#i look up to the lord above and say hey man thanks

[earthandsunandmoon]

I want my life to please me, not another small town hometown bringdown

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Making Arrangements Part Two

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 7.9K

Notes: Hey look it's part two! This is the end of the fic!

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; mention of Reader's mother passing away, though it doesn't say how; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; possessive Tommy; explicit sexual content - vaginal sex, unsafe sex

Summary: Mrs. Shelby. It had been your truth for nearly six months now, but you heard it so rarely that it hardly seemed to fit you.

“You look impressed.” You noted it to him with pride. Thomas’ gaze swept around the hotel room as he pressed a tip into the bellboy’s hand. The young man dipped a courteous nod before hurrying out, shutting the suite door behind himself.

“You chose well,” Tommy conceded. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning away to hide your proud smile. When Tommy had asked you to make arrangements for your trip, you’d been certain it was a test. It seemed like you’d passed, at least. The interior was opulent, with rich shades of red and tawny across the furnishings.

“There’s a balcony,” You nodded him toward it as you headed for the doors. You opened them, stepping out and peering over the hotel’s small courtyard. You heard Thomas come up behind you, felt his hand rest on your lower back as he set the other on the banister.

“It’ll be nice to be able to get some air without all of the street noise,” You added. Why were you so chatty now? It was hardly the first time you’d been alone with him.

Maybe it was the fact that Tommy had trusted you with this in the first place. Maybe it was how close he’d stuck to you on the car ride down, urging you to sit closer so that he could hear you properly over the rumbling of the road beneath his tires. Maybe it was the fact that, unless something else prevailed, you were going to share a bed with your husband for the first time that evening.

You glanced back toward Tommy and found him eyeing the courtyard below. You cleared your throat, looking over your shoulder and nodding inside.

“Do you like it?”

He turned to you, a small, patient smile on his lips.

“Yes,” He reassured, his thumb sweeping gently over your lower back. “I like it.”

You nodded, relieved, and turned back to the courtroom.

“What time is your meeting?”

“Six o’clock.”

“What time do you want me ready to go?”

“Five thirty should work well enough.”

You reached out, fishing into Tommy’s jacket for his timepiece. You ignored his heavy, curious look as you eyed the face. You had a couple of hours between now and then.

“Alright,” You shrugged, tucking the watch back where it belonged before you turned, heading into the room. It was another moment before Tommy followed you back inside.

“What’ll you wear?” He asked.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Where we’re going and who we’re meeting.” You crouched by your suitcase, casting Thomas a sidelong glance. “You still haven’t told me.”

He hummed, drifting closer and leaning against the bed frame.

“We're meeting Jay Miller.”

You frowned. That name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it. He waited patiently as you wracked your mind. Jay Miller. Jay Miller…

Your mind flashed with a face that you used to know well—a warm smile, a lopsided grin, the flutter of dark lashes as you took him between your lips—

You turned away from Thomas, your face going hot.

“I didn’t know that you knew Jacob,” You said crisply.

“It’s a young acquaintance. Lewis made introductions.”

And you would have to thank your brother for that—perhaps with a smack upside of his head. What the devil was he thinking, introducing your husband to your former beau?

“How fortuitous.” You straightened from your suitcase, looking down at its contents. Jay Miller. Lord above. You hadn’t seen the man in years. Maybe he wouldn’t remember you? Maybe he wouldn’t dare say a thing in front of Tommy. Maybe Tommy didn’t even know—

“That one.”

Your mind quieted as Tommy stepped up beside you, pointing into the suitcase. Your brow furrowed as you followed his direction, crouching down to pluck up a purple beaded dress.

“Why this one?” You asked, turning the fabric over in your hands.

“I’ve never seen you in it.”

“You haven’t seen me in most of the things I’ve packed,” You pointed out. Tommy hummed, pressing tightly up against your back, making your stomach turn somersaults.

“Then this’ll be a good place to start,” He insisted.

“And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“We're having dinner at the Granville Hotel."

You drew in a shaky breath as he stepped away again, reahing into his pocket for his cigarette case as he headed back toward the balcony. You'd wear your purple dress to the Granville Hotel. Fine. You looked down at the dress, smoothing the crepe satin with your fingers. You’d known that you would need to prepare yourself physically, but preparing yourself mentally was now an entirely different matter.

-- 

It was a boon that Jacob seemed as shocked to see you as you had been when Tommy had mentioned his name to you. For as long as it had been, Jacob seemed almost wholly unchanged. He stood from the restaurant table, straightening his jacket as you and Tommy grew closer.

Jacob’s dark hair was neatly coiffed; his warm, dark eyes lingered heavily on you as you approached him on Tommy’s arm. He was taller than Tommy, nearly 6’4, with broad shoulders, and biceps that bulged in such a way that they seemed to challenge the seams of his suit. 

“Mr. Shelby,” Jacob turned his attention to Thomas, shaking his hand warmly.

“Mr. Miller,” They shook hands before Tommy gestured toward you, “I believe you know my wife.”

“I do,” Jacob nodded, “But I’m ashamed to say that I have not had the pleasure for quite some time.” He took hold of your extended hand, and while you’d expected a shake, he bowed over it, brushing a kiss to your knuckles. You fought to hold your expression steady as he leaned back, murmuring, “Mrs. Shelby.”

Mrs. Shelby. It had been your truth for nearly six months now, but you heard it so rarely that it hardly seemed to fit you.

“Mr. Miller,” You answered softly. “It is nice to see you again.”

“And you.”

“Shall we sit?” Tommy asked.

“Please.” Jacob waved his hands to the seat on the other side of the table from him. Tommy pulled your chair out for you, nodding as you murmured your thanks. He leaned down, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, and you couldn’t help but glance back with a small smile on your lips. You didn’t even care if it was for show. The outward affection that Tommy had given you in the last few weeks felt so nice. It had been so long since you’d felt anything like that, not since—Well. Not since Jacob, at least.

You let your eyes stray to the other side of the table where Jacob seemed to be perusing the wine menu. It was a relief. You weren’t sure what business the two were engaged in, and finding out right off the bat would have been a bit much for you to handle. You knew well enough now that Thomas liked to ease into his business rather than state it outright.

--

Dinner was delicious. Course upon course upon course of perfectly prepared, filling food, chased by sips of the best bottles of wine that the restaurant had to offer you. Jacob and Thomas spent the entire meal exchanging pleasantries, talking around business…Until you reached the wasteland between dessert and the bill.

“...Now,” Jay started, folding his arms on the table. “We ought to come to our reason for meeting.”

“In front of the lady?”

“She can handle it.”

Where there had been a tease in Tommy’s voice, there was a thread of annoyance in Jay’s, insistent and firm. You weren’t sure who you were more grateful for at that moment. Jay knew you in your place in your family’s structure; Tommy was still learning you, in a way. He shifted in his seat a touch beside you, curling his arm around the back of your seat.

“I know she can,” Tommy insisted. “I just wanted to remind you that it’s simply not polite.”

Polite. You were almost certain that that word had never once applied to Tommy Shelby. Jay gave Tommy a tight smile, giving a small nod.

“Well then,” He replied, tone clipped. “Let’s get to it. We have sixteen distribution centers, but we’d only be able to lend five to you and your operations.”

You glanced toward Tommy, trying to gauge his reaction to the news. He nodded slowly, tapping the ash from his cigarette into the tray on the table.

“When we last spoke,” He spoke matter-of-factly, his tone tipped with venom, “You told me that ten centers would be available.”

“Yes, well.” Jay’s gaze flitted toward you lightning-quick, then away again. “That was blue sky thinking on my part. The fact of the matter is, we have five. Take them or leave them.”

“I’ll leave them.”

Your gaze flitted over to Tommy, stunned. He’d leave the option of five, rather than pursue them and find five elsewhere?

“You’re kidding,” Jay scoffed before he nudged you beneath the table with his foot. “Talk some sense into your husband.”

You considered for a moment, taking in Tommy properly. It was stalwart—almost flat—but he quirked a brow. You took in his expression, his countenance…And you knew. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be enough for him. You shook your head a little, your gaze fixed on Tommy as you agreed:

“It’s ten or nothing, Jay,” You warned.

“Please,” Jay laughed. “You can’t have bought into his shit so quickly.”

Tommy’s expression flickered as he turned to meet Jay’s eye again, his eyes narrowing.

“You doubt my wife’s sense?” Tommy frowned, his voice daring Jay to disagree.

“Thomas,” You warned softly, but it was drowned out by Jay’s, “I’m questioning whether your wife still has a mind of her own.”

Tommy stood so quickly that it made you jolt, stunned at the sudden move. Jay followed suit, the glasses on the table rattling as his thighs hit the table on the way up. You reached out, hurriedly steadying the table as the motions drew the attention of the other diners. You looked up, gaze darting between the two of them.

“You question my wife’s intellect. That is a dangerous path to walk.”

“I knew her long before you, Shelby, and better, if I do say so.”

“Is that right.”

“Thomas,” You hissed, “Don’t.”

Your dread grew as Tommy’s gaze held steadfast and heavily on Jay’s.

“Tommy,” You reached up, catching hold of his hand and squeezing it, “Please. Not here.”

It was another long, harrowing moment before Tommy lowered himself to sit beside you again, his arm curling around the back of your chair. You watched him, your heart pounding as Jay reluctantly lowered himself to sit, casting an apologetic smile toward the maître d.

“So,” Tommy drawled, “If five is all you’ve to offer, we may as well conclude our business now.”

“I suppose we should,” Jay agreed, his gaze drifting toward you. Your eyes dropped to Tommy’s shoulder, holding steadily there, rather than look at Jay.

“I’ll take care of the check,” Jay offered.

“There’s no need,” Tommy insisted, drawing out his money clip and slapping a stack of bills on the table. “It’s on us.”

--

Your entire body was hot as you stormed into your hotel room, already reaching up to remove your earrings as you crossed the threshold.

“Was that necessary?” You spat, glancing back toward him.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

You bit your inner cheek, holding in a hysterical laugh. That was bullshit. You tossed the earrings onto the vanity, ignoring one that pinged off of the mirror and onto the floor. You reached back, struggling to tug your dress off. You huffed in irritation, simply holding your arms up. It was a moment before Tommy strolled over, drawing the dress off of your body. You turned away from you before he could get a proper look, snatching the dress, your pajamas, and robe before hurrying behind the room divider to change.

You drew off your slip and your stockings hurriedly, listening to Tommy mill around on the other side. You tugged on your pajamas and robe, tying the tie tightly before rounding the divider, your pretty purple dress balled up to shove into your suitcase.

“I did not appreciate that,” You announced primly, crouching beside the case for your toiletries. 

“Appreciate what, precisely?”

“Being used as a bargaining chip.”

You straightened, settling at the vanity and taking up your cold cream to take your makeup off.

“...That’s not why I brought you.”

“Bullshit.” You met his eye in the mirror, uncaring of the fact that you likely looked ridiculous, smearing cream all over your face. “You wanted a position from the higher ground, and bringing me, you got it.”

You sprung up, striding over to the restroom and taking up a washcloth. You twisted on the tap, running it under the water and raising it to clean away the cold cream. You looked into the mirror, swiping away the remaining smudges of kohl beneath your eyes. You drew in a steadying breath, fighting to staunch your irritation. It felt good, but it just wasn’t enough.

You could hear the twisting of a bottle top, chased by the almost melodic sound of whiskey being poured into a glass. You straightened up, pitching the used washcloth into the basin of the sink and winding into the room. You plucked the glass of whiskey out of Tommy’s hands moments before he could take a sip, stomping over to the balcony and yanking the door open. You drew in a deep gulp as you leaned against the balcony, peering into the courtyard. The small winding path around it was lit with small lanterns, swaying in the evening breeze. You heard Tommy’s footsteps approaching after a few moments, but refused to look in his direction.

“What if you’re right?” He asked after a few moments.

“Then I’d say that you’d accomplished your mission.”

“Thank you for following my lead.”

“You should’ve taken the five.”

“Excuse me?”

“Better to have five to start with and look for five,” You argued, glancing up at him. “You could’ve negotiated a lower fee with Jay and an equal fee elsewhere.”

“You think my choice is foolish.”

“I think it’s short-sighted.”

Tommy’s brows rose and fell swiftly.

“You’re certainly entitled to that opinion.”

The telephone rang on the side table just inside the bedroom, and Tommy stepped away with a murmur of, “Excuse me,” As he went back inside. You turned to watch him, leaning against the balcony and watching him. He plucked the phone up, tucking it against his ear and answering, “Yes…Ah, Jay,” His gaze darted to yours. “I didn’t expect to hear from you this evening…Mm…Mhm…I see…”

Your brows rose, stomach roiling with nerves as you listened.

“Yes…Yes, ten centers will still do just fine,” Tommy insisted. You narrowed your eyes slightly. Dickhead.

“Of course… I understand…Thank you…Lovely doing business with you as well.”

You rested your chin on your hand as you heard Tommy lower the receiver back into the cradle. A moment later, he joined you on the balcony. You listened as he drew out a cigarette, tucked it between his lips, and lit a match. You caught the acrid scent of his cigarette just a few moments later.

“...Go on,” You finally sighed.

“‘Scuse me?”

“Gloat. Get it over with.”

“I think I’ll wait.”

--

“Tell me about him.”

Getting into bed with Thomas had been nerve-wracking. You’d been certain that he’d stay up and go out, but as you’d shut the light off and gotten under the covers, he’d joined you. There was a good amount of space between the two of you. You’d been staring at the ceiling, praying that sleep would come quickly, but you’d laid in silence until he’d asked that shocking question.

“What?” You frowned, letting your head loll to the side to look at him.

“Jacob Miller.”

You could feel him watching you in the room’s low light. You rolled onto your side to face him, tucking your hands under your head.

“I’m sure you did your research before doing business with him.”

“I did, but everything that I know is strictly professional. How did you meet him?”

You sighed softly, casting your mind back.

“It was at a party.”

“You brother’s?”

“No, he was still too young then. One of my Aunt Pearl’s friends threw it.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

“How old was he?”

“Mm…Twenty I guess.”

“You liked him.”

“Not at first.”

“Why not?”

“He was just…I don’t know,” You shook your head. “He was too showy, flashy. Loud. But, he was already drunk by the time I got there. He’s far more calm when he doesn’t have a few in him.”

“Did you want to marry him?”

You considered for a moment, your thumb sweeping along the band of your wedding ring.

“I used to, I suppose.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“...It didn’t feel right.”

“And our marriage did?”

Did. The word hit you low in the belly. Did? Not does? What made Tommy think that your stance on the marriage had changed already? Was it your irritation at his tactics earlier that evening? You were certainly justified in that upset, and you wouldn’t let him talk you down from that, at least.

“...It’s different,” You insisted. “Jacob and I were simply attracted to one another. No strings. You and I married for the sakes of our families.”

“Do you regret it?”

You were quiet for a moment, taking in Tommy’s features.

“...No,” You shook your head. “We both got what we wanted. Didn’t we?”

Tommy nodded slowly, his foot gently brushing yours beneath the sheets.

“That we did.”

You nodded, relief melting over you.

“Have you ever been in love?” You hedged. It took a moment before Tommy admitted, “Yes.”

“Who was she?”

“There was a girl. Greta. We were young, and…She got very sick.”

“Only her?”

“...Another, named Grace. She worked at the Garrison.”

“Why her?”

“I thought we were cut from the same cloth.”

“...And now?”

Pain flashed across Tommy’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Now I know better.”

-- 

It was strange to wake up with someone else. You opened your eyes slowly, focusing on the rise-and-fall of your belly with the weight of Tommy’s arm atop it, the heat of his body pressed into your side. You tipped your head to look at him, taking him in properly in the early morning light. You raised your hand, gently smoothing back his sleep-mussed hair.

The night had yielded far more than you’d expected. You hadn’t expected Tommy to tell you about his first love, and you hadn’t expected him to ask about yours. You hoped that it would bring you closer, but with Tommy, you could never tell. Maybe it was leverage…But if it was, why would he have told you about Greta, or Grace? You peered up at the ceiling, noting to yourself that you ought to ask Peggy more about them when you got back to Birmingham.

You glanced toward Tommy as you felt him sigh, nuzzling your shoulder sleepily.

“...Morning,” You murmured. He hummed softly, turning his head from the window.

“I want coffee.” “I’ll order room service.”

You rolled over, reaching for the phone. You sucked in a breath as Tommy’s arms curled around your middle, his body pressing up against your back. You swallowed thickly, reaching out to dial the front desk.

“...Hello?...Two coffees…” You requested, “And, um…” You drew the receiver away. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“Toast for now.”

“And two orders of toast…Room 402…Thank you.” You hung up, settling back down in bed. “It’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Should be ten for what we’re paying to stay here, ” Tommy sighed, brushing his cheek against your shoulder.

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Fine…You?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Tommy rolled away, stretching and yawning widely before he sat up. You stayed in bed, trying to remember the warmth of Tommy cuddling so close, certain that you wouldn’t feel it again any time soon. You’d forgotten how nice it was to be held. You watched him for a few moments, taking in the expanse of his pale back before you finally pushed yourself to sit up, lowering your gaze to the sheets as Tommy turned back toward you.

“...You alright?” He asked after a moment. You swallowed thickly, forcing a placid expression as you met his gaze again.

“Of course.”

For a moment, you thought that he may push back for an answer, but he let it go, nodding as he fished into his coat pocket for his cigarettes.

-- 

The news that the Blakes would be visiting Birmingham had reached Pearl first. She had mentioned it to Polly, who had told Tommy while Lewis was in earshot. Lewis had written and sent you a note, and you’d had the facts of it by noon.

By the time Tommy returned for the evening, you were completely occupied with the arrangements. He found you in the kitchen with notebooks and your planner spread out over the table.

“I see you’ve heard,” He commented.

“I have.”

“Is there dinner?”

“There's soup and bread in the oven.”

Tommy grunted, walking more deeply into the kitchen. You hardly registered the feeling of him resting his hands on your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

“...How was work?” You asked after a few moments.

“Fine.” You heard the oven door open, then close again. You tutted as he nudged some of your work aside, setting his plate down before he sat beside you. You could see Tommy rolling his sleeves up out of the corner of your eye, but you simply drew another notebook nearer to yourself, eyeing an itemized grocery list.

“What are you doing?” Tommy asked after a moment.

“Totaling the estimated costs. I want everything to be prepared before they arrive.”

“Mm…Have you eaten?”

You turned the page of your mother's old notebook, brow furrowing. Was it apple cake or apple pie that the Blakes preferred? Or apple strudel? You knew that there was apple involved—

You jolted as the notebook was yanked out from beneath your hands, tossed to the other side of the table, out of reach. You whirled around, eyes wide.

“Tommy!”

He pushed the plate toward you, turning it in your direction so that the stew was closer to you than it was to him. “Eat.”

“And what’s to stop me from just taking up the notebook up again?”

“I am.” Tommy snapped his fingers, pointing at the plate. “Eat.”

You huffed softly, taking up a piece of bread and reluctantly dipping it into the stew.

“...I made this for you,” You grumbled.

“What was it that the minister said when we were married? About the two being as one? Means we share.”

“How technical,” You grumbled through your mouthful. You glanced up as Tommy nudged a glass of wine closer to you. You took the glass up, taking a deep pull before passing it back. Lord above, you hadn’t even realized how hungry you were. It hit you all at once, your stomach grumbling as you swallowed. You didn’t dare look at Tommy, nervous that he’d heard it.

“How long have you been at this?” He asked, waggling a finger toward the mess on the table.

“I don’t know. A while.”

“Mm. An awful lot of uproar for the Blakes.”

You cast him a sidelong glance, brow raised. “The Blakes are one of the oldest families in our acquaintance. I haven’t seen them since I was a child, since—” Since before your mother had passed. You cleared your throat, lowering your gaze to the plate. “Anyway. I was just going over my mother’s old party notes. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Beyond offending them and losing our connections? Gee, Thomas, I can’t think of a thing,” You quipped dryly. He seemed to smile unwittingly.

“Less chatting, more chewing,” He counseled, nudging the bowl closer again.

-- 

“I trust you have everything in hand.”

Pearl’s tone indicated that she did not trust that you did, in fact, have everything in hand. Despite her prickly barb and lack of faith, you’d managed everything quite well. The Blakes would be staying in your guest room, which had been fully kitted out when you’d remodeled the house. You’d ordered in a chef and a sous chef for the next few days, giving you the freedom to deal with the house, and you’d hired on a maid permanently. Ethel was a quick, eager, high-spirited woman, who had practically been your shadow for the last few days.

You cast Pearl a sidelong glance, jaw clenched as she lazily swept her eyes across the neat sitting room. You could just make out the sound of the cook and his sous chef bustling about in the kitchen, Ethel in the living room, setting the table.

“Yes, I have,” You nodded. “And thank you for all of your help this week.”

Pearl snorted at your contemptuous tone, tapping the ashes from her cigarette into a tray on the sideboard.

“You’re the lady of the house. You have to learn how to manage these things for yourself sometime. It may as well be now.”

You sighed, turning to the house and straightening the cushions for what had to be the eightieth time that day.

“Did you see them when they went into the office?” You asked, glancing back toward Polly.

“Mm, briefly. Beulah looked like hell. Poor woman never did have the stomach for the crossing. They booked too late, couldn’t get a cabin close enough to the middle. She must've spent the last five full days chucking her guts up.”

“Pearl,” You scowled, disgusted.

“I”m simply saying, don’t be too offended if she doesn’t eat too much at dinner tonight.”

“Mm. How about the old man?”

“Oh, you know Chester. Strong as an ox. He’ll outlive us all.” Pearl was quiet for a moment before she added, “They brought Hugh.”

