes sound for my little darlin’?”

It was your turn to smile. “Sounds so good.”

“Alright then, let’s head on downstairs. You’re also gon’ drink yourself a nice glass of water while you’re waitin’ for your food. Ain’t gonna have you dehydratin’ on me.”

You hummed in agreement and allowed him to lead you out of the bedroom and back downstairs. He kissed the top of your head as you went, and you sighed happily, feeling at peace. 

You were led to the kitchen, where you sat at the round table and waited for your husband to prepare your breakfast. As promised, he slid a glass of water in front of you and encouraged you to drink it. You sipped on it as you watched him move about the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how good you had it. 

Spending the morning being fucked by the pool, and having breakfast made for you? The old you could never have imagined this would be the case. You were eternally grateful that life had given you a second chance and allowed this man to come to your rescue when you needed him most. 

You had faced a lot of adversity in your life, but now, it all seemed worth it, because it led you here. 

Rhett truly was your saving grace. The yin to your yang. The moon to your stars. He was your million dollar man, and you wouldn’t trade him, or his love, for anything else in the world. 

-

tagging those who might be interested (if you liked/reblogged any of my mdm promotional posts, i tagged you lol)

@eternallyvenus @up-thereinthesky @antiquitea @cdauni @coffeewithcal @rhettabbotts @combat-sixty-three @karma-is-my-girlfrined @blitchenslibrary @whoeverineedtobe @l-ynsdove @ravenmoore14 @virgo-wonder @sugarcoated-lame @sebsxphia @peachystenbrough @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @damrlova @randomfandomgirl97 @bobfloyds @beepitybeepboop @buckys-estrella @callsign-magnolia @sunblchdfly @wkndwlff @withahappyrefrain @creatchie8 @topgun-imagines @lovinglyeternal @bobfloydsbabe

[c-m-stuff]

Trick Or Treat

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

-Description: You and Spencer are married. You two have a beautiful son, who you are trick or treating with.

-Warnings: Fluffiness, having a child

-Word count: 825

-Note: (Repost from Wattpad) Hey guys, I'm finally back. A lot has happened at the time I was gone, and I couldn't find the motivation to write. But, I'm happily back. This story is in honor of the most spooky season. Enjoy this Halloween story!

Masterlist

Y/N POV:

It was spooky season. The season with beautiful, orange leaves, falling from the trees, the season when pumpkins are indispensable and horror movies are more popular than ever. Yes, it was autumn. It also happened to be my husband's favorite season and holiday.

We all got our Halloween costumes. Spencer went as Doctor Who, while (Y/S/N) was going as Spiderman. This year, I went for a simple, but stunning, black cat. My whole outfit was black, as the fabric was hugging my figure. I got cat ears and wore black

make-up with high heels.

I was just finishing my hair, as I felt a person staring at me. Turning around, I saw the genius watching in awe.

'You look stunning.' a smile appeared on my face, while he was walking closer.

His lips were quick in finding mine, moving sincerely as two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly. His hands found their home on my waist, gently brushing over the fabric. Before things got too headed, I pulled away.

'As much as I love this, we need to go trick or treating.' I reminded him, as his brain finally caught up with my words.

'Alright, but we're going to finish this later.' he teased, and I pressed a quick kiss on his lips.

'If you say so.' smirking, I turned around, making my way towards our son's room. Spencer following behind me.

Carefully, I pushed the door further open, seeing (Y/S/N) playing with his Lego. He looked up once he noticed our presence, as a smile was painted on his little face.

'Are you ready for trick or treating?' I asked, excitedly, as he got up and ran towards us.

'Yesss!'

'Alright, let's go.'

__________________________

Only moments later, we arrived at the first house. The front yard was decorated amazing with all kind of Halloween stuff. We saw (Y/S/N) struggling to reach the bell, his little body too small. Spencer happily lifted him up, so he was now able to ring the doorbell.

'Ready?' my husband asked our son, while placing him gently back on the ground. He nodded, and waited patiently for the door to open.

'Trick or treat!' we all exclaimed, making our neighbor laugh.

'That is definitely a scary costume, (Y/S/N). I think, I better give candy real quick.' she played along, making Spencer and I both smile at the excitement of our son.

She placed a few candies into the little Halloween bucket, (Y/S/N) was holding. He jumped, enthusiastic, a spark in his eyes. It was the most sweetest thing ever.

We thanked our neighbor, before walking further. This went on for a while. Going from door to door, everytime receiving candy. Eventually, the sun began to disappear behind the clouds, slowly getting more darker. All the excitement and activities took a toll on (Y/S/N). He was walking more slowly, tiredness visibly on his face.

I picked him up, as he let his head rest on my shoulder. I gave a kiss on it, watching him in awe. Spencer was doing the same thing, his eyes fixated on our beautiful son. We locked eyes for a moment, telling in our own way to get back home.

__________________________

Satisfied, we unlocked the front door, happily by the turn of the evening. I placed our already asleep son in his bed, giving him a goodnight kiss, while tugging him in. I let a tiny lamp shine, as I quietly made my way back towards the living room.

'I think, he has enough candy for a whole year.' Spencer joked, pointing at the full bucket.

'Yeah, it was definitely a great evening. The joy on his face, I'll never forget it.'

'It really was amazing to witness.'

I walked closer to him, pressing my chest against his. He wrapped his arms protectively around my waist, placing a kiss on my head.

'I love you.' he whispered, while he pressed me even further into the embrace.

'I love you, handsome.'

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, he slightly pulled away. A spark appeared in his eyes, as he got visibly excited.

'What do you think of a Halloween movie night, with lots of cuddles and food?'

'I would love to.' I told him, mirroring his smile.

Soon enough, we were lying on the couch, our bodies as close as possible, cuddling and eating, all that while watching one of Spencer's favorite Halloween movies.

Yes, this was the perfect Halloween.

_________________________

[romanarose]

Why Did You Stop?

Steven Grant x Gn!reader

Romana's 1000 follower celebration

Join my tag list to be tagged in more content!

requested by @soonknight

"hi romana, congrats on 1000! you deserve it and I love your writing! I wanted to send you a request but I'm on a side blog and hate doing anons... I'd love to see a drabble with steven and "why'd you stop?" I'm just in the mood for some fluff tonight, idk. thanks!"

Summary: While locked out of your apartment, your neighbor, Steven, kindly let's you stay over at his flat that night.

************

"Excuse me, are you alright?"

You wake up to a pretty sight; Steven Grant, your neighbor, waking you.

And the blinding hall lights. Those were annoying.

"Oh, hey Steven." You smile at him sitting up.

"Everything okay? I'm sorry to wake you, love, but I was just worried."

"Y-yeah, yeah I'm fine. I just locked myself out of my apartment is all. Sleeping out here for tonight."

The look of horror on his face make you giggle. "Oh god, no! Why didn't you knock on my door? I'm glad I ordered some late dinner" He held up his take out. "C'mon, up you go" Steven began to hoist you off the couch, even picking up your coat that you were using as a blanket. "Can't believe you didn't come see me. Absolutely ridicules, as if I don't have a perfectly good apartment just across the hall for you to sleep in."

Steven continued to murmur about how you were always welcome over as he set you up on the couch you were all to familiar with after arguing with him over who was going on the bed. You simply refused, you would not disrupt the poor man's sleep. He needed it! Plus, he had a whole ruetine.

You'd been around Steven and his apartment enough that he felt he no longer had to hide the sand and chain and duck tape from you, all the times you came over to watch movie's this last month you saw his place just as it was, mess and quirks in all. You liked that he trusted you with it.

Soon enough, you found yourself bundled up on the couch with the neighbor you'd been sporting a crush on since forever, and as usual, your bodies were pressed up close with Steven laying on your lap. It wasn't long until he fell asleep on you, just as you suspected he would. Steven almost always did, needing his rest so badly, so you'd taken to lulling him to sleep yourself by gently scratching his scalp, massing your fingers through his beautiful thick curls. If he didn't wake by the end of the movie, you would try to make a quiet exit and leave him on the couch with a blanket. Tonight, you were hoping he'd wake eventually so you could send him to bed, but for now you took the time to simple admire him. He real was handsome, so, so handsome it was nearly painful, your heart aching for him, to touch him, to be with him... but if you told Steven that, would you lose moments like this? moments when you felt so comfortable, so safe, so at peace... you'd miss it all so much.

