#accept export goods

[drainbangle]

There's something about the book of scripture found in the cathedral. Something... suspicious.

Drawing Temenos in my favorite mystery games' art styles for enrichment. Temenos Mistral stars in the case of Moonlit Misfortune— ...or something like that.

[liljakonvalj]

I have a lot of beef with what happened during the blank period, and after in the Boruto series. But one thing that was done right was having Sakura found and run a children's mental therapy center. Sakura who grew up surrounded by traumatized orphans (Naruto, Sasuke, Kakashi, Sai, Yamato), and saw how children suffer through war and strife (as early as in the wave arc), really said as soon as she herself became an adult: this is never happening again. Not on my watch.

It is such a love letter to all her boys, and I honestly get quite moved each time I stop and think about it.

[cjgladback]

[ID: Short video of two identical 3D rendered eight-inch C-clamps, upright on a taupe background. The body of the clamps is black cast iron while the parts that would move are copper. The clamps and camera are unmoving but overlays wipe transition from right to left, first a gradient over the background then wireframes over the clamps. The closer clamp has a much more detailed mesh, primarily grids of four-sided polygons, very dense on the screw-threaded shaft. The back clamp's shaft is a simple cylinder and it has many triangles visible on the body. The final overlay labels the back clamp with 4.77 thousand tris, the foreground clamp 71.09 thousand tris or 1.14 million tris when subdivided twice. The loop finishes by removing the gradient and then the overlays. End ID]

So about that "maybe I'll make an LOD1 of the clamp, too" thought. I now get to figure out where I should offer this as an asset for purchase and how I should format that deliverable. Ko-fi will be the easy option since they already have my payment information, whereas Sketchfab has some traffic coming in for the freebies already so it would make sense to offer there as long as fees or time overhead isn't obscene. If you have advice as a seller or purchaser of 3D assets, please feel free to share!

[occamstfs]

Actually, They're Called Tetrominoes

Been holding out on some kinda Video Game trigger, here's a bit of an odd Russian cultural/racial TF, enjoy! -Occam

Michael could stand to be a more pleasant person. Day to day he is a pretty run of the mill head-down kinda guy, amicable but never really goes out his way to chat or make friends. Instead he finds his free time often used to prowl the internet looking for people to torment online in whatever way he finds funny at the moment. Born too late to be a goon on SomethingAwful he typically pages through Reddit threads and communities looking for someone sensitive or cartoonishly argumentative.

This is precisely where he finds himself tonight, being a pedant on some video game thread that he doesn’t truly care about. Some presumably Russian user, u/ZandrIvnov, seems to be quite proud of Tetris which Michael finds incredibly amusing. As an American he too takes pride in many of the cultural exports and ideas that his nation has sent into the world, including many of the deeply entrenched ideas about the Russian and Soviet people taught in world history. It takes especially little for him to decide to start taunting and baiting this man sitting at his keyboard a world away.

Michael launches petty taunts at the Russian, poking fun at his nationality and Eastern Europe at large, stopping short at making fun of the man’s less than perfect English, for now at least. Michael switches between accounts to upvote his responses and even add additional dunks on the Tetris-fan as needed. Try as he might though to get the conversation away from the ancient game and get some more personal and profane digs in there he finds it difficult to find any truly satisfying or clever insults.

Getting tired of hearing this man assert Russian superiority he prepares to pull the ripcord and move on before he sees the Russian misstep talking about the game he’s so invested in, as probably the only fun fact he has on deck comes to mind. After the Russian so eloquently compares Michael’s head to a Tetris piece Michael immediately replies, “okay lol big fan huh they’re actually called tetrominoes” and then moves on to find some other doofus to bully on the internet.

On the other side of the screen Sasha seethes at the man, so juvenile in his mockery “Проклятые американцы. (Fucking Americans.)” He takes to his own keyboard messaging Michael directly as his arrogant messages dry up in the thread proper, Sasha was going to have him put his money where his mouth was. He offers a challenge, “u americans are so proud da? how about we see whos country rly is the best”

Michael felt his pulse rise in excitement at how much he has truly bothered this man. Smug smile on his face as he types his response, “what did u have in mind, Zander?”

“Саша(Sasha) is my name. since u are so smart about tetris, why not see who is actual master of game da?” Sasha offers, knowing already that the troll is sure to accept out of pride alone. Michael wasn’t all that much of a gamer but surely he could show this dweeb what’s what yeah? He starts looking up tips to win Tetris as he replies “sure whatever dude, what are u thinkin”

Sasha smirks as he has Michael right where he wants him, “loser agrees with winner about national superiority? should not be problem if you americans are so good at every thing” Michael was already eager to give it a go and Sasha’s taunt only makes him all the more raring to go. Before he can even pause his meager attempt to study strategy, Sasha sends over a link to the game and Michael clicks over to play, leaving the cheat sheet open on a second monitor. 

Michael types his name into the game and finds himself looking at a familiar screen. He’s never played the game competitively but it’s a pretty simple game right? He just needs to keep his cool once the pieces start flying in. He gets the cheeky idea to check the cheat sheet in between pieces. That’s that good-old red white and blue ingenuity, Michael thinks. Unaware that these are of course also of the Russian flag. There’s a ping from the board as Sasha uses the in game chat to ask “u understand the rules da”

Michael sends back a thumbs up and Sasha sets the game going. It is predictably uneventful at the beginning, neither man making any particularly interesting plays. Michael continues to skim how to best cheat the game while Sasha waits for the perfect moment to fuck him over. Michael finds himself enjoying the game more than he thought he would as he hears the familiar tune, it is awfully catchy isn’t it? He’s gotta hand it to the soviets for that. His gameplay slows down as he tries to speedread the page on his other monitor. Instead of forcing pieces quickly he instead lets them drift slowly while his board is relatively clear. Sasha sees this and decides to go in for the kill.

Suddenly as Michael’s eyes wander away from the game for just a second too long there is an unfamiliar sound. He darts his attention back only to see the floor of his Tetris board rocket up in response to Sasha doing an impossibly well timed combo of lines. Michael’s heartbeat increases at a shocking rate in response as losing becomes a very real possibility. Why is he so upset? His face grows red as he realizes just how outclassed he is. Obviously this is no big deal right? Just a game. But Michael cannot help but feel physically uncomfortable as the tides start to turn so swiftly. 

There is suddenly a crick in his neck that he stretches to avail but only exacerbates as a soreness begins to spread further across his body. Man is he tensing up too much? It’s just, it’s just a game right? Trying to calm down he is hit with the thought as if it were a shot of adrenaline that he absolutely cannot lose this game. His eyebrows furrow as they begin to square and thicken, casting dark shadows over his rage-filled eyes. His limbs take turns cramping as he clenches his neck and jaw to distract from the pane, not noticing as the structure of his face begins to change. 

His chest grows to join the chorus of muscle spasms as Michael struggles to keep up with even Sasha’s slower gameplay. Across the seas Sasha takes his time, knowing victory is in the bag, and savoring what he knows must be happening to his little troll Michael right now. He smirks as he imagines the discomfort in Michael’s changing body as he feels warmth grow in his own chest, and crotch, as he decides just how much he wants to play with his food. 

Back in the states Michael finds the heat, the sweat, the tightness of his clothes increasingly unbearable. As he continues to mash buttons on his remote he is too intent on the game to notice as hair begins to darken around his forearms and begin to snake its way towards his hands. He rubs them each down to placate the tickle on his growing arms. This is absolutely nothing to the creeping itch that is starting to encompass the entirety of his rapidly expansive legs. He shifts his heavier thighs trying to soothe the discomfort, making a loud sound as they pull away from the sweat sticking them to the chair but not allaying the soreness or itch in the slightest.

He grunts and notices not how his voice has grown both deeper and gruffer in his throat. Michael struggles to keep the remote from slipping out of his hands as sweat trickles down from his hairy arms and into his palms. Before it becomes a problem however Michael takes advantage of the lull in Sasha’s gameplay and tries to quickly remove his far too strained shirt. It should be a simple task after all, just put the remote down for a second, slide it off, and then back to the game. He does a brief check in to ensure he has even that and after believing he does Michael starts to try and remove the shirt strained and sticking to his skin.

He has precious little time as the pieces continue to fall at their set pace in game. He gets one hand under the hem of his shirt and tries to wrench it while keeping his other hand on the controller, this lets in a breeze of cold air sending quivers of pleasure across his pulsating muscle, as well as igniting a burning ache in his chest and torso. His upper body grows even further, finally overfilling his shirt as the sound of tears ring out in his bedroom alongside the same repetitive folk song he knows well. The idea that this shirt was loose fitting when he threw it on this morning or that he just identified the Tetris theme as a folk song rather than an 8-bit annoyance don’t have a chance to come to mind as he struggles to remain focused on not losing the game.

He pulls the shirt up to his chest before it gets uncomfortably stuck “Ach, bog uh- god damnit.” He scratches at his chest as the soreness and growing muscle makes way for a fiery prickling as the few chest hairs he has been a tad ashamed of begin to thicken and darken on his chest. Swirling out from his nipples and inching higher on his chest with each breath, he continues to struggle to remove himself mindlessly. Finding his shirt caught on his expansive pecs he rubs his hand underneath it across his sweaty chest, and finding it pleasurably drag through more hair on his pecs than he would’ve sworn he had in his pubes, he resolves to remove the shirt however he can. 

As soon as he finishes a line Michael tosses the remote down and goes to raise his shirt above his head, his thicker arms struggling as they adjust to their new range of motion. He wrests the tight shirt above his head, his chest bursting large once more, freed from the garment as the breeze tickles the sweat covered chest hair and forces his enlarged nipples to harden. Having overcome his suddenly massive pecs the neckline is now caught on his chin, his arms raised high above his head expose his pits to the cold open air. He feels the air con blow against his recently shaved pits as the hair begins to grow back. It starts to catch as the hair begins to grow thicker and longer than it had ever done before, curling together as new hairs begin to push out and form a bush thick enough to never see the skin beneath again.

This also brings his attention to new development in his body, with his face shoved into his shirt it would be impossible not to notice the unbecoming amount of sweat soaking it. Arms raised though he finally notices that he has an altogether far more powerful scent, on par with a macro-obsessed body builder or hygiene-phobic wild man. Michael feels a beard start to push out into the shirt still hugging his face. Shaving once a month was more than enough to keep him clean shaven but now he knew deep in his mind that he would never have a day again where his face would be smooth. It’s that Ru- That American blood in him, right?

He begins to feel himself lost in the scent as his mind begins to grow distracted, attention fading from the game despite the looping tune filling his mind. He turns his head to smell his pits through his shirt which is when he hears the dreaded sound of Sasha making a combo once more, “Gah! Nyo, I can’t lose” he shouts, not noticing as his rough tone begins to develop a slight accent. Ending the long-standing struggle against his shirt he simply rips it off and jumps for the controller, ashamed at how foolish and lustful he has suddenly found himself in the middle of this all-important competition.

He needs to make his people proud! He cannot let Amerika down, ya? His focus and vision return to the game as he stumbles through one more line before all the pieces fall from view and the game declares Sasha the winner. Mikael reflexively pounds his table shouting, “Ny- no! I, this!” struggling to find any words to make his loss okay. Unable to notice just how bizarre this game has affected him, though sure that something grave has occurred. He scrambles to the chat box where he sees Sasha has yet again beaten him to the punch, “gg Брат(brother) yes?”

Mikael’s eyes don’t even notice the language switch in the message as he quickly races to demand a rematch. Punching keys slower than the career-cyberbully is accustomed to, almost as if he would be more comfortable with a different keyboard format, slowly he punches his response “one more best dva out of tri ya?” Sasha laughs out loud seeing Mikael suddenly typing out anglicized Russian. He smirks and squeezes his crotch in excitement at just how far this American brat has fallen into his hands. Sasha responds in full Russian knowing that Mikael may as well already be his countryman. “конечно, почему бы и нет, брат (sure why not, brother)”

Mikael smiles as he prepares for yet another go against Sasha, he’s eager to learn from his, uh? Suddenly he can’t quite remember how he knows Sasha exactly as his memories of his persistent pathetic history of being a troll begins to fade from his mind. As the Tetris theme starts once more with the game Mikael finds himself singing along as the words to the folk song it is based on, blushing at the vulgarity therein.

The race is on once more and though he was sure this was a competition against his friend, no, his брат(brother), Sasha, He can’t help but feel a giddiness as the game progresses. He feels a warmth in his chest just from playing a game of his childhood, of his country? No he’s a born and bred statesman da? He’s from, uh Moscow is a city in one of the states too da? Though he finds himself distracted his body continues to expertly control the game subconsciously.

He blushes as he struggles to remember where he grew up, it was a smaller town for sure. Somewhere very far North for sure, after all why else would he grow so hairy! He launches into a hearty laugh as body hair continues to push out from every pore in his body, sure to be peaking out from every shirt collar on both sides. He scratches at his pubes as it becomes clear that even besides his massive package there will evermore be a bulge in his pants from this unkept jungle as well. 

