#off-topic but I used to have that carrot at home

[ruershrimo]

like it’s the old love. | part 1.3 | "from flashbacks to department store plushes"

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features albedo and the lnhs student groupchat again (aye!!)

warnings: there's a tiny bit of swearing, I guess? + the usual warnings too (fem! reader and some ships like ganqing and xingyun) but other than that I don't think there's anything else here

notes: don't really have much to say this time, but hey, thank you for reading if you intend to read this chapter/have been reading this series! please feel free to laugh at me if anything here is unrealistic or cringey lmao. also, are they called plushies or plushes? please help if you know

summary: albedo, the man that you are. the groupchat finds out. hey! it’s christmas! and it’s all the better since it’s with him.

Truth be told, there was a time when you were less self-denigrating; less keen to criticise yourself and eventually give up. Years before you had realised all that you knew now, you’d spend your days learning what you wanted, from singing, to dancing, to writing— all with no regard of what this would tell of your future. 

Then you grew older, and grew more aware of the praise that was attached to everyone else you knew: all of them except you. Throughout your 11 or so years of school you were known solely as your brother’s sister; at home your parents would continuously fawn over and praise him. Even after he’d upped and left for a busy life at university, he was still your parents’ greatest joy and your school’s greatest pride: while you were stuck continuing a fool’s errand, constantly bending over backwards— just so you could have a chance at being successful, at being loved, just so you could make them happy— only to be overshadowed by and unnoticed in the face of stirling students like Keqing or Xingqiu. (What was the difference between you and them? Every day you worked and worked, only to be treated like you were invisible. There was no one you could talk to, no one to confide in Liyue: only your parents who’d told you to suck it up, that it was a normal part of life, or your friends who’d get bored of you.) 

Ah, self-pity. You’d normally chide yourself for this, or bite your lip for how pathetic you were. Years of being told that you were lucky and good and so much better than you thought, really dear, so there’s no point in comparing— has led to you staring wide-eyed at the ceiling while Albedo has drifted off to sleep right next to you. 

In the tenebrosity of the night, he looked beautiful, face illuminated by the moon as you pondered over just how unlucky you were. “People who take pity for themselves don’t succeed,” your father scolded you once. Over the years that memory remained fresh in your mind. All it had been was a disappointing test score, yet you couldn’t forgive yourself for it: your friends wouldn’t have made the same mistakes, and you were sure as hell that your brother wouldn’t have done so either. “If you really think that crying in a corner will help you any, then perhaps my daughter isn’t as smart as I thought,” he’d said, thoroughly annoyed with what he’d shut out as your incessant whining, and getting back into his work. That was all it was with your parents, work and your older brother Zhongli. And maybe a few words of comfort for you, if they could spare the time. But mostly work and Zhongli. 

You were never bad at anything, nor were you even mediocre or just average— in the way that your mother had put it, you “were a smart, good little girl. The people around you were just better, that was all!” So if you were surrounded by people inferior to you, you thought, would you have been the one fawned over and praised? 

No. Because there was always someone better, even if you weren’t at home or in school. You could never be the best. 

Then you spent more time with Albedo. Albedo whose talents were derived from terms you’d hitherto never heard before, Albedo who avoided topics like alchemy or the future as much as he could manage. Albedo who knew that you worked hard, that you weren’t some rogue, out-of-line soul who needed to be put back in her place. It made you feel worse, sometimes, as you wondered whether he was doing this on accident or out of pure pity, when he needed to realise that you didn’t want to abstain from such topics in the first place, didn’t want his pity to comfort you as it cut you into shreds. 

—

Winters and winter breaks are for silent contemplation, and a bit of fun when that gets too boring for you. It’s considering the future and your choices from here on out despite your loathing for such a notion. 

School was always tiring, from having to socialise as your heart only ached more and more with every person you met, to having to finish loads of assignments and past-year papers in preparation for your exams. Leaving it felt like a burden had been lifted off your back, only for you to wait until any sort of weight would land in lieu of it. This winter, since you’d graduated, you told yourself you’d do the exact opposite instead of fretting over school or your future or— literally anything. That this would be the start of you concluding your gap year with an undeniable bang, while spending your time alone or with the one friend you could never get tired of. While being free. 

So why are you texting your old friends again? 

You ball the fabric of your blanket into a fist again, your other hand holding the phone as you curl into yourself. 

There’s the series of the softest knocks ever on the door. “Are you still awake? May I come in?” a voice asks. 

“Sure,” you call out. 

“So you are awake,” Albedo says, turning the lights on and closing the door behind him. 

“Yeah.” 

“Were you on your phone? It was pitch-dark in here, [name], you’ve to take care of your eyes.” 

“Uh-huh. But I’m okay— if it ever gets too bad I’ll just get glasses or go for a lasik surgery. So it doesn’t matter to me,” you smile, holding up a thumbs-up. 

He sighs, voice worn by fatigue (even if it was only 10:30, but Albedo was the type to sleep early whenever he wasn’t occupied with any kind of school work anyway).  “It matters to me. Remember when you said you’d discuss the terms today?” 

“Oh…” you trail off, recalling what you’d said the night before just to keep yourself calm. With how well you’d known each other, you wouldn’t need them, no? If you or he would have gone against what the other wanted, the other would stop with no further questions asked or any other requests made. “Actually, we don’t need to have terms in the first place. We can just… wing it, I think.” 

“Alright, then.” He sits beside you on the bed as you uncurl yourself from your position. “But tell me when you want them. Were you talking to someone just now?” 

“Yeah, actually— remember the groupchat I told you about from school a few years back?” 

He jokes, “The one where you had feelings for everybody in it?” 

“Hey!” you swat lightly at his arm, chuckling, “And for the record, it was only Keqing. All of the ones on the rest lasted for less than a week. Anyway, I was texting them.” 

In the past, even if you were to daydream of love and relationships with any new distraction you could find to keep you entertained, you’d usually leave your feelings in the dust so as to not be disappointed— the only person you’d done so for knowing what was in store for you was Keqing. You knew it would hurt. Yet you still did it, still fell deeper and deeper, as if your feelings for her were a drug you’d constantly resorted to no matter how much worse they made you feel. But it’s getting lighter now, those feelings from before. It’s getting easier to just look back at them and laugh instead of keeping your lips sealed tight as if loving was a sin. It’s getting easier with Albedo. 

“Can I talk to you about something?” you had asked him once, two years before you had graduated; a month after you had spoken to Keqing. You lay on his bed, all sprawled out like unfurled yarn, as he examined his textbook once more. 

“Of course,” Albedo said, peeking up from the cave of his books. “Are you alright?” 

“Hm?” 

You wondered what he was thinking— maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t see your face so you may have been crying, or whatnot. 

As if he were hauling himself out, he got up from his seat and walked over to you, slightly worn, before sitting himself back down right next to you. You sat up. “What is it?” he questioned, placing his hand on yours: a promise of comfort, that he would be there and to you that would be enough. “Tell me everything.” 

Then like a waterfall you everything gushed out of you: the painful pining you’d pushed yourself through for Keqing, and everything in between, from Childe to that one time when Ganyu smiled at you in the hallway and you were almost frozen in your tracks before you returned back to normal the day after, from the time when Keqing assured you that you would be alright, that she was “your friend who loved you”, to how much that made you ache inside, how much it had you wanting to clench at your chest and squeeze your heart. 

“It’s so ridiculous, I’m so ridiculous—” you rambled, “I shouldn’t be crying. Why am I crying? Why did it make me feel so… so sad, so hurt— for such a long time? It’s like I’m being affected by everything these days.” 

He only continued to rub at your back with his arm and hand as you cried and cried into his shoulder, clutching to his clothes. 

“What’s wrong with me, seriously…? It’s like everyone else is fine, but here I am, scared of everything. I don’t even know what I want to do when I’m older. What if I’m just supposed to be lonely for my whole life? What if I don’t have anything or anyone?” A part of you desired him to say that he’d always be with you. Perhaps he couldn’t tell, or perhaps he was deliberately refraining from it so as to not hurt you if he would not be telling you the complete truth. And a part of you thought that with how things had gone with everybody else, if either were true then at least he wouldn’t be the first. “How do I resign myself to that, Albedo?” 

“It’s alright,” he said, and for all his eloquence when it came to lending his academic advice to others or his abilities to teach you whatever you needed to learn, he merely repeated, “You’ll be alright.” And that was all. Afterwards, he asked if you’d been watching or been wanting to watch any new movies or TV shows or if you’d been reading or re-reading any books lately. By the time the clock struck 12:00 that night you’d forgotten of the tears you had shed as you binged through an eclectic range of films, from Bande à Part— just for that one running scene in the Louvre that you’d heard about— to When Harry Met Sally, and you’d practically passed out once the two of you had finished reading the last few chapters of Percy Jackson and The Olympians: The Last Olympian together (and that was when you learned that he stopped reading the series five years before even getting through The Titans’ Curse!). 

And for a while everything was alright. At school you eschewed anything new that you wouldn’t be good at immediately— because even if that was normal, normal wasn’t enough. As long as your brother existed, as long as students like Keqing existed, normal was not enough. To have praise was to be a prodigy, and to begin was to be a failure. You repudiated anything you’d been doing before just because it was never enough. And perhaps that part of your head pushing your drive to always quit if you were not the best at something— that part that stated you would rather have your walls lined up with medals than participation certificates so you would rather not have anything at all if it meant trying and then failing— perhaps that part of your head wasn’t good. But how could you think with a brain that was good if you’d been trying so hard to be so as a student, yet each time you’d failed miserably at it? 

So it was peaceful, calm. Perhaps it seemed like cowardice. But to you, if you could be a shadow on the stage rather than an unfit actress, things would be fine. If you could disconnect yourself from everything, nothing— from crushes to exam scores to school competitions— you’d be fine. It’s not like anybody would scold you, anyway. They didn’t even care enough to praise you in the past. So for two years you ran away from everything, from writing to singing to painting to drawing to— 

—

“[name]? Love?” 

…the nickname still makes you flustered, but hey, baby steps. 

“Huh?” 

“You must have spaced out,” Albedo says, not an ounce of concern missing from his voice. “You really should go to sleep.” 

“It’s only 10:30,” you pout. 

“It’s 10:35.” 

“That’s still early.” 

“Not today, it isn’t,” he argues lightly, bringing his legs up to the bed while his hands eagerly reach for the blanket, “May I?” 

You remember hearing yourself reply with a drowsy and drawn “okay”, or at least a quick affirmative, but you’re not entirely sure of it due to the fact that you drifted

off to sleep the next second. 

—

In the blue of the early morning, you wake up to him sleeping right behind you, the bolster setting the two of you apart. It’s a tad bit hard for the two of you to squeeze together on the bed you have— what with all the pillows he must have placed under your head or nestled in between your arms while you were asleep— but while sleeping the two of you made it work, it seems. He’s completely unexposed, left sleeping without a blanket in the cold frigid winter air. The heater didn’t even help any: he seemed to be shivering. It takes each bit of your strength to get up from the cosy warmth of your blankets but you do so anyway to drape the blankets over his torso before swaddling yourself back into your makeshift cocoon of blankets and your sweater, your other hand balling parts of the bedsheet fabric for support. 

As the serene dark blue of the morning illuminates his face, your gaze stays fixated on him, at the curve of his face and the slope of his jawline and the curve of his nose, his eyelids drooping drowsily. Whoever he chooses in life (if he were to choose one at all) would be extremely fortunate, being able to set their eyes on him before starting the day. 

You hope he’ll be happy with whoever that is. 

“Good morning,” he drawls, “The sun isn’t fully out yet. It’s still so early.” 

“That’s what happens when you ask me to sleep at 10:30. If I sleep early, I wake up early, too. But I thought that you’d be up pretty early, too— you always are,” you remark, your index finger tapping on his nose. 

“I stayed up for a while before you slept— I wanted to ask if I could sleep here, but didn’t want to wake you up…” 

“So you fell asleep here by accident?” you chuckle.

There’s a soft sound he makes at that, burrowing his head in the blankets, eyes still shut and full of rest. For a while you debate with yourself over whether you should stroke his hair or brush your palm over his face, as if you were exploring it and reading it silently like a pair of eyes on the word’s of a novel. Ultimately, you think you didn’t really have a choice— a part of you was already urging the rest of your body to synchronise each part into knowing his. Maybe it was the fact that this was the one time you’d told yourself not to hold back— that was part of the reason this whole “arrangement” came up anyway: you saying “screw it” and choosing to just go forward, like sprinting across train tracks as all the trains speed and near towards you. If he woke up, or if anything happened to your arrangement, you’d burn that bridge when you got to it. 

So as if under a spell you comb your fingers through his hair and brush the back of your hand against his cheeks, against the soft, frozen skin on them as cautiously and gently as you can, careful not to wake him while he heads back into slumber. 

“I love you,” you mumble. You can’t even hear your own voice as you say it. 

—

The rest of the week goes smoothly, if not for Alice raising a brow when you leave the room for breakfast that morning with Albedo in tow behind you. That Sunday, the three of them— Albedo, Klee and Alice— start prepping for Christmas. As you’d thought the last year and the year before, if not for Albedo, the house would have all but burned down to rubble during Christmastime, because seriously, god help him, Alice has already tried to replace the star on the already-old-and-about-to-destruct Christmas tree with a wax candle this year, and this time she’d done it earlier than the last. 

Which brings you to one of the nearest department stores as you and Albedo scramble through a list of Christmas essentials from Alice. A part of you feels like you’re either an errand girl, or that she’s trying to set the two of you up. It would have been really funny if you’d told her right then and there, having already tested the waters enough (in your opinion, at least). It’s crawling with people inside, some of them no doubt coming there only for the warmth greeting them as if the cold gets shaken off their bodies like dirt getting wiped off a “Welcome” mat. You were just happy to be able to free your frigid hands from your pockets without having to blow on them constantly even if you were bundled cosily in a mix of both his and your jackets in his car before the two of you had gotten off the car in the parking lot. 

“Alright,” you start, eyes on your phone while Albedo pushes the shopping cart along. 

“Cocoa powder… wait, don’t we already have cocoa powder?” 

“We could always use extra.” 

“Okay then, anyway… Christmas tree…” 

He steers the cart in the direction of the holiday items’ section as you remain glued to your phone. To guide you along he wraps his arms around your back, almost, both of his hands adjacent to yours on the cart’s handle as his breath fans against your ear. Your cheeks feel hot and you’re not sure if it’s because of him or you (well, even if it were you, it would still be his fault for doing so, and he in all his smugness will pretend not to notice either way). Still, it should be normal, what with the two of you being comfortable with blowing on each others’ fingers or being in each others’ embrace for god knows how long. 

“Would that work?” he asks, pointing at one of them. 

You peek up. “I think so, yeah! Alright, next we have cocoa powder… don’t we already have enough?” 

“Perhaps she supposed we could do with extra?” 

“Then should we get marshmallows, too? I knew someone who liked to melt her marshmallows in hot drinks last time.” 

Again he nearly laces his arms around your waist before his hands land next to yours. 

“Okay, then we have… what? …why?” you whisper, squinting your eyes in disbelief. 

“The red and white envelopes or the laminating machine?” 

“Both.” 

“Earlier in the year she said that she wanted to do something special for Christmas, so she concluded that it was absolutely necessary for us to do things like secret santa or that we randomly exchange letters with each other,” he clarifies. “We can get either one, though.” 

Classic Alice. You don’t usually spend that much time in department stores— your all-too-busy parents often tried to be done with things as quick as they could so that they could head back into the swamp of their work, and hence your parents would always prioritise efficiency and expediency when it came to practically everything. And though your brother wasn’t always the same, he was always quite busy. The last time you’d gone out with all of your immediate family— just Zhongli and your parents— to a mall was more than three years prior. So since you’re with her best friend, who also happens to have become your boyfriend for a while, and since you feel as if the cold will bite at your skin like a python consuming its prey, you tell him, “No, we can go for both. If you’re fine with it.” 

“Of course. When would I not be fine if it was you?” 

The line sounds oddly romantic, but also like something Albedo would have said before, too. Maybe you just never noticed how romantic the subtext behind his words were— well, that doesn’t change anything. Generally, what people perceive to be romantic or unromantic varies across the board. Right? 

So the two of you stroll the distances to each of their sections, amassing thousands of steps in the process. His hands remain beside both of yours. 

“Anything you want to get next?” he asks, “We’re in a department store, after all. And it looks like there’s lots to buy, really.” 

“Not really,” you reply as the two of you begin to walk out, the automatic doors sliding open in front of you. Unlike the rest of the place, the space near the exit isn’t really occupied save for people coming in or going out. The policeman there nods at you and you bow back. Until there’s a woman with the most beautiful face you'd ever seen, holding a plush in her arms as her 4 year old seemed to be jumping with an itch to wreak havoc over almost everything and anything she could get on her birthday. And by god if it isn’t the cutest thing you’d ever seen (the plush, you mean): the largeness of the carrots’ eyes, how animated it looks with disproportionate legs (its legs took about an eighth of the size of the rest of its body), and it’s coloured in the softest orange you could possibly think of. “Do you want a plush, Albedo?” Albedo doesn’t sleep with plushes— something you’re well aware of. 

“Do you want one?” 

“I mean, I’ll get one only if you want one too.” 

“So I’ll get one.” 

You know he’s only saying this so that you can have one, and you know that in the first place one of the reasons why you’d asked him was because you wanted one, but even still you feel like you should argue that if he doesn’t want the carrot plush you can always make do with your blankets and pillows. 

You suppose that doing things like that has become a habit, since you’d been doing so for the whole of the past year with your parents. Just placing yourself in a cycle of wanting and denying, of making yourself insignificant. An invisible figure by choice. 

He lets go of one of his hands’ grip over the cart handle, taking your hand in his, before running along. Slightly shocked but still pleasantly surprised, you follow his lead, and for once you seem to be the more logical one among the two of you. 

