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@jellyelle
𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘.
sfw with ocassional nsfw. at this stage, i don't follow back nsfw blogs.
beware of mental health topics. no requests, but yapping welcome.
lads blog with a sprinkle of other fandoms. best viewed in light mode.
© jellyelle 2026. do not copy, repost, translate, or feed my works into ai.
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the clip of Caleb’s VA voicing yuji saying “punk ass bitch” has been on loop in my mind ALLLLLL DAYYYYYY NGHHHHH i need him soooo bad … he says that to a guy after breaking his nose for smiling at you ☺️☺️☺️
all for you
fluff! zayne taking care of reader who has pmos (this request has been in the drafts so long the name has changed from pcos to pmos, oopsie)
this request is severely overdue (i'm so sorry anon!) but i hope this is going in the direction that you wanted <3 (please talk to your trusted healthcare provider for medical advice, and don't rely solely on the internet like me!)
in the case where zayne does not know you have pmos, and you tell him, i personally think that he is going to treat you like the world's most precious jewel (as if he didn't already). of course, there are times where you want to be independent but your comfort is his number one priority.
first line of action for zayne would be: asking if you have a trusted gynaecologist. he knows that pmos is a condition that has many side effects and his knowledge as a cardiologist can only get him so far. if you do, perfect! if not, he is using his connections to get you an appointment with the most trusted one in all of Akso.
second line of action: get you an appointment with him immediately. pmos can put people at higher risks of heart issues, and that is something he can fix!
third and most important line of action: cuddles. he may not have all of the answers to the questions that you do have, but he will do his absolute best to assure you that he is always by your side. expect sweet pastries (within moderation) and kisses that are even sweeter <3
taglist: @snowypi @starkissedxav @mrsqins @jellyelle @violasepals @xinghuisknight @shionsunny @txtworlddom @erenophilic @vxnillabxn @maimaily
𝖗𝖆𝖇𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖞
chapter two: an unexpected visitor
arctic hare!xavier, river otter!rafayel, timber wolf!caleb, snow leopard!zayne, lynx!sylus x snowshoe hare!female reader
↳ warnings: sfw, world building, mentions of blood/gore, mentions of animal death
4.5k words
Eventually, you succumb to exhaustion, the comforting weight of your bedcovers lulling you back into a deep slumber… but it’s fitful, tainted by Caleb’s blood-soaked skin and feral violet eyes. You sleep through the morning, waking only when the day is well underway, the hustle and bustle of the lively little town square a distant murmur in your ears.
It’s with great difficulty that you finally peel your eyelids open, sleep crusting in the corners and blurring your vision. Beneath your soft patchwork quilt and nestled amongst the many pillows you keep piled against the headboard, the world feels fuzzy and warm. Dust motes dance and swirl in the air, tracing lazy, aimless patterns in front of your window. It’s as if the bed intends to swallow you whole, your limbs heavy and body pliant in its pleasant embrace. You feel so content you nearly drop back off into sleep, but the call of your daily responsibilities is one you can’t afford to ignore. So, instead of giving in to the temptation, you begrudgingly emerge from your safe little cocoon, blankets pooling around your waist as you sit up. Your joints pop and crack as you stretch, sleepy yawn parting your lips as you work out the kinks and knots from your tired muscles. It’s only when you finally manage to pull yourself out of bed that you realize how sore your legs are, a sharp pain shooting up your spine and radiating from your tail bones with each step you take.
Wincing, you wonder briefly what you could have possibly done to injure yourself in such a way before it all comes rushing back… Caleb… the forest… the blood… falling.
Memories of your encounter with the wolf flood your mind, nasty visions of the deer—neck snapped nearly in half—and the gore of its demise swimming behind your eyelids.
How strange it had been… to find him there. Though you’ve never interacted with him much outside of casual pleasantries, as is customary for unmated females such as yourself, you’ve never known Caleb to be anything other than friendly and good-humored. Caleb is a beloved member of the community, well respected as a dependable and capable provider. As far as you know, he is unwed and unmated, brushing off the constant nagging he receives from the Elders with lighthearted laughter and the promise that he’ll take a mate when the time is right. He visits your shop just once a week—usually early in the morning—to trade his meat for baked goods, always smiley and charming… a stark contrast to the beast of a man you’d met in the woods. The Caleb you’d stumbled upon this morning was not the lovable neighborhood butcher who tussled with pups and younglings in the fields or snuck extra meat into expecting mothers’ baskets. No, the Caleb you’d met in the woods was practically unrecognizable… more animal than man.