"Why'd you stop?" Steven's voice was soft and small below you, and it's then you realize his eyes open, watching you watching him...

"Oh! Oh sorry, Steven" You go back to scratching him, but he keeps looking up at you, his brown eyes large and gentle.

"You looked sad, darling. Anything wrong?"

"No, Steven, nothings wrong"

He didn't believe you. Steven sat up, his face close to yours. "No, somethings on your mind. What is it?"

Still, you hesitate. You could tell him... but you could also ruin it all. "Well... I was just thinking... and... and you can say no and I don't want this to ruin our friendship but... maybe I could take you on a date sometime?" You held your breath.

Steven's face was unreadable besides surprise. "You... you want to go on a date? With me?"

You couldn't help wringing your hands together. "Yes? I mean, if you want to. If you want to remain just friends then that's-" You were interrupted by the most unlikely of events. Steven Grant kissed you.

His lips on yours, you relax into him, opening your mouth slightly for the kiss to deepen just a bit. Nothing salacious, nothing raunchy, simply you and Steven feeling your passion for one another.

"Darling, I'd love to go on a date with you. But I'm taking you."

You smile at your sweet Steven, so beautiful and so kind. He was finally yours.

************

This is inspired by the time during winter break i got locked out of my dorm bc I lost my keys at work and a kind coworker drove me home and i was able to get into the building bc my student ID by not my dorm room. The RA n duty never answered my damn call. I was mad. lol. anyway i didn't let it get me down, i made due and slept on a couch and was greatful i had a warm place to sleep in the -30 temps but Fen actually gave me this idea for Stevenw hen I told them about it XD

thanks for everyone being patient on these, my anxiety ha been like. severe. i dont want to be dramatic but it's been bad bad bad all summer and im honestly struggling. I appriciate the patience and the understanding that i gotta do it when inspiration strikes and im feeling it.

@fandxmslxt69 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @k-ra @eyelessfaces @ivystoryweaver @steven-grants-world @campingwiththecharmings @ahookedheroespureheart @littlenosoul @runa-falls @lokisv7ikrie @mikaelak

[crehador]

BROTHER CRAB'S SUMMER 2024 TOP THREE

i can't believe this is happening i really can't believe it but i think i'm gonna have to go with

THIRD PLACE: NIGE JOUZU NO WAKAGIMI

for much of the season, nigewaka seemed like it was easily going to be my anime of the season. it had a banging first episode and never at any point got less enjoyable to me

the animation was consistently beautiful (yeah sure with the occasional jarring bit of cgi but in all honesty it never bothered me much) and the characters are all delightful to me

i think the mix of humor and the horrors of war depicted here, understandably, might not appeal to everyone. but it really worked for me. the fact that these characters are so lively and alive, as opposed to doomed and hopeless, in these times of strife makes the stakes feel all the higher to me

so despite it taking third place on my list, this is still solidly one of the best shows of the season (of the year, even)

a few things just happened to blow me away a tad bit more

SECOND PLACE: DEAD DEAD DEMONS DEDEDEDE DESTRUCTION

honestly this is so close for me that demons and nigewaka may as well be a tie, but maybe demons gets a slight edge just for being something so fresh to me

god i loved this. it's been a hot minute since i've seen something that felt so real and human. aliens are invading, the world is ending, but girls will be girls

i guess, like nigewaka, demons also mixes some good ol' humor with The Horrors, and it really works here too. the theme of "hey there's this giant alien mothership hanging over the city but life goes on" is executed so well in the early episodes of this series, and the plottier plot comes together in such a satisfying way in the later episodes

and seriously just huge props to ano and lilas ikuta for their performances in the leading roles here, they smashed it. if i didn't know, never in my life would i have guessed they weren't voice actors with years and years of experience each

ANIME OF THE SEASON: TSUE TO TSURUGI NO WISTORIA

first things first, i would not say this is objectively the best show of the season

but holy shit this is the most fun i've had all year

i'm probably more surprised than anyone that wistoria is ending up as my anime of the season, because even after a whole season, the story is just so... it's basically nothing (stay with me)

there are so many things you could call the plot of wistoria. typical, tropey, contrived, textbook, tired, etc etc etc. anyone who finds the plot boring isn't wrong. it's a fantasy magic school series like any other fantasy magic school series, with so many tropes that you'll recognize if you've watched basically any amount of fantasy at all

but for some reason i didn't dislike it. maybe wistoria doesn't do anything new, but it hits on all these familiar plot beats in such fun and entertaining ways

at some point i realized what word i really wanted to use to describe it:

quintessential

sure, it wouldn't be unfair to call it contrived or derivative or what have you. but to me, this is a quintessential fantasy action/adventure series. yes it hits on all the story beats we're familiar with, from countless series before it, but it hits each beat perfectly

the characters are ridiculous, all easily recognizable archetypes, but they're so unrepentant in who they are that i find myself enjoying them too

and then there's the animation

guys this show is fucking gorgeous. like if it weren't this pretty, i doubt i would be raving this much about it. if it had been just decently animation, i'm pretty sure i would've just enjoyed it a normal amount

but the animation is so so so good that this quickly became the number one show i was hoping for a season two of (and we are getting one!)

like the production quality just did not waver. i found myself baffled that this is the series, the story, that got this level of masterful work put into it. but then i started thinking maybe that's unfair, because really, the story is not bad. fairly simple and straightforward sure, but again: quintessential fantasy

not to end on an absurdly cheesy note, but just like how it's wistoria wand and sword, i think it's the stellar animation and entertaining story/cast that makes this series work so well. without the animation being this good, the story wouldn't have been enough to stand out. but without a truly entertaining story, the animation, however pretty, would have felt pretty empty too

very eagerly awaiting season two

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Hello moon I love your fanfictions in Destiny 2. Here's some qna...

1. What made you love the Destiny franchise?

2. Why do you love the the Drifteris ship so much?

3. Do you think their(Drifter and Eris) story would still be explored especially now that the franchise is in a bad shape.

4. Any future stories that you would write in Ao3 for the following years.

I am delighted you like my stories and happy to answer your qna any time you like although some answers take longer than others (especially if they end up being stories) and there are some that are still waiting for me finish their replies. (I have not forgotten! They just require more attention.)

This I can answer right away, though. So I shall.

1.

Eris. Eris made me love Destiny. After her, the Drifter. After him, the stories of several other characters. But Eris has forever transformed how I write my non-fanfiction writing. I'd never found hopeful endings of recovery done in a way that was actually inspiring before. That sort of thing always seemed either false, tacky and trite or exploitative trauma-gore with a pretty bow on the end.

Eris is different. Full balls-to-the-walls horror but with a genuine ending that makes sense and isn't either cherry-lipstick on a corpose or abyssmal nihilism is extremely hard to pull off. I have been studying Eris, how she is written, how her narrative functions.

As a child, the house I grew up in was toxic and awful but it was also full of books, most of which were the golden-age SF&Fantasy that Destiny is based on. Child-me found them an escape but adult-me couldn't connect with those stories any more when I grew older. Those endings were too easy and simple, the villains too beatable, the misogyny and homophobia too pervasive, the imperialism gross and unaware. Those stories no longer provided me with escape or comfort. They just made me sad. Eric John Stark, Outlaw of Mars and the Stainless Steel Rat were traded in for Cthulhu and Molly Millions and I found solace in the gothic, the cyberpunk and the weird because at least they weren't filled with abusive lies.

Destiny has changed that. Destiny has shown me I can have my Stainless Steel Rat and my Molly Millions and they can have strong narrative arcs with good endings that ring true and, sometimes, even love each other.

2.

