#praise be to indoor plumbing!

[bethanydelleman]

If you ever find yourself yearning to be or marry a rich member of the gentry in the Regency era, just remind yourself that Mr. Darcy may have £10,000, but he doesn't have indoor plumbing.

[ceilidho]

'still wakes the deep' au

prompt: You're an environmental scientist conducting research on an off-shore oil rig with only a few days left before you're slated to leave. The eldritch creature they accidentally awaken throws a wrench in the works. First Meeting masterlist

-

Choppy waters like Neptune’s eye meet your gaze when you look back at where you came from, the land on the other side but a beige striation on the horizon. 

“Afraid of heights, doctor?” your escort asks, his amusement borderline distasteful. It must stroke their ego to watch newcomers come aboard and flounder, gawking at the swells and waves crashing against the oil rig, each wave so cataclysmic that it’s a wonder the structure stays upright. A wonder of engineering, that is. 

The rig manager stands closer to the railing, staring without fear out into the ocean surrounding you. His sea legs are likelier studier than the ones that wash up ashore every fourteen days when he’s due for his OSHA mandated break. His knees don’t even buckle at the sight of the barnacles clinging nerve-wrackingly high up on the rig legs. Far too high up for comfort. 

“No, sir,” you reply, shaking your head. “Just water.”

He barks a laugh at that. “Plenny o’ that around here. Wouldn’y go leaning my head over the rail then, if I was you.”

You take another look down, balking at the frothy white streaking the latticework barrier around the jacket legs. No worries there; there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll be going anywhere near the rails. You’re too high up to know for sure, but you wonder if there are sharks plumbing the depths beneath the rig, excited by the noise and activity on board. 

You’d be shark chum if you went overboard. Beyond that, you’d be fish food; no sympathy from the sea to be found this far from land. 

“Where should I set up?” you ask instead. 

Sensing your eagerness to get started—and to get away from the edge of the rig—he gestures for you to follow him and sets off towards the door closest to you, leading you into the interior of the rig. “This way, doc—got a room already set up for ye. Cozier in there than out here.”

The first few days aren’t so bad after that. You spend the first day getting unpacked, your suitcase already waiting for you in your quarters, which doubles as your office, and then turn in early after prepping for the next day. 

As anticipated, you spend the next day hunched over the toilet bowl, stomach roiling from spending too long staring at the turbulent waters below. You’ve done this before but it never gets any easier. Despite your chosen field of research, you’re suited for dry land, not the sea. It’s the price you have to pay though. 

No coffee that first morning. Just tea to help settle your stomach. And it does for a bit—lets you get through your first day worth of tests without you upchucking while collecting water samples from the discharge point. You’ll save your indoor work for the days when the crests of the waves are high enough to spray the working deck. By dinner, your stomach is a little more settled, but still you elect to eat in your quarters instead of with the workers in the mess. 

You haven’t been on the rig long enough to have made any enemies, nor do you think that’s something that’ll happen during your brief time on board, but you definitely haven’t made any friends. It comes with the territory. The men that work on these rigs out in the middle of the ocean—even the ones on land, for that matter—tend to view your kind with distrust at the very least, if not outright hostility. 

It’s hard to blame them. The purpose of your visit isn’t to shower them with praises. You’re stationed on the rig for the next few days to collect data and samples to assess the environmental impact of the rig’s operations. It puts you somewhat at odds with them, the outcome of your work being potentially to the detriment of theirs. 

Some whisper the word like blasphemy. Government worker. They say it like you’re the Baba Yaga or a witch living in a cottage at the edge of the village, like uttering the word too loudly will summon you. There’s too much work to do around the rig for them to cluck their tongues like gossipy hens, but the men find time for it anyway. You’d roll your eyes if you were any greener. 

The truth is though, you’re used to it, and at this point in your career, you don’t have it in you to act like it’s such a shock that they wouldn’t give you the red carpet treatment. All you need is a hot cup of coffee, an office (or even just a desk) to write your reports, and some space to conduct your research without being badgered with questions.

Most of the men tend to blur together, a medley of fluorescent yellow hard hats and navy coveralls, respirators strung around their necks and goggles covering their eyes. It’s easy enough to mistake them for one another. 

Only one of them has managed to catch your eye so far, though you can’t say it’s for a particularly good reason. Of the lot of them, he’s the loudest. Which is saying something, considering that the crew tend to speak in shouts and hollers to make up for the crashing waves beneath them and the howling winds above them. He’s also among the tallest, broad shouldered and muscled—a former first responder or military, if you had to guess, though you keep your assumptions to yourself. 

You know better than to ask questions around him because you’ve learned in the short time that you’ve spent on the rig not to give him—Soap, they call him, or MacTavish when the rig manager is particularly pissed off—even an inch. 

It’s another crew member that gives you that heads up. “Din’y pay him any mind.”

“Who?” you ask, looking up from your work.

The crew member nods to the man posted on the other side of the main deck. “Soap. Bit of a showboat, that one. Always stirrin’ up the boys, gettin’ ‘em all riled up. Din’y let him distract ye too much.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You look back down at the data sheets in front of you. “I’m not worried though. He hasn’t been too much trouble.”

Famous last words. 

He isn’t too much trouble until he suddenly is; until he’s suddenly everywhere, always in your way somehow. Not so much underfoot as just always around the corner waiting with his stupid smug smirk that you’ve grown to despise and half-lidded electric blue eyes roving up and down the length of you. Aggravating you at every turn. 

Your first meeting is an accident. At least, it seems that way, and likely is—he seems too blunt for coincidences or chance meetings, happy to tell you to your face that he manipulated the situation in order to get you on your own. 

You’re wandering down one of the many circulatory hallways and slightly lost when a door suddenly opens, blocking your way. A jumpsuit-clad man twice your size walks out, his hair just brushing the top of the doorframe. Though you recognize him instantly, you’d never gotten close enough for the details to cement in your mental image of him. Up close, you get a better look.

The faint lines around his eyes and mouth betray either his age or the life he’s lived. Weathered; bronzed from days at a time spent under the sun. You’d noticed the mohawk earlier, but staring at the side of his head now, you can see the faint puckering of a healed wound splintering out from his temple into his hairline. Though the sides of his head are freshly shorn, the scar looks old—maybe a year, maybe more. 

When he notices that he’s not alone in the hall, his head turns in your direction and he stops, one foot still in the other room. Two thick brows go up at the sight of you standing there with your tablet clutched to your chest. 

“Hullo gorgeous,” Soap purrs, pupils suddenly pinpricks and your stomach drops. 

Because of course he would. You’d long figured he might be an arrogant piece of work from what little you’ve observed of him from across the rig, but you should’ve known he’d also be a flirt. He’s too good-looking not to be one. Tall and broad, with biceps the size of your head. You’re sure he rolls his shirt sleeves up just to feel them strain against the muscles of his arms. You certainly can’t help the way your eyes are drawn there. 

“Ah ken who ye are,” he says, taking a step towards you until the tips of his boots nearly touch yours. The door is still wide open behind him, swinging slowly towards the wall behind it. Soap towers over you easily, tipping his head to stare down at you. Your lips press into a tight line when his eyes drop to your chest, staring at the outline of your tits through your cardigan. 

“Okay,” you say through stiff lips.

“Yer that lass from the government. Ah thought ye'd be auld,” he jokes, shit-eating grin on his face. 

You nearly groan. It’s too early for this shit and you’re too tired from being up all night working on your report on the rig’s discharge water quality. 

“Well, I’m not,” you reply woodenly instead, altogether unimpressed with him. 

For as fit as he is, you’re not here to flirt or hookup, and you’re good at separating work and your personal life. If anyone manages to get under your skin enough to tempt you, it won’t be the man undressing you with his eyes while covered in a thin layer of grime and sweat. 

“Nae, yer no’,” he agrees, voice a low burr. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I’m John, by the way.”

“I know.”

“…It’s polite tae give yer name when someone introduces thersel's tae ye.”

“I’d rather you just call me doctor.”

“Doctor, eh?” Soap purrs, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Dae ye dae house calls, doc? Hae been feelin’ a wee bit feverish lately.”

You can’t help the way your cheeks heat at his comment. “Not that kind of doctor. Do you mind getting out of the way?”

“Jesus, I din’y ken ye’d be so fuckin’ prickly. Thought ye government workers were cheery a' the time.”

“Not when we have work to do,” you bite out, decidedly uncomfortable with his shameless perusal and eager just to get on with your day. “Can you move please? I have somewhere to be.”

All that does is force him to take another step closer, toe-to-toe with you now. You should’ve known he’d take that as an invitation. He reeks of grease and brine, the smell pungent and clinging to his skin and clothes. Almost like he sleeps and works in the same pair of coveralls instead of bringing his dirty clothes down to the laundry facility like everyone else at the end of the week. 

You tell yourself to stop staring at where his coveralls open to a sweat-slicked chest, dark hair poking up over the neckline, but your eyes don’t comply. A small cross dangles from a chain around his neck, nestled in the hair just above his pecs. 

“Good Catholic lass, are ye?” Soap asks, noticing the focal point of your gaze.

You scrunch up your nose at that. “No. I didn’t—it’s none of your business anyway.”

The stutter is where his eyes light up, a little gleam in the blue that lets you know you’ve caught his interest. Like seeing a storm well off in the distance and bracing for it anyway, knowing that you’re in its path no matter what you do. 

“A’right, doc, Ah'll leave ye tae it. Gotta get back myself anyway,” he says, rolling his shoulders back and standing up taller, and it’s only in that moment that you realize how low his neck had been bent in order to get closer to you. “Wait. I can’y let ye go lookin’ like that.”

You’re about to ask him what he means when he suddenly grabs you by the front of your cardigan and pulls you towards him, getting the grease on his hands all over the fabric. Your eyes nearly bug out of your skull as he pops the topmost button into its corresponding hole, the only one you’d left purposefully loose. 

The only reason you don’t snap at him to take his hands off you is because your tongue is a knot in your throat. 

“There we go,” Soap coos when the button is in, looking down at his handiwork all over the front of your shirt. “Lookin’ like part o’ the crew already.”

Your heart pounds in your chest long after he lets you go. When he steps to the side, the door flush with the wall by now, you dart around him, walking away as fast as your legs can carry you without sprinting. You ignore the way he belts out a laugh at your swift departure. Ignore the way your stomach cramps at the sound as well. 

He might end up being more trouble than you thought.

[peggy-sue-reads-a-book]

The Garden of Innocence

Dionysus x Ariadne | Teen+

Summary: Ariadne goes camping with her questionable boyfriend.

Beautiful artwork here: (x) @hycinthrt

Chapter 3

Theseus was supposed to be a great sailor. He was also supposed to take his girlfriend directly from Crete to Athens, where she would meet his parents. They were going to get married and probably have twelve babies. So far, she was disappointed.

Ariadne was a beautiful princess. She wore flouncy dresses as were popular in Crete and she had once even enjoyed indoor plumbing. Camping wasn’t really for her.

Nevertheless, she was filled with hope. Theseus had found a tree full of delicious figs. He impressed her with a blue-green bonfire of burning driftwood and told her stories of Herakles under the stars. He got most of the details wrong, but she didn’t correct him. She didn’t really care. She was safe against his strong shoulder, a loving arm around her and a warm fire at her feet.

He was so handsome with his runners legs and full, springy hair. He reclined against her, fighting sleep from the long hours talking. Ariadne glowed with pleasure at the casual, confiding touch. She kissed his hair, reached to take his hand. Its shape was graceful, yet hardened and rough from holding a sword. Exactly as a prince’s should be. He was perfect.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

She shook her head, a shy no. “But don’t stop. It feels nice.”

He hugged her closer. His kisses warmed her face like sunlight. She turned in his arms, pressed herself fully against him. Perhaps tonight was the night. Ariadne longed to be deflowered. At home, her diary was loaded with specific visions.

“No, enough,” he said, “We are not married. You make yourself unseemly.”

“We will be,” she breathed, “What about yesterday? By the fig tree—“

“Exactly,” said Theseus, his voice stern, “I … forgot myself. I should treat you more gently. You are yet a maiden.”

“So?”

At that moment, the fire popped. He was alert at once, pulling her upwind of brightest blue sparks.

“You weren’t burned, were you?” He was obviously changing the subject.

“No,” she said softly, resting her forehead against his neck, “I’m tired though. Don’t put any more wood on.”

“Alright.” He smoothed her hair back and kissed her head. “That fire,” he said, “They say that’s the color of nereids’ hair.”

Ariadne laughed.

“Why is that funny? ”

She ventured, “The only thing unusual about a nereid’s hair is that it’s very, very long.”

Theseus frowned at the correction. She remembered suddenly that in Athens women were silent in public and heavily veiled if they were rich. She felt conscious of her bright skirts and painted breasts. She willed her face not to color.

“How would you know that, anyway?” he asked.

Ariadne was dumbstruck and then she laughed at him. “What? You don’t know?”

“O-oh,” it falls out in two syllables, “Pasiphaë’s line. Of course.”

It was common knowledge that she was naiad-born through her mother’s side.

“I had only been thinking of Minos’s side.”

She was three quarters god and he was only just now doing the math.

“Yes, well it’s not as if we actually hear from Zeus,” she laughed, attempting to dismiss the gravity of the connection.

“Still … he is your grandsire.”

“I suppose. I know more from my mother. My aunt Circe—“

“Circe? The witch?” His voice was so harsh that her eyes stung with tears.

“Oh, I think she’s just a hermit with some funny pets. It’s not like we’ve even met.”

“But she’s your aunt?”

“My mother’s sister. Of course. It’s not a secret, Theseus.”

She was grateful that the island was so full of night sounds that it softened the tense silence between them.

“All I was saying,” she said in a small voice, “Is that her hair looks like mine.”

“Your mother told you this?”

“Mmhmm.” She stares vaguely at the flames, knees drawn in.

Theseus strokes her lamb-soft ringlets. “Then, your aunt must be beautiful.”

The compliment touched her, she knew. But Ariadne had always been praised for her beauty and warmth. For the tender slopes of her body, for her honey-brown skin and hair, and most especially her dark brown eyes. “My perfect doe,” Theseus had called her, when first professing his admiration. She leaned into him, and there was a shallow sort of peace between them.

“If you’re tired,” he said, “I’ll watch the fire. Don’t worry.” He offered her a soft smiles and patted his left thigh. It took her a moment to understand that he meant for her to lay her head in his lap.

“Sweet princess,” he murmured. And she fell asleep to his warm fingers stroking the curls from her neck.

To their backs, a forest grew black and heavy with underbrush. It breathed, and the air was luxuriant with summer fruit. And as the stars turned, a flower opened to the far off sound of a girl’s dreaming voice.

Continued: (x)

@withlovefromolympus @dionysian-daydream @kebriones @margaretkart @lefty-scissors @hycinthrt @human-still-developing @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @silly-billy-the-bunny @badbitchdionysian @ygnoe @shitfacedalways and @werememberthedoctor you too, what the hell, though I fear you will cringe because we’re irl friends.

[kimberly40]

My People:

I come from a people who lived an isolated existence for more than a century. No phones. No automobiles. No televisions, No indoor plumbing, electricity or running water in many cases. My people were poor, looked down upon, laughed at, made fun of, were feared, misunderstood, pitied and ridiculed.

But My people were something most today are not — my people were resilient. They were strong. They were survivors and Innovators. They were fierce. They knew how to persevere.

My people knew how to work. How to scratch food from the side of a mountain. How to use the bounty God provided. They knew how to pick berries and make jams and jellies. They could make soap; hunt, fish, and dry and preserve food. They knew how to can and store up food for the winter. They knew how to dry meat and cure it and how to use ever single part of the animal so that none was wasted.

My people knew how to log, and mine coal, plant crops, read the signs, divine water, dig wells, clean a gun, shoe a horse, make quilts, make butter and sourgum molasses, make medicine and make moonshine...they knew how to make a life with their own bare hands.

And my people knew how to pray. They knew who to pray to and they knew to whom to give thanks. My people were often dirty, tired and beaten down from the raw cruelty of life, but they knew how to praise. They knew how to lift their hands to heaven and how to bow their head to God- and they knew how to hope for a new life some sweet day.

My people knew how to sing. They knew how to dance. They knew how to make their fingers fly as if by magic as they claw picked a banjo or slid a bow across a fiddle.

My people knew who they were. They knew who they came from. They knew where they came from. My people were proudly American, but remembered the old ways and the old songs and the old paths.

My people were craftsmen and women. They could sew a fine seam, whittle a child’s whistle, make furniture and gun stocks, tan leather, and carve their own pipes.

My people were soldiers. They fought and died for our country and represented the mountain area from which they came in disproportioned numbers. All gave some. Some gave all.