The sound of cheerful conversation and the thump of footsteps outside pulls you from your thoughts, a much-needed reminder to return to the task at hand. You're already woefully late, and if you don't open shop soon, nosy customers will come knocking. Sighing, you shake the memories of Caleb from your mind. No matter how odd an encounter it had been, life continues on, and your duties take precedence over unexpected jaunts through the woods and deer hunts. Besides, the world always seems less scary in the daylight hours… perhaps you'd overreacted, fear clouding your judgement.
Determined to go about your routine as usual, you hop over to the small wash basin and mirror in the corner of your bedroom, but every other step feels torturous thanks to the sting in your ass, air hissing through your clenched teeth. A splash of cool water against your sleep-warmed cheeks has you feeling refreshed and looking a little less rosy. Examining your hazy appearance in the polished metal, you do your best to make yourself presentable, brushing through the tangles in your hair and smoothing the mussed fur of your rabbit ears. Unable to help yourself, you spend an extra minute or two admiring how beautifully they sprout from beneath your hair to stand tall and proud atop your head, tracing the delicate curve with your fingertips. Right now, the fur that lines them is a lovely shade of brown, dark and rich, but it won’t be long before it begins to molt, shedding to make way for a brilliant, snowy white. The same will happen to the fluffy tail that protrudes at the base of your spine, just above your behind. Snowshoe hares like yourself, along with many other furred mammals, undergo a seasonal molt at least twice a year, hormones affected by the loss of daylight and impending change in weather. Soon, most people in your village will match their wintery surroundings, coats doubling and blending seamlessly with the snow-covered mountain peaks.
After slipping your apron down over your head and knotting it behind your back, you make your way down the hall and into the main room that serves as your storefront, albeit slowly.
Situated in the corner is the large open-mouthed oven with which you bake all your goods, made from heavy stone and tightly packed cob, worn and weathered from generations of use. In front of it is your work station, a sturdy table built from thickly cut cedar wood, already dusted with flour for today’s kneading. The dough you’d prepared the previous evening waits patiently beneath their damp cloths in circular little bowls, having risen as you slept.
Every moment spent dawdling is precious time your oven could be heating, so you hurry to build a fire. The crack of steel against flint sends leaping sparks of light into the rough pile of kindling, eating away at the tinder until the heat swallows it whole. Only for a minute do you admire the dancing flames, poking and prodding at them occasionally to make sure they're catching properly. Once the fire in the oven has grown to a fierce roar, you round the shop counter, quickly pushing the top half of your stable door open to air out the stuffy little bakery. Soon, the mouthwatering smell of freshly baked bread and pastries will drift from your cottage, beckoning passers-by to take a peek inside, curious to glimpse whatever your baker’s peel might pull from the gaping oven mouth today.
It’s a gloomy sort of day outside your door, sun occasionally peaking from behind the fast-moving clouds that blanket the sky in grey. Though the fog has burned off, the weather is no less dreary, a twinge of cold cutting through the last breath of summer. Great winds blow in from the east, carrying with them the promise of rain and cold.
Summer has finally turned over its dominion to the hands of autumn, trading warmth and sunlight for cooler temperatures and shorter days. It won't be long before the changing of the leaves begins, deciduous trees dressing in their finest shades of orange and red as a last farewell before dropping their foliage altogether. The rows of juicy tomatoes and cucumbers that line Farmer Jeremiah’s gardens will soon boast a variety of colorful squash and cauliflower instead, their seeds dutifully sown by the good-natured wood mouse throughout the last months of summer.
You’ve always loved autumn and everything that comes with it… the buttery pies and roasted pumpkin seeds, the fallen leaves crunching beneath your boots, the smell of fresh apple cider wafting from the tavern windows… but the thing you love most of all is how your village seems to come alive with anticipation. Though the summers in the mountains are typically mild, the promise of cooler temperatures is like catnip to Snow Dwellers, a call none can—or wish to—ignore. Sure, you can withstand the heat well enough, but your people are made for the cold, bodies better suited to polar habitats and climates thanks to your animal genetics. Snow Dwellers typically boast larger physiques, have thicker hair, and experience autumn weight gain. These attributes often leave you sweaty and disgruntled during the warmer months of the year, but they allow you to thrive during the snowy blizzards that plague your mountain range.
In fact, the ability to withstand harsher conditions is what differentiates you Snow Dwellers from the other people groups that dot your region. Though you’ve never interacted with them yourself, having never ventured very far from home, you've heard tales of communities that live very differently from your own… different species, customs, and lifestyles.
