#always rhett's muse

[link-sans-specs]

I'll never budge, I love sludge!

Mythical IG

GMM2538

Does TikTok Rot Your Brain?

[delopsia]

The way that Rhett just has so much odd shit on him at all times.

On your first date, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hunk of jasper. In the middle of a store, he reached into his shoe and pulled out a broken ruler; said something about forgetting that he put it there and meant to throw it away. Your friend was musing about how ridiculous coin collecting is, and he, for some reason, had a rare penny lurking in his shirt pocket.

More than once, you've turned around and caught him chewing on something he didn't have before. Boiled peanuts, hard candy, gum. He'll offer you some, but it's always warm from being snug against his body all day. At an obscure diner outside of Wabang, Rhett suddenly pulled a gift card out. He'd been carrying it for two years by that point, and he's still got it because there's a dollar and some change left on it.

There's a packet of salt that came in handy when you were given the blandest fries the earth has ever seen. Amy gave him a charm when she was three, and he's still carrying it around. He's got a key that goes to something on the ranch, but nobody remembers to what. You forgot a bracelet in his truck and only realized he had it when you saw it around his wrist. For safekeeping, he said.

You found a little pony figurine in the grass, and it spent a month riding in his shirt pocket until it jumped out and briefly became lost. Now, it sits on a shelf in the bedroom. Amongst all the other trinkets that have spent time hauling around with your beloved cowboy.

[alicewonderao3]

Marry Me

Title: Marry Me

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, reader, OC male character.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader, fem!reader x oc male character.

Summary: When it's finally the day of her wedding, after months of planning, why does she feel like she's making the biggest mistake of her life? Isn't every bride second guessing herself, even on her wedding day?

Warnings: None, just a bit angsty and then fluffy.

Author's note: I had the idea for this earlier this week, while I've been recovering from my hospital trip last week. I was inspired by a song, as usual, Thomas Rhett's 'Marry Me'. My muses said to write this and here it is. I have no beta, so all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine, and I just finished it, so let me know what you think.

The day of the wedding was finally here, sunny and warm. Everything was as it was supposed to be. My grandfather was preaching the wedding service and there were plenty of magnoila's everywhere. It was a small wedding, not too many people. But something didn't feel right. It had been this niggling sensation in the back of my mind for months.

My bridesmaids all told me I was crazy, that I was marrying the perfect man. On paper, Steve was perfect. He was tall, and handsome, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was kind and sweet. Sure, you were supposed to feel sparks, but it didn't always happen, right? My friends told me I'd be crazy to say no to his proposal, so even though I had doubts, I said yes.

I said yes, even as I felt that same feeling in my stomach at my engagement party and my bridal shower. I'd sometimes look down at my ring and my stomach would turn as if I was repulsed by the large diamond ring. My mother told me I'd be crazy to not marry him. But that feeling was still there, and it was even more present this day, standing in my wedding dress, pacing back and forth.

I couldn't get Aaron out of my head. Aaron and I had been friends for forever. He was an FBI agent, tall, handsome, and funny, with brown eyes that sparkled when he teased me and when he laughed. He knew my favorite color and the way I drank my tea. He knew everything about me and I knew everything about him. I couldn't get that night he'd almost kissed me before I met Steve out of my head, that night we spent walking downtown, how he'd paused in the park under that big magnolia tree, and how he'd almost kissed me. I'd never felt such sparks before, never felt so strongly before.

The sparks had always been there, but it was always a case of wrong timing. I remember when he was dating Haley Brooks, and I'd been single, and then I'd be dating someone and he'd be single. All of my friends were dating people, and getting married.

I was pacing back and forth when my dad walked in, a box in his hands. I recognized the tie-dye shirt wrapped around it, a shirt I bought Aaron one summer as a joke gift, but one he loved. It had its place of pride amongst the suits he wore as an FBI agent. Seeing it, wrapped around whatever gift he'd got me, was like a death sentence. It was like the ending of what could be.

I bit back my tears and hesitantly let my dad walk me towards the aisle, but the closer we got the more my nerves increased, and the more I sensed I was doing the wrong thing. I kept panicking and as the opening notes started to play, I took a deep breath and held my flowers and I couldn't do it. I stood there, as everyone stared at me. My eyes met Steve's at the end of the aisle and I realized, I loved Aaron. He loved me.

I glanced down at the large and gaudy ring I wore and met my dad's eyes. He gave me a concerned look and watched as I slipped the ring off, sliding it into his hand. "Tell him I'm sorry?" I said, and he nodded. Then, as everyone gasped, I dropped the too-large bouquet I didn't even like and ran out. I knew right where he'd be, and Dad had pressed his car keys in my hands as I ran out.

I drove there, speeding and praying I wouldn't get pulled over. His car was there, in the parking lot and I ran, faster than I'd ever run before down the paths, in my wedding dress, past people who stared at me until I stopped short of the tree. There he was, standing under the tree, looking wrecked.

He turned around and his eyes met mine. He held his hands up, a shocked look on his face and I started crying, shrugging as my hands landed on my face before I ran to him, launching myself into his arms, and he held me without question. His arms were strong and warm around me as I sobbed into his chest.

"What are you doing? You should be getting married," He said, his voice warm but full of shock as he held me. "I can't, Aaron," I whispered, tears thick in my voice. He was silent for a moment, as he pulled back to look at me. "Why not?" He asked, as one of his thumbs reached up to wipe my tears away.

"Because it felt wrong from the start. Because I'm an idiot for not realizing that I wanted to get married, but that I didn't want to marry Steve. It's you, Aaron. I've been in love with you for years now, and I'm the biggest-" But then his lips descended on mine, and I whimpered as he kissed me, holding me tight as everything suddenly felt right.

Kissing Aaron was like the final puzzle piece being fit into place. Everything felt right again. My world, which had felt so off-center in the months since Steve proposed, now felt right again. I pressed close to him, my lips remaining on his, until we both pulled away to breathe heavily. "I know I'm a big dummy and I should have trusted my gut and said no to Steve, but I'm here. I ran away from my wedding and I'm here."

Aaron hadn't spoken yet, he'd just been listening to me ramble and he pressed his hand to my lips. "Hey, hey," he said, his voice soft. "You're here now. All that other stuff, we'll figure out later. You were always a little slow on the uptake, but you got it. I love you." He'd whispered and I nodded, as I cried again. "I love you too, Aaron Hotchner. I'm sorry it took us so long to get our timing right."

He didn't say anything else, he just leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, kissing me like his life depended on it. I knew I'd have a lot of people to talk to in the next few days, but right now, standing here under the shade of the magnolia tree where I'd had my almost first kiss with Aaron, his lips pressed to mine, everything was right. As long as I had him in my life, things would be okay. I can handle whatever the world throws at me as long as he's by my side.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Musings-of-a-rose's Fic Recs

Musings-of-a-rose’s fic rec list (never complete and always adding!)

This will always be a work in progress, as I will always be adding fics! 

If you need more and can’t wait for me to update, you can search on my blog for #fic rec and all of them will come up!