I've gone into detail regarding Eris and the Drifter in other posts but, at its core, the relationship is very well summarized (by someone else) as "He gives her trust. She gives him hope." I find their helping each other to heal to be very beautiful.

But my love of their relationship goes beyond that. It reaches back to my love of the X-Files. It reaches back to badass female characters like Ripley from Alien and Trinity from the Matrix. It reaches back to badass male characters (there is absolutely more than a little bit of Conan the Barbarian in Eris). And I cannot overstate my delight when I discovered my childhood beloved intergalactic thief and conman, the Stainless Steel Rat, reincarnated without the misogyny and trite shallowness, as gritty, always-hungry, deeply-hurt-but-learning-how-to-heal Drifter.

I have, in fact, always loved badass punks who keep a core sense of self and love through the horrors, standing up for what matters when no one else can, refusing to die because they have a job to do dammit and they will not lie down. I have always loved shifty lying untrustworthy-yet-ultimately-reliable stray-cat-meretricious-charisma-rogues who, after so much betrayal and pain, finally find something worth fighting for. I love them when they appear in any gender or orientation, separate or together, but especially, especially together.

Eris and the Drifter have existed in the past and will in future, in various forms of literature and media. I love them wherever I find them. I always have. I always will.

3.

As for what will happen to them within D2, both Eris and the Drifter have a history of existing in shadows, in the spaces inbetween. I am heartbroken at the loss of writers who clearly cared about giving them attention, but the groundwork for them to be close to each other, to find comfort and understanding together, has been laid.

Short of one or both of them being killed off in the main narrative, that relationship has room to continue its quiet gentle growth on its own, out of the spotlight.

It is far more important to me that they be written well and true to who they are than that we get any large focus on them. And if that means their relationship (whatever form it takes) ends up only existing in tiny obscure scraps on item descriptions or small sections of lore books I will not be ungrateful.

Those tiny spaces, after all, are where the writers are given the most creative freedom, where so much of the good writing is able to flourish, becase it is not a major narrative and therefore is given less meddling from external forces like marketing or game mechanics or seasonal/episode content requirements.

It is so easy to ruin something as beautiful as Eris and the Drifter. I feel as though the writing team up until now has treated the relationship between these two broken and healing people with reverence, gentleness, and care.

The writers who remain are from that same team.

As long as the writers continue to treat these characters with that same care, no matter how small the tidbits we might get about them may be, I will be happy and it will be enough.

4.

Regarding future stories: I uh... write a lot.

Road Trip is an ongoing series I keep adding sections to which has several potential endings and many story beats which are sketched out in point form (or less) but not yet fully written. That one is being written nanowrimo-style, straight from the hip, and I only post a new section once the next one is completed (so there is one completed chapter right now, waiting to be published until I finish writing the next one).

Mottephobia has an ending, but I am at war with @redbutterflies-blueeyes and chapters of Mottephobia are being held for ransom until they update their fantastic Drifteris story, Inspiral.

I have two fic exchange stories that will be completed (I hope) soon, and a handful of nearly-ready-to-be-posted stories which will go up once I've done more edits and rewriting. One involves the bog slug. One is a post TFS celebration story inspired by this specific piece art by @haykebyr . One is a request which came in through my ask box for something on Europa that has gone completely off the rails and will likely be long and far more involved than what was requested.

I've also completed and submitted things to a soon-to-be released D2 fanzine and I am hoping they will be accepted. I look forward to sharing more about that once the zine goes live (either from within the zine or on their own if they end up not fitting with everything else) but I'm not allowed to talk about that in any detail until after the zine is published. I will say that one of them is sad but sweet, and another one is just sweet and involves rain.

<3

Thank you again for reading my things. It means the world to me when people tell me they liked something I wrote.

[angstmongertina]

7KPP Week: Day 2

Once again, I'm late (this time a full day already!), and my fic is tangentially related at best, so I'll add some rambling underneath about what some actual dates might be!

Anyway, day 2 is date night, here featuring a little fic of Temperance and @teaandinanity's Nisha and some discussion of NPC!Tempy and Lia!

As before, more 7KPP nonsense under the cut!

The musicale was a rousing success. That was apparent enough from the applause after the performance and the smiles of the guests as they bid Lady Nisha and herself—though, admittedly, far more towards Nisha, the official hostess of the event—farewell. And yet, Temperance hardly noticed, entranced as she still was by the melodies still dancing in her mind, the images of the violinist drawing his bow across the strings, clear and confident and with passion in every single note.

If she were to be perfectly honest with herself, she hardly cared for the social sense, but at least in the artistic sense, the musicale certainly was a success as well.

It wasn't until Nisha had bounced up to her, with far more speed and enthusiasm than her typical languorous movements would suggest, that she noticed the emptiness of the room. Their guests had all swiftly made themselves scarce, no doubt preparing for the introductions later in the day, while the performers packed up their instruments, murmuring in voices too low to be heard, even despite the acoustics of the room.

And judging by the glint in Nisha's eyes, it was a relative solitude that she intended to take full advantage of.

"I see your sister's descriptions of your musical talent were no exaggeration, Princess."

In spite of herself, she stiffened, the denial falling off her tongue with practiced ease. "You are too kind, Lady Nisha, and Princess Constance far too generous with her compliments."

"I, too kind?" A hidden smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I fear Lord Blain - who has a far longer-standing acquaintance with me - would vociferously disagree with that assessment. Though, I suppose your sister's compliments carried less weight after a closer acquaintance with her… expertise.”

On instinct, she smothered her laugh, a hand clapped over her mouth before the sound, harsh and inelegant, could escape. Given the still brighter grin she received in response, however, she only partially succeeded.

And oddly, she did not really care.

She did, however, pause, looking at her new friend more carefully. "She demonstrated her musical talents?" That, even more so than the letter Lady Nisha had cheerfully delivered to her, was an indication of her sister's trust; Temperance could count on one hand the number of times her sister had voluntarily performed—if her off-tune warbling could be called that—in front of her, let alone to others of their acquaintance.

“In a matter of speaking. She happened upon my serenading of a not quite empty courtyard, you see, and gave my performance a most impressive encore."

Judging from Nisha's satisfied expression, it was hardly so simple, but before she could formulate a proper response and despite her best efforts to avoid it, she found herself tugged forward to sit at the piano, and looked back up at her friend.

"She also revealed your aptitude for music," Nisha offered, nodding towards the instrument.

Barely restraining a start, she looked down, to where her hands had instinctively settled into position for a simple minuet, and let them drop, fingers slipping from the polished ivory keys into her lap as she shook her head. "You exaggerate. It was only a few brief lessons, several months' duration at most, and many years ago now." She twisted her fingers in her lap. "Certainly hardly worthy of a beautiful instrument such as this."

"The instrument would much rather be played, I think, and if you won't, then I will."

Lady Nisha's words were a threat and one she intended to follow through, she discovered, torn between amusement and horror as her friend leaned over, fingers twisting into some facsimile of her previous position and coaxing out notes more discordant than she thought would have been possible. Even the musicians paused their conversation to glance over, and she flushed, barely resisting the un-princess-like urge to knock Nisha's hands aside.

The lady in question straightened up and winked. "Last chance?"

"Fine." She sighed, though surely even the swiftly retreating observers could see her faint smile as she settled her fingers back into position and began to play.

-----

Tempy is quite the musician, and if coaxed into it, will play music for a friend who might ask it of her. In particular, should you be interested in practicing any dancing, she is a very willing musician, though not a participant--she is rather nearsighted and lack of corrective lenses (because princesses do not need glasses) has made her rather clumsy. Because of this, she has memorized much of her repertoire and can perform without sheet music, if properly encouraged.

And as a bonus for Tea, Lia is similarly musically inclined, though as a mom friend through and through, her date will vary a bit more depending on what she senses you might need. For some, this might be a calming walk by the lake, while for others, this may be a meal and some light conversation, or even time spent in companionable silence in the library. If she likes you and suspects you are harboring feelings for someone, she may even try to matchmake, giving you opportunities to interact with your beloved, in whatever form would be most helpful. Even if she may be harboring feelings for the same person.

