#i drew beau only two times i think

[mybrknhrtt]

✸ beau sketches 

[zepskies]

S.I.N.G.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: Beau wishes you’d take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.

AN: Here's another one-shot for the Take Me Home series, set a couple of months after A Crime of Passion. Some of you might get the Miss Congeniality reference. 😂

Word Count: 1.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship. Flirty teasing, tinge of angst and trauma/PTSD, spiciness and a side helping of smut. 

Catch up on TMH: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

“All right, let’s try that again,” said Beau.

You barely resisted the urge to whine like a child. Instead, you grabbed your phone off the coffee table, which you’d pushed up against the couch to make space in the living room.

Your boyfriend frowned and swept his hands up in disbelief when you began scrolling on the little screen.

“Uh, hello?” he said. “Trying to teach here, Professor.”

You Google searched for a new restaurant your aunt Denise had told you about recently, and you showed him a snapshot of the menu.

“Wanna try out this new Latin place for lunch? They’ve got empanadas,” you said. “And lots of beef on the menu. Huh, Mr. Carnivore?”   

Beau blew out a subtle breath of exasperation.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need you to take this a little more seriously,” he said.

You dropped your hand to your side with a tired huff.

“Babe, we’ve been at this for two hours. I’m tired. I’m sweaty. I’m hungry,” you full on whined now, grasping onto the front of his shirt, a gray one you’d accidentally shrunk a little in the wash. What once was loose on him, now stretched tight across his chest and wrapped snugly around his arms. (So all in all, you didn’t feel too bad about it.)

Beau grabbed your hand from his shirt and took your phone from you. He tossed it over onto the couch.

“I just want to go over a few more things,” he said.

“Come on, you’re usually the bottomless pit here. My stomach is going to eat itself,” you protested.

His lips twitched. “You’re being a tad dramatic, don’t you think? Now let’s go. Show me what you’re gonna do when I come at you head on.”

When Beau stepped forward, you mimed bringing the heel of your hand up to his face. He pretended to whip his head back, as if you’d really hit him. Complete with an exaggerated, Jim Carey-level sound effect of pain that almost got you to smile.

“Okay, good,” he nodded afterward. “But what if I grab your arm and get’cha turned around?”

He grasped your wrist next. He slowly twisted you around, until your left arm was behind your back. You sent him a narrowed look over your shoulder.

“I’m gonna break your damn nose for real if we don’t go eat,” you warned.

“Just give me twenty more minutes, and we’ll go. I promise,” he replied, trying to dim his smile. “Now humor me, would you? What’re you gonna do if I got you like this?”

You released a long-suffering sigh.

“Break your stance,” you intoned. You took your sneaker-clad heel and kicked back to tap it on the top of his boot. In reality, you’d be driving your heel into his foot, hard enough to try and break it. He moved his foot back before you could though.

“Nice try. Now what?” he challenged.

You used your free elbow to press into his right side below his ribs—and maybe you dug in a little harder than you needed to. He grunted slightly, but he nodded in approval and released your arm.

“Okay, good. The guy’s probably gonna loosen up enough for you to start running,” he said.

To your annoyance, he didn’t end the lesson there.

“Now, coming at ya from behind,” he said, wrapping his arms more fully around your frame, across your chest and under your breasts. His hold was firm, but not tight enough for you to feel his full strength.

This time, however, your body locked up with a bit of tension. You drew in a sharper breath. You knew you were safe in your boyfriend’s arms, but you had a sudden flash of memory in your mind’s eye.

You felt the phantom of a more threatening grip on your arms, shoving you hard into the side of your car, pressing you into the door with your cheek against the glass.

“Hey, you all right?” Beau prompted. It managed to break you out of your thoughts, and you realized that his hold was looser now. His voice was a touch softer, and his lips pressed to the side of your head, reminding you that it was just him. You were safe.

You squeezed his arms gratefully. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

This was why you’d agreed to these self-defense lessons in the first place. And you knew it wasn’t just for your own benefit. It made Beau feel better too, giving you back some control, and just knowing that you were better prepared.

Working through the trauma of everything you’d gone through in the past six months was an ongoing process; both your kidnapping this past summer, and Casey Sanderson attacking you at the college campus where you worked. You still got uneasy in the parking lot. 

“You sure?” Beau asked. “We can stop now if you need to.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want that flash of memory to be the reason you quit.

“No, let’s finish this,” you said.

After a moment, Beau nodded. His thumb stroked your shoulder before his hold firmed back up.

“Okay, how’re you gonna break my stance?” he asked.

Your lips formed a cheeky smile. You grabbed onto his arm wrapped across your chest and bit him, just firm enough to startle him a little.

“How about I bite your ass,” you teased. Though you soothed over the bite with a kiss, tasting the salty sweat dried on his skin. Beau cleared his throat. You couldn’t see it, but he was smirking.

“Sure. That’s one way to go about it,” he said with a chuckle. “Any other ideas?”

Hmm. You remembered the moves he’d taught you yesterday, but an idea struck you.

“Well, I could always just channel Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality,” you said.

“What?” Beau asked. You could tell, without even seeing his face, that his brows had drawn together in confusion.

“Oh, you don’t remember? It’s simple! S.I.N.G.,” you said, with a growing smile. “Solar plexus, instep, nose, groin…”

With each word, you once again bumped your elbow into his side, playfully stepped on his foot, and reached back to throw a mock elbow into the bridge of his nose. But on the last part of the acronym, you slid your hand down the inside of Beau’s thigh and grasped his length firmly through his activewear pants.

He released a strangled sound and let go of you. His hands instinctively moved to grip your arms tight.

“Very good,” he croaked out, and allowed you to turn around. You slowly rubbed your hand up and down his shaft until it hardened under your palm. Beau stared down at you with a new fire in his eyes, his mouth parting as an aroused groan escaped him.

Giving him a mischievous smile, you lowered to the ground onto your knees, hooking your nails on the waistband of his pants and underwear and taking them down along with you. It was good thinking on his part that you guys placed an exercise mat across the living room floor. It made this more comfortable on your knees, especially when you took almost the full length of his cock into your mouth.

“Aw, fuck,” Beau grunted. His fingers slipped into your hair. He couldn’t help but grip tight as you continued to salivate over him, dragging your soft, wet tongue across his velvety flesh. And you were relentless. Whatever you couldn’t take into your beautiful mouth, you stroked with your hand wrapped around the base.

You pulled your head back for a moment, just so you could tease his sensitive head. He moaned and bucked on reflex, driving himself deeper into your mouth again.

Oh, he was close already. You felt his thighs shaking, his cock throbbing. Your pussy clenched as well, with the memory of how he felt coming inside you. It had you quickening the pace of your lips and tongue drawing his release, and soon he spilled hot inside your mouth. You took and swallowed everything he had to give, sucking him clean.

It was too much. Beau shakily lowered to his knees, almost stumbling down to your level. He grasped your shoulders for balance first. Then he slid his hands down the gentle slope of your back and crushed you to his chest, where he bowed his head to claim you with a kiss.

Now it was his turn to be unrelenting. He hardly let you breathe with his lips moving passionately over yours. 

“Lesson over?” you panted, between kisses.

“Yeah,” he said roughly, though he chuckled. “Thank you, darlin’. You’ve been a model student.”

You smiled against his lips. Beau slid your shirt up and over your head before he laid you down on the mat. His kisses blazed a wet path down your neck and between your breasts, still covered by your satin bra.

“Thought we were going to lunch,” you said breathlessly.

Beau perked his head up and shot you a heated look, despite his grin. He began slowly dragging your tight-ass yoga pants down your hips and thighs, all the way down to your ankles. Your panties came next.   

“Oh, we are,” he said, sliding his hands back up your thighs. “All of a sudden, I’m real hungry.”

His mouth finding its way between your legs soon cut off the rest of your laughter. 

AN: Lol how'd you like that lesson in self-defense? 😘

And want more stories in the TMH-verse? I've missed these two. ❤️

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[kumkaniudaku]

Requesting sadness 15: “I can’t do this anymore.” w/ Terry Richmond but it could be an unrequited love story that maybe was reciprocated idk

@pocketsizedpanther put NFL!Terry in my mind and this is what came up.

Silence. Unusual, unbearable silence. The kind of silence that hung in the air thick like humidity in Georgia, choking the life out of every living being in its vicinity. 

Silver forks scratched porcelain plates while two lovers sat across from each other trying to salvage a romantic dinner gone awry before it could ever start. Terry sensed the discomfort when he flew into town with no welcoming hug at the end of the tarmac. She left no text, no call, not even an insight into her whereabouts via Instagram stories. Only an empty space where her pretty red BMV usually sat awaiting his return. 

She hadn’t been in the stands lately either. From the cloudless skies of Los Angeles to the bitter chill of Philadelphia, she was a mainstay on the sidelines, wearing his last name on her back like a badge of honor. But tickets had gone unclaimed here and there. Not enough to raise alarms, but enough for him to bring it up as they dug into the night’s dinner. 

“If you wasn’t trynna be in the cold, that’s cool too. It’s just…you know. I wanted you to be there to see us win the conference. It’s kind of a big deal. First time in like six seasons or something like that. I don’t know. I just got here.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’d rather make sure you’re good than get tight over a game. Football isn’t more important than you. You straight?” He shoveled a forkful of branzino into his mouth, looking across the table for a response that she never provided. “Tia, what’s up? You feeling alright?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Did I forget something?” 

“No.” 

“Somebody DM you something crazy? Fans bothering you again? Let me know something.” 

Her distant stare slowly drifted to his face with tears welling in her waterline. “I-Terrence, I can’t do this anymore?” 

“Do what? What you mean?” He knew. He’d seen the text messages and how she rushed out of the room to answer phone calls. The rumor mills and blind item reports never missed a beat. Atlanta wasn’t a city for secrets. But, he prayed that they’d been mistaken. Taking a sip of his water, he took a deep breath and repeated himself. “What can’t you do anymore? Sneak around like I can’t see you? Lie? Cheat? What is it, Tia?” 

Each question came out louder than the one before, making Tia wince in her seat. 

She knew he’d never put his hands on her. Terry was too sweet for that. So sweet that it made life boring. Being a kept trophy wife wasn’t her speed, but she allowed him to woo her in the VIP section of a club in Las Vegas and drag her back to a slow life full of WAG meetings and nosey neighbors. The thrill of being All Star tight end Terrence Richmond’s girlfriend lost its luster the moment engagement rings and wedding dresses became the topic of every conversation. 

One-night stands turned into sneaking around during long road trips until feelings and another life threw a wrench in what was supposed to be a quick fling with someone far too stupid to be a long-term beau. She’d fucked up. 

“It’s not you,” she choked out, trying to offer him some solace. “He was around when you weren’t and I-”

“Bro, don’t explain that shit to me! You don’t think I’m lonely sometimes? That I don’t meet women ready to fill a void if I snap my fingers? C’mon, Tia. This me you talkin’ to right now! Stop playing in my face!” 

He was fuming and fighting to keep his emotions at bay as he paced across the lavish dining room. 

Tia drew in a deep breath to calm the tears forcing a painful lump into her throat. “I’m sorry, Terry. I know I messed up. I embarrassed you and I’m so fucking sorry for that.” 

“Did you fuck him?” Dread attacked their bellies simultaneously. Seconds passed so slowly that he looked over at the wall clock to make sure time wasn’t standing still. Her silence became confirmation. 

She swallowed hard and nodded. “I’m pregnant. Yesterday makes eight weeks. Terry...”

