#this brought to you by my spectacular fall this morning

[stephantom]

The last few years, I can’t escape this cycle with climbing, where I get injured, I take a break to recover and then I slowly build back my strength, and just when I’m starting to feel like I’m getting back to the level I was at before, I get injured again.

[gooddaysmeanwritingdays]

Hopelessly in Love with You

Pairings: Steven Grant x gn!Reader, Marc Spector x gn!Reader, Jake Lockley x gn!Reader Summary: Even after all these decades you’re still head over heels in love with your husbands. And sometimes you can’t help but say it out loud. Warnings: Absolutely none. Just fluff—so much fluff! Word Count: 2805 word count A/N: I saw a facebook post about a woman saying that even after like a decade, she still got butterflies and stuff when she was around her husband, and so that’s what prompted this. 

This is technically in my Falling For Them series, but can be read separately. This was just something I wrote at 4 in the morning because I could. It was originally just Steven, but then I found it again 18 months later and decided to add more. So here it is

“I am in love with you.” 

Your husband looked up, his beautiful brown eyes blinking owlishly behind his glasses. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but when you’d looked up at him across the room, it was like all the air had rushed from your lungs.

Steven blinked again, his smile a little bewildered and soft as he said, “Well, that’s good, love. What with us being married and all.” 

It was a Wednesday afternoon and you were both doing your own thing. It wasn’t a particularly spectacular Wednesday afternoon—it wasn’t your anniversary or anyone’s birthday. You were spread out across the floor working on your novel and Steven was at his desk going over his notes for the new museum exhibit. 

But when you’d looked up to ask him about—hell, you couldn’t even remember what—you were hit with such a powerful wave of ‘Oh gods I am so in love with you’ that you could barely breathe. 

It had been thirty-two years since you’d said “I do” and you were still so much in love with him. And some days it would just hit you like that. Like a cannonball to the face that you were in love with these men, and they loved you back. It was the giddiest feeling in the world. 

You stood up, stepping over the papers that had seemingly exploded around you, and headed to Steven. His arms were already open to you as you scrambled awkwardly into his lap. It wasn’t nearly as easy as it had been in your twenties, but it made him chuckle slightly and you got there eventually. 

“No. You don’t understand,” you whispered solemnly, cupping his cheeks in your palms. “I am madly in love with you.” 

His face burst into a beautiful smile as his arms came around your waist. “I am madly in love with you too,” he whispered, leaning up to kiss you. 

Kissing Steven was like fireworks and slow dancing. The decades since you’d met hadn’t diminished the fire his touch sent racing through you. Every brush of his lips against yours had your heart racing and your soul singing. You tipped his head back to deepen the kiss, suddenly desperate for more, and his moan sent shivers through you. Your hands slipped into his hair and his slipped under your shirt. 

Gods, I could do this all day. 

You pulled back a fraction, just enough to rest your forehead on his as you both caught your breath. 

“If that was your proof, love, I may need some more evidence,” he teased. His thumbs drew circles on the skin under your shirt. 

You grinned, closing your eyes at his touch and he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. He lit a fire along your skin as he grazed his lips along your jaw to your pulse point. 

“Thirty-two years and you still make me feel like every kiss is our first kiss,” you whispered as he traced circles into your skin with reverential tenderness. You pulled one of his hands from your waist to over your heart where you could both feel it pounding away. “You make my heart race every time you look at me.” You brought his hand up to cup your cheek. “I feel like my face is going to break with how much I smile just thinking about you.” You move his hand to our stomach. “And I still get butterflies every time I wake up next to you in the morning.” 

Steven looked up at you like you were his reason for living. He looked at you like you’d taken all the air from his lungs and were filling them with pure oxygen. 

You leaned forward to trace his lips with yours. “Kissing you is like I’m learning to breathe all over again.” You couldn’t help your smile as you pulled back slightly. “It’s like I’m back at the start, falling for you all over again. And it is as easy as it was back then.” 

There was a shine to his eyes and he held you close as you placed soft kisses along the backs of his eyelids. 

“Except it’s better,” he said when he could finally speak. “It’s so much better than the beginning.” He cupped your cheek with a holy reverence like he still couldn’t believe you were real. “I don’t have to pretend like I don’t want to spend every second of my life kissing you. I don’t have to live with my imagination of what a future with you would be like.” His kiss was so unbearably soft you wanted to stay there forever. “I get to wake up every morning knowing you’re beside me. I get to tell you every day how much I love you. I get to be your husband.” 

Even after all these years the word still made butterflies erupt in your soul, and you could tell in the way his heart fluttered underneath your hand that it was the same for him. 

“Falling in love with you for the first time was breathtaking, but being married to you—it’s a dream come true.” 

You just had to kiss him again for that. 

You pulled back and settled into his arms, content to never move again. Steven shifted you slightly so he was comfortable and returned to his work on the exhibit. 

But eventually, your body made its complaints known and you had to move. You weren’t a spring chicken anymore and as delightful as it was to sit on your husband’s lap all day, you needed to move to a comfier spot for that to work. You tugged him after you, determined not to do anymore work, and headed to the couch. Today was officially now a cuddle day.

“Also, it’s been thirty-two years, four months and seventeen days.” He shrugged when your eyebrows shot up. “Jake’s been counting.” 

“Well,” you leaned in for another kiss. “Here’s to another twenty-two years, four months, seventeen days. And forever.” 

“Forever,” Steven breathed, wrapping you in his arms.

~~~

He looked so soft in the mornings. Like he’d never worried about anything in his life. 

You’d both been awake for a few hours now, but it was Saturday and you didn’t need to get out of bed at all if you didn’t want to. And lying next to your husband, you never wanted to move again. 

“You’re staring,” Marc murmured, eyes still closed.  

You reached out to trace his nose, softly following the path to his cheeks, his jaw, his eyelids. He kissed the tip of your finger when it passed his lips, and you died at the cuteness. 

“I can’t help it,” you said, biting your lip at how damn cute he was. “I am so in love with you.”

Under your finger his lips curled into that gorgeous smile you adored so dearly. “I love you too, baby.” 

You huffed out an exasperated sigh and shuffled closer. “No,” you said like he was being deliberately obtuse. You rolled both of you so you were on top of him, straddling him. Marc snorted, still grinning as his hands came up to hold you in place. He didn’t open his eyes. “I am in love with you.” 

“Ah.” He nodded like he finally understood. You poked him in the chest and he pressed his lips together to keep back a laugh. “Of course. My mistake.” 

He still hadn’t opened his eyes and you knew he was doing it just to be stubborn, so you leaned forward to kiss his eyelids. When that didn’t work, you pressed a line of soft kisses down his nose, mouth, chin, along his jaw and to his ear—right where you knew he was ticklish. 

He huffed a laugh and finally opened his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes crinkling in the corners. 

Your heart fluttered. Gods, you loved those eye crinkles. Your boys hadn’t had them when you’d met them. They hadn’t had much to laugh about back then, but over the years their laugh lines had deepened. And boy did you adore them. They were a sign of your darlings growing as people, and letting themselves be comfortable again. 

They were no longer ‘Moon Knight’ anymore, and it was mornings like these that were a reminder of that. They were all yours. You didn’t have to worry about losing them, nor did they ever have to worry about you getting hurt because of them. 

You were safe. All of you. 

And it was because of that safety your darlings could have laugh lines and lazy Saturday mornings with you. 

It was like Steven had said. Falling in love with them had been amazing, but being married was a million times better. You wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world. 

You shrugged helplessly, almost too overcome for words. “I really am just so in love with you.” 

Marc melted at that. His grin softened into an adoring smile, and his hands came up to cradle your face. His thumb traced your cheek and you melted into his touch. The look in his eyes reminded you of the day he said “I do”, and of that night, and every day since. 

“I am absolutely in love with you too.” He pulled you closer to brush his lips against yours. “Every day I think I can’t possibly be more in love with you. But then the sun rises and I can’t breathe with how much more I love you.” 

You started at the unexpected poetry from your normally close-lipped husband. It wasn’t the first time he’d blown you away with his words, but just like always, you never expected it. You buried your face in his neck, cheeks aflame and heart racing. “You are impossible!” 

His laugh rumbled through his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tighter against him. “I learnt from the best,” he agreed, planting an adoring kiss on the side of your head. 

~~~

Jake was pouting. Every time you’d look over at him, he’d poke his bottom lip out and turn away, arms crossed. And every time you asked him what was wrong he’d just pout harder. He’d been like this all day and you were starting to wonder if this was a prank. Or if maybe you really had upset him. 

So finally you cornered him in the bathroom when he was hunched over cleaning out the cupboards. You stood in front of the door and raised an eyebrow at his back. He couldn’t escape now. 

He stood slowly, eyeing you and his blocked escape before he eyed the window too. But when he looked back at your narrowed eyes he knew he was pushing his luck so he just pouted. Again. With those damn puppy dog eyes. 

Gods, he’s killing me. And he knew it too. He knew what that look did to you. He’d seen you cave to Steven with it enough that he knew it was your weakness. All your darlings knew how to use it on you, but Jake wasn’t getting away with it today. 

“I don’t think so.” You took a step closer. “You’ve been pouting at me all day.” You closed the door. “And every time I ask you what’s wrong, you pout even more.” You stalked towards him until his back was against the wall and you were toe-to-toe. “So tell me. What. Is. Wrong?” 

Jake looked away, his chin tipped up so he was staring at the ceiling and resolutely avoiding your eyes. 

“Jake Lockley,” you warned. 

Your patience was wearing thin. You’d already ruled out this being a joke or a prank, and now you were left with him being upset over something you’d done. And it was exactly like Jake to avoid an issue upsetting him until it went away. If Marc or Steven were upset, all hell broke loose, but Jake? No, he’d let that simmer until he had an ulcer. 

And even after all these years, that was something you hadn’t helped him work through entirely. Hence today’s issue. 

You raised an eyebrow when he still hadn’t said anything. 

“You haven’t said it to me,” he finally muttered, pouting harder. 

You reached out to put your fingers to his chin, tilting his face back down to yours. “Haven’t said what, baby?” 

He avoided your eyes so you stepped even closer so you were all he could see, and finally he blurted, “You haven’t said you’re in love with me.” 

You frowned a little. “What do you mean? I say it all the time.” 

And you did. Every chance you could you’d tell your boys how much you loved them. You’d both gone through points in your lives where you thought no one loved you, so all four of you had made it a point to say it every chance you could. 

Hell, you had even instituted a system where three taps meant ‘I love you’ so you could all say it whenever you felt it, all without saying it. 

But Jake was shaking his head, pouting even harder as he forced himself to look away. “No, not like that. Not like you said to Steven and Marc. Not like that.” 

Oh. He was talking about yesterday with Marc and last week with Steven, where you’d been so in love with your husbands you couldn’t help but tell them. 

Oh, baby. Your other hand came up to cup his face, ducking your head so he could look at you and your heart skipped at the emotion in his eyes. 

He was jealous. 

You bit your lip to keep from grinning at how cute he looked. You hadn’t seen it before because you’d been focused on other things, but when Jake pouted…

Gods, you loved that look. You wanted to make him pout like that all the time. Maybe you could get him to look like that next time you were in bed. Make him beg a little…

You shivered at the delight that brought, and his eyes lit up a little at the movement. 

Stop it. Now’s not the time. 

You reached up to cup his cheeks and you knew there would never be a moment in your life where you weren’t in love with this gorgeous man. “Falling in love with you was inevitable,” you whispered, echoing the words of your vow all those years ago. “There has never been a moment where I haven’t been absolutely head over heels in love with you, Jake Lockley.” 

“Yeah?” He gave you a small smile, and you knew he was lapping up your words, just like he did every time. 

It had broken your heart when you’d learned that of all of them, Jake had been loved the least. That not once in his life had anyone told him that they loved him. From then on you’d made it your mission to tell him so often that he would never doubt his worth ever again. 

“Yeah, baby.” A smile escaped your lips and your eyes creased with how much you adored him. “Sometimes it just hits me how much I love you. Before I met you I didn’t realise I could love someone this much, and then I fell in love with you and—” you shrugged helplessly. “I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.” 

Jake’s smile bloomed into a grin that had his eyes crinkling and his cheeks blushing. “Good.” 

Before you could react, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted up into the air. You shrieked, laughing, and clutched his shoulders to keep from falling. Even as old age crept into the bones of your darlings, they still surprised you with how much they could still do. 

He spun you around before setting you back on your feet, your back against the wall. He leaned in, trapping you against him as he curled a hand against your cheek. His nose brushed against yours and he was grinning so hard you knew his cheeks were aching. Just like yours. 

You arched into him, biting your lip as his thumb traced your cheekbone. 

“Tell me again,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours in just the way he knew drove you crazy. 

Your heart pounded, and you wanted to bury your face into his chest to hide the blush burning across your cheeks, but you knew nothing but the truth would save you. So, you took a handful of his shirt and pulled him even closer. Then, with a brush of your lips against his, you said, “I am madly, deeply, inevitably and hopelessly in love with you, Jake Lockley.” 

He snickered. “Gross,” like he wasn’t entirely head over heels for you too, and pulled you in for a searing kiss. “But me too.”  

A/N: Reblogs, comments and likes give me the dopamine to keep writing, so if you liked this oneshot,

Let me know what you think 💖

And if you want more like this, follow me here or on AO3 (or both)

[kyeomray]

rise and go down on him

pairing: kim mingyu x afab reader

content: established relationship, some fluff, slice of life, pwp, smut (18+ MDNI!!!!)

summary: mingyu is the busiest man you know, yet he always finds time to take care of you. so on the one morning he has time to sleep in, you decide to repay the favor. (smut warnings below)

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this is the first fic i’m releasing on tumblr…kinda nervous lol. I realize this concept might be overdone but I thought it was a good place to start and hope I put my own spin on it!! let me know if anything looks wrong with the format and thank you for reading xx

smut warnings: some kissing, dry humping, handjob, oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, babe, slut one time), cum eating, some pussy touching, tbh this is filthy sorry not sorry.

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you stir awake as large, warm arms engulf you from behind. smiling sleepily, you bring your hands up to softly rub along the length of them. mingyu grumbles into your hair and you let out a snort at how cute he is. you missed mornings like this.

being an idol, mingyu’s mornings didn’t typically start this freely. he was either up and out the door far before you even even woke up, or so exhausted he slept through most of his off days. you understood - with his grueling and inconsistent schedules - why intimate mornings were such a rare occurrence between the two of you.

despite his lack of time (and often energy), mingyu never neglected to make you happy and totally satisfied in your relationship. if he got food while he was out after practice, he always brought some home for you. he cleaned up after himself no matter how tired he was, knowing how much you didn’t like to do it. if he was too sleepy to dote on you, he would just suffocate you with snuggles until you both drifted off instead. and lastly, he never, ever, left you wanting or needy.

he savored every second of time you had together. his favorite was dragging you to shower with him whenever he got the chance. he would press you against the wet tiles and throw your leg over his shoulder, burying his face into your wet heat until your whole body trembled. he’d bend you over your vanity while you did your morning routine, being careful not to ruin your hair or makeup while he plowed into your cunt from behind. he would even finger you till you cried while you watched movies on the couch if he didn’t have energy for anything else. he always assured you it was okay. he wanted to pleasure you every chance he got. and you were so in love with him for it.

this particular morning, you woke up in a spectacular mood. it’s not often mingyu gets a few days off in a row and it’s definitely not often that you both get to sleep in together. the realization makes your heart flutter, and you bring mingyu’s big hand up to press delicate kisses on his knuckles.

you feel him stir behind you, the evenness of his breathing coming to a stop. he presses his face further into the mess of your hair, inhaling deeply. you giggle slightly at the action, squirming at the warmth.