[sarahjswift]

Lovebite - IWHAIWSA Chapter 3

Heyyyy here's another chapter for you! It's currently Thursday but I think this should be posted on Friday. The day you are seeing this is my last day of school and I'm very excited!

I hope you all are enjoying this series! I'm very proud of myself because these chapters are longer and I have a couple already written and ready to post. I also am keeping up Twin Wounds, so I'm just doing it all XD

Next week is the start of my summer vacation, but it shouldn't affect the upload schedule too much, but there's always that warning.

Thank you all for your support <3

Warnings: Language, Light Smut

Word Count: 1.7k

Tag List <3: @backtobl4ck, @aelinchocolatelover, @renxzs, @blue-bird17, and @autumnbabylon! Thanks for your support <33333

enjoyyyyy!!! :D

__

“You made out with a stranger who is Eve’s best friends’ dad?” Lysandra gasped with delight. 

Aelin glared at her reflection as if it were Lysandra’s face, forcefully massaging her face with sunscreen. “We didn’t make out. It was one kiss.” 

“One very hot kiss, it seems,” her friend giggled. “I mean, he seems amazing. Do you have pics?”

“Uhm, yes,” Aelin confessed. “He sent me a selfie and I may or may not have downloaded it to my phone.” 

“Oh my Gods!” Aelin winced as her friend’s squeal filled the air - loud and proud, even on speakerphone. “Please tell me it was, like, a shirtless selfie. Or no, no, a mirror shot! No - both!” 

“It was a selfie with him and his kids,” Aelin said matter-of-factly. She dotted concealer under her eyes and surveyed herself in the mirror, checking for any blemishes, and-

“Oh my fucking Gods.” 

“What? What is it?” Lysandra squawked, but Aelin was too busy gaping in horror at the purple spot on her neck. 

“I have a damn hickey!” Aelin wailed, then clamped a hand to her mouth. Eve was watching Spongebob, but you could never be too sure with her. 

“Holy shit, this just keeps getting better and better!”

“Not if you’re living it!” Aelin protested, frantically dabbing concealer onto the very obvious love bite on her neck. 

“Can I see? Send a photo!” 

“Uh, no. It’s, like…very obvious.”

“Gods, how much did he kiss you?”

“I have no idea,” Aelin sighed. Luckily, the mark was covered. She sprayed setting spray onto her neck and prayed that her concealer would stick. 

↜↝

Rowan woke up in the morning with two screaming children, a messy kitchen, and a happy heart. 

He replayed the kiss over and over again in his mind, painting it golden. Even when Lilly knocked over her glass of OJ, he just smiled and wiped it up with a wet paper towel. 

The kids wanted to go to the pool and as they reached it, Rowan found himself searching the room for a certain mother. Unfortunately Aelin wasn’t there, and Rowan settled himself into a pool chair with a sigh, watching his children splash around in the shallow end. 

Rowan: Hey

Aelin: Hello good sir

Aelin: how are you 

Rowan: Good, the kids are at the pool today. 

He hesitated before deciding to go for it. 

Rowan: Wish you were here though. 

Aelin: *typing*

Aelin: 💗

__

“Can we hang out with Eve today, Dad? Please?” 

Rowan looked at his children, pleading up at him. Hold your ground, he thought. Hold it, hold it, hold-

“I’ll text her mom.” 

An hour later, Rowan was smiling faintly to himself as Aelin and Eve descended across the parking lot to the playground. Eve ran toward Henri and Lilly and the three immediately skipped to the playground, giggling. Rowan took a deep breath as Aelin walked up to him, reminding himself to calm down. 

She looked amazing as usual in a simple white crop top and a vibrant, flowing green skirt. Stylish sunglasses rested on her head and her golden hair was tucked into a braid. Her top and skirt proudly displayed her muscled shoulders, arms and legs and he enjoyed the view  - of those and other beautiful parts of her - before snapping his eyes up to her. 

“Hello,” she said, a serpine’s smile curving on her lips. She walked up close to him and placed a warm hand on his arm, the only thing separating their skin the thin fabric of his T-shirt. 

“Hey.” Rowan’s voice was lower than usual, and he had eyes only for Aelin as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear. His eyes closed briefly as he felt her hot breath on his skin, wanting it everywhere- 

“You may or may not have given me a hickey.”

With a start, Rowan broke from his reveries and whipped his head around to gape at Aelin. Her eyes were dancing and her grin stretched wider as she tapped a finger against her neck. “I guess you were kissing me a bit too hard.”

“I-Gods, Aelin, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Her clear laughter rang through the air, making Rowan smile. He couldn’t help it. “It’s funny. I did have a bit of a panic attack this morning, though. That’s why we didn’t go to the pool.” 

Rowan laughed. “What did Eve have to say about that?”

She shrugged. “She was great - we went on a little trail. What about you guys?”

“The pool and now this, after they begged all morning. It’s honestly adorable how much the kids love Eve already.” 

Aelin beamed, and he knew as a parent she was proud. “I’m afraid I’m just as bad about a certain father.”

↜↝

Rowan was so handsome she couldn’t stand it, and the urges to grab his hand, touch his shoulder, just to be near him, overcame Aelin as their families went to get Hawaiian Ice. The way he was with his kids did nothing but melt her heart, and Eve’s obvious adoration of the Whitethorn kids was the cherry on top. 

Soon the sun was setting, and they walked through the resort admiring the beautiful dusk sky. The children were skipping ahead of Rowan and Aelin while they hung back, talking softly, when Eve rounded and walked back to her mother. 

“Mommy, Lilly and Henri said that we could come over and have a sleepover!” she squeaked, excitement lit up in her blue-gold eyes. Her face was flushed and strands of her hair were poking up from her head. She looked insane, and Aelin had never loved anything more. 

“Did they really? Well unfortunately it’s not up to them,” Aelin reminded her daughter gently, praying this wouldn’t get awkward. To her dismay, Eve’s face crumpled and she slumped, practically dragging her feet as she walked back over to her friends. The two parents watched as her daughter informed the other kids of the incident and they immediately whirled around, protest lining their faces. 

“Please, Dad? C’mon, we want Eve to sleep over!” Lilly cried, hanging onto Rowan’s hand. Henri grabbed his other and looked up at his father pleadingly. 

Aelin cringed and turned to her companion, opening her mouth to apologize, when he said; “If Aelin is okay with it, I’m happy to have them over.” 

The children stared at him for a second and then erupted, cheering. They were so busy celebrating they didn’t notice the word change; them - but Aelin did. 

“Them?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Rowan looked sheepish and he shrugged. 

“I mean, why not? You could…sleep over.”

__

I have no self-control, she thought to herself as she carried Eve’s sheets and pillows into Rowan’s room. Apparently they were all having a joint sleepover - the kids would sleep in Lilly’s room, and Aelin - well, Aelin didn’t know where she would sleep yet. That hadn’t been decided. 

After Aelin and Eve brought their stuff over to the room, they settled down at the dinner table for a dinner of steaming pasta. Aelin was pleasantly surprised at Rowan’s cooking skill, and she said as much.

“Thanks,” he said, biting down a smile. “I’m sure you are too.”

At his words, Eve let out a laugh. Aelin flushed as her daughter exclaimed; “Mommy is a terrible cook! She once tried to make brownies for my school bake sale an’ they were goopy an’ my friend Marianne got food poisoning! Daddy always did all the cooking-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Aelin interrupted her daughter before she could ruin her chances forever. As she glanced toward Rowan, she found his amused expression frozen, his eyes like chips of ice. She felt herself frown - what had set him off?

__

At nine the kids disappeared into Lilly’s room to “sleep”, leaving the parents to clean up dinner. Aelin watched Rowan stand at the sink, his powerful arms on display as he scrubbed their plates dry. She couldn’t help imagining that they were a family, he was her husband, and they -

Stop. She scrubbed her face, exhaustion suddenly overwhelming her. There’s no point in imagining anything. It’s done. She sighed and collapsed on their couch, surveying the room. Their hotel space was an exact copy to theirs, so she didn’t feel too bad as she made herself at home. 

