- Invitation Status
- Not accepting invites at this time
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- I have Thursdays off between two jobs. I am usually available on Wednesdays and Sundays, too. I will usually respond in the evenings, if I can, on the days I work.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Fantasy, Romance, Medieval, Futuristic, Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Modern, Action, Adventure, some High-Fantasy, Lord of the Rings, Pacific Rim, King Arthur, anything Game of Thrones-esque
Rachelle snorted and glanced over at him, rolling her eyes to the ceiling before she rolled to her side and slightly over him, her black hair coming to drape around his face, shielding them. She smirked. "There WILL be one named Amelia and she will adore her daddy. She will look to her father to tell her she is beautiful and that he'll tear anyone apart who is mean to her. You'll have sons who will learn to hunt by your teachings and they will be fiercely protective of their mother and sister. They will respect you."
She bent down and nipped chin lightly, her voice soft. "They will not, however, all be named Sylvester." she teased.
Ryeth watched him carefully, nearly smacking him when he seemed to be initially dismissing her words as nothing. Then the appropriate shock came immediately afterward and she felt relieved by it. Even as she started to feel stressed, feeling how much worry he now felt. It matched her own and she knew she shook his arms from shock of her own and tentatively happy emotions she wasn't yet sure was okay to feel, was allowed almost.
When he asked if it was his, though... Ryeth did smack him then, over the head and she glared. "Of course it's yours!"
She let out a shuddering breath and looked at him with swimming eyes, her own emotions all over the place. "Are...are..." Her mouth worked for a moment before she could actually form the sentence. "Are you...happy?" Because she was terrified.
She bent down and nipped chin lightly, her voice soft. "They will not, however, all be named Sylvester." she teased.
Ryeth watched him carefully, nearly smacking him when he seemed to be initially dismissing her words as nothing. Then the appropriate shock came immediately afterward and she felt relieved by it. Even as she started to feel stressed, feeling how much worry he now felt. It matched her own and she knew she shook his arms from shock of her own and tentatively happy emotions she wasn't yet sure was okay to feel, was allowed almost.
When he asked if it was his, though... Ryeth did smack him then, over the head and she glared. "Of course it's yours!"
She let out a shuddering breath and looked at him with swimming eyes, her own emotions all over the place. "Are...are..." Her mouth worked for a moment before she could actually form the sentence. "Are you...happy?" Because she was terrified.