#Third World Farmer

[g4zdtechtv]

THE PILE PRESENTS: X-Play - Blades of Time Well Wasted | 4/17/12

Don't be a Vaas-hole.

(4GTV - 24/7. LIVE. WATCH NOW.)

[publicuniversalenemy]

am i perhaps THEE luckiest guy inthe world? sources point to Yes

[brawley1492]

During enormous "LOCUST" plagues!

Very fine "Mist Nests"

Could be used to catch locusts!

To help farmers

Ground as fertilisers

Mixed with green waste as fertilisers

Grindings mixed with fermented effluent fertilisers, to use safely on farms

Food (a high source of protein)

Would help "third worlds" countries to get rid of crop destroying pests!

I wonder would they be tasty, cooked and chocolate coated? ... William

[ceesimz]

Lavender

A date that unfortunately doesn't go as planned. (autistic!reader - angst -> fluff)

Reverie series here as always! A verrrry real experience depicted in this one, with some amazing help from @pickledwoso that i am very grateful for, thank youuu <3

“Engel, are you ready to leave?” Alexia sang as she headed out of the bedroom towards where you were at the door rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, waiting for her.

“Yes, you fool, I've been ready for the past half hour.” You rolled your eyes at her teasingly, laughing when she lightly pawed at your side where she knew you were ticklish. “Come on! You're taking all day.”

“Ay, it is our day-off, I can take my time for once. No rushing, just calm, and me and you.” She gave an alluring smile, sliding her hand down your arm until she intertwined your fingers, then leaned forwards to kiss your forehead. “Are you excited?”

“Very. I love when we do this.” You told her with a squeeze of her hand. The girl grinned, her eyes brimming with excitement and complete happiness seeping from her pores, like the prospect of visiting a farmer's market with her girlfriend was as exciting as a third Ballon d’Or.

“Me too.” She gently knocked your chin up and pecked your lips before brushing back a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, are we ready, mi vida?”

“For the love of god, yes!”

Any time the club issued some days-off, one of the things highest on the list for yourself and Alexia was visiting the local farmer’s market. You’d buy the best of the best fresh organic products and cook together a dish of food that, combined with the quality time you'd spend with each other, would make for a night-in together that was so much better than going out somewhere. 

These days had become somewhat of a tradition, and with it being the penultimate day of the short summer break after the tournament Alexia had gone to, it was absolute perfection. The last day had no plans apart from relaxing and spending time together before the season started again. You couldn't think of a better way to spend the last bit of time off than a date to a familiar, easy place with Alexia that was sure to give way for a fun afternoon and evening.

With it being the height of summer, Barcelona was especially warm, which was perhaps the first warning sign of the day.

“Ale, you really need to get your car in the garage, your AC sucks.” You groaned, the vents on full blast yet hardly doing a thing to cool you down against the 35 degree air outside. Your window was open and your head rested against the door dramatically, Alexia couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight even if she did feel a little bad about it.

“It’s got a service next week, they will fix it then. Sorry.” She winced, hardly breaking a sweat in the weather she was more than acclimated to whilst you seemed to be struggling before the pair of you had even left the car.

You shrugged her off because it's not exactly her fault her car's AC has been faulty since the spring, and focused all your attention on the life-saving breeze hitting your face as Alexia maneuvered through some tame midday traffic. Hot weather wasn't one of your favourite things in the world, as a matter of fact much more comfortable in minus degree weather with tiny icicles on your eyelashes, but a year into living under the blaze of the Barna sun you had no choice but to put up with it.

Though, your patience with the heat wore off quick. And in its wake, a simmering feeling of restlessness, which should have been yet another warning sign. But you were too deep in your determination for this to be a good day for anything to write you off.

The market was only a short drive away, the two of you having opted out of walking because, well, duh, the weather, and just as the sweat that found its place on your nose no more than five minutes after stepping out of your ice cold shower finally began to evaporate, it came crawling right back the second you got out of the car. Alexia was starting to feel uneasy about the day's plans, and, really, so were you, but you were set on pushing through the constrictive feeling that had settled in your bones when the first bit of heat came your way after leaving your flat. There wouldn't be much time in the coming weeks for a day like this with your girlfriend, you weren't about to wreck it for the both of you.

From where the car was parked to the entrance of the market, you walked in silence, hand in hand across slightly worn stone tiles until the rusted old gates of the park stood before you. Over the threshold of the entrance, paved tiles turning to cobble, you knew the chaos the market had in store for you. You didn’t know if you could handle it. The writing on the wall was in the prickly sensation in your skin that was all too familiar, as was the way every nerve in your body screamed in discomfort, almost like your soul was desperately trying to find a way out of your body.

You ignored it, and headed towards the stalls before Alexia could ask how you were.

This place was familiar; you knew the ins and outs of each stall, you knew where to go, you knew how long it took to get around. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? 

You loved this place, of course it’d be fine. It beamed with energy, with good vibes, with good people. With its colourful displays of the finest fruit and vegetables, it was more than just a market; it was the heartbeat of the surrounding neigbourhoods.

All kinds of scents and aromas swirled around each corner, weaving themselves into the fabrics of people’s clothes and lingering long after they’d left. They were intoxicatingly good, and it was evident in the looks of wonder on everybody’s face, old or young, experienced shopper or recent newcomer. Vendors positioned at every stall or tattered wagon called out their offerings in a chaotic yet melodic mix of Spanish and Catalan, grabbing the nearest fruit or veg to wave around like an auctioneer with a hammer, the only use for it being to wave off the flies dancing tauntingly around their goods. 

Locals haggled over prices with the farmers they’d come to know just as well as their own family; their loud and boisterous back-and-forth banter may have sounded like arguing to unknowing tourists, but to everyone else it was understood as just some good-humoured ribbing that they all delighted in. It was more of a shuffle than a walk throughout the place thanks to the tourists that seemed to stop in the middle of the aisles every second, clearly oblivious to the well-practiced dance of the locals. Elderly ladies pulled their clueless esposos around with one arm whilst they carried their wicker basket in the other, the woven willow groaning under the weight of the countless ingredients to be used in that night’s meal.

For a moment, as you paused off to the side whilst Alexia caught up with one of the stall owners, a fisherman with his catches of the week proudly on display, which you knew your girlfriend would end the conversation by buying enough fish meat to feed the five thousand, you took a moment to breathe. Everybody seemed relieved of their life’s burdens here, gathered closely in one space that was steeped in the essence of the world’s simplest pleasures; flavour, tradition, and community. Only, the smile that was usually imprinted on your face whenever you came was no more than a distant memory. 

Despite the fairly shadowed area, considering the park was fenced in by sporadic trees that skimmed the roofs of buildings that showed off the city’s beautiful architecture, it was still insufferably hot. It radiated off of the ground, rebounded off the buildings around, and the flurry of structures meant there was no wind breaking through to give a cool Mediterranean breeze like you had before. 

Alexia seemed none the wiser, enraptured by the surroundings like it was her first time there, her head on a swivel and marveling at the mouth-wateringly exceptional variety of things to choose from. You hadn’t really been taking it in, your eyes stuck to the back of her head as you followed her through, waiting on shaking legs whenever she laughed and joked with each worker she bought from. 

This labyrinth of every cook’s dream was well and truly alive, but you weren’t. You couldn’t absorb the intense feeling of belonging and sonder you got whenever you came here. It was too much. The thought ate away at you, as with every fly that landed on your skin or every person that brushed against you, you became more and more on edge. 

All the different smells, the different sounds, the crowd of people, they didn’t spark those usual feelings of contentment and peace that transpired for you normally. Instead, they felt oppressive, like they were attacking your senses. 

The concoction of aromas forced themselves inside your nose and overloaded you completely, the squeamish smell of fish and the fiery linger of hundreds of kinds of herbs and spices bringing on a pounding headache. Every squeak of a wicker basket as the willow was put under more pressure could have been a gunshot for all you knew, the way it echoed around the tunnels of your ears. Anytime someone briefly put a hand on you as they moved past had you flinching, hating the unexpected contact as it was the last thing you needed in such a situation.

You didn’t find any comfort whatsoever in how Alexia’s hand never left yours for more than a minute, when normally it was something that grounded you. Her usually funny comments and little facts and point-outs of detail about her ‘second home’ (the name she had given it as she’d been coming here since she was young) didn’t make you feel any brighter, in fact you were pretty sure you missed most of them.

And as every minute passed, it appeared to get busier and busier, until it started to feel like you were in some kind of mosh pit, people bouncing off of you with every turn only for the next one to come along no more than a second later. You couldn’t hear a word Alexia was speaking, the once calming mix of languages turned into a booming echo of voices that were so close they seemed to be knocking on the bone of your skull, yet too distant for you to make out what anyone was saying, making it all so. much. worse.

Every voice, every footstep, every hearty laughter and every scrape of wood along the floor grated against your ears, all noises around amplified to immeasurable heights. The space was far too loud and far too crowded – each sensation you felt blurred into the next until it became impossible to separate from one another. But you did feel how each individual muscle tensed, from your legs to your shoulders, as Alexia continued to pull you through the market. 

You were hyperaware of everything around you and it soon became unbearable. But Alexia was happy, she chatted away like nothing was happening, comfortable and content as her canvas bag brimmed with stuff you didn’t even realise she had bought. You soldiered on, or at least tried to.

Until, your breathing began to quicken, your lungs unable to take in any of the stuffy air you walked through, your chest tightening in a way that only caused you to panic impossibly more. Each piece of fabric from your clothes grazed against your skin like a hundred scratches in a single second, your shirt and shorts beginning to feel like they were getting tighter with each step you took. And when the claustrophobia, the feeling like there was no escape at all, began to really set in, the day was over.

Your resolve had completely eroded. You tried to focus on grounding yourself — reminding yourself this was a safe space, but that was an empty claim to make to your shredded composure. You tried convincing your mind that Alexia’s hand in yours was comforting, when it only felt constrictive, her hand wholly enveloping yours like a snake, leaving no room to breathe. You clenched and unclenched your fist in time with your breaths, but you couldn't even inhale for a second before your mind went into overdrive. All the tools you relied on before were inadequate in that moment. The rational part of your brain slipped away, instead replaced by an instinctive need to escape. 

Surges of anger, panic, anxiety, fear, they all rose uncontrollably at once. Your jaw clenched, your free hand curled into a tight fist, and your vision turned hazy as your world dissolved into one indistinct blur.

The snapping point came abruptly. Perhaps it was a shrill laugh nearby, the clatter of a crate being dropped, or an impatient shove from someone trying to pass by. It was the smallest thing, but it tipped the scale far out of anybody’s control. You were alone in that moment. Trapped completely in your mind.

You missed how Alexia called your name over and over, how her hand nudged yours to desperately try to grasp your attention. It was only when her hands grabbed both your forearms that you were brought back down, but only for half a millisecond, before it all went south.

“What?!” You snapped at her, jumping back out of her touch. 

As a result, there were about thirty pairs of eyes on you. Everybody around paused, your sharp shout cutting through the buzz of the market, and it went so quiet that every flutter of a fly’s wing and every creek of wood could be heard. 

You took another step back when Alexia came towards you, a worrisome look on her face with her hands out in front of her like she was trying to not spook an untrusting animal in front of her. She rushed out some words of reassurance that fell into the background with all the other noises around that had picked up again, the market-goers losing interest in a seemingly harmless situation. They didn’t register within you, nor did her intentions. Your mind was far too good at playing tricks on you, convincing you of things that were far from the truth but in the moment felt like gospel.

There was no way out of where you were, both in the physical and the mental sense, and that was the main factor in the eruption that had just happened. With so many emotions coursing through you, there was an intense itch to find a release from them all. So before you realised, your arms crossed over your chest, hands on your upper arms just above your elbow, and you began to roughly palm, rub, grab at the skin there, needing a distraction from the volume of your mind and the world, whilst also desperately trying to get the movement to act as a release of the crushing press of the feelings inside of you. 

If you were alone at that time, god only knows what would have happened. Fortunately you weren’t.

The next time Alexia touched you was the featherlight weight of her hand on your lower back, the minor contact enough to lead you through the winding paths of the market. Your legs ran on autopilot, but you stumbled with every few steps, eyes too blurry to see the bumps and dips in the cobbles underneath your feet. There were probably tears down your face, though you’d reached such a broken point that your body was just… numb. You weren’t in control of anything anymore, hadn’t been for a while, but this was a new extremity. You weren’t even present in your own mind. Just an innocent, unknowing passenger in the car crash that had come out of nowhere.

Somehow, with her own hands trembling from concern, Alexia managed to lead you out of the chaos of the market to those same rusted, paint-chipped gates from earlier— the entrance of the park area. She was lost on what to do or say, but rationally she knew the only thing that would work for you right now was getting you home. 

“I will drive us back to your flat, back home, okay?” 

You gave her no indication that you heard her, which she was expecting, though you had heard the one word you were in dire need of and it was the first thing so far that managed to break through into your overwhelmed mind. Your hands were still moving roughly against the skin of your arms, sure to leave marks afterwards, but Alexia knew if she attempted to stop you, it’d only make matters worse. She had to get you home. Seeing you like this was breaking her.

It took a concerningly small amount of effort to guide you to the car; you were pliant and mindless, the exhaustion having fully taken over the minute you left the crowded space. She opened the door for you, helped you into the seat, and put the belt on. You leaned your head back against the seat rest and stared straight ahead. Whether it’d help or not, Alexia wasn’t sure. But she had to do one thing, more for the sake of her sanity than yours. With a quiet call of your name, she gently put a hand under your chin and turned you so you faced her.

“I’ll take you home and look after you. You will be okay.” She whispered, tentatively brushing away some of the tears still on your cheeks with her thumb. Her words were a sentiment for her as much as they were for you. “You’ll be okay soon.”

—

Next thing you knew, you were in your bed, lay on your side with your weighted blanket over you and Alexia nowhere to be seen.

It was definitely the calm after the storm. The room was mostly dark apart from the light that bled through the curtains which were closed, you could hear the quiet whir of the AC as well as the dull hum of traffic on the street below, but that was about it. It was a stark contrast to how things were before.

You don’t exactly remember getting home after what happened after the market, but what you did know was that though Alexia wasn’t in the room, she had been at some point, because you felt her love in the way she made sure everything was properly set up for you. The AC hadn’t been on before you left earlier and it only could have come back on by someone turning it on. The curtains were open that morning, whereas now they were drawn. And last time you checked, your blanket was still in the dryer, waiting to be taken out when you got back. 

Everything you felt earlier still echoed faintly inside your head and chest, but the weighted blanket over you helped to anchor you back to your life again, rather than the chaos you were drowning in not so long ago. Your mind was convoluted, thoughts jumbled, and you flitted from one shattered fragment of insecurity to the other. You were simply too exhausted to hold onto any of them, emotionally and mentally drained. Though, you still tried to identify what you were feeling— was it anger? Shame? Embarrassment? You couldn’t put a finger on it. 

Your hands still shook, your chest still shuddered with every breath. Your clothes still felt scratchy and overbearing, just less so now that you lay in the aftermath of it all. Instead of focusing on that, you drifted your attention to the feeling of the blanket on you; you focused on its texture, its softness, the heaviness of it and how it draped over you and helped to extinguish the flame that was overstimulation and overwhelm. These small but familiar details offered a tiny foothold in the mirror maze of your mind that you were still trying to escape from, only for the ruined reflection of you at the market to be shown back to you.

The longer you spent in that position, a deep, bone-level weariness quietly consumed you, like every aspect of you right down to your soul had been drained. But even still, your mind continued its hyperactive ways, replaying the day’s events over and over like a faulty film reel. The memory of it isn’t the slightest bit cohesive, it was just flashes of moments— the suffocating press of people from every direction, clamour of voices, the overloading mixture of scents. You alternated between frustration and exasperation, wanting to desperately forget what happened whilst not being able to move on from the embarrassment of it. 

However, the strain of it slowly began to dissipate with each minute you spent back at home in bed, a safe space where there were no expectations, where time was temporarily unimportant, and where there were no watchful eyes or scathing glares at the disruption you’d caused. And eventually, you felt like you had gained back control of your mind again. It was quieter then; the world felt muted, less aggressive, though you could feel that you were still wary of your surroundings because of how everything ambushed you earlier.

You weren’t fully recovered, you still felt heavy and your body ached due to the tension in your muscles and joints when it all came falling down, and you weren’t sure how much time had passed but the sun sat a little lower on the horizon when you finally felt able to get out of bed. The desire for time alone had gone, you needed something else then, and at this point of the relationship you felt comfortable enough to seek exactly what you needed without giving it a second thought. 

The door to your room creaked like it always did when you opened it, your apartment mostly silent save for the occasional huff from the kitchen as the person you were looking for busied herself with any chore she could think of as she waited patiently for you. 

You didn’t quite know what to say, but one of the best things about your relationship was that often in times like this, words weren’t a necessity. So you bypassed her and headed straight for the sofa, sitting in the corner and curling your feet underneath you, almost like you were making yourself as small as possible. And, just as you expected, not a minute went by before the blonde headed over, trying to disguise the worry she felt by giving a tight-lipped smile that was more on the amusing side than the reassuring one.

When she sat down, however, she left a gap between you both and perched only on the edge, which wasn’t what you wanted. One shared glance later and Alexia was smiling properly this time, shuffling to sit back against the cushions and beckoning you over with a small wave of her hand. With a sheepish but slightly triumphant look on your face, you moved along the couch and chose to sit sideways on her lap, one of her arms immediately wrapping around your waist as the hand of the other landed just above your knee. She pulled you close to her, and you settled into her with a relieved sigh, indescribably glad to have the final piece of the puzzle to self-regulation in your possession.

For some time, the pair of you didn’t speak, only relishing in the comfort you both needed after the day that had been had. At some point, Alexia noticed the redness to your skin from earlier and subconsciously brought a hand up to one of your arms, her thumb gently tracing over them with a frown on her face. She felt compelled to speak then.

“Please, engel, don’t put yourself through uncomfortable situations just to make me happy. If you asked me to, I would have taken you home earlier in a heartbeat.” The midfielder said carefully, panicking a little when she heard you sigh before calming when you buried your face in her neck.

“I didn’t really know it was going to be uncomfortable until it was already happening.” You told her in a mumbled, downbeat tone that made her hug you tighter against her. She contemplated her next words, wondering whether it was wise to voice them or not, before deciding that you’d hate it if you found out she’d kept her feelings from you.

“I’ve never seen you like that before.�� Her fear and sadness was evident when she spoke, matching the frown still on her face and the furrow to her brow. You pressed your lips to the skin of her jaw in a somewhat apologetic gesture, which made her feel a little bad. “We’re both okay though, mi amor. I love you and we’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, this isn’t your fault. I don’t want you to feel guilty. It’s over now, it’s in the past, and we’re here together now.”

It might have been a minor reminder, but it relieved a lot of the remaining anxieties and insecurities you had. Even though she made sure you knew she never judged you for anything, you were only human, and sometimes the devil on your shoulder got the best of you. So, to hear her say she knew it wasn’t your fault and that she wasn’t angry, it was… very needed.

The mix of physical touch and words of affirmation never failed to work wonders for you. The period of time after an event like earlier was a delicate time to say the least, where your mind and your self-esteem was easily swayed by whatever reaction waited for you afterwards. Having Alexia be so welcoming, non-judgemental, caring and adoring even after what she’d witnessed made a world of a difference.

“Better day tomorrow?” You said shyly after moving back to look at her. She shook her head at first, which greatly confused you, before she smiled brightly, softly, reassuringly, and leaned forwards to kiss your temple.

“Better evening tonight after a bad day. And then a very good day tomorrow.” Her words were a little skewed, probably lost in translation, but you understand what she was getting at and it warmed your heart all the same.

It was important to you then, that you voiced your thoughts from just a moment ago. She had to know how important she was to you.

“Thank you, Ale. For everything.” You started, laughing quietly at the puzzled expression on her face. “You always know what to do, what to say. You always make me feel better after a day like this and I don’t know how you do it but… you changed my life.”

Her reaction was the sweetest. Her cheeks blushed red and she turned away for a moment with a tiny disbelieving shake of her head.

“I don’t know about that, cariño.” She murmured, but you weren’t having it. You put a hand on her cheek and turned her face back to you, ensuring she met your gaze before you spoke again.

“You did. I really mean it. I think about it a lot, how you’ve changed me, how I see myself because of you and how you treat me.” You paused for a moment, smiling up at her as her eyes silently urged you to continue. “I… value myself more because of how you value me. I don’t tell you enough how grateful I am for you and what you really mean to me. You’re the greatest person I have ever met.”

