#but she has her mama’s udder | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fixxofvixx · 4 years ago

Text

Stay With Me - Demon Leo Au - Chapter 28

Good evening! I hope all of you are well and happy! I have a bit of an update for you! Lots of things in this chapter! Let me know what you think and enjoy!

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

"Step aside, demon. We will rid you of the witch that has threatened the forest and the village."

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

"The what?" You tried to peek around Leo but he kept you firmly behind him. You were only able to see through the space between his body and arm. There were mostly men from the village but a few women had joined the group.

Leo snapped the arrow in half like in one hand it was a toothpick. Black smoke swirled around him and his hair was wild. He was livid. You didn't need to see his face, you knew what it looked like. The evidence was on the now frightened villagers.

"Who wants to explain why you are trying to kill my woman?" His voice was full of quiet rage. You knew he was trying to hold himself together so he wouldn't create a massacre.

"The woman you have sheltered has been making threats upon the village!"

"She has cursed our livestock and our crops have died out almost overnight!

"She said the forest was next and she planned to burn it all!"

Several villagers spoke up at once. They started murmuring amongst themselves until they were shushed by someone in the back.

"My good townspeople, allow me to explain to the demon." Norman stepped through the crowd and Leo tensed.

"You have guts stepping foot into my forest."

"I don't b-believe you have a deed for this area of land." Norman stood with his arms at his sides and his hands were clenched into fists.

"Do I need one?"

"You--! Nevermind, that is a matter for another day. Yesterday morning, this little--!"

"Careful….you are in my domain." Leo warned Norman and the man visually paled.

"This….girl...ahem...came into the village and threatened everyone in exchange for money! When we refused, our crops began withering and the livestock began to get sick. She said the forest was next and that she would burn everything to the ground!" Norman's face was beet red by the time he had finished explaining.

"I did no such thing!" You yelled in frustration as you came from around Leo.

"Are you calling me a liar, you witch?!" Norman started to come forward but wisps of black smoke curled around his ankles, cementing him to the ground. Norman's face was as good as a tomato when he turned to Leo.

"Why are you protecting the one you told us to kill?!"

"And when did I demand her death?" Leo crossed his arms over his chest and let out a short laugh. His patience was wearing thin.

"This morning! You came into the village and offered a large sum to rid the forest of the witch!"

"Would you like to try and take her away from me? I feel the need to bloody something." Leo's smoke turned thicker and you could see his claws extend.

"I saw you this morning! I know you were there! Stand back, this witch needs to die!"

Norman pointed at you and raised his rifle to prepare to shoot.

Leo advanced on him quickly, placing one hand on the rifle and the other around Norman's neck.

"The only place I've been lately is to the Underworld. Would you like to go there? I'm sure my brother will welcome you with open arms."

As you were watching Leo with Norman, you failed to notice one of the other villagers sneaking up behind you at the same time. You screamed as an arm wrapped around your neck from behind and their other hand raised a knife. You grabbed the man's wrist to keep him from bringing the knife down into your chest.

Leo noticed and tossed Norman like a ragdoll into the unsuspecting crowd. Then he turned and advanced on the man holding you.

"It would be wise for you to release her. I hadn't planned on killing anyone today but I am awfully hungry and I've got plenty of time. So unless you want to die a slow and painful death, I suggest you let her go. NOW!" Leo's shout caused the man to falter. He released you as if you were burning hot.

Unfortunately, as he released you, the knife he had been holding sliced against your neck leaving a thin line of blood seeping from the cut. You covered it immediately and turned to the man. He looked to be about the same age as you. He kept looking at the knife and then at you. His face paled and he began muttering softly "sorry" over and over again.

That's when you realized something was off.

The man's face no longer held the rage it did before. Looking over at the crowd, they also seemed to be frozen in fear. They all had eyes on Leo, wondering what he would do. They almost looked confused about the whole situation.

Leo was at your side in an instant, covering your neck with his hand. The cut healed quickly but you held his hand against you even after it was back to normal.

"I'll kill them all."

"Wait."

"They'll try again, Y/N."

"No, look at them. They look so confused. Almost like they don't know why they're here. Do you think someone forced them? Is it possible to take over someone's mind?"

"Does it matter? They tried to kill you." He looked over at the crowd and spoke in a louder tone. "They deserve death for trying to harm you."

The group was visibly frozen and you couldn't help but feel that killing them would solve nothing.

"I don't think they intended for things to happen this way."

"I don't feel like letting them live." Leo looked over the crowd but you knew he wouldn't do anything if there was a possibility that they had been sent here unwillingly.

"Then go after the one who made them that way."

"I know who did it." Leo walked a few steps towards the crowd and you tensed along with the villagers. "Go home and never step foot in my forest again."

Fearful mutterings of "yes", "how did we get here", and "I thought we were dead" filled the crowd as they quickly dispersed. Norman was unconscious and had to be carried out by a few villagers. The man who had held the knife to your throat walked by and apologized again before scurrying off.

Leo turned back to you but his face was cast in shadows. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Was it your mother?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, my love."

"It's not your fault." You looked up at him and smiled. "Can she really impersonate people?"

"Only people she has touched before. My five brothers and I all inherited different traits from our parents. Four of us, Ravi, Hakyeon, Ken, and I received most of the same powers my father had. Hongbin and Hyuk received more from my mother. Impersonation, brainwashing, and even hallucinations are all included in their abilities."

You thought for a moment and then remembered your dream.

"Leo, do you think she can do the same thing with dreams?"

"Yes…..I know she can."

"Is that what you thought all along?"

"I suspected but was hoping she hadn't. What happened in the village solidified my suspicions. She's aiming to get rid of you but I'll be damned if I let her." Leo leaned down to kiss you. He pulled you closer and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck.

*Hang on tight.*

He was still kissing you when you heard his wings unfurl from his back. Soon after, you were both in the air. Leo's kiss swallowed the short scream that came from your lungs. Your arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hold. His arms went around your back and under your legs.

You pulled away from his lips and took a deep breath.

"Where are we going?! Why can't we teleport?"

"I want to take a look in the village and I can't hide us with a cloaking spell as quickly if we teleport in."

"Cloaking spell? Oh! Like the one you used when I first met you?"

"Yes, that's the one. I want to see for myself what my mother has done." Leo' wings flew quickly and before you knew it, he was descending upon the highest point in the village. Which happened to be the belfry of the church. As soon as he landed, the familiar shimmer of the spell surrounded you both. You smile as you thought about when you’d first met him. You had never been anywhere near the church as you were alway working for your parents and unable to attend.

"Are...you allowed to be near a church?" You almost laughed when a thought crossed your mind of him dancing around because his feet were burning due to the sanctity of the church.

"I'm not evil, Y/N. And I'm not the devil himself." He smirked and folded his wings.

"So...Ravi couldn't?"

"Ravi isn't the devil either. We're all just demons."

"But, he rules the underworld."

"A job he rightfully applied for and received. He wasn't born into it. Of course, he's been the ruler down there for so long, most people don't even remember that."

“I can’t imagine Ravi applying for a job.” You giggled and Leo sent you a playful glare.

"Come on, let's take a closer look." Leo curled his arm around your waist and jumped down from the belfry. You covered your mouth with your hands to keep you from screaming.

Once you reached the ground, you turned to Leo and glared. His only response was to lean forward and plant a short kiss on your lips. You vowed to get revenge later.

"Just stay behind the shimmer." You nodded at his instructions and grabbed his hand. You both walked towards the town square, mud and stone crunching under your feet. You tried to step quietly but there was no way to mask the sound.

"They won't be able to hear you or see you, remember? Just walk and talk comfortably."

The closer you got to the town square the more you could hear the townspeople talking amongst each other.

“What are we going to do? The crops were almost ready to harvest.”

“I was going to milk the cows this afternoon but it’s like their udders are all dried up.”

“Papa, why can’t we get the apples from the orchard? Mama promised to make us an apple pie.”

Your heart broke for the people around you. You turned to Leo and tugged on his arm. He, too, had been looking around the people.

“Leo?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you able to do anything for them?”

“Well….I’m not sure. I don’t really have any incentive now do I?” He smiled at you but you knew what he was hinting at. He was a powerful demon with a one-track mind.

“I'm sure we could find some kind of incentive for you….back home…..in a certain bedroom." You blushed and smiled.

Leo pretended to contemplate the offer and then snapped his fingers. He nodded and then grabbed your hand.

"Done."

You felt a new type of giddiness knowing that Leo was willing to help the people in the village. You were sure he would have done it regardless but he never missed a chance to flirt. He was so unlike his parents and you were thankful for that.

You walked for a bit in the town to make sure there was no other damage. The sign post in the town square somehow still had the wanted poster looking for the she-demon who sent her wolves after the hunters. You almost laughed.

"I can't believe this is still here."

Leo read the notice and then chuckled.

"Hmm….we should be mindful in the forest, then. That she-demon might pop out at any moment and attack." Leo snapped his fingers and the poster was instantly in his hands. "I'm going to keep this as a reminder to be careful."

You simply rolled your eyes at his antics.

"Papa! Papa!" A little girl came running into the square holding the biggest carrot you had ever seen. She looked around and spotted the person she was looking for. It was the man who had been so depressed earlier about his crops.

"Sweetheart," the man hurried the little girl who held up the carrot proudly, "where did you get that?"

"Everything is back, Papa! All our crops got back! I was running around the field and I seen this bit of orange in the ground and so I looked at it and it was a carrot! I had to ask Mama to pull it out cause I wasn't big enough. Mama said all the crops was big. She says you should come home so she sent me."

The man stared in disbelief for a moment and then picked his little girl up and swung her around. She squealed with excitement as her father ran down the street with her in his arms.

You turned to Leo almost in tears. Even Leo was smiling at the little girl.

You then heard the people around the square talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"What do you think happened?"

"Do you think our crops came back too? I should check!"

"I wonder if it's just crops…..perhaps the livestock is okay now."

Suddenly, all the people who had been so dispirited quickly and hopefully ran out of the square. Leo had to grab you quickly and teleport to the top of the church before you both got trampled.

You turned to Leo and placed a kiss on his cheek. He turned his head and smiled.

"Happy?"

"Very much so. Thank you, Leo."

"I should have known you'd help those humans." You looked around Leo and saw a woman standing there. She was elegantly tall. Her long legs were surrounded by a nearly sheer shirt and only covered the important areas. Beautiful long hair the color of the moon cascaded down her back. Her arms were crossed over her more-than-adequate chest. She looked at you and then focused on the feather you wore in your hair. After she realized what it was, she leveled you with a glare that would have caused you to hide in a corner if Leo wasn't holding you.

"What are you doing here, Cresenda? Shouldn't you be at home taking care of that child you keep trying to convince everyone is mine?"

#vixx #taekwoon #leo au #demon leo #demon taekwoon #vixx au #taekwoon au #taekwoon fic #leo fic

20 notes · View notes

teetlesandnimjas · 4 years ago

Text

What if in the explosion the brothers got separated?

This is a villain turtle au- if you don’t want to read it you can scroll past! I know it’s a cliche concept but it was fun! And I like doing my own spin on things.