Frankie “Catfish” Morales:

Fix You by @astoryisaloveaffair

Howl by @astoryisaloveaffair

My Drug is My Baby (age gap) by @astoryisaloveaffair

Run Through the Jungle by @astoryisaloveaffair

The Bachlorette AU by @icanbeyourjedi

Sex Worker Frankie AU by @prolix-yuy

Still of the Night (Signs/Triple Frontier mashup) by @foli-vora

Trustworthy by @need-a-fugue

The Candyman by @hopeamarsu (this is a series but I’m linking chapter 1 here)

Oberyn Martell:

Burning Bright by @tropes-and-tales

And So We Sing in Elegies by @haildoodles-writing

Pero Tovar:

My Mercenary Bold by @astoryisaloveaffair

Petrichor by @rainontherooftops

Cathedrals of Our Own by @haylzcyon

The Cross by @blueeyesatnight 

Safe Haven by @marvel-and-mischief

Wedding Night by @absurdthirst

Zach Wellison:

You’re So Classic by @chaoticgeminate

Inn Over Your Head by @javierpinme

Max Phillips:

Take the Pain Away by @icanbeyourjedi

Dave York:

Baby, Let the Games Begin by @wyn-n-tonic

Maxwell Lord:

Shutterbug by @lowlights

What’s Love Got to Do With It by @storiesofthefandomlovers

Din Djarin:

Healer by @bestintheparsec

Marcus Pike:

Our Last Christmas by @supernaturalgirl20

Javi G:

Insatiable by @javierpinme

Hush by @javier-pena

Agent Whiskey:

Harder to Hold by @brandyllyn

The Traveler by @silksaddle

Marcus Moreno:

Yo Te Prometo by @marvelousmermaid

Here Without You Now by @wyn-n-tonic

Javier Peña:

Better Love by @disgruntledspacedad

It Takes Two by @icanbeyourjedi

Self Sacrifice by @albertasunrise

Into the Dark by @juletheghoul

Hermosa by @keala on Ao3

Joel Miller:

Days of You and Me by @wyn-n-tonic 

That’s a Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic

Dieter Bravo:

Disturbia by @astoryisaloveaffair

Win a Date With Dieter Bravo by @icanbeyourjedi

Simulated by @prolix-yuy

Teacher Ben (SNL):

Love, Wings, and Football by @icanbeyourjedi

Rainy Days by @chaoticgeminate

Well Read by @wyn-n-tonic

The Thief

Enigma by @javier-pena

Tim Rockford:

Apple Pie America by @rainontherooftops

Jay Castillo:

The Wedding Date by @icanbeyourjedi

Triple Frontier Boys:

The Audition by @astoryisaloveaffair

Santiago “Pope” Garcia:

The Best of Us by @a-bang-for-your-bucky

Benjamin “Benny” Miller:

I Got Away With You by @mermaidxatxheart

I’ll Be Your Brightside by @dameronscopilot

Only You by @albertasunrise

Timing Is Everything by @theewokingdead

Benergy by @theewokingdead

La Primera Fiesta by @marvelousmermaid

Looking For You by @green-socks

Commitment Issues by @coweye

Sunshine State by @brewsterispunkk

William “Ironhead” Miller:

Return to Honeymoon by @carni-val

Bucky Barnes “Winter Soldier”:

Paint Me a Memory by @mermaidxatxheart

My One and Only by @mermaidxatxheart

Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim

Poe Dameron:

The Bet by @no-droids

The Art of Falling by @brandyllyn

Clint Barton “Hawkeye”:

Sure Shot by @astoryisaloveaffair

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range):

Sacred Oasis by @wyn-n-tonic

Selfish by @dameronscopilot

Lessons by @wyn-n-tonic

Tommy Miller (The Last of Us - HBO):

That’s a Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic

I’ll Have Another by @wyn-n-tonic

Violent Delights, Violent Ends by @ay0nha 

I Need You to Tell Me I’m Good by @psychedelic-ink

[jungle-angel]

A Dream In Winter (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You and Rhett are waiting out the cold winter by making plans for spring

Tagging: @floydsmuse and @bobfloydsbabe

The book barn was as warm as ever with the woodstove going and the living green from Christmas still hung everywhere. Outside the snow was blowing fast and hard, whipping across the Abbott land like a pack of wild wolves.

Willie slithered his way into Rhett's lap, meowing like crazy as he licked Rhett's face. "Where's your wife Willie?" he chuckled.

Another meow followed by the tiny mewing of the kittens in the wooden nesting box had answered his question. Eight tiny kittens, four boys and four girls were being nursed by tiny, still blind and so new to this world, having arrived just in time for Christmas.

Rhett looked outside and saw the snow falling harder than before, sighing deeply. Winters in the Rockies tended to last much longer than any other place Rhett knew of and the winter blues that came with it were, to say the least, unpleasant.

"You feeling ok Rhett?" you asked him, handing him the mug full of hazelnut coffee.

"Yeah just thinkin darlin," he sighed. "Wishin for an early spring."

You nodded in agreement. You yourself had grown weary of the winter already, desperate to see the green grass and to see the earth flourishing again. Often times, you and Betsy Livingston, one of Amy's kindergarten teachers, had gotten together for coffee and lamenting at how long the winters could be.

"Maybe we should start prepping for spring?" you asked him. "Would that make you feel better?"

Rhett chuckled and pulled out a notebook and a pen from the storage drawer under the window seat where he had been sitting. "Alright what are we doin here darlin?" he asked.

"Garden," you told him.

"Whatcha thinkin?"

"Tomatoes," you answered. "We'll definitely need tomatoes and I'm thinking cucumbers and peppers."

"Alright, what else?" Rhett asked.

"Ooh, carrots," you told him. "So your mom can make her chicken soup in the fall. Squash is always a good one, Betsy will probably take some squash."

"Any herbs?" Rhett asked, scrawling away in the notebook.

"Basil, catnip for the cats," you told him. "Lavender is always a good one, mint, anything that you can make medicine with."

Rhett hummed at the thought. Already your dream garden was beginning to smell so good.

"Grapes wouldn't be so bad either," he mused. "Big fat dark blueish-purple grapes that we can use to make juice for Amy. Beats havin to buy it at the farm store."

You laughed a little. As good as the farm store was, it was still wretchedly expensive to buy things there. Any opportunity you and Rhett could take to make or grow your own food was a welcome opportunity.

"Blueberries," he chuckled. "Gotta have blueberries for Dad, he's a fiend for'em."

"Oh God, do you remember that time he put a dent in Sara's blueberry pie?" you laughed.

"Don't even get me started on the jam sweetheart," Rhett laughed. "Alright, what else?"

"Huckleberries," you answered. "They smell so sweet.....just like you."

Rhett chuckled as he pulled you in and kissed you. He couldn't wait to get started on the little project come spring, watching it all come to life and watching the earth flourish with it.

[wildbornsiren]

Home isn’t just a place || Rhett Abbott/F!Reader.

Home isn’t just a place. 

Summary: He’s missed you.  "Sometimes home is a person because you can come inside.” 

1,334 words. Female/AFAB reader.

Warning: EXPLICIT MINORS DNI: unprotected vaginal sex. Creampie. 

Notes: For @hoe-on-the-range who always has delicious ideas. Comments and reblogs fuel the muses, likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it’s appreciated and means the most. 

**Tag list is done. Please follow and turn on notifications for @wbslibrary **

The door slams downstairs, and you can hear the heavy thumps of Rhett’s boots hitting the floor. The stairs creak as he climbs them, and you can hear him humming a song. You’re snuggled up in bed, on his side, cuddling one of his pillows to your chest, reading a book.

“You awake darlin?” He’s draped in the doorframe, baseball cap pulled low on his head. The hallway light illuminates him from behind and you can’t help but grin at him.

“I can be.” You set the book on the bedside table, sitting up. You catch the spark of heat in his gaze when the blankets move, showing off your thigh. “I’m glad you’re home early.” Weather had shut down an out of state rodeo, so he was home a week earlier than expected. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to ride.”

Rhett shrugs, the flannel shirt pulling tight across his chest. “It was an expo ride, so I got paid anyway.” He steps away from the doorframe, crossing the room in a few steps to stand at the foot of the bed. He tips his head, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as he looks you over. “I missed you.” It’s simple, and soft and it manages to make your heart skip a beat.

“I’m right here cowboy.” You squeak when he crawls onto the bed, up your body, tossing his cap aside, catching your mouth in a kiss. He tastes like mint, but under that is tobacco. It’s familiar and warm, and so very Rhett. You missed it more than you knew, and when you wrap your arms around him, pulling him down against you, he moans into the kiss.