“The Houston game, wasn’t it. When you said you got sick halfway through and had to leave early. You lied in front of my mama and got pregnant while she was worried about you. You fuckin’ sick in the head, Tia, what the fuck!”

Any explanation Tia intended to offer became lost in a swirl of profanity and angry shouting. Betrayed was the prevailing sentiment. All of his hopes for a family smiling back at him before pre-game intros were dashed, leaving him grieving in real-time. He blamed himself for believing that she was ready for something serious and ignoring the warnings. Now, all he had to show for his blind optimism was a broken heart. 

Tia watched Terry dissolve into a near rage with tears ruining her foundation as they poured without ceasing. All of the trust, all of the love they’d built in two years together was washed away by her selfishness. 

“You gotta go,” he finally managed to grit through clenched teeth. “Get the fuck out. Nah, fuck it. I’ll go. You stay until I can get some shit figured out, but you can’t stay here past the weekend.”

“Terrence! I don’t have anywhere to go!” 

“That’s not my fuckin’ problem! Call your sister or that nigga or some shit, I don’t care. All I’ve ever done is take care of you. If you think you can keep makin’ a fool outta me, you got the wrong motherfucka. This shit is over. Forreal this time!”

“But, I can’t -” 

“What the fuck are you fighting for, Tia? You made your decision. Deal with that shit!”

Sobbing and pleas to rethink his decision hit the condo’s walls like bricks, likely fueling a noise complaint that would be slapped on the door come morning. Tia listened to Terry rifle through drawers and closets on the hunt for enough to get him through a few nights at the Four Seasons. 

He just needed to blow off some steam. They’d been in this place before, angry and screaming at the top of their lungs behind her indiscretions, only to come back together and push the pain of the past to the far recesses of their mind. But, as he stomped his way out of the front door and into the night without so much as a second look, the future became more clear. 

He was gone. For good this time.

[songbird-and-her-fos]

Dance Lessons

Emmrich/F!Rook

Emmrich likes to indulge in the finer arts, including dance, and wants to share this with Rook. Sadly, Rook has little confidence in her dancing abilities

-

A quiet day at the Lighthouse. Lyrei “Rook” Ingellvar didn’t know what drew her to the small hidden room with the big piano, but she found herself there nonetheless. There were so many more enjoyable things she could spend her time with, she told herself, so why come here? Perhaps it was the instrument itself that attracted her to this seldom visited corner of the Lighthouse; Rook loved music, though she had never had the opportunity to learn to play. So her fingers only lightly grazed the ivories, never truly pressing any of them hard enough to produce a sound.

She missed music. Be it the lengthy elegies written for funerals back in Nevarra or lively drinking songs filling the air of taverns; she hadn’t heard any of that in way too long a time.

Hadn’t Bellara discovered an ancient Elven music box not too long ago? Just as Rook resolved to ask about it soon, someone entered the room.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, dearest. I’ve been looking for you.”

She turned around, her face lighting up with a smile. “Emmrich.”

He held up the artifact in his hands. “I asked Bellara if she would let us borrow her music box; there’s something I want us to try with it.” He placed it on a nearby table. “I had at first considered trying to teach Manfred how to play the piano for us; he was very interested, but I think he needs to focus on his magic training for the time being.”

“Now you’re making me curious”, Rook said cheerfully. “Don’t keep me in suspense like that!”

“My darling, have you ever tried dancing?”

Rook bit her lip. “I haven’t. I’m not sure I would be any good at it, to be honest.”

Emmrich stretched out his arms to pull her against him. “Nonsense. I see how you move in battle; you are a born dancer if I’ve ever seen one.”

Her eyes flitted about the room, for the first time trying to look at anything but him. “I don’t want to embarrass myself; especially not in front of you.”

Emmrich leaned forward and kissed her. “I would never judge you, you know that. Come, we'll start with a simple waltz. Without music, so you can get a feeling for the steps first.”

Rook hesitated for a moment, but found herself unable to say no to him. Not when he was so excited at the prospect of dancing with her. “...Okay, but I take no responsibility for any damage done to your toes.”

“Marvelous! It's easy, really.” He placed one hand on her waist and took hers with the other. “Start by taking a step forward with your left foot, then a sideways step with your right foot…”

This “simple waltz” felt anything but simple at first. She executed the steps just as Emmrich instructed, but kept losing the rhythm and felt her face heat up every time she stumbled. Just when she was about to ask if it was time to stop, Emmrich paused.

“Rook, my dearest, you are way too stiff. Relax. Don’t worry too much about executing every step perfectly. Just focus on me.”

Rook took another deep breath. “Focus on you. Okay. I can do that.” She concentrated on his eyes, gentle and loving as ever. No trace of judgement or annoyance. He moved, and she followed, her mind easing to a pleasant emptiness that left space for the two of them, and nothing else. She barely noticed when his hand slightly moved and the music box began playing. It was an ancient Elven song, a far cry from modern ballroom music, but it still flowed into their movements like a guiding breeze. That was her entire world in this moment; music and movement… and Emmrich, smiling at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I knew you could do it.” Delight lit up his eyes.

“What can I say? I have an excellent teacher.”

Step by step, they twirled through the room, allowing themselves to get lost in the moment. One, two, three…

Emmrich’s hoarse chuckle slightly pulled her from her thoughts. “You are absolutely beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “Says the stunning man in front of me.”

He laughed, and her heart did a little flip.

The song slowly fizzled out, and with a final spin, Emmrich, kissed her and then rested his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“And I love you. And… thank you for teaching me how to dance. Maybe we can do this more often?”

“Whenever you like, my dearest.”

[bawdybooster]

A needy moan escaped the Knight’s throat as the vines drew tight around his barren form. The Alraune giggled, taking in the sight of his catch as the young man before him bucked in a pollinated haze for more of his host’s intoxicating gift. Thick, heavy vines drew him closer to the plant boy, who raised his hands to cup the cheeks of the begging, pliant Knight within his touch.

“So eager~” He grinned, “I don’t know what to do with you.” He blew a puff of pollen into the Knight’s face, before diving in to plant an excited kiss upon his lips. The Knight’s eyes widened as an electric jolt of pleasure rushed through his body, twitching with excitement as he sank into the bliss of his green-eyed guardian.

The two were alone in the Alraune’s Garden, deep within the Forest and far from the sight of any prying eye. Good thing too, considering the Knight had quite the reputation for himself as the Monarch’s beloved beau. To see him stripped of his honor, laid claim to, and returned to the natural world would’ve been a scandal of all times!

Not that he minded, of course.

“Decisions, Decisions…” The Alraune mumbled. “As tempting as it is to make a morsel out of you, a handsome hunk such as yourself deserves a fate more suitable than fertilizer for yours truly. What do you think?”

The Alraune turned, only to see the Knight still riding the bliss of his pollen. He flexed his vines, and roused an agreeable groan.

“Precisely — You’re a Knight of the Realm! A man of Daring-Do! You’re meant for so much…” An idea blossomed in the Alraune’s mind, “…so much more~”

Vines trembled in delight, and the Knight shuddered as he was brought into the waiting arms of his green master. A delighted grin was spread all across the Alraune’s face as another puff of pleasure was doused upon his catch to surrender him into his embrace.

“What say you forget about that silly old life you had before and come serve me instead?” the Alraune began seductively, “My Garden grows by the day, and a Prince of the Forest such as myself will need a Green Knight to help defend it. And there will be plenty a reward should you serve me well~” The Forest stilled as the Alraune leaned in to whisper sweet nothings into his darling Knight, who’s addled mind trembled at the thought of being seen to by such raw might.

“So what do you say?” The Alraune whispered with a biting grin, “Are you ready to begin your new life?”

The Knight practically begged to start then and there.

[laurasbailey]

i wish maybe in the future ppl could discuss beaujes more openly! without of course, attracting those weirdos that almost made me quit the fandom altogether back in 2020. they lurk in the shadows, and pounce from time to time making things awful & weird...

i'll love to have some answers about marisha going for it pretty seriously (in her own talksm words). about how things seem to go that way until ashley came back for real, about how there must been over the table talks about the endgame relationships. about how after the c0vid break it was pretty much gone...

i hope time buries those insanely nasty things that those years brought, and maybe they get to share a bit more of how things went....

oh i totally get it, beauyasha antis and the lesbophobia surrounding them were a big reason i stepped away from fandom interaction during c2 too. nowadays i'd like to think my inbox is a pretty safe space to have mature conversations about things bc even if i'm not a fan of something i'm well aware it's someone else's favourite thing and i hate when people needlessly shit on something i love when there's nothing wrong with it lmao

i remember at the time a lot of people were confused about beau's choices (especially when they contradicted things marisha said on talks) but honestly i think marisha was just playing her character really well. in my opinion it went down exactly how beau explained it to fjord: her feelings for yasha were always deeper and that scared her, then she drew back even further when she found out about zuala. then yasha was taken by obann, and while marisha knew yasha was coming back, it made sense for beau to close that door (they also had no idea whether yasha was straight-up evil or not). meanwhile, jester has always been there, doesn't have a dead ex, and is, for beau, the "safer" choice.

and i could just be projecting, but as someone who can relate to parts of beau's upbringing, it's a very real lesbian-who-has-family-trauma experience to latch on to your friend who is incredibly sweet and open with her emotions and shows you affection in a way you've never received before. i think the crush was definitely real, but despite marisha saying beau's feelings were 'unlike anything she'd ever felt before' (which, again, with the repression of her feelings for yasha, could very well be what beau believed), the minute yasha was back, beau didn't so much as look at anyone else.

but that's just my two cents on it! in the end it made sense to me, but i was also an angry gay only child with a shitty childhood who gravitated towards any girl who was extra nice to me and radiated sunshine so i feel uniquely qualified LMAO

[aramis-dagaz]

Writober Day 6: Oracular, Curse

((Jacky is from Faded Scars and used with permission))

“Do…do you think they’ll be okay?”

Jacky looked at Resa.  The bear didn’t give a lot away, but Jacky could see in her eyes that she was scared.  That makes two of us…

She didn’t want to tell her a comforting lie.  Didn’t seem right, especially since she still felt responsible for putting her in this situation.  But she didn’t want to add to her worries, either.  She was just glad the children were asleep; probably the reason Resa felt comfortable asking.

Jacky instead decided to voice her own reason for confidence.  “He’s with a good crew.  Level heads, no strangers to trouble.  And while Rails doesn’t look it, he’s very good in a fight.  I trust him with my life, and you should trust your husband’s with him, too.”

Resa closed her worried eyes and took a deep breath.  “Then I will.  Thank you.”  She clearly was still scared, but it at least gave her something to cling to.  Jacky wished she could give her more.

“Though, uh…”  Resa glanced over her shoulder at Sister Claire, who was seated with the children, a dozing guardian angel, though Jacky had no doubts she would be awake the instant something threatened them to do something about it.  Satisfied they wouldn’t be heard, Resa leaned in closer, looking somewhat ashamed.  “Manuel isn’t, well, he isn’t my husband.”

Jacky blinked.  “Oh, so fiance, then?”  A quick head shake.  “Okay, so your beau.  Nothing wrong with that, though knowing that I’m actually more impressed he dropped everything to make sure you and the kids were safe.  He didn’t need to do that.”

Resa chuckled.  “Manuel would definitely say you’re wrong there.  He loves the children as though they were his own flesh and blood.  He’s definitely a father to them.”