(Note in this au when they’re mutated they are a little older, young kids, as this idea wouldn’t work if they weren’t SEMI competent. They’re still 13, 14, and 15 in modern times, but when they’re first mutated Mikey is 3, Leo and Donnie are 4, and Raph is 5)

Donnie: got scooped up by Draxum in the end, and works as his assistant first, son second. He has a similar position to Foot Recruit; despite being fully capable of actually being useful, he is treated with little respect and does mundane tasks like running errands and fixing random, broken objects. He is trained constantly but is told over and over again that he is “not good enough” yet. Despite this he puts his heart into everything he does. Broken clock? Sure he’ll fix it and it’s got LAZERS now! This causes him to accidentally make problems, and Draxum thinks that Donnie is “a complete and udder fool” which is further from the truth. Villain Donnie is a lot like canon Donnie personality wise but a bit more serious. He does not approve of Draxum’s use of mystic powers, and resents using them himself. He refuses the axe Draxum tries to give him. Draxum has little regard for what Donnie thinks and does, and therefore has an awful relationship with him. And yknow Donnie’s abandonment and self-worth issues? Yeah crank that up to 11. Basically Donnie hates Draxum and the Mystic City, and the Shredder going rouge is the last straw. “WATCH ME! ILL WIPE OUT THE HUMAN THREAT WITHOUT YOUR STUPID MAGIC! YOU HEAR ME BARON DRAXUM- I DEFY YOU!”

Leo: made his way to New York via Senior Hueso. Originally I was going to have him raised by Hueso but then realized it wouldn’t make a lot of sense- so Senior Hueso picks baby Leo up off the streets but ever the wanderer Leo walks right through the GIANT PORTAL IN THE WALL. From there Foot Brute, attempting and failing to find members for the clan, picks up this tiny, promising turtle off the street. “What is that thing?” “I dunno but he’s cute- and we’re in need of members” “That is an actual child” “so?” And then Leo is raised by his two dad- I mean sensei. I put raised lightly. He was treated better than Donnie but he was never given a lot of attention, and therefore turned to causing trouble to get attention. And not just from his dads, from anyone he can. Causing mischief in the city actually helped him in his training, as he became very skilled at sneaking, fighting, and stealing. He butts heads with Foot Recruit a lot because of his constant need for approval and attention. She finds him genuinely annoying while he just views it as “playful teasing.” That comes back to bite him the butt upon meeting Donnie, who comes along to help make form the Shredder armor, but he does not want to be there. Forced to work together, Donnie gets sick of Leo’s crap real fast but they don’t really hate each other, but in the moment they needed to play it off like they did and therefore gave the impression to the other that they DID hate them. Confusing, I know. Draxum tries and fails on multiple occasions to nab Leo but if he does he realizes it’ll put a major dent in his plans. So he forbids Donnie to speak to Leo. But no one stops Leo from talking to him. But Donnie’s coldness and Leo’s cruel banter really doesn’t help them get along. The moment Shredder goes rogue and the Foot Clan collapses, Leo flees in fear. “What if” this and “what if” that but mostly because he tried to take out Shredder and ruined his clan name. But even on the street, Leo remains the same annoying, much more cruel and dark humored mutant.

Mikey: Got scooped up by the Mud Dogs and taken to Big Mama, dragging only Lou’s glasses with him since even as a toddler he picked up anything shiny he saw. I plan to draw the interaction between tiny Mikey and the Dogs (and how Mikey got his name in this au) but that’s a surprise. Anyways pretty quickly he got entered in the Battle Nexus. Think about the appeal that fight would have! Just a couple years of training and then bam! “Introducing Hakka-gu! Our youngest fighter ever- only 8 years old!” And having natural talent and capabilities he was an instant hit. And he wasn’t treated horribly, after all Big Mama couldn’t risk one of her most profitable champions running away. But he is still treated as nothing but that- a profit, a marketable product. No one calls him his real name anymore, no one cares about him, just his capabilities. When he gets injured it isnt “are you okay?” It’s “is your body okay?” And sometimes he’s treated like an idiot- especially by Big Mama. He was never taught language and has very botched speaking patterns because “intelligence isnt important for a champion.” Well eventually he has enough of that, and through a bloodbath, he is able to escape to New York. Now he’ll get respect- he’ll make them respect him. But he gets quickly spotted by the Foot Clan and Draxum, as he’s in the way. Upon finding out about the plans to wipe out humans, he knows he has to stop them. Who can respect him if THESE GUYS wanna take over the world? He’s not getting mistreated again. But when the Shredder goes rogue he panics- he cant stop it but... he knows who can. He goes crawling back to Big Mama and strikes a deal. A better champion. Better than him. And she takes it, although in the end she makes some... alterations to the deal. But this doesn’t stop his quest for respect, and he ultimately heads back to New York.

Raph: Savage! He’s alone, a young child who doesn’t know where to go. He panics, and rampages all the way to New York. After a good, long, temper-tantrum, he finds himself in an alleyway, climbing into a sewer. And there he eats rats, he sets up a not-so-homely-home for himself. He flashes in and out of his anger, but he is almost always emotional and looking for some sort of control in his life. He gets that through rampages, causing destruction in any way he can. Usually he doesn’t make TOO much of a mess but he’s brought down a few buildings in his time. Eventually, upon seeing a rampaging demon-armor in the streets and seeing 2 figures trying to stop it (at this point Mikey is getting Big Mama) he realizes there are others out there like him. And then begins a struggle for control not over the world, but over himself too. There are times he gains control and although lonely, he knows he must learn. He learns English in flickers, and it isn’t perfect, but he can communicate. He can talk to them. Now he just needs to stop hurting them.

Extra notes:

In this au the only one with their weapon is Donnie. Mikey and Leo are skilled with the weapons they have in canon (the Ōdachi and Kusari-fundo) but they do not have mystic powers. Raph is... well... Raph. He can’t fight with weapons well but he can pack a punch.

Mikey is still a chef and artist, taking a liking to the ability to create, but just like with everything else he “needs to focus on his fights” so he can’t have interests. A kid like Mikey HATES this and any time he can he sneaks away to bake and draw. Usually this is at 2 am.

Leo has anxiety. The minute something not in the plan happens, or a loud noise, or having to talk to someone without a script, he goes into fight-or-flight mode. He often finds that the answer is to fight.

Raph is not necessarily evil- he is an antagonist but he is not evil. He simply has no control and lashes out at everything. That’s why he stays in the sewers. Nothing down there’s moves other than rats, bugs, and the water. But he has to get violent urges out some how.

April is a reporter-in-training in the au, as she never met the turtles until after the Shredder incident. She’s immediately interested in it, as she is everything “supernatural” and she gets dangerously close to some of their fights. I don’t know how they meet yet or if she becomes friends with any of them.

After the Shredder incident, the only thing stopping each turtle from destroying New York is each other. Seriously. They keep getting in each other’s ways because “I want to take over the world, not THEM!”

They all have certain villain stereotypes. Donnie is sort of a mad scientist, Leo is a teasing, monologging villain, Mikey acts like a nut case but has a certain intelligence to him, and Raph appears as a total destroyer.

In the end they get redeemed and find out they’re family, but it takes a while. Mikey is the one to hunt down Draxum, while Leo stalks him. Upon finding this out, having 3 out of 4 looking for each other, they find each other pretty fast. And there’s a big dramatic apology scene with all 3 of them, and at first Donnie thinks they’re conspiring against him and ambushes them but is only met with three harmless turtles who refuse to fight him. They tell him what the deal is and Donnie is shocked. And then he’s pissed. “WHY DIDNT DRAXUM TELL ME!? YOURE LYING! LIARS! NO!” In the end he realizes the truth, but it takes a little “talk” with Draxum. And then Donnie nearly commits murder. Don’t worry they stop him. But there’s no Draxum redemption arc because Donnie would continuously try to commit a felony. April is also somewhere in there and like gives the brothers goodness lessons but idk where that fits in I’m still working this out shajajajajaj

#rottmnt #rottmnt au #villain turtle au #i love theeeeese #also sorry theres no cut i couldnt figure it out on mobile #YOURE GETTING ART SOON! IVE ALREADY GOT MIKEY!#TaNTalks #im sorry

54 notes · View notes

metaphoricallyroger · 6 years ago

Text

With Love, From Me to You - iv of iv [R.T.]

Summary: One-hundred ways to say ‘I love you’ over twenty-eight years.

Words: 3,265

Warnings: Implied smut. Language. Baby blues and pregnancy difficulties (at 77. 85.). Talk of illness and death (at 96. 98.).

Note: This follows both Bohemian Rhapsody’s and real-life events (generally for dates, minor plot etc.), picture whichever Roger you fancy! The title is taken from ‘From Me To You’ by The Beatles.

76. (1984):

“Can you believe he’s going to do this solo project? What a joke! Told me all I’d be is some dentist, too! As if I’d have ever done that.”

“Roger.” Heavily pregnant, listening to Roger screech about band problems, although extremely valid, isn’t at the top of your priorities at the moment.

“Four million dollars! I can’t believe it!”

“Roger,” you interrupt, louder now, “I’ve been having contractions since you left for the meeting. Could we please go to the hospital now?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having contractions?”

“Because you were too busy yelling to listen properly!” You breathe in and out deeply to calm your heart rate.

“I’ll drive you to the hospital.” He bends at the waist to help you up, which you ignore. Just because you’re going into labour doesn’t mean you’ve suddenly become incapable of caring for yourself.

“Who else would I want to drive me?” Despite feeling nauseous and racked with pain, you smile at your husband as you walk out the door.

77. (1984):

“Are you okay?”

“What?” You snap out of the daze you have been in, staring blankly at the artwork above Robin’s cot.

“You’re crying, love.”

“I am? I didn’t- I didn’t realise that I was.” You wipe at your cheek and hot tears follow.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me, I’ll try to help,” he offers.

“She doesn’t want to breastfeed and my arms are getting so tired trying to hold her up, I can’t do this. It’s too hard this time around.” You whimper and more tears fall, landing on the baby’s head.

“Can I take her for a moment? I’ll be right back.”

You pass the four-day-old over and he disappears out of the room, returning with a pillow from your bed. He sits next to you and puts the pillow on your lap and transfers Robin back to you.

“Rest her on the pillow, and I’ll support her neck, okay?” You make a noise of agreement and move your arm for Roger’s which quickly replaces yours.

“There, she can take all the time she wants to feed, I’ve got her. Now, you get your udder out.” You know he’s trying to make you laugh, and it does with a sniffle.

78. (1984):

“Did you know it’s been ten years to the date that we first kissed?” Robin lies against your chest, having her morning feed, beginning to daze as she has her fill of milk.

“You remember when our first kiss was?” Roger looks up where he sits with the three-year-old Zoe on his lap, who he is letting poke her fingers anywhere she likes, including up his nose on accident.

“Of course, don’t you?”

“I could never forget you making the first move, love.” He shifts in bed, careful not to jostle the now dozing baby and steals the first kiss of the next decade of your lives.

79. (1985):

For the first time in years, Roger had returned from a meeting with Miami in a fit. He’d left happy this morning, but you presume something had gone amiss during the meeting with Brian and John.

“I can’t believe he’d be that much of a coward to set up a meeting through Miami.”

