#ok what did i make the tag for moots

[dearestxiao]

june i saw you on my timeline and screamed!!! how are you??!!!! i hope you’re doing well <3

CHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HI CHAAAAAAAAA!!!! I MISSED U!!!!!!!!! I'm doing good!! finals season was beating my ASS last week but now I'm finally resting and having fun getting silly on here again hehe <3. im fighting the feverant urge to spam every single little thought i have. how r u?? I hope ur doing well too!!

[localkiss]

Pray to Leon, He's Your God

pairing: kidnapper!leon x f!reader

cw: creampies, afab terms used, pet names galore, ooc leon, mean and desperate leon, power abuse, degrading, praising, god complex, religion, praying during sex, ddlg dynamics, daddy kink, dumbification, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mentions of stalking, implied drugging, nipple play, somno, rape, hickey's, squirting, aftercare, las plagas mentions, control freak Leon lol, absolutely nasty dirty talk, spit kink, oral fixation, Ashley/Spain mission mentions...lmk if I missed anything >_< !

wc: 3.5k! hehehee a shorter fic for rn !

tags: @rigorwhoring @adiorxia @angelstargel @leonkennedygvrl @dilfstar @leonsdolly @dollfacefantasy @bonnibuckets @bunnyclaire @bwruisedkiss (tagging some moots :3 sry if u don't wanna be tagged gahhhh)

a/n: i didn't proof read much .. didn't edit much .. so um ignore anything weird. If it's messy n awkward uhhh GO WITH IT OK. 😮‍💨

“Baby,” he coos in your ear. Soft and sweet like he loves you. “open up.” Coaxing your mouth open for his thumb to slip inside.

The strange man dotes on you like a long-lost lover. Your brain is too foggy to even remember where you had met him if you did that. Tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you roll your head to the side, blinking extremely slowly, taking in the room around you.

A desk with a computer, two monitors and a gun lays on it. A couple of knives and a pack of gum too. You swear you can make out your panties and bra that went missing a few weeks ago on his desk as well. Makes you frown slightly.

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth and wipes the saliva on your lips, dragging it across your cheek. Like he's dragging his cock and tapping it all over your face. Get you all messy.

You swallow thickly, head swirling, body feeling heavy and numb all at once. Tears pricking your eyes as you lay beneath the dirty blonde in confusion.

“Who..” is all you can croak out, blinking the water down your cheeks.

“Shh baby… relax. I'm here to take care of you like you should be taken care of. Mkay?” He murmurs soft and sweet. Wiping away the tears.

Only then do you realize you're naked and he's only adorned in his boxers. How long has he been waiting for you to wake up? You don't even know what day it is or the time.

Weird as it is, you find yourself relaxing under his guidance, mimicking his steady breathing.

“Want some water, honey? Just stay here and be a good girl for me, alright?” He kisses your forehead, getting up and grabbing a water bottle from his fridge. Coming back with long, quick strides. “Here, sit up and open your mouth.” Helping you sit up against the pillows.

Slowly pouring the water into your mouth. Pulling away as soon as it fills up, watching you drink it. Repeating this step a few times before he sets it next to his bed.

“Good girl.” The man hums, patting your head like you're a dog.

“Mm… who are you?” You look up at him through your eyelashes, asking the question hesitantly.

“My name's Leon, baby. Do you not remember me?’

Shaking your head, he sighs. It's not like he expected you to remember him. The two of you met briefly at some sort of party and once the both of you were drunk, you got all handsy. Wanting him to fuck you in his car.

That was like right after he got back from his mission in Spain too. He swears Ashley didn't fully kill off the plagas in his body with the machine. It's whatever. What doesn't kill him only makes him stronger, he thinks. Unless this possessive, obsessive, need for you is something else. But then he doesn't want to end up like Major Krauser, all mutated and weird. He hopes it's something else.

“S’okay. We met a couple of times at a few parties. Got to know each other a little bit and slept with each other. And you gave me your phone number… here we are.” Maybe he's lying. Maybe he's not. You'd never know the difference as it feels like it's mostly true. Which it is. But he certainly didn't get your number through legal ways.

“Okay, Leon.” You mumble, limbs barely moving as you try to turn to your side. Wanting to rest a little bit.

“Wanna sleep, baby? Cuddle up with daddy?” He coos down at you, warm hands shifting you around and pulling the blanket over the both of you. His warm toned body is behind yours as he cradles you like a baby.

Soft kisses planted on your cheeks and one on your neck. You feel your face get red hot as you nuzzle into the pillow. “Mmh,” replying to his first question with a soft grunt.

Leon hums, “Goodnight baby girl. Sweet dreams.”

You don't even bother replying. Not like you could as you find yourself instantly asleep. Feeling his warmth behind you lulls you to your dreamscape.

Not long after you fall asleep, Leon kisses his way down your body. Maneuvering you to lay on your back. You sigh and open your legs, rolling your head to the side.

He sucks on your nipples, not biting down hard enough to wake you. Just to tease your unconscious body. Swapping between the two and massaging the other one he doesn't have his mouth on. God forgive him, for he cannot wait any longer.

Trailing a wet path down to your pussy, he moves the blankets up over you both. Making sure you're nice and warm as he feasts on you. He's not going to deprive you of your rest and warmth. Leon's not that big of an asshole.

“So pretty. Pretty fucking juicy pussy. All mine.” Kissing and nipping the skin around your vulva. Leaving light marks for him to enjoy later on.

Leon kitten licks your clit, groaning as he tastes you on his tongue. Tangy but so fucking good. Heaven. God created you for him, he's sure. Kissing all over your pussy, tonguing around your opening as he feels your body automatically flutter.

It's like she knows who owns her already. That got him smiling as he licks you open slowly and teasingly. Eyes fluttering shut as he immerses himself in the feeling and warmth of your body wrapped around his head.

He sucks on your clit, gently biting down on it. Wearing it down as he takes turns licking into you and sucking on your clit like a hard candy. If you were a flavor, he'd always buy your flavor. Make it his cologne, his soap, his detergent. So he can always be enveloped in you. And only you.

Slurping up your juices as he pulls away. Kissing each thigh tenderly, as his hips rock against the bed. Tasting you makes him harder than obsidian.

That night when he got your panties and bra after you guys fucked in his car drunkenly. He held them up to his nose and sniffed them so much, that people would've thought there were cocaine remnants in them.

But no, he was just addicted to the way you smelled and tasted. The way you cried on his tongue and begged him to just fuck you already. To stop teasing you.

Did he fuck you until you saw white? Yes, very much so. Until you squirted and made his arms bleed? Yep! He even went so far as to make you cum so much you couldn't even remember his name, just, “daddy, daddy, daddyyy!” Until you became a sobbing mess for him.

Of course, he gave you what you wanted the most though! His cum deep inside of your cunt. Multiple creampies. You truly emptied his balls. Couldn't get hard for the next couple of days. Truly washed over his libido to a much calmer state of mind.

He hovers over you, making sure to bring the blankets over his broad shoulders. Shifting his boxers down low enough to get his cock and balls free. Slowly rubbing up and down your slit with his tip. He lets out a soft groan, pushing into you and gritting his teeth to not wake you up from how loud he wants to be.

“Hail Mary, full of grace…” he begins slowly, “The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Fuck.. Holy Mary, mother of—fucking—God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death.” Leaning his head down into the crook of your neck. Repeating it again and again in his mind, louder and louder each time. Drowning out all the white noise in his ears.

Maybe it's just tinnitus but he thinks it's the plagas trying to invade his mind once more. He justifies his actions by blaming it on a virus infection. Your pussy is his fix. Only if you were just a bit more submissive like you were when you were drunk, maybe he would think of you as somebody he should kneel to. To worship.

“Amen. Amen, God fucking damn.” Leon rocks in and out, matching the pace of your breathing. He moans into your ear, gripping the fat of your hips before moving his hands to push your legs up to your chest. Immediately putting you into a mating press.

Licking and nibbling on each part of your neck that is exposed to his eyes, he mumbles sweet praises to your sleeping body.

“Yeah, good girl. Taking this cock so well, hm? Yeah?”

“Fuck baby, pussy squeezin' me like she doesn't wanna let go of me.”

“Mmm.. shit. Wanna make you mine. My wife. I'll get to do this to you every day. All y’gotta do is just lay there and be pretty f’me princess.”

“Yeah, yeah… take it. So fucking cute seeing your expressions and feeling your body enjoy me while you're asleep. You thinking about me baby? Dreaming about me ruining you in your sleep while I do it in real life?”

You try to shift around in your sleep and furrow your eyebrows. Letting out a low whine as your eyes roll around before opening hesitantly. “Mmph.. Leon?”

“Awwh, good afternoon sleepyhead.” He coos down at you, peppering your cheeks in kisses, rubbing up and down your sides. “Did daddy's dick wake you up?”

“Yeah,” you flutter around his length, barely processing what's happening. Only feeling full of him and his warm body pressing you into the blankets. Hands clutching onto his firm biceps weakly, digging your blunt nails into his pale skin.

Leon laughs cruelly, his hips rabbiting into your squelching heat with vigor. Half moaning into your ear, his hot breath tickling you faintly. “Shit. Look at me, baby. Who owns you? Let me fucking know who owns this pussy.”

Whimpering, your toes curl as a heat wave of embarrassment rolls down your spine. “Unhh… you do.”

He clicks his tongue at you and stops his hips, fully deep inside of you. “That's not who I am, princess. Now say it again or I won't fuck you.”

“Daddy…”

“Yeah, that's me. Now, use your big girl words and tell me who owns this pussy baby.”

“Daddy owns this pussy. Daddy owns me…” you squeeze your legs against his sides. Impossibly tight around his cock, earning a groan from him. Nails were almost close enough to draw blood from his arms.

“Good girl. Such a smart cookie, yeah? All it took was daddy having to be a bit firm with his baby.” He presses his lips to yours, capturing you in a messy, feverish kiss. Teeth clashing as he starts to thrust in and out. Tongue swiping all across your mouth, letting you suck on it briefly before he pulls away.

One hand holding up his weight, the other one squeezing your lips together. Dipping down to spit into your mouth. Smirking as he hears your little noises of pleasure.

“Knew my baby would like that. So dirty.” He moves your face up and down, forcing you to nod. “Look, you're agreeing with me. Such a slut, eager for her daddy. Mhmm…”

Leon's lips are the only thing you can focus on. Besides his dick, of course. “Daddy,” you spread your fingers around his face. Like you're in awe of him, putting them into his mouth curiously. “please?”

He gently bites down, licking and sucking on your fingers playfully. Dark oceanic eyes narrowing and analyzing you. “Baby wants my fingers in her mouth?”

Bingo. You don't even have to respond, just the look of surprise in your eyes is enough for him. He presses a wet kiss to your palm and wrist. Slipping his thumb into your mouth as he speeds up his hips.

Cock jumps inside of you as you close your eyes. Sucking on it with fervor makes him swallow a whine of his own. God, you'll bring out the desperate whiny side of him someday.

He'll still dominate you through the whines and whimpers, of course. Can't let his precious baby try to top him. It'd be so cute.

Watching you fail and beg for daddy to take over. He'd let you try though, but he'd know he'll forever be in charge. Just lending you the ‘power’ for the moment.

“Mmhhf baby. Don't do that. Daddy's gonna shoot his load inside you early. We wouldn't want that. Ain't that right pumpkin?” Leon hums, pushing down on your tongue with his thumb. Enjoying the way you drool around it and bite on it like he's some sort of oral stress relieving toy. Or gum. Not that he minds being your fix to your oral issue.

You loosely have a grip on his arm, sort of not wanting him to leave your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes up at him, he presses his forehead against yours. Lowering his body so that he can barely pull out of you.

“Sweetheart, let daddy hold himself up with his other hand. Wanna play with your cute cunt. Make you cream all over this dick.” He pry’s himself out of your mouth, replacing it with his lips on yours. As he brings his other hand down to press tight and fast circles against your clit.

Lifting up so he can watch you fall apart on him. “Good girl. Such a sweet girl, letting her daddy do whatever he wants. Hmm? Isn't that right? Yeah,” he kisses your forehead tenderly.

