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parsnips-and-meth · 11 months

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Like a Rainbow in the Dark - Ch. 2 (Extract)

... When Eddie woke, he was certain he was dying.

He’d been dreaming of a red sky, of air like ash, of a biting cold. Could smell blood. His own blood. His guts were being torn to shreds, swallowed by all those sharp little mouths; he was dissolving into the gruesome, sticky soil of the Upside Down.

Another stain on the eldritch map.

And then he was back in his living room. Back to early evening darkness, warmed by a singular lamp. Steve was there, next to him, pushing on his shoulders, why, so close, why –

His guts were still, still being torn to shreds. The bats chewing up his organs, the pain astronomical, tearing through him over and over and over again. He couldn’t breathe. Could hardly see. And Steve was pushing still, pushing him upright, and Eddie felt something crawl up this throat –

Steve held onto him as he vomited, using his free hand to tuck loose strands of hair behind his ears. There was a bucket, one that hadn’t been there before. And he was sobbing. Could not remember ever sobbing quite like this, except maybe when he was a child.

“Breathe, Eddie.” Steve was so close Eddie could feel his breath on his neck. “You need to breathe.”

And Eddie tried, he really did. But then the pain in his stomach and his back and his everywhere was skyrocketing and he was lurching further into the bucket, spitting up nothing but water and bile.

“Jesus, dude. Are you sure you don’t need a hospital?”

“No hospital.” It came out garbled. Eddie spat into the bucket, lifted his head. “’S fine. Normal.”

“Fuck off,” Steve said, but continued his ministrations. Stroking back Eddie’s hair, rubbing his arms, breathing a deep and controlled example. Eddie stayed where he was, whimpering and trying hard not to retch as he rode out the cramps, sometimes successful, sometimes not.

Once he was finished, Steve handed him some water. It spilt immediately over his lap. He wrapped his hands around Eddie’s trembling ones, guiding the glass to his mouth. “Slowly,” he instructed, though Eddie didn’t need to be told. He felt too sick to take more than a few sips at a time.

Steve emptied the bucket and brought it back rinsed out, putting it down on the floor next to the couch. Whilst the pain was less intense than when Eddie had woken up – his guts were being torn to shreds, swallowed by all those sharp little mouths – he was still struggling to get a grip on it. He got onto his knees and bent over them, burying his head in the blankets, trying to breathe through it, failing, choking instead on half-formed sobs, whimpers, and all other kinds of mortifying sounds. Steve’s hand on his back only made him cry harder, broke him down that little bit more, had him crumbling into millions of tiny useless pieces.

“What can I do?” Steve sounded lost. Perhaps a little scared. Eddie just shook his head, continued to rock with his head on his knees. He heard Steve walk away, thought, he’s left, finally, thought, come back, please, and then Steve was there again, sitting on the sofa in front of Eddie, putting his hands on his shoulders, hushing, soothing.

He sat him up, pressing a fresh hot water bottle into Eddie’s belly and then pulling him onto his lap, laying him down. Eddie clutched at the bottle, wrapped his arms around himself, only half registering what was happening as Steve moved a pillow underneath his head, ran a hand along his spine. It was warm. Eddie’s breath hitched as it reached the small of his back, and so Steve let it rest there, moving his thumb back and forth, applying the lightest of pressures. The other hand stroked Eddie’s hair in a slow rhythm, and every now and then it wiped the tears and snot from his face with a soft hanky. Duck-egg blue. And behind his head, Steve Harrington breathed evenly, deliberately, until Eddie was doing the same.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice thick and a little hoarse, once the aching had eased enough for him to think again. “I’m really sorry.”

“Shut up, Munson. You’re delirious.”

“No.” He tilted his head up to meet Steve’s eyes – took a moment to think, my head is in his fucking lap – “This is too much. You shouldn’t have to, to… You shouldn’t have come. Why did you come?”

Steve was staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Eddie hiccupped, shaking harder. “Why did you come? Why are you still here?”

"Why did you call?” Steve shot back. “If you didn’t want me here, why did you?”

“I don’t know!” Eddie was close to sobbing. Again. “I don’t know. It was – I was – It hurt! I wanted someone here. I just wanted someone… here.”

“I’m here, Eddie.” Steve brought out the handkerchief again, ran it so gently underneath his eyes. There were navy initials embroidered in the corner – SH. Steve Harrington.

Who are you, Steve Harrington?

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said again, quieter this time. “You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“What if I told you,” Steve said, the corners of his lips quirking upwards, “that I wanted to?”

“I’d say you’re full of shit.” Eddie laughed, sharp, sudden, then brought a hand up to cover his mouth. He could feel the tips of his ears turning red. “Sorry.”

Steve was thinking, a crinkle between his brows. From where Eddie was laying, looking up, Steve’s face simultaneously a little shadowed and yellow blazing in the lamp light, he looked like a hazy photograph. Warm, soft, the world on pause. He was… Well. Eddie didn’t dare finish the thought.

“I know that it’s… easy to think the worst of me,” Steve started, glancing away from Eddie and looking somewhere far away. “I get it. I do. And, I can’t say that I understand everything. I don’t know much about… it, either.” Eddie didn’t need to ask what ‘it’ was. “But I want to. Because, well, you’re my friend. And I care about you. So, I want to understand, better. And know about it. So that I can… know about you.”

Eddie stared up at Steve, stunned. He had known Steve was good, was especially good, but Eddie… Eddie had always been the limitation. He’d assumed Steve was here out of duty; saw Eddie as another person to protect, regardless, in spite of. Because Steve was a hero – this was what he did. And once he was done being Eddie’s hero for the evening, he’d walk out the door and never speak to him again, cut him out, come to terms with his disgust. Maybe tell Robin, or Dustin, or everybody who Eddie really was, what he was, what lay underneath it all.

But, no. Steve wanted… Steve wanted to –

“… Know about me?” He curled his knees up tighter, dug his nails into his sides. “Even though… even though –”

“Yes.” Steve pulled at Eddie’s hands, loosened his fingers, held onto his palms. “Yes. That’s why you’re worried, right? You think… I see you different. Like you less.”

“You don’t?” Eddie hated the way he sounded. Pitchy. Bewildered.

“No,” Steve said. “I don’t.”

“Fuck you, Harrington,” he choked out, and then was crying, for the millionth time. “I was getting all worked up.”

He laughed. “I could see that.”

“You’re strange,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “You’re so strange.”

Steve smiled, going back to running his hands through Eddie’s hair, wiping his tears, circling his back. Tending to him so carefully. “Yeah,” he murmured, so low Eddie nearly missed it, “I guess I am.”

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #fanfic #whump fic #whump #hurt/comfort #trans eddie munson #sickfic #vomiting #emeto #caretaking #ao3 #ao3 writer

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fantomette22 · 1 year

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I spotted that you featured future League Master on your drawing with Old Hunters and I honestly like the idea that Valtr wasn't the founder of the League as a concept! He did see the Impurity rune first but maybe he wasn't as quick to adapt as to instantly organize his own covenant in Yharnam. Sooo can we know more about your version of the League Master v.1.0? 👉👈

Hello !

Ahah i figure you will want me to talk about the original master of the League ! (that I draw here)

Unfortunately I don't hav many ideas yet :( (when I got some, remind me to do some update I only have a few new thoughts on Archi, Izzy, Henryk and eventually Paarl)

I wanted to put some OCs on the drawing originally but I didn't have the place so I decided to put them instead XD (I cannot even choose a gender help. But I guess more girls would be nice)

All I can say is that they were an old hunter, probably an outsider and euh... there's was an accident... that only left them one eye.

A beast was trying to kill them, it already made them loose an eye. It was clawing and bitting them. Their only choice left was to catch a molotov and crushed it in the beast face. But it did ended up on their own head as well...

They were transported urgently to the Grand Cathedral to be heal. Maria mainly, but also Gehrman and others hunters stay by their side during the hurtful process.

So yes I think it make sense that the league (like other hunters groups) wasn't founded by Valtr. So this hunter ended up founding the league (before or after Valtr come into the picture idk yet).

They're one of the persons who first discover Valtr (when he was injured and eating a beast...) and they welcome him ? At least plaid to the healing church so they could get Valtr out of detention /quarantine and help him for many things. His new life in Yharnam, becoming a hunter etc.

They got the famous bucket at some point.

Oh and the league staff was theirs originally yeah.

And I guess they died because of vermins or smt 😔

#my asks #bloodborne headcanons #you might have influence me on that too I think you talk about it before no ?#i made a few others lil bb doodles too hehe but absolutely not about this subject

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bbrandy2002 · 3 years

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Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 17

This is my @wackydrabbles post for week 87. The prompt is bolded. "No offense, but I'm not interested."

Book: TRR

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Warnings: Drake and some language.

*I was in a silly mood and this turned into a dumpster fire lol and it feels very rushed but I was trying to meet the word count. There may be a little bit of plot in this.

Word count: 1999

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Liam sat on the floor with his back pressed against the mattress; one leg bent upright with the other extended crookedly out in front of him. Half of a bottle of Don Julio dangled loosely from a hand settled on his knee while two shiny gold rings encircled the pinky tip of his other.

In a fit of anger late last night, he searched for and consumed the first bottle of alcohol he came across in the liquor cabinet. He had no intentions of getting hammered or even a little drunk; Liam just needed something to take the edge off the hurt. Not that he for one second believed a word Riley told him before she walked out and boarded a red-eye commercial flight back to the States.

As Liam pondered her abrupt departure in the early hours of the morning, one thing was for sure: He'd never been in love before, but what he felt for Riley was real -- and reciprocated -- that, "no," she spewed from her mouth when asked if she loved him was a lie.

But why? That was the question he just couldn't figure out.

Having racked his brain for hours and with the sun finally coloring in the darkness of his chambers, Liam set aside his drink and lifted himself off the ground. Every thought that consumed him for the last several hours was riddled with putting the pieces together of why she actually left and why she felt she couldn't tell him the truth. Nothing made sense, yet ruminating alone in his room until he figured it out wasn't going to solve anything; the only way to get to the bottom of this was to retrace Riley's steps from the time she left the ball to when he made his way up to join her a little later.

Stumbling to the bathroom -- mostly from exhaustion and perhaps a little drunker than he realized -- Liam stripped off the tuxedo he wore the prior evening and took a quick shower before heading down to the security office.

-----------

Riley's heavily drooping eyelids popped wide open when the plane shook from another vigorous tremor of turbulence. Gripping the armrests on both sides of her seat, she hesitated to peek out the window but was relieved when she saw the billowy waters of the Pacific had transformed into small, mosaic blocks of land covered by a shadow of the nearly setting sun.

When the aircraft settled again, Riley reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone to check the time, grateful to be landing soon. She planned to go straight home, sink into her bed, and sleep the rest of her life away. Maybe wake up every once in a while to sob again before going back to sleep. Whatever Riley decided to do, she hated Madeleine, she hated Tyler, and she hated telling Liam she didn't love him; the more Riley thought about the stunned look on his face when she said it, the more nauseous her stomach felt.

And the nausea was getting worse.

Riley caught the eye of a nearby stewardess and waved her over; she needed ginger ale, and she needed it fast.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"I … I need, ginger ale, please." She asked through ragged breaths.

"Let me check and see if we have more." Riley nodded appreciatively.

"Hey. Don't I know you from somewhere?" A relatively large guy in the center seat, whose sweaty arm flab had been lodged in Riley's shoulder since takeoff, asked. Oh shit! Riley cupped a tight hand over her mouth and shook her head vigorously; the last thing she wanted was to be recognized.

Or vomit.

While the stewardess searched the service cart for the requested drink, the gentleman's eyes enlarged. "Wait a minute. Yeah! You're that little gal who married some king, with ..." he snapped his fingers before adding in his thick Texan drawl, "the monkey and hookers and shit. Wow, my fiance wants to have a wedding just like yours." He held his hand out to her. "The names Beaver Calhoun, mayor of Slippery Nip, Texas. I guess you could say we're both royals, huh?"

