#terry and his 3 men

[rosie-tyler]

Which could mean nothing

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 4

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.9K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), fluff, P in V, oral (female receiving), spanking, Dom!Terry *if you squint*

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

knock knock knock

I rolled over in Terry's bed to find his side empty. I leaned up from the comfort of his pillows and sat quietly for a minute as a quick form of meditation. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. My body felt a little restless. I yawned while stretching my arms and legs. I could hear voices coming from the front room. Lifting the covers from my legs, I slid out of the bed. I walked towards the bathroom. As I walked in I noticed multiple hygiene products, towels, and a fresh set of clothes had been left out.

Terry had to be one of the most thoughtful men I had ever met. It was the little things that added up for me when it came to him. His ability to effortlessly indulge in my humor— his ability to stimulate my mind and body in the most exhilarating ways, his dominant yet caring demeanor, his small gestures of kindness and consideration, etc. I was in awe of everything about him.

Last night, we talked and talked. Some conversations were harder than others, but certain moments made the night feel like taking a deep breath. Terry's aura was so refreshing and calming. I had never expected that level of vulnerability from him. He was open and honest, and every question I asked was answered. What would have been another night of me crying and drinking my pain away turned into a comforting moment with a — “friend”. Even though I did most of the talking, we shared personal stories and even talked about our dreams. It was as if we were both coming undone the more we talked— layer by layer.

Finishing up in the bathroom, I cleaned up my mess and placed my used towels in his laundry hamper. I walked out of the bathroom and returned to the bed. As I stood there, my impulsive thoughts got the best of me. I needed to make the bed—not because I slept in it but because I had to show my “value and worth.” I hated that my mother instilled those kinds of values into me. I always felt like I had to please people to be worthy.

As I was fluffing the pillows, the bedroom door opened. “Havana,” Terry whispered while entering the bedroom. “Yes?” I said turning to face him. I was standing near the bottom of the bed. “Glad you're awake. I made breakf—. Hey, you didn't have to make the bed,” he said walking up to me. “I know. It just seemed like the right thing to do as a thank you for last night,” I said smiling up at him. “Yeah, I think both of us needed last night. Thank you, mama,” he said kissing my forehead.

Terry reached out and grabbed my hand. He positioned himself behind me to lead me out of the room. “You rushing me out?” I giggled. Upon entering the front room, I could hear Terry sigh deeply. His hand felt warm to the touch and slightly damp. I could feel Terry’s chest rising against my back and hear every breath he took. Was Terry— nervous?

As he pulled me into the kitchen, I saw it. There wasn't only breakfast set up but a large bouquet of red roses resting on the island. I tried to stop walking. Terry gently nudged me the rest of the way. He leaned over me and grabbed the roses from the counter. I turned to face him with teary eyes. I couldn't believe it. I was honestly shocked by this gesture.

“I know you said a relationship wasn't on the table, but just hear me out. Ok?” Terry lulled while handing me the flowers. “Terry,” I whined. He leaned over and kissed my lips. “Ma, I really do like you. Last night, we talked about things I hadn't in years. Things I hadn't been able to say. Somehow, I was able to share that wit’ you. ‘Vana, I know you ignored me because you were scared. I'm okay with being patient, but I need somethin’. Whether that's a relationship in the future or a friendship now. I like you, and I want you, Havana,” Terry said assertively. His face was serious yet soft. “Terry, I would love to, but I feel like… like… Shit! I don't know anymore,” I mumbled, looking down at the floor. “Is it the fact that you still feel like we don't know each other?” Terry asked holding my chin. “Yeah, it scares me. What if—,” I started. “What if we go on a date, tonight?” he asked with pleading eyes. “Terry, I…,” I said trying to find suitable words. “Havana?” Terry said holding my hands in his. I looked down and watched as he used his thumbs to stroke the back of my hands.

“Fine. Yes, I’ll go on a date with you,” I said looking up at him. “Thank you, mama. It wasn't like you had much of an option anyway,” he said kissing me on the forehead. “See, this is why I can’t be nice to you!” I yelled hitting him in the chest.

*Later that night

“Do you like the food?” Terry asked while glaring at me. “No,” I said smiling while taking another bite of salmon. “Funny,” Terry responded smugly. I looked up and winked at him. His eyes had darkened slightly, allowing the hazel in his eyes to overshadow the usual green. The small flame of the candle at the center of the table flickered and intensified the goldish hues. They were captivating and low, almost hypnotizing. The last time his eyes looked like that we were—. I leaned up and cleared my throat. I sat up straight crossing my legs as best as I could under the table.

The restaurant was gorgeous. The dark ambiance added to the sexiness of the aura. The glass ceiling provided a marvelous view of the night sky. This— this was all I wanted. I wanted to be treated to nice dates without being the one to ask or plan. Fuck. This man was making it hard for me.

“You good?” I asked trying to break whatever this stare was. “Yes. How are you, mama?” he asked leaning over and resting his chin on his left palm. The look he was giving me only intensified with his movements. I shifted my body so that I was leaning on my hip. “Of course. Thank you, again. I’m sorry if I made things difficult,” I said placing my hands in my lap. I dropped my head. “No, ma’am. Eyes up here,” he said leaning over the table and gently nudging my chin.

He sat back down and placed his hands on the table with his palms upward. He nodded his head, motioning for me to put my hands in his. I raised my hands and placed them on top of his. The warmth of his hands was soothing to the touch. His fingers began slowly caressing the back of my hands. I was captivated by the tenderness of the way he touched me, as if every brush of his skin against mine was an unspoken display of affection. The strength in his hands was diminished by the way his fingers graced over mine. His fingers were light as feathers, and his touch seemed unreal. The world around us was moving at its own pace while we were locked into each other's eyes. Our gazes grew lustful by the second. I squeezed his hands gently and allowed him to continue his movements.

I knew where this was going.

“Okay, no more wine. I'm done,” I said pulling away and finishing my third glass of a Riesling white wine. “Yeah, I agree. If I drink any more of this Hennessy, I’m gonna be a problem,” he says finishing his fourth drink of the night. “I’m just glad we didn't drive,” I said sitting with my hands in my lap. “Same. If you're finished, we can leave now. No rush though, baby girl. It’s all on you,” Terry said smirking. That smirk had something hidden behind it. “What?” I asked. He paused for a moment before continuing. “Can you do something for me?” he asked softly while slightly leaning across the table. “Yes. And, what are you up to?” I asked sitting at attention. This man had me on high alert.

“First, my place or yours?” he asked glaring at me again. “Mine, and stop looking at me like that,” I said feeling hot. My body was sweltering. The middle of my thighs had to feel like a pool of honey— warm and sticky. My panties were ruined and all he had done was look at me. “When we get there remember this moment, okay?” he lulled. “Why?” I asked confused. The way he was speaking to me had me on edge. Every word sounded sweeter than the last. “’Cause when we get there, I'm gonna fuck you like I hate you. Like I've been holding a grudge against you and fuckin’ you is the release. I don't think you understand how bad I need you, baby girl. I just want you to know that. Understood?” “Y…yes,” I whimpered as a moan slipped from my lips. I was squirming in my seat at this point. “That’s not how you answer me,” he grunted. “Sorry. Yes, Daddy,” I said while rubbing my legs together. “That’s better, but you can show me how sorry you are when we get home,” he said leaning back into his seat.

*Later, back at Havana’s home

“I’m sor… I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, can I cum?” I whined. I wanted to touch him so badly, but he had tied my hands up using his suit tie. “I don't remember telling you to speak,” Terry said removing his fingers from my pussy and stuffing them in my mouth. I moaned around his fingers. “Shut the fuck up and suck,” he said pushing his middle and index fingers into my mouth. He was positioned on his knees between my legs. My back was arching off the bed.

He had already stripped me completely naked before we started, but he had chosen to remain shirtless with his pants unbuttoned and belt undone. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Sweat was dripping down his chest in between his pecs and down his abs. He went back down again and dove face-first into my pussy. This time he used his mouth to cover my clit and sucked. His tongue flicked the underside of my clit vigorously. I was suffering under his touch— weak and desperate for any form of release.

I felt that feeling again. I was about to come, but I was too afraid to acknowledge it. The pit of my belly grew tight, and my mouth slackened around his fingers as he held them between my lips. “Uh oh, what’s that? Baby girl, you wanna come?” he asked leaning up while removing his fingers. He placed his fingers back inside my pussy and curled them upward. The moan I released was laced with pure desperation. “Yes, Daddy. Please!” I begged through fresh tears. This would have been his fourth time denying me an orgasm.

He slowly leaned over me. His chest hovering over mine. His left hand pushed down on the bed right by my ear. He was holding himself up so that he could look me directly in the eyes. “Eyes on me. If you look anywhere else; I'll stop, and we gone start the fuck over. I don't give a damn how close you are. Your eyes stay open and focused, ” he leaned over and whispered into my right ear. His lips were so close that I could feel his breath on my skin. “Please!” I begged again. “You better let me have all of it. Now, let's go!” Terry said pushing his fingers deeper inside me.

Every touch and plunge felt like I was on fire. His fingers produced an ache only he could relieve. In and out, in and out. He was pulling my orgasm from me by making a come here motion while inside. My abdomen locked, and I felt it coming. I wanted to look down so badly; however, I knew Terry would follow through with his threat.

My eyes remained locked on his. His mouth turned into a permanent smirk. His fingers were unyielding to the pain in my belly. “Let go, ‘Vana. Give me what the fuck I want,” he growled into my ear. His fingers relentlessly worked against the walls of my pussy. The tips of his fingers glided against my G-spot over and over again. The pressure was building, and I was suffering through it.

“Mmm,” I whined. The euphoria I was feeling made words inaccessible and futile. “You got one minute to cum or this little party is over, Mama. Better yet, fuck that. Maybe you need a little help,” he said dragging his fingers out of me, leaving my pussy clenching around nothing. I was spent as exhaustion coursed through my body.

Terry sat on his knees and grabbed both of my legs by the ankles. He peppered each ankle with feather-like kisses. “It's okay, Mama. Daddy's gonna get it. Just remember to breathe,” he smirked as he lifted me, placing me closer to the center of the bed. “Daddy!” I moaned out in disappointment. His eyes shot up to meet mine. “Shut that shit up! I don't wanna fuckin' hear it. You had your moment. Now, it's my turn!” he said standing up and pushing his pants and briefs to the floor. He stepped out of them and got back between my legs on the bed. His dick sprang up and bounced in the air.

He placed his hands on the tie around my hand and undid the knot. Finally, my hands were free. I wiggled my wrists in joy. “I wouldn't get too happy if I were you. You weren't exactly a good girl, Mama. Daddy's gotta do something about that. Don't I?” he asked holding the tie in his hands. He leaned over and grabbed the condom from the bed, ripping it open with his teeth. He glided it on effortlessly— a trained fuckin’ professional. He slid his hand through the slickness between my legs. He placed his hand on his covered dick and began to stroke himself.

“I… I don't know what happened. I tried. I swear it was…,” I said before he pushed the tie into my mouth. “Shh… It's okay, princess. Daddy's gonna fix that,” he grabbed my legs and flipped me over. He pulled me back so that his hard dick was now sitting right on my ass. I was tempted to grind on it, but I didn't want any more problems than I already had.

He spread my legs and pushed my head down. “So, we did all of that work for you not to come, huh? Alright, that's fine. You tellin’ me Daddy not doin’ enough? Is that what you sayin’?” he pressed his thighs against my body and pushed my ass further into the air.

smack

That was the first one right across my left ass cheek. I put my arm behind me and broke my arch. He leaned over me and snatched the tie from my mouth. He pushed me down using his body weight. Of course, he would tie my hands up again. “Lessons are learned through punishment,” he said holding my bound hands in one of his and using his free hand to rub my right ass cheek.

smack

smack

smack

smack

smack

I let out the most lewdest moan ever. The pain from each smack was met with the sweet aftertaste of pleasure. I yelped in between each sob. I wanted him to do it again. “More, Daddy. I deserve to be punished,” I begged. “Daddy's nasty whore wants more? Oh, you wanna be the perfect slut fa’ me, huh?!” he says rubbing his hand all over both of my ass cheeks. I nodded my head yes. It's as if I could feel him smiling.

“Remember, you asked for it!” he asserted.

smack

smack

smack

smack

smack

He let each hit rain down on me like fire. I was feeling it now. Both cheeks ached and throbbed. I tried to lay flat on the bed. “Where the fuck you think you going’, huh?” Terry said through gritted teeth. “I'm not done with you yet. You wanna be a slut for Daddy, right? Ass up, face down. You better not move, or I swear. I fuckin' dare you!” he said squeezing my ass cheeks as a reminder.

Without warning, he slid himself into my wet pussy. This was the first time Terry had me in the doggy-style position. His dick felt unreal against my walls. He felt both thicker and longer in this position. He corrected my arch to the point that it was painful and pressed his hand on my lower back to keep me there.

He slammed into me and pulled all the way out to the tip. Oh, God. I was well aware of what he was doing. He slammed into me again. Each time pulling out until his tip was all that was left inside me. He was forcing my pussy to feel and take every inch with every thrust. I felt him dip his hips upward and quicken his pace. His strokes never weakened.

He let go of my wrists to grab my hips. He was pulling me back onto his dick. I could feel the pulse his dick made inside me. I clenched my pussy around him. He yanked me back against him and began pounding my pussy mercilessly.

I instantly became a sobbing mess. “You ain't got shit to say now, huh?” he asked. His hips snapped against my ass with so much force that the sound reverberated off of my bedroom walls. “Take it, Mama. This my pussy, right?” he asked thrusting upward again. His hips were moving at the speed of light. My mouth hung open though no words could come out. “Mmhmm…” I moaned into the mattress. “Say it. I wanna hear you fuckin' say it!” he growled. “It's yours. Daddy, it's yours. This pussy is… ugh… it's all yours. Take…it…from…me,” I said slumping my head back into the mattress.

“Nah… I gotta prove it,” Terry said leaning over me. He placed his right hand on the front of my throat and secured his left hand through my arms behind my back. He yanked me upward. His chest was now against my back. He continued to punish my pussy. He leaned close and began to grunt in my ear. “Ugh, come on. Let's go, Mama. This my pussy, right?” he said kissing my neck. His hips just would not stop. The way he was doggin’ my pussy out had me gone. He pushed me back down on the bed and slid right back inside me. “Fuck, princess!” Terry moaned throwing his head back. He pushed my arch back into position again. Ass in the air, face in the mattress.

He pulled one of his knees up so that he was kneeling on the bed and began to thrust into me again. Terry wasn't giving me a breather, just straight fucking. I started to throw my ass back to match his rhythm. He grabbed my hips to steady his pace. His dick was kissing my cervix at this point. “Ya’ know what's funny…,” Terry laughed. “You said you could beat me on your knees. Well, you're on your knees right now. What's wrong?” he said taunting me. “Fuck you,” I whimpered.

BIG MISTAKE!

Without a word of acknowledgment, Terry started fucking me even harder. It was as if I had unlocked a monster. He pressed his hands into my back and wrapped them around my hips. He forced me to slam back into him. Every thrust was fucking me up, and I couldn't care less. This was what Big Mama needed.

I was keeping up with him, but every time I felt like we were equally matched; he'd started to fuck me harder or faster. “I'm sorry! Shit!” I moaned out with my face turned away from the mattress. “Fuck that! You said fuck me, right?!” he grabbed a handful of my hair from the roots. “Nah, talk shit now!” he grunted. He slowed his pace and began to slowly grind inside of me with deep hard thrusts.

Without warning, I started leaking all over Terry. My orgasm started to surge through my body. I tried my best to breathe, but Terry just kept fucking me through it. I couldn't focus on breathing— all I could focus on was coming and taking dick. Fuck it. If I died, I died.

I could feel Terry’s hips tighten. His strokes were still not getting sloppy. He was close, but not on edge. He kept thrusting into me. His hips were snapping against my ass hard enough that I expected to see a bruise. The grip he held on my hair slackened and he held onto my hips again. His strokes slowed but remained deep. I clenched my pussy around his dick hoping to help him get closer. “Ah, fuck. That's it, mama. Daddy's close. Stay just like this,” he said stirring my insides. “You gone be a good girl, fa’ me? Huh?” he asked biting his bottom lip. “Yes!” I screamed. His dick started pulsing inside of me. The throb of him caused my pussy to grip around him. “Here it comes, argh. Ugh! Shit! Fuck, Mama!” he said throwing his head back, slamming into me two more times. Holding each thrust deep, I could feel his nut fill the condom.

He held my hips until he came down fully. He pulled out of me and stepped off the bed. He looked down at the condom that was now loaded with his semen. “I hate I couldn't nut in you. It feels like such a waste, ‘Vana,” he said untying the knot that bound my wrists together. He removed the condom and walked towards the bathroom. “Terry, I told you—,” I started to say. “I know, Mama. I respect it. That's why I didn't fuss!” he yelled back into the room. “Thank you!” I yelled back at him. “But that's why we're both getting tested. I know it don't matter now, but I can't keep this up!” he yelled back. “Yeah, we really suck at keeping our mouths off of each other!” I laughed as I lay on my back. I gazed at the ceiling as I waited for Terry to return.

This man had singlehandedly given me the best dick I had ever had two times in a row. Each time exceeding the last. At this point, how could it get any better than this?

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@cocooned-butterfly

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?" 

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 

"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 

"And you too." 

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 

"Ah, Pop, I don-" 

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 

"What's this?" 

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 

"Pop." 

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 

"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you." 

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 

"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 

"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 

"I'll speak up. I promise." 

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 

"What's this?" 

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 

"When's the last time you used it?" 

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?" 

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 

Desire. 

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 

"You trust me?" 

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride 

You check your mail? 

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

[jimmybutlrr]

Mystery Girl

Pairing: Professor -Terry Richmond x Brown-Skinned Women

Warnings : 18+. Romance, Mature Content (Cursing, and Smut) One-Shot, "Getting Slut Out"

Summary: He's that easy, that his draws dropped a few hours after meeting.

A/N: You voted and you shall receive. As always constructive Criticism is welcome and feedback *No Part 2*

“SURPRISE” everyone said. 

Terry clutches his heart feeling happy that his family showed up and out for him. 

“Thank y'all,” Terry said. After going around the party greeting every family member and friends. Terry can be found talking to Mike and the rest of his friend group. “We have to the club, maybe the strip club” Mike said, throwing all the options out there, “calm down, I just came back after being in the military for a few years” Terry said knowing his cousin is not going to take no for an answer. “You're right, we could go to the bar and use your military discount” Mike said, making the men laugh. 

Terry sighs, thinking about the options, laid out in front of him. “Alright, we can go to the bar but only for a few hours because I want to bury these memories”. Terry said in despain, thinking about his time in the military. “I’m going to make those memories disappear” That’s what Mike said a few hours ago, now being too drunk to entertain Terry. 

As Terry sits at the bar talking to the bartender as he has nothing better to do. During the time he spent talking to her, he found out that she had graduated university with a bachelors of social science, has a chihuahua, is collecting another degree  and works at the bar to be able to pay off her classes and debt.  “I really enjoy this talk with you but It’s the end of my shift and I have to switch out now, See you later Handsome .

" The bartender says winking at Terry and leaves before Terry can have a chance to get her number. Drinking the rest of his drink, he looks around for Mike and the boys, seeing them on the dance floor and he walks towards them. Tapping one of his friends on the shoulder, he lets them know that he has to leave and to watch out for Mike. “I have to go, but make sure you guys  make it home safe, alright”. The man nodds to Terry’s words, turning around to continue to dance with the bad gyal in front of him.  

Making his way through the club, throwing a few excuses here and there. He gets to the exit of the club and starts searching for his car when he sees the bartender on the phone, arguing with the uber as he’s not understanding where to go or what she’s saying. Terry walks up to her grabbing her attention, “Hi, I was just walking to my car, when I  saw you upset and I just wanted to make sure that everything was alright, as it’s dark out” Terry said concerned for safety. “I’m alright , it’s just the uber, they're starting to piss me off”. She said upset, “If It makes you feel better, you look sexy when you’re mad” Terry said walking  even closer to her, she blushes feeling flattered, by his compliment. 

“Thank you handsome, you don’t look too bad yourself” She smiles, staring into his eyes, biting her lip, noticing the height difference between them.  “I’m about about to go home, do you need a ride” Terry said breaking the silence, “I would love that” She said putting her head down, Terry wanting to charm her some more, takes to fingers and picks up her head “Don’t put your head down around me”  he demands staring into her eyes some more, feeling a bit chilly as he has no jacket, he put his arm around her neck and starts walking towards his car.

Thinking back to how they met, It really doesn’t explain how she ended up on his bed with her face planted into the sheets, gripping for dear life. “Don’t cum, Don’t cum” Terry demanded “No ppllleeaassee, let.. .me .. .cum, ppllleeeaasse” moans as her stomach starts hurting her. “It hurts, pleassee”. Terry nodds “Alright let it out, when i could to 3 alright” Terry said, lifting up her hand to start slapping her cheeks “ One “Slap” Two “Slap” Three” Terry said feeling her tighten around his dick, feeling like 2 orgasm isn’t enough. 

He starts fucking her through her orgasm, not caring that she’s trying to push his stomach way from her “Please, it too much,plleeaassee” She moans feeling tired. Terry stops, slapping her ass one good time before turning her around. He takes her legs putting them next to her head giving her a small kiss before he starts to bottom her pussy out”OOOMMYY Gooooodddd”. Tears start falling from her eyes, all while her ears start ringing and her body starts twitching. 

Making her reach up to push his body,” Why you running” Terry said, grabbing her hands and choking her. Looking down, Terry smirks, seeing drools fall from her mouth, the whites of her eyes and her delayed speech, trying her hardest to speak English or at least speak at all, it was cute. Terry’s thrust starts rough and slopier, revealing that his nut is getting closer and closer. “Come on, Nut deep inside me, daddy please” She said hoping to be filled. Terry obeys letting of a string of curses while he nuts deep inside her, not caring about the missing condom

Letting go of her body, he falls next to her, both too tired to get up. They fall asleep bare and sheetless.  A few weeks later, Terry wakes up and starts rubbing his eyes. Walking to his bathroom he starts getting ready for his first day being a substitute teacher for a college course that his connections helped him get. He gets to work, taking out the lesson plan from the previous teacher, the students start piling in one by one. Scanning everybody's faces for remembrance, he sees her. Shocked that she turned out to be his student, while also coming to the conclusion that she is equally as shocked as she is seated staring at him with the same eyes that were rolling back, just a few weeks before. When it hits him, He never got her name.

