#i’m also not even sure how fully well a calf with a deformity like that could express many signs of pain stereotypical for these animals

[switch]

that two-faced calf currently still alive in louisiana is a sweet little thing but i’m just not sure how i feel about them opting to not euthanize, especially since she apparently still can’t even stand. even otherwise healthy calves that just don’t begin standing normally when they’re supposed to can be extremely difficult cases, letalone one with a complication like that. they say she doesn’t… seem to be in pain, but quality of life prognosis for the handful of cases of adult two-faced cows that do survive to adulthood is nearly undocumented since their presentation is so all over the place.

in general whenever debatable quality of life cases like this become a ‘story’ my first worry is always going to be that they’ll feel incentivized to drag out the animal’s life way past if it stops being humane to do so because of the incentive of it being a ‘story’ alone.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Leave Me Breathless

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 8x15!

Summary: After a fight to the death, Negan decides to take out his leftover adrenaline on an innocent bystander...and that innocent bystander is you. 

Characters: Negan x female reader

Words: 4,008

Author’s Note: Soooo I couldn’t get THIS idea out of my head, and I decided to try my hand at it. I was a bit shocked at myself, to find that this immediately went darker and dirtier than I had originally planned, but I’m pretty proud of it, even the parts that aren’t just smut. Here’s hoping y’all enjoy the ride ;)

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!!

Warnings: explicit smut, dubious consent, dominance/submission, fear kink, breath play/choking, knife kink, degradation/humiliation, a tiny moment of daddy kink, fluid play, death scene at the beginning, explicit language

Don’t say I didn’t warn ya ;)

Gif Credit goes to @hughxjackman

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

You watched in silent horror, along with the rest of the Sanctuary, as two men tussled in the middle of the large room. They hit into each other with a low thud, like two battering rams colliding. You gave a low gasp when the taller man decked your leader in the face, sending him spinning. He was only deterred for a moment, as he straightened himself and hauled off a punch of his own, fist connecting with his opponent’s chin with a loud crack.

 The two of them were growling and yelling like deranged beasts, a loud juxtaposition to the silent and still onlookers. You were in the front row, getting an up close and personal view of the testosterone-filled battle. You knew that this couldn’t end well...that only one of them would walk away as champion...only one would walk away alive. And yet, just like when one sees a car pile-up or a house on fire, you were unable to look away. You all stood silently and watched with bated breath, no one willing to make a noise or sudden movement that might draw the attention of the two men.

 The large Savior, Simon, was thick and muscled, and had started out with the upper hand when he threw the first punch without warning. However, Negan was lean and quick, and he had pure rage on his side. His eyes almost glowed with the fire of vengeance, as the desire to punish Simon for his insurrection pulsed through his body and fueled his brutal movements. When he threw Simon to the cement floor and climbed astride him, hands at his throat, you lifted your own hand to cover your mouth, eyes wide as saucers as you watched his fingers tighten on the larger man’s windpipe. Spittle flew from his mouth, as Negan furiously accused Simon of being disloyal, his hands never wavering from the other man’s throat. You weren’t fully able to register what he was saying, your head full of a loud buzzing noise, as disbelief and morbid fascination caused goosebumps to erupt across your flesh.  

 You had never thought about what death would sound like. Sure, you’d seen plenty of walkers, even seen plenty of dead bodies...mangled bodies...bloated and deformed bodies. But you’d never actually seen the life leave someone, never considered that it would have a sound.

 That sound was the crunch of a windpipe collapsing, the sigh of a final breath being squeezed between now-still lips. It was followed by the sneer of victory, of heavy boots thumping against concrete as the victor regained his feet, a muttered growl of “asshole” leaving his lips and echoing around the large space.

 Coolness trickled down your cheek, and you realized that it was from the trail of a tear. That you were still standing there in shock, along with the others, waiting for orders. How did one react, after a display such as that? Did you applaud? Drop to your knees? Silently pray you weren’t next?

 As if he could hear the whir of thoughts racing through your head, hazel eyes lifted and locked onto yours from a distance of mere feet. They took in your hand-covered mouth, the shock and the fear, and maybe even a touch of awe, that coated your face. They trailed down and took in your form, encased in snug jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers that had seen more than their fair share of miles. Something flickered in that gaze, as if a decision had been made, and he stepped in your direction.

 You felt a rush of air, as those on your left and right scooted over, as whoever was behind you backed up. The hunter had sighted his prey, and the others parted like the Red Sea, willing to sacrifice you if it meant that they were safe from his grasp.

 Calloused fingers wrapped around the wrist at your face, warm and unresisting. He started for the exit, practically dragging you behind him, feet fumbling as you tried to figure out how to walk with legs that had been reduced to the consistency of Jell-O. You glanced around at the mass of faces watching blankly, some with eyes trained on the floor, not one of them willing to raise a muscle or even shift in your direction. You walked past Arat, who was standing next to the doorway leading out of the vast room. Her eyes connected with yours for an extended moment, and she gave an imperceptible nod. Whether or not it was meant to be a reassurance or a warning, you had no clue.

 Head dizzy with fear and uncertainty, you struggled to keep up with Negan’s fast pace, as he pulled you down the nearest hallway. He hesitated at the first open door on the right, before seeming to make up his mind that this space would do. He jerked you in front of him and through the doorway, pushing you into the middle of the room, which was dark and smelled faintly of bleach.

