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pinnithin-writes · 4 years ago

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Hardly An Apology

Written after 417 aired. 2093 words.

There was still blood on Pleck’s face.

This wasn’t necessarily a problem exclusive to him. They were all a little bloodied, a little shell-shocked, a little worn out. The entire crew had been put through the ringer, atoms arranging and rearranging in rapid succession as the Dame took them on a ride through time. On her last day alive, too. That was nice of her.

Lately, Pleck had thought a lot about what he was going to do on his last day alive. Y’know, after he’d learned about the whole “throw yourself into the Allwheat” thing. He’d tried to stay optimistic about it - he wasn’t exactly a master problem solver, but he hadn’t resigned himself to oblivion just yet, poking at the dilemma from different angles as he tried to find another way out.

Late at night, with the eldritch thing whispering to him, he had to admit his fate was hard to ignore.

He stood at the bathroom sink, mechanically rinsing the blood from his mouth and nose, avoiding his own reflection. He knew he needed a shave. He knew he needed to comb his hair. The chores of self-maintenance piled up as the days bled together in a meaningless smear while Seesu’s campaign spun its wheels. At least they’d finally gained some traction today.

No thanks to him. Sometimes, Pleck wasn’t even sure why he came on the missions for all the good he did them. He lacked Dar’s confidence. C-53’s intellect. Even AJ, headstrong and fearless, pushed them toward their goal with his actions. What did Pleck do? Well, lately, he just sort of hung around.

A favor for Dar, really. They had asked him to be there, to be him, so Dar could effectively be Dar . And because Dar had asked, Pleck had done it. He owed Dar a hundred favors for how many times they’d saved his sorry skin.

He cut the water off. Dried his face with a towel and let out the ghost of a laugh - a short, humorless exhale through his nose. It sounded louder than it had any right to be in the silence of the bathroom, with only the buzzing fluorescent light overhead to keep him company.

Pleck had been promoted today. Second Lieutenant. Or, Lieutenenant, he guessed. A rank and a job, given out of what, sympathy? Kindness? It didn’t matter, really. Turns out he’d repaid that kindness with a blaster shot to the brain.

Coming back to Bargie after all of that was a nauseating experience. He grimaced at the memory as he hung the towel up to dry. They all had a bad habit of putting up humorous walls around themselves when they were uncomfortable, grasping at distractions, latching onto funny details like they were lifelines in a stormy sea. Making jokes was something they knew how to do, something they were good at, something grounding. It anchored them, but anchors were oh so heavy.

Yeah, keep it tight! Great slogan! Great pants! Great job! Good one, guys!

They still watched someone die right in front of them. And then watched another someone pass on moments later. A one-two punch to the gut. Nothing a couple good jokes couldn’t fix, right?

A brief moment passed where Pleck thought he was going to lose the contents of his stomach, slapping a hand against the bathroom wall to brace himself as the vertigo twisted his gut. He saw it on the backs of his eyelids when he blinked. The zing of blaster fire, smashing in a starburst against Dar’s body. They were dead before they hit the ground.

His fault. Just like everything else.

He pulled in a shaky breath, managing to fight down the nausea. Rodd, he’d been mid-apology when it happened, too, as part of owning up to his long and exhaustive list of mistakes. It didn’t matter that he’d pulled the trigger years ago, when he was someone else entirely. It was still something he needed to make amends for. “Sorry I shot you,” he’d meant to tell Dar. “It was wrong and I feel terrible.”

Now what was he going to say? Sorry I killed you and left your body in the mud? Sorry you had to watch yourself die and then clean up my mess?

Guilt crawled into Pleck’s throat and settled there. He tugged his robe tighter around his torso, a self-soothing habit he’d developed over the past few months, and exited the bathroom. Instead of wandering down the hall to his closet, his feet carried him in the other direction to the adjacent room. He heaved open the door and flicked on the light, greeted by the gentle hum of the air unit and a distinct rise in humidity as he stepped inside.

The memory of the thick air on Flerp smacked him in the mouth and he had to take a second to lean back against the door. Calm down, calm down, he told his racing heart. You’re in the hydroponics room. Aboard the Bargarean Jade. You’re not on a distant planet in a downpour watching your friend die. He rubbed the heel of his hand into his good eye and pulled in a steadying breath.

It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re all okay.

That was it, right? Why he felt so wrong about it all. Like he didn’t have permission to grieve. There was nobody to grieve - Dar was with them on the ship now, and Dar was with them on the ship in the past, and everything had turned out alright. It was fine, they had a laugh, and they went about their business.

Pleck still felt shitty, though. He tried to swallow past the guilt in his throat.

He pushed off from the door and padded to the first rack of grow trays. He’d been coming in here a lot lately, having nothing to do around the ship. The warmth of the air and the moisture it held made him think of warm summer rains back on his home planet. Pleck remembered walking barefoot out in the grass fields as a kid, feeling the soft give of the soil under his toes as he watched the irrigation structure crawl a lazy track across the farm.

This room wasn’t exactly like that, but he did often go without shoes in here. More for nostalgic purposes than anything. The smooth metal flooring still felt nice on the soles of his feet, warm from the blaze of the grow lights. The system in here was automated, racks of machinery operating the whole process without any assistance needed from a sentient. There was no possible way Pleck could have jucked this one up.

Just like he’d-

He’d-

Pleck shook his head to clear it, focusing on the hum of the fan and the gentle sway of the plants in front of him. It made him feel a little homesick, actually, following the little seedlings to maturation. These were mostly leafy greens - butter lettuce, romaine, some spinach, a few varieties of cabbage - kept in the dark as they germinated for a few days within a square plug of peat moss and polymer. Watching the mechanical arms rotate the baby sprouts from the darkness to the light was hypnotic, and Pleck often found himself passing hours in here without realizing it.

It made him feel useful, even if he wasn’t really doing anything, making a slow circuit of the room and checking on the plants. Pinching off dead leaves where they appeared, refilling the nitrogen caddy, checking the roots for rot, harvesting and bagging the vegetables for the fridge later. Mindless, repetitive motions that slowed his pulse and passed the time.

He needed to be here right now.

Pleck tended the greens, grounding himself in a tactile comfort as he tentatively turned over the day’s events in his head. He skirted around the time stuff - it hurt just thinking about it and he preferred his feet planted firmly in the present - instead uttering a small prayer for the passing of Adelaide Wiggles. The last of her species. The Memorex had died with her, slumped to the cobalt floor of a crumbling mansion. Dignified, somehow, despite the biscuits clattering across the floor as she fell.