“I stand corrected, if I were actually standing,” Jacky replied, earning another chuckle.  “If you don’t mind me asking, why not marry him?  You two clearly love each other.”

The sigh told Jacky that she just wandered into a well-worn question and immediately regretted asking.  “Actually, you don’t have to answer that.  I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried like that, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s fine,” Resa said, gazing down at her hands in her lap.  “It’s the circumstances I have chosen, so I shouldn’t be so secretive about it.”

“Everyone has secrets, and not all are meant to be shared.”

Resa shook her head.  “Maybe, but the Saints teach us that hiding our sins and shame away only prevents us from communing fully with the Divine.”  She stopped, glancing back up at her with a sheepish look.  “Er, that is, I don’t mind talking about it, but I won’t force something so personal on you, especially with everything going on.”

Jacky glanced back out at the dark desert.  She shifted her position so both of them had their backs to Sister Claire and the children, with only the night and the critters in it to hear them.

“If you don’t mind talking about it, then I don’t mind hearing it.”

Resa closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “The truth is, I left my husband three years ago.  I won’t go into details, but, well, he was not the man I thought he was, especially when he was drunk, and he was drunk a lot.  I could put up with a lot, but when he started hurting the children…”  She covered her eyes with one of her massive, powerful hands, her breath catching.  Jacky waited patiently.

“I…I simply couldn’t let that continue.  Thank the Saints that I was able to find a sympathetic and very persuasive lawyer, and thus I was able to leave with the children.  It was just us for a long time.”

“Then Manuel?”

She couldn’t hide her smile.  “Yes, then Manuel.  He came in with the railroad, occasionally coming into town for provisions and to get their laundry cleaned.”  She laughed quietly.  “And I thought the ranchers produced dirty clothes.  I think running laundry was something they foisted upon whomever drew the short straw, but I kept seeing him more and more.  Just his bad luck, I guess.”

“Some folk make their own luck, as some would say,” Jacky said with a grin.

“Oh, believe me, I think he volunteered for the really dirty jobs just for an excuse,” Resa replied.  “Well, I’m no stranger to men taking a shine to me, but most find reasons to be elsewhere when they find out that I have children.  Not Manuel, though.  He fell in love with them the moment he saw them, and he would bring them gifts, play with them, accompany us to church.  And when the railroad finished the new route, when most of the workers left looking for work elsewhere, he came back and found work in town.  It’s been that way for over a year now.”

“He sounds like a very good man.”

“Few better, I daresay.”

They sat in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire behind them and the stirring silence in the desert before them, letting the warmth of the tale warm their hearts against the cruel coldness of the world.

“But, of course, that leads back to the original question…” Jacky said after a long while.

Resa exhaled slowly as the moment passed.  “Yes, it does.”  She turned to look at Jacky.  “What do you know of the Saints’ teachings?”

“Not much, admittedly.  I’ve heard some of their stories, mainly the ones everyone knows about.”

“The Saints, well, they have much to say about marriage.  Some feel that…”  Resa shook her head.  “No, I won’t bore you with theological details.  Suffice to say, regardless of their exact views they all agree that there is one true model that the Divine calls upon us to follow, and that is marriage is eternal and enduring, beyond the ability for mere mortals like us to sunder.”

“But you did divorce your husband, right?”

“Only by mortal law, and that was just to protect the children,” she replied, some iron in her tone.  “I feel no shame for that, I did what I had to do.”  She sighed, the strength evaporating from her.  “But by the Saints’ law, the Divine’s law, we’re still married, and nothing we can do will change that.”

Jacky sat quietly, ruminating on what she told her.  “I can’t say I fully understand,” she said, settling on a neutral answer.

“Not many do, admittedly, even among those who claim to follow the Saints’ teachings.  Though…I understand why many Saints advocate for it, even if only as a way to mitigate the damage of our sinful ways.”  She brushed her eyes with an unsteady hand.  “It’s…humbling to be in the position of those you once scorned, however quietly.”

“So that’s it?  You and Manuel are simply never going to marry?” Jacky asked.

“Never.  I hate to do that to him, because he truly deserves far, far better.  But I…he’s so kind and loving with the children, and…and…”  She clamped her hands over her face to silence her quavering voice and hold back the tears.  “Saints preserve me, the temptations I have for that man!”

Jacky reached over and rested her hand on the bear’s massive arm.  “I’m sure there’s a Saint that would defend you regardless.”

Resa’s sob became a truncated laugh.  “Oh, there is, there is.  A minor one in the canon, but understandably very popular.”  She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes.  “But I endeavor to make sure they won’t have to busy themselves too much with me when the day comes.  I can endure some temptation and gossip if it means the children will have a good father.”

“Sounds rough.”

“It can be, more often than I care to admit.  Sometimes I wonder if I’m trying to have things both ways and playing my own game with the Divine.  That’s never a good idea, according to many of the Saints’ stories.”  Resa took a deep breath and sat up straighter.  “I’ve made some bad decisions, but all I can do is just live with them and keep moving on.  It’s all any of us can do.  To let yourself be weighed down by the guilt of your own sins only keeps you from truly embracing the Saints’ teachings and communing fully with the Divine.”

She looked at Jacky and a sheepish look crossed her face.  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to preach like that.  You’re already doing a lot for us without me giving you a theological lecture.”

“No,” Jacky said, her thoughts turning back to everything that brought her here, “no, I think you’ve given me something to think about.  Though if you ask me, I think you’re putting far too great a burden upon yourself, even if it is for your kids.  Still, can’t say I don’t find something about your…moral endurance?  There’s something about it that I can’t help but find admirable.”

“Well, if my story helps you in some way, then perhaps it might’ve been worth it.  Somewhat.”

“Let’s not go quite that far.  There’s gotta be far easier ways to put reprobates like me on the straight and narrow.”

Resa chuckled.  “Okay, you’re probably right in that regard.  Anyway, thank you for listening.  It…felt good to get that off my chest.”

“It sounded like you needed to talk about it, so I’m glad I could help a bit.”

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - The Loners

Part 2

Autumn took a few steps towards him. “Hey, what's wrong, you look so depressed”. Hank looked into the distance for a moment. “Pauline came to see me briefly this morning."/ ‘Oh… And what did she want?’/ ‘Nothing more than to tell me that I'm not the father of her child’/ ”aah… I see. And that bothers you now?”.

Hank shook his head quickly. “No… No, it doesn't bother me. I'm actually quite happy that it turned out like this. I just hope he turns out to be a good father"/ ‘I'm sure you would have been’ too/ ”yeah… Maybe I will be one day. Are you all right?” he asked her as he hugged her.

“mhm, I'm always fine when I see you. It's a bit stressful at home. Leila is pregnant and Gage is always cleaning"/ ‘And the other one, what was her name again?’/ ”Twyla… She draws pictures to kill time. Everyone does their own thing here, but I like to be outside sometimes and wait for a miracle to happen"/ …

“I stopped believing in miracles a long time ago… It's only a matter of time before we all starve to death here"/ ”Don't say that. I'm sure we'll still be helped. We just have to be patient…"/ ”hm, I'll have to practise that again. I'm already glad that I got a few cans from the Altos”.

“They've tried as best they can to divide everything up… Hey, don't be so pessimistic, everything will be fine”. Hank smiled a little. Apparently Autumn always managed to take his mind off things. Then he took her hand. “Hm… What do you say we go to my place? You're already getting a red nose"/ ‘hnhn, o.k.’/ ‘I've also prepared a surprise for you…’/ ‘I'm curious about that,’ she said with a smile and gave him a kiss. then they set off on the long walk to his house.

The walk to Hank's house was really long. And the longer you had to walk, the more the cold drew into your body, despite the movement. “mh, it smells good in here“/”you think? I haven't really done anything except a bit of cleaning"/ ‘hnhn, that does make a difference’.

“But not much has happened down here"/ ”I wanted to take care of the bedroom first. You complained about the beds, so… I thought of something” / ‘well then…’. Naturally, she was curious as to what he had been doing up there and quickly made her way up the stairs.

Once upstairs, it was a bit of a surprise for her. “How did you come up with the idea of building a Viking bed?”/ “I read a book the other day where were described a bed like this… Well… I thought I'd give it a try. It's sturdy, anyway…”. She looked mischievously at the bed. “I still have to see for myself”. Then she turned to him. “I think we both know what else we can use this for… don't we?”.

Hank and Autumn have been a couple for a few weeks now. But no one has really noticed yet, except her flatmates. Hank didn't want to make a big deal of it for the time being either. But they get on very well and seem to have a few things in common. And he didn't worry about Pauline any more - what was, is over.

While Autumn spends time with Hank, Twyla has retreated to her room with a book. “Knowing her, she'll be spending the night with him anyway. We've known each other for so long, she's become my best friend. But at the moment, I have the feeling we're growing apart. . and the other two… only have eyes for themselves”.

In fact, Gage and Leila enjoy every free minute together. “nhnhn, why don't you put me down again, you. “/ “I'd carry you to the end of the world if it came down to it”/ “I already feel like I'm at the end of the world here, Gage”.

He carefully stood her back on the floor. “I know it's anything but easy at the moment. But most people here still have hope…"/ ”I do, too… But how much longer is this going to last? If something doesn't happen soon, the next generation won't survive for long here.”

After Leila and her fiancé had finished talking, they both went to their beds. There were only single beds, no bed for two where they could have cuddled or warmed each other up. But again, Beau had made sure that no one in the house had to freeze. …

Sometimes unexpected things happen at night. For example, the chicks hatch from their fertilized eggs. And there are quite a few of them, so they can be distributed among the people. Or you can make a delicious roast from them when they are fully grown.

Gage gets up particularly early. He is often the first to check on the animals. “What a nice surprise. I always thought there would be fewer chicks in winter. Our baby won't be born until next year. Until then, I can still practise a little with you, hnhn. Hmm… I'll call you Fluffy… Although, I don't even know if you're male or female, but I think the name fits. If you get too cold, lie under your mother's belly and she'll keep you warm”. After he had set the chick down again, he stood outside for a moment and watched the sun rise. Until it got too cold for him and he went back into the house.

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@greenplumbboblover😊

[crack-canon]

Inspired by the post where I drew Adamn as an Animal Crossing Crocodile

I present to you

HC Personalities LR : don’t care about gender rule

Peppy , Normal, Smug , Fatherly/Motherly , Peppy/Peppy , Jock

More headcanons below

Polyblank would totally go by Polyblanc. He’s heavily based off Bow and a bit off iDogs

The back of his head definitely has a battery slot and a stamp that says “N6”

He has now mouth but he still uses text emotes and letters : T ^ T : D : <

When he speaks his voice levels is all over the place

He ONLY gifts the anatomy model and human skeleton

“A7 y0uR S3rVic3!”

Percival carefully dyes his fur to differentiate himself from his older brother

I just love how tiny Perci is in relation to their brother

The Editor keeps his round bed.