According to those who’ve traveled down the mountain, just east of your village lies a settlement of Grassland Dwellers. The animals that live there are far better equipped for temperate climates. Because of this, they choose to occupy the fair-weathered rolling hills and plains rather than the rocky outcroppings and plateaus on which your people make their homes.
You once heard whispers of Burrower colony in the lands to the south. Supposedly, it’s comprised entirely of rabbit hybrids who live simplistic lives almost exclusively underground in intricate tunnel systems called Warrens. Rumor has it that despite their ability to easily reproduce, they still struggle to survive, afflicted by unusually short lifespans. Without the natural strength of predators, manual labor is far more demanding, and their development as a society has been slow… Your village is lucky to house both predator and prey alike.
Occasionally, your village plays host to nomadic travelers passing through on their way to higher altitudes as well, but they arrive few and far between and never stay in town for long. Once, a scruffy mountain goat wandered into your bakery. His speech was limited, but with a few simple words and a game of charades, you managed to give him directions to the gorge he was headed for, along with a seed loaf to keep him fed along the way. Typically, Nomads prefer to live by animal instinct alone and ignore their humanity altogether. They often appear more “wild” and look closer to their animal counterparts than those who live in civilizations. Nomads almost always travel alone and tend to avoid others if they can help it.
Needless to say, different hybrids have different needs, and the winter months meet your people’s almost entirely.
But, unfortunately, the arrival of autumn doesn’t just bring tasty treats and warm socks, it also brings extra responsibility. Despite how hard your animal genetics work, they still have human ones fighting against them, and you are not immune to the cold, much less starvation. With the threat of frost and ice looming mere months away, your village will have to kick preparations into overdrive if you wish to survive the winter.
For you, that means the doubling of recipes, hours spent slaving in the heat of the oven’s glow, and more time in the forest foraging for herbs. The days ahead would be busy, not only for you, but for other village providers as well. As a pillar of the community, your labor is vital to the survival of your people. Without food, you will not make it through the winter months, a weight that sits heavy upon yours, and so many others’, shoulders. So heavy, in fact, that you sometimes fear it will topple you. You are young and inexperienced, only freshly come of age, and this shall be your first year as the primary keeper of the hearth. Though you are only one part of a much larger operation—a tiny cog in a great machine—the people look to you for sustenance. They rely on you to provide what is needed when food is scarce, and the crops grow dormant.
You need only to make it to the Harvest Festival, a town-wide celebration marking the end of the fertile period and the beginning of the inactive months your town calls Hibernation. The remainder of each crop will be gathered and a grand feast prepared, the last of its kind before your village hunkers down to wait out the winter. Only when a large, steaming plate of fresh pumpkin bread sits upon the long table to be enjoyed by townsfolk—young and old alike—will you finally be allowed rest.
It is with these expectations in mind that you work today, gently kneading dough into beautifully scored loaves, dutifully filling your shelves and stores with pretzels and pastries.
A few customers make their way in over the next few hours, one of whom is your good friend Tara, a mountain goat. She is the village chandler, and while you know she comes to trade candles for this week’s rations, her reputation as storyteller and town gossip means she will provide you with more than just wax goods.
“Good morning- or should I say good afternoon,” she quips, leaning across your counter as if she owns the place, “Care to tell me why when I came by this morning, the door was shut and the lamps snuffed? It’s the least you can do after depriving me of my morning scone… my tea was so bland without it.”
You sigh, dusting your hands on your apron before you make your way over to her, pulling two fresh scones from the tray to offer as an apology, “I’m sorry. I had trouble sleeping last night… strange dreams. Before I knew it, the day was half gone.”
Tara takes the sugar-covered sweets without complaint, plucking them from your hands with the entitled attitude only a best friend could afford to have.
“Hm, you know… they say dreams serve as omens for something to come. Hopefully a handsome man was present.”
As Tara pops a piece of the pastry into her mouth, you think back to your brush with Caleb. He is certainly handsome, well built and a fine face… but the manner in which he’d appeared…
“Nope, only monsters and ghouls.”
Tara makes a disappointed sort of noise, mouth full of the delicious sweet and pouty lips covered in crumbs and sugar crystals. You can’t help but laugh at her childish behavior, grabbing a nearby cloth to carefully wipe away the mess on her face. As soon as she’s swallowed her bite and you've finished cleaning her chin, she’s back to her endless chatting, something you find both endearing and a bit impressive.
“Speaking of-”
“What? Monsters and ghouls?”
