#honey heat

[kissvamps]

honey heat: prologue

pairing: riri williams x black!oc

synopsis: when riri finds a young woman sleeping under her mother’s pecan tree during a bad thunderstorm, she isn’t expecting to get used to seeing the stranger’s face. but when the storm clears up unusually fast and the crops in her mother’s farm bounce back from the mid-june heatwave, riri can’t help but wonder about the pretty stranger with an odd taste for honey.

special dt to @clinicallykrazy, thee biggest evangeline enthusiast HAPPY BIRTH MONTH SISTER

series warnings: gay bitches from like the late 1800s early 1900s??, cowboy!riri, they live on a farm but they also have some horses so there’s a little ranch area too, nymph!oc (i love earth fairy lore, eve is my cutie patootie), lesbian yearning, eve is a little bit obsessive ngl, interesting relationnships with god/religion, death but it’s not anybody deserving of love or it’s on accident lmao, magical woo woo shit, FAWK time, tank tops are a thing cuz it’s essential for cowboy butch riri, racial tensions but trust they get handled, eve is a bit unhinged but who isn’t?

a/n: ntm on these long ass sentences and paragraphs cuz i wrote this in creative writing class and the formatting i used was different but i hope yall enjoy!!

—

Evangeline wasn’t stupid, she was far from it. She knew why her mother urged her not to sing, not to tell the garden of her perils, not to rejoice in the nearby river. Nature laid in the palm of her hand. She was terribly familiar with it, the way the sun treasured her skin, the way the trees hung off her every word. Her mother called it an illness but Evangeline knew what it was. Much more than a gift, this was ethereal. Evangeline had god in her.

It was the easiest to resonate with the life around her with song. They loved her song, the way god spilled from her lips like honey. The trees swayed gleefully and the wind whistled a supporting melody while the garden animals flattered her with their charmed chatter. The young woman sang and sang, ‘til night fell sometimes. The moon would greet her just as enthusiastically as the sun, setting a fairy glow over her. This was only when it was good, when god was good, when Evangeline felt good.

Her mother, Rosemary, had strong reason for casing her daughter in these emotional bubbles. As a baby, her cries had started endless thunderstorms. Always knocking down the distant power lines of cities and unearthing the beloved trees, Earth was eager to bow to Evangeline, to correspond with her mood. Evangeline, Earth, and God were all one, and this was simply the way things worked.

The worst it’s ever been was Evangeline’s first heartbreak; her best friend, Kiara, moved away to a small country where her father could find better work. The Earth ate away at itself, tearing the surrounding forestry apart, stripping the sky of any light because why should anyone see light in such a dark hour in Evangeline’s life? Evangeline split the Earth’s ground as lightning tore through the darkened sky.

Thunder roared over the sound of the little girl crying for her friend, the only other girl her age for miles, the only friend she had that didn’t despise her for the way god flowed from her eyes. Her mother and father struggled to console the little girl, bursting with lightning shaped-scars and sobs that coincided with the booming of thunder. No matter how tight they held her she kept crying.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad. Especially not to Evangeline, she loved being so close to nature, able to hear the inquiries of rose bushes as if they were her own thoughts, having the love of sun radiate in her heart, it was dream-like for her. Her mother, Rosemary, worried deeply for her daughter. When she was much younger, Rosemary witnessed her mother battle the ‘illness’ that swallowed Evangeline whole.

Over and over again, Rosemary watched her mother struggle to keep the lightning in her fingertips, to the ocean coasting over her emotions. By the time Rosemary was Evangeline’s age, moonlight was already starting to favor her presence, all while her mother fought to distinguish herself from her Earth, from her God. Nothing helped and by the time she passed her death brought a wave of grief to her Earth and anger to her God.

Plenty of the shrubs and old growth trees behind the house fell over in a way that would suggest they uprooted themselves, the wind blew a mournful hymn and the animals were scarce besides the few that fell so ill they suffered a fate similar to Rosemary’s mother. Rosemary had learned to suppress it, feed her Earth laughter and joy every few weeks and pray that her God didn’t find her sorrows or her rage.

Rosemary kept her Earth fed and her God sedated almost always. She couldn’t help hurting, though. As much as nature loved to cater to her, she was still human, still feeling. Her mother’s death almost rocked the cradle too hard, just a few weeks before Evangeline was born. Rosemary tried to travel where her Earth’s grief couldn’t touch her but she was surrounded. Isaiah was good though, he was an anchor through all that storming pain and heartache.

