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sentientcave · 28 days

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Heavy Weighs the Crown

Had to stop working on everything else and write a whole bunch of this instead. Usually I like to finish things that I think might be on the longer side before I start posting, but we're gonna live on the edge with this one. Expect updates in 1-2 Bearimys.

Chapter One - Sweetpea

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Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, Large men picking up reader like a football, No Y/N, A spot of magic, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Reader descriptions kept as neutral as possible but keep in mind that she is a character to me and does have a specific appearance so things might slip through. This is just me having a bit of fun with a fantasy setting because it is my favourite type.

~3.4k Words - MDNI

Sunlight streams down through the light scattering of clouds above, as you carry your nearly empty basket into town to buy a few things for your auntie Kate. She’s not truly your aunt, but over the past few years it’s hard to think of her as anything less than family. She’s not warm, exactly, but she’s honest, and you know that you can trust her with anything.

Kate would usually be at your side when you go into town, watching the crowd with hawkish intensity, as though she still expects agents of the new king to materialize and snatch you away, but she’s away on business, and her wife much less paranoid. You expect that anyone who was ever looking for you has given up on you now. After the civil war, there was a time of instability, and you laid awake many nights, half expecting armed men to break into your bedroom and snatch you away, but everything is smoothed over now, and there’s no reason why Price would feel like he needed you to cement his rule.

You’re happy to just let him have the kingdom. You have more freedom as an ordinary girl, and you’re happier now than you ever have been. You were miserable living in your father’s halls, just a spindly little flower growing without enough sun or rain. And your people are happy now too. It twists your stomach something fierce, to think that your father was never a good king, but the reality is that he wasn’t. People starved while he feasted behind his walls. He sent good men to wage war on his behalf, to die in far off lands when they should have been home building better lives for themselves and their families. He allowed his chosen men to terrorize the women and children and old men living in the towns still. Things had been bad.

So yes, let Price have the crown, and the castle, and the responsibility and anything he likes. What difference does it make to you now?

What matters now is the sun on your face, and the gentle sound of birdsong around you, and the dull bite of the occasional stone through the soft leather soles of your shoes. The air smells sweet and green, although there’s a slight prickle at the back of your nose that tells you that there will be rain tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest. There’s nothing to worry about aside from whether or not the children in town will like the end of the book you have tucked into your basket.

You see a young man sleeping by the side of the road on your way into town, his horse tied to a long halter while he lounges beneath a tree. As you pass by, a bird flying too close startles the horse, and it pulls up the peg it’s tied to, and bolts. The young man doesn’t stir, so you dash after the horse without a thought, dropping your basket so you have both hands free to seize the halter.

You try to dig in your heels to stop the big, white-stockinged horse, but it half-drags you a little ways down the road before finally stopping, swinging it’s head around to look at you as though you’ve personally offended it. “Come on,” you tell it, exasperated. “You don’t belong out here.”

Arms wrap around you from behind, hands much larger than yours close over your wrists. “You’re awfully pretty for a horse thief,” a voice says in your ear.

“I’m not a horse thief!” you protest. “I was trying to help!” The horse snorts, as though it intends to tattle on you for something that you most certainly were not doing.

“And you didn’t think to wake me up?” The man behind you lets go of one of your wrists and spins you around, the movement smooth and graceful, like you’re two dancers at a ball, rather than two strangers meeting along a country road. But when you look up, you find the all too familiar face of one of Price’s knights.

“Sir Garrick!” you gasp.

“Princess,” he says, smiling. He’s far too handsome, his smile bright, teeth a little bit too sharp. “How very nice to see you. I thought for sure you’d have left the kingdom by now.”

“No! Oh no.” You push against his chest uselessly. He’s strong, so much stronger than you. Despair claws at your ribs. Your nightmare-come-true may be wrapped in a pretty, familiar face, but you have no desire to return to the capital. “Please let me go. I promise I don’t want the kingdom. Price can have it— You can have it. I just want to be left alone, I swear, I’ll never—”

“Hush, sweetpea.” He tucks a few of your thin braids behind your ear, fingertips grazing down your neck. “I have to bring you in. But you can make your case to Price. Maybe he’ll let you come back, alright? Don’t fret. He’s always been reasonable.”

You’re not certain how to get out of this. Sir Garrick has kind eyes, but his grip is like steel. He lifts you up easily and sets you on his horse before you so much as think of protesting or making a feeble attempt to fight him off.

“We’re not far from the capital. We can make it there before dark,” he continues, voice low and reassuring, as though you’re worried about the travel, and not the destination.

“But— What about my aunt? I should let her know where I’ve gone.”

“We’ll send word. Don’t you worry, your majesty.”

“No, no, don’t call me that. That’s for kings and queens, and I’m neither.” I’m no one, you want to shout.

He's amused by that, amused by you, as if you're just being a silly little girl. "I suppose we'll settle on sweetpea for now." He holds his palm out and three little white birds materialize and fly off in different directions, spectral and iridescent as soap bubbles. And then he swings into the seat behind you and pulls you most of the way into his lap, wraps strong arms around your waist, and nudges his mount into a walk.

“So,” Sir Garrick says conversationally, his voice low, lips far too close to your ear. It’s overly familiar, but you’re already practically sitting in the man’s lap. “What have you been doing out here all these years?”

“Um. Gardening. Embroidery. Taking care of my chickens. Lessons, for some of the children that live nearby. Just letters and arithmetic. I’ve been thinking about organizing a proper schoolhouse.” You can feel your nerves bubbling up as you babble, thoughts coming to you disorganized and stilted. “I never realized how few people can read. It seems a shame. I do a few hours of reading around town, help out at the church. I keep busy. I haven’t any real purpose, so I have to go out of my way to make one.” You sigh, thinking of how you had left things at a particularly gripping point in a story you’d been reading to the town children. They’ll be disappointed if they never hear the end of it, but you still have hope that Price will decide you’ve become something of a country bumpkin with no place in the court, and let you go back home soon. “How have you fared? Is your family well?”

“Quite well. My sisters will be glad to see you again. They always thought you were sweet. Rosie’s opened her own dress shop in the city, and Camellia has five children now. I think Kylie and Jorah were just two or three last you saw them. My mother lives with Cam to help out.” Sir Garrick’s mother and sister used to work at the palace, and he had been apprenticed to the court wizard before he specialized in battle magic and became a knight. You hadn’t been friends, exactly— You’re not sure you ever really had friends— but he’d always been nice enough, when your paths crossed.

“And what of you?” you prompt gently. “Have you found yourself a wife?”

He laughs lightly. “I’m working on it. I’ve a girl in mind, but I think she’ll take some convincing.”

“Oh I doubt that, Sir. You’re perfectly unobjectionable.”

“High praise indeed, princess.”

The two of you chat idly as you travel, mostly about nothing, but it’s pleasant enough. Sir Garrick— Kyle, he insists you call him— is far more charming than you remember, and he makes you laugh so much that you’re certain that you’d simply fall right off the horse if he wasn’t holding onto you so securely. He’s the very picture of a romantic hero, all chivalry and smiles, handsome in the dappled light under the canopy of trees as the road carries you from farmland to forest. You come to a bridge, and he dismounts so his horse can drink, and lifts you down so you can stretch out stiff muscles. His touch lingers, strong hands resting on your hips for a few beats longer than would be appropriate, but you don’t really mind.

You part from his company so you can relieve yourself a little ways into the trees, glad he’s not concerned about you making a run for it. His assurances that Price can be reasoned into letting you go home once you’ve spoken to him is enough to make you cooperative. You’re certain that he’ll take one look at you now and send you right back home. You’ve never had any luck with the young men in town, and if that’s any indication, you’ll be back to your little bedroom in Kate’s house before the week is up.

You fix your clothes and walk back to the road, humming lightly under your breath. Kyle is speaking to a flat glowing disc that hums with energy, floating above his palm. He gives you a smile and a nod and retreats to the tree line while he finishes his conversation. You catch a glimpse of a face on the disc as he turns, searing blue eyes meeting yours for a moment. Price, certainly. You recognize those eyes.

Kyle’s gaze slips over to you again as you kneel by the creek, one arm keeping your skirt out of the water while you trail the other hand through the water idly, the cool stream a pleasant offset to the heat of the afternoon. If you were alone, you would consider stripping down and going for a swim, but as nice as Kyle is, he’s still a man, and not one you know particularly well anymore, if you ever did.

When you look over again, he’s tucking the crystal disc into the front of his tunic, and a wolf is behind him, stalking out of the woods, low to the ground and ready to pounce. “Kyle!” you shout, pointing behind him. He turns quickly, a spell glittering on his fingertips, but the wolf pounces before he can cast it, both crashing into the packed earth along the side of the road.

You rush over, although halfway there you wonder what help you expect to be, and an arm snatches you around the middle, hauling you back. You’re beginning to get a bit annoyed at how much you’ve been manhandled today, and you start kicking as you’re lifted off your feet. “Let me go!”

“Easy, sweet girl. Let the lads say hello,” a deep voice says behind you, the sound rumbling through you like a cat’s purr. “No danger ‘ere.”

You look at Kyle and the wolf again. Only there isn’t a wolf anymore, just a large, naked man laying on top of Kyle, kissing him ardently and more than a little messily. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn. “Oh.”

The man who was a wolf stands up, and you look away, too flustered by the sight of so much bare skin to do anything else. The big man puts you down and turns you to face him, putting your back to the werewolf. “Johnny, put some clothes on before you say ‘ello. We know you were raised by savages, but you don’t need to act like it,” he says firmly, his heavy hands on your shoulders.

You stare at the skull embroidered on the black tunic in front of you, recognizing the emblem, and then the black fencers mask tied around the man’s face, obscuring even the shape of his features. You see a glint of light when he drops his chin to look at you though, gleaming eyes that look at you inscrutably. You know him, by name and reputation and deep, rumbling voice, if not by his face. No one knows him by his face, but he was as highly ranked a knight as Price was, one of your father’s personal guard before the war. Often tasked as your guardian, a solemn but comforting presence always. “Hello, Ghost,” you say, cheeks burning all the hotter. “Been a while.”

“Not as long as you might think,” he says. You can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Been keepin’ an eye on you.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. “For how long?”

“Knew where you were this whole time. Wun’t about to let you disappear, princess.” He tucks you against his side, keeping an arm around your shoulders protectively. “Johnny. Come meet our girl. Best behaviour.”

Johnny the werewolf grins at you as he walks up, still adjusting the drape of the tartan fabric around his hips, broad chest bare and dusted with hair, swirling blue tattoos printed on his scarred skin. His hair is shaved on the sides, a stripe of it left long in the center. “Nice ta finally meet ya, princess. Officially, anyway. We’ve bumped intae each other once or twice, but I was told no’ ta approach unless ye approached first, aye? Shame ye never did.” His smile is crooked, his too-bright blue eyes intent on yours. “Think we’ll get along.”

“The whole time?” you ask, skipping back a few paces in the conversation, glancing up at Ghost. “But Kyle said—”

“Sorry, sweetpea,” Kyle says airily. “I lied.”

“Typical tricksy wizard shite. But dinnae ye worry none, we’ll keep him honest for ye.” Johnny grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, and then to the inside of your palm. His rough fingertips push your sleeve back, and he kisses the inside of your wrist too. When you squeak, he gives you a heated look and does it again, teeth grazing sensitive skin as he opens his mouth and licks a stripe across your pulse.

You’re warm from the tips of your ears to your chest, your breath catching on ragged nerves. You tug your hand out of his grip and cradle it with your other, like you’ve been burned by his brash touch.

“Johnny,” Ghost says, exasperated. “S’that what you call best behaviour?”

“She likes it, sir.”

“I most certainly do not!” you protest.

“Oh, aye ye do. Werewolf, ye ken. Can smell ye.” Johnny taps the side of his nose and winks at you. “Ye dinnae need ta be embarrassed, sweetpea. Ye can hardly blame yerself, faced with all this.” He gestures to his admittedly impressive physique, the broad and lean shape of near-perfect manhood on immodest display.

“Let’s move.” Kyle’s hand brushes your elbow. “You can ride with me again.”

Ghost shakes his head and turns, pulling you with him. “No. Come meet Nox.” He whistles, and a huge black shape hurtles down from the sky, glossy black wings snapping open just before the creature hit the ground, flapping a few times so that it lands lightly on four mismatched limbs, stirring up dust leaves. You shrink back against Ghost’s side, eyes wide. A gryphon.

The massive beast has a raven’s head and wings, and shiny black fur on it’s haunches. The catlike tail, with it’s tuft of feathers at the end, twitches back and forth as the bird head tilts to regard you, dark, slit-pupil eyes watching you with interest.

You look up at Ghost for reassurance, and he nods. “Go on. Offer ‘er your ‘and. She won’t bite. Hey, girl?” he scratches the gryphon behind the ear, and it opens it’s mouth to make a vibrating, keening sound that makes Kyle’s horse snort nervously. “That’s right, sweetpea’s a friend.”