The normally sure and confident captain was rendered speechless in that moment, completely caught off guard and lost for words. How she could ever match the gravity and beauty of your words, she didn’t know. But they meant so much more to her than she knew she could ever express.

Ale ducked her head down for a moment as she really took in your words, before she lifted it back up again a moment later, with tears in her eyes. 

If only you knew how much you meant to her too.

“You’re my favourite person in the world, you know that?” She said with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow, almost accusing you of foolishly being uncertain about the fact that she stated so definitively. You knew she only did that to deflect the softness of her words a little. So, you just smiled, and tucked your head back into her neck and closed your eyes, completely at peace. “My favourite person in the whole world. You changed my life too.”

—

i really really tried my best to encapsulate the autistic experience of being overstimulated and overwhelmed in such a place here but i have no idea how well it comes across to a large audience. but for me and probably others, this is the reality, no matter how much you can plan and prepare and be excited for something, it can spiral out of your control so quickly and it's definitely a downer when it happens. hope this is somewhat understandable, im gonna go hibernate out of fear now, thank you v much for reading :)

[reasonsforhope]

Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi is, by some measures, the most popular leader in the world. Prior to the 2024 election, his Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) held an outright majority in the Lok Sabha (India’s Parliament) — one that was widely projected to grow after the vote count. The party regularly boasted that it would win 400 Lok Sabha seats, easily enough to amend India’s constitution along the party's preferred Hindu nationalist lines.

But when the results were announced on Tuesday, the BJP held just 240 seats. They not only underperformed expectations, they actually lost their parliamentary majority. While Modi will remain prime minister, he will do so at the helm of a coalition government — meaning that he will depend on other parties to stay in office, making it harder to continue his ongoing assault on Indian democracy.

So what happened? Why did Indian voters deal a devastating blow to a prime minister who, by all measures, they mostly seem to like?

India is a massive country — the most populous in the world — and one of the most diverse, making its internal politics exceedingly complicated. A definitive assessment of the election would require granular data on voter breakdown across caste, class, linguistic, religious, age, and gender divides. At present, those numbers don’t exist in sufficient detail. 

But after looking at the information that is available and speaking with several leading experts on Indian politics, there are at least three conclusions that I’m comfortable drawing.

First, voters punished Modi for putting his Hindu nationalist agenda ahead of fixing India’s unequal economy. Second, Indian voters had some real concerns about the decline of liberal democracy under BJP rule. Third, the opposition parties waged a smart campaign that took advantage of Modi’s vulnerabilities on the economy and democracy.

Understanding these factors isn’t just important for Indians. The country’s election has some universal lessons for how to beat a would-be authoritarian — ones that Americans especially might want to heed heading into its election in November.

-via Vox, June 7, 2024. Article continues below.

A new (and unequal) economy

Modi’s biggest and most surprising losses came in India’s two most populous states: Uttar Pradesh in the north and Maharashtra in the west. Both states had previously been BJP strongholds — places where the party’s core tactic of pitting the Hindu majority against the Muslim minority had seemingly cemented Hindu support for Modi and his allies.

One prominent Indian analyst, Yogendra Yadav, saw the cracks in advance. Swimming against the tide of Indian media, he correctly predicted that the BJP would fall short of a governing majority.

Traveling through the country, but especially rural Uttar Pradesh, he prophesied “the return of normal politics”: that Indian voters were no longer held spellbound by Modi’s charismatic nationalist appeals and were instead starting to worry about the way politics was affecting their lives.

Yadav’s conclusions derived in no small part from hearing voters’ concerns about the economy. The issue wasn’t GDP growth — India’s is the fastest-growing economy in the world — but rather the distribution of growth’s fruits. While some of Modi’s top allies struck it rich, many ordinary Indians suffered. Nearly half of all Indians between 20 and 24 are unemployed; Indian farmers have repeatedly protested Modi policies that they felt hurt their livelihoods.

“Everyone was talking about price rise, unemployment, the state of public services, the plight of farmers, [and] the struggles of labor,” Yadav wrote...

“We know for sure that Modi’s strongman image and brassy self-confidence were not as popular with voters as the BJP assumed,” says Sadanand Dhume, a senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute who studies India. 

The lesson here isn’t that the pocketbook concerns trump identity-based appeals everywhere; recent evidence in wealthier democracies suggests the opposite is true. Rather, it’s that even entrenched reputations of populist leaders are not unshakeable. When they make errors, even some time ago, it’s possible to get voters to remember these mistakes and prioritize them over whatever culture war the populist is peddling at the moment.

Liberalism strikes back

The Indian constitution is a liberal document: It guarantees equality of all citizens and enshrines measures designed to enshrine said equality into law. The signature goal of Modi’s time in power has been to rip this liberal edifice down and replace it with a Hindu nationalist model that pushes non-Hindus to the social margins. In pursuit of this agenda, the BJP has concentrated power in Modi’s hands and undermined key pillars of Indian democracy (like a free press and independent judiciary).

Prior to the election, there was a sense that Indian voters either didn’t much care about the assault on liberal democracy or mostly agreed with it. But the BJP’s surprising underperformance suggests otherwise.

The Hindu, a leading Indian newspaper, published an essential post-election data analysis breaking down what we know about the results. One of the more striking findings is that the opposition parties surged in parliamentary seats reserved for members of “scheduled castes” — the legal term for Dalits, the lowest caste grouping in the Hindu hierarchy.

Caste has long been an essential cleavage in Indian politics, with Dalits typically favoring the left-wing Congress party over the BJP (long seen as an upper-caste party). Under Modi, the BJP had seemingly tamped down on the salience of class by elevating all Hindus — including Dalits — over Muslims. Yet now it’s looking like Dalits were flocking back to Congress and its allies. Why?

According to experts, Dalit voters feared the consequences of a BJP landslide. If Modi’s party achieved its 400-seat target, they’d have more than enough votes to amend India’s constitution. Since the constitution contains several protections designed to promote Dalit equality — including a first-in-the-world affirmative action system — that seemed like a serious threat to the community. It seems, at least based on preliminary data, that they voted accordingly.

The Dalit vote is but one example of the ways in which Modi’s brazen willingness to assail Indian institutions likely alienated voters.

Uttar Pradesh (UP), India’s largest and most electorally important state, was the site of a major BJP anti-Muslim campaign. It unofficially kicked off its campaign in the UP city of Ayodhya earlier this year, during a ceremony celebrating one of Modi’s crowning achievements: the construction of a Hindu temple on the site of a former mosque that had been torn down by Hindu nationalists in 1992. 

Yet not only did the BJP lose UP, it specifically lost the constituency — the city of Faizabad — in which the Ayodhya temple is located. It’s as direct an electoral rebuke to BJP ideology as one can imagine.

In Maharashtra, the second largest state, the BJP made a tactical alliance with a local politician, Ajit Pawar, facing serious corruption charges. Voters seemingly punished Modi’s party for turning a blind eye to Pawar’s offenses against the public trust. Across the country, Muslim voters turned out for the opposition to defend their rights against Modi’s attacks.

The global lesson here is clear: Even popular authoritarians can overreach.

By turning “400 seats” into a campaign slogan, an all-but-open signal that he intended to remake the Indian state in his illiberal image, Modi practically rang an alarm bell for constituencies worried about the consequences. So they turned out to stop him en masse.

The BJP’s electoral underperformance is, in no small part, the direct result of their leader’s zealotry going too far.

Return of the Gandhis? 

Of course, Modi’s mistakes might not have mattered had his rivals failed to capitalize. The Indian opposition, however, was far more effective than most observers anticipated.

Perhaps most importantly, the many opposition parties coordinated with each other. Forming a united bloc called INDIA (Indian National Developmental Inclusive Alliance), they worked to make sure they weren’t stealing votes from each other in critical constituencies, positioning INDIA coalition candidates to win straight fights against BJP rivals.

The leading party in the opposition bloc — Congress — was also more put together than people thought. Its most prominent leader, Rahul Gandhi, was widely dismissed as a dilettante nepo baby: a pale imitation of his father Rajiv and grandmother Indira, both former Congress prime ministers. Now his critics are rethinking things.

“I owe Rahul Gandhi an apology because I seriously underestimated him,” says Manjari Miller, a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations.

Miller singled out Gandhi’s yatras (marches) across India as a particularly canny tactic. These physically grueling voyages across the length and breadth of India showed that he wasn’t just a privileged son of Indian political royalty, but a politician willing to take risks and meet ordinary Indians where they were. During the yatras, he would meet directly with voters from marginalized groups and rail against Modi’s politics of hate.

“The persona he’s developed — as somebody kind, caring, inclusive, [and] resolute in the face of bullying — has really worked and captured the imagination of younger India,” says Suryanarayan. “If you’ve spent any time on Instagram Reels, [you’ll see] an entire generation now waking up to Rahul Gandhi’s very appealing videos.”

This, too, has a lesson for the rest of the world: Tactical innovation from the opposition matters even in an unfair electoral context.

There is no doubt that, in the past 10 years, the BJP stacked the political deck against its opponents. They consolidated control over large chunks of the national media, changed campaign finance law to favor themselves, suborned the famously independent Indian Electoral Commission, and even intimidated the Supreme Court into letting them get away with it. 

The opposition, though, managed to find ways to compete even under unfair circumstances. Strategic coordination between them helped consolidate resources and ameliorate the BJP cash advantage. Direct voter outreach like the yatra helped circumvent BJP dominance in the national media.

To be clear, the opposition still did not win a majority. Modi will have a third term in office, likely thanks in large part to the ways he rigged the system in his favor.

Yet there is no doubt that the opposition deserves to celebrate. Modi’s power has been constrained and the myth of his invincibility wounded, perhaps mortally. Indian voters, like those in Brazil and Poland before them, have dealt a major blow to their homegrown authoritarian faction.

And that is something worth celebrating.

-via Vox, June 7, 2024.

[galamalion]

𐕣. 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋, 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

summary. time inevitably approaches all, but an otherworldly suitor has other plans for you.

⤷ contents. yandere!vampire!chrollo lucilfer x fem!reader, yandere themes, imprisonment, unhealthy relationships, blood // wc. 2.0k

⤷ notes. a very happy birthday to @ddarker-dreams! i wanted to write something cute and evil as a thanks for all the chrollo treats she's given out! hope you enjoy! <3

Dusk began to creep in across the horizon, dimly counting down the few hours before night would fall, allowing the silver moon to take its place among the stars. Golden rays began to dim, passing through the extravagant window in the room you’d been staying in, casting a faint glow across furniture and floor alike. 

Perhaps ‘staying’ wasn’t the correct word to use, though. It made you sound like a visitor, which you certainly were not. The metal lock on the door, the same shade as the setting sun, sealed you into a plush and comfortable tomb, only allowed to wander beneath illuminating moonlight. 

It was the only time he was allowed out too, after all.

You remembered the first time you met that man—Chrollo, as he called himself, though perhaps he had gone by a different name in years past. He called you glorious, a singular rose in a field of boring dandelions, waiting to be plucked and worshiped by a kindred soul. As the daughter of a farmer, his honeyed words made you feel warm inside. Night after night you would meet with him in the woods beside your village, listening to him speak about poetry, books, and the world outside your own quiet one. He made you feel alive—like setting a helpless dove free from a poorly made cage of twigs.

If only he told you the dove was just flying into a golden prison. Maybe you would have run then, told your mother and father about the wicked and beautiful stranger in the woods. But his stories and words wove you into a web too tight to escape, and too alluring to even want to.

You sighed, both out of boredom and out of anguish. Your sleeping habits had changed since you’d been brought to this ancient castle. Now you would wake up just before sunset, giving you time to prepare yourself for Chrollo’s bothersome speeches. Back when you were younger you would have found them poetic—dashing, even. But now, all you wanted was for him to leave you alone. Return you back to your family, your friends, and your village.

The first time you’d ever begged him for that he just smiled, wiping tears off your lashes and running his hand gently through your hair.

“They’re gone,” he had cooed, coaxing your back. “There is nothing for you to return to, my dear.”

His words only brought more tears, and broken sobs along with it. A cacophony of anguished screams and hopeless crying continued night after night, and Chrollo had left you alone for them. He returned on the third night, comforting you through your discordant howling and tears, not saying a single word. Only gently stroking your hair and humming a lullaby ever so softly, bringing your wailing to a whimper as you dozed off to sleep, tears still running down your face.

You should have hated him after those words, hated him until the sun and the moon and every last star in the sky burnt out. Until your bones turned to dust and that dust turned to nothing, as all good things should. But instead, you let him comfort you, as he had done before. You let him hold you and sing to you and your hatred dissipated almost as quickly as it came. Now, the only person you can hate is yourself.

The resounding chime of a bell echoed throughout the castle, finding its way under the door and into your ears, and one look outside confirmed what the bell had just screamed to you. The moon, illustrious and horrid—a grim reminder of your fate, stood proudly amongst its brothers and sisters in the inky sky.

Oh, how you preferred the sun.

A loud knock on the door—one you’d grown to expect—caused you to stretch out of bed and to the middle of the room, throwing the closet open.

Dresses in onyx and sangria were all you had, each only slightly different in design. Some had lace trims, intricately made and without flaws. Others had slits so high you were certain your mother would have chased you out of the village herself. All chosen by Chrollo, of course. You didn’t even know what sangria was before you’d met him, a drink too rich for you to ever experience on your own.

“I’m not decent,” you called out, scanning your limited options. A faint chuckle was barely discernible through the thick wooden door, a sign that Chrollo would wait, though not for long.

You shuffled out of the loose nightgown and tossed it into a basket. With Chrollo breathing down the door you had almost no time to carefully choose your dress of the day—not that it particularly mattered to you. But it was better than letting Chrollo have control over another aspect of your life.

A simple black gown, without lace or an indecent alteration, was your choice. The neckline was plunging—far more than anything you wore—but you had learned to push your own feelings down.

“Modesty only matters when around others,” Chrollo had told you. “But here, it is just you and I. There is nothing to fear, my treasure. I am no beast.”

The fangs that creeped out from his smile warned you otherwise.

With a resigned sigh, you walked over to the door, gently rapping your fist against the thick wood. The door slid open with a loud creak—just like every other antique in the ancient palace. Your gaoler smiled upon seeing you, taking the time to look at your body.

“You resemble an ancient tome of poetry, appreciated only by its author,” Chrollo said, stepping into the room.

“Are you calling me old?”

“I apologize if you took it that way,” he chuckled, brushing a stray hair out of your face. “I merely mean to say that you are a sumptuous artifact, deserving of being remembered by history for all time.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and ignoring the shiver that never failed to arise when Chrollo was with you.  “I prefer a simpler life, thank you.”

“I believe this one suits you far better. If you gave it a chance, I’m sure you’d come to realize the same.”

“I liked my old one.”

“Come now, my dear,” he sighed, moving a cold hand across your shoulder blades. “You always insist on speaking of the past. Why not look towards the future? It has so much to offer you.”

“Have you grown bored of comforting me?” you spat, pulling away from his touch. “Where are your soothing words, your golden gifts? Have you found a new game to play?”

Chrollo frowned, not bothering to reach for you again. Instead his arms rested at his sides, peacefully. Lifelessly.

“I have grown tired,” he emphasized, “of your refusal to move on. I have given you so much, only for it all to be rejected. I thought time would sway your choice, but it appears that I have failed to consider your…stubbornness.”

His expression had changed in the blink of an eye, now sporting his usual disconcerting smile.

“Walk with me,” he commanded, already stepping out of the room.

Your feet moved against your will, gliding across the floor and after Chrollo. It was something you hated, even more than his smug attitude and unneeded grandiose vocabulary. You could always reject him with your words, but in the end he had the power to cut your actions short. An obnoxious monster, as always.

“I have been thinking,” Chrollo began, trailing the dark halls, “about us. And my offer. I believe that I have been…entertaining your behaviors for too long. Time is a fickle thing for beings like you, and I fear you may not have much left.”

“I’m not dying,” you snorted. “Or are you just worried that I might start wrinkling early?”

Chrollo laughed at your words, “I am not afraid of fine wine, my dear. Just that your behavior will soon spiral out of control. If something were to happen, I would hate to have to chase you down. That is all.”

Your walk ended in the garden, bushes towers high above you and Chrollo. It was a place that, despite its beauty, you weren’t too fond of. It was a maze of Chrollo’s making—intentional, knowing him. If something were to enter through the garden, they would never make it to the castle before Chrollo got to them. And more importantly, you would never make it out.

A clearing stood before you, a wooden pavilion with a dozen chairs surrounding a table. Where fancy ladies would meet for fancy tea and gossip about the fancy going-ons in the palace. Like in storybooks you would read as a child.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Chrollo said, approaching the table. Upon it laid a goblet, and, despite the distance separating you, you could make out the sharp gleam of a knife.

“Choices must be made my dear, and I’m afraid that this is one I must make myself. I cannot bear the thought of being without you, and I seek to make our union permanent.”

Chrollo raised a hand in your direction, willing you to stand right before him.

“I could sink my teeth into your throat,” he chuckled. “We would become closer, that way. But you are wearing a 12th century royal Gorteauan gown, and I’d simply hate to ruin it.”

Your blood ran cold as he grabbed the knife, bringing it between you. It was almost as sharp as his fangs, but just as dangerous.

You knew what it was for, undoubtedly. Chrollo had talked about it plenty—about turning you into what he was. About stripping your mortality and bringing you a step closer to eternity. To paradise, to Eden, he claimed. You always pushed against his wishes, though. Insisting you had more life to live, that you were too scared, anything to halt the inevitable. But Chrollo was inevitable, and at the end of the day, his wishes all came true. Never yours.

The knife made purchase with the palm of Chrollo’s hand, causing droplets of crimson blood to spill out from the wound. He brought his hand up to your face, close enough for you to smell the iron from the cut.

“You only need to ingest a little bit. More than a lick, of course. But I’m quite potent,” he smirked.

If you weren’t so terrified, you maybe would have chuckled. Maybe you would have ran.

Chrollo’s smile slowly fell as you continued to do nothing, “Go on. I would hate to force you to do this as well.”

You took a shuddering breath and looked at the pool of blood, “Will…will it hurt?”

“Not a bit,” Chrollo assured you, his smile returning. “It will be painless. You’ll fall asleep afterwards, and your old life will feel like a dream. A rebirth, if you will.”

He continued, “Just think of what you will be now. No longer and Eve, now a Lilith. You will have power, permanence among the living, and me."

“...And it won’t hurt?”

“Not a bit,” he smiled.

You slowly lifted his hand, still freezing cold, closer to your mouth. You let the blood touch your quivering lips, staining them crimson. Perhaps you looked alluring, shaking like a deer with your reddened lips. Especially to a beast like Chrollo. A beast you would soon become. 

With one final anguished cry, you drank of his blood. It was as cold as his body, perhaps even colder. It did nothing to freeze your nerves, nor stop the tears that rolled down your cheeks. Those, too, began to feel colder and colder.

Chrollo held you close, running his free hand along your shoulder, whispering sweet comforts in your ear. Already the world seemed to be getting darker as each touch felt more dull.

“Now, now, my dearest angel. Imagine what new heights we can reach,” he chuckled, wiping stray blood from your face.

“We have all of eternity to see them. Together.”

[deepestnightcolor]

☾ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴄʜᴀ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴅᴏ – ᴡʜᴀᴛᴄʜᴀ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ? ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: Today's smut is sponsored by this dialogue I had with Sebastian at the luau and Mayor Lewis's purple underwear. Curious? You shall read on, then! I hope you enjoy, and thank you for your time! ✧

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 3669 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: exhibitionism, unprotected sex, creampie, name calling, dirty talk, spanking, mentioning of body painting, Sam's being a rebellious twat and vandalizes stuff.

Living in Pelican Town for over a year now has taught you a lot, but three things had proven to be quite interesting. For one, the whole community had seemingly been held together by nothing more but metaphorical spit and duct tape before you had arrived and had desperately needed your help without letting you know what you had actually signed up for. Secondly, the people in this town were incredibly easy to bribe with gifts, especially when you added a sweet smile on top. And third, this town was basically dead during the night.  After 8 PM, most doors were locked tight, and the streets were empty. This information wasn’t necessary for your work as a farmer, and it certainly didn’t help you with it, but to you, it was an important piece of knowledge. You adored strolling through the streets late at night like a stray cat because it was the only time of the day when you didn’t have to expect someone calling your name or even stepping in your way to have a chat. The night belonged to you, and only you. Or so you thought.

You were wandering through the darkness of the night, enjoying the occasional hoot coming from above you when an owl flew past and the flapping of bat wings cutting through the air. The sounds of the night soothed you; the darkness gave you a sense of security – it was like a cloth wrapping around you, shielding you from the world unless you scared it off with a source of light. It made you feel invisible and seen all the same, valuable, and yet so breakable. Raw emotions you could really allow to settle during the dark hour, emotions that drowned in the buzz of the day.