“No, silly,” she pins you with an exasperated look to which you raise your hands in surrender, “Handsome men, obviously. I’ve heard whispers that Gideon intends to court Simone this mating season.”
You pause at that, eyebrows shooting up into your hairline, “Gideon? Gideon wants to mate with Simone? Our Simone?”
“Yup,” Tara pops the ‘p’ playfully before she’s back to her scone, shoveling another large piece into her mouth, nearly choking on it.
“She’s gonna eat that boy alive,” you lament, shaking your head as you do so.
Your friend Simone is a wolverine and seamstress. She’s blunt and straightforward, never one to shy away from expressing her opinion—even to those superior to her. Village Elders, who so many respect and heed without question, often find themselves the subject of her harsh critique. More than once, you’d been intentionally poked with a sewing needle during a garment fitting, Simone chastising you for speaking badly of yourself, loudly insisting that your shape was perfect and any man would be blessed to bear witness to it. She is a wonderful girlfriend, but she remains largely unimpressed with the men in your village and rarely extends to them the same kindness she freely offers women. Her maneater reputation wards off potential suitors like the plague.
Gideon, on the other hand, is a bit of a lap dog… literally. He’s a Bernese Mountain Dog, a herding species known for their gentle and affectionate disposition. He maintains the town’s cattle, carefully shepherding the herd while managing dairy production and slaughter selection. You like Gideon well enough; he’s friendly, good-looking, and loyal to a fault, but you have to admit… he’s a bit naive, always in over his head when it comes to women. If you didn’t know any better, you might think that he’s become a little desperate with the passing of each unsuccessful mating season, but you’ve long since realized that’s just who Gideon is… a hopeless romantic through and through. You haven’t talked with him much, but you found his head to be in the clouds the few times you have.
You hate to say it, but the poor man doesn’t stand a chance with your feisty friend.
“I dunno,” Tara muses, clapping her hands together to rid them of crumbs before picking out the baked goods she wants for the week, “Lovable Gideon might yet thaw our Simone’s frozen heart… or at least his muscles might.”
“He has gotten rather big this summer, hasn’t he?”
“Not nearly as big as Sylus,” Tara argues, to which you nod your head in agreement.
Sylus, the village blacksmith, is easily the largest man in town, years of labour at the anvil strengthening his back and shoulders. Every unmated woman (and even a few mated ones) has caught themselves ogling the lynx while he pounds away at hot metal once or twice, watching his beefy bicep ripple with each heavy strike of his hammer.
“Either way,” your friend’s words yank you from your daydreams, mouth a little dryer at the memory of Sylus’ impressive form, “I think they’d make a cute couple. Don’t tell Simone, but I'm secretly rooting for him.”
You laugh, busying yourself with wrapping Tara’s pastries before carefully placing them in her basket, “It would be nice to see his… attempts at flirtation succeed for once.”
“Agreed. Well, I’d better be off,” Tara takes her basket from you in exchange for a small pile of candles, still joined at the wick, which you store with your lamp oil for later use.
“I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow morning with my scones!” she calls back as she makes her way out the door, making you laugh with fondness. Oh, how you’ve spoiled her.
You return to your work as soon as she’s gone, your progress a bit slower than usual due to your injury, and your mind filled with distracting thoughts of the upcoming mating season and potential couplings. Perhaps you’ll participate this year… should you have time to.
Only when you are well into the afternoon does the door bell chime once again, announcing the arrival of another customer. Already, a friendly, welcoming smile is sliding into place as you turn to greet whoever has wandered in.
“Welcome in-“
The words die on your tongue when none other than Caleb steps over the threshold, stooping to avoid hitting his head on the low doorframe, though he’s unable to keep the tips of his fuzzy brown ears from brushing it. Your blood runs cold at the sight of him, the memories you’d been so successfully pushing away until now rising unbidden to the forefront of your mind.
He’s quite possibly the last person you’d expected to see today.
Caleb’s cleaned up in the few hours since last you saw him, linen shirt back to that off-white you know so well, not a trace of blood left on his chin. He looks… normal. Alarmingly so. So normal, in fact, that you briefly wonder if you’d hallucinated the entire encounter. In his right hand is not the neck of a mutilated deer, but rather, a small, neatly wrapped parcel, twine tied around it in a delicate bow.
Here, amidst the cozy atmosphere of your bakery, he’s nothing more than a man once again.
Caleb sends a warm smile your way, not quite meeting your eye as he wanders over to the counter, bending to inspect the loaves lining the shelves beneath it.
