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#like i can see every part of their face its amazin
theageofsims · 7 months
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The Age of Sims 2.6 - Part 40 - “Knowing When To Walk Away”
What Gloria had hoped would be a bright morning that would lead into an even brighter day had quickly turned dim when she caught sight of a man whose name she couldn't even remember. Still, she greeted him as politely as she could, being sure not to be more friendly than needed knowing that her busy best friend Claire was the reason she met him in the first place.
And while she continued walking, hoping it would stop there -- it became more when he started talking to her like he was pecking at her. Insisting she give him a try and how enriched her life would be if she started to behave in a much better way -- one that he thought would suit him best.
But of course right when she was ready to put him in his place, Claire came strolling out in her stylish aura with a spring in her step and a look that told Gloria she picked the wrong day to venture out of her small house and take in some much needed fresh air.
Gloria said a quick hello and did her best to turn around and walk in the direction that would bring her back home where she felt like she could hide for a good hour or so, but that idea soon changed as she realized she had every right to walk where she wanted and if she had something to do she had every right in doing it regardless of the stares that she was getting from the both of them.
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And then Claire opened her mouth just as Gloria was turning back around… and the world seemed to stop turning as the light desert breeze vanished and the heat index seemed to sky rocket.
"You've got a lot of nerve showing your face around here." Claire began as her eyes darkened.
"I live here, Claire. As I remember it, it was you who took off and then thought to come back only to start trouble you honestly have no business starting."
"I'm the one starting trouble? Hm." She shook her head as her eyes narrowed even more. "I came back here to see what became of my hometown and it's a lucky thing I did because it was on its way to going straight to hell."
"It's actually better than it has been." Gloria stated with a hesistation, but one that was very slight.
Her answer only enraged Claire, which caused her to get right to the very core of her anger that seemed to have intensified in a day or so.
"That man has no place here."
"Leave him alone, Claire." Gloria began, hearing herself only made her feel unsure of herself because she never said anything remotely close to what she had just said. "I know you've been spying on him and you've been stopping him in the damn street. He's not bothering anybody. He had never bothered anybody."
"And you'd know this how? Oh right -- because you're sleeping with him."
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"THAT'S NOT THE REASON!"
"Sleeping with the enemy just like you know we both were raised not to do. And then you let him run loose and the next thing you know he's walking all up and down the street--"
"You do not own this street. The only thing you own is the property next door that I sometimes wish you never purchased."
Her words bit through Claire.
"I only purchased it because I thought we'd pick up where we left off -- like the sisters we never had."
"How can we pick up where we left off? We're grown, Claire."
"I only left for a few years. And I kept in touch."
"So did I!"
"You only lied your way through every conversation. Every single time I asked you how things were it was the same damn stories about work and then you mentioned this man and he was like a dream--"
Gloria rolled her eyes as claire continued despte Gloria telling her to shut up.
"This isn't the man you told me about."
"Honestly Claire -- that man did exist at one point, but there's a big reason why he doesn't now. And unlike you, I've gotten over it."
"Have you?"
"YES!" She insisted, wanting to waste no more time on thinking about Curtis and all that had transpired between them.
"So if he were to come back -- as amazin as he was, you'd turn him down?"
"I wouldn't even let him near my front door."
"That's cold."
"It's not." Gloria insisted, "He wasn't anything like I thought he would be as time went on."
"Maybe it's your fault."
Gloria stiffened at her words.
"You're not exactly the easiest woman to get along with."
"Right Claire, because I handle my own business and I take care of things that need taking care of. And because I speak my truth and I've got a mind of my own and every last fucking thing you insist is wrong with me because I'm nothing at all like you or all the other women you know." She paused only to catch her breath. "That man took from me in ways I never even thought would be imaginable until I had my fucking lights turned off!"
"It's not like you didn't have any place to lay…" She kept at it, "You've been going to bed with this guy for years."
"No I haven't, Claire."
"That's not the word on the street."
"And who is the word on the street? Eric?" Gloria shrugged. "I don't know what gives Eric the right to think he can control me or try to control me."
"He was your first, wasn't he? And your mother knew his mother well."
"We were young, Claire. I'm in my 40s -- I'm a grown woman. I don't need him to look after me or to prevent other guys from talking to me."
"So you fault him because he's being a good guy."
Gloria opened her mouth only to close it.
"What makes this guy able to be good, but the others--"
"Leave William alone." She stated, more firmly now.
"Don't you find it odd that a guy like him would want anything to do with a girl like you?"
Gloria stayed silent.
"That a guy like him would want to be in an area like this? For what? To get back to his roots? He has no roots here! This isn't his land, this isn't his place!"
Her words were swirling around her head, banging on her skull to be led in like they would have so easily been able to do before…
"Your life is nothing like his and it never will be. Do you you know what he said to Tamarie when she decided to go against me and walk over to your house?"
"He only told her to come back in a few hours." She stared at her best friend.
"She asked him who he was and he said he was a really good friend of yours." Claire paused and waited, but Gloria never said a word. "How does that make you feel to be referred to as a friend?"
"Look, Claire…" She stopped herself and thought for what seemed like an eternity. "We've got a relationship just like others do, it's just… different in ways anyone can see… so…"
"Can't see through the haze, huh?" Claire smirked. "It's eating away at you day by day--"
"Stop it, Claire." She said around a sharp nod. "I am trying to level with you and be honest with you because I feel like you deserve that much, but I won't have you judging my relationship with him." She tried to plead with her eyes, but it was going unseen. "I really care for him. I've cared for him for a long time and -- "
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"Guess the feeling is one-sided then." Claire shrugged off her words, finding them to be more sickening than anything else. "Nothing is real when it isn't official."
"It is official. He's the only one that's been official. No one else wanted to go that far with me, except for him."
"And that -- that doesn't sound off any alarms for you?" Claire cruelly laughed, the sound emerging out of her throat almost like a growl. "Wake up, Gloria. All it'll take for somebody like him is to wash the dirt off his clothes and head uptown. Women will flock to him once they know his name because of course, he was once a renowned scientist which means he's got money…" She laughed again, "But you already knew that. You knew all about him before you let him come inside…" She paused, waiting as her words lingered. "You were waiting for him to take pity and that's why he kept coming back. Now that he's gotten what he wanted, what on earth makes you think he'll stay forever?"
Without saying anything, Gloria began walking away.
"Keep away from my girls. I don't want them getting any ideas from their Ant next door."
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thecrownisagift · 7 years
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INCREDIBLE quality J2 Morning Panel
Thanks to  Amberdreams
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MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar
(Part 3! Starring Mini Mammon and Mini Asmo!)
Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Underground Tomb special Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Part 4
MC names:
Lucifer’s kid=L!MC | Mammon’s kid=M!MC | Asmo’s kid=A!MC
Why did bad things happen to good people? Well... Lucifer being a good person is up to interpretation. He hadn’t done anything too heinous recently, his instruments of torture were collecting dust for goodness sake! So why oh why was he staring down two half demon children who looked suspiciously like two of his brothers?
The first kid to step forward was Mammon’s without a doubt, but their general demeanour was very different from their father’s. Perhaps their other parent had done a good job-
“What the fuck was that?!”
Never mind. The kid had Mammon’s pottymouth.
The other child surveyed the scene with a nervousness that their suspected parent never possessed. The kid’s gaze fell on Lucifer, their eyes began to glow ever so slightly. “Uh-um...” the kid cleared their throat. “Someone explain what’s going on!”
Was this child seriously trying to use manipulation powers on Lucifer? He almost laughed at the mere idea of someone trying. The child didn’t even seem to be aware that they were doing it. When their question was met with blank stares, they instantly shrank back and practically hid behind the first half demon. Despite the severe self-esteem difference, this kid was Asmodeus’.
Lucifer’s own child cleared their throat and smiled. “Welcome to the Devildom!”
The Uncle That Looks Like he Has his Shit Together but he Leaves the Reunion Drunk off his Rocker (Lucifer)
Ah shit here we go again-
Okay- okay. Normally he’d scold L!MC for taking Diavolo’s line, but Dia had recovered from his shock and was now gushing over the new exchange students like an excited puppy.
“Okay... L!MC you’re going to need to share your room.”
“What?! Why?!”
“Unless Belphie is willing to give up the attic as a nap spot-”
“OVER MY DEAD BODY!”
“You’re sharing your room.”
RAD was buzzing with gossip for the entire first month of the second attempt at the exchange program. The threats of being eaten were once again stamped out very quickly.
(Special thanks to L!MC for being a good bodyguard)
Now, Lucifer didn’t exactly know what to expect when it came to the child of his favourite brother. Mammon was a dumbass, but this kid... this kid...
Was smart.
For the first time in Lucifer’s very long life he felt compelled to place someone in a higher echelon than himself.
Mammon’s child managed to successfully budget that dumpster fire of a house. On the first fucking day. Not only that. This kid managed to skim FIVE THOUSAND GRIMM OFF THE TOP AND THE BUDGET STILL WORKED! WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT-
Lucifer and Mammon thanked whatever spirit was watching over them because they truly believed their financial woes were over.
Shame that M!MC also spent their money on dumb stuff they didn’t need. Like father like child.
It’s no secret that Lucifer does have a bit of a soft spot for Asmo, I mean, who doesn’t love Asmo? But A!MC was a blessing sent right from the Celestial Realm.
They were just... too sweet. Way too sweet. Lucifer was actively getting cavities just being near them.
Anyone who bothered A!MC and M!MC during the first month ended up getting... uh... suspended.
(We can assume the threat of suspension would have extended to those who bothered L!MC but all the lesser demons were already terrified of them.)
Normally when Lucifer called someone into his study it was to lecture them for at least four hours and then send them to their rooms, but he was having quite the difficult time actually being upset with M!MC and A!MC.
A!MC looked close to tears and M!MC just stared right back at Lucifer with little to no fear in their eyes.
“Starting a fight during the first week of school is not how I expected the exchange students to behave.” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, and prepared to continue the lecture, when he heard a sniffle. There wasn’t enough Demonus in the entire Devildom...
“I-I’m s—sorry...” A!MC sniffled, quickly wiping at their eyes. “Th-they were being r-really scary and we did-didn’t know what else to do...”
“So you threw them out of a window?”
“I threw them out of the window.” M!MC huffed. “They were bein’ a dick.”
“So you threw them out of a window?”
“That um...” A!MC mumbled. “That’s not all... I may have... told them to stick their head in a toilet first...”
“You made them stick their head in a toilet,” Lucifer turned to M!MC. “And then you threw them out of a window?”
“Yes.” M!MC and A!MC replied. Lucifer downed the rest of his glass of Demonus and debated whether or not it would be a show of weakness to slam his forehead into the desk in front of the children.
Lucifer looked between the two for a moment, then shook his head and sighed. “It’s my job to deal with threats to the exchange students, not yours.” Lucifer stood in front of the two, he rested his hands on their heads and gave them a quick pat, before knocking their heads together. “Next time someone bothers you, tell me. If I hear even a whisper of you two getting into another fight, I’m hanging you from the ceiling. Is that clear?”
A!MC and M!MC looked at each other, then back at Lucifer and nodded. “Yes sir!”
“Good.” Lucifer removed his hand from their heads. “Now shoo.”
Flying lessons for the two of them went way quicker than it did for L!MC, mainly because L!MC was a way better teacher.
As much as Lucifer loved his newly found niblings, he couldn’t show it too much. Outward softness was reserved for L!MC and L!MC only. M!MC and A!MC were stuck with silent acts of affection.
Every once and a while a little present or two would end up in M!MC or A!MC’s possession. Some ice cream money for M!MC when they blew their part of the budget on fancy sunglasses, a multiplayer video game that the three half-demons could play together, new shoes when A!MC accidentally ruined their’s...
He’s a good uncle. A scary uncle. But a good uncle. ^_^
(Don’t tell him I said that, I’m still in trouble for advertising Mammon’s escape Go Fund Me and I don’t want to have to write the rest of this HC hanging upside down.)
He’s Not Like the Other Dads, he’s a Cool Dad! (Mammon)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (Fear)
He’s a dad?! HE’S TO YOUNG TO BE A DAD! Hang on- he’s over five thousand years old...
Oh would you look at that! His kid pulled out a calculator.
...his annual income? Uh... why do you- HEY! WHAT’S WITH THAT FACE?!
M!MC puffed out their cheek as they continued to add the ever growing list of numbers into the calculator. Mammon was trying to get a peak at what they were calculating. M!MC suddenly looked up and practically lit up the room with their smile. Aw, their fangs were growing in!
They had a devilishly charming smile, just like their pop! A real chip off the old block! It almost brought a tear to Mammon’s eye and he actually felt compelled to give this kid all the money he had on him. Maybe even his Rolex too!
“Mammon, Avatar of Greed,” M!MC said sweetly. “My... dad.”
“Yep! That’s uh... that’s me!” Mammon awkwardly ruffled his kid’s hair, the kid laughed good naturedly.
M!MC’s sweet as honey smile flipped from elated to malicious in a manner of nanoseconds. “You owe over thirteen years of child support. Dad.”
Everyone say thank you to Lucifer and Diavolo for getting M!MC to compromise and not try and sue their father.
If you thought Mammon spoiled L!MC you’ve got another thing coming. Mammon’s wallet never stood a chance against his kid.
Poor Goldie, press F to pay respects.
Mammon also tried to teach A!MC and M!MC to drive, M!MC has no regard for their safety, the safety of others, or the laws of the road, buuuuuuuut they manage to get the car back with no dents and no property damage bills are being delivered to the house sooooo...
A!MC can drive fine... it’s just that they adhere to literally every law known to demonkind, which means neither Mammon or Asmo are allowed to open up the sunroof and do that movie thing where they pop their heads out and yell something. ITS NOT SAFE!
Our beloved dummy also tried to teach his kid how to play poker, with... limited success.
“Aw, come on kiddo.” Mammon smirked, flicking his kid on the nose. “Your poker face is awful, I can also see your cards from here.”
M!MC growled and held their cards closer to their face. “My poker face is fine!” It was in fact, not fine.
Mammon scratched his head and thought for a moment. Was he sure that this kid was his? I mean, they weren’t good at poker, had terrible luck in blackjack and roulette, and could barely understand the rules of craps. Craps! While he was lamenting the loss of possible gambling winnings, an idea hit Mammon at a thousand miles an hour.
“Hey kid, you’re damn good at math like your great and amazin’ father, have you ever thought about learnin’ how to count cards?”
Fancy outfits on, hair done (sorta), car ready, the two were off to the casino after quite the intense training montage. It appeared that casinos in the Devildom allowed children inside... Diavolo should really fix that.
“Okay M!MC, you remember what to do, right?”
“Yes. Remember the signal, and if someone catches on, deny deny deny.”
Mammon gave his kid a slap on the back. “Damn straight! You got this, bud.”
As the night dragged on, M!MC and Mammon had made their weight in money, paper money, they had made a SHIT ton is what I’m saying. Tragically, neither the Avatar of Greed or his child had any sense to leave before their luck crashed like the Stock Market in 1929.
They were both Icarus, and they were playing chicken with the sun... and by 3 am they were also playing chicken with security.
“GO GO GO!” Mammon shouted as he and M!MC sprinted towards the car, the night’s winnings in hand.
“I think I lost a shoe!” M!MC gasped as they scrambled into the car, security on their heels.
“I’ll buy you new shoes JUST PUT ON YOUR SEATBELT!”
Re-enacting every Fast and the Furious movie in twenty minutes was how that lovely night of father/child bonding should have ended... until they got home and realized they were locked out.
“The window to my room!” M!MC whispered, pointing up at their window. “It’s usually unlocked, we can climb up to get to it.”
“Good idea!”
M!MC tucked the bag full of their precious money under their arm and began the climb to their window, their father close behind. They had almost made it, they were so close, M!MC could literally touch the window-
The window swung open and the smiling faces of L!MC and A!MC greeted them.
“Oh my, it looks like we have some delinquents breaking curfew~.” L!MC cooed, resting their head on their hand.
“You shouldn’t be gambling this late! A-and your accessories don’t match!” A!MC huffed.
“Oi! L!MC, A!MC! What are ya doin’ up this late! It’s not good for ya!” Mammon whisper-yelled.
“My sleep schedule should be the least of your concerns right now, right A!MC?” L!MC elbowed A!MC, who nodded enthusiastically.
“Yep! Those who break curfew are hung from the ceiling by their toes.” A!MC shuddered.
M!MC rolled their eyes and stuck out their hand. “Come on L!MC! Let us in! You should listen to your older cousin!”
Upon hearing M!MC pull the older cousin card L!MC smiled deviously, grabbing both of M!MC’s hands. “Of course, dear cousin.” They leaned in. “Long live the king!”
L!MC shoved M!MC downward, Mammon caught them, but lost his own grip and they both lost hold of the money, which fell out of the bag and onto the ground like snow. Paper snow...
Oh well, at least Mammon and M!MC landed in some of the bushes...
“Ya know,” Mammon said as the money fell around them. “I’ve had dreams where this has happened.”
“Wow,” M!MC smiled. “Me too!”
Yep. This was his kid alright.
Not all his father/kid time revolved around money, it also revolved around both of them trying to avoid horror movie night without making it look like they were chickening out.
“Okay, I’ll fake a medical emergency!”
“Kid, no! They’ll never believe that!”
Since A!MC had their father’s eye for fashion and none of the judgemental comments, the kid became Mammon’s unofficial style coach.
“U-um... I hate to say it but those shoes don’t match with the rest of the outfit, the silhouette is confusing...”
“What’re ya talkin’ about? I look fantastic!”
“Are you blind? You look like a thrift store threw up on you.”
“Who invited you, Asmo?!”
“I’m here to support A!MC! You’re doing great by the way, sweetie!”
He may have cried a little when M!MC was able to fly without help... sniffle... they grow up so fast...
Oh- oh fuck they both crashed into the tree-
Oh My God he Actually Showed Up?! (Levi)
That... that couldn’t be real life! A shut-in’s worst nightmare! More people he needed to talk to!
Considering Mammon and Asmo’s track record with taking care of his things, Levi was incredibly hesitant to invite the two to binge anime with him and L!MC.
It seemed that the two normies inherited their fathers’s level of respect for closed doors. What I’m saying is the two crashed anime night.
“I have never seen such bullshit before.”
M!MC’s hands were stuffed in about five pairs of socks each, effectively turning their hands into useless nubs.
“You be quiet! This is to make sure that you don’t take any of my things and try and sell them on Akuzon!” Levi hissed, turning back to make sure his figurines were safe from the mini Mammon. A!MC was standing awkwardly next to L!MC, who was sitting in Levi’s gaming chair reading manga.
“So what are we going to watch..?” A!MC piped up. “I haven’t really watched much anime but I did watch Digimon...”
“I was more of a Beyblade kid.” M!MC hit their sock-stumps together to make a thumping noise.
Levi looked like he was ready to have a stroke. “L-listen! Those are gateway anime! You two need to watch proper anime! Non-dubbed anime!”
A!MC let out a shriek and stared at their reflection in a very shiny looking gundam figurine. “Have I been wearing off colour lip gloss the entire day?! O-oh no... I’m a mess!”
Levi let out a strangled wail and snatched the gundam out of A!MC’s hands. “D-don’t touch that! It’s worth more than a house!”
“It is?!” M!MC perked up and tried to wrestle their way out of their sock-gloves.
“Don’t make me stick you in a straight jacket...” Levi growled. He turned to L!MC with a pleading look on his face. “Please make them stop...”
L!MC grinned deviously and closed their book. “Of course I’ll help you, if we watch season two of The Promised Neverland.”
Levi shrieked and nearly pulled out his hair then and there. “It’s manga divergent! MANGA DIVERGENT! THEY SKIPPED SO MANY ARCS!”
M!MC and A!MC continued to wreak both purposeful and accidental havoc on Levi’s room, he was just about ready to summon Lotan then and there when L!MC shrugged.
“The ball’s in your court, Levi.” L!MC leaned back in the chair and resumed reading their manga.
Levi’s willpower shattered the moment he heard something fall off one of his cabinets. “WE CAN WATCH WHATEVER YOU WANT JUST MAKE THEM STOOOOOP!”
Quick as a flash, L!MC was out of the chair and had both M!MC and A!MC by the ears.
“HEY!” L!MC growled. “STOP ACTING LIKE IDIOTS OR SO HELP ME GRANDFATHER YOU TWO WON’T LIVE TO SEE GRADUATION!”
M!MC and A!MC became the most well behaved children in the Devildom after that... and L!MC and Levi got to watch their anime in peace.
Okay, Levi wasn’t heartless, he loved his lame normie niblings. They were just very very loud...
Though, M!MC was very good at finding merch for way lower prices... and A!MC actually really liked some of the anime they watched... Maybe they weren’t so bad.
M!MC’s attempts to budget that financial dumpster fire of an otaku was not going well, at least until M!MC convinced Lucifer to dangle concert tickets in front of Levi like a carrot on a stick until he agreed to do his best to stay within the monthly budget.
Levi had learned his lesson from L!MC’s flying lessons and steered clear of them, but luck was not on his side. The ONE time he willingly stepped outside of the house...
Both M!MC and A!MC crashed right into him.
The Uncle With the Cat You Never See and Aren’t Really Allowed to Pet. (Satan)
Oh fuck him sideways the house was going to be so much louder... Say goodbye to his quiet reading time...
On the bright side, the look of pure disbelief and exhaustion on Lucifer’s face gave Satan the biggest rush of serotonin he’d ever had in his life.
To be honest, he got on well with Asmo, and he... well it’s Mammon.
Could have been worse.
Could have been ANOTHER child of Lucifer.
“So... who do you think did it?” M!MC asked as the opening to the fourth episode of the murder documentary they were watching began. “I think it was the sister.”
“On what evidence do you make that assumption?” Satan asked.
M!MC shrugged. “Chick’s shifty.”
“I um... I think they disappeared on their own accord.” A!MC murmured. “I mean, so far it seemed the two’s home lives sucked...”
“Good theory.” Satan nodded to himself. “But both of you are wrong, it was very clearly the mother and the neighbour.”
“On what evidence do you make that assumption?” L!MC asked, imitating Satan’s voice. Detective Toe Beans was sprawled out on their lap.
Satan glowered at L!MC and leaned over to scratch Bean behind the ears. “The step-mother and neighbour are backing up each other’s alibis and they have a motive, access to a possible murder weapon, and a way of disposing of the corpses.”
L!MC rolled their eyes. “That’s a load of crap. It was just the step-mother. The mother had the motive, she and the father were on the outs, she wanted the father’s inheritance all to herself so she got rid of his kids.”
“How many more episodes of this are there?” M!MC asked. “This seems like a really dragged out way of just saying: I don’t know.”
“Sh! They’re explaining possible corpse disposal methods!” Satan hissed.
The four of them traded theories until the documentary series eventually ended with an unsatisfying ‘we dunno’.
“This is such shit...” M!MC muttered. “How have they managed to fill eight episodes with all these leads and evidence and the case is still unsolved?!”
“It’s because everyone involved was incompetent and stupid.” Satan sighed.
“You know,” L!MC smirked. “With all the true crime stuff the four of us watch, we could create the perfect crime.”
“We really could.” M!MC nodded in agreement.
“Using A!MC’s powers no one would suspect us...” Satan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Uh...” A!MC shifted uncomfortably. “On an unrelated note... I’m going to go...”
As A!MC scampered out of the room, L!MC turned to Satan and M!MC.
“There’s always the one weak person in the group who’s not down with murder.”
“A sad truth.”
“Hang on I thought we were talking about theft or something-”
Satan and M!MC are surprising study buddies, hell, they even help Mammon study. Or... it’s more accurate to say that they try to help Mammon study.
A!MC is good company, they’re quiet when they read, unlike most people in the house who felt the need to provide commentary on every single event that occurs in the book.
After proving to be quite useless in L!MC’s flight lessons, he just reminded the two new half demons to wear protective padding.
The Hot Single Dad That’s In Every Romcom That Features a Child (Asmo)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (excitement)
Oh... his... father... HE WAS A DILF NOW-
He practically vaulted out of his seat to coo and fuss over his new found hellspawn, they were just SO CUTE!
Their wings were just like his! So adorable! Oh and those little horns! They were so cute Asmo just might have combusted then and there.
Of course, he couldn’t combust without finding out which of his flings had made such an adorably shy mini-him.
“Ah! I remember that party!” Asmo squee-ed as he looked at a picture of A!MC’s parent. “They looked so hot in that outfit I swear I was completely-”
“Asmodeus.” Lucifer grumbled. “That’s a child in front of you.”
“Oh! Right! Mind if I call your ren, A!MC?” Asmo asked, ruffling their kid’s hair. “I want to see if they remember me fondly!”
As Asmo chattered with A!MC’s parent about just how adorable and perfect their kid turned out, Asmo leaned over to A!MC to ask a question.
“A!MC, I know this is sudden but how do you feel about getting a sib-”
“ASMODEUS IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE I WILL FEED YOU TO CERBERUS!”
“Tsk. Rude.”
It’s safe to say Asmo adores his kid. I mean, they’re 50% him, how could he not.
He didn’t exactly have experience with the whole... being a big part of his kids’s life thing. Sure he held the unofficial record for most kids but that was because effective birth control hadn’t been invented at the time when he was allowed to run rampant in the human world, not because he was an A+ dad.
None of that mattered! He was going to be a 10/10 dad to A!MC!
They were so shy... so... mouse-like...
“Um... dad?” A!MC awkwardly twiddled there thumbs as they stood in the doorway to their father’s room. The sweet smell of whatever essential oil was being spread with the diffuser did next to nothing to calm the poor half-demon’s nerves.
Asmo popped his head out of his walk-in closet with a sparkling smile. “Yes, child of mine?”
“I um, just wanted to ask...” A!MC was desperately trying to stave off an oncoming stutter-spiral. “H-h-how- *ahem* how do- ugh...”
A!MC steeled their face and straightened their posture.
“How do I be confident like you?!” They blurted that out a little too loud for comfort, but Asmo’s near-immediate joy quashed any embarrassment A!MC was feeling.
“You want to be like little ol’ me?” Asmo gushed, clearly trying to hide just how flattered he was. “Well, of course you do! Your dad’s got your back. So first what we’re going to do-”
The Avatar of Lust had done the stereotypical early 2000s movie makeover many times before, but never with so much enthusiasm. His kid’s style was fine, it wasn’t a lack of pizazz either, it was the lack of confidence in the pizazz.
“Okay, now stand up straight.”
A!MC straightened their back as much as they could.
“Perfect! Chin up, shoulders back, and there you go!”
A!MC didn’t look too different on account that Asmo felt like their fashion sense was perfect, but dear not-old dad coached MC on a new walk, better posture, and Asmo filled their arms with about seven boxes of self-care supplies.
“What’s all this for?” A!MC asked, shifting the weight of the boxes slightly so they could actually see their dad.
“That, A!MC, is all the stuff you need to have confidence.” Asmo explained. “It’s not required of course, but it sure does help.”
“I’m not sure I follow...”
“Oh sweetie, it’s simple really. When you take care of yourself, you feel better, and when you feel better, you look better, and when you look better and feel better, your confidence skyrockets!” Asmo shifted some of the boxes A!MC was carrying around so they could stand up straighter and not be held down by the weight of the self-care arsenal. “Good posture stops your back from hurting, dressing decently helps you feel better about your appearance, as does taking care of your skin, aaaaaand all this will culminate in you being your best!”
A!MC still looked a bit skeptical, but they nodded anyway.
