#it is time once again for my periodic reblog of this post

[shomixremix]

THE ALTAR OF ADORATION ♥︎

recently i've been getting more and more into my zhongli brainrot (even though he's been one of my fav characters since forever lol) so here you all go!!

oh also tysm for over 1k notes, 100+ reblogs and 50 new followers!! you guys are the best <3 i really didn't expect that kind of support on my last post - turns out everyone likes some dragon men!! so i decided to write some more, here you lovelies go!!

tags: Zhongli, female! reader, dragon! zhongli, religious themes, sacrificial offering, smut, fluff, mating, breeding, creampie, monsterfucking

-> you have been chosen as a sacrifice to the great geo lord rex lapis, during a period where everyone believed he was mad at mortals. scared for your life and trembling, you now realize there was another problem troubling lord morax.

reqs open ���︎ | minors DNI

great lord rex lapis roamed the earths and heavens for centuries, ruling the land of geo and its people through the thick and thin. they were very devoted followers, obeying his every wish.

however, the height of his reign has long passed, and people simply stopped caring about their archon. until recently.

crops began to wither, mines dried out, contracts were getting broken left and right - rex lapis has had enough of their careless behavior. his people have disappointed him, and this was a sign of his fury. if something wasn't to change, he would abandon them completely.

the people of liyue decided to recommit to their religion, prepared to offer the geo lord a sacrifice of any kind, just so he'd once again bless them. you, even though born in a time where people lost their respect for the geo lord, have always been a devoted follower, praying to him each day and leaving flowers and beautiful crystals under his statue of the seven.

already being a believer of the geo archon, you were chosen as the ceremonial sacrifice.

while nobody knew where rex lapis resided, the site of the ceremony was chosen to be on mt. hulao. as the crowds of people gathered from all over liyue around the lake on the top of the mountain, you stood in front of them, shaking. while you were a follower of morax, you didn't feel it was right to die for the sins of your people.

"it's time to pay our sacrifise!" yelled one of the townsfolk, holding your wrist in an iron grip as he he slit your palm with a sharp knife. you screamed out in pain as maroon blood dripped down your hand. the man who slit your hand placed a valuable cor lapis stone in it, watching as the orange stone quickly became stained with your red blood.

you held your breath as they placed you on the highest point of the mountain and pushed you off, chanting morax's name over and over.

falling seemed to last centuries, even though it was just seconds. you waited and waited for your body to hit the ground, tightening your hold on the cor lapis and in your head praying:

"rex lapis, if you're here, if you hear my prayer, please, i beg you, save me!"

suddenly, your feel onto something, tightly closing your eyes. was this... death?

you open your eyes and realize this wasn't any kind of afterlife - in fact, you were very much still alive, spread on top of the back of a large dragon. your mortality was confirmed by the sharp pain you still felt in your left hand.

"..r-rex l-lapis..?"

the dragon stayed quiet as you clutched his mane, holding on to him for dear life. he only let you get down once you were inside a large cave, seeming like it wasn't a part of the human world - no, this had to be an adepti realm.

an uneducated mortal maybe wouldn't be certain just who was standing between them, but you knew oh so very well. his goldenish brown scales, the big, honey-colored eyes and the tail which ended in a mosaic of clouds all gave him away. standing before you was the geo archon, the adeptus who saved your life even though you were a peace offering.

he stayed quiet, removing you from his back like it was nothing and moving to a completely different side of the cave, laying down on the cold ground with his back turned to you.

he was in no mood to talk, you knew, but you had to thank him for saving your life.

"lord morax..?"

he grumbled in response, steam coming out of his large nostrils.

"i cinserely thank you for saving my life... i was supposed to be a mere sacrifise, yet you still showed me mercy.. i.. just, thank you so much.."

the second the word "sacrifise" leaves your lips rex lapis perks up, turning to you with frantic eyes. he grabs your hand to inspect the still slightly bleeding cut, tearing a piece of your skirt to wrap around your wound as a bandage. morax tightly ties it, then quickly moves from you.

"it should stop the bleeding," he grumbled low, never turning to look at you, almost as if he was completely uninterested, "i will bring you to the villege tomorrow, little mortal. now sleep. your body needs rest"

how could you rest after such a traumatic experience? after almost having your life, all your hopes and dreams, unfairly thorn from you?

"no, i.. i can't return! they will all know that i failed, that i wasn't the sacrifise they all needed to save liyue from your punishment!"

morax huffs, his tail hitting the ground with a loud thump.

"then you can tell them all that i do not wish for a sacrifise. spilling innocent human blood is not only unecessary but also completely repulsive to me."

your eyes widen as he says this, your body instinctively moving a little closer to him: "you.. do not wish for a sacrifise, my lord? then how should we repay you for our sins? how can we ever make you forgive us for losing our faith in you..?"

rex lapis growls lowly, his body tightening like he was in some kind of discomfort or pain.

"the lack of my blessing isn't for the reasons your kind believes," he growled, "i'm not upset at you humans. now sleep." you knew well that that was an order, and an order coming from an archon must always be obeyed. yet, you didn't, scooting closer to him.

"the only thing to be upset about is that they sent you as the offering. how unfair it is to send one of my most devoted followers to die for my amusement.."

you hold your breath, afraid that he was actually considering killing you.

"i've recieved all the little treasures you leave out for me and have heard your every word. you're a persistant little one, aren't you?" even though you couldn't see him, you could feel the smirk on his face.

the knowledge that he has seen and heard how you worship him makes your heart thump loudly in your chest, a pool of pride and flusterness swirling in your belly.

suddenly, morax smells the air sharply, then started writhing on the ground in pain, cursing out a deep yet broken"fuck..!".

"are you in pain, my lord? can i do something to help?" you ask eagerly, wishing to help your saviour.

"move away!" he roared, steam coming out of his mouth. "go to sleep and stop talking to me when i ask, mortal!"

you frigtenedly to as told, laying down on the ground and turning away from him, squeezing your eyes shut. suddenly, you hear little muffled whines and cries coming from him, which immediately makes you look at him again.

his large head is completely flushed red, his lungs heaving up and down quickly. he panted out short little puffs of air, his eyes bloodshot ready and his body trembling slightly. you didn't know what was wrong with him, he acted like some kind of a wild animal in a rut-

"lord morax, are you.. in a rut..?" it was a shameful question to ask the archon, yet your curiosity got the better of you.

he huffed out, more and more in pain with every passing minute. "i haven't... hah... i haven't been in centuries... it's inevitable i go through it every couple of hundred years..."

morax groans, visibly in a lot of discomfort.

"and of course that when i'm in a rut they just have to send me a gorgeous woman as a sacrifice to worsen my state..."

your cheeks darken as he murmurs this, blood rushing to your head.

"how do i worsen your state..?"

"your arousal" he rasps, "i can smell it, little mortal. i can smell you, and it's torture. it pains every muscle in my body to resist you, but i have to; it's my duty"

your heart aches at his words.

"i can help" you breathe, unsure what you were even offering. his sharp eyes turn to you, piercing you with his gaze.

"no", his answer is short but stern, "i could kill you, i could harm you and leave you not remembering your own name. i cannot do that to my most devoted follower. not to you, y/n"

your heart stops, dropping to your feet.

"how do you know my name...?"

he groans as he explains: "i often wander around the mortal world in my human form, to feel closer to your kind... i have met you a couple of times during your prayer at the statue of the seven. i cannot use your pure body to breed when i know how much respect and hope you have in me. it would be betrayal to you, and you would never see me, nor my human form, the same"

"it pains me to see my archon in pain" you whisper as you get closer to the large dragon, your stomach stirring. you gently touch the scales down his back and feel how he shivers under your touches.

"i want... i want to help you, if i can... i want to help you through this.. you have helped me through the darkest points in my life, and even though i don't know who your human form is, i have a feeling i'm close to you even then... i just desire to help you, lord morax..."

"do you even understand what kind of help i need? what i will do to you if you allow me?"

you smile, running your hands through his shiny mane.

"yes, i understand. use me however you like, my lord."

his self control snaps, big paws pinning you down on the ground. he's panting like a dog as he nuzzles his head against your neck, tearing the rest of your skirt off. only left in a pair of underwear and a thin shirt, you tremble under the archon's touches.

"hm.. such a beautiful mortal..." he hums as he tears the rest of your cloth from your body, leaving you completely bare. you try to cover yourself with your arms, yet morax grabs them and pins them by your sides.

his large mouth comes in contact with your skin, licking, kissing and biting as he moved down. morax grazes your skin with his teeth, never biting down hard enough to draw blood from your veins. you had already done your sacrifice, more blood wasn't needed. his tounge moves from your neck to your exposed breast, swirling around your hard nipples, earning a little whimper from you.

then, he moves even lower, nipping at your stomach. he forces your tighs apart, burying his large head to your folds and forcing you to hold on to him by his horns. rex lapis tastes you eagerly, lapping up any slick your body oh so willingly gave him. you moaned and whined as he fucked you with his tounge, making you come almost instantly.

"ohhhh!! m-morax~ ahh..." you moan as he helps you through it, sharply tugging on your sensitive clit with his sharp teeth, always careful not to hurt you.

"celestia" he sighs into your slick folds, earning a tremble from you. "you taste devine, my dear. i haven't enjoyed such a sweet taste in centuries"

he shows you no mercy and continues to eat you out as if you were his last meal, one paw holding down your wrists and the other secured on your hips, not allowing you to move at all. after about three delicious highs he pulls from your frail body with his tounge, you start begging for the real thing. you knew his rut wouldn't be over unless he fucked you, and you were kinda hoping this torterous foreplay would be over soon...

"m-morax... please.." you whimper, squeezing your legs around his snout. he grumbles low, giving one final lick to your greedy pussy.

"i have to loosen you as much as possible so you could even try to take me. preperations can take up to days."

your eyes open wide and your mouth partens. you couldn't wait days to get him to fuck you, and you certainly didn't know how you'd survive days worth of eating out!

"but i cannot wait that long" he smirks, rubbing your outter tighs and ass. in one swift motion he flips you over so you were on your knees, face down and ass up. you feel his length rubbing up on you; even though you couldn't see him, your eyes went wide in shock. you felt how impossibly large he was, both in size and girth, almost being comparable to your legs.

but another thing surprises you - the head of his cock is poking at your tight entrance, but another thing is poking at your ass! you turn your head in shock, and he reassures you.

"i am different than a mortal, my dear"

you let out a loud scream of his name as he harshly thrusts both of his heavy cocks into you. he thrusts as far as he can, entering your cushy womb from how big he is and almost ripping your ass apart. you scream and cry and writhe yet he doesn't budge, letting you get used to him inside you for a few moments before he starts thrusting.

he starts moving without a warning, dragging you back on his cocks. you turn into a sobbing mess as each one of his thrusts so pleasantly tease your g-spot, bullying your tight walls.

"ahh.. ahhh! mphhh! mmphshs! m- mor... ah! ohhh!"

you cry and cry, not even knowing your own name out of so much pleasure. you feel like your holes are completely loose and yet, clamping down on him greedily. he tugs your head back by your hair, snuggling his nuzzle in your neck so you'd hear him better.

"shh, don't cry... you've asked me for this, little mortal. you asked to be fucked like this, hm? look at you, so pretty like this. so no need to cry, you will be fine. i allow you as much pleasure as you need. "

you couldn't stop yourself from coming, squirting your juices all over his cock. he watches this in amusement, fucking into you harder and faster. in one moment, he threw his head back in pleasure, making a loud roar.

"fuck, y/n..." he groaned as you hiccupped your sobs, finally giving a harsh, last thrust and stilling inside. you felt an impossible amount of warmth spread through your body as he filled you with seed, spilling a wave after wave of cum in your womb. he had filled you so much that it spilled from you, leaving you entirely breathless.

as soon as he's done he pulls out, letting you fall to the floor. he picks up your limp body, curling himself around you and cuddling you close.

"it's alright, my dear... you did perfect. you were just devine, and you've felt better than anything i've ever felt in all my years. rest, now. i will take care of the rest tomorrow."

your head hazy, your mind fuzzy with pleasure and your eyes heavy, you lay curled against him and finally get the much needed sleep.

the next morning, you wake up with a human, veined arm around your bare waist.

"there you are... you are too adorable in your sleep" a deep voice said from behind you, and you turned around, expecting to see the geo archon.

yet, you were faced with a man you knew all to well - the man you had deep feelings for ever since he first arrived in liyue harbour.

"mr. zhongli?!"

he hums out a laugh, tightening his hold on you.

"yes, if i'm correct, we've met in my human form a couple of times?"

you blush deeply, reminiscing on the few blissful times you talked to him. he was a very handsome, successful young man, with great wisdom and a clever mind - and you admired him very much, so much that you couldn't help but fall in love.

"you look dissapointed... are you not fond of me after finding out who i am?"

he asks, his gaze softening and looking almost saddened. you quickly reassure him:

"no, no, i'm not dissapointed! more like stunned.." you blush and he notices, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers.

"oh? why is that? i have always assumed we had a fairly good relationship, y/n. you have always been so nice to me"

"i.. i've had feelings for you for quite a while..." you say shyly, almost embarassed of the fact.

his lips curl into a genuinely happy smile, his arms pressing you closer to his bare chest.

"then everything turned out alright"

you smile, but everything suddenly dawns on you - that zhongli seemed to be okay with your feelings for him, that you almost died yesterday as a sacrifice, that zhongli is morax and most importantly, that oh, you fucked the geo archon, in his dragon form no less!

"am i pregnant now..?" you ask quietly, reminded that the act of a rut is mainly to breed and create off-spring. zhongli laughs at your question, leaving a quick peck on your forehead.

"no, most likely not. but you will be, in a few hundred years, once i have to go through this all over again" you almost choke on your own spit as he says this.

"but... i won't be alive in a few hundred years... you will have to find another to help you through this.."

as soon as you mention him sleeping with another woman his face turns into one of disgust, his strong arms gathering your entire body in his hold.

"as my mate, you will live as long as i do, and i'm immortal, my dear."

"your mate?!"

"yes. by helping me through my rut, you have become my mate. of course, only if that's what you wish" he says, pressing a loving kiss to your eyelid. "and do not worry, my dear, dragons mate for life"

he almost purrs into your warm skin, making a referance to what you said about him sleeping with another woman.

"...being your mate.." you sigh, cuddling into his chest.

"it's like what you humans call "relationship" except a stronger bond, sort of an unbreakable contract between the two of us. a forever promise of care, love and loyalty."

"i think i would like that" you humm into his chest, "but, let's take it a little slow?"

he kisses you full of warmth, his hands soothing your sides.

"of course, my dear. i will take you on a proper date when we get back. for now, just lay there and let me thank you properly for your help last evening..." he sighs as he kisses your shoulder over and over again.

yesterday at this time of day you were supposed to be nothing but a sacrifice to the geo lord, and now here you were, getting your body worshiped by him, forever safe and secure in his arms as his mate.

[chdarling]

As we’re getting closer to a truly awful day for America, I just wanted to check in on you. Things are bleak and about to get so so much worse, I want you to know I’m here and many others are here too when you’re ready

This is very kind of you, thank you. Honestly, I have not been doing great. Watching my neighbors elect a racist, fascist, Nazi-loving rapist triggered a pretty bad depressive episode on top of what was already the worst period of professional and creative burnout of my life, so….I’m struggling. Still trying to claw my way out of the dark. I’m deeply appreciative of the kindness of this community and am sorry that I haven’t (and probably won’t for a little longer) been able to engage the way I once did. I will again one day, and I am so thankful to know all you wonderful people online. <3

On a note that is completely unrelated to this gentle ask, I’ve been getting a ton of messages lately asking for a date when TLE3 is coming out and I don’t feel up to answering them (sorry) so I’m just going to tack this on here since I buried my last post on the subject under a mountain of despair reblogs: TLE3 is going to take a while.

I’m still planning to continue with my writing projects (be they TLE or other things), but right now I’m focusing on securing my own oxygen mask, etc. When I finished posting TLE2, I said that I would be taking a break and also that I would not be posting TLE3 until I had written all of it (like I had for TLE1). Even if I had been writing diligently every single day since I posted the last chapter, I still wouldn’t be done, so please understand that it’s going to take a while. It certainly will not be coming in the next 6 months, very possibly not in 2025. I know some people won’t be happy to hear that, but just a fun statistic: OOTP has 257,045 words and took three years to write/publish after GOF. TLE2 has (and this makes me cringe a little) 407,079 words and took roughly 3 years to write as an unpaid side hobby on top of full time work, education, etc. I don’t say this to toot my own horn (frankly, it just makes me desperately want to retroactively edit the crap out of TLE2 lol), but rather to reiterate that writing a book-length work takes a lot of time, energy, and love. I don’t want it to take 3 years (and I don’t think it will, TLE3 will be a more reasonable length), but it’s certainly not going to be finished in a few months. That would be insanity and I am not that talented lmao.

I do know that the requests for updates come from a place of love and enthusiasm and excitement and I really, truly appreciate that. I also appreciate all of the kind words of the asks I haven’t been answering. Please know that I’ve read them, I love you, and I will be back eventually. I just have to focus on my health right now, and unfortunately these days being online is pretty bad for that, so I'm going to try to be logged off for a while.

And finally, on another completely unrelated but perhaps mildly tangential note: if anyone has any books recommendations or resources on processing climate grief, I, uh, could use them. 🫠

[ihavethedreamies]

Don't Poke the Bear | Jongho

Choi Jongho - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~7k 🫢 (over 2k of it is smut btw)

Pairing: Bear-Hybrid!Jongho x Fox-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical/Period, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Sweetheart, Sunshine, Precious, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Hickeys/Marking, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (M! Receiving), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Big Dick! Jongho (of course), Size Differences, Size Kink, Praise Kink, Cockbulge, Over-Stimulation, Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…)

Trigger Warning: There is mentions of guns in this, but its just a revolver and the reader shoots it once at a target. That's it.

Disclaimer: I do have the whole cock-bulge thing in this. I understand this could be a bit offensive to some who are on the heavier side (I am in that group as well). Sorry if this doesn't align with your body type, this is just a work of fiction.

Author's Note: This is NOT Omegaverse, but there is a mention of Jongho being an 'alpha'. They have animals ears and tails. Jongho is bigger here than he is in real life, probably about 6'5"/196 cm, since he's a bear hybrid. This is set in about Wild West times, so around 1830s, but it's not a Western themed story.

I will be doing all the members and uploading them as I go. I normally like to upload a whole series at a time but I'm trying to pack to move.

-> Series Hub <-

🦁 Hongjoong's 🦁

🐕 Yeosang's 🐕

🐯 San's 🐯

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

When your stomach groaned, again, you groaned back.

"Shut up, I'm looking." you told it. You got no response. Sighing deeply, you stumbled a bit on a root, catching yourself with a hand on the tree trunk. You had no idea why, but for the last two days, you hadn't been able to find any prey. Sniffing in distaste, you held up an arrow, looking at the completely clean arrowhead. Letting your arm down, the arrow laid at your side. You glanced down at your other slack arm, bow held in that hand. What's the point of having a weapon if there is nothing to kill to eat with it? You wondered what full foxes did when they couldn't find anything to eat. Starve? No, the probably moved on to a different area. A bit harder to do that when you had settled in the area nearly four months prior and had no intention of leaving. Your semi-permanent shelter was finally finished, nice and cozy, and you loved the area you were in. Normally it was simple to get food, just step outside your hut and shoot a hare out in the field. When you were not able to see anything, you instead would go deeper into the woods that your home lay at the edge of. But there was even less there, if it was possible. You were getting closer to the river, but you weren't very good at fishing. Hitting a rabbit or squirrel with an arrow is actually much easier than a fish. Might have to try though, since you had run out of food completely the day prior. It was late fall, getting closer to winter, and so there wasn't really anything to forage for either. Everything had been eaten by deer or other animals. Since you were hungry, so hungry, your steps were uneven and clumsy.