“You feel good darlin’.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw, the curve of your neck. “Hotel beds suck, especially when you’re not with me.” Your fingers comb through his hair, and he rumbles softly against your skin.

“This bed is too big without you in it.”

“I’m not used to havin’ the covers to myself.” He laughs softly, and it raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Mmhm, Mr. Bony elbows and random leg kicks.”

“I ride bulls for a living baby girl. Sometimes things just twitch.” He kisses the tip of your nose, before easing his mouth over yours again.

“Rhett, what’s twitching right now isn’t because of bull riding.” Your lips bush against his when you speak, and he smiles easily. It’s brilliant and warm, and one of those rare things that he saves just for you.

“That’s all because of you darlin’.” He drops more of his weight against you, rocking his hips gently. He’s hard, restrained by his jeans, a slight tremor to his voice. Fingertips sliding the hem of your oversized sleep shirt up, another low sound coming from him when there’s nothing but his clothing between the two of you. He tosses the shirt aside, gently drawing your legs up, around his waist as he kneels between your legs.

“I’m feeling a little underdressed here.”

Rhett hums against your shoulder, kissing along your collarbone, to your chest. The scrape of his scruff against soft skin sends heat coursing through you. His hands are so gentle, reverent as he skims up your sides, mapping your curves. There’s a playful nip to the curve of your breast, before he’s licking over the bite, soothing any discomfort. He pulls away with a reluctant groan, unbuttoning his shirt, shedding it and his undershirt, before he’s braced over you again, skin to skin. He’s warm and heavy, all angles and sharp edges, but you can’t imagine anything better than this man who touches you like you’re precious.

“You’re so beautiful darlin’.” His thumb brushes along your lower lip, eyes drinking you in. “Can I touch you? Wanna come home so badly.”

“Rhett you are home.” Your teeth catch the tip of his thumb, and he smirks.

“Not quite yet.” Calloused fingers draw a light line down your midline. Between your breasts, down your stomach, sliding between your legs. Feather light touch, teasing, drawing soft sounds from your throat, before his fingers drag through your arousal, brushing along your slit. His index finger pushes into you, and you arch slightly into the touch. Kisses rain down on your neck, your cheek, your mouth. Again and again, until you’re both breathless, his forehead resting against yours, breathing each other in. A second finger eases into you, the two thrusting in tandem, pressing deep and slow.

“Rhett,” your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently. He kisses you again, tongue sliding past your lips, licking into your mouth. His thumb brushes against your clit, he’s swallowing the noises that spill into his mouth, groaning as he deepens the kiss, pressing more of his weight into you. “Baby please, more.” You pant quietly, kissing the corner of his mouth, lips brushing against the scruff on his jaw.

“You ready for me sweet girl?” He murmurs. His fingers curl again, seeking out that sweet spot, and you keen, arching against him as he drags his fingers over it, maddeningly slow.

You nod frantically, voice cracking as you cry out for him. “Please, please Rhett.”

He slides his fingers from you, licking them clean, his eyes closing briefly. Rhett undoes his belt buckle and jeans, shoving them down narrow hips, freeing his cock from his boxers. His fingers drag through your arousal again, and you can’t look away as he strokes himself with soaked fingers. He urges your legs further apart, settling between them, thrusting into you in one slow, steady movement.

You clutch at his shoulders, shivering when he lets out a breathy moan, settled inside of you. He’s bottomed out, deep inside you. He’s panting softly against your shoulder before he lifts his head with a soft smile.

“Now I’m home sweetheart.” Rhett murmurs softly. He draws his hips back before thrusting into you.

“Fuck,” his voice cracks softly. He’s gentle and sweet, slowly giving you every inch. Every touch, kiss, praise whispered against your skin, the way he watches you, how his body trembles with restraint, it’s so much more than your usual tumbles in the sheets with this cowboy.

Words slip past your lips, ones that you’ve whispered in the early morning hours when he’s snoring, drooling against a pillow. Ones that you keep close to your heart when you’re watching him ride, when the nerves and worry are thick in your throat.

“Love you too,” his lips brush the shell of your ear. “So much, been dreamin’ about you since I left.” His hands draw your hips closer, his thrusts pressing deeper, but no faster. He’s completely taking you apart cell by cell, with his touch, the love that radiating from him in waves. “Not just this either. Your smile, your laugh. The way your hand fits in mine.” He grunts softly, hips snapping once, twice, driving into you a bit rougher.

That spiral of pleasure in your belly snaps when he kisses you again. He’s claiming you in every way he can. You’d give him anything he asked, if only he would hold onto you like this just a little longer, a little tighter. You whimper against his mouth as you come, and he loses his focus, his hips stuttering against yours. He fucks you through your orgasm, fingers once more circling your clit, urging you higher, for more, leaving you moaning and clutching at him. His head drops, long hair obscuring his face when he comes, buried in you.

Rhett drops on top of you, collapsing in your arms. Your hands rub his back, feeling muscles flex under your touch. He’s making a sound that’s almost a purr and you can’t help but smile.

“You alright there?” You tip your head, kissing his temple. Your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest, but his breathing is so steady and slow.

“Give me a minute darlin’,” he says. “Then I’ll get you in the bath. Want bubbles and you.”

/end

[themonotonysyndrome]

I’m such a huge fan of your fan fiction! Congratulations on it so far! 🫶🏽

Is it possible if you can write a quick Rhett x water ascendant listener one shot the last one was so good and idk it’s just hits different

Anyways THANKS FOR READING 💗🫶🏽

Awww, thank you for your compliment, uh... Dishes? DKJFNDJKF You're very kind.

Hmm... sure! One Rhett x Queen Ascendant coming up!

-

Water and serenity always go hand-in-hand for the new Queen of Intacia. It's harmony on Earth, especially after long hours locked behind doors with the Parliament. With warm sunlight softly kissing her bare shoulders and her fingertips lightly brushing the water's surface, Isolde sighed as the stress and tension of the day melted like snow.

"I should ask Celly if a Regent can take a day off from work," She mused, basking like a spoiled cat near the Palace's fountain. "If not, I'm sure Rhett can be convinced to do a public holiday of sorts after a few rounds in bed." Pleased with the idea, Isolde mentally planned a day where she and her bestie could shop for some new lingerie.

Some rustling bushes suddenly catch her attention. A rather fat squirrel with a cookie in its mouth immediately darted out, followed by a little boy. Bits of twigs and leaves are sticking out from his ruffled hair, and his rosy cheeks are dirtied. Actually, his little clothes, too.

Isolde watches in bafflement as the little boy cries out, "Nooooo! Gimme 'ack my cookie!"

Alas, the squirrel paid no heed to the desperate words of the boy and scurried off onto a tall tree with its prize, vanishing between the branches and holes.

"Well. You don't see that every day. I supposed the kitchens would need to be warned and keep an eye out for the furry thief." Isolde decided and went over to comfort the now crying boy. The hems of her dress became muddy (not that she paid it any mind. Clothes can always be washed, after all) when she crouched down and searched for any sign of injuries on the boy. "Hey, hey - it's alright, ok? You're alright. Has Mr. Squirrel been bullying you all day?" Isolde asks softly. If so, the Palace might need to do some emergency pest control. Wouldn't want the local animals to become the next force to attempt to overthrow the palace.

"Mama... mama gave me a cookie 'cause I'm a good boy," The little one hiccuped a sob. "I w-waited and waited all day for Mama in the big kitchen."

Ah, this child must be the son of one of the Palace's chefs. This won't do. This won't do at all. Isolde will not allow this little boy to be sad any longer.

With the utmost seriousness befitting of a queen, she announced, "A reward must be given to good boys. More so after he had been unjustly denied. This I ordained as so."

The little boy's face scrunched up, confused at such big words, but nevertheless, allowed Isolde to hold his hand and bring him towards the water fountain. The innocence of a child could not grasp the concept that he's being doted upon and entertained by royalty.

