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theskywaslookingback · 3 years

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hands

“Somehow I thought the place would have been smaller,” Martin says, bag slung over his shoulder as he looks up at the cottage. “It’s nicer than I would have given Daisy credit for.”

Jon hums, pulling his bag out of the boot of the car they’d borrowed from Basira and letting the lid fall shut with a heavy thunk. The cottage sits nestled at the base of a large hill, surrounded by lush green grass and the last vestiges of summer flowers. Far off in the distance a couple of cows graze lazily, just small dark shapes in the dying sunlight. Bugs hum in the air around them. It’s small and quiet, just the kind of place Jon thinks Daisy might have liked, actually.

The cottage itself is stone painted a stark white, with dark blue, peeling shutters closed tight to the windows. One of the shutters lies broken on the ground, and the glass it had been protecting is spider-webbed with cracks. Two terra cotta flower pots sit on either side of the front door, both empty. There was no evidence that a welcome mat had ever been laid between them. To the left of the door was a box filled with what had once been firewood but was now damp with mist and rot. Jon shuddered to think about creatures they might find lurking in the bottom of that box.

“Charming,” Jon says, the corner of his mouth turned down in distaste. He finds the key in a false rock on the right side of the cottage, just where Basira had said it would be, and lets them inside.

It’s clear from the moment they step inside that Daisy had not visited this particular safe house in quite some time. The air inside the cottage is thick and unpleasantly cold, smelling of dust and age. Dust motes catch in the dim light of the bulb as Jon turns on the light, and he’s displeased to see cobwebs sitting stubbornly in the corners of the room. The wood floor looks old and worn, scratchy looking area rugs dotted along like haphazard patchwork quilt. Jon loathes to take his shoes off.

“Well,” Martin says from behind him, crowding in close, “at least the electric is working.”

Jon shoots a withering glare over his shoulder and steps inside, letting Martin close the door behind them. He drops his bag next to the uncomfortable mound of fabric that someone generous might have once called a settee and goes to check on the rest of the place.

Jon checks the taps in the kitchen and is relieved to find the water running. There’s an expired box of Tetley’s in the pantry that will have to make do until they can make their way down to the village to do a proper bit of shopping, and a couple cans of peaches that might be passable as dinner or breakfast if he can convince Martin to eat them.

He can hear Martin moving about in the sitting room, the creak of the windows and shutters as Martin pushes them open to get the place aired out a bit. “Might be a bit chilly with the windows open,” Jon says.

“There’s a radiator,” Martin replies, “I’ll see about getting it on.”

“Right.”

The hall light flickers when he turns it on, but it gives him enough light to see by. The cottage itself has only four rooms - kitchen, sitting room, one bedroom, and one bath - and Jon can’t bring himself to be surprised that the only bed appears to be a full size. He checks the dresser drawers and finds them empty, thankfully, no nesting mice or other visitors.

The bed is a utilitarian thing. One pillow, though he’s frankly surprised it even has that, white sheets with tight tucked corners, and a navy blue duvet. Jon pulls it off the bed to shake off the dust and sneezes, his eyes watering. He opens the single window with a little difficulty, having to stand on his tip-toes to get it all the way open, and unlocks the shutters. Night has settled quickly over the little valley, but the moon is bright and nearly full, pouring silver light into the room.

When Jon makes his way back into the sitting room Martin is crouched in front of the radiator and frowning, the sleeves of his button down shirt rolled up to show the light brown skin of his forearm. He has a birthmark on his left arm, nestled next to the crease where his arm bends, a dark spot like a smudge of dirt that Jon wants to press his mouth to.

Jon clears his throat, the tips of his ears burning a little. “Any luck?”

Martin jerks a little, swinging his head up to look at him. Jon feels his mouth go a little dry at the sight if he’s honest. Martin’s dark hair sweeping over his forehead, those sleeves rolled back on those thick arms. He likes the look of Martin at work, those calm dark eyes fixed on a problem that Jon knows he’ll find a solution for. Martin sweeps his eyes over Jon, head to toe, before looking back at the radiator. “I don’t know what Daisy did to this thing, but I think it’s well and truly dead.”

“Did you try plugging it in?”

Martin gives Jon a glare worthy of one of his own and Jon feels his lips turn up into a grin without his permission. “It’s a gas radiator, Jon.” He sighs, “Hopefully the gas is just turned off and it’ll be an easy fix, but we’ll be stuck without it tonight.”

“That’s...not ideal.”

Martin hums in agreement.

Silence settles between them, a not unwelcome weight that Jon’s been getting used to the last few days. “Tea?” Jon asks after a moment for lack of anything more helpful to do.

“That would be lovely, actually. Did you find some?”

“Daisy had some in the pantry, it’s likely ancient, but--”

“Tea is tea.”

Jon wrinkles his nose but doesn’t outwardly disagree.

“I’ll just get some things put away then,” Martin says, picking his bag back up off the floor. “Do you want me to take yours?”

“Leave it. I’ll get it later.”

“Alright.”

Jon finds Daisy’s kettle under the sink and starts to wash it out when he hears Martin say something from down the hall. He turns off the water. “What?”

Martin appears in the entry, biting his lip. “There’s er, there’s only one bed.”

Jon furrows his eyebrows. “I’m aware. I saw the bedroom, Martin.”

“Yeah it’s just--“ Martin trails off, his cheeks flushing. “How are...how are we going to sleep?”

Jon remembers the two days they’d spent in his flat, sleeping in the same bed, their hands tangled together even when sleeping because the thought of being separated was too much to bear. But that had been right after Jon had walked Martin out of the Lonely, so he supposes those were extenuating circumstances, Martin needing an anchor to find himself again. It should be a relief that Martin feels safe enough to want a little distance again, but mostly it just sets off a dull ache in his chest.

Jon feels a sharp pain in his jaw and realizes he’s been clenching his teeth and makes an effort to relax, though his shoulders feel pinned next to his ears. Jon goes back to washing out the kettle, filling it with cool water to boil. He avoids Martin’s eyes and says, “I think there might be some spare linens in the closet. I can take the couch.”

Martin shifts, the old wood floor creaking under his foot. “Are you sure? It doesn’t look very comfortable.”

Jon shrugs. “I’ve slept on worse, when I do manage to sleep. It’ll be fine Martin.”

“Alright. If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Jon says with a finality he doesn’t feel.

He finds a couple of mugs in the cupboard that he rinses out before filling with water and letting the tea bags steep. He brings the mugs back into the sitting room and sets Martin’s down on the table. He takes a sip of his own and grimaces. It’s vile, but far from the worst tea he’s ever had so he makes himself drink it.

Martin appears a minute later from the bedroom and takes his tea with a grateful little thanks before taking a sip and making a face.

“Tea is tea.” Jon mumbles.

“I’m not sure this still qualifies.” Martin says but drinks it anyway.

They drink the rest of their tea in silence. Martin volunteers to do the washing up while Jon gets his own things put away.

Martin has left him half the dresser for his clothes and made a space for him on the bathroom counter. It feels almost too intimate, their toothbrushes resting side by side, their clothes in the same drawer. Jon tries desperately not to think about it as he changes his clothes for bed and rifles through the little linen closet for a set of sheets.

He finds a set of dark gray sheets and a threadbare red throw blanket that he drags back out into the sitting room. The settee is as uncomfortable as it is ugly, hardly more than a couple of boulders masquerading as a sofa; Although, Jon has spent many a night sleeping on the floor or bent over his desk at the Archives, so maybe he has no real right to complain.

Martin turns off the kitchen light and waits awkwardly for him to finish, hovering around the edges like he wants to say something but doesn’t have the words. “Are you going to be warm enough?” He finally asks, eyes locked onto the throw blanket. The fabric is almost sheer in spots from wear and dotted with holes along one edge.

The chill is almost impossible to ignore, but Jon just shrugs, a jerky up and down motion of his shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, if you’re--“ Martin bites his lip, “Okay. Good night, Jon.”

“Good night, Martin.”

Martin disappears into the bedroom, turning the hall light off, and Jon lets out a shaky breath when he shuts the door behind him with an audible click.

Moonlight seeps in through the open windows, the chirp of crickets ringing along the countryside, a chill settling across the fields as if to prove winter will be along soon. Even in his long sleeve and trackie bottoms, two pairs of socks pulled up over his feet, Jon shivers. He keeps staring at the ceiling, tracing along crisscrossing cracks with his eyes. He kicks his feet and wraps the blanket further up his shoulder and tries to relax. The walls creak and shudder, old pipes groaning and settling inside the wall. Jon throws an arm over his eyes and tries not to think about it. He’s almost asleep when he hears the floorboards start to creak, the soft padding of footsteps coming from the hall.

“Jon?” Martin’s voice is soft, a little strained and raspy like he’s anxious, “Are you still awake?”

Jon sits up, rubbing a hand down the side of his face. “Yes, I’m still awake.”

“Oh,” Martin says. Jon can’t quite see him, can just make out the shape of him, long legs and broad shoulders. His arms wrapped around himself like he can’t keep warm. “It’s...it’s cold, isn’t it.”

“Yes.”

“Might--” Martin clears his throat, “Might be easier if we slept together, yeah? Until we get the heating back up.”

“Are you--” Jon pauses, picking at a loose thread on the blanket, “Would you be okay with that?”

“Would I?” Martin blurts, “I, uh, would you? Be okay with that?”

“Of course. We shared before.”

“Yeah we…” Martin takes a step further into the room. The edges of him blur just a bit, and what Jon can make out of his face looks exhausted. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t, it--” Jon chokes on his own honestly, the lump of it hard and solid in his throat, “It’s okay when it’s you.”

Martin’s mouth drops open into a little ‘o’, a shocked exhale of breath coming from him.

Jon immediately wants to take it back. It’s too much, Jon knows, he’s always been too much at exactly the wrong time. He curls his fists into the blanket pooled at his waist, fighting back the sharp wave of panic that ‘this is it, this time he’s ruined it for good’.

“Okay,” Martin says softly, his lips turning up into a small smile that’s both soft and a little sad, “come on then, maybe we can still get a few hours in before sunrise.”

Jon swallows hard. The panic sits there in his chest, silent and waiting. “Okay,” He chokes out, “alright, let me just--” He gets up and takes the blanket with him, just to have something to do with his hands and follows Martin into the bedroom.