“He’s your family, Roger. Besides, weren’t you telling me you haven’t spoken to him nor would pending Armageddon?” You watch him pace back and forth like a trapped zoo animal, a lion if you’re being specific.

“What the hell do you think he wants?” He ignores your quip.

“Maybe he wants to be a part of the band again. Or maybe he just wants to talk, apologise.”

“That’d be bloody right. What, he finally got sick of Prenter and his club songs? Finally decided we’re worth something to him?” His voice seems to gain an octave with every syllable.

“Hey,” you call, “don’t get angry at me. I’m team Roger. Always.”

“I’m sorry,” he collapses on the settee in the corner of the room.

“You don’t have to accept his apology. But at least hear him out. Maybe you could be the bigger person?”

His hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache forming.

“I hate that you’re always right.”

80. (1985):

“How was rehearsal?” You know it can’t have gone too well considering Roger went straight to the fridge for a beer without saying hello to any members of the household.

He bites his lip and his nostrils flare, making your eyebrows crease. His tone is solemn as he begins to speak.

“I really need to tell you something, but it’s about someone else and I got told I couldn’t tell anyone.”

You take Roger at his word and don’t require him to tell you. Something about this conversation has an overtone of loyalty, loyalty to whom, you aren’t sure. There is a small crease between his brows and he just looks sad.

“You don’t need to tell me. If it involves me, yes, I would prefer that you tell me, but if the person doesn’t want anything told, I won’t ask.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” His hands curve around your hips as he takes another sip of beer and you rest your head on his chest, listening to the percussive beating of his heart.

81. (1985):

The band have been working hard (harder than you’ve seen in recent years) in the days leading up to Live Aid. You know that the practise and days of only see Roger at bedtime are going to be worth it.

Roger crouches in front of Zoe after having put earmuffs on Robin who is testing her balance on your shoulders. The earmuffs go over her blonde waves and he holds them away from her ears so she can still hear him.

“These are so you don’t lose any hearing in your young age and your mother doesn’t divorce me.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Zoe giggles, not comprehending what Roger’s saying.

The size of the earmuffs on the four and one-year-old is almost comical.

“You’re an excellent dad.” You kiss his cheek tenderly.

You turn back to wave at him as you make your way to the side of the stage and can’t help the proud welling of your eyes as Queen takes to the stage.

82. (1986):

The rain that has tapped resoundingly against the windows and dampened the sound of the city has finally eased. Roger lifts his head to nibble at the crease between thigh and hip.

“Oh, look, the suns out again,” you say, sweaty and joyously. You rest your hand on your stomach and look down at the man between your legs.

You run your knuckles along Roger’s cheeks, your fingertips gliding over blonde brows.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Nope, you look good in that spot,” you return your hands back to the sheet whilst Roger’s head returns to its previous position.

83. (1986):

The party after Queen’s sold out Wembley shows is crowded with many people, most of whom you haven’t seen before, friends of friends of friends.

You sit in Roger’s lap, where he rattles the ice in the bottom of his now empty glass. You feel him shift under you as if to move you, but he yawns instead.

“Tired?”

“Mhm. It’s been a long day,” he sighs into your shoulder, flexing his fingers around your waist.

“Let me get you a drink,” you take the glass from his hand and stand up.

84. (1986):

“All the numbers you could possibly need are on the fridge,” you remind Roger as you move through the house, bags in hand.

“Don’t you worry about us,” Roger places a calming hand to your bicep, “we’ll have a right good time, won’t we girls?” The two angels look innocently up at Roger and nod.

“They’ve never been without me before.”

“You don’t trust me to look after my own children?” You ache to sooth the downturned lips of Roger’s.

“No, I do, you’re the only person I trust with them more than me. I’m just anxious.”

“Try not to worry about us, okay? I’ve got this. Go sort everything out with your parents.” His calming tone aids you in alleviating some of the panic you were feeling about leaving your kids alone for the first time.

“Okay,” you sigh, “okay.”

“Say goodbye to Mama, kids.” They both give you a hug and a kiss that you don’t want to let go of, but you do, if only to move onto Roger and cling even harder.

85. (1987):

“Why isn’t this happening?” Your tears drench your face as you sit, fully clothed, in a scalding hot bath.

Roger had tried to get you to take off your clothes but you ignored him, wanting to feel the weight of sopping clothing, forcing yourself to stay upright in the bath so you don’t sink below the water. It would be easy to do, at least your hair would be clean.

“We’ll just have to give it time,” he whispers into your hair, pressing butterfly kisses over the crown of your head.

You want to have another child with Roger. Having Zoe and Robin was easy, you feel as if your luck has now run out, and you ache with a fire you’ve never felt before.

86. (1987):

The restaurant Roger has booked a reservation at is fancy and bright, doing much to boost your mood after the past emotionally draining months you’ve experienced.

“After you,” Roger opens the door to the restaurant and guides you inside with a hand on your lower back.

87. (1988):

“How are you so calm?” You’re sitting on your hospital bed, going through the motions of contractions while watching your husband pace wall to wall in the private room.

“Done this twice before, remember?”

You clamber off the bed and pace with Roger, hands intertwined, as it helps you to feel like your labour is progressing rather than sitting, which feels like watching paint dry.

It’s Roger that cries this time when the midwife announces that the baby’s a boy, and it’s the sight of him holding his son, still sticky with newness, with such a look of awe that makes your own emotions bubble over.

88. (1988):

“Now, you have to be really quiet because he’s going to be asleep, okay?” Zoe puts her pointer finger to her lips and Robin follows, enjoying mimicking her sister.

Roger glances down at the girls and leads them to the living room where you sit with Henry in his baby capsule.

“Can I pet him?” Robin looks to you as she asks and you nod.

“Yes you can,” Roger laughs, “gentle, he’s still little.” He guides Robin’s hand, still too young to truly understand what Roger is saying. He helps her brush her hand across the soft skin of Henry’s forehead while Zoe waits her turn.

You sit back and watch the interactions with a soft smile.

89. (1988):

“Could you leave my shirt on?” You wonder, tilting your head back, trying to keep tears from spilling.

“What?”

Roger sits up on his knees between your bent legs, looking over your face with concern.

“I don’t feel comfortable naked any- anymore. I don’t look l-like I did at twenty-five,” you stammer.

“Hey,” he whispers, “This body has been a home for three beautiful children. This body has done amazing things that continuously leaves me in awe. I didn’t fall for you because of your body, I fell for you because of your heart and your mind, which hasn’t changed. I feel like you were a gift, made for me.” At every pause, a kiss is placed over your body, your fluttering eyes, nervous fingers, soft earlobes.

Tears, this time of happiness slowly spill from your eyes as you allow him to remove your shirt.

90. (1989):

Roger didn’t imagine his fortieth birthday beginning with the shape of your head moving up and down underneath the bed covers to be interrupted. But life, as it would seem, always has other plans.

“Mum! Henry spilt juice all over the kitchen table!”

“Can’t you clean it up yourself?” Roger hollers to your eldest. You pull back when you hear a crash and a wail that interrupts the once tranquil space.

“Sorry, rain check?”

“We had three too many children,” he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, you say that, but you enjoy it.”

“That I do.” The skin around his eyes crinkles when he grins, showing age but they have that same shine, looking just as young as when you first met.

91. (1989):

The obligatory first day of school photos was taken, except this time, Roger was home to be included in them. He made you take about a hundred of them with both girls, singly and in a group. Your favourite one of the day, which will be framed, is a picture of Roger holding both girls up, backpacks too large on and kissing his cheek. His grin is so wide you momentarily think it will split his face.

“Daddy, will you walk me to my class?”

“Of course, Bubs.” Roger changes his pace so that it is slower than Robin’s, and you don’t say anything. There’s still plenty of time to get to class after you dropped Zoe off to her own classroom.

“Daddy are you sad?” Robin’s blue eyes look up at Roger whose matching one’s look back at her.

“No, I’m not, darling.” Once you all make it to the classroom, Robin runs off without a glance back once she gives a hug and a kiss to both of you.

You make it back to the car, relatively in control of your own emotions, but Roger, you aren’t so sure. He keeps mumbling under his breath about

“Don’t go getting sappy on me now, Taylor.”

“She’s so cute in her little uniform though. Her shoes still aren’t bigger than my hand, how is she old enough for school?” You watch him push his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose to cover his watering eyes.

“Want a hug?”

“Yes please.”

92. (1989):

You hear the clatter of the hammer against the floor and many specific expletives which makes you grin, but you remain on the lounge, waiting for Roger to make his way to you.

“I just smashed my thumb and busted it,” Roger stomps into the room and heads towards the bathroom.

“Hold on, I’ll kiss it better.”

93. (1990):

“Do I need a tie?” Roger looks at you from where he’s stood in front of the cupboard, trying to decide, last minute, of course, what he should wear.

“Yes, you need a tie, you’re getting an award, Roger.”

“Which one?” He holds up two ties, a blue and a black.

“The black one,” you point, sitting with Henry on the floor who’s playing with blocks.

“Does this look good?” Roger turns around from the full-length mirror and your eyes grow wide.

You swallow roughly, squeezing down the ball of lust in your throat.

“Brings out your blue eyes, pretty boy.”

94. (1990):

“How’s Montreux?”

“It’s really beautiful here. I wish you could all be here too.” Despite the joy in Roger’s tone, you can tell there is a hidden sadness behind it.

“I wish we could too. But you know the kids have school otherwise I’d be there at the drop of a hat.”

“I miss you.” Your own heart clenches as you hear him take a shaky breath.

“I miss you.”

95. (1990):

Roger hasn’t picked you up in what feels like years, but he does today. Your legs wrap familiarly around his waist and your hand goes up to run through his hair. It’s tender and cozy, and he still smells the same, like home.

“I missed you,” you whisper against his mouth.

“I missed you more,” he breathes, connecting his lips with yours.

96. (1991):

The brightness of the albicant lighting from the bathroom wakes Roger despite the door being half-closed. He glances to the side, checking the clock, and noting the early hour and the still dark house. He pulls himself out of the warm bed and rubs his eyes.

“You okay?” He stumbles into the bathroom where you’re ridding Henry of his pyjamas after he’s been sick all over himself.

“Just let me get him cleaned up. Go back to bed. I’ll be there once I’ve changed his sheets and mopped the floor.”

You don’t want to bother Roger. You’ve never seen him so physically or emotionally drained and the fine lines that have appeared seem to have taken permanent residence on his face this year.

“No, no, I’ll do it for you,” Roger presses a kiss to his miserable, green looking son's forehead and then yours before exiting the room to find cleaning products.

97. (1991):

“Take a deep breath.”

The paparazzi and journalists have been camped out in front of Garden Lodge for what seems like forever, and have taken it upon themselves to slander every movement from those coming and going.

It aggravated everyone that had any contact with the people behind the garden walls and often sent Roger spiralling into a rage that ended with smashed glasses and broken cigarettes he no longer smoked.

“How the fuck is that going to calm me down?”

“It might. Just try it, Roger.” You both get out of the car and you grab onto his clammy hand, giving him a pointed, yet reassuring look.

Together you make your way through the swarm of locusts and keep your eyes trained to the floor, ignoring any allegations thrown at you. You both seem to release a sigh of relief once you make it behind the green door, it symbolising something akin to a boundary between worlds.

