#the bleeding is monthly torture

[thevoidstaredback]

I am in a lot of pain and I am bleeding very much.

The two things do not correlate. Pain is mostly not caused by bleeding.

But! What if I do a shady hand off in a back alley? I give you all new content to read and you give me the ability to sleep tonight because I work a 15 hour shift tomorrow starting at 4am.

[earthtooz]

fluff!!! little mentions to bakugou's past as a bully :/ but he's now very much in love with you <3

the best way to let bakugou katsuki know that you’re mad at him is by refusing to hold his hand. 

handholding is one of bakugou’s all time favourite affections. although subtle, it’s grounding. he likes to know that you’re safe by holding you close to him, and he has the chance to pull you away from danger the moment it happens. also, to know that you trust him to keep you safe is another bonus.

he is destruction’s incarnate and it is from his hands that danger is initiated: hands that have threatened and bullied many- good and bad alike. 

hands that have also pushed you into a corner when you were younger for defending a vulnerable midoriya from any more harm. 

hands that have sparked explosions in your face during many school festivals as he sparked threats to match.

hands that gradually, but surely, learnt how to chase after you longingly.

after months- years of maturing and apologising for his stupidity, bakugou thinks he is the luckiest man in the world to be able to hold you with the same hands that sparked fear during his youth. he thinks he is the luckiest man in the world because you have trusted him to protect your heart in his very hands. similarly, you openly cherish his with your two palms and despite how it bleeds with love for you, you have never once let it break.

he also thinks he is unfortunate that you’re not compassionate enough to be against torturing him when he fucks up.

and the best way to show that you still have not forgiven him is by revoking his hand holding privileges.

bakugou hates it when there’s tension between you two and despises it even more when you have to pretend like nothing is wrong when in fact, everything is wrong. you’re mad at him for some shit he said last night and now you don’t want to hold his hand, let alone look at him, and he wants to crumble. 

instead of finding a chance to talk, you both had to hang out with sero, kaminari, kirishima and mina as part of your obligatory monthly meetup and it was very obvious that something was off between you and bakugou. 

when a merciless gust of wind hits, bakugou sees this as his moment to react. as goosebumps emerge on your exposed skin and you audibly shiver from the cold, it earns you a fair share of concerned looks.

“you okay, y/n?” kirishima asks and you nod, shrugging up your shoulders as a futile attempt to shield yourself from the frostbite. from the corner of your eye, your boyfriend is already shrugging off his jacket, keeping his sassy muttering to a minimum. 

“just cold, thanks for asking,” you murmur, extending your palm to anyone in the group, “can someone hold my hand?” 

bakugo immediately reaches for you, grumbling an ‘i’ll hold your hand’ but you retract from him with a dirty glare before he could even touch you. his jaw drops and his crimson eyes become windows to how betrayed he’s feeling, and even more so when you utter the next words:

“can someone else hold my hand?” 

“but i’m your boyfriend?” he all but screams, earning a few snickers from your friends. they knew this dance all too well, sero and denki hissing ‘roasted’ at the blond. 

mina’s the only one brave enough to challenge bakugou, “i’ll hold your hand, y/n!”

she’s almost successful too if it weren’t for small explosions stopping just in front of her face as bakugou glares at her with the ugliest (affectionately) expression you have ever seen. no one can resist laughing when he yells out a ‘touch y/n and you die, racoon eyes!’ before snatching your hand into his; his grip far too tight for you to even try and wrestle out of it.

“yeah, laugh all you want extras! at least i get to hold y/n’s hand, dipshits!” 

“y/n’s got two hands though, can i hold your other one?” denki asks, feigning ignorance to the daggers bakugou was sending him and before you could giggle out a ‘sure!’, bakugou is lunging forward and shielding you from the electric blond. 

“none of you are worthy, go away morons!”

your stomach is cramping at this point, your throat is begging for you to stop laughing, and your cheeks are so very sore that it hurts. your laughter has been mixed with the rest of the groups- with the exception of bakugou who is pouting with irritation laced deeply in his expression, but so long as he gets to see you smiling at him rather than frowning, he doesn’t really mind.

“whatever, laugh all you want,” he mutters before stuffing your hands into his pockets, where he can keep them warm. the remainder of the squad continues forward, knowing to leave you two alone.

his thumb is soothingly rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he shares his warmth with you. when bakugou katsuki meets your eyes, all the tension from last night dwindles away as he visibly relaxes, relieved that you’re at least allowing him to hold your hand again. 

“we are okay, right?” he asks tentatively.

you shrug playfully, “i mean, i don’t really have any other choice than to say yes, do i?” 

his next comment is quick, passive, but heavy in its meaning, “you do.”

you soften at his vulnerability, squeezing his hand before reassuring him that “we’re okay, katsuki, and we will be for a long time.”

hello hello everyone!! thank you for reading, if you enjoyed the fic PLEASEEEE reblog!!! even if you don’t think it’ll do much, reblogs is how tumblr accounts function. you don’t even have to leave a message bc i appreciate every single interaction nonetheless.

hope you like my writing and i hope to see you around!!

- earth

[ithebookhoarder]

It's completely fine if you don't do this but I loved your Colin one, so can you do how the other brothers would react if they found out you were pregnant??!?!?!?!

Unexpectedly Expecting (Anthony / Benedict Bridgerton x AFAB!reader):

A/N: Thank you for sending this in! I'm combining this with another request - I hope that's ok? 👇 As both were on a similar track, but I can always do more later on this because who doesn't love imagining the Bridgerton boys with little ones?! 🥰

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, references to doctors and medical professionals, pregnancy symptoms like nausea and morning sickness, mentions of trouble conceiving a child, sex references, swearing, blood (let me know if I missed any!).

Masterlist:

Anthony Bridgerton:

As Viscount Anthony would likely be expecting to have children and heirs of his own and yes, it would be a concern if you weren’t falling pregnant as a couple. However, I think it upsets him more than anything because of how upsetting it is for you. He loves you and seeing you beating yourself up and making yourself sick with worry is heartbreaking. 

He has so many siblings and they have children so the Bridgerton estate and line will continue, he soothes, hoping it would take some pressure off of yourself. If you fall pregnant then that would be a blessing, but you weren’t a failure. In fact, for all he knows, he could be the issue. It’s impossible to be certain either way and he would never let you take that on yourself. Any arguments you’d have would be about that and nothing else. 

“If you think I will sit here and allow you to abuse yourself in such a way then you are sorely mistaken, my love-“

“-You don’t understand, Anthony! This is my fault. Even if you do not agree. To society, to the rest of the world, the blame will lay solely on me! That’s all that matters!” 

“No! You are all that matters and I will not allow you to keep torturing yourself this way. We will stop, do you hear me? No more talk of heirs or blame or anything to do with the subject. Let us just enjoy our life as it is for now. The future is unimportant.” 

Violet would side with Anthony, as would all his siblings. They love you too and want you to be happy - even if Violet does offer some tips and insights on ways one could assist with falling pregnant, but only at your request.

Still, when you’re not with child months later you start to lose hope. 

It gets worse as more of the Bridgerton siblings start getting married and falling pregnant. They would never rub it in your face, but it doesn’t make it any less painful when you see them or their partners caressing their bumps or discussing what names they could choose.  

You’d wish them well, obviously, but inside you feel like you’re dying. Even Anthony holding you close and pressing a comforting kiss against your cheek does nothing to raise your spirits. 

With each passing day you become just a little more certain that you’re not destined to have a child… which is why you’re utterly stunned when you miss your monthly bleed - not once, but twice… 

You didn’t say anything at first, obviously worried that it was just delayed from your recent stress. However, when it happens again you start to dare to hope for the impossible and you’re all but racing to get a physician to confirm the diagnosis. 

As soon as you do, you’re racing straight back to your husband to share the good news. You don’t care if he is in a meeting, at his club, with his family or even in the middle of the street. You still sprint to his side and blurt the news for everyone to hear.

The tears are instantaneous, as is the cheer of delighted disbelief he gives, throwing his arms about you and spinning you around until you’re both dizzy. “This… this is the greatest blessing we could have received, my love. I’m so happy… we’re going to be parents? We’re having a child?… oh, lord. We’re having a child.”

This man has been acting as a father to his siblings for so long you have no problem imagining him taking to the role like a duck to water. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be scared out of his mind to think of the responsibility of raising a child of his own. 

You can expect this man to be badgering his mother with a never ending list of questions - heck, he’d even swallow his pride and ask Simon and Daphne for advice if it came to it. After all, ‘if Hastings can do it, it can’t be too difficult’.

You’re laughing too hard to even try and correct him.

This man would be so protective of you whilst you were pregnant - especially after the troubles you’ve had getting to this point. 

“I really think you ought to have a maid accompany you when you journey to and fro. I should hate for something to happen to you."

“Anthony, I’m only going for a walk around the garden!”

“But still-“

Anything you could possibly need he has already bought three of them. No expense is spared for you and your unborn child - including summoning doctors from their beds in the middle of the night if you even think something might be wrong with either you or the baby. 

Speaking of doctors, he would fight anybody who tried to banish him from your side when the time comes. He and his mother, should you wish her there, would be at your side the whole time. They would be your biggest cheerleaders and would do whatever they could to ensure you were cared for and supported, whether it be mopping your brow, holding you as you pace around, or advocating for you against any doctor who tries to violate your wishes about the birth. 

And when you are finally handed a crying, wrinkled, cherub with Anthony’s eyes… well, it’s all worth it. You have never felt a love as pure as this, except for when you met Anthony, and nothing can ruin such a perfect moment. 

Benedict Bridgerton:

Benedict would be so calm about possibly having children with you. If you do have children, then they will be loved and adored - obviously. But if you don’t? Then that doesn’t matter. It means you two can continue your adventures together for a while longer, travelling wherever your heart desires, visiting galleries and indulging in your bohemian lifestyle with all your friends.

You have your freedom - even more so now that you’re married. Society doesn’t care what you do now that you’re no longer on the marriage mart. It’s liberating, and any pressure to produce heirs comes from only you or your loved ones, so it’s non-existent.  

However, if you did want children then Benedict would be more than eager to help create them… and get creative about doing so. 

“Benedict! That is not how a child is conceived… no wonder you’re a student of the arts. The academy of science would never admit you with such a lack of understanding about basic anatomy!”

“You’re right, my dear, but you have to admit - this is a hell of a lot more fun.” 

He would be nothing but supportive of you and so gentle every time your monthly bleed approached, especially if nothing happens. He understands how your hopes rise and how hard it hits you when you realise it hasn’t yet worked. He’d never insult you or diminish your feelings. 

If anything, he would be quick to shoulder any possible blame, refusing to let you even begin to suggest that it has anything to do with you or your body. You are perfect. End of - and he’ll fight anyone who suggests otherwise. 

“You can’t rush things, angel. After all, the best things are worth the time and effort. Michelangelo took over four years to finish the Sistine Chapel, and Da Vinci sixteen years to paint the Mona Lisa. Some things are worth the wait… and if it doesn’t happen how we wish, then we’re already creating something so beautiful between us. Our family will be perfect, no matter how it looks, how it comes about, or even when it does.”

And when it does? Well, then you’ve never seen him look so happy, tears pouring from his eyes as you confirm the good news.

You also fear for a moment that he’s about to swoon, he goes so pale and he even starts to breath heavily as he paces back and forth, muttering ‘I… I’m going to be a father? A father? Me?’. His imposter syndrome would hit him with full force and it would take several weeks for him to process it enough to calm down and be excited rather than terrified. However, he’d never have been anything other than positive towards you. You know it’s his love for your unborn child that makes him panic about being a good father.  

Also, he would be SO supportive once you are expecting. He would be there holding your hair back if you felt nauseous and bringing you endless cups of tea without you even asking. 

He wouldn’t complain in the slightest about staying in with you, rather than going to whatever social events his family had organised. As he argued, it gave him ample time to finish whatever piece he was working on next and he got to keep you company in the meantime. 

I just feel he’d paint something for the baby, whether it be a piece to hang on the wall of the nursery, or the wall of the nursery itself. You’d find him stood in front of the nursery wall, covered in paint, but beaming ear to ear. 

“It’s beautiful, Benedict.”

“Well, our baby should be allowed to enjoy the full beauty of a spectrum of colours, rather than just ‘white’ on the walls - and the sooner they begin to understand the art of composition, the better in my opinion.”

You would also be receiving gifts from all your artistically minded friends, which is heart-warming. They’d crown them their newest ‘little liberal’ and would devote themselves to ensuring your off-spring would have a well-rounded eduction about the higher arts of life - something Benedict is keen to endorse.  

“When are they not ‘too young’ to have an art tutor?” 

“Maybe wait till they can hold a paint brush first, Benedict.” 

“What about poetry?”

“Again, I think they should probably learn the alphabet before we try them on Wordsworth or Donne.” 

Given what he says in his book I know he’d secretly want a girl but you know that as long as it’s happy and healthy then that would be enough. After all, it would be yours, made from your love in a living, breathing creation greater than any painting or sculpture. 

He would be awe struck when you hand them to him, afraid he might break them somehow. He would just sit and stare at them for hours, admiring them like the finest sculpture.

“I promise to be the best possible father you could ever want, my love. I will do whatever I can to protect you and make you, and your mother, feel cherished. I won’t let you down… even if you turn out like most of your Uncles and have no idea what the difference is between a sonata and a sonnet.”  

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built for Love Part 3 (MBJ x Black Famous OC)

Warnings: angst, emotional distress (there will be more explicit warnings on the next chapter and beyond!)

A/N: I don't know what to say here except this is 4k words of our favs in a mopey sad phase lol

“Anything else for me, T?” Charlotte asked her agent as they sat in her office and reviewed her schedule for the upcoming months. Charlotte was finally back home in LA after filming Creed and a guest spot on a tv show, and was looking forward to a couple months of quiet before the Creed press tour. If she could push that off further, she would.  

Her nails tapped lightly on her phone as she texted her brothers, the siblings coordinating their surprise visit for their dad’s birthday later that week. 

“Just the MGM Productions Gala in two weeks,” Tamika answered as she scrolled through her calendar. 

Charlotte wrinkled her nose in confusion. “What’s that?” 

She waved her head. “Nothing big. Just a gala and party MGM throws for their Q3 and 4 movies. All the actors, producers, and writers are invited. They’ll premiere the trailer for Creed so you’ll walk the carpet with Michael, takes some pictures and likely go on stage when the trailer is shown. Seating chart has you and Michael next to each other. Nothing special but should be an easy and fun night.” 

Charlotte’s heart fell into her stomach as she heard his name, a nauseating feeling consuming her. The gala sounded like torture. How could she spend an entire evening glued to his side when he likely hated her? Would he even want to speak to her? she would not want to speak to her if she were him and now, he would have no choice.

However, she knew those concerns could not make their way to her agent. So instead, she simply nodded. However, she could not stop the quiet question that fell off her tongue, her own desires to know if Michael had raised an issue about the event were too powerful. 

“H-Has Michael heard about this?” She coughed lightly. “You know, reviewed the seating chart and everything?” 

Tamika nodded slowly, her eyes slowly but surely taking in the anxious and concerned look on the young woman’s face. 

“Yea… been emailing with his guy all morning. He said Mike ok’ed everything. Why? What’s wrong?” At Charlotte’s silence and anxious fidgeting, Tamika sat up in her chair, her arms folded against the cool glass of her desk. “Anything happen between you two that I should know about? Something that could bite us in the ass later.” 

Charlotte immediately shook her head. “No, no of course not. We’re good.” 

She knew that was not the truth. Radio silence for months hardly equated to good. She had considered reaching out to him, her regret urging her to open their text thread and type out a message only for her guilt to cause her to delete it once more. A vicious cycle she had been stuck on for weeks after the wrap party. At first, she felt his absence like a gaping wound that would not heal. It ached and throbbed so persistently she could not dare forget it. 

But in true Charlotte fashion, she threw herself into her work and her next project. It was just two months but the late nights and early mornings of tv consumed her life and energy, leaving little to no time to pine after Michael. And so eventually, that wound seemed to heal. Until today. Today, she felt as if she was bleeding out again with nothing around to stop it. 

Tamika rolled her eyes before turning back to her computer. Charlotte could tell she did not believe her. However, she appreciated that she did not push her for an answer.

“Ok well… whatever’s not going on between you two, fix it before October. You’re gonna be spending a lot of time with him to promote the film and films sell better when the cast actually likes each other. Got it?” 

“Understood.”

****

Rambunctious laughter filled Michael’s basement as he and his boys gathered for their monthly poker game. Even though he always lost money, it was one of his favorite nights. Just a night when he wasn’t famous or an actor, he was just a guy unwinding with liquor, weed, and good conversation.

“Nigga… you’d think you’d be better at this shit by now,” Steelo called across the table to Michael who merely shook his head. 

“I know, I know. I’m tryin’. Ain’t my night, I guess.” 

“Nah you ain’t doing shit. This the worst you’ve played and you the worst poker player a nigga has ever seen. It’s embarrassin’,” his trainer and friend, Calliet, told him. “Somethin’s got you preoccupied. Tell us so we can get on with the night.” 

Michael scratched the back of his head. Was there anything he could say that did not make him look like a desperate love sick puppy to his boys? Because the only thing consuming his attention these days was one person he had not even spoken to or seen in months: Charlotte. He tried and tried to push her out of his mind by fucking his way through models and actresses, hoping someone would make him feel even an ounce of what he felt when he was by her side. But none of them held a torch to her. So he tried to avoid thinking about her at all costs, locking his emotions away in a cage for as long as possible. However, when he found out about their upcoming event, the bars on that cage had gotten more fragile with each passing day. 

“Anything to do with seeing Charlotte in a couple weeks?” His brother asked with a smirk on his face. 

Everyone around the table laughed at how Michael’s entire being shifted as soon as her name was mention. 

“Ahhh there we go. It’s a woman… it’s always a damn woman,” Calliet sighed deeply. “What happened?” 

Michael tossed his cards face down on the table, his hand rubbing his eye for a moment before he shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know? And that’s what’s tripping me up. One minute she seemed like she was all in a-and wanted to be with me. And the next, she pushed me away. Said she didn’t deserve me… whatever the hell that means.” Michael paused. “I dunno. It was fuckin’ weird. She seemed almost scared? Or like the idea of dating me had her in a panic.” 

He tried hard not to think about that night even though it often played in a loop in his head. It played so clearly in his mind like it was a movie. He could still see the tears in her eyes a-and the tension in her body, and hear the brokenness and panic in her voice. Despite his efforts to push it out of his mind, it persisted and he dissected and analyzed it ever since. 

Michael stood up and went to the bar in his basement, pouring himself another glass of scotch. He leaned over the back of his chair, watching the men continue to play. He knew there was no point in him continuing the game. That was just a recipe for him to make himself poorer while his friends got rich of his terrible poker game.

“Sounds like she’s playin’ you bro,” Michael’s brother chimed in. 

“Yep. And honestly, that shit sounds like too much baggage,” Steelo interjected. “You aint got time for that. She might be great but there’re plenty of women out here to fuck and date. No sense in being sad over one of ‘em.” 

The other men except for Calliet and Ryan chimed in with their agreement, though that did not surprise Michael. The rest of his friends were in the same place in life in terms of relationships: single and doing them. Their lives were all about the hustle, which meant love and relationships took a backseat. And he would admit, he was like them before he met Charlotte. However, she made him want more. And though there may be more fish in the sea, there was none like her. And he did not see a future as clearly with anyone else as he did with Charlotte. He knew that for certain. 

Calliet let out a low chuckle. “No wonder y’all niggas is single. “As the only married niggas here, you want our advice?” He gestured at he and Ryan. At Michael’s nods, he placed his cards down. “If you want her, you gotta fight for her. It seems to me like she’s scared - for whatever reason. Maybe you just be there for her and see if she comes around.” 

“You want him to wait around for some pussy?? Nahhhh,” his boy Tyrell threw his cards down in annoyance. “He can do better than that.” 

“Aye, watch yo fuckin’ mouth,” Michael’s tone cut the humorous vibe in the room immediately, his anger evident to everyone.  

Tyrell raising his hands in surrender as the other men snickered quietly. “My bad. No disrespect. I’m just sayin’ you got plenty of options, bro. She really worth chasin’ after?” 

“You told me day 1 she was your future wife, on screen and off. I got the texts to prove it,” Ryan waved his phone in his hand. “If you really believe that shit, then she’s someone worth chasin’. ’N I don’t know what’s holding her back but I watched y’all every day for months. She’s feelin’ you.” 

“Then why won’t she just say that shit?” Steelo argued. 

Michael just watched the men debate back and forth, his love life once again the subject of a riveting debate amongst his friends. He could not even get a word in.

“Who the fuck knows? But it doesn’t matter. She didn’t say that she doesn’t wanna fuck with you. She said she aint deserve you. That sounds like two very different things to me. Seems like somethin’ she’s gotta work through, not that she doesn’t want something with you. I ain’t sayin’ put your life on hold but you ain’t gotta close the door on it just yet if you ain’t ready. Just talk to her.” 

“I dunno,” Michael finally spoke up. “Hearing no once was more than enough for me. I never felt for a woman like I feel for her. And she just pushed me away.” 