You watch him peruse the selection from the corner of your eye, unable to help your curiosity. Aside from this morning and his usual weekly visit, you haven’t seen Caleb much in recent days. He always seems to be cooped up in his butchery, likely getting ahead on his work, preserving what meat he can before winter arrives. Once, two weeks ago, you’d caught a glimpse of him from your window, headed in the direction of Zayne’s around dusk—whether to receive medical care or to simply pay the physician a visit, you don't know—but you hadn’t seen him since.
Caleb looks comedically large in your little shop, though most predators do. Your ancestors had built this cottage with rabbits like yourself in mind, never once considering how a wolf might have trouble navigating the small space. The difference between the two of you is jarring, but you’ve grown used to it living in this village. Predators are large, Caleb especially. He’s a big boy, the physically demanding nature of his occupation hardening his body, thick, corded muscle lining his large torso. He carries his weight well, his silhouette bulkier than most men you’ve known. Second only to Sylus, he’s one of the taller men in your village and easily towers over you, his bushy tail nearly as long as you are high.
You clear your throat awkwardly, attempting to bury the apprehension that lingers still. This is the Caleb you know… the Caleb you like. He’s nothing to be afraid of… you think.
“I have sweet loaves this week… I know you usually prefer the spiced ones, but…”
Finally, Caleb’s purple eyes find yours, quick to notice your discomfort, acutely aware of your hesitance. You're unsure of how to approach him, something that makes guilt twist in his stomach.
“No, um- well… uh-“ you’ve never seen Caleb struggle for words like this, fumbling like a newborn pup. He’s usually so talkative, carrying with him an air of confidence and an effortless charm that makes him popular amongst both men and women alike.
“I came to apologize,” when you don't respond, merely blinking at him, he clarifies, “…For earlier. I scared you.”
Oh.
Your bewilderment must show on your face because he rushes to fill the stunned silence, anxiously raking a hand through his bangs, pushing the chocolate strands back off his forehead, only for them to stubbornly fall back into place.
“You just surprised me. I didn't expect to run into anyone so early in the morning… or so far from the village,” he explains, “I was huntin.’”
“Hunting what?”
You can't help how quickly the question escapes you, not wanting to sound accusatory, but suspicious of his behavior nonetheless.
“Venison,” he answers, a hint of embarrassment sneaking into his voice, “Gids says the herd’s a bit thin this year… gonna have to get creative if we want to make it through Hibernation.”
Suddenly, things are lining up more clearly. Gideon’s cattle are the village’s primary source of protein, but if there had been fewer spring births than usual, Caleb would have to turn to other means. You’d never known how he procured his meat when calves were scarce, just known that he’d never failed to provide.
Still, you feel sorry for the deer for meeting such an untimely and gruesome end. Your people treat animals with the utmost respect, looking upon them with sympathy for having not been touched by evolution and blessed with higher intelligence like yourselves. You’d always given thanks for their sacrifice, praying their spirits might pass on in peace… a luxury that poor thing had not been gifted. But you cannot fault Caleb either, knowing he has the village’s well-being in mind.
“I see…”
The silence stretches between you, thick and charged, until Caleb once again breaks it, “You dropped your shawl when you… when you ran off.”
With that, he holds out the little package, his own silent version of a peace offering and apology.
“It had a bit of mud on it. Tried to get it out the best I could.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his expectant gaze. Shame for having ever doubted him creeps up your spine, especially after receiving such a thoughtful gesture.
As you move to take the parcel from him, pain flares in your behind, making you whimper pitifully, outstretched hands cringing inwardly to comfort yourself. Caleb’s ears swivel to attention as soon as the painful little noise leaves you, eyes raking over your form to find the source of your discomfort, nose twitching when your scent once again sours.
“Did you injure yourself when you fell? Where does it hurt? Do you need help? I can carry you to Zayne’s if you can’t walk,” a flurry of questions leaves him, protective instincts urging him to do something… anything.
Waving your hands dismissively, you steady yourself, attempting to put on a brave face lest you worry him, though you're not quite able to sponge away the grimace entirely, “No, no. It’s just a bit of bruising. I’ll be ok.”
Caleb shrinks back at your refusal, ears folding back submissively, making him look more like a kicked puppy than a wolf. A twinge of regret passes over you at the dejected look on his face, but he schools it into one of neutrality just as quickly, bending to your authority even against his better judgment.
“Alright, well… make sure to get it checked out if it gets worse,” you nod obediently, taking the shawl from him. A shiver prickles the back of your neck when his large hands brush yours in the trade off, the warmth of his skin gone just as soon as you’d felt it.