My people were their own doctors and nurses. They looked to their own for medicine and cures. They had to. No one could have reached them in time anyway.

These were my people. It is their blood that flows within my veins. Strong. Fiercely independent. Largely still undiluted from years of keeping to ourselves and not trusting those who come round with smiles and promises.

So when you ask me what makes me think the way that I do, the answer is simple. I learned it from my people.

Proud. Independent. Appalachian—And you’re not likely to change me now.

- Geneva Coleman, 2020

God bless.

*Pictured is a Carpenter Reunion in North Cove, North Carolina in 1935. My Great Great Grandparents and Family-My People

[londonspirit]

London Love

First day back home and it all feels 'wrong' *sighs wistfully*

Oh well, i had the most wonderful six days in my favorite place with my favorite people so I shouldn't really complain, right?! Still, always harsh to come back to reality after the time away... especially this time. What a trip it’s been!! Didn’t expect all that happened - did NOT expect to see a Kiwi live and in the flesh but that’s London for you - full of surprises!!!

Walked all the ways again (a total of 114(!!!) km's, that's 163621 steps!), saw all the beautiful things; just one play and one reading though and yet my whole being feels nourished and bursting with joy and happiness.

Trip started out a bit worried as my stomach did some weird things, and there was a strange pain on the lower right side (yes, I was instantly thinking appendix, but did the thing and it was fine). Nerves, maybe (it had been a while), I thought, or too much strain from carrying those last few boxes from mom’s place to mine and sis’s, and it did indeed settle a bit once I was over. Still, I felt a tad troubled so got some Ibuprofen and some Paracetamol and self-medicated. It didn’t get worse; got better over the past days but yeah, first day was a tad off.

Still, met with Nic and even tho we were both saying to not do THAT much walking we ended up with almost 28km’s! I love her, we barely see each other and don’t text much at all, but WHEN we met we have ALL THE THINGS to geek out over and it’s always great to catch up with her. I was soo happy I had her all day to myself. Oh, and running into/past the one and only Ali Plumb (sadly on his phone) had me off to a great start!!! *hehe* 

Day 2 was the calmest of them all, FINALLY seeing Yayoi Kusama: Infinity Mirror Rooms after missing out on them for the past five years was the only booked thing on my agenda that day! And BOY is it worth it!

Soo soo stunning, I went twice!!! You only have two  minutes in the room but you can queue again, and on Monday early afternoon it wasn’t that full so that was no biggie at all! After that I was meeting with a friend but she was running late (I knew that, she’s a busy busy bee) so I sat outside her workplace and waited, the sun was out (I had sunscreen on), I had food and wifi, it was perfect.

I was aimlessly scrolling through Twitter when a tweet from Rosie popped up:

And I LOST MY SHIT!!! I mean, that was for like in THREE days!

I did NOT have ‘being able to see RHYS FUCKING DARBY LIVE’ on my bingo card for London AT ALL!

And suddenly there was the chance!!! OF COURSE I TOOK IT!!!

Cue a few freaked out texts to my Sally, a rushed check of earlier trains, and booking a ticket for STAND UP!!! I don’t do standup... unless it’s RHYS FUCKING DARBY!!! So yeah, there I was, cackling to myself like a total lunatic (thankfully Lex is used to me losing my shit (although it’s been a while since she’s witnessed that in person!)) with the prospect of seeing RHYS FUCKING DARBY LIVE!!! (and thankfully I had packed not only my Orange shirt (gotta represent) but also my newly made DJ shirt (which I KNEW could ONLY be appreciated my fellow OFMD fans!!!).

So having that sorted and having calmed down (barely), Lex and I spent the evening catching up until it was time for her to leave for home. Since I didn’t have any plans at all, I had a stroll round town before returning ‘home’.

Tuesday was ‘meeting Jo in Leeds’ Day! Only day it was raining in both cities, which was fine, we spent the day indoors, catching up (it’s been a year since we last saw each other) and just enjoying ourselves! We did see a bit of Leeds, but with it being very wet and very moist, there wasn’t THAT much walking and sightseeing happening! Although I spotted this, which made me laugh:

Starting your pirate BABIES early, I guess *hehe*

Wednesday was the only day with a play!!! Yeah, I know, I have no idea how that happened - too many things to see, too little time. Praised be matinees! Romeo and Juliet at the Almeida (first time there for me), seeing the lovely Toheeb Jimoh on stage, being all dramatic and shit? COUNT ME IN! (even though I’ve had my fair share of Shakespeare before Covid hit).

And since I had the morning to myself I naturally had to check out that Chilean restaurant in Paddington. Yes, THAT one. (And accidentally dressing like the Elizabeth line!) And goodness me, these empanadas are GOOD!! Even at 11 am in the morning (only time I could be there, they close at 4 during the week and as I said, too many things to do and see, not enough time!).

Walked them empanadas off on my way to the theatre, past Abby Road, had a GREAT seat for a VERY small price and managed to catch the darling man after before he was off to lunch. Didn’t know whether he’d do stage door but he did, and BY GOD, that man’s even more lovely in RL! Im soo happy I managed to tell him that (and how brilliant he was on stage, of course!) And he was - he was enjoying himself, and he ‘died’ VERY realistically! It was amazing! And that smile is fucking DEADLY when aimed at you!!!

Got me a Humble Crumble on the way back (SOOO GOOD!) and then it was already time for Elliot Page!

I've NEVER been in a room with this many queer people (aside from Pride marches!) and it was the most amazing thing; you could FEEL the happiness of being there; the reception for the man himself was INSANE and made me actually tear up a bit (he deserves ONLY THE FUCKING BEST (and all the fucking HUGS!)).

There was an energy in the room... can’t even describe it, just felt very special. Not a signing, a talk about the book and q's from the audience (pre-submitted).  Elliot felt very shy but also VERY naughty. Loved writing the sex scenes *grins* But by god, he's the happiest he's ever been. I've started reading the book, bit more than halfway through and GOOD LORD, he'd suffered soooo much!!! I can't even relate... which makes my HATE against people wanting to take away gender affirming care even bigger!!! *exhales* Anyhow, it was really good. Very inspiring. Soo soo powerful and soooo deserved!!!!

And then it was KIWI DAY!!  God, Im still sooo high on actually seeing him LIVE and SOOO close - even more amazing as I’d NEVER thought I’d ever get to see him (what with him being mainly US or Aotearoa based!)!!! Sometimes the universe works in mysterious and beautiful ways!!!

But first I went to Nottingham to see Sally and Pam! It was beautiful! They took me to Wollaton Hall which is fucking gorgeous, and we just had  a lovely wander around the park, seeing deer and blonde ducks, soaking up all the sunshine. After we went into Nottingham itself for some lunch before it was already time to leave again.

I arrived back in London around 6 and went straight into town, wanting to meet up with a friend who I knew back from the MTV awards (I was happy to actually know somebody at the show although I do NOT mind being on my own but it’s always nicer with people who know!)

Well, I totally forgot that the Mission Impossible premiere was happening at the same damn time!! Leicester Square was PACKED (and the Comedy Club is just around the corner!) So naturally I sneaked a peak, saw Tom Cruise and Simon Pegg (on a screen, they’re REALLY locking out normal people these days) but the excitement was too big so I went to the club.

And then the most magical thing happened: I met NEW people!!! (I mean, Ive had that ALL the time back in my old fandoms, but these days it happens so rarely so that made me REALLY happy). They approached me... because of the shirt and in the end we were four people, sticking together to watch the show - three of them with variation of THE Orange shirt!!!

First we sat 2nd row and then nobody wanted the 1st and then we just said, fuck it, we only get this chance ONCE (well, two of us) so we moved to the 1st row!!! God, that was close!! *lol* we weren’t too sure about it as neither of us wanted to get picked out for something  - it was stand-up so who knew! But yeah, the thing one does for that kiwi!! *cackles*

It was pretty packed, not sold out but still full enough. And a LOT of OFMD/Rhys fans!!!

Good Lord, I haven’t laughed this much in a VERY long time (and those who know me, know how much this was needed). Every act was different but all hilarious, and yes, everyone got ‘picked’ on, especially the poor guy stage right, he was on his own and by god, they REALLY went to down on him. All in good spirits but yeah, I felt a tad sorry for him in the end!

At one point, Thanyia (Moore), the host/mc started to 'target' us - she was amazing, charming, hilarious as fuck and soo gorgeous. Anyhow, she wanted to know whether we all knew each other (because of the shirts, I guess) and was slightly shocked that in fact, we did NOT know each other prior to the show. And then we told her WHY we were there (pirate show, duh) and she wanted a synopsis ... she got one (GAY pirates) and she made fun of it but she basically summed up our show! (I do NOT know whether or not she knew about it all, i figure she did but not sure!) Still, it was AMAZING!!! (Rhys later sort of went with it as well - asked who did NOT know who he is, and there were like 4 people or so!!! NEVER once mentioned the show tho).

And then it was time! Rhys fucking Darby took the stage!!! God, we were LOUD!!! *lol* And by GOD, that man’s gorgeous that close up!!! I mean, he’s lovely and all but seeing him from like a metre away??? BLOODY HELL!!! That SMILE?!?! GUH!!! And so fucking funny! (never really realized how HARD those sound effects are - his head looked like it wanted to exploded during them, which worried me a tad *hehe*)

There wasn’t anything new, had heard most of it here and there already but still, actually seeing him (THOSE LEGS ARE LETHAL, and THAT ARSE IS ASDFGHJKLÖÄ... dont come at me, he kept waving it into our faces, ‘kay!), almost being able to touch him... yeah, that was quite something!!! I LOVE that fact that he’s enjoying himself soo much as well, kept giggling at his own jokes which I LOVE!!!

It was over way too quickly. My stomach hurt, my face hurt and we floated back out into the night, gathering at the entrance in hopes of being able to see him. Sadly he got whisked away by the wife, but he waved at us in passing (and I feel he especially waved at us in our lovely orange shirts!) And then we all went our separate ways, having exchanged socials to find each other again!!!

I walked back home as I needed to burn that energy in order to get ANY sleep that night (even walked into hoards of people waiting at the back of the cinema for the MI cast).

What a night!!! So sad I couldn’t be there for yesterday or today, but hey, I never in my wildest dreams thought of actually seeing him live at all, so I shan’t complain at all!!!!

Plus, we got these (thanks to the very generous sharer over on Twitter!)!

first row is NOT made for taking sneaky pics so I’ll be forever grateful to them for sharing these!!!

*sighs* And Friday was leaving day... having to say goodbye to my beloved city is never easy but this time around even more so!

BUT I did have the most amazing time, met old and new friends, and once again 6 days felt much much longer!!! My heart is bursting with happiness and joy and it will keep me going until I can come back again - hopefully very soon!!!

[smartairservices1]

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[emergencyplumbingil]

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[jpbuildersus]

The Hidden Benefits of Rough Carpentry in Homes

When you look at your house, do you ever stop to admire the intricate beauty and craftsmanship of the rough carpentry? Nothing is as beautiful or remarkable as highly detailed artistry, which holds for anything from breathtaking staircases to exquisite shelf displays. Have you ever thought about what it is about that structure that makes it stand out from others? A notion that is sometimes misunderstood is that employing irregular forms of carpentry while making components for contemporary houses has some hidden advantages. Believe it or not, these benefits include cost savings. Continue reading to find out why tougher carpenter work might be crucial to any successful home renovation project.

It Can Make Your Home Look More Expensive The advantages of rough carpentry are only sometimes obvious, yet some of the most desirable houses in the world incorporate elements that are typically rustic. If you examine the finer points of a house that has been highly praised for its individuality, you may need some more work. Homes now regarded as architectural classics sometimes have deliberate flaws because their creators believed these flaws would improve the home’s overall aesthetic. The rough carpentry in your house is not anything to be ashamed of; you may be surprised at how much of an asset it is. The trick is to accept these flaws as opportunities to develop a unique and personal space. Investing the time and effort into giving each one a fine shine will save you money in the long run and make your house seem better than it would have without them. Rough Carpentry Can Reduce Noise From Outside Having a comfortable, distraction-free environment to get things done while working from home is crucial. Without any interruptions, you should be able to get your work done. This is why it’s crucial to have high-quality structural elements like walls, floors, and ceilings. Living in a house with shoddy woodwork might prove to be a blessing in disguise. How? Why? It may help drown out some of the more annoying noises from the outside world. Distracting sounds from the outside world, such as traffic or building work, might make concentrating on your indoor activities easier. If you cover such surfaces with smooth paneling or drywall, the noise will be much harder to ignore. Controlling outside noises may be distracting and frustrating when all you want is calm. It Makes It Easier to Paint or Wallpaper Over The Walls If you’ve ever tried to paint a room, you know how difficult it can be to achieve a smooth, even layer. This becomes much more apparent when a smooth layer of paint or wallpaper has been applied to the wall. Paint may not adhere to the surface as expected, leading to drips and splotchy areas. Rough carpentry, however, may alleviate this issue since it results in a more rugged finish. Walls with many bumps and irregularities have more “teeth” for the paint to adhere to, so a coat of paint applied to them looks beautiful across. In the case of wallpaper removal, this is an invaluable tip. It’s feasible to remove wallpaper on your own, but it’s a nasty, time-consuming operation that you shouldn’t attempt if you care about your walls. However, rough carpentry will leave behind lumps and ridges, making it much simpler to establish a uniform effect after you paint over the wallpaper. The uneven surface will serve as a primer for the new paint, allowing the color to adhere better than it would on a smooth one. It Provides More Room for Storage If you’ve ever constructed anything from the ground up, you know how crucial it is to plan for things like plumbing and electrical work. You probably have noticed how cluttered dwellings can become, even if you consciously haven’t. Having the largest home on the block is okay, but having some spare room is always welcome. How much stuff you can fit inside your walls and under your flooring is the key to making the most of your available storage space at home. Rough carpentry in the house has many potential applications. There is no end to the variety of storage that may be constructed, from built-in bookcases to secret compartments stuffed with priceless possessions. You may even buy “hidden” segmented shelving, a kind of cabinetry made especially for concealing items. When you open the door on the side of a regular bookshelf, you find yourself in a fantastical realm! JP Builders & Development offers customized services for every client and customer. We can help you with anything from a home theater to a two-story deck. If you want to build a garage or set up a playroom for your children, we are here to help! The possibilities are endless when it comes to our services. The first step is getting in touch with us today, so give us a call at (818) 699-0449.

[mariocki]

Infinite list of favourite lyrics: 196/?

The Kinks - Shangri-La (1969)

"And all the houses in the street have got a name

Cos all the houses in the street, they look the same:

Same chimney pots, same little cars, same window panes.

The neighbours call to tell you things that you should know;

They say their lines, they drink their tea, and then they go;

They tell your business in another Shangri-la.

The gas bills and the water rates, the payments on the car,

Too scared to think about how insecure you are -

Life ain't so happy in your little Shangri-la."

[kohakuarisaka]

Untamed (chapter 2 of 5)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, and then again in early spring. He would honker down up north in a secluded cabin. For the first time, he brought you with him.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Non-canon compliant: Hawks’ quirk does not work like this. Reader is a hero that works at Hawks agency. Pre-existing relationship. Reader is a female with female genitalia. Feral behavior. Rutting. Biting. Spanking. Slight BDSM. Consensual sex. Wing kink. Oral sex. Romantic relationship.

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As it turned out, 'secluded cabin' was a pretty accurate statement.

Hawks had arranged for a very discreet hero taxi service to drive you the 5-hour trip from Musutafu to a quaint mountainous village that was so small and quiet, you almost doubted it was even on the map.

Past the snowy village, through the winding roads and towering trees, over a bridge, past a frozen lake, and then some miles off the main road, tucked away in a small clearing, was a beautiful cabin.

While the days were steadily growing warmer as spring rapidly approached, it still snowed at night. The snow had melted off the trees from the warmth of the midday sun; but, there was still a light blanket of white on the rooftop and across the surrounding grounds.

There were no poles lining the street, nothing that could bring electricity to the house; however, you could see what was likely a generator tucked away in the back. Someone had propped the cover off and cleaned out the snow.

At that sight, it became obvious that Hawks had beat you here. He already taken to clearing the snow out of the entry way as well, exposing a beautiful cobblestone pathway.

You exited the vehicle and retrieved your bags from the trunk. The very second you closed the hatch, the driver made a speedy exit, wheels skidding in the snow as they backed out before doing a sharp U-turn and barreling down the road.

Luckily, the entrance to the cabin opened before you could worry that you had just been abandoned in the middle of nowhere. Sure enough, Hawks stepped out, wild blonde locks brushed back, a little fluffier than usual due to the change in humidity.