It’s just as cold in here as the rest of the house, but the way Jon’s fingers are trembling has nothing to do with the cold. He picks the side closer to the window, if only so he has something to stare at when he can’t sleep. Martin curls up next to him. The bed is so much smaller than his own back in London. Martin has to draw his legs up just to fit on the mattress, too tall and wide for the little bed. Jon fits just fine, but he’s a little worried about rolling off the mattress during the night. They’re perched precariously, sharing the same pillow, Martin’s warm breath at the back of Jon’s neck.

Eventually Martin sighs. “Here,” He says, shuffling a little behind Jon, “Can I--?” He hovers his hand over Jon’s waist.

It doesn’t-- it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just that the bed is too small for two grown men, despite one being below average height, and it’s cold besides. That doesn’t stop Jon’s heart from beating hard and loud in his chest though, as he slowly nods.

Martin’s hands are large and strong and lovely. Jon’s breath catches when Martin’s arm curls around his waist and he’s pulled back against Martin’s chest. He can feel Martin’s heart beating against his back, thudding almost as loud and hard as his own. Martin’s fingers settle over his stomach, splaying out. Jon thinks his hand could almost cover it completely and it sets off another round of shivering in him that has nothing at all to do with the cold.

“Alright?” Martin whispers.

“Yes.”

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m-- it’s cold, Martin.”

Martin hums thoughtfully and lets go of Jon for just a moment, long enough to pull the duvet up higher around them before settling his hand back against Jon’s stomach. Jon curls his own hands in front of his face and grabs the blanket so hard his knuckles ache.

“Night, Jon.”

“Good night, Martin.”

Jon is sure there’s no way he could fall asleep like that, pressed so close to Martin that he can feel the warmth of him all along his body, but eventually he does.

[READ THE REST ON AO3]

#fic #my fic #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #these are the ways that i love you

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pregnant-piggy · 3 years

Text

Reminds me of home

Jesper Fahey x reader

words: 5.5k

warnings: mentions of food and animals, reader’s mother is dead, no pronouns used for the reader

A/N: this is my first time writing Jesper, so I struggled with his character and don’t think this is totally right, but I loved writing this too much not to share it with you :) please let me know what you think, thank you!

The sun was setting slowly in the sky, painting orange strikes on a gradually darkening canvas, when Jesper checked the note in his hand one final time, before stepping onto the driveway of the old farmhouse. Around the farmhouse lay a yellow-green grass lawn, with on the left side of the house a little garden with flower beds in full bloom. Behind the house stood the stables and sounds of breezing horses and bleating goats filled the air, along with the lingering scent of drying grass.

The front of the house was covering in shadow, the red bricks and woodwork a tone darker than they would be in the sunlight. Above the front door hung a single lamp, and the flickering of the fire inside of it wasn’t enough to compete with the light of the setting sun.

Jesper groaned as he walked over the driveway to the front door. He wondered what the odds were that he had pulled the farm out of the stack with hideouts.

A week ago, Kaz had come with his plans for a new job. This time the victim was a rich merchant, who had a large estate in the country lands outside of Ketterdam. The merchant’s name was Klaas Rover and he was well-known in wealthy circles.

Just recently, Rover had bought a very pricey DeKappel painting and Kaz had found out that he was moving the painting to his country-estate at the beginning of that week. The basics of the plan had been easy. As long as Rover wasn’t at the house and the painting was, it would be impossible to get it with all the security. But, according to Kaz, there would be one moment of weakness in the security. From the morning Rover would step foot into his mansion to the night he’d fall asleep there, the merchant would want to showcase his painting to everyone who’d want to see it. That night had been the night to strike.

And so had Kaz done. He had set out with a small team; Inej and Jesper had been at his side, followed by two other Dregs, Pieter and Roos. The whole operation had gone according to plan and the painting had come off the wall and outside without a hitch.

That was why it had come as a surprise when Kaz had pulled out three pieces of paper with the notion that they had to hide for a couple of days. Inej had gone with Kaz, Pieter and Roos were together, and Jesper was alone.

‘Remember, you are Thomas van Dijk now,’ Kaz had said before they had parted ways. ‘You are a student and stranded alone after a trip with your fellow students. I know the people there and they will take you in.’

Kaz had disappeared before Jesper could say anything and he had seen no other option than to follow Kaz’s orders.

So now he was standing in front of a farmhouse, silently cursing his friend before knocking on the door.

A broadly built man opened the door and eyed Jesper suspiciously. This one tried to keep his easy posture and smile, but he felt himself grow slightly uncomfortable under the gaze of the man.

‘What do you want?’ he asked brusquely.

Jesper swallowed and his hands automatically reached for his hips, finding nothing but air there as he had hid his revolvers in his bag, figuring it wouldn’t be too great of an entrance. He scratched the back of his head and let out a nervous chuckle.

‘I’m Thomas van Dijk,’ he started, wondering if the man would ever believe him. ‘I uhh… I was out with friends—a break from studying, you see? And this morning when I woke up they were gone and they took all transport… so I was wondering if I could perhaps stay here until they pick me up again?’

The man glanced at Jesper for a while. ‘D’you know farm stuff?’ he then asked.

‘Sure,’ Jesper shrugged, figuring that it couldn’t be all too hard.

‘Alright, then,’ the man nodded and stepped aside to let Jesper in, ‘you can stay here for a few days.’

Jesper sighed relieved and walked into the farmhouse, only realising inside that he had had no plan if this hadn’t worked out.

The interior of the house reminded Jesper of his home in Novyi Zem. The walls were painted in a warm colour green and an old rug lay on the stone floor. On the wall in the little hall hung a portrait of a beautiful woman standing in a field of wildflowers. She had long hair framing her face, falling down in curls around her shoulders. The woman looked like she was in her late thirties, but she had a smile that was ageless.

Jesper followed the man into the next room, which was the living and dining area. There was an open door that led to the kitchen, from where Jesper could smell whatever the man was cooking. Another door probably led to a staircase, Jesper figured by the shape of the little space behind it.

The main room was an extension of the hall. The same green coloured the walls here and more paintings hung on the walls. Jesper recognised the woman in more pictures on the wall, and sometimes she was accompanied by a child.

Jesper looked around, wondering where the rest of the household was. Kaz had spoken about more than one person, but so far Jesper had only seen one; and that one was standing right in front of him.

‘You can sit there,’ the man said and pointed at the chairs around the table. ‘You want dinner?’

‘I’d really appreciate that, sir,’ Jesper said and the man nodded before he disappeared into the kitchen.

-=-=-=-=-

The sky was dark and the last rays of the sun were setting behind the horizon when you heard the bell from the kitchen, telling you that dinner was ready.

You always spent so much time outside that your father had given up on trying to find you for dinner. Instead he had installed the bell to let you know when you had to come home, and when you cooked you used it to get your father back home.

You got up from your spot on the ground next to Klara. She was the oldest cow you had at the little farm and she had been your mother’s favourite. However, two nights back Klara had suddenly fallen ill and so far she hadn’t improved yet. You had spent the last two days neglecting your duties at the farm to take care of her. Klara was the one thing that was closest to your mother and you refused to say goodbye to her too.

Silently you slipped from the stables and walked back to the house. There was light burning behind the windows and you saw the silhouette of your father inside, sitting at the dinner table. In a flash you thought you saw your mother there too, but as you blinked the image fell away.

Stepping through the backdoor in the kitchen, you kicked off your boots and shrugged off your coat. Quickly you washed your hands and face and arranged your hair, before you walked into the living area, knowing that your father liked you to not be messy at dinner.

‘Klara’s not any better,’ you said as you walked into the room. ‘She’s just lying still and—’

You stopped talking as your eyes found the stranger at the dining table. He was sitting opposite of your father, looking at you with a smile. The boy could be not much older than you were, but by the way he was clumsily sitting in the chair, you saw that he was a lot taller than you. His dark-skinned body was clothed by a dark green suit with flashy, golden buttons, lined with a silky lime-green fabric. Below his dark eyebrows two eyes glittered merrily and his smile got a little more confident as you sat down at the table.

‘What’s going on?’ you asked your father.

‘This is Thomas,’ your father answered, nodding towards the strange boy. ‘His friends ditched him and he needed a place to stay for a few days. With the situation around Klara, I figured a little help at the farm wouldn’t hurt.’

You stared at your father for a moment and then turned to Thomas. ‘Are you from the city?’

The boy nodded. ‘Yes, I go to the university in Ketterdam.’

‘What happened?’

‘We had a few days off and decided to go on a trip here. But when I woke up this morning my friends had left. I have no transport home and after searching for a place to stay all day, I got here.’

‘Nice friends you have,’ you mumbled and something in the boy’s face turned bitter.

‘Don’t get me started,’ Thomas said and then he smiled at you.

-=-=-=-=-

Jesper was woken early by a heavy, pounding headache. The sky outside was pink from the sunrise and with the figures of the trees and houses it looked like a painting to Jesper—one that was far more beautiful than the one he stole from Rover.

As he rolled over in his bed and reached for his temples, it didn’t take long for Jesper to realise that it wasn’t his head that was pounding—there was someone at the door of the room. Groaning Jesper sat up in his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the sleeve of the shirt that he had borrowed to sleep in.

‘Coming, coming,’ Jesper groaned when the knocking kept going.

He opened the door and was met with your eager face, painted with a big smile. You chuckled at Jesper and shook your head. ‘Come on, Thomas! Work doesn’t wait!’

Just for a split second Jesper was confused as to why you called him Thomas, but then he realised that the whole show he was putting up here was nothing more than that; a show. You didn’t know who he really was and, if he was honest, Jesper did feel a little guilty about it. You were so kind to him and he hadn’t even given you his real name.

This was not the time for morale questions, however, and Jesper shook the guilt off him. ‘Right,’ he said slowly and then glanced into his room, finding the bag he had dumped on the floor. He had not brought anything other than his guns, the clothes he had been wearing and a little money. ‘Do you perhaps have some clothes I can borrow?’

Half an hour later, Jesper was standing in the stables next to the house with a buttered slice of bread in his hand. He was wearing a linen blouse and trousers of rough material that you had given him. He felt naked without his guns resting on his hips, but taking them with him had been out of the question. Now he felt like the Jesper he had been before he had gone to Ketterdam—poor, weak and unskilled.

You came back with a large sack in your arms, that you dumped into Jesper’s arms. He stumbled under the sudden weight, but managed to keep his balance.

‘My dad’s out on the fields today, so we have to take care of the stables,’ you said. ‘If you feed the chickens, I’ll do the goats and then we’ll get together again, okay? Don’t forget the eggs!’