You offer your outstretched hand to the giant creature, bolstered by Ghost’s calm, and it sticks it’s beak under your palm, making the same keening sound again. The last of your apprehension melts away, and you step closer, smiling. “Aren’t you a pretty girl?” You scratch the spot where her beak meets her feathers, and her eyes close for a moment.

Johnny reaches for the Nox’s side, and she whips her head around and hisses at him, her throat feathers fluffing up defensively. “Och, yer no’ goan ta git my fingers, ye wee beastie. Thought ye was gettin’ soft.”

“Away, Johnny. Let the girls get to know each other.” Ghost stands behind you and guides your hands to points just behind Nox’s jaw. The gryphon croaks and leans her head on your shoulder, nudging Ghost with her beak.

“Not so scary,” you coo, pressing your face into the soft cloud of feathers. “What a sweet girl.”

“How about it, Nox? Can she ‘op up?” Ghost asks. The gryphon croaks again and backs away enough to lean her front half down. Ghost picks you up and sets you on her back, on a flat saddle that sits right behind the joint of her massive wings, which fold up over your legs like she’s holding you steady. He pats Nox on the neck and starts walking, and she follows, padding beside him, sticking her beak between the joints of his leather armor playfully whenever he takes his hand off her.

You grab the edge of the saddle, mindful of Nox’s feathers, and it takes a moment to adjust to her movement. It’s not the side to side sway of a horse, but she’s steady, like she’s trying her best not to spill an inexperienced rider. Thoughtful of her.

Behind you, Kyle scrambles up onto his horse, and Johnny hustles to catch up, positioning himself on Ghost’s other side, giving Nox a wider berth.

“Thought we weren’t supposed ta tell her we were watchin’,” Johnny said. “Price said—”

“She ought to know. I wun’t too ‘appy about it in the first place, but a deal’s a deal.”

“A deal with who?” you ask.

“I’ll let Price tell you that much, sweetpea. But if it were up to me I’d’ve dragged you back home years ago.”

You shake your head tiredly. “Home is where I was. And I’m going back as soon as this business with Price is done. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m sure we can work something out. Kyle said he’s reasonable.”

“Oh, did ‘e?” Ghost asks, amusement colouring his deep voice. “S’pose that’s ‘ow ‘e had you comin’ along purrin’ like a kitten, hm?”

The blood drains from your face as you turn to look at Kyle, but he doesn’t look guilty, or like he’d been lying to you. “Well, again, I’m perfectly happy to cooperate. There’s no reason why he wouldn’t let me go when he gets what he wants, is there?”

Johnny chuckles, exchanging a look with Ghost that’s inscrutable. “Aye, ye’ve got a point. I’m sure ye’ll have no trouble dealin’ with the old man. Born diplomat, aren’t ye?”

Your stomach twists with nerves. It’s been many years since you’ve seen John Price. You don’t know him as well as you know Ghost. You’d always found the big, faceless man strangely comforting, easy to talk at, if not to, especially when you were still young and silly. But John Price, when he fixed you with those fathomless dark blue eyes, had always rendered you speechless, turned your usually clever tongue to lead. He was a knight captain then, a natural leader of men, a hero. Not someone that your father wanted you to get close to. It’s easy for you to see why now, with your father dead in the ground and Price wearing the crown, but you were glad for any excuse to stay away.

You wish you could ask Nox to fly away with you on her back, maybe home, but maybe somewhere else entirely, where no one knows you, where you can start again without the weight of the crown hanging heavy over your head, an executioner’s ax waiting to fall.

***

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

#Fantasy AU #cod mw fanfiction #x reader #x fem Reader #141 x reader #Heavy Weighs the Crown #Cave Writing #This is mostly gonna be fun and light-hearted I just really enjoy fantasy and I've been watching a lot of DnD content lately #“He's always been reasonable” Kyle lies thinking fondly of his boss - the least reasonable man in the realm #Let me know if you need any content warnings in here but I feel this one's pretty light

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moonlight-farm · 8 months

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Mod List

Alternative Textures Mods

Animal Scarecrows Animated

Animated Scarecrow Critters

Aster and Nari's Japanese Wallpaper and Flooring

Aster's Chests and Minifridges as Japanese-ish Bamboo Baskets

AT Fence Pack by Kaya

Aster's Big Furniture Pack for Alternative Textures

Aster's Painting Display Signs

Elegant Craftables

Equine Explosion - Horse Retextures

Flipping Flamingos

Frog Decorations

Gwen's Craftables for Alternative Textures

Hanging Flower Baskets

IdaIda's Furniture Recolor

IdaIda's Craftables

Magical Furniture

Medieval Buildings for Alternative Textures

Midori's Camping Set

MSaturn Floaties - Alternative Textures for Crab Pots

Mushroom Paths

Nano's Garden Style Craftables

Nano's Retro Style Furniture

Nyang Cat Scarecrows

Out-and-About Storage

Rosy Picket Fences

Shyzie's Rugs

Suitcase Record Player

Wall Basket Retexture

Warm Cozy Fireplace

West Elm Furniture by Atlas

Windmill Sprinkler

Custom Furniture Mods

Catmao Picnic Furniture

Gedian's Swing

Oriental Rugs and Tatami Set

Ornamental Garden Furniture

SinceWayLastMay's Orchid Pack

Who_M_Furniture - Happy New Year

Xiaoyang's White Flower Wedding Furniture

Yellog's Furniture

Content Patcher Mods

A Wittily Named Recolor

Arcades into Consoles

Cometkins Better... Mods

Cottagecore Fences

Everlasting Flowers

Fall Leaves

Farm Animal Facelift

Fresher Food

Global Warming - Mountain River with Water

Gopher Dig Spot

Grass for Summit

Gwen's Paths

Hat Mouse and Friends

Hippo's Cliffside Falls Farm

Industrial Furniture Set

Industrial Kitchen and Interior

Medieval DNT

Medieval Fish Well

Mi's and Magimatica Country Furniture

Movie Posters

No More Stumps in Town

Oasis Greenhouse

Owlie's Better Lilypads

Plantable Palm Trees

PPJA More Trees Retextured

Ran's Farm Decor

Redesigned Shed Layout

Rustic Country Town Interiors

Rustic Country Walls and Floors

Rustic Traveling Cart

Seasonal Garden Farmhouse V2 (Unofficial Update)

Secret Garden Frog Terrarium

Secret Woods Totoro

Simple Foliage

Simple Special Orders Board Retexture

Slime Hutch into Greenhouse

Solarium (Rooftop Spa House)

StarAmys Random Furniture Reskin

Trinkets

Visible Fish

Void Cat

Way Back Pelican Town

Zyr's Multipurpose Shed

DGA Mods

Animated Koinobori

Better Gemstones and Minerals Animated

Flower Power Furniture

Junimo and Bird Animation Lamp

Kedi's Pets Furniture

Koi Ponds and Tide Pools

Minakie's Custom Furniture

RoseDryad's Fairydew Decorations

StarAmy's Fairytale Furniture

StarAmy's Wild Greenhouse Furniture

Tenthousandcats' Firefly Lamps

JA Mods

Aquatic Plants

Cute Sweets and Desserts

Korea Blossom

Lumisteria Flowers and Crops

Neo's Succulent Farm

PPJA - More Trees

Quaint Living - Flower Garden

Succulents

Solid Foundations Mods

Shyzie's String Lights

Wildflour's Witchy Gardening Sheds

#stardew valley #stardew valley mods #sdv #sdv mods #stardew valley modding #sdv modding #stardew valley aesthetics #sdv aesthetics

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alltimefail-sims · 9 months

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I'm sure this has been done, but I wanted to showcase some of my favorite fem-frame looks from the new Horse Ranch EP.

More of my thoughts and some mediocre screenshots under the cut ↓

"There will be no horse content from me" she says only a few hours ago... like a lying liar. But I'm way out of my depth with this pack friends... I have no idea what I'm doing. I know nothing about horses or ranches lmfao, but I ended up testing the new pack out because I can't go into the Jacobs save until some mods are updated. Thus, Lea Hahn was born!

I was pleasantly surprised with the CAS items for this pack! Granted, three of the hairs I showcased above are BG, but I still kind of count them with the pack because they came with the prep-update. I love the dirtier clothes and wish more clothes from other packs came with dirty swatches.

Here's a picture of Lea and her horse, Bullet Train; an elder rescue who is supposed to be really defiant, but her and Lea actually clicked right away. 🥺❤️ Lea is already on level 3 horseback riding. I felt like the skill was gained surprisingly fast, but I guess I shouldn't complain haha.

Also, I can't tell if her jeans are glitching with the saddle's texture (the feet place - stirrups I think they're called?). But it looks like there is a texture issue there where the stirrups (?) are the same blue as the jeans... and if that is an issue, it should not be lmao. Especially not with clothes that literally came with the pack lmao... but I digress!

Need a good default eye for these horses. I think they're pretty cute but their eyes are soulless lmfao.

The build and buy stuff in this pack is probably my favorite that has come out in a while. TS4 is good at looking good, and the decor does not disappoint. I love the "shabby" look, I love all the wood tones and the textures. HOWEVER - I am upset there are references to basket weaving, but basket weaving is not a skill. Pottery would have been a great skill for this EP too. I just want more things to do with my sim. For $40.00, I think they should have threw in at least one more skill-building activity, but that's just my opinion.

As for the world/townies, I really like this one. I wasn't crazy about San Sequoia, but I'm loving this world. (Go figure, I'm a Strangerville girly so we already knew that would be the case.) Lea met her neighbors, Don Gooseman and the "Mysterious Rancher" who were really helpful and kind, despite her being incredibly awkward because she's a loner.

Final bright side: I'm shocked that I haven't encountered any major bugs like... at all. Usually new EPs are riddled with issues, but so far things seem to be pretty smooth. That is a welcome change, but the bar is in hell when we're excited about an EP being functional upon release lol...

I haven't tried nectar making, but I'm going to try that tomorrow so uhhhh... more thoughts to come I guess. If you read all of this... ily❤️.

Okay bye!

#Click for better quality! Tumblr killing me I stg #ts4 horse ranch #ts4 #simblr #ts4 lookbook #horse ranch lookbook #the sims 4 #sims 4 #the sims community #new EP thoughts #atfs #oc: lea

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libercivco · 2 months

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THE ROAD AHEAD: STUDYING JUDAISM

If you've been reading my blog, you know what's up. My ancestors are calling, and it's been incessant. I got further confirmation today that my ecstatic experience of G-d and my Jewish Ancestors when I received a word for the work they did when they were alive. Amid deep contemplation and research, during a five minutes break, I heard the words "Chevra Kadisha."

The feeling of vinegar running down my face coincided with the burial practices of my Ashkenazi ancestors. I have a few hunches about why it was that experience itself, but today while I put books in my shopping basket suggested by Rabbi David Steinberg, I realized how expensive this is going to be for me as someone with disabilities.

I'm hoping to get a scholarship for the program of courses he suggested to me for Reform Judaism; however, if this is not the case, I may have additional bills as I work out a payment plan. The books suggested are around $250-$300 altogether while the class is $595 for the complete course of study.

I am trying not to put the cart before the horse, but this is potentially in pursuit of conversion. But I will not know for sure until I complete my studies while I continue my spirit work, prayer and contemplation practices with my ancestors. If I do not convert, I will donate all the books to the local library in case anyone in a similar situation would require these resources.

In order to cover these costs, I will be opening up donation-based tarot consultations for anyone with a good heart and a little extra spending money. I generally charge $60 per hour, but I am willing to pay forward the blessings my ancestors have bestowed upon me with a pay-what-you-can opportunity. If you are unable to contribute or would like to simply boost visibly, please feel free to share. For those of you not connected with me via Facebook or Discord, please send an e-mail detailing the question or life area you would like to cover in your reading, along with receipt of your payment. Otherwise, you can send the same information over the aforementioned social media platforms. My contact information can be found alongside my PayPal profile, which can be found HERE.

UPDATE: NEW FUNDRAISING GOAL

I have been able to sign up for the aforementioned class with a scholarship, and so the only funds I need to acquire include about $80 for required reading materials! I am still doing donation-based readings, so if you would like to help me acquire my books check out the link to my PayPal above!

#spirit work #personal #judaism #studies #donate if you can #please donate

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pinkchaosstories · 1 year

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Blood and Thorns - Chapter 1 (part 1)

Chapter 1 (Part One): Chores and Nightmares (See here for a complete list of chapters) **Updated May 16 **Updated August 26

Frigga Thorneheart is set to become the heir of the Honeyshore coven, but when she falls in love with a member of her home's staff, things get out of hand. Between the blood pacts and secret affairs, Frigga needs to learn how to stand up for what she wants or else lose everything she needs. Will she choose love or duty and what will that choice cost her?