Despite how cold it was, he was wearing a black tank top and loose, light grey sweat pants. He even stepped out onto the cold stone pathway with bare feet. Yet, with a light flush to his skin, he didn't look cold at all.

You had been making a face when he approached, and he offered an explanation, uttering, "I told 'em not to linger. It's suspicious."

Some large plumes departed his wingspan and grabbed at your luggage, one even pulling your shoulder bag off your back. They whipped away, bags in tow, and zipped past Hawks and through the doorway, disappearing into the cabin.

The winged hero didn't immediately usher you inside, as he usually did in these types of situations, but arched over you suddenly, arms bringing you into a tight embrace while his lips captured yours.

The sudden closeness forced your back to arch. Unconsciously, your hands fell onto his barely clothed shoulders, and you felt how warm he was. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he was running a fever.

The kiss was brief, but uncharacteristically messy, not that you were complaining. It was a kiss of longing, like he had missed you dearly, as if it had been months and not a day and a half.

He pulled back, a distant, albeit blissful, look on his face. His eyelids sagged as if he was tired, but the gold of his iris was bright and his pupils were focused.

"I didn't get to clean yet, but - ugh - do you wanna see inside?" he asked, some slight nervousness to his tone.

"Yeah," you breathed.

Hawks stepped aside and you gently brushed past him and stepped inside. The wood floors creaked softly beneath your feet as you crossed the threshold. Immediately, you were hit with a wonderful scent, earthy, like tree bark, but sweet, like raw honey.

It was a decent sized cabin, spacious and not heavily furnished. The kitchen was on the small side, but seemingly to accommodate a larger living room.

As Hawks had warned, there was a thin layer of dust all across the wood floors. The furniture was covered by clear tarps, shielding them from the debris.

The dining area tucked away in the corner had a chabudai in place of a western style table. It was small and clearly only intended for two people. You had a feeling it was new, considering how spotless it looked compared to the rest of the cabin.

A huge, stone fireplace rested against the north wall, surrounded by large windows that gave a beautiful view of the outside. They were adorned with heavy curtains, pulled back to let the sunlight in.

Hawks was lingering, following close, staring down at you as you walked around and took in the sight of the place. When your eyes landed on him, and you caught his unblinking stare, you realized he was awaiting feedback.

It startled you a little, for Hawks wasn't the kind to fuss over these sorts of things; but, you had a decent enough understanding of what a rut was to know what was going through his head.

"Relax, birdbrain," you cooed, reaching up to tap gently at his cheek with a closed palm. That seemed to knock him out of his stupor, for he blinked and suddenly looked sheepish. He flickered his gold eyes away, as if to give you space.

"I love it," you praised, looking back into the living area. "Cozy, and smells nice."

You heard him exhale a relieved sigh through his nostrils.

"We should get to work. Where's the cleaning stuff?" you asked, peeling your jacket off.

"Oh. I'll-" he began.

"You'll let me help," you interrupted him gently.

When you turned back to face him, and saw the bewildered expression he was wearing, you wondered if maybe that wasn't the right thing to fit with his current state.

"Unless that's... bad?" you offered uncertainly, shoulders sagging.

Hawks laughed suddenly at the sunken expression on your face, as if the joyous sound came sputtering out against his will.

"No," he answered softly, leaning in suddenly for another kiss, as if he couldn't help it. You didn't get a chance to kiss back before he was retreating.

"Don't change," he sighed. "I want you as you, not as my..."

"-subservient housewife?" you offered, just a little teasing.

He chuckled softly, breathing out a harsh, "fuck, no."

Hawks maneuvered around you and headed for what you guessed was a supply closet. Inside, the cleaning gear was also neatly packaged in containers and safe from dust.

It made sense, how neatly arranged everything was. Hawks was a fairly neat person; but, it was also clear that he had this whole thing down, neatly tuned and properly sorted out. He had been coming here for years, after all.

This place was special to him. That much was clear.

The two of you started to dusting and sweeping, followed by a diligent mopping, with the two of you working in tandem.

Hawks was fairly quiet during the whole ordeal, seemingly focused sternly on the task at hand. It had been his nest for years. This was hardly anything new; but, it was now going to be yours, too.

He didn't tell you that he had been worried he would react negatively to your presence. He didn't always react rationally during this time. Seemingly average things would sometimes irritate him, and a part of the possessive onslaught included this abode.

Fortunately, that hadn't been the case. Cleaning the cabin with you was soothing. He wasn't unaware of the obvious implication: that you were preparing a nest together, your shared nest. He didn't say it aloud, but you had come to that realization, as well.

It had actually calmed him quite a bit. He had been on edge before you arrived, skin prickled with heat and sweating unreasonably considering the cold. Those weren't abnormal during his ruts; but, it felt intensified with that knowledge that you were going to be here.

Darkness swept across the forest as the hours dragged on. Luckily, you were just about finished by the time it got dark.

There was a neat stack of firewood arranged on a carrier near the fireplace, making you wonder if that was what he had worked on before your arrival. The logs looked freshly cut and heavy.

Crimson feathers delivered logs to the hearth. Hawks retrieved a set of matches from a cubby near the carrier and then kneeled before the hearth. He set one of the matches ablaze and carefully ignited the firewood arranged in the pit.

Warmth and light flooded the cabinet. Plumes gathered along the edges of the curtains and pulled them back, covering the windows. When they returned to his wingspan, he stepped back and monitored the fire briefly.

While cleaning, you had learned there was a cellar and partial second story, as well as an indoor bathroom. It seemed that the main use of the generator was to power the water heater and indoor plumbing.

The cellar was small, down a short flight of stairs, with concrete floors and walls, the perfect size for containing a month's worth of food and supplies, far more than was necessary for just a week.

The second story was a loft that oversaw the living room, giving a great view of the fireplace. There was no safety railing on the upstairs, likely for the very obvious fact that Hawks could fly. There was, at least, a staircase.

Upstairs, there was a large bed frame with a plush mattress, wrapped up tight to protect from dust, a large chest pressed up against the wall, and a desk without a chair.

After he removed the bed cover, you watched Hawks pull neatly folded blankets and pillow cases out the chest. It was fascinating to see someone, who normally slept wherever his body landed, so meticulously prepare the bedding: layers and layers of blankets, followed by dressing the pillows and laying them out.

It was especially perplexing because of the intense, concentrated look on his face. He had been so focused that he hadn't even realized that you had paused what you were doing to watch him.

Luckily, you caught yourself staring before he did, and shuffled back downstairs before he could notice.

A sudden howling had startled you, before a sharp wind rattled against the shutters. Something was thumping gently against the roof and when the wind picked up, you could almost hear the trees shuddering outside.

"It's snowing," Hawks observed, suddenly at your side.

You could see a glimpse of crimson in the corner of your eye, and realized he had a wing fanned out around you, not quite close enough to touch, but hovering. Maybe, he hadn't even realized he was doing that.

"Oh," you answered quietly.

Together, you prepared dinner, settling for a classic favorite of his: yakitori chicken and stir fry noodles.

Eating dinner together, and talking about nothing, made you realize, it had been the first time in a long time, if ever, that you hadn't discussed work: nothing about the agency, nothing about heroes or villains, nothing about police business or missions.

It was just senseless conversations that amounted to nothing.

The dining table was small and the floor was cold; but, your hands brushed constantly due to the lack of space. It made you realize that you had longed to have this type of moment with him, something so utterly domestic.

"I know it's not super late," Hawks began, on his way to the kitchen with the dirty plates. "But, I'm gonna wake you up early; so, let's get to bed, okay?"

His voice was soft, surprisingly drowsy, you realized, and he continued, "it's - well, there's something I wanna show you, and it looks best in the sunrise."

He had started the dishes before you could; so, you stepped in close, deciding to tease him a little.

"I bet you do look best in the sunrise," you uttered, leaning against the counter top near the sink, where he had busied his hands. He was looking away from you; but, you could see his lip twitch into a faint smile.

Hawks laughed, a low chuckle that rumbled through his chest. "Not me," he replied softly. Yet, he found himself feeling enamored with the knowledge that that was where your mind had wandered first.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" you offered, standing upright and shifting away from the counter.

"Nah," he replied simply. "I'll join ya' in a bit."

You changed into your pajamas, brushed your teeth and pulled your hair back, before heading upstairs. Blankets and pillows were stacked high on top of the mattress, making the bedframe disappear beneath it.

It not only looked incredibly warm, but incredibly soft, and an inspection with your hand, smoothing over the surface, confirmed that. There were several pillows pressed against the headboard and even more at the foot of the bed.

If you hadn't seen him arrange it, you would have doubted it was even Hawks' bed. From the glimpses you had seen into his life, he was a minimalist.

His office at the agency was fairly large, but looked almost comical with the lack of furniture in it. He wasn't one to buy much of anything outside of perishables.

"Take those off."

You had heard that commanding tone many times before; but, in the peace and serenity of this cabin, it startled you. Your shoulders twitched a little and you turned to face him, having not heard Hawks approach.

His gold eyes were glaring at your body, shifting up to meet your gaze when you turned to face him.

You gawked back at him, dumbfounded by his boldness, and a little intrigued, if you were being honest. He had warned you about this, and you were about to comply when his dark expression suddenly softened.

"Oh fuck," Hawks blurted, embarrassment washing over his face. The intensity of the moment dissipated and you found yourself unable to hold back a faint smile at the way his face so rapidly changed from anger to shame.

"Shit - I - sorry - ugh," he stammered, some redness tinting the tops of his ears. His dominant hand came up and ruffled his hair. "That was messed up. Ah - what I mean is, can we sleep naked?"

It was clear he wasn't embarrassed about the request, but the way that he had asked. You couldn't hold back a soft chuckle at his frazzled state.

"Of course," you uttered, and began shedding your clothes.

He was staring at your nudity as if it wasn't something he had seen many times before, as if his hands and mouth hadn't explored every inch of skin, hadn't touched and claimed parts of you your own hands couldn't reach.

It made you feel powerful, beautiful.

"Did you brush your teeth?" you asked, knocking him out of his stupor.

He didn't respond, but made a face that gave you your answer. He turned away then, and hopped over the edge of the loft, floating down into the lower floor, and scurried off to the bathroom.

Promptly, you disappeared beneath the blankets, shivering from the cold, skin prickled with goosebumps. You were about to scold yourself for complying with him so eagerly, without demanding a compromise, mainly that you expected him to warm you up.

Luckily, it didn't take him long to join you, and you suddenly felt a very warm, and very naked, body slot into the space behind you, wiggling beneath the blankets. It was almost concerning how warm he was, like he had just flung himself into the hearth before running back over here.

You rolled onto your back to greet him and Hawks wasted no time slotting over you, tangling legs, arms falling on either side of your head. Wispy bangs fell over his forehead, longer strands catching on his eyebrows.

Your eyes peered over his shoulders, where you could see his wings were fanned out above him, plumes stretched wide, looming possessively. When your gaze shifted to his face, your breath hitched.

His stare was hypnotizing, as if he couldn't believe you were here, gold eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit loft.

It made you sad to think just your presence alone had pleased him so much, whereas nothing else had yet to occur. It made you think of all the years he had to endure this alone, the loneliness far more straining than the lack of a pliant body.

"Hey," he began, voice hoarse, distant.

His dominant hand shifted from the bed to cup your cheek, thumb gently prodding at your cheek bone. Just like the rest of his body, his hand was so warm.

"I know I said I wouldn't let you leave," he explained, fingers sliding carefully across your temple. "But, if you want to, at any time, I'll call the taxi and-"

You leaned up, taking his lips in a gentle kiss to silence him. He moaned into the kiss, clearly surprised by your interruption. His hand departed your face, lowering to caress the side of your neck.

When you pulled back, he chased, not letting you depart from him quite so quickly. The kiss carried on for a short while, Hawks only leaning back when he was satisfied.

"No," you disagreed in a soft hum, hands rising to push strands of his hair out of his face. "I'm not leaving. We're going through this together. Okay?"

He let out a sigh that fluttered across your cheeks. "Okay," he agreed, as if he couldn't believe it.

Hawks shifted until he was lying beside you, one arm loose around your waist. You turned a little to lay on your side and lean into him, cheek falling comfortably into the pillow beneath your head, and felt him nuzzle into your back, bringing you as close as he could without ruining your comfort.

One of his wings folded carefully over you while the other sprawled out across the bed. The light from the fire just barely reached the loft, an amber glow that flickered with the dancing flames.

The sounds of the gentle snowfall outside was a little louder upstairs. One of the nearby windows rattled softly, trembling weakly from the breeze that shook the shutters. The rafters above creaked occasionally in melodic hums.

Behind you, Hawks' chest undulated with his breathing, moving against the skin of your back. His wings shifted ever so slightly in harmony with the expansion and shrinking of his lungs. The longer plumes on the ends twitched occasionally.

"Keigo?" you whispered.

He didn't answer. Judging by the way his arm had slackened where it rested over your waist, you figured he had fallen asleep already.

The bedding was soft, and you had no doubt that he had washed them diligently; yet, mingled with the earthy tones of the cabin, they smelt like him. The hearth crackled distantly, the sound a faint echo through the cabin.

It didn't take long to slip away.

• • •

• • •

Sometime in the middle of the night, you were woken by a strange sound. In your groggy state, it sounded like a distant animal cooing into the night.

Once you properly came to, you realized the warmth against your back had retreated. The blanket had been partially ripped away in the process, leaving the skin of your back exposed to the cold air of the cabin.

What had sounded far away you now realized was coming from right behind you, pained little noises and harsh wheezing. You rolled over to take in the sight of Hawks, blindly reaching for him in a moment of panic.

Worry struck you when your skin touched his. He had already been warm to the touch before; but now, his skin felt scorching, sticky with sweat. Your hand had landed on his chest, where you could feel his muscles rapidly rising and falling with each staggering breath.

The noise that had woken you became obvious then; he was panting, sharp and labored breaths that whooshed in and out of him, occasionally accompanied with a quiet, pained sound.

He had shoved the blankets away and was laying on his back, wings tucked in uncomfortably tight beneath him. Through the faint glow of warm light from the fireplace, you could see his chest raising and falling rapidly, head tossed back, face contorted in pain. Some strands of blonde locks were clinging to the sweat soaked skin on his face.

"Keigo - Keigo," you called to him, hands rising to his shoulders so you could shake him.

It wasn't until he jerked suddenly, eyes opening and head whipping towards you, that you realized he had been sleeping. His labored breathing intensified, but only for a second, before he started to calm down.

His gold eyes were glossy for a second, staring at you blindly, before he started to wake properly. His lips were parted, sharp breaths still escaping him in harsh wisps.

"Are you okay?" you whispered harshly. "Are you sick? You look-..."

You could see a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. Now, with him leaning up a little, you could see the flush of red tinting his skin, all down his chest and across his cheeks. His shoulder muscles were tight and his wings twitched helplessly beneath him.

"I'm f-fine," Hawks answered, voice low and hoarse. He swallowed roughly. "It's - it's a n-normal side effect."

"You're burning up," you hissed, hands touching his skin so carefully, like you would hurt him if you were too rough. "Are you sure you're okay?" you insisted.

"Just need-" he growled, cutting off as he tried to sit up.

His movement had repositioned your hands, causing them to drag from his shoulders to his chest, less you lose stability and collapse on top of him.

It was a familiar touch, a place you had touched him many times before; yet, he froze suddenly, gaze shifting down to your hands as if they were grounding him to this plane of existence.

Hawks' gold eyes fluttered shut and his pained expression softened. He flopped back on the bed, giving up his attempt to sit up as if he had suddenly lost all strength in his body.

Catching on, you uttered into the cold air, "is that what you need? Keigo, do you want me to-"

"Yes," he answered sharply, hissing through the cold, chilled air. He sounded relieved, thankful that you had offered before he had to ask.

"God, fuck - I - I need you, need to - to - be inside you-"

His babbling briefly ceased when you pushed the blankets off yourself and rolled on top of him, a gesture you had done many times before, now a nearly perfect art.

You watched, hypnotized as Hawks arched his back off the bed and flexed his wings until they were sprawled out on either side of him. The beautiful crimson plumes stretched out across the sheets, shuddering in faint waves that matched his heavy breathings.

In the shift, his cock became pinned against your inner thigh. If you didn't known any better, you would have thought he was prodding you with an iron rod pulled straight from the fires of a forge.

It was unbearably hot, hard as steel and painfully poking against your flesh. You could feel his heartbeat through his cock, throbbing against you as if pleading to be touched.

Arousal had never struck you this hard before, with enough force that it made your never regions throb and chest tighten. Blood rushed to your face so quickly, you briefly feared you would pass out.