“Look. I ain’t saying chase the girl. But you don't gotta close the door on it either just because your pride is bruised,”  Calliet added on, he and Ryan offering the sage advice Michael truly needed to navigate this situation. “At the very least, next time you talk, time as passed, you could get some clarity on why she wasn’t ready and if the feelings were mutual. Get some closure. But who knows, it might be a yes. And if she was worth the risk then and those feelings haven’t changed, she should still be worth it now. Then at least, you’ll have a definitive answer and you can stop being this mopey-ass nigga who I can’t stand. Moping around the gym n shit.” 

Michael bowed his head and laughed with the rest of the group. They were not wrong; he had been “mopey” since returning to LA from Creed but it had gotten significantly worse since he found out he would be seeing Charlotte earlier than expected.  

“Aight aight. I’ll think about it."

“My man!” The boys seated around him clapped him on the back. 

“Hit me up tomorrow, fellas," Stello called out across the table. "I'm taking bets on whether this nigga actually tries again." At Michael's surprised expression, Stello merely laughed. "Sorry man, I've never known you to chase after a woman or even give them a second chance. Relationships are the one area you play it safe." 

His words stuck with him as he slid back into his seat to continue playing. His streak of terrible luck continued as he milled over what his friends said. Steelo was not wrong, there was a part of him that wanted to write Charlotte off for pushing him away. But something stopped him every time he tried. He could not tell who was right: his married friends who told him to not give up or his friends who had known him his entire life. But he knew he only had a week to figure out what path he wanted to take. One certainly saved him potential heartache but it could also rob him of a love that was one of a kind. The other was a risk but a life with Charlotte was a pay off he could not pass up without thought. As Steelo pointed out, Michael took a lot of risks… just not with his heart.

***

“You sure you’re good, squirt?” Her dad asked as they chatted at dinner.

Charlotte glanced up from her plate, her entire family eyeing her with concerned looks. 

“Of course, of course,” she assured everyone, immediately fixing her frown into a half-hearted smile. She hoped it was big enough to draw attention away from her and onto someone else. 

“You sure? You’ve just been quiet all weekend.” 

She rubbed her eyes, annoyance settling in her as her family questioned her words. She understood why. There was once upon a time where she told lie after lie after lie to hide how she was doing. And now, if she seemed even a bit off, they did not believe her assurances that all was well even when it was. She would not believe her if she was them either though. 

“Just tired, dad. Two back-to-back projects has just been more exhausting than I thought. That’s all.” 

“Yea pops, you know how Charlie gets when she’s in the zone. All quiet and moody with all that method shit.” 

The table erupted in laughter, Charlie reaching over and gently hit her brother, Jackson, across his arm. While there was a significant age gap between her, the youngest, and her two eldest siblings, she and Jackson were only a year apart and had grown up virtually glued to each other’s hip. 

“Jack! Language!” Their dad chastised him, though there was no real bite in his bark. 

“Thank you, dad!” Charlotte, forever a daddy’s girl, threw her brother a smirk. “And method, yes! Moody, never!”

At her side glances her entire family shared with each other, her jaw slightly fell open in shock. 

“Seriously??” 

“In your defense,” her eldest brother, CJ, interjected. “I think it’s more so the characters you choose. Loners… moody…or depressed. And that just ain’t you, not when you’re yourself at least.” 

Charlotte could not particularly disagree with her brother’s assessment. It was not every character she had played since she became a professional actress. But she could not deny there was a theme across many of them. She had been drawn to characters who were alone in the world in some way: whether literally alone and without family or alone to contend with pain and struggles no one else knew about or could help with. They were all internally tortured by something. And well, that was a feeling Charlotte knew all too well. 

“So what’s next, movie star?” CJ asked her. 

She shrugged. “Ummm got a gala next week a-and then I’ll be back in LA for a while. Then we’ll have the Creed press tour and that’ll take up most of the fall.” At the mention of the movie, her thoughts drifted back to him. Though it did not take much these days for her thoughts to land her on his doorstep again. All roads led back to Michael. “B-but that’s it. Enough about me. We are here to celebrate dad.” She squeezed his hand, grateful to push the attention away from her and back to their father’s birthday. 

She barely heard the rest of the conversation that carried her family through dinner, only joining in when spoken to or to laugh along with the rest of the group. Her moodiness, as of late, had little to do with her characters and a lot to do with her impending dread at laying eyes on a certain actor again. She knew she would have to eventually but she thought she had more time to avoid him and her feelings about how they ended. That wound was reopened and all of her regret, shame, and pain flowed from it like blood. 

She knew she needed to let him go. She had given up her shot and she would need to find a way to live with that. But knowing she needed to move on and actually doing it was harder than it seemed.

However, it was her dad’s birthday and she knew her family worried about her too much so she tried to force herself to display the cheerful and upbeat disposition she knew her family was looking for. However, at the end of dinner, when she and her siblings and their spouses retreated to the basement, her facade started to fall.

“Open the windows, CJ,” Charlotte called over to him as he pulled a joint out of his bag and she grabbed liquor from their dad’s bar. “Dad’s gonna kill us if he smells weed.” 

“Us maybe,” Jackson mused. “But not his baby girl. He probably thinks you’ve never done drugs. His perfect little Charlie.” 

“Don’t be jealous,” she stuck her tongue out at him playfully. 

“She drew the genetic lottery… Youngest daughter? Best position to be in in the family. You got all us, except Tiffany,” he referenced the eldest Bennet sibling who could not attend their dad’s birthday weekend, “wrapped around your finger since birth.”  

She laughed and flopped onto the couch next to her best friend from college and sister in law, Lauren.  “What can I say,” she took the joint from her brother. “A gift and a curse.” 

Charlotte fell silent as she let the two couples guided the conversation. She rarely engaged, only laughing when necessary or moving to ensure the blunt made its rounds throughout the group. CJ and his husband, Allen, were both attorneys, which meant they tended to stir up lively debate amongst the group. Charlotte rarely engaged in their debates unless the topic was interesting. But Jackson and his wife, Lauren, while not attorneys, loved to go back and forth with them. 

So, she just let them fall into their usual banter while she tried to stop herself from falling into a sea of thoughts about Michael. All she could think about was what she was going to say and do when she saw him again. Should she apologize? Pretend like nothing happened and act like old friends? Take her cues from him? She had no idea. All of them sounded like equally terrible ideas and none of them were actually what she wanted to do, which was admit she fucked up and that she loved him. But that seemed like a terrible idea in its own twisted sort of way.

“Charlie!” Lauren shook her knee lightly to get her attention. Charlotte broke out of her quiet trance to turn to Jackson who had clearly been talking to her. 

“Now don’t hate me, C,” he started to say, causing Charlotte to immediately groan. She sat up a little straighter, her mind already ready to be annoyed with her older, meddling brother. 

“Oh no, what did you do??” 

“I may or may not have given your number to a guy at the office. AND,” he raised his voice to drown out Charlotte’s immediate protests, “Before you say no, it is one date, C. He is really cute, he’s a sports agent, really well established in the industry, and he’s sweet. Don’t fight me on this.” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes, frustration at her sibling’ meddling already boiling over. She immediately turned to Lauren, who raised her hands in surrender. “Did you know about this??” 

“I told him you weren’t gonna go for it.” 

“And yet… here he is… still presenting it.” She scoffed. “You need to listen to your wife more, big head. I don’t need a fucking matchmaker, Jay. I’m good and happy being single.”

She prayed her tone sounded decisive and sure; however, she knew it betrayed her by the skeptical looks on her family’s faces. She desperately wanted it to be true, desperately desired to be satisfied with the waves of loneliness she felt. She used to consider loneliness to be like an oasis. She felt protected and safe in its waters. It’s waves crashed but she welcomed it because loneliness was the only sure sign that no one was around to hurt her again. 

However, now, she felt as if she was drowning in it. Drowning in the frigid, dark waters, desperate for a lifeline and helping hand, someone to pull her out and hold her close. She tried to pull herself out of it, to find her way back to the oasis again, but each wave just pushed her right back down. And she knew one path to escape the waves altogether, but she could not force herself to do it. She was still not sure she was ready. 

“Well now we’re fuckin’ lyin’,” CJ muttered, causing Allen to gently hit him on the shoulder and tell him to hush. “What? She is lyin’.” 

“Alright, alright,” Lauren interrupted. “I think your brothers… and I, are just worried about you. It’s been two years. It’s great to be single and happy if you truly are. But I’ve known you for a minute, Charlotte. I don’t think you are. You don’t want to be alone forever, do you? What happens when the next guy shows interest? Are you just gonna push him and anyone else away forever? You fought like hell to leave so you could be happy. Pushing people and love away isn’t gonna make you happy.” 

Charlotte scoffed at herself, a wave of bitterness hitting her. She hated how Lauren was always right, a habit that incensed her since college. She was not wrong. That was all Charlotte knew how to do, push men who wanted her away, even when she wanted them back. 

“It’s all I know how to do,” she muttered, unable to hide that bitterness and anger at herself in her voice. 

She glanced up at the ceiling as she felt tears sting the back of her eyes. 

“Fuck!” She cried out. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered. She pressed her hands into her eyes to stop the tears from falling. Her family knew she hated to cry in front of people, hated when they saw her cry.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jackson moved from his perch across the room to sit on the other side of his sister, his arm wrapping tightly around her. “My bad, C. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want you to be happy.” 

“No, no. It’s not you o-or the date. I j-just hate this! Hate that I found someone amazing and I’m so fucked up, all I can do is push him away. And I t-thought it was for the right reasons but fuck, I am just miserable without him,” she cried out, finally voicing the feelings that plagued her for months. She had not meant to share that with her family or anyone. But in this heightened emotional state, she could not hold it in any longer. 

“Wait, you met someone??” Lauren’s eyes grew wide, an air of excitement settling over her. “Who was he??”

Charlotte’s eyes fell down to her cup. She was not ready to have this conversation. She had never told her friends or family about the feelings between she and Michael, or that she rejected him. She knew none of them would understand. She knew they would merely hear that she turned down THE Michael B. Jordan and think she was a lunatic. But she also knew she would not get an ounce of peace if she did not tell them now. The cat was most certainly out of the bag. 

“Michael…” 

“Wait - Michael B Jordan?? Wallace from the Wire??” 

“Your co-star, THE Michael B Jordan??” 

“Oh shit, y’all hooked up??” 

Charlotte let out a disgruntled groan as the room erupted in shock, exactly what she was trying to avoid.

“No, no. We didn’t hook up. But we got close during filming, spent a lot of time together. We kissed a-and at our wrap party, he told me he loved me. And I… fuck, it was like Shaun was right there, like I could still feel him and h-hear his voice reminding me that no one could ever love me.” Her head fell into her hands. “And I… couldn’t take it. So I pushed him away.” She wiped a stray tear from her face. “I dunno. Guess somethings never change. I’ll always be that girl he said I was.” 

“You always underestimating yourself, Charlotte.” Jackson shook his head. “You are a far cry from the woman who moved into my spot two years ago. That woman could barely fuckin’ look me or - shit - anyone in the eye. You didn’t get out of bed, you barely ate… for months, you were a shell of the woman we knew. And then you put in the work, you found you again. You’re healing and yea that shit takes time. But it’s progress. The Charlotte who was with Shaun and this Charlotte today are two different people. You gotta start celebrating every step forward.”  

“He’s right. And maybe this is the next step in your process. Finally taking a step back into the dating pool. You know the signs, you know what to look for now. You just have to trust your gut,” Allen offered her with an encouraging smile. 

“It’s not that easy, y’all. He… broke me,” her voice fell to a soft whisper. “And I just barely put the pieces back together. And Bakari is… perfect,” the word came out in a strangled sigh. “B-But if he… if he breaks me, I… just don’t think my heart can handle it again.” 

“Do you honestly believe Michael is like him?” 

She immediately shook her head. She would not claim to know Michael that well. But he was nothing like that Shaun, that much she knew. 

“I think he is the furthest thing from Shaun ever honestly. I just don’t think he’d ever do the things Shaun did.” And she truly believed that. Over a year in therapy taught her every sign she missed and when she meticulously examined her interactions with Michael, she did not see a single one with him. 

“OK then. He might hurt you, that’s true. He might break your heart. But that’s fucking life… that’s love. But if your gut is saying he isn’t Shaun then, at least, you can take the plunge knowing he won’t hurt you like that. He won’t break you.” 

“You gotta stop letting him win, Charlie.”

She shook her head. “He already won, Lo. Game’s been over. Probably what keeps him warm at night. Where ever he is, he knows he got what he wanted all the same.” 

“No.” Lauren answered defiantly, refusing to listen to her best friend’s defeatist attitude. “If the game was over, you’d be dead. That’s the endgame for him.” The tension in the room thickened as Lauren spoke, the words were harsh but Charlotte knew they were true. “And you aren’t. You’re here and you’re fucking killing it. Every day, you win by just living your life, being you and loving. Everything he took from you or said you couldn’t have and didn’t deserve? Those are his words, his lies. And every time you believe him over the people who actually love you,” she gestured to their little circle. “And what you know to be true about yourself, you give him power and he keeps taking pieces of you. Keep doing that and you’ll never be happy and you’ll never be free. Then he will win.” 

She glanced at Jackson who merely shrugged. “You and I both know she’s always right.” 

Charlotte let out a pitiful laugh. “I know and I fuckin’ hate it.” She sighed deeply. “I just… even if I deserved him, it’s too late. I have to see him next week a-and h-he probably never wants to talk to me again.” 

“That asshole stole so many good things from you, Charlie. And if there is anyone in this damn family who deserves a good thing, it’s you. If Michael is really what you want, then don’t let him take that too. When you see him next week, shoot your shot. See what happens.” 

“And if that nigga ain’t interested anymore… fuck him,” CJ called from across the room, everyone rolling their eyes at his bluntness but nodding in agreement.

“And you move on.” Lauren added more tactfully. She rubbed Charlotte’s knee gently. “But stop torturing yourself and all of us and just try, sis. Please.” 

Charlotte tearfully laughed, wiping her eyes. 

“I really hate you guys,” she whispered, tearfully laughing as she wiped her eyes. 

“We know.” 

Charlotte’s head gently fell onto her brother’s shoulder as he placed a quick kiss on the top of her head before transitioning the conversation to a lighter topic. She sighed to herself. 

Shoot your shot.

Sounded easy enough. But where Michael was concerned, Charlotte had only played the coward, too scared to face her true feelings and his. This would require her to play a role she had not in a long time, one that she feared she had forgotten entirely: someone who was fearless. While she did not know if she had it in her, her family did. And their faith and confidence in her was enough to overcome her self-doubt. When she saw Michael next weekend, she was going to choose happiness. She was going to choose him. 

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @msniaimani @hi888888sworld @lynaye1993 @destinio1 @cawi00

Read Part 4

A/N: Ok sorry for no scenes with Els/Bakari together this chapter but for my own sanity, I had to break it up into two chapters lol we will get our Els/Bakari reunion in chapter 4. We got a little bit more of Charlotte's backstory and got to meet her family who will be around… what do we think? How is "shooting her shot" gonna go? Is Michael gonna be receptive or are his feelings still too hurt from rejection? And do you think she actually follows through this time?

[pauking5]

Seeking comfort from an idiot

enishi yukishiro x fem reader

A/N: This is a quick wip on pair with the Addicting Taste lore but can be a standalone (if you squint). Here's a little comfort fic with my favorite idiot to soothe my monthly torture. Hope it helps yours a little too. Enjoy!

Part 2 😉

"Let me get this straight."

"Yes, Enishi," you say exasperated, a hand held to your forehead.

You were sat on the couch in his office, explaining the suffering ovary owners go through every month to him. He seemed utterly confused at every new piece of information you were telling him. He made a great effort in understanding your current predicament, despite asking the stupidest questions known to mankind.

"You just randomly bleed out every month?"

"Yes," you sighed a little annoyed.

"Willingly?"

"Oh my god, you're an idiot."

"What do you mean I'm an idiot? It's not my fault I don't know anything about these things."

The migraine brewing in your head was mostly because of your period, partly due to his stupid questions. There was no way this man was raised by a woman.

"I just explained it to you!" you yelled as he lifted his hands up in surrender.

You felt a wave of discomfort slowly crawl up your abdomen and sunk back into the couch hoping to alleviate it. The stiff cushions did little to help, making you more uncomfortable than they should have. Everything was making you sensitive and the only thing that would help was your bed.

"Enishi?" you called his name in a tiny voice only to get a hum in response.

"Bed," you say, making grabby hands at him. The simple word should have been enough of a hint about what you wanted but his brain didn't seem to catch the obvious.

"What about the bed?" he asked earning a groan from you. Your hormones were getting the best of you as you struggled to keep the murderous intentions inside.

"I want to go to bed," you say through gritted teeth as you repeated the grabby hands, adding a smile at the end. If you didn't hit the bed soon your insides would turn into a torture chamber.

"Then go-"

"You idiot, CAN YOU PLEASE TAKE ME TO BED-" you yelled but stopped as a big cramp wrecked your middle, making you crumple into a ball on the couch. You shut your eyes tight and gripped your abdomen trying to ride out the waves of pain.

He mumbled a few curses under his breath as he moved to your spot. Sliding his strong arms under your legs and securing your back, he lifted you up carefully trying to not make your pain worse.

He made a move towards your room as you leaned your head on his shoulder, curling yourself into him as much as you could. He felt weirdly warm today, a comforting heat radiating off his body. The sweet relief was short lived as another wave of cramps wrecked your body making you whine.

You hated feeling this helpless every single month, unable to do anything about it, except suffer in silence until the pain would subside by itself. Showing your weakness to Enishi of all people made you feel even shittier about yourself. He was the kind of person to brave through an injury no matter how painful it felt, so it was normal to feel a little mad about it as you asked him to carry you to your room.

He gently let you down on the bed and you turned on your side, gripping his hand as you sat him on the edge next to you. The pain was only getting worse and you needed immediate relief before you would pass out, freaking out a clueless Enishi even more.

"What can I do to help?"

"Nothing," you choked as a violent cramp was trying to dismantle your uterus.

He racked his brain for a solution until he settled on a forgotten memory of his sister. He was wandering aimlessly around the woods until he stumbled and fell, scraping his knee on a rock. As Tomoe patched him up, he recalled her saying something about warmth being the cure for almost all pain.

He wasn't sure if she meant it rhetorically or if it was actually a remedy he could use. Hell, he would try anything to put you out of your misery right now even if it sounded like a fable.

Doubtful if it would work, he took to rubbing your lower back in slow circles to create some warmth, waiting for your reaction. The action relieved some of your pain and you sighed in content, giving Enishi the confirmation that he was doing something useful. The more heat his palm generated, the more your cramps were decreasing in intensity. Maybe he wasn't that useless when it came to comfort as you thought.

The consistent rhythm of his hand lulled you and you were fast asleep before you knew it. Enishi smiled softly at your pouty face, puffing up against the pillow as a few light snores escaped you. He brushed a few stray hairs away from your face and hooked them up behind your ear. Grabbing a hold of your blanket he draped it over you so you would stay warm.

He wished he could do more for you. Seeing you in this much pain was driving him mad. He couldn't believe the fact that you were going through this every month. It made him admire your strength even more than he already did. He was sure as hell that if he was the one bleeding out every month he wouldn't be able to handle it.

A battle wound could heal within a few days. But this was a constant pain lasting for more than a few days, making normal everyday tasks become a struggle. No one should go through this kind of pain, especially you.

You whimpered in your sleep as his hand stopped rubbing your back. He chuckled as he turned back to his job, a small smile pulling at your lips in your sleep. You wriggled closer to him seeking the warmth of his hand rather than the blanket.

It seemed so easy to comfort you without doing too much but just being there for you. He was willing to do anything to help you during this time, no matter what you asked of him. If rubbing your back was what you needed he would gladly comply with it for as long as you needed him to.

Thank you for reading! As always, comments, notes and reblogs are welcome :)

[vpalmersfootballgloves]

yellowjackets 206 thoughts

no one hears anyone crying but y'all will hear these spoilers if you don't scroll past. spoilers below

SOPHIE NELISSE EMMY TONY OSCAR GRAMMY NOBEL PEACE PRIZE PREMIER LEAGUE TITLE PULITZER PRIZE BRAVERY MEDAL CAMPAIGN

precrash!taivan with their desks together during sex ed and tagteaming randy. this was the last time i was seen happy and carefree.

VAN EATING A LOLLY MIDDAY WHILE REARRANGING VHS TAPES, VAN'S SCREAM POSTER, VAN NOT ADMITTING TAI ACTUALLY KISSED HER, VAN STOPPING FOR COFFEE FOR TAI, VAN'S PESSIMISTIC OUTLOOK ON LOVE AND LIFE, VAN ON BUMBLE, VAN'S SNARKY CULT COMMENTS, VAN EATING HER OWN WORDS UPON SEEING HER EX-GOD, LOTTIE MATTHEWS.