When your steps passed Lewis’s house a hissing sound met your ear. Stopping in your tracks, your eyes snapped over in the direction you had thought the sound to come from, brows knitted together in a frown. A snake? You had never seen a snake in Pelican Town, or any place in the valley, really. Yet there it was again, a cold hissing sound, slicing through the silence of the night. Before you could really make a decision on what to do, your curiosity had already gotten the best of you. You quietly stepped towards Lewis’s property when you heard another hiss. It was longer now, drawn out as if to make a point. Had the animal already taken note of you and was now threatening you? Yet as you took another step closer and peeked over the picket fence, you saw a figure hunched over right in front of the old pick-up. The size certainly didn’t seem fitting for a snake, unless it had decided to mutate and then break into Alex’s room to eat up his stash of protein bars. Still, the shadow was hissing quietly, and it didn’t look like it had noticed you just yet. You pulled out your phone carefully and tapped the flashlight button, shining the cone of light onto what you had thought to be a snake. The ”snake” was wearing all black, and whipped around faster than you could have opened your mouth to ask what the hell they were doing there. You had always been taught to expect the unexpected, but you would have never guessed that you would find Sam hunched over in front of the mayor’s car with a spray can in his right hand and an expression of unsureness on his face. Sam, who babysat his brother on the beach so he could build his sandcastles, Sam who crouched down to talk to kids, Sam who listened to “I’m Just Ken” while working at Joja. Your boyfriend Sam.

“What the fuck are you doing there exactly, Sam?” The blond had been squinting against the light up until now, but when heard your voice, his face visibly relaxed. “Babe, oh fuck, it’s you,” he breathed, letting out a small, airy laugh. You swallowed, quickly making your way over to the blond, flicking your fingers against his forehead. “Yes, it’s me. But it could have been Lewis. Whose property you are on, doing something to his car, may I add,” you whispered back, watching your boyfriend squint against the light again, and nod. “I know, I know, but I ordered these spray cans on sale, and they just came today, and I just saw an opportunity-“ “Opportunity to do what?” Instead of answering, Sam’s blue eyes slowly flickered to the hood of the car. You furrowed your brows at him, even though you were pretty sure that he couldn’t make out your face. “Sam, you shouldn’t be here. Especially not with spray cans,” you scolded, shining your light on where Sam was looking.

You opened your mouth again, about to scold the blond again, but it was hard to form words when you had to resist the urge to break out into laughter. A pair of undies was revealed under the shine of your flashlight, purple in colour and ready to be seen by the whole community. You had seriously thought you had been discreet when you had returned them to the mayor, but it hadn’t been your fault that he dropped them when Sam came into the townhall after you.

“You are an idiot,” you whispered to him, a giggle slipping past your lips. Sam grinned up at you, his head tilting to the side. “Maybe I am, but so far, I am an idiot that hasn’t been caught yet. So could you please…?” You nodded and knelt next to the rebel, turning off the flash that had bothered him. He let out a sigh of relief, and despite the darkness, you could make out the mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

“How does one even come up with shit like this?” you asked, your hands wrapping around his shoulders. Sam grinned at you, shrugging his broad shoulders. “I thought he deserved it. Treatin’ his woman like shit because he’s a coward.  Thought he should have the need to explain himself…” “Standing up for Marnie? Hot,” you chuckled, flicking his forehead again. “But I doubt this stems from nothing but nobility.” Again, his pearly whites flashed through the darkness. “Okay, maybe I thought him pissing his pants when he sees this would be incredibly funny.” “There we go,” you laughed quietly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You had to admit, seeing Sam like this was…interesting, to say the least. You hadn’t expected him to act up in such ways, much less plot an act of rebellion like this – he hadn’t even forgotten to cover his blond hair with a beanie. For some reason, it made you lean in and press a small kiss against his lips. You had planned on pulling away, but before you knew it, you felt yourself being pulled onto your boyfriend’s lap, his tongue licking over yours. Were you into bad boys? Or was it just the unexpected rebellious side of Sam that broke through the seemingly peaceful façade Pelican Town tried to keep up, shaking its rhythm to the core? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but what you were very aware of was the fact that his lips tasted just so good.

You pulled away after a while, taking his paint-smeared hand in your own as you got on your feet. “Let’s go, then, before my idiot and I get caught,” you panted, plans on what you would do with Sam once you had reached the safety of your bedroom already forming. However, Sam sat still. You tugged at his hand once more, hoping he would cave and follow you, a smile tugging on your lips when you saw him rise. However, you definitely didn’t expect to be pulled into Sam’s chest with his lips smashing into yours again. It was one of the sloppiest kisses you had ever experienced with Sam; it was wet and all tongue and teeth, making you moan into it quietly. He took the chance and sucked on your tongue, his hands travelling down to your ass, giving it a squeeze with his roughened hands. He only pulled away when the both of you were in dire need of air, a string of saliva still connecting your lips. Warm breath tickling your air making you shudder; you heard his voice. It was deeper now, huskier and rougher around the edges. “How about we stick it to him some more?” “Wh..What do you mean?” You asked, gasping when his fingers popped open the button of your pants. “Oh, I think you know what I mean,” he hummed, his pierced tongue following the shell of your ears, knowing it would have your skin break out in goosebumps. “You… you want to do it here?” “What, you scared?” He cooed, his lips now kissing down your neck, chuckling in amusement when you tilted your head to the side in a split second to allow more access. “No, but- is that legal? What if we get caught?” “Nothing I did here is legal, but I promise you, we won’t get caught. Lewis sleeps like a rock, and the others are far enough away...Besides…Wouldn’t it be fun to get caught? Let them know who’s fuckin’ you well? Showin’ them how it’s done?” You almost whimpered at his words, his hand had now found its way into your underwear. You needed to stop this. Both of you could get into serious trouble, and you didn’t want that. The two of you needed to get home and sleep this off and hope that Mayor Lewis never found out who the sprayer was.

You pushed your pants down yourself, shoving Sam’s beanie off his head to run your fingers through the blond strands, your lips finding your boyfriend’s despite the darkness. This time it was you greedily sucking on his tongue, allowing his finger to circle your clit with tiny, quick movements. Sam’s other hand found its way to your ass, gripping the flesh and giving it a gentle smack. You tugged on his hair in return, pushing your body flush against his to let him feel your tits against his chest. Given his laboured breathing, you knew it had the desired effect on him as you allowed yourself to kiss down his neck after pulling away from his lips. “Knew you would come around,” he hummed, his hand pulling from your panties. You whined in return, just to be kissed again. “Shhh…We don’t want to get caught just yet, do we?” He murmured, smacking your ass with both hands now, probably leaving some paint there as well. Being too into it to care, you gave him what he wanted, jumping up just to be steadied by his strong arms and hoisted up against his body. You wrapped your legs around his hips, your crotches now pressed together. In this position you could feel the heat radiate from Sam’s already hardened dick, replacing the fears of being caught with thoughts of being filled to the brim by his pierced cock. “Sam, want you to fuck me,” you whispered, rutting your hips against the bulge restrained by his black pants. Sam groaned quietly, squeezing your ass again while he guided the movements of your hips over his crotch. “And I wanna fuck you, princess. Gonna fill ya up right ‘ere, ‘kay? Let everyone know how to treat a woman.” His words were accompanied by his lips smacking kisses on your neck, sucking a hickey onto the heated-up skin when he deemed it fit. “Pretty please.” Sam chuckled, his eyes flickering to Lewis’s house momentarily to make sure everything remained dark, his hand already moving to push down your panties. “How could I say no when you ask me like that?” It wasn’t like he could have said no even if you hadn’t asked him like that; his penis was painfully hard by now, red and hot to the touch. His tip glistening with pre-cum; the prospect of getting to fuck his absolutely beautiful girlfriend out in the open after just basically committing a petty crime had his cock drooling for you.

He carefully placed you on the hood of the car, smiling to himself when he felt your body shiver as soon as your bare ass met with the cold surface of it. Still, as he allowed his finger to run through your folds, he could feel what a hot mess you were already; wetness coated his finger, and your legs twitched against his hips when he brushed over your clit. As much as he wanted to tease you, he knew he had to be quicker than usual. Lewis did sleep like a rock, but he would be damned if he was stopped before he could have sunken his dick into you. “You ready for me, baby?” His voice was heavy with lust, the pad of his thumb still messing with your clit that was pulsing for his touch. “Mhhhmmm!” you whispered, eyes darting from the mayor’s house back to your lover, your legs quivering already. The cold night air hitting your wet cunt made you want Sam’s cock all the more, and you knew you were basically drooling down there. The excitement you felt wrapped you into a heavy cloud, just like the darkness of the night usually did. You were able to hear the fabric of his pants as he pulled them down, soon followed by a small smacking sound. Your mouth watered as you laid eyes on the outline of Sam’s erection, your pussy clenching around nothing in eager anticipation. You reached your hand out to let the pads of your fingers ghost along his shaft, smiling to yourself when you heard his breath hitch. Sam was an incredibly sensitive man; you had managed to make him cum by teasing his cock alone more than once. You felt yourself clench yet again when you felt the cold metal of his piercing near the tip of his dick, your lower lip catching between your teeth. You wanted him, and you wanted him now. Him massaging your clit had made your heart thump into your chest and your head feel more light, but it had also made you care about nothing but him fucking you. You used your legs that were still hooked around his hips to pull him closer, your fingers wrapping around his pulsing shaft. Leading him to your core, you guided his dick through your folds, mixing precum with your own arousal. Sam was groaning under his breath, and you could feel a shift in your surroundings as he placed his hands right next to you on the hood of the car. “You are so wet for me already, baby,” he whispered. “Just for you,” you moaned, feeling his lips run down your neck again before he sat up, lining himself up with your entrance.

You could feel his fingers intertwining with yours and you gave him a squeeze. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and pushed his hips forward in one swift movement, filling you to the hilt with ease. It knocked the air out of your lungs, and for a moment, you could have sworn the world was spinning fast enough for you to actually see it, but the stretch felt just so good. Your walls clung to Sam as if your life depended on it, and the urge to scream out his name just to show everyone who filled you up so well was dancing on your tongue. Sam himself struggled to keep up his composure, his head spinning with the way you clung to him. You were so wet and warm; a great contrast to the cold night. And – it was you. You always managed to take his breath away.

Breathing heavily, Sam held the position he was in, massaging your breasts through your shirt. You could feel every inch of him inside of you, and Yoba, you loved it. You grasped at strands of his hair, tugging on it as your hips snapped against him, making him suck in air through his teeth. “Fuck, ya’re so sexy, ya know that? And all mine,” he slurred, leaning down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips. This one was more hasty, though, as he quickly pulled away to push one of your legs against you, almost completely pulling out just to snap his hips forward again, filling you to the brim again. The blond started with a slow pace, trying to show you that he had full control over the situation, but you made it so hard. Your walls were contracting around his cock as if to massage the pierced shaft, drooling all over the already wet skin. With each thrust he gave you he forced a whimper out of your mouth which you desperately tried to keep shut but failed miserably. And the way you looked in the moonlight that had now been revealed by the clouds… it really wasn’t his fault that his thrusts almost automatically picked up the pace, abusing your little cunt like as it deserved. Your back arched off the car, but your ass rubbed against the now warmed-up steel beneath your skin as it began to redden. One of Sam’s hands kept your leg pushed towards your shoulder, while the other worked your clit mercilessly.  He was fucking you hard; his cock pounding into you just to prove that he could, balls smacking against your wet lips to underline the obviousness of what you were doing out here. “Sam!” you hissed, your fingers curling in his hair. He was giving you every centimetre of him, and he was giving to you at a mind -breaking pace. If someone had asked you your name, you would have probably given Sam’s, as that was all that left your mouth at this point.

“That’s m’good fuckin’ girl. Takin’ my cock so well, like ya were made for it, hm? Like being stuffed with my cock out here? Yes?” he grunted, giving your clit a light smack as you didn’t respond. You gasped loudly at that, your toes curling in the sneakers that neither of you had bothered to take off. “Mhmmm!” You moaned, but were cut off by a tongue shoved down your throat. You had to close your eyes for a moment; the sensation of Sam mercilessly fucking you in the cold air of the night and him kissing you so roughly made everything feel like you were far away, chasing the high announcing itself with the tightening knot in your stomach. It wasn’t like Sam wasn’t a mess, though. His usually carefully styled hair was completely dishevelled, his cheeks were flush with arousal, and his breathing was just barely covering the grunts and groans of your name. His legs shook as he pounded his drooling dick into your wet cunt, and admittedly, he himself was drooling for you. “’m gonna cum, baby. Ya gonna cum for me? Cum all over me? Show ‘em who ya belong to?” The words all were whispered in your mouth, and you ate them right up with a dazed nod. You could feel the metal of Sam’s piercing rut against your walls as his tip was bullying your cervix, causing your vision to blur with tears. His thumb found your clit again, and this time he rubbed much slower circles onto it with added pressure. Your body felt like it was set under electrical shocks; each time a wave of pleasure subsided, the next one followed. “Lookin’ so pretty in the moonlight, baby,” he whispered, his heart pounding in your chest. He could have sworn whenever he praised you even the slightest, your cunt just sucked him in further, and it drove him insane. Absolutely insane.

“Sam! Sam, gonna cum, oh fuck, cummin’!” you cried out, and this time, your boyfriend didn’t care to quieten you. He was busy staring down at you as you threw your head back, your back arching in again while you held onto his shoulders tightly. Your cunt spasmed around him as you moaned his name, your hips both rutting against him and trying to get away from him as he still bullied into you.

The begging whisper of his name as you rode your orgasm was enough for Sam; his balls tightened as ropes of cum filled you up, his hips shaking as he forced himself to keep moving, feeling the burning need to fill you up to the brim and fuck his own cum into you deep enough you would feel it the next day. His penis twitched inside of you as he fucked himself empty, not slowing down until he had fucked all his cum inside of you, having you shiver beneath him.

The two of you were panting, Sam’s hand finding yours again and allowing them to lock together, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly pulled out from you, ignoring the wetness of his crotch. The two of you smiled at each other silently, when suddenly you saw a light switch on inside the house. You looked at each other again as Sam quickly sprung to action just barely pulling up his pants before he helped you pull up your own. You picked up the cans and the beanies before you were thrown over Sam’s shoulder, the blond running towards his house in a panicked frenzy.

You couldn’t help but giggle like two teenagers as you hid in some bushes, holding one another’s mouth shut. What you didn’t expect was that instead of a full painting of some purple undies on Mayor Lewis’s car, there was half a painting of his underwear, accompanied by the print of an ass from where you had been sitting. The other half of the painting Sam would find later when the two of you had a shower on your farm.

[astonmartinii]

loving on a sunday | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x reader

y/n and lando, the grid and an honest attempt at a sunday roast

masterlist if you want to leave a tip x

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 601,239 others

yourusername: warning !! do not own a nice country house and farm because you will get lumped with the annual post season grid dinner, SEB PLEASE COME BACK I CAN"T TAKE THIS RESPONSIBILITY @landonorris what are you going to do when they find out you can't cook?

view all comments

user1: learning that lando can't cook is the least surprising thing in the entire world

user2: i'm sorry post season grid dinner? brb just going to cry my eyes out why haven't we heard of this before

user3: for my mental health i need photographic evidence asap

landonorris: way to bait me out in front of the whole world, thanks babe

yourusername: i'm sorry but if this crashes and burns i need people to know that it was your fault (because it defo would be)

landonorris: where is the faith? you back me to win every race but won't back me to make some roast potatoes :(

yourusername: babe when i was sick you burnt the soup so bad we had to throw the pan out

landonorris: I TRIED I WAS STRESSED YOU WERE SICK

yourusername: awwww babe, but it was le crueset and literally cost more than my life

sebastianvettel: it's been an honour to host it but i know you and lando will do great, send me all the photos !

yourusername: thank you seb, please come visit the farm at some point xx

landonorris: see i knew seb would have faith in me thanks mate

user4: lando's gf being a farm girl makes so much sense but also no sense what so ever

yourusername: tis the south west babe it's either banksy or farmers and nothing in between

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername and 1,023,677 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: should be peeling potatoes right now she's too pretty

view all comments

user10: oh to be a kitty cat being cuddled by y/n

yourusername: you're such a smooth talker babe but those potatoes won't peel themselves

landonorris: my years of being teammates with carlos has come in clutch

yourusername: you still suck at flirting i just love you so i still swoon, any other person would probably laugh in your face

landonorris: gonna ignore the insult and focus on the fact that you love me

user11: i swear every time i see y/n she's with another animal i've never seen before

yourusername: my farm is a safe haven for any animal, if they find themselves there they'll leave with a full tummy and a good load of cuddles

maxverstappen1: if lando is on potato duty does this mean we won't get them? they're my favourite part of a roast y/n PLEASE STEP IN

landonorris: oh wow i see how it is

maxverstappen1: i'm dutch i'm so serious about my potatoes

landonorris: i also don't fuck around about roast potatoes HAVE FAITH

user12: can we start a petition for lando to stream this? like at least the cooking portion

yourusername: watching my nervous breakdown live would not be ethical

landonorris: it's true she threw a carrot at my head the first time she cooked for my family

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and 590,455 others

tagged: yourusername, landonorris

oscarpiastri: officially a farm boy for the week (also known as third wheeling for seven days)

view all comments

user15: omg oscar went early? my mclaren heart is so full

yourusername: so so happy to have you here osc!! though you're not any more trustworthy in the kitchen

oscarpiastri: i'd defend myself but we've all seen me fail to boil an egg

yourusername: you tried your best !! but you've mastered the english tea which is a massive asset

oscarpiastri: i think i'd lose my seat if i couldn't make a cup of tea

user16: obsessed with y/n dragging everyone for being menaces in the kitchen

user17: love how oscar was like: post lando? no. post ducks? yes.

landonorris: mate you asked to come early don't complain about third wheeling now

oscarpiastri: i know i asked to come early but if y'all could lay off the soft porn for two seconds would be appreciated

landonorris: don't pretend you don't enjoy it mate ;)

yourusername: lando don't be mean :(

landonorris: i'm sorry oscar, i'm sure you don't enjoy watching us be happy

oscarpiastri: thanks i guess?

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,034,560 others

charles_leclerc: sad to announce i've been banned from the kitchen:( even banned from making drinks as well

view all comments

user18: this is defo the banning i agree with, we all saw the vlog with the pesto pasta

user19: tbf i've come to the conclusion the one person y/n would let into the kitchen is seb

yourusername: you're not wrong

user20: i need a chick in my dungarees right now

yourusername: why are you complaining about a free pass to sit on the couch and have someone else cook for you?

charles_leclerc: well when you put it like that ....

landonorris: let me revoke all of my previous complaints

yourusername: you know i like to treat you baby

charles_leclerc: why thank you y/n but that's an inappropriate thing to say while in a relationship

yourusername: it was in reply to lando's comment charles 😭

landonorris: guy forgot he could read for a second

charles_leclerc: MY BAD

user21: i know charles didn't come to a farm in all white

yourusername: i regret to inform you he did (it's all designer as well)

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 702,340 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: sunday roasts are my love language, so happy to host the grid dinner with the love of my life

view all comments

user23: at first i thought she was being a bit too serious about this but that roast looks like it BANGS

user24: legit i need one asap

georgerussell63: carmen wants the recipe please and thank you

yourusername: bring her to the farm next time we're free and i'll teach her in person

carmenmundt: thank you darling

yourusername: anything for you

landonorris: ummm what about the guy you called the love of your life in the caption?

yourusername: i love you but i've tried to teach you to cook way too many times

user25: i'm sorry lando is so sexy

user26: forget lando, every pic i've seen of this house is the sexiest thing in the world

carlossainz55: thank you for hosting y/n and lando!! i had a great time see you on new years

yourusername: no worries chilli

maxverstappen1: the roast was the best thing i've ever eaten, i'll only dock points because i had to top and tail with daniel

yourusername: i didn't see you complain when i walked in on you guys cuddling

danielricciardo: you told me you loved it :(

maxverstappen1: i did !!! i enjoyed all of it, especially the roast though

landonorris: second to a roast @danielricciardo that's tough

landonorris

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,208,943 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: so honoured to host the grid dinner and take over from such an inspiration in seb!! but mostly thanks to y/n for hosting at her farm and putting together an amazing dinner and weekend - also thanks for not killing the grid, i defo would have

view all comments

user27: i would've given a kidney to be there for real

lewishamilton: thank you for having us and for the sick nut roast

yourusername: we love you and roscoe !! and vegans are always welcome on my farm

user28: ROSCOE WENT?

yukitsunoda0511: thank you y/n i no longer think that english food is an abomination

yourusername: wow thank you yuki, i knew it would be hard when your only exposure was ... milton keynes

landonorris: wow my girlfriend is a miracle worker, and you're welcome yuki san we loved having you

user29: watching lando go from rookie to hosting the grid dinner, i'm soft

oscarpiastri: i love it here i'm sorry you're not getting rid of me

yourusername: no worries osc, you can stay as long as you want

landonorris: no complaining about third wheeling though, you're basically our child now

user30: experienced racer and rookie teammate friendships are so special to ME

danielricciardo: glad i managed to get my seat back just for this roast tbf

landonorris: not cause you missed me?

danielricciardo: eh i guess so

yourusername: just let me know when you're in england and you can come over for another

[probablyasocialecologist]

The potential of newly created forests to draw down carbon is often overstated. They can be harmful to biodiversity. Above all, they are really damaging when used, as they often are, as avoidance offsets— “as an excuse to avoid cutting emissions,” Crowther said. The popularity of planting new trees is a problem—at least partly—of Crowther’s own making. In 2019, his lab at ETH Zurich found that the Earth had room for an additional 1.2 trillion trees, which, the lab’s research suggested, could suck down as much as two-thirds of the carbon that humans have historically emitted into the atmosphere. “This highlights global tree restoration as our most effective climate change solution to date,” the study said. Crowther subsequently gave dozens of interviews to that effect. This seemingly easy climate solution sparked a tree-planting craze by companies and leaders eager to burnish their green credentials without actually cutting their emissions, from Shell to Donald Trump. It also provoked a squall of criticism from scientists, who argued that the Crowther study had vastly overestimated the land suitable for forest restoration and the amount of carbon it could draw down. (The study authors later corrected the paper to say tree restoration was only “one of the most effective” solutions, and could suck down at most one-third of the atmospheric carbon, with large uncertainties.) Crowther, who says his message was misinterpreted, put out a more nuanced paper last month, which shows that preserving existing forests can have a greater climate impact than planting trees. He then brought the results to COP28 to “kill greenwashing” of the kind that his previous study seemed to encourage—that is, using unreliable evidence on the benefits of planting trees as an excuse to keep on emitting carbon. “Killing greenwashing doesn’t mean stop investing in nature,” he says. “It means doing it right. It means distributing wealth to the Indigenous populations and farmers and communities who are living with biodiversity.”

