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jintaka-hane · 2 months

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Two Days (Beckman x f!Reader)

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Pairing: benn beckman x f!reader Summary: The first mate of the Red Force and yourself have been navigating a long-distance relationship for quite some time. As he docks at your port, you have two precious days for a reunion. During his stay, both of you will recall the day you first crossed paths: a dreadful evening where nothing unfolded as anticipated. Word Count: 5735 Notes: This is my contribution to 'The Great Beckmaning'! It was a looooooot of fun to write, and I'm considering writing about what happened after the tavern brawl, hehe. My gift for the Beckman’s wives army! PS: Not being a native speaker, there may be errors, but I have put all my heart into it, bear with me! Warnings: Mild NSFW, father!beckman x mother!reader, established relationship, one sided enemies to lovers, shanks being silly, misunderstanding, longing, kissing, petting, domesticity, fluff, mentions of alcohol, guns, cigarettes, swearing, mention of pregnancy.

Taglist: @i-am-vita @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @lourvedreams @atinymonbebestay @ici-spicy @firefistussy

Songs that inspired me: First Light, Forgotten Voyage, The Arena, Lindsey Stirling

"You sure you can manage without me?" he asked, a familiar look of concern crossing his face.

"For the fifth time, Beck, YEEES!" bellowed the pirates of the Red Force in unison.

"I've left some instructions for…" he handed a note to the men, but everyone avoided taking it.

"Beck! We'll be fine, trust me!” Shanks pushed him down off the ship.

“But… the hole in the starboard bow needs…”

“AYE!! SHOVE OFF, BECK!”

"A’right, a’right…. behave yourselves. Especially you,” he added, gazing towards the captain.

"Enjoooooy! Don't worry about aaaanything… and give her my regards," Shanks said, winking.

And the second in command of the Red Force disembarked, unsure of what he would find upon his return.

It was a port he knew like the back of his hand, in a fishing village neither too small nor too large, populated by smiling and friendly folk.

He walked through a bustling square where locals sold their wares—a display of colorful fruits, fresh fish from the morning catch, and an eclectic array of handmaded items. In one corner, a quaint bakery beckoned with the tempting aroma of freshly baked pastries. He entered and bought the ones he thought you would like the most.

With the bag in hand, he continued down the street until he reached a modest yet charming house. He grasped the doorknob and turned it, the familiar creak of the door indicating that it was not locked. With a gentle push, the door swung open.

He had warned you countless times about the importance of securing your home, yet you never seemed to heed his advice. However, he wouldn't scold you this time. Not when it had been three long months since your last meeting, and he only had two precious days to enjoy your company.

"Y/n?" He called out to you, but there was no response.

His steps carried him first to the kitchen. He placed the bag of pastries he had purchased upon the counter, a surprise awaiting you. As his eyes scanned the room, he noticed that the wooden frame of a window needed repair, and that the pantry door wasn't closing properly. He would attend to that later.

He then made his way to the living room where he found you. Your graceful form was reclined upon the couch, peacefully lost in slumber. The way your hair spilled over the cushions, your chest rising and falling in rhythmic breaths, and the flawless complexion of your face adorned with a faint smile in repose, rendered you truly breathtaking. A pang of longing gripped his chest, proof to the months he had spent yearning for you. But these two days together would surely mend any distance between you.

Beside you laid a beautiful baby girl, her eyes wide with innocence and curiosity as she gazed up at him with a smile.

"Here you’re, little one. I've missed you," he murmured, scooping her up into his arms and holding her close. With care, he raised her up to meet her gaze, marveling at the sight before him.

“So pretty... must have inherited your mother's genes, otherwise I wouldn't believe it with a father like me...".

The baby giggled at him, reaching out to touch the x-shaped scar on his face, but then her expression grew serious, her cheeks flushing red. A peculiar odor began to permeate the room, making Beckman chuckle.

"Ok, ok, let's change ya," he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

He carried her to the bedroom, where he knew all the diapers and baby wipes were kept. With utmost care, he cradled the baby in one arm while using the other to retrieve the baby changer from your dressing table. Placing the baby, who giggled once more, in the changer, he gently removed her clothes and diaper. With ease, he cleaned her with a wipe, dried her tenderly with a soft towel, applied cream, and secured a clean diaper in place.

It was a curious sight to behold Benn Beckham, a rugged pirate of the seas known for his strength and fierceness, handling and caring for a delicate baby with such tenderness.

Once the baby was dressed, they made their way to the kitchen, disposed of the soiled diaper, and returned to the living room. Beckman settled into a rocking chair beside the couch, cradling the baby close. He hummed a sea shanty as a lullaby in his deep voice, stealing glances at you from time to time, careful not to disturb your slumber.

Farewell to the harbor, To my old hometown

Lets all sing out with a Don! As the ship sets sail

Waves of gold and silver dissolve to salty spray

As we all set sail to the ends of the sea…

Gradually, the baby's eyelids drooped until her eyes closed entirely. A smile graced Beckman's lips as he watched her drift off to sleep.

"Sleep tight, princess," he whispered tenderly.

Then, sinking back into the chair, he studied you thoughtfully. How was it that you had never left him all these years? You were a stunning, independent, and strong woman, and he couldn't help but wonder why you had remained by his side. In a town filled with men eager to win your affection, you had never once betrayed him or hinted at parting ways. Perhaps, he mused, this was love after all... And the fact that he returned to you every time he had the opportunity was his way to show you that he loved you back. And he always will.

As he admired your poised figure, memories of the day you had first crossed paths flooded his mind. What a chaotic mess it had been...

*** *** ***

It was shaping up to be a real wretched day. Shanks, in his usual state of inebriation, exhibited an unusual level of clumsiness, leaving him feeling like a caretaker tending to an unruly child. Whenever the captain sank into such a state, the crew inevitably followed suit, burdening him with additional duties both aboard and ashore. Having remained docked in the same port for a week, their departure was scheduled for the morrow, yet Shanks, in his folly, proposed a return to the tavern they had frequented the day before. Once more. The man seemed insatiable in his thirst for drink, oblivious to his prior excesses. With a sigh, Beckman acquiesced, resigned to another evening spent in the tavern...

The evening unfolded in customary fashion at the bar, with men swaying clumsily to the music and belting out off-key tunes. The crash of shattered glass echoed through the room as drinks slipped from careless hands, earning disapproving glances from the tavern's owner. Finding solace in a secluded corner, he ordered a pint of ale, lit a cigarette, and scanned the room in search of distraction.

Idiots, the lot of them, he mused.

His gaze wandered until it suddenly fixated on something that caught his attention. Across from him, nestled in a quiet corner, sat an intriguing woman, effortlessly beautiful and serene amidst the chaos. Engrossed in a book, she sipped at her drink, while a bag of pastries from a nearby bakery lay at her feet.

Must be one hell of a book to keep her absorbed in a joint like this.

He chuckled softly, entertained by the improbable sight of such a striking lady amidst the tavern's humble surroundings. She seemed to be alone. Could she perhaps provide him with some stimulating company for the evening? Surely, she would be the most engaging conversationalist in the room. It was worth a try.

However, before making any advances, a habitual reflex led him to gauge his captain's interest in her. His eyes swept the room until they settled on Shanks, who was engrossed in merriment with Roux and the others, urging him on with raucous cheers of 'Drink! Drink! Drink!'

Well, he thought, it seems she is mine for the takin’.

With a nod to the barman, he summoned him over.

“Boy, fetch that lady another round of whatever she's havin’. Put it on my tab,”' he instructed. The boy acknowledged the order and set off to fulfill it.

He observed from afar the woman's reaction when she received her pint of stout, the way her eyebrows arched in surprise. She glanced toward him as the barman gestured in his direction. Meeting her gaze, he raised his glass in greeting, only to receive a disdainful snort in return before she returned her attention to her book.

Darn. Not the smoothest start...

He felt a mixture of irritation and intrigue, but he was reluctant to come across as the sort of man who embarrasses himself by persisting in front of a woman's indifference. So he made an effort to brush it off, attempting to ignore her and the way she had rejected him with such disinterest.

As he tried to shift his focus, his mind wandered to the tasks awaiting him before the next day's departure. He made mental notes to check the main mast, which had been damaged in an attack, and ensure that the cargo was securely arranged, wary of any imbalance that could jeopardize the ship's stability.

He hadn't been listing his tasks for even five minutes when he noticed that Shanks had also become aware of the presence of the woman and was approaching her, stumbling toward her table with an oversized grin. With a gesture he likely deemed elegant, he extended his hand.

"Evenin’, sweetheart. I've come to rescue you from the clutches of boredom that book must be inflicting upon you. Care to dance?"

"Get lost," she shot back without even sparing him a glance.

Beckman chuckled.

The red pirates howled.