His eyes continue to follow the pieces up and down as they slowly begin to lighten and bleach themselves an icy blue. The itchiness that has made itself at home through the whole of its body is replaced with a burning pleasure as he thinks oh his home. Full days where there is only sun, long treks into the city to visit St. Basil’s, helping his mother fry pirozhki. The hair atop his head bleaches itself a sandy blonde while still thickening and pulling itself short as a lightbulb goes off in his head his voice rumbles in his chest as he reflexively speaks in what must be his mother tongue, “Конечно! я спрошу у Саши (Of course! I’ll just ask Sasha).” 

He goes to pause the game as he now knows he can do and types to Sasha in chat, “hey брат, wher am i от again?” Sasha smirks at just how easy this was stopping short from fully masturbating as he thinks of his new massive countryman living a world away as he replies, “недалеко от Москвы, Миша (just outside of Moscow, Misha).”

Misha’s eyes glaze over as he reads this, the room around him changes, American flags familiar patterns shift into the Russian tricolor. Any writing within the room shifts from English to the cyrillic alphabet and Misha sits there with a smile as he recalls his home. Long winters working alongside his best friend Sasha. His neck thickens and his waist expands as he thinks of long nights drinking alongside his friends to abate the cold. The game of Tetris continues on and he again feels a warmth in his chest at the chance to play with his dearest Друг(friend) Sasha.

For the life of him he can’t quite remember why he has moved to Америки though he is sure that Sasha will know. Sasha always knows the right thing to do. One thing is for sure though, he is going to do his Motherland proud.

[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 1)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

It was about four months ago when you met him, this blue-eyed stranger who would change your life forever. It was as if you had stepped into the unknown, shedding your old, familiar skin. He made your head spin with his charm and allure for the unknown.

When you talked to him for the very first time, it was as if you had known each other for years. He listened to you, and you felt as though he truly understood who you were and what you needed in life.

Despite being over 12 years older than you , Thomas Shelby made you feel safe and wanted, desired and accepted. You never felt such a connection to someone who had such an intense personality as Thomas and, most importantly for all, he showed you respect.

Thomas (or Tommy as you called him) was a wealthy business man from Birmingham and whilst you did not know much about his business activities, you knew that he was responsible for import and export of goods such Tabacco and cars.

With both of your parents not having survived the sinking of the Titanic, you had no one but yourself to stand up for and take care of yourself until Tommy came into your life.

He took you in and took care of you a few months ago, admiring your inner strength and determination to overcome all the challenges that life had thrown at you ever since you had turned 16, which was almost three years before you met him, your soon to be husband.

You were 19 years old when you met the 32-year-old in a pub named the Garrison shortly after you had started working there behind the bar. That night, Tommy had saved you from some unwanted attention from some other patrons and as you sat together that night, your connection was undeniable, palpable. Every guess or gut feeling you had ever had about your future guesses or dreams was confirmed in an instant. This was the moment that would change it all.

Fast-forward a bit and soon you found yourself living in Tommy's mansion, which you had yet to fully discover. The mansion was home to your own magnificent bedroom, Surreal wallpapers, wax-leafed walls, brass fixtures, and white porcelain handles.

It was surreal coming from almost living on the street to this and when Tommy asked you to marry him a few weeks ago,  you accepted blindly only thinking of the safety and love he gave you.

The wedding ceremony itself was small, with only some of his family in attendance. You were his second wife; his first wife having died four years ago and this was something that did not bother you. You accepted him with all as his baggage, just as he accepted you.

***

Having respected your wishes not to engage in any sexual activities before marriage, you two waited for the big night, anticipating the pleasure of having each other's bodies.

Tommy had told you through the weeks leading up to your wedding day that he would be gentle, as he assumed you were still a virgin and had no experience with men. He also told you that he would teach you everything there was to know about sex, which was a prospect that excited you. 

You knew that being abstinent for more than four months, must have been difficult for a man his age, and you couldn't help but admire him for his respect towards you and your decision to wait until your wedding night.

Unlike many other men, he said that he had no interest in the services of prostitutes and you believed him. He showed you that intimacy was not just about sex but more about the emotional connection between two people. But as each day passed, the tension between you two grew stronger and stronger.

The big night finally arrived. You had taken a bath, washing your whole body using a lavender-scented soap and then slid your body gently into a silky nightgown that you had bought in an expensive store downtown especially for you wedding night. As you looked at the mirror, you could not help but feel a bit nervous.

Tommy knocked gently on your door and after a short moment, he opened it up.

As you stood there in your nightgown, he couldn't help but stare. His eyes wandered over every bit of your body, and you could see the hunger in his eyes from a mile away.

Approaching you, he gently took your hand and drew you closer to him. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, making your core tighten. 

"You are beautiful, Love," Thomas whispered in your ear, brushing a loose tendril of hair from your face, his breath warm against your skin.

He then took hold of your left hand again and tenderly kissed your wedding ring – a token of your eternal love. Your heart raced and your nerves tingled at his tender display of affection. Your cheeks felt flushed and the room seemed to be spinning as the moment you'd been waiting for your entire life was finally about to happen.

Your hands felt clammy and you were struggling to find the words to respond to the man you'd married.

"Tommy," you gasped. "I want you," you stammered, looking up into his sharp, handsome face.

He caught your gaze with a knowing smile. "Good, because I want you too," Thomas said, with his eyes blazing and expectant.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt yourself being swept away on a tide of anticipation and desire.

Thomas stood in front of you, his fingers tracing the outline of your delicate collarbone.

He leaned in to softly kiss your quivering lips. His tongue danced upon yours for a mere moment before he pulled away. Slowly, he unbuttoned your night dress and let it fall gently to the floor, revealing your perky, young breasts to the cool air of the bedroom.

He took a moment to admire your inexperienced and vulnerable beauty before he began to trail kisses down your neck, across your chest, and onto your sensitive nipples.

"Oh God," you gasped, your hands clenching in his thick, dark hair as he teased you with his mouth.

"You like that, do you?" Thomas whispered, a wicked grin on his face.

The heat between your thighs became unbearable. You wanted him to do more, to touch you there, to do away with the last scraps of clothing that separated you from the man you married.

"Why don't you lie down for me, Love?" Thomas suggested, as he began to remove his own clothes.

You nodded eagerly, unable to find your voice in the intensity of the moment. Your breath hitched as you watched him undress. His muscled chest and chiseled abdomen were revealed to you as he shed his shirt, and your mouth went dry as he removed his trousers to stand proudly before you.

You laid back against the plush, velvet pillows, feeling self-conscious about your own nakedness in front of such a strong, confident man.

You noticed that his member stood tall and rigid, ready to claim you as his.

"Stop looking at my cock and lay back, Sweetheart," Thomas chuckled, sensing your discomfort. "I promise I won't hurt you," he then reassured you and you swallowed hard, nodding in compliance as you scooted further up on the bed.

Thomas followed, crawling up the bed with a seductive grace. He settled between your thighs and you trembled with anticipation.

"Open for me," Thomas whispered, his fingers lightly tracing your slick folds.

You whimpered at the sensation of his touch, your body tensing as he explored you intimately. Slowly, you obeyed his demand and allowed your legs to fall open. You felt exposed and vulnerable, but also safe in Thomas' arms, which held you with a protectiveness you needed in this new and uncertain moment.

"Good girl," Thomas praised, his fingers circling your clit with a tantalizing slowness. "You are already so nice and wet for me, eh?"  Thomas whispered, a suggestive smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as Thomas began to circle your clit with his thumb, all the while keeping his fingers buried inside of you.

"You are so beautiful Y/N. I am a lucky man," Thomas murmured, sensing your pleasure at his touch.

You nodded again, too caught up in the euphoria of the moment to find your voice.

Thomas began to thrust his fingers back and forth, his thumb continuing to rub your clit in slow, steady circles.

You threw your head back and moaned, your hips moving with a mind of their own. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting close to the edge.

"Let go for me, Love," Thomas whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let yourself go. I promise you'll enjoy it."

With those words, something inside of you snapped. You closed your eyes and let the waves of pleasure wash over you, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm.

"That's it," Thomas murmured, his voice full of satisfaction. "That's my good girl. You're so beautiful when you cum, sweetheart," Thomas said, his voice thick with lust as he brushed a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead.

You smiled weakly, still catching your breath after the powerful release you had just experienced. You had never felt anything like that before and you couldn't believe how intensely Thomas had been able to make you feel.

"I love you Tommy ," you whispered, half-ashamed of the needy tone in your voice.

Thomas kissed you softly, his lips tasting of salt and lust. "I love you too, my wife," he said, before his hand started to wander down your body again.

His fingers found your wetness once more and he stroked you gently before, finally, climbing on top of you.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Love," Thomas whispered, his breath hot against your cheek as he teased your entrance with his tip.

"Please be gentle , Tommy," you pleaded, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer size and intensity of Thomas' manhood.

He nodded, his eyes blazing with desire. "Of course, Sweetheart. I'll be as gentle as I can," he said and, with that, he slowly began to push himself inside of you.

You gasped at the initial pain and pressure of his penetration, clutching onto the sheets as he filled you up completely.

Thomas paused for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Are you alright, Love?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you tried to relax and accommodate his girth.

"Yes, I'm okay," you assured him, and Thomas began to thrust in and out of you with slow, deliberate movements.

At first, it felt foreign and slightly painful, but as Thomas' rhythm gradually picked up speed, your discomfort gave way to a growing sense of pleasure and desire.

"You feel so good, Sweetheart," Thomas groaned, as he plunged deeper and deeper inside of you.

Your legs wrapped around Thomas' waist, drawing him closer still, as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

You had never experienced such intense pleasure before, and you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to the precipice of climax.

You clung to Thomas, your fingernails digging into the taut muscles of his back as you moaned and gasped beneath him.

"Oh, God, Tommy," you panted, your hips bucking to meet his thrusts. "I think I'm going to cum again."

Thomas' eyes blazed with a fierce hunger as he drove himself deeper inside of you, your bodies slapping together in a primal dance.

"That's right, Love. Cum for me," Thomas growled, his voice low and husky.

"I want to feel you tighten around me, Love. I want to hear you scream my name while I make you come."

With those filthy words, Thomas thrust deeper and harder into you, sending wave after wave of pulsating pleasure surging through your body.

"Yes, Tommy! Yes!" you screamed, your voice mingling with his deep, guttural grunts.

"Fuck, you feel so tight and warm. So fucking good," Thomas groaned, sweat dripping from his brow as he plunged into your depths again and again.

"Don't cum inside me ," you gasped, suddenly remembering a crucial detail as you had previously discussed that you were not yet ready to have children with him. 

"I won't," Thomas groaned. "But I need to feel you a little longer. You just feel too good around my cock, Love," Thomas pleaded as he continued to drive himself in and out of you with wild, untamed passion.

You could feel another orgasm building within you, and you knew it would be powerful. You wanted to hold off for as long as possible, wanting to savor every exquisite sensation that Thomas was eliciting from your hyper-sensitive body.

But your pleasure took over and you succumbed to the tidal wave of ecstasy that washed over you. You screamed his name as you squeezed your thighs around his flexing hips.

"Good girl," Thomas panted in your ear, swirling his hips as he forced yet another powerful orgasm from your aching flesh. "So good. So, so fucking good."

You arched your back and collapsed against the bed, trembling beneath him as pain, pleasure, shame and wonderment coursed through your veins like liquid fire.

"Fuck, I am going to cum," Thomas groaned, the thickness of his cock throbbing within you before pulling out quickly and spraying sticky streaks of semen over your stomach, breasts, and bedsheets.

Both of you were breathing heavily as the room filled with the scent of your mutual pleasure, stocks damp with your fluids and mixed with the evidence of his release on your skin.

Neither of you spoke for a few moments, enjoying the quiet moment of contentment that came on the heels of such intense satisfaction.

Thomas broke the silence, removing evidence of his release from your body, as one would clean a precious piece of artwork after its masterpiece was finished.

"Did I hurt you, Love?" Thomas asked, his eyes softening as they met yours.

"No, I-I wanted that," you admitted, your body still shivering from the intense pleasure. "It was perfect," you told him, and he smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly, recalling how long he wanted to do this. 

Unbeknownst to you, he had been wanting you for many years and now, finally, you were his. His wife. His possession. His triumph.

Tags:

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[onegirlatelier]

April, 2024 | Shetland lace shawl

Hi there! It’s been a while. I’ve been kept busy by all my university work…and this shawl.

The shawl is knitted to celebrate the wedding of my friend (now friends, I should say). A wedding is really the perfect excuse for all the heritage crafts and heirloom projects that might seem too serious to gift in other occasions. I did ask the recipient beforehand if she would like it, though, and I was so, so honoured that I got an enthusiastic ‘yes’. I’m sure this sentiment is shared by many makers, whatever gift they are making.

Shetland fine openwork, a knitted lace, seems to have emerged with the beginning of the reign of Queen Victoria, who championed and popularised the craft. It was probably spread from the Isle of Unst to other parts of Shetland. What surprised me the most when I first read about it was that Shetland shawls and other lace pieces were largely exported as luxury items and rarely worn by islanders themselves. Women bought yarn from spinners and knitted mostly in their homes. They then took them to local merchants and exchange the finished objects for goods or (commonly after the 1880s) money to supplement the household income. The ‘supplement’ nature of this work probably means it was not compensated as much as a job outside the home would be for the same hours and skills. Besides, it was not always easy to spin an even 1-ply yarn at 1600 metres per 100 grams. For a piece of knitting with a large ‘plain’ area (i.e. only knit stitches), the unevenness was impossible to hide but could only be discovered after the area was worked. Then the maker had to either frog (unravel) the area or continue with the risk of the whole piece not being able to sell.