 A soft click followed by overhead brightness signaled that he had found the light switch. Squinting until your eyes adjusted, you realized that you were in a single stall bathroom.

 Alone.

 With Negan.

 And he had just closed and locked the door.

 Backing up a step towards the sink, dry lips struggled to form words, to say something, anything, oh god why did he bring you here?!

 Your dazed brain focused on random little details, such as the fresh blood that trailed into his eyebrow from a cut on his forehead. The dark bruises beginning to form on both cheeks, where he had been hit. The masculine hair sprinkled along the back of his left hand, juxtaposed with the smooth leather covering his right. Hands that had, mere minutes ago, crushed the life out of another man. An involuntary shudder ran up your spine at the thought, and he saw it, eyes lasered in on you, not missing a single detail of your reaction to him.

 His top lip curled up into a snarl, a morbid attempt at his usual arrogant smirk. Rather than appearing charming, he just looked deadly, like a wild animal. He started across the small space, stalking towards you so that you backed up further into the corner, until you hit cold porcelain and had nowhere else to go. The sink jutted into your lower back, as he stopped directly in front of you, his presence automatically causing you to lean away from him until your back was contorted into a C-shape.

 He still didn’t say a word, but his breathing was heavy, jaw clenched, and you were fairly confident that, in this moment, he was more than a bit unhinged. You weren’t sure if he wanted to fuck you or kill you, and the possibilities flaring in his demon-bright eyes made you tremble like a caught hare in front of a hungry wolf.

 A wolf that had just committed cold-blooded murder, fangs still dripping with the fresh blood, and was now trying to decide if you would be his next victim.

 You were terrified, fear like a cold bullet down your spine. However, deep in the pit of your stomach, there was also a little spark of recognition that flared to life. Whether it was a survival instinct, telling you to submit in order to avoid further harm, or whether it was true desire that had been festering in his direction for longer than you cared to admit, you weren’t sure. Hell, maybe it was both.

 All you knew was that, when he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck and jerked you up against him, your body went slack and willing. Lips collided hard enough to bruise, as he used his height and strength and masculinity to showcase his dominance over you.

 When his tongue thrust past your open lips, you tasted the faint tinge of blood, sharp and metallic, and weren’t sure if it was his or yours. His body crowded into you, hips pressing your back painfully into the sink, chest looming above yours, causing you to be so off balance that the only logical option was to cling to his shoulders. Or, at least, you’d later tell yourself it had been the only option...not that you had just wanted to.

 You gasped in aroused surprise when he jerked your shirt up to your armpits, then ripped the cups of your bra down, exposing your breasts to the cool air and his hot gaze. He gave a dark chuckle at the sight of your already-hardened nipples, before bending his head and taking one roughly between his teeth. You cried out at the sharp pleasure-pain sensation, completely overwhelmed by the realization that he fully planned to fuck you in this bathroom, and that there was nothing you could do to stop it.

 That you didn’t want to stop it.

 Warm flesh and cool leather at your stomach indicated that he was undoing your jeans, practically ripping the zipper in his haste to get the offending garment off. He pulled back a scant distance, in order to drag the denim down over your hips and thighs. He got one leg free, and abandoned the task, leaving the jeans to hang off your left calf and foot. You were about to try and kick them off yourself, but the pants were quickly forgotten when a sharp snick echoed in the tiled room.

 Hair stood up all over your body at the flash of a switchblade in Negan’s hand, and your vision became black and fuzzy at the edges when he brought it down towards your thighs.

 “Don’t move a fucking muscle,” he ordered, voice raspy with sex and authority.

 Holding a trembling breath, you had a moment where you thought this was it, that he had changed his mind, the scales tipping in favor of death over fucking. Eyes transfixed by the sharp metal, you watched as he used his gloved hand to pull one of your legs up and out, exposing your cunt. He slid the flat of the blade across your inner thigh, before delicately moving the tip underneath the crotch of your panties and pulling them out from your body, causing the elastic to strain.

 With one quick, deft movement, the knife cut through the fabric, smooth as butter. Fear morphed back into arousal, and you gave a low, desperate groan, wetness flooding your pussy from the heady rush of adrenaline. He then lifted the knife and did the same to the front of your bra, slicing through the fabric and leaving your body bare except for the t-shirt still bunched up under your chin and the jeans hooked over your foot. Disappointment filled your chest when he closed the knife and put it back in his pocket, followed by a low burn of shame that you had hoped he’d continue to tease you with it. That he’d run it back down your leg, digging in just enough to leave a thin red line, and mark you as his.

 You were shocked by your own thoughts, and especially that they were directed at a man who, frankly, you had tried to keep your distance from, up until this point. Sure, Negan was hot as hell, and had a commanding presence that drew women like moths to a flame, but he was also incredibly intimidating, with his violent dramatics and gaze that seemed to cut through all pretense and strip you down to the core. It had been so much easier to avoid him when necessary and keep to yourself and your duties.

 Well, all those months of staying out of sight had been in vain, because here you were, getting a front and center demonstration of the formidable authority that was Negan.

 The hand at your leg vanished, to be replaced at your waist, as he abruptly lifted you onto the sink and stepped between your thighs. Fear that it wouldn’t hold your weight was quickly forgotten by a leathered hand cupping your pussy. He gave a satisfied smile when your lips fell open with a needy moan, as he pushed two gloved fingers inside your wet heat.