Tags -

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackgurlnhermoods

@easybrezzy @planetblaque

@urfavblackbimbo @jenlovey

@avoidthings @kimuzostar

@skvrpion @theereina

@megamindsecretlair @theereina

@melaninpov @mscarter213

[chefkids]

The Bear is A Midsummer Night's Dream and Marcus is making the violet love potion for Syd and Carmy

There have been Shakespeare references in The Bear from the very beginning. In the very first episode Marcus finds Carmy’s James Beard award for Fairest Creatures, which is a Shakespearean sonnet about life being short and how everything will end and die even if they're beautiful, but the only thing that survives are children, and not having children deprives the world of beauty. Nat's conversation with Jimmy about raising children was parallel with Carmy's conversation with Terry about starting a restaurant. Then of course there was Richie singing Love Story which is about Romeo & Juliet.

Violet and purple flowers are a reoccurring thing we see and learn about in Season 3 of The Bear. According to Roman mythology, the wild pansy, a type of violet flower, was originally white, then turned into the purple Love-in-idleness when Cupid accidentally shot one of his arrows at it, working as a love potion with Cupid's powers. The first time we see purple flowers is in Tomorrow when Carmy tweezing purple flowers next to Luca at Ever, this is the same wagyu dish they ate at the Ever funeral with Sydney. We see more flowers in montages, like Carmy eating them at Noma, bouquets in hotels, and at Marcus' mom's funeral and more.

A Midsummer Night's Dream TL;DR: The play starts with Theseus preparing for his wedding to Hippolyta, he declares that young people should have fun and celebration, not sadness like at a funeral. Hermia, Lysander, Helena, and Demetrius are in a love square and run away to the woods. Puck aka Robin Goodfellow, a fairy that enjoys mischief, manipulates them with the juice of a violet flower, love-in-idleness, that makes people fall in love with the next creature they see. Things get messed up, the wrong people fall in love with each other, and they all fight with each other. Puck reverses the magic, then the couples reconcile and get married at Theseus and Hippolyta's wedding. There is also group of 6 stupid men called the Mechanicals that put on a play, Pyramus and Thisbe (which is also the inspiration behind Romeo & Juliet) for the wedding. In the end, Puck breaks the fourth wall and apologizes to the audience for any offense the play might have caused. The Bear Season 3 started and ended with a funeral and an attempt at a celebration, and we know there will be a wedding in Season 4.

Marcus and his magic purple flowers are always tying back to Syd and Carmy. In Doors the purple flowers at the funeral cut to Sydney and Carmy's "cause you write in the margins" wholesome moment between them.

In Children, Marcus sees a white violet then it cuts to Sydney reading the partnership agreement that Carmy sent while wearing a purple flower scarf.

He then tells Nat about it, she mentions it's the state flower of illinois and he decides to make a white violet flower dessert.

In Violet, Marcus is working on some purple liquid and holds a violet petal, then it cuts to Syd and Carmy.

Even back in Season 1 Marcus was interested in the color purple and flowers, roommate Chester brought pantone color swatches. In Legacy Marcus and Carmy talk about creating magic to push his violet dish further, then Sydney appears.

In that same episode after the conversation about legerdemain and magic, Richie's notebook makes its own sleight of hand. It's a bit hard to read his terrible handwriting but on one page it says Lover for Syd on top and below:

Carmy -> Syd Luca -> Carm

And in another page he wrote:

Syd -> pansy Luca -> Carmen

Richie is Puck/Robin and he wants to see what would happen if Luca and Carmy start fighting for Syd. Richie and the Fak's have been fucking with the dream weave and Carmy’s love story for a while by pushing him to be with Claire.

The Faks are the Mechanicals, a group of incompetent manual laborers. We see Carmy tweezing herbs next to some pansy flowers, then Fak brings out the donkey piñatas. In A Midsummer Night's Dream, one of the mechanicals, Bottom, gets turned into a donkey then the rest of the mechanicals say they are being haunted. And we all know how much the Fak's love to talk about being haunted. Can't get more on the nose than that for them.

The Faks/Mechanicals are mechanics but they think they can make a movie/play. Theodore Fak thinks he makes art films, Sammy Fak argues with him over SD cards and tells him he makes films for children's parties. Even Francie Fak is a reference to one of the mechanics, Francis Flute, who is the only one forced to play the female role in the play they are putting on for the wedding. Also, In A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1999) Michelle Pfeiffer played Tatiana, the Queen of the Fairies, who Storer originally had in mind to play Donna. 

When Richie arrived to Ever he took off a fishing hook from a purple flower, then right after Luca appears and greets Carmy. Carmy's flower tattoo in his hand is a violet, and it was right in front of his face the whole dinner when he was next Sydney and Luca and they started vibing with each other. Next season will have a wedding and Marcus' white violet dessert will be tasted. Richie already told us plan he has for Syd, the pansy and it goes from Luca to Carmy.

At the end of the play Puck has an epilogue and breaks the fourth wall to apologize to the audience if they have offended them. Richie and Tiff broke fourth wall to address the "kids" aka us the audience in Apologies. In conclusion, The Bear is a Shakespearean comedy, but it is also first and foremost, a messy love story. 💜

[writingsbytee]

HIDDEN PT. 3

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: Violence, death, reader gets traumatized

SUMMARY:  Things get real when Raul spots Daphne. Will Terry come to her rescue?

TROPES: grumpy x sunshine ; “touch her and die”; slow burn;

AUTHOR’S NOTE: OH MY GOD. Y’all I’m so sorry this took so long. When I say life has been whooping my ass I mean that shit. And I’m having the birthday blues. But please enjoy this installment of ‘HIDDEN’ . I hope it was worth the wait. 

WORD COUNT: 2K +

PREVIOUSLY ON HIDDEN: 1 , 2

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

DAPHNE

My heart is pounding, my ears are ringing, and all I can hear is the whoosh of the blood rushing through my veins.

I try to take a calming breath before I speak, “Raul?”

Rafa’s younger brother Raul sits back in his chair eyeing me appreciatively. His lips curve into a devilish grin. If I thought Rafa was bad, based on what he’s told me he doesn’t even compare to his younger pyromaniac of a brother.

“Pretty, pretty Daphne last time I saw you, you were at the end of my brother’s fist. Good to see you’ve really leveled up,” he finishes sarcastically, motioning toward Terry. My eyes shift to my right where Terry’s standing and he looks pissed! Gone was the sweet, playful man rubbing my neck 15 minutes ago. The man standing before me was scar personified.

Eyes narrowed with a permanent scowl in place.

“My brother will be glad to know that I’ve found his little dove,” Raul says, a mischievous look glinting in his eye. My pulse thunders in my ears as rage blurs my vision. Before I know it I’m across the table in Raul’s face.

“You limp dick piece of shit! You tell Rafa where I am and I’ll tell the cops about October 4th”. Threatening a sociopath probably isn’t my best moment, but I’m just so pissed off at men feeling like they can take what they want when they want without consequences. Raul’s smirk vanishes and his eyes darken. 

I barely blink before his hands are around my throat, “You stupid fucking cunt! Open your mouth and I’ll fucking kill you. You think you can threaten me, I’m fuck-”.

Whatever he said was cut off by a bullet piercing the side of his head. His blood splattered against my face as he dropped like a sack of potatoes. My eyes frantically search for the source of the shooter. My breath catches when I see Terry placing his gun back in his waistband.

“Never liked that motherfucker anyway,” he said looking at Raul’s lifeless body. I stare down at him in shock, eyes lifeless. I blink hard and take a deep breath hoping I can wish it all away. My dreams prove futile when I open them and he’s still there dead on the floor. Terry’s timberlands come into my view and I look up to meet his eyes. 

“Daphne, are you ok? Talk to me!”, he says, shaking my shoulders. I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. 

“Look at me Daph, shit. Mario!” Terry’s right in my face shouting, but it feels like I’m in the bottom of a well. I’m lifted off my feet and a scream leaves my lips. 

“Shh, shh, it’s just me,” Terry says carrying me towards his office. Once we’re inside he sets me on a couch and heads towards his desk. My trembling hands reach up to wipe the blood off my face. Terry grabs my hands, placing them back down at my side.

“Let me,” Terry said, bringing a baby wipe up to my face. He gently scrubs all the blood and makeup from my face. I look up at Terry, our eyes finally meeting after all the chaos that occurred. 

“You’re blurry. Why is your face blurry?” I ask.

I hear a deep sigh come from Terry, “Daphne, you’re crying.” As many times as I’ve helped people dealing with their own trauma’s, I can’t even identify my own. I wipe the tears and take a deep breath. I can’t believe Raul’s dead, well I can based on everything Rafa’s told me about him. You can only lie, cheat, kill and rob for so long. He wasn’t a good person, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to see him shot in front of me. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your hair soon,” I say, getting up from Terry’s couch. Terry pushed me down by my shoulders shaking his head. 

“No, you’re not going anywhere. I had Mario drop your car off at home,” Terry said, moving around his office. 

“What are you going to do to me?” the tremble of  my voice audible in my question. 

“I’m taking you to my place, we need to talk about what happened. I know you have Lexi, but I want to make sure you’re okay,” Terry said, moving to sit next to me on the sofa. 

“You just shot him Terry, I’m still just trying to process everything,” I was rubbing my hands up and down my arms with anxious energy. Terry took notice and went to grab his jacket, placing it around my shoulders. I took a brief inhale, finding comfort in the bergamot scent that surrounded me. 

“He was strangling you Daphne, he would’ve killed you. I couldn’t let that happen,” Terry said looking down at me with an intensity that I’ve never seen before. 

“You saved my life and I can’t thank you enough for that Terry. But this is too much I feel like I can’t even get my head on straight,” I was spiraling. The ringing in my ears intensified along with my breathing. This was the start of a panic attack, a bad one.

TERRY

Shit! She’s about to have a full blown panic attack, maybe I shouldn’t have shot that little shit in front of her. I just didn’t think, I reacted which is something I rarely do. I squat down in front of her to make sure that we’re eye level. 

“Daphne, look at me sweetheart," I say with an even tone of voice. Her deep set brown eyes meet mine frantically. She’s looking at me but I might as well be a lamp with the way she’s looking through me. I placed my hands on either side of her head, I can practically feel her thoughts. Her breathing is still erratic, if she keeps this up she’ll pass out. 

“Daph, you need to breathe, c’mon honey just breathe for me,” I say, moving my hands to rub up and down her arms. That seems to snap her out of it when her eyes refocus on mine. 

“There’s my pretty girl you think you can breathe for me?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. She tries to take a few deep breaths, but they come out choppy, like she’s on the verge of tears. 

I try to stand, but her hand reaches up and she grips my collar.

“You - You can’t leave me in here. Please don’t go.” She looked up at me with those doe eyes and I started to feel things. Things I shouldn’t be feeling, like wanting to protect her from everything. 

“I’m not going anywhere, but we need to leave, my guys need to start cleaning up. Can you stand?” 

Daphne takes another shaky breath before she stands. I adjust my jacket on her and turn to grab my keys off my desk. I wrap my arm across her shoulder and begin to lead her out.

“Is this okay? My arm around you like this?” I ask, sneaking a peek down at her. She nods her head and we head out of my office.  

“Wow, your place is beautiful, “ Daphne says, her eyes darting around my loft. A small smirk reaches my lips, and I say a quiet thank you. I direct her to the spare bedroom and bring her some spare towels, and some clothes of mine for her to change into.

While Daphne’s in the shower I go to do the same. Jesus today has been a fucking day. So much for trying to ease her into the lifestyle. Was is messy to shoot Raul in the middle of my establishment with witnesses? Yes. But do I regret it? Fuck no. But knowing that Daphne’s ex is Rafa changes things. 

Rafa and I used to be thick as thieves, running these New Orleans streets. Until he got greedy, he wanted to step into some dark web type shit and I wasn’t for it. We parted ways and I assumed we could just leave it at that. But now I see we’ll have a reason to chat again. That reason being 5’2, beautiful and thicker than 2 day old grits. I hop out of the shower, moisturize and spray a little cologne on before throwing on a plain white tee and gray sweats. 

Making my way towards my kitchen I can hear Daphne on the phone with someone. I slow my steps so I can be nosy and hear what she’s saying.

“Lexi, I’m fine I promise. He just scared me.” I hear her say and my heart drops to my ass. I figured I scared her a little bit but I hope it doesn’t deter my plan. My ears perk when I hear my name being mentioned.

“I’m at Terry’s place… he didn’t want me to be alone after what happened with Raul. He’s being nice, that's all. He couldn’t have one of his bartenders too traumatized to move,” she giggles at something her sister says on the other side of the phone and my heart warms at the sound. 

“You dirty little slut I am not doing that!,” Daphne whispers into the phone. I figure this is a good time to make my presence known. Her eyes lock with mine when I round the corner to the kitchen. 

“Lex, I’ll call you later. Love you. Bye,” Daphne says, shooting me an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that when I didn’t come home Lexi got worried,” Daphne said, wringing her hands together nervously.

“It’s all good mama, if you’re not too wiped by today I think we should talk,” I gesture toward the living room. She nods slightly a small smile on her lips as she makes her way toward my living room. My eyes get stuck watching the way her ass moves in my shirt. No way this woman is real. We settle into the love seat and I stretch, a lame attempt at trying to bring her closer to me. A small smirk forms on my lips as Daphne inches closer to me. My shirt rides up against her  plush thighs revealing that she’s not wearing the boxers I gave her. This woman is going to be the death of me and she doesn’t have a clue. 

“Look, I just want to start by saying I’m so sorry Daphne. I don’t regret shooting the motherfucker, he was hurting you and I don’t stand for shit like that. I just hate that I traumatized  you in the process. I’m not usually that violent, but like I said he was hurting you, and I’d do it again,” I’m a little out of breath at the end of my rant. My eyes meet Daphne’s and I can’t help but get lost in them. They’re mesmerizing.

“Terry, can I hug you?,” she asks, scooting closer toward me. A small chuckle leaves my lips before I open my arms wide, inviting her in. 

“C’mere pretty girl,” I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her. She fits perfectly in my arms, like she’s meant to be there. A content sigh leaves her lips, her lips brushing against my neck in the process. After a few moments, she pulls back and our eyes meet. 

“Daph, can I kiss you?” 

Another cliffhanger?? I know I know, don’t beat my ass. I hope you guys liked this one more to come soon. I’m really happy I could get this to you guys today, it’s my birthday and I couldn’t keep y’all hanging any longer, sorry this one is a little short the next part will be longer!

if i forgot to tag you please leave a comment

Until next time

TEE <3

TAGLIST

@blackgurlnhermoods @megamindsecretlair @dxddykenn @pinkkycherrish @episodes-ff @kimuzostar @uzumaki-rebellion @urfavblackbimbo @kianaleani @shallipii @greatpandagladiator @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @pocketsizedpanther @mymindisneverhere @onherereading @nayaesworld @earthchica @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @blyffe @melalsworld @mogul93 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @sweettea-and-honeybutter @diaries-of-me @notapradagurl7 @helloncrocs @miyuhpapayuh @simplyzeeka @gg-trini @mogul93

[fae-whispers]

i just finished the dragon prince’s season 6. holy shit.

SPOILERS BELOW!!!!

-AARAVOS IS MY NEW FAVORITE CHARACTER HOLY SHIT I LOVE A MORALLY GRAY MAN WHO WOULD BURN DOWN THE WORLD FOR THE ONE PERSON HE LOVES

-ohhh my god me and my friends were SOBBING over his daughter’s death oh my god!!!! what the fuck thats so sad. and him crying for A HUNDRED years is so fucking sad oh my god please

-viren redemption arc??? man he has to stop coming back to life. i think hes finally dead this time but holy shit it took six seasons

-TERRY ILY YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE WAITED FOR HER OMG (like ily claudia youre hot asf but you need a redemption arc before you deserve terry)

-speaking of terry that scene where he ever so gently bathed her had me rolling over crying he is the sweetest man to ever exist

-IF SOREN AND CORVUS DO NOT KISS ASAP IM LITERALLY EATING A MY TV YOU CAN HOLD ME TO THIS

-lesbian wedding!!!

-rayllum finally kissed 🤭🤭 its only been sIX DAMN SEASONS OF TENSION

-yeah im still thinking about aaravos i love me a morally gray man and hes hot asf

-ezran is so young bro hes like 12-14 here im so mad he grew up so quickly hes gonna have so much trauma

-the ending with callum spotting his kingdom burning in the distance??? please 🤕

-SPEAKING OF MEN i forgot how *HOT* runaan is like sirrrr 🤭🤭 (i cant be saying this he’s old enough to he my actual father)

anyway i have to go rewatch the whole damn thing because my brother wants to watch it with me so ill be sobbing over fictional characters if you need me!! <3

[nayaesworld]

Rugged Whiskey

Part 3

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Warnings: murder, hematolagnia, smut, knife play

Terry Richmond X OC!Khia

__

Khia squealed and ran around her kitchen from Terry as the champagne spilled from the bottle. A few days of planning and mapping out their plan had them jumping with excitement. The two were enjoying a small celebratory meal before they went together to search for their victim. The sun would set on Joel Castille for the final time tonight, and Khia was excited about it. He was a drunk who couldn’t understand the word no and had become a thorn in her side as she tried to do her job. She was used to drunk belligerent men, yes, but when she had to repeat herself as often as she did to Joel, she would be happy to clean the streets of low level scum.

“You really wanna watch me do it…it won’t be a pretty sight mama.”

“Yes Terry I told you that already, I wanna watch everything…and what do you mean it won’t be a pretty sight? People literally create whole documentaries based on murder…it’s art.”

“Sure all that blood won’t bother you, miss pretty in pink?” Terry raised a thick brow at her and nodded at her baby pink satin sleep set.

“Well I won’t have on pink, I’ll have on black sooo..” she said matter-of- factly.

“Yes you will, I got you a little surprise…since you wanna be front and center so bad.” Terry stepped away toward her living room and pulled a small pink gift bag from behind a couch pillow. He handed it to her and watched her as she threw him a playful suspicious glare. She quickly threw out the tissue paper and gasped loudly.

“Oh my god this is soo damn cutesy…I wanna put it on right now!” He watched her gush over the pink ski mask as she fitted it on over her sleek pressed hair.

“You look so sexy… I wouldn’t even fight back if you came in my house at night looking like this, gimme a kiss..lil crazy ass.” His plump lips suckled and smacked against hers, tonight would be a well needed bonding experience for them; he was so ready and willing to prove himself to her in any way she needed.

“Soo your guy Joel Castille..you fucked him?” Terry squinted his eyes and studied her face carefully,

“What..eww no but he wanted too, that’s how I got his address.He’s not even my type.”

“And what is your type exactly?” Terry watched her place a finger under her chin in faux thought and lightly swatted her butt.

“Hmm let’s see…6’3 men with green eyes and big muscles that do what I say, you know anyone that fits the description?”

“Mhm and so do you , now let’s go…we got a schedule to stick to.”

Midnight was the focal point of the night for them and Terry stood off to the side mesmerized as Khia slipped the black catsuit over her shapely body. It clung to her skin in ways that had him internally holding himself back from fucking her up and down her room. She was pure ecstasy in human form and being drunk off her was a constant for him. Black leather boots turned her into a sexy ass catwoman and Selina Kyle couldn’t hold a light to her.

Terry made a show of picking out the weapon of choice tonight. And ultimately settled on an 8 inch serrated knife. It was quick and to the point with easy cleanup. A few zip ties,a gag, and a tarp completed their list so they headed for his truck. Joel lived a little ways from Khia’s home in the quiet country. His closest neighbor seemed to be a half mile up the road so their plans of luring him out of his house were still on.

__

Light work was made of tricking Joel out of his home and now he sat gagged on his knees in front of them both. The rushing river behind them drowning out the gagged cries and groans. Khia buzzed beside him with excitement and she watched his every move, watching and waiting to see how he would draw blood first. Terry circled the man, ready to pounce like a lion. Fists gripped at his side as he eyed the man, a man who wanted his girl, a man who had been harassing her, a man he planned to carve like a pumpkin. His hands grabbed Khia’s wrist and he twirled her in front of Joel.

“This is what you wanted…hmm? This what had you taking your drunk ass down to Sapphire every damn night?” Terry let a palm come down on Khia’s ass and gripped it slowly making a show off gripping and groping her supple body.

He watched Joel’s eyes widen in anger and he mumbled angrily behind the gag. Oh so he thought he actually had a chance with her? Delusional.

“You thought she wouldn’t tell her man that some bum wouldn’t leave her alone at her job… you thought you would skate?” Terry shook his head and a laugh erupted from deep with him. He would let this man get no words, he didn’t want his voice and words ever gracing Khia’s ears again. The star of the show finally made its appearance, the serrated knife felt electric in his palm and he gripped the handle with unyielding force.

“Khia baby this is for you… for you to never again doubt the extent of my love and care for you. For you to trust me completely, we all we got.” He watched her wipe away a tear and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, sealing it.

The knife was plunged into his chest. Jagged edges slicing and cutting through cloth and flesh, Terrys eyes gleamed at the sight and slowly pulled it out eyeing the gush of blood that flowed behind it. Khia’s hand gripped his bicep tightly and her hot wet mouth sucked and licked at the shell of his ear.

“Daddy please…more blood, I want you to cut him here next. He’ll bleed more.” Terry watched her point at his wrist and grinned evilly. She wanted slit wrist and that’s what she’d get. Her breathy moans coaxed him further and further. Close and closer to draining the kneeled man of his life force.

Quick flicks of Terry's hand made crimson flow again. Left and right wrist slit and draining slowly. There would be no more Joel Castille, he would become a former, a notch on both of their belts. Their first kill together. A slit throat sealed his fate and brought forth something carnal between the two. This energy was dark and new, yet it felt balanced between them.