Whilst it is very reasonable to point out that Shetland ladies did not usually wear this type of lace (I’ve been to the Scottish Highlands once, in summer, and it was not fine lace weather), I imagine that at least for some, it wasn’t just about making money. Some sort of fulfilment must have been from the satisfaction of having a piece ‘properly done’ by continuing and adapting a traditional pattern, technique or material. I think this sort of satisfaction is also why many modern knitters are willing to spend hundreds of hours on lacework.

Intricate handknitted lace items can still be bought today (a quick search on Etsy would show many are form eastern European countries with a long and prominent craft tradition), but many are knitted for friends or family members. It always makes me so happy to see people share the gifts they have made, whether big or small, simple or complex. I joke with my online craft friends that no handmade fibre project can claim to be so unless they have a hair or two woven into it. It is the proof of existence for the maker, who tries to go against the irregular nature of handicrafts and, at the same time, accepts it. It is about wrapping up hours, weeks or months in one’s life, along with the songs they have listened to and the perfume they have worn and the memories they have made, and putting it squarely in someone else’s hands and saying: ‘All this, for you.’

A Wedding Shawl

I have not read anything about there being a standard form of ‘wedding shawl’ in the Shetland tradition. However, there is definitely a category of square shawls with similar sizes and a few construction methods. The samples I’ve seen mostly measure 1.5-2m on one side and have three parts: a central panel, four borders and a strip of edging. It is worked flat in garter lace from centre out.

Neither is there a standardised yarn weight. A widely available yarn is the Shetland Supreme Lace Weight 1-ply by Jamieson and Smith, which weighs at 400m/25g. The Queen Ring Shawl examined by Sharon Miller used a yarn at 700m/25g. From my experience, if you want the shawl to be a true ring shawl (i.e. you want to be able to pull the shawl through a ring) at the size of the Queen Ring Shawl (210cm on the side), go for 700m/25g or finer.

I chose a rectangular shawl because I had very limited time, but I did enlarge it because for me, an abundance of fabric does mean an abundance of cozy happiness.

Pattern

Shell Grid and Spider Webs Puzzle, pattern No.19 in the book Shetland Knitting Lace by Toshiyuki Shimada.

The names of the motifs are confusing. One motif (or two highly similar motifs) might just have two different names if they are produced in two different regions. Names do not mean everything, but I’ve had fun trying to match the motifs with names according to this article by Carol Christiansen at the Shetland Museum.

The double yarnovers (YO's) in the diamonds were called Cat's Eye, but perhaps the 'Spider Web' in the pattern name is referring to the three rows of double YO's in the centre panel. It has a really simple but effective edging.

Yarn

Mermaid Lace, in colourway #naturel, sold by Great British Wool in the Netherlands. This yarn is 75% merino and 25% sea algae silk. ‘Sea algae silk’ seems to be a semi-synthetic plant fibre like viscose, with algae involved as part of the raw material. (At this price point I don’t think it has anything to do with sea silk, which is fibre produced by actual shells.) The brand name for the most popular product of its type is probably Seacell.

I bought the yarn, because I had never worked with this fibre before and was curious. What I like: it was a little cheaper than a wool/silk blend and has blocked very well. The whole skein was continuous so I didn’t have to deal with a single yarn joint. What I do not like: it lacks the sheen and smoothness of real silk and doesn’t feel as strong, although it doesn’t shed. In conclusion, I’d rather use a traditional Shetland 1-ply or another natural fibre yarn.

It's also worth mentioning that whilst I prefer to support small businesses, it was disappointing to have received a 93-gram skein when I had ordered 100 grams. It was one of those days between Christmas and the New Year and I somehow did not contact the customer service, but I really should have.

Needle

2.5mm 80cm circular needles. See modification below.

Modification

This Japanese knitting book follows Japanese sizing for knitting needles. The suggested size was no. 1=2.4mm. I figured that I could use a 2.5mm since I knitted on the tighter side, and in any case it was probably okay to make the lacework a little more open by going up a needle size.

I am not going to give out the pattern, but it is probably necessary to explain the structure of this shawl. The centre is knitted first, and then an edging is knitted onto it by picking up either live stitches or the vertical edge of the centre as you go (see schematic below). The four ‘corners’ of the edging have short-row shaping to help it lay flat. I know that traditionally people can achieve this by other methods, but I haven’t tried any of those yet.

I enlarged the pattern by increasing both the width and the length. I casted on 133 stitches instead of 101 for the centre panel and knitted Part B 8.5 times instead of 5.5. The spider web pattern in Part B requires the stitch count to be (something dividable by four) plus two, so I made one central increase before the spider web to get 134 and a central decrease after it to get it back to 133. Due to the openness of the lace, the change of one stitch is not visible.

The enlargement meant I had to recalculate the edging as well, because the number of stitches available for pick-up changed. Originally, at each corner you do two repeats with four short-row shaping each. I did 1.5 repeats following the original placement of short-row shaping in order to make the total number of repeats fit the number of edge stitches on the centre panel.

The pattern says to Kitchener-stitch the last row of the edging to the provisional cast-on. It just didn’t make sense because that would be two rows too much (the Kitchener stitch row plus the provisional cast-on row). To make the number perfectly fit, I knitted only ten rows of the last repeat (there were usually twelve in each repeat). Then I Kitchener-stitched the end to the provisional cast-on, following the lace pattern. I am quite proud of this solution because it is completely invisible.

Somewhere in the pattern it said to purl (looking from the right side). It seemed strange because the rest of the lace was entirely garter. I knitted those stitches and so far I haven’t sensed a ‘mistake’.

The pattern originally calls for 45 grams of yarn. I estimated (based on the increase of stitches in the centre panel) to need about 80 grams. I ended up using 86 grams. Besides the inaccuracies in my estimation, it was probably also because I knitted much more loosely than expected as it was difficult to tension the yarn tightly at such a weight. Like I've point out in the Yarn section above, I was lucky not to have needed more than 93 grams.

The original finished size is 53*118cm. I ended up with approximately 70*170cm.

Conclusion

This shawl took about three months of my craft time i.e. one full day every week for three months and many mornings before I had to leave for university. Knitting outside my room just didn’t work because I was a) engaged in some other activities that made it difficult to steady my hands, and b) worried about putting a white shawl on any public surface.

The pattern itself is relatively straightforward. The first difficulty was, of course, to understand the instruction written in Japanese. Google translate was horrible so I had to rely on my knitting experience. Fortunately, much of the text description was also found in graphs and charts. Then I had to get my hands used to the tiny yarn. After that, it was only fiddly when I did the edging, because I had to turn about every twelve stitches, and by that time I was handling a giant cloud of stitches on my lap. It did give me a lot of time to go over my favourite documentaries and films, and the last bit of edging was surprisingly quick!

Traditionally, Shetland shawls could be sent back to the maker for maintenance. I think it only fair for me to offer that too because I don’t want a gift to become a trouble (same as how you do not use non-machine-washable yarn for baby knits).

In general, I am very pleased with this shawl. It does pass the ring test, despite not being a traditional wedding shawl size or thickness. I do have a whole lot of actual Shetland 1-ply in my stash, so I am really looking forward to taking my Queen Ring Shawl project out of hibernation in the near future.

Reference list for Introduction

Christiansen, Carol. Shetland fine lace knitting: Recreating patterns from the past. Marlborough: Crowood, 2024.

Mann, Joanna. 'Knitting the Archive: Shetland Lace and Ecologies of Skilled Practice'. Cultural Geographies 25, no. 1 (January 28, 2017): 91–106. https://doi.org/10.1177/1474474016688911.

[stoat-party]

Fallout 4: Where is the Lone Wanderer?*

*a vague conspiracy theory which doesn’t actually answer the question at hand. We all have our own ideas of how the lore should go, and I’m sure yours is very canon-compliant and valid, but this is mine and I have support for it. Looooongpost.

First off: What do we know about the canon Wanderer?

We know they activated Project Purity (or had a companion do it) without the FEV and were inducted into the Brotherhood. We know they’ve met with MacCready (you can’t finish the game if you don’t), and he has dialogue indicating they had further contact. They also took the Brotherhood’s side at Adams Air Force Base.

We don’t know what happened with The Replicated Man, but since the canon Wanderer appears to have good karma, and info from 4 implies Zimmer’s disappearance was more recent than ten years ago, it seems likely they took the boring ending, which secures their membership in the Railroad.

Why aren’t they in Fallout 4?

The Doylist answer is that they’re highly customizable, and so they have no canon appearance, personality, gender, etc. But in-universe? Something happened.

“Accepting outsiders like yourself has proven disastrous in the past.” - Kells

“I've seen other soldiers come and go. Some were brave, some were honest... hell, some were even downright heroic.” - Danse

“Every doctor I've talked to was worthless. [] I don't need them... I need someone like you.” - MacCready

When Duncan first got sick, “someone like you” would have meant the Wanderer. This suggests (to me) that they’re not in the Capital Wasteland anymore. But they’re certainly not in the Commonwealth either.

The weird thing is that the Lone Wanderer is all over this game - they’re the namesake for a male hairstyle, a perk, a DCR song, a motorcycle brand… and the codename of Deacon’s mission to save the Railroad from certain destruction by recruiting the Sole Survivor.

Someday We’ll Find It, the Deacon Connection

Oh yeah, I’m going here. Desdemona’s terminal entries confirm it was always Deacon’s plan to get you onboard and use you to destroy the Institute. There are Railroad lookout posts near 111/Sanctuary and Red Rocket, and of course he followed you in Goodneighbor, Diamond City, and Bunker Hill (at least). His court jester vibe hides it a bit, but he’s manipulating you more than he’s manipulating Desdemona in the intro scene. And do you notice he rarely gives you a firm verbal disapproval unless you’re hurting the Railroad?

What could have caused Deacon’s interest in you, unless he’s made the connection between you and the Lone Wanderer? He’ll vouch for you if you haven’t accomplished anything yet, or even if you’re a Brotherhood member. A Pip-Boyed stranger emerges from a vault in the middle of a crisis, gaining friends, skills, items, and special abilities at a suspicious rate? Probably with the same gender and playstyle as the previous one? Heck, when he first heard the rumors, he probably thought you WERE the Lone Wanderer.

There are other indications the Railroad has been in contact with them �� Desdemona mentions the Capital Wasteland as their primary destination for synths, and Deacon references Harkness’s recall code. If you refuse to pick a codename, Desdemona even assigns you “Wanderer.”

So what happened, then?

I think the answer lies with the Brotherhood, specifically in Deacon’s hatred of them. Sure, ideology is enough to hate them for, but Deacon sure seems suspiciously happy if you nuke their base of operations. (Some of) his comments on that:

“The Brotherhood... well, I met them on an op in Capital Wasteland a few years back. But now with Elder Maxson... Let's just say, not a fan.”

“That bastard Maxson really screwed them up. The Brotherhood used to be the good guys. Well, goodish.”

[Who’s Elder Maxson?] “He’s a piece of work, is what he is.”

And on his time in the Capital:

“Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Capital Wasteland? Now there's a tale.”

“Capital Wasteland. Exports: purified water, some decent tech, oh, and an insane suicidal cult that worships radiation. Thanks, guys.”

“I miss Capital Wasteland. You can actually drink the water there.”

And a few lines I’ve decided (with no evidence) directly refer to LW:

“Last partner I had wound up going... well, a little insane. I think it was all my show tune medleys.”

[After Maxson orders you to hunt Danse down] “See? This is what the Brotherhood's really about.”

And my favorite: “I’ve been looking forward to kicking the Brotherhood’s teeth in. I owe them.” This line comes before Glory is killed, so he’s not referring to that. The Brotherhood only recently arrived in force in the Commonwealth. He’s talking about something that happened in the Capital Wasteland.

So Here’s What Might Have Happened:

In early 2286, Deacon moves to the Capitol Wasteland for awhile, probably to get a face change and lay low for a bit. He contacts the Lone Wanderer, who has barely heard from the Railroad in nine years. They begin to work together.

(In context, this journal entry looks like he’s somehow gathering intel to predict when Vault 111 will open, but I can’t think of a way for him to get that information or know why it’s important, so I’m not going to believe it just yet.)

The Wanderer is still a knight, maybe a paladin. Maxson has been elder for 2-3 years and is monitoring the Institute. Meanwhile, the Lone Wanderer and Deacon are setting up infrastructure to receive escaped synths.

And then the Brotherhood finds out about one of the safehouses. With their limited understanding, they believe that the Institute is holed up there and attack. The Wanderer intentionally throws the mission — maybe disobeys orders, maybe downs a vertibird or collapses a subway tunnel, or maybe even attacks their brothers to protect the synths.

And, well-

Either they were killed, or they escaped court martial and execution by a hair’s breadth and fled the Capital, leaving Deacon to believe Maxson had them killed.