At this point, you're babbling out nonsense. In your mind, you are agreeing with him. Out loud, you're saying, “daddy please.” As your walls squeeze around him tight like a vice.

He doesn't want to be too much of an asshole and make you use your dumb puppy brain, but there's a part of him that needs you to beg him to let you cum. Make you call him a God.

‘Please god, let me cum, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.’ Something along those lines will do it for him. Fill that womb up with his sticky white cum.

“Want daddy to let you cum?” Leon's gonna slowly fade into it. Have you wrapped around his little finger. Just as he is wrapped around your body like a snake does to its victim. To its food.

“Uhuh, please daddy. Wanna cum,” you mewl out shamelessly. Tears gathering up in your pretty beady eyes. Goddamn, you look gorgeous.

“C'mon puppy. Use that pretty little brain and beg daddy correctly. Daddy'll even give you a hint, baby doll. Beg for God, because aren't I the owner of you? The one who fulfills your dreams, needs, and wants? Hmm?” There's this crazy look in his eyes. Black little veins popping up in his skin, looking similarly to a dead person. But it's also fucking hot how he looks so psychotic and desperate for you. And only you.

“Daddy—God, mmmph… please let me cum. Please!” Can't help the moans escape as he smacks his fingers against your swollen, sensitive bud. Your fingernails attach themselves to his chest, dragging red welts down to his abs. Feeling them flex as he groans in pain.

“That's right bunny, that's right. Cum for me. Cream all over this fat dick,” he purrs as he spanks your clit extra hard, in time with a deeper and harder thrust.

Watching you as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth going slack. Holding you still as you tremble as you thrash around, orgasm still ringing around your body hard. Seeing you like this beneath him has his own climax running up on him. But he wants to make you watch as he fucks his cum into your womb.

“Baby,” Leon shushes, pressing faint kisses around your temples. “Look at me. Watch daddy's cock go in and out of your pretty pussy. Look at how daddy's stretching you out, baby girl. There's even a little bump from daddy.” He lifts up so you can look down between the two of you comfortably.

Still pulsing around him, he pushes down on the bulge. Listening to your cute little squeals of overstimulation. “God's gonna give you a baby now. Say, thank you, God. Thank you Leon for blessing me with your seed.” He half moans half chuckles, giving your cheek a couple of soft slaps.

“T-thank you God—Leon please… bless me with your cum…!” You sort of get it right. It's not like he's a stickler for how you say things or actually, repeat them back to him. Leon likes the control. So all is well.

He chants your name, rabbiting his hips even harder now. Eyes closed and forehead against yours. Whining as he gets closer and closer.

Leon groans as he feels your pussy greedily sucking him in. His hand immediately starts to rub your swollen nerves. “Gonna make you cum again and then I'll pump you full of it.”

You cry out, kicking and scratching at him. “S’too much! Can't cum again!” Lies. All lies.

“You can take it and you will take it. C'mon puppy. Know you can do it for me,” he coaxes another one out of you. Albeit slower this time.

Syrupy goodness coats your brain as you hiccup his name, going frigid beneath him. Oh, there you have it. Sprung a leak around his cock. You can't help but scream and hold onto him tightly. Cunt practically pushing him out because of how intense this one is.

The sight of you squirting uncontrollably has his cock kicking and spurting his hot, thick semen in your insides. Slowing his movements down he moans.

It's like it's never ending. Maybe Leon was backed up for a while and is gonna get you pregnant with triplets. Feels like it with the way he keeps pumping you full.

“Good girl. Good job. So good for me, mhmm… gonna keep you plugged up. Make sure it takes, yeah?” He coos soft and sweet, whining pathetically as his dick softens. All sensitive now.

Leon sounds so good, you think. All desperate for you.

You hum, blearily watching him maneuver the two of you around. Slumping against his chest, his warm hands soothe your sides. Giving him a soft kiss on his chest in reply. Too fuzzy-headed and dumb to even form an actual response. Not like he wanted one, it was probably more of a rhetorical question.

“That's it, baby. Rest on my chest. I'll clean us up once you're ready.” Giving the apex of your head a long kiss, he wraps his muscular arms around your frail, trembling figure.

Slowly pulling you into a deep slumber. With rainbows and sunshine.

Possibly an hour or two goes by and you wake up to warm water soothing your aching muscles. A soapy sponge rubbing your front side. Leaning back into him, you relax and let him do his thing.

“So pretty baby,” he sighs, grabbing a cup and slowly pouring it over your soapy body. Being careful not to get your face wet. “Does this feel nice?”

You nod immediately, scratching your scalp for a moment. Scooting away from him, grabbing your hair and giving him a good view of your back. Silently asking him to wash it.

The soapy sponge gently runs into your skin, over your shoulders and arms. Dipping down to your lower back before carefully going around your neck. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your head once more. Washing it all off before he lets you lay there against him.

Can't help but yawn and stretch. This is going to make you fall asleep again! “Daddy. Want to go to bed.”

“Hmm.. okay. Let's get you out of here. Daddy'll put you in the cutest outfit.” He grabs the towel and wraps it around you. Drying you off before he dries himself off. “Lift your arms for me.”

You close your eyes sleepily and lift your arms, feeling him tug a loose shirt over your head. And you instinctively lift your foot, allowing him to put panties on you and pajama pants.

Opening your eyes you see that it's Hello Kitty. Biting your lip, you watch Leon get dressed. Quietly zoning out on his chest.

Leon picks you up bridal style with ease. Despite you being a little chubby, he acts like you weigh like nothing.

“Snuggle close to daddy, sweetheart.” He sets you down, pulling the covers over the both of you. Reaching down to grab a stuffed animal he had under his bed. One he bought in advance. Thinking you'd like it.

It's a cute little shark! Leon puts it next to you as he wraps his arms around you securely. “Sweet dreams baby.”

“Sweet dreams daddy.” You mumble in return, putting the shark in your arms as you snuggle into his warm chest with a huff.

Maybe next time he'll force you on your knees and make you worship him. And if you don't do it right, he'll baptize you with his special white liquid until you immediately submit to him. To praise him as a higher being. But, first and foremost, he's your daddy, before he's your God.

[moonshapedbox]

swan shaped heart

arthur morgan x preacher’s daughter 

a/n: whew! this story is finally leaving the confines of my drafts and i’m so happy!!! it’s longer than I anticipated it would be but ultimately decided that this will be a series. longer chapter to start with to set up the storyline. extremely self indulgent bc i want a man like this. reader is pretty freaky but we’re all adults here okay sdfjkf special shoutout to @dilf-luvr-4evr who wanted me to tag her, tysm to u and to my other dear moots for hyping me up and encouraging me to write !!! ok i think that’s everything! :D

tags: reader is in her twenties, lots of fluff, hint of age gap, ton of romantic tension. no blasphemy bc i’m religious <3 hands..lots of hands (you’ll see) no smut but heavily suggestive, lots of religious themes throughout obviously, no use of y/n (I wrote in 3rd person hehe), read at ur own discretion !!!

wc: 6.5k

part one

He arrived in a little town 15 minutes outside Valentine– couldn’t remember the name of it nor did he care. Hell, he didn’t know why he was riding there or what he was going to do when he did get there, but he was exhausted from casing banks and stores, or sizing up the potential jobs in the area, he needed a place to rest.

He looks up at the sky, the sun had just gone behind the mountain; he was too far from camp to head back now, there was no reason to risk being caught in any attacks from rival gangs if he were to travel during the night. The slight breeze was cool and wet, there was rain coming. He needed to find shelter–and quick.

The town hardly changed at all since he last visited 4 years ago, maybe a fresh coat of paint on the post office or the new signage on the general store–it was like time stood still. As he rode into town, there were a few people who knew him, giving him subtle nods as he rode past, others not at all. He found some lodging to stay in overnight and took inventory of his saddlebags, counting all the things he lacked. He decided it was smart to make a run. Soon enough, he secured his horses outside the general store, only buying a couple things before he left town again in the morning, enough food to last on the trip and a new pack of smokes.

He got what he needed and packed his saddlebags– when his eyes met with the church. He wondered how she was doing, what she looked like now, if she even remembered him at all—the preacher’s daughter. He heard a lot of stories about preacher’s kids; lascivious, wild and unruly. Although she was different– an honorable woman, who took everything her father taught her to heart, and tried to be her best when the Bible instructed it. Her even-tempered and friendly demeanor was like a calming balm on his aching soul. It was something so refreshing, so sweet in comparison to the life he was living. If life was a long and painful drought, then this woman was the rain– and he needed rain desperately. 

“Mr. Morgan?” a voice broke him out of his train of thought. Mr. Morgan. That voice–he’d know that voice from anywhere. He looked back and sure enough there she was, standing there with her ruffled white dress, burgundy boots with laces wound up snug against her ankles, and a dainty swan pendant necklace that adorned her neck, glimmering in the western sun. 

He inhales into a small grin, “Well, I reckon I know you from somewhere” he smirks. “How you doin’ little lady?” She squeals loudly and hurries over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a friendly embrace, “I can’t believe you’re here I thought you’d never come back,” she says, holding onto him for a moment longer before he pulls away. “Can’t have you be huggin’ me like that in the street or else people’ll think we’re sweet on each other” he jokes. She finally steps back to look at him and there’s a beat of silence, so short that if you were to exhale you’d miss it, but Arthur picks up on it. It’s awkward, in a sweet way. She looks down for a moment before looking up at him again, “Town missed you Mr. Morgan, where you been?” she asked. 

He felt guilty at the question. He’d been robbing, scheming, hurting, killing. Although he couldn’t tell her all that, she’s a preacher’s daughter. He felt so surely that if she ever found out what he did for a living she’d shun him for the rest of his life, “Uh, work mainly. You know how it is darlin’,” he replied, putting a lit cigarette up to his lips, taking a drag. 

“How long you plannin’ on stayin’ for?” she questioned, looking at his face for any clues to why he’s here. He shrugs, honestly he wasn’t planning on staying for long at all but since she’s standing right in front of him, with big glossy eyes and the hint of her sweet orange and vanilla perfume catching every now and again with the slight breeze– he couldn’t say no. 

“Not long darlin’, just for the night and then I leave in the mornin’,” he explains, that should give him enough time to visit without raising suspicions. She flashes him a melancholic smile and nods, wishing that he’d stay longer. She never got a chance to spend any time with him when he came to visit for the first time. 

Arthur Morgan–what a man, it would be an honor to get to know him behind his mysterious and aloof nature. To know what he was thinking, what he was feeling, she wanted to be the one to break his walls and scoop into his soul. Her mind starts to race with thoughts as her eyes gloss over his features: warm dark blonde hair, big blue eyes and scruffy beard–he was perfect.

He gets even more handsome than the last time I’ve seen him. He must have a girl–there’s not a woman on earth that hasn’t claimed him for herself yet. I wonder if he thinks I'm pretty…Lord, he’s so much older, so much more experienced– what am I thinking I ain’t got a chance. 

“You okay darlin’?” his voice broke her train of thought, she watched him put the cigarette back to his lips. She nods, “You was always an inquisitive one.” she teases, trying to change the subject. He raises his eyebrows and scoffs playfully, he never thought of himself as the inquisitive type. “I could say the same for you missy…’sides why’s your Daddy lettin’ you in town all by your lonesome?”

“I’m just going to get a couple things, we ran out of some food back at the house,” she explains, kicking some of the dirt on the ground with her foot. Arthur nodded slowly, he was nervous. Why was he so nervous? Words not coming to him with such ease, that beat of familiar silence encompasses the air again. She looks over at the entrance of the general store, “Well, I guess I must go now, it was nice seeing you again, Mr. Morgan.” she softly bows her head and turns away. The sight of her leaving pains him, even if it’s just for a moment. There is something stirring in Arthur. Something big and explosive —yet strangely familiar. Before he can even think about what he’s saying, he hears the words leave his mouth, “Wait– I’ll go in with ya.” he says, stamping out his cigarette and catching up beside her, “it ain’t safe… a young lil thing like you by yourself.”

She stops and looks up at his big looming figure standing next to her, “I can manage just fine Mr. Morgan, but I will not turn down your company.” She quietly thanks the Lord under her breath and enters the store with him. She greets the shopkeeper while he follows her around, making mental notes of the stuff she’s buying, looking over her shoulder for trouble so she doesn’t have to.