“Why are we running?” you question in between giggles. 

“We’re the only ones near the exit, so we might as well do so.” 

“This feels— haha—” 

“Like Bande à Part, right?” 

You make a sound like a gasp, “You remembered the movie?” 

Well, of course he would, because he’s Albedo, and Albedo is good at a lot of things. Being able to remember things for you is one of them, and even though he’s done something like this millions of times it feels like now it’s getting particularly attractive. Huh. Since when did everything he did become like that? You know it’s mostly because you’ve realised you love him now, like, love-love him , but… wow. Albedo, the man that you are. Damn, the two of you really did do lots of things that couple did even before the two of you started doing all of this. 

“Of course.” 

—

“We’re back!” you cheer as Albedo enters the house, hauling one side of the Christmas tree box as you carry the other. “We got everything!” 

“Wow, someone’s happy!” Alice smiles, “What happened?” 

“Albedo got me a carrot plush,” you grin, the two of you setting the box near the sofa in perfect sync, and then heading out to the car trunk to get everything else. “It’s the cutest thing ever.” 

Alice coos when you take it from the passenger seat and show it to her, your hands wrapped around it like you’re holding up a baby. 

“And we bought something for Klee, as well,” Albedo states, voice having dropped in volume. “A new backpack that she can use whenever she wants to, whether in or out of school.” 

“But shh,” you whisper, grabbing his arm and squeezing it, “We can’t let her know what it is yet.” 

“So I take it that you two had a good date?” Alice teases. 

“I-I, uh…” you stammer. But you look at Albedo, and there’s some pink dusting his face too (it’s adorable. You didn’t picture him the type to blush like this, but if this can happen with you, he’d react the same with anyone else, too, right? Or are you just in denial?). Then you smile, “Yeah. I suppose so,” and you repeat it because you like how it sounds as you speak it, “Yeah, we did; we had a really good one out there.” 

— 

“Can I post something about you online, please?” you ask him, sitting on the sofa, your hands working his hair into a low ponytail. 

“On Twitter?” 

“Yeah. Do you have an account? I could tag you.” 

“No, but it’s fine. Feel free to post whatever if it’s of me, since I’m not there anyway.” 

You don’t know how someone your age knows about current issues on the internet as much as he does, but maybe he doesn’t. You never really thought to ask, and you can’t blame him either if he eludes it. 

“I have a picture of you sleeping, but I digress. I just wanted to post a picture of the carrot.” 

“You can post both of them.” 

“You sure? I know that it’s not like I’d do anything anyway, but there’ll be other people who can still see them. What if they use it as blackmail? I mean, I don’t know how a picture of you could be used as anything to harm you, but with technology these days…” 

“I’ll be alright, don’t worry,” he assures you, “Post away.” 

“Wait, wait,” you pause, “They’re going to find out.” 

“I’m fine with that.” 

“I mean, I did tell them once that I would explain…” 

“Explain what?” 

You inhale, “Okay, long story. I basically panicked for a while after you called me ‘love’ for the first time and I said something on my account when I thought that I’d been posting on my private account and someone found out and shared it with the whole groupchat and I just said that I’d tell them eventually— but hey, I mean whether to tell them or not was still up to debate since I wanted to ask you first—” 

“Calm down,” he interrupts, “That must have been a lot to say.” 

“I didn’t even know either. Wow,” you take a deep breath to regain your composure, “I mean, I do want to let them know that it may be you, since some of them even deducted it, but most of them must think that I hit it off with some random stranger miles away from home in Mondstadt. And it would be nice if at least a few people knew: imagine being someone like me and being able to brag that I’m dating the Albedo, who’s smart and handsome and— hey, why’d you blush? You usually don’t whenever I say good things about you,” you comment, scratching the back of your neck. 

At this the pink only contrasts even more to his snow-hued skin. “I’m not quite sure. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that you’re not complimenting me at your own expense,” he confesses, “And you’re one to talk. Scratching one’s neck is often a sign of being flustered.” 

“Oh.” Immediately you force your hand down. Then you should try to praise him a little more, then. And maybe you should try not to do it by raising him up and putting yourself down. Maybe. You grin wryly. You’re getting better at handling situations like these. “So I’ll post you, then— but promise me that you’ll help me explain if it becomes too much. I’m sure that they all know about you through me anyway.” 

“I promise.” 

“I cropped your face out for good measure, by the way.” 

“You don’t need to… ah, never mind. Thank you, love.” 

“What should I say, though?” you ask mid-silence as he scrolls through dissertations and research articles. 

“Huh?” 

“They asked about how we became a thing, but how do I explain it to them…?” 

“Well, you don’t have to change much. You can just make it sound vague. Maybe you can just say that we talked about it and decided on it together.” 

Well, that technically was what you’d done, anyway. 

“Alright, thanks,” you grin, moving closer to hug him. He grins as well— despite how expressionless he normally is, this time he’s as warm as the fireplace before the two of you— and reciprocates it. 

You snort, placing your phone down in the process and promptly letting Chongyun deny his crush on Xingqiu only for Xingqiu to tease him relentlessly. It’s about time they got together, anyway. 

“What happened?” Albedo asks. 

“I’m the best wingperson ever, and, I’m officially in my Lover era.” 

He chuckles, “Tell me all about all of it, then. Whose wingperson were you today?” 

You laugh. And it’s nice, this is nice. With every moment you think you’re falling a little more. So you keep talking his ear off, because you’ll always do so with a smile on your face no matter what, and he keeps listening to you because he’ll always do so.

taglist: @sn1perz , @n3r0-1417, @kika-a, @chalksdreams

(please send in an ask if you’d like to be in the taglist <3)

[clairenatural]

Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.

It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.

It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.

He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.

Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.

So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.

It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”

Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 

Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 

The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”

It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.

Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.

"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.

Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.

"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.

"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.

He turns the keys. He drives them home.

Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).

Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.

It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"

Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."

"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."

"You didn't correct her?"

"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.

"Uh huh."

"It felt trivial."

"To tell her we're not married?"

"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.

Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."

"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.

Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.

"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"

Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"

Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."

Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."

Across the table, Cas grins at him.

"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.

"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."

"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."

They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.

[lolahasmoxie]

Conversations at 3 AM (E.M.)

PAIRING: Eddie Munson x Reader

WORD: 1.3k

WARNING: nudity, language, casual intimacy, established relationship, friends to lovers, mentions of getting pregnant, mentions of sexy times, heart-to-heart talks (Eddie & reader are 25)

CONCEPT: You and Eddie aren't used to people sticking around.

DIVIDER FROM @firefly-graphics

Even though you were born at 6 a.m. on the dot, you were a night owl through and through.

During high school and college, summer meant you became a nocturnal creature, much to the annoyance of your family. There was one person it never annoyed, though.

You had met Eddie in elementary school after he moved into the trailer across from yours. From the day you met, you had been thick as thieves. For years, your friends watched as you skirted the line of will they won't they, watching the other traverse dating and relationships with an envious eye. It wasn't until a year ago, when Eddie kissed you during the middle of a movie night, that you had finally become more.

Tonight, you'd had dinner at Steve's house with the whole gang, seeing as Mike, Dustin, and Lucas were all in town for a long weekend from college. The boys had planned a one-off campaign at your shared apartment the following night, and by midnight, you and Eddie were in your home.

Side by side, you brushed your teeth, trying not to laugh as Eddie made faces at you in the mirror. Once in your Queen bed, Eddie's hands began mapping your body, and in a practiced routine that felt like breathing, you let him love you until sleep came for you both.

However, this time, sleep only came for Eddie.

You had tried everything to fall back asleep: counting sheep, listing Metallica songs followed by Black Sabbath, breathing in time with Eddie. Nothing worked. So, as carefully as you could, you crawled out of his hold, placing your pillow closer to Eddie when he started to stir. As his gangly arms wound around the object, you entered your kitchen.

You had been at the table for a while when you heard soft footsteps coming down the hallway. Turning your head, you watch as your tall metalhead boy walks into the kitchen naked as a jaybird, cock dangling freely as his hands wipe at his eyes like a little boy.

"What time issit." he mumbles as Eddie comes up behind you. He wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss on your hairline. "Why are you still up?"

"Almost 3 a.m. and I tried to go to sleep, but no dice," you say. He nods in understanding before sitting next to you at the table.

"I was having this great dream; you were wearing that black number you wore to our last show at the Hideout? Anyway, you were letting me drag you to the bathroom to do unspeakable things to you when I woke up, and instead of rubbing against my pretty girlfriend, I was humping your pillow. By the way, I'm pretty sure there's a stain, and I'm sorry in advance." You can't help but smile as you dip a carrot into the hummus.

"Didn't want to wake you up. You know how I toss and turn when I can't sleep."

"So there's no reason you're up at almost 3 a.m. eating," he paused as he reached for the container of hummus. "Jalapeno hummus? Holy fuck, you're not pregnant, are you?"

"No, you asshole," you playfully slap Eddie's arm as he tries to play off his terrified expression. "Nice to know how you feel about the topic, though."

"I'm just warning you, we could be on a babymaking schedule to get knocked up; I will still probably freak the fuck out when it does happen, so just a heads up for when we get there."

"Duly noted." you chuckle. Eddie laces his hand into yours and brings them to his lips. You can feel his eyes on you; you know Eddie will give you your space to work out whatever is going on in your brain. But he's also a persistent asshole who won't stop until he finds out why you left him alone in bed. "Does this ever feel too good, Eds?"

"What do you mean?"

"Us. I mean, we disagree on things, but we never really fight. Being together with you has always just felt scarily easy; I've never had that with other boyfriends." You sigh as you look at your joined hands. "Feels like I'm waiting for something, but I don't know for what."

"Easy, I know what it is," Eddie says as he gives your hand a squeeze. "You're waiting for the other shoe to drop." When you meet his gaze, those cow-brown eyes study you, looking at you with more love than you think you can handle.

"Elaborate, please."

"You and I have always been alike," he begins. "our dating histories are littered with people telling us we were too much. Too loud, too needy, or too whatever. But here's the good part, babe. You will never be too much for me. Ever."

"You mean it?" You're impressed that he could sum up your feelings so succinctly. He grins at you, a beautiful smile spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I mean it. I had to watch you date assholes for ten years; you really think I'm gonna let you go now that I'm lucky enough to call you mine? Not a chance, sweetheart." You reach out a hand and cup his cheek, and you can't help but smile when Eddie leans into your touch.

"Thank you, Eddie."

"No problem; you know, I had resigned myself to loving you from afar a long time ago. Sometimes, when I wake up next to you, I feel like I gotta pinch myself to make sure it's real."

"You're such a cheeseball," you tease. "Why don't you head back to bed? I'm gonna clean up and join you in a minute." You stand from your chair, but Eddie stops you with a tug of your hand. In a flash, you're on his lap. Your hands hold onto his shoulders, although you're in no danger of falling. Edde's grip is secure as he gives you a look you are all too familiar with. You speak his name, and he raises a hand to push the hair from your face.

"You know, it was very mean to leave me in that big bed all by myself," he begins, his hand cupping your cheek. You feel your body warm as his thumb caresses your cheek. "Why don't you let me take you back to bed and help quiet that big brain of yours. Sound good, sweetheart?"

You lean in to kiss your man, his arms wrapping tight around you as he fists your shirt in his hands. When his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, you happily grant him access, tangling your hands in his hair while you slowly start to grind against him. When you feel him hard and warm underneath you, you think you may never want to sleep again.

You both enjoy the kiss, neither of you rushing things. You pull back when you need air, and while Eddie's face is happy, there's something else. You raise an eyebrow as he licks his lips.

"You taste like salsa." You can't help but laugh as you lean forward and bury your nose in his neck. He pulls you closer, hands caressing your back like you're the most precious being in his universe. You can feel his chuckle as your chests press together.

You stay still for a moment to enjoy being surrounded by him. One of the things you loved about being nocturnal was how quiet the world was at almost 3 a.m. You hum contentedly when you feel Eddie's lips against your hair. You close your eyes, wanting to commit this moment, this feeling to memory.

"Alright," Eddie taps you on the ass and breaks the silence. "Let me take you back to bed, alright?" You climb out of his lap and softly kiss the corner of his mouth.

"I'll go brush my teeth. Why don't you go make sure the bed is warm." Eddie hops up, cock bobbing comically as he begins to do a naked run back to your room.

"I'll keep the home fires burning! If I fall asleep, wake me up with head!"

BONUS: THE NEXT DAY

Dustin: I'm just gonna have a seat here, and we can get started.

Eddie: fair warning, my naked ass has been on that chair.

Dustin: 😳

Dustin: like, recently naked?

Eddie: last night.

Dustin: you're a fucking animal.

Eddie: 😁

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lost 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers

Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your shift ends and you’re ready to just be alone. It isn’t your first choice of work. In Sokovia, you had your own office and you worked from home on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Here, your resume can’t get you much else than the convenience store gig. Money is money. After all you’ve lost, it’s the only thing left in this world with any meaning.

You come up to the house. It’s a dour building with chipped brick and dark windows. One is covered on the inside with newspaper. The stairs to the second level creak with your steps and your keys jingle as you twist them in the lock. Everything is so loud.

Inside, the hallway is grim with shadows. You kick off your shoes before you enter and clutch the strap of your bag. You have a package of ramen left. You’ll choke that down and close your eyes.

As you come further down the hall, you slow down, odd shapes littered across the floor just outside your door. You get nearer and notice your door is open. How can that be? You always lock it. You double and even triple check.

You stop short of the mess of your meagre belongings across the floor. Three cans, carrots, beans, and pees are dented on their sides; your package of ramen is crushed, the seam split and spilling out broken noodles; your only other sweater is slashed down the front, the stitching unraveling all around the gash; and your bedding dragged off your bed and into the hallway. All that you have, not much at all, right there before you.

You look at the blackened doorway. You can see from there that the top hinge is broken, you can assume the lock is too. You don’t dare go any further as you fear someone lurking inside. You turn back to the door, contemplating whether to retreat or brave the unknown.

The lock flips back, grinding as the deadbolt slides back, and the door opens. You brace yourself as S enters. He looks perturbed even before he sees you. You press your lips together, staring at him dumbly. His eyes meet yours and his brows arch. Then his gaze falls behind you.

He reaches to flip on the light switch beside the door frame. He exhales, disappointment, and closes the door, locking it. He beckons you closer with two fingers. You’re too addled to refuse. You move towards him and sidle against the wall as he signals past you.

Almost militarily, he marches past you. He takes out his cellphone and shines the light ahead of him. His other fist balls as he nears your bedroom. He flashes the light inside as he comes to fill the doorway. You see the room glow before him as his eyes search.

“Dirty coward’s not here,” he snarls as he lowers his phone, thumbing off the light. “... find him.”

He pivots and slides his phone into his back pocket. He seems even bigger as he strides away. You gulp and follow him. 

“Um, sir, it’s–”

“Not okay,” he passes by the kitchen and through the shared front room, “that creep–”

“Really, it’s not– I don’t want to–”

“Thinks he can mess with you. I don’t like bullies,” he growls as he continues on briskly.

“Please, er, I don’t like confrontation. Or violence.”

“I’m not going to get violent,” he stops at the next hall and turns halfway, “just gonna scare him like he did you.”

“You don’t have to–”

“I do. You don’t get it but I do,” he turns back to his mission and stomps into the hall. 

You’re a few steps behind him as he gets to the furthest door. He hammers on it with his large fist. You cower and wring your hands. Your legs shake as the loud pounding rolls in your head like thunder; like buildings collapsing all around you as plumes of dust and smoke choke your lungs.

“What do you think you’re doing, you little worm?” S’s sneer fades as the sight of him grabbing the greasy man by the collar blurs to coloured orbs.

You don’t hear the man’s response or what comes next. You cover your ears and stagger back until your back meets the wall. The memories of your home falling down around you, of the streets littered with bodies, screams erupting from every corner, as horror rains from the sky.

A slam brings you back. You quiver and gasp as you look over. Your hands are clutched in tight fists against your chest, nails digging into your palms. S steps back on his heel as he glares at the closed door.

“Don’t think he’ll bother you ag…” his voice trails as he looks around, stopping short as he sees you towards the other end of the hall, “I… are you alright?”

You can’t speak or move. You just stand, blinking, trembling, as you stare back at him. He nears and you flinch out of his reach as he stretches a hand out. You force your arms down.

“I don’t like violence,” you whisper.

“I didn’t hurt him. Just scared him.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“I’m sorry, I thought…” he pauses, recalculating as you turn your chin away. “I didn’t think. I’m really sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You shrug. You shake your head and drag your feet out of the hall. You cross the front room and go back down the next. You get down and start to gather up what you can salvage. The rest you’ll sweep into the dustpan.

“What are you going to do? Door’s broken.”

You stand up with the dented cans and your pillow. “Landlord.”

“She’ll have to call someone. She won’t answer her phone either. Too late.”

“What else can I do?” You mumble and go into your room.

You wade around the darkness cautiously but the lamp isn’t where it should be. You kick it with your foot. The overhead light doesn’t work. The space is illuminated by something else. You look at the star of light in the doorway, S’s silhouette behind it as he shines his phone inward.

You peer around. The smell of piss roils off the mattress. You can’t believe it. Why would he do that? To scare you? Why? You were nice. Except you didn’t let him in last night. The memory makes you shudder.

“Real piece of work. Hopefully Muriel finally evicts him,” S says, “I’ll vouch that it was him too.”

You don’t say anything. It seems like fate is against you. You can’t even have this shitty room.

“Tell you what, you can have my room for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch. The others don’t bother me.”

You hang your head, “I can’t…”

“Well, I can’t let you stay in here. Or out on the couch. If you won’t take it, I’ll just have to sleep outside your door.”

You roll your eyes, “why?”

He sniffs and lets out a long breath, “that’s what decent people do. They help each other.”

You’re exhausted and mortified and the smell of urine is making you sick. You don’t have the energy to argue. Not with this man. Just like the shake, you won’t win.

