#horse brain hungry feed it apples

[anyonghalimaw]

i cut up apples as an occasional fibrous treat 4 my dog but every time i do its like some small part of my brain also found in horses activates and is like Hmmmm delicious fruit snack and then i get distracted and stop chopping

[drymushroomfics]

Reminiscing

Sandor Clegane x Female Reader

Next

Chapter One

"Sandor."

"You don't want this, girl."

"It's all I want."

You take in a breath, thoughts drifiting back to what you lost... To who you lost.

Your brain drifts to him less and less as time goes on. The pain of what happened hurts less and less as the time passes too.

You'd never been one to trust or love anyone.

You kept to yourself when you worked in the kitchen at the Red Keep.

He always waited until there was no one left in the kitchen, then he'd come in and ask for dinner. It became like clockwork. You'd finish all your cleaning duties once everyone had left and he'd walk in and sit at the table. You never understood why he never ate with the other Kingsguard but you never bothered asking. For at least a month, you never spoke to each other; just sharing silent glances.

When you had spoke to him finally, he only gave small responces. He was not one for social situations and you were almost glad for it because you were just the same.

Everyone was always so scared of him but you never felt that fear. You only felt curious toward him. You wanted to know more about the King's guard dog and you had learned more than you expected all those years ago.

•○•◇•○•♡•○•◇•○•

Taking a break you step down from your horse. After tying her to a tree off the trail, you move to find anything to ease the ache in your stomach.

You're greatful to whatever gods looking down at you when you manage a rabbit and two apples.

You feed the apples to your mare, relieved to see her not hungry anymore.

Moving to the fire you'd started, you began skinning and cooking the small rabbit.

Digging into your small find, you let more memories play through your head.

  One day while working the kitchen, you had heard the servants talking of King Joffrey. He had apparently been rather cruel to Sandor. He had been the object of Joffrey's amusings all day. You knew it was bad if the servant's had thought it was cruel treatment to Sandor.

You expected him not to show that night but there he was, right on time.

You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when he walked in. You pushed the plate toward him and gave him a small smile. He looked you right in the eye. He never did that and you felt sometime shift inside you.

When you turned your gaze away out of embarrassement, he scoffed.

"Can't stand to look at me either, girl?", he had asked you.

"I have not a problem with you.", you had told him, moving to continue your duties.

"Don't lie to me, girl."

"Just because you've had a shit day, doesn't mean you can can come down here and be crued towards me, Clegane."

You had watched him stand up and move toward you. He had you pinned against the counter, trying to intimidate you.

"You don't scare me.", you told him.

"Why's that?", he smirked.

"If you're a dog like everyone says, then all dogs can be tamed by certain people."

"Think that'll be you just because you set my supper aside and I don't yell at ya every time I walk through the fuckin' door?"

"May be... But I'm not sure if you deserve to be a tamed dog."

"Have no need for being tamed. Especially by a little bunny like you."

That's where the nickname he gave you started. You remember it all too well as you eat the meat from the rabbit.

It was weeks before you saw Sandor again. You always left him food anyway, just in case.

When he did come back, you could see his surprise that you still left out his dinner.

"Starve?", you asked with a smirk on your face, "Figured you'd have to return to eating down here some time."

He didn't reply as he sat and scarfed down his food.

"Why'd you call me little bunny?", you had asked me a few moments later.

"You're always hopping about the fuckin' kitchen like a rabbit.", he had told you.

You had laughed and nodded in aggreement.

That's how your friendship with Sandor Clegane had started. From that night on, you did start talking and the romantic feelings had seemed to just seep into the both of you.

[gogglemouse]

"Maud Muller"

"Maud Muller, on a summer’s day, Raked the meadow sweet with hay.

Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Of simple beauty and rustic health.

Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee The mock-bird echoed from his tree.

But when she glanced to the far-off town, White from its hill-slope looking down,

The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast,—

A wish that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known.

The Judge rode slowly down the lane, Smoothing his horse’s chestnut mane.

He drew his bridle in the shade Of the apple-trees to greet the maid,

And ask a draught from the spring that flowed Through the meadow across the road.

She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up, And filled for him her small tin cup,

And blushed as she gave it, looking down On her feet so bare, and her tattered gown.

“Thanks!” said the Judge; “a sweeter draught From a fairer hand was never quaffed.”

He spoke of the grass and flowers and trees, Of the singing birds and the humming bees;

Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether The cloud in the west would bring foul weather.

And Maud forgot her brier-torn gown And her graceful ankles bare and brown;

And listened, while a pleased surprise Looked from her long-lashed hazel eyes.

At last, like one who for delay Seeks a vain excuse, he rode away.

Maud Muller looked and sighed: “Ah me! That I the Judge’s bride might be!

“He would dress me up in silks so fine, And praise and toast me at his wine.

“My father should wear a broadcloth coat; My brother should sail a painted boat.

“I’d dress my mother so grand and gay, And the baby should have a new toy each day.

“And I’d feed the hungry and clothe the poor, And all should bless me who left our door.”

The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill, And saw Maud Muller standing still.

“A form more fair, a face more sweet, Ne’er hath it been my lot to meet.

“And her modest answer and graceful air Show her wise and good as she is fair.

“Would she were mine, and I to-day, Like her, a harvester of hay:

“No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs, Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues,

“But low of cattle and song of birds, And health and quiet and loving words.”

But he thought of his sisters proud and cold, And his mother vain of her rank and gold.

So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on, And Maud was left in the field alone.

But the lawyers smiled that afternoon, When he hummed in court an old love-tune;

And the young girl mused beside the well, Till the rain on the unraked clover fell.

He wedded a wife of richest dower, Who lived for fashion, as he for power.

Yet oft, in his marble hearth’s bright glow, He watched a picture come and go;

And sweet Maud Muller’s hazel eyes Looked out in their innocent surprise.

Oft, when the wine in his glass was red, He longed for the wayside well instead;

And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms To dream of meadows and clover-blooms.

And the proud man sighed, with a secret pain, “Ah, that I were free again!

“Free as when I rode that day, Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay.”

She wedded a man unlearned and poor, And many children played round her door.

But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain, Left their traces on heart and brain.

And oft, when the summer sun shone hot On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot,

And she heard the little spring brook fall Over the roadside, through the wall,

In the shade of the apple-tree again She saw a rider draw his rein.

And, gazing down with timid grace, She felt his pleased eyes read her face.

Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls Stretched away into stately halls;

The weary wheel to a spinet turned, The tallow candle an astral burned,

And for him who sat by the chimney lug, Dozing and grumbling o’er pipe and mug,

A manly form at her side she saw, And joy was duty and love was law.

Then she took up her burden of life again, Saying only, “It might have been.”

Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, For rich repiner and household drudge!

God pity them both! and pity us all, Who vainly the dreams of youth recall.

For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: “It might have been!”

Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies Deeply buried from human eyes;

And, in the hereafter, angels may Roll the stone from its grave away!" -John Greenleaf Whittier

[a-whisper-in-the-closet]

Every once in a while I get reminded of how us humans don't really interact with other living beings, (or even just other animals,) the same way all across the board.

Some of us coddle them like an infant, some of us act like they're a toy, some of us act like they're a trophy, some of us expect them to listen to us and understand, some of us are afraid, and you'll rarely see a human act the same way to any living being across the board either. It's strange to me.

I see a cat and I think "This is like a human, but with different bones and a strange diet and no way of speaking my human words yet might be able to understand many of them if they can hear and be taught them," just the same way I look at a dog or a horse or a cow or a rabbit or a bee or a fly or a wasp or a flower or a tree. A tree can communicate that it is sick by looking sickly just as a dog can communicate that it is sick by whining and not eating well just as a human can communicat that it is sick by saying that it needs help in those similar manners.

I see that I am human, (I have a human mouth and a human nose and human eyes and human ears and a human brain with human lungs and a human throat and human kidneys and a human liver and a human pancreas and a human heart,) and I can see that I am different from a crow because a crow needs to eat different things and can eat things I never could and I still think of a crow as yet another person.

The apples in my refrigerator are apple tree ovaries that I will eat because I am hungry and the chicken that I feed my cat was alive and the songbirds that were killed by the bluejay family for nesting near my house were a family; this is life. I am alive because I kill and I kill because I want to live. I do not even need to live, but I selfishly want to so I do. I kill and I eat and I step on pheromone trails that the ants that were marching a few metres away needed to find their way home; I live and I kill and I am a murderer of a lackadaisical sort. My existence is another's sorrow because I will always be killing something if I live, my feet are too big to never kick the anthill under the grass that I did not see or step on the house flie stuck in sap I had not noticed until I took off my shoes.

This, of course, is not to say that I do not value life, but it is to say that I know death. I walk it, breathe it, live it, at all times. I know how valuable my life is, how much I love myself and the things I love, so I can understand how much someone can love someone or something that is close to them. If I can love my dog enough that I would let myself be tortured to keep him safe, how much would another do to let someone they intimately love live? I am sure a flie mourns something, even if that something is itself. I am sure my dog wakes up each day with some happiness or anger or other emotion because I know that he changes his wants in the morning; sometimes it is a walk and sometimes it is food and sometimes he buries his head into my body and I can almost feel him sob. He is sad sometimes and my rat mourned his brother for weeks by eating less and sitting unmovingly in my arms. How could I see these animals express love and joy and hope and sadness and fear and hunger and pride and never once consider that maybe they truly do know what I am saying when I tell them how much I love them? How much they would suffer if they ever thought I was a keeper and not a friend?

It confuses me that anyone would look at grass or trees or fungal systems with communication networks that tell each other how to live and who is there or if they are in pain and not see a person. What is a person if not a chemical soup filled with electricity and liquids that ooze to create different chemical reactions? What is the reason that we eat if not to fuel our organic computer with the necessary reactants? It is just as a bird will pull a worm that we will pick an apple from a tree and none of those four are any higher than the other, it is just the way of the world that works and trees will eat the dead.

I don't particularly gain joy from eating a person or what could have been so but instead gain a sort of sacredness to meals; these people suffered for my meal, both in having died and having lived, and have experienced an end that I can only wish was okay. I can only hope and wish that the person I have let die for my life to continue did not suffer too much before it slipped away and so I will. That being would have killed just as I have but I wish for it to have lived a life in which it could have some form of comfort. I hope that this thing or these things, all which lie on my plate, will be and have been able to die peaceably enough.

It's a slightly hopeless request, food being farmed in an industry practice built on profit instead of health and wellbeing, but I can still have it.

I guess all of this is to say that humans confuse me. I love my rat as I would my best friends as I would a stranger from India as I would a fire ant as I would a poplar tree. I love them all dearly and truly, even if they can scare me or hurt me, and I would give my life to keep these people from harm. It confuses me to value any one person over another, even if I accept it as truth.