The body laid rolled tightly in the deep blue tarp, limbs zip tied together tightly. Terry eyed Khia as she slipped off her left boot reaching down into it. Her eyes gave off this feigned innocence that made his dick rock hard. He watched her bring forth a small pocket knife. It’s silver blade shimmering in the night.

“I thought that maybe we could have our own fun daddy…promise to be gentle?” Terry felt like his head was spinning right off his head. She always said the most painfully beautiful things to him, she knew the control she had over him.

“Fuck baby, you gonna let me carve up this this pretty soft skin? Let me put my name on it for real?” She sauntered over placing the small knife into his palm, giving him full creative control.

“Yess… I want this with you. I want you to mark me… do whatever you want.” Terry let his fingers tangle roughly in her hair as he pulled her roughly to meet his lips. He was hungry for her and couldn’t slow his rushed movements.He had removed his black denim jacket and placed it on the plush grass beneath Khia. He was kneeled over her, fondling her heavy breast, fingers plucking and squeezing the plump nipples.

He slid the knife slowly over her hard nipples bottom lip sucked into his mouth in intense concentration. He had plans of cutting her out of her tight catsuit slowly but surely, a well put together act of his non existent patience. He didn’t know what would happen when he sliced into her supple skin and the anticipation lit a fire deep inside him.

His mouth was placed over hers in a deep feverish kiss, tongue deep in her hot mouth exploring and tussling with hers. Terry let his free hand pinch her nose, allowing her only source of air to come from her mouth… and yet he controlled that airway too. Anytime she attempted to pull in a large gust of air his plump lips covered hers again cutting off that airflow.

“Tell me you love me and I’ll let you breathe.”He watched her closely and felt her nails sink into the skin of his arm, piercing his skin. A groan slid from his lips and he looked down at the small crescent slits on his arm, blood slowly dotting out of the small wounds. His teeth sank into her bottom lip and drew blood from it causing her to yelp and writhe beneath him.

“We can do this all night…now tell me you love me, or I’ll bite it again.” He lowered his lips onto hers again and the metallic taste of her blood met his tongue. If Terry had been a vampire Khia’s blood would be his drug of choice and he would stay fat and engorged on it.

“I love you..fuck I love you I swear I swear!” Her professed love had gained her breathing back from Terry.

“Now stay still and let daddy work…I love you more.” The pocket knife glided slowly past her belly and down to her hips, and Terry swiftly slit a hole into her catsuit near her inner thigh, exposing the soft flesh and her warm pussy to the windy night air. He sucked at the skin roughly watching as it turned red beneath his tongue, and when a small hickey formed there he let the knife glide over it watching her finch from the cold steel.

Terry had plans for what he wanted to mark onto her skin and they had talked briefly earlier that day about gifting each other with cute marks on their skin. As he started to puncture the skin in her inner thigh she began to kick and flail, throwing him off his game.

“Terry, I don't want it…Noo I don't want your name on me.” Terry wasn’t fazed though, he knew what this was. She wanted to act disgusted by the act so that he would force her into it, another sneaky way of getting him to rough her up.

“Yes you do you feigning for this shit. You my slut…look at the type of shit that makes this pussy drip..nasty little bitch.” Her pussy was spilling clear sticky liquid all over his hand, and her erect clit peeked out at him from behind her puffy lips.

“ Move again and this juicy ass thigh won’t be the only thing sliced tonight.” He watched her shake her head as she sucked lightly on her finger.

__

The letter ‘T’ and a tiny heart had been inscribed into her skin and lightly wrapped with gauze to heal. Afterwards Terry had laid down and let her sculpt a ‘K’ and a little star on his side just above his ribcage without so much as a flinch. The act of carving the heartfelt signs and symbols into each others skin had them doing enough fucking to wake the dead…no pun intended.

Khia was riding him like a bull with no saddle. Her hips grinded against his pelvis roughly, trying to stuff inch after inch into herself. She looked like an angel. Head thrown back and hands gripping his chest like he’d disappear if she let him go. He felt her pussy squeezing and convulsing for the second time as she gushed all over him. This was good pussy. Pussy primed and ready for what he had to offer. He flipped them over and his hand immediately went to work on her sopping little cunt.

“You watched daddy do some bad things tonight…you ever gonna tell anybody about it?” He slid a finger into her slowly watching her face.

“No daddy I promise… fuck them it’s only us, they don’t get you like I do.” She moaned and her bottom lip poked out slightly.

“Of course you won’t..because how are you so sure I won’t do the same to you. You just know this good ass cat you got gonna save you regardless..don’t you?” A second finger entered her and Terry was feeling manic.

“You wouldn’t dare… I own you just as much as you own me, what bitch would love you for who you truly are.. huh baby? Monsters only thrive in the midst of other monsters baby.” Terry let and third and final finger stretch her out and his free hand gripped her face roughly.

“Mmm monsters indeed… that’s why your pussy is so wet while I’m fingering you next to a dead man. You like this shit…it makes you feel alive. Bet you breathe a little better knowing you don’t share oxygen with him anymore.” His fingers were moving fast inside of her. His palm smacking her pussy as it moved in and out at a rapid pace.

“This shit can get as sick as you want it to baby, I don’t have any limits. You ask I do. You demand I move, period!” He was kicking his pants and boxers off quickly, his head would explode soon if he didn’t sink into her intoxicating fuck hole.

“Daddy you look so pretty when you kill…you were so concentrated and you made me cum a little when you slit his throat. That’s your best form…killing.” Terry pulled his fingers from her and stuffed them into her mouth, she had a real way with words. She sounded so poetic talking about the darkest shit with a face that looked like she wouldn’t sway a fly.

“When I fold you up don’t do any moving…you hear me, just lay here and take it. Let daddy release all this shit.” He moved to smooth his hands under her thighs, pushing them into her chest. He wanted to get in deep and stay there.

His purpling tip was sensitive as it pushed into her tight entrance. He was trying to pace himself with slow strokes but the sensation of his back being scratched up and the yanking sensation on his dick had him tucking his face into her neck with a tongue in his cheek. He had her filled to the brim with veiny pulsing dick and a hand covered her mouth to smother out her loud screams of pleasure. Terry turned his face to hers and lapped at the tears that slowly rolled down her face, their salty taste propelling his hips forward.

“Khia mm..girl fuck fuck, this pussy got a grip on me. Can daddy nut in this pussy tonight…hmm put all them plan b’s to use?” They had an unnecessary amount of them in his bathroom that needed to be used, and the day they didn’t do their job..? well they’d be welcoming baby Richmond.

“Already, you can’t hold out just a little longer daddy? Just a little while longer… please just a little longer..a little rougher.” Terry was doing his best to bite back his orgasm and the loud smacks of skin were dizzying and yet he held off to fuck into her and choke her out like a ragdoll.

“Ohh you just wanna lay hear and be fucked and slutted out… I got you spoiled princess? You just lay here and let me pipe you down…and you so gorgeous, daddy’s little pretty bitch.” Her eyes rolled into her head and her open mouth was open game for the spit that left his mouth.

It sounded like a splashpad between them. White cream decorating their brown skin and wild hearts beating in tandem. This was true freedom for them. No one to judge them for how rugged and downright dirty they got with each other, no unsolicited advice or opinions on their relationship. She gave him the ok and Terry felt like he was releasing on a loop as his dick spurted shit after shot into her.

Crushed under his weight Khia raked her nails over the fresh scratches on his back and his skin got goosebumps all over. He cleaned them of as best as he could out there in the open country and pulled her up from the ground.

“I’m glad you came into Sapphire that night…everything changed for the better, I’m coming to your job next sexy.” She placed his heavy jacket over her chilled skin and walked with Terry, latex gloves tight on their hands.

“Ready baby… one..two..three!” They watched as the heavy body splashed into the river, cinder blocks pulling it further and further beneath the deep dark waves.

“Oh wow that was soo exciting…I can’t believe he thought I liked him. One look at you definitely told him he wasn’t my type.” Terry let his hands slither around her waist as he led her back to his truck.

“Mm mm you’re too much woman for any man besides me…they wouldn’t survive a night with you. I could definitely see you poisoning a man because he left your little beauty products unorganized.”

“Hey that’s a pet peeve of mine, you touch it you better put it back how you found it.“ she pointed a finger at him and grabbed his hand to step up into his truck. If it was one thing he had learned about Khia it was that she loved organization, everything had its own nook and cranny and it had better be exactly as she left it.

“Yes mam…though I’d rather you put a pillow over my face or something. At least when you lifted it up I’d be looking dead at you laughing.” She poked at his side as they shared a laugh, bright headlights pulling them out of the darkness and back towards the city.

“I’d sit something else on your face..fuck that pillow. You eat ass don’t you?…and don’t lie.”

“I’ll eat your ass..emphasis on your..I’ll stick this tongue anywhere you want me to, I never cared.”

“You’re a nasty nasty man Tj…nasty niggas deserve financial compensation for their work.”

“You plan on compensating some more Miss princess? Perhaps with dick down your throat this time?” He threw a raised brow her way before focusing back on the road.

“Mhmh and then some…now hurry and get us home man, I’m itchy.”

Terry put the pedal through the floor and sped home itching to enjoy part two of their escapade in the shower.

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A/N: * pours glass of wine and closes robe tightly* what yall staring at?😟

@keehendrixx @ovohanna24 @venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @starcrossedxwriter @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackerthings @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @invisiblegiurl @blackmoonchilee @talkswithdesi @notc0rtez @becauseimswagman1 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @kaylaahisthebestest- @mysteryuz @tvchi @vivaalenaa @23jammy

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #black oc #black woman oc # rebel ridge

[theoutcastrogue]

Ballads of the Hanged: Swinging from the Gallows Tree

A mixtape of execution ballads and assorted tales of guilt, wrath, terror, and defiance on the gallows, where all men are brothers.

[on spotify]

21 tracks, 1h 15min in full (spotify lacks one song)

I teased this many moons ago, and I finally finished it. No booklet in PDF form (too much hassle), but I got extensive liner notes, which you can also read here, for more pictures and a wider format. Enjoy!

LINER NOTES

1. Hans Zimmer - Hoist The Colours

Heave ho thieves and beggars never shall we die

What a heartbreaking thing to say on the scaffold. But we have to start with theatrics and a drum roll, and our introduction needs no introduction.

2007, from Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End OST lyrics: Ted Elliott & Terry Rossio music: Hans Zimmer & Gore Verbinski

2. Shirley Collins - Tyburn Tree (Since Laws Were Made)

Next stop, Tyburn: England's most notorious gallows. In The Beggar's Opera, the highwayman Macheath (later also known as Mack the Knife) observes that if they hanged rich criminals like they hang the poor ones, "'twould thin the land". Shirley Jackson subtly changed this to the better.

Since laws were made for ev'ry degree to curb vice in others as well as me, I wonder there's no better company on Tyburn Tree.

But since gold from laws can take out the sting, and if rich men like us were to swing, it would rid the land their numbers to see upon Tyburn Tree.

recorded 1966, released 2002 in Within Sound lyrics: John Gay, from The Beggar's Opera, 1728 music: traditional ("Greensleeves"), 16th century

3. Joan Baez - Long Black Veil

A country ballad about a man falsely accused of murder, who lets himself get dragged to the gallows because he won't reveal his alibi: an affair with his best friend's wife. It's been covered by a million people, here's Baez live.

The scaffold is high, eternity near, She stands in the crowd, she sheds not a tear, But sometimes at night, when the cold winds moan, In a long black veil she cries o'er my bones.

1963, from In Concert Part 2 lyrics & music: Lefty Frizzell, 1959

4. Oscar Isaac with Punch Brothers & Secret Sisters - Hang Me, Oh Hang Me

A poor boy who got "so damn hungry he could hide behind a straw", made his last stand with a rifle and a dagger, and has been all around this world, and is positively done with it.

They put the rope around my neck, they hung me up so high Last words I heard 'em say, won't be long now 'fore you die Hand me, oh hang me, and I'll be dead and gone Wouldn't mind the hanging, but the laying in the grave so long

2015, from Another Day, Another Time: Celebrating the Music of "Inside Llewyn Davis", after Oscar Isaac's rendition in Inside Llewyn Davis, 2013, in turn after Dave Van Ronk's rendition in Folksinger, 1962 lyrics & music: traditional American/unclear origin, folk song with various titles (I've Been All Around This World, The Gambler, My Father Was a Gambler, The New Railroad), first recorded by Justis Begley, 1937

5. Chapel Hill - Seven Curses

Cover of a Bob Dylan song, telling us the dark tale of a judge who's about to send a man to the gallows for stealing a horse, promises his daughter he'll show clemency if she agrees to sleep with him, and then reneges on his promise.

The next morning she had awoken to know that the judge had never spoken she saw that hanging branch a-bending she saw her father's body broken These be seven curses for a judge so cruel

2013, from One For The Birds lyrics inspired by Judy Collins's "Anathea" (1963), in turn inspired by the traditional Hungarian ballad "Feher Anna", who curses the judge "thirteen years may be lie bleeding" lyrics & music: Bob Dylan, recorded 1963, released 1991 in The Bootleg Series

6. Ewan MacColl - Go Down Ye Murderers

A song about Timothy Evans, a man accused of murdering his wife and child, which he denied until his last breath. They convicted him and hanged him in 1950. He was 25 years old. Three years later the real murderer, his neighbour John Christie, confessed, and the case played a major role in abolishing capital punishment in the UK.

The rope was fixed around his neck, and the washer behind his ear And the prison bell was tolling but Tim Evans did not hear Sayin' go down, you murderer, go down

They sent Tim Evans to the drop for a crime he didn't do It was Christy was the murderer, and the judge and jury too Sayin' go down, you murderers, go down

1956, from Bad Lads and Hard Cases: British Ballads Of Crime And Criminals lyrics & music: Ewan MacColl

7. Jennifer Lawrence - The Hanging Tree

One of the stranger things that can happen at the hanging tree is camaraderie. "On the gallows tree, all men are brothers", to quote A Feast for Crows, and when the state murders, then in defiance, an execution ballad can become a protest song. Many have in real life, this one is fiction, from The Hunger Games. Wisely, the director asked the composer for a simple tune, nothing elaborate, something that could be "sung by one person or by a thousand people".

Are you, are you coming to the tree? Wear a necklace of rope side by side with me Strange things have happened here, no stranger would it be If we met at midnight in the hanging tree

2014, from The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 1 OST lyrics: Suzanne Collins music: James Newton Howard

8. Let's Play Dead - Heaven and Hell

A fairly traditional execution ballad written recently for the series Harlots. Margaret Wells sings it to herself for consolation and courage, as she sits alone in a cell, waiting to get dragged to the gallows.

I'm no more a sinner than any man here I'm no less a saint than the priest at god's ear But now I am snared, they will punish me well With a ladder to heaven and a rope down to hell

2018, from the single Heaven and Hell, for Harlots Season 2 Episode 7 lyrics & music: Let's Play Dead

9. Odetta - Gallows Pole

Probably the most well-known execution ballad of the 20th century, thanks to several iconic renditions. This one remains my favourite.

Hangman, hangman, slack your rope, slack it for a while I think I see my father coming, riding many a mile Papa did you bring me silver, did you bring me gold? Or did you come to see me hanging by the gallows pole?

1960, from At Carnegie Hall lyrics & music: traditional (Child 95 / Roud 144), known under many other titles ("Hangman", "The Maid freed From the Gallows", "The Prickle-Holly Bush"); this version is directly influenced by Lead Belly's "Gallis Pole" (1930s), and they both informed Led Zeppelin's 1970 version

10. Johnny Cash - 25 Minutes to Go

Peak gallows humour, uproariously funny and defiant, and somehow still conveying the terror of a man who's about to die and emphatically doesn't want to. Performed live at Folsom Prison.

Then the sheriff said boy I'm gonna watch you die, 19 minutes to go So I laughed in his face and I spit in his eye, 18 minutes to go Now here comes the preacher for to save my soul, 13 minutes to go And he's talking about burning but I'm so cold, 12 minutes to go

1968, from At Folsom Prison lyrics & music: Shel Silverstein, from his 1962 album Inside Folk Songs

11. Johnny Cash - Sam Hall

A classic execution ballad with many versions (see here for its complicated history), some of which are stoic and dignified, and others humorous. But this one brims with rage. Sam Hall will not be repenting on the gallows, and he'll see you all in hell.

My name it is Sam Hall and I hate you one and all And I hate you one and all, damn your eyes

2002, from American IV: The Man Comes Around lyrics & music: : traditional, 18th century broadside ballad, Roud 369

12. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Up Jumped the Devil

A song about a man doomed from the start to play the villain’s part, and the origin of this blog’s #swinging from the gallows tree tag.

Who's that hanging from the gallow tree? His eyes are hollow but he looks like me Who's that swinging from the gallow tree? Up jumped the Devil and he took my soul from me

1999, from Tender Prey lyrics: Nick Cave music: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

13. NOT ON SPOTIFY: Dead Rat Orchestra - The Black Procession

This ballad imagines a sinister procession of 20 criminals (black tradesmen brought up in hell!), each with their own specialty (it's mostly thieves of some sort), on the way to the gallows. The last and worst of them is the thief-catcher, and if one of them is innocent, they'll all go free. But of course none of them are. It's written in thieves' cant (lyrics and more context here), and the chorus means: "Look well, listen well, see where they are dragged, up to the gallows where they are hanged."

Toure you well; hark you well, see where they are rubb’d, Up to the nubbing cheat where they are nubb’d.

2015, from Tyburnia: A Radical History Of 600 Years Of Public Execution lyrics: from The Triumph of Wit by J. Shirley, 1688 music: Robin Alderton, Daniel Merrill & Nathaniel Robin Mann

14. John Harle & Marc Almond - The Tyburn Tree

And where does the Black Procession lead? To Tyburn, of course. The dark gothic side of Marc Almond.

The Tyburn Tree, I weep for thee, blood in the roots 'Tis not a tree with bark and leaves of spring awakening 'Tis not a tree with blossom and fruit, 'tis not a tree No boughs to bend beneath the unruly breath of winter No memories of woods warmed by spring's sweet touch 'Tis not a tree — take a ride to Tyburn and dance the last jig

2014, from The Tyburn Tree (Dark London) lyrics: Marc Almond music: John Harle

15. CocoRosie - Gallows

Speaking of dark and gothic.

They took him to the gallows, he fought them all the way though And when they asked us how we knew his name We died just before him, our eyes are in the flowers Our hands are in the branches, our voices in the breezes And our screaming is in his screaming

2010, from Grey Oceans lyrics & music: Sierra Rose Casady & Bianca Leilani Casady

16. The Tiger Lillies - Hang Tomorrow

In their Two Penny Opera, the pioneers of dark cabaret reimagine Brecht’s Threepenny Opera, and take all the suaveness out of Mack the Knife. Here they also take all the fight out of him. What's even left? A pathetic empty husk, a bastard (let's not forget that Brecht's MacHeath is no rogue with a heart of gold, he's a horrible man) who can't even be intriguing. How disturbingly pedestrian.

So here I am in jail again, oh god it stinks of piss I've been in here since I was young, so I can reminisce It's looking rather grim this time, it's looking rather bad But if I swing tomorrow in some ways I'll be glad

2001, from Two Penny Opera lyrics & music: Martyn Jacques

17. Tom Hollander - Ballad In Which MacHeath Begs All Mens' Forgiveness

In The Threepenny Opera, Mack the Knife stands on the scaffold and asks for pity. No point being judgmental now, that he's about to die. He morbidly describes how his dead body will end up, and then he lashes out at everyone, cops and criminals (same difference), while still begging them all for forgiveness. Very VERY sarcastically. The ballad's concept is borrowed from François Villon (see below), and this translation is unusually bold (honorific, see here and here for other translations and context).

You crooked cops with your Mercedes, your mobile phones, your trendy jackets, your cuts from drugs and dice and ladies, your Scotland Yard protection rackets.

Let heaven smash your fucking faces, slash you and let the blood run free and break you in a thousand places. I've pardoned you. You pardon me.

1994, from The Threepenny Opera - Donmar Warehouse Original Cast lyrics: Bertolt Brecht 1928, loosely inspired by François Villon's "Ballad of the Hanged" c. 1489, translated by Jeremy Sams 1994 music: Kurt Weill 1928

18. Saga de Ragnar Lodbrock - Ballade des pendus

And here's the OG Ballad of the Hanged, written in the 15th century by the OG poète maudit, François Villon (translation here). It paints an indelible picture of strung up corpses swaying in the wind, decaying, pecked by birds, ravaged by the elements and time. And crucially, it's in the first person. The hanged speak, begging their fellow-humans for pity, and god for forgiveness.

Frères humains, qui après nous vivez, N'ayez les cœurs contre nous endurcis, Car, si pitié de nous pauvres avez, Dieu en aura plus tôt de vous mercis. Vous nous voyez ci attachés, cinq, six: Quant à la chair, que trop avons nourrie, Elle est piéça dévorée et pourrie, Et nous, les os, devenons cendre et poudre. De notre mal personne ne s'en rie; Mais priez Dieu que tous nous veuille absoudre!

recorded 1979, released 1999 in the Saga de Ragnar Lodbrock reissue lyrics: François Villon, c. 1489 music: Saga de Ragnar Lodbrock

19. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - The Mercy Seat

Honorary inclusion, a song not about hanging: the mercy seat is the electric chair. But the lyrics are a punch and this is a torrent of a song, a whirlwind, a masterpiece, a 7-minute cynic snarl. So it couldn't possibly get left out of this compilation.

And the mercy seat is awaiting, and I think my head is burning And in a way I'm yearning to be done with all this measuring of proof An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth (a life for a life and a truth for a truth) And anyway I told the truth, and I'm not afraid to die (and I'm afraid I told a lie)

1999, from Tender Prey lyrics & music: Nick Cave

20. Graveyard Train - Ballad For Beelzebub

And after? Welcome to Hell, ladies and gents, and bards. (Bards are rogues, too.) The Graveyard Train play a kind of Southern Gothic (but very southern, they're Australian), and here they entertain the thought of a band that ends up in hell and has to keep playing, without end, for an audience that can't hear. What a bleak prospect.