“Just the night,” you agree, “I’ll pay you for it–”

“I won’t take the money.”

“Please,” you beg.

“Keep your money,” he insists, “I have extra sheets. I’ll get those changed.”

You nod and stay in the darkness. You hug your possessions glumly, push your lip in and out as you wallow. You just need one good thing. Just one.

“How was it? The strawberry?” He lingers just outside the door as he shuts the light off, “I never tried it.”

You swallow, “a bit too sweet.”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,942 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10, The Reapers Warnings: language, violence, gore, angst A/N: This is Part 4 of a series! Find all the parts on my pinned post, the Master List Summary: Daryl helps Y/N and DJ get settled in Alexandria.

Part 3

You walked beside Daryl, a teary smile on your face as you looked ahead at Judith and RJ running and playing with Dog. “It seems impossible that this little girl is the same chubby baby I fed pureed carrots to,” you laughed. “And RJ... They’re beautiful, Daryl.”

“Yeah. They are.” The softness on Daryl’s face was threatening to melt you into a puddle. His eyes turned to DJ next, and that softness remained.

You met his blue eyes again and your lips were drawn down in a soft pout. Tears brimmed in your eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “About Rick. And now Michonne’s gone off… Maggie told me.”

“Yeah,” Daryl drawled, ducking his head and fighting the tidal wave of anxiety and grief and hopelessness that always crested in his chest when he thought of his lost brother. “‘M sorry too. Mostly for them,” he said, nudging his head toward the kids again. “But it’s been hard on everybody…”

“Including you, I’m sure.” Tears burned in your eyes again and you did your best to blink them away. Rick and Michonne were family, and you had hoped to reunite with them again too as soon as you’d found Maggie. The news about much of your old family had been hard to take, especially after losing everyone else at your community so recently. But you knew how deep and unhealing that wound must be for Daryl, losing a true brother…

Daryl hummed a response but you let the topic drop for now.

Alexandria was certainly left worse for wear since the Whisperers had briefly occupied it with their horde. Daryl cast a sideways glance at you as if worried about your reaction to the destruction and mess you were now walking through.

“Ain’t usually like this… ya just arrived at the end of a full-on war,” he said.

Far from seeing concern or judgement on your face, Daryl noted that you seemed to be seeing it with eyes that picked out the potential. He felt another swell of warmth for you. “If it’s home for you, then it’ll be home for us too,” you said. “And I’ll be more than happy to help however I can with the rebuilding.”

Home. It was true that Alexandria was home, and he would die to defend it and the people in it, but there was another home that he’d lost a long time ago, and it was now walking beside him… Then, he suddenly remembered what Carol had said to him at the wall. “Please tell me you aren’t going to stick them in some random empty apartment or house.” His feet must have faltered because you turned and glanced over at him immediately.

“Everything okay?”

“Uhh—yeah… I just—” he chewed anxiously on his bottom lip for a moment, and you nearly smiled. It was the same nervous habit he’d always had. “I was thinkin’, if you and DJ wanted to… I mean, ya could stay at my place. I’ve got a spare bedroom—s’where Jude and RJ usually sleep when I’ve got ‘em, but that ain’t no big deal. I can make ‘em up bedrolls on the floor in my room if they’re stayin’ or—” he was rambling nervously, “—if ya ain’t comfortable with that, I mean, stayin’ at my place, we’ve got plenty of other apartments and houses. We could set ya up somewhere else—I just thought, with DJ, might be easier—and maybe would be, I dunno, would be—"

“Daryl—” You stopped him with a hand gentle on his arm. “Of course we’d love to stay with you, if you’re okay with the extra trouble.”

He gulped. The last fucking thing he wanted now was to be parted from you and DJ, even if it was just by half a block. “Ain’t no extra trouble,” he drawled quietly, slightly transfixed from the touch of your hand on his arm.

You laughed. “You say that now… but you may have forgotten over the last decade, I can be a handful,” you joked. “And DJ? He takes after his dad in some ways.”

Daryl let out an amused exhale and shook his head. “Poor kid,” he joked, but you shot him a look.

“Lucky kid,” you corrected him. God, he’d missed that. You had always been so affirming to him. You had unwavering confidence in him and you told him and showed him every damn day. His internal monologue was often so dark, especially lately with things all seeming to go wrong. But you had always shown a light on him, always told him so earnestly that he was good and loved even when he didn’t believe it or didn’t feel he deserved it himself. He felt a swell of gratitude and emotion and fought against what felt like a huge bubble in his chest that was getting ready to burst. Your voice interrupted him.

“So. Which way is home?” You were looking at him expectantly.

“Uhh, this way,” he murmured, tilting his head toward the next street over. He let out a loud whistle and Dog turned and came rushing back. “Hey—Jude, RJ. Let’s go! We’re gonna help Y/N and DJ get settled, alright?”

“Uncle Daryl?” RJ said when he had trotted over, looking up with shining brown eyes.

“Yeah, bud?”

“I’m hungry,” he said.

Daryl ruffled a hand through his own hair a little anxiously. “Yeah… yeah, we’ll have to see ‘bout that in a bit. Let’s head home first and then I’ll figure that out, okay?”

You and Daryl exchanged a knowing glance. Keeping growing kids nourished was a constant worry.

“Mom?” DJ asked you softly. You looked down at him with a questioning look. He dug into his small bag and pulled out an apple. It was slightly bruised on one side, but shone bright red in the sun and seemed just as crisp as when you’d picked it for him a few days back. “Can I?” he asked. Your heart swelled and you nodded as you ran your fingers down one of the wavy strands of his brown hair.

“Of course. That’s a very kind thing to do,” you said proudly.

DJ trotted a few paces to catch up to RJ and then nudged him gently with his elbow, holding out the apple to him. RJ took it excitedly and thanked him with a broad smile. He took a huge bite and then offered it to Judith, who also happily shared it. Pretty soon the three of them were sharing it like old pals.

Daryl was smiling as he watched the exchanged. “That’s some kid ya’ve got,” he said softly.

“You mean that we’ve got,” you corrected him. “He’s your son, Daryl.”

Daryl gulped and looked down at you, his eyes still a little wide with disbelief. We. You’d said we. He wanted so desperately to read into that and allow his mind to run on with all his foolish hopes… He nudged his nose up in a shy nod and chewed on his bottom lip a moment. A son. He had a son.

The kids ran ahead, chasing after Dog and throwing a stick for him time and time again, until finally Daryl cleared his throat and nodded toward the nearest condo on the end of a small row. “This is me,” he said. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck nervously. “Yer place now too, if ya think it’ll work okay. And ya don’t mind a bit’a dog hair.” It was as if he needed to give you every opportunity to change your mind.

“DJ and I have been sleeping wherever I could find the smallest bit of shelter or safety for quite a while now. We moved every day. This is going to be a huge change for the better. Thank you.” You studied his expression again. “And I don’t mind the dog hair,” you laughed. Dog seemed to have heard you because he came and slipped through the space between your legs, stopping and leaning to one side, rubbing his body against your leg, looking up at you. You laughed and bent to give him neck scratches and he was soon licking your face.

“He likes ya,” Daryl said. There was a smile in his voice. He took that moment and allowed himself to take in the way the afternoon light was illuminating the hues in your eyes as you glanced back up at him and the shine in your hair. He felt like he’d been transported to some alternate dimension—he was so used to struggling to live every day without you and suddenly… here you were. Dog finally darted to the garage door, prancing anxiously on his front paws, and Daryl collected himself enough to go over and push it up. RJ and Judith raced in after Dog, but DJ waited back.

Your eyes went immediately to the bike parked there. “Oh my God,” you said, grinning. The light in your eyes now seemed to be sparking on his behalf as you strode over to it. You shot him a brilliant look and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat and then sped up. “This is amazing. Did you build this?” you asked, touching it here and there.

Daryl brushed a hand back through his hair and shrugged. “Yeah. Aaron, you’ll meet Aaron, he had been collectin’ parts for years before he brought our group in. He didn’t really know what to do with them. First damn thing I did after I was sure Alexandria was gonna be real, safe, was put ‘em to good use.”

DJ was looking at the bike with eager interest and excitement. “You built it? From scrap?” he asked again.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yep.”

“Can I have a ride?” he asked excitedly.

Daryl smiled. “Yeah. ‘Course. Uhh—as long as that’s okay with yer mom,” Daryl said, glancing your direction, resting a hand on the handlebar.

“Nobody safer to ride with,” you said, nodding. “As long as you wear a helmet, DJ. But not today. Maybe tomorrow, if the weather is good, alright?” DJ seemed satisfied with that and ran ahead into the condo after Judith and RJ. You glanced over at Daryl again and his eyes were already on you. He was wringing his hands a little anxiously. “Well, when do I get a ride from you again? It’s been a while. Maybe tonight?” Daryl’s mouth dropped slightly open and you laughed nervously when you realized the obvious innuendo. You felt your cheeks flushing. “The bike!” you said in a hurry. “I meant on—” you pressed a hand up to your face and ducked his gaze. Daryl was gulping nervously. “Jesus—I meant on the—” You sighed and laughed again, quite sure that your face was still bright red.

Daryl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly, but he was also feeling a heat in his chest like you’d just struck flint and steel to tinder and he too let out a small, awkward laugh. Not to mention that intimate scenes he held dearly deep in his mind were suddenly rushing into the forefront like they’d been called. He could still feel the shape of your hip under his hand like it was just yesterday, or the softness of you as his fingertips dimpled into your skin… He could see the water cascading down your body as he pressed you back against the wall of the shower. He could hear your hurried breathing, the breathy way you used to say his name… The noises of pleasure he’d been able to pull from you. When he couldn’t sleep or when things were just too dark, he’d let his mind wander over those memories, but he had to limit himself. Otherwise, he would have run the risk of living entirely there in that daydream, forgetting the now, and then how would he have kept going, knowing it may be lost forever? And then suddenly you were made real in front of him again. Here. You were right here. Shit. Get it together, man. He refocused his attention on the expectant look on your face. “Uhh—lemme show ya inside,” he drawled.

You bit your bottom lip and followed him in. The kids were all piled on the couch, Dog in front of them, and your heart lifted to see DJ interacting with Jude and RJ so easily. There must have been a smile on your face because Daryl was looking at you with the corners of his eyes crinkled in one too.

“It’s been a long time since he’s been able to be around any other kids, before Hershel, I mean,” you said. The smile faded again and Daryl thought you looked suddenly veiled in sadness briefly.

“C’mon,” he said, tilting his head toward the small hallway. “Bathroom in there,” he said, passing the small room on the right. “Here’s the spare room,” he said. Out of habit he tried to flick on the light and then remembered that the Whisperers had trashed the solar panels and he flicked it back off. “Uhh… sorry. No power back up yet.”

“Haven’t had power in years,” you said. “Won’t even miss it.”

Daryl ruffled his fingers back through his hair again. “We’ll get it back up,” he said with certainty. “‘Til then I got plenty of candles and lanterns and stuff. Remind me before it gets dark. My room is just—” he pointed down the hall to the next door, “right there.”

You leaned on the doorframe next to him and looked in at the little room. A bed. A real bed. “Thanks for this.”

He ducked his head and nodded, shifting nervously beside you. “Yeah. S’nothin’. Dun need to thank me.”

There was a loud squeal from one of the kids and you both moved back to the main room. Dog had jumped on the couch with the three of them and was now laying fully across their laps. You hadn’t seen such a grin on DJ’s face in what felt like a lifetime. You glanced around the room, taking in the space and what Daryl had done to make it his. There were various antlers and pelts around, and the coffee table had a few old books on it, the top one about piracy. “Hmm,” you hummed.

“What?” he asked.

“Nice place you have here. It’s very Daryl,” you said, a small smile curving your lips. “It suits you. Though maybe a cabin in the woods would still suit you better.”

Daryl’s stomach suddenly clenched. A cabin in the woods. Fuck. He had to tell you. He had to figure out how the fuck to tell you…

“What do you think?” you asked him, and Daryl suddenly realized you must have been talking to him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Think the kids would be okay here on their own for a while so we can go try and find some food for everyone?”

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, and we can ask Rosita and Gabe to look in on ‘em.”

Your face brightened. “Please, let’s go see Rosita.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, course. And—Gabriel ain’t the same anymore,” Daryl said. “He’s turned out to be real good to have around.”

You shook your head and let out a laugh of disbelief. “You remember what I said when he finally got down off that rock?”

Daryl snorted out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Ya asked if we could put him back.” You laughed again more earnestly.

“And—him and Rosita? Really? I mean, Maggie told me but it’s still hard to wrap my brain around…”

Daryl laughed again, fiddling anxiously with a rock on the side table. “I think that took all of us by surprise at first,” Daryl drawled. “But—” he shrugged. “They do seem to be doin’ good together. C’mon. Let’s get goin’ while we still got daylight.” He stepped farther into the room and managed to grab the kids’ attention. “Hey—Jude. Yer the oldest, so yer in charge, alrigh’? We’re just gonna go see about some dinner, okay? If we ain’t back when it’s startin’ to get dark, ya go to Aunt Rosita’s or find Uncle Jerry and Aunt Nabila at their place, okay? And keep away from that part of the wall tha’s down. I mean it. Ya can show DJ around, but I don’t want ya over there.”

Jude nodded and agreed. “Okay.”

“Dog, get down,” Daryl said, and the Malinois jumped back onto the rug. Daryl hugged Jude and ruffled RJ’s hair. Then he held a fist out to DJ, who eagerly bumped it with his own and grinned. Daryl knelt down so he was at their eye level again. “We’ll be back just as soon as we can, alrigh’? Ya’ll be good and stay safe. Jude, ya got yer sword? Good. You and DJ, watch out for RJ.”

Your heart felt like it grew three sizes just watching him reassuring the kids and making sure that everyone was alright for you both to leave. “We’ll try not to be too long,” you said, and you went and grabbed each of them in a hug, leaving a kiss on the top of DJ’s head too. “Keep your bow with you,” you told him. “Good. See you soon, hopefully with some dinner.”

The reunion with Rosita was emotional, and you cooed over baby Coco with her and lamented the loss of Siddiq when she told you what had happened in brief. By the time you were heading back to Daryl’s to grab his bike and head out, you agreed that Gabriel was an entirely different person than he had been when you’d known him. “Gotta admit… the eye and still wearing the stuffy outfit—it’s definitely a look,” you said, walking back beside Daryl.

He let out a small laugh and glanced over at you. “Like I said, he ain’t the same.” He strapped his crossbow onto the bike and slung his leg over, standing up so you could slip on behind him. Nervous flutters were already rising before you even climbed on, and when your hands finally settled lightly on his sides, he felt like his body temp rose a hundred degrees. He did his best not to stiffen with nerves and settled down on the seat. “Ain’t sure what we’ll find out there,” he said. “Those assholes brought a horde through ‘round here. Scared off most of the game.”

Your arms looped around him more fully and he gulped again. “Fish probably didn’t run away. Neither did the plants and fungi. We’ll find something,” you said ardently. “We always find something.”

Daryl started his bike and, for a brief moment, thought he felt your cheek press to the back of his shoulder. “Ya ready?”

“Hell yeah!” you yelled over the engine, and he could hear the smile in your voice.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Having any luck?” you asked Daryl as you approached from out of the woods nearby again, a canvas bag that now seemed rather full clutched in your hand.

“Mhm… Carp. Gonna taste like mud,” he said, nodding to the huge fish lying on the grass beside him. “But they’re definitely better than nothin’. You?”

“Yeah. Found a good haul of mushrooms—chantarelles, oyster mushrooms, chicken of the woods. And a bunch of edible plants. Ramps?” you held up a clump of something from your bag.

“Uhhh—am I s’posed to know what the hell yer talkin’ about?”

You laughed heartily and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat, as it seemed to do damn near every time you did anything. “Ramps!” you said again. “They’re a wild onion. Taste kind of like a cross between garlic and scallions.”

“Hmm,” Daryl nod, turning his attention back to the river and shooting an arrow into the now writhing form of a dark fish. “Learn somethin’ new ev’ry day. I think I always just called them wild onions. No need to be fancy about it,” he teased you, grabbing his arrow and the impaled fish with it.

You gave him a look and then turned your eyes back to the pile of large fish on the bank. “I think we have enough here for quite a bit soup. We’ll be able to feed some hungry kids tonight.”

Daryl retrieved his arrow and grabbed a bag for the fish from his pack. “Tha’s what it’s all about,” he said.

You spun around as you heard a twig snap somewhere behind you in the trees. Daryl stood and grabbed his bow again, immediately on edge, and paced several steps forward in the soft grass until he was slightly in front of you. It was a protective instinct he’d always had… even now it came back like old muscle memory.

The snap of the dry wood was soon followed by a growing growl sound and the two of you both breathed sighs of relief. “Goddamn walker. Tha’s all,” he drawled.

“Yeah,” you agreed, though the worry didn’t leave your face completely. Daryl was again sharply aware that you’d been through some very serious shit very recently, shit he didn’t yet know the full extent of. “We should get back. It’s going to start getting dark soon.”

“Yeah. I was just thinkin’ the same thing.” Daryl unsheathed his knife and advanced on the scrawny and emaciated looking rotter ambling toward the two of you. He lunged with a perfectly placed strike and sunk his blade into its head. It crumpled to the leaf litter and laid still.

The two of you strode back toward his bike, side by side, and you glanced over at him when you felt his eyes on you. “Hmm?” you prompted him, adjusting your hold on the foraging bag stuffed full of ingredients over your shoulder.

He shrugged and looked back down toward where he was placing his boots. “Will ya tell me—uhh… ‘bout when he was born? I mean—where were ya and—guess I just wanna know ‘bout it all,” he said.

Your expression was soft as you looked back at him and Daryl relaxed some. “Yeah, of course. Daryl, you can ask me anything you want to about DJ. Really about anything. Ask me anything about anything,” you laughed. “I’ll do my best to answer. Oh—and remind me to show you the book when the kids are in bed tonight.”