Shanks placed a hand over his heart, feigning heartbreak, then turned to the crew and erupted into laughter with the others.

“Bad luck, cap’n!!” one man shouted.

Turning back to her, Shanks remarked, "Well, I'll take that as a no, then. What are you drinking? Want another?"

"No, thank you" she replied firmly, and to further encourage him to depart, she added, "I've already been offered a beer by another man," smiling proudly at her own response.

"Oh? Is that so? I must be late then... And who might this gentleman be, sweetheart? I'm curious," he pressed.

With an air of indifference, she slowly pointed in his direction, causing him visible discomfort.

Shit.

Shanks and the entire crew turned their attention to him. Shanks's eyes widened, and after several moments of silence, the room erupted in laughter once more.

Despite knowing Shanks well enough to understand that his actions were not intended to ridicule him, he couldn't help but feel exposed and irked by the situation.

"Well, let's all raise a glass to our first mate!" Shanks declared, breaking the tension. "MAY HE BE LUCKY!".

"HEAR, HEAR!" echoed throughout the room as everyone raised their glasses, some of them whistling.

The captain turned once more to the woman, leaning in to whisper something in her ear. Then, with a broad grin, he directed his attention back to Beckman, raising his fist with his thumb pointed upward and offering a clumsy wink. And with that, he rejoined the men, who erupted into cheers.

Beckman pinched the bridge of his nose. As a man who valued the discretion of his affairs, he couldn't shake off the sense of shame engulfing him.

Perhaps he should go and offer an apology on behalf of his captain, then simply leave her be. That would be a good idea... so he did just that, approaching her table and pulling up a chair to sit beside her.

Drawing nearer, he couldn't resist stealing a better look at her. Her lips and delicate complexion caught his attention. His gaze inevitably wandered to her curves, wondering what it would be like to lose himself between those thighs. His thoughts took an improper turn, thoughts that he knew would trouble his sleep that night. Shaking off them, he reminded himself of his purpose: a simple apology. But before he could utter a word, she spoke nonchalantly.

"You never give up, do you?"

A’right, she's certainly a tough one. Attractive and pretending to be out of reach.

He left the chair on the floor and kept a calm smile.

"Doll, I just wanted to apologize for..."

"Doll?" She raised her eyes, interrupting him. "Fuck off, you drunkard. I hate pirates, you are all scum".

His smile faltered as her words caught him off guard.

"For someone who despises pirates, you speak like one, woman," he said, and glancing at the four empty glasses on the table he added. "And drink like one too..."

She shot him a lethal glare, and he raised his hands in surrender. "A’right, a’right, I'll leave you be."

Disappointed, he made his way back to his table. He was taking his seat when he spotted a group of men entering the tavern, armed and wearing expressions of menace. Their faces twisted into grimaces that spoke of hostility and a readiness for conflict and it appeared that they outnumbered their own group.

Not good, he muttered to himself.

They advanced through the crowd, shoving people roughly, taunting them, snatching their glasses and draining them defiantly in front of their angry stares. Tension hung thick in the air... and it reached a breaking point when one of them seized a chair, hoisted it into the air, and without giving anyone a chance to react, brought it crashing down onto Yassop's back. He cried out in pain and cursed.

"What's wrong with ya, ya scurvy dog?!"

Fuck.

The atmosphere grew heavier with tension, fists tightening, jaws clenching, and guns aimed at one another. Beckman instinctively reached for his rifle, drawing it from his sash.

"Beck? You still with us?" Shanks called him out, staying calm.

"Right 'ere".

“Please, no slaughter!" shouted the tavern owner.

Briefly, Beckman’s thoughts drifted to the lady, now frightened and huddled against the wall with her eyes fixed on the distant exit door, unattainable and out of reach. She was trapped. With long strides, he placed himself between the crowd and her, a protective barrier.

"Stay behind me”.

Damn, if she wasn't even willing to talk to him before, she surely would never want to see him again after what she was going to witness.

As one of the pirates moved toward him with a knife in one hand and a broken bottle in the other, intent on attacking, Beckman plucked the cigarette from his mouth with two fingers and flicked it toward one of his eyes. The ashes danced through the air with a spark before landing on their target.

“Don’t get cocky”.

And then chaos erupted.

*** *** ***

Back to the present, his mind wandered back to the same question that haunted him every time he saw you. What if he quitted everything and chose to stay with you? Didn't he deserve some happiness? He liked his life at sea but missed you terribly. And the baby, she surely needed him; as her father, it was his duty to raise her. But would you want that too? After all, you chose your path, and he, his…

Did you even need him? Perhaps not... he knew you managed perfectly well on your own. However, the red-haired one did need him and maybe that was the main reason he wouldn't bring himself to stay. No, for now, he couldn't stay, and both of you knew that, despite the yearning you held for each other.

Maybe one day... in the future... he could sort things out, he could even ask you to be officially his wife -would you accept?-, and build a home for your family, far from the dangers that came with a price on your head.

He rose from his seat and carefully placed the baby in a cradle that had been placed in the living room. Then, he made his way to the furthest window of the room, opened it to prevent bothering the baby with smoke, and retrieved a match and a cigarette. With practiced ease, he lit it and took a drag, inhaling deeply as he stared out of the window.

You opened your eyes, taking a few seconds to focus your gaze until you saw him. His unexpected presence caught you off guard.

A smile spread across your lips as you admired the sight: his broad shoulders outlined against the light, the curve of his neck, the way his now slightly gray hair was tied back in a ponytail... Throughout the years, he had continued to dress simply, wearing a black shirt and a yellow sash in which he usually kept a weapon. A tough and threatening appearance concealing a kind heart and a good man.

Relishing in the moment, you continued to observe him as memories of the day you first met flooded back. What a disaster it had been.

*** *** ***

You were enduring a dreadful day.

You had poured an entire year working very hard to open a bookstore, spending all your savings and efforts on finding a location, negotiating prices with suppliers, and advertising to make yourself known in the town. It was months of hard work and effort and it had only been a week since you opened. While business could have been better, you were not doing badly.

But that morning all your dreams were dashed, a group of pirates stormed into the town and set fire to several shops just for fun. From your bookstore, you could only save one copy, the one you happened to have in your bag at that moment.

You HATED pirates.

Seeking solace, you went to the tavern to have a drink and give your brain a break. You were overthinking too much about your future and were exhausted and moody. You wanted to be alone, so you didn't doll up—no makeup, no provocative dress, nothing—to keep idiots away from you.

As you sat there, already on your third pint of black beer, a group of pirates swaggered into the tavern.

That's all I needed... A bunch of brutes... And they're already drunk? Mmh not surprised.

You considered leaving the tavern, but no, you weren't going to be driven out by a bunch of thugs. You just wanted to relax a bit, and those drunkards didn't seem like a real threat. You thought that if you pretended to read the book you managed to save from the fire, no one would try to approach you, so you seized it and set it on the table.

Until now, with the rush, you hadn't had a chance to inspect it. Flipping it over, you were met with a cover depicting a suggestive scene—a blonde-haired woman in a purple dress, her knee on the lap of a sun-bronzed, bare-chested man, unmistakably a pirate, while lavender-hued letters announced:

'How to Seduce Pirates, Part 2 (Take Him to Bed)"

A flush crept up your cheeks.

Seriously? Out of an arsenal of nearly 3000 books, I could only save this one?

Surely, it wasn't the kind of book you'd want to find yourself reading in a setting like this… but there was no other choice.

The atmosphere crackled chaotic, a symphony of raucous voices and clinking glasses filling the air. Men, their movements awkward and uncoordinated, swayed to the music, their off-key singing punctuated by the sharp sound of breaking glass. 'Drink! Drink! Drink!' they chanted, their voices rising above the chaos.

Amidst the tumult, maintaining the pretense of reading became an arduous task. You sighed deeply, the book in your hands a shield against the uproar. Not even five minutes had passed when the barman addressed you.

"Here you have, ma'am," you glanced up at the boy, noticing him set a beer on your table and gesture towards the man who had ordered it: a pirate, of course. A tall one, with black hair tied back in a ponytail. He smiled kindly at you, lifting his drink.

You really weren't in the mood.

What an arrogant prick, how dare he disturb me like that? I'm not even going to thank him...

You snorted and redirected your attention back to the book. But glancing at the pages, your mind tricked you and started conjuring up images of the man.

Alright, he's attractive, I'll give him that. With that black t-shirt barely covering his chest.

That

Chest

Maybe I'm being stubborn and could just talk with him.

That might help me forget my problems... even if just for one night…

I could rip off his sash in one pull and see what's underneath...

NO.

He's a pirate.

Absolutely not.

No way.

Never.

You were lost in your thoughts when a red-haired man with a big smile stumbled over to your table. With a clumsy movement, he extended his hand and addressed you.