Now, hovering, looking down at him, it was almost unbearable. It was clear that Hawks was in pain, and you felt a tinge of guilt at the realization that his state had aroused you.

But, the truth was, he looked stunning.

Maybe it was the red flush staining his skin, or the glisten of sweat, shiny with the reflection of the fire burning in the hearth. Maybe it was the way his gold eyes practically glowed through the darkness, staring up at you like a starving predator, glaring with dangerous intent.

Some sort of inhuman growl escaped him and Hawks grabbed at your meaty hips, roughly pulling you forward. It didn't take you long to figure out what he was doing; but, your attempts to aid were waisted, for he simply dragged you down to his liking, until the heat of your sex collided with his face ungracefully.

The first thing you registered was his mouth kissing sloppily at your sex. His tongue followed, lapping at your folds impatiently before breaching your heat. Hawks was always the kind to give sloppy oral; but, this was something else entirely.

He moaned shamelessly when his tongue registered your taste, hips rising off the bed as if attempting to chase a sensation that wasn't there.

Your hands fall onto the wall, and you tried to keep yourself up; but, he wasn't having it, growling and pulling you back down. It was difficult to not go dead weight when his tongue was lapping at your walls, mouth suctioned around your entrance like he was trying to suck juices from a ripe fruit.

One of your hands weaved through his hair, gently massaging his scalp in a praising gesture. It was difficult to get out sensible words. Instead, you moaned broken pieces of his name, thighs trembling on either side of his head.

You had no idea how much time had passed before he seemed satisfied and finally lifted you up enough to remove his mouth. The wet gasp that escaped him, suggesting he had been holding his breath, riddled you with shameful lust.

"You made a mess," Hawks observed deliriously.

He sounded immensely pleased with himself and even leaned in to take another taste, this time honing in on your pearl. You felt more than heard his pleased chuckle when you whined at the sudden touch.

This time, when he pulled away, he let you retreat. As you shimmied down his body, you caught him wiping your essence off his face with a careful finger before popping it in his mouth.

Hawks' skin was still flushed red, all the way up to his ears; but, now, he looked damn smug to top it all off. You couldn't see the look you were wearing, but you knew by the heat on your face that it was lewd.

The cold of the cabin had been lost to you, especially when you positioned your hips over his and felt the head of his cock nuzzle at your entrance, threatening to breach your core.

Hawks' head fell back into the sheets with a whine, eyes squeezing shut. Tantalized by the sight, you intended to tease him a little; however, he nudged his hips forward with a sudden jerk, effortlessly impaling you on his cock, and taking that opportunity away.

"Ohhh, fuck!" Hawks shouted before sucking his bottom lip beneath his teeth. He released it after letting out a low hiss.

You closed your own eyes for a moment, adjusting to the sudden intrusion of his impressive girth, and felt his hands slowly slide up your thighs into the dips of your hips, slotting over a spot he had practically engraved for himself ever since this began.

When your eyes opened, you looked down and took in the deliriously beautiful look on his face. His thumbs nudged your hip bones pleadingly and his eyes opened, peering up at you through dark lashes.

Forgoing any thoughts about teasing, you planted your hands on his chest and rolled your hips. The motion punched a whine out of him. The sound drawled out into a growl when you kept the rhythm, chasing your own pleasure.

"Yeah," he hummed encouragingly. "Come on. Use me. Fuck yourself on my cock. Just like - ahh - fuck..."

You hardly needed the encouragement; but, the dirty words spewing from his lips further ignited the heat in your belly, and you whined in response.

He could have easily pulled your hips down to intensify the moment. Instead, he lifted his hips off the bed to meet yours, effortlessly matching your movement and chasing the delicious warmth and wetness of your core, while letting his hands hold you gently.

"Baby, do you feel good?" Hawks uttered lowly, his pleading question gently breaking through the moment.

"Y-ye-s, Kei - go," you sobbed, stuttering out your response and groaning halfway through his name.

It was always good; but, something about this moment made it more intense than ever before. You could already feel the sensation rising, thighs trembling every time his cock slid back inside, hitting the perfect spot again and again.

"Yeah?" he hummed, sounding so breathless and fucked out, despite you having just barely begun. "You feel good, so fucking good," he praised between labored pants and low moans.

"You're so fucking good to me," Hawks babbled on, head falling back into the sheets, where he closed his eyes. You watched his adam's apple bob, noticed how tight his jaw was clenched.

A growl vibrated through his chest, followed by a breathless sympathy of curses, "oh fuck - oh fuck. Come on, fuck my cock - yeah - ahhh. Ya' hear that? Those sounds. God, you're so f-fucking perfect."

Your union was loud, skin slapping together and wet, fleshy sounds echoing between the two of you.

His dominant hand released your hip and slid around, thumb prodding between your folds and seeking out your pearl. You were already so sensitive, feeling him so deep, teetering on the edge. When his calloused skin touched that spot, you let out a cry.

"Come on this cock," Hawks groaned. "Sooo close - f-fuck. Come on. Come for me. Fucking come. Gonna fill you up. You want that? My seed. Yeah you fucking d-hnn-"

His babbling ceased when your orgasm took you, the sudden spasms and fluttering of your walls making all sensible thoughts drain from his mind.

His hand returned to your hip, fingers gripping your waist, and he started roughly dragging you up and down to meet his thrusts. You went limp, letting him bounce you on his cock to your liking. Your hands slipped off his chest and you fell onto him, forehead knocking gently against his cheek.

You could hear him huffing and grunting, the occasional growl seeping through, right into your ear as he fucked you through your orgasm, and continued on, chasing his end.

His cock throbbed, firmly enough that you felt it and the sensation startled you a little; but, that thought was lost when he let out an uncharacteristically loud shout, crying out in ecstasy.

Hawks had always been loud; but, this was something else entirely, and the moans and growls didn't stop, along with his undulating hips, for what felt like an eternity.

To top it all off, you could feel it, spurts of his seed, burning hot as it filled you. In the corner of your eye, you could make out his feathers, each and every one trembling beneath him.

Then, finally, he went still.

Hawks' panting filled the room, almost loud enough to drown out the crackling of the fireplace. Even after his panting died down, he let out quiet groans, his orgasm having not yet waned in full.

Eventually, he turned his head and pressed a wet kiss against your cheek. You turned your head to meet him, at first catching the corner of his mouth before he angled his head to kiss you properly.

You could practically feel the praises behind each kiss, thank you's and love pouring from his mouth to yours in a nonverbal gesture. His hands ran up and down your back, massaging your skin but also ensuring that you didn't move and he remained deep inside you.

When he finally released your lips, you busied your hands with his wild mane, gently pushing strands away from his face. He seemed to like the preening, letting his eyes flutter shut and head fall back.

You didn't have to ask if he was feeling better. His all-body, harsh red blush had mellowed out and he wasn't panting like a parched dog.

You hadn't realized you were still trembling until he uttered, "it's okay," in a soothing, worried voice.

His hands shifted to your thighs, where he carefully pushed them back and rolled you onto your side, keeping his cock nuzzled deep. His arms wound around your back, bringing you into an embrace while his wings stretched out behind him before sagging comfortably to the bed.

You realized, as he brought you in, that you were still shaking a little. The worry was evident in his eyes, like he had done something wrong.

"D-do you want me to pull out?" he offered in a weak voice.

"It's not that," you replied softly. "That was... intense."

When your eyes locked with his gold orbs, and he took in the sight of your expression, it seemed to steadily become clear to him, what you were feeling. His lips sought our your skin, senselessly kissing whatever he could reach, all over your cheeks, down your chin and along the expansion of your throat.

Hawks’ head fell onto the pillow and his wispy blonde hair tangled with yours. The unease began to fade away as he held you close, bringing the blanket back over your forms when his intense heat finally started to wane. So did the spell, and something concerning struck him.

"Please, tell me if it gets too intense," Hawks uttered, breath fluttering out against your temple. “I’ll-...”

He cut himself because he wasn’t quite what he would do, what he could do. Could he stop? In this moment of clear thoughts, he sure hoped so. But, part of him feared that wasn’t true, and the last thing he wanted was to lie to you about what he was capable of.

You had figured that he had yet to hit the apex of his rut. Yet, his warnings hadn't frightened you in the slightest, especially after what had just occurred. If anything, you were enticed by it. Maybe, in some strange way, it was affecting you to.

"I can handle you," you promised.

You felt more so than heard the uneasy breath that stuttered out his nostrils. Your words stirred something deep in his gut, overcoming the fear, burning arousal and adoration.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Bedtime Stories

Penny (Stardew) x They/Them Reader

A/N: Woo! With this, I have completed a fic for all the Stardew Bachelorettes! Hope ya’ll are ready for Penny time! Word Count: 5,618

(Y/n) stretched their arms way above their head, reveling in the pulling of their back muscles and the dull crack of their spine. They had been out foraging all day and their pack was full of blackberries, mushrooms and nuts. A very good haul.

They shivered a bit as another breeze blew through. The skies had only gone dark about an hour ago, but (Y/n) was ready to call it a night and turn in to their warm and cozy farmhouse.

They walked up the dirt path past Marnie’s ranch to their farm, smiling when they saw the light of their house in the distance. The children must have been giving Penny a hard time tonight. Usually they’d be asleep before (Y/n) got home, but they could get restless on occasion.

As soon as (Y/n)’s boots thudded against the wooden stairs, they could hear excited cries from within, and soon a small head poked out from behind the front door before swinging it fully outward.

(Y/n) flung their arms out to catch the small body that flew into their legs, soon joined by a smaller, more clumsy one.

“You two are up rather late, you aren’t giving your mom a hard time, are you?” (Y/n) asked their children.

“Mommy said we could wait for you if we ate all our veggies at dinner so we did. We did good so we’ll grow up to be strong farmers like you!” The older of the two exclaimed.

“Oh yeah?” (Y/n) grinned.

“Yeah!” The younger child shrilled.

“Well, now that I’m here, it’s time for bed isn’t it?”

A duet of displeased noises met (Y/n)’s ears but they quickly devolved into giggles when the farmer attacked them with tickles. Once the children were disarmed, (Y/n) slung them over their shoulders and bounced them into the house, meeting the loving eyes their spouse gave them from the couch.

Penny sat in a pile of rumpled blankets no doubt put there by their rambunctious children. In her lap was a book of fairy tales that usually served her well when bedtime came around but tonight it seemed it was not enough.

“Hi, love. Welcome home.” Penny smiled sweetly, getting up to meet (Y/n) halfway. She hugged them around the middle before lightening their load by taking the smaller child off their hands.

“Hi sweetheart, how was your day?” The farmer asked, setting down their eldest child so they could remove their bag and boots.

“It went well. The children were so diligent with their studies. I was very impressed.” Penny said, making sure the kids were aware of how proud she was of their work.

“That’s great! I’m really proud of you two.” (Y/n) praised their children while they glowed with pride.

“So we can stay up late and watch tv?” The eldest asked hopefully, the parents merely laughed at the suggestion, making the children pout.

“Afraid not, sleep is very important and I think now would be a good time to hit the hay.” (Y/n) said, already trying to corral the kids into their bedroom.

“Not yet! We want a story at least!” The younger proclaimed, agreement was quickly voiced by their older sibling. Rarely it seemed they could come to a consensus so quickly.

“Oh? Well, I suppose one story wouldn’t hurt.” (Y/n) agreed. “Go brush your teeth first, please.”

The children toppled over each other, trying to get to the sink first so they could rush back to the living room.

“They have so much energy.” Penny remarked with a content sigh, leaning into (Y/n)’s side.

“No kidding,” (Y/n) chuckled, rubbing Penny’s arm, “I could have really used the extra help in my first year of living here. Now I’ve got auto-feeders and sprinklers. A little late for fall, but I suppose they could help with the spring planting, maybe that would slow them down a bit.”

“Shhh, it’ll be a long winter and I don’t need to hear, ‘is it spring yet?’, everyday before then.” Penny playfully warned.

“Your wish is my command.” (Y/n) nodded, pulling Penny down onto the couch to cuddle with her, making the teacher hum with delight and shyly steal a quick kiss.

A few minutes later, two bouncy young children crawled over their parents and wiggled into their sides and under the blankets with happy giggles.

“Alright kiddos, which one?” (Y/n) asked once they were all settled, patting the heavy book on their lap.

“We don’t want one of those stories tonight.” The eldest said.

“You don’t?” Penny blinked, confused by declaration.

“We want to know how you met each other and got married.” The eldest explained, the younger nodded along.

“It’s a long story kids.” (Y/n) said. They may have been trying to dissuade the children, but there really was a lot to cover. Seasons and seasons worth.

“What’s so long about it?” The younger child asked. “Didn’t you just know you liked each other so you got married?”

“People don’t get married right after they meet each other, honey.” Penny gently corrected.

(Y/n) definitely had a, ‘well, not usually anyway’, kind of look on their face but the warning look Penny gave them convinced (Y/n) to keep their mouth shut.

“Oh, I still wanna know though.”

“Me too!”

“(Y/n)...” Penny called upon her spouse.

“Okay, an abridged history, how ‘bout?” (Y/n) shrugged.

The children seemed content with that, once Penny explained to them what abridged meant, and looked to (Y/n) expectantly with shining eyes.

“Okay, it all started—“

“Once upon a time!” The youngest screeched, making everyone wince.

“Inside voices, dear.” Penny reminded.

“Sorry, but the story has to start with once upon a time.”

“It’s not a fairytale, you know.” The older said.

“It’s alright,” (Y/n) interjected with a grin, “it feels enough like one being married to such a sweet person.”

Penny turned away and blushed, a small bashful smile working the corners of her lips upward.

“Once upon a time...” (Y/n) began again, much to their youngest child’s delight.

***

“Oh my Yoba, this place is a mess.” (Y/n) groaned.

They had kept a brave face for Robin and Mayor Lewis, but now that they were gone, they voiced how overwhelmed they felt freely. They looked over the overgrown lot that was supposed to be the farm their grandfather had left for them.

“What if this was a mistake? Am I doing the right thing? I don’t want to crawl back to Joja but...” (Y/n) growled, thwacking the dirt hard with their hoe, “No! I just got here, I can’t quit yet.” They said, strengthening their resolve.

After a few hours of alternating between being proud with their progress and wanting to cry because there was so much left to do, (Y/n) decided they wanted to check out town. They just really needed to freshen up first.

To their dismay, but not surprisingly, the old farmhouse didn’t have indoor plumbing, but they didn’t worry because they knew there was a bathhouse in the mountains they could use.

“When I get paid, the first thing I’m gonna do is contract Robin to build a bathroom. I hope she’s as savvy with plumbing as she is with carpentry.” They mumbled to themself as they walked up the mountain path.

Entering the bathhouse, the space seemed void of life, the only sounds being the steady drip of water over the tiled floor. (Y/n) claimed a vacant locker and took a shower. After the day they had, it was the best shower they had ever had.

Once clean, (Y/n) decided they’d spoil themself and swim around in the heated pool for a bit before heading back to the farm. They put on their swimsuit and headed on in. Expecting to be alone, they hummed and sang as they made their way to the main room, enjoying the way their voice reverberated off of the walls and echoed back into their ears.

“Um, hello.”

“Wah!”

(Y/n) nearly slipped on the wet floor from the shock. A woman with vibrant, orange hair was sitting in one of the near corners of the pool. She seemed to shrink into herself under (Y/n)’s wide gaze.

“Oh wow,” (Y/n) laughed awkwardly, embarrassment flooding their tone, “I, uh, didn’t realize anyone else was here, sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” the woman smiled albeit, a bit tightly it seemed. “I was thinking about getting out anyway.”

“You don’t have to leave!” (Y/n) fumbled with the towel in their hands, “I promise to be quiet and give you your space. It’ll be like I’m not even here.”

They skittered across the tiled floor and slid into the opposite side of the bath, giving the woman her space.

A few painfully awkward minutes passed. (Y/n) leaned over the pool edge and counted the nearby tiles, the bricks on the wall... anything to occupy them until the other occupant left or a non-suspicious amount of time passed and they could leave themself.

“Who... who are you?” The woman asked, finally breaking the silence.

(Y/n) craned their head to face her, eager to introduce themself and hopefully make a better impression.

“I’m (Y/n). I just moved in. I live at the old farmhouse just west of town so you’ll probably see me around from time to time.”

“Oh, I see,” the stiffness of the strangers shoulders seemed to lessen, “Well, I’m Penny. It’s nice to meet you.”

(Y/n) grinned brightly as they swam closer to Penny, all previous worries forgotten. “It’s nice to meet you too, Penny! I hope we will be great friends.” (Y/n) suddenly splashed the water beneath their hand as another thought popped into their mind. “Hey, do you have any favorite vegetables or fruits?”