There you have it. That’s why they aren’t in Brotherhood dialogue or records. Their accomplishments couldn’t be recognized because they’re a traitor. And that’s why it’s personal for Deacon.

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A purplish-grey stew topped with olive oil and garnished with piles of pomegranate seeds. Plates of green peppers, bitter olives, olive oil, taboon bread, green onions, radishes, and za'tar surround the dish. The second image is a close-up of the same stew. End ID]

رمانية / Rummāniyya (Palestinian pomegranate stew)

Rummaniyya (رُمَّانِيَّة; also transliterated "rumaniyya," "rummaniya," and "rummaniyeh") is a Palestinian stew or dip made from lentils, eggplant, and pomegranate seeds, flavored with nutty red tahina and a zesty, spicy دُقَّة (dugga) of dill seeds, garlic, and peppers. A طشة (ṭsha), or tempering, of olive oil and onion or garlic is sometimes added.

"Rummaniyya," roughly "pomegranate-y," comes from رُمَّان‎ ("rummān") "pomegranate," plus the abstract noun suffix ـِيَّة ("iyya"); the dish is also known as حبّة رُمَّانَة ("ḥabbat rommāna"), or "pomegranate seeds." It is a seasonal dish that is made at the end of summer and the beginning of fall, when pomegranates are still green, unripe, and sour.

This stew is considered to be one of the most iconic, historic, and beloved of Palestinian dishes by people from Gaza, Yaffa, and Al-Ludd. Pomegranates—their seeds, their juice, and a thick syrup made from reducing the juice down—are integral to Palestinian cuisine and heritage, and images of them abound on ceramics and textiles. Pomegranates and their juice are sold from street carts and cafes in the West Bank and Gaza.

Today, tens of thousands of tons of pomegranates are grown and harvested by Israeli farmers on stolen Palestinian farmland; about half of the crop is exported, mainly to Europe. Meanwhile, Palestinians have a far easier time gaining permits to work on Israeli-owned farms than getting permission from the military to work land that is ostensibly theirs. These restrictions apply within several kilometers of Israel's claimed borders with Gaza and the West Bank, some of the most fertile land in the area; Palestinian farmers working in this zone risk being injured or killed by military fire.

Israel further restricts Palestinians' ability to work their farms and export crops by imposing tariffs, unexpectedly closing borders, shutting down and contaminating water supplies, spraying Palestinian crops with pesticides, bulldozing crops (including eggplant) when they are ready to be harvested, and bombing Palestinian farmland and generators. Though Palestinian goods have local markets, the sale of Palestinian crops to Israel was forbidden from 2007 to 2014 (when Israel accepted shipments of goods including tomato and eggplant).

Gazans have resisted these methods by disregarding orders to avoid the arable land near Israel's claimed borders, continuing to forage native plants, growing new spices and herbs for export, planting hydroponic rooftop gardens, crushing chalk and dried eggplants to produce calcium for plants, using fish excrement as fertilizer, creating water purification systems, and growing plants in saltwater. Resisting Israeli targeting of Palestinian food self-sufficiency has been necessary for practical and economic reasons, but also symbolizes the endurance of Palestinian culture, history, and identity.

Support Palestinian resistance by calling Elbit System's (Israel's primary weapons manufacturer) landlord; donating to Palestine Action's bail fund; and buying an e-Sim for distribution in Gaza.

Serves 6-8.

Ingredients:

For the stew:

1 medium eggplant (370g)

1 cup brown lentils (عدس اسود)

600g pomegranate seeds (to make 3 cups juice)

3 Tbsp all-purpose flour

1/4 cup red tahina

1/2 cup olive oil

Salt, to taste

Citric acid (ملح الليمون / حامِض ليمون) (optional)

Red tahina may be approximated with home cooking tools with the above-linked recipe; you may also toast white tahina in a skillet with a little olive oil, stirring often, until it becomes deeply golden brown.

For the دُقَّة (dugga / crushed condiment):

2 tsp cumin seeds, or ground cumin

1 1/2 Tbsp dill seeds ("locust eye" بذور الشبت / عين جرادة)

5 cloves garlic

1 green sweet pepper (فلفل بارد اخضر)

2 dried red chilis (فلفل شطة احمر)

People use red and green sweet and chili peppers in whatever combination they have on hand for this recipe; e.g. red and green chilis, just green chilis, just red chilis, or just green sweet peppers. Green sweet peppers and red chilis are the most common combination.

For the طشة (Tsha / tempering) (optional):

Olive oil

1 Tbsp minced garlic

Instructions:

1. Rinse and pick over lentils. In a large pot, simmer lentils, covered, in enough water to cover for about 8 minutes, or until half-tender.

2. Meanwhile, make the dugga by combining all ingredients in a mortar and pestle or food processor, and grinding until a coarse mixture forms.

Dugga and components.

3. Cube eggplant. A medium-sized eggplant may be cut in half lengthwise (through the root), each half cut into thirds lengthwise, then cubed widthwise.

Cubed eggplant, red tahina, and pomegranate seeds.

4. Add eggplant to simmering water (there is no need to stir).

5. While the eggplant cooks, blend pomegranate seeds in a blender very thoroughly. Strain to remove any gritty residue. Whisk flour into pomegranate juice.

Pomegranate juice being strained.

6. Taste your pomegranate juice. If it is not sour, add a pinch of citric acid or a splash of lemon juice and stir.

7. Add dagga to the pot with the lentils and eggplant and stir. Continue to simmer until the eggplant is very tender and falling apart.

8. Add pomegranate juice, tahina, and olive oil to the pot, and simmer for another 5 minutes, or until stew is very thick and homogenous.

Bright pink pomegranate juice in stockpot.

9. (Optional) In a small skillet, heat a little olive oil on medium. Fry minced garlic, stirring constantly, until golden brown. Add into the pot and stir.

10. (Optional) Mash the stew with the bowl of a ladle or a bean masher to produce a more homogenous texture.

Serve rummaniyya hot or cold in individual serving bowls. It may be served as an appetizer, or as a main dish alongside flatbread, olives, and fresh vegetables such as radishes, green peppers, green onions, carrots, and romaine lettuce. It may be eaten with a spoon, or by using كماج (kmāj), a flatbread with an internal pocket, to scoop up each bite.

[bejeweledblondie]

You Don’t Send A Man To Do A Woman’s Job

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F! Reader

Summary: Heavily Inspired by the Fast Furious scene with Gal Gadot. While trying to figure out how to get intel on Makarov Y/N’s quick thinking & feminine ways help gain that intel much to surprise to Soap

Warnings: Sexual themes, seduction, mentions of female body parts

Being in the military definitely had it pitfalls sometimes it could mean sitting in a remote shack for days or even not having running water. But it definitely did have its perks. This was one of them. Drinking frozen Margaritas in the Bahamas Y/N, Soap, & Gaz all stood around a high top table staring at a group of Russians. They were given a tip that some of Makarov’s men were on vacation here. Soap & Gaz were bickering over what was the best way to gain intel off of them. Ghost & Captain Price were planted on the roof of the resort god forbid things went south.

“And how do you propose we do that? We can’t exactly just plant a device wherever we wanted to.” Soap replied with attitude. Gaz rolled his eyes & before he could even respond Price came over the radio.

“Oi knock it off you two!” He shouted. “Figure a plan out and let us know.” He sounded beyond frustrated & rightfully so. Y/N kept staring at them brainstorming ways she herself could be of assistance. Then she saw a very attractive blonde woman flirt with the armed guards outside of the cabana. It clearly drew attention to her & the the Russians invited her in. She plopped herself down onto one of their laps & accepted one of their drinks. A light bulb went off in her head.

“Guys.” She said trying to gain their attention. They started to bicker again & completely ignored her. “Soap? Gaz?” She tried again to no avail. “Fuck it, I’m going in Captain. Just make sure you’re recording their conversations.” She said into her hidden ear piece & whipped off her leopard coverup to reveal a cheeky red bikini. As she started to walk away both Soap & Gaz stopped talking.

“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap said. Ghost & Price both chucked at the expense of his reaction. Everyone knew Soap had a thing for you it was so incredibly painfully obvious to everyone except you. He couldn’t help but admire the way your bikini bottoms hugged your ass or the fact your toned legs stretched on for miles. He licked his lips at the sight.

As she walked towards the cabana she gained some unwanted attention from men scattered all over the pool, but it didn’t phase her. She was on a mission & was determined. Once she made it to the cabana she started to flirt with the armed guards. With her breasts pushed up in her bikini top & her famous smile she had gained the attention of one of the Russians.

“It’s fine Ivan, let the beautiful American woman in.” One of the men said. “Come sit.” He beckoned her to come in & sit down. She sat on the arm of his chair & he immediately grabbed a handful of her ass. Then he said made a remark to his friend in Russian about how good your ass felt. To his knowledge you had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. But after being part of the US Army’s psychological warfare division Russian was one of five language you knew.

Back at the high top, Soap was ready to fight the man who grabbed you. Gaz almost had to physically restrain him.

“Think of the mission, Soap.” He reminded him. Soap grumbled to himself & started to mope into his drink. Over the next hour she had gained some of the most important intel about weapons, imports, exports, hell the whole operation. Soon the Russians started to get up to excuse themselves for dinner.

The man she had been sitting with, whom she come to know as Andrei invited her to dinner. She accepted even though she wouldn’t be attending. A small piece of her felt bad for lying. But she quickly reminded herself these men were war criminals. They profited off of the murder of children, women, & families. Once all of them were gone she walked back over to the high top where Soap & Gaz were.

Soap took the time to take in the sight of her walking towards them. Her breasts bouncing with each step, & the way her hips swayed. He was undressing her with his eyes & imagined her without that damn red bikini. Once she reached the table she put the cover up back on covering her body.

“So how much intel did you gain?” Gaz asked.

“More then we needed.” She replied.

“I have to ask, how on the Earth did you accomplish that?” Soap asked. She turned to him & smirked.

“It’s easy MacTavish, you don’t send a man to do a woman’s job.” She replied.

[maluuustrawberry]

"My biggest treasure"

(Túlio X Fem!Reader X Miguel)

(The road to El Dorado fanfiction)

{Part. 1}

A/N: HOW NOBODY WROTE A FIC OF RTED?? Don't ask me why, but I really wanted to write a fic about them after watching again. (It's my favorite movie after The Emperor's New Groove) I was undecided which character to write (I love these two so much) so I decided to do both and you readers will decide, {Túlio X reader} will be a relationship between enemies to lovers and {Miguel X reader} will be friends to lovers. You who will decide, remembering that if there is any error, you can correct me. Good reading 🤗.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was just another normal day in Barcelona, Spain in 1519, and things weren't looking too good in the city, especially for Isaac, or rather Y/n. As we all know, we were still in the 16th century where theft and machismo were still commonplace. Y/n wasn't like the other women who accepted this quietly and whose only job was to serve her husband and look after the house. She liked to be free and not depend on anyone, earned her own money by disguising herself as a man to work on an export ship, it was her only way of earning money since women weren't allowed in jobs and especially jobs like these. She had to be a man to work and a woman to walk around quietly when she weren't working.

Today you'd find yourself at the market in the center of town, buying your things with the money you'd earned through your efforts, luckily in the eyes of others it was your "husband's" money.

You were at the fruit stand choosing apples to buy and take home, until a man bumped into you by "accident," he was thin, tall, wearing a blue shirt, his black hair was tied up in a ponytail:

“Sorry, Señorita.” The man said as soon as he bumped into her and continued on his way in a hurry.

You were a clever woman, and the way he bumped into you in such a hurry made you suspect what he was about. You quickly put your hand in the pocket of your dress where your money bag and your diary should have been, which was one of your most precious possessions, and unfortunately they were no longer there, the only thing that went through your mind was that you had been robbed by that man. It wasn't going to stay that way, you wasn't going to lose the money who had fought to get and the diary that belonged to your father:

“Hey! Come back here!”

You spoke to the thin man and he accelerated his steps. You had no choice but to go after him, passing through the crowd of people and not letting him out of your sight. As soon as you were out of the crowd, he started running and you ran after him. The brunette didn't expect you to react, after all he thought you were like all the women he'd stolen, little did he know that he'd messed with the wrong woman.

You kept running after him, turning corners and entering the streets where he passed, there was no point in calling the guards since there were none around, only the people around, but you knew that if you asked for help no one would help.

The thief had an idea to lose her. As soon as he turned the corner, he knocked over the barrel of fish when no one was watching, the ground was wet and sticky, as soon as you passed, you overbalanced because of the slippery ground, tried to hold on to the other barrel so as not to fall, but failed, the barrel containing dead fish spilled on you and making you slipped on the ground and fell. Luckily, no one was around, not even the vendor responsible for delivering the fish, the poor woman was all wet and stinking of dead fish. The thief watched the whole scene from seated on top of the wall and laughed:

“I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, lady. Looks like someone's going to have to pay for that...” The skinny brunette laughed and teased you by showing you the bag of money he had stolen in his hand. “...and you need a bath too.” He added, grimacing.

“You little fucking thief! You'll be dead when I get my hands on you!” She tried to get up, but slipped once again, drawing laughter from the man.

“Wow, I'm scared to death of a girl who stinks of fish.” He sneered as he analyzed the old diary in his hands.