 “That’s it, show daddy how much you want him to fuck you. Does the sight of blood and death turn you on, little girl?”

 You wanted to deny his claim, say that you weren’t like that, weren’t aroused by such morbid things...but the truth was staring you right in the face that maybe, just maybe, you actually were. Words were impossible, anyways, especially when he dropped the hand not in your cunt and started unbuckling his own pants. You should put an end to this, should ask him to stop and let you go back to your room, where things were safe. Instead, you gave a sharp cry of pleasure when he twisted his fingers inside of you at the same moment that he pulled his heavy, weeping cock out of his pants.

 Your thighs instinctively spread apart on the sink without your brain’s consent. You were mortified at how your traitorous body was reacting to his like a bitch in heat, but the prospect of having that thick cock inside of you, after so many months of feeling empty, was too tempting to resist.

 His fingers slid out of your cunt, making you whine in despair, the leather soaked and glistening with your desire. He trailed them up your stomach, leaving behind a line of shiny wetness, before lifting the digits up to your mouth with a command of, “Open.”

 Lips parting without hesitation, he pushed the same two fingers deep inside your mouth, grabbing the sides of your cheeks with his thumb and pinky, holding your head immobile. The abrupt intrusion caused you to gag slightly, but you swore that the reaction made his eyes flash with sadistic pleasure, and he didn’t loosen his hold. The tang of leather mixed with the sweet, musky taste of your own juices flooded your tongue, and you moaned around the makeshift finger gag. The parallel to when your own hand had been covering your mouth earlier was not lost on you, and the reminder of the fight raised your desire another notch.

 Eyes connected hotly to your own, he watched as your eyes widened and you twitched on the sink, at the feel of his hot cock nudging between your folds. Without further hesitation, he plunged inside of you with a quick, hard thrust that made you give a muffled scream around his fingers. Your pussy struggled to accommodate him, the sharp burn of your walls stretching around him signaling your body’s surrender.

 His ungloved hand was at your hip, fingers digging into your flesh with a steel grip that matched the one he had on your face. In fact, the press of his digits was so rough that you were certain there would later be bruises on your cheeks that echoed the ones on his own face.

 Pulling his hips back, he drove in deep, giving you no choice but to cling to the edges of the sink underneath you and let him do with your body as he wished. Nostrils flaring, he set up a brutal, fast pace, and the burning discomfort between your thighs soon morphed into a conflagration of pleasure. Whines and moans filtered out from your finger-stuffed mouth, as drool dribbled down your chin and onto your bunched-up shirt.

 His body pressed down into yours, the sink groaning in protest at your combined weight. The jeans must’ve fallen off your foot at some point, because it was bare when you lifted it to wrap around his still-clothed body. The hot, thick drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls had you arching up into him helplessly. Every nerve ending in your body was focused on the sensations happening between your legs and the building pressure that signaled your orgasm was on the horizon.

 “Is this what you wanted?” he growled in your ear, his panting breaths hot on the side of your throat. “Is this what you were fucking hoping for, when you watched me strangle that asshole?”

 You dimly realized that the expression on your face earlier, when the two men had been fighting, must’ve given away dark desires that you hadn’t even been aware you possessed. Somehow, Negan had taken one look at you and known your secret kinks, known that your panties had been uncomfortably wet while watching him beat and kill his traitorous second-in-command. He had seen his own bloodthirsty arousal reflected back at him in your gaze, and had decided to take advantage, without giving you a chance to think it through or say no.

 Before you could fully process this sexual self-awakening, the hand at your hip moved upwards over the front of your body. Long, warm fingers trailed up your chest, tweaking your nipples harshly before spreading out over your collarbone and wrapping lightly around the front of your throat. His hands at your mouth and throat pushed you backwards, until your head was pressed up against the cool surface of the mirror hanging over the sink.

 Your eyes widened with slight panic when the fingers tightened, pressing in on the sides of your neck in just the right way to cut off your flow of oxygen. Your hands flew up from the sink, wrapping around his wrist and forearm in a silent plea for air, which he denied.

 “What’s the matter, doll? Since you fucking enjoyed watching earlier, I figured I’d give you a little fucking taste of what you missed out on.”

 Shame flooded your body when his words caused your pussy to clench around his cock. Giving a deep groan at your reaction, he growled, “Jesus fuck, squeeze my dick like that again.”

 He then loosened the fingers at your throat, causing you to suck in air as best you could through your nose, since his fingers were still jammed in your mouth. You barely got two breaths in before he cut off your air again, and got what he wanted in the form of your cunt tightening spasmodically around him.

 Glancing down the front of your body, you watched, dazed and a little panicked, at the sight of his thick cock slamming into your cunt. Every time he pulled back, you could see the thick, white arousal from your pussy coating his dick, proof that you were enjoying his special brand of humiliation. You started to time your breaths to his thrusts, counting as he cut off your air for one two three four five six seven eight thrusts before letting you breathe for one two three four thrusts, then starting the cycle all over again.

 You clawed at his wrist with sharp nails, but weren’t sure if it was because you wanted him to stop or were wordlessly begging for him to keep going. You looked up at his face, his jaw clenched tight and sweat dripping down his temples. The thought hit that this was the last thing Simon had seen, that the same hands wrapped around your throat and in your mouth had taken the life of a man not even half an hour earlier. That they were capable of doing the same thing to you, if he so wished. Rather than smack you back to reality, the thought caused a hot spark of fear that only served to further fuel your body’s frenzied arousal.