“Can I ask you something?” Rowan asked, and Aelin turned to find him leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her with an expression she couldn’t place. At her nod, he took a deep breath. “Is…where is Eve’s dad?” 

Oh. Shit. 

His words were light, but Aelin could tell her response would be important to her. She took a deep breath. “He’s..he’s in the picture.” 

Rowan’s shoulders slumped, and his eyes looked agonized for a half-second before a wall snapped up behind them. “Oh. Alright.” 

“N-not like that,” she blurted - she’d do anything to get him smiling again. “I meant, uhm, well…he has Eve every other week. B-but…we’re divorced. We have been for a year.” 

Rowan’s face melted into a smile she could tell he was trying to tamp down. “Oh. Alright.” Aelin laughed as he repeated his exact words from earlier. At her laughter, Rowan chuckled too, crossing the room to sit next to her on the couch. His weight brought the cushion down, and she slid toward him ever so slightly, close enough she could smell his pine-and-snow scent. 

His eyes darted around the room, checking if the coast was clear, before leaning closer to her. Her breaths came quicker, and she closed her eyes as he brought his hand to cup her neck, rubbing his thumb over the exact spot her lovebite was. She felt him lean in and kiss her jaw, loosing a breath as his other hand stroked her hair. Aelin watched him, heavy lidded, as he kissed his way down to her collarbone, lower. 

“Kiss me,” she breathed. He drew in a sharp breath and obliged her, lips pressing gently against hers. It was a soft kiss, not urgent and sharp like earlier, and she leaned into him, letting his heat envelop her as he hugged her. 

She thought, as she gently made out with this man, she hadn’t felt this safe in years. 

[2-lines-and-a-circle]

Beauty in the Hands, Idia’s route

Notes: Fem reader, newly established relationship, Idia x reader, Please reblog

Back to prologue

Idia was walking through mainstreet on his way to Sam’s shop in hopes he could snatch the newly released game he had been eyeballing. As he reached the store, he noticed there was his lover who was busy engaging herself in a conversation with Jade Leech. Instead of walking over to them he hid behind a nearby tree due to the topic of their conversation.

You: Yeah, it was a really tough job, but Y’know I managed to take them all out. Afterall, if it meant I was the only one getting blood on my hands it’s no big deal. Jade: Sometimes it truly is best to be the one who does all the dirty work, is it not? You: That’s so true. *sigh* But now my hands are all covered up with their remains. See, not a pretty sight.

After catching a glimpse of their conversation and seeing his lover’s hands Idia immediately ran back to his dorm in a panic. Just what had he heard? Idia knew his lover previously worked as a bodyguard, but he didn’t think it was that kind of job. In his head ran thoughts of her being a member of a crime organization. Keeping this to himself he rationed that it was best to ask her about it. So, on their next date he would use that as an opening.

By the time of that date Idia noticed she was dressed up in a plain button up shirt with black pants. Yet, there also accompanied a trench coat which went all the way down to her ankles. If he didn’t know any better Idia would say she looked ready to take down anyone who threaten them. Despite all that Idia found it attractive how confident you carried yourself as you approached him.

One of the first places on Idia’s date plan was a local sweets cafe which specializes in cakes. At the cafe Idia kept a keen eye as to how you used a knife, taking mental notes to see if anything was off. Which there was, you had perfectly cut every slice of cake between the two of you. Then as if to show off for your boyfriend you spun the knife around and stabbed it into a lava cake. Much to his horror, Idia couldn’t help but think of the chocolate leaking out of the cake to be blood leaking from a dead body.

You: Would you like a slice of the lava cake now? The chocolate sure is a mess though, reminding me of something I used to see a lot. Idia: N-no, I think I have enough cake already…

Following the cafe, the two of you headed for the arcade to end off the date. Taking hold of your hand Idia brought you to one of the top games. The goal of the game was to shoot down as many targets as possible, a rather simple shooter game. Forgetting his current worry for a while Idia and you faced off in an intense game. It was a very close call which resulted in a tie, but Idia came to recall the conversation once more. As his face went pale from the memory, he got the courage to ask.

Idia: *sigh* I… want to know, are you actually… i-inovled in um, a… a crime organization?

Looking away from his lover, Idia nervously waited for her response. After a few seconds he heard a small chuckle. Tilting his head up once again he saw a familiar smile and relaxed eyes.

You: I was part of one way back in my rebellious years before I came to NRC, but not anymore. To be honest, the life of crime doesn't really suit me, and I want to repent for any damage I caused. *takes off gloves* see, I even got badly injured when I was protecting my little bro back then.

His breath nearly stopped after hearing the whole story, to calm him down you reassured him that it was all in the past. Plus, you were confident that if anything were to happen you could protect Idia. In fact, you were so confident you got down on one knee and swore to Idia by kissing him on his hand.

You: Idia I promise I will absolutely protect you by any means if someone were to hurt you. Though, I doubt it since I don’t have any bad blood with anyone. Still, trust me on this, okay. Idia: O-okay.

[siena-sevenwits]

Blogging The Last Unicorn, Chapters 2-3 (reread)

I skipped the opening chapter and will return to it once I’m properly into the story – that first chapter always gets in the way of my rereading.

Oh, I love, love Peter S. Beagle’s lyrical prose and overly thoughtful dialogue. It’s a matter of taste, for sure, but every page is just a little gemmed casket of gleaming lines, and I love it. And the sheer sense of atmosphere!

I remember when I first read this book wondering whether the young Peter Beagle was terrified of old age, weakness, and what some perceive as ugliness. I gathered this particularly from the scene where the Unicorn hears Elli sing the song of old age, and she’s filled with more horror than almost anything in the story (and this is echoed by what happens to her later in the book.) And there are other ways this is touched on throughout the tale. But on reread I see much more appreciation for the gift of growing old too. In fact, it’s considered a curse that one character is physically stuck in his twenties, and a grace when that curse is lifted. And though Molly is angry and broken hearted that the Unicorn didn’t come to her in the innocence of her youth but instead found her in her middle age, full of cares, Molly ultimately finds the greatest joys and meaning in her life at this later age. She is even called beautiful, I think. But I’m getting ahead of the story.  

It seems to me that it is right that the unicorn should find old age and death horrifying, for she was created to be immortal, and is fulfilling her nature. Whereas the humans, who were created mortal, fear aging but ultimately embrace it, and thus learn to fulfill their natures.

It’s Chapter Two, and Schmendrick is with us! One of the two best characters in the book! I am amazed how many sides of his character are actually seen within the first few chapters, though they might be more evident on reread.

I love books that strike me as faintly (or strongly) allegorical by turns, but which are so multi-faceted that nothing in the story can really function as a simple, easily translatable symbol. The parallels are always shifting. We can see profound thoughts in the work if we interpret Schmendrick now as a type of the frustrated creative writer, and now as the soul encountering the divine for the first time, and now as a double sided coin of youth and old age. But he’s not a cardboard character, and any allegorical reading ceases to work if you try to apply it to the whole story. In that respect this book is a little like Tolkien’s work – extremely applicable by various lights, but impossible to draw up a table of who symbolizes what. I suppose that is the kind of story our own lives are.

Speaking of Schmendrick the creative artist, this analogy means a lot to me and makes the part where he tries to open the cage dear to me. I love that he had the keys the whole time but wanted it to be the beautiful spell that got her free.

“You deserve the services of a great wizard, but I’m afraid you’ll have to be glad of the aid of a second-rate pickpocket,” is a dear line to me.

Mommy Fortuna knows Schmendrick and the Unicorn have been conspiring, and probably that they mean to escape, but she seems no more worried about it than she does about the harpy getting free. Is it for the same reason? That she held them captive once and they will always remember it, and that’s her immortality? Or some other reason? Also, the lock speaks in Mommy Fortuna’s voice when Schemndrick steals the key and tries to open the cage.