Riley lowered her hand slightly; she was past the point of ginger ale helping, and this guy was blocking her way out. "Beaver, I need you to move."

He stroked his chin in thought. "Well, I don't know, Queenie. I'm pretty content with my life there in Slippery Nip, Not really lookin' to uproot."

"No!' Riley's strained voice responded forcefully, "move out of the way--" She tried to fight it, but her head flung forward and everything came out with her last word.

Beaver looked down at his shirt and quirked a brow. "That's gonna leave a stain."

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

On the second floor of a run-down Motel 6, just off the beaten path in Las Vegas, Drake tossed in the last of his clothes and airline tickets in a duffle bag and zipped it. Stepping over to the window, he pulled aside the tattered curtains to check if the airport's shuttle van had arrived yet. Disappointed, he grumbled to himself, "Where the hell are you? I'm ready to get the fuck out of here."

The past week had been intense -- well, frankly, the entire month had been nothing short of shit balls. Five weeks ago, Drake landed in Las Vegas for Liam's bachelor party and won big money at the casino, only to have it all pissed away on some old, decrepit hooker who stole his wallet, cell phone, dick health, and what little joy he had in the world. Liam left with a sexy ass wife, and all Drake got was the false claim of fathering triplets and his scowling face on the front cover of the National Enquirer with Dr. Ethan Ramsey detailing the entire sordid journey from pre-surgical rooster rot to the aftercare.

He made a quick $500 for the story, in which he badly needed the money, considering he couldn't leave Vegas until the paternity test results came back. It was enough for his lodging, a couple cans of Beenie-Weenies and a few boxes of pepperoni Hot Pockets; his stomach felt like oil sludge at this point. But as a joke, Leo had sent a box of Ding-Dongs, so it wasn't all bad.

The rotary phone in his room rang out, and he answered the call from the front desk, which let him know transportation had arrived. Drake grabbed his bag, flicked a cockroach off of it, and exited his room into the enclosed hallway.

After stepping onto the elevator and hitting the down button, another person strolled on in a black leather mini-skirt, white see-through halter top, and a pair of fishnet stockings that he'd recognize anywhere.

"You!" He growled at the chain-smoking hooker, backing her up into the corner. "Do you have any fucking idea what you did to me? And I WANT my wallet and cell phone back, now!" He hovered menacingly over the much smaller woman.

"No offense, but I'm not interested in giving them back to you," Pinquee Kittee sneered before reaching into her bra for mace and spraying him directly in the eyes. The rapid burn gave way to her next act of defense when a screaming, blinded Drake was doubled over by a swift karate kick to his newly transplanted organ. "Hiiiiyah!"

Drake cupped himself in anguish, fell to the floor, and slumped over as the elevator doors opened. Pinquee Kittee grabbed his duffle bag and peeked down the hallway to make sure no one was around before making her getaway.

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

Just outside of the palace's security office, Liam knocked on the door several times without an answer. It was rare that the King would personally pay a visit. Usually, he would call Bastien and have the head guard look into any issues. With him gone, this just felt like something Liam needed to do in person.

After several more knocks, Liam reached for the door handle and slowly opened it to let himself inside. The lights were off, with only a few CCTV screens displaying various images of places within and surrounding the palace. Finding the light switch on the wall beside the door, Liam flipped them on, and his mouth fell agape at what he saw.

"What the hell happened in here?" He shouted as his hands shot to his hips, glaring around the room.

On the floor was a maze of beer cans, whiskey bottles, remnants of silly string, a five-gallon bucket of butter next to a slip-n-slide, a voodoo doll with Liam's face on it, and half-a-dozen guards passed out.

A furious Liam made his way through, kicking the feet of guardsmen as he stepped along. "Get up! All of you!"

One-by-one, they slowly roused until they realized it was the King in their presence, then they jumped to their feet at attention.

"Would someone like to explain what the actual fuck happened in here?" Liam wasn't one to swear in front of his staff, but there was no way he could hold back after walking in on this scene. His glowering eyes shifted with expectancy from one man to the next, waiting for an answer, until someone finally called out, "We threw Rogers a going away party for his last night on the job, Your Majesty."

"And you thought having a wild party while you were ON DUTY to protect 400 members of the nobility for a major event was the time to do that?

The guard shook his head. "Not at all, Sir. I admit we weren't as attentive as we should have been last night ..." he pointed behind Liam, "but Prince Leo came by and suggested we kick it up a notch."

Liam turned around and caught Leo slithering along the edge of the wall toward the door. "Leo!"

The Prince stopped dead in his tracks, then flickered his eyes and jolted his body as if he were just waking up. Leo looked at Liam, acting surprised to see him. "Liam? Is that you? H-How did I get in here?"

Liam rolled his eyes. "Knock it off, Leo."

"What?” Leo shrugged innocently. “You know what I think happened. I must have been sleepwalking again. You know how I get when I watch The Duchess before bed." He cocked his head introspectively at his brother. “And you do look like the Duke from that movie, you handsome devil you?” He grinned impishly.

Liam stared blankly at his older brother for a few seconds, then turned around to face the others gathered around. "Who's in charge here?"

When one of the men raised a hand, the King stepped up to him and explained, "Alright, I need you to pull up security footage from last night. I want to review everything from the moment I stepped outside the ballroom to meet the Queen around 9:30, and where she went after I went back into the ballroom."

If this were any other day, Liam would have fired every one of them on the spot and sent Leo to Antarctica, but he only had one concern: Finding out what happened to Riley.

As the guard typed in his computer to pull up footage from last night, Leo stepped up to Liam, who was hovering over the guard's shoulder with anticipation. "What's going on?"

Never taking his eyes off the screen, he responded. "Riley went back to Las Vegas last night."

"Wh-Why? What happened?"

Liam let out a breath. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

Leo remained silent before giving his little brother's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and watching with him.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as different camera footages were switched to follow Riley walking from the main staircase, through several passages, and finally ending with the corridor outside of his quarters.

"Stop!" Liam leaned in closer as the guard paused the video; his entire body tensed up at what he saw.

"Is that ..." Leo scrunched up his face in disgust.

"Madeleine."

___________

Tags: @burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthingss @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @thecordoniandiaries @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty @monsoonbloom12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisour @kat-tia801 @debmcg1106 @lifeaskim @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueenn

Anything with Drake:@tinkie1973

FRI Series Tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton @cordonianprincess @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @drrookie @sfb123 @secretaryunpaid @masterofbluff

#fools rush in #liam x mc #liam x riley #the royal romance #prince liam #king liam #bbrandy2002 #wackydrabbles

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aknosde · 3 years

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Amicus Certus in re Incerta Cernitur

The first installment of my Reyna Swap AU, Alea Iacta Est // Percy Jackson & Reyna Avilla Ramírez Arellano // Hurt - Comfort // roughly two or three days post-Tartarus // tw vomiting & tw implied/referenced past child sexual assault // light swearing // 3.4k

(hey, @specific-dreamer, i started writing it :))

ao3

—————

Reyna exits her bed smoothly, flicking on the lamp as she goes. At night, when her cabin feels too dark and too small, the light is one of her only wards against her stiff spine and the shake of her shoulders. She ghosts her hands through her closet, searching for something thick and substantial, like the light and the reassuring click of the lock as she opens her door.

The floor of the quarter deck is cold under her bare feet, but the polished wood is soothing in its smoothness. She tugs on her sweatshirt against the cool temperature that accompanies flying far above the warm Mediterranean. Someone must have screwed with the thermostat last night–tonight–otherwise it would be compensating for the chill in the air.

It doesn’t affect the rest of the ship. The wood doesn’t contract or expand under the temperature, the boat doesn’t creak. It’s immune to the cold air and warm water in that way. She can’t quite decide if the silence that accompanies it is comforting or not as she descends to the main deck.

All of the lights are on down here, the rooms devoid of people. She knows that the lights of the lower deck will be off, because Leo sleeps down in the engine room, but the main deck is no man's land at this time of night. Someone has swept the floors, and with the lights on and undisturbed by organic shadow, this level seems more like a model of a ship than somewhere where people live. When the feeling turns from interesting to uncanny she finishes her route to the galley.

Though the galley is less of a galley, straight and narrow, than an actual kitchen you would find in a home. It’s large, even though Leo claims it’s unnecessary given his plate technology, and rather comfortable. A counter winds around the room, a large refrigerator with people’s personal food labeled, an oven and stove, and lastly, the sink: her destination.

She’s almost to the kitchen island before she sees Percy, sitting on the counter, looking for all the world as if he is a fixture of the kitchen itself. She doesn’t freeze when she sees him–she’s better than that–but she does let herself take stock of him, one leg hanging off the counter and his other knee propped under his chin, holding his head up.

His eyes look irritated, bags underneath that more closely resemble bruises, and a few pieces of hair are falling into his eyes, but he doesn’t do more than glance her way as she crosses to the sink next to him, so she leaves him be. Percy’s always been… observant. She could tell by the way he looked at her as she dropped from the Argo’s rope ladder. But since Tartarus he’s gotten quieter. Before, it used to just be a thing about him, not speaking unless he had something to say. Now it’s more obvious, like something or someone is keeping him.

She fills her glass of water and leans against the island, staring at the fridge.

She and Jason had had their own kitchen, as praetors. It was in the Principa, tucked out of the way, cold blue-greys and aggressively modern appliances. It reminded her of her childhood kitchen in that way. Cleanly impersonal–it more closely resembled an office break room. She and Jason barely used it, but still, they tucked their s’more supplies into a corner cupboard, and occasionally they would find each other there, making tea during late nights and early mornings.

The Argo kitchen is nicer, filled with warm colors and the smell of cinnamon. Percy cooks in here, she knows, though she has never seen him at it. When she had woken up that first morning after the disaster in New Rome there had been conchas on the counter. Leo, for all his initial grumbling, took to cooking in here while Percy and Annabeth were gone. His own little way of grieving, she thinks, taking a sip of water.

Percy lurches as if the ship has, uncharacteristically uncoordinated in his urgency. She straightens immediately as he twists off the counter and onto his feet. His forearms come down hard on the ledge of the counter, bracketing himself, and then he retches into the sink.

Strings of hair hang in his face as he does, she can now see that they are separated by sweat, and before she knows what she’s doing she’s across the aisle and holding his hair back and gives him the privacy of looking away, tucking away loose strands of hair. It’s deceptively soft, even with charred and patchy places here and there, and curlier than Leo’s. Memories of Hylla rage strong as she twists it around her finger, leaving no chance of it falling in the way again, the grey streak resembling a swirl.

Reyna can practically feel Hylla’s hands in her hair, her body sprawled against the wall of their cabin, head in a bucket. Hylla’s body, pressed against one side of her back, not overbearing, just a reminder that she was there now. On good nights they would end up in their bed before Reyna fell asleep, talking until Reyna’s brain could come back home. Hylla would twist Reyna’s hair into braids more beautiful and pure than Reyna could ever imagine being, and Reyna would complain about the smell of the bucket until Hylla got up to throw the contents overboard.

“Better your lunch than yourself,” Hylla sometimes joked upon her return, in that way people do when they are living through horrible things, doing horrible things, having horrible things thrust upon them. The memory burns now that Reyna isn’t there. She can’t find the humor in the joke now, only the threat of the first mate holding Reyna by the hair and threatening to make her walk the plank if she didn’t stop crying.

She couldn’t stop, but he didn’t seem to understand that, he just held her wrists until Hylla was there, in his cabin, talking with her voice smooth in a way it had never been before the Queen Anne’s Revenge. She talked until Reyna was allowed to leave, until the door shut with her still inside.