He was a good man, a good father to Evangeline, too, but still she felt he didn’t fit into her view of life. Isaiah wasn’t hard to look at, he was somewhat funny, and well-skilled with mechanics and botany, subjects Rosemary loved dearly. But Isaiah disrupted the calm she worked so hard to give her Earth and the tranquility she fed her God.

Sometimes she’d just look at him and frown, hear him speak and be beyond irritated with his existence. It wasn’t any help that Evangeline favored her more, Isaiah always second place. It wasn’t like he was bad to either of them, Rosemary just quietly wished he’d go away and Evangeline heard those whispers.

Her mother was always too busy trying to keep her God comatose that she had no clue their Earths talked to one another. One of many factors of why Evangeline favored her mother. When her mother slept at night after another day numbing her God, her Earth would reiterate some of those secrets to an Evangeline much too awake to turn her own mother’s Earth away.

Rosemary’s Earth bustled through the leaves of the shrubs next to Evangeline’s bedroom window and the new moon would cast a menacing shadow on the energetic hummingbirds that, much like Evangeline, were too full of life to sleep tonight.

And these hummingbirds chirped out the thoughts Rosemary was too scared to let her Earth hear, let her God know of. But they knew better than Rosemary did. She kept them too starved to do anything but tell, and tell they did. Evangeline’s Earth was much too connected to her to be restrained.

The wind howled as the young oak tree, barely as old as Evangeline that day, reached its branches into her parent’s bedroom and inched further and further until the branches snagged on kin. Her mother slept a restless sleep as the beloved oak tree turned Isiah into an ornament. Evangeline didn’t mean to let the branches grow that far, she didn’t even intend for her Earth to react to her mother’s secrets.

She told this to her mother when she woke, uncharacteristically distraught at the news, and Rosemary only had words of contempt for the young fae.

“Always. It’s always unintentionally. That’s your problem, you never mean to cause thunder showers, you never mean to put your father in an early grave because you never meant to do anything. You let your Earth siphon your emotions right from your heart, you can’t control it. You never could.” Her mother ranted to her with conflicting tears running down her face.

Evangeline’s Earth sent two twin flashes or lightning at her mother’s harshness.

“It wasn’t even on purpose! And you’re acting like you’re gonna miss him, like you could even stand to look at him. You’ll forget what he looks like by next week, momma!”

The truth in Evangeline’s worlds shook Rosemary so deeply a harrowing symphony of a storm began outside. The lights shut off barely a moment later. “Just because I don’t like him doesn’t mean you gotta send him to kingdom come.” Rosemary’s voice broke as she whispered to her daughter in the dark.

“You still saying that like I did it, like I did it on purpose, like I wanted it to happen.” Evangeline spat out, tears of her own welling in her eyes as the storm outside worsened, tree limbs loudly knocking on the windows in a manner that suggested they were trying to check on the two women.

“Just cuz you can’t stand the love I have for my power doesn’t mean you gotta blame me for everything my powers do.” The young fae huffed angrily at her mother. All this upset over a man her mother could hardly stand being in a room with, it was unbelievable to Evangeline.

“I didn’t love him like a wife does, I hardly liked him to be truthful, but he made me feel like I could be normal, like if I ignored my God enough, kept my earth happy, it’d be just like I was normal.” Rosemary spoke so softly her daughter was unsure of whether or not she meant to say it outloud. The confession brought a swirl of understanding and pain to Evangeline’s chest. It was common for the younger woman to try and socialize, make a friend, or even just enjoy a book and be hit with the reminder that felt like a tidal wave; she wasn’t normal. Never would be.

She considered herself lucky compared to her mother, Rosemary. She’d cried away her contempt for herself, her Earth, her god, when she was still little. Rosemary had this hatred festering for herself for decades. Marrying Isaiah for the sake of trying to gain a form of normalcy couldn’t have been helpful.

“We’re normal to us, they normal to themselves. Don’t hate yourself for that, it won’t make you any less earthly.” Evangeline spoke warmly to her mother, hugging her to try and provide some comfort to a sobbing Rosemary. The two sat there crying for a while, the storm outside lightening to a soft drizzle, the trees swaying as Rosemary’s sobs lessened. By the time the sun returned the mother and daughter were tiptoeing around a question that needed an answer, and soon.

“What’re we gonna do with him, momma? He might start stinking up the house soon.”

Isaiah’s body was disposed of in the typical way. Incineration had become increasingly common amongst people as decades passed and Rosemary and her daughter figured it would make answering any questions easier. Especially those asked by figures that were too nosy and emboldened by their badges to stick their nose in things they couldn’t begin to comprehend. Once Isaiah was cremated the two decided to put him in a deep blue urn.