She’d looked her end in the eye and greeted it jauntily. Pleck wished he had that kind of resolve.

Watching the Dame’s life gently snuffed out like candlelight, while quite sad, was much easier to focus on than the other thing that gnawed at him. The thing he had done. It lodged in his neck like an extra set of teeth. He traced a fingertip over the gentle arc of a lettuce leaf, wondering if that had been the one to pull the trigger.

Pleck didn’t make a habit of firing guns, not past the old peashooter his father used to let him borrow as a kid. Sometimes they’d go out after X-Marse to the ditch behind the farmhouse and shoot bottles off the broken fridge that had lain there rusting for years. A rare treat. A Rangus vacation. Pleck smiled softly to himself at the memory as he plucked off a sick leaf and discarded it.

A blaster was different, though. It held all the kick and the power needed to kill a sentient, and in a blind panic, Pleck had done exactly that. It had happened so long ago he didn’t even really remember what it felt like, but he did just watch it happen, the stock hammering into his ribcage because he was holding it wrong. He at least remembered the purple bruise that had bloomed there afterward. Taken two weeks to heal.

How selfish he’d been. How utterly ignorant. The fact that his cowardice had gotten Dar killed snagged in his brain like a fishhook.

He stopped in his tracks in front of a healthy grow tray, pressing a trembling hand to his mouth.

He’d really done that, hadn’t he?

Killed Dar.

His captain, his friend, unshakeable in their confidence. That powerful solar flare of a being, all loud words and bold decisions and unstoppable will. Barreling through life like a freight train. And they cared about Pleck even when Pleck didn’t care about Pleck. One infinitesimal moment and they were dead.

Second Lieutenenant. Please. If he had a badge he’d turn it in.

The sob that escaped his chest was more of a thin sigh, rolling over him like one of those summer Rangus storms. His shoulders curled up and he pressed his hand harder against his mouth, as if he could hold the emotion in. He was so sick of having breakdowns in here. It was his cry spot of choice, the ventilation fan just loud enough to keep Bargie from overhearing, and he’d lost track of how many times the Allwheat’s record scratch of a voice had knocked Pleck’s feet out from under him.

He sucked in a shuddering breath through his nose, blinking away the burning in his eye. Dar wouldn’t want him crying over this. He had no right to be crying over this. He wasn’t the one who watched themself die today. Dar alone held that privilege - they were the only one who’d actually done anything about it, stepping up and taking charge, as was their nature, while Pleck stood there uselessly, as was his.

First Beano, now this. Pleck had to start keeping a tally of the friends he’d killed. Another joke for the crew to anchor themselves with. Who was next? C-53? AJ? Watch out, guys. Pleck’s coming for you.

He stood there, trembling in the misty room while the guilt soaked him to the bone, knowing he could never make this right. Dar had already done that for him.

Minutes passed, and the tension eventually ebbed from his shoulders. His breathing evened out. The greens in front of him bobbed passively on their trays of water, up-down-up-down, gentle like his heart. Letting out a long, slow exhale, he leaned his head against the cool aluminum of the hydroponics structure. He was grateful for this room full of life after the death he’d witnessed today.

Maybe one day they could talk this over. Maybe he’d find the impossible words needed for this insurmountable apology. And they could laugh about it, for real, full and genuine and from the heart. For now, though, he needed to hide himself away in this sanctuary, entombed ever so softly by the humid air and the swaying leaves. He couldn’t face them just yet.

“I’m so sorry, Dar,” he whispered to the empty room.

I’m so sorry.

#ink #fanfiction #part of my endeavor to relocate all my ao3 work #can you tell this episode fucked me up #once again apologies to everyone tracking the mtz tag #mission to zyxx

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secondhand-trash · 5 years ago

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Harvest Moon: Plus Ultra!- A New Beginning

A/N: finally starting this series for real and I’m so pumped!!

Description: When you found yourself barely able to breathe amidst the mundane routine that you were stuck in, a letter from your grandparent’s semed to be the answer to your call for change. As you left everything you knew behind, it was time for a new beginning in a faraway town.

Word count: 2169

Tag list (dm to be added to the general tag list or to be tagged in a certain character’s arc):

@redbeanteax @mrsreina @blu-that-one-nerd @lady-bakuhoe @sparkncharge @todobunhon

(back to the home screen of Harvest Moon: Plus Ultra!)

Dear (y/n):

Hello, we hope that you are doing well!

It has been a while since you last visited the ranch and many things had happened. Don’t worry, the large fields at the front of the house that you used to love running through is still here and Henry the chicken is still well and alive. All the animals are doing great in face and the crops are growing as nicely as ever.

Everything is going fine but we are growing old and we feel like it is harder and harder for us to carry on with the chores of running the farm as each day goes by. A month after we write this letter to you, we would be retired from all the work and set off on a trip across the world to all the places we have wanted to visit but never had the time to.

It was a tough decision but after thinking of the many possibilities together, we decided that this is for the best. The only thing left for us to handle is the future of the ranch. We thought about selling it but after spending so much effort and such a long time on these grounds, it pains us to think that this place that is so tied in to many of our wonderful memories would be gone.

While being on the phone with your mom, she told us that you were starting to feel tried of your life in the city and the stress is starting to weight on you. Although we get that this is a huge decision, but how would you feel about taking over the ranch after we retire? You used to like being around the farm so much and even though running it on your own might be tough work, we feel like the farm would be safe in your hands. We know that this is a lot to ask of you, but we support whatever decision you make and we hope to hear from you soon.

Take care of yourself, a healthy body is the greatest asset you will ever have. Don’t forget to go to bed early and drink enough water!

Love,

Grandma and grandpa

Folding the letter in half along the neat edges that you had opened and folded back together for countless times, you put it back into your bag and sighed. You had been on the bus for what felt like an entire lifetime but you were still nowhere near your destination. There was nothing to see when you looked out of the window, just endless trees and greenery that didn’t seem to have a stop to it. The car went smoothly ahead on the road, with occasional bumps and turns as you got further and further away from the city.

The city. It had yet to settle in your mind completely that you were actually leaving that place. Not a vacation, not a trip that you had to go back from. You were leaving, and there was no turning back. You could still see the concrete walls and the busy streets at the start of the ride, but the plain view of nothing but green from where you were now was a huge contrast for what you were still living amongst merely hours ago.