“The book?”

You nodded. “Yeah. The book.”

He nodded, intrigued. “Alrigh’.”

You sighed, looking ahead and taking in the way the light was filtering through the leaves still clinging to the craggy oak branches. “When DJ was born, I was still in Georgia. You remember how I said people just were finding me or I was finding them?” Daryl nodded. “I had been trying to scavenge supplies from this huge department store, get ready for the baby and find some more vitamins and stuff. I thought there was a good chance there were supplies left inside because the parking area had been some kind of military checkpoint or something and the whole thing had these huge fences chain link fences topped with razor wire. I hadn’t seen any walkers in there… I found some fence cutters and made a way inside. Pried a door open and got into the building. I was right. There were supplies in there,” you laughed dryly. “But the reason I hadn’t seen any walkers was because there were people living inside.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed heavily.

“I was lucky—very lucky. They turned out to be good people, just a small group of survivors. A found family. They saw, immediately of course, that I was pregnant and one of them happened to be a midwife. They were all with me when I went into labor. We had left the store by then. There were getting to be too many dead in the suburbs and we’d headed away from the populated areas. We took a Jeep and a truck full of supplies and found this farmhouse and set up there for the winter. It reminded a little of Hershel’s farm. We had a decent stock of supplies and I had everything I needed for the baby but I was still terrified of course… especially after what happened to Lori. But everything went smoothly and after an excruciating 14 hours of labor, I delivered a healthy baby boy and named him Daryl as soon as I saw him.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked over at him again. Your voice was soft and breathy when you spoke again and you’d had to fight to get the words out. “I wish you were there,” you said. “I wished that more than anything at the time and still. He was just this tiny little thing, all wiry arms and legs.” You sniffled and tried to pull yourself back together. “For a birth in the apocalypse, I was very lucky,” you said with a dry laugh.

You walked in silence for a while, each of you sinking into your own thoughts, but Daryl finally broke it again. “Those people—were any of ‘em still with ya when—were any of them with ya when yer community was attacked?”

The weight of it settled back over you and you nodded. “Yeah. Two of them were.” The only sound was the soft noise of the damp earth and leaf litter beneath your boots.

“‘M sorry,” Daryl drawled. “We’ve all lost a lotta people over the years, but I ain’t never lost everybody all at once like ya have. Not really. I mean, it felt that way when the prison fell, but I knew there were more of us out there. I knew you were out there, somehow.”

The muscle in your jaw tensed and you nodded, looking up again at the last bit of afternoon light waning against the tops of the trees. In a moment, the tension on your face seemed to pass and you glanced back over at him. “We’ve all lost people. Who’s to say what’s better or worse?”

On the ride back to Alexandria, Daryl swore you held on even more tightly to him than you had on the way out, and he knew he wasn’t imagining that you were leaning into him.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The fish and foraged ingredients had made a huge pot of soup, enough to feed all the kids in Alexandria and a good many adults too. Everyone’s mood was jovial with a full stomach as you sat around the little table with Daryl and the kids. It wasn’t lost on you that DJ and Daryl ate exactly the same; ravenously, unabashedly, and frequently using their sleeves as napkins. It had you smiling through most of the meal. Daryl had caught you staring at him once.

“What?” he prompted you, hurriedly wiping a sleeve across his mouth as if he thought he had food stuck there.

You smiled and shook your head. “Nothing.”

You’d tried to convince Carol to come for dinner but she’d insisted she didn’t want to intrude on your first night back. She gladly accepted some of the soup though, and you’d made her promise to come find you the next day. Now, you and Daryl were telling Judith, RJ, and DJ old stories and regularly cracking them up into fits of giggles. Dog was happily chewing a scavenged deer bone on the rug.

“Hey, what ‘bout that time,” Daryl had to pause and let out a gruff laugh, pointing at you. “‘Member, ya flipped the bird at that squatter? And then—”

“Alright!” you said standing up hurriedly, and cutting him off on purpose. “I think they can hear the rest of that story when they’re all older! Kids, help me clear the table please,” you said, grabbing Daryl’s plate and shooting him a look. His blue eyes were smiling and they followed you all the way into the kitchen as he leaned back in his chair.

Judith and RJ wanted to stay the night since they hadn’t seen their Uncle Daryl in so long (and you were definitely an added bonus) so you helped him set up bed rolls for them on the floor in his room before tucking DJ in in your own bed down the hall. You stroked his hair away from his face and kissed his forehead.

“Mom,” he started, yawning and sinking more deeply into his pillow.

“Mhm?”

“I think I really like this place. And… it’s nice to be around other kids again. This feels like a family,” he said and you nodded in agreement, smiling serenely.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“So… can we stay?” he asked.

“What do I always say?”

“‘We can stay as long as we can stay’,” he recited.

“Right. But, if it makes you feel better, I think and I hope that will be a long time.”

[sweet-honey-tears]

🪦Apocalypse 🔪

Bnha boys x GN Reader

Characters: kirishima,Bakugou,Dabi,Sero

Hi everyone! I’m back and this ‘story’ its extremely different from my others. It much more violent and metions some very sensitive and disturbing topics. So please read the warnings! I am very happy with how this came out but that being said it is still graphic. This totally wasint inspired by the Last Of Us becoming so popular and some other reading choices- yeah no….

As always request are welcomed!!

This story is a mix of head cannons and story’s!

WARNING: Blood,knifes,weapons, guns, Depiction of wounds, scars, Fight Rings, physical fighting,swearing

○ Kirishima ○

Kirishima first sees you working in the kitchen- or more so the makeshift one that’s used to feed the camp(compound).

You’re just humming, cutting carrots with this smile on your face. One of the little girls from the camp is sitting on the counter across from you. She’s both singing and talking to you- about some game she and the other girls were playing outside.

He’s just staring at you with these stars in his eyes as you hum with her. It for some reason makes the whole room feel cozy. Like the world hadnt just decided to throw a deadly curve ball. And instead, you’re working in a actual home and not a cement room.

He watches you, his eyes taking in the smooth motion of the knife. You’re good with it- like really good with it. You’re looking back at the girl, talk to her before looking back ahead, catching Kirishimas eye.

Kirishima is just standing in the doorway, his red (mostly black now! hair pushed up from his bandana. His gray shirt having small moth holes with the words RIOT chipping off. His dark blue jeans were stained at the knees and bottom leg. His lift arm had bandages from a wire cut.

He’s never met you before- you must be from another camp. Meaning you joined this one recently.

“Hey, Crimson Riot, you okay?”

Kirishima smiles, his chest bubbles and his cheeks get warm. His tanned skin hinted a light orange-pink.“You know those comic books?”

Kiri watches you pause mid-carrot cut, he can see the excitement in your face.

“Hell yeah, that was my childhood!”

“Bad words aren't good!” The little girl huff, breaking Kiri from the trance he just entered. Your so… bubbly.

“Shh let’s not tell Mama, k?” Kiri watches you pick her off the counter and place her on the ground. She pinkie promises you, whispering something about wanting a strawberry. And he watched in utter amusement as you hand her one from the counter. Her giggles echoing in the hall as she runs away with her treasure.

Kirishima and you remain, talking about comic books while he’s helping you cut vegetables and make the stew for tonight.

Slowly he keeps coming in and ends up singing songs with the little girl who always seems to be with you in the kitchen.

He finds out you’re from the compound in the south. It had been overrun by the undead due to the attack that had happened earlier that day. An attack by a gang. You had been by the river doing laundry when it happened. The gunfire and explosions- the undead weren’t the problems so much anymore, it was more so people. The undead second.

Kirishima held you the night you told him that, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you push your head into his chest. You both lay in his bed, a late night cleaning dishes brought you here. You’re in between his leg, leaning against his chest as you whisper out your venture here.

Kiri listens intently, his face barrier in your hair. When you go silent, he squeezes you tightly, whispering out comforts. 

○ Katsuki Bakugou ○

Bakugou comes across you in the middle of a supply run with Mina

You’re alone- they can tell- and your huffing air. Your baggy pants hang on your waist and Katsuki can see glimpses of a striped tank top under your zip-up All Might sweatshirt from that old cartoon. Damn, you must be around his age considering the old branding on it.

They both stare at you as you swing your bat down on some poor fool. Pure anger and strength run through your body as you kick the man hard in the chest. Your breath comes out in puffs as you reach down, grabbing the man’s small handgun and disassembling it in an instant.

Bakugou watches in utter amazement from behind some bushes and trees. Mina at his side eyes the both of you. Bakugou remembers the feeling of his mouth going dry “I ant gonna join your shitty cult ya fuckin creep.” You spit at the man. Kat watches, seeing if you’ll go possibly to the final stage of your anger. Are you in control of your rage?

His heart twists as you stare down for a second more. “Now SCRAM. And tell that damn Erny I am not joining.” The man, who’s now sitting up slightly staring at you starts backing away- before full-on sprinting.

“Y’all want something?”

He remembered the look Mina gives him, her fading pink curls bouncing off her dark skin. The sly grin. Fuck.

Bakugous heart flutters a bit when he watches you teach the little kids about proper punching form- self-defense of course.

His cheeks dust prink when you coo at him, dragging your fingers across the back of his shoulder blades as you stroll past him.

God you drive him crazy, but he loves it.

○ Dabi ○

Dabi finds you in an abandoned building. You’re a patchwork of a person if he’s ever seen one. And that coming from him. His face and body were covered in burns from a fire that happened during the chaos of the outbreak. But you- you’re wrapped in bandages, bandaids, and a Cotton pads. You’re eyes are sunk in and you're pale. You’re bruised, and Dabi can see it peeking from your stained shirt collar.

Dabi watched you pathetically lift a handgun, your shaped lips parting to speak out

“I’m not fucking going back”

“No one’s gonna make your doll.” Dabi raises his hand when he hears togas feathery footsteps pad up to the room. A silent signal to say ‘stop’

“I don’t wanna go back.” you’re sniffling and Dabi feels a bit awkward watching it, believing your about to cry till he watches drips of blood fall from your nose.

He lowers himself to the ground and just slowly stalks towards you before he’s wrapping his tattered coat around your shaking form and picking you up.

You’re… different. For someone scared shittless when he found you, you’re incredibly snarky. You throw comebacks like candy and roll your eyes with annoyance at a certain comment.

He watched in utter amazement as you told Shigarki to shut up and later danced in the middle of the kitchen with Toga and Twice. It’s like you’re a different person.

Dabi doesn’t mind the days you switch tho. When you plop yourself next to him on the worn-out couch, shoving yourself into his side shaking slightly

He’ll sigh as tho he’s annoyed but open his coat for you. You'll shuffle closer, laid against him, his coat and arm around you. Those are the days you don’t do much.

You came from a Fight Ring. One where humans went against the undead for entertainment. Or even human against human.

Toga told him you fight like what she imagined a Viking would. Ruthless. He’s unsure if believed Toga when she says you’ve ripped the head off the rotten remains of a walker (a zombie) - expertly avoiding being bit.

That being said. You have bites on your arms. “They’re not infected.” That is all you say and Dabi just nods. He understands all to well. He’s seen those rings.

You where shaking when you told him, rage or fear he didn’t know. But you found your wrapped in Dabi coat, huddled into his side. His low hum the only indicator he’s listening as his palm fins your back.

○ Sero ○

Sero knew you before it all went to hell. You were both neighbors, grew up together as children and hung out when you were teens. You slept over a lot too. It started when you were middle schoolers, watching cartoons. High school had you smoking- that was hard to hide when his parents got home . And college had you both staying up late and studying. And now, you two sometimes sit together a little to be considered friends and talk in hushed tones. As if speaking to loud would break the fragile barrier you had.

Sero rememberers how you yelled for him, causing him to stubble down the stairs of his home and to the door to find you. Your in a pajama shirt and blue jeans. The remains of your other neighbor now is on your face. Blood splattered on your cheeks and chest from the heavy blast. A shotgun resting in your shaky hands. You look both scared and calm, but your breathing is sharp.

Sero currently watches you talk to Denki. Something about a new compound that may need scouting. You've grown so much in just a year or two. In ways, Sero sometimes can't comprehend.

“Mi Amor(my love)” Sero called and you turned. His smiles widens at your own bright one. Denki sees him too, waving his eyebrows before saying goodbye to you and walking off.

You and Sero are dating, and have been since 3ish months after it all started. During one of the scariest movements in your life, you had let out your confession. You, Bakugou, Sero, Denki, and Kiri had been patrolling for food but had come across some twisted people. Something happened, and in the end you’re group had been split up. It was you, Denki, and Sero trapped in a building. Denki had been knocked out, by a rifle butt. You stood at a window, rocking a rather deep slash on your arm. Between you and Sero, there was no real firepower.

“If we make it out of this, we’re going on a date.”

“What?”

“I think I still have some instant ramen in my pack.”

“I wonder if that old ramen shop will still have your favorite kind.”

“You mean the one we got kicked out of?”

“Yeah, that one.” Sero hummed looking towards you. “You wanna go there? I wonder if they still have those seasoning packets.” Sero, Smirked. Remembering the time you snorted the power of one by accident.

“Yeah.” You smiled at him warmly.

“Well, now we gotta get out of here.”

Sero and you danced in the middle of your kitchen. There wasn’t any music, just Sero humming to a song that wouldn’t ever end.

[just-a-carrot]

HELLO CARROT!

Given how apparently I’m immune to playing OW games without recording them now, you’ll audibly hear my thoughts within the next few weeks (I’m posting tomorrow because I’m an absolute maniac), BUT I WANNA SAY THINGS HERE BECAUSE APPRECIATION CAN’T WAIT THAT LONG!

Also Merry Christmas! It’s midnight when I’m writing this, so ‘tis the day of caroling and festivities and woah. Or happy holidays if you don’t celebrate!

Back to the Our Cinderella topic, I have only played Genzou’s route as of now (I’m sure that’s hardly surprising, he is my fav), but the others are next. Their time is coming. They cannot escape. SO SPOILERS FOR GENZOU’S ROUTE!

First off, I saw you included the little dancing in front of TV Iggy pose and the joy I felt seeing it was off the charts. I kept bringing it up, I was very happy. And seeing Iggy moving about was really cool in general, even without the novelty of seeing a suggestion I made exist in the game.

NEXT UP! Genzou drunk singing is an image I didn’t know I needed, thank you for the visual and the brain food. BUT ALSO I HAVE BEEN CONNECTING JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR SONGS TO OW FOR SO LONG AND HEARING THE MUSICAL BE MENTIONED BY GENZOU THREW ME FOR A LOOP. Great musical, very nice. Last Supper reminds me of Genzou and Orlam. Judas’s voice in general reminds me of Orlam. Musicals and OW can further connect in my brain hobby drawer.

The text interactions in general were really funny, actually. I liked the absolute chaos that was Iggy and Genzou’s text conversations, I was laughing while trying to read a lot of the time. I remember the aforementioned drunk singing conversation and the puddle one both got me pretty good while I was reading, and it was overall fun to see more lighthearted conversations from the characters, even if it’s in a different universe from the main canon.

To end things off, ‘cause again 1) I haven’t finished all the game’s routes yet, and 2) you’ll be able to hear my thoughts in the moment if you choose in future anyways, I wanna mention the version of Cinderella Bucks tells at the end? I can’t get it out of my head. When I was thinking about the game after having just played it, my mind kept flashing back to CinderJesus. It absolutely decimated my brain function, but in a very fun way. More slice-of-life Bucks, please, she’s peak comedy.

Very fun game, 10/10, very sad I couldn’t buy the Kirby in the first playthrough but it’s on my to-do list, aaaand yeah! Thank you for making this! I loved every minute of it, and I’m really excited to play the remaining routes once my irl festivities are over.

sob this is so sweet! 😭💕 i'm excited to watch your playthrough too -- things are a bit overwhelming in general for me right now as i'm still with my family and doing a bunch of things, but even if i'm unable to find time this week i will for sure watch once i'm back home next week. i'm really happy that you're enjoying it so much already tho ahhhh and that you're finding it so entertaining 🥺

i'm glad you liked the poses i had so much fun with them and also using some of the suggestions to add more! and LMAO JCS is a musical i grew up watching (my parents used to play the original album in the house lol) so i get the songs stuck in my head a lot, hence why it randomly worked its way into this (among many other random silly little references or inspirations from my own life hahaha). that is extremely funny to me 🤣

i'm glad you liked the convos they were the epitome of silly. and also bucks's part hahaha. i was half-worried it would end up being too ridiculous and random for people because it just got so weird in places hahaha

thank you so much for this lovely message and all of your thoughts and for playing the game! 🥺💕 i look forward to watching the playthrough so i can see all of your reactions in real-time lakjdfs

[eclipse-ofthe-sun]

a case of the sniffles - HOTH au

first proper installment in the History Of The Hero au, a loz links meet au by myself and @grim-demise​

Character key, since this is the first proper post: Link: BOTW, age 24 Mercy: HW, age 32 Mage: ALBW/LA, age 26 Sailor: WW/PH, age 22 Wolf: TP, age 35 Mask: OOT/MM, age 24

References for all of them are in the process of being made, as well as more fics (including how they all came together!) but in the meantime, I do believe this can be enjoyed regardless

Hope you enjoy, and feel free to ask questions if you have any!

---- Lon Lon Ranch is a very peaceful place.

They had arrived in the early hours of the morning, exhausted and dirty from the road. Malon and her family welcomed them in with kindness and care, and they have been doing everything they can to help out around the place in repayment.  

Presently, Malon has Mask aiding in washing all their linens and clothes. They've made a mess of quite a bit, between the six of them. All those muddy boots and grubby tunics, pushing cross-spacetime dirt through everything. Wolf, Mage, and Sailor are out in the ranch proper, tending to the animals - Wolf has lots of experience with it, and is guiding the other two in the husbandry of horses, pigs, and cuccos - while Mercy and Link stay in the kitchen preparing food for everyone. Mercy is sitting at the dining table, cutting vegetable after vegetable after vegetable to prepare for the roasted feast Link has planned. 