[justanotherfanwriter]

Ok ok ok, a male gerudo is born like every hundred years, right? And in botw they beat ganon, who I’m assuming was once the male gerudo. So, ignoring the dehydrated corpse in totk, wouldn’t it be funny if the reincarnation cycle for ganon kicked in almost immediately, and Link and Zelda are like “wait he’s a fking baby now?” shh, I know, it doesn’t make sense, just go with it.

Anyway, May can’t get here fast enough, so have a baby au! I have 3-ish more ideas for this au, so here’s to hoping I can kick my ass into writing them!! Per usual, I didn’t edit this as well as I should have.

==================================================

 Zelda’s steps were light as she climbed down the stairs of the little cottage. She stuck close to the hand rail as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning, Link,” She greeted through a yawn, walking past him at the dining table where he sat spooning something unidentifiable into the mouth of a baby.

“Good morning, Prinnncesssss,” He cooed back, exaggerating slightly for the baby’s entertainment as he flew a spoonful of mash playfully in the air before diving it into the baby’s open mouth.

Zelda smiled, rolling her eyes. Despite her pleas to stop, Link was adamant about using her old title. It was entirely unnecessary; the Kingdom was no more, but he insisted nonetheless. Supposedly, it helped his still fretful memory.

She continued onto the breakfast nook, following the scent of warm, fresh brewed coffee, and went through her normal motions. She filled the cup, added her sweeteners, and at long last, took a spirit-saving sip.

“Ahh,” She sighed in relief, smacking her lips, “it’s delicious today.”

“My best pot yet?” Link teased, looking up from the infant to smile at her. His smile was, per usual, picturesque, stopping her heart momentarily, but she kept that to herself.

Instead, she smiled back, “It just might—” Her brain came to a reeling halt, words instantly forgotten. She looked at Link, then down at her coffee. Back to Link. Her coffee. Finally, to the baby with a mouthful of puree. Back to her coffee. To Link. To the baby. To Link. To the baby. To Link, and again, the baby.

“Link?” She asked.

“Yes?” He answered, his attention again away from her. His face contorted into an “O” shape as he spooned more food into the baby’s mouth, and the baby mimicked him with round eyes keenly interested in Link’s antics.

“What is that?” She said calmly, pointing towards the baby. In most Hyrulian circles, this was a highly offensive gesture. To get someone’s attention or point another person’s attention elsewhere, Hylians often used signifiers like “HEY!” or “LISTEN!”, and then used their eyes to gesture where they wanted.

They did not point.

Zelda, being a former princess of Hyrule, was well aware of this informal social rule. In this specific instance, she chose to ignore it.  

“Oh, this?” Link shook the container of mash, “Apple puree. I added a little cinnamon. It’s quite good.”

“No, not that—that!” She emphasized, jabbing her finger repeatedly at the baby.

Link’s eyebrows furrowed, “You mean the baby?”

“Bah?” The baby’s face twisted, and his little fist making grabby motions at spoon, angry his meal hovered too far from his mouth.

“Nooo, I mean the full-grown man right in front of you!” She threw up her arms, “Yes! Of course! I mean the random Gerudo baby. Who else would I be referring to!?”

“Ah,” Link’s eyes went wide with understanding, and he nodded, “yes, well, he was on the doorstep this morning. I almost stepped on his little basket when I went to feed the horses.”

She felt her eyes bulge out their sockets, “Do you know who that is?”

“Well, considering he’s a baby, no, we haven’t yet had the pleasure to meet until just this morning. Hungry little thing, though. Likes a good apple puree.” He paused, tilting his head as he examined the baby in full as if for the first time, “Well, Hylia, it seems we already have a lot in common.”

“Link!” Zelda stomped over, pointing another accusatory finger at the baby, “It’s Ganon!”

Link looked from her to the baby before slowly turning his attention back her.

“The baby,” He deadpanned.

“Yes!”

“You think the baby, this one right here,” He nodded his chin at the baby, and then gestured towards the door of the cottage, “is the castle sized monster I slayed in Hyrule Field?”

Zelda felt her face color, “Y-yes!”

“The monster that enslaved you for over one hundred years?”

“Yes!”

“This baby?”

“Who else!”

“Did you sleep well last night, Princess? You usually have more wit about you.”

“Don’t take that tone with me!” She stomped, propping her hands on her hips, “I know it’s Ganon because I was stuck with Ganon! A Gerudo prince is born every one hundred years after the last one passes—”

“It hasn’t even been fou—”

“—I know it’s only been four months! But we put his spirit to rest—”

“Well—” He interrupted again, amending her statement, “—I put his spirit to rest.”

Zelda stopped raving, slowly lowering her arms to stare at her former knight. He met her stare evenly with a Hylia-forsaken smirk.

“Sort-of just popped in at the end, didn’t you?” He mused, turning back to the baby.

She swore she felt a blood vessel pop as she glared at him. Through gritted teeth she spoke, “We.”

“That’s not what everyone else says,” he teased back, and then cooed at the baby, “huh, Ganon, what do you think? Did the Princess put your spirit to rest?”

The baby gurgled around a spoonful of food, much more interested in the glittering guardian shield hanging up behind Link then the two adults bickering.

Flushed and embarrassed, she turned away from the both of them and stomped her way back up the stairs.

“Fine!” She scowled, “If you want to play house with Demise itself, by all mean, be my guest! Can’t say I’m surprised! No one ever listens to me!” She started throwing her meager belongings into her knapsack, “Don’t know why I bother! Don’t know why I stay!”

“I thought it was because you have nowhere else to go,” Link supplied from the table; the amusement in his voice floating up to the loft.

She placed a finger kiss on Urbosa’s brow, and then, stomped back down the stairs with her things in tow, “I’m leaving!”, and when she got no suitable response, she spoke again, barely able to contain her rage, “For good this time! I’m staying with Purah, and tomorrow I’ll have Symin take me back to Impa! This is it!”

She kicked open the door, and before she slammed it shut, she hissed, “And no following me! I mean it! I can’t stand you!”

“I’ll see you at dinner then?” Link’s voice sang out after her, and to give credit where credit was due, not even Bolson batted an eye when she screamed.

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

“Ah,” Link smiled when the door was, once again, kicked open (thank Hylia for sturdy oak); he didn’t bother to look at who was behind him. He knew well enough already. Spooning out her plate of dinner, he hummed, “you’re back just in time.”

“I’m not back!” Zelda argued as she threw down her knapsack, “I’ve come to say my final peace!”

Finally, Link turned to face her. The look on his face was soft with affection, “over food, at least?”

He looked stupidly cute with the baby gurgling over his shoulder, strapped to his back where his sword usually belonged. It surprised her enough that the dark look on her face momentarily relaxed, and she stared at the bowl of stemming pumpkin stew he was holding out to her before she remembered herself.

Despite her grumbling stomach, her pretty sneer was back in its proper place, and she huffed, “What? Let me guess, you put a ton of meat in it as punishment? You want to poke more fun at me?”

Link laughed. It sounded as it always did, airy and calm. Link had never been a loud laugher. The sound of it reminded her more of an old wise librarian, and not a reckless adrenaline junkie fond of swords and mud.

“I wouldn’t do that,” He placed her stew down at her normal spot. He pointed to her bowl, “no meat,” then he pointed to his, “meat,” finally, he pointed to a smaller dish next to his own, “baby food.” His eyes crinkled in amusement, “I was tempted to serve you that, but—”

“I’m leaving!” She turned back to the door, “Farewell forever! Don’t ask after me!”

“I said, but,” Link laughed again, pulling her back into the cottage, and plopping her down at the table. “Ganon and I both decided you’ve been teased enough for today.”

A worried look passed over her face, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, looking towards Link, the baby, and her bowl of stew. She chewed on her cheeks for a moment, considering what he had said, when, accidentally, she blurted out, “You were very mean!”

If at all possible, the look on Link’s face softened even more as he put the bowl down in front of her, “I was.”

“It hurt my feelings,” She whined, but the crease of her forehead signaled she was worrying over something much bigger then hurt feelings.

“I’m sorry,” He hummed, kneeling down next to her seat.  

She turned slightly to face him, doe eyes impossibly large and grief stricken, “I helped you a little bit, didn’t I?”

This pulled another smile out of Link, large enough to even show his teeth, which was an incredible rarity, “More than a little bit, every single day. You protected Hyrule for so long, Princess, I could never forget that.”

“But everyone—” She started to argue.

“—Hyruleans aren’t always…very intelligent, are they?”

Zelda pondered this for a moment before visibly relaxing. “Literacy rates have gone down in the last one hundred years,” she conceded.  

The corners of Link’s eyes crinkled with amusement, and he sat back on his hunches, mindful of the baby, to push the bowl of stew on the table closer to her.

“Eat?” He asked.

“Oh, yes,” She often had to be reminded to do so, “I’m—I’m sorry, Link, I didn’t—”

“Just eat,” He hummed, and then, opened his mouth to say something more—maybe something just a little too charming to be considered friendly banter—when his head suddenly tugged to the side. He hissed, one of his eyes shutting reflexively in pain, and reached behind him, “Ah, no, lil Ganon, no pulling.” Carefully, Link extracted a chunk of his hair from a small, chubby hand, and explained, “He’s fond of hair, anything sparkly, and apple puree. That’s all you’ve missed.”

There was a long beat, as if Zelda was purposefully trying to forget the baby existed in real time before she let out an uneasy breath and asked, “You’re calling the baby Ganon?”

“It’s funny,” Link shrugged with another one of his infamous airy laughs as he wrestled fistfuls of hair away from the baby strapped to his back.

“He almost destroyed all of Hyrule.” Zelda commented, trying her hardest to keep her voice as neutral as possible, but she was sure he could still hear the twinge of hysteria.  

“Almost.” Link echoed, “Besides, wasn’t it actually Demise? There are too many names to remember.”

“It was both of them!”

And, ah, yes, now, there was the hysteria.

“Only the most virtuous of people can hold the triforce of power. It’s plagued by Demise itself, who craves power like no other. Only the strongest-willed are successful at overcoming its temptations, and when they cannot, well—” She gestured around, “—we all suffer for it.”

“And I can sense it,” She explained, clutching at the fabric of her shirt over her chest; panic seeping into her features. “That child holds the triforce of power. Demise is already in him, with his malice and evil, trying to corrupt him. He may be a baby now, but it is only a matter of time before he dooms us all.”

Link stopped wrestling little hands away from his hair and earrings to stare at her. He mulled over what she had said with a sullen, almost disgusted look. Finally, he spoke, “Ah, so, I’m underestimated, you’re never listened to, and lil Ganon’s will simply cannot break. Very fair.”

“I never said it was fair.”

Link let a deep breath out through his nose, “Princess—” She cringed; sometimes she liked when he called her that, sometimes it felt like a knife to her heart, and it was one of those times where it felt like a knife to her heart, “—what makes you think this time Ganon will fail?”

She said simply, “History.”