The news hit you like a freight train. You groaned loudly, giving your foot one petulant stomp before striding over to the door to the dining room. You drew in a deep breath, steadying yourself before you opened the door.

“Ethel.”

“Ma’am?”

“We’ll be ten for dinner tonight—Unless,” You glared over toward Polly, “You have any more surprises.”

“Not a one. You’re a dear, Ethel,” Pearl gave her a bright smile. You turned your own tight smile toward Ethel, nodding, “Ten.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s better this way,” Pearl insisted as you let the door swing closed. “You were saying that you hated a lopsided table. Hugh evens out numbers.”

“How kind of him,” You grumbled. “How old is he now?”

“Thirty.”

“Married?”

“Divorced.”

“Mm.”

“...Attractive.”

You arched a brow at Pearl’s comment. She watched you for a moment before she lowered her gaze to the smoldering end of her cigarette.

“Is your husband still seeing that woman?” She asked. The mention of Lizzie made your gut pang with bitterness, but you forced your face into an uninterested mask as you shrugged.

“I don’t know,” You admitted.

“Does he bring her around?”

“No, but he may go to her. However he handles that business, he doesn’t—...It isn’t in the house, at least.”

“Have you considered asking him?”

“I don’t care what he does.”

“It’s up to you to know. Especially for the course of this visit.”

You sighed softly. “Thomas will do what’s best for the business. He won’t jeopardize it for a roll in the hay.”

“You’re certain?”

“Trust me, aunt. If there is one thing that he cares for in this world, it’s that.”

-- 

Pearl’s assessments of your visitors had been correct—you could see that the second they walked through the door.

With a full head of greyed hair and a neatly trimmed handlebar mustache, standing at 6’2, Chester Blake had the same larger-than-life air that he’d possessed when you were young. He was a little thicker around the middle than he had been the last time you’d seen him, but the sands of time didn’t exactly flow north. He was aging, but he wore it well. Beulah, on the other hand, looked as if she’d spent the entire crossing on the cargo hold of the ship. Her hair and clothing were neatly styled, but her typically pinked fair skin looked sallow, and her expression was drawn. Her bright grey eyes were dull, and her smile seemed just a little wobbly as she took you in.

“My word,” She managed, “How much you’ve grown.”

“And you haven’t changed at all,” You smiled as you embraced her, “Either of you.”

“A lie, and one that your mother would’ve abhorred, rest her soul,” Chester patted your shoulder, “But I’m happy to hear it myself.”

You smiled, shaking your head.

“I think that my mother would’ve scolded me if I hadn’t said as such.”

Tommy skirted around Beulah, resting a hand on your hip and leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. You smiled, despite the fact that the show of affection was likely a show for your guests.

“We mustn’t all crowd in the doorway,” You insisted as Tommy helped Beulah out of her coat, passing it off to Ethel, “Can I get anyone a drink?”

“Have you got whiskey?” Chester asked as they followed you into the sitting room.

“Man after my own heart,” Tommy commented, walking over to the sideboard.

“And you, Beulah? Some tea, perhaps?” You suggested softly. She took your hand, giving it a grateful squeeze.

“I’d love nothing more.”

“Ginger?”

“You’re an angel.”

“Ethel,” You turned to your maid as she headed for the kitchen, “A ginger tea for Mrs. Blake, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

You guided Beulah to a seat before joining Tommy at the sideboard.

“Would you like one?” He murmured.

“Thank you, no. I think it’d be best if I kept my head for the evening. There’ll be wine with dinner, besides.”

“Mm.”

You glanced toward Beulah where she had closed her eyes, then looked toward Chester, where he was eyeing the tintype photographs of your parents, and of Lewis when he was young.

“...Where are the boys?” You asked after a moment.

“With Polly and Pearl, showing Hugh a good time at the Garrison.”

You groaned quietly in annoyance. That was just what you needed—the lot of them spilling in to dinner, absolutely smashed.

“They’ll be on their best behavior,” Tommy added before you could complain further.

“You’re certain?”

“They gave me their word.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line before you gave a short nod, murmuring, “Alright.” You could feel Tommy eyeing you for a moment before you felt his hand slide across your waist. You raised your eyes to his as he shifted just a little closer, his hip pressing to yours.

“The contract was signed this morning—everything from here on out is just pleasantries. Relax.”

You drew in a deep breath, holding it for a few moments before you sighed, lowering your eyes to collar. You closed your eyes as Tommy leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You patted his hand softly before he drew away, taking up one of the glasses and turning back to your guests.

“Here you are, Chester.”

You glanced toward Beulah, grimacing as you saw her raise her hand to her mouth, resting it there, as if she wasn’t sure whether she’d be ill or not. You walked over to her, forgoing propriety as you crouched beside her.

“The tea should be ready in a moment. Would you like to go and lie down for a few minutes before dinner?”

She gave you a small, grateful smile.

“I’ll be alright, dear,” She insisted, patting your hand. “But could I ask you to get the tin of mints from my coat? They’re in the left pocket.”

“Of course.”

You straightened, heading for the coat closet. You’d only just retrieved the tin when the front door was flung open. You heard the clamoring of voices just a moment later, and you watched as Polly, Pearl, Lewis, Arthur, John, and an unfamiliar man piled in. You folded your arms across your chest, unable to help the slight, disapproving raise of your brow. Pearl caught sight of you first, and she cackled, pinching your cheek.

“Give up the sourpuss, pet, it’s only us.”

“I can see that, thank you.”

Ethel zipped into the hall, rushing to collect the coats as quickly as they were being shrugged off. You gave Lewis, Arthur, and John a peck on the cheek as they passed you, heading into the sitting room.

“I don’t get one?”

The man’s voice gave you pause, and you turned to get a better look at him.

Hugh Chester Blake had been a menace of a child when you were growing up—stealing your books, dipping the ends of your hair in ink, shoving you down into the dirt as he passed. Your gaze swept him speculatively. He had his mother’s eyes, his father’s thick, dark head of hair. You had remembered a lanky little twit, but he’d grown to be quite tall and quite broad.

“Hello, Hugh,” You greeted.

“That’s not a very warm welcome, is it.” He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to step back, swallowing thickly as he crowded into your space. Christ, where had Polly and Pearl gone? Play nice, just play nice. Pleasantries, you thought. Thomas had done the hard work, you couldn’t undo it by insulting the man—

“About time, Hugh,” You heard.

You could’ve cried with relief as Tommy joined you, curling a territorial arm around your waist.

“Mrs. Blake is looking for those mints, darling,” Tommy added. Darling, that was new—Your mind stalled at the endearment before you squeaked, “Oh, goodness! Excuse me.”

You hurried away from the crowded doorway, just catching on Tommy saying, “You boys took your sweet time.”

You crouched beside Mrs. Blake’s seat again, murmuring your apologies as you passed the tin over.

“It’s quite alright,” She insisted, “I know all about the hosting game—your attention is torn ten different directions.”

You smiled gratefully, giving her hand a squeeze as you straightened, glancing around. Everyone had drinks in hand…And Tommy and Hugh were still in the doorway. You frowned, recognizing the tight, irritated set of Tommy’s jaw. What could they possibly be discussing—?

“Dinner is nearly ready, Mrs. Shelby.” Ethel’s news snapped you out of your contemplation, and you nodded, smiling at her.

“I’ll start herding the cats, then. Thank you, Ethel.”

--

Dinner had gone off without a hitch. Every dish had been prepared perfectly—and the chef had been quick to heat broth for Beulah when she’d been wary of not being able to keep any of the rich meal down. You could feel yourself beginning to truly relax as you watched Pearl and Polly dance with John and Lewis. The sound of the record player, their chatter and laughter began to brighten up the typically drab, quiet calm of the sitting room.

“Room on your card for me?”

Hugh’s question made you clam up again, and your eyes darted to his palm. Pleasantries. You could manage one dance, couldn’t you? You gave him a small smile, resting your hand in his. You knew the moment that you did that it was a mistake. He tugged you far too harshly toward the others, causing you to nearly trip over your own feet. He rested his hand on your lower back, fingers splaying wide, nearly dipping lower than what was appropriate. Your hear ticked up in your chest as you took in the ruddiness in his cheeks.

Hugh was drunk.

You didn’t know how much he’d had at the Garrison, but he’d been pounding the wine back at dinner, nearly drinking an entire bottle alone, and hardly touching his food. Now, he jerkily steered you around the crowded space, his grasp on your hand so tight it was nearly painful. Where was Beulah? Maybe you could excuse yourself to check in on her—

“I’m cutting in.”  

Your eyes darted gratefully to Tommy as he grasped Hugh’s jacket, forcing the man to stop.

“What?” Hugh asked, face reddening in irritation.

“I said,” Tommy stepped closer, “I’m cutting in. I want to dance with my wife, if you don’t mind.”

If you don’t mind. It was tactful, almost genius. It put the ball in Hugh’s court. The polite thing to do would be to acquiesce; if he didn’t, the phrasing and his refusal to let go would seem absolutely ridiculous. You felt Hugh glance between you and Tommy before he reluctantly passed you into Tommy’s hands.

“Thank you for the dance,” You added over your shoulder before Tommy steered you to the other side of the dance floor. You sighed softly, resting your forehead against Tommy’s shoulder. “Your timing was superb.”

Tommy hummed knowingly, swaying you slowly as Arthur switched the record over.

“Are you alright?” He asked, sweeping his thumb over the side of your hand.

“I am now,” You murmured, lifting your head to look at Tommy. He nodded, gaze sweeping your face. His nose brushed gently against yours, his eyes flitting to your lips, and lingering. You swiped your tongue along your lower lip, stomach fluttering as Tommy pressed his lips to yours. You felt the swaying slow, then stop as Tommy’s arm curled around your waist, drawing you into his chest. You gently lifted your hand from his shoulder, resting on his nape. You had barely kissed him on your wedding day. This was sweet in a way that you’d never known from Tommy—a way that you wanted to become more familiar with.

The hoots and whoops from Lewis, Arthur, and John snapped you from the tender embrace, and you turned your head from Tommy, embarrassedly pressing your face into his neck.

“Alright, pipe down,” Tommy grumbled. When you managed to draw yourself from your nervous hiding place, you found Polly and Pearl sharing a smile.

--

“…What are you doing in here?”

The question flew out of your mouth, coated in your surprise, and you could see the swell of Tommy’s amusement as he closed your bedroom door behind himself.

“Hugh is in my room,” He informed you. Oh—Lord above. You nodded a little. Of course. How hadn’t you thought of that?

“I see,” You muttered. Tommy hummed, pushing off from the door and walking deeper inside. You watched him take in the furnishings, his gaze sweeping the armchair and bookshelf, the small reading table, the nightstand…And the bed. You raised your hand, scrubbing at the back of your neck.

It was going to be alright, you told yourself. You’d slept with Tommy—you’d been asleep with Tommy—before, just a few weeks ago. That had been a comfortable enough experience, so…So this would be more than alright. You were certain of it.

“I’ll just,” You gestured toward the divider in the corner of the room, “I’ll go change.” You skirted around it before Tommy could argue, or offer to be the one to change behind it. You plucked up your pajamas and stepped behind the divider, scrubbing your hands over your heated face once you were out of his line of vision. How did this man still make you so nervous?

“...It was a lovely evening.” Tommy’s insistence floated over the divider to you, prompting you to snap into action.

“Yes, it was,” You answered, words slightly muffled as you drew your dress up and over your head. You hung it over the silk folding screen, reaching for the fastenings on your brassiere and corset. “I’ll have to give the cook an excellent recommendation. Dinner was superb.”

“Yes.”

You drew off your thigh-highs, hanging them on the screen by your dress. You pulled on your nightdress, smoothing your hands over the cool, sky-blue fabric before putting on the matching robe.

“…May I come out?” You asked, damning your nerves.

“Of course.”

You stepped around the screen, surprised to find Tommy in bed already. He had the manuscript that had been on your bedside table in hand.

“You’re making progress,” He commented, flipping through a few pages, skimming a few of your corrections and notes.

“I was. Things got a little…Held up with the Blake’s visit,” You admitted. You’d hardly touched the manuscript in the last couple of weeks. You walked over to the basin, trying to ignore the feeling of Tommy’s gaze following you.

“…Is that new?” He asked.

“Hm?” You looked at them, finding his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. The interest in his gaze warmed you, and you hurriedly looked away again as his eyes swept upward. “Oh, the—This? No.”

“Had it long?”

“A few months.” It was another outfit that you’d gotten for your honeymoon months ago—one that Tommy would never had had a reason to see before.

“Will you be reading before bed?” Tommy asked.

“I think not. It’s been a long day.”

The stress was beginning to drain from your system, making you feel the full weight of your fatigue. You were almost certain that you’d fall asleep the second your head hit the pillow. You washed your face quickly, listening to Tommy turn the pages of the manuscript every few moments. When you finished, you dried your hands and turned back to the bed.

“Would you like to leave that light on?” You asked, nodding toward the lamp on the bedside table as you shrugged your robe off, hanging it up on the bed post.

“I can do without it, unless you’d like it on.”

“No! I’m alright,” You chirped as you climbed into bed, tugging the covers up. Tommy set the manuscript aside, shutting the light off before he settled down in bed beside you. You could feel his legs brush against yours as you the two of you laid on your sides facing one another.

“…Hugh’s a live one, isn’t he,” Tommy commented.

“He hasn’t been told no much before.”

“That became quite clear.”

You shivered at the thread of steel in Tommy’s tone. You reached out, tracing a finger gently along the back of his hand.

“Thank you again,” You added, “For stepping in when you did.”

“I told you,” Tommy turned his hand over beneath yours. “If I ever find out another man touched you, I’ll give you his hands.”

You huffed a soft laugh through your nose.

“May put a bit of a damper on your contract with his father.”

“Though they’d make an excellent trophy above the mantle.”

“That’s vile,” You giggled, smile widening as Tommy’s hand wrapped around yours. You were quiet for a few moments, reveling in the heat of his palm against yours. “…I don’t suppose I’m afforded the same opportunity?” You added.

“What do you mean?”

“Whose hands would I get to take as a trophy?”

Tommy met the statement with silence, and it made you want to sink into the bed. You’d been joking—

“There’s been no one,” He finally said. The admission made your heart stutter in your chest.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s been no one,” He repeated.

“But…Lizzie—”

“Not for months.”

Months. When had it stopped? And—

“Why?” You asked, shaking your head in disbelief. Tommy raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. He pressed another to your forearm, then shifted closer, lips brushing against your shoulder. He turned his head, and your eyes fluttered closed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Tommy—” You breathed, but you were unable to get another word out as his lips covered yours. You sighed against his lips, raising your other hand to smooth over the close crop of his undercut. He let go of your hand just long enough to grasp your nightdress, using his hold on the fabric to draw you closer, then steer himself up over you. You let your thighs splay as he slotted between them, pressing his bare chest against you, hips flush and grinding against yours. His kisses trailed lower, hands grasping covetously at the fabric covering your chest. He gave the lace a yank, and you hissed softly as you heard it rip.

“Tommy—Oh,” Your mouth fell open as he drew one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, “Damnit—I liked this nightdress.”

Tommy lifted his head, lips brushing your chin. “I’ll get you others,” He grumbled against you, “I’ll buy you a hundred more tomorrow.” His hand slipped between your legs, and you gasped as his fingers brushed against your pussy. You tipped your hips up into his touch pleadingly, lowering your chin and finding his lips with yours.

“I want you bare,” He murmured against your lips.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

“No.”

The answer made you go still, embarrassment and nerves flipping your stomach. Tommy took your face in his hands, holding your gaze steadily with his.

“I’m going to make love to my wife.”

--

His palm pressed heavily over your mouth, muffling your moans as his cock stretched your needy core. You pressed your head back into the pillows, curling your arms around his shoulders, and your legs around the backs of his.

“Sssh,” He murmured, the push of the hush brushing against your ear. “We don’t want the Blakes hearing, do we?”

You managed to shake your head a little, blinking up at Tommy as you panted broadly against his palm. Your cunt throbbed around his cock as he fully sheathed himself in you. You reached up, tugging Tommy’s hand away and catching his lips in a kiss. His fingers intertwined with yours, raising your joined hands to rest on the pillow beside you. He rolled his hips gently, then again as you whimpered, swirling his tongue with yours. Tommy fucked you with slow, even strokes, trading slow kisses as you moaned and panted into one another’s mouths.

Tommy broke your kiss, pressing his face into your neck as his thrusts became harder. You gasped, sinking your nails into his shoulders as you let your eyes slide closed. The bed was beginning to creak with his movements, the slapping of your hips slightly muffled beneath the sheets. You felt the familiar curling sensation beneath your waist, and you slid a hand down, grasping Tommy’s behind and using the grip to urge him on. He drew back just enough to get a good look at you, his eyes bright in the dim room. You sucked in a stunned breath as he reached between your legs, fingers teasing your clit as his hips pounded yours more roughly.

Your eyes widened as the headboard whacked against the wall behind you.

“Tommy,” You chastised, “Hugh will hear—”

“Let him,” Tommy spat, “Let him hear how I take care of my wife.”

You bit your lip to quiet your moans, grasping his wrist and stilling it as his touch tipped you over the edge. Your hips bounded up against his, chased by the harsh slamming of his hips, and the heat of him spilling into you. The scrape and squeak of the bed quieted as Tommy braced himself over you, looking down at your sweat-sheened body. He leaned down, brushing his lips over your breasts, then up, over your neck. You closed your eyes, curling your arm around his shoulder and resting your hand on the nape of his neck. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the pounding of his heart against yours. You turned your head, nuzzling his hair and pressing a kiss to his head.

“…Think that dresser has enough room for my things, too?” He mumbled. You grinned, tightening your grip on him as his hand tenderly smoothed along your thigh.

“It certainly does.”

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[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Monthly Cuddles ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC) gets her period and tries to make the most out of the day with her man by her side.

Warning: Hefty flirting & talks of smut!

Out of nowhere, I feel a sharp pain in my stomach.

I quietly hiss and sit up, doing my best not to wake up Josh, who's laid next to me peacefully sleeping.

I look over and tap my phone so it reveals my lock screen.

4:06 in the morning.

Seriously?!

Thinking it's maybe just gas, I slowly and carefully wiggle out of his arms and head to the bathroom.

I slide down my underwear and see blood on a pad that I put on last night, since I started feeling some heavy cramps after dinner.

Fuck!

I groan, wrap it in toilet paper, discard it, and reach over to the counter to replace it with a new one.

After about a minute or so, I feel light footsteps and a knock at the door.

"Baby? You alright in there?" Josh calls.

Ugh he's so sweet. Always checking up on me. <3

I smile softly. "Y-yeah baby I'm alright. Go back to bed."

"You sure ma? You need anything?" he reassures.

"I'm good baby," I reply. "I pinky promise."

I hear a light chuckle behind the door. "Alright baby I'll be in bed if you need me."

I softly smile and finish up before washing my hands and leaving the bathroom. 

"Everything alright?" he asks, as I climb back into bed.

I nod. "Just my period."

"Ah damn," he says after groaning.

I softly smile. "I know. Luckily I only get it for like 3-4 days so I'll live."

He smiles and opens his arms so I can lay in them, and that I do.

I kiss his tattooed chest before laying my head on it, and my arms around his waist.

He lays his arm around me, just above my ass, and rubs my back.

"So baby I..." I begin, but I'm cut off by him snoring.

I quietly giggle and lightly kiss his bottom lip, before wrapping us up in the blanket and drifting off to sleep myself.

—————————————————————————————————

I wake up to the sun peeking behind our bedroom curtains and reach over to look at the time on my lock screen.

10:07 in the morning.

Much better.

The faint smell of cinnamon fills the air and I softly smile.

"Always cooking," I mutter to myself, before heading to the bathroom for a quick refresh.

I end up taking a quick shower and changing into some comfy clothes.

I tie my hair up into a messy bun and leave the bathroom, automatically met with the sight of my man setting up a mini table with food.

I smile and walk over, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind. "Baby you didn't have to do this."

He turns around smiling and cups my face. "I wanted to mama. Now get yo cute lil ass in bed and eat something so you can take medicine."

I playfully roll my eyes and reach up, puckering my lips.

He chuckles and accepts, pressing his lips on mine.

I pull away making a "mwuah" sound and climb into bed after he playfully smacks my butt.

"Cinnamon sugar oatmeal, a couple of Aleve, and some orange juice to drink with the pills," he says, putting everything on the table in front of me once I get comfy.

I smile and kiss his cheek. "This looks yummy. Thank you baby."

He smiles and strokes my cheek. "I'm gonna head downstairs to the garage for a workout. Call me if you need me, okay?"

I nod and start eating.

He smiles and watches for a bit before heading out of the room.

Soon enough, I get a notification that he went live on Instagram.

I open the app, tap his profile picture, and watch.

My bottom lip slides between my teeth, as sweat drips down his caramel tattooed skin and his shorts get higher and higher with every lift.

Lord give me strength. I'm so fucking lucky.

About 40-45 minutes later, he ends the live.

Shortly after, I hear footsteps coming upstairs and towards the bedroom.

He comes in and I look up from my phone and smile.

"Hey baby," he coos, wiping his forehead with a towel.

"Hi sexy fella," I reply. "I watched your live."

He smirks, walks over, and runs his hands up and down my sides. "Oh yeah? Did you like what you saw?"

I bite my lip and blush. "You know I did."

He leans down and presses his lips to mine.

I moan in his mouth as he slides tongue across mine.

After about ten strokes, I pull away. "Boy I'm bleeding like all hell. At least tease me when we're able to fuck again!"

He bursts into laughter. "Well baby we can fuck whenever you want, bleeding or not. Just say the words."

My mouth drops open as he kisses my forehead and walks off into the bathroom.