“Y’know Mr. Morgan, you were our hero 4 years ago…helping us round up all our missing cattle that those awful Montgomery boys stole from us.” 

Hero? A title that he rarely heard attributed to him. Her words transported him back to that time. He couldn’t believe it had already been 4 years since a trembling, fresh faced, beautiful young woman begged him to take care of some seemingly rotten men. Men that did nothing but terrorize the town by fighting, stealing, and getting into all sorts of debauchery– including looting and descrating her father’s church. As the tears ran down her soft and supple cheeks, she didn’t know that the man she was pleading to help save them from misery– was planning to rob her townsfolk and shoot them dead if needed to. A plan that would inevitably fail, all because his heart got the best of him.

He blinked back out of thought, “It was nothin’ really. It was nice spendin’ the week in only one place for once– speakin’ of them boys; they been givin’ you any trouble lately?” he exhaled, scanning over her features. “No, you must have scared them real good Mr. Morgan, ‘cause I haven’t seen them since.” she replies, checking the pears for bruises.

Of course, because he shot them dead. 

“Well…maybe they moved away.” he gestures vaguely. She smiled politely and continued to shop for the ingredients she needed. She fidgets with her swan pendant necklace and he picks up on this small habit too–trying to etch every aspect of this woman in his mind so he’ll never forget. When she had gotten all she needed, he offered to pay for her groceries. A gesture that restored her faith in man. She insisted it wasn’t necessary but Arthur paid for them anyway. As they walk back out, they loiter around the front of the store for a moment.

 “Thank you for courting me Mr. Morgan, y’know you really didn’t have to.”

“Oh sure, I wanted to, really.” he smiles softly. 

They gaze at each other for a moment before she smiles back, “It was nice seeing you again Mr. Morgan. God bless you.” 

He nods and smiles back, watching her walk away, wicker basket of groceries cradled in the crook of her arm. He sighs to himself, it was all so soft and so sweet, truthfully, he needed this. As he began walking over to his horse, thinking over the interaction, a soft ping of metal reverberated against the wood paneling on the steps. He looks down by his foot and a glimpse of something bright catches his eye, he picks it up and studies it. 

It’s her swan pendant necklace. 

“Shit…” he mumbles to himself. He looks around the building to see if he can catch up with her but it’s too late. He sighs and gives it another look over. The picture of the elegant swan on the pendant with gold trim perfectly catching the sunlight stared back at him. It was a beautiful pendant– while her family wasn’t dirt poor, he knew her folks were certainly not rich, especially given her father’s profession. There was no way she could have the money to buy this on her own–this must have been a family heirloom. He shoves it in his pocket for safekeeping.

That evening, the rainstorm he predicted was currently pounding against the glass of the window in his room. He shuts the door behind him and thuds himself down heavily on the side of the bed. He starts to rub his eyes, watery from exhaustion, with his index finger and thumbs. The events of the day weighed heavy on him, from having to stay overnight, to having to go back to camp empty handed, it was like a weight of stress was congregating in his chest. Despite all of this, the image of her stayed in the back of his mind. She looked well off and healthy, getting to see her after so long was pleasant to say the least. He sighs deeply and kicks his boots off. 

He lays on the bed, adjusting his weight to the mattress to get comfortable. He feels something in his pockets that prod at his hip, before reaching back in only to pull out the preacher’s daughter’s necklace. While he knows it’s just an object, he shares a moment with it— reminding him of its owner. Oh how pretty she looked today, like an angel. She smelled so sweet, her smile so soft, she was divine in so many ways. He thought of how the cool enamel of the pendant would touch her warm skin. His mind starts to wander, thinking about her only wearing the pendant, how it would glimmer under the low light of a bedroom, as he caresses her soft, untouched skin. Guilt stops him for a moment, and he curses himself for thinking such a thing– this was the preacher’s daughter he was thinking about. It would never work and he knows it, she’s forbidden fruit–but there’s something that courses in his veins, something that makes his mouth water for just a small bite.

He lovingly caresses the pendant with his thumb, the ghost of a smile visits his lips. Strangely enough, he found himself dreading to give it back to her. The pendant was expensive enough that he could have just sold the damn thing and went on his way–or at least that’s what Micah would insist him to do. Although he would never inflict such cruelness on this innocent daughter of the Lord. No–he didn’t want the pendant for monetary gain, all he wanted a little memento to remember her by. He closes his eyes and places the softest kiss on the enamel of the pendant before opening his eyes again. 

“The preacher’s daughter, of all women–,” he mumbles to himself, “you sure know how to pick ‘em…don’t ya?” He exhales as he rolls over, before placing it on the nightstand. He stares at it once more before putting out the candle.

“Goodnight girl.”

The next morning, Arthur finds himself on her porch, the sun barely cracking the sky open. He knocks a rhythmic pattern on her front door, and clears his throat. He’s nervous–strangely enough. He sniffs a few times and clears his throat again. He looks down at his hands and takes another glance at the pendant, he’s shaking just a bit. He should have been back on the road by now, but here he was, waiting for the preacher’s daughter to answer the door. What was taking her so long? Maybe this was a sign from God that he should just leave and take the pendant with him–the door swings open, he shoves the pendant back into his pocket before she can see, her eyes widen at his presence.

“Mr. Morgan!” she smiles with bewilderment. Arthur looks her over– she’s stunning even for so early in the morning. He takes his gambler's hat off and holds it against his chest, “Morin’ little lady,” he responds, “I–uh, found something yesterday,” he reaches into his pocket and extends the pendant out in his hand, “I think it might be yours.”

She audibly gasps and places her hand on her chest before clutching the pendant, “Oh my stars, I have been looking for this everywhere I was sure it got lost forever!” she beams with excitement, “Praise God you found it! Where was it?” 

“Outside on the steps in front of the general store,” he replies. She lovingly stares at the pendant before looking back up at Arthur. She pauses and opens her mouth to say something, before closing it again. He cocks his head at her in confusion, she exhales and starts over, “You want to come in for a bit?”

Arthur grimaces and shakes his head, before exhaling, “Ah, I don’t know about that darlin’, I’ll gotta be gettin’ a move on. Besides I ain’t wanna intrude on y’all’s activities.” 

“Oh I insist! I know, Papa would love to see you,” she explains. Her father would love to see him? He mentally rolls his eyes at her naivety. While it was true that the preacher didn’t actively hate Arthur, he wasn’t fond of him either. She frowns at his disbelief that laid evident on his features, “Really Mr. Morgan! I’m serious, let me repay you for finding my necklace.” 

“Just a little bite before you go,” she smiles and sways her hips innocently. “I’m sure you’ll have a long journey back and you gotta eat, right?” 

He sighs and smiles softly in return, “Okay. I guess I do gotta eat…just as long as I ain’t intrudin’.” He shifts his weight on one hip.

“Not intrudin’ at all. Breakfast is almost ready, come on in and make yourself comfortable.” she stands by the door and watches his big and broad figure walk through the threshold, “You’ll have to forgive Papa for his temporary absence, he’s in his room finishing the last part of his sermon. so I’m afraid it’ll be just us for now.” she says, closing the door behind them as she leads him into the kitchen. He was more than okay with that. It was already nerve wracking enough sitting alone with her, he didn’t need anymore stress from her father picking him apart in his head, cataloging all the sins that he’s riddled with.

He looks around the living room as he follows her into the kitchen. The house is quaint yet congenial–just how he would imagine a pastor to live. The scent of breakfast wafting through the air was wonderful, he hadn’t had a proper meal in days. He does what she says and makes himself comfortable at the table as she returns to the stove to gently stir the contents of the pan before joining him. 

He sees the Bible open on the kitchen table, assuming she was reading it while she was cooking, “Didn’t mean to interrupt your routine,” he gestures to the table. She adjusts herself at the table and meets his eyes, “Nonsense, you’re not interrupting anything,” she picks up the Bible, and quietly continues to read, “I just like to read a little bit of scripture in the morning to get my day started. Let me finish this passage real quick.” 

Arthur didn’t mind, he sits and fidgets with his lighter for a moment. After a few beats of silence, he puts his arm on the table and leans, trying to see what she was reading on the page, “So what’s it say?” 

She giggled at his curiosity before clearing her throat, “It says, ‘Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you,’ that’s Esphesians chapter four, verse thirty-one and two.” She smiles softly. 

Arthur nods, it all sounded lovely to hear. Although bitterness, wrath, and anger was all he was filled with– he couldn’t remember the last time he felt any differently. He felt like his whole life was one big sorry situation, tired of the ache of ruminating over the things that had gone wrong, people he lost, and regrets that plagued him. He was mad at everyone and everything. In Arthur’s case, forgiveness felt like water that was just out of reach for him. The thud of her closing the Bible jostles him back into the moment, he watches her get up and place the book back on the shelf in the living room.

“Y’know, you’re good at that.” he calls out to her, adjusting himself in the chair, his hips bucking forward a tad to get comfortable.

“What. Reading?” she calls back from the living room before walking back to where he was.

“Sure. If I was guaranteed you’d be the one preachin’ then maybe I’d start goin’ to church.” he smirked.

A rosy pigment of blush spread across her cheeks, “Now Mr. Morgan, what exactly is that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know Papa has wonderful sermons.”

That’s not what he meant– her obliviousness to his gentle flirting was endearing, he chuckles to himself. “I don’t doubt it darlin’” he mindlessly fidgets with his lighter again. 

“--Hey, that’s a wonderful idea. Why don’t you come to church with me this morning?”, she inquired, “You can sit next to me the whole time.”

His eyes widened before grimacing at the idea, that really wasn’t the best move considering who he was–although she was none the wiser, “I don’t know ‘bout all that, darlin’...” He hadn’t stepped foot in church since–well since the last time he saw her 4 years ago. “Why not?” she asks innocently, her big eyes gazing back at him. “If it’s about how you’re dressed the congregation won’t mind.”

He looks down at his attire and exhales a chuckle through his nose, mentally rolling his eyes at her assumption, “It ain’t about the clothes… it’s–” he sighs in between his words, “you know church..ain’t my thing,” he rubs his jaw, thinking over how awkward it would be to sit at one of those pews. 

“How do you know if it ain’t your thing if you don’t try?” 

He scans her soft features, “I been around a lot longer than you, trust me on this.” 

She gazes back at him and nods, walking back to the stove to finish preparing breakfast. There was a significant amount of silence that unaccounted for, Arthur who usually didn’t mind the stillness of the morning, grew restless in his chair.

“So…uh..whatcha makin’?” he asked, trying to find something to talk about. 

“Biscuits and gravy” she replied, stirring the gravy in the saucepan to keep it from burning. 

“Sounds good, ain’t had biscuits and gravy in a long time,” he taps his fingers against the table rhythmically.

Arthur was never good at small talk– he wasn’t like Dutch in that respect. That man could talk his way out of a death sentence, and God did he wish he had Dutch’s silvertongue right about now. Instead, he silently watched her cook, as a warmth spread in him. She’s wearing her Sunday best– and he notices the way her dress hugged her body and her bodice cinched her beautiful figure, how concentrated she looked when she was taking the biscuits out of the wood-burning oven, it strangely felt like home. For a moment, he forgot he was some outlaw, but just a simple man in the kitchen with his beloved. 

“Mrs. Hawthorne was askin’ about you yesterday. She saw you ride into town” her voice snapped him out of his trance, he grunted an acknowledgement, “The lady who was convinced her dolls were talkin’ to her?” he replies.

“Well she– now wait there Mr. Morgan she certainly does no such thing,” she explains, “That was just a rumor.”

“Ain’t a rumor if I seen her do it,” he laughs, “Sometimes she talks back to ‘em. Gives ‘em funny voices.”

“That’s not funny Mr. Morgan,” she frowns, trying not to laugh, wooden spoon still in hand, “Besides it’s not right to gossip.” 

“What’d I say?— Oh so it’s not okay to gossip but it’s okay to laugh at her expense? I get it now…” he jokes. She turns away, hiding her face from him. He stands up and saunters over to her, “Don’t think I ain’t seein’ you fight back a laugh. You think it’s funny too.” He chuckles. She eventually bursts out in laughter, the original joke not even that funny, it was something about his tone that tickled her. Suddenly, they both erupt in big laughter together.