“Um,” Penny shrunk back, a bit intimidated by the farmer’s sudden approach, “Oh, I don’t know...”

“Surely there’s something, don’t be shy.” (Y/n) encouraged.

“I, I like melon?” Penny more asked than told. Her back digging into the edge of the pool a bit uncomfortably.

“Melon,” (Y/n) nodded sagely, backing up a bit from Penny’s personal space. ���Yeah, I could do that! You’ll have to wait for summer though, is that okay?”

“Wait?”

“Yeah, I can start planting melon in the summer. I’d do it sooner, but the seeds won’t take. I’ll be sure to give you the first one I harvest though!”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Penny waved her hands in front of her.

“I insist.” (Y/n) heaved themself out of the warm water, “Man, Penny, I have to thank you. You’ve inspired me to get back to work! I got to see if there’s anything else I can clean up around the farm before nightfall. I’ll see you around!”

“Okay, bye...” Penny watched them jog into the changing room, gasping when the farmer slipped on the tiles but continued on their merry way. She wasn’t sure what to make of the new addition to Pelican Town, but they seemed kind enough.

***

The next time Penny had seen (Y/n) was during one of her lessons with Vincent and Jas. She had been reading about the history of the valley when Vincent had waved excitedly at someone behind her back. Thinking it was just Sam or Jodi, Penny attempted to continue on with her lesson but she soon came to a stop when Vincent took to excitedly calling after the passerby.

“Hey, farmer! Good morning!” Vincent yelled.

“Really now Vincent,” Penny lightly scolded as she held her finger over the paragraph she had been reading, “you need to focus on the lesson.”

“Sorry Miss. Penny.” Vincent apologized. “But I see Farmer (Y/n). They’re so cool.”

“They’re probably busy—“

“Hi, Vincent! And a hello to you Jas and Penny.” A friendly voice cut in.

Penny looked up from her spot in the grass and watched (Y/n) approach, their arms full of daffodils.

“What’s going on here?” They asked once they were standing next to the group.

“School.” Vincent answered matter-of-factly. “Miss Penny is reading about history.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were a teacher Penny. That’s really neat. I’m sorry for interrupting your lesson.” (Y/n) said, turning their attention to Penny.

“It’s alright, you didn’t know. I apologize if Vincent has distracted you from your own work.” Penny politely stated in kind.

“No worries, I’ve just been foraging around the valley. Leah posted a request for some dandelions but I couldn’t seem to find any today. I got a whole bunch of daffodils though. Would you three like to take some off my hands?”

“Wow, thanks!” Vincent quickly grabbed one before Penny could even think about declining.

Jas shyly took one for herself, still a little intimidated by the fresh face. She’d been growing a little more used to them though, thanks to Marnie’s encouragement.

“A flower, milady?” (Y/n) asked Penny again, sporting a warm smile that made the teacher feel like the heat of the day was starting to get to her.

“Thank you, this looks special.” She said, gently cupping the flower in her hands.

“You’re welcome. It’s no melon, but rest assured that summer will be upon us before you know it,” the farmer declared before spotting Willy in the distance. “Oh! Hey guys, I gotta go catch Willy to tell him about all the chubs I caught yesterday. It was good talking to you, see you all later!” They said before jogging off.

“Bye (Y/n)!” Vincent waved.

“Bye...” Penny and Jas said together, much more subdued than the young boy.

Penny watched (Y/n) until they disappeared into the saloon before turning back to her book. Her face tinged pink as she twirled her daffodil in one hand and picked up where she left off.

***

Summer rain pelted the metal of the trailer, thumping loudly with each drop, but Penny blocked it out easily as she read all cozy in her bed. Occasionally she would snap up a bit of freshly cut melon from the Tupperware resting on her nightstand and smile to herself.

(Y/n) had made good on their promise and had been pushing their fresh melons onto Penny since midsummer. Another sweet bite and Penny sighed pleasantly whilst marking her page with the daffodil (Y/n) had given her in the spring, now a dried and fragile makeshift bookmark.

The farmer was so warm, gentle. Better than anything her books could come up with and yet they somehow existed in her reality despite being too good to be true.

Since their somewhat uncomfortable origin, Penny could not have been more happy to have encountered them in the bathhouse that day. Even after getting to know each other better, even after (Y/n) had seen the messy state her mother kept the trailer in, they never treated her any differently.

“Penny,” the teacher jolted at the sudden knock and the rasp of her mother’s voice through the door, “I’m heading to the saloon. You want anything?”

“No thanks, mom.” Penny sighed. “I was thinking of making dinner myself tonight.”

“Alright honey. I’ll be back late.” Pam informed, her footsteps rocked the trailer slightly and the rickety front door closed loudly, signaling the older woman’s departure. At least now that the bus had been fixed (by who else but the resident hero farmer) her mother had less time to spend drinking.

Penny scooted out of bed and headed to the kitchenette and turned on the stove, putting a large pot on the flame. She had been trying to make something to give (Y/n) in thanks. Something for all the good they’ve been doing for the town and for treating her so kindly.

She began her experimental stew, pouring whatever she had on hand into the pot that she thought would taste good. She was so absorbed in her creation that she almost missed the knocking on the trailer door.

Penny turned off the heat and went to answer the door thinking it was probably just Vincent with another excuse why he couldn’t return his homework in time. She was surprised to see (Y/n) waiting outside.

“(Y/n), hello,” Penny greeted, beckoning the farmer out of the rain, “please come in, it’s pouring buckets out there. You must be soaked.”

“I’m okay, it’ll take more than a little rain to take me out.” (Y/n) smiled as they stepped into the trailer. “Hi Penny, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all. I was just cooking.” Penny bashfully admitted. So much for the surprise.

“Oh that’s cool. What’re you making?”

“Oh just some stew, I was actually hoping to give it to you,” Penny blushed, “for all the good you’ve done for the town.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet of you Penny. You didn’t have to do that.” (Y/n) said. They could feel their heart beat pick up in tempo at the gesture.

“I wanted to. Here, have a taste.” Penny presented a ladle full of soup to (Y/n), her blush grew warmer as the farmer leaned in close to take a taste before pulling themself to stand straight once more.

(Y/n)’s smile tightened the more they chewed, sweat dotted their forehead.

“Are you alright?” Penny asked, watching the farmer continue to chew.

“Mhmm.” (Y/n) squeaked, giving Penny a shaky thumbs up. Then they swallowed none too easily. “Wow,” they breathed, well, more like gasped, “that sure was something Penny. Thank you for sharing.”

“Is it really that bad?” Penny frowned, disappointed.

Immediately (Y/n) jumped into action, waving their arms, “It wasn’t bad at all! I was chewing so long because it tasted so good, I didn’t want it to end!”

Penny gave the farmer a doubtful look before looking down at the leftover stew in her ladle and raising it to her own lips.

“Wait, Penny—“

“Oh dear, that is vile...” Penny gagged. She hardly had so much as a sip before tossing the rest back into the pot. “I’m sorry, (Y/n). I should have tested it first...”

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re learning. It took me a lot of practice to learn how to cook too.” They assured. “If you want to come over sometime I could teach you a thing or two.”

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt. You’re always so busy...” Penny said, already contemplating how she was going to get rid of her hot, liquid garbage.

“You wouldn’t be interrupting anything. All I really need to do is water the crops and feed the chickens. I can take it easy every once in awhile. Besides, I’m always looking to spend time with you anyway so... yeah,” They rubbed the back of their neck.

“Really?”

“Yeah, so if you ever want to plan something... I’d really like that.”

“Okay.” Penny nodded, nervously fiddling with her hands. “I’d like that too. Very much.”

“Cool! Nice, yes.” (Y/n) practically sparkled at the affirmation. “When do you want to meet up?”

“Is Tuesday fine?”

“Tuesday is great! This is so exciting!” Just as the farmer pumped their fists over their head, a loud burst of thunder shook the trailer. “Wow, it’s a monster out there.”

“Yes, you should stay for awhile. At least until it calms down a bit... movie?” Penny suggested, gesturing to the little DVD player in the corner.

“That sounds like a great idea,” (Y/n) followed, their hand reaching into their bag, “I almost forgot I came to give you more melon!”

“You spoil me, really. How much melon do you think one girl can eat. I’m still working on the last one you gave me.” Penny giggled quietly.

“Fall will be here before long. Best to enjoy them while you still can.” They half-joked, sliding into the seat of the booth.

Penny slid into the seat beside them and popped open the DVD player. Maybe the melon season was coming to an end, but at least the farmer who planted them was here to stay.

***

By mid fall, Penny and (Y/n) were nearly inseparable. Any free time they had they usually spent together cooking in (Y/n)’s farmhouse, relaxing in the bathhouse or curling up with some books or other media.

The day was unusually warm for fall and Penny decided to treat Jas and Vincent to a picnic in the Cindersap Forest for all their hard work. While they ate and went through their lesson, Penny saw the farmer and waved them over without a second thought. She was simply thrilled to see them and thought their presence in the woods must have been fate.

“(Y/n), wonderful timing seeing you here. I was just teaching the children about natural resources. Could I trouble you to talk about how natural resources are involved in farming?” Penny asked once the farmer came up to them.

“Sure, I’d love to!” (Y/n) nodded.

Penny stared off dreamily at (Y/n)’s side as they explained what they knew about the valley’s resources while wondering how she could be so lucky as to know them. Once (Y/n) had explained a large amount of their process, Vincent raised his hand.

“Question, Vincent?” Penny asked, impressed that the boy seemed so invested in the lesson.

“Yeah, are you dating anyone Farmer (Y/n)?” Vincent asked.

“Uh, no. No I am not.” (Y/n) laughed, rubbing the back of their neck.

“Vincent!” Penny said, aghast.

“What?” The young boy questioned.

“You can’t just ask people stuff like that, Vincent.” Jas spoke up. “My auntie Marnie told me that when I asked her if Mayor Lewis was her boyfriend.”

(Y/n) and Penny gave each other an awkward side glance. After the incident with the bush, (Y/n) had to tell someone about it, and Penny had been the unfortunate mock therapist in that scenario.

“Ah, well, no harm done.” (Y/n) laughed. “Any questions related to the topic of natural resources?”

Penny observed how well (Y/n) got along with Jas and Vincent and thought they would make a wonderful parent. When the lesson had concluded and the children were playing by the river, Penny couldn’t help but ask (Y/n) if they had ever thought about having a family before.

“Every once in awhile I do. I think it would be nice. It would make the farm more lively at least.”

And with that admission, Penny couldn’t help but hope that one day, (Y/n) might see her as a suitable partner to share their life with.

***

Winter was, well, cold.

But Penny was glad for it because there were no crops (Y/n) needed to attend to and they were therefore, more available. They spent much more time together in winter than the previous seasons.

Today, Penny was heading to the farm for another cooking lesson from (Y/n). She was getting much better with the skill. She could even get her mother to spend more nights away from the saloon with the promise of a hot meal.

Penny stepped up onto the snowy porch and knocked her gloved hand against the wooden door. She could hear clattering from within the farmhouse and waited patiently for (Y/n) to usher her in.

“Penny, hi, glad you could make it!” (Y/n) grinned as they opened the door, guiding Penny in by the waist,

“Thank you for having me.” Penny flustered at the contact, despite her thick coat blocking the farmer’s touch. “What are we making today?”

“I thought some warm snickerdoodle cookies would be great on a cold day like this.” (Y/n) said.

“That does sound good.” Penny nodded as she hung up her coat and stepped out of her shoes. Then she followed (Y/n) to the kitchen and they got to baking.

Before long, the smell of cinnamon and sugary goodness permeated the space and the chill of the winter air outside was long forgotten. They were just getting ready to settle in with a movie when (Y/n) excused themself for a minute to go grab something from another room. It reminded Penny how small the farmhouse used to be before (Y/n) had commissioned Robin for a few projects.

Penny nervously eyed the bag she had left at the door. Was now a good time to bring out the bouquet? Penny had been silently agonizing over it all day. She had bought it from Pierre almost on impulse, she knew who she wanted to give it too, but what if (Y/n) saw her only as a friend and wasn’t looking for anything different? It was sure to make things weird between them.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Penny jolted in her seat as (Y/n) reappeared, something held behind their back. She quickly assured (Y/n) that it was alright and motioned them over to the couch so they could start their movie.

“Wait, Penny, can I ask you something first?” The farmer asked, still standing in the stairway.

“Of course.” Penny nodded, concern seeping into her tone. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No! No, at least, I don’t think so. I just wanted to ask if you would want to... and you can always say no, you won’t hurt my feelings... okay, it might sting a little but I’ll get over it—“

“(Y/n), what is it?” Penny asked, standing up and walking over to the fumbling farmer. She had never seen them look so shaken.

The farmer seemed at a loss. Opening and closing their mouth until finally they just brought their hand out from behind their back and presented Penny with a bouquet of their own. The teacher gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth in elation and surprise.

Without saying anything Penny bounded over to the front door and opened her bag, producing her own bouquet and delighting (Y/n) to no end as she wrapped the farmer in a tight hug.

After hours of cuddling on the couch and half paying attention to their movie, Penny decided she had to get home, despite (Y/n)‘s offers to have her stay over. She needed to make sure her mom didn’t overdo it at the saloon.

A quick glance around the bar and she noted that Pam wasn’t there. She gave Gus a polite wave before heading home. Upon arriving, she found her mother already settling into the pullout for the night and their eyes met. Pam’s eyes drifted down to the bouquet secured in Penny’s arms and grunted.

“It’s about time.” Pam grumbled before turning over on the noisy mattress.

Penny could only smile at her mother’s gruffness before retiring to her room to quietly continue celebrating in her own space.

***

By the fall of the third year since (Y/n) had moved into town, the pair became a well established couple and it was just common knowledge to suspect if one was out and about, the other couldn’t be too far off since they were practically joined at the hip.

Some of the townies had expressed worry that the farmer was shrinking off too much of their duties but in reality, the farm was a well oiled machine now and required little maintenance. The farmer had worked themself to the point of passing out on their farmhouse floor on occasion to get to this point. Money was hardly an issue anymore for the farmer who, quite literally, built their legacy on five hundred gold and a handful of parsnip seeds.

“There you are,” Penny kissed (Y/n)’s cheek chastely as they plopped down next to her under her favorite tree, “where have you been?”

“Just needed to take care of something quick.” They said, leaning their head against Penny’s shoulder.

“And what would that be?”

“I was talking to Robin. She had a request up.”

“And what did she want?”

“You are full of questions today, sweetheart.” The farmer laughed.

“And you aren’t being as forthcoming with information as usual. Usually, I wouldn’t even have to ask before you tell me all about your adventures, big or small.” Penny pointed out, “I do believe you might be hiding something.”

“No way!” The farmer scoffed before slouching a bit more because of the look Penny gave them, “Okay, maybe I am hiding something, but it’s a surprise. Give it a few days.”

“Just what might you be up to, hm?” Penny smiled, cupping (Y/n)’s cheek.

“You’re a teacher,” (Y/n) laughed again, “you should know what surprise means.”

Penny sighed before laughing along with her partner. Then the couple went in about their day and before long, the thought of (Y/n)’s surprise left her mind and she had forgotten all about it by the time Jas and Vincent’s lessons were over for the day.

A couple days later, (Y/n) had invited Penny and Pam over for lunch. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. One of the things Penny appreciated most about (Y/n) was their willingness to reach out to Pam and build a good relationship with her as well. However, what made this trip particularly extraordinary was what waited for them where their old, rundown trailer used to be.

“Oh, Yoba...” Pam breathed, a hand placed heavily over her heart as she stared up at the grand looking house.

“Robin, what is this?” Penny asked, nearly as breathless as her mother and just as overwhelmed.

“I got commissioned for a community upgrade,” the carpenter smiled, “I hope you guys like it!”

“This is too much... how can we— who commissioned this?” Penny asked, running her fingers through her bangs.

“Anonymous donor,” Robin winked before making her way back up to the mountains, “enjoy the new house ladies.”

Penny hugged her mother while she cried and together they entered their new home, unsure how they could ever thank the donor enough. It didn’t take long for the mother daughter duo to figure out the identity of the commissioner. After all, there were only so many people who could pull off such a project and have the funds necessary to complete it.

“I’m going back to (Y/n)’s!” Penny called out. It felt weird having to actually throw her voice enough for her mother to hear her across their new house.

Pam managed a wave, still a bit overwhelmed by the vast space surrounding her.

Penny practically ran to the farm, the seashell pendant her father had gifted to her mother so long ago grasped tightly in her hand. Breathing heavily, she knocked on the door and waited for the farmer to appear.