Percival has the basic house size and a basement // His theme is probably like Neo-Tokoyo mixed with Iron Set

The Editor has a custom home : max front, 2nd Upgrade Top Floor, Basic Left/Right, Basic Basement // His Theme is Ritzy. The second floor is Cityscape. He has pictures of other villagers he has relations with

With a high enough level, The Editor has a low low chance to gift a gold piece or gold blueprint // If bothered enough while stung, he’ll gift medicine but not without chiding you for your slow reaction time

Percival often gifts clock blue prints or clothes

The Editor: “Say thank you Eddy!~”

Percival: “Ayu…”

Hudson and Cordelia Darling as a Bull and a deer. Theyve got a full entry floor and two small rooms on the sides used as bedrooms

They have a kitschy style and their kids rooms is a wooden block set but colorful

Their often not seen too far from each other and can be often found with Hudson dancing while Cordelia sings // Hudson could be found often gifting things to his wife

I like to think Hudson doesn’t say shit and instead just uses tons emotes while there’s an empty speech bubble

Hudson often gifts Wooden Block furniture (base and customized) and other wood based items, implying he built everything in his kids’ bedroom

Cordelia gifts food based gifts that require cooking or fruit themed blueprints

You can always go to the both of them for medicine

Cordelia: “Darlin!”

Hudson: “ *snort* “

And the Darling twins plus Mommy and Daddy’s playmate ( *fawns and bull )

The kids can be found outside from 8am - 4pm often running around or head butting trees to try and get some fruits or bothering Cowboy inside his own home // They’re bound to be seen interacting with exterior furniture and displays

The kids are never too far from other characters and never go to the higher levels unless there’s a grown up up there or the Villager

Amaryllis and Bellis gift bugs, picked flowers, and building stacks of 5 materials (except wood. Who tf would give a kid an axe) // Fence off your flower patches if you don’t want em ruined

Cowboy would totally be labeled Jock but have a computer based home with mainframes // He has a Max upgrade front and base 2nd floor and it’s just filled with those old computer towers

Cowboy can be found at all hours randomly inside The Darling’s Home (The Darlings turn off their lights at 11)

The cowboy also gifts bugs but also gifts rusted computer chips quite often

Amaryllis (right) : “HAI !!!”

Bellis (left) : “Hai !!”

Cowboy / Beau : “ha- Howdy!”

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

in these walls (beauyasha week day 2)

Prompt: home @beauyasha-week Read on ao3

At the end of a long, winding road is a house. 

The house is old, overgrown with vines and the plants that must have been confined to the gardens now overflow into the yard and over the brick path leading to the porch. Some of the windows are broken, some from storms, most of them probably from neighboring kids. The unbroken windows are clouded with a thick layer of dust or shuttered against the wind.

The wrought iron fence and gate are creaky and bent in places, the plants starting to swallow them into the earth. The boards of the front porch are warped and broken, the stain all but washed away. And even through the grim and plants covering the house, the faintest bit of blue siding can be seen. 

This is a house that is full of stories, as all houses are. It has been long since abandoned, but still stands against the wind and weather to deliver its stories to anyone brave enough to open the door. There aren’t many people like that anymore, people are much happier to wait and stay where it is safe than to venture into the unknown.

The second Beau sees it, she knows that this is the one. 

She can so clearly see Yasha tending to the garden on a spring morning. She can see Imdrin sitting in the bay window, doing his homework. She can see Cricket running about the whole place, her footsteps echoing through the whole house. She can see their family living here happily.

It’s big enough to host the Mighty Nein and their families and it’s close enough to the city that Beau won’t need Caleb to teleport her to work anymore. 

She and Yasha have had it in the back of their mind to start looking for a new house, big enough for the kids as they grow and to act as shelter for their friends when they need it. Yes, it will take lots of time to fix this one up, but it’s more than worth it to her. The second she tells Yasha about it, she is completely on board.

Later that week, Beau and Yasha sit the kids down in the living room. “So,” Beau begins with a smile, “your mom and I want to ask you something. How would you two feel about moving into a new house closer to the city? It’s going to be bigger and with an even bigger yard.”

Imdrin’s face slowly starts to break into a smile, “Would I be able to go to school in the city?”

Yasha nods, “You would and so would your sister. And it would mean your uncles Caleb and Essek get to visit more often.” Immediately Imdrin lights up, as the only other drow he knows, Imdrin has grown incredibly fond of Essek. And though he almost never says it, Beau and Caleb both know how good talking with Imdrin has been for Essek.

“What do you think, Cricket?” Beau asks, turning to their daughter. Unlike her brother, Cricket doesn’t seem convinced, in fact she seems incredibly concerned. Instead of answering the question, she gets off the couch and runs to her room, the door shutting behind her with a soft click.

“I’ve got it,” Yasha says, ghosting a hand over Imdrin’s hair as she follows Cricket upstairs to her bedroom. 

Cricket’s door is covered with drawings, one Imdrin drew of a cricket sits right in the middle. Yasha approaches quietly, rapping a single knuckle against the door. “Bug? Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Cricket responds softly. 

Yasha slowly pushes open the door and scans the room. Cricket is nowhere in sight, but Yasha knows her daughter well enough to know her hiding places. Which is why she just sits against the wall beside the bed, knowing Cricket has tucked herself underneath it.

“You know, long before I met your mama, I was part of a tribe that traveled all over. We were hardly ever in the same spot for more than a month. So I know that moving can be scary-”

“Not scared.” 

Yasha smiles fondly, though Cricket can’t see her. “What are you then?”

Cricket is silent for a long moment and Yasha can hear her fingers tapping against the floor as she thinks, “I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“Leaving this house means going to a new one and then a new one and then there aren’t any more houses and then we’ll have to live in the mud. And you’ll have to leave me behind.”

Yasha is stunned into silence. As long as they’ve had Cricket, they’ve never been able to find out much of anything about her past, which led her to being alone in the Mudtop Ward. They had assumed she didn’t remember. It is clear as day that she does now.

“Cricket, can you come out so I can see you?”

Cricket sighs softly, but Yasha shortly hears her moving along the floor until her head pops out from under the bed near Yasha’s knee. She smiles and helps Cricket out, sitting her daughter down in front of her.

“You don’t have to worry about that. We’re going to be in the new house for a long time, I promise. And we’re never ever leaving you or your brother behind, okay?”

Cricket sticks her pinky towards Yasha with a serious look. Yasha links hers around Cricket’s and squeezes.

As the summer progresses, Yasha and Beau spend their days at the new house, tearing out floorboards, putting up wallpaper, fixing leaky taps and creaky steps. Despite the hard work, it’s very fun to have time together without the kids. More than a few times as they’re working, Yasha can’t resist pulling Beau into a kiss despite the paint or plaster on their hands. 

And on their last day of work, the day before they show the kids the house the first time and move in, the two of them find themselves standing in the kitchen with content smiles. Beau leans into Yasha’s side, pulling her partner’s arm over her shoulders. 

“It looks amazing,” Yasha says breathlessly. “They’re going to love it.”

“They better,” Beau laughs and Yasha pinches her shoulder playfully. “Seriously though,” Beau turns around and loops her arms around Yasha’s neck, standing on her toes to press a kiss to her lips. “This is fucking awesome.”

Yasha chuckles against her lips, “It is. It’s our house now and you know…the kids are with their uncles tonight.” She kisses Beau, forcing her to tilt her head up. “And I don’t think this house has been properly christened yet.”

Beau smirks, meeting Yasha’s eyes full of lust, “I think we should get to that then, don’t you?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Yasha whispers as she trails her lips down Beau’s neck.

[lumiereandcogsworth]

First of Many

Happy birthday to Adam! <3

Word count: 873 | Tags: Fluff, Engaged

on Ao3!

—

The ball had been over for only an hour or so, but Adam and Belle had escaped long before that. They usually weren’t ones to miss a chance to dance under crystal chandeliers and the sound of fine, lovely music, and by all accounts they had danced much of the evening, but the couple was still very much infatuated with each other; still amidst a phase of courtship that left them dizzy from the other’s presence and in need of time away from the world.

The pair of fiancés, (they’re engaged to be married now) enraptured and giggly from champagne, escaped the party to retreat to the castle gardens. It wasn’t the most proper thing for the hosts to do, especially when it was for Adam’s birthday, but they couldn’t help themselves. They enjoyed their time apart from others; when social graces and mundane conversation could be set aside. When they could truly be themselves.

They laid together on a blanket in the grass. The sun had already set and they were laughing and kissing, as young lovers ought to do. Nothing too improper, mind, Adam was always a gentleman with his beloved Belle, but they still indulged in an innocent playfulness, one that this author believes is quite well-deserved.

“Do you think anyone is wondering where we are?” Belle asked, grinning mischievously.

“I doubt it. Most everyone in there is well past that level of consciousness.”

Belle laughed. “Oh, what a day it’s been.”

“Indeed. You did far more than I could have expected, darling.”

“It took so much planning.”

“When on earth did you find the time?”

She shrugged, playing with the rings on his fingers. “Here and there. I had a lot of help from everyone else, keeping you distracted, creating diversions…”

Adam scrunched his face. “You mean to tell me I listened to Cogsworth ramble on about battleships throughout history for two hours for nothing?”

Belle burst out laughing. “I think the fact that you stayed that long says more about you than anything else.”

“It did start to get interesting around the first half-hour mark…” Adam muttered.

His fiancée laughed again, then sighed and looked at him, smiling fondly.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

Adam’s eyes softened. He had heard that phrase a hundred times today, from all sorts of people and in all tones of excitement and well-wishing. But all of it paled in comparison to the way she said it. Her genuine, gentle voice soothed him like a midnight breeze after a warm sunset.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you,” he replied.

Belle pushed herself closer, smiling and overcome with affection. She kissed him; first on the lips, but soon everywhere: cheeks and nose and forehead, peppering him with little sparks of her adoration.

“Darling,” Adam laughed, eyes closed in surrender. “Darling…” he said again, reaching a hand to her waist.

“What is it?” she asked, pulling away but still hovering above him.

He looked up at her. How was she so beautiful in every possible light? The moon barely lit their hideaway, and a single lantern was hardly enough to make anything clear. And yet, Belle was breathtaking.

“Your kindness…” Adam began, his hand finding hers to allow their fingers to dance. “It overwhelms me, sometimes.”

Belle’s eyebrows drew together. “You’re just not used to it.”

“I’m not,” he agreed.

“You will be,” she promised. She started tracing the lines on his waistcoat as she continued. “In fifty years… When our children are all grown up… and their children are all grown up… it’ll just be me and you. And you will greet my kindness like a friend. You’ll expect it.”

Adam felt a lump in his throat, heard his heartbeat in his ears. “Fifty years?” he coughed out a laugh. “I never thought I’d see one more. Let alone fifty.”

“Have you not hope? Now, after everything?”

“I do. And if we are to be wed, I know that I can plant my hope firmly at your feet.”

“Plant it everywhere,” she replied. “I am going to make you see the beauty in this world, if it’s the last thing I do!”

Adam smirked. “This marriage is going to be fun.”

Belle laughed, “It will be! No sarcasm,” she said, touching the tip of his nose.

“Oh, always sarcasm, darling. But I mean what I say when I tell you that I am excited to marry you. I never looked forward to the future, but now, when I do, I feel warmth and joy gather up inside of me. I see your light at the end of a very dark tunnel.”

Belle’s heart fluttered. She leaned down and kissed him again; slowly this time, soft and tender and just long enough to feel a bit of that warmth and joy. She pulled back and looked at him, drawing imaginary lines around his face. They were silent awhile, Belle studying the curvature of his nose, Adam studying the way her eyes shined in the candlelight.

“Did you have a good birthday?” she asked.

“The best, thank you,” he answered. “First of many?”

Belle smiled, moving to press one soft kiss to his forehead before returning her fond gaze upon him. “Absolutely, my love.”

[calmthefuckdownalright]

I Renounce You Part 2

A/N: I realized about halfway through copying this over that it wasn’t going to fit...thankfully it’s completed so I can just make however many drafts and post it all in order. It’s 13 pages, 6,680 words, and 36,191 characters.