Link rolled his eyes, “Well, excuse me, your highness, but the last time someone accused my charge of failing, it was only because of the people around her, not her lack of trying.”

Zelda sucked in a rapid breath, seemingly taken back by the admission despite Link saying something similar many times before. This time it was different. This time she heard it, the way she spoke to herself of herself, and how she was now placing that doubt on a child. It was like a slap to the face, and she felt she was no better then her father’s Court, who had treated her so poorly during her own childhood. She didn’t want to be like that—like them.

Tears pricked her eyes, but she had no words. Instead, she stared at Link, who continued to speak.

“I will not let another one of us do it on our own. If what your saying is true—and I’ve never known you to be a liar—and this child, no, this infant,” he corrected, “has to face what we faced within himself, I will be by his side when that time comes.”

“It’s not up to us. It’s up to him. We can’t do anything.”

“For Hyrule, we have to try.” He looked up at her seriously from his knees as if he was swearing allegiance once more to the crown, and something in her fluttered, “I will not lose this world again. I will not lose you again. We have to try. It’s what Hylia would want, you know that, and you would be the best person to teach him that, to teach him Her light.”

“Our time is done. She no longer speaks to me,” She whispered, “how could I teach him anything useful?”

“You’re the only one who knows what he’ll be going through, and how hard it will be, and how much is at stake, and what sits on his shoulders if he doesn’t succeed.”

“You do too,” She argued feebly.

“Not in same way. I was never stuck in his head.”

“It’s—I—Link, it was very hard being trapped with him.” She admitted softly, refusing to look at either him or the baby, “I saw things that I—” She swallowed and stayed silent.

“Zel,” He took one of her hands in his, and spoke quietly, “Skyward bound, adrift in time, or something-something embers of Twilight—”

“—that’s not how it starts,” Zelda snorted, she couldn’t help herself, and he winked, glad she had fallen for it, “eh, I may have forgotten a line or two, but the point is, I’ll be right here with you.”

She smiled, placing her other hand over his, and he had to fight back a flare of ear-warming affection.

“I know,” She assured him, “thank you.”

The baby squealed and gurgled over Link’s shoulder, finding for the first time, the joy of making spit bubbles, and they both jumped at the noise. It broke the odd, depressing atmosphere they had found themselves in, and the two of them shared a startled look. With a smile, Link pulled the little Gerudo prince out of his carrier. He was adorable, there was no doubt about that. Large, golden eyes, lined with the thickest red lashes Zelda had ever seen batted up at her. His cheeks were rosy, chubby, and round, and a sprout of soft red hair was curling down his forehead.  

Zelda wiggled a finger in front of the infant cautiously, and it caught his attention instantly. With a toothless giggle, the baby latched onto her hand, and Zelda frowned.

“Just because you’re cute right now, doesn’t mean I forgive you,” She sniffed, “but as a show of good faith, I will allow you to be in my acquaintance.” She leaned forward, their noses almost touching, which also interested the baby as he made grabs at her face, holding her nose and patting her cheeks, “Be warned, child, I’m watching you like a hawk. Your age is no excuse, your lessons start now.”

“And!” She leaned back up, “We’re not calling him Ganon!”  

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Poseidon

Fishy fishy fishy… I honestly could write 100 more things for Poseidon MC and Levi. I just love the dynamic between an insecure, otaku shut-in and a chill California surfer dead set on becoming his friend.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon 

For anyone unaware, Poseidon is also the god of horses. I know it's a weird combo, but I didn't write the mythos.

Lucifer

…..

They came out of the portal….

On a horse….

They brought the mortal down to the Devildom…

On a goddamn horse….

There's a demigod on a live horse brandishing a weapon and doing laps around the Student Council Room…

Congratulations, he already wants to pull his hair out!!

Honestly, it would have been preferable to pluck them out of the sea. At least then they'd just need a towel! What the hell were they going to do with an entire horse!?

And his nightmare didn't stop there. Poseidon is a notoriously mercurial god, prone to bouts of anger and spitefulness for reasons far less grievous than kidnapping his children… 

Their apology was swift and (seemingly) effective, though the tide waters around the Devildom did rise by several feet for some time…

As for the MC… uh… Well, they're an energetic one to say the least…

Lucifer hasn't met a more active individual since Mammon. They horseback ride, swim, surf, skateboard, and probably do ten other things - the point is, they Hardly. Keep. Still! 

They're also annoyingly easygoing… He can't count the number of times they've told him to, "Just chill out," or, "Hang loose…" What does that even mean??

Between having to order a stable made for their horse and just trying to keep up with them, Lucifer already thinks this mortal has caused him more trouble than they're worth… At least they keep Mammon busy...

Mammon

Upon first meeting them atop their horse, Sunset, his first thought was of course:

"I wonder if I sell that...?"

After that, they nearly fed him to sharks for trying to take their beloved steed on same night. Safe to say, he never touched a hair on its head again…

These two had a rocky start, but their relationship mended fairly quickly. As it turns out, the MC is literally one of those "go with the flow" types. You can say it was water under the bridge soon enough.

Mammon actually thinks the MC is a hell of a lot of fun, even if they're super laid-back. Most of the time, they won’t take his drive for money (or fear of his bills) all that seriously and tell him that he’s worrying too much, but they’ll still lend a hand if its on their way.

He finds their ability to control water pretty cool as well. Levi has it to some extent, but the MC can make a whole-ass whirlpool or use water like a whip! 

He once begged them to call up some rare fish for him to sell, but they got all pseudo-philosophical on him about how “trading life for material wealth” is “not cool, dude...”

He also made the mistake of challenging them to a splash fight only once…. They managed to drench the whole family with a single wave….

The only thing that bothers him is their weird insistence on being Levi's "Best Buddy…" Why would someone like them even bother with a shut in??

Is it the water? … Probably water. Levi, that lucky bastard…

Leviathan 

Thinks they're a big normie, no scratch that, a HUGE normie! The biggest normie he's ever met!! They skateboard and horseback ride for Devil's sake!!

...But they’re also, undoubtedly, the best friend he could've ever asked for.

To be fair to Levi, their friendship was sort of forced upon him. The MC took one look at him, his aquatic-themed room, and his pet goldfish then declared their new friendship status at that moment. 

Unfortunately for him, though, they're energetic, extroverted, and generally have little understanding of personal space… aka, an introvert's worst nightmare…

The next month could accurately be described as the MC doing everything in their power to make their stubborn "senpai" like them.

They would drag him out to the aquarium, beach, or pool; they befriended Henry so he could put in a good word for them; and they'd even bring him little gifts or trinkets they'd find on the ocean floor. Pretty shells and stuff like a cat bringing its master a dead mouse.

After he finally began to accept them as a persistent fixture in his life, he introduced them to gaming and anime and started accepting them little by little...

By the end of their stay, these two were practically inseparable. Not just because they like spending time together, but because they figured out they could have a telepathic link due to Levi being part sea serpent. 

No matter how far they are, they can always have a chat! (That no one else can hear so people think they’re just crazy...)

Satan

Satan honestly isn't the MC's biggest fan, he generally finds them too loud and gregarious for his liking. But their horse…?

He never really thought that he'd be a horse man... Yet it didn’t really take long for Satan to adore Sunset, their beautiful golden-maned mare. Apparently she's not their only horse, but by far their favorite traveling companion.

Sunset is a wonderful horse - brave, strong, and well-trained. It only took a few weeks before he was regularly sneaking out to the stables to brush her fur or feed her apples...

After the MC taught him how to ride, that was it. All other forms of transportation were inferior to him now.

Satan would ride Sunset everywhere and he looked damn good doing it! It takes all that fairytale Prince Charming thing he has going on and puts it through the roof.

It's a good thing too, because when I say everywhere, I do mean everywhere. Lucifer had to put seals on the House doors to keep Satan from riding Sunset through the hallways...

Of course, he’ll always let the MC have Sunset back when they need her!... with a little complaining but nothing terrible.

The MC doesn't mind much because Sunset likes him and they know he takes good care of her, but the rest of the House is slightly unnerved at how quickly he went horse crazy… What if they brought a giant crab instead?? No one wants to deal with crab-Satan...

Asmodeus 

Their body is just scrumptious. Oh, how he could look at their swimsuit-clad figure all day!! 😩

Between the swimming and the fighting, their form is toned to all hell and he can't get enough of it! Yes baby, yes!! Take those clothes off again!!! He'll help~! 😘

When he's not staring at them “totally respectfully,” then he's inviting them out to pool parties or begging them to take him riding...

There are parts of horseback riding he doesn’t like, the smell and the jostling specifically, but there is a kind of… romance to it, no?

He loves having the chance to snuggle up to the MC as they trot around the Devildom! It's so romantic, like they’re his knight in shining armor! (Or his demigod in a damp swimsuit, either works. 😏)

His Devilgram is just full of selfies of him and MC riding on the back of Sunset or sitting by the edge of the pool or them in the middle of a swim meet…

Yeah his Devilgram is now a one part him and one part MC-Appreciation account.

After the pact he'll eventually cool down some and stop staring at them like a sex-object, but even then he'll be at every swim meet. Don't you worry~

Beelzebub 

He actually really likes them! It's great to finally have another athlete in the House. 😊

The MC joined the RAD swim team just as soon the coach was able to convince Diavolo that having the child of a water god wasn't completely cheating... 

Since swim and fangol practice ends at about the same time, they walk home together a lot and complain about... sports things... (Forgive me, I don’t know sports. Uhm... Rival teams? Coaches? That one drill everyone hates? Stuff like that.)

Beel also can surf, skate, and snowboard so the two have a healthy competition going. They're about on equal footing so they tie often (except in surfing but Beel doesn't think that should count cause they’re probably cheating).

The only thing that he has to watch out for is Sunset… As in, he has to watch himself around Sunset because he absolutely could eat her on accident… 

Look, he doesn't want to and he doesn't even like horse meat that much, but even he has to admit there are times he gets hungry enough to consider it…

Of course, he knows that if he ever did Satan would rip him limb from limb then the MC would drown the rest so he really, really tries to control himself… but still… She’s a very healthy horse...

At least he didn’t try to sell her like Mammon. The MC hung him over a shark tank for that stunt… He’d feel bad, but Mammon kind of had it coming.

Belphegor 

The first time they met, the MC smelled like beach water and called him "dude-bro…" He didn't like his prospects.

For a while, he genuinely thought that they had a lump of sand where their brain was. They were just too chill!! Here he was saying that he's being held captive and they were like, "Well that sucks, man… I'll help ya, but I've got practice tomorrow. You can wait, right?"

It's not like he expected them to jump on top of it, but some urgency would have been nice…

When they eventually got around to helping him, he was actually looking forward to choking the life out of them for the extra wait. Unfortunately, they apparently had a horse…

Yeah, Belphie found out just a bit too late that the MC could summon their steed to them whenever they wanted and ended up with Sunset's hooves firmly bucking into his back for his trouble…

What followed was Belphegor running circles around the attic from the weapon-totting MC riding their terrifying murder horse until Lucifer finally intervened....