The atmosphere in the room is light and airy–like both of them could breathe for once. “I think the gravy is done, you wanna taste?” she asked, her voice easing from laughter into a normal speaking pattern, wiping tears with the back of her wrist. Still grinning, he nodded in response, and leaned his hip on the side of the counter. She pulls open the silverware drawer and sighs, “Oh darn, I thought I had a spoon but I guess they’re all dirty.” she shrugs and fixes the issue by innocently tapping her finger into the saucepan, holding it out for him to taste. In her mind, she thought he would have a quick taste and tell her his opinion. Oh to the contrary. 

His heart jumped at the sight of her outstretched hand, slowly but surely he wrapped his lips around her finger, licking the sauce. The pent up desire that was bubbling deep inside of him started to rise to the surface, and before he could catch what he was doing, he began to deliberately yet gently suck on her finger. The feeling of his tongue wrapping around and in between her two fingers, made her lightheaded, electricity ran through her body and caused a heat to pool in her stomach. After licking her fingers clean, he pulled away and gazed into her eyes for just a moment.

“It’s perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly shaky. She gazes into his eyes for a moment, before responding with a small and trembling voice, trying to pretend she wasn’t affected. “You sure? Does it need more pepper?” 

He knew exactly what she was doing, whether she realized it or not; and he couldn’t help but find her innocent curiosity endearing. A small smile appears on his face, “I don’t know, let me taste it again.” 

A justification to have her fingers in his mouth.

Without a second thought, she taps her two fingers in the gravy again and holds them out for him, this time her hand trembles at the thought of re-experiencing the feeling. His big, calloused hand wraps around her soft wrist to steady her fingers for him. He takes them in his mouth again, gently caressing them with his tongue, silently wishing to himself that he could kiss her with this much fervor and passion. He looks into her eyes before closing them, letting out a soft groan of contentment before pulling away. “Tastes amazing.” he says, wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers.

Her fingers miss his mouth, they feel cold and incomplete without him. She felt lightheaded and breathless. There’s that beat of silence again, but this time it's longer than before. She pants ever so slightly, and he notices, “You alright?” he smirks. 

“Fine…breakfast is ready then,” she replies, her voice trembling with this new feeling coursing through her body. It was warm and soft, unlike anything she had ever felt before, she turned away and faced the stove again, “Go sit down, I'll fix you a plate.” refusing to make eye contact with him. They finally sit down to eat, although this time it’s different. She stares at him while he eats, trying to figure out this newfound warmth pooling in her, why everything he does makes her heart race. 

“Missed your cookin’, forgot how good it was.” he says, before taking another bite. “It ain’t that good, I appreciate your kindness though.” she replies, pushing her food around with her fork. “Compared to the stuff I gotta eat, this is like society folk’s meals.” She flashes him a small smile in return, her thoughts are loud and her heart is racing, “Society folk, huh?” her voice warbles, she tries to continue the conversation, but her thoughts are clouded by him. The way he ate was almost bewitching to her, she stares at his hands and looks away trying not to get caught. Her own fingers twitch watching him take bite after bite, reminding herself of the feeling of his mouth around her.

“When you leavin’ town?” she asks, not really wanting to know the answer. The soft early morning light starts to peer through the kitchen window. The atmosphere is still, yet full of meaning. He puts the cup up to his lips to drink long enough to ponder her question, before swallowing the warm liquid and placing the cup back down. “In a couple hours, most likely. Why you askin’?”

She shrugs and continues to eat, her left hand resting on the side of her neck. Her eyes refused to meet his, scared that he might see the disappointment in them. He exhales, something is off about her, “Somethin’ botherin’ you?”. She shrugs again and stares at her food, moving it around with her fork once more, “Why you leavin’ so soon?” she asks in an exhale, worried that she might be overstepping. 

He sighs, she didn’t need to know the real answer. “Work, darlin’...I’m on a...business trip,” he gestures vaguely. She doesn’t meet his eyes purposefully, trying to hide the tears in her eyes, it wasn’t fair that he made her feel things she never felt before, only to walk out and leave her forever. She prided herself to not be one of those girls that cry over boys. She always believed there were bigger and better things to fuss over–yet here she was. But what was the crime in missing someone? “Business trip…” she repeats under her breath before clearing her throat.

“What? Do you not believe me?” Arthur scoffs incredulously.

“It’s not that…you ain’t given me a reason to think otherwise but…” she pauses, trying not to overstep. “...But what?” He crosses his arms over and leans in closer against the table, the buttons of his work shirt pulling from the broad of his chest, she can’t help but pan down for a glance, her heart rate picks up at the sight of him. He was such a man– in the best ways possible. It was in his essence, his scent, the way he walked and talked, it drove her mad— it was so heavenly it agitated her.

“I don’t know, I ain't see why you gotta hightail it outta here. It’s been 4 years since you last been here and I mean for pity’s sake you just got here–”

“--And that bothers you?” he interrupts, slightly cocking his head at her.

She stammers, “I-I mean I feel like it’s not polite–”

He scoffs loudly, “Sorry I didn’t know you looked at me and saw the pinnacle of manners,” he places the cup of coffee back down,“Tell me what’s actually goin’ on,” he was starting to get to defensive. What had she heard about him that was making her so skittish?

The bantering conversation dies down and there’s a shared, intense silence between the two of them. 

Oh. Oh.

He felt like a fool for not realizing it sooner–or more accurately making a wrong assumption about how she felt and potentially wrecking a beautiful friendship. He stares at her across the table as she continues to eat.

“You gon’ miss me when I’m gone?” he murmurs low, studying her face, his voice shattering the silence in the air. His words suspended in the air like a fruit ready to be plucked. “We’ll all miss you,” she replies softly, trying to avoid what he’s implying. He shakes his head and grunts loudly in response, “I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout them... I’m talkin’ ‘bout you.”

She nods silently, before looking back up and meeting his gaze. For a moment, just a single, solitary moment–he forgot about the war raging in his mind of whether he was a bad person, or feeling like he wasn’t good enough for her. It was just him and the preacher’s daughter, sharing a meal and a loving silence. 

“Mr. Morgan–”

“You ain’t gotta be so formal with me hon, just call me Arthur.”

“Okay, Arthur, can I ask you something?”

He perks up at her statement, his curiosity giving her permission to ask. “I know you ain’t comfortable goin’ to church and I respect that,” she pauses to search for any discomfort for where the conversation was going, there was none, so she continues, “but I was wondering’ if you’d come to our annual picnic, this week. If you’re apprehensive about it being a church event– it's not. The whole town is gonna be there. It’s a town event, but I thought you'd like a bite to eat before you leave.”

He exhales and grins, “First breakfast and now a picnic? You’re really worried I'm gonna miss a meal huh?” he jokes, but she stares back at him, searching his face for an answer. His thoughts all align and he prepares to explain his reasons as to why he can’t come and that he’ll be back on the road in a couple of hours, but his words betray him, and he hears himself say something unlike him, 

“I’ll be there.” He looks at her free hand resting on the table, and gently envelops it in his.

“I’m glad, it means a lot.” she murmurs, a sparkle of joy in her eye. She stands and starts to clear the table, placing all the dishes in the sink.

There is a deep well of feeling and connection between the two of them, one could cut the chemistry with a knife. It pounds in his chest and he doesn’t know if he should act on his instincts–but dammit if he wasn’t going to at least try to do something about it.

He rises from his seat and approaches her, standing as close as he can to her. Feeling his presence, she laughs, “ain’t they ever taught you about personal space?” She looks over and he’s smiling back, but there’s a seriousness to him. She does a double take of how close he is, her smile faltering a bit, realizing he’s not kidding.

“I reckon you ain’t ever been this close to a man before, huh?” He ghosts the side of his finger against her chin. She shivers, goosebumps rise on the back of her neck and down her arms, before shaking her head.

“Why you tremblin’ doll? I ain’t gon’ hurt ya.” he murmurs. 

“I know,” she pauses, trying to find the words, “I just—never been looked at in this way before.”

He scoffs playfully, “Oh you’re more naive than I originally thought,” he looks over her face and down her body once more, “Men are definitely lookin’--  they just ain’t sayin’ nothin’ ‘cause you’re the preacher’s daughter–and they have a hell of a lot of sense to not say anythin.” he leans closer to her. 

“Well…what does that make you then?” she shifts against him.

“A fool–probably. But it ain’t stopped me from sayin’ anythin’ before,” he exhales and continues to gingerly stroke her chin, admiring her beauty. 

His voice becomes low, “You ever think ‘bout a man lovin’ on you baby?” The question vibrates in his chest. Her heart rate quickens, a beautiful shade of crimson spreads across her cheeks at the idea of something so scandalous, “Lovin’ on me?” she repeats. 

“Yeah, you know, what married people do.” 

For the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to say. She often would imagine in vivid detail, what she would do if she found herself in a scenario such as this. It was essentially drilled into her mind from a young age– that a man making advances was to strictly be condemned. That her purity was to be intact for her husband and only for her husband. The script of her imagination playing in her head, she’s seen it a hundred times–”sorry sir, I’m flattered but I ain’t interested”. It’s all she had to say…although for some reason she was rendered speechless, hanging onto his every word like her life depended on it.

in this moment– in some sick and twisted game of life, it was almost as if Arthur was forcing her to pick between which sin to commit– lying: claiming to not be interested in him; when in reality, the curiosity was gnawing in the pit of her stomach, or lust: throwing caution to the wind and letting him carry her bridal style to defile her in the bedroom that she grew up in.

She decides lying would weigh less on her soul.

“Mr. Morgan this ain’t proper…it’s immoral. I-I don’t entertain thoughts like that. I ain’t got a reason to.” she denies, refusing to acknowledge something so foul. It pained her to lie, she felt the guilt starting to creep in. Arthur smirks at her response, he doesn’t buy it, although her defiance and naivety makes his own pulse quicken. “Mmph, I see. So you don’t ever think about what your wedding night would be like? To finally have a man to warm your bed? Touching you all over and keepin’ you satisfied?”

Her breath hitches at the idea, never considering that a thought so filthy could have a moral loophole; but she dismisses the thought as soon as it comes, she continues to shake her head. The improperness of the conversation and her willingness to lie starts to make her feel sick with guilt. She shouldn’t be talking like this, not with a man no less. The mix of good and bad emotions swirl in her stomach like a bittersweet concoction about to boil over. As for Arthur, that insistent attitude of hers turns him on even more, and he can’t help himself to gamble how far he could go, “Oh c’mon darlin’, not even how it would feel? To have a man take his time with you and run his hands up your–” 

He found her limit, she cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. “No Arthur!” she barks, “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore! You will not bring this–this debauchery in this house; especially with my Pa in the next room, have you no shame?!” 

He knows he should take her seriously but the way she’s yelling at him is getting him even more worked up. He laughs a hearty chuckle, “yeah for somethin’ so repulsive to ya– ya sure are flushed!”

“Stop it Arthur it’s not funny.” She frowns, the guilt washes up in her like a shoreline. This must be what Papa was warning about on Sundays, the sin that drives a person crazy, to commit crimes and all sorts of deeds all in the name of passion. Arthur was creating new emotions she had never experienced before, the only cost of receiving it was with a backing note of remorse. Although, there was a cadence to Arthur that beckoned her to his presence. Like a siren beckons the sailor out to sea–only she was the sailor.

They gaze into each other’s eyes, unwavering and raw, “Arthur,” she exhales, leaning softly into his touch. He grunts in response, gazing lovingly back at her, his index tracing down her neck, making its way down to her collarbone, the other hand resting gently on her hip. She squeaks at the sudden weight of his hands on her, newfound warmth spreading in her. He scans her face for any hesitation, when suddenly she finds the words she’s looking for.  

“I’m waitin’ til marriage…”

He figured as much. What was he even doing? He knows this already. Lightly removing his hand, his palm hovers over her hip. He treats her like glass, scared he was gonna break her if he touched her at all– what a delicate little thing gazing up at him. He blinks and clears his throat, staggering a couple steps back. “Right. I know…I don’t know what I was—I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped, miss.”