While chopping, Mercy thinks about Mask. Watching that boy run about like a puppy, following Malon's every order and request, pulling her chair out to sit at the table for breakfast - he's absolutely smitten. Him and Wolf have been sharing looks all week, little smirks and fond glances and teasings of 'look how cute and sappy your great great great great grandparents are'. Walking through the ranch gates, seeing the way Malon tenderly held his face, only to then pinch his ear and chastise him for running off on some adventure without even telling her; Mercy immediately understood why Mask feels at home here. Why he eventually makes his home here, with Malon. 

Wolf shared with him that particular nugget of knowledge on a starlit night keeping watch together - that he is the descendant of the Hero of Time, who marries a humble farm girl and settles into a life of domesticity. Since then, as well as their conversations around the topic of love and crushes - a conversation which had Mask curling in with embarrassment at her mention - Mercy has thought about the type of woman Malon would be. And after meeting her, he can understand why he loves her - she's strong and passionate and kind. Qualities he loves in his own partner.

He's glad to know that his kid gets a happy ending.

Mercy is three quarters of the way through the carrots when Sailor comes running into the kitchen. At some point during the hot day, he decided to take his shirt off (jacket already down for a wash and repair), scars and tattoos on full display. The largest of them is a sleeve, spiralling sea leviathan curling around his entire right arm and toothy maw open just over his pec. He glances around the room with a look of urgency, before landing on Mercy at the table.

“Oh good! We need a dad. Right now.”

…Okay.

Mercy sighs and stands up, stretching his stiff legs. He moves the already chopped carrots over to Link’s counter and grabs his cane from against the door. 

"What's the problem?" He asks, following Sailor back outside. 

“Something’s up with Mage, but she won’t tell us what - keeps denying anything’s wrong. Being a stubborn little shit about it.” Sailor explains, grumbling the last part out under his breath. “You’re the most authoritative out of all of us, and seem to know how she ticks. If anyone is gonna convince her to take it easy it’d be you.”

Mercy hasn’t known Mage for an awfully long time yet - this journey has only been about six chaotic weeks so far - but there are some things he has picked up. Incredibly smart, insightful, slow to trust but desperate to in the same breath. Snarky and blunt and valuing of the truth. But most of all - a chronic overworker. That girl loves pushing her limits, spending long nights pouring over texts and longer days pouring over the group and their habits and limits and wellbeing. Keeping an eye. A lot of himself is in there, hidden just under the shell, but without the comfort of retirement to soothe it against the weight of the world. They’ve become pretty good at catching each other on their own bad habits, when it gets too much. 

Sailor leads him to the large stables. He can immediately hear an argument inside.

“A will wrestle you tae the ground, don’t think a won’t, Mage. I’m twice your weight.” Wolf threatens. 

“For fuck’s sake, I told you I’m fine!” Mercy and Sailor walk in, and Mage notices immediately. “Oh, fucking hell - what’s all this, huh? Called the fucking dad on me?” 

Mage is leaning against one of the pens, arms crossed and shoulders raised defensively, ears pinned all the way back. Wolf is standing in front of her, frowning disapprovingly with his hands on his hips. It seems they’ve been going in circles for quite a while. 

“That’s exactly what I did. If you wanna throw a tantrum like a toddler and refuse to tell us what’s wrong, then I just have to go and get the guy who actually has a toddler. I’m a genius, I know.” Sailor states, also crossing his arms in triumph. Mage just glares. 

“I’m not ‘throwing a tantrum’, I just wish you’d all stop fuckin’ botherin’ me! I’m completely…” She pauses, and all three of them watch her face as her eyes flutter and breath catches, before the loudest sneeze Mercy’s ever heard rips out of her. And then another, and another. “...fine.” She sniffs.

Right then.

Mercy sighs. He takes a few steps forward, urging Wolf to back up out of her personal space with his left hand. 

“Mage. You’re not ill?”

“No!”

“Okay, then you can come in and help me and Link with the food. Get these guys out of your hair, yeah?” 

Mage glares at him for a second, trying to figure out what the catch is, but he stands strong. After a moment, she sighs and rights herself, loosening her arms just a smidge. Progress. They begin heading back into the house - when he looks over his shoulder back at the other two, Sailor is giving him a thumbs up. He huffs a laugh. 

Once they reach the house, Mercy beelines to the kitchen cupboards and retrieves a glass while Mage stands just through the doorway.

“What can I help with?”

Link looks up from the oven, giving Mage a confused look. Mercy interrupts before he can question anything. 

“You’re going to drink a glass of water in the lounge first. You’ve been out in the sun all day, you’re no doubt getting dehydrated. It’ll be good to sit down for a minute.”

“Why not sit at the kitchen table?” Mage questions.

“Because the lounge is comfier.” 

She follows him into the lounge without protest. Mercy hands her the glass once she’s sat on a sofa, sitting down on the other end himself and waiting patiently. Mage takes a careful few sips, before realising how thirsty she no doubt is, and gulping down the rest. He waits a few moments more before he begins.

“So. What’s going on?”

She groans.

“I knew this was some sort of intervention. Getting me a glass of water an’ shit - I know how this works, asshole.”

He shrugs. “It worked, didn’t it? You were getting overwhelmed back in the stables, and didn’t like how they were pestering you. I’m not pestering you; I’m asking.”

Mage groans again, throwing her head back onto the sofa, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“Have you been overusing your magic? Sneezing isn’t one of your symptoms, last time you mentioned it.”

“No, I haven’t. I’d be coughing if I had.” She says it calmly - tired of the anger of it all, most likely. 

“Are you coming down with something, then?” He scoots a bit closer. “Let me check for fever, please?” 

She grumbles something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘stupid fucking parental instincts’, but moves her head forward to let him check for fever. Nothing. Hmm.

“See, I’m completely healthy. Just the sniffles, innit. Only came on in the stables for no fuckin’ reason.”

Came on in the stables…?

“Mage, do you have a hay allergy?”

The fire that ignites upon her face as she shouts “I DO NOT!” catches Mercy completely off guard. It seems he hit the soft spot this entire charade has been protecting, then. Her head is immediately back up off the sofa, shoulders raised once more like a cat raising its hackles. Definitely hit the sensitive spot. 

“There’s nothing wrong with having hay fever, you know that right?”

“Ugh, but it’s so stupid!! Why am I allergic to fuckin– plants! The outdoors? It’s inconvenient and it hurts my eyes and I hate it! It shouldn’t exist, and so I have decided it doesn’t. I’m fine.”

Mercy sighs for what feels like the hundredth time today. Okay, they’ve identified the problem. They just need to find a solution.

"Link…" He starts.

"Don't you pull out the legal name on me!"

Yet another sigh. He takes a moment to carefully consider his words.

"I understand the inconvenience of pain. It would be infinitely easier if pretending it doesn't exist makes it so, but the truth is that it just... doesn't. It won't." Mercy looks at his cane leant up against the sofa. "Which means you have to acknowledge it head on. Which sucks, especially at the start, but it's the first step to putting things in place to make it easier."

"I don't think a case of the sniffles is the same as your disability, mate."

Mercy shrugs. "It works well enough as a comparison in this scenario. We're talking accommodations. If I were sitting here saying I'm going to ignore my leg pain to lift hay with Wolf, you'd be the first to tell me I'm being stupid. It goes both ways." 

Mage stares at him. She doesn't say anything, but he can see the cogs turning in her head - processing. Or finding a new angle to argue her side - either way, he follows it up with:

"It's perfectly fine to not be able to do everything. That's why we work together." 

Mage groans and throws her head back onto the sofa. Slumps fully into the sofa, even, sliding sideways until she's awkwardly smushed up against his thigh.

"I was midway through creating a potion to ease the symptoms when we were all whisked away - it's a massive pain in the ass when I'm gardening. I forgot to bring my trials with me when we moved eras again. This is all my own damn fault." She sniffs. Even indoors, her nose still seems to bother her.

"I'll let you in on a little secret: when I left the house to go to the market the morning we were dumped in Link's time, I got three streets away from home before realising I left my cane by the door." 

Mage laughs. "Well that would've fuckin' sucked, not having your cane in Walking: The Quest." Mercy laughs with her.

"Tell me about it." He sobers, slightly. "I also would've struggled to let you all know about my chronic issues without it as a visual cue. So don't feel bad about this whole situation, alright? Advocating for yourself is super embarrassing sometimes. Most of the time, actually."

Mage glares up at him. She's fully embraced laying on top of him at this point, wiggling around until she's more comfortably on his thigh, able to look right up at him. 

"Why'd you go and make it serious again? I was just getting over my cringe confession with comedic phrasing." 

"Mage... "

It's her turn to sigh.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Guilt does fuck all, yada yada, ask for help, whatever." 

"Thank you." 

They hold genuine eye contact for all of four seconds before Mage heaves herself up to her feet. And sneezes. Three times.

"Damn, I should not have laid down, man my nose is fucked." 

Mercy stands up beside her. "We'll get you that cure of 'allergic to plant cum' soon enough, don't worry. For now, let's actually go help Link with lunch." 

"Plant cum?! Why would you call it that?!!"

Mercy laughs.

[nancypullen]

Countertop Eve

 I’m as excited as a kid at Christmas. We get our countertops tomorrow! After nine months in this house the kitchen will be finished! I spend a big chunk of my time in that room and it will finally feel like mine.  I cook a lot, I mean a lot, and I like my work space to be pretty and functional.  I don’t think that’s asking too much. These new countertops will stand the test of time. Since we’re on the topic of kitchens and cooking. I have decided that I am part elephant...or maybe panda. They eat tons of veggies and stay plump, and I am living proof that humans can do that too.  Most of my snacks and meals are made up of fruits and veggies.  This is what my cart typically looks like when I’m shopping -

Top to bottom - a bag of apples, blueberries, bananas, broccoli, green beans, romaine, 2 packages zucchini, carrots, celery, there’s a bag of basmati rice, two pounds of lean ground turkey, chicken breasts, and salmon.  Those two cans are extras to go into a big pot of vegetable soup.  Did I also cruise down the candy aisle and pick up a bar of dark chocolate with sea salt? Guilty.  But that cart usually feeds us for a about a week.  It’s not keeping me thin, but it is keeping me healthy. Knock on wood!  I guess I’ll have to be content with that. Quick snack - just cukes with a tiny sprinkle of Maldon salt. I love baby cukes and a big bag is usually under three bucks.

Those green beans? I’ll roast a bunch and eat ‘em for lunch. I spritz just a little olive oil, a sprinkle of sea salt, and then a few shakes of this black urfa chili.  It creates a deep, almost smoky flavor.

I roast them until they’re blistered then I squirt a half tablespoon of garlic aioli (yes, I know I could make my own, but this is soooo easy) into a dish for dipping. I swirl it around to make it look like more - who do I think I’m fooling? It’s delicious.   So 45 calories for the aioli and whatever is in that spritz of olive oil. I probably burn 45 calories loading the dishwasher. 

  Here’s a more fattening veggie dish, but not by much. Slice some zucchini lengthwise, lightly salt it, and leave it to sweat for about 20 minutes. Dab off the water.

Spray a pan with olive oil and plop them in face down until they’re nice and brown.  

Turn them over and pop them into a 400 degree oven for a few minutes. While that cooks, grab some fatty and flavorful toppings.  I chose reduced-fat feta, red pepper flakes, and my bff, garlic aioli.  No, I don’t eat it every day. Only on days when I want to be happy.

A schmear of aioli on the plate is enough.

An extra  sprinkle of red pepper flakes doesn’t hurt either.  When your zucchini is done (we’re talking just a few minutes, you don’t want it mushy!) plate it and give it a crumble of feta and more flakes.

This was a delicious and filling lunch.  Just because I followed it with a square of dark chocolate for dessert doesn’t negate the fact that my lunch was less than 200 calories; 45-ish for the aioli, about the same for the feta, and then the olive oil.   One medium zucchini is 33 calories. I probably burned that while cooking it.  The feta is a good source of B vitamins, calcium and phosphorus - so it’s almost medicine, right?  Like I said, I’m round but very healthy.

That said, it’s time for more water and something yummy for lunch.  Dinner tonight is salmon and roasted broccoli.  Lunch is probably going to be veggies.  Mostly because it’s good for me, but also because my husband can’t stay out of Craft Bakery!!

I think he’s trying to kill me.  He went out this morning to take photos and came home with a haul from the bakery.  My only real weaknesses there are her quiche and the blackout cookies.   This plate doesn’t tempt me.  The quiche is roasted potato, caramelized onion, and cheddar and it’s sitting in the frig calling my name. Pray for my salvation.

Me too, Mae, me too. With that in mind I’m going outside in the sunny 46 degree weather to try to clean up that scraggly tree line and pull some ivy off trees.  I can’t hear the siren song of the frig out there.  I’m thinking of spring and what I want to see when I look out the windows to that back yard.  My itty bitty Jane Magnolia has buds, it survived the winter!  In a few years I’ll have a pretty pink tree out there.  If I want to live to see it I’ll avoid the quiche.  My good genetics can only carry me so far. I hope that you’re having a lovely Thursday and can get outside and turn your face to the sun. We’re already seeing longer days and I’m a fan.  There are daffodils up all over town and that always puts me in a sunny frame of mind. March up here came in like a lamb, so she may exit like a lion - but her sweeter sister, April, is waiting in the wings.  Here comes the sun, folks!

Sending you love & sunshine! Nancy

[sulfur-eyes]

(Reposting this from Twitter) Holiday spirit time babes because I’m stuck thinking about my last post here we go.

Steve is used to spending Christmas by himself, his parents were always somewhere expensive enjoying Sandy beaches and blue oceans while he stayed back because- well they never asked. The last real Christmas he had was when he was maybe 11… or was it 9. He couldn’t remember. Well it’s December again and Steve and Eddie are sitting in the back of his van discussing the holidays and somehow the topic comes up that Steve hasn’t ever had a real ‘family holiday’. With the look Eddie gives him he may as well have kicked a puppy. “What??” He asks, exasperated. “Oh Steve- poor poor Steve.” “I’m fine, Eddie. I’m 20. I don’t NEED Christmas.” He retorts. But Eddie waves him off. “You’re coming to my place for Christmas this year.” “What.” But it’s not up for debate and Eddie would literally steal him from his home to make sure he has a good holiday. Well- if Steve’s going to be here then he’s going to at least show off a little bit. Despite spending Christmas alone he’d managed to always celebrate it at least a little bit. And if Steve could do one thing it was cooking. So imagine Eddie’s surprise when Steve shows up with what could be considered a spread- he had to thank the Munson’s somehow. He cooked entirely too much. After all he had to practically raise himself, he’d found a little love of cooking. He could zone out and listen to ABBA. While chopping onions and carrots. Back to Christmas- Eddie thought he couldn’t love Steve anymore but god to know he could COOK too?? Swoon. The rest of the night goes over about as perfectly as it possibly could. Steve shows Eddie how to make hot chocolate out of real Chocolate rather than just a Swiss miss packet and water. Not that there’s anything wrong with it- but Steve does it ten times better. Once they’ve eaten they both curl up under the same blanket and watch the Christmas toy (yes the muppet one). Their cups now empty. Wayne finds them both asleep, bathed in the warm glow of their Christmas tree lights that Eddie had decorated himself. The credits to the movie are still rolling. He lays another blanket over them before heading to bed himself. And maybe Steve cuddles just a /little/ closer. The next morning they wake to open gifts. Yes Steve makes sure to spoil Eddie with gifts because his love language is gift giving and just because he can and believes Eddie deserves anything he possibly could want. Including tickets to the Metallica concert soon. What a holiday. 🎄The End 🎄I was awake at 3 last night and saw this video and thought ‘Steve would do this’ anyway my threads are a stream of consciousness sorry if it’s not great I usually RP instead :,,) (Video: veevu on tiktok)

[burdhousecookbook]

Scrap Broth

This recipe's a fabulous way to reduce food waste in the home: by turning vegetable scraps and chicken carcasses into hearty broth you can use in whatever! It'll probably take you awhile to accumulate enough scraps to put into a full pot, but when you have them, go for it! I started doing this when we did meal kits, and it's a really lovely way to make something from what would otherwise just be waste!

Needs: A large stock pot or slow cooker A large amount of vegetable scraps/discards (I usually fill a gallon freezer bag and use that much.) (Optional) A rotisserie chicken carcass: the bones, skin, etc

Start saving vegetable scraps from your meal prep and storing them in the freezer. I usually use a gallon freezer bag and just keep it in the freezer til it's full. It's usually a good indicator to me that I have enough to make a pot

See list at bottom for a guide on what's good to save.

Make sure to wash whatever produce you're using, since most of these scraps will be peels or ends of things.

If you eat meat, a rotisserie chicken is a cheap source of protein for other dishes, and all the leftover bones, skin, and other bits add a lot to a broth.

Save the gel out of the bottom of the container and throw the twine in too. It's full of flavor!

Once you get a full bag of scraps and are ready for the long cook, add your ingredients to your big pot with enough water to cover everything, then season to taste:

I usually omit salt since I know I can add it when I cook with the broth later. It keeps me from over-salting.

My go-to seasonings are garlic, sage, rosemary, thyme, celery seed, and bay leaf, but you can also modify it for what you plan to use it for.

I usually splash in some white vinegar too, since it's supposed to help you get more out of the chicken carcass.

If using the stovetop, bring to a simmer for an hour or until the flavor and color comes out in the broth. If you cook it too high and the liquid gets low, just add more water.

If using the slow cooker, try low for 7-8 hours.

When you're satisfied with your broth, strain it through a fine sieve to separate the broth from the scraps. You can skim off any fat and scum as it cools.

The broth freezes well if you're not planning to use it immediately!