"youre married taissa, there's no us anymore" honestly simone is probably already done filing the papers dw honey we're good.

i know some will take tai minding into van's broke and bitchless business as a whole pot calling kettle black situation etc, BUT i'm arguing that she cares about her loved ones (nat, van) so much that she's willing to ignore the shitload of problems on her own plate to help out where she can

the dream birth sequence was so creepy from the start til end. personally, i think its either shauna placenta previaed and postpartum hemorrhaged into her obligatory near death dream/hallucination sequence. OR she just passed out and the dream was a manifestation of all her insecurities, worries and grief.

tai is seriously shauna's RIDE AND DIE. shoving the van's deer bone into her hand and giving her the Lottie special. tai LOVES shauna SO HARD.

travis you have 5 litres of blood to donate with no monthly bleeds and yet you only gave the gods THREE DROPS????? lottie dont lie to him we can BARELY see his sacrifice.

still better than ben i guess. dude just dipped and went to his mind palace

"i love you so much" "it's you and me kid" shauna i dont need a reminder of my mommy issues rn

lottie turning shauna's son into a communal baby like wdym OUR???!?!?!!?

natalie :C she has so much survivor's guilt and remorse that she genuinely believes she's an irredeemable, irreparable Very Very Bad person incapable to be loved because everything she touches hurts one way or another.

lisa and 14th gilly will remind natalie she is so capable of love and to be love. TRUST.

misty praising natalie among lottie's acolytes. she's rooting for natalie so hard. its adorable how much she loves natalie in all the weirdest ways

simone kessell you are a STAR. the lottie-psychiatrist scene MOVED MOUNTAINS

speaking of psychiatrist, that woman is not your psychiatrist. she is switching your meds, egging you on and praying on your downfall.

"what is... IT?" BITTTCH STAY AWAY FROM LOTTIE!!!

teen shauna's sincere, pure and unadulterated love thesis for her son versus adult shauna's nonchalantly saying why didn't callie have sex WITH A FUCKING GROWN ASS MAN PREDATOR to nullify the evidence... the wilderness really did a number on her huh

thank fuck some maternal instincts kicked in during the pornstache interrogation

day 8349 of pornstache saracusa not being dead or tortured. its honestly upsetting

nat staring at van during the milf avengers line up bc nat's just shocked to see van in the flesh ever since these two childhood bestfriends lost contact postrescue.

[candywife333]

Unexpected (A Tale of Grief):  Part 3

Disclaimer: This story has yandere behavior, toxicity in loads, body shaming ,voyeurism, cursing/profanity, and questionable behavior. Also, the characters do not actually represent the personalities and behavior of BTS in real life. There is some dub-con in this part, so please be aware and do not read this if it is not to your tastes. 

Lately I had been feeling odd, like someone was watching me. You know when you get that feeling that someone is gazing at you, that every one of your moves are being watched and scrutinized. This particular disconcerting sentiment did not leave me nowadays. I started feeling like a prey, whose meandering and frolicking through the woods was being observed from the shadows by a predator: one whose inscrutable identity could not be gleaned by a cursory gaze of the surrounding vicinity. 

And to exacerbate these antsy feeling, my periods made the situation worse. Periods were always tough on me. I wish I could feel like other girls sometimes in that regard. My friends all had light periods that lasted 3-5 days. Mine was a nightmare of blood and pain that could only be alleviated by rest, hot pads, warm baths/ showers, and home-made savory foods. It lasted 7-9 days and every day would reveal unto me new tortures; whether it be bloating and aching breasts, or heavy bleeding with pelvic pain that radiated down my thighs and spine. 

Due to the uncomfortable nature of my monthly “blessings”, I preferred to stay in my room most of the time and ask my professors for a sick leave of 1-2 days during my periods since they allowed it. Our college had a strict attendance policy for the most part. However, certain electives and classes were completely online and so we had no reason to show up physically. 

After shrouding myself in a black ankle length skirt with a cozy forest green ruffled top tucked into it, I ventured out to the only real class I had for the day---Literature and Composition. Jungkook and his gang would attend, but since I never really had any interactions with any of them after the incident with Clara, I could comfortably just blend into the background of the classroom. 

As I sat down in my usual seat, I could feel all the blood rush to the bottom of my pad. As usual, the waterfall of blood was unavoidable during periods and I briefly checked my behind to make sure nothing was leaking. Thankfully I was spared of such a travesty. Just as I took out my notebook, class commenced. As the professor droned on about rhetorical devices, I noted down the few key words which were vital.

 Pleasantly occupied, I was startled out of my reverie when I noticed a hand, a rather vascular one which was settled on my knee. I almost yanked up my knee to the desk with a start. But I froze as I looked up to see dark fluffy hair framing dark doe eyes which sparkled with mischief, amusement, and a particular fervor---which I could not place. 

   I cleared my throat in horror, as I whispered to him, “Could you please let go of my knee? Do you need something from me? Perhaps something like a spare pen or sheet of paper?” He rolled his eyes and scoffed as he drawled out in a syrupy tone, “Why would you think I would talk to you just for supplies? A beautiful girl such as yourself deserves all my....undivided attention”. To my utter dismay and shock he continued kneading my knee, emitting warmth and a pressure foreign to anything I had felt in my life til now. 

        “Isn’t the pretty girl going to speak? Or is she mute, incapable of verbalizing what she needs?” I was almost frozen in place, unable to move his hand away as his hand crept up to encircle my upper thigh, now pinching and squeezing the available  flesh underneath his touch. I squeaked out timidly, “Ummm....Could you please let go of m-m-me? I am not feeling well and I would appreciate it if you could keep your hands off me”. 

         The squeezing and kneading became more intense as his hands made their way up to my hip and stomach. Since we were at the back of the class, nobody else could see what he was doing. His hand pulled out my tucked in shirt. Once he caught sight of the plush flesh of my stomach he continued kneading my pudge underneath the shirt. I hated when people touched my stomach. It made me so uncomfortable, but something about the way he gazed intensely at the flesh as he did so quelled my discomfort. It almost seemed like he was keeping his fascination with it at bay, though I could have been misinterpreting it. 

        “Why are you not feeling well? Is it a stomach ache? Or is it the fact that you can’t stand having the hots for someone you can’t have?” I gazed at him rather startled and confused as I requested him in a whisper once again,           “ Please take your hands off of me. I don’t want your attention. I’m sorry if I made you feel bad that day with Clara. But, she is my friend and my duty is to protect her from being taken advantage of in a vulnerable situation. I am sorry once again for interfering between her and you. I beg of you, please let me go.” 

           This time he seemed to heed my request, as he removed his big hand from my hip where it had rested idly. He smirked as a flicker of something devious flashed through his eyes. He sneered , “Of course, you had no right to interfere between I and your friend. But since you are apologizing so sweetly, why don’t you continue? Figure out what you are willing to pay in return for disrupting my evening with your friend.” 

          After a long silence, the class was at its end as he got up from his chair and said in a rather menacing tone, “What are you willing to pay for the grievous error you have committed ? You should know very well by now that prey like you should stay in its place. Since you have chosen to disrupt the natural order of how things work around here, you can pay up. It’s either going to be you or your friend, you decide.”

          I stuttered out in a panic, “What do you m-m-m-ean by that? Me or my friend to pay what? To do what exactly?” He tilted my chin up with his index finger, as he bit out in a condescending manner, “I don’t even know how you were admitted to this school with such lacking intelligence. I mean to say that  either you come to the next party we are hosting with the intention of either offering up your friend for me to do with as I will... or.....you can offer up yourself”. 

          The empty classroom felt even more intimidating as he leaned down to my chair and hissed, “You either get your friend drunk and wet for me to fuck, or you can come in her place instead. You can learn what happens when you mess with me.” His hand gripped my neck as he pressed his forehead with mine and breathed out, “Make your decision, and make it quick. You have till tomorrow evening”.

           He released my neck and walked away so fluidly that nobody would have guessed he had been in the room for that long at all. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I felt mind numbing fear. The terror gripped my brain in a headlock. How could I do that to my friend? I couldn’t send him to her when she couldn’t even consent. That went against all my morals. But, the alternative wasn’t any better. I didn't want to give myself to him, a spoiled rich boy who had no care for me. I wanted to give my virginity off to my husband. I might be old fashioned in this world, but I wanted to give it to the right person who made me feel treasured and safe.

          Not to someone who felt as though it was a right of his. Plus, I had the inkling that he was doing this to humiliate and demean me. He would probably make fun of my body during sex. I saw the vitriol in his gaze every time he stared at my body in disgust. He definitely touched me like he had before only to make me feel even more ashamed. My body had reacted unexpectedly though,  to my abject horror. My period had already flooded me wet down there, but my subconscious arousal had made it worse. My nipples had tingled and I felt a twist in my lower stomach as his hand had crept up closer to my upper thighs. 

          The worst part of this entire situation was my arousal mingled with my disgust towards him and the amplified hate I felt towards my own body. And I could tell that I would have to give myself to him. I couldn’t sacrifice my friend like that. But the sacrifice would have to be me and I would be in utter hell. If I didn't comply with him at all, he would make my life in this college miserable. Him and his friends had enough power to make my existence a living nightmare. 

      My anxiety was choking me, as I could feel my breaths getting shallower as I started sobbing. He didn’t even know I had my period right now. I didn't want to see the repulsion that would inhabit his face. Why did he even want me? At all? I wasn’t very beautiful and I would be a bloody mess down there on top of that. And I never had sex, so I never really felt the need to groom extensively down there.  

     Just as I was going to completely submerge in panic, an idea clicked in my head. Of course, he wouldn't want me. Now that I thought about it, he clearly did not visualize what I would actually look like. So, if I came to him on my period , not groomed, and sort of like a slob----he wouldn’t want me anyway with all his exacting standards of how a woman should look. Maybe he was curious about me. But I could manipulate this situation in my favor and make him so disgusted he would stay away from me permanently. 

       A little comforted by this tiny thought, I decided to go to him as I am. He would probably have me out the door in seconds.

Tag list:

@darkuni63

[rizzoto-whump]

@badthingshappenbingo - Trail of Blood, @whumpers-monthly - Nauseous, @week-of-whump - "You blood looks so pretty."

TW: Intimate whumper, injury, aftermath of torture

--

James sat on the ground, staring at the trail of blood that was seeping out of his open wound. It was a deep cut, and he knew it would take a while to heal. He felt nauseous and disgusted as he watched the crimson liquid ooze out of his skin. The sight of it made him feel nauseous, and he had to fight the urge to vomit.

As he tried to catch his breath, he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up to see Ronald, a smirk on his face. "Hey there, James," he said, looking down at the wound. "Your blood looks so pretty."

James glared at him, his anger bubbling up inside of him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he shouted. "Why would you do this to me?"

"I don't know," Ronald said. "I guess I just like to see you suffer."

James shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't understand why anyone would enjoy causing pain to others. "You're a monster," he said.

Ronald just laughed. "Maybe I am. But at least I'm not the one bleeding all over the place."

James felt his anger boiling over, and he stood up, his hand still pressed against his wound. "You think this is funny?" he shouted. "You think it's funny to hurt me?"

Ronald smirked. "I think it's hilarious," he said. "And I can't wait to do it again."

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I am so fed up.

I’ve had a headache for two days straight, I was already sore and tired from stuff I did, and my ankle came up lame on me. I’m having crazy powerful anxiety spells about my brother planning to show up sometime in the next week or so to judge if I’ve done enough. Still, I was going to take it easy for a few hours before I collapse.

Suddenly someone offered to loan me a mower, and I had to go get it right then. I couldn’t afford to turn it down, what with not being up for another two days of swing blade work right now.

Going to get it the pickup went into low fuel.

Then the car went into low fuel.

And I need to buy gas for the mower.

I had $40 to last me until June 7th.

Great.

I got as little gas as possible, and ran out. I was exhausted, melted, and my ankle bleeding, but damn it I was going to finish, so more gas.

And the mower wouldn’t start!

Okay, so I remember now that last year when I ran out using it it wouldn’t restart for days after refilling. Dunno why, but damn.

I spent half an hour trying to start it. I pulled a muscle pulling yanking at that damn starter cord.

I haven’t finish mowing. My friend’s mower isn’t starting, and I can’t return it like that. I’m hurting . My headache is keeping me from thinking, well except for worrying about all the things I’m going to get yelled at by my brother for not doing. I’m broke for weeks.

Then I get a letter from the bank. They are ending the refillable cards like I use. I got it because I didn’t get a debit card when I got this checking account**, and I couldn’t find a way to request one on their website. Replacements, yes, new ones, no.

They have ways if you are setting up a new checking account, and they even suggest I set up a second one….with a second set of fees ?!? No monthly fees if you “only” have $500 in it at the end of the month, but I NEVER have that much left!!!! And they expect you to deposit $100 a month, so I’d have to be moving money around just to tick boxes. I can’t open another checking account, and for complicated reasons closing the other one isn’t an option.

I search the bank’s site for anything I missed. I Google. The advice I see online must be outdated because it doesn’t match what I see on my screen. I get more frustrated and anxious.

My headache hammers at the back of my head. “Remember me? I’m the one that’s supposed to be torturing your head today!! Stop thinking about this!”

But I need some sort of debit card or something. I have to pay my phone bill and a bunch of other stuff I can’t use cash or a check for. And I need to sort this stuff out fast, before they end this one.

At this point it looks like I need to go physically to the bank and talk to a human. I have incredible anxiety about this, plus I will be burning gas on the 20mile round trip just when I don’t have money to buy more!

I’m trying to remember what it’s like to have someone hug me and be encouraging, but I can’t. I can’t even imagine a hug anymore! To be fair, I’ve been having trouble imagining anything anymore. I’ve even stopped sculpting most nights.

I’m just so tired. Broke, worried, and alone too. But mostly just so, so tired.

**Back then I had a credit card and assumed that I could always just write a check. I didn’t want some card linked directly to my bank account to worry about. Little did I know not only would I not have a credit card soon, I would discover may places either don’t take checks or charge you a fee if you do!

[bakedbakermom]

Sick to death of either being tortured by ads or the slow bleed of a monthly subscription. I said fuck it, uninstalled Spotify, and found this old friend in my glovebox. He's still kicking after 18 years.

[separatist-apologist]

Wonderland

Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds?

Summary: In a kingdom where a Maiden is forced to be sacrificed to appease the monster in the woods, Elain Archeron is chosen out of spite by her spurned suitor, Graysen. Trapped in a tower with her beast, Elain must unravel if she can truly trust the monster promising not to hurt. She doesn't know he's freed every maiden he's ever been sent...but her? Her, he intends to keep.

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | AO3

12k words

WARNING: MONSTER/ Breeding kink/blood.

Blood.

Lucien lifted his snout, inhaling the scent against the soft rumbling of rain and thunder around him. He and Elain were back in the tower for tonight and likely tomorrow, given the constant stream of early Autumn rain. Lucien wouldn’t fly her out in the wet even if it set him behind. He’d caught the scent of more humans when they returned the day before. Males, further out than before but likely watching. He hadn’t seen them and had, upon tucking Elain into bed that night, gone looking to see if they were camping out.

It seemed they’d come back the day he took her to the meadow, set up camp for the day, and left as night approached. They’d return when the rain stopped, too. Lucien was considering just packing her up entirely and leaving her in the unfinished house. It had a roof, it had doors, it was shelter enough. He could work faster if he didn’t have to make these constant trips.

Stretching his body, Lucien peered into the night, eyes scanning for the threat. The scent dulled the further from the tower he went, drawing his attention back inside. Elain was curled in bed, arms wrapped around a pillow, her hair splayed softly over her pretty face. Her cheeks were deliciously flushed, her breasts—hidden beneath another terrible shift—-rising and falling with a slow, steady rhythm. He stepped carefully into the tower, inhaling again. There it was. The coppery tang of blood was coming from her. The realization was enough to send him into a panic. Lucien shifted as he went to her, ripping the blankets back to look for the source of her injury. 

Blood stained her inner thighs, pooling just beneath her. Lucien’s heart sank. Not an injury, then, but just the monthly bleeding all females experienced. It was an absurd thing to mourn considering he had done nothing but touch and taste, and yet the sight of her courses filled him with an aching sort of sadness. How many would he see? She wanted children but did she want his?

Lucien brushed his fingers over her legs, drawing her from sleep. Elain blinked sleepily at him, her smile fading when she saw his fingers coated in her blood and his serious, somber face. She scrambled back, pulling at the sheet with her usual embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, all but running out of bed for whatever she needed to stop the bleeding.

“I thought you were injured,” he admitted, swallowing his feelings. She’d asked for slow. It was unfair to put his own desires on her shoulders. “You are not.”

“No,” she agreed, pulling apart strips of cloth. “You ah…go wash your hands, Lucien.” He did with regret, eyeing her as she washed herself up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, still reeking of blood. It was setting off his instinct to fight, to hide her away while he slaughtered everything around him. Lucien would have preferred the scent of her undiluted arousal to the blood. The urge to strip her naked and check her body for injuries was overwhelming, even when Elain went back to bed. She tried to coax him into laying beside her like he did in the meadow but Lucien slept too deeply when she was curled beside him. He didn’t want to risk the males finding them or realizing he had a two-legged form. He was better off with his nose in the wind, besides. It offered a reprieve from the scent of her courses while the rain lulled him back into an uneasy sleep. His dreams were punctuated by human males torturing his mate, coating her in that same sticky red and when Lucien woke he was restless and uncomfortable. Elain was already awake, cross-legged in the chair, a book in her lap and half an apple in her hand. The rain had let up for the moment though the ominous gray clouds overhead promised a temporary reprieve only. Lucien wanted to move her.

“Let’s go to the meadow,” he said, startling her. “Bring whatever you want, I’ll come back for the rest.”

Elain looked around. “Are we not coming back?”

“You’re not,” he agreed, his heart thumping in his chest. “I will bring your things and when it is empty again, I will destroy this place.”

She looked around with a strange sort of yearning but on this, Lucien would not budge. Autumn was upon them—there was too much that needed to be done and not enough time. The males were still coming around. It was only a matter of time before they realized he had not done as they wanted, that she was his female. He knew they’d rip Elain apart just as they’d done his mother and he’d be alone again. Perhaps he’d become bitter and hateful like his father, killing the humans to punish them for what he’d lost.

Whatever feelings she had attached to this tower would fade in time, he told himself. Her safety, her life—that was what mattered. 

“Pack what you want,” Lucien urged, watching as she rose slowly, looking around helplessly. “Just for the next few days while it rains.”

“Where will we sleep?”

“The blankets for the meadow are in the cottage,” he reminded her, wondering if he might put a latch on the door for the inside, as well at the outside. He felt feral, the coppery tang of blood making him wilder, almost angry. Why wasn’t she taking this seriously? She’d been the one who had been frightened and yet she was also the one standing there watching him as if he were mad. 

“Please.”

It was the magic word. Elain began moving, reaching for the dresses she wanted, folding quickly and neatly on the bed. Lucien added more blankets since Autumn had brought with it colder nights and the cottage wasn’t ready for a fire just yet. Elain took a few books, one of which was written in a language he’d nearly forgotten. Lucien snatched it from her hand, flipping open the pages. Where had she gotten this? Lucien had never seen it in his life. 

The inside pages were written in the common tongue and, to his amazement, was a history of his people. “Where did this come from?” he asked, noting her little pressed flower bookmark.

“It was among the stack of books,” she replied with a shrug. Lucien was so precise about the books he took, wanting them to appeal to her. He would have remembered this. It wasn’t from human hands—inhaling the spine drew up notes of bergamot and pine and the distinct smell of magic. Clutching the book, Lucien went to the balcony. He’d assumed for his entire life he was the last of his kind, the only one in existence. Someone was watching them. Someone like him, someone who had left Elain a gift without her knowing it. Without him scenting their presence. Fury outweighed his curiosity. Males, regardless of their species, could not be trusted. Not around his female, who was still too trusting, too soft, too vulnerable. Even if this male had left the book as a token of friendship, all Lucien could imagine was what he might have done. How he might have stolen her away and Lucien would never have known.

By the time they reached the meadow, the rain had begun in earnest again. Elain was trembling with cold, soaked to the bone. Blue lipped and pale faced, Lucien could do nothing but set her gently at the hearth before carefully shifting so he didn’t disturb her carefully wrapped things. He was still thinking about the book, about the males, about how many threats existed and how he was starting to fear no amount of planning could keep her safe. 

“Take off your clothes,” Lucien ordered, grateful when Elain immediately presented her back so he could undo the laces. She’d begun cutting some of the dresses to remove the laces, taking the pearls he’d found and fashioning little buttons in the front so she could dress herself. Lucien dreaded the day he was no longer asked to help, when he wouldn’t have such free reign to run his fingers up and down her spine. 

Leaving the blankets in the living room had been the best idea Lucien had. Elain, utterly and beautifully naked, didn’t protest when he all but shoved her shaking body beneath the soft warmth nor did she mind when he pressed himself behind her, calling his own magic up to warm his skin and heat the blankets around them. 

He needed to finish his cabinets if he was ever going to get a stove and sink in. He should have left her once her shivering stopped and her body relaxed. The problem was him, hand gliding over her stomach, reaching for her breast while Elain arched into his touch, tilting her head so he could run his nose over the delicate column of her neck.

“You shouldn’t,” she murmured when his hands dipped lower. He could still scent the blood mingled with her arousal.

“Why?” he asked gruffly, pressing a feather soft kiss against her shoulder, gliding his fingers over her thighs which were regrettably clamped tightly shut. He knew, before she ever twisted onto her back to look up at him, that she was going to tell him the biggest piece of human male nonsense he’d ever heard. Every time Elain got in her head or embarrassment won over instinct, it was the males doing. 

“It’s not clean,” she said earnestly, as if he just didn’t understand. He hated when she spoke to him like that. He didn’t understand, not because he was stupid, but because the made-up rules were absurd at best and controlling at worst. Had his own people been alive, Elain would have realized the problem was not him and his lack of understanding but her males and the absolute authority they wielded.

“It’s blood,” Lucien replied, nipping at her earlobe. “And I like blood.”

She wrinkled her nose. “But it comes from my…”

“Cunt,” he supplied, because Elain absolutely refused to use those terms. “Which I also like.”