She crosses her arms and as if she is trying to warm them, her fingers finding a way to the pendant Arthur rescued for her, fidgeting with it between her fingers, “You didn’t…I’m not upset… I just– I think– it would be best for you to leave now. For both of us.” she murmurs, “I’ll give Pa your regards.” He nodded in response, pressing his lips into a fine line, “Okay” he says barely above a whisper.

“Mr. Morgan?” his heart sank at her sudden formality— a fear that he ruined everything between them began swirling behind his chest, he came to a halt at her words.

“You still coming to the picnic?” 

He stands by the backdoor, loitering around the frame, before looking back over his shoulder, he exhales and gives her a small, sad, smile, “Thank you for the meal, darlin’. It was nice seeing you again.” The door hinge squeaks before he walks outside, the sound of boots shuffling against the gravel becomes quieter and quieter before it dissipates completely. She’s left with the burn of his shadow haunting the doorframe and the ghost of his touch printed permanently on her frame.

thank u sm for reading it means so much to me truly <3 hope you all enjoyed part one !!!

[chaeryeos]

ok. so. idk how to start this, but first of all, @florichae-deactivated20241216, may, deactivated because of literal death threats. an ANON was sending her death threats. first of all, what the hell?

fucking assholes next time don't hide behind anon. if you're going to hurt someone do it in public. if you want to show your hate towards someone, expect hate back to you... don't hide and show yourself because if you have the audacity to express hate towards someone like this, you must have no shame to show yourself.

i hope anon is seeing this right now, because what the fuck? do you really think that you're helping us right now because this world isn't getting better... like what the hell. this shit isn't funny.

why have so many people been deactivating recently? now @florichae-deactivated20241216 too? and the reason actually hurts my soul. she did not deserve to have death threats towards her? i hope that anon knows that they're a piece of shit and don't deserve attention. i know i'm giving them attention right now, but i really want to prevent this from happening again.

whoever's doing this, i genuinely hope you rethink your actions. i wanted to say something because literally yesterday, i also got an ask asking about dodo. if you're thinking about starting something up again, don't, because we're literally here to make moodboards. what the hell led you to start spreading death threats to someone who literally just makes moodboards, and a literal angel at that?

this community is supposed to be peaceful and we're literally only here, i repeat, to make moodboards. we're not condoning hate to circulate in our community. please spread this and the tag:

#JUSTICEFORMAY

if this is happening to anyone else, let me know because i will literally write another full on rant for you and i will go to the ends of the earth because no one deserves death threats.

and to may, i hope you're doing well. just know we all love you so much and please take a well-deserved rest. take care of yourself and don't listen to anon...

tagging people to spread this (sorry if you've already been tagged, i'm literally just tagging all the moots that i can)

@kiyeuo @hourlyhoon @kissunoo @sxgarhan @awwriri

@jaexiyu @sarangify @gyubnz @hypndiary @notaorbital

@n-americano @soulari @purinkiss @lvioung @chaeneuu

@qqmariztwsse @sugarish @flwerwon @et2rnity @bitchey

@fre-sitas @dollfacedb1tch @cupid-l0v3r @jimzittos

@i-mmaculatus @florescita @yeoniis @atsubie @heavenurl

@y-urios @tzulipss @artoruu @p-oisn @bambicito

@tarosuna @i-kyujin @y-vna @fairytopea @yeossemble

@wonjuii @aeraras @aestradairio @jngsite @y-unrei

@i-99uyu @beompercar @vwmpiris @byuvly @fiorais

@nepentheism

i'm grateful for every single one of you (i couldn't tag everyone because tumblr sucks...!)

[mona-prithey]

YEAR END MUTUALS APPRECIATION POSTTTT

Soo the year is ending, but a new one is also beginning and therefore it is very much required for me to appreciate the moots in my Tumblr life.

Tho first and foremost the man himself has to be appreciated so KANHA U CUTU THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE COURAGE TO INTERACT AND BE ON THIS BEAUTIFUL SITE TO MEET PEOPLE WITH EQUALLY BEAUTIFUL SOULS. *KISSES FOR THE CUTU*

Now for my moots,

@seedhe-pahad-se girl you are my second follower here and you are appreciated for being a very relatable desi girll and i love your posts like thanks for those posts they make my dayy.

@krishnaaradhika for me you are one of the few blogs that made me love kanha even more than i did and i love your blog for just how much of kanha i find there oh love your mood boards

@chaliyaaa i love your moodboards but gurll WHERE ARE YOUR OC MOOD BOARDDDD i wanted to see themmmm also i love everything you post and when i see your post im like CHALIYAAAA IS HEREEEE

@ssj2hindudude love your Aru Shah incorrect quotes tho i have yet to read much about them, but i love your writing soo writeeee

@itsmeljoana idk much about you but i loveee how cute your posts and reblogs areee especially Sailor Moon onesss

@s-3lliot you are also a blog idk much about but I JUST LOVE YOU VIBESSS its comforting

@fastenyourseatbelts YOUR BLOG IS CHAOTIC AND I LOVE ITTTT AND SINCE YOU ARE @ranijaisichaal LOVE THAT BLOG OF YOURS AS WELL

@aahanna RELATABLE AND AESTHETIC IS WHAT YOUR BLOG IS TO MEE

@braj-raj YOU WRITINGGGSSS OOOOF ME LOVE THEMMMM MUAH

@tum-naam-sochlo-merese-ni-hora GURL YOUR ART BUTIFULL CHEFS KISSSSSSSSSS MUAHH

@sumiyxx SONIIIII CUTUUU BABBBYYYY MY RELATABLE CHELLLIII CUTUUU

@yeh-mera-deewanapan-hai YOU GIVE ME COOL VIBES LETS BE FRIENDSS PLSSS

@randomx123 YOU ARE THE SWEETEST BOII LIKE EVERY TIME I TAG YOU, YOU REPLYYY THANK YOUUU

@archpoet77 YOUR BLOG MAKES ME HAPPY LIKE HAPPY HAPPY SO THANKS

@shinchansbitch got to know of you through the daddymon thing that happened and also of your interactions with cake ME LIKE YOUR BLOG

@maintohoonpagal your blog is very pleasing to my eyes aur kabhi likhna mat chodhna

@delulululu-majnu MY INTROVERT SOUL LOVES YOUR BLOG

@syamakrishna YOU ARE THE SWEETEST AND HAVE A VERY BEAUUTIFUL SOUL AND IT IS A JOY TO LEARN FROM YOU

@groovycynicalcheesecake THE MOST CHAOTIC INDIVIDUAL ON THIS APP LIKE GURL SPAMM IS OK BUT WHY DO YOU DO IT AT SUCH AN UNGODLY HOUR THO I STILL APPRICIATE IT SO DONT STOPPP AND SLEPP WELL U IDIOTTT CAKEE

@kanha-ki-fangirl VIII I AM SOO PROUD OF YOU FOR EXISTING AND BEING MY MOOT LIKE THANK YOUUU SOO MUCHH

@shubhadeep385 YOU CAN DO ITT context pata hai toh theek nahi pata hai toh puch na mat

@maraudersbitchesassemble your bolg is fun and i like it ☺️

@mi-stress-of-chaos JUST AS YOUR NAME YOU ARE CHAOS AND I LOVE ITTT KEEP IT UPPPP

@zeherili-ankhein GOT TO KNOW YOU FROM NAVARATRI POSTS YOU MADE AND STAYED FOR THE REST OF YOUR BLOG AND LOVE YOUR INTERACTIONS WITH @h0bg0blin-meat AND @randomx123 ANDDD LOVE YOUR DRAWINGSSSS

@krishna-priyatama hii ummm soo idk much abt you but ill get to know you and make a better appreciation post next yearrrrr

@lalenn LIAAAA MY CO-GIRLFRIEND (its an inside joke dont ask) WHO KNEW I WOULD MEET SOMEONE LIKE YOU I THANK KANHA SOO MUCH BECAUSE HE LED US TOO MEET I WOULD LOVE TO MEET YOU IRLL

@ishaaron-ishaaron-me FINNALLY I CAN TAGG YOU HERE, MOST OF THE TIME I COULD NOT BUT THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME KANHA'S PICSS THE DAY YOU DID IT MADE ME SOO HAPPYY

@mausamii GURL YOUR MOOOD BOARDSS ARE SOOO PRETTYYYY LIKE SOOO PRETTYYYYY AND THANK YOUUU

@saanjh-ki-dulhan LOVE YOUR WRITINGSSS AND THANKS FOR THE RECENT POST YOU WROTEEE LIKEEE OOOOF MY HEART I CANT TELL YOU I AM YOUR FANNN ME FANNNN

Ok now I am concluding my appreciation post, just in case i did forget about one of my moots pls do let me know and yeah

LOVE YOU GUYS

[winwintea]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you for @sungbeam for the tag, yours was so prettily laid out and i was in shock. ALSO THE TAG WAS SO SWEET EVEN THOUGH WE ONLY BECAME MOOTS AT THE END OF THE YEAR. even though i really only started writing fics towards the end of the year i did write more than i thought could so it’s fun to go over yknow…

no pressure tags: @chenlesfavorite @ddolbyong @fatalhoon @galacticseonghwa @hazyhae @jirsungs @lyvhie @odxrilove @polarisjisung @peterm4rker @sehunniepot @strrykais @thatsatricky1 @viasdreams @vanesycho @wonbin-truther @yizhrt

FIRST FIC OF 2024: yours for the night ◎ park jongseong (april 20th)

chat… don’t talk to me about this one ok. DONT READ IT 😐 i can see you wanting to read it DONT ISTG. but genuinely i re-read it and cringe cause wdym i thought this was good and posted it. it was kinda rushed though, cause i think i was trying to time it with jay’s birthday. kinda funny that i’m a mainly nct account and my first fic ever posted was an enha one

LAST FIC OF 2024: mutual affection ◎ park jisung (december 25th)

start the year with fluff end the year with fluff! 🤗 this one changed drastically from it’s original concept though. it was supposed to actually be professor x reader where y/n comes in during class to deliver lunch while his students tease him but then they go on a date, except @polarisjisung liked the idea of them passing notes to each other during class 😚

LONGEST FIC: wicked love ◎ na jaemin

y’all ate this one up i’m so glad it didn’t scare you guys away. the reaction was so positive and lovely, i was a bit afraid since i’ve never written a yandere type character before. plus 5k is definitely long for me, i’m hoping to write something longer next year so wait for me okay??

MOST POPULAR FIC: inyun ◎ mark lee

lowkey didn’t expect this to do well but somehow mark lee + past lives combo works well. also did not cave into the angst ending!!!! so i don’t have much to say on this one love u all mwah mwah

PERSONAL FAV: my apology letter ◎ zhong chenle

obviously i would have to choose between winwin or chenle for this one (no shit) but genuinely as much as i hate this man so much this fic just. i don’t think i could write anything like it again? maybe? don’t trust me on that i’m unpredictable. but the idea was just insane and i can’t believe i pulled it off well in writing.

i hate zhong chenle. i hate that man why is he so writeable. WHY (i got lazy with the banners don’t kill me)

NO. 1: Zhong Chenle (12,300+)

find him in: heart to heart, secure that once upon a time, stop posting about BALLER, my apology letter

NO. 2: Na Jaemin: (9,100+)

find him in: that’s okay, wicked love

NO. 3: Huang Renjun (can’t count cause smau lol)

find him in: the last dance, and belladonna!

if y’all couldn’t tell i didn’t start seriously writing fics until the later half of the year, and i also am a new writer 🤭🤭 i started writing around march/april of this year starting off with smaus. i was also lazy with my banner making abilities so i hated that but anyways we learn!

i plan to write more obviously, it was just so fun!!!! to pump out fics in the span of 2 months but i lowkey can’t keep neglecting my smaus i feel bad 💀 but on terms of what i have on my brainstorming/working on list rn!

- an angel reader x demon haechan fic (won’t give much details bc i don’t want to spoil but hehe 😛😛)

- super super lore heavy fic involving some modern retelling of alice in wonderland theming going on but make it romeo and juliet, and detective themed with some mystery. (😐😐 this one might be so long idk if i even have the ability to write it but i will try!)