“I will. Promise.”
“Good girl… Gotta get back to my shop, but I’ll drop by later this week. Save a sweet loaf for me?”
His praise makes heat bloom across your cheeks, saliva sticking uncomfortably in your mouth. But when Caleb tosses you another friendly smile, it effectively dispels whatever strange tension had been growing between you, earning him a grin of your own in response.
“Sure, get back safely.”
“Will do.”
Then he’s gone. The door bangs shut with the whispers of something more, and you watch his figure retreat down the path, back toward the butchery. Even through the gloomy grey clouds, you can see the sun beginning its path of decent, the evening hours approaching quickly.
How very odd this day has turned out to be…
However, Caleb is right— you really ought to get checked out by the doctor. You simply cannot afford to let this injury fester into something worse. Too much is at stake this autumn. It’s with the mountain of work ahead of you and the Harvest Festival’s demands on your mind that you decide to pay Zayne, village physician and apothecary, a visit.
Just as the sun is beginning to dip below the horizon and your work is finished, you’ll make the journey out to his home. You can only hope your apologies for bothering him so late in the evening will be accepted and he’ll see you. After all, Zayne is a private man… one who doesn’t like being disturbed during personal hours.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 // 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
a/n: well, we finally made it through chapter two! thank you for your patience with this one… i hope it was well worth the wait! what do we think? is caleb really as sweet and friendly as he seems to be, or is the man you saw in the woods what’s been hiding beneath the surface all along? will you make it to the harvest festival, or crumble under the pressure? will gideon manage to charm simone? who knows? well… me i know, but soon you will too. i hope this chapter was immersive and easily digestible, giving you a proper feel for the world of snow dwellers and their village traditions. it’s going to be a long fall, but never fear! our lovely protagonists will support you all the way—doctor zayne especially, as he examines your bruised bum next chapter. thanks for reading!
taglist - @calebsfavoriteusedthong, @narratordog, @jellyelle, @tangerynsbaby, @boom-boom-back, @pookiei-bookie, @prettypeachprincesz, @justalittleminishnamedmouse, @reiofsuns2001… comment to join!
OH MY GOD WHY DOESN'T THIS HAVE MORE LIKES LIKE WHAT THE MCFUCK!? I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!! genuinely, i love the worldbuilding. i feel like i just learnt so much about the characters and this town. i absolutely love how you write the town and landscape in such a vivid way. like the words feel alive, if that makes sense? also caleb being so shy like awwww pookie🥺 but the descriptions of how damn jacked him and sylus are were 110% necessary😝 i'm so excited for the next chapter to meet zaynie hehehehehe. but seriously, there are so many possibilities with this story, and i'm so excited to see where it goes. i like this tension around the true caleb- like is he the friendly butcher or is he the blood-drenched hunter?
okay last thing idk if you've done this honey but PLEASE put this on ao3. like this would do so well over there!!!!! seriously like i can't tell you how many times i've thought about rabbitology (is this weird?) like the other day (tf am i saying this happened two weeks ago), i went to visit this like regional/rural town that my dad recently bought a house in. this town is like up in the mountains, like really far up, like i'm in the valley at the very base of the mountains and it took about 1hr 40mins to drive there. we went on a gloomy, foggy day. when i tell you- it was so beautiful and gothic, the mountains and the trees. like from the road, the trees cleared, and we looked down into a clearing/plateau where the town was situated before driving down there. driving through the town had twilight 2008 bella swan entering forks vibes. BUT okay BUT this is the part that really gave peak rabbitology. we came to the house that my dad bought, and the mountains and woods are so close to it. like i could see the fog amidst the trees, rising from the ground. it was genuinely the best fucking thing everrrrrrrr. i'll be moving there after i finish my degree, so like in 1-2 years, but yeah, it just reminded me of your fic.
i'm just so excited to see where things go!
why is it that i always meet the most unfunny men? (rant in the tags)
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popping in to show off my most recent purchase (pls ignore the makeup stains on my sweater). genuinely i'm cracking up pls what is this fan behaviour who am i? (this is how yk i'm going through it. whenever i get into caleb my mental health is 📉).