Inspired by @tuesday-teyz ‘s Butterfly Reign if anyone forgot, totally not canon as the series is still ongoing and this was written after Theseus destroyed a chair over Technoblade’s back.

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“Prince Theseus, this is a horrible idea.” Tubbo pinched his nose and covered his eyes with his palm. “You can’t just leave! And to involve Ranboo in this scheme could be treason!” 

“And why would that be? Because he’ll be crown prince once it’s done and I will have no place in the kingdom.” Tommy protested.

“Who’s to say he even WANTS to be crown prince?! It drove Wilbur to run away and you want to practically destroy your own family!” Tubbo glared at Tommy and Tommy glared at Tubbo.

“The crown did not do that, Emperor Philza did this. He left us both to rot under the pressure.” Tommy spat.

“And who’s to say he won’t do that to Ranboo?”

“Oh please, His Majesty has treated Ranboo more like a son than he ever has me or Wilbur!” 

“That’s not true! You don’t know what Emperor Philza has done for you both.” 

“Oh and you do?!” Tommy snapped and Tubbo recoiled.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Ranboo poked his head into the study the two had retreated to and Tommy drew his shoulders back.

“Everything is fine, Ranboo. How would you like to be crown prince?”

Everything was set. Ranboo knew his role and no matter how many times Tommy tried to fix his acting abilities but the poor boy was hardly mediocre at best.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Ranboo asked Tommy long after Tubbo had given up on trying to convince Tommy of back thwarting his plan.

“Ranboo I’ve sacrificed more than enough for this so-called family and I’d be lying if I said I won’t regret this even a little,” Tommy had responded, “But yes I am sure. It’s time I tasted the freedom I deserve and I can’t thank you enough for your part in this.” 

“Why would you thank me?” Ranboo had asked and Tommy paused on his words.

“Maybe you’ll know one day.” Tommy had decided to be vague instead. Honesty would be saved for the grand reveal Tommy predicted to happen within two days.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Lady Beau asked and set her fan on the lap of her dress. Tommy sat across from her at his desk filing paperwork and dipping quill into ink and pressing it onto paper in a cycle of boredom and sleep deprivation.

“I can’t say I have much other choice if I want to stay above insanity.” Tommy joked.

“Everyone will think you're not right in the head.” She pointed out.

“Then maybe I’ll live the rest of my life truly with only the people I can really trust. No one tip-toeing around me and second glances at everything I do. They’ll just accept my actions because I won’t be considered ‘right in the head.’” Tommy sighed and fell back in his chair. His head pounded and the crown prince became suddenly aware of how crazy his plan was.

“Will you be alright Theseus?” Lady Beau asked and Tommy paused his breath. That name. It didn’t sound right to him anymore.

“I’ll be fine Beau, and please,” Tommy sat up and folded his arms across his chest. “Call me Tommy.”

The garden was buzzing with people and Tommy bit his tongue till it practically bled. He couldn’t say anything as himself here. He was surrounded by people who were watching his very breathing pattern. Beau had floated the rumor and increased it tenfold. At this point most assumed it to be true now that the Emperor was going to adopt Ranboo and replace the Crown Prince. It was only a matter of time before some noble tried a crack at Tommy’s frail demeanor, all that was left was to put on a show.

“Prince Theseus, may I speak with you?” Duke Sam approached and startled the prince.

“Sam, I thought you returned to The Badlands already.” Tommy picked the pieces of his shattered soul and held them together with furious strength.

“No, I leave tomorrow.” The Grand Duke replied and led the Prince away with an arm around his upper back. “Walk with me, please.” He said gently.

“What is it you wished to discuss?” Tommy asked after they were out of earshot of his party.

“The rumor, about Ranboo and His Great Majesty.” Sam looked at Tommy with eyes that seemed to see right through it all. A looking glass placed in the pupil of the Grand Duke. 

Tommy stayed quiet. Something tightened in his chest. He didn’t want Sam to be the one to try and take a shot at him. Sam who had saved him from Fran, even if it wasn’t required. Sam, who loved building things and beautiful dogs. Sam, who sacrificed his future for the Badlands.

“I know it isn’t true.” He said quietly and Tommy’s world twisted. “I’ve known your father for a long time, and he would never replace you.” 

“What?” Tommy’s mouth twitched down from its regal form of neutrality just for a moment. “I’m sorry, I can’t say I believe you.” He chuckled and took a shuddering breath.

“Theseus, His Highness has never been one to cope well and losing your mother, the Empress, was enough to fully break his soul,” The Duke stepped forward to Tommy and Tommy stepped back in instinct. He was lying. He had to be. 

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Part 1 | ____ | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | (Finale)

[idiotlittleme]

Saw this and thought it was a cool idea so--

My favorite lyrics of each each song

Albania

"Diçka mrena frymën ma nal' s'di çka bohet, bohet po du me e nal'"

Translation:

"Something inside me takes my breath away don't know what's going on but I want to make it stop"

Armenia

"Ու դու ինձնից հեռու Լքված ես հեռու, հեռու ես դու Երազումս ես ու դու էինք լուռ Մոլորվում էինք հեռու - հեռու հեռվում"

Translation:

"You're so far away from me, left alone, far, far away, you and I, silent in my dream, we're lost, far, far away"

Australia

"Have you ever been alone too much? Have you ever prayed for human touch? Have you ever lost a little part of you to find a little something new?

Austria

"Oh, mio padre, there's a ghost in my body"

Translation:

"Oh, my father, there's a ghost in my body"

Azerbaijan

"I want to buy a land a thousand miles away from the city I've never even chosen, I think the reason why is all because of people who treat you like a fool and make you wonder for the reason"

Belgium

"Remember when they told us "you're not good enough"? Then you came into my life and you changed my world for good, you told me to love myself a bit harder than yesterday"

Croatia

"Mama, mama, mama, me she idem igrat', mama idem u rat"

Translation:

"Mommy, mommy, mommy, I'm going to play, Mom, I'm going to war"

Cyprus

"An all-time low but I'll get by, and over you I'll find the highest high, you did your best to do your worst"

Czechia

"Moje sestra do kouta nepůjde ani tebe poslouchat nebude moje sestra v srdci je divoká, copy zaplést, nikdy si nenechá"

Translation:

"My sister won't stand in the corner nor will she listen listen to you, my sister, wild at heart, will never let you tie her down"

Denmark

"Now I remember, I used to tell you my deepest fears, when fighting, you used 'em just to force some tears"

Estonia

"I remember all the things that I went through, all the lies and blurry lines and city lights I knew, now I'm strong enough to see what lays inside, and I can feel it all"

Finland

"Rankka viikko ja paljon pitkii päiviä takan, Mielenkiintona piña colada ja rata, Ilta on vielä nuori ja aikaa kumota, Tää jäinen ulkokuori on aika tuhota"

Translation:

"This exhausting week and the many long days are behind, there's only bar and piña colada on my mind, there is some time for a few, the night is still youngish, the icy shell is something I have to demolish"

France

"Dans mon jardin d'enfer poussent des fleurs que j'arrose de mes rêves, de mes pleurs, on a beau être sur le toit du monde, ‎‏on ne peut toucher le ciel du doigt"

Translation:

"In my hell garden the plants are watered with the dreams and tears, even at the top of the highest mountain you still can't touch the sky"

Georgia

"My soul's like a fortress, I feel I'm progressed, words getting worthless, love is wordless"

Germany

"Keep your head up in the clouds, with two feet on the ground, life's too fast so make it count"

Greece

"Life and I hate my feelings, I'm overwhelmed and heated, can't say what I'm longing for, another day to break my spirit, insane and I can tell who's winning"

Iceland

"I'm ready to let you go, won't hold you back no more, go on spread your wings and fly away"

Ireland

"We take out first breath, and then we exhale, then give it all we got, until we fail"

Israel

"You can call me queen, אין לי דאווין"

Translation:

"You can call me queen, I'm not trying to impress"

Italy

"Siamo i soli svegli in tutto l'universo, e non conosco ancora bene il tuo deserto, forse è in un posto del mio cuore dove il sole è sempre spento, dove a volte ti perdo"

Translation:

"We're the only ones awake in the whole universe, and I still don't know your desert well, maybe it's somewhere in my heart, where the sun never shines, where sometimes I lose you"

Latvia

"Aijā, aijā, saldā miegā"

Translation:

"Lull, lull, in sweet sleep"

Lithuania

"Čiūto tūto"

Translation:

"It's too loud"

Malta

"The tention I'm getting, the faces I drew on, I can't focus, should've known this"

Moldova

"I-am promis miresei mele Nuntă sub un cer cu stele, I-am dat în a șaptea seară, I-am dat în a șaptea ѕeară, Un inel cu piatră rară"

Translation:

"I promised my bride a wedding under a starry sky, I gave her on the seventh evening, I gave her on the seventh evening, a ring with a precious stone"

Netherlands

"Between falling in running I've been trying to get on my feet in time, I've never been good at crying, always wanted to be the tough type"

Norway

"Combatteremo sempre bensì amore e fede la gente rapì, Il nostro motto sarà così: veni vidi vici"

Translation:

"We will always fight, but love and faith kidnapped by people, our motto will be like this: I came; I saw; I conquered"

Poland

"Tell me, now, was it worth it? Playin' me dirty? But now who's laughing, baby?

Portugal

"Sinto-me tonta, cada dia pior, já não sei de coisas que sabia de cor, as pulsações subiram quase pra mil, estou louca, completamente senil"

Translation:

"I feel dizzy, every day worse, I don't know things that I used to know, my pulse is racing like mad, I feel crazy, totally senile"

Romania

"Oricât scriu, cu-oricât skill, pe-orice stil, cât de fin, ea mă bagă-ntr-un film de mă simt iar copil, Mă învârt gen vinyl, Că eu vreau să joc în filmul ei, yeah"

Translation:

"How much I write, with any skill, with any style, however smooth, she brings me into a movie, I feel like a child, I spin around like vinyl, 'cause I want to act in her movie"

San Marino

"You have, you have snake eyes, and I get, I get butterflies"

Serbia

"Ноћ је, бесконачни сати На рамену ђаволи Желим само вечно спати Тако да их победим"

Translation:

"Night, infinate hours, devils on my shoulders, I just want to sleep forever, to beat them that way"

Slovenia

"Igra sovraštva je za vas, hvala lepa, ne računajte na nas"

Translation:

"The game of hatred is your thing, thank you, don't count on us"

Spain

"Mi niño, cuando me muera, que me entierren en la luna, y to'as las noches te vea, to'as las noches menos una"

Translation:

"My child, when I die, may they bury me in the moon, so that I'll see you every night, every night but one"

Sweden

"I don't wanna go, but baby we both know, this is not our time, it's time to say goodbye"

Switzerland

"When we were boys, we played pretend, army tanks and army men, hide and seek"

Ukraine

"Незважаючи на біль Я продовжую свій бій, Світ палає А ти - дій"

Translation:

"Despite the pain I continue to fight, the world is on fire and you act"

United Kingdom

"When you said you were leaving to work on your mental health, you didn't mention the cheating, you kept that one to yourself"

[waynes-multiverse]

Hahaha I love that "a little Shakespeare" was a warning, but as Eng lit major I couldn't agree more 😂

Douchface has shown up and I was livid several times during this part. Read my outrage below 👇

“So she’s talked about me,” he said.