Before I can speak another word, I get a FaceTime from Trin. I smile and tap the green button.

G: Hey sis!

T: Hey lovebug! How are you?

G: I'm alright. Trying to survive off these damn period cramps. You?

T: Ughhh girl I feel you I just finished mine. But hey, at least we ain't pregnant right?!

I burst into laughter and nod.

G: You have a point there ma'am!

She giggles and sets me up on her vanity, and starts on her makeup.

G: Oooh girl you look good! What are you up to today?

T: Well, I have a nail appointment for Jon and I's date tonight. You should join me!

G: Oooh that sounds fun. My nails could use a bit of a touch-up.

She squeals and claps her hands.

T: Period! My appointment is at 4:30 - I'll call and make you one as well.

G: Sounds good, sis. I'll see you then!

We say our goodbyes and hang up.

—————————————————————————————————

It's about 3:45 now - just over half an hour until I have to meet Trin at the salon, so I start getting ready.

I pick out a cute tube top and sweatpants set, as well as some fluffy sides.

"Where you going lookin that fine?" Josh asks from the island, as I walk downstairs.

I playfully roll my eyes and smile, walking up to him and wrapping my arms around his neck. "Getting my nails done with Trin. I won't be too long since she has a date with Jon tonight."

He nods and caresses my waist and ass. "Alright mama. I'll see you when you get home. Be safe, okay?"

"I will," I reply. "I love you."

"I love you more," he replies. "Have fun."

We share a kiss and I head out then drive to the salon.

—————————————————————————————————

"Sooo," Trin begins, looking over at me from her table. "How are you and my brother in law?"

I smile and look over at her. "We're doing good! He treats me like a princess. I love him so much."

She sticks out her bottom lip. "I'm so happy for you, babygirl. You deserve it.”

I reach out and join our free hands.

"Just know that if he messes with you I'll whoop his ass," she continues, mouthing "ass".

I giggle and nod. "Of course, Trin. How are you and his goofball brother?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "Girl, he's a trip. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

I smile and turn back to my nail tech.

As we keep talking, the appointment rolls on and soon enough, our nails are finished.

I got a basic french tip and Trin got the same but with blue.

FATU replied to your story: Come home to yo man so I can feel these in my hair 😩😍

I smile and shake my head, before driving home.

—————————————————————————————————

"Honey I'm hoooome!" I sing, walking through the front door and closing it behind me.

"Welcome hoooome!" Josh mocks me, before walking over and holding my waist.

I giggle and we share a lengthy kiss before sitting on the couch.

He kisses my hand and wraps an arm around me. "How was your time with Trin?"

I smile. "Lots of fun as always. I love her so much."

He smiles and strokes my cheek. "I'm glad, baby. Seeing you happy with my family brings joy to my heart."

I smile and kiss his cheek before he lays his head on my lap.

"Whatchu wanna do for dinner?" he asks, rubbing my side.

I think for a minute.

"We caaaaaan order waffle house?" I suggest, playing with his curls.

His excitedly sits up. "I gotta wife you up one day."

I giggle and kiss his cheek. "I'll put the order in. Two waffles and triple scattered and covered hash browns right?"

He kisses my shoulder. "You already know mama."

I smile and tap away at my phone while he moves me over and sits me on his lap.

"Whatchu getting?" he asks between kisses to my temple.

"Mmm," I reply with my lips puckered and to the side while thinking. "Maybe the cheesesteak hash brown bowl."

"Oooo that sounds good," he coos, still kissing me.

I look over at him and giggle. "I've never seen a man so excited for some damn waffles."

He shrugs, smiling. "Aye you know me boo!"

I roll my eyes playfully and grab the side of his face, backing up my neck to kiss his cheek.

He smiles and wraps his arms around my waist, rubbing my stomach. "How are your cramps mama?"

"Not too bad anymore," I reply, hitting order. "The pills definitely helped earlier."

He nods and I place my phone down, turn around, and get comfy against his chest.

He chuckles and lifts up my chin gently before placing his dreamy lips on mine.

—————————————————————————————————

** Josh's POV **

Gi and I finished dinner a little while ago.

That shit was too damn good.

We took a shower right after and are now laid in bed, my head in her lap, her fresh nails in my hair, watching her favorite Disney movie: Tangled.

Once I feel her stop scratching, I look up.

I chuckle lightly as I see her head tilted to the side against the pillow, light snores coming out of her parted lips.

I turn off the movie, carefully move to the side of her, and wrap her in my arms.

She stirs in her sleep and wraps her arms around my waist and lays her head on my chest.

I smile and gently kiss her temple. "Goodnight beautiful."

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[winchesterwild78]

Always Protected

I’ve got requests- ignore them if you want, but I had to try.

If you could I’d like (all plus sized/curvy reader):

Beau Arlen- meets reader in town, takes her out, maybe dancing, I picture him to be super protective if someone says something to her about her size. LOVES him some thick girl

*This is for you 😁 I hope I bring your vision to life. Thank you for trusting me with a request!!*

Characters:Beau Arlen x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Language, insecurities, physical violence, Fluff,

A/N: This is my 2nd request and I’m so excited to write it. I wrote it fast so please forgive any mistakes. This does not follow The Big Sky story line. I’m working on these requests fast because I’m inspired. 😁

All work is my own, don’t take it!!

Minors DNI 18+

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

“Come on Beau, you’ve got to get some food. You’ve been here all night and all day. When was the last time you actually slept?” Jenny asked. “I think yesterday afternoon I fell asleep at my desk. Jenny I have to get this solved. It’s driving me crazy. I’m missing something I know I am.” He grunted as he stood. “Go get something to eat. It will help clear your head. Get it to go if you want to. Just please go. We need our sheriff in too shape.” She pleaded. “Okay Hoyt. I’m getting it to go. I’ll be back. Want anything?” He asked as he grabbed his jacket. “Nope. I’m good thanks” she smiled.

Beau got in his truck and drove into town. He had to park further away from the diner because it was lunch time. As he walked down the street greeting people he smelled something amazing. There in the once vacant shop was a new bakery. How did he not know a bakery was opening. The smell coming from inside was drawing him in. He pushed open the door.

You were busy with a customer when you heard the bell chime above the door. “Welcome in. Please take a look around and I’ll be right with you.” You said without looking at the person who came in. You finished with the customer you were helping and noticed a very tall man standing with his back to you. He was looking at the dessert case on the opposite wall. You came around the counter and approached him. “Hello. Welcome in is there anything you’re looking for specifically today” you asked him.

He turned around and oh lord this man was gorgeous. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green and wow was he beautiful. You swallowed hard and shifted a little bit. “Oh I was walking by and smelled something amazing coming from in here and had to stop by.” His voice was like smooth whiskey.

You smiled and said “oh it could be the pecan pie I have in the oven.”

Beau’s eyes went wide. “You have pecan pie too? I’m from Texas and we love our pecan pie.” Beau said. “Yep I sure do. It has to cool but I can save you some if you want.” You smiled. “Yes. That will be perfect. I’m going to grab some lunch and I’ll come back later if that’s okay.” He said.

“Yep. Sounds great. I’ll save you some” you smiled. He nodded and smiled and headed towards the door. He stopped and turned around looking at you again and smiled. You blushed and started helping the next customer.

Beau walked over to the diner with a smile on his face. He couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you were. Your smile, your y/e/c eyes, your curvy body, and your kindness. He knew you were new in town and he wanted to know more about you.

He decided to eat at the diner and while he was there he chatted with some of the people there. “Hey Sheriff Arlen, how are you today” Ms Carol asked from behind the counter. “I’m good. How are you doing” he smiled. “I’m good honey. I’m thankful for Miss Y/N next door at the bakery. She’s been helping us out with our desserts recently. I can’t keep up with the desserts like I used to and she offered to help us out. She’s a sweet girl. She won’t take any money either. She just swings by for some lunch when she gets a chance.” She told Beau.

Beau smiled. Wow she really is sweet he thought. “That’s really nice Ms Carol. I’m glad you’ve got some help.” He said. The bell above the door rang and you walked in. “Hey Ms Carol. Here’s your pies and some cookies for Mr John. I hope he gets to feeling better.” You said as you handed her the food. “Oh Y/N you are such a sweetheart. Thank you and I know John will love these.” She hugged you.

You looked over and saw Beau sitting at the counter. You smiled at him and he smiled at you. He extended his hand “we didn’t get properly introduced, I’m Beau Arlen. I’m the temporary Sheriff here.” “Hello Mr Arlen, Sheriff, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to officially meet you. Well I need to get back. Don’t forget to come by and get your pie.” You smiled. “No ma’am I won’t forget.” He smiled.

You nodded and said goodbye and left. Ms Carol was watching and smiled at Beau. “Beau, you know she’s single, right? Maybe you two could go out to dinner or something fun. You both deserve it.” She winked. Beau smiled and nodded. “Maybe Ms Carol. Maybe.”

He got up, paid his tab and headed back towards your bakery. He walked in and the sweet smell of the shop filled his nose. The place smelled like home. His mother loved to bake and the smell was bringing back sweet memories of her. You were stocking the case when he came back in and you greeted him with a smile.

“Welcome back Sheriff. I have your pie right here.” You handed him a full pie. “Please call me Beau, and you didn’t have to save the whole pie. Thank you Y/N.” “It’s my pleasure, Beau. The sheriff deserves his own pie. Especially a Texas boy.” You smiled and winked. “How much do I owe you Y/N?” He pulled out his wallet. “Nothing. This one is on the house” you told him. “What?! No, I can’t let you do that. Please let me pay for it.” He pleaded. You stood firm and shook your head no.

Beau knew it was a losing battle. “Well, then let me take you out to dinner as a thank you.” He said. You stood there with your words caught in your throat. “What do you say Y/N? Let me take you out tonight” he said. “Okay sure. I close at 6 so let me go home and change and you can pick me up at 7:30 or I can meet you there.” You said. Beau moved closer to you “I’ll pick you up and it’s a date.”

You bit your lip and smiled. A date?!? This gorgeous man was asking you out?!?

The rest of the day flew by and it was time to lock up and head home. You got home and got in the shower. You had no idea where he was taking you so you wanted to dress comfortable but nice. You decided to wear a pair of your favorite jeans that hugged every curve of your body perfectly, a nice top that showed off your cleavage just enough and a pair of boots that had a little heel. You put on a little makeup and your hair was half up and half down.

You took a step back looking in the mirror. You always had problems with your body. You carried a little more weight than you should and you were curvy. Most of your clothes hid your body well. The outfit you picked did just that. You liked Beau. You were just worried if he could like you, curves and all.

There was a knock at your door. You took a deep breath and opened it to see Beau standing on your porch. He was dressed in a pair of jeans, a button down shirt and a pair of worn cowboy boots. The wind shifted and you smelled his cologne. It was heavenly. “Hello Beau. Come on in. I’m almost ready.” You stepped to the side. He walked in and sat on the couch.

You finished getting ready and as you walked into the living room he stood and stared. “You’re absolutely beautiful Y/N. Wow!” He said and you blushed. “Thank you, Beau. You look very handsome tonight.” You smiled.

He guided you outside by the small of your back and opened the truck door for you. You climbed in and smiled. He got in and started the truck. “So where are we going” you asked. “I’m taking you to a restaurant a town over. Great food and music.” He smiled. You nodded.

He reached his hand over and took yours. “Is this okay” he questioned. You smiled “more than okay.” The drive to the restaurant was good. The two of you talked about life and how both of you ended up in Montana. You thought it was sweet he moved there to be closer to his daughter.

When you arrived at the restaurant Beau got out and came around opening your door. He offered you his hand helping you out of the truck. As you got out you lost your balance and started to fall. Beau caught you and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you. He didn’t and you were a little disappointed.

As the two of you walked into the restaurant hand in hand a group of drunk men came out. They took one look at you and Beau and started talking about your weight and one of them went so far as to moo at you. You tried to ignore it but they kept going.

Beau stopped walking. “What the hell is y’all’s problem” he seethed. “No problem at all. How do you fuck her? Slap the leg and ride the wave?” The taller man said. Beau let go of your hand and stepped in front of you and between you and the men.

“You need to shut your mouth and leave before I shut it for you.” Beau growled. “Beau, come on. Let’s go. It’s okay. Please” you begged him as tears pricked your eyes. He turned and looked at you. His face was angry but softened when he looked at you. “It’s not okay. Nobody should ever speak to you like that.” He said.

“Beau, I’m used to it. I just want to go inside.” You told him. He nodded and smiled. Beau put his hand at the small of your back and led you inside. The two of you sat down and ordered your food. While you were waiting on the food the two of you talked more and got to know each other better. The food came and a comfortable silence fell between you two.

You excused yourself and went to the restroom. You steadied your breath. Beau was amazing and you could see yourself falling for him. You were scared though. How could he be with someone like you, and would he want to. Screw it you thought. He asked you out so that’s something. Throw caution to the wind you thought.

On your way back to the table a man that had been at the bar stepped in front of you. “Where you off to in such a hurry there princess” his alcohol smelling breath engulfed you. “Excuse me. I’m heading back to my boyfriend.” You said as you nodded towards Beau. “That string bean is your boyfriend? Honey a big girl like you needs a real man.” He said as he grabbed your arm.

You screamed for him to get off you and this caught Beau’s attention. Before you could process what was happening Beau was by your side pulling you to safety. The man had about 2-3 inches on him but Beau stood his ground. “Keep your hands off the lady” he growled. “Oh come on man I’m just trying to show her what a big girl like her really needs” he said laughing. Beau stood in between you two now. “I said back off. Don’t make me tell you again.” Beau said.

The man grabbed your arm again and pulled you hard causing you to yelp in pain. Beau knocked the guy flat on his ass and pulled you into his arms. “Are you okay darlin” he asked. Tears were streaming down your face and you shook your head no.

Beau paid the tab and helped you outside. You climbed in the truck and he held you as you cried. “I’m sorry Beau. I’m sorry you had to defend me because of my size. I’m sorry the man grabbed me. I understand if you don’t want to see me again.” You sobbed.

“Oh sweetheart. You have nothing to be sorry for. That man was a jackass and he had no right talking to you like that or putting his hands on you. I love the way you look. You’re so beautiful to me. I’m sorry people don’t see how beautiful you are. Inside and out.” Beau wiped away the tears from your face.

He leaned over and kissed your lips softly. When he pulled away he looked at you. “Was that okay” he asked. “More than okay, Beau. It was amazing.” You whispered. “Good because I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you this morning and if you’re okay with it I’m going to do it again.” You smiled and nodded.

This time the kiss was deeper and passionate. Oh the way he kissed you set your soul on fire. He started the truck to drive home and he held your hand again. You knew Beau Arlen was going to be one of the best things in your life. You knew he was going to protect you, defend you and love you. You knew with him your heart would always be protected.

Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92 @suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 @manicjk

[electricbathsalt]

I saw a recent post on r/bokunoheroacademia about “how can you possibly feel bad for Chisaki” and like…it’s not the “how can you feel bad for child abuser” itself that boggs me, but rather how people in comments repeat over and over “oh boss was so kind to him tried to guide him but he still became a poss he was evil from birth” and I’m like where are people who can look above the “what text says” level of understanding

Oh my lords, that’s my least favorite type of Chisaki hater. Like fuck dude you can dislike a character, but 1: do you have to police everyone who does like them, and 2: you clearly didn’t care enough to actually understand his character and story before you decided that there’s no reason to like him/have empathy for him.

What I hate most is not people disliking Chisaki. I don’t really care about that. I hate people who clearly don’t understand the character they’re slandering. If you’re going to publicly complain about a character, please do it while having an actual clue of what the fuck you’re talking about.

“Pops was so kind to him and constantly tried to steer him down the right path!!” Pops was a fucking Yakuza leader who never called Chisaki by his given name once in his life. Meanwhile, we don’t even know Pops’ real name because Chisaki never failed to call him either “Pops” or “Boss”. The “constant steering down the right path” was just “hey, don’t do that violence, only the violence I want you to. Im gonna scold you”. Idk man, but if I had a kid who I picked up off the streets, I’d probably get them into therapy literally as soon as they’d had a drink of water, a good meal, and a full night’s rest. But Pops decided that wasn’t worthwhile even when the child started exhibiting blatantly concerning behavior. He decided slapping Chisaki on the wrist was the most effective method to get him mentally stable. Ah, yes, reprimanding; the best way to get rid of violent tendencies, self-worth issues, and attachment/abandonment issues in your traumatized child, who you are raising in the mafia. Flawless.

Saying Chisaki was “born evil” is actually so absurd that it kinda makes me wanna laugh. It goes completely against what the entire point of MHA is, or supposedly is. Just because his entire childhood wasn’t spoon-fed to you does not mean it was a good one that didn’t at all influence him into being the way he is. Even the absolute crumbs we get from canon don’t imply he had a “good” childhood. “Pops was so good to him, though—“ he was a yakuza leader who integrated the child he took off the streets into his gang, without ever doing anything to help resolve any of the trauma he went through (and inherently gave him more via being in the yakuza). He was disowned by his daughter, who he called a fool for having a rash reaction to her child killing her husband, and never bothered to reach out further to her. He put Eri in Chisaki’s care, knowing of Chisaki’s violent behavior. The only “positive” flashback we ever get of Chisaki & Pops’ relationship is when Chisaki got scolded, and then told “thank you for protecting the Hassaikai’s honor”. And something tells me that any “praise” Chisaki ever got from Pops was to do with the Hassaikai, esp considering Chisaki’s unnaturally-strong dedication to it. I’m tired of people pretending that Chisaki’s pure evil that prevailed over a sweet, innocent man. Chisaki wasn’t even the only one who experienced ill-treatment from Pops—his entire fucking family did.

The other thing is—Chisaki was literally doomed from the start. The only two people we get to know he was ever in the care of were both people who would inevitably turn Chisaki into a criminal/villain. Him being anything else was something that was never even allowed to grace his mind.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hey, I just read that other request I made, and I absolutely loved it. Thank you so much!

I've come with another request. It's a cursed female reader x gods. I especially want Poseidon, Hades, Adamas/Adamantine, Odin, Thor and Beelzebub (if you want to put some other god in the mix, feel free to). If possible, and if you want, you could make a whole drama about it.

Reader was a fighter chosen to fight Ragnarok for Humanity. She was known as a woman and a knight with unknown face (except for the Valkyries, she usually wears a helmet/mask), and who had gained the favor of Aphrodite (also knows your face), despite being cursed. She is going to fight one of the gods above, and she's extremely skilled with her weapons (two spears, two swords or a pair of each, you decide). She and the god are trying hard to not get themselves killed, to the point that her helmet/mask falls off, revealing her face, but she doesn't notice it and the god doesn't look at it (I guess a blade to your neck is good to diverge attention). Unfortunately, fight ends in a tie, no one dying.

The god, for some reason, goes after reader (IDK, compliment her skill, ask for a rematch or something), only to discover that everyone is looking for her (Gods, Demon, Humans, Einhejar, everybody, man and woman). The god doesn't understand it and goes to look for either the Valkyries or Aphrodite to ask where reader was and why everyone is after her, and they ask if he hadn't look at her. They could ask what about her face or say they didn't care about it, so they tell god where to find her. God finds her and she tried to run away, much he doesn't allow, and god tells the reason they came after her, which surprises reader, asking if he hadn't come because of the curse. He doesn't understand it and asks why everyone was after her.

Reader explains that she received a blessing from Aphrodite after helping her with something. She couldn't find a partner in life since no man wanted a woman stronger than them, so she gave a blessing that any men or women would fall in love with her. It was meant to help, but the fiancee of her best friend and lord fell in love with her, which prompted her execution for betraying him. This remained with her after death, and it affects even gods, and Aphrodite couldn't take it away, so it would either be with her forever or until she finds a partner, which she doesn't want anymore, given all she's been through.

I want the gods' reaction for the "Search of Reader", they learning of your story and how they felt about you (more like about the whole situation). I would also want their reaction after reader and them become friends (god starts to feel something more), and their reaction to reader's showing their face to them, and maybe some comment that they would usually do mixed with a flirt? (Something like: "No wonder everyone falls in love with you.")

Reader is actually very beautiful (for humans standards), so it wasn't her beauty that got in the way of her love life, it was her "job" as a knight. She's usually quiet, speaks very little, and doesn't speak at all in combat, after her traumatizing death. She's is more relaxed when she's with her friends, talking a bit more, not using her helmet/mask (sure no one she's not close to will come up to them), showing a bit more of emotion, but is her past self with god (after they become close), talking, smiling, laughing more, and talking passionately about her interests and her stories with her knight companions in life.

Ob.: Valkyries, Aphrodite and reader's friend weren't affected because they already loved her, as a friend, so they were immune to the curse.

Sorry, for asking another one so soon, but this one poped up in my head, and wouldn't let me sleep 😅😂🤣

-You were a skilled battle maiden, skilled with set of short spears, to the point where none could fight you and give you what you wanted, a challenge.

-Many knew of your combat skills and found you to be a very respectable person, even some of the gods admired you, but there was one strange thing about you, you never exited your home without your helmet, refusing to show yourself in public.

-Many had questioned it in the past, and you always gave the same answer, “I’m not comfortable doing so.” And most were pretty understandable, but others weren’t, as your figure was stunningly gorgeous, toned and curved in all the right places, your face must be just as beautiful!

-Those who did know, the Valkyries and Aphrodite, about the real reason you hide away, weren’t affected by this curse that was ‘blessed’ upon you so long ago.

-You had helped Aphrodite, finding a group of bandits who had raided one of her temples, and when she appeared before you, asking you what you wanted as a reward, you told her how men were intimidated being with you, as you were stronger than them all, and you wanted to be able to have a man fall in love with you for who you are!