"Evenin’, sweetheart. I've come to rescue you from the clutches of boredom that book must be inflicting upon you. Care to dance?"

How? And why? Can't they leave me alone?

"Get lost" was the best reply you could muster.

The man put on a little show to make his friends laugh.

“Bad luck, cap’n!!” one man shouted.

Turning back to you, he remarked, "Well, I'll take that as a no, then. What are you drinking? Want another?".

"No, thank you" you replied firmly, and to further encourage him to depart, you added, "I've already been offered a beer by another man".

"Oh? Is that so? I must be late then... And who might this gentleman be, sweetheart? I'm curious," he pressed.

Oh, that black-haired man was going to regret bothering you. With an air of indifference, you slowly pointed in his direction and watched as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The lines of expression beneath his eyes grew deeper and against your will, you thought he was really cute like that.

The red-haired man and the entire crew turned their attention to the uncomfortable man and after several moments of silence, the room erupted in laughter once more.

"Well, let's all raise a glass to our first mate!"

Ah, the first mate.

"MAY HE BE LUCKY!"

He won't be, not with me, anyway.

"HEAR, HEAR!" echoed throughout the room as everyone raised their glasses whistling.

"He is a good man, sweetheart, don't be scared of him," the man whispered in your ear before leaving with his friends, who greeted him. You were a bit shocked and didn't know why, but you sensed that that drunkard meant no harm.

Well, you sighed, not like I am changing my mind. Having already chased away two of them, I'm sure I can continue drinking in solitude.

But you were mistaken, because two minutes later you felt a presence scanning your body.

The first mate.

With a chair in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth, a strand of hair falling over his face.

Oh, for god’s sake…

"You never give up, do you?" you threw at him without taking your eyes off the book. For a moment, you felt him hesitate.

"Doll, I just wanted to apologize for..."

"Doll?" You thought he was mocking you and you exploded, a surge of hatred resurfacing in you. You had tried today to go unnoticed and failed miserably. The memory of your ravaged bookstore brought tears to your eyes, yet you fought to restrain them. And moreover, you felt guilty for being drawn to this man. All you wanted was to distance yourself from him and continue drinking alone.

You did direct your gaze upward, very much upward, honestly, how tall is he? to look at him.

"Fuck off, you drunkard. I hate pirates, you are all scum".

You flinched at your own words and regretted them immediately. Too harsh, even if you wouldn't take them back now.

"For someone who despises pirates, you speak like one, woman" he said, glancing at the four empty glasses on the table he added. "And drink like one too...".

Fair point.

You gave him a deadly look and he raised his hands, defeated. "A’right, a’right, I'll leave you be”.

He turned away and walked off from you, while you stood there wondering if you had been too harsh. Your thoughts were interrupted as you spotted a group of men entering the tavern.

Great, more pirates, you thought, all the same crew, you supposed.

They were armed and wore expressions of menace, appearing unfriendly and eager for conflict.

In a moment of escalation, one of them seized a chair, lifting it high into the air. Without a moment for anyone to intervene, it came crashing down onto the back of another man. His cry of pain mingled with curses as he writhed in agony.

"What's wrong with ya, ya scurvy dog?!"

The tension in the air thickened, fists clenched, jaws tightened, and guns leveled at each other.

You stood up, visibly worried about your safety. Your eyes flickered to the exit door, tucked away in the opposite corner of the room and blocked by the crowd of pirates. It was going to be impossible for you to escape from that place. Where could you possibly go, or hide?

"Beck? You still with us?"

Beck.

"Right ’ere," he answered.

“Please, no slaughter!”

In that moment, you caught sight of the first mate, holding a rifle in one hand and a cigarette still dangling from his mouth, moving toward you as though he intended to shield you.

"Stay behind me," he said over his shoulder.

Damn, minutes before, you didn't even want to talk to him, and now you just wanted to see him again.

As a pirate moved toward you, intent on attacking, the man protecting you plucked the cigarette from his mouth with two fingers and flicked it toward one of the pirates' eyes. The ashes danced through the air with a spark before landing on their target.

“Don’t get cocky”.

And then, the hell started.

*** *** ***

Alright, enough with the nostalgia, you thought, bringing your focus back to the present moment.

Restraining your urge to run towards him and jump into his arms, you pondered over what would be the most fitting greeting for him.

"Benn Beckman, you have balls to smoke near the baby in front of me," you decided to say to him, your arms crossed.

He turned towards you immediately, initially taken aback by your confrontational tone, but relaxed when he saw your face. Leaning his elbows on the windowsill, his eyes locked onto yours as he raised the cigarette to his lips and took a defiant puff.

"Well then, c’mere and try to take it from me".

You stood and approached him, attempting to maintain a serious expression. Raising your right hand, you tried to pluck it from his lips, but he was quicker, lifting it with his hand out of your reach. You huffed in frustration, grabbing his shirt and pushing him down pretending to go kiss him. He smelled like a mixture of tobacco, salt, seawater, and damp wood. As he leaned down to kiss you, you seized the opportunity to snatch the cigarette from his fingers just as your lips were about to meet.

With your prize secured, you dashed away down the hallway chuckling at his puzzled expression. He pursued you immediately, his steps echoing in the hallway as he closed the distance. Before you realize, strong arms enveloped you, lifting you by the hips effortlessly.

“Gotcha”.

Turning you gracefully in mid-air, he spun you around to face him. You giggled as you encircled his waist with your legs and clasped onto his shoulders, steadying yourself.

“I think you have something that belongs to me,” he said with a raspy voice.

You raised your hand, the cigarette poised between your fingers, teasingly moistening your lips with the tip of your tongue.

“Do you mean this?”

With deliberate allure, you took a drag before exhaling the smoke slowly, your eyes locked onto his.

“No, this,” with a hunger born of desire, he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss.

You released the cigarette from your grasp, allowing it to fall to the floor. Without hesitation, he swiftly brought his foot down upon it, extinguishing the ember with a resolute stomp.

He swept you into the kitchen, his lips still crashing into yours, before carefully seating you on the cool surface of the dining table. With your eyes shut, you remained oblivious to where you were until the chill of the table beneath your thighs prompted you to open them and take in your surroundings. You barely had a second to look around before you felt Beckman’s fingers touch your chin, drawing your mouth back to his again.

You tilted your head, deepening the kiss, and heard him growl softly. You smiled at this, your hands tracing the contours of his back until they grazed the yellow fabric cinched around his waist.

All the while he devoured your lips, you began untying the sash, a task that with practice, you had learned to do quickly. The moment it came undone, it slipped from his waist and dropped to the floor. Then, pressing your hand against his chest, you broke the kiss, your lips parting to catch your breath.

"How much time?,” you asked.

"Two days”.

"Okay," you replied without complaint or further inquiry. Both of you knew that arguing about it would only cause pain and frustration, as there was nothing that could be done.

Slipping his hands beneath your shirt, he began to caress the skin of your stomach, his fingertips sending shivers down your spine. "Enough time to put another child in this beautiful belly”.

You huffed and tried in vain to shove him off. “Don't you dare, Benn Beckman”. He chuckled and started kissing your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses on your neck, and you thought you heard him mumble we’ll see against your skin.

He pushed your legs slowly, spreading them to make room for your bodies to embrace. When they reached the limit, his hands moved to your small back and he pulled you firmly towards him. You gasped at the resolute movement.

“C’mere”.

A stray lock of hair escaping from his ponytail tickled your face, and with the tip of your fingers, you attempted to tuck it behind his ear, only for it to promptly slip out again.

"Where is the boy?" He asked between kisses, unable to separate his lips from yours or his hands from your back.

"Out. Playing with some friends," you managed to say.

"Mmh,” he adjusted his position to center his body with yours, his legs firm against the dining table. “One day I must teach him to fire a gun,” he mumbled.

"He is… only four… years old, Beck”

“Mmmh,” he murmured absentmindedly, his attention focused on the task of urging your body to recline upon the table's surface. You surrendered to his gentle push, letting him guide you until you were lying on your back, utterly exposed to him.

He took a moment to observe you, his gaze lingering on your swollen lips and your chest panting beneath him. You were a sight to behold.

“Fuck, look at you... you’re beautiful…”

His fingers lifted the edge of your skirt and tenderly traced the curve of your thigh, from knee to hip. A warmth began to spread wildly through your lower body as he kissed your neckline, unbuttoning your shirt impatiently at the same time. You raised your legs, wrapping them around his waist with a firmness that conveyed your desire to pull him closer, molding his body against yours in an embrace of longing and urgency.

“Beautiful and all mine…”

Your back arched instinctively, a silent expression of anticipation coursing through your body. He used this movement to slide his hands under your back, lifting and drawing your body even closer against his.