“good morning, handsome.” you whisper, resuming your stroking of his forcep. he groans quietly behind you.

“mornin’ baby.” mingyu rasps. he still sounds exhausted, and your heart clenches a little. you know he probably won’t want to get up for a while, and not one bit of you blames him or disagrees. you snuggle back into him further, relishing in the way his arms tighten around you.

“missed this so much ‘gyu.” you sigh softly, letting your head fall back to the pillow. “missed waking up with you.”

“me too, angel. c’mere.” mingyu moves his arm away from you and pulls on your hip gently, and you can tell he wants you to turn around.

you do exactly that, shifting your body until you’re facing your boyfriend in his arms. you’re so close that you can feel his soft breath fanning across your face. you beam at him before burrowing your head in the crook of his neck. he smells so warm and good, and you don’t think you ever want to leave this spot.

you love mingyu so incredibly much, and now is one of those times when your whole body is buzzing with that feeling. he always does so much for you, and you want to start doing half as much. making him feel half as loved as he makes you feel (which is still a lot). you can feel the mischievous grin form on your face; you know exactly what to do and you have the time today.

you start off innocent; lifting your head up to place small pecks all over mingyu’s cheeks and nose. his eyes open slightly as a small smirk forms on his lips, and you take that as an opportunity to press your own against them. he immediately melts into you, sighing into your mouth and rubbing his hands along the span of your back.

you hook your arms underneath mingyu’s armpits, moving your hands up to tug softly at the hair on his nape while you lightly suck his lips into your mouth. he groans at the action, and his tongue is immediately prodding at your lips.

you part your mouth, his tongue quickly finding your own and swirling against it. you can’t help the small whine that escaped you when mingyu’s hands find your ass, groping and squeezing the soft flesh shamelessly (and as if he isn’t still half asleep). he chuckles sleepily at your reaction, and you pull back from him briefly.

“you’re kind of a pervert, you know that kim mingyu?” there’s a smile on your face, and mingyu decides to push things a little further, slipping his hands into your underwear and spreading your ass cheeks apart while biting his lip. you gasp, pressing your hips further into him. “forget kind of, you’re a gigantic fuckin’ perv.”

“you do this to me, baby. it’s your fault i’m so horny all the time.” you laugh a little at the pout on his face, and move up to resume kissing him. his mouth is moving hungrily against yours despite the tired state of his body, and it has butterflies erupting deep in your stomach. you yank at his hair again, rougher this time, and attach your lips to the cut of his jaw.

he sighs out when you throw a leg over his hip, essentially laying halfway on top of him. your lips continue their attack on his neck, sucking marks into his soft skin as you roll your hips against him. mingyu is groaning softly, grabbing behind your knee and hauling you even closer to him. your thigh is pressed against something hot and hard when he does so, and an evil grin spreads on your face.

pulling back slightly, you watch mingyu’s face as you slowly trail your hand down his abdomen. the sight before you is kind of hilarious, really. his eyes are still heavy with sleep and his hair is a mess on top of his head, but his cock is raging against you underneath his shorts. you giggle at the sight as your hand reaches its destination.

his breath hitches when you rub your hand over him, stroking the shape of his erection teasingly. you can tell he’s already fully hard, and you squeeze your hand around him firmly just to feel the way his cock pulses in your grip. wetness seeps past the seam of your pussy as you do, and settles on the seat of your panties. you’ve got a long and fun morning ahead of you, you already know it.

“so hard for me already, and I just started touching you, gyu.” slipping your hand under his waistband, you smooth your fingertips over the oozing tip of his cock, relishing in the broken gasp he lets out.

“mm—mhm, y-yeah baby. you make me so hard.” he grunts, and you can tell he’s already gone. already panting as you rub his cock, working him up till he breaks.

“you work so much, baby. let me take care of you today.” you purr against his neck, wetly smooching the flesh there before pushing him to lay fully on his back. his cock stands straight up in his boxers, tenting the fabric almost comically. you work down his body, kissing and licking down his stomach before you reach his crotch.

you decide to tease him further, mouthing his dick over the fabric of his underwear until the material is soaked through. mingyu groans frustratedly, but you can tell he’s still too tired to reprimand you. you continue your ministrations, sucking and licking the covered tip of him till his thighs are trembling and he’s whining above you.

“fuck,” he gasps out when you yank his underwear down just enough so that his cock springs up against his stomach. he’s already leaking so much, and you wrap your fingers around his shaft to feel the weight of him. “p-please,” mingyu manages, tears already welling up in the corners of his eyes. “please don’t tease me baby. n-need you so bad.”

“I’m gonna take care of you gyu, don’t worry. gonna suck on your big cock till you explode.” you emphasize your words by spitting lewdly on his dick, working your hand around him while the wet noises of it fill the room. his body noticeably relaxes into the bed, and that’s when you go to town.

your lips wrap around him, massaging them over his tip before dipping your tongue into his leaking slit. he cries out and his whole body jolts, making you smirk against him. you go back to work, taking him further into your mouth with each bob of your head. his cock is coated in your saliva at this point, and you know this is only the beginning of the mess you two are going to make.

you look up at him as you practically bounce your mouth on his length, taking in his fucked-out expression. he’s still panting, and small whines and grunts are escaping with his breath. squeezing your fingers around his base, you hollow your cheeks around him, slowly sucking up his shaft until you reach the tip and swirl your tongue over him.

“fucking hell…you’re s-so fucking good at that. shit.” mingyu moans loudly, and you can tell you’re gonna be so wet that your underwear stick to you like a second skin after this. you’re desperate to make him cum, feel his cock jump with each spurt, so you hasten your movements. jerking him off as you slurp around him, making spit drip down the length of him.

you unwrap your hand from his shaft, bringing it down to play with his balls instead. he practically sobs out at that, his thighs quivering with each pass your lips make over the ridge of his head. he starts babbling, and that’s how you can tell he’s getting close.

“ss-so good baby. ‘m not gonna last. so so g-good.” mingyu slurs, drool beginning to seep onto his pillow as his eyes roll back. you take him deeper, your nose nearly touching his navel with each bob of your head. he’s so big that you’re starting to gag on him, but you push through anyway. you can’t help but wonder what the room would sound like to someone else, with the way you’re choking and slobbering on his dick.

mingyu’s riding the edge at this point, just needs a little something to get him there. it’s a good thing you know his body like the back of your hand, because you practically read his mind. gripping his girth once again, you squeeze the base of him. your lips tighten around him, dragging your tongue along with them as you move up his shaft. mingyu’s balls are tightening, his cock throbbing as you suction your mouth around him. you mentally prepare to take his load as you lap at his frenulum, already feeling him twitch under your tongue. sure enough, he starts crying out, desperate and pathetic ‘ahhh’s spilling from him and increasing in pitch.

“mmh, gonna cum. shit, baby. g-gonna cum. I—I’m cumming—mmmph!” mingyu’s jaw practically unhinges in a long, strained moan, his back threatening to arch off of the bed as his cock jerks in your mouth, pulsing with spurts of thick cum that land on your tongue and the back of your throat. you swear he cums for hours, his knuckles turning white as he grips the bed sheets.

you struggle to swallow the large mouthful of his load, but you somehow manage with only a few drops leaking out of the corners of your mouth. you squeeze the last few drops out of him with your hand before laving your tongue over him one last time to clean him up.

his body jerks and he whimpers in sensitivity at the overstimulation. you place one last kiss on his tip before sitting up, knowing he’s had enough. you watch him with your hands on your knees, observing the way he’s attempting to catch his breath, his arm draped across his forehead. he manages a small chuckle as he notices you staring, cocking your head to one side.

“you’re fucking unreal. I hope you know that.” he breathes, making your cheeks blossom with heat despite the lewd acts you just performed on him. you know mingyu is spent, but honestly giving him head makes you so fucking horny, you’re worried you might have to rub one out in the shower if he has no energy left.

luckily for you, mingyu can tell exactly you need him (by the way you squirm and squeeze your thighs together), and he won’t ever leave you wanting. especially after some of the best head of his life. he motions you over to him with a lazy wave of his hand. “c’mere baby. wanna feel how wet you are.”

you crawl over to him slowly, situating your clothed, aching pussy straight over his outstretched hand. he hums in delight at the way your arousal immediately coats his fingertips, and teasingly presses them into you. you whimper shakily, practically keeling over as he immediately finds your throbbing clit.

“fuck,” mingyu groans. “fucking drenched. does sucking my dick make you that horny, dirty girl?” he teases, his sleepiness fading away with each passing second as your hips grind into his hand.

“y-yes gyu,” you whine. “need your cock so bad. please. please.” he chuckles at your desperation, pulling his hand away from your cunt and grabbing your hand instead and pulling you to straddle him.

“such a little slut. c’mere baby, ride my cock.”

***

[kairiscorner]

˗ˏˋ ✮ kairi's AUtober !

day 1: your husband: miguel o'hara.

"mmm... mi amor, don't go..."

his gravelly voice begged of you as his sculpted, tan arms wrapped themselves around your waist. he buried his sharp nose in your hair as he took in the delicious scent of his spouse, the love of his life that he was so fortunate to have for... forever now. he kissed down your neck as he held you closer, pulling you towards his massive body and caging you in his tight, loving grasp. "mi vida... it's sábado, don't leave me alone in this big bed..." he murmured to you as he sneaked his hands under your top and roamed his palm all over your smaller, plush body.

from the moment he got to know you, the moment you flashed him your signature, beautiful smile and looked up at him in the eyes with so much friendliness and openness in those eyes of yours... he felt himself fall into the insanity and the calmness of loving yo; whether he realized it or not at the time he was yours the minute he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of you.

miguel made it a point that he loved you, that he loved you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes; he loved you for your heart, your mind, your body, and just all of you. you make your husband go crazy with the smallest of things you do, and it's even better when you're oblivious to him being absolutely smitten with you. he had never thought he'd be the type to settle down and devote the rest of his life living quietly with someone as spectacular and worth loving, that someone being you.

he'd whimper silently into your ear when he's craving you and your love, when he's desperate and needs to be held and loved by you, the most perfect person to ever exist. he's a stern man who takes his responsibilities seriously, but he does lose his composure and all his restraint when you're out here being so lovable to him. "please don't go... i'll be lonely... the bed's so cold without you... you know i hate the cold..." he whines as you sigh and turn over on your side to face your husband. "it's cleaning day, miggy, i have to get up early."

miguel gave a long sigh and pulled you even closer to him with one hand. he kissed your forehead and grumbled. "i don't give a crap if it is, it's a rest day, mi vida; you need a rest from being away from me... i'm your husband for goodness' sake, and i'm tired of not being with you, so... por favor, mi amor? just a few more minutes in bed with me...?" he begged you like a child, pouting out his lower lip to try and make you feel sorry for him, but it instead made you giggle.

he chuckled lowly at your contagious giggling and brought his face closer to yours. "that's right, oh, i love it when you laugh... makes me forget all the shit i've had to deal with earlier this week." he mumbles as he pecks your lips gently and brings his hands up to either sides of your face, holding you close as he kisses you. "my precious spouse... i never wanna live another morning without you here." he mutters as he smiles at you, brushing away a stray lock of your hair and chuckles again, relishing the passing minutes with you close to him and in his hands, thanking his lucky stars that you became his one and only, and swears to you every day in his own ways that he will make you the happiest with him; for he's your husband, and he will always, always devote himself to you and love you unconditionally.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[waywardxwords]

Home

Summary: All you wanted was a place to call home with Dean. You envisioned a home in the mountains with spectacular views, a wrap-around porch with a swing and somewhere you could build a life. (I guess this could be classified as AU, as this takes place after Season 15 and [SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED SPN] Dean is still alive, clearly, in this story lol)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: Slight language, lots of fluff!

A/N: This was meant to be Day 7 of the #flufftober (@flufftober) challenge - thanks to the flu taking over my household for the last week, I've fallen off the posting wagon a bit. The prompt was: Porch Swing. I hope you enjoy!

There was an overwhelming chill to the bunker—more so than usual. A shudder fell over you as your sock covered toes padded towards the kitchen, the coolness cut through the wool. A frown pulled across your face in discomfort as you pulled your arms around your chest in hopes that you might find some warmth. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” his voice was extra raspy in the grogginess of the morning as you turned the corner into the kitchen. He took a pull from the steaming mug of coffee in his hand. 

“Ugh, Dean,” you grumbled as you searched for your own coffee mug. 

“Somebody’s chipper this morning,” he teased as his eyes moved over you. “You wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Yeah, the cold side,” as if on cue, your body shivered. Dean stood with a soft smile and made his way over to you in his gray t-shirt, black sweatpants and fluffy slippers. “See! It’s an icebox in here. You’re cold, too!” You pointed to his slippers, feeling validated as your body involuntarily shuddered once more. 

“Oh, please,” he cocked his head at you in a teasing manner. “Baby, I’m a freakin’ furnace.” He planted a soft kiss on your lips and wrapped you in his arms until you were firmly against his chest. His arms rubbed up and down your back, and you had to admit you did feel a little bit of warmth take over the cold. 

“Dean, this bunker is a dungeon,” your voice was hidden in the crook of his neck. 

“I know, I know,” he appeased, as this wasn’t the first time he had heard you complain about your living situation. 

“Sam and Eileen settled down in a house. I know it’s a sticky subject…” you pulled back just so you could see his face, your arms still wrapped around his lower back. 

He studied you for a moment before he spoke again. “I know, I hear you,” he sighed. “We won’t be in the bunker forever, I promise.”

You tried so hard not to roll your eyes, so you closed them instead. Take a breath, you told yourself; it’s not worth the fight. “I just…I just don’t understand why we can’t find a cute little cabin tucked away somewhere. A wrap-around porch, a swing that overlooks the mountains…I could make us sweet tea in the summer and apple cider in the fall.” 

“We will, baby. I promise,” he emphasized the last word. He moved his head down to drop another quick kiss on your lips. “How ‘bout you go get ready and we take a drive, hmm?” He proposed with a quick smack on your ass. 

“Dean,” you groaned, but you obliged as he pulled away from your embrace. 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he winked as he reached for his mug and took another sip. “I promise.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you muttered. The chill of the bunker returned without his contact, much to your disappointment. “You’ve been making a lot of promises, Dean Winchester.”

“All of which I fully intend to keep, if you just hurry the hell up,” you tried to escape him as he poked at your side. You shuffled down the hall of the bunker, cursing every step as you tried to find warmth. 

It wasn’t much warmer outside the bunker on this October morning, but the sunshine brought a much needed warmth as you sat in the passenger seat of the Impala. 

“You wanna tell me where we’re going?” You glanced at the man in the driver’s seat. The rising sun set him in a yellowish-orange glow that made your heart swell. A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced between you and the open Kansas road. 

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “It’s gonna be a little bit of a drive.” You chewed at the inside of your lip in thought. 

“Hmm,” you hummed. “Can you tell me how long of a drive?” Surprises weren’t your thing, and Dean knew that. 

He couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled in his chest as he shook his head but reached down in the car door for his phone. After a quick glance, and with the utmost certainty you couldn’t see his screen, he slid it back in the door. “About six and a half hours, give or take,” he glanced back at you with a smirk when he noticed the way your thoughts overtook the features across your face. 

“Six and a half hours?! Dean! Where the heck are we going?” Your voice had risen as you turned to stare at the man you had to remind yourself you loved in that moment. “I didn’t pack anything! I can’t imagine you’re gonna drive us there and back in one day…” your voice trailed off as you contemplated once more how much you hated surprises. 

“Alright, take a breath,” Dean grumbled but reached across the bench seat and placed a calming hand on your knee. You found his gaze once more. “I’ve got it covered, alright? You trust me?”

You did as he said and took a breath before you nodded. “I trust you.”

He nodded as well. “Good, now sit back and relax.” He reached for your hand and brought it to his lips lovingly, his stubble tickled your skin. 

You waited a moment, before you continued. “Can I ask you something? Since we have six and a half hours, and all…” you gave him a look.

He chuckled but nodded. “Shoot,” he encouraged.

“Why the bunker?” The question was simple, but you weren’t sure if you had asked it the right way. It was a thought that had played over and over in your brain as time had gone on. You had moved into the bunker, at Dean’s request, almost three years ago now. Sam had left almost a year ago to move into a home with Eileen. They were planning their wedding, and living a mostly normal life.

“Why do we live in the bunker?” He asked as he glanced at you for confirmation. You nodded, and he took a moment (or three) to contemplate the answer. He kept his eyes on the road as he continued. You were ready for him to give some sarcastic response or change the subject entirely, but to your surprise, he didn’t. “As long as I can remember, we’ve been on the road. After the fire…after mom–we were on the move.” You knew all of this already, but you didn’t interrupt him because it felt important. “I never really told anyone this, well–except Sam–but I always wanted a place to call home, you know? My own room, my own space, my own bed,” he cleared his throat, but continued. “When we found the bunker, it became that for me. I know it’s cold, and dark, and not exactly homey. But it became home.” He finally glanced to look at you. You stayed silent for a minute, but when he didn’t continue, you reached for his hand again.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I’ve been a jerk about the bunker. I know it’s home to you, and I’m sorry. I’m not trying to force you into something you don’t wanna do,” your gaze fell a bit.

“No, no,” he gave your hand a squeeze. “I do want to settle down. I want us to have our own place that isn’t damp and musty, and preferably doesn’t have concrete floors.” He gave you a small smile. “I just wanted to explain why it’s been hard for me to let go.”

“I get that,” you replied softly. “I support you a hundred percent. I won’t ask about it again, promise…Scout’s honor,” you held up three fingers with a smirk–the Girl Scout’s sign.

He chuckled and shook his head, but brought your hand back up to his lips. “I love you.”

“I know,” you smiled. You leaned towards him and planted a kiss against his stubble-covered cheek.

It was late afternoon by the time you were climbing the rolling hills of Missouri. Based on the time and how long you had been driving, you were officially intrigued. You turned to Dean with an inquisitive look, “The Ozarks?” You asked him.

A smile pulled at his lips but he kept his eyes on the road. “The Ozarks,” he repeated simply.

“Are we…are we staying in the Ozarks? Is this a vacation?” Hope bubbled in your chest. Dean wasn’t really the vacationing type. A vacation to Dean was going to Vegas, which you loved, but it was loud and dirty and exhausting–the complete opposite of what you’d call a relaxing getaway.

“Not exactly,” he responded simply. Huh. That didn’t give you much to go on. But you tried not to focus on your curiosity. This was important to Dean, whatever it was exactly. So instead, you tried to be calm, cool and collected.

The Impala took a few more turns before it pulled onto, what looked like, a private drive on the side of a hill. The old dirt road looked like it hadn’t been traveled in a while. Your eyes watched out the window at all of the incredibly tall trees and nature–it was so quiet and peaceful. The car slowed and you looked back out the windshield to spot a small log cabin tucked in the woods. It was absolutely beautiful and quaint. You silently prayed this wasn’t some job Dean had stumbled upon and decided to pick up, or that you weren’t visiting some long lost friend of his. The idea of spending a night in this quaint cabin with the man you loved sent the best kind of shivers up your spine (not the cold, musty bunker kind).

“Dean…” you breathed just as he slid the car into park. He was turned to you, a smile etched across his features.

“Let’s check it out,” he didn’t hesitate to open his car door, so you did the same. The air was cool up here, but it was a chill you didn’t mind. It was so fresh and almost freeing. There was a silence only interrupted by birds chirping and crickets starting to come out in the early evening hour. 

Dean came to your side and extended his hand for you to take. You followed his lead as he walked towards the steps that led up to the wrap-around porch. As you reached the top, you noticed a porch swing that looked hand crafted in the most beautiful way. You ran your hand over the smooth wood and felt your heart flutter. 

“Where are we?” You looked back at Dean—your heart hoped for a specific answer, but your brain reminded you to remain cautiously optimistic. Dean knew you hated surprises, and this would be a big one. 

“The Ozarks,” he smiled a cheesy grin, which made you roll your eyes yet again. He chuckled as he took a seat on the swing, and you followed suit next to him. When you did, you realized this swing faced the most amazing view of the rolling hills; you had never seen anything like it. It felt like you were in a postcard. 

“I’ve gathered that,” you muttered. “What is this place?”

“Well, I’ve uh, I’ve been looking,” he spoke slowly at first as you continued to admire the view. When you turned to look at him, you realized he was just watching you. “And I felt like this place checked all your boxes…”

You felt like your heart was in your throat. The familiar feeling of hopeful tears stung at your eyes, and you wanted to kick yourself for feeling emotional. “Dean, are you saying…” you couldn’t find the words and you were worried if you kept talking, your voice might crack. 

“If you love it, this could be home,” he spoke softly and his eyes watched you carefully. 

“Yes!” You couldn’t help the enthusiasm as you practically threw yourself at him, your arms tangled around his neck and the swing shifted with your weight on his lap. “God, yes!”

His laughter rumbled against your chest as you pressed against him. “You haven’t even seen inside yet,” he chuckled. You pulled back and pulled his face to yours for a kiss. Your thumbs smoothed against his stubble as your eyes danced between his. 

“It’s perfect, Dean,” you whispered as you brought your lips to his once more. “Do you love it? I’m sorry, I got so excited and I wanna make sure you love it, I don’t want you to do this just because of me…”

“I love it,” he cut off your rambling. 

“I don’t want you to feel pressured. I know you have a soft spot for the bunker and that it’s your home,” your fingers instinctively found the hair at the nape of his neck where you played and twirled with the short strands there. 

“Home,” he started as he brought his hand up to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. His gaze found your eyes again before his hand gently cupped your cheek as he continued, “is wherever you are.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little slice of fluff :)

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lacilou @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma

[kellycataclysm]

The story so far for Lyra and Harvey

This is long so settle in.

Let's begin with a link to my AO3.

The Words We Never Say is the story that started it all and is very nearly finished! Two chapters to go!

You could read it if you like, or you could start back at the beginning in Year Zero/One. Allow me to give you a suggested storyline to follow.

Please be reminded that the content I write is NSFW as I am writing adult relationships and they contain adult situations.

Meant To Be - A 'What If...?' tale set in the summer of Year Zero, a turning point in Lyra's life and a chance meeting with someone that may leave a lasting impression...

Ask Me Anything - Two flirtatious friends. Only one bed. An opportunity to get to know each other a little better.

Whispered Dreams of Stardust - The night of their first kiss and what happens next.

I Really Should Go - The words of two very polite people who really don't want to leave. Harvey and Lyra's first night together.

Walk of Shame - The morning after the night before for Harvey.

Always in my Dreams - Takes place after they said those three little words. (Let's get coffee... no, you know the ones I mean. ily.)

All you need is love and a good cup of coffee - Year One from Lyra's perspective.

NEW WIP - Snowbound - Harvey's Birthday, year one. Lyra and Harvey barely even notice the snowstorm outside when they only have eyes for each other. Harvey asks to try something for his birthday and Lyra is only too happy to go along for the ride. It all starts with a blindfold...

Picture Perfect - Harvey explores his feelings for Lyra while away at a medical conference.

One Weekend in Winter - Lyra and Harvey are reunited after his trip. A special moment in their relationship.

The Magic of Falling Snowflakes - Inspired by the spectacular art that I was gifted as part of our Winter Star gift exchange. Harvey moves in with Lyra and finally finds his home.

Steal Your Heart - Year One from Harvey's perspective.

A Sense of You - A fluffy story of one winter night just after Harvey moves in with Lyra.

Mirror, Mirror - Slow dancing to Billie Holiday. Champagne kisses and fireworks. New Year's Eve for Lyra and Harvey.

NEW WIP - As yet untitled one-shot. Harvey takes care of everyone. He definitely takes care of Lyra, in so many ways. Wouldn't it be nice, especially on their honeymoon, if they switched things up a little?

Wild Hearts in the Wildflowers - Lyra and Harvey in their honeymoon period, at the Flower Dance.

My long fic, full of melancholy, yearning, fluff, and spice takes place at the end of year six, in which Stardust and Harvey have been together for five years and need some help remembering what brought them together in the first place.

Year Six also includes a small one-shot, told through the eyes of their daughter, called The Fairy Garden.

Thank you so much to the ever-generous, supremely sweet, and endlessly talented @saradika-graphics for these absolutely beautiful dividers. Go see and read everything they do! All utterly wonderful!

[pikachu66]

"Shock me! Make me feel better!"

❤️, 🚢, Peter Criss x Ace Frehley.

December 12th, 1976.

Ace was getting ready silently, which was unusual. This morning, he and Gene had gotten into an argument. When he arrived for rehearsal, the Demon made a snarky comment about Ace's drinking habits. And knowing those two and their stubbornness, it escalated quickly to the point where Peter and Paul had to stop them before they could murder each other.

So here he was, trying to be the bigger person. But honestly, he wanted to slap Gene so badly. Peter grabbed a chair and sat beside him.

"Hey," said the Catman, with a gentle smile.

"Hi..." Ace seemed a bit out of it.

"Don't listen to Gene, he's an idiot."

"I know. He's just—ugh."

"Guys, 5 minutes," said a staff member, reminding them that they had to go on stage and start the concert soon.

Tonight, they were performing in Lakeland, Florida. They chose to make a spectacular entrance: "Detroit Rock City" would open the show, and the members would appear on platforms on each side of the drum kit—Ace and Paul on the left, Gene on the right—then they would walk down some stairs. Simple, right?

They all got into position, in the dark. Paul looked at Ace and smiled confidently, and Ace responded with a wink and a small smile. A voice suddenly yelled:

"You wanted the best, you got the best, the hottest band in the world: KISS!!!!"

And with that, the show began. The Starchild, as usual, ran down the stairs, while Ace, who had very bad balance, took his time. But just to secure himself a bit more, he grabbed onto the railing. He instantly stopped playing, feeling an electric shock go through his body. His grip tightened around the railing against his will. He stood still, only one thought running through his mind as he saw his life flashing before his eyes: <Am I gonna die?>

Suddenly, his hand shook, forcing him to let go of the railing he had been holding onto for what seemed like an eternity. He felt himself falling as everything around him turned black.

Peter saw everything—from Ace grabbing onto the railing to him letting go and falling, not even 10 seconds later. His drum tech, Chuck Elias, was the first to reach the unconscious Spaceman, quickly followed by Peter. The Catman could hear his own heartbeat echoing through his body as stress got the better of him. Everything just seemed to speed up. There was the staff shaking Ace, Gene and Paul looking genuinely worried, and... he stirred and opened his eyes. He was okay. Ace was okay... but the staff members took him away. And without losing a second, Peter ran backstage to his beloved, who looked completely dazed. He grabbed him in his arms and held him tight, as if to never let him go. Behind the curtain, the fans' chanting was overwhelming: "We want Ace! We want Ace! We want Ace!"

"You think you can do it, pal?" asked Bill Aucoin, their manager.

"...I don't know."

Ace's voice was barely a whisper now. He looked down at his hand. His fingertips were burnt. That shock of electricity that struck him wasn't small, and those burns were the proof.

"I can't feel my hands," said Ace, still dazed.

But as the fans' chants grew louder, Ace's motivation grew stronger. Their voices slowly brought him back to himself. He grabbed his guitar and slowly got up from the ground.

"Let's do this."

They walked back on stage, and the Spaceman got a standing ovation as the show started again. From behind his drum kit, Peter kept a careful eye on Ace, impressed by his resilience yet still worried.

/Timeskip to after the show 'cause I'm lazy af/

The guys were packing up, getting ready to go back to the hotel. Peter approached his boyfriend, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Love?"

"Hm?" Ace answered, still working on packing up his Gibson Les Paul.

"...You need to go to the hospital." And just with these words, Peter managed to grasp Ace's full attention.

"No..."

"This wasn't a question." His tone was strict, hiding his own worry.

"But I'm okay now..."

"Do you have a PhD to affirm that?"

"Kitten..."

"No. You are going. Period."

"...Can I go tomorrow instead?" Ace asked pleadingly, as a last resort.

"No."

"Please?"

"I said no."

"Pretty please?"

"Are you deaf?"

"Pretty pretty please?" Ace asked while looking up at him with puppy dog eyes.

"...Fine, tomorrow. But I'm keeping an eye on you. Any problem or any little thing different from usual, and it's the hospital."

"Deal!"

Ace hugged his boyfriend, satisfied enough with that answer. They both got in the car to go back to the hotel. Once there, Peter drew Ace a bath, where they ended up both relaxing together, snuggling against each other. After the long, warm bath, they went to bed, holding each other close, letting themselves get the rest they deserved more than anyone else.

---

There we go! This is my first fanfiction, and it is inspired from a real story thathappened to Ace. I used a bunch of news articles and interviews to write this my own way 😊

I reall hope you enjoyed reading it and that you are gonna be staying with me for the rest of the way.

I am open to positive criticism, since i really need to improve.

And with that, have a good day ☀️

[abusivelittlebunny]

Can't stop thinking of this fic idea I had for Logan x Donald that's making me so soft it hurts....

Falling in and out of Love

Basically Logan and Donald settle down in a little house on the edge of a small town in Canada, to raise Laura. Logan is sure it's only temporary at first, he only started fucking Donald a couple of months ago "out of accident" as he claims ("Accident? Did you fall and land dick first in his ass?" Is what Logan's few friends ask him); they're not in a relationship. They're not. Donald just took it upon himself to help them find a place and move in too and share a bed with Logan; and Logan would love to kick him out or kill him (or so he claims) but the bad thing is, Donald is much better at the whole playing house than he is. Donald gets Laura into the local school with extra classes to catch up with her peers and get a good education, and he gets Logan a surprisingly well enough paying job as a driver in this new town ("Did you suck or threaten the guy who'd be my boss?" Logan sneers and Donald just coos "Shut the fuck up, you ungrateful dick." And adds a little kiss on his cheek). Besides that Donald is better at upkeeping the house and he's... a fantastic cook. Logan hates to admit it but it's true.