- delinquent jaem smau (i’ve talked about this before but yall cannot let me start another smau i gotta finish underneath the tree and mark lee vs the world first okay)

- upstairs neighbor haechan smau except he literally crashes through the ceiling into your room and that’s all the plot details i can tell you rn

- secure that card (but better)

- a jisung smau that will tie in every single smau i’ve ever written together (guys the winwintea universe is real)

[nyxtickled]

Did you have to fly on the place with socal again? Was it awkward or were to able to switch seats?

no, we didn’t fly together at all, thankfully. the whole situation left such a shit taste in my mouth tbh and just goes to show how much i was treated like a trophy lee instead of a person.

he asked me if i wanted to go to AUNT with him back in November i think? can’t remember. i said id love to, but not to consider me a guarantee bc the odds of me being able to afford a flight, ticket and room were slim to none. he offered to share a room with me, but didn’t mention the flight or anything (which was completely fine! i did not want him to pay for my fight) and i said that would make it much easier.

then throughout December he started posting things and tagging me on here about how we’re going to be duo lers, offer gang tickles, etc. i was like oooo yikes - bc lots of moots were getting excited about hanging with me there and i was just like, aaaah i hope i can raise enough money! so, after 2-3 of these posts came in from him, i texted him and said look i hate to ask you this but you’ve p much told all of tumblr that im for SURE going to aunt with you and that we’re gonna be a gang tickle duo. if i can’t get the money together in time, are you ok with covering my flight until i can pay you back? and he agreed saying it was no problem whatsoever.

thennnn the fallout happened as shown in the texts from the night my dog got sick. i was so hurt by the whole “one day you’re asking me to borrow money and the next i’m unsafe and terrible” blah blah. i said ok hell no i’m never ever asking you for anything financially ever again, do not even worry about it, i do not need your help, i’ll get my own way there.

then we reconciled after a 2 hour phone call the next day where i just fell for all of the claims that his play partner was psychotic and that i interpreted his context incorrectly and that he didn’t mean any of it the way i took it, yatta yatta.

then everything was somewhat mellowed out. i started trying to actually plan the trip with him, asking him if he’s gotten the room yet, if he’s gotten his own plane ticket yet, etc. he never gave me a straight answer, left me on delivered a bunch, and then eventually just told me he lost his steam for aunt and wasn’t going anymore. so i said damn that sucks, hope you change your mind bc i’m sure it’ll be fun etc.

i think in his mind, if he didn’t go, i wouldn’t be able to go. so when i reached out and connected with my angel love baby girl mik and she offered me the pullout couch in her room, i was elated!!! this meant i would only have to buy the plane ticket and id be squared away!!!

well, guess what happened the moment he found that out?

suddenly there was a mad scramble for him to find a room “for us” since the hotel was already booked out. even tho i’m the one who already made alternative room plans, he asks ME to make a post in the discord and ask people to hmu if someone cancels so he can “get a room for us.” i start getting texts from him telling me i’m his “priority” and that we’re a “package deal,” all the while we haven’t even seen each other in like a month and we barely talk anymore. only hits me up to ask me how many sessions i have planned for aunt, and to ask me if he can use me as an excuse to reject potential lees bc he doesn’t know how to say no on his own. all of a sudden he wants to claim me and say “me and nyx aren’t planning anything til we get there.” like idk it just made me feel so sick and used. bc this energy was nowhere to be found when i was actually trying to plan our trip a month prior and he said he wasn’t even going anymore.

like, idk. all of it honestly made me feel like nothing more than a reputation enhancer once again; he wasn’t interested in showing up in my life for a real dynamic, but he wanted everyone to think we had a real dynamic. he wanted to be able to show up with “nyx from tumblr” at her first ever gathering and pretend we were bffs and ultra close play partners after all the shit he already put me through like it never happened. makes me kinda fucking sick.

so, you know the rest now - i end up talking to adi, i find out all the insane shit that was said about me to her AND the insane shit that was said about her to me being false. i keep my own flight and my separate plans to room with mik, and i tell him that i won’t be playing with him there, but i won’t make things weird for him, i’ll just keep my distance. i traveled alone, landed in Albany alone, made my way to a nail salon alone, and finally met up with my love my angel my baby mik. bing bang boom!

[justagalwhowrites]

Get to Know Your Moots

Thank you for the tag, @burntheedges! I know it's been a minute but this one looked so interesting I just had to go back and do it when I had time.

what's the origin of your blog title?: Title is from when I was talking with a friend of mine about how Leia is the only consistently competent person in the original Star Wars trilogy and how she has to tolerate Han and Luke being dumbasses on the regular and one of us (I can't remember which) said "They may as well call the original trilogy Leia's Intergalactic Tour of Ineptitude" and that seemed like a great fit for the stuff I post here.

OTP(s) + shipname: Han and Leia were my first ship but hell if I know what their ship name is. Ron and Hermione (I would throw down over this one back when I was a bigger HP fan before JKR ruined the fun for everyone) aka Romione. Richard and Kahlan from the Sword of Truth series (deep cutttttt!)

favorite color: red! Also a big fan of emerald green and yellow.

favorite game: I think this means video games but I don't really play those SOOOOOO board games it is! Wingspan for sure. Takenoko. Clank Legacy. Everdell. Brass. Abomination.

song stuck in your head: Francesca, Hozier.

weirdest habit/trait?: I feel like I'm a poor judge so I asked my husband and he said it's the fact that my mom and I have a secret language that we use with only each other lol. I think it's also probably the fact that I sing to and about the people and animals I'm closest to. I also need to eat my food in a specific order otherwise I enjoy it less.

hobbies: writing is the big one obvs! Reading, D&D, baking, cooking, playing board games, hiking.

if you work, what's your profession?: Corporate communications. I handle environmental communications for a major corporation.

if you could have any job you wish what would it be?: Writer. I want to just be able to tell my silly little stories and send my imaginary friends on adventures in my head all day.

something you're good at: very little lol I'm an OK writer, an alright cook and baker. I'm not sure that I'm GOOD at it but I'm very comfortable speaking and presenting in front of large groups. I think I'm good at decorating and organizing my house? I like how I did it, anyway. I'm good at empathizing with just about anything.

something you're bad at: most things lol honestly if it's a basic human function I'm probably bad at it. I'm incredibly clumsy, I'm very bad at sleeping, sometimes if I try to breathe too deep I choke on my own spit. I'm very bad at being purposely aggressive or mean to people on my own behalf. I'm not great at really aggressive board games because I don't like being mean to people I'm playing with. I'm terrible at singing but I love to do it so I sing constantly so everyone send pity to my husband!

something you love: writing! Making people food they really love. Hiking where I can really hear the trees. Sex in the water.

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Joel Miller (obviously.) U.S. media law. The gentrification of cultural foods. Star Wars. Board games. The patriarchy.

something you hate: Besides the obvious (Trump and the right wing, Zionism, bigotry, etc.), something that's very minor that drives me crazy is when movies give away the whole plot in a trailer. Let me experience the story dang it!

something you collect: Swatch watches, mugs, postcards.

something you forget: how much I like almost any specific fruit until I eat it again for the first time in a while.

what's your love language?: Being noticed and remembered and treated as though I matter. That whole to be known is to be loved thing.

favorite movie/show: TLOU and The Mandalorian of course! Arrested Development. The Sopranos. New Girl. Family Guy. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. Star Trek: Voyager. Inglourious Basterds. Elf. Baby Driver. It's a Wonderful Life. Star Wars. 500 Days of Summer.

favorite food: A really good burger, fresh pasta, fudge-y chocolate cake, my grandmother's chicken paprikas, caprese made with perfect summer tomatoes.

favorite animal: cats of all sizes (the fact that a tiger will just go chill in a box makes me so happy) and horses.

are you musical?: I LOVE music but I'm not remotely musically inclined. I can play piano and flute but not terribly well. I love to sing but I'm VERY bad at it. I do (I think) have a sense of rhythm though so I've got that going for me, which is nice.

what were you like as a child?: obsessed with books lol my dad was digitizing old home videos and found one from when I was two years old on Christmas morning and there was a book by my stocking and I immediately did not care about anything else. My mom tried to get me to pay attention to the toys Santa brought but I just kept looking at the book. I've always been sensitive and an easy crier, that was true then too. I really liked to pretend, I was very imaginative.

favorite subject at school?: English in my younger years, eventually journalism. Theater was another favorite, as well as psychology. I loved science before it got too math heavy.

least favorite subject?: MATH. I'm very bad at math.

what's your best character trait?: oh I have no idea. I think I love really hard and I hope that's a good thing?

what's your worst character trait?: I'm very big emotionally. I get very excited, I can be very loud without realizing it. I'm just a lot as a person. I very much wish I wasn't, I wish I didn't have incurable and chronic cannotshutthefuckupitis but I do. I feel like I'm probably pretty insufferable as a person honestly, especially for anyone who has to actually spend time with me in person. I just haven't really ever managed to change that about myself!

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be?: My in office desk chair is kind of trash on my back so my upper back is just mad at me. I'd love for that to go away!

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet?: Such a good question! Maybe Oscar Wilde?

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

I had a slight inconvenience last week so I ended up back reading @netherfeildren's Fear of God for the umpteenth time, no regrets.

I'm loving Falling by @damneddamsy, her writing is so wonderfully vivid and I think her Joel is just fabulous.

Cherry by @mirrormauve has be in a complete chokehold right now and I'm in love with them your honor.

NP tags: @dundienominee, @interdimensionaldrey-blog, @dancingtotuyo, @whocaresstillthelouvre, @mysticnightmarewrites

[pxgeturner]

Miguel O'Hara is a world-renowned professional boxer, and Hobie's other best friend. One night he finally makes the two worlds collide and sparks immediately fly between the two of you. But will he distract you from meeting your publisher's deadline? And will you distract him from getting World Champ?

before you follow. m.list. Iron Fist gfx library. series m.list. tag list.

Prologue. I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. Epilogue.

wc. 1.5k

an. hi. its me! Giselle, or gi, or gigi to few (not to be confused w gg, that is one of my moots. she makes really cool art.) n e ways here is the awaited Prologue for Iron Fist. Oh goodness I'm so nervous. I just want to make a few things clear. the reader is an author (obvs). She's recently graduated uni and is Latina! I write with a woc!r in mind always. I try to be as inclusive as possible, pero porque soy Mexicana, r might lean towards being more Mexican but I'll try to keep her Spanish standard and not be too specific to my family's culture. much love! hope you enjoy <3

please don't forget to reblog! likes do nothing to boost engagement.

Your foot taps against the floor. The damn blank document stares back at you. Mocking you is what it’s really doing. Fuck you, you think, I achieved my goal. I published a book and it is a damn bestseller! Only problem is that the readers want more. It’s been… some time since your first book. And sure, Jess said you can take a break before starting a new project. But you also know that it’s good to ride on existing publicity. At least be able to make an announcement that you’re writing something while all this excitement lasts. Maybe you should write something about vampires. You love vampires and how they fit into romance and how them drinking blood is a euphemism just a bit away from, the whole cannibalism-equals-all-consuming-love trope and how when a vampire attacks it’s often an allegory for rape and— but you have nothing to add to the conversation. You have nothing new to say, no new perspective or hot take, or twist. You have nothing. No ideas.

Not a single word on the page.

You have an idea, leaning forward to peck the keyboard. “F-u-c-k. T-h-i-s!” You highlight the text and italicize it.

Fuck this. At least it’s words on the page.

You reach for your cup and take a sip. “If all else fails I can ride on the rest of the signing bonus and royalties for a bit since the book is doing good, and once that dries up, I can apply to be circulation assistant at a library or something.” You sigh and take another sip. “But nobody has to know for now.” You get up, searching for your phone. You find it resting on the arm of the couch, you grab it, sliding onto the cushions, resting your head where your phone just was. “God, don’t make me a one hit wonder, I wanna be a star. I wanna be the one to push that bitch Colleen Hoover into obsoletion. Please God. Please.”

You open your phone and look for your mother on speed dial.

“Hola, nena!” Your mama’s voice is happy, she must be having a good day. You move into the kitchen. You need a snack.

“Hey, mama, how are you?” You hold the cell with your shoulder as you look through your pantry.

“Good, good,” you find a pack of roasted seaweed snacks and grab it.

“I went on a date anoche.” Your shoulder drops and the pack of seaweed slips out of your grasp.