Well the air on the stage is burning our lungs And we're all going deaf from the beating drums And you can't see a thing for all the blood and the sweat in our eyes

Well we played till we died, and now we're all dead But the Man says we got to get up there again And you can't come down till the brimstone turns to ice

2008, from The Serpent And The Crow lyrics & music: Graveyard Train

21. Samuel Kim feat. Colm R. McGuinness - Hoist the Colours

Yo ho, all together Hoist the colours high Heave ho, thieves and beggars

But we won't end in hell. The only acceptable ending to this compilation is the triumphant version (wait for it) of its beginning: a pirate's end. Traditionally the gibbet, yes, but also the ghost ship that still sails, the ripple that still travels, and the story that still gets told.

Did I stutter the first time?

NEVER SHALL WE DIE

[em-harlsnow]

i feel like people forget when they’re writing mickey that his issues with intimacy were not just internalised homophobia. obviously, internalised homophobia was a huge reason why he struggled with ian and coming to terms with loving him. but it’s not the only reason he was so scared of being close to him.

mandy and mickey are eerily similar people in my opinion. their abusive home means that both of them find the concept of someone caring about them unbelievable and ridiculous and fake because they never had care as kids. if mickey had no internalised homophobia, he would still probably not have kissed ian until season 3 in my opinion just from fear of intimacy and affection.

i don’t like when people seem to think internalised homophobia is the only thing going on. they act as if once mickey gets over that, or terry dies or something, that he’d just be totally fine with ian or a guy. i don’t think that’s true, because mandy clearly struggles with things like expressing emotions, people caring about her, people loving her (things u need in a relationship) and she doesn’t have any internalised homophobia (because she isn’t gay). I think mickey’s the same way.

In a way i think the struggles mickey has are slightly different because he’s a guy and men have the whole toxic masculinity ‘boys don’t cry’ issues, so i think mickey would probably struggle more with emotional connections and being open about feelings than Mandy (again, in a miracle world where internalised homophobia isn’t a thing). we even see that idea with how mandy tells lip she loves him much earlier than mickey.

i would be interested to see what mickey would be like without the internalised homophobia because he’d still have issues. He’s a victim of severe child abuse, he’s going to take more from that time than just ‘i hate myself because im gay’. i don’t like when people write him with that very narrow narrative, because there’s so much more stuff to explore in his character.

anyway, this was a huge ramble and i don’t know if it made much sense. i understand why people focus on the internalised homophobia, but in my opinion that’s not by any means the only thing he struggles with. i love fics that explore his issues beyond that.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

A Bump In The Night: Part 5- The End

Summary: With the baby growing, it is becoming to difficult to hide it anymore. Threats were made, Pol hardly even batting an eye at you still worried sick about Michael. Meanwhile Lizzie still has her intentions and is willing to make a bargain with the devil himself in order to ensure Tommy is hers, and James is yours as it should have always been. The only thing is, they don't realize Tommy is and will always be one step ahead and has plans of his own, he knows how to press people to tell the truth.

Warnings: Kidnapping, incest, pregnancy, mentions of arranged marriage, violence, assault, non consensual touching, guns

Taglist: taglist: @calmingmelody96 @sunflower-tia @haydenpookiebear @star017 @sweetcheesecakesblog @mamawiggers1980 @calam-arii

3 months prior

"Oh for godsake Thomas" Polly rushed through the kitchen like a bat out of hell in disbelief that thing could get any worse, anymore disturbing what in the fuck were you thinking! She slammed her hands down on the wooden table, spitting her venomous words with such vile and anger.

"She will marry James! Word will get out about the two of you fucking in that filth riddled forbidden bedroom! Enough people know already! You can't marry her! It isn't right and neither is that rotted fruit in the womb! Are you out of your god damn righteous mind because I will help the both of you find it!" You cowered in your seat shamefully, your feelings hurt while your heart was racing about ready to burst out of your chest. How could someone that you love say such hateful words about he r own kin? Yes it was wrong but the child bared no play in this family affair.

Tommy stood their clenching his jaw, an animalistic anger widening his blue eyes as he noticed your lip quivering. You hated conflict he needed to remind himself and Pol of that but she was too far gone to hear anything he had to say, there was only when option which was to level the playing field.

"She will not marry him! You want to know why Pol, eh? You want to know why?" Spit was flying from between his lips, anger rising and pumping and in his chest. He flicked his cigarette in Polly's tea, slamming a fist at one of the cabinets.

"She is pregnant with my child! Those boys, those Birmingham low life fucking scum don't give a fuck about her! But I do! I will not throw her or our child in harms way. So with the utmost, tumultuous disrespect go on and fuck yourself as far as your bastard of a son goes. You bring up one more word about my unborn child I will ensure Michael will never been seen or heard again, and I will blow all of us up in this fucking house and if you want to play me, you should know better than anyone, I will win." Polly went quiet, gulping back her fear and anger. What was she to do when she still had no clue of Michael's whereabouts or what Tommy may have told his men to do with him. What if he gave him away to someone as bargaining chip? The Shelby's had many many enemies over the years, the list going on and on to the point Pol didn't even know where to start.

Th dark turn of events made you nauseous, what will happen when this child is born? Will these problems still occur, are you going to have to walk on eggshells, constantly being terried that your own family would be out to get you? Maybe Pol was right, maybe it would be better just to get rid of it but the idea of aborting something, someone that was made from a powerful, endearing form of love hurt you immensely. You could just picture it now their baby bright blue eyes that looked just like Tommy's yearning to be loved and taken care of. Excusing yourself from the table Tommy raised his hands up in irritation with Pol about her insensitive comments toward you.

Fast forward to now...

Your bump was growing, you were becoming too big for your typical everyday clothes but Tommy has been such a lamb in giving you his, ensuring the maids were checking in with you when he was away for business. Today's business in particular was a cause for concern as he had a meeting with Lizzie. You weren't so much worried about Tommy as you were her making a move on him or trying to outsmart him to where you would marry James in just a few days.

Your hands cradled your tummy anxiously, nibbling on your nails while you paced the room waiting for him to return. Tommy knew how you were and insisted everything would be alright. A knock at the door startled you from your thoughts, probably Frances again seeing if you needed anything. She really lived up to Tommy's expectations in caring for you, not going more than thirty minutes of checking on you in fear of losing her job, which you couldn't blame her the family paid her very well, even insisting on free time for herself and occasionally allowing her to have dinner with everyone, she did make the meals after all.

Twisting the knob, the phone started to ring, your heart thudding in your chest thinking about how maybe it was Tommy calling to check in on you and give you an update on the situation, but before you could think any further, you were met with a wetted cloth pressed harshly against you nose and mouth, the last thing you saw being a blurry image of a man that looked familiar...

"Shhh, shh, it'll all be over soon sweetheart..."

Meanwhile Tommy tapped his foot anxiously, Lizzie sitting across from him with an unhappy face and her arms crossed. She had been getting nowhere with her plan. When you didn't or Frances hadn't answered the phone his eyebrows furrowed together as he rang again, and once more after. Still no response, something seemed dreadfully wrong.

"You're not trying to get a hold of that whore of a sister you have are you. Don't play stupid with me Tommy, the town talks and it's quite obvious she is baring with child isn't she? We know it's yours. I can assure you it's far too late though, she should be gone by now. This is the part where you thank for taking care of your problem." At her bold statement, reality set in that she was behind this or at least was involved. Tommy hung the phone up calmly, taking in a deep breath and raising his eyebrows with a narrowed look of threatening, crystal blue eyes.

In a hasty hurricane of emotions Tommy whipped his hand back, slapping Lizzie across the face, not once but twice cheek to cheek, knocking the wind out of her hair and disheveling her once perfect hair. She grasped at her jaw in shock before Tommy cusped her chin, forcing her to look into his dead sea eyes.

"Listen to me and listen closely. There has never been a connection to us. Now you can dream on in this fairytale word of yours but what happens between my family is none of your business. As far as I'm concerned you are just another whore on the street, opening your legs to any man who will give you what you won't work for yourself. If you think your life is hard now, then tell me where she is before I make it worse." Lizzie was blindsided by the intimidating man's harsh words. He had never snapped at her like that before but maybe that was what she needed for him to get his point across that this was not a game she wanted to play.

"Now, if you know something I suggest you tell me."

-

Sirens were the first thing you heard as you slowly came back to reality, vision blurry and hearing rendered. The fuzzy image was like looking at an etch a sketch a child drew, all you could make out was two men chatting across the room, one being tall and dressed in a white long sleeve shirt, the other one slightly shorter but the more submissive one by the way he was slouched over cowering.

When you released a low groan, it was clear you were being gagged by what felt like cloth, limbs tied to the chair you were sat in, along with your wrists nowhere for you to go. Your vision became clearer as you blinked rapidly, now able to make out who this man was. Tommy had tried to kill him long ago, he was a dangerous man.

Perching his eyebrow up with your sudden cognitive awareness, he picked up a shiny metal object approaching you like an animal did it's prey, yelling at the other man to get out.

Fucking Mosley...

"Good morning sweetheart, you look quite rough but that body-" His hand flicked at the buttons of your shift, revealing your cleavage, wasting no time ins grasping at the cushiony skin, causing you to wince and shake your head vigorously.

"Ravishing, aren't you?" You tried to scream through the makeshit gag, only making him chuckle darkly, green eyes shimmering in the dimlit room. Glancing behind him, the walls were coated with luxurious wallpaper and you could hear the sounds of music just outside the door, surely there were other people here, only intensifying your fear. Where the fuck was Tommy?

"Now let's see what else we are working with, hm?" He untied the sweat pants you were wearing, the bump now resting out as clear as day. Your breathing increased rapidly when he slid the blade down your stomach, tears flowing freely.

"If you wanted a child and not an abomination, I'd love to give you the pleasure Y/N.. but first this has to go." He pressed the blade into your skin sharply, shedding blood instantly. In a fight or flight response, you headbutted him with all the force you could. He dropped the blade, but perhaps that wasn't a smart move after all.

"Why you little bitch!" He sent a powerful blow across your face, knocking you out once more.

"Fucking Shelby's."

-

Walking into the pub, wind rustling his hair, there he found Arthur sat at the bar wasting away the same as any other day. When they locked eyes, Arthur huffed not having anything to say to Tommy as he demanded another glass of whiskey from the barmaid, taking a glance at her cleavage when she wasn't paying attention and smirking to himself.

"Everybody out! Family business." Well there went Arthur's fun, fucking Tommy always sucking it right out of the room.

Tossing his hat onto the bar, he sat on the stool throwing Arthur's glass over the bar onto the floor where it shattered.

"What the fuck Tommy, can't have one fucking drink, eh?"

"Y/N's missing. I have an idea of where she is, but we need to move fast eh?" As soon as Tommy mentioned that you were gone, he demanded information as to who took his baby sister.

"James and fucking Lizzie thought up a grand plan, only reason I got it out of her was because I know her fucking past, parts she didn't know I knew but that's besides the point. They've made contact with someone from our past Arthur, and I have a great idea of where she may be. She didn't give me a name but I didn't need one. My men saw James after our meeting going into a club 5 miles from here." Arthur sat their contemplating the right thing to do, you were his sister after all but that didn't mean he wasn't disgusted by the revelations he encountered that first night.

Still not speaking, he ignored Tommy simply huffing in disbelief that Tommy would come to him for help. Why should he? Incest was a crime, a disgusting relationship and he would not stand by it, he was disappointed in both of you. Taking the hint Tommy carried on.

"Arthur I don't ask much of you, I've never once judged you from your past, I've always been at your side now I need you to be here for me...You may not agree with the situation but I need not remind you she is our sister, she needs us. Who knows who the fuck has her or what they are doing with her. I need you brother." Arthur brushed his hand through his oily hair, down over his beard contemplating. Tommy had a point and fuck did he hate when he always did, however you were not the only Shelby missing.

"What about Michael? Hm? He's a Shelby too that only one of us in the room knows where he is. He's Pol's kid for fucks sake Tom. Where is he?" Tom shook his head, uninterested in relaying those details just yet, once you were back and he could see with his very own that you were unharmed and the baby was okay then he would spill.

"That information is not important now is it? Y/N is a sweet, innocent girl and she's always been there for everyone Arthur, can you say the same about Michael, 'cause I can't." He had a point there, Arthur remembering all the times Michael screwed him over and Pol expecting them to just forgive him because of the last name he shared. It was bullshit.

Tommy had plenty of dirt on his brother but he didn't operate like that, he was Arthur's weakspot and he knew that, he didn't have to use his past against him for him to give in and fall in line with his requests and orders. Nodding, Arthur slammed the rest of his drink, groaning and following Tommy out the door.

"You smell like shit." Tommy tried to make light of the situation, setting a subtle reminder that neither had to agree with the others decisions they just needed to be there for one another.

"Ah shut up Tom. Who's ass are we killing this time, hm?"

-

With Tommy being gone, Polly was making herself at home in his office, digging through the drawers of his desk, scattering papers across the room looking for any information that might help her find her son, but there was nothing. Now that you were missing, she'd be damned if she was going to lose her own kid, putting him first in a selfish way.

A knock at the door startled her, thinking it may be Tommy until the voice spoke.

"Relax Pol, it's just me." Oh thank god, it was just John.

He walked in with sympathetic eyes, hating see his aunt in such a desperate state of mind without a hint of a starting point to find Michael but he knew something and she could tell.

In a moment of silence, Pol pointed her cigarette accusingly at him, blowing smoke into the brisk air of the room.

"You never come in to Tommy's office unless he's here. What do you know, where is he?!" John put his hands up surrendering the idea of him indeed knowing something, but he wasn't here just for that.

Tommy clued him in on the plan, asking him to stay home and keep Pol subdued, and to inform her Michael would be home soon unharmed but only after you were safely secured in his arms once again.

"Michael is safe. He will be home later after Y/N is found alive and safe. He forced him to work in the states and keep business affairs civil to bring the company in money.

A wave of relief washed over her, but when she heard who they think had taken you a dreadful, terrified feeling rushed through her veins. She didn't think it would go this far, that James and Lizzie would be so spiteful, not that she was much better herself. But never this bad.

"Where's Arthur?" John scoffed with a surprised yet irritated look on his face.

"Don't you in the least bit care about y/n and Tommy? I know they are on your shit list but they're family Pol, they're blood. We've all made mistakes but if they are happy just let them fucking be happy."

Pol stood their contemplating on the right thing to say, she couldn't separate her love for the both of you from her views on this relationship.

-

Kicking the door in Tommy walked into the club with determined eyes, searching for his target while Arthur walked behind him smoking a cigarette, waiting for the younger Shelby's queue to start fucking people up.

"You see him Tom?" He shook his head, but was still scanning the room while keeping his composure. Heads turned toward the family with looks of disgust, some with fear as they knew very well who the brothers were.

After a few sharp turns and corners, Tommy motioned toward Arthur to light this god damn place on fire and kill anyone that got in his way as they were both carrying. The boy spotted Tommy out of the corner of his eye but Tommy was faster, shoving him against the wall and cocking his gun beneath his chin.

"Where the fuck is she? I knew you were no good from the fucking start. What can't pull a beautiful, innocent girl so you go and have her fucking killed eh? Sounds like an insecure little bitch to me. You didn't think I'd find you did you James?" He eyed the boy skeptically, his eyes beaming with anger, giving off a profound sense of dominance. He kneed him in the stomach, causing him to groan out in agony, almost falling to the floor if it weren't for Tommy holding up, ignoring the chaos behind him his brother was causing, a table flipping in the air and hitting the wall besides James's head. A piece of wood flying of a broken leg and striking him in the eye.

"Take me to the fucking room." He dropped the boy, kicking him in is back to go on and crawl if he had to. He didn't care, he just needed you.

The room was in a far back, closed off area of the club, away from people that no one would have heard your screams.

Barging in the room Tommy threw James's bruised, and battered body on the floor, ignoring his whimpers, seeing red when he saw Mosley's lips against the warmth of your neck, his hand caressing your breast while blood flowed freely from your nose. The cut mark of the sharp knife glistening in the light beaming in through the dirty window.

"Ah well if it isn't Mr. Shelby. It's been quite some time no?" When Tommy pulled out his gun once more, Mosley was quick to yank your head back by your hair, pressing the blade roughly into your skin.

"Ah, ah. Temper, temper. I was simply doing what the young lad here couldn't. You should know by now you can't escape me." When Arthur screamed angrily and bolted forward, Mosley dug the knife in deeper, causing you to scream out in pain, making Tommy grab Arthur by the arm and yank him back. He didn't want to risk it, not yet.

He breathed in the sea breeze scent of your hair, continuing to pepper kissed to your temple, making you squirm in discomfort from the man's unwanted advances. Your eyes locked with Tommy to put a stop to this, to end this right here right now. Seeing you in such a pitiful, abused state angered him but also shattered his heart to think Pol couldn't be trusted to look after you.

"What do you want eh? The campaign is fucking over, she has nothing to do with this. This fight is between us, the men. Now why don't we handle this like proper gentlemen eh? Let the girl go." Mosley wasn't convinced, shaking his head no. That would be too easy. He expected adventure, excitement, he wanted to see his enemy crumble, to have no choice but to admit to defeat.

"And why would I do that hm? If I recall correctly you tried to kill me. You've lost my trust Mr. Shelby. Quite the disappointment you turned out to be, now here I am trying to rid your baby sister of this rotted fruit in the womb that belongs to you." Tommy was blindsided, no one had actual proof that there was any relation more than a sister and brother relationship. Lizzie didn't have solid proof, James hadn't either just speculation he was bluffing but Tommy couldn't risk egging him on instead standing there silently with his hands folded in front of him in a gentlemanly manner as he tried to keep his composure.

"Mr. Mosley, not quite sure where you are getting false information from. After all I think the only one that may have fucked his sister is you, you do like to keep it in the family if I recall correctly." Mosley stiffened his jaw, grabbing a tightening his fist in your hair before shoving your head down and smacking his gun down on your head merely knocking you out as blood trickled down your forehead.

He was moving away from you slightly, they just had to wait for the opportunity, even though Tommy's heart was thudding inside his chest rapidly in fear of what would happen if they didn't make a move soon. Just a few more steps away from you...

"The per-petulant know it all, walking into my fucking club. These are my grounds Mr. Shelby, what kind of host am I not offering you a drink first? Maria-" Before he could finish yelling for a woman, in a swift motion Tommy went to throw a punch and reach for his hat to scrape his skin off while Arthur rushed to your unconscious aide.

Mosley was faster though, head butting the younger Shelby as he fumbled to take his gun from his jacket. The weapon falling out and sliding across the floor.

As Arthur undid your bindings, he noticed his brother needed help. Unlike Tommy, Mosley wasn't messing with him at the moment, giving him an advantage.

Pulling his gun from the back of his trousers he aimed it at Mosley, who grasped his own gun in his hand now, holding Tommy in a head lock with his forearm wrapped around Tommy's neck.

"Put the gun down Arthur, or a bullet goes through her head." Tommy was losing air and attempted to scream for Arthur to take the fucking shot.

Simultaneously, Arthur screamed a "fuck you" Mosley's way, both guns going off in a poetic yet dreadful scene of the dangerous men at play.

Blood splattered across the wall, Mosley's grip on Tommy loosening, making him drop to the floor on his knees as he tried to catch his breath with weary, fuzzy eyes glancing up. The bullet Mosley shot had only just missed your head by a centimeter, his lifeless body flailing to the ground as Arthur managed to him with a killshot in the middle of his forehead.

"You alright Tommy, hm?" He waved him off, stumbling to get up and pull you out of the chair at this godforesaken place. Carrying you out in his arms while Arthur picked his gun up off the floor, taking Mosley's in the process.

"C'mon sweet girl, let's go home." Relief washed over Tommy like an immense wait had been lifted from his shoulders.

He gave Arthur the go ahead to call the man he put Michael with to allow him to be released from his duties, too zoned out and only focused on you, worried if the baby was alright.

-

Your dreary, restless head rested against Tommy' shoulder as he walked you inside, spotting Pol and Michael standing by the fire place. A look of pity washing over your aunt's face when she noticed the bruises on your face, the dried blood painted from your hair down your forehead. She hadn't wished this upon you, she never would, she hadn't realized just how serious this situation was or how perhaps James wasn't the man she thought he could be for you.

Now with the family reunited even with strained ties, the house settled, the fire crackling in the background, Tommy laying your cold body down on the sofa beside it to warm you up, tossing a wool throw blanket over you in the process.

Pol was the first one to speak.

"I-I'm so sorry I-I didn't know I-" Tommy cut her off abruptly with the raise of his hand not even batting an eye at Michael standing in the room, acting as if he wasn't present.

"No, no you didn't know. You didn't take the time to know. Frances has already informed me that you were too wasted to even hear someone breaking in the fucking house. She had to hide in a fucking closet Pol. Look at her now, tell me is this far enough for you, or do you want her dead along with our child?" This place was no longer a safe space for you, and Tommy refused to put you in harms way ever again, too worried to even risk it because it was clear he could not trust anyone in the family to even care about your safety just because of one unplanned pregnancy.

When the early morning light peered in through the window, the sounds of bird chirping in the harmonious summer day, you woke up head pounding from the painful blows Mosley striked you with. Tommy was layed beside you, caressing your cheek delicately and lovingly, glancing down at your weak state with sympathetic eyes.

"Good morning love. I set two tylenol on the table with a glass of water. We should get going soon, we don't have long until the others wake." With a puzzled look, you glanced around the room only to see your belongings no longer there. Only the dusty old furniture that was handed down through generations.

"W-what?"

"We're going away for awhile, at least until she is born." Your eyebrows propped up with excitement and surprise, how did he know the gender?

"That's right she. I had Frances contact the doctor. Now take your pills and let's get the hell out of hear because I won't risk your health and safety again nor hers." The tears started welling up in your eyes, insisting on taking the pills to go in the car. You were finally getting away, having the light at the end of the tunnel with Tommy by your side. He assisted you up, holding on to you with a protective, and caring hold to help you into the car.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the events from the previous night still washing over you, reminding you both as you stared back at the house you grew up in of why you were leaving.