It's not some gourmet culinary shit but food that warms your soul and is always seasoned right; hell, even coffee tastes better when Donald makes it even though it's just the same instant powder and hot water. Laura, who's been their grumpy edgy princess this whole time warms up to Donald surprisingly fast from all those delicious home-made casseroles, muffins, fried chicken, pancakes and waffles he makes that are just mind-numbingly good. He got the waffle-maker from the house of a guy he was hired to beat some money out of (because of course HE couldn't be fucked to get a normal job, no, he's now working for some agency to be a little reinforcer and hit-man for hire with his other mercenary dogs following loyally behind him). He was so happy when he brought it home too, beaming like the sun and squealing like some little girl about how happy he was that now he could make Laura some killer waffles. Logan first rolled his eyes but those waffles WERE fucking spectacular.

The situation quickly changed from a temporary arrangement to a weirdly comfortable and domestic one: Logan woke up every day to Donald nuzzling against his jaw, peppering him with sleepy kisses and rubbing at his morning wood. If Logan was too sleepy still to roll over and fit himself between Donald's thighs to lazily rut into him eased by the plentiful mess he left in his hole the night before, Donald would just get under the covers and blow him expertly, swallowing his load down and kissing up his torso afterwards, planting a cheeky kiss to Logan's lips that always made him grimace before getting out of bed and pulling on some sweatpants to go down and make breakfast while Logan went off to shower and get ready for work. He'd always come downstairs to see Donald in his cute little apron swaying his hips to some old country music that made Logan roll his eyes but the moment he'd sit down at the table Donald would pour him his coffee and give him a warm plate of buttered toast, scrambled eggs and bacon. Sometimes he switched the menu up, but the breakfast was always filling but not weighing him down. Laura would come downstairs, eager to receive her portion and Donald's sweet treat of the day, be it waffles, pancakes, cookies or muffins, that even Logan couldn't deny himself a couple of.

Donald was just... like a perfect old-school housewife from the movies, keeping his and Laura's spirits up in the early morning and packing them both lunches to take in to school or work, with plenty of fruit and veggies to keep them healthy. Donald had work start later in the day so he sent them on their way with a kiss to Laura's forehead and another kiss on Logan's lips right outside the door so the nosy neighbors could get an eyeful as Donald purred "have a nice day, honey♡". Not what they expected of the tatted up mercenary with the robot arm for certain, but Logan did have people in the grocery store tell him what a lovely family he has while he was struggling to find everything Donald wrote up on his shopping list. After work he'd come home to Donald cooking dinner with Laura studying and doing her homework at the dining table so Donald could ask her about her schoolwork and even help out, and Logan would just sit near on the sofa, watching with utter peace before they sat down to have dinner together. He never really thought he'd have this, this domestic bliss, watching his ...daughter and his.... well. Partner? It seemed they involuntarily slipped into something like that. But watching them talk and laugh and share a really fucking good meal and afterwards curl up on the couch and watch a movie or anything really that was on the TV before Laura headed off to bed with a yawned good night to them both.

And then it was just him and Donald snuggled up, quiet for a while, before Donald kissed his neck and whispered "I missed you today," and then he'd kiss back instead of admitting that he missed him too and before long they were fucking hot and heavy on the couch (sometimes slipping down onto the floor) with Donald's arms and legs wrapped around him tight enough to bruise but Logan gripped him with just as much need. Donald would give out those sweet little noises of his and gasp for more more always more, but try to keep it quiet in case Laura was still awake. It felt good, crashing down between Donald's thighs after a long day and rut out the daily pent up frustrations, but what he really liked was after that, after he let Donald go to take a shower while he washed the dishes, after that, when he was warm and relaxed and done with every chore of the day and he went up to their room, and changed for bed, and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth while watching his pretty boy clean his pretty body before helping him towel off between kisses and then. Then. When they had nothing else on their mind but feeling each other and they could take their time as they stumbled into bed to fuck to their heart's delight. When he didn't feel rushed by his own needs so he could eat Donald out until he was a shaking whimpering mess, or when he could let his boy take control and tie him to the bed and ride him to heaven and back or when they just took their time touching and kissing and... Logan didn't want to use the phrase "making love" but that was exactly what it was. And Donald wasn't the type to be up for any of that sappy shit before, but things were different now, and even if they ended up fucking hard and brutal and nasty four times in a row, they always made time for a final soft and loving round where they ended up falling asleep tangled in each other with Logan's cock still lodged in Donald's warmth.

But then one day, maybe six or eight months after they moved in, Logan came home to Donald not being home. He didn’t think much of it, Donald sometimes arrived home late, blaming work, sometimes even arriving in the early morning if a job proved to be needing it. Logan just heated up the leftover pasta bake they had and fed Laura and himself before plopping down to watch TV. Laura watched it too for a while but headed off to bed earlier. It wasn't the same without Donald constantly commenting to what was on the screen. He initially thought he'd wait for Donald to come home but after midnight he thought he might as well do all that waiting in bed.

But Donald didn't show up, not even in the morning. It didn't taste as good when he made his own buttered toast and coffee, and he could see Laura looking around for Donald before resigning to Logan's scrambled eggs, which were nowhere near as good as Donald's. They were just eggs, and she could make do for a day, no? He gave her some money to buy lunch, but ready made sandwiches seemed like crap after Donald's carefully created homemade packed lunches of joy. Nevermind. They still had the leftover casserole for dinner at least, and Logan wrapped up the last piece for when Donald comes home. But he didn't come home again that night and Logan packed that piece up for Laura to take in for lunch the next morning.

Laura didn't say anything just munched on her overcooked egg on toast. Logan thought about where Donald could be all day through, the bastard left no messages, and he even attempted to call him at his lunch break, but there was no answer. He knew there was no reason to be frustrated about the situation but when he got home late that night and he was met with Laura asking what's for dinner all he could do is sigh and curse Pierce while dialing up the local pizza joint. He thought of Donald coming home late that night, and how he'd be grumpy fuck with that blond bastard for just taking off without a single message and how Donald would have to be sucking his dick nonstop for a week if he wanted Logan's forgiveness and how good it will feel to have him grovel and whine for cuddles at night which Logan will only give if he's in a generous mood. He went to bed warmed by these spiteful thoughts.

But he felt like a failed parent when all he could offer up for next morning's breakfast was leftover pizza; but at least Laura didn't complain openly, she must have seen the toll Donald being gone took on him. He attempted to cook that night. Strong emphasis on attempt because Donald really made baking a casserole look easy when it was really not and they had to end up scavenging through the half-over-, half-undercooked pasta bake Logan could come up with. Laura ended up sneaking a bag of tortilla chips to her room that they'd only ever open for movie nights and retired early saying she has a lot of studying to do. They all knew Laura liked to study right there where they were, but without Donald, Logan wasn't that great a company. He blamed having a rough day at work on smashing that awful casserole against the wall that he had to clean up for two solid hours, but Laura didn't say anything when she saw the stain on the wallpaper or the bits in the trash the next morning.

The fourth morning with no Donald. Logan drank himself to the floor after the casserole incident the night before so with his pounding headache all he could manage was coffee and butter sort of smeared on toast. Laura saw how he looked like a sack of wet shit ran over by a truck and attempted to cook an egg which resulted in an abstract sunny side up that made her finally ask "When is he coming back?" To which Logan could only groan, "I don't know, kid. I really don't know." The night before, when he was fucking raging at his own incompetence he thought if Donald walked through the door now, he'd punch his lights out for being gone without a single call or message. Beat him to a pulp and then fuck him so hard he'd beg for him to stop with tears. But after that day, where he left six messages on Donald's phone and bought ready-made meals and cans of soup to make dinner out of and watch Laura eat with no joy whatsoever and a very pitying look thrown at his direction, he went to bed thinking he'd do anything to wake up to Donald in bed with him. He wouldn't be mad. He'd just ask him not to do it again.

But he didn't. Fifth morning without Donald left him feeling heavy like a stone as he made sunny side up eggs and buttered toast for breakfast. Laura wrinkled her nose when she bit into hers and the yolk spilled out. "He always makes it just right so it doesn't get all runny." She muttered to which Logan replied after taking a sip of his coffee that seemed too fucking bitter that morning with, "Well, he's not here, is he?" Laura didn't say anything else. When it was just the two of them, it was very quiet. Donald previously joked that it was because they were so fucking similar, that if they had nothing to say they just didn't fucking say a thing. When Donald was around though, they could talk like a normal fucking family. Family? What family? They were not a family. Laura was just fucking grown out of his DNA and Pierce was a fucking enemy of his before they stumbled into a fuckbuddy relationship and since Logan killed Donald's previous boss, he wouldn't be getting paid for capturing him so he just stuck around for some dick. Logan was only filling his head with those stupid old movies Donald loved to watch where the mommy and daddy were living in domestic bliss taking care of their child and he projected that fairy tale nuclear family idea onto their fucked up situation. His dinner was beer and macaroni salad from the gas station he brought home after he volunteered for an extra late shift just so he wouldn't have to face Laura that night, but checking the trash at least he knew she ate one of the pre-packaged sandwiches he got her for dinner.

Sixth morning Logan woke up to Laura crunching down on cereal at the breakfast table. He not only overslept, but he never made it to his bedroom (his bed felt too cold without Donald and he thought he was going slightly crazy being there but not feeling Donald's body in his arms). He only had time to pour some coffee into his thermos and Laura handed him a mugful of cereal to eat while he drove her to school. "Where did you get this?" Logan asked while driving, the cereal in the mug surprisingly not a bad idea, and Laura just shrugged.

"You always give me too much money for lunch. I had extra to buy some cereal and snacks on my way back from school."

Logan sighed, "That's for you to save up and buy yourself something nice." Laura frowned at that.

"But that's what I did."

"No, I don’t mean food. I buy you food. That's for me to do."

"Why?"

Because I'm your father and I need to take care of you even if I'm bad at it, is what Logan wanted to say but the words stuck in his throat. "Just because. I'll buy you cereal and whatever you like just... write me a list, okay?"

Laura sighed, and it would have been so much like Logan if not for the dramatic eyeroll, which was so much like Pierce it made Logan's heart clench.

On his lunch break he didn't have the patience for his coworkers; usually they tried to make friends, banter, joke about with him, they've been teasing him too lately for being a sour cunt because his "he-missus" was gone on a work trip, but he couldn't be bothered to deal with them right now, even if they didn't mean any harm, so he went into town to grab a bite at a good enough diner, the one he went to with Pierce and Laura the first night they arrived in the town, tired and hungry. Then the food felt like fucking heaven, but then again, he got spoiled on Donald's cooking since.

When he went in to order himself a burger he didn't expect to see Laura sitting in a booth doing her school work with Pierce's sunglasses perched on her head with a half eaten burger and milkshake by her side. Logan walked over to her, and when she finally noticed him, she looked like she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Logan just sat opposite of her in the booth and corrected himself to the waitress saying he'll dine in instead of take away, "And, I'll be paying for my daughter's meal as well, okay?" And the lady just nodded, but when he turned back to Laura, the sunglasses on her head were pulled down to cover her eyes.

"I told you I'll pay for your food." Logan sighed but Laura just looked away, out the window, taking sips of her milkshake. She usually preferred the chocolate one but now she was drinking strawberry, Donald's favorite.

"You are. You gave me money for it this morning. The school cafeteria just sucks."

"Don't you still have classes?"

"Not for another hour. I still can't take some classes together with the others because I'm too behind. But Miss Bundy said I'm catching up quick in the afternoons."

"That's good to hear." It was really Donald's merit for helping Laura study normally every day after school; Logan wasn't good at that stuff. "I'm sorry I can't help you like he does."

Laura shrugged, knowing instantly who Logan was referring to. "It's not like he's a hyper genius or something. Sometimes I tell him stuff he didn't know or at least pretends he didn't to make me feel smarter. But it's still nice. Even when he curses out my math homework and he asks me to explain it because he's too dumb for it." She hid her smile in her palm, resting her chin on it and gazing out the window to avoid Logan's gaze. "It's fun with him."

Logan swallowed thickly. "I know, babygirl."

"I miss him." Laura sounded very small then.

"I know." Me too.

"Do you think he'll come back soon?" Laura bit at the nail of her thumb. If Donald was here, he'd tut at her playfully and tell her she shouldn't ruin her nails like that. She did it before, in the beginning, but stopped the habit after Donald painted her nails fun colors she liked. He really had a knick for this parenting thing unlike Logan.

"That, I don't know." Logan looked outside too, all of a sudden unable to look at the orange lenses of the sunglasses. Pierce had a couple of the same pair stashes all over because he hated losing them, so no wonder Laura decided to nick one.

"Do you think he'll come back at all?" Laura muttered, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Maybe he got tired of us."

"I don't think so." Logan tried to reassure her, but hearing her so sad also broke his heart.

"Then maybe he's dead."

Logan didn't say anything. Maybe he was. He could very well be. Logan killed mercenaries like Donald without a thought in packs before. The fact that he didn't end up killing Donald when they first met in itself was a miracle but Donald and his kind knew the work they were getting themselves into paid so well because they could die any day easily. Maybe someone like Logan, or some rival gang took it upon themselves to off Donald who was in their way, an everyday occurrence on the job for them and Donald's current employer couldn't be fucked to send a message to his pet soldiers' families that hey, you just lost the love of your life and the closest thing your child has to a parent besides you, you, who is an utter shit at parenting on your own. Donald could be lying in bits in a warehouse, his blood already dry on the concrete and if his boss is gracious enough he'll have his and his coworkers' bodies scraped up and thrown in the river, if not blow the whole place up to give them an unmarked mass grave.

Meanwhile Logan is left here in fucking agony watching their daughter try to hide her tears behind Pierce's sunglasses and seem strong when the family she thought she could have after a nightmare of a childhood got ripped away from her and stomped upon.

"He could be." Logan finally said, clearing his throat to not seem too choked up about it, and Laura turned to him, looking fucking furious.

"How could you say that?!"

Logan didn't expect the outrage at all, "What? You said it first, I just said he could be-,"

"No! You should say he's not and that he'll come home!"

"That's only in those fucking cheesy movies-," Logan tried to wave her off but that just angered her more.

"No it isn't! If you love someone you should have hope! You should have hope he's alive and that he comes back! You should be telling me it's okay and everything will be okay!" She lost her battle with trying to hold her tears back as she slammed her hands on the table but Logan himself was too fucking heartbroken as well not to yell back.

"But I can't fucking tell you that because I don't think that! I could fucking lie if that's what you want but the reality is he could be gutted in some ditch never to be heard of again by now! And no amount of love will make me think everything will be fine because that's not how the world works!"

Laura stood up and screamed profanities at him in Spanish that Logan had only a vague idea of what they could mean before she took her notebook and bag and stormed out of the diner. Logan tried to shout after her, but she was gone. Better that way. Logan truly didn't know how he could've remedy the situation. He slumped down back into his booth just as his plate of food arrived, which he asked the waitress to wrap up together with the rest of Laura's food for take away. He didn't have the stomach to eat lunch and ended up eating it instead for dinner, leaving Laura's portion at her door that night, because she refused to come out and talk to him.

Logan didn't drink that night, just took Donald's hoodie out of the closet, the one he slept in when he wasn't naked, and he burrowed his face in it, inhaling the familiar scent as he laid in the bed that felt too big and empty now. Usually he was grumbling about Pierce hogging up all the space and how they needed a bigger bed but not now. Now he sniffed at the collar of the hoodie and wished for Pierce's body wrapped around his, cuddling close with his warm breath against his lips and his eyes sleepily blinking up at him as he grinned and said something coy. He faintly realized that he hasn't gotten off since the last morning that he saw Donald.