“At least give that notebook back.” Y/n said angrily.

“There must be something very important in there for you to run after me and dirty yourself with dead fish over a notebook...”

He smiled and put the notebook in his pocket:

“Adiós.” He jumped over the other side of the wall, taking your notebook and your money.

You finally managed to get up, cursing that damned thief, you'd try to catch him next time, that's for sure. You were angry not only because you had lost your money but also your father's diary, in that diary there was a lot of information about the legendary city of El Dorado, your father was obsessed with finding that city and when you were little, before he died he gave you that diary, which has now been lost by that thief...

You were upset with yourself for that. As soon as got up, you quickly left the place before the vendor saw that you were responsible for the mess and made you pay dearly for it, probably more than half your salary for those fish.

Luckily, your house was nearby. On the way there, there were murmurs, ugly looks and disgusted faces about you, after all, you stank and looked awful. When got home, you immediately took a shower to get rid of the smell. While was showering, you cried with anger and sadness, but you tried to stay in a good mood, because you was going to work that afternoon. It probably wouldn't be so easy to get rid of that fishy smell...

~ {Pov} Tulio:

I couldn't stop laughing as I remembered that girl's fall after stealing from her, she was such a fool to think she could catch up with me. I went over to Miguel who was attracting the others to our bets, the blond was playing his mandolin to attract more people, he immediately stopped and his attention went to me when I arrived:

“Where were you? Did you get anything?” He asked and I handed him the girl's money bag and the diary. “Wait a minute, why the diary?”

“I don't know, I just stole it from a girl and it looked like something really valuable to her, maybe there's something in there.”

I know Miguel is curious, so he put the diary in his pocket and put the girl's coins in the pile of money on the floor:

“Why are you keeping that?” I asked.

“As you said, there must be something important, it's not every day that a girl can read or write.”

“I think it's a waste of time reading that witch's diary... It's probably just girly stuff.”

I helped him attract more people, we had a lot of money from the bets, and all thanks to our addicted data. Before Miguel could open that girl's old diary to read what was in it, three men came up and decided to bet, but in exchange for money it would be for the map of El Dorado. They're seriously going to bet on a map of a city that doesn't even exist!? Miguel soon became very excited about this, he always wanted to live an adventure and believed in these legends. Before I could say "no" to their offer, Miguel pulled me close to him to take a closer look at the map:

“Just a moment, gentlemen...” I said and joined the blond, analyzing the map with him.

“Tulio, look... El dorado! the city of gold... it could be our destiny! Our future!”

“If I believed in destiny, we wouldn't be playing with loaded dice!” I whispered to him, of course I thought this idea was ridiculous, I wasn't going to give up everything because of a map. Miguel made that sad dog face at me. “Don't make that face! No! No...”

“So, do we have a deal?” The man asked and Miguel kept looking at me with that face, I can't believe I'm going to do this...

“All right, let's start.” I started to shake the dice to play, there was no way we could lose that bet with our dice, but the man interrupted me.

“Wait, not with those, this time we use my dice...” Miguel, you pay me... “Got a problem with them?”

He showed us his dice. I had no choice but to accept or else they would suspect that our dice was loaded. I took the dice from him and turned to Miguel, making that sign by putting my index finger to my throat:

“I'll kill you!” I muttered between my teeth to him. He kept smiling and went back to playing his mandolin.

“That come on baby, papa need that crappy map” I said to myself as I shook the dice and blew a little for good luck. “Come on... Show me seven...”

I threw the dice that rolled across the floor, hoping to get the number I asked for. The first dice landed on four and the third on three:

“Seven!” Miguel and I celebrated happily, Miguel picked up the map and I bent down to pick up the money that was on the floor. “Well, nice doing business with you...”

My dice fell to the ground, giving the number seven. The man picked up the dice and threw them several times, but they gave the same number:

“I knew it!” the man exclaimed angrily and everyone looked at us suspiciously and angrily. “Your dice was loaded!”

Now was the time... I have to play the game. I held your mandolin, stopping it from playing and looked at Miguel:

“What?! You give me a loaded dice?!”

“You dare to impune my honor!?” Miguel got into acting, Also pretending. “The dice was yours! You were the one cheating and stealing from those men!”

The guards were close, Miguel grabbed the sword of one of the guards and I did the same, then we started to fake a sword fight, fortunately everyone was believing, it was a good opportunity for us to escape from that situation.

~ {Pov} Y/n:

I was at work, pretending to be a man and loading the export food onto General Cortés's ship, which was going on a trip in search of El Dorado as well. Fortunately, I was going on this trip to take care of the ship's cargo, at least one trip to make up for the horrible day I'd had. But now I have to be as careful as possible or I'll be discovered, since I'll be around men twenty-four hours a day... My back was already starting to ache from this, so I stopped for a while to stretch until one of the men called out to me:

“Are you tired yet, Isaac?” That was my male alias, sometimes it's hard to get used to being called by that name. “I need help with the apples.”

He pointed to the large basket of apples. Holy shit...

“Sure, I'll be right there.” I smiled and forced my voice to sound more masculine.

I helped him carry the big basket and we put it on top of the two barrels that were on the lower deck of the ship:

“That's all for today, we're leaving now.”

He spoke punching me on the shoulder and left the deck. As soon as he had left me alone there, I lay down on the wooden floor, tired, and took a deep breath. I felt the ship moving, we were leaving now and starting our journey. As I was going to be on deck for a long time, I decided to take a break and sleep, after all, I deserve a bit of rest.

I kept thinking about the diary that had been stolen, of course I know a lot of things in that diary from having read it so many times, but it was something of value to me, it was my father's. I felt quite down when I remembered that diary. I was looking forward to it too, after all I would get to see the city of gold, but something was bothering me, something was telling me that I didn't want it to be this way... I felt my eyelids getting heavy and the tiredness getting stronger, and it wasn't long before I fell asleep.

*****

I woke up a little lost in time, wondering how long I had slept, sat up stretching my back and yawning, until my attention went to two voices on the deck.

“One... two... three...”

“One... two... three...”

I don't recognize anyone with those voices, and they were inside the deck, but how? If I'm the only one here:

“Let's go again... one... two... three!”

The voices were coming from the two barrels, and I worried that they might be thieves who had sneaked onto the ship. I got my sword ready and went over to the barrels that were being covered by the apple box, they were trying to get out, but the big heavy box was preventing them from doing so... I was curious to know who they were, anyway I was going to report them to the captain and the general.

I helped, taking the heavy box off the barrels with a lot of effort. Hell, I've never picked up something so heavy... as soon as I did, two men pushed the lid off the barrels and came out, immediately startled to see me. I pulled out my sword and pointed it at them, the first man was a blond man with medium hair wearing a red shirt, the second man... my eyes went wide, I immediately recognized him, he was the man who robbed me!

To be continued...

[zvaigzdelasas]

[Reuters is Canada-Based Private Media]

Bangladesh will raise the minimum wage for garment workers by 56.25%, the first hike since 2019, the junior labour minister said on Tuesday after a week of protests calling for higher salaries. The minimum wage for workers will be increased from 8,000 taka to 12,500 taka ($114) per month from Dec. 1, State Minister for Labour and Employment Monnujan Sufian said. There will also be a 5% annual increment. The protests, which led to clashes with police that killed two workers and wounded dozens more, pushed the government to form a panel of factory owners, union leaders and officials to consider the demand for higher pay.[...]

"(Government welfare) cards will be provided to the workers, later the ration cards will be given to them so they can buy essential commodities at cheaper rates," Rahman, also a former president of the Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters Association, told Reuters. Workers, however, are not happy with the rise at a time when inflation is running at 9.5%.

7 Nov 23

[TheDailyStar is Bengali Private Media]

The wage board for garment workers has set the minimum salary at Tk 12,500, a little over half of what workers demand. Union leaders have rejected the new minimum wage put forth by the wage board, which accepted the proposal of factory owners’ representative Siddiqur Rahman. The current starting wage is Tk 8,000. Union leaders yesterday threatened to go for tough demonstrations. Workers had demonstrated for 12 straight days.[...]

Before the announcement, members of the Minimum Wage Board, formed on April 9, held a meeting at its office. While the meeting was going on, union leaders outside chanted slogans demanding a minimum wage of at least Tk 23,000. Demanding a starting salary of Tk 25,000, Montu Ghosh, president of Garment Sramik Trade Union Kendra, said the measly amount set was not enough to lead a good life. Inflation and high prices of essentials have made things worse for garment workers. Ghosh along with other union leaders of the Mojuri Briddhite Garment Sramik Andolon, a platform of workers’ unions, in a statement rejected the new minimum wage and called for a rally on Friday where they would announce tougher programmes[...]

If the workers’ unrest continues, the responsibility will lie with the wage board, Nazma said.[...]

[The] president of the Bangladesh Apparel Workers’ Federation, said the prime minister’s intervention is needed in setting the new minimum wage. He demanded ration cards, not the family cards of the TCB, for the garment workers.[...]

The new minimum wage is much less than those offered in India, Cambodia, Vietnam, China and Indonesia. Only Pakistan has a lower minimum wage. Early last month, the Centre for Policy Dialogue, after a survey, interviews and research, estimated that the minimum wage for an RMG worker should be Tk 17,568. The new minimum wage falls short of that. The think-tank had delved into food and non-food expenditure patterns of 228 workers from 76 factories and even considered how many earning members an average RMG worker’s family had. The CPD had stated that the food cost for an RMG worker family was at least Tk 9,198 a month but notes that the standard food expenditure for a family of four would be Tk 16,529 and that the garment workers have to cut corners to make ends meet.

It said 12 percent of the workers’ families do not buy milk at all, 5 percent do not buy sugar, and 5 percent do not consume fruits.

8 Nov 23

[lua-magic]

Intresting Astrology facts (Vedic Astrology)

Twelfth House Venus is exalted, but do you know why?

TWELFTH House is the house of giving and charity.

Ketu is giver, hence, exalted in twelfth house

Venus is known as enemy of ketu then why both these planets exalts in twelfth house?

Because, Venus twelfth house (Untill it is not in sign of Saturn ie, 10 and 11) knows how to give

Venus exaltation in the house of Jupiter that is twelfth house, shows the more you spend your money spiritually ie to help others, your Venus will improve.

So, basic rule of universe is what you give more to others you will get it, so if you want to improve your twelfth house, which is house of bed pleasure, foreign travel, investments, sleep, learn to give others, your twelfth house will improve..

Venus Ketu conjunction is always seen as negative combination, but it is one of the most spiritual combination, only if you see money as spiritual wealth and not Material wealth.

Ketu is spiritual planet, and detachment, be detached from money, spend your money first to help, ketu will bless you.

If you have Venus ketu conjunction and you get influenced easily when you see other's money you are triggering your ketu and ketu will become negative. Always be grateful for your money, and see it spiritually, more spiritual you become regards to money matters more ketu bless you, so whenever you spend your money, bless your money.

Arigato” is Japanese for “Thank you”. It describes the inflow and outflow of cash as a necessary circulation in our life.

What is this technique?( This technique is exclusively for Venus ketu conjunction.)

The technique is extremely simple. Whenever you have an inflow of money, you accept with love and gratitude no matter how small or big the amount is. And you do the same while spending money, that is, spending money with an open heart and gratefulness. The appreciation for the outflow and inflow of cash is as simple as saying a “Thank you”.

Ketu is also your past life pending karma, so don't be sad when someone takes your money, he/she is just finishing past life debt that you took.

Venus Rahu conjunction should always keep their Rahu good, then you get good money, Rahu is foreign land, import export, thinking big.

But, if you get into lust, illicit relationship, multiple relationship, you will trigger your Rahu and Rahu will act negative.

Rahu in vedic astrology are cleaning workers, one of the best remedy of Rahu is donate to cleaning workers.

Venus Mars conjunction has super attractive body 👁️ 👅.

Venus-Mars conjunction should invest money on fertile agriculture lands or atleast in real-estate, Venus is Money and also sperm, Mars is land, Venus Mars is fertile lands.

Whichever house Venus sits in you will get money when you do work related to house,

First house Venus - Work on yourself, your personality, your identity.

Second house Venus - Work on speech, work with Family, cooking, Astrology.

Third house Venus - Work with siblings, work on your skills, communication.

In male's chart Venus third house gets you wife who has Martian quality, that is fighting skill, she will fight and protect you

Fourth house venus- When ever Venus is conjucted with moon, one best remedy is change your place, your birth place your Venus will improve, fourth house is house, work related to decoration of house is good.

In male's chart Venus moon conjunction attracts females who are good in decorations and cleaning of house.

(Rest of the house I will continue in my next blog.)

Afflicted Venus or debilitated Venus also shows physical or sexual abuse

Venus eighth house if afflicted gives you sexual traumas..

Second house and eighth house Venus are great with Astrology and occult.

Treat Money as spiritual wealth your Venus will improve.

Twelfth house is always what you give.

Eighth house is what you have to let go.

Sixth house is what you fight for.

[pudding-parade]

Tutorial: Importing an existing world into CAW

Note: I did not write this tutorial! I copy/pasted it from here. I just don't have confidence that TS3 websites will remain viable in the long term, so I'm preserving this mostly for my own future reference. But, maybe it will be helpful for other folks like me who aren't very CAW-savvy and just want to make some edits to an existing world in ways that you can't do in-game. The slightly edited original post is pasted behind the cut.