"Fuck!" Your long tail caught on the thorns of some bush, knocking you down to your knees. Yanking the appendage to free it, you yiped, looking back at the branches to see a tuft of rusty orange fur left behind. Running your hands over your tail, the spot wasn't noticeable, but it stung. Scratching the back of your ear at the top of your head, you got back up, continuing toward the water. You could hear the river water rushing over some rocks, most likely a short waterfall. Before you could even see the river though, you saw a building to your left. Getting closer, it was a fairly large shelter, much bigger and nicer than yours. An actual cabin rather than a weird cross between a tent and a hut. It was most likely older and whoever had built it also most likely had known what they were doing. What really caught your eye though, was the fish strung up on a line between two wooden poles. Your mouth watered, one of the giant salmon would easily feed you for a week if you cured it properly and rationed it. You felt your tail wag a bit at the thought and you eagerly stalked forward. The thought of who had caught the fish, and who the dwelling belonged to didn't even cross your mind, way too hungry.

"Come to mama~" You giggled and right when your long claw-like nails got close to pulling the fish off the line, someone grabbed the back of your shirt. Yelping in shock, you felt your feet leave the ground, just an inch or two, your captor easily lifting you. Your legs scrambled helplessly in the air as you floundered, hands going to grapple at the one holding you. The person lifted you even higher in retaliation and so you wiggled and squirmed harder.

"Let me go!" you shouted and that seemed to work, but then you landed hard on your butt.

"Ow, fuck!" You scrambled to get up and to your feet, spinning to see who the heck had grabbed you. What human was stupid enough to mess with a fox hybrid- Bear. Bear hybrid, that's who. Not a human. Your ears pressed back and down against your skull, tail tucking between your legs, no longer snapping back and forth. The male raised an eyebrow and you got a good look at his face. He was gorgeous. All of him, really, not just his face. That, though, very handsome. He was covered from the neck down in dark brown hide, the arms and collar of his jacket lined with thick fur. You didn't know if his pants were so tight from their cut or if his thighs were just that thick, and you honestly hoped for the latter…Or did you? He was thick with muscle all over. He shifted his stance, hands resting on his belt, standing over you, staring. The dominance emanating from him struck through you, and you weren't sure if you should feel scared or aroused. You had met bear hybrids before, that's not what was doing it, it was something from him. It made you wonder…

"A-are you an alpha or something?" you boldly asked. There were some predator hybrids that seemed to be more in touch with their animal nature than others, and he sure seemed like one of them.

"I'm not a canine." He spoke down to you, literally, he was fucking massive. The top of your head barely reached his chin.

"I-I know…"

"Only canines have alphas."

"Then what are you?" He scoffed at your brazen question.

"Why should I answer, vixen, when you came here to steal my food?" He started to walk toward you, so you pounced to the side, turning to keep your face toward him. You watched his hands go to the hook holding the salmon, taking it down off the line. Your tail whipped once, nervously, and you hoped he couldn't hear your heart pounding. You weren't sure how you felt about him, how to feel about how much bigger he was than you, stronger. He smelled so fucking good too-

"I-I'm hungry, okay?! I haven't had any meat in two days!" You tried to defend yourself, your voice cracking pitifully.

"You say that like you don't normally steal." His sneer was evident in his tone and you scoffed hard.

"I don't!"

"You're a fox, right?"

"Not all foxes steal! You big…brute!" He didn't respond, just walked around the pole holding one end of the line, toward the front of his cabin.

"H-hey!" You knew you should have taken the chance to flee, that would have been smart, but instead you trailed after him. Those fish looked too good, and you noticed he was easily carrying the string of five over his shoulder. His big boots thumped across the hard, cold ground, your much lighter feet barely making a sound. When you caught up to him, coming around the cabin, he was laying the fish down on a wooden table it looked like he might have made himself.

"D-do you cook them?" Your mouth watered. You preferred your meat cooked, that was probably the human part of you, but the fox part of you could eat raw if necessary.

"I-if…If I do something for you in return, can I have a fish?" you asked, stepping forward carefully, tail snapping behind you. You were pointing at the one you had been reaching for, which was the smallest one.

"What could you do for me, vixen?" He was standing back up again, hands on his belt. Why did he have to just stand like that? There was no need. Did he just stand like that normally? His question registered then, and your brain kicked into gear trying to think of an answer. You had offered help, but that didn't mean you knew what kind of help. That was his part of the exchange.

"What do you want me to do…he-bear?" For the life of you, you couldn't think then of what a male bear was called. He huffed at your attempt to match his confidence. Your eyes flitted to his chest, shirt struggling and stretching over his chest just from him breathing.

"Jongho."

"What?"

"My name. Please don’t ever call me 'he-bear' again."

"Oh…Jongho. Uh, I'm (Y/N)."

"Can you climb?"

"Climb?"

"Can you climb a tree?"

"Oh, yes." Your eyes followed his thumb when he jabbed it toward his left. You glanced around him toward where he was pointing, an apple tree. It was huge, you wondered how long it had been there.

"Go get as many as you can." He picked up a basket from under the table, easily chucking it toward you. You managed to catch it, maybe fumbled with it a bit, and headed over to the tree. Maybe you could grab a couple of them…

"Where did you get an apple tree?" You called behind you as you approached it, "aren't they normally in human areas?"

"I sell to humans."

"Sell? Sell what?" You wrapped your tail through the handle of the basket, curling it up to hold it up as you climbed up the tree. He was probably tall enough to get at the apples himself, but it would be easier to get them climbing.

"Furs. Wood and metal work." You sat on a branch, putting a narrow branch through the handle of the basket to hold it for you as you plucked a red fruit off a twig. It smelled so good, but he would notice if you took a bite. Dropping it into the basket, you continued, noticing which ones weren't quite ripe yet.

"Metal work?" You peered through the branches of the apple tree, noticing a side building right next to his cabin, a blacksmithing forge inside.

"Wait, you've worked with full humans?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen those little guns they carry? That don't need powder and a ball?" You had picked about ten apples by then, balancing on the branch to try and reach an eleventh. He didn't respond, so you glanced past the leaves to where he was at the table, and he went to a pouch on his belt. He opened it, pulling out a revolver.

"Woah!" You beamed in awe, not paying attention to where you where crawling on the branch. You yelped as it bowed under your weight, making you lose your balance. You closed your eyes, ready to fall. It wasn't too far, you wouldn't die, but it sure would hurt.

"Oof!" You did land on something hard, just not the ground. The wind got knocked out of you as you fell face down onto Jongho, middle on his shoulder. While you caught your breath, coughing a few times, he unlatched the basket and carried both you and it back over to the table. The basket was set on the end of the table and he then let you down to sit on the other end. Even up on the surface, you had to tilt your head to look him in the eye. You rubbed your sore middle, though it was much less painful that it would have been to bellyflop onto the ground. The bear noticed your eyes flit to the little gun still on the table, and he sighed. Grabbing it, he popped the rotating barrel out, shaking the little bullets out, then handed you the unloaded gun. Taking it carefully with both hands, you were surprised at its weight. It was heavy for its size, but much lighter than a musket. He continued to work on the fish, cleaning them or something, eyeing you as you curiously looked at the revolver.

"Man, this would be so much easier to hunt with."

"It's different than aiming a bow." He scoffed, swiping the weapon back from you, reloading it.

"Show me?"

"You're awful demanding." Jongho scolded, holstering the gun back to his belt. You sniffed in disappointment, swinging your legs a bit from where you sat up on the table, watching him work.

"If I feed you, will you leave me be?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"No." You liked to be honest. He sighed, putting his thin knife down.

"I'll leave you be if you show me how to shoot it."

"Why does it matter if you don't have one yourself?" You shrugged in response. He couldn't decide if you were annoying or endearing. He stood up straight, stepping closer to you, so he was standing right before you. Your ears dropped a bit, tail lying flat from where it had been thumping on the wood softly. He was so freaking big. You felt a familiar twinge in your tummy, and your thighs clenched. His eyebrow raised, nostrils flaring slightly and your eyes widened in panic. Could he smell your arousal? So easily? The bear sighed deeply then, "Come here." He took the gun back out and you hopped off the table to follow him as he headed around a big tree. When you came around as well, you saw that there was a circle carved into another tree a bit in distance.

"Hold it up, arm straight out, level it. Then, line this little piece up with where you want to shoot." His thumb flicked at the sight piece.

"Pull the hammer back with your thumb, then press the trigger with your index finger. You'll have to press harder than you think." He snapped the barrel back out, rotated it to check the rounds, then snapped it back shut, handing it to you. You followed his instructions, keenly aware of him at your back. You stood much the same way you did for archery, but he corrected you. He brought his hand to your bicep, bringing it up so you gripped the gun with both hands instead. To compensate, you turned your body a bit more toward the target. You clicked the hammer back, that took more strength than you thought too, and wrapped your finger around the trigger. Breathing in, steadying your aim, you lined the sight up. As you breathed out, you pressed hard like he coached and the gun went off. It was so much louder than you expected, your ears flattening to your skull, body recoiling along with the weapon. You stumbled back into his solid chest, ears ringing painfully. You narrowed your vision toward the target. You didn't get a bullseye, but you did at least hit inside the target circle. That feat pulled your body out of shock from the loud bang and you beamed, cheering.

"I did it!" You jumped in excitement and he quickly took the still smoking gun from you. He holstered it once more and couldn't help but let out a small huff of laughter as you cheered for yourself. Endearing, he decided, cute even.

~*~*~

"D-do I rotate it?" You looked over at him, sitting on a log bench by the fire pit. He had cleaned, filleted and skewered the salmon, letting the pieces roast by the fire. Jongho had set them in the dirt, skin facing the flames more, tilted toward the heat.

"It's fine." He had brought the basket of apples over and you watched him roll one in his hand. His eyes flicked to your face, wanting to see your reaction, as he gripped the fruit with both hands, splitting it perfectly in half with ease.

"Woah!" Your face lit up and he couldn't hold back a smug grin. Holding the two halves easily in one hand, he held it out for you, and you sprung to your feet from your own log bench. Skipping over, you took the two halves from him, the scent making your mouth water. Sinking your teeth into the flesh, you groaned in delight. You hadn't had the pleasure of eating an apple before. Crab apples, yes…but those are absolutely horrible. The bear could tell you were honest about being so hungry with how fast you devoured the fruit. When you were left with the two pieces of the core, you hiccupped. Your face grew more and more displeased with each hiccup, growing annoyed with the process.

"Geez." You breathed hard, trying to control your throat, but you hiccupped again, a slight pain blossoming in your chest.

"Fucking hell." You swore softly, then let out another hiccup.

"Geez!" You groaned, then your tummy rumbled, and a gas bubble erupted. You kept your mouth closed to muffle the noise, minding your manners, and the seizes stopped.

"Thank goodness." You sighed and Jongho couldn't help but chuckle. So cute. He was a little upset with how cute you were growing to him.

"What?" You whined a bit, feeling self-conscious.

"You're cute, vixen." Your tail snapped in embarrassment.

"I have a name." You corrected coyly, not able to look at him, face warming. You almost added on 'he-bear', but he had said please…

"(Y/N), you're cute." He fixed his compliment and you sniffed, secretly pleased.

"And?"

"And what?" You weren't sure what you were expecting, honestly.

"Uh…"

"Whatever, sweetheart." The little pet-name wasn't condescending or patronizing, and your entire body froze.

"D-don't." you whispered and he rose a brow in question, looking up from a second apple.

"Don't?"

"D-don't call me that…"

"Why not?" The bear smirked; you could see it from your peripheral. Your cheeks were quite red by that point. You didn't answer, focusing on watching your fish cook. He let it go, chuckling softly to himself.

~*~*~

"It's hot-" He warned, but it was too late. The hot fish stung your tongue, but you were much too hungry to care. Waving the skewer it was on, like that would cool it off, you blew hard on it a few times, then took another bite. You devoured the fish, much like the apple, he was surprised you ate the whole filet.

"T-Thank you." You wiped at your mouth with your forearm, handing the skewer back to him. He took the whittled bone from you and it seemed you were getting ready to leave, picking up your bow and quiver.

"You live nearby?"

"Oh, yeah, just a few meters that way." You waved in the general direction. The sun was setting by then, the cold setting in.

"In that half-tent?"

"It’s a hut!" You tried to defend your shelter since you built it yourself. He stood then, and you wondered what he was doing, coming toward you.

"There's a storm coming, I'll help you get your things, you can stay here tonight."

"A storm? Like snow? Already? Wait, what!?" He walked past you toward your home and you gaped after him like the fish you just ate. Shaking your head to gather your senses back, you trotted after him. You were a bit out of breath by the time you got to your dwelling, you couldn't even see the fire from his place.

"B-but this is where I live, I'll be okay!" You seemed to be trying to convince yourself of that as well.

"Get your stuff." He jerked his head toward your hut and you huffed but did so. If there really was a snowstorm coming, you would prefer the much sturdier and less drafty cabin he had. You were able to gather everything except the structure itself with his help and he went slower for you on the way back. You wondered how the heck you had never noticed his cabin before, but you also never went that far into the woods, let alone so close to the river. As you passed the cursed bush that tore a chunk of your fur out, you sneered down at it, wrapping your tail around your leg to keep it safe. You heard him huff out a laugh, and you glared at his rounded black ears, one of them flicking slightly. At first you were a bit ruffled by his suggestion, but you were growing grateful as some snowflakes started to fall. Plus, ultimately, he was being kind. You thought he was going to set you up in his smithing lean-to, or maybe even just under the shelter of the room over his porch. But he had opened the door to his cabin, bringing your stuff with him. The bear looked over his shoulder at you, waiting for you to follow. Once inside, you looked around. To your left was a table with a water jug and basin and to the right a large cedar chest. There was a sitting area with an actual couch and a fireplace. Right across from the door on the other end of the one-room cabin was the bed, big and with a mattress. It must really pay to trade with humans… You watched him set your belongings against the wall near the bed and you noticed a little side room.

"You have an attached outhouse?!" You gaped at the luxury and he hummed. Not really an outhouse if it was attached… You set your stuff you had carried next to his load and looked more around his home. The couch looked comfy, but you had little perspective, never having the luxury of sitting on one. It did beat sleeping on a bedroll, you assumed, and you were a bit worried that you wouldn't want to go back.

"I take up a lot of the bed, but you're tiny." His comment threw you out of your thoughts, nearly giving yourself whiplash with how hard you turned to look at him.

"W-what?"

"It's going to get really cold, even with the fire on. It'll be warmer." He stated and you realized he was right. Still, your insides flopped at the thought. It was hard enough being around him, and how good he smelled, let alone in a room that smelled mostly of him. Could you really handle sleeping next to him…just sleeping? You swallowed, you weren't due for a heat for a while, but he was extremely attractive. The fact that he was a bear should have lessened your desire, but no. The unfamiliar, the new experience, the size difference…

"What are you thinking about, sunshine?" Jongho had walked past you to shut the door, pulling out a small box. Matches. You had never seen them at work before, so you stepped closer, watching him scratch the little red end of the wood piece on the side of the box, flame erupting out of thin air. He lit the oil lamps he had, casting a soft warm glow around the room, seemingly right as the sun set beyond the horizon. You didn't make a comment on the little pet-name, though it wasn't much easier to process than 'sweetheart'.

"C-can't you just use my name?" You sniffed, moving around him to sit on the couch. The leather-covered cushion sunk under your butt and you let out a silent 'wow' at the plush feeling. The bear chuckled, moving around to join you on the couch. You scooted over to allow him room, he took up much more space than you. He rested back, arm slung to the side over the back, right behind you. His feet were firmly planted on the floor, knees wide, and he sat on the couch like he was a king on his throne. The confident dominance wafted over you again and your core pulsed. Biting your lip, you looked away from him quick, and Jongho smirked at your sudden rigid posture. He watched the tip of your tail as the end thumped lightly on the cushion. You squeaked when he carefully ran his fingers over the orange fur, right where you had a tuft ripped out.

"What happened?"

"You can notice it?" You whined, looking at the spot, trying to ignore that he was still touching your tail. His eyes flitted to your ear as it flicked in annoyance.

"It got snagged on some thorns earlier."

"Did it hurt?"

"Stung a bit…" You flinched when a sudden gust of wind rattled the door and shutters on the window. Your ears flicked when a distant rumbling travelled through the air.

"Thunder?" You could have sworn that's what you heard, but that would be weird. When it happened again though, it was confirmed.

"It can thunder in a snowstorm?" You wondered aloud and the bear hummed, fingers once again stroking over the fur of your tail. Goosebumps rose on your skin, the fur raising a bit along with it.

"I'm gonna use the outhouse!" You stood up quickly, pulling your tail out from under his hand and curling it toward yourself. As you did so, you could smell your own arousal, and hoped that since your pants would be back up, he wouldn't be able to as well. Going back into the house, you sighed at the warmth, he already had a fire going. It was rapidly getting cold and you could hear the wind whipping along with a low distant rumble. Despite the fire, you knew he was right about it getting pretty cold. Gently sitting on the edge of the mattress, you tried to ignore how soft it was, and took off your boots. Slipping off your vest, you climbed up further on the bed, bouncing a bit in delight.

"Move over, sunshine." He motioned for you to follow, since you were in the middle of the bed. You bounced on your butt to do so, too enamored with the mattress to really focus on him.

"Ah!" You squeaked when he wrapped his arm around you, lifting you with ease so he could pull the blankets out from under you and back. Your face was rapidly heating along with your lower stomach and you finally looked over him as he got in the bed. He had taken off his bear hide coat, leaving him in just a light brown henley shirt. The ends of the sleeves had been rolled up to rest right below his elbows and you marveled at the evident muscle there.

"Sleep, (Y/N)." Jongho had laid back, adjusting his head on the pillow and you slowly followed suit. You nearly moaned in delight at the feeling of the mattress cradling you, the pillow under your head just as soft. Yep, you never wanted to sleep on a bedroll again. You were startled out of your thoughts when he pulled the blankets up and over you, rolling onto his side so he could face you. He propped himself up on his palm, elbow to the bed, delicately resting the end of the blanket up near your chin. Your face burned hot, and you nestled into the bedding to hide.

"Th-thank you for letting me stay here for the storm…" You mumbled and he hummed, finally resting down himself, still facing you. When he pulled the blanket up and over himself, you felt the heat rapidly rise under the covers. You had never felt so warm and cozy in your life, and you suddenly felt your weariness. Blinking, trying to stay awake, you looked over his face, vision hazy from sleepiness. He was…

"So handsome." You muttered, barely registering you said it aloud, and he had heard it. The bear smirked at the compliment.

"Get some sleep, pretty girl." His clawed finger came up and brushed a strand of hair off your face and you couldn't help but follow his instruction.

~*~*~

Probably only an hour or two later, you were forced awake by a flash of light, a booming rumble, then the sound of wood snapping. You had rolled over onto your stomach, so you propped yourself up on your elbows underneath you. The blanket hung over your head, but you could see through the shutters of the window to the side of the bed. You had heard of a thundersnow before but had never experienced one. You shivered at the cool air hitting your face, it was so nice and warm under the blankets. Burrowing back under, you rolled to your side, facing the bear. You had nearly forgotten he was right there and you found your face right against his chest. It rose and fell as he slept, and you were a bit surprised he didn't snore, like…you know, like a bear.

Swallowing hard to steel your nerves for your next move, you slowly reached out, pressing your fingertips against the hard muscle of his chest. You shivered, wanting to feel over him more, see him…

"Haven't you heard not to poke a sleeping bear, sunshine?" His voice rumbling startled you. It was deep and rough from sleep and you rolled your eyes back a bit at how it made you feel, and his comment.

"Yeah, and?" You did it again, pressing just one finger against his chest that time, literally poking him. Poke. Poke. Poke.

"Huh?" You felt the bed shift, and he rolled, propping himself up over you on his forearm, pinning you to the mattress. Your hands were clenched into fists at your chest, holding them close to you for security. His face was so close, and you could feel the breath leaving his nostrils. As he loomed over you, he shifted his knee up, his thick leg wedging between yours. You shivered, letting out a small whine when his thigh pressed against your mound. Jongho smirked, leaning down so his mouth was right by your ear.