Thank the gods he wasn’t near any water….

As it would turn out later, as long as he's not being held captive in an attic Belphie kind of vibes with their laid-backness… They say they approach life "one wave at a time" or something.

He could care less about what that actually means, but what it translates to is "Stop stressing out and just keep chill" which he's all about.

Everybody should just chill out!... dude…. Nah, he'll let them stick to the “dude”-thing, it feels weird...

[killjoysfromyesterday]

day six of @badthingshappenbingo !

prompt: starvation

word count: 1,260

⚠️please use caution of your own triggers before reading prompts on the board.

—————

jet's used to being hungry, but he doesn't know how much longer he can keep this up.

he's trying to keep his hands warm by shoving them in his pockets, but the desert temperatures plummet with the sunlight and it's so cold he can't think of anything besides getting warm and maybe getting food.

it's pretty dark; he could snatch something from the market without getting caught, but the idea's unlikely since how cold it's gotten would definitely have the market venders packing up for the night.

he's no stranger to the likeness of going to bed hungry, it's something he's used to by now. from his futile attempts to keep track of time, he thinks he'd be nine years old now. that means two years had passed since his parents were killed. it didn't feel like it, with every time he tried to sleep would end in him being disturbed by nightmares.

he knows it's not good, but he lets himself fantasize for a second; he's back at the compound, curled up in his mother's lap by the bonfire. his father is twirling his little sister like a ballerina. they're all happy. jet's got a full belly and a safe place to sleep.

what pulls him out of his daydream is the chill, whistling through the joshua trees and making him shiver. his clothes are dirt-stained and either too small or too big, and their holes provide absolutely no protection from the bitter desert wind.

when he peers out from the alley, there's only one shop with its lights still on. there's no one inside from the looks of it, and he thanks the witch that he won’t have to interact with anyone. he can't remember the last time somebody talked to him besides market vendors telling him to get lost with the other stray dogs.

the bell that rings when tentatively he pushes open the door makes him about jump out of his skin, but his stomach grumbles and there's more stuff for sale than he's ever seen in his life. bread that looked surprisingly fresh, canned soups, nothing that has to be refrigerated because not even the mayors of the neutral towns had working refrigerators in the desert.

jet trots down the aisle with eyes full of wonder, before he remembers he's supposed to get in and out of here fast. he greedily shoves an apple into his coat. he should grab more, but he doesn't want to risk getting caught. he’ll come back later, he thinks.

he's about to make for the door, but something catches his eye; behind the counter, there's a shelf of cigarette cartons. the pickings are slim; nearly every adult (and teen) smoke in the desert, but one of the labels catches his eye.

it's got gold lining on the front and the logo of a little horse jockey, and jet never learned how to read but the logo rings loud and clear in his brain.

his father's sitting on the front steps of their little makeshift shack, using a match to light his cigarettes. jet watches as the smoke disappears into the night air, tucked into his father's side. the smell of his leather jacket is musty and smells like home, and he thinks he can hear his mother calling them for dinner.

he hardly has time to blink away the tears that are threatening to make their way down his dirt-tracked face before there's a rustling of cans being knocked over and a large shadow bares down on him.

"scram! get outta here!"

and then he's scrambling as fast as he can, dropping what he's thieved, narrowly avoiding the blows of a broomstick to the head. he looks back to try and gauge what the broomstick-wielder looks like, and smacks face forward into a pair of legs.

"woah, take it easy." whoever owns the pair of legs says, and jet's little heart is thumping so fast in his chest he's pretty sure it might just stop all together.

jet's shaking like some pathetic street dog and when he looks up, the guy meets his eyes. he's got long black hair and aviator sunglasses on, bandana wrapped around his head. he's wearing a leather biker jacket covered in patches, and his voice is somewhat hoarse when he talks.

the one holding the broomstick is an angry looking guy with a mustache, peering down at jet like he's the scum of the earth. jet doesn't know which to look at, and he feels a little frightened on the ground.

"tommy. he's a kid, he's hungry. look at him. skin and bones." the man says, pointing to jet for emphasis, and jet's face flushes red.

"he's a little thief, doc." the one who was chasing him replies, prodding jet with the end of his broomstick like some curiosity. jet scrambles back so far his back hits the wall.

"he's not a thief if i pay for it." and then the man he bumped into is pulling something from his pocket, opening a wallet and shaking out a few carbons. he slaps them into the other man's hand, ignoring the disapproving look he's sporting.

"here ya go." he says, and the man puts down his broomstick and raises his eyebrows for a moment before gesturing towards jet.

jet doesn't need to be told twice, but he's still timid as a mouse when he retrieves the apple he'd dropped.

"that's all you want, kid?" no, he thinks. but he remembers how his mother used to always teach him not to overstay his welcome, and he doesn't want to push this stranger's kindness when carbons are already so hard to come by. so he politely shakes his head, and tries to ignore the pang in his ribs.

"doc, you gotta stop feeding the strays." the man says, putting away his broom.

"if i don't, who will?" doc asks, voice a bit firm, and tommy takes a step back.

"not you, tommy. you have a nice night." doc continues, dismissing him. he looks at jet and his features soften a bit.

"c'mon, kid." doc says, holding the door open as jet timidly steps back out into the cold. jet is about to turn and run back to his little alleyway, but he's glued to his spot and he's not sure he could make it across the street without collapsing from either hunger or exhaustion.

"you can eat now. nobody's gonna take it from 'ya, promise." doc smiles, leaning against the wall and pulling out a carton of cigarettes. jet tentatively takes a bite of the apple, not realizing he'd been squeezing it in his hands until now. little crescent mark indents had formed from his nails.

"you were hungry, huh kid?" doc asks, and jet nods fervently, now chewing so fast his face is starting to hurt. doc chuckles and lights up a cigarette.

there's comfortable silence of doc smoking and jet stuffing his face for a little while. he knows he should be saving it, that he doesn't know when he's going to get food next, but he can't bring himself to stash the rest of the apple away, so he eats it until all that remains is the core and a couple seeds.

"you ready to introduce yourself?" doc asks once he notices jet's done eating. jet freezes a bit.

"i'll go first. my name's dante, but most people just call me doc. what's your name, kid?"

"jet."

"it's nice to meet'cha, jet."

and for once, he feels like he isn't so alone in the world.

——————

[valkyrieofsmut]

Kurt’s Mail Order Bride 2

Cowboy!Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) x Mutant!OC

Descriptions:   Old westAU In about 1900 Germany, Kurt has heard stories about the wild west and dreamt about being a cowboy for a long time. When he’s brought over to America and sent to live with Logan he’s excited, until he learns what hard work a ranch actually is. Logan knows a woman will set him straight from his shenanigans, and brings one back. Kurt hopes for love, but they can’t seem to get along.

A/n- Hey! These are coming out pretty quick, so there’s no time to make a note, but I am doing something special for my 2,000 followers mark! (click to read about and participate!)

Masterlist

Story!

Logan pulled his horse up to the post next to the general store and wrapped the reins around it. 

He made his way in and looked around, taking stock of the people there. They gave him a twice over as well, wondering who he was. 

Logan took a jar of honey, some things he didn’t see around his town much and a few apples and made his way to the counter. 

“Howdy,” the man greeted him. 

“Evenin’,” he greeted back. 

“That’ll be five,” the man told him. 

Logan pulled out the money and tossed it on the counter, asking, “you have any strange girls of marrying age around here?” 

The man froze. “How do you mean?” 

“I’m looking for a companion for a young man, his tastes are more towards unique women,” Logan brushed off.

 “Oh. I don’t know of any women like that around here,” the man answered. 

“Oh, dear, what about the Baron girl?” The man’s wife asked, appearing from nowhere. 

“Barren?” Logan asked, wondering why they’d think he’d want a woman that couldn’t bear children.

 “Baron, Bethilde Baron,” the woman nodded her head. “She lives outside of town, in fact, she has to be looking for other accommodations; her father died this last month, she’s had to sell everything. Poor dear…” 

“Well, if you’re looking for strange, you’d find it there,” the man agreed. 

Logan grunted in thanks. “Better get another jar of honey, then,” he said, and the wife scurried to get one while the man took his money. 

Logan packed the things in his saddlebags and turned toward where the couple had said he’d find the girl. 

.

When he got there, he found an empty cattle pen and a lone chestnut and white horse tied to a post without a saddle. 

Logan stopped, taking a breath and shaking the thought of the last few girls, the one who had been a prostitute, one who had been a maid with seven children, one who had been brain dead, he was sure, and one who had been so normal he wondered why he had been told she was strange. 

He shook his shoulder and took a jar of honey from the saddle bag before walking to the door and knocking. 

“What do you want?” A voice demanded from inside. 

“Ah, looking for a Bethilde Baron,” he answered. 

The door opened and he saw a young woman with silver eyes and sun bleached hair somewhere between red and light brown, maybe a year or two younger than Kurt, wearing a displeased expression. 

“What else do they want me to give up now?” 

“Huh?” Logan asked. 

“They made me give up the cattle, all the horses but mine, the wagon, the property, what else could they possibly want?” She demanded. 

“Don’t know who they are, I just came to meet you. I’m from three towns over,” he told her. 

She looked him up and down looking at the jar of honey he held on to. “What’s that for?” 

“I’m looking for a woman to help out with a younger man.” 

The look of shock and disgust that filled her face startled Logan. 

“It’s nothing like that,” he quickly assured her. “He’s in need of a woman to- guess it would be easier to say I need a lady of the house to set him straight and make him quit acting out.”

 “I’m not ready to be a mother,” she told him, taken aback. “Try someone with kids already.” 

“He’s not a child, he’s about your age,” he told her. 

She folded her arms and looked him over again. “And what do I get?” 

“They making you leave this house?” 

She nodded. 

“You’d get a roof over your head, food, and company.” 

“And what do I have to do?” She asked. 

“Like I said; be the woman of the house, run the household. There’s just me and him there now, I live on a cattle ranch- am I right to think you had a hand helping out around here?” 

She nodded again. 

“So nothing you haven’t been doing your whole life, ‘spose,” he told her. 

She tilted her head as though she was thinking it over. 

“Why they making you leave if you’ve helped raise the herd here?” 

“Because women can’t raise cattle or control a ranch, don’t you know? It’s not proper,” she said a little rudely, denoting how she felt about the people who told her that. 

Logan grunted in distaste. 

She took the jar of honey and looked at it. “You can call me Beth,” she told him. “Guess it’ll be a fast getting ready, as I’m already packed.” 

“One more thing,” he paused. 

“What’s that?” She asked. 

“You heard of… People who are different?” 

“Different how?” She asked, narrowing her silver eyes. 