The city was bustling and filled with adventures around every corner but in all honesty, you were tired of it. Your apartment was a box and the cubicle you spent most of your time in was no better. Always going from one place to another, with no purpose but to make ends meet. You wouldn’t not die without your job but you did not want it either. You were not alive but you simply weren’t dead either. It was boring, and the last bit of passion inside of you kept screaming at you to break out of the cycle that you were trapped in but you simply did not know how.

That was when the letter came and it was like seeing a ray of light shining through the windows of your 80 sqm apartment. Your initial reaction when you held the envelope in your hand was to just stand there in shock. You could not believe that your grandparents were finally retiring. From what you remembered, it was like they had more energy and liveliness than everyone of your family who were way younger than them. It was a true call from reality to think that they were getting old too. You also thought of the ranch that they pour their heart and soul into managing. You remembered how you used to beg them to let you help with the work around the farm whenever you visited them as a child.

It had been way too long since you had been around the fields. You still remembered the feeling of being covered in sweat and dirt but still got back to the house with nothing but satisfaction in your chest. The smell of grass in the morning as you rode on the back of a horse and the things you had learnt through taking care of all the animals still fresh in your head.

That was how you took probably the biggest risk in your life and say yes to their offer. Now you were on the bus to Yuuei Town, days after you quitted your job and headed for a new start in somewhere you had never been to since you were still in middle school.

It was horrifying to think of to say the least. But you had made your decision and there was no turning back. This was your one chance of getting a whole new life and you would be damned if you didn’t take it. Many things could happen, and a lot of them were far from being good, but you were excited for your new beginning.

The sudden break of the car let out a sharp squeak from the tires and your body fell forward as it hit a stop. You looked out to see that you were no longer surrounded by trees but under the open sky, the tiny sign of the bus stop being the only thing man-made you had seen in a while.

“Yuuei Town”

Quickly getting your many luggage and your bags, you got off the bus and took a deep breath. Cold air filled your lungs and you felt alive once again. It had been too long since you had last gone anywhere remotely rural, even the air felt different. You did not quite remember which way was the correct one to your grandparent’s- well, perhaps you should call it your ranch from now on but you still tried your best to go on the right road with the little instruction that you were given.

You weren’t sure if they had renovated the roads or your childhood memories had betrayed you, but it took way longer than what you expected and a lot of going back after realising that you made the wrong turn for you to finally get to where you were supposed to be.

It brought you a sense of comfort to see that the ranch was still the same as what you remembered it as. The farmhouse was in a distance with the fields being in front and the barns for the animals were at the back. It had been a while to say the least, but as you walked past the wooden fences it was like going home after a long journey away.

The door to the farmhouse was unlocked and with a light push, you poked your head inside. Your grandparents had already left for their first destination by the time you arrived, as seen by how all the furniture were covered by a white plastic cover. Sliding a finger along the window frame, you scrunched your face together when you saw just how much dust was covering everything. It would take a long while for you to clean everything up, you sighed as you put your luggage down onto the floor.

You didn’t even know where to start with all that. Feeling absolutely clueless as you faced the lifeless house, the anxiety you had regarding this decision was starting to appear once more. You were on your own now, with no one to help you and no one to go to if you come across any trouble. It would take you days just to get everything settled down and not to mention getting the hang on how to actually get everything running...

You were scared, and you wondered if you really made the right decision.

It was as if the universe wanted to tell you to stop worrying when you heard a knock at the door. Opening the door, you were face-to-face, actually no he was nowhere near being your eye level, with a white mouse in full business attire. He(?) had a soft smile on his face and behind him was a man with stacks of files on his hands and a pair of rectangular glasses sat neatly on the bridge of his nose alongside with a girl who was very, very pink from head to bottom.

“Hello! You must be the new owner of the ranch, your grandparents told me about you before they left and I decided to come welcome you.” The mouse reached his hand out, “I’m Nezu, the mayor of this town. I will be in the Town’s office if you need anything.”

Shaking Mayor Nezu’s extended hand, you did not have much time to process the fact that the town’s mayor was a mouse before he continued. “This is Iida kun who is the secretary of the office,” the man behind him bowed and you did the same in response in absolutely panick at how formal he was, “and this is Ahisdo san who runs the stable in town.”

The girl grabbed your hand and beamed, “Nice to meet you but Ashido is too formal, you can call me Mina!”

“Ashido san! You are going to intimate them!”

You managed a chuckle at the exchange between the two people. Mayor Nezu cleared his throat to stop them from rambling and he continued. “I’m sure that there’s a lot you have to do to settle down. Yuuei Town is not very big but you can get everything you need in the town square. Please do get to know everyone around when you have time, everyone is very friendly and I’m sure they look forward to meeting you! I brought Iida kun and Ashido san here with me today so they can help you with some basics on how to get around the farm and other things you should know...”

They taught gave you all the information you needed about the town and tips on how to run the farm. It was a lot to take it and your mind was so close to wandering away only to be pulled back at the last second on several occasions. After what seemed like hours of talk with phrases that you had barely heard of before, countless bickering between Iida and Mina, and several moments where you wonder if mice can kill when you sensed the rising danger in Nezu’s tiny eyes as the two argued, they finally left but not without telling you that you were always welcomed to go to them for help if you need anything. Mina also very eagerly offered to take you to the best (and only) restaurant for lunch next week as Iida yelled at her to keep up.

Like that, they were gone and you were alone once more. It was weird to hear just how silent the house was when seconds ago it was filled with people talking. You definitely felt better when they were around but now that it was just you, you were starting to feel lost once again.

This would not do, you had to start somewhere. Your searching eyes landed on the same window frame you touched when you first entered the room. This place could use some ventilation. Taking a deep breath as if you had decided something, you pushed the windows open.

The evening breeze hit your face and you looked out to see that the sun was setting. Everything you saw was under the lovely golden hue of the descending sun. Leaning onto the wooden frame, the last bit of warmth landed on your face, creating a perfect balance with the soft wind. The grass moved along with the movement of the wind and its ruzzling passed into your ear.

From some reason, for no good reason at all, the sight in front of you gave you the sudden relieve that everything would be okay.

Everything would turn out to be okay.

Leaning back, you turned around to look at the mess that was your new home and rolled your sleeves up for first of the many days of hard work ahead.