-Aphrodite was young at the time, a bit naïve, and blessed you so that any man or woman who would lay eyes upon you would instantly fall in love!

-This however, was a bad thing, when your best friend, the lord you had proclaimed your life to, had his fiancée leave him for you, prompting your execution, not willing to listen to any of your excuses, damning you as a temptress.

-Once in Valhalla, after dealing with humans and gods hunting you down for your stunning beauty, having to hide out for what felt like years, you went to Aphrodite, begging her to remove the blessing.

-Initially offended, she demanded a reason until she saw it with her own eyes, how you were being chased and hounded by men and women, desiring you for their own. She was remorseful, offering her most sincere apologies, but was unable to remove the blessing, much to your dismay.

-She went with you to see the valkyries, who weren’t affected, as they saw you as a friend, the same as Aphrodite, and they were able to help hide you away, giving you a helmet and you were allowed to live freely, mostly- due to your helmet.

-You got battle strong opponents in Valhalla, having fun, getting what you wanted besides true love, powerful opponents to get a challenge.

-This biggest challenge came in the form of Ragnarok, and Brunnhilde didn’t even hesitate to ask you to fight, and you returned with no hesitation, accepting, as you were hoping to get the biggest challenge of your life!!

-Donning pure white armor with gold features, a gift from Aphrodite as, “You need to look your best!” you entered the arena, cheers ringing out all around you and many were stunned when Aphrodite cheered for you, “Do your best Y/N!”

-Many knew you were female, and with that, you opponent, (God), was quick to underestimate you, a lesson he quickly learned to regret as you proved that you were by no means a weak maiden, you were a warrior- a knight, one with a goal to defend humanity.

-(God) was stunned with your skills, you didn’t give him any chances to think or react, not giving him an inch, and he was quick to strike back, seeing that you were indeed a worthy opponent.

-You swiped upwards, catching his weapon as it hit your helmet hard, knocking off but neither you nor him cared, you were having way too much fun as you managed to leg sweep him as you took his weapon, holding it to his chin.

-The stadium was stunned silent, seeing that you drew one of the strongest gods in Valhalla to a draw, as it was announced as a draw. You were content, as you had never had such a battle before you heard voices shouting out your name.

-You turned in horror, eyes wide as you realized you were unmasked and you quickly took off running to the backstage area, unable to grab your helmet as it had been destroyed.

-You needed to find something to hide your face and find somewhere to hide as the valkyries were quick to start running interference, along with Aphrodite who commanded to golems to make a wall of the suitors now rushing to you.

-(God) looked around, confused as to why everyone seemed to be going bonkers, approaching your valkyrie partner, Goll, “What is going on?” she was shocked that he wasn’t affected, looking a bit apprehensive, “Didn’t you see Y/N’s face?” his question was a bit confused, “Yeah she was attractive for a human, but why is everyone chasing her.”

-Goll calmed, seeing that he wasn’t affected, and she gave him the short version, that if someone was to look at your face, they would fall instantly in love with you. Aphrodite and the valkyries weren’t affected because they all respected you as a friend.

-He lifted a hand to his lips, a soft hum leaving him, “Maybe that’s why I’m not affected. I never knew a human- let alone a woman, was going to give me such a challenge. I have to respect her for that. Do you know where she might be?”

-Goll shook her head, looking a bit upset, “No- usually when this happens she will run and hide until she can sneak home and lay low there until the effects of the curse wears off.”

-He stunned Goll by thanking her, before she beamed brightly and went to help her sisters and Aphrodite. He took her example and headed off to find you, only not as enthusiastically as the others chasing after you.

-(God) surprisingly was the first to find you, finding you in a quiet room sitting on the ground beside a couch, partially hidden from view and you instantly glared over at him, “I’m not interested!”

-He grinned lightly at your bite, “I am, where did you learn to fight?” his question stunned you and blinked, which made him grin only slightly before he took a seat away from you, giving you your space, something you appreciated.

-You could tell he wasn’t affected, because there were other strong gods out there who were acting like lunatics, but (God) was different, but that didn’t mean you trusted him.

-The two of you sat and just talked for a while, he learned a bit more about the curse you had been blessed with, he learned more about your past, that your romantic life took the back seat to your duty as a knight, showing him that you were honorable and hardworking, and all you wanted was someone to love you, naturally and not like how the idiots outside were acting.

-(God) learned you were quiet about yourself, only mentioning small details, unless if it was about your time as a knight, then your eyes were sparkling and bright, talking more and showing more of your bright smile and warm personality.

-Aphrodite busted in, holding a new helmet, “Y/N?!” she initially panicked, seeing (God) there until you stood, assuring her that for some reason, he was affected. Aphrodite was a bit curious about this as well, giving you your helmet as (God) explained, “I think it’s because I respect you as a warrior, and not just a woman.”

-This made sense and Aphrodite turned to (God), “Can I entrust my friend to you to get her home safely?” he was surprised to hear this, hearing the relationship you had with the goddess of beauty, but he agreed.

-Aphrodite told the two of you that she and the valkyries have all of the suitors running around on wild goose chases, giving you a clear path away from the arena, which you thanked her for, and you headed out.

-Once far enough away you lifted the guard, showing off a bit of your face as you walked with the sea god, “Thank you for doing this for me.” he looked aloof, glancing over before smirking softly, “It’s the duty of a king to protect the fair maiden, even if she can protect herself.” You quickly closed the face guard, your face blazing red which made him actually laugh, surprising you before you smiled gently, “You look really good when you smile.” If he was surprised by your compliment he didn’t show it as the two of you talked about random things, as he wanted to know more about your fighting style. Once at your home, he took your hand, as you had removed all your armor back at the arena, kissing the back of it, “Until next time, Y/N.” you were stunned by his reaction, luckily he couldn’t see your bright red face as he walked off.

-Poseidon, Beelzebub, and Odin

-You sighed softly once away from all the crowds and he grinned, “You must be tired from being so beautiful, right?” the sound you made was inhuman, which made him roar with laughter, thinking your shy reaction was adorable while you pouted lightly, “Don’t tease me like that!” but that just made him laugh even harder. You don’t remember the last time you had been complimented about your looks sincerely, not by someone under the effect of the curse, it felt rather nice. Once at your house you removed your helmet after he asked you too and your cheeks were still a bit red from his flirt and he smiled gently, “I wonder if the curse will break the more I fall for you.” Your face flushed red again and he grinned, before telling you he would come and find you later and you waved him off, in a slight daze about his words.

            -Hades and Adamas

-For the most part, the journey home was uneventful, you returned to your conversation about using dual weapons, as you had always done so, forgoing a shield in exchange for a second spear, which you had proved you could block with. A shout was then heard, “Y/N~ don’t run from me!!” you turned and saw a mob of people who had spotted you and you went to run before he picked you up princess style and quickly took off, sprinting away. You were able to lose the crowd as you made it to your house, hiding in the backyard and you removed your helmet, a sigh leaving you. He grinned down at you, “Why so red faced?” you twiddled your fingers together shyly, looking away from him, “It’s not often that something built like me gets carried like a princess.” He boomed with laughter which made you pout up at him before he surprised you by pecking your cheek and standing, “I’ll draw them away and come back later. See ya, Y/N.” you were stunned stiff, like a statue, in complete shock that he had kissed you.

            -Thor and Hercules

[arthursgun]

Son of A Gun, Chapter One (RDR2, Arthur Morgan x OC)

❝ 𝙃𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙪𝙣 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚'𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 ❞

Blurb: Maeve O'Connor had had enough. She worked tirelessly for her father on his ranch for her only thanks to be the 'opportunity' to marry a man she does not love. But everyone knows women can't find respectable work, so Maeve gives up on her dream of freedom until her wedding night, when a curious acquaintence man gives her the real opportunity she needs.

Author's Note: Hey gang. This is my first post EVER on Tumblr so please be nice. I started this piece on Wattpad like three months ago and havent finished it. It's based off "Son of a Gun" by Lord Huron and will most likely have short enough chapters and will be short enough in the long run. Also, English is not really my strong suit so there are going to be many mistakes.

Maeve is twenty, and Arthur is twenty-five. Based long before the events of Red Dead Redemption 2.

If you come across this please support your local lil writer!

EDIT: decided to proof read. don't think i mentioned it but maeve and her father are irish immigrants. lowkey left out vital info there

Tags: Arthur Morgan x OC, Rancher!OC, slow burn, strangers to lovers, i just wanna be a cowboy so bad, mentions of violence, cursing, NOT PROOF READ

SON OF A GUN

Word Count: 4367

Stars. You couldn't quite see them anywhere else like you could on the ranch, Maeve remarked to herself as she gazed at them. The sky was so dark the stars became almost blindingly bright and clear at night. During those few years Maeve had spent in cities, the smoke from factories and lights on the street obstructed her view of them, and it wasn't until her father purchased the ranch had she got a real good look at them. Every night, she clambered on the roof of the barn, the cattle sound asleep under her as she gazed at them. She drew constellations in her sketchbook and noted how they changed through the year, and when she spied a meteor, she'd make a wish. A wish to leave her mundane life, a wish for excitement. For something to happen in her life that wasn't cleaning out stables or moving cattle or ploughing fields. She longed for excitement.

And while granted, ranching life came with it's own twists and turns, they were nothing compared to the stories she'd read about, great warriors saving princesses or gunslingers out west drawing their arms on each other over a spilled drink. Maeve took the time on the barn roof to make her own stories, too, scribbling her ideas down in a hopes that could be her ticket out of her home. A career for herself. But she knew her fate had already been written out by her father, he was very clear on that. She would stay on the ranch, farming, until whenever a suitable bachelor showed up. Then she'd be tied to him in a loveless marriage and made work on his farm instead until she was too old and weak to work or carry more children for her husband. She loathed the word husband, the very idea of one, even more than the idea of being a wife. Despite the endless lectures from her step-mother, who delivered said speeches to both Maeve and her two younger half-sisters, Maeve never took to the idea of belonging to somebody else. The very thought made her shiver and her jaw clench in anger, for that was all she was raised to be since money got to her father's head. Thought himself an aristocrat or something now - a man of great honour, he'd say. Maeve could hear his voice echoing in her head almost constantly; he needed his grandchildren to be of noble blood like he was.

Pity his grandchildren would never see the state of the country Maeve was born in.

She stretched, feeling exhaustion pulling on her eyelids. The night was just like any other, a soft autumn breeze nipped at her rosy cheeks, the same breeze which dragged along the wispy clouds above her head. She knew there was no promise of rain tomorrow by the looks of the clouds, which warmed her heart. Tomorrow she was taking out a young mare she'd been training, Cara, this time planning to go as far as Rhodes, which would take nearly the whole day. The ranch was situated in the northern heartlands of New Hanover, near Twin Stick Pass, from which it got it's name. Twin Stick Ranch. It wasn't the biggest ranch even in the 5 states, granted, but the O'Connors overlooked four open livestock fields and two fields for crops, as well as their own stable company, seven cabins, three barns, sty, coop and house. It was a lot to maintain with only nine able-bodied workers, but they kept on their feet. Maeve overlooked the horses, hence why she was given the job of training the mare. Or rather, she gave the job to herself to gain some small snippets of freedom every now and again.

Maeve begun her descent through a trapdoor which opened on the roof with a ladder down to the loft. The loft was where they kept the feeds for the livestock and a stock of crops they used to feed themselves, which was now becoming quite a hefty amount now that winter was imminent. She was still in her work clothes - boots, jeans and all - as her step-mother was adamant she couldn't set foot in the barn with her white nightdress on. This actually suited Maeve down to the ground as it gave her an excuse to not return to the homestead after working and wander out to the barn instead. She tread carefully over through the barn as to not wake the livestock once she'd descended from the loft and headed outside, striding back towards the house. Judging by the moon, it must have been past midnight, but there was lights and laughter erupting from one of the ranch hand's cabins. Maeve smiled as she walked past, hearing the men taunt each other over what must have been a game of cards. She used to enjoy nights like that months prior before an engagement with one of the ranch hands ruined it all. It was just a stupid crush really, one amazing night spent with him, but whatever freedom she'd had to mingle with the ranch hands was erased the second her father found out. The ranch hand, merely five years her senior, was fired. He promised Maeve the world, but she knew that was all a lie to get her to do his bidding. She only looked on that time with fondness, though, as it was a hell of a lot more enjoyable than whatever life she was living now.

As she strolled back towards her own house, there were no lights, there never was. Though eight people resided in the home - Maeve, her father, step-mother, and her four half-siblings - there was seldom hearty laughter like what the ranch hands enjoyed. Her family looked on the house as a place of function, to eat and sleep in, but not as a home. She could remember a time when she lived in a house full of love and laughter, a home, back before she arrived in America. The memories swept through her mind every time she saw the house with no lights or no sign of life, and it only emphasised her loneliness. Once she reached the porch and skipped over the step which always obnoxiously creaked, she opened the door to the living room, feet falling on the bearskin rug which lay across the floorboards in front of the entrance. She shut the door without a sound, rounded the sofas and past the dining table, but didn't go as far as the kitchen. She turned to her left, now in a small hallway. The pantry and bathroom doors were down this hallway, as well as the stairs, which she tiptoed up, ignoring the photographs of their family her step-mother forced them to take every time she birthed another one of those devilish children. She found herself on the landing, and crept towards her bedroom door, which was the first on the left. Luckily for her, she had her own bedroom, something she had been able to argue for. Her two half brothers had to share, as did her two half sisters. The room was the smallest in the house. Her bed lay under the window against the wall opposite the door, an armoire beside the door and a vanity against the wall to the left. She also had a bookshelf filled to the brim, which neared the ceiling. That bookshelf was her prized possession and the only thing she would take with her from the house when she was married off. She begged her father for one for her twelfth birthday, and had sat there for over a decade, gathering all the books she read until she could fit no more. 

Morning came quickly once Maeve had shut her eyes, and before long, her father was trundling about the house. The clock on the wall told her it was 6am, which was their usual time to start the day. She busied herself getting dressed into her work jeans and plaid shirt and tying her jet black hair in a low plait behind her head before her step-mother could barge in and yell about how lazy Maeve was and how she needed to be up at once. She could already smell the porridge by the time she was ready, and carried her boots downstairs with her so she didn't 'damage' the rugs. Her half brothers, George and Scott, were at the dining table, not speaking a word to each other. The house was almost eerily quiet, although the people in it were busy getting ready for the day. Her half brothers were of working age at fourteen and twelve, but her stepmother was adamant they were her babies, so they couldnt work and must be educated instead. The idea made Maeve resent them, how she was denied schooling but was made to work, but they got off scot-free. She sat at the end of the table away from them, not exchanging pleasantries with anyone as she spooned the lumpy porridge in her mouth and forced herself to swallow it.

Her thoughts of resentment and daydreams of another life were interrupted by her father erupting into the room, frantically pulling on his suit blazer despite the fact his vest wasn't even buttoned and his gold pocket watch was halfway out of his pocket. 

"I am going to town," he announced, although nobody was really listening. He still held himself high and proud, smoothing the ends of his moustache in the mirror and running a hand over his pomade-covered salt and pepper hair, of which he didn't have much. "I'll be gone for most of the day. Young man," he placed his hands roughly on George's shoulders - "You are the man of the house until I return."

George didn't offer a smile or even looked at him, rather focused on a knot in the oak table and muttered a "Yes, sir." 

Daniel didn't even eat of a bite of breakfast, only quickly offered his wife a peck on the cheek and rushed out the door. Only then did Maeve's stepsisters arrive in the kitchen, still in their nightgowns and hair unbrushed. 

"Mother," one piped up as she slipped into a chair, waiting for her mother to serve a bowl to her.

"Yes?"

"What does father do in town?"

Maeve watched as her step-mother turned away from the cooker to look at her step sister. She watched as her features twitched, and a rage erupted behind her eyes. She took a laboured breath as she eyed the girl.

"Business, Bella," she answered, in a much calmer tone than what Maeve was expecting. "He attends to his business."

"Since father said I'm man of the house today, do I have business to attend to?" George asked, although he wasn't graced with an answer. Their mother simply turned around to pluck the porridge pot from the stove, before turning and spooning some into the girls' bowls. Maeve had long since finished her portion, but remained seated. She always enjoyed the entertainment from her family, it was like a drama show at the theatre, and she was always just another audience member, not even acknowledged by the actors even though she was on the stage. That was, unless, the actors finally had enough of working around her.

"Maeve!" her step-mother snapped, causing Maeve to take her attention from the little play unfolding before her and to look her step-mother in the eyes. "Do you not have somewhere to be?"

"That I do," Maeve responded, sending a small, sly smile toward her step-mother. "I would much rather be out there than in here, anyway."

She got up before her step-mother could utter a response, not that she would. Maeve's hat was hung up on the wall beside the door with all the coats. It was a diamond shape, pale brown, with a worn sage plaited rope around the brim to tell everyone it was hers. It was a gift from an old ranch hand, Randy, one of their first, who she knew when she was very young. He gave it to her on his last day, although she was never really sure why he left, he seemed so happy. As Maeve matured, though, she figured it was her father's doing, laying him off because of his age. He must've been dead, but sometimes she held out hope she'd see him again. Maeve descended the porch stairs, not bothering to skip the creaky step this time. Although it was still early in the morning, the heat from the sun was already sweltering, possibly the warmest morning they'd had all summer. She made her way to the stables, nodding hello to passing ranch hands who tipped their hats to her. She spied one of the younger ranch hands mounting a horse in the pen, her mare, the one she was taking out.

"You goin' somewhere?" Maeve inquired, and the ranch hand almost jumped out of his skin. He turned the horse around, met with the view of Maeve leaning against the fence with her elbows, quizzical look on her face.

"N-no, ma'am," he stuttered, eyes flitting to the grassy pasture beneath him. "Your father, he uh-"

"My father told you to get on my horse?" Maeve asked as she tilted her head to the side. She surveyed the mare, whose head was bowed, munching on grass. She was a calm one, and that was why Maeve took such a liking to her. She enjoyed lying out under the sun with her, watching her grazing on pasture while they took a break from her training. 

"Sorry, ma'am," the ranch hand mumbled, swinging a leg off the horse and landing on the dusty ground with a thud. 

"That's better, Harvey," Maeve smiled, patting the mare's neck. "I'm sure there's other horses 'round here that need a tending to, isn't there?"

Harvey swallowed, his gaze fixed on the ground so Maeve could only make out his chin under the brim of his hat. "S'pose."

Maeve watched as Harvey spun on his heel and walked away before turning back to the mare, a hand under her chin. "Let's get outta here, girl." 

Maeve mounted up, half thankful Harvey had tacked her up already, before kicking off down the dirt path towards the gate and out further into the wilderness, galloping onto the horizon.

The leaves had begun to change from their deep green to sunset orange and reds, and once Cara had galloped to Dewberry Creek, Maeve slowed her to a walk to admire the lush landscape and changing trees. She felt so free, out here, and no longer looked at the birds with envy as they flew by, because now she felt she could fly too. The air was almost cleaner, untouched by noise or cattle or straw. She never truly noticed how the farm had a scent until she left it. Maeve often thought of the farm as a whole other world from earth. 

She passed a man on his horse, who tipped his hat to the floor, not in greeting, but so she could not see his face. Maeve knew what he was instantly - an outlaw. They got many of his type in the countryside, near the farm. There were little to no lawmen out there, which half suited her father. Maeve was aware of the dealings going on at the farm, she'd overhear her father talking about shady business a fair deal. Maeve had to restrain herself from peering too much at the man as he went on by. From what she could make out, he donned a black denim sleeveless jacket, his black hat worn from years of use, jet black hair revealing itself as it burst from beneath the hat. The only colour on him was his shirt, which lay beneath his jacket in a stark contrast of baby blue and black. Maeve spied three guns on him, two pistols and a long arm slung over his shoulder, most likely a repeater by the looks of what she could see. She knew he had others hidden away though. He passed, and Maeve stole a glance his way - meeting his eye in a flitting moment. He'd been looking at her the whole time, or more likely her pistol, which sat snug in the black leather holster on her hips. That was her only weapon, though. He looked at her with more confidence than she looked at him with, his gaze lasting longer. 

Maeve felt no fear as they crossed ways. In fact she was in awe. How could someone so unlawful just be out here without fear? Was he not worried he'd be caught? Then again, Maeve knew he was probably used to this, and had probably been on the run for a long time. That's what happened when you joined gangs, you never left them. Maeve's stomach burned in jealousy, though she did not know why. She was safe on the farm, she was more sensible than to be jealous of the outlaw lifestyle. Maeve felt the outlaw's presence fade, although her thoughts remained of him. She wondered where he was going, where he came from. How many people he'd killed and his horse's name, if it had one and wasn't just one that was stolen. She was almost obsessive of him, or his life. He'd the muse in her next story.

The plot of the mysterious cowboy's life unfolded until Maeve rode into Rhodes, making mental notes. She hitched Cara outside the General Store, and bid her goodbye with a pat on her neck. Maeve internally scolded herself at her forgetting her sugar cubes in her satchel in the stable. She stepped up onto the porch in front of the store, ignoring the peers she received from the old man on the bench. People never kept their eyes and judging looks to themselves, but she had grown used to it. She pushed open the door, meeting the eye of the shopkeeper, who leaned on the counter with an elbow and watched as she approached him.

"Can I help you?" he inquired through a slow southern drawl. Maeve loathed him. She barely saw him once a month, whenever she was able to get down to Rhodes, but he gave off a feeling, he had an aura about him. The way he looked at her enfuriated her. She didn't bother smiling, just spoke.

"Horse medicine."