1) Install the world in the usual way in your fresh game folder. If it is a real prerequisite, in that Riverview objects are used in the world, you'll need to install Riverview too. Of course this also goes for Barnacle Bay or any other custom world EA may release separately. This is also a good time to check in your Installed Items whether any "foreign" CC came with it.

2) Start CAW and make a new world. It will ask for a .png, press the … box and you'll get a few 'starters', choose any. Accept all the rest and OK. You don't need to worry about parameters for your world as they will be overwritten later anyway. Save As the new world with a name you will use temporarily, not the definitive name you want to give it. Let's call it Temp.world for now. Close CAW.

3) Open S3PE and browse to the The Sims 3 Create A World Tool\UserToolData\Worlds and you'll find your Temp.world file. Open it.

4) Use Resource->Import->From package… and browse to your The Sims 3\InstalledWorlds and open the world file you want to "import". Accept the default settings for Import, when it asks you to save between packages, say No. It will show a progress bar so you'll know it's done. This may take a while.

5) Sort the resources by Type (click the "header") and find UNKN 0x296A6258 there. If all is well you should have two, one already deleted (struck out), right-click the other and select "Deleted" to delete it too. At the bottom of the file you should have two WPID resources, one already deleted, delete the other too.

6) Use the "close" button in the upper right to close S3PE. It will tell you the package has changed, choose Yes to save the changes. The reason for doing it this way is you'll know it's done when the S3PE window closes. This may take a while.

7) Start the CAW tool and open your Temp.world. Wait until the render window shows you a reasonable picture of something in the world. This may take a while and there is no real progress indication.

8) Right-click on the Temp.world on the left pane (World Layers) and choose Add/Edit description. Make sure the Name and Description fields are filled in. You can use your final name and description here. Also make sure there is a .png for the thumbnail. If there isn't, browse up one of the samples you got earlier or make sure you have one ready. This needs to be in the 24-bit 256x256 format!

9) Save As the world with the final name, let's say Final.world. It will give you a "wait" cursor for a while and then a normal cursor. Don't touch it!! It's not done! Leave the computer to it until a window pops up informing you the world is successfully saved.

The opposite direction is quite simple, just start CAW and use "Export world". It will put a .sims3pack in your The Sims 3\Exports folder. You can take that out and put it in the Download folder and install it as usual.

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 17)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

When an invitation to Tommy's wedding arrived, it was like a tsunami of feelings struck your spirit, shocking you to your core and leaving you breathless even after it passed.

Deep down you knew, deep down, that you would never forget the consequences that would run through your family's very roots if you turned down the invitation to his wedding. However, in the midst of this profound insight, your contemplative mind wondered if the heavy weight of emotional turmoil that this occasion bore was truly worth the endurance and perseverance it required.

Your father Arthur had gone silent, not a word exchanged, for months on end. He did not know about your secret yet, namely that, several months ago, you gave birth to a healthy baby boy. In fact, no one knew other than Ada and, luckily for you, Ada vowed to honour her commitment of utmost secrecy to you, valiantly concealing her own penetrating doubts about the progenitor's identity, yet lacking verifiable certainty.

Two months had passed since her last visit, when destiny laid bare the truth before her very eyes. The arrival was an unforeseen surprise but, she has been supporting you ever since. Being a single mother herself, she understood what you needed and this was emotional support and encouragement especially after you told her that you never intended to carry this pregnancy to term.

By a cruel twist of fate, it was discovered at the last minute that you were expecting your uncle's child. Termination was an unthinkable option by this point and one that you fiercely denied as you had already carried your son for twenty weeks without showing. It was confusing to you having to go through this alone but, in the end, you managed surprisingly fine.

Then, after you gave birth, in the midst of a maze of people, you met a kind hearted doctor named Robert who looked after your son after he was born.

Rich and well-connected, Robert seemed like a perfect match for you. He was kind and loving, treating your son as if he was his own. He was a man of unwavering dependability, someone you could always count on. However, a sense of unease crept over you when he expressed his desire to accompany you and your son on the imminent journey to Birmingham.

Robert was blissfully ignorant of the fact that your son was born out of the covert union between you and your very own uncle as, for months, you had been entwined in a web of forbidden passion and secrecy. He also had no idea how powerful your family really was and that their illegal activities could potentially put him into danger. Thirdly, you knew deep down in the pit of your heart that Tommy and your father would never approve of him.

“Robert, I am not sure if you coming to Birmingham with me is really such a good idea,” you thus said cautiously as Robert looked up into your eyes with a hint of doubt on his face.

"Y/N, please," Robert said with genuine sincerity. "I will be extremely happy to become acquainted with your family, especially if you should ever feel inclined to accept my marriage proposal,” he went on to say, causing you to sigh.

"We talked about this, Robert," you said coolly, looking into his sincere eyes. "My heart and mind aren't ready to dive headfirst into the world of commitment just yet,” you told him before taking a moment to collect your thoughts and attempting to unravel the complex web of your family's past.

“You see, Robert, my family is not like other families. They have a certain toughness that comes from running those factories and gambling dens I told you about,” you casually disclosed, hinting at the lawful ventures conducted under your family's wise leadership, rather than their illegal and illicit endeavours.

Robert dismissed the statement with a casual shrug of his shoulders and said, "So what? They export machinery and take bets on horses”, causing you to nod. “There are worse ways to make money," he then told you reassuringly, cupping your face before telling you a disturbing story of young desperation. He described a terrifying reality that had occurred just the day before. Two frail spirits, who were both gently starting their fourteenth year, had fallen prey to the deadly grip of cocaine's seductive appeal. But even before his depressing words could fill the room, you spoke up, breaking the heavy silence.

"Alright, alright! I will take you to meet my family, but you need to promise me not to bring up stories like this when you are around them. No mention of drugs and no mention of...anything to do with the prohibition and...just keep it simple...small talk only," you stammered nervously, not wanting him to create a conflict within your realms.

Robert nodded understandingly, his eyes reflecting the love he had for you. "I promise, Y/N. I will be on my best behaviour and avoid any topics that may cause discomfort or conflict. Your family's approval means the world to me, and I would never want to jeopardize that."

***

As the days passed and the date of Tommy's wedding drew near, you couldn't help but feel a mix of resentment and nervousness. The thought of introducing Robert to your family, specifically your unpredictable father and secretive uncle, made you tremble with apprehension. But evermore so, the fact that Tommy was getting married to Lizzie made you sick with nausea.

You despised her and, unbeknownst to Robert, you still loved him. You were in love with your very own uncle who was a dangerous man and the father of your son, whom he knew nothing about.

This incestuous relation had kept you captivated against all odds. You had often dreamt of the day when these secret encounters would turn into an actual romantic relationship, though you realized that this will never happen.

And there lay the crux of your problem – your undying infatuation towards Tommy amidst the growing bond with Robert, even after all the heartache Tommy had caused you. 

The torrid dance between love and hate played out ceaselessly inside your restrained psyche now, consuming you entirely again. 

On one hand, you never wanted to see your uncle Tommy again but then, on the other hand, you longed for him more than anything else. It appeared almost inconceivable how deeply enmeshed you were in the intricate snarl of these raw, fervent emotions. And, unfortunately, as much as you hated yourself for harboring these feelings, you simply couldn’t deny them.

Love or lust, whatever it was - it was intense. Every time you heard his name, every thought of him sent waves of arousal coursing through your veins, a constant reminder of your last few nights together before you were sent to America.

One night, in particular, was engraved in your memory like a tattoo and even though, that night, you were furious about his will to send you away just over elven months ago, you resolved whatever tension there was simply by being honest with each other.

That night, Tommy told you that he loved you more than life itself but, just like life, love wasn't always fair. 

Backflash...

In a backflash, you remembered how, just the night before you left for Boston, Tommy took you to a place had never taken anyone else before.

It was his sacred place, his sanctuary, nestled among ancient trees where memories whispered softly in the wind.

Located on long abandoned land which he purchased without the knowledge of his family, a Gypsy wagon stood amongst wild flowers. Inside, candles flickered softly casting dancing shadows upon rough wooden walls covered in paintings depicting scenes from his past. There, hidden from prying eyes, he felt safe enough to express himself freely and vulnerably. 

"Why did you buy this land?" you asked him quietly as you dismounted your horse and secured it against one of the large trees while looking around the peaceful scenery. 

Tommy's voice sounded deeper than usual, touched with emotion, as he explained his reasoning behind purchasing the land. "Because I needed somewhere quiet to think sometimes, someplace where I didn't have to worry about anyone finding me," he told you as he approached and cupped your face tenderly. 

His thumb caressed your cheekbone, the tenderness evident in his gaze as he stared intently into your eyes. "Away from everyone and everything," he continued softly, his fingers brushing across your lips. "Just one more time… let us forget about who we are, eh? Let's enjoy ourselves here tonight..." Tommy went on to say and you couldn't resist the intensity of his stare nor his touch, the warmth in his voice drawing you closer to him.

"Why do I have to leave, Thomas?" you questioned him sadly, unable to mask your sorrow.

"Because, unless one of us does, I will not be able to resist this constant temptation that pulls us toward each other Love," he admitted solemnly, regret etched on his brow. His eyes held yours steadfastly, refusing to look away, seemingly willing you to understand why it must be done.  

"Then don't resist!" you urged passionately, stepping forward to press your body against his firm frame. Desire surging between you two, like an electric current sparking alive every cell within your bodies.

"You know it's not that fucking simple, eh?" Tommy growled, frustration seeping into his tone. "You are my fucking niece and we both know that this needs to stop," he declared forcefully, trying to suppress the desire threatening to consume him whole. But instead of withdrawing from your embrace, he pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate, hungry kiss. It was as if the very essence of his soul sought release through your mouth, through your body.

As your tongues tangled, he delved deep inside, probing and exploring, seeking something neither of you fully understood. With each thrust of his tongue, he seemed to find a part of you, awakening new sensations and passions.

"Don't you dare push me away for good, Tommy" you murmured breathily, clutching at his waist, digging your nails into his skin.

"We can't go on this way Love," he groaned, sweat trickling down his temple. "I want to protect you, and the rest of my family," he insisted, pulling back slightly, yet still maintaining eye contact with determination. "We need distance," he added.

He pushed you further against the tree behind you, pinning you there as he ravaged your mouth once more, his hands roaming eagerly over your curves.

Swept up in the moment, you lost track of time, the space around you falling away until there was only him—his scent, his taste, his touch. As his hand skimmed teasingly down your throat, stopping at the base of your neck, the feeling of being desired by this man consumed you completely.

He pressed harder against you, the heat radiating off his hard body causing your nipples to pebble beneath your clothes. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you ground your hips against him, silently begging for relief.

"Please, Tommy," you pleaded, gasping for air, begging him to take you. 

Tommy paused, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain control of his ragged breathing. Gathering what little composure remained, he ran his calloused finger down your neck, tracing its curve towards your shoulder blade, creating goosebumps along your skin.

Reaching beneath your skirt, he pulled down your panties roughly, exposing your feminine folds to the cool evening breeze, sending shivers running down your spine. Your legs began to quiver involuntarily.

His hot breath tickled your ear as he muttered huskily, "just one last time, eh?" before unbuckling his belt swiftly. He then unzipped his pants and pushed them down, causing his erection to spring free, thick and hard, demanding attention.

Without warning, he pushed up your skirt and made you lift your right leg so that it would wrap around his waist, giving him the perfect angle to align his manhood with your soaking wet core.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him position himself. Desire, excitement, and fearsome anticipation melded together inside you, creating a potent mix of emotions. Your thighs trembled violently, preparing themselves for his penetration.

In spite of his best efforts to retain self-control, the animal instinct rose to the surface when Tommy grabbed hold of your ass and yanked you flush against his rock-hard cock. Then, he gave it a slight push, forcing entry into your tight, moist cavern.

"Ah! Oh god yes!" you cried out loud, welcoming his fullness with sheer bliss.

Feeling the warmth of his flesh spread throughout your entire being, you moaned, reveling in the pleasure you were experiencing.

Your head fell backward against the tree trunk as you absorbed the powerful sensations pulsing through your body.

Every nerve ending came alive with exquisite pleasure as Tommy began to move rhythmically inside you. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his rugged features, illuminating the raw passion consuming him. The air filled with the primal sounds of ecstasy as your lovers joined together in their most fervent union.

As the fire ignited between you both grew stronger, Tommy wrapped his arms securely around your waist, locking you tightly against him. He moved with deliberate precision, ensuring he hit all the sweet spots with each thrust.

"Fuck Love, you feel so good," his voice rumbled low in his chest, resonating deep within your core.

"Tell me how good my cock makes you feel, tell me how much you want it."

Panting heavily, you managed to reply, "Oh God, Tommy... I can barely stand it anymore... I want it so bad, so fucking badly... you make me feel things I've never felt before."

Tommy grunted with satisfaction, increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts.

"I love you Y/N. I love you so fucking much," he said hoarsely, reaching down to cup your breast, rolling your already swollen nipple between his fingers. 