"Well, wh-where are we going?"

"Far, far away from here my beautiful girl." He took your hand in his, digits scanning over you smooth skin before resting a kiss to your forehead, smiling like a fool in love that the day had come, he finally was going to have the ability to be happy, no arguments, no danger, just a family of his own with the girl he shouldn't have loved the way he did.

[blueberryismilk18]

Heyyy, I just found your writing and I love it so much 😭

I just wanted to ask for bistro huddy (idk if I spelled it right 😭) headcanons with a s/o that has anger issues. Like whenever they serve a rude costumer they can hardly contain themselves from smacking them with the turkey sandwich they ordered 😭😭. You could do whatever characters you like. You don’t have to take my request if you don’t want to btw. I don’t wanna force anything. Anyways, I hope you have a great day/night! Bye bye!!! ☺️

Heyy, I really enjoyed this one:3 sorry I’ve been gone for a while I had a very bad writing burn out. I’m gonna try and get as many done today as I can so expect more later! Hope you enjoy (none of my head canons are ever proof read so if there is a spelling mistake lmk)

Ruby, Terry, Joey, and Pickles with a S/O with anger issues

ℜ𝔲𝔟𝔶 (fem reader)

💋 She definitely has anger issues too but she can keep it under wraps.

💋 Will shit talk about the Customer(s) bothering you

💋She would probably go into the freezer with you to scream about the entire kitchen staff while you scream about the customers

💋 If you ever actually flip out at a customer she would lowkey be proud, or like in awe. I don’t think she’d encourage it but also she kinda would…

💋 “I didn’t think you had that in you, kind of stupid though. I mean It was kinda hot.”

💋 There’s a reason the chefs aren’t servers…

𝕋𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕪 (Masc reader)

👔 Lets you sit in his office(? Does he even have one… I’m assuming yall) to cool off and take a breather

👔 While your there he will tell you about how he understands it’s easy to get frustrated

👔 Trust me, this man understands. He goes through it almost every day.

👔 “I tell ya love, I know. I got Tim always calling my ass for things that, I tell ya, are just plain stupid!”

👔 Lets you talk about it and will probably crack a few jokes with you to help you feel better

👔 You flip out at a customer, you best believe this man it’s taking your side. What are they gonna do, tell the manager?!

ᴊᴏᴇʏ

🍨LOSES HIS TEMPER TOO! 

🍨 NOBODY is gonna treat his prince/princess like that?!

🍨 He flips out at the customer for you.

🍨 Another man who understands how idiotic people can be (despite being kinda dumb himself.)

🍨 “What the fuck are these people doing! If they gotta problem direct them to me sweetheart! Cause they could have a sandwich alright, a fucking knuckle sandwich!”

🍨 if you flip out, he would literally praise you for it, men’s glad you finally stuck up for yourself

𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜

🍭 I don’t think he really understands why your upset when you come to the back 

🍭 Once you explain he would get mad too! 

🍭 How could you let them talk to you like that?! 

🍭 “Let me at him!”

🍭 offers you candy to make you feel better, will give you a few hugs to help you cool off

🍭 Will take you outside to the back for a bit to breathe while he says some (stupid) sweet things to make you laugh

🍭 If it keeps happening with the same person maybe he’ll get riled up enough to confront them, probably will chicken out last second

🍭 If he finds out you flipped out, he hyped you up after, even after getting yelled at by Terry

🍭 “You did so amazing! That’ll teach them!”

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 11 | You're Supposed To Know (2)

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.3K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut (alluding to sexual situations), heavily dialogue-centered, angst, verbal argument, physical fighting, blood, law enforcement involvement, fatphobia, use of the n-word

Synopsis: What will happen when Havana comes face-to-face with Terry's spiteful ex? As tension and emotions build during a close encounter, Havana must battle to control herself and the situation. Things fall apart when Terry is hurt, causing all hell to break loose. As if things couldn't get worse for Havana, this creates a myriad of internal problems for her— guilt, shame, and regression.

🦋Big Mama (series) => 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

“Okay, we have the chocolate brownie ice cream and the popcorn. What else?” Monnie asked me while I pushed the cart through the grocery store's aisles.

“Oouu, I want pickles!” I exclaimed a little too loudly.

“Pickles! ‘Vana, in a minute, I’m gone start to think your ass is pregnant. Do we need to get a test, girl?” Monnie said, standing in front of the cart.

“Shut up, please. The last thing I want to do is think about being pregnant for that man,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Damn, he already got demoted. Just two days ago, he was bae and hubby, now he is that man. Baby, you don't play, huh?” Monnie said, laughing into her hand.

“I’m beyond pissed right now. Why the fuck wouldn't he just tell me?” I said as I released a deep breath.

“Well…” Monnie said as she paused in the aisle.

I turned to face her. “Well? What you mean by that?” I asked, crossing my arms across my chest.

“To be honest, Terry probably knew you would beat his ass and her’s, too. ‘Vana, you've changed a lot. But,… that southern girl who was whoopin’ grown ass men wit’ no problem is still there. You ain't to be played wit’, and I think Terry knows that,” Monnie said, raising her hands in defense.

“Okay. You act like I was walkin’ around beatin’ on men. They all had it comin’, Monnie. I was not the problem, but these hands were solvin’ them. How is that my fault?” I asked, tilting my head at her.

“Look, I never said you were the problem. Let’s be honest; you're the only reason, ol’ boy who shall not be named, left me alone. He even told me he was scared of you. Baby, I used that to my full advantage every chance I got!” Monnie replied.

“Wait a damn minute. So, you're tellin’ me that you were tellin’ niggas I was gonna whoop them for fuckin’ wit’ you?” I gasped.

“Hell, yeah. You see ain't nobody fuck wit’ me,” Monnie said, smacking her lips.

“Get the fuck outta here!” I laughed.

Monnie walked up to me and fell out laughing on my shoulder. This was the first I had heard this. I knew men back home were a little intimidated by me, but I didn't realize it was this bad.

I heard someone whispering behind us as we laughed in the middle of the aisle. Monnie’s laughter was cut short as her head shot up to look in that direction. I turned to look over my shoulder. I could see two women at the end of the aisle. They were whispering and giggling back and forth like schoolgirls.

Monnie raised from my shoulder and stood in front of me. She leaned in close before speaking. “Don't freak out, okay? Those two have been following us around. At first, I thought I was trippin’ out, but now, I'm sure. Shorty wit’ the braids also mean-mugged you earlier. You know them or something?” Monnie asked, scrunching her face in confusion.

“No. I’ve never seen either one of them before. I mean… I don't think I know them,” I mumbled lowly. I was overcome with confusion and anxiety. “Look, just don't worry about it. They’re gone,” I said, turning Monnie around to head down the aisle in the opposite direction. Truth be told, Monnie was just as much of a hothead as me.

We continued to walk down the freezer aisle. We were forced to walk around a little longer because I needed to look for my pickles, and then we could leave. At the end of the aisle, I looked both ways before pushing the cart around the corner. I could hear Monnie sigh as she looked behind us.

“If it’s them, ignore it. I don't have time for it,” I said, looping my arm around Monnie’s.

“Hoes better not start. I’m gonna behave for now,” Monnie said, scoffing.

“Monnie!” I laughed, pulling her down the aisle.

I scanned the aisle for my pickles. I was in the mood for kosher baby dill pickles. It’s a shame my childhood obsession never ended.

I spotted the pickles on the bottom shelf. I squatted down to reach for the pickles.

“Damn! Bigger in person aren’t we?” said a woman’s voice.

I turned to face the voice, and both women from before were standing there. They were once again laughing.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I asked, standing up to put the pickles in the cart. I stood to my full height and moved towards the women.

“Nah, ignore it. Remember?” Monnie said, placing her hand on my chest. She turned me back around so I was no longer facing them. I grabbed the cart and began pushing it again.

“Monnie, if they keep following us, I'm going to lose my shit. What the fuck was that about?” I questioned. I couldn't wrap my brain around this whole situation.

That’s when it hit me— THE ONE WHO COMMENTED WAS TAYLOR! How the fuck did I miss that? I barely looked at her profile when she sent me the messages and screenshots about her and Terry.

“Monnie, that’s her. That was Taylor. I didn't notice at first. How the fuck didn't I catch that?” I said, face-palming myself.

“Wait which one?” she leaned in to whisper.

“The one who spoke,” I whispered.

“You know what? Let's just pay for our stuff and leave because I already don't like this bitch,” Monnie said, rolling her shoulders. “Havana?!” she blurted.

I looked at Monnie's face. I hadn't heard a word she said. I was dissociating because of my growing anger and agitation.

“Ah, shit. I know that look. ‘Vana, let's just go,” Monnie said, grabbing my arm.

“No, I want my damn pickles. Plus, if they know what's best for them, they'll leave me the hell alone. I'm already mad at the one person who could rel—!” I said before Monnie covered my mouth.

“Fine. Just shut up. I don't need to hear nothing else about what that man be doin' nasty to you,” she laughed.

Five minutes later

beep

beep

beep

“You're total is 13.87. Cash or card?” asked the cashier.

“Cash. Here you go,” I said, smiling at the middle-aged Hispanic woman.

“Out of 20. You're change is—,” she said.

“Now, we both know you don't need any more junk food,” said the one voice I didn't need to hear— Taylor's.

“Girl, don't start. ‘Vana stay focused,” Monnie said through gritted teeth. It was clear that she was becoming irritated with Taylor and her friend.

“Sorry, here's your change,” said the cashier.

“My bad. Have a good day,” I said back taking the change and placing it into my wallet.

Monnie grabbed the bag and pushed me in front of her. I was on high alert and so was she. She was either putting a barrier between me and Taylor or getting closer so she could go off.

As we headed towards the doors, I felt Monnie's grip tighten. I didn't like the fact that I wasn't watching her back. I tried to slow down, so we could walk side-by-side, but she pushed me to keep going.

Once we were at the doors, I felt something hit my shoulder. It was Taylor bumping into me.

“Oops. It was hard not to with you being so big and all,” Taylor said, waving her hands around.

“Aye, you betta chill. I'm holdin’ her off for now, but yo’ lil ass got one more comment before I—,” Monnie started.

“Before you what? She'll get tired before she even reaches me,” Taylor laughed.

“Oop!” said her friend giggling.

“You for sure betta shut the fuck up. Because I'll get on yo’ ass myself!” Monnie said, walking towards the other woman.

“Nope. They're not worth it. If they were gonna do something, they would've already. Let's go!” I called to Monnie while grabbing her arm and pulling her around Taylor and her friend.

“She thinks I'm scared of her. That's cute. Terry might be, but I ain't. Ain't shit about you frightenin’. Bigger they are, the harder they fall!” Taylor yelled as I was turning.

“Little girl, leave me the fuck alone before I snap yo’ ass in half. You know what? What the fuck am I talkin' for? Balls in your court, baby. Make a move,” I said as I eyed Taylor down.

Taylor and her friend just stood there.

“Exactly!” Monnie said.

“My point has been made. Scary asses!” I said, looking Taylor up and down as I walked out.

As I walked closer to the second set of automatic doors, I heard the rumble of an all too familiar truck.

“Uh oh, here comes that man,” Monnie said.

“I'm not in the mood for this,” I mumbled under my breath.

Before I could get through the doors, Terry came barreling in.

“You okay, mama? Look at me!” he said, holding my face.

“I'm fine. You need to check your lil friend. She fuckin’ with me on the wrong day,” I said, moving my head. Right now, I didn't want to be touched.

“I don't give a fuck about her. I love you, and you know that, ‘Vana. Please, can you just listen to me? Come home w—,” he said before being interrupted.

“Not you beggin’ this bitch. Really?” Taylor asked, crossing her arms.

“Shut the fuck up, please. Damn!” Terry barked. His voice was so intense it even scared me.

“Huh? Fuck you!” Taylor yelled at Terry as she walked closer.

I immediately stepped in front of him like a barrier, turning to face Taylor. “Terry, get in the truck. Now!” I yelled.

I turned to see Terry still standing behind me, looking down at me. Monnie was now standing near the door, eyeing Taylor's friend.

“Terence Richmond, get in the damn truck!” I spat.

Terry began to back up before finally turning to walk back out. I looked at Monnie, and she was in attack mode. I was trying my hardest to diffuse the situation.

“Monnie, go. I'm leaving with Terry,” I said, turning Monnie so she could walk out.

Monnie resisted gently not wanting to take her eyes off them. I nudged her a little harder.

“Okay!” Monnie said, throwing her hands up in defeat.

“Thank you,” I said. I walked out to see Terry's truck parked a few feet away from the entrance.

“I said in the truck not outside of it. Please, just—,” I said, closing my eyes and releasing a deep breath.

Before I could finish, I heard the automatic doors open again. I didn't even have to turn around I knew who it was.

“Aw, he don't listen, huh? You know Terry's always been stubborn,” she said. I could hear her walking closer.

I eyed Terry and motioned towards the truck. I wanted him in, now. I looked over to make sure Monnie was still heading towards her car. When I saw that she was, I moved closer to Terry.

“Havana, just get in. Please,” Terry pleaded.

“No, I need you to get in first. Please,” I said, sharpening my gaze. I saw Terry's eyes dart from me to Taylor. I was only doing this so she wouldn't bother him. Lord knows I would go to jail behind him.

Terry opened the door and got into the truck. I immediately felt Taylor's presence behind me. I turned around to see her close to Terry's truck. I took a deep breath and walked around the back of the truck to avoid her.

Terry started the truck as I came around the other side. I could see Taylor's eyes going back and forth between me and Terry. A smirk slowly spread across her face. I knew she was up to something, but I couldn't care. My main concern was getting me, Terry, and Monnie out of here quickly.

Monnie pulled up beside Terry's truck, facing the opposite direction. Before I could even reach the door, Taylor approached Terry's window. Unfortunately for him, he was too busy watching me. Swinging the grocery bag in her hand, she hit Terry's window. I see the glass break as Terry ducks away. Whatever was in the bag was glass as well. So when it broke open in the bag, it slipped out of a hole in the bottom, hitting Terry in the face.

Taylor turned away to run, but I was obviously quicker than she thought. Before Taylor could blink, I was on her ass. I snatched the back of her hooded jacket and yanked her backwards by her braids.

My hands went straight for her face, punch after punch landing without a problem. Her friend attempted to approach me, but Monnie wasn't having it.

I snatched Taylor by her hair, slinging her body into the front of Terry's truck. You could hear the impact as it collided with a thud. I saw red!

A bystander walked up to me, grabbing my hands. I pushed the man back, causing him to stumble.

“Nah, this is what she wanted! She should've left me alone!” I yelled as I continued to beat Taylor's ass. She was fighting for her fucking life. All she could do from this angle was scratch the hell out of my forearms.

“’Vana!” Terry yells. I had never heard him sound like this.

I look up to see a horrific sight. The left side of Terry's face is bloody. Now, I'm internally conflicted— do I continue to whoop her ass or check on Terry? I let Taylor go and push her head into the truck.

I run to the passenger side to open the door and climb in. I grab Terry and gently pull him towards me.

“Baby, look at me! Shit!” I yell, noticing the gash on his cheek.

“Havana, please!” Terry asked, holding his eye.

“I'm done. I'm done. I promise. Hey, let's go!” I said climbing over Terry.

I sat in the driver's seat.

I panicked when I remembered that Taylor was in front of the truck.

I leaned out the window and yelled at the crowd of people, “ Move her or else!”.

Unfortunately, no one was listening to me. Their only concern was me not leaving the scene. Fuck that!

I threw the truck in reverse and gassed it. I heard people begin to yell. I leaned over Terry to yell at Monnie.

“I'm taking him to the hospital! Follow me, please!” I yelled, shaking.

I whipped out of the parking lot and entered the somewhat busy street. Not caring, I drove down the turning lane. As I approached the stoplight it turned red.

“You better not! I'm not dyin', baby. I care about your life too. Relax, ‘Vana. I'm okay,” he said.

I slammed on the brakes at the stoplight. Glancing back and forth between Terry and the stoplight, I found myself growing more and more anxious.

“What's hurting?” I asked Terry as I softly caressed his cheek.

“My eye and my cheek. I feel like there's glass in it,” Terry groaned.

“I know it hurts, baby. We'll get there soon. Okay?” I said, stroking the back of Terry's neck.

Once the light turned green, I turned onto the next street. The hospital was less than a block away at this point. Before I could get there, I heard the wail of a police siren. I looked in the rearview mirror to see Monnie pulling over, but the police cruiser drove past her. I should've seen this coming.

I continue to drive, I don't pull over until I'm at the front entrance of the hospital. I quickly pull out my phone and text Monnie to come get Terry if they allow her. I quickly tell Terry the plan.

“I'm so sorry. I should've just left when we had the chance. I feel so stupid,” I said, feeling myself about to cry.

“Mama, calm down. I'm fine, and I'll be okay. Alright?” Terry said.

I shook my head yes. As I'm focused on Terry, there's tapping on my side of the truck. I turn to see the sheriff.

“Terry?! Hey, son! You good?” he asked leaning to get a closer look.

“He’s hurt!” I said frantically.

“I wasn't talkin’ to you, yet.” he spat, glaring over his sunglasses at me.

“Jim. She didn't do anything,” Terry said, leaning on the window.

“You stay here. Don't fucking move, girl! Terry, we're gonna get you out of there,” the sheriff said, walking to Terry's side of the truck.

He opened the door. I could hear footsteps behind the truck. It was Monnie.

“Listen, Jim. Can she take me in?” he asked, nodding towards Monnie.

The sheriff paused and gave Monnie a once-over. “Fine. Come get him, and be careful. That one is my only concern,” he said, pointing at me.

He helped Monnie lift Terry out of the truck. She pulled Terry's arm over her shoulder. I hated this.

I watched in shame as Monnie walked Terry towards the entrance of the hospital. The front doors opened and a man came out with a wheelchair.

As I watched them sit Terry in it, guilt washed over me. If I would have just left, none of this would have happened. This really was all my fault.

Tears were streaming down my face. As I watched the sheriff walk back to my side, I knew what was about to happen.

“Step out. Hands in the air. Now!” he yelled.

Female victim en route from Dixie's to McGraw General

“Fuck!” I said out loud. That had to be a radio transmission about Taylor.

“Just comply!” he said. His tone was laced with irritation.

I opened the door and stepped out of the truck. I immediately put my hands in the air.

“Do you have anything on you?” he asked.

“No, sir,” I said, calming myself down.

He proceeded to pat me down. “Do you know why I stopped you?” he asked, pulling my arms down.

“Yes, sir,” I sighed.

“Good. Then, you know why you're under arrest,” he said placing my hands behind my back.

Before I could even try to stop it, I broke down crying. Not because I was going to jail but because I was back in the same position I was back home. I had worked so hard to never let this happen again. Yet, here I was getting arrested for assault for the third time.

I felt like all of the progress I had made was in vain. If had let Taylor cause me to regress so easily, had I even changed at all? Or, was I pretending to be someone I'm not?

My mind began to cloud over with thoughts. I was once again the big, angry monster everyone painted me out to be— always angry, aggressive, and ready to attack. The girl everyone avoided and talked about.

As he walked me to his police cruiser, I felt a sense of dread and guilt arise. The thought of not being there for Terry hurt me more than any of the words Taylor said. This was all my fault, and I couldn't even be there for him. All I had to do was keep my hands to myself and walk away, but I didn't. Now, I have to live with that decision and its consequences. What the fuck is going to happen to me now?

A/N: Remember, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Taglist: @brattyfics @persethegawd @avoidthings @5headsupremacist @jimmybutlrr @episodes-ff @kimuzostar @insidefeelingofanadult @kirayuki22 @nayaesworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ariiijestertheklown @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @pocketsizedpanther @gg-trini @vivaalenaa @slutsareteacherstoo @skyesthebomb @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @babybratzmaraj @pinkpantheris @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi @helloncrocs @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @iburias @geee3bayyybeee3 @ineedmyaccountback @rebelrel0987 @prettypink-princesss @teeresaresa @dxddykenn @simplyzeeka @theglamclosetsl @melaninadorned

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |X| pirate!Eddie au

a/n here it is. the final chapter. I am so excited to share it with you all, just as much as it pains me that it actually is coming to an end. I've worked on this story for almost a year, and it had been a risk I had no idea how it would play out, but seeing how much everyone has enjoyed this story and supported me in my little experiment really made all the days I say in front of my computer screaming worth it <3 thank you all so so much for trusting the process

Series Masterlist

word count: 14.3k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences. hanging. men are pigs: implied mentions of past abusive experiences [of background characters]. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. prison. capital punishment.

there will be several mentions of other ST characters in this chapter, and some instances might not be the most favourable of portrayals, but this is not to indicate my opinion on them. I am simply intertwining universes. there is also a name spelled differently than in the shows and that's just for the sake of the setting.

Chapter 10: Lock and Key

“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.” ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic

Everything went into chaos, happening so quickly that you genuinely got the sensation of being frozen in time and space, just letting everything around you go by, unable to intervene. Your mind could not work at that speed to understand everything that was happening, too far down into a shock to catch up. But when you finally did, you screamed. 

‘No, father, no.’ You tried to push yourself away from him, but his grip was too firm. Even if you had, the chances of getting past the barricade of armed bodies to Eddie was impossible. ‘You can’t do that!’ you trashed around in his arms like a wild fish out of water. 

All your father did was pull you closer, further away from Eddie, who you could just make out from between the uniforms and bayonets. The glimpses you got of his face showed a stoic expression. He wasn’t even trying to fight it. The last thing you saw before you were turned around and practically handed over to someone was the chains on his wrists. 

‘Take her away from here,’ your father told his closest guard, ‘she’s hysteric.’ And perhaps you were, as you kept screaming at them to let go of you. The pleas quieted down the further from the harbour you got, changing into silent sobs by the time you reached the gardens of your home.

‘It’s alright, miss,’ the guard tried to calm you as best as possible. ‘You’re safe now.’ 