Evangeline giggled, “You know this was one of his least favorite colors?” Her mother dropped her jaw at the news in disbelief.

“You let me pick out that urn, Evie, why you ain’t tell me?” The younger woman simply shrugged and played innocent, twirling one of her braids around her finger, “I mean, you the one that married him.”

Rosemary rolled her eyes at her daughter’s antics. Her father had just passed, partially due to her own emotions, and here she was having a laugh about letting her mother stick him in an urn of his most hated color. She smiled after a while though, seeing the joy and brightness in her daughter’s smile. Rosemary much preferred her daughter’s mirthful attitude than the tears that fell from her eyes like water from a broken dam.

—

Evangeline and her mother began to return to normal, a better normal, actually. Rosemary would help Evangeline with the garden and she taught her mother how to connect with her own earth and her god, how not to let them rule her. “I love my earth and my god, you fear yours. That’s the difference.” She explained to her mother with an understanding smile on her face.

Just as her mother began to finally make peace with her earth, she left. Left Evangeline.

—

Rosemary had just begun to find peace in her Earth, truly understand her God, and then she passed. Barely a year after Isaiah, Rosemary left her daughter all alone with her Earth and her god. Evangeline cried and screamed so much the first few days after, the rural area she lived in was practically washed away by the downpour of tears her Earth shed and the furious howls of her god blowing away any and everything besides for the little home housing a young woman too tired to be meek. Even if she wanted to, Evangeline couldn’t stop her Earth from pulling itself apart and her god lashing out at whatever it saw fit. The same way she was connected to her god and her earth, they were connected to her.

Whenever her god tore trees up by their roots, Evangeline would have to weep. Evangeline and her only companions, her Earth and her god, grieved together like that just long enough for Evangeline to have cried herself sick. All her screaming sobs only strained her voice until it was no more than a whisper. Evangeline opened the door of the house pleadin for the sunshine to hold her since her mother could no longer wrap her arms around her. There was an unusual briskness to the air, it was well into late summer, the sticky humidity of July should’ve been clinging to her skin. Her grief was all around her, suffocating her with the strange chill in the air and the knee-high flood water caused by her own grief.

Dragging her feet, Evangeline swayed eerily back and forth as she trudged forward. The young woman had no destination in mind but she couldn’t keep this up, screaming herself sick in the home that held every single memory she’d ever have of her mother. It wasn’t a safe place for her to grieve. And even if it was safe, she didn’t want to grieve.

Evangeline trekked on through the flooded valley, barefoot and stumbling over herself when her mind replayed particularly wondrous memories with her mother. It hit her that was an orphan, a motherless child. Though she was an adult, she was still so young, she needed the guidance of her mother, the protection and safety of her love. Evangeline felt like nothing she cared for could stick around. Not the pet squirrel she had when she was five, not the pet rock she adored when she was 10, not her best friend when she was 13, not her mother that taught her so much and learned from Evangeline as well.

A dull ache settled firmly in the center of Evangeline’s chest as it began storming again. The fear and despair rolling over her distorted her perception so bad she wasn’t even sure if all this storming was her doing. She didn’t feel strong enough to put a could in the sky, let alone bring about a downpour like this. Evangeline was so far from that little house she and her family lived in, that little shoebox full of life and love, it was ages away now. Her lips would be cracked if not for the rain, and for the first time in her life, she had bags under her eyes and a dullness to her brown skin. All the cold, wet weather was gonna get her sick. The girl didn’t even get allergies but she could feel an unfamiliar itch at the back of her throat and the congestion in her sinuses. Barefoot, sick, and too far from home, Evangeline fell dizzy as the dread spilled down on her in sharp, icy rain drops.

—

Evangeline found herself wrapped up in a quilt. She could tell it was handmade from the stitches, for a moment she’d mistaken it for a new project her mother was working on. It felt like vines of ivy were twisting around her heart when she remembered that wasn’t possible, that her mother was gone. The reminder also brought an intense sense of fear to the young fae. She’d wandered away from home trying to negate some of the overwhelming burden of her own grief. Evangeline had no clue where she was and was scared to find out. This was no time of guaranteed safety for women like her, there hadn't been a time like that in this country, ever.

Another realization; she was in new clothes. These clothes were made for someone quite a bit shorter than she was. The shirt she had on had loose sleeves that stopped just shy of her wrists and the waist was wide, she guessed they were old maternity clothes. Her pants fit loose as well, a bit tight around her waist and stopping well above her ankles. Evangeline was more than grateful though. No one who intended to harm her would give the clothes off their back and a warm bed in their house.