"I love you too, Tommy" you moaned as the pressure built up gradually, becoming almost too intense. Sensations flooded your body, culminating in a wave of pure bliss that coursed through you as you reached orgasm. Throwing your head back, your cries echoed around the woodland clearing, filling the silence with your rapturous release and, within seconds, Tommy followed suit. 

His movements became erratic, his breath coming in short bursts. Grunting audibly, he poured every bit of pent-up energy into the act, leaving nothing left for tomorrow. The earth shook beneath you, trees creaked and rustled, and birds scattered as the primordial forces took hold, claiming its prey.

Drenched in perspiration, Tommy cradled your face, tears streaming down his own as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"Promise me, no matter what happens in America, you won't forget our time together, eh" he whispered, a note of desperation in his voice.

"Never," you replied earnestly, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss upon his forehead. "Our connection runs far deeper than just blood. It may change form, but it shall always remain," you said without knowing that your forever continuing connection would be through the birth of your son. 

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[kebriones]

Idk if you have answered this before but how do you see the future for artists in Greece?

I know a small country with mostly agricultural and many people try desperately to meet ends meet and work a lot. Of course that's a global issue what work people prefer but i don't like art being discriminated.

In Greece how's it looking?

Unfortunately, greece is no longer a mainly agricultural economy. Tourism and shipping are by far our main industries.

It's true that many people struggle here, and the way things are going, will continue to struggle. And it's true that artists in general, not just here, always have the most unstable jobs and struggle.

It's not looking good. And for greece specifically everything seems to keep getting worse. The arts are overlooked on all levels, from primary school to university to funding for theaters or even exporting art. Nobody seems to understand how important it is for a culture to be producing and 'consuming' its own art. You slowly lose yourself when all you ever read and watch is from other cultures. Of course it's vital to interact with the arts of other cultures. But not exclusively that. Plus most of it is from the US/the anglosphere anyway.

All types of art are suffering here, but I see people keep trying. Not the majority, the majority of artists I know feel hopeless and defeated. But there are still artists who try to make it here. They make great music and comics and indie movies and great theater plays. And i do think that we can do so much more. The gaming and animation industries are almost non existent here, and there's so much potential there. You don't need some great infrastructure for those, you just need people who are willing to work, and a little financial support because so many people genuinely live in poverty right now. And it's these people who, upon given the opportunity will work the hardest. Many rich kids I know from art school don't care about working hard and making it, because it is actually very hard to be an artist, and it's easier to just go work for your dad's business than slave away in a moldy basement you're paying half of your income in rent for. In other countries with developed industries in these things, you don't need financial support to kickstart them, because there actually are studios you can go work for and learn in etc and the industry exists already.

The prevailing attitude here is that you need to migrate to find work, to be appreciated, to have a good life and do something that matters and not waste yourself. Which is, currently, the most reasonable route for an artist, and what I dreamed of when I was in highschool. But seeing a place like this destroy itself and become nothing but a fancy amusement park for rich foreign people sucks. There's talent and there's people with things to offer here and a culture that gets lost because everyone, including ourselves, sees our culture as just antiquity. Modern greek culture is seen as insignificant, wrong and bastardized, it's not something to care about beyond the tasty food, it's not as great as it should be and it will never live up to a past so idealized it's fake. This is connected to our perception of our own artistic production right now. You have Euripides, you don't need to worry about writing great plays yourself. You have all these ancient sculptures, you don't need any more amazing sculptors. A kot has been said about this problem modern greece has. Antiquity is inescapable and you need to look at it and accept it on one hand, but it is a crutch and a discouragement on the other. We struggle to exist alongside it in a healthy way.

Anyway I am hopeful that things can get better, because i think we can make them better. We just need to work harder and focus and make ourselves heard through our art, chase opportunities and build communities here and not give up when everyone around you is telling you you're better off in a soul-crushing job that will at least provide you with a steady salary for the next 40 years of your life that can barely afford you rent and groceries.

[peakyltd]

New Endings - Part 2

Part 2 | Tommy x Reader | 

A/N: Thank you so much for the love on part 1! I decided to turn this into a little series. So I think at least 2 to 3 chapters will follow after this one. I hope you’ll like it! 

Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence/abuse, injuries (both not inflicted by Tommy), anxiety, panic

Word count: 4.8k 

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

"I heard you met with (Y/N).” Polly confidently strided into Tommy’s office, closing the door behind her. Tommy looked up at her before redirecting his attention to the papers in front of him, a soft sigh leaving his mouth, slightly annoyed by Polly’s sudden presence. “Good morning Pol, I didn’t hear you knock.” 

Polly rolled her eyes and sat down in the chair in front of his desk, her brown eyes surveying her nephew. “How was she?” Tommy scribbled down a few notes. “She was well.”

“Do you think it was a good idea?” She questioned as she lit a cigarette. “I mean, she’s engaged after all.”

“It was.” Tommy’s face remained emotionless as he looked up at his aunt. Polly took a drag of her cigarette. “Oh Thomas, please.” She blew the smoke out the side of her mouth. “It was for you, yeah. I don’t think it was for her. Didn’t you damage her enough?” 

Tommy’s jaw clenched, her words had more impact on him than he realized. “If she didn’t want to come, she wouldn’t be there.” He simply stated while putting his fountain pen down on his desk.

“Right and what’s exactly the reason that you send two of our men to watch her husband? You’re doing the exact same thing as years ago.” Polly argued, remembering the countless arguments between them in the past.

Tommy took a sip of his whiskey before he leaned back in his chair. “Because I want to know who he is.” A mocking laugh left Polly’s lips. “ It’s been years, Tommy. Let her go, for god’s sake.” 

“He’s hurting her, Pol. You should’ve seen her, you wouldn’t recognize her by the way she acted.” Tommy tried to explain, recalling her anxious behavior and the way she flinched at his movements. Polly held his gaze before she spoke up. “I hope you’re not saying this to have a reason to get him out of her life.” 

“Pol I-” He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a second. “No. If she was happy I would’ve let her go. But she’s not.” She took another drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly. “And what do you have so far?”

Tommy opened the drawer from his desk and took out a paper, attached was a picture of (Y/N)’s fiancé. As he handed it to Polly, he started to answer her question. 

“David Wright, 35. Grew up in London. Has an exporting license in car parts as well and apparently has some history with different kinds of criminality.” He steepled his fingers. “Last two things could be the reason why they’re here.”

Polly read the paper thoroughly while finishing her cigarette. “She has a type.” She concluded as she put the paper back on his desk. “And all this information is correct?” 

“There are some things that didn’t add up.” Tommy commented as he put the document back in his drawer. “I’ll find out what it is.” 

“And what about (Y/N)?” Polly asked him, knowing her nephew’s answer. “She needs to get out of there.” Tommy answered while looking at his aunt, expecting contradiction. 

“And what if she doesn’t want your help?” She raised her eyebrows. “Then I’ll have to accept it.” He sighed as he took another sip of his whiskey. Those words sounded so easy but Polly knew that someone had to move heaven and earth for him to simply let it go.

The feeling of exhaustion took over him once he arrived home. He was welcomed by Frances who kindly took his jacket and informed him that Charlie had been well today and had spend his day at John’s house to play with his cousins, although she heard from the nanny that he had asked for his dad multiple times. 

Guilt accompanied exhaustion as he thought of many broken promises and the little time he spent with his son. He checked his pocket watch but it was late, Charlie was already sleeping. “Can you tell him that I’ll be home early tomorrow so we can see the horses?” 

Frances nodded. “Of course Mr. Shelby.” Tommy thanked her and made his way to his office. “Oh Mr. Shelby, there was an invitation delivered for you this afternoon.” She told him as she handed him the envelope. “Thank you, Frances.” 

He entered his office and closed the door behind him, putting the invitation on the side table close to the sofa. He took off his suit jacket and vest before putting a few more woodblocks in the fireplace. While he poured himself a whiskey, a soft knock was heard on the door. “Yes.” 

The door opened as Frances set a few steps into his office. “I’m sorry for bothering you Mr. Shelby but I was wondering if I could get you dinner?” Tommy shook his head. “No.” He spoke while making his way to his desk.

Frances nodded, hesitantly turning to leave the room. “You’re done for today Frances, take some time off.” Tommy called out to her as he sat down in his chair. “Yes, Mr. Shelby. Thank you.”

As soon as the door closed, he leaned his head back and took a deep breath. He wouldn’t mind catching up on some sleep but he had to finish the last documents for one of the factories. 

The warmth of the fire and the whiskeys he already had during the day made him feel drowsy. He was fighting against the weariness until his eyelids became too heavy and he doze off into a slumber.

Tommy felt a faint touch on his arm, not sure if it was actually there or if he was dreaming. In the distance he could hear a voice but it was too soft to recognize it. The touch on his arm turned into a firm one until he became aware that someone was squeezing his arm. He abruptly woke up from his slumber, startled by the sudden touch. 

He quickly sat up, his heart racing and his breath fast. Ready to fight. 

Only to find Charlie next to his chair. The boy looked at him with big eyes, frightened by his dad’s reaction as he held his plush horse tighter to his body.

“Charlie...” Tommy breathed out while he tried to calm himself. “Sorry, daddy.” Charlie apologized as he watched Tommy, his dad’s unexpected reaction was new to him. “No.. No it’s okay.” He turned his chair to face the little boy. “Why are you awake?” He asked while he looked for his pocket watch. 

“I can’t sleep.” Charlie explained softly. “You...” Tommy trailed off. “What time is it.” He mumbled to himself as patted his trouser pockets, wondering if he left the watch there. When he didn’t feel anything familiar, he looked around the office. His eyes fell on his vest, which he hung on the back of the sofa. He got up as he focused his attention back to Charlie. “Why can’t you sleep?” 

“I had a bad dream.” The little boy confessed as he looked up at Tommy, hoping to find some kind of affection from his father. “You did? What happened?” Tommy asked him as he lift the boy with ease, Charlie’s arms found their way around Tommy’s neck as he hugged him tightly. “A monster ran after me, trough the house.” Charlie mumbled as Tommy rubbed his back gently.

“Monsters don’t exist Charlie. Everything is alright.” He explained while he sat down on the sofa, his arms protectively around his son. “He had eaten you.” The boy added as he got comfortable in his father’s lap. “But I’m still here, right?”  

“Yes.” Charlie nodded. “Sometimes, Charlie, your brain makes up weird and scary things but it’s not real.” Tommy explained further to him. “They’re not under my bed?” He wondered, not believing his father’s words right away. “They’re not.” 

“Will you look before I go to sleep?” He looked up at Tommy, who nodded in response. “I will and I will make sure you sleep well, yeah?” Charlie nodded, finally able to relax in his dad’s arms. 

Tommy listened to the crackling fire, recovering from the sudden interruption of his slumber. The shock that went trough his body had him still shaken up. 

“Did you have a bad dream too?” His son’s voice got him out of his thoughts. Tommy took a deep breath, trying to make it as easy as possible for both of them. “Yes.” The boy became curious by his answer. “Did you dream about a monster too?” 

“Sort of, yeah.” Tommy answered. “Your eyes were weird when you woke up.” Charlie stated as he earned a soft chuckle from Tommy. “They were?” Trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. "Yes. I thought you didn’t see me.”

“I think I was surprised by your sudden visit.” 

Charlie leaned his head against Tommy’s chest, accepting his dad’s answers. Tommy stroked his hair gently as he took the pocket watch out of his vest. 3:30 AM. He had been sleeping for hours and he hadn’t even touched the documents. 

“Daddy?” Charlie mumbled softly. “Hm?” Tommy hummed, wondering what the following question would be. “Who is (Y/N)?” 

Tommy frowned as he looked down at his son. “Where did you get that name from?” The little boy looked up at him. “Uncle John said you were still heels... something with heels for (Y/N). He said that to uncle Arthur today.” 

Tommy sighed, mentally cursing John. It was a miracle how his brother always seemed to know the exact ways to get under his skin. “Uncle John talks too much. You shouldn’t believe everything he says.” 

“But he also tells a lot of funny jokes.” Charlie countered, loving the jokes his uncle told him. “Everything he tells is a joke.” Tommy answered as he got up while holding Charlie. “Now let’s get you to bed, eh? It’s too late for you to be awake.” He explained as they exited the office and made their way upstairs.

“Are you heels for (Y/N)?” The little boy in his arms asked curiously. “That’s enough questions for tonight, don’t you think?” Tommy sighed as they entered Charlie’s bedroom. 

It had been days since he had seen her and she walked out of his life once again. He had tried to call and thought about sending a letter to her house but knew that she would be in trouble if David would find it before she did. Besides that she probably had already traveled back home.

There was no time to think about her now as another meeting was scheduled. He parked his car in front of the Midland hotel and got out. Rain poured down on him as if the clouds knew how he felt deep inside. He walked up the stairs, trying to shift his mind to the plans he was ready to discuss. 

Before he was able to reach the door, a woman came out of the building. Her shoulders were slumped, eyes wide and frantically searching for any kind of safety. Dark circles were visible under her eyes, despite the attempt to cover them up with make up. 

"(Y/N)." Tommy stopped her, almost taken back by the state she was in. Her eyes fell on his frame, fueling her anxiety even more. "No. I-I have to go Tommy, please." She almost begged him as she moved away from him.