"Your decision. See what poking a bear does." You loosened one fist, index finger sticking out, shaking. Poke. His large hands suddenly seized your hips, claws slightly digging into the flesh of your ass through your pants. With his grip, he pressed your core against his thigh, forcing you to grind over him. You sighed at the feeling; a bit of a whine laced through the exhale. He shifted his knee further forward and hauled you up so he could wedge it under your lower back. Jongho led you to wrap your legs around his middle, still pressing you down to grind your covered cunt on his upper thigh. That pulled a moan from you and you gasped hard when he started laying open-mouthed kisses over your neck and shoulder. A low rumble hit your ears and at first you thought it was more distant thunder, but then you could feel it as you pressed your hands to his chest. Your fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt and you moaned as his kisses turned to sucking, and he barely dug his sharp teeth into your shoulder. Without his, or your prompting, your hips jumped, and he pressed into your movement. The bear's cock was growing hard, and your eyes fluttered closed when you felt it. Could he even fit?

"Are you sure about this, sunshine?" He pulled away, smirking as he admired the growing bruises he created over your shoulders and neck.

"Yeah, why?" Your eyes met his as a bolt of lightning lit the room, then thunder rumbled, snow blowing harsh against the window.

"Think your little body can handle me?" Jongho tilted his head, that smirk still there and you purposely moved your hips, whining.

"Yes!"

"You sure?"

"Would you just fuck me already?" You nearly shouted. He didn't answer, but your next plea was silenced as he swallowed it, tongue easily wiggling its way into your mouth. Your eyes rolled back as his hands dug into the flesh of your hips, avoiding using his claws too much. When your head started to swim, he pulled back from the kiss, smirking at the end of your tongue sticking out a bit from your mouth. One hand went to your jaw, thumb slipping into your mouth, and you eagerly sucked on it, tongue avoiding the sharp part of his claw.

"Want something else, sunshine?" Jongho grinned deviously as you nodded, whimpering. He got off of you then and you immediately missed not just the weight of him over you, but the heat his body was releasing. You just started in awe as he finally pulled the shirt off, and his muscle was clearly from strength, brute strength, not to look good. Though…he did.

"Hurry up, sunshine." His hand gripped over the bulge in his pants, and you rapidly sat up, your own hands going to the waist band. He watched calmly as you struggled to get the button undone and you bit your lip as you got his pants open. His hard cock nearly sprung out and you felt your mouth water at the sight, jaw already sore. Your long fluffy tail waved behind you, ears drooping as your small hand tried to wrap around his girth. Couldn't even get your fingers to touch and your cunt spasmed, telling you it was good and ready for him. Licking your lips to try and prevent the drool from dripping too bad, you stuck just the head in your mouth, tongue eagerly swirling. The salty drop of precum you tasted just fueled the fire and your eyes lazily flitted up to meet his. The look he gave you nearly made you whine; you didn’t know what bears called alphas, but he sure was one. Jongho's eyebrow crooked up, waiting boredly, and swallowed a few times, then eased him further in. It was a bit hard to keep your teeth behind your lips with how big his cock was, but he fit. The slight pressure from the sides of your long canines just added to the pleasure of your hot and wet mouth, drool already spilling from your lips. His eyes watched your tail wave back and forth, chest starting to rumble again as you took more of his cock. The head hit your throat, he was only about halfway in and you swallowed again, tongue eagerly slicking the underside of his dick. Your eyes met again and he barely seemed phased, so you sucked hard, your other hand joining the first to cover more of him. Bobbing your head, you hollowed your cheeks, whimpering at the taste of him. His large hand landed on your head, thump stroking the soft skin on the inside of your ear and you shifted your posture. Sitting back on your knees more, you widened your legs to lower you some, and let go with your hands.

"You sure, sunshine?" Jongho's smirk had come back and a full growl rumbled through the room when you nodded. Sucking air in harshly through your nose, swallowing to try and prevent your gags, he took charge, easing his cock in himself. When the fat head hit the back, he continued in, groaning as your eyes fluttered back. Your breathing was loud and fast, trying to take in enough air so when he finally filled your throat, you could hold your breath a bit. The spasms of your throat with your gags made him chuckle and he started to pump his hips, fucking his cock into your mouth. The slick sounds of your spit and lolling tongue were almost drowned out by the storm, but he could clearly hear your whines. He could feel them vibrating over his dick as well and he paid attention to your breathing and paced his thrusts.

"You thirsty, sunshine?" The bear laughed when your next whine was louder and he grunted, waiting for your breath. Once you had inhaled hard, he plunged in so your nose was pressed to his groin, hot thick spurts of cum going straight down your throat. Your cunt spasmed, slick dripping nearly through your pants, clit throbbing as you rode your high against the thick seam. Your vision started to blur, brain fogging, still swallowing over and over to get all he gave down, and he finally withdrew so you could suck in air. Your throat was raw, sore, but you would let him do it all over again and thank him for it too. Now that his high had faded, though his dick was still rock hard, he could smell the thick aroma of your arousal. You smelled like spring grass and fresh water, laced with the sweet scent of marigolds.

"Lay back, sunshine." He prompted and you flopped back onto your back, body shivering, though it wasn't clear from what. There was a dark stain on the crotch of your pants, he noticed as he took his off. You were hauled to sit up as he tugged at your shirt, tearing a few runs into it as he pulled it off of you and you squeaked as he wrestled your leather leggings off. They flopped onto the floor behind him and your scent had grown further, making his pupils narrow, brow furrowing. You eagerly wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders when he crawled over you, nose running up your throat. Jongho nearly roared as he growled, grasping your thighs, pulling back so he could manhandle you. Your knee ended up at your ear, the other looped over his elbow and your eyes could only focus on his fat cock head pressing against your folds.

"Fuck!" You threw back your head, back arching when he pressed in, not rough but not slow either. With all your strength, you lifted your head to watch your cunt flutter to accommodate the stretch, core burning. He realized then maybe he should have prepped you a bit, your pussy was so tight, that if you weren't so wet, he wouldn't be able to fill you so easily. You both, at the same moment, noticed that there was already a bulge forming from your stomach, his thick cock not even in all the way. You should have known the minute he kissed you before that you were ruined, but now it was for sure. You knew you would be sore in the morning too, but you would prefer being sore the rest of your life as his bed partner than to never fuck him again. His deep chuckle morphed into a grunt as he bottomed out, slick spilling from your stretching hole and onto the bed below. If he had known that you were only about a mile from his home, your cute little face and cute little pussy, he would have gone and found you himself.

"Jongho~" You nearly howled, hands reaching for him, out of his reach from sitting up straight. Adjusting your legs, while letting your core adjust to him, he pressed down close so your hands could find purchase on his back. Your ankles were at his ears, hot breath panting against his lips.

"You like my cock, precious?" The new pet-name was even worse than the others, and he could tell by how your gummy walls pulsed harder around him. His plush lips brushed over yours, then he felt you gasp into his mouth with the kiss, his groin pressing against your swollen clit. He watched your eyes glaze over, body falling limp as he pulled his hips back, giving a shallow and weak thrust, gaging if your body was ready.

"Too much?" The bear cooed when you shook your head no.

"More?" He prompted and that time, you shook your head yes. You should have guessed how powerful he could be, but you still weren't expecting the bed frame to crack against the wall with the first thrust. Your body screamed, but no sound left you as Jongho moved to press your knees to your ears, each deep, hard thrust forcing a tiny orgasm out of you. Your cunt burned from the stretch and stimulation, and your brain was fried. Good thing you were out in the woods with a storm raging, because you were squeaking and squealing, grunts and groans leaving him as well. Jongho rolled forward a bit more, hips barreling his cock down into your folded body, his thick claws leaving deep gouges into the wood as he gripped the headboard.

"Want my cum, precious? Huh, want my fat cock to fuck you stupid? Hm?" His tone was incredibly patronizing and it went straight to your cunt. You had left a puddle on the bedding beneath your hips and a mix of your drool and tears had left one on his pillow too. The cold from the snowstorm seemed to have been completely negated by the heat you felt, from him and because of him.

"Fill me, please! Jongho~" He wasn't sure why that time was different, the way you moaned his name, but it went to his head and his cock, orgasm hitting. Hot waves of cum filled you, the head of his dick pressed right against your cervix, so much slick and release squirting out from where you were connected. His hips continued to roll a bit, and you wondered how he was still so hard after pumping so much cum into you, and your poor pussy was stinging from the countless numbed of times he made you cum. You barely knew your name or where you were, let alone what you had let slip before.

"Like my big cock, precious?" The bear smirked when your droopy eyes flew open, ears flicking, tail started to thumb against the bed.

"You did good for me, sunshine." He was getting into it then, loving your reaction, face reddening further, cunt clenching around him more. It was like you were a dog, tail wagging for being a good girl. You yiped when he pulled out from you, the rapid loss took the air out of your lungs. He rolled you over and you couldn't hold yourself up at all, so only his hands on your hips kept them raised. You keened when the head of his messy cock met your equally messy folds once more and he didn't ease in that time. He somehow got even deeper, hips slapping against your ass so hard that you were sure the skin would be red and stinging soon. Your own claws gouged into the wood of the headboard, not able to do anything but take what he gave you, sweat coating both your bodies.

"Don't worry precious, I won't break you." The bear laughed, grinding his cock deep, as you came once more, the sting was fading into pain and you feared he could go much longer.

"Just. A. Bit. More." He grunted, chest rumbling and fell over the edge again, the heat inside you reignited as more hot white painted your core.

"Going to stay here with me? Be my cute little vixen?" His sudden question barely registered in your head, exhaustion taking over.

"Okay~"

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[sarafinaparvez]

recharge, reset ˎˊ-

౨ৎ  How to have a Successful Reset Day in 5 Steps ౨ৎ

What is a "Reset Day" ?

A reset day is the day I use to “get back on track” with life in general. I typically choose to have a reset day after a rough, stressful or unproductive period of time and though the steps are ordinary in word; the simple practices of planning your day out, cleanliness + reorganization within the home, and bodily care/hygiene are imperative; as I believe the foundation to having life in order starts first with the home and the body.

Step 1. Your reset morning should start with a well thought out to-do list for every task that needs to be completed. 🌷

 You can write this in your planner (if you have one), a journal, or a piece of paper. I like to avoid making this to-do list digitally, as the constant rechecking of my list online may lead me distracted from my “real life” tasks. 

There's two reasons why I made making a written to-do list the first step (despite the steps being written here). The first reason is because it gives you a way to “check off” each task once completed; which will reward satisfaction (and potentially motivate you more to start and finish the next one).

Secondly, though it’s fine to only do the tasks written in this post for your entire reset day (which is what I typically did when I was younger and had less responsibilities), others of you may want to add certain equally important tasks to be completed after them. Such as, paying any overdue bills you've been neglecting or returning overdue library books- as some examples <3 

Step 2. Clean your home 🧹💨 (or room) 

For this step, having clean laundry 🧺 (clothes, towels, sheets, etc.). As well as a clean bed to retire to in the night- is what I place main emphasis on. These are the chores that make me feel the most put together and back on track once completed; even before any other chores that may need to be done around the house (Dependent on your own living situation).

Step 3. Clean yourself (have an “everything shower”)

As extensive or simple as *you* prefer it. 🛁

Step 4. Plan your next day right before bedtime (optional, suggested) 

✏️ You may also utilize this to jot down any tasks that you were not able to finish in this day.

Step 5. Sleep on time to be well rested for the next day  ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Always non-negotiable. 🤍

Congratulations! You are now recharged, refreshed, and fully set to take on the next days to come! If you ever get off track, no need to worry as you know exactly what to do to start anew once again.

Please reblog if you found helpful 🫶!

- love, sarafina x

[striveattemptfail]

in prime earth canon, jason todd (NOT red hood) was* publicly known to be alive

red hood: outlaw (2018) #32 (ID in alt text)

considering that jason todd was the official owner of the iceberg lounge during this time, it's likely he acquired the lounge legally and thus can be inferred that he had to be declared legally alive to do so

which brings me to my point:

i've seen a lot of people writing/speculating the difficulties and limitations jason experiences bc he was declared legally dead after ethiopia, which is all well and good, and is fantastic fodder for angst

but i've been wondering if this was bc people are actively ignoring canon (valid) or simply didn't know that at one point* jason was publicly alive (also valid, bc following comics is a shitshow lol)

please reblog to increase visibility! the whole point of this poll is to gauge how many people know this, so i'd love to see this post reach as many people as possible. thank you~! 😅🙏

(* big disclaimer under the cut!)

note: all of this info is as of may 2023. i am only one human so it's impossible for me to read every comic jason has been in since rhato (2016) and remember every single thing that happened. if anything i said above the cut is incorrect now, i apologize! /o\

for reference, as of creating this poll i've read:

red hood and the outlaws (2016) #1-26

red hood: outlaw (2018) #27-52

task force z (2021) #1-12

batman: urban legends (2021) #1-6 – cheer pt.1-6

the joker: the man who stopped laughing (2022) #3-5

i haven't read a lot of other important runs like death metal (2020), three jokers (2020), robins (2021), etc. if jason (NOT red hood) was declared dead once again in any of those, that is the reason why i used "was" in the very first sentence of this post and reiterate that he was alive at least for a limited period

my bad that i missed his second legal death tho LOLLL

i'm also aware that red hood (NOT jason) was known as "dead" by others after task force z (even though he clearly didn't die). that said, in the little i've read of tj:tmwsl, it seems that 1) not everyone knows red hood is actually alive, and/or that 2) red hood died at all. again, if red hood is generally known to be alive after tfz, that's on me

if there's anything else i've missed, let me know!! i'll update/reblog this post for as long as the poll is up (-u-)b

[shooting-love-arrows]

A noble or bussines person in 1800s yan and the reader is their assistant or personal butler/maid. Where the yan is hiding their feelings but show it in controling way like order the reader to do the most simple stuff even if it was not their jo just to see them? Or steal few touch like head pat or on shoulder or simply their fingers touch😔

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 x [servant] reader (gender not implied/mentioned/specified) Tw. love sick fool, soft yandere, mention of lace but every gender can wear it (?)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who pushes to the edge of your limits. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 overworks you to the point where you often catch yourself fainting in the middle of performing tasks. Your position, pay and living conditions might be better than those of the other servants but the list of your tasks was long and more often than not ridiculous. Those little, useless things that took most of your time and energy. But who are you to oppose to someone who had mercifully hired you and give you a roof over your head? No one.

"I have some new tasks I want you to complete." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 regards you coldly and hands you a paper with a list of other (ridiculous) tasks to do.

Who more than once caught you sleeping in the middle of doing your work. But that's alright. He just takes this chance to come closer and hold your hand, caress your head or cheek. Unfortunately, he has to wake you up at some point but he always uses most of this short period of time to have some type of concat with you.

"Oh dearest, if only you knew how I long for you." He whispers into your ear while you were in a deep sleep.

Who never fails to admire (stare) at you while you work. Most of the tasks given to you are either related or include him. Either way, you spent most of your time with him. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 made sure of that and he didn't regret it one bit because he has got to be with you. Oh how he loved it when you are near him. You bring him peace he needs in his stressful and rushing life. You are just so...endearing. To this day he can't decide if he wants to flaunt you around or lock you in one of the chambers where only he would be able to look at you.

"You would look lovely in silk...perhaps some lace?" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 thought to himself, fantasizing about you in different clothes before an image of you without them abruptly appeared in his head.

Who melts when you touch him. Especially when you dress him up and take care of his visage. The cold and calculating man becomes putty in your hands. You are surprised to see him sighing softly, closing his eyes and humming when you button up his shirt or brush his hair. From what you heard from other servants, even from outside your household, no other master seemed to be acting like that. But once again, who are you to pry and complain? And when your fingers happen to touch? A pleasurable shiver runs down his spine.

"You are my lifeline and your touch is like water. I need both of them to live."

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[soulaires]

Double Trouble | A.W

PAIRINGS – dad!aaron warner x mom!reader

SYPNOSIS – meet the new addition to the warner family; angel and death.

ⓘ :: domestic fluff, warner is stressing bro, big sister dior!!, allusion to sex, chaotic duo, married life, pregnancy, used the word ‘mama’, suggestive themes!!!, this is VERY LONG,

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Now that I already finished this, I can actually post the divorce au, yeah it’s coming soon! (just need this to be up for days so you guys can get used to the twins before the divorce one) anyway, please comment and reblog!!! Means a lot to me ❤️‍🩹

You are very much sure as fuck that Aaron Warner is gonna get you pregnant once again after you made that promise

So, weeks later after you quickly realized that you are starting to get more grumpy, moody, missing your period, hating the random smells and just craving some unusual food, you ran to the bathroom as your husband and daughter is down in the kitchen making some pancakes

You found two pregnancy test in your drawer, the two untouched pregnancy test that you have bought years ago prior to your pregnancy with dior

When you saw two red lines indicating that you were pregnant, you were extremely happy.

instead being nervous or having a break down (just like you did in your pregnancy with dior) you were so excited to break the news your daughter and husband

you smile to yourself and looked at your belly, despite the bump not being visible you put your hands on top of it and smiles.

“Welcome to the family, baby warner. Mommy loves you already.”

you think to keep this a secret for awhile, intending the day for dior to spend the whole day for her achievements in her daycare

Not wanting her to feel jealous or feel being replaced

You know that she would be happy since she's been wishing for it but hey, better safe than sorry.

You carefully placed the tests back in the drawer and took a deep breath. The delicious smell of pancakes wafted up from the kitchen, where your husband, Aaron, and daughter, Dior, were busy cooking breakfast. You think that keeping this up yourself for a while would be fine, telling the news later on.

Making your way downstairs, you could hear Dior's giggles and Aaron. You paused at the doorway, taking in the sight of your husband and daughter laughing together as they flipped pancakes. Dior, with her golden curls bouncing, stood on top of your husband's feet, concentrating hard as she poured batter onto the hot griddle, while Aaron guided her little hands.

Your husband noticed you first, smiling softly, “good morning, my love.” hearing the word ‘love’ your daughter beamed and ran towards you.

“Mommy love!” she said as she hugged your legs looking at you with those adorable doe eyes, “momma uppie!”

Picking her up, "Good morning, my loves," you said, stepping into the kitchen giving your husband a kiss on the cheek while your daughter demanded your attention.

Aaron turned and flashed you a warm smile. "G’morning! You're just in time for the best pancakes in the world, courtesy of Chef Dior."

Dior beamed with pride. "Mommy, I made them just for you!"

You walked over and gave her a big hug, feeling an extra wave of emotion knowing she would soon be a big sister. "They smell amazing, sweetheart. Thank you."

You joined them at the table, and as they started serving the pancakes, you felt the weight of the secret you were carrying. You can't wait.

Later that day, the house was finally quiet. Aaron had just finished putting Dior to bed, her gentle breathing filling the nursery with a sense of peace that contrasted starkly with the earlier chaos. He lingered for a moment, watching her tiny chest rise and fall, before turning off the light and gently closing the door behind him.

Meanwhile, you were in the master bathroom, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

You knew you had to share this moment with Aaron and Dior sooner or later. The thought of seeing Aaron's reaction, of watching Dior's little face light up with the news of becoming a big sister, filled you with excitement. You quickly devised a plan to break the news to them in a way that would make the moment unforgettable.

Aaron was in the living room, reclining on the couch with a tired but contented look on his face. He smiled as you entered the room, patting the space next to him. "Hey, how’s our little troublemaker?" he asked, referring to Dior.

"Fast asleep, finally," you replied, sitting down and snuggling up to him. "She put up quite a fight, but you handled it like a pro."

He chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around you. "It's all worth it, you know? Even the crying and the sleepless nights. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

You took a deep breath, feeling your heart flutter with anticipation. "Aaron, I have something to show you," you said, your voice trembling slightly with excitement.

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What is it?"

You stood up and hurried back to the bathroom, retrieving the two pregnancy tests. When you returned to the living room, you held them behind your back, trying to contain your excitement. "Close your eyes," you instructed.

Aaron chuckled but complied, closing his eyes with a playful smile. "Okay, eyes closed."

You carefully placed the pregnancy tests in his hands, watching his face intently as he opened his eyes and looked down. For a moment, there was silence. Then, his eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the words.

"Are you serious?" he finally managed to say, looking up at you with a mixture of shock and elation.

You nodded, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. "Yes, Aaron. We're having another baby."