Elain sighed, though from pleasure or annoyance, Lucien could not say. He tried to touch her again, well aware if he put his mouth on her she’d likely kick him in the face. Elain grabbed his wrist. “I’m serious. You shouldn’t touch me like that. Not now.”

“Because it’s unclean,” he repeated. His doubt snagged her attention. 

“Yes. It’s coming from my body—”

“That’s where blood should be,” Lucien agreed. 

“It’s not done—”

“It is a wonder your kind manages to reproduce at all,” Lucien commented, working hard to keep his irritation from his voice. “With all the rules. If my mate is unclean then so am I.” 

Her world was one of unequals but to Lucien, mates were an even match. Lucien let his hand punctuate his words, sliding through her slick cunt before she could explain in her patient, maddening way while males were actually better than females. Even the thought of the words made him angry, deflated his cock and made him want to track Graysen back down. Perhaps she’d allow Lucien to rip the male apart piece by piece as a mating gift. 

“Lucien,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut. She was still gripping his wrist though no longer pulling. Just touching. She was so repressed it took practically nothing to get her off. Lucien studied her, fingers stroking over her clit. Bringing his mouth to her cheek, he spoke so she could feel his words.

“This is right,” he whispered, a bolt of lust surging through him when she whimpered. “What could be more pure than the feel of your cunt clamped around my fingers?” He slid one into her body, exhaling at the feel of her. He had no experience with this outside of the theoretical. He couldn’t trust humans to scratch this itch, terrified they’d spread the rumor he was more than just a beast. There were none of his own females, either. Lucien had the education his father had given him and books which were almost written from the female perspective. Elain was tight, the walls of her body pressed silky soft and burning hot against his one finger. He could feel the phantom kiss against his cock.

Elain rolled her hips into his hand, letting him reach for her face with his other so he could tilt her face and kiss her. If Elain was somehow impure, was somehow tainted by this natural process then so was he. He didn’t want to be anything other than what she was, would have let her drag him to the bottom most pit of hell if only to keep them together. 

He wanted to fuck her with his cock instead of his hand. Telling himself this was necessary to prepare her in an effort to settle himself down, Lucien worked in a second finger while Elain writhed against him. She was so fucking wet, smelled of arousal and blood and jaszmine and honey and fuck fuck fuck Lucien had to bury his face in her neck to keep himself from falling apart. It was like the Gods knew what combination of things would drive him the most wild and poured them all in equal measure into Elain. 

“Lucien,” she keened, the walls of her cunt rolling as sweetly as her hips. She was going to come and Lucien knew she’d make a mess. He had to kiss her, grinding his hips into the blanket until it wasn’t enough. Elain went off around him, her strangled screams sweet against his tongue. Lucien rode her through it just long enough to see her boneless and pliant. Long enough for her to turn her head and watch him pull the bloodied hand from beneath the blanket and wrap it around his own cock. Her eyes went wide, lips parted while he pumped himself, coating himself until his own pleasure—which took him no time at all—came in a near violent spurt of release. Elain merely watched, her eyes lusty and dark before she sighed softly.

“Come on, Lucien,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

~*~

It was becoming apparent with each passing day that Lucien was not a man. Not the way she conceptualized one, at any rate. It was more than his lack of clothes or the rough way he went about things. Lucien had a two-legged form that, in some ways, gave him the appearance of being human. Even the gold could have been inked—there were men who did that, though they didn’t look half as luminous as he did. 

If he was anything, he was an animal. An animal that spoke and thought and laughed but one that could smell blood on the wind and was attracted to the smell. The same that could hear a predator approaching from miles away and who moved through the world thinking of how to keep himself safe. 

How to keep her safe. He was nearly finished with the cottage and had given Elain license to begin painting. She gave him a list of colors and Lucien merely returned with what she asked for. He was working on the bathing chamber, hauling up a tub and a sink without help. She heard him occasionally snarl and swear at whatever bothered him. Their home. The place she’d live with the monster that, by all rights, should have killed her. 

Said monster came strolling down the steps, dirt smudged over his handsome cheek. Monster or man, monster or man? What did it matter? Man or mate? She didn’t want the man if she couldn’t have her mate. Lucien halted in the living room, drinking in the butter yellow walls. “This is nice,” he said as though it surprised him. 

“Come see the kitchen,” she said, grateful to set her brush down for a moment and show him the work on the bottom level. Elain had been working overtime, sweeping and cleaning and dusting the mess Lucien had left behind. He noticed it, too, suddenly hyper aware of his stolen boots on her immaculate floor and his filthy hands touching the railing. She suppressed a smile, absurdly grateful for him. Housework for humans belonged to women and she’d gladly taken that on, certain he would expect it. Perhaps not, though. 

Perhaps this was more of a partnership than a more traditional marriage. Certainly, when Lucien drank in the green cabinets against the cream colored walls, his eyes lit up with pleasure. “You made it seem…bigger…somehow,” he murmured, standing among the tile. He was massive, his muscular frame sucking up nearly all the available space. Elain darted around him, grateful he was still shirtless, though he’d put on some leather vambraces to protect his arms. Still Lucien, with half his hair braided off his face and the flowers she’d woven in the day before a little crumpled but still pretty. 

“Don’t touch it,” she warned when his hand reached for one of the doors. “It’s not all the way dry.”

He nodded, withdrawing. “Tomorrow you will do the upstairs so I can bring up a bed,” he informed her. “I don’t want my mate on the floor.”

He said so every night, even the nights when it was dry enough to be outside. Elain rolled her eyes. “I like being on the floor. You’re turning me into a heathen.”

That amused him. “Are you speaking of my Lady Elain? My sweet, pure—”

“Okay, alright,” she interrupted, poking him in the stomach. “That’s enough of that.”

It wasn’t the reminder of what he’d done with her blood. That had been exciting in a way she wasn’t ready to fully think about. My Lady Elain. The words thrilled her, so casually possessive, his expression both amused and hungry all at once. If he’d been a human man—Elain stopped herself. He wasn’t a human man. Besides, Lucien courted far nicer than any man ever could have. She had jewelry and flowers and the little countryside life she’d always privately wanted. Without having to ask at all.

“Are you going to sleep in the bed with me?” Elain asked too shyly, unsure how to communicate that she’d like to be far more intimate than they already were. He’d smeared her monthly blood over his body while pleasuring himself and Elain hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. She wanted more of him…all of him. She certainly didn’t want him to sleep outdoors guarding her. Elain had never slept better in her life than she did on the nights Lucien held her against his body. 

Lucien’s body shifted and too late, Elain remembered he could smell her arousal. Eyebrows raised, he asked, “I’ll sleep wherever you tell me to.”

“I want you to sleep with me,” she murmured. He nodded jerkily, hands fisted at his sides so she could dart back into the archway that separated the living room and the kitchen. She hoped to put a little table between the two spaces so they weren’t eating directly in front of the fireplace. The kitchen was hardly big enough. 

“Do you have enough paint for upstairs?” he asked casually, following just behind. She wondered if he’d meant to build a nursery or if he’d merely used a different cottage layout and duplicated it entirely. Elain had no intention of mentioning this, just in case. 

“I do.”

Lucien smiled. “Good. I will leave you to it then.” 

And though Lucien swore he’d sleep where she told him to, Elain woke up alone. He was gone without word or warning, likely for whatever pieces he needed for the upstairs. He had left behind a few things in the kitchen—food, as always, and a few little flowers…and a strange leather bound book she’d never seen before. Elain flipped it open with fascination. It was more history. Not of humans but the Fae, of Lucien. She’d devoured the first book and its tales of glorious kings and queens, of mates with magic so potent they nearly destroyed the world. It was more fairytale than anything.

This, though…this was written as history by someone who had survived long enough to write it all down. Where had he found it? Elain hauled paint up the steps with one hand, the book in the other. It was her reward—every time she finished a wall she was allowed to devour a chapter. It was less focused on heroics…and more focused on the practical. On survival. As if whoever had written it knew they were scattered now and had lost knowledge they’d once had. There were warnings Lucien had clearly headed—don’t let the humans know we are anything but beast—and information from how to use magic without burning oneself out, how to track and hunt and hide…and, should whoever reading the book find one, how to accept a mating bond. Lucien had assumed it was just a given. Either she accepted or she didn’t. There was a ritual to it, some ancient magic according to the book. Elain nearly dripped paint on the pages to read, curiosity burning like hungry, angry fire. 

Food and sex. Lucien, who seemed to enjoy both, had been the one feeding her to exclusion. It was as if muscle memory knew there was something to the act of offering a mate something to eat without realizing it had to be her feeding him. The book claimed they would sink into a frenzy of sex which, from the descriptions, did not sound so bad. 

Elain might have stopped there, mildly embarrassed, her body coated in paint from her lack of attention, had it not been for an errant paragraph regarding human mates. An extra step, the book cautioned, was required. A binding of lives, one that would grant the human an unnaturally long life tied to their mate and one that would doom the Fae to death should they fail to keep their mate from harm.  One simple thing, so long as the Fae was certain they wanted this bond. A bite sharp enough to draw blood, in the vein that led to the heart, just after the female offered the male that meal of acceptance but before the frenzy truly began. The book had a multitude of filthy suggestions on how to make it pleasurable with the underlying assumption, at least to Elain, that the bite would hurt. It certainly took some of the fun out of imagining Lucien in a truly feral state. 

Elain stumbled down the steps well past noon to find Lucien outside, shirtless and sweaty and utterly stunning beneath the unseasonably warm autumn sun. He was hanging shutters, she realized. Lucien took one look at her, hammer in hand, before coming towards her, cupping her face and kissing her softly. “Have you eaten today?”

“That’s your first question?” she breathed, holding the book up between them. “Why didn’t you warn me about the mating bond?”

Lucien snatched up the book, his smile fading. “Where did you get this?”

“In the kitchen,” she replied, rising on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’m going to get in the water. Do you want to come with me?”

Lucien tore his eyes from the book with a wildness she only saw when he thought predators were lurking. He was very obviously torn. “Are you going to wear the awful shift?”

“Maybe you should take it off me,” Elain replied, shrieking when he dropped the book at his feet to chase after her. The hill leading into the meadow helped propel Elain forward before Lucien, by virtue of his long, powerful legs, caught her easily and slung her over his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” Elain demanded breathlessly, palms braced against Lucien shifting muscles to touch the ribbon of gold that wound over him. 

He dropped her gently to her feet, back facing his, so he could quickly undo her laces. “Undressing my mate,” he told her, his voice so at odds with his gentle hands. “So I can grope her under the guise of bathing.”

“There it is,” she murmured, utterly naked in the wide open just like Lucien had one say said she would. He was quicker with his own pants, half erect and utterly unabashed. Elain couldn’t pretend she didn’t like the way he looked at her, as if he were seeing her naked for the first time when it was, in fact, many, many times since that day in the bath. No matter how tired or gross or even bloody she was, Lucien was always watching with appreciation and lust and that undiluted desire that made her whole body light up with pleasure. 

“After you,” Elain murmured, half wished he’d just…have at her the way he so obviously wanted to. Against the dirt and grass where anyone might see. Lucien hesitated for only a moment, as if he knew what she wanted but didn’t believe it. Instead, he waded into the water, warming it for her own body.

And Elain was helpless to do anything but follow.

Pulled by whatever invisible strings he held.

~*~

“Are you warm?” Lucien asked, looking at Elain tucked into bed. She was merely a nose and a pair of eyes when he finished with her and her eyes—beautiful, wide and dark—-were gazing at him with open exasperation. 

“This is too much,” she chided, kicking them off her nearly bare body. Another shift he intended to peel her out of before she got too comfortable. “You are doing too much.” It was hardly anything he groused privately, pulling off two of the blankets while Elain wiggled her toes. He’d lit the fire in the bedroom for her, amused at her delight each time his hand caught fire. She reeked of arousal and tonight Lucien intended to have her exactly as he’d always wanted. The thought excited him to no end—Elain writhing beneath him, accepting his cock, his come and, he hoped privately, the first of many, many young. She wasn’t bleeding and though Lucien was certainly no expert on how humans reproduced, he didn’t think it was all that difficult. It seemed like babies were constantly being born to the females in the village nearby. Why not him and his mate, too? 

Which was why everything needed to be just right. He’d read the book—she needed to feed him and Lucien assumed, judging by the little block of cheese she’d been holding in her hands all evening, she intended to. Even then, as he folded the blankets and set them on the chair he’d taken from the tower, Elain fiddled with the parchment wrapper nervously. 

They had very little and yet Lucien was satisfied. He meant to chop wood for the upcoming winter and make do with their sparse furniture until spring returned. He hoped, given Elain had once been a very fine lady, it would not bother her so much at least for a time. She seemed happy enough, had even painted the nursery the dreamiest shade of lilac. Lucien couldn’t help but peek his head in every change he got. The room was empty and yet someday it might not be. He might open that door and find a little baby nestled in blankets, their soft face striped with gold the same as his. 

“Are you coming to bed?”

“Take that off,” Lucien demanded, nearly tripping out of his own pants. Fuck him, he thought wryly, kicking them across the room. She’d trained him too well. He hardly ever shredded them anymore, had even begun adding clothes to his wardrobe. Half to please her and half because it was useful not to slice open his foot on a nail while he was working. Delight pooled in his belly when Elain lifted her shift and tossed it to the side without any of her usual fear or embarrassment. Perhaps he was training her well, too. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, crawling up the bed to kiss her mouth. “My mate.”

Elain’s eyeroll did nothing to temper his lust. “Calm yourself.”

“I will not.”

“I have something for you, though,” she whispered, pushing that piece of cheese between them. It meant something more than just acceptable. Lucien knew how much Elain loved cheese, hoarding it so she didn’t have to share. If she was offering him this little piece, it meant something. Lucien panicked even as he took it from her, worried it might crumble to dust. He’d waited centuries for her, for this. She didn’t know what it meant to him to know he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Maybe we should wait,” he whispered. “Get you accustomed to—”

“No,” she interrupted firmly, eyes bright. “It will hurt the first time and I’d rather get all the hurting over at once.”

He didn’t like it. Loathing threatened to swallow him entirely, stealing some of his joy. His mate, her long hair unbound, body naked, as she prepared for pain instead of the pleasure he wanted to give her. Elain cupped his face, brushing her thumbs sweetly over his roughly stubbled cheeks. “It’s one hard night,” she murmured. “I want this. I want you.”

He all but shoved the food into his mouth, given to him by his mate. Elain watched, her head cocked as curls spilled down her front, all but hiding her breasts from view. “Do you feel different?” she asked. In truth, Lucien felt exactly the same. The realization filled him with relief. It meant he wouldn’t become a mindless animal fucking his mate regardless of her enjoyment. He shook his head, unable to deny her own disappointment. Elain wanted to feel something, proof of what he was saying. He knew she thought he’d just picked the first female he’d come across because he was lonely and touch starved. 

“Maybe kissing will help,” she murmured, leaning forward to brush her lips against his mouth.

“Kissing always helps,” Lucien agreed though that wasn’t what he really wanted to say. I love you. Do you love me? He didn’t know the answer to that question and despite her offering him food, he couldn’t quite say if she’d done it out of enduring love or because she thought she ought to. Kissing helped, just as he said. It soothed his fears, if nothing else. He could scent her arousal in the air, was pleased when she reached for his bare shoulders to pull him to the bed with her. He would make it enjoyable, at least before he penetrated her with his teeth and cock. She wanted to get it all over with but Lucien wanted to savor her, at least a little. Nothing tasted better than Elain’s mouth, her skin, her cunt. 

Elain squirmed, her legs falling open just like he’d once dreamed they might. Running her hands up and down his back, Lucien let himself luxuriate in the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to taste. She was so impossibly sweet, even with the lingering salt of her skin. Lucien groaned, ignoring his own twitching cock. He’d be buried within her before he knew it—he could wait a little longer. 

Lucien slid his tongue down the familiar path down her neck, sucking against the hollow until she arched, fingers digging against his bicep. Mate, mate, mate. The wind was chanting the word against his back, prickling his skin until Lucien could feel beads of sweat begin to roll between the blades of his shoulders. He was too hot and so was she, her nipples peaked and hard and utterly blazing when he tugged them with his teeth. Something was unfurling in his chest, a creature of old. It was magic he’d never experienced, propelling him to complete the rite.

He had to taste her. His slow exploration stopped abruptly so he could settle between her legs, opening her wide. Her swollen cunt gleamed pink with her arousal, the wet heat practically dripping down her thighs. Elain writhed and he wondered if she was feeling it too, this magic that was suddenly riding him hard.

Claim her!

Lucien licked instead. He’d be damned if she didn’t come at least once. She would enjoy this moment before he went for her neck and pumped venom into her veins. Moisture flooded over his face, her fingers tangling in his hair to keep him in place. As if he could budge with her soft thighs clamped around his ears. Elain rolled her hips, all but riding his face as he licked her clit desperately, hungry to feel her come on his tongue. She hadn’t finished and already Lucien wanted more, wanted her to climb on his face, wanted to let him fuck her with his teeth and lips and fingers and—

Elain’s scream sent Lucien flying over her, lapping at her neck without even thinking about what he was doing. Elain was still breaking apart, still riding the peak of her climax. Now, it has to be now– his cock was twitching, rubbing over her slick heat, teasing out that orgasm. Lucien opened his mouth mindlessly, barely thinking about anything except for his pretty mate begging for him, needing his touch, his come. Lucien bit, blood pouring into his mouth as Elain jerked beneath him. Her hands scrambled for his chest, shoving but it was too late. He’d already begun to pour venom into her body. It wouldn’t have mattered if he could have stopped—and he couldn’t—something had begun to stretch between them, knotting around his ribs until the tightness was nearly unbearable.

He had the vague awareness of Elain saying his name over and over though it just barely registered. Roaring filled his ears, his body near taut with lust. Finish this, the beast in his body demanded.

“Lucien,” Elain pleaded, shoving softly beneath him. “Lucien, it’s too much—”

Lucien lined his cock up with her soaking entrance, ignoring her writhing, wiggling hips and pushed. Elain screamed against the intrusion, going limp beneath him when he seated himself fully in her body with one powerful stroke. Get all the hurting over at once. 

Unable to offer anymore venom, and certain it was enough, Lucien withdrew his teeth while holding his cock utterly still in her body. She had her eyes squeezed shut tightly, tears leaking from the corners. He licked at the wound, slowly, over and over, as he tried to ignore the ache that begged him to move. She was so tight he imagined it had to hurt. Lucien was shifting through his fog, his fingers brushing her tears.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her skin, kissing her jaw. “Did I hurt you?”

“You didn’t mean to,” was her reply, eyes fluttering open. “You need to finish this.”

Lucien shifted, groaning softly at the friction, his mouth returning to her rapidly healing wound. “Do you feel it?” he asked softly, licking her skin over and over while he waited for permission to pump into her. “The bond?”

“I feel it,” she whispered with awe, stroking her fingers through his hair. “It’s a real thread.”

“My mate,” he said, returning to her mouth to kiss her slowly, reveling in the knowledge she could feel him, now. It wasn’t just him telling her she was his mate—it was her, too, realizing what he’d known from the first moment he saw her. “I am yours and you are mine.”

Elain lifted her hips beneath him, rolling slowly. She exhaled a breath. “I am yours and you are mine,” she repeated softly, the words spoken against his lips. Lucien pulled only a few inches out, swallowing her breathy gasp before pushing back in. He was dying, drowning in sweat and need, the taste of her blood and pussy burning in his mouth. 

“More,” Elain whispered, nails digging into his back. “Give me more, Lucien.”

Lucien thrust, groaning with pleasure when she somehow tightened further, squeezing her pretty wet cunt painfully tight. He wanted more, too, wanted to fill her with come over and over and over until a child took root. There was magic in the air and Lucien, as he pumped, was certain they could manage it this night. It drove him until it was near mad with need, his sac tight against his body as he clenched his own ass to keep from shooting before her. Elain was close, writhing and clawing and biting.

She went off like thunder, screaming and begging and sobbing nonsense, her face pressed into his chest. Elain sank her teeth into his skin, drawing a little blood of her own. It was enough to pull him over the edge, her cunt sucking him deeper as if it, too, wanted to see what they could make happen tonight. Lucien lost control of his rhythm, driven to push deeper, to fill his mate until she was coated in his scent and filled with his young. 

Lucien collapsed against her, keeping himself pushed to the hilt in an effort to prevent any come from spilling out. Elain panted, her face flushed and red, her neck blotchy from the bite. Lucien licked, likely not helpful though it soothed him a little. He used his hand to stroke her hair, reveling in the convulsions still rippling around his cock.

“We were right to do it this way,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “Waiting would have made it worse.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered gently, looking down at her beautiful face. “I lost myself.”

“I know,” she replied, capturing his lips with her own. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. It was over faster than I thought. And it’s done, now.”

Lucien nodded, biting his bottom lip.

I love you.

It’s done, now. 

~*~

Elain woke to strong arms around her aching body, stroking the place where she’d been bitten the night before. Even though she knew she ought to rest, the moment consciousness seeped through her, Elain wanted the owner of that hand, those arms. She twisted, pressing a kiss to his warm, hardened pectoral where soft brown flesh met that ribbon of gold. 

Lucien’s rumbling sigh and his cock—pressed against her stomach—told her he had been awake far longer than her. “Are you going to kiss me?” she asked when he didn’t move, russet eyes watching her carefully. 