You turned around and walked off and Jesper was left baffled. Unsure, he turned and walked to the chicken coop, finding a bunch of chickens there. A fat, white one looked up when Jesper stood over the coop and cooed softly. The chicken kept staring at him as he walked around the fence and Jesper slowly began to freak a little.

He put his hand in the bag with food and grabbed a handful of seeds that he threw as far away from him in the chicken coop as possible. All the chickens rushed to the food—including the fat, white one—and Jesper quickly stepped over the fence and lowered to his knees so he could reach into the henhouse. He was met with the angry eyes of another chicken that was still sitting inside the house. She pecked at Jesper’s hand while he tried to find the eggs that you wanted.

When he finally pulled back, he had found six eggs. His hand was throbbing and even bleeding at some places. As fast as he could he walked away from the chicken coop back to the stables, where he dropped the sack with food on the ground and sat down next to it, examining his hand.

After a few minutes you came back from the goats and the smile on your face changed to worry when you saw Jesper sitting defeated on the ground.

‘Are you alright?’ you asked.

Jesper quickly jumped up and nodded, hiding his hand behind his back. He forced a smile on his face and tried to look excited at you. ‘I’m perfectly fine.’

You squeezed your eyes at him but dropped the subject. ‘Okay, if you say so,’ you mumbled and then nodded your head to the back of the stables. ‘We have to check on Klara again before we go on.’

‘Klara?’ Jesper asked.

You walked off to the back and Jesper followed you, ending up at a dark stable where a big cow was lying on the ground, breathing deeply. She had her eyes closed and Jesper thought she was asleep, but when you stepped into the space, the cow opened her eyes and looked up at you.

‘This is Klara,’ you unnecessarily explained. ‘She is our oldest cow, but it’s not looking so good for her now.’

You lowered to your knees and rested your hand on top of Klara’s head. The cow closed her eyes at the feeling and let out a deep breath. You closed your eyes momentarily and as a troubled shadow crossed your face Jesper realised that Klara wasn’t just another animal at the farm to you.

‘Will she be alright again?’ Jesper asked, standing awkwardly at the entrance of the stable.

‘I really don’t know,’ you sighed and you looked up at Jesper with sad eyes. ‘She’s not worse than yesterday, but also not any better.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Jesper said and he tried to give you a reassuring smile.

You got up from the ground and gave Jesper a little smile back. ‘Thank you.’

-=-=-=-=-

Later that afternoon Jesper was sitting with you in the shadows of the house, looking out over the fields that surrounded the farm. Somewhere far in the distance he could see the figure of your father, as a little black silhouette against the bright light of the sun.

Jesper was exhausted. Although he considered himself in good shape, the work on the farm was completely different from what he usually did in Ketterdam. Normally he would crouch, run and hide, but today he had had to use brute force and the running had only applied when one of the goats had gone after him.

‘And,’ you said as you handed Jesper a glass of water, ‘how do you like it here?’

‘I’m so tired,’ he whined dramatically and you laughed, throwing your head back. ‘But it looks beautiful here. I like it—reminds me of home.’

‘Where’s home?’

Jesper hesitated for a moment, considering where his actual home was.

‘I grew up in Novyi Zem, on a jurda farm,’ he told you, while staring out at the fields. ‘My dad still lives there, works on the farm now that I… am going to the university in Ketterdam…’

Carefully Jesper looked aside after his slip-up, but you hadn’t caught it. With your legs tucked to your chest and your arms wrapped around them, you were sitting in the chair, taking in the sunlight with your eyes closed. There was a soft golden glow on your face from the sun and the point of your nose glistened.

‘...I guess that’s my home now,’ Jesper continued. ‘Ketterdam.’

‘Hmm,’ you hummed softly before you opened your eyes and looked at Jesper. ‘What’s it like? To live there?’

‘You’ve never been to Ketterdam?’

‘I have, but never for a long time,’ you said, giving Jesper an innocent smile.

‘It’s… busy, noisy, crowded. There’s people everywhere, at all times of the day. When it’s hot the canals stink and when it rains the entire city turns grey. The rich people are mean and the poor are gross. It’s never safe and there’s a lot of crime.’ Jesper stopped talking to take a breath and noticed you were watching him with a raised eyebrow. Then he smirked. ‘It’s amazing.’

You leaned back in your chair and huffed. ‘I think I prefer the silence of the country.’

‘I get that. On my first day in Ketterdam I wondered how I could ever live there. I was sick with longing for home and the farm.’

‘What happened?’

Jesper grimaced. ‘I got a taste of real life.’

You waited for Jesper to continue, but he said nothing. He couldn’t really, not if he wanted to obey Kaz’s orders. Again he felt bad for you, for lying to you. You were so kind to him and all he did was lie about who he was; you didn’t even know his real name.

-=-=-=-=-

You stepped out of your room while the sun wasn’t even up yet. The house was silent and dark, but you could easily find your way to the room you were headed for. This was the house you grew up in and you knew every secret hidden in every dark corner.

‘Time to wake up!’ you said through the door and you knocked shortly.

Yesterday, Thomas hadn’t been of great use with your animals, but you hoped that today he would. He had told you that he had grown up on a jurda farm so you figured fieldwork wouldn’t be as hard on him as the goats.

There was a grunt from inside the room and you had to stifle a laugh. Once again you knocked—a little harder this time—and the grunt from inside came back louder. Yet there was little movement in the room and you rolled your eyes and grumbled something about lazy rich boys from stupid universities, before you threw the door open.

‘What—hey!’ Thomas cried out. ‘I said I was coming!’

‘Sounded a lot more like you’d just roll over again,’ you said, leaning against the doorpost with your arms crossed.

Thomas murmured something incomprehensible and he threw the blankets off of him. ‘If you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just asked, you know?’ he smirked as he swung his legs off the bed and stretched his arms over his head.

‘Hmm, if only I wanted,’ you shot back, but you couldn’t keep your eyes from gazing at his chest anyway. It was dark, but your eyes had gotten used to the darkness enough to be able to see the lines and shapes of Thomas’ bare body. There was no denying his fitness, but what caught your attention more were the scars littered over his torso. From small, almost innocent lines to light-coloured circles and dents. For the simple student he claimed to be, he had an awfully damaged body.

You averted your eyes from his chest and shook your head. How this boy’s body looked was none of your business, so there was no point of dwelling on it. Yet, as you turned around to leave the room, you found yourself fighting the urge to get closer and feel his body under your hands.

‘You like waffles?’ you asked over your shoulder, seeing a big smile break on the half-naked boy’s face.

-=-=-=-=-

Your father had worked on the fields yesterday, and most work had been done already. All there was left for you and Thomas to do was harvest the potatoes on the last piece of land and then sort them with the rest. It was heavy, dull work and you were glad there was someone to help you.

Thomas and you were bent over the crops, working opposite of each other on a row of potatoes. The sun was shining on your back fiercely and you felt it burning on your neck. It was long too late to prevent the sweat from breaking out and you felt hot and sticky.

Opposite of you, Thomas wasn’t doing much better. Little droplets of sweat were rolling down his temples and the shirt he was wearing was soaked with his sweat. Yet there seemed to be some sort of glow around him, like he was energetic still—even after the hours of labour.

It was late in the afternoon when you pulled out the last of the potatoes. You and Thomas dropped down on the grass on the edge of the field, both sighing with relief that the hard work was over.

‘Only sorting left,’ Thomas said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. ‘How long will that take?’

You squeezed your eyes against the afternoon sun as you looked at the boy next to you and shrugged. ‘About two hours, I guess.’

‘Two hours in this heat is an eternity,’ Thomas stated.

‘We could do it tonight,’ you suggested. ‘After dinner, when it has cooled a bit.’

‘And what do we do until then?’

You shot Thomas a cheeky smile and got up from the ground. ‘I have an idea.’

You led Thomas through the sunny fields and over the meadows around the farm, ignoring the sunshine in your face. Eventually you slowed at large bushes and a few trees and you smiled at the boy before you pushed aside some branches and stepped out into an open spot with a small lake.

Thomas burst out in laughter and turned to you with a big smile on his face.

‘Last one in the water has to get the other drinks!’ he shouted as he threw off his shirt.

You followed after him, stepping out of your shoes and trousers. As you ran towards the water you took off your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind you on the grass. You pushed off on the side and wrapped your arms around your legs as you jumped into the water next to Thomas with a cheer.

The cold water engulfed your entire body and you happily welcomed it after the whole day of sun. Gasping for air when your head reached above the water again, you turned to Thomas.

‘You were last!’ he exclaimed.

‘Only because you were already in the water when you said it!’ you defended yourself and splashed water towards Thomas.

‘Still counts!’

He pushed water back and you closed your eyes against the waves. Water dripped down your hair and face, getting stuck in your eyelashes. You blinked the drops away and swam a little closer to Thomas.

Planning to create a huge wave, you lowered your hands in the water, when you felt something slimy slither past your foot. You squealed and leaped into Thomas’ arms, almost drowning him with the sudden weight. Terrified you scanned the water around you, looking for the thing you had felt.

‘What’s wrong?’ Thomas asked, trying to keep you in his arms while staying above the water.

‘I felt something!’ you squeaked, still looking around you.

‘Don’t tell me you’re afraid of fish,’ Thomas laughed.

‘I am not! I just freaked because I—’ you started but stopped when you quit looking and found yourself very close to Thomas.

That same deep urge as this morning crawled inside your mind before you could stop it. Despite yourself you admired the simple beauty of the face so close to yours. This boy had something enchanting, and it was more than just his jokes and smirks. Something about him made you want to cling onto him and not let go.

You did let go, however, and quickly swam back to the side in silence. Thomas followed you and climbed on the grass, offering you a hand so you could get out of the water yourself.

As you got dressed—with some difficulty because you were both still wet—far in the distance you heard the sound of a bell, telling you that dinner was ready.

‘Finally,’ Thomas said, as he pulled his shirt over his head. ‘I was beginning to worry we wouldn’t eat at all.’

-=-=-=-=-

Jesper was sitting alone at the back of the house with two large baskets of potatoes in front of him. Luckily it had cooled down and it was now pleasant to sit outside.

You stepped out of the house with a tray in your arms. Two glasses of lemonade and a plate of biscuits stood on the tray that you put down on the ground between Jesper and you, before you sat down yourself.