ALSO!! i just want to say thank you for all of the lovely comments i received on my hiatus announcement. i've read them all, and i'm so grateful to have such a loving community on here!
hi, my jelly beans! i'll be taking an indefinite hiatus (i.e. i could be back next week, next month, etc).
tumblr just hasn't been very fun lately, so i'm taking some time away for my mental health. uni is starting back up again, and i also want to work on some other creative projects at my own pace.
love sting! will still be updated on ao3. i'll also be posting other works on there (hopefully). if you're interested, you can subscribe to my works or to me to receive an email every time there's an update! this hiatus is from only tumblr.
thanks for all of your support and patience. i'll be back once i'm ready!
so desperate to get this historical fic accurate i've asked my question on reddit
someone actually responded😭😭😭 this fic is about to get even more historically inaccurate by the looks of things
☆ put this star in the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity ! 💕
wahhh you're too sweet pi!!😭😭😭
i can do it with a broken heart: caleb
wc: 568
a/n: yayy my first lil drabble/ blurb for my little writing event!! thank you for this ask (i'm so happy this was requested, i had a plan for this one hehe) i hope you like it!
caleb was good at pretending to be happy. he’d been doing it for most of his life- while being experimented on, while taking care of you in josephine’s house, and now.
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Tribute
So last month I yapped with @evilldentists that I have not been fangirling enough because I haven’t had a dream of Sylus yet.
It finally happened!!! A Sylus dream! and ✋😭 im crying laughing because it felt like a scene from an AU fic lmaoooo my subconscious is also trying to make fics 😭😭😂 Gave me a premise and I said bet, polished it to be presentable, hope you enjoy it like I did 😂
Tribal Chief!Sylus x Tribute Bride!Reader who can play the erhu. (Do you see? why it’s fun? I’m giggling) wc1.2k~ about 5 mins reading time. Somebody tell me if a hot kiss should be tagged as suggestive?
And yeeees the visuals are a vision ✨ I’m swooning.
hold me tight
fluff! reader and zayne are in high school lovers, zayne lowkey messes up big time, inspired by the hidden love scene where they're on a bus
the bus is packed. you look over to zayne who only sends you a concerned look. after politely pushing past people, you manage to find a spot to stand, holding onto the hooks attached to the ceiling.
zayne stands next to you, nodding as a silent way of saying to hold on for the next ten minutes.
the engine of the bus picks up again, and you grasp onto the handle tightly. more people somehow manage to get on, only making the place feel even tighter.
the bus starts moving again, the forward movement of the bus causes those behind you to subtly push into you, the tall height of the handle starting to leave an ache in your arm. but you don't pay much attention to it, only five more minutes left before your date with zayne truly starts.
at the next bus stop, a gentle hand relieves the ache from your arm. you look at zayne, who adjusts your free hand to hold onto his arm instead. he doesn't say anything, only removing the stray strand of hair covering your eyes.
“thank you.” you whisper, the sound of the other passengers drown out in the background.
“of course.” he nods, making sure you hold on tighter to him.
with two more stops to go, you forget about everything but zayne. the fresh smell of his cologne, the way his hair is parted so perfectly on his face, his—
the bus comes to an abrupt stop, causing you to lose your balance and crash into zayne. you fall into his embrace, hugging him like a koala stuck to a tree.
immediately, you scramble out of his arms and look away in embarrassment. “are you hurt?” zayne asks.
“no. but i looked like an idiot when i fell into you.” you bite your lip.
“i'm glad to know the feeling is mutual.” he replies and you try to process what he just said to you.
“you're glad i looked like an idiot?” you ask and you feel the old women looking at you and zayne in interest.
“no, of course not. my apologies, y/n, i did not mean it like that.” his ears start burning red. “what i meant was, i am glad that i am not the only one out of us that has fallen. as in, i have fallen for you.”
“well you could have just said it like that, you silly!” you let out a sigh of relief. “i wouldn't be on a date with you if i didn't fall for you either zayne.”
“this is a date?” your blood runs cold. “i thought our date began at the café, not the bus.” you take a deep breath in, regulating your emotions.
“you're really lucky i like you, zayne.” you mumble under your breath.
“sorry, what did you say?”
“don't worry your pretty head about it.” you get on your tiptoes, patting his head. “now come on, we have a date to get to!”
taglist: @snowypi @starkissedxav @violasepals @mrsqins @jellyelle @xinghuisknight @shionsunny @txtworlddom @erenophilic
dancing in the rain
fluff!! dancing in the rain with zayne, zaynie being a nervous lover boy again (but who is surprised? not me!)
drip drop. zayne feels his heart drop as wet patches cover the dry ground.
he knew it would rain, but thought he would be able to make sure he would send you home safe before the rain started.
but how was be meant to know that time simply flies with you by his side? you give him a childish grin, dropping your bag and his on the floor.
zayne’s heart begins to drum against the confines of his chest, your smile enough to have him spiralling.
without saying a word, you guide his arms around your waist as you place your arms on his neck. his mouth slightly opens in protest, but as your smile grows wider, he swallows down his remaining thoughts.
the rain grows stronger, leaving his clothes soaked with the material sticking to his body. but he doesn’t care, his gaze locked in on you.