98. (1991):

You add the cards and the flowers to Roger’s surprise whilst your two oldest kids run around with their homemade presents, putting them into place. The pancakes border on barely cooked and burnt, which in turn makes them odd shaped, but you know Roger will appreciate it, especially because your babies helped make them. You also made your own batch of pancakes just in case which are cooked for everyone else to eat, but that is beside the point.

“What is going on in here?” Roger walks into the room, bleary-eyed and warm with sleep.

“Hey! Turn around, this is supposed to be a surprise!”

“Did you make this all for me?” He stares at the thoughtful display despite your warning.

“Happy Father’s Day. You always surprise me, but it’s your turn. You’re important in this family too.” You press a kiss to his cheek and pull out his chair for him.

99. (1991):

You aren’t used to having the weight of an awake Roger on your lap. You run your hand through his hair and gently tug every time you come to the blonde ends.

One of his hands grips yours tightly, resting against his hip with nails creating moon-like imprints on your knuckles. If your lashes weren’t already damp, the sharp feeling would have brought tears to your eyes.

“It’s okay to cry.”

Roger stubbornly shakes his head, eyes swollen and red, waiting for the break. The ticking of the clock in the living room creates a metronome that seems to count down to when he will allow himself one moment of respite.

“Yes it is, baby, it is completely okay to. You don’t have to be strong for anyone.”

With a whimper, he turns himself around and buries his face in your stomach, and icy heat spreads with the tears he finally releases.

100. (1992):

“I love you.” You whisper in Roger’s ear, standing side by side.

You get a squeeze on the hand in response so gentle you almost miss it.

A/N: So that’s it! I hope you all enjoyed? Thank you for taking the time to read these four parts and all of the likes, reblogs and comments, they’re very appreciated. If you ever want to request an imagine, feel free to send an ask or message me, I’d love to chat! See you all next time …

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody imagine

237 notes · View notes

ramblinganthropologist · 8 years ago

Note

I wish you would write a fic where.... Alistair tries he very very hardest to make the perfect dinner for Cahel - like, the boy spends days planning and forging - only for the central ingredient to be something Cahel is allergic to, and he has to either suffer through the meal or crush Alistair's pure little heart.

This one got away from me a bit, but I had fun.

Summary: Alistair’s making dinner! However, maybe he should’ve checked the ingredients first.Pairing: Calister, pre relationship.Words: 2540

---

How long was it supposed to go on foragain?

Alistair frowned as he stirred theconcoction sitting in front of him. He had been chopping and mixingfor about twenty minutes now, and it definitely wasn't looking likewhat he remembered. Sure, it was brown and had chunks of carrots init, but it had definitely smelled a lot better the last time he hadseen it. Of course, he had been 16 then, and not in the middle of aforest, but the ingredients had been the same.

Ok, so maybe he'd had to switch beeffor a rather gamy looking chicken and not all of the spices werethere, but there were carrots and potatoes. He had even managed toget a bit of milk from a rather dour looking farmer off the side ofthe road. No doubt he'd had to pay a little more, but it was worth itto watch it swirl through the strew as he poured it in.

“Says I should cook it over thefire for ten more minutes and it'll be ready.” The instructionswere written down on a rather faded piece of paper, stained with abit of the blood from the chicken he had cut up. Alistair had gottenit off a Chantry sister in the last town they had visited afternearly ten minutes of describing it. Part of that had been his fault– a bard he was not – but also because he hadn't accounted forregional differences. At any rate, it had been close enough that hehad been sure it would have the same effect.

Mabari Stew hadn't been named for thefact there was dog in it. Rather, it looked like the color of awell-bred mabari and summoned the dogs for miles around. It hadcertainly called him back for thirds when he had had it as a boy inthe abbey. It still warmed his insides, even in his memory as he satthere in front of the fire, stirring away.

The more he looked at it, the betterit appeared. In fact, Alistair was rather proud of his efforts as hewatched it bubble up. He had never been the greatest at kitchen duty,but he was better than Cherche by miles. Honestly, whoever had taughther what food was needed to pack it up. Even Dog had turned his noseup at that one.

His heart beat a little faster as heheard someone coming through the clearing. Cahel had gone off toscout ahead, both for food and enemies. The blood that dripped fromhis dagger wasn't accompanied by a rabbit, so it was clear what hehad found as he settled in front of the fire, wiping sweat from hisbrow.

“Found one of Loghain's lackeysnear the river bend. Wasn't going to go for it, but he pulled a knifeon me.” He started cleaning his own weapon in front of the fire.“Crows should get a good meal out of him, so at least there'sthat.”

He sniffed at the fire, glowing eyesturning to Alistair. “What's that? Smells good.”

“Oh, uh, it was my turn to makedinner. Nobody's back yet.” He glanced towards the pot over thefire. It should have been ready by now. “Do you want to give it atry? It be a waste if nobody ate it while it was hot.”

Cahel grinned as he put down hisknife. “Hot food I didn't have to kill something for? Count me in.”

The smile made his stomach flutter,but Alistair managed to ladle out a portion of the stew with plentyof chicken into a wooden bowl. The milk made the broth creamy andthick, and his stomach growled at the sight. However, he passed itover to the elf and sat back to watch his reaction.

True to his nature, Cahel sniffed atit first. His ears twitched, but the meaning was lost on the warrior.It must have passed some test – maybe if it was poisoned? - becausesoon he was digging into it was a gusto normally reserved forstarving dogs.

“Shit, is this chicken? I didn'tthink there was any left in all of Ferelden!”

Alistair chuckled as he started toladle a portion for himself. “It's supposed to be made with beef,but that's even rarer these days. Still good?”

The elf didn't answer, mostly becausehe was too busy eating. When he paused to breathe, there was a grinon his face that made something in his friend's stomach flop. Maybebeing so close to the flames made his face hot, so he bent down toeat his dinner.

Cahel had been right – it was good.Maybe not exactly like he remembered, but probably the best thing hehad eaten in days. Best of all, he didn't have to worry aboutspitting out arrow heads due to where he had gotten the meat. Thatalmost made eating a pleasure, apart from worrying about suddenattacks by darkspawn.

“Did you see the others while youwere heading back?” Alistair figured it was best to ask since thestew was still bubbling away. “Cherche and Sten were looking forfirewood, right?”

“Nah, that was Leliana and Miris.Mamae went to go find food since I was handling our fri-”

Suddenly, Cahel was holding hisstomach with his hand, eyes shut so tight it almost looked painful.Like a bolt, he was headed towards the nearest bush, leaving the restof his dinner behind. Alarmed, Alistair hopped up to check on him.

“Are you alright?!”

“Elgar'nan's balls... my stomachfeels like it's being ripped apart.” The elf groaned. “The hellyou put in there?”

Alistair didn't get to answer becausesomeone was aiming an arrow to his face. In the midst of theconfusion, Cherche had returned from her hunt. He had seen thosearrows countless times before, but having one pointed straight at himwas a new experience entirely. Suddenly, he could see why theirenemies tended to run from her.

As fast as he could, he put up hishands. “I-I...”

“Didn't figure you'd be the one toturn on us, shem.” Cherche kept her arrow knocked as she headedtowards the stew and sniffed it. “Out with it, what did you put inthere? I need to know so we can get a cure!”

Well, the night had certainly turned.Here his good deed was being turned into attempted murder. Somethingabout the best laid plans went right over his head as he felt hisface flush red. Now she was just taking it too far.

He still didn't want to face thatarrow. “Nothing! It's just chicken, milk, and some vegetables! Iate it too and I'm fine.”

Alistair even pointed to where theremainder of his ingredients lay so she could inspect them. Asexpected, Cherche never let him out of her sight as she headed overto them, eye critical. One wrong move, and he wouldn't need to worryabout the Blight killing him.

It was the milk she picked up first,cocking an eyebrow as she sniffed the bottle. She took a cautioussip, and much to his surprise she spat it out on the ground. Her eyeswere burning as she turned to face him, looking ready to kill.

“What the fuck is this?”

She shook the bottle at him. Alistairscowled as he took it back. “I told you, it's milk! It tasted fineto me when I got it!”

Cherche snorted as she worked toinspect the rest of the ingredients. “That's not milk. That's foultasting white water. No wonder he's sick. Probably has something init.”

Cahel was still alive from the soundof his quiet groaning, so it wasn't like he was going to die anytimesoon. Still, Alistair was beyond confused as he looked down at thebottle. He was beyond sure it was milk – the farmer had gotten itstraight from the cow after all.

“Unless cows have something otherthan milk in their udders, I know what this is.”

Those eyes were back on him again.“You milk WHAT?”

She was scowling now, though itlooked to be from confusion instead of anger. It was low, butAlistair caught her muttering under her breath, “Unbelievable, theshems milk cows. What'll they think of next?”

…

Well, things had just gotten morethan a touch weird.

By now, a few more members of theparty had returned. Wynne was among them, thankfully. She caughtsight of the tense situation and like always, came to play thecalming party. It was good for him, because he might've wound up deadafter all.

“Might I ask what's going on?”

It was Cherche who answered first,pointing at the bottle. “Alistair made Cahel sick with his damnedcow's milk!”

“Don't make it sound perverse,everyone knows milk comes from cows!” He paused, frowning. “Why,what do the Dalish milk?”

“Halla, obviously.” Her tone wasflat as she turned to the healer. “Can you fix him, grandma?”

With the attention off him, Alistairhad the chance to reflect. Since they had been near a Dalish camp nottoo long ago, he definitely knew what a halla was now. He went morethan a little pale at the thought of anyone trying to get milk out ofthe large white deer that helped the elves pull their aravels,especially given their disposition. Whoever managed that had to beeither crazy, lucky, or both.

“You milk deer and I'm the weirdone?” He shook his head. “Never mind, she's right. Can you helphim?”

“I'm not dying, you know.” It wasthe first time Cahel had spoken at all. In fact, in the confusion hehad returned to the fire, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.His other hand was still holding his stomach, and his pale skinshowed he wasn't quite out of the woods yet. Understandably, he gavethe stew on the fire a wide berth as he edged closer to Wynne forinspection.

The mage didn't seem extremelyconcerned as she stirred the spoon through the remaining stew. Infact, she even tasted a bit of it. When she didn't go running for thebushes, it was clear that nothing Alistair had done had caused theillness. That made him feel a little bit better, but it was still amystery.

“So... what caused it, Wynne?”

“I've read about this conditionbefore. Usually it affect those from Rivain or Nevarra.” Clearly,neither of those were the case when it came to the elf. “It'ssomething in milk that causes them to become ill. Maybe the Dalishhave a similar problem with cow's milk.”

Cherche nodded as she poked at thebottle in Alistair's hand. “Well, yeah. It's fucking gross. Tastesmore like foul water.”

“It's not so bad in the stew.”Cahel shook his head. “Wouldn't recommend it though unless you wantto feel like your innards are coming out.”

He gave Alistair a sheepish smile,maybe to signify there was no bad feelings between them. It didn'thelp, though. The warrior felt as though his stomach had turned intoa lead-filled balloon that was resting somewhere in his shoes.

So much for trying to do somethingnice.

“I would advise the both of you toavoid anything with cow's milk, then.” Wynne took another spoonfulof stew. “Unfortunate as it may be.”