Worthwhile scraps guide:

Great to save: Carrot peels and ends Celery ends Onion/shallot peels/ends Asparagus ends Mushroom stems Garlic peels/ends/tops Tomato (de-seed to prevent bitterness) Zucchini ends Corn cobs Leftover fresh herbs (Rosemary, thyme, etc) Ehhhh, maybe? - • These can make broth a bit starchy, but can be good anyway. Winter squash peels and pulp Sweet potato peels Potato peels What to skip: Anything that's gone off. If you wouldn't consider eating it, toss it. Brassicas - Most of the vegetables in this family can turn a broth bitter which you don't necessarily want. Most other leafy greens - They can also make for a bitter broth or just don't add much flavor. Bell Peppers - They can make stock a little funky and bitter. Personally, I take a lot of guidance from this blog post on the topic: [x]

[thisislizheather]

March Magic 2023

Above Photo: Nothing better than this view

I do a million things the month of my birthday and I never regret it. Some people roll their eyes at the phrase “birthday week” or “birthday month” but those people tend to be supremely unhappy and I express my sympathy towards them. Here’s what happened in the birthday month!

The best tweets of the month can be found over here.

I recapped how I did with my winter list of things to do.

I made my new seasonal spring list of things I’d like to do.

Loving the new tomato leaf candle from Trader Joe’s as well as the great new sweet carrot cake from Bath & Body Works.

Above Photo: Tomato leaf candle from Trader Joe’s, March 2023

Above Photo: Sweet carrot cake candle from Bath & Body Works, March 2023

Ice skating in March with friends? Always a good idea.

Above Photo: 75% of us bought skates for this hahahah, it’s called FRIENDSHIP

You know the food blog Grandbaby Cakes? She just put out a new cookbook and the two main things I want to make from it? The salted butterscotch apple whiskey snacking cake as well as the chocolate pecan pie shortbread bars. 

If you have a NYC/Queens/Brooklyn library card, are you aware that you can get free tickets to museums all over the city?

I have made this chicken marsala at least three times this month, it might be my favourite way to eat chicken.

Above Photo: Chicken marsala should legally be eaten once a week

I bought this Banana Republic Factory funnel-neck sweater in black as well as white because it legit makes me feel like I have a 401k.

I know zero about coffee, but I’ve done this heating-the-press up method a few times now when I make iced coffee and I think it might taste better when you do it?? Nathan claims there’s no difference, so I might just be argumentative?

In love with the tomato potato chips from Eataly.

Above Photo: Available at Eataly, NYC

Will I ever use this pasta mold from Zara Home - or will I watch it sit on a kitchen shelf each day for twenty years while I yearn to be the type of person who uses a pasta mold?

Love this short article: Want to Lead a Better Life? The Secret Is in the Cemetery.

I had brunch at Quality Eats and the short rib hash was great, but really just inspired me to make it at home.

Above Photo: Short rib hash, Quality Eats

In birthday discount news…

Are you aware that Target gives you a measly 5% off one item on your birthday?! It’s so insulting, I wish they’d just do away with it altogether, it’s pathetic. Why are brands becoming such ingrates when it comes to customer loyalty?

I went to Ulta for my free March birthday gift and they were “out of stock” at TWO locations. And nothing was offered in its place. SWEET.

Milk Bar is supposed to offer some kind of birthday something, but since their loyalty “program” is so new, none of the employees have been taught what the benefits of the program even are. WHAT IS HAPPENING?? (Sidenote: am I the only one who think their cookies suck?)

You know the bra store I love, Journelle? They got rid of their birthday month discount, too! So I guess all these companies have decided that our collective slow march towards death with include ZERO BIRTHDAY PERKS. Cool cool cool.

I tried the crab rangoon March special at Mimi Cheng’s and they were only all right, why is everything disappointing me lately? They weren’t terrible, just too cream-cheesy. While we’re on the topic, on what planet does crab need cheese to accompany it? Seems dumb.

Above Photo: March Special (crab rangoon dumplings), Mimi Cheng’s

I also tried this newish Croatian restaurant in Astoria, Selo, and it was absolutely nothing special. I may have to stop giving such credence to the critics at Eater.

My niece Layla got me an incredible birthday gift - a ticket to Tao of Glass, which the New York Times called “a fantastical and often moving tribute to the composer Philip Glass and the power of art to flow through our lives.” IT WAS SO GOOD. Philip Glass was even there on opening night, which was too exciting and I was floored by the whole evening. God, I love it when someone knows you so well and can arrange the most perfect gift.

Above Photo: March 2023

I bought new jeans after maybe a decade and I can’t be more in love with these ribcage straight ankle Levi’s I got.

Some things I’ve watched: 

Tusk: I absolutely hate when American directors talk about Canada in their films, it’s always embarrassing. And jesus, the dialogue in the scene with the girlfriend: has Kevin Smith ever spoke to a girlfriend before? Needless to say, I severely hated the entire movie. I hate torture stuff. Weird that even needs to be said because doesn’t everyone? Johnny Depp was terrible. One of the most originally awful movies I’ve ever seen.

Scream VI: THE WORST SCREAM OF THE ENTIRE SERIES. I vowed not to even see this because I remain #teamneve but Nathan insisted so I begrudgingly went. What a shit show. It was terrible. I’ll never go to another one again, which is a little sad but also fuck everyone involved who thought it was an acceptable idea to move forward without Neve Campbell.

Frantic: I didn’t even know it was a Polanski movie until the end since Harrison Ford was the main draw here. It’s actually a great idea for a movie, but it just trails off midway through so I can understand why no one talks about this movie.

Succession: So I’ve only seen the first few episodes and here’s the thing… it’s legitimately a bad show. The dialogue is so terribly written, I’m actually confused why people praise it so much. NOBODY CALLS THEIR SIBLING SIS. Words can’t express how much I hate the camera work. Shiv’s American accent is wildly bad. I know we’re all desperate for a good show to watch, but the lies need to stop. This is unwatchable.

I’m not sure that I can even speak about it, but I went to a private rehearsal of a play with Michael McKean and good god, I love that man. I met him afterward and he was so kind and lovely, it was unreal. I mean, it’s Mr. Green for god’s sake.

So in love with these new USPS railroad station stamps. I may or may not have made a list of where each station is incase I ever find myself in that city so I can see it in real life.

Above Photo: Can I meet and hug the person who came up with this stamp idea?

I’ve been looking for a real fur coat for a few years now and I finally found her at Exile Vintage in Toronto. It was such a steal because the inner lining was shred, but my mom sewed it all up and it’s absolutely perfect now. So excited to throw out my faux-fur teddy bear coat from Marshalls that every. single. woman. owns.

There was an insane sale at Steve Madden in Soho and I got these new wedge heels for $16. To be clear, that’s $8 PER SHOE.

Above Photo: But can they replace my Terminators? Time will tell.

I saw the new Broadway play Shucked and… yikes. Yes, it was corniness taken to a whole new level, but parts of it were okay. If you love Rodney Dangerfield jokes, then this production was made for you.

Above Photo: March 2023

I also saw Pictures From Home with Nathan Lane and it was slow at first, but really picked up and got good. Love that man.

Above Photo: March 2023

I made a tres leches cake and words cannot describe how heavenly it was. Even if you suffer from dairy issues, I’d recommend that you pound a few Lactaids and eat this immediately.

Above Photo: Tres leche cake

I finally had lunch at Wayan (Jean-Georges’ son’s place) and I can’t wait to return. Best dishes: the corn fritters, the spring rolls (maybe my favourite at any restaurant ever), the lamb kebabs and the chocolate chip cookie with cheddar ice cream. The crab fried rice (which I was most excited for) actually wasn’t anything that special, though.

I had my birthday dinner at The Grill in the Seagram Building (the office building from Scrooged) and it was so great, if not insanely priced. The pasta appetizer was the most incredible thing we ate - they used this crank-type machine table-side to make the broth for the pasta sauce out of MEAT BONES and I can’t stop thinking about it. The other highlight was the gluten-free zucchini cornbread, which was magical. The only downside? Do not get the crab cake - $50+ for the most underwhelming appetizer of your life.

Above Photo: Pasta appetizer, The Grill (a must order)

Above Photo: Vowing to wear more tulle on a daily basis

The Mets promotional giveaways were announced if you care!

Some spring recipes I’d love to make:

Lemony Green Pea Fritters with Cottage Cheese

Banana, Pecan, Coconut and Chocolate Chip Blondies

Cadbury Egg Blondies (I’ve never even made a blondie before, but the urge is strong this season)

Lemon Almond Pudding Cake (love a texturally weird cake)

Carrot Cake Ice Cream (no ice cream maker needed)

Spring Couscous Bowls with Lemon Feta Vinaigrette (I made this last year and it’s spring in a bowl)

Things I’m looking forward to: I visited the insanely gorgeous Kings Theatre in Brooklyn so I’ll do a post about it this week, finally trying the bone marrow gravy at Hawksmoor, I have to get my hands on the Easter Dove Milk Chocolate and Peanut Butter Eggs, I’m trying to get a last minute lottery to see the Phantom of the Opera in its final days, I will find all of the NYC cherry blossoms, seeing the rooftop exhibit when it opens at The Met on the 18th, and finally going on a tour of the old City Hall subway station (this has been a dream of mine for years).

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in February over here.

Above Photo: Baby Dog witnesses snow, March 2023

[rebelwheelssoapbox]

Harold Had A Shit Day: A Fox Tale (inspired by the song “In The Woods Somewhere” by Andrew Hozier Byrne)

a short story by Michele Kaplan (@RebelwheelsNYC )

[image description: The background is a photo of a misty forest with tall trees of lush green and browns. There is a path in the middle. and a silhouette of a fox. the fox silhouette is filled with a photo from space, with. blues and purples with white stars. It gives the fox this cosmic feel. The text on top reads “Harold had a shit day. a fox tale inspired by the song ‘in the woods somewhere’ by andrew hozier byrne. “ Lastly, in the lower right hand corner is the text @ rebel wheels nyc] “Ah, human. I did not expect to see you so soon in these woods. You have come because of the lore of this forest, Did you bring the crudités as requested? What? No one told you? Then why did you come? Why are you  here? Ah, I see. You are lost. That is a shame, as I could really go for some of those carrots sticks with the hummus, I do enjoy a good hummus and alas while this ancient forest holds many charms and delights, a good hummus is not one of them, but what can you do? What is the matter, human? Why so pale? Why, you're practically trembling.  Ah, I see. You have you never seen a talking fox before? That it's impossible? Oh, that is a good one. Humans humans humans, such silly little mortals. Your kind thinks they know so much about the world, when it is your kind that knows the least. Sit down, and I shall tell you a story. Soon my kindred will be here and they will guide you out of the forest. Alas. I'm afraid such things are not yet my forte, While I am studying the topic, I have never actually...  no, no I couldn't, it is best for us to wait. I do wish you had brought some crudités. I am rather famished. Oh no, don't worry, human. You are safe. Our kind stopped eating humans centuries ago. You'll be fine. Now, where were we? Ah yes, a story. Oh, for fox sake! Forgive me, for I have not introduced myself. I do apologize. A week ago I had a bit of an... accident. My leg as you can see is still healing. An unfortunate occurrence at the hands of your kind, but I suppose we can't hold that against you. And it has apparently made me rather... absent minded. My name is Sionnach Síoraí An Seachtú Réalt Díreach Ó Thuaidh Ón Tríú Cnoc is Fiche Áit a Rialaíonn Go Réidh An Bó Mór, Buaibheach Dhiaga na Réalt Thuaidh Cónaíonn. It translates to Eternal Fox Of The Seventh Star Directly North From the Twenty-Third Hill Where the Great Cow Goddess, The Divine Bovine of the Northern Fields Who Gently Rules Resides, but you can call me Harold. It was three days past the last waning moon of your October, when I was making my way through these woods, While directions may not exactly be my strength, I am quite adept at gathering berries and plants from the forest. They were needed for soon The Ancient Forest Collective would be celebrating The Great Feast where we praise and honor The Redwood Rebellion of Before Times.

Let me ask you a question, Have you ever had one of those days? A day where nothing catastrophic per se occurs, but a shit day nonetheless. A day where you probably would have been better off staying home, but alas such was not an option? The day did not start well. I woke up late, after a troubled nights sleep, completely forgot that I had to forage that morning for the upcoming feast, at a spot no less, that is five miles from my home, by foot. I spent 20 minutes frantically searching for my keys, just to find they were in my pocket, and to top it off, I tripped – twice while rushing to my foraging spot. There was no rock that I stumbled over. It was just one of those mornings.

So there I was, gathering rhubarb and mustard greens, my beloved loves mustard greens, when I heard this loud SNAP! And this pain... this sudden gnawing pain in my leg. I looked down and saw that I was caught in one your kind's hunting traps. For fox's sake! I said to myself. I mean, how it got there, I don't know. Yes, since stories about these woods have become popular, there has been a minor increase of your kind, but they bring crudités, not old traps from the before time. And so I called out an ancient cry for help. I sang 'Ó, a chairde iontacha an chomhchoiteann! Iad siúd a bhfuil baint agam le síoraí. tar go tapa le do thoil go bhfuil duine eile ag seacáis tar éis ceann de na seanghaistí seilge seo a fhágáil agus mo chos greamaithe! Cac, nimhneach seo. Beir leat mo mhála luibheanna le do thoil! Freisin Má tá aon mhaidí cairéad fágtha bheadh sé sin go deas freisin. A Dhia, is mian liom go raibh hummus againn. ” Which roughly translates to ‘Oh, great friends of the collective! Those with whom I am eternally connected. Please come quick! Another jackass has left one of these old hunting traps and my leg is stuck! Shit, this hurts. Please bring my bag of herbs! Also If there are any carrot sticks left over that would be nice too. God, I wish we had hummus.’ Anyway, while I awaited the arrival of the collective, all of a sudden, I heard this... rustling... this crisp crunching of the fallen leaves on the forest floor. Which of course, one hears all the time in these months, but what made it peculiar, what made it almost... echo in one's mind... as if the ancestors were telling me to focus on this sound, as if it was of some importance, as if it someone was running ... but with ... only two legs? Who... what could it be? Even The Great Bears Of The East, who will occasionally walk on their hind legs when imitating your kind. 'Look at me, I'm a human. La la la la lá.' Oh goddess, it gets me every time. I'm not doing it justice. Well, even they don't run like that. So you can imagine my surprise, when all of a sudden, I saw this human. I shrieked, so loud, it echoed throughout the forest. It's just... forgive me, but your kind is strange to look at. Your bodies appear as if they are balding from your fur, like you survived some horrific accident and lost it as a result. You are wearing clothes, so you can't tell, not really, but this person was not wearing much. It just seems wrong.

Anyway, sadly, this person – much like yourself - did not have any crudités. I mean what the fuck does a fox have to do to get a platter around here? With all the powers that we have, the fact that we can't use them to manifest a goddess damned plate of vegetables, with a decent bowl of hummus is a cruel joke. The Great Cow Goddess has a dark sense of humor, it is known. Blessed be.

I digress. Lack of crudités aside, I gazed into the eyes of this troubled soul. They were frenzied, fevered, and unwell to say the least. There was just something very... ominous about their energy. They weren't... bad per se... not at their root, but they weren't in a place to make good decisions either. Upon peering more deeply into their mind, it became clear that his state was ... oh, was far worse than it had initially appeared. He was hallucinating some awful things.