‘How generous of you,’ Jesper started, as he took the glass. ‘Almost like you didn’t lose the race.’

You shook your eyes as you took a biscuit, which you used to point at Jesper. ‘That race wasn’t fair, and you know it.’

‘Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.’

You rolled your eyes but there was a smile on your face nevertheless. Then you nodded towards the baskets.

‘Two piles,’ you said. ‘One with small potatoes and one with normal and large.’

You took out a few potatoes and showed Jesper how to determine the size. He got on quickly and you were already starting on the second basket when your father called you away.

Jesper continued on his own while admiring the sunset he always missed in Ketterdam. He loved living in the city and wouldn’t want it any other way, but in moments like these he did miss his old home. He missed the simplicity of life back then, of knowing exactly what was going to happen in your day. Living in the city, living with the Dregs, had taken that certainty from Jesper.

The sun had almost completely set when you came back and the last rays of sunshine reflected in the tears on your face. You sat down with a sigh next to Jesper and before he could ask you what was wrong, you burst into sobs.

Before thinking, Jesper dropped the potato in his hand and crawled to you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to his chest. He didn’t know where the action came from or why he did it, but seeing you so heartbroken hurt Jesper’s own heart.

You buried your face in Jesper’s neck and he wrapped his arms a little tighter around you. He could feel your quivering breaths on his skin and your tears soaked his shirt but he didn’t care.

‘It’s okay,’ he whispered and pressed a kiss on the top of your head without a second thought. ‘Let it out. It’s alright.’

After a while your tears stopped and your quivering breath changed for hiccoughs. You lifted your head from Jesper’s shoulder and looked at him with an apologetic look, that he discarded immediately.

‘Don’t even dare to apologise,’ he said and you laughed softly. Jesper wiped the tears from your face and cradled your head in his hands. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s Klara,’ you said as Jesper dropped his hands from your face to your hands. ‘My dad went looking at her and she’s doing even worse than before. I know she’s just a cow and everything, but she’s the strongest connection I have to my mother and I just…’

You looked up at Jesper and smiled sadly. ‘I don’t know, it probably sounds weird.’

Jesper shook his head and gave your hand a little squeeze.

‘It doesn’t sound weird,’ he said, thinking of how he had clung to the littlest thing of his mother after she had passed.

You sniffed and smiled at Jesper. ‘Thanks.’

‘Of course,’ he said, as he sat back next to you, taking a new potato in his hand.

You followed his example and for a while you worked in silence, until Jesper took the last potato from the basket and threw it on the pile left of him. He turned to you and found you staring at the dark sky.

‘What was your mother like?’ he asked finally, giving in to his curiosity.

‘She was perfect,’ you said and you smiled faintly ahead of you. ‘She was caring, kind and smart. She kept things going around here. There is not much to do, but she always made sure I was never bored.’

You laughed shortly and turned to Jesper. ‘Perhaps I’m a little biased; she was my mother after all.’

‘Maybe,’ Jesper said and he gave you a smile. ‘But you’re allowed. Who better than kids to judge a parent?’

‘She was beautiful too,’ you added. ‘Did you see the paintings? My dad used to paint a lot, but since my mother passed away he hasn’t picked up a brush. It’s a shame, I think he’s really talented.’

Jesper nodded. He had wondered why the paintings had only been of the woman young, but she hadn’t aged anymore after that.

Now that the sun had set, the warm air slowly turned cold. Jesper fought the urge to wrap his arms around his own body. He looked at you and noticed the goose bumps on your arms too. He got up and offered you his hand.

‘Come on, let’s go inside,’ he said. ‘It’s freezing out here.’

You took Jesper’s hand and followed him to the backdoor of the house. When you walked past the path that led to the stables, you slowed and pulled lightly on Jesper’s hand.

‘Can we…?’ you asked and before you had finished your sentence Jesper nodded.

‘Of course.’

The stables were warmer than outside and though Jesper still hadn’t gotten used to the smell he much rather be there than outside. He much rather be there with you than alone in his bed.

Klara lay in the back and you let go of Jesper’s hand to rush over to her. You dropped to your knees next to the cow and wrapped your arms around her. Big tears rolled down your cheeks and the soft sound of your crying filled the barn.

Jesper sat down in a pile of dried hay and stared at his hands as he listened. After a while your crying stopped and only the heavy breaths of Klara could be heard. Feet shuffled and when Jesper looked up you weren’t sitting next to the sick animal anymore but next to him.

Your cheeks were still wet from the tears, but you managed to give Jesper a little smile. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. Slowly he leaned back in the hay until his back found support and he was almost lying down.

Without needing more words, you pulled your legs on the hay and settled against Jesper’s body. With one hand to your own chest and the other rising and falling with the motion of Jepser’s chest, you quickly fell asleep.

Jesper glanced down at you and almost got unwell by the sense of comfort that washed over him. The longer he looked at you the more that little bubble of guilt in his stomach grew, but before he could do anything about it the hard work of the day took its toll on him and he dozed off.

-=-=-=-=-

You woke up in a pile of hay by something that was nudging your leg. Slowly and grumbling against the bright morning light you opened your eyes to find a cow standing in front of you.

‘Klara!’ you cried out and the happiness that filled you at seeing she had recovered during the night drowned out all the sleep left in your system.

You jumped up and stumbled to the cow, throwing your arms around her neck. A few tears of happiness escaped your eyes and they dropped down on Klara. After last night you really didn’t think she would recover anymore, let alone be standing on her own feet.

As you hugged Klara, you suddenly remembered that you hadn’t been alone last night. You let go of the cow and returned to the hay you had woken up in. Instead of the boy you had fallen asleep against last night now lay a little note.

Good morning sleepyhead,

My friends finally picked me up early this morning and you looked too peaceful to be disturbed. I want to thank you and your father for letting me stay at your humble farm. It did me good to be out of the city for a while. I want to thank you as well for your company and honesty. I really hope Klara gets better—she seems quite cool.

I know you don’t like the city, but if you ever accidentally find yourself there and you miss my sparkling presence, go to The Crow Club and ask the bartender for Jesper Fahey. They’ll know who to find.

Take care,

Thomas

- - - - - - - -

taglist: @is-it-really-a-secret @mrs-brekker15

MASTERLIST

#jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey #jesper x reader #fahey x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #crows x reader #the crows x reader #soc #shadow and bone imagine

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sadlysoulx · 3 years

Text

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS GOING TO IKEA

Part 2 (w/ Hinata, Kageyama, Sakusa, Oikawa, Ushijima and Tendou)

I really really like the idea of haikyuu boys going to Ikea, the part 1 is on my account so pls feel free to read it. As u can see. . . Double post😏😏😏 I want to spoil y'all coz ur my bbs😌✨ please enjoy ❤️ THANK YOU FOR 49 FOLLOWERS 😭💓✨

Hinata

Please this ball of sunshine's never been excited to go to a furniture shop

He likes it because he loves picking up mysterious tools.

GURLLL, THE MOMMENT YOU STEPPED IN IKEA HE GOT LOST😭

You got so nervous coz you can't find your boyfriend in the sea of people.

That is until the speakers blared out, saying:

"L/N Y/N, please come to the office, your child has been found,"

And you were like: wait I have a child???👀👄👀

But then you figured it's probably Hinata

So you went in the office to see Hinata pretending to crying his eyes out

And then when he looked up, he said to the staff:

"yeah. . . That's my mom,"

You:👁️👄👁️

Employees:👁️ᴗ👁️

Hinata: 👁️〰️👁️

After that, you made sure Hinata doesn't leave your sight.

He sat in that cart where your supposed to hang the yellow ikea bag.

Hinata likes to point to things you don't need and tries to convince you to buy them.

"Y/N. . . Please! Look it's so cool, you just have to spin this and then your pencil would be sharpened!"

"Ooooooh! Y/N we need to get that folding table!"

"WOW! Y/N, Y/N, babe! Look at that sofa that can turn into a bed, let's have one!"

But ofcourse you didn't buy them🙅

After buying things you need, you went to the Ikea food court to have lunch.

This baby likes the kiddie meal where you are given a colored plate filled with nuggets and french fries.

Please, Kuroo and Bokuto had a huge influence on him since they also like kiddie meals.💀

He also likes the Ikea meatballs<3

But then after that, he convinced you to let him go to the Ikea Kid playground.

Since he's a small baby, the Ikea staff let him in😭😭😭

(pretend there's no height limit)

Your watched through the window outside as he played.

He settled in the pool of plastic balls playing with other kids.

And then he went up climbing the big dust pan with those ropes and surrounded by plastic balls😖

He watched cartoons with other kids❤️

But then he immediately went out because he made a kid cry by accidentally cursing at them💀

Hinata may be a fluff ball but sometimes Tsukishima is a bad influence for him 🤦🏻‍♀️

Kageyama

ಠ_ಠ expression always on

When you wanted to show him something and ask if it's nice, he would nod and just be like: ಠ_ಠ

Seriously, when you show him a kitchen knife, he would nod and say:

"It's nice you should buy it,"💀

When you show him a useless kitchen tool, he would nod and say to buy it.

Help this boi✋🏻😭

He doesn't know how to shop😭

Buuuuut when it comes or the bedroom area, he would sit on it and lay down.

Kageyama would drag you on the bed and make you lay down beside him, not caring if people gave you weird looks❤️

He keeps on insisting to get a new matress because the one he's laying on is soft.

And then he mentioned how you need to buy a new bedframe because the both of you broke the ones in the house.😃

BECAUSE YOU WERE JUMPING ON THE BED SEEING WHO CAN JUMP THE HIGHEST.

He was bored whenever you stop by to check something out

So he stands behind you like🕴️

And one time he accidentally made a kid cry😭

He just tried to make the baby laugh with "funny faces"

But then he ended up making them cry¯\_( ˘_˘)_/¯

You know that part of Ikea where there are really tall shelves with full of boxes?? Yeah that one

It's so adorable how he looks up at them with his chin up in the air like how a child would look up on an airplane 😖❤️

Oh yeah and he insists on buying those cute tent playhouse 🎪. 😃

He even begs on his knees for you to accept to buy it.

When you stopped to eat, he wants to push the food cart for you, he find it exciting to out on the trays of the cart😣

he always go back to the line to get another carton of milk

He came back 3 times, back and forth just to buy another milk🤦🏻‍♀️

Kageyama likes the yogurt that Ikea sells, he likes the strawberries and berries decorated on top of it.