He looked around to see if someone was coming after her. “Where are you going?” He calmly asked, hoping that she wouldn’t push him away. “Home.” Her attention shifted to the door as it opened, gulping harshly. 

A man came out of the building and made his way down the stairs. She let out a sigh as she realized it was not the person she had expected. 

The rain still poured down from the sky, soaking both (Y/N) and Tommy. The pattering sound of the droplets hitting the streets surrounded them. He carefully stepped closer to her and put his hand gently on her arm, assuring her that he meant well. As he looked at her, he noticed the bruises in her neck. “Is he inside?” 

She stepped away from him once again, knowing that if David would see them together, hell would break loose. "Yes.” Her eyes kept scanning the street, hoping to find something or someone who could help her. “But don't you dare to do anything to him." She warned as she focused her eyes back on Tommy, knowing his reputation very well.

His heart hurt at the sight in front of him, at what she had become. "Come." He nodded his head in the direction of his car. "No." She gave him a dismissive wave of her hands. "I’ll give you a way out." 

Her coat became heavy from the rain and her hands started trembling. She wasn't sure if it was from the cold water or the fear of the consequences her actions would bring her. Tommy reached out for her hand, showing her that he was genuine. 

David would be furious, she didn’t want to know what would follow for her if she got into accepted Tommy’s offer but right now he was the only one that could actually offer a way out, or at least he said so. Regardless of his apologies a few nights ago at The Garrison, she still didn’t know what to think of him. 

Her wettened hair stuck to her face and the rain dripped from her chin. Her eyes were focused on the wet concrete stairs as her thoughts worked overtime. Tommy kept an eye on the door, in case her fiancé decided to look for her. (Y/N) shifted on her feet as she looked up, her gaze finding his.

"Where?" She asked him, still doubting on what to do. "Somewhere safe." 

She looked around to see if anyone was listening before turning back to Tommy. "Watery Lane?" She asked him carefully. "I know he won't find me there."

"I’ll drive you there." He reached out for her hand again, to help her down the stairs. Nodding her head, she did not dare to take his hand. With one last glance to the door behind her, she walked down the stairs to his car. Tommy followed, opening the door for her so she could get in before getting in himself. 

The car ride was silent. (Y/N) listened to the gentle taps of the water hitting the glass. She watched the rain drops escaping each other as they ran down the window, feeling like she was doing the same thing.

As they entered Small Heath, she noticed the familiar buildings and not long after, the car stopped in front of the house that she knew too well. When they both set foot into her new residence and the door was safely locked, she let out a sigh of relief. One she didn't know she was holding back.

"Let me get your coat." Tommy offered while he gently slipped it off her shoulders, getting a better look at her neck and arms. More bruises made themselves present. She turned around and caught him looking at the marks. Embarrassed by his gaze, she quickly pulled the sleeves from her dress down to her wrists.

His eyes met her guilty looking ones. "What did he do to you?" He asked her as he hung her coat on the back of a chair and moved it closer to the fireplace, in hopes that the warmth would let it dry quicker. She looked down at the floor, preferring to avoid his question. "He wasn't too happy that I left the house." 

"The night we met?" He questioned her, his eyes scanning her body. He got a nod in response. "Did he find out that you were with me?" Tommy wondered as he took off his own coat and cap who were both soaked as well. His dark hair stuck to his forehead and his suit jacket was slightly damp. "I don't know."

"You don't know or yes?" He asked, turning around to face her again. "Yes." She quietly conceded, the cold and nerves made her body tremble. Tommy looked at her, trying to find the right words.

"Come." He spoke up. "Lets get you warmed up at the fireplace, eh?"  He gently placed his hand on her lower back and directed her to the sofa. (Y/N) sat down, the heat of the fire gave her a pleasant feeling. Tommy handed her a blanket which she gladly accepted.

“I’ll see if Ada left a spare dress here.” Tommy told her, about to make his way upstairs. “You don’t have to, mine will dry. It’s not as soaked as my coat.” She explained as she wrapped the blanket around her body, feeling like she was already bothering him enough.

“You’ll get sick.” He declared while he turned back to her. “No, it’s okay.” She leaned her back against the sofa. The blanket captured her body in a warm embrace, stopping the warmth from escaping and helping her body to relax.

Tommy went to the small kitchen and got a bottle of whiskey out of one of the cupboards. He filled two glasses and put one in front of her on the sidetable. “This’ll warm you up.” 

He sat down in the armchair as he saw her puzzled look. “I don’t have gin or tonic here.” She shook her head. “Oh no, don’t worry. I just- I-.” She didn’t dare to tell him she wasn’t a fan of whiskey, afraid that she came across as ungrateful. 

“Would you like something else?” Tommy questioned after taking a sip of his whiskey. “No really, it’s okay.” She assured him but he had gotten up already. “Tea?” 

(Y/N) fumbled with her dress, feeling like a burden for such a small thing. "If it's no bother." She watched him walk to the kitchen again, his low voice reaching her ears. “It’s not.” 

While they both waited for the tea to finish, (Y/N) took the time to look around. Not much had changed since the last time she was here, except for a few added photo frames and some new decorations here and there. It still had the same cosy feeling, a place that earned the title home. 

Lost in thoughts about the past she didn’t notice Tommy putting the cup of tea in front of her until he spoke up. “It’s not as gold as The Garrison, eh?” She turned to face him. “Oh.. No it’s not.” She smiled slightly, taking the cup from the table. “Thank you.”

“It’s still hot.” He warned before sitting back down in the chair. (Y/N) nodded in response. He eyed her from the spot he was sitting in, wondering what was going on in her mind. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He questioned as he watched her eyes focusing on the cup in her hands. 

“Tell you what?” She mumbled while she tried to avoid his eyes. “That he hits you.” He recalled the events of the night in the pub. 

“He doesn’t necessarily hit me.” She knew there was no point in denying after he had seen her bruises but it was easier to deny than to acknowledge it. Tommy lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Hurt, then.” 

“Because I hadn’t seen you in years. I couldn’t just suddenly tell you everything that’s going in my life after such a long period of time.” Her eyes finally met his, unsure of what to do. Tommy took a sip of his whiskey. “For how long?” 

She shrugged, not having a clear moment in time when David had started to treat her badly. “He treated me well when we got together but it got worse gradually.” She looked down at her cup again. “I think it started after a year and a half.” 

Tommy nodded, he turned his attention to the fire and watched the flames dance in front of him. He couldn’t believe she had been going trough this for years already. 

The sudden silence made her feel uncomfortable, not knowing how to handle Tommy’s reaction. Or the lack of it. “I often think that it’s because he’s stressed out from work.” 

He turned his head to look at her again, his intoxicating blue eyes boring into hers. “With all due respect (Y/N) but no good man would hurt a woman. No matter the circumstances.” Her eyes wandered back to her cup of tea. “Maybe.”

He noticed how she still tried to come up with any kind of excuse for her fiancé’s abuse. Even after many years of enduring the mistreatment. It was something he couldn’t comprehend. He sighed softly. “What kind of work does he do?” 

“He has an export license for car parts in Europe.” (Y/N) answered before she took a sip of her tea. The warm liquid warmed her body and made her feel at ease for a bit. “And besides that?” 

“I-I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me.” She stammered, not wanting to elaborate on the that topic. Besides, she realized she was talking to Tommy. “I guess you already know?” 

“I found some things, yes. Didn’t know London was the place you would call home.” He teased as he looked at her. His facial expression neutral as usual but still trying to lighten up her mood, even it was just for a moment. Her lips turned into a small smile and he could swear he saw a little glint in her eyes. 

“I didn’t know either.” She confessed as she watched the corner of his lips turn up in the slightest bit. 

The mentioning of the place she had called home for a few years now made her think of the moment she entered Birmingham again, a week ago. She knew there was a possibility that she would run in one of the Shelby’s but she hadn’t expect that it would actually happen. And now she was sitting here, in a familiar place, across from someone she swore she never wanted see again. 

She let the events of the day replay trough her head once again. The screaming of David, the sudden shift of behavior in the lobby of the hotel and the way he threatened her when nobody was looking. She was able to escape him while he was busy with playing the nice guy to one of his business partners, it felt like her prayers had been answered.

With no plan she just ran out, hoping to come up with something while fleeing to wherever. Until she bumped into Tommy, who simply offered her a way out. But was it really that simple? She didn’t want to drag Tommy with her into her problems, he had enough himself. 

She couldn’t burden him with that, being very aware what David could be capable of. On the other hand, she knew she was safe as long as she stayed with Tommy and the area’s where he had the upper hand. But she knew this wouldn’t end well and she didn’t want to be instigator of that. 

She moved to the edge of the sofa and put her cup back on the small table. “I think this is a bad idea.” She stated, her hands trembled slightly from the nerves that were playing up again. Tommy looked at her and noticed her face had turned pale. “What is?” 

“This. I have to go back home.” The calmth she had felt minutes ago, turned in to panic. “Why the sudden change?” Tommy put his glass down while keeping an eye on her. “David is up to no good and I don’t want to drag you into this.” (Y/N) got up and hung her blanket over the back of the couch. 

“I think I’ve had worse than David.” His eyes followed her movements. “You don’t know him, Tommy.” Tears were brimming in her eyes due to the frustration and fear that was building up inside her. “I’m sorry.” 

 “I’m not forcing you to stay, if you want to go, then go.” He got up and moved over to her. “But I promised you a way out and I keep that promise.” He gently grabbed her hand, his thumb moving over the back.

She looked up at him and gulped. It felt so good and familiar as he held her hand, it made her think of the past. A past without worries. She knew what he said was genuine but at the same time it was suffocating her. 

Her widened eyes were staring into Tommy’s as a few tears slid down her cheeks. “I can’t.” She whispered as she felt the gentle grip on her hand loosen. Very aware of what his next move could be, she stepped back, ready to take a blow. 

It didn’t come.

“Come here.” His voice was soft as he carefully pulled her into a hug. One she had needed for such a long time. Her arms wrapped around his waist, fingers gripping onto his suit jacket. Her head leaned against his chest while silent tears fell down her cheeks. His hand rubbed softly over her back.

“Why are you doing this?” She whispered trough her quiet sobs. His other hand gently stroked her hair. “You’d do the same for me.” 

Silence fell over them as they held each other. She wanted to let go but she couldn’t, his warm embrace made her feel safe. The safest she had been for a long time. She felt herself calming down as she listened to the beating of his heart and his peaceful breathing.

He felt her arms leaving his waist, knowing it was his cue to let go of her. “I don’t know what to do.” Her voice was soft. The make up that had tried to cover up her tiredness had faded due to the rain and her salty tears. 

“Any decision I’ll make will be a bad one.” She took a shakily breath as more tears threatened to fall. “I don’t even know where to sleep.” 

Tommy moved over to the couch and took the blanket she had placed on the back before. “You can stay here. Use my old bedroom.” (Y/N) watched him as she shook her head slightly. “But what about-”

“Everyone is out. We’re only using the kitchen when we’re at the betting shop.” He interrupted her while he walked back to her, handing her the blanket. “Finish your tea first, yeah?” 

She took the blanket without thinking, nodding her head. She felt so exhausted and her racing mind wasn’t helping her. She wiped the tears from her cheeks as she decided to sit back down on the sofa. Tommy sat in the same chair across from her, refilling his glass with the amber colored liquid.

“If I may be so bold (Y/N)...” Tommy leaned back as he took a cigarette from his pocket, rubbing it between his lips before lightning it. He took a drag, blowing out the smoke after. “I know that you’ve made a decision already.” 

(Y/N) looked at him. “What do you mean?” She observed Tommy who took a sip of his drink. “You made a decision when you left the hotel. The moment you walked out of the door.” 

She knew he was right. Lost for words or any rebuttal, she just took her cup from the table and drank her tea quietly.

“You need some rest and the only place you can get that right now, is here. Think about it.” He took another sip of his whiskey before standing up and making his way to the kitchen. “I’ll check if you’ll have everything you need.” Tommy calmly explained before he climbed the steps to the first floor.

(Y/N) finished her tea. Surrendering herself to the decision she had made, still not knowing if she did the right thing. She let her head rest against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes, feeling drained from today and every other day.

Not much later footsteps could be heard on the wooden stairs again as Tommy made his way back down. (Y/N) sat up, her body tensed up from the sound. “I left one of Ada’s old dresses on my bed and I’ll make sure to get you dinner.” 

She nodded, feeling overwhelmed by everything he did for her. He strolled over to the chair he was previously sitting in, leaning on the back of it. 

“Are you going home?” She wondered as Tommy checked his pocket watch. He broke his promise to be home early, to go see the horses with Charlie. He could add it on the list of all the other promises he broke. Once he arrived home, his nanny would’ve probably put him to bed already. A soft sigh fell of his lips. “Yes.” 

He stood up straight and looked at her. “There’ll be men watching the house. If anything is wrong-” 

“I’ll tell them.” She interrupted him, remembering it all too well. Tommy nodded. “Right.” He took his coat and pulled it over his suit, the fabric was still damp. “I’ll be back in an hour with dinner.” He announced as he walked to the door.

“Tommy?” (Y/N)’s voice made him turn around. “Hm?” 

“Thank you.”