“Bed? Beck…”

“No time,” he managed to say.

He devoured you hungrily, his hands looking for the buckle of his belt in a desperate attempt to free himself. Your breaths quickened in unison, your bodies attempting to meld together…

"HI MOM! I’M AT HOME!"

His movements halted abruptly at the sound of a joyful four-year-old entering the house.

Fuck

With a swift motion, you disentangled yourself from his embrace, hurriedly smoothing down your disheveled clothes and tousled hair.

“I’ll take care of you later," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. A promise he’d better fulfill.

--------------

You had sex all night.

It was an intense session in which your bodies sought each other, embracing and clutching in a dance that lasted until dusk, aiming to reclaim all the pleasure you had yearned for those last months.

Striving to keep both of you hushed, for fear of waking up the kids, he did his best to swallow your moans and stifle his own grunts against your neck, relieving tension in silence.

He whispered praises ranged from the utmost devotion to the dirtiest and most obscene terms, and performed the sweetest and most affectionate caresses intertwined with the most brutal and energetic thrusts.

Every time you reached a peak, with hearts fluttering in unison in your chests, a simple glance, word, or touch reignited a flame that took you all night to quench.

In the soft morning glow, as the sun ascended, you lay in bed, your body exhausted and sore. Your head nestled against his chest, feeling the comforting warmth radiating from his body. He stared at the ceiling, clearly lost in thought, something heavy weighing on his mind.

"Darlin’," he broke the silence.

"Mmh?"

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes, quietly awaiting his words.

For a moment that seemed like an eternity, he hesitated.

"... you know I'd never smoke right next to the baby, right?"

So, that's what it was.

You couldn't help but smile. Finding comfort in the moment, you nestled your face against his chest once more, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

"I know, love," you murmured softly, your fingertips gently caressing his scarred temple. "I love you."

#benn beckman wives army #beckman x reader #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman #jintaka-stuff #x reader #one piece #one piece fiction #benn beckman fiction #shanks being silly #husband material #jintaka stuff

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therealloopylupin2099 · 1 month

Note

Instead of eating RATS, why don't you have some of these caramels I made? I've been stress baking whenever I'm not crying, so there's lots of treats!

*Lindsey holds out a tray of caramels wrapped in parchment paper, eating one herself*

-spider picked one up curiously and looked how Lily ate it before they shoved one in their mouth. Their eyes lit up after they chewed on it-

Ö̸̘͆H̷̛̹́ ̵̣͕̃̄S̴̤͌Ş̴̡͠͝Ś̷͔̓ͅP̶͔͝Ì̷̩̰D̸̝͋E̷͕̐͗R̷̜̤͌̍ ̷͚͚͆L̷͚͗I̴͇̹̍K̶̪̃E̸͎͠Š̴̰̈́Ș̷̑S̸̯̰̓S̴͕͑ ̷̣̀T̶̼̽̇H̴͇̹̀Ī̶̥͎S̵͉̄S̷̮̫͂Ș̶̤͘!

#into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spider person #miguel o'hara #ask #miguel answers

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degloved · 4 months

Note

i'm an absolute FIEND for outsider pov. would love to see a bit of that with chainshipping, or really any ship of your choosing. coffinshipping even! -T

this has been sat in my inbox for about two days now, and i'm almost glad for the fact i sort of put it off, as a friend and i had the most illuminating conversation about (among other things) perez's perception of hoffstrahm at work. with that fresh on my mind, things sort of fell into place really easily. also......... um i did make this hoffstrahm i hope that's okay ! i'm just honestly. really no good with chainshipping </3

‼️SAW REQS STILL OPEN‼️

Special Agent Lindsey Perez wasn't prone to entering such thorough states of confusion that doing much else beside standing rooted to the spot and staring blearily seemed an insurmountable venture—and yet.

She knew Special Agent Strahm—she knew Pete—better than she knew her own mother. Even somebody as difficult to get a read on as him couldn't remain an enigma forevermore, namely not to his mentee-turned-best fucking friend. Their understanding was utter and implicit. They were a unit not liable to persevere through separation.

She'd come down with something last week, taken the days off at Erickson's urging. Hadn't anticipated much of anything different in returning to the office. Way things have been going for them lately, honestly, she'd half expected to find everyone exactly as she'd left them—poring over the exact same files, chewing on the exact same half-baked theories that would never hold water, beating the exact same dead horses.

Strahm had been, at least, happy to see her. This she'd inferred by the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips, a subtle fondness in the crinkle of his eyes as he thrust a cup of coffee in her direction.

And, Perez couldn't tell you exactly when she'd first noticed something wasn't right—but about halfway into the workday, the realization had struck and was yet to let up, a couple of hours later.

Outwardly, nothing seemed to be amiss. Strahm was Strahm and thus unpleasant and snappy. Hoffman was Hoffman, and thus unpleasant and smug. Perez watched them (covertly, she'd like to think) do the usual song and dance—the posturing, the barb-trading, the sneering as though they might pounce at each other at any moment. (All because of some incorrectly filed evidence; but, she supposed, they'd argued more viciously for much less.)

She didn't think anyone else might think much of the picture they painted, it appearing no different from their normal. To her trained eye, however, it was anything but; the relaxed slouch to Strahm's shoulders, the glaring lack of a frown, the occasional grin he'd let play about his lips for half a second, all his usual insults lacking all the usual bite… and most damning of all, perhaps, the way he'd been braced against Hoffman's desk, gently swaying in an uncanny mimicry of a puppy with its sights set on a toy. (Was that a bit of a mean comparison?)

But, you know what, benefit of the doubt. Perhaps that was a one-off, something's-for-sure-contaminating-the-water-supply kind of occasion. Didn't have to mean a thing. Perez could let it go, honest.

She was about to let it go, mulling over the scene playing on repeat in her head while packing up to go home. Or, well, to the hotel, as it were. She slung her bag over her shoulder, wrapped a thick scarf around her neck, all the while strutting towards the exit. The door of Hoffman's office was cracked open.

It was difficult not to look.

The scene within brought on that state of utter confusion, a certain speechlessness. She slowed to a stop, peering through the gap in the doorway. To tell the truth, it would've been perfectly normal had it been anybody but Hoffman and Strahm As it was, Perez took in the sight—the two of them wearing creepily similar expressions of unwavering focus, eyes narrowed and locked on the screen of Hoffman's computer. Strahm hovered above the sitting detective, one hand resting atop the man's shoulder.

The hand, perhaps, was the biggest culprit. A tell, a giveaway. Perez couldn't tear her eyes away, and in that blatant staring, she didn't miss the subtle movement of Strahm's fingers, the way they dug into the fabric, the swipe of his thumb uncannily alike a stroke, a caress. Hoffman shifted, as though in response, causing the hand to slip nearly down to his neck. Strahm's fingers tapped a rhythm against bare skin.

She'd stood there a second too long. The next thing she knew, Strahm was looking up—and in doing that, his eyes landed squarely on her. Their faces flushed in tandem for different reasons entirely, though before the moment could stretch any further, Perez bolted for the exit.

Well, in any case, tomorrow seemed to brim with the promises of awkward conversations to be had over lunch break.

#saw #hoffstrahm #coffinshipping #peter strahm #mark hoffman #fic request #n

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rainydaywhump · 4 months

Text

Being home for Christmas reminds me of how much I love being in a multi-religious family because:

I get my Christian mom's gossip from her church down the street AND my Buddhist dad's admittedly less intense gossip from his centre in the city

My mom, who has been tired of the commercialized version of the holiday that her religion hypes up for months since Halloween, can only watch in bemusement as my pagan sister excitedly brings home yet another box of Christmas baubles

Note that my sister has already made her own witchy ornaments to add to the pile. Will the xmas tree still be visible by the time we're done decorating? Your guess is as good as mine

I (the token atheist) am baking jam thumbprints while listening to Lindsey Stirling's Carol of the Bells and doing my best to fend off my youngest brother's attempts to steal dough

My Christian brother is muttering not-biblically-approved swears while he picks up after our cat, who occasionally likes to knock the Buddha off of Dad's shrine and who is now purring contentedly curled up under the tree that she will no doubt terrorize later tonight

It's a very casual sort of chaos and I'm enjoying every second of it lmao

#my coworkers think I'm extra for giving my cat + dog a stocking full of toys and treats each year #hmm I still need to get those #christianity #christmas #buddhism #interfaith family #paganism #pagan witch #atheism

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preciouslandmermaid · 2 years

Note

Eddie X reader (still in vol 1 before everything with Chrissy happened) where they are the weird freak couple and they are still in their honeymoon phase so they are all lovey doves and stuff and OMG PLS INCLUDE THE SCENE IN THE CAFETERIA WITH JASON THANK U ILY

Thank you so much for sending this! Also, I couldn't fully remember the cafeteria scene so I made it lowkey vague and then included some more Jason-douchery. I hate Jason. I know he's a product of his environment but FUCK THAT GUY.