He doesn't have his own plate of food, he wants to share with you✌️

Sakusa

He doesn't want to go

But reader-senpai is so stubborn so you insist

He didn't want to go so you finally gave up, leaving him in your shared apartment.

But then at the last minute, he said he wanna come.

Yoomi-bby doesn't want people to touch you or even ask for your number.

What's his is only his so no SHARING 😤

He always scolds you on stop picking up things on everything you see.

So every time you drop the item, he sprays your hands with alcohol

Coz he doesn't want his baby to be sick😪

But when the both of you reached the bathroom/toilet models, he literally switched.

He finds them interesting😃

Like how the bathroom models are beautifully designed.

He finds it funny when the inside of the toilet is covered with plastic, so no one would really poop or pee in it

He laughs so cute 😖❤️

He laughs for straight 2 minutes and you don't really care, he's just adorable.

Please he collects Ikea pencils 😭

He takes more when he saw another Ikea pencil and ruler stall.

And then take some random paper and draws on it out of boredom.

He drew you😞

It wasn't the best but it's cute how he tries hard.

Kiyoomi also find the chair sections interesting.

He likes the rocking chairs and said that he would get one

How could you say no?❤️

He payed for it easily and it would be delivered in the apartment this night.

💸RICH BOI 💸

When you are in the rugs and mats section, he likes touching the furry ones

"Look Y/N! it's really soft. . . Touch it,"

But then he told you to leave the area immediately because it smells weird👁️👄👁️

It came from those leather and those cow skin looking matts💀

When lunch rolls by, he likes to watch kids playing in the playground 😣

He eats fancy so don't be surprised if you see him use knife and fork so expertly and eat steak with some sauce.

He gets so excited when going home because he can finally set up the rocking chair 💀

Oikawa

He loves shopping!

I can sense it, he radiates the vibes, you can't change my mind.

He picks up everything he sees and put in the cart.

And you have to get those things from the cart and put it back because you don't need them💀

He whines about how he needs all of them

And you have to remind him that they would just stay in the storage room like how the other things ended up he brought last time.

But nuh-uh

🎶He sees it, he likes it, he want it, he got it🎶

🎶I want it, I got it, I want it, I got it🎶

"Y/N-chan, I'll buy it with my own money! You don't have to worry about it!"

You know what are the things he buys?

A whole chandelier, an emergency lamp that charges by spinning the ledge, a WHOLE cabinet, some kitchen utensils–he doesn't cook💀 and some more things. . .😐

He actually bought the whole Ikea 😭

But then he came up to you and ask if you can buy him those dog stuff toys.

He pouted for it.

You gave in and bought two stuff toys for you and him❤️

And then you remembered why he asked you to buy it for him when he had no problem to pay the expensive things he wanted.🙄

"So that it would be special, Y/N, look it came from you!"

He likes the candle section.

He specifically likes the scented ones.🕯️

Oikawa keeps picking them up and smelling them😭

He ended up adding to cart once again🤦

He made a delivery truck deliver all the things he bought to your house.

Ofcourse he would, he 💸rich💸

After that you both ate

And he just had to insist on you feeding him because he wanted to make the lonely teen across him jealous 😭😭😭 slskskjfgh

He likes the bread bowls

No he doesn't put soup in them

He just likes the bread.

You don't have to go back to Ikea for a whole year because you remembered Oikawa bought the whole store.

Ushijima

He just follows you everywhere, stoic and not saying anything 😐

When you stop to check on something he'll be like🕴️behind you

He also picks up some things that interests him😖

And if her finds something weird, he'll pick it up also and try to find out how to use it

But he ends up breaking it, so he quickly put it back and walk back to you😭

He holds your hand and look around as if he's a lost puppy ❤️

Waka-waka takes those paper rulers and roll them into a tight roll💀 please I do that everytime

He also collects those Ikea brochures and still takes another one even though you have a lot at home 😃

You know those yellow banners that hung from the ceiling with the prizes labeled on it??

Like kenma from part 1, he jumps and hits it with his fingertips aww

He's a huge baby🤭

Until he breaks it and made it fall on the floor💀

The both of you quickly run away before a staff scolds you both

Everytime other time, out of the blue, he would hug you, telling how much you mean to him😢

You know those fake windows in house models where it's actually just wallpapers lightened up from underneath??

He thrash talked about who taught about it because it didn't look too realistic 💀

He likes the kitchen section because the kitchen tools amazes him nd he cooks in the house,sooo¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ushijima points at the things he find interesting and talk about them to you

"hey. . .Y/N. . . That thing is so cool, it can turn into a bed from a sofa. . ."

ANDDDD

He also likes the outdoor/garden section.❤️

He has his mini garden and he plants succulents😩

So he puts soils and other plant materials he needed for planting like pots and shovels.

He buys you plastic flowers too💀

It's not real but hey! At least it came from someone you really really love😏

He buys you unnecessarily a lot of those too😃

buys you things you needed, anything you want, he'll buy for you. . .

He'll just take out his credit card💳

When lunch comes, he always take the fruit salad because he likes it.

He would also feed you his own food•//////•

Ushjima always likes the fish with that kind of sauce

He shares food

So take it or leave it 😤

Tendou

Baki Baki ni oreeeee~

I love this boi, I don't get why people see him as a monster😤

Oki oki, he is sooooo excited to go around ikea

He takes a lot of the Ikea magazines

"it's free! So why not take many?"

He literally skips around beside you and gets excited over small things

"Ooooooh, Y/N! A rechargable light bulb!"

"Y/N! Y/N! Come here! Look, it's a chandelier that opens and closes!!"

He is very curious about things so make sure you stir him away from the kitchen section because that's where most of the weirdest things are.

Somehow you'd still end up in the kitchen section

He saw this weird looking scissors and he doesn't know what are the other features for.

You told him to drop it because he might hurt himself.

But no, he just had to figure out what is is for💀

He ended up hurting himself from toying around a scissors that separates each leg so that it can become a knife.

Of course he did hurt himself🤦

He run up to you, whimpering

And you just have to scold him😐

One time he got so curious about what that heavy door was for and he opened it

The alarm started going off🚨💀

IT WAS AN EMERGENCY DOOR

You made sure you don't let Tendou out of your sight again

When you stopped for lunch, you let him control the food cart.

But he accidentally pushed an old lady infront of the line with it.

Don't worry Gran is fine👵

What's with Haikyuu characters always liking kiddie meals?!😭

Yeah yeah he likes them❤️

But then when you two settled down to finally eat

He screamed why is his plate color is green, he wants red😭

You told him to finish his food quickly or else you'll leave him there

So both of you finished quickly and Satori wants to go home as fast as possible because he said he has a concert in his shower💀💀💀

My hands hurts😐

Anyways thank you for staying till the end❤️

Every like, reblogs and follow is appreciated 😏

This is my work so please don't steal in any way, not even turning it into a tiktok😐

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

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chain-unchained · 4 years

Text

December 17

The rustic twang of country guitar played over the jukebox in the Saloon. Sundays were far from the busiest days for the establishment, but there was always a handful of regulars that would come by, and someone would always plonk a few coins into the machine. The music was never loud enough to make conversation difficult; it was just there as background ambience.

It was a familiar song to Ashe as he stepped in through the door. By this point he’d visited so many times that he knew just about every track on the old machine. And this was one that he remembered fondly; he would often listen to it with his mother. Before the illness.

“Hey, there you are!”

Emily’s smile was a mile wide as she hastened around the counter to greet him. “It’s been forever since you stopped by.”

“Emily!” The hug they shared was mutual. “Sorry, just—I’ve been so busy.”

“No need to apologize. I’m just happy to see you again.” She held him back at arm’s length to study him with a critical eye. “You doing okay now?”

“Ah—” His cheeks flushed, and he looked anywhere but at her. “Yeah. I’m better. Definitely better.”

The smile was half-forced, half-genuine, and 100% embarrassed. It felt so awkward, having so many people ask him how he was doing these last few days. The same kind of awkwardness as standing there while people sang happy birthday.

“I’m glad to hear that. Don’t start pushing yourself too hard again, okay?” She gave his shoulders a squeeze. “You’ve got people you can talk to.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good.” With another smile she let him go. “Well then, let me show you to the back. Shane’s waiting for you.”

The blush deepened. “He is? Am I late or something?”

“No no. He just got here early. Right this way.”

She led Ashe through the short swinging saloon doors to the left of the room. His heart began to flutter in his chest; it wasn’t their first date, but… this felt different to the gridball game. He didn’t know what to expect.

They made their way down the hall and to the private dining room. A ‘reserved’ sign hung from the hook in the center of the door, which sat slightly ajar. A different song was playing through the crack; it was softer, melodic.

‘Oh no—was I supposed to dress fancier?’

A nervous thought raced through Ashe’s mind as they drew near. The music sounded almost classical, and he couldn’t help but feel like maybe he should have dressed up a bit more.

“Hey, Emily?”

She stopped and turned back to him. “Yeah?”

“Um, is my outfit okay?”

“Hmm…” She observed him again. “Do a little spin for me.”

He did, the anxiety rising at the unreadable expression on her face. It wasn’t like he’d come here in his farming best— dark-washed bootcut jeans, his lavender turtleneck beneath a white sleeveless vest, his good boots—but the insecurity was there. He couldn’t help but doubt.

After a moment, Emily’s face split into another smile. “Very cute—Shane’s going to go crazy.”

“Really?” Ashe’s face lit up at the praise and prediction both. It was a relief for a worry that he knew was unfounded. “Whew… Thank you~”

“Hey, there’s that sunshine smile! I was getting worried I wouldn’t get to see it before winter ends.”

The private room was small, and quaint, styled much the same as the bar area. Paintings decorated the walls, and one of Emily’s own hand-woven rugs adorned the floor, upon which an aged oak table rested. The music was coming from a smaller radio resting atop a matching end table in the corner; candle wall sconces cast a warm and gentle glow upon the red hues of wood and fabric both.

Shane was already there, of course—and Ashe’s face turned several shades of tomato red as his eyes fell upon him. Though his back was to the door, it was clear that he’d cleaned up for tonight. His hair, which he’d been letting grow out, was freshly washed and styled; he wore a well-fitted, plain dark sweater tucked into new jeans, with a black leather belt. He turned his head in response to the door opening—he’d even gone so far as to shave.

“Hey, you made it…”

His own voice trailed off as his eyes fell on Ashe, and there was a moment of silence as they both just stared at each other, somewhat slack-jawed.