Evangeline was still a bit scared but reminded herself there was no need to be. If there was true danger here, her Earth would’ve stretched blossoming tendrils of vegetation to tickle her ear and pull her out of her slumber to observe the danger. Her Earth and her god were just parts of her but her mother knew well enough to teach her daughter how to protect herself with this gift.

Quietly easing out of the comfort of the mattress, Evangeline crept out of the room to meet whoever was kind enough to save her from her own grief. A small frown began to form on the young woman’s face as she tiptoed around the cozy house, only to find it was currently empty.

Briefly, Evangeline pondered the possibility of her own abilities saving her from that storm but she quickly dismissed it. Someone, multiple someones, lived here. And a small animal, judging by the two little bowls just outside the kitchen. Creeping towards the front door, Evangeline took in a deep breath to calm herself again.

—

Evangeline’s heart was still heavy beyond words with the loss of her mother but the hot, humid air of late July in the south was refreshing, comforting.

Almost immediately after stepping outside, her eyes found someone plucking some ripe fruits from a tree that was much, much older than Evangeline. The tree also looked to be much older than the person gathering its fruit. She was young, Evangeline’s powers could actually tell her how old exactly, but she figured she shouldn’t do that to the stranger that’d been kind enough to take her in.

The stranger had rich brown skin just a few shades lighter than the lively dark brown bark of the fruit tree she busied herself with. Her shirt was the same material as Evangeline’s but the sizing was much different, the same going for the stranger’s pants, which were rolled up to her calves. The stranger had her coily hair pulled away from her face in cornrows that tickled her shoulders.

Evangeline walked away from the cover of the house and closer to the farming stranger, wanting to get a better look at her. Evangeline walked further from the cover of the house and closer to the farming stranger to get a better look at her face, which was beautiful from what Evangeline could see so far. Brown eyes framed with dark lashes, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, a wide nose and full lips. She reminded Evangeline of a painting she’d been obsessed with when she was little.

“They don’t say hello where you from?”

The sudden speech shocked the young fae. For a moment, she thought she heard it in her head. When the stranger fully turned her face to Evangeline, and the sounds of fruit being plopped gently into a weaved basket stopped, she realized the speech was indeed real. This stranger wasn’t some figment of her imagination.

“Sorry, I’m Evangeline. You the one I should be thanking?” Evangeline kept her eyes on the leaves just above the young woman’s head, preferring that over direct eye contact. She found direct eye contact to be strange most times, especially with strangers.

“You can thank my mama when she get back from the market, I’m just the one who took you out that rain. Well, me and June.” The stranger grinned a little at the end of her sentence as she returned to her tedious task, her eyes set on something off in the distance.

Turning around to see what had grabbed the kind stranger’s attention, Evangeline saw an adorable puppy with sandy fur and umber patches running towards her. She giggled as the small dog pawed at her leg, whining for the new stranger to pick them up.

“What’s your name?” Evangeline questioned the young woman as she picked up the energetic puppy. June immediately began yipping as the fae scratched under her chin.

“Mamma named me Amary, something to do with them flowers she love so bad.”

Amary. Amary. Amary. Amary. Evangeline let the name roll around in her head, making an effort to stick Amary’s name to her face. She knew exactly what flower Amary was talking about, too. A beautiful winter flower that was red.

“Amary like Amaryllis?” Again, Evangeline asked Amary a question. This time, the friendly stranger climbed down the wooden ladder with the basket full of fruit up against her hip, chuckling at Evangeline’s curiosity.

“You a bit nosey, huh?” Amary joked with the other young woman while guiding her to the little table set up on the porch of the house. “Now, you wanna help me pit these plums and tell me where you from while we wait for my mama to get back?”

Evangeline smiled softly as she took in the scenery of the place, felt the livelihood of nature, the warmth of this stranger’s actions. She gave Amary a nod as she headed to sit down at the table with her. Evangeline and her Earth felt a bit of peace, her God full of hope.

Maybe, just for a while, she could grow here.