You opened your locker with an annoyed huff. Next period was Chemistry with Mr. McCarthy and his droll voice never failed to put you into a coma. You were almost tempted to skip it. Begrudgingly, you pulled out your weathered Tome of Chemists and slid the heavy book underneath your arm.

You slammed your locker shut and jolted at the sudden sight of Eddie's grinning face behind it - "Boo!"

"Hey!" You laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

He looped an arm around your waist and easily pulled you into him. "A heart attack would help you escape your next class, wouldn't it?" He leaned his forehead against yours. Eddie Munson may as well have been made of magnets for the way he drew you in. His warm, brown eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile.

You met him halfway, pressing your lips to his, in a brief yet firm kiss.

You felt a rumbling, pleased hum beneath your palms that laid on his chest. Ok. Now you were seriously considering skipping.

"Gross!" A feminine voice balked from the hallway, "Is the circus in town? A little freak on freak action?" The half-baked, poor insult was followed by a chorus of giggles.

You drew your face away from Eddies', felt his grip tighten on your hips, and stared - pointedly - at Lindsey and her crew of bottle blondes. Now, you had nothing against Lindsey and her gaggle of friends. They were about as uninteresting as a square of tissue paper and were clearly the result of wanting so badly to "fit in" that they threw verbal punches at anyone who wasn't a cheerleader. You handled them before.

"Lindsey, if you wanna watch so bad, all you gotta do is ask." You grinned, sliding your hands upward and interlacing your fingers at the nape of Eddie's neck, "what do you think, love?" You asked Eddie, trusting him to play along.

"Ooh." Eddie clicked his tongue, "I dunno, sweetheart. We might be too much for Lindsey's delicate constitution."

"Eugh. As if!" Lindsey gagged, "Whatever, freaks!" She waved a neon-bangled hand as if to swat away the mental images. "Just quit being gross in the halls."

You leaned into Eddie, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "did you hear that? Lindsey thinks we should stop being gross."

"Did she?" Eddie chuckled, chasing your mouth with his, and pressing your back against the lockers as he kissed you earnestly. The bell rang and Lindsey and her group walked away (with an exorbitant amount of huffing and over-the-shoulder insults that you didn't bother listening to).

You cupped Eddie's face in your hands, unable to wipe the stupid, sappy grin off your face. "I should get to chemistry."

"I'll walk you." He slid his arm around your shoulders and you walked, hip-to-hip to your chemistry class. Before you entered the classroom, Eddie gave you one last, lingering kiss that sent electric-tingles straight to you toes. You tugged on the front of his jean jacket.

"Stop making it so difficult to say goodbye to you, Munson." You joked with an exasperated sigh.

"Stop being so difficult to walk away from, L/N."