Mi mami fue a una cita. Con un man! You stand there, trying to process that she is actually back on the dating scene.

“How did it—” you aren’t holding your phone anymore. You use the wall as support to lower yourself to pick up your phone and snack.

“—ay, mami, lo siento, mi cellular se cayo de mi mano.”

“Todo bien, hija! I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, I’m ok. Anyways— how was the date? What’s he like? Am I going to have a stepfather soon?” you joke.

“My time for marriage is gone, muñeca, I’m just looking for companionship, pero, tu lo sabes.” You hear some subtle clinking in the background of the call, she must be stirring her coffee. You open your snack and park yourself on the couch. “Are you writing?” Ugh. Not you, too.

“I was, just finished for a bit before I called you.”

“You called me to procrastinate.” You choke on your seaweed from the accusation.

You clear your throat, “I called to check in with you. I call you practically every day.”

“But right now you called me to check up on me as an excuse to not write. Nena, I know you.”

“Okay, fine. I might be having some writer’s block,” you admit, sighing.

“And that’s okay, nena, but then you need to get out, get some inspiration. Allow the world to give you a story.” There’s mama, with her easier-said-than-done advice. But, maybe you should get out of the house.

“Alright, I’ll go out soon.”

“Tonight,”

“—I will go out to the Chinese place across the street and nothing more. I’ll talk with Hobie when he gets back to see if he has any ideas.” You hear your mama make a noise in her throat.

“You still live with that boy?” Here it comes. You’ve lived with Hobie Brown for three years and have known him for five. She’s always been apprehensive of him, since he’s radical and looks like he’s been in jail, with all the metal in his face, and why does his hair look like that? But Hobie is the one who’s kept you sane all these years. He’s held you while you cried and pushed out of your comfort zone when you were getting too stuck into your routines, most likely by dragging you to a concert or a protest. You help him thrift and flip clothes and ever since that one time his stylist had an emergency and canceled, you now help him tighten his wicks every so often. On days like that the two of you stay in, watching nostalgic movies and listening to any demos he’s recorded recently. He’s like a brother to you at this point.

“Yes, mama, I still live with Hobie. Nothing’s changed.” You move the phone down to your chest and take a deep breath.

“I didn’t like him when I first met him,” you clench your jaw as she continues— “…and although he’s one of those kids, I can tell he is a good boy. I’m glad he takes care of you.” You relax. “But it wouldn’t hurt to have someone you could kiss.” “It would be nice, but right now it’s not happening.” “Alright, muñeca. I’ll leave you alone for now, but keep your eyes open for a nice man.”

“I will, con cuidado, mami, besitos.” You make a kissing noise into the phone, and she responds with a goodbye of her own, and you wait for her to hang up the call.

You sigh, and look at the coffee table. Hobie left his song book at home, weird. It’s open to the song he was working on the other day. It’s a slower song, you can still hear the melody. You drum your fingers to the tune. He’s on an unfinished verse. You pick up a pen from the little catch-all dish and scribble down a line or two.

…

Hobie weaves through the roar of chattering, anticipating fans and into the tunnel, and walks past employees and into Miguel's prep room to see him tying his shoes. “Hey,” Miguel looks up. “Hey.”

“Are you excited?” He moves to sit by the boxer, shimmying up against his shoulder.

“Haven’t really been excited for one of these in a while.” Miguel breathes.

“Well, one step closer to retirement!” Hobie bounces out of his seat. He turns to face his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna do great, you big fuckin’ bear of a man.” He ruffle’s Miguel’s hair.

Miguel gives a half-ass hum in response.

“Well then, I’ll be out there, mate, cheerin’ you on.” He puts his hands in his vest pockets and walks out the room.

As he reaches the empty doorframe, Miguel speaks up. “Thank you, Hobie.”

“Anything for you, mate.” Hobie nods and goes to join the audience. Miguel fastens his gloves and puts on his robe. He warms up waiting for his coach.

“Ready, O’Hara?”

Miguel turns around. “Always ready for a fight.” He clenches his jaw. Walking down that hallway, the festive colors lighting up his path and the music blaring, he does his little bit, the movements molded into muscle memory.

This is it. This is his last year fighting. If he gets world champ again, he’s free.

Soon, he gets to fight his last fight. And dammit, the world championship will be his last match. Then, he’s never gonna have to come back.

He weaves under the ropes, entering the ring. Sitting on the stool, he shrugs off the robe and lets Carlos put the mouthguard in.

“You are going to show this guy exactly why people call you el oso!” Miguel beats his gloves together and nods. He might not like his job right now, but he really wants to hit something and goddammit if his opponent doesn’t look so beatable right now.

Coach Carlos steps out of the way, and Miguel stands to walk to the ref as he calls for him to center.

“We went over the rules in the dressing room.” Right before Hobie got here. “I want to remind you to protect yourself at all times, and obey my commands.” Ring the damn bell already. “God bless you both,” I don’t need it but this kid might. “Touch up,” here we go. He touches gloves with his newbie opponent and each goes back to their respective corners.

Miguel takes an orthodox stance.

The bell rings.

Miguel lands the first punch. He also lands the last.

[stephiethewephie]

Black Butler Character Bases for my Twisted Wonderland OCs

Ok, so I had this idea, and someone probably did this before (because it has been proven that I have no original ideas), but hear me out:

Obviously Yana (the main writer and character designer) based a lot of the designs of the Twisted Wonderland cast (or took inspiration) off of the characters of her most famous work, Black Butler.

So, I thought it would be fun to ask, “if Yana decided to make my OCs canon, what Black Butler characters would she base their designs on?”

Here are my ideas:

Piper Finch (Yuu):

Paula

Captain Peggy:

Beast

Miss Shelly:

Mey-Rin

Elanor Sunberry:

A combination of Joanna and Angela Blanc

I shall tag my lovely moots to see if they want to start a trend, but it’s also open for anyone who wants to join in:

@boopshoops @clouwn-core @skriblee-ksk @saikira999 @freekyfangirl @the-trinket-witch @cheerleaderman @jewelulu @briry18

[rubywonu]

𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿

summary: in which your boyfriend assured you and comforted you after having a rough day.

pairing: xu minghao x fem!reader

genre: established relationship, angst, fluff, comfort.

warnings: a LOT of anxiety, panic attacks, breakdowns, emotions are haywire, kisses, hugs, reader hurts herself.

w/c: 1.1k

nia’s notes: just a little fic on my current status except i dont have a hao. its probably rushed af. tagging some moots at the bottom, to help spread this fic.

you slammed the door shut as panic settled into your body. you removed your shoes and walked into the living room in search of your boyfriend. you just had written a test and it was needless to say it was not your best performance.

you had prepared for it a month before and you entered the exam hall with so much confidence. but you left the hall with tears on the brim of your eyes and a slow-settling panic attack.

on the couch rested your boyfriend. minghao was reading a book, his headphones strapped on his ears. he put his book down and hao's eyes glistened when he saw you. but that didn't last very long when he saw the lone tear gliding down your face.

immediately ditching his headphones and book, hao ran over to you. his hands grabbed your shoulder lightly and he pulled you into a hug while rubbing his hand over your back.

the comfort of being next to hao was your safe space when you cried your heart out. your eyes burned and your throat ached at the intensity of your breakdown.

and for a second you felt ok. but then you felt your heart drop. you asked yourself a question that lingered in your mind. did you deserve to cry? the answer, well you didn't have that.

your entire life you were set on high expectations to do amazing in your tests and you did. exam after exam you pumped out excellent grades like a robot, leaving no time for you to enjoy life. people praised you and you were the ideal daughter in the eyes of your parents.

but that all stopped when you started to live your life. you went out to parties with your friends and went on dates, where you met your boyfriend. that's when your grades dropped a little, although it didn't make a difference in your final grade, the way your parents saw you changed remarkably.

you were a disappointment in their eyes and the constant screaming made you believe every insult that was thrown at you. so you cut down on your enjoyment and went back to being a 3.9 gpa student. thankfully, you had hao by your side.

minghao reminded you to eat, he supported you through the times when you felt like a mistake. he stayed awake on the nights when you spent cramming. minghao was a ray of sunshine in your dark life, and you thanked the gods for that.

after a hectic month of staring into a book like a mad woman, you would've expected to do way better in the test than it turned out to be. the questions were hard and the time was insufficient, and the worst part was it was all your fault. at least that's what you told yourself.

you should've studied harder and practiced time management. you should have, no, you had to do better. otherwise, everything you worked hard for was useless.

minghao noticed your quiet behavior and pulled away from the hug, his knitted eyebrows screaming concern. "are you ok, my love?"

and for a minute, you just stared at the wall in front of you, you were numb. were you sad? were you disappointed? or angry? you just didn't know. it felt as if you had fallen into a void of nothing, and for the first time in your life, you couldn't breathe.

it started with your body shaking silently, as you felt another breakdown washing over you. then, it escalated to you clawing at your neck for some comfort. you needed air, you needed to breathe but just couldn't.

tears welled up in your eyes, you tried to speak but no sound exited your mouth. you sat there like a statue. you didn't move but your body and your mind were running a thousand miles an hour.

minghao seemed familiar with what was happening and immediately pulled your hands away from your neck, which was red. "breath. breathe for me." he helped you stabilize your breathing by rubbing your back and guiding you. "that's it, my love. you're doing amazing."

you got your breathing back but the void-like state didn't leave. but an emotion struck you and it struck hard. anger. you were angry at yourself for not trying hard enough.

you furiously wiped your tears and abruptly stood up. minghao followed your movement with curiosity. "why?" you asked yourself meekly. it was so small, your boyfriend almost didn't catch it.

"why what darling?" hao walked in front of you, his eyes held adoration and love when he looked at you.

"why didn't i try better? the exam was so easy. but i couldn't answer a single question." you grabbed your hair and shook your head violently. you started to hyperventilate. you sunk to the floor again, as your knees gave up and the strength at which you hit yourself became more aggressive.

minghao struggled to pry your hands off, he wasn't afraid of getting hit in the process. "yn. my love, you tried your best. you did everything you could. and i know you will do amazing the next test. don't beat yourself over this."

"no, hao, you don't understand. i can't dance or sing like the others do." your voice broke as you started to speak. "i can't cook or paint. i have no artistic or athletic talent, minghao. my grades are all i have. without them, who am i?" you confronted the real reason you tried so hard for your education, while all your friends were getting medals and trophies for competitions when you were younger, the only thing you had were your grades.

"you're the most wonderful person i've ever met. that's who you are." you felt a tear hit your shirt and realized it was minghao's. "you make me laugh in ways no one else had ever done before. when i see you, i become happy. i wish time slowed down when we are together because you make each minute special."

at this point, you were sobbing and for a whole other reason. "you make me a better person, and that is a major accomplishment. yn, you changed my life." minghao cupped your cheeks and made eye contact with you. "just because you can't sing or dance, doesn't mean you're nothing. it means there's something you're better at. and you know that."

you didn't notice it but you were smiling. you felt completed, you felt comforted. and for the first time that day, you felt okay. no words were exchanged further, but it was clear.

minghao loved you no matter your flaws, and you trusted him so much, that from that day onwards, you loved yourself no matter your flaws.

tagging: @kflixnet . @caratsland . @pixieskie . @xomingyu . @etherealyoungk . @fairyhaos . @kyeomyun . @wheeboo . @ylliris-hanniehae . @bangchansbae . @slytherinshua . @blue-jisungs .

[blacksorrow-untiltheend]

Shoutout to my moots !!! <33333

Everyone from daily account …… . . . .

… . . . . .

Piecrust-87 (LPVE YOU DUDE 🙏🙏 barely know you but we’re moots)

Silliest-shark (THE SILLIEST OF SHARKS!!!!)

Tsukasa-lover (me too buddy)

Cartoonbeth (really cool btw keep doing what you do)

Wondererryn (#1 SUPPORTER!!!! TRUST!!!)

Mizuribbons (I don’t know if you’re ok with being mentioned in posts but I swear I won’t @ you😭💔 I LOVE YOU MOOTERS!!!!!!!)