 You weren’t supposed to like this. You should be horrified at the situation, struggling to free your throat from his grasp or biting down on his fingers to make him let go. You shouldn't be thriving off his brutal thrusts and humiliating dominance, shouldn’t be arching up into him, desperately pleading with him for more. You shouldn’t, but you were; begging in muffled, garbled whimpers for him to go harder. Faster. Harder. Faster harder deeper, oh please, yes, right there!

 You thrived off the pain and degradation, as he plunged inside you so harshly that it caused a sharp ache with each deep thrust. And it was when he cut off your air again, with a whispered command of, “Come on my fucking dick. Right. Fucking. Now.,” that your body finally hit the precipice and flew over the edge.

 Your spine went rigid with tension, back arching underneath him, before your orgasm released in a pulsating wave that sent you soaring up above the bathroom, above the Sanctuary, and exploded you out into the universe. The sheer force of the pleasure was terrifying, rattling your bones and making you feel as if you might black out. He relaxed his grip on your throat with a groan, jerking his hips sharply as he found his own release inside you. The black spots in your vision started to clear, as blessed oxygen filled your lungs, the same way that his hot cum was filling your cunt. His body twitched involuntarily and he gave a gasped, “fuck,” before stilling above you.

 Lifting his head, breathing still heavy and ragged, Negan scanned your face, as if looking for something. You weren’t sure what he saw, or what he found, but it made his lips tip up slightly on one side, in the smallest of smirks.

 Finally drawing his gloved fingers out of your mouth, you both watched as a thick string of saliva came with it, hanging in the air between his digits and your tongue, before breaking and splattering onto your chest. His fingers were soaked with drool, and he patted you on the cheek with them, before wiping the back of them across the bunched fabric of your t-shirt. Shame caused heat to flare in your cheeks, and it only intensified when he pulled his softening cock out of you, and you felt the warm trail of your combined cum trickle out of your pussy and down the crack of your ass.

 He looked down over your drool-smeared face and well-fucked body, eyes flaring when they reached the juncture of your thighs, which were still spread wide, as you reclined bonelessly on the sink. You couldn’t even find the energy to gasp when he trailed a finger up your sopping cunt, gathering a glob of fluids that he brought up to the light to inspect.

 You watched in awe as he brought the finger to his mouth, licking off the cum mixture with his tongue. He considered for a moment, before giving a hum of approval. He then shoved his cock back in his pants, zippered and buckled them, and ran a hair through his hair. And, just like that, he was once again presentable. Well, minus the sweat stain on the front of his shirt from his exertion and the glove that was sporting more wet spots than dry. Meanwhile, you still hadn’t moved from the sink, and looked as far away from presentable as was humanly possible.

 He seemed to enjoy that, because he gave your body one last look-over, as if committing each detail to memory, before throwing you an arrogant grin and wink, and turning towards the exit. With a soft click, the door shut behind him, and you were left alone in the cold, sterile bathroom. Finally sliding off the sink and onto shaky legs, there was nothing left to do but gather up the tatters of your panties and put back on the clothes that hadn’t been cut in half.

 Once dressed, you found that you didn’t want to leave, hand hesitating on the door knob. Walking outside this room meant that you had to step back into reality...meant acknowledging that this had really just happened. It also meant that you were going to have to cope with the fact that there was a whole new side of you that you hadn’t even been aware existed.

 A side that had loved every single second of what Negan had done to you in this room.

 A side that was already craving more.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Negan Tag List, Forever Tag List, and Peeps who specifically asked to be tagged in this one (bolded names wouldn’t tag): 

@hannibalssweaters @strangersangel9 @bamby0304 @mamapeterson @wheresthekillswitch @ericuhlorain @badsongwinchester @foofyschmoofer @magpiegirl80 @efeysa @peachtickler69 @supernaturally-lucky @favs-imagines @multireality @twdncgan @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @yuuki1000may @crzcorgi @rapsity @sunriserose1023 @breakfast-of-a-teenage-killer @heartfulloffandoms @superwholoki @winchesterswoonathon @is-this-you-manning-up-sammy @vizhi0n @kellyn1604 @embracetheapocalypsewithme @starshinesupergirl @noodlecupcakes @backseat-negan @opheliadawnwalker3 @superprincesspea @lucifers-trash-stash @squid-from-mirkwood @winmomomy @beltz2016 @tbkc @hausbolton @the--aviator @purplemuse @letsby @flamehairedwritings  @carleymartinez @ryangoslingstanktop @jasoncrouse @genevievedarcygranger @princessmoonspunky @cass-xxo @mwesterfeld1985 @sillykittyface @jmackie1983 @despoina-nt @negan--is--god @risingphoenix761 @majinbuuwithatan @megmeg-chan @wickednerdery @ne-gans @deathvalleyqueen @jobean12-blog @jeffreydeanneganstrash @negvnsbombshell @yedi16 @wonderstruckbyfandoms @satanssubmissive @ibelongtonegan @isayweallgetdrunk @shadesofarrogance @divadinag @ambthegamer @negan-is-daddy @jdm-organ

[boogiewrites]

Who We Were & Who We Are Now 5

Chapter 5

Characters: Forrest Bondurant x Tawny Barrett (OFC)

Word Count: 4600+

Summary: Tawny starts her job at the station. It brings up memories and feelings for both her and Forrest.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Gore? (Does a calf birth need a warning?)