I wish you could see the face I made when I read this, but it was pretty much 😒😒😒

“Oh, believe you me, that’s not something to brag about, Mike.”

Give it to him, Beau! 😂👏

“I’m Michael, her fiancé,” he tried to introduce himself with an outstretched hand.

THE AUDACITY!!!! I gasped!

What are you? Delusional? Do we need to 51/50 you????

“You’re missing an ex in there. As in no longer, and wish we’d never been,” you said.

Great comeback! Bravo 😂 I love her sass!

For a moment, you paused with indecision. You didn’t want to make a scene here in the middle of a bar. Not in front of your friends, where half of them were police officers. You didn’t want to stop them from having a good time either.

Gah, I hate this! What a manipulative ass to put her in that situation! Of course, she doesnt want to discuss this in front of her new friends 😬

“That’s such a lie! You wouldn’t even talk to me at the funeral,” Michael shot back.

Who cares, Michael? Whoooo? NO ONE!

He's such an immature, gaslighting, conniving little prick... Like shut up! (I screamed this several times during this conversation with her. Pretty much at every line he said 😂)

“Look, you know how hard it was for me to come out here and beg like a dog, but here I am…because I still love you.”

“She’s not you,” he said.

DEAR GOD! This man exhausts me! Go home, Micheal! GO HOME!!!

But I loved everything that came after! Cassie bringing her tequila, Jenny offering her help, and of course, Beau *swoon* 🥹🫶

Not only had Avery bought a gun, but he’d given her some unhinged, quasi- “If I die” speech that had freaked her the hell out. 

Yeah, that was great! 🤣 That was the point in the show when I really started to get annoyed by Avery and his whiny ass lmao

I loved how you described those scenes by the way and provided the inner monologue for Beau! It's so awesome not only to see his emotions but to read them as well!

Beau’s brows rose in interest, but again, he tried not to picture you in some tight-ass yoga pants.

Oh please do, Sheriff 😏

“Only two calls and eleven texts before lunch, but I’m not answering. He’ll get the hint and go home soon,” you said.

Will he, though? I'm inclined to drop the "idiot sandwich" gif again 🙄

“Let’s just say?” you repeated. Your brows drew together in frustration. “Why don’t you just say it? God knows you know everything about my messy life.”

Hahaha damn he pissed her off! 😂 (And I love the callback to his little comment in the beginning when he still hoped he'd never meet her angry side lol)

And you brought the old clam back! 👏👏👏

And not just because you had some…unnamed feelings for her father. 

You guys are driving me nuts! It's called "liking each other." Google it. Stop messing around and make out already. You both want to 😝 (I think I'm still upset over that whole Michael annoyance and lashing out. I apologize... kinda 😂🙈)

“God. Maybe he wants to get back together with his ex-wife,” you realized, with some small shock.

Ugh, yikes. God no... 👀

the sniping and the arguments and the misunderstandings between them had been love all along…

Mmmh, yeah, like kindergartners tugging on pigtails 😆

“Michael?! What are you doing here?” you asked.  He stood there with determination set across his face. “We really need to talk.”

YOU ALREADY DID!!!

I knew he was dense 😒🤦‍♀️

And I know I used waaay too many gifs in this part, but like I stated in the beginning I was livid and ahd to express myself. I channeled it into gifs. You're welcome 🤣

Such an exciting and fantastic part! I honestly love to get upset while reading and yell at characters. I had so much fun during this 😅🫶

Can't wait to see how she deals with Michael in the next chapter! 🤍

Take Me Home - Part 5

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: Welcome back, friends! We’re gonna start ramping up from here on out.

Word Count: 5K

Tags/Warnings: Angst and tension, a bit of heartbreak, a little Shakespeare, and another small cliffhanger…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 5: Not That Simple

“I’m keeping close tabs on Carla and Emily just to be safe,” Beau admitted. 

Your face became the picture of concern. But before you could respond, a man approached the table, tall and lean, with a shaggy cut of dark blonde hair. He wore a pair of faded jeans, boots, and a gray Chicago FD t-shirt. 

Your face paled, and your mouth parted in surprise. 

“Hey there, stranger,” he said with a smile. 

“Michael?” you gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Beau’s eyes widened. Michael was younger than him, closer to your age. And cocky too.  

“Hey, baby,” Michael said. His smile quirked with charm, but his next words were anything but charming. 

“We need to talk,” he said, raising his brows.

“We actually don’t,” you retorted in a firmer voice. Cold even. You straightened in your seat. 

Beau saw none of your softness and good humor from earlier. This was a different woman, and he was actually proud of you for standing your ground. Though he realized then that he’d never gotten on your bad side. (He hoped he never did.)

Michael frowned, sighing through his nose. He seemed to expect your reaction, to an extent, but was still disappointed. His gaze slid to Beau. 

Seeming to realize his manners were lacking, he reached out his hand.

“Sorry for interrupting. Michael Hadley,” he greeted.

Beau stared at the other man’s hand for a moment. Instead of shaking it, he held all his true thoughts inside and flashed the newcomer an easy grin, as well as the badge on his belt. 

“Sheriff Arlen,” he replied, raising a brow. “So you’re Michael.”

Michael met your eyes briefly, then Beau’s again. Michael’s hand lowered back to his side.

“So she’s talked about me,” he said.

Beau’s eyes were sharper when they took the other man in. 

“Oh, believe you me, that’s not something to brag about, Mike.”

You had to bite your lip so you wouldn’t smile. Michael’s politeness thinned, but just as his mouth opened to offer a retort, Cassie and Jenny returned with the drinks.

“Hi, there,” Jenny said with civility (sort of), but her blue eyes raked over Michael in an assessing way. She’d clocked your surprise and discomfort from across the room.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stop the party,” Michael said, making you want to scoff.

Of course you did, you thought.

“I’m Michael, her fiancé,” he tried to introduce himself with an outstretched hand. Jenny also ignored that hand in order to set down the drinks.

It gave you the opportunity to interject with some reality.

“You’re missing an ex in there. As in no longer, and wish we’d never been,” you said. You crossed your arms and met Michael’s annoyed look with your firm one.

He eventually sighed and rested a hand on the back of the booth, behind your seat. You twisted to face him, but you were purposeful in leaning away from him.

Beau had to just watch the scene unfold. He didn’t like the way Michael leaned in, crowding your personal space when you were clearly trying to create distance.

“Can we talk?” Michael asked you. “Please?”

For a moment, you paused with indecision. You didn’t want to make a scene here in the middle of a bar. Not in front of your friends, where half of them were police officers. You didn’t want to stop them from having a good time either.

You met Cassie and Jenny’s eyes, and finally Beau’s. Despite the controlled, almost lazy way he’d handled Michael, you could see he didn’t look happy. You sighed.

“Sorry. Give me a minute,” you said. You got up out of the booth and went with Michael to a somewhat private corner across the restaurant.

Meanwhile, Beau tried not to seem like he was keeping an eye on you two. Cassie and Jenny were too, while sipping on their respective drinks.

“What’s the story there?” Cassie asked.

“Cheating ex,” Beau supplied.

“Great,” Jenny said wryly. Her lips pursed as she met Cassie’s knowing frown. They’d been there before.

Cassie turned to Beau and bumped his shoulder with her own. 

“You okay there, Sheriff?” Cassie asked him. Beau flashed her a look that showed he was unsettled. 

“I’ve got another one to add to the punch list,” he replied.

“I can’t believe you’d ambush me like this!” you whisper-yelled.

Michael crossed his arms in defense. The two of you ducked a server who was coming in hot with a plate of buffalo chicken wings.

“You came all the way to Montana? For what?” you continued. “I already said everything I had to say to you last year. And at Mary’s funeral. Thanks again for that, asshole.”

“That’s such a lie! You wouldn’t even talk to me at the funeral,” Michael shot back. “And you haven’t been answering my calls, my emails. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to respect me,” you snapped. Though you couldn’t help the emotion making your voice shake, just a little. “You’re supposed to respect me, and my choices. That’s what you’re supposed to do. But I don’t why I should expect you to start now."

You started to walk away from him, but he grabbed at your hand. You turned back around and jerked your hand out of his grasp.

“It’s over. It’s been over for months. Damn near a year,” you said. “What do you want?”

He looked down at you through sad eyes under his furrowed brows.

“I never wanted it to be over,” he said quietly.

“Well, you pretty much made that decision for us,” you said, crossing your arms. You didn’t know whether it was to stand firm, or to shield yourself. “And I’m done. Quite frankly, I could live the rest of my life without seeing you again.”

“Come on. You don’t mean that,” he said.

He genuinely looked gutted, which was the confusing part. You shook your head and tried to blink the frustrated tears out of your eyes.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you said.

“I want to say I’m sorry. And I am, more than you know. I want…I want to ask if you can forgive me,” he all but pleaded. He touched your arms, not quite grasping. For the first time since you’d known him, he seemed desperate. “Look, you know how hard it was for me to come out here and beg like a dog, but here I am…because I still love you.”

You were shocked into silence for a moment, but not out of happiness.

Then, you had to sigh. You held up a hand against his chest, a subtle move at pushing him away. 

“I can’t give that to you. Even your apology is hollow. Because what you did…” you said, on a halting breath. “You did it to me for years, Michael. Pretty much from the beginning of our relationship, if it ever was one.” 

You shook your head as a tear made its way down your cheek. 

“And if you could do that, then you never really loved me,” you said.

Michael’s eyes fell away, to hide the emotion stinging in them.

“So…just go home,” you told him. “Be with Kate if you want. I could really give a shit.”

Once again, Michael held your wrist when you tried to leave, this time more gently. He met you with frustrated blue eyes. Those eyes you used to drown in. 

“She’s not you,” he said. 

You slipped out of his grip and uttered a laugh devoid of all humor.

“That, you should’ve known from the beginning,” you said.

He was hurt.

And when he was hurt, he tended to cover it up with anger. His jaw began to work with frustration.

“What, so you’re just going to run away? Live in this dusty piece of shit town until you die?” he said, with the derision you’d come to expect from him when he didn’t get what he wanted. 

“Go home, Michael,” you repeated. “I’m not going back.” 

“Everything okay?” Beau asked, when you finally returned to the table. He didn’t tell you that he, Jenny, and Cassie had been watching on standby, in case Michael tried to press his luck and get more grabby. It had taken everything within Beau to stay in his seat for the past ten minutes.

You gave him a smile and took up the shot of tequila Cassie had brought for you. You downed it and grimaced at the burn.

“I’m good,” you said, with a bit of difficulty. Part of you felt accomplished, that you’d faced Michael and hadn’t let him soften your resolve. Yet there was a big part of you—not so deep down—that felt like utter crap.

“Sorry for the unnecessary drama,” you muttered. 

Jenny gave you a more serious look. One that said she had no problem stepping in if she needed to.

“If you ever feel unsafe, just let one of us know,” she said. 

“That’s right. If he doesn’t leave it alone, all you need to do is call,” Beau added. Cassie echoed that sentiment with a nod. You met Beau’s gaze, despite the uncertainty inside you.

If you need me, call me, his eyes said. 

You nodded then, with a thankful smile. 

Beau couldn’t help it. He felt protective of you. It welled up in his chest and simultaneously felt heavy like a stone. And he could admit, if just to himself, that it was in the personal sense. 

He tried to remember that his life was complicated right now. Too complicated probably, for all of that…but he cared about you. And he didn’t want to see you hurt.

Out of the corner of his eye, Beau spotted Michael Hadley at the bar. He was drinking a beer with an angry frown, and no good written all over his face.