Razi

If there was one thing Razi Wood was sure of it was that rich people were the worst, especially if those rich people were witches. She would know because Honeyshore, the breezy port town in which she lived and worked, was full of them. It sat on the Ozelean coast and, as a port town that hosted a nationally respected coven, was a hub of trade and immigration. A mere week previous had seen the last of the rainy season, so today saw Honeyshore bustling and as lively as it ever was with ships coming into port with exotic goods and merchants selling local wares in the town square markets. Razi, a strapping young woman of five and twenty, ducked through the crowds as she rushed towards her first destination of the day. If she’d paused to respectfully watch a pair of young women with their laundry baskets perched on their gods-granted shapely hips, she could hardly be blamed. It was rare she got to mingle in town during the daytime as she was usually busy back at the manor doing groundwork or repair work of some kind, but today? Today she had been asked to pick up a number of goods for her employer, Lady Sapphire Thorneheart, and Razi was going to make the most of it. First thing first: Angela. Or rather, the dressmaker’s.

She dodged a horse and carriage and stepped into the small shop, her well-loved work boots clomping against its tile, and a little bell jangled to announce her entry. “Good mornin’, Angela!” she greeted with a small smirk tugging at her full lips, the one she knew made all her girls swoon. “Fancy meeting you here!” The blonde woman behind the counter looked up from her work, some kind of embroidery, and greeted Razi with a grin. “Good morning to you too, tall, dark and handsome! Here for the Thornehearts?” Bolts of fabric and miscellaneous goods imported from distant cities surrounded her, but she in all her pink skirts and painted red lips was the only thing in the shop Razi had any personal interest in. She leaned her elbow on the counter and pressed her calloused index to the pretty woman’s chin, dropping her voice to a low hum. “You’re so smart, how’d you guess?” Angela rolled her eyes fondly and retreated. “Hang on,” she commanded before disappearing into the back. The quiet store was a miniature version of the port; brightly lit, rustic stone walls and floors, and a hint of magic lingering about it; A needle darned socks independently in the back corner, glowing orbs the size of dinner plates floated throughout the room to light it, and the scent of baked apple pie floated delicately in the air. It was as old as the other buildings of Honeyshore, but it never seemed to leak during the stormy season. Razi wandered near a window and spied a rag wiping down glass panes in the tiny flower shop across the street. “Gotta get me one of those,” she muttered to herself before calling out, “Oi, Angie, your neighbours got new magic stuff?” “What?” was the confused reply, muffled by the thick velvet curtain separating the store from the back room. “Your neighbour’s got a rag doing boring stuff for ‘em. It new?” “Oh, that!” Angela said as she strained with something heavy. “Madam Downspire’s sent all the stores on the block some of those to test out. What d’you need a magic rag for?” “Would rather do more interestin’ tasks, you know? I’d rather fix a leaky faucet or run errands than wipe a window. Might as well outsource to a magic item an’ save myself th’ elbow grease.” Angela returned with two packages and hoisted them onto the counter with a grunt. One of the packages was a soft bundle wrapped in brown butcher paper and tied up with twine, the other was a sturdy black paper box with a removable red lid. “Is ‘running errands’ your fancy way of sayin’ ‘flirting with girls’? Where are you going next, the bakery or the winery?” Razi flopped onto a chair across the room. “Gotta do my part, spread my good will an’ support th’ economy! Can’t disappoint Darcie and Liz, don’ be selfish.” The seamstress grinned, made her way to her guest, and seized the opportunity to plop herself down in the muscular woman’s lap. “You’re so full of it.” She playfully touched a finger to Razi’s nose and stuck out her tongue. “Will I see you Friday night? At the pub?” She ran her hands through Razi’s short black hair, scratching at her buzzed sides. Razi preened and let her hand play at Angela’s skirt hem while locking eyes with the woman in her lap. “Y’know I wouldn’t miss it, darlin’, not if it means missin’ out on you.” Angela shook her head. “Charmer,” she was about to place a quick kiss on Razi’s cheek, but the groundswoman inched away. “Nah, don’ want that,” she gestured to Angela’s lip paint, “all o’er my face. That stuff can’t be good for you.” “I think you’d look good with a bit,” Angela teased. Razi snorted. “You wan’ dress me up in your frocks too? Think it’d suit me?” She draped the woman’s pink skirt across her own knees, clothed in worn black canvas trousers tucked into steel-toed work boots, to demonstrate how entirely ridiculous the idea was. “I don’t think this one’s your colour, Raza, and I don’t think my dress would fit you either, your arms are so…” She ran one of her hands over Razi’s dark, sculpted biceps. “But I’ll make you a matching suit, if you’d like.” That sounded more up Razi’s alley. “Could do. I’ll need a suit for our weddin’, right?” “Asking me to marry you again, Raza? What is that, the third time this month?” Angela giggled and placed a quick kiss on Razi’s lips before the woman could protest and stood to drop the packages in her lap. “But about Friday,” she said as she wandered back to her embroidery work behind the wooden counter. “You better come.” Razi wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and wiped it on her trousers. Why had she opted for sleeveless today? And where was her kerchief? Angela always pulled that trick, Razi should have seen it coming. “S’that why you want me hikin’ all th’ way down that hill? Could’a jus’ said so, you know I’ll come for you any time.” “You’re terrible,” Angela reproofed with a scoff but her eyes settled squarely on Razi’s broad hands. Razi stood up, gathered up her packages under one arm, and rested them on her hip. “I’ll be there, Bill owes me a drink.” “Didn’t you cheat him out of it, Raza?” “I would never.” “Bullshit! What would Lady Thorneheart say?” “I don’ think she cares ‘bout us wee plebs, darlin’. ’S long as there’s bread on th’ table and her carriage goes, I’ll be in ‘er good books.” The pair laughed and said their goodbyes, and Angela made Razi promise again to make an appearance on Friday. That kind of ego stroke was addictive, but Razi knew when to back off. After all, she still had Darcie and Elizabeth and Maria to visit. As she made her way through the streets, Razi wove in and out of the foot traffic, occasionally avoiding a carriage or wagon. There was more commotion than usual with the Thorneheart Heir Apparent returning home from school after three years. Or was it four? Sapphire Thorneheart had spared no expense to prepare her home for her Heir Apparent’s return which had meant new landscaping, new furnishings, a whole new wardrobe for her niece, even some of the books in the family library got re-bound several months ago. Some of those coven books were over a hundred years old and had curses on them. It was a lot of trouble for a journal, but it was a central piece of the coven’s history. Razi remembered the tirade Lady Thorneheart had assaulted the craftspeople with, and it still gave her the shivers. Luckily, Razi didn’t have to directly interact with her employer often, but when she did it was a humbling experience. She was intimidating as hell, even if she was never anything but gracious to her own staff. Usually, she gave her orders to Gertrude, the household manager, who would distribute the tasks and chores for the day. Razi was usually in the kitchens or on the grounds, those broad shoulders of hers weren’t merely for show after all, and her occasional trips into town to run errands were always a nice change of pace. Working for rich witches had its benefits, she had to admit. Razi rushed past store windows and fruit stands, dipping into the bakery to drop off next week’s order of grains and stopping by the winemaker’s to convey Lady Thorneheart’s request for the custom blend for the next full moon, before coming to her final and favourite stop, the pub. Normally she’d visit in the evenings, but today she was here on business. Passing through the well-worn door, the bell and squeaky floorboards announced her arrival. The man behind the hardwood bar waved at her as he wiped the surface with a rag. He was an older gentleman, greying and homely, and he’d run the Mead and Magic Pub for thirty years, almost as long as Sapphire Thorneheart had been the coven’s leader. “Hey Wood,” he barked with his affectionately gruff voice, “here for the Thorneheart’s?” A few men in the pub greeted Razi enthusiastically, and she nodded in their direction. “Hey boys. Hi Geoff. Yeah, I’m here for th’ thing, you got it?” Geoff pulled out a small box from under the counter. “Yeah, it’s for the lady, for the next coven meet I hear. Hey, isn’t her niece comin’ back today?” Razi nodded, sliding up to the bar, setting her burden on the counter. “Yeah, but not clear what the fuss is about, honestly. Just another silk-stockin’, I imagine. But hey, work’s work, right? “For sure,” the man nodded solemnly. “What’s the girls name? Ferdinand? Faloma?” “Frigga, I think.” “Ah yeah, tha’s right, I remember her. She was sweet as silk that girl.” “That’s not the saying, Geoff.” The man laughed and Razi snickered along with him. “Got me there.” Razi shrugged. “They’re all fine ’til you get to know ‘em, tha’s when you find out what kinda asshole they are. They’re all assholes at the end of the day, am I right?” She gestured to the other patrons, rewarded with a “hear, hear” and a “cheers” along with some wolf whistling and Razi chuckled before turning back to Geoff victoriously. “Assholes what pay you,” Geoff said with his tone of friendly disapproval, “and half of town.” Razi deadpanned at him. “The ol’ lady made me fix th’ carriage after tha’ last rain. Downright nasty, should be gettin’ a raise, mark my words. And I had to redo the hedges that got put in las’ month that I was so sure was right, but no, ‘parently not. Those lavender bushes were gorgeous so I’m bit bitter about it, gimme a break.” He nodded with sage understanding. “Fair, fair. Anyway, Wood, can we expect y’on Friday? George and the other guys were saying they wanted to do poker night again.” “After last time I’da thought they’d reconsider.” “You know George, never knows when t’ quit.” “William owes me, I think Jack does too. I’m not gon’ make it home in one piece, I think. I’ll have t’ sleep under the table I’ll be so sloshed.” Razi winced at the prospect of making the twenty minute uphill walk in such a sorry state. She’d do it if only to prove a point, but she wouldn’t enjoy it. “You comin’?” Razi sighed and made a big show of it. “Yeah, I guess. Angela’s already demanded I make an appearance.” The man’s expression turned soft and his voice did too. “Never could say no t’ that woman, eh? You ever gon’ marry her?” Razi shrugged and rolled her eyes at the old man’s presumption. “Nah, but she’s sweet on me, so I can’t jus’ break her heart, right?” “Hers an ev’ry other single lass of your persuasion in town, Wood.” He chuckled lightly and then playfully waved his rag in her direction. “Off with ye, shouldn’t be late for homecomin’.” Razi added the last package to her bundle, grinning at his remark. “Thanks a lot, see you Friday!” She walked to Thorneheart Manor from town, and her arms tired from hauling her goods. That was her own fault; she’d declined a ride in the house’s carriage earlier, opting to take her time and enjoy some peace and quiet on the walks to and from. This time of year after the rains was the best; the green fields burst with wildflowers, a crisp breeze swept in from the sea, and it was warm enough that Razi didn’t need to bother herself with layers. She even left her regular work jacket at home, this morning had been particularly warm and Razi was soaking it up. It wasn’t long before she returned to Thorneheart Manor, the estate where she worked and lived. The home was one of the largest in Honeyshore, save for the coven’s benefactors. Most of the coven’s nine families lived in town, but the Thornehearts lived just outside it in exactly the type of home that befit such a powerful family. The house itself was three stories high, made of the white stone that only the best-made buildings in town were made of, and was surrounded by fields, walks and ponds with a forest bordering the property. Inside, the walls were white as were the marble floors, and the many large windows ensured the home was always brightly lit. The lady of the house had bouquets of flowers brought in to adorn every surface, so now it smelled like spring inside as well as out. Frigga’s room had been redone too, updated with new linens and furniture. She hadn’t been there for nearly four years and would be an official adult at the end of next month. It needed to be fit for someone on who so many expectations would be placed. Apparently. What that had to do with the wallpaper getting updated, Razi wasn’t sure. “Something something, only the best for my Heir, something or other, Frigga will love it,” the old lady had said. Whatever. Razi had been on staff before Frigga had gone away to school, but she hadn’t interacted with the heiress at all. The girl was a bookworm, opting to stay in the library most afternoons, and Razi had always been in the kitchen at the time. She didn’t expect that to change; Razi had since graduated from the kitchens to the grounds for the most part and, as far as she could tell, being a scholar was a prerequisite for these witches so Frigga likely wouldn’t be outside much. Razi hadn’t made up her mind to dislike the girl (woman? How old was she?), but in her own experience the more magic met money, the larger the stick up the ass was. Thankfully, Razi didn’t have to mingle with the family much being the work horse so she could focus on her chores and her own business. It was good money and a stable life, so if she was serving bread to some spoiled witches it wouldn’t affect her sleep at night. Not that she wasn’t a little curious. Clearly Razi was not immune to the guile of a pretty girl, so there was that, but she wasn’t as enthusiastic as most of the other ladies on staff. Gertrude was ecstatic about Frigga’s return and would go on and on about how she was excited to see how the girl had grown into a woman and whatever. She was expected home that afternoon, maybe even within the hour, which meant the servants of the home were scrambling to get the place ready to welcome their newest resident back home. When Razi returned with her parcels, the house was bustling with last-minute preparations being completed and it sparked her curiosity. It might be interesting to have another person around, even if it wasn’t likely to affect her much. Maybe her presence would tame Doris’ rabid gossiping and give that ridiculous woman something to do, that would be worth the added work on its own. But probably not, the woman was a menace. She dropped off the packages to their respective recipients before making her way into the kitchen. Razi would be off work in a few hours, she always worked the early morning shift for bread reasons, and she would spend the rest of her day getting the family dinner together and dealing with kitchen inventory if there wasn’t any major tasks to be done. Just another ordinary day. Would the returning witch want tea? That was more Doris’ responsibility, but Razi put a kettle on to boil anyway. As she carried out her inventory survey, the distant sound of a carriage rattled and excited whispers shivered through the house. Gertrude and Doris bolted out of the kitchen at speeds previously unseen to greet the newest addition. It wasn’t mandatory for staff to greet Frigga, but curiosity got the better of Razi so off she went to sneak a peek at all the commotion. Maybe she was cute. The kitchen was tucked near to the main entrance and staircase, and Razi leaned on the kitchen’s doorframe to see what she wanted but stayed out of the chaos. Doris and Gertrude stood alongside a few other staff members at the foot of the staircase, chatting quietly amongst themselves. The door opened, and Frigga was home. She was a lot shorter than Razi had expected, hadn’t grown a single inch during her time away, and was full around the centre with narrow shoulders. Her fiery curls were tucked into a practical yet elegant braid behind her, her charming smile lit up her rosy freckled skin, and she giggled as Gertrude attacked her with hugs. She was pretty tired, travelling does that Razi supposed, but even so Frigga asked about Gertrude’s husband and daughter and after Stephan’s cat. It was nice to see a noble remember such details about staff members as it was rare aristocrats gave a shit about anything other than themselves. Razi could see what the fuss was about then. Frigga seemed sweet, and she was pretty cute, but the groundswoman had enough excitement so she silently returned to the kitchen. That pantry wasn’t going to count itself.

