I know this is old news but - I spent this weekend in the woods and could not. Stop. Thinking. About Landon and his curly hair and beard, wearing the shit outta those furs, popping out of the trees to say hey and then seducing the fuck out of you. (I'm 100% positive this is the plot of Frontier and no one can tell me any different)
Babe let me tell you. LET ME TELL YOU.
Landon Liborion, the worlds most pure and precious fuzzy Canadian, owns my ass in such an complex way??? And I have not stopped thinking about this ask since you blessed me with it.
And the idea I’ve never seen frontier don’t @ me of him seeing you around randomly around and immediately being immersed in your presence just... WOOF
And I can just imagine like, walking through the woods or something, going to various markets and just seeing him out of the corner of your gaze, only to not be there when you look directly for him.
It becomes a mind game, your head hyper fixated on this stranger as you wander deeper and deeper to try and find him, like a childish game of hide and seek until finally you’re so far off the trails and graveled paths that you’re stuck in the woods, full of fear and confusion as to how you got there.
A branch cracks, and you dart the other way, only to trip on your feet and just barely be caught by the handsome stranger, who’s face no longer holds mischief but a mock concern for your well being.
“You came out far for such a little thing,” he teases, smiling down at you. “I thought I saw you back in the markets before I came out to hunt.” his brows raise in amusement, “you didn’t follow me, did you?”
And of course you say nothing because yes you were following him, but only because of his rapturing gaze and coy, teasing grin. You merely look down in shame, his grip on your arm tightening slightly to make you look up at him. “I can’t let you head back now; it’ll be too dark by the time we get back. Come on with me, I have plenty of food to get us through.”
You don’t want to believe him, but those blue eyes have and hold your attention so firmly that all you can do is nod but keep your feet planted in the ground. You’re but a rabbit in his trap, and he frightens you as much as he intrigues you.
“Come along, then,” he whispers wolfishly, drawing his nose up the side of your face.
“It’s alright... I’ll protect you.”
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If I wrote an mid season 1 Michael whump-fic for Frontier would anyone be interested in reading it? I have the barest outline of a story in mind but otherwise I’ll just jot it down for myself
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Sokanon: I’m proud to identify as a moronsexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Someone once asked me what the Spanish word for tortilla was once and I dreamed of kissing him under the moonlight.
Michael: What kind of animal is the Pink Panther?
Sokanon, unbuttoning her vest: Michael, you are so fucking stupid
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