Well, at least the rest of the partycould eat it. Still, Alistair slumped as he watched the rest of theircompanions file in for dinner. He had lost his appetite after thefirst round of accusations. The stew didn't go to waste, though. Bythe time dinner was gone, nothing was left of it besides a thin filmat the bottom of the stew pot.

It was a pain to get out, he noted ashe scrubbed it out by the river later. His knuckles were going whiteas he attacked it, wishing it would just wash out. He would've beenwell on his way to breaking the pot had another pair of hands pulledhim away.

“These ones you gotta let soak fora bit.”

Alistair looked over to see Cahelsitting next to him, resting his bare feet in the pond. He waslooking much better than earlier, even taken to biting into an applehe had found on the road. Much to the warrior's surprise, he offeredout a second one.

“Want it? It's still pretty good.”

He didn't get the choice – theapple was pressed into his hand. At least it was a green one –something about the red ones never tastes right. Alistair didn't biteit though; instead he rolled it between his hands, frowning.

“I'm sorry about earlier. How areyou feeling?”

Cahel swished his feet through thewater as he spoke. “Better; once my stomach settled it didn't feelso bad. Sorry about almost getting you killed, though. Had I knowthat your weird shem milk was going to make me sick I would've warnedyou.”

Alistair chuckled as he finally tooka bite out of the apple. It was tart, probably the kind that would'vebeen better in a pie, but still good. “That might be a good idea tolet me know about any other strange things you elves don't eat so Idon't wind up poisoning you again. Are apples still good? Do you eatbread?”

Now the elf was laughing, leaning onhis knees for air. “As long as you don't put any cow milk ineither, we're good. Now I'm wondering if halla milk would make youdrop dead or something. Talk about a secret weapon.”

Great, he was giving Cahel ideasabout how to end the human race. Still, it was nice to know thatthere were no hard feelings between them. If only his plans fordinner had worked out better. Oh well. At least the apples were good.

Neither said anything for a while asthey stared out at the bank, eating and splashing through the clearwater. It was a nice break after the last few days. As long as thedarkpsawn didn't try to attack them or Loghain thundered down aroundtheir heads, it might have even been a pleasant place to camp.

“Thanks for trying to make dinner,by the way. Don't think I got the chance to say it.”

A blush colored Cahel's cheeks as helooked away, towards the setting sun. “Next time I'll try makingsomething for you, ok?”

Alistair almost dropped the apple hewas holding. His face heated up, but he managed to stutter out astrangled, “alright then” before he couldn't speak at all. Thecold water was good for something, at least, as he felt as though hewas being boiled alive.

Maker, he was not good at this atall. Why couldn't everything be as easy at killing darkspawn andeating cheese?

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #Cahel Mahariel #Alistair Theirin #Cherche Mahariel #Warden x Alistair #Anonymous

11 notes · View notes

ecotone99 · 5 years ago

Text

“I wish that every time I made a joke or roasted somebody, a sitcom laugh track would play”

Granted, You enjoy the ego-inflating jaunts that reaffirm your previously self conscious and unpopular comedy.

Over time, some of your friends start hanging out with you less and less, afraid of being the punchline who gets berated by invisible apparitions. They all gossip behind your back about how your initially new found confidence has warped you into somewhat of a pompous prick.

One night, as you sit enthralled in your phone, your girlfriend chimes from the kitchen, “babe, your fish dinner is ready” you immediately take the opportunity, “thanks but, I won’t be eating you out tonight”

The loud, nostalgic mirth you’ve become immensely familiar with showers over you, under which you hear your girlfriend slam a plate on the counter in frustration. “I’ve had it with this!” She screams, as you don’t even glance up from your phone, a proud smirk smeared over your face. “It feels like you’d rather please these fake idiots than ME!” She declares, but you pay her no mind, you’ve heard this complaint a million times, and no matter what argument, you already know your answer.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, bitch. I’ll never be able to get ‘em off!” The audience booms even more, some snorting, even more shrieking in delight. Suddenly, and without warning, the gleam of a knife catches your eye. “Get out of my fucking house, you’re driving me crazy.” Her voice filled with seriousness, her eyes of fire, not that you would know, your still staring at a screen.

“Aw honey, why so serious, that time of the month, eh?” You say as you inch up her skirt with a finger. The voices light up once more, howling in amusement, clapping with approval. “Don’t you fucking touch me,” she lifts the knife more, “I don’t fucking know you anymore.”

In a matter of seconds, your mind races through all her back talk, all her non-compliance, she was JEALOUS of the laughter, she actually expected you to GIVE IT UP. That ungrateful bitch.

Your hand grabs hers, and forces the blade into her stomach.

Her face floated with pain, she tries to cough up one last comment, but nothing but blood spills onto you. “Holy shit,” you think, suddenly washed with regret, as your lover’s lifeless body falls back. You catch her in your arms, tears flooding from your face onto hers.

The voices are now silent. Your sanity has just cracked, you are enlightened by a sudden realization, “They were watching. They saw everything.” You scramble to the kitchen, still clutching the corpse like a rag doll. Your hair a horrible mess, your eyes bloodshot as you panic, “I must hide the evidence, no one can know, THEY CANNOT SEE,” your thoughts growing more delirious by the moment, you feel the blood course through your brain, you have unforeseeable urge to tear your skin off, the only thing stopping you doing so is how your hands are preoccupied at the moment.

Like clockwork, your body is chopping the corpse into messy little wedges, like cheese cubes or steak samplings. “Her dog eats anything that’s cooked!” you remember wishfully, thankful the dog’s in the crate upstairs. You lose touch to such a degree, you don’t even feel the hot blood turning cold and crusty on your skin, you’re 100% focused. Your hands start taking handfuls of the meat, tossing them into the skillet, still burning from the fish that were being prepared only minutes ago. Your vision completely clouded by red, dark thoughts.

As the meat lets out a sizzle, you suddenly freeze completely. The laughter. It’s back. It’s louder.

Ghosts echo their previous sounds, now with new found snickers and giggles, terrible chortling and chuckling as the flesh cries for help with every sizzling screech. The crowd crows and peals, rejoicing with absolute pleasure. The titters and tehees contrasted by booming guffawing and hy-yucks. Clapping so piercing you can feel the pain of those contributing, you can feel the tears spraying from their blinded eyes. You look around for the culprit, finding no one in sight.

“GET OUT OF HER FUCKING HOUSE, YOU’RE DRIVING HER CRAZY!” You scream to the empty sounds, gender ring with blood soaked hands to what’s left of the body on the counter. But the laughter only intensifies, their merriment unaffected by the screech of the skillet or your pleads for silent.

Your fingers dig deep into your skin, grinding flesh off of your skull to try and remove the noises by force. You scream enough to taste the blood of your throat, but even then you still hear the audience’s glee.

Finally, you can hardly hear the laughter. Sweet and udder bliss, as it is drowned out by the ooey-gooey sounds of digits mushing brain matter in your own head. A delicious smile of content takes over your face as your eyes roll back, and you lifelessly fall back.

But the dog upstairs still hears to roaring of people, as he barks for freedom, hungry for the taste of juicy meat he can smell all the way from upstairs! “I hope my mama saves me some!” he pants, “something yummy must be roasting!”

submitted by /u/madcreeps [link] [comments] source https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscarystories/comments/gy13qk/i_wish_that_every_time_i_made_a_joke_or_roasted/ via Blogger https://ift.tt/2MBy2JI

#Blogger #Story

0 notes

twitchesandstitches · 6 years ago

Note

4. What is their most embarrassing memory? 17. What are they like when they’re drunk? 20. Fears? 21. Favorite kind of weather? 22. Favorite color? 23. Do they collect anything? 61. When bored, how do they pass time? 78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy? For: Odina, Tamm, Wicke, Tionishia, Centorea, 18, 21 and Mama Defleni.

under read more because it got kinda long

4. most embarassing memory

Odina: Shit. Thisone time, uh. This one time, i was in the same room as one of thoseinfinite magic creating generators they dig up from time to time. Andyeah, me? And something with limitless magic? My ass got so huge itswelled up and got me stuck, right in a doorway. I was trapped therefor HOURS. Some shithead used me for furniture, they sat on my buttand slept there! God… so mortifiying.

Tamm: In my earlydays of learning to take on a bird form, I got lost in the body. Abody you take does have its own instincts and it can overwhelm yourmind; some take on a new form and it takes their mind, and theyforget who they are, becoming just another creature with faintmemories of someone who is gone now. Fortunately I didn’t go thatfar, but I did wind up eating carrion and little bugs. Theembarassing bit? A student saw me do it, and never let me forget…!

Wicke: OnceLusamine and I wore matching uniforms, along with our assistants, topresent the image of a united group to our backers, this being beforethe Aether Foundation became a distinct organization, mind you! Theproblem is, the tailors weren’t given my own… extreme…dimensions in mind and the hips were far too small! The skirt justshredded when i tried to walk; I had to spend all day trying to avoida wardrobe failure and I just know they noticed…!

Tionishia: I oncehad a human boyfriend and I greeted him with a hug so tight he… ah,had some back trouble. It was so embarassign! I learned the hard waythat humans are rather fragile, you know?

Centorea: As youknow, things around here tend to get more than a little odd with thetransformations. The first time I grew a few extra set of breasts onmy horse section, rather like an udder I suppose, I got… verymilky. And sensitive. And unfortunately I sat down on my speciallyadapted couch but didn’t realize someone was on it, and thatsomeone was Suu. There were complications but a long story short, aLOT of milk flooded everywhere and then right into her; she gotkaiju-sized and we had a DEVIL of a time calming her down…! Ugh.How dreadful.

Android 18: I gotsome energy absorbing relay coils installed and I dared Krillin totest them out with some ki projectile fastball. I caught ‘em, yeah.Not so good at the CONTROLLING the blasts thing. Accidentally losthold of the things and blew a huge hole in our house. Ugh, lookinglike a loser in front of your cute, tiny husband… awful.

Android 21: Ionce turned all of the planet Jupiter into a giant chocolate ball. Iwas AIMING for an asteroid, but, well, my aim isn’t always perfect!And of course, so much tasty sweetness got me hungry and I would haveeaten it all if I hadn’t been stopped…! As it is, well, now thereare more than one gaps in it.

Mama Defleini: Afriend hugged me from behind when I wasn’t expecting it and…well, I gushed ink EVERYWHERE. Milk ink, at that, over the entireauditorium. And since I was playing on a band at the time, there isphotographic evidence. Tends to come up when I am trying to beserious, which is not at all helpful!

17. What are theylike when they’re drunk?

Odina:Surprisingly mellow, a bit passive, but even more of a stone wallthan usual. Tends to just ignore everything.

Tamm: Very much abit of a chatterbox!

Wicke: Extremelysweet and affectionate, tries to be helpful and often just falls onyou.

Tionishia: Veryhuggy; this is both dangerous from her immense strength, and comfy,because at least her massive bust is soft!

Centorea: Becomesunexpectedly gloomy, but swings into happy mode for no apparentreason.

Android 18: Angrydrunk, MEAN drunk. She will fight you for looking in her generaldirection, or breathing near her and sucking up her air. She willfight you and it will hurt.