“Remember MC!” Asmo said as he led MC back to their room to help them sort their new stuff. “Confidence in yourself doesn’t happen overnight, so don’t let Mammon try and sell you a fix-all potion because it’s just boiled Gatorade.”
“O-okay- wait did you just say-”
“Yes, boiled Gatorade.” Asmo shuddered. “Let’s not talk about that.”
Dear uncle Asmo? A financial dumpster fire?! It’s more likely than you’d think.
Sure, Asmo’s got a job and makes his own money, but Geez Louise... one demon does not need that much hand cream! Or that many questionable Akuzon packages that everyone is too afraid to touch...
M!MC had their work cut out for them is what I’m trying to say.
Of course... once M!MC realized what a lost cause getting Asmo to stop with the obsessive bath bomb purchases was and a few too many insults were thrown at M!MC’s dear dad... some of Asmo’s things went uh... “missing”
But would you look at that! No one went over-budget!
Even though their dads have a fierce party related rivalry, A!MC and M!MC get along great. It’s very wholesome.
The Uncle That Helps You Pester Whoever is in Charge of the Food at the Family Reunion About Dessert (Beel)
Yay! More kids :)
Do you think any of them know how to cook? No? Okay... :(
Beel adores his new niblings with all his heart and soul, and Belphie’s out of the attic and is able to meet them with everyone else this time! Yay!
I didn’t mention this in the other parts- but Beel totally gave L!MC piggyback rides whenever they asked, but now that two more kids have arrived... it’s now a fight to be tall.
But yea- kids like uncle Beel. Strong contender for favourite uncle.
“Do you think this is right?” A!MC asked as they fiddled with the settings on the stovetop.
“No clue. Do we put the cheese on while the meat is cooking or do we wait until after?” M!MC asked, they flipped through multiple cheeseburger recipes on their DDD, their frustration growing. “Hang on- do we have a deep fryer?”
A!MC rummaged around the cupboards and shelves for a good fifteen minutes and came back empty handed. “No, but I’ve seen videos of people making fries without a deep fryer, I think we just need to heat up vegetable oil and drop the potatoes in.”
After setting up the make-shift deep fryer, the two cousins carefully dropped the first fry into the oil, then screamed like banshees when some oil splashed close to their hands.
“Did you get burned?!” M!MC asked, A!MC shook their head.
“No, you?”
“Nah...” M!MC eyed the oil warily. “We should do this one at a time to be safe...”
It was an awkward process, grab potato, place potato, scream, make sure no one is burned, repeat. As... decent as the process was, with both of them manning the deep fryer, no one was manning the patties that were now completely charred.
“What’s going on in here? It smells like Solomon’s cooking.” Beel poked his head into the kitchen and saw two very upset children and the world’s messiest kitchen.
“We’re failures. That’s all...” M!MC murmured.
“We wanted to make lunch for all of us and we ruined it...” A!MC added.
Beel’s heart was set to explode then and there- but his stomach growled. “You tried your best, don’t feel too bad. Let’s get cheeseburgers somewhere else with Belphie.”
M!MC and A!MC nodded enthusiastically as the three of them left the destroyed kitchen behind them.
After Beel had to sling a sleeping Belphie over his shoulder, the now four of them were halfway out the door before they heard L!MC scream bloody murder.
“YOU IDIOTS COME BACK HERE AND CLEAN THIS MESS UP RIGHT NOW!”
M!MC and A!MC made eye contact, then sprinted out the door. “CHEESEBURGERS FIRST!”
A!MC and M!MC probably go to all of Beel’s games like the little super fans they are. Beel is very grateful for the support! :D
Flying lessons? Nnnnnot again. He’s here for moral support and moral support only. And to catch the two babs when they inevitably fall.
The Uncle Who Was Like... Really Racist the Last Time You Saw Him But He’s Not Anymore (Belphie)
So he uh... he didn’t try and kill these two. That already gave the two newbies a better first impression than what he gave to L!MC.
The Anti Lucifer league ALSO grew, just by one member though. A!MC was very easily persuaded to snitch on whatever prank the group concocted.
The attic nap club gained two new members, but Belphie still had to deal with wings hitting him in the face and waking him up. He’d usually return the favour with a swat from his tail.
“M!MC I swear I will throw you out of the window if you kick me again.” Belphie murmured, mashing his face into his pillow.
“Mmmph.” M!MC threw a pillow in Belphie’s direction.
“Quit whining, Belphie.” L!MC huffed. “You’re doing better than me.”
A!MC had attached themselves to L!MC like a sloth to a tree and would not let go or stop drooling. Ah schadenfreude, the best feeling in the galaxy...
“Stop with that look.” L!MC hissed, Belphie snickered. “I’m telling you to quit it because you’ll wake up Beel, and Beel is solving your M!MC problem.”
Belphie turned to see Beel practically crush M!MC into a bone breaking hug in his sleep.
“Should we do something about that?” L!MC yawned.
Belphie smirked his little douchebag smirk. “Eh, let them stew for a few more minutes.”
“Help me...” M!MC rasped.
Out of the three, A!MC is probably the best nap buddy, they bring in their own pillows and don’t hog the blankets.
Belphie is once again at the forefront for taking videos of the flying lessons, at least till M!MC accidentally broke Belphie’s DDD.
Just a friendly reminder, the sleepy cow man would kill for these kids.
Look at them funny and no one will find your body.
Okay! That’s part 3 done! I had to cut Belphie’s and Satan’s short because of post limit stuff, but the stuff with the side characters is coming soon! Also, Mammon would like me to inform all those who donated to his Go Fund Me that you will NOT be getting your money back, he has a kid to deck out in full Gucci now, he needs the cash!
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sad-sweet-cowboah · 4 years
Text
Of My Barest Thoughts
Summary: After giving birth to your daughter, the changes your body experienced throughout and after pregnancy has placed a negative impact on your mind. Your husband Arthur, however, has a different perspective.
Warnings: Postpartum body dysmorphia
Word Count: 1253
A/N: I’ve heard it’s common for women (and others who have given birth) to experience body dysmorphia postpartum. I’ve never been pregnant so this isn’t a personal experience, however this was an idea I came up with after coming across a body positivity graphic for new moms.
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The mirror hadn’t been your friend lately.
You didn’t recognize the woman standing in front of you. What once was an image you could describe as beautiful has turned into the opposite. What used to be self-love had morphed slowly from disdain to disgust. You couldn’t believe how much had changed.
You eyed your nude reflection slowly, scanning every fine feature. The cellulite trapped within your thighs. The patches of discoloration peppering your midsection, highlighted by the band of stretchmarks and loose, wrinkled skin surrounding your navel. The rolls hugging your waistline. Your once perky breasts now engorged with milk, your nipples swollen from your little one’s suckling.
Pregnancy had certainly taken more than its fair share on your body.
You ran your hands along your stomach, the faint reminder of excitement of wanting to meet your baby just a mere flicker of dying light in the back of your mind. Regretting the decision to have a child was never a second thought, though the aftereffects were something left to be desired.
How could this happen?
Turning to view your side, seeing how much your belly poked out. Your midsection took the brunt, your muscles still regaining strength after a month since giving birth. It almost seemed as if you were a shell of your former self, knowing you’d never return to that former state, and you hated it.
The bedroom door creaked open, and you spotted the reflection of your husband walking in. “Jus’ changed her diaper and put ‘er down for a nap,” he spoke without looking directly at you. As he closed the door, his eyes met yours in the mirror. “Whatchoo doin’?” he asked, stepping up behind you.
Ever such a large and handsome man, Arthur was always taller and broader than you. More than once he described how much he loved your body, worshipping it in every physical, emotional and intimate manner. Being new parents meant true affection for one another was far and few in between. His attitude toward you never changed despite the fatigue, although often wondered if it was forced, perhaps his physical attraction for you was dying.
“Just…looking at myself.” You mumbled to him, trying to keep your voice neutral.
Arthur however was not fooled. He caught your furrowed brow and slight frown tugging the corners of your mouth. Placing his warm hands on your waist, he replied, “Admirin’ how beautiful you are?”
“But I’m not beautiful,” you sighed heavily. “I look disgusting.”
“What makes you think that?” he asked, his frown matching yours.
“You see what I see, don’t you?” you huffed, gesturing toward the mirror. “I didn’t look like this before I got pregnant.”
Arthur’s eyes slowly raked the entirety of your figure, viewing every inch of your naked skin. You searched for a look of disgust on his face. He instead wrapped his arms around you in a loose embrace. “I see my gorgeous wife, nothin’ else.”
You scoffed in disbelief. “C’mon Arthur, don’t do that. I know you can see a difference.”
“The only difference I see is a strong woman who became a mother,” he responded softly, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder.
“But my body changed so much,” you muttered sorrowfully. “I hate it.”
“That really botherin’ you that much?” he asked, meeting your gaze once again.
“Of course it is, I looked so different before the pregnancy, hell I looked better!” you complained. “But I gained weight, I have loose skin and ugly stretchmarks. I must look ugly to you too.”
The look Arthur gave was genuine shock and confusion. He straightened up and moved one of his arms from your waist, sliding his hand to caress your jaw. He turned your head to look at him directly. “Why would I ever think that?”
Pulling your head away, your eyes cast downward shamefully. “Because I know how much you loved my body before… I don’t think you’d like it now, not like this,” Your breath shuddered as your eyes began to sting with the threat of tears. “I feel so unattractive to you now.”
He released a small exhale and murmured to you, “Y/N, look at me.”
You were hesitant, almost afraid to see his reaction. Blinking the beginnings of tears from your eyes, you slowly turned your focus back to him. His eyes were soft and loving, just as they always were.
“I love you,” he spoke plainly, placing his hand against your cheek. “I don’t care how your body looks.”
“But –”
“Let me finish,” he gently interrupted. With slight pressure, he turned your head back to the mirror. “I know how much a woman can change while she’s pregnant. That’s somethin’ I could never do, nor ever completely understand,” his voice was low and peaceful. The hand still wrapped around your torso moved to rest upon your abdomen. “You carryin’ our child. Every day I watched her grow bigger inside you, and you couldn’t have looked more beautiful like that.”
His words allowed a ghost of a smile to touch your lips, except it wasn’t enough to banish the self-deprecating thoughts. “Doesn’t change the fact that after all of that, I look like shit.” You murmured to yourself.
“You don’t,” his voice hardened slightly. Fingers trailing along your stretchmarks, following along the fine ridges as if tracing patterns. “I see it as a reminder of how strong you are,” His calloused palm tickled your soft flesh as he journeyed upward, briefly cupping your breast. “How much you changed to care for our little one,” back down he ventured, exploring your curves like a well-read map. His fingertips dragged along your thigh. “Nine months of nurturin’ a new life, nothin’ short of amazin’.”
His touch soothed you, beginning to calm your hammering heart and woeful mind. You hardly noticed you were leaning completely against him, allowing his warmth to encompass you. “Arthur…” you sighed quietly.
He gave you a warm smile in the mirror, releasing your face to push your damp hair aside to bare your neck. He pressed his lips against your shoulder, placing a trail of kisses along the junction. His path halted at the shell of your ear, his breath giving a slight tickle. “I still think you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that for me, sweetheart.” He whispered.
Heat licked at your cheeks and a small smile of your own finally graced your face, bashfully averting your eyes as if you were a young girl again. His arms encircled you once more, pulling you completely into his loving embrace. He began to rock you with a slow rhythm, and kissed your cheek.
“I love you,” he repeated. “Every part of you.”
Tilting your head to look at him directly, noting the adoration on his face. You smiled at him and responded, “I love you too Arthur, so so much.”
He smiled even wider at you, leaning in further to lay a sweet kiss onto your lips. “I hope that was ‘nough for you.”
“More than enough from you,” you quietly giggled. “But reminders are nice too.”
“Guess I owe ya that much, after you’ve been tellin’ me for years to respect myself,” Arthur replied, tucking stray locks behind your ear. “Gotta return the favor. Can’t have my lady feelin’ bad about herself now.”
You hummed in response, turning around in his arms to face him completely. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stood on your toes to kiss him once again.
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sacklerscumrag · 4 years
Text
Part III of III: Stay With Me Series
Clyde Logan X Female Reader
Summary: A Halloween party at Duck Tape and meeting Clyde’s family? This was going to be one hell of a night.
Warnings: fluff, smut, PIV sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex
Word Count: 2.2K
Part I Part II ao3
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      Halloween was tomorrow and Boone County certainly seemed to look the part. The streets were decorated with dense foliage in stunning colors of crimson red and burnt orange with pumpkins on every corner. Your mind was still buzzing with memories from your date with Clyde the other night when all of a sudden, your phone buzzed, snapping you out of it. It was him.
     “Hey Clyde” your stomach jumped when you answered the phone.
     “Hey Darlin, how’s yer day goin?” the sounds of glasses being set down could be heard on the other side of the phone.
     “Not so bad, bookstores been busy with Halloween being so close”
     “That’s actually what I was callin bout. Wanna come to a Halloween party were throwin here at the bar tomorrow? We do it every year, it’s a lotta fun and everybody gets real dressed up n all” you could hear him clear his throat, it warmed your heart knowing he still got himself worked up over you.
     “That sounds fun, what time?”
     “Well I gotta be there earlier to set up n all that but ya can come around 10 if ya want. Is that alright?”
     “Of course, I’ll see you tomorrow then” you smirked while fiddling with the pages in your book.
     “See ya tomorrow beautiful” you hung up the phone when it hit you. You had less than one day to put together a costume. Shit.
                                Clydes POV
     Clyde let out a deep breath as he hung up the phone and continued drying empty whiskey glasses. No matter how many times he spoke to you, it never failed to make him nervous. He continued wiping down the bar, losing himself in his thoughts about you. He was sure you had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen and the way you crinkled your nose when you laughed just a little too hard, well that just about made him melt on the spot. And you smelled so good, god how did you smell so fucking delicious all the time, that was beyond him. His thoughts lingered before memories of the other night flooded his mind. The way it felt to have your body enveloped in his, the warmth of your skin under his palm, having you squirm in his lap while making those beautiful sounds was enough to make him cum in his pants.
     Clyde could feel himself getting hard in his jeans, quickly reaching down to adjust himself, thinking to himself dammit Clyde ya gotta get yer head on straight before Earl comes back in here n sees you. Quickly he grabbed a crate of decorations and headed to the entrance, a smile playing on his face at the thought of seeing you again tomorrow. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
                                    Readers POV
     Scrambling around your house, you finally figured out your costume for tonight. Putting together a red halter top, red shorts, some fishnet stockings, your favorite heel ankle boots along with some horns for your Devil costume. You grabbed your phone, laid out your outfit on your bed, and snapped a picture to send to Clyde.
Decided on a Devil for tomorrow night, too much?
Yer gonna be wearin that tomorrow? Jesus Darlin, ya tryin to give me a heart attack
Just wanted to make sure you liked it, but I guess I got my answer haha
Can’t wait to see it on ya. I’m gonna have to try to keep ma hands to myself, won’t make any promises though ;)
I hope you don’t :) see you tomorrow, goodnight Clyde
Goodnight beautiful ------------------------------------------------------------
     It seemed like everyone in Boone County was at Duck Tape tonight. As you walked into the bar, your eyes immediately found Clyde’s. He ducked under the side of the bar and walked over to you, cupping your face with both hands and bringing you into a searing kiss. He tasted like bourbon and burnt bacon, your favorite. “Hey baby, you look amazin” he said as he kept his forehead pressed against yours, your noses brushing against each other. You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked up at him.
“Hey, handsome”
          Clyde quickly released you as he saw more patrons making their way inside. He kissed your forehead before stepping away and into the bar. You sat on one end, watching as he moved so flawlessly along the bar, making everyone’s drink, greeting all the regulars, never missing a beat.
          “Well well well ya must be Clyde’s new little lady” startling you, a man sat down next to you.
          “Now Jimmy don’t go scarin the poor girl. Hi sweetie, I’m Mellie, Clyde’s sister and this here’s my idiot brother Jimmy” she reached out her hand to shake yours. Clyde being as busy as he was made his way to your corner of the bar.
          “There he is the man of the hour. When were ya gonna introduce us to yer new girl here?” Jimmy gestured to you with his beer bottle, teasing Clyde. You looked over at Clyde who was giving Jimmy a death stare if there ever was one. Placing your hand over his, you brought his attention back to you.
          “Can I get a drink baby?” you said trying to diffuse the situation. Clyde let out a breath, smiled, and nodded before walking over to where the bottles were sitting to make you your drink. You could hear Mellie and Jimmy giggling behind you, it was going to be a long night.
------------------------------------------------------------
          You spent hours sitting with Mellie and Jimmy, laughing at all of their nonsense, hearing stories about Clyde when they were younger, the Logan siblings making you feel right at home. After all those stories and one too many beers, they decided to call it a night and head out. Even the regulars started to make their way home as the night dwindled. You and Clyde had been making eyes at each other all night, spacing out while Mellie told you her wild stories to look at Clyde. Watching him bartend was getting you more worked up than you cared to admit. Having to adjust yourself in your seat every so often, you could feel your arousal forming. Clyde thanked Earl for the help, and he waved to you as he left. Clyde put the last of the glasses away in the storage closet and made his way back out to you. You were standing facing the bar when you felt Clyde’s hands wrap around your waist.
          “Hey Darlin, you ready to head out?” he whispered in your ear as you turned in his arms and placed your hands on his chest. He looked down at you, eyes scanning your face with a smile.      “Not quite” you said as you cupped his face in your hands and brought your lips to his.
          “Darlin, are ya sure? Now?” you nodded, biting your lower lip, tiptoeing to bring your face closer to his.
          “I want you, Clyde Logan. Right here. Right now.” You whispered to him. That was all the encouragement he needed before his lips were on yours again. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him and you could already feel his erection pressing up against your thigh. He moved to take off your tank top disposing of it on the floor. The kiss grew hungrier as he walked you back towards the bar. Clyde cupped your ass, moving his hands under your thighs to hoist you up onto the bar top.
          Wrapping your legs around his waist, you moved to undo the buttons on his shirt, tearing it open, wanting to feel as much of him as possible. You were glad he decided not to wear an undershirt tonight as you ran your hands all over his sculpted chest down to the waistband of his jeans, working to undo his belt. Clyde placed hot, wet kisses on your neck, working his way to your shoulder. He hooked his thumbs on your shorts, sliding them down along with your fishnets. Reaching your hand around, you unclasped your bra, throwing it to the side while he continued his kisses.
          “Ya looked so fuckin hot tonight. I had to stop looking at ya to stop ma self from getting hard at the bar. Fuck you’re so beautiful” he said in between placing kisses on each breast, pinching one nipple between his fingers while taking his time nipping and biting the other one. His hand made its way down ghosting over your panties, feeling the wet spot that had already formed.
  “Mmm you’re dripping all over my bar baby” you moaned as he removed your underwear. Clyde swiped two fingers along your folds, collecting your slick, teasing you. The sensation making you shiver, your aching clit begging for attention.
     “Ya like that don’t you Darlin? Had ya cumin all over em the other night” you nod, trying your best to hold back your moans.
          “Please Clyde”
          “Tell me what ya need baby girl, ya gotta use yer words” continuing to run his fingers along your cunt, not quite touching where you needed it most.
     “Please Clyde I-I need you” you whimpered as he pushed two thick fingers inside, before pulling them back out.
“Gotta taste ya first baby” he motioned you to lay back, keeping one hand flat on your stomach and throwing your legs over his shoulder before burying his face in between your thighs.
You ran your hands through his hair, guiding him further into your core until you felt his nose press deliciously on your clit. The pressure making you buck your hips towards him. Clyde’s movements started to speed up as he focused on that sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue working, teasing you while keeping his steady rhythm. Making you moan louder than you have before.
“Ya taste so good. So fuckin good baby girl”
          Your grip on his hair tightened when your orgasm crashed over you. Clyde lapped up all of your juices, taking his time until you came down from your high. You felt him pull away and step back to slide his jeans and briefs off in one move. His lips and beard glistening with your slick.
     “I have a condom in ma pocket”
     “Don’t bother. I’m on the pill” he smiled, kicking his pants and briefs to the side.
          His throbbing cock sprang free from the confines of his briefs, the tip slick with pre-cum. The size alone had you drooling at the sight. You immediately felt your cunt clench on nothing from just looking at him as Clyde made his way back to you. Placing your hand on his chest, you stopped him.
          “Lay down on the bar” you whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down Clyde’s spine, all the way to his cock. He looked at you, before climbing on the bar and laying down. You followed and straddled Clyde, your heated cunt grazing over his cock making it twitch. His eyes darkened, full of lust as he watched you coat him in your wetness before sinking on him slowly.
          Clyde’s mechanical hand rested on one of your thighs while his other hand cupped your ass as he watched you take all of him. The feeling of him filling you up, stretching you like never before almost being enough to bring you to your second orgasm of the night. You started to gyrate your hips, finding your rhythm, his cock hitting all sorts of new angles making you both cry out. His hands held on tight to your hips, guiding you as you rode him on the bar.
     “Clyde I’m so close. Fuck, you feel so good” you moaned when you felt him slide his thumb between both of your bodies to rub your throbbing clit.
          “C’mon baby. Gotta cum one more time fer me” he applied more pressure as you picked your pace. Both sensations sending you over the edge as you came hard on Clyde’s cock. Your cunt fluttering and pulsating squeezing him around him, squeezing him so tight. Panting your body fell flush on Clyde’s chest. He placed his hands under your thighs, pushing you slightly forward just enough for him to plant his feet on the bar top before he started pounding into you. The sounds of skin slapping filling the bar as he mercilessly fucked you at an agonizing pace. Clyde couldn’t take his eyes off of you, the way you were writhing in pleasure as your breasts bouncing with every thrust. He plunged into you one last time as far as he could go before reaching his own orgasm and filling you to the brim with his cum. He held you close, panting until he came down from his orgasm.
     Clyde caressed your hair, his chest rising and falling, covered in sweat while you both laid there, bodies satisfied and spent. You put your chin on Clyde’s chest looking up at him, his eyes dazed with pleasure and a goofy grin across his face as he looked back at you.
     “I love you Clyde, and I know it may be too early for that and now might not be the best time. And it’s okay if you don’t feel it too, I just had to say it before it drove me crazy”
     “I love you too Darlin. Have fer a while now, just didn’t want to scare ya off and say it too soon. But I do, I love you” you didn’t think twice before pushing yourself up to kiss him. Leaning your elbows on either side of his head, letting your fingers run through his hair as you kissed him deeply. You wanted to stay in this moment forever.
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yunaffie · 4 years
Text
Second Life
Exchange fic for @trucywright as part of @fyeahghosttrick‘s Ghost Swap fanworks exchange.
Prompt: “free spot for any and all Alma content”
Happy Ghost Swap, dear recipient! Hope it’s to your liking!
Crossposted to AO3 here.
A shrill ring cuts through the cacophony of a babbling toddler and the thumps of her plastic bowl. Snapping her book shut, Alma follows the sound, anticipating her husband on the other end of the phone. A fierce growl emanates from her stomach, spurred on by the aroma of curry. 
"Hey, baby, it's me."
"Cabanela? Let me guess, Jowd's going to be late, right?"
"Well, that's not quite it. You see, things got pretty crazy today and now I'm callin' from the hospital-"
The word 'hospital' rings in Alma's ears, provoking a sharp intake of breath. Curling her fingers around the receiver, she utters a single whisper. "No."
"Whoah, it's okay, baby, it's nothin' serious. Just a leg wound, that's all. I think you should come down here though, not sure he's in any condition to drive."
Alma feels the thrums of her heart beneath her palm. "You had me scared for a moment. I'll be right over." Bundling Kamila onto the car, she takes off, keeping the speed limit in mind as she weaves through traffic. Jowd is putting his life on the line every day as an officer of the law but even knowing that, a little thing like him getting hurt is enough to steal away her breath. Swallowing, she blinks away the sudden onset of tears and focuses solely on reaching her destination. 
"Hey." Cabanela is right there. Alma seeks comfort in his warm chest, holding Kamila to one side. "Gods, what a day this has been." When he steps back, she notices how his usual vibrant energy has faded, leaving him with slumped shoulders and a haggard expression. "And it was all because of me. I'm sorry, baby. I screwed up, and Jowd got hurt."
"Don't be ridiculous." Alma's tone is stern. "Was he shot? Even if he was, that was in no way your fault. He knew what he was getting into when he joined the force."
Cabanela's head sways from side to side. "I'll explain it to you on the way."
Alma absorbs every detail with keen interest: an interrogation gone wrong, the suspect fleeing with gun in hand, Jowd in pursuit, a hostage situation, the meteorite impact out of the blue.
"A meteorite fragment? Are you serious?"
"Sure am. Jowd got to see a meteorite fallin' close up. Must have been an amazin' view. Sure wish I could have seen it."
"So he wasn't shot then."
"Oh, no. Thank the gods for that. I don't think I could live with myself if it was my own gun that hurt him."
"And what of the little girl? What happened to the man?"
"The little girl's fine. Jowd says the criminal peeled himself off a lamppost and threw the girl to safety while his own legs turned to jelly under a fallin' rock. Look, I don't understand it anymore than you do, baby."
"Wow." Alma bounces Kamila around in her arms. "You weren't kidding about things getting crazy."
"Nooope, I sure wasn't." Cabanela opens the door and gestures for her to enter.
Jowd is sitting on the bed, his leg swathed in bandages, with his folded coat beside him. Alma lets out a quiet gasp and Jowd's eyes meet hers. For a long second, husband and wife are caught in each other's stares, neither uttering a word. Alma breaks the spell, his name slipping from her lips as she thrusts Kamila into Cabanela's arms. Flying to Jowd's chest, she sinks into his comforting embrace.
"Alma... oh, gods... you're alive. You're okay."
Alma pulls back with a quizzical frown, finding herself the subject of an intense stare. His eyes are coated with a glistening sheen. "Jowd, are you alright?"
Fluttering his eyelids, Jowd takes in a breath and releases it. "I'm just so happy to see you, that's all."
Doubt radiates from her eyes. Those words had been heavy and loaded with meaning, spoken by a man deep in the throes of his emotions. "I can't believe you got hit by a meteorite." His facial hair is rough and tickly against her palm. "Just what are the chances of that?"
"I wonder. Probably less than being hit by lightning. Not that I ever got the chance to discover what that feels like." Jowd's chuckle rings hollow in her ears. The flash of mirth in his expression goes out like a light. His next words are directed at Cabanela. "Hand me my daughter, would you?"
"Heeere you go, baby."
"Daddy," Kamila burbles, stretching her tiny arms. Jowd holds her aloft under intense scrutiny before taking her into his embrace, bringing his lips to her head.
"Kamila. You're going to be alright now. I won't leave you ever again." 
His words are like a faint breeze flowing past Alma's ears. It might be she wasn't meant to catch them at all. 
Once he's in the foyer of his home, Jowd transforms into a statue, resting on his crutches. Alma peers at his face, mystified by the dazed look in his eyes.
"So I'll just hang this up, shall I?" Cabanela is already placing Jowd's coat on a hook.
"Hm?" Jowd's head twists toward his voice. "Oh. Yes, that's right. Cabanela, check my coat pockets, would you?"
"Sure. Huh?" Cabanela holds aloft a bundle of black fur. "What's thiiis?"
"Meet the newest member of our family. His name is Sissel."
A rush of protests flow forth from Alma's lips at the unexpected news. How could Jowd not tell them to buy the necessities for a cat on the way home, she asks. Jowd's response is not to worry about it but Alma isn't convinced. At the very least, she has to put out a bowl of water and a plate of leftover chicken, as well as some newspaper in a cardboard box. How can Jowd expect a kitten to go without food, water, or somewhere to do his business for an entire night?