“let’s dance, zaynie!” you giggle, fixing the hairs covering his vision. you sway in his arms, slowly warming him up to the dancing.
it doesn’t take long for zayne to give in, his heart swelling at how much sincerity and devotion he feels for you. he grasps one of your hands, twirling you around.
you squeal, coming back into his embrace, holding him tightly. he pulls you closer to him, your head leaning against his chest.
it doesn’t take a doctor to hear the wild sound of zayne’s heartbeat. but it doesn’t matter, because yours is exactly the same.
taglist: @snowypi @starkissedxav @mrsqins @jellyelle @violasepals @xinghuisknight @shionsunny @txtworlddom @erenophilic
a moth & a light
small town au xavier series part ix
synopsis: this beautiful thing continues to grow between you and xavier, and you become a bit bolder—as does he.
★pairing: xavier x f!reader ★wc: 8.4k ★content: fluff galore. the cute, giddy, still a little awkward stage of realizing your crush is returned. flirting! they're a tiny bit cringe but they're free. xavier reciting poetry. a lot of wanting to kiss but still being a bit shy. mc is lowkey a little horny too. ★a/n: crazy that in a month it'll be a year since I started this series. where does the time go? I'm sorry updates are so sporadic, but I still love this story so much and I'm so excited to share this chapter. (also thought this ch wouldnt be as long LOL) ★part viii ★read on ao3 ★series masterlist ★part x (coming soon)
The rest of the night felt like a whirlwind, stirred up in your chest and sweeping you away.
Even as you had sobered up under Xavier's watchful gaze, sipping at your water and snacking on pretzels at the kitchen counter while the party dwindled down, you felt buzzed. Your skin thrummed with heat, tingling just under his attention, sparking where your shoulder was pressed to his while you hunched together over his phone screen.
"This one's name is Puffball," he told you, pointing to the picture of the rotund yellow songbird. "He's my favorite, and he knows it."
You giggled, peering closer at the bird's talons wrapped around Xavier's slender finger in the photo.
"See, I knew you were a Disney princess," you teased, unable to help it.
When you looked up to see the perplexed look on his face, you couldn't help but laugh.
WOWZERS this was so good!! also happy belated birthday starry!!! but yeah omg i love how cute and flirty this fic was. i love seeing the two of them growing closer. and i love how direct xavier is being here!!! like yes pookie make me flustered. i think the imagery here really makes you feel how tangible xavier is. not morgan casually dropping some life-changing lore.
i love this line i think it's very funny like you get my humour yk: Or does he just naturally smell like fucking flower fields and angels? i also really like how you're like 'i'll surprise you during the break' and then not two seconds later he's like 'it's break time!' ahhhhhhhh
into the sun
SYNOPSIS: xavier is there for you, always
a/n: hihi!! as decided by my poll here is the Xavier comfort I promised #democracy, this started as a very self indulgent thought bc I had a horrible month last month but we are #up now !!! okay enough yap I hope u all enjoy and I hope this comforts at least one of u and makes u feel better <33 any thoughts and comments are v appreciated :3
warnings/tags: xavier x reader, lots of fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of spiraling and general sadness, not eating/taking care of self, xavier being a good bf, kind of early relationship, I think that's everything ! wc: 2.0k
masterlist
It was one of those months. The ones where your late night thoughts slowly get too comfortable in the daylight, pestering you while the sun shines on your skin, even when you’re trying to ignore them as you talk to a coworker. The kind of month where you tell yourself ‘I just have to get through this week’ every single week. The kind of month that tears you down until you feel like there’s no end in sight.
Xavier had noticed the bags under your eyes, he noticed how forced your smile was when talking to the others in the office. Most of all he noticed the way you barely spoke to him, where usual rambles and rabbit holes would be, he was met with short sentences, tight smiles and early goodbyes.
He didn’t push, he never did. He waited patiently, gave you gentle reminders of him always being available when it came to you. He listened as you gently rejected his third attempt at getting you out of your apartment to go somewhere that wasn't work.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
so desperate to get this historical fic accurate i've asked my question on reddit
pls drop random headcanons for the guys in the comments. i'll go first: i hc that sylus actually has brown nipples.