“I’m not sure if I’m allowed,” he murmured, sweeping his hand back over his neck. “Though I want to.”

“Why wouldn’t you be allowed?” she asked, rising up on her elbows to look at him. Lucien nodded towards the hallway. 

“Go look in the mirror.”

“Do I look that bad?” she half-teased, her heart quickening at the softness in his eyes. 

“You look…” he trailed off, mouth gaping as if words failed ihm. Lucien tucked his copper hair behind his ears, gesturing for her to go and see for herself. While Elain disentangled herself from his hold and the blankets he’d clearly reheaped atop her while she slept, Lucien flicked fingers lazily at the fireplace, allowing for blooming warmth to flood the room. For a moment she thought it was still night, eyes adjusting to the sudden light. Against the far window, Elain realized it was merely another gloomy, wet day. The sort that would, if nothing else, convince Lucien to stay in bed with her far longer than he ought. 

Frenzy.

As Elain padded down the hall by herself, using her hand to guide her, she wondered if the throbbing between her legs wasn’t more magic. It wasn’t want. It was need. She almost abandoned his request entirely in favor of running back in and pouncing. She didn’t think he’d mind at all. 

“I can’t see!” Elain called when she pulled open the bathing room chamber door, revealing only more dark gloom. Lucien had let her hand a ruffly little curtain over the window when she’d noted how easy it would be for anyone to look in and watch her bathe. Lucien had quietly huffed, his face dark with irritation but had installed that rod for her all the same. 

She heard his feet on the wood, felt his radiating warmth before she ever felt his steady, broad hands ghost over her shoulders. Lucien ignited one hand carelessly, illuminating the room so she could peer into the rounded mirror over the sink basin. Elain gasped, fingers flying to her neck. Gold ribboned over her skin, wrapping up her neck from her clavicle to her jaw delicately, shimmering against the tan of her skin. Elain touched the ink just as she had once touched him, expecting to find hardened scales just as before. It was still just her skin, marked by the bond that tied them tightly together. Elain’s eyes shifted behind her, to Lucien who towered over her, his face so neutral, hands resting on her shoulders. He was ribboned head-to-toe in that orangish gold while hers was just around her neck. Easy enough to hide with a scarf, if she ever had to walk among the humans—it wasn’t on her face like it was his, at least. And yet…and yet she felt a strange mixture of pleasure and disappointment. Why wasn’t all of her marked like him? If he couldn’t hide, she didn’t want to, either. She’d been cast out, left for dead. Chained to a wall for sport, taunted by amused men who got gratification at the thoughts of Lucien’s potential cruelty. The chain wasn’t to keep her from escaping but to ensure Lucien could have done whatever horrible, depraved act they imagined with no resistance at all. 

The ribboning gold was proof of his kindness, of his softness. His tender care, wrapped lovingly over her skin. A promise far lovelier than any plain wedding band ever would have been. Elain brushed her fingers over it one last time, moisture pooling in her eyes.

“Don’t cry,” Lucien said quickly, squeezing the tops of her shoulders. “Perhaps we can undo it—”

“NO!” 

He startled at her tone, eyes going wide. “Don’t you dare touch it,” she added, turning to face him. Bare breasts brushed against his chest, drawing a shiver down her spine. “I love it.”

I love you, was what she meant to say. She didn’t know why she didn’t, even when his hand came to cup her face, his thumb sweeping over her cheek.

“It marks you as mine,” he murmured, his affection so plainly obvious. There was no danger to the words, no risk of rejection. Lucien wore his every emotion on his face, letting her read exactly what he thought.

“And what about you? What marks you?” she asked, eyes sweeping up his naked form. He was unchanged, every bit as lovely and masculine as he’d ever been. Lucien took her wrist, pressing her palm against the wild beat of his heart.

“This,” he whispered, eyes searching hers. Looking for proof she felt the same as him, Elain realized. “It has been waiting centuries for you.”

Elain opened her mouth to just tell him when Lucien, unaware of her internal battle, swept her up off her feet with shocking ease. “I was afraid you would be angry I marred your beauty.”

“You did no such thing,” Elain insisted hotly, trailing her fingers over the sparse hair on his chest. “I have never felt lovelier.”

Lucien’s swallow was audible. “I would not be hurt if you…I am sure you aren’t the first human who did not wish to be marked.”

Lucien set her back on the bed, kneeling at the edge of the mattress to look at her with wide, nervous eyes. Elain scooted, patting his side of the bed softly. “If we were courting,” she began, noting the way his expression immediately brightened, “And you decided you wanted to be with me for the rest of your life—”

“I have decided that,” Lucien interrupted quickly, sliding his powerful legs beneath the blanket.

“Right, of course. I just meant, if you were human.”

She ignored his exasperated sigh, the unspoken but I am not human that he might have said were he not hanging on her every word. He raised his brows, waiting for her to continue.

“Anyway,” she murmured, breathless by how he stared, by how close his mouth was to hers. “If ah…”

“If I were human—which I am not—and I wanted to spend eternity with you—which I do—I would…” he prompted, his voice dark and rich despite his amusement.

“Oh. You would give me a ring,” she finished lamely. “Usually a—”

“I have given you many rings,” he huffed, gesturing towards the closet where the things he’d brought her lay just out of sight behind a closed wooden door. 

“Not just any ring,” Elain breathed. “A golden band.”

He sucked in a breath, fingers reaching for her neck. “That is the custom, then?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Gold is precious and expensive. Men give it to their betrothed to mark their commitment. It is not something easily acquired, even for the wealthiest among them.”

Lucien blinked. “Oh. I wish I would have known it mattered. It does matter, doesn’t it?”

Elain nodded, biting her bottom lip. She twisted her hands in her lap nervously as Lucien plowed ahead, apparently determined to say what he needed to.

“I think I have been plain enough regarding my affection,” he began warily, watching her with that preternatural stillness that marked him as other. “I do not require a human courtship or marriage…not when we are bound by the bond of mates. But I do hope you consider the golden band that marks you to be similar to your ring—”

“I do,” she whispered, interrupting him softly. “I would have been happy if all of me had been marked, just as you are.”

Shallow, sharp breathing punctuated the silence between them. Not from her, but Lucien, whose hands gripped the blanket between them so tightly he’d begun to pull it off her still naked body. If she’d had his heightened senses, Elain was certain she would have heard his heart a near match for her own runaway, wild beat. 

Reaching between them, Elain squeezed his hand softly. “I am glad we are mates,” she added, wishing he could somehow feel the true magnitude of her gratitude. He didn’t know the dread she’d felt that day in the garden, her fear that one day she’d be trapped in a marriage with a scheming lord. Love was what she’d wanted, so sharply Elain would have waited her entire life for it. “I’m in love with you.”

Relief crumpled over his expression. “You do?”

She nodded without any of the anxiety she might have felt had she said that to a human man. Lucien’s feelings were plain and had been so long enough that Elain could have told him from the moment he first touched her beneath that starry sky in the meadow, assured he would have responded in kind. He’d merely been waiting on her, waiting centuries, and then a mere month. Had she been braver, Elain might have demanded he tell her when he first knew when Lucien said, “I love you, as well. Surely you must know?”

“I do,” she agreed instead. He would tell her in time, when things were less tense, when they were more settled in this new life. 

“I was uncertain…” his words trailed off, hand sliding to her face so his thumb could brush over her lips, parting them slightly. “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” Elain agreed. “I am glad to have been brought to you.”

Lucien blinked, his eyes suspiciously glassy. He merely nodded, lowering his face to hers. There would be time for all the things he wanted to say but now, his lips all but touching hers, she understood those words would have to wait.

“Good. Because I mean to have you again,” he whispered roughly. “And this time there will be no crying.”

She poked him roughly in the chest. “Don’t be mean.”

Lucien flipped her to her stomach before she could say another word, legs straddling her hips. “I think you like when I’m a little mean.”

And when his cock came to slide over her ass, Elain shivered in agreement.

Maybe she did.

If only a little.

~*~

Lucien had no disappointment regarding the frenzy or the two straight weeks he’d remained mostly in bed and mostly between Elain’s thighs. He’d occasionally forced himself out of the blankets so she could eat and bathe and stretch her aching limbs. He’d trotted after her, utterly besotted. A male in love was a strange thing. He was both pleased as punch to have her adoration and deeply unsettled that a creature as lovely and ethereal wanted him at all. The band of gold ribboning around her neck did little to help. Every time he saw it, Lucien was immediately bolted by lust and had to have her. 

But autumn was beginning to give way to winter, and there were things he needed to finish before he could truly settle in. He was hopeful a babe was already seeding in her body and though Lucien knew very little regarding a pregnant female, he knew she’d need warmth and food, at the bare minimum. 

Elain, too, needed to learn how to care for not just herself, but any possible young. Lucien had not forgotten his own childhood. He had his father, who was a skilled warrior and hunter, to protect him once his mother and brothers were gone. He’d taught Lucien everything worth knowing and Lucien needed to be certain that Elain would be cared for if anything ever happened to him.

It led them to the exact moment at the back of the cottage. Lucien was fully dressed—in more than just pants, but suspenders and a shirt, with boots and socks. The cold weather was unpleasant against his skin, especially on his bare feet and Lucien was willing to concede that clothes had some benefit now that he spent the majority of his time in his two-legged form. When he was a beast of scales and fire, the cold bothered him far less. Elain had tied her hair off her face in a pretty braid adorned with white and pink flowers—the same that were woven in his own half braid, courtesy of her loving fingers just that morning. 

The clothing was also a peace offering for the blade in Elain’s hand. She wrinkled her nose at the dead deer carcass sitting on a wooden table. “You want me to skin this?” she asked, her face a putrid shade of green.

“Yes,” he agreed. “You should know how it's done.”

She ought to know how to track and hunt, too but Lucien was not ready to send his mate into the woods alone, unprotected as she searched for dinner. He would merely keep their stores overflowing with food until he could relax a little. Perhaps when he was certain the humans were no longer searching for the pair of them. He’d gone back to the tower twice, catching their scent not just around the woodland but inside it, too. He’d left things as they ought to be—the bed, the chair, the tub—after removing all traces of life with Elain. Even her pretty dried flowers she’d hung against the wall were destroyed in favor of cutting his arm and splattering blood against the blanket and floor. Let them think what they want. He’d seen how they’d scraped at the blood, as if they needed proof she had been harmed, had taken her shredded dress, unaware he had torn it from her as an act of love instead of violence. 

Whatever they’d done with those things was none of his concern. Lucien meant to destroy the tower in the winter once the falling snow made the forest impassable. Let them know he would kill no more maidens for them. They would have to harm their females without his assistance. So long as they believed Elain dead and him gone, Lucien did not care what happened after. 

“Is it not enough that I’ll be the one to cook it?” Elain’s trembling words and her wobbling bottom lip drew Lucien from his thoughts. Her eyes threatened to spill tears as she gazed down at the deer and too late, Lucien had forgotten how soft his mate was. He walked to her, prying the knife from her hands with a soft sigh.

“You should know,” he murmured, kissing the top of her forehead. She seemed warmer than usual, embarrassed or upset, perhaps. “In case anything happens to me.”

Elain’s tears overflowed then, her body shaking. “Why would something happen to you?”

Lucien merely held her against him. “Your humans do not particularly care for me.”

“We’re so far away from them,” she reminded him, pressing her chin into his chest. He wished he shared her optimism, that he didn’t know the single-minded brutality they were capable of.

They would search, would come looking eventually. Maybe not for decades, centuries even. But eventually the tale of the beast who ate maidens would ignite in someone's mind and they would set out looking for glory. Would eventually stumble into Lucien’s peaceful life with his mate and attempt to destroy them all. 

It was tempting to preemptively destroy them before they could return the favor. “Will you watch me, at least?”

She didn’t want to. Elain’s face paled and how, he wondered, had he ended up with such a soft-hearted female? There was no bloodlust to her, nothing but kindness. He nearly sent her fleeing back to the house where he was certain she’d be waiting with flowers and kisses. It was tempting. Lucien shook his head, pulling his hair from his face with a leather strap around his wrist before he began gutting the animal. Elain pushed back a step, arms braced around her chest and too late for him to realize just how badly she did not want to help, she twisted to vomit in the dirt. 

His hands were already sticky and warm with blood, leaving him standing helplessly covered in animal entrails while Elain heaved up breakfast, tears dripping down her nose. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, feeling like the worst male in the entire world. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she gasped, holding her stomach as her body heaved again and again. “It’s just shocking, all that—” another heaving gasp punctuated her words. Elain gagged when the wind caught, blowing the scent of the beasts innards around them.

“Go inside,” he told her without anger. “I’ll finish.”

“I want to—” she threw up again, her body purging the lie from her system. “Okay. Maybe I’ll lay down for a little while.”

“A good plan,” he agreed, watching her stumble into the back of the cottage, her face sheet white and tinged soft green. He watched her go, the blue of her dress swishing about her legs just before she vanished. She was sweet, he decided. Perhaps it was a mistake to try and rob her of her softness. Lucien continued his work, warring with himself. He wanted to know she would be okay if anything ever happened to him. The gold banding around her neck would keep her from returning to the humans and his offspring were likely to inherit at least some of his magic. They would always be ostracized—othered. Without him, he wasn’t certain she could survive. 

But robbing Elain of her softness felt cruel. The wind seemed to whisper a reminder that mates were equally matched. If he could survive, certainly she could, too. Lucien decided he would focus on defense, on protection. He would make the valley utterly hospitable to any human that ever stumbled in, would carve tunnels and stairs and other paths for Elain to escape through while he laid waste to any foes that thought to harm her.

And he would ensure he followed just behind. They could settle higher in the mountains, could go somewhere only wings would take them. The Illryian Steppes were a mere days fly from the valley. It was colder than Lucien preferred and utterly impassable on foot or by horse, even in the Summer. Elain would hate it, given her love of gardening and all things warm and bright and yet he knew she’d go if it came between life and death.

He decided to broach the idea later that night, one he’d bathed the stench of blood and guts from his body. Elain was tucked beneath the blankets of their bed, a book propped up on her knees. Her coloring was better and he noted she was eating without being prompted, which pleased him more than he’d ever admit. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked her gently, sitting at the bottom of the bed to watch. 

“I’m sorry I lost breakfast,” she replied quickly, her eyes earnest. “I’m sure I’ll get used to living so roughly.”

He shook his head. “Leave the gutting to me. I am too preoccupied with my own death to consider anything else. I have done you a disservice, I think.”

“How so?” she questioned, scooting forward in the little white night dress she’d sworn to stop wearing to bed. 

“My own mother died when I was very young,” he reminded her. “And left me with only my father. His death—” Dare Lucien tell her the true manner as to Berons death? Love shone in her gaze and Lucien decided to wait. “His death was spared for later, given his own strength. Not that the humans didn’t try, but…” But Beron was far more powerful than Lucien suspected he was. He took a breath. “I worry one day it might be me who is brought down by their arrows and swords and you who is left alone.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “I don’t think—”

“I need to know you’re safe,” he interrupted quickly. “But I am going about it all wrong. I was thinking perhaps we would stay here for the time being, but I might scout us somewhere safer, if we ever needed it. Somewhere high in the mountains, where no one but I could get to.”

Elain digested that. “And if humans did come,” she began carefully, watching the way his body shifted beneath her gaze. “You would flee with me instead of fighting to the death?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I would destroy their path so they couldn’t follow after you, but I would not stay and fight.”

Beron would have called it cowardice but Beron was dead and Lucien was not. Perhaps if Beron cared more for his mate and less for human blood, his mother wouldn’t have died the way she had. At least mother had a winged form, had tried to protect them as best she could. 

“Okay,” she agreed softly. “I think that’s a fair enough compromise.”

It was an oath, then, in that moment. To ask her to give up everything and live among the clouds and snow, far from the grassy wonderland dotted with multi-colored life was like asking her to give up the very air she breathed and Lucien knew it. Perhaps, had his people survived and humans had remained part of their bloodline, Elain would have been a woodland nymph. He could imagine her, bathing in a stream with flowers in her hair. Lucien knew he would have chased after her, to the very ends of the earth if he’d had to, in order to sink himself into her sweetness. 

To agree not to fight, to truly defend his mate was to go against his own instincts. He extended his hand all the same, taking her smaller one into his palm so he could press a kiss to her skin. Survival would depend on remaining together, on keeping each other safe. He would have to remember that she might not survive without him when the urge to satiate his bloodlust overtook him.

Lucien brushed the piece of cheese in her hand. “Eat.”

Elain rolled her eyes but took another bite all the same. “I was thinking in the spring I might try my hand at vegetables. I’m starting to tire of all the cheese and bread, if you can believe it.” He couldn’t. 

~*~

Even the smell of the deer meat threatened Elain’s fragile stomach. Not that she’d dare tell Lucien that, who brought a new one every day to gut and skin before drying and preserving the excess. He spent his mornings chopping wood and his afternoons hunting and skinning and his nights between her legs. Elain did not know where his endless supply of stamina was coming from—she was constantly exhausted, just barely making it through the day. He’d brought her things for baking and Elain wasted her mornings making elaborate breads, often setting them with dried flowers and or whatever fruit or vegetables she had on hand. Lucien ventured less and less into the human villages as the weather turned colder, perhaps because it became harder to take what he needed without being spotted. 

Once she began her vegetable garden, Elain hoped he might not have to go at all. Perhaps they could buy a few cows and goats for cheese and milk making and truly sustain themselves. A few sheep for wool and chicken for eggs…she knew little about the finer points of farming and yet assumed it could not be that hard. She’d wait for the spring so Lucien could fashion a barn, at least, and so they didn’t deprive someone of their source of sustenance during the colder months.

The smell of warm blood wafted through the kitchen window, prompting Elain to grip the edge of the sink and breathe through her nose. She was close to abandoning her dough entirely and retreating upstairs but Lucien would make a terrible fuss if he thought her sick again. She could do this, she reminded herself. If Lucien could reach his hands into the deer…Elain’s stomach flipped and too late, she vomited into the sink.

The door pushed open. “Are you well?” Lucien’s voice demanded, bringing the stench with him.

“Come no closer,” she begged, noting she’d accidentally gotten sick in her hair. “The smell, it—” she threw up again, punctuating her point. 

“I didn’t realize it was still bothering you,” he murmured. “You can smell it from the kitchen?”

“The wind drags it in,” she explained, wiping her mouth and rinsing the sink. “I am learning to master it but some days are worse than others.”

“Go upstairs,” came his soft, authoritative voice. “I’ll wash my hands and warm a bath.”

Elain nodded, slipping past him while holding her breath. Lucien tracked her every movement, his handsome face rich with sympathy. She was a poor mate to him, she thought, if she couldn’t handle even a little blood. Lucien didn’t seem to mind, not when he returned smelling of nothing she could discern, all traces of animal scrubbed from his golden brown skin. 

“I’ll move further from the house,” he told her when she rose from the bed, her fingers deftly sliding the pearl buttons from their clasps. Lucien’s eyes bounced from her face to her slowly barred body, hunger warring with concern. 

“I would appreciate that,” she agreed. “Maybe we could find other things to eat beside deer?”

“I suspect any amount of killing would turn your stomach,” he said, following her into the bathing chamber. “My mate is soft-hearted.”

Elain stepped into the blessedly hot water with a sigh. “If you wanted a warrior—”

“I want you,” Lucien was quick to remind her, dropping to his knees to watch her in the tub. He rested an arm, clad in a white shirt rolled at the elbow, his face resting against the skin. His fingers skimmed the water, brushing over her knee. “Only you.”

“Well, you have me,” she murmured, reclining against the porcelain back, eyes closed as the heat enveloped her. “Soft heart and all.”

“Lucky me,” he sighed, his contentment as good as any kiss. 

“I’m sure by next autumn I will be used to the sight and smell of blood,” she added, peeking open one eye to watch him. She was trying to shed the trappings of her old life, of the lady who had never seen how her food made it to her plate. “This has all been an adjustment.”

“You are fine,” Lucien assured her, dipping his hand beneath the water to rub her inner thigh. Insatiable beast, was what he was. She didn’t dare move though it was an effort not to fully part her legs, to let him have unfettered access to her body. “You wear my scent well, Elain.”

“I do?” she questioned, turning her head to smell her shoulder.

“Since the mating bond snapped between us, your scent has shifted,” he whispered, words rough as he hand traveled further up her leg. “As has mine. We have become one…if another male were to scent you, he would recognize you were mated…he would not take you as his own.”

“Your males,” she asked, certain a human man wouldn’t notice such a thing. Lucien nodded. 

“Yes. Humans have such dulled instincts even if they did respect such things,” he murmured without his usual burning hatred, his fingers finally reaching between her legs for her already wanting core. “They’ll never be close enough to know your scent, regardless.” His addition made her heart tighten, if only a little. This was the life she’d chosen, she reminded herself. The life she wanted. Her people had sent her to die and yet…it was lonely to imagine she’d never see another one of them again. 

Lucien rubbed against her clit just as Elain asked, “How can you be certain you’re the last?”

His hand stilled. “What?”

“What makes you think you are the last of your kind?” she asked breathlessly, wishing she hadn’t asked at all. Not until he’d finished touching her, anyway. Hidden in the water, Lucien couldn’t scent the arousal that would have sent him spiraling. He cocked his head, his ponytailed hair draped over his broad shoulder like a silken scarf. 

“I would know,” he said finally, though there was uncertainty in his voice. 