They sit down to dinner, hearing Kamila's excited cries from the next room as she gets to know their newest family member.
Jowd lifts the spoon to his mouth, blowing on the curry before taking his first mouthful. "Ahh. This curry. It's just as I remember."
Eyes meet across the table, flashes of concern striking in midair. It was only a week ago that curry was last eaten in this house. Jowd brings one spoonful after another to his mouth with gusto.
"Calm down." A small laugh bubbles through Alma's lips. "You'll choke if you keep eating that fast."
Jowd takes a sip of water. "It's just so good." Capturing Alma and Cabanela in his intense stare, he continues. "I'm so glad. Being at home with my family, seeing you all happy, it's such a wonderful thing. I'm so thankful to have you all in my life."
"Jowd." Alma's hand covers his.  "Are you okay?"
"I nearly killed a man with my own hands and then got struck by a meteorite. On the plus side, I adopted a kitten so I guess it wasn't that bad a day." Jowd lifts his shoulders, his lips curving in a smile that fails to reach his eyes. "It could have been a lot worse."
Alma draws back her hand, lines furrowing her brow. 
When the time comes for Cabanela to return to his home, Alma follows him outside.
"Somethin' sure is straaange about Jowd, huh?" Cabanela rests a hand on his hip. "I don't know what's going on, but he does seem a bit off."
"I don't understand." Alma pinches her lower lip between her teeth. "That way he looked at me in the hospital and what he said. Did you see how he kind of froze up when we got home? Then the stuff with the curry. I think something happened in that park and it changed him."
"His near death experience might have sooomething to do with it. Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll tell us eventually. If not, we're just gonna have to coax it out of him, baby. No way we'll just let him suffer in silence."
"You're right. We're here for him." Rubbing her arms, Alma adds, "Tonight could have been so different."
"Well, fortunately, it wasn't." Cabanela grips his forehead. "Gods, I still can't believe I messed up like that."
"You made a mistake. It happens." Alma's words are like a gentle tide striving to wash away his guilt. "Don't beat yourself up over it too much, okay? Just learn from your mistakes and move on. That's all you can do."
"Right. I'll do my best to make up for it. Goodnight, Alma." Cabanela plants a kiss on her cheek before whisking away in a flurry of white fabric. 
Retreating inside, Alma discovers Kamila nodding off as she nestles in her father's arms. Sissel perches behind Jowd, looking over his shoulder as if taking an interest in this spectacle himself.
"I'll take her to bed." Alma extracts their sleepy toddler. After sending Kamila into slumber, she comes to Jowd's side. "So. Anything you would like to do tonight?"
Jowd tilts his head while several seconds tick by. "Music. Put on one of your favourite artists."
"Alright, music it is." 
As the music flows, Alma nestles against Jowd's warm bulk. His broad and gentle arm encircles her, filling her with overflowing love and comfort. Closing her eyes, she commits herself to the flowing melody. A splash of moisture against her skin draws her attention to Jowd. Two glistening trails are streaking down his cheeks.
"It's okay, sweetie." Alma presses her hand to his damp skin. Jowd's searching gaze ensnares her, pulling her into its twin wells of sadness. "I'm here, you know."
"You're really here. Alma." Jowd's words land heavily, laden by the weight of his emotions. 
"Mmm." Eyes lingering on her husband's visage, Alma traces the sharp contours of his well defined cheeks with her fingertips. In the corner of her eye, she catches the twitch of a tail and extends her hand. Sissel's dark fur is soft to the touch. Scratching the base of his ears, she offers him an invitation.
With a meow, Sissel stretches his legs, light rippling over his taut form before he hops gracefully into Alma's lap. As she strokes him, the vibration emanating from his body grows even louder.
"What a sweet little kitten. So, what made you decide to name him Sissel?"
"Hm. I suppose it just popped into my head."
"You know Sissel is usually a girl's name, right?"
"I don't think he really cares."
"Fair enough." The kitten has taken to lying across her lap. Alma's stroking continues, a purely mechanical motion kept up even as she drifts into her thoughts. So many things are off. Someday Jowd will surely tell her and she'll wait until then.
Silence falls over them with the music's end, a cue for them to turn in. Before the light goes off, Jowd takes Alma in his arms, "Goodnight, Alma." His warm breath caresses her face as he brushes his lips over hers. "I love you."
"I love you too," Alma says, with another kiss. "Goodnight."
During the days that pass by, Alma watches. She notices all the little things. Stares pinning her a beat too long. Eyes hazing as he drifts away on the tide of thoughts. Recollections beyond his grasp, as though no longer fresh but tainted by time that shouldn't exist. Her name passes his lips more often as do his declarations of love. His slightly cynical side seems to have amplified over time. The retorts he let loose are often darkly humorous in nature. Alma and Cabanela have many tales to share of Jowd's bizarre words and actions. 
Alma is frequently roused from slumber by Jowd's fitful mutters or the bed rocking in tune with his tosses and turns. Her name is spoken many times, infused with pain. She pulls him out of the nightmares and he clutches her like she's his salvation in the midst of a storm, soothed by her reassuring words. 
A painting has taken the place of the antique gun that was on display. Jowd's explanation is short and simple. He fancied a change. Nothing is said about what prompted him to make the change in the first place.
The sight of Kamila dangling Sissel and twirling one day provokes a gasp of horror from Alma, who immediately retrieves the kitten, issuing gentle admonishments. Sissel seems fine in spite of it all, not having made a peep as one would expect of a kitten at the mercy of a small child. It occurs to Alma that he has never scratched anyone. The house remains clear of his fur. His litter box is perpetually clean. Even his food and water bowls are never touched. 
There are times Alma will catch sight of Jowd and Sissel lost in each other's stares. Once, as they remained oblivious to her presence, she saw for herself how her husband's face changed or how Sissel would twitch various body parts. If she didn't know any better, she would swear they were having a conversation.
The mystery only deepens with the awareness that Sissel isn't growing over the months he has been with them. 
A year has elapsed since the park incident. Jowd has a grave look on his face as he announces that he has something important to tell Alma and Cabanela. Once Kamila is asleep, the three gather round the table. Sissel watches from the sill.
"So." Jowd puts his hands together. "Where should I begin?"
"The day in the park, right?" Cabanela's expression is grim. "Ever since that day, sooomething's been off about you, baby. Alma and I have been worried about you all this time."
"I know." Jowd's breath billows forth in a heavy gust. "I never had any intention of hiding this from you forever. Sissel wouldn't have allowed it either."
"Huh?" Alma shoots a glance at the kitten. "Wait, so you really have been talking to the cat?"
"It might be easier if I just get this out of the way first. Sissel, perform a trick, would you?"
Sissel collapses like a puppet with its strings cut. The soft hum of the overhead fan picks up, its guttural whine filling the room as it rotates faster, stirring the air and turning it into a strong breeze that wafts over them, ruffling their hair and clothes. 
"Ye gods."
"H-how..." Alma brings trembling fingers to her mouth. 
"That's Sissel's power. A ghost trick, a power of the dead."
It suddenly makes sense. The random noises heard around the house. Objects moved or transformed without explanation. It was the work of this supposedly dead kitten.
"But, but..." Alma struggles to call the words forth. "When? How did he die?"
"The meteorite. The fragment that pierced my leg is inside Sissel's body."
"But this makes no sense! How can he move around and stuff? Why isn't he, like, rottin'?"
"That's the meteorite's power. His body is immortal. Nothing can damage him. I could put him in the microwave for five minutes and he would come out of it completely fine."
Alma kneads her forehead. In the span of five minutes, she's learned the cat is dead and her husband has joked about microwaving him. She is tempted by the siren call of another glass of wine but quickly dismisses it. This is too important a conversation to be lost to the blurring effects of alcohol on the memory.
"That meteorite grants powers of the dead, even to those who merely die within its radiation. And now that you know all about it, it's time to tell you the story of an alternate version of events that went down in the park."
The man Jowd faced in the park was killed by the meteorite, a fact that drains all the colour from Cabanela's face. Sharp, spiky pain pierces Alma's chest, brought forth by the knowledge that Jowd blamed himself. How must it have felt, being consumed by that guilt?
It gets worse. Four years into the future, on Alma's birthday, Kamila made a surprise contraption and it was instrumental in her mother's death. Or rather, her murder, carried out by that man with the powers of the dead. Jowd is still speaking, his words growing increasingly tinny and distant. Alma cradles her head in her hands, her ears filling with a dull roar.
She was murdered by a man she had never met, his actions spurred by the desire to make Jowd feel pain. Heat and cold twist together in a fierce maelstrom, churning inside of her trembling body.
"Why?" Her voice quivers like a leaf caught in the wind. A veil of moisture sweeps over her eyes, transforming everything into a blur. "Why me? I didn't do anything. Why did I have to die? Jowd didn't mean to... he didn't put that man in the meteorite's path on purpose!"
"How could he?" Cabanela's words lash out, sharp as a whip. The table judders from the impact of his fist. "Taking Alma's life like that, making it look like that poor little girl's fault!"
"Alma, are you alright?" The weight of Jowd's hand settles upon her shoulder. "Should we stop here?"
"No." Alma dashes the back of her hand across her eyes. "Keep going. I'm okay." It's a lie, constructed for the sake of keeping this conversation going. No way will she put this off after waiting so long.
Jowd's next revelation hits like a punch to the gut. Claiming credit for Alma's murder, Jowd turned his back on their daughter, leaving her to someone else's care. By this point, Alma is completely numb. Jowd's agony radiates from every crevice of his face, simmering away in the hollow pools of his eyes. She sees all those moments she found Jowd standing over Kamila's crib in a whole new light.
Five years later, Jowd was to be executed. A saviour came to his cell; a ghost with the man's face in search of his lost memory. Said ghost would go on to become their beloved family pet. Alma watches Cabanela's face change as he hears detail after detail, ending in a look of relief over the revelation he was working to save Jowd all along. 
"But of course I was, baby. I would never, ever doubt you. Still, five years and me not even visitin' you once? What's up with that?"
"I'm so glad. You had people who believed in you, fighting for your sake." Tears spill forth, coursing down Alma's cheeks. "Thank goodness."
"Yes. No matter how much I insisted, they refused to listen, and I'm so very grateful. Thank you, Cabanela."
"No need to thank me, baby. You're one of my best friends in the whooole world and I would never give up on you."
"So, what happened next? What happened to Kamila?"
Jowd launches into the next part of the tale, detailing how his and Lynne's pursuit of the manipulator went horribly wrong. Alma covers her mouth, horror constricting her chest in its tightening band. Kamila sinking into oblivion within the freezing confines of a destroyed submarine. Jowd gunned down, also lost to the depths of the sea. Even with the odds against them all, they found the ray of hope in the darkness and it was down that path of light that they found salvation in the form of a whole new ten years.
"And so, here we are." Jowd's shoulders sag. "Any questions?"
"Gods." Cabanela rubs his forehead. "I don't even know where to begin."
Alma drags her gaze to the clock, observing the time. On cue, her mouth opens in a yawn. Despite the tiredness weighing her down, she doubts she'll sleep tonight. Bringing her eyes back to Jowd, a fresh pang pierces her chest. For a whole year, he held in all this pain, all these secrets. Embracing him from behind, she buries her face in the crook of his neck. "Oh, Jowd."
Cabanela comes to her side, joining her in embracing Jowd. "I'm glaaad you finally told us, baby. You did the right thing." 
Countless minutes tick by while they hold on, lingering in each other's presence. When they break away, Alma turns to the kitten and pulls him to her chest. "Thank you, Sissel. You saved us all. Thank you so much." Her gratitude is acknowledged with a mew.
The lateness of the night draws them all to bed. Jowd and Alma lie beneath the sheets under the cover of darkness, silence hanging over them like a heavy weight.
"You shouldn't have left her."
"I know."
"You should have been there for her. She needed you."
"I'll never abandon her ever again, I promise you."
"I believe you." Alma's chest rises sharply and falls, her breath rushing out in a great sigh. "To think I was just murdered, out of the blue, leaving you two well before my time, it's so awful. How could he do that? I know, you told me everything, and I do feel sorry for him, but I can't just ignore what he did."
"I understand."
"Gods. I wondered what you were hiding for so long, but I never imagined it would be anything like this. I don't know how you managed to keep quiet for a whole year."
"Having a therapy cat helped."
"Right, you had Sissel to talk to." Alma scoots closer, draping her arm over his chest. "Well, now we all know, so that's a load off our minds, isn't it?"
"Yes. It's a relief really, having it all out in the open at last." Jowd kisses the top of Alma's head. "I'm so lucky to have all this back. When you died, I just fell to pieces. I missed you so much. Sometimes I still can't quite believe it. I'll wake up in the morning and see you lying next to me and I just feel so incredibly relieved."
"Oh, Jowd." Alma seeks out his face, stroking her fingers along his stubbled cheek. A deep ache wells in her chest. It's okay, she assures herself, she won't die. Nobody is going to suffer from her loss. Their happy family life will continue beyond four years from now.
Dipping in and out of sleep, Alma emerges from a gruelling nightmare involving her being six feet under. Seeking out the clock display, she learns that it's five in the morning. 
"Forget it." Throwing on a bathrobe, Alma slouches downstairs.
Cabanela sits at the table. Little white wisps rise from the mug in front of him. "Hey, baby. Sleep well?"
"What do you think?" Alma peers at him through lowered lids, speaking in a voice as thick as syrup. 
"Yeah. That's what I thought." Cabanela stretches his arms over his head. "Didn't sleeeep so hot either. I just couldn't stop thinkin' about it. Anyhoot, I just boiled the kettle, so help yourself."
"Thanks." Alma pours herself coffee and joins Cabanela. The warmth of the mug seeps into her hands. Gazing deep into the murky brown depths within, she speaks.  "It's all so crazy, isn't it? To think all this stuff happened in another timeline. A different ten years. And I was dead for five of them."
A breath, heavy as lead, slips past Cabanela's lips, while he shakes his head. "I can't imagine how it must have felt. Your dying and Jowd's imprisonment. You two are the most important people in my life and I can't bear the thought of you both not being there anymore."
Alma takes small sips of the coffee. The searing liquid is as bitter as her thoughts. How could a man murder her on her birthday and leave her child motherless, with a lifetime of guilt in her place? Bile gushes up from her churning stomach, filling her throat. No use dwelling, she tells herself, best to put it out of her mind. "At least I got my life back." Meeting Cabanela's gaze, she offers him a weak smile. "I should be thankful for that. I've got a second chance."
"That's riiight, baby." Cabanela responds with a smile of his own. "So let's stay positive, shall we? Maybe we should think of something nice to do today, take our mind off things. Just get out there and enjoy life."
With another long sip, Alma dwells in silent contemplation. "Yes. I should think of it as an opportunity to do all the things I wanted to do. Better be realistic though, I don't think we could afford a luxury cruise to Hawaii."
"Probably not, but we can find other things to do. Maybe we can teach Jowd to dance."
"I said realistic."
Their exchanged laugh is accompanied by the heavy falls of Jowd's feet. "Hm? Did someone mention my name just now?"
"Hey, baby. So nice of you to join us. Ahh, the early hours of the morning, nooothin' like it."
"Definitely something easier to appreciate once you've had a cup of coffee," Jowd mutters, making his way into the kitchen. Brandishing his own mug, he joins them at the table. "Well, what a night that was, eh?"
"Thank you for finally telling us," says Alma. "We were so worried."
"I know." Jowd's smile does little to banish the sadness hanging over him. "Sorry for troubling you so much. It does feel better to finally have it out in the open."
"From now on, just tell us whatever you're feelin', baby. We're always here for you, you know that."
"Yes. I appreciate you both being so patient and understanding."
"Now, why don't we have a good looong chat about all the things we're going to do with our new lives?"
Their conversation continues through the long hours ahead, interrupted only by trips for more coffee. The presence of a fourth person approaches, signalled by the patter of tiny feet. Kamila rubs her eyes as she stumbles forwards, followed by a little black kitten. 
"Good morning, sweetheart," says Jowd. "How are you this morning?"
"I want juice. And I'm hungry."
Alma's swallows do little to banish the lump filling her throat. Emotion flows over her in a crashing wave, spurring her to lunge for her daughter and clasp that tiny body to her bosom in a fierce yet gentle embrace.
"Kamila. Oh, Kamila!" Alma's weeping voice gushes forth, flowing with relief. "Oh, my sweet little girl."
Kamila's tiny arms loop around Alma's neck. Hearing loud sniffles, her eyes fill with concern. "Are you crying, Mommy?"
"Huh?" Alma brings her fingers to her cheeks, finding drops of moisture clinging to her skin. 
"Why are you crying?"
"I'm just happy to see you." Alma rubs a thumb over one of Kamila's round, soft cheeks. "I love you so very much, Kamila, you know that, don't you?"
"Mmhmm." Kamila's head bobs, a smile spreading over her beaming face. "And I love you too."
Alma wipes her eyes, momentarily lost in the radiance of her daughter's innocent smile. Keeping her voice steady, she poses a question. "Juice and something to eat, then?"
"Yeah." 
"Here, why don't you come and sit in Daddy's lap?" Jowd pats his leg and Kamila scampers over. Alma's gaze lingers over them, renewed emotion blossoming in her chest, while she goes to fulfil Kamila's request. As she gets the juice and food, a  smile comes to her face, conjured by the thought of how they will live as happily as they can in the future granted to them by a miracle. 
Telling the truth has only partially erased Jowd's troubles. At least Alma and Cabanela now share his burden, ready to lend an ear even as they deal with the issues the truth has brought to them.
Two years have gone by since the reveal. Alma stands outside the prison building, trepidation churning within her. Jowd has been here to see that man several times. The two of them share a deep understanding, having been through so much. Alma knows the man isn't bad anymore and she wouldn't dream of judging Jowd for staying in touch
Sometimes she wonders, does she dare see him? Why hesitate, there's nothing to be afraid of, but no, it's too soon, She isn't ready.
A woman flies out of the building with her head bowed. Alma stumbles back, knocked off balance by the resulting collision. The woman's purse falls to the ground, scattering its contents over the sidewalk. 
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry." Alma kneels, assisting the woman in gathering everything up. "I didn't see you."
"No, it's alright, I'm the one who should be sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going." The woman punctuates her sentence with an awkward laugh.
Alma's gaze is drawn to a bundle of scattered cards as she collects them into a neat pile. "Sissel?"
"Hm? Oh, my business cards." The woman takes them from Alma's outstretched hand.
It's no coincidence. This is her, the love of that man's life, the catalyst who drove him to cause Jowd the same pain.
"Thank you." During Alma's momentary daze, Sissel has got everything together and now she stands. "I really am so sorry about that. What a klutz I am."
"Please don't worry about it." Alma rises. "So, er, what is it you do?"
"I play the piano and sometimes I even sing. I get gigs here and there. Haven't managed to make it big just yet, but who knows, maybe one day."
"Well, good luck with that."
"Thanks." Sissel's gaze lingers on her briefly, diverted by a twist of her head toward the prison. "Are you visiting someone?"
"Oh. Oh no, I was just... er... I suppose I was just standing here lost in my thoughts."
"Oh?" Sissel tilts her head, a corner of her lip curving upward. "I see. So, was there something interesting about my name? You sounded pretty surprised."
"I've..." Alma pauses. "I've heard the name before." Meeting this woman came like a bolt out of the blue and now she has no idea what to do next. Go on her merry way or satisfy her curiosity? Settling on the latter, she speaks again. "Um, I hope you don't think this is a strange request, but would you like to talk some more? There's a cafe just down the street we could go to."
"I suppose it's better than standing around in the street waiting for more people to come bumping into us." Sissel laughs. "Sure, why not, it's not like I have anything else to do right now."
Finding an empty table at the café, they promptly order two cups of coffee. Sissel rests her chin in one hand. "Right, you know my name and job, so I suppose it's time I learned yours."
"I'm Alma. It's nice to meet you."
Sissel shakes the offered hand. "Nice to meet you too."
"As for what I do, I work in a library. The one at the courthouse."
"Ooh, I see. A courthouse, then? Are you interested in law?"
"I've read quite a few books and studied it a bit. Law, criminal psychology, that sort of thing. Actually, my husband is a detective"
"Huh." Sissel lowers her gaze.
"Is something the matter?"
"Oh, no, it's just..." Sitting back, Sissel folds her arms. "I'm sure you must be wondering who I was visiting and why they were in prison."
Alma keeps her expression neutral. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"No, it's alright." Sissel's eyes wander over the centre of the table where a meny sits. When they snap back to focus on Alma's, a sudden intensity burns within. "He's not a bad man."
Not now, no. Alma finds herself mentally replaying the excruciating details gleaned from Jowd as she has done so many times before. 
"He's really good at computers. They had him on a huge project, but then the police thought he might be a spy. He was brought in for interrogation. Then this fool detective-" Sissel's words are broken off by the arrival of their coffee. She takes a sip before continuing. "He pushed him so hard, even though he was innocent, made him lose hope, and then even worse, that fool left his gun in the room. Can you believe it?"
"It was careless." Alma rests the rim of her mug against her lips, inhaling the aroma before taking a sip. "And then your loved one escaped. Another detective chased him down to a park where he took a child hostage."
"Oh, you've read about the case."
"Not quite." Alma's mouth twists. "That man who left his gun? My friend. The second man? My husband." Pinned to the spot by Sissel's stare, she tunes in to the hustle and bustle surrounding them. After a minute or so, the awkward feeling prompts her to speak again. "If you want to tell me exactly what you think of them or me and leave, I understand."
"Huh. What a coincidence."
Not quite, but 'I'm considering meeting your fiancé, who murdered me in another timeline' isn't going to go down terribly well, so Alma keeps her mouth shut on that particular subject. "They both went too far, and they really do feel a lot of remorse."
"I know, they were only doing their jobs. Yomiel's not holding it against them. Anyway, they spoke in his favour during the trial and I think that got him a lesser sentence, so I should be grateful, really." Her eyes flare with a deep sadness as she smiles. "Just a shame things turned out the way they did."
Alma's throat bobs.
Sissel brings the mug to her lips, taking another sip before setting it down with a dull thud. "All I can do is accept it. Yomiel wouldn't want me to be blaming anyone. At least he's alive, and he'll be out eventually."
"You must love him very much."
"Oh, yes, I do." Sissel's face transforms, lighting up with a radiant glow. "Yomiel is everything to me. He's so sweet, so thoughtful and caring. That day, he was so out of it, desperate, panicking. They made him think his life was over."
"I know."
"I just don't want anyone having the wrong idea about him. I visit him every day. It's hard, but I'm doing my best. Things could have turned out so much worse."
"I'm really sorry."
"It's not your fault." Leaning forward, Sissel rests her chin in her hands. "So, anything to tell me about yourself? I know you're married to a detective. Anything else?"
"Hm, well, we have a young daughter, and a cat." Realizing her error too late, Alma sends a prayer to the heavens, pleading for Sissel to not inquire about the cat's name. 
"Oh, you have a little girl? How lovely. What's she like?"
Alma stops herself from expressing her relief just in time. "Kamila is so precious. She's quiet as a mouse and she just loves making things, all these toys and contraptions. I never know what she's going to make next."
"She really sounds like a delight. How about your husband, what's he like?"
"Well, he's a wonderful man, though his sense of humour is a little twisted and his personality can rub people the wrong way. Jowd and Cabanela make such a pair together. Ah, Cabanela's the other guy. He's like a part of our family too."
"The ruthless interrogator?"
"He was trying too hard." Alma shakes her head. "He had just gotten admitted to the Special Investigation Unit and thought he would try to impress them."
"By interrogating an innocent man?" Sissel's lip curls as she lets out a derisive snort. "Ah, sorry, I-"
"Oh, no, no, be as honest as you like. Still, I wouldn't call him ruthless. I don't know what image you have of him, but if you saw the real Cabanela, that image would be quickly shattered. He's really unique, in a sense. He's easygoing, laid back, always dancing."
"Dancing?" One of Sissel's slender eyebrows shoots upwards.
"You have to see it to believe it. I hope it doesn't seem like I'm trying to defend them. I just want you to know they aren't necessarily the ruthless men you might think they are."
Sissel flashes a reassuring smile at her. "Really, it's okay. I get it." Draining the last of her coffee, she sets down the mug and stares into it, a cloud passing over her eyes. "I'm glad. It doesn't seem like you're judging my fiancé."
"No, I'm really not."
"Some of our friends didn't want anything to do with him anymore, or me when I defended him. They didn't even try to understand why he took that child hostage. There must have been so many people judging him and thinking he was a terrible person when it was in the news."
"I'm so sorry to hear it."
"Oh, well. I guess I learned who my real friends were at least."
"You have people you can still talk to, don't you? I'm sure it must be hard."
"I have some friends left. Anyway, it's enough that Yomiel is alive. I hate having to say goodbye but I know he'll be out one day. He was so badly injured back then." Sissel shudders. "I could have lost him. I don't know what I would do without him."
Alma averts her gaze, pushing back the lump in her throat. "Well, that's good that you have some support then." Checking the time on her watch, she adds. "Is that the time already?"
"I guess you should be going then? I'd better get off too, get some shopping done on my way home."
Outside the cafe, Sissel takes a card from her purse and holds it out to Alma. "Here you go. If you want to talk or meet up again, here's my number."
"Really? I almost thought you might not be interested."
"Well, I don't see any reason not to." Sissel tilts her head. "I almost feel like us meeting might not have been a total coincidence."
"Hmm. You know what, I don't think it was either."
"It was very nice to meet you. Well, then, hope to see you another time." Sissel walks away with a wave. Alma watches her blend into the distant crowd with a smile, slipping the card into her own purse.
At a later date, Alma gets in touch with Sissel. Their next meeting is at a restaurant where Sissel is performing. Alma is impressed by how well she can play the piano and sing. Their meetings continue well beyond that and they talk about all sorts of things, the subject of their loved ones in particular.
Five years past the meteorite's fall, Alma's birthday rolls around. Jowd announces that he's made plans for dinner, and even bought crafts to keep Kamila occupied. "If we can try and get off work early, that would be good too. Sissel's going to be around, so Kamila won't be lonely either. I want this day to be different."
"I understand." Alma doesn't feel ready to see the contraption in action either. They go to work as usual and come home with Cabanela, discovering Kamila deeply absorbed in craftwork under Sissel's watchful gaze. The evening is spent dining at Alma's favourite restaurant and they all have a wonderful time. When it's all over, Jowd and Alma fall asleep in their bed, snug in each other's embraces.
The years fly by. Alma enjoys her life with considerable vigor as does Cabanela. They remain conscious of how precious their time is, never forgetting for a single moment. Alma continues meeting Sissel and even makes a new friend in the Justice Minister's wife, who she introduces to Sissel. It doesn't take long before Emma is inspired to write a romance novel involving a jailbird. Seeing how well they get along, Alma is glad to have brought another person into Sissel's life. It's hard for Sissel, being separated from her loved one by prison walls, and Alma will do whatever she can to ease Sissel's pain, even if it's just a little bit.
Alma's birthday comes round, ten years after that fateful day. Coming home from work, Alma is the first to go inside. Greeted with a dark room, she reaches for the light switch only to freeze. Kamila has finally brought the contraption into existence, hasn't she? Alma wouldn't dream of spoiling her daughter's birthday surprise. Time to see it in action. 
"Here we go." Steeling herself, Alma flips the switch and light floods the room. The contraption plays out before her eyes. Cupid's arrow takes flight, its fiery tip striking the party poppers. Loud pops fill the air as streamers fly. She covers her mouth. Jowd's stories couldn't have prepared her for this. It's incredible what Kamila was capable of even five years ago.