The pearly white building towered over you as you entered its shadows, and as soon as you did, you saw almost the entirety of the house staff standing in the main hall, awaiting you. Their faces blurred with their welcoming greetings and sweet words of comfort. A woman took you from the guard, immediately guiding you up the stairs, mumbling something to him and shouting about to the rest of the people around. You could not place any name to her face, and having always been quite good with remembering people, you could only assume she had been a new addition to the staff since you had last been home. Looking over everyone around you, most of them must have been. 

That’s right. Your father had always been keen on replacing the staff but usually had been around to witness it, take in the new batch from the beginning, and, most importantly, say goodbye to the old ones.

You wanted to protest at every corner you turned up to your room, but the group of maids that had accumulated around you was like a forcefield, unbreakable. One of them opened the large double doors that led to your room. There was barely any time for you to sink in the feeling of being back in it after so many weeks as you were pushed through another pair of doors. There, a bath had already been prepared, the water steaming hot. You let yourself be dragged to the centre of the room and mechanically put your arms up for the ladies to take your dress off. Had they always been this rough? 

They mumbled about the state of your dress to one another as if you weren’t even there, and in their defence, you weren’t. Your mind was miles away, barely aware of what was going on. The only thing that pulled you back into the room was the gasp of the women as your dress fell to the floor. You looked down at where all their eyes had locked in on. 

‘Did they do this to you, miss?’ One of them asked, pointing in fear at the scar on your ribs. It had gotten much smaller over the weeks, but compared to the rest of you, you could imagine how grotesque it might look to people like them. 

‘Uhm, no,’ you mumbled, ‘I tripped. On our ship.’ You barely recognised your voice as you spoke, too tired to put any emotion into them. The women looked at each other hesitantly before continuing on with their tasks. 

 You just about felt the hot water burn as they got you into the bath or poured it over your head to wash your hair. The scrub of the cloths over your limbs did practically nothing. All you could do was stare out ahead of you at the hawk engraved into the wood panelling on the wall across from you and how you had always seen it as a sign of comfort but now noticed how angry its eye looked. Staring directly at you at all times. You lulled your head slowly, trying to get it to look away, but it just followed you around until someone grabbed you by the side to stop you from twisting. 

‘Sorry, miss. Just trying to get out this knot.’ One of them said as she combed out your hair, tugging your entire head back against the edge of the bath. 

You had not even realised how much grime came with being on a boat full of pirates for weeks. Even though you had tried to wash yourself regularly, there was never enough fresh water. By the time the ladies were done, the water had gone cold, and your whole body was red and sore from the scrubbing.  You could barely feel your fingertips, but your nails were perfect again. 

Trembling, you got out of the bath and quickly were wrapped up in linen to soak up the water. Like any other day, they began to put your undergarments on, preparing you for a dress that you could not even think about the weight of, but no matter how many layers they put on you, you were still shivering.

Someone, you had no idea who, pulled a blanket over your shoulders and put a large cup of lemon tea into your hands. It used to be your favourite, but the sips tasted bitter no matter how much sugar you poured. You stood in the middle of the room, holding the cup and felt all their eyes on you, drinking your tea with a shaky hand. No matter how you held it or steadied your arms, the porcelain clinked together louder and louder until it smashed onto the ground, the hot liquid pooling around you. Before you could apologise, someone was on their knees cleaning it up. 

‘I am so sorry,’ you cried out, tears already threatening to return despite it being only a few minutes since they had dried up. With water pouring over your face and hair in the bath, the tears would have been washed away, but now there was nowhere to hide them.

‘No worries, miss,’ one of the maids said. She looked you up and down, a corset in her hands, clearly seeing a mess of a woman in front of her. ‘We should get you ready; there is a meal waiting downstairs and I am sure you’re famished.’

‘I am alright, I just want to—’ you wanted to disappear. Get out of everyone’s sight. You wanted to lock yourself in your room or run away, just be anywhere but here, surrounded by these strangers. You wanted Eddie. Where was he now? He must have been dragged into the dungeons. 

You pushed back the next load of tears that were breaking through.

‘Miss, we must insist.’ The maid said, somewhat concerned, and hesitated. ‘The food will do you good.’ And yet, the idea of eating now made you feel quite ill to the stomach.

‘I would really just like to be alone now.’ If you had more energy, your statement might have come out more pointed, giving you more edge over the staff. You would have fought them until you’d slam the door behind the last one, but instead, you let yourself be trapped into a dress—a beautiful green garment that the women were not shy to praise as they put it on you—and sent you off to the dining room.

Once, you would have walked these halls alone,  with your head held high and letting the steps of your heels announce your presence in any room, but now the clicking against the marble floors made you wince and the presence of the maids and guards following you certainly did not help to put your mind at rest. 

The dining table was set, filled from one end to the other with dishes, but you could barely stomach a spoonful. The same happened at dinner. You could not think of eating these extensive meals knowing that Eddie was kept locked up somewhere, most likely not given anything to eat since he had been arrested. Your mind was whirring with ideas, but each and everyone was immediately halted when you saw that there was nowhere in the house you could go without onlookers. The chances of you being allowed into the dungeons and speaking to him were close to zero. 

Having eaten exactly two bites from your plate, you excused yourself back to your room, where people were ready to get you out of your dress and into your nightgown. Once done, one of the maids was prepared to blow all the candles out, but you quickly stopped her. 

‘Wait,’ you called, ‘could you leave one on, please.’ 

The woman nodded and left one of the candles in the holder burning before leaving the room. You sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to catch your breath, but the room felt so stuffy—a ridiculous thought considering the room was bigger than Eddie’s quarters, possibly the double of it. The candle only gave light to its nearest surroundings, letting the rest of the space, and you with it, be eaten up by the night. It was overwhelming, together with the hot air swallowing you whole. As your chest tightened, you ran to the window, pushing it open. You greeted the cool night air with a sigh. 

Nights at home were never quiet, but unlike in Saint Claire, it was not drunken brawls that kept the shores alive but the rustle of waves and the chirping cicadas. The streets buzzed with the sounds of nature, illuminated in silver by the moon, now an almost complete sphere. 

You had always loved the view of your room, but now it felt more like a cruel joke as you could look out at the harbour and the gates of Star Port. It was like a million pinpricks stabbing into you. The Hellfire was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t expect anything less. With Eddie arrested, it would have been mad of the crew to stay behind, risking their own capture. 

Still, the feeling you got at the sight of the empty harbour sank deep into your stomach, not helping with how you had felt before opening the blinds, and when you closed them again, the room seemed to have grown in size. Large, cold, empty, with you standing in the middle staring at your bed. Sitting on it, let alone sleeping, was impossible. The second you touched the mattress, you were scared you’d sink straight through the cotton, and the sheer size of it…

You lay there for hours, deciding whether to curl up and make yourself as small as possible or to spread your arms out in a poor attempt at taking up some of the space meant only for you. Every time you moved, your hand would grab for the sheets, hoping that one of those times, you would feel more than air. If you opened your eyes, you would see him sleeping peacefully by your side. 

Most of your pillows had met the ground as you threw them in frustration.  You had spent years in this bed, perfectly fine, and only several days with Eddie. So, why were you feeling this profound loss over his absence besides you? It wasn’t fair. 

Eventually, you managed to fall to sleep, quite literally, as pure exhaustion tipped you over and made your head finally hit down. There were no dreams, nightmares or memories to haunt you, as you were awoken before any of them could take shape. Firm knocks on the door announced your maids, and they filled the room in their designated corners. 

‘Good morning, miss.’ They said chirpily as they got you dressed and ready for another day. All you replied with throughout the entire process was a mumbled ‘’morning,’ which you hoped could be blamed for having only been awake for a few minutes.

‘Breakfast will be served soon,’ you heard. The mention of food again twisted at your guts, but an idea began to bloom in your mind.

‘Will my father be there?’ He seldom dined with you, leaving you to eat your meals in the company of the staff, but you assumed he would want to see you after all these weeks.

‘I assume so,’ the woman brushing your hair said. You nodded curtly, as much as possible, when someone held on to your head. The prospect of speaking to your father face to face brought a new energy into your step. 

You walked out of that room determined and with your head held high, only to be disturbed by footsteps parallel to yours. Two pairs. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, and they just happened to be walking there, too, but they followed you down the hallway, around all the corners. By the time you reached the dining room doors, you had grown tired of it.

‘I am quite capable of walking on my own, thank you,’ you said, coming to an abrupt stop, making the two men behind you  ‘have done it all my life, in fact.’

‘Yes, of course, miss,’ said one of the guards who you bumped into at your sudden halt. ‘It is just—’

‘Just what?’ You crossed your arms.

‘Well, your father—’ he stopped speaking at the sight of your unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. ‘We are here to protect you.’

‘From what exactly?’ This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

‘From any danger, miss.’

‘I was not aware this house was so full of threats.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘I appreciate the efforts, gentlemen, but I doubt you will be needed.’

‘But your father, miss.’ The other man tried to argue, but you were not having any of it.

‘I will not be patrolled in my own home!’ You shouted, pushing the doors to the dining room open. Your father sat at the opposite end of the large table, fork mid-air to his mouth. ‘Father, this is absurd.’

‘I think it is perfectly reasonable to want to protect my daughter. What is absurd,’ much to your annoyance, he spoke in his usual collected and cool-toned manner. He waited to continue speaking until you sat at the table. ‘Is you being held hostage for weeks at the hands of some barbarians.’

‘They are not barbarians, Father,’ you ignored the hands that spooned food onto your plate. ‘They took rather good care of me, actually.’ You bit your cheek, trying not to think of the days you spent in a cage. But even considering that, you were aware of your fortune with the circumstances you had been put under. Many more people had encountered enemies at sea, and few had been able to return home and live to tell the tale… or the preferred version of events, at least. 

‘Is that why you look so sick and frail?’ he spoke bluntly, taking you back. ‘Because of how well they treated you?’

‘They did their best with what they had,’ you believed. It was your choice to starve yourself for the first days on board, refusing to eat anything they gave you. And you could hardly expect a feast such as you held in front of you now, every day in the middle of the deep waters. Even on board the Red Tail, the meals had been somewhat shoddy. ‘I just do not think that…’ you stopped yourself from using his name. ‘That man deserves to be in prison.’

‘Of course not.’ Your father took a bite. ‘He will be hanged for his crimes.’

‘W-what?’ Your fork clattered onto the ground. ‘Father, you cannot— I know he had tried to take money from you but—’ Murder and high treason. That is what he was arrested for. Had your father somehow found out about the Red Tail? But how could he… there were no survivors. 

No survivors. He killed them all. He had— 

‘Do you know who that man is?’ Something in your father’s voice sounded sharper, more pointed. 

‘I thought so,’ you hesitated. Yes, you had spent your days and most tender moments with him, but what did you know about Eddie Munson?

‘Then you should understand the severity of this situation.’ Only if you were to believe hearsay and talk of the people on the streets that shaped this image of a blood-thirsty monster that roamed the seven seas, killing everything in his path. It is what you believed him to be yourself until not very long ago until practically every fibre in your body had been proven wrong.

Or at least, God, you hoped you had been wrong.

Your father sighed, ‘I know it is difficult, after all you must have spent a lot of time with them on that ship, and I do not know what lies they had fed you, but these are serious matters that begun long before any of this and need to finally be taken care of.’

‘Well, explain it to me because I would like to know what is happening.’ 

At this, he scoffed. ‘All you need to know is that man is a dangerous criminal and should be treated as such.’ But then, what about everything Eddie had told you? What about all the pieces you had managed to gather of the crumbs he and everyone else left you? There was more to it all, and maybe you did not understand yet, but you would.

‘When?’ you plucked at your food on the plate, defeated, ‘when is the hanging?’

‘In four days.’ If you had been well enough to eat, you would have choked. You had barely come to terms with returning home, if at all, and now this. Prisoners were usually held for weeks before a date was set for an execution. They were clearly adamant about taking care of him quickly. 

For the sake of everyone else, you ate a bit of your breakfast, each bite sticking uncomfortably heavy in your throat.  After that, you got up without saying another word. The two guards who had walked in with you were on high alert again, ready to follow you, but stopped to look nervously at the governor when you glared at them. 

‘Let her go,’ he waved them off, ‘but keep an eye on her.’

You huffed out a breath and walked away. 

The rest of the day you spent walking around the town, mainly the alley of the market that led to one of the entrances to the dungeons. You had no idea why you were there, considering there was nothing you could do. Besides the fact you could clearly see the new set of guards appointed to follow you around the streets, they seemed utterly futile, considering all eyes in the street were on you. Every person there was highly aware of your presence. 

You used to walk around the market nearly daily, making polite chats with the salesmen as you bought fresh fruit to later eat at the shore or in the garden. Most people knew that you had decided to join the Red Tail on their voyage primarily because of your enthusiasm to finally leave the island and go on an adventure.

It must have taken quite some time, they would say in some form or another, to convince your father.

I can be quite persuasive when I have to be; you remember how proud you had felt. After months of begging everyone around you to let you go, promising them that you would be safe and careful and not get in the way of anyone, finally, they let you go. Under Admiral Carver’s watch, you spent weeks enjoying the breeze and the waves, awaiting what the rest of the world would bring.

The ship sailed for four weeks to another naval post. You did not know their exact business, nor did you care, as you now had a whole new land to explore. The city was larger and nothing like home. The people looked different and spoke an entirely different language, but you still managed to get around and on the market behind your house. It had been excellent and eye-opening, only making you more eager to see what else to discover. But unfortunately, there was only so little time, and before you knew it, you had to return home. You remember the last day. It had been raining, but it did not stop anyone from loading the new supplies. Somehow it seemed like much more needed to be brought on board for this half of the journey than the first. 

What’s in those barrels, you asked, but no one ever replied. They barely ever did. It wasn’t your place to ask questions in these matters. You were simply a passenger on the ship, verging on stowaway, spending your days in the quiet of your own room for the most part until…

It was the middle of the day, and the sun burned above you brightly, yet you shivered. You had always known to trust your father’s judgement and his decisions, but there was no possible way in which this was right. That this was how it would end.

The alleyway practically screamed at you for you to go and run in and get him out of there, but with so many people watching, it would be hopeless. The guards would get you before you had even reached the stairs. You would have to wait.

‘It’s good to see you again, miss.’ A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It took you a few slow blinks to realise who it was.

‘Oh, you too, Mr Bowman.’ you smiled towards the merchant as he smiled at you through his bushy beard. He was sitting next to his table of… you were not sure what to call them. The man was quite the eccentric, and you had barely ever seen him actually make a sale on any of his products, but you doubted he was there for business anyway. ‘Have I missed much in the past months?’ You could always count on him for good stories about the townsfolk. The man had all his senses on sharp, constantly vigilant of everything around him. 

‘I think your return is the biggest news we’ve had in a while.’ He scratched his beard, ‘That, and well, the upcoming execution, of course.’

‘People already know?’ You blinked, not having expected that to be public knowledge yet. Then again, it is an event like no other. Preparations have to be made.

‘Edward the Banished gets arrested, and you expect people not to know?’ He laughed almost mockingly as he usually did, but you looked at him blankly.

‘The Banished?’ you had heard much about Eddie, but this name was new to your ears. 

‘Yes, ridiculous name, if you ask me,’ he waved it off, ‘Pure sensationalism as it rolls smoother on the tongue than deserter or runagate, quisling, traitor—’

‘I understand,’ you stopped him nervously. ‘But how did he get this name? What did he do?’

‘HA!’ he startled you with volume. ‘What didn’t he do, you should ask.’ This caused many of the other merchants around you to weigh in on the subject. 

‘I heard he abducted the governor’s daughter.’

‘That’s her. She’s right here.’

‘Oh. Well, he had attempted to assassinate the king of England!’

‘The Prince, you blockhead. And he did kill him!’

‘He has burned entire islands down. All over a game of cards.’

‘Stole an entire fleet and handed it over to the Spanish, just like that.’

‘He drinks the blood of his enemies!’

‘Sold his soul to the devil!’

Everyone looked at the old man that shouted this out. You were afraid to ask more questions, so let the others do this for you. ‘What do you mean, he sold his soul?’ 

‘He did! Did all those things to offer himself to Satan and do his dirty deeds here on earth. He is cursed to sail the seas in his wicked ship with the unrighteous crew for all eternity.’

‘Well, that eternity won’t last much longer.’ Someone commented, resulting in a chuckle around the street. Most of the people laughed, but you stayed quiet, your mind going back to Eddie, his body covered in unexplainable scars. The wind suddenly grew stronger.

‘I’m telling you,’ the man continued, ‘we won’t get rid of him yet! Not until Hell freezes over!’

‘Someone give the man a hat; he’s had too much sun,’ Mr Bowman called, rich coming from him, whose balding head was burning bright red. He then turned to you, shrugging as the rest had clearly proven his point. ‘And that is why I do not mess around with pirates, deary, no matter how charming they may seem.’

‘Excuse me?’ were the first words coming out of your mouth in the last few minutes, and you quickly regretted having them form into another question. 

‘I saw you two yesterday at the arrest.’ Of course, he had. Nothing around here ever escaped this man. He looked proud of himself for having witnessed the events. ‘It was quite dramatic, seeing lovers have to be broken apart like that.’

‘I think you might have had too much sun today,’ you tried to sound casual as you laughed it off. 

‘I am not here to judge,’ he said, putting his hands up in surrender, ‘simply to advise.’ 

‘Thank you, Mr Bowman.’ You smiled politely, ready to escape the conversation. You had been used to him often throwing around false and farfetched accusations, and even listening to this conversation, you knew it was nothing if not complete nonsense, just gossip gone too far along the years. So now that he had actually been correct, it stunned you, even maybe scared you. What would the people around you think if they knew what happened between you and Eddie? How would they react if they knew how you felt about his death sentence? You would be deemed mad. 

Of course, the not-so-inconspicuous guards followed you back to your room, where you stayed for the rest of the day until it was time for dinner. Your father did not join you this time. As hunger finally struck you, fighting nausea caused by the stress of the last few days, you ate everything served to you. 

On the ship, you had thought that once you came back, you wouldn't be able to stop eating all the things you had been missing for months, but nothing tasted as good as you remembered. In fact, nothing was as good as you remembered. The food was bland, the flowers not as vibrant, and the people not as joyous. Once, you had heard laughter and chatter, but it seemed like the streets grew cold and silent, leaving you alone to your thoughts. 

After your meal, you walked out of the room but turned left instead of taking the right towards your room. People immediately caught on. 

‘Miss? Where are you going?’ A guard called out.

‘Oh,’ you attempted to sound like you had not expected this exact conversation when you moved, ‘just thought of going on a stroll. The night air does me rather well.’ You grinned in a way you hoped would come off naive. 

‘I do not think that’s a good idea.’ The guard said. ‘I would suggest that you return to your room,’ he spoke in a tone telling you that it was not a suggestion at all. Not in the slightest.

‘Am I on house arrest?’

‘See it more as a curfew.’ 

You scoffed at the idea, or more that you had very little choice but to obey. There was a moment in which you stared up at the guard, switching between expressions to get him to crack and let you go, but to your disappointment, he cocked his head toward your room. 

How were you ever supposed to get to Eddie if they constantly watched you? The question kept you up another whole night and the next day. Just for the sake of it, since they so desperately needed to be with you at all times, you decided to sit in the library for about four hours with no book in sight, just staring out the window, letting them stare at you. At a certain point, you had caught one man actually yawning.

‘I am absolutely certain that there are at least fifty things that would be more  productive for you to do then this,’ you broke the deafening, maddening silence, still looking out the window. You had counted all the leaves on the tree branch that kept hitting the pane in the breeze and had recollected every corridor and door in the house. In the reflection of the glass, you could see the guards glance nervously at each other, and with a smile, you turned to face them. ‘You can just go. I won’t tell anyone.’ But they stood their ground. With a groan, you sank back down into the chair. 

It would take much longer for them to break, so much more time that you—that  Eddie—did not possess. Three days left before the execution. Three days left for you to take the chance and do something. Save him. There were a million ideas, one worse after the other, with so many risks and problems that it could eventually end in your own hanging. 

You shut your door at the end of the day, and it must have sounded through the entire house. Another day gone, and you had gotten nowhere. You could see the shadows of their feet come through the gap underneath your door, and they would be there the next morning when you awoke. Sleep deprived from tossing and turning as long as the sun was down. The bed still felt too big for comfort. At one point, they had run into the room at the sound of muffled screams, just for you to pull your head out of your pillow to yell at them to get out. 

You walked towards the dining room for breakfast, this time wearing a rose gold dress, surprised not to be followed by a parade of footsteps but halted at the sound of voices coming from inside the hall. 

‘I think it is safe to say that she does not require any supervision, sir.’ one of the guards said. You never bothered to learn their names, too frustrated to care, but you learned to recognise their voices from the amount of squabbling you had done. 

‘Is that so?’ your father munched away. 

‘She does nothing but mope around all day, quite harmless, I’d say… uhh, sir.’ The other added. 

Mope? You did not mope, if only because they sucked your life out with their constant “supervision”. As much as you wanted to burst into the room, you composed yourself and listened on. 

‘Does she seem well, in the head, I mean?’ Your father asked, but they did not reply. Not verbally, at least; you could imagine them looking at each other in the way they did, and just the idea made you clench your fists until they turned pale.

‘She’s stubborn, a bit immature, a bit aggressive.’ One of them chose his words carefully and slowly.

‘So that’s a no, I take it,’ your father concluded. You took this as your opportunity to announce yourself with a few loud steps, moving back a few paces to repeat them with exaggeration. 

‘Good evening, father,’ you said as you took your seat, not giving him or the other man any more of your attention. The guards glanced at you nervously before leaving the room.

‘Terrorised the guards, I see?’ he asked.

‘No more than they did me,’ you replied in the same emotionless tone as you ate.

‘I just wanted what’s best for you. It had been a tumultuous time, and you had gone through quite– ’

‘Is that a reason to… to lock me up and have me followed around like some kind of—’ You were at a loss for words, so instead, opted for a frustrated groan and stuffing your face with a forkful of lamb. 

‘Well, you’ve proved me wrong. Clearly, you can still care for yourself.’ he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. ‘I’ll make them let you be from now on,’ and with that, he walked away. You couldn’t suppress the smile that rose to your lips once the doors closed behind him, immediately knowing the first place you were heading to with your newfound “freedom”. 