Android 21:Becomes very hungry and eats random stuff; will start chewing ontables and gets really sleepy, really fast.

Mama Defleini:Not really any change at all, but she becomes a bit more talkativethan normal.

20. Fears?

Odina: Shequietly dreads that, one day, she’ll turn on her magical powers andit won’t turn off; she’ll keep draining and growing without beingable to stop it. She’s also scared of getting caught up insomething that’ll go VERY badly for her, and get her killed orworse.

Tamm: Herdaughter killing her, again. Alternatively, she dreads the return ofthe loathsome True Fae from their mysterious realm, for when theycome, they will leave nothing behind.

Wicke: Beinghelpless to stop something truly evil and wretched, or worse, beingcomplicit in it. She dreads her own potential passivity.

Tionishia: Herimmense strength killing a human, or similar species. Just hug sohard, and then hear a horrible little snap. And then, blood onher arms, and a death on her hands.

Centorea: Failureto uphold her duties, so that her lord and her family dies on herwatch. More than that, she fears failing to uphold her oaths and thatshe may act in a dishonorable way, shaming herself irredeemably.

Android 18:Becoming destitute and homeless again, and worse, dooming her familyto the same fate. She would do anything rather than suffer such adoom, and it motivates her to some ruthless acts.

Android 21:Losing control of herself, and becoming a mindlessly gluttonous andcruel monster that would devour her own children, friends and alliesjust to slake the fiend she has become. She dreads the multiversebeing broken by her appetite.

Mama Defleini:She speaks little of her own fears. But in the depths, she has knownthat SOMETHING is coming, however distant, and she hears the echos ofsomething vast and indifferent to mortal suffering, and it is coming.She fears, more than anything, that the ages will come and destroyall that she has built… and worse, that she can do nothing to stopit.

21. Favorite kindof weather?

Odina: “I likeit rainy, a bit stormy. Feels good, you know?”

Tamm: “As longas it is wet, I enjoy it. Heavy rain is my preferred sort.”

Wicke: “I loveit sunny, more than anything! GIve me open sun and strong light!”

Tionishia:“Strong winds, and cool, dampness.”

Centorea: “Iprefer my days a bit cloudy, to be honest.”

Android 18:“Overcast. When it’s sunny, it’s too hot. Rain is not fun,either. Snow’s the worst. That shit can kill you.”

Android 21: “Idon’t have a preference, honestly! I like it cool, but that mayjust be my body; easier to hold myself together, and it’s not thatmuch of a fondness.”

Mama Defleini:“Mist and cool weathers please me the most.”

22. Favoritecolor?

Odina: “Red, Iguess?”

Tamm: “Purplesare lovely!”

Wicke: “I lovepink! It’s my favorite.”

Tionishia:“Yellows look cute and heroic!”

Centorea: “Ilean towards blues, I suppose!”

Android 18:“Black.”

Android 21: “Ido love greens.”

Mama Defleini:“Magenta, dear. Can’t you tell?” (Rubs her tentaclesaffectionately)

23. Do theycollect anything?

Odina: Collectsvideo games, preferably ones that are a bit more obscure or havegenres unknown in the modern day.

Tamm: Likes tocollect little knick-knacks and enchant them; her chambers andworkplaces resemble a witch’s cottage mixed with a magpie nest.

Wicke: Herfriends joke she gets younger boyfriends. She generally collectsplush toys of all sorts, ranging from obscure toylines to variationsof a given model, and takes pleasure in organizing them to the minutedetail.

Tionishia: Cuteaccesories and fancy hats!

Centorea:Collections of medieval books, old lore, and Arthurian legendry fromover the ages.

Android 18:Books. Until recently they were a luxury for her; they’reexpensive, difficult to carry on the go, and require careful keeping,so she was unable to have any until she and her brother came to theattention of the Red Ribbon army. Now she takes pride in being ableto get as many as she wants.

Android 21: Worksby influential figures she respects; also comic books and manga ofall kinds! She prefers lighthearted and jokey things instead of moregrim or serious material.

Mama Defleini:Apparently, ships. Not model ships or toys; ACTUAL ships. Presumablysome of these are relics from her time as the Kraken of legend, butshe’s diversified into spaceships in the here and now.

61. When bored,how do they pass the time?

Odina: “I liketo read. And enjoy the boredom; it don’t last long, usually.”

Tamm:“Birdwatching is usually a fine hobby to pass the time.”

Wicke: “I liketo take naps, dear! Or perhaps watch some television.”

Tionishia: “Iplay with the local pets; with the people we associate with, there’splenty to find!”

Centorea: “Iwork out! A knight must always refine her body, for it is her finesttool!”

Android 18:“Watch TV, I guess.”

Android 21: “Iread as well!”

Mama Defleini:“Painting, usually of visions I experience or of the unreal imageryI am heir to. It tends to give mortals headache to look at them, butI think they’re pretty.”

78. How do theyact when particularly happy?

Odina: Verymellow; tihs ia clue in itself, as she is normally very guarded andgrim. Any sign of happiness at all is a pretty damn big deal!

Tamm: Softsmiles, gentle asides, ocassionally some faint noises that sound abit like pleased chirps. She’s not too demonstrative of herfeelings.

Wicke:Ebulliently cheerful, almost radiant! She becomes a beacon ofemotional light!

Tionishia:Extremely huggy, to the point that her grasp over how much strongershe is becomes looser than usual, and spines are put to GREAT stresesfrom her hugs. From her arm strength, and her massive boobs; theymight be soft and milky but they’re also EXTREMELY heavy

Centorea: shetries to be tactiturn, in the image of the unflappable knight, butwhen super happy, she ironically acts more like the lady of a courtlyromance; flushng over small feelings, beaming brightly, and speakingin poetic phrase. It’s noticable since usually she IS somewhatstoic.

Android 18: whenhappy, she tends to loosen up a lot; she leans back, probably plopsinto a couch (possibly breaking it) and gets friends/family inaffectionate headlocks. Her happy tends to have a bit of the ‘flirtygirl bully’ vibe.

Android 21: Itcan honestly be difficult to tell, as she doesn’t act TOOdifferently from how she mght otherwise, but she acts a lot like herrobot son Android 16, whose core personality was her biological son;she gets a little more open, more expressive, and she doesn’t seemso closed off.

Mama Defleini: Ingeneral she affects an air of genteel cheeriness; there’s not a lotof interplay between her moods of ‘not super happy’ and‘genuinely super happy’. When she’s sincerely happy, though,she gets very warm and easy going, and parts of her body becoming abit more ink-goo than normal. She literally loosens up!

#anon replies #replies #ask meme replies #crossthicc!wicke #crossthicc!android 21 #crossthicc!android 18 #crossthicc!tamm #crossthicc!tionishia #crossthicc!centorea #my OCs #mama defleini #odina #Anonymous

0 notes

thedomestickitchen · 2 months ago

Text

baby caramel apples

baby caramel apples~ portion control by nature

My husband says I talk like an old lady sometimes. It's because I say things like "marketing" and "tiding up"...hmmm. So, the other day, I was marketing with my sweet mama and came across "lady apples"- little tiny sweet miniature apples. (Note: this is an updated post, my mom has been under Hospice care the past six months. She's stable, but reading this is a bittersweet memory for me) These are the "Lady Apples"

How cute?! Little things are always cute. Unless it's a little bag of cotton candy, that's not good. Did y'all know I'm little? I'm very height challenged at 5'. There. Secret is out. Like, if I ever meet Taylor Swift I'll look like a small child next to her. Same goes for basketball players, people over 5'6".... But, chances are, that's not going to happen. Such is life. I debated going all super-homemade-Betty-Martha-Crocker-Stewart and making homemade caramel to dip these in. But... with baskets of Halloween candy marked down 90%.... I went with some good old fashioned wrapped caramels. Key word here: DEBATED. Markdown got me.

Speaking of really good markdowns... Halloween costumes were 95% off yesterday. I found a cow costume complete with a pink rubber udder. It's the perfect Christmas gift. Really. I'm going to wrap it up and give it to my hubby as a gag. And, he did say he'll dress up next Halloween. Tee-hee. No, that's not his only gift. He will get a shiny bell to wear, too. UPDATE: This post is being re-vamped and , turns out he has worn the costume on several occasions. I am thinking of banning my family members from reading this site for the next month... that way, I can tell everyone what I bought/made/found. For now, I can tell ya about stuff for the hubby and my mom. They both don't come here. Now, I've got five kids, they don't read this either, so I can share with y'all the basic Christmas I'm planning. Basic gift wise. But extravagant on the memories and fun. Instead of stressing over money and gifts this year I am doing the five thing route. Five things: - something they want (this is where the fun toy comes in) - something they need - something to read - something to wear - shoes Of course there will be the additional things from family , but that's what I'm committing myself- and budget to. Anyway, back to apples: It's not rocket science. You melt the caramels, and dip the apples. Place them in a nice ant-free location to set up. Yes, those ants tend to know where the sweets are. Grrr. There must be a shortage of ant food outside, because they keep coming to my house to eat.

I felt my apples looked a little "naked" so I dressed them up with some melted chocolate:

baby caramel apples #ratingval# from #reviews# reviews Print Prep time: 5 mins Cook time: 10 mins Total time: 15 mins Ingredients 1 bag wrapped caramels selection of apples to dip; washed and dried. 2 tablespoons cream 1/2 cup chocolate chips, (to melt/drizzle) optional: chopped nuts, coconut, sprinkles to top Instructions Unwrap caramels and place in a microwave safe bowl. Add 2 tablespoons cream Microwave at medium power for 1 minute. Stir caramels and continue heating at thirty second intervals until melted and creamy. Add any toppings you may like that need to adhere to the caramel Dip each apple in caramel and place on wax paper or another non stick surface to set. If drizzling with chocolate, melt chocolate in microwave and drizzle over set apples. Store in the refrigerator Google Recipe View Microformatting by Easy Recipe 2.1.7 Read the full article

#dessert #easy #snack

1 note · View note

josephkitchen0 · 6 years ago

Text

The Doe Code

Oh, the game is strong with this experienced one… She knows the Doe Code all too well! Contractions about a minute apart.

Why is our goat in labor tonight?

Dutchess came to us bred, so we don’t know her due date. It is the perfect setup to activate the Doe Code.

Because it is snowing after over a week of springlike weather…because it is an hour until midnight…because my husband is coming home from a week in Alaska and will be landing just about the time she lands these kids.

But we have been played before, and the Doe Code mandates false alarms. So she is in the kidding pen and not the pasture, and a barn cam broadcasts every move to the warmth of the office. We casually bring in the suitcases and catch up.

Barn Cam photo of Dutchess feigning labor at Kopf Canyon Ranch.

Did she kid? Of course not. We were too calm, too ready. That violates every tenet of the Code. Catch them unprepared. Avenge the silly costumes, medications, tricks imposed on goats everywhere.

Dutchess crossed her legs and smugly stared into the barn cam.

Game on. No more contractions tonight. We would be wise to have the treats ready for morning.

Kopf Canyon Ranch Barn Cam photo of Dutchess, Doe Code activated. Legs crossed. No delivery tonight.