Kamila bursts out of the cupboard and runs over to Alma with the kitten in hot pursuit. "Did I surprise you, Mom?"
"Oh. Oh, yes, wow. You really made that yourself?"
"Of course!" Kamila beams, throwing her arms around Alma's waist. "Happy birthday, Mom."
Embracing her daughter, Alma strokes her hair. "Thank you, Kamila. That was a lovely surprise." Behind her, the door opens. Jowd's puzzled expression quickly fades, a knowing smile taking its place.
Some time later, Alma gets a call from Sissel. Joining her husband on the sofa, she clears her throat. "Sissel's fiancé, er, Yomiel is out of prison."
"Yes, he was released a couple of days ago."
"I see." Alma's head tilts.
"Is there something on your mind?"
"I used to go to the prison and think about seeing him myself. Then I met Sissel and she told me all about him instead. If I keep seeing her, I might bump into him at some point."
"Hmm. Yes, I suppose that's a possibility. Is it a problem?"
"The thing is, if I meet him for the first time, I want it to be with you, Jowd. I think I'm ready."
"Alright, I'll arrange something."
The next day, Jowd and Alma head to a bar that evening. They quickly spot Yomiel sitting alone in the far corner. It was decided that bringing his fiancée was too risky.
"Hello, Yomiel."
Yomiel stands up, responding with a curt nod. "Hello, Detective. It's good to see you."
"Yes, it's good to see you too. How's life treating you out of prison?"
"It's not easy, but I've got help." Yomiel turns his head slightly. "And you are..."
"Ah, yes, I do believe you already know my wife, don't you?"
"Uh..."
Ever since they came up to him, Alma has been lost in a trance, her thoughts tumbling around in a frantic whirlwind. Thick mud clogs her throat. Swallowing, she wipes her palms over her skirt before thrusting out a hand. "I'm Alma. It's nice to meet you."
Her words cut like a blade through the tension holding Yomiel in place. Shaking her hand, he responds, "Nice to meet you too. I'm Yomiel."
"So, I finally got to meet the man himself," Alma says, as they sit down. Her repeated swallows do little to moisten her mouth. It's really him, that man who took her life and hurt her family, but he isn't that man anymore. That twisted creature who sought to hurt and even kill others is long gone. "I've heard a lot about you from Jowd, and Sissel. I mean, your fiancée. Not the cat."
"I see."
"Well, I suppose I should get drinks for us. Is that okay with you, Alma?" 
Seeing a hint of concern in Jowd's eyes, Alma responds with a smile. "Of course it is. A glass of white wine for me, please. Would you mind giving us a few minutes to speak alone?"
"Sure." Jowd's hand lingers on her shoulder before he walks away.
"You know everything, don't you." A statement, not a question.
"I do. Jowd told me about all of it. I know what you went through."
"Right." Yomiel clears his throat. "I really am so sorry for what I did to you and to everybody else. What I did was completely inexcusable."
Alma studies her interlaced fingers as they lay in her lap. "I know you're not that person anymore. What you went through was hell, wasn't it?"
"Yes. I was consumed by loneliness, by the desire for revenge. It transformed me. I could no longer see people for who they were. You and your little girl? Just tools for causing Jowd pain." Yomiel releases his breath in a soft whoosh. "I don't expect you to forgive me. If you want to tell me you hate me, well, I know I deserve it."
The laughter and animated chatter coming from the other tables provide such a sharp contrast to their serious conversation. While Alma's gaze roams over the other customers, she speaks. "I might have despised you for a while. The truth made me sick. I was hurt and angry, I tried to understand why you would have done it, and then I met your fiancée."
"You've been a good friend to Sissel. I was surprised to hear she had become friends with you."
Alma turns her full attention back to Yomiel. "I didn't seek her out on purpose. We bumped into each other outside the prison and I learned her name. I wanted to get to know her, maybe even hear more about you. I wasn't using her or anything. She's a fantastic woman and I can see why you love her so much."
"Yes, I really do."
"You're lucky to have each other. I hope you'll have a happy future together."
"Thank you."
"Anyway." Alma rests her chin in one hand. "I wanted to meet you in person. I think... I wanted to dispel that image of a murderous monster. To see you for the person you are now."
Yomiel's cheek twitches, his gaze remaining level with hers.
"I know you're not that monster anymore and you will never hurt my family again. I don't bear a grudge against you and I don't hate you either."
"I see." Yomiel bows his head, the words oozing from his lips like thick syrup. "You really are a very kind woman."
Amidst the conversation's lull, the rowdy noises filling the pub become painstakingly clear. "Well then, might as well get Jowd back over here." Alma seeks out Jowd, signalling to him with a wave.
Jowd joins them, setting down the drinks. "Well then, how did it go?"
"We had a pleasant conversation. I told him I have no hard feelings."
"That's good to hear. You were a bit nervous, weren't you, Yomiel?"
"Yes." Yomiel's head moves in an almost imperceptible nod. "I'm not sure I deserve so much kindness." Shifting his gaze to Alma, he continues. "I'm so grateful that you were there for Sissel also. My imprisonment was hard on her but now it's all over and we can look forward to our future together." 
"Well then." Jowd raises his glass. "Here's to us all not being dead or in prison."
With a roll of her eyes, Alma lifts her glass as does Yomiel, their glasses meeting in midair with a soft clink. They engage in conversation, the words falling from their lips ever so casually. Any resulting moments of discomfort are entirely on Jowd. Before they realise it, the glasses are empty and it's time to go. Bidding farewell, they set off back to their respective homes.
"Well, how did that feel?" Jowd asks on the way home.
"It was alright." Alma is relaxed, her body filling the contours of the car seat. "I was so nervous about meeting him but in the end, it all went fine. I can finally let go of all those feelings. It's like a huge weight off my mind."
"Is that so? I'm glad. The ten years are all behind us at last."
"Yeah."
Pulling the car into the driveway of their home, Jowd cuts the engine. Alma leaves the car and goes round to meet Jowd. Snaking her arms around his waist, she sinks against his chest, clasped in his strong embrace.
"I really do love you so much." Alma turns her head up.
Jowd kisses her on the lips. "And I love you too."
As they approach their front door, it swings open, revealing their smiling daughter. Sissel weaves around her legs, mewing. "Welcome back, Mom, Dad." With those words, Kamila steps aside, allowing them to enter together.
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deadmansgun · 4 years
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Itsuki’s Day Out ||Drabble for a friend||
Everyone has bad days, I’ve def had plenty in my time like we’ve all had. 
I noticed my friend @yukikorogashi​ is having a bad day, despite our talks a few times in the tags and the few messages in between, I don’t feel I’m close enough to talk about issues and such yet. But I wanted to write this little drabble for ya in hopes of bringing some kind of positive outlet in your day/evening. I’m also tagging @matteredloyalty​ bc his Arthur is in this :3
I’m not sure when you’ll see this depending on tumblr but;
Beckowsky. I know we haven’t really spoke ooc much, but I hope you enjoy this piece of writing and it brings some kind of shine to your day/night.
PS: Please don’t mind my take on Arthur and Itsuki for this lil drabble, I def can’t be as on point as you two with your muses~ Its a quite long, but only bc I tried to make it as adorable and precious as possible. 
Please enjoy and I hope you have a better day tomorrow bc you deserve it!
It had been a typical day like any other. It was about the second week since they had moved here to Clemens Point, a truly beautiful location for camp that everyone seemed to enjoy very much. It was nice that a good spot for camp would make a big difference in the morale of everyone. Despite positive moodlet, there was still this stinging tension he could feel from Abigail, her glare burning an imprint on his mind. 
He didn't feel like an agruement right now, he wanted to keep the peace, and a verbal disagreement with Abigail would defiitely disturb it. Whenever John was like this, everyone left him alone, but Itsuki never let his mood ruin her from coming to see him, and he didn't ever take his anger out on her or anyone within camp, he tried not to anyway. As he sat there thinking about things, arms would hug him from behind making him look up
. "I found you John broooo~" 
She playfully speaks, her cheery personality bringing a small smile to his face.
"Lil Itty! how's it goin' sweetie." 
"Y’should come with me and Arthur bro, we're going out fer today." She suggests, full of energy like she always was.
"Ya don't need me t'come along t'have fun. You two can go ahead." His answer generates a small pout on her face, she could tell something was on John's mind. With a nod, Itsuki had made up her mind, she would bring John along no matter what, she knew that a day away from camp would help him.
"But ah want you to come too! An ah'm gonna make ya come along." Itsuki would then grab John's right hand with two of her hands and began to attempt to pull him up to his feet.
"Hey what're you doin'?" He asks with a light chuckle  She would continue to try pulling John up, and surprisingly, he would feel her manage to pull him up off the chair a little bit.
"Okay alright, I'm comin' I'm comin'." He says with a chuckle. he gently takes back his hand and holds them up playfully in defeat while Itsuki's eyes seemed to light up at his answer. Not long after, the sound of boots walking towards them as Arthur approached the two.
"There ya are Itsuki." Greeting her with a smile before he looks over at John, his smile fading. "Arthur bro! John bro is comin' with us!" She chimed, a bit more cheery with John's agreement on joining them.
Arthur looks at Itsuki then back to John. "We're just havin' a day out, not huntin' wolves." 
He says, looking directly at John as he said that, John just scoffing lightly, he expected some kind of comment from Arthur, their relationship was still a bit strained due to last year, but John had learned to ignore any insults that came his way.
"Huntin' wolves." He repeated. "Real funny Arthur."
"Ahhhhh I'm just jokin' relax." He says with dismissive wave of his hand, Arthur was still a little lacking in respect for John, and he knew John knew it. Despite that, they seemed to be able to get along for the most part. "Yay! Let's get goin' bro's!" She exclaims, already rushing to the horses out of excitement.
"C'mon then John, make sure ya keep up. Don't want ya endin' up wolf food again." One last jab at him before he goes to join Itsuki near the horses. John just nods a few times, every single joke aimed at him involving wolves, he'd heard it all so this kind of thing wasn't new, especially from Arthur. Brushing it off, John joined the two. John mounted Old Boy while Arthur mounted Vic. Itsuki didn't have her own horse yet, but they'd likely take care of that after the next job that paid well, so for now, Itsuki got on Vic behind Arthur. With that, they were on their way.
After they left the area around camp, John already felt better, he could understand now why Arthur enjoyed being outside of camp often. Peace and quiet but also free from any problems there, almost like an escape so they could come back with a clear head and be ready to work.
"So where we goin'" 
John asks Arthur as they ride alongside each other on their horses, Itsuki holding onto Arthur for the ride.
"Was thinking one of them hillsides around Grizzlies East. Why?" 
From Clemens Point, the ride to Grizzlies East would be quite a long ride, there had to be another place just as nice as the place they were going. "That's a pretty long trip, I know another place closer by, just as beautiful."
  Arthur narrows his eyes at first, he would let John take the lead, he just hoped John wouldn't get them lost. "And exactly where would that be?" 
"This hillside cliff area I found just past Flatneck Station, it's just across from The Heartlands." John replies, surprising Arthur a bit that he was able to remember a location.
"Alright then, just make sure you don't get us lost." "I know where I'm goin'." Was all he said in response.
The ride was peaceful, and since the location they were going was closer, the ride ended up being a bit shorter. the trio passed Flatneck Station and just the far left across from the center of the Heartlands was the Hill John had mentioned. The horses managed to manover their way up and once up top, the three were greeting with an amazing view of the landscape as well as the Dakota River, the sunlight reflecting and sparkling in the shine of the sun. Itsuki's eyes lit up at the view, it really was an amazing view.
"Okay, not bad Marston." Which was probably the best he'd get from Arthur as a compliment.
"Dis place is amazin' bro!" She looked on with wide eyes admiring the view. "It is ain't it? Looked pretty plain t'me at first, then I saw this view and it took my breath away." John comments.
"But I'll show ya the best part." John joined Itsuki at the cliff, Arthur watching on with a raised brow.
"Oh? An' what's dat bro?" She asks, a curious tilt of her head. John arched his hands together over his mouth to sound louder.
"This place echoooooesss!" John shouts, his voice repeating his sentence as his voice bounced from place to place before fading, this would prompt a little giggle from Itsuki.
"Why don't you give her a shout?" John insists, and Itsuki excitedly took her turn. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to speak up.
"Echoooooooooo!" She exclaims, her voice now bouncing from place to place before it faded. "You can really belt can'tcha? I bet everyone over in Rhodes heard ya hollarin'." A light laugh from the little girl as she turns her attention towards Arthur now. "Arthur broooooo, yer turn~" She cooes playfully.
"Ah dunno, this kinda thing ain't really me." Arthur replies with a shake of his head. "Ahhh c'mon brooo!" 
"Yeah c'mon Arthur." John added.
A sigh of defeat as he gave into to John and Itsuki's pleading, taking a few steps closer to the cliff, Arthur took a deep breath and shouted. "Uh.. "
He clears his throat.
"ECHOOOOOOOO!"
His deep voice bounced from place to place, causing a large flock of birds to fly off in fear as his voice sounded out throughout the area before it faded, prompting a bunch of other animals to take off to. Itsuki laughed a bit looking at Arthur's face when he saw all the animals run away from his voice.
"Well, look at that." Arthur commented as he watched the animals run off.
“I think that sounded more like a lion..” John joked.
“Dat was a loud roar bro!” She adds, playfully going along with it
Their enjoyment of the cliff would become boring eventually, but John had a few idea's to keep this little outing fun. While Itsuki was distracted by the nearby flowers. John whispered to Arthur.
"Hey Arthur, remember that one time we were messin' around with our lasso's and ended up foolin' around with em all day?" He asked.
Arthur gives a few nods as he recalls it, one of the few memories they had together that was positive.
"Yeah I remember, what about it?" John points at Itsuki, it only took a minute for Arthur to catch on. "Itty c'mere for a minute. Arthur an I got somethin' t'show ya."
Hearing her name, she perked up and came up to her two bro's curious to what they were going to show her.
"Check this out." John widened the loop in his lasso and began swinging it around trick roping. He rotated the loop as he swung it around before beginning to do some tricks that went from swinging it around and guiding it around him before lowering it to the ground and stepping his foot inside and outside of the spinning loop quickly without getting tangled before finishing it off with John swinging the loop and jumping into the air passing through the loop. Itsuki watched his performance in awe, clapping and cheering for each trick that would be successful, John performance ended after he tossed the lasso letting it spin before stopping.
Next it was Arthur to do the trick that John always messed up on, the large looping tricks, Arthur always seemed to do better at them then he did. With a large loop, Arthur began by yanking the roping towards him, jumping each time it passed him through. Next, he swung the rope as the loop danced around him easily without getting caught or tangled on anything. Eventually, he would take John's lasso and his own, tie it up the make an extended loop, Arthur would take off his hat and hold it to his chest while still passing through the loop with a jump each time before ending it after jumping off a small rock and through the large loop of the lasso. Itsuki watched Arthurs performance amazed as what he was doing, she knew they were good with their lasso's, but this proved that they were much more skilled with them then she had thought.
She applauded
. "Oh mah gosh! dat was so amazin!'." Itsuki would run up to John and give him a hug to which he returned before running to Arthur to give him a long hug before looking back at the two.
"Thank ya so much fer showin' me all dat! It was really cool!" Itsuki had been overjoyed at the show they had just put on for her and only her. Itsuki didn't want to head back because she was having so much fun. After enjoying a meal by the campfire, the day had come to an end so John and Arthur began to tear down camp and get ready to head back.
Arthur began to put out the fire and get the horses ready while John went to find Itsuki, only to find her fast asleep looking up at the starlit sky. Carefully, John picked her up and carried her on his back bringing her back to the horses. 
 Arthur's expression softened a little seeing Itsuki sleeping peacefully.
"I guess she had a busy day huh?" John quietly commented.
"Yeah, even ah'm tired.."
"Well, we did mess around with them lasso's. Least it made her night though." John added. Arthur nods.
"Yeah, that's true." A brief pause before Arthur looked over at John. "Hey uh..John..thanks fer comin'. Made her day a whole lot more fun." Arthur never thanked John for anything, but when it came to Itsuki, he was glad to have someone else looking out for her other than himself, it gave him comfort knowing that whenever he was away from camp, that John would always be there to keep an eye on her.
"Glad I came, needed a nice day outta camp." Arthur mounts Vic and John gently places Itsuki on the horse behind him, she was really tired from today, evident by how she immediately nuzzled herself against Arthurs back as they began to ride off into the night headed back for camp.
“Oh and John..” 
“Yeah?”
‘If you tell anyone what you saw here tonight, yer gonna end up with knife scars ta add to yer collection.” Arthur made it very clear, his voice deep and low, tone completely serious.
“Uh....right got it.”
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narcis-the-monk · 4 years
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FC5 GFH Tag
tagged by @chyrstis​ thank you soooooooo much!!!!!!!! This was a hell of a lot of fun, and I’m going to eventually do my other deputy as well. I went with Val the first time because I’ve been writing her for a minute now. ^^;; But this honestly helped me figure her out a little more, so thank you again <3
Deputy Valya Vitale
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With Fangs for Hire:
     • Boomer: “Hey boy, you’re being a real good dog. I’m sure your folks know that.” / *patting her legs* “Who’s the best boy? Who’s the best dog that rips out peggie throats? That’s right!” *sound of laughter* “It’s you!” / “I fuckin’ love this dog.”      • Peaches: “Never been a cat person, but I’ll make an exception for you.” / “You think catnip works on cougars? I’m looking for some every place we check now.” / “Yes ma’am. You will absolutely get that treat I have for you when we stop next. I know you smell it.”      • Cheeseburger: “This is the best fuckin’ day of my life. I’m fighting with a bear. I think we’ll win.” / “I never knew what I needed in life was to pet a big ol’ grizzly bear. I mean, I’ve been hugged by bears before. Just not this kind. And I love it just as much, if not more.” / “Next time we stop to fish, I’m catching you so much food. Just for being you.”
With other Guns for Hire: Sharky      • “Hey Shark, remember when we got trashed down by the river? Pretty sure this is the spot. Cause I remember you puking there. And there. And me over there. And that’s where I lost my shoe. Hey! There’s my shoe! Small mysteries are solved each day.”      • “Hey buddy, how about if the enemy is say…whatever you’d rank a 3 out of 5 or higher…we don’t set it on fire?”      • “You won’t hear me say this one a lot, so appreciate it. But you were right. Fire was the answer.”      • “You are an absolute mad man and I love the shit out of you, but I need to fight upwind of you from now on. Smoke in my eyes and throat when I’m trying to scream in the face of some asshole that punched me in the tit isn’t what I’d call fantastic. Your aim is so much better now though.”
Grace      • “I’ll give you 20 bucks and my last good beer if you can shoot three peggies in the dick at the next outpost.” *when she’s met with silence* “Guessin’ that’s a no, then.”      • “You have the patience of a saint. I can’t wait even 30 seconds to let my food cool, let alone wait for some asshole to walk out from behind a pole. Fuckin’ amazin’.”
Hurk      • “Watch where you point that thing! And stop laughing, you know I’m not talking about your dick. That’s not an actual threat and we both know it.” *eventually starts laughing with him*      • “I ever tell you how much I love your stories? I never know how they’ll end. I love a good plot twist.”      • “Remember when you, me, and Shark got that moose drunk and we all spent the night in a tree? I’m pretty sure that moose remembers us. He is not a fan.”
Adelaide      • “You keep wonderin’ how they fuck—and that is a point of interest we can revisit later—but I’m wonderin’ how they do every day shit. Like, Jacob’s—does he hunt or does he fish? If he prefers hunting, that tells me big facts about him. They’re both about sittin’ and waiting, right? Schemin’ the right moment to move. One just makes you feel like a big boy, cause you get to hold a gun.  Hey, look at that. This time I left you speechless.”      • “Been considerin’ this for a minute, and if anyone ever asks I’ll deny it up and down and throw you under the bus all in one but…fuck Faith, marry Jacob, and kill Joseph. Last one was hard as fuck.”      • “I need you to just…stop talking for a while. Let’s say 30 minutes. 30 minutes of silence so my brain can finish bleaching itself. Thanks.”
Nick      • “You’re lucky you’ve got guns on that thing, or I’d be giving you a lot more shit about never putting your feet on the ground. I got literally nothin’ else to pick on you with that’s fair.”      • “So how different are planes from cars on a scale of one to ten? I’m just figurin’ out if some shit went wrong and you aren’t near…how fucked are we? Things to think about.”      • “You know, never really liked flyin’. My head’s in the clouds too much for my feet to be too. But I gotta say…you are damn good at it. Almost makes me wanna try. Almost.”
Jess      • “I mean, sure, its satisfying to line up the perfect shot from a mile away and nail it. I’ve been hunting, Jess. I’m just saying, for me personally, I’m a bigger fan of an oar or a baseball bat to the face when I can get it. Makes it personal, and all of this is very fuckin’ personal now.”      • “Look, I don’t like talkin’ about my feelings either, so I’m just gonna hug you.” *stalls after getting the evil eye but hugs quickly* “You are two feet tall and maybe ninety pounds. Like I’m scared of you this close up.”      • “If you were a part of breakfast, you’d be the coffee Jess. Dark and harsh, but great for a wakeup call.”
In Combat      • Seeing an enemy: “I’m on ‘em like flies on shit.” / “You got that one?”      • Sneaking: *mumbled string of ‘fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck’ whenever she moves a long distance* / “Man, fuck this sneaking shit right in the skull.”      • Killing an enemy: “Boo-fuckin-YAH bitch!” / *if you make your shot* “Hellyeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”      • Reviving: “Nope. Not today. Gotta keep you on your feet.” / “Get the fuck up, it’s not the time for a lie down!”      • Hurt: “Well fuck me sideways. I’m alright, keep moving.” / “That’s definitely leavin’ a mark!” / “Oh go fuck yourself!”      • Downed: “Just need a minute here.” / “I think I need a hand up here!” / “Keep goin’, don’t waste time if you don’t got it.” Driving      • If asked to drive: “This may be the best decision you’ve made all day. Buckle up tight.” / “Alright, but seatbelts on or we don’t go anywhere at all.”      • Driving recklessly: “See, this is why I insist on seatbelts!” / “Slow the fuck down or you’ll fuck this car up! I ain’t seen another available ride in a minute!”      • Changing radio stations: “Will you settle on something? Oh, sorry, forgot where I was. Thought everything was normal and Shark was fiddlin’ with the radio again.” / “Cult’s fucked…but I’m okay with their music for the most part.”
Idle      • “Used to have a snake. He was a huge boa constrictor. He liked to kinda just wrap around me like I was a tree. It felt like the best hug there ever was.”      • “Did you know I grew up in Vegas? That place really is a constant party, even away from the strip if you know where to look. It’s not a great thing when you’ve got an addictive personality and prone to efforts of escapism. That’s why I moved out here. It’s pretty, its quiet, and the cost of gas to get anywhere is enough to deter the acquisition of drugs. So did working with Whitehorse. Man’s a saint. Reminds me of my Grandpa Conner—don’t tell him I said that. He’ll think I mean old.”      • “I taught myself how to be a mechanic. Books and experience, and it all started when my old truck broke down when I was 16. Couldn’t afford a mechanic, so I got my grandpa and some tools and learned a lesson that day. Then I had to learn the rest. I still have that old truck. Musta rebuilt that motherfucker from the ground up three times. Only a few things left of the original. But I’m a sentimental fool, and it was a gift.”      • “Callie says an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. Well, she didn’t say it but she quotes it a lot. But I’m thinking…maybe this time, we all just need to be blind. We need a reason to step back and reassess and neither side is gonna be the first to do it. So I’m skeptically hopeful of our win, but still down with the blind thing.”
Location Specific      • In the Henbane region: “Hey, if we could avoid bliss as often as possible…that would be great. Shit makes me feel like I dropped acid non-consensually.” / “Hmmm…there’s the tinglies in my spine again. Where is that little bitch of a plant? I’m gonna rip it apart.”      • In the Whitetails: “If we get a chance, I'd like to swing by my place. Make sure things are fine. Grab some tools. Get Reggie's ashes, since these fucks don't have respect for dead people, they definitely won’t have respect for dead pets.” / “Man, I miss hiking. Well I mean, technically we’re hiking right now. I mean I miss hiking without the sounds of an actual war. Birds and wind and shit. I miss that. But this is good exercise too.”      • Near any body of water: “Please say maybe this time we’re just out to fish. No? Worth a shot. One of these days.” / “This county has the best fishin’ spots in the world, but the best one’s require a hike and some camping gear to really enjoy.” / “If they hadn’t started dumping bliss in everything, I’d say let’s go for a quick swim. The water here is never as cold as you think it is.”      • Fall’s End: “Mary May runs a tight ship, but she can throw a hell of a party.” / “Pastor Jerome set me up with AA when I first moved to the county. He’s a damn good man, and a great listener.” / “As stupid as it is, I look forward to the Testy Festy every year. Love a good tradition. Sometimes you just need something to look forward to, you know?”
I’m going to tag @deathvalleyqueen​ because I’d like to learn more about your characters, but you may have been tagged before. ^^;;;
Thank you so so much! I don’t think I have many people I can tag that haven’t already been, but consider it an open tag if you see it on your dash. <3 
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thiswasinevitableid · 5 years
Note
I would love for you to do the sharing favours professionally from the rivalry/ friends to enemies to lovers for the prompt fill for indruck? (I'm on mobile so can't copy the whole prompt) 😁
“ we’ve been begrudgingly sharing favours back and forth to help each other out professionally but this time i need you to do something more personal and you know you wouldn’t have gotten that account without my help last month or that promotion so you owe me.”
Content note: There’s a brief description of Indrid’s ex being verbally shitty to him.
“No, nuh uh, aboslutely no fuckin way.” Duck maneuvers the last butterfly bush into its display row, stands up to find Indrid glaring at him.
“Why not?”
“Indrid, we see plenty of each other at work. I’m not gettin roped into some evenin shindig with you just because you asked.”
He heads inside, the skinny, pale-haired man on his heels.
“Duck, please, I help you out all the time.”
“Yeah, with work. And it’s only now and then.” He settles behind the counter, checking off the deliveries that have already happened. Indrid stays on the other side of it.
“Oh, really?” he arches a dark eyebrow (of course the guy dyes his hair), “what about the time I made sure city hall chose us for the five year landscaping contract even when you were the one who was supposed to be working on winning them over?”
“That how we’re playin?” Duck leans on his elbows, staring Indrid down, “because I seem to recall it was me who helped convince Mama that havin a little florists space so you could do your arrangements was a swell idea.”
Indrid opens his mouth to retort when the phone rings.
Duck grabs it, “Mama’s Nursery and Landscapin, Duck speakin. Oh, howdy Winthrop. Yep, expectin the last orders this week, then we’ll get started on that zen garden. Uh huh. I see. We’ll see what we can do. You have a nice day now.”
He clicks the phone off, “I hate the rich bastard, but he wants us to do the landscapin on their summer home, which’ll be a nice chunk of change.”
“See! There’s another one you owe me. You have such a hard time being in the room with him, the only reason we got the hospital garden job is because I turned on the charm.”
“Is that what you call it when you get that weird smile on your face?”
Indrid groans in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. When his hand drops away he looks...defeated. 
He and Duck may bicker, may compete from time to time, but Indrid’s a good guy. Hell, Duck will even admit (begrudgingly) that he often enjoys how much the two of them work together. 
Duck sighs, forces his brain to switch from arguing mode to problem solving mode, “Indrid, what’s all this about?”
“I told you, I have an art showing.”