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westywrites · 1 year

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Essence of Stars (book one) - Prologue

I've been debating posting an updated version of the prologue for a while now. So here it is in all its poetic prose glory!

In the dim light of the nearing dawn, blue-tinged shadows cast solemn hope between the graves. A raven settles on the thatched roof of the preacher’s house. Behind it, the sky is the colour of a bruise that might never heal. Silence lies heavy. The church bell is still hours from ringing its joyous call to wake the village. A town dying along with their rotten crops.

The raven watches.

Hope is as rare this season as a day without rain. But still, the sun pushes slowly over the horizon turning blue-black to blue-grey. Black feathers shine in this light; the raven’s call could be heard across town if anyone were listening. No one is listening. The bird peers over the edge of the roof.

It waits.

At long last, the silence is broken by a murmuring. Movement inside the house of the preacher, up with the sun. Movement on the porch from something small, a basket, a bundle of blankets. A soft cry and round blue eyes looking up at the raven. It tilts its head and the infant smiles. This time, the raven’s call is answered with an open door. The raven takes wing, its secrets flying with it, as the preacher of Cambridge township carries a new life across the cemetery.

. . .

At the edge of a city, the sun shines golden rays that catch in thick smoke. The factories are busy on such an afternoon. They are busy every afternoon. Progress is in the air. A wagon beats broken wheels on the rutted road to the city. The horses slow at the gentle command of their owner, a command in a foreign tongue. Guards stand watch over the trading route. On their outpost, a raven cleans its feathers, idle, unworried. It lifts its head slowly as the wagon approaches.

It watches.

On the back of the wagon, among items to trade, sits a woman with a child on her lap. Age weighs the woman’s face, masking her sorrow. The child babbles, playing with items that he will never own. Items meant to be traded away. Hushing the boy, the woman smiles at the guards as they inspect her wares. The child’s small, dark eyebrows push together. The smile does not reach his grandmother’s eyes. Above them, the raven crows softly. Kindness is not common among the Queen’s guard, the Koninwacht. Least of all to those who speak in foreign tongues.

The raven waits.

Too young to understand, too young to remember, the boy smiles as the old man at the reins points to him among the goods. A black feather floats down and the child grabs for it, thin eyes drawn up to the bird. It caws softly again and the grandmother looks, shielding the boy away from the raven with a shame-filled glare. Families must do what it takes to survive. To protect their future.

The wagon is waved into the city. Knowledge carries the bird into the sky. Knowledge and secrets as numerous as its feathers.

. . .

Smoke-filled skies and soot-filled streets welcome a weary wanderer of the city. None of it is natural. The product of progress. Progress for a great many and misery for a great many more. The raven flies from roof to roof, searching. Narrow alleys and twisting roads block its view. Houses shrink into shacks near the foot of the factory hill. Men, women, children sleep on the cold, hard ground. Sleep where they eat, eat where they piss. Owning nothing more than the shirts on their backs and a list of diseases they pray won’t kill them. The city is not awake yet.

The raven watches.

The raven waits.

A boy walks beside his father, tired as he has been every day of his short life. The man pockets a bag of coins, an explanation. He coughs and the boy understands. He understands more than he should for his age. The raven follows from above as the boy continues on alone. Follows as the boy starts to climb the hill. Smokestacks loom high above, blocking the rising sun. The raven caws and the boy’s step falters. He looks at the bird, fear and determination on his round face. That boy will do what he must to survive. That boy will make tragedy into triumph.

The raven knows.

The boy approaches the factory door alone. The raven keeps its secrets.

. . .

Silvery flakes drift downward, glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon. The raven soars, feathers shining obsidian. In the distance, smoke lurks above treetops, a hulking beast, an immaterial fear. The black bird settles on a branch. Thin wood quivering under its gentle weight.

It watches.

The forest is quiet. So quiet the drifting flakes can almost be heard as they land on leaves and gnarled roots. Feathers rustle as the black bird shakes fallen stars from its back. Under the light of the moon, the raven’s eyes glint and its beak shines sharp.

It waits.

Smoke curls higher now. The stars above fade, choked out and dampened. If there were eyes to see, they would water. If there were noses to smell, they would burn. The smoke glows, reflecting orange and gold like the harvest moon above. Shifting on the branch, the raven preens.

It does not feel.

The settlement lays smouldering. Something terrible happened here. This camp, this village, this home. Tragedy on tragedy buried beneath snapped structures, smoldering skins, burnt log walls. Once home, now embers. There are no roaring flames. Not anymore. The time for ferocity is gone. The raven sits in the tree, high above the coals. Coals that once were everything to a wife, a daughter, and a baby girl. Coals that are as black as the black bird’s wing, save for the last winking red eyes of heat. Cold air bites back. The raven watches as something moves in the skeleton homes.

It knows.

The movement draws nearer to the raven’s tree. A gentle whimper and a tilt of the black bird’s head. A miracle. The little girl kneels among the roots. Dark eyes catching dark eyes. Her eyes are a plea. The raven makes no response. A little girl, a miracle. A lost daughter abandoned in a world burnt to the ground in the dead of night. Her nightgown, once white, is streaked with soot. Silvery flakes cling to her dark hair. She is young. Round cheeks dark in the bright light of the harvest moon. She is not too young to remember. To remember the night her home died. She will remember the eyes of the black bird with feathers shining obsidian. They stare. Girl and bird.

There is nothing but silence.

Silence and the gentle caw of the raven as it again takes wing. Disappearing beyond the fallen ash and tears. It keeps its secrets once more.

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Taglist: @undrthesummerstars @ratracechronicler @leonajasmin-writeblr @frenchy-and-the-sea @rho-nin @starlitesymphony @written-by-yours-truly

If you’d like to be tagged in (admittedly infrequent) updates about this WIP - including mood boards, excerpts, and worldbuilding - please let me know, and I’ll add you to the list!

I'm also going to tag @aninkwellofnectar and @pinespittinink because you expressed interest in the more poetic prose excerpts in a recent tag game post!

#west's words #writeblr #amwriting #creative writing #writers of tumblr #the corvine #the word of the raven #no obligation to read for those i've tagged of course #just if you're interested #the prologue leans heavily into this really poetic style #that then reappears throughout the book #i really love writing stuff like this #for a long time i thought i was eventually going to cut this prologue #but it's been sticking around draft after draft #and my alpha readers have all seemed to actually like it as a start to the story #so it makes me very happy #it's a fun way to communicate backstory for the main characters without the readers knowing what exactly it is until later on #at least i hope #also am I posting this at 10:30 pm? yes #i don't care enough to try to decide when else to schedule it for

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nancypullen · 1 year

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Getting a Grip

So I told you I’d been doing a lot of thinking (did anyone smell feathers burning?) , but what I actually did was give myself a good talking to. I needed it. I started this blog in 2008 and to used to be such a fun, positive, entertaining space. I was really proud that my itty bitty corner of the internet was sunshine and cookies. I always hoped that by sharing my silliness I was skipping through the world with a basket of smiles and handing them out to whoever needed them. Then.....menopause and Trump came into my life. I feel like I’ve been ticked off since 2016. I spent years firing off letters to elected officials, composing nasty tweets to answer the crazy MAGA crowd, and watching people I know happily and willingly fall victim to liars and grifters. While our country was burning my hormones were playing dodge ball - BAM! You’re hot! BAM! You’re freezing. Bam! Everything irritates you! BAM! You love everyone! I’ve never been one who suffered from mood swings, never suffered much of anything really. And if I did, I could see the humor in it and give it a positive spin. I was and am generally a happy person. I was dealing with all of it....then the pandemic hit. Good grief. What we thought might last a month or two lingered and lingered. Vacations were canceled, we were all isolated, and far, far worse - we lost friends and family to an awful virus. The same people who fell in with the grifter-in-chief decided that the medical community was one big conspiracy factory and refused to stay home, refused to mask, refused to get vaccinated, and numbers kept soaring. Thank goodness we now have proven treatments, more people are vaccinated (no, it doesn’t prevent COVID, but like your flu shot can prevent a severe case and hopefully keep you out of the hospital), and there might be a light at the end of the tunnel...someday. So, country on fire, hormones all over the place, pandemic - hey, we should sell our house. OHMYGAWD. I’d been the one making noise about moving for years. YEARS. Then suddenly the mister decides NOW is the time, and in the blink of an eye we were closing the door to our Mt. Juliet house for the last time. We moved and I have been unsettled ever since. I started feeling guilty because I wasn’t happy here. After all, it was me that wanted to leave Tennessee. But we didn’t move to the prairie, or to a little New England village, we moved to a part of the country where we’d spent a grand total of about four days. We wanted our grandgirl to know us, we wanted her to have some family nearby, we wanted to see her grow up and not just get glimpses on FaceTime and brief visits. So I still feel that we did the right thing. But I blew my life up in exchange for that. I left behind the dearest friends of my life. I left behind a patch of paradise that had taken me over twenty years to cultivate. Every flowering tree and shrub perfectly positioned to be enjoyed inside and out, a field behind the house that provided glorious sunsets nightly and bird song and deer visitors daily. We won’t even talk about the conveniences we left behind. Everything from our choice of well-stocked grocery stores to my doctor, dentist, and mammogram in one building just 4 miles from home. And can we talk about the drive to our house in Mt. Juliet? Beautiful. Passing ponds and pastures, horses, mama cows and new calves, it was soothing. So...you understand that I was missing the world I’d created there, and some of the stuff that I didn’t create but appreciated. We’d spent time and money updating the Mt. Juliet house, I’m not surprised the new owners fell in love with it right away. So it was a big pill to swallow when I saw this house and its outdated bathrooms, kitchen, etc. Time and money will also make this house pretty, but I felt like it set us back twenty years. Know what’ll take your mind off of that sort of thing? COVID. Yep, after two years of being careful I moved here and COVID walked right in the front door. Three of us had it, Mickey, Matt and me. The Edgewater gang escaped it. It wasn’t fun. Mickey and Matt seemed to breeze through it, I had it a little rough. I wonder if it was because I was the only one with the J&J vaccine? Anywho, I got over it. Then I got a rebound case. Good times. I honestly didn’t feel like myself for at least another month. Fast forward to the recent surprise of a kidney stone, the removal, and all of that gross stuff and I feel that out of the eight months we’ve been here, I haven’t felt great for a big chunk of that time. So, world on fire, menopause, pandemic, big move and loss (sprinkle some guilt on top of that for feeling ungrateful), illness times two, is it any wonder that I’m not feeling like my normal, chirpy, chipper self? Honestly, I’m proud of myself for not being behind bars. I should add to the list that I am Mickey’s cheerleader, therapist, and jester. When he is stressed at work, mad about work, worried about work I listen, advise, cheer him up, and just absorb all of that negativity. I felt an enormous amount of guilt recently - after Christmas I had the grandgirl here for a few days, Matt was also here and I was busy, busy, busy keeping a four year old alive and putting three meals a day on the table for a crowd and cleaning up after a crowd. Mickey asked if I’d proofread something for work, I’ve done that plenty in the past (don’t gauge my skills by this blog). I had about three plates spinning at the time and told him to print it out for me and I’d read it at bedtime. He did and then I forgot all about it. Worst wife in the world. World on fire, hormones, pandemic, big move and loss, illness times two, negativity ,and guilt. All of that came together in a perfect storm and made me (I hate to even say it) an unhappy camper. This just isn’t me. I don’t want to be this person! So I’m determined to fix it. That’s what I do. I fix things and mend people. I’ve mended myself more times than I can count, so I can do it again. Starting today I am focusing on positives. As far as politics, I can’t bury my head in the sand but I can roll back my emotional response and still stay informed and active. Let me share with you a quote that has helped me immensely: “When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it–always.” ~ Mahatma Gandhi It’s true. I can’t change the minds of crazy people or keep people from lying, but I can continue to champion for good. This house isn’t perfect, but oh, it is filled with love and laughter. How lucky am I? I will always miss my friends, but aren’t we fortunate that we can email, FaceTime, and even squeeze in visits? It wasn’t always that easy. I plan to get more involved with the thriving art community here and hopefully meet some lovely people. I will always miss my peaceful patch on Olivia Court. We don’t have deer grazing in our backyard, but we do have a little girl who refers to her blow-up pool in our yard as Mermaid Lagoon. I can create a beautiful sanctuary here - it’s just going to take a lot of work. As for illness, I’m a firm believer that stress and sorrow can make us sick. I’ve let the last few years wear me down and I intend to remedy that. Maybe part of it is age - though I didn’t think 59 qualified as decrepit. I am tired, but I think a morning walk every day in Martinak State Park will revive me. It will do double duty, providing exercise as well as the nature and bird song I’ve been missing. I’m tossing out the guilt because we’re allowed to feel the way we feel. I’m not perfect and I don’t know a single perfect person. I know myself well enough to know that I will conquer this glum feeling. I’m unsinkable. This time next year I’ll check the archives of this blog and say, “See? You made it!” If you’ve made it this far in my public pity party, give yourself a cookie. This has been my long-winded and scattered attempt at an explanation and an apology for the lack of fun content here. Feel free to click on the archives tab and choose any year and month for more entertaining reading. I’m turning the corner on the final lap of this wild ride. I’m asking the universe to throw me a bone. I am remembering to be deeply, deeply grateful for everything that is making my life beautiful and letting go of what isn’t. 2023 is a year for blooming.