“Wow,” Emily looked between the two of them, “you really are made for each other. I’ll go and grab some menus and some drinks to get you started.”

She traipsed out, shutting the door quietly behind her. Shane cleared his throat, his face nearly as red as Ashe’s at that point.

“You, uh… you look good, chickadee.”

“Th-thanks.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Ashe shyly added, “you do too.”

Shane grinned self-consciously. “Heh, you think so? Kinda feels like my gut’s gonna bust through this sweater…”

Ashe tip-toed closer until he was completely leaning against him, and his voice trailed off. “You look amazing,” the farmer mumbled, his face hidden in the fabric of Shane’s chest. “I can’t handle it.”

That was enough to silence Shane’s self-doubt—or at least keep him from vocalizing it further. “Yoba, you’re too cute.” He took the opportunity to steal both a hug and a kiss from his boyfriend, lingering perhaps a bit longer thank he intended to upon his lips. “So… d’you wanna sit down?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

It was with only minor reluctance that Shane stepped away from him to pull one of the chairs out from the table. He gestured for Ashe to sit, and pushed the chair back into place when he did. All the while, he had to fight to keep his hands from shaking. It had been at least a decade since he’d been on a fancy dinner date like this before, let alone with someone he cared so deeply about. He wanted it to be perfect.

By the time he’d taken his own seat opposite Ashe, Emily had returned with glasses of ice water—lemon slices included—and two menus. “Here you go,” she said with another smile. “Take your time, and press the buzzer when you’re ready to order.”

“Thanks, Emily.”

She dipped back out the door again, and for a moment there was silence as they both skimmed the menu. “Order whatever you want,” Shane said, glancing up to see the conflicted look on Ashe’s face. “Don’t worry about prices. It’s my treat.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He grinned. “I can afford to splurge on my favorite dweeb every now and then.”

Ashe hid his blushing pout behind the menu. It was hard to focus on choosing, because every few seconds he couldn’t help peeking over the top to get another look at Shane.

“… What?” Shane caught him staring. “Did I nick myself when I was shaving or something?”

“N-No no—It’s just—” He hid behind the menu again, face redder than it had been before. “I-I never realized how good you look with long hair. Sorry, I’ll stop.”

Now it was Shane’s turn to become a tomato head. “Bud, you’re gonna give me an ego with all these compliments.” He looked through the menu a bit more. To be honest, he was in the mood for pizza, but he wanted to impress Ashe—

“Would you judge me if I said I wanted pizza?”

He lowered the menu to look at him again. There was a meek sort of grin on the farmer’s face, which he was quick to hide once more behind his own.

“Nevermind, I’ll—pick something else.”

“Actually, I was literally just thinking the same thing.” Shane dropped the menu onto the table. “Do you just wanna order a large and split it?”

“Oh my Yoba, yes please.”

So much for a romantic dinner. Shane’s expectations went out the door, and with them the hesitant awkwardness that hung in the air. It was like they both settled back into their skins, and once the 16-inch pie was on the table they dug in. No forks, no plates, just greasy slices in hand and a couple of paper napkins.

“Ahh, I’m in heaven~” Ashe practically melted into his chair. “Sssooo good…”

“Yeah, it’s been awhile since I had one of his pizzas.” A long strand of cheese stretched out from Shane’s mouth to the slice he’d taken a bite from. The sign of a quality cheese pie. “This cheese didn’t come from Hanako, did it?” He joked.

“I wish it did! She’s still just a baby though. I was kind of thinking I might see about getting a full-grown cow in the meantime—sometimes I worry that she’s lonely, being in that big barn all by herself at night.”

“What about Silva?”

“Oh, well… Silva kind of picks on her a bit. I had Robin build her a stable.”

Shane sighed. “Bugaboo, I’m not gonna lie—that horse scares me.”

“I’m not giving her up.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that—” even though he really thought that was the best idea, “—I just want you to be extra careful with her. Please.”

The plea made Ashe deflate a bit. He picked up a strand of cheese that had fallen and nibbled on it before answering. “I will. Don’t worry, I haven’t tried to ride her yet. And I still really believe that she wouldn’t ever actually hurt me.”

“I sure hope that’s the case.”

Shane helped himself to another slice, hesitating only briefly in contemplation—it was going to be more calories to burn in the gym later—and taking a bite when he decided it was worth it.

After a minute, Ashe spoke again. “I, uh… I saw Dr. Vance yesterday.”

“Oh, that’s why you were gone. I was wondering.” Shane licked a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to answer, but how’d it go?”

“It went… good.” The farmer began to gently rock back and forth in his chair. “A lot of talking. It was harder than I thought it would be.”

Shane could see that he was getting nervous. Wiping his hand on one of the napkins, he held it out to Ashe across the table; after a moment, Ashe took hold of it. “Yeah, it can be like that sometimes. But it’ll get better. Might not ever be easy, but better.”

“I hope so.” The warmth of Shane’s hand was comforting, and the rocking ceased after a minute. Ashe even managed to smile as he added, “I’m getting really tired of crying my eyes out already.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s part of the process.”

“Did you cry?”

“Oh yeah. More than I’m comfortable admitting, honestly.” He laughed. “So yeah, don’t feel bad about it. It’s different for everyone, and some of us just gotta cry before we can start moving on.”

“Yeah… I guess so.” Ashe shifted in his seat. “… I know I’m the one who brought it up, but… can we talk about something else?”

“Of course. Uhhh…” A stream of air blew past Shane’s lips as he fished around for a different topic. Of course now of all times he was drawing a blank.

“You still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas.”

Shit, that was the one he was hoping to avoid. “Cos I don’t want anything. I’ve already got all that I could ask for.”

“Shane,” Ashe leaned forward a bit, a very serious expression on his face, “I’m gonna get you something. It might as well be something you actually want.”

“Oh! Shit, that reminds me. Would it be okay if Jas hung out at the farm with you tomorrow?”

Ashe blinked. “Uh—of course. Why?”

“Because me and Marnie are gonna get some shopping done in Zuzu. And both Penny and Jodi are gonna be busy, and I feel bad for all the times they babysit her already. We’ll pay you for it, of course.”

“Oh, nonono you won’t.” He shook his head.

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. Use that money to get Jas an extra present.”

“Bud, believe me, she’s gonna have more presents than she knows what to do with.” Shane wiped his hands on his napkin again and took a sip of lemon water. “What about you? You haven’t told me what you want.”

Ashe went quiet. The truth was, what he wanted more than anything was something that he knew he could never get back. But… well, there was one other thing…

“I just don’t want to be alone. That… That’s all…”

This time Shane gently took hold of both hands. “Who says you will be? The Feast lasts all day, and you can hang out at the ranch with us after. Okay? Don’t even worry about that.”

“I-I’ll try.” Ashe drew a shuddering breath. The emotions had utterly blindsided him, but at least he’d managed to keep from crying… again. But he was going to end up with whiplash with how all over the place his emotions were.

“You know, there’s gonna be a big countdown in Zuzu on New Years’ Eve. Would you feel up to going?”

“… Y-Yeah.” He managed a small smile. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

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abreathofthewild · 4 years

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And They Were Roommates, Chapter 1/?

Summary: After the events of Endgame, the Avengers try to regain a semblance of normalcy. Steve Rogers decides to move to a small town, get a regular job and a regular room mate...

Word Count: 1832

Warnings: mentions of death. some language. some hanky panky (MILD exhibitionism?!??!). Like neck kissing, hip straddling. But not between Steve and reader... yet. Eventual warnings for possible PTSD and traumatic flashbacks. Smut. Oh boy I can’t believe I just wrote that this is going to be a wonderful journal.

Notes: Holy cow I’m actually posting this. This is my first time posting a fic so please be kind? I’m also open to constructive criticism though so yeah. How I’m posting a Steve Rogers fic before a Thor fic is beyond me but I guess ya gotta follow the spark? This literally is based off a dream so it should be interesting?! If I can actually finish it?! I have not seen Endgame (I’m not mentally prepared) but I have a general idea of how it goes and I’m writing things differently. For reasons. I hope you all enjoy! EDIT: I’m so mad at Tumblr I tried to add a tag through mobile and it DELETED THE WHOLE DANG POST FORMATTING AND ALL so here it is again.

Links: Chapter 2

You groaned as you rolled over and blearily felt around for your phone on the nightstand; the display lit up so bright it made your eyes squint in pain. As they finally adjusted to the screen and you saw the numbers 2:43, you felt a familiar anger boil up inside you. That anger spiked when you heard a few thumps and more giggling from the living room. This was the third time this week Steve had brought some random drunk girl home from the bar where he worked. He was a popular guy because he was great at what he did, good-looking too you had to admit. And he was Captain America. He knew he had these qualities though and he flaunted them. For most people, his cockiness was a turn on; for you, it was the exact opposite and made most of the time rooming with him a miserable thing. You rolled over and squeezed your eyes shut, desperately willing sleep to come. Your mind trailed off to when you first met Steve. After the defeat of Thanos and the death of so many, Tony in particular, the Avengers had dispersed; they remained in touch but they all had decided to lead normal lives. As normal as possible anyway.

Steve Rogers? Captain America? He decided to get a regular job at a regular bar in some regular town and move into some regular house. You knew he hurt. Who didn’t? Everyone had lost someone. You… You had lost your sister. She was the one who roomed with you before Steve. Some of her pictures were still on the mantle along with one of the Avengers together. You always smiled when you saw those pictures. The one with your sister was her in the snow, her skin flushed a bright red from the cold, her nose and eyes scrunched up as she laughed. That memory was so sweet, still fresh as if you had taken the picture yesterday. She had tripped and fallen face first in the snow. It was deep so it hadn’t hurt her. Instead she had flooded the air with her laughter. The two of you had ended up gasping for breath from hysterics. The one of the Avengers was similar although the focus of their laughter seemed to be Tony Stark’s frown. It wasn’t really a frown though, more as if he was trying to keep a smile off his face. Steve had never told you the story (he never really told you much about that time) but you guessed they were ribbing him for something. The love for each other was evident though. Steve seemed to be the most enthusiastic; his head was thrown back, eyes closed. He was holding his stomach and his golden hair was falling loosely in a wave. It made you smile every time you looked at those.

“Steeeevveee…” A whine came from the living room. Your efforts to go back to sleep were a no-go. All those girls he brought home were so… Not Steve. It made your blood run hot.