[...]

Crowther’s November study—with more than 200 scientists listed as coauthors—instead stresses the power of preserving intact woodlands. While restoring destroyed or fragmented forests would absorb a potential 87 gigatonnes of carbon, simply allowing existing forests to grow to maturity would absorb an additional 139 gigatonnes. These estimates exclude urban, farming, and grazing areas that may once have held forests but are unlikely to be given over to nature.

[leighsartworks216]

... Oops

Harvey x gn!Farmer

Had this thought when I remembered I had to take my meds tonight. I just think it would be nice to have someone who takes care of you when you're a bit stupid and forget to take very important meds 👉👈

Also, Baja Blast is the actual name of my blue chicken lmao

Also also, this is written in third person POV instead of my usual second person POV

Warnings: swearing, dizziness, anxiety, possibly OOC Harvey

Word Count: 1,592

Masterlist

AO3

Harvey rubbed at his eyes as he slipped out of bed, glancing absentmindedly at the empty space beside him. The farmer was already up, of course. He worried for them when he realized how early they woke up each day, but it couldn't be helped if they wanted to take care of their farm all in one day.

He adjusted his glasses on his face as he shuffled to the kitchen. A cup of hot coffee sat on the counter waiting for him, as it always was. He smiled to himself. Fresh coffee from beans they grew themselves always tasted better than anything Gus could ever dream of making. It was perfectly bitter and smooth as he gulped it down.

He looked out the window of the cabin that overlooked the field left to the farmer by their grandfather. There weren't any unwanted stumps, logs or boulders anymore. Fences penned in the animals as they meandered about, munching on fresh grass. The crops were already watered. The scarecrows teetered slightly in the breeze, the fabric of their gloves almost appearing to wave back at him. He always enjoyed the one that resembled an animated movie character - the farmer had been so proud of it when they stuck it into the ground.

His eyes scanned the paths and fences, searching for his partner.

Hm, they must be in one of the barns.

He stared out a while longer, hoping to catch a glimpse as they came out. A concerned frown etched its way onto his face, but he tried writing off the anxiety swarming in his gut. They're probably just refilling the feeders or refilling their kegs or... Really, it's nothing to get worried about. They knew what they were doing! As long as they stayed out of those damn mines, he had nothing to worry about.

He sighed, shaking his head to remove the flood of worried thoughts in his head. Downing the last of the coffee and placing the mug in the sink, he went off to the bathroom to get ready for a day in the clinic.

He peeked out the window again after he got out of the shower. A blue chicken - a gift from Shane the farmer had named Baja Blast - clucked cheerily as it walked out of the open gate. The farmer usually kept the gates closed, always worrying about coyotes or foxes coming to eat their precious hens. It was unusual for them to keep it open, even if they were inside the coop.

He bustled about in a slight rush to get dressed and gather his things for work, namely a giant thermos of coffee and a lunch prepared for him waiting in the fridge, before slipping out of the cabin. He set it all down on a rocking chair sitting on the porch, creaking in the wind.

Baja Blast clucked up at him as he scooped her into his arms. “C’mon, you shouldn’t be out here. All your food is in here,” he says to the chicken as he steps through the gate and closes it behind him. With a cursory glance back, it didn’t seem like any other chickens got out. He couldn’t remember how many his partner had anymore. He had no idea how in the world they kept up with chickens, ducks, goats, sheep, cows, and pigs on one farm alone. It made his head spin trying to guess how they kept their head on straight with so much to do.

He set Baja Blast down with a white chicken, Madame Clucks. She went back right to pecking away at the grass.

Harvey set his hands on his hips as he looked around. Even out here, he couldn’t see the farmer. Okay, how he was worried. His hands fidgeted anxiously as he stumbled in his loafers through the soft dirt to the coop door. If they weren’t in here, he’d have to check the other barns. And if they weren’t in the barns, he’d have to call Marnie or Shane, or, Yoba forbid, Marlon at the Adventurer’s Guild, just in case they really had slipped off to the mines without telling him. But what if they weren’t in the mines? He’d have to call- Yoba, who could he call? Everyone? Ask if they’ve seen the farmer around today? It wasn’t even 8am, nobody would be up and about to know if they’d gone through town.

He pushed open the door, a bit harder than he meant to as some chickens lingering inside bawk’d and spooked away, leaving feathers in their wake. He couldn’t even focus on that. His eyes immediately landed on the figure sitting on the chest by the mayonnaise machine. They were hunched over and holding their head.

“Farmer!” Harvey rushed forward, all the old anxiety quickly replaced with a thousand more fears. He knelt down by them and rested a hand on their shoulder, looking at them with wide eyes. From this angle he could see their eyes were closed, face pinched in discomfort. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

They shook their head. “‘M just lightheaded. I bent down to grab the eggs and I got really dizzy.”

He pressed the back of his hand to their forehead, brushing back some hair as he pulled away. “You’re not running a fever.” He let out a hesitant breath of relief. “Do you think you can stand?”

After a moment, they nodded. Harvey stood up and supported them as they stood. They wobbled on their feet, but he wrapped an arm around their waist to steady them.

“Easy now. Let’s get you back inside.”

“What about-”

“Don’t you dare put your farm over your own wellbeing,” he warned. “I can call Shane and see if he’ll take over for the day.”

The farmer sighed, relenting. He knew how much peace they found tending to everything themselves, despite how overwhelming it seemed on the outside. They had a whole process for everything, and they’d explained before just how much of the simpler tasks they’d automated with sprinklers and some of Maru’s machines. Still, he was absolutely not about to let them go right back to work when they can barely stand up without a light breeze threatening to knock them over.

Harvey opened the gate and helped them through, shooing Baja Blast back inside as he shut the gate again. His partner gave an undignified snort at the offended squawk she let out. “At least you feel well enough to laugh.”

“Like I said, Harv, I’m just dizzy.” They leaned heavily into him as he led them along the paths to the cabin. Their feet hung up on uneven stones and the stairs leading to the door more than once.

“Dizziness is a symptom of something else. I just want to make sure it really is nothing serious.”

“I know you do.” They offered him a slight smile, but it quickly soured to a frown as they shut their eyes again with a frown. “Yoba, it feels like the whole world is spinning.”

“We’re almost there.” The line would have been less out of place if this wasn’t their home that they knew as well as they knew the names of all their animals, but they were too out of it to point it out and Harvey was too in his own head to notice it. So they stumbled together through the house to the large two-person bed.

The farmer laid down with a whine, pressing the balls of their hands to their eyes. “How is this worse somehow?” they groaned.

Harvey pressed a comforting hand to their shoulder. “Did you eat breakfast this morning?” They hummed affirmatively with a nod. “When did you get back home last night?”

“Like… 1? 1:40?”

He sighed, scratching his brow with his thumb. That was a conversation for later. “Did you take your meds?”

The silence was deafening. They covered their whole face with their hands with a muffled, “Fuck, I’m stupid.”

“So you didn’t take your iron?”

They shook their head but regretted it immediately after, uncovering their face with a grimace. Their hands plopped pathetically to the bed beside them. “No, I completely forgot. I was trying to run back from the beach after fishing all night - I must have been so tired it just slipped my mind.”

He let out a long sigh. “At least it’s nothing serious. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“‘M sorry, Harvey.”

“It’s…” He frowned at the idea of saying ‘okay’. As a doctor, he really couldn’t brush off not taking prescribed medication, especially with a partner with such a severe case of anemia. He’d protest against them running a farm at all if they weren’t so determined. “We’ll figure out a better system, okay? We can put them in a pill-minder and keep them on your nightstand.”

They nodded. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

That shocked a laugh out of him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to their forehead, his mustache scratching their skin in a familiar way. “Of course - that is my job after all. Now sit tight, I’ll grab your supplements and call Shane. Anything he needs to know about?”

“Just make sure he pets all of the animals. They deserve daily pats.”

“I’ll make sure he knows,” he chuckled fondly as his footsteps began their retreat from the bedroom to the house beyond.

“I love you!”

His warm laugh rang out again, echoed against the wood Robin nailed together and the photos on the walls. “I love you, too!”

[absolutebl]

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 2

Lost on the River

Thai

JudoFluke are back! From Sammon, Fluke is the doctor and Judo a record producer. And not only that - there's a third person on the cover.

Love Carved in the Moonlight aka Salak Rak Nai Saengjan

Thai One31 trailer

Peak is back in BL? Wow.

Love of Silom

Thai WeTV

UpPoom are back in another complex piece. Closeted brokenhearted policeman meets struggling single dad.

Love Upon a Time

Thai trailer

Domundi's long awaited historical was announced for 2023, but after recasting, officially moved to 2025.

Love You Teacher

Thai trailer

I do like Perth & Santa (although I'm not sold on them as a pair). But words cannot describe how much I dislike this premise. SERIOUSLY? No thank you very much. I could, just maybe, hate watch Only Friends 2, but it's gonna be hard for me to even turn this on. Infantilization and people acting like children wigs me tf out. YKINMKBYKIOK of course, but not in my BL GMMTV. Stop it! (This one also got the dreaded pink of will not watch.

Loy Kaew First Love

Thai trailer

Historical pulp. About a farmer's son and his clsoe friend, son of the village headman.

Make a Wish Season 2

Thai

JudoFluke reprising their roles, rumor reported here.

Mandate

Thai

A fierce political battle is the starting point of love between two men of different statuses and backgrounds, not to mention a 17 year age gap.

Me and Thee

Thai trailer

A photographer gets involved with the mafia? OMG is this a Thai dupe for Target the Finder? Only mixed with Cyrano? WILD. I mean to say, this one is wild WILD! Plus Est (my love) back in suits and ear dongles I see. Also GMMTV never gonna let us forget they bagged two of BL's best bods with PP, thanks all for the visuals. Of course this is for me. I'm the shallowest, remember? Plus I love a BL that's just a little bit...... well...... stupid.

Me and Who

Thai WeTV trailer

Lead pair from Monster Next Door, BigPark, in an adaptation of Wickedwish’s novel of the same name. A poor young man dies and is reborn into the body of a billionaire heir. The heir happens to be engaged to a handsome man who come to understand his secret.

Melody of Secrets

trailer

Not wild about ForceBook, do like a mystery, don't like horror or psychological thrillers... not sure on this one. I like BL pushing into new territory, even if it's not my territory, but this is defiantly not made for me, that's for damn sure.

Memoir of Rati

Thai trailer

Sing the praise song with me BLabies! GreatInn in a HISTORICAL with a class divide and everyone's favourite side couple! Be still my heart! I'm beyond pleased. (Also I got my boat in a lotus pond at last.) My only concern is this could end sad, it's in the title after all.

My Magic Prophecy

Thai trailer

Paranormal mystery with a fortune teller and a doctor. I'm in. I hope the script doesn't fail JimmySea again, they are such a great pair. I'm intrigued by this one but it felt the most formless of all the trailers, so I'm thinking we could see some significant tweaks.

My Romance Scammer

Thai trailer

New couple! My boys Ohm and Fluke (no, not that Fluke, the one from My Ride). Honestly, Fluke has popped up as a side in a couple GMMTV shows I was wondering who they'd BL him with.

This could win. Prettiest human on earth paired with the world's most potent single dimple. Will I survive? I honestly don't know, because Ohm historically doesn't have much chemistry with anyone but the original Fluke so... Still I l do love JuniorMark and this as a really unique premise (gay Heartbreakers), so I'm game.

My Stubborn

Thai YouTube trailer

Very high heat office romance involving best friend younger brother intern, boss meets assistant, bit of a love triangle, and GL crumbs and few other tropes.

Not My Bro

Thai trailer

Meen's mother sends Tul, the son of her close friend, who has recently passed the entrance exam to pursue engineering, to live with Meen and assigns Meen to take care of Tul.

Only Friends Dream On

Thai trailer

I will not be watching this. But dude was it nice to see all those pairs busted. That's always a good time for me. Anyway, all you so-n-sos who gave the first one your eyeballs are to blame for this. Watch it n weep. Without me. (Side note: I love it when a title reviews itself, Only Friends: Dream On, indeed. It's like media aptronym.)

Personal Manager

Thai

A secret relationship between a model and his manager.

Pit Babe The Series 2

Thai trailer

Rearrange

Thai trailer

Bandmates romance meets time travel, intreaguing combo.

Reset

Thai iQIYI

Yet another time travel kinda thing this time with Pond & Peterpan (we love this idea). On the night of his greatest success, famous actor Armin dies after being betrayed by his lover. However, death is not the end. Going back in time and meeting mysterious fan TD, the path to superstardom begins again.

Revamp the Undead Story

Thai YouTube trailer

BounPrem vampire vehicle from 2023 officially moved to 2025 Formerly My Broccoli

Secret Relationship

Korea

This 2022 offering is now officially moved to 2025. To be adapted by Cradle Studio (a subsidiary of Kakao). About clever and resourceful Daon who has worked hard to overcome being poor. His cheap ways annoy his coworker, Sunghyeon but after “an incident” with his parents, Daon grows closer to him. But Daon also has feelings for his former tutor. This has the signs of a classic Kdrama all over it: Office setting, love triangle, lead suffering for his self-actualization. I’m optimistic about a longer treatment.

Secret Relationship

Taiwan

Rivals to lovers with unhinged behavior that in the source material ranges from rock-paper-scissors contests to competitive handjobs (yeah, you read that right). Taiwan is perfect for this.

Shine

Thai WeTV

MileApo vehicle that may not be BL. A tale of love and ideals unfolds in an era resistant to diversity set against the backdrop of the political turmoil of 1969-1971.

Sweet Daddy

Thai trailer

Sweet Tooth Good Dentist

Thai YouTube trailer

Finally Mark is leading out a BL! This one based on a Jittirain novel about a weird sunshine student dentist and his sugar-addicted patient, described as a romcom meets romantic therapy. Also, Jimmy is there, primarily to give me second lead syndrome. It looks silly but kinda earnest, I'm intrigued. (Not sure this one will still happen.)

That Summer

Thai trailer

The only GMMTV side pair to level up. Okay so amnesia is my least favorite trope, and I tend to not be wild about secret identity either, but I like both pairs in this one, so I'll watch.

The Hell Guard

Thai

Boy wakes up from a coma and becomes a messenger between grim reapers and the underworld. I love this premise.

The Love Matter

Thai trailer

2 students fall in love with their respective teachers who happen to be dating each other

The Next Prince

Thai trailer

ZeeNew in a fantasy/historical set in a palace where Zee plays a knight and Nu a prince - YES PLEASE.

The Promise of The Soul

Taiwan

I hate bodyswap.

The Wicked Game

Thai

DaouOffroad doing some Jack & Joker action. Trust is a luxury. Deception is a game.

The Young Gangster

Taiwan WeTV

Adapted from a novel, may not be a BL. Sociologist begins doing research in the underworld, falls in love with a gangster.

Ticket To Heaven

Thai trailer

GMMTV is doing Boy Foretold by Stars concept? Interesting, did not have religious boundary pushing and bildungsroman down on he Thai BL bingo card. This isn't my thing but I think G4 are actually going to be amazing in it and I certainly look forward to them pushing their acting chops. Not to mention the discomfort something like this can cause in general/global viewership. I like it when BL makes people (who aren't me) uncomfortable.

Time Zone

Thai trailer

A cheeky version of high school president only the seme actor seems to be taking his cues off Ohm. Interesting to me because I like this kind of BL

Truemoon

Thai YouTube trailer

A take on my single favorite trope love rivals to lovers.

Your Dear Daddy

Thai trailer

Haunted by his past, Saithan is unwilling now to tie himself to anyone. On holiday in Chiang Mai, he happens to meet Sila, the wealthy owner of Phu Saengdao farm and hotel. The two find themselves strangely drawn to one another and ultimately spend a night together, thinking they wouldn't see each other again.

2025 BL Part 1 is here

(source)

This post is static and not updated. All information is to the best of my ability at the very end of 2024. Not responsible for changes, cancellations etc...

[wangxianficfinder]

I'm in the mood for...

Aug 21st

~*~

1. hii! ITMF fics where the cultivation world finds out the truth about the Wen remnants in burial mounds either through a memory viewing/array spying thing at a discussion conference or someone personally visiting the burial mounds and sees the truth for themselves. Some of the fics I've enjoyed that has this: A Step in the Wrong Direction by pupeez4eva, Revealing Truth by DreamNightmare, The Path by Seastar98, Green-gege Saves a lot of Lives by Eternal_writes, Righteous at a Cost by thunderwear

Teen Project to Change the World by animeloverhomura (Not Rated, WIP, 841k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Watching the Show, With a bit of the Manhua and Book thrown in, BAMF WWX, Fix-It, JGS is his own warning, Attractive WWX, Homophobia, disturbing imagery)

Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 250k, WIP, WangXian, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Heavy Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Worth Issues)

Discordant Rhapsody by nirejseki (T, 49k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, JC & WWX, WQ & WWX & WN, LWJ & LQR & LXC, canon divergence, fix-it, hurt/comfort, trauma, politics, protective LQR, protective LWJ, protective WWX, LQR centric, whump, angst)

Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, WangXian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts)

while covered in mud by merthurlin (T, 12k, NHS & WWX, NHS & NMJ, NHS & Wen remnants, mentioned wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, NHS goes farming and Hates It)

~*~

2. Hi! I could have sworn there were reaction fics where both the older wangxian and younger wangxian were there but I can't find any right now, could you help me?