That was the night Blackbeard and his crew decided Reyna wasn’t worth it, a night she would forever be thankful for. Reyna couldn’t recover as fast as Hylla, she couldn’t put up with as much, she was wrecked after each encounter, and that night she would be thankful for it, and the day after, and the next, until she and Hylla were running the ship and she never had to think about it again.

Percy pants against the sink, signaling that he is done, and she takes a step back, suddenly uncomfortable and anxious for something to do.

She decides on giving him her glass of water–gods know he needs it more than she does–and watches him down the whole thing greedily. An air of clarity seems to blow through him, clearing his eyes and fixing his posture. Maybe that is the magic of a child of Poseidon. Water: an instant cure to all ailments.

“Thank you,” he says with a gasp as he finishes drinking. He wipes some vomit off a corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, frowning before he rinses it off in the sink. Reyna nods serenely in response, no judgement.

It’s a wrestle with herself, to decide if she wants to ask what has him puking his guts out. The fine line she always walks is taunting her, telling her not to alienate people, telling her that knowledge is power. The voice sounds suspiciously like Michelle, which only makes her prickle further. It’s a moot point, regardless. She can remember sitting with Thalia, legs swinging over the edge of a bridge, “I loved him to pieces, Reyna, but that asshole wouldn’t tell me he was hurt unless I pinned him down and threatened to zap his eyebrows off.” She’s going to ask.

“Are you okay?” They are hollow words, because none of them are, and she knows his answer.

“I’m fine,” And then a second later he is over the sink again, all of the water coming right back up.

She takes a place behind him, Hylla’s place, holding his hair back and drawing on his back with her other hand. She can feel his muscles clench each time more of his stomach empties, takes in his breathy swears, traces the letters on the back of his New Rome hoodie. She thinks it might have been hers at one point. It swallows him.

He pulls back, eventually, putting space between them. She lets him have it, but sticks to her spot, crossing her arms.

“Want to try that again?”

He breathes raggedly, head hung. “I can’t–” he lifts a hand to gesture to himself vaguely, but rests it swiftly, looking like he regrets the action. “I haven’t been able to keep food down. Since we got back. It’s too rich. Too much. I was stupid, forgetting how that worked,” he explains, reading the pull of her brow. “Forgot how it felt, too,” he adds, quietly.

She flicks the sink on, letting his remnants wash down the drain, and looks at him thoughtfully. He’s too tired to notice, or maybe to care. His knuckles white out on the edge of the counter, pulsing no doubt in tandem with his stomach. One of his legs begins to quake and she nudges it with her knee. He shifts.

“Is there a reason you’re camped out in here and not the bathroom?”

His breathing, slow and steady, a trained pattern, is interrupted by a faint chuckle. “Thought I wouldn’t run into no one. It’s not working out, clearly.”

He sits back on the counter gently, already clutching his stomach again. “I’ll get over it soon. Just a couple more days. I just–need to make sure I don’t tear my stomach lining.” His words come spaced out and slow, working between his breaths.

“Annabeth?” she asks, unable to mask concern, or maybe uninterested in doing so.

“Got over it,” he answers swiftly. It almost sounds like he is going to say more, but he doesn’t, and she lets it drop in favor of watching him. When he gulps she’s already by his side.

This time bile is the only thing that comes up. He hacks, searching for more, but all that's left is acid. She’s supporting almost his entire weight with one arm. A twitch of worry makes her muscles tense, alien to any type of worry she experienced while he and Annabeth were in the pits of hell. This is immediate, intimate, not abstract. Like seeing Jason’s face dripping gold.

Percy’s whole body shudders, head so deep in the sink she thinks he might be able to touch the sick and the porcelain with his nose if he were to go any further, but the spell seems to have stopped. His arms shake against the counter, and before he can follow through with getting his own vomit plastered across his face she uses her hold on his hair to gently tilt his head towards her.

His eyes are almost completely unfocused, squinting against the kitchen lighting behind her. His water lines have released their tears, finally surmounting the amount of control he had been maintaining. He looks utterly wrecked, and not in the deranged and semi-wild way he had been fresh out of the Doors of Death.

She switches her arm from propping him up to wrapping it around him, keeping him from falling back against the sink and grunting between his weight and his condition. His limbs are loose with relief, now. Almost limp. She orients him until he’s pressed against her hip, utterly malleable under her hands. An odd sense of warmth seems to travel up her arms and into her heart as he slots against her. From what she’s seen, from what she knows, Percy is not one to be controlled. He rebels against it, particularly resistant to anyone who is not a peer, or better yet, a friend. Yet here he is, letting her move his body for him.

It’s something she could never imagine herself doing; willingly handing herself over like this. But with the warmth is a new desire, a spark of hope that one day she will grow with people until she can let them take care of her like this.

“Let’s get you to the med bay,” she says.

“No.” It comes quiet and breathy, and then again with urgency, “No. Annabeth likes to take inventory there when she can’t sleep. Not the med bay.”

Avoiding the med bay on account of Annabeth is a stupid decision, but she reminds herself that Percy cares more about other people than he does himself. He doesn’t want Annabeth to be worried, Reyna thinks, to keep his problems to himself, and though that is not always the best plan, it’s not the worst. Reyna recognizes the necessity of keeping your shit to yourself. Percy might be one of the only people she knows that understands that and deserves it, so she just sighs.

“Okay.” She hooks her other arm under his, making sure he’s steady, and lowers him to the floor. “We’ll just set up camp here.”

He presses the back of his head against the cabinets, hands groping the cool stone floor, and then lets himself tip fully onto it. No complaints. Apparently he likes the change in location. She grabs a dish towel, folding it up and sliding it under his head, and a bowl, if he needs to give up his internal organs while she’s gone and can’t quite make it to the sink. With a shove of his shoulder he turns on his side, loosely grabbing his stomach and making her feel safe in the fact that he can’t choke on his own vomit.

She feels funny when she stands again, brushing her hands against her pant legs. She’s never taken care of someone like this before, never had to. She and Jason were there for each other during their fair share of unfortunate situations, but she never had to watch him like this; curled up on the ground, shaking, weak. She wonders if he was ever caught like this, in the bathroom across the hall. If he had ever wanted to ask her for help.

Annabeth isn’t in the med bay when Reyna goes to scrounge up some anti-nausea medication, and she isn’t coming down the stairs when Reyna makes her way back to the kitchen. Percy’s in the same spot, though. She supposes that counts for something as she sits next to his head, reading the directions on the back of the box.

It’s generic, a syrupy red that reminds her of fake blood in old horror movies. Percy coughs as it goes down, making a face and muttering something about cherry flavoring and scented markers.

When she’s sure he’s not going to up chuck the medicine, which would be a type of irony she is not ready for, she goes searching for something he can eat. The stores on the Argo II are significantly better than that of the Queen Anne’s Revenge, and greatly aided by the presence of a fridge, but she ends up with a packet of pedialyte powder she remembers seeing Percy use during their first week on the Argo. It’s orange, which she can respect as it’s the best artificial flavor.

Percy groans while she’s stirring it, and before she knows it she’s sitting by his side, letting him press his face into her leg. Her body seems to know what to do, even if she doesn’t, and she’s grateful for it.

“Would you rather rehydrate or take more medication?”

He groans again, nose brushing her thigh, and says, “Both.”

“Disregard the instructions?”

He hums against her leg, whispering her resolve into the ground, because she doesn’t argue. It doesn’t hurt that she couldn’t decide either, or that she has always been good at knowing when to break the rules.

“Whatever repercussions there are to this, it’s your fault,” she says instead, already measuring another dose.

He downs it like a shot and with a grimace, even though he is still laying on the floor. It manages to wring a snort out of her, as does the way he remarks that the straw she put in the pedialyte looks like a worm: “Which I’ll allow only because you chose blue; the best color.”

He fumbles in and out of consciousness, mind half addled, and she thinks she’s found a cheat code to becoming his friend. With his sharp eyes half closed and his height stolen by his horizontal position on the floor, too tired to keep his body wired and slurping through a straw because the energy to sit up seems like a far flung concept, he’s easy to see and even easier to like.

“You made the good shit,” he half slurs as he takes another sip.

“Yeah?”

“Grew up on this stuff,” he says by way of explanation. “It was free at my first school, low income and what not. Wanted to make sure we had enough calories to suffer through the school day. Picked it up at food banks, too.”

She hums, pretending he hasn’t just revealed something that she doubts he’s told anyone else. “Kept it around for the taste?”

“Malnourished after Lupa, just a bit,” he says arching his neck in discomfort before taking another sip. “I made sure to pick some up while we were still in the states. ‘Beth knows I like it though. I think she already bought some.”

“Yeah.” Reyna can vaguely remember something along those lines, sitting with Annabeth and going over supply lists for the ship. She’d been rambling and scatterbrained, which Reyna now knew was her default state.

He switches subjects after that, nothing sticking for long. It’s an interesting contrast to the Percy that she’s met. She wonders if he was like ths as a kid, or maybe it was longer than that. Maybe it was until they were swapped, maybe it was until Tartarus and she just never got the chance to see.

“You’re talkative when half your guts are down the drain,” she tells him, after listening to him ramble about the Knicks for a couple minutes.

“Blame my state.”

“I am, dumbass.”

“So rude,” he says in Spanish, sounding like her neighbors in Puerto Rico, getting together under the shade during the heat of the day, complaining about their daughters. “What’re you doing here anyway,” he asks, “Why aren’t you nice and cozy in your bed.”

“Obviously sitting on the floor with you is superior.”

He coughs out a laugh, there. Weak, but she can feel his amusement from the crinkle of his eyes before he sobers. “Really, why?”

“Nightmare.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Want to talk about Tartarus?” she snaps, because no, she does not want to talk about her historical issues with boats, or how she’s thinking of Jason, out there escorting a forty foot statue in an attempt to stop yet another war.

“Sorry,” Percy whispers, pulling his head back a bit.

“No, I’m sorry.” She’s supposed to be better than this. She’s supposed to be a leader, which does not include letting her frustrations out on others, no matter the time of day–or night. “That was unprofessional of me.”

He snorts. “We’re lying on the kitchen floor and I’m wearing Black panther pajama pants. Trust me, you don’t have to be professional here… And I’m sorry–for asking.”

“It’s alright,” she ends up saying, mostly thinking that he’s right. She’s about to tell him so when she notices that his eyes have slipped closed. “Let's get you to bed.”

“I’m not gonna sleep,” he grumbles.

“Well if I get you some more magic potion can you lie to me?”

He smiles at that, one side of his mouth going up farther than the other, like in almost every photo she saw of him during her months at Camp Half-Blood. “If you, Reyna Ramírez Allreano, get me more orange pedialyte, I will absolutely fall asleep as soon as I’m in my bed.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

#percy jackson #reyna avila ramirez arellano #reyna ramirez arellano #its been a while since i posted something for pjo #pjo #pjo fanfic #hoo fanfic #hoo #alea iacta est #Reyna!Swap au #chart writes #fic: Amicus Certus in re Incerta Cernitur #riordanverse #anyways I'm pretty happy with this and if you want some explanations or clarifications you can ask me or look at my final notes on ao3!#i already have another one in the works! it just needs to be beta read

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

♡nsfw alphabet w minho♡

I tried my best to make a list of my own, but I borrowed a few terms from this lovely template!

requested by a cutie anon!

Aftercare: (what they are like after sex) ok, so I see minho as someone who would be super caring after you’ve both properly come down and would want you to feel as comfortable as you can be--he doesn’t want you do have to do much. I am a big believer in minho drawing you a bath to help you relax and get cozy after: he’d hold you in his arms too while giving you a little massage.