That day Pierce woke him with his warm wet mouth around his cock, sucking slowly, his head bobbing beneath the blanket, taking his time to lick and suck on his balls too and humm as he deepthroated Logan's thick shaft, nuzzling against his crotch. Logan pet his hair sleepily before turning over, to fuck Pierce's skull into the mattress the way he liked, humping his face shallowly because Pierce could take a throat-fucking so well. He spilled down his throat when he should've pulled out and fucked Donald's tight ass until he was unable to fucking walk, not just dump a load into his mouth like a lazy pig that could only enjoy a blowjob but was too tired to ruin his partner's sweet spot. He shouldn't have bothered showering, he should've been bending Donald over the kitchen counter and rutting into that sweet fucking cunt of his, making him cry out and cum over and over again, have him scratch the wooden surface to shreds. Instead of going to work he should've been eating Donald out until he was a sopping wet fucking mess, whining for his cock, and then he should've sucked on his perfect fucking tits until they were fucking bloodshot and unbearably tender. Then he'd have fucked him against the wall so hard, in thar brutal savage pace Donald likes and he'd have played along with Donald's fucking daddy kink and asked him if he likes daddy's cock deep in his little womb breeding him up? Then after sex, when they'd be sharing a cigar while still naked and sticky, he would have asked if Donald wants more kids? If they should get married and adopt another one or two they could raise as their own? If Donald could be a stay at home parent or just find a less dangerous fucking job so Logan wouldn't be worrying about him so fucking much.

That's what he would've done if he knew he wouldn't be seeing Donald again if he doesn't play his cards right.

Because here he was now, ruining his own orgasm that he built up with his coarse hand, which he no longer had a taste for and he just groaned into the hoodie that he wrapped around Donald's pillow so he could hold it through the night: utterly miserable.

Laura said that if you love someone you should have hope. He didn't know how Laura knew that Logan loved Donald even before he himself knew that, but as he dozed off, he found himself chuckling bitterly at that sentence and his last thought was hoping that Donald comes through the door that night and cuddles him to sleep like he used to do.

Seventh morning without Donald he found himself strangely calm. Like he made peace with his situation. Or he just got tired fighting it and resigned himself to losing with dignity. He played one of Donald's old country songs he loved so much and he hummed along it while he made himself coffee and poured Laura cereal, and on a second thought, himself as well. When Laura, who came downstairs determined to not speak to him and remain angry, stared at him in disbelief, he just shrugged.

"Don't tell him I like this sugary shit when he comes back. He'll start putting me on a fucking diet."

"He won't come back." She muttered, but Logan just shook his head and looked at her reassuringly.

"You don't know that. He could be coming back today."

"How do you know that?'

"I don't." Logan lifted his bowl and downed the rest of his cereal how Donald would with his sweet porridges that drove Logan insane before. When he was done he looked back to Laura who didn't miss the source of the habit. "But that doesn't stop me from hoping."

The stars that appeared in Laura's eyes were priceless, truly. She bit her lip and didn't say anything, but when they walked through the door towards the car she took his hand like a child and Logan squeezed it. They weren't good at words, the two of them, but they could still tell each other what they mean without it. In the car, Logan played the rest of Donald's country Playlist, and Laura wore his sunglasses openly through the ride before they arrived to her school.

"Bye, dad. Love you." She said quickly as she closed the door and rushed off before Logan could fully comprehend it, but then he was late for work twenty minutes trying to comprehend it without crying on the side of the road.

At work he engaged in conversation one of his coworkers, which surprised everybody, and asked him about easy to make home-cooked recipes. He made a list and went to the store after, and worked hard but patiently on that cheesy broccoli pasta. He may had to redo it twice, but he didn't give up. It paid off in the end by the look on Laura's face. She had seconds.

"Alright, I'm gonna put the rest away for if he showes up tonight, if not, you can take it for lunch tomorrow, deal?" Logan asked nonchalantly, and Laura nodded with a hopeful smile.

They sat down and watched an old western movie, one of Donald's favorites after dinner, something they haven't done in a week now, and Logan watched with a small smile a Laura's yawns turned bigger and more frequent until she completely dozed off leaning against his side. He gently scooped her up and off the couch after turning the TV off, and took her to her bedroom where he tucked her into bed gently. He kissed her little forehead and whispered a "Goodnight, kiddo," before he turned to leave, but stopped as an insistent hand tugged on his sleeve.

"You'll wake me up if mommy gets home, right?" Laura asked with a sleepy kitten yawn, looking adorably soft. "Promise me."

"I promise. Sleep now, love." He didn't question why Pierce was now mommy in her mind but he didn't think he'd mind.

"Okay, goodnight, daddy." Laura closed her eyes, and Logan swallowed thickly; he didn't know if his heart could take being called dad by his daughter twice the same day when she has never done it before. Nor did she call Pierce mommy or anything like it before.

"Goodnight, Laura." He whispered before planting another little kiss on her forehead, getting up slowly and shutting the door quietly as he left.

He wiped at his wet eyes as he went downstairs to wash up, a smile still stuck on his face, and he thought about how he should learn how to make Laura some pancakes just as the front door opened.

It felt so surreal now, seeing Pierce walk through the door, like it was a dream come to life. Logan was stuck standing there like he just saw a fucking ghost as Pierce tiredly shrugged down his bag and coat; he looked like he's truly been through it; his one whole arm was in a cast in a sling wrapped around his neck, his trousers and shirt weren't ones he's ever worn before and were probably bought recently but they were still caked in dirt and blood. His prosthetic hand was missing two fingers and his hair looked damp with sweat, matted with even more blood. He had bandages around his neck and shoulder with a dark purple bruise fading around his right cheekbone and his split lip bled as he grinned wide at the sight of Logan. He was still so beautiful.

"Honey, I'm home. Did you miss me?"

Instead of answering, Logan found himself crossing the distance to the door in record speed and pressing Donald's sore and broken body against it forcefully, not caring about the soft gasp of pain leaving his lips because he was crashing his own against them immediately. It was always Donald who was desperate before, not to say he wasn't now, but Logan could easily outmatch him at the moment, kissing him like he was trying to devour him alive, wrapping his hands around him until Donald cried out in pain.

"Fuck, I have a couple fractures ribs, go easy on me, big guy."

"You're never leaving ever again." Logan growled against his mouth, keeping Donald's jaw in his hand to make him focus. "I don't give a fuck what your boss says, I don't give a fuck how much money he offers. You're never leaving my sight again-"

"I can't even go to the store? Or the bathroom?" Donald's chuckle was cut short by Logan's glare. "Alright, okay, alright, I'm not gonna leave, I promise. This was just... a major shitshow, okay? I didn't expect to be gone this long at all. I've already packed my boys up and told them we quit. My unit is going where I'm going. This shit we've been through, I'm telling you-,"

"You can tell me later." Logan took Pierce by the hand, dragging him through the living room and up the stairs.

"Right, I need a shower, good call-,"

"No, you need to say hi to our daughter first."

"Our... daughter?" Donald stopped in his tracks just as they reached Laura's door, his eyes so big and shocked by Logan's words. One of them was bloodshot.

"She asked me to wake her up when mommy arrives back home. She made me promise." Logan watched as Pierce's eyes softened and welled up with warm tears, his laugh sounding like diamonds as he sobbed into it. Logan pulled him close by the back of his neck, planting a kiss to his temple before looking him in the eye, "She missed you a lot. I missed you a lot."

"Careful, I'll think you're in love with me or something," Pierce's smile was so fucking bright Logan had to kiss it again. And again.

"Think later, say hi to Laura now, you dumb cunt."

Pierce giggled and kissed back before opening the door. His "Hi, baby," was so soft and sweet, Laura only sighed at it first, turning in her sleep until Donald sat down on the edge of her bed and gently cooed her awake with light pecks to her cheek. "Laura, sweetheart. Mommy's home."

Laura finally blinked her eyes open and when she caught sight of Pierce she threw her arms around him immediately, squeezing him hard, but Donald only laughed, even if in pain.

Maybe if he was a better father, Logan would've told Laura to go back to sleep, it was late after all but instead he let her drag the both of them down by their hands to show Pierce "the delicious dinner daddy made" which made Donald fucking squeal and look at him with fucking heart eyes.

Laura forced Donald to eat the portion they left for him while she talked about their week without him, and Donald had to admit that was some good food. She was like a completely new child, you couldn't stop her from talking your ear off until she broke off in yawns again, sleepiness finding her once more, and she held onto Logan's and Donald's hands again as this time they were the ones guiding her back to bed.

"You're not gonna leave again, right?" Laura yawned once she was tucked into bed once more.

"No, baby, I won't. I promise." He wiggled his robotic hand's remaining digits. "I'd make it a pinky one, but some son of a gun crushed it. But I'll be busy staying at home and getting better and then I'll make a new one and then I'll make it into a pinky promise, okay?"

"Mhm, okay," Laura closed her eyes as Donald kissed her forehead and whispered, "goodnight, mommy. Love you."

"Love you too, babygirl." Donald's voice broke adorably and he sniffed back some tears before they could erupt as he made his way to the door.

Logan couldn't stop smiling at him even as Donald rolled his eyes at his smug expression, and bid Laura goodnight again before closing the door behind themselves.

"Fucking hell." Pierce whispered to himself before chuckling and dropping his forehead on Logan's shoulder. "We're parents."

"Yep." Logan chuckled back, rubbing his hands over Donald's back and kissing his neck.

"Never would've thought... but... it's nice. Real nice."

"It is."

"You like it too?" Donald peered up at him with a tired but hopeful smile. "This arrangement?"

"Yeah, I think I do." Logan smirked as he added, "For a while. Maybe longer, if I do."

"You remembered that one?" Donald laughed with big eyes and snuggled further into Logan's embrace.

"How could I forget that country shit you play daily?" Logan teased, dragging Donald along to their bedroom without breaking their embrace, stepping together like fucking penguins and it made Pierce giggle. "Besides, Laura wanted me to play it a couple times while you were gone."

"Aww, my baby got my good taste," Pierce grinned up at Logan as he shoved him gently down on the bed so he could help him undress. He really let himself become a pillow princess out of exhaustion, barely moving on his own as Logan removed his clothes.

"So it's over?" Logan asked after a minute of comfortable silence as he peeled Donald's undershirt off of him.

"Yeah. Done deal. The bag? Filled it up with a bit of extra cash I borrowed for my troubles. They won't come looking for it, trust me. I made sure," Donald had that smile on that told him he probably killed most if not all of his bosses. He sighed as Logan started taking his trousers off and leaned back to raise his hips. His torso was littered with red and purple bruises. "It wasn't a good one. The company and the job. I lost one too many good men. Besides, it'll be a pain in the ass to repair my arm without use of the other so I need to find a good mechanic. Fucking animal tried to crush it to bits."

"I'll help. Just tell me what to do." Logan hummed as he threw Donald's clothes in the laundry basket. He frowned as he realized something. "No underwear?"

"It's a bit more complicated than repairing a car, Logan." Pierce massaged his nosebridge, wincing at the cut on it.

"Can't be harder than your fucking five star pasta bake. Come on. Just tell me what to do and let me help." Logan walked back to the bed, watching Pierce's beautiful body beneath him and thumbed at the bruises on his thighs. They had a sort of fingerprint quality to them. "Where did your underwear go?"

Donald snorted, "Don't know if you noticed, but most of the clothes I left in are gone. Got fucking ruined. I got the new ones at a gas station. Long story."

Logan quirked an eyebrow and fit his hands on the marks, spreading Donald's thighs and making him wince as he lifted his hips.

"Love the enthusiasm, honey, but I do need a shower first." Pierce bit his lip and caught Logan's hand before it could reach his ass. "Let me clean up, okay?"

"Did someone fuck you?" Logan asked bluntly, and everything was still for a minute.

Donald swallowed heavily before managing a weak chuckle. "My boss wasn't very happy when he heard I have a hubby and kid at home that I want to return to."

Logan's jaw clenched at the implication and he placed Donald's hips back down, leaning over him to kiss his face all over while growing, "I'll fucking tear him to pieces, I'll fucking rip him to shreds-,"

"It's okay, hon, I took care of it, okay? Most of them anyway. Left some for you to have fun with, though, because I'm such a good wife." Pierce cooed, raining his own kisses onto Logan, sighing into their embrace. "I'm just a bit sore now, so we gotta put that fun on hold for a minute, yeah? I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Those fuckers do though. I'll hunt down every last one of them." Logan growled into their kiss, and Donald wrapped his legs around him, purring.

"Such a good hubby you are, you know that? Makes me think you might actually love me, or something," Pierce chuckled, but Logan could hear the hope in his voice.

"Well. I did keep hope that you'd come back and I could tell you all the things I still wanted to do with you." Logan gave a small smile and Donald nudged him with a bratty impatient whine.

"Like what, like what?"

Logan got back up cheekily and headed to the joined bathroom as he called back, "I'll tell you tomorrow, let's get you cleaned up first."

"Tomorrow?! Come on, I almost died several times, Wolvie!"

Logan came back with a warm wet towel and a bar of soap and shrugged, "But you'll be here tomorrow, so it can wait until then. You'll be here, won't you?"

Pierce pouted as Logan begun cleaning him gently, "I won't be able to sleep if you don't tell me now," he said that but he yawned bigger and bigger as Logan rubbed his aching body.

"I wouldn't trust that." Logan hummed as he cleaned finally between Donald's thighs, careful not to hurt him too much as he dipped in and Pierce bit his lip.

"Can you at least give me a hint?"

"It's about our future." Logan took Pierce by the legs and pulled his body closer, so his butt was right at the edge of the bed. Logan kneeled down in front of it and said, "This was also something I wanted to do to you."

Pierce didn't get the chance to ask what because Logan's tongue found its way into Donald's sweet tight hole he loved so much. Pierce was whining and gasping and trying to claw at his hair with his metal hand as Logan ate him out, slow and deep and sloppy, the way he knew Pierce would go insane from and get a beard burn. He made him cum like that, in a fairly short amount of time. He remembered just how Donald liked it, where his sweet spot was, and he licked his cum up from his belly and fed it to Pierce in a filthy kiss.

"Your turn, your turn-," Donald whispered coyly as he licked the remainder off his tongue, "I'll suck it, let me-,"

"You're tired, you need to get some rest," Logan tried to chide him, but Donald nipped at his jaw.

"What I need is my husband's big fucking cock in my mouth," Donald whined, licking at the shell of Logan's ear. "I've been craving to suck you off all fucking week. Craved you in my ass too, but those bastards ripped me up too bad for that now. Give me this at least."

"You want it? You want me to be your husband? Want me to marry you?" Logan moaned and grinded his erection against Donald's hip, still confined in his boxers, chuckling at Donald's eager nodding. "You wanna marry me, baby?"

"Yes, please," Donald gasped into their wet kiss, tugging on his lower lip with his teeth and groaning, "I wanna be your wife so bad, wanna be yours, all yours, daddy."

"Yeah? You are," Logan hastily kicked off his underwear and straddled Donald's chest, feeding him his cock. He kept Donald to a moderate pace by his hair, the slutty little thing not minding his injuries and trying to throat him down all the way. He pet his face with his other hand and Donald looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of his and those pink lips stretched around his cock, and Logan thought he was the luckiest fucking man alive. "My pretty little wife. How gorgeous you are. And all mine."