“Perhaps more of you are hiding than you realize,” Elain pressed, thinking of the two books that had been left that Lucien could not account for, with a scent he’d said smelled suspiciously like magic. “Dotted throughout the land, trying their best to blend.”

Lucien considered this while Elain remained still, despite the persistent throbbing between her legs. 

“Perhaps,” he conceded. “And even if you’re right, I’m not sure I would want to find them.”

Territorial. 

That’s what Lucien said the males of his kind were. Territorial and likely guarded. If they’d found mates, Lucien might risk being torn to shreds simply for venturing too close, just as she knew he’d do if anyone came too close to her. He went back to rubbing, her breath fanning against her ear. Elain knew what came next even when he plunged his arms into the fading warmth of the water and hauled her out, unconcerned with how she dripped water all over the tile, the wood, the warm blankets of the bed. All he cared about was spreading her legs as widely as he could, kneeling in the puddle of water she’d created before he buried his face against her body, tongue lapping where his hand had once been. She’d learned in the two and a half months they’d been together, that Lucien liked nothing more than to eat between her legs. She suspected he liked it more than his own gratification though she’d never ask. 

“You taste…” he groaned, unable to finish his sentence as he pulled her closer. She wished, not for the first time, she had his senses so she knew what he was trying to say. She wanted to experience the world as he did, see through his eyes, smell through his nose. Taste as he did, to lick the salt of his skin and taste more than just the rudimentary masculine sweat she liked so much. 

Pleasure frazzled around her, zapping like lightning through her veins. Elain drew him closer, her heels digging in his back. Lucien was all too happy to oblige, his tongue sliding into her body in mimicry of how his cock so often pleasured her, curling sweetly before traveling up the length of her body to swirl over the swollen bundle of nerves. “Lucien,” she whispered, her warning she was about to break apart. He growled, a reminder that he was more animal than anything despite the clothes he wore.

There was no need to be quiet, which was just as well. Elain’s back arched, pushing her closer to his face the moment his lips sucked around her clit, tongue rubbing exactly right. He held tight, had to be all but pried off her when she came back down, too sensitive to withstand his constant ministrations.

The glistening wet of his lips was obscene, made all the filthier when he brought them to her own mouth so she could taste her arousal. Elain had a moment as she eagerly opened her mouth, letting his tongue sweep against her own, that her former self would have been scandalized by such behavior. No gentleman would have acted this way.

And Lucien was no gentleman, certainly.

Which was how she preferred him. Utterly, and totally wild.

~*~

More vomiting. No matter how far Lucien worked from the house, he still caught that sour stench the moment he walked into the house. He wondered if it wasn’t the mere knowledge he was working on an animal carcass that bothered her…though today Lucien had done none of that work at all. Their larder was utterly full. Any more risked spoiling what already existed and given how Elain had returned to picking at her food like a bird, Lucien thought they’d survive the winter relatively easily.

He found her in bed, eyes glazed as she stared at the dying fire. Her skin was far too pale, her eyes all but sunken in her head. He inhaled, catching a whiff of sickness against a scent he didn’t recognize. It was one he’d smelled on her before, more often in the last few days. He knew very little of humans but did understand how prone to illness they were. She couldn’t die, not with her life bound to his—it would take flame or steel to do that—but she could waste to nothing before his very eyes.

Lucien went to her, pressing his hand to her forehead. Warm, his mind screamed with worry. Her skin burned the way his often did, as if she were consumed with flame. “You have a fever,” he told her. Elain started, her cracked, chapped lips parting with surprise. “I didn’t know you were here. I must have dozed.”

Her eyes had been wide open. Fear sluiced through Lucien, settling like hot lead in his stomach. “How do humans treat fever?”

Elain let him push her against the pillows, kicking at the blankets he tried to drape over her. “With rest,” she said quietly. “And perhaps a cool rag.”

He could do that. Lucien found strips of linen she’d cut for her cycle mingled among the washrags in the bathroom. He dipped a soft cloth into cold water, inhaling the air roughly when he returned. Was she bleeding? Lucien had lost track of the time and yet detected no blood. It was just as well—how unfair to be struck with blood when you could just barely keep your eyes open.

Lucien pressed the cloth to her head. “Anything else?”

Elain all but growled when he tried to put the blanket back over her body, kicking him, without meaning to, hard in the stomach. He took that show of strength, however painful it was, as a good sign. She wasn’t so low she couldn’t harm him. 

“Water, I suppose,” Elain murmured, eyes hidden beneath the damp white cloth. “Fevers are sweat out.”

That fascinated him enough to collect a cup of water and set it on the bedside table just within reach. Not that she wanted it. Elain swatted at his hand when he tried to force a sip on her and swatted again when he laid beside her, intending to use the warmth of his body to draw out the fever via sweating. 

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered, rolling to her side. “I need air.”

Lucien had never felt more helpless. Her cheeks were flushed and she radiated that scent of sickness, whatever it was. It wasn’t right, wasn’t her usual jasmine and honey or his sundrenched citrus. It was something almost powdery, floral and spicy and it disturbed him by how pleasant it was. Illness ought to smell foul, diseased and wrong. He wanted to run his nose over her body, wanted to commit it to memory.

“Would you like to go outside?” he asked, wincing at the sound of soft pattering against the window panes. He didn’t want to see his mate catch a chill and yet he’d take her out beneath the porch if it cooled her a little.

“I want to come out of my skin,” she whispered, twisting her neck to face him, even if she couldn’t see him. “I feel…”

Lucien stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Rest,” he bossed, hoping she couldn’t sense his fear. Elain sighed softly, twisting again so she faced him.

“Will you hold me?” she asked. Lucien hesitated. She’d just told him not to touch her and some part of her words felt like a trap. Her bottom lip wobbled as the scent of salt flooded through the air.

“Don’t cry!” Lucien all but begged, dragging her against his uncomfortably clothed chest. “I always want to hold you.” Elain sniffed. “Okay.”

Lucien stroked her hair, thinking of the right words to say that might settle her, that would soothe her into sleep. She was so much better at explaining things, her words so sweet, so elegant. It didn’t matter. By the time Lucien had decided on telling her he loved her, Elain was softly drooling against his chest, her hand curled in against his shirt, forcing him to sleep in the blasted shirt. He didn’t dare move her or cover her lest he draw her wrath. Lucien dozed, too, that soft, sweet scent burning in his nose. 

He woke in the middle of the night to Elain disentangling herself from his grasp for the bathroom. She only needed to relieve herself instead of vomit though when she returned, she brought that scent with her stronger than before. Lucien propped himself up on his elbows sleepily. “Take off your dress,” he grumbled, kicking out of his pants. “I’m not sleeping in clothes and neither are you.”

She did as he asked, her eyes brighter than before. “I feel better,” she told him. She looked it—her cheeks were flushed, her skin glowing softly. “I’m hungry.” Lucien scrambled upwards, yanking off his shirt before practically running down the steps for something soft on her stomach, just in case. A little bread, a little milk, an apple he hastily chopped into pieces, and a banana he peeled without bothering to dispose of the peel in her little recycling bin. 

She was naked and beneath blankets, chugging water like she’d never tasted anything half as good before. He might have relaxed had it not been for that lingering scent. Elain accepted the bowl of his wares, eating all of it without complaint, munching happily while he all but crouched over her, watching her every bite. Waiting for that scent to abate, chased away by her good health. 

It only intensified, as if it fed off her. Her own sweet smell was all but chased away, driving Lucien insane. That scent called to him, begged him to shift into his beast-like form and guard her with his teeth and talons. Panic flooded over him even as she slipped down the mattress, lacing her hand through his. Lucien drew her knuckles against his lips, swallowing his fear. He’d take her to a human healer before he let her die, risking his own safety to ensure she survived. 

“Lay down with me,” she murmured, her skin too-warm to the touch. No sweat, like she’d said. Just the sweet, radiating heat that he had to admit felt pleasant against his skin. 

“Are you tired?” he asked, lips pressed to her forehead when he joined her in the bed. She was practically purring, curled against his body the way she was. Lucien was far too tempted to touch now that she was feeling better. Elain rubbed against him, draping her leg over his hip and Lucien groaned despite himself.

“Stop it,” he whispered, catching the devious look in her eye. “You are unwell. You need rest.”

“I need my mate,” she replied mischievously. Lucien looked up at the ceiling as his cock stirred to life. 

“You need to rest,” he repeated, moving her hands off his body only for Elain to slide them right back down. “Insatiable beast.”

“I was dreaming of you,” she told him, wrapping her fingers around his eager, twitching cock. Lucien exhaled when she stroked, sliding from beside him so she could settle between his thighs. The sight was nothing short of spectacular. Lucien drank in her softly glowing skin, bathed all but gold beneath the firelight. Her long, unbound hair covered her bare breasts, the curled tips tickling against the soft curve of her stomach. She’d tucked her knees beneath her round ass, her hand wrapped around his achingly hard shaft, lips parted with the promise of licking. 

“What were you dreaming of?” he panted, thighs falling apart to heighten his own pleasure. 

“This,” she murmured. “You, spread out beneath me.”

“Such filthy words from my elegant mate,” he rasped. “What have you done with her?”

“I left her at the human village,” Elain murmured, tongue darting from between her red lips. Fuck, he thought to himself, watching as she dipped her head to his slit to taste the beaded moisture already pooling at the tip. She was so fucking beautiful. Lucien took a deep inhale of her, practically writhing despite her strange new scent, now mingled with her own hot arousal. He wanted her on his face, even when she wrapped her lips around him with that same clumsy yet sweet mouth. Lucien didn’t think Elain would ever wholly get used to pleasuring him this way, not as he had done. For humans, there was something obscene about taking your lover into your mouth and Elain, no matter how much she enjoyed his taste, always seemed to think better of his cock bruising the back of her throat right when it came time to actually swallow him.

He didn’t mind, content to feel the silky warmth of her tongue against the base of his shaft for as long as she was willing to have him. It was utterly indecent and still one of his favorite feelings in the world. There was no part of her that was not soft, no part he didn’t think he’d enjoy fucking, should she ask him to.

Her arousal spiked, perfuming the air and with regret, Lucien all but pried her off his cock. “I’m not done,” she grumbled, darting from his grasp when he tried to settle her atop him. “I don’t think I can stand to be penetrated,” she added, realizing what he wanted. “I’m sore.”

“Sore?” he questioned. In his lust filled haze, Lucien remembered belatedly she was still ill, still recovering. 

“Sore,” she agreed with a fan of embarrassment. “My courses are coming and everything is sensitive.”

“Ah.” He ignored his disappointment. He swallowed his dashed hopes and allowed his cock to drive his thinking. “You mean to swallow me, then?”

“I’d like to,” she replied wickedly.

“Only if I can taste you while you do it,” 

She hesitated long enough for him to catch her about her waist. Elain yelped but too late, Lucien had her straddling his face. He groaned the minute that scent hit him in the face. It was so much more potent here, sweet and heady to the point his eyes all but rolled into the back of his skull. 

“Suck,” he rasped before he began devouring, the taste of her bright against his tongue. He just barely registered her pressing her naked body against his own, pushing her wet cunt further against his face so she could take him back into her mouth. It was decadent, his own pleasure pulsating through his body while his tongue lavished praise. 

Elain ground her hips against him, coating him in that scent. He was losing himself, holding her tight against his face until it was all he could smell, all he could taste. He wanted to bathe in the wet leaking from her body, couldn’t help himself when he dipped his tongue into her opening. Elain moaned so loud he felt the reverberation in his bones. He was going to come before her, his hips practically canting off the bed, all but fucking her pretty, soft mouth.

Lucien was wild, feral with need. Instinct was riding him hard, demanding he satisfy her. It was the scent, he realized when he couldn’t hold himself back, pouring himself into the back of her throat. Elain swallowed all of it, moaning softly as he continued to feast. 

“Lucien,” she whined, bracing her hands against his stomach. Lucien held her hips, letting her ride his face. “Lucien, I—” She came with a bright, hoarse scream and he couldn’t help his answering snarl. He needed to move, pulling her off him, so he could escape, his skin rippling with the urge to shed his mortal skin. He just barely made it outside, stumbling onto the lawn still punishingly hard. Scales erupted over his body, his bones snapping, teeth elongating. He could feel Elain just behind him, her scent trailing after her.

Awareness punctured his lungs, momentarily robbing him of breath. “Lucien?” she asked, standing in the threshold of the door. Lucien roared a warning over the valley, illuminating the inky, rainy night with punishing flame. Elain pressed a hand to his spiked tail, settling the frantic thrashing. Lucien whipped his head around, smoking pouring from his nostrils, to look at her. He could see it all so clearly now. Her body shimmered against the night, radiating colors of orange and gold. Still naked, Lucien dropped his head further, inhaling again. His senses were better like this, more refined. That sweet, soft scent that all but overpowered Elain glowed, too—a soft lilac in the night. He rubbed his snout against her stomach, his pride and pleasure unmatched. Elain’s fingers clasped, pressed against the taut flesh that gave no indication of what Lucien could see and smell. 

His mate, his perfect, lovely, pregnant mate.

Lucien turned his head to the otherwise silent night, roaring his warning one last time.

It was no mere threat to any predators that might be lurking. 

It was a promise of death.

[orlissa]

January reading summary

My one New Year’s resolution this year was to read fifty books in 2023–that would mean 4.17 books per month, just for fun math’s sake. In January, I managed to finish nine. Okay, that’s a bit of a fib, because two of these nine were started back in 2022, and one was read twice (once when I translated it, and once when I proofread the manuscript, but I’m gonna count those too). Still, it’s a pretty strong start. Anyway, I thought I’d do like a monthly summary of my reads, partially to motivate myself, and partially just to review to books I read, because we Leos thrive on attention. So, January reads, here we go:

Richelle Mead: The Indigo Spell/The Fiery Heart/Silver Shadows/The Ruby Circle – I read these right after each other (I started The Indigo Spell on December 31), as a part of my Vampire Academy re-read I started early December, so they kinda bleed together in my mind and I’m not even gonna try and write separate reviews of them. Truth is, I like 75% percent decided to read Bloodlines because I wasn’t ready to let go the Vampire Academy world yet after finishing Last Sacrifice–I just needed more Rose and Dimitri. Sure, there were things I liked in Bloodlines beyond their cameos, like the new magic system, the theme of rebellion against oppressive structures, dealing with parental trauma, and I especially enjoyed the whole re-education sequence in book five (there are very few things more terrifying than psychological torture, and the whole storyline of Sydney not giving up and fighting against it was absolutely fascinating). Still, I couldn’t get into the characters as much as I did with the original series, and, let’s be honest here, the last book sucked. The plot was all over the place, and the author basically fridged two women for a fanservice twist within a storyline with a hamfisted outcome (I mean, as a fan I was very much serviced, but it could have been done in a better way).

John Gwynne: The Hunger of the Gods – This was my translation project, so one of the books I started last year and the book I read twice from this list. As for the book itself… So, it’s a Viking-lore inspired epic fantasy (second in a trilogy) with a huge cast, where warring factions are allying with gods to gain power over the continent called Vigrið. Is it something I would have chosen to read for myself? No, it had way too much blood, eye-gouging, disfigurement, and child abuse in it for my taste (extensive facial scaring of characters has always made me squeamish). Was it objectively a good book? Yeah, sure. There is a wide range of interesting and diverse characters with depth, an exciting plot, and remarkable worldbuilding. Do I manifest the editor stepping on a Lego? Yeah, that too, because on the textual level the book had some issues that had me wanting to rip my hair out. But if you are into hard-core bloody fantasy and Norse lore, yeah, I definitely recommend it.

George Takei – Justin Eisinger – Steven Scott – Harmony Becker: They Called Us Enemy – I read this one in preparation for a course of mine which I won’t be teaching after all. Still, no regrets here (I mean, I’m sad I won’t get to teach this class, but I’m not sad that I read this book). So it’s George Takei’s memoir about his family’s time in internment camps for Japanese-Americans during WWII, while also dealing with the impact that time had on his later life, in a graphic novel format. It’s poignant and heartbreaking and honest, and really helps to put this segment of American history into perspective.

Ali Hazelwood: The Love Hypothesis – I read this book out of morbid curiosity, because I’ve seen how divisive it is (having started out as a Reylo fic, the author talking about how her agent is feeding her tropes, etc.), and honestly, I did not expect to enjoy it as much as I did. Sure, there were icky parts, like it took actual willpower not to try to equate the main characters with Reylo/the actors, and not to try to match the supporting cast to the… well, to the Star Wars supporting cast (which I really needed to do, because I don’t like the new Star Wars, and although he has my absolute respect as a human being, I do not find Adam Driver attractive at all), the author sometimes really went overboard with the “OMG, what an actual giant the male lead is”–gushing, the sex scene had some questionable lines/metaphors, some of the side plots had a distinct fanfic crowd-pleaser feel (like Malcolm and Holden, who I’m pretty sure were originally Finn and Poe, going from “vaguely aware of each other’s existence” to “in a stable, have met the parents, banging like rabbits relationship” in like three days), and the ending was definitely rushed. However, on the other hand it was a fun little rom-com with a witty language and some commentary on sexism and sexual harassment, and although I’m not in STEM, the quips about academia and PhD candidacy really, and I mean really resonated with me. I’m definitely going to read more of the author’s stuff.

Brodi Ashton – Cynthia Hand – Jodi Meadows: My Imaginary Mary – I’m a big fan of The Lady Janies-series, but I’ll be the first one to say that they seem to be running out of steam. Sure, I know this book wasn’t even the original plan – they wanted to do one with Marie Curie, but they had to scrap that idea for some reason, so instead we get Mary Shelley and Ada Lovelace –, but still, in some aspects this book falls really… flat. While in the previous books the fantasy element felt like an integral part of the world, here it’s just… there, just thrown in, and the whole “fae godmother” introduction is just lazy writing (literally, a character just appears, brings one protagonist to the other, introduces them to each other, tells them she is their fae, not fairy, godmother, and she is now going to teach them magic. Just like that, in medias res, deus ex machina, and all that jazz). At the same time, Pan is sweetheart, the pop culture allusions are a stroke of genius, and the whole discourse about what is life is nice. So, yeah, the style is great, the message is great, but the plot is meh at best.

[shop-korea]