“Strange… Strong in different ways.” 

“Why do you ask?” She asked, sounding a little suspicious.

 Logan figured that he would take the girl back anyway if Kurt had looked normal, but he didn’t want her to go screaming into town and blow their cover. 

“I know a kid who’s blue,” he told her. 

“Blue?” She asked, tilting her head. There was no fear in her eyes, just slight curiosity. 

Logan nodded. “You know anyone like that?” 

“Not blue,” she told him. “But…” She looked around outside before holding her hand back and letting it go forward, her fingers opening wide, and Logan felt a bump from an invisible force. “That…” 

Though Logan had an unaffected look outside, he was pleased inside. “Let’s get your stuff hitched up.” 

.

Three weeks had passed since Logan had left, and Kurt had nearly run out of food, or, he was getting bored of it, anyway. 

He wanted to eat something good, not dried jerky and cheese with milk coffee. 

He was laying on the roof watching the stars as they started to show when he heard a wagon coming down the road. 

He looked out and saw Logan coming down the road towards him with another horseman, presumably the woman he’d gone to get, but he couldn’t see her yet. He wondered where the wagon noise was coming from until they got closer and saw that the woman had a small buggy type wagon hitched to her horse carrying her things. He looked her over, seeing her pulled up hair, thinking that it looked awfully tight up. 

The two pulled their horses next to the house and Logan emptied the buggy, leaving the things by the house before they started off to the stable. 

Kurt watched as the woman unhitched the horse and pulled off the saddle, then started brushing her horse out with the brush Logan handed her. 

Her skirt swayed and he could see the boots peeking out from the hem. Her shirt was fully covering, buttoned up against the wind they’d passed through on the way. 

Kurt watched in surprise as she went into the house, picking up the two smaller bags on the way as Logan picked up the large trunk. 

Kurt waited for a few minutes before going down and peeking around the door. 

Logan was putting the things from his saddlebags on the counter and Kurt saw honey and a few treats that he had either never tried or hadn’t had in a long time. 

Kurt looked behind the door and around the room again. “Where is the woman?” He asked. 

“Went to bed,” Logan answered. 

“Oh- wait, where?” Kurt asked, knowing that there were only two bedrooms. 

“Back there,” Logan nodded toward the room that Kurt had been staying in. 

“But- wait, that’s where I was sleeping!” 

“She’s a lady, she needs her own room.” 

“What about yours?” 

“It’s my house,” Logan told him. “I’m not giving up my room.” 

“Where will I sleep?” Kurt asked. 

“There’s a couch right there,” Logan gestured to the couch in front of the fireplace. 

Kurt grumbled and sat on the couch for a minute before he went back outside and up to the roof. 

. 

The sun shone down on the roof where Kurt sat as he watched the woman walk back to the house from the barn with a pail of milk. She went in and he wondered what she did with it. 

He watched as she went around the open house and cooked. Kurt wasn’t very fond of her, after having taken his room and now just moving through the house as if she belonged there faster than he had. 

He could tell that she was about his age, but that didn’t automatically mean that they would or should get together, plus there was still the first meeting with her stares, shock, and disgust to go through. 

He was not looking forward to that. 

She seemed to be buttoned up, her hair up tight again and her clothes buttoned up her neck and nearly touching the ground. He went back up to the roof, thinking that he didn’t like her. 

He had been excited to have a girl around, sure, but not one that was so buttoned up that he could practically see the buttons up her face, and definitely not one that was supposed to train him how to act, like a creature at the circus. 

Kurt decided to stay away, refusing to see her. 

Delicious smells of fresh baked bread and meat filled the air, and Kurt looked down to see the woman come out and look around before going into the house and bringing out two pans she smacked together to make a loud clanging. 

After a few minutes, Logan walked to the house and headed in. 

Kurt could hear the conversation through the open door and listened, his stomach starting to growl at the smell wafting out. 

“Where is he; Mr. Wagner?” 

“Probably out sulking,” Logan answered. 

“He must be hungry, I didn’t see him this morning for breakfast either.” 

“Let him go hungry while he sulks. Hasn’t done any chores to earn lunch anyway,” Logan instructed her. 

Kurt’s expression turned sour at that and he strengthened his resolve to stay away and how much he disliked the woman. 

“I’m headed into town,” a voice from below brought Kurt from his reverie, and he looked down, wondering how she had found out where he was. “Do you need feed or anything?” She asked, now obviously to Logan. 

“Nah, I’m heading in tomorrow.” 

“Alright, I’ll be off, then.” 

Kurt watched as the woman went and saddled and hitched up her horse to the small buggy before heading out. He watched her down the road for a while, able to see farther from his vantage point. 

“Why you waiting so long to meet her?” Logan asked. 

Kurt was startled and looked down. “I’m not, I just don’t feel like it. She is too…” Kurt couldn’t think of a word for what he meant. 

Logan grunted and started away, but turned back. “You better meet her when she gets back. Right now, she’s a better ranch hand than you; not much reward for keeping you around.” 

Kurt grumbled angrily as he watched Logan walk away. 

.

Beth looked around at the food in the store, bringing her things to the front. 

“You look like you’re filling a whole pantry,” the man at the counter stated. 

“Mostly,” she answered. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” he commented. 

“Oh, no,” she answered. “My father passed and I’m here staying with a friend of the family for a while.” She figured that it was real enough and common enough that no one would ask questions. 

She kept her eyes averted as she handed him the money, and he called a young man to come load her cart for her. She smiled and ducked her head in thanks before turning to leave. 

“Howdy,” the boy said to her. 

“Hello,” she greeted. 

“I heard you’re staying around for a while?” He asked. 

“Yes,” she answered. 

“Sorry to hear about your pa, must be hard.” 

“Yes,” she answered in a whisper. 

“My name is Jeremy,” he offered. 

“Beth,” she told him. 

“Will I see you around?” He asked, and she nodded, giving her thanks and walking down to the five and dime. 

She looked around, seeing different shades of ribbon, fancy things, treats, clothing, and finally, a small rack that had a couple of books on it. 

Ever since they had made it less expensive and easier to run a printing press, they had been starting to print books to distribute widely, and Beth was happy, having found quite a few things she liked to read, thanks to her father. 

She found a book and took it to the counter, getting a few pieces of penny candy as well. She paid for her things, the interaction from the general store repeated as they all tried to figure out who she was. She was glad that she had gone to the barber first and taken a bath, because now she was tired of people staring at her, and stinking like travel while they did it would have been worse. 

She climbed onto her horse and turned back to Logan’s ranch, careful not to let the buggy bounce too much and break the jars of fruit preserves and canned vegetables. 

When she got back, she unloaded the buggy and put the things away before taking her horse to the stable and taking care of him before letting him out into the paddock. 

She wiped her forehead and looked up at the sun, deciding that it wasn‘t quite time to milk the cow again, and turned to walk into the house. 

It was a little dark with the sun coming through the window and making shadows, and as she walked to the couch, a face was suddenly in front of her, and it took her a second to realize that it was upside down, which was why there was only a face with no body. 

“Hallo, Fräulein,” the voice greeted darkly. 

“Hello,” she answered, careful to not let her eyes widen in surprise at the sudden appearance. 

Kurt looked into the woman’s eyes and found himself startled; they were silver, and while his were not at all a normal color, he’d never seen silver eyes before. 

They stayed there for a moment, then Beth stepped to the side, turned and sat on the couch. 

Kurt looked down at her in irritation. “Aren’t you afraid?” He asked. 

“Why would I be?” She asked. 

“So you are blind?” 

“No,” she answered, looking over at him in question. 

“Then, why aren’t you afraid?” He asked. 

“You’re just a man,” she said, looking away. “I trust you aren’t planning anything unsavory…” 

He let go of the beam he was holding on to with his tail and dropped to the floor, landing nimbly on his feet. “I’m not a beast,” he told her scathingly. 

She nodded. 

Kurt stood and stared at her for a few minutes, his tail flicking back and forth behind him. 

“I must go milk the cow,” she told him, standing. 

He watched her walk out, going to the window to watch her walk to the barn, a confused look on his face. 

Beth got to the barn and paused inside the door, letting out a breath. 

His German accent still rang in her ears, making her breath light and her cheeks red, and while she wasn’t quite sure about his blue skin, there was something strangely attractive about it… His eyes had been golden, and she was sure that they had been slightly glowing in the semi darkness, but showing how displeased he seemed to be with her. 

She took another breath and let it out, going to the cow and greeting her before sitting on the stool and starting to milk her. 

Beth shook her head. He already didn’t like her, and she was thinking- no, she wouldn’t entertain any thoughts about how attractive he might be in the full light- he didn’t like her, and that meant that if she liked him, she was only doomed to heartbreak. 

She strengthened that thought and went back to her chore. 

Kurt paced inside the house. 

She hadn’t looked disgusted, or shocked, or anything… 

She couldn’t be the only person in existence to not be affected by his appearance. 

Logan must have told her what he looked like- that had to be the answer. 

Kurt teleported to the stables and found Logan mucking them. 

“Why did you tell her not to act afraid when she saw me?” He demanded, but Logan didn’t answer. “It doesn’t make me feel better,” Kurt told him quietly. 

“I didn’t tell her anything about you. Just that you needed some straightening out.” 

Kurt turned away, disgruntled. “But you told her what I looked like so she could be prepared…” 

Logan stood straight and turned to him. “I didn’t tell her anything. Nothing. Whatever she did or didn’t do, she did on her own. Now, get to shoveling shit, or get out of the way.” 

Kurt walked away, starting to be stealthy as he got to the barn. He could hear her in there, humming. 

He realized that she hadn’t even told him her name! He let out a snort of disgust. How high and mighty was she that she didn’t even think that she should tell him her name? 

He teleported to the roof and looked down at her from above as she went through a few chores and went back to the house with the pail of milk. 

He laid around for a while, waiting until the sun started going down and hearing the pans clang together that meant mealtime before coming down. 

He walked through the door, daring the woman to say something as she looked over at him and back to the counter. 

“What would you like to drink?” She asked him. He didn’t answer, so she said, “We have milk, coffee, and water.” 

Logan walked through the door, dripping water from washing up. 

“Coffee,” Logan said as he sat down. 

“Just a moment,” she answered, putting the coffee into the pot of boiling water and stirring. 

Kurt sat, but didn’t say anything. 

She set a plate with roast, mashed potatoes, gravy and green beans down in front of both of them, followed by a plate with the rest of the loaf of bread from that morning, and a small bowl of butter. Kurt looked at the food and up at her as she turned back to the stove, noticing that she hadn’t served herself. 

She turned back and set Logan’s coffee on the table and turned to Kurt. 

“And for you?” 

Kurt looked into her eyes as she watched him, finally turning away, unable to understand why she was the only one in history who had been able to look at him for so long with no negative emotions coming to her face. 

“Water,” he told her, and she turned away. 