After gently hoisting him up so the little boy can sit beside her, Isolde knows just the thing that can cheer him up. "While we will venture to the kitchen and conquer it as it's within our dues, first, we must be presentable!" She waves her arm over the water. Her fingers begin moving like a master pianist.

The little boy's eyes widen in awe, in excitement as water dances around him. Isolde hums and twirls a finger, making the floating water take the shapes of sea animals like whales, otters and dolphins. For the new few minutes, a cheerful giggle enveloped the garden as Isolde cleaned the dirt off of the boy's face, hands and head with magic.

If you told an Intacian and Imperial from centuries ago that a Water Ascendant is performing parlour tricks to an Intacian boy, neither of them would've believed you.

And when Rhett stumbled upon the two, it's that notion that he works hard on becoming a reality.

[foolishmortalmuses]

LILAC GROVE, NY. POPULATION 3, 300.

Nestled in the Adirondacks of New York state, lies a fictional small lake side town called Lilac Grove. The town surrounds the fictional Lilac Lake, where families from all over visit during the Summer months. Whether you were born and raised there, or are returning for one reason or another, the Lilac always calls you back home. The lake welcomes all from every walk of life. Now that you're here, what mark will you leave?

Lilac Grove is a small Discord server roleplay started by a small group of friends. The rules are lax and there's plenty of fun to be had. If large groups aren't your thing, then we may be perfect for you! Please be OVER 21, write in 3rd person and use real faces for your muses.

Some wanted FCs are; Max Thieriot, James Lafferty, Sophia Bush, Chad Michael Murray, Elizabeth Olsen, Brandon Sklenar, Thomas Rhett, Anthony Mackie, Seth Rollins, Roman Reigns, Niall Horan.

[eliaskahtri]

Clap Your Hands if you Believe || Elias & Rhett

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Outside the Mushroom Circle PARTIES: Rhett (@ironcladrhett) & Elias SUMMARY: Rhett corners Elias after getting of work in order to get some answers out of him. Turns out, Elias knows nothing about faeries. CONTENT WARNING: Gun use, general violence

It had been a long day. Elias had finally worked a full shift behind the bar, and the patrons kept getting him to divulge secrets out of him. Now a random lady named Persephone knew who his crush was, his favorite color (light blue, obviously), and his irrational fear of bunnies. He was glad the day was over, but he had made decently good tips. The sun had long since set, and he bid farewell to his coworkers as he exited the front after cleaning up. He paused momentarily as he rifled through his pant pocket to retrieve his car keys. They were buried under random wads of paper he’d pocketed throughout the day. Finally getting them out, he exclaimed a little “aha!” before walking towards his parked car on the street. 

Hearing something drop on the pavement behind him, he whipped his head around, a little paranoid since it was so late at night. “Hello?” Elias called out, clutching his keys a little tighter. No answer. He waited a few seconds. One, two, still nothing. “Must have been the raccoons,” he mused aloud as he turned around to keep walking to his car. As he walked, he twirled the key ring around his finger, humming a nondescript tune to himself. Then, footsteps. Whipping around again, he came face to face with a stranger he had never seen before. “What… can I help you?” He asked with a confused look, unsure what to expect from the man before him.

He’d just been happening by; yes late at night, no definitely not because this fucking place lit up his warden senses like a god damn christmas tree about to burst into flames from too many lights. Anyway, he’d been happening by when he saw someone coming out the front. Someone who reeked of fae, and coming out of that club, it was no surprise. So, being a very rational person and not one driven by impulse at all, Rhett ducked into the alley to wait for him to lower his guard again, before approaching swiftly on foot.

The target whipped around looking surprised, and Rhett grinned. “That depends,” he growled, knowing that the street was empty at this hour and using that to his advantage. His iron dagger was drawn with expert swiftness as he closed the distance between them, grabbing the stranger by the throat and pressing the tip of the knife against his side. “That club you just came outta. Run by fae, aye? You’re gonna tell me a few things about ‘em, n’ about yourself.” His alarms were getting a little quieter now, and he wondered if maybe he’d managed to grab the one fucking human that worked there—didn’t matter. Could still use him. 

Pushing them back to the alley for added privacy, Rhett easily manhandled the other thanks to both his stature and his superhuman strength, pinning him against the brick wall and giving him a hard stare. “So, first thing’s first. You human, lad?”

Taken off guard, Elias had no time to react to the sudden grip on his throat and knife on his side. So instead of fighting back, he stood there helplessly with wide eyes. “What… what the fuck are you talking about?” He gritted out, fear and confusion evident on his face. “Fae? What the fuck does that mean?” He frowned. He had thought about the idea that faeries ran the bar once. It made sense, but it also made sense in the same way that the princess always gets the prince at the end of a fairytale because it was just that. “I work for people?” He then added, but it came out more as a question than a statement. The wild look in the man’s eyes, the clear determination and hatred. This had to be someone truly off their rocker, and he didn’t know what to do. He’d never been accosted before. He was completely unprepared. 

He was pushed into the alley and saw his life flash before his eyes. Pinned against the wall behind him, his fear only grew. Then he was asked if he was human. What? “What do you mean am I human? Of course, I’m fucking human! What else would I be?” He thought for a moment. Oh God, did this guy think he was a faerie? A demon in disguise, was he hearing things that told him to act on it? Oh man, he was going to die here. “I’m human and don’t know what the hell is going on!” He added, beginning to thrash against the hold the older man had on him.

Shit. Fucking shit, of course he’d wrangled a nonbelieving human. That wouldn’t be helpful, not at all. And where it was supposed to part of his thankless job to make sure as few people knew about the existence of fae as possible, this was an exception. Fuck, his life had become an exception. He’d given up being clandestine about the whole thing years ago. 

“Alright, listen here, John Doe. Ya work for fae. Faeries. Fair folk? Fuck, you know, like the kiddie bedtime stories, ‘cept way worse. They feed on folk like you. Normal folk. They’re god damn dangerous, and I’m lookin’ for one in particular that I think mighta come through this town. So you’re gonna answer my questions, aye? N’ I might not gut ya here n’ now.” The knife pressed harder into Elias’ side when he started to thrash, as a warning.  

“Her name’s Mari. Mariela. Dark hair, honeyed eyes. Mighta looked a little bit like she was glowin’, like an aura of sorts.” God, how did he describe a sun nymph to someone who didn’t believe in them? “... mighta had a kid with her.” Well. Wouldn’t be a kid anymore. “Er. A twenty-something. Seen anyone like that? Heard that name on any-fuckin’-fae’s lips?”

Unable to do anything else, Elias stared at Rhett like he had grown a second head. “You’re telling me you believe in faeries.” He stated blankly, unable to believe his ears. Sure, as a kid and in fantasy stories, faeries were interesting. They had cool wings and were usually really small and flew around everywhere. “You’re telling me Tinkerbell walks among us?” He then added, trying desperately not to laugh in the clearly delusional man’s face.

He frowned as the man began to describe someone. He saw so many people every time he worked at the bar that he wasn’t sure if he had actually seen her. He quickly shook his head. He would have remembered someone who glowed. “No, sure haven’t.” Elias snipped out. Even though he had a knife against his throat, he needed to fight back a little, even if it was only with his words and tone of voice and not much else. 

He wanted to kick the man away and run badly, but he knew his strength didn’t match the guy who held him to the wall. The knife was uncomfortable against his throat, and he thought of all the ways his assailant could use it against him if he tried to fight physically. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Elias barked out, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side. 