#bnha imagines #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #mha imagines #mha imagine #mha x reader #harvest moon au

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xxx-cat-xxx · 5 years ago

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Vacation

This is my very fluffy @marveltrumpshate fic for @twentyghosts, whose wonderful stories made me fall in love with Science Bros. I hope you like it.

Many thanks to @whumphoarder and @sallyidss for beta reading!

___________

“This is ridiculous,” Tony moans, letting himself sink down on his backside to slide down a steep passage of the hill, his injured foot carefully stretched out in front of him. “For the record, this is the last time you get to plan our vacation.”

“You know, this is easily my fifth hiking trip in the Himalayas and the first time someone managed to get injured by tripping over their own feet on a perfectly straight road,” counters Bruce.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in...” Tony mutters, then winces when his ankle bounces on a stone and pain shoots up his leg.

“Hey.” Bruce’s expression sobers. “You sure you don’t want me to call for medevac?”

“I am not calling for medevac because I sprained my ankle on a vacation,” Tony retorts, already picturing the field day Barton would have upon hearing about it. Then seeing as Bruce is about to protest, adds, “And no, Bruce, it’s not broken. I think by now I should know what a broken bone feels like.” He uses a nearby branch to lever himself back upright and grits his teeth when he puts weight on his right foot. “Besides, we’re almost back—I think I can see the village down there.”

That was a bit optimistic. By the time they reach the village where they stayed the previous night, it’s already late evening and the sun has long since set. Tony is glad for his arc technology-powered flashlight that makes it possible for them to find a path in the dark forest covering the mountains.

They slowly make their way back through the village road—Tony’s arm slung around Bruce’s shoulders and his lips pressed tightly together, politely declining any offers of help from the few villagers that are still awake—before finally reaching their rental car.

Tony leans heavily against the driver’s side, glad to take the weight off his foot for a bit. He’s exhausted and feeling kind of shaky, which, he realises after hearing a loud growl from his stomach, might be because the last thing he ate was breakfast at the homestay that morning. It was only supposed to be a short hike up the mountain; they’d planned to leave for the city before dark after eating in the village, but then Tony’s foot had thwarted their plans.

Tony fumbles for the car keys in his pocket, then opens the door and lets himself fall inside with a groan. “Okay, let’s go,” he announces. “I hope the restaurants will still be open by the time we arrive—I’m fucking starving.” Then he realises that Bruce hasn’t made a move to get into the vehicle.

“Brucie?” In the rearview mirror, he sees his partner take their suitcase out of the trunk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bruce says in the tone of someone talking to a very stubborn child.

“I’m driving us back.”

Bruce scoffs. “No, not with that foot of yours, you’re not. How are you gonna work the pedals?”

“Fine,” Tony says in the most provocative tone he can muster, “then you drive us back.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “You know I don’t drive on these mountain roads, Tony. Especially not at night.”

Tony shrugs. “It’s your choice, darling.”

“This is not a choice at all!” Bruce says in frustration. “Don’t be ridiculous. Neither of us can drive tonight. You can barely walk.”

“You’re the one being ridiculous,” Tony declares. “If you’re not driving, then I am. This is nothing compared to what I’ve worked through on missions.”

“But this is not a mission.” Bruce bends down to the window, a softer expression on his face now. “Come on, Tony, there’s no need for you to prove anything to anyone. Let’s just spend another night at the homestay. We’ll ice your ankle and see how it’s looking tomorrow morning. I’d feel terrible making you drive for three hours while being in pain like this.”

Tony’s pride tells him (in Howard’s voice, of course) to just suck it up and drive anyway. But then his eyes meet Bruce’s warm ones and he feels his resistance melt. “Fine, whatever,” he agrees. “But I hope we can get a decent dinner there...”

When they reach the homestay, the lights are already out, and Tony’s hope for dinner extinguishes with them.

“Didn’t you want to go back to the city?” their host’s grown-up daughter, Radhika, asks them when she opens the door. She is dressed in a colourful long nightshirt and a warm shawl, her usually braided black hair falling over her shoulder.

“Yeah, we had a small…incident,” Bruce replies. He gestures to Tony’s foot, which is held awkwardly out in front of him.

“Oh, I see,” Radhika replies with a frown, then turns to shout over her shoulder, “Mata!”

Moments later, her mother—an elderly woman wearing the same combination of clothes—appears in the doorway and ushers them inside. She, Bruce, and Radhika start a conversation in Hindi, with Bruce evidently explaining their situation.

“She says her older daughter is a doctor in the hospital down in the city—it’s about four or five hours from here if we take a bus that leaves at six in the morning,” Bruce translates to Tony. “We can stay here overnight, but the room we had yesterday is already taken by other guests. They are offering us their spare room.”

“Fantastic...” Tony grumbles, grimacing both at the prospect of having to get up before sunrise and the word “spare room”, but it’s not like they have many other options. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Bruce nods and turns back to their hosts. Tony can’t understand the words, but he definitely makes out some English numbers in between.

“Bruce, are you seriously haggling right now?” he interrupts. “Maybe you’ve forgotten in the last few hours, but I am an actual billionaire.”

“Sorry, sorry, force of habit…” Bruce mutters, rubbing a hand over his brow. A few sentences later they seemed to have agreed on a price and Radhika takes the suitcase from Bruce’s hand to bring it to the spare room.

“Are you hungry?” the elder woman asks in heavily-accented English.

“Starving,” Tony agrees immediately.

“Tony!” Bruce scolds. “They’ve already had their dinner—they were about to go to sleep.”

He says something in Hindi to their host and another discussion ensues, which Bruce apparently loses.

“Great, now she’s staying up later to cook for us.” Bruce sighs, visibly uncomfortable.

Tony knows that Bruce doesn’t like anyone working for him, but Tony’s stomach is so empty that, combined with the pain in his foot, he feels almost nauseous. He’s sure that Bruce must be hungry as well. “We’ll give them a big tip, okay?”

Bruce bites his lip and nods.

Twenty minutes later, Tony is sitting on a plastic chair next to the freshly-lit fire in the middle of the family’s courtyard, His foot is resting on a pillow on a small stool with an ice pack (made from actual ice, thanks to the Himalayas) wrapped around the ankle. Now that the hiking boot has come off, it’s visibly swollen and pulsing in time with his heartbeat, and although Tony hasn’t admitted it to Bruce, he thinks that maybe he’ll have to correct his earlier statement about being sure that it’s not broken. According to Bruce, nothing can be done except for keeping it still and iced until they can get an x-ray done at the hospital tomorrow.