A cup of water was placed in front of him, and he glanced at her to see her finally sitting with a plate of food and a drink. 

“Would you like a slice of bread, Mr. Wagner?” She asked. 

Kurt’s brow cinched tight. Why was she calling him so formally? 

“Ja,” he answered, watching her cut a thick slice and hand it to him before pushing the bowl of butter closer. 

After dinner Logan was braiding rope in the chair by the couch in front of the fireplace and Beth was washing dishes outside. 

Kurt looked up at Logan. “Why is she still working?” 

Logan looked up from his rope. “There’s not a lot of rest on a farm or ranch. Things have to get done, and ain’t nobody but you gonna do ‘em.” 

Kurt thought about that as he pulled out his worn book and started reading it again. 

When Beth had hung the last pot back on the wall and sat down on the couch by Kurt, she pulled her new book to her and started reading it. 

Soon the other two left Kurt alone, laying on the couch to sleep. It wasn’t very comfortable, and he thought that the floor would probably be better, but he stayed there. 

[all-sortsa-stuff]

A new start, part 8

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2697

Warning: Smutish stuff

 Part 1  part 2  part 3 part 4  part 5  part 6 part 7  

 The dream had been wonderful.  You were swinging on the tire swing out back of your parents’ house.  The sun was warming your face as you looked up towards the sky.  It was a beautiful day and the world was right.  A brief tickle of the grass grazed your foot as you continued to swing. You felt like you could do this forever. Another tickle passed over your other foot this time lingering longer.  After a moment it switched back to the opposite foot.  This drew you from the dream and slowly back to the reality of the soft bed.  There was another tickle on your foot but this time you giggled quietly as you stretched out.  A warm hand wrapped around your ankle.  Light fingers started to trail up your leg.  “Is there a reason I am awake now when I could still be asleep?”

Chris laughed as he crawled up next to you.  He kissed your cheeks, then forehead, nose, then finally your lips.  “I figured we could get some late breakfast then head out. That and I wanted to kiss you.”  

“Mmmm well I don’t mind that so much.”  Laughing you pulled him close and kissing him long.  Initially you did it to tease him, but now it was having the same effect on you. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, you found that he was shirtless.  Damn man and his beautiful body.  Your hands moved down his muscular back.  Chris inhaled quickly as he was not expecting that response.  His lips moved down your neck kissing and sucking lightly.  “Ahhh.”

He smiled against your neck as his hand skimmed over your hip and up your side.  His lips returned to capture yours as his thumb teased the side of your breast.  Your hands moved down over his ass giving both cheeks a good squeeze, causing him to pull back and laugh.  “Getting a good feel?”

“Oh yes.  I’ve wanted to see how firm they were.”

“Is that so?  What do you think now?”

“They are nice.” Chris grinned down at you.

“Just nice?  Damn I better do more squats.  Captain America needs an ass that is better than ‘nice.’”

You giggled as you stole another kiss before crawling out from under him.  “Your ass is amazing.  All the Captain America fans are going to swoon as soon as you flash it on screen in that suit.”  

Chris groaned as he tried to pull you back down into bed.  “Come on, we have plenty of time before we have to be anywhere.  I was having fun.”

You made sure to stay just outside of his reach as you looked for your clothes for the day.  “Oh no handsome.  You said breakfast and I’m hungry.”

  After a big breakfast of pancakes and bacon, as he promised, the two of you set off on the highway for Tennessee.  You had told Chris before about your love of country music but he was given a front row seat to you singing along to the radio as you drove.  He leaned back against the car window as he watched you sing “Bottoms Up” by Brantley Gilbert, there was a wide smile on his face.  The way you let loose and were yourself in front of him, it made him care for you even more.  There you sat without a bit of makeup, your hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, singing at the top of your lungs without a care.  It was only a matter of time before he would have to tell you how he was completely under your spell.

The rest of the car ride passed with many more smiles and laughs.  You both getting to know the other more than before.  Stories told and jokes shared.  By the time you pulled up to the house, it was growing dark.  It did not take much time for you to unload the car of your belongings and bring them all in the house.  Chris was looking through the fridge for something to drink when he heard someone open the sliding door behind him.  “[Y/N] you around?  Damn. Sorry you are definitely not [Y/N].  You must be the boyfriend.”

Chris turned to see Jake standing there.  You came around the corner spotting your brother standing just inside the door. “Jeez Jake I have been home like five minutes.  Barging in already?  Jake this is Chris, Chris this is my nosey ass brother Jake.”  

Jake walked over, both men shook hands.  “Just wanted to know if you wanted to see the horse, since I was over here feeding them. Didn’t know you were bringing someone. If I had I would have waited.  I wouldn’t want to find y’all all naked and such.”

Rolling your eyes you pushed your brother’s shoulder.  “You are such a pain.  Some of us can actually control ourselves.”

“Maybe, but at least I’m not a prude.”  You groaned slapping him this time.  Chris laughed watching the interaction between you and Jake.  “You want to see her or not?  I want to get home sometime tonight.”

“Yes I want to see her. Just stop trying to embarrass me.” Jake smirked at you as he walked back out the sliding door.  You slipped your hand in Chris’s, following your brother to the barn.  

“Mom doesn’t know you brought anyone with you, does she?”  Shaking your head, you tried to look innocent.  “Didn’t think so.  She would have told the whole town if you had.”

“Why do you think I didn’t tell her?”  

The new horse was stalled next to the other two horses.  She was a beautiful midnight black with a small white spot on her forehead.  Coming right to the door when she heard the voices, she stuck her head over the stall door to see.  You were in love instantly.  Letting her smell your hand first, you did not want to spook her.  Once she seemed satisfied, she bumped your hand as though she were looking for something.  “You spoil her already that she is looking for a treat?”

“I didn’t spoil her any more than I do the other two.”  Boots and Talladega neighed in the background when they heard your voice.  Both coming over for their treats as well.  Chris walked over to Boots mirroring what you had done with the new one, letting her sniff his hand.  Boots bumped his hand wanting what she thought she deserved. He pet her nose lightly smiling.

“Well aren’t you a pretty thing.”  She responded with another, harder, bump.  Both you and Jake laughed.

“There’s a reason her name is ‘Bossy Boots’.  She tells you what she wants and won’t do anything she don’t want to.”  Jake nudged Boots before walking over to pull three apples out of the bucket across from the stalls.

You turned your attention back to the new horse.  “She have a name?”  Jake shook his head as he fed Talladega.

“Nope.  Figured you would want to find something that fit her. Though I am kinda partial to Appleblossom.  Found her when I was going past the orchards off Mason Road.”  As you looked at her, you thought it fit.  Pretty name for a pretty girl.

“Alright then, Appleblossom it is.  Apple for short.”  The next hour you all cleaned up the barn and the stalls.  Chris jumped right in, offering to help.  With the three of you it took far less time than it usually did.  Jake went home for the night, promising not to tell your mother about Chris.  It left the two of you alone for the night.  You made an easy dinner and showed Chris to the guest room.  Throughout the day, you had been thinking about allowing him to sleep in the bed with you but it felt like it would cause too much pressure to have sex.  In the end, you knew it would happen when it happened and that Chris would wait until you were ready.  It just made it difficult at first to fall asleep, especially thinking about this morning.

 With it being your first day home, you wanted to sleep in.  The movie was done and there were no time constraints.  Just spending time with Chris and eventually have him meet the rest of your family.  You were lazily still in bed staring up at the ceiling as you were sprawled out under the covers.  Nothing like coming home to your bed after months away.  Chris had been up for a little bit; you had heard him walking down the hall then down the stairs a little bit ago.  The smell of coffee started to creep into the room in an attempt to pry you from your bed.

He was sat at the kitchen island with a cup as he read one of the newspapers that was there. Clothed in nothing more than a pair of gym shorts, your mother found him as she came over to welcome you home.  “Baby girl you up… Oh goodness gracious.  That girl did not tell me she brought you home with her.  She deserves a good paddle for that one.”

Chris nearly spit out his coffee as he laughed.  “Umm sorry ma’am.  I… well [Y/N] is upstairs... still sleeping…”

“I can one reason why she likes you.  Good manners. I like that too.  But it’s good to meet you in person now.  I’m Gini [Y/L/N].”  He shook her hand trying to wipe the coffee that had made its way to his chin.

“Chris Evans, ma’am.”

“Welcome Chris.  Glad you came with her.  Her daddy and I wanted to meet you.  Though make sure he don’t see you like this.”  He had forgotten that he was shirtless, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of red.

“It’s not… we aren’t…” Gini held up a hand to stop him.

“I don’t mind as long as y’all are being safe and using something.  I want grandbabies someday but after they are married.  Don’t be like Eli and me.  My Jake was born eight months after our wedding.”  She smirked knowingly.  Your brain had not fully woken up by the time you made it downstairs. So the complete shock of seeing your mother talking to your shirtless boyfriend took a moment to process.

“Mom?!  What are you doing here?”  The smile on your mom’s face and the pink on Chris’s cheeks was not a good sign.

“Morning baby girl. Just talking to Chris.  Telling him to make sure y’all are being safe in bed.” If you could have shriveled into nothingness, you would have welcomed it.

“Sweet baby Jesus, mother. I swear to God that if you scare him off…”

“I’m not going to scare him off.  Isn’t that right Chris?”  He looked more mortified than you did.

“Umm I think I am going to go put a shirt on.”  Scooting past you with a kiss on your cheek he all but ran upstairs.

“Mother…”

“Oh [Y/N/N] he is something to look at that is for sure.  Definitely some beautiful babies.”

“Mom we haven’t slept together yet.”  She looked over at you, as though you had grown an extra head over night.

“Why the sam hell not? You can’t tell me you don’t feel something for him.  Because that is just obvious.”  You groaned rubbing your face.  There was no way you were going to make it through this conversation without coffee.

“I’m trying to take my time. Look what happened last time I rushed things.”

“That is completely different.  This boy ain’t nothin’ like David.”  Even your mother could see how different this was, even from the little time meeting Chris.

“I know mom.  I just want it to be right.”

“Fine.  But that boy is… well I can see why they picked him for Captain America.”  She winked at you as she started walking towards the door.  “Anyway, dinner tonight girl.  ‘Round six and bring a pie.  Daddy has been itching for one.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  Chris came back down as you were sipping at your coffee mug.

“Is it safe?”  You laughed because he had no idea what was in store for dinner that night.

  The morning and afternoon consisted of you showing Chris around your land.  You introduced him to the goats and went for a walk by the pond. By five-thirty, you were finished getting ready before you pulled the peanut butter pie you had made out of the fridge.  Chris was quiet as you walked hand in hand to your parents out.  “You okay?”  He looked over with a brief smile.

“I’m just hoping your dad likes me.”  Squeezing his hand gently, you kissed his cheek.

“My dad is going to like you.  Don’t worry. He is really laid back.  Just don’t talk football with him.”  He laughed as you bumped his hip.