~*~

3. Hi!!!!! Itmf request for any fics where LWJ is uber powerful and pampers the hell out of WWX but the focus isn't on smut? I don't mind sex being included,I just don't want it to be 90% of the fic or the driving plot point! Thank you!!! <3

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

願陛下 | by his majesty's decree by sweetlolixo (E, 40k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Concubine WWX, Harems, Pining LWJ, LWJ is not a dragon in this one but he descended from them :), Childhood Sweethearts (sort of), Romance, minimal angst, Happy Ending, NHS & WWX are concubine BFFs, LWJ has NO EYES for anyone besides WWX don’t worry the harem is only for the plot setting, Fantasy, Pregnant WWX, Possessive LWJ, Fluff)

To Deliver an Heir by cerbykerby (E, 49k, WangXian, slight dubcon/noncon but wangxian are into it, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Heat Sex, Knotting, Royalty Medical, Emperor LWJ, Physician WWX, Mpreg, Postpartum Depression, Breeding, Creampie, LWJ literally cannot stop himself from coming in WWX, Breastfeeding)

~*~

4. Any good outside pov fics? ITMF any fic where a character sees wangxian's bond or is surprised at how much wwx can get away with irt the rules with lwj. Just... Idrc about the plot, I just wanna see some reactions to wangxian lol! Preferably not a modern or no cultivation au tho, I love the canon universe too much!!

pitfalls of greed by glitteringmoonlight (T, 3k, WangXian, POV Outsider, BAMF WWX, Kidnapping, Violence, YLLZ WWX, not exactly but the vibes are there, Post-Canon)

The following are time travel fics but involve outsiders being astonished by Wei Wuxian & Lan Wangji's behavior towards each other

trouble with time by cloudpd (T, 5k, WangXian, Time Travel, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, POV Outsider, Humor, POV JC, he's so fed up with wangxian, rightfully so, wangxian are shameless, kind of crack, JC's inner dialogue for this whole fic is just: what the fuck, POV LXC, because LXC deserves to be subjected to gross wangxian as well!!, the third chapter is LJY going "WWX rights!!", and that's all im going to say about that, horny wangxian time travel: the thrilling conclusion)

Wait, What? by MarbleGlove (G, 1k, WangXian, Time Travel, POV Outsider)

the world is but a stage for the two of us by MandMandM (Not Rated, 10k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Established Relationship, Shameless WangXian)

~*~

5. Hello, can i get wangxian fic recs where meng yao is a good guy and close friends with wei wuxian? canonverse, modern day, etc doesn't matter. I'd also love wangxian recs where they adopt jingyi please <3

Meng Yao becomes more like a brother to Wei Ying than a close friend so I hope these are okay:

what builds a home by Stratisphyre (T, 45k, WangXian, MY & WWX, Canon Divergence, Adopted WWX, POV Multiple, warning for JGS behaving exactly as expected, child endangerment, Brother Feels, Minor Character Death, [Podfic] Cold read of "what builds a home" by Stratisphyre by KeriArentikaiPods (KeriArentikai))

and

Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters., hurt no comfort for Jiang siblings.) (link in 8C)

Meng Yao vs. the Board of the Homeowner's Association Series by Ariaste (M/T, 119k, WIP, XiYao, WangXian, Modern AU, Established Relationship, xiyao and wangxian are both already married, Family Feels, Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Slice of Life, Discussions of Past Trauma, wwx's canonical kinks, HOAverse)

~*~

6. Hello! I finished reading Digging Graves by nirejseki so i am itmf any fics where someone asks/begs wei wuxian to bring someone back to life/turn someone they loved who died into a fierce corpse. Thanks :D

some good mistakes by Lise (T, 18k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Road trips, rescue Missions, Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Conversations, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, [Podfic] some good mistakes by kisahawklin)

~*~

7. Hi! for the next itmf, i was wondering if there are any fics where wei wuxian gets his core back after giving it to jiang cheng? not him cultivating a new core but getting his original core back

i just find that idea fascinating. thank you for your help always!!

A Child’s Wish by Hauntcats (Not rated, 13k, wangxian, WWX & Wen remnants, Celestial meddling, Not JC Friendly, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone gets what they deserve, Age Regression/De-Aging, Child LWJ)

💖 Return to Sender by Thesaurus_with_no_words (M, 73k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX , WangXian Get a Happy Ending, YLLZ WWX, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies, canon JC characteristics, Temporary Amnesia, Partial Memory Loss, Literal Emotional Manipulation, Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator WWX, they are all unreliable ok, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon typical horror and gore, Slow Burn)

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence)

Can’t Tell Me Nothin by natacup82 (T, 35k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Family Feels, Communication, BAMF Women)

~*~

8. Hello! itmf these three types of fics:

A) canonverse, Madam Lan lives, wangxian (i didnt know madam lan lives was a tag now I need to see how her existence in canon can change the storyline and wangxian as a whole)

B) Yiling Wei Sect fics (could be wangxian or other wei wuxian M/M ships)

C) Fics where Wei Wuxian takes disciples (whether as Yiling Wei sect Yiling Patriarch or any other reason... preferably xue yang or mo xuanyo)

8A)

💖 An Unexpected Visitor by Hauntcats (G, 8k, QHJ/Madam Lan, wangxian, fix-it of sorts, not Jiang friendly, not jin friendly, happy ending)

Every Mother's Son by Chrononautical (T, 11k, WangXian, Madam Lán Lives, Madam Lán Deserves Better, Madam Lán Leaves Cloud Recesses, Madam Lan rescues women from abusive husbands in feudal Japan and honestly that's so valid of her, mentions of rape/non-con between Madam Lan & Qingheng-Jun)

no step had trodden black by Stratisphyre (T, 32k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, JYL/JZX, canon divergence, madam lan lives, past rape, golden core reveal, hurt/Comfort, referenced to attempted suicide & suicidal thoughts, canon-typical violence)

8B)

🔒 a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 120k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, WWX & WN & WQ, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence after Xuanwu Cave, Fall of Lotus Pier, But worse!, Power Imbalance, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Not Everyone Dies AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Loss of Limbs, Chronic Illness, Seizures, WWX’s Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Wēn Remnants Live, Wēn Remnants Deserve Better, WWX Creates a Sect | Yílíng Wèi Sect, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute LWJ, Service Animals, Crows)

body and soul by TooSel (E, 41k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Marriage Proposal, Everyone Lives AU, Cultivation Sect Politics, Yílíng Wèi Sect AU, Adoption, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, WangXian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts)

💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27, Mojo’s post)

Run Off The World by Sapphire_Roses (M, 302k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, SL/XXC, WIP, Not Everyone Dies AU, Canon Divergence, Wen Remnants Live, Flashbacks, YLLZ WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei Sect, Sect Leader WWX, Married WangXian, OCs, POV Outsider, Morally Grey Characters, (Do Take That Tag Seriously), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Gusu Siblings Feels, Sibling Bonding, Pining, Character Study, Tenderness, Mild Smut, POV Alternating, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Minor Character Death) link in #8C

the sea meets the moon-blanched land by rkivees (G, 44k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Childhood Trauma, Sect Leader WWX, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WQ, Good Parent LQR, First Love, Love Confessions, minor jiang sibs appearance, Mentioned LXC, Past Child Abuse, Drunken Shenanigans, Past Violence, No Golden Core Transfer, Non-Linear Narrative)

8C)

Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters., hurt no comfort for Jiang siblings.)

Run Off The World by Sapphire_Roses (M, 302k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, SL/XXC, WIP, Not Everyone Dies AU, Canon Divergence, Wen Remnants Live, Flashbacks, YLLZ WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei Sect, Sect Leader WWX, Married WangXian, OCs, POV Outsider, Morally Grey Characters, (Do Take That Tag Seriously), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Gusu Siblings Feels, Sibling Bonding, Pining, Character Study, Tenderness, Mild Smut, POV Alternating, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Minor Character Death)

🔒necromancy is a valid career path! Series by coslyons, Skadiseven (T, 41k, WangXian, XY & WWX & WN & WQ, Modern with Magic AU, Seattle, Necromancy, Found Family, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gardens & Gardening, Mathematics, Running, Growing up)

~*~

9. Heyo, this is for ITMF!

Can you rec any fics that have WWX return to his old body? Can be post-canon or during canon after his resurrection. I wanna see how people react to him being in his Glorious Beautiful Sexy self :>

Transcend by covalentbonds (not rated, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Smut, YLLZ WWX is prettiest fight me) features Wei Ying transforming into his original body and being lusted after.

Tripped at Every Step by brooklinegirl (E, 28k, WangXian) These

the hidden source is the watchful heart by o_honeybees (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Domesticity, Touch-Starved, Grief/Mourning, Misunderstandings, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Unresolved Sexual Tension,Eventual Smut, reflections on selfishness and selflessness) fics

This House of Ill Repute by Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (M, 13k, WangXian, First Time, Post-Canon, Getting Together) also have Wei Ying in his original body but it's not the focus of the story

Saw My Life in a Stranger's Face by timetoboldlygo (T, 27k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Married Life, Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, wwx's face changes post-canon to look like his original face, Slight Panic Attack, because lwj doesn't recognize his husband, the mortifying ordeal of not knowing your own body, the terrifying inevitability of change, taller!wwx theory)

~*~

10. hello! thank you for the work you do.. do you have recs for novel canon only (no cql) fics?

~*~

11. hello this is for itmf! do you have any fics where sizhui remembers wei wuxian after the fever/doesn't lose his early memories, or lan wangji making the effort to talk about wei wuxian to sizhui? thank you!

although my mind is young, it is not gentle by everythingispoetry ( T, 27k, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Disability, Parenthood, Growing Up, Family Dynamics, Character Study, Self-Discovery) Sizhui doesn't really know who he remembers about but there are moments of him remembering wei wuxian through dreams

~*~

12. I was rewatching the show recently and got to the scene where the Lan juniors and LWJ all stood in front of WWX when Jin Ling approached him in the caves after the stabbing. I was wondering for ITMF if there were any fics where the juniors are protective of WWX? Preferably if Sizhui is a prominent character in the fics, but I'll take any junior being protective tbh. Thank you!

🧡 the stone-filled sea by yukla (T, 9k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Post-Canon, senior wei defense squad, a study of the way prejudice and injustice and anger trickle down from generation to generation)

bespoke by cafecliche (G, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff, LSZ is a very good boy, which is specifically a tag for the fic but also just true in general, mostly novel-compliant but could easily be CQL-compliant too)

🔒 The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (T, 19k, WangXian, In-Universe RPF, Romance Novel, LJY’s sense of justice, OYZZ’s sense of romance, Featuring a surprise appearance by WWX’s oft-absent sense of shame, Look the ducklings just want their sort-of dads to be happy okay?, And it’s not like WWX or LWJ are doing a good job of ensuring their own happiness, LJY rejects canon reality and substitutes his own, highly relatable actually, Post-Canon Fix-It, primarily drama-canon with cameos from novel-canon, Podfic Available, Russian Translation Available)

one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (G, 7k, WangXian, Post-Canon, POV Outsider, 5+1 Things) has Lan Jingyi, as well as other Lans, standing up for Wei Ying.

~*~

13. Wwx as royal prince with hidden identity

~*~

14. Wwx gets badly hurt while protecting jzx during jl 100 day celebration

the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships (M, 40k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal, Happy Ending) Wei Ying gets badly injured at Qiongqi Path while protecting Jin Zixuan in chapter 8 but Wei Ying was escorting betrothal gifts from the Jin, rather than attending Jin Ling's celebration.

Cradle by Dragonesque (T, 196k, WIP, Canon Divergenc, Adopted children, Yiling Wei Sect, BAMF WWX) Wwx gets badly hurt while protecting jzx during jl 100 day celebration - cradle by dragonesque on ao3 (and its inspiration fic) both feature wwx getting badly hurt and origins of yiling wei sect

~*~

15. I finished reading a wangxian oneshot in which lan xichen tries to get wei wuxian in his bed but fails and so...itmf lan xichen/wei wuxian, nie mingjue/wei wuxian, wen ruohan/wei wuxian fic recs. Preferably complete with bottom wei wuxian if they have smut. Thank you!!

The Joke of Fate by ShallChair (E, 357k, LXC/WWX, Canon Divergence, Marriage First Love Later, Love at First Sleep, Smut, First Time, First Kiss, the Flower Banquet's timeline is before Baifeng Mountain hunt so, Comedy, a little bit humor in the lines, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, The man who succeeds in both Love and Career-LXC, Dark LXC, Dark LWJ, The Dark side mean "Fuck off Cultivation World!", The Exchange of Fate, LXC-centric, DoubleJade centric, The one who stands against the world-LXC; A/B/O, Alpha LXC, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Mpreg, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Scenting, Historical, Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Slight Drama, Bad Parent YZY, Cultivation Empire, Alpha NHS, Older NHS, The flustered Alpha and the handsome Omega, Half Lime Half Plot, YLLZ era, YLLZ WWX, The Thirsty LXC, Martial Arts AU, Wuxia AU, General WWX, Emperor LXC, Qianyuan, Kunze, Zhongyong, Enemy to lover, Concubine WWX, BAMF WWX, Precognitive Dream, the Second elopement, Wen Remnants Live, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Intervention From the Outside World, Teleportation, Sunshot Campaign, Those Days When LXC Chased After YLLZ All Over the Central Plain)

~*~

16. itmf some wwx & jzx bonding similar to 'watch what we'll become' by glitteringmoonlight modern/canon/au it doesn't matter just give me that sweet sweet friendship/brotherly bonding

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 828k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

atlas in his sleepin’ by anatheme (E, 48k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Reincarnation, Family Reunions, Dimension Travel, temporary transmigration, Transmigrator!LWJ, Yunmeng Shuangjie Reconciliation, jzx motherhenning wwx, First Time, Sharing Clothes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies)

~*~

17. itmf a fic where wangxian get horny about "ruining" a hole. You know, there's penetration, or a lot of penetration, and the body is different afterwards. Idc who bottoms, omegaverse, consent, whatever. But no underage please. Thanks!

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[emperordinozenmon]

The Farmer’s Daughter

I came to the countryside to escape all the distractions and finally write my third novel, but instead, I found love—the biggest distraction of all. I arrived in the small town with nothing but my Foil SP Omnimon card Switch, earphones, phone, laptop, relevant chargers, and enough clothes to last me until I finished. The hostel I booked was a recently converted farm run by a family still figuring things out. That was fine; as long as I didn’t have to deal with a bunch of other people, I’d be good.

Or so I thought.

The moment I stepped out of the cab, I was greeted by a young woman in pigtails and overalls, with an adorable smile that practically lit up the countryside. My heart immediately whispered, “Marry this girl now!” My brain, being slightly more practical, suggested, “Maybe at least say hello first.”

I adjusted my bag, approached her, and said, “Hi, I have a reservation. It should be under Austin.”

She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening in a way that made my pulse race. “Austin… let’s see.” She opened a slightly battered logbook, her fingers skimming down the page. “Ah, there you are!” Her English was smooth, but her charming accent made it sound just a bit melodic. She tore a key off a hook and handed it to me.

“Thank you, Mrs…?” I trailed off, leaning in slightly, hoping to catch her name.

“Oh, I’m not married!” she said quickly, a faint pink coloring her cheeks.

“My name is Son Seung Wan but call me Wendy. I’m the main hostess here—and the daughter of the owner.”

“Well, color me impressed. I get the VIP treatment?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed, the sound light and unrestrained. “Well, you’re one of our very first customers, so it only seems fair to make you feel special.” “You’re doing a pretty good job so far,” I said, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face.

Her eyes met mine for a beat longer than necessary, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us. Then she blinked and straightened, brushing a loose strand of hair back. “Oh, wait before you go—” She grabbed a scrap of paper, jotted something down, and handed it to me.

Curious, I glanced at the note. It was her number, along with a quick doodle of a smiley face.

“In case you need anything,” she said, her tone casual, but her lips curved in a way that hinted at mischief.

I met her gaze again, this time letting a wolfish smile creep onto my face. “Anything at all, huh?”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but there was no mistaking the slight blush on her cheeks. “Just don’t lose it, okay?”

“Not a chance,” I said, slipping the note carefully into my pocket. As I walked to my room, I realized I might not get much writing done here after all.

On my first morning at the farm, I woke up before dawn. The timezone difference still had me in its grip, but I didn’t mind. By breakfast, I had already managed to crank out four chapters—a personal best. What finally stopped me wasn’t writer’s block but the loud, insistent grumbling of my stomach.

Unable to ignore it any longer, I ventured outside in search of food. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of hay and earth. As I rounded the barn, I spotted Wendy. She was busy moving bales of hay, her pigtails bouncing slightly with each effort. Dressed in her overalls and boots, she waved when she saw me, flashing that same adorable smile that had disarmed me yesterday.

My heart gave an uncharacteristic flutter.

I walked over without thinking, the words tumbling out of my mouth before my brain could catch up. “Hey, you need some help, pretty lady?”

Wendy’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, but she quickly covered it with a smirk. “Pretty lady, huh? That’s one way to get on my good side.”

I grinned. “It’s a start, isn’t it?”

She laughed lightly, then cocked her head. “I don’t know if a big city boy like you can handle it, though. This is real work, not whatever you call exercise up there wherever you're from.”

I shrugged, leaning casually against the barn door. “Can’t hurt to try.” She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Alright, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

What I’d signed up for turned out to be far more than I expected. First, I helped her lug bales of hay across the barnyard, each one heavier than it looked. Wendy kept glancing at me, clearly waiting for me to give up, but I stubbornly matched her pace.

Next, we fed the animals—cows, chickens, and goats. At one point, a particularly ambitious goat tried to climb into the feed bucket I was holding, nearly knocking me over. Wendy doubled over laughing. “Looks like he’s winning, city boy!”

I managed to shoo the goat away, brushing off my jeans. “That goat’s got nothing on me.”

She smirked, handing me another bucket. “We’ll see.” We moved on to the horses, running a few of them on the track. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was doing, but Wendy coached me through it, her voice teasing but encouraging. She seemed genuinely impressed that I was keeping up.

Two and a half hours later, we finally finished. I wiped the sweat from my brow, trying to catch my breath. Wendy leaned against the fence, her face flushed from exertion but glowing with satisfaction.

“I’m shocked you made it this far, big boy,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Guess that size is good for something.”

“Hey, I used to be a college rugby star for New Mexico,” I countered, puffing out my chest a little.

She chuckled, the sound light and melodic. “A rugby star, huh? Explains the broad shoulders. Still, I’m not sure how you went from that to typing away in front of a laptop all day.”

I smirked, leaning against the fence beside her. “Guess I like to keep people guessing. But what about you? All this hard work—you could probably give a rugby team a run for their money.” Wendy tilted her head, pretending to think. “Maybe. But then who would be here to babysit city boys like you?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Fair enough. So, what’s next? More hay? Another goat to wrestle?” Her stomach growled audibly, and she shot me a sheepish grin. “Actually,

I was thinking food. But since you seem so eager, maybe I should keep you working.”

“Oh, no, food sounds perfect,” I said quickly. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from eating, after all.”

She rolled her eyes, tugging lightly at my sleeve. “Alright, come on, then. Let’s get something to eat before your stomach scares the animals.” “Hey, that was only once!” I protested, falling into step beside her.

As we walked back toward the house, I realized I wasn’t just enjoying the work or the fresh air—I was enjoying her company. Every glance, every smile, every teasing comment felt electric, like the start of something I couldn’t quite define.

Judging by the way her eyes lingered on mine, she might just have felt it too.

We made our way back to the farmhouse, Wendy walking a step ahead of me. She moved with an effortless confidence, her pigtails swaying as she chatted about farm chores and the antics of the animals. I tried to focus on her words—really, I did—but my eyes kept betraying me.

Her overalls fit snugly, hinting at the full, hourglass figure beneath them. It wasn’t just her curves, though; there was something about her—the way she balanced strength with an undeniable softness as if the hard work hadn’t taken away her natural femininity.

“You’re awfully quiet back there,” she said suddenly, turning to glance over her shoulder. Her smile was playful, but her eyes were sharp. “Something on your mind?”

I froze, feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Oh, uh, just thinking about breakfast.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, raising an eyebrow but not pressing further. Inside, the kitchen was cozy and smelled like freshly baked bread and eggs. Wendy moved to the counter, grabbing a loaf from a breadbox and setting out a jar of jam. She gestured for me to sit while she began to plate some scrambled eggs.

As she worked, my eyes flickered again to the curve of her waist and the way her overalls clung to her hips. I quickly looked away, but it was too late.

“Caught you,” she said, her voice sing-song as she turned, a plate in hand and a smirk on her lips.

“Caught me doing what?” I asked, feigning innocence as I reached for the plate.

“Oh, come on,” she said, setting it down in front of me. She leaned on the counter, her smirk fading slightly as she added, “You’ve been sneaking glances since we left the barn. I’m flattered, really… but also kinda surprised.”

“Surprised?” I asked, genuinely confused. She sat down across from me, resting her chin in her hand. “Yeah. Guys usually go for someone… smaller, you know? All my friends back in school were skinny, and it always felt like they got all the attention. Me? Not so much.”

Her tone was light, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. She picked at the edge of her napkin, avoiding my gaze. “I guess it’s just weird hearing compliments like that. I mean, I like food too much to diet, and I’m obviously not built to be dainty.” She gestured at herself with a half-smile. “Most of the time, I’m fine with it. But sometimes…”

She trailed off, shrugging as if to brush the thought away, but I could tell it lingered.