Thanks for letting me purge. I’ll be back tomorrow to post pics from my walk at the park (pretty state park that’s just over two miles from the house) and that chicken soup recipe that I promised weeks ago. Sending out loads of love tonight. Grab some if you need it. Stay safe, stay well, be good to yourself.

Nancy

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ultraericthered · 1 year

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Anime Update V2 34

Wolf’s Rain - You know shit’s hit the fan when the guy we thought was getting set up as the main villain gets offed at the start of the episode. Yeah, Lord Orkham got assasinated by the forces of the as of now unseen Lady Jaguara, and Hubb Lebewski, who was taken captive by the late noble’s forces, is now on the run, while his ex-wife is still held captive by our other main antagonist, Lord Darcia. And oh man, Darcia shows just how scary and efficient he is here, and by the end has Cheza back in his possession and has thwarted the four main wolves on what could’ve bene a clear pathway to Paradise.

Hunter x Hunter - Caught up to the second anime’s version of where the first anime ended, and then Chrollo used the fortune-telling ability he stole from Neon to read the futures of all Troupe members while Kurapika finally recieves Hisoka’s text message that the Spiders aren’t really dead. And so we’re approaching this arc’s real ending!

Fruits Basket - The episode that introduced Rin Sohma, the Zodiac horse who unfortunately does not meet our main characters this time and doesn’t even transform. The episode was mostly about how Hatsuharu was dealing with his and Rin’s breakup, and how his angst and potential danger to even his loved ones is paralleled with Kyo. Yuki also resolves to return to the Sohma family estate to visit Haru, which took a whole lot of courage and maturity on his part.

Rozen Maiden - My fears were confirmed - “middle school Jun” who has been communicating with adult Jun is not really middle school Jun, but Kirakishou decieving adult Jun into making a body for her. The real middle school Jun is trapped in another realm with Canaria and has been recieving adult Jun’s replies to things he never sent him to begin with! The one character who catches onto what’s really going on here is Suigintou, who of course proceeds to not alert Jun or Shinku to this because she wants to fight Kirakishou when she emerges so that she may claim her Rozen Mystica, oh you evil little shit! This is “Vegeta allows Cell to reach his Perfect form” stuff here!

Fate Zero - Not much in the way of plot advancement this week, just more solid interactions between Saber and Irisveil, and between Gilgamesh and Kirei, who continue to provide some of the best stuff.

Revolutionary Girl Utena - 'Twas the series finale, what all can I really say about it? It was trippy and mind-blowing and eye-opening and heatwrenching and inspiring and...well, revolutionary! And I just loved the conclusion it came to. The Rose Bride/”princess” role truly is worthless to the girl who has it and only benefits the Prince, the “Prince” role itself is toxic and ultimately incapable of breaking through the Rose Gate, Anthy’s lack of self worth and internalized sexism failed her as much as Utena’s own wrong-headed idealism and aspirations to be a Prince failed her, what actually saves Anthy is Utena reaching out to her not as a Prince trying to save the damsel in distress, but as herself believing in her friend, as one young woman in need to another - one lover to another, as their hearts and hands connect. And getting to see Akio get exactly what he deserved twice was so damn satisfying. In the end, Utena did bring the world revolution, but not in the way Akio had ever understood or intended. Everyone’s own “world” is now in revolution, the Rose Bride is slave no more, and Utena is out there somewhere, waiting to be found...

Senki Zesshou Symphogear - The last thing I’d been expecting after last episode was Chris getting taken to Miku’s house and becoming her new friend, that was so sweet! And seeing Chris step up to protect Miku and other civilians put in danger from the Noise attack, Genjuro coming in to protect Chris (who takes off afterwards), Miku taking action to protect others including her estranged friend Hibiki, and of course, Hibiki coming to her rescue as the two of them rekindle their beautiful friendship afterwards. The OTP sails again!

AMC: Tengen Tonpa Gurren Lagann - Got to episode 5, which introduces characters that aren’t exactly favorites of mine, but had a central conflict that was interesting enough to hold my attention the whole way through. Kamina immediatey hating on the high priest due to him reminding of his old villages leader was hilarious, and while he’s left unable to really understand the ways of this village, he turns out to not be entirely off the mark - the high priest essentially is just the village leader disguised by religious doctrine and beliefs he doesn’t truly hold dear. By far the weakest part of the episode was the fight. I could barely make it out, the lighting was so dark and dull!

AND

Akudama Drive - Had to watch this in addition since I’d have no room for it anywhere later in the time remaining of this year. And yeah, I’ve certainly reached the halfway point of this one cours anime. I know this ‘cause main charactes have begun to fucking die!

#Anime Update #Anime Update V2

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shop-cailey · 3 months

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dwnlbold880 · 2 years

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whistlebell · 2 years

Text

Honeycomb Mod List 🍯

hello! i finally had enough time to finish up my mod list! here’s the list of all the major mods i used for my overgrown farm video ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♡

if you’re having trouble finding a particular mod from this list, I suggest using Ctrl+F to get through the list easier! ^^ Also, since a lot of the mods here are from the Stardew Valley Cafe in Naver, you will need a Naver account to be able to access and download them. There’s a handy tutorial here if you need help.

credits to the incredible authors and mod makers from nexus and naver behind these beautiful mods and retextures! (੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭

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untaemedqueen · 3 years

Text

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 5.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage

A/N: Shout out to my squad @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @underthejoon for always spitballing ideas with me and reading over what I have written. I’m seriously so lucky to have my girls and my heart is so full with them around <3

Also the beautiful banner is by @xjoonchildx so now we have two gorgeous banners to alternate every other chapter! I’m so happyyyyyy!! Enjoy guys!

It's usually relaxed Sundays at the Yu penthouse like God intended them to be but instead this Sunday was filled with raucous screaming and over dramatic whining which you aren't exactly used to.

"Leena." Jin warns, almost as if he's speaking to a child.

You watch as your best friend takes the stuffed animal you won at the Fall Festival out of it's cardboard box before chucking it back onto your unmade bed. It's her act of defiance and it warms your heart slightly to know how much she loves you.

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"No." She huffs out as she folds her arms.

You find yourself smirking as you wrap your arms around her. She stiffens slightly before melting into the hug and rocking you from side to side.

"I hate him. I hate him. I hate him!" She chants bitterly as Jin sets the painting against the wall.

"Why don't you tell us about your date with Taehyung?" Jin offers, trying to take her mind off of it.

"No." She replies childishly as she hugs you tighter.

Jin sighs gently as he picks up the contract. It's a thick packet with words and legal jargon you find yourself unable to understand.

"I'm going to go read this in the living room. Leena, come with me." Jin commands and she pouts at you as she pulls away.

"At least he bought her pretty things." She grumbles to your other best friend as she follows him out of your bedroom.

You sit on the edge of your bed, taking in the almost empty room. Your heart feels heavy in this moment. It's been almost six years since you moved into this apartment with Leena.

This new journey will be the start to something extremely different from your norm. This will be the first time that you won't be seeing your best friend everyday, or when you wake up in the morning. It's jarring and more importantly frightening.

You had already quit your managerial position at the hospital, you've already packed up all of the things deemed "acceptable" for Yoongi's home. It really is a new path for your life.

Your parents loved you so very dearly from when you were quite young. They always knew what to say and what to do, always pushed for you to do the right things quite like them. They worked so hard for you to have a better life than they did when they were young.

You can only hope to be as good of a parent as they were.

Telling them you were pregnant was terrifying at first. You expected them to be disappointed with you. But, surprisingly, they were supportive. It was incredibly comforting, because no matter what happens you could count on them.

Looking down at your flat stomach, although you don't look different, you feel different. With a sigh, you close your eyes for a fraction of a second before taking in a deep breath.

Everyone keeps telling you to be strong, to have strength and everything will work out but unfortunately it isn't that easy.

"Hey Y/N." Jin whispers as he leans against the door frame.

Opening your eyes, you give him a smile to try and tell him you're alright.

"The contract looks good. Namjoon did right by you." He tells you, holding up the packet and a pen.

You hold your hands out and he enters the room.

You can hear Leena's feet stomping down the long hallway as you put the packet on your lap.

She arrives in the doorway with a martini in hand and you tilt your head to her as she scowls.

"You can't have sex? Is he serious?" She scoffs.

You give a smirk as you sign the contract, "Seems like it. I asked him if I could have sex with him because he's the father and he sat there and literally told me he doesn't understand why I would have sex if I'm pregnant. He seemed repulsed."

"I'll punch him in the dick." Leena murmurs into her martini glass.

"Yu Leena." Jin scolds as you set the pen down on your lap.

"What?! He's a huge fucking dick suck." She says waving him off with her hand.

Both you and Jin snort loudly and he lays his head on your shoulder before hugging you tightly.

"I'm gonna miss you, princess." He whispers.

"Me too." You mumble as you wrap your arms around his.

"Shouldn't you let the madam buy the child's furniture?" Yoongi hears Maya ask over his shoulder as he scours through the furniture website.

"If her ability to pick out furniture is as bad as her clothing or her shoes, my heir will end up sleeping in a rickety old basket made out of straw and hair." He retorts as she hands him his Irish coffee.

He hears her gentle sigh and he knows it's because somehow, something he said had disappointed her.

"What's wrong, Maya?" He asks as he locks the iPad, throwing it on the other side of the couch to look up at her.

She hums undecidedly before looking down at him as he sips his coffee, "Maybe try to be nice to her. She's going to have a hard time being pregnant in this household with your wife here."

Her suggestion makes a shiver run up his spine. Just hearing the word pregnant sends him into some deep spiral.

Maya always has been kind hearted. She's always been understanding of others. Even if they don't deserve it.

Like with Sera, Maya will bust her ass to try to make the leech smile even if she gets sneers and snarky remarks in turn.

She's too pure for this world. Too amazing for this cheap lifestyle.

"I am being nice to her. She gets to move in here." He responds as he sets the coffee cup down on his marble table.

“Min Yoongi.” Maya breathes out above a whisper before closing her eyes.

He watches her brow furrow with shame and he clears his throat uncomfortably before looking around the open gallery of the mansion to try and find any reason for her to leave.

“I didn’t raise you this way. You know that.” The older woman chides as she dusts off some of the priceless paintings that line the walls beside where he sits.

He lets out a gentle snort as he leans back into the chaise lounge.

“At least someone raised me, right?” He quips to her as he looks out the bay windows.

The garden seems well tended as of late, after the last fiasco with the uneven hedges he appreciates how much work his new gardeners have put into it.

He begins to wonder what you enjoy, what your hobbies are besides getting pounded in the back of your best friends club. Do you enjoy the finer things? Like yachting or horse racing? Do you even know what they are? Just how sheltered are you?

“What do poor people like? Swap meets?” Yoongi asks as he watches the rose bushes sway in the wind.

“Yoongi.” Maya whispers dejectedly and he turns his head to her before shrugging.

“Just asking.” He murmurs as a sparrow lands on the marble bird bath beside the window.

“Why don’t you just try to get to know her? Ask her things like that without being rude.” Maya replies as she turns to him.