“Right, but why do you need me to go. Why do you need anyone, ain’t your job at those to make small talk and hope people say nice things about your drawins?”
Indrid swallows, picks at the front of his work apron, “He’s going to be there.” He says meekly. 
“He-oh fuck, you mean The Shithead?”
Indrid nods.
“He tryin to pull some stunt to make you take him back?”
Indrid laughs bitterly, “no, he’s been all over his social media bragging about how he’s going to turn up with a hot date to my show,  “show me what I gave up” and all that. Dani saw it and warned me so he couldn’t take me by surprise. I have so few friends in town, and everyone but you has work or something else that night. I thought it would be nice to have someone I knew with me.”
Duck thinks about Indrid’s ex. The guy’d come into the shop plenty of times, often making a big show of putting a possessive arm around Indrid (who never seemed to enjoy the gesture). At least, that’s what he always did when Duck was around. Worse, whenever Indrid was describing a new landscaping design, or working on an arrangement, the ex would pick at it, say how it was bad or lacking, that it would never work and no one would like it. And Duck would watch the glimmer dim in Indrids’ eyes, watch him go quiet (find him more than once sniffling and wiping his eyes furiously in an outbuilding once the guy left).
He looks back at the other man, who is staring at his scuffed converse. 
“Where am I meetin you and what time should I get there?”
--------------------------------------
Duck gives a tight smile to the group of hip twentysomethings crowding the door of the building as he squeezes through. It’s some art space/ coffee house/ bar that isn’t quite his scene, although he likes that it’s warm and lively as opposed to the fluorescent lights and weird silence he was expecting. 
He doesn’t spot Indrid right away, and so takes a moment to look at the drawings on the wall. They’re Indrid’s alright, he can recognize the ways they overlap with the sketches he does for arrangements or the plans he draws up for gardens. And they’re incredible, black and white with pops of color, a few abstract or dreamlike but many seeming more like still lifes. 
One in particular catches his eye and he stares at for a good two minutes, trying to figure out why it looks so familiar. 
“Ahem.” 
He turns, and has to forcibly stop his jaw from dropping.
Indrid is in dark slacks and some sort flowy black shall-jacket thing over a bright red shirt. His hair is tousled on purpose, rather than from getting it caught on plants.  
Has he always looked this good?
“Thanks for coming.” He says awkwardly, extending one of the two glasses he’s holding to Duck. 
“This all looks amazin.” Duck says, taking the drink with a smile. Indrid relaxes at that.
“Oh, I’m, uh, glad you like it.”
“What’s this one of?” Duck points to the drawing he’d been staring at.
“It’s of a really lovely, big cork oak up on one of the eastwoods trails. I like to go there on weekends and sketch.”
“Hold up, that the trail that ends at the little lake?”
“Yes.”
“No fuckin way! I hike that nearly every weekend. Amazed I’ve never seen you.”
“I’m usually off the trail a little ways.” He grins sheepishly when Duck looks aghast at this confession, “I know that’s not allowed but I’m able to get such different perspectives on the things I draw.”
“If, uh, if you wanted to, maybe we could go up together some time. Could leave you to do your drawin while I hiked and then, dunno, maybe get lunch of somethin?” 
Indrid looks a little surprised at the suggestion, but recovers quickly, “That sounds quite nice, actually.”
Duck stays by Indrid as he makes the rounds, asking him about the different drawings and enjoying the way he animatedly describes the process and idea behind each. 
The Shithead arrives about forty-five minutes in. Duck spots him first, complete with a date on his arm. The date is tall, slender, with pale hair, looking like Indrid if he were a model rather than just a regular guy. Or, Duck thinks as he watches the ex preen, as if someone took Indrid and erased all the things that made him so interesting to look at.
“Ex just got here.” He murmurs, and Indrid stiffens beside him. Duck, seized with a sudden need to protect him from that jerk, places an arm reassuringly on his lower back. Indrid glances at him, face unreadable, but relaxes into the touch. For the next fifteen minutes, whenever The Shithead makes a loud, derisive comment, Duck will squeeze Indrids hand or brush his fingers down his back and Indrid will shake off the words. 
There are several people wanting to buy drawings and so Indrid excuses himself to go thank them.
“Knew you’d be the one to pick up the scraps.” Says a familiar, unpleasant voice.
Duck turns, levels The Shithead with his most disinterested gaze. 
“Nice to see you too. And I ain’t got the slightest clue what you’re referrin to.”
“He was always talking about you. ‘Oh, Duck knows so much about native plants,’ ‘oh, Duck has such good ideas.’” He says it in a mocking, high pitched imitation of Indrids lilt and Duck wonders if he can get away with physically throwing him out of the building. 
“Anyway, it doesn’t surprise me that when I traded up, he went crawling to you. Honestly, you can do much better.”
“Beg pardon?” Duck growls.
“Let me see, how to put this in terms you understand? Why waste your time on a weed when you could have a prizewinning rose?”
“Because,” Duck says through gritted teeth, “sometimes people call things weeds just cause they don’t behave exactly how they want ‘em too, or because they don’t see the value in ‘em.” He steps closer to the ex, not noticing that he’s stopped whispering, “You fucked up. You were shitty and Indrid had the good sense to dump you and now you’re doin some petty shit to try and hurt him. He’s amazin at what he does, he works hard, he’s funny, and he’s so handsome I wanna look at him every damn day. You didn’t see the value in him. That’s your loss. Now fuck. Off.”
The Shithead is about to say something when a hand grabs his shoulder. His date is behind him, looking pissed.
“Hold on, you asked me out to try and hurt your ex?”
“Uhhh, babe, no, I can explain.”
Duck smirks, turns to check on Indrid just in time to see him slip out a side door.
“Goddammit.” He mutters, quickly following him. 
The door opens into an alley, and Indrid is standing with his back to him. When he turns, his hands are over his mouth and his eyes are wet. But he doesn’t look unhappy.
“You like me.” He whispers. 
“Uh” Duck scrambles, “well, yeah, we’re, uh, friendly types, fuck.”
“You think I’m handsome.”
“Shit, you heard all of that?”
Indrid nods, Duck sighs.
“Fuck it. Yeah, I think you’re handsome. And all the other stuff. And lots of, uh, other stuff that I didn’t say but could’ve.
Indrid steps closer, “Is the part where you admit all our arguing has been the only safe outlet for your, um, passion for me?”
Duck snorts, “Hell no, sometimes you need a fella who’ll tell when an idea ain’t feasible. But…” He meets Indrids hopeful gaze and smiles, “I’d be lyin if I said I ain’t thought about what it’d be like to be a different kind of partner to you.”
Indrid reaches for him, and Duck goes willingly into his arms as the taller man blushes and says, “Yes, I’ve thought about that quite a lot as well.”
------------------------------------------
 Dani’s glad Indrids’ show is open so late. It means she and Aubrey can go once Aubreys’ act is over. She even texted Jake and Hollis, asking if they wanted to check it out too (also, if Indrid’s ex was there, having someone who looked like, and basically was, the head of a motorcycle gang would come in really handy).
When the four of them reach the bar, she peeks in hoping to see Indrid, but can’t spot the taller man (or Duck) anywhere.
“Huh, maybe he left?”
“Or maybe he’s taking a little ‘break.’” Hollis makes airquotes before pointing up. They all look towards the balcony, which clearly isn’t in use for the party. 
It is, however, in use for the two figures currently occupying it for a long and intense looking kiss. One is wearing red glasses, the other lets out a laugh that unmistakably belongs to Duck Newton. 
“We should give them some privacy.” Aubrey says. The other three look at her, and then she grins.
“Just kidding! WOOOOOO GET IT DUCK!”
“ABOUT FUCKING TIME DUDES.”
“GET A ROOM!”
“I’M SORRY ABOUT THEM BUT GOOD FOR YOU!”
----------------------------------
The sound of his friends catcalling them breaks Ducks concentration for all of two seconds. Then he flips them the bird, and goes back to the very important business of making out with his boyfriend. 
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alitheamateur · 5 years
Text
The Grind: A Wedding
A/N: I’m unsure of how many parts it will take to cover everything I want include in this most anticipated story of nuptials for our cherished Liv, and Colton. But, I do hope you relish in part one. I love you, all! This process will be written, obviously. But, lots of pictures will be included, creating some sort of a photo album for you, as well. *I do not own any images you see*
Warnings: Language.
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June bride. It always sounded so… so, Cosmo. So, cliché, and posh. So typical. And so no me. And oh yet, here we are. The sunny Saturday of June 22nd. Finalizing the last pins to my loose, naturally blonde hair. Colton’s only requests for that day including the blonde. And the down-styling. And the chocolate cake which I think he somehow requested because he knew it was my favorite. 
Things were elegant, and still understated. There was not to be a single sequin, or rhinestone. The only beads permissible were pearls, and that was only if extremely necessary. My boycott against bedazzle made the dress shopping a nightmare, as it seems this generation prefers all the sparkle. But in the hands of Tia, who can weasel and tantrum her way into situation, I found the most perfect cut of silk in Pittsburgh. My mother ground her teeth a little. The back hung low, flowing down the airbrushed bronze of my spine. The lush shine of the material cuddled, and stretched around the swell of my bottom, and a slit climbed my left thigh. I was reluctant about it. My scar from the frightful skiing incident of 2010 was on full display, marked horizontally along the meaty flesh of my upper thigh. 
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“If that asshole won’t marry you, damn it, I will, LC.” Tia sniffed as I met her eyes in the full-length reflection of the mirror.
Even on my wedding day, still posing up a good threat to snag me away from my groom.
“You look… you look phenomenal, Liv, dear. I can’t wait for him to see you.” Sweet Beth gracefully dotted away the salty residue from the full tears marking down her cheeks, as she daydreamed about her sons soon nuptials.
I squirmed at the foreshadow of Colton’s inappropriate groans and beady glances once he saw me in my dress. The dress. The one I never would’ve imagined I would try on in a private dressing room, much less parade in front of a crowd full of snapping cameras. But, love gives a girl some bold bravery, it seems. The sensual dip of the snug gown would be worth the raise of conservative brows in attendance once I saw Colt’s intrusive eyes turn black with the burying of his desires.
My mother strapped me into the buckle of my heel while Andrew snapped a few intimate snapshots of the moment on my phone. He was a member of Colton’s groomsman squad, but he’d spent a chunk of the day prepping at my side, and relishing in the bliss to come. 
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“Have you heard his vows, Drew? I mean, did he have you like, proof them or something?” I searched my clutch the folded note of worn paper where my own vows were scribbled down, and handed them to Sara for safe keeping until time.
“By proof them, do you mean have I checked to make sure they aren’t loaded with expletives?” He brought over my bouquet as I stood to finalize the approval of my reflection before my solo photos around the archway outside. “Yes, Liv. I read them. And that’s all you’re getting.” He sealed his mouth, and threw away the insinuated key.
I barely recognized the penetrative gazes of the woman staring back at me. My jaw was held at a confident angle, eyes lined thick with tasteful faux lashes, and hips slightly swelled with the weight of womanhood and true love. Colton had changed me in every way that made me better, before I even knew exactly who I thought I wanted to become. His many a kiss, countless moonlight confessions wrapped in the sheet of the bed we shared, and simply the way he watched me take my first morning sip of coffee constituted everything my naïve soul needed to recognize love in its most intimate state. I couldn’t wait to touch him in his suit at the altar. To let him still the trembling of my hands as we exchanged rings, and seal what I already felt with our first kiss as man, and wife.
Sara gently interrupted your thoughts, stuffing a dainty pink handkerchief into your clutches around your bouquet. 
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“Because I know you’re going to need this. And, because I know for a fact you’ve forgotten your something borrowed. I used it on my wedding day.” She kissed my cheek.
I wouldn’t have married Colton on this day, the day of his choosing, if Sara couldn’t have been here. I adored my Tia, and Drew, and each other person who was here with me in this adopted home of Pittsbugh. But my wedding day, the only one I know I’ll ever have, I needed my Sara to hold me in a moment just as this one.
A rattling tap echoed from the other side of the heavy oak door, capturing the attention of every eye in the room.
“Liv?”
Colton.
“Liv, baby? You in there?”
My face fell with haunting nerves, and Tia ran for the knob to answer his faint callings from the hallway.
“He can’t see me, Tia. No way! Don’t think of letting him in here.” I ordered.
“Relax, will you? I’m going to step outside with him, okay?”
Tia barely opened the door into a crack large enough for a toddler to squeeze through, and disappeared. I worked my busy hands at the ribbon flowing from the stems of my peony bouquet, scolding myself for even considering the worst reason for his unexpected visit.
I held my breath when she re-entered the overly crowded dressing area, purposely holding back her smile longer than necessary.
“He said he just wanted to hear your voice. That’s it. And only from behind the door, of course.”
Tia, and my mother ushered my prep team toward the reception area to check out the final touches, giving Colt and I a moment of solace, and a deep breath after the bustle of wedding day jitters. When the last person escaped, I wiped the sweat from my palm, and turned the door handle, carefully standing far away from the minimal crack.
Just as my fingers peeled around the door, I felt the familiar heat of his rough-skinned fingers grasping perilously for mine.
“Fuck, I needed this.” He moaned satisfactorily, and my side of the door bounced back towards me as he fell onto it from the opposite side. My touch alone fed his nervous withdraws from being apart for only two days. “I needed you. Just for a minute, at least.”
I played with his fingertips.
“Someone isn’t getting cold feet, are they?”
I could hear the tap of his black dress shoes we had bought last week for the occasion.
“Well, Drew had to talk me off the ledge a couple hours ago.”
I froze, and my bones nearly calcified into fossisl with the stillness his sentence bought over me.
“Woah. Hey, I’m only kiddin’, Livvy. Breath, baby. It was just a joke. Clearly, a poor timed one.”
Colton kissed the solo ring on my finger, staking his claim. “You ain’t gettin’ rid of my ass that easily.”
I wanted to kiss him. Those minty lips, now probably stained with a celebratory shot of whiskey were the only things my consciousness would focus on.
Maybe if we both closed our eyes first, then touched lips for just 2 seconds?
“How dedicated are you to this whole ‘no seeing each other thing’?” I thought out loud, Colton took the question as one directed at him.
“Trust me, angel. I’d give absolutely anything to see you right now. See how amazin’ I know you look, as usual. But, I think we both know you’d instantly regret breakin’ that little tradition you were so persistent about.”
He was right. I had just enough Indiana in me to keep hold of those age-old small-town traditions like not seeing your groom before the ceremony. And first dances, and flower girls.
“But, since I’m here, how about we go ahead and trade letters? I know Drew was going to do the swap for us, but I’ve got mine me if that’s cool with you?”
What a difference time can grace upon us.
I mentioned one evening, months ago, scrolling through websites while doing some planning, how I thought the idea of writing letters to each other was such a touching sentiment. Never expecting another word, much less even an initial response from my stoic, silent man. But, to my much pleasing surprise, Colton simply agreed with an “okay,” never the slightest inkling of protest in his voice. Love had done a number on this bitter, complicated man, too. A hard one. And it suited him mind, body, and soul.
“Yes, but under one condition?” I parted towards to counter to find my own letter addressed to him.
“Name it.”
“I don’t want you to read it until you’re back in your room.”
I slid the sealed envelope into his hand, holding my palm upward for his.
“I love you, Liv. I am so fucking crazy in love with you.” Colton whispered, almost breathlessly.
“I love you, you handsome brute. Now, go. Before I ruin what little makeup I still have left.” 
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I didn’t latch the door until his footsteps were no longer detectable, not wanting to miss the sounds of his closeness to me. Seated on the antique velvet of the elegant armchair at the foot of the bed, I delicately tore open the letter.
Liv,
You marvelous creature. You are a necessary electricity that shocks my heart to life every single day that I’m near you. My spirit is broken, and it’s only fucking hope is in your hands. Thank you for taking my hand, and warming me with your irreplaceable light. Naturally, we both know I’m not a verbal man, but it seems in writing you this letter, I may have found my newest, most favorite way to try and express how I feel about you. Nothing about you loving me makes sense, but it’s one mystery wave that I will ride until there is no life left in me with no questions asked. Yours is the only hand I want to hold, and get lost in the swell of life with, laughing, crying, and standing still along the way when need be. This day, the day you foolishly take my name as your own, and vow to be my wife will surely be the most precious day I have lived. Only second to the moment I met you.  I swear, when I’m with you, it’s like the air tastes better, even. You have stroked my ego like a vicious woman in love, and you’ve stomped it out when I needed the harshest of reality checks, just as I deserved. I hope as long as you’ll have me, I can be the solace you need in the most troubling of days. And the strong tower you need when you feel scared or threatened. I’ll be the laugh when you’ve seemed to have misplaced your own, and the tears when yours don’t seem to satisfy whatever grief falls on you. Always, Livvy. It’s you. You and me, against the strongest of odds, we will come out on top. Can’t wait to see you. Soon. You know where to meet me.
I love you.
Colton
Waterproof mascara was a myth, whipped into a lie at the hands of Colton Ritter and his hidden talents with a pen and paper. I read his confessions three times, memorizing it like it was a secret that I was afraid would be torn away within minutes. All along, I’ve been the one in our household staking a claim to literary topics, and standing on my platform as an English major. But this, the handwritten romance of his raw admissions, blew me away, along with every mediocre talent I thought I wielded. Someone I had foolishly often discredited as “simple” or “distant”, had force-fed me to eat the sour swallow of “crow”, penning words that probably belonged alongside the most magical of love letters through fictional history.  In my opinion, anyhow. Not the that object of the affections in said letter would be biased in the least.
. . .
Colton
I obeyed her commands, as I usually do. Happily. And waited until I was seated at the bar in my suite across the grounds from her before opening the letter. I wanted to drag her up the courthouse steps long over 6 months ago, but this place wasn’t so bad. Like it would be, with her taste. I even liked it, actually. I’d never tell Liv though, and have her thinking for a minute that any of this exhausting, unnecessary, wedding shit mattered to me. I would’ve married her in our living room with Mac ordained if I thought she wouldn’t have minded. But, I adore her. More than any should adore another human, truthfully. And I knew this day, with all the people she loves in attanedance, is what her heart needed. So, I shut my fucking mouth, and smile when I’m told like a good husband would. But, I’m not wearing those damn cufflinks. She’ll have to harass me for that one later, and I’ll ask forgiveness. Or, distract her with my mouth the way she likes so much.
I drank down another shot of the aged brown liquor, sucking in its warm after bite between my teeth as I opened the neatly sealed envelope she marked with my name.
 Colt,
The mightiest of men could never steal my love for you. To most, your eyes may be the darkest, most dangerous pools of heartache and pain. But I only see the glow of a man who the world just doesn’t deserve to know. Whatever I have needed you to be, you have truly surpassed any responsibility as the man I love, and my heart shouts a thousand words of gratitude. You kickstarted the first pangs of real love within me, and sometimes I foolishly believe that there aren’t two people in the entire world who share as much love as you and I. The weight of your hand within mine is the only courage I have ever felt, and it somehow seems my most insatiable moments of weakness are both caused, and cured only by you. You’ve respected me as your equal, never pointing out my many flaws as a failed strong woman, and secured my every longing for my destined lover, and companion. I never truly believed in any definition of eternity, until I woke up one morning without you by my side and realized I never wanted to live another day without you in it. You have believed in me, encouraged me, and monumentally coached me. In the ring, and in life, I find that we are a team fit for whatever battle seems to threaten us, destined to come out victoriously hand-in-hand. I know you will only do justice to your newly deemed titles of husband….. and daddy
Surprise, my love.
-L
Did she know what she was saying? Was this some sort of reference to the future that I wasn’t understanding? Was she applying that term as some sort of kinky slang that people use these days? It was like my mind told me I should freeze, and clam up with horrified dread at Liv’s very, very unplanned spilling surprise. But yet, as I read the word again silently to myself, then again, aloud, this time, my pulse never quickened with fear. I didn’t feel like shattering this fucking glass of bourbon against the brink of the bar where I sat alone. I couldn’t even squander up the slightest glimmer of resentment at the birth-control of hers that had apparently faltered.
Daddy. Dad. Pop.
My feelings only went directly into running over all the things I’d want he… or she to call me. And all the ways I’d hear it fall from Liv’s sinfully pink lips when she spoke to the little runt about me. Would she let me use my name if it was a boy? Could I take her to the gym with me unsupervised while Liv was working, even though it was probably no place for a little girl?
The itch my skin felt already from feigning for the feel of her touch, and needing her to fill the void between my embracing arms enlarged to a dull ache now. I woke this morning already drunk, knowing for a fact I hadn’t had a single drop of liquor, simply from the joy of knowing I would finally make an honest woman out of her today. And now, I could feel my heart crawling and leaping and vibrating with gladness like I never imagined humanly possible. For a once worthless fucker like me, especially.
A tear dolloped onto the ink of her swirly handwriting, and my toes curled inside these leather vices around my feet. I hadn’t cried like this since I broke my first knuckle when I was 16. But ever since Liv had waltzed her way into my life, it seemed tears were becoming a familiar foe of mine.
“You read the letter?”
“Shit!” I shook and sniffled, whipping round to see Andrew arming into his suit jacket.
“Yeah. Yeah… I uh, I read it.” Andrew was one of the only friends I really ever allow myself to smile with.
“You are one lucky man, Colton Ritter. You better know that. As if Liv wasn’t enough of a gift, now….”
“You knew? This whole time, you knew?”
He grinned. “Guilty. But you’re not allowed to hit me and stain the tux.”
I stood, dismissing myself from the stool, and carefully folding the fateful paper into my pocket. “How far along is she, Drew? When did she find out?”
Drew shook his head like I knew he would. “You know you need to hear all that from her, man. I can’t ruin that for you guys.”
He was indeed right. I wanted to watch her snub back tears as she told me about the tests I’m sure she had taken behind my obviously inattentive back. I envisioned in my mind the way her eyes would get all glassy and wide when I hugged her belly and told her I loved her more than life, and I would kill for her if it ever came to that.
“Half hour till showtime, Colt. Look alive.”
TAGS: @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @miidailyinspiration @littleluna98
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melliemaus · 4 years
Text
Blast From The Past
Where: Carl’s Pie Shop When: March 16 2020 Notes: Mellie gets a blast from the past that sends her on a rollercoaster of emotions
“Get on out of here Carl. I can handle lock up tonight. Go out and treat ya’self sugar.” Mellie grinned swatting towards the man and shooing him out of the building. She worried about him that he didn’t get out enough and that’s why Mellie was always willing to take over so he could hopefully love himself a little bit. There were only a few people left and as they trickled out she was ready to close up when she heard the bell at the front door. “We’re just about to close up so we’re only doing to go.” Mellie offered not looking up as she was sorting a shelf behind the counter not hearing anything she turned around. 
A gasp escaped Mellie’s lips as she saw who was standing in the shop. Her face paled as she felt nearly like she saw a ghost, the jar she was holding crashing to the floor. “Oh shit I’m sorry.” Mellie flustered to grab the broom and try to clean up. “Here let me do it. You take a deep breath darlin’” Mellie nodded handing over the broom as she watched Sarah sweep the floor cleaning all the shards of glass. Mellie flipped the closed sign locking the door before going to sit with her. “What are ya doin’ here?” She asked as her eyes took in the other woman’s face. 
Her hair was still long and dark and curled every which way. Her wide smile and those dimples that drove Mellie wild. She had done everything she could to forget Sarah Marshall. To forget the pain and the heartbreak and the sadness that she had felt when she had realized that Sarah had no interest of trying to find a life together. That Mellie had always been Sarah’s dirty little secret and that’s all she would ever be. “I have a game we’re playing the strikers. I’m on a team in New York. I uh I made it.” She smiled softly. “Seems like you did too. Meels this place is everything you ever wanted.” 
Mellie couldn’t help the pride that filled her heart at the news. She had always known that Sarah would go places and even after everything she was proud of her. “It’s not my place but it keeps me happy keeps me going.” Mellie had tried not to wince at the nickname she was the only one to ever call her that. “How did you find me?” She asked. “Meels please you’re kind of famous everyone knows they gotta go try Mellie’s pies at Carl’s place.” Sarah chuckled. “When I heard that I knew, You always did love a good pie.” Mellie bit her lip. “But why Sarah I mean I know what high school was to you. You don’t have to pretend we were friends or that you need to see me.” Mellie could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as she tried so hard not to let the emotions come back up. 
“That’s the thing Meels I fucked up. I know how I treated you and it was so awful and I have regretted it I felt bad ever day since graduation.” Sarah sighed. “I was told so many times that if I was gay my career was over,. It was the south Meels I mean for god’s sake you didn’t want to be outed either.” Sarah let out a frustrated sigh. I was young and afraid and desperate to get out and not have to spend my days working odd hours to take care of my family.” Sarah looked over to the other woman tears in her eyes too. “So I pushed you out and I mad you believe that I didn’t care but you are my first love. Amelia Maus I wouldn’t have survived High School without you and I have not loved anyone the way I have loved you ever since.” Mellie could feel her heart stammering at the words it was all she had ever wanted to hear that ti had meant something to Sarah too. That Mellie wasn’t crazy and that she had meant something. Tears were now rolling down her cheeks. 
“I would have risked it all for you.” Mellie said softly. “I know” Sarah spoke her words dripping with shame. “You were always stronger than me.” Sarah said softly. “I know I’m too little too late and I know you got a great life here and I am just so darn proud of ya.” Sarah sighed. “I just needed to tell ya before I regret it for my whole life and it was something I had to say in person.” Mellie sniffed wiping the tears from her eyes as she moved closer to the other woman. “I think part of me will always love you Sarah Marshall.” Mellie admitted. “But thank you. It’s exactly what I needed to hear and I’m sorry you couldn’t talk to me I’m sorry ya went through all that but you’re doin’ amazin’ things reaching ya dreams and I am prouder than proud could be.” Mellie reached up to wipe a tear from the other woman’s cheek.“ They spent the next half hour talking and it was like no time had passed. Mellie felt her heart soaring and some wounds healing but also that ache she had learned to dull pushing its way to the surface. The pain more raw as she tried to pass it down. 
“I’d love it if you could come to the game. I mean ya don’t have to I know I hurt ya and maybe ya don’t ever wanna see me again.” Sarah admitted. There’s always a home out here for ya. You’re braver than ya know. I’ll be rootin’ for ya at that game just like I always did.” She nodded. “You’re incredible Meels.” Sarah said softly. “I know you’re working I should probably get back rest up for the game but I’m glad you’re good Meels.” Mellie nodded. She knew the time had come and while she knew she would see her at the game Mellie wasn’t sure if she’d ever speak to the woman again. “Goodbye Sarah” Mellie nodded. “Goodbye Mellie.” Sarah leaned over to kiss her lips softly and Mellie felt a wave of emotions wash over. As she watched the woman walk away she couldn’t help but feel this was the closure she had been needing. As a few tears rolled down her cheeks Mellie couldn’t determine if she was heartbroken or relieved or maybe just maybe a little bit of both. 
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psychosistr · 4 years
Text
Talk to Me- Chapter 5
Summary: A brilliant idea on Steelbeak’s part leads to a fun time involving one of Domino’s favorite pastimes.
Notes: Another chapter of bonding and fluff before something more dramatic begins >:3
-First Chapter-
Steelbeak finished taking off the cap on the bright red fire hydrant, looking through the fence at his partner waiting on the other side. “Ready?”
Domino, standing a couple feet off to the side to avoid the incoming spray, nodded. “Do it.” He had both of his pistols out and loaded.