You leaned up on your tip-toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. "See you after class."

~~~~~~~~~

At lunch, you sat at Eddie's table with his Hellfire club. He settled his palm on your knee, occasionally squeezing it through the ebbs and swells of conversation. You loved the comforting weight of it. It was like an anchor keeping you from drifting away from the shore.

You rested your cheek against his shoulder, half-listening as he talked about an upcoming d&d game, and caught Henderson's gaze. You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Lovebirds." He mouthed at you.

You smirked and rolled your eyes. You were confident that if Dustin's girlfriend wasn't in Utah, he'd be holding her hand down the hallways, and carrying her books to class. You decided to not call him out for hypocrisy.

Eddie moved, his hand leaving your knee, and you settled back into your chair with a bemused smile. He climbed up onto the lunchroom table and you clocked several heads turning and staring at him - with confusion, with disdain, or annoyance. The usual cocktail of high school stupidity.

You heard an offended Jason call out, "you want something, freak?"

Eddie made a face at him, devil horns and tongue, and you weren't going to leave him to be the only one. You faced shit together. Bullies, self-absorbed jocks, the spider on your bedroom ceiling. All of it.

Your chair squeaked as you stood and climbed on top, "Hey Jason! Don't look so upset! I'm sure ball-handling is a popular career after you graduate."

A few snickers erupted from around your table.

Jason scoffed. "Bitch."

You lifted both middle fingers and winked at him before hopping down from your chair. Jeff gave you a high five.

Eddie met you at the head of the table, interlacing his fingers with yours, "have I mentioned recently that I love you?" He said in a near-whisper.

"Only like once or twice today." You replied with a half shrug.

"Mhm, yeah, well. I do. Love you." He brought your co-joined hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

Your cheeks flushed, "I know."

"I am eating, ya know!" Dustin announced loudly with an embellished wave of his fork.

You hid your laughter and smile into Eddie's shoulder, his warm leathery, cedar and pine scent filling your nostrils.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were halfway to English when Jason rounded the corner.

"Hey, freak." He blocked you, "do you seriously think you can say shit like that and just get away with it?"

You scoffed at him, "I don't know, Jason. It kiiiinda seems like you do it all the time."

"Listen up." He crowded your personal space, but you refused to back up or back down. Jason might be taller than you, but you could kick him in the crotch with your combat boots and ensure no future-Jasons were ever born. You clenched your jaw and narrowed your eyes.

"You can act all high and mighty but everyone sees you for what you really are. Trash. You'll wind up dead or arrested before your twenty-first birthday. You and that prick, Eddie Munson."

"Are you gonna charge me a dollar for the fortune telling session? Or am I getting this for free?" You asked loftily.

Jason's eyebrows raised. "Seriously?"

You ran your tongue across your teeth and squared your shoulders, "I'm gonna make this really simple for you, Jason. I don't give a shit what you think, what your friends think, hell - I don't care what the entire student body of Hawkins thinks about me. Hear me?"

"I. don't. give. a. shit." And with each word, you poked him in the chest. He glared at you, bewildered and angry, but didn't move closer.

"So, you can save your breath and braincells and keep your little opinions to yourself." You smiled your sweetest and toothiest smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, the second bell is about to ring and I actually like English class."

You side-stepped Jason and took the stairs two-at-a-time, meeting Eddie at the upper landing, whose face brightened upon seeing you--like you were the best thing he'd seen all day.

"Hey, beautiful. I was just about to come looking for you." He put an arm around your waist and slid his hand into the back pocket of your jeans. You leaned gratefully into the pure comfort of him and the annoyance of your interaction with Jason melted away.

"I'd never miss our only class together." You assured him. "I just got waylaid by some mouth breather telling me I would wind up getting arrested someday."

"Oh yeah? Let me guess...it was...Troy?"

"Close! Jason."

Eddie grimaced. "Prick."

"King Prick of Hawkins High." You agreed, "I'm sure I'll find old cheese stuffed into my locker or something as payback."

He snickered. "You're giving them way too much credit. They'd never be that creative."

"Ah, good point."

"But, if you need a locker to use, you can always borrow mine."

"Oh yeah?" Your lips parted in surprise, "just like that? You gonna give me a key to your trailer next?"

Eddie leaned over and kissed the side of your head. "Yeah, actually. I was planning on it."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #request #my fics #me writing names for bullies: the most basic white girl names u have ever seen #i hope this was lovey dovey enough for u??? I LOVE HIM SO MUCH sobs #dustin really said: IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?? REALLY??

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somediyprojects · 7 months

Text

Watercolor Weaving

Project by Lindsey Campbell:

SUPPLIES

6″x8″ piece of cardboard

Undyed 100% cotton yarn/twine

Liquid Rit dye

5″ weaving needle

Paintbrush

Scissors

Paper Towels

INSTRUCTIONS

Step 1

Make a weaving loom by cutting 18-20 slits into the top and bottom of your cardboard piece about 1/2″ apart and 1/4″ deep.

Step 2

Use undyed, 100% cotton yarn to tie a knot around the top first notch, then guide it down and loop it around the bottom first notch, then up again around the top second notch.

Step 3

Continue guiding your yarn up and down, around each notch until you reach the end. This is called “warping your loom.” Tie a knot around the last notch to hold your yarn in place on the loom.

Step 4

Cut a new length of yarn, about one yard long. Tie one end 1.5″ from the bottom onto the first warp string, leaving a 2″ tail. Thread your needle onto the other end of the yarn.

Step 5

Guide your needle over the first string, under the second, over the third, under the fourth… etc. This is the basic weaving stitch and is called the “tabby” weave.

Step 6

When you reach the last warp string, turn the needle around and create a new row going back across the strings. If you ended the first row by going over the last warp string, begin this second row by going under the same string, and visa versa, to hold your rows in place. When you run out of yarn, simply cut a new piece, tie it onto the end and re-thread your needle onto the new length of yarn. Complete 5-6″ of tabby rows.

Step 7

To add fringe, cut five pieces of yarn, each 5″ long. Lay the center of this bundle across two warp strings. Wrap each end behind the adjacent warp string and up through the center of both warp strings. These are called “rya” knots. To keep them in place, continue two rows of the tabby weave after each rya.

Step 8

Add more fringe wherever you want. You can add them on an angle by placing them 1-2 warp strings apart, seperating them with two rows of tabby after each rya knot. When you are happy with the length of your weave, tie a knot onto the last warp string.

Step 9

Cut the ends of your warp strings. In pairs of two, knot them together to hold the weave in place.

Step 10

Place your weave on a few layers of paper towels in a shallow baking dish, to avoid dyeing anything underneath the weave.

Step 11

Begin with a very small dye-to-water ratio. One cup of water with a drop or two of dye is all you need for the first layer. Use a paintbrush to apply the dye to your weave in loose large patches.

Step 12

Increase your dye-to-water ratio. One cup of water with 1/4 tsp. of dye. Apply the dye in smaller patches on top of of the first layer.

Step 13

Increase your dye-to-water ratio again. One cup of water to 3/4 tsp. of dye. Again, apply the dye in smaller patches on top of the first two layers. You can repeat this process as many times as you want to achieve the effect and saturation that you want. It helps to look at images of watercolor in order to understand how the diluted layers should be laid out.

Step 14

Use a cup of undyed water to help you blend any edges and spread the color where you want on the weave. When you are satisfied with the result, replace the layers of paper towels and allow your weave to dry completely.

Now that your weave is complete you can use it however you want. Sew it onto a dowel or a stick to hang it straight on the wall or place it in a gallery box to frame it.

#diy #crafts #x

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mmothmanners · 7 months

Note

So I wanted to know a bunch of little things and I hope throwing them all into one ask is alright. As always, answer what you can/want and I will eat it up!

What’s Ris’ favorite color?

Does he have a favorite song to play or does he go based on vibe?

Does he like his hair being played with and does he like playing with other people’s hair if they’re just chilling side by side?

Opinions on jewelry and favorite stone to wear? (Funnily enough, he and my Tav have the same earring set.)

Cats, dogs or both?

(This is one can be skipped over without a second thought.) Sexuality? Any specifics to it? And would he be open to a polycule?

If he had to dye his hair two colors, what would they be?

Favorite traits in a potential friend? Most disliked traits?

Does he like sweets? If so, does he prefer them to be baked or no?

Does he have any hobbies?

Is he a sit-down violinist or does he Lindsey Sterling his performances?

I will always have more little questions if you enjoy silly bits. I’m always interested in every detail someone can provide in a character so please bear with me!!

And to just share a thought of mine, I’ve already absentmindedly headcanoned my Tav and him as friends and them playing Fairytale by Alexander Rybak as a fun little ditty. Or something like that song if not Fairytale specifically. But I thought it’d be neat with them both preferring violin and all. (Though, Talanova ends up playing something else when I think about them performing together.)

Heck yes! Alright I can answer all these (after a billion years of sitting on them):

What’s Ris’ favorite color? Contrary to his wardrobe… His favourite colour is blue. Because it is the prominent colour of two incredible things he only saw after leaving the Underdark: The Sky and the Ocean. He waxes a lot of poetry about them.

Does he have a favorite song to play or does he go based on vibe? He plays based on vibes and energy given back to him. But he often loves singing older songs in Undercommon he learned back in the Underdark. Often haunting and melancholic (though he saves those songs for when he's alone and away from others).

Does he like his hair being played with and does he like playing with other people’s hair if they’re just chilling side by side? Oh yes. He's very tactile in both his own affections and open to receiving it from others. It makes him exceptionally content and connected as it was something of a novel concept until quite recently (post Underdark).

Opinions on jewelry and favorite stone to wear? (Funnily enough, he and my Tav have the same earring set.) He adores being bejewelled. Probably remnants of his old life but the aesthetic truly sates a desire to look good. His favourite gem stones are rubies.

Cats, dogs or both? All. All animals. He loves them all because they tend to love him in return (dogs especially).

Sexuality? Any specifics to it? And would he be open to a polycule? Pansexual! Absolutely finds beauty and attraction to all folks - as for a polycule, it would have to be some very special folk that he feels a deep connection to. Honestly he's very single minded (usually) when it comes to love. But again, he wouldn't outright oppose it.

If he had to dye his hair two colors, what would they be? Hrmm. He likes White & Black - keep the natural and add something completely opposite of it.

Favorite traits in a potential friend? Most disliked traits? He loves a great sense of humour in another. Also the type of person who will turn to you without missing a beat after you teasingly say 'i might murder x for being a clown' and then say 'i'll bring the shovel to help you hide them'. As for disliked traits… Pretty standard things but especially someone who has no love for music.