Your father was seated out on the porch as you walked up.  “Heya daddy.”

“Evening sugar.  Mom told me you were bringing a friend. Figured I’d wait out here so she doesn’t meddle.”  He held his hand out to Chris as you climbed the stairs.

“Eli [Y/L/N].  Nice to meet you.”

“Chris Evans sir.  Very glad to meet you.  [Y/N] has told me all about you.”  

“I’m sure my girl has. Oh pie… you just made my night.”  Eli took the pie from Chris before walking quickly in the house.  “Gotta put it in the fridge make sure it don’t melt before I get to it.”

Chris seemed to relax a bit as you followed into the house.  Jake was already there setting the table as your mother told him to.  Thankfully, your mother behaved herself through dinner. She asked about Chris’s family and home life.  Jake saved him after a little while asking your mother about when the county fair was coming and if she was making preserves for it this year.  That had her on a tangent for a good thirty minutes. Enough to have dinner finish up and the table cleared.  Your mother smiled bigger than you had ever seen when Chris helped you clean up then wash the dishes.  That was a good sign.

Not long after your father asked Chris to join him outside on the porch for a talk.  There was a flash of fear in Chris’s eyes but you gave him an encouraging smile.  At least with your father there was little risk of him embarrassing you.  When they were out on the porch alone, your father took a seat in his chair and looked over the pond.  “Does my girl know you love her?”  He obviously did not beat around the bush.  Chris was not expecting that question.

“Uh no sir.  I haven’t told her yet.”  Eli gave him that lazy smile.

“You do love her though. I was watching you.  You light up anytime she is in the room.  That’s the way it should be.  I’m still like that with Gini.  That woman is my world.  Though, God knows she pushes my buttons at times.  I still love her more every day.  [Y/N] is a strong woman.  She deserves a good and strong man.  She doesn’t need savin’.  Just needs someone who will let her shine.  ‘Cause my girl shines whether she tries to or not.  Takes a strong man to be able to do that.”  Chris grinned as he looked down at his clasped hands.

“Yes sir she does.  I’m just happy she lets me stay around.  I don’t feel like I’m good enough for her.”

“I ain’t gonna lie. No one is good enough for my baby girl. But I like you.  She walked up tonight smiling all bright.  You made that happen.  So if it happens that you end up part of this family I won’t be upset. Come on now, let’s get some of that pie before that greedy son of mine tries and eats it all.  It’s good stuff.”

They shook hands once more as they walked into the house.  Just looking at the relief on Chris’s face, you knew it went well.  It was good to know Chris had won over everyone in your family just as he had you.  Not that there was any doubt.

Part 9

@feelmyroarrrr  @bolontiku  @aquabrie   @malindacath  @thegirlwithnodragontattoo @magellan-88 @thedoctorsnerdgirl  @waywardswain @tacohead13  @beckyboo1188  @pegasusdragontiger   @our-chaoticwhispers @smoothdogsgirl  @kitty11223   @sf0206 @debzybrazy @theresnotenoughwords @smurfielovesyouu  @castellandiangelo

[tuestika]

Headcanons of: Tracer, Mercy and McCree comforting their s/o who have lost member of family

Headcanons for decaffeinated-orange, I hope you'll feel better and lots of power for you! I hope you like this post! ♡ Please tell me if you want me to change/take this post off. ^^

Check her/his blog, and please support them! http://decaffeinated-orange.tumblr.com/ Headcanons of: Tracer, Mercy and McCree comforting their s/o who have lost member of family. Genderneutral s/o Type: fluff, hurt/comfort Warnings: mentions of family member death

Tracer:

-When you told her about your loss, she closes you into tight embrace, burying your face to nape of her neck/against her shoulder. She's usually more or less noisy, but now, she's quiet. She feels so bad and she's very worried when you are this sad/stressed.

-She makes you sit on couch, she makes you cocoa (with lots of whipped cream, marshallows and little chocolate chips, it makes mess but she doesn't care, anything for you) wraps you and herself inside of blanket. She wants you to feel that you are not alone.

-If you feel like crying, she's there right beside you. She won't pressure to you to talk, she will be there for you if you feel like just crying or/and cuddling.

-At nights she will lay your head on her shoulder, combing her fingers tenderly through your hair/stroke your head, will hum some old english lullaby if you have trouble with sleeping. Will also make some chamomile tea for you if you want.

-Tries to help you with your and your family's chores and give you some time to breathe.

-Asks help from Mercy and Zenyatta so she could help you to manage through this rough time.

-Wants to take you to city and do some shopping, to arcade and maybe to do some fun sport with you to take your thoughts to somewhere else so you can release your stress.

-Feeds to you some fish and chips to you. Does that 'here comes the aeroplane!" thing to you. Smiling to you with love and endearment shining in her eyes.

-Cuddles available almost 24 h, anywhere, anytime.

-When you cry, gives you tender pecks on everywhere on your face.

-Does everything she cans for you; you want some  shop exclusive candy? Cavalry’s on and off to mission for her lovely love! There's some book/movie you have wanted for ages? You will have gift on your nightstand in next morning! You want coffee at 3 a.m? Coffee is brewing with some snack.

-If someone tries to pry too much to your business, you may find yourself being dragged away by Lena.

-She wants to make her lover happy; their smile is like sunrise to them, and she's willing to fight and stand on your side through the night and light.

Mercy:

-She noticed that something was up before you started to tell to her with voice cracking about your heavy loss.

-When she had heard the news, she closed you into gentle but firm embrace, burying your face into crook of her neck, stroking and combing her hand through your hair and/or rubbing your back with soft and slow touch.

-If she was doing reports, they lie now abandoned on the table. Her lover needs her, and she wants to be there on your side when you need her.

-Because she's doctor, she have seen lots of deaths and had to be calm through them despite the pain. But now when you are so distressed of tragedy, she finds herself struggling and feels her heart tighten painfully when she sees and hears your pained and grieving tears, sobs and cries...it breaks her heart as her lover suffers.She remembers very well how painful loss of someone dear feels.

-Will make you lay down on sofa your head on her lap, stroking your head and cradling you against her, you can bury your head against her and cry.

-When you and her lay on bed, she presses your head gently to her chest, and strokes your hair/head. If you don't want to face her when laying down, she spoons you. Will read to you if you can't sleep or/and will talk about her day, will also make you some tea.

-Becomes instantly even more attentive towards your health and keeps eye on you, she tries to get you to sleep, eat and not strain yourself too much.

-She becomes also very protective of you; she may tell to other Overwatch members to not strain you too much and may sometimes shoo others away if someone pries too much to your business. If you start feeling unwell, she may go to walk with you. She may also take you somewhere peaceful for tea and snack.

-Tries to help you and your family as she can.

-Will be there for you if you feel like crying, cuddles you you gently and pets your nape, whispering gentle words in germany language

-Will listen if you feel like talking about your loss

-Expect being feed with really good Swiss chocolate. If it smears your face, expect kisses to spots where is chocolate.

-Makes you to take relaxing bubble bath with her, and she talks to you some funny things what have happened in her years of Overwatch.

-Imagine you and her cuddling after nice bath in bed.

-Will also ask Zenyatta to help, if you want.

McCree:

-McCree hurried where you are so fast as he can when he heard that you seemed very upset.

-He run through the door, and heard sobs and hiccup, and he directed where you are. You we're sitting on couch, head on your hands. Your voice sounded absolutely heartbroken. He felt his heart tighten and break at sametime.

-He knelt before you and put his arm on your shoulder. You gazed to him, and he saw deep agony and grief in your eyes.

-He went into slight panic mode his brains we're progressing the options, were you hurt? Did someone hurt you? Did something happen? His protectiviness kicks in.

-He sits next to you, wrapping other arm around your waist and other wiped gently your tears and stroked your wet cheek.

-"Darlin' is everything alright? Did someone hurt you?" his grip on your waist tightened slightly at last question.

-You lowered your gaze, and you told with cracking voice what had happened.

-His eyes widened, and he pulled you to his lap, kissed your rolling tears, cheek and closing you tight and warm cuddle-embrace. He cradles you against him, rocking you gently to back and forth.

-After sometime, he rises from couch, picking you up with him in prorgress. He carries you to your bed, placing you to your bed very carefully. He climbs to bed next to you and pulls you back into his embrace. He strokes your hair and rubs your back in comforting manner, whispering words of comfort, letting you to know with his words, presence and gentle and warm touch that he is there with you.

-He makes you to wear his serape, and places his next to you as he rises from bed. He kisses your forehead softly. "Wait here sweetheart, I'll come back to you in moment." And leaves from bedroom.

-When he comes back (and that took only couple of minutes) he carries in his hand steaming mug of cocoa. The cocoa haves ridiculously big whipped cream-hat, he tried to draw with chocolate sauce some hearts on it. And marshallows.

-He gives you your drink and cuddles you in his arms, rubs your lower back gently and with soft and tender voice fulled with love and seriousity, he kisses your forehead and resting his forehead against yours tells you that he will be there for you, you are not alone, and we will make through this together. He seals these promises with with kiss and "I love you". -He takes his promise of helping and being there for you and making it through together VERY seriously. He will focus on you and your needs even more than before. You feel sadness breaking through? He will be there hugging you and supporting you, whispering words of comfort to your ear. You feel thirsty? "Water for my heartcatcher!". Hungry? On your way for some nice tacos. Feeling very stressed/tired, he is there to cuddle you, giving perhaps massage. He wants to do everything that he can and support you through the hard times and see your smile someday (he wont rush you, he knows how hard it's when person loses someone dear and close), like lovers and partners do. You are his partner in crime. <3

-Will take you to ride on horse and do some sightseeing, he thinks it may help you to feel if you get some fresh air. And he tells stories about his Blackwatch days. Will also tell you some of his embarrasing happenings about that time, just to see your smile, laugh or just to make you feel better. Will also take you to see sunsetting. (Be warned: when watching that sunsetting, Cavities-causing powers  of cheesiness will more or less ensue there.)

-If you are feeling uncomfortable somewhere where is people, he will place your hat and/or serape around you. And he wraps his arm around your shoulder. If you want to leave the place, he excuses you both off. -He understands to leave you alone for time of your own, will come to check you, and will bring snack to you. (And kiss to forehead).

-Gets even more protective of you when you feel down, if he sees that someone is treating you bad/not leaving you alone/being too prying, the aura (and sometimes glint of deadeye) of approaching cowboy man is sometimes enough to send them away/give you some space). Other way he will just ask his friends to not push you or strain you too much.

-His apple pies he is good baking...they are so delicious, they make the sorrow easier to deal when your stomach haves that heart and tearmelting goodness. -Will help your family as much he can, he wants you and your family to have time to breathe and relax.

-Asks help/advice Zenyatta for relaxing/coping with sorrow and Mercy for keeping you healthy.