The man nodded towards the wall behind her. She turned her head to look around, eyes falling on the bottles. It wasn't there last time she'd been in the store, and she suddenly felt incredibly stupid. Her eyes scanned the shelf, a dozen yellow and green labelled bottles stared back. She tried to not let her expression falter as she stepped towards the shelf and reached for the bottle, fingers closing around the neck of the brand her father swore he'd never use.

"Your father's tab?" 

Maeve closed her eyes and drew a breath. She hated the idea that people knew who she was. She often wondered how, as there weren't many photographs of her lying about and she barely went to town with her father. Once her lungs were empty, her irritation subsided, and she turned to face him with a simple nod and a "Yeah." Her father wouldn't approve, but she took care of her horses. None of the cheap stuff.

She practically skipped out of the store.

She turned away from Cara, who was too busy staring at passers-by to notice Maeve at all, and strolled down the main street, or really the only street in the town. She knew exactly where she was going, and stopped just outside the sheriff's office. The bounty posters had changed since she'd last checked them. Maeve hurried to the board, studying the posters with great curiosity. Black Belle was there again, and a new name with a strange face, Marvin Kent. He didn't look like a Marvin Kent. He had a scratchy looking beard and a mean, sly smile, composed of hardly any healthy looking teeth. He was just generally unkept looking. Maeve brushed the poster aside, revealing another beneath, and her breath hitched. John Marston. The outlaw she'd passed on the way to Rhodes. She recognised the look in his face, his sharp jaw and young eyes. The bushy black hair which fell above his shoulders was just as thick and dark under the hat. She scanned the poster, he was only wanted alive. There was not a substantial bounty, and he had only committed theft. His fictional life seemed so much more interesting.

Maeve never actually went after these bounties, obviously, but liked looking at the photographs. They were different faces from the ones she saw every day in her family and the ranch hands. It let her have faces to imagine in her stories, too. Stories she intended to publish. To sell. To make enough money off of to live a comfortable life, far away from her 'family'. Her own life.

The door to the Sheriff's office swung open and a tall, burly, serious-looking man with a serious-looking moustache sauntered out. Smoke billowed from his pipe, and he let out a small cough from his smoke-filled lungs. Maeve felt like scrunching her face in disgust at the smell, but decided against being rude. He was the sheriff, after all, and himself and her father were on good terms. Keep your friends close, but enemies closer. That seemed to be her father's thing. Maeve looked away, opting to peer at Mr Marston again, but aware she couldn't overstay her welcome.

"Uh, missy?"

"Yes, sheriff?" she responded, not looking at him. "Just looking."

"Your father know you're out here? All alone?"

Maeve nodded. "'Course he does."

"Come into the station, missy, I'll take care o' ya."

Maeve turned on her heel and walked the opposite direction without another word. She heard him grumble to himself as she walked away, eyes on the road in front of her, not passing any heed on the six or so men who strode by on horseback, nor the fact their faces were covered by handkerchiefs, nor the fact they drew their guns right in front of the bank. She only really paid attention to them when they began yelling and burst through the bank door, causing a commotion among the dozen of citizens lounging about outside the General Store. Men and women ran out, down the stairs, hysterical. Maeve was barely a few meters away from Cara, who was beginning to feel distressed at the ruckus, but Maeve found herself drawn to the carnage. The men were huge with huge guns, the barrels of which were being brandished at everything that moved in the bank. Through the window panes, she spotted the men counting money, yelling, laughing. It was the thrill Maeve sought, not the money. Her feet were moving, and she was at the first step of the bank, much to the protests of the civilians and lawmen around her. Their pleas fell on deaf ears. She was perplexed.

Just as the sole of her boot met the wood of the step, the door burst open, and the men rushed out, their guns ablaze. Maeve didn't have time to react, and was grabbed harshly by a huge hand which was attached to a huge man. The deafening gunshots and screams ended simultaneously once she was grabbed. Maeve opened her eyes, which she'd shut out of fear, to find herself facing the lawmen and cowering citizens from the porch of the bank. She couldn't move. Maeve peered at the arm which held her. The forearm alone spanned shoulder to shoulder. To her right she could see her kidnapper's outstretched arm, clothed by a thick coat, a simple cattleman's revolver clutched in his fist. She could hear his breath and feel his heartbeat he was so close, pressed against her back. She was a hostage.

"Gentlemen, we appear to be stuck," a man's voice bellowed over the silence. It came from Maeve and the gang's side, but she didn't dare to move. Who knew what they wanted with her?

"Let her go," the sheriff shouted, his rifle aimed in her general direction.

The man chuckled. "Now why would we do that?"

"We will open fire."

Another chuckle. Maeve's heartbeat was so strong she almost couldn't hear the conversation over the blood rushing through her veins. If they opened fire, she'd surely be dead.

"You see, if you open fire..." a pause. Silence. "My good man here will also open fire."

The gun to the right of Maeve, which was clutched in her kidnapper's hand, slowly turned so the barrel was aimed at her temple. She didn't dare look, but could feel the cold iron ring against her skin. Suddenly, it all felt very real. This wasn't a story anymore.

"To hell with this!"

Gunfire. Maeve was thrown from the arms which had once captured her, now she was sprawling on the wooden floor. Her head hit the porch first, then her shoulder, with a sickening thud. All she could hear was a ringing, a high-pitched drone, and could barely make out whose legs who stood over her belonged to who. She was grabbed again, and dragged roughly to her feet.

"Grab her again! We need leverage!"

Thrown again, she was in cover now behind cover, her 'saviour' hunched down beside her, cowering behind the box, too.

"Dutch! This isn't how we do things," he pleaded, the youthfulness in his voice sounding very out of place in amongst the hustle of men. He turned to Maeve, he was speaking, yet she couldn't hear. All she could see were blue eyes peering at her over a black handkerchief which selfishly covered the lower half of his face. He yelled again, and she heard this time, behind all the profanities and gunfire.

"Run! Run, goddamnit, run!"

Maeve's legs moved before she knew what was happening. She turned and fled, lungs burning, tears welling in her eyes, a pain in her head, the ringing in her ears, the name. Dutch. Dutch, this isn't how we do things.

[crossyourheartspreparetodie]

Hey hey hey! It's my birthday soon if you can surprise me with a homely scenario with my favorite crackheads Allen, Nea and Tyki. Don't get me involved tho I'm only an observer 😁😁

Alright, so I'm not sure if I made it in time or not but Happy 24th birthday, belated or otherwise. I will apologize ahead of time for some things, it's been about three months since I last have written anything so thanks for the request. It made me realize how much I missed writing. Another note, there is some mention of Lavi x Tyki since for whatever reason that ship is burned into my brain lately? (Maybe it's a sign telling me I need to finally update my Lavi x Tyki fic? I dunno). I apologize if it seems rushed but I will be working and MIA for the next five days so I really wanted to get this done while I had time, so I hope it doesn't suck too hard ^^".

Also for anyone else wanting to read this fic there are Nea x Allen undertones. They're both teens in this and I don't know about your experiences with teenagers, but they make a lot of dirty jokes so expect that. Also they bully each other quite a bit in this fic but I think it fits their dynamic well! And of course, since this is a Cross blog, I have to add Cross somewhere in this, so he'll make an appearance as well.

Once again, Happy bday, I hope you had a lot of awesome food and cake and that it was a relaxing day!

"Dude, why the fuck does one of your dad's recipe books have the word orgasm in it?" asked a particularly tall and dark, curly-haired individual helping himself to whatever was in Cross's kitchen. One of these things was raiding his coffee supply so he could look after the two young troublemakers currently fighting over what flavor of cake they were making.

                "Ooo, no way, seriously!?" the more diabolical of the two (cough cough Nea) chirped before making his way over to peer over Tyki's shoulder, his eyes alight with mischief. Upon glancing at the book, his golden eyes narrowed in irritation, and he snatched the book out of Tyki's hand.

"You dumb ass, that's oregano! Not to mention you've been holding it upside down," Nea snapped, thumping Tyki on the head with said book and tossing it aside. Then he turned onto his heel towards Allen, continuing the argument they'd been having. "As I was saying, we're making chocolate because it's as dark as my soul!"

"No way, edge lord. Chocolate is disgusting. Besides, you're in my house, so I get to decide what kind we make," Allen said with an annoyed pout as he gathered up a bowl and flour.

"Your house? Last time I checked, this was Cross's house, you moocher," Nea shot back as he went to the fridge to grab milk and eggs.

"Oi, I'm 16, asshole, and I have the means to pay my way. Speaking of Cross, if you don't quiet down, he's gonna find out what we're doing, and he'll kill me. He still hasn't forgiven me for the boiling water incident," Allen hissed.

"Dude, that was so fucking funny; I still don't know how you managed to set a boiling pot of water on fire," Nea laughed as he placed the ingredients down on the table next to Allen before rummaging through cabinets to find sugar.

Tyki choked on his cup of stolen coffee at that. "Wait, what!? Are you sure having him in here is a good idea? Actually, should either of you be doing this?"

"Why the fuck do you care, Tyki? It's not your kitchen," Nea reasoned, raising his eyebrow at his cousin.

"Ah, right," Tyki hummed as he took out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

"Dude, are you high!? Put those away! You can't smoke in here!" Allen snapped, making a lunge for Tyki's cigarettes.

Tyki, unphased, simply raised said items above his head, blinking in mild surprise at Allen's outburst, "Why? What's the problem? I thought your old man smoked."

"He does, but he doesn't smoke that kind. He says those are for curly-haired fuckboy homewreckers." Allen huffed, trying to reach Tyki's smokes in vain.

"Ouch, it looks like someone is still pissed off about his older son's dating preferences. It's been like two months already; when is he gonna get over it?" Tyki commented with an eye roll.

"Hey, he's not the only one! You ever think of breaking Lavi's heart, and I'll cut out yours, including your most favorite part of your body," Allen threatened, making a pointed look down south before returning to Nea's side to begin putting ingredients into the bowl.

"You're just gonna stand there and let him threaten me like that?" Tyki asked, pocketing his smokes anyway.

"Yeah, cuz I think it's funny. Besides, you totally don't deserve anyone like Lavi. What he sees in you is beyond my comprehension," Nea said with an innocent smile, pausing momentarily to smack Allen's hand, who was trying to sneak a taste of a cake batter.

"Ow, you bitch!" Allen squeaked, rubbing his hand with a pout.

"Don't you put your grubby little commoner paws in the batter? The hell is wrong with you!?"

Allen gasped and touched his chest in mock hurt, "A grubby commoner!? I welcome you into my COMMONER home, let you use my COMMONER cooking utensils and ingredients, and this is the thanks I get!?"

"Ah, you're right; Cross would be the grubby commoner who thinks he is high class while you are the dirty little street rat he let crawl into his home. My bad," Nea purred before patting Allen's face endearingly.

"You're an entitled, snake-eyed prick," Allen huffed back before flicking Nea's forehead, who tried to grab Allen's hand and bite it.

"Mind telling me why you two are such good friends again?" Tyki asked, filling his coffee cup for the third time since getting here and wishing it was alcohol. He was way too sober to be babysitting these two morons right now.

"Belittling each other mercilessly is our love language- Ow Nea, your teeth are sharp!" Allen responded, trying to kick Nea in the shin.

"Ewgh, commoner blood. It tastes like depression and existential dread," Nea gagged, finally pulling away.

"Dude, you made me bleed!"

"Yeah, yeah, just don't get it in the cake," Nea said, waving him off as he began to crack some eggs.

"You know, for being scared about your old man waking up, you two are sure taking your sweet ass time getting the cake done."

"Well, jee, maybe we'd go a little faster if a certain hobo stopped drinking the entire coffee supply and helped out instead of making bitchy little comments," Allen growled, eyeing Tyki's cup in annoyance, "How many fucking cups is that? Do you know how expensive coffee is?"

"What do you even need help with?" Tyki asked, almost immediately regretting his decision when he saw Allen's face split into a mischievous smirk. He watched the teen turn on his heel and dig through the array of plastic bags on the counter. There, he pulled out a pack of balloons and approached Tyki before holding up said item.

"I'm so glad you asked my favorite neighborhood dumpster fire. I know you're quite good at blowing things, so I figured these would be right up your alley!" Allen chirped.

"Ha, blow job joke!" Nea supplied, cursing to himself when an eggshell landed in the cake batter.

"Oh my god, you whore, how many are you putting in!? Those are expensive, too!" Allen whined, shoving the balloons at Tyki's chest before returning to Nea.

"I'm doing exactly as the recipe said; stop nagging me!"

"Kid, you're fucking delusional if you think I'm going to blow up all these balloons by myself," Tyki deadpanned.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you smoke like a train. Yeah, the last thing you probably want is to die on my kitchen floor. I wouldn't mind, though, because I would find it hilarious. Plus, I would probably make your body do something embarrassing like pick your nose before rigor mortis sets in," Allen laughed, returning to rummaging around in the plastic bags once again and producing a helium tank.

"Here you go," Allen chirped, setting the tank down next to Tyki with a sweet and serene smile as if he wasn't just talking about the morbid idea of Tyki dying.

"You wouldn't do that; Lavi would be devastated," Tyki shot back before he began to play with the tank to understand how it worked.

"When it comes to history and other random shit, Lavi is a beast, but when it comes to dating…" Allen trailed off.

"He's a delusional dumb bitch with the worst track record I have ever seen," Nea deadpanned.

"Thank you, Nea," Allen cooed, walking back over to watch Nea mix the ingredients together.

"Hey, you better watch it. One day, I might just end up being your brother-in-law," Tyki hummed with a teasing smirk as he began to fill up balloons.

"Yeah, sure, that'll be the day-Tim stop trying to EAT THE DAMN CURTAINS!?" Allen yelped, stomping to the window where a toothy, yellow golem was hanging precariously. Upon being spotted, the golem tried to chew the curtains even faster, much like a dog, knowing it was getting into something it knew it shouldn't. Allen snatched the poor thing up by its tail and growled a single command, "Drop it!"

With a pathetic, mechanical whimper, the golem spat out the curtain and hung from Allen's hand in defeat.

"But Father, he hungers," Nea teased.

"Hungers? Yeah, hungers to watch me get throttled by Cross's hands more like. Stay off the curtains; you're better than that," Allen scolded, shaking the golem in his hand until it swung back and forth and produced tiny tears from only God knows where.

"Stop it, you're gonna give him shaken baby syndrome," Nea giggled, quickly sticking the cake into the oven before poking at the pathetic little being that hung from Allen's grip.

"No, he must learn not to be a crackhead!" Allen growled, holding the golem at eye level and scrutinizing him. His eyes narrowed further as Tim wiggled his tiny nubs at his face, begging for forgiveness.

With a huff, Allen leaned forward to kiss the golem, "Fine, I forgive you. For now. Don't do it again."

"Now begone thot!" Allen declared, letting Tim's tail go and watching as the creature flew over to the table to see if there were any leftovers he could get into.

"Damn, that golem has more cake than any human I've ever seen," Nea commented, making a disgusted face as he watched Tim devour some eggshells.

"Don't comment on his butt cheeks. He gets self-conscious. Come, let's see how your hobo cousin is doing on the balloons!" Allen said before grabbing Nea's arm and marching towards Tyki.

While they waited for the cake to bake, the two joined Tyki and helped him blow up balloons. This should've made the older man happy because more people doing the task would have made it quicker to finish. Right? Wrong. Not with these two knuckleheads.

"Hey Allen, check this out," Nea said, an impish smirk plastered on his face as he took one of the balloons he was filling up and inhaled some of the helium.

"Hey Allen, do you think my voice sounds weird?" Nea asked, his voice sounding like a deranged chipmunk.

Allen's eyes widened comically at the drastic voice change. Ah, apparently, Tweedle Dee hadn't had much experience with helium before. Well, this should be interesting…

"What? Oh, don't tell me you've never played with helium before," Nea teased before breathing in some more and asking in a sultry voice, "Tell me, Allen, do you think my voice sounds sexy? You know you always wanted to bang a guy who sounded like a chipmunk, right? Ooh yes, harder, daddy~."

Tyki rolled his eyes as the two idiots began to cackle and say stupid, sexual things to each other. He decided to mind his own business and fill up another balloon. Ugh, teenagers.

"Mmm, yes, beg like the slut you are~" Allen cooed back after inhaling some of the helium from the balloon he held in his hands.

"Mmm fuck~"

"Aaah~"

"Ohhhh~"

"Will you two idiots knock it off? Your sex noises are annoying," Tyki snapped, holding the helium tank valve threateningly at the two teenagers who were cackling like hyenas on crack.

"Awhhh I think someone is jealous," Nea cooed as he reached for the helium valve.

"Yeah, Tyki, why don't you remove that giant stick up your ass and live a little," Allen egged on.

"I'm not jealous, and I don't have a giant stick up my ass; I just think you two suck at making sex noises," Tyki bitched, pulling the valve away with a warning look, "Boy, you're crazy if you think you're gonna huff this shit right out of the tank."

"Oh really? Well, why don't you show us how it's done, Mr. Casanova? I bet you sound like a wheezing grandpa in bed," Allen remarked with a shit-eating grin.

"Oh, come on, I don't smoke that much; I've done a pretty good job not touching my cigarettes so far, haven't I?"

 Nea sucked more helium from his balloon before saying in a psychotic, high-pitched tone, "Come on, Tyki, come play with us~."

"Come play with us, Tykiii~" Allen chimed in.

Tyki rolled his eyes but decided to comply if it would shut these two loonies up for a bit. Allen and Nea leaned forward, their eyes wide and curious about how Tyki would sound on helium.

"Mmm, you like that, don't you? Why don't you bend over and show me how much you want me," Tyki moaned, trying to make his voice sound husky and seductive, which would've been more effective had he not sounded like a demonic, perverted chipmunk.

Allen screamed in laughter, doubling over until he practically rolled on the floor in amusement, "Y-Y-You sound so s-stupid!"

"W-Wait, d-do it again; I-I wanna get it on camera to show Road!" Nea said through fits of laughter.

"No way, if Sheril found out, he'd implode! Actually…that wouldn't be a bad idea…at least with him out of the picture, I wouldn't have to listen to his constant bitching," Tyki mused before he loomed over the red-faced Allen. Feeling a desire to torture the brat a little more, he whispered, "Bite the pillow, Pinocchio. I'm going in dry."

Allen shrieked and tried to back away from Tyki in amused horror, "S-Stop it! M-My stomach hurts!"

"Mmm, disgusting perv," Nea hummed to himself before sniffing the air, "Ah, hey, is the cake burning?"

Allen, who was dying, suddenly turned serious as he whipped his head toward the oven, "Whoa, wait! What!? Ah fuck! Nea, I thought you were watching the time!"

"No, I thought you were watching the time."

"Oh, so neither of you was watching the time?"

"Shut up, Tyki, not now!" Allen yelped as he quickly grabbed an oven mitt and reached inside to pull out the cake pan. Nea peered over Allen's shoulder, eyeing the cake for any signs of black burned bits. "Whoops, false alarm. It looks done to me."

Allen slowly turned around to give Nea the nastiest, most fed-up look he could muster. Nea, in response, batted his eyes up at Allen and reached up to boop his nose before scurrying off to the table to begin making the icing.

As Allen plotted his friend's death in his head, Timcanpy had flown off to find a certain slumbering redhead that somehow managed to sleep through all the racket thus far. Tim glided soundlessly into his bedroom and went over to the mess of red hair before landing in it and nuzzling the man's head affectionately. The golem made some sort of fucked up purring noise and nibbled at a particularly stuck-up strand of hair, attempting to wake the sleeping figure peacefully.

Well, of course, that didn't work out because Cross happened to be sleeping like a rock.

So Timcanpy used another sinister method, one that he liked to use quite frequently: crawling over and chomping his ear.

"Ow! What the fuck!? Tim, you little shit!" Cross yelled, shooting up in bed and grabbing at his throbbing ear in irritation. He then turned his eye towards the golem who woke him up so rudely, seething in anger. He grabbed Tim by the tail, holding him up to glare, "What the fuck was that for!?"

Tim wriggled about a little in his initial panic before remembering why he was there. He still hadn't forgiven Allen for thwarting his plans to eat the curtains and decided he would get revenge. With a grin, Tim opened his mouth and proceeded to show Cross a projection of just what his brat had been up to downstairs.

Cross narrowed his eye, immediately recognizing Allen in the kitchen…and with that horrible influence of a brat Nea Campbell! It's not that Cross flat-out hated the kid; in fact, some of his mischievous antics were entertaining. It's just that sometimes he could go too far. Well…I guess it was better Allen had someone else with him in the kitchen. Hell, it seems like they did a pretty good job not fucking shit up so far. But damn it, why was it, Nea!? Besides, why the fuck were they even making a cake!?

Then the projection shifted over to Tyki, and Cross felt his blood boil. What the fuck was that asshole doing here!? Drinking his coffee nonetheless!? Ok, that's it! Tolerating the fuckboy dating his eldest son was one thing, but Lavi wasn't even here right now! Or at least he should be at work! He was not gonna put up with this asshole coming around whenever he wanted; he already had to hold his tongue when he happened to come over to visit Lavi!

"The brats are dead," Cross growled as he flung the bedsheets off and stormed downstairs. His bedhead made him all the scarier.

Meanwhile, the brats were fighting over a tube of icing, and of course, Nea had the upper hand.

"Ahahaha, you should look at your face! It looks like it's c-"Nea laughed, getting interrupted by a well-placed jab in his ribs that made him lower his arms just enough for Allen to grab the icing.

"Nea, you ass! Now it's your turn! Now open that pretty little mouth of yours and take it like the little bitch you are!" Allen exclaimed, holding the tube of icing above Nea's face with a demonic grin.

Nea, being the little shit he was, smiled sweetly and purred, "Oh, but of course, daddy~."