Does he like sweets? If so, does he prefer them to be baked or no? Yes. He loves all food. He's like a vacuous void of hunger but especially for sweets.

Does he have any hobbies? Poetry writing, Song composition, classic ballroom dancing… He also adores archery and fencing. He was raised pretty typically with noble hobbies and lessons drilled into him. Luckily he found love in all of them.

Is he a sit-down violinist or does he Lindsey Sterling his performances?

Definitely Lindsay Sterling. He just gotta move with his music.

#avarensons-craze #jill answers #ocs #Ris'daer #Questions about my OCs spark a lot of joy

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kaiyonohime · 2 years

Text

Warning to all fiber artists

This is an updated and abbreviated post to warn all fiber artists about a scam artist that is currently fleecing the community. I will keep this post pinned and updated with new information as it becomes available.

There is a scam artist in the fiber arts community named Sherry Tenney. She sells fleece and wool on facebook and etsy. She frequently does not send the fleece or wool she has been paid for, and plays the customer until the time window for a dispute is passed. Afterward, if you continue to contact her, she will leave unhinged, violent, and threatening messages to you, doxx your name and address on her facebook live streams and posts, and still refuse to either send product or refund you.

A lot of complaints have also come forward about the product she does send out. It is frequently moth and larvae infested, contains large amounts of shit, completely matted fleeces, or are trimmings that are completely unusable. If you have received product from her you must quarantine it and freeze and bake it to destroy the moths and larvae.

She frequently tries to force smaller fleece sellers from small farms to go out of business to purchase their fleeces for cheap. She, with the help of several associates and sock puppet accounts, will contact people in the groups of small sellers and offer them fleeces for cheaper and claim they will be of better quality. She, and her associates and sock puppets, will then report the small farms public media repeatedly until they are taken down, thus preventing the farmer/shepard from being able to sell. Several small farms have confirmed losses of nearly 60% in sales due to her actions. Some have unfortunately gone out of business due to her actions as well.

Sherry has also focused her scam on small, independent suppliers as well. She will orders goods and services and then, once received, she will refuse to pay for them, or dispute charges with PayPal and her credit card. She will claim the items were never received, were not what she ordered, or were damaged. She will then sell them to gain a full, one hundred percent profit on the goods. If she contacts you to purchase goods, or to do labor on her farm, she will not pay you. Shearers on the east coast will not work with her or shear her sheep any longer because of her actions, and she depended on a young charity shearer to save her sheep from heat stroke this year.

Sherry Tenney is also currently trying to sell lambs on facebook (against facebook rules). Her animals do not have official papers (she does not control breeding, her ewes and rams are mixed together at all times), she does not know the breed of most of her sheep (lots of random breeds together with unknown breeding has resulted in unknown crossbreeds and a large quantity of inbreeding), and her sheep/lambs do not have the proper veterinary certificates that would be required for transport.

Sherry Tenney’s confirmed know aliases and the names she goes by (she changes her name frequently on social media):

Sherry Tenney

Vondorp Sherry

Sherry Vondorp

Lee Giltay

Sara Rudacille

Sherry Lee Price

Sherry Tenney Giltay

Sherry Tennay

Giltay Sher-Lee

Rudacille SaraEarle

Known associates that are actively working with her on her scam:

Suzanne Smith Collier

Cynthia Karitianos Tilker

Caroline Moss

Roberta Van Harn

Adrienne Lehman

Jeannine Talley-Cramer

Lindsey E Bucci

Brice Wonders

Elizabeth Nicole Washburn

Tuesday Rose

Sherry Tenney’s facebook groups are:

Farmlife in the country

RAW WOOL 4 ALL selling buying group USA

Wool and Fiber artists supplies buyers group and silks too

Fiber sellers

The Cashmere Turtle luxury fiber affordable prices

The Dye house and Mrs Tuttle country fiber arts (community)

McCullough Farm primitives and country life

Sherry Tenney’s instagram is:

wensyledale_and_elenor

mccullough_farms_and_primitive

tenneysfinnsheep

Sherry Tenney’s online shops are:

Shop Website: Tenney’s Fiber Farm https://tenneysfiberfarm.com/

Etsy Storefront: TenneysFiberFarm

eBay Storefront: crabapplesheep

Suzanne Smith Collier’s etsy is:

FinerThanFroggyHair (Spinning Yarns & Weaving Tall Tails)

Suzanne Smith Collier’s facebook group is:

Finer Than Frog’s Hair

If you have a Ravelry account, this has all been compiled for viewing here. I do warn you, the videos are unnerving and I could barely stomach just reading the transcripts.

Here is a link to a google form filled out by those who Sherry has stolen from, and how much she has stolen. It is currently at over $15,000+ USD.

Here is a link to a YouTube channel of Sherry’s livestreams. I feel I should warn everyone that they can become violent and aggressive in nature, and several have been known to trigger survivors of domestic violence.

The Pennsylvania Attorney General has filed suit against her, and you can read the paperwork filed here. If you have filed a complaint with the Pennsylvania Attorney General they will keep you up to date. If Sherry has stolen from you, please contact the Attorney General, even though they have already filed against Sherry, every victim coming forward helps. The next court date is February 1st, 2024.

Here is a link to a video on YouTube that goes into detail about the charges filed by the Pennsylvania Attorney General against Sherry Tenney. The judge has ruled that Sherry’s case is going forward, and has overruled Sherry’s lawyer’s attempt to get the charges thrown out. Cases take time, but Sherry Tenney is being charged!

Sherry Tenney has once again filed for bankruptcy! She filed for Chapter 13 bankruptcy. Here is the info:

[The Bureau of Consumer Protection is writing to update you concerning the consumer complaint you filed against Tenney’s Fiber Farm, LLC (the “Company”) and the above-referenced litigation.

As you may know, Sherry Tenney has filed for Chapter 13 bankruptcy in the United States Bankruptcy Court in the Middle District of Pennsylvania under Case Number 1:23-bk-02752-HWV.

If you have not done so already, you may wish to file a proof of claim form in the bankruptcy. A proof of claim form may be filed either electronically or as a paper document. The Bankruptcy Court has set a deadline of February 12, 2024 for creditors to file proofs of claim. To assist you in that matter, we have enclosed a blank proof of claim form for you to complete and submit to the bankruptcy court.

Please send the completed proof of claim form to:

Sylvia H. Rambo US Courthouse U.S. Bankruptcy Court 1501 N. 6th St. Harrisburg, PA 17102

Please be advised, our office cannot offer you legal advice. You should consult with a private attorney to ensure that your rights are preserved in the bankruptcy proceedings.

Very truly yours,

Mia Paone Consumer Protection Agent]

If Sherry Tenney owes you money, please file immediately!

Sherry Tenney has made multiple claims that would indicate she is abusing and neglecting her animals. Please do not contact authorities as that would give Sherry Tenney reason to sue someone for harassment. That is the unfortunate state of laws in the US. All of her chickens died of neglect last year, she would not bring them in at night and they were eaten by local wildlife, and she has claimed that a fairly large number of her flock has passed away last year and this year as well, over 10%.

Sherry has changed the name of her facebook group to ‘McCullough Farm primitives and country life’ and is claiming that her farm is the historic McCullough farm. Her farm is not historic, the previous owner was named McCullough and it was owned by them since 2015, before that no McCullough’s owned it or were associated with it. In fact, Sherry bought the farm in 2021, it is not a generational farm. Her and her husband move states fairly frequently, they have no generational farm. She has changed her group name, and has started randomly posting stolen food recipes with stolen photos, in an attempt to confuse people and attract new victims to her group. Please warn others. Yes, she frequently uses the word ‘primitive’ for many things. She is that kind of person.

Sherry was selling in the FB group WAFA via pm, and was called out several times by customers who had received moth ridden fleece that was shorted weight. After a month the head of WAFA finally stepped in and kicked Sherry and several of her associates from the group. Unfortunately Brice Wonders of Spinaway Farms is still a member of the group, and he does work with Sherry. So WAFA is still a group that has a warning about using, as they are incredibly slow to react and only when called out on social media are they willing to take action at this time. WAFA has also contacted an attorney about the situation, though it is unknown what will be done.

Sherry has been stealing photos from noteworthy people in the fiber arts community and linking back to them in an attempt to appear that they associate with her. If you are well known in the fiber arts community please know that she will try to make it appear that you know her and approve of her business. So please be warned, and please warn others who follow you if you know that Sherry is doing this with your name.

Sherry is currently bragging about luring black bears to her farm to threaten her sheep by urinating, very frequently, on all of the fences that surround her animals. Human urine will attract black bears, as will animals left in the open all night that a bear would have easy access to. She enjoys luring them to the farm, and then brags about threatening them and shooting at them with her guns.

It cannot be stressed enough: DO NOT APPROACH THIS WOMAN IN PUBLIC OR AT PUBLIC EVENTS! She has threatened to shoot and kill people in several posts and rants, and brags about the amount of guns she has. Within recent days she has bragged about owning a glock, an AK, multiple shotguns, and frequently has them on her person. A shotgun has been spotted improperly and dangerous stored in the background of her photos. She is to be considered armed and dangerous at all times. Do not drive by her farm if you live in her area, do not sign up to attend a class if she holds one in person on her farm. She is a mentally unhinged and violent woman. She should not be approached in person at all costs. No one wants to see anyone hurt because of this. Especially now that her scam is failing and legal authorities have filed suit.

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ineffectualdemon · 1 year

Text

Margaret The PTA Mom

based on this dream I had

“Alright Kids! First day at the new school! I know it’s scary but this is a new opportunity isn’t it?” Margaret said to her children. Cindy and Becky, 6 and 8 respectfully, looked nervous but nodded their little heads.

Margaret was very excited. It was a whole new town which meant a chance to make new friends herself. She considered it very lucky that her lovely Thomas’ new job let her be a stay at home mom.

She reached the school gates still full of high spirits, unaware of how out of place she looked in her neat flared dress, heels and pearls. Her hair and makeup were both perfect and about 60 years out of date.

“Go on! Introduce yourself darlings!” she urged. Her kids made their way over to a group of kids playing a game and were soon running around as well.

One of the other moms dared to approach Margaret who had a wide, slightly unnerving, smile.

“First day?” the new mom asked.

“Oh yes! We just moved, we’re new in town. I’m Margaret, and may I say what a delightful top you have! I love that shade of blue!” she said enthusiastically.

The other mum blinked and looked down at her t-shirt before laughing.

“Well I’m not dressed up all fancy like you.” she replied awkwardly.

Margaret didn’t notice the awkwardness.

“Oh I just do this for my own benefit.” Margaret said with a dismissive wave, “Until Thomas got his promotion I worked as well so I’m making the most of being a stay at home mom now. It’s a bit silly isn’t it?”