Bdsm: (are they into it? how “hard” do they like to go?) yes. the answer to this is yes. I feel like minho is one who really really gets off to the feeling of being the one in control, and knowing that you’re under his control. hearing your little whimpers, or seeing the way that you toss around when he’s using toys or has you bonded turns him on like no other. along this line, I feel like he’d also gladly tease you relentlessly until you’ve got tears in your eyes. he’ll only give you what you want if you ask him nicely

Cum: (anything to do with cum) sooo minho loves cuming on you. he loves it a ton. for him, its the perfect picture when you’re gasping underneath him, just off your own orgasm, hands bound or clawing to the bed when he’ll cum on your chest, or your back, mayyybe even your face if you’re comfortable. oh! if you’ll cum on him...he doesn’t mind that either.

Degredation: (do they like using names on you, or for them?) as we have seen above, I feel like he would be into using degrading names, or having you say them back to him, for example: “you’re such a whore for my dick, tell me that you’re a whore for me.” etc. Of course, he never means what he says, he just knows that it amps things up for the both of you.

Experience: (how experienced are they?) minho is fairly experienced, and also knows well what he likes and knows how to ask you what you like as well. minho isn’t scared to give you instructions or guide you in how you pleasure him as well--he would ask you to do the same!

Favorite (pet names): well, i think that there is a general consensus that minho likes kitten and kitty--it just makes sense lol. Otherwise, the softer ones would be my love, sweetheart, hun, doll, baby girl/boy etc.

Gagging: (size kink perhaps?) I think yes on this one. minho is alll about the power that he has over you, so seeing you gag would boost his confidence. knowing that you have to work a little harder to take him in reassures him that you’re his and that you only bend to him. at the same time, he would never push you to do something that made you uncomfortable and would ask you if you wanted to use safe words/ symbols.

Hair: (how well groomed are they?) this is kind of funny because I think that minho would actually really care about this. mostly from a functionality standpoint, but also when he’s trimmed he feels more confident and like he’s got everything together and organized for when he’s with you.

Intimacy: (the romantic aspect) so minho has 2 modes, and they vary depending on his mood or yours. mode 1 is where he’s doming the hell out of you and he gets to do what ever he likes, making you cum over and over again, teasing you for as long as you can take it and doesn’t show much mercy. on the other hand, when the vibe is different, holy hell he can give you the softest, most intimate sex that you can ever experience. i’m picturing super slow and deep thrusts into you, kissing you just as slowly in between while he tangles up his hands in your hair u g h i love thinking about this

Jack off: (all about masturbation) I see Minho as one who would jack off really lazily, much later at night when there isn’t too much else to do; it isn’t something he prioritizes often unless there’s something that crosses his mind that really turns him on, he’ll even risk doing it somewhere semi-public if it means he gets to roll the image over and over in his mind, especially of you. Oh, and he loves jacking off in the shower when its steamy and warm, I don’t make the rules!!

Kink(s): Minho loves having you all dressed up for him, I’m talking lace, velvet, anything strappy, harnesses, collars, chokers, thigh garters, maybe some kitten ears, mostly he just loves watching you and this is like icing on the cake. I see him having a hand kink as well?? When he’s worshiping your body, he watches his hands trace you all over, he loves it when you suck on his fingers, or when he rubs his thumb over tongue. Also, breath play, edge play and voyeurism!

Location: anywhere. and I mean it. the more risky it is, the more exciting it is for him. bathrooms, locker rooms, dressing rooms, kitchen, living room couch, dining table, shower, bathtub, hotel rooms, the place doesn’t matter, it’s you that does. he would never miss an opportunity to be intimate with you whether its more slow and passionate or sweaty, rushed and needy.

Multiple (partners): i think that this is something that minho would be open to! but not at first. minho is someone who can be very possessive at times, so sharing you with others when the realtionship is new makes him a little nervous--bc he wants you to be all his! after a while though, the idea of sharing you with someone and watching you get wrecked under them...he wouldn’t oppose.

No: (something they won’t do, turn offs) while he won’t say no, daddy kinks aren’t his favorite, it’s simply something that doesn’t turn him on; he prefers to be the one calling you names hehe. he’s mostly an open minded person, just because he gets off on helping you get off.

Oral: loves loves giving oral to his partner, it’s one of his favorite ways to begin foreplay, he’s exceptionally skilled as well, and knows perfectly how to use his mouth to tease. gives one hell of a blowjob, and knows how to make you cum over and over just from his tongue on your clit. he won’t ask you to blow him, but rather tease you until you’re begging to do it for him.

Pace: super slow or super fuckin’ fast. there is no in-between and that’s that on that! if you ask me, as much as he revels in pounding you into the bed, it’s the slower and more sensual moments that linger on his mind longer.

Quickies: i think this goes without saying, but minho never passes up the opportunity to take you right then and now. funnily enough, if you’re at work/school and send him a message about how you might be feeling a little horny, this man will drive all the way to you just to help you out. lil anecdote: his favorite thing to do is fuck you bent over a bathroom sink, battling the time before someone notices you’re away. he loves watching your fucked out face in the tinted green bathroom mirror.

Ropes: (tying you up au) i added this to the list mostly for fun, but also I’ve got this idea of minho loosing his mind over having you tied up or restrained. ropes, ribbons, velvet, bow ties, handcuffs and much more. there’s nothing more that he likes than seeing you all helpless and not able to do anything about it. he thinks you looks so pretty tied up especially if it’s ribbons of pretty colors that look beautiful on your skin.

Stamina: bucket loads. I’ve definitely seen something somewhere talking about how minho’s got a dancers stamina and I can’t agree more. minho’s got the stamina to draw out his thrusts for hours or give it to you as quickly and as roughly as he possibly can, granted he’ll be a sweating mess by the time that he’s done, but he sees that as sign that he did his job very well.

Toys: in my oponion, yes and no. lolll I say this for the reason of minho’s ego getting in his own way. he feels fuckin’ amazing knowing that he can make you cum as hard as you do only from his body and would much rather use the tools at his disposal rather than toys...but...seeing what toys can do to you and how he can use them to his advantage is soemthing he won’t pass up. His personal favorites are all kinds of vibrators, cock rings, hmmm and occasionally nipple clamps

Unfair: (tw: dubcon) (how much that they like to tease) oh my, very much so. fuck, it’s probably his favorite thing to do to you! I’ve said before on this account that minho is into teasing even when it isn’t “that time” meaning he’ll brush up against you in public with his hand or grind himself into you when you’re sitting in his lap. his hand will creep up your thighs slightly when the two of you are in the car together to make you squirm a little bit. and of course, he’ll tease you for real when he’s got you all to himself, and would do it for hours if you let him.

Volume: frick i love thinking about this!!!! i see minho as being someone more on the quiet side: shaky exhales, choked little breaths, the occasional soft “mmm” or “ahh.” if he’s really loosing himself in it however, looking down at you with tears in your eyes, or drool slipping down your neck from blowing him, he’ll let out some of the most unapologetically erotic moans on his pink lips

Wild card: (you pick!) i would like to use this place to talk about how much a bratty sub makes him go frickin’ feral. There is something about the way that you bite back at each of his demands, it only makes him want to dig into you even harder. you’d say to him as he’s relentlessly fucking into you “i-is that all that you can do? you’re bo-boring me...” in seconds, he would have you flipped around into a completely different position, something you didn’t even know existed that makes your muscles burn but your heat ravenous. he’d say, “if i’m so boring how is it that I’ve made you a fucking mess for me three times already?”

X-ray: (what’s going on under those pleather pants) thicc thighs I’ll tell you that HA, jk that’s just me having the biggest most embarrassing thigh kink alive lmaooo. buuut it’s true! minho’s got those perfectly toned and thick thighs that he loves having you grind on of course. as for what this letter is really about, I see minho has having just the right proportions. not to be cheesy, but it’s like this boy was practically frickin made for you!! buuuut I think we all know that minho’s packing with something

Yes: (biggest turn ons) on top of the ones mentioned above, I wanna make this one kinda cute and sentimental just bc I can lolll, but a major turn on for minho is a bomb ass personality!! minho really treasures people who are unique, true to themselves and passionate about something! he finds this super super attractive. this man is an absolute SIMP for a personality and that’s the first thing he falls in love with about you! (also shhhh I’m not pushing my pan!minho agenda shhh)

Zzz: (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) kinda like with aftercare, minho can’t rest himself properly until you are fully taken care of! as soon as he knows that he’s covered all the bases: cleaning you off, getting you clothes, water, food, giving you a massage if you need it. as soon as the two of you are all cuddled up in together, then he’ll be able to relax himself, patiently smoothing down your hair as you fall asleep yourself, then, he’ll be out like a light.

#the hard and soft stan in me is thrivingg #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz #skz smut #lee minho #lee minho smut #minho smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshots #stray kids drabbles

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ghost-at-the-masquerade · 3 years

Text

The Little Things

Rating: PG, for talk of preparing an animal carcass

Count: 1856

Summary: Link has dinner with a stranger out on the road

A/N: Yes, I’m going to make Link use they/them pronouns, no I don’t take criticism on this, don’t @ me

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The smell of blood still wafted toward the camp, from where they had let the deer drain. They started at the collarbone, slicing all the way down to the groin, then up the inside of each of the legs. Someone could always use more leather, so they wanted to keep the hide well intact.

Sitting across from Link on a tree downed long ago, Stemm - a traveling chef, by his own description - started to peel carrots and potatoes. The skins he let fall among the grass, the clean vegetables he dropped into a large stockpot to wait. It was much too soon, but he needed something to do.

When Link went to wipe the sweat from their forehead with the back of their arm, they left a little smear of blood that caught a lock of hair and matted it to their eyebrow. The sight of it had Stemm’s face twisting into the most polite agony he could manage.

The time came to split open its belly and he excused himself to stoke and adjust the fires - meat and organs did better in different temperatures at different times, he said.

Link twisted around to grab another, larger pot to drop the more palatable organs in, and the rest were given back to the earth, that Farore may put them to better use.

Their boots were soiled as they worked to separate the carcass into manageable cuts, the better part of an hour drifting by them as they were engrossed in the work. Every now and again their gaze flicked over to Stemm, tutting around the camp proper. Always seeming to produce more cookware and utensils and little bottles of spices from his pack. He had a rather fine set of glass bottles he kept water in, too - as well as some spirit that stank all to hell. Highly impractical for travel compared to a waterskin, but lovely nonetheless. A pair of the ones filled with water were sitting in a half-rotted bucket with a pilfered ice rod.

They piled the meat onto a spare sheet of leather they had so they could haul it all the few feet to the fire, hefting it over the log with a grunt.

Stemm spared them a smile for all of their work. “Thank you, yes, it’ll be fine there.”

He took the opportunity to go on while they paused to take a breath, “It makes me feel like such a fraud, not doing all my own prep, but butchering is just… such ugly work.”

Link couldn’t help but cock the bloody eyebrow at him. The lock of hair came loose with the movement.

“Don’t look at me like that - it’s not that I had some… pampered upbringing, my parents did their own hunting when I was young. We just moved to a bigger town before it was my time to learn. And if someone has already prepared the meat for you, well…”

They wondered, at times, if people in their previous life had spilled their guts to them like this. Their silence left a lot of room for it.

“I suppose I was so excited to travel and to do it all myself that I didn’t think about what ‘doing it all myself’ would entail.”

Link’s expression softened some. They could sympathize with being in over one’s head.

“… What are you waiting around for? I can handle this part, you wash up.” He shooed them with one hand, pulling the meat toward himself with the other.

They huffed through their nose at his tone, but they didn’t need to be told twice.

Twilight’s somber blanket settled over the grass, made the soft sands twinkle as Link stepped into the shallow waters. Going in almost up to their knees, they found a rock to settle on, dipping their arms into the cool river flow and scrubbing the deer’s blood free from their arms and boots. Blood dried on skin is rather like the first layer of paint on raw wood, thin and clinging seamlessly.