She held her hostages for 28 more days. Temperatures plummeted, life outside of her whims ceased. And I, the experienced midwife, was unable to delay a business trip any further and left town for a week. In the wee morning hours, with my husband alone in the house, she delivered quietly so as not to disturb his sleep. Quintuplets. He didn’t discover them until he was dressed for the office, leaving for work. I was unavailable by phone. Well-played, Dutchess, well-played.

Ready to Start Your Own Backyard Flock?

Get tips and tricks for starting your new flock from our chicken experts. Download your FREE guide today! YES! I want this Free Guide »

We’ve delivered our fair share of kids at Kopf Canyon Ranch. Depending on the breed,��goat gestation falls between 145 and 155 days. They cycle every 18 to 24 days, are in estrus between 12 and 48 hours, and ovulate from 9 to 72 hours after estrus begins. With all of that known, we can roughly calculate a due date. We can tell you the physical signs that indicate goat delivery is near: the ligaments at her tail relax, her udder fills and the teats strut to the sides, her vulva swells and she will begin losing the mucous plug. She will go off alone, vocalize, paw the ground…but don’t be fooled. These are not true goat labor signs according to the Doe Code.

It is not by coincidence that goat delivery is called kidding. You see, they give all of the indications of impending birth so you cancel plans to live life outside the pasture. Grocery shopping, celebrations, trips — not happening. Then, when you are near, they’ll go right back to business as usual. “Just kidding!”

Kidding soon? Not even.

“A due date is an estimate, not a promise,” cautions Catherine Salazar of Happy Bleats Dairy Farm in Texas, who has 13 years experience with the Code. “Goats have their own rule book and refuse to share it.” Her advice to bring a goat into labor” “Go grab a suitcase. Step outside and speaking loudly say…I’m not going to be home this week…sure looks like rain. Wow! Is that snow I feel? Sure hope they don’t kid yet…then walk away. Sneak back in and wait. She will kid any minute after that.”

photo by K. Kopf

A watched doe doesn’t kid. Kara Matthews of Riverstone Goat Farm in Virginia tells, “I was determined not to miss her first kidding since another first freshener kidded and didn’t tell anyone. I waited all day. I decided to take a small break and take a shower. I came out twenty minutes after I left her and she had given birth, cleaned them and they were up nursing! Twenty minutes and she did all that! The Doe Code is very, very real!”

Who suffers more at the hands of the Code? Clearly goats are confident that they will not burst if they wait just one more day…or three.

Weather is another truism in the Doe Code. Do not provide live radio in the barn. Any indication of a severe storm warning cues the does to deliver. Best to stick to a playlist.

Wendy Stookey, in Wyoming, relates (from her goat’s perspective) “I know you have provided me warmth, shelter, and a clean barn, but I really prefer to drop my kids in the snow, with 40 mile an hour wind gusts, when the temperature is in the negatives and it’s two o’clock in the morning. Just because!”

The Doe Code is universal. It doesn’t matter where you live. Deanna O’Connor raises goats in Alaska. “Last year, I lost my favorite doe to pregnancy complications. Not wanting to risk any others, we brought her first-freshener daughter into the house for a week before her due date because it was so cold and we were concerned she would have them outside. I slept on the couch so I’d be handy to get any pees and poops before she made messes and made sure she knew I was more than ready to catch any babies the second she decided to have them. Days go by… and she gets stir crazy. She begs so hard to go out that I relent and give her 15 minutes outside with the herd. No signs of impending labor, so I figure it can’t hurt to give her some space. During that time, in single-digit temperatures, she squeezes out triplets. First timer, triplets, under 15 minutes, underneath a plastic toy fort. The one time in a week that she’s unsupervised.”

Often, it seems more like a hostage situation than a pregnancy, both for the kids and the caretakers. When we have offered adequate ransom, they release the hostages — us and the kids, on their terms. Some breeders laugh about resorting to hiring professional hostage negotiators. Treats every time we check on them, top notch accommodations, lavish attention, praise, promises, and cajoling might produce kids…and it might not.

We have an Alpine doe, Poutine, that is a drama queen at delivery, unlike our stoic Kikos. As her time draws close, we pen her. She spent a week in the birthing suite, having her straw fluffed, meals prepared for one, regular visits with every need attended to, and treats. Another doe kidded triplets and Poutine was unceremoniously evicted to house the new family. Within hours, she was in the throes of labor and wanted her accommodations restored to her.

“To show I am unashamed, here is a picture of me and my abuser…notice she doesn’t look ashamed at all.” Barn selfie by Paula Smalling.

The Doe Code hinges on exhaustion of the breeder. Paula Smalling of Midget Meadows in Texas tells it best, as she gave us permission to share her real-time Facebook post. “I’m not ashamed of the abuse my doe has heaped upon me. I’ve had two hours of sleep in 48 hours. My hair is tangled. I can smell myself. My neck has a crick from dozing in a chair. I have dark circles under my eyes, my face is breaking out from the stress. My heart has raced at false moans, my arms are as empty as the promise of a new baby to cuddle and countless other cruel acts against my nurturing soul…I’m coming forward in hopes that ALL victims of the Doe Code will be unashamed at the abuse we have had to endure at the hooves of our does and raise our voices together for more humane treatment.”

After Paula had slept outside for two nights and three days, her doe Four Socks began showing goat labor signs late on the last morning. By evening she hadn’t progressed so Paula called the vet at 8:00 for an emergency farm call. The vet’s headlights pulled into the driveway at 10:00. As he parked, Four Socks delivered…and so did the vet — a $400 bill. Paula says “The Doe Code is real. It is a rite of passage for any goat owner.”

There are still unindoctrinated does, however. Does that breeders dream of. Kristen Jensen of Square Butte Meat Goats in Montana owns such a doe. #25.

#25 was due any time, but Kristen and her husband Matthew had made reservations for an overnight out of town and an all-day goat conference 400 miles away. They enjoyed the conference and drove straight home afterward, arriving at 1:00 in the morning. Exhausted, they went straight to bed and slept late the next morning. #25 twinned in the afternoon upon their return.

No matter what our does put us through, if the outcome is baby goats, all is forgiven. There is nothing cuter than baby goats! We are delighted with doelings…and secretly, so are they.

In the quiet of the night, as all of the goats bed down, the mamas murmur…and the Doe Code is passed to another generation.

The Doe Code was originally posted by All About Chickens

0 notes

beamansfork · 8 years ago

Photo

Our last mama is now in a kidding pen. Keeping an eye on Annabelle for the next day or two 😊 Her udder has filled up and she's acting a tad off this morning. Very subtle but enough for me. I always trust my instincts and err on the side of caution with my girls. (at The Farm at Beaman's Fork)

0 notes

josephkitchen0 · 6 years ago

Text

Goat Hoof Trimming Made Easy

Goat hoof trimming is a necessary part of keeping and raising goats. When a goat cooperates, hoof trimming can easily and smoothly fit into your regular maintenance routine. But if a goat persists in struggling and kicking, hoof trimming can become a dreaded and dangerous chore. The trick is to teach the goat to want to cooperate. The most cooperative goat is one that is familiar with your goat hoof trimming equipment.

Hoof Trimming Equipment

The two most important pieces of goat hoof trimming equipment are a pair of good sharp trimming shears and a comfortable, well-lit place where the goat can be easily restrained.

Ready to Start Your Own Backyard Flock?

Get tips and tricks for starting your new flock from our chicken experts. Download your FREE guide today! YES! I want this Free Guide »

Goat hoof trimming shears come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Over the decades I have spent a small fortune buying just about every style touted as being the latest best thing. Some of them pinch my hand when I squeeze the handles. Others are too large to operate with one hand. The blades on some shears separate on tough jobs. And most of the shears don’t stay sharp for long.

One day I was wandering down the tool aisle at Home Depot when I spied a pair of Fiskars Titanium Nitride Number Eight Shop Snips. They looked perfect for goat hoof trimming, and they turned out to be exactly that. Best of all, that first pair has remained sharp after countless uses. I have since bought a second pair so I can keep one in the doe barn and one in the buck barn.

Fiskars Snips are the only tool I use for hoof trimming. Other goat keepers use a variety of tools including a brush to clean off the hoof, a horse hoof knife for picking out debris, a utility knife for smoothing ragged edges, and a hoof rasp for tough hooves. I’ve tried some of these options and have never found them necessary or particularly helpful.

Some goat keepers wear gloves for hoof trimming, which is probably a good idea. A pair of work gloves will help protect your hands from getting cut with the snips. Tight fitting nitrile gloves will protect your hands from bacteria. Like a lot of other goat keepers, I prefer to use my bare hands, but I do keep povidone iodine handy in case I cut myself (or accidentally cut a hoof too deep and cause it to bleed), and I wash my hands immediately after trimming hooves. I also keep my tetanus shot up-to-date.

As for the comfortable, well-lit place to work, a goat grooming stand or dairy goat milk stand is ideal. An Internet search will reveal a variety of different styles, as well as plans for homemade stands. Some are made of wood, others are made of metal. Some are free standing, others are affixed to a wall.

Most stands consist of a platform with a stanchion, or head lock, at one end. With a free standing platform, you have ready access to all four hooves. When the stand is affixed to a wall, the hooves that are closest to the wall can be difficult to reach. For that reason, my wall-mounted homemade milk stand has a stanchion at each end. Both stanchions are hinged to the back wall. For milking, I lock the right-hand stanchion to the platform. For hoof trimming, I trim the hooves on the near side, then turn the goat around on the platform and lock in the left-hand stanchion to trim the other two hooves.

Using a platform for goat hoof trimming has lots of advantages. One is that the goat is restrained and at a comfortable height for you to reach its hooves. Another advantage is that you can sit while working. I have seen people hunch over a goat that’s standing on the ground, and just watching them work makes my back ache. By sitting comfortably you will do a better job and are less likely to injure yourself or the goat.

A note about Angora goats: An Angora goat is usually trimmed set back on its rump — a position used for shearing as well as for hoof trimming. If you try that with a mature dairy or meat breed, though, you’re liable to get kicked in the face.

A good light is essential for hoof trimming. Some goat keepers trim hooves outdoors, or on a covered porch. My milk stand is inside the barn and is not portable, so my handy husband mounted a pair of LED fixtures to the wall above and on either side of the milk stand to give me strong light no matter which hoof I’m trimming.

The two most important pieces of equipment for goat hoof trimming are a sturdy pair of sharp shears and a comfortable, well-lit place where the goat can be easily restrained. Artwork by Bethany Caskey

Training a Goat to Stand

It’s so easy to forget about goat hoof trimming until the job needs to be done. But a goat has to learn to stand on three legs while the fourth foot is lifted to be trimmed. Learning this skill takes time. The best time to start is when the goat is young.

Soon after my baby goats are born I start putting mama on the milk stand to check out the health of her udder. Letting the kids follow mama gives them time to explore and helps them learn that the milk stand is not a scary thing. After checking out the doe, I leave her on the stand with a little snack of goat chow and take the time to handle the kids, making a point to run my fingers over their legs and hooves.

When the kids are a few weeks old and still small enough to sit on my lap, I give them a gentle trim. A kid’s hooves don’t need much trimming, but I want to get them used to the idea.

When they grow big enough to nibble a little goat chow, the kids quickly learn to jump up onto the milk stand for a treat. If you train them to voluntarily mount the milk stand while they are young, and they get used to having their feet handled, you are halfway home.