I love that the string of threats, “YOU BARBED WIRE! YOU PILE OF STONES! […] I’LL CHANGE YOUR HEART INTO GREEN GRASS, AND ALL YOU LOVE INTO A SHEEP! I’LL TURN YOU INTO A BAD POET WITH DREAMS! I’LL SET ALL YOUR TOENAILS GROWING INWARD, YOU MESS WITH ME!” (capitals mine) is answered with, “What are you talking about? You can’t turn cream into butter. I never did like you. You give yourself airs, and you’re not very strong.”

“A bloodshot moon burst out of the clouds, and the unicorn saw her – swollen gold, her streaming hair kindling, the slow, cold wings shaking the cage.” I love it. Some people don’t, but I just love it. It’s indigo prose, not purple, so far as I am concerned. In another story, it might not work. But it does here.

On the whole this book is just masterful, but there are moments when Beagle feels just a little self indulgent in a way that calls attention to itself. The Unicorn telling Arachne, “It’s very attractive, but it’s not art,” on her way to free the Harpy from her cage feels this way to me. So does, “Have a taco,” (which we haven’t reached yet, but it’s one of the few things in this book I sort of hate, so it’s present in my mind.)

[hotvintagepoll]

This is a three-way poll. Only one of these women will continue to the next round of the bracket.

Propaganda

Deborah Kerr (Bonjour Tristesse, An Affair to Remember, The King and I)— For several decades she held the record for most Oscar nominations without a win (6 in total), and she was a prolific leading lady throughout the 40s and 50s. She's best known today for the romance An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant, and as the governess in The King and I. Many people have this erroneous perception of her as extremely prim, proper, and virginal, but this could not be further from the truth. When she first came to Hollywood under MGM she was typecast into boring decorative roles, but broke sexual boundaries for herself and Hollywood generally in From Here to Eternity, when she made out (horizontally!) with Burt Lancaster (on top of him!) in the famous Beach Scene. She went on to play many sexually conflicted women, a character type that would define most of her post- Eternity work. She continued to break Hays Code boundaries with Tea and Sympathy, which addresses homosexuality/homophobia head-on, and even did a topless scene in The Gypsy Moths 1969!! One of the only classic stars to do so. She deserves a more nuanced and frankly a hotter legacy than she currently has!!!

Keiko Awaji (Stray Dog, A Japanese Tragedy, When a Woman Ascends the Stairs)— Her role as Harumi— a dancer who lives with her mom and will go to incredible lengths for one nice dress— is so fucking killer. she more than holds her own against Toshiro Mifune, the incredible sense of dread and foreboding in their scenes has really stuck with me

Hazel Scott (Broadway Rhythm, Rhapsody in Blue)—ok ok let me tell you about Hazel Scott. She was a Trinidadian piano genius. By the age of 3 she could play the piano by ear. She would play jazzed-up versions of classics in nightclubs and could sing too! She appeared in five movies, and used her influence as a piano prodigy to improve Black representation in film—she turned down offensive parts, demanded equal pay, and always wore her own costumes to ensure she was portrayed as glamorous and beautiful. She was the first African-American woman to host her own television show, The Hazel Scott Show. She stood up for civil rights and was an overall icon! If you want to watch her being a genius, here she is playing two pianos at once. And here's this one that shows off her consummate glamor! [videos beneath the cut]

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Deborah Kerr:

I think she was one of my first crushes before I realised I was bi in The King and I when I watched it as a kid honestly. The kissing scene in From Here to Eternity is iconic for a reason. Actually tried to learn the accents for the characters she was playing if they weren't English which is more than pretty much anyone else was doing then. Played very restrained characters who frequently seemed to be desperate not to be so restrained. Did horror movies without venturing into hagsploitation tropes. Gave Marni Nixon the credit she deserved for her share of the singing in The King and I.

Anne Larsen is a peak late 1950s bisexual with big MILF energy. Have you seen the behind the scenes pics of her wearing a suit?? Have you????? Vote Deb as Anne Larsen.

Nominated for an Oscar six (6) times and never won, but besides her having actual talent (hot), and besides her looking Like That (very hot, also beautiful), she was always playing women who are, like, crazy repressed. Which makes it fun and easy for me to read these characters as queer. Icon!!!! You know what's hot? Playing ambiguously gay in vintage Hollywood.

Her face and talent and body, yes, ofc, duh. But also!!! Her HANDS!!!! I may be but a simple lesbian, but she is the best hactor (hand actor) that ever lived and that's HOT! For propriety's sake I feel I must redact a large portion of my commentary on this subject. Anyway. She's hot in her most famous roles (mentioned above), and also some of her sexiest hacting is on display in An Affair to Remember (her hand on the bannister when Cary Grant kisses her off-screen??? HELLO???), Tea and Sympathy (when she's trying to persuade Tom not to go out and she keeps flexing her hands like she wants to reach out to him but can't??? ALLY BEHAVIOR! WE STAN!), and The Innocents (which opens and closes with extended shots of her hands bc director Jack Clayton was also an ally and he did that for ME). Much of her appeal also lies in the fact that she often played deeply repressed characters and you know what's hot? When those uptight characters finally unravel. It's sexy. It's cathartic. It's erotic. Plus, she's beautiful to look at in both black & white and technicolor, and the more of her films you see, the more you can't help but fall in love!

Literally is in thee most famously sexy scene of all time (or maybe just during the hays code era which is what we're talking about HELLO), which is the beach scene with Burt Lancaster in from here to eternity. To quote a tumblr post of a screen capture of a tweet of a video of joy behar on the view: "y'know, there used to be movies where they were kissing on the beach... From Here to Eternity. They're kissing-- Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are Kissing on the Beach and then the WAVES crash!! You know exactly what they did!"

She might have a reputation of being chaste and virginal or whatever, but we all know it's the quiet ones who are certifiable FREAKS

Keiko Awaji:

Hazel Scott:

[wildcreativemastermind]

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley Review

Based on what bits I had gleaned from pop culture, I had expected this book to be very different than it was. I was expecting it to be simple. I was expecting it to really try to be scary. Possibly good if you're into monster stories, maybe some content to make you sad, but really not much to make you think.

What I got was very different. On scary, it's a terrifying situation, but the book is honestly more of a tragedy than a horror. I didn't come away from it scared, I came away from it more contemplative (and pondering happy aus).

For my thoughts without spoilers, this book was better than I had thought it would be. I'm generally not into horror, but it's a compelling story. It's pretty easy to read. If you have any amount of interest in reading the book I suggest you do so. The one thing I will warn you about is that Victor (the main character) gets into a relationship with his cousin/adoptive sibling (so a bit of incest tones).

some advice if you haven't read the book 1. don't rely on (or honestly even read or watch) a summary before checking out the book. everyone who's read it has certain opinions about the characters (I'm mainly talking Victor Frankenstein, but this applies to the other characters too) and I think the experience is better if you don't have your opinion on the characters influenced by others beforehand. 2. be prepared for it take awhile to get to the monster stuff. 3. there are 2 versions of Frankenstein (story is basically the same, but the later publication was heavily edited) it was first published in 1818, and an edited version was published in 1831. The later one tends to be the more popular one. If you want to read the original version, you may have to specify like "frankenstein 1818"

My thoughts with some spoilers are under the cut. I strongly recommend you do not read anything under the cut unless you have read the entire book already.

Characters

Victor Frankenstein

A self-centered asshole with no regard for consequences. I applaud Mary Shelley for being able to get me invested in Victor's life. I do not usually get invested in asshole protagonists. I generally want my protagonist to be a good person, but Victor Frankenstein is not a good person.

However, he is interesting and honestly, pretty understandable. He's not the most relatable protagonist in that he's far more privileged than the vast majority of people (he's part of a wealthy and very accepting of him family, he's extremely scientifically intelligent) though there were a couple of moments where I found him to be a relatable character.