“Hey Penny, did you forget a book or something? It must be good for you to run all the way over here for it.” They laughed, “come in, do you need some water—“

“I love you,” Penny declared, leaping into (Y/n)’s arms, “I can’t believe you did that for us.”

“Did what?” (Y/n) asked, looking a bit coy.

“You built my mom a house you wonderful busy body.” Penny said, smacking their shoulder.

“What? Did Robin tell? I asked her to keep it a secret.” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n), it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you were behind that project,” Penny sighed, “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for anything. I was happy to help get the ball rolling. I love you guys and you do so much for Jas and Vincent, you deserve it. Now,” (Y/n) shifted a bit uncomfortably, “what exactly is digging into my back right now?”

“Oh!” Penny pulled back a bit, but kept the pendant out of (Y/n)’s sight. “I’ve only dreamed of doing this until I met you, it’s never felt more real, tangible. Oh my, this is nerve wracking.” Penny blushed.

“Take your time dear, breathe.” (Y/n) regarded Penny with soft eyes, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“(Y/n),” Penny spoke after a moment of collecting herself, “will you marry me?”

Penny presented the pendant, her eyes struggling to look at the farmer directly, but when the farmer pulled her back into another tight embrace she melted into their arms like warm butter.

“Yes, I love you! Yes.” The farmer cheered, their voice muffled by Penny’s shoulder. The vibrations, and words that created them, made Penny giggle with delight.

They stumbled into the farmhouse to celebrate their engagement, basking in each other’s company.

“I almost feel bad.” Penny suddenly stated, curled up in (Y/n)’s arms.

“Hm? What for, sweetheart?” (Y/n) asked as they ran their fingers through Penny’s hair.

“Mom will be in that big house all by herself. I’ll still see her everyday though, it’s not like I’m moving to Zuzu City... the idea of not living with her after all this time just feels odd.”

“I can understand that. It’ll take some getting used to. Just think of how nice it’ll be though, when somewhere down the line, we send our kids to grandma’s house for visits.”

“That does sound really nice. I’m really looking forward to starting a family with you.”

“Me too.” (Y/n) said. Then they leaned in to kiss Penny’s nose with great care and affection.

***

“Then a couple days later, we were married in front of the whole town.” (Y/n) finished softly, looking fondly over at Penny.

“That’s a nice story,” the eldest child yawned, “I wanna stay at grandma’s house again soon.”

“Of course, sweetie. We’ll work something out soon.” Penny promised whilst adjusting the fast asleep younger sibling in her lap, “now, it’s time to go to bed.”

“Alright,” The older child sighed before yawning again. “Carry me.”

(Y/n) released an amused exhale before standing and hoisting their child into their arms. Penny followed suit with the other, tucking them into their beds and kissing them goodnight.

Together, (Y/n) and Penny retired to their own room, falling into bed with tired groans.

“Those kids can be handful sometimes.” (Y/n) said, smiling all the while.

“Yes, and I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Penny rolled over to peck the farmer on the lips, “love you, sleep well.”

“I love you too, sweet dreams. I can’t wait to do this all again tomorrow.”

“Neither can I.”

[monocytogenes]

Here’s the answers for Pravinquisition Pravin (referenced ask meme here)

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

So, I’ve spent a weird amount of time looking at Orlesian fashion, and it’s kind of a late 16th/early 17th century mishmash--you’ve got ruffs going on (as well as Celene wearing something reminiscent of one of those standing collars), men running around in doublets and breeches, etc. (with a few later styles mixed in--the dresses with the long bodices peaked after 1650.) Style-wise, I tend to park Pravin around the 1630s, because you cannot tell me this man isn’t fucking his way through Orlesian society in fabulous hats. He’s an actor, damn it, of course he is.

Here’s what this means in terms of dress and undress--for men, undergarments consist of a long linen shirt and hose (maaaybe some kind of underbreeches, but a lot of guys just tucked their shirt around their legs.) Put on the doublet/breeches and--while you might also add a coat/jacket for cold or fashion reasons--you’re basically decent to go out in public. That’s the level of dress Pravin would be comfortable at in most situations, and he might even leave his collar a bit open for sexy reasons.

It’s also worth noting that taboos around nudity and privacy are probably a little different in the culture he’s living in when compared to modern western societies; this is still a setting where you don’t have indoor plumbing, so there’s probably bathhouses in urban areas, and you’re probably sharing a bed with (and changing clothes near) your family members on the regular. So I imagine that he wouldn’t be uncomfortable about showing off his body in those contexts, but wearing less clothes while out and about would be something he’d associate with being poor, dirty and disreputable, when his goal is generally to appear fashion-forward, handsome and materially successful.

12. In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been? 

From the ‘contented’ angle of the word, there’s this phenomenon in preindustrial societies where people would go to sleep when it got dark, wake up for a little while, then go back to sleep until the morning. So long as he isn’t brooding from nightmares, I imagine this is one of the times in which he tends to feel calmest. (This is also a time people used for sex a lot, so yeah, plenty of positive associations for him there.)

Also, if you’ve ever played/performed music, you’ve probably experienced that state where you’re like...in flow, I guess? Like, not scrutinizing what you’re doing/reflecting on it like an observer, but totally focused and absorbed in the act. He’s definitely experienced that while performing, which I suppose you can interpret as a kind of calm.

35. How does your character behave around people they like?

Well, Pravin tends to like people in general unless they’re straight up assholes. He has a strong capacity for empathy and enjoys hearing about people’s opinions, experiences and feelings, so he tends to come across as friendly and charming in a way that’s more open than arrogant.

As with his agent version, I think one of the differences between how he interacts with people he sort of likes and those who he’s actually kind of attached to is his willingness to offer help/take care of tasks for them. This is why much of his relationship with Thalia is characterized by him trying to give her advice and assist her with stuff; he’s been fielding parasocial relationships with his admirers for the past decade, and to him verbal praise and physical affection just don’t mean as much as thoughtful acts of support. I think he has a tendency to view himself as one of those ‘I get my hands dirty so other people don’t have to’ folks, so he has a habit of quietly solving problems behind the backs of the people he cares for too, which isn’t always the best course when his ethics are edgier than theirs.

(This is not to say that he wouldn’t feel something about Thalia, say, giving him a thankful hug, cause he’d know what she meant by it and she’s a little awkward as it is and...god, it would be cute. I love them.)

[tsukidrama]

The Road Not Taken

{I Doubted If I Should Ever Come Back}

ᴀɴɴɪᴇ ʟᴇᴏɴʜᴀʀᴅᴛ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ / ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴀɴᴛ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ: references to ptsd and language

Chapter 2 - Fathers and Daughters

Summary: Construction on the house is complete and Annie’s father moves in. Despite his insistence that he’s fine, Annie worries about his leg.

cottagecanon | ao3 | wattpad | ♫

← Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 →

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: inspiration drawn from mine and my wife’s real life in-law encounters. i never expected to love this man the way i do... he’s tryin. also introducing the first of the farm animals, best girl Cinnamon!

It takes a month to finish the construction of the cottage. A couple of times you resorted to inviting your friends over to help — who of course, were more than happy to help in exchange for a meal at the end of the day (and the promise of your help if they want to build their own house later on).

Appliances and basic lighting are installed by half a dozen more hands than you have between Annie and yourself. Reiner and Jean take over most of the heavy lifting. You don’t even ask them to step up when it comes to attaching appliance fixtures to the plumbing, but their contribution is invaluable. You stay inside with Connie and Armin putting up wallpaper while everyone else is a room behind the three of you, waiting to install paneling, trim, and the flooring as soon as you move onto a new room.

Raising the barn is the most difficult effort, but eight people take care of it quickly. Once the framework goes up, the boys (plus Annie and Mikasa) put up the walls while you and Pieck follow with paint and rollers in hand. With all of you working together, it takes four hours from start to finish.

By the end of the fourteen hour work day, you see the place transform from a construction site into a fully functional building with electricity and running water. Windows and doors are sealed into place, and the tiling on the roof is finished.

You host the first social event of your new house at dusk, and you all sit inside the newly constructed barn with kebabs in your hands (the easiest and most portable meal you could think of for so many people that’s still cooked over the fire pit) laughing and making memories. It’s the first time you’ve tried to cook for that many people, and it brings out a warmth in your chest when others offer up their praise.

The most time-consuming part of finishing the interior of the house was decorating it. Painting and detailing was finished in three days. It took another few days to deliver and transport the furniture. Once it arrived at the house, lugging it up the front steps took less time than it took for Annie to decide where she wanted to put everything. Eventually you start unloading boxes of pots, pans, and other cooking tools over in the kitchen, and all the while you hear the creak and scrape of the couches and desks being pushed around in the next room over.

The first night you spend at the house is the day the two of you struggle for an hour to haul a queen-sized mattress around the curve in the indoor staircase. Eventually you manage to bend it in the middle, and Annie uses a surge of strength to deadlift it while you guide it in the room. The mattress falls down on the bedroom floor at long last. That first night you don’t even bother to put on sheets, and you just collapse together in a mess of limbs.

The next morning, you come up with the idea of building a makeshift pulley. You lift the rest of the furniture onto the upstairs balcony from outside. It’s much faster and avoids a lot of the hassle than trying to squeeze wooden furniture up the narrow stairs. Instead, you leave the double doors open and drag everything inside with ease.

Three days later, it comes time where the house is complete enough for Annie’s father to move in. The morning she leaves to go get him, she kisses you goodbye and promises to be back before lunchtime. So naturally, you pace nervously around in the garden for half an hour instead of getting ready.

It isn’t huge, but the garden is the outdoor center of the house’s living area, with a path leading from the back porch of the main house to Annie’s dad’s in-law suite. Between the pathway and the porch sits a small metal table with matching chairs, and on the other side lies several rows of plants (which are at this point, just seeds germinating in the dirt).

You can’t sit still, so you end up clearing and watering the garden, sweeping the porch, and chopping up the vegetables for your lunch while you start to cook. The food is nearly finished and smelling quite delicious by the time you hear the carriage rumbling in the distance. At first you jump and shift nervously, and switch off the stove burner so your food doesn’t burn.

As you unlock the front door and pull it open, Annie and her dad’s voices come into your range of hearing. You step outside and wave to them while you walk down the steps. The carriage, a small open-top wagon on two wheels pulled by a single horse (a brown and white spotted mare, who Annie bought at an animal auction before you began construction on the house, and who you both had grown quite attached to), comes to a stop at the end of the walkway.

“Welcome! How was the ride?” you ask the both of them as you open the carriage door.

Annie smiles, and releases the reins that steer the horse, who Annie had dubbed Cinnamon. She hops out of the carriage and hugs you from the side. Her father puts his hand up in greeting, but doesn’t say anything.

“It was fine,” she says, “but we’re definitely ready to stretch our legs.” She tugs at your arm and stands on her toes, and you bend down to give her a quick kiss.

Before her dad gets out, Annie leans back inside the carriage to grab his cane for him. She offers out her arm for him as he steps out, which he takes.

It takes a few long seconds for him to shift his weight from the seat and to the ground while maneuvering around his bad leg, and balancing on the side of the carriage and Annie’s arm. She steadies him until he’s on both feet, then hands over the cane.

“Did you make it over in one piece, Mr. Leonhart?” you ask.

“Eh, well enough. You know you can call me Papa, Y/N.” he shuffles forward a few steps, and Annie walks with him.

He comes closer to you, and extends one of his arms. For the briefest of seconds, you’re confused, and you almost reach out to steady him before you realize that he’s not stumbling, he’s going in for a hug.

“Oh!” you exclaim. You react on instinct, and hug him back with both arms. His hand rubs your back during the embrace, and pats your back twice before you let go. You can’t help but feel a little bit heartwarmed at the unexpected paternal gesture.

“Well, uh, Papa,” you stutter out, hoping that you aren’t visibly flustered, “I have lunch almost ready in the kitchen whenever you’re ready to eat.”

“I am starting to get hungry...” he remarks, and glances over his shoulder at Annie.

She smiles. “Did you still want me to give you a tour, dad?”

“Mm, yes,” he says, though he looks down at his stomach. “And then we eat?”

“Yes, sir.” You assure him.

Papa looks to Annie. “A quick tour, then?”

She nods. “Let’s get your bags out of the carriage first.”

“I can get them myself,” he says, but Annie is already pulling his suitcases out of the back. “Annie, give them here.”

“I’ve got it!” she insists, with a suitcase in each hand and one tucked under her arm. She can’t even take a step without the bag underneath her arm slipping down, and she has to pin her elbow against her body awkwardly. It’s clear that she very much does not have it.

“Annie,” her father repeats, “give them here.”

Predictably, Annie does not willingly hand anything over, though she doesn’t stop her dad when he grabs the handle of the suitcase about to fall out from underneath her arm.

She narrows her eyes, but doesn’t argue with him as he takes it from her.

“We’re going straight to your room,” she tells him, “I’ll show you the way. Just keep walking toward the garden, you can get there through here.” She points in the direction of the gate.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going...” Papa mumbles, more to himself than to anyone else. He hobbles down the pathway toward the garden at a slow, leisurely pace. He continues to mutter under his breath.

Annie tosses a glance back at him before she comes back to your side. For the time being, she drops the suitcases beside her as she steps into your embrace. You instinctively reach out to hold her hands in yours.

“He’s not actually upset, is he?” you ask, concerned.

She turns back to you and tilts her head in confusion. “Of course not. I haven’t seen him this excited in ages.”

“...Oh. Are you sure?” you crane your neck to look at Papa, who is about a third of the way to the garden gate now. “I think he’s still grumbling.”

With the way Annie looks at you, you might as well have told her that he had grown a second head. She turns around to do a double take.

“He’s literally smiling,” she looks confused, and says it like it’s obvious.

To you, it looks like he’s wearing the same solemn, slightly bored expression that he always has on his face, but you don’t argue.

“My mistake,” you say, shrugging. “Do you want me to come with you? Or should I go back inside and finish getting lunch ready?”

Annie squeezes your hands. “Well, my dad did say that he was hungry...” she trails off, then looks back up at you. “Would you mind finishing up in the kitchen? We’ll only be a few minutes.”

You smile back at her softly. “Of course I don’t mind. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Before she leaves, you plant a kiss on her cheek. Annie blushes and takes off in the other direction with her dad’s bags in her hands. She beats him to the gate still (though hardly) and swings it open, holding it with her foot until he makes his way all the way through.

Her voice carries across the yard as she goes on indistinctly about what she did to build the fence. You gaze at her fondly as you watch her and her father disappear behind the side of the house. Once they’re gone, you turn around and take a look at the horse.

“Come on Cinnamon,” you tell her, patting her flank and unhooking her from the front of the carriage, “let’s get you out of here.” She whinnies as she clops forward, and looks back at you. You pat her head, you slip the reins off of her head.

A snort and another few pats later, Cinnamon trots to a nearby patch of grass to munch on it happily. She’s a good horse — she’s always stayed close to the house and you trust her not to bolt. She is a bit mischievous, with a bad habit of kicking shut the barn door with herself on the outside. Later she’d whinney up a storm and slam on the door panickedly until one of you let her inside.

You glance around the side of the house again to make sure the back door of the barn is open for her, and when you see that not only is it open, but a rope secures it to a nearby fence, you go back inside the house and lock the door behind you.

Once back in the kitchen, you turn the stove back on and let the main dish heat up. You transfer the side dishes onto decorative plates and set them in the middle of the table.

A few minutes later, you hear Annie's voice coming up the stairs of the back porch. You stir the pot on the stove, then pour three glasses of lemonade and place them at the table.

Before they come into the house, you open the door for them. You peer outside to see Annie at the top of the steps, leaning down while extending a hand to her dad. It takes him several long seconds to get up onto the porch, and he alternates between balancing on the railing and Annie's outstretched arm. They don't seem to notice you at first, and you listen in on what they're saying to each other.

“Can you walk on the pavement okay? I can redo it if it bothers your leg.” The worry in Annie's voice is noticeable, and once her dad reaches the top of the stairs, he waves dismissively.

“No, it’s alright," he says, and immediately changes the subject. “You really built this all by yourself?”

Now the annoyance in her voice is clear. “Me and Y/N, yeah. Some of the others still living in town helped with the big stuff.”

“The two of you should be proud. You make an excellent team.” Papa takes his cane back from Annie and limps past her. His face lights up when he sees you standing in the doorway.

"Y/N! Your brickwork is excellent, and you are a fine craftsman. This is a beautiful home."

"Thank you, Papa. Truthfully, I was just doing what Annie told me to. We both know she's the one who deserves all the credit."

He lets out a small chuckle and rests a hand on your shoulder. "Take the compliment.”

You laugh, a little nervous. “I just made everything look pretty. Annie did the heavy lifting.”