The kitchen. 

Well, that is not exactly the first thing. You had to wait for all the dishes to be cleared from the dining room, so you wandered around the corridors and then headed down the stairs as quietly as possible to not raise any attention to yourself. 

As suspected, the kitchen was empty. Most of the food on the plates still untouched. Quietly, you grabbed a basket and began picking things out here and there, those that would go unnoticed by anyone walking in to grab a midnight snack. The only thing that might have caught someone’s attention by going missing was one of the larger bottles of rum stacked on a shelf. 

You placed a napkin over the basket's content and grabbed one of the staff member’s hoods to cover yourself up with before heading outside. It would help against the cold night air and hopefully make you a bit less noticeable, as the grey hood did not stand out as much as your extravagant dress. As you took the first steps out into the garden, the idea came to you that maybe that was another idea of them trying to keep you inside these walls. After all, while you had always had nice clothing, it did not compare to the dresses you’ve worn since your return. It could be seen as a welcome home gift, but it was undeniable that the dress you wore now could be spotted from miles away.

You pulled the cloak tighter over yourself.

Besides a few men who were too drunk to notice or care who you were, the streets were also empty. The men standing at the prison doors were half asleep, and either way, you were not too anxious about them as they were usually more preoccupied with keeping people in than out. You slipped through the shadows into the alley and only dared to breathe once inside. The steps leading further into the building were uneven, especially in the dark. The only light was half-burned-up torches lining the path. A crinkly small corridor that eventually led to a crooked staircase. You could barely keep yourself up straight, almost tripping over your feet. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, where the dungeon's entrance stood, took almost longer than the walk to the building across town as you held onto the cold wall, doing your best not to fall.

Now, you could only pray that the final door was not locked. The handle wiggled and creaked open. 

You hesitated. What would await you inside? This whole trek had been based on your intuition that he would be put in one of the isolated cells, away from the petty criminals. But what if they kept him somewhere else? What if they had done something to him and… well, there was only one way to find out.

As you stepped into the caved-out room and almost instantaneously, never before had you felt such a cold fall over you. Maybe it was due to the thick walls absorbing all sound or how the slit-like windows below the ceiling only let through the tiniest slivers of moonlight, obstructing any of the day’s heat from entering the room. Or maybe it was the sight of him in the pale torchlight that chilled you to the bone. 

He was seated on the ground, framed by a cell jagged from rock and steel bars. The moonlight managed to just about frame his face, exhausted and fragile. His eyes were closed in pretend sleep. You could tell that much as his brows furrowed at the sound of your footsteps. You tried to call out to him, but your throat was stuck. But you didn’t need to say anything. He called your name in a weak voice, in a hesitant manner, as if he was making sure that what he saw was real. If you were really there. 

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in disbelief.

What were you doing here?  You had been asking yourself this the entire walk up to the cells, trying to find a reason why it meant so much to you to see him again, to help him, and yet you still could not come up with anything. There was no response besides holding up the basket with a weak smile and saying, ‘I thought you would like some dinner.’ 

Eddie sat straight, pulling himself up by one of the cell bars. As you walked up to his cell and sat down on the ground beside him, you could feel his eyes on you. Pure disbelief at your presence, the food. You held the meat out to him, but he did not move. 

‘It is not poisoned,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘if that is what you’re wondering.’ Even when you handed him the food to eat. He did so slowly, apprehensively at first, still unable to look away from you. Perfectly understandable. You had barely gotten used to this. How the beading and frame of the dress poked at you from every angle. Your feet hurt, and your hair had been pulled into an intricate hairstyle, causing you to walk around with a headache for hours. Not that it was anything to compare to Eddie’s circumstances. He sat in his cell, too small to stretch his body out in, with no bed, just the cold hard ground. They had removed his jacket and belt, leaving him to sit out the cold of the night in just his shirt. You also noticed a new bruise forming on his jaw, which certainly had not been there when you last saw him. All this to break him down, yet the way he looked at you—you could have sworn you were still lying together in his bed, far away from all this. 

He glanced down at your dress, how it pooled around you, almost leaking through the cell barriers up to him in all its opulence. ‘How the tables have turners, haven’t they, princess,’ he chuckled, and you had never thought to be so happy from hearing such a simple sound. The nickname felt deliberately chosen at this time, too. You pulled at the edges of your dress, collecting it closer to you.

‘I know, I look ridiculous.’ 

‘I think the word you’re looking for is beautiful,’ he said between bites, but you ignored the compliment, knowing that if you let it get to you, it would come together with a shower of tears. As he kept on eating his food, you sighed, letting your side hit the wall as you leaned up to him. You handed him more of the food that you had brought him and the rum, then let him finish in silence. His mere presence beside you already was more than enough. The sound of his deep calm breaths was enough to put you to rest, and it pleased you that the sea had not left him just yet. He still smelled of it. That fresh sea salt air was simply stuck in his hair. You refrained from combing your fingers through it.

This was already so far from what you had expected things to go like. You had thought that once you came home, even with his request for a hefty payment, he would still be welcomed as a hero. That you could make things work and somehow, maybe, naively, be together. Even now, you thought that if he saw you here, you would have some kind of moment of clarity where everything became crystal clear and easy to understand. That you would know exactly what to do, and it would be glorious. You thought he would be happy to see you. Never had you imagined him asking you again, ‘What are you doing here? Really.’

‘I wanted to see you,’ you said, but he could read past all your layers. ‘And… over the past few days, I have heard things. About you. Things that I can hardly believe to be true and yet are seen as such by the majority of people, so I hoped you could clear some things up for me.’

‘You don’t believe your own people but would believe me?’ He took a swig of the rum, already handing it back to you, but you declined, giving it back.

‘I have given you my trust more times than I should have, and so far, it has not led me down any dark paths, but I can only hope that you will not break that bond now.’ After all that you had been through? Was he in any position to do so? ‘So I hope you will tell me what really happened. I—I remember you, years ago, meeting with my father and Carver. You were in the military, right?’

Eddie let his head roll back, hitting the wall behind him with a shallow thud. ‘You remember me?’ 

‘It came to me during the storm. A memory of you walking with them in the garden. For the longest time, I could not make sense if it had been real or if my mind playing tricks on me, but I realised now what it was.  You looked different, but it was you, wasn’t it? You were like them?’ 

‘Turns out, maybe I still am, and more than you’d think,’  he sighed, ‘or less, depending on how you look at it.’ He took another sip of the drink. 

‘Will you tell me, please?’ You pleaded, eagerly awaiting the answers to what you had been trying to figure out long before you had returned home. Eddie looked apprehensive. 

‘What good will it do?’ He turned his head in your direction, still leaning against the wall. You moved over to be closer to him, your legs almost touching. 

‘Perhaps nothing, but—’ you sighed, ‘All my life, I’ve been protected. I’ve had everything handed to me without any trouble. I had spend most of my years never further away than these shores and always under someone’s watch. I had never had the space to make risks or mistakes. There was no such thing as danger. Even now, I had been under constant watch. No one will answer my questions or even listen to me because they want to protect me. Because they think I’m fragile and cannot handle it.’ 

At this, Eddie scoffed. ‘If anything, they cannot handle you, darling.’ 

‘Meanwhile, you,’ you smiled, ignoring the heat burning over your cheeks, ‘Well, perhaps not all your methods were ideal, but you never treated me like I was made of glass. You pushed me, and it actually, for once, made me feel alive and like I am worth being in the room with.’

Eddie reached for your hand. ‘You’re worth so much more than that,’ he mumbled against your knuckled as he kissed them. He held on to you as he began talking slowly, choosing his words wisely. ‘I had joined the navy younger than anyone should have—my parents couldn’t afford me, so I had to make myself useful quickly, and that felt at least somewhat commendable, no matter how it would end. 

‘Started right at the bottom, but I wanted to prove myself. I followed orders, did everything what was asked of me, and more, and I moved through the ranks. As I gained more of a position, I got more of an insight into the men I was working for and with.’ 

As he spoke, you watched his eyes pale, haze over with memories. The dam he had built around them had broken up, flooding out, and he could not stop it anymore.  He wanted to continue, but he hesitated, glancing your way, but you encouraged him to go on with a nod of the head. Even then, he scratched at his face nervously and took a deep breath. 

‘We would find ourselves everywhere around the world, and a certain power comes with wearing a uniform. It is universal, one that everyone understands and is willing to abuse. It was easy to see yourself as better than the poor locals, to excuse yourself from the import taxes and all the bureaucracy around the travel. I had done it myself, flashing a grin with the mindset of superiority.’ He hid his face in his hands, groaning. You reached out for his arm. 

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ you hushed, but was it really?

‘When you get that taste of power when it hits right, it is hard to let go. It had never sat well with me; every time I got away from a port without paying for my ship, I stayed up entire nights as the guilt ate away from me, but it had been what everyone else was doing, and you don’t want to fall behind. It had become a pressure to boast your power over those who did not have any. 

‘And this power…. it turned darker as simple actions of business turned to abuse. Swindling merchants of their products, conning drunks with games, and stealing their money. Taking advantage of… everyone. It had become a sport to them.

‘I was aware of it, but it had somehow never seemed that serious—it happened so gradually—until one day I saw one of the commanders with this girl…’ his breath hitched. You squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there, that you were listening. ‘She was just a child, and when I saw what he—I lost control of myself, lashed out at him. It had been stupid trying to argue with someone that outranked me. There was no one I could tell that would do anything about it, not when they were all just as bad.

‘Then Carver came up to me one day. Said that together we could make a change.’ Eddie’s jaw clenched. ‘I should have known better. He had always been too close with the rest of them, but we planned on making a change.

‘But on the day we were about to tell your father about everything that happened on our voyages—the day we saw each other in the garden, in fact,’ he squeezed your hand back. ‘We never got the chance because I was sent away.’ Something in you caught your breath, making him smile lightly. 

‘There had been talk of a war, and so I was sent out with a fleet to take charge. Carver had promised me he would take care of everything in my absence, but—’

‘He didn’t,’ you finished the sentence for him.

‘In a way, he did. Of course, it was all a hoax. He had needed an excuse to get rid of me. It took me three months to get back, having found no signs of possible ambushes, and when I did, I returned to the news that Hargrove, the commander I had attacked, had been found dead that same evening I left. And there was the missing gold and the rumours of a coup, among other things. Somehow, he had convinced everyone I had gone above and beyond in betraying our country, but the murder charges hit the heaviest. They thought I had killed one of our own.

‘The only people on my side had been those on the ship with me, and they had given up all they had by giving me their trust. They were marked as traitors just for standing up against the accusations. I  already had lost everything I had to lose and could not stand by it, so I left. I took my ship and my crew, and we sailed off. 

Bowman’s words rang through your mind as Eddie said this. Deserter. Runagate. Quisling. Traitor. You still wanted to ask him so much, but you let him speak before interrupting. 

‘The sea was a liberation. We were free to do whatever we wanted, so we did, but I always felt like I was tied back to this place. Like…’ he laughed, ‘like a rope was hanging around my neck, dragging me back here. At first, I thought it was guilt, so I did my best to reprimand everything they had done. I wanted to do something for all those men and women we had hurt, give them some form of protection against those uniforms. 

‘But no matter what I did, who I helped, that feeling did not stop. In a way, it grew worse. I got angry and felt like the only thing that would help me was revenge; I stayed up most nights thinking of unimaginable things. I got lost in the darkness of it. If it wasn’t for Harrington, I don’t know what would have become of me.’

‘Harrington?’ You could see how that would happen, but the mention of him somehow startled you. It's another piece of the story that made it feel so real.

‘He had been in a similar position as me. His commanding officer had been asking him to do all these dirty jobs until he had had enough. It had only been a couple of days since he had given up his post when we met one night at a tavern. He wouldn't have joined us if it had not been for a game of cards. Neither would have Robin.’

You had no idea how long you had sat there, just enough for your body to grow cold and stiff on the ground, but you could not care less about any of that, too focused on his story. As he mentioned Steve and Robin, his smile reached his eyes for the first time since you had arrived, revitalising you, knowing that there was still something in his life that left fond memories behind. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you listened on. 

‘Either way, I had fallen into a deep, dark pit, and Steve pulled me out. He showed me what I was doing did no good for anyone but them. It was eating me alive, killing me from the inside.’

‘But you still killed them all.’ The words left your mouth sooner than you could think them through. Knowing his reason behind it all made you understand, but it did not lessen the impact of the deed. 

Hearing you say that, Eddie quickly turned his entire body to you, pulling himself as close to you as possible, almost pushing himself through the bars. His eyes were full of an intensity that burned through your soul.

‘I am not trying to make excuses. I did what I did—I led my crew towards the Red Tail and let them sink that ship, but not for myself. That is what Harrington made me realise. I did not need to see them die, but they needed to pay for everything they had done. For ruining all those people’s lives. You must understand that?’ 

He didn’t need to see them die. Moments flashed before you of your very first seconds on the Hellfire. Of Eddie walking up to you, the words he spoke in front of you. 

– Carver? Where is that pesky little bilge rat? 

– Bled out on the ship. 

– Shame. Would have like to have seen that. ‘You weren’t even there.’ you whispered.

‘It wasn’t about me.’ He shook his head. ‘Besides, if I had been the one to kill them, it would have only satisfied them. To see me become what they had told the world I already was. All I wanted was for them to be gone. Just gone. 

‘None of this,’ his eyes darted over your face. ‘Was meant to happen to you. My men were simply looking for the things in the office that had already been stolen. But then they saw you under that table, they couldn’t leave you. You were innocent.’ His hand reached out to brush over your cheek. Only at his touch did you realise that you had started to cry as he wiped down your tears. ‘And to you, I am truly sorry for everything I put you through.’ 

 You had nothing to reply with but a kiss, pulling him close to you. The steel bars of the cell caused an awkward distance between you, yet you never felt closer. It was as if now, you finally, truly, knew who it was you were touching. The kiss had been brief, but the silence that followed stretched on. The two of you sat there, sinking away from reality, but the questions you still had kept you grounded. Just as Eddie had said, a noose dragging you back. 

‘Eddie,’ you called him carefully. ‘What about the letter?’ 

‘What letter, princess.’ His hand kept rubbing over your tear-stained cheek. 

‘You know which one I mean,’ you pulled back slightly to be able to look properly at him. ‘Who was it for?’ 

He laughed, the saddest laugh you had ever heard come from him, and it pained you from within. ‘What does all this matter? I will be dead soon. The less there is left of me here, the better.’

 You watched him pull himself up again to sit, tap his knuckles on his knee. His answer had angered you. ‘Because…’ you took a deep breath, taking the leap you had been too afraid to take. ‘it just gives me that much less time to know the man I have fallen in love with.’ You wanted to keep as much of him as possible. That is what you could do by listening. To give him that voice in his own story. 

Eddie fell silent. His mouth opened to speak, but no voice came out for several tries. He searched for the right words until he finally blinked slowly and looked up at the ceiling. His jaw clenched once again, in the way that he sucked in a deep breath. As he released it, he said: ‘Her name was Christina.’

‘Your wife?’ Again, you thought of what he had told you earlier. I  already had lost everything I had to lose. He must have had people who cared for him before all this had happened.

‘Fiancée,’ he corrected, not that it mattered to either of you. ‘We had known each other our whole lives, having grown up on the same streets. We kept each other strong with this promise that one-day things would get better. That we would escape from all the burdens and create our own paradise. She was the reason I—’ he couldn’t speak of it out loud, and you didn’t need him to. You didn’t tell him to continue the story when he eventually did. 

‘Foolishly, I had not told her anything of what went on. I told her things would finally be good for us when I returned. We would leave and never turn back. I thought I was protecting her by keeping it all from her, but it was the final nail in my coffin.

 ‘She had been the first person I saw after my return, and I could sense that something was wrong.  Then the guards knocked on the door, and she opened it like she had been expecting them. 

‘I could only assume it was Carver. That he told her what he told everyone else. She wouldn’t look at me, touch me, speak to me. No matter how hard I tried to prove myself, he had poisoned her with his words. In the end, she only saw me as a monster.’ 

The last word stung you in your chest, knowing how often you had used that exact word to describe him yourself. How often have you called him a monster or even worse?  But his openness triggered more memories to come up. Your conversations with the crew of the Red Tail. Their stories and lives. 

‘Christina…’ you mumbled the name with familiarity. ‘That was… that was the name of the admiral’s wife.’

‘It does not come to me as a surprise,’ he chuckled that sad laugh again. He had clearly expected to hear those words eventually. You looked at him, feeling the sting in the corners of your eyes. The tears were coming right back, but he quickly wiped those too. ‘Please, don’t. I do not need your pity. I have told you everything there is to know about me, and that is all I could or ever will ask of you again.’

‘I don’t—’ you wanted to speak, but he quickly went on. As he held your face in his hands, his thumb brushed over your lips, 

‘And I will cherish these moments, every second I spent with you, until my last breath. I will think of you as the sun sets, I promise you.’

‘What—what are you talking about?’ your voice choked between sobs. 

‘I never expected you to come here,’ he kissed you, passing all the feelings he had voiced earlier over to you with the touch of his lips, ‘but don’t come here again.’

‘What? No!’ You pushed yourself away. This wasn’t the plan. You were going to help him. You were going to get him out of here. As you got up to your feet, so did he, reaching for your hand again.

‘Listen to me.’ he gritted his teeth in desperation. ‘There is no way out of here, and it will only get worse for me.’ As he said so, your eyes flashed back to the bruise on his pale skin. ‘I do not want you to see me like that. Let this be where we say our goodbyes.’ He held your hand, finger over your knuckles, soothingly. You hated that he was comforting you at this moment.

‘No,’ you whimpered, head shaking. You turned your hand around in his to grab onto his fingers. One of his skull rings slowly began to slide off, and so you stopped before it dropped.

‘Please,’ he squeezed your hand.

‘No!’ you shouted, not caring if the guards outside could hear you. They might storm inside any second now and drag you out, they could try, but you wouldn’t let them. ‘I won’t let you die.’

‘It’s okay.’ He said. With every sentence he spoke, a new piece of the puzzle had been allotted to its place, but the final picture still blurred before your mind. It only seemed like even more gaps needed to be filled in, but it was slowly coming together, and when it did… You wanted to cry out. 

Eddie held you as best as he could through his restraints, the faintest smile painted over his lips. 

‘You knew, didn’t you?’ you stood there, defeated. ‘That if you would come back here with me, that this would happen. You knew you would be arrested and hanged.’

‘At least now I truly deserve it.’ All the crimes he committed at sea trying to help others, what he had let happen to the Red Tail. ‘So, please, just go. I promise, it will be alright.’ 

You wanted to scream at him. Hit him, punch him, and much more for all of this. You wanted him to hurt as much as you did as he told you to leave, but in reality, you doubted anything you could do to him would match even half of the pain you felt as you stood there. You wanted him to hurt, but all you could do was take one last step forward and pull him in to kiss you. 

When you left, you could still feel him on your lips. That feeling let you move step by step out onto the street. Everything else felt not quite right, not quite real. You walked mindlessly across the empty market, barely aware of your surroundings, until you suddenly stood in front of your room door. You dropped the empty basket at your side and practically floated onto the bed.

It was late; you had no idea what time exactly, but too late for anyone to help you get out of that corset. You lay on the bed, now unable to get up, unwilling to move even if you could, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe you never stopped staring or fell into a slumber, but the next morning you still lay on your back, barely changing position over the early morning hours.

 You sat in your room, looking at the tide coming and going, pushing the sand and the rocks through the hours. The hours blurred; days became night, and the moon turned into the sun. The following two days passed, and you spend them in silent disbelief and confusion, just fighting to not return to the prison cell.

There must be something you could do. People you could convince or pay or bribe in any other way to not let the execution take place. Help him escape. 

This could not be the end.

But Eddie had made his final wish clear. You were not to see him again, and what could you do when no one would listen to you? When everyone on the island had his mind set on what Eddie was? You were paralysed with helplessness, and no matter what you tried to do or what to think about, it just would not go away. It grew inside you, impossible to ever leave you again, and you were slowly making peace with that. Your own price to pay for not being able to do anything for him when he truly needed it.

Even when you arrived at the square, which was filling up with an audience hours before the event, were you trying to look for escape routes, but the more people arrived, the more challenging a wall they created to penetrate. You would never be able to run through it, but you thought of it. Holding his hand, never looking back.

The sun that afternoon was flaming hot, burning through all the layers of your dress that pinned into your ribs as you sat down. The governing families got the best seats on the raised platform in the house, with plush chairs to wait on while everything was prepared. There was only the cool breeze of your fan to cool you down, but it did nothing on your nerves. They burned within just as much as the sun's rays. 

You had not been sure if coming was a good choice or if you were prepared to witness Eddie’s death, but your absence would surely be questioned and… and you could not pass on the ever last possibility of seeing him. The dubiety ran through you with a threat of tears.

But more and more people came around to see, and you traced each face to find someone who could help you. Someone on your side. A familiar ally, but no luck. They were all prepared to see a man die tonight. The mumbling amongst them turned into chatter, and the conversations of local gossip turned to absolute mudslinging.

���I heard he has killed over a thousand men with his bare hands.’

‘Well, I heard he had planned on taking over the army in order to become the next king!’

‘And I heard—’

‘I heard—’

I heard… One thing after the other, each one worse than the last. Could they not see this? All of it nothing but hearsay. They were putting a man on death row for things overheard at the market. Of course, no one would listen if you were to say this. 

The sky slowly turned a warm orange, glowing on the buildings like a soft fire. The bell in the church tower struck seven times, half through instinct and half through custom, people’s heads turned in one direction. All but yours because as they all looked at the procession—the court man carrying a large scroll of parchment, followed by the executioner, who pulled the chains that were locked around Eddie’s wrists and the two guardsmen behind him, weapons at the ready—you stared ahead at the gallows. The rope hanging on it looked short and could only mean one thing. 

A slow and painful death.

The clanking of the shackles echoed through the entire square with each step Eddie took. He was barely visible through the crowd, but the length of the executioner in front of him ensured everyone could follow the death march.