I opened my mouth to respond and immediately panicked, trying to think of something that wasn’t cheesy or dumb. Don’t tell her she’s pretty. Don’t tell her she’s perfect. That’s what every guy says, and it’ll sound hollow. Instead, I took a deep breath and said, “I think… it’s less about what most guys like and more about what’s real. And you, Wendy, are… real. Not trying to be something you’re not. That’s what’s striking about you. You’re just… you.”

Her eyes softened, and she blinked at me as if trying to decide if I was serious. “Real, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “And for the record, you pull off ‘real’ better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

She laughed, some of the tension slipping from her shoulders. “You’re dangerously close to cheesy territory there, city boy.”

I grinned, holding up my hands. “What can I say? You make it hard to avoid.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile she gave me was warm and genuine.

“Alright, alright. Eat your breakfast before you try to sweep me off my feet with more compliments.”

I picked up my fork, but before I took a bite, I looked at her and said, “For the record, I wasn’t trying to sweep you off your feet. Just… being honest.”

Her cheeks turned pink again, and she quickly looked away, but I noticed the small smile lingering on her lips.

As we ate, I couldn’t stop stealing glances at her—and this time, she didn’t seem to mind.

After breakfast, Wendy followed me to my room. I didn’t mind her company—something about her presence felt energizing, even as I worked. I settled at the small desk by the window, my laptop glowing softly in the morning light.

She perched on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, leaning slightly forward as if trying to peek at my screen. I was laser-focused on pounding out another few chapters, but the occasional snicker from her side of the room was hard to ignore.

“What’s so funny?” I asked after the third one, still typing.

“Oh, nothing. You just look so serious, like you’re solving the mysteries of the universe,” she teased, her tone light and playful.

"I am solving the mysteries of the universe…at least for these characters,” I said, glancing at her with a mock frown before turning back to my laptop.

“Sure you are,” she said, barely containing her giggles. For a while, I worked in relative silence, her occasional fidgeting and soft hums the only sounds besides my typing. Then, after what must have been half an hour, she broke the quiet.

“So… what’s this book about? I can see bits and pieces from here, but I can’t get the full picture.”

I paused, leaning back in my chair and stretching. “It’s about a Paladin of Justice who falls in love with a beautiful succubus. It’s meant to be a romantic comedy, mostly.”

Wendy tilted her head, her expression caught between curiosity and disbelief. “A succubus and a paladin? Is the paladin evil?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Nope. They’re both good. Or at least, trying to be. They’re in legitimate love with each other, despite all the odds stacked against them.” Her eyes widened slightly, genuine surprise flickering across her face. “Legitimate love? Like… no trickery, no spells?”

“None,” I said firmly.

She sat back, letting the idea sink in before asking, “So how do they meet? How do they fall for each other?”

I smiled lightly. “Mostly by happenstance. Boy meets girl, falls head over heels, and girl… well, she just happens to be a succubus. They figure out life and love together, and comedy ensues.”

Her lips curled into a smile. “That’s definitely unconventional. Why write something like that?”

I shrugged, spinning my chair slightly to face her. “It’s a creative way for me to address unconventional love. You know, exploring themes like acceptance and understanding, but in a fun, silly way that doesn’t carry the baggage of something like an interracial couple or other real-world dynamics.”

Wendy’s gaze narrowed slightly, her expression shifting to one of intrigue. “So… you use fantasy to confront reality?”

I nodded, a little surprised by her insight. “Exactly. It gives me room to be playful and honest at the same time.” She grinned triumphantly, leaning forward. “See? I can be smart too.”

I frowned, not understanding her tone. “I never said you weren’t smart. Never even thought it.”

Her confident grin faltered, and her cheeks flushed. “Sorry. It’s just… most city boys think I’m a country bumpkin. You know, farm girl, overalls, chickens clucking in the background… even though I graduated top of my class.”

I shook my head, the idea of anyone underestimating her irritating me more than I cared to admit. “Well, I’m not most city boys.”

Her blush deepened, but a smile tugged at her lips. “I’m learning that,” she said softly, her voice almost shy.

For a moment, the air between us felt heavier and warmer. Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt, and I found myself watching the movement, wondering if I’d said the right thing.

Before I could overthink it, I leaned forward slightly, resting my elbows on my knees. “For the record, I think you’re brilliant. And if anyone’s ever made you feel like you’re less than that, they were idiots.”

Her eyes flicked to mine, wide and startled, and for a heartbeat, she didn’t say anything. Then her lips curled into a slow, genuine smile. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“Dangerous how?” I asked, grinning.

“Dangerous because you say things like that and make me think you actually mean them,” she teased, but there was no hiding the warmth in her voice.

I turn to Wendy look her in her eyes and "I mean them,” I say simply, leaning back in my chair.

She laughed, the sound light and musical, and the tension melted away. “Alright, city boy. Keep working on your book. I’ll be here, judging your plot decisions silently.”

“Only silently?” I shot back.

“For now,” she said with a wink.

I finished another 3 chapters then we started the afternoon chores at the farm. I was a bit slower this time around but still managed to keep up with Wendy as she blitzed through them. She would often look back and smile at me

She'd occasionally ask, “Still alive city boy?” to which I respond “Yeah,” I felt bad though because my gaze would continually leer over her body and I had only just met her but I was already deeply infatuated with her Lunch at the farmhouse was as hearty and unpretentious as the setting itself: a steaming bowl of beef stew, fresh bread, and a crisp salad made from vegetables Wendy had likely picked herself. We sat across from each other at a small wooden table in the corner of the kitchen, sunlight filtering through the window and catching in her dark hair. The conversation flowed easily—Wendy had a knack for keeping things light and entertaining. She told me about the antics of the chickens that morning, gesturing animatedly, and I couldn’t help but smile at the way her eyes lit up when she spoke.

“Wait, you’ve never been chased by a rooster before?” she asked her tone equal parts mock disbelief and teasing.

“Not unless you count the time my high school mascot went rogue during homecoming,” I replied.

Wendy laughed, the sound like music before she stood abruptly. “Hold on. I forgot the chili paste. You’ve gotta try it—it’ll change your life.”

Before I could reply, she turned and walked toward the pantry. And just like that, I fell into a trance.

Her overalls clung to her in all the right places, accentuating the curve of her hips and the effortless sway of her walk. The straps framed her shoulders and the way her pigtails bobbed with every step felt almost hypnotic.

But it wasn’t just her figure—it was everything about her. The way she carried herself, confident and relaxed, without a shred of pretense. The way her voice softened when she talked about the farm, was full of pride and affection. The way she smiled like she knew exactly how to make the world a little brighter.

I was completely, hopelessly mesmerized.

“Enjoying the view?”

Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I blinked, realizing she was standing right in front of me, the jar of chili paste in her hand and a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“I, uh…” I stammered, my ears burning.

Wendy tilted her head, her grin widening. “Don’t stop on my account. You looked like you were thinking something very important.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to recover. “Just… admiring the architectural integrity of your pantry. Very sturdy shelves.” She laughed, setting the jar down on the table. “Sure you were.” Sliding back into her seat, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “So? What’s your verdict?”

“On… what?” I asked cautiously.

“On the shelves,” she teased, her smile turning sly.

Caught, I let out a sheepish laugh and met her gaze. “Fine. You got me. I was thinking about you.”

Her brow arched, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Oh? And what exactly were you thinking?”

I hesitated the words balancing on the edge of my tongue. I wanted to tell her everything: how I thought she was stunning, how her laugh felt like sunlight breaking through clouds, how her presence made me forget everything else. But that felt way too heavy for lunch.

Instead, I smirked and said, “I was thinking chili paste might not be the only thing here that could change my life.” Wendy blinked, surprised, before laughing softly. “Wow. A city boy’s got some lines after all.”

“Not just any lines,” I said, leaning slightly closer. “Good ones.” She chuckled again, shaking her head but not looking away. For a moment, the playful banter fell away, replaced by something quieter and deeper. Her smile softened, and she reached for the jar, opening it with a casual grace that made my heart beat faster.

“Alright, Romeo,” she said, breaking the spell as she handed me the jar.

“Let’s see if you can handle this chili paste without crying.”

“Oh, you underestimate me,” I replied, grinning as I took it. As we ate, the tension lingered in the air, warm and electric, and I knew one thing for certain: I was falling for her.

After spending a few quiet hours resting with Wendy, she left to talk with her dad, Mr. Son. I turned my focus back to my writing, managing to chip away at another chapter, but I couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of her warmth beside me or the playful lilt of her voice.

A sharp knock at the door jolted me out of my thoughts. When I opened it, Mr. Son stood there, his broad shoulders framed in the doorway. His expression was as weathered as the land he worked on, and his eyes carried a weight that made me stand a little straighter.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked, though it wasn’t really a question.

“Of course, sir,” I replied, stepping aside as he entered.

He scanned the room, his gaze lingering on the open laptop and scattered notes on the desk before settling on me. Crossing his arms, he fixed me with a steely look. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

The question hit me like a hammer. I expected it, sure, but hearing it aloud—especially in that gravelly tone—made my throat tighten. I let out a slow sigh and met his gaze. “I have a crush on your daughter, sir,” I admitted plainly.

Mr. Son’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “That’s not good enough. I don’t trust city folk, especially not with my daughter. You’ll need to do better than ‘I have a crush.’”

I inhaled deeply, choosing my words carefully. “Your daughter is… incredible, sir. She’s smart, funny, and kind. She’s confident even when she feels insecure, and she has this strength that’s just—” I paused, searching for the right words. “She’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner. I’d marry her in a heartbeat if I could, have a family with her, and spend my life making her as happy as she makes me. She’s my dream girl, sir.”

Mr. Son tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze studying me like a hawk sizing up its prey. “And what’s so special about her that makes her your ‘dream girl?’” he pressed.

I squared my shoulders, determined to answer honestly. “She’s beautiful, of course—anyone can see that. But it’s more than that. Wendy’s wit keeps me on my toes. Her caring nature makes me want to be better. And even with all the hard work she puts in here, she’s still soft—emotionally and physically—in a way that makes me feel grounded. She’s the kind of person who makes you want to fight for something worth keeping.” For a long moment, Mr. Son didn’t say anything. He just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then he took a step closer, his presence towering despite my height advantage.

“You’re not like most city boys,” he said finally, his tone more curious than accusatory.

I nodded. “I try not to be.”

A flicker of something like amusement crossed his face, though it was gone as quickly as it came. “I’m not fully sold on you yet,” he admitted.

“But I’ll give you this—you don’t seem like you’d hurt her.”

“I wouldn’t,” I said firmly. “I couldn’t.”

He chuckled then, a low, gravelly sound that felt like the breaking of ice.

“Well, you’d better not. Because if you do, I’ll make sure everyone in town hears about it.”

“I believe you,” I replied with a small smile.

Satisfied, Mr. Son turned to leave but paused in the doorway. His tone softened slightly. “Wendy’s not like most girls. She’s been hurt before, and she’s always felt different from her friends because of how she looks. She needs someone who’ll see her for who she is and stick by her. Can you do that?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. “I will, sir. I’ll take care of her. I swear it.”

He studied me for another beat, then nodded. “Good. But don’t forget—you screw this up, and it’s not just Wendy you’ll have to answer to.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Understood.”

As he stepped out, I couldn’t help but add, “You’ve got nothing to worry about, though. I have way more to lose if I ever hurt Wendy. People like me… the world loves to see us fail. But I won’t give it that satisfaction—not with her.”

Mr. Son turned back, his expression shifting to one of faint surprise. “That’s an interesting way of looking at things,” he murmured. After a pause, his lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Alright then. Have fun with Wendy.”

With that, he closed the door behind him, leaving me standing in the quiet room, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d passed the test—for now. But more than that, I felt a renewed sense of determination. Wendy was worth every effort, and I wasn’t about to let her—or her father—down. As my heart stopped racing I was surprised to get a text from Wendy asking me if I wanted to go on a double date. The idea of a double date had clearly put Wendy in a good mood. When she mentioned it to me earlier, her smile was equal parts nervous and excited. “Joy wants me to go with her, but I’m not going unless you’re coming too,” she’d said, almost shyly.

How could I say no to that? She asked me in a pretty sun dress she had decided to wear with nice leather boots.

So now we were seated at a polished, cozy restaurant with Joy and her date, a clean-cut guy named Jae who seemed charming enough—at first. Wendy and I sat across from them, sharing appetizers and easy banter.

Joy was effortlessly sociable, and she clearly enjoyed teasing Wendy, poking fun at her for being “so domestic” with her farm duties. But the teasing was lighthearted, and Wendy took it in stride, rolling her eyes and laughing along.

I leaned over to her. “She seems like trouble.” Wendy grinned, whispering back, “You have no idea.” The date was going well—right up until Jae tilted his head, squinting at Wendy like he was trying to place her.

“Wait a second,” he said, his tone sharpening with recognition. “You’re Han Wendy, aren’t you? We went to high school together.” Wendy tensed slightly but managed a polite smile. “Oh, yeah. Jae, right?” “Yeah, that’s me.” He leaned back in his chair, his grin turning smug. “Wow, I didn’t recognize you at first. You’re, uh… still living out on the farm, huh?” Wendy’s smile faltered. “Yeah, I am.” Jae laughed, a little too loudly. “Guess some things never change. I mean, who else could it be? I remember everyone used to call you Cow—what was the other one? Heifer, right?” The table went silent.

Wendy’s cheeks flushed, and I could see her trying to keep her composure, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of hurt. Before she could say anything, something snapped inside me. My chest tightened, my jaw clenched, and the words came out before I even realized what I was saying—my usual measured tone replaced by a thick, unmistakable Texas drawl. “Now hold on there, partner,” I said, my voice low and deliberate. “You best watch what you’re sayin’.” Jae blinked, startled. “What?”

“You heard me,” I said, leaning forward slightly, my eyes locking onto his. “Ain’t no one gonna sit here and call my woman names like that. You got somethin’ to say to her, you say it with respect, or you don’t say it at all.” The accent was as thick as molasses, and for a moment, even I was surprised by the force of it. But it worked. Jae’s smug expression faltered, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Jeez, man, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just a joke.”

“Well, it ain’t funny,” I shot back. “Wendy’s a better woman than you deserve to be sittin’ across from, and you’d do well to remember that.”

Jae muttered something under his breath, clearly not eager to push the issue further. Joy, wide-eyed, gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs. The rest of the meal passed with forced small talk, and when it was over, Wendy and I walked back to the car together in silence.

As soon as we were alone, she stopped, turning to face me. Her expression was unreadable at first, her dark eyes studying me intently. Finally, she broke into a smile, one that was equal parts amused and amazed. “My woman, huh?”

I scratched the back of my neck, feeling my cheeks heat. “It just… came out. I didn’t mean to make a scene or anything.”

“No,” she said quickly, her voice soft. “I mean… thank you. For standing up for me.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say, but then she took a step closer.

“You’re full of surprises, you know that?” she said, her tone playful but sincere. “Here I thought you were just some smart, sophisticated city boy. But turns out, there’s a little bit of a farm boy in you too.”

I chuckled nervously. “Grew up around a lot of cornfields. Guess some habits stick.”

Her smile deepened, and for a moment, she just looked at me, her gaze warm and filled with something I couldn’t quite name.

“I like it,” she said finally. “I like you.”

My breath caught, and before I could respond, she slipped her hand into mine, squeezing it gently.

“Come on,” she said, her voice light again. “Let’s get out of here before Joy tries to rope us into another one of her ‘fun ideas.’”

As we walked to the car, hand in hand, I couldn’t help but feel a new kind of certainty settle in my chest. Wendy wasn’t just someone I was falling for—she was someone I wanted to protect, cherish, and share every part of myself with, even the parts I thought I’d left behind.

And judging by the way her fingers laced with mine, I had a feeling she felt the same.

Here’s the revised and expanded version of the scene, where the narrator’s “Cornfed” side emerges and, with it, his comfort, affection for Wendy, and the eloquence of his pre-college self: The next morning, Wendy was knocking on my door bright and early.

“Up and at ’em, city boy!” she called. “We’ve got work to do!” Groaning, I dragged myself out of bed and opened the door. Wendy stood there, a hand on her hip and a teasing grin on her face, dressed in overalls and a straw hat.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” she said. “The chickens aren’t gonna feed themselves.”

I rubbed my eyes, giving her an exaggerated groan. “You’re way too cheerful for this early in the morning.”

She smirked. “Can’t help it. Gotta see if I can bring out more of that Cornfed Boy I saw last night. I know he’s in there somewhere.”

I rolled my eyes but grabbed my boots. “Alright, boss. Let’s see what you’ve got for me.”

At the chicken coop, Wendy handed me a basket and gestured toward the hens. “Alright, let’s see if you remember how to do this.”

I stepped inside, and the chickens clucked and fluttered nervously. A younger me might have hesitated, but something about being back on the farm—with Wendy watching expectantly—felt natural.

“Hush now, darlin’,” I murmured to a particularly noisy hen. “Ain’t no need for all that fussin’.”

Wendy straightened up, her grin widening. “Was that a little twang I just heard?”

I chuckled, crouching to collect the eggs. “You’re hearing things, Wendy. These chickens’ve got you spooked.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, leaning on the fence and crossing her arms. “City boy’s trying real hard to hide it, but it’s coming out.”

As I worked, I found myself relaxing more and more. The motions were familiar, and the weight of the basket in my hand felt like an old friend. By the time I handed the basket to Wendy, I wasn’t even thinking about hiding the accent that had crept into my voice.

“You’re pretty good at this,” she said. “Starting to think I’m not the only one who grew up around chickens.”

“Spent a few summers doin’ chores like this,” I admitted. “Dad wanted to keep me outta trouble, so he sent me to help out some neighbors. Learned a thing or two.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re really Cornfed, huh?”

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out,” I replied with a sly grin. When it came time to muck out the stalls, Wendy handed me a pitchfork and leaned against the barn door.

“Alright, Mr. Cornfed,” she said, smirking. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” I didn’t even hesitate, rolling up my sleeves and setting to work. The smell wasn’t pleasant, but the rhythm of shoveling and tossing was oddly satisfying. As I worked, I found myself explaining the best way to handle stubborn spots and how to keep the bedding clean without wasting hay.

“You’re awfully good at this for a city boy,” Wendy teased.

I shrugged, leaning on the pitchfork for a moment. “It’s just about workin’ smarter, not harder. You gotta respect the process. Animals ain’t so different from people—give ’em a clean space, a little kindness, and they’ll take care of the rest.”

Her eyes softened, and she tilted her head. “You sound like you’ve been doing this your whole life.”

I smiled, my voice taking on a more thoughtful tone. “Maybe I forgot for a while, but it’s comin’ back to me. Feels… good, y’know? Like I’m findin’ a piece of myself I didn’t know I’d lost.”

She stared at me for a moment, her smile turning from teasing to something gentler. “I like this side of you,” she said softly. At lunchtime, we sat together on the porch, the sun warming our faces as we ate. Wendy had made sandwiches and sweet tea, and the simplicity of it all felt just right.

“You know,” I said, leaning back against the railing, “this is the kinda meal that sticks with you. Not just in your stomach but in your heart.” Wendy blinked at me, then laughed. “Wow. That was downright poetic.”

“Farm-work does that to a man,” I said, winking at her. She nudged me with her foot. “Alright, Shakespeare. What else you got?” I turned toward her, resting my arm on the railing. “I’ve got this,” I said, my voice softening. “You, sittin’ here in the sun, lookin’ like you belong to this place in a way most people never will. It’s beautiful, Wendy. You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, pretending to adjust her hat.

“You keep talking like that, and I might start believing you.”

“Good,” I said, my voice low but steady. “Because I mean every word.” By the time we got to the creek in the afternoon, I was more comfortable in my skin than I had been in years. Wendy led me to the water’s edge, kicking off her shoes and splashing into the shallows.

“You coming in, or are you too fancy for creek water now?” she teased.

I grinned, rolling up my pant legs and stepping in after her. “You forget,

I’m just a Cornfed boy at heart.”

She laughed, splashing me lightly. “Prove it!”

I splashed her back, and we spent the next few minutes chasing each other through the water, laughing and hollering like kids. At some point, I caught her by the hand and pulled her close, the cool water swirling around our legs as we caught our breath.

“Y’know,” I said, my voice dipping into a deeper drawl, “you’ve got a way of bringin’ out the best in me.”

Wendy tilted her head, her eyes shining. “Maybe because this is the best of you,” she said softly.

I smiled, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. “Reckon you’re right.”

Her grin widened, and she leaned against my side as we waded to the bank to dry off. Sitting there together, the sun dipping low in the sky, I felt like I was finally whole again—and it was all because of her.

The next morning found me in the barn, fixin’ a loose latch on one of the horse stalls Wendy had mentioned yesterday. Sunlight spilled through the slats in the wood, catchin’ on the dust motes hangin’ lazy in the air. I was whistlin’ low and easy as I worked, pausin’ now and again to make sure the latch lined up just right.