A/N: Memories are in italics!

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist.

To say you were excited would be an understatement. So would saying you were thankful and relieved. Once again, the Bondurants being your secret saviors, giving you the means to care for Junior and yourself, and knowing you'd have someone with a reputation to protect you. You also weren't lying to yourself that getting to spend time with Forrest every day also made your heart swell and pitter patter for entirely different reasons.

It's like you timed it perfectly, he was unlocking the front door as you pull in.

"Looks like I brought the sun with me." you say with a pleasant soft smile, looking back down the road in the direction you'd come from, sun cresting over the mountains.

"Right on time Miss Tawny." he nods, his voice and grunt particularly deep in the morning.

"If nothing else, I am punctual." you shake your head and smile and raise your shoulders in support of his statement.

"You eat?" he asked with a subtle raise of his brow.

"Oh yeah, I got Junior up and fed and out doin' chores already." you say proudly, smoothing out your navy dress.

He nods and purses his lips in approval.

"I mean he'll prob take a nap while I'm out but long as he gets it done, I'll let him think he's gettin' one over on me." you laugh and make it to the top of the stairs next to him.

This gets a pulled back corner of his mouth in amusement from him, meeting your eyes so you know he means you to see it. Seems you already understood how to handle teenagers. He thought it was pretty damn impressive.

"More importantly have you eaten?" you say, shaking your chin up at him, a single fingertip gently touching his chest in punctuation. His eyes move to it, then back to yours, a smirk clear in them.

"MmmHmm." his eyes shift away, smirk still hanging on hips lips.

"Well then let's get started, shall we?" you say, putting your hands on your hips.

He nods and grunts, you follow him around the station.

You first walk around the property, and it's like stepping into a memory. The barn's still there, now another storage building, more cars than there were, but the place still felt the same. Maybe it was because you were with Forrest again.

He pushes back the door of the barn, motioning you to go on in, holding open the door with the same old brick you used to, it makes you smile. He explains what and where the vegetables and food are kept in, grunting and touching and lightly kicking wooden barrels that sat amongst the bales and farm equipment. Saddles and bridles, tools and leather hang and rest among the huge wooden posts and dusty rafters of the interior of the barn.

You turn and sit on a grouping of hay bales, your hands running lightly over the hay humming to yourself, an amused look on your face. Your expression warms him from the inside out. He knew you were thinking about those nights in the barn reading. He swallows and stands in wait, hands in his pockets, letting you have a moment. He hadn't seen your face this happy since you'd been back and he wasn't about to cut it short.

You thought about the late nights reading in this same spot, but that thought had quickly passed, looking over to a dairy cow in a stall, wasn't the same cow, but the memory makes your cheeks flush as you look over Forrest's masculine frame, simply waiting on you to move forward.

Now knowing what you did about mutations and deformities and why they happen, the memory no longer held any fear for you, but you do remember what happened afterward. ------ You knew Daisy was going to give birth any day now. So you kept going in the barn and checking on her throughout the day, the poor dear seemed distressed, so you stroked and cooed her swollen sides, hoping to ease any of the sweet beasts pain. You'd done all you could, going off to finish your work, the Bondurant parents weren't home and you weren't real sure where the boys were, but you had things to do.

When you come back, she's on her side, mooing and groaning, straining and pushing. You rush over, grabbing the heavy duty apron and tying it around your neck and waist. You slide on your gloves and grab a blanket off the gate. You shush her, the gesture only helping you as you reach in to check how she's coming along.

"Shit." you curse, shaking your head. The calf was breeched. Normally, you'd call for Mr. Bondurant for these sorts of things but you couldn't in this particular situation so you sit and wait, elbows on your bent knees, chewing your cheek and trying to figure out how you were going to get this calf out on your own. You knew if you let this go on too long it'd end very badly and you didn't know how long it had gone on already as you'd been out in the garden for hours. You hop up to grab the straps and chains, pushing over a heavy crate to rest your foot against to try to pull this baby out.

And you try. You try your damnedest. You've got the feet just out, strapping them up like you'd seen done before, you strain and groan just as much as poor Daisy does, and if you don't get this calf out soon you're gonna lose them both and you wouldn't want to be the reason the Bondurants lost their milk supply, and the calf that was supposed to double that eventually. You shout in anger, breath heaving and sweat making your hair stick to your face.

You give it another go, and you get maybe another inch along. You reach back into the cow, and you freeze.

"That ain't right." you whisper to yourself, your eyes going wide and your heart racing. You'd felt a breeched calf before and this wasn't that. You'd swear there were extra parts or something in there. You don't mean to but it makes you panic.

You let out a scared high pitched sound, trying to pull again and this time you scream from the effort.

He's rounding the house when he hears your scream. Dropping the crate he was carrying and running as fast as he could to the sound.

"TAWNY?!" you hear Forrest shout.

"FORREST! HELP ME!" you scream back.

He barrels into the barn, tripping and almost falling as he darts towards you.

"Something ain't right here, Forrest!" you say, your face pale and your voice scared.