“And the moderate lifting, too,” Annie chimes in, and closes the kitchen door behind her.

"It's true," you tell him, nodding.

Papa looks around the room, scanning the (currently messy) countertops and looking over the baskets you use to store food.

“Good kitchen,” he remarks, then wordlessly moves on and walks out of the archway toward the rest of the house. Before she follows him, Annie shoots you an excited thumbs-up. You wave her over.

“Is he that excited about everything?” you ask, chuckling dryly.

Once again, Annie doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm. “I’ve never seen him happier. It feels good.”

Smiling warmly, you rub her shoulder as she continues on happily. “Well… He might have been happier when they chose me to be a Warrior...”

You raise your eyebrows. “I think the walls in the living room might top even that. You should show him. I’ll come with you.”

"Shut up. But yes, come on,” she says, and grabs you by the wrist to pull you along with her, “You should have seen the look on his face when I showed him his room. He said it reminded him of home. He won’t see this coming. I’m so excited.” She pulls you through the archway out of the kitchen, and rounds the corner to the living room.

Papa is standing beside the front door, and he pushes the curtain aside to look out for a moment.

“Dad, I want to show you something," Annie says, and gestures towards the living room, “over in here.”

It takes him several seconds to hobble past you to where Annie kneels down next to a clear patch of the wall. As he passes you, you do notice his stone-faced front crack as he looks around. Pride gleams in his eye, and the very edges of his lips turn up ever so slightly.

“Well I’m not going to crouch down...” he says, almost jokingly. Though you still aren’t sure if he understands humor the same way most humans do.

"You don’t have to. See the molding at the base over here?” Annie points at the paneled brown and white wood, “I did it like that so it would look like the living room in Liberio.”

Papa squints down at the paneling. His eyes widen, and for the first time you see unmistakable emotion from him. “Oh… oh!” he exclaims, and leans forward as far as he can manage, “This is amazing! It looks just the same — how did you-?”

Annie is radiating happiness, and it’s a beautiful alternative to the apathy that you’re used to. She still tries to hide it by covering her face with her hands, and she keeps tucking her hair behind her ears nervously.

“I remember you said you missed the house in Liberio,” she says, “so I tried to make it look as similar as I could. I painted my bedroom the same color blue I had as a kid.”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to even remember such a detail like that, much less be able to recreate it so perfectly. Even the carving on the paneling... You’ve really outdone yourself here, Annie.”

Annie smiles so big that her dimples show for a moment before she presses her lips together in an attempt to suppress it. Her eyes bounce from her dad to the wall and back to you.

She gives you a look, and though she doesn’t say anything she gives you a slight nod. Wordlessly she signals you that you’ve seen what you came to see.

You let her have some time alone with her dad and go back to your food in the kitchen. Once again you turn the burner off, and stir the pot.

You take a few minutes to prepare the table as you indistinctly hear the sounds of Annie and her dad talking and walking in the next room. You scoop portions of the main dish onto three plates and set them at the spots in front of chairs.

At some point you can hear them climbing up the stairs. Annie’s light feet patter up a few steps, then she waits until her father catches up to her. He’s slower and clunkier than her, but he still makes it up the staircase more quickly than you would have expected him to.

A small timer on the counter dings in completion, and you remember the rolls in the oven. You grab a cloth and take them out. After you transfer them to yet another decorative plate, you place it on the table.

You light a match to light the two tall candles you had placed on the table to make it look fancier, making sure that the flames aren’t close to the flowers (some pretty off-white species of lily native to the local flora that you know Annie likes) you placed in the very center as well.

As you step back and make sure that the table looks nice, you begin to hear Annie and her dad coming back down the stairs. They move a little more slowly this time, so you take the time to finish setting silverware down at each of your spots.

Then, you wait. You sit down and sit expectantly for your dinner companions while idly sipping on your lemonade.

Annie enters the room first, and her father follows a few paces behind her. You notice that he looks a little winded, and judging by the way Annie keeps casting worried glances over her shoulder, she’s noticed, too.

She pulls out the chair directly across from you, and gestures towards you. “Come sit down over here, dad.”

He takes a moment to rest in the doorway, and stays there long enough for her to exchange a nervous look with you. She walks toward him and extends an arm. “I’ll help.”

Her father waves her offer away dismissively. “Relax, Annie. I’m coming as fast as I can.”

She sulks, but she does stand down and plops in the chair next to you.

“Smells delicious!” Papa inhales, and he sighs happily. “I can’t wait to dig in.”

He eases into his seat with a groan and reaches for a roll of bread. He leans his cane on the back of his chair with his other hand.

Annie shoots you a quick glance, and you can tell that she’s still concerned. When she looks back at her father, she’s about to open her mouth to say something.

Before she gets the chance to do so, a thud and subsequent crash from outside interrupts all of you. You jump, and drop the fork in your hand. A little eep escapes you, and you look around embarrassedly as you notice that neither of the Leonharts had flinched.

“Damn it,” Annie mutters, then she sighs. “I think Cinnamon shut herself out of the barn again. She won’t stop until someone lets her back inside — I’ll be right back.”

You groan. “How does she keep doing that?” The rope tying the barn door open didn’t last very long; it had only taken the horse a few days to figure out how to undo your efforts.

She stands up and rolls her eyes. “I’m going to have to change the direction of the hinges if she keeps doing this.” Annie keeps talking as she walks away, muttering to herself, “I’m not running across the yard three times a day for a horse.”

She lets the door close behind her, and you turn around in your chair to watch her go. In the few moments that your back is turned, you hear a rattling.

The second she leaves the room, Papa’s composure drops. He’s rubbing his leg, and noticeably wincing. In his hand is a small bottle of pills. He pops the lid off and shakes two or three into his hand then hastily swallows them. After a brief pause and another wince, two more pills rattle out, and are subsequently thrown back into his mouth as well.

He gulps down a few sips of lemonade from his glass, and after a few seconds of sitting with his eyes closed, he looks up.

“Don’t tell her that it’s this bad. I wanted to he able to see all her hard work.” Although his words are serious, you shake your head.

“I think she’d feel worse if she knew you pushed yourself so far.”

He waves your words aside the same way he waves Annie away. “Oh, that’s beside the point. The entire ride over here all Annie talked about was showing me this place she’s built, and I owe it to her to give her that.” He sighs, and then finally looks up at you. “You saw the way her face lit up when she was showing me around. She’s so proud of herself, and I’m proud of her.”

You aren’t sure whether he’s pitying himself or just praising his daughter. You try to keep your response positive. “She’s really happy to have you here. She tried hard to make it a home you’d love, too.”

Solemnly, he nods. “I can tell how much effort she put into this place — the panel molding in the living room… I can’t let my leg get in the way of her excitement.”

“It was the stairs, wasn’t it? The ones up to her bedroom.” Despite the one bed and the fact that there’s no way he doesn’t know, you can’t bring yourself to call the room you’re sharing with Annie ‘ours’ in front of her dad.

He nods for a second time. “It was. And I won’t be climbing those again. The ones up the porch are bad enough,” he cranes his neck to look through the window, to check and see if Annie was coming back, you assume, “I’m serious, though. Don’t tell her about the leg. Or the stairs.”

“Papa—” you begin to protest.

“The least I can do for her is let her do something that she wants,” he interrupts, “I won’t make her feel guilty over this, not when it’s my fault that it happened.”

You want to argue with him, and you aren’t sure if it’s even possible for you to keep a secret from Annie. Yet, you’re starting to see exactly where Annie gets her staunch disposition from, and if you know anything about her, you know how useless it is to argue with someone so stubborn.

“I’m not going to say anything.” You tell Papa.

He takes another sip of his drink. “Thank you. You’re a good kid, Y/N.” An odd smile appears on his face. “This isn’t a bad thing for you. You two will get plenty of privacy.”

A bright red blush springs to your cheeks, and you stammer for a moment. Thankfully, you hear Annie’s footsteps coming back up the stairs. You silently thank her for saving you as she opens the door again.

When she walks back through the room, you’ve never been so happy to see her.

“Sorry about that,” she says, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. What were you talking about?”

Papa starts talking before you have the chance to say anything. “The house. I was telling her about my room.” He pauses, and takes another sip of his drink. “I liked how big the windows are.”

Annie nods. “Did she tell you she was the one who chose them? I was going to go with smaller ones.” She rips apart a roll and tosses a small piece of bread in her mouth.

Her dad takes a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. “That doesn’t surprise me. You’ve always liked to sit in the dark, Annie.”

“I guess those days are over,” she chuckles, and takes a bite. “You saw how much light comes into our room during the day. This is really good, Y/N.”

The mention of the two of you sharing a bedroom again causes your blush to deepen so much that your ears are hot. Underneath the table Annie reaches over to touch your thigh right above the knee and gives you a gentle squeeze. It brings you enough comfort to clear your head and shake off some of your embarrassment.

Papa grunts his agreement, his mouth too full to answer properly. You take it as a compliment, and finally take a bite yourself. It is pretty good, if you do say so.

“Thank you,” you say, and warmth spreads in your chest. Underneath the table, you hold Annie’s hand.

You learn that afternoon that meals with your new, awkward family are much more lively and conversation-filled than you had anticipated. At the end of the meal, Papa insists on doing the dishes -- though halfway through when she notices him tire, Annie goes from passively observing to actively helping, and it speeds up the process.

Papa goes to his room for a nap once the dishes are drying. You can’t bring yourself to lie to Annie when she looks you in the eyes and asks you if he mentioned his pain around you.

You confess to her that he struggled with the stairs, but you keep your promise to Papa and don’t tell her the extent of the pain. You don’t have to. That evening, Annie rips the nails out and tears apart the staircase on the back porch. While she hammers away outside, you bring Papa another glass of lemonade and sit with him in the living room.

An hour later, after hauling extra wood from the barn and cussing so loud that you can hear it from inside, Annie drags you both outside to present an unpainted yet structurally sound ramp in the place of the staircase.

Papa doesn’t say a word, he just shakes his head and descends the ramp (without issue) to wrap his arms around Annie’s shoulders. Her arms snake around his back and she wordlessly returns the hug. You don’t say anything, and after a few moments you can hear them talking to each other.

Again, you leave her to have a moment alone with her dad. You go inside and add paint for the ramp to your shopping list.

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Chapter Summary:  Carapace helps Ladybug and Chat Noir build a bathroom.

Word Count:  2491 | Chapter 3/?

XXX

Carapace leaned over the back of the couch.  That made his hood-like mask slipped down over his eyes; she’d need to take his measurements and make adjustments.  Just one more thing to put on her list.  

“So. Bathrooms, huh?”

“Bathrooms.”  Marinette sighed, slumping back on the couch.  She had a notebook in her lap, but all of her ideas so far had been scratched out.  

She couldn’t Lucky Charm a toilet.  (She’d tried.)  She refused to dig a hole and just let Chat Noir Cataclysm the waste periodically.  (Ew.)  She’d even spitballed ideas with some of the kwamis, but like Plagg, none of them really understood the need for a bathroom.  Instead they just floated in front of the TV, playing Mario Kart on Chat’s Switch.

Carapace settled down on the couch next to her, sipping his Carpi Sun and watching the race. Kaalki was winning as Princess Peach, with Wayzz driving Bowser close behind.  Orikko seemed content to let Yoshi trail near the bottom of the rankings.  Xuppu as Donkey Kong was in last place, on account of him refusing to hold the remote right-side up.

“Do you have any ideas?”  She handed her notebook to Carapace.

“You don’t have to build a bathroom, y’know.  I thought it would be cool, especially if we all have a sleepover sometime, but you’ve already done a ton for us. We can deal.”  

She knew they could, but it would make her feel better to have a bathroom, too.  

(Plus, she’d aced her Physics exam last week.  It would be nice to repay Chat Noir somehow.)

“We’ve come this far.  I’m not going to give up now,” she said.

Carapace squinted down at the paper.  Flipped to the next blank page.  Flipped it back.

“Uhhhh… so what do you have ‘this far’?”

“...Pretty much nothing.  But I’m sure there’s a solution!  If I can figure out how to use a Lucky Charm every fight, I’m pretty sure I can come up with something as simple as indoor plumbing.”

“Maybe you’re thinking about it wrong.”  Carapace shut the notebook.  “You don’t write things down when you’re figuring out a Lucky Charm, right?  You just… I don’t know, it always looks like magic to me.”  He smiled sheepishly.

It wasn’t part of the miraculous magic.  It was just the way her brain worked.  But he had a point—it might help to look at this from a different angle.

“You’re right.”  

She stood, smiling at Wayzz’s laughter as the kwami crossed the finish line.  It was good for him to spend time with his friends again, which was why she’d met Carapace here this evening.  She hadn’t yet passed on the code for anyone else to open the Miracle Box.

“I’m going to need to borrow Kaalki,” she told the kwamis.

“Me?”  Kaalki frowned, pointing a hoof to her chest.  “What for?”

“I’m… not exactly sure yet,” she admitted.  Kaalki’s Voyage was definitely part of her plan, but she was still missing a few pieces.  

She scanned the room, gathering objects that caught her eye: a colander from the kitchen, the dragon choker in the open Miracle Box, the sewer map tucked behind that.  Then her yo-yo and the turtle bracelet on Nino’s wrist.  So close, but it still didn’t quite add up.

At least she had an idea of what she might need the yo-yo for.  She flipped it open and clicked on one of her few contacts.

“Bugaboo?”  Chat picked up on the first ring.  “Miss me already?”

“It sounds like you missed me, if you’re out and transformed.”  She smirked.  “Meet me at the base.  We’re putting in the bathroom.”

XXX

“I know your plans are usually pretty complicated, but are they always so…”

“Clever?  Amazing?  Inconceivable?”  Chat Noir asked while brushing off his hands.

“I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” Nino  said automatically, then shook his head.  “I was gonna say messy.”

“Not always.  It’s about fifty-fifty.”  Ladybug—well, Dragonbug, technically—used a broom to sweep out the black dust left over from Chat Noir’s Cataclysm.  It wasn’t enough dust to account for the huge chunk of rock that had been there.  His power must do more than just break things; it actually destroyed them.

Miraculous of destruction.  Duh.  Still, it was super cool to watch the magic up close and personal.

He could hardly believe Ladybug and Chat Noir had picked him out to hold his miraculous full-time.  Alya would’ve killed for a chance like this, and he couldn’t even tell her about it.  He kept worrying he’d accidentally let something slip, and then she’d use her nosy reporter skills to get the whole truth out of him.  

So far he’d been lucky.  Even if he almost cackled when she called “Carapace” a ninja-turtle wannabe.

“Carapace?  Are you ready?”  Dragonbug faced him.

“Huh?  Oh, yeah, of course!”

He stepped into the small room Dragonbug and Chat Noir had finished carving out.  The only thing that stood out was the cylindrical hole in the wall, just a little bit above his head.

His job was to use Shellter in the back of the indention, leaving just a fist-sized gap in the front of the spherical shield.  Luckily he’d practiced different barrier formations since Chat Noir had broken the news about his Miracle Box shield.  He still hadn’t found a useful way to protect the box, but he could make a shield with a hole in it now.

“Shellter!”  He called while plunging his fist into the hole.  Green light exploded inside, pushing the dirt and stone outwards.  The wall trembled slightly, but held.

“How’s that?”  He asked with a grin.  Dragonbug’s plan didn’t make sense to him yet, but he was sure it would be awesome.

“Perfect.”  She clapped him on the shoulder before they swapped places, her own hands inside the hole.  “Now—water dragon!”

He and Chat Noir peeked over her shoulders, trying to see what was happening.  

“You’re making a water tank,” Chat Noir realized with a grin.  “See?  What did I tell you, Cara?  Inconceivable.”

Nino just laughed.  At times like this, he felt like he wasn’t an outsider on the team.  As crazy cool as Chat Noir and Ladybug were, they weren’t larger-than-life.  They were just… dudes, like him.  There was no need to get starstruck like Rena.

Dragonbug capped the hole with the end of a plunger, her latest Lucky Charm.  Nino was just glad that hadn’t been for a toilet. 

“If I get you some measurements, Chat, can you do some math for me?  I want to know how much water this actually holds, and how many showers it should supply before we need to refill it.”

“Depends on how long your showers take, but sure.  I’ve had some physics problems like that before.”

Dragonbug used her sword to puncture a few smaller holes in the wall, then secured the colander over the top of the plunger.

“So it’s like a shower head.”  Nino nodded.  “Smart.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Carapace.”  She smiled at him.  “You were right.  I was thinking too hard, when we had everything we needed all along.”

His face warmed a bit under her praise.  “I didn’t do much.”

“It’s not always about what you do, turtle dude.”  Chat Noir slung an arm around his shoulders.  “We’re a team now.  And even though LB’s usually the brains, we all support each other.”