A wide grin spread across his face as he jumped up from the couch, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Oh my God, this is amazing! We're going to have another baby!" He kissed you passionately.

"We have to tell Dior tomorrow," you said, your voice filled with excitement.

It was tomorrow morning, time to tell dior. You can't help but be giddy about it and feel anxious. You guys went to her room with a knock on the door and kisses.

“Hey, princess,” Aaron said softly, sitting down on the edge of her bed with Dior in his lap. "Mommy and Daddy have something very special to tell you."

You sat down beside them, smiling at Dior as she woke up fully, curiosity replacing her sleepiness. "Dior, do you remember when you always talked about how wonderful it would be if you had a little brother or sister to play with?" you began gently.

Dior nodded, her eyes wide with interest. "Yes, Mommy."

"Well, guess what?" you continued, taking her tiny hands in yours. "Mommy has a baby growing in her tummy. You're going to be a big sister!"

Dior's eyes lit up with excitement and wonder. "Really? A baby?" she exclaimed, looking between you and Aaron.

Aaron nodded, beaming with pride. "That's right, sweetheart."

Dior's face broke into a huge smile as she clapped her hands together. "Yay! I’m going to be a big sister!" she squealed, throwing her arms around both of you in a tight hug.

You laughed, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks as you held your family close. "Yes, baby, you're going to be the best big sister ever," you said, kissing the top of her head.

Aaron and Dior took turns placing gentle hands on your belly, speaking softly to the new life growing inside you.

Dior would always look up at you with doe eyes . "Mommy, can I tell the baby I love them?" she asked.

Your heart melted at her words. "Of course, sweetheart," you said, leaning down so she could whisper to your belly.

"hi, baby," Dior whispered. "I love you."

You kissed her forehead, feeling a deep sense of peace and happiness. "Hi, Dior. We love you too.”

The rest of the morning was a blur of laughter and plans for the future. Dior couldn't stop talking about all the things she wanted to teach her new sibling, from how to ride a bike to her favorite bedtime stories. Aaron held you close, his hand resting protectively on your stomach, as if he could already feel the new life growing inside you.

Dior and Aaron would be so protective!!!

She would always look after you, giving you some check ups with her doctor toy kit while you and aaron go along with it (your husband is her assistant apparently)

she would scold her dad when she mess things up

obviously, your husband won’t let you do anything in the house just like before

they are both clingy and always pay attention to your needs

There was a get together to tell all of your friends and dior happily announced that she will be a big sister!!

juliette and nazeera were very happy for you and already planning for the gender reveal

delalieu then gave his best wishes for the new addition, giving hoth of you and your husband a hug. Then your daughter and james came running to snatch him to play

while kenji, fucking keni was obviously ecstatic and boasting that there will be a new baby that would have him as another favorite (oh little does he know)

Haider and kenji obviously teased you and warner for it cuz apparently the little shit “know how baby made” and they were amused lols

you guys went to Warner's mom tomb to tell her

and it was such a cute moment

When it was time for the gender reveal, sonya, kenji and nazeera had planned it out to all of you

The sun was shining brightly as everyone gathered in your backyard for the gender reveal party. A large black balloon, filled with either blue or pink confetti, floated in the center of the yard, waiting to be popped. Your husband stood beside you, holding your hand. “Alright, everyone! It’s time to find out if its a boy or a girl!” Aaron announced, his voice filled with excitement. You scanned the crowd, expecting to see dior’s eager face among them, but she was nowhere to be found. “Hey, where's Dior?” you asked, a hint of worry creeping into your voice.

“love she’s he—?!” your husband stopped as he frantically looked around, “Princess!?” he shouted. Haider, quickly stepped forward. “I’ll go get her, habibi, she’s probably inside.” he offered, heading inside the house.

“okay, thank you!” you smile softly

“wait let me come!” kenji shouted as he sprint inside. Moments later, the back door opened, and Kenji and haider appeared with Dior, who was holding another balloon, identical to the first one and you hear some gasp and ‘wooooo!’ ’omg omg’ from your friends You exchanged a puzzled glance with aaron. “What's going on?” you asked. “oh my gods” aaron chuckled lightly as he realized and gave you a kiss. Dior beamed up at you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Mommy, Daddy, there are two babies inside you!” You gasped as the realization sank in. You felt a surge of emotion, tears welling up in your eyes. "Twins?" you whispered, barely able to contain your joy.

Dior nodded vigorously. With shaking hands, you and aaron took hold of the two balloons. Dior stood between you, her face glowing with happiness. “Ready?” aaron asked, looking at you and Dior. "Ready," you both replied in unison. "Three, two, one!" Aaron counted down. With a loud pop, blue confetti burst from both balloons, raining down over you. The yard erupted in cheers and applause as everyone celebrated the news. "We're having twin boys!" you exclaimed, pulling aaron and Dior into a tight embrace.

Now you know it's a twin, you are starting to worry because twin??? Really???

You have no idea how you are going to survive

but aaron always assures you, always there for you

your moods and craving have gotten more extremes than your last pregnancy

and you are more horny than the last

Aaron would tease you to the fact that it is a twin

“mhm, fucked you so hard that it turns out to be a twin, huh mama?” he would whisper in your ears to tease you.

you are easily irritated like you always have something to say in every move your husband does and dior is just giggling beside you

“why do you sit like that?” you asked, “what’s wrong with the way I sit, honey?” he replied, eyebrow raised.

“I don’t like that color, aaron.” you scowl at him. “aw, I’m sorry sweetheart. I will go change, m’kay?”

one time you asked for aaron for a divorce so you can listen to the sad songs and relate cuz you wanna cry

he did not like that.

You really can’t sleep well because everyone and everything just gives you the ick

If you aren’t sleeping well, neither is he.

When you’re tossing and turning, he’s right there with you, sharing in your restlessness. Even if all he can offer is silent moral support, he can't truly rest knowing you're uncomfortable and exhausted. At the very least, he can help you up to pee every other hour or massage and squeeze your hips together for some much-needed relief or get you a water and your food cravings at god knows what time

If you have a sudden craving in the middle of the night, he’s the type to jump out of bed and head to the nearest store, no matter how inconvenient, just to bring you exactly what you want.

you and dior are incredibly enthusiastic about setting up the nursery, from choosing the perfect crib to painting the walls a calming color. You spend weekends together, assembling furniture and imagining the twins' arrival.

Mostly dior designing things—her passion is interior design you know.

He and dior regularly talk to your belly, telling the twins about their day, making up silly stories, and expressing their excitement to meet them. It’s a nightly ritual that always makes you smile.

He joins you in your pregnancy yoga classes, not just to support you but also to learn how to help you with stretches and breathing exercises that will make you more comfortable.

Every week, he insists on taking a photo of your growing bump, creating a beautiful timeline of your pregnancy. He loves capturing the journey and looks forward to showing the photos to the twins one day.

He sets up special nights for you, complete with foot massages, warm baths with soothing scents, and your favorite comfort foods, ensuring you feel as relaxed and loved as possible.

He never misses a prenatal appointment, always holding your hand during ultrasounds and asking questions to make sure he’s as informed and involved as possible.

When it's time for the big day (labor)

Throughout labor, Aaron whispers encouraging words, reminding you of your strength and how proud he is of you.

He massages your back and hips, just as he did during pregnancy

Between contractions, you lock eyes with Aaron, both of you silently communicating your love and support for each other.

When it’s time to push, Aaron is right there, holding your hand, counting with you, and providing support.

The moment the twins are born, you both are overwhelmed with emotion. Tears of joy and relief stream down Aaron's face as he hears their first cries.

Dior (with delalieu) is brought into the room to meet her baby brothers. She’s cautious but fascinated, gently touching their tiny hands and just staring at their little features.

She’s so fascinated and curious to the point she’s asking lots of questions like

Did I look like this when I was a baby?

When will they be able to talk and play with me?

Can I hold them? How do I do it?

Daddy, do they understand me when I talk to them?

How did they get in your tummy, Mommy? (she was so close asking where they came from and how they got into your tummy)

growing up, they are a MENACE

they are basically kenji’s karma fr

Dior is 3 years older!

Whenever you ask them who they are they just play around and its not funny

“hi, sweet boy, what’s your name?” you asked one of the twins .

“azie!” answered azrael. But when you turn to saint, asking the same question he answered “aziiee!!”

“that’s not funny, saint” your husband mused

Despite their names, Saint and Azrael are the total opposite. Saint, ironically, is the mastermind, he is NO SAINT. always the trouble maker.

Azrael, despite being named after the angel of death, is a total saint.

Azrael nicknames are; azie, and az!

Saint nickname are; santi!

you often wondered if they got switched up fr

Azrael is a shark type of baby (he’s a dolphin #1 hater so don’t go to him saying they are better than sharks. Dior and Saint def use it against him)

“Dolphins are waaaay better and cute! Look at my dolphin!” Then dior shows her pink and purple dolphin plushies that she got from barbie.

“Noooo, dolphins are evil!!” he argued and then he yapped about that issue

while saint is the dinosaur type (he knows his dinosaurs like a nursery rhyme. he used them as an insult, he often gets in trouble cuz of it)

“you’re a kid—” kenji jabbed (yes, he is having beef with a child)

“and you look like Oryctodromeus!” saint fight back, earning laughs from you and your husband.

“Saint, what did you do?”

“But daddy I just told him he looks like balaur!”

both big f1 fan, one is a max verstappen stan and one is a lewis hamilton. Guess which is which lol

Don’t ever mention Abu Dhabi 2021. Civil war will start again fr

Kenji, is their favorite target. They love sneaking up on him, setting up elaborate traps, and watching him react.

If kenji kidnapped dior when she was a kid, the twins definitely kidnapped him for funsies

that parent and teachers meeting are HELL for the both of you

they are protective over dior !!

They are her #1 defender, protector, and fan

they are very clingy, had their “no daddy, she’s our mommy!” phase

They play princesses with their big sister !

they play Barbie with their make-up story line so much DRAMA

Does her hair actually

Whenever aaron kisses you they are blocked by them

If you and aaron have a little time together with dior (like in sweet dreams) then its worse with twins hovering over you and having your attention

He’s kinda getting antsy and pouty over that fact

“hey, she’s my wife before she’s your mother!”

“That’s my wife. Look! We are married!”

Your home has evolved into a maze of hidden pranks and booby traps. Aaron, often finds himself caught in it. (It was meant for him, anyways.)

Aaron and dior often blame the twins when they make a mistake (accidentally breaking your precious plants, the vase, one of your make up, eating your sweets and etc.)

When they were in elementary school and got into trouble and more trouble slipped that needed to be signed they hid it.

Saint had presented one slipped to sign and then he mastered yours and aaron’s signature to forge in the future.

but azrael on the other hand, never presented one and made a single new signature that could be either yours or his to present to the teacher.

But when they get into really bad trouble aaron will always ask you to wait for him so he can join the twins in one of your scolding sessions.

hubby 🤍

Hey, love, i just dropped off dior into her ballet class. How did the meeting go? I am on my way home.

you

Deep trouble. We are on the way home. Take care and drive safe, honey.

hubby 🤍

Thank you, love. Wait for me before you scold them, yeah? Love you.

you

Oh I don’t think so. They really did it this time. Love you too.

hubby 🤍

my love, my gorgeous wife, my sweet darling,

I know you are angry but please let me be there when you scold them, okay? You can scold us three together.

But don’t worry! They say sorry for making you a flower bouquet (courtesy of their big sis) and letters!

Menace on social media

SCARE AWAY POTENTIAL SUITOR FOR DIOR

Uno night is at war with them

Dior would drag the boys into one of her nature trip

Whenever your husband needs to make you forgive him he has the boys as his back up

like when he serenaded you they are in the background playing instrument

Dior handling you the flowers she made

they had a tantrum for not being in you and your husband’s wedding

You and Aaron agree to not tell them who is the first one to be born so there would be no superiority. Your husband told them once they turn 18

🏷 :: @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan @nomournersonefuneral @corpsedoll777 @lilyevansstudygroup @arinexeisnotworking @reminiscentreader @seaveysoceaneyes @luvv4evaabaemh @kindnessspreads @imaseabear

to be added to my A.W tag list please let me know through my inbox, private message or comment!

[beatleskinkmeme]

Hello Beatle People!

To spread some crimble cheer, The Beatles Kink Meme is hosting the third annual Beatles Secret Santa Fanworks Exchange! Create (& receive!) a piece of fanwork: fanfic, fanart, fanvideo, or gif set!

Sign up! (Will close on October 30): give your contact info and other details about what type of gift you want to give and receive. 

Once you receive your assignment, create a gift that matches your giftee’s preferences. Remember to keep it a secret until the posting. But you can send anonymous messages to ask questions or just to wish your giftee a happy crimble! 

Have your gift completed by December 24-Jan 1 and during that time deliver your gift! You can post it to your tumblr and/or AO3 or submit it to the Beatles Kink meme. Be sure to tag your recipients.

The ao3 collection can be found here and anything posted early will not be revealed until the gift giving period.

tag your posts #beatles secret santa 2024 and tag beatleskinkmeme so we can reblog all gifts

Rules & Guidelines: 

You must have a tumblr to sign up as that will be how your assignment will be shared. Messaging and anon should be turned on to receive your info and so your gift creator can contact you! 

You don’t need to have an ao3 account but we added a question regarding this because some people have different tumblr names from ao3

You can also share your discord name especially if you're in the discord server and/or if you'd like to provide another way of contact for us

Be sure to mark all the types of gifts you would be open to receiving! 

All fanfics should have a minimum of 500 words and all gifts should be completed. No WIPs.

This is being sponsored by the good ol’ kink meme after all, so NSFW is allowed, but only if your recipient says they would like that in their gift. 

All requests do not have to be included in the gift, but just can be used as general guidelines. If you need more info from your giftee then feel free to send them an anon ask or send a message to this blog and we can reach out to your giftee to get the information! 

If for any reason you have to drop out, it’s okay! But please contact us as soon as possible so we can make sure everyone still receives a gift!

When you receive your gift, please leave a comment to thank your santa

Anyone who violated any of these rules in the previous two years or signed up and never created a gift will not be allowed to participate

Please respond to all messages within a week of receiving, even just to say, got it! We are trying to alleviate people signing up and ghosting. If there is no response, you will be removed from the event.

If you’d like a beta, please reach out to us and we may be able to help. You can also join the discord server if you have any questions or other advice. please DM beatleskinkmeme for a link 

Important Dates:

By November 6: All pairings will be assigned and information sent out via tumblr DM (you will receive a message from either @beatleskinkmeme, my main account @theoldmixer or from @dumbcloud who is my assistant elf!)

Around December 4th: We will contact you again to check in how things are going.

December 24-Jan 1: Gifts are delivered 

Feel free to submit an ask or dm beatleskinkmeme if you have any other questions!

[ailithnight]

So! Giving my reblogs to this amazing art by @providencehq their own post so I can keep adding on to this fic at my own leisure.

Please don't ask to be tagged. I'm relegated to mobile and simply cannot keep up with a taglist. All additions will be going in the reblogs on this post, though. So feel free to come back here periodically to see if I've added more.

I'm currently up to 3 chunks with 1 more in planning.

So, without further ado:

Caught and Content

Daniel James Fenton had died at 14.

And every day since then he has counted as a blessing. Especially the good ones, but even the bad ones. The terrible ones. The days so horrid that Danny wouldn’t wish them on the worst beings in the universe. Danny treasured them still. Because every breath, every too slow heart beat, even the ones that pulsed with terror and exhaustion and agony, every one was a miracle. A moment of life that Daniel James Fenton wasn’t meant to have any more.

Borrowed time.

That’s what it was.

Danny had been living on borrowed time since he was 14. And he had long since made peace with the fact that his borrowed time would some day run out.

He’s 20 now. 6 whole years he wasn’t meant to live but did anyway.

A few more months and Danny would be 21, old enough to buy his first alcoholic drink. But even if he lived that long now, he wouldn’t get the chance. The GIW would ensure that. Tuck had celebrated his 21st a couple months ago, and Sam a few months before him. Danny would never get to celebrate his with them.

But that was okay. As said, Danny had long since made peace with the uncertain nature of his borrowed time. He didn’t need to go out to a bar with his friends and celebrate that he had survived 21 whole years. It would have been a lie anyway.

Daniel James Fenton had died when he was 14.

He was in the Watchtower now. Power suppression cuffs and collar making his already battered body feel even more weak and achy. Batman was staring at him. Superman and Wonder Woman seemed to be telling him things. Or asking. Interrogating. Danny paid them no mind. No answer he’d given them before seemed to satisfy. And he already knew what would come next.

These were government sanctioned heros. They were bound to the law. And the law said Danny must be turned over to the GIW. And since Danny had already escaped them and his parents once, he doubted they’d be keen to lock him up again. Research be damned, Phantom was too dangerous to be left alive. Or whatever facsimile of alive Danny existed in right now. Daniel James Fenton had died when he was 14.

So Danny ignored the government sanctioned superheros. He didn’t let his mind wander to tomorrows he’d never have. He had made peace with his death. So now he took every moment left of his breathing beating blessing to turn his gaze out the large Watchtower window.

Nothing else mattered as Danny beheld, breathed in, drowned in the last he’d ever see of the infinite beauty of the cosmos. He let himself relax, smile, and relish in the miracle of being here, of being allowed to see it one last time. And up so close, too.

And when the heros grew tired of Danny’s distraction. When they led him to a new room without any windows to peer out of. Danny stayed relaxed. Stayed smiling. He closed his eyes and waited for his borrowed time to run out. Even as Batman stared and Superman and Wonder Woman interrogated and the power suppression devices drained him of excess energy and he’s pretty sure the GIW were on their way to arrange his execution; he was contented.

Danny was not afraid. He was happy. At peace. Why would he be scared? After all, Daniel James Fenton had died at 14. Every moment since has been a blessing he has been grateful to have.

Because

Daniel James Fenton had died at 14.

[dixons-sunshine]

You hummed quietly to yourself in the kitchen of the small two-story house you and Daryl occupied in Alexandria. After a harsh, intense period of fighting with not only the undead but the Saviours as well, it was nice to have some semblance of peace in the aftermath. It had been a grueling process to rebuild the remains of Alexandria from the ground up, but with the help from everyone in the community, as well as from people in other communities as well, Alexandria stood tall and proud once again. With all the houses rebuilt and with additional houses built as well, you and Daryl had opted to claim one of the smaller properties as your own, a sanctuary away from the bustling crowd of Alexandria after an exhausting day.

The paragraph of my first ever work in the The Walking Dead writing community. The story that kick-started this blog into what it is today. in SICKNESS and in health, posted February 25th 2024. Honestly, it feels like a lifetime and no time at all has passed since then. It’s such a surreal feeling.

When I wrote that story, I definitely did not expect anything to come of it. I remember being on season seven at the time of writing that, and feeling my heart break with what happened to Daryl in the sanctuary. I wrote that little comfort fic for myself at first, just to feel better about the hurt that was season 7, but then I thought “hey. I might as well post it. I’m sure someone out there will enjoy it.” And that’s what I did. I posted it and exited Tumblr directly after, and did not touch it again for a whole day. And when I did…

I saw my notifications showing me a bright blue ‘99+’. And I had gained a whole 20 followers, putting my follower count at the time at 29. Seeing that made my heart burst with joy. I could not believe that people were actually enjoying what I wrote. Also, I remember scrolling through my notifications and stopping dead in my tracks when I saw that @angelwings-crossbowstrings, aka one of the people whose stories inspired me to try my hand at writing for Daryl in the first place, had not only liked it, but reblogged it and followed me. My poor mom got bombarded with “holy shit, this amazing writer just followed me!” messages that day. She had no idea what I was yapping about, but she was supportive.

After that, I tried it again. Wrote something, posted it, and it got notes. And then again. I wrote my first installment for my “Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU” as my third ever fic, which is still my most popular series to date. That fic also served as the gateway to people sending me their amazing ideas via requests.

And the hits just kept on coming after that. And I still can’t believe that I get to say that people like my writing. Take that, my third grade English teacher.