“Isn’t Indian food supposed to be spicy?” Tony mutters under his breath, slashing his spoon around in something that looks suspiciously like algae soup, except that it can’t be algae, because, well, Himalayas. “And tasty?”

Bruce frowns and gestures for him to keep his voice down. “I told you before, different regions have different dishes. India’s more of a continent than a country—things here are different than in Delhi or Mumbai. There is actually no such thing as Indian food, you know.”

“Still, I could have done with spicy now…” Tony grumbles. “This tastes like the stuff Steve makes when he gets nostalgic about the 40s.”

Bruce gestures him to be quiet and this time Tony obeys. He eats a bit more, and, despite the rather bland taste, feels his bad mood receding more the fuller his stomach gets. After dinner, Radhika brings them chai—for which Bruce thanks her profusely—and then settles down next to them, followed soon by her mother.

India, in Tony’s head, has always been a synonym for poverty, which is a bit weird because compared to Tony, almost everyone on the planet is poor. But as Bruce has been slowly showing him since their arrival, there is no one such thing as poverty—its appearance varies from city to village. Poverty can mean anything from not being able to afford a place to stay or sturdy shoes to wear, to living in a large farmhouse but going hungry because the crops were ruined by the last thunderstorm, to having a comfortable life but still being unable to afford a life-saving surgery due to lack of health insurance (which, as Bruce added, is not actually very different from the US).

Tony has seen his fair share of India’s high society—which, to be frank, is not much different from US high society (except for prettier, more colourful clothing and better food). He’s always imagined the rest of the country outside of luxurious hotels and glamourous wedding celebrations to be a mixture of the slums he’s seen from his car window while driving through the city and international aid commercials with dirty children begging for someone to feed them.

While all these realities certainly exist somewhere in India, he hasn’t really ever thought of everyone living in between both of the extremes—people like Radhika and her family, who don’t seem to fit into any of the stereotypes shown on CNN. He knows that one of the reasons Bruce took him on this low-budget holiday was to show him some of those realities, and Tony has to admit that he now has a much better idea about why Bruce sometimes misses the country so much—chai definitely being one of them, he thinks while watching his partner blow into the steam curling up from his cup.

They are sitting quietly, sipping their tea. Tony notices a black cat watching them from the shadow of the other side of the patio. He stretches out his hand and idly wiggles his fingers to make it come closer, but the cat just keeps on sitting, its gaze now slightly judgemental.

“Oh, she doesn’t like to cuddle,” Radhika comments. “But she knows everything that’s going on in the village, I tell you. She’s a spy.”

“Natasha,” Tony states, turning towards Bruce, who snickers into his chai. “We found Natasha’s Indian counterpart.”

“I wonder how the cat’s interrogation techniques compare,” muses Bruce.

“Let’s not find out,” replies Tony. “I’ve already got one injured joint, thank you.”

Radhika giggles at that.

“What’s so funny?” Tony asks, slightly irritated.

“It’s just…” she hesitates, visibly trying to contain a grin. “You are Iron Man. I mean, you defeated aliens and supervillains and all that…and then you sprain your ankle during a hiking trip.”

“Very funny,” Tony huffs. The corners of Bruce’s lips twitch.

“So if we take the bus in the morning, what about the car?” he changes the topic, suddenly realising the flaw in their plan. He gestures at his foot, then at Bruce. “You won’t let me drive, you won’t drive on your own—how are we supposed to get it back to the rental company?”

Radhika looks at her mother and says something. The woman shrugs and then gives one of those sideways head shakes Tony has seen Bruce do when he’s getting interrupted deep in his thoughts and forgets he’s not in Kolkata anymore—it means yes, he’s learned. “I can drive the car,” Radhika offers.

Tony looks at her critically. “No offence, but I was kinda planning to get back to New York in one piece.”

“Most people born in the village know the mountain roads by heart,” she says, “My sister visits us once a month and drives all the way with her tata, and sometimes I drive her back when I go to the city. I’ll drive the route regularly once I start my engineering college next year. With your fancy car it will be even easier.”

“Then we wouldn’t have to get up at five…” Bruce thinks aloud with a side glance at Tony.

“Well, that’s a compelling argument,” Tony agrees with a sigh. “Fine, kid, just try not to kill us.” He gets an angry look from Bruce for this.

Radhika smiles. Her mother collects the now empty cups and disappears towards the kitchen, shaking her head at Bruce’s offer to help her.

Radhika disappears for a few minutes and returns with a deck of cards. “Do you know Court Piece?”

They spend the next hour playing cards with Radhika, her mother, and eventually her father, who joins after being woken up by their laughter. Her mother turns out to be a cunning player, and together with Tony, their team wins the majority of rounds. Eventually, the family turns in, leaving Bruce, Tony, and Natasha-The-Cat at the smoldering campfire.

“The sky is so clear in the mountains,” Bruce states, leaning back in his plastic chair and gazing upwards. “You can see the Milky Way.”

Tony nods, looking straight ahead. Ever since the Battle of New York, stargazing isn’t really on the list of his favourite activities anymore—but then, seeing Bruce’s fascination, he takes a deep breath and holds onto his partner’s jacket a bit to ground himself before turning his head upwards. The Milky Way is clearly visible, and he has to admit, breathtakingly beautiful.

They stay out for a while longer until the fire dies down and the mountain cold starts to seep through their layers of high-quality hiking clothes and into their bones. The toes of Tony’s bad foot have gone from painful to numb and they decide to turn in before they start to fall off. Bruce helps Tony to their spare room, Tony teasingly kissing his neck and earlobe while leaning on him.

Radhika had told them that she put an electric heater in their room, but when they enter, they find it colder than outside, the heater dead on the ground. Bruce’s attempt to switch it on doesn’t yield any results.

“We can’t wake them up again,” Bruce says with a look at Tony, visibly steeling himself for an argument. “It’s the middle of the night and they already stayed up so long to cook for us.”

“What are you saying, Bruce? You’re travelling with your own personal on-call mechanic.” Tony grunts, already lowering himself down to the ground. “Let me take care of this baby.”

The device, however, proves to be as stubborn as the engineer trying to fix it. Fifteen minutes later, Tony is literally shaking and by now it’s not just his toes he can’t feel anymore, but also his fingers.

“I would need a soldering iron for this,” he complains. “The fuse is blown and it’s impossible to reconnect the wires without it.”