Funny story, one time I was hallucinating and I saw these adorable rainbow bunnies, with unicorn horns, doing the cha cha cha with chubby marshmallows while listening to The Dancing Bears. The Bears Of The East have this fantastic Grateful Dead cover band and one time they ... er well, I digress. The human's breath reeked  that of one who had carelessly nibbled on the Copelandia that grows towards the west. His pupils, like two black moons. It was then that I realized that this human was going to kill me... or well... attempt to anyway. I mean, can you believe that? But a mercy killing he was calling it. I mean for fox's sake. Oh, forgive me for laughing, but the layers, like a trifle of absurdity. I mean, for fox's sake, I'm eternal. The sheer and outright pomposity, to assume that their help was even needed in the first place. Humans. Meanwhile, said poor soul was hallucinating this fierce snarling beast that was supposedly behind me. With breath steaming and putrid, and with teeth large, bloody and with a veracious hunger ... for death. A beast that could kill you quickly, but did it slowly because they enjoyed watching you suffer. So dramatic! Oh, forgive me, I don't mean to laugh, but there was no such beast. Great Goddess, you humans can not handle your Copelandia. We take it, we go dancing in the moonlight, and have a good time, Your kind takes it and all hell breaks loose. Anyway, I went even deeper into his mind, and realized he wasn't even seeing me... well, he saw me, but not me as is.. not me as I actually was. Yes, I was somewhat injured, but he was hallucinating a far worse situation. What was simultaneously troubling and yet fascinating, was that what he was seeing, was a projection... a manifestation if you will, of various parts of his psyche. Parts of him that he loathed ... parts of him that he feared. Of his own perceived weakness (me, injured), of his own perceived sin & evil (the murderous beast). It was curious for in that moment, he was pitying me, while I pitied him. I suppose in my favor, when he lunged at ,me, he didn’t even come close. He thought he was close, but alas he struck the hallucination, not actually me. Mind you, that was not by chance. If you think I'm going to peer into someone's mind and not alter things in the name of my ... well, not my survival, but certainly my immediate well being, well then my name is not  Sionnach Síoraí An Seachtú Réalt Díreach Ó Thuaidh Ón Tríú Cnoc is Fiche Áit a Rialaíonn Go Réidh An Bó Mór, Buaibheach Dhiaga na Réalt Thuaidh Cónaíonn! And still with all these powers, I still can't manifest a single bowl of hummus... You know, I must say, you humans, have really lost your way... lost connection from your roots. There was a time when, me and you would not have been so different but well... that is another story, I suppose. Anyway, while I did manage to dodge this human's “merciful” wrath, I was still in the trap, which hurts more than one would think, Thankfully my kindred heard my call, and arrived once the human fled to chase after “the beast”, Ah, the poor soul. Meanwhile, not only did my lovely kindred free me from the trap, brought the herbs needed to in time heal me, but they brought me carrots sticks to snack on. Leftovers from the last gifted platter. It was very moving. I need a moment. Okay no, I’m fine. I’m fine, And speaking of which, they're supposed to be here by now. I don't know where they are and I do really need to get going... oh, but I can't very well just leave you here, can I.  I mean I can, but that would be a bit of a dick move on my part. I mean, I have been studying directions and cosmic transportation, so I could give it a go? Ooh, it feels precarious, but ... eh, why not.  At worst, you'll end up in a parallel universe, but you'll get home eventually. Hmm? Oh, nothing. I was saying how the universe loves you, as they love us all. Let's give it a shot, shall we? Carpe diem! Come now. Stand still. Now listen closely, I need you to click your feet three times and repeat after me: ‘Níl aon áit cosúil le baile. Níl aon áit cosúil le baile. Níl aon áit cosúil le baile.' Oh, Goddess I always wanted to do it. Sorry, sorry, I apologize. But thank you for repeating it after me That was fantastic. Sorry, that was from The Wizard Of Oz. You know, 'there's no place like home'. Alright, sorry. No, I'll be serious. Okay so, human, No, seriously this time. You have my word. You will hear a low humming that will vibrate through you, It will not harm you. Close your eyes and let it take you home... hopefully. Good luck!” And as the ancient humming began, as you travel back to where you came, the last words you hear  echoing in these ancient forests, “Ooh, I think I did it. Yay! I mean... do not return to these woods, human...  but if you do, next time at least bring a good hummus.” The End (Author’s Note: While I thoroughly appreciate Hozier’s musical and activist related existence, there’s always been this one song that I could never fully enjoy. Musically, ‘In The Woods Somewhere’ is lovely. I can also appreciate that the lyrics are, if what I read on the internet was accurate, was inspired by Dante’s Inferno. It’s just the fox. I get too emotionally attached to the fox. And so one night, while a bit under the weather, my brain started thinking about the song and thought “That fox had a really shitty day.” My brain proceeded to create a whole backstory, as my brain tends to do. And while at first, it seemed too silly to let it be more than just a random thought in my head, the week was a weird one, so I thought fuck it and made it into a short story. Because Hozier is from Ireland, I decided that when Harold speaks in another language, it should be Irish. But also because Ireland has this somewhat mystical connotations, I thought I’’d have a bit of fun with that, As an example, the ancient call of help to the collective, which when translated is really not mystical at all. But also this story is just written with my own sense of humor. That said, I am not the least bit fluent in Irish, so hopefully Google Translate has not done me wrong lol.

You can hear the song here and read the lyrics on this site. Viva La Harold & The Ancient Forest Collective . Let me know what you think in the comments below.)

[nymphbnny]

jealousy, jealousy

MINORS DNI // 18+

genre: nsfw

pairings: nanami kento x female reader

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: dilf nanami, breeding kink, cockwarming, choking kink, oral receiving (male), unprotected sex, lots of teasing.

synopsis: you’ve been married to nanami for six years and have been gifted with two beautiful children. you were living the perfect life with the perfect husband and you couldn’t ask for more. however, after missing a great event that was more than important for nanami, you find yourself getting the silent treatment for a week, well that, after you decide to make it up to him.

I was done setting the table by the time the kids were done playing together in their room. I removed my apron and tossed it over on the granite counter, my hands clapping together. “Dinner is ready!” I yelled, an instant sound of rushing footsteps grew on the staircase. I chuckled to myself as I watched my grown babies sit in their seats and wait for their father to come home.

Speaking of which…

“Daddy!” Amara pushed her chair away from the kitchen table and ran up to the door that was just unlocked by Nanami. He was holding his suitcase in hand, hair’s a mess. He looks like he had a tough day as he tiredly removed his glasses and sat them next to his car keys. “Hey, my little girl.” He smiled down at her and lifted her up against his side, placing a sweet kiss on her head. She gushed hugging his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.

“Father father!” Yuji ran up to him, jumping on his other side, Kento not finding any difficulty to hold him up. “How’s my little champion?” He kissed his head and walked to the kitchen. I felt a knot form in my stomach when he greeted me with a cold expression on his face. He gently put down our kids who each went back to sit in their chairs, their food already on their plate. He walked past me, a small ‘hi’ leaving his lips. I bit the inside of my cheeks, my hand pushing the chair back before taking a seat.

“Daddy, aren’t you going to kiss mommy?” Amara pointed out with a pouty face, her fork in her hand. Kento gave her a small chuckle and bent down to leave a dry kiss on my temple. He took the seat that was across me next to our daughter and dipped in his food. “I helped mommy cut the vegetables.” She waved her food, showing him the nicely cut carrot. He ruffled his hand in her hair and kept eating.

Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours. I was struggling to find a topic to abroad because I knew that he’d ignore me. Hell, he’s been sleeping on his side of the bed with his back turned to me. Every time I would try to cuddle up against him or touch him, he’d swat my hand away or ask me to leave him alone. The irony in all of this is that I apologized, several fucking times. I know it was my fault but shit happens and honestly, he’s just being petty.

He’s acting as if I didn’t hear him jerk off in our bedroom two days ago, trying to hold his moans and whimpers. He’s so petty that he chose to fist his cock instead of fucking me.

“Mommy, will you pick me up from school tomorrow?” Yuji asked, his mouth full. I ran my hand up to his hair and chuckled. “Of course honey, and stop eating with your mouth full.”

“Let’s hope you don’t forget about that either.” Kento scoffed, stuffing his mouth. “Oh excuse me were you talking to me?” I sarcastically stated with a fake smile. He glanced at me with half-lidded eyes then looked back down at his dish. “I asked you a question you-“

“Not in front of the kids.” he cut me off, wiping his mouth with a tissue. Yuji looked up at me with a worried expression but I immediately pinched his chubby cheek making him giggle. When dinner was finally over, each one of us placed his empty plate in the sink and Kento went to put the kids to bed tonight.

*in the kids’ bedroom*

“Come on my sweet angel, time to sleep.” he reached over to turn off the tiny lamp that was sitting on his daughter’s nightstand, but she grabbed his arm making him look at her. “Are you mad at mommy?” He frowned caressing her cheek before he glimpsed at his son’s bed to notice Yuji eavesdropping into the conversation. “No baby.” he smiled poking her nose. “But she was talking on the phone with auntie Nobara last night and started crying because you weren’t talking to her.” Amara’s eyes got teary and her lips formed into a pout.

“Misunderstandings happen. I still love your mommy very much. She’s my sunshine. You got nothing to worry about.” she smiled as Yuji clapped his hands together, Kento smiling at them before kissing them good night.

*in the bedroom*

I combed my hair in front of my vanity, the sound of the door opening making me scoff. I glimpsed at his reflection in the mirror, his hands going up to unbutton his blue dress shirt before taking it off completely and throwing it on the couch. He sighed unbuckling his belt then unzipped his pants. I applied my moisturizer to my face, gently massaging my muscles. His pants were now off, his phone in hand as he stood half-naked behind me. I pushed myself off my chair, tightening my robe around me. I was wearing my white lace underwear and tank top hoping I’d get Kento’s attention. I gently removed my robe off my body and walked past him, my shoulder bumping into him. As soon as I reached our bathroom, I could still feel him stare at my ass so I purposely knocked off my toothbrush and bent over to grab it, my ass up and my clothed cunt exposed.

I could swear I heard him groan but I brushed it off and picked it back up, placing it back upon the sink. I played with the elastic of my underwear, pulling it up, the fabric squeezing my pussy and making it more visible. As I was about to throw my leg over the mattress, his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against him, my back colliding with the wall. I decided to give him a taste of his medicine and scrunched up my face, my hands pushing his shoulders to get him off me. “You know that I’m stronger.” he teased, his eyes still full of anger.

“Oh so now you want to talk to me? Well too bad because I don’t.” I threw him a fake smile and tilted my head. He gripped my jaw in his hand and forced me to look at him. “You have no room to be pissed. You know how much this event meant to me, how much I worked my ass off to represent it and you still fucking missed it. And for what.” he clenched his jaw. “For a stupid birthday party of that coworker of yours who can’t keep his eyes off of you. You do realize he wants to get in your pants right? But no,” he taunted with a dry chuckle. “You don’t mind him flirting with you or at least you don’t seem to set any boundaries at all.” he sternly scowled.

Damn. He was pissed.

“I said I was sorry. What else do you want me to do? Tell me. I forgot I’m sorry and it’s not like I care or even give a shit about that dude. You’re my husband and the father of my children and the only man I want to feel inside me.” his eyes were slowly turning into lusty ones. “It won’t happen again,” I softly added, my hand cupping his cheek.

He sighed and looked down, his hands resting on each side of my head. “I don’t know if I can forgive you.” I cocked my eyebrow. “You know what,” I moved my hands to push at his chest. “Let me go.”

“I can’t. You belong to me.” He cupped my cheeks and kissed my lips. I tried to hold back but failed miserably as I kissed him back my fingers running through his blond hair. “I missed you,” he kissed my neck. “I missed holding you,” he kissed my collarbone and toyed with the hem of my tank top. “I missed feeling you,” his finger traveled down my thigh to dip into my clothes cunt. An involuntary moan escaped my lips. I slapped myself internally for making it so easy on him.

“And yet, you chose to be petty and jerk off instead of fucking me.” I scoffed swatting his finger away from me. He cocked his eyebrow before wrapping his hands around my wrists and pushing me onto the bed. “And who’s fault is that?” he scowled crawling over me. I scoffed and pointed at him, my finger gently poking his chest. “Okay then., have it your way.” He removed himself from me and lied down before taking his reading glasses and his book.

Really? Is he trying to guilt-trip me?

Babe, what do you mean guilt-tripping? You’re in the wrong. I mentally rolled my eyes and smirked once the idea popped into my head. I slid my hand down his inner thigh then threw my leg over his lap, slowly moving my body backward. He didn’t seem to mind as he kept reading, casually turning the page. We’ll see how long it takes you to crack.

I palmed my hand over his clothed cock, gently giving it a few rubs and squeeze. I smiled at myself once he started to get hard under my touch, taking it as my cue to pull the fabric down and stroke him with my hand. He slightly shifted, his eyes glancing over the book and I could tell he was resisting the urge to push himself down my throat.

I kept on pumping him, trying to earn any reaction from him. I spat on his tip and licked his slit, his thighs twitching. I sucked on his pink tip as my hand gently went down to squeeze his balls. I looked at him to see him hiding behind this stupid philosophical book. I took him further down, my hand pumping what I couldn’t fit. I could feel that he wanted to come but he wouldn’t get himself to groan like he usually did, or even lace his fingers in my hair to guide me.

‘Whatever’ I thought to myself as I removed this dick from my mouth. His hand reached out to grab my hair and pull me back down to take him down my throat, gagging noises filling the room as I tried to breathe. “I didn’t say you were done.” he scowled, moving my head up and down his shaft, casually making my nose hit his abdomen. He began moving his hips upwards, fucking himself into my mouth. His cock twitched inside my mouth, my cheeks hollowing to bring him closer to his orgasm. I was able to see how he threw his head back, a hand placed on his eyes as he panted and his toned chest moving up and down. He finished in my mouth, his cum dripping from the corners of my mouth along with my saliva as I swallowed the semen that went down my throat. I wiped my mouth with my thumb and pushed in the excess. We stared at each other for a minute before I decided to speak up:

“So now you wanna give me attention? Could have just told me you wanted to get your dick sucked.” I rolled my eyes. He sat up, his hand gripping my throat. “Drop the attitude. You’re the one who started sucking me off. Did you really think that I just wanted to get my dick wet?” he gripped harder. I shook my head and he released me from his grip.

“Can you blame me? I fucking missed you. It was the only way you’d actually talk to me.” I scoffed going to removed myself from him, but he pulled me closer. “Then show me how much you missed me.” He lied back on his elbows and waiting for my next move.

I knew we would have to talk about it later, but we were both equally tensed and angry. The only way we’d actually let go of this anger is if we fuck it out. Then we discuss it.

I smirked squatting over his hips and pushed my panties aside guiding his tip to my entrance. My cunt was already throbbing from how rough he was being with me so I had no problem sinking unto his fat cock. My walls spasmed around him as I moaned, my hands gripping onto his legs for support, my legs spread open for him. His hands moved to caress my thighs before squeezing them.

I lifted my hips up before bringing them back down, doing my best to avoid harsh contact with his skin so I don’t wake the kids. “Shit…” I whined, my hips occasionally rolling as I bounced on him, his eyes never leaving mine. “Missed my cock?” he teased rising his hips up to fuck himself deeper in me. I nodded biting my lip to avoid making any loud obscene sounds. “Fuck, still tight as ever.” He reached over to grip my hips and guide me, my legs almost giving out from how good he was making me feel.

My eyes rolled to the back, his tip rubbing over my spongy spot repeatedly. He sat up and flipped up over, his body now pressed against mine. He lifted one leg up and wrapped it around his waist as he thrust himself in me, his lips capturing mine in a passionate kiss.

“Kento…” I moaned out, my nails digging in his back as he kept ramming himself in me. “So good…”

“Wanna give me another baby?” he breathed against my ear, his thrusts relentless. “Gonna breed you so well.” he groaned his hips hitting mine and at this point, I’d be surprised if we weren’t being loud. My walls tightened around him, choking him as I came around him. He muffled my moans with his mouth, my back arching off the bed making my clothed chest rub against him.

His hand went to squeeze my breast through my tank top and bit down my neck, his cock buried deep within me. His strokes turned sloppy and he groans louder. Kento emptied himself in me, his cum filling me. My arms wrapped around him as I enjoyed the feeling of having him close to me. We stayed still for a while, his limp dick still warming me as he embraced me in his arms.

“You know I love you, I just got jealous. You know married couples tend to lose interest in each other after having kids and having to take care of them,” he confessed, his head lying on my chest. I stroked his cheek, my palm running over his strong cheekbone. “I still love you, more than anything else. I can’t believe how lucky I got. You’re the best husband, and the best father.” he looked up at me with a smile on his face before leaning in to kiss me. “We need to shower and change the sheets, you drenched them,” he stated, my cheeks erupting in flames. He pulled out, a wince leaving my lips as I felt our cum leak down my thighs onto the bed. “Now we definitely need to.” I chuckled and grabbed onto his neck as he lifted me up in bridal to the bathroom.

[lemonjoonah]

The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).  

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...  

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?”  You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.”  The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry.  “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”  

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.  

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”  

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head.  “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose?  “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside.  Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”      

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a  sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a  warm and earthy scent envelopes you.  His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.  

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel.  Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it  you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid.  “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin.  “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod.  A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.  

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.  

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth.  He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts.  And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.  

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”  

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.  

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”  

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom.  A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.  

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - Chapter 7:  A Most Special Gift

*Full disclosure, I do not know a whole lot about horses. I know people who raise the Gypsy Vanner breed (GRIN Ranch in SC), which is known to be very personable and highly intelligent. They are bred for their strength (mainly to pull the gypsy caravans), but they are not necessarily known for their speed. So I invoke the “suspension of belief” clause for my story. (This is fiction, after all, right?)

Summary: Arthur finds the perfect gift for you while he is out

Warnings: Mild swearing, fluff

**This is NOT my image. This belongs to the Lex Lin Gypsy Ranch. They are a breeder out of TN. Check them out! https://www.gogypsy.com/news/horses/blue-steele/

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   For once, Arthur could say he is having a good day. He is out and about, finished with the latest scout and taking his time to head back to camp. He doesn't get much time for himself, so he's more than happy to take the long route home. The weather is warm, and the sun is in and out of the most billowy white clouds in a crystal blue sky. The breeze dances across his exposed skin, with his black shirt rolled up to his forearms and the first few buttons undone around his neck and chest. 

   It's quiet as he leads his horse over the meadows. He inhales deeply, picking up hints of the wildflowers that are scattered about. He is trying to see if he can remember what some of them are. He's been taking you out of camp lately to forage for the plants and herbs you use in your medicines. Any excuse to be alone with you, really, so he may bring you out here. The little yellow ones are Lady's Bedstraw, he thinks. He remembers that one because its fragrance reminds him of hay. The white ones are wild carrot. "Looks like a bird's nest, doesn't it?" you had asked him once, showing him the delicate plant cradled in your hands. Arthur smiles to himself as he remembers the conversation. He finds it adorable that you will share any topic of conversation with him, whether you feel he'd be interested in it or not. Hosea had always tried to teach him about these plants when he was young, but he never really cared too much for it. But now, the subject seems all the more interesting...or maybe it is the teacher?

   As Arthur comes up over a small hill, a flash of something catches his eye off in the distance to his right. As he turns his head, he quickly realizes its a horse. A lone animal, no rider, no tack on its back, just by itself. Arthur halts his own horse to look at the one he has just found. Its rather large, a beautiful silvery grey in color. He quickly notices the long mane and tail it has and the shaggy feathering that starts at the knees and hocks. "Where in the hell did you come from?" he quietly wonders out loud. He watches it as it prances about, almost skipping. Every once in awhile it rears up slightly to almost hop about. He swears its dancing if it was a person. Arthur watches it in bewilderment. This is the most striking thing that he has ever seen. Well, almost...there is one other thing that has recently captured his attention like this. And his lips pull back into an ever-so-slight smile as he gets an idea forming in his mind.