This year had its ups, and it definitely had its downs. Due to the fact that I was so excited to get this blog up and running, I pushed myself too hard a lot of times, and I have burnt myself out on more than one occasion. I told myself that if I didn’t pump out fics every day, people would be disappointed in me. I had set high expectations for myself, and I felt so bad when I couldn’t live up to them. However, through lots of reassurance and guidance, I realized that it was unhealthy for me, mentally speaking. I was pushing myself way too hard, and I needed to slow down if I wanted to keep the fun of writing alive for me.

This year, I also had a moment where I was scared. I found something that made me realize that my blog could have potentially been the next target for a known plagiarist, and it made me fearful. I pour my heart and soul into every story that I write, so having the safety that I associate with writing threatened was a terrifying thing. However, thanks to the vigilant creators behind the @fanfic-plagiarism-watchdog blog, my worries were settled. (Although I still keep my eyes peeled for any suspicious activity on that other blog.)

Now, for the ups. Let’s get the negativity out of here. We’re ending this year with a bang.

I never celebrated this, but I reached 1k followers this year! It happened so quickly, I barely had time to register and think of how to celebrate it. At the time of posting this, I’m a little less than 70 followers away from 2k, and I just wanna say thank you to each and every one of you for deciding to stick around. Your love and support means the world to me.

I had a work of mine surpass 2000 notes! That number is still so surreal to me, oh my god.

Not something writing related, but I moved this year. It was definitely a good decision and I don’t regret it at all. It was hard moving everything from one house to the next, but in the end, it was definitely worth it.

I also met some amazing people because of this blog. I still can’t believe that I get to say that I know them on a somewhat personal level. @lazyneonrabbitt, @angelwings-crossbowstrings, @enlightndone, @shadowcitrine, @dixondystopia, @dix0nvix3n, @deansapplepie, @snailss, @remnantsofsleep and @yevmarie.

And I can not forget about my girl @holdmytesseract. You’re one of my absolute favourite people ever and I love you. Keep being your awesome self, sweetheart.

And @thevegandarkelf. I still can’t believe that I get to talk to her on a daily basis. What started out with a comment about how our angels (our OCs, Vec and Georgie) would have been friends in an alternate universe spiraled into, if I may be so bold, a friendship. Taylor has become a huge part of my day-to-day life, and I honestly can’t believe that I get to just text you randomly throughout the day about anything at all. I love you.

I would also like to give the biggest of thanks to @daryl-dixon-daydreams. Her fic entitled “Plan A” was the first ever work of Daryl I read here on Tumblr, and she was one of my biggest inspirations to start writing after my long hiatus. So thank you for blessing us with your amazing writing, and I can’t wait to read more of what you put out.

Now, to finish this off, I thought I’d give my personal favourite fics I wrote this year:

Daryl Dixon:

Hazelnut—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Was It was Boogeyman?—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams—Young!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Needs To Be Perfect—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Crushes Are For School Girls—Daryl Dixon x Georgianna Hawkins (OC)

Scud Frohmeyer:

Look At Me—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Perfect End—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Performance—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Murphy MacManus:

Make A Move—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

The Safety—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Irish Man In A Closet—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Thank you all so much for sticking with me this year. I love each and every one of you so much, and I can’t wait to embark into the new year with all of you.

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, and happy new year in advance!

[not-freyja]

LU Write-A-Thon

This our second monthly LU Write-A-Thon, spearheaded by @hotcheetohatredwastaken and myself, will run on July 1, 2024 from 12 am to 12 am GMT (7pm to 7pm EST starting June 30). There is one goal in mind with this event---write as many productive words within that day as humanly possible.

Originally a fun game amongst friends, we are now opening this up to the general fandom-body-public (and happily so) by popular demand!

The event will be hosted on discord, and the link will go out via a reblog/reply/edit combo on this post a few hours before the event starts.

We're so excited to have all of you come and write with us, and the event rules are right here blow the cut:

What counts as writing?

Writing fanfiction or original fiction, leaving or answering comments, outlining, drafting, storyboarding, personal journaling, and (writing) homework---basically, anything that furthered yourself, the LU writing community at large, or your stories with a positive word count, can be included in your final word count.

(Editing previously-written works can also be included, but only if it produces a positive word count, and only those new words may be counted. The goal is to get new words on the page).

What CANNOT be counted as writing?

General chatting, talking about already written works, etc, will not count towards your final word count. Words counted must, as previously stated, further yourself, the writing community, or your stories. This does not mean that you can't chat with your fellow writers---the ⁠⁠chaos-chat thread was created for such a purpose!---but the main goal of this event is to produce and engage in writing in one form or another.

What is a sprint, and what is the schedule for the sprints?

Sprints are (voluntary) periods of concentration in which writers will write as much as they can within a time limit, with some friendly competition to be the one with the most words by the end of the sprint. These will be hosted in the ⁠⁠sprint-bot thread. Every hour, the times :00 to :15 will be dedicated to a 15 minute rest, and then a 45 minute sprint will run from :15 to :59. Moderators will start the sprints periodically---writers can jump in as desired.

Do you have to participate in the sprints?

No. You can write on your own if you wish, just make sure to keep track of your total and only count what is written in the window of 12am to 12am GMT (7pm to 7pm EST) on July 1. Additionally, you can write in the suggested breaks between sprints, but again, make sure to keep track of your word count on your own then.

How should I count my words?

There are two main ways that you can count your words---using the Sprinto Bot in the ⁠⁠sprint-bot channel, or keeping track of them yourself. If you are keeping track of them yourself, especially if you're counting words other than fiction writing where your word count is easy to find, please take care to be as accurate as possible---you can use an application like Google Docs or Word to give you your exact word count, even if you have to copy and paste your ao3 comments into them to get it.

If you're handwriting, this gets a little bit rougher to calculate, but we'll encourage you to give it your best estimate.

We'll be on the honor system here: play fair, and report as accurately as possible.

Where/When should I report my words?

Final word counts will be reported in the ⁠⁠word-count-total channel. We encourage you to make ONE post at the beginning of the marathon with your word count; then, as the event continues, you can edit your post and update your word count there.

You can update your word count at any point during the marathon in the channel mentioned above---in fact, the breaks between sprints would be a great time. And once the event is over, there's a period of grace of up to 6 hours for everyone to get their word counts in, but no more writing is allowed during this time. After 6 hours (6 am GMT; 11pm EST), the thread will be locked, and no more additions will be made. So be sure to get your final count in as soon as possible, once the event is over (or even before, if you must dip early).

What if I can only write a little?

That is fine. We are going to be playfully competitive, but it is not a contest---it is a group project. We are using teamwork to make the line go up. Every word counts, and any amount of writing is a fantastic amount of writing. The goal is to do better than last time AS A GROUP, not individually. So do what you can, and be sure to have fun with the rest of us!

WORD COUNT TO BEAT: 88,978

[juletheghoul]

AN: The gif of this man as a sheriff, sent my ass into a SPIRAL and this is what happened. I originally wanted to post this for my birthday, but with Canadian Thanksgiving falling on the same weekend there was no way I would have been able to finish lol. I am still trying to post more often, please be patient with me, hopefully this makes up for the lack of posting for the last few weeks. Special thanks to @wheresarizona for betaing and just general wonderfulness, to @just-here-for-the-moment for screaming at me through comments and in whatsapp over this, and to @frannyzooey for screaming at me through discord lol (And for making me some super awesome edits that I will post after!) Hope you enjoy xox. 

(PS, I have an idea for a part 2, let me know if you’d want to read it!)

Pairing; Sheriff Frankie Morales x f!reader (Blue / Bluebell as a nickname)

Warnings;  sweet, lovestruck Frankie needs his own warning I think-piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy like the champion he is, a non-consensual creampie, angst, longing, yearning, some violence (involving guns / war, accurate for the time period-I tried not to let it get too gory or graphic) brothel mentions - let me know if I missed anything.

Word count; 13k 😅

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

Dust swirled around him as he made his way into town from the train station, the sun beating down on his every step, and although he hadn’t been home in over a decade, he still knew the way just as well as if he’d never left. Difference was he’d left practically a boy, and now he’d come back a man. 

People he both did and didn’t recognize passed him as he carried his suitcase down the sunny high street, some of them smiled, most of them ignored him. It made no difference to him. He would be their new sheriff just the same. Besides, there was only one person he cared to see again. There would be time enough for that later, though. First, he had to get settled. 

The brothel was busy, a surefire sign of the town’s growth evident in the number of horses tied up in front. 

“Well, hey there, sugar–” He tipped his hat and smiled at the young lady calling out to him, smiling as she leaned against one of the columns flanking the entrance, “-you coming to make a woman out of me?” She batted her big eyes at him. 

“Don’t count on it.” His tone was polite, his smile in place. She tsked, giggling at his manners before being called away by someone inside.

Sweat was starting to collect on his brow with the effort of lugging his suitcase all the way from the train station, and he let out a relieved sigh when he finally stepped through the doors of the sheriff's office. It was somehow even hotter on the inside. 

“Can I help you?” A kid no older than he’d been when he’d left greeted him from one of the two desks in the small room. 

“I’m Francisco Morales, I’m here to see–”

“He’s here to see me, he’s my replacement.” A grizzled but familiar voice sounded from behind him, “You’re early.” The older man walked past him on his way to the second, bigger desk, where he put his cowboy hat down before turning to face him once more. “I was under the impression you’d be here by the end of this month. You in that much of a hurry to retire me, boy?” 

He set the suitcase down before wiping at the back of his neck with his handkerchief. 

“No sir, just wanted to get settled in, have some time to reacquaint myself.” He put the cloth away. “Fix up the house before starting. Thought I’d check in with you first, though.” He’d gotten in plenty of trouble growing up, and most of the time, this man had been the one to pull him by his ear and make him smarten up. It was a novelty to be in this office and not be in trouble. 

“Well, you’ve checked. Go on and get settled. The desk and the badge will still be here in a week.” Sheriff Carson had always been one to speak plainly, and he did so now. 

“Yes, sir.” Francisco picked the suitcase back up and braced himself for the glaring rays that would greet him just outside. 

“Son,” He turned at the sound of the old man’s voice, “I was sorry to hear about your folks. They were good people.” He nodded back at the old man once and made his way back out the door.

—

“Try again.” You crossed your arms, “We both know I’m not paying that much.” You kept both your voice and expression as neutral as you could, keeping your real interest in the supplies he had close to your chest. Interest and necessity always cost more. 

He narrowed his eyes, and you raised your eyebrows in return, holding your ground. 

“Price is an even one hundred dollars; had to ride halfway around the world to get most of it-” You curled your lip in disgust.

“Bullshit, Dale! You rode to the nearest town, and that’s only a day's ride at the most. I’ll pay fifty, and that’s twice what it’s worth.” 

“You tryna rob me, woman?” He crossed his arms, mirroring you, “I’ll go down to eighty, but that’s final.” He rose to his full height, his posture making him look like some giant, petulant child. 

“Seventy-five. And I want some tobacco.” 

“Goddamn, you drive a hard bargain. Fine.” He extended his hand, and you shook it with a satisfied smile. 

“Good man. Pleasure doin’ business with you.”

“Yeah, yeah, robbin’ me more like.” He grumbled good-naturedly and unloaded the supplies while you counted out the money to pay him with. “Goin’ back in a couple weeks, make sure you let me know what you’ll be needin’ before I go.” He tucked the money away and left. The rest of the morning was spent restocking the various bottles and cabinets with your new stock.

It was therapeutic, sitting behind the big mahogany counter to take inventory of your shop. The shop that had taken you years to finally acquire. Every so often, you took stock of all the work you’d put into it and felt a significant amount of pride in what you’d accomplished. All of it done on your own. 

The customers came and went throughout the day, buying tinctures and tonics, and you helped them all to the best of your ability until the end of the day eventually found you, and you locked up the shop. With a final sweep to ensure everything was in its right place before closing up for the night.

The sun was blessedly low as you made your way home, but the streets were busy. Ethel, the youngest and friendliest of the girls who worked in the brothel a few doors down from your shop, was smoking her pipe on the porch, waving and smiling as you passed. 

“Hey Ethel, how you keeping?” You called out to her, “Fall in love again today?” She laughed, a plume of smoke wreathing around the halo of her hair. 

“Of course, saw a tall drink of water today. Think I’m gonna marry him.” She winked, a devilish smile on her pretty face. 

“Uh oh, sounds like he’s in trouble.” You laughed, waving as you passed by the house. 

“He will be if he ever comes in here, bye Honey, see you later.” 

The buildings thinned as you moved further and further away from the main street, giving you a clearer view of the surrounding ranches and houses scattered throughout the plains. Your own house came into view, and you smiled to see it. The view of it had the pride swelling again; it had been run down and ragged when you’d purchased it, but money wasn’t the only thing you’d invested. That house was the result of your blood, sweat, and tears. Hours and hours of elbow grease, blisters, and bruises, cuts, and had you not been very careful, it would have cost you a few broken bones as well. 

There was another house on the way to yours though, one that wiped the smile right off your face as you passed it. It was a house that drew your eye no matter how many times you walked past, no matter how many times you tried to ignore it. It was empty now, but years ago, it had been full of life, full of love and mischief and happiness. It had been full of hope and promises. It was empty now, one of the windows broken, much like the promises had been. 

You couldn’t help but watch it as you passed; something flashed in the window, but you ignored it. There hadn’t been anyone there for years. 

Wish it would just burn down or sell. Wish the ground would open up and swallow it whole. 

Your feet ache when you finally make it to your house, eager to unlace the boots imprisoning them. You did your best to hurry through all your chores and feed yourself, the promise of a hot bath and sweet-smelling soap carrying you through. 

—

The house was so much worse than he’d thought it would be, and he’d thought it’d be bad. A couple of windows had broken, and half a town's worth of dirt and dust had blown in through them. He sighed at the state of it, knowing his mother would never have let it get this bad, and for once, he was grateful she wasn’t around to see it. 

He set his suitcase down and made a mental list of what needed to be done. First thing first, he needed a few things. 

With a wagon full of supplies and considerably less money in his pocket, he began the long process of making it habitable. With a stiff brush and an even stiffer broom, the dirt was returned to its rightful place outside the house. The windows that weren’t broken were opened to let in fresh air, and floors and counters were washed. Food and supplies were put away; the bed was made with new, expensive sheets and linens. 

He worked his fingers to the bone throughout the day and most of the night until he’d done as much as he could. There was nothing to be done about the windows; the glass had been ordered, but it would be a few days, possibly even weeks, until he could fix those. 

By the time he’d boiled water to bathe himself with, he could barely keep his eyes open, and once clean, he dropped into bed and into the sweet abyss of sleep. 

-

It was strange for him to wake up in the same house he’d grown up in, even stranger for him to wake up in the bedroom his parents had owned. He’d been so dead tired that he’d forgotten to close the shutters, and the room was flooded with the golden light of dawn, chasing away any and all hope for a few extra hours of rest. 

Those earlier years were vivid in his mind now that he was here, in this house. He could practically hear the younger, wilder version of himself climbing out his window to go find her. Could still taste the stolen kisses in his mouth, could still hear her delighted laugh when he’d wrap her up in his arms and declare his undying love.  

He rose, trying and failing to leave the memories of her behind, and got ready for the day. The coffee he’d bought from the general store wasn’t half bad, and he drank the whole pot with gusto, making a mental note to make sure he picked up some more before he ran out. 

The current sheriff didn’t want him underfoot while he settled his affairs, and he didn’t plan on making Carson’s life harder, but he did want to reacquaint himself with the town he’d soon be the law in. He figured the best way to do that would be to go into the businesses and talk to the people, and make his presence known. 

You should be looking for her, give her an explanation–demand one in return. 

He shook his head, ignoring the rational part of his brain. After all, he didn’t even know if she was still here. He thought about her as he left his house, imagining he could see the two of them as they’d been before. He, in his transition into manhood, her in the bloom of her youth, the two of them inseparable. The ghosts caught up to him though, and then he saw her–the real her, standing just outside the apothecary, waving someone away. 

She saw him too, and his heart raced. She was even more beautiful to him than he remembered; it was as though for a brief moment, all of the years between them melted away. 

A very brief moment. 

The look of shock and hurt, and what he hoped had been love on her face was replaced with a look that, thankfully, could not hurt him. It was pure and unadulterated anger, no–fury. 

His legs moved, bringing him towards her. This was definitely not how he wanted this meeting to go. He just hoped she’d listen, but judging by the way she stuck up her middle finger at him, it didn’t look good. 

–

The nerve of him. The unmitigated gall! 

“Wait–” His voice sounded as you turned to make your way back inside the shop. 

“No!” You yelled back over your shoulder, not even bothering to face him, even as your heart raced to see him again. 

“Goddamnit, woman, wait! Let me talk to you–” He was closer than you thought, barely managing to avoid you slamming the door in his face. 

“Don’t you ‘woman’ me, Francisco Morales!” you yelled up into his handsome face, hating how gorgeous he looked, how his neck- one of your favourite parts of him- stared you in the face. “Do me a favour and take off for another fifteen years. Leave me be.” 

“Come on, Bluebell, you gotta let me explain.” He managed to slip through the doors before you had a chance to lock them, but it didn’t matter, the pet name he called you stopped you in your tracks and rocketed the fury to new heights. 

“Bluebell?” You couldn’t hide the edge of violence in your voice, “How dare you call me that? I am nothing but a stranger to you at this point. You lost any and all privileges to call me anything at all when you left.” He was taller than when he left, but his eyes still burned into yours the way they’d done when you were young and in love. 

It would make you laugh if you weren’t still so hurt about how everything had gone down. The way he was standing in front of you, hands on his hips, frustrated frown in place. You didn’t give him an inch, but it hurt to admit just how badly you’d missed him. You shooed the swirl of feelings for him away, focusing on the one easiest to deal with: anger.

“Will you listen to me at least?” 

“Why should I?” You turned from him, busying yourself with putting a few of your jars back in their place. 

“Well, because I owe you an explanation–” You let out a bark of cruel laughter.

“That’s an understatement.”

“-I know, I always intended on coming back for you. You have to know that.”

“Do I? Do I just have to know that Francisco?” You all but slammed the jar into its slot on the big cabinet, taking up the whole wall behind the counter. “You know, you have some goddamn nerve–” the little bell above the door jingled when the Sheriff walked in, his bushy, white eyebrows raised into his hairline as the look on your face. It didn’t take an overly in-depth investigation to see that Francisco wasn’t exactly in your good books.

“You never could stay out of trouble, could you, son?” He moved past him to stand at the counter before you, “You want me to come back later, sweetheart?” 

You sighed, doing your best to smile at the older man. 

“Not at all. I have the tonic ready; give me just a moment to wrap it up for you.” You did your best to smile and ignore the big, aggravatingly effective puppy dog eyes shining at you from your peripheral. “Here you are, Sherriff, that’ll be thirty-five cents.” He dug into his pocket, counting out the right amount and handing it over before thanking you and turning to leave.

“You make sure you let me know if you need anything–” He gave Francisco a frown, “-and I mean anything.” 

“Yes sir, thank you.” With another jingle, he was gone, but other customers made their way inside, and Francisco sighed. 

“You can go ahead and leave. I am at my place of business.” 

“I will come and find you later. Then we can actually talk.” He took a few steps back, his hand on the door handle. 

“I won’t hold my breath.”

—

Much to his annoyance, the sheriff was waiting for him outside of the apothecary. 

“Can I help you with something, sir?” He spoke the words through a tired sigh. 

“Boy, I do believe that woman hates you.” 

“No sir, that woman loves me. If she hated me, she would have shot me.” He moved away from the sheriff, ignoring the raucous laughter that followed his every step. He ignored it and set about doing what he needed to do, telling himself that he’d be able to deal with it later when she let him explain himself. It made no matter what he told himself, though, his mind wouldn’t let her go. 

Instead of using the time productively, he found himself counting the hours until she closed up the shop, loitering around the door like some lovestruck teenager. He scoffed to himself, ignoring the cloying heat of the sun. Isn’t that all he was? Just some lovestruck fool? She couldn’t know that, though, not with the way things had gone down. 

Any hope he had of her cooling down throughout the day died at the narrowing of her eyes, her expression now as she locked the apothecary door so different from the one that had kept him going throughout the years he’d spent away. 

“Still here, shocking.” She waltzed past him, “Just leave me be.”