That was all the go-ahead Steelbeak needed to bring the thick wrench up to the pressure valve on top of the hydrant and start twisting it, releasing a fierce stream of water that rushed through the fence and all over the ground on the other side. It had been a while since he’d broken open a fire hydrant without his metal beak but, after some fumbling with the spare wrench from the emergency repair kit in the trunk of Domino’s car, it all started to come back to him. The struggle had been worth it, though, to see the excited gleam of anticipation in the loon’s eyes at what was to come.
Once there was a sufficient pool spread out across several feet ahead of him, Steelbeak gradually eased the water pressure until he was able to screw it shut again. “Alright, Dee- it’s all you!” He gave the darker bird a thumbs up once the cap was back on the hydrant.
“This should only take a minute.” Domino aimed his guns at the large pool of water and began firing at it. Instead of lead bullets, though, what came out of the pistols were small capsules that burst when they hit the water’s surface. Anywhere the capsules hit began to rapidly freeze over and, after firing enough shots to empty both clips, the ground was covered in a large, semi-even sheet of ice. “There.”
While Domino holstered his guns once more, Steelbeak tossed the wrench back into the trunk of the other bird’s car and made his way back through the open gate. “Lookin’ good, Dom.” He looked over the icy ground before giving the loon a wink. “And the ice ain’t lookin’ too bad, neither.”
“Smooth.” Domino chuckled quietly, giving the taller bird one of those charming smirks that made blood rush to his face. “If the ice is anywhere near your level, then this should be fun.” He returned the wink before stepping onto their improvised ice-rink, gliding across it with ease on his bare feet.
Despite the whole thing being his idea, Steelbeak was a little more hesitant to step out onto the ice. “Just don’t laugh at me too much when I start fallin’ on my face, alright?” He took a cautious step onto the slippery surface. So far so good. Now just add the other foot and push forward to- “Woah!”
Steelbeak, predictably, ended up sliding forward a few inches before his feet started to slide out from under him and he fell forward onto the ice. While he thankfully avoided hitting his face, the impact still knocked the wind out of him and left him momentarily dazed.
“Do you really expect me NOT to laugh after that performance?” Looking up from his sprawled out position on the ice, Steelbeak saw his partner standing in front of him. The loon was smirking down at the prone rooster with an amused smirk on his face, clearly enjoying the other’s misfortune.
With a grumble Steelbeak attempted to get back up, succeeding in getting as far as his knees without falling. “Well, ex-cu-use me- we can’t all be figure skaters.” He tried to get his feet under him and managed to get a few inches off of the ground before slipping again and falling back into a seated position. “Son of a-!”
He heard laughter and looked back up to see Domino practically doubled over and holding his midsection. While Steelbeak wanted to be mad over someone laughing at his clumsiness- and he really, really, REALLY wanted to be mad about it- he found himself just staring, instead.
Sure, he’d heard Domino laugh before, particularly tonight while they’d been talking, but the other man was usually so much more..reserved about it. A quiet laugh here, a chuckle there, maybe even a few seconds of more joyous laughter once in a while if something was particularly funny.
This, though…this was different. This was more like at the restaurant right after he’d revealed the trick he’d played on Steelbeak: It was raw and open and just so genuinely joyful between the sound and the smile on his face that it warmed something in Steelbeak’s chest and made it impossible for him not to smile and laugh along with him.
It took a while for both of them to calm down, having to wipe tears of joy from their eyes once they’d settled into quiet, breathless chuckles. “Here.” Steelbeak was surprised to see a long strip of purple fabric being dangled down in front of him. He realized quickly enough that it was Domino’s scarf and that the other end was being held in its owner’s hand while he looked down at him with a calm, patient smile as he waited for him to take the other end. “Or do you prefer having frostbite on your tail feathers?”
“Nah, can’t say that I do.” With a grin on his beak, Steelbeak grabbed the free end of the scarf. “Don’t go off on me if I pull ya down too, short fuse.”
Domino rolled his eyes, but the fond smile on his face made the action ultimately pointless. “You of all people should know that I’m stronger than I look.” Well, Steelbeak definitely couldn’t argue with that one after everything he’d seen the other bird do to guys more than twice his size. With that in mind he gripped the scarf firmly in one hand and pushed off of the ice with the other, managing to get all the way up to his feet with Domino pulling the scarf taut to offer him a counterbalance. “Three seconds without falling- you’re already improving.” The darker bird joked with a smirk. Steelbeak was about to say something snappy back in return- “Why don’t you hold on to that?”
“Huh?” Steelbeak looked at his partner in confusion, then down to the scarf still being held in his hand. “Ya sure ‘bout that, stripes?”
“If you keep falling like that, you’ll break the ice.” Domino said while wrapping his end of the scarf around his left hand twice. Once he was done, he held his hand up for the other man to see. “This way we can make it last a bit longer.”
“If ya say so, Deedee.” Steelbeak shrugged and mirrored the shorter bird’s actions with his right hand, wrapping the scarf around it twice. “Just don’t go too fast, alright? Im kinda rusty.”
“Wow, I never would have guessed.” The shorter bird said sarcastically before he pushed off of the ice with one foot to glide forward.
The sudden motion startled Steelbeak a little at first, but he was silently grateful that the other man at least heeded his request to go slow. It took him a while to get used to the feeling of skating over the ice, lots of long strides back and forth before taking slow turns around the edges to go back the other way. It had been a really long time since he’d been skating- at least two or three years, if he was remembering it correctly. Every now and then he’d start to lose his balance and nearly fall, but a firm tug on his hand would always level him out before he reached the point of no return. The quick pulls and feeling of tension around his palm were more than welcome and, after a while, a slight flush bloomed across his cheeks when he realized what it reminded him of.
He snuck a glance down, his eyes trailing along the purple fabric connecting his off-white feathered hand to the black feathered one on the other end. Even with the ends of the scarf wrapped twice around each of their hands, there was still a foot or two of space between them- just enough to avoid bumping into one another if they ended up falling. Still, despite the distance between them and the lack of warmth in his palm, the pressure around his hand and the bright smile on the other man’s face left him with a feeling better than every instance of the real thing put together.
“Dang…you’re amazin’..” It wasn’t until red eyes were looking at him with a quirked brow that Steelbeak realized he’d said those words out loud. He felt his whole face go red and he looked away in embarrassment, trying to recover from his slip of the tongue. “I mean, you’re, y’know, amazin’ at this skatin’ stuff! Haha, yeah, that’s it! Dunno how ya can do it so good with no shoes on or nothin’!”
When he hazarded a glance back at his partner, he saw the aquatic fowl was looking at him with an amused smirk. “Uh huh.” He said sarcastically before guiding both of them around another turn. “If you’re really interested,” The teasing tone of his voice clearly communicated that he knew the other wasn’t actually that interested in it. “It’s mostly because of how much I’ve practiced.” They got around the turn and started skating back the other way, the loon even showing off a little by skating backwards so he could face his partner properly as they talked. “My base up north was in a colder climate and we dealt with snow and ice quite a bit throughout the year. I spent a lot of time on breaks and between missions going out for walks and skating on the lake nearby. It was refreshing after spending so long cooped up in the academy.”
Feeling that the embarrassed flush on his cheeks had calmed down significantly, Steelbeak regarded the loon curiously. “Thought ya said your academy was up north, too?”
The amused smile on Domino’s face quickly turned to a grimace at the mention of his old training camp. “Yes, but I only ever got to go outside for training exercises..the instructor kept me too busy for anything else..”
“Real stick in the mud, huh?” Now Steelbeak really WAS interested.
“More like a thorn in my side.” The grimace turned into a full-blown scowl as he spoke, still keeping an even pace across the ice. “I don’t know what I did to piss him off, but the general in charge of my class had it out for me from day one: He always singled me out for extra work to do around the base, so I never had time to study. When I started my firearms training he shot me in the leg and gave the excuse of ‘The first thing to train on is how to handle BEING shot’. Not to mention he took every opportunity to hit me from behind or pull out my feathers.” He rubbed at his head with his free hand, clearly remembering the feeling all too well. “Then, even after I passed my final exams with some of the best marks in my class, he STILL refused to give me my agent status and tried to make me an eggman.”
“Geez, what a prick.” Steelbeak was scowling now, too. “What’s the guy’s name?” He’d have to pay the jerk a visit sometime in the future, maybe see if he could pull a few strings to have him reassigned or put on a suicide mission or something..
“General Rover.” Domino huffed and shook his head. “I already-”
“Wait, wait, wait- hold it!” Steelbeak cut him off before he could continue, his earlier scowl replaced with a curious look bordering on bewilderment. “General Rover? As in General ‘Red’ Rover? Old dog, dark brown-but-kinda-red fur, some sorta Australian breed?” He moved a finger vertically over his left eye with his free hand. “Real bad scar right about here? Eye’s kinda milky lookin’ an’ don’t work that well?”
Domino looked a little baffled, but nodded nonetheless. “Yes, that’s him. Was he a friend of yours or-?”
The loon was interrupted once again, though this time it was by Steelbeak laughing so hard that he had to stop and grab the bars of the fence at the end of their path rather than turn as they had been. “You’re pullin’ my leg!” He wheezed out between his uncontrollable fits of laughter. “I-I’m dyin’! Oh-ho man, I’m dyin’ here!”
Domino eyed the taller man with a look somewhere between confusion and caution, likely thinking the other was in the process of losing his mind with how hysterical he was acting. “I think I’m missing the joke here..”
Steelbeak made an effort to calm down, he really did, but the whole thing was just so FUNNY that the best he could do was look at his confused partner with a face-splitting grin and gasp out a few words here and there between barely-restrained chuckles. “That..That’s the chump whose wallet I stole!!”
Red eyes blinked and widened in surprise. “Wait, are you serious?”
“Yeah!” Steelbeak tapped the eye that he’d indicated earlier. “I gave the old dog that scar when I was a kid! Cut ‘im an’ left my knife right in his eye- messed the old dog up for life!”
“That was YOU?” Domino’s confusion was quickly turning into amusement. “Wow…what are the chances?”
“I know, right?!” It still took a few more deep breaths for the rooster’s fit to finally stop. “O-ho man, that’s the best laugh I’ve had all night.” He used his free hand to wipe a stray tear from his eyes before looking at the darker bird with a grin. “Yeah, I think the guy’s got a problem with birds or somethin’, and what happened with me probably didn’t help any- sorry ya got the fallout from it.”
“Don’t, it wasn’t your fault he was a terrible person- I’m fairly certain he’s ALWAYS been like that.” The loon shook his head with a chuckle, a deadly smirk slipping onto his beak. “Well..I suppose I should say he was like that..”
Steelbeak smirked back at his partner, already getting an idea of what happened from that blood-thirsty gleam in the other bird’s eyes. “Ya blew up on the guy didn’t ya, short fuse?”
“Making me an eggman was the last straw.” The short-tempered bird sighed with a tone of mock sympathy. “He just pushed me one too many times. Such a tragic accident.”
“I can hear the world weepin’ over it.” Steelbeak matched the other’s mock-pity before they both broke the façade and started to chuckle and snicker again. “Wish I could’ve been there t’ see it.”
“Do you remember the man that grabbed my shoulder in the hall right after we started working together?” He continued when he received a nod from the taller bird. “Imagine that, but about fifty times worse.”
If Steelbeak had less self-control, then he would’ve trilled at the other’s words- the more sadistic side of his mind just adored what his partner was capable of (as long as he wasn’t the target of it, of course). “O-ho-ho, you DESTROYED ‘im, didn’t ya? C’mon, c’mon: I need details.”
“Well, if you insist.” Domino smirked as he began to recount the full story of how he brutally attacked his former instructor/tormentor.
Steelbeak had every intention of listening, too, more than happy to hear all the gory details…but a spec of red on the shorter bird’s shoulder distracted him. Normally he wouldn’t think anything odd about seeing red on his partner since it was one of the main accents on his usual outfit, but the loon wasn’t wearing any red tonight. What was even more out of place was the fact that it was moving like a bug, going up from his shoulder towards his head, but he couldn’t see any legs or wings moving. If anything, it looked more like a la-
“MOVE!” He acted without thinking and practically tackled the darker bird.
If what he saw didn’t kill him, his partner probably would.
<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->
End Notes: Will I ever write a story where these two don’t end up in some kind of danger?...Probably not x3
Also, just wanted to add that I consulted @thefriendlyfour regarding the general from Domino’s training days to get a better idea of what a jerk he was and was granted free reign to come up with a name and design for him. I went with the name “Red” Rover to fit in with the children’s game theme that seems to follow any OC’s associated with Domino’s past x3 He’s an Australian Kelpie with dark brownish-red fur, contributing to his nickname.
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rosellasans · 4 years
Text
To See the World Before your Eyes [Part 1]
Summary: They were going to migrate to the capital city. Razz was going to further his education, and Rose planned to see the sights. However, it wouldn’t be so easy.
Steampunk AU
Pairing: Pepper Roses - Razz/Rose
Rated M for the violence
Warnings: loss of parents/parent death, graphic depiction of violence! Sky pirates are involved. Proceed with caution
Even when you can’t see it, you can hear the turning of gears and cogs. The steam coming out of pipes as the ship ignites fire to keep the large blimp over it afloat. It was a grand airship, leading to Odgan Hughes. The capital city of Baldry Heriot, where the greatest inventions were said to be created. The prosperous city due to its machine advantage had a large population, with many tourists coming and going, as well as those planning to stay permanently, it goes to show just how much of a superpower it was becoming. 
As such, Razz was excited to see such a sight, and learn of all the city could offer. However, the trip was … rather bland. Nothing he hasn’t seen before as this was not his first time on a large airship. Exploring it would be … inappropriate. Even if he was still a child, he had a high status to maintain, and shouldn’t be doing anything untoward and bring shame to his family name. 
Razz was an intelligent and well-mannered boy. So much so that, in actuality, his parents worried. Razz was still just a child, and being unruly is still all right for his age. While they were happy to have such a thoughtful son, they were concerned that Razz wasn’t happy and having fun. They’ve tried introducing playmates; however, Razz’s politeness and distance made it difficult for others to get close. A child shouldn’t be carrying such a heavy weight on their shoulders at such a young age. 
Now the airship had several floors that accommodates to commoners and noble lords and ladies of society. Though there was segregation in the social ladder, it is not punishable to interact with those above or below. Though, because of the unspoken rule, a boundary is kept. 
However, a curious little one couldn’t help his curiosity in exploring such a large airship. He’s never been on it before. And so high up too! His parents saved up to migrate to the big city so that he could get a better education and live better lives. 
Rose didn’t mind, loving to see new sights. And because it was so, he found himself in a room where he was surrounded by people wearing fancy clothes and puffy dresses. They look really expensive! Everything in this large room did. Compared to his simple and not puffy white dress, he didn’t fit in. But that didn’t stop Rose from looking around. He perked up when he even saw the food, and went to the dessert table. 
Razz looked boredly at the crowd gathered. The socializing really wasn’t his forte. Children his age anyway. He prefers to talk to scholars and other intellectuals who can share his passion for discovery and the curious. 
Hmm? Suddenly, he spotted someone unfamiliar going to the dessert table. With their outfit, it was easy to see that the child was a commoner. 
Razz saw the other pick up a cream puff, and … it was amazing how much they brightened up. Seemed like they it. It was … He’d never admit it was kind of cute. Pure even. 
Ah but, he should say something. Using both hands wasn’t proper. Look at the mess on their face from the cream. 
Rose has never tasted anything like it before. A sweet and creamy delight that he now deemed his favourite. He wanted to have it every day! 
“You’re making a mess.” Rose turned to the voice and blinked. It was a boy dressed prim and proper like the adults in the room. “A lady like you should take care of their appearance.” The cream was gently wiped off his face by the boy’s handkerchief. 
“Oh, thanks~!” Rose cheerfully smiled. “Name’s Rose!” 
Razz expected the slang, and replied accordingly. “My name is Razzcardairil Jouvégner.” 
Rose blinked before giggling. “Your name is soo long! Imma call you Razz!” Razz’s brow twitched, but he supposed he’ll let it slide. Rose offered his cream puff, the one he already bit mind you. “You want some, Razz? It’s really good!” 
Razz tried not to show his displeasure, and politely rejected the offer. However, the immediate downcast impression on Rose made him force himself to relent. It wasn’t gentleman-ly to make a lady sad. “Very well.”
Rose cheered up after hearing it and offered the treat. “Yay! Say aah~!”
Embarrassment wasn’t enough to define what he felt. His cheeks coloured and he prepared himself leaning forward for a little bite. He straightened up immediately. 
“Isn’t it good?” 
“It’s ordinarily sweet.” Razz stated truthfully. He wasn’t a fan of sweet confectioneries in the first place. The sugary cream on his palate was tolerable. 
Rose gasped. “No way! This is suuuuper amazing!!” He emphasized with his arms to show its magnificence. Razz looked on with a deadpan expression at the exaggeration, making Rose pout with puffed cheeks. Razz had the urge to poke it. He stopped himself by saying, “For a lady to eat appropriate and proper, eat in small bites and use the tongs to pick up the dessert to put on a plate—”
“Eeeeh. But I won’t be able to enjoy the yummy treat!”
Razz patiently said, “It’s simply how it is. Otherwise, people will think you’re a hooligan.”
“What’s that? Is it bad?” 
“Very.”
Rose gasped. “I won’t be able to eat this treat anymore?” 
Since Razz was getting the message through, he shook his head gravely, making Rose gasp again and hurriedly looked for a plate to put the cream puff on. 
“But then, how do I eat it?” 
“Fork and butter knife.” 
“... But where will I eat on?” 
Razz opened his mouth to answer before it occurred to him that there was no table available. 
Rose brought up, “Oh! If I eat outside, it will be okay right? Can I take as much I want then?”
“Piling up food on a plate is not—” 
“But going back and forth is tiring! Plus, it’s pretty outside!” Rose proceeded to pile cream puffs on his plate. 
“Hey—”
When Rose finished, he smiled brightly at his companion. “Join me, Razz! We can even explore the ship! It’s so big! I wanna see it all.”
“I …” Razz furrowed his brows, for the first time, deeply troubled. 
“Oh my, is this your new friend, dear?” The children turned to look at the well-dressed lady. Beside her was an equally well-dressed man. 
“Mother, father.” Razz bowed his head just as he was taught for respect. Rose hid behind Razz, a bit scared. 
“Sorry to have frightened you deary, we didn’t mean to intrude.” 
“It’s okay.” Rose said quietly, still behind Razz. He took the courage to say, “Um, is it okay for Razz and I to go outside and play?” 
“Hey, I didn’t—”
“My~” Razz’s mother was ecstatic and his father was delightfully surprised. “Go on. We don’t mind at all.” 
“Mother—”
“Now, now. You two enjoy yourselves. No need to stay here.” 
Razz got the message and sighed in his heart. “Very well.”
“Yay~! Let’s go, Razz!” Razz was dragged along, and the parents watched as they left. 
“It’s good that he found a friend now.” 
“Yes. I hope he can learn to experience being more relaxed and have fun.”
----
“That allows for the heat to be used as energy, and that’s why the steam comes out of the pipes.” 
“Wow~! You know everything Razz!” Rose beamed. “That’s amazin!” 
“... It’s nothing.” He ignored the warm feeling in his soul. He’s been praised countless of times. And yet, when Rose complimented him, why did it feel different? 
As they explored the airship, Rose would ask questions and Razz would answer. They’d take breaks with eating cream puffs, to which Razz was forced to use his hand and treat it as finger food for the lack of cutlery. He endured eating the dessert. He wanted to tell Rose he couldn’t eat anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
So they continued until there was no more cream puffs, bless Razz’s soul, and they sat on the veranda of the highest floor, only available to VIP members. Razz took Rose as his guest, and they looked over the nightly landscape scenery before them. Stars decorating the sky as glitters on a bluish black canvas. Surrounded by clouds and the sea below, to Razz whose often seen it, it wasn’t at all amazing. But to Rose, it was breathtaking. 
“Razzy,” a nickname that Rose came up for him along the way. It was cute and cheesy, but with Rose saying it, Razz found himself not minding it too much. After all, after telling Rose to not call him that, their stubbornness made him relent in the end. Though he won’t allow others to call him as such. He was drawing a line there. “Why’d you wanna go to the capital?” 
It was a question he didn’t expect, but answered regardless. “To partake in studying their machines and gain a better understanding of their mechanisms.” 
“Ooh! Are you gonna make things?”
“It’s not a sure thing, but it’s a possibility.”
“Then, make an airship!” 
“That’s already made.”
Rose shook his head. “No like, airship that moves on its own!”
That piqued Razz’s interest. “Moves on its own?” 
“Yeah! Like, maybe it takes energy from the sun! Or wind or something.”
“That certainly is an interesting concept.” It’s a novel idea for sure. 
“Yeah! And then, when you make it,” Rose smiled happily as he took Razz’s hand and lifted it up high. “Let’s go on trips together! Explore the world!” 
Razz’s eyes widened and his heart thumped. Beyond surprised, he didn’t expect such ambitiousness coming from Rose. Explore the world… 
There were so many things out there that has yet to be explored. And that kind of excitement and thrill … His heart seemed to thump loudly. 
“Take me with you, okay?” 
Razz looked at Rose, and for the first time, he smiled. “I’ll think about it.”
“Whaat? Stingy! Pinky promise! Let’s go together!” 
“I haven’t even made it yet.”
“But when you do, take meeeee.” 
It wasn’t an ‘if’, but a ‘when’. Really. To have that much faith in him and making promises. They’ve only just met today. 
Rose pouted from the lack of answer and latched onto Razz. “Take meeeeee. Pretty pleaaaasee~” 
“A lady shouldn’t be whining.” 
“So you’ll take me if I don’t whine?” 
Razz couldn’t help but sigh. Rose had the tenacity, that’s for sure. He’d never met anyone like him. He’s sure that the latter would whine regardless. “Fine.” He lifted his pinky finger up. “Once I finished making it, I’ll bring you with me.” His smile became softer, warmer, and genuine. “Let’s explore the world together.” 
Rose cheered up, and crossed their fingers together. “Pinky promise!”
“Pinky promise.” 
----
The embers continue to spread, as explosions shook the ship. Screams and hurried panic stomps. People rushing for safety, for security, for their families. The pleasant evening was disturbed and ruined when the pirates invaded. It wasn’t rare to come across these raiders in the skies, but it was uncommon enough to be unexpected. 
The guards had rushed in. Clashes of swords and the sound of gunshots. It became a battlefield that rendered the civilians helpless because there wasn’t just one pirate ship. Several surrounded the airship. 
And it wasn’t a pretty sight. 
People were slaughtered without discrimination. Men, women, children. It didn’t matter to them as they pillaged the treasures and money that can be found. People cried, screamed, begged. And the foolishly braved fighting back was met with a bullet to the head or a sword pierced into their chest. 
But not all was lost. There were lifeboats being used to get as many people as they could. Many had already disembarked. And there were only a few spots left. 
“You go on, son.” Razz looked at his father with wide eyes. He didn’t want to leave his parents behind. He wanted them to come with, but there was no time. For once, he was unwilling. Rebelling and disobeying. He couldn’t leave them. 
“My dear and beloved son.” His mother kissed his forehead as he saw the tears sliding down her cheeks. “Don’t let this be the end. You must live on and survive. Your father and I will buy time for you and … watch over you.”
“N-No. Don’t.” Hot tears welled up in his sockets. This couldn’t happen. “You have to come.” He rushed forward, embracing them. Gripping their clothes tight. He didn’t want to let go. But he was forced to. 
“We can’t. That’s why you—” The door slammed open. The screams were amplified by the pirates coming inside. Right before his eyes, before he could reach his father riddled with bullets and his mother was stabbed in the back to protect him. “Run! Run to the boat.” She did her best to smile. “We’ll always love you.” She pushed him to go. “Go. Go to the boat!” 
Razz shut his eyes when he turned around and ran. Helpless and weak. He never hated being so incapable and incompetent. Footsteps rushed after him, and by misfortune, he had tripped and stumbled hard on the ground. 
“Hehe~ Too bad!” Razz wasn’t fast enough from backing away from the blade, and he felt searing pain from his eye. The blood leaked out like tears, keeping it close as he kicked the pirate’s shin before bolting to buy him time. 
If he doesn’t survive this. His parents would’ve died in vain. He has to live on. 
Razz ran to the lifeboat, his life depending on it. When it came in sight, the people already on gave made room for him. The capacity was full, and the sailor hastily ignited the engines to fly away. 
Surrounded by people just as scared, wounded, in tears, Razz felt emptiness. He looked back to the sinking airship. Watching the fire spread and smoke become thicker and blacker. 
It only hit him then that he didn’t even see Rose after he escorted him back to the commoner area hours before all this chaos. 
Razz clenched his fists tight as he gritted his teeth. He won’t even know if Rose was killed, managed to get into the lifeboats, or still in the ship looking for safety. His … first friend. 
Before it could even start, it seems that the promise was already broken. 
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flightsoffandom · 4 years
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Space Bound
Pairs:
None really, left vague, the characters featured alongside the reader are Bones, Scotty, and Kirk.
Summary: When you were little people visited your planet and ever since you've dreamed of traveling the stars. Your dream might just come true when a large ship lands in town.
Word Count: 3039
Notes:
I tried to keep it as gender-neutral as possible but, I couldn't find a gender-neutral term for Scotty to use in place of ‘Lad/Lassie’, so the few gendered terms for the reader are ‘Lassie’,(Bones does use ‘Darlin’ ’ once as well) If anyone knows a good replacement or would like me to repost this story taking out the few gendered pronouns just let me know. Other than that I hope you enjoy it.
I found this writing prompt @wordfather​ and went with it.
A:Who are you?
B:Your doctor.
A:Okay, Mr. Doctor, where’s your white coat and other... doctor things?!
B: You are aware that... it would be ‘Doctor’... and not ‘Mister Doctor’?
A:
B:
A: Well, sorry if I;m not articulate enough when I wake up in strange surroundings!
Growing up on a small planet was pretty boring. Having never left you didn't know any other way of life. One day when you were little there was a ship that landed, you don't remember who they were or why they were there. You only remember the amazing stories. They told about everything that was beyond the reach of the sky above you. While your people knew of space travel, it went against the religious teachings. As taboo as it was, you couldn't help but dream of traveling the stars. You couldn't believe that it was bad. Considering, many years ago your people had to have gotten to this planet by the same space crafts they refuse to use. So you did the only logical thing a rebellious kid could do. You started trying to make your own ship in secret. There were old texts that had some of the details and instructions. The planets governing body ordered the books destroyed. With the vandalized pages and the pages ruined by the weather, there wasn't much to go on. You stayed determined. Visitors very rarely came but whenever they did you would seek out the crew in private. Offering to trade whatever they needed in exchange for them helping you work on your ship. It started out as a pathetic hunk of metal and while it had progressed over the years it still wasn't much to look at. The crews never stayed long so their help was short-lived before they had to be off again. Now in your adult years, it was getting harder to believe you would ever make a craft solid enough to get off the ground. Let alone get you into space. The older you get the more your parents pressure you to marry so you could be a productive member of society. There was no way you could tell your parents what you wanted to do, so your plan so far had been to be refuse to court anyone. Another method you used to slow down the ever-looming marriage, was to be rude to anyone who tried. You hated being mean for no reason but it was the only way to drag out your time.