Pulling back, droplets on their skin became flecks of gold in the dying light. They reached into a pouch at their hip for a bar of soap and comb. The bar was only about the length of their palm and a third of the width, off-white in color - not unlike honey diluted in milk. They rubbed a conservative lather into their palm; it would be some time before they returned to Hateno for more, but they wanted the copper smell off their hands. They only just remembered the smear on their face before rinsing off.

The comb was simple, a chunk of birch wood carved and left unfinished, but with much thicker teeth than their last one. Hair tie held between their lips, they dipped the comb into the river, closed their eyes and began to run it through their hair. Their ears twitched with every rustle of the trees behind them.

Clean and calmed, they took a deep breath and rose to return to camp.

Stemm greeted them heartily, in much higher spirits now that he was in his element. He already had several pounds of meat salted and packed into leather satchels, while another had been cubed for their supper.

Link took their seat at an angle to him, not quite next to him. Stemm was proving to be quite the multi-tasker around the cook pot, moving seamlessly between preserving the meat and prodding the chunk of fat he had rendering out in the bottom of the pot. It had been strung up by a chain, held aloft by three metal rods - an incredibly handy contraption, Link would have to see about finding one.

At each step, Stemm explained how staggering each ingredient’s addition would change their texture and flavor. Link sipped their chilled water and decided to keep their disagreements about what the texture should be to themself; they could deal with mushy onions in their stew for one night.

With everything coming together, he whipped out a smaller wooden spoon, took a taste and pursed his lips, looking up to the sky. “I wish I had a little sweetness to take that edge off, but I’ve just run out…”

Link’s ear twitched with a thought, and they dipped their fingers into another one of their hip pouches. From it they drew a flower, not unlike the Silent Princess, but half the size and without its luminescent qualities. They held it up as a suggestion, “Maybe this?”

“That?” Stemm leaned close to scrutinize the flower, “No, I’m afraid those are quite bitter.”

They shook their head and insisted, “Cousin of the star flower. Breeding out the glow takes out the bitterness.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Usually, yes, but they’ve been moving back that way for a while. Have you been under a rock?”

Rather than argue the point further, they popped the flower in their mouth - only to immediately stick out their tongue and let the mushed petals fall off.

Stemm laughed victoriously. “I told you!”

With their eyes unfocused on the grass, something deep within them wavered, but only momentarily. It was too silly a thing to unsettle them. Even if it was one of the few things they thought they remembered.

“The one thing I was prepared for was finding tasty plants!” He glanced again toward the dying light while digging something out of his bag.

“Don’t know how much you can do by firelight, but here-” He held out a small, leather-bound notebook, “You can copy this.”

It was soft in their hands, telling of its relative youth. The cover crackled quietly as they opened it. The pages detailed a number of edible wild plants native to central Hyrule and Necluda, including flavor profiles and notable lookalikes.

Link set it on their knee so they could sign, “Thank you, but, I don’t have anything to copy to.”

For a moment he seemed surprised. Then he shrugged, a relaxed smile crossing his face. “Keep that one, then. I can make another.”

Their mouth worked and they struggled to make the sign feel sincere enough, “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it. It won’t do me much good when I head out to Akkala, anyway.”

With that reassurance they relaxed some, settling in to skim the notes while he finished.

The sun ducked away behind the far trees and its last light vanished, turning the camp into a bright bubble in a dark ocean.

Turned out Stemm was right about it needing a bit of sweet, but it was far from inedible. Link was more than glad to take a second helping. Simple, but warm and filling. He was definitely still wrong about onions, but the potato was good.

Stemm had no stories to tell and his sign wasn’t strong enough to keep up with Link’s, so the night air was left to the crickets, crackling of fire and the tittering of breeze through the grass and leaves. In time, they agreed to part in sleep.

Link settled down into the embrace of a nearby elm. Stemm stayed closer to the fire, with his sizable pack to prop him up. Firelight faded, gave way to the silver grace of the moon, orange glowing embers not unlike the shrines waiting for them in the distance.

——

Link woke at first light. Hummed deep in their throat and stretched, scratched their shoulder against the bark before even bothering to open their eyes. They could already feel the knot that had formed in their hair.

Sitting up, they saw Stemm still asleep, his mouth dangerously open to the sky. They shook their head, starting to fix their hair when they noticed a small line of leaves laid parallel on their thigh - korok mischief. A little smile tugged at the corner of their mouth. They carefully stacked the leaves and tucked them away in a pocket.

It was time to go - their deal was done and a number of important tasks awaited them. Link stood and took a final stretch. But still, they looked over to their companion. He had done them an extra kindness.

Stemm’s rig was still set up - perhaps they could make use of it. Link knelt with a bit of bounce, considering the remnants of the fire.

They reached into the depths of a pouch and grasped the handle of a short sword - though not short enough to keep them from having to bend over at a funny angle to get it out, falling onto their hip. Exposed to the open air, the blade flared to life with eerily silent fire. A bit of tinder, another log and the tip of the blade was all that was needed. A little extra kindness, then they would go.

Three eggs scrambled into fine curds, peppered with fresh herbs and salt flakes, gently folded over on itself with a wooden spoon. A hopefully respectable omelet they set nearby under a korok leaf.

Link put their hands on their hips and regarded a man they would likely not see again, one more time. The Dueling Peaks loomed. The sun crept higher. And strangers parted.

#The Legend of Zelda #Breath of the Wild #BotW #BotW fic

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hope-to-hell · 3 years

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Still it Hurts. Pre Zemo x Bucky. Gore, wounds, knives, blood, impalement, evisceration, back-alley surgeons, angst. Pain is a sign that something is wrong. But the nature of signs depends heavily on interpretation.

It starts with the knives, or rather: Bucky’s hands on those knives, fingers clever and here comes that thought, that bet those hands are dexterous on his cock as well, and he thinks he’ll say it out loud because Zemo is not nice and not kind but he does have a hell of a death wish locked away somewhere deep inside— or so he thinks. Maybe it’s the grief. Maybe he’s just hungry. For what? Who knows. This is getting close to the heart of it though, and in this red mess emerges one shining silver thought: yes. It’s a beacon and it makes no sense, not here, not now, but such is the pull of adrenaline and the sudden shocking chill of steel.

He says the words and with his hey Bucky’s head snaps up; he scents trouble and who knows, maybe this time he’ll fall into the kinetic joy of mindless violence; maybe this time he’ll find the key that sends him home. But no. It’s just Zemo and his clutching hands, the slickness on his gloves and his sudden breathless oh.

It’s not a love song but it’s sweet when blood bubbles on Zemo’s lips; he is wide-eyed with his sclera run red and he must be dying. He must, because Bucky’s hand is inside him to the wrist. The hand chases the knife that pins Zemo to the wall from the inside out; if he slides at all he’ll open himself with his back like butterfly wings, birthed wet and new from liquid possibility.

Does it hurt?

Of course it hurts. How could it be otherwise? But it’s intimate, this moment; here they mingle breath like lovers. Here Zemo gasps at the stroking press of fingers over organs and through fascia that parts like gossamer. This is— and what is it, exactly? My coat is fucking ruined. Zemo laughs his wet red breathy laugh; it spills from him like sea foam and he shakes his wounds even wider.

Hold still, hold fucking still.

Bucky is not nice either, but he is kind, and so he holds Zemo steady with one hand while the other pets across his insides. Don’t move. Don’t move. It would be so much easier to leave, to wipe his fingers clean and let Zemo slide down the wall with a bloody stripe in his wake; he could turn his back on the way Zemo would drift apart into two halves, with all his organs strung between. And maybe that’s what Zemo wants, but it’s not what he’s going to get.

Oughta leave it in but there’s no time. No fucking time. We have to go. All around are broken bodies, many with knife wounds of their own; Bucky is fierce and merciless with his kills and he will not, cannot think about the way his hand moved faster and his teeth felt sharper when he heard Zemo’s shocked and punched-out gasp. There’s nothing to think about.

As— as you say.

Zemo’s belly open like a gaping mouth will always haunt Bucky; there are few things more terribly intimate than laying eyes on the parts of a man that were never meant to see the light. And there is so much of Zemo to be seen. With all his poise stripped away he is just a man, sinking into pain that numbs as it spreads. And yet when Bucky frees the knife it’s with a twist and tear and Zemo feels that; he thinks of beams giving way in a burning house, and lets himself fall.

He is fire and cold; he is the endless depths of crater lakes in winter. He is hurting and he doesn’t understand; every hurt before has been contained. Quantifiable. A burn, a broken limb, a bullet hole: so many marks and lines that crawl across his skin. But this is more and all he can think of is the crackling of charred wood, sparks rising into the winter sky. Zemo. Asshole. Hey, come on.

(How the hell did it even get in there?

I don’t know. We were ambushed, I was fighting, and when I turned around he’d been gutted like a fish, and he was—

Easy there. Wait outside. I’ll fix him up.)

Zemo has eyes and ears and favors to collect everywhere, even now, and this is somewhere Bucky knows from a flash of conversation that was really an instruction. I once was helped by a man who lived behind a yellow door. A veterinarian by trade— as these men so often are— but always willing to keep quiet for a little cash. Did he expect to be hurt?

Hurt? No. Try again. And when the tap-tap-tap of Bucky’s boots outside the door gives way to silence, when the drip of blood and saline has ceased, when the strange back-alley surgeon wipes his hands and sighs in weariness, Zemo claws his way to consciousness. Everything hurts and across his soft belly is a line of staples beneath a swathe of bandages; tubing runs out to buckets here and there, and if only he could catch his breath between waves of nausea and pain.

When you lost your arm— he shakes the words loose and they rattle up from his throat.

Careful, Zemo.

How much do you remember? Did you—

All of it. Every cut. Every weld. Is there a point to this?

And still it hurts.

Yeah. Every day, sometimes less and sometimes more, the hurt comes creeping in. I deal with it. Learned to live with it, to let it pass through me. It’s mostly true. I get by.

I see. Zemo’s drifting now, sinking back under. He breathes out once, twice, and then sighs his way to sleep. And Bucky waits to see what tomorrow brings.

#daniel brühl #sebastian stan #Bucky Barnes #baron zemo #Helmut zemo #Bucky barnes fic #baron zemo fic #helmut zemo fic #my fic #mcu #mcu fic #pre zemo x bucky #winterbaron

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gottaenjoythelittlethingzz · 3 years

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Early Evening

Part 2 of the ongoing, loosely interconnected series Swellview has a New First Lady.

Summary: When Ray returns to the Man Cave after a particularly messy battle against a villain, we get to see the internal workings of Cheyanne's and Ray's flirty, romantic relationship. And Cheyanne reveals exactly how much sway she holds over Ray.