The other mom relaxed a little.

“My name’s Lindsey, would you like to meet the other mums?” Lindsey suggested gesturing to the group she had been standing with earlier.

“Oh I’d love that!”

Later the mums would all agree that Margaret was a lovely person even if she didn’t seem to blink much and her smile seemed a little too big.

It wasn’t long before Margaret was seemingly everywhere. Her Devil’s Food Cake was to die for and much sought after at bake sales, she always seemed to be on hand and ready to help in an emergency, volunteered at the school to help the children with their reading, and all the local children loved visiting her house.

And then there was the birthday party for Jane Richardson. Everyone knew poor Jane was not a very popular child with her obsession with reptiles and snakes and her parents both worked full-time but were always low on funds.

Margaret never claimed credit but when Jane excitedly handed out invitations to her party which was going to be held at the park with a magician and princesses and a giant bouncy castle and a reptile show…well everyone knew. They knew even before Margaret went around and said to each parent with her very big smile in place “Your little one will be at Jane’s party right dear?”

Jane’s party was the party of the year and Jane got her very own snake as a present and all the kids were a little more friendly to Jane afterwards.

So when it was time to elect a new head of the PTA Margaret was really the obvious choice.

If there was a problem Magaret would handle it.

In fact the other parents at the school were so used to Margaret taking care of things that when all the kids started to have nightmares they were not really surprised when Margaret listened carefully to their schoolgate complaints and commiserations and smiled before saying:

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

That night after her girls were fast asleep in their beds she sat on a chair in their room knitting as she waited.

Sometime after midnight the girls started to whimper and toss and turn in her sleep.

Magaret put down her knitting carefully, stood up, and walked between the girls beds before putting a hand on each of their little foreheads.

“Got you.” she whispered before pulling a demon out of each of her kid’s dreams.

The startled demons were dropped at the foot of the beds. They were very similar in appearance. One had long hair that curled around it’s horns as it blinked it’s glowing eyes in surprise. It’s tights were ripped and the black dress and boots had seen better days. The other had short hair and a ragged hoodie and ripped black jeans and frankly trashed trainers on. They both appeared to be about 16.

They both looked up at Magaret and opened their mouths but she shushed them before walking to the door and holding it open.

The demons stared at her for a moment before she nodded at the door impatiently.

The two demons scrambled quickly out the door and looked back at Magaret who pointed into the dark house.

They glanced at each other but went in the direction indicated and eventually found themselves in a large kitchen diner.

“You two sit.” Magaret ordered and the demons did as asked without much complaint.

Magaret proceeded to put on the kettle and before the two befuddled demons had oriented themselves she was joining them at the table with a tray and passing them two cups of tea.

“Alright. Explain yourselves.” Margaret said as she took a sip of her own tea.

The two teen demons looked at each other then looked back at Margaret who smiled and both kids started talking at once.

It took a little bit of time and asking a lot of questions but eventually Margaret understood. The twins, Beial and Azora, weren’t trying to give the kids nightmares. They were hiding, trying to find a safe place to pass the night as they didn’t have a home they could go back to. They were demons without a family or a job. The local demon king wasn’t home very often and demons in the area tended towards the chaotic.

Magaret didn’t like that.

“You’re still growing children. You deserve stability. You’re welcome to stay here but you’ll have to attend school. Education is important.” Margaret said as she cleared up the tea things, “We have too many rooms in this house anyway.”

The teens stared at her.

“We’re literally demons with horns.” Beial pointed out.

“I know, sweetheart, I can see them. They’re very cute.” Margaret said, touching the tip of one lightly.

The twins took a moment of silent communication before nodding.

“We can give it a try at least.” Azora said.

“Wonderful! I’ll show you to your rooms and we can figure out the paperwork tomorrow.”

Thomas was surprised to see teen demons at the breakfast table arguing over the bagels but when Margaret explained everything he took it in stride. He trusted his wife and besides, they seemed like good kids.

#magaret the pta mom #original fiction #my writing #creative writing

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nuka-cherries · 5 months

Text

Sweet Like Honey

Fandom: The Bear (2022) Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Aurora Saltillo (oc)

A double Michelin star(s) award winning pastry chef, Aurora Saltillo is adjusting to a complicated world without her mother and without Mikey. Just when she is barely starting to see process in The Beef, Carmy takes over and enters her life again.

Carmy, the same rival from culinary school. Carmy, the same cold-hearted bastard from New York City who took her dream job. Carmy, the same one who ultimately broke Mikey's heart.

Simply said, Aurora can't stand Carmy; Carmy can't stand Aurora. And now, they have to work together.

It only gets more complicated from there. \\\ Latina OC.

Lindsey Morgan as Aurora Saltillo.

Thank you @thatone-brightstar for the cheering! ily!

Spotify soundtrack here!

AO3 Link here!

Lindsey Morgan as Aurora Saltillo | Ming-Na Wen as Ming Saltillo

Aurora Saltillo contemplated every decision she had made up to that point in time.

Carmy was not a bad person. But when he got serious, he got serious. For Aurora, cooking and baking was fun. It was her joy. She made her own quinceañera cake when she turned fifteen. She catered meals for her family. Growing up with a Mexican biological mother and a Chinese adoptive step mother, she fully embraced both cultures and proudly incorporated both into her cooking.

That was, until she disappeared for two years following a personal crisis and a major breakdown after her mother’s diagnosis. And COVID. Can’t forget that. At least at The Beef, no one questioned her disappearance. They were there for her, unlike the culinary scene in New York. The Beef had her back.

Between losing her mother a month before Mikey’s suicide, there was too much going on for her to process anything.

Now, the kitchen was cleaned up and it has calmed down. Well, more like it had burned out.

Today was a fucked up day and those did not happen very often.

Aurora was too amped up on adrenaline to cry in the freezer. She was too devoted to Mikey to leave. Mikey should be in the kitchen, cooking with them, calming everyone the hell down and cracking jokes and being silly.

So, she numbly took a step back, looking at the recipe for pure disaster.

One energy drink, two stars, three major breakdowns and four tragedies later, Aurora found herself here. In the middle of the aftermath of an angry kitchen. The online orders got fucked up. Everything got fucked up.

Syd walked out. Marcus walked out. Everyone was angry. Richie was bleeding. Everyone was pissed off. But ultimately, the day was over and they could all go home and leave the stress behind.

Syd was not answering Aurora’s texts. Marcus sent her to voicemail.

It was a fucked-up day.

But at least there was tomorrow.

Aurora had cussed out Carmy in the kitchen once the last order was done. She kept it together. Then the onions had to happen. She fucked up an onion. She almost walked out. But she remembered where she was. She remembered who she was.

And she cussed Carmy out to the point even his ancestors must have felt the shame.

She was angry. They were both angry. Frustrated. Hurt.

Richie tried to lead her to the cooler and tried to have her sit there for twenty minutes. She only made it for five. She was too angry to even feel the cold.

“Nothing smart to say this time?”

Here we go…

It was going to be one of those exits, it seemed.

“Plenty,” Aurora said flatly. “Today was a fucked up day, Carm.”

“Don’t need the reminder.”

He did.

“No, you fucking do,” Aurora said. “You had two amazing chefs walk out on you today. Be lucky you didn’t lose three.”

“You were going to walk out too?”

“I was tempted.”

“Well, chef of the year goes to you.” Carmy exhaled the smoke.

Somehow, that was what got to Aurora.

“You know what? Do me a favor—no, do us all a favor—and go home, get the fattest fucking blunt, smoke it and chill the fuck out,” Aurora snapped. “Today was a fucked up day and your shitty attitude is what drove everyone apart. Mistakes happen! It happens! But you’re too much of a fucking egoistical perfectionist to realize it.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Aurora ran out of steam. She let out a huff. “Fine.” She turned on her heels and began to talk to the train station.

“Wait.”

“What is it?”

“Marcus’s donut. It was…” Carmy trailed off. “It was good.”

A really weird olive branch.

“Of course, it was. Marcus made it.” Aurora tightened her coat. “Goodnight, Carmy.”

On a rough day like this, Mikey would have hugged her. Told her it was okay. He would have reassured her that everything was fine and to cool off in the cooler so she could get cooler.

Boy, did she sob at Mikey’s funeral.

She was broken. Everything was broken. Her best friend, lost and gone. The one who called her Rora. The one who called her the Little Lion, who liked to roar. Marcus held her in his arms for comfort and so she would not collapse again. Her mom, widow, held Richie’s arm.

She did not connect the dots about Carmy being the same Carmen from New York City, nor the same asshole from culinary school while at the funeral. She was too busy crying. She couldn’t compose herself for Richie’s sake, as much as she tried to tell herself to do so. All that was on her mind was Mikey. All she could process was Mikey. All she could think of was Mikey on the cold table.

Richie didn’t blame her either.

At his apartment after the service, she curled up with him on the couch on his lap, held each other in silence. Watched the Blackhawks game on low volume. Both of their eyes were swollen from crying. Throats numb from the sobs. He merely held her. Mourning for the same man who should have been alive. She fell asleep like that.

She woke up to Richie talking to Marcus in the middle of the night. About how he was worried about Aurora. About how he was in shock and felt like an endless nightmare.

Mikey stressed about The Beef. She knew that. She was the one sitting on Mikey’s desk trying to crunch the numbers on her calculator app on what supplies they could get in bulk from the dollar store. The Lion Perch, as she called it. She was an optimist. She was the one who was trying to fix it all alongside him.

She was the one who was with Richie when they identified the body too.

A month later, she returned to work at the Beef to Carmy trying to fix everything. The same Carmy who took her dream job. The same Carmy who despised her in culinary school.

Just like in New York City, Carmy was making it worse.

Her mom was in the kitchen watching the telenovela when Aurora got home.

“Ma, I’m home!” She loudly greeted.

“Hey baby!” Her mom greeted. “Dinner is ready. I made sesame beef.”

Aurora loved making dinner. It was one of her favorite meals to make, next to breakfast. But sometimes, her mom took over and unexpectedly made it. She said it was to vary the flavor. But Aurora knew it was to try to take the weight off her chest.

But her mom cooked something. She actually cooked!

This was a win. This was a big win. Her mom rarely cooked after her mama’s funeral.

“Fuck yeah! How was work?”

“Shit,” her mother said simply. “But I survived. What about you?”

It was horrible. I miss Mikey. I miss mom.

Instead, Aurora shrugged and laid her head on her mom’s shoulder. “I made it through.” She sat down at the kitchen table. “Come on, ma. I do not want to miss this part.” She gestured to sit next to her.

At least there was tomorrow.

#esme makes a text post #sweet like honey fic #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x oc

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