Marzzthehuman (ONCE MORE SOMEONE I HAVEN’T TALKED TO MUCH BUT I LOVEYOU!!!!! /pos)

Lizbii (my god lizbii. You’re so silly I love you. Thanks for tagging me in all those chain things I forgot what they’re called. They’re so fun!!)

Drakedraws (I LOVE YOUR DRAWINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!AAAAAAFHHHH)

Rainfallstormcloud (wow… #1 vbs fan… can I be fhe #2?????)

———————————

Everyone from THIS account!!! …. . . …. .

….. . . . …. . .

Cringevin94 (hai vinny/j) (I’m so sorry if you dislike that 💔)

Songfawn (your name is so pretty… songfawn.,,,,)

Zeeph-containment-zone (OH MY GOD. YOU. I love your kaito wotd. And you’re so cool. I’m glad we’re moots!!!!)

Averagekanadekinnie (me too, Aubrey.. me too…)

Gift-from-the-bellow (did you know bellow was spelled wrong..? Either way, I think it makes your user much more unique!! <3)

Shortcakedoggie (YOU’RE EVIL. I LOVE YOU.)

Cocoa-artz (MY FIRST MOOT!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!)

And an honorable mention… kanade-memes-daily!! Thanks for your life changing facts.. /silly

I just wanted to post this to say, I love my moots AND my followers.. you guys are all so supportive and kind and I hope you all have amazing lives<3

[infinite-ticking-clock37]

Help why is Silved mpreg a new thing on this app- like what started this help me

OH BOY how the fuck do I explain this shit

Ok so basically back in very early January I decided to draw Silver Spoon.. but pregnant. AS A JOKE-

Then my gf (@humanaltarr) posted the pic, and a few of my moots on Tumblr saw it, and at first I was like "Welp this is the end of my Tumblr career" and I think just a few hours later one of my moots (@spiritmander13) wrote the first Silver Spoon mpreg fic called "Silver Suffers With Morning Sickness" with 6 chapters (technically 7 but the 7th isn't involved with the story)

Then Silver Spoon mpreg became a big joke mostly on the oscc discord I believe (I joined it for a few days but left) and then for a while it was quiet, until I started an ask blog called @askthe-iii-shipchildren, on April 5th, and on April 30th I got an ask by an anonymous person where they wanted Candelabra to put Silver Spoon in a maid dress, and I ended up drawing Silver in a maid dress

Now here's were the second Silver mpreg era began. I made a joke with Candle saying "If Silver stays in that for much longer Candelabra is gonna have a little sibling soon" cuz I thought it would be funny (had no idea what it would cause)

Then @spiritmander13 reblogged it and said something like "CANDLE NO-" and I replied back saying "Silver Spoon mpreg part 2 /j" AS A JOKE. She told me not to start it again, and I said "Aw shucks" but in the tags of that reblog, I said "Time to draw Silver pregnant in a maid dress" and that's where I messed up since Spiritmander said they were intimidated.

Suddenly, I got tagged in a post by Spiritmander, and it seemed to be a screenshot of them saying "Don't tell Infinite, my sins shall stay hidden until it is the right time (I scrolled for like 20 minutes on their blog to find that fucking hell)

Then I got a little spooked cuz yk it's not everyday shit like this happens. I then screenshotted it and went into her inbox with the screenshot and asked "WHAT IS RHIS, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN" and she replied with another screenshot and it said "*Casually steals Tumblr mutuals fankid for the story*" and that's when I knew what was happening.

Soon, Spiritmander posted another Silver Spoon mpreg fic called "Little Moth"

Then it was a little quiet after that, with me making an occasional joke about it, always ending it with Spirit saying "HEY YOU STARTED IT!"

There is also this whole thing with "Bab Incest" Spirit did but I wasn't involved with that

Later in to May, me, @spiritmander13 and @mxmc13 formed the "Silver Spoon simp trio" cause apparently we all saw each other as friends so why not

Then the (sort of) mpreg era 3 started again. I'll put this part simply and say that me and a few other people on osc Tumblr got asks in our inboxes by "Anon~Chan" that were basically like a shitty Wattpad story but with II characters, and I personally got a Silverloon mpreg thing.. so fun..

And the most recent thing that happened. There was a Two x Jax post, and me, Mc, and Spirit were basically joking more about Silver Spoon mpreg in the reblogs, until Spirit came along and said "Silver Spoon simp trio canceled." And me and Mc were absolutely DEVASTATED and then Spirit said that me and Mc had to write Silver Spoon mpreg as well, for me as punishment for drawing it and confusing the original poster, and for Mc.. dunno..

And that's what's currently happening, I am working on my Silver mpreg and so is @mxmc13 ..

And yeah that's the whole story pretty much, this was a VERY long post and probably not even was the asker really wanted but meh

Anyways I imma end this off with saying.. I do not regret first drawing the Silver Spoon mpreg, since this is all genuinely fun and it even got me some friends on this site (Spiritmander and Mxmx and their great) so yeah =]

(also this is NO hate to anyone mentioned in this, and the fics that Spirit wrote are actually really good so I recommend checking them out)

[eri-pl]

@ 2 posts I reblogged on the side (well mostly one of them)

The whole thing about "you can't claim that someone deserves to die, bc it's not your job to judge it" and the idea that this applies to fictional characters too. (Sidenote: in the context of real people I wholly agree with the thought, only the blorbos are the question.)

On one hand, yes, it makes sense, because if we say "General von Evil deserves to die because he murdered civilians" it sort of implies "[insert a politician of choice] deserves to die because he murdered civilians" and that's a problem.

On the other hand, well, general von Evil is a fictional guy and I feel like I am on the position to judge him because of that. Because I am more real. And I made him up.

On the secret third hand, the whole Tolkienian philosophy about sub-creation… Tolkien himself never did that (let's not hairsplit, we'll get there later). Even about Gollum. And I respect that a lot.

But also, maybe let's not get crazy over the rights of fictional blorbos. It seems easy to get into absurd levels here.

Also, does it change when you are writing the character?

It's complicated. Thoughts? (@tzarina-alexandra I know we are not moots, but this post is very much inspired by things you said, so I felt like tagging you may be a good idea. I'd love to hear your thoughts about it but no pressure)

---

Also I am now having an internal debate about "but what about Morgoth specifically and saying that he deserves to die/whatever" (assuming that we have agreed that generally, "don't judge fictional people" is a good rule).

And.

On one hand, I do not want to question my beloved mutual's right to say that, mostly (solely?) because, well, context. (does she even say that? Probably. I'm not sure.) And other people's right to say it either. Especially because I like him, so I very much feel like I'm not in the position to comment on that. I am biased.

On the other hand, by saying that this one character is so evil that he deserves to [insert whatever nasty thing] opens a gate for more. Because. Why does he deserve it exactly? Can we pick anything (other than "because he is not real") that he did to deserve it and no real people did?

Because the author said so? I suppose some authors say similar things about various characters, some of which are quite relatable. Or at least human. And i don't read the worst books, I'm sure some authors enthusiastically throw characters to Hell for being gay / Catholic / any other thing common on tumblr / any other thing some humans do. (Also, what about the grey area of "throwing characters to hell for doing things that are not possible IRL, like being a nazgul"?)

Because the author said he is literally the devil? Again, leaning on the author doesn't seem like a safe heuristics. Also I'm quite certain that "he's literally the Antichrist" had been used as a political argument during religious conflicts, so— it's tricky.

And so often fantasy evils are seen as a metaphor of real-world stuff. Not Morgoth, but I'm sure someone did the math of "if Mordor is Russia, than Sauron is Stalin / whoever". Even though Mordor is not Russia and Tolkien hated allegory.

Because he's not human? Well, what does human even mean? Some people say psychopaths aren't human. Some people say Trump voters are not human. some people say some ethnicities are not human. Even if we agree to a reasonable definition of human, with fantasy characters it gets messy, because again, what is a human? Who is human? Elves, vampires, whatever— it gets messy. And also if we even entertain the concept of "you can stop being human"… ugh.

OK, maybe if we agree to a reasonable definition of human. This could work. Maybe. It feels slippery.

I am probably overthinking it and should put the line just on "is not real". (But also, what about fictionalized versions of real people, where's the line there?)

Or maybe I should stop worrying of infringing on people's right to do something I never even saw them do.

Thoughts?

[unriding]

IDK IF IM LATE BUT HAPPY BDAY AGAIN EVIE !!!!! if today didnt treat you well i am having FISTFIGHT (w/ moze for your good day !!!!) (•̀ᴗ•́ )و

look look, hes loving ur reward after he fought for ur honor !! >:]]

NICK ??!!!!! if someone were monitoring my heart rate, they would quickly take notice of spikes & it wouldn’t take them very long to connect it back to u you know !! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟi have a long reply … no pressure to read! the shorter version is : HELLO OMG ??? THANK YOU?!

i will save the tags for my screaming over this ( which, i did a lot of over these past few days lol ) can we talk about you for a second!! because i have word dumped to you before, but as always, it is not nearly enough …

i always always talk about your art, i’ve noticed, but today i’d like to talk about just you — art aside if you don’t mind !!! because i have been so grateful to become your moot … you have the most endearing personality ever that i just adore so much ! you know, even before we became mooties, i had seen you around a bit! and one of my first ever thoughts was oh, this person is so sweet to his friends siendjdjxjk i have always thought of you to be very kind!

i wish you could have seen the way my face lit up when you joined my event !! I WAS LIKE ACK THIS VERY COOL PERSON IS INTERACTING WITH ME IDK WHAT TO DO NOW — and i quite literally had two devices out, cranked the brightness to max, switched off night mode — and i was LOOKING SO CLOSE AT MY SCREEN I WAS LIKE . ok … DONT MESS UP .

though bahahaha the reason i was so excited is because i just love how you ?? talk ??? i mentioned this once! the way you text and type and the way you are always makes me so happy, it is always such a joy to scroll through your blog !!! you are so funny — i am always smiling and laughing at your posts and oh, you are just such a lovely person to be around !!! i also read your tags on the things you reblog solely for the reason that you’re just great bahahhahaa i truly do love to see your thoughts and reactions to things !!!

^ i would describe myself as when a dog looks to their friend and waits for their reaction to have its own reaction ….. the same way where if you scream “YAYY” the dog will inevitably be excited too … that is me with you .. i am just happy to be here ( on nick’s blog ) yes !!!

though i am one of your friends that sits at the front porch of your blog eagerly holding out a bag to ask for ppgear crumbs, i hope you know that besides the beloved ppgear and your art — you, yourself! are so cherished by all of us 🥺 we love you and your endearing personality … and separately — we love puppetgear and your amazing lore and dynamics you’ve given them !! and separately, we love your art and your wonderful colors and lines and ( can i sit near you and observe … how do you draw … i want to shamelessly wear a pair of binoculars and observe … OBSERVE INTENTLY … HOW DO YOU DRAW SUCH COOL STUFF PLEASE LET ME SEE )

[just-a-drawing-bean]

I love your art lots and I love hearing people talk about their art so I'm asking some of my dca moots a bunch of fun art questions, no obligation of course

What is the art piece you are proudest of?

2. What is the art piece you've spent the most effort/time on?

3. What art did you spend the least amount of effort on?

4. What art piece/pieces has crazy lore that you could spend days explaining?

5. What piece is so completely different from your usual style?

If you want tag an artist who you also want to see answer these questions feel free to though of course no obligation

Aw thank you!!! This is interesting ok hmmm the proudest piece is hard to pick because a lot of the other ones in this post I'm proud of but I guess this one. I had a lot of fun designing him and making him a silly little angry fish. I want to draw him more.

A piece I spent the most time and effort, apart from an animation, I'd say this one. It took a while to draw the flowers and pick out the correct colors since I was going for a particular art look. the fact that I drew this from an ask lmao, I got mega inspired by the suggestion.

Ha, what piece did I spend the least amount of time? oh boy I do a lot of low quality doodles and fast art but a more finished piece that was fast would be Fornite Eclipse because I literally speedran that and my friends kept me on a timer lmao although I did go back to shade a little. But an actual fast doodle is something in like under a min like this sun or something drawn in gartic phone which has a timer.

something with a lot of lore.... its not my lore but i could talk about the story and characters of Sleuth Jesters all day... <333

Something that is way out of style is the Spiderverse boys since its trying to match that comic colorful energetic style. very fun tho