“Shh...” Bruce lays a warm palm over his lips and hugs Tony from behind. His body heat is wonderful—Tony feels himself melting into his partner. “Come to bed,” Bruce admonishes.

“Well, that’s a sentence I love to hear,” Tony replies with a lascivious grin. Stretching his arm behind himself and letting his fingers run down Bruce’s neck, Tony finds himself suddenly not having any issue leaving the device alone.

However, having sex turns out to be harder than it reasonably should.

The blanket is warm, but it seems to be filled with living geese instead of feathers since it weighs approximately 20 pounds. After wiggling his head free to stop the threatening feeling of suffocation, Tony manages to actually enjoy Bruce’s teasing and reciprocate appropriately. They have worked their way out of their shirts and Bruce is in the process of removing their pants when he jostles Tony’s foot and the engineer can’t suppress a yelp of pain.

“I’m sorry!” Bruce exclaims, “I’m so sorry, Tony, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Tony grunts, angry at himself for letting it slip. “Just, get on with it.”

Bruce frees himself from his half-lying position on Tony and almost topples down from the bed. Tony pulls him back in, biting his lip when his injured foot acts up again, but then concentrates on the arguably very distracting other things he’s got to do. After another five intense minutes of making out, Bruce pauses in the middle of a kiss.

“What?” Tony moans, his teeth impatiently reaching for his partner’s lower lip.

“Just remembered that the condoms are at the bottom of the suitcase,” Bruce mumbles.

“For god’s sake,” Tony curses. “It’s fine, I’ll go get them.”

“No, stay there, you’re not supposed to put weight on your foot…” Bruce extricates himself from both his partner’s embrace and the blanket before Tony can stop him.

Tony watches his boyfriend tiptoe over the ice-cold floor towards the suitcases, goosebumps forming all over his body, and start rummaging around. Then he notices the cursed cat has been sitting right next to their bags since god-knows-when, watching their mostly-naked forms with slitted eyes and definitely judging them now.

“I am s-so sure that I packed them back in after w-we used them in that hotel in D-Delhi…” Bruce sighs, rummaging through their belongings.

“God, Bruce, get back in here—I can hear your teeth chattering…” Tony sighs.

Bruce looks up with a guilty expression and definitely blue lips. “I don’t even know if I can do anything with the cat watching us,” he admits.

Tony opens the blankets half an inch in what is supposed to be an inviting gesture and his partner crawls back in, pressing himself against Tony as his whole body shakes.

“I can still try to do so-something nice for you with my h-hands,” Bruce whispers, “just l-let me warm up a little.”

“Sure, Bruciebear…” Tony teases, his voice the kind of sugarcoated that he’d never thought he’d use in any way except sarcasm. He feels a little saccharine though as he lies there, holding tightly onto Bruce’s soft body somewhere in the middle of the cold mountains.

Bruce’s shivering stops after a bit and a few minutes later, his breaths even out. Tony knows he won’t be able to sleep—the pounding in his injured foot is harder to ignore now that there is no distraction, and he’s not sleepy at all. It’s not that Tony doesn’t get tired; it’s just that the times he is and the times he is lying in an actual bed rarely ever coincide.

As he lies in the darkness listening to Bruce’s quiet snores, it occurs to him that he hasn’t checked his emails once since they left Delhi. Bruce would probably count this as a win in his plan to take Tony on a different kind of holiday and get his mind off SI-related projects and Iron Man. Tony briefly considers taking out his tablet and catching up with work, but then decides against it. It’s mostly because the thought of getting out of the blanket is not at all appealing, but also because he realises it’s been a while since Bruce slept like that in his arms and holding him feels... well, not bad.

Tony’s frequent nightmares always make themselves known—he will squirm and shift in his sleep, sometimes mumble or even moan when they get really bad—and if Bruce is around, he always wakes him up before it comes to that point. Bruce, on the other hand, dreams absolutely silently. It’s only when he takes in a short, sharp breath and stiffens in Tony’s embrace that he realises his partner is awake.

“You okay, Big Green?” Tony asks softly.

“Hmm,” Bruce mumbles, not very convincingly. He takes a few moments to ground himself, shift around and calm his now quick and shallow breaths, before his eyes settle on Tony. “You know, I always say I liked my time in Kolkata,” he says. “And I did. But I was still on the run, and it was never… never safe, you know? I always felt like I might have to leave any day. Sometimes it’s just hard to shake that feeling.”

"Well, this time you get to stay right here," Tony says, reaching for his partner’s hand under the blanket and squeezing it tight. "And thank god for that because we're not fleeing anywhere fast on this ankle," he adds with a huff of humour.

"Is it bad?" Bruce sounds concerned again—the exact opposite of what Tony was going for. "Do you need some more ice?"

"Nah," Tony dismisses with a flap of his hand. "I'll just stick it out of the blanket and let that famous Indian-Arctic air take care of it."

Bruce finally gives a short laugh at that and starts to settle down again before stopping suddenly. "We've got company," he observes.

“What?” Tony’s eyes dart to the door.

Bruce motions his head to the foot of the bed, where that damn Natasha-Cat has curled into a ball, a foot’s distance from Tony’s toes. “I guess that’s a compliment?” Bruce ventures. “She’s watching over us.”

“Or maybe she’s making sure that we don’t go anywhere else before she and her feline associates can kill us in the morning,” Tony retorts. “Cats are unpredictable.”

“I think you’re thinking of Nats, not cats,” Bruce says, curling back up under the blanket and shifting closer to Tony.

“Telling her you said that,” Tony mutters.

“Just go to sleep, Tony…”

The morning comes with rays of sunlight creeping through the gap under the door and the dusty window. Tony did get bored in the night after all and, after a couple of fruitless attempts to train Natasha to bring over his bag, he crept out of the bed himself to gather his StarkPad. Now the cat is sitting on the window pane above the bed, intently watching the light reflections on his screen.

Bruce wakes up when Radhika knocks on the door to bring them two cups of steaming chai and biscuits.

“Did you sleep at all after my nightmare?” he asks after thanking her and setting the tray on the bed.

“I was watching over you,” Tony replies cheesily. “Well, that and saving our Nigerian subsidiary from a diplomatic crisis.” Tony takes the cup of tea and carefully sits fully up against the headboard.

“How’s your foot?”

Tony grimaces. “Trying to win the competition for the world's largest eggplant.”