“Chat’s right.  Wayzz picked you for a reason, and so did we.”

It was cool that they the heroes wanted to include him, but it was hard to take them seriously when they’d all just jerry-rigged a shower together.

“Because I’d help you build a bathroom?”  He joked.  

“Come on, we were having a moment!”  Chat pulled back and playfully punched him in the arm.  “You’re supposed to be thinking wow, the amazing Chat Noir picked me!”

He cracked a grin.  “Ladybug’s right.  You’re a real drama queen, bro.”

Chat Noir gaped at his partner.  “When did you say that?”

“Most recently?  About an hour ago.  But if you meant how many times I’ve said it, I’ve already lost count.”

“You wound me, my Lady.”  He clutched his hands to his heart.  

“See?  My point exactly.”  She waved her sword at him with a smirk.

He sighed.  “Walked right into that one, didn’t I.”

“Yeah.”  Nino patted his shoulder consolingly.

“Maybe one day she’ll be the king to my drama queen,” Chat sighed again, but this time in a more lovesick sort of way.  The same way Marinette always sighed over his bro Adrien.  If Alya hadn’t expressly forbidden him from interfering in any way—and if Chat and Marinette weren’t both so hopelessly in love with their own crushes—he might’ve tried to set the two of them up on a blind date.  At least then they could both be dramatic together.

“Good luck with that, dude.”  

“Are you going to stand there sighing, or actually help me?”  Ladybug had her hands on her hips.  She’d already dismissed Longg, who flew to hover by Kaalki.

“You know I’m always at your command, my Lady.”  Chat swept his arm in a dramatic bow.  

“Show Carapace how to combine miraculouses.  He’s never done it before.”

“Me?”  Nino pointed to himself and blinked.  “I can do that too?”

“I said this base was for training purposes, didn’t I?”  Ladybug handed him the dark glasses.  “Well, consider this training.”

“What? I thought I was to transform the glorious and famous Chat Noir.”  Kaalki crossed her arms.

Chat’s eyes widened for a second before he grinned.  “You heard her.  Ready to admit how glorious I am yet?”

“In your dreams, kitty.”  Ladybug laughed before turning and crouching before the kwami.  “Please, Kaalki?  I may not know Carapace that well yet, but I know he has a good heart, and he’s always willing to protect others first.  I think that’s the most glorious thing of all, don’t you?”

Did she really think that?  He found his face warming again, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“She’s right, you know.”  Chat Noir nudged Nino with his elbow.  “You’re always running in to take hits.  You’re almost as bad as me.”

“I’ve actually got a shield, though.”  He patted the shield on his back, and Chat laughed.

“Good point.  I’ll let Ladybug throw you at the akumas next time.”

By then, Ladybug had finally convinced Kaalki to transform him.

“It’s really not hard,” the kwami said.  “All you need to do is speak my name and Wayzz’s, then say unify.  Just like Ladybug did to become Dragonbug.”

Nino had watched her combine the miraculouses before they started constructing the room. It had looked that simple, but he’d still assumed there was a trick to it.

“That’s it?  I don’t have to, I dunno, feel something in my heart?”

Chat laughed before thumping him on the back.  “You’re a funny dude, Cara.  Oh, but there is one thing she forgot to tell you—you’ve got to neigh like a horse while you transform for this one.”

“Chat!”  Ladybug smacked his arm, but he just laughed again.  “No, you don’t.  You will need to bring your hands together, though.  It allows the magic to flow through you better, so the powers mix evenly.  That’s what the Master always said, anyway.”

He nodded.  “Alright.  Wayzz, Kaalki, unify!”

He punched his fists together, and teal light crackled over him.  It tingled in a different way from the first transformation.  His turtle suit always felt warm, like putting on a comfortable blanket.  This was more like walking outside during a heat wave.  A moment of dizziness passed before he could breathe again.

“Does it always feel like that?”

“Oh.  Right.”  Ladybug smiled apologetically.  “I should’ve warned you about the heat.  It should pass in a moment.”

Sure enough, the heat faded like the dizziness had.  He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together.  The gloves of his suit were brown now instead of green; he wished he had a mirror to check out the rest of his costume.  They’d have get one for the bathroom eventually.

“Cool, cool.  Anything else I should know?”  He asked.

She went over how to use Voyage, then directed him to the spot she’d drawn out in chalk.  

Sweat beaded under his mask.  Getting the exact coordinates of a magic portal sounded a lot more complicated than throwing up a shield.  Whoever Pegasus was, he must be a real genius.

But right now they didn’t have Pegasus, and Ladybug seemed to think he could do this.  He didn’t want to disappoint her and Chat Noir.

He fixed the portal’s destination in his mind.

“You sure I can’t make this go to, I don’t know, Gabriel Agreste’s office?”  He asked with a grin.  “Y’know, as a random, nonspecific example.”

Chat Noir’s eyes widened for half a second before he doubled over laughing.  Ladybug looked mortified.

“What do you have against Gabriel Agreste?”  She asked.

“Other than that his designs are bland and unoriginal?”

“Or that he looks like he’s swallowed an onion in every photo?”  Nino added.

“Or his sour cream dollop toupée?”

“Heh, you mean tou-pee.”  

Chat Noir cackled at that, and they hi-fived.

“I’m sorry, bugaboo.  I think I’m going to have to replace you with the turtle.”

Ladybug rubbed her temples.  “I need Rena here.  This is too much idiot boy energy for me to handle.”

“You know you love us.”  Chat grinned.

Nino still couldn’t help wondering what beef Chat actually had with Adrien’s dad, but of course he couldn’t ask.  Just like he couldn’t admit that his own grudge against the candy-cane man came from how he treated Nino’s best bro.

“Alright, stand back.”  He finally shoed them away.  “I gotta get in the zone for this.”

He pictured the sewer—a real sewage plant, not the storm drain their base was connected to.  Then he punched his fist towards the floor.

“Voyage!”

A glowing portal opened up in the stone.  And it reeked.

“Smells like it worked.”  Ladybug pinched her nose.  “I’ll get the hardware set up later.  In the meantime…”

She dragged over a manhole cover that Chat had fetched for them on his way over.  It was wide enough to cover the small portal and stop the fumes from leaking out.

“I think that’s all we can do for now,” she said before holding out her fist.  “Pound it?”

Nino had shared Ladybug and Chat Noir’s post-battle tradition plenty of times before, but for some reason, this one felt as special as his first.  Maybe because it was over something so crazy.  Maybe he was getting sappy, but it felt like the heroes trusted him for more than just watching their backs in battle.

They were more than heroes, and they were more than just dudes.  They were his friends. 

He smiled at them.

“Pound it!”

[intobarbarians]

part thirty-two to this

“Another sandwich? Sorry, man, but if I spent three days in a cave that granted wishes I would have eaten like a fucking king every hour I was there.”

“First of all, you made this entire lunch!” If Kuwabara wants another sandwich, then Yusuke should take it as a compliment. “No one asked you to cook enough to feed a small village.”

Yusuke shoves a serving dish of bok choy coated in a sweet, chili sauce under Kuwabara’s nose. “I reacted proportionately to the circumstances, considering your previous meal plan apparently consisted of eating whatever was in a fucking rusted can.”

Kuwabara took care to avoid the rusty cans specifically, thanks. “Secondly, the cave doesn’t grant wishes out of thin air! It--mm, that’s very good. The little bit of heat from the chili really balances out the peach in the sauce.”

Yusuke’s never done well with praise, probably because he hasn’t received enough of it his entire life. A few kind words about his cooking, however, make him absolutely shine. “You like it? I made the recipe from scratch. Keiko thinks the stand needs more vegetable options since it’s become real popular with students from the high school down the block--hey!”

Kuwabara blots his tears with the sleeve of Kurama’s t-shirt. It’s a tight fit, but Kuwabara didn’t have any clean clothes to wear after his shower. Good thing he was already planning on washing it before giving it back. “Come here and let me hug you.”

“Hey, this hug is a lot better than the last one. You don’t smell like BO anymore.”

Kuwabara puts him in a headlock. Way to ruin the moment. “You think caves have indoor plumbing?”

“Not generally! But a wish granting cave--”

“As I was saying,” before he was so rudely interrupted by delicious, delicious food, “the cave actually steals shit you really want from other dimensions. Every meal you’d eat would be taken from someone else.”

“I would only wish for food rich people eat, so I would never feel bad.”

Excellent work around. “So a bowl of ramen, but like, covered in gold leaf?”

“You know nothing of haute cuisine,” Yusuke says sadly.

Not a fucking thing. “You should lower your expectations. If the exact thing you want isn’t available then it seems like the cave finds you a runner up.” Haute-lite. “You really gotta want it for the wishing part to work. I don’t think that place deals with half-assing anything.”

“You must have really wanted your bed, huh?” Yusuke raises a glass. “RIP, Kuwabara’s mattress.”

Kuwabara clinks his water bottle against Yusuke’s soda in solemn tribute. “It was a good bed.”

“Too bad it didn’t get busted from anything fun.”

He refuses to think of Hiei right now. He refuses.

They both drink in remembrance.

Yusuke tosses a sesame ball in the air before catching it with his mouth. “I gotta see this place for myself.”

Kuwabara perks up. “You could meet the Violet Queen!”

Yusuke rewards Kuwabara with a sesame ball. Oh, he’s been waiting for Kuwabara to mention her first. “What’s she like?”

“She’s kind.” Romantic was Hatori’s word for her. “Great healer, fixed up my arm and Hiei’s leg in no time flat. She’s very curious, and seems to like humans.”

“Likes humans, huh? You think she’ll like me?”

Kuwabara has never doubted that for a moment. “I think she’ll love you.”

“Even though I’m a half-human, half-demon freak?”

Kuwabara puts down the sesame ball. The bitterness in Yusuke’s voice is something he hasn’t heard in a long time. “I thought you were over that.”

“Can I tell you something? Promise me you won’t laugh. I mean, you’re Mr. Biology over there, so I know you won’t, but--I need to hear you say it.”

“I won’t.” Not when whatever Yusuke’s about to say has him looking like that, all raw and frayed inside.

“You know how I’m super rare? Mazoku like me are like...a one in forty billion chance of happening, dude. There’s not a lot of uh, research about what that means for me.”

Yusuke’s one of a kind, spontaneous genetic miracle notwithstanding. “You think she can give you some idea?”

“Mother of demons, right? Even the half-breeds.”

Yusuke looks so miserable he has to have something specific on his mind. “Yusuke, what’s wrong?”

“Kurama set me up with this doctor in Gandara awhile back. Not because something was wrong!” he adds hastily at Kuwabara’s alarm. “We ran some tests so I could have a baseline for what I am now instead of what I used to be. You’d understand the results better than me, but basically? I’m making a hormone that I didn’t before because only demons produce it.”

Kuwabara is fascinated. Genetics is one of the disciplines he’s thinking about pursuing. “What does it do?”

Yusuke’s laugh is a harsh sound. “It’s so fucking useful. It helps me control demon energy and it’s involved in the cardiovascular system somehow? I need it to live.” He leans back in his chair and covers his eyes. “Except--and here’s where I need you not to laugh, okay?--it’s also killing the shit out of my sperm.”

The words take a moment to sink it. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yep.”

“I would have thought it would do...the opposite.” Not that he often thinks about Yusuke’s sperm.

“Nope.” Yusuke’s eyes are suspiciously bright. “I talked to Keiko about it and she said she doesn’t care. She still loves me all the same. She’s surprisingly neutral on the subject of us having kids.”

“You care, though.”

“...yeah. I care. We’re already putting off getting married even though I promised we would when I got back--what? She didn’t tell you?”

He feels more guilty about the kiss with Keiko than he ever has. “No.”

“It wasn’t a secret or anything. Now we’re just waiting for her to graduate.”

Obviously, it wasn’t Yusuke’s idea to wait. “She loves you. You know that, right?”

“I know. I know. It’s just--you guys both think I didn’t think about you at all when I was living in Makai, but I did. I would train and wish you were training with me! I wanted to hear Keiko’s voice every single day, telling me to be careful, telling me about her classes, telling me that she--she loved me. That she hadn’t given up on me.”

“We thought about you, too.” All the time.

“I’m not a total dick, okay? You’re my best friend and she’s the girl I love. I’m not going to push her into marrying me if she doesn’t want to, but I need her to understand that I wasn’t just saying those things before I left. I meant it. I want that and I want the other things, too.”

“Like kids.”

“At least three of them! I don’t even know why I fixated on that number, but I’ll settle for knowing I’ll have one. So, yeah, I want to talk to the spider lady.”

Was there anything in the vision of his daughter that promised Yusuke’s happy future, as well? “Okay. You’ll meet her.”

“Okay,” Yusuke echoes. “I guess we have to deal with the world’s ugliest shovel first.”

It won’t be much longer.

[keepingupwithfundies]

BuB 916: Beauty and the Business

Gil does rehab after his surgery. Josie and Kelton start new business ventures. Jackson and Addallee celebrate their shared birthday. 

-T 

  After Gil's surgery, he has been doing rehab to try to improve his shoulder. Gil uses a resistance band to do his rehab. Jeb sees him doing it and wants to join in, but finds the resistance band quite tough to use. Jud heads over, and Kelly jokes that Jud could take him in a push up contest, and Jeb jokes that that's how he could in this mess, and the kids all agree that his one-handed pushup days should be behind him, but he will likely try it again. Gil says they are a few months away, but not yet.

At Josie's, she says she loved doing hair and liked her salon days, but thinks updos and bridal hair are really her passions. Along with her friend, she decided to start a special events bridal business. A bride has come in for a trial run, and Josie is excited to work with her. Josie says a trial run is important, and she and the bride chat about wedding planning. Carlin says Josie has a lot of wedding day preparation experience and this is a great fit for them. Kelton says he is so proud of Josie in her new venture. Josie finishes up on the bride, who likes her look. Josie is excited for the future.

At the main house, Katie is facetiming Travis to talk about plans for her upcoming trip to New Jersey. Katie asks Travis if he thinks her parents should come along to meet his parents. Kelly says what Katie doesn't know is that Travis will be surprising Katie with a courtposial while they're there. Travis agrees to have her parents come, and Katie says she is so excited to see Travis.

Kelton has been in plumbing since he was 12, working with his uncle to grow his company. Kelton got his license at 18, got a degree in finance and he has always wanted to start his own small business. Bobby is working along side him. Bobby is a newer plumber but does all the admin for the business. Bobby is trying to develop his skills to be as handy as his brothers-in-law. Kelton asks about the new baby, and Bobby says he is excited to see Kade be a big brother, but not ready to lose sleep. Kelton says it's funny that they're on 6 month alternating cycles of sleep deprivation: first Bobby with Kade, then Kelton with Willow, and now Bobby again. Kelton jokes if it ever lines up, the business will suffer. Kelton and Bobby install a beautiful clawfoot tub, and they are both excited to see how big they can grow their business.

It is Jackson and Addallee's birthday, and Jackson wanted to go skydiving. The family is going indoor skydiving, which Addee says she wouldn't have picked. After watching the video, she isn't sure she wants to do it. Everyone signs waivers, gets suited up, and makes their way toward the big fan. Jackson is excited, and Addee is nervous. Jackson goes first, and he has a blast. Lawson, Warden and Ellie are next. Judson and Jeb love it. Jeb has a big grin on the whole time. Gil goes, and jokes that they turn the fan up for him. Addee is terrified, and doesn't want to do it, but it is her turn and she does it. The family finishes up, and everyone is talking about how fun it was. 

After skydiving, the family heads to get barbeque restaurant. At dinner, they talk about Jackson's plans to join the military. He wants to join the Marine Corps, but first he is going to the ALERT academy. ALERT stands for Air Land Emergency Rescue Team, which Jackson says is similar to a "boot camp." This is an IBLP program which we've seen several Duggar guys attend. It takes time from college, though, so Jackson will decide whether or not to finish college after ALERT. He does eventually plan to join the Marines, which Gil and Kelly are very proud of. Kelly says it is hard for a mom. Nathan says he thinks Jackson will excel. Kelly and Gil ask Addee next about her goals. She is fourteen now, and she is joyful, quiet, and they say they haven't seen her get mad or in trouble. They do their birthday praises. Lawson talks about her servant's heart, empathy, and says people notice. Gil says she doesn't complain and he wants her to stay a long time. Jackson is next, and Kelly says Jackson is smart, and he loved taking things apart to learn about them. Gil says it can be easy to get lost in the shuffle but they have established who they are and they really blessed their parents. Out of 19 kids, Kelly says, there are only 3 left who aren't in their teens. Gil says it is important to make special memories like birthday parties that will last a lifetime.