“Didn’t expect to find you out here this early,” came a familiar voice from the barn door.

I straightened up and turned to see Mr. Son leanin’ against the frame, arms crossed, his gaze as steady and sharp as ever.

“Mornin’, sir,” I said, brushin’ my hands off on my jeans. “Latch was givin’ your horse some trouble, so I figured I’d see to it. Ain’t no sense lettin’ a small thing turn into a big problem.”

His eyebrows lifted, though he didn’t comment right away. Instead, he stepped inside, his boots scuffin’ softly against the wood. “You’ve been keepin’ yourself busy,” he remarked.

I nodded, settin’ the screwdriver aside. “Just tryin’ to pull my weight. Wendy’s been workin’ circles ’round me, so I figured I’d better start earnin’ my keep.”

He chuckled low, though his tone stayed cautious. “That so?” “Yessir,” I said, leanin’ a little against the stall door. “Place like this needs constant care, and I reckon there’s no better way to show I’m serious than to put in the work.”

Mr. Son studied me for a long moment, his eyes squintin’ like he was seein’ me for the first time. “You’re talkin’ different than you did a couple days ago,” he said finally.

I shrugged, a faint grin tuggin’ at my lips. “Guess bein’ here brings it out of me. I spent my summers on farms like this when I was younger. Dad thought it was important I learn how to work with my hands, so he sent me to help out local folks who needed it. This life kinda gets under your skin—it stays with you.”

His expression shifted slightly, though his arms stayed crossed. “Didn’t expect a city boy to know his way around a barn.”

“Well,” I said, straightenin’ up and leanin’ on the stall door, “city boy’s just the surface. Dad was a professor, and he believed in groundin’ his kids with hard work. Every summer, I’d wake up before dawn, shovel stalls, fix fences, harvest crops—whatever needed doin’. Taught me a lot about patience and pride in a job well done.”

His gaze softened, though he didn’t uncross his arms just yet. “That’s rare these days. Most young folks wouldn’t know the first thing about how to fix a fence, let alone stick with it.”

“Yessir,” I said with a small nod. “There’s somethin’ about seein’ the results of your work—somethin’ real, y’know? Even when I was back in the city, stuck at a desk or in a lecture hall, part of me always missed this. The smell of the earth, the ache in your muscles after a long day, the quiet satisfaction of buildin’ somethin’ with your own two hands.”

Mr. Son looked me over again, his eyes narrowing like he was weighin’ my words. “You’ve changed,” he said slowly.

“Maybe,” I replied, smilin’ a little. “Or maybe I’m just settlin’ back into the part of me I tried to leave behind.”

His chuckle was quieter this time, almost thoughtful. “When you first showed up, I figured you were one of those smooth-talking city types. Someone who’d sweet-talk my daughter and leave her with nothin’ but heartbreak.”

“I get why you’d think that,” I said, my voice steady. “But sir, Wendy’s more than just a pretty face to me. She’s…” I paused, searchin’ for the right words. “She’s the kind of woman who makes you wanna be better, just by bein’ around her. And I don’t take that lightly.”

Mr. Son’s shoulders relaxed a little, though his eyes stayed sharp. “You ain’t just talkin’, are you?”

“No, sir,” I said firmly. “I’ve got every intention of stickin’ around, so long as she’ll have me. And if that means puttin’ in the work, then I’ll do it. Whether it’s muckin’ stalls or mendin’ fences, I’m here for the long haul.” For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at me like he was seein’ something he hadn’t expected. Finally, he nodded. “Well, I’ll be damned. Didn’t think I’d see the day a city boy walked into my barn and left actin’ like a college-educated cowboy.”

I chuckled, rubbin’ the back of my neck. “Life’s funny that way, I guess.” He stepped closer, clappin’ a hand on my shoulder. “You keep showin’ me this side of you, and I might just start callin’ you somethin’ other than city boy.”

“I’d like that,” I said with a grin.

As he turned toward the door, he glanced back. “And your writin’? How’s that comin’ along?”

“It’s goin’ great,” I said, my grin widenin’. “Almost halfway done now. Somethin’ about bein’ here… it clears my head. The words’ve been comin’ easier than they ever did back in the city.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s good. Just don’t forget where your priorities are.” “Yessir,” I said with a nod.

When he left, I leaned against the stall, feelin’ a quiet kind of satisfaction. The city had polished me up, sure, but bein’ here had reminded me of who I really was. And I wasn’t just writin’ a novel—I was rebuildin’ myself, piece by piece, with every nail I hammered and every word I wrote.

The morning sun was sittin’ high by the time Wendy finished her chores and wandered over to where I was perched on the porch, takin’ a breather with my notebook open in my lap. She was glowing, as she always seemed to be after a morning of wranglin’ chickens and tendin’ to the garden. Her hair was tucked up under her straw hat, a streak of dirt smudged on her cheek that only made her look more radiant.

“Whatcha workin’ on?” she asked, leanin’ against the porch railing and squintin’ down at the notebook like she could read it upside-down.

“Just hammerin’ out some details for the next chapter,” I said, smilin’ up at her. “Want a peek?”

Her face lit up like I’d offered her the keys to a candy shop. “You serious? I’d love to!”

I handed over the notebook, watchin’ as she plopped down on the porch swing beside me. She tucked one leg under herself, balanced the notebook on her knee, and began readin’ with an intensity that made me feel like a schoolboy waitin’ on a grade.

Her lips moved faintly as she read, and every so often, her eyes widened or her brow furrowed, her reactions tellin’ me more than words ever could. When she finally closed the notebook, she let out a breath and turned to me, her gaze so earnest it made my heart skip a beat. “This is really good,” she said, her voice soft but certain.

“You think so?” I asked, my voice comin’ out a little rougher than I intended.

“Yeah,” she said, noddin’ like she was tryin’ to convince me as much as herself. “I love your use of imagery. Like here”—she flipped back a page and pointed—“when you described the sunset as ‘a lazy cat stretchin’ across the horizon, all claws of pink and gold.’ That’s such a vivid, unexpected image, but it fits perfectly.”

I scratched the back of my neck, feelin’ heat creep up under my collar. “Well, uh, thanks.”

“And the foreshadowing!” she continued, her enthusiasm bubblin’ over. “It’s subtle, but it’s there, like breadcrumbs leadin’ the reader without them even realizin’ it. And your style—it seems simple at first, but the more I read, the more layers I see. It’s like a quilt, each piece tellin’ its own story but all stitched together into somethin’ whole.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “You sure do talk pretty, Wendy. Soundin’ downright college-educated there.”

She laughed, leanin’ back against the swing. “That’s because I am. I’ve got a doctorate in literary sciences and linguistics.” The notebook nearly slipped from my hands. “You’re pullin’ my leg.”

“Nope.” She beamed, sittin’ up straighter. “Defended my dissertation three years ago. I studied how storytelling shapes language development in children and how it’s tied to intelligence across cultures.” I let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be. Here I was thinkin’ I was impressin’ you, and you’ve probably forgotten more about literature than I’ll ever know.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she said, tappin’ my notebook with a playful smirk. “You’ve got talent. And it’s not just your imagery or style—it’s the way you understand people, their struggles and joys. That’s the kind of thing no amount of study can teach you.”

“Guess I had a good teacher, then,” I said, thinkin’ back to my dad and the way he’d always read to us as kids, his voice deep and steady, drawin’ me into worlds far beyond our little farm.

That comment must’ve sparked somethin’, because soon we were knee-deep in a conversation about the role of stories in human history. Wendy talked about how oral traditions preserved culture and passed down knowledge long before writin’ was a thing, and I chimed in about how even now, stories are how we make sense of a world that don’t always make sense on its own.

Her words were sharp and insightful, but there was a warmth to ’em, too, like she wasn’t just speakin’ from her head but from her heart. And the more we talked, the more I found myself leanin’ into a rhythm I hadn’t felt in years. My words slowed, pickin’ up a drawl I hadn’t noticed before, and my thoughts came together like rows of crops, neat and orderly, every idea growin’ from the one before it.

By the time we circled back to my novel, I realized the city boy I’d been tryin’ to be all these years had vanished like smoke on the wind. What was left was me—plain and simple. A man who loved the land, loved the work, and, if I was bein’ honest, was startin’ to think he might love the woman sittin’ beside him, too.

“You know,” I said, my voice lower and softer than it’d been in years, “I reckon I’ve learned more sittin’ here talkin’ to you than I ever did in a lecture hall.”

Wendy smiled, her eyes crinklin’ at the corners. “That’s sweet, but I think you’ve had it in you all along. You just needed the right person to bring it out.”

“Well,” I said, settlin’ back against the swing, “ain’t no one better for the job than you, darlin’.”

The word slipped out natural as breath, and when she looked at me, her eyes wide and her cheeks pink, I knew there wasn’t a lick of the city left in me. I was home, in every sense of the word.

The evening had settled into that perfect sweet spot where the sun had just dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a soft lavender, with the warmth of the day still lingering in the air. Wendy and I were dressed a little nicer than usual for tonight’s double date, but still, nothing fancy. Wendy wore a simple sundress, her hair flowing freely in the warm breeze, and I had on a button-down shirt that was slightly wrinkled from the long day on the farm.

Joy and Arbor arrived shortly after we did, with Arbor flashing me a grin that told me he was fully aware of what he was about to witness. Arbor had always been an easy-going guy, someone I could always depend on during the roughest farm days, but I hadn’t seen him in a while since I’d been away at college. And now? Well, now I was feelin’ like a completely different man, for better or worse.

Wendy gave him a quick hug, and then we all sat down at a cozy corner booth at the little family-owned restaurant. The conversation started easy enough—Joy asking about the farm, Wendy laughing at some old memory I had of accidentally dropping a whole bucket of feed into the wrong stall, and Arbor sitting back with a knowing smile, looking from me to Wendy with a strange amusement.

At some point, Arbor’s eyes flicked over to me. He paused mid-sentence, setting his glass down. “You know, Austin,” he said, drawing out my name like he was testing it on his tongue, “it’s funny. I barely recognized you when I first walked in. I mean, you’re like… a whole new person.” I shot him a glance, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He chuckled, leaning back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest. “I used to know you as that city kid, always talkin’ about how you couldn’t wait to leave the farm and go back to the hustle and bustle of college life. And now look at you.” He gestured to my shirt, the way I was sitting—relaxed, comfortable, with a quiet confidence I hadn’t exactly had back in the day.

“Well, I did spend a few years learning how to blend in with the city folks,” I said with a chuckle, though the words didn’t quite fit right in my mouth anymore. “Guess I was hopin’ I could shake off the farm life a bit.” Arbor raised his eyebrows, giving me a look that said he knew better. “You sure you’ve shaken it off? I mean, not that I’m complainin’, but you’ve got a whole different energy now. You talk slower, sit straighter… and I swear to God, you even sound different. I can hear that Southern drawl comin’ out now. You’re startin’ to sound like a damn cowboy, Austin. Hell, you even look like one.”

I could feel my face heat up, and I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly, glancing over at Wendy. She was smiling at me with a gleam in her eyes, clearly enjoying the show. I leaned forward, catching Arbor’s gaze. “Guess the farm has a way of rubbin’ off on a fella. Guess I’m just more comfortable here. More at home, y’know?”

Arbor didn’t look surprised, but there was a touch of nostalgia in his eyes as he leaned forward. “Yeah, I get that. Used to be you’d complain about every single chore, but now you’re workin’ alongside it all, like it’s second nature to you. You’ve really found your place, huh?”

I let out a slow breath, glancing down at my hands. “Funny how things change when you’re not tryin’ to force ‘em. I didn’t expect to end up here, but here I am. Feels like I’ve found somethin’ that I’ve been missin’.”

Arbor studied me for a moment before nodding slowly. “You’re happier here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said simply, my voice a little more sure of itself. “Guess I am.” Wendy, who had been quietly watching the exchange, leaned over to me, her voice soft but warm. “I think it’s more than just the farm, though. It’s who you’ve become. Who you really are.”

I felt a rush of something in my chest. She was right. It wasn’t just the farm. It was the way I’d come back to myself, to the boy I used to be, before all the city pressures and the desire to be something I wasn’t. This… this felt like the real me.

As the conversation moved on, I noticed that Arbor was glancing over at me every now and then, like he was piecing something together in his mind. Finally, he put his glass down, looked me dead in the eye, and said,

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it. You know, when we were workin’ together back in the day, I always saw you as a city kid tryin’ to find his way in the world. But now? Now you’re more grounded. More… at peace with yourself. Hell, I don’t know if it’s the farm, or Wendy, or just you finally growin’ up, but I gotta say… it’s a damn good change.”

Wendy smiled at the comment, but I could see something flicker behind her eyes—pride, maybe? Maybe even something deeper. Something between the two of us that I wasn’t ready to name yet, but I could feel it growin’ every time we spoke, every time we shared a quiet moment. I smiled back at Arbor. “Thanks, man. I guess it’s been a good ride so far.” Arbor winked. “Well, I’ll be damned, Austin. I think you’ve finally come home.”

The night had wound down, the warmth of the evening still hanging in the air as we walked back to the farm. The others had already gone, laughing and chatting as they made their way home, leaving Wendy and me alone under the deep velvet sky, the stars twinkling like diamonds above.

We walked side by side, the soft crunch of gravel beneath our boots the only sound, and yet, everything felt so loud—like the world was holding its breath. I couldn’t help but glance over at her every so often, her profile illuminated by the faint glow of the porch light up ahead.

There was something about the way she carried herself now. It wasn’t just her beauty—though God, she was beautiful—but the way she held the world around her like it was hers to nurture. It was the way she talked, the way she laughed, the way she loved this farm and everything it stood for. And it was the way she made me feel like I belonged here too.

We stopped just outside the door, and for a moment, everything went quiet. The door was just a few feet away, but neither of us moved. I felt her presence like a pull, like gravity, and I couldn’t look away from her.

“You know, you really have changed, Austin,” she said softly, her voice full of affection, her eyes warm as they met mine.

I shifted my weight, unsure how to respond to that, but before I could think of anything to say, she continued, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

“I mean, I loved the city boy at first,” she started, eyes twinkling with mischief, “but now? Now I get to see my cowboy come alive. And it’s… honestly the best thing ever. I didn’t know it could feel this good, watching someone finally shed their old skin and become who they really are.”

I felt my heart skip a beat at her words. I could see it in her eyes, in the way she spoke about it, how proud she was of me—not just for the changes I’d made, but for being me. The me that was finally here, in the place I was meant to be.

Wendy took a step closer, and for a moment, I thought she might say something more, but instead, she grinned, her eyes sparkling with a playful glint.

“You know,” she started, voice dropping a little lower, “I think I’m gonna claim you, Austin.”

I blinked, caught off guard, and she raised an eyebrow at me. “Claim me?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow of my own, unsure of where she was going with this.

“Yeah,” she said with that same mischievous grin. “I mean, I might have to brand you, you know? Just to make sure everyone knows you belong to me.”

My mouth went dry. I laughed, trying to keep my cool, but there was something so serious in her expression that made me pause, my heart racing.

“You’re gonna brand me?” I asked, a grin spreading across my face despite the nervous flutter in my chest.

“Yep,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest with an air of finality. “I’ll get one of those hot irons and press it right on your arm—just a little mark, so you know, everyone knows you’re mine.”

I just stared at her, dumbfounded. My heart was pounding, and my throat felt a little dry.

She was so sure of it, her face beaming with joy, and I couldn’t help but be absolutely enthralled by her excitement. The way she spoke about it, the way she was so open, so confident in her love, it left me speechless.

“Wendy,” I murmured, unable to find the right words at first, but then, something shifted. Her energy was so infectious, so full of life, that I finally found my voice. “You… you make me feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

She laughed, her face lighting up at my response. “Well, that’s the point,” she said, her voice softening just slightly as she reached up to place a hand on my chest, feeling the steady beat of my heart. “I want you to feel like that. I want you to feel like you belong here, with me.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached for her, pulling her closer and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. The way she fit into my arms, how easy it felt to hold her—it was like she was meant to be there. Like we were meant to be here, together.

“Wendy,” I said again, this time, my voice more steady, more sure. “I… I’ve never known anything like this before. You’ve made me realize so much, and I—” I stopped myself, then took a deep breath. “I love you. I love everything about you.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at me with wide eyes, her lips parted in surprise. And then, a smile spread across her face, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears as she reached up, cupping my face in her hands. “I love you too, Austin,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “I never thought I’d find someone like you. Someone who would make me feel this way.”

For a long moment, we just stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fading away. There were no words left to say, because everything we needed to communicate had already been said in that one simple moment.

And then, with that same mischievous glint in her eye, she looked up at me again and said, “Now… about that brand?” I couldn’t help but laugh, my heart swelling with affection for this woman who had not only claimed my heart but had made me see the world in ways I never imagined.

“Guess I’ll just have to take you up on that,” I teased, grinning down at her. “But I’m pretty sure there’s nothin’ more permanent than the way you’ve already got me.”

And with that, she laughed, the sound filling the night air, and for the first time in my life, I realized just how right it felt to be exactly where I was—with her, in this moment, in this life we were building together. The night moved on after that, filled with lighthearted chatter, but my mind kept wanderin’ back to Arbor’s words. You’ve finally come home. And for the first time in a long while, I realized… he was right. This was home. With Wendy. With the farm. With everything that had come together. The world around us faded away, the only thing left in focus was Wendy in my arms. Her breath was steady, but I could feel her heart thumpin’ against my chest, beatin’ in time with my own. She pulled back just enough to look up at me, those eyes of hers piercin’ right through me like she could see deep down into my soul. I’d always prided myself on bein’ a man of steady hands and steady nerves, but now, standin’ here with her, I realized she could shake my whole world with just a look.

Her smile, soft but sure, sent a shiver through me. When she leaned in just a bit closer, pressin’ herself up against me, the air got thick, heavy with something that felt like it was pullin’ me deeper. My heart pounded, my breath caught. It wasn’t just the way she looked—it was the way she made me feel. She had a way of makin’ everything around her seem so real, so vivid, that it felt like nothin’ else mattered but the two of us. Her hand slid from my chest to my jaw, gently tracing the line of it like she had every right to be there. I was dizzy from the way she made me feel, lightheaded with the power of it. “You’re incredible, you know that?” she whispered, her voice low, warm, full of affection.

I had to swallow hard, tryin’ to keep my composure, but truth be told, she’d already knocked that all to hell. “I’m just a fella who loves you, Wendy,” I managed to get out, my voice rough from the weight of it all. Her grin stretched even wider, and damn if it didn’t make the world brighter. “Well, lucky for you, I love you back, cowboy,” she teased, but I could hear the sincerity in her voice, feelin’ it in my bones. No question in my mind now. We were in this together.

She must’ve felt the shift in me ‘cause her smile softened, her fingers threading through my hair like she wasn’t ever gonna let me go. I could feel the weight of her touch, the way it anchored me, and I wasn’t goin’ anywhere.

“Wendy…” I whispered her name like a prayer, my chest tight as I fought for air. “You… You make me feel like I’m alive, like I’m real.”

She pulled back just a hair, steadyin’ herself before meetin’ my gaze. “I am real, Austin,” she said, voice firm and steady, like she was claimin’ her place in the world, like she was tellin’ me and the whole damn world that she was here to stay. And that confidence, hell, it was somethin’ I’d never seen before. “And I’m not afraid of bein’ who I am. Not anymore. Not with you.”

Her words hit me like a damn freight train, and I felt the grip she had on me, both physically and emotionally, as strong as a rope lassoed tight ’round my heart. She held me with a strength I hadn’t known anyone could possess, the quiet power of a woman who knew exactly who she was and wasn’t afraid to show it. And damn, it made me fall harder for her.

Her hand moved from my chest to my face, her thumb tracing across my skin, and I couldn’t stop lookin’ at her. My gaze drank her in, savorin’ every curve, every line, every inch of her. She had me in the palm of her hand, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“I’ve never been this sure about anything in my life,” she said softly, almost like a confession. “Not just about us, but about me. About everything.”

Her words, full of certainty, confidence, and self-assurance, made my chest swell. I didn’t know what it was about her, but she made me feel seen, like I wasn’t just some guy from the city tryin’ to make a life. I was somebody. I was hers. And she was mine.

I pulled her in closer, my hands cuppin’ her face like she was somethin’ too precious to let go of. “You’re incredible, Wendy. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone like you.”

She tilted her head, her eyes steady on me, that smile of hers not just a smile anymore but a damn promise. It was a promise that she was mine, and I was hers. And that made everything feel right in the world.