The ankle is swollen even more than the previous day and now a mottled green and blue colour. Bruce prods a few places and then decides that driving is not an option and getting to the hospital is the priority.

After having breakfast and packing (under Natasha’s watchful gaze), Tony thanks the family for their hospitality and leaves a generous tip before getting into the car.

Bruce sits on the passenger seat next to Radhika and Tony positions himself sideways on the backseat, the injured ankle stretched out. It quickly becomes evident that Radhika wasn’t exaggerating about her driving skills. She makes her way down the steep mountain safely, and admittedly, takes the sudden sharp turns much smoother than Tony did on their way up.

Radhika and Bruce start talking about Arundhati Roy’s newest book and then get into an argument about whether one should give money to beggars, only half of which is led in English. Tony feels himself zone out, tiredness finally taking over. He lets his head rest back against the window and watches the mountains slowly give way to hills as they get closer to the city.

Half asleep already, he thinks that despite everything, maybe he will let Bruce choose their next vacation after all.

____________

All my fics

#science bros #hurt tony #vacation #fanfic #tony stark #bruce banner #india #fuck caa #fuck ncr #which has nothing to do with the fic #but needs to be said

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thedistantstorm · 6 years ago

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The Enemy of My Enemy IX

Read: Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII

To her surprise, it isn’t Suraya herself who has to extend the olive branch. The Commander joins her in the spot Amanda had vacated an hour or two before, looking bone-tired and wary. He pushes a mug of tea into her hands, having brought one for each of them.

“Thanks,” Hawthorne says, lifting the mug to her lips and letting the warm, earthy taste soothe her. Zavala nods in reply, but does not say much. Hawthorne looks down into her mug, and sighs before letting it sit on the wide plank that acts as an armrest.

“Look-” They both say at the same time. It’s laughable, really. Both recoil a bit, eyes meeting and flashing away quickly. They’re terrible at this.

Zavala motions for her to go ahead. She shakes her head. “No. I pissed you off this time,” She says ruefully, turning toward him as best she can before retrieving the mug behind her on the armrest. “Let me have it.”

He’s silent for a few moment, obviously selecting his words carefully. “What you did was… admirable,” He finally says. “I cannot say I would not have done the same… if it had come to that.”

She bites the inside of her lip and looks down and away, nodding just a tiny bit.

“But, Hawthorne, we cannot win this war without you.” And then, quieter, “I cannot win this war without you.”

That does garner a chuckle from her, a mildly nervous one, intent on belaying the intensity of the emotions he’s bringing to the surface in them both. “You’re kidding me, right? You could absolutely win this war without me,” She says. “How many battles have you seen them through?”

The Commander shakes his head. “It isn’t that.”

“Look,” Hawthorne tells him, “I’m one person. I get that I’m the one that everyone’s seen, the ‘leader,’” She air quotes. “But don’t think for a second that you need me to win this.”

“It wouldn’t be the same without you,” Zavala finally admits, and his eyes are so very blue - glassy and clear, like pools of the arc-light that she’s seen Guardians use in the past. “I don’t want to do this without you. I will, but-”

“I mean, I’m here, aren’t I?” She shrugs. “Would’ve been a lot easier to give up out there, instead of dragging my ass back here.” She casts a gaze over at him.

He stiffens. That’s true, he thinks. He wouldn’t dream of saying it aloud.

“I’ll make you a promise,” She says, after a few moments go by.

His eyes drag over to hers from the fire. “A promise?”

“A promise.” Hawthorne smiles gently. “Between two leaders of this chaos we’re calling a rebellion. Or, you know,” She rolls her eyes, as if she cannot believe she’s saying it, “Friends.”

Uneasy is the best word to describe his expression. She’s pretty sure he’s not used to that sort of thing - friends? - really, that makes two of them. She’d been thinking about this all night, but, if she’s to trust what Amanda says, it needs to be said between them.

“Alright,” Zavala says carefully. “Let’s hear it,” He breathes, not with malice but concerned all the same.

She takes a deep breath and goes for it. “We’re going to do this together. Win this war, take back the Traveler, get your Light back, all of it. Together. I can’t promise you I won’t sacrifice myself for the greater good, because that’s who I am, but I’m not going to leave you alone to fight this war by yourself if I can help it. Fair?”

He sits quietly for a few moments, thinking it through. She returns her gaze to the fire. It’s several moments later that he relents. “Fair,” He tells her. He relaxes against the bench and, unlike Amanda earlier, when he nods off beside her, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest.

A week or so later, something interesting happens.

Amanda stops dead in her tracks, eyes locking on cyan optics coming from the direction of the Cryptarch. Cayde waggles his brows and puts a finger to his mouth plates. They duck down and meet in the middle, beneath one of the cracked windows of the rickety Farmhouse, frozen still and listening carefully.

Sarcasm laden words ring out, but the playfulness behind them shines through. Hawthorne tells Zavala, “You took the words right out of my mouth. Let’s not make this a habit, okay?”

That’s interesting, and Amanda looks at Cayde, who looks back with a little, curiosity-driven tip of his head. But that’s not the kicker.

The kicker is the warm, low laugh of their depressed-as-of-late Commander, rich and full. “We’ll see,” He tells Hawthorne, and returns to the task at hand. Amanda always said his laughter was a balm on the soul, and she stands by that.

Cayde, however, has his mouth stuck in a very surprised ‘o’ shape. Amanda nudges him with an elbow to move from where they sit. Zavala is back on track, encouraging the Guardian to decimate a Fallen Pike gang, and Hawthorne is relaying information from reports while he’s not speaking over the air.

“Since when,” The Exo whispers, when Amanda gives him her best impersonation of Zavala’s ‘look’ to remind him to be quiet, “Did Big Blue and Poncho start doing the dirty?”

“They aren’t,” Amanda whispers back, vehemently. “Up until a bit ago, they were barely speaking.”

“Amanda. Sweet, innocent, Amanda. They’re banging,” Cayde drops it on her, like a ton of bricks. “They’re absolutely banging.”

The Shipwright scoffs. “Yeah right, buddy.”

“I’m not kidding! If they aren’t doing the deed,” Cayde presses, “They will be soon. Hawthorne was flirting, and Zavala was totally into it.”

“Hawthorne doesn’t know what flirtin’ is,” Amanda tells him.

“No?”

“No,” She insists.

The Hunter Vanguard knows an opportunity when he sees one. He smirks.“Then how about a little wager?”