Pierce moaned his confirmation around his cock as he swallowed him deep and it didn't take long before Logan found himself on the edge of his climax, but pulled out instead of cumming down Donald's throat. He was met with a bratty whine right until he started jerking himself hastily and then Pierce opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out, and looking up at Logan with those fucking eyes that made Logan cum so hard. He painted Donald's darling face with it, covering him in thick plentiful ropes, the fruit of being pent up for a week, and even leaving a generous amount disposed on Pierce's pink tongue which he swallowed diligently.

"Fuck, you did miss me," Donald chuckled, licking at his lips before Logan took the towel to clean him up. "What a fat fucking load. Your right hand wasn't a good enough company? Neither the girls in town?"

"Why would I need any of those when I have a wife at home who takes care of me?" Logan leaned back down and kissed Pierce on the mouth, something he never willingly did after a blowjob and it made Donald giggle and wrap him in a tight hug.

"You mean it?" Pierce asked later in the evening, once Logan was already half asleep against his back. "The stuff about marriage?"

"Why did you think I was saying I wanted to talk about out future?" Logan sleepily grumbled and kissed Donald's nape. "Sleep now, we'll talk about it more tomorrow."

"Okay, g'night," Pierce snuggled in closer, and after a couple minutes added with a barely audible whisper. "Love you."

Logan smiled, "Love you too."

[the-narrow-street]

Cold Inside

Happy holidays! 

When you lose power, you end up spending the day with Jumin and help him decorate the penthouse~

You woke up earlier than usual for a Saturday, no longer able to sleep with how cold your room felt. Snow was scheduled, but there was no way it could make your room this cold. Unless…

When the switch of the lamp beside your bed brought no change, you exhaled a disappointed sigh. 

Great. No power on my day off. 

Unsure of what to do or where you could go to wait out the outage, you decided to enter the chatroom. 

Saturday morning. Zen has rehearsals all weekend for his upcoming shows, Seven probably only just went to bed, and there’s no way the others will be awake at this hour. 

With this in mind, it came as no surprise to find Jumin the only one logged on. He wakes up early as a habit and has been online pretty often lately. You both have grown close, sharing similar interests and enjoying each other’s company. 

MC: Good morning, Jumin! What are you up to today?

Jumin: Good morning, MC. I don’t have much planned for today. Right now I’m enjoying my coffee while watching Elizabeth the 3rd sleep. 

Jumin: What about you? 

MC: Ah… I’m not too sure yet. My place lost power this morning, so I’ll probably end up going out somewhere. 

Jumin: Come to my place. My driver can pick you up. 

MC: What? No, it’s okay Jumin! You don’t have to go to all that trouble. 

Jumin: I insist. It’s going to be snowing all day, and you don’t know how long the power will be out. 

MC: Jumin, that is so kind of you. Are you sure you don’t mind? 

Jumin: Not at all. When would you like my driver to be there? 

~~~

Your gentle knock was met with the door opening merely seconds later, Jumin welcoming you in as if he had been waiting eagerly for your arrival. 

“Welcome MC, I hope you didn’t have any trouble getting here.”

Sliding out of your coat sleeves, you smiled up at him. “Not at all Jumin, the roads were better than I thought they’d be!” He reached to help you with your coat as you added, “And thank you so much for letting me come over. I don’t know where else I would have gone…” 

“It’s my pleasure, MC. You are always wonderful company.” His earnest comment brought warmth to your cheeks, which hopefully went unnoticed by him as you crouched to greet Elizabeth the 3rd. Purring, she happily leaned into your touch. “I believe Elizabeth thinks so, too.” he commented with a fond smile.

You had been to Jumin’s penthouse a few times before, but never in the winter. Your eyes lit up at the view of the light snow falling over the city. With a faint gasp, the sight pulled you away from Elizabeth, quickly heading to look out the window. “Wow, it’s so beautiful, Jumin!” 

You felt him join your side at the expansive window. “It is an impressive view, although I’m afraid I’ve grown somewhat used to it by now.” You glanced at him in disbelief, when you were struck by how empty his penthouse seemed. “Wha- hey! You haven’t decorated for Christmas at all?” 

“I never really saw the need to. My father and I usually go out for a meal to celebrate, and no one else really visits.” He answered you seriously with his usual even expression. But sadness gripped your heart. His penthouse was impressive, the view spectacular - but suddenly it felt cold and altogether much too large for even the both of you at that moment, let alone just him. 

You impulsively reached for his hand, pulling him back towards the front door. “Jumin, let's go get some decorations!”

Clearly surprised, he began to object, claiming that it was unnecessary. Interrupting his rejections, you reasoned, “It’s almost Christmas, you know? And what if the members of the RFA decide to visit? Trust me, decorations help people get into the festive spirit!” You pleaded, your eyes searching his own for any real disagreement. You didn’t want to force him if he really didn’t want to, but you couldn’t bear the oppressive emptiness of his penthouse. 

“All right. If you insist.” he conceded with a light chuckle.  

~~~

You returned a couple of hours later, red-faced from the cold weather but feeling warm with excitement, eager to decorate. 

You had decided to keep things simple. A small plastic Christmas tree, tinsel, a wreath for his door, and of course, plenty of string lights. 

You chose some instrumental Christmas music to fill in the comfortable silence that settled between you while you got to work together. Jumin was delighted at Elizabeth’s interest in the tree, and you watched the affectionate expression on his face with your own fond smile. You laughed freely as she played with tinsel, only suppressing your giggles when Jumin showed you the pictures he had taken of her.

When all of the decorations were up, Jumin offered to make you both something warm to drink. It was then that you snuck to add the final, secret decoration - a mistletoe - hung above his front door. You had picked it out, wondering if he knew the tradition or not. You weren’t sure if you even wanted him to know about it. If he didn’t know, then you might feel a bit disappointed. But if he did, there could be two likely outcomes - and it could end up being very awkward. 

Well, too late to chicken out now! 

~~~

By late-afternoon, you received a notification that the power was back at your place. Jumin had convinced you to stay for dinner, and you were now lingering - enjoying the comfort of his company and appreciating how cozy the Christmas lights made the penthouse. 

“Thank you for decorating with me, MC. I never knew how satisfying it could be to put them up myself.” Jumin was staring peacefully at the tree, but his eyes showed loneliness that he refused to acknowledge. 

“You mean you’ve never decorated for Christmas before?” You couldn’t help but ask, although you probably shouldn’t be too surprised, knowing what you do about his upbringing. 

Replying with a light shake of his head, “My father always had someone else put them up for us.” 

You bit your lip, feeling guilt and pity for his younger self having grown up in a home lacking the warmth that family usually brings. 

I wish that we could decorate together next year, too. 

~~~

You were almost finished buttoning-up your coat when Jumin asked, peering upward, “What is that, MC?” 

Following his gaze, you were suddenly reminded of your earlier boldness, embarrassment now flushing your face. “Oh… that’s mistletoe.” You braved a glance at his face, finding curiosity rather than a knowing look. 

“Hmm. Does it have any significance? It looks a bit plain…” 

Not sure if you should be feeling relieved or disappointed, you hoped to move on from the topic. “It’s just tradition, I guess. No big deal!” No way you were going to explain it. “Anyways, I should get going! Thank you so much again for letting me stay. I had a lot of fun.” 

His soft gaze and gentle smile in response made your heart ache, longing to wrap your arms around him. “As did I, MC. Please let me know when you are home safe.” 

~~~

Turning away from the door, Jumin couldn’t help but smile as he admired the soft glow of the lights on the tree, reflecting gently on the window beside it. But more than the silver tinsel, the sparkle in your eyes, filled with excitement to decorate the penthouse with him, was the beautiful image filling his mind. 

Strange. It feels colder than usual.

The penthouse was always kept at a consistent temperature, and a quick call confirmed that everything was working as normal. Perhaps he was still feeling the chill from the snowy trip to purchase the decorations. 

Even the wine he slowly sipped as Elizabeth purred softly on his lap didn’t touch the coldness that had settled deep within him. Feeling annoyed and somewhat unsettled, Jumin reached to message you - a recent habit he had formed. 

MC, it has felt cold ever since –

His hesitant typing was halted as your messages came through. 

MC: I’m back now, Jumin. Thank you again so much! 

MC: Also, I was wondering, what if we celebrated with the RFA on Christmas Eve together? You have the most space out of all of us, and now it’s even decorated! I could come early and help get things set up ^^

He typed his reply with a smile - so often worn when talking to you - already feeling warmer. 

~~~

You were practically skipping up to the door of his penthouse, filled with anticipation for the evening celebration with all of your dearest friends. More than anything, you wished that the people you cared for wouldn’t feel lonely during the holidays. Especially Jumin. 

Your arms were filled with the presents and snacks you had brought. Before you had a chance to figure out how you were going to knock, his door was opened for you. 

“Woah, how did you know I was here?” you couldn’t help but question him with a surprised laugh. He joined you with a chuckle of his own, taking some of the bags from your hands. “I just felt that you would be.” was his simple explanation. 

Shoes off and now working on removing your coat, Jumin was waiting by the door with you. You met his eyes and smiled at him, feeling so glad to see him again. The corners of his mouth turned up instinctively in response, but he looked like he had something to say as he fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve. 

“Is everything alright, Jumin?” 

“I know the meaning of mistletoe now.” His straightforward reply took you completely by surprise.

“O-oh, do you?”

“Yes. It has quite a fascinating history.”

You nodded slightly in agreement, truthfully unaware of its meaning beyond the typical Christmas tradition. 

“But I think that we should take it down.” 

You hoped your disappointment and embarrassment wasn’t obvious. “Oh, sure, no problem! It’s just a silly tradi-”

“Before the others arrive,” he clarified with a small step towards you, peering down at your flushed face with mischief-infused intensity. “I would hate for you to get caught under it with someone else.” 

[lamponellatempesta]

Mayblade 2023 Day 3: Pets

It was a bit of a cold morning on that September day, and even though it was only dawn you could see a purple-haired boy, hair tied in a small pony-tail, running down the avenue by the sea, with his huge headphones, strictly black and definitely pop music blasting in to give him charge while running. He wasn’t a sports freak... or fan of playing sports with people, but he needed to vent his constant anxiety somehow, and running worked, so who was he to deprive himself of it. That day dawn was particularly gorgeous, made of beautiful pastel colors tinting the sky, surrounded by clouds that made them even more spectacular; there was only him, the dawn, the music and the adrenaline of the running that flowed in him. He needed it very much, it had been quite a restless study night; it was a bit complicated at school and things were not going very well. Apart from his musical practice, piano and bass, where he excelled without any problem, the rest of the subjects were giving him some anxiety. He was proud to be a Hiwatari, but apparently that created expectations of excellence in other people and it was starting to upset him, despite the fact that his father reassured him to not give a shit and that he should not be conditioned, but it was difficult, considering how much troubles he had from people at only 16 years just to be himself. He didn’t notice he had started to run faster, fueled with anxiety, and was forced to stop and take a breath. That's when he heard some meowing coming from... behind him? Gou took off his headphones and turned his head, realizing that he was being followed by two small balls of fur that meowed even more as they came close and started rubbing against his legs.

Gou smiled and lowered himself to their level to pet them.

"Mhm... they seem to be a bit thin... they are probably left without mom and are alone... I can’t leave them here... they are so adorable." He thought while the two small kittens had already climbed over him to ask even more pampering and looking for food as he smiled even more. "What harm can this do, old Twist will be pleased to have someone to keep him company, well. You little buggers come with me. And I’ll give you so so much good milk." The little ones meowed even louder at the words and the boy laughed "Yes, okay ahaha, calm down."

Gou reversed and ran home again, making sure that the two kittens did not risk falling during the run, but actually it seemed like it had a soporific effect and the two fell asleep.

A couple of hours later, a still half-asleep Kai found himself looking at the scene of his son giving milk to two kittens in the middle of their living room, without any warning. It was Saturday, he had thought he was still sleeping, but instead he was in his running clothes and with two kittens that would have been as big as his own hands in his arms.

"What can I tell him? Should I scold him? If he brought them I think he made sure they were alone and without a mother. Aaah... he’s my son..." Kai smiled,going to have a coffee before joining his son; Twist, their family cat, was still in bed sleeping with Takao, so there was no danger of a meeting with the small new guests for now.

"How adorable are you... yes,yes, it’s really good milk, mm? You are just two little gluttons. This is the best milk of Spa-" Gou interrupted his talking to the kittens when his father sit next to him with his usual cup of coffee and observed the little ones, stroking them with a finger, and then looked at him and he swallowed. "Dad I swear they were following me while I ran and I mean I couldn’t leave them alone they seemed very hungry and were alone so I took them home." Kai tried to talk. "I already called the vet, I asked them how much milk and everything else and later II take them to get checked if they’re okay, I know I shoul-"

"Gou, it’s okay, don’t get upset, if you decided to bring them here it’s because you’ve already considered all the options and besides they seem to love you already. You didn’t have to ask our permission if you thought it was the right thing. Later I’ll accompany you to the vet, however, two little pests are difficult to manage."

The boy smiled even more "Thanks Dad! I will take super care of them, they will have a super happy life I promise you! I will make them be accepted even byTwist!! Thank you thank you!!" He hugged his father and Kai hugged him back. "Come on, go take a shower and then let’s go, run up" Gou did not let it be repeated twice and ran upstairs, leaving Kai to take care of the two kittens with an already loving smile for the two little ones, he would explain later to Takao, Makoto and Dafne as of that day would have been two more members in the family, but not now. Now he just wanted to enjoy his morning peace, his coffee, and two kittens, which unfortunately for him, as with Gou, had already conquered his heart as the total cat-person that he was. He would have explained, but definitely not now.

[x-atlas-x]

Writer Q&A: 1,3, 11 Also, just finished reading 'The Exchanger'. I don't have any way to properly comment on that fic that isn't in the language of keyboard smashing or screams. I'm still waiting for the ball to come out of the sky, and omgwtfasdgfs how can you leave it hanging like that?!?! Please, PLEASE tell me you have a follow-up in mind!!

Hello, my friend!! Thank you so much for the asks <3 This'll probably be a long one, so it's going to be under the cut~

1.) What led you to start writing fan fiction?

I'm not entirely sure. I've been basically writing for my whole life (ever since I was a wee lad) and my roots started in... Sonic fanfiction... Not my proudest moment, but we all have to start somewhere. I was my own worst nightmare when I was merely seven >:)

(I still have the god awful notebook with one of the first fics in it... No, I can't decipher it-)

3.) What experiences/influences have shaped your writing the most?

The last fandom I was in truly brought out my absolute need to be writing constantly and my love for AUs. Upon joining the Yugioh fandom, though, I started to learn how to shape my fanfics and build them up with more emotions (also, I learned how to write smut! which is such a huge accomplishment because I used to never get that far). It's always baffling to look back on my first posted Yugioh fic and my most recent one.

I suppose one experience that I can recall that has truly influenced me and my writing is when I was forced to join a literature contest once and I won first place. It wasn't anything spectacular, but that was the first time that I had officially won something. I forget about it a lot, but I know that gave me an ego/confidence boost of sorts at the time to pursue writing more seriously.

11.) What attracted you to the fandom(s)/media you write in?

Oh, yes, the story about how I accidentally fell into the world of Yugioh. Around the beginning of quarantine, I was still writing for my old fandom. There was an artist on Instagram that did fanart for that fandom, but also did art/talked a lot about Yugioh 5D's. One night, I got bored and I put it on my TV while I was falling asleep. I woke up the next morning, started paying attention, and... Well, here we are.