TENT - NOT - POP UP - JUST - TOSS - THEN - FOLD - INTO

ROUND - BALL - ITS - AUTO - SIGNS - MIAMI - SANITIZING

EVERY - WEEK - OVER - 7 YRS - TORTURE - ABUSE - SO

I - TRIED - YESTERDAY - 2 - DO - THAT - BUT - WHEN - ME

DID - AGAIN - FASTER - BUT - AUTO - TENT - SLICED YES

ABOVE - MY - R THIGH - NEAR - SHORTS - AREA - WAS

RED - CREATING - TENT - SLICED - MY - 2ND - FINGER

DIDN’T - KNOW - BLEEDING - WAS - FIXING - MY - UNIT

GIRL - MET - LONG - AGO - AT - BAYFRONT - PARK

MOM - 4 KIDS - SAW - NEXT - DAY - AT - LIBRARY

SHE - HAS ABOVE - STORAGE - STAIRS - NEEDED

SAW - ME - AFTER - 5A - WITH - HER - MALE - YES

FRIEND - GAVE - HER - MY - CHRISTMAS - GIFT AS

I - SHARED - SHOPIFY - ONLINE - STORE - HOW 2

DO - THAT - HER - MALE - FRIEND

AFTER - SAID - TRY VIRTUAL VAULT.com

2 ITEMS - GIVEN - VIDEOS - PHOTOS SO

MOST - LIKELY - ALI EXPRESS.com - HE

ASKED - HOW - MANY - ITEMS - I - SAID

‘2′ - WAS - GOING - 2 - ASK - ANOTHER

I SAID - I - NEED - 2 - TALK - 2 - HER XO

SO - CONTINUED - I - WAS - ABLE - TO

SET - TENT - BUT - I - WAS - BROOMING

HAD - 2 - CLEAN - SO - WENT - BACK IT

WAS - AFTER - 6A - INSIDE - SO - YES

BEAUTIFUL - NIGHT - AND - DAY - HAI

PARKING - PER - APP - I - LEFT - 1 CAR

NEAR - BOX VAULT - SELF - STORAGE

BLDG - ON - SW 2ND ST - FR - TRULY

123 SW NORTH RIVER DR

2 WAY - AS - IT - GOES - 2 - SW 2 AV

BLUE - TENT - COMING - OUT - I SEE

CHICA - 35 LBS - LARGE - BROWN DOG

LISA - AT - LITTLE - STRANGE - LIKE I’M

TAKING - HER - THUNDER - SAYING - I

WOKE - UP - CHICA - SHE - DOESN’T

WANT - ANYONE - 2 - GIVE - DRINK

NO - WATER - NO - WEE WEE

ILLEGAL - LAW - STATE - CONTAINER

HAS - 2 - HAVE - RUBBER - UNDERNEATH

NO - SPILL - WATER - MUST - B - SEEN AT

ALL - TIMES - I - GAVE - MY - IT - LOOKS

LIKE - REVERSE - GALLON - OF WATER

LOCK - THEN - JUST - CLICK - WATER

THEN - POURS - SHE - DRINKS ONLY

LIKES - ZEPHENYRL - FR - MEMORY

PUBLIX - 6 ST - NW 2ND AVE - $0.51

ALWAYS - COLD - THEIR - SALE SHE

DRANK - THAT - NATURAL - SPRING

WATER - SO - WILL - GIVE - THAT - 2

LISA - WAS - YELLING - AT - ME - SO

REMINDED - GAVE - U - MY - TENT 2

SHE - CUT - IT - SO - SHE - CAN SEE

PERSON - IT’s - SLIGHTLY - DESTROYED

BETTER - THAN - WHAT - SHE - WAS YES

USING - MINE - QUITE - BEAUTIFUL TRUE

INSIDE - THE - SIGN - MUST - TAKE - ALL

PERSONAL - BELONGINGS - WITH - YOU

EVERY - WEEK - SANITIZING - BUT - NOT

EVEN - AT - GOOGLE - SEARCH - WHAT

THEY - DO - EXCEPT - IT’s - TORTURE

ABUSE - HARRASSMENT - FELONIES

TRIED - 2 - OBEY - BUT - JUST - PUTTING

TENT - TOGETHER - WITH - POWDER XO

FREE - GLOVES - SLICED - MY - FINGER

AND - TODAY - FR - NOWHERE - GLASS

WENT - 2 - MY - R HAND - PALM - AND WAS

LIKE - SPLINTER - WAS - PAINFUL - I TRIED

2 - REMOVE - HOLY GHOST - HELPED - ME

REMOVE - THAT - GLASS - ON - MY HAND

I - HAVE - 2 - LEAVE - TENT - THERE - AS

I - START - MY - MEMBERSHIP - LA FITNESS

$49.99 - ONLINE - PRICE - TOMORROW YES

29TH - MY - SSI - $914 - SHOPIFY - HAVE - AN

OVER - $100 - DEBT - GLAD - 2-  PAY - BUT - I

AM GETTING - (.com) - DOMAIN - TOMORROW

NOT - RENEW - CAILEY.STORE - NEW ZOHO

EMAIL - ADDRESS - TECHNICAL - SUPPORT

HOW - 2 - DO - THIS - MAYBE - ANOTHER $7

$67 - MONTHLY - JORDAN WELCH

CAN’T - WAIT - THE - 2 - ITEMS TOO

HE - DOES - GIVE - TRIAL - PERIOD

THEN - THERE’s - FORM - SAMI CLARKE

WHAT - I’LL - B - DOING - $22 - SINCE - I

DID - 7 DAYS - B 4 - MAYBE - IMMEDIATE

MEMBERSHIP - WHICH - IS - OK - ALSO

SO - LOTS - OF - EXPENSE - WON’T - PANIC

TENT - GORGEOUS - INSIDE - IT’s - LIKE - A

BLUE - AND - WHITE - NICE - INSIDE - JUST

RIGHT - NOT - BRIGHT - UNLIKE - BEFORE

WARM - INSIDE - BUT - NOT - THAT - BAD

ALL - FREEZING - OUTSIDE - BUT - I’M XO

WEARING - SMALL - SHORTS - SO - GOOD

DOES - SHOW - A - CAMEL - AND - LOGO 2

BUT - IT’s - MISTAKE - DOESN’T - EMPHASIZE

I - NEED - 2 - PUT - ON - FARTHEST - HOLE

NOT - MIDDLE - HOLE - HAD - SUCH A HARD

TIME - THE - CHINESE - DIDN’T - DO - SIZE

RIGHT - MISSING - HALF - AN - INCH - YES

WAS - HARD - BUT - COULD - HAVE - BEEN

EASY - 4 FT - HEIGHT - SHOULD - B - 5 FEET

LENGTH - 7 FT - CAN - B - JUST - 4 FT - I’M

NOT - FAT - 5 FT - ONLY - 4 - WIDER - FOR

FATTER - HOW - TO - MAKE - THIS - FASTER

PUT - LIKE - SLICE - OF - BRED - POLES SO

INSERT - BUT - HAS - OPENINGS - SO - TO

MAKE - EASIER - THEY - SHOULD - HAVE

JUST - B - USE - BUTTONS - AND - BUTTON

ON - THE - POLE - THE - EDGE - SHOULD B

U - CAN - BRING - UP - AND - DOWN - LIKE

BECOMES - SHORTER - LONGER - U CAN

ADJUST - SIZE - SO - GOES - UP - DOWN

SO - CAN - PUT - INSIDE - HOLE - FASTER

OTHER - TENTS - THERE’s - CLAMPS BUT

THIS - ONE - NONE - BUTTONING - WITH

BUTTONS - IS - SOLUTION - SO - FASTER

INSTEAD - OF - RIBBON - ON - TOP JUST

VELCRO - SO - STRONGER - 2 - PUT YES

ABOVE - THEN - SMALL - RECTANGULAR

2 - PUT - ABOVE - LOUSY - DESIGN - ITS

SHOULD - B - SAME - JUST - LIKE - BUTTONS

JUST - CLICK - CLICK - CLICK - SO - FAST - 2

WILL - B - DESIGNING - TENTS - IN - FUTURE

BLUE - BECAUSE - DOGS - SEE - SHADES OF

THAT - AND - GREEN - ADD - YELLOW - BUT

CATS - SEE - SHADES - OF - BLUE - GREEN

SO - CHICA - CAN - SEE - MY - BLUE TENT

THUS - LEAVING - THERE - SO - I - CAN XO

GO - THERE - FR - LIBRARY - AND - TAKE A

NAP - ANYTIME - FELL - ASLEEP - TWICE 2

IT - WAS - LIKE - GRAVITY - PULLING - ME 2

SLEEP - STRONG - BUT - I’M - AWAKE NOW

AS - I - TYPE - LEAVING - AFTER - 4:30P FOR

WOMEN’s - RESTROOM - FINAL - CLEANING

4P - 4:30P - SO - CALCULATING - WHAT - ME

NEEDS - MAYBE - JUST - STARTING - THIS

ON - JANUARY - INSTEAD - BECAUSE - OF

MY - EXPENSES - BUT - THINKING - OF XO

JUST - DOING - NOTHING - EITHER - IT’s

WASTING - MY - TIME - NOT - DOING YES

ANYTHING - MOST - LIKELY - WILL - DO IT

I’M - 2 - CURIOUS - ABOUT - JORDAN YES

WELCH - PROGRAM - SO - I - DON’T - HAVE

2 - GO - 2 - THIS - LIBRARY - EVER - AGAIN

WANT - 2 - HAVE - APT - I - CAN - GO - TO

AND - SLEEP - SLEEP - SLEEP - TRULY 2

I - WANT - 2 - TACKLE - TIK TOK BUSINESS

WAS - EASY - B 4 - BUT - SANITIZING - YES

MY - FINGER - WAS - SLICED - TWICED AND

BEING - PARTLY - QUADRAPLEGIC - I - CAN

SAY - DIDN’T - KNOW - MY - FINGERS WERE

SLICED - AND - GLASS - LITTLE - JUST - YES

DIGGED - IN - BRINGING - MY - TENT - 2 HAI

FOLD - DAILY - WILL - DAMAGE - MY - HAND

DAMAGE - MY - TENT - SO - HAVE - 2 LEAVE

THERE - MY - SCHEDULE - LEAVING - 4:45A

WEEKDAYS - 2 - SHOWER - AT - 5:05A - WILL

BE - BEST - SCHEDULE - 4 - ME - NO - TRUE

LONGER - THERE - 2 - HARRASS - 2 - HURT

2 - ABUSE - GLAD - WE - HAVE - A - GOD - 2

PROTECT - US - BUT - ALWAYS - LEAVING

WITH - TENT - SLICED - MY - FINGERS SO

SANITIZING - AT - MIAIMI - 2 - KILL - THE

HOMELESS - ILLEGAL - MISOGYNY - THE

HARM - AND - ABUSE - OF - WOMEN FOR

MY - FINGERS - SLICED - IS - NOT FUNNY

BACK - AT - SW 2ND ST - BACK - 2 FOOD

GIVEN - 2 - US - I - SHARED - THANKSGIVING

AT - 12P - INSTEAD - OF - 5P - AND - LISA SHE

SCREAMED - THAT - THEY - POISON - PEOPLE

WALA - WALA - WALA - BIG - FATSO - ‘SARGE’

WAS - GOING - 2 - DOCUMENT - AND - FILM 4

YOUTUBE - 2 - GET - DONATION - AS - HE - IS

HOMELESS - BUT - THEY’RE - DOING - TAX

EVASION - NEVER - DECLARES - TAXES AS

EX - ARMY - 4 YRS - REQUIRED - VETERAN

BUT - POLICE - LOCKED - LOT - BECAUSE

HE - WAS - STARTING - EAT - EAT - EAT ITS

FREE - LIKE - THESE - PEOPLE - WILL YES

ALWAYS - B - ABLE - 2 - FEED - THESE HAI

LOOSERS - WHO - DON’T - WANT 2 WORK

SO - THEY - JUST - SET - TABLE - SAME AS

MY - NEW - ADDRESS - AFTER - TENT WAS

DELIVERED - SUNDAY - SW 2 ST - BUT - AS

McDONALD’s - CHEESEBURGERS - GOT 3

THE - MOST - 2 WATERS - ANOTHER - ASKED

ME - WENT - 2 - LOT 37 - PLATE - OF - QUITE

DELICIOUS - CHICKEN - WITH - SODA - COLD

THAT - WAS - GOOD - SO - WAS - NOT - VERY

HUNGRY - WHEN - FOOD - CAME - FOUND XO

OUT - GIRL - BLK - CLOTHES - WAS - PINAY - 2

THEY - MUST - HAVE - PUT - LEMON - FRESH

ON - ONE - FOOD - ITEM - MADE - ME - LOAD

OFF - LOTS - OF - DIAHRREA - HAD - 2 - YES

DISPOSE - OF - JEANS - PANTY - BUT PANTY

LOST - 2 - GLAD - HAD - HUGE - LAVENDER

TRASHBAG - PUBLIX - $3.99 - SO - I’M GOING

2 - ENJOY - DR JERRY SAVELLE - AS - 2 - YES

WHAT - 2 - DO - DECEMBER - MONEY - TRUE

TOMORROW - 2024 - YEAR - OF - GIVEN - US

PROGRESSION - ACHIEVEMENT - OR - YES

ACHIEVING - AND - HIGHEST - LEVEL - FINALLY

ATTAINED - LOVE - HIM - WITH - THE - UPS YES

STORE - $117 - CAN - GET - MY - VOTERS

INFORMATION - CARD - JOEL OSTEEN &

JOSEPH PRINCE - DR JERRY - SAVELLE

MAIL - 24/7 - ACCESS - NEAR - BRICKELL

STATION - 25 PACKAGES - EA - MONTH 2

TAX - DEDUCTIBLE - ALSO - I’M - EXCITED

BUT - HOPE - I - CAN - AFFORD - THIS DEC

DECEMBER - 2 - START - SHOPIFY - AGAIN

4 - OVER - $200 - I - NEED - 4 - AMAZON - 2

JESUS - IS - LORD

I - WILL - NOT - FEAR - BUT - ALWAYS - YES

AWAKEN - I - HAVEN’T - SLEPT - AGAIN FOR

24 HRS - BUT - 24 HRS - ACCESS - I - JUST

FINISHED - CLEANING - AND - FIXING - YES

EVERYTHING - BECAUSE - WALMART - TRUE

CLOTHES - HANGED - WAS - GOING - SIDEWAYS

LIKE - THE - STUPID - PLASTIC - BLK - THING - XO

WAS - GOING - SIDEWAYS - ONE - EDGE - WAS XO

DESTROYED - REPLACED - SO - CAN’T - WAIT - TO

THROW - I - WILL - PRAY - SING - PRAY - TONGUES

TONIGHT - SLEEP - PRAY - PRAY - SING - TONGUES

BACK - 2 B - ABLE - TO - HEAR - YOUTUBE - FAITH

AGAIN - FR - DR JERRY SAVELLE - CARS - YES ITS

STRONG - AS - IT - BRINGS - FR - MY - R - 2 - LEFT

SHAKES - STRONG - AS - CARS - SPEED - BY - SO

LIKE - HURRICANE - WINDS - 1 DOOR - GREATEST

BECAUSE - IF - FLOODING - THE - WATER - JUST

GOES - 2 - DUMP - ON - TENT - SIDES - SO - ONE

DOOR - FACING - FORWARD - BETTER - IDEA XO

LOVE - LOVE - INSIDE - REALLY - BEAUTIFUL - SO

GETTING - OVER - $60 - COT - AND - 14 INCH - YES

ELEVATION - AND - FOLDABLE - 15 LBS - BUT - I’M

BUYING - 500 LBS - CARRIER - SO - HERE’s - THE

SCENARIO - I’M - NO - LONGER - GOING - EVER 2

BAYFRONT - PARK - WILL - NEVER - GO - ANY YES

MORE - BUT - JUST - BAYSIDE - MARKETPLACE

VICTORIA’s - SECRET

FIVE - GUYS

(BURGERS - SHAKES - FRIES)

BEN’s - PIZZA - 2 - PLACES - 2

LOBSTER - SANDWICHES

SO - WEALTH - MEANS - EAT - EAT - EAT

AVENTURA - MALL

FOOD - COURT - WILL - GO - THERE - OFTEN

VILLAGE - PIZZA - ...

SPAGHETTI - HUGE - MEATBALLS

GARLIC - BREAD

CHICKEN - PARMIGIANA

PIZZA

OTHER - DIMSUM - THAI - MILK - BOOBA - YES

AFFORDABLE - FOOD - AND - DRINKS - YUMMY

GOING - 2 - AVENTURA - MALL - OFTEN - BUSES

OR - TRAIN - AND - BUSES - I - FORGOT - 2 - YES

MOOVIT + - OVER - $10 - PER - YEAR - WILL - DO

THAT - INSTEAD - OF - $1.99 - MONTHLY - LOVE

LOVE - DID - I - SPELL - THAT - RIGHT - 4 - THEY

SHOWED - STREET - NAMES - GOOGLE - MAPS

DIDN’T - SO - HAD - NO - IDEA - HOW - 2 ENJOY

CRATE - AND - BARREL - AGAIN - WHEN - JUST

SO - NEAR - WANTED - 2 - CRY - CRY AND - CRY

WILL - PRAY - SING - PRAY - AS - 2 - WHAT - 2 DO

SHOPIFY - NEXT - MONTH - OR - JUST - 2024 - AS

JANUARY - WILL - PRAY - SING - PRAY

NOT - DOING - THE - 2 YRS - OF - MIAMI - DADE

COLLEGE - FLOODED - MY - EMAILS - WITH XO

TRANSCRIPT - TRANSCRIPT - TRANSCRIPT

NOW - TELLING - ME - 2 - APPLY - 4 - FINANCIAL

AID - STRUMPETS - I’M - NOT - FULL - TIME - YES

THEY’RE - TREATING - ME - LIKE - REGULAR

STUDENT - INSTEAD - OF - KICKSTART SCHOLAR

SHIP - 4 - THE - UNEMPLOYED - NOT - MANY - YES

CHOICES - MINE - CHEF - APPRENTICE

OVER - $8,000 - 6 MONTHS - TUES - THURS

8 HRS - EACH - WHY - ARE - THEY - FLOODING

MY - EMAILS - WITH - WHAT - POOR - PEOPLE

COLLEGE - STUDENTS - NEED - 2 - DO - AND

CULINARY - ARTS - MANAGEMENT - 2 YRS IS

OVER - $7,000

LAB - OVER - $18,000

BETTER - OFF - IN - PARIS - LE - CORDON BLEU

AS - CHEF - BECAUSE - LEARNING - 2 - JUST BE

APPRENTICE - OF - A - CHEF - BUT - IN - PARIS

LEARNING - 2 B - CHEF - I’M - LEARNING FRENCH

LIVING - ALSO - IN - PARIS - FRANCE - BRITTANY

CHATEAU - INSTEAD - SMALL - PLANE - 2 PARIS

WEEKDAYS - BUT - LEARNING - HOW - 2 - CUT

HAIR - OF - KIDS - MYSELF - BEAUTY - PERMS

COLOR - MAKE OVERS - HOW - 2 - DO - 4 - NOT

IN - MIAMI - LIKE - ALEXANDRA OLSEN - AND

HER - SISTER - WHO - I - WILL - MEET - SEOUL

SCALP - TREATMENT - NOT - AVAILABLE - HERE

IN - MIAMI - THEY - JUST - DO - BLOW - JOBS AND

BEND - 2 - SHOW - ASS - AND - BREASTS - VERY

IMMORAL - I’M - LEARNING - IN - PARIS - ALSO

SKIN - CARE - HOW - 2 - CREATE - MY - OWN

SOUTH - KOREA’s - NUMBUXIN - EXCELLENCE

AND - KANE - REAL - GOD - IS - GOOD - ITEMS

YES STYLE - COMMISSION - IS - REAL - GOOD

PARIS - FRANCE - TEACHING - ME - 2 - MAKE

SKIN CARE - PERFUME - BACK - 2 - BALLET AS

I - LEARN - SPLITS - IN - AIR - FIGURE SKATING

GYMNASTICS - WILL - B - JOINING - LOTS - OF

PARIS - AND - TOKYO - WORLD - SPORTS

GETTING - BLOND - BLUE - EYES - MALE 2

B - PERSONAL - TRAINER - BUT - I’VE - DECIDED

2 - STUDY - IN - PARIS - FRANCE - THEN BECOME

ARCHITECT - SHARED - WITH - AMAZON - MALE

DRIVER - PRIME - THAT - FRANCE - HAS - WORLD

LONGEST - STANDING - BUILDING - THEREFORE

ARCHITECTURE - SHOULD - B - LEARNT - THERE

PARIS - OVER - 2,000 - YEARS - OLD - FINALLY

GIVEN - BACK - BY - ENGLAND - 2 - FRANCE FR

SO - STUDYING - FRENCH - AND - KOREAN YES

NO - LONGER - DOING - MIAMI - DADE - COLLEGE

2 YRS - JUST - 6 MONTHS - SOMETHING - 2 - DO

THEN - OXFORD - UNIVERSITY - ENGLAND FOR

PHOTOGRAPHY - JOURNALISM - LITERATURE 2

HOW - 2 - RUN - CORPORATIONS

BUSINESS - ADMINISTRATION

IN - PARIS - HOW - 2 - RUN - HOTELS AND CAFES

BEST - SCHOOLS - FOR - THAT - COUTURE - YES

FASHION - DESIGN - DRESSMAKING

ONLINE - UNIVERSITY - OF - FASHION

FASHION - ART - DRAWING - PEOPLE - CLOTHES

PATTERN - MAKING - SEWING - AND - MORE TOO

$19.99 - ONLY - UNLIKE - WEIRDO - MIAMI - DADE

COLLEGE - LARGEST - COLLEGE - IN - THE - USA

SO - DECIDED - 2 APTS - HERE

SOMA - AT - BRICKELL - 2 PETS

SW 13 ST

IN - FRONT - OF - LARGE - PUBLIX - SELF SERVICE

BEAUTIFUL - KITCHEN

OVER - $3,000 - 2 BED - 2 BATH

MIDTOWN - MIAMI

NEAR - TARGET - WANT - AMAZON - GROCERY - TO

REPLACE - THAT - NEAR - CITI FURNITURE - 2ND APT

2 PETS - MY - CAT - WILL - BE - HERE - INSTEAD

28 FLOORS - 347 UNITS

SWIMMING - POOLS - GREAT - 24/7 - GYM - YES

HONG KONG - MALES - MY - HOUSEHOLD STAFF

SINCE - KIDS - FRESH - NOODLES - FR SCRATCH

PEKING - DUCK - MARTIAL - ARTS - WEAPONS SO

GOOD - IN - 6′2 FT - TALL - THIN - BABES - THEY

WILL - B - MY - DRIVERS - GETTING - RV - YES

RECREATIONAL - VEHICLE - 2 - BRING - 3 PETS

2 - TEA CUP - ENGLISH  YORKSHIRE - TERRIERS

OVER - $6,000 - EACH - ONE - SMALLER - THAN

THE - OTHER - BRINGING - US - 2 - MOST - YES

BEAUTIFUL - TREES - NORTH - CAROLINA

BLUERIDGE - MOUNTAINS - ESTATE - STABLES

40 DEGREES - SNOW - ONLY - UNLIKE - MIAMI

20 DEGREES - YEARLY - DEADLY - HURRICANES

JULY - 2 - NOVEMBER

NO - MORE - THAT - 2

ASHEVILLE - 2016 - HAPPIEST - CITY - SAFEST 4

WOMEN - ONE - OF - TOP 10 - BEST - CITIES - TO

LIVE - IN - ROOTS - OF - PEOPLE - JOLLY ENGLAND

WHITES - OVER - 80% - BLKS - 11% - HISPANICS 2%

ASIANS - INDIANS - NOT - MUCH

ASHEVILLE - MEANS - CHEROKEES - PLAYING - IN

THE - WIND - SOMETHING - LIKE - THAT

MORE - THAN - 300 FOODS - SELECTION - THAN

RALEIGH - NC - AND - 50 MIN - BY - CAR - IS THE

CITY - FORGOT - NAME - LOVE VILLE - ONLY -

HORSES - NO - CARS - 2 - TRAVEL - TEXAS -

HATS - ASHEVILLE - VANDERBILT - CASTLE -

MEMBERSHIP - OVER - $200 - YEARLY - 2 - SEE

CASTLE - MY - HORSE - 10% - DISCOUNT - THE

HOTELS - SHOPS - MORE - THAT - THEIR - MAIN

ACTIVITY - CAN’T - WAIT - CAN’T - WAIT - THUS

SHOPIFY - $10,000 - EACH - MONTH - YES WILL

START - TOMORROW - JESUS - IS - LORD - YES

BUT - STARTING - TENT - SLICED - 2ND - FINGER

TODAY - STARTING - TENT - AGAIN - GLASS YES

LANDED - ON - MY - PALM - THUS - SAFER - FOR

ME - 2 - LEAVE - TENT - THERE - SLICED - THIGH

FIRST - DAY - POLICE - ARRIVED - AT - WHERE I

WAS - BECAUSE - BLK - GIRLS - BUMS - REFUSED

2 - LEAVE - 4 - CLEANING - SARG - ASKED - ME XO

WHAT - POLICE - SAID - WHEN - I - ALWAYS - LEAVE

EARLY - ARMY - ARMY - WILL - NEVER - B - FRONT

LINES - WHAT - A - STUPID - ABOUT - LAND - AS 2

US - ARMY - WHO - GUARDS - DEFENDS - LANDS

MARINES - FRONT - LINES - IN - BATTLE - WHO - I

WILL - ALWAYS - B - PARIS - WILL - HEAL - ME YES

PARIS - LOVES - FEMALES - GIRLS - BABIES - YOU

CAN’T - B - FIRED - 4 - WORK - MY - RELATIVES

MORE - THAN - 1,000 - YEARS - THERE - QUITE

BEAUTIFUL - MALES - SO - PARIS - WILL - HEAL

HEAL - ME - AGAIN - LIKE - WHEN - I - LIVED THERE

IN - CHATEAU - FACING - EIFFEL - TOWER - PARIS

WILL - HEAL - HEAL - HEAL - ME - LIKE - TOKYO JP

ONLY - DOCTORS - AND - NURSES - DRIVE DAILY

TOTALLY - COOL - AS - MILITARY - SURGEON - ME

JOIN - THEM - DRIVING - DAILY - IN - PARIS FRANCE

MY - DECISION - PARIS - PARIS - PARIS - ALSO  4 ME

JESUS - IS - LORD

HAPPY - THANKSGIVING - TUMBLR - MY FOLLOWERS

[asvterias]

𝖡𝖾𝗇𝗓𝗈’𝗌 𝖣𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 + 𝖣𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖧𝗈𝗉𝖾

a/n: first time writing headcannons so it might be bad. also this is directed to black!fem readers

Benzo’s Daughter

You were the miracle child for your parents; after they had gotten married short after, they had longed for a child

You were a self-born heretic, much to your parents’ dismay

Since Bonnie is such a caring mother, she didn't want you to not know your grandparents so at 3 months old, she and Enzo visited Abby

The family of three lived in Enzo's cabin since it was basically his home and sometimes you visited your great grandma Sheila's house

The bennett vampire was stunned at the tiny baby in her daughter's arms

“If you're not gonna be apart of my life, than please. Be apart of your granddaughter's.”