Just as Allen squeezed a dollop of the white sugary sweet into Nea's mouth, the enraged Cross stormed into the kitchen. Nea's eyes flitted over to the pissed-off redhead and smiled politely, "Oh, hello, Mr. Cross; Allen and I were just playing~."

"Oh fuck!" Allen cussed, immediately pulling away from Nea and dropping the tube of icing on the table, his face turning beet red.

"Yeah, oh fuck. Mind telling me what the fuck you two are getting into and why Mr. Fuckboy McGee is in my house?" Cross asked, kicking a stray balloon away from him and leaning against the doorjamb.

"Fuckboy McGee?" Tyki commented, putting a hand to his chest in mock hurt. Cross shot him a dirty look that instantly made Tyki shut his mouth. Once he was sure Tyki would keep his trap shut for the next few minutes, he looked back over to his brat, who was scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"U-Uhm, well, we're making a birthday cake and stuff for a friend…" Allen tried to explain.

"And you decided to use my kitchen instead of going to Nea's house?"

"Skinn would've had a shit fit if we made a cake and wouldn't let him eat it…and Road would pester us into a fit of madness," Nea explained sweetly.

Cross sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Alright, so the kid was just trying to do something nice for a friend; he can't get totally mad at him for that, right? Plus, even amidst their dorky shenanigans, the brats didn't burn down his kitchen, so that was good, right?

"Still, that doesn't explain why he's here," Cross growled, jabbing a thumb at Tyki.

"He's the designated babysitter…but we're also using him for transportation," Nea said, ignoring the splutter Cross produced at "designated babysitter." That man!? A babysitter!? He couldn't even babysit a pet rock!

"Ugh…whatever. I guess you succeeded in not fucking up anything, so I can't be too mad…just clean up after yourselves," Cross huffed in defeat before pushing himself off the doorjamb and to the living room to see what was on TV.

"O-Okay," Allen stammered out, giving Nea a look that said, 'Holy shit, he's not gonna kill us!'.

Nea gave Allen a look of his own that said, 'No shit, dumb ass, don't ever doubt me again.'

"Alright, well, the only thing left is the candles!" Allen chirped as he turned around to rummage through the bags once again. I got some super dope looking ones on sale! We should light one up to see what it looks like!"

"You got 24 of them, right?" Nea asked, walking over to Tyki to steal his lighter. Tyki gave his younger cousin a dirty look but allowed him to take it for now.

"Of course!" said a confident Allen as he snatched the lighter from Nea's hand and lit up the 'candle' in his hand without hesitation.

"Dude, those are some strange looking candles-OH MY GOD ALLEN THAT'S A FIREWORK!"

"W-Wait w-what!?" Allen shrieked, staring at the lit fuse in horror as it began to snake down to his hand. He pranced around, looking for a place to drop said firework.

"Dude, just drop it!"

"Where!?"

"Anywhere! Quick, before it blows up!" Nea yelled as he took the firework from Allen's hand and threw it off to the corner.

"Fuck! Hit the ground!" Tyki yelped as he shoved the two brats under the table, himself included, just as the firework exploded in the kitchen. The flying projectile proceeded to ricochet all about Cross's kitchen, breaking the light fixture and knocking over the mixing bowl and a clock hanging nearby before landing on the cake. As Cross stormed back into the kitchen to figure out just what the hell was going on, the smoke alarm decided now would be the best time to start blaring. Great…well, so glad that was working. Too bad that wouldn't save Allen from meeting his doom.

Cross's eye flitted about the kitchen before landing directly on his brat who smiled sheepishly up at his guardian. As Cross approached, Tyki and Nea, with good judgement, backed far away from Allen. Cross plucked the firework out of the cake and kneeled down to hold the offending object up to Allen's face.

"Aheheh….oops," Allen laughed nervously, his face turning pale as Cross's face turned dark with rage. He swore he could see a vein begin to pop out on the man's forehead.

Then Cross smiled and began to count down, "10…9…8…"

Allen gulped and scrambled out from under the table before taking off in a full-on sprint out of the house with his guardian quick on his heels, screaming, "When I catch you, you're dead!"

Tyki and Nea watched the display, Nea looking bored and Tyki blinking owlishly. Nea sighed and stretched his arms over his head before turning on his heel to collect the mixing bowl that miraculously survived its tumble to the floor. "Well, guess I better get to work; a new cake isn't just going to pop out of thin air."

"Wait, shouldn't we be running after Allen to ensure Cross doesn't kill him?"

Nea shrugged, washing the bowl in a nearby sink. "Nah, Allen is a pretty resourceful guy; he can handle it."

Tyki grabbed his lighter from the ground and withdrew a cigarette from his pocket. He lit up the cancer stick, inhaled, and slowly released the smoke towards the shrieking smoke alarm, "Yeah…maybe you're right."

"Of course I am; I'm always right," Nea shot back snottily before demanding, "Well, don't just stand there! Make yourself useful and turn that blasted thing off! It hurts my ears!"

"Yes Princess Nea…"

[maddietries]

I’m sick *cough*

Character: K!Bakugou (aged up)

Genre:Fluff

ships: Married!Bakugoux fem!reader

readers quirk: you can make flowers,vines,thorns shit like that. To charge said quirk you have to be outside… a lot. Which means you get sick a lot when new seasons roll around.

Warnings: mentions of sickness and vomiting

You’d just come home from patrol and lord was it a ruff day. You’d had issues with two villains. One with a fire quirk which has always been a weakness for you. The other one tried to attack a school. So after when you were trying to comfort the kids inside. You just didn’t haven’t in you to make a ton of pretty flowers for them. You felt awful.

Now you were at home laying on the couch still in your hero costume feeling like shit and your lovely husband wouldn’t be home for a while. You’d already thrown up once on your way home thank god for random bags in your car. You felt and probably looked like shit, so obviously a bath would help. Plus you needed to take better care of yourself. You slowly grabbed a small glass of soda, a candle, and some epsom salts. You started to run the bath, you slowly sat down with your drink in hand sipping it slowly. You set it down starting to doze off.

Next thing you know it’s been two hours and you hear yelling. Bakugou is home. Ah shit now you have to get out try not to get sick, and find out why he’s yelling. Fuck me. You start to get out of the tub and slip into your robe when you get sick again, good thing the toilets right there. Did he stop yelling? You hear foot steps and then the door swings up.

“What the fuck?!?” He yells. Fuck that was loud

“I’m sick” I say back weakly leaning back on the toilet. Then he just sits down next to me.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He says barely above a whisper.

“You were working.” I say at the same volume. He frowns at me.

“I don’t care if this ever happens again you call me the minute you start hurting. Understand?” He says quietly but slightly sternly.

“mhm” I say back starting so dose off again.

“Hey pretty keep your eyes open we’ve got to get you to bed.” He says giving a small smile..

“ok” I say back. I don’t plan on getting up. I’m was just waiting for him to understand that.

“alright then” he says scooping me up. Carrying me bridal style out of the bathroom.

“Bedroom or living room?” I hear him ask.

“living room, big tv.” I say, he laughs lightly at my short sentences. He lays me on the couch and walks away just then do I realize he’s still in his hero costume. A few minutes later he come backs in sweatpants and the iconic skull shirt. He even brought you a blanket and some medicine. Oh how you love this man.

“drink this.” He says handing you the medicine. You take it like a normal person until

“BLEH” you cough out. I’m a child you think.

“Yeah I know now come here” he says opening his arms for you with the blanket it hand.

“Nice and warm” you say curling up into him.

“Mhm now if you ever get sick again you call me as soon as you can okay?” He says for the second time today.

“I know, now can we turn something on, cuddling and fall asleep?” I say yawning.

“yeah yeah I’m working on it” he says turning in my favorite movie. I curl into him more and start to fall asleep.

“G’night love you” he says and that’s the last thing I heard falling asleep.

[dollivication]

Hihiiiii, this is gonna be long, i've got a rant AND an idea thingy. i've mentioned before not bein into anyone other than Wesker in Resident Evil buuuut I just watched Resident Evil: Vendetta and I GET THE HYPE, I ADMIT, I GET IT. LEON'S MODEL IS SO FINE. I'm guilty to say seeing him in the movie and the old games vs in RE2+4 Remake, I prefer this design. He's more rugged? LAIK I KNOW HE STARTS OFF AS A ROOKIE BUUUT THEY COULDA KEPT HIS LOOK I saw people speaking about the newer design for his character saying they gave him the 'dumbass pretty boy' look cuz it makes more sense for him as a rookie cop in 2 but man.... Rookies can look like anything so if that were the case for the change....eeeeeh.... Also unpopular opinion, I also prefer Louis' old design. I'M SORRY, HE DOES GIVE OFF THE CREEPY UNCLE VIBE IN THE REMAKES MODEL. ANYWAY, I hope you're doing well today, staying hydrated and fed! Gotta look after yourself above all else. To make this less of a rant, I shall be the first (I think) to make a Wesker scenario/idea thingy. Wesker is all about himself, right? It's a part I surprisingly love about him. BUT LAIK, if he deems you special enough to make you his 'pet', just know he's NEVER letting you leave him. He knows all, where you go, who you talk to, what you're doing, etc. And if you even think of trying to contact anyone (perhaps a certain STARS agent...) you can find yourself tied up by his Uroboros tentacles and used for hours until he's done with work and uses you himself. He's superior, he tells you that, and he'll fill you up with his cum, talk about giving you a 'purpose' , laik breeding you to have his obviously 'superior, god-like children' OOP- He's a feckin menace, I can imagine if you go to get help in person (he has eyes on you at all times, so ofc you can roam around but not for long if you keep creep round some rookie or CHRIS) you'll end up in a bloody puddle, not dead but certainly taught a lesson... ☉▵☉ JUST AN IDEA FROM A DEPRAVED WESKER FAN DON'T MIND MEEE Love ya, Dolly (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ -Nell 🍓

NELLLLLL HAI HAILLO HEY :3!!!! WHEN I SAW THIS I LIT UP I CANNOT LAI… it’s always a treat to hear from yu!!! ^.^ and oh my we have MUCH TO DISCUSS TAKE A SEAT MWAAA 🩷🩷🩷

VENDETTA LEON IS JUST A SKRUNKLE!!!! HE IS a sopping wet andgrumpy kity… AND NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT,, it would be interesting to see him laik dat in re2.. laik how could this stingy critter get even stingier… a leon miserable from the start would’ve been pretty funy methinks LMAO

you are SO right about luis’ old design you are voicing thoughts i am 2 shy to say.. laik his new design is great!! but there’s a certain peculiarity to his old wan that screams yucky weirdo uncle.. might be dat wack ass hair and outfit GIGGLING he looks laik a vampire too !!! they’re both in special parts of my heart…. 🩷

I AMMM DOING SPLENDID and oh my lordy lord i forgot to drink water today THANK you for the reminder LMHREKSLFG i promise that’s not usually like me.. I HOPE YOU ARE DOING THE SAME HOWEVER !!!!!! please take lots o care!!!! >.<

THE. THE WESKER SCENARIO. IM SAT.!!!!??? TENTACLES,, ESPECIALLY FROM UROBOROS,,, ARE THE WAY TO MY HEART …. THE SUPERIORITY COMPLEX. BY JOVE!!! he’s so narcissistic and he’d probably tell you to be thankful that he chose you to have his kids… anyone would die for a chance like that!! (he is NOT wrong HEL))

his freaky ass would probably even put a shock collar on you,… god forbid you do anything that’s remotely out of line! AND ESPECIALLY god forbid you go near chris he’ll actually tweak the fuck out … i want wesker to stab me and say it was my fault for pushing him i CANNOT lie.. laik yur rite king i’m sorryIMSO SANE IM SO SANY

nell i’m hugging yu so tightly rn this crumb of thought was yumy… i lauv wesker so badly….sighs dreamily💔💔💔

[reccyls]

Sengoku Cat Cafe (Azuchi edition)

This is a translation of the bonus cat POV (!!!) stories that are from the castle gacha I got the above image from. There are 3 stories:

3rd party (starring Funiko ≽^•⩊•^≼, a cute little black kitten)

Kasugayama (starring Joururi /ᐠﹷ ‸ ﹷ ᐟ\ﾉ, a classy calico lady)

Azuchi (starring Kabutomaru /ᐠ ˃ ⤙ ˂ マ Ⳋ, a tough and proud tuxedo boy)

Azuchi story

(Lately, there have been more and more customers coming by...) (It looks like they're all coming here to see me.) (Because Granny adopted me, I have to repay her.) (She said, "You'll be a good omen," even after she saw my two-colored coat, and then she took me in.) (So that's why... I have to work hard.)

Ranmaru: Hey, that's the tea shop over there, right?

Keiji: It's really crowded! Just as popular as all the rumors say.

Nobunaga: ...So this is the "cat cafe" she spoke of.)

("Cat cafe?" What does that mean?) (...Never mind that. These guys. They look like warriors.) (...I hate warriors.)

Masamune: Hm? Is it just me, or is that cat over there staring at us awfully hard?

Mitsunari: Is it? I'm happy it's taken such an interest in us.

(When I was a kitten, I was adopted by the son of a warrior. Then his parents almost killed me.) (They said that two-colored cats were bad luck.)

Masamune: ...Hmm?

(...I have to play nice because I'm working. But don't get the wrong idea.)

Masamune: What's with that look on your face? You're looking at us like we're the enemy.

(...I hate this guy the most.)

Mitsunari: Allow me to step in. I'm quite used to playing with cats, since I have Kitty.

Ieyasu: ...This is the definition of a bad idea.

Mitsunari: Here kitty kitty. I have a cat toy for you.

(Does he take me for a fool? ...is what I want to say.) (But I'm working right now. Hold it in. I'll just go play dumb and go "meow meow meow...")

Ieyasu: ! What's with this cat? Does it have no sense of taste?

(Rude. It's called professionalism.)

Ieyasu: ...I think I know how to make you happier than playing with that. Ieyasu: Want to try?

(Interesting. Let's see if you can back up your words.)

Ieyasu: Here's some dried bonito. I bought it from the owner.

(Bribery! ...But I do like bonito. Damn it.)

Ieyasu: Ah, it's eating it. Pretty cute...

Masamune: What, you get special cuddling privileges after luring it in with food, is that right?

Ieyasu: Don't put it like that. Ieyasu: Anyway, I'm just holding it for a little bit. And increasing the shop's sales at the same time.

(Well... he has a point. I guess I have to thank him for buying from the store...) (Thanks.)

Masamune: So, your name's Kabutomaru, is it?

(He heard it from the owner, I guess.)

Masamune: It's a good name. The pattern on your head kinda looks like a helmet, so it fits.

(Is he being sarcastic? He doesn't know about my past or what my fur pattern almost led to.)

Ranmaru: Lord Masamune, surely you know that cats with fur patterns like that are considered bad luck among samurai and warrior families. Ranmaru: That fur pattern looks more like a cracked helmet... Not exactly something that would bring about good luck.

Masamune: And what about it? Masamune: Better to wear your colors with pride rather than hide what you are. Life's better that way. Even this little guy's brave and strong enough to do that.

(...Huh. That's actually... not bad to hear.)

Ranmaru: Um, Lord Masamune? This cat's a boy, isn't he? Don't tell me you're trying to charm him too?

Masamune: What's cooler than a man that even other men can fall for?

(He has a point.)

Ranmaru: Then let me have a turn too!

(Hey, what are you-- ah...)

Ranmaru: Cats really like it when you scratch their chins like this~

(It does feel really good... This kid knows what he's talking about.)

Ranmaru: Looks like he's not as wary as he was before. That's good.

Kabutomaru: Meow.

(...I mean, like, if you're going to spoil me this much...) (I can't say you're bad people, even if you are warriors...)

Mitsuhide: Then shall I have a try? Mitsuhide: Come here, Kabutomaru.

(Wh-what's with this guy? ...He's weird. Dangerous.)

Hideyoshi: Aaaand he's back to being on guard.

Mitsuhide: Don't back away like that. You'll hurt my feelings.

(With that smile on your face? Yeah right.)

Mitsuhide: No need to wave your tail like that. Let me just...

(Why's he getting closer?) (...Huh? This smell...)

Kabutomaru: Meow!!!!

Hideyoshi: What's wrong!? Kabutomaru!?

Mitsuhide: He seems to be fond of catnip*. Mitsuhide: I heard that it sends cats into a state of euphoria, but I didn't think it'd be quite this effective. * it's not catnip, but silver vine, which basically does the same thing

(You villain...! You- you turned my body against me!)

Hideyoshi: Always with the trickery, you. Are you okay, Kabutomaru? Hideyoshi: Take a minute to recover. Do you mind if I pick you up?

(Nnn... I don't love it, but this guy's arms are gentle... it's not bad...)

Hideyoshi: There, there. There's a good boy.

(Don't treat me like a kitten. I'm a big cat now.) (But it's warm like this... It feels nice. I guess, maybe... a few more minutes...)

Keiji: Look at you getting all cozy. Cats don't normally get so close to people.

(...Yeah, that's right. I feel like I'm selling out after just a little bit a pampering.) (Selling out to warriors, of all people.) (I guess it's because I know they won't do anything (too) bad to me, even if they are warriors...)

Keiji: You're a pretty special cat, aren't ya?

(Ack! Gentler! Pet me gentler!)

Keiji: Don't sulk like that. Here, how's this instead? You like this way of petting better?

(...This guy... Even though he's a human, he's got eyes like a cat. I kinda feel like we're similar. Sort of.)

Kabutomaru: Meow.

Keiji: Aw, look at you licking my fingers. Nice to meet you, Kabutomaru. Do I pass your standards?

(...He's putting on a smile, isn't he?)

Kabutomaru: ...

Keiji: ... Keiji: Ah... Yeah. I get the feeling that we're pretty similar, you and I.

(It looks that way. Well, either way, cheer up a little.)

Kabutomaru: Meow~

Hideyoshi: He's all nuzzled up against you. Looks like he likes you too.

Keiji: ...Guess so, heh.

Nobunaga: Oi, cat. Nobunaga: You are Kabutomaru, are you not?

(Ugh, what's with this pressure...? Is this guy the boss?)

Nobunaga: Oh? To look at me with such eyes, you must have quite the impudent spirit.

(What, don't like how I'm looking at you? What's next? Going to look down on me, trample me?) (...Even though they seemed like good people, in the end, they're just warriors after all.)

Ieyasu: He really seems to hate you, Nobunaga.

Nobunaga: It matters not. This one has a keen eye, after all. Nobunaga: Kabutomaru. How would you like to rule the world at my side?

Kabutomaru: ...Meow?

(Don't tell me he's trying to headhunt me!?)

Nobunaga: You showed no fear of me. I quite like that.

(As much as he sounds all commanding, he's petting me really gently...)

Nobunaga: If you come with me, you shall live your life in utmost luxury. You have my word.

(Nobody's looked me eye-to-eye and acknowledged me like this before.) (I... I feel kinda happy.)

Kabutomaru: ....Meow.

(...But I still owe Granny too much. Sorry.)

Nobunaga: I see. So that is your answer.

(Nobu... Nobu-what? What was his name?) (Oh, that's right. Nobu-tan. Thank you, Nobu-tan.)

Masamune: Looks like you got rejected.

Nobunaga: No matter. I can simply come to see him again.

(...Maybe warriors can be pretty cool.)

[welkinsky]

Hi!

i was wondering could you do a Kiba x reader, were the reader gets hurt and what he would do? Pleas and thanks ❤

and i love your work by the way it is so simple and sweet

Kiba X Reader | Reader Gets Injured

Kiba was not the one to show you directly that he was into you. Everyone talked about it. They teased him too but he never directly said it. 

Initially, even you had feelings for him but seeing how he constantly denies it? It made you back down from the thought of ever being with him.

But one thing that you just can't shrug off is how he always tries to boost himself and show off whenever you're around. You were smart enough to pick that at the very least. But if he DID like you, why was he not doing anything about it then? 

You left it up to him to decide, you were not the one to entertain the hot and cold behavior. You've dealt with this in the past and you knew it brings no good. It just shows how unsure the person is.

You were way above average in the class too so it's not like you had a lack of options out there but always cursed yourself when you found daydreaming about the man who was so unsure about you.

You were assigned a tough mission and before going you just wanted your answers once and for all. You tried to make him jealous by talking to other guys around him, didn't work. So you kinda gave up and headed in the mission with a clear head but sadly a broken heart.

Which almost cost you your life since now you were held captive by the goons who crossed paths by mistake. These people were sure way out of your league and you needed backup.

Sure you could take a few of them down but you were outnumbered and tired. Every now and then one of them would come and check on you it's been 2 days and not even one time the same guy came so you could only imagine how many of them were out there.

You were refusing your food, lord knows what they might have mixed in it. But lack of food and chakra caught onto you and you fainted. You woke up to loud noises from outside the cave where they kept you. But then a familiar voice called your name, "Hey Y/N. Wake up! Are you okay?" It was Hina, her voice as soft and soothing as ever.

You nodded and tried standing up but you were too weak, so she helped you as you walked out. You saw something that you never really thought was possible.

Kiba has gone crazy. You've never felt this strong chakra from him. He was far but you could hear, "How dare you lay a hand on her?!" as he attacked one of the goons.

"He's gone ruckus ever since your news came in," Hinata said from behind as she helped you to a safe place.

Later once you were back in the village you were up from being unconscious you were sitting by the window in your bed and looking out. Thinking of all the things that happened. Thinking about the look on his face. Hina and Ino were sitting on the other side of the room discussing something.

Then the door opened and HE walked in. You two didn't leave eye contact for a second. Your eyes clearly said, "Why can't you just admit it?" and his eyes were blank as he came straight to you and kissed you.