*Keep in this series can be read on AO3 & FF.*

~~~~~

Cheyanne had just finished closing up the store for the night. Another shift gone over without a hitch. The counters were wiped down, the junk was newly organized into bins and separated from any loose odds and ends, and the sign hanging on the glass entrance to Junk N’ Stuff read, ‘Sorry, we’re NOT in’. The cash register was emptied, and she carried the day’s meager profits in the elevator, counting bills as she rode down.

When she stepped into the Man Cave she noticed it vacant. This suited her well. It was nice when she could turn in for an early evening. A rare occurrence in these parts.

She was halfway to the sprocket which would lead her further into the expansive underground maze when a swooshing noise halted her footsteps. A single tube shot abruptly to the floor and a blue-and-red-suited superhero dropped in.

“Honey, I’m ho-hughhh.” Ray came tumbling out of the tube clutching his stomach and nose independently. His sarcastic comment lost behind a violent, extended wrenching noise. Since he’s so use to the tube ride it was clear his nausea was in response to the black soot smudged across him from head to toe. The gooey substance was largely crusted on and had entered ever crevice possible. It replaced his normal golden eye makeup with a smoky eye look. The smell it produced wafted across the Man Cave floor and Cheyanne smelt it herself before he approached her.

Cheyanne went to cover her own mouth and nose before smiling sardonically and using two fingers to trace a subtle path from her manicured brow to her peaked lips. She tapped them lightly when questioning, “So, how’d it go?”

“Terrible!” Ray roared. He further smudged the muck on his face and temporarily lost his balance when he could no longer see. Thankfully, he stopped with a few feet of flooring between himself and Cheyanne to correct his eye sight. “Professor Putrid had us chasing him all over down town and into the Swellview ‘Sludges and Slops’ disposal plant. I fell into a vat of tar trying to land a punch on him when he sprayed me with canned skunk spray.”

“That’s horrible.” Cheyanne made her voice sound soothing and sympathetic while simultaneously desiring to reach for a bottle of Febreze. “It should really be a more difficult place to break into. How did – hmph – how’d you catch him? I assume you did in the end.”

“You better believe we caught him!” Ray scraped at his skin with both his hands looking much like a kitten trying to cleanse itself without help until he opened one eye and then finally the other. “Henry used his super power to taunt Professor Putrid in a game of tag. Led the gross weirdo underneath a bucket of quick dry cementing mud. Done in by his own prototype. They’ll have to chisel his face free to get a clear mugshot of him.” Getting his first proper look at Cheyanne in what had been hours, Ray attempted to draw nearer to her while regaling his heroic tale. “The bucket was just dangling there. Suspended ten feet off the ground. Can you believe it?”

Cheyanne made a circular motion with her arms to raise them in question. A visual distraction as she took a sizeable step backwards at the same time. “Who would have thought?”

“You’re one to know, Chey. Anyone who would do half of something like this to the Man Mane is going to serve time.” He ran his hands over his hair trying his best to peel strands loose. The tar had plastered the locks to his scalp and refused to budge. He took another step forward. He hoped to be met with affirmation of his character. “Man, I’m going to have to do my most advanced hair care routine.” The process was designed to be grueling, employed numerous creams and gels, and was assured to undo most any damages.

“It sure is a good thing there’s a new suit in each gumball because that tar is never coming out.” Cheyanne tried to take a step forward to meet him halfway, but another wave of vile odor hit her nostrils, and she relaxed her arms by her sides. Least he think she was offering her hands. “Speaking of taking criminals to jail. Is that were Henry is now?”

An expression flitted across Ray’s face, one like he had not only forgotten his sidekick had been with him mere minutes ago, but it was as though he had forgotten the teenage apprentice existed entirely. “Yeah, yeah. Henry’s taking Professor ‘Pitiful’ to Swellview county prison. Should have dropped the mad scientist off by now.”

“What have I told you about making Henry go by himself?” Cheyanne’s voice shifts from playful to maternal.

“Henry knows where the prison is. He’s been enough times. He’s totally fine!” Ray manufactured excuses. “This was just an annoying level three villain who didn’t even have a superpower. It’s not like I asked the kid to take Arson Boy to jail by himself.”

Cheyanne shook her head with concern. Her brown eyes were always warm, deep pools of understanding but could turn stern all the same. “I don’t like Henry taking criminals to jail on his own. Some of the officers pick on him for his age. The criminals could escape from him. And besides, a crime isn’t solved until the perpetrator is put away. You should have to complete each job with him. I don’t care if Henry’s getting older and is able to handle more responsibilities. It simply isn’t fair to him that he ends up pulling more hours at work than his boss.”

Ray renewed his tactic with an equal level of enthusiasm that he carried with him down the tube. “But, what if I said I wanted to hurry home to spend more alone time with Mrs. Manchester?” His eye brows climbed his forehead. He reached for her again. This time planning to snake his arms around her curvaceous waist.

“No, no, no.” Cheyanne skipped around the couch, using the furniture as a barrier between herself and the immature man. “Not until you’ve thrown that suit out in a dumpster somewhere far, far away, and taken a long, long shower.”

“Come on,” Ray clasped his hands against the rim of the mobile amenity. He made quick crab walking steps to the left and right while verbally taunting her. “You know I like to fool around in uniform.”

“That’s fine, except we can’t actually see it underneath all that foul muck!” Cheyanne was able to expertly predict Ray’s movements. She herself was unable to bite back the adoring smile from creeping onto her face.

He pointed an accusing finger her way. “Don’t act like you don’t like it just a little bit when I come back sweaty and grimy from an epic battle. You know you’re the only person I can temporarily share my ability with, huh?” Ray’s face was completely overtaken by his perfect teeth shining through his victorious grin. He could easily be swayed by his own words even when they didn’t work on anyone else around him. “It’s kind of our ‘thing’, right?”

Cheyanne gasped playfully and brought a hand up to her chest, bracelets shifting noisily to follow the path through the air her arm created, suggesting she was offended by his lewd suggestion. “There’s a lot more going on with you than natural bodily fluids, okay?”

Before she could condemn him further Ray sprang into action. He catapulted his legs over the couch, slide across the table, and landed with his feet on the cushioned seat directly in front of Cheyanne. She was startled by his boisterous movements and leapt backwards straight into the monitors’ chair. She was able to narrowly dodge his sweeping arms.

“Ulch,” Ray complained. He collapsed against the backrest. His head and arms drooping over the edge. “You’re really not going to jump on this opportunity while there are no crimes in progress, and no one is down here to bug us?”

Cheyanne cocked her head and calmly stood from the seat. She spun it in her hands and walked behind the object to place it between them. “Maybe I will reconsider…” She tapped her nails rhythmically to call his eyes onto her. “But first you must get rid of that old suit. And you have to shower - twice.”

Ray smirked at the images his idea called to mind. “Or maybe you could join me in the –.”

“Shower twice!” In a flash, his face morphed with disgruntlement. Flopping dramatically onto his back and sliding off the couch feet first, he began begrudgingly heading towards the stairs. His feet stomping. He might have mumbled something under his breath.

“And darling,” Cheyanne called to his retreating form.

Ray stopped to look over his shoulder. Hope swelled upon hearing his pet name used.

“Put on one of the shirts I like.”

Ray rotated his shoulders to face her, his expression suddenly befuddled. “You mean, don’t put on one of the many loud button up shirts I wear?”

Cheyanne clicked her tongue and nodded assertively.

He brought his hands up to his chest where he tapped his fists together. “Th-the blue one or the purple one?”

Cheyanne gave him a once over before replying with a curt, “Surprise me.”

“And then, maybe…” his voice trailed. The back of his neck warm to the touch.

“I can be persuaded.”

With an emphatic nod, Ray stated, “I can do that.” He promptly headed towards the shower. A new sense of urgency in his steps.

~~~~

No edit this time, but maybe in the future. Feel free to let me know what you think of this couple so far!

#nevada writes #wip series #henry danger fanfiction #oc: Cheyanne #henry danger #ray manchester #i ship them #writeblr #writeblr community #humour

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livingcorner · 3 years

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12+ Ways to Make $1000 a Month from Your Garden (Year Round!)

They say when you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life. Well, I love my garden and given a choice I’d be out there amongst my garden beds day and night. There’s a big difference between gardening and farming though, and while I love my garden I’m not cut out for the life of a farmer.

While bringing in a full-time gardening income is a bit tricky, making a side income from your garden is easier than you’d think.

You're reading: 12+ Ways to Make $1000 a Month from Your Garden (Year Round!)

Most people see gardening as a seasonal endeavor, that starts in the spring and ends in the fall, coming and going each year. Up here in Vermont, our summer growing season is only a sad 100 days or so, and if I confined my efforts to those short months it wouldn’t make for much of a side hustle. I think it’s important to find a way to earn a consistent side income, so I’m providing options for every month of the year (even in a cold climate like ours).

Beyond that, our land is mostly forested, which means the definition of “garden” is a bit loose. We grow mushrooms in the shady spots and tap maple trees in season. We also forage the wild bounty that nature’s garden has provided, meaning that we don’t have to limit our “gardening” to a small tilled section of the yard.

Even if you’re lacking space in a small suburban lot, expanding outside of the traditional garden into local parks, or taking your garden indoors with salad sprouts, closet mushrooms, and seedling trays will allow you to make use of the space you have year-round.

Here are a few options to earn a substantial side income from your garden every season of the year, with ideas for both city and country folk.

(Be sure to check local laws and restrictions before you start with anything, as those vary widely from place to place.)

Winter Garden Income

While you’d think winter would be the slow season for backyard garden income, believe it or not, it’s actually the best time for making money from your garden. You’re generally less busy with planting and weeding, but everyone is stuck inside dreaming of the garden bounty to come.

Indoor Salad Gardening

January is when everyone’s making new years resolutions to live healthier and eat more salads, but it’s a pretty rough time for gardening in most places. If right around the end of the year you plan ahead with an indoor salad gardening setup, you’ll be in the perfect position to market microgreens and sprouts when they’re in high demand.

Local farms around here sell winter micro greens CSA’s and unlike summer shares where they net less than a dollar on a head of lettuce, winter greens command high prices. A small bag of specialty microgreens runs $12 to 15 each. And I really mean a small bag, maybe 3 cups of at most.

The trick is to grow high-quality, specialty greens that get people excited when the grocery store options are minimal. The book Year Round Indoor Salad Gardening is a great resource to get started, and covers all you’d need to know to grow your own greens. At that point, the problem is scaling up and marketing.

Start a Small Backyard Seed Company

You may think you need to be some kind of multi-national to sell seeds, but in reality, customers are looking toward sustainably grown seed for specialty heirloom varieties these days. It doesn’t get much more sustainable than a backyard garden, and buying seed locally ensures that you’ll get varieties perfectly suited to a particular growing region.

Choosing the right crops is key to generating a good income selling seeds. Tomato seed, for example, is very easy to save and a single tomato often has enough seed to supply a dozen seed packets. The flowers are self-contained, and it actually takes work for plant breeders to hybridize a variety, which means they’ll come true to variety even with many different types grown in the same garden.

Most importantly, people get really excited about tomatoes. Ever wonder why 1/3 of any seed catalog seems to be tomato seed? With all that love for tomatoes, customers are liable to drop $5 for a locally grown packet of seeds for a really great variety.

While tomatoes are really easy, there are many varieties that aren’t much harder. You need to know a bit about seed saving, not only harvesting and cleaning the seed, but about how pollination and selection works by variety. Some varieties require a minimum population size to avoid inbreeding in the long term, and all that’s important to know before you get started.

Seed to Seed is generally recognized as the most encyclopedic book on seed saving, covering just about every variety you can imagine. It has great breadth to get you started, but not a whole lot of depth.

The Seed Garden is hands down my favorite seed saving book. It’s well written and covers varieties in great depth. It’s authored by The Seed Savers Exchange which does great work in the field of preserving heirloom varieties.

The Complete Guide to Seed Saving has a lot of stellar reviews, and it’s the next one I’m going to add to my gardening library.

Even in a small town environment here in Rural Vermont, there are about a dozen local seed companies. High Mowing Seed started out really small just down the road from us, and now they’re a big national brand. Milkweed Medicinals sells specialty seed that’s hard to find, and they now sell in all the local coops.

Find your niche and there’s a great income to be made with homegrown seed.

Selling Cuttings

Even easier than saving seed, selling cuttings is an easy way to make a healthy income from your established plants in the winter months. There are a number of varieties, like grapes for example, that need to be cut back or pruned in the winter. Those cuttings are perfect for starting new plants and many gardeners are willing to pay good money for tiny pieces of your established crops.

I just bought 30 elderberry cuttings from Norms Farms at $4 each to propagate at home. Elderberries grow readily from cuttings, and it’s an economical way for me to get a huge bed of them started. Elderberry plants from a nursery cost about $30 each, so I’m happy with the transaction and the seller just made $120 off a tiny box of trimmings.

There are a number of plants that grow well from hardwood cuttings, some like black currants, are as simple as snipping off a tip and sticking it into the ground. Others require a bit more attention and prep work to the cuttings, but they’re still beginner level.