“That’s it,” you whispered angrily to no one in particular as you leapt from your bed and stalked down the hall. The was a furry rug running down the length of the floor; you weren’t exactly trying to move quietly. Still, you doubted Steve wouldn’t hear you, either way. At the last minute, something stopped you from rounding the corner. Really, what right did you have to tell him not to bring girls home? This was half his house. You had to be at work in three hours now though, a thought that made you somewhat desperate. You took a deep breath and slowly padded out into the living area.

There was Steve, sitting on the couch (the couch you sat on too sometimes for Christ’s sake). The girl was straddling his lap, her blonde curls loose around her shoulders. Her mini skirt was hiked up to her hips. His arms were at her back and he was kissing her neck; her hands were in his hair and she let out a small moan. You stood frozen in place.

They were completely absorbed in each other, completely oblivious to you standing there gawking. It was an impressive sight to see Steve in action if you were being completely honest with yourself. Then he opened his eyes. You’d looked him in the face before, knew he had pretty blues but this… This was different. They were stunning, intense. And focused on you as the girl he was holding let her head fall back on a sigh. He didn’t stop, just watched you watching him. It made the muscles in your stomach clench. What the hell? You stood straight, shook your head in an attempt to make the haziness leave your brain and cleared your throat. She jumped in his arms but didn’t make any move to get off his lap. She did a half turn to see who was there; you crossed your arms and tapped your foot.

“Look, I don’t wanna be rude and I don’t know if Steve told you but he doesn’t live alone. And I gotta get up for work in the morning. I mean, can you guys just be a little quieter, Steve?” You directed your gaze to him. He watched you lazily but… Your cheeks flushed hot when he kept watching you. Shit… “That’s all I need…” You trailed off awkwardly, frustrated with yourself. He finally looked away and back at her face.

“Gosh, doll, looks like our fun’s over. Maybe some other time?” He smirked, squeezing her hips. He continued smirking as she stared at him in disbelief.

“Look,” she finally said, mirroring your statement with sarcasm, “I don’t wanna be rude but I don’t know who this bitch thinks she is—” Your eyes widened when Steve didn’t even let her finish her sentence as he stood up abruptly, letting her fall indignantly to the cushion next to him.

“That bitch,” he said quietly, “pays half the rent. She’s my roommate. And I won’t have anyone disrespecting her.” Now it was her turn to widen her eyes; her mouth gaped open. Steve stood, imposing, one hand in the pocket of his blue jeans, the other arm extended to the door. The girl stood quickly and grabbed her bag from the coffee table. The door slammed as she left. You crossed your arms and tried to look everywhere but at Steve who still faced away from you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I just… I have to be there at, like, six—”

“It’s fine.” His shoulders and back flexed; you gulped when he turned around and studied your face. “She shouldn’t have said that.” God those blue eyes. He took a step forward and another when you didn’t back away. Finally, he grinned. “I think you made her jealous. I mean, who wouldn’t be jealous of you? You get to see America’s ass in person every day.” You rolled your eyes. Steve having access to the internet was all at once the worst and best thing. He was fascinated by memes and when it came to memes of himself… well, he could make you sit for hours showing you memes. “Play hooky with me tomorrow, let me make up for how she treated you.” You crossed your arms again and pursed your lips, shook your head.

“No-can-do, Steve. I’m one of the openers. I wouldn’t do that on such short notice.”

“I figured as much. I’ve never seen you call out. I mean, except that one time you were puking your guts out.” Steve smirked, you shuddered.

“Ugh, that was awful. I was so sick! Thank god you didn’t bring anyone here those nights.” You returned his smirk as Steve gave you an expression of mock surprise, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“I don’t bring that many girls home, okay? Besides, I have to drown out the bad memories somewhere.” There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.

“Steve—"

“Plus, you were so miserable. I didn’t want to bother you. I tried to stay scarce those days.” He’d crossed his arms again, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes on his face instead of how good he looked in that worn white t-shirt of his. His words jarred a memory in you though from the last time you remembered being that sick.

You were fifteen. Your mom had to work the night shift at the hospital. She wasn’t particularly caring anyway. Y/Sister’s name was the one who found you in the bathroom in the middle of the night, laying on the cold tile floor holding your stomach. She had rubbed your back and held your hair back from your face and made sure you drank little bits of water to wash away the gross aftertaste.

“Ssshh,” she had whispered. “It’s all right, you’re okay.” She had helped you back to bed, tucked you in with a bucket on the floor. She had stayed there all night, waiting it out with you. It was the best feeling just knowing someone was there. She was always there for you, even when no one else was…

Tears sprang unbidden to your eyes and you bit your lip. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“I, uh, I gotta go to bed, okay? Um, sorry about tonight. Didn’t mean for it to go that way,” you said again. That quick he closed the space between you; he was so close you could smell the subtle aroma of his cologne, see the way his eyes searched yours. He reached up and brushed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even noticed falling.

“Please don’t apologize. Can I take you out after you get off?” You looked up at him (you definitely had to look up) and studied his face. He looked so tired. His eyes looked sad. How had you never noticed before? Maybe it was time you paid attention. A small nod.

“Yeah,” you whispered, even though you didn’t even know why you had to whisper. “I get off at 1. Should I meet you?” Steve smiled then. Golden boy. Apollo. The sun.

“Nah, I got this. I’ll pick you up.” Was he always a gentleman like this? A quick hitch of your breath as he leaned forward and spoke close to your ear “Good night, Y/N.” He stood up and slowly brushed passed you heading to the room at the other side of the hall where he saluted you with a grin as he went in and closed his door. He knew. He knew the effect he suddenly was having on you and he was loving it. If you were being honest, you didn’t mind that you were finally acknowledging it.

And now, somehow, you were going to hang out with Steve Rogers tomorrow. You slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your disbelieving giggle. It felt good.

#inthorantine writes #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers trope #txt #inthorantine #and they were roommates

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nenuials · 4 years

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A day in the life of Lothrin

How does a day in the life of Lothrin, Lady of Twilight, Sage of Annúminas and aid to the Dúnedain look like? More uneventful that one would expect. In order to better paint a picture of her daily schedule, I shall be using LOTRO canon, thus using the geography and settlements presented therein. Secondly, this schedule is applicable between the years of TA 2500 and TA 3019.

Lothrin’s usual residence and where she might be found most of the time is the keep of Tinnudir, in the heart of Evendim. Though depending on the season, she may move to the encampment at High King’s Crossing, the farms in Barandalf or the camp in the heart of Annúminas. More often than not, when not in Evendim, Lothrin can be found in Sarn Ford, Esteldin, Falathlorn or Imladris.

Mornings

If residing in Tinnudir, Lothrin is usually the first to stir awake, way before dawn. Elves sleep but a couple hours a night, usually about two to four, and can go entire days without rest. Early in the morning, she will rise and make a start on the chores of the day. Tinnudir, a keep of such size and the surrounding land are always in need of hands to tend to them.

She will quickly leave the keep and make her way to the animal pens. While LOTRO doesn’t show this detail to us, I strongly believe there were animals raised on the island. She will release the chickens and ducks from their coops, collect the eggs, feed the cows, goats, sheep, horses, and pigs and if time allows milk the cows and goats, then clean their spaces. If she is not present or otherwise occupied, someone else will take care of these duties.

With a big chunk of the early morning gone, she will either help in the kitchens to prepare the meals of the day, or simply eat and be on her way. Depending on the season and food situation, in the morning or noon she may either go alone or take some company to cross the lake and hunt in the hills of Evendim. Evendim is home to a big population of bears, so bear meat is plenty available to make stew or rugs from.

Afternoons

With the time-sensitive chores out of the way and still plenty of daytime left, when in Tinnudir and not otherwise occupied with administrative duties, Lothrin’s hands would ever be busy with spinning thread or sewing clothing, as tailoring is one of her hobbies. In medieval societies aside from food, the two most important resources people needed were thread for cloth-making and wax for candle-making. The process involved in cloth-making is long and laborious, so everyone was urged to give a hand: from picking the plants, to dying the thread, to spinning it, to sewing the cloth itself and more. Making even one piece of a garment may take anywhere up to three hundred hours, depending on the complexity of the piece.

If the weather is otherwise not foul, Lothrin will join the dúnedain in the small gardens surrounding Tinnudir and tend to the vegetable plantations. What gardening needs to be done wholly depends on whether it is planting or harvesting season, but she loves the harvest best and all the work that comes with the season. One may always find her carrying entire baskets of vegetables, and helping with the making of jams, sauces, pickled vegetables and more. If strong arms are needed, she will help with woodworking and the upkeep of the various buildings, mainly repairing rooftops, as the dúnedain do not possess her elven agility and ease of movement. On more than one occasion messengers would find her high atop a roof, hammering nails.

Evenings

One regular activity she pursues in the evenings is patrolling the roads up to the King’s Crossroad, for any signs of trouble. If all the other sentries are away on errands, she will gladly take their posts and stand guard the whole night. If present in Tinnudir, she will help with serving dinner to the whole encampment of roughly fifty people, then either tell a story or leave for her study and pursue various scholarly duties in candlelight. As she is the sage of Evendim, every couple of years she rewrites her various notes on the life of the northern dúnedain. She has kept meticulous notes that date back to the inception of Arnor, detailing genealogies, customs, lineages and more. Her various manuscripts have been a treasure to the modern-day dúnedain, mainly with helping them remember their customs and their lineages.

Tinnudir is a keep with various floors. The ground floor is home to a small library, a study, a storage room, the kitchens, and some sleeping quarters placed around the inner pool. The upper floors are accessible through an inner stairway and are home to more sleeping-quarters and storage rooms. On the third floor rests the Study of Lothrin, a room filled to the brim with treasures of ages long past, scrolls and books, weapons, armour and in the middle of it all sits a desk, where Lothrin does her scholarly work. The room though cramped, is luminous.

If the evenings are calm and quiet, she will delight in teaching the dúnedain children their history, with as much detail as she can muster. She will speak of the marble columns of the throne-room of Elendil, of the beautiful gardens at the heart of Annúminas, of the various gatherings the nobles of Evendim used to have, of all the kind and brave working-people who fought so fiercely for their kingdom.

Deviations

The schedule presented above may suffer alterations depending on a myriad of factors. If orcs have been spotted in the area, Lothrin will join patrols and guard the borders. If the harvests have been lacking, she will hunt more and gather whatever plants and roots available for eating. If the coffers are emptying, she will join in the making of various products to try and trade them in Bree or the Shire. If the day allows and no pressing matters are ahead of her, she will often train herself, then train some of the younger dúnedain in close, then ranged combat. She is a strict but fair teacher.