You were too stunned to speak but you gave in. You never realized when the two girls excused themselves. "Why-" you tried talking but he cut you off. "You're way out of my league Y/N. Many other capable guys can be a better man to you than I can ever be?"

"Yes but none of them came for me." You said sternly. "How do you think you're any inferior to them when you have a heart like that? What if I say that I don't give a damn about them but you."

You can see surprise clear on his face. "You're not saying what I think you're saying are you?"

"Yes, I do love you damn it! But you still haven't answered my question." your voice was assertive now. "I am scared that I won't be enough." He said lowly.

That broke your heart. A man like this who loves his comrades with all he has thinks he's not good enough. Tears started rolling down your eyes once you understood why he was being hot and cold. And here you thought that he had commitment issues or something.

You two sat down and cleared everything out. Once you two were together sure he felt inferior at times but you made it a rule to reassure him that very instant.

Thanks For Reading and for the ask too <3

Naruto Shippuden Masterlist

If you liked it you can check out the masterlist too!

Asks are still open if you have any other ideas as well ;)

[iamjucie]

A History in Lessons

Chapter 7: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt. 5

HEY! THIS IS GOING TO BE MESSED UP! ****I know I have the Dead Dove tag on all of these stories, but I really mean it this time. In this, there is descriptions of sexual and physical assault that can definitely be triggering.

If you are uncomfortable reading that but want to continue to read the story, you can with no issues. Just move onto the next chapter, I will be posting it directly after posting this one as its already written. I will put whatever context is needed in the beginning notes there.

special thanks to Helmi (@itsthatpearl on tumblr) and Mert (@mertesque on twitter) for beta reading. And an extra special thanks to Mert for helping me brainstorm, I couldn't have done it without him.

Also, lore note: I'm not sure if it is lore accurate that a Vampire Spawn can be drank from by a Vampire lord, but we are pretending they can. Ok? Cool.

The glow in his eyes dims ever so slightly.

Suddenly, you are back in your body. You aren’t even sure where you were a moment ago. You were here, but elsewhere. Your mind was… different. You wanted to be here, you know that much. But where is here? Who is this man? You’re so disoriented, you take a minute to recollect yourself. A moan is drawn from your lips.

You and the vampire lord find somewhere to be alone.

CW: Depictions of assault, Dead Dove, Mind Control Word count: 1.2k AO3 Link

“Let’s get out of here and find somewhere we can be alone.”

Warmness shoots from your ear to your core. Yes- you need this. You need him. Suddenly you have an appearingly insatiable desire for him. To be with him- no, to be his. All you can manage is a faint nod, words don’t seem to be able to form in your mouth no matter how hard you try. You must be so flustered that you’re speechless.

As soon as you give a semblance of agreement, he grabs your wrist and sweeps you away through the crowd. You’re struggling to keep up with his pace. He’s practically running, twisting your wrist uncomfortably as he pulls. It doesn’t seem to hurt, surprisingly.

He takes you into an empty hallway adjacent to the ballroom. Feral for you, he barges into the first door he sees without a knock or a care about what’s on the other side. You enter the room behind him with a yank from his grip on your arm. It's a bedroom. Your eyes gravitate to a vanity similar to the one Astarion said he loved so much.

Astarion… 

The vampire lord scoops you up bridal style, drawing a giggle from your lips. You kick off your elegant slippers before he tosses you onto the bed. Glowing eyes stare through you as he climbs on top of you, grinding his length into your leg through your dress. Your mind is filled with an unbearable lust that cannot be contained. 

You paw at the bulge in his pants, displaying your desperation for him to be inside you. You want it so badly. No- you’re beyond want, you need him. Your pussy is pulsing and your head is spinning with unbearable lust. He bunches up your dress to expose your folds to the elements. You’re completely bare, wearing no underwear. He inhales deeply through his nostrils. 

A scowl spans across his face. “Someone has already been here, hm? Pity.” a sigh leaves his lips, disappointment in his tone. “I wanted to fuck you myself, but I suppose I can make this work.” he says, staring longingly at your aching pussy. He looks into your eyes and says, “Fuck yourself. And make it good.”

With no thought behind it, your hand moves from his bulge to your cunt. You tease your entrance before sticking two fingers into yourself, massaging your inner walls slowly and sensually. You take your other hand and massage your clit simultaneously. Your head rolls back with a smile spread across your face. It feels so fucking good. Never have you felt such a pleasurable experience masturbating before this. It feels like golden waves of pure ecstasy are washing over you after every slight movement of your fingers. 

“Very nice, love.” He says, hovering above you watching your every movement, watching for the cues indicating you’re close. Your breaths and movements begin to lose any semblance of rhythm. “Now, I’m going to do something. I want you to brace yourself, okay?”

You nod. His words sound like music to you, the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard. You look into his eyes, he is so beautiful. 

The glow in his eyes dims ever so slightly. 

Suddenly, you are back in your body. You aren’t even sure where you were a moment ago. You were here, but elsewhere. Your mind was… different. You wanted to be here, you know that much. But where is here? Who is this man? You’re so disoriented, you take a minute to recollect yourself. A moan is drawn from your lips.

You look at the strange man on top of you and then down to your hands. You’re fucking yourself with a passion that you don’t have, with no input from your brain. Your hands are moving completely on their own. You look back up at the man, horror in your eyes. You scream at the top of your lungs.

“Who the fuck are you?!” You begin to thrash, he quickly puts a hand on your shoulder, pushing his entire weight onto it. You continue your attempt to escape. Thrashing, riving, doing anything to try to get him off of you. His grip doesn’t loosen. He only presses into you harder to punish your lack of submission, eventually dislocating your shoulder. You let out a blood curdling scream from the pain. 

“Why am I here?! What are you doing with my hands?!” Your fingers enter and exit your pussy over and over with vigor while you attempt to wriggle away from the cage he’s made with his body.

A predatory grin grows wide as he bares his fangs at you, “Thatta girl.” he hisses. He grabs your aching shoulder with one hand and your throat with the other, his bruising grip digging into your air pipe. 

You manage to let out a measly “Please don’t…” before he dives into you. He bites your neck with the strength of a beast. A gasp is drawn from your lips that shortly envelops itself into a struggling scream. He drinks from you with an animalistic force and speed, unlike any of the feeding sessions you’ve shared with Astarion.

Your body reacts to you fucking yourself, finally going over the edge. An unfortunate, yet beautiful feeling of euphoria washes over you while this monster is still latched to your throat. Your hands finally are unoccupied, but so much of your blood has already been drained that any attempt to hit or push him falls limp. Your arms drop to your sides, they are so heavy.

Slowly your struggle stops and your body is rendered null as the coldness of blood loss washes over you. Your screams turned into words, words became whimpers, and eventually the whimpers stopped. Your head rolls to the side. Your vision is beginning to be spotty as your eyelashes flutter, fighting to stay open.

He unlatches from your neck with a satisfied sigh. He gets off the bed and straightens his suit. He leans into your view, you’re lying motionless with your eyes still open slightly. “Sorry about dropping the whole compulsion thing. Fear just tastes so… delectable. I’m sure you understand.”

He turns to the vanity in the room. In the mirror is a slight reflection; a mostly transparent image of the monster appears. He takes a double glance at the looking glass before running up to it, placing a hand on the reflection. He stares in awe at the slight preview of himself. 

“Six hundred years…” he stares at himself in the eyes. “Six hundred years since I’ve seen that face. Not in a painting or a drawing. In the flesh.” He continues to stare at himself, barely blinking for several minutes as the reflection slowly fades; most likely due to your ascended blood being digested and recycled inside himself. 

He turns away from the mirror. “You…” he starts as he approaches where you lie. He kneels down next to the bed, inserting himself into your view. He places a hand on your cold cheek and leans his head into the crook of your neck, languidly licking the wound he created. Drinking up the last droplets of your blood. His hand is slightly warmed from the heat he stole from you. “Th-thank you.” He continues staring at you for a moment before standing up and walking out of the room.

You’re still unable to move. Mind clouded and vision blotched with black spots, darkness slowly fills your eyesight. You stare at the mirror that was just so profound for the monster. You close your eyes, succumbing to the heaviness of your eyelids. You feel nothing.

Next part

[headcanonsandmore]

'Fright Night' Chapter Three

Summary: As the dark night draws in, Nyssa finds herself changing more and more. Will sharing a room (and bed) help Nyssa and Tegan grow closer? Or will Nyssa's burgeoning new desires for the Australian threaten them both? On a rainy lightning-struck night, all will be revealed...

~~~~~~~~~

Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~

Tegan sipped from her cup of tea.

The sun was quickly setting over the horizon, and the sitting room was becoming darker by the second. Brockenfeld stood up from his seat, and went to turn on the lights, which flickered slightly. From what the professor had been saying, the power supply during storms was never as reliable as it was normally.

The Doctor was flicking through a book that Brockenfeld had recommended to him, the time lord seemingly oblivious to the flickering nature of the lights above.

‘Miss Tegan?’ Brockenfeld asked, and Tegan turned round to look at him.

‘Yes?’

‘Could you help me light the lanterns please? I thought it best to have them on low, just in case the electric supply fails.’

Tegan nodded, and placed her now-empty cup on the table beside her seat. She then set to work doing what the old man had asked.

‘You say that storms like this happen fairly regularly?’

‘Unfortunately, it is the season for it,’ Brockenfeld said, with a sigh. ‘Winter is now upon us, and I’m afraid the government of this area have precious little resources to put into a more durable energy supply.’

Tegan nodded, as she closed the hatch on the lantern, and set it to the lowest setting. It cast a nice, cozy light around it.

‘Ah, there you are, Nyssa!’

Tegan immediately turned round. Nyssa, wearing the dressing gown Tegan had left outside the bathroom, had reappeared. She did look a little better, although Tegan was startled to see that, if anything, she looked even more pale than before.

‘Feeling better?’ the Doctor asked, as she entered the room.

Nyssa nodded, absentmindedly.

Without thinking, the Australian hurried across the room and put an arm around her friend’s shoulder, giving her a rub on the upper arm. The Trakenite seemed to freeze slightly where she stood, and blinked quickly.

‘Nys, you okay?’ Tegan said, gently. ‘Good grief, you’re freezing cold! That bath barely warmed you up at all; let’s get you another mug of hot chocolate…’

Nyssa nodded, and allowed herself to be steered into a nearby chair.

A few moments later, Tegan returned, carrying a large mug of hot chocolate.

‘Here you go,’ she said, quickly passing it into Nyssa’s hands and sitting down beside her. ‘Get that down you, and then I think we all best turn in for the night.’

‘Thank you, Tegan,’ Nyssa said, quietly. ‘I… I really appreciate it.’

Tegan smiled, and nudged the younger woman gently with her shoulder.

‘Hey, what are best friends for, eh?’ Tegan then turned to Brockenfeld. ‘Professor, do you have any spare bedrooms that me and Nyssa can use for the night?’

‘Oh, you can use the room that my daughter stays in when she visits,’ said the professor, shooting a kindly smile at Nyssa. ‘I’m afraid it’s the only other room, but the bed is quite large, so I’m sure you’ll both be comfortable.’

‘I… I see,’ Nyssa said.

‘J-just the one room?’ Tegan said, with a slight stumble. The Australian’s face had suddenly turned a little pink. ‘I-I mean, of course I don’t mind but where will the Doc sleep-’

‘Oh, Time Lords don’t need much sleep,’ the Doctor said, airily. ‘I’ll stay up and read my way through these books. Fascinating subject matter by the way, professor.’

Deciding that any hopes of not sharing a bed with Nyssa were not futile, Tegan swallowed her flusteredness, and quickly changed the subject.

‘Professor, are there any other night-things that I could wear?’ she asked. ‘I hate to impose, but-’

‘Oh, no need to apologise,’ Brockenfeld replied. ‘Yes, my daughter keeps a lot of nightdresses in that room; I believe they were all washed just the other day, so you’re welcome to borrow one for the night.’

‘That’s good. Tegan’s feet do get ever so cold in bed if she’s not wearing thick nightclothes,’ Nyssa said, before turning to Tegan. ‘Do you remember I said about it last week; your feet were like icicles…’

Tegan felt her face burn. However, neither Brockenfeld nor the Doctor seemed to find Nyssa’s phrasing remotely peculiar, so she didn’t object. She instead picked up one of the professors books that had been left on the table nearby, and began to flick through it. Not being to focus on any of the words, of course.

On a few occasions, yes, she had shared a bed with Nyssa. Normally when one of them was having bad dreams.

That was what Tegan told herself, every time. Otherwise she’d never be able to get a wink of sleep. Of course, the sounds of a gently sleeping Nyssa was pretty relaxing, but her heart did ache nonetheless.

Well, it wasn’t Nyssa’s fault that Tegan had a one-sided longing for her. For all Tegan knew, it was a perfectly acceptable part of Traken culture to share a bed with your best friend. After all, they had shared a bed on Castrovalva, and they had barely known each other for a day by that point.

Tegan tried not to think too much about that last one. It had an irritating habit of making her hope for… well, something that she knew would never happen-

‘Ouch!’

Tegan placed the book on the table, and stared at her finger. Bloody papercut.

Nyssa’s eyes focused on the trickle of blood dripping down Tegan’s finger. The Trakenite seemed to freeze, taking a sharp intake of breath.

‘Shows you how unlucky I am’ Tegan said, with a playful nudge at Nyssa. ‘The Doctor reads a whole library and doesn’t get a single papercut. But I only have to look at a single page and I’m practically bleeding out..’

Tegan trailed off because, at that moment, Nyssa had put her lips around the papercut and sucked.

Her huge grey-green eyes fluttered shut as she did so, and a look of contentment passed over her face.

Tegan’s heart seemed to fly into her mouth, and she stared -utterly awestruck- as Nyssa continued to suck on her finger. Oh, no. This was bad. This was bad.

‘Er… N-Nyssa?’

The Trakenites face instantly turned a shade of deep magenta, and she pulled away, wiping her mouth.

‘S-sorry, Tegan,’ Nyssa stammered, looking away. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’

Tegan felt her heart continue to beat furiously against her chest. Something was definitely up with Nyssa.

*

The bedroom was surprisingly opulent. Tegan had, truth be told, expecting a rather ratty looking spare room, the sort used by people who had guests stay over maybe once a year; more used for storage than as a comfortable living space. But this room was possibly the least scuzzy room in the castle that she had seen thus far.

A large four-poster double bed dominated the room, with curtains withdrawn, revealing an invitingly soft red ensemble, with multiple throw pillows dotted around. Two bedside tables accompanied it. A chest of drawers of rich mahogany -and a matching wardrobe- completed the set. There was even a large screen stood near the wall for changing. Of course, one wall -the one against which the bed was placed was made up mostly of windows, against which the rain and sleet outside hammered.

Tegan placed the lantern on one of the bedside tables, and quickly drew the dark red curtains.

Nyssa sat down on the large double bed, and began to remove the dressing gown she had wrapped around her. Tegan ignore the explosion of butterflies in her stomach, and quickly marched over to the chest of drawers. She rooted through a couple of compartments, before finding the one containing the nightdresses that the professor had mentioned.

She pulled one out, and turned, where-

Tegan’s heart gave a stutter.

Nyssa was brushing her long mane of hair, the warm brown tresses laying softly against her neck and shoulders. Her eyes were half-closed as she worked, and… Tegan had to make a conscious effort not to stare down any lower. Tegan had known that the nightdress she had left outside the bathroom door for Nyssa was of a pale white, but she had never expected it to be so… sheer. And… was the front really that loose?

 Tegan swallowed.

‘Er, I’ll just…’

She awkwardly motioned to the screen. Nyssa looked up, and nodded. Despite the two of them sharing a room, the Trakenite didn’t think anything of Tegan’s bashfulness.

A few moments later, Tegan slipped the nightdress over her head, and pulled it down. It was mercifully not as sheer as the one Nyssa had one, although Tegan did make sure to do up the front as much as she could. Granted, it probably would have looked nicer on Nyssa, given how pretty and womanly she-

Tegan ignored the spike in confused emotions that temporarily overwhelmed her gut, but she knew the mix well. Attraction mixed with a certain amount of self-loathing. Nothing new there.

She brushed her short hair out of her eyes, and stepped out from behind the screen, carrying her clothes in her arms. She had already brushed her teeth earlier, so that was one less thing to worry about.

Nyssa was already lying under the covers, and gave a small smile as Tegan appeared. The Australian quickly placed her clothes on the dresser nearby, and approached the bed. She then turned the lantern down and crawled under the covers. Without a moments hesitation, the Trakenite moved over, so that she was lying directly next to Tegan, with barely a few inches between them.

Tegan ignored the way Nyssa’s scent became entangled around her, but it was rather difficult, given the situation.

‘So… Tegan said, turning on her side to face Nyssa. ‘Weird day, huh?’

‘I suppose.’

Something about the younger woman’s tone grew Tegan’s attention.

‘Nyssa, are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been quiet ever since you had your bath.’

‘I-I’m fine,’ Nyssa replied, quickly. ‘Just tired, that’s all-’

‘Good grief!’ Tegan said, putting a hand on Nyssa’s arm. ‘Nys, how have you managed to get colder?’

‘I feel perfectly healthy.’

‘No, you bloody well don’t!’ Tegan exclaimed. ‘Hang on, let me grab another blanket; you’re practically frozen already…’

‘No, Tegan; it’s not necessary!’

But the Australian duly climbed out from under the covers, crossed the room to the wardrobe, and pulled out several blankets stored in the drawers. She quickly hurried back to the bed, and proceeded to lay each down over Nyssa. She then drew the curtains of the four-poster around the bed, and slipped inside, closing them behind her.

‘There!’ Tegan said, triumphantly, as she climbed back under the covers and assorted blankets. ‘You’ll be warm in no time.’

Tegan moved along the mattress, and wrapped her arms around Nyssa, bringing their bodies close together. Her earlier flusteredness had gone, in the face of needing to help Nyssa get warm. There was nothing wrong with this, surely? After all, body heat was an excellent way of warming someone up. Besides, the two of them had cuddled in the past, so this wasn’t new territory for them.

The younger woman seemed to let out a low sigh, and leaned back into Tegan.

‘Better?’ Tegan whispered, into Nyssa’s ear.

There was a pause, and then the Trakenite nodded softly.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed. ‘I… oh, Tegan, you really do care far too much for me.’

‘Nothing’s too much for you,’ Tegan replied, her voice barely audible. ‘Nothing, Nyssa. You understand?’

In the half-light, Tegan could have sworn that Nyssa’s cheeks had flushed. But she knew that it was just wishful thinking.

*

Nyssa was dimly aware of a warmth somewhere her stomach.

As she dwelled on this thought, it occurred to her that she was not alone.

Tegan’s arms were around Nyssa, and their lips were pressed against each other.

The Australian was soft and gentle against Nyssa’s mouth, and their legs were intertwined, arms laced behind the others backs. Tegan seemed to be sat in Nyssa’s lap, and their nightdresses were hanging loosely from their shoulders, although Nyssa didn’t remember undoing the front of hers.  

Nyssa’s heart swelled to bursting point, and her brain whirled as she tried to understand what was happening.

‘Nyssa…’

Nyssa blinked and, with a shock, she realised that Tegan was no longer wearing her nightdress, even though Nyssa could have sworn that she had been wearing it barely a few seconds before.

‘Nyssa…’ the Australian breathed, huskily. ‘I’m ready for you…’

Nyssa found herself quite unable to tear her eyes away from the woman in front of her. Tegan sat, quite comfortably, in Nyssa’s lap, and Nyssa was suddenly struck by the realisation that she was also no longer wearing her night-things. The Trakenite felt heat pool between her legs, drifting downwards from below her stomach. The combination of her close proximity to Tegan and the lack of any clothing between them was… well, Nyssa exactly what it was, and the Australian clearly did too.

With a gentle giggle, Tegan leaned backwards, landing softly on the mattress, and pulling Nyssa with her.

Tegan’s neck extended as she lay down fully, wrapping her hands around Nyssa’s back, and Nyssa leaned forward, feeling her teeth extend. As the older woman gave a soft moan, Nyssa’s fangs sunk into the gentle flesh of Tegan’s-

No!

Nyssa awoke with a start.

Her body felt it was on fire. She could feel every pore of her skin covered in sweat. Outside, the storm continued, with clashes of thunder and lightning every few seconds, and the rain pounded against the windows.

Gasping, Nyssa sat up in bed, throwing the covers off and hoisting the four-poster curtains aside. That was not a normal dream! While she had dreamt of Tegan before, both of them had always been fully clothed before, and certainly there had never been any biting involved. Good grief, the… the way that the two of them had…

Had she really dreamed about biting Tegan on her… on her…

Nyssa felt her face flush.

She turned up the flame in the lantern, and took a large mouthful of water from the glass on the bedside table.

‘Nys?’

Slowly, Nyssa turned to look at the woman lying next to her. Tegan looked beautiful in the soft light of the lantern, and the Australian was staring at Nyssa with concern. Nyssa ignored the way that the soft fabric of the nightdress hung off of Tegan, and the way her hair was now adorably bed-rumpled. It really wasn’t fair, Nyssa thought, butterflies dancing in her stomach.

‘You okay?’ Tegan asked, leveraging herself up on her elbow.

Nyssa nodded, and swallowed the water. She turned back to Tegan, who put her hand out to rest on Nyssa’s arm.

‘I… I had a rather strange dream.’

‘Not surprising, given where we are right now,’ Tegan said, softly. ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you…’

Nyssa put her arms around Tegan, and rested her head on the Australian’s shoulder, letting out a sigh.

‘Oh, Tegan…’ she breathed. ‘I… oh, I don’t know how to explain it.’

‘You’re smart as anything, Nys; I’m sure you can.’

‘No,’ Nyssa sighed, before taking her head off Tegan’s shoulders and looking her friend directly in the face. When would she ever get a chance like this again? ‘Unless… unless it’s a common platonic Earthling practice to dream about kissing your best friend.’

The effect was instantaneous. Tegan’s whole body went rigid, and her hand on Nyssa’s arm froze. In the half-light of the room, Nyssa saw the Australian’s eyes widen, and her mouth half-open.

‘P-pretty sure it isn’t, Nys.’

Tegan’s eyes then flicked down and away, and Nyssa felt her heart ache again.

‘Tegan, you’re doing it again.’

‘Doing what again?’ Tegan asked, still resolutely looking down at her lap. ‘C’mon, let’s get back to sleep-’

‘Tegan! Will you just… look at me, please?’

The Australian looked up at the sound of her earnest tone, and Nyssa fixed Tegan with a pleading stare.

‘Nyssa?’

‘We’re sharing a bed together, I’ve got my arms around you, I just admitted that I dreamt about kissing you, I can hear your pulse accelerating and you… you…’

Tegan began to look away again, but Nyssa gripped her tightly.

‘Tegan, stop…’ Nyssa whispered, softly. ‘Please… whenever I try and make my feelings clear, you always pull away…’

The Australian froze.

‘N-Nyssa, what do you mean?’

‘Tegan, I… do you really not see how much I care for you?’ Nyssa said, feeling tears already forming in her eyes as she moved to stare at Tegan. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at me-’

‘W-what?’ Tegan exclaimed, face suddenly flushing. ‘You… you know?’

‘Tegan, of course I know; I have eyes!’ -Nyssa’s cheeks were now streaked with tears- ‘It’s the same way that I look at you, for Traken’s sake! I know that your time period insists that the way you love is shameful, but it isn’t, Tegan! It isn’t! And I’m sick of you hating yourself for something that is so… so wonderful!’

Tegan was staring at her, eyes wide and mouth open.

‘Nyssa…’

‘Can’t you let yourself be happy? P-please?’

Tears began to slowly drip the Australian’s cheeks, and she wrapped her arms around Nyssa, one hand on the back of her head. The two women pulled tight together. Tegan cradled Nyssa to her, as if terrified to be parted from her.

‘Oh, N-Nyssa…’ Tegan sobbed. ‘Oh… oh, god…’

‘It’s okay…’ Nyssa replied, tears still sliding down her own face. ‘Oh, Tegan…’

The two women cradled each other for a while, softly murmuring each other’s names, drawing comfort from the presence and care of the other. The only other sounds they could hear was the pounding of rain against the windows, and the claps of thunder and lightning outside.

‘Sweet Tegan,’ Nyssa said, once both their tears had stopped falling. She cupped Tegan’s cheek with her hand. ‘I… I didn’t know that your culture was so… unkind. I was so horrified when I discovered the full extent of it.’

‘I… I didn’t want to bring it up,’ Tegan mumbled, miserably. ‘That I felt something more for you. Thought I was just hoping for something impossible.’

‘Never. Tegan, I’ve adored you from the moment we first. You remember, back on Logopolis? I thought you got all flustered when we shared that bed on Castrovalva but… you always avoided talking about it. I understand now that you thought it was… wrong somehow. I’m… I’m sorry if I ever tried to push you when you weren’t ready.’

‘I am ready,’ Tegan said. ‘I… oh, Nyssa; I’ve adored you since then too. Thought I was losing my mind when the Doc left me at Heathrow; it was as if I’d lost you forever.’

‘You didn’t,’ Nyssa said, before pressing a gentle kiss to Tegan’s cheek. ‘Oh, my darling…’

Their eyes met.

There was a peck of lips against lips. The two women giggled softly.

‘Wanted to do that for a long time,’ Tegan chuckled.

‘Me too. Oh, Tegan…’

Their lips met again, and this time it was far less chaste. Tegan’s hands began emmeshed in Nyssa’s hair, while Nyssa’s hands worked at the front of Tegan’s nightdress. A few seconds later, the material was loosened, and the nightie slipped off Tegan’s shoulder, exposing soft, tanned skin. The Australian gave an excited shiver as Nyssa’s hands began to explore.

‘Tegan…’ Nyssa breathed, voice husky. ‘I… I need…’

Tegan gazed at her, chest heaving under Nyssa’s wonderfully adept hands. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears.

‘W-what do you need?’

Nyssa stared at the woman in front of her.

The answer was obvious.

Nyssa leaned over, and laid her hands softly on Tegan’s shoulders, and pressed a kiss to Tegan’s neck. The shocked Australian gave an exclamation of shock, but was unable to resist the Trakenite as they fell together onto the mattress.

‘Tegan…’ Nyssa breathed, pressing kisses to Tegan’s neck. ‘Tegan… Tegan…’

The Australian stifled a moan. Nyssa’s hands began to roam again, one slipping down her side while the other became emmeshed in Tegan’s hair.  

‘Nyssa…’ she gasped. ‘I… are you sure…’

‘There… is… no… shame… in… this,’ Nyssa breathed, punctuating each word with a kiss against the older woman’s neck and shoulders. ‘Tegan… let… yourself… be… happy…’

‘Nyssa… I…’

‘So hungry…’ Nyssa said, with a moan. ‘Oh, Tegan, I’m so hungry… why am I so hungry…’

There was a crash of thunder, and lightning struck, illuminating the room.

Nyssa’s mouth arched open, and the Trakenite gave a husky growl.

Oh… Tegan thought, feeling her thighs tremble. Oh… oh god…

Before Tegan’s mesmerised eyes, Nyssa’s canines began to lengthen, growing larger and larger until they resembled fangs.

‘Nyssa?’

‘Tegan…’ Nyssa breathed, huskily. Her eyes were alight with adoration, and her hands were as gentle as silk against Tegan’s skin. ‘Oh, Tegan…’

Tegan’s heart ached. Trembling with anticipation, she reached forward and intertwined her fingers with Nyssa’s. The warmth between her legs was growing stronger by the second, sending fire throughout her body and causing her heartrate to accelerate further.

‘Nyssa, what do you want?’

‘I…Tegan… I… I want…’

It didn’t really need to be said.

Tegan swallowed, and then nodded. She pulled her head upwards, extending her neck. Nyssa’s eyes widened, and her hand squeezed Tegan’s fingers.  

‘But… Tegan…’

‘It’s okay,’ Tegan said, voice raspy. ‘Please… I want you to…’

Nyssa slowly bent down, pressing kisses to Tegan’s jaw line and slowly working her way down. Her other hand cupped Tegan’s hip, fingers pressing into the soft flesh under the nightdress. The Trakenite gave a moan against Tegan’s skin, as her mouth continued its exploration. Down she went, pressing kisses and breathing Tegan’s name like a mantra.

Slowly, pressing one last kiss to Tegan’s jawline, Nyssa pulled back slightly, and her other hand slipped up Tegan’s side, to finally rest on her neck. Her touch was gentle beyond comparison, with barely any weight to the gesture at all.

Nyssa’s fangs glinted in the half-light given by the lantern.

Tegan nodded, shivering with anticipation, and her eyes fluttered shut.

Nyssa gave a deep husky growl, and Tegan felt her move.

As the teeth broke gently through Tegan’s skin, the Australian’s head gave an involuntary jolt. A low moan escaped from her mouth, and Tegan’s back arched in ecstasy, Nyssa’s hands now slipping around her to support her, one slipping down to the small of her back; the sensation did little to reduce Tegan’s exhilaration.  

‘O-oh, god…’ Tegan gasped, feeling her toes curl. Her hands gripped the back of Nyssa’s nightie, and the ecstasy became stronger with the feeling of Nyssa’s skin against her own. ‘N-Nyssa… oh, god…’

Nyssa responded with another growl, her mouth warm against Tegan’s skin. Tegan felt her skin tingle deliciously as Nyssa began to suck. Ooh…

Tegan took a heavy breath, and lay back down on the mattress, feeling her heartrate begin to calm. That had been… good grief…

She raised a hand to her brow and wiped the sweat away. Her other hand rested softly against Nyssa’s curls, as the Trakenite slowly removed her fangs from Tegan’s skin. It was only at that moment that Tegan realised that Nyssa had bitten down on… well, it was a little lower than her neck, that was for sure. She supposed that her scrambled brain hadn’t been able to process exactly where on her body that Nyssa’s mouth had landed on. She didn’t seem to be bleeding that much, and it certainly didn’t hurt.

Oh, she could get used to this.

Nyssa’s head pulled away, and Tegan’s hand dropped down onto the mattress.

The Australian opened her eyes.

Nyssa was sat up on the bed. Her own nightdress was now loosened around the front, and the sight of Nyssa’s long curly hair dangling gently against her pale skin was mesmerising. Blood began to drip down her face and neck, staining the nightie a dark red. Her eyes were hungrily trained on Tegan. The Australian gave an enticed shiver, reaching for the spot where Nyssa’s fangs had broken through the skin. It did hurt slightly to touch.

However, as Tegan looked back up, Nyssa blinked and gave a sob.

‘Nys?’

Tegan sat up, and scooted closer, cupping Nyssa’s cheek with her hand. The Trakenites fangs had shrunk somewhat but were still visible, the ends dripping with Tegan’s blood.

‘I… I hurt you…’ Nyssa quavered, and Tegan was horrified to see self-loathing in the Trakenites eyes. ‘I… I’m so sorry, Tegan… I’m a monster…’

‘Nyssa, no,’ Tegan urged, leaning forwards. ‘You’re not a monster. C’mere, don’t worry, let me-’

‘N-no!’

Nyssa scrambled off the bed, almost in a panic, her eyes wide and fearful. Tegan had never seen the young woman so terrified.

‘Y-you need to stay away from me, Tegan,’ the Trakenite sobbed, trembling. ‘P-please, I… I don’t know what’s happening to me and I… I…’

‘Nyssa!’ Tegan exclaimed. ‘You haven’t hurt me, and I was fine with you biting me regardless; please, it’s okay.’

Nyssa’s eyes flickered and, a few moments later, the young woman rose a few feet off the floor. Her nightdress billowed slightly below her, as if caught in a wind. Tegan stared at her, mouth hanging open in shocked mesmerisation. 

‘G-goodbye, Tegan,’ Nyssa said, tears still streaking down her cheeks.

‘Nyssa!’

Fleeing from Tegan’s outstretched arm, the Trakenite turned in mid-air and surged through the window with a crash of glass, disappearing into the horrific maelstrom of the storm outside.