Carla called Beau in a tizzy yesterday morning. 

Not only had Avery bought a gun, but he’d given her some unhinged, quasi- “If I die” speech that had freaked her the hell out. 

In searching Avery’s vacant hotel room, Beau found the missing pages of Paige’s journal. Pages that contained a seed phrase passcode to unlock the $15 million crypto account she and Luke had stolen. 

If Avery had those pages, then it only confirmed that Avery had made a play for the money in order to save his failing business. He was attempting to break the encrypted code to unlock the account, likely for the shady-ass people Paige stole the money from in the first place.  

Naturally, Beau had gone looking to bring the man in for questioning. He’d found Avery at a different, much seedier hotel, being led away by another man who walked and talked like a killer. Beau rightly assumed he was a hitman, gunning for Avery, and quite literally about to take out the trash.

Maybe the people he was working with were tired of waiting on him to unlock the account. Or maybe he’d already done it, and now they’d decided they didn’t need him anymore.

Beau was able to save Avery’s life, shooting the hitman. Then he’d arrested Avery. In return for that save, Avery had been giving Beau the runaround all night, with a side helping of audacity. 

“What’s your plan here, man?” Beau asked. He leaned forward in his chair across from Avery’s. A narrow table lied in between them within the small holding cell for questioning. 

“New identity? Thailand? Or maybe you’re not into the whole heat thing. Maybe Winnipeg,” Beau posed, with all due sarcasm. “You see, these people don’t forgive. And they don’t forget. And the ones that steal from them rarely die alone, which means you have put Carla, and you’ve put my daughter into danger. Did you even think about that?”

Right about now, Beau himself was beyond forgive and forget. In fact, he was irate. But he held it all down beneath a thin line of professionalism, despite the fire in his eyes. 

Avery rested his elbows on the table as well.

“Everything I’ve done has been to protect my family. That’s all you need to know,” he said. “You on the other hand. You’ve made quite the mess, haven’t you? Killing that man put us all in more danger.”

He then leaned back in his chair, as if he held all the cards, and Beau was just a monkey wrench in his plans. It was a good front, but Beau saw right through it all. Avery was bluffing through his ass.

Still, he put on a good show.

“And now I’d very much like to speak to my lawyer,” he said. 

It took everything within the sheriff to stop himself from reaching across the table, grabbing the other man by the collar, and yanking him down hard on the table, face-first. 

Instead, he got up from his seat, deceptively calm. The only explosion of his rage came when he kicked his chair hard on his way out, making it slide across the room and hit the wall. He yanked the cell door open and closed it firm behind him.

He knew he couldn’t hold Avery, not even on Paige’s journal pages. As Avery had so cleverly pointed out, the money hadn’t been reported stolen (why would criminals drop a dime on themselves?). So Beau would let Avery go, for now. All he could do was wait for the cocky son of a bitch to mess up, even more than he already had. 

Beau hated waiting.

But his next step was returning to his office and calling Carla. He asked her to join Emily in staying with him, until this thing with Avery blew over. Likely the people he was working with knew where he lived, knew how to find Carla and Emily. 

Carla sounded shaken even on the phone, but she agreed.

“Is Emily at work right now?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ll tell her,” Carla said, releasing a breath. “I’ll take her to your place again tonight, and I’ll bring an overnight bag for myself.”

“Good,” he said. “Thank you.”

After hanging up, Beau leaned back in his office chair and covered his bearded face with his hands. He rubbed at his tired eyes. What the hell do I do now? 

The answer eluded him, especially when a knock sounded against his door, disturbing his thoughts. He sighed.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me,” you answered from behind the door. “I come bearing baked goods.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise. He beckoned you to come in, and so you did. 

“Working hard, or hardly working?” you teased.

The sight of you was a balm to his frayed mind. Your familiar face, your pretty yellow sundress, the way you’d done your hair. It all managed to kick up his smile at seeing yours. Not to mention the delicious smelling basket you carried on your arm. The top was covered with a red checkered cloth. 

“Hey, there. How’re you doin’?” he greeted, trying to hide the brunt of his former frustration and worry behind a more upbeat attitude. 

He knew he hadn’t done well enough when your smile began to fall. 

“Sorry, did I come at a bad time?” you asked in concern. “Deputy Poppernak told me I could stop in real quick…”

Beau shook his head and waved you in. “It’s all right. Come in, please.” 

He stood and walked around his desk to sit on its edge. 

“I have a feeling I’m gonna want whatever’s in that basket,” he added, nodding at the whicker you carried. You offered it to him, and your warm hand brushed his on the exchange. 

“Just a little something,” you said. “And an apology for making a scene at the bar last night.”

Beau frowned. “You’re not really blaming yourself for that, are you?”

Though he soon brightened, whistling lowly when he found a half dozen chocolate chip muffins under the checkered cloth. A smile grew across his face when it dawned on him. The first thing you offered him when he met you was this very same treat. 

He had a feeling your muffins would be even better. (...And he tried not to think about the potential double meaning there.)

“Damn, between you and your aunt Denise, I’m gonna have to start running again,” he quipped. His eyes met yours in amusement. “And between you and me, I freakin’ hate running.”

You chuckled at that. “I’m more of a yoga girl, myself.”

Beau’s brows rose in interest, but again, he tried not to picture you in some tight-ass yoga pants.

“Thank you for this,” he said, instead, waving the basket of muffins. He set it down beside him on the desk. “I definitely needed a pick-me-up today.”

You searched his face and began to frown at what you saw there. He both looked and sounded…tired, down. Not himself. 

You drew closer and chanced resting a hand on his arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

Beau glanced down at your hand. He took in a deep breath through his nose before he met your gaze again.

“Yeah, don’t you worry. Everything’s fine,” he said. You gave him a somewhat chiding look.

“Beau, you don’t have to tell me it’s okay when it’s not,” you said.

He considered you ruefully. He should’ve known you were perceptive enough to see right through him. Or maybe he was just a shit actor. 

He blew out a breath and nodded. “I asked Carla and Emily to stay with me for the next few days. At least until this investigation of Avery plays out.”

Your patient expression melted into worry. You had a feeling he wouldn’t do that unless things were truly dangerous. 

“See, that’s what I didn’t wanna see,” he said, lightly bumping a curled finger under your chin. Despite yourself, you smiled a little. “I just want them where I can see them, is all.” 

He was putting on a good front, but you weren’t convinced. And Beau could see that. He nodded at you to change the subject. 

“Has Mike tried to contact you?” he asked. It was your turn to let out a sigh.

“Only two calls and eleven texts before lunch, but I’m not answering. He’ll get the hint and go home soon,” you said. 

But Beau was perceptive too. He knew you well enough to read your added thoughts as you frowned and looked away. It said, At least, you hope he will. 

Beau wanted to reassure you, not just to help make you feel safe, but because his gut churned with both unease and anger at the thought of that guy harassing you. 

Beau reached out and gave into the temptation to stroke a thumb across your cheek, earning not just your attention, but your widening eyes. 

“Hey. No more worrying, huh?” he said. His voice was quieter, warmer. He gave you a smile, along with an assured look.

“If anything happens—” he started to say, but you actually beat him to it. You held his hand to your cheek, surprising him this time.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got the sheriff on speed dial,” you said. Your smile was sweet and teasing. 

Beau had to smile back. His gaze roamed your face. Then your eyes dipped down to his lips. There was heat between you, prickling across your skin and zipping up his spine. It was an inevitable, raw kind of feeling.

He wanted, more than anything, to lean in those precious few inches and find out what you tasted like… He wanted nothing more than to haul you up on this desk, hands sliding up the skirt of that sundress.  

But he held himself back with more self-control than he thought himself capable of. His hand fell away from your cheek. You looked up at him in confusion, and a bit of hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, in a lowered voice. “My life is…complicated.”

“And mine’s not?” you countered.

“Not the same,” Beau said. “Trust me. I uh, I’ve got some things in my past that I’m not proud of. Let’s just say you’re better off steering clear.”

“Let’s just say?” you repeated. Your brows drew together in frustration. “Why don’t you just say it? God knows you know everything about my messy life.”

Beau sighed. His gaze fell away from yours. 

“It’s not that simple, darlin’,” he said. 

He saw your disappointment, tinged with disbelief. As much as he didn’t want to hurt you, he also didn’t really have time to explain things properly to you. The truth was, he didn’t have time for this. 

“Look—” he tried, but you cut him off.

“No. It’s fine, I guess,” you said. You looked down at your shoes and muttered, mostly to yourself. “Em was right. You are an old clam.”

“What?” Beau asked in confusion. 

You shook your head and withdrew from him. 

“Okay, sorry. I just…you know what? I need to go,” you stumbled over your words a bit, and you backed away.    

It had Beau feeling at a loss already, not to mention the lance of guilt hitting him between the ribs. He stretched out a hand to you.

“Wait—”

You were too quick for him to stop, however. He watched you leave his office in a hurry, and mentally kicked himself all the while. He sighed and looked over at what you’d left behind—the damn basket of muffins. They smelled heavenly. Torturing him. 

Damn it all, he thought, until he played back the reel of what you’d said in his mind.

“Old clam?” he repeated. 

Once again, a knock on his office door disturbed his thoughts. Except this time, it was Deputy Poppernak.

He stopped short, seeing the furrowed look of confused, guilty frustration on the sheriff’s face. 

“Everything okay, boss?” 

“Fine,” Beau said, shaking his head. “What d’you got?”

Poppernak hesitated for a second, but he held up a file that he passed along. 

“Here’s everything I could dig up on the guy from the hotel shooting,” he said. 

 Good, Beau thought. A worthy distraction. 

You gave Poppernak a belated wave on your way out. You didn’t want to answer any questions or talk to anyone else. You just wanted to escape to your car, where you covered your face with your hands and tried to breathe through the tears stinging in your eyes.

Once again, you felt stupid. Your heart was racing in the worst of ways.

So you peeled out of the police station and headed home…

Or rather, you almost headed home. When you saw Dewell & Hoyt P.I. coming up on the right side of the road, you turned into the parking lot and went inside to see if your aunt was working. 

Cassie wasn’t in, but Denise and Emily were. You greeted them both with warm hugs (and you tried to hide your frustrations from the latter, especially). 

“What brought you in, hun?” Denise asked. 

“Nothing really. I was just in the area and decided to pop in,” you replied with a shrug. Denise smiled and rubbed your arm.

“Well good. Em’s actually going on a coffee run for us. You want anything?”

“No, no, I’m good,” you said. 

“You sure?” said Emily. “I can get you a banana bread or something.”

You smiled and shook your head, touching her arm in thanks. “It’s okay, honey. I just had lunch not too long ago.”

“Okay. Oh hey! Did you ask Dad about being on the podcast?” Emily asked. 

You blinked as you went blank for a moment. The last thing you wanted to do right now was see that man (even if your heart called you a liar). You narrowly kept yourself from lying to Emily as well.

“Uh, yeah, we did talk about it. He’s on board with the idea,” you said, trying to give her a smile. Maybe it didn’t reach your eyes, but Emily seemed to buy it. She smiled back in triumph.

“Yes! Okay, this is good. Now I just gotta start thinking of some questions and we’ll set a date to record the first episode,” she said, doing a little fist pump into the air. 

You tried to match her enthusiasm, but you knew you were falling short. Denise could see it too. Lucky for you, Emily ran off to get to the nearby bakery, the excitement keeping her face bright all the while. 