Scion wood, or cuttings from apple trees to be grafted onto rootstock, is similarly lucrative. All you need is a couple of established apple trees of known varieties and you can harvest cuttings for sale.

Usually, each cutting is only a few inches long, so shipping them isn’t a big issue. There’s a marketplace on the seed savers exchange website, and a scion wood cutting sells for about $4 each.

Start by learning a thing or two about plant propagation, first so that you can establish your own cutting beds, and then so you can educate customers on how easy it is to grow plants from cuttings. Try reading Practical Woody Plant Propagation for Nursery Growers to get you started.

Read more: Why Does My Garden Hose Keep Bursting? | GardenAxis.com

A handful of elderberry cuttings that sell for $4 each.

Growing Mushrooms Indoors

Learning to grow mushrooms is a bit different than most standard garden crops, so this one will take some studying for even seasoned gardeners. Still, there’s the potential to grow large crops from a small indoor space year-round.

The book Organic Mushroom Farming and Mycoremediation describes in detail how to set up a back closet, extra nook or spare bathroom to grow mushrooms with minimal time investment (2 hours a week).

He has a great breakdown of costs, inputs, and yields…but in summary, you can make about $100 per week from a small setup that takes up a 4’x4′ footprint. The system scales easily, with minimal extra time investment, meaning you only need slightly more space to increase that to a grand per month.

The best part, they can grow in recycled 5-gallon buckets picked up from restaurants, and they consume waste products like spent coffee grounds, that you can often pick up for free.

If you have access to outdoor space and hardwood logs, growing shiitake mushrooms is also a great place to start for beginners, but outdoors, harvests would be in the warmer months rather than winter.

I don’t know about you, but when I had an office job my co-workers would have loved to buy fresh mushrooms to take home for a fancy Friday night meal.

Spring Garden Income

Spring is when everyone’s mind is dead set on their own gardens, and it’s a great time to capitalize on the surge in interest in all things green.

Selling Dandelions (and other wild weeds)

While countless suburbanites are spraying their lawns trying to eradicate the dandelions, more savvy gardeners are realizing that one person’s weed is another’s delicacy. Dandelions are edible root to shoot, and better yet, they’re also highly medicinal.

Dandelion root tincture sells for about $12 per ounce, and it only takes a root or two per ounce. The spring greens are highly sought after by local food coops, where they sell for $4-5 per bundle. Not bad for a pile of weeds.

Beyond dandelions, there’s all manner of early spring green “weeds” that can command high prices if you know how to identify, harvest and process them. Chickweed is incredibly invasive, but also delicious, and chickweed tincture has plenty of medicinal uses too.

There’s nothing like making a bit of side income from weeding your garden early in the spring. You’ve got to do it anyway, might as well make it pay.

Dandelion roots harvested for homemade tincture.

Growing Spring Ephemerals

An ephemeral is a crop that has a very short season, and it may only be around for a few weeks before the plants go dormant (or unharvestable) for a full year. Ramps, or wild leeks, are a slow-growing ephemeral that’s only around for a few weeks in the spring, but during that time they’re in high demand by both home cooks and fancy chefs. Knowing where to find a good wild patch is hard, but they’re actually remarkably easy to naturalize in your own backyard.

Growing ramps from seeds just requires the right conditions. Moist soil, under the shade of deciduous trees. The more leaf cover the better.

You’re not growing anything else in that much shade, so growing your own ramps is a great way to earn top dollar from an otherwise unproductive patch of land. This is a long-term venture though, as leeks are slow-growing, and they’ll require about 5-7 years before your first harvest, but after that, a well-tended and sustainably harvested patch can last indefinitely.

Fiddleheads are another crop that’s generally wild foraged, but it’s remarkably easy to cultivate. They can actually be pretty invasive, and I spent a long time weeding them out of my garden so I could grow anything else. I just dug them up and tossed them into a heap, and they kept on growing and spreading from there as if nothing happened.

Fiddleheads can be really productive, and they sell for about $20 a pound here in Vermont where they’re common. You might get even better prices somewhere they’re more scarce.

Since they’re productive, fern heads can be pickled to extend their season, so you can market the bumper crop a bit longer.

My daughter holding a harvest of fiddleheads and ramps.

Selling Spring Seedlings

Selling spring veggie seedlings is an obvious choice. Tomato seeds cost about a tenth of a cent each, but a healthy started plant can easily sell for $5. Sure, there’s the cost for potting soil and pots, but the profit margin is still huge on seedling sales.

The trick is, you’re investing your time and energy into starting plants off right, so others don’t have to. This is one of the most lucrative ways to make money from your garden if you invest in the right equipment and can master the process.

A greenhouse, even a small backyard model, is essential for producing seedlings early enough in the season. As for resources to get you started, The New Seed Starter’s Handbook covers everything in detail, including troubleshooting guides if your plants aren’t performing.

Beyond the income from selling seedlings, you’ll also save a boatload by starting your own seeds instead of purchasing starts. That’s one of those penny saved is a penny earned propositions, and any seedlings you don’t sell can just go right into your own garden.

Take a look at the local market this spring, and see if there are any gaps. Do all the tomato seedlings sell out quickly, or is the market flooded? If there’s plenty of other vendors, consider growing something niche like medicinal herbs.

Start a Backyard Nursery

Similar to growing out your own veggie seedlings, starting your own backyard nursery extends the income beyond the busy spring season. If you’re growing perennials, you don’t have to worry about any unsold plants at the end of the year. Just tuck them in for the winter and try to sell them next year.

Propagating plants from cuttings is remarkably easy, and all it takes is a bit of time and patience. Those elderberry cuttings that sold for $4 each (above) as trimmings will sell for $25 to $30 as full-sized potted bushes in a few years. Just the patience, time and space required to grow out the plants pays back in dividends later.

This is actually a big part of our retirement plan, and we’re putting in perennials throughout our land to serve as cutting sources later when we open our nursery. In the meantime, they’re beautiful, and most are edibles like elderberries, so we’re harvesting the fruit for our table while we patiently bide our time to retirement.

Backyard plant nurseries don’t require that much space, as potted plants can be stored fairly close together.

Summer Garden Income

Summer is peak growing season and it’s a great time to earn income from what you’re growing at home. The big farms and CSA operations have the lettuce market cornered, but backyard gardeners can break into the market by offering really novel crops. Start by focusing on high-dollar items and unique crops that get people’s attention.

High Dollar Specialty Crops

You’re never going to compete with the 100 acre organic CSA down the road on most generic crops, but those big operations cant grow everything. They can grow a lot of the staples most families use every day, but backyard gardeners can grow small amounts of truly specialty crops that demand high prices. Here are a few good options:

Husk Cherries – Also known as ground cherries, these plants produce huge crops of sweet pineapple/strawberry flavored fruit. They grow on plants similar to tomatoes, and each bright orange fruit is wrapped in a papery husk. Just one taste and you’ll want more.

Before we were growing our own, I’d buy them for $5 a pint…now I know that each plant can produce more than a gallon of fruit even with neglect. If you hand out samples, these will sell themselves. It also helps if you give people creative ways to use them.

Cucamelons – Also known as mouse melons, these tiny little grape-sized cucumbers taste like a cross between a cucumber and lime. They’re really wonderful fresh out of hand, and they make great pickles or mixed drinks. The cuteness factor means that these sell for about $5 per half-pint.

Berry Pick Your Own

To complement our backyard nursery retirement plans, we’re also planning a pick your own operation. This requires more space than most of the other ideas on this list, but after the initial setup, labor is pretty minimal.

A while back I calculated the rate of return on a raspberry pick your own, and you’d need about 250-row feet to produce $1000 worth of raspberries. For us on 30 acres, that’s a drop in the bucket, but that may be more space than you can devote to any one crop.

Strawberries are similar, in that a plant generally yields about a pound of fruit in a season, and requires 1-row foot. At $4 per pound, you’d need the same amount of row feet as raspberries. The benefit there is, strawberry rows are much more closely spaced so this may be more practical for some.

Read more: 37 Garden Border Ideas To Dress Up Your Landscape Edging

Garden Tours, Tea Times & Classes

Though it’s not my cup of tea, garden tours and country tea times are a good option for flower gardeners. A local nurseryman around here makes a good side income hosting tea time in his home garden, and runs an annual tour of his extensive plantings, along with specialty days for big blooms (like daffodils). Our gardens are more down-to-earth and “homestead” than they are attractive, but many people’s are just the opposite.

All it takes is a few tables, a decent scone recipe, and a few good teapots, and you’re ready to run a weekly afternoon tea time in the garden. Add in tours and maybe a few gardening classes and you’ve got yourself a ready source of income from your own beautiful backyard.

Medicinal Herbs

With the increasing demand for more alternative remedies, there’s never been a better time to grow medicine in your backyard. Locally grown herbs are still hard to find in most areas, but plenty of people are looking for them.

Many medicinal herbs are perennials, which means you plant them once and you can harvest them for years. And the same compounds that make the plants medicinal also make them resistant to deer and insects, which means less maintenance than garden veggies. For the most part, they’re perennial, persistent and more importantly…profitable.

There’s a high demand for medicinal tinctures since they’re ready to use, and our local coop has half an aisle dedicated to them. Tinctures sell for $8 to $12 an ounce, but they only cost about $1 to $2 an ounce, even if you’re buying in the herbs rather than growing them.

Add in another $1 for the tincture bottle, and you’re still making a pretty sizable profit per bottle. Choosing crops that are common and in high demand, like echinacea tincture can help you break into the market.

As you’re just getting started, I’d recommend Backyard Medicine as a way to dip your toe into harvesting and making your own herbal remedies, especially from wild crops. If you’re considering growing herbs for profit I’d highly recommend The Organic Medicinal Herb Farmer: The Ultimate Guide to Producing High-Quality Herbs on a Market Scale. It’s written by farmers that grow just a few towns over from us, and they’ve inspired a lot of people to take up growing medicine for the market.

The Herbal Academy of New England also has a course designed specifically for herbal entrepreneurs. The course walks you through the basics of creating your own brand identity, marketing, sourcing herbal ingredients, manufacturing herbal remedies and creating a business plan around herbs and herbal remedies.

Fall Garden Income

The end of the garden season, fall is generally when the crops come in. In my mind though, it’s one of the more challenging times to make income as a small producer.

There are a lot of products on the market, and it’s hard to stand out. With the holidays right around the corner though, marketing yourself as a niche producer of really unique homegrown gifts can work to your advantage.

Honey & Bee Products

Gardeners need bees and bees need gardeners! Raising honey bees is a great way to support pollinator communities, but with all the challenges that face hives these days, it’s best to be educated before you start. There’s a really great book called Natural Beekeeping: Organic Approaches to Modern Apiculture that covers just about everything you need to know to keep your bees healthy naturally.

In a good year, with our short Vermont growing seasons, bees can produce as much as 100lbs of honey for harvest. The current bulk price at our coop, meaning bring your own container nothing fancy…is $7 per pound. Pre-packaged just in mason jars, honey goes for $10-12 per pound, and considerably more in specialty gift packaging.

Add in things like bee pollen or propolis for medicinal use, or comb honey, and you have yet more high-dollar items to market.

Honey, especially locally sustainably raised honey is in high demand just about everywhere. People are realizing that bees are important to our environment, and many will be happy to pay for local honey just knowing that it means supporting someone who is stewarding such an important resource in their neighborhood.

Apples, Cider and Cider Press Rentals

My doctor has a small apple share side hustle that she runs with her sister, selling harvest shares to neighbors in her spare time. They have a few full-sized apple trees, and each one produces around 100 to 120 pounds of apples per year. These days, conventionally grown supermarket apples are about $3 per pound…and locally grown apples fetch a premium above that.

She sells shares ahead of time and then divides the harvest as each tree comes to bear. Distributing them to shareholders every week or two as each variety ripens over the season.