I replaced 5D's with DM and I actually didn't start properly watching that one until the middle of season 3. I know, I'm insane, but it's difficult for me to get into something from the very beginning. I spent most of quarantine writing fanfiction while binging all of the Yugioh shows (I stopped at VRAINS, but I've watched enough of that to have a vague idea of what happens). And yeah! That's how I got here :)

As for The Exchanger...

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! That ending was definitely something, wasn't it? >:) I do have a follow up floating around in my head, but I'm currently drowning in projects, so... Hopefully I'll be able to get there at some point amongst all of them (and maybe when I get an actual idea of where I'm going with things).

If anyone else would like to send an ask: Questions

[flame-x]

Do you have any familial headcanons you really like?

Gosh so many.

I really like my version of Munkustrap's family (and by saying my version, i just mean his family in my au).

I am so sorry this turns into more than what the ask was.

tw: mentions of attempted murder, banishment, forceful taking away(?), death, abandonment and dog attack

His parents are Old Deuteronomy and Isis. Isis was a queen Old Deuteronomy fell madly in love with and she was the last of his 99 wives and the one he loved the most (hehe tradgedy approaches). Isis was his sun (even though the Ancient Egytian goddess Isis was actually a goddess of the moon) and she brought light and real love into his life. She wasn't just a fling, like most of his other "wives" had been (ehehe young deut being a player like tugs hc my beloved). She was It for him. Deuteronomy was her moon. He brought her peace and a guiding light to what was best for them (maybe one day i'll give more on that). She had been slow to fall for him, never believing he was serious, but eventually he showed her he was. She had Macavity first, of course. God, he brought new feelings into their lives, feelings of love that filled your chest and made you feel as if you could burst of pride. He was a gifted and handsome little cat, and Isis and Deuteronomy knew he'd do spectacular things one day. They knew they wanted to grow their little family, but they could take their time, right? They had all the time in the world. (spoiler: no they didnt >:D) Then (maybe two human years later?) she had Munkustrap. More feelings swelling their chests, and Macavity was great with his little brother (well at the start, anyway) - a great relief to them. He was delighted to have a playmate! He quickly got bored of the little grey tom though, realising Munk was content to sit and listen to the Elders' stories or watch Demeter shyly from afar. One year later, Tugger is born, and gosh isn't he a little menace, although a lovable one. By this point though, Macavity has become reclusive and secretive. Isis doesn't like it, but she's reassured by the other queens that sometimes older tomkittens bordering on young tomhood can be like this, so she doesn't really... try to step in. Meanwhile, Munkustrap is essentially perfect. Everyone prefers him, everyone. There's already stories about his ability to captivate his audience, even when it's just him excitedly telling them about a bug he found in his ear this morning. This is what's been driving Macavity mad. Here he is, magically gifted, and yet everyone prefers Munkustrap. That's where it all starts to go downhill. One night, about four human months after Tugger is born, Isis returns to her human home and is never seen or heard from again. With great sadness, Sibylla, who'd lived next door, informs Deuteronomy that Isis' owners had moved away, and had taken her with them, not knowing they were taking her away from her young family and her tribe.

Deuteronomy is never the same again. He folds in on himself, Macavity becomes more derailed, Munkustrap winds up with increased pressure on his shoulders, and Tugger grows up a wild and uncontrollable tom.

Then head protector Ramses himself takes Munkustrap under his wing and Macavity fucking blows his top. That was supposed to be his job, not Munkustrap's. He tries to kill Munkustrap. Alonzo intervenes, saving the grey tom's life and as a result of the attempted murder, Old Deuteronomy has to banish Macavity. Demeter goes with him, breaking Munk's heart. (This all happened about ten (10) human months after Isis' disappearance)

It's nearly 2 full human years later, and Munkustrap (who's about 4 in human years) finds himself adopting little Misto and Quaxo, who's mother, Noilly Prat (also Alonzo's mother, who's about three) has just recently died from a car. Soon after (maybe two months?) he adds little abandoned Victoria to his small family.

Then more tragedy strikes. Ramses and Sibylla are killed in a shocking and brutal Pollicle dog attack, and Munkustrap finds himself as Head Protector with three young kittens, no mate and having to choose a second ASAP.

Anyway, time continues on, and it's about a human year and a half before Grizabella's Ball and Demeter and the chaos twins arrive back to the tribe. She and Munk become mates and have Sillabub and Jemima. :)

Anyway, some other family hcs I like are: -Alonzo, Misto and Vic as siblings, Bustopher as their uncle -Jelly and Asparagus are siblings and Gus is their dad -Tumble and Pounce are brothers

thank you again for the ask! <3

[the-al-chemist]

Night Falls, Hope Rises Christmas Special, Carnage Circus Style 🔥

A gift for the creator of Carnage Circus and Talia Crane, the Queen of Angst and Smut, and my treasured friend @whatwouldvalerydo. Thank you for your strength, honesty, kindness, and your ability to strike just the right balance between compassion and passion. Happy Christmas, Your Majesty.

Summary: after seeing a fire dancer’s performance, Artemis is inspired to join the circus. Warnings: a little darkness, a single swear word.

Winter had arrived. The nights had grown long and dark, the winds blew biting and cold, and the frost glittered like diamonds under the light of the silver moonlight, which filtered through the clouds and the thick furling fog that hung in the air like the veil of a jilted bride. But, on the morning of the solstice day, there was a sudden and surprising burst of colour and of noise, of light and of life.

The circus had come to town.

No one knew where it had come from, nor where it would go next. No one had expected it to arrive at all, there had been no posters to announce its coming nor mentions of it in the papers. The town had simply gone to bed one night, and awoken the following morning to find the pointed tents and brightly coloured caravans set up in a nearby field. It had not been there before, but now it was, and that was that.

The rumours about the circus had circulated from the moment of its discovery, all of them as dark and as scandalous as the next. These rumours might have served to cast a dark mark over the circus, to bring it into disrepute and dissuade the locals from attending, but as it turned out, they served to have the opposite effect. By the time evening fell, fast and foggy and fatalistic, a great crowd had queued up outside the gates, all clamouring to get inside.

Artemis went unnoticed as she slipped through the gates alongside a group of nuns. Perhaps it was because of her small stature, or perhaps it was because she walked with her head held high as if she were meant to be there, but no one questioned her presence. Once she was inside the compound, she separated from the nuns to make her way through the circus alone, meandering past the jugglers and the clowns, the peanut sellers and the fortune tellers to the big top, where the main show was taking place.

As the show began, Artemis snuck beneath the raised wooden benches to watch it silently and secretly. It was spectacular. A black panther jumped through a hoop, a ventriloquist’s doll danced on the end of a string, and two acrobats whirled and spiralled from hoops and ribbons hanging from the ceiling.

“And now, ladies and gentleman, our piéce de resistance… The Living Phoenix!”

A large fake nest was brought out into the centre of the show ring, and as the crowd’s applause faded away, the lights dimmed and the nest burst into flames.

Inside the inferno, something was moving, making sparks fly outwards and casting abstract shadows across the sandy floor surrounding it. Artemis craned her neck to see better as the Phoenix rose upwards, but as it did, she realised that the creature emerging from the flames was not a bird at all, but a woman.

The woman had vivid red hair, eyes that seemed to shift between cool turquoise and warm amber, and skin so pale it seemed to sparkle in the firelight. As for the fire itself, it did not affect her. She moved inside it and with it, touching and holding and breathing the flames. Perhaps she was part-flame herself. Artemis would not have been surprised if that were the case; the woman may not have been truly a phoenix, but she could not be entirely human, either. Whatever she was, Artemis wanted to be it herself.

The show ended with Artemis still staring, open-mouthed and barely breathing, at the fire dancer, The Living Phoenix, her eyes watering from the brightness of the flickering light. As the crowds filtered out of the tent and towards the gate, she held back, considering her next move.

The circus was there for one night, and one night only. If she wished - really, truly wished - to run away with it, this was her only chance to do so. And so, instead of leaving the circus by the gates like the rest, she hid behind one of the tents, and once she was certain that no one was looking, stowed herself away inside the first unlocked trailer she could find.

The exterior of the caravan had been painted bright red and gold, but inside, it was dark, with the lights turned off and the curtains closed. She pulled them back slightly, and peeked out of the window through the narrow gap. Outside, the circus was being packed up. Soon, it would be leaving, and so would she. The roots of her hair tingled with anticipation.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Artemis’ heart sank at the sound of a woman’s voice behind her, and grimacing, she turned to see The Living Phoenix herself standing in the doorway of the caravan, her amber-coloured eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I liked your fire dancing,” Artemis told her. “I want to learn to do it, too.”

“So, you decided to sneak into my caravan?”

“I didn’t know this was your caravan.”

“No?” The Living Phoenix raised a single eyebrow. “Then why are you here?”

Artemis stuck her chin forward and looked her in the eye. “I want to join the circus.”

She had not known how she had expected the Phoenix to react, but it certainly was not for her to let out a quiet snort of derision and for a dark shadow to pass over her face.

“No, you don’t,” the Phoenix muttered bitterly.

“I do, honestly I do. I want to learn to dance on a ribbon and tame a lion and be one with the flames. I want to run away with all of you and never look back, not even-”

Her sentence was cut short as the Phoenix darted across the room and slapped her hand to Artemis’ mouth.

“Be careful what you wish for, especially around here,” she hissed. “This life is not all it is cracked up to be.”

“You don’t know what life I’ve come from,” Artemis told Phoenix as she writhed herself free from her grasp. “I don’t see that this could be worse.”

“Things can always be worse.”

“And they can always be better.”

The Living Phoenix laughed, a short, sharp, harsh sound. “In that case, you might as well stay put. Perhaps things will get better where you already are.”

“And if not?”

“Then you can pick another circus to run away with. But trust me, you do not want this one.”

The look in the Phoenix’s eyes was no longer confrontational, but deeply, unfathomably sad, as if their now-turquoise colour had come from a lifetime’s worth of tears. In a second, Artemis went from envying her to feeling sorry for her.

“Hopefully things will get better for you here, too,” she told her, with a smile that she hoped was reassuring. The Phoenix’s lips twitched a little, but she shook her head sadly.

“I ran out of hope a long time ago.”

“But you can’t run out of hope!”

“Can’t you?”

“No,” Artemis shook her own head. “There’s always some hope, somewhere. Hope is like the stars. Even when the sky is all cloudy and misty, like it is now, they’re still there. You just can’t see them, that’s all.”

“You have a point there.”

“I know I do.”

Somewhere out in the darkness, a clock began to chime. Twelve rings of a bell echoed in the air.

“It’s midnight,” said The Living Phoenix, casting a nervous look at the door of the caravan. “You should go home, before it is too late.”

“But-”

“You are not coming with us.”

Artemis sighed. “It was worth a try, I guess. Goodnight.”

“Good bye.”

“Yeah, good bye. And good luck.”

“And to you.”

There was nothing more for either of them to say, so Artemis left the caravan by the door The Living Phoenix held open for her. Outside, the fog had started to lift, and the bright shining lights of the circus had dimmed. Without them, it was darker than ever.

The Phoenix smiled as she watched the girl disappear into the gloom and turned her face to the heavens, where the stars could now be seen, shining in the inky expanse of night sky, where they always had been, and always would be.

[dfroza]

“bright white, like sunlight mirroring off a snowfall”

have you ever seen such a sight?

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 17th chapter of the book of Matthew:

Six days later, Jesus went up to the top of a high mountain with Peter, James, and John. There, something spectacular happened: Jesus’ face began to glow and gleam and shine like the morning sun. His clothes gleamed too—bright white, like sunlight mirroring off a snowfall. He was, in a word, transfigured. Suddenly there at the top of the mountain were Moses and Elijah, those icons of the faith, beloved of God. And they talked to Jesus.

Peter: Lord, how amazing that we are here to see these heroes of our faith, these men through whom God spoke. Should I quickly build some shelter, three small tabernacles, for You, for Moses, and for Elijah?

As Peter spoke, a bright cloud enveloped all of them.

Voice from the Cloud: This is My beloved Son. With Him I am well pleased. Listen to Him.

This voice from heaven terrified the three disciples, and they fell prostrate on the ground. But Jesus—who was, by this time, used to His disciples being plagued by fear—touched them.

Jesus: Get up. Don’t be afraid.

And when the disciples got up, they saw they were alone with their Lord.

The four men hiked back down the mountain, and Jesus told His disciples to stay silent.

Jesus: Don’t tell anyone what happened here, not until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.

Disciples: Master, why do the scribes teach that the prophet Elijah must come first?

Jesus: Scripture tells us clearly that indeed Elijah will come to restore all things. But see this: Elijah has come already. No one recognized him for who he was, so he was arrested and killed. That is part of the preparation of which our Scripture speaks: for the Son of Man, too, will be arrested and killed at the hands of people who do not see Him for who He is.

And then the disciples realized the man they knew as John the Baptist was the one Jesus was speaking of.

They had come down from the mountain, and as they headed toward town, they came to a crowd. As they approached the crowd, a man rushed up to Jesus and knelt before Him.

Man from the Crowd: Lord, have mercy on my son. He has seizures. Sometimes when they come on, my son falls into the fire or into a pond. We are very concerned for him. I brought him to Your disciples, but they could not heal him.

Jesus: This generation is no better than the generation who wandered in the desert, who lost faith and bowed down to golden idols as soon as Moses disappeared upon Mount Sinai! How long will I have to shepherd these unbelieving sheep? (turning to the man) Bring the boy to Me.

The man did, and Jesus castigated the demon who had taken up residence in the boy. And the demon fled the boy’s body at the sound of Jesus’ voice, and the boy was healed from that moment on. No more shaking. No more falling into fires.

Later, when they were away from the crowds, the disciples asked Jesus why they hadn’t been able to drive out the demon themselves.

Jesus: Because you have so little faith. I tell you this: if you had even a faint spark of faith, even faith as tiny as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and because of your faith, the mountain would move. If you had just a sliver of faith, you would find nothing impossible. [But this kind is not realized except through much prayer and fasting.]

Jesus and the disciples came to Galilee.

Jesus: The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men. They will kill Him, and on the third day, He will be resurrected, vindicated, newly alive.

The disciples were filled with grief.

Then Jesus and His disciples went toward Capernaum, and when they arrived there, some people who had collected the two-drachma tax that went for the upkeep of the temple came up to Peter.

Temple Tax Collectors: Does your Teacher not pay the temple tax?

Peter: He does pay the tax.

So when Peter came into the house where they were staying, Jesus explored the subject.

Jesus: Simon, what do you think? When kings collect taxes and duties and tolls, from whom do they collect? Do they levy taxes on their own people or on strangers and foreigners?

Peter: The foreigners, my Lord.

Jesus: Well, then, we children of the King should be exempt from this two-drachma tax. But all in all, it’s better not to make any waves; we’d better go on and pay the tax. So do this: go out to the lake and throw out your line. And when you catch a fish, open its jaws and you will find a four-drachma coin. Take this to the tax collectors, and pay your taxes and Mine.

The Book of Matthew, Chapter 17 (The Voice)

A set of notes from The Voice translation:

This is but an echo of the Voice that spoke at Jesus’ ritual cleansing in baptism. It is an echo of what God said through Moses during his final sermon on the mount. God promised that although Moses could not enter the promised land, He would send His people another prophet. Moses’ very last wish for his beloved people was that they would listen to this new prophet when He would come.