She leaned in, close enough now that I could feel her breath on my lips, whisperin’ soft as silk, “You’re mine, cowboy. All mine.” And in that moment, all the walls, all the doubts, the pieces of me that were still unsure—hell, they were gone. There wasn’t a single trace of that old life left. No more “city boy.” There was just me, the cowboy, standin’ here with her, and I was complete.

My heart raced, but this time, it was a good kind of fast. And as she held me tight, her confidence spillin’ into me like a steady stream, I couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest son of a gun in the world.

The soft glow of the evening sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. Donny lay on his back on Wendy’s bed, his arm casually draped around her as she nestled into the crook of his shoulder. Her forehead grazed his jaw as she shifted to get more comfortable. The faint scent of her skin, a mix of something sweet and wild, lingered in the air between them.

Wendy sighed, her breath warm against his chest as she traced lazy circles on his stomach with her fingers. “You know, for all the chaos in our lives, moments like this make it feel… simple,” she murmured.

“Simple, huh?” Donny chuckled softly, his voice rumbling in his chest. “I don’t think anything about us is simple”

She smirked, glancing up at him with a playful glint in her eyes. “Okay, maybe not simple. But… I like that when I’m with you, everything else fades away,” she teased, giving them a gentle shake for emphasis.

My smile deepened as his hand slid down to her back, gently brushing my fingers against the small of her back just above her waist. She tensed for a moment, then relaxed, her body responding to my careful, affectionate touch. My fingertips traced the soft membrane of her back, moving slowly so as not to overwhelm her.

“You know, this is still new for me,” Wendy said softly, her voice betraying a mixture of vulnerability, contentedness, and curiosity. “I’m not used to… anyone touching me. Especially with them being so sensitive,”

“Does it hurt?” I asked, my voice gentle as my fingers continued their slow, calming strokes along her shoulder blades.

“No, it’s… actually kind of nice, too nice” she admitted, a small smile playing at her lips as she nestled closer to me.

My other hand found its way to her tummy, gently running along the length of it with the same care he’d shown her back. Wendy’s eyes fluttered closed as she melted further into my embrace, a soft sound of contentment escaping her lips.

“You always know how to make me feel safe,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s the plan,” I said with a smile, my touch never faltering as I pet her tummy and shoulders in slow, soothing patterns. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now.”

Her eyes softened as she rested her cheek against my chest again, listening to the steady rhythm of my heartbeat. “Good. Because I can’t imagine going through all of this without you.” There was a vulnerability in her voice now, one she rarely let show. “You ground me, Austin. When I’m with you, I feel like I can handle whatever’s coming.”

I shifted, tightening my arm around her as I pulled her closer. “You’re stronger than you think, Wendy. You don’t need me to handle anything. But… I’ll be here anyway. Always.”

She smiled at that, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “That’s the thing. You always make me feel stronger. But I don’t want to be strong all the time. Sometimes I just want to be… here. With you. Like this.”

“I think I can live with that,” I said, my fingers continuing their gentle exploration of her body. “Besides, it’s not like I’m exactly looking for an excuse to be anywhere else.”

Wendy tilted her head up to look at me, her expression mischievous now. “Is that so? What if I told you I was going to turn into a giant succubus monster and you’d have to deal with all my dramatic mood swings forever?”

I raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Then I’d say bring it on.

I can handle your mood swings. I’ve already got a pretty good track record with you.”

She gave me a light smack on the chest, though there was no real force behind it. “Jerk.”

“Hey, you love it,” I teased, dipping my head to kiss her again, this time on the lips, lingering just a little longer.

Wendy grinned against my mouth, her hand sliding up to cup the side of my face. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

We lay there in silence for a while after that, the quiet between us comfortable and full of unspoken promises. The world outside felt far away, the weight of our lives reduced to nothing in the warmth of our shared space. Finally, Wendy broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. “No matter what happens… no matter who or what comes for us… I’ll always fight for you, Austin.”

I looked down at her, my heart swelling at the determination in her eyes. “And I’ll always be there, fighting right beside you. We’re in this together.” She smiled, that familiar spark of playful mischief returning to her gaze. “Good. Because I’m not letting you off the hook. Ever.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I murmured, my lips brushing hers once more as my hand found its way back to her cheeks, caressing them tenderly, sealing the quiet vow we both knew we'd keep for as long as it took—through every storm and shadow.

As we settled back into each other’s arms, the world could wait. For now, it was just us. As I continued to trace lines and trails around Wendy’s body

[hs-killjam]

really wished the My Time At series had more attention (at least on tumblr) cause like its a cool, unique comfy game that has a whole bunch of crazy shit happening in its world that becomes more apparent as you play through the game

plus its during a time where humanity is trying to rebuild itself after these events

also instead of being a farmer, you're a builder taking commissions from the local citizens and helping with developing the location you live in (as of right now, Portia and Sandrock)

ALSO ALSO the fact the current two games actually take part along side each other and you can work on both ends to make a road between the two locations

Currently right now the studio (Pathea) is hosting a kickstarter for the third game (My time at Evershine) it already hit the goal and way beyound that but stretch goals tho. You are however a mayor in that game instead of a builder but I am looking forward to how things will be with that change.

If you ever do check out the games, I highly suggest playing Portia first before Sandrock, as its the first to come out and it might be jarring to go from SR to Portia since SR has quality of life features not present in Portia.

I could honestly go on a big rant on these games but I am holding myself back (for now). Really big recommend from me and worth checking out if you want to try new comfy games that has a different take on the usual formula

[mysteri0us-0utlaw]

can i request sebastian teaching a shy f!farmer how to touch herself after learning that he's her first serious boyfriend (with a bit of a praise kink sprinkled in?)

Even though you and Sebastian had been dating for a few weeks, the two of you hadn’t really had a whole lot of time to yourselves as a couple. You were going to remedy that—tonight, you had made special reservations for a new sushi restaurant in Zuzu City. After that, you were going to take him on a romantic moonlit walk through your favorite park, and then bring him back home to your farm. You were quite nervous, as you were still a virgin and wanted to impress Sebastian. You neglected to mention to him on the ride into the city how long you spent getting ready, mulling over various outfit choices in front of your wardrobe and rhetorically asking your dog, Clover, for advice on what to wear. Eventually, you settled on a skin-tight purple dress adorned with little gold stars, the sleeves drooping loosely down your arms. 

You’d wanted him to think you were pretty. Needed it, more than you needed the air you breathe. Your heart just about burst out of your chest when he picked you up from the farm, his chocolate brown eyes lighting up when he saw you, his voice gravely and low as he says, “hey, sweetheart, aren’t you just perfect?” 

Embracing him on his motorcycle as you rode the highway into the city made your skin feel as though it were on fire, or frozen solid, or maybe both at the same time. You felt electric as you clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around his chest. Even with a helmet on, the smell of his cologne wafted into your nose, and you inhaled deeply. He smelled like the embodiment of autumn, with notes of apples and cinnamon, and it drove you crazy with desire. You almost laughed at yourself, the fact that you waited so long to have him and now that you did, you were too scared to do anything about it.  

Sebastian noticed your apprehension during dinner after about the third time of you blushing and looking away the second you two made eye contact. He looked at you endearingly with a smile on his face as you acted as shy as when you first met him, and he reached a hand across the table and encompassed it around yours. You nearly jumped out of your skin from the unexpected contact, and you timidly raise your eyes to meet his.  

“What’s got you so worked up, doll?” he asked, his husky voice sending a shiver down your spine. You pondered for a moment on what to say. 

“I just...I just wanted this night to be nice, but I can’t seem to get my nerves under control...” the vulnerability was making your heart pound, and your whole face felt like it was on fire.  

“You’re my first boyfriend, I'm basically just winging it over here because I don’t know what to do,” you looked away at that, unsure of what Sebastian must think now that he knows how inexperienced you are. Instead of pulling away, he just rubbed circles on your hand with his thumb. 

“Who said this wasn’t nice?” he finally said after a moment of silence. You met his gaze. 

“I’m eating my favorite food with the world’s most beautiful girl; how could this not be a nice night?” He let go of your hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.  

“And if I'm your first boyfriend,” he murmured, a rosy blush dusting across his cheeks as he stares longingly into your eyes, “I have to make this a night you won’t forget.”  

After paying for your meal, Sebastian took your hand and the two of you walked down the still bustling streets of Zuzu, the city that apparently doesn’t sleep. You took the opportunity away from your shared friends, as much as you loved them, to really talk with Sebastian about things you really couldn’t say in your tiny little village. You talked about why you really left your old life behind to start over in a town so small no one really knows about it, and he opened up to you about his troubled family life. By the end of the conversation, your dislike for Demetrius grew stronger. 

As the cool crisp air chilled further and conversation slowed naturally, you began to really focus on the sounds of the city. You were intrigued to hear the faint thumping of music coming from what should be an abandoned Joja Co warehouse. Outside the door, a big man was standing by, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watched any passersby.  

“Wanna check it out?” Sebastian asked you, matching your curiosity. You nodded, and he led you over to the door. You assumed the big man was eyeing you down as you approached, if his eyes weren’t obscured by black sunglasses. You wondered how he even saw anything, wearing sunglasses at night. 

“Password?” the man said gruffly. Sebastian made a point of briefly checking his surroundings before leaning in and whispering “midnight serenade”. The bouncer rapped on the door twice before stepping to the side, allowing whoever was on the other side to open it for them.  

“How did you-?” you asked. Sebastian just shrugged and gave you a mischievous grin. 

“Lucky guess,” he said. Inside the warehouse, they were immediately enveloped in a world of dimly lit ambiance and pulsating music. There was a surprising number of people, some of which were very engaged with the party lifestyle. Sebastian led you to a corner of the warehouse that was less crowded and invited you to dance with him. You had two left feet, but that didn’t stop you from accepting his proposal. The two of you laughed as you allowed the pulse of the music to fill your veins, fueling your movements. For the first time in a long time, you felt uninhibited, and you wondered how long the feeling would last.  

Yoba, it seemed, had other plans.  

The party was rushed by the ZPD, or Zuzu Police Department. Apparently, Joja Co did not appreciate occupants in its unused warehouse, even if they had no plans to do anything with it.  

With hearts pounding and adrenaline rushing through your veins, you find yourselves swept up in the chaos, frantically weaving your way through the crowd as you try to evade the authorities. You swiftly exit the warehouse through a side door and race through dimly lit alleyways to get as far away from there as possible. 

You’re still laughing when you finally reach Sebastian’s motorcycle, still parked in front of the sushi restaurant, now long closed.  

When you finally reach your farm, you ask him if he wants to spend the night, and it makes your heart flutter when he doesn’t hesitate to say yes.  

You get inside, and you both collapse on your sofa, tired from the day’s events. You instruct Sebastian to pick out a movie to play on your old box television while you toss some wood into the fireplace and get it lit, quickly returning to cozy up to his side.  

As the movie plays, and the fire crackles in the background, he lets his fingers trace idly along your arms, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface of your flesh. You nuzzle into him, and a gasp escapes your lips as his hand roams upwards, caressing your neck and threading through your hair. You can barely concentrate on the movie as Sebastian lightly scratches your head, and you grasp at his shirt when those slender fingers of his wrap around a lock of your hair and gently tug. He pulls your head back and exposes your open mouth to him, and with the movie now forgotten in the back, his tongue is sliding against your own. He brings his other hand up to cup your face, and a heat blooms deep within you. You maneuver your body until you’re straddling his hips, and with his hands now free he uses them to slide up your dress until they rest on your hips, his thumbs massaging in slow circles.  

The moment you pull away from him to catch your breath, Sebastian looks at you with lust in his half-lidded eyes.  

“How far do you want to take this, tonight?” he asks you, his voice low and full of desire. You blush and shy away from his gaze, now noticing the abundantly clear hardness forming underneath you. You bite your lip and slowly roll your hips against his, relishing in the way Sebastian inhales sharply at your motion.  

“Well,” you begin to say, “I’ve never done this sort of stuff before...Maybe you can show me what to do?” Sebastian groans when he hears you say that, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on a spot that made you feel ticklish. He grips you harder as you writhe around on his lap, arching your back so your chest presses against his. He detaches himself from your neck just long enough to pull your dress up and over your head, and he takes a moment to admire your beauty. You felt self-conscious under his gaze, so you instinctively moved to cover your chest with your arms, but his grip on your wrist halts your movements.  

“Don’t hide yourself from me, princess,” he commands, his authoritative tone making you drop your arms. You allow him to unclasp your bra, spilling your breasts out. He grabs them with both hands and begins to massage them while pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. You’re moaning at his touch, and he watches you with amazement. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he asks, leaning forward to place a kiss on your chest. He grinds his erection into you with his words.  

“You’re so, so perfect, baby,” he says between kisses. You squirm delightfully with his praise, needing it more than life. You realize that all you want to do is make Sebastian proud as you bring your hands up to card your fingers through his soft, dark hair. He looks up at you with a soft look before taking your lips in his own, releasing your nipples to grab your thighs and reposition you with your back on the couch. His fingers hook under the waistline of your panties, and he fervently removes them.  

Sebastian pulls away from you to stare at your fully exposed body, your face flushed and chest heaving as you pant for air. Your legs are spread with him in between them, one dangling off the couch, and he takes one of his fingers and drags it slowly along your slit. 

“Shit,” he hisses, bringing it up to his mouth to taste. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” 

“Is that good?” you ask shyly, and he chuckles. 

“Oh, sweet girl, yes. You’re so good for me,” he coos. His words of affirmation are so important to you, your hips twitch upwards in response. You spread your legs wider, allowing him to get a better look. 

“I want you to stick a finger inside, can you do that for me?” he instructs. You nod, sliding your hands down your body and using your left hand, you spread your lower lips wide. With your right middle finger, you tease at your entrance and push inwards, gasping lightly as you curl upwards.  

“I want to hear you, baby girl,” Sebastian says. You begin to whine as you pump your finger in and out of you at a slow pace; he doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, pulling them off his body leaving him in only a t-shirt and boxers. He finally releases his hardened cock from its pitched tent, its tip dribbling a small amount of precum. He wraps his hand around his member and begins to masturbate, nearly choking on his words as he manages to sputter out, “p-put another finger in.”  

You do as you’re told, slipping in your ring finger, while using the digits on your left hand to rub your clit in circles. You feel pressure building up inside you, like a thread waiting to snap, the heat in your body feeling as though you were set aflame. You’re rubbing on a spot inside that has you seeing stars and feeling high. You chase that feeling, hoping Sebastian knows how hard you’re trying for him, and soon that thread finally snaps with your climax as you cry out your performance.  

“Good girl,” he says with a predatory tone, and when you pull your fingers out of your twitching vagina, he’s lining himself up at your entrance. He grabs your wrist and makes sure you’re paying attention as he cleans your release off your appendages. He’s pushing into you as he licks you at the same time, the lewdness of it all causing your already flushed cheeks to deepen in color; you felt hot, everywhere, and the overstimulation of your senses was causing your peak to rapidly build back up. Sebastian clutches one of your breasts with his free hand like you might slip away if he doesn’t keep hold of you. 

“Can you cum again for me, sweetheart?” he asks once he releases your fingers with a wet pop! You whimper as you shake your head. 

“I-I don’t know if I can, Seb,” you manage. Sebastian flashes one of his crooked, toothy grins that made you fall for him.  

“Aw, course you can, sweetheart. I'll get you there,” he purrs, and he cradles your head while leaning down to slip his tongue in between your parted lips. He’s massaging the muscle against your own in tune with his thrusts, and the hand playing with your boob now grips onto your fleshy hip. You’ve never felt closer to Sebastian, but still, it’s not enough. You need him deeper; you need him to never leave your side again. 

This time, your orgasm crashes down like a wave, an ecstasy like you’ve never felt flooding your whole body. You tremble and shake against him as all you can do is whimper into his mouth. He swallows up every last sound, his own moans better than any song he and Sam could produce. It doesn’t take long for him to follow, and he pulls out to finish on your chest. He rests for a moment, catching his breath. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he finally says. 

“I’ll grab a towel, get you cleaned up,” he’d been to your house countless times with Sam and Abigail, so he was quite familiar with the layout already. It didn’t take long for him to return with a rag, but it was enough time for you to doze off. Sebastian looked down at you fondly, and cleaned you up slowly, admiring his handiwork. When he was satisfied, he grabbed a blanket from your bedroom and crawled into the sofa behind you, draping an arm over your waist and holding you through the night. 

[laurasimonsdaughter]

is there any aromantic themed folklore stories?

I think that very much depends on your personal definition. Of course there are plenty of folktales that do not include romance, but for me that usually isn't quite enough to consider them aromantic. For me the folk- and fairy tales that feel the most aromantic to me, are the ones where the plot makes me expect there will be a love interest along the way or a wedding at the end, but instead there is neither.

Here are the ones I've taken a personal liking to so far:

The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces

Source: Cape Verdian folktale, collected by E. Parsons from Antonio Soares Rosa in 1916-1917.

Content warnings: princess-shaming.

Character I read as aro: The hero.

Why: He answers a royal proclamation that states that whoever is able to find out how the princess wears out seven pairs of shoes every night can marry her and have half the kingdom. When he accomplishes this, however, he declines the marriage and returns home to build his mother a new house.

Read it: Full text online.

How The Devil Married Three Sisters

Source: Italian folktale, published by Widter and Wolf in 1866.

Content warnings: fairy tale violence, abusive spouse.

Character I read as aro: The youngest of the three sisters.

Why: While the first sister is pleased by her handsome suitor (the devil) and the second sister is also described as "wooed and won" by him, the third agrees to marriage only because he is rich. She proceeds to save her sisters, outsmarts the devil, and they all get away.

Read it: Full text online.

David Cotterson

Source: Danish fairy tale, collected by Jens Kamp, published in 1879.

Content warning: suicide contemplation, fairy tale violence.

Character I read as aro: The hero, David Cotterson.

Why: His biggest desire is to become a sailor and see the world. In his biggest adventure he defeats a seductive witch, saves a prince who has been cursed to be a dog. He then decided what he wants most of all is to got home to his loving parents, which he does.

Read it: Offline in this book, or my summary online.

The Squire’s Bride

Source: Norwegian folktale, collected by Asbjørnsen and Moe, published 1841-1844.

Content warning: attempted arranged marriage, attempted kidnapping.

Character I read as aro: The heroine, a farmers daughter.

Why: She's being courted by an old, rich squire. She rejects him, not for a better (kinder, younger) suitor, but simply because she doesn't want him. He doesn't back down so she humiliates him to teach him a lesson.

Read it: Full text online.

The Three Brothers

Source: German folktale, collected by the brothers Grimm, published 1857.

Content warning: ends with natural death.

Characters I read as aro: The protagonists, three brothers.

Why: Their father tasks them to learn a trade to show who deserves to inherit their family home. They become a master barber, blacksmith and swordsman, and the third inherits the house. But because they love each other so much they decide to share the house. They live happily and grow old together, after which all three die close together and are laid in the same grave.

Read it: Full text online.

Diarmaid and Grainne

Source: Celtic legend, Scottish variant collected by H. MacLean in 1859, from Alexander Macalister.

Content warning: tragedy, coercion, murder of protagonist.

Character I read as aro: The warrior Diarmaid.

Why: He has a love spot on his face, which he keeps hidden to prevent women from falling in love with him. Grainne (who is married to his lord Fionn) sees it and falls for him, but he refuses to go with her until she outsmarts him and places him under obligation to do so. He goes with her but they live in a house with separate beds. Grainne betrays Diarmaid for yet another man and Diarmaid ends up being killed by Fionn before he realises that Diarmaid has never touched his wife.

Read it: Full text online.

Slawa

Source: Romanian fairy tale, found in a German collection from 1977, sadly unsourced.

Content warning: attempted kidnapping, fairy tale violence.

Character I read as aro: The heroine, Slawa

Why: She is a poor young woman so beautiful that the cruel tsar wants to marry her. She keeps refusing and he gets violent, so she resorts to defeating him with magic (which she has because she was once a doll brought to life through the love of her parents), so she is free to go see the world.

Read it: You can download my translation here.

King Bear

Source: Danish folktale, collected by Jens Kamp, published in 1879.

Content warning: animal death.

Character I read as aro: One of the two protagonists, the eldest of two brothers.

Why: The older brother doesn't fully understand why his younger brother has fallen in love with an imprisoned princess, but helps him win her hand anyway. He stays happily at the royal court, but never marries himself.

Read it: Offline in this book.

And just because I still love them, I did write two literary fairy tales with aro protagonists myself some years ago:

The Man and the Mermaid, in which a man meets a mermaid after losing the woman he thought he wanted to marry.

The River Sprite, in which a woman helps a river sprite who is determined to repay her.

Hope there's something on this list that makes you happy!