I understood why he was making terrible decisions, but I still wanted to slap him.

the Creature

I was kind of surprised about his character. He's beautiful and intelligent, which I did not expect when I started the book. While he's sympathetic, he very much is a monster. I did feel sorry for him, but also he's a murderer and he knows murder is wrong, so it's not like he's really someone to root for.

Henry Clerval

best boy, he deserved better

Elizabeth

Was she even really a character? Ok, I didn't really care about her. Her death was sad I guess, but I wasn't really sad about her dying so much as annoyed at Victor for not thinking of someone other than himself for two seconds. She seems to exist to show us what the Frankenstein's are like (only willing to adopt her because she's blonde) and to be murdered to hurt Victor. She is Victor's canon love interest, but she didn't really have chemistry with him. Normally I don't really do the 'going for non-canon gay couple over canon straight couple' thing fandom likes to do, but in this case there is actually more chemistry between Victor and Henry than there is between Victor and Elizabeth. Plus Victor and Henry aren't related and weren't raised as siblings so...

We don't really get Elizabeth's thoughts on her relationship with Victor, which is basically her entire character once she's been taken in by the Frankenstein's, and what little we do get I'm not sure can be entirely trusted.

Non character stuff

I was slightly annoyed at how long it took to get through Robert Walton's section at the beginning. I don't dislike him, but I knew this wasn't his story so I spent chunk of his part thinking 'get to the story already!' I get what Shelley was doing, though I think that part could have been a little shorter.

Aside from that, I don't have any complaints. The book is really good. I felt for both Victor and the creature. While I'm not gonna want to read it all the time, I do think I will revisit this book more than once.

[knowltonsrangers]

ideal location [ch.11]

Nathan Hale x F!Reader

To be honest, once again, you weren’t completely sure how you ended up here. You’ve found yourself saying that a lot lately, and while the confusion was there, it somehow just happened and you had no arguments.

“You are entertained by this?”

In reality, you weren’t really expecting him to be scared of the film. He was a soldier, a spy-he’s probably has seen a lot more bloodshed than you’ll ever see in a lifetime.

But for him to be so close, so uncertain over a classic such as this, nearly in your lap as he stiffens at every jump-scare.

You’ve seen this movie more than a few times, it’s your favorite, and you’ve already messed with him by quoting some lines every now and then on perfect cue. If he didn’t think you were absolutely insane before this, he definitely thinks such now.

“Yeah, it’s not really about the gorey stuff for me, I like the cheap tricks. The silence and then a loud noise, yanno?”

“I do not understand how anyone would find this kind of genre to be something to enjoy.”

Nathan sniffs, startled once more as a knife falls to the ground on the television screen.

“Well, there’s plenty of other movies, you can have your pick—“

“No,”

His arm has come round the back of the sofa, but hasn’t quite touched your shoulders yet. You’ve barely noticed it, because he’s gotten so much closer to you over the course of the hour. It’s here, in the dim light of the tv light, you can notice his prominent features he has so graciously told you the stories of.

The scar that he received from gun powder exploding in his face, the mole on his neck.

You love them both. They’re both uniquely him.

But you also get to appreciate his freckles. His blue eyes, the way they flick back and forth to watch the main character get chased by the killer. His flaxen hair, since he’s let it out of his short ponytail, the way it frames his face.

He’s beautiful, and every time you look at him, you’re reminded of the thought.

“Does no one survive, y/n?”

Your eyes snap back to the screen, horrified he’s caught you staring.

“No…not really. There’s like six of these movies, always new characters and always the same killer.”

“So grotesque.”

Now, you’re certain he’s doing it on purpose, the way his hand casually drops down to sit in the crook of your neck.

You thought that was a twenty-first century man’s trick, but it really seemed to be the oldest trick in the book.

Beside you, Nathan is sweating. This, he’s decided, would be a simple, yet finite test. If you reacted negatively to the minuscule act, he would forget his affection and move forward without a word of it.

This, just makes things more complicated.

You don’t react, you if anything, move even more close, nestled into his side, albeit the pillow between you both.

Lord, you were going to kill him.

When the movie ends, you turn to go switch the television off, but his voice stops you.

“Are you tired?”

“No, why?”

“May we watch the second film? You said there are six,”

You laugh, feeling a tint of red cross your cheeks.

“You just said how disgusting they were, Nate. Not really in the business of making you watch stuff you don’t like, nor stuff that will keep you up at night.”

He looks mildly offended, arm retreating back to his side.

“But you enjoy them, no? I’d like to watch the rest.”

He catches himself.

“Well, not all of them tonight. But I would not mind another.”

What was it about this guy? Why was he…just so much better than any other person you’ve been in a relationship with?

He cared. A lot.

“You’d really sit through another two hours of cheap horror…for me?”

He appears confused by your question.

“If it is something you want, why not? This is new for me, I would like to enjoy them with you.”

Nathan shrugs.

“Maybe I will have an affection for them, too.”

Once more, he’s gotten you heart beating in your chest, pounding, making tears well up in your eyes just by his honest words.

“Uh—! y/n?! Why are you crying?”

Worried, and concerned, Nathan leans forward to better see your face in the horrible lighting from the television.

“No, I’m okay. Sorry, I don’t know what came over me—“

What man would sit here and watch a movie you love, even though he doesn’t? Why would he do anything with you at the drop of a dime?

He could have just abused you and your resources, up and left here the moment you couldn’t help him immediately. But he’s stayed.

Was your ex that really of a shitty person, that he makes Nathan look like an angel?

Well, yes. But, Nathan Hale really is, a genuine, kind, and loving person.

“Let’s start the second one.”

You insist.

“Alright…If you are certain.”

He is not convinced of your terrible lie, but decides to table it for the time being. Instead, he smiles to no one but himself as the title screen for the second movie appears.

“You know, if I ever went back…I do not think I would ever be able to explain this is what the future is. The future exists, the future we fought for…”

His voice trails as he catches you staring, your eyes bleary but sparkling all in the same moment.

“What would be the first thing you would try to explain? The television, or the toaster?”

He hasn’t heard a word you’ve said, because the only thing he’s looking at is your lips, and the way they move when you talk.

Sitting down, he can admire you. Relatively the same height, to his advantage, here, he can follow the way your eyes move, catch the rosy hue on your cheeks, and see the soft laughter lines that come out with every smile you give him.

From either side, the action was done at the same exact moment. He leaned down, you crept up, and as your hand falls to his chest, his comes to cradle your cheek.

And you aren’t entirely sure why, but it was the most magical moment you’ve ever experienced in your entire life.

Beside you, Nathan isn’t entirely sure why he didn’t do this any other moment he’s had, because it was the most amazing moment he’s ever experienced in his entire life.

you kissed.

[a/n: THIS IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER tO DATE. THIS IS MY FAVORITE THING I’VE EVER WRITTEN.]

[mrcowboysmovieroom]

Bad Dreams (1988)

Directed by: Andrew Fleming Genre: Horror, thriller, psychological (SORT OF LOL.. It wants to be)

CW: Suicide and gore are in this film and I touch upon those subjects in the review pretty early on and throughout where it’s relevant. Just not in a lot of detail and no clips/images from those scenes are included. Originally written 04/10/2023

So, not bad. Not bad at all. Not to damn it by opening with such muted praise but you have to understand something about the 80s and their thriller movies okay. There were a lot of them, and a few really great ones popularized a certain look. This look. In fact, there are plenty of comparisons to be made between this and Nightmare on Elm Street (1984).

To clarify there isn't anything wrong with this look, I'm just saying that they have it okay? I like the look. The look is what got me to watch this movie in the first place. However, the look can't guarantee a good film. The abundance of these types of movies means there's a lot of shit to sift through.

So is Bad Dreams good, or is it a dullard wearing the skin of a much more interesting film?

Mmmm yeah, it's good! Of course, you see my hesitation. I could certainly see myself recommending this but likely not first though. It is neither so absurdly bad or bizarre like Shocker (1989) or fantastically brilliant as to warrant much more regard than I've given it.

In any case, I am moving a little past the point. So, onto the movie.