In a clearing surrounded by trees, sitting in the dirt you stare at the pages in front of you. Most of the words were gone but that didn't stop you from trying to figure out what it was saying. It had been more than five years since the last ship came through. You threw the book to the side and flopped back down on the ground behind you. You squeezed your eyes as tight as you could out of frustration. Putting the palms of your hands over your eyes. It helped block out the light that filtered through your eyelids. Exhausted from working on this every chance you got so even the hard ground felt soft and comforting. You drifted off for a bit. When you came back to reality you heard the sound of engines. At first, you thought it was your imagination. As your eyes focused on the sky you saw a large ship coming into land. You jump up and start running back into town, trying not to trip over your own feet. Once you made it to the edge of town you saw how big the ship was. It's disk-like shape connected to its base where two other parts stuck out it looked odd. It was the biggest ship you have ever seen. Trying to look casual, you make your way towards the ship. You wanted to get crew members to help as soon as possible. As you inch your way closer the crew finally docks and a handful of people come out of the ship. You observe them for a while. Noticing a brown-haired man in a red shirt inspecting the outside of the ship. You take a risk and assume he is the person you want to talk to. Taking a roundabout way, so nobody notices what you are doing. When you get close enough you walk up behind the man and start talking, “Hello, are you the mechanic?” The man in front of you jumps, turning around. “What dae ye think yer doin' sneakin' up on someone like that, lassie?” You stare at him for a moment, not sure why he was so startled in the first place, “Sorry?” You lower your voice as you ask him again “You're a mechanic right?” The man nods “Chief engineer, ay.” You thrilled, you smile at him. “I need your help, I can give you supplies in exchange.” Overexcited you don't wait for a response, you grab the man's arm and start leading him to your project. The man stiffens up for a bit but concedes, grumbling “Donnae need tae go an’ pull like that.” Once you get to the woods you push through the trees into the clearing. “This is it, I need help finishing it” The man strolls forward, looking over the heap of metal. “This supposed tae be a ship?” He looks back at you, concern on his face. You nod “I've been trying to do it myself but it is hard.” You grab one of the books you've been using and hand it to him. “Its missing parts of the instructions.” He looks shocked when you hand him the book. He looks at it like its a foreign object. You wrinkle your nose and look at him, starting to wonder if you asked the wrong person. Flipping through the pages he starts talking, “I havenae seen one o’ these in years, It’s all outdated, ye’d niver..." He pauses and looks from the ship to you, “This niver make it aff the ground.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you listen to him. His expression shifts to pity as he continues “An if ye managed that miracle. Ye canae survive in that thin’.” You frown at him. You feel like you are about to cry but you hold back the tears “I followed the book though… well as best as I could.” You walk over to the metal and start fiddling with some of it, trying to calm yourself down. “There has to be a way to get it to work.” You let your voice trail off. He walks over beside you “Ye did an amazin’ job given the tools ye were using, she just willnae fly.” He starts looking it over himself, moving some pieces around to inspect it as he adds. “Yer folk have the technology, sae how come ye dinnae ask them fur help?” You shake your head “We aren't allowed to use ships like this, let alone build them.” He stops, rubbing the back of his neck thinking about something. He looks over your work once more, coming to a discussion. “Well I canae guarantee anythin’ but I can speak tae the cap’n. Wi’ yer skill ye’d be a good addition tae the crew.” You perk up, “You’d take me with you on the ship?” You look up at him. He tries to give a neutral response, but you already getting excited again. In your excitement, you forget to pay attention to the items in your hands. The man tries to warn you, “Careful lassie-” Unfortunately it was too late. Before he can finish speaking you feel a painful zap and everything goes black.
The sounds around you are the first sense to come back to you. You hear a man with a deep voice talk as he moves around you. “They don't believe in using space ships, so here I was planning to retire. And then Scotty had to go and almost kill a local.” The next voice you hear you recognize. It was the man in the red shirt you from before you blacked out, he sounds nervous “I didnae dae anythin’ it was an accident.” Another man rebukes, “Bones, you know you'd never be able to sit still in a boring place like this. You love the action I bring into your life.” The first man who was apparently called Bones scoffs, “You'll get me killed far before I’m able to retire. I don't know why I even bother.” While their voices don't sound violent, the killing part made you nervous. Not knowing where you are you finally decide to open your eyes. You look around seeing the man you had already met standing in the corner, gazing down at the ground. There was was a blonde-haired man in a gold shirt, leaning casually against the wall. Finally was a dark-haired man in a blue shirt standing right beside the bed you found yourself in. Startled you leap off the bed before moving backward. You tried to create some distance between yourself and the three men but the room was small. When your back hits the wall your eyes flit between each of the men. They are all staring at you, the one in blue scowls as he speaks, “You need to get back in bed.” When you don't budge he softens his face a bit “Calm down, darlin’. You were electrocuted and you need to lie down.” He reaches out to comfort you but you slap his hand away. You glare at him “Who are you?” While the man in red looks relieved to see you awake and the man in gold looks amused by the situation as a whole. The scowl returns to the man in blue standing in front of you, “Your doctor.” The authoritarian tone in his voice causes you to look around the room again. It didn't look like any place a doctor worked on your planet, except for the medical looking bed you had been on. You don't immediately see any tools in the room. Still skeptical you challenge his claim, “Okay, Mr. Doctor, where’s your white coat and other...” You try to think but your mind is still a bit fuzzy, “doctor things?” All three men stare at you. The man in blue grabs a weird object. His annoyance eases, as he starts to look concerned. He pulls out a piece of it and starts moving it up and down in your general direction. He starts moving closer, his eyes focused on the bigger object in his hand. “You are aware that…” He looks up at you again, stopping right in front of you. “It would be ‘Doctor’...” He studies your face before moving the small object around your head. “And not ‘Mister Doctor’?” His concern seems genuine but you didn't know what he was doing. You decided to remain silent, glaring at him as he continues working. He doesn't approve of you not responding so he steps back. He crosses his arms waiting for your answer. After a few more moments of silence, you begrudgingly reply, “Well, sorry if I'm not articulate enough when I wake up in strange surroundings!” The man in blue motions to the bed, retorting. “You might not be ‘articulate’ because you have brain damage from the shock. So sit down and let me do my job.” You huff and do as he says. The man in gold snickers “Bones, you deserve an award for your bedside manner.” Bones rolls his eyes as he gets back to inspecting you, trying to ignore the other man. The man in gold walks to the end of the bed, “I’m Kirk, Captain of this ship. Your lovely doctor there is Bones.” Kirk motions to the man in red, “And it looks like you've already meet Scotty.” Scotty gives you an awkward wave. You wave back before questioning, “Is ‘Bones’ a normal name?” Bones turned to glare at Kirk and Kirk is beside himself. The two men answer at the same time. Kirk blurts out “-Yes.” While Bones grunts out “-No!” Bones turns back to you, “I’m Doctor McCoy.” You nod, looking around the room again. Dr.McCoy stops and looks at you, “You seem to be fine, had some minor burns that I already took care of while you were out.” He steps backs back and motions to the door, “Your free to return home.” You stand up, “What if I don't want to go back home?” Kirk opens the door and chuckles, “Sorry, this isn't a civilian ship.” You frown before glancing at Scotty. Scotty tries to subtly shake his head, “Lassie, now’s nae th’ time-" You ignore him turning to look at Kirk, “You said you are the Captain, yes?” Kirk nods, exchanging a look with Scotty “I am.” You cross your arms, “Well, Scot-” Scotty interrupts you, stepping between you and Kirk. “I meant tae brin’ it up. It didnae seem like th’ time when thay were possibly dyin’.” Dr.McCoy lets out an annoyed sigh, “Can you three have this argument anywhere else but my medbay?” Kirk looks at the doctor and announces, “Fine.” The three of you walk out of the room. Out of spite, Kirk takes one step past what seems to be the boundary of the medical area. Kirk turns to Scotty, “You promised her a spot on the ship?” Scotty shakes his head, holding his hands up in defense. “Nae, jist a chance.” As you stand to the side of the pair, you see the Doctor walk out of the medical room you were in. Dr. McCoy stares right at the two arguing, looking completely done with his life. McCoy puts his fingers on his temples as he walks over. “Dammit Jim, if I knew this was what you were going to do I would have told you to stay there.” Kirk tries to play innocent and shrugs, before talking to Scotty. “She electrocuted herself, are you sure she can handle herself.” Scotty nods “Ay, give ‘em the engineerin’ test an’ see hou it goes.” Dr. McCoy interjects, “If we started measuring ability by how little someone got hurt. You'd be out of a job. I've had to patch you up more than anyone else on this ship.” You turn to McCoy, surprised he sided with you. Once you see his face you can see it was to annoy Kirk. You didn't plan on complaining because you wanted at least a chance to be on a ship. Wanting to plead your case, you try to cut through the tension. “If you'll just let me take this test, thing, he is talking about. I only want a chance. If I fail then I'll leave you alone and go back home.” Kirk looks from you to Scotty and then back again. “Fine, but either way you need to tell your people we aren't kidnapping you. They've been pounding on the hull ever since we brought you here for treatment.” You nod enthusiastic, “Of course.” Scotty lets out a sigh of relief before turning to you “Follaw me.” You do as he says and follow Scotty. You here Kirk and Dr.McCoy talking as you walk away. McCoy speaks up first, “You sure about this?” Kirk shrugs, “I mean I've had worse ideas.” McCoy sighed and shook his head. “That doesn't say much considering almost everything you do is idiotic.” The last thing you hear is Kirk laughing as you get out of earshot.
The test was hard. You knew enough to get yourself close to the results they wanted but you usually missed a few parts. Yet Scotty helped you, which you had a feeling he really wasn't supposed to be doing. He didn't have to help you much though luckily. Once the test finished they sent you to go talk to your people and family. Walking off the ship was one of the most nerve-wracking things you've ever done. You saw the crowd of people right away. Their anger turned to relief when they saw you. It didn't last long. Once you told your parents what was going on the relief transformed into disappointment. The rest of the town shunned you and dispersed, leaving you to console your parents. They were far from happy. You hated seeing them like this but you knew deep down in your heart you would never be happy trapped on the ground. You tried to explain it to your parents but they didn't seem to understand. They hoped for your safety before retreating back into town with everyone else. You sighed and made you way back onto the ship. Having, even more, riding on being accepted onto this ship had your stomach in knots. You waited in a room onboard all by yourself. It felt like years were passing as you were getting sucked into your own thoughts. When the door finally opened your heart leaped out of your chest. Kirk, Scotty, and McCoy are all standing outside but Kirk is the only one to step into the room. You crept forward. Afraid to be the first to say anything you wait for him to speak. Kirk smiles and hands you a pile of clothes, “Here, Once you put it on meet us outside. We have some things to go over.” You nod and Kirk exits the room the doors closing behind him. You look down at the clothes in your hands, noticing the shirt is red like Scotty’s. Pulling on the clothes they feel pretty comfortable for a uniform. As you step out of the room, you tug at the bottom of your shirt. You greet the three men as you step out, “Hello.” McCoy talks first, “You'll have to stop by medical again so we get a medical record started for you.” While the doctor's tone came off as harsh. The more you heard him speak you realized that there was no ill will in his intentions. Scotty adds to that, “Then ye can come doun tae engineerin’ an’ start workin’.” Scotty looks almost as excited as you feel and you can't help but smile. Kirk starts leading the group down the hall as he talks about the ship and other things. McCoy elbows the Captain. Kirk looks at the doctor and then back at you, “Ohh right. We never ask before.” Kirk reaches out his hand and you take it before he adds. “Welcome aboard the USS Enterprise, What’s your name?”
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you-a-southpaw-doll · 5 years
Text
In the Name of the Law ~ A Negan!AU One-Shot
Summary: Negan, who’s the local deputy sheriff, lies to his wife (the reader) by telling her that he has to work the night shift one evening. That evening also happens to be her birthday, so she’s a wee bit upset. But! Negan actually has a surprise for her.
Warning(s): Light smut. Hella teasing. Fluff. Explicit language. Negan’s very sneaky and naughty.
Author’s Note(s): This started out based on a dream I had the other day ‘bout Negan bein’ a cop. I ran the idea by @thamberlina  who in turn suggested the idea of havin’ Negan do a little striptease for his girl. We figured we’d start this out as a one-shot, but if y’all want a part two, just let us know.
Relationship(s): Negan x Reader
Characters: Negan. Reader.
Taglist: @negans-network , @thamberlina , @prettyboynegan
Story Time:
 “I’m fuckin’ sorry, doll. I have to go into work tonight.” Negan lies.
He feels bad ‘bout lying to you, today of all days, but in order for his plan to work out like he wants it to, he has no other option. His heart breaks a little as he watches your face fall.
“But…it’s my birthday, Negan. You told me you wouldn’t ever work on my birthday.” You mumble. “You’ve not had to work my birthday in the ten years we’ve been married.”
He can hear your voice cracking, and he hesitates for a moment, wondering if it’d be best to just call the whole thing off. But, then, he remembers just how much you love to tease him ‘bout him being in his deputy sheriff’s uniform. That you’re always saying that you think he looks ten times sexier when he’s in uniform. 
Which, is why he planned what he did to surprise you for your birthday. He runs a hand over the stubble covering his jaw as he looks at you. Even though he’s only got his uniform pants on, with his white undershirt tucked into them, he pauses, waiting to put the dress shirt on. 
He wraps his arms ‘round you, and pull you against his body. He smiles as he feels your arms wrap ‘round his waist and you lay your head against the middle of his chest.
“I know, sweetheart. I know. Believe me, I don’t wanna fuckin’ go into work. I’d rather stay here with you, curled up on the couch, watching some rom-com movie that you love.”
He hears and feels you giggle since he’s holding you close to him. He lets out a quiet chuckle, knowing that he’s made his wife happy, even if it’s just for a moment.
“That sounds amazin’. I wish you didn’t have to go to work tonight.” You mumble into his shirt.
“I know, baby. I know. But, I’ll fuckin’ make it up to you. I fuckin’ promise.” He assures you.
You nod your head and tighten your arms ‘round him. He hooks a finger under your jaw, and tilts your head back. His breath catches in his throat as he gazes into your eyes.
“I fuckin’ love you. You know that, right?” He asks.
You nod. “I know. And, I love you too.”
“I’ll be home later. Ok?”
“Ok.”
He lowers his head to brush his lips against yours. Being who he is, Negan deepens the kiss, and pulls your body as close to his as he possibly can. When he finally pulls back, he chuckles at the sight of you. Your eyes are glazed over with a look of lust and love combined. 
Your lips are swollen from his kiss. He presses his lips to your forehead.
“I’ve got to finish getting’ ready, doll.” He murmurs.
You sigh, but nod as you step back. He pulls the dark khaki dress shirt on, and buttoning up the front of it before tucking it into his black uniform pants. He clinches the belt tightly before reaching for his department-issued gun. Once it’s in its holster, you step closer to him. 
You run your fingers over the shiny badge pinned to his shirt, just over his heart. Looking up at him, you reach up to cup his jaw. He closes his eyes at the feeling of your skin against his, even if it’s only a little bit of contact. He turns his head to the side and kisses your palm. 
He opens his eyes and looks down at you.
“Come home to me. Please.” You plead, quietly.
Every time he goes out on a shift, you always tell him this. You both know that its never a guarantee that he’ll come home alive. Being a cop isn’t necessarily an easy, safe job. There’s always the chance that something could happen to him. Regardless of how careful he is. 
Back when he first joined the police force, years before he met you, he was a hardheaded, arrogant officer. He never really thought twice ‘bout his safety. Yes, he always made sure that whatever he did never got his partner at the time injured or worse, but he didn’t care much ‘bout himself getting hurt.
Once he met you, though, that all changed. He started being more careful, not only for his partner’s wellbeing, but for his as well. He couldn’t bear the thought of putting you though losing him. And, if he was gonna be honest with himself, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you either. 
You mean the absolute world to him.
“Scout’s honor, sweetheart. I’ll do my best to come home to you tonight.” He says, softly.
You give him a soft smile, and he feels his heart swell. Stepping up on the tips of your toes, you give him a quick kiss. He heads out shortly after that; he does have to keep up the appearance that he’s going to work, even if he’s not.
  A few hours later, you’re sitting on the couch in one of Negan’s old band t-shirts and a pair of shorts, eating from a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, while your favorite movie plays on the TV. You sigh, and pull the blanket tighter ‘round your body. 
You really wish your husband had stayed home tonight instead of having to go into work, but you knew he had to. Since he was the deputy sheriff, he had to go in whenever he was told to, even if he wasn’t scheduled to. Since y’all got married ten years ago, this is the first time you’ve had to spend your birthday without him.
It sucks. Just as your favorite scene of the movie begins, three loud and heavy knocks ring out against the front, making you jump and almost drop your ice cream. You’re not expecting anyone. You quickly reach for the gun Negan has stashed in the drawer by the couch. 
After he left, you made sure to lock the doors, just like you always do.
“Portland Police Department! Open up!” A deep voice bellows from the other side.
You scrunch your brow in confusion, trying to keep your thoughts from going to the dark side. There’s only one reason why the police department would be knocking on your door, and you’re not ready for that. Negan can’t possibly be dead. 
Not tonight. 
He promised he’d come home to you. Besides, it’s your birthday. He wouldn’t do something to get himself killed on your birthday. Right? Keeping the gun close to your side, but uncocked, you make your way over to the door. Unhooking the latches, and turning the lock on the door handle itself, you crack the door and peek outside.
What you see, stops you in your tracks, and confuses you even more. You set the gun down on the table by the door, and look at the man before you. Standing there, on your front porch, all by himself, is your husband.
“I received a call that someone has been a bad girl here lately.” He says, using his cop voice.
“Um…no?” You question, unsure of what’s going on.
He flashes a dimpled smirk. “Just trying to do my job here, ma’am. Can I come in and ask you a few questions?”
“Um…I guess?”
He steps inside the house, brushing up against you in the process. Closing the door behind him, you glance at him. He stands there, thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his uniform pants.
“What are you doin’, Negan?” You ask, still confused as to what he’s doing.
“It’s Deputy Sheriff Negan to you, ma’am. And, I’ll be the one askin’ the questions here.” He says.
He steps forward, so that he’s standing directly in front of you. You have to tilt your head back just to look up at him. It takes you a minute to realize that he’s actually playing out one your fantasies. You try to hide a smirk and your blush, but he notices. 
He chuckles.
“I thought you had to work tonight.” You say.
“And I thought I said I was the one who was asking the questions here.” He retorts.
You giggle. “Fine. Proceed, officer.”
His eyes darken as his smirk grows. “It’s Deputy Sheriff. Not officer, ma’am.”
“Fine, deputy sheriff. Proceed with your questions.”
“Oh ho. You’re really not supposed to tell me how to do my job.”
You raise an eyebrow, but don’t say anything. He gestures to the couch.
“Mind if we take a seat, ma’am?” He questions.
You shrug. “Sure.”
He lets you sit down first. You wait for him to sit down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stands in front you, gazing down at you. You take a deep breath in. You really do love the sight of him in his uniform.
“Is it true that you’ve been a bad girl, ma’am?” He asks, his voice deep and husky.
Shrugging. “I don’t think so, sir. I haven’t done anything.”
“Is that so? Well, maybe I got my information wrong?”
You shrug again. “Maybe so.”
“Ooo. Teasing a law enforcement officer, are you? Well…that just deserves a little somethin’.”
With that, he starts to slowly unbutton his uniform shirt, keeping his eyes locked on yours. He stops after all the buttons are undone, but he leaves it tucked in. You can see a few chest hairs peeking out from the collar of his undershirt. He proceeds to ask you a few more questions. 
Each time you answer him, you do so in a teasing way. And, each time you tease him, he undoes another part of his uniform. By time his belt’s undone, his gun holster’s resting on the table, and his dress shirt is in a pile of the floor, you realize that he never had to go into work tonight, and that he was just messing with you.
You also realize that he’s giving you a striptease.
“An informant told me that it was your birthday. Is that true?” He questions.
You nod. “Yes, sir.”
He loves it when you call him “sir”. You grin as you watch his eyes darken even more. He tugs his white shirt free from his pants and pulls it over his head. You suck in a deep breath. His toned physique never ceases to amaze you, and you love the ink he has scattered across his body. 
He tosses his shirt to the floor as he moves to straddle your thighs. When you reach up to run your fingers down his abs, you grin. His body tenses, but not in a bad way. His lower body jerks, causing him to grind against you. He lets out a quiet moan at the feel of your fingers against his skin. 
You place quick kisses all over his torso.
“Fuck, baby.” He groans. “This is supposed to be for you.”
You giggle; your mouth still pressed to his chest. “Trust me. It is. I’m enjoying this.”
You reach down towards his belt, but he stops you by curling his long, thick fingers ‘round your wrist. You look up at him, only to see him shaking his head.
“Nope. This is my present to you.” He says.
“Then let me unwrap it.” You tease.
He groans. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me. I swear.”
You giggle. His fingers drop from your wrist. You grin and unbuckle his belt. Once its open, you let your fingers glide across his crotch. As you pull away, his hips jerk forward, trying to follow your fingers.
“Who’s in charge now, deputy?” You tease.
A low growl emits from deep in Negan’s throat. He grinds his hips against yours. You gasp at the contact and arch your hips up.
“I’m in charge, sweetheart. You know that.” He growls.
You nod your head. He grinds against you again, which has you arching up towards him. He chuckles as he lowers his head and attacks your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. He playfully nips at the skin there, and switches between nipping with his teeth and gently sucking on your neck. 
Your arms wrap ‘round his middle, and you drag your nails down his back. This only causes him to grind against you against. You start panting and moaning. Your noises mix with the moans, groans, and growls he lets out. You cling to him, but also push against him ‘nough to where he moves.
Once he’s sitting on the couch, you climb onto his lap, and rock your hips against his. He places both hands on your hips and holds you tight against him. He latches his mouth onto your neck again. He grinds against your repeatedly until you feel that familiar pressure building low in your tummy.
“You have the – oh fuck – right to fuckin’ come.” He growls, sticking to the cop fantasy.
At his words, you do. You cling to him, arching your hips towards him. He thrusts his own up towards you at the same time his hands force your hips down, and he holds you there.
“(Y/N)!” He shouts.
He drops his head to your shoulder as his fingers relax their grip on your hips. You both pant, relishing in the afterglow of y’all’s releases. He lets out a chuckle as he lifts his head.
“I just came in my fuckin’ pants like a horny fuckin’ teenager durin’ his first fuckin’ time.” He teases.
You giggle. “Me too. I’d say you did your job, deputy.”
He growls, playfully. “All in the name of the law, doll. All in the name of the law.”
You giggle and gently kiss him. You run your fingers through his sweat-soaked hair.
“What do you say we take this upstairs, hm?” He asks.
“Only if you answer a question for me.” You say.
“Ok?”
“You didn’t have to go to work, did you?”
He blushes and shakes his head. “No, ma’am. I wanted to surprise you for your birthday, so I told you I had to go to work. Otherwise, it’d have looked funny if I just wore my uniform just for the hell of it.”
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wildroseofarran · 5 years
Text
Good Morning, Cont. || Caldias
Guildias: "I love the way you say my name. I'm going to make you say it a hundred times before you leave this bed."
Guildias sat up so his husband could witness the growth of his fangs.
"Where shall I sink my teeth first?"
Callum: And what an incredibly arousing sight it was. "Here," he whispered, pointing at his neck. "I want you close." I want to hold you. Breathe you in. Play with your hair.
Guildias: He saw no reason to deny him. He crawled back to those lips and captured them. Their hips pressed together with equal need. His canines teased against his tongue, threatened to puncture.
Callum: Callum moaned softly into the kiss, locking his ankles behind his husband's back to keep him right where he wanted him and doing some teasing of his own with short, calculated movements.
Guildias: Callum would hold his husband at bay for only two minutes of intense kissing before Guildias rolled them over. Their kiss was finally broken, taking the druid by the hair, he sank his teeth into flesh and began to drink at his leisure.
Callum: Guildias' reward was a long, soft, very nearly whimpering moan. If Callum hadn't been awake before, he certainly was now.
Hands came up to cradle his vampire to him, immediately disappearing into silky dark hair that was lovingly petted.
Guildias: Every little dulcet noise was an absolute treasure. His wound was licked clean to health. His dark hair nuzzled into.
"I want you to use me. Ride me for my viewing pleasure. Can you do that for me?"
Callum: Complete peace settled over Callum as his husband fed from him. It almost felt like they were floating along in a dream, private and safe and wrapped in warm, languid comfort.
Even the closing of the wound felt like the most erotic thing in the world.
He gave his husband a slow grin. "Aye, love," he whispered, pulling Guildias into another kiss. "I can do that."
Guildias: He wrapped his arm around his husband's waist and pulled him closer. He was possessive. This man belonged to him and him alone.
He then sank into the mattress, cock hard and waiting. "The lube..."
Callum: Callum didn't mind one bit; it made his heart happy when they were so close it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other began.
He placed one more kiss on those beautiful lips before reaching across his husband to get to the bedside table. "I've got it. Here we go." He produced a small bottle. "Which of us is doin' the honors?"
Guildias: "I believe it is my honor. Shall you sit on my face? Shall I press you into the bed?" The bottle was traded between hands. "How do you want me?"
Callum: Guildias would be able to feel the shiver that went through Callum's body at the first suggestion.
And see the blush it caused, which didn't happen too often these days.
Guildias: Of course Guildias was observant. "Sit on my face, Daisy. Whichever way you desire. Let me have you and prepare you."
Callum: Callum could feel his whole body flushing and growing warm. Not to mention very, very aroused.
The only position he could possibly chose was one where he could see his husband's face.
So he stole a kiss for bravery, face red as can be, and carefully straddled his husband's face.
Guildias: He smiled into the kiss, relished the warmth from his blush, caressed perfect skin. He would pay the most attention to his scrotum, to the subtle seam in a near perfect line towards his cock. Two lubricated fingers greeted between his cheeks. His middle finger invaded while he kissed and nibbled. His index finger joined when teeth gingerly teased his thigh.
Callum: He didn't know if it was the new angle or the new position or the situation in general, but Callum felt particularly sensitive to even the lightest of Guildias' touches.
His husband's finger hadn't even breached him and already Callum was holding on to the headboard to keep himself upright, soft, needy little noises escaping any time Guildias touched the exact right spot.
Another shiver ran through him as his vampire's teeth grazed his skin. This was so intimate. He felt completely exposed and protected and tense and relaxed all at once.
Guildias: "Do you like that?" his Setite purred against him. From his angle, seeing Callum's expression was impossible; those noises explained what he had yet to articulate. He smiled, hummed, and licked from scrotum to tip. Both fingers dug as deeply as Callum's body allowed, come-hithering within.
Callum: Callum gave a jerky nod, hiding his face in his arm to muffle the nearly obscene moan that wanted to come out. He could feel his husband's smile against his erection, could picture it in his mind.
He didn't realize his hips were moving in time with Guildias' fingers, trying to make them brush against his prostate and crying out the moment they did. He wanted more. Wanted his husband deeper.
Guildias: "You're so beautiful," he praised. "Look at yourself. Look at what you've done to me."
Though it was not his end request, having Callum in his current position was satisfying in its own right. Another finger filled him. His free hand explored his thighs, his stomach, the head of his erection.
"What if I make you cum right here and now?"
Callum: The only response Callum gave was a whimper that wanted so very much to become a moan. Which it did when his husband's hand found his shaft again.
He could feel himself start to leak, feel a familiar desperate tension building in his legs and groin and lower back.
Callum bore down on his vampire's ringers. "Guildias...." he managed, voice sounding strained.
Guildias: Callum would find no relief from his husband. His tone was nothing if not coy. He had every intention of sending his man into a sexual frenzy. "What is it?" Again, his fingers pressed and coaxed his prostate.
Callum: The delicious shock of pleasure prevented him from speaking again.  Callum was bearing down in earnest now, wordlessly begging his husband for more while the whines and whimpers that fell from his lips warned that he wouldn't be able to handle much more before crying out and spilling all over himself.