[sergeantbabyface]

Little ol “can’t handle alcohol” me, I guess, opted to staying up all night last night and instead of drinking and watching memes like last time we partook in a hearty game of “Let’s dick around with DnD until we die of exhaustion.” And played a 7 hour game. But let me tell you about our fucking party.

We have Hendrixx Deathseeker, practically our only truly driven character out of all four of us. He’s a dwarf with ptsd after having his entire family killed before his eyes, and he, without fail, fucking decks anybody who so much as spooks him a little. He’s 3 foot tall and weighs 60 lbs and his alignment is neutral good.

We have Anlith Airfeur, our scholar and “the tall one.” He’s a half wood elf and used to play in a travelling band until he chose to split off and look for fortune on his own. He’s our bard- and the brain of the party. He’s 9'4" tall and weighs- I shit you not, it was a random throw-in, 160 lbs. Everyone is the game pretends this means he’s fucking 16 feet tall, it becomes comical. He fucking hates the dwarves. Fucking hates them. He’s neutral evil and his weapon is a Viol named “the beast”, which becomes haunted by the Spirit of a goblin. This is my character.

We have fucking Harvoth. Fucking Harvoth. He’s another 3 foot tall 60 lbs gnome, but he’s our wizard. He’s supposed to be like the religion head of our group, at Lawful good, but quickly it changes to chaotic evil. He’s the one in our group who blurts out the most fucking violent things in the wrong times. We make constant jokes about how Anlith is carrying Harvoth around in a baby vest so he doesn’t fuck with shit.

And finally we have Frith. Frith is a female human about regular height and weight and she prays to the fucking demonic spirit of her father every night. No one knows her alignment. No one knows her back story. She’s the weakest of the entire group and her statistics are all awful. We spent a lot of time just making sure this sketchy ass girl wasn’t gonna die. We know shit all about her and probably would have left her if she was an npc.

Okay so like I said were just dicking around while our DM is trying to get this to be a serious game but eventually goes along with us. Telling you these probably isn’t the most entertaining but I think some people enjoy hearing about dumb shit that happens at DnD. I’ll explain anything I think needs context to be funny. These are all in order of events taking place, and keep in mind DND is only funny when you remember the character detail..

We begin our journey by meeting up at a local tavern in search for jobs. DM asks us to briefly describe what we do that morning. Three of us have usual shit. Frith apparently takes a massive shit. She rolls to see if she has a prolapsed anus. Off to a good start.

We take to the road on a horse drawn wagon. Everyone sits comfortably except Anlith, whom the DM feels the need to inform everyone, is sitting at the back with his feet hanging over the edge and dragging on the ground as we go- because he doesn’t fit.

We just got ambushed by goblins in the forest. We killed nearly all of them, but another bloodied goblin with several friendly fire arrow wounds enters our caravan while we make our escape. (Fucking Harvoth started leaving without us and Hendrixx and Anlith had to roll a hundred times to barely get Frith onto the caravan.) DM: do you want to interrogate him? He’s gravely injured. Hendrixx: I stomp his neck. *rolls strength 20* DM:.. ok… he explodes right there.

Anlith: can we vote for democracy????“

We set up camp for the night and bury our dead npc party members. Inluding a rotting corpse we forgot about in the caravan. Keep in mind our party still has not introduced themselves properly yet. Hendrixx: let’s have Harvoth pray for them. He’s religious and Lawful good. Anlith: Lawful good fucking left us behind with the goblins and immediately burnt our party members bodies in the fire without question.

relating to the last point- Anlith: I don’t trust this midget!!!

we’ve been stormed by more goblins. There’s one left. Anlith: I run up and touch him with inflict wounds. *rolls 20* DM:… ok… you see cuts form all over his body, his eyes begins to bleed furiously and blood pours from all of his orifices. He explodes. The party: fucking Jesus Christ. DM: and you see a ball of light transfer from where he was standing to The Beast, and the Beast glows for a minute and goes away.

Hendrixx: can I feed the horse an apple? He’s probs hungry. DM: roll perception. *rolls perception 12* DM: ok so it looks like you’re in a grove so there are no fucking apples.

Anlith and Hendrixx both had the first ideas about covering their wagon tracks with dirt. DM: so, you guys are bonding over dirt pouring now.”

We set up camp in a fucking sketchy ass forest. Everyone has already gone to sleep but Harvoth and Frith. (Anlith is spooning Hendrixx on top of a pile of dirt in the caravan, practically encircling his whole body by his sheer height compared to the dwarf.) DM: Harvoth turns to Frith and whispers “you’re first watch,” ominously smirks, and goes to sleep. You guys wake up and no one took over night watch for fucking Frith.

so we ended up entering a recently desolate village with an unknown number of goblins hanging around the ruins and rummaging for gold. We came across a very young, adorable half goblin dubbed Gum-Gum. We trust him and he becomes part of our party- until he is killed by Harvoth in a ‘freak accident’. Harvoth cuts off his fucking head and attaches it to his belt. We continue on.

Frith: GUM GUM!!! RESURRECTION SPELL!! Hendrixx: did you say erection spell???

DM: okay so Anlith fucking sprints out of the room upon seeing more monsters but he’s so tall he fucking hits his head on the door frame and is rendered unconscious. Hendrixx: I choose to carry him along with us. I’m the strongest. DM: okay so I guess the fucking 60lb dwarf is gonna carry 9 foot tall Anlith around now because he’s got a concussion and the fucking dwarf is the only one remotely strong enough to do it.

irl the person playing Harvoth is having constant, loud ass stomach rumbles every fucking minute and it’s getting out of hand

We meet a strange girl with mysterious powers and are given the choice to trust her or not. We are discussing the possibilities. DM: okay so we know this girl can just manifest weapons from her tattoos at any moment. Harvoth:… we cut her skin off. Team: FUCKING NO HARVOTH

DM: Anlith, you finally wake up and The Beast has mysteriously disappeared from your inventory. Anlith: ok…. well I guess Anlith begins to unconsolably sob and bawl for an extended amount of time over the loss of his most prized possession- but also casts sacred flame to bind the goblin. DM: your binds work well and ‘Pip’ the goblin is immobile.

DM: you guys realize that Pip the goblin is Gum-Gums older sibling. He is sobbing uncontrollably. Harvoth: I take Gum-Gums head off my belt, shove my hand up his throat, and use his head as a puppet and say 'Look Pip! It’s okay! Gum gum is alive!’ DM: …. Pips arms break free from Anlith’s binds as they become weak from his crying and Pip sits his throat open and falls to the ground dead. Hendrixx: ….fuck, Harvoth.

BONUS: DM: there’s a 20ft wall with a closed, locked gate in front of you. The leader of this village lives in the keep behind it. What do you do? Anlith: I roll to investigate the wall. *rolls investigate 2* DM: k so Anlith knocks loudly on the gate, says “They’re coming!!!”, slips on a rock and falls onto the cliff just a few feet behind the party. He is holding on by one hand. Hendrixx: I help him up. *rolls strength 24* DM:… OK WELL you effortlessly grab Anlith’s hand and fucking launch him off the cliff, into the air, and over the 20ft fence where falls on the ground behind it with a thud. Anlith: am I fucking knocked out again?? DM: nah. You’re g. Frith: I roll perception on the wall. *rolls 18* DM: you notice a massive hole in the wall a couple feet away from the gate, large enough for everybody in your party to pass through unnoticed.

[loft-creative]

MAUD Muller, on a summer's day, Raked the meadow sweet with hay.   Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Of simple beauty and rustic health.   Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee         5 The mock-bird echoed from his tree.   But when she glanced to the far-off town, White from its hill-slope looking down,   The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast,—  10   A wish that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known.   The Judge rode slowly down the lane, Smoothing his horse's chestnut mane.   He drew his bridle in the shade  15 Of the apple-trees to greet the maid,   And ask a draught from the spring that flowed Through the meadow across the road.   She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up, And filled for him her small tin cup,  20   And blushed as she gave it, looking down On her feet so bare, and her tattered gown.   "Thanks!" said the Judge; "a sweeter draught From a fairer hand was never quaffed."   He spoke of the grass and flowers and trees,  25 Of the singing birds and the humming bees;   Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether The cloud in the west would bring foul weather.   And Maud forgot her brier-torn gown And her graceful ankles bare and brown;  30   And listened, while a pleased surprise Looked from her long-lashed hazel eyes.   At last, like one who for delay Seeks a vain excuse, he rode away.   Maud Muller looked and sighed: "Ah me!  35 That I the Judge's bride might be!   "He would dress me up in silks so fine, And praise and toast me at his wine.   "My father should wear a broadcloth coat; My brother should sail a painted boat.  40   "I'd dress my mother so grand and gay, And the baby should have a new toy each day.   "And I'd feed the hungry and clothe the poor, And all should bless me who left our door."   The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill,  45 And saw Maud Muller standing still.   "A form more fair, a face more sweet, Ne'er hath it been my lot to meet.   "And her modest answer and graceful air Show her wise and good as she is fair.  50   "Would she were mine, and I to-day, Like her, a harvester of hay:   "No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs, Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues,   "But low of cattle and song of birds,  55 And health and quiet and loving words."   But he thought of his sisters proud and cold, And his mother vain of her rank and gold.   So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on, And Maud was left in the field alone.  60   But the lawyers smiled that afternoon, When he hummed in court an old love-tune;   And the young girl mused beside the well, Till the rain on the unraked clover fell.   He wedded a wife of richest dower,  65 Who lived for fashion, as he for power.   Yet oft, in his marble hearth's bright glow, He watched a picture come and go;   And sweet Maud Muller's hazel eyes Looked out in their innocent surprise.  70   Oft, when the wine in his glass was red, He longed for the wayside well instead;   And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms To dream of meadows and clover-blooms.   And the proud man sighed, with a secret pain,  75 "Ah, that I were free again!   "Free as when I rode that day, Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay."   She wedded a man unlearned and poor, And many children played round her door.  80   But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain, Left their traces on heart and brain.   And oft, when the summer sun shone hot On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot,   And she heard the little spring brook fall  85 Over the roadside, through the wall,   In the shade of the apple-tree again She saw a rider draw his rein.   And, gazing down with timid grace, She felt his pleased eyes read her face.  90   Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls Stretched away into stately halls;   The weary wheel to a spinet turned, The tallow candle an astral burned,   And for him who sat by the chimney lug,  95 Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug,   A manly form at her side she saw, And joy was duty and love was law.   Then she took up her burden of life again, Saying only, "It might have been." 100   Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, For rich repiner and household drudge!   God pity them both! and pity us all, Who vainly the dreams of youth recall.   For of all sad words of tongue or pen, 105 The saddest are these: "It might have been!"   Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies Deeply buried from human eyes;   And, in the hereafter, angels may Roll the stone from its grave away! 110

Maud Muller - John Greenleaf Whittier