He's trying to catch his breath, hands on his knees and bent over.

"Tawny, she's just breeched." he pants.

"Look." you bite, his eyebrows raise high on his face. "I know what a breeched calf feels like and this ain't that." you say with absolute certainty that he buys into fully. He raises and moves to inspect himself, grabbing the other gloves.

"Shit." he says softly, face looking much the same as yours did.

"See! I told you! Somethin' ain't right!" your voice now quieter but even more insistent.

"Sure as hell isn't." he says, brow furrowing and eyes darting around the barn. "Get these gloves off," he barks, yanking the long hard material down and off your hands. "Get the chain, I'll tighten this and we're gonna have to fuckin' pull." he orders.

He squats, foot against a load-bearing beam, you're on your feet, using your body weight to pull, arms overlapped and in total tandem without even meaning to. You both shout and groan and gasp, pulling with all your might. And a haunting sound you'll never forget, a scream from poor Daisy, when the calf, if that's what you could call it, comes out suddenly. You both fall backward, you on top of him, your back to his chest, his back hitting against a stack of crates with a crack.

When you see what you've pulled out your eyes grow to the size of saucers, your mouth drop open, lip trembling in fear. It was completely deformed. Half limbs growing from places they weren't supposed to and a partially inside out body, something you thought might only exist in hell. You gasp and turn immediately towards Forrest, your breathing still heaving, you stare at his chest, twisted in his lap.

"What in God's name is that Forrest?" you whisper, eventually meeting his eyes, but his were the same as yours, full of questions and fear.  

He gulps in response. In his shock he acts without thinking as he moves to protect you, arms pulling you close as you shake. "I don't reckon God had anything to do with this." he rasps out. "That's...I ain't never seen that before." he shakes his head back and forth slowly, eventually he can pull his eyes away from the bad omen and to you. "Are you alright?" he asks, his hand moving to push your hair from your face, moving it towards him.

"Is that my fault? Did I do something wrong? Oh God your daddy's gonna kill me." you whimper out, tears threatening to stream from your wild eyes. He can feel your breathing threatening to move too quickly and he takes your face in his hands.

"This ain't your fault, you hear? You didn't do this." he says, faces inches from yours.

"But I...I was the one that started pullin' I..." your lips shake and more tears fall, and he shushes you again.

"This ain't on you Tawny." he whispers. "Stop cryin'," he says with no demand to his tone, just a soft whisper. You try to end the tension in your body, you gulp and move your eyes back to his. "Please," he sounds desperate and it doesn't go unnoticed to you. You take in a shaky exhale, and rest your chest against his. "I can't stand seein' you cry." he barely gets the words loud enough for you to hear. You're hit with the weight of them.

How many times had he seen you cry? You didn't even know.

Your lashes flutter and you take a deep shaky exhale through pouted lips as he mirrors the action to support it.

"That's my girl, shhh. Ain't no reason to be scared." he says, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears from your flushed face.

"Forrest I-" he feels that tremor in your voice and stops you.

"Shhh."  he shakes his head as his lips pursed. "I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to ya, Tawny. Not never..." you gulp noisly and your eyes move to his pursed lips, far too close to yours. With the mix of teenage hormones, feelings unspoken and the adrenaline from fear and exertion his eyes move down to your mouth as you lick your lips, little puffs of breath escaping in tiny nervous moans. You consider it for just a moment. What would it be like to kiss a boy? What would it be like to kiss him? What would happen if you did?

You wanted to. In your naivety and inexperience, you don't know that he wants desperately to kiss you. But as fate decided, it was not the time for you to kiss Forrest Bondurant. As your head shoots to the side, Howard stomping into the barn after hearing all the commotion, effectively sending you back into a panicked state as you jumped up and darted to him, everything that had happened spilling out.

Forrest exhales loudly, hanging his head for his lack of courage to kiss you. He closes his eyes, back of his head hitting the crate behind him over and over in a reluctant punishment for squandering an opportunity like that. ----- "You remember that demon calf we pulled out together?" you eye narrowed as they move from the cow to him.

If you'd been any closer, and if the streams of sunlight coming through the cracks of the walls of the barn had lit him just right, you would've seen the tiniest of blush come to his face. He clears his throat. A grunt and a nod.

"I remember years later... readin' about birth defects and what not for school..." the corner of your mouth pulls back in recollection of a fond memory. "And finally realizin' what happened in a scientific way..." you shake your head at yourself. "Can't believe some of the wild speculatin' we did as to what happened. Just one simple mistake while it was formin'....can cause all that mess." you shrug and sigh. "Wish I would've known that then." you let out a huff of laugh and standing, dusting off the back of your dress. "Could've saved myself quite a few nightmares." your eyebrows raise and you frown just slightly.

"Old lady Wallace came 'round once word got out about it. Called it a bad omen." he says nodding, eyes on the ground. It wasn't too long after that day that you left. Then him and his parents got sick, then both his parents died. He wasn't typically inclined to believe such things, not now anyway, but he'd be damned if it wasn't one hell of a coincidence.

"I had that thought myself." your frown fades with your nod, you put your hands on your hips as you head back towards the reinforced doorway. You stop and wait for him as he shuts the door back. "Kind've a self-fulfilling prophecy though when you believe that sorta thing, huh?" you turn just your head to follow him as he walked past you.