“No, ya fuckin’ daft idiot, not like Tinkerbell. Like spriggans, like fauns n’ muses n’ fuckin’ territorial arse nymphs that’ll sooner rip yer head off for lookin’ at their favorite tree wrong than sprinkle ya in sparkle dust to make ya fly!” Growling in frustration, Rhett was about to release his grip on the man, realizing he was going to be next to useless. Unless…

Rhett pressed his blade against the man’s flesh, speaking through clenched teeth. “Listen here, bucko, I don’t give a shite what you believe in, hear? I need to get in that club n’ have a lil chat with the proprietor. They still in there?” He knew someone was, he’d heard the man saying goodbye to at least one person that was still inside. Whoever they were, they’d do. They’d certainly be better than this unhelpful lump. “Fuck it, don’t care who it is. Come on.” 

Hunter strength ensured that his grip on the stranger wouldn’t be broken, regardless of how much he fought to free himself. And Rhett marched him right back up to the door he come walking out of, swapping his knife for a pistol along the way, positioning himself beside Elias and out of sight while keeping the muzzle pressed to his side. 

“Ya forgot somethin’. Go on, unlock ‘er. Ain’t got all night.” 

Elias’s eyes darted back and forth, unsure of what to make of the situation. This wasn’t the first time someone had tried to tell him that faeries were real. That woman he had conversed with online had tried to convince him of the same thing. He knew they were a thing in Ireland, but beyond that, he knew nothing of them besides Tinkerbell from Peter Pan. But here he was, held at knifepoint by a crazy older man trying to convince him of the impossible. 

Then, the stranger turned it up a notch. The knife pressed harder into his skin, and Elias flinched as if he would drive it through his flesh and into his neck. The proprietor? He had never met the person that owned the place, just his managers. He didn’t know what to do, and suddenly he was being shuffled to the front of the building, becoming acutely aware of when the knife was replaced with a gun. 

Feeling a lump rise in his throat, Elias prepared himself for the worst. Nothing worked, no matter how hard he tried to shake the man off of him. He was stuck, and the gun's muzzle reminded him that trying to escape wasn’t a good idea. He wouldn’t make it out of this if he didn’t comply. He began to panic. He had no way to warn the people inside the building that a maniac was holding him at gunpoint to get to them. He didn’t have a choice. Clenching his eyes shut, he pulled a key out of his pocket and shakily brought it up to the lock, inserting the key into it and unlocking the door. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Elias waited for the man to pull the trigger, to do something since he was clearly just a pawn in whatever this man had planned. “Just get it over with,” he growled out, not wanting to be a part of this any longer. But he needed to protect the people inside, but he was defenseless. The man was too strong to overpower and had nothing on him to retaliate with. 

Narrowing his eyes at the man on the other end of his weapon, Rhett frowned. He wasn’t playing the part very well, but maybe it didn’t matter. “Go inside,” he hissed, following after him with the gun still pressed to his back, nudging against his spine. One wrong move, and it was curtains for his legs. 

Whoever else was still in the building was surprised to hear the door unlock and open again, coming around the corner from the back. “Elias? Forget something?” they asked, before their eyes widened seeing the stranger standing behind him. 

Rhett’s alarms were screaming now, and he grinned. His free hand grabbed Elias by the shoulder while the other lifted the gun into the air and brought the grip of it down against his temple, with the objective of putting him down for a minute or two. Wasn’t a killing blow for certain—the idiot was human, after all. Just a warning. 

Moving around the man, Rhett held the gun up in the manager’s face, motioning for them to come closer. “Tell me what I want, n’ Elias here don’t gotta die,” he lied, jerking his head at the employee he’d accosted. The manager lifted their hands, looking terrified. Pathetic. Rhett closed the distance between them and grasped at the nape of their neck, diffusing the iron in his blood to make his grip burn them, which resulted in a throaty scream. 

“Lookin’ fer a hesperide named Mariela,” Rhett repeated. “Got it on good authority she came through this way. You know anyone like that?” They didn’t respond fast enough and Rhett grew angry, shoving them against the wall and pushing the pistol’s muzzle between their eyes. “I asked you a fuckin’ question!”

“I-I—yeah! Yeah, she came through here!”

“How long?!”

“I don’t know, maybe four months ago?!” 

Four months? Fuck, that was too long. Better than nothing, but still too goddamn long. “She have anyone with her?”

“A younger kid… twenty something.” 

“Fae?”

“Y-yes. She said it was her daughter. S-said they were trying to find an aos sí—” That was all Rhett really needed to hear. He let go of the fae, taking a step back but still keeping his weapon trained on them. 

“Thanks, y’been real helpful,” he snarled, clicking off the safety.

Crumpled to the ground with a ringing in his ears and a pain in his head, Elias lay on the floor helplessly. Then, he opened his eyes to the gun cocking. 

No. 

Crawling to his knees, Elias ran at the hunter with his back turned and tackled him to the ground with as much force as he could muster. 

“Run!” He shouted to his coworkers, who stared at the scene with horror. 

“We’re not leaving you here!” Elias’s manager shouted in turn, running over to the hunter and stepping hard onto his hand with the heel of her shoe. The gun clattered across the ground, and the fae picked it up, aiming it at the hunter’s head. 

Elias’s eyes widened, and he clambered away as the hunter began to fight him off. “Please, just go!” Elias shouted. “No one wants to hurt you, and we don’t want you to hurt us. You got the information. Now just leave!” He felt helpless, and now his head was pounding in his skull. 

He watched as his vision blurred and eyes drooped. He didn’t expect his night to get this eventful. He didn’t know if he would leave this situation alive, and what would he do if he did? Who would believe that any of this happened?

His manager kept the gun trained on Rhett, gesturing for him to get out with a swish of the gun.

He might’ve heard it, if not for the blood rushing in his ears as his adrenaline spiked. He might have seen it, if not for the fact that his peripheral vision was entirely blackened. The reality was that the warden had gotten pretty shit at his job, and so a pissant little human was the thing to turn the tide of the altercation, knocking him to the floor of the club and the breath from his lungs right along with it. 

A foot came down on his hand and he hissed in pain, losing his grip on the weapon and watching as it skipped across the floor, only to end up in the fae’s hand. Immediately he started to wrestle with the man that’d knocked him down, trying to swing at him but only managing to get him up and off the floor without any more damage being dealt. 

So. This was how it was, then. Pinned in place with his own fucking gun pointed at his head, Rhett pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, glaring up at the fae that held the weapon. It gestured for him to leave, and he gritted his teeth furiously. He could hear Emilio’s voice in his head, telling him to just get the fuck out of there—like the human was saying, he’d gotten the info he wanted. He was down a gun, but that was replaceable. The opportunity to slaughter Mariela was not. 

Getting slowly to his feet, hands on display in a placatory manner, the warden didn’t meet the manager’s gaze again. If he’d had any pride, it would surely be wounded, but as it was… he just didn’t want to give the bitch any more reason to shoot him in the head. “Fine,” he bit out, his angry gaze instead settling on the man he’d accosted in the alley. “My business ain’t with you lot, anyway.” Taking a step back, the hunter turned away from them, hands still held at shoulder-height as he moved for the exit. And the moment he was both out of sight and earshot, he let out a string of frustrated curses. 

Stupid fucking eyes. Stupid fucking fae. Fuck. Whatever. At least he was on the right trail. And there was a kid… his? Maybe, maybe not. Didn’t matter. Now it was time to scour the area surrounding this town for hidden aos sí like his life depended on it. Or in this case, his death. 

Elias didn’t let his shoulders drop until the man had left the building. He didn’t let out the breath he was holding until he knew it was safe. He heard the gun clatter onto the countertop, and he turned to see a very shaken woman. “I-” he began to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. He was terrified. This was the second horrific thing to happen to him there, and time hadn’t passed much between the murder and this. Everyone standing there looked shaken up. And finally, he found the words. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let him in.” He began but was quickly cut off by raising the woman’s hand. “Elias, this isn’t your fault.” She began, staring at the door as if the man could barge back in at any moment. Then, she finally looked at him, really looked at him. “Elias, I’m so sorry, but I don’t think you should return.” She spoke, voice meek. She was having a hard time looking him in the eyes. 