With a grimace, he finishes his coffee before handing the cup to her, “Why do I have to get to know her?”

“Oh my goodness.” Maya mumbles as she leaves the gallery.

The billionaire watches her leave before slowly turning back to the window to stare aimlessly for a little while longer.

He's always been so jaded, always been so absolutely fucking ruthless because if he didn't protect himself from the outside world who would?

And even if it causes rifts, he just has to be this way. Because you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

The sounds of construction break him out of his thoughts. The contract must have gone through to Namjoon, if your room was already being renovated. Kira must have called and set up everything like she was supposed to.

It's a good thing she isn't just good for her tight snatch.

Standing up with a groan, he stretches high up to the ceiling. He can hear and feel his bones popping and groaning to welcome a new day in front of him.

As he steps onto the heated marble flooring of the second floor, he knows he should be getting ready for work yet instead his curiosity begins to eat at him.

What is your room starting to look like? How about the kids room?

Walking past his walk-in closet, he can see dust and wood shavings on the floor in the hallway. His first thought is to curse out the constructors and threaten them if even a single wooden shard enters his room. But, before he can even open his mouth the shrill voice of his wife enters his ears.

"MIN YOONGI!" He can feel his brain rattling around in his skull, like a cry for help. He sighs loudly, it's really not a surprise that she can be even louder than the construction right in front of him.

Turning to her, he takes in her half asleep look. Her sleeping mask is stuck to her forehead, her black hair jutting out on all sides as she narrows her big, doll-like eyes at him.

"Some people are trying to sleep!" She screeches from the entrance of her wing in the mansion.

He chuckles to himself at her disheveled state and proceeds into his closet to get ready for work.

It probably won't end at that. And, he is absolutely correct.

Peeling off his sleep shirt, his eyes meet his wife's through the mirror as she storms into the room.

"I need beauty sleep, asshole!" She yells at him and he stares at her for a fraction of a second before clicking his teeth and tilting his head.

"You don't need beauty sleep, I paid for that face, leech." He deadpans.

His body is quick to duck out of the way as she takes the nearest object to the door before lobbing it at his head.

"Did you do as I told you?" She asks, watching him grab his crisp white work shirt.

He doesn't reply, which in turn makes her repeat the same question louder with a high shrill added to her tone.

She's always been impatient and bratty. Once which was endearing to him is now like nails on a chalkboard.

"Hello?! I'm speaking to you! Answer me, asshole!" She yells as she snaps her fingers in his face.

Pressing his tongue to his cheek, he lets out a gentle snort before taking a deep inhale through his nose.

"When do I ever just do as you tell me to, Sera? When has that ever been a goal of mine?" He asks as he grabs his pinstriped tailored pants to match his shirt.

"What? So you didn't?" She asks, clearly shocked.

"Of course I didn't, what are you? Insane? Stupid? I'm a dick but I'm not heartless." He retorts.

"No! Just heartless to me!" She cries out angrily and he chuckles to himself as he grabs a tie.

"I'm sure you'll survive." He mumbles as he pulls the drawer full of his watches open. He watches them spin on their platforms before picking a black Rolex that would go nicely with his pants.

"The plan was for you to make her say that she's my surrogate! Since I'm so beautiful and so famous, she would be carrying my child instead!" Just hearing her ridiculous plan again makes him almost as uncomfortable as the first time he heard it.

In all honesty, as soon as those words left her mouth he didn't even entertain the idea. It seemed so wholly horrible and so absolutely fucking selfish. But, this is Sera we're talking about.

"That was your plan. You think I would ever force her or anyone to have to go in front of people and say their kid isn't their own? Jesus Christ. You really are a fucking leech." He spits out.

"But! But, she's going to use you for your money! She's going to ruin everything!" She screams above the incessant construction.

The sentence sends something akin to fire flaming throughout his gut.

"Well, leech, it's not like I'm not used to being used for my money. If anything you can teach her first hand what it's like to milk me like a money cow." Her mouth opens slightly, as if she's appalled by the notion.

It's then that his patience snaps like a thin twig beneath weight.

"Do you want to see my dick?" He asks briskly.

"Ew! What? No, of course not!" She yells at him as he gathers his clothes onto one arm.

"Then get the fuck out. I have to get ready for work." She stomps her foot loudly as if in protest but he brushes by her without a word back to his bedroom.

"Fucking money grubbing leech." He whispers to himself as he slams his bedroom door closed behind him.

Thursday nights were appointed for one thing in Min Yoongi's eyes. Poker.

The library which he barely ever entered as well as his wife that couldn't read more than ten words without having a seizure was always occupied on Thursdays.

Usually, the other five members of his social circle were always present but today he only had the pleasure of four of them.

"I love that Maya deals." Taehyung chuckles as he pulls the pile of poker chips in the middle of the table towards him.

Yoongi snorts gently, clamping the cigar between his teeth tighter as he stacks his chips with one hand.

"Maya, can I please have some more ice?" Namjoon asks softly as he holds up the bucket.

"Oh of course!" She says quickly as she takes the bucket from him.

Taehyung and Jimin watch her leave before slyly smirking to Yoongi as he leans back in his chair with a groan. The way they look at him makes him feel like prey in a baron forest.

"What?" He murmurs as he pulls the cigar from his mouth.

The tips of Taehyung's fingers slide over the green felt table as he lifts his glass of whisky.

"I heard something interesting about you." He replies to his older friend.

Namjoon clears his throat uncomfortably as he crosses his legs beneath the lip of the table.

"Oh yeah? What's that? Something about my board of trustees?" Yoongi asks with a laugh as he picks up his own glass.

"Not so much." Jimin murmurs as he ashes his cigar.

"Heard you got a girl pregnant." Yoongi chokes on his whisky as he hears Taehyung's smooth voice. His eyes widen and he spins his chair around to dab at his mouth.

His blood runs cold as the hotel CEO chuckles behind him. It scares the ever living shit out of him and he hates that.

"Where'd you hear that?" He asks gently, his voice audibly shaking as he turns back around.

"A little after I pulled my dick out of Yu Leena's tight ass." Jimin snickers at the admission and Yoongi closes his eyes in defeat.

"You won't say anything, right?" Namjoon asks quietly as he looks over at his best friend.

Hoseok, Yoongi's other best friend since childhood had only recently found out about you and his heir. While he was surprised, he was always loyal to the CEO and Yoongi knew he could count on his silence.

"I definitely won't. I like it when Leena comes over and if I say anything she won't let me take her to France in two weeks." The Kisung Connected CEO sighs in relief at the younger man's admission.

Maya returns with the ice and it gets quiet for a bit, just the gentle sounds of ice clinking against glass and poker chips smacking into each other resound throughout the large library.

"Leena loves her, y'know. She never shuts up about her. I feel like I know her with how much Leena tells me." Taehyung says as he rubs two poker chips together between his fingers.

This peaks his curiosity as he begins to relax into the chair once more.

"What does she say?" Yoongi asks softly and he watches as Maya smirks gently. Her motions are soft and smooth as she deals the cards.

"About Y/N? That she's really sweet and kind. She works really hard and enjoys simple things like most poor people." Humming inquisitively, he lifts his whisky glass to his lips to ponder that thought.

"Simple things? Like?" Taehyung rolls his eyes at Yoongi's question.

"Yeah. Simple things. She likes to paint and to watch romantic movies. She enjoys cooking and other poor people shit."

He begins to wonder how well you can paint. If you were any good at it.

"She's really sweet." Namjoon adds and Yoongi grimaces in his direction.

Noticing his grimace, the lawyer shrugs with a smirk.

"Is she the girl that was with Leena on her birthday?" Jimin asks and both Yoongi and Taehyung nod at the same time.

"Oh dude! She's so fucking hot! I can't believe you got to her before me!" Hearing those words roll off of his friend's tongue sets him in an uncomfortable state.

His body leans away from Jimin's as he clutches the cigar tighter between his index and middle finger.

"So she's moving in here?" Jimin asks happily.

"In two days. Yes. We have to go to the doctor and then she'll be in the mansion."

Hoseok nudges Namjoon as they watch their best friend move uncomfortably.

Yoongi loosens his tie around his neck, his face and chest begin to feel incredibly hot and flush. He can feel the sweat building on his hairline as he uncuffs his cufflinks.

"Maya." He whispers as he holds them out over the table.

Swallowing thickly, he stares down into his glass as the ice clinks against the crystal sides.

"You're lucky she's moving in. Now you'll have constant pussy." Jimin says as he scrolls through Leena's Instagram.

The concept is completely foreign to Yoongi, "She's pregnant. Why would I fuck her?"

Namjoon chuckles to himself gently as he looks at his cards, he tosses a few chips into the center of the table before looking pointedly at his best friend.

"Because man, pregnant pussy feels so much better than regular pussy. Plus, she's carrying your baby. That's fucking hot." Yoongi sneers at Jimin, the corner of his upper lip flicking upward at the notion.

"You're a fucking short little weirdo, Park Jimin." Yoongi's sentence comes out just a bit more acidic than he means it to but he doesn't apologize.

If anything the small flames of anger seem to burnish brighter as Jimin chuckles to himself. Park has always been so sure of himself, so absolutely ruthless in getting what he wants. But, you weren't his to have.

"If you aren't going to fuck her right, can I?" He asks as he tosses chips into the middle of the table.

Yoongi's hand grips into a fist, the edges of the chips he holds make uncomfortable indents into his skin as he focuses on Maya's face to calm himself down.

"Whoa. Jimin." Hoseok mumbles as Jimin laughs.

"Calm down hyung. I'm just playing with you. I'll just ask her out on a date and we'll see where it goes." Yoongi chuckles to himself.

He can't begin to understand why it bothers him so much to hear those words. Maybe it's because you're being treated flippantly or maybe it's because you were his. Or, should be his anyway. You were having his child. Doesn't that make you off limits?

But he was better than this. He was better than letting small, simple things beneath his skin.

"She won't say yes. She's pregnant with my baby." He says as he chucks his chips into the center of the table roughly.

"We'll see. If she does say yes, just know I'll treat your baby mama with a lot of respect...as I rearrange her guts with the head of my cock." Jimin and Taehyung chortle loudly as they knock their shoulders into one another.

Scoffing gently, he downs the rest of his whisky before wiping the back of his hand over his lips.

It takes all of his restraint to not get out of his chair and punch the shorter man in the face. It takes every single ounce of strength to just stay seated and look as if he's calm while on the inside he's burning bright with red hot rage.

"You watch your fucking mouth, Jimin. She's the mother of my child." He says as he points his finger over the lip of his glass at the younger man.

The laughs die down as they notice just how deadly serious he is.

"Oh, now you care about her? Seemed like she was going to be just another leech ten minutes ago." Jimin chuckles as he speaks his words and Namjoon's eyes flutter shut in defeat.

"Yeah well, if she was to be a leech. She would be my leech. Not yours. You watch your fucking mouth when you talk about the mother of my baby in this fucking house, do you understand me?" He doesn't even understand where this rage is coming from. He can't begin to process it, but he doesn't miss the smile that creeps onto Maya's face as he defends your honor.

Jimin holds his hands up with a laugh as he clenches his cigar between his teeth.

"Calm down Yoongi. I'm just fucking with you. I don't want to fuck your poor baby mama, alright?"

Namjoon sits up fast as Yoongi goes to stand up, "Let's just all relax. Calm down." He tells his best friend as he puts his hand on his shoulder.

"Get out." He says aloud as he brushes Namjoon's hand off his shoulder.

Jimin looks up at Yoongi as Maya gently sets the cards down on the felt table.

"Oh Yoongi. Come on, I was fucking around." He says half heartedly.

"I'm done for the night. Get the fuck out." He burns his cigar out before opening up the library doors.

Everyone stands and thanks Maya softly before heading out one by one. Yoongi catches Jimin by the shoulder as he leaves last.

His hand clasps roughly around his skin and Jimin cringes at the sharp pain, "You keep her fucking name out of your goddamn mouth. Do you understand me? Don't you dare ever disrespect her in this household again. Or, I'll release those pictures of you at your bachelor party to Dispatch. You keep your dick away from where it doesn't belong in this house."

The threat sends Jimin's eyes widening a fraction before he collects his composure, "I got it. Relax." He says before pulling his shoulder away and patting the older man's arm.

Taking a deep breath, he looks around the library before meeting Maya's gaze as she clears the cards off of the poker table.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that nasty stuff." He apologizes and her nose wrinkles sweetly as she smiles.

"Now that, that is how I raised you." He smirks gently at her praise before pocketing his hands and looking down at the floor.

"Can you order some paint brushes and canvas?" He asks softly.

"Oh of course! For you? You don't paint." Maya asks, her voice is riddled with confusion as she stacks the poker chips back in the oak box.

"No, I don't but Y/N does." He mumbles and Maya smiles widely before nodding.

"Of course I'll order her some painting materials! That's a great idea, Yoongs!" Seeing her, the woman who has raised him, get so excited about it makes him feel almost drunk off of delight.