“I can’t do that., I need you to listen to me.” It took him a few long strides to catch up with her, “Can I please just explain?”

“Why? What does it matter at this point? I don’t want to hear you–” He stood in her way, blocking her path on the dusty sidewalk.

“Listen! Please!” He held onto her arms, keeping her still so he could look into her eyes. “I know you aren’t happy with me–” She scoffed, and he spoke over her, “I know, but you have to know that I missed you all this time. I didn’t want it to happen like this, but I can’t help that now.” She shrugged out of his grip, crossing her arms. 

“You okay, Honey? This man botherin’ you?” An older woman shouted from the porch of the brothel, her hand on the gun at her hip. 

“No, Ma’am, I’m fine. I know him–well, I knew him.” She turned towards the madam and smiled, “I got it under control.” She sighed and walked around him, turning to him after a few steps. “You have until I get home.” 

He rushed behind her and kept the smile to himself.

“I see you’ve done really well for yourself. It makes me really happy to see how you’ve been–” 

“This isn’t an explanation. You’re wasting your time with flattery I won’t respond to.” 

“Right, I’m sorry.” He frowned, trying to keep pace with her. “I sent you letters–”

“You sent me a few letters, all of which I responded to.” She spoke loudly, cutting him off. “A few letters in almost fifteen years–”

“I sent you dozens of letters.” It was his turn to frown and her turn to slow down, “I wrote to you as often as I could, even after I stopped getting your responses.” He knew he wasn’t exactly the kind of man her parents had wanted her to end up with. He remembered the sour looks on their faces when he’d come calling.

“I got a few letters the first year and then nothing else.” Her expression was wary, her eyes narrowed. “Did you really write to me? Or are you saying that so I’ll forgive you?” She crossed her arms, stopping to gauge the truth in his words. 

“I wrote to you for years, figured I would have to come and talk to you in person, but then I thought maybe you’d met someone else, or moved away, or worse. Then I told myself I’d come and find you, but life is the way it is, and things got in the way. When I heard they needed a new sheriff, I sent word to Carson to see if he’d consider hiring me–I was shocked when he responded yes.” She stared at him, eyes bright but mistrustful. “I swear on my mother's grave.” He took her hand, holding it to his heart. “I should have come sooner-” She pulled her hand away gently, fire still burning in her gaze, but now it was coloured with sadness as well as fury. 

“Yes, yes, you should have.” She sighed and continued walking towards their homes, “I am so angry at you, Francisco. I am angry you left and angry you came back.” She looked away from him, her hands flying to her face momentarily before facing forward again. 

“I know.” His house came into view, and he fought the urge to invite her in. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.” She didn’t respond, only kept her eyes forward. “What time do you leave in the morning?”

“What?” She frowned.

“What time do you usually leave? I’m not sure what time the Apothecary opens–”

“It opens at eight, but I like to get there early. Why?” 

“May I accompany you? I would like to walk with you if I could.” He knew she wouldn’t forgive him so quickly. Her fiery temper was one of the things he’d always loved about her. 

“You want to walk me? I am fully capable-”

“I never said you weren’t. I would still like to walk with you. I’ve missed talking to you, it would be a nice way to…reconnect.” He chanced a smile, hoping it would still have the effect it used to. 

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t smile in return. Her house was closer now, his time with her coming to an end for the day. 

“I suppose I cannot stop you.” It wasn’t a yes, but it definitely wasn’t a no.

“See you tomorrow then, goodnight Bluebell.” He stopped a few yards from her door, waiting until she was safely tucked inside before turning and going home.

-

The moon was high when you finally dug out the letters you’d hidden away deep in the chest at the end of your bed. The paper had yellowed, and you didn’t even bother getting up off the floor. With shaky hands, you untied the little bundle and spread them out in front of you, trying your hardest not to tear up at the little hearts and flowers he’d drawn in the curled-up corners. 

My Dearest Bluebell, 

I cannot even begin to tell you how much I miss you. Things here move so quickly, but I’m doing so much, making more money than I’ve ever seen! More than enough for us to start our lives together–

You pushed the letter away, finally letting go of the sob that had been squatting in your throat since seeing him earlier that morning. The love he’d had was so evident in his scratchy script, and the pain of his apparent silence reared its head in your soul to see it again after all of the years you’d survived without him. The last letter he’d sent held no clue as to why he’d ever stop writing, and now a nagging suspicion filled the corners of your mind. 

Your mother had made it more than clear that Francisco wasn’t her first choice for you. She’d treated him less than kindly whenever he came calling, would turn up her nose at him whenever she’d seen the two of you together, and had smiled a big, cruel smile at the news that he’d be leaving. Would she have gone so far as to hide letters from him? Something in your heart said yes. 

Suddenly, it was too much to see his words surrounding you, and you gathered them up hastily, tossing them back into the chest before surrendering to the exhaustion in your heart and in your bones and getting into bed. You tried to think about something else as you lay there, anything else–but he kept popping up, making you wonder–against your will–whether or not he’d actually be there in the morning.

-

He didn’t let you wonder.

His heavy knock made you practically jump out of your skin as you did your best to tie the laces of your corset. You chewed on your bottom lip, annoyed with how you rushed to throw on your dressing robe, sighing at the speed with which you made it to the door. 

He smiled as you opened the door, testing every measure of self-control you’d built up in his absence with a single dimple. 

“You’re here.” 

“Yes, just like I said–I figured it would be best to be early.” His gaze raked over you in your half-dressed state, “You look lovely.” 

“Sure I do.” You scoffed, “I need more time. I usually leave a little later.” He scratched at the back of his neck, unsure what to say, and you had to work extra hard to keep from laughing at him. “Come in then. You can wait in the kitchen while I finish getting dressed.” You turned and left then, leaving him to close the door. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

You kept the door slightly ajar in your bedroom, your heart racing to know that after all this time–he was in the same house as you. You shook your head, shooing away the novelty of his presence to call up the anger and the fury that had kept you from falling apart in his absence. 

“The house looks great!” He called from the kitchen, “You shoulda seen the state of mine when I got here.”

You bit your lip, relishing the deep tones of his voice as they filled the house. 

“Still haven’t been able to fix the windows–had half a desert's worth of sand in the house. Took me forever to clean it.” He continued speaking as you finished dressing, completely unaware of the way you contemplated whether or not to use some of your very pricey, very precious perfume. You ignored the disappointed little voice in your head as you dabbed a few drops behind your ears and on the inside of your wrists. 

“-hopefully, they'll come in by the end of the week-” He was still speaking when you made your way back into the kitchen where he sat at your little table, the long lines of him entirely too big and too wonderful for the tiny space. 

“Have you eaten?” You cut off his speech, pulling down the cast iron pan from the rack above the woodfire stove.

“I, uh, I had some coffee.” 

“So, no?” You shoved some kindling into the open door of the oven, striking a match to light it. 

“Well, no–”

“Okay then.” There was enough time, and you got to work. 

“Can I help?”

“No–actually, yes. You can go fetch some water from the well out back.” You shoved the big kettle into his hands and sent him on his way, where he went without comment. 

Soon enough, you had biscuits baking and coffee brewing, and the house smelled better than any perfume you could buy. You once again ignored the little voice, the one that curiously sounded like your mother when you put out both the butter and the jam. 

When they were out of the oven and steaming, you couldn’t help but smile at how well they'd turned out. 

“It smells like heaven in here.” You could practically hear him drooling, and it was with a great sense of both satisfaction and pride that you watched him throw caution to the wind and eat one without waiting for it to cool down. He moaned at the first bite, making your heart soar and silencing the mean little voice. 

“You like them?” You had to hear it, had to hear the words in his voice.

“Like them? Honey, I’d kill for them.” You narrowed your eyes at him but let the endearment go without comment. Already, you were softening up for him. “I could eat this whole goddamn plate.” He pulled another one open, no doubt burning the tips of his fingers but continuing on just the same, slathering it with both butter and jam before taking a huge, steam-filled bite. 

You ate yours slower, unsure what you liked best, the biscuit or watching him eat. 

He poured you a cup of coffee before pouring one for himself, and for a moment, your heart shattered at how right it felt to have him here. For the first time since he’d left, you let yourself feel just how lonely you’d been without him. 

“I know you’re angry with me.” He put the remnants of his biscuit down, “I know you think I abandoned you, picked up and found a new life outside of this place, but you have to know–” He reached over, taking your hand in his, “I never stopped thinking about you.” The tears flowed without your permission, what felt like years worth of them dripping steadily onto the bodice of your dress. “I have loved you since I was a boy, and I should have come back the second I thought something was wrong. I’ll never forgive myself for letting you worry or letting you imagine for a single moment that you weren’t everything to me. I know it’ll take time for you to trust me again, but I’ll work as hard as I can.”

You wanted to rip your hand away, to scream in his face and tell him to give you peace, but you couldn’t. Instead, you let the tears fall, let him stand and tentatively pull you towards him, let him crush you in the first hug you’ve had in years. For a moment, it’s as though you cannot get close enough, your hands like claws digging into the fabric of his overcoat, knuckles cramping from the force of your grip, and he sighs into your hair. The relief of the painfully familiar smell of him is so great that it almost knocks you off your feet. 

When you finally push him away, you know your eyes are puffy. 

“I believe you–” He smiles through his own tears, “-but I am still angry. I cannot just let go of my hurt. Not so quickly.” It takes everything in you, but you untangle yourself from him softly. “I have been living in this for so long, I don’t even know how to stop feeling this way.” The handkerchief that usually lived in your pocket made itself useful now. “I don’t even know where to begin. I loved you so much–” His face contorted in pain, the use of the word in the past tense like a stab to his heart. “-I don’t think I ever stopped. It’s the reason it hurts so much.” He let out a shaky breath, smiling a watery smile. 

“I know, I’ll work for it, I promise.” 

“I know.” 

–

He felt like he was flying. His steps were so light, surely he’d grown wings. He knew it was going to be a long road for them, but for the first time in years, he had hope. 

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face throughout the day, the feel of her in his arms, the smell of her in his nose, all of it made him feel like any errant puff of wind would blow him away. He had a skip in his step as he made his way over to the Sheriff's office, uncaring whether the man wanted him there or not. He had to keep his time away from her occupied with something, and learning what it took to do his job effectively was the next best thing. 

“I haven’t seen that look on your face in years, it meant trouble back then, and I doubt it’s changed.” Sheriff Carson frowned at him, “Your house all fixed up then?” He didn’t stop what he was doing, instead continuing as he spoke. 

“As fixed as it can be, sir, until the replacement window panes come in.” He sat in the chair in front of Carson without invitation. The man only grunted in response. 

“I want to start early, get a feel for what you do so I can do it properly.” At this, the older man looked up. 

“I know I wasn’t the easiest kid–” The older man scoffed at that but let him continue. “-Yes, yes, I know. I was a helion. I’m a man now, and I’ve grown up. I just want to keep this town safe, want to do my job.” The older man's eyes narrowed, and Francisco frowned. “Why did you say yes when I applied?”

“Part curiosity, part hope, I guess.” He set the pen down, leaning back in his chair, his arms coming to rest crossed on his belly. “You’ve always been a smart kid, Frank, and if you really are as grown up as I think you are, I think you got the makings to be a great sheriff. Especially if you’re anything like your daddy.” It was probably the nicest thing Carson had ever said to him. He didn’t know how to respond. 

“I just don’t want you to hurt that girl–” He raised his hands to forestall any response, “I know what you felt for her was real, but she was a shell when you left, and I don’t want to see her like that again. We clear?”

“Yes, sir. I’m here. I’m home for good.”

“Good, now let's get to work.”

-

Francisco was no stranger to hard work, but Carson seemed determined to make him jump through every single hoop in order to prove he could do this job. It didn’t deter him in the slightest, not with the promise of the life he’d always wanted so close on the horizon. Instead, he took notes, followed Carson, did everything he asked, and paid as much attention as he could, but secretly counted the hours until he would see her again. 

He heard the gunshots as he organized the disaster that was Carson’s filing system. 

“Suppose you oughta come with.” Carson slipped his holster on, handing a gun to him before leading the way toward the sound. 

A half-naked man was rolling around on the ground just outside the brothel, clutching at a blood-soaked arm. His eyes were wild with pain and anger, and he only seemed to get more frantic at the sight of the two of them approaching. 

“Sheriff! Arrest that woman!” He pointed with his good hand at the young woman on the porch. “Crazy bitch shot my damn arm-” 

“You put your hands on me, and you lose your hand! Them’s my rules!” She was screaming mad, a painful-looking shiner blooming on her pale face. 

“Enough!” Carson’s voice rang out loud enough to silence everyone within earshot, “Now–Who’s gonna tell me what happened? I can listen, or I can arrest the lot of you and be done with it.” He rested his weight on one leg, hand resting on the gun at his hip. 

The madame stepped out from behind the younger woman, her face austere. 

“I think it’s pretty obvious; he took a liberty, smacked my girl around, and he got bit.” She put her arm around the younger woman's shoulder. “Ethel is one of my best. Now she’s got this to deal with. He’s lucky she didn’t shoot his pecker off.” The man scoffed, pulling his shirt on as best he could before moving towards the women. 

“I don’t think so, pal,” Francisco spoke directly to him, pulling his own gun and holding it at his side in warning.

“I got witnesses, Carson. Lock this fucker up, and let us get back to work.”

“I’ll need to come in and get some statements, Mabel. You know that as well as I do. Frank, take this moron over to get patched up.” 

“So I’m just gonna lose my fuckin’ hand!?” He was incensed. 

“Lucky you didn’t lose your life. Now get out of my sight. I’m gonna give you until sundown to be out of here; if not, you can spend an undetermined amount of time in my jailhouse.” Carson’s voice held no room for anything but complete obedience, and after a tense moment, all of the air went out of him, and he let Francisco lead him toward the town physician. 

-

You tried not to be upset when he wasn’t waiting for you outside the apothecary at the end of the day; after all, he hadn’t said he would be. Instead, you locked up as usual and set about making your way home.

“Bluebell!” His voice rang out from behind you, making your head whip around. Your frown turned from annoyance to worry at the sight of dried blood on the white of his shirt. Your hands clutched at the collar of his shirt before you had a chance to catch yourself. 

“What happened?” Any and all propriety went right out the window with how frantically you pulled at his layers to see where the blood had come from. “Did you get hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine–it’s not mine.” there was something in his voice that brought you back to your senses, a tenderness that pierced the very heart of you. His hands held onto yours for a moment before you pulled them away slowly. 

“Oh. I’m glad.”

“There was some trouble at the brothel. One of the girls shot some idiot who got handsy. I had to bring him to the physician.” The thought of him anywhere near the brothel made your hackles rise. You stamped the feeling away and continued your walk back home. He fell into step beside you. “What was that?” His smile was big now.

“What was what?”

“That look you just gave me.” He bumped his shoulder into yours, and you frowned. 

“What are you talking about? I didn't give you any look.” 

“You gave me a look, Blue, when I said the word brothel, a jealous look.” His smile was so wide you wanted to smack him. 

“I did not. You are free to do as you please. We aren’t married.” You kept your eyes on the horizon and did your best to ignore the bark of laughter he let out beside you. 

“Fine, I’ll drop it. I got no business in a brothel anyway. Even if I’m not married, yet.” 

You sighed, ignoring just how right he was. 

There was a man with a wagon waiting just outside his house as you passed it. 

“Can I help you?” He called out to the man outside his house. You can’t help but notice how he put himself between you and the stranger. 

“I have some window panes to deliver.” He walked around to the back of the wagon, uncovering it to show the cargo 

“Oh! Yes, I’ll take those.” He jogged over to the man, helping to bring the glass inside. You followed him despite yourself, unable to keep the frown off your face at the state of his home. You were still looking around when everything had been brought inside, and the man had been sent away. “It still needs work, but at least the windows will be intact.” You could see how he surveyed his home, his eye just as critical if not more than yours.

You set down your things. 

“Need to boil some water.” You hauled out the biggest pot you could find. 

“What?” He came over and took the pot from you, putting it onto the stove for you. 

“We need to boil water to clean these floors, and we should wash these windows too.” 

“Yes, but I can do it–” 

“Francisco. Go get water so we can boil it and get this place in order.” You raised your eyebrows at him and relished the way he watched you. He’d always liked it when you were assertive. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled before heading out to his own well. 

Once the water was boiled, you got to work with a stiff brush while he set about replacing the broken windows. It wasn’t easy work, getting down on your knees to scrub the years worth of dirt and dust out of every nook and cranny embedded in the floorboards. It was worth it, though, to look up every so often and see the hard lines of him working, both his jacket and waistcoat shed and thrown onto a chair; his shirtsleeves rolled up. 

He’d always been beautiful to you, with his big brown eyes and his golden skin, the maddening dimple, even the curve in his nose. He was even more gorgeous now, with age and experience etched on his face, even hardened, he could still make you swoon. 

You gasped at the sting, snatching your hand back cat-quick. Blood beaded on your finger and dripped down onto the freshly washed floor, an errant piece of broken glass sitting on the floor. It was a few seconds before he was gathering you up from off the floor and guiding you to one of the chairs. 

“I’m okay, just a little cut.” He moved away for a moment, moving towards the back of the house. “Really, Frankie, I’m fine.” He came back with a few pieces of clean linen and a little jar of something clear; you can only imagine what it is.

“I know. I still want to clean and wrap it, though.” He set his things down, moving to the remaining boiled water on the stove to dampen one of the pieces of cloth, using it to clean the wound before opening the little jar. His eyes found yours then– ”You gonna be brave for me?” He held it over the cut, waiting for you to answer. “It’s going to hurt, but I know you’re gonna be good for me.” He winked and then splashed a little bit of the moonshine onto it. He may as well have stuck a hot poker into your hand. “There there, Blue, almost done.” 

By the time the stinging abates, your finger is wrapped up, and any evidence of injury is gone. 

“Thank you.” You held your hand close to your chest, ignoring the way it shook a bit. 

“Of course, I think we’re done for today. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I would like for you to eat something.” He pulled out what looked like some crusty bread and some dry meat. “It’s not much, but it’s what I have for right now.” He set it down in front of you, giving you everything he had to offer, and for the first time in years, you smiled at him. 

“Are you done with the windows?” 

“Yes, I just need to get rid of these broken pieces.”  He gestured to the pile on the counter. 

“Okay, let's go back to my place. I can make us dinner.” You stood to move, and he followed you, protesting for a moment. 

“But your hand–”

“My hand is fine. Let’s go.” You moved to pick up your things, but he stopped you, gently knocking your hand aside to carry them for you.

-

The stew came together as quickly as it could with the way your hand throbbed. The bread, too, and soon enough, you were both sitting at the table eating the steaming food quietly. He ate with gusto, and you wondered briefly if he’d been eating well in his time away. He looked strong, but then again, he’d always been broad. 

He pushed his bowl away with a dreamy smile, his hands coming to rest on his belly. 

“That was the best thing I’ve eaten since I left. Aside from the biscuits this morning, I mean.”

“I’m glad.” You finished eating as he sat there, enjoying his company far more than you’d ever admit. Once you were done, he grabbed your bowl and put it into the sink, pouring some of the leftover well water to begin cleaning up. “You don’t have to do that–”

“I know. You don’t have to feed me either. I’ll just clean these and then get out of your hair.” You sighed, knowing you wouldn’t convince him otherwise. 

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, you’ve fed me better today than in the whole time I was gone.” You smiled to yourself, half exhilarated, half annoyed at just how much your anger at him had crumbled. “Okay-” He set the last plate on the drying rack before drying his hands, “-I desperately need a bath. I’ll get out of your way. See you tomorrow morning?” 

“If you want.” You followed behind him, trying your hardest to keep the hope out of your voice. 

“Of course, I want to see you tomorrow.” He moved in quickly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you had time to protest. “Goodnight Blue.” With a smile and a wink, he’s gone. 

-

Weeks passed, and it could not be said that Francisco Morales wasn’t a persistent man. No matter how hard you tried to hang onto that anger, he excelled in chipping away at it. He was true to his word about working on building back the trust that had been lost, spending any time away from his work with Carson split between you, and working on his house. 