He nods, his lips pressed in agreement. "That's a right smart way to put it."

"Ain't inclined to think that way much anymore now though." you muse, looking up at the sky while you follow him to the back door of the station. "No use in havin' fear about things you can't understand." you say thoughtfully, shrugging before you clasp your hands together in front of you.

God, he'd missed hearing you pour out all those odd thoughts in your head. And now they were eloquent and informed too. No longer just musing of a girl but wisdom from a woman. He lets a warm expression settle over his face since he was walking ahead of you. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed you. But then again, he hadn't really let himself think about it.

"What about things you do understand?" he retorts, wanting to hear you elaborate.

"Well, there ain't much that scares me nowadays." He hoped that was true. For both of your sake's.

"I've seen you scream over a moth gettin' caught in your hair before." the corner of his mouth pulling back, looking down at you as you pass him to walk into the station.

You stop, narrowed eyes, bright and playfully glaring at him from under your brow. "Yeah and I was just 8 years old." you let out another eye crinkling laugh. "You're still a smart ass I see." you give him a wicked grin, whispering and leaning in closer.

He shrugs his face and shoulders in acknowledgment.

"Can't believe you remember that!" you say with a loud laugh as you sway into the station.

He pulls the door shut behind him, walking down the short hallway and you're already behind the counter, having found an apron and tying it behind your back.

"Now I ain't braggin' but...I do have a good memory."

"Ya ain't gotta be modest on my account, Forrest." your posture straightens. "Speaking of, what should I call you while I'm working? I think I can manage to call ya boss or...Mr. Bondurant or somethin' if that's what ya'd prefer." your face is light and agreeable.

"Forrest's fine, Tawny, don't be silly."

"You got it boss." you say with a firm nod and a grin.

A smile appears on the corners of his lips at you, he grunts and looks away.

"How do ya like your coffee Forrest? I'll get some goin' first then I'll work on throwin' together a stew or somethin'. That alright?" you tilt your head as you fill the coffee pot.

"Black." he nods and blinks. "And sounds like you're back at home already here." he says, tipping his hat to you taking a step back.

"The familiarity doesn't hurt. " you shake your head with a small smile.

"Well I'm gonna be in the office," he says slowly, hand moving towards the open half glass door to the far side of the open space.

"If I get stuck on anything, you mind if I ask ya about it or you want not to be bothered?" your chin moves to your chest. Although he didn't feel it was needed between the two of you, he appreciated your thoughtfulness as to respecting the role of employee and employer.

"Ya ain't gonna bother me by askin' me questions 'bout your work." he meets your eyes, yours wide and his focused. "If I don't need bothered, I'll let ya know beforehand." he gives you a solid nod and you mirror the gesture.

"I'll bring ya coffe in in just a minute." you say as you turn after he does, watching the water start to trickle down.

He grunts and nods, raising a hand in acknowledgment before he saunters his way into the office. ----- "Mornin' Forrest!" you lilt out just like you have every day so far. And damned if the sound of you callin' his name all sweet wasn't the best part about his morning now. And just as every day since your first, you come in with an armful of wildflowers.

"I tried to get a bunch of yellow one's today," you announce proudly, beaming over the armful of blooms. "I thought they'd look really pretty with the blue walls." you say looking into the station before he pulls the door open for you.

"I leave the decoratin' to you, Miss Tawny." he gruffs out and nods. Since you'd started working there, coming in early and leaving late was something you'd done without one complaint. He remembers you not wanting to go home when you were younger, and with what he was assuming the source of that want being cold and dead in the ground, he wasn't sure what was motivating this behavior. Perhaps you really just were as hard of a worker as you always had been.

You had swept, dusted and scrubbed every bit of that place down since you'd been there. It looked like it'd been repainted after you'd gotten done with it. Even the advertisement tins and porcelains outside seemed to glean a little brighter since you'd become a part of the essential functioning of the place.

Howard had certainly loved having you around. He'd been in a better mood the past week than he had in months. He finally had someone to tell all his old glory days stories to that hadn't heard them so much already that they just shut him down before he even got to the good parts. Forrest sat at the table in the back corner a lot. You'd see him with his thinking face on, rough fingertips tapping against the ledger, counting to himself. You kept yourself busy, or rather the customers and maintenance of the place did. You didn't get a lot of chances to catch glances at Forrest, but he had been catching them of you. He'd watch you genuinely laugh at the stories Howard would tell you,  wrinkling your nose and swatting at the air in front of him when he'd get a bit too suggestive, a little too much wiggling of the eyebrows at you. You were certainly a lot more charming than you had been back then, he found it interesting as you wielded a certain power over folks it seemed. An ease to your words and actions now, all confident and sure of yourself. 

The customer's sure loved you. But most were all men so how could they not. You were the picture of perfection in your duties. You'd tend to the old-timers who just sat and drank and played cards all day. Same table, same old men, some old stories every day. They liked having you wait on them a little too much. He'd had to give them the old grunt and glare a few times when he'd hear the conversation turn to "If I were a younger man..." a few times.

You could tone down your accent and mix a real drink for any city folk that found their way in. You'd play it up for the old gosspin' women who liked to ask you one too many personal questions, playing coy and bashful to deter them. You'd brought a new life into the place, a feminine touch that it had sorely needed. And whether he wanted to fully admit it to himself, he needed that in his life too. -- "Here ya go, hun." you say softly, one hand on his shoulder, the other handing him a mug of steaming coffee, untucking the newspaper from under your arm and placing it on the small table next to his chair outside.