Elias’s heart sank. “What?” “It’s not safe,” she said, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “You’re not safe here. And we shouldn’t have hired a…” she cut herself off, shaking her head. “We’ll mail you your final paycheck.” She then spoke, staring down at the gun she had discarded. “I’m sorry.”  Elias stood there momentarily, emotions flooding to the surface, but then he swallowed them before they could become too much. “I wish everyone luck.” He spoke softly, then walked out the door, checking both ways that that man wouldn’t follow him. Now with a concussion and a sense of defeat, Elias finally walked to his car to go home.

[crowdedmidnight]

Closed Starter for @savethelastdance​

muse: Rhett Perry {Austin Butler, 31 yrs old, Farmhand by day, Musician by night}

plot: muse A is important to a loved one of muse B who made them promise to take care of muse A while they’re gone ( either on a deathbed, separated by war, had to move etc. ).  muse B is begrudging about the unwanted responsibility at first, but over the course of their time spent together starts to develop romantic feelings.  they know acting on it would compromise their promise,  but they can’t help themselves. 

“Well, this is awkward...”Rhett decides to break the silence at the dinner table. Taking a glance at the person adjacent from him, he gives them a small nod. “I’m sorry for your loss. {Your Relative’s name} was a great person. Always nagging and making me do better. I can’t imagine how much you miss them...” he jabs his steak with his fork. “Are you sure, your willing to learn the ropes around here?”

[link-sans-specs]

Can I do it with your iris?

GMM2529

Can We Find the Name Brand?

[delopsia]

Thinking about Rhett encountering your Roomba...

Growing up on that ancient ranch, where the only thing that changes are the faces that inhabit it, it comes as no surprise that he doesn't understand a damn thing about it. A man that can ride a bull and make it look easy but can't send figure out Instagram to save his life.

Rhett's a quick learner, the kind who only needs to be shown once or twice, and then he's got the hang of it. He's still figuring out the acronyms, he's made social media accounts just to make an effort to be a part of your online presence. Never the kind to leave a comment, but always makes sure to press that little heart button beneath your posts.

So when you decide to bring home a Roomba, Rhett's inevitable reaction to it isn't even a thought in your head.

Until the little guy is running around, mapping out the layout of your home, and Rhett comes home from work.

"You're home early," you chirp from where you've settled yourself on the far end of the couch, nose deep in your phone. No amount of effort can conceal those heavy footsteps across your hardwood floor; Lord knows Rhett can't sneak up on anyone.

Silence.

No words are offered, not even a kiss on the forehead as he passes by. The only indication you have that he's there is the shadow he's casting over you.

"Rhett?"

He's just...standing there. Looking down at his feet, deep blue eyes carefully tracking the movements of something passing by. "The hell's this?"

Your first thought is that you've dropped something. A handout from the mail or one of those flyers the local Boy Scouts keep tacking onto your door handle, but the last thing you expect to turn and see is the new household appliance. "The Roomba?"

"A room-huh?" He can't seem to take his eyes off of it, tracking it even as it turns and slowly meanders back under the couch. "What is it doin'?"

In the end, you have to hand him the manual in order for him to understand what it's doing. Once he wraps his head around it, you figure that's going to be the end of it.

That Saturday, you walk into the kitchen to find Rhett with the Roomba and a cup of rice because he refuses to believe that it actually works.

"So what are you going to do to the poor thing now?" Yawning as you get your favorite mug down from the cabinet. The little vacuum has indeed picked up his strategically placed rice, and now they're just sitting together on the floor.

"Name it."

"You're naming the vacuum?"

"Yes."

And that's how the Roomba gets its name. Dave.

It's such a brief interaction that it slips your mind mere minutes after the conversation. The Roomba is just a Roomba with no names involved. Until a few days later, and Rhett comes home right as the vacuum is running its routine of sweeping up your kitchen.

"Hello, beautiful," he muses in between welcome-home kisses, his smile growing a little bigger with each one. Four, five, six, kisses, and he's going in to steal a seventh when little vacuum scoot past his feet. You think his eyes sparkle at the sight of the device as he quietly chirps, "hello to you too, Dave."

You don't know if Rhett's actively seeking Dave out or if it's a true coincidence, but they wind up encountering each other every time he comes home. One minute Rhett's just come in the door, all of his attention on you, and the next, he's looking at the damn vacuum like it's his firstborn.

And maybe that's why he's so heartbroken when he walks by the couch right as Dave emerges from beneath. One big cowboy boot is all it takes for Rhett to accidentally crushes the poor thing. Dave manages to drag himself six inches away from the crime scene, emits a few distressed beeps as if to say his final words, and dies.

"Rhett, it's fine!" Your protests only fall upon deaf ears as you trail him to the garage, "it's still under warranty; I can get it replaced."

"I've killed Dave." Even though he's having a hard time trying to stay serious, Rhett's already committed to the bit. He's killed Dave, and he's two seconds from turning himself in for murder.

The warranty is on standby while your technologically inept cowboy attempts to bring Dave back from the dead. One of your friends comes over to visit, and when you inevitably explain that Rhett's busy attempting to fix Dave after crushing him the other day, she's only got more questions.

"Who's Dave?"

And it's at this point that you realize you've been referring to the vacuum by name. "The Roomba we got on clearance."

A few days later, you're just about to contact the manufacturer about a replacement. Rhett's been tinkering and tinkering, and aside from a brief instance when Dave turned on for less than a few seconds, he's had no luck. You've had to go back to the old-fashioned way of vacuuming, and if you have to lug that big piece of junk out of the closet one more time, you're going to fight Rhett for custody of Dave.

You've just opened the manufacturer's website when the door busts open. And, in Rhett's hands, a cracked Roomba contentedly beeps with life. He's a little dented, and there's a crack running along the top, but that's nothing a cheekily placed bandaid can't fix.

So Dave lives to see another day.

Although, sometimes, you wish you'd never brought Dave home in the first place. He hijacks your lanyard and carries it halfway across the house. Sometimes he deliberately comes over and tries to vacuum your feet. And, somehow, he manages to barge into the bedroom right when you and Rhett are getting a little too wrapped up in each other.

Albeit reluctantly, Rhett draws away from your lips, looking off toward the now-open door. Shakes his head, turns back to close the gap between you once more, then cracks. "Hold on."

You think he's going to say he's forgotten to put the condoms in the bedside table again, or he hears something outside. But, much to your surprise, he picks Dave up off the floor like a cat, places him in the hall, and shuts the door.

Dave proceeds to hang around by the door. The. Entire. Time.

For the most part, Dave's alright, though. He does his job, and he'd might as well just be another pet at this point. He's got an array of cute covers to hide his battle scars from the Great Crushing Incident of 2023, and everyone knows him by name at this point.

Then one day, you're washing dishes in the sink, and something catches your eye. Something big and brown crawls past your peripheral vision. You're expecting to turn and see that the neighbor's cat has broken in through the window again, but...that's not what you see at all.

Rhett's cowboy hat is strolling past you.

And from the couch, Rhett's just grinning like a damn fool, "Dave's a real cowboy now."

You wonder how he's going to react when he comes home tomorrow and sees that the robot mop has arrived in the mail.

This entire warmup was inspired by a TikTok.

[atvrvxia]

&. open to females and non-binary

premise: rhett is the reincarnation of morgana le fay from the arthurian legends. he’s a trust fund baby and socialite, who is sort of a black sheep compared to his older half brother, who is the heir to their father’s wealth and business empire. given his sibling rivalry with his brother, he’s always too happy and eager to make things complicated for axel. your muse can be his brother’s best friend, his brother’s ex, or even someone his brother might be interested in. 