He’d become quite the handyman in his time away, and he showcased that in the work he did in both his house and yours. He’d noticed your laundry line had broken and fixed it aggravatingly quickly. He spotted a few leaky spots in your roof and had them fixed at no cost to you, making you wonder just how much money he’d made while away. Aside from the windows and the cleaning you’d both done at his place, he’d replaced the more rundown furniture, and while it was missing some of the personal touches of his mother–it was definitely comfortable and livable once again. 

The intense loneliness and craving for intimacy had also hit you full force with his return. You found yourself thinking back to how things had been when you’d been young and wildly in love with each other. How his mouth had always found yours, how he seemed to need to be close to you, his arm often around your shoulder, his hand always finding a way to clasp yours. 

It was worse at night when other memories floated out of the isthmus of your mind, filling it with the visions of him above you, his tongue in your mouth, and his cock deep inside. You’d been young but eager to explore one another, and he had been nothing if not resourceful in finding any and all opportunities to get you out of your clothing. Now, the days were filled with new tortures, and you found yourself feeling jealous of the beads of sweat that rolled down his back, envious of the way his shirts seemed to hold him so tightly. 

The way his eyes tracked you didn’t help the situation; they were just as wild, just as beautiful, and just as open and honest as they’d always been. His desire for you shining out at you through their honeyed gaze. 

He’d been busy that morning, well and truly the sheriff now, and with that came more time away, giving you, in turn, more time alone. Or so you’d thought. The knock was loud, solid, and instantly, you knew it was him. You groaned, staring at the perfectly steaming water of the tub surrounding you. 

“Not now, Frankie!” You called out to him from the back of the house–hoping for a moment he’d let you enjoy the sweet steam surrounding you. His knock came again, and you huffed, stepping out of the oasis and wrapping yourself up in your dressing gown. “Frankie, I’m kind of in the middle of something–” You opened the door to him, and instantly, his gaze raked over you, no doubt seeing the way the damp fabric clung to your body, leaving nothing to the imagination. The dumbstruck look on his face filled you with such satisfaction that you let him look his fill before moving your eyes to bring his attention back up. “Can I help you with something?” 

“Uh–” He stumbled for a moment, his eyes moving back down to where the gown split, to where your leg and most of your thigh peeked through. “Um–I uh…”

“...You…?”

“Um…Sorry. I brought you a gift.” He shook his head for a minute before decidedly looking you in the eye. “I remember I took your copy; brought you a new one.” He held the book out to you, and for a moment, you forgot to be alluring. 

“Jane Eyre?” You grabbed the book, opening it up quickly. 

“I remember you reading it to me; thought maybe I could read it to you sometime.” His dimple shined, and you couldn’t help but leap into his arms. 

“Oh, Frankie, I love it! I have been looking for a copy forever!” You pressed your face into his neck and relished how tightly he held onto you in return, relished the feeling of his nose buried in the crook of your neck.

“God, Blue, you smell good enough to eat.” His words, his voice, they ran down your spine like a drop of ice on a hot day, hardening your nipples and making you ache for him. You pulled away, biting your lip as you stared at his mouth.

“You could come in… and read to me?” He smiled and closed the door. “I was just in the bath. I could get in and cover myself with a cloth. You could read to me while I bathe.” He nodded slowly, gulping before following you, making sure to grab a chair on his way. 

“Give me one minute to get in.” You closed the door, heart thumping at how the colour had gone out of his eyes, leaving them blown black. Within a few tense moments, you were back in the tub with the hangover of the lining cloth covering you under the milky, soapy water. “Okay–come in.” 

He looked almost pained as he pulled up the chair beside you, his eyes once again greedy in their quest to map whatever part of you he could see, which admittedly is more than you planned to show him with how transparent the lining is. 

“Shall I start at the beginning?” He flipped open the book, but his eyes were still locked on you. 

“Yes, please.”

“Very well.” He took a deep breath, and began, his deep, soothing voice the perfect accompaniment to the steaming water.

“Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day–Oh, sorry, I already read that.” You smiled to yourself, enjoying the way he couldn’t seem to focus, the way he kept losing his place, and admittedly, it took everything in you not to pull him into the tub with you. 

“That’s okay. Can you help me with this?” You offered him the soapy washcloth, “My back? It’s so hard to get it on my own.” You batted your eyes at him, smiling the smile he’d never been able to resist, hoping it still worked its magic on him. 

“Let me rinse my hands first. I don’t want to muddy up this paradise.” He knocked the chair over in his haste to reach the washbasin you had on the counter. By the time he was finished and righting his seat, he had shed his topmost layers and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his biceps. 

You leaned forward, giving him access to the skin of your back and sighing at the closeness of him when he pressed the soapy cloth to it. 

“God, I missed you, Blue.” He rubbed at your shoulders slowly, his other hand slipping around to hold the top of your chest, just beneath the dip at the bottom of your throat. “Missed touching you, feeling you, kissing you.”

Your eyes closed, and you thought surely he must feel the way your heart raced just under your skin when his fingers curled softly around your neck. 

“Been dying to kiss you for years.” You felt then how the cloth had been discarded, and his bare hand spanned the smooth skin of your back, massaging at your shoulders and the top of your spine. “You ever miss me like that?” His voice was a soft rasp now, lulling you up and back into his hand, letting the linen go and looking up into his eyes. 

“Yes–I do, Frankie–all the time.” You bit your lip, staring at his mouth as he spoke. 

“Can I kiss you?” He moved forward an inch, leaning in as his hands worked their spell against your skin. 

“Yes-” You barely whispered the word before he pressed his mouth to yours softly. It was tender and oh so familiar, the way his lips moved against yours, his tongue seeking entrance and gaining it just like he’d done so many times before. Your kiss was a dance, the steps of which neither of you had ever forgotten. It ached, the way his mouth claimed yours, and you couldn’t help but lean into him, to reach up and hold onto him as he groaned into the kiss. 

“I have been dreaming about this since I left–” He spoke between kisses, pressing them to your face, before licking into your mouth once more, “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, chasing his mouth again. His hand slipped down, slick with soap, and then he held onto your breast, kneading one and then the other, his thumb strumming against the sensitive buds while your cunt leaked for him. His eyes moved, watching himself touch you, his lip caught between his teeth,and all of a sudden, it was too much, and you move, pulling away and standing, naked as the day you were born. 

“Take me to bed, Frankie.” He stared up at you from his place on the chair, and from the look on his face, you’d think he was looking at an angel. It didn’t last, though; within seconds, he was up and pulling you out of the tub, practically dragging you towards your bedroom. 

Your breath came out in a huff when you landed on your back, smiling breathlessly at the look of pure hunger on his face. He chewed his lip as he pulled off his layers, going through them quick enough that you genuinely worried he’d rip them. The water that had clung to your skin from the bath, now seeped into the sheets underneath you as you watched him undress. 

“I’m so fucking hard for you, Blue.” He kicked his denim off, tossing everything every which way, “So hard it hurts.” His cock bobbed as he finally crawled his way over to you, and it was then that you saw it, a significant scar on his side, like a starburst. Your hand reached out, and you pressed your fingers to it, looking into his eyes for an explanation. 

He pulled your hand up and kissed the tips of your fingers, “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” He continued his pilgrimage across your body, stopping only to kiss your sternum, your hip, and the soft skin of your belly. “I missed seeing you like this so much-“ he opened your legs, groaning at the way your cunt glistened for him. “-I missed how fucking wet you get, how good you taste-“ he barely finished speaking before he dove in, his tongue parting you further, gliding over your clit with desperation. 

“I missed you-oh-“ his hands clutched at your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth, pulling the strings of your arousal to pool for his tongue. “That feels so fucking good, Frankie—“ Your hands found the short crop of his hair, unsure of whether you wanted to pull him up or grind against him. He huffed a cocky laugh into your skin, doubling his efforts and tightening his grip on your thighs, his fingers indented into the skin. The steady glide of his tongue against your clit, up and down, up and down, has you falling over the edge of the cliff and your thighs clamping around his head.

It didn't stop him; his tongue kept moving, slower as you rode out your high. He bit at the plump of your inner thigh as you relaxed, smiling and shiny with your arousal.

“I missed that too.” He moved, pressing his lips to your belly again, moving up and licking a hot stripe between your breasts before slotting his hips between your legs. His skin was so warm, so welcome, that you couldn’t help but sigh and pull him close, your fingers curling into his hair. 

“I wanted you to come back so badly-“ You covered every inch of his face in kisses, “Wanted you to stay with me, love me like this.” You licked into his mouth, tasting yourself in the kiss.

“I’m here, Honey, I’ll never leave you again-“ You can feel just how hard his cock is as it pressed into your belly, the two of you clinging to one another in the dying light of the day. 

“Promise me, promise me you won’t leave me.” You reached down and wrapped your hand around the sizable heft of him, stroking slowly while positioning him at your entrance.

“Fuck-I promise baby, I promise you-“ His sentence ended in a filthy moan as you pulled him in with your heels, pressing into the meat of his ass, finally having him inside you again after everything. 

You moaned at the way he filled you.

The last fifteen years melted away, the long stretch of loneliness feeling more and more like a dream with every deep stroke of his cock. 

There were no more words, only whimpers from you and deep groans from him. There was the rhythmic rocking of your bed and the slick sounds of him moving between your legs. His hips snapped faster and faster as he chased his release, burying his face into the crook of your neck to feed all the delicious sounds he made directly into your ear.

“I’m so close, touch yourself—“ his voice sounded wrecked, moving his hips like a piston, his cock kissing that one spot only he ever found. You obey and reach down to swirl your fingers around your clit, rocketing yourself closer to another, more intense orgasm. 

He moved his face down, holding onto your breast to suck on your nipple, and then the dam broke, and you clenched around him, moaning his name as you reached your peak. 

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s so good, oh god—I’m gonna come-“ his hips sped up, the wet sounds of his thrusts louder after your second climax. You opened your legs wide, giving him space to move, but he stayed put.

“Frankie-“ You started to speak, trying to guide him to spill on your belly; still, he didn’t move. Instead, he pushed in deep, groaning loudly, and it was with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you felt him twitch inside. 

You were frozen in place, momentarily shocked into silence.

“God—I’ve been dreaming of that for years.” He sounded drunk, pulling out of you with a hiss to take a good look at his handiwork. 

“Francisco, did you just do what I think you did?” Your tone was devoid of any sweetness. “Did you just spill inside me?” 

“Yes—“ he frowned, confusion colouring his face along with the flush of his exertion, “—I thought you’d forgiven me? We’re together again-“

“And me forgiving you means risking a baby?” You pulled away, wiggling out from under him to grab a linen shift from your drawer. 

“Wait, Blue, come back.” He moved to sit at the edge of the bed, “I’m sorry I didn’t think. It just felt right.” 

“Of course it felt right to you. You have no regard for how I might feel.” Your anger burned through you, where once there had been passion, it was now replaced with fear. A deep fear that the next time he decided to up and leave, it might not just be you waiting for him. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, that’s not true-“

“I’d like you to leave.” Hot tears flowed down your face at the thought of being pregnant with his child, and alone, waiting to see how long it took him to return the second time.

“Baby, please—don’t make me leave, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that—“

“Leave! I want to be alone. Please just–just go home.” You wiped at your eyes before crossing your arms, doing your absolute best to avoid his gaze. He sighed loudly, moving slowly to gather his things, stopping only to put on his pants and his shirt before tucking tail and heading home.

-

He’d fucking blown it. 

By some miracle, he’d managed to get into her good books, his persistence and determination to show her just how madly in love with her he was–how in love with her he’d always been–weeks worth of it, and he’d messed up in a few minutes. A few glorious, amazing minutes. 

He couldn’t help but groan in annoyance with himself every time he remembered it, the euphoria of being with her again, being inside her, of having her wet and needy and so eager for him only to get lost in it and risk a baby they hadn’t yet discussed. Hadn’t even really discussed getting married, not since he’d come back. 

He didn’t even know why he’d thought it’d be okay. It had been purely instinctual but also irresponsible and disrespectful. It shamed him that he couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop craving it. He ignored it, though, continued on with showing her his reliability and hoped she understood that she was all he wanted. 

-

Sleep eluded you for days, refusing to find you until the blood came. It wasn’t much better when it finally did, though. There was the initial relief, of course, there would be no child born out of wedlock, and you would not be treated like a pariah, but where did that leave you? He apologized for it, constantly. He groveled, he begged for your time and for your love and forgiveness, and it was his. It was there–ready for him, but the fear hid it away. 

No matter how consistent he’d been in his time back, no matter how much he’d assured and explained that he wasn’t going to leave, it still felt like there was a clock ticking somewhere you couldn’t see, counting down the seconds until you’d be alone again. 

You tried to focus on other things, filling your days with organizing your home, with clearing out things that no longer served you, things that you had brought over from when your mother died and had actively ignored or hidden away until genuinely forgotten. There were old, moth-eaten rags that had once been her clothes, a few books, and an old hairbrush. Amongst her things, though, was a bundle of paper, a fat wad of it. 

Confused, you pulled it apart and very quickly realized that they were letters and they were addressed to you. It was jarring to see your name in Frankie’s script and harrowing to realize that you’d had them the whole time without knowing. 

With shaking hands, you opened them one by one, and by the third, the tears obscured your vision. 

My Dearest Bluebell, 

I know you must be angry with me, things aren’t moving as quickly as they should, but this changes nothing–I’m still coming home to you–

He talked about his time in the war, about how differently they did things where he was, and about how much money he was saving, but between all that was the same promise of return. It was everywhere, that–and his pleas for a response from you. 

Please sweetheart, I need to hear from you, please let me know you’re okay, and that you don’t hate me–

You sobbed into them. The words were like wounds, the pain of being alone for so long is even sharper now than it had been before. He had been true to his word, writing letter after letter without a single word from you, and despite the pain of knowing that fact, you read every single one. The dates were consistent, every week, almost like clockwork, except for once–when there were a few months between two letters. 

Bluebell, my love, 

I am okay–but I was hurt. I barely remember what happened, but one minute I’m in the middle of it, fighting, and the next minute I was screaming and then blackness, until I woke up in a hospital. Nurse says I’m lucky to be alive and that I’m going to be okay–

It was too much, all of it, and despite the fact that it was late and he was most certainly asleep, you had to see him. 

The moon followed you on your walk towards his house, lighting the path and keeping you company. There was a soft glow shining out from one of his windows, and it inspired hope, making it easier to knock on the door despite the hour. 

There was movement on the other side of the door, his heavy footsteps padding across the old floorboards.

“Who’s there?” Suspicion threaded thickly through his words, and you couldn’t blame him; this was no hour for anyone to come calling.

“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?” Your voice was shaky, the tears had abated while you made your way over, but the worried look on his face when he opened the door threatened to let them flow once more.

“What’s the matter? What happened?” He was shirtless, holding his pistol at his side while he looked beyond you to inspect the horizon. “Come in, come in—“ He closed the door behind you, setting the pistol down with a frown. “What’s the matter, Blue? Why are you out at this hour?” 

“I—“ you choked on the word, clutching at his letters, “Frankie, I found them, my mother—“ you sobbed out words, choking on them before he sighed. 

“Oh Honey, please don’t cry.” He gathered you up, pulling you into the strong cage of his arms, and it was like the floodgates cracked open wide. One palm held the back of your head, and the other was wrapped around your waist. “You didn’t know, it’s okay.”

“I, I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry,” your voice cracked with the agony of all of the lost years, “you wrote so many letters, and I never answered any of them, and you got hurt—oh god, you could have died!” It was hard to tell if you were screaming or sobbing anymore.

“Hey! Hey! Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he rubbed your back, a soothing gesture, “Hey, stop, stop, take a deep breath, I’m fine. I survived. There was nothing you could have done. I know you would have written to me if you’d gotten my letters, if you knew.” He pressed his lips to your temple. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner. I shouldn’t have left without you.” 

“I should have known she’d do something like this. I–” You pulled away to look up into his eyes, “I am so angry at her. She let you carry on, just hid them without a care–even though she knew I was heartbroken.” You brushed his hair back before hugging him again. 

“She never did like me. It was pretty cruel of her to do that to both of us.” He was being much more gracious about it than he should have, a testament to his love for you that he didn’t want to bash your mother despite the damage she’d done. 

“Miserable old bitch.” You had no qualms about calling her what she was. 

“Forget about her. It’s okay now. Thankfully, we’re together again.” He grabbed his pistol and led you further into the house. 

-

Your fingers drew the shapeless pattern onto the warm skin of his chest for what must have been the hundredth time since the both of you tumbled into his bed an hour ago. It was still pitch black outside, the only light being a candle on his bedside. The sun would creep in soon enough, though, and when it did, it would find the two of you clinging to one another. 

“I hate that you went through this alone.” Your fingers migrated down to the starburst on the side of his lower stomach, tracing the edges of it softly. 

“I’m lucky, I made a full recovery.” His voice was soft, “I saw others get much worse.”

“That doesn’t minimize this, Francisco, you could have died out there, and I never would have known.” You squeezed your eyes together for a moment, ignoring the implications, “Can you ever forgive me? For not writing?” 

“Only if you can find it in you to forgive me for being away so long and for what happened.” He pulled your hand up, pressing your knuckles to his lips.

“You’re forgiven for everything.” You frowned, “We hadn’t discussed our future, everything was still so up in the air, and I was terrified to get pregnant. Not because I don’t want to have your children, I was just terrified you'd leave me again and then I'd be here, alone and with a baby.” His face fell, guilt swirling around his features. “That was before. I believe you when you say you won’t and that you’re here for good.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, then to his lips.

“I understand why that would have scared you. I shouldn’t have done it without permission, though. It was careless of me.” He pulled you closer, relishing in the contact just like he had in the early days. There was a beat, a comfortable silence, and it stretched on for a while, the two of you content to lay there until the stiffness of your dress pulled you away. He helped you take it off until you were in your simple shift, and then you took your place beside him once more.

“Francisco?” You murmured, wondering if he’d fallen asleep.

“Yes?”

“I never said, but I’m sorry about your parents.” He’d been gone for years when they passed. 

“Me too.” He didn’t say more, and you didn’t press. “You should get some rest. Will you stay with me?”

“Yes, I don’t want to go.” He got up for a moment, pulling the rest of his layers off before blowing out the candle.

“Good, I didn’t want you to leave.” He slipped into the bed, pulling his sheet over the both of you before pulling you in close. “Goodnight, Honey.”

“Goodnight, Frankie.” 

-

The sun shone bright enough to shoo the last vestiges of sleep away. It found you warm and comfortable under the comforting weight of his arm over your belly and his leg tangled with yours. He looked younger, asleep and you could almost see him just as he was when he’d left, fresh-faced and eager to see and do as much as he could. That fire for life and all it entailed, burning brightly in every expression. 

Your thumb traced the line of his jaw first, sweeping up his chin to glide across his pursed lower lip. He twitched but didn’t wake, only tightened his grip on you. Your thumb slid up, following the curve of his nose, up to smooth across his brow. 

He stirred again, humming softly before pressing closer still, burying his face into the crook of your neck and tickling you with his moustache. 

“Is it morning already?” His voice was sleepy but laced with pure joy. 

“Yes, it is. How did you sleep?” Your tone matched his, his joy was contagious, hope and happiness swirling in the air much like the dustmotes that danced in each shaft of light. Your hands had migrated down, fingers flitting across his broad back, relishing every inch, every errant freckle. 

“Better than I have in years. How about you?” His lips made their own pilgrimage, from just below your ear, down the column of your neck, and down to your shoulder; each press of his lips widening the smile on yours. 

“I slept really well. I forgot how warm you get when you sleep.” He laughed at this, good-hearted. 

“Good, means you don’t need to wear this–” His hands slid under your shift, grabbing greedily at your thighs, then your backside. 

“Very clever. Don’t you need to get up and go to work, Sheriff? Or am I under arrest?” There was no real bite behind your words. 

“Hmm, I don’t know, are you? Are you here to confess to a crime? Aside from stealing my heart, that is.” You let out a bark of laughter, rising slightly to let him take the shift off of you despite the game. 

“Is that what I’ve done? Stolen your heart?”

“Oh yes, years ago. First day you smiled at me, come to think of it.” He nodded sagely for a moment before pressing his lips to yours softly, making you both melt and drip for him. 