But, then he gets brought down to Earth once more as he hears his wife giggle from the kitchen.

"Thanks, Maya." He mumbles as he sets off to his wing of the mansion. He eyes Hoseok chatting up his wife as they both lean against the bar and he snorts to himself in disbelief. At least someone would be getting laid tonight.

The problem with having a wife that sees other people is just how loud sex can get when you're not involved.

At one point Yoongi craved to be in Hoseok's position. He was dying to get in between Sera's legs albeit she was annoying and bratty since they were kids. He had a genuinely real crush on her that dissolved into distaste and pure hatred in a matter of moments.

Even across the whole mansion, he can hear her getting fucked like there's no tomorrow and he grimaces while turning to the window as he lays in bed.

"Music up to ninety percent." He calls out in the room and the volume of the classical piano piece rises quickly to drown out the feral noises of sex from the other wing in the mansion.

Pulling out his phone, he begins to scroll through Instagram before finding Leena's page. There were so many posts with just you and her or you, her and Seokjin. Your smile was pretty. He takes into account that you haven't really smiled around him all that much but he can understand why.

He can remember your giggle too, when you were in Namjoon's office. It was soft and gentle, like hummingbird wings. The noise instantly made him relax and he can remember how his eyes fluttered shut just upon hearing it.

You weren't a bad person. You weren't trying to trap him-- he could see it on your face when you had lunch. You were genuinely mortified. So fucking frightened. And, even though he doesn't know you, you don't deserve that.

You don't deserve to be terrified of him or anyone.

He can see in most of these pictures, you're wearing borrowed things. The Chanel, the Balenciaga, the Gucci-- it was all Leenas and none of it was your own.

How fucking depressing must that be? Did Leena make you wear her clothes or did you ask her to borrow some in order to not feel poor and unworthy around others?

Sighing gently, he presses his face deeper into the pillow as he continues to scroll.

Maybe he shouldn't treat you like another Sera. But, he doesn't trust a single person. He's learned to lock his heart away in an iron cage after Sera so brutally stepped on him.

He's not sure if he could ever truly open up to someone else that isn't the woman who raised him.

Next Chapter --->

Third Wheeling Taglist- @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @laabellaavitaa21, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @jooniebugg, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes

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finalproblem · 3 years

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Sherlockian Wednesday Watchalongs: The Sherlympic Games 🏅

Swifter, Higher, Explodier! It’s a world of competition this July.

All Wednesday watchalong gatherings start at 8:30 pm US Eastern (aka New York) time. (Convert to your local time here.)

Wednesday, July 7 (Double Feature ‼️) The Adventures of Shirley Holmes: The Basket Case (Season 4, Episode 5) Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century: The Adventure of the Empty House (Season 1, Episode 4) Canada 🇨🇦 competes in basketball 🏀 and video games 🎮

Wednesday, July 14 Granada Holmes: Silver Blaze (Episode 23) The UK 🇬🇧 competes in horse racing 🏇

Wednesday, July 21 (Double Feature ‼️) Sherlock Hound: Disturbance, The World Flight Championship! (Episode 22 / 25 on YouTube) Sherlock Holmes 1954: The Case of the Careless Suffragette (Episode 20) Japan 🇯🇵 competes in an air race 🛩️ Meanwhile, France 🇫🇷 and the US 🇺🇸 team up for croquet💣

Wednesday, July 28 Sherlock Holmes: 221B Baker Street (Episode 1 of the 2013 Russian series) Russia 🇷🇺 competes in boxing 🥊

Here’s the deal: Like Sherlock Holmes? You’re welcome to join us in The Giant Chat of Sumatra to watch and chat with us. Just find a copy of the episode or movie we’re watching, and come make some goofy internet friends.

Keep an eye on my #the giant chat of sumatra tag and the calendar for updates on future chat events.

#the giant chat of sumatra #sherlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #the adventures of shirley holmes #sherlock holmes in the 22nd century #granada holmes #sherlock hound #sherlock holmes 1954 #russian holmes 2013 #watchalong

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

stuck with u--calum hood (part ii)

Read part one here

word count: 4.7k

warnings: nsfw, boyfriend!cal, oral sex (female receiving), slight exhibitionism, slight cum talk, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, 18+ please

Let me know if you’d like a part 3! I’ve got ideas but they revolve around baby Hood and I know I write that way too much but I can’t be tamed so if you don’t want that this will be the last part ok

Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

• • • •

She was finally able to visit her family for a few weeks with Calum and Duke accompanying her on the trip. Staying in her childhood bedroom had its drawbacks of not being intimate with each other. Not that Calum went without trying. He’d move in to give her a goodnight kiss, distracting her with his lips while his hand attempted to slip under her pajama bottoms.

“Hold your horses, handsy,” she’d giggle and pull his hand away. “Wait until we’re alone.”

“We are alone,” he’d pout against her neck.

“My parents are right across the hall. You know me, I can’t be quiet.” She’d play with his hair affectionately trying to appease him.

“I love that you can’t be quiet,” he’d smile back then sigh deeply, it tickled her skin. “Fine, but when we get back home…you’re mine.”

After rekindling their relationship, it was stronger than ever. They found a routine that included a workout regime while also spending some alone time apart. Sure, they still had their qualms, but the resolve was quicker than before.

She was so happy to help out with the Wildflower video when that happened and made sure to follow Andy’s instructions to a T as she helped him film it. She loved watching him do his own workout routine by the pool, his muscles rippling and glistening in the midday sun was a sight for sore eyes.

One day, he was holed up in his music room on a call with the guys. She assumed it was about tour and she could hear the frustration and sadness in his voice as she passed by to start dinner. While she cooked she suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over her because spending this time with him when he should be on tour made her happy.

His door opened half an hour later with him running his fingers through his hair in distress.

“Smells good, baby,” he says moving behind her. His hands rest on her waist, he kisses her cheek then holds her for a moment. He sighs heavily.

“What’s going on with the guys?” she asks carefully, not wanting to add her own salt to the wound.

“We couldn’t reschedule all the tour dates,” he says sadly. “We were thinking of making the set longer since it was held off, hopefully have the fifth album out before then so we can double new songs. We’ll see.”

“I think that’d be great, the fans would love a longer set.”

He hums in agreement watching her sprinkle some parmesan cheese over the fish, his lips pulsing on her shoulder like little fish kisses. When she has to put the pan in the oven, she pats his hands which he removes so she can do her task then sets the timer for the appropriate time. She takes Calum’s hand then leads him to the couch so they can sit together.

“What else is on your mind?” she asks curling her fingers in his hair, he leans into her touch resting his hand on her thigh.

“Ash said he’s been creating his own solo album since all of this started and he’s nearly finished with it.”

“Really? Wow, that’s great for him!”

“Yeah…it is,” he starts to chew on the nail of his thumb lost in thought. “It got me thinking.”

“Of?” she continues to play with his hair, his own hand rubbing circles on her thigh.

“What if I…I might want to put an actual book of my own writings together.”

“Really?! I think that’s an awesome idea!” she exclaims kissing his cheek excitedly.

“You do?”

“Yeah! Your writing is incredible, honey. Poetry is becoming such a big thing again, it helps others not feel so alone, it brings out their emotions. What would you write about?”

“You,” he smiles leaning forward to press a delicate kiss to her lips. “Me, the guys, growing up as a kid, other thoughts I have.”

“It already sounds like a bestseller.”

“I don’t know where to start,” he huffs. He shifts on the couch so he’s lying on her chest, his curls tickle her chin, they hug each other close.

“Wherever you want to,” she kisses the top of his head. “They’re your words, your thoughts, your feelings.”

They sit in a comfortable silence while dinner cooks, she continues to play with his hair and rub his back with her other hand. She’s excited to see his process with this, something that’s his own creation. When the oven timer goes off, he helps her set everything else up for dinner, both of them are stuck in their own thoughts and musings.

Bedtime rolls around and Calum’s been flipping through his brown leather notebook he always writes in and the one he gave her for her birthday. He’s waiting for something to jump out at him for a good place to start. While she sleeps, he thinks. And thinks. And thinks. Until an idea blooms in his mind.

The next morning, she wakes to a Calum-less side of the bed. She looks to the bathroom but he’s not in there, then she checks her phone if he texted her that he went to the store or something. She finds the coffee maker is still on with her mug and favorite ingredients set aside for her along with a small handwritten note from Calum.

“Be back soon, love. Getting something for the both of us to enjoy xx Cal”

She smiles at the note, fixes her coffee then ponders what he could possibly be getting for the both of them to enjoy. Her mind immediately goes to something sexual, but they haven’t really discussed anything out of the ordinary as of late. She also found it very sweet that he left a note instead of a text, his romanticism never fails.

Upon waiting for his return, she rinses the dishes and puts them in the dish washer, then decides to take a quick shower. She pulls on some fabric shorts and one of his shirts then prattles about the house until Duke’s barking signifies his arrival.

“Y/N?”

She comes by the door where Calum quickly lifts her into his arms and spins her around, his rumbling laughter makers her join in even though she doesn’t know the joke.

“Where have you been?”

“Come outside but close your eyes.”

He takes her hand then covers her eyes with the other, leading her to the front of the house. Their feet knock together as he guides her to where he wants her.

“Okay, are you ready?”

“Did you get me a pony?” she teases.

“No, silly girl,” he chuckles then removes his hand, but she keeps her eyes closed. “Open.”

When she does, she’s staring at a mini retro camper that’s yellow and white with an outline of a dog painted on the front. She gasps at it; they’ve always talked about getting one so they could do a camping trip together.

“What do you think? Want to check the inside out? It’s pretty spacious inside,” he grins mischievously pulling open the door.

“Oh yeah? Give me the grand tour, sir.”

She takes his hand helping her step inside. Her mouth opens in shock at the updated version inside. White cabinets and furnished wood flooring make the space appear bigger. There’s a small nook with a table for eating, the kitchenette is small with a door leading to the toilet and across that is a small shower. Two small steps lead up to a large bed decorated with an orange bedspread and see through curtains over the back window. Up front is a small couch with pillows and a blanket.

“And, check this out,” he ducks in front of her then pushes a button, a medium flat screen appears behind two cabinets. “We can plug in our firestick as long as we’re in range of a Wifi spot so we can watch Netflix, Hulu, Disney+.”

She looks at all the small details, she loves the wicker basket ottoman in the center of the room and there’s already a small dog bed for Duke next to the table. She loves it.

“I was thinking we could go camping along the coast, I already found two great campsites, bought a grill and other camping supplies. I figured we could get away for a bit, out of the house and into the outdoors. I can work on my writing and it will be relaxing and romantic. What do you think?”

She turns around to stare at him, his head just barely touches the ceiling, but his eyes are bright with excitement. He’s glowing in this little camper that is now theirs. She closes the space between them and wraps her arms around his shoulders giving him a big kiss.

“I think that’s the best idea I’ve ever heard,” she whispers on his lips. “I love it. When can we go? We’ll need to go grocery shopping and get bug spray and travel sized shampoo and other things. Those are so cute, they’re so compact. We’ll have to pack for Duke. I’ll make a list and—”

He silences her rambling with a kiss then backs her further into the camper towards the bed. She crawls into the middle of it, their lips still locked. When he presses his hips against hers, she can feel his arousal and she moans.

“We can do all of that after I take you right here, baby,” he mumbles shifting his lips to her jaw. He lies her back against the orange and white pillows. “We need to christen this bed, hm?”

“Mhm,” she sighs enjoying the feel of his plush lips on her skin. She turns her head to the right so he can continue his kissing path then she notices the door. “Shut the door.”

“Everyone’s in their houses…”

“Cal,” she laughs pushing on his shoulder playfully. “If you go close the door, I’ll be naked and waiting for you.”

That grabs his attention. He pulls back giving her a questioning look. He bounds off the bed, the camper rocking with his motions as he shuts the door and locks it. By the time he’s back at the steps, she is indeed naked, trailing her fingers down and over her breasts to in between her legs. She lifts a finger, motioning him forward in a ‘come here’ fashion.

“Fuck,” he sighs and removes his own clothes, quickly joining her on the bed.

She giggles at his excitement dragging his mouth to hers, his hand grips at her thigh then curves in between her folds. Moans replace her giggles when his finger slips inside, curling and twiddling against her spongy wall.

“So wet already? Can’t have you ruin this new bedspread before we get on the road, can I?”

“What are you gonna do about it?” she smirks, then winces when he removes his finger.

“Lick you up.”

He looks up at her with lust filled eyes, brushing his lips in barely there kisses down her stomach then wiggles his tongue over her clit. He moans at the taste and laves her up more with his tongue.

“Mm, Cal…” she whines wriggling her upper body. He flattens his tongue, doing deep swipes up and down her folds before suctioning onto her clit. She rests her heel on his shoulder just when he inserts a finger. “Yes!”

He smiles against her, pumping his finger slowly paired with the roll of his tongue. He adds another and ups the ante until she’s panting in staccato breaths. Moans tickle past her tongue the faster he goes chasing her orgasm.