As usual, a deep grunt and nod in response.

"You mind if I have a cup out here with ya before I get started today?" you ask. Your voice sounds tired this morning. He'd noticed the change gradually, starting off like a spark plug at first and just slowly, maybe not noticeable to anyone who wasn't studying your behavior, started to get a bit lower every morning of that first week.

"No, go 'head." he says reaching and lifting a small wooden chair and sitting it on the other side of the table.

"Thanks, Forrest." you yawn before you take a sip of your drink.

"I hope you don't mind me askin' ya a personal question, Tawny." you move your face to meet his, eyes open to the invitation.

"No, I don't mind at all." you say softly.

"You...been sleepin' alright?" he asks, eyes narrowing and staying on yours.

Your eyelashes flutter, of course, he'd noticed. Never could hide anything from him, could you? "I.." you begin then stop, looking down at the rough wooden spool on its side that served as a table. You didn't know how to tell him that you felt like a child again when you left there and went home. That sleeping in the room was making you feel crazy. You'd been drinking to help yourself fall asleep at night, the memories just kept creeping into your thoughts. You were ashamed they were still influencing you. You had thought after Cliff died maybe you'd be at peace with the abuse of your childhood but that had been apparently rather stupid of you to think. "I have had trouble sleepin'...yeah." you let out a long sigh.

"I ain't workin' ya too hard or nothin' am I?" the sincerity in his voice warms your heart and he sees the subtle smile appear before you swing your tired eyes up to his.

"No you're not." you weakly shake your head. "I love workin' here. I'd stay here all the time if I could." the corner of your mouth raises before you take another drink.

"That sounds awful familiar Tawny." his voice is lower, almost scolding, but you aren't sure he means it to be. You think he just wants you to know he's serious.

"It feels awfully familiar too." you say, your face falling, looking into your blue and white speckled mug like it held any answers.

"Forgive me if I'm speakin' out of turn but, I know I never asked you 'bout nothin' that went on a home, because it weren't my business. Hell, I guess it still ain't now but...now's different." he pauses. You nod and it catches him off guard. "But it's just you and Junior there now. There ain't nothin'..." he leans in closer to get your attention. "Ya'll ain't havin' no trouble out there or nothin' are ya?" his voice is low again.

Oh your great protector, you swoon to yourself. You let the smile you keep for him show in a shadow of its usual self on your face.

"Nobody is givin' me any trouble, Forrest." you take another sip. "And what fool would with you lookin' after me?" the smile blooms more, and he's so thankful for its full appearance for his sake. --- Instead of his usual morning, he'd been a bit busy today. He'd been busy the night before too, taking care of some unsavory business. So yeah, he was tired and more than a little cranky. What he hadn't counted on was you picking up on it so easily.

"Here ya go, hun." you softly, a big plate of eggs, bacon, toast, and beans is laid in front of him.

His eyes swung up to yours.

"Put that book away before you go cross-eyed and eat somethin' please." you say with assertiveness but not dominance. "You ain't the only one that can tell when one of us ain't slept." you whisper. "You need to eat."

You slide another plate in front of Howard. "Bless you sweetheart." he purrs. You move to stand between them, a hand on each shoulder.

"Ain't nothin'. I figure takin' care of you boys is as much my job as takin' care of the station." you say with no sarcasm, you meant that. "We got anything I should know about on the agenda today?" you inquire sweetly, moving your face to Forrest who was finally sliding the plate in front of him and grabbing a fork.

"Nothing you should know about." he gruffs out.

You rub Forrest back for just a few seconds, a quick back and forth to try to soothe the beast. "Boy you are cranky today aren't you?" you huff out a laugh that Howard mirrors. "Maybe you need to go have a little cat nap at some point today, dear." you say with the same sweet and genuine tone, shaking your head as you move back to the counter.

"She's a real peach, ain't she?" Howard says, stuffing a sausage link into his mouth.

"Mmm." Forrest responds, tearing apart his toast and busting the yolk of his over easy eggs. Exactly how he liked them.

"Sure as hell can cook." he grumbles out between bites.

A grunt and a nod. Another bite of toast as he kept his eyes on the plate.

"And take care of your grumpy ass." he narrows his eyes at his younger brother who returns the expression, another grunt, this time of warning.

"You ain't gonna sit here, and lie to me about how much better this place is with her here, are ya? Hell, I ain't even seen you groan at no one since she's shown back up." Howard always thought Forrest had been sweet on you when ya'll were kids, but he'd never admitted it. Least not to him anyway.

He keeps the same look of warning and groans at Howard.

"Alright smart ass." he rolls his eyes. "But you gotta admit...it feels right...her being here don't it? That ain't just me? Everyone that comes in here seems to like her, that's for sure. Certainly the prettiest thing in here." he says with a quiet huff of a laugh.

"It's like she never shoulda left in the first place." he finally gruffs out.

Howard can hear the bitterness in his brother's voice. A closed mouth smile grows across Howard's face.

"There ya are brother. First steps admittin' there's a problem, ain't it?" he says, giving his arm a solid thud of a smack to be supportive of him at least acknowledging, and finally after all these years, that he thought you should've stayed.

Chapter 6

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