   Arthur pulls his rope off of his saddle, keeping his movements slow and fluid as to not spook the horse. He slowly dismounts and walks tentatively forward in the horse's direction. It notices his approach now, its head jerking up sharply to watch him. "Woa, now....easy does it", his voice low and calm. His hands start to work the rope into a loop, creating the slack he'll need to throw. He moves quietly, circling around to the side of the horse, never taking his eyes off of it. The horse's ears twitch backwards and it stomps it massive hoof into the ground. As he gets closer, the horse twitches and bolts, but just far enough out of Arthur's reach. The horse stomps its hoof again, its ears still tilted backwards as if in annoyance. Arthur goes in again, and yet again, the horse darts away, just out of his reach. This back and forth exchange between them goes on a few more times. The horse could have just ran off altogether by now, but for whatever reason, it keeps stopping short and stares Arthur down each time. "Are you messin' with me, mister?" Arthur huffs.

   He gets closer to it once again, and before it can bolt again, Arthur's hands shoot out from his body, throwing the rope towards the horse. The lasso hits its target, landing around the silver horse's neck. Immediately the horse pulls back, causing Arthur to lurch forward. He regains his footing, digging his heels into the ground to try to reel the horse in. As he pulls the rope in towards his chest, the horse suddenly rears up on its hind legs, pulling Arthur over completely to land right on his face, dragging him several feet on his stomach over the ground as the horse backtracks. Arthur considers himself quite good with horses, but this one may seem to be smarter than he is.

   "God damn it", Arthur sputters, spitting the dirt out of his mouth as he peers up at the horse. But, fortunately, he manages to keep his grip on the rope. Its a good thing he has his riding gloves on, or the rope would have cut his hands up something fierce from the force. He turns himself about on his ass on the ground, managing to get himself upright before the damn horse decides to jerk again. "Alright, then, that's the way you want to play it?" he asks, glaring at the horse. The horse nickers and snorts in his direction, almost as if he is answering him. Arthur gets to his feet and wraps the rope around his back side, and flicks the tail of the rope at the horse. The horse starts to canter about in a circle, with Arthur keeping a strong grip on the rope, leading him around. He keeps the horse moving, letting the circle get wider as needed, but continuously flicking the rope at its feet. His plan is to tire the horse out before trying to lead him back to camp. "I can wait you out, my friend, if that's what it takes," Arthur calls out to the horse, suddenly feeling quite smug. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I can be just as stubborn as you."

   Back at camp, you are sitting with the girls at the tables. Chores are done for now, so you are all relaxing for a brief moment. You and Tilly have a domino game going, Mary-Beth is reading her latest book from the general store in town, and Abigail and Karen are content to just sit with their coffee. Idle chit-chat and soft laughter are a welcome comfort, as it doesn't come often.

   By now, Arthur has come back into camp, casting his eyes about until they finally land on you. He smiles, hardly able to contain himself. He briskly makes his way across the open area, slowing as he approaches you, trying to collect himself and not to seem too eager. You notice him out of the corner of your eye and instantly lift your head in his direction, a soft smile involuntarily crossing your lips.

   "Hey you," you greet him warmly. "Where you been all this time?" "Hey you", he smiles in return. "Oh, I've been out and about," he says nonchalantly, slight wave of his arm. "Listen, you busy right now?" "Just losing to Tilly", you giggle as you motion to the tiles in front of you. "Oh", he says slightly disappointed, looking down at the table. "If you're busy, this can wait, then," his smile faltering slightly as he shifts his weight to his other hip, dropping his head down a bit. "No, no, its OK. Tilly will always have time to embarrass me at dominoes. What can I do for you?" you add quickly, turning yourself on the bench to give him your undivided attention.

   Arthur picks his head up again. "Uh...do you mind comin' with me for a second? I have somethin' to show ya." Suddenly, for whatever reason, Arthur is rather nervous, as his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. Maybe it's because your eyes are whole-heartedly on him right now, or maybe he's not so sure if you'll be as excited about this surprise as he is.

   "Sure. Tilly, you mind if we pick this up later?" "Nope, not at all," says Tilly, a huge smile on her face as she rests her chin into her hand. You are intrigued as to what Arthur could possibly be up to. You notice his sudden awkwardness and smile to yourself. The girls notice it too, and try to stifle their giggles as you stand up to follow him.

   You look at Arthur curiously as you walk with him back across the camp. You can see him occasionally look at you out of the corner of his eye. He walks close to you, but yet still far enough to prevent his hand from accidentally brushing up against yours. As you come up to the edge of camp where the hitching posts are, you coyly ask "so are you going to tell me where we're go-..." and your words are halted in your throat as you see the silver horse tethered to one of the trees. It is pacing back and forth frantically, nervous and jittery. A breathless "oh" escapes your lips as your hand comes up to your chest. Your eyes stare, unblinking, at the horse. This is one of the most beautiful things you have ever seen and you can't take your eyes off of it. Arthur watches you, his gaze darting back and forth between you and the horse, his mouth turning up into a smile.

   "Where did he come from?" you ask in wonder.

   "Found him when I was out. He was roamin' around all by his lonesome. You like him?" Arthur pauses to gauge your reaction.

   "Oh, Arthur he's stunning!" You can't help but stare at the horse as it prances about. Every time it tosses its head about, the horse's mane cascades through the air as he snorts and paws at the ground. You've never seen a horse like this. You've seen plenty of prized animals in the stables as you grew up, and all kinds of breeds since you've been out here in the countryside. But nothing like this one.

   "Good," says Arthur. "'cause he's yours now." With a sharp inhale of astonishment you are finally able to break your gaze away from the horse to let it fall onto Arthur's face. "What? You can't be serious?" Your eyes wide and questioning.

   “I figured it’s about time you have a horse of your own." Arthur says with a nod towards the horse. "This way you can come and go from camp as you please. Javier don’t have to share his horse with you. And, not that I mind sharing a saddle with you or nothin', but this way maybe we can take longer rides out together now if you got a ride of your own.” And he casts his eyes down to the ground at this last bit, not sure how you're going to react to such an implication.

   You are enamored with the horse itself and totally taken aback by Arthur’s gesture at the same time. You stare blankly in disbelief at him for a brief moment before you leap at him, throwing your arms around Arthur's shoulders, squeezing him into the biggest hug ever in your excitement. A smaller person might find the force with which you are squeezing a bit painful, but not Arthur. Its an embrace that he lingers onto. He dips his face down to hover in the space between your neck and shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent, his hands tentatively resting around the small of your back. Arthur's heart soars at the sound of your happiness, your laughter more of a squeal in his ear. "Oh, Arthur, thank you!" And suddenly, in your excitement you kiss him on the cheek. The act of appreciation startles him, making him blush. His eyes shoot open in shock, as he freezes at the feeling of your soft lips on his stubbled face. And before he can stop you, you break away from your embrace and turn to proceed to walk towards the horse. Arthur's demeanor instantly turns from blissfulness to alarm, though, as he watches you head straight for this horse that is still jumping about nervously. He's afraid he's about to witness you getting trampled right before his eyes. He reaches his hand out to grab your arm, about to rush over to stop you, but immediately halts, as he doesn’t want to spook the damn thing any more.

   "(Y/N), wait!" he whispers sharply. He carefully watches you as you slowly glide toward the horse, hands slightly lifting as you move. Arthur's body is wound as tight as a spring as he keeps his eyes on you. The horse has its eyes on you now as well, but slowly begins to calm, drifting back and forth, nickering as you approach it. You're almost within arm's length of the horse now and Arthur freezes as you suddenly crouch down at its feet. Your skirt bunches around you as you sit back on your heels, arms lifting up over your head, reaching up to it. Arthur's hand is nervously running over his mouth at this point. You're going to get trampled for sure now. Jesus, here he thought he was going to do something really great and now he's going to end up getting you killed!

   But amazingly, the horse eventually stops its nervous antics, eyes you up again, and then slowly reaches its nose down to you. You lift your hands up even more and run your fingers ever so gently along the velvety skin of his nose and muzzle, causing the horse to shudder. Arthur stares in disbelief. You slowly rise up to your feet and run your hands down the horse’s neck, as you speak softly to it.

   “I’ll be God damned," Arthur mutters under his breath as he slowly walks up behind you, careful not to spook the horse again. “How the hell did you do that?” You turn your face over your shoulder, eyes twinkling at Arthur now. “I guess I got a way with the grumpy ones," you say with a wink. He huffs out a laugh at that, dipping his head down again, nodding in acknowledgement. He takes a moment to watch the two of you interact together. The horse seems to have taken an instant liking to you. Of course, thinks Arthur. How could it not? “After dinner, we’ll get him all brushed down and cleaned up”, he says. “Maybe we'll take him out tomorrow once he's settled and see how he does.” “That would be great, Arthur, really," you say turning to him now, your eyes almost glossy with happiness. "Thank you so, so much." You turn back to the horse, running your fingers along its neck again, playing with the long hair of its mane. It turns it's head and nuzzles into you, snorting softly. "I think I’m going to name him Blue.”

   The next morning you wake up as excited as a little kid at Christmas. You quickly get yourself dressed and cleaned up for the day, and hurry out of your tent. It was early yet, so the camp was still calm and quiet. Everyone was just starting to stir. You head straight over to the hitching posts again, anxious to check on Blue before Ms. Grimshaw gets ahold of you. You find that the evening has done him well, as Blue is much calmer now. He's grazing on the hay that was set out for him, his movements much more slow and relaxed than yesterday.

   "Hey there, Handsome," you say softly as you approach. The horse lifts its head at the sound of your voice. "Got something for you." You lift your hand up to hold out an oatcake. Blue hesitates a moment but slowly meanders over to you. You want to earn his trust, so you let him come to you at his own pace. He stops just short of your hand, though. He stretches his neck, trying to grab the cake with just his lips. He's still a little hesitant and doesn't want to get too close. "Ah, ah", you scold. "Come on. You want it, you have to come and get it." Your voice is soft and sweet, like you're talking to a child. You continue to hold your hand out, waiting patiently with a smile. Blue shifts his weight as you can tell he's weighing his options, his tail swishing behind him. But he only hesitates a moment before he takes another few steps to get close enough to take the oatcake from you, his lips and whiskers leaving slobber all over your hand. You giggle as it tickles, so elated that this beautiful creature is allowing you in its presence.

   "Figured I find you over here." The all-too familiar gravely voice makes you smile even bigger. You turn to see Arthur standing with 2 cups of coffee in his hands. "Didn't even get your coffee this mornin'. My, this horse must be special if you're willin' to skip your mornin' coffee for it." He reaches over to hand you a cup, a little smirk on his face.

   "Thank you," you say with a giggle, gratefully taking the cup from his hand. "I just wanted to make sure he was real, you know, that this wasn't some sort of dream." The statement makes the smirk on Arthur's face turn into a full-fledged smile. Such a rare thing to witness, but admittedly happening more often since you have come to join the group.

   "So I did good, then?" he asks, his eye brows lifting in anticipation. "Very good!" you say. Your own smile beams brightly back at him, making his heart beat faster. He nervously taps the side of his coffee cup, unable to hold your gaze for too long. "Right, then," he says softly to himself, shifting his gaze to his boots. He walks a little closer so he too can reach out to run his hand along Blue's muzzle. The horse jumps back a bit, though. Blue has started to warm-up to you, but apparently he's still leery of Arthur. "Woa, woa, boy. Easy now..." As gruff as Arthur can be, he is surprisingly gentle with animals, especially horses. "You're not gonna hold that lasso-in' thing against me are ya?" His voice is low, pleasant to the ear. You watch Arthur as he tries to make friends with Blue by simply holding his hand up so Blue can see it, letting him inspect and sniff before he attempts to rub along the horse's jawline. Arthur keeps his movements slow as he keeps his voice in low tones. His calmness is soothing, even to you. God, you could listen to that voice all day.

   "So, when we goin' out?" Arthur asks you, going back to sipping his coffee. You purse your lips, trying to contain your excitement again. "I don't know. I have to check in with Ms Grimshaw this morning first, or I'll never hear the end of it. In fact, neither would you." You give him a knowing look. "Ah, I ain't afraid of her," he says, waiving his hand dismissively. "Oh, OK", you say scoffing. "I'll remember that when she goes on a rampage. You ain't hiding behind me next time." Both of you chuckle a bit at the thought of it. Ms Grimshaw could be a harpy, for sure, but where would you all be without her? "Yeah, alright, point taken," he says. You continue to run your hand along Blue's face and up around his ears, reluctant to pull away. "OK, let me go and get her taken care of and then I'll come find you and see where we're at. Sound good?" you ask brightly. "Sure," he answers you. "You just holler when you're ready." "OK" and he watches as you take one last look at Blue before you turn to head back to the common area of camp to find Ms Grimshaw before she finds you. As his eyes follow after you, Arthur is already counting the minutes in his head. He himself can't wait for this. He gets to spend time alone with you, riding horses, out where its quiet and peaceful. It doesn't get much better than that in his mind.

    By late morning, you manage to complete your tasks that Ms Grimshaw needed done relatively quick. Now that you are free, you immediately go in search of Arthur. You find that he and Charles are working on repairs on one of the wagons. One of the wheels is starting to come lose and one of the floorboards is cracked. "Hey, guys, what you got going on there?", you chirp as you approach them. Smiling as they both look up at you, you hand each of them a cup of water that you brought over for them. Charles reaches up gratefully. "Hi, (Y/N) ...thanks." He takes a long gulp of the cool water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "So I heard Arthur found you a horse." "Sure did", you reply, your eyes darting over to Arthur, smiling. "He's going to help me take him out today, too." Arthur takes his hat off and sets it down next to him on the ground where he is kneeling, running his other hand through his hair before he takes the other cup of water from your hand. As he does, his fingers linger ever so slightly on yours that are wrapped around the cup. He too takes a long gulp, looking up at you as he does. He's hoping the cup hides his big smile, but the twinkle in his eyes betrays him. "That's right. I did promise you that, didn't I?" he teases. "Yep!" Like a little kid, you stare at him excitedly. "Go on, then, Arthur. I can take care of this from here," says Charles. "You sure?" asks Arthur. He wants so badly to leave with you right now, but doesn't want to leave Charles in a bind. Knowing as much, Charles gives him a smirk. "Looks like you got more pressing business to tend to," nodding his head at you. Arthur claps him on the shoulder in appreciation, rising to his feet and looks over at you. "C'mon, girl. Let's get to it, then."

   Once back at the hitching posts again, Arthur helps you get Blue saddled up. "We'll get you some proper tack but for now this old saddle and bridle will do," he says. Blue is a little skiddish when the saddle goes on, so Arthur suggests that you walk the horses out of the camp first. He doesn't want to risk the horse taking off with you on him and tossing you into a tree. So with your hands around Blue's reins, and Arthur with his own horse in hand, you both proceed to casually walk out of the camp together, leaving the bustling activity of the gang behind. 

   Once you get out in the open, Arthur holds the bridle from the ground while you mount up. Blue skips around nervously a bit at first, but with Arthur whispering in his ear, he remains calm enough for you to get your bearings. Fortunately, you are a seasoned rider and can handle yourself quite well on a horse. When you are sure Blue is ready for it, the two of you head out over the meadows, letting the horses casually carry you two about. Blue takes to you quickly and seems to be at ease underneath you, allowing you to relax and enjoy the moment. Admittedly it is not just your time with Blue that you are excited for. You rarely get time alone with Arthur, so you want to enjoy your time together as much as possible while you have it. The conversations between you and Arthur are varied, from the mundane to the profound, much like your usual outings together. You find it so easy to talk to him for some reason. You discuss everything from how Blue handles, to Jack's excitement at finding a frog in the river while you were out playing the other day, and even to the latest philosophy book that you and Hosea have been discussing. You both always find great comfort in each other's presence. Even peaceful silence is easy.  

   At one point, you look over at Arthur and ask, "How fast do you think Blue can run?" "What?" And with an arch of your eyebrow and a curl of your lips, you nudge Blue in the sides, spurring him to take off. The horse practically explodes into motion underneath you. "(Y/N), wait!", he calls after you. Arthur quickly drops behind you but you can hear the thunder of his horse's hooves as he starts to move. Arthur tries to keep up, but this horse of yours is like lightning. All of a sudden, Arthur's heart catches in his throat as he sees you lift to sit up in the saddle, stretching your arms straight out to your sides like a bird's wings. Your head tilts back, eyes closed, while holding on to the horse with your knees. Your body aligns with the gait of the horse beneath you and you move as one in a flowing motion. Your hair is blowing back in the wind behind you, blurring with the mane, tail and feathers of Blue. Its as if the two of you are flying. Blue is off at top speed for quite some time before you eventually let the horse slow at his own pace, letting Arthur catch up. Arthur is left totally speechless as he eventually sidles up next to you on his own horse.

   "You're crazy, you know that?" he says to you, a hint of exasperation in his voice. You look over at him, grinning ear to ear, your cheeks flush. You're out of breath from the adrenaline and excitement, as you reach down to rub Blues’s neck before bending in half to lean over completely to hug him from above. “Did you see that, Arthur?! He’s something else, isn’t he?!” Arthur is still trying to calm his nerves since he practically just had a heart attack. “Sure is,” he says slowly, as he rubs his chin with his thumb and forefinger.

   “I can’t thank you enough for him, Arthur. Really. No one’s ever done anything like this for me before”, you say excitedly. You absolutely beam at him. Your smile is sincere and genuine, and only for him right now. And to him, it is worth everything in his world. He can feel his chest tighten at the overwhelming feeling of joy that you bring him. "You are...most welcome, (Y/N)" he says, his eyes locked onto yours, truly humbled by your gratitude. He is still amazed at the interactions between the two of you. You have no expectations of him. No demands of him. No assumptions. No judgments. Just innocent gratitude.

   Arthur has spent his whole life taking advantage of anyone who crosses his path. Survival has taught him to always look out for himself. Anyone else is a liability. At best, his connection with Hosea and Dutch have trained him to at least look after the gang. History has proved to him "no personal ties, it only ends badly". But now, his mind has started to open to the possibility of more in the world. Maybe life doesn't have to be so hard and cruel after all. You know his faults, good and bad, yet you do not turn your back on him, or sit in judgement. You are not like anyone else he's met before. And the realization starts to hit him: this could very well be...a new beginning.