“Come for me, baby…let me feel you,” he whispers and at his words her stomach clenches and her heart jolts in her chest. He moans with her to heighten the arousal then when she teeters off he kisses the inside of her thigh. “Good girl.”

He moves his face back, but she pulls on his hair, jerking his head up so he looks at her.

“Need you now. Please,” she whimpers.

Very slowly, he licks his lips then pulls his fingers out of her. Very slowly, he licks those, too before clambering on top of her. She reaches for his hardened dick, guiding him inside. He sinks into her easily, moaning into her mouth while he fucks her. She rocks her hips with his, meeting his rhythm with a desirable frenzy.

Their motions are rocking the camper slightly, the bed squeaks quietly as they pursue their high together.

“Feel so good,” he pants on her mouth.

“Faster, faster,” she begs.

A few more quick snaps and she cries out in a loud moan, Calum’s body jerks against hers then he pulls out quickly as he releases on her stomach and then they’re both breathing heavily. She swallows thickly, letting out a gust of air and pets his curls that are now a perfect blend of blond and black. Calum lifts his head and tugs on her bottom lip with his teeth.

“I think we rocked this camper.”

She bursts into laughter then sighs, “Yeah we did. You rocked my world, for sure. Giving me a workout in my legs, babe.”

“Sore?” he kisses her nose then slowly rolls onto his back and moves into the small bathroom. He grabs toilet paper wipes himself off, pulls his boxers and pants back on then kneels on the bed to help clean between her legs and on her stomach.

“Thank you.”

“’Course,” he grins peppering kisses on her belly.

“Lay with me for a bit,” she tugs him down next to her, wincing as she lets her legs relax. She fells the strain in her thighs already and shifts into a comfortable position against him. “We’re really going to do this, right? Go camping and leave the world behind for a bit?”

“We’re going to do this,” he strokes her cheek in assurance, loving how flushed they are from the sex they just had. “You and me and Duke. We’ll make smores, nap in here whenever we want—and yes it has air conditioning,” he laughs.

“It sounds so nice,” she sighs closing her eyes then yawns. She usually falls asleep right after, he wears her out.

“Let’s not sleep out here yet, we gotta check on Duke and start a list.”

“I need to shower first,” she sits up stretching her arms above her head. “Toilet paper doesn’t really get the job done.”

“Can I join you?” he smirks springing into a sitting position and kisses her shoulder.

Setting up their campsite didn’t take too long when they arrived. The awning on the camper was easy to assemble and setting up their chairs in the front didn’t take that long as well. The camper was already stocked with the food they bought with their clothes in the drawers set about the whole perimeter. She even added a photo of her, Calum and Duke on one wall so it was officially theirs.

They walked along the beach with Duke collecting shells and sea glass they found. They snacked when they wanted, took a nap in their bed with the windows open. It wasn’t until the third day that Calum was struck with inspiration for his poetry book. He sat out in the sun for a while before she woke up, then when he heard commotion he walked in to see her in nothing but his tank top.

The hem just barely covered her ass, she looked sleepy and beautiful while she sang along to the song “Something” by The Beatles and started the coffee pot. He snatched his phone out quickly, took a sneaky picture of her then opened up his notebook, his pen flying across the page.

From then on the words continued to pour out of him. He thought of words and phrases all day, all of them were mainly about Y/N but he didn’t find anything wrong about that. While they sat around their small campfire, they would play their ukuleles together as the sparks became stars.

He’d ask her for help sometimes if he got stuck on the structure of a poem or if he should keep one line or a different one so it would flow better. She was more than happy to help when asked. Sometimes, right before bed, they’d shut all of the lights off and leave the windows and curtains open so the sound of the ocean waves would blow in. They’d be illuminated by the glow of the stars and moon; hands would wander in soft caresses while his lips kissed the shell of her ear.

After about a week and a half when they went into town to use the laundromat, he was on the phone with Michael then with Ashton. She’s reading the poems he’s finished so far, Calum is tracing his fingers over her back while he’s on the phone, but she’s not paying attention. She’s immersed in his words.

“Y/N….babe…hey love,” his voice pulls her from the words on the page.

“Huh, what? Is the wash done?”

“No,” he grins then crouches in front of her. “How would you feel about meeting up with Mike and Crystal at their little getaway in the hills then heading to the desert with Ash for his album release?”

“Sounds like fun,” she smiles. “When do we leave?”

The windows are down as they cruise along the highway towards Michael and Crystal’s campsite. They’re only staying for five days and Y/N is staring at Calum as he drives. His hair flicks in the wind, he has some scruff forming on his jaw and chin that she loves. It’s a soft scratch on her own cheek or in between her thighs that sends her heart haywire.

“Whaddaya starin’ at over there, little lady?” he smirks then goes right back into singing along with Voodoo by ASL.

“Just you,” she grins then notices a love bite is still red on his neck. She touches it with her finger. “I feel selfish for loving all this time with you.”

“Why do you feel selfish?”

“Because you’d be on tour right now. I feel bad for feeling happy.”

“I get it,” he nods then flashes her a smile, eyes sparkling. “Would it make you feel better if I said I’m happy I’m not on tour right now, too? It’s not ideal for a break but I think it’s a break we all need.”

“Yeah…you all seem more…relaxed. Do the guys know about your poetry project?”

“No, I’m gonna wait until I’m finished with it. I also don’t want to take away from Ash’s moment.”

Michael and Crystal’s camper was much larger than theirs, one side was completely made of glass with sliding doors that overlooked the hills and dunes. The four of them went on a hike with Duke in tow and took plenty of pictures with each other.

All too soon it was time to travel on to the desert where Ashton had a whole set up. He rented out some cabins that looked more like tents on a wooden deck. Calum and Y/N opted out so they could use their camper. While his album played in the calm desert night, Y/N and Calum were snuggled up together discussing the songs quietly with each other.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” she tells him when the album’s played through.

“Already?” Calum asks kissing her cheek.

“Yeah, long day of driving. I’ll get our sleep things ready,” she grins at him.

“I’ll be in soon,” he wraps his arms around her for a hug. “If you wanna sleep naked tonight, I wouldn’t object to that.”

She giggles and smacks his chest playfully.

“And risk our friends sneaking a peek? I don’t think so, babe,” she snickers then bids everyone else goodnight.

Calum watches her leave, his eyes lowering to her sweatpants covered butt that still looks so adorable.

“Stop staring at me, Hood!” she shouts tossing him a flirty smile over her shoulder.

“Can’t help it, my girl’s hot!” he shouts back, and she shakes her head.

He stays with their group of friends for another twenty minutes until he heads inside, Duke trotting along with him. He circles his bed three times then lays down sighing heavily. Calum locks the door, Y/N’s leaning over their bed adjusting the pillows and curtains. All she has on is one of Calum’s t-shirts black cotton panties with pink lace along the edges.

She heard him come in but didn’t turn around, her focus is on the task at hand at assembling their bed. Calum’s hot hands are on her waist, his fingertips gracing the front of her thighs, his mouth by her ear makes her gasp in surprise.

“You’re not naked, but I love this view, too,” he whispers, his teeth grazing her ear lobe.

Shivers spike her neck as Calum presses himself against her, his hard on apparent against her ass. She bites her lip to suppress the moan when his tongue licks at her neck, his thumbs kneading her ass. His lips kiss her skin delicately before he sucks on it, the air from his nose tickles her skin.

“That tickles,” she sighs leaning against him to feel some form of stimulation on her covered core.

“Should I put my lips somewhere else?” he asks, his fingers already pulling down her panties. The fabric falls to her feet, she kicks it away and Calum palms her ass a little roughly. He gives her a light smack, she yelps in response.

“Where’d you…have in mind?” she swallows thickly attempting to turn around. His hands press on her waist to keep her leaning face forward against the bed.

“Stay right there.”

He kisses her lips quickly then drops to his knees; he pushes apart her legs.

“Can you bend over for me, baby? Let me see how wet you are…” he nips at her ass as she complies, his thumbs spreading her open. He hums at the sigh. “You’re throbbing for me, hm?”

“Caaaal,” she whines pushing her ass backwards.

He chuckles and bites her other cheek. He kisses down her thigh, pausing over her dripping core and kisses the other thigh. She groans in frustration and Calum chuckles darkly rubbing his stubble on her flesh.

“Please, please, please,” she whispers shifting her feet.

He loves to tease her, but he loves to please her more, so he closes his mouth around her pussy, his tongue pulsing against her clit. She lets out a small shriek from his wet tongue finally making contact where she’s been needing him. He laps at her furiously as if he’s in a race with himself to make her cum in record time.

His speed does the job because she’s grasping at the bedspread, breathing heavily, her body warming up as her orgasm takes over. She moans his name, her ears ringing as he keeps going, his tongue and lips slurping and suctioning away.

“You sound so hot,” he pants but continues working her over into another orgasm.

All too quickly, he removes his mouth while her orgasm ebbs away. She hears him shuck off his pants then feels his tip nudge between her folds. She lets out a loud moan from more teasing, her fingers clutching at the bedspread. He teases her entrance more and she can’t take it any longer.

“Fuck, Calum…please, no more teasing.”

“You want me that badly, baby?” he leans over her, pressing his weight against her ass with his tip inching in further.

“Yes,” she groans.

“Will you two be quiet?! For fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t listen, then!” Calum shouts back to Ashton and she looks up to see the window by their bed is still open. The curtains lifting lightly from the breeze.

“Cal!” she squeals and pushes the button for the light. They’re flooded in darkness, but she still desperately needs him.

“Kind of hard when Y/N’s so loud!”

“Plug your ears!” Calum calls and presses himself into her more then teases himself back out.

“Cal?” she lifts her head from the bed craning her neck to look at him.

“Yeah baby?”

“Screaming at Ashton is kind of killing the mood. I can be quiet.”

“I like you loud,” he sighs inserting himself once more, this time further than before. She gasps at the stretch.

“We can wait. I—ohh.”

Calum buries himself inside her, filling her completely and silencing whatever she was going to say. He thrusts gently then pulls out until he finds a good pace, the shirt of his that she’s wearing rides up her back. She closes her eyes from the glorious sensation of his pulls and pushes, biting her lip to try and stay quiet. When he hits a certain spot one spills out so she shoves her knuckles in her mouth.

“No, no, give me your hands,” he pants.

He pulls her hand from her mouth, twisting her arms behind her back and holds them in place on her back. He leans over, the angle causing him to push deeper inside her, he thrusts in tiny pulses.

“Want you to be as loud as you can for me, yeah? You like when I take you from behind?” he pulls back slowly and pauses waiting for an answer.

“Feels so good,” she whines into the bedspread. Having her wrists bound by his hand adds to the excitement and her pleasure, the restraint is enticing.

He grins, stands up straight then plunges inside her with force. It makes her cry out in pleasure and he picks up a quick pace, her body pushes against the bed. He squeezes her wrists then smacks her ass every once in a while. She clenches around him sporadically, small orgasms building to the big one that he knows she’s never silent for. Her breathing picks up and so does his.

“There, there, there, yes, yes, yes!” she cries out and he picks up the pace, tightening his hold on her wrists.

She squeezes his cock, a long-pleasured screech breaking through the surface of the bedspread. It’s animalistic and so sexy that he doesn’t even have time to pull out because he’s coming as well. His stomach tightens and untightens, her rapid clenching dragging his orgasm further.

He breathes evenly through his nose once he relaxes, her own body going lax beneath him and he loosens his hold on her wrists. They fall slack beside her as she tries to catch her own breath.

“Don’t move,” murmurs and pulls out of her slowly. She lets out a soft cry from the loss of him inside her, his arousal leaking out a little. He reaches for a washcloth hanging on the towel bar and wets it in the small bathroom sink. “I got you, baby, hold on.”

She gives a non-committal groan as he cleans her up, his teeth marks and a small red shape from his hand stare back at him. He kisses the marks softly, making sure to be careful at her sensitivity. He grabs a towel and dries her off then helps her back into her panties.

“C’mon, into bed,” he says lifting her gently onto the mattress. She falls into a heap, rolling over sluggishly and stares at him through blissful eyes. She reaches for him. “I’m going to brush my teeth quick, then I’m yours, love.”

He’s true to his word and brushes his teeth quickly. When he climbs into bed she latches herself onto him quickly, dragging his mouth to hers in a lazy kiss.

“I’d say I’m mad that all of our friends just heard us have sex, but I’m too fucked out to really mean it,” she murmurs. He laughs against her lips.

“It’s payback for all the times I’ve heard them. They really don’t care, baby,” he slips his hand under her shirt to tickle her back.

“You know what?”

“Hm?”

“Next time can we actually tie my hands together?”

He perks up at that suggestion. “Really?”

“Yeah, I liked it,” she giggles.

“I liked it, too,” he smiles brushing his lips over her hair. “You want to know something?”

“Hm?”

“I just thought of a dozen poems. Your body’s like poetry.”

The rest of the night is spent in lazy kisses until they eventually fall asleep, words and prose circulating in his dreams.

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