Seasonal Work

If the summer weather is especially kind, she would often be found at the farms in Barandalf, in south Evendim. The farms are the main source of food for the dúnedain of Evendim, so tending to them is of utmost importance. The farms, though small, are close to hobbit lands, so trade often occurs. If the farms are otherwise staffed, and the sentries are away on various errands, she will stand guard at the bridge of High King’s Crossing, inquiring the business of any travellers that wish to pass into the heart of Evendim. If the day is particularly slow, she may talk to the others and try and tend to the bridge, although she is no stoneworker or architect.

Although, she has long pled to the dúnedain that maintaining Annúminas is of utmost importance, the dúnedian are simply too few and too far spread to tend to a city the size of Annúminas. If present within the white-city, when not reminiscing about the past, Lothrin will help the sentries stationed there to maintain a road throughout the city, free of rubble. If otherwise unoccupied, she will scout the various half-flooded buildings for any objects of importance. If at Sarn Ford, she will act as a sentry and report to the on-field commander. Though her visits to Esteldin are rare, she will more often than not come for administrative business or high-councils, thus partake less in the day-by-day chores.

One of the big advantages elves possess is that they live for thousands of years. The lifespan of Lothrin, as of the War of the Ring is equal to that of fifty to a hundred human lives. In modern terms, in takes one human one lifetime to become an absolute expert in whatever domain they choose, can you imagine what we could do with fifty lifetimes? Lothrin, as an elf, had millennia of time to hone her skills, and thus can lend a hand to whatever needs doing.

She will do anything that needs doing from more household oriented activities like sewing, cooking, baking, soap-making, wine and beer-making, house repairs, cloth beating/washing, childcare, makeshift barbering, to more scholarly pursuits like candle making, writing, chronicling, teaching, book-binding, sending messages, to more administrative pursuits like tax-keeping, act as a clerk, act as a judge, act as a baliff, hold council, to more agricultural pursuits like bee-keeping, cattle-raising, farm-management, hunting, animal-skinning, bird-plucking, to more military pursuits like commanding guerrilla troops, maintaining armour and military strategy. Though it is worth mentioning that just because she can do something, it does not mean she can do it as well as someone whose job is only that specific thing like a full-time farmer or woodworker.

I hope you enjoyed reading this and that this small essay shed some light on my character.

#tolkien oc #of lothrin #i really hope people enjoy reading this!#i really think it fleshes her out a little and sheds light on her character

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ayearinfaith · 5 years

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𝗔 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝗙𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗵, 𝗗𝗮𝘆 𝟭𝟳: 𝗖𝘂́ 𝗖𝗵𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗻 "The first warp-spasm seized Cú Chulainn, and made him into a monstrous thing, hideous and shapeless, unheard of. His shanks and his joints, every knuckle and angle and organ from head to foot, shook like a tree in the flood or a reed in the stream. His body made a furious twist inside his skin, so that his feet and shins switched to the rear and his heels and calves switched to the front ... he sucked one eye so deep into his head that a wild crane couldn't probe it onto his cheek out of the depths of his skull; the other eye fell out along his cheek. His mouth weirdly distorted: his cheek peeled back from his jaws until the gullet appeared, his lungs and his liver flapped in his mouth and throat, his lower jaw struck the upper a lion-killing blow, and fiery flakes large as a ram's fleece reached his mouth from his throat" -𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘢́𝘪𝘯, translated by Thomas Kinsella, 1969 (original text 12th century) Cú Chulainn (English pronunciation /ku hʌlɪn/, “coo huh-lin”) is one of the most significant figures in Irish mythology, a demi-god, and defender of the Kingdom of Ulster. He is known for his fearsome barbed spear, the Gáe Bulg, and his terrifying transformation, the Ríastrad. The legends of Cú Chulainn, better known as the Ulster Cycle, are preserved in 12th century CE manuscripts, but can be attested in partial form back to the 7th century. They are set in a very real and recognizable Irish landscape at the end of the 1st century BCE. 𝗦𝗲́𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗮 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 Cú Chulainn was not born “Cú Chulainn”. There are several versions of his divine birth, some involving series of impregnations, abortions, and child abductions, but in general the sister of the King of Ulster, Deichtine, is visited by the Irish king of the gods, Lugh (pronounced /lu/, “loo”) who informs her that she shall have a son and she shall name it Sétanta. Upon birth the child is accepted, relatively free of controversy, and is raised communally by Ulster nobility, each imparting their own area of expertise upon him. The name Cú Chulainn is bestowed upon Sétanta after a mix-up involving a guard dog. The King of Ulster is having dinner with the smith Culann. Though Sétanta was invited to this dinner, he was late and Culann forgot and so released his vicious guard dog for the night. When it attacks Sétanta, the boy is given no choice but to kill it. In recompense he promises Culann a new dog, and while he waits Sétanta himself will serve. For this he was dubbed Cú Chulainn, literally the “Hound of Culann”. For this epithet and his role in the defense of Ulster he is sometimes also called the Hound of Ulster. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 The rather grisly quote at the start of this entry describes one of the more striking of Cú Chulainn’s superhuman powers, the Ríastrad. The word “Ríastrad” was translated by Thomas Kinsella, who made one of the most definitive versions of the legend, as “Warp Spasm”. A more direct translation would be more like “distortion” or “contortion”. If you are familiar with the modern comic book hero the Hulk then the nature of the Ríastrad will be familiar; in moments of intense emotion, anger particularly, Cú Chulainn transforms into a horrifying monster of strained muscle and cannot recognize friend from foe until he calms down and returns to normal. The act of calming him can be difficult, and in a noteworthy instance the men of Ulster do this by having their wives bare their chests, causing Cú Chulainn, who can apparently still feel bashful even in the throes of the Ríastrad, to avert his eyes, giving the men the chance they need to wrestle him into a barrel of cold water. It ends up taking three barrels of water as the first two explode and boil from his heat before he calms down. 𝗔 𝗕𝗮𝗿𝗯𝗲𝗱 𝗦𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗕𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 At the age of 7 Cú Chulainn overhears the King’s Druid making a prophecy that whoever picks up arms this day would have everlasting fame, prompting Cú Chulainn to burst in and quickly claim a weapon (which takes time as most of them cannot stand his superhuman strength). Unfortunately the Druid wasn’t finished, and while Cú Chulainn is destined for greatness, he is also destined for a short life. With a childhood message like this, it’s not surprising that a teenage Cú Chulainn is prone to brash and impulsive behavior, including agreeing to be sent away on a perilous training mission in an attempt to win the hand of the woman he loves. This mission is to go to Scotland to train with the warrior woman and possible goddess Scáthach (English /skaha/, “ska-hah”) who lives on the Isle of Skye in a castle called the Fortress of Shadows. Cú Chulainn, of course, is more than up to the challenge, and receives an exceptional training in warfare including the use of the Gáe Bulg. The Gáe Bulg is a barbed spear, crafted from the bones of a sea monster, that must be thrown with the foot and causes anything it hits to explode with barbs from within. The gruesomeness of this is not overlooked, as Cú Chulainn requires an aid to go after it and painstakingly cut it loose from the mangled flesh of its victim. Cú Chulainn is not alone in his training, working alongside his fellow soldier Ferdiad. The two become close friends, blood-brothers, and possibly lovers, which makes this next segment all the more tragic. 𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰 The climax of the Ulster Cycle is an event known as the Cattle Raid of Cooley. Though its moniker may make it seem like a simple attempt to snatch livestock, it is a large-scale epic battle, the Irish equivalent of the Trojan War. In brief, the armies of Connacht under Queen Medb have come to wage war against Ulster over a particularly valuable, and possibly magical, cow. On the eve of battle all the men of Ulster fall ill due to a curse (there is a lot of content in the Ulster Cycle), but Cú Chulainn can fight, having not yet come of age and thus not a man to be targeted by the curse. Cú Chulainn invokes the right of single combat and proceeds to hold off the entire army one man at a time for several months. During this he also has an encounter with the goddess Morrigan (like I said, a lot of content). Eventually though even Cú Chulainn gets injured and must recuperate. Aided by his father Lugh, he is able to recover quickly but not quick enough to prevent Ulster from sending out the only able-bodied soldiers they have (as the men’s curse lasts nine months); the boy-troop, a squad of youths, many Cú Chulainn’s age, training to be soldiers. When Cú Chulainn returns to the battlefield he sees the boys demise and enters his most fearsome Ríastrad, slaying hundreds. The single combat gambit continues, involving many recurring figures from Cú Chulainn’s life, culminating in Ferdiad. Cú Chulainn and Ferdiad engage in brutal and tragic combat that lasts for three days, until Cú Chulainn has no choice but to use the Gáe Bulg against his closest companion. 𝗗𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗟𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗰𝘆 In some versions of the tale Cú Chulainn dies with Ferdiad, either from grief or his wounds or both. The iconic version, however, has him go on afterwards. After the fight with Ferdiad the nine months of the curse are up and the battle ensues in the usual manner. Through some magic and trickery Queen Medg sets up the warrior Lugaid with the chance to kill the demi-god. With three spears he fells Cú Chulainn’s horse, his charioteer, and impales Cú Chulainn himself. Cú Chulainn chains himself to a rock in order to die on his feet and faces the army still. No one is willing to go near him until a raven lands on him, signaling death. However, when Lugaid comes to claim Cú Chulainn’s head, the body flashes with light and Cú Chulainn’s hand lets go of the sword it held, which cuts off Lugaid’s hand. This is the ultimate end of Cú Chulainn. The image of Cú Chulainn chained to the rock is prominent especially amongst Irish nationalists and is the second most common Cú Chulainn imagery after him carrying the dead body of Ferdiad. Because the tales are set in the real world, many places across Ireland are identified with the legend. The town Dundalk is where Cú Chulainn was born, and the town motto is still “Mé do rug Cú Chulainn cróga”, “I gave birth to brave Cú Chulainn”. A standing stone in County Louth, named Clochafarmore, is a national monument as it is considered the very same one to qhich Cú Chulainn tied himself. Image Credit: 𝘊𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘯 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘍𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘥 𝘈𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳, Ernest Wallcousins, 1905

#A Year in Faith #Cu Chulainn #AYIF #Religion #Mythology #day 17

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