Eddie looked ill—pale and fragile. His steps were shaking, not improved at all by the heavy chains that pulled him forward. He stumbled around up the stairs to the gallow. You could see his eyes look up in fearful amazement at the construction of the gibbet. His Adam’s apple choked up and down, and then his eyes caught sight of you. 

Everything began to move at a slowed-down pace. 

He must not have expected you to come or hoped you wouldn’t because the brave and confident facade cracked for the tiniest moment. The sadness dominated his features for a glimpse of time, but it was all you could see. Too occupied by his view, he had missed his call to step up. The hangman shouted something from underneath his black hood, kicking Eddie forward. You flinched as Eddie kept his balance not to fall to the floor. You couldn’t do this. You could not watch this go down, but you did not want to leave him behind. Not ever. This could not be the end.

The court man stepped forward, unscrolling his parchment as he cleared his throat. It was enough for the people below, standing on the pavement, in the shadows of the buildings, on the balconies, to quiet down and listen as he read: 

‘On this day,’ his voice carried through the entire square, ‘we bear witness to the punishment of Edward Munson, pirate, for his admitted crimes of theft, perjury, extortion, abduction, desertion, high treason and murder, sentencing him to death as decided by the governing council. 

‘He shall hang here for God to give his final judgement and remain a reminder for any wrong-doers and sinners to come!’

You glanced at your father, who sat by untouched. Was Eddie’s body here to stay forever? You could not imagine having to walk around this town every day just to see his body be taken by the elements. 

The sun was nearly at the horizon, shining bright at all of you, its heat still heating your skin. 

The people cheered as the rope was put around Eddie’s neck, who waved to them as if they were not cheering on his demise. One hand pulling the other up, making the chain between them clink. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips, and it astonished you to see that he managed to stay his entertaining self even now. Always playing a role for the other man. Here to entertain. To provoke. To distract.

But the smile faded, body stiffened as the noose was pulled taut.

‘That’s a bit tight,’ Eddie commented, and in response to that, the hooded man pulled it even tighter. It dug into his skin. He looked down at where the floor would soon disappear from underneath him, then up at the sky and with a slight choke, he spoke out his final words, embellished by the last spark of his life: 

‘To reign is worth ambition though in hell: Better to reign in hell, then serve in heaven.’

People gasped, mumbling amongst each other once more until hushed to silence by the hangman walking up to the lever that would set everything into motion. As Eddie took his final breath, everyone held theirs in anticipation. Your hands were shaking; every breath you took felt like a betrayal to him and like a stab in your lungs. Your fan moved faster, the small gushes of wind barely doing anything to cool down your face. This could not be the end. Not this. Not now. It couldn’t be—

The arm was pulled, and it was as if it had removed the ground from underneath your feet; that’s how deep the drop in your stomach was as you saw Eddie fall. It was as much as you could bear seeing before you turned around, hiding your face in your hands, hiding your tears from everyone else. 

When hanging a person, two types of noose could be used. With the longer drop, the fall's impact would cause the neck to break and bring instant death. The shorter rope prolongs the act of dying as the rope digs into their throat, cutting off their air. During this, the square is filled with the sound of choked gasps, encouraged by the hundreds of onlookers. 

If you had been one of them, down there on the ground, with easy access to the podium, you would have stormed it. Cut the rope loose. But you sat on the balcony, surrounded by your father and the other gentlemen and guards, unable to move anywhere. So you could only hope that there would be someone to do what you wanted to do. That someone would show up and save him like you wish you could. But when no one came, and his strangled groans became more sporadic, you had had enough. You couldn’t do this. You could not sit by and watch or even listen to what was happening before you. 

Your father’s call of your name was muffled by the public, and your own internal screams as you ran out. Arms reached for you, but you pushed past them all. As soon as you were out of everyone’s sight, the tears started to flow, and they would not stop no matter how far you ran. And you wanted to run as far away as possible, as far away as your legs could take you. Off this island, away from these people. Yet, you eventually carried yourself back to the square. Each step made you dizzy through the corridors and down the stairs, but you could not stand still. 

You had thought you were faster, but as soon as you pushed the heavy doors open and saw the stream of people walking away, the truth sank into your bones. You pushed your way past the crowd back to the open marketplace. As soon as it was done, people lost interest and continued with their evenings as if nothing had happened, ready for whatever next was to come eventually. By the time you reached the foot of the gallow, there was practically no one else around you. 

The sun was saying its goodbyes, and his body was a dark shadow across the obscuring sky, hanging limp, still swinging from side to side but with every second coming closer to its final halt. Something about the movements looked so serene that you could not come to terms with that this was really it. Just like that… he was gone, but it happened so quickly, so easily. Too quickly. 

You stood in front of him as the last people left, and the sun disappeared at the end of the world until the real darkness fell upon you, and your tears finally dried out until your throat screamed for water and air, and you could barely stand up straight.

This could not be the end.

And you were one of the first people to hear of it. 

First, there was the prickling of the fire in the reading room, the flipping of the pages as you stared ahead at the words of the book, making yourself seem present in the room as your father sat by. Then there were the rushed footsteps in the hallway. The hushed whispers of hesitance behind the closed door as the men contemplated what to do. A creak of the door as they walked inside towards your father and leaned in to whisper so you would not hear what they had to say.

But the room was so quiet, you heard it quite clearly.

‘Sir, there is an…a problem.’

‘What is the matter?’ Your father, as always, did not find much need to express himself largely, but at the guard's response, his eyes grew wide, and for a moment, the glow of the fire seemed that much cooler.

‘The body…. It’s gone, sir.’

‘What do you mean,’ he composed himself quickly, ‘he is gone? How can that be?’ 

The guards never looked so small. ‘We do not know sir, but he is. It is like he has disappeared into thin air.’

‘Absurd,’ your father got up, and so did you. Before you got to say a word or take a step forward, he quickly stopped you. ‘You stay here.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Was all you replied as you rushed out of the room ahead of anyone else. 

You had already made your peace with never stepping a foot inside the town square ever again, not if you would have to be reminded of that afternoon, of everything that happened in the last months, but as you walked back up to it, you could not have been happier that you had returned. 

Only the rope left was where his body had hung and where it had meant to hang for days to come. Its perfectly knotted noose swayed like he had the last time you saw him. 

Everyone else was right behind you, but just before they reached the platform with you, you noticed something in the corner of your eye. A shine against the moonlight on the wooden beams. You could just barely reach it, but with a stretch of the arm, your fingertips just about managed to get a grip on it. Before you could look at it, you heard your father shout orders at the guards, making them search everywhere in the nearby surroundings. Maybe whoever had taken the body was still somewhere nearby. 

Whoever took it… was that what happened? Before you could look around for more signs that could clarify the situation, you were called to return back home. It would do little good to argue now, so you followed the guard tasked with escorting you to your room. Only when he closed your door and you sat down at your drawing desk that you opened your fist to reveal what it was you had found beneath the rope.

The pair of hollowed-out eyes of the skull ring stared back at you. There was no possible way for you to know what this meant if it even meant something, but you couldn’t help but smile. The ring was loose on your finger, but you kept it on. 

This could not be the end of Captain Eddie Munson. 

It wasn’t. 

For most people, he lived on as a ghost story, and as you had learned from a very young age, dead men tell no tales. The living pass their stories around, mouth to mouth, page to page. Blurring the truth with their urgency for clarity, they try to make sense of things they cannot understand. Secrets become myths and legends that barely resemble the truth. 

In most cases, it takes years, decades, if not centuries, but here, on this small island, the conversations on the street already trickled with gossip and rumours the following morning.

I did not want to believe it, but it must be true, what they say. He did sell his soul to the devil! And it came to retrieve his body. 

I told you! It is useless to try and kill the unkillable! No, did you not hear what he had said? “Better to reign in hell!” But he is the devil incarnate!

Well, I’m surprised they caught him in the first place! Why he must be a ghost. The lot of them on that wicked ship. All cursed, and now he will return to haunt us for the rest of our lives! 

Who was to say out of all of them what happened on that square once darkness fell? No one was there to see it or tell the truth, as all who could had long left the island. 

They left at night, days after everything went down after the search for Eddie’s missing body had been called off, “officially” said to have been stolen but never confirmed. Those who knew what happened to it stayed in hiding until it was safe to come out until all suspicions were blurred with the gossip and basically forgotten. Quietly, they ran to the harbour, unseen by anyone, swift as the wind. 

Unnoticed by anyone…but you.

Like most of the nights, unable to fall asleep, you had been looking out your window out at the harbour and the sea. The ships that calmly stood anchored there and the waves that pushed against them. Slowly, they put you to sleep, and so at first, you thought it was just a blur of your tired gaze, the dark spot in the far distance. It wasn’t a ship. And there, on the shore, there were no people preparing a boat. Not this late… 

You rubbed your eyes, trying to better understand what they were doing. Packing in a hurry, throwing things into the bottom of the rowboat. As you watched, you told yourself that it was just the exhaustion speaking, that you were fooling yourself with this hope, but you could not let the chance pass you by.

You left your room without bothering to put anything on over your nightgown. Quietly to not gain any attention, but still as quickly as you could manage. Who knew how much time you had left before they would leave? Then once out of the house, you ran as fast as you could. The past few days, it felt like it had been all you had been doing, running to and from things, running after something without even knowing what you were looking for, but now you knew. You ran until your lungs began to burn from the warm and dry air. Until your feet were ready to give in and until you reached the sandy beach. 

As much as you wanted to scream and shout, you kept quiet. You walked carefully up to the two figures at the shore until they noticed you next to them. It happened when you were only a few feet away; they heard the scuffle of your feet or your shaky breath and pulled their guns out. They were ready to shoot, but the second they needed to notice you in the dark saved your life. That is when you locked eyes with the man in front of you.

‘Eddie?’ you cried. Before he could say anything, you took the final few steps and closed the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. Just to know it was real. Just to make sure you had not gone completely mad. You pressed yourself against every inch of him that you could. 

With the need for air, you pulled back, and instinctually, your palm met the side of his face. ‘How? I saw you—’ You both breathed heavily, chests raising drastically as he turned back to face you with a smile and press his lips against yours again. Like the last pieces of the puzzle, his hands fit on your body perfectly. 

Then he pulled you apart, with his hands on your face, wiping away the tears that had formed along the way. ‘I know,’ he whispered, but the words were so close you could feel them. You could feel him. Just the feeling of his fingertips on your cheeks assured you that this was real and that it was really him. ‘And I’m so sorry.’

‘But why?’ You were trembling in his arms. 

‘I had realised very early on that the only way to truly escape this place was to die,’ he smiled the smile you thought you would never see again, ‘but, well, I was not ready for that just yet.’

‘But I saw you— I watched it all happen there—how did you—’ his being broke you. You could not stop staring at the man in front of you. At all the little knicks and cracks in his skin. The fading bruises, the scars, and the long red gash along his neck that proved everything that much more. 

‘I told you everything would be alright, didn’t I?’ And he never broke his promise. But still, as the truth settled in around you, it opened up a space for a new kind of hurt. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me believe that you were gone?’

‘It was the one thing that actually killed me, believe me,’ he pushed the loose hair out of your face, ‘but I needed you to believe it like anyone else. If you believed it—it would make everything so much easier.’

You wanted to ask him what on earth that was supposed to mean, but that is when you remembered the boat at his side. And when you noticed Steve waiting impatiently behind him, the oar already in his hand.

 ‘You’re leaving.’ It wasn’t a question. Of course, he was. He couldn’t hide here forever. Out there, in the waters, he would be genuinely free. 

‘It’s all for the best, and with me gone for good, you could live on; move on,’ he said somberly. 

‘Do you think I could forget about you that easily?’ Your fist had clamped onto the material of his shirt. ‘Do you really think I think so little of you? That I had not spend every minute of the past days mourning you? Missing you?’ and now you had him… just to lose him again.

‘But it would all pass. You can find someone else, someone better, and be happy.’ He looked down at your hand to see the ring you had kept on your finger for the past few days. He kissed his ring and then looked back up at you. ‘Let me go, darling.’

‘No,’ you shook your head, much like you had in the dungeon, but this time, you were more adamant this time than ever. ‘I won’t let you. Not this time.’ 

He mumbled your name, trying to argue, but you were ready with a rebuttal before he even said anything.

‘I do not want to spend another day without you. Not if I know you are somewhere out there—’ you had been looking at the ring too, but then looked at him again as an idea formed in your brain. ‘Take me with you.’

‘I can’t do that,’ his smile was airy and light but filled with regret. ‘You belong here.’

‘No, I don’t. Remember what I told you when I came to see you?’ You pleaded with him. ‘Do you remember?’ You pushed the words out when he didn’t say anything. 

‘Yes.’ 

‘So, please, don’t leave me. Not again.’ At this point, you punched every word into his chest weakly as you began to cry again, and he let you. Then, when you were finally done, he held you, telling Steve off when he tried to put this to an end, even though he was right. There wasn’t much time left. The sun would come up soon again, and people would awake and see you, and it would all have been for nothing.

‘I wish I could give you the world, darling,’ he said, ‘I call you a princess, but we both know you should be treated as a queen and get anything you ask for, but I can’t do that for you. I am not the man you should be with.’ He kissed the top of your head. ‘Please, forgive me.’ And with that, he let you go. 

You had let him do many things in the past, but not this time.

‘Well, I don’t forgive you.’ He had already turned around to get to the boat, but you just stepped past him, stunning him and poor Steve, as you got in. ‘If you wanted the easy way out, Munson, you should have thought twice about who to kidnap.’ 

The two men looked bewildered momentarily, too stunned to respond, but Steve was the first to respond. ‘She’s right,’ and he followed you in. The boat rocked from side to side. You sighed as you looked at Eddie as he stood in the sand. 

‘I’m not scared, Eddie.’ you reached out your hand to him. ‘I want this.’ You wanted him. You wanted this life with him. You wanted to travel the world and have a life of adventures. You wanted to be free.

Eddie looked at you, still in apparent shock at your sudden assertion. You might have thought you had changed so much, but he still saw the same stubborn woman as that cursed day when you were hauled aboard his ship. On the contrary, he had been the one that changed, and he realised that as he cursed himself there on that beach. He knew he might come to regret this, but he thought he had regretted most of his choices, most of what he had done in the past months, and yet, he could not have been happier with where his life had led him, as it all led him to you. So, he took your hand and pulled himself into the boat.

You dropped the weights that had kept you anchored and made your way out into the sea where the Hellfire lay by patiently, waiting for her Captain and his Princess—despite what their titles actually may be—to return home.

The End.

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

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[jotun-philosopher]

Discworld/Good Omens parallels ramble

Exactly what it says on the tin! These are some fun little Discworld/Good Omens parallels that my brain picked up on at various times (usually 3 a.m. or thereabouts... Thanks, mum, for the persistent insomnia...)

Mild-to-moderate spoilers for Wyrd Sisters, Lords And Ladies, Men At Arms and Carpe Jugulum below the cut.

In A Life With Footnotes, the official biography of Terry Pratchett, Rob Wilkins mentions that when he was in school, a young Pterry wrote for English class a story (sadly lost to the mists of time) about orcs attacking a vicarage in full Jane-Austen-spoof fashion. Now, given how the Whickber Street Shopkeepers' Ball turned out, it seems reasonable to assume one of two things: a) this story was not a factor under consideration when writing S2 and the parallel is an ineffably delightful coincidence (a bit unlikely) b) this story *was* an inspiring factor in the writing of S2, and the nod to Pterry happened to work really well with the plot (seems a bit more likely). Either way, the parallel is there and giving me all of the warm fuzzies <3

There's an idea in Discworld, forming a significant part of the moral backbone of the series, that's very succinctly summed up by Granny Weatherwax in Carpe Jugulum: "[S]in [...] is when you treat people like things. Including yourself." This is absolutely at the core of what's wrong with Heaven and Hell and God and Satan in Good Omens; the leadership and culture of both organisations/cults treat everyone -- angels, demons and humans alike -- as disposable things to be used and toyed with and discarded or destroyed if they start having the temerity to be imperfect or form opinions or thoughts of their own.

There're two characters in Discworld who parallel Aziraphale surprisingly strongly: Magrat Garlick (of the Lancre witches) and Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch. -*Magrat is viewed as a bit of a soft, soppy 'wet hen' by the other witches, but she is still a witch, with all that that implies. She also has at least one scene in every book in which she appears where she does something extremely badass and witchy; for example, turning an ancient wooden door back into a tree, or (very pertinently to GO) delivering a literally iron-clad punch to the face of a villain who's mentally torturing her with her own insecurities. Likewise, Aziraphale seems to mostly be viewed as a bit dull and wimpy by the other angels we see (though Magrat still has the genuine respect of her witchy peers) but he is still an angel -- a Principality -- with all the powers, steadfast guardianship and bloody-minded stubbornness of that rank. The Metatrash might not be vulnerable to iron in the same way as Discworld elves, but you can bet that his attempt to break Aziraphale and bring him into line is going to backfire just as spectacularly! *For the parallel between Aziraphale and Captain (well, Corporal, at this point in the Discworld timeline) Carrot, the novel I have in mind is Men At Arms. At one point, Vimes is being held at crossbow-point by a villain, and has a bout of internal monologuing about how, if someone has you at their mercy, you'd better hope they're evil, because that way they'll take time to gloat and mock you so you'll have an opportunity to think of a way out; a good man will kill you with barely a word. Carrot does exactly that at the climax of the plot, putting his sword through the villain and the stone pillar behind said villain without saying a thing. Now, Aziraphale might not quite have Carrot's 'incorruptible pure pureness' tendencies, but he is -- for all his flaws -- a good person. If he knows that something needs to be done to prevent an evil outcome, he will DO it without hesitation. He knows how to use a sword, too, and if That Frickin' Elevator Smile Of Tranquil Fury is any indication, the Metatrash is in far deeper doodoo than he realises! Related to the above, The Smile also reminds me of the old adage, "beware the fury of a patient man." (Well, man-shaped being in this case...) Very appropriate for our careful, thoughtful angel -- it would not surprise me (much) if Metatron were to depart the plot of S3 with a flaming sword pinning him to one of Heaven's columns (probably won't happen, but I can dream, eh?)

Hope you enjoyed reading all that :D

[freyyzu]

PROMISE

All Cove wants is to see you happy, and all Baxter wants is to reassure him that he was going to do exactly that.

a/n; takes place some time during step 4 when your friends throw you another surprise party and you're off talking to someone else. i just think the two most important men in mc's life should interact a little more. implied step 3 ending on a bad note.

The twinkle of the fairy lights that hang from every wall of the first floor is mesmerizing. It's simple decoration, easy to put up, easy to get down, but beautiful all the same. The soft glow it emits puts Baxter at ease; even more so when accompanied by the sight of your smiling face.

His heart skips a beat when you glance over in his direction, your eyes meeting for the briefest moments. You discreetly wave at him, trying your best to not interrupt whatever story Terry is going on about, and he gives you a wave of his own back. He doesn't even try to fight the smile that tugs at his lips.

It was such a straightforward interaction, one that lasted all but three seconds, but just that was enough for him to feel the butterflies in his stomach lurch into a frenzy.

He's so enthralled by you, in fact, that he doesn't even notice the sound of someone making their way closer to him until they're already speaking.

"Uhm, how... how are you enjoying the party?" It's an expected question coming from an unexpected source.

Baxter turns to face the new presence by his side, more than a little surprised. Out of all the people here, Cove Holden would be the last person he expected to initiate a conversation, but the appearance isn't unwelcomed. Far from it.

"It's been fun," he says with full sincerity.

Despite the sparse decorations and only handful of people here, Baxter would say with his full heart that this is the best party he's ever been to. Surrounded by people who really care for him, those who took the time out of their day to surprise him even after all the stunts he's pulled. "Thank you for your part in this. I deeply appreciate it."

"Oh," Cove sputters, apparently flustered by the earnestness. "It's no problem. I'm... glad you're enjoying yourself."

Baxter smiles knowingly, "is there something on your mind?"

The taller male doesn't answer, but he fixes his gaze on a particular person across the room, still intently listening to Terry's story. Miranda and Xavier have joined them by this point.

'Ah.' his expression softens. "Are you worried about them?"

"Of course I am," he replies. Any hesitation in his voice from before lost within those four words. His hands clench and loosen by his sides a few times and he glances down at his feet, as if debating whether or not it was okay to say the next words.

You had forgiven Baxter a long time ago, that was a fact, but Cove couldn't forget your dejected expression or how many false smiles you wore to assure everyone you weren't hurt that summer.

Baxter waits quietly. He doesn't know exactly what your best friend intends to say, but from his fidgeting alone, he could garner a guess. Eventually though, he does break the silence. "I won't hurt them."

Cove looks over to your boyfriend, unable to keep the doubt from his expression. He trusts you, he wants you to be happy, that's all he ever wants for you; but that's even more of a reason for him to be wary. Baxter had broken your heart once, and he never wants to see that happen again.

"Can you promise that?"

There's a pause, and then a shake of a head from the black color haired man and Cove feels his heart nearly sink. "I'm not like you. I haven't known them my entire life. I'm just someone who showed up to the doorstep of your neighborhood one summer and then left."

There's a gleam in his brown eyes that make them seem to sparkle even more than the lights decorated around the room. "We'll have arguments, we'll get into fights," his voice lowers, "but I hope I can learn from those mistakes. That I'll make a better decision the next time." He turns to face Cove. "I can promise that."

Cove swallows the lump in his throat. He had come here to talk to Baxter, but in the end he ended up not being able to say anything at all. Though, maybe that was okay too. Whatever the lead up was, he heard what he needed to hear.

"Thank you," he says.

Baxter's face lights up at those words, eyes widening with boyish glee, before reverting back to his more well-known smirk. "No, thank you for coming over and chatting with me. I'm thankful we got to have this time together."

"Aha," Cove chuckles awkwardly now that the air has cleared. "But uh, Baxter?" He calls, wanting to get just one last word in.

"Yes?"

"You... should take care of yourself, too." And with that final statement, he steps forward to join your group.

Baxter blinks once.

He takes a moment to reign in his shock. Did Cove Holden of all people just give him some encouragement? He chuckles, straightening up as he spots you splitting from the circle to make your way over to his side.

This week has been full of surprises.