~~~~~~~~~

Dun-dun-dun!

My apologies; you all know how much I love a good cliff-hanger! Hope you enjoyed the chapter despite that; stay tuned!

[k1ng-sp0t]

The World Will Know; Chapter 1 (Not full thing, just beginning)

Four years ago, Senior High School year for Race and Spot

Spot sat in the meeting, bored out of their mind. Spot was new here, he barely knew anyone, hell, even where to go. He sat on the floor eying a guy up ahead, laughing with some friends. As he gets up, they walked in their direction, eyes on the ground, scared to make eye contact. Suddenly, he feels a hand grab his shoulder. “Hey, I really likes yer hair!” The hypnotic voice urges Spot to turn around, awestruck by this guys face. “Uh.. Thanks! Yer hair is really nice!” Spot manages to get out. “My name’s Anthony, by the way! Everyone calls me Race though, and it definitely ain’t because my family forgot me at the horse race once!” Race chuckled. Goddamnit, either kill me or kiss me. “Spot. I’ll see you around?” “Definitely!” Race says. Man, those eyes. Those lips, goddamn, that voice. Spot walked to class, unable to get that face out of his mind. 

Spot looks at his phone, unsure if this is the right place. Seems like a theatre, yeah, ya know, that’s what the sign says, but what if there are multiple. Then he hears that fucking voice. “Spot!!” Spot turns around, with no surprise to see Race there. Of course he’s a goddamn theatre kid. “Hey Race. How ya doin’?” “God, I had the worst math class right before this. I ain’t able to stand another word about division.  But what about ya?” “Eh. English, ya know?” Spot has this specific look of disdain on his face. “So, I’m in the right place?” “Yup!” Race chirped, “C’mon!” Race grabbed Spots arm and dragged him in. A light blush spread across Spots face before entering the dark room. A familiar warmth enveloped him, the joy of past shows, even in a new place and with new people, echoed within him. “Hey! Hey! Medda! I gots us a new one!” Race waves over the teacher. “Ah, Spot!” Spot nodded. “Race… Medda is my homeroom teacher.” Race flushed, absolutely upset. “Sorry Spot, thought I could be helpful…” Man, this boy, I just want to kiss him. “Hey hey, it’s alright Race! Ain’t the first time someone’s done something like this!” Spot smiled at Race, and Race looked back at him, smiling slightly. 

Modern Day, Junior year college

Spot woke up, next to Race. Spot smiled, still thinking about his dream, and how much he and Race have grown since then. Not even just as people, but with each other. Four years ago Spot couldn’t have said the word gay without whispering, and now the two of them have a gay pride flag above their bed. Four years ago, if he told someone they were trans, fae would have a panic attack about the intensity of Pompeii (Oh god, that dreams bringing him back to high school history). He looked down at Race again. Race was all sprawled out on the bed, dreaming away peacefully, mumbling occasionally. Spot picked up his phone and gasped before covering his mouth. “Oh my lord. How could I forget?” He mumbled under his breath. He gave Race a little peck on the forehead before heading to the kitchen. It was Race’s birthday. Fae had baked a cake last night before going to bed, and took it out of the fridge. The words “Happy Birthday Racer, my love” were messily put on the cake. God, why do I have to be so bad at icing… Spot thought before pouring a glass of orange juice, and preparing coffee just the way Race liked it. A latte with vanilla syrup and three spoons of sugar. Spot smiled, Hey, at least his coffee is as sweet as him. Of course Spot would never let Race know what he thought about him in as much detail as he knew, but it was good to let it show once at a time. He trimmed the flowers in the window, grabbing the roses and some lavender for Race. Race dealt with so much stress, so Spot started growing some lavender to make him tea, oils, and baked goods. He put the cake, coffee, and orange juice on a platter. He went back into the bedroom and gave Race some kisses on his forehead. “Hey Doll, why dont’cha wake up?” Race groaned, “Ahh, but warmth…” “Yea, but what about coffee?” Race snapped up. “Coffee? AND CAKE?” Spot chuckled. “Of course darlin’, I ain’t gonna do nothin for yer birthday!” Race blinked. “My birthday?” Spot laughed, “Yea, yer birthday!” “God, why is my birthday on a weekday, I don’t want to go to school…” Race whined. “Exactly love, that’s why I got plans for us today.” Race hugged Spot, “You’re amazin’ doll, I could never ask for better boyfriend!” 

Later that day, at the Betsy Head Park

Spot had a picnic planned that day for Race, and got a bee blanket, PB and J’s, as well as some more flowers and of course, coffee. “Spottie, how come I got such an amazin’ boyfriend?” Race asked. Spot chuckled, covering his face. “I don’t know… Hmmmm… it ain’t because a handsome boy came up to me one day and said he liked my hair, and I became absolutely obsessed and he helped me in a new school and then now he pretends like he’s absolute garbage.” “Hey, I ain’t absolute garbage… I’m absolute trash!” Race chuckled. “Oh Racey, you ain’t trash, or garbage! Yer so pretty, and I absolute adore you.” Spot held Race’s face, and gave him a kiss. Race chuckled and said “Hey, just like our first kiss! Ya bout to say ‘Whoa!’ again?” Spot laughed, “Racey, ya know that ya literally held mistletoe up and then kissed me? Of course I’d say ‘Whoa’, look at ya!” Spots phone started ringing, and Race picked it up. “Hey, it’s Jack!” Race answered, “Jackie boy!” Davey appeared on the screen, “Hey, only I can call him that!” Jack chuckled, and gave Davey a kiss. “Happy birthday Race! Can’t believe it, yer so old! 21… Jeez, when do you go to a retirement home again?” Race frowned, “Hey, yer 21 too!” Davey laughed and said “Haha! Spot’s still the youngest!” Spot gasped “Hey dumbass, ain’t my fault!! I wish I came out when I was supposed to!” Race gave him a kiss and said “I know doll, I know…”  “Davey, ya know Spot’s sensitive that he’s small! And yer only 9 days younger than them!” Jack said. “Thank ya Jack. See Davey, not everyone is mean about me being tiny!” Jack laughed, “Anyway, I won’t interrupt yer date no more, happy birthday Race, I got ya some cigars when I see ya next. They’s Coronas!” Race gasped “Oh my god, why didn’t I get with you?” Everyone chuckled. “Okay, see ya tomorrow you two!” Spot said. They hung up, and Race lay down. Spot lay down next to him. “Good birthday so far?” “Any day with you is a good day.”

9 pm, back at the apartment

Race heard a knock at the door, and got it as Spot was in the shower. “Makin’ me walk on my birthday… Shame on him…” Race joked. They opened the door to see Crutchie and Elmer. “Crutchie! Elms! How are yers?” “We’re good! Happy birthday Race!” Elmer said. “Come on in! Spot’s in the shower but should be out soon.” The rush of water stopped right after they said that. Spot walked out, towel around waist. “Crutch! Elmer! So sorry, lemme at least get pants on!” Spot laughed. He went into the bedroom and changed. Race turned back to the two and sighed, “God, I love my boyfriend, he’s so hot.” Elmer laughed, “It’s very true, but so’s Finch…” Crutchie laughed “Elms, ya gotta either get him, or get over him.” “I know, but I get all stuttery and I switch back to Polish when I see him and-” Crutchie hugged Elmer. “I know, it’ll be okay!” Spot came back in. “How ‘bout some dinner? We have some left over Pad Thai!” Elmer gaped, “Oh my god, yes! Lord, if only Specs were here, he’d go feral!” Spot and Race laughed, and Race said “There’s a reason we only make this when Specs ain’t here, otherwise there’s none for anyone else!”

11 pm, in Spot and Race’s bedroom

Spot cuddled up into Race and looked at him. “Good birthday?” “Absolutely doll. You make it great every year, just wait till yours!” Spot gasped “Oh, god please no, just get me a fun rock.” They chuckled, and settled down as they fell asleep.

[cyanophore-fiction]

The Thing From Above

Soft sand broke its fall, and the thing from above came to rest in a crater of half-molten glass. The material was soft, still glowing with heat, comfortably molded around its crystalline exoskeleton. Over the sizzle of the cooling glass, it could hear waves crashing.

Earth, then. Somewhere coastal. Reascension wouldn’t be viable for the moment, not this deep down the well. Sidelined.

In its exhaustion, it allowed itself some rest. The sun crept down in the sky until it passed out of view, past the lip of its crater. Warmth took some of the ache out of its limbs, and it contemplated sleep until water began to splash over the edge and pool around it. Instead, it wrenched its talons free, shattering the mold around itself with a rain of shards, and sat up.

“You movin’ down there?”

Either a human’s voice, or a very good mimicry. Sluggish, syllables lurching through heavy air, shaped by soft tissues and teeth. The thing smiled as it rose to its feet.

“Yes,” it answered, forgetting itself. There was a yelp of shock, and it turned to see its visitor hunched over in a folding camp chair, hands clapped over his ears. It silenced its empyrean voice and instead felt around for the atrophied vocal organs in its throat.

“I ap-ol-o-gize,” it said, croaking its way through the words. The Truth allowed it to feel the shape of the human’s language well enough, but physically rendering it posed a challenge.

“No, no, no, you’re fine,” said the man, eyes screwed up in pain. His skin shone with sweat and sunscreen, and a damp University of Florida t-shirt clung to his shoulders. At his side was an insulated lunchbox sitting on a Coleman stove, and a baseball cap shaded his face from the evening sun. “You, uh, angel, huh?”

It hesitated. As all questions do, it emerged from ignorance, but this one came from such deep ignorance that Truth couldn’t resolve the question without altering all that it rested on. The thing from above looked down on the human’s patchwork understanding and saw immediately how Truth would tear him apart. In this case, Truth demanded its own dilution so that the human wouldn’t be destroyed by its touch, but wouldn’t be deprived of it, either. The thing responded as best it could.

“I am,” it said. “And you?”

“Here to say hi. I’m, uh, pastor down at Living Lord.”

“I see. Wh-ere are we?”

“Little ways north of Sarasota.”

“Con-tin-ent?”

“America. Yeah, North America. Tide’s coming in, you should c’mon out of there.”

It nodded, planted its talons in the blackened glass and stepped up onto the beach. Towering above the man, a figure of nested geometries and shimmering crystal, it passed a surge of vibration through its exoskeleton and shook off the last of the glass slag.

“Hey, you’re looking okay. Lemme get this going for you,” he said, stooping to screw a propane tank into the stove.

“What have you brought?” By degrees, the language was growing easier to render.

“An offering. For the Lord, of course, but for you, too, if you want some.” From the lunchbox, he pulled a ziplock bag of flour and a bottle of olive oil. “Don’t know if it’s up to Leviticus, but I hope it works.”

The thing smiled as Truth revealed the nature of the ritual to it. Decontextualized, reconstructed through translation, bristling with imperfections and leaking simple, kindly intent from every seam. Soon, smoke began to rise from the stove, and salty wind bathed its body in that intent. A pleasing aroma. The last of its pain melted away.

“How’s that?”

“Helpful. Thank you for your kindness. Others must have fallen here?”

“Yeah, every so often. On the news sometimes. Something going on up there?”

This question was so broad that a simple ‘yes’ would satisfy Truth, but it would hardly be a meaningful answer. Was there any way to accurately, safely convey understanding to him?

“There is—fighting,” it said, carefully.

“Oh, God. A war?”

“I cannot say more. I wish I could.”

“No, I understand. Not meant to know.”

“For the moment.”