Guildias: He would fulfill his true intention. Today, the ethereal druid would tax all energy. Just as his husband desired, he would become incapable of standing, let alone leaving the bed. Spill your seed. Cry out as loudly as you require. My fingers will not cease until you have given me every last drop.
"Beautiful." He nuzzled into his scrotum, squeezed the last tear from his tip.
Callum: Callum gave one final whimpering moan as Guildias drew the last of his release from him. His skin felt hot and sensitive and sweaty and every one of his muscles felt like jelly.
He took a deep breath and swore softly in Gaelic as he leaned heavily on the headboard, trying to catch his breath.
"Can't move," he said with a soft chuckle.
Guildias: "Not at all?" His husband played dumb. "I have you. Relax." Carefully he was pushed back, sitting up along the way until Callum was safely in his arms, in his lap. "There you are."
Callum: "Couldn't relax any more if I tried."
Callum melted into his husband's embrace and settled in, humming softly. "Here I am." He kissed Guildias' chest. "I love you."
Guildias: "I love you." That beautiful face was caressed. Absolute angel.
"My sweet Daisy, you have less energy than I anticipated. I'm afraid you'll be getting only one orgasm this morning."
Callum: He smiled softly up at his husband and leaned into his hand. "Still wakin' up. Give me an hour and I'll be brimmin' with energy."
Guildias: "So you're telling me I must make you breakfast in bed?"
Callum: "If the spirit so moves you it would be terribly rude o' me to disoblige," he said with a grin.
Guildias: "You manipulative daisy. Are you sure you're not a dandelion?"
Callum: He laughed softly. "I'm only a dandelion if I don't offer ye breakfast in return. And wear somethin' pretty for you while I do it."
Guildias: "I would prefer you in nothing but a flower crown."
Callum: "That can also be arranged."
Guildias: "Let's see how quickly," Callum was flipped onto the mattress on his belly, "you can make one while I cook."
Callum: Another laugh followed the change of position.
He reached for the vase of flowers that he always kept on the bedside table and selected his flowers.
Guildias: Guildias headed into the kitchen, naked, assembling the ingredients for a simple omelet with mushrooms, herbs, and whatever else he could find in the fridge. Leftover chicken made sense, probably.
Callum: Callum made himself comfortable on the bed, idly weaving daisies and heather together as he thought of his husband.
When Guildias returned, it would be to Callum with the completed crown on his head, dozing peacefully.
Guildias: His breakfast was carried in tray...and set aside at the sight of his sleeping husband. Quietly, he climbed back into bed, pressing himself against Callum's back.
Callum: His eyes cracked open the tiniest bit as he felt the bed shift with Guildias' weight.
"Well hello there," he murmured softly, snuggling against his husband.
Guildias: "Hello, Daisy. Asleep this whole time?"
Callum: "Just driftin'." He smiled. "Do you like my flower crown?"
Guildias: "I wish I could paint you."
Callum: "I'll bet you could."
Guildias: "It would be quite abstract."
Callum: "I'd love to see yer abstract interpretation o' me."
Guildias: "Someday, muse." He kissed between his eyes and sighed.
Callum: Callum hummed softly, nuzzling his husband. He inhaled. "That smells bloody amazin'. What did you make me?"
Guildias: "Ah. What you smell is a hobo's farm omelet. Chicken, herbs, mushroom. And just a touch of...whatever...that white cheese was in the fridge."
Callum: He giggled. "Did you just say 'hobo'?"
Guildias: "I did say hobo. The chicken is leftovers."
Callum: "Is that the hobo part?" he asked, covering his lap before setting the tray on it.
He took a bite and immediately smiled. "Amazin'."
Guildias: "I never in my human life had leftovers." He stretched out on the bed with his hands behind his head
Callum: "Really? I've always loved leftovers. My da will get a pizza and no' touch it until the next day."
Guildias: "What's the point in that?"
Callum: "He likes it better when it's leftover."
Guildias: "But what does that mean? What difference does it make?”
Callum: "Fairly big one. Leftover pizza is fantastic and hard to describe."
Guildias: He shook his head. "It's congealed cheese." Shame on you, druid.
Callum: Callum giggled again and kissed his husband's cheek.
Guildias: "You're rewarding my criticism," he smiled.
Callum: "I just can't get over you sayin' 'hobo'. Such an unrefined word for my beautiful, sexy, refined husband."
Guildias: "The dish required a name. When one uses leftovers, one must resort to unrefined," he teased.
Callum: “Unrefined and absolutely delicious.” Guildias was given another kiss.
Guildias: "You're spoiled. Eat your breakfast."
Callum: “I am spoiled. By you,” he added with a smile, finishing off his food. “I approve of the hobo omelet.”
Guildias: "What else shall I serve you, Daisy?"
Callum: "Hmmmm....." Callum made a great show of pondering his husband's question. "I think I'll have....a kiss."
Guildias: "I meant grocery shopping or sex on the beach, but..." Callum's chin was taken, pulling him into what he desired.
Callum: He hummed softly against Guildias’ lips. “Sex on the beach is good too. We’ll do that later.”
Guildias: "And on the docks behind your house, and in the river."
Callum: Callum chuckled. “And in my boat, and in the moonlight garden.”
Guildias: "Our weekend to-do list," he smiled.
Callum: “Where should we start, husband mine?”
Guildias: "The furthest out and work our way in?"
Callum: “Sounds good to me. We’ll sail out somewhere nice and private.”
Guildias: Sooner rather than later. "You're finished with breakfast?"
Callum: “Aye. Ready for a sail?”
Guildias: "How far shall we go?"
Callum: “Just far enough for complete privacy.”
Guildias: "How many times will you lose your wits today?" The vampire smiled, and stretched out over the disheveled bed.
Callum: “How many times will you make me lose my wits, husband mine?” Callum replied, stretching out beside his vampire and snuggling against him.
Guildias: Oh yes. They were indeed moving at snail speed.
"As many times as it takes until your legs tuck from under you."
Callum: He chuckled softly. “Goin’ for a record, are we?”
Guildias: "It's long overdue."
Callum: “Mmm, yes it is.” He sat up and grabbed his robe from where it hung on the bedpost. This was all he planned to wear today.
Guildias: "To the docks? On the boat?"
Callum: He simply nodded, easing off the bed with a wicked grin. “The benefits of havin’ yer own private dock.”
Guildias: "With nothing underneath that?"
Callum: “With nothin’ underneath that.”
Guildias: "Let's not waste the waking hours, then." His rear was given a firm slap on the way past to the master bathroom.
Callum: “We’re goin’ to make the best of every second,” Callum chuckled.
Despite his desire to remain in only his robe, he made sure to grab a blanket before they went out on the boat, purely for comfort’s sake. Along the same vein, sailing naked required slightly more care than sailing clothed but he liked to think he made good job of it, even going so far as to take them to a tiny, secluded island a good ways into the sound.
Guildias: Guildias tied his hair into a bun for the occasion. Callum, clad in his birthday suit. His husband dressed in worn jeans, black shoes, belt, and red sweater. The sweater was insurance, should Callum find himself too exposed. A pair of swim trunks had been neatly folded and tucked away as well.
"I cannot swim for long today. I'm almost out of my ointment."
Callum: "Along the western side o' the island there's a cove that's shielded by rocky shoreline. Hopefully the sun won't be as be as bad there." He leaned over to kiss his husband. "And if it is I'll just make it cloudy."
Guildias: "Does the forecast call for clouds this week? You're giving every weatherman a terrible reputation in these parts."
Callum: "He's used to it," Callum chuckled. "But in this case, aye, there are some in the forecast. Supposed to storm as well."
Guildias: "Well, his integrity will remain intact today." Just beneath a thin smear of ointment lay a patient frenzy. The jar slid about in its hidden compartment on the small boat.
"Cold?"
Callum: "It will indeed." Already Callum was going through the ritual of letting his magic in and calling the clouds, a sight Guildias would've witnessed on many occasions.
"No, I'm fine. The air is on the pleasant side of cool."
Guildias: "It'll worsen the more you breathe your spells."
Callum: "I've got the robe and blanket if it gets too bad."
Guildias: "And this sweater."
Callum: “You wore that sweater for me?”
Guildias: "You know I did."
Callum: Callum smiled and offered another kiss. “I’m fine, love.”
Guildias: "For now. And when you're not you will be."
Callum: "I will indeed with you lookin' out for me." Just one more kiss before he devoted his attention to the sailboat once more.
They were approaching the island and he needed to start carefully maneuvering the rocky shoreline.
Guildias: Guildias turned his attention towards starboard, resting on edge until brought to a full stop. With no docks, he turned and smiled. "Shall I throw you in?"
Callum: Callum grinned back and shed his robe, naked as the day he was born once more.
"If you can catch me!" he said before diving into the water.
Guildias: "Really?" he laughed. He did away with his sweater and jeans, and into the water he followed. The white salty froth carried with it dead leaves and a fresh scent not found closer inland. The vampire leaned back and soaked in the morning sun denied to him for so long.
Callum: "Yes really!" Callum called, making a lazy lap around the boat as he waited for his husband to join him and swimming over to him as soon as he had.
"Is the sun too much?" he asked, kissing Guildias' shoulder.
Guildias: "I feel it, itching my chest, my lips. I took so long, so much ointment for this swim. It was worth it. Next will have to be at night, though."
Callum: “Is it somethin’ I could make more of for you?”
Guildias: "The ingredients are from all over the world. One item in particular isn't always available. The ointment hangs on it's availability."
Callum: "Is it a plant or plant derivative?"
Guildias: "I'll show you when home."
Callum: "Please do. I'd love to help you if I can. In some way other than blockin' the sun."
Guildias: "I know the temptation is great, being a druid, but I don't want to burden you."
Callum: "It's no' a burden. Ye're my husband and I have magic."
Guildias: "For all I know your healing touch will cause the opposite effect," he smirked.
Callum: "Never. I can harvest moonlight."
Guildias: "Would you - Do you think you could create your own recipe?"
Callum: Callum nodded. "Definitely. Maybe even create an amulet for emergencies."
Guildias: "I know Matheus has been out and about without ointment. A charm, I believe."
Callum: "Then it's definitely possible. I'm more than confident we can do the same for you."
Guildias: "Do I want to put my faith in a witch, or continue with science?"
Callum: "No' a witch. A druid and science."
Guildias: "Oh yes. You take offense to that," he grinned.
Callum: "No' nearly as much as Bronwyn," said Callum, smiling back.
Guildias: "More witches have been coming to this town as of late."
Callum: "Magic attracts magic. Why do you think I first decided to stay?"
Guildias: "In an Elysium made by a vampire that wanted to collect you."
Callum: "Stayin' lead me to you."
Guildias: "I suppose. Lives are just a collection of moments leading to another."
Callum: "Listen to you, speakin' like a druid." Have another kiss.
Guildias: "I don't want another debate of fate as I had with your cousin," he chuckled.
Callum: "Those debates she has are formidable. But never mind all that. We're here together swimming in this beautiful ocean. That's all that matters."
Guildias: "All that matters?" What strong words from a man with such a gentle face. He was pulled closer by his waist as he floated towards shore.
Callum: "In the here and now, aye. All that matters."
Callum closed his eyes and let himself float along, utterly content.
Guildias: When they came upon the shore, Guildias remained still. He didn't want to break the spell between them, fragile as it were. Soft kisses were places wherever was nearest.
Callum: Days like these were made for fragile, loving spells. For morning sails and soft kisses.
Callum's smile was everything serene, and in that serenity he gave his husband the same affection.
Guildias: The day was exactly as he expected. Callum was drowned in a sea of kisses. He was insatiable, just as he knew he was, just as they should be. He would make love to him on the shore, mouth between his legs, mouth on his neck, mouths together. I love you, he would say, he would praise in every aspect of the man in his arms. This was only the beginning of their hedonistic marathon.
Callum: Out here, surrounded by nothing but Guildias and the sea, Callum let himself be absolutely free. No moan was restrained, no desire kept silent. Here he wasn’t self-conscious, wasn’t shy about begging for his husband’s touch or his kisses or his cock inside him.
And nor was he shy about letting his vampire know exactly how much he loved every moment of it. Had Guildias breath, Callum would be doing his very best to kiss it out of him.
Guildias: Again, as several times before, Guildias had to remind himself that this relationship was nothing more than a beautiful mirage. This love was his, but this love was temporary. Eventually, Callum would have to be returned to his rightful partner.
This perfect man underneath him. This man, this druid, this god. This gift.
"Are you spent, Daisy?"
Callum: Had Callum known of such thoughts he would've chased them as far from his husband's mind as he had his own. What was true in a previous life and what might be true in a future one he didn't know, but in this one, the man on top of him had the whole of his heart.
"In the best way," he murmured, bringing Guildias down for a kiss. "I love you so much."
Guildias: Fingers caressed from forehead to chin. "How much strength do you have?"
Callum: "Give me a few minutes and I'll rarin' to go again." Until then, more kisses, please. He truly did feel insatiable today.
Guildias: "I promise you we will go again, but it's not that."
His arm was brought to view. Rapidly burning a dull shade of pink.
Callum: That brought Callum out of his daze. Oh, that kind of strength.
Fortunately, that tank was full.
He looked around for his robe, draping it over his husband before he went through the ritual of relaxing, letting his magic in, and concentrating on drawing dense gunmetal clouds across the morning sky.
Guildias: He allowed himself to be covered and offered his gratitude the moment the scorch subsided. With the swim and their sexual escapade, much of the ointment had come away, replaced now with thicker darkened scaled skin.
Callum: The electric blue glow didn't subside from his eyes until the sunny sky had turned gray and just dark enough to both soothe his husband's skin and turn the whole atmosphere cozily dreary.
"Better?" he asked a few moments later, pressing gentle kisses to the scaly skin.
Guildias: Not often was Callum allowed to see the serpent skin beneath the glamour. Affection was carefully monitored.
"Better," he echoed. "We should go." Though he didn't bother to move.
Callum: The rarity of seeing such a personal part of his husband only served to make Callum that much more tender and loving with his affection. Just allowing Callum near with his skin in this vulnerable state was the ultimate display of his husband's trust.
"Good." He nodded, placing the next kiss on Guildias' lips. "Are you okay to get back in the water?"
Guildias: "My ointment is on the boat. I have no choice in the matter." Though he braved peeking out from the soaked robe for another kiss. "I should be lazy, and turn myself into a serpent and ride your shoulders."
Callum: Callum smiled softly. "By all means. Easier to hide you from the sun that way."
Guildias: "But then there will be no sex."
Callum: "We have many locations still on our list. The boat will keep until after sunset."
Guildias: "You want me to turn into a serpent?"
Callum: "If it'll make gettin' back to the ship and back home easier on you and yer skin, then aye."
Guildias: "Can you swim with me wrapped around your neck?"
Callum: Callum nodded. "Aye. Just need my arms and legs free and ev'rythin' will be fine."
Guildias: "Fine. Turn around, then."
Callum: "Okay." He'd turn and give his husband some privacy after one last kiss.
Guildias: He didn't want Callum to see his arms disappear, skin sheen, hair slip away. It had been years since his last metamorphose. It was as liberating as it was dangerous. One would become spoiled, as with all disciplines.
The druid would find his vampire bunched in his boxer briefs.
Callum: Having watched Pete turn every full moon for months, Callum couldn't help but wonder if Guildias' transformation was a similar process or if it was different, and if it was, how. At the end of the day it really didn't matter; his husband had his reasons for wanting it to remain private and Callum wasn't going to question it.
He turned back and smiled at the sight of his vampire, gently gathering him up and letting him get comfortable.
"Come on, love. Back we go."
Guildias: Guildias wound himself around Callum's shoulders and clung for dear life. From the perspective of a snake, the swim back to the boat wasn't nearly as calming. Still, the thrill of it all! He was suddenly reluctant to change back. Perhaps this should be how he spends his final days. The humiliation of Rötschreck and frenzy...he could live in some relative peace.
The snake rested its head against the druid’s shoulder, seemingly relaxing.
Callum: Callum couldn't remember ever having swum as carefully as he was now. He made sure to go slowly, keeping as much of his shoulders above the water as possible.
"We're almost there, love."
A few moments later he was climbing back up the ladder on the boat.
Guildias: The snake could not speak in this form. Truth kept to himself, he did not understand every aspect of this form as he would like. More evidence of his laziness. He would wait for Callum to set him aside before returning to form. There was no rush.
Callum: Even though the sun had been hidden away, Callum would continue to take his precautions. He carefully set Guildias down in a spot that would be shaded by the sail should the sun reappear so he could change back safely. His robe was placed behind his husband also.
"There we go. Let's head home and hope no one's lookin' at the naked man sailin'."
Guildias: With his back turned, Callum would not see or hear the transformation. He would feel hands on his waist some minutes later. His back pressed to the vampire's chest. His hair was kissed, chin resting on his shoulder. A feat for one so tall.
"Home already?"
Callum: He hummed softly and leaned back against his husband, basking in his nearness.
"No' yet. Won't be too long though, the wind's pickin' up." He turned his head to press a kiss to Guildias' temple. "How was yer transformation?"
Guildias: "My arms and legs tingle afterwards. Always." The kiss was returned in kind. "You control the wind. Why is it so restless?"
Callum: Callum smiled. "My control is used sparin'ly. Like givin' the town snow and protectin' you from the sun."
Guildias: "So the wind is not your doing?"
Callum: "It is no'," he said with a shake of his head. "Just the clouds. If the wind gets strong enough it'll blow them away."
Guildias: "We can't have anything blown away," he nodded, softly biting Callum's shoulder.
Callum: "We certainly can't." He nuzzled his vampire. "We're almost home. How does yer skin feel?"
Guildias: "Warm. I'll last to the house, or the next place you want me."
Callum: "Definitely the house." It was already coming into view. "Drape my robe over yerself."
Guildias: "No sex on the boat, husband?" The robe was used as a short cloak.
Callum: "No' until the sun goes down."
Guildias: "That's too long," he smiled with devilish eyes.
Callum: "We've got plenty to do to fill the time," he chuckled.
Guildias: "What do you want to do?"
Callum: "Kiss you all over."
Guildias: "It won't end in kisses." Much like his own, kissing up to Callum's ear.
Callum: “I’m countin’ on it,” he said with a grin, tilting his head to give Guildias better access. “But rest assured, I’m goin’ to take my time with you.”
Guildias: "Well into the night, I hope." He squeezed his pectoral muscles. Teeth threatened a bite. "I feel so insatiable today."
Callum: The silent threat was met with a shiver of anticipation. He would've spurred Guildias on if he wasn't trying to dock safely. "Into the night, into the day, maybe into another night. We should just have a sex marathon until we're both so spent we can't move."
Guildias: "That's my intention," he chuckled. "And then I must nurse you back to health."
Callum: "Yer intention is well met. I'll be naked for days and you'll be verra well fed."
Guildias: "Just as that day underneath the house, in the rain, surrounded by the scent of your flowers. I was already in love with you."
Callum: Callum’s face went soft with fondness and reminiscence.
“Then?” he asked. “When all I’d done is be shy?”
Guildias: "You were and are as your flowers. Something to be cherished."
Callum: He turned to kiss his husband. "I love you."
Guildias: "How often do you prefer telling me that?"
Callum: "A million times per day, although only a few are verbal."
Guildias: "Do you feel actions speak louder than words?"
Callum: "I just don't want to start seemin' like a broken record or...annoy you by constantly sayin' it."
Guildias: "But is it what you want to do?"
Callum: "I'd tell you all day long every single day if I could. Any time I think of you and it bubbles up inside me."
Guildias: His husband smiled. "Try it for a day and see if you feel exhausted."
Callum: "You won't mind a bunch of 'I love you' texts?"
Guildias: "Not at all. They will be evidence weighed when I do something horrific."
Callum: Callum chuckled and kissed Guildias' cheek again. "Or simply somethin' that makes you smile."
Guildias: "You make me smile." Nothing more to add. With or without the words he understood Callum's affection and devotion.
Callum: "Such a romantic he is." One more kiss for his husband before he had to prepare to dock. They'd returned home, and just in time. He could see patches of blue sky in the horizon where the wind had blown his clouds away.
Guildias: "We see romance differently," he smirked, sliding his tongue from neck to ear. "Must we leave the boat?"
Callum: "Yer skin will burn if we don't," he said dreamily. And yet he couldn't bring himself to move away from that naughty, seeking tongue. "I need to anchor the boat."
Guildias: "I'll anchor if you give us thirty more minutes."
Callum: "Mm, what do you plan to do for those thirty minutes, husband mine?"
Guildias: "Swallow you whole?" he grinned.
Callum: "In half an hour?" Callum grinned back. "Verra ambitious husband."
Guildias: "Half an hour to make you cum? Of course I can. I can do it in five."
Callum: "You seem verra confident." And very correct. Callum had no doubt his husband could do it in five minutes. Maybe even less. "I think we're goin' to have to put yer theory to the test. For...science."
Guildias: Then he would turn around, quietly, and drop anchor. And then he would drop to his knees.
"Come here to me."
Callum: Callum glanced toward the horizon while Guildias secured the anchor. No matter his lust, he wouldn't risk exposing his husband.
Luckily the blue was still merely a sliver, so he obediently stepped closer to his husband. Naked as he was there was nothing to conceal his anticipation over what was to come.
Guildias: "Hands behind your back," he whispered, waiting with patient eyes for obedience.
Callum: Obedience was immediate, though his eyes betrayed his disappointment at the prospect of not being able to touch his vampire's hair.
Guildias: Such obedience would not be abused. This was all in good fun. The thrill of restraint only to unleash when the yearning overwhelmed all sense.
"Close your eyes."
Callum: Eyes closed with a smile.
Guildias: "Spread your legs by two feet."
Callum: He couldn't tell whether it was two feet, but Callum spread his feet. Would another command follow? Or would commands be replaced by Guildias' mouth?
Guildias: He would feel a lingering kiss just below his navel. The area in which he had bitten years ago.
"You are my Daisy."
Callum: The memory had been lovingly preserved in Callum's memory, just as an image of his namesake was etched into his skin not far from his husband's lips.
"Yes, I am," he murmured. "And proudly and happily so."
Guildias: Kisses circled around the mark painted mindfully into his skin, while hands caressed and pulled him into embrace.
"For the rest of your life, you will be my Daisy."
Callum: Callum’s hands itched with the need to touch his husband, to take that beautiful face in his hands and cover it with kisses.
“I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’ve been thinkin’ of gettin’ an anemone on the other side.”
Guildias: "So far away from you?" he smiled.
Callum: “I could be really cliché and put you over my heart.”
Guildias: "Do you not care what people might say?"
Callum: “No’ even a wee bit.”
Guildias: "Put the tattoo where you want."
Callum: “There might be a bald patch in my chest hair for a couple of weeks.”
Guildias: "But you want it on your hip."
Callum: “Eventually I plan to have an entire garden on my body, filled with many anemones.”
Guildias: "And daisies." Another kiss to his stomach, this time to the very tattoo.
Callum: “And daisies,” he repeated softly, bending to try to kiss his husband’s head.
Guildias: "What are you doing?" he purred.
Callum: “Kiss in’ my husband.”
Guildias: "Did I say you could move?"
Callum: Callum straightened and bit back a smile.
Guildias: "Who do you belong to?"
Callum: "I belong to you, husband mine."
Guildias: Good man. "Touch yourself. Slowly. Tell me what you imagine."
Callum: Callum freed one hand, tentatively taking himself and not quite stroking. If he stroked this would be over far too quickly. How far he'd come from the shy man letting a stranger pleasure him in the rain.
"You," he whispered as his cheeks flushed a pale rose. Then again, maybe not so far. "I imagine you, wrapped all around me."
Guildias: "All around you?" Fingertips traced from thigh to scrotum and across to the other side. "Am I holding you from behind? Am I warm?"
Callum: "Aye." Guildias' touch was infinitely more arousing than his own and his body came alive in response. "No, no' from behind. On top of me. My legs are wrapped around yer waist, yer skin feels like the ocean on a hot day."
Guildias: "You're always so warm and yet soft as your petals. Especially here," around his inner thighs. "Am I kissing you?" Like this, soft deliberate kisses against his cock, stomach, and hip. He couldn't tear his gaze from his astounding beauty.
Callum: Soft yes, and sensitive as well. The gentlest touch had the muscles underneath jumping in anticipation.
Callum moaned so softly it was almost a sigh. His eyes closed, brow furrowed. "No' there. Only yer hand is there. Yer lips are on my neck and ye're feedin'."
Guildias: Only his hand. He would mimic the fantasy, tightening his fist around the tip as he stood, kissing and nibbling his husband's throat. "Like this?" He would feel the smile against his skin.
Callum: He moaned in time with the increased pressure of his husband's hand. His body's reaction to Guildias' lips was immediate; he seemed to melt, tried to press closer, always closer into those hands, against that beautiful body. "Just like that." The only thing missing was the bed.
Guildias: "Are you ready to use your hands now?" Now, as fangs lightly caressed and threatened his artery. Now, when he mirrored Callum's firm need with the expenditure of vitae.
Callum: No matter how many times they did this, no matter how many times his husband fed from him, that tiny, gentle pressure of fangs against flesh would always make Callum's breath hitch.
"I'm ready," he said, nodding slightly as he finally tightened his grip and his hand began to stroke, slowly but with purpose.
Guildias: The amount he could drink without harming his husband was down to a science. Years together, and he knew that hitched breath, the tightening of his abdominal muscles, the throb of his cock. His limit would soon be reached, and his reward of lips swiftly given. The white marks of claim would cover his body and face, sullying his pristine image as he dropped back to his knees.
Callum: There was something deliriously beautiful about the simultaneous familiarity and thrill of his husband feeding from him, of the rush of pure pleasure and tenderness he felt giving Guildias what he needed while also indulging himself. He would never, ever tire of it.
Callum let himself get lost in his husband, feeling his impending orgasm but not feeling any of the urgency. He wanted to savor all that Guildias gave him, from his bite to his touch and finally to those beautiful lips giving his body what it craved. His vampire was rewarded with soft moans and even softer whimpers and within moments, with Callum's release.
Guildias: His husband smiled up at him, appeased by the sexual offering, though as Callum would know, his satiation was temporary. He would demand more before sundown. For now, he tasted what he had gathered from his chest. The druid was strong, but he was ready to catch him should his body fail him.
"Are you alright?"
Callum: Callum gave an absent nod, smiling back at his vampire. He was swaying ever so slightly on his feet but he was still upright.
"We should go in. The sun's comin' for you, husband mine."
Guildias: "Allow me to gaze a few more moments. Had I a heart it would still at the sight of you like this."
Callum: He gave a breathless laugh. "You do have a heart. I just happen to have it."
Guildias: "Are you insinuating you stole it?"
Callum: "A wee bit. It has a verra nice home in my chest next to mine."
Guildias: "No. It's not there. I have your heart."
Callum: “Well we’re just a couple o’ thieves, aren’t we?”
Guildias: "I am a thief, and I'm proud of my kleptomania."
Callum: “And I’m infinitely glad for it.”
Guildias: "How is your body; are you drained?"
Callum: “Literally? Aye. Figuratively? I feel bloody lovely.”
Guildias: "Then I still have more to steal from you."
Callum: Callum laughed again. “Och, aye. We have the whole day planned, remember? Come on, let’s go in.”
Guildias: "Lead the way, Daisy."
Callum: He gave his husband a quick kiss and took his husband's hand, only pausing to make sure the boat was tied securely before leading them back inside the house and away from the encroaching sun.
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