[nfcomics]

Heat Seeker: A Gun Honey Series no.1 • 2nd Pt • cover art • Artgerm [Aug 2023]

[pareidolla]

hunted? for the thingy thing ? ive liked your thoughts about him so far :))

ohh hunted, the certified darling. i really like him a lot, and i find it surprising he was the most unpopular voice until broken overtook him and bumped up to the second place. i suppose the reason for this is that he's more "forgettable" than actively despised, as i've only ever heard one person express their disdain for him. i'm hoping pristine cut shines more of a spotlight on him and beast cos they really deserve it!

speaking of bumping up, i really think once i sit down and begin studying his character properly he'll officially be one of my favorite voices. he's darling tier right now, yes, but i feel like i don't quite grasp understand his character yet. theres many reasons i want to though! first, the voice johnny sims provided him is so soft and lovely, one of my favorites. aecond, i'm so interested in his place within the long quiet and tbe narrative. third, the wild routes my beloved.

and listen, i would never hurt him⸻bro deserves to sit on his farm petting all his sheep⸻but wild? his parallels with opportunist??? i'm biting, i'm biting, i'm BITING-

[fortheharbingers]

after learning about your crushes on certain fictional figures, narumi asks you to show him (or read him) one of those fics you seem to enjoy reading and writing

his plan is simple. he'll pay a close attention to any specific motif, kink etc in the said kink and make sure he fucks better than that next time so you'll never be resorting for the fictional stuff ever again

he doesnt account for the probability of a mpreg fic...

[frownyalfred]

Bruce, pregnant 8 weeks after the twins are born; I’m going to murder you Clark

He just wanted to be Batman again for ten minutes. Is that too much to ask, Clark???

[dirtyriver]

Heat Seeker: Combustion #1, Stadium Comics variant cover by Nuno Pereira

Homage to the cover of Veronica #19, February 1992, by Dan Parent (pencils) and Henry Scarpelli (inks)

[macherielaila]

[foundynnel]

First time making a Sunday dinner

[xlmibby]

a new chapter of my xiaolumi fic is now on ao3! this time it's a very summer-like beach date (with a bit of heated emotions that feel almost like roller coaster) so i hope the story will melt your heart away 🤭 please enjoy it!!! 🥰

[bitchfitch]

I know it's more my vibe to post extremely unhelpful recipes but I'm proud of how this one looks

[citricjoy]

i think a lot about the kind of meals benson cooks for himself and randy once they’ve been running long enough to settle down

[glitch-after-dark]

One good thing. Looks like I'd recently uploaded my backup of Sweet Honey. So here's a glimpse of it. The Merformers Rodiclash is being re-written due to my computer stopping.

In Tarn, especially in the pit, dominance fights–had–still occurred. They'd long been considered undesirable and uncivilized in Autobot cities. The Autobots generally had a patch blocking the dominance coding if it existed in them. Tarnians never bothered. It was simply part of the every day for them and added a pleasant thrill to any cycle. 

Sunstreaker craved it.

They’d left Tarn young, after only a handful of heats, most spent alone unable to find someone up to Sunstreaker’s standards, but those that had been spent with a partner left long and lingering memories. Sunstreaker was incredibly picky and vicious during his time in Tarn, and instead of getting side eyed, it made him desirable. He’d savored the admiration and his “suitors” coming to call when he made it known he was “open”. 

The fights preceding satisfying his heat were a necessity to settle his coding. He needed his potential partner to prove themself.

Only the best, the ones who proved themselves against him and in the right ways could be allowed the chance to breed him.

It was a concept that would, and did the one time he'd voiced it, shock and appall the Autobots. Though not enough to stop all Autobot suitors for long.

A few had tried to court him the Autobot way only to be met with cool dismissal. A couple had tried the Tarnian way, and Sunstreaker had perked up but been disappointed and therefore even more vicious. He was one of the best hand to hand fighters in the Autobots (and Ironhide and Jazz were disappointingly uninterested), and his suitors had felt the brunt of his unsatisfied lust, which burst into rage.

Only once did he accept an Autobot courtship, tried to grit his teeth, and bear it after several unsatisfied cycles. He liked Bluestreak. They were friends, and it was a friendly offer with no strings. 

It had also been incredibly unsatisfying, and his coding refused to settle only to get more and more wound up and aggressive.

Blue, being the saint he was, had taken Sunstreaker's frustration driven insults about his ability to spike and throwing him out–literally–from the berthroom better than he should have. Something Sunstreaker had actually tried to apologize for after it had broken and he’d been able to think clearly.

He hadn’t tried again.

[gristlegrinder]

besties my oven is broken AGAIN

[givehimthemedicine]

what if El's never seen anyone sick before so when Will gets a cold and looks a bit off kilter and sweaty she thinks he's possessed again and launches into full s2 exorcism mode about it

[gonzodangerfeels]

Me: no really if you missed even one birth control pill you better double check you aren't pregnant.

[mon-ster-chen]

💫 i would be the heating pad on his shoulder🫠❣️