“Well then, I guess I deserve my punishment.” You reached down, shimmying out of your underthings to bare yourself to him. He bit his lip before dipping low to lick at the stiff peak of your breast, soft as his kiss, before taking your nipple into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks. You moaned, watching him enraptured. 

“I’ll be just and fair.” He smiled, after letting go with a pop, moving to the next one to give it the same treatment. Your fingers curled into his short crop while your thighs pressed together to alleviate the aching at your core. He sucked harder, frantically, and then there was the edge of pain when he bit softly, making you gasp for a second before he once again soothed with his tongue. 

“God, woman, you make me crazy.” His eyes were wild for a moment before he claimed your mouth again, his tongue plundering without mercy. 

“I want you, Frankie–give it to me.” You reached down to grasp him in hand, but he moved away, denying you. 

“I want to make you feel good. Let me taste you again.” He moved down, his lips mapping a course down to where you wanted him most. 

“I want you, though, Frankie, want you to make me sore. You can use your mouth later.” You held your arms out to him, and although he stared at your mound with hunger, he obeyed. 

You spread your legs for him, and he slots his hips, pulling your legs high onto his thighs for a moment before sheathing himself in you with one brutal, delicious stroke. 

“God, Frankie, you’re splitting me open.” You moaned the words into his ear, and his head dropped into your neck, groaning at your words. 

You reach down to hold onto his ass, grabbing onto it as he thrusts. 

“You want me like this? Or you want me on my knees like you used to like?” You whispered, and he moaned, his hips stuttering for a moment before pulling out. It was the only answer you needed before you moved to get into position, presenting yourself to him. 

His thighs pressed against the backs of yours, his hand landing heavy on one ass cheek before he entered you from behind. He felt deeper this way, hitting something otherworldly with each press. 

“That’s my girl, you gonna take my big dick Honey?” You moaned into your forearm, arousal burning bright as a coal in the pit of your belly from his words, from the slick sounds of your joining, from the way your nipples grazed against his bedding. 

He bent forward, pulling at your arms to hold them behind your back, and once he did, his efforts doubled. He was a piston, ramming into you hard enough to make your breasts bounce, hard enough to make you scream for him. 

He moved you again, pulling you up to meet the solid wall of his chest, his chin hooking over your shoulder, one hand holding onto your breast, the other sliding down to swirl around your clit, shoving you headlong into a blinding climax. 

“That’s it, baby, God, I can feel you squeezing my cock. Where do you want me to come? Can I come on your ass?” His words sounded frantic, and you nodded, barely whispering the words. 

“Yes, Frankie–” He let you go, and you pressed your face into the mattress once more, spreading your legs a little wider before you felt him pull out, feeling the way his hand grabbed and spread you open while the other one pumped between your legs. You felt the hot spurt of him on the cheeks of your ass and the small of your back just as you heard the filthy groan he let out. 

You both caught your breath for a moment, riding the wave of release before he moved and within a few minutes, he passed a cool, wet cloth across your skin, cleaning his mess off before discarding it and falling into bed beside you. 

There was sweat on his brow, there was sweat on yours, too, but it didn’t matter, the euphoria was rich and sweet as fresh cider. 

“I missed you so much, Frankie.” You turned to face him fully, the two of you naked and comfortable. 

“I missed you too, Honey.” He pulled you close, wrapping you up in his arms, where you belonged. 

–

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[idkmynameiskat]

you act like a nice person but you never respond to my messages

I CANNOT do this with y'all anymore. Why are half of you guys so fucking parasocial?

Let me set this straight for you people who think "I owe you" a message back or a response to your ask.

If I don't message you back, here are some reasons why:

I'm a fucking human, do you want me to show you how many messages I get a day and sometimes all at once? I literally have 200 messages just sitting in my inbox right now that have accumulated over the last year or so, and that's not even including the DM's I get daily. How is anyone supposed to possibly respond to every message unless this is their full time job?

If you are constantly trying to turn our conversations into something "sexual" or "flirty" even though I never reciprocate, I will just stop responding. I'm not fucking dumb. I'm a person who wants genuine friendships with genuine people, not someone who thinks I'm stupid enough to not realize what they're trying to do.

If you get upset or "mad" that I don't respond to your message in a few hours, you will absolutely not receive a response back, and if you keep acting upset, I will simply block you. I only have 3 people blocked, and 2 of them are because they were genuinely upset I took "too long" and had the audacity to try to make me feel bad about it. I don't owe anyone anything, and that includes a response to a message, no matter how much of a "nice guy" you think you're being.

If you only ever message me when I post a "sexy" selfie or post something about being horny, I won't respond. Again, I'm not dumb. I notice what you're trying to do.

Sometimes, I just don't want to have a conversation. Period. Whether that's on Tumblr or in real life, I am entitled to using my own free time however I want. And sometimes I just want to look and reblog dumb posts on here.

Sometimes, you guys are genuinely creepy. And simply put, no one should have to deal with that.

[fizzyxcustard]

Under Your Spell

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, insecurity, a little angst (with a happy ending)

Word count: 1571

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "You put a spell on Thorin to make him fall in love with you, but as the spell wears off, you find out that he has always loved you." Requested by @asgardianhobbit98

Written while listening to Journey's Greatest Hits.

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thank you to everyone who supported me during my posting hiatus. I felt like it was needed to get back into a better mindset after I become incredibly overwhelmed by another one of my fics' reception.

The last twenty four hours had been beyond perfect. The spell which you had been keeping for the last few months, ready for the chance to use, had worked better than you could have imagined. Thorin had declared undying love to you as the sun set; the two of you having just shared dinner together with a large group. Then once on your own together, he had been so open in his affection toward you, blushing and smiling as the words tumbled out of his mouth. 

“I love you more than anything,” he had told you, confident and bold. He had taken your hand, kissed it, then asked for you to join him on the royal balcony. 

The two of you had sipped wine, while Thorin gazed at you over the top of the glass, unable to tear his gaze from you. 

You shared tender kisses, hand holding, and Thorin had held you as you fell asleep. Then you woke in his arms, warm and content. He had been watching you, and as you woke from your slumber, he smiled at you and kissed your head. 

All of that day and you had remained in Thorin’s presence, sharing meals, conversations, kisses. 

“Would you join me again tonight on the balcony? It is forecast that we should have a clear night sky.”

“Of course,” you had replied. Only now, sadness began to seep from your words, unable to hide any further. The realisation that all of this would be over at sundown was growing heavy in your heart and gut. The spell would only last for one twenty four hour period, and could only ever be used on one person once in their life. After sundown, and Thorin would return to his former self, purely a friend to you and your King, nothing more than that. 

It was almost sundown, and you excused yourself from Thorin’s chambers, telling him that you wished to quickly write a letter to a friend. He just smiled at you, his eyes so full of adoration, as you disappeared out of the door. 

As you walked the corridors back to your bed chamber, you felt tears fall down your cheeks. The pain was so heavy and hot in your chest. Just to have Thorin adore you for twenty four hours had been perfect beyond any kind of comprehension. However, the fall back to reality was going to be excruciating. In time, another woman would have Thorin fall for them, and this time it would be of his own choice.  

You lit your candles and sat down on the edge of your bed, staring at the vase of roses that Thorin had had brought to your chamber. They could now be disposed of as they would just serve as a reminder of your pathetic need to have Thorin love you. 

All sense of time slipped away from you as you fell asleep on your bed, still fully dressed. Once you had lay out on your bed, you had not moved. Tears had flowed, pulling you into your subconscious world where you could be happy temporarily. 

Dreams came and went, flickering pictures of far off lands that you had explored with the Company, months earlier, where you had fallen for their leader. Flashes of sunlight bouncing off swords and the calls of armies became a jumble in your mind. 

Your eyes opened slowly, adjusting. The candles had gone out hours ago. There was a dull thump behind your eyes and you winced, blinking hard. 

For a second, you felt as if you were still in a dream somewhere. You could feel something resting on your waist, curled around. Blinking again, you looked down and could make out a hand. On the middle finger was a ring. 

You gasped and shifted away suddenly, almost dropping out of bed. “What?” you choked. 

Thorin was lying on your bed, and was now rousing. His eyes opened slowly and he smiled at the sight of you. “Come back to bed, my love,” he said sleepily. “It’s still early.” 

“But…how?”

He just smiled again and sat up. “You think a spell could make me love you?” 

“How did you know about it?” 

“I’ve known about it quite some time now,” he replied. “I will not name any names, but I was made aware that you acquired the spell from someone in Lake-town, did you not?”

Shame hit you hard and you lowered your head, feeling the tears fall once again. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “And now you are playing along to mock me; the spell wore off at night fall yesterday.” 

Thorin got up from the bed and followed the edge of it towards you. “Why would you think I’d ever mock you?” He stood before you, his head to once side in question and disbelief that you could ever think such a thing. 

“I was stupid to ever think you could love me,” you hissed. 

Anger flared in Thorin’s eyes and on impulse he grabbed your hip and threw you both into a kiss. It was hot, demanding, needing. So much unlike the day earlier. All you could do in your weakness was cling to him, your backside resting against your dresser. He was pressing into you harder now, his tongue desperate in your mouth. 

Thorin drew back from you, his blue eyes ablaze. They were no longer soft like the day before, but they were on fire. That had always been the true Thorin, and as you had known him for the last six months: passionate, on fire. He pressed his forehead to you and then kissed it. 

You closed your eyes as you felt his hand become buried in your hair. His other hand was still on your hip. There was a desperation in his actions. The day earlier and he had wanted to be in your company, to look upon you. Now, he needed to touch you. 

The two of you kissed again, hard and needing. You could feel your inhibitions let go, and your hands became tangled up in his hair, your breath lost, your heart pounding. 

He whispered your name, needing you. 

Within minutes and the two of you were back on your bed, disrobed and exploring each other. Thorin’s lips caressed every inch of you, and when he was kissing down the inside of your thigh, he looked up at you. “Why did you ever think you needed a spell to capture my heart? It was always yours.” 

The two of you joined, exhaling in relief at the pent up frustration. Thorin was over you, his one hand gripping yours. To feel him connected with you, feel him inside you, giving himself over to you by choice, that was the true magic. 

Your bodies were synchronised, moving together in rhythm so well. 

Each and every time Thorin’s gaze connected with yours, and you could see the love for you there. It burned. The spell you had cast had diluted his true love, and his gaze the day earlier had been as if he weren’t quite in the room with you. Now he was present for every second. 

Every thrust was now making you build upward towards climax. The sensations feeling as if waves were cascading down your body, until the last one took hold. It came from the base of your stomach, and shattered outward. You shook, and as you rode out that one spectacular wave, Thorin kept his gaze locked on you. 

The sensation of you gripping Thorin’s girth in your plateau pushed him over the edge, and he spilled. He dug his head against your neck, groaning at the wondrous pleasure that washed over him. 

Both of you fell down beside each other, panting and sweating. Thorin reached for you, and you rolled over to him, and put your head on his chest. “Is that what true love feels like?” you gasped. 

“No spell could ever replicate that,” Thorin said softly. “When you first placed the spell on me, it was as if I couldn’t control my words, and no longer could I keep my feelings for you secret. But the expression of my love for you, it…I cannot describe it. It was as if it was dulled, and when dusk came, the spell having ended, my heart and my body burned for you again, like it always had. The spell stopped me feeling that love in a true sense.” 

“Why did you never tell me how you felt?” you asked, propping yourself up on your arm. 

“I was terrified of rejection. The spell at least took away my cowardice.” 

“You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known, and yet you couldn’t tell me you loved me?” you asked, not quite able to believe such a revelation. “You lead a kingdom, and armies, yet you couldn’t tell me three simple words.” 

Thorin sighed. “You did not tell me either.” 

“I had reason not to,” you scoffed. “You’re a king. Declaring your love to a king and expecting them to love you in return is just ridiculous.” 

You saw that anger flare in Thorin’s eyes again, and his jaw clenched. “I am a king in name and by my birth right. But I am no different to you in heart. There is only one that I bow to, and that is my wife and Queen. And those positions will only ever be filled by one person…you.” 

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @middleearthpixie @linasofia @xxbyimm @luna-xial @knittastically @meganlpie @guardianofrivendell @asgardianhobbit98 @rachel1959 @mrsdurin @quiall321 @missihart23 @lemond57 @evenstaredits @catthefearless @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @glassgulls @sazzlep @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @bookworm-with-coffee @danzalladaggers @ourlonelymountain @phantomessangel @estethell @windb3ll

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @emmyspov @dumbassunderthemountain @braidedheart

Middle-earth tag list: @mismaeve @sotwk @valkyrie-of-the-light @deadlymistletoe

Special tag for this fic: @kurlyfrasier @littlesweetdressmaker

[offorestsongs]

You have been invited to the Rose Festival! (Algy's 100 followers celebration ♡)

a/n: hello!! once again, thank you so much everyone for 100 followers!! i still can't believe there's so many people out there who would enjoy my art and my OCs, especially since i've been in the community for a relatively short time. everyone's been SO sweet and supportive along the way and i appreciate all of you so so much <3 so! as my celebration, i'm finally releasing the hometown event for my OC Rosienne. hope other people will have fun with it as well!

THE SET-UP

Amongst the Shaftlands' hills, in an isolated rural area, sourronded by deep woods and golden fields, stands an old, majestic palace commonly called the Midnight Castle. According to the legend, it is the very place where the Beautiful Princess had fallen for her cursed lover. For generations now, the Midnight Palace has been in the hands of the Minuit family - according to the legend, they're the descendants of one of the servant families. The Midnight Palace now is a tourist attraction managed by the Minuits, keeping the legend alive and helping people learn more about the surrounding history. The famous Rose Festival is held every year in commemoration of the Beautiful Princess breaking the curse, and every year, Rosienne comes back home to help his dad in running it. This year though, they seem to be short on staff. But hey, what Rosienne's schoolmates are for? Without much thinking, he grabs a few people for help, including Yuu/the Prefect and Grim who got a special mission. Since Rosienne is in the school's newspaper, he had asked (very politely, totally with a chance to say no, trust me) the Prefect to take a few photos of the festival he could later use for his article. That will surely all go fine!

THE FESTIVAL

A mix between a ren fair and those Bridgerton balls, but themed after XVIII France! The guests can get a special tour of the palace focused on the legend of the Beautiful Princess, taste local food and buy hand-made souvenirs, get a lesson on manners and the fashion of the time, watch plays made by local performers and more. At the end of the festival, in the big palace ballroom, is held a ball, usually called the Rose Ball. Everyone is allowed to enter free of charge as long as they're dressed in somewhat period appropriate attire. The staff, too, is required to wear period appropriate clothing.

RULES

✦ even tho it's my follower milestone event, anyone can join!! ✦ you can enter with any type of character - Yuusonas, OCs, canon characters other than the ones i've "officially" included are all welcome!! ✦ any type of entry is welcome as well!! cards/edits/fics, whatever your heart desires <3 ✦ no NSFW ✦ in your post please link this post, tag it with #the rose festival and tag me as well so i can see it ✦ there's no deadline

DRESS CODE

anything inspired by XVIII France (with creative liberties, of course) and Beauty and the Beast inspo:

CARD BACKGROUND

(taken from the Beauty and the Beast movie ofc, edited by me!!)

PARTICIPANTS

canon characters: Vil Schoenheit, Riddle Rosehearts, Silver

OCs:

[SSR] Rosienne Minuit - me! [SSR] Astrid Primrose - @cheerleaderman [SR] Yuya Florence - @cheerleaderman [SSR] Flori Mohn-Prinz - @bunniehunn [SSR] Yumi Yozakura - @marinahavik [SSR] Silas Sanderson - @theolivetree123 [SR] Airlea Therein - @cheerleaderman [SSR] Reyu Carrera - @mirioho [SR] Erwin Coppola - @explorer-of-art [SSR] Yuri Senjougahara - @lazyea [SSR] Kimiko Shindo - @slumberingrose-fandom

REBLOGS ENCOURAGED!

(dividers.)

[certifiedsexed]

hi there! this isn’t about sex itself, but since periods are usually a part of sex ed and i’ve literally just been woken up because the cramps were bad enough, i thought i would ask — is it normal to be in a lot of pain when you’re on your period?

context: i still live with my abusive parents, who don’t let me take any kind of pain medication after a suicide attempt at thirteen, so i know that this problem might just be that i need to take a strong painkiller. also the pain doesn’t ever last more than three days? like the first three days (and sometimes the days leading up to it) of my period are always hell but then it’s fine, i have no pain afterwards.

but the problem is that the pain is… bad. like being woken up in the middle of the night because my sides hurt and my legs hurt isn’t uncommon, and there’s this weird thing where i’m scared to use the toilet during these first three days because it makes my butt and my sides hurt so much that i genuinely can’t move and have to bite myself to stop myself from screaming. sometimes i’ll be in so much pain, usually in my sides but also sometimes in my stomach or legs or my butt, that i can’t even move, so i just kind of… have to lie pressed into my bed and hold my breath.

my mother has always just told me that she had worse pain when she still used to get her period, and that i’d be completely fine if i just listened to her and used a hot water bottle (i have poor circulation, so hot/cold stuff just doesn’t really feel great for me usually), and i’ve always just kind of accepted that. i know it’s common for people who get periods to talk about how painful things like cramps are, but i genuinely usually feel so miserable for the first couple days of my period that if i don’t need to get out my bed, i literally won’t at all.

i’m just wondering… is everyone who gets periods in as much pain as i usually am, at least for the first couple days? or, since i know that people experience periods differently, are people in more/less pain than i am but it’s fine since this isn’t that bad and i should just take medication each month for it? idk, but ever since i started to get periods they’ve genuinely always made me feel so so bleak and in agony, and i’m someone i’d consider who has a maybe above ‘average’ pain tolerance (i have chronic back pain, migraines, and health issues that make it easy for me to sprain/fracture my ankles which i’ve unironically managed to do about eight times in the past two years — again, unfortunately all of this with mostly no painkillers unless i can get them from the school first aid box), so i just… don’t know anymore, but i thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.

anyways, unrelated but i really do love this blog — the reblogs are always good things to read as someone who’s still unpacking being raised by very puritanical parents, and the asks always offer good advice too, very empathetically in a way that sometimes catches me off guard (there was one post on here that was something about how the asker’s father would belittle them and i think your reply said something like ‘it’s not your fault and nothing’s wrong with that aspect of you’… which i know sounds obvious but that was something that i don’t think had ever been obvious to me ever since my father started doing the same when i was younger. it was really comforting to hear, is what i mean, and your replies often are. so thank you for that! and for the time + energy i can imagine it takes to run this, you post/rb so often!)

Hi! This is absolutely a sex ed question, you're right!

So, first, let me make one thing clear: no! You are not supposed to be in this level of pain on your period. Some pain is understandable but once it gets to the point it's bad/debilitating in Any fashion, something is going wrong.

But I also want to say, being in an abusive living situation can fuck up your periods. And so can being restricted from pain relief, which-just in case you're not aware-is another type of abuse.

But what you're talking about sounds like more than just a lack of basic pain relief. That's very disabling, even if it doesn't last long. It may be that intense reactions to periods run in your family [especially since your mother mentioned experiencing something similar] but that's still something you should be getting something like specialized pain meds for or even stopping your periods altogether.

What you're talking about, especially on top of an abusive living situation, is very unhealthy for you to have to deal with.

Not everyone is in that much pain. Some people are but that's a medical condition. It's a disability! What you're talking about is a disability. It can be caused by PMS or endometriosis or PMDD or it could even be connected to whatever causes your other chronic pain but it's still very much something your parents should be getting you checked out for.

Even if your mother had the exact same pain on her period, that doesn't mean you should have to suffer through it, especially not with her revoking your access to basic pain relief. That's all completely unacceptable and I'm sorry you're having to deal with this.

I'm not sure how helpful this is but I hope it's at least good to know the pain levels you're dealing with are unacceptable and Not "normal" period pain.

Also I'm so glad you're learning and enjoying the blog, especially the advice. I also grew up in an abusive household so to hear it's helping someone else in a similar situation means the world to me, fr. 💕 Sending love, Anon. <3