                           “IF YOU’RE here to tell me what an idiot my brother was being... you don’t have to tell me,” rhett chuckled, plopping down beside them. he knew better than to ask what exactly axel did this time. but knowing how arrogant and prattish the older man could be, rhett’s sure there’s plenty of things that axel might have said or done that might have made the other upset with him. he takes a swig from the bottle of beer he has in his hand, before setting it down on the table in front of him. he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, before a mischievous smirk formed on his lips. “what do you say if you and i do something to get back at him for being an idiot?” he suggested, a glint in his eyes. “we could fake date, you know? it’d piss him off; rightfully so because he’s been pissing me off... and you, of course. so; what’d you say? you in?” 

[l0verodeo]

#muses.

hommes.

asher  campbell,  24-28,  nepo  baby,  jacob  elordi,  dominant,  bisexual,  son  of  a  famous  director,  grew  up  priviledged  and  not  used  to  hearing  the  word  no,  can  be  very  dark  and  possessive  but  charming  when  needed. theo  gordon,  40-44,  college  professor/football  coach,  chris  evans,  dominant,  bisexual,  competitive  in  any  aspect  of  his  life,  dominates  his  partners,  good  at  ignoring  his  guilty  consience  even  if  he  shouldn't,  enjoys  sleeping  with  students. tanner  elbridge,  35-39,  business  man,  michael  b.  jordan,  dominant,  bisexual,  inherited  his  father's  company,  struggles  to  commit  but  won't  turn  down  a  one  night  stand,  easily  grows  possessive,  wants  to  marry  and  tame  a  woman  to  be  his  perfect  wife. bodhi  carver,  28-32,  trust  fund  baby/businessman,  drew  starkey,  dominant,  bisexual,  volatile  and  heavy  drug  user,  helps  his  father  hide  his  shady  business  dealings,  find  catharsis  in  dominating  her  partners,  psychotic  tendencies,  will  hurt  people  to  control  them. malakai  true,  45-49,  hotel  chain  owner,  alexander  skarsgard,  dominant,  bisexual,  rich  and  lonely,  seeks  companionship  through  sugar  babies,  has  a  tendency  to  fall  in  love  with  them,  but  tries  to  remain  professional. rowan  hawthorne,  38-42,  film  director,  henry  cavill,  dominant,  bisexual,  rich  and  powerful,  kinky  but  sane,  values  consent,  has  mommy  issues  but  he  would  never  admit  to  it. arlo  montego,  32-36,  chef,  callum  turner,  switch,  bisexual,  loving  and  kind,  dominant  in  bed  typically,  loving,  workaholic  so  may  accidentally  neglect  his  partner's,  voted  most  likely  to  sleep  with  his  little  sister's  best  friend. rhett  st.  avila,  55-59,  mafia  member/club  owner,  jeffrey  dean  morgan,  heterosexual,  involved  in  the  criminal  underworld  in  seedy  businesses,  maintains  a  professional  demeanour  so  no  one  suspects,  fiercely  possessive,  hot  but  dark. ryder  dunn,  29-33,  bodyguard,  chase  stokes,  dominant,  bisexual,  works  for  famous  people,  often  crosses  professional  boundaries,  deep  down  has  an  aching  desire  to  be  love,  protective,  sometimes  a  little  possessive  but  means  well,  grew  up  poor  and  fears  he'll  be  the  same  man  his  father  was,  fond  of  older  women.

femmes.

fable  wallace,  24-28,  kindergarten  teacher,  sydney  sweeney,  submissive,  bisexual,  soft  girl  with  a  big  heart,  abandoned  by  her  father  and  raised  by  her  alcoholic  mother,  daddy  issues  galore,  seeks  comfort  in  all  the  wrong  men,  keeps  making  mistakes  and  not  learning  from  them,  wants  to  be  cared  for,  needs  therapy  probably. novalyn  amero,  23-27,  exotic  dancer,  madison  bailey,  switch,  bisexual,  running  away  from  her  abusive  parents  who  would  do  anything  to  drag  her  back,  took  a  job  dancing  to  pay  the  bills,  enjoys  the  power  she  gets  from  dancing,  enjoys  feeling  seen,  vulnerable  and  trusting  because  she  feels  alone  at  the  end  of  the  night. evie  cabot,  21-24,  adult  film  actress,  kaia  gerber,  switch,  bisexual,  has  been  acting  in  adult  films  since  she  turned  nineteen,  also  has  an  only  fans,  recognizable  and  enjoys  when  people  know  who  she  is,  fun-loving  and  thrill  seeking,  hedonistic  always.  margo  alvarado,  21-24,  literature  student,  jenna  ortega,  submissive,  bisexual,  soft  and  studious,  puts  all  her  self  worth  into  her  grades,  perfectionist,  soft-spoken,  believes  in  love  and  wants  to  find  it,  a  little  naive,  a  virgin  but  would  never  admit  it. tatum  cole,  22-26,  actress/singer,  sabrina  carpenter,  submissive,  bisexual,  former  disney  star  who  is  branching  out  into  a  more  'adult'  career,  wants  to  break  free  of  the  good  little  girl  image  she  has,  doesn't  believe  in  love,  wants  to  feel  something  real,  has  sex  to  escape  from  the  pressure  she  feels  from  the  fame  industry. ava  mariano,  21-25,  nursing  student,  halle  bailey,  switch,  vanilla  baby  who  is  looking  to  experiement,  leans  towards  women  for  romantic  relationships,  wants  to  help  people  in  her  career,  wants  someone  who  will  love  her  and  support  her. park  somi,  26-30,  former  k-pop  star,  kim  bo  ra,  switch,  retired  from  her  career  following  a  scandal,  trying  to  reestablist  herself  as  a  singer  independently,  a  softie  with  a  good  heart  and  good  intentions. camilla  'cami'  rose,  24-28,  financial  associate,  madelyn  cline,  switch,  rich  girl  who  went  to  school  and  got  the  perfect  degree  to  work  for  her  father's  perfect  company,  craves  freedom  and  independence,  sheltered  and  a  little  innocent,  dreams  of  running  away  from  her  life  and  expectations. winter  mccrae,  21-24,  sex  worker,  tyla  seethal,  switch,  soft  girl.

[jungle-angel]

11. Fall baking

With Rhett Abbott

( its one of my favorite things to do! Baking is a huge part of my family especially things like apple /pear baked goods. Home made ice cream, meat pie, candied carrots and oatmeal products!)

BAAAAAABES!!!!! Ya had me at Rhett Abbott (lol)

Rhett was exhausted, even as he climbed over the paddock fence and back onto the grass. He wanted nothing more than to head up to the barn loft and go right to sleep in the hay, flopping right into it as he often did at night after the kids were all put to bed. Fall was always the hardest on the ranch and with it came more work to be done than during the summer.

It had been a hell of a morning. The kids had all been so excited since Halloween was right around the corner and they'd get to wear their costumes to school. The girls of course were no problem, but the boys? That was an entirely different story.

Tatum and Tanner had gotten really into watching Stranger Things on the weekends and both had wanted to go as Eddie for Halloween. You and Rhett saw absolutely no problem with this......until the rude awakening he had received that morning.

Usually Rhett got up about an hour after Royal did to go and help him with the cows, but Royal insisted that he try and get some sleep. Unfortunately, the two little ghouls had thought otherwise, both excited as ever to act out the part of Eddie Munson. Somehow they had gotten a hold of Rhett's old cassette player, hooked it up to the stereo system in the living room and proceeded to blast out "Master of Puppets", waking their father and you from your blissful sleep. Deep down Rhett was laughing, but still had given the boys an earful before you sent them and the girls off to school.

Back to the house he went, tired as hell, but surprised when the heavy smell of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves reached his nose. "Darlin' you in here?" he called.

"Yep!" you called back.

Rhett entered the kitchen and sure enough, there you were, scooping something from a metal bowl onto a cookie sheet. "Whatcha got?" he asked. "Smells good."