Some goats readily accept having their hind legs handled. Others tend to panic and kick if anything touches their back legs. Rather than force the issue, work around it. Start by doing something simple, like using a dusting brush to sweep the milk stand platform. When the goat is used to this activity, lightly brush up against its hind legs. When the goat stops flinching or kicking you touch its legs with the brush, touch each leg with your hand. After the goat learns to accept having its legs touched, lift a leg just clear of the milk stand platform. Hold the leg until the goat relaxes, then let go. Don’t let go while the goat is tense or trying to kick. You want to make sure the goat learns that you are the one who decides when to put the leg down.

Eventually, you will be able to lift the hoof high enough to get a good look at the bottom. The first few times, just pick debris from the hoof without attempting to trim it. If you sense the goat is about to start fidgeting, stop and try again another day. Eventually, the goat will readily accept having its hooves trimmed. With some goats, acceptance doesn’t take long, but others require lots of time and patience.

Trying to trim the hooves of a grown goat that has rarely, or never, been trimmed can be a challenge. When a goat is really wild and not at all used to being handled, for safety’s sake begin by lightly touching its legs with a broom or long stick, which will give you some distance in event of a dangerous kick. Once it learns to accept having its legs touched from a distance, proceed as you would with a young goat with this exception: a hoof that’s in really bad shape usually needs several sessions to get right. Don’t try to do it all at once.

When a doe is used to being milked, but not having her hooves trimmed, you can usually work out the kinks by putting your hand on her udder (which she is used to), and then gradually move your hand to the top of her leg and slowly slide it down toward the hoof. This maneuver may go quickly or may take a couple of days until the goat understands what’s coming and doesn’t feel threatened.

Even between trims, occasionally touching or rubbing a goat’s legs, or lifting the feet, as a regular part of your maintenance routine keeps both you and the goat in practice. Stay calm and cool and never attempt to trim hooves if you’re feeling out of sorts.

When a hoof is overdue for trimming (left), the outside wall curls under, trapping mud, manure, and other debris. A properly trimmed hoof is flat at the bottom (right).

A hoof that is overdue for trimming (left) is long at the toe. A properly trimmed hoof looks boxy (right), with both toes the same length and the bottom parallel to the growth rings.

Trimming Procedure

A goat’s hooves are made of the same material as your fingernails. Like fingernails, hooves grow uncomfortably long if they aren’t regularly trimmed.

Wild goats live in rocky areas, where their hooves get worn down as they travel and browse. Some goat keepers try to imitate this habitat by creating an area of rocks and concrete platforms where their goats can play.

When a goat spends all its time in a barn or on a grassy pasture, its hooves just keep growing. After a while the goat can’t walk properly and, if the hooves go untrimmed, the goat can become permanently crippled.

How fast a goat’s hooves grow and need to be trimmed varies not only with habitat but also from goat to goat. Some goats’ hooves need trimming every two weeks. Some grow more slowly and may need to be trimmed no more often than every two or three months. The easiest time to trim is after hooves have been softened by grass dampened from rain or dew.

A goat’s four hooves don’t necessarily all grow at the same rate, and back hooves tend to grow faster than the fronts. A good practice is to check all hooves at least once a month, pick out debris, and tidy up ragged edges. Doing so keeps the goat’s hooves healthy and ensures that the job doesn’t become a chore dreaded by both you and the goat. By trimming often, you are also likely never to see goat hoof problems such as hoof rot (a contagious bacterial infection) or hoof wall separation (separation of the hoof wall from the sole).

When a hoof is overdue for trimming, the outside wall curls under, trapping mud, manure, and moisture, which can lead to infection and lameness. When you finish trimming, the bottom of the hoof should be level and parallel to the growth rings. The two toes should be the same length. To learn what a properly trimmed hoof looks like, study a newborn kid’s feet. The kid’s hooves are flat on the bottom and have a boxy look.

Goat Hoof Trimming Procedure

Do you have any tips for successful goat hoof trimming? Let us know and join in the conversation below.

Goat Hoof Trimming Made Easy was originally posted by All About Chickens

0 notes

josephkitchen0 · 7 years ago

Text

The Udderly EZ Goat Milking Machine Makes Life Easier

by Patrice Lewis – So what do you do if your arms hurt too much to milk your goats? And how can a goat milking machine help?

This situation happened to my friend Cindy T. back in 2014. Cindy is fortunate to work at home as a technical writer, which means she can take care of her family’s rabbits, chickens, garden, and six goats more easily than if she commuted. But because her job entails almost constant keyboard use, she found herself with a painful (though temporary) case of carpal tunnel syndrome during that summer.

“I had to depend on my husband to milk,” she recalled. “He’s not very good at it, but he did his best.” Cindy’s relatively minor CTS meant she was able to bring the condition under control by exercise, wearing splints at night, using a different computer mouse–and taking a break from milking her beloved caprines.

“My husband didn’t get any fonder of the goats after all was said and done,” she admitted.

Ready to Start Your Own Backyard Flock?

Get tips and tricks for starting your new flock from our chicken experts. Download your FREE guide today! YES! I want this Free Guide »

Recently over a potluck meal, I mentioned to Cindy my enthusiasm for a hand milking machine called the Udderly EZ milker, which I use with our cows. It can be adapted to any milking animal (not just cows or goats, but also sheep, camels, reindeer, horses, and just about anything else that lactates). I’ve used this milker to extract emergency colostrum from a cow after her calf was unable to nurse.

Cindy wasn’t interested at first because she associates goat milking machines with noise that would disturb the peaceful atmosphere of her barn’s milking parlor. But when I showed her it was entirely hand-powered, she grew enthusiastic. “You mean it’s not loud or disruptive?”

“No, it’s just a simple vacuum pump.” I demonstrated how squeezing the “trigger” two or three times would create a gentle vacuum that extracts the milk into a collecting bottle.

Cindy wanted to try it out on her goats right away, so one morning I brought over the pump, she set up one of her favorite nannies on the goat stanchion, and within moments she was getting milk into the collecting bottle.

“It’s clean!” she exclaimed, since the milk had no opportunity to be exposed to hair or dust or straw. When the milk flow slowed down, she pumped the handle twice more, then just held the milker while the milk streamed from the teat into the collection bottle. “I wish I’d known about this when I had carpal tunnel,” she mused. “My husband wouldn’t have had to deal with the goats.”

Help for Those who Need It

The Udderly EZ is a hand-held, trigger-operated vacuum pump that attaches to a flanged plastic cylinder. For those unable to milk their goats due to carpal tunnel syndrome, arthritis, fibromyalgia, lymphasemia, or any other painful or debilitating condition, the EZ milker offers a simple solution. The Ultimate EZ–the electric version of the goat milking machine–can milk both teats at the same time. It’s as fast as commercial milkers with less noise (and one-third the cost), so the animals hardly know it’s running. The silicone inserts are gentle even on engorged or misshapen teats, which often plague goats.

Proudly Made in the USA

So where did this nifty milker come from? It was a simple case of necessity being the mother of invention, and it came from trying to milk out colostrum from thoroughbred horses in the racing industry. Inventor Buck Wheeler said, “I knew there just had to be a better and safer way to collect the colostrum from these thoroughbred mares than the way we were doing it. Everyone was using either a 60 cc syringe by hand, or a women’s breast pump, and they did not work!”

Facing a sad case in which a thoroughbred mare had died, leaving behind a 10-day-old foal, Buck related, “I told the hired man to go buy some goat milk, and he came back with the goat and kid. He said it was cheaper to buy mama. The rest is history.”

Buck started the Udderly EZ company, calling it “a million dollar leap of faith and just by accident.” Its research and development started in about 2003, and they went into manufacturing and marketing in 2004.

The initial product was a hand-powered vacuum pump designed to extract colostrum from thoroughbred mares. Three or four squeezes establish the vacuum, after which the user stops squeezing so the milk can flow into the collection bottle. When the milk flow slows down, the user gives another gentle squeeze or two until the milk flows again.

The milker worked beautifully with horses. After listening to requests from clients, the company continued to improve and upgrade the milker and its silicone inflations (the tube which fits over the animal’s teat) and broadened their marketing. By adding three different sizes of color-coded silicone inserts into the extractor tubes, it was an easy and natural step to use this milker on other species: cows, sheep, different goat types, camels, reindeer, yaks…in short, any domesticated animal that lactates.

Photo courtesy of Buck Wheeler

It wasn’t long before an electric version became available, and after that a solar-powered version, making the milkers particularly useful for those off-grid or trying to minimize their carbon footprint.

From theses humble beginnings, the Udderly EZ hand milker became an international sensation among small farmers. “With a lot of time, experience, investment and listening to our clients, the Udderly EZ Hand Milker has become a household name,” said Buck. “It’s currently being used in over 65 countries and under many languages worldwide, and is used on sheep, goats, cows, horses, donkeys, and camels. The hand milker was instrumental in the development of its stablemate, the Udderly EZ Electric Milker.”

In this age of cheap imports, the Udderly EZ products are proudly and entirely made in the U.S.A. Buck Wheeler would have it no other way. Yet despite the international success, the company’s roots remain in humble agrarian lifestyles. Here in America it is the Plain People who have taken it to heart. Many Amish farmers use EZ milkers to make their job more sanitary and efficient.

Beware of Misuse

Some people have tried the Udderly EZ and came away disappointed, claiming damage to their goats’ teats because of the powerful suction of the vacuum. This is usually because they keep squeezing the pump handle beyond what it takes to start the milk flowing, creating a stronger and stronger vacuum until the teat becomes damaged.

The secret of successfully using the EZ milker–besides employing the correctly sized inflation–is to stop pumping when the milk is flowing well. When the milk flow slows down, pump another two or three times, but no more. Over-pumping will shut off the valve.

The EZ milkers are something like blood pressure cuffs: a little vacuum goes a long way. Just like a nurse would not continue inflating a blood pressure cuff on your arm until you were in extreme pain, neither is it necessary to squeeze the pump handle on an EZ goat milking machine more than three or four times, just long enough to establish a milk flow. More than that, and you might hurt the animals.

Multiple Uses

Udderly EZ milkers are not just for daily milking, though they’re superb for that function. Nor are they solely used to ease the burden of people dealing with medical issues in their hands and arms. They are also used for animals that need assistance: those with mastitis, or those with misshapen teats, making it difficult for babies to nurse. They’re also a superb aid for milking a sick nanny, which keeps the milk isolated from that of healthy animals.

On our farm, the EZ milker was instrument in saving a calf born to an elderly Jersey cow whose udder hung too low for the baby to nurse. I milked out the colostrum and bottle-fed the calf until the mother’s udder resumed less-swollen proportions and the calf was able to nurse directly. It’s the nature of emergencies to be unexpected, and without the EZ milker on hand, the outcome for the newborn calf might have been very different.

Back in the Barn…

After watching me use the Udderly EZ goat milking machine on her goats, my friend Cindy became a convert, particularly since she is likely to suffer from a recurrence of her carpal tunnel syndrome in the future. “I can’t take chances,” she said. “Something like this could be a lifesaver someday.”

On our farm, it already has.

The Udderly EZ Goat Milking Machine Makes Life Easier was originally posted by All About Chickens

0 notes