#zavala x hawthorne #steelponcho #commander zavala #suraya hawthorne #cayde-6 #amanda holliday #the red war #pre-relationship #the farm #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn best burn #eome destiny fanfic #destiny fanfiction #destiny stories #destiny fanfic #destiny fan fiction

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onekindesign · 6 years ago

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California wine country farmhouse designed with timeless details

This beautiful wine country farmhouse was designed by Arc Design and Jute Interior Design, located in Healdsburg, Sonoma County, California. The stone clad vacation retreat is full of rustic yet refined luxury interiors with a muted palette and comfortable furnishings. With a wonderful mix of textures and textiles, the open plan interiors is delineated by cozy area rugs and perfect furniture…

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#Arc Design #California #farmhouse #Healdsburg #Jute Interior Design #Sonoma County #swimming pool #vacation home

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viewget-blog · 8 years ago

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Midnight in Sapporo, stepping on snow on the street, to believe that this is Hokkaido. Excited to stand in the middle of the road, lift the camera to leave the memory. To the hotel to lay down their luggage, to see a nearby “Tsinghua Pavilion”, that the pavilion with Tsinghua University, what is the source, but unfortunately, the original name a bit like, the other is not detached. Qinghua Pavilion yard deep snow, and some places did not have two ankles, accidentally snow slipped into the shoes, the tide of the reel.

In the back of the mountain on the water, is a hot spring town, in addition to have a skiing in the DPRK, but these are later learned, then get off, only in this strange town, stroll around, take the point of landscape. Hokkaido building relative to the continent, is lively and cheerful, full of romantic atmosphere. Look at the inside of a lot of huts outside the wall painted golden, pink, and other bright colors, you can appreciate the different Hokkaido.

Hakodate is the only hills in Hakodate, 334 meters above sea level, and its top is the best place to overlook Hakodate Night and Tsugaru Strait scenery. Hakodate night view and Hong Kong Victoria Harbor, Italy Naples night and known as the “world three night”, is Hakodate sightseeing can not miss the content. Hakodate mountain night is wonderful in the city on both sides of the two arc-shaped coastline, flashing urban lights and dark sea in sharp contrast, beautiful and charming.

Sitting on a small bottle of the car, a beautiful view of the cable car, calm harbor in the various types of yachts, the road covered with thick snow, blue sky reflected blue sky, the sky clouds from the end of the sea rushing out of the roll , It seems like a cloud of waves, to the land like.

Go to the Otaru Canal. In fact, later found that there are a lot of worth looking at the Japanese historical relics, Otaru canal along the river bank to the north of an old warehouse group, these buildings as a cultural relics are preserved, and now more into a small hotel, small hotel. Canal is not wide, estimated 20 meters, the two sides covered with snow, but unfortunately did not place the introduction of the photo in the ice, or must be very crystal.

From Otaru Station to Tengwushan Ski Area, there is a bus operation, and it is located on the bus stop on the terminal. You can look down upon Otaru, which is surrounded by the ocean, and the scenery is beautiful. Even if not skiing, it is worth looking for a good day, here to see the whole picture of Otaru! Of course, if you ski, you can board the summit, enjoy more beauty.

Asahiyama Zoo is Japan’s northernmost zoo, but also Japan’s largest polar zoo. The Asahiyama Zoo is famous for its unique way of displaying animal behavior. Through the unique design of the exhibition hall, the animals show their instincts in a relatively free state of keeping the same time, but also allow visitors to watch the natural state of the animals without any obstacles.

South Chitose Station outside the scenery is good, distant stands a mountain like Mount Fu mountain, all the way similar to Hebei / Inner Mongolia grassland, but the woods more. Temperature is much more than Sapporo – Otaru high, much less snow, a lot of rango ranch, horse leisurely grazing. Where the density of the room is much lower than the developed areas, the terrain opened, people can not believe this is Japan. Dense farmhouse, dotted with grassland leading to the mountains. The door facing the deep and vast of the Pacific, the backyard can look into the snow-covered huge mountain, the original Japanese also have such a romantic place, absolutely not lose anywhere in the world. At that time the parking station is “Kam Gang”, as its name!

Toya Lake is the most northern tip of Japan is not frozen lake, winter is not frozen. Spring cherry blossoms in the spring, the summer will be placed in the fireworks, autumn forest dyed. Come here to visit the lake, in the lake on the island to watch the deer, the south bank of the hot spring street there are many hot spring hotels, bubble open-air hot springs, look beautiful, very comfortable.

Lake Toya is located in the southwestern part of Hokkaido, is a volcanic lake, where the waves throughout the year with ripe lake. Lake Central on the island to live a lot of lovely sika deer, there is a forest museum, you can take a boat on the island. Lake south of the lake there are cave Lake hot springs, there are beads volcano and Showa Mountain and other tourist attractions, is a good place for leisure and vacation. You can enjoy the lake and mountain scenery on the Toyako Lake Hot Spring Street. You can enjoy the lakes and mountains in the south, and there is a volcano and a new mountain in the mountains. When the weather is fine, you can look to the mountains of Mount Fuji.

To the hutbang Bang, decided to go to the hot spring wind field. Japan’s spa baths are mostly run by some hotels or small hotels, you can go in a bath, but not accommodation, so it is very cheap, generally about 500 yen on it. In front of the endless Pacific, the skin mixed with warm spring water and cold sea breeze to stimulate the breath of fresh air, mixed with the magic of the magic of magic. From time to time there are a few seabirds wings passing, afternoon, the sky also fell pieces of snow, dissolved in your side. I am naked with the body, facing the ocean, began to chew on the convenience store in the convenience store bought the fragrance of the red Fuji apples, and then began to taste the caviar sandwiched rice balls. Only in Hokkaido, can we feel the rare Japanese romance, leisure and cozy, right?

Tomita Farm is the heart of Furano Lavender, known for its gardening landscapes combined with different varieties of lavender fields. The farm entrance has Furong’s specialty melon, honey pudding, lavender pudding, melon flavored ice cream and lavender Ice cream and other flavor for sale, as well as long tables and chairs for rest and diet. In addition, the farm also has a gift store, the sale of lavender dried flowers, essential oils, perfumes, cosmetics, incense and so on to lavender as raw materials processing Furano wild products.

Hokkaido does not need to whitewash the packaging, you want to open the mind, then come to Hokkaido it!

Hokkaido, take the dream express train and adventure in the fairy tale snow world was originally published on View Get

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