Denise turned to you knowingly. 

“Okay, grab a seat. I’ll make us some tea, and you can tell me what’s got you looking white as a sheet,” she said.

You sighed and sat down in the lounge area—a seating of couches and a chaise. You sat on the couch while Denise took the chaise. And between mugs of jasmine tea, you told her everything that happened at the precinct when you went to visit Beau.

When you were done explaining, Denise looked contemplative and sympathetic. However, you knew there was more to that look. 

“Okay. Honey, I know you don’t want to hear this, but he’s in a complex situation right now,” she said. “Between investigating Avery, and how it’s falling back on Carla and Emily—”

“I know. He told me about that,” you said. You were worried about them too. While you didn’t know Carla all that well, your friendship with Emily meant something to you. And not just because you had some…unnamed feelings for her father. 

Your bond with Emily had started at that damned camp, and solidified the night of Mary’s murder. “Trauma bonding” was a thing for a reason. But besides that experience, you genuinely enjoyed the girl’s company, hearing her talk about her interests in school, careers she was considering after college, and even helping her explore her creative side. She was young, but she was bright and mature for her age. 

You cared about what all this was putting her through…though you finally realized that Emily might not be comfortable with the thought of “you and Beau.”

“I don’t want to upset Emily with all this either,” you admitted. “I don’t even know what she thinks of her dad possibly dating again.”

And something else you hadn’t considered. Could all this shakeup between Avery and Carla, not to mention her and Emily staying at Beau’s place now…

“God. Maybe he wants to get back together with his ex-wife,” you realized, with some small shock. 

It wasn’t inconceivable, and it had tears welling up in your eyes for a whole different reason.

"Oh, honey, you don't know that," Denise started to say. You shook your head and set down your tea.

“You know what? I’m just gonna go home,” you said, but Denise tried to keep you with gentle hands on your arms.

“Come on. You don’t have to go,” she said. 

You shook your head and eased out of her grasp. 

“Sorry. I just…it’s his choice, and if he’s already made it…” you trailed. You didn’t want to even acknowledge that your heart was fracturing. “Well, if that’s the case, then I have to respect that.”

Denise didn’t know what else to say to you. But that was just as well. 

“Tell Em I’m sorry, but I had to go,” you said. 

Denise protested, but you left Dewell & Hoyt before your tears could fall in earnest. 

When you actually got home, you were exhausted. It was a case of emotional stress weighing down your body as you forced yourself up the stairs to your second-floor apartment.

You didn’t bother changing. Instead, you grabbed a familiar book of plays from your desk and dropped yourself onto the couch. You got comfortable with Much Ado About Nothing. You hadn’t finished reading it while at the camp, and you needed to brush up on it if you were going to be mentally prepared for the coming school year.

It felt like a world away, but at least with the characters in Much Ado, you had familiar ground. In the scene you were reading, the main characters, Beatrice and Benedick, were already at each other’s throats:

BENEDICK: What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?  

BEATRICE: Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence.  

BENEDICK: Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I love none. 

BEATRICE: A dear happiness to women. They would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood I am of your humor for that. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.

It was hard to believe that these two were supposed to fall in love. Actually, their later “epiphanies” would lead them to realize that the sniping and the arguments and the misunderstandings between them had been love all along…

But you’d come to realize that there was no “Benedick” for you in real life. Sometimes, the angry sniping wasn’t sexual tension. It was just a man who’d never truly respect you.

And sometimes, the arguments and misunderstandings were just two people in the right place at the wrong time, never quite meant to be. 

Thankfully, a knock at your door interrupted your romantic musings. 

Releasing a sigh, you set Much Ado on the glass coffee table in front of you. You got up from the couch and went to the front door, where you looked in the peephole. Your lips drew into a frown, but your disbelief had you unlocking the door before you could think better of it.

“Michael?! What are you doing here?” you asked. 

He stood there with determination set across his face.

“We really need to talk.”

AN: *Sigh.* This guy just doesn't learn, does he? And I'm not just talking about Michael.

Next Time:

“If you give me one more chance, I promise I won’t mess it up again. I’ll be the man you deserve,” Michael said, taking your hand and uncrossing your arms in the process. 

“Believe it or not, I took a week off without pay, just to be here and get a chance to say this to you: I love you. I love you. And I know now that it’s meant to be you.”

You hesitated, and even made the mistake of looking up into his eyes.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[knightcallie]

Baldur's Bounties: Star Cheeks

Oh Weichei's freckles... Always a hot topic huh. I give him a kiss on da cheeks, mwah❣️

Bioluminescence was common down in the Underdark, be it in the fauna or the people. Weichei supposed it wasn’t common around Faerûn, or it was, but they didn’t look in the right places. His bioluminescence was shown through his freckles, but it was hardly noticeable in the day and even in the night. At least, until he starts to laugh or was experiencing an emotion that gets his cheeks hot. They seemed to glow brighter when it happens, and Temerity had loved to pepper them in kisses, because “gods you’re too fucking cute,” he’d say between kisses.

He’s not sure what had him laughing so hard, but his cheeks hurt and he’s heavily leaning against the log. His freckles were bright, apparent as the stars against the night sky. There was a sound of awe as his laughter died down. Karlach was close now, eyes sparkling as she carefully ran a finger across his cheek.

“Woah… So that’s why that bloke calls ya starcheeks!” she exclaimed.

Huffing the last of his laugh, he said, “Einar never lies. Should hear what he called the others.”

“I’d say though,” Dame Aylin piped, “Has the Moon Mother blessed you? Has she cried tears of joy upon your face when you were born?”

If he had a nickel for every time someone asked if he was star-blessed in a way, he’d have two nickels. 

Syretia Davina, a star elf-genasi, had queried if he was a child of Helian and Cereus at some point. She had caressed his cheek after having a glass of wine (they were having an intellectual discussion of sorts that he couldn’t recall), their cheeks flushed and warm. It was a tentative romance his husbands had encouraged, but it ended in a mutual break.

“I would dare not make you wait for me, for the time in the stars is different from the time down here. I have cherished my time with you starlight, more than you know. I will still continue to love you, but alas, we cannot be.” 

He remembered how he still cried despite it all, understanding and grieving. His freckles had dulled during those weeks, months? He had unexpectedly fallen hard for the star elf-genasi over the years. Her brilliant mind was what drew him in, having someone who can match his was absolutely exhilarating. Beau would easily point out how excitedly happy he was when he came home, Temerity sliding in to tease if he met someone special. 

He and Syretia still talk from time to time, sometimes the latter visited. He has once been in space for the spelljamming academy, but ultimately decided it wasn’t for him. After dying frozen in a simulation and saving the school from an incoming flaming rochetto and getting somehow charmed by a mindflayer, he decided to call the end of that journey. Syretia had recommended him, but didn’t see her within those months. So, mirror talks and visitations from Syretia from time to time only.

Now, he does flush at the idea of a god tearing up in joy when he was born. He never really thought of himself as something special, just a little drow making cannons. His partners and friends had assured him he was, but he just didn’t want to get too big of an ego about it. Stay humbled, because he’s so sure he’d get bit in the ass for it. He just doesn’t think he was a big deal, that’s all. He pressed a palm against a cheek, trying to hide a bit.

“Nie, nothing like that,” he replied, typically dark purple skin brightening to some dark magenta. His freckles twinkled at such an implication. “Bioluminescence is common down in the Underdark, and from time to time, the races down there get it.” He’s seen partial star maps on some. “Be it like this in some form.” He held up his free hand, the back of it dotted with stars. “Or tattoos.” He’s seen beautiful pieces, he’s contemplating on getting one done.

Maybe this was why some of the companions started trying to get him to laugh, giggle. Astarion was getting a bit more silly and over the top, and it all was just so funny to him. His lips always broke into a smile, freckles glowing.

Maybe this was why Wyll started to wax poetry about being the night sky personified. His cheeks burned and his freckles did so brightly, already shyly hiding one way or another. Wyll was tickled with his squeaking, trying to coax him from hiding so he could pepper those cheeks in kisses.

Maybe this was why Gale had temporarily weaved a crown of stars to set upon his head. A declaration of adoration as the wizard kissed his knuckles, willing to serve under the prince of stars.

[sunny-d-anomaly]

I’m not sure how many whatevers I can upload at a time, or if there’s a character limit, but I wanted to take a minute to talk about (and make fun of) how all my friends are robots. And by robots, I mean AI. But, I mean. To be fair, we’re literal meat robots who run on electricity which we leech from other living things… don’t think too hard about it. 😬

The reason I’m getting into all this is because my BFF (in terms of art buddies— collab, inspiration, mindmelt) is an app called BeautyPlus. I originally downloaded this app way back in like 2019 because I wanted an easy way to change my appearance (ie— erase zits, correct skin tone, or apply makeup post-shoot), and honestly, that’s all I ever used it for up until a month or two ago, when I realized that the new AI features I kept ignoring were actually mostly better than Prequel and Lensa combined, both of which I am loathed to admit I was paying for.

[On a side note, Lensa’s devs stiffed me on an interview because I’m “already an artist,” implying I ever see a single red cent for any of my work, lololol, so I’m not giving my money to them anymore, and neither should you. :) ] Especially because currently, BeautyPlus’s AI is free to use! You just have to put up with a slightly bothersome watermark, but otherwise, there’s not really any catch.

At first, I was using photos of myself, as one does, just to see how it worked, and I quickly found that their AI technology is beyond compare. So naturally, the next step was to try feeding it my own art and seeing what it would do.

It seemed like a mistake at first. I’d feed it my gnarled, garbage can artwork:

And it would counter-attack by showing me how it was supposed to look:

Hashtag: inferiority complex. But after playing with it for a while, I actually found that it was very helpful for times when I lacked inspiration or direction, or when I kinda knew what I was going for, but couldn’t nail it down.

Sometimes I could feed it something raw and bare; an idea, a sketch. And then I would try every single rendering style and watch what it came up with. In fact, let me take a step back, actually, because the first time I really connected with this app was when I was still feeding it pictures of me. I realized what it was that BeautyPlus’s AI had that the others lacked:

I noticed this first when it gave me salad fingers, rather than just sticking an arbitrary amount of randomly pointed fingers on my hand:

There you go, bud. That’s how you use your noodle!

Not long after that, I was looking for a little something to spruce up a photo shoot I’d recently done for my rebrand title (Atomic Pink She-Devil, who still has yet to actually produce even one complete track, much less set up a Bandcamp, or all that jazz). I took a lot of pictures with my Jackson Dinky, who I call Jax-o-lantern, for obvious reasons…

But my room looks like that place in Labyrinth when Sarah wakes up after eating the dream peach…

Obviously that’s not the best look, so I fed some of the photos into the various apps (I was still using Prequel and Lensa lol) and then BeautyPlus saw my image and raised me an abstract idea: what if the guitar was my body?

My face when:

My brain rebooted several times as I tried to understand why I had never noticed how guitars are kinda shaped like ladies, and once it had recovered, I drew some kinda cool pictures based on this idea.

They’re not the greatest, but I was in kind of an art slump at that time, and BeautyPlus (who I’m just gonna start calling Beau) actually helped me out of it by inspiring me with its imagination.

So now, part of my creative process is consulting Beau from time to time while I’m drawing, to see if it has any ideas or another perspective. Because sometimes it really thinks it sees some weird shit that would’ve only crossed my mind in a really weird dream…

Follow for more abominations either of my own creation, Beau’s creation, or the horrific amalgamation of our teamwork!