We have other neighbors who sell fresh cider that they press from their trees, at $12 per gallon. Last year we pressed nearly 80 gallons from our trees, most of which went into hard cider and homemade cider syrup (like maple syrup), but we easily could have sold it instead. Instead of selling our cider, we have a different strategy for earning our income during apple season.

We invested in an efficient double-barrel cider press, with the thought that we can rent it out to other small apple producers. People with one or two trees in their backyard love the novelty of pressing their own cider, and around these parts a press rents for about $50 for the afternoon. Over the course of the season that can really add up…

Year-Round Garden Income

Beyond different things you can do seasonally to earn a few thousand a couple of months a year, there are things you can do year-round to earn a steady income related to your garden.

Garden Blogging

I know, making income from blogging seems too good to be true, but writing about diy, gardening, and self-sufficiency is now my full-time job. Within 6 months of starting this blog, I started making an extra $1000 a month. After 9 months of writing, I was able to quit my day job, and now at 18 months in I bring in more each month than any job I’ve ever had.

The best part? All I do is write about what we’re already doing here in our daily lives, and I spend my days playing in the garden and out foraging in the woods with my kids.

I was inspired to take the leap into blogging when I read the book Make Money Blogging at Any Level by my blogger friend, Victoria at A Modern Homestead. She outlines in detail how to earn a substantial income, even from a very small blog.

She was able to retire her husband and supports her family exclusively with her blog. If you’re considering blogging as a source of income it’s worth the investment. It’s $27 for the book, and I made that back in my first week with my blog following her tips.

She also has a much more comprehensive blogging e-course that takes you through everything you need to know to launch your own profitable blog. It’s a bit more of an investment, but it’s the perfect way for a beginner to learn everything they need to know to launch their blog fast and start earning money.

Garden Micro-Influencer

Making money on Instagram is all the rage these days, and you’d be surprised how many companies are willing to send you free products just for a promise that you’ll post at least 1 picture of it to Instagram with honest feedback. Once you have even a small following, companies will pay you for your time reviewing it (and you still get to keep it for free…)

Looking for a little inspiration? You can always follow along on my Instagram for ideas…

Hopefully, this helps inspire you to turn your gardening passion into a meaningful side hustle. If you have any other ideas, let me know in the comments below.

More Income Inspiration

How to Make a Full-Time Income Off-Grid

8 Ways to Make an Extra $1000 a Month on a Small Homestead

Making Money with Small Scale Maple Sugaring

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/12-ways-to-make-1000-a-month-from-your-garden-year-round/

#livingcornernews

6 notes · View notes

dekuscrybaby · 4 years

Text

dancing bachata with him

pairing(s): iwaizumi x reader, nishinoya x reader, bokuto x reader, yamaguchi x reader, tendou x reader, oikawa x reader (all separate)

requested: no; just self-indulgent writing and i wanted a reason to listen to bachata

word count: 2.6k+ words

warnings: slight manga spoiler (timeskip)!! wrote this as gn as i could, but thought of a f!reader when i wrote it, sorry if i offend anyone. dancing gets steamy and suggestive. mentions and implications of sex, not proofread at all

a/n: i added some songs that i felt vibed with the character so feel free to listen to them if you want. gets repetitive at one point. this is also my second time trying to post this so uhhhhh apologies

iwaizumi:

the birthday boy!!

so this man, i just know he knows how to dance bachata

i mean he went to uni in california, there’s a ton of hispanics and latinos there bro

i know for a fact he befriended one of them and by default, he was dragged to a party at one point

which is exactly where you are right now

you and iwa were invited to a mutual friend’s little sisters quince

so, you’re both sitting at a table as the music is roaring through the sound system

the moment iwa hears romeo santo’s voice begin to ring through the room, he’s instantly standing up, stretching his hand to you

propuesta indecente or odio vibe mega hard with this man

“let’s go”

“go where?” you asked, not really expecting iwaizumi to be into dancing

“dance, of course. unless you don’t want to?” a nervous expression was on his face now.

“you know how to dance to this type of music?”

“of course i do, i’m what you call cultured”

so you take his hand and walk onto the dance floor with him

you kinda know the basics of the dance style so you’re not too nervous when you get into your own space of the dance floor

he put his hands in front of his body, a hint for you take them as he slowly began to lead you in the dance

you both kept your distance at first and you couldn’t help but admire the sensual way his body was moving

you both moved in accordance to the songs beat before he pulled a quick on you

he intertwined your fingers on one hand and allowed his other hand to travel down your waist

feeling extra confident in himself, he pulled you into his body and slotted one of his thighs between your own

not stopping your movements whatsoever

“wasn’t that awfully smooth of you, mr. iwaizumi?”

“you already know it. gotta keep you on your toes, no?”

to which you laugh at bc being with him is already a treat in itself

definitely has you wrap both your arms around his neck so you can be closer

he has one arm hanging lowly your waist while the other sneakily settles onto your upper thigh

very smooth and touchy man

iwa makes sure to hold you so incredibly close while smoothly maneuvers you both across your little spot on the floor

he definitely spins you when he finds it necessary

would for sure end up kissing you during a song

maybe a cheesy ass dip at the end, even if doesn’t seem to fit the song

all in all, 1000000/10 dance partner

would let him maneuver me any way he wants

nishinoya:

this is gonna be so self-indulgent so apologizes beforehand

so, in my head, noya travels the world a lot

and he’s a latin/hispanic king in the eyes of many so yes he’s visited various of these countries. you go along with him too ofc

and yes, he can dance bachata and various other dance styles

unlike iwa, he’s a lot intimate about this bc he’s the ultimate simp

he’d do anything to have your body pressed tightly against his own

especially if you’re wearing something irresistible

also unlike iwa, he vibes best with prince royce bc in my head they’re both like more upbeat and wholesome? idk if that makes sense but it does in my head

def incondicional or darte un beso vibes

BUT if he’s feeling frisky that night, definitely see te robaré

mans would not ask you if you want to dance

he’d DRAG you out to dance

strong believer that it’d be a good first for your relationship bucket list

“yuu, where are we going?”

“to dance, duh.”

“you didn’t even ask me though…”

“don’t have to! i know you’ll love it.”

“love what?”

“this.” he instantly pulls you into his body, wide smirk on his face

there’s virtually no space between you two

can’t even slip a piece of paper between you two

your breath hitches at the close proximity, you can feel his breath against the shell of your ear

who knew noya could be this smooth?

your mind is definitely thinking of other activities but you come back to earth when he begins to dance to the beat

one, two, three, (four)

he makes sure to keep you in beat

while also making sure he can feel every ridge of your body on his own

your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck

has his around your waist

he likes sneaking playful gropes in your ass or even waist if he wants to be more innocent

mans is touchy touchy, that’s the way to describe him easily

LOVES to spin you and also loves to be spun

your full body is in motion with this man and you’re not going in just one direction, you’re moving every which way (very organized tho)

sneaks in kisses between spins

also an amazing partner and bc i am an extra simp for this libero i rate him a 10000000/10

bokuto:

also an honorary member of the hispanic/latino community

very very cultured man

he plays pro volleyball so he’s bound to travel to other countries

honestly, he’s never practiced bachata with a partner

he has seen people do it though so he has a very general idea of how to dance it

bokuto is currently on an away game on a different country and he flew you out

simp, you know?

you guys went to a club, destress a little and just let loose

definitely vibes with monchy & alexandria bc the vibes are immaculate, especially on hoje en blanco and dos locos

anything that’s fast-paced and all-around energetic is perfect for mr. bokuto

also does not ask you to dance

but instead of just dragging you, he pleads for you with his eyes

puppy dogs before glancing between you and the pile of bodies dancing

you HAVE to take the hint or else he’ll be really bummed out

bokuto: 🥺👀🥺

you: ???

bokuto, in bold: 🥺👀🥺

you sigh at this, “kou, would you like to go dance?”

”i thought you’d never ask, babe! c’mon let’s go!” he’s literally beaming

you’re dragged away right after that

similarly to noya, he loves having your body pressed to his

but bc he’s not as experienced, he keeps you at a safe distance so he doesn’t accidentally step on you or something

that changes once he gets more confident

or when he sees a couple do something he wants to try with you

also loves to spin you

loves pressing your back to his chest and dancing like that for a bit before spinning you back around so he can see your pretty face

holding onto your hips and helping guide them just the way he likes

loves pressing his thigh between your own, might make you come closer so he can feel you better

also likes groping you, with consent ofc

sometimes he gets too distracted with the way you’re moving that he loses count of the beat and ends up messing up

part of the distraction would come from him smooching you anytime he please which makes you guys stumble a few times

that’s okay though

he makes up for his mistakes in energy and enthusiasm

how would i rank this man? hmm

1000/10 very fun to be around so he’s a very fun dance partner

yamaguchi:

hate to say it but mans does not know how to dance bachata

sorry yamaguchi stans, just had to to say

man works in electronics!!!

hardly goes out as it is

but you eventually get him to leave the house every once in a while

one of those times being rn, at a co-worker’s party

you honestly can’t remember what it’s for but there’s loud music playing

also gives me prince royce vibes but like,,, early prince royce, ya dig?

i’m talking corazón sin cara and even soy el mismo bc bro y’all are soft

you’d have to take the lead with him for the first few minutes of the song

maybe seconds bc he’s a quick learner, especially if he’s observing

this man is the only one who’d actually ask you to dance before even trying to drag you out of your seat

he looks at you with these cute eyes bc man is love in with you

“do you wanna go dance? this song looks like fun.”

“ashi, do you know how to dance this type of song?”

“well, no, but i want to try with you. do you want to?”

who are you to say no?

so unlike the other three, he’s a lot sweeter and maybe even shy while you’re dancing

idk if y’all know but he’s basically a little kid trying to dance with you

you guys keep like an arms distance and probably do not get much closer

you guys do move your arms around and bring them a tad bit closer to spice things up

but otherwise, you guys won’t get too close, especially bc this is his first time dancing bro bachata

lots of soft gazes

he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world and that shit’s cute

loves complimenting you as you’re both dancing

all in all it’s just a pure moment, nothing too spicy for the first time around or second for that matter

10/10 dance partner, learns quickly but still not too confident in himself

tendou:

KING!! HE IS THE MAN IVE BEEN SIMPING OVER FOR A WHILE

cheeky mf would be so good at this

does he know how to dance it?

but he’s the fastest learner and also very very sensual with these sort of thing so he’s amazing

idk what he does as a profession but he’s still the same person from high school, just a tad more professional in the workplace

gives me the fattest aventura vibes (if you haven’t realized i don’t know much about bachata, murder me)

obsesión and el malo vibe or maybe even los infieles

very similar to iwaizumi and his way of dancing bachata

but less smooth and more cheeky

very very cheeky

“baby, let’s go dance”

“yeah, give me a min-“

you do not get a minute, his big hand is already instantly wrapping around your arm to pull you up

“tori, do you even know how to dance to this?”

he laughs, “no, i’m smooth but not that smooth.”

you’re left a little confused but the moment he pulls you in tightly, your worries disappear

“just follow my lead,” he whispers in a seductive voice

he places on hand on your waist and the other holding yours just at your waist level

he instantly slots his thigh between your own and leads you guys through your spot on the floor

loves when you pop your hip to the beat

as every moment passes, he pulls you closer and closer

to the point where all you can breathe is his cologne and the alcohol in his breath

might lean down to press a few teasing kisses to your neck

mans might even grind his crotch down on your thigh

he wants to leave you as flustered as possible

was this a plan for him to take you back home so he could ravage your body? maybe, but he won’t admit, that’s the fun in it

also loves to spin you but he does it outward so he can catch a full look of how you’re dressed

bites his lip when he sees you enjoying himself

ceo of dirty compliments in your ear as you’re both dancing

LOVES LOVES LOVES seeing your flustered face as you guys are so so so close