Why does Jesus often instruct His disciples to keep secrets? In this case, perhaps He does because He realizes they will not understand the meaning of the transfiguration until they live through that other hilltop event, the death of Jesus on the cross. Believers, like the disciples, will better understand this bath of light and revelation when they, too, come to Golgotha and the cross.

Jesus knows that He and His followers are the true temple, and yet Jesus is canny. It is not quite time to shake the foundations of the temple or of the old way of doing things. And so He pays the tax and bides His time.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 1st chapter of the book of Jonah:

One day the word of the Eternal One came to the prophet Jonah (Amittai’s son).

Eternal One: Get up, and go to that powerful and notorious city of Nineveh. Call out My message against it because the wickedness of its people has come to My attention.

In hearing those instructions, Jonah got up and ran toward Tarshish from the Eternal’s presence. He went down to the port at Joppa and found a ship bound for Tarshish. He climbed aboard, paid the fare, and made himself comfortable in the hold of the ship.

Not to be deterred, the Eternal One threw an intense wind at the sea. The violence of the storm put Jonah’s ship in jeopardy of breaking apart. The sailors panicked! They started running back and forth, throwing cargo overboard to lighten the boat; every man, out of desperation, cried to his own deity. Eventually, a sailor found Jonah down in the hold of the ship, where he had lain down and fallen into a deep slumber. When the captain heard, he went down and woke Jonah up.

Captain: How can you sleep so deeply? Get up, and call out to your deity! Maybe your deity will see what is happening and save us from this catastrophe.

Sailors (to one another): You know what we should do? We should cast lots to find out who is ultimately responsible for our distress!

So they cast their lots, and Jonah’s name was chosen.

Sailors: Who are you? We must know who is responsible for this disaster that would swallow us in the sea. What do you do? Where are you from? What country is your home? Whom are you descended from?

Jonah: I am Hebrew, and the God whom I worship is the Eternal One, the God of heaven. He made the sea and the land, so He controls them.

After interrogating him, the sailors were terrified because Jonah had told them he was running away from the Eternal’s presence.

Sailors (to Jonah): What have you done? Because of you, we’re all going to be killed.

(shouting over the building storm) What should we do to you to make the sea calm down for us?

Jonah (shouting back): God is using the sea to punish me, so pick me up and throw me into the sea! Then the sea will grow calm again, and you’ll be safe! This is all my fault! This great storm of my God’s anger has built against you because of me!

The sailors ignored Jonah’s advice and tried to row back to land. They made no headway because the violence of the storm kept growing.

Sailors (to God): Eternal One! Please, we beg You—do not kill us as if we had murdered this man. And don’t punish us as if we’d killed an innocent person. We understand that You, Eternal One, do as You please.

At that, they grabbed Jonah by his arms and legs and threw him overboard. And when they did, the raging sea grew calm. The sailors were even more terrified of the Eternal One. They offered sacrifices to Him and made promises to Him.

The Eternal didn’t let Jonah die. He chose a large fish to swallow Jonah; for three days and three nights the prophet Jonah sat safely inside the belly of this fish.

The Book of Jonah, Chapter 1 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

The Lord calls Jonah to Nineveh, but instead he runs full speed to Tarshish, a great and wealthy city on the coast of Spain. It is about as far to the west as most Israelites have ever ventured, while Nineveh is about as far to the east as most Israelites have ever gone. Nineveh is a great city and the fiercest enemy of Jonah’s people, so Jonah is afraid and wants to be completely away from this calling and from anyone who may be inclined to go on this ill-fated adventure.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, january 23 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about the Song of the Sea:

Our Torah reading for this week (Beshlach: Exod. 13:17-17:16) includes the famous Shirat Hayam (שִׁירַת הַיָּם), the “Song of the Sea,” a hymn of praise the Israelites sang to the LORD after they miraculously crossed the Sea of Reeds (i.e., Yam Suf: יָם סּוּף). Shirat Hayam is also traditionally sung on the 7th day of Passover (i.e., on Nisan 21) since it was first sung seven days after the people left Egypt during the time of the Exodus. When the Temple stood in Jerusalem, Shirat Hayam was sung every day by the Levites during the minchah (afternoon) offering. After the Temple was destroyed, however, the song was incorporated into the shacharit (morning) service of synagogues (i.e., “Mi Chamocha,” etc.) to fulfill the Torah’s commandment to "remember the day of your departure from the land of Egypt all the days of your life" (Deut. 16:3).

Today the Sabbath on which parashat Beshalach is recited is called "Shabbat Shirah Hayam" and the congregation rises when the following is chanted:

“I will sing to Adonai, for he has triumphed gloriously;

the horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.

Yah is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation;

this is my God, and I will enshrine Him,

my father's God, and I will exalt him.

The LORD is a warrior; the LORD is his Name.” (Exod. 15:1-3)

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/exod15-2-3.mp3

Notice that the Hebrew text of this song is stylized in a special way according to soferut (scribal) tradition. The Talmud (Megillah 16b) states that Shirat Hayam must be written in the form of “a half brick over a whole brick, and a whole brick over a half brick,” that is, with alternating half-lines, to resemble “building a house” (see the image of the text following this post).

According to Yalkut Me’am Lo’ez, the alternating “bricks” are intended to resemble waves of water, while the blank spaces separating these (i.e., text blocks) suggest “blank spaces in our knowledge and praise of God” which we are encouraged to add to the “building.” The sages count exactly 198 words in this song, which is the numerical value for the word tzchok (צחק), a word that means “laughter” and is the word used to describe Sarah’s response when she finally gave birth to Isaac (Gen. 21:6). According to Rabbi Bachya, the laughter in Isaac’s name comes from Abraham’s joy (Gen. 17:17). The joy of Isaac’s birth, then, is linked with the “birth” of the nation of Israel at the time of the Exodus, just as his symbolic death during the Akedah represents Israel’s rebirth...

It is also noteworthy to remember that the Lord Yeshua was the One who saved Israel on that very day. He is the Angel of the LORD and YHVH the Redeemer, as Moses likewise stated: וַיּוֹשַׁע יהוה בַּיּוֹם הַהוּא אֶת־יִשְׂרָאֵל מִיַּד מִצְרָיִם / “On that day, the LORD saved Israel from the hand of the Egyptians” (Exod. 14:30).

It's been said that all the signs and wonders performed during the Exodus served two purposes: 1) to convince the Egyptians of the greatness of God, and 2) to convince the Israelites of the same thing... An even greater blessing, however, is to trust in the LORD without the need for signs and wonders (John 20:29). May the LORD God of Israel help us live by true bittachon (בִּטָּחוֹן) - trusting in Him and rejoicing in His salvation. Amen.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Exodus 15:11 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/exod15-11-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/exod15-11-lesson.pdf

For more see the H4C page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Scripture/Parashah/Summaries/Beshalach/Song_of_the_Sea/song_of_the_sea.html

1.22.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365:

Freshly liberated from the chains of Egyptian slavery, the Israelites embarked on their monumental journey towards the Promised Land filled with a spirit of hope and renewal. Yet it didn’t take long before their faith and fortitude were tested. First, they arrived at a location that had only bitter water. Then, they had no food, and finally, they found themselves in the desert without any water at all. But perhaps their biggest challenge was when the Amalekites, sensing the vulnerability of a people in transition, chose this moment of frailty to strike. Though they had just experienced the miraculous Exodus from Egypt, they were weary and weighted by centuries of bondage. The Amalekites launched a brutal attack on the Israelite nation. They targeted not just their physical strength but also their spirit. Focusing on the weak and defenseless at the rear (Deuteronomy 25:18), they exposed within themselves a deep moral bankruptcy. Their actions were profoundly cruel and unjust.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

January 23, 2024

Praying According to His Will

“And this is the confidence that we have in him, that, if we ask any thing according to his will, he heareth us: And if we know that he hear us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of him.” (1 John 5:14-15)

This promise is comprehensive and unlimited—a tremendous assurance of answered prayer. But there is one proviso—according to His will! There are a number of Christians who, with all good intentions, have argued that it evidences a lack of faith to add the qualification “if it be thy will” to one’s prayer. But this can hardly be true in light of the example of Christ Himself when He “prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt” (Matthew 26:39).

The question is how to know whether or not we are praying according to God’s will. One key, of course, is to search the Scriptures. God’s will can never contradict His Word, and it is foolish to ask God to do something that the Scriptures themselves forbid. “Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts” (James 4:3).

When, however, we sincerely desire God’s will to be done, and so far as can be determined there is no biblical or personal barrier hindering our prayer, then we can pray in confidence even if we yet don’t know for certain God’s will in the matter. “Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: But the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groaning which cannot be uttered. And he that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, because he maketh intercession for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:26-28). HMM

[starshaped-raindrops]

*The intimacy of showering together always made his heart beat just a little faster. Sure, there was the sexual aspect of it. He couldn't help but feel aroused standing so close to you, completely naked in the steamy shower. But it was more than that. It was the trust you both had that you could take care of each other in such a vulnerable moment. He grins at your little snort while rinsing the shampoo from your hair and moving to lather up some body soap to rub over the rest of you.*

Oh? You say that like you didn't sketch stars in the sky for me. *He smiles softly when you turn around to start washing him too.* It might sound cliche, love, but I'm the one who feels blessed. I wish I could properly express the happiness you've brought to my life. I would not be the man I am today if it weren't for you.

*He can't help but give you a wink when you start drying him off with the towel. He hoped you wouldn't mind that he'd gotten a little excited when you had your hands rubbing all over him to wash and dry him. You just had that effect on him. He lets out a playful growl before capturing you in a towel and returning the favor of drying you off. When you suggest sleeping naked though, the playfulness dies down a bit.*

Not only do I not mind, bunny, I think that is a spectacular idea. After such a lovely day, I would love to fall asleep with you having your skin on mine with nothing in between. *He gets a sort of sly look.* As long as you don't mind if I get a little handsy in the morning to wake you up?

-Daichi ❤️

(I hope you have a wonderful day today Jade! I love you and so does Daichi! 🩷🩷 you two are the ultimate fairytale couple)

“Oh Daichi, you have brought me so much happiness and love into my life. I dunno how to thank you. So I’ll kiss and cuddle you as much as I can, bring all the treats and bake all the sweets, and take your hand to hold as we live our lives together as husband and wife!”

*I can’t help the blush that grows on my cheek as I see how he’s gotten excited as I dry him. A part of me wants to take care of that: make slow and soft love before falling asleep but I know I’ll conked out before we even start the foreplay. So, I just give him a cheeky grin in reply to his wink before squealing in glee when he captures me in a towel*

*My blush deepens when he agrees to my suggestion of sleeping naked; my skin buzzing with earnest for intimacy as vulnerable as this. A soft chuckle escapes me when he mentions getting hands in the morning then let my hand rest on his chest above his heart*

“I wouldn’t want to wake up any other way. Now, my honey love, take me to bed?”

*I give him a kiss and let him pick me up bridal style so we can head to bed, casting the towels on the sink for us to deal with in the morning. I pepper kisses along his jaw as he carries me then wrap my arms around his neck so I can tug him with me as he lays me down. I let him get comfortable and rest his weight on me as he settles on top of me. I know he worries about being too heavy, so I let him know I’m okay with a kiss to the top of his head and my fingers carding through his hair. I smile as I hear him sigh in content before he tugs the covers to us. I reach over to turn on the fairy lights then turn off the main room light and the soft glow helps hammer the last nail of exhaustion on me*

“Mmm, Daichi… I love you,”

*I mumble, fingers still languidly play with his hair as my heavy eyelids close. I wiggle under him to get as close to him as I could; bare skin pressed against his own bare body. I can hear him whisper back an ‘I love you, too’ before sleep overcomes me. A smile still on my lips as the thought of waking up to him tomorrow is the last thing on my mind before I slip into dreamland*

(Mod-san! Thank you so much for this RP! while it was long, I love every moment of it! Always makes my day and I love going back to it when I’m down. I’m doing okay and I love you and Daichi too! I can’t wait for what we’ll RP next!)

[god-whispers]

sep 25

the feast begins

"blow the trumpet in zion, consecrate a fast, call a sacred assembly; gather the people, sanctify the congregation, assemble the elders, gather the children and nursing babes; let the Bridegroom go out from His chamber, and the bride from her dressing room." joel 2:15-16

i got up this morning about 3:30 am.  i don't know about you but anticipation is getting the best of me.  as i readied myself for the day i kept wondering, could this possibly be the day?  friends, that's how real out these things are to me.  if you really believe something is going to happen you act accordingly.  i pray it is a real possibility to you also.

(first let me say, no one can be positive the calendar we go by is a 100% accurate calendar of God's time.  we should be alert days and even weeks in either direction of a feast day.  we must keep watching each day as it is presented to us, being assured we are definitely "in the season."  i guess the real question is: "do you believe it could possibly be this year?  that it could be today?  "if you will not believe, surely you shall not be established." isa 7:9)

the trumpets of God are sounding throughout our land, and in the whole world.  but it is one particular trumpet i am listening for.  it is the last trump and the summons of my Lord to come and partake of the wedding nuptials.  and the wedding feast will be spectacular, something beyond our comprehension.  the guests will be innumerable.

this is the culmination of what God foresaw in the beginning.  His excitement could even exceed my own.  i think of our Lord and how He said, "with fervent desire I have desired to eat this passover with you."  fervent desire.  can you imagine what passion He brings to this event?  "the King has brought me into His chambers." sos 1:4  i think of the pomp and ceremony made over the queen of england recently.  well, the whole world is getting ready to be under the rule of a new monarch - King Jesus.

oh, how we have waited and endured and hoped and longed and desired for it to come.  not just we ourselves, but all those dead and long deceased over these past two thousand years and before.  yes, they have surely been with Jesus all this time but i think not in a way they will be in our resurrected bodies.

just think!  today could bring the fulfillment of the age of grace.  there is always a fulfillment.  there must be a fulfillment.  "to everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven." eccl 3:1  some say anticipation is better than the event itself.  i do not believe that is possible in this case.

i don't think a dress rehearsal will be required, but certainly we must be dressed.  it will be with robes of righteousness flowing with golden strands of mercy acts.  i know my lowly spirit may have provided but a single thread in the wedding dress, but all threads are needed to hold the gown together, every stitch.  "the whole body, joined and knit together by what every joint supplies, according to the effective working by which every part does its share, causes growth of the body for the edifying of itself in love." eph 4:16

desire, passion, love, that is the key to everything.  it is the key of david.  "He who has the key of david, He who opens and no one shuts, and shuts and no one opens." rev 3:7  it is love alone that can open the door of a heart.  just as assuredly, it is love alone that will one day close that door, locking out forever those who will not heed the call to embrace it.  the door must be closed to separate those who will from those who will not.

it is not our works, wants or wishes that will get us there.  it is grace alone.  "twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved."  i keep falling in love with Jesus over and over again.  i love Him for yesterday, today and tomorrow - if there is one.  for someday there will be no more tomorrows.  there will be only a now - a forever now.

Lord Jesus, i don't know if this will be the year of Your betrothal.  i don't know for sure this is the correct day to recognize this feast.  i only know for sure You are coming and because of that, i will be here - hoping, waiting, expecting - ready to come running when i hear that "trumpet call."  maranatha!