Bad Dreams is pretty simple in its setup but it's delivered fairly well. Cynthia (Jennifer Rubin) is the only survivor of a mass suicide by the cult Unity Field. They're a religious, free-love type from the 70s. Their leader is the enigmatic Harris (Richard Lynch). He's a real weirdo, but a well performed one. He's got strange nicknames for members and calls Cynthia "love child".

The final moments of the cult feature the members having spoons of gasoline poured on them for an ironic baptism before Harris pours the rest on himself and lights up the house they're in. We learn that within Unity Field this is considered the most beautiful act that could have been taken to members within. A final act that only benevolent god could offer.

Following the incident, Cynthia is in a coma for 13 years. When she awakes she is kept in a mental hospital as no other family can be found, and she's put into regular group therapy with patients who have borderline disorders.

The facility is run by Dr. Berrisford (Harris Yulin), but the group itself is manned by his young, very adorable assistant Alex Karmen (Bruce Abbott). As is typical when movies take place in mental hospitals- each of the patients are very diversely eccentric. I don't think any of them come off as offensive portrayals and the supporting cast is pretty strong throughout.

At first, Cynthia doesn't remember much about the cult accept their mission statement and the general "good vibes" they had. But soon the medication starts, and so do the dreams. They're actually not dreams. She hallucinates while awake. So, get fucked inaccurate movie name…

Actually, the title and the taglines are frankly confusing and borderline dishonest.

"When Cynthia wakes up, she'll wish she were dead…" The movie never emphasizes her waking nor sleeping, and as I said the "dreams" aren't really dreams. The poster I included for this review makes even less sense. "The scream you don't hear... is your own." What? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN. They just have absolutely nothing to do with the events that take place in the film.

Anyway SO BACK TO THE MOVIE. This is a thriller movie so guess what? The other patients start to die. Suspiciously the deaths look like suicides or accidents but it's only happening within Cynthia's group and she happens to be there for most of them. Much of her hallucinations coincide with the murders as well, acting as premonitions but also possibly implicating her to the audience.

After all, we don't know how the fire and the struggle of waking up in another decade with no one she recognizes or cares about will manifest in her. Hallucinations or her flashbacks seem the very least of possible outcomes she could have.

Each death ranges in intensity. The grossest is the couple who fall into the turbines. It was certainly the goriest of them, but that causes it to be my favorite. The practical effects are really good in this movie too. They hold up really well, even when in the closeups.

Nearing the climax, the detective keeping an eye on Cynthia believes that she must be involved somehow. While she doesn't seem to have killed anyone herself (and it would have been impossible for her to have done so), he thinks she may have convinced them to kill themselves using that cult speak she picked up in her youth.

You see, he doesn't think she could possibly be a victim- in fact he suggests she was an accomplice. Even though she was like 13 when the fire happened. Even if she had been more directly involved as the detective suggests, it's very unrealistic to think a child could be responsible for their actions in a situation like that. You know, one where there are much stronger and scarier adults everywhere, and you've been brainwashed. But hey, maybe this is what people would have thought in the 80s and this detective actually seems reasonable.

So, to keep her from being arrested she's put in isolation by Dr. Berrisford. Alex protests that isolation is the antithesis of what she needs, but in the face of his protests Berrisford fires him. Shortly after, in his frustration Alex takes some ✨DRUGS✨ and has a violent dream of him killing Berrisford with his car. It's then that Alex realizes that something is horribly wrong! And if you want to know what- watch the movie or continue on...

Obviously PATIENTS WITH BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDERS SHOULD NOT TAKE STUFF LIKE THOSE DRUGS LMFAAOOOOO… So why were they given them?? Well Berrisford is testing his theories you see? If only someone had asked him about his theories!

He's been putting Cynthia in the center of this test, using the deaths of the other patients to act as other pawns in his research, but also to trigger her memories and get her to kill herself? I mean that is what happens, but I'm not sure why he wants her to decide to kill herself. I guess I could have missed it, but I don't think Berrisford ever says his thesis outright.

Alex puts this all together and rushes to prevent Cynthia's death, as she is the last of the group alive. First, he goes to find Cynthia in the isolation room and then gets knocked out. Slay. You are killing it Alex.

Cynthia goes to the roof with Berrisford, but she sees in his place Harris. The reveal that Berrisford is the bad guy implies that several of her hallucinations may have in fact been her witnessing Berrisford prior to the murder. Not every hallucination works this way though.

Well, just as Cynthia jumps Alex gets to the roof in time to stop her. Or well he's holding her over the edge of the building and demanding she wake up and help him pull herself up. As a part of his motivational speech he professes his love for her, which is an expected but nonetheless confusing addition.

They're implied to be attracted to one another throughout the film, but there aren't really any scenes which justify the apparent close regard he holds for her. The movie ends without them formally getting together, but it seems unnecessary altogether. But hey, that's straight people and their desire for everyone to end up in a relationship ain't it?

In the end with nothing left to do or lose, Berrisford kills himself. Over all this is a good film but it's not very exceptional in what it's doing and there is something a little underwhelming about it all. The performances really carry this movie and make it a lot more worthwhile than it might be otherwise. It would have been easy for this movie to really stink on ice. As it stands though, it's actually quite fun. So, if you like movies like this, you should give it a shot.

Final verdict; 6/10

Also interesting fun fact- Originally the Andrew Flemming wanted the end song to be Burning House of Love by X. Which in my opinion would have been even funnier and on the nose than the song they did use, Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N' Roses. I mean how can you beat lines like:

A couple of years ago

When the smoke and flame called my name

It was a burning house of love

Yeah, a burning house of love

[unbreakabledawn]

Clark was staring.

Which wasn't unusual in and of itself; Clark enjoyed things like that, enjoyed looking just for the simple joy of appreciating that which he found beautiful. For someone who had seen so much of the world's horror and ugliness, Clark also possessed the ability to see the good in even the smallest and most unremarkable places.

On their walks through the Manor's garden, he'd watch the bumblebees flit and buzz about the lavender and the yarrow. He'd watch the sunset from the balcony of their bedroom, and the sunrise from between the curtains when they were wrapped in each others arms. He'd watch the push and pull of the ocean's tide when they walked along the beach, hand in hand. He'd watch the stars burn and blaze from a darkened rooftop, when all Bruce could see was the layer of clouds and smog that perpetually covered Gotham's night sky.

Maybe it was another way for him to show how deeply he loved the world and what lived in it. Now, he watched Bruce with that same quiet adoration, the corners of his eyes softly creased with gentle wonder. And...well. Bruce was aware he was staring, too. It was how he'd noticed Clark's eyes on him in the first place.

Bruce was the one to break eye contact, if only to find Clark's hand so he could bring it to his face and kiss the gold band on his ring finger. He leaned back against the pillows and looked up at Clark again.

"What are you thinking about?" Bruce murmured, letting Clark move his hand to caress the line of his jaw, the side of his cheek, skimming upwards to the hair of his temple. A smile bloomed on Clark's face, bright and beautiful.

"Time," Clark said, and Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"Are you calling me old?"

"No," Clark lied. "Though you are going gray."

"I've been going gray for years."

"Yeah," Clark said, running a hand through Bruce's hair, "but I haven't really appreciated it, until now."

Bruce grimaced. "I'm not sure if impending doom is something you should appreciate."

"Pessimist," Clark teased. "It's a sign of all the time we've spent together, the years that have passed and the love we've shared. And it reminds me of all the years we still have left. All the ways we've yet learned how to love."

"Sentimentalist," Bruce shot back, even as he let Clark stroke his hair. Clark sat back and pulled Bruce's legs into his lap, still gazing lovingly at Bruce with that tender smile.

"Well, I think it's beautiful. Don't you?"

Bruce looked at Clark's brilliant smile, the cerulean of his eyes dimmed to a paler blue by his glasses, the near-imperceptible creases between his brows of a man who aged too slowly. Bruce looked at his partner and husband and the love of his life. "It is," he agreed.

my kingdom for more soft superbat fluff 🙏 love your art!

hello! :D