Witnessing your first supernatural ability was when you were probably 5 and repeated a spell which your mom indicated

Let's just say that was a horrible disaster and you weren't allowed to be around your mom when she was doing spells anymore

Bonnie would adore your fascination with being half witch and how you always told her she was your greatest role model

Everyone would see the resemblance between you and your mom whether it was personality or facial features

Even though you looked and acted like your mom, you shared hobbies with your dad and ever since, you could talk Enzo had tried to teach you the guitar

“Come on sweetheart, show daddy the key on the guitar.”

“Enzo, she's five. She can't find the guitar on th—“

Bonnie didn't know how but you strangely found the guitar note and strummed it, giggling softly at your father's surprised face

“She did it. My babygirl is a genius.”

Between the ages of 5 - 10, you were a daddy's girl but now entering the tween stage you were a mommy's girl

Spending quality time with your mom and she wanted you to learn spells in case of danger. Easy or hard and she wanted to started off easy, clearly not wanting you to almost kill yourself with the powerful spells

Spending holidays with your aunts and uncles

The twins were 2 years older than you whereas stefanie and you were in the same age range, therefore you were more closer to the salvatore girl than the twins

When stefanie had her first heartbreak, you were there for her and showed her your magic by floating the pillow contents up in the air around her.

Despite her being human and you being a heretic, you would always invite her to everything and would always treat her like a sister

Safe to say that you two were a mini bonnie and elena without all of the hardships

Being 11 years old you had your first period and you were with your dad. Suddenly you felt this outburst of pain in your stomach making you clutch it in pain

“What's wrong sweetheart?”

“Something's not right.”

Just then your mom walks in holding groceries to see your concerned faces

“What's going on?”

“Bonnie, something is wrong with our daughter. Let's take her to the doctor right away.”

“Dial it down, babe." She looked at you, "[Name] just started her period.”

“Which is why exactly we should take her to the doctor to stop it.”

The Bennett witch turned to her husband, “Don't worry that's natural.”

“Bonnie, stop lying to our daughter. That is not bloody normal, she's bleeding from the wrong way.”

“Is there something wrong with me, mom?”

“This how it works for us females, enzo. She's our little girl and we're supposed to teach her these things.”

“Well then it should be stopped, it's torture.”

Luckily Bonnie had bought some pads and cleaned you up then she teached you all about your menustral cycle and how it works monthly

You were 17 when you finally figured out your sexuality

To be honest, you were scared to tell your parents that you were a lesbian

“Mom, dad. I need to tell you something.”

“You're not pregnant, are you?!”

Now why the hell would that be the first thing that comes to your father's mind so you immediately cleared that up with them

“I think I like girls. It's not that I don't hate boys, it's just that I prefer girls over them. You know, I see myself dating and marrying a girl and I'm happy with that.”

They both blinked at you which only worsened your anxiety and began biting your lip, “Please say something. Anything?”

Does a part of you thought that they were homophobic? Yes. Yes you did

But can you really blame yourself. I mean they had cold ass expressions when you came out.

“We're so proud of you, [name].”

“We've hinted about this for weeks.”

“Great, does this mean that we don't have to give you the talk anymore.”

“Nope sweetheart we still have to give her it but just with girls.”

Hope’s Girlfriend

SFW

 While attending the salvatore boarding school, you were quite popular considering how your mom is such a legend

  You first met Hope at the salvatore boarding school and you gained your mother's kindness so you immediately befriended her

  At first, Hope was suspicious of your intentions with her and then was kinda intimidated cause you know, how your mother almost successfully killed her father and uncles several times; not that she was counting

But let's be honest, who wouldn't be worried at first, I mean her family is the most dangerous and oldest family so her dad and your mom were kinda frenemies

With a lot of tried attempts from you, Hope finally let her guard down and befriended you which made you her first friend at the horrendous school: as she would call it

Despite both of your backgrounds you became pretty close and shared very similar interests

On lazy days, Hope would invite you to her dorm and paint while you played the guitar softly

Moving from friends to best friends, she invited you to her house more often and became closer to her family specifically her aunt Freya

Going 5 years strong, Hope had first realized her feelings for you when she would get jealous of other girls flirting with you  

Let me tell you, the chemistry between the bennett heretic and mikaelson tribid was certainly unmatched and unbreakable

“I've never learned how to paint.”

“Are you serious? Well, that's changes today.”

Hope dragged you to her house, briefly greeting her family before going down to the art room. You were in awe, amazed by all of the paintings that Klaus and Hope did.

After Hope had settled you at a clean canvas she had left to go get some snacks

Minutes into the painting, you were getting stuck on which color to paint next

“Are you having artist block already?” Is what Hope asked when she came into the room, hands filled with various types of snacks

“Gosh, Hope did you raid the whole snack closet?”

“Well, since I'm your bestie, I know that you're extremely picky. Besides you are my dodging my question.”

After unloading your insecurities of the painting to Hope, she came up behind you as she guided your hands back across the canvas. You were sandwiched together; so close together that her breasts were literally pressed against your back and you almost forgot what breathing was for a second

  “Is this okay?” She would surely ask, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable

“Yeah, it's okay.”

So she continued, softly breathing in your scent which consisted of cinnamon and lilies. Not that Hope would ever admit it but your scent made her feel somewhat like she was safe from all danger

“Hope, maybe we should—“

Your statement made you turn around, jumbling all of your own thoughts when she locked eyes with you

It wasn't an initmaniting infamous mikaelson glare and instead it was kinda like she was stuck in a love trance

Or maybe it was the lack of space between you two which caused you to get overwhelmed

Your beauty, your aura. Hell even your scent had her in a lock

  Remaining in silence, Hope briefly looked at your lips, cautious enough to not get caught by you

Trapped in a gaze, Hope initiated the kiss, gently placing an hand to cup your cheek and you didn't pull away

The kiss was soft and sweet. Just an innocent first kiss

  Sharing your first kiss with Hope was while she was teaching you how to paint. Pretty romantic right?

Soon after, you had starting dating and became the most legendary couple at the school

Stefanie was lowkey impressed at how you managed to pull a mikaelson of all people

Surprisingly, Stefanie and Hope get along despite their parents being sworn enemies

At first, your mom was skeptical but realized that Hope had truly loved you.

  The real reason as why Bonnie was cautious of you dating Hope was that she didn't want you to go through what she went when she was younger (her friends using her for magic)

Enzo was protective like the helicopter dad who would always say, "Door is open at all times." or would just randomly burst in, scaring the shit out of the two of you

Same with Klaus, he was determined to make sure that you never break his daughter's heart.

All those good times and laughs that you shared with him vanished. Poof, all gone. You were dating his daughter and that changes everything

Hayley saw how you treated her daughter and was okay with it. Maybe she did a background check on you to see if you really cared about Hope and your slate was spotless

When holidays arrive you would take turns spending at each families and sometimes even combining both (mostly being christmas and you or hope's birthday)

Klaus would always tease Hope when you would come to visit

“Well, if isn't my future daughter-in-law.”

“Dad!”

“I'm telling the truth, aren't I?”

“Maybe...but not now.”

After Hope confessed that, the following day Klaus and Enzo made a bet on who would propose to who first

Even though that was not even close to here, it was definitely coming

You were basically like Freya & Keelin but more powerful and younger

There would be times when you depised your skin color due to racists but Hope is always there to bring your spirits up by complimenting everyone inch of your body

If that doesn't work, she would actually kiss every part of your skin to remind you that she loves her beautiful black girlfriend

She’s SO protective of you

Did I mention that she was protective??

Rarely gets into arguments but most of it is how she often puts herself in danger for the school

Hope would try to reassure you that she could protect herself but it only worsens your overthinking

If she was hurt during a mission, she would ALWAYS avoid you just because she didn't want to be scolded by you for being so carelessness

Even though you are pissed at your girlfriend, you still help clean her wounds

It took Hope a lot of convincing to let you join the super squad and help during missions

Let’s just say that you ever got hurt during a mission because the villain decided to make you target practice

All hell would break loose, for the villain of course

There was this one time that Hope had almost successfully killed one of them for just laying an hand on you

She absolutely loves your hair and would sometimes braid it, with your permission of course

She would be the kind of girlfriend to actually sit with you and help loose out your braids

Would always paint you especially when you're sleeping in her hoodie after a lustful night

Extraordinary anniversary dates or just regular dates in general

It would be no use denying that Hope was BIG on PDA and she doesn't care where you're at, you could be at school, her house, at the mall, you name it

Maybe at your house if Hope wants to be mischievous at times

Would mostly wake up to morning kisses all over your face or usually her kissing your bare shoulder after a very steamy night

You stealing hope's hoodie's all the time

“Princess, have you seen my hoodie?”

“Nope, haven't seen them.”

Since, you're black you would awaken her taste buds and feed her seasoned food

Her always the big spoon, 24/7. She claims that she would feel safe that you are in her arms, not leaving her.

Would cuddle you to the death sometimes in her wolf form and human form

“Stay. More cuddles.”

NSFW

Now it's time for the real deal, what you actually came here for

5 months into dating and you decided to take things to the next level

You and Hope were both nervous and decided to take it slow which consisted of soft kisses, touches and words of appreciation to the other

Hope blamed her sexual needs on her wolf so you would do it normally two or three times a week

This girl is a fucking sex maniac especially during her heat and since Hope is basically half wolf she will go into heat for 4 days straight

Oh, don't even get me started on the heat

Would usually bring the strap on when she's in heat maybe the vibrator when needed

Let's just say that you won't be walking for those 4 days

Her wolf is VERY possessive

Like she would literally growl at bystanders who even dared to look in your direction

She definitely loves when you let out little whimpers

“Angel, you look magnificent falling apart on my fingers.”

You have a praise kink, not really surprising, I'm sure of it

Loves to overstimulate you at random times

Morning sex is a must for Hope

Loves to give you head and doesn't except anything in return

Jealous sex is mind blowing

Sometimes after an argument, you would wake up to Hope between your legs eating you out like you're her last meal

© asvterias, 2022. please do not plagiarize any of my works.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hole in One

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, fingering, public, dark!Peter

Inspired by the gif below. Source.

The sun beats down around your visor as you stand on the bright trimmed grass. The tedium of eighteen wholes drags by and you question the drift in your life. Why you're here? How you got there?

Your answer comes with the whip of the long iron and the twist of the man's torso. He's your answer, one you can't take back. A real and regrettable fact. A pill you swallow for a price you were willing to pay in flesh but cost you a piece of your soul with each passing day.

'I'll take care of you, honey. Anything you want. Just stick with me and you don't have to worry about all that.'

The memory makes you sigh as you hold the bag steady and he slides his club into the crowded interior. Peter's dark eyes meet yours and he smiles as he curls a finger for you to lean closer.

You do and he kisses your cheek and smacks the bottom of your ass peeking out from under the short golf skirt. Another ware to be sold.

"Brighten up, babe, it's a sunny day," he says as he hooks his gloved thumb in his pocket, his watch glinting in the harsh glare and the pinky ring catching a hint of it, "hot but not as hot as you."

You force a smile and swallow. It doesn't get easier. It only makes you question if it's really worth it.

You remember the day you tore up the eviction notice and how happy you were. That was before you knew how much you'd given away.

You snap out of your trance and drag the bag over to the cart as Peter hops behind the wheel. You haul up the heavy clubs and climb in next to him.

"Babe, you're quiet today," he says as he reaches over to tickle your thigh, his other hand on the wheel as he lightly presses the gas, "what's the matter?"

"Nothing, everything's perfect," you lie as he kneads your thigh and pulls it away from the other, "as always."

You know what happens when you tell the truth, when you ask him to slow down, or beg him to give you break.

You still feel the crick in your neck from days ago when you were still bleeding and told him you hurt to much from your monthly guest. He didn't care and the pain was worse after.

"I told you, babe, let me do the worrying," he pokes between your skirt, a piece he chose that morning, insisting too on the string pink thong, "you just sit pretty and enjoy."

His fingertips glide over the small vee of the panties and slip beneath. He steers lazily in no particular direction. You hand onto the bar that holds up the roof of the cart as he flicks your clit. You tense as he hums and delves between your folds.

"You're a decent enough caddy," he purrs as he dips his finger inside of you, "a bit distracting though."

"Sorry--"

"Don't be sorry, babe," he pokes another finger inside and curls them as your skirt bunches at his wrists, "relax."

You let him do what he wants. You don't want a repeat of the restaurant when he pushed his plate on the floor and stormed out. That was only the beginning. Your night ended in tears, like most.

He rocks his his hand so the friction builds at your clit and you arch your feet in your golf shoes and close your eyes. You moan as you succumb to the pulsing pleasure. You grip the metal tight and brace your other hand against the seat.

You heart a whir and the toot of a horn. Peter calls a hello to another golfer as he passes and you get a quick glimpse of the man as his mouth falls open. You have no doubt he saw exactly what Peter was up to.

You grab his wrist and he squeezes our cunt so you whimper and let him go. You pull your hand away and gulp as he goes back to his torturous teasing.

"How about..." he says as he turns the wheel with his thumb, "if you cum before I find my ball, I won't fuck you on the green."

[sunfish-studies]

Period Lecture

✄・・・ Crisp Leaves [Aoba Johsai Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Aoba Johsai x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: period, mentions of bleeding, mentions of cramps

➜ Notes: Manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm.

↷ SUMMARY ↶

You’re kind of grateful and proud all of them for taking this… rather seriously?

As a manager, re-stocking the team’s needs is one of your duties–which means, when the school’s monthly allowance come it’s time for you to go on a short trip to the supermarket and sport’s supplies shop while bringing a grocery list.

This is also a way to unwind from the suffocating gym–slightly refreshing relief rather than just being cooped up in one place. Usually, there were you and another member tag along in case the groceries piled up and it was impossible being carried alone. Sometimes, Coach Irihata let the whole team tag along just so they didn’t get too bored.

Shopping trips were also a great moment for you to buy anything you need with your own allowance, of course. It’s like killing two birds with one stone.

“This is kind of the place men usually avoid as much as possible,” you commented, before snorting in amusement. “I’m surprised you tailed me here without hesitation.

All you said was true–your boys did follow you even until you stood in front of a high shelve filled with womanly needs. Yes, you’re talking about sanitary pads for monthly period routine.

“We kind of want to know somethings,” Matsukawa didn’t even pull out his punches. “And if we know maybe we can help you in some way.”

“True, true!” Oikawa agreed, pulling out a sanitary package of 12–eyeing it nervously. “Still, I didn’t know the brands are this many…”

“I thought you’re used to this from your previous girlfriends,” Iwaizumi deadpanned.

“Well, I’ll try to explain as easy as possible, so ask away,” you remarked, reaching out for your usual brand and dumping it into the grocery cart. Since the stock at home was already diminishing, you need to piled it up again, so you bought quite a many.

“Uhm, why are there wings and non-wings…?” Hanamaki frowned, staring at the packaging with bold letters ‘with wings’ on it. “What’s the difference?”

“The ‘wings’ means extra material right here,” you answered, pointing out to the sheets on the sides of the pad. “It will fold over the edges so the pad will stay securely in place. Extra prevention for possible leaks.”

“And the s-size are so many…” Kindaichi stuttered. It was true, though. A few packages were in 29 cm, and gradually the size increased from 35 cm even to 42 cm.

“We have heavy duty days,” you explained. “So, instead of wearing the short-regular ones, we opted for the long ones so we don’t to worry too much about leaking. Usually, the ones that extremely long are the night-pads.”

And there went you explaining many things to them in the end–about it would be better to wear pads which has no scent as precautions to allergies, about the ‘day’ and ‘night’ types, and possibly anything they had their curiosity on.

It’s kind of endearing on how they were eager to learn, good for their future significant other–they care enough to prepare for the future and not embarrassed themselves in some way from the lack of knowledge.

There were even girls and older women whispering about how precious your boys are for wanting to know. It made you proud in having such responsible people around.

“Do you have cramps at around the time of the month, senpai?” Kunimi questioned–once you got everything you need, he volunteered to help you in carrying the heavy plastic bags. Now, all of you were on your way back to school.

“I do,” you answered, sighing when you remembered the natural pain that always accompanying your period. “Remember when I don’t show up for at least a day or two every month? It’s because of cramps. It’s torturing, you literally had your insides being smushed together.”

Yahaba went pale in just a matter of seconds. “Just thinking about it already makes my stomach hurts…”

“How do you handle it, senpai?” Watari asked, which made you hummed in wonder.

“Most important will be having a nice hot compress.” You remarked. “It can either be anything as long as it’s warm. It lessened the pain, and if you couldn’t handle the pain even with hot compress you can drink pain relief medicine.”

“Tylenol, Paracetamol, Mefinal,” to your surprise, Kyotani was the one listing the pain relief medicine.

“You know a lot, Kyotani-kun!” you praised the blonde-haired boy. “I’m impressed!”

“My sister always kicked me out to buy one of those.” He replied gruffly.

“Does food really help?” Oikawa piped up. “My previous girlfriends always asked for snacks or drinks.”

“Sometimes, depending on the person,” you said, laughing nervously. “I’m not too eager to eat especially when I have cramps, but sometimes I craved chocolates, sweets, or even savory things just to indulge my hormone fluctuations.”

And that’s how your lecture went, and what surprised you the most was how it definitely being branded onto their mind. 

Amazingly, Iwaizumi had the period tracker app in his phone and even asked the date so he could prepare (this man is just truly impressive-). 

Oikawa would stop by in your class to drop small chocolate snacks or sweets just for you during your week of bleeding–wanting you to be comfortable as possible.

Your friend from another class almost went head over heels for Matsukawa because he had pads in his school bag when she’s desperately searching for one. Matsukawa mentioned that he wanted to be prepared because of their manager. 

Hanamaki didn’t even hesitate to do errands for you if you asked him–he’s just a call away he said, and wouldn’t shy away if you nervously asked if he could buy you your brand of pads in the supermarket.

Kyotani had his medicine ready anytime, if your cramps acted up he immediately shoved them to your hand along with warm lemon tea he fetched from the vending machine. 

Kindaichi and Kunimi constantly checked if you’re feeling well or not during practice, urging you to drink often and even pushing some sweets so you wouldn’t be too sluggish. 

Yahaba offered to bring you your bag or even taking over the duty of filling water bottles just so you could sit down and not moving too much. 

Meanwhile, Watari made sure to had at least one hot pack in his bag–if he noticed you wincing from pain, he instantly went to your side and gave you the hot pack to relief the pain.

When you’re out of duty because of intense cramps, the team stopped by at your house after practice–bringing along all of your favorite food, scented candles, or even anything that could lift your mood up.

Oh, you truly love your boys down to the very core.