"Pumpkin cookies," you told him. "A friend of mine gave me this recipe a while back and the kids will probably be hankering for something when they get home."

"Thank God they won't be home till three-thirty," Rhett chuckled.

"I hate to tell you babe," you said. "But it's a half day today and a three day weekend."

"Oh fuck me!" Rhett groaned, running his hands over his face.

"Well, I'd like to but unfortunately these have to go right in the oven," you laughed.

"I might just call Wes and see if he can bring'em on over to their place over on the Res," Rhett mused. "I mean, both sets of kids run around like a pack of wild coyotes anyways."

"Whatever you wanna do," you told him.

"What can it hurt?" Rhett said to you. "I mean, they'll wander till sunset and if they come home with cuts and bruises, then we fix it."

You shook your head and smiled as you finished your work before Rhett gave Wes a call to let him know that the kids could get off at his place and stay until dinner.

"Here, lemme help you," he said.

"You sure?"

"I've got nothin better to do today," Rhett said, his crooked little grin beginning to show. "The kids will be with Wes and Nora until dinner and all the critters have been taken care of."

"Alright, if you insist," you told him.

You were pleasantly surprised by how quick he was with everything, grabbing whatever spices you needed from the cabinet and sticking the cookie sheets in the oven before taking the others out to cool. "You sure they're supposed to look like that?" he asked. "They only look half done."

"They're supposed to look like that Rhett," you laughed.

You and him spent the better part of that late morning and into the afternoon in that kitchen, the heavy smells of cinnamon, nutmeg and all the smells of fall hanging about in the kitchen. Once the last of it had gone into the oven, you and Rhett stood by, his arms around yours as you leaned against the counters and him half asleep as he rested his head against your shoulder.

Rhett's head shot right up when the timer went off on the oven. You laughed a little, tapping against his arms as he let you loose long enough to get the last tray of cookies out of the oven. "If you wanna go upstairs and take a nap," you told him. "We've got plenty of time before Wes brings the little miscreants back."

"I might," Rhett said. "Care to join?"

"I wouldn't mind at all," you said, setting the tray on top of the stove and shutting everything off.

Up you went with your husband, the two of you practically falling into your bed before you curled into each other. Though fall came with all its hard work and heavy toil, you and Rhett never failed to find a moment of peace with each other.

[themonotonysyndrome]

Hey, hope your doing okay I was wondering if you could write about Celica not being able to eat during her pregnancy again? I’m sorry but I just live for worried castin being ready to kill everyone that ever told his wife to eat poison

Hello, Anon! I'm okay. Thanks for checking up on me. My writing progress has been slowed down lately. My muse... where has she gone!? 😭

Lol, but seriously, let's take a crack at this and expand more on one of Celica and Castin's most challenging trials during the pregnancy arc - her lack of tastebuds and, consequently, her appetite due to the side effects of poison withdrawal.

-

Castin says nothing. To be precise, he doesn't know what to say exactly.

His wife, his darling beloved Celica, is playing a new game he dislikes from the get-go. This causes Rhett to rear back in surprise when he admits it during their hunting trip for the King, and literally everyone in Intacia has heard of how their strongest warrior is besotted with his Imperial wife.

So what change? Castin Hammer likes - no, loves - everything about Baroness Anesidora. He loves how her golden hair shimmers with the early light of dawn as she turns around to greet him good morning. He loves the quiet hums of her voice whenever she's lost in a good book. He loves her no-nonsense tolerance for bullshit, cutting straight to the meat of the matter even in the face of hardships. He loves how pliant and soft her body is to his touches, as if she's subconsciously known that she will always be safe with him.

Right now, though? Castin Hammer dislikes - no, hates - how obtuse Celica is deliberately playing just so she could pacify him.

Enough is enough.

"Celica." Castin begins sharply, and he hates how his wife grimaces at his tone, but he has to press on. He has to make her see reason. "You can't continue drinking that... that special tea of yours after our babies are born. I didn't say anything when you insisted it was tradition, even when it slowly killed you. Guess what? It's still killing you even when you're not taking it now."

The Baroness juts her chin up in defiance. There's a small dining table worth of space between them here in their bedroom. She felt too exhausted today to leave her personal sanctuary, so it's been transformed into a makeshift office and dining hall. "I'm fine."

Enough is enough.

Castin abruptly pushes his chair backward. He swipes his untouched bowl of chicken shorba, rounds the dining table, and places it gently, as if it were a newly hatched chick, in front of Celica. "Then finish it, baby." His voice is equally soft, but there's a hint of coldness behind it. This is the most furious he has been for his wife. He knows it. Celica knows it.

Celica's lips pressed into tight, thin lines. The broth smells divine. The shredded chicken meat looks soft to chew. It's the perfect dish for a pregnant woman. She picks up the spoon and scoops the broth to her lips...

And it tasted absolutely nothing. Her stomach, growing with hunger, now cries in dissatisfaction. It hurts, and she can only imagine -

"You can't, can't you?" Castin answers for both of them. Some of his anger (never at his wife. Never anger. Only sorrow) abates. Sighing, he pulls his chair nearby to sit beside Celica instead of across to her. "You know... if I'm not 5 seconds away from tearing my hair out in a panic, this would be hilarious. I've seen you down a hill of raw, marinated crabs all on your own like a competitive eater, baby. Now though? Now you can barely finish a soup because of your missing tastebuds!"

"Tastebuds or no. I will not jeopardise the health of our babies. I'll force myself to finish this." Celica resolutely says, eyes hard. She continues eating slowly. Ignoring how distressed her husband is.

"Like how Zeke forces you to eat fuck all back then?"

"Castin, we've been over this - "

"You're right, we did. We agreed to help you look for a therapist once the children are a bit older. But we didn't talk about your poison intake. So, let's start now. Let's take that cat out of the bag."

"Castin..."

"No, no. Food and conversation. You like those, right?" Castin stonewall his wife and snatches back the bowl of food so he can feed his wife. He grins painfully wide when Celica glares at him and opens her mouth. Castin waits until the bowl is almost empty to ask, "So who do I gotta beat up for making you think that grape flavour arsenic is appropriate for kids?"

"It was Belladonna. Not arsenic." Celica sneered, and for that, she found herself a mouth stuffed with soup.

Castin rolls his eyes despite the fact that everything in him is raging on behalf of his wife. He'd learned a thing or two about playing an actor from Celica over the years. "Of course, you'd go for the fancy flowers. Also, don't get sidetracked. Who, Celica?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

"Nah. Take it as your obsessed and highly protective husband wanting to unravel everything about you."

"Really? That's your excuse?"

"What can I say, babe? You made me into a lovesick puppy that may or may not need the muzzle after this. So?"

It's Celica's turn to sigh. "My first governess - Madam Bianca - took it up with Ezekiel. It was a day after my tenth birthday, and by customs, I was only enough to practice mithridatism. The rest is history."

"What!? No, not history! Babe, that's insane! And after your birthday, too!?"

"It is what it is, Castin - urk! Will... you... stop it!?" Celica chews and swallows furiously. She bats away Castin's hand before he can shove the last bit of the food into her mouth.

"You being all nonchalant like this freaks me out, you know? Are you finally full?"

Celica immediately rubs her tummy. The pregnancy swell is starting to show. "Yes, darling. I'm genuinely satiated for now. Please, believe me."

"Awesome!" Castin stands up once more and steals a startled kiss from his wife. Mm, chicken shorba with a faint taste of cherry; more things to love about Celica. "You want some ice-cream? Cake? Ice-cream cake? Lemme get you some, actually. You just sit tight and look pretty."

"...Why are you grabbing your sword? Castin? You're just going to the kitchen!"

"You'd never know if a rebel is gonna ambush me from the bathroom, Celly! Or if a certain head butler is in the hallway. It'll be nice to have a quick chat; man-to-man. Husband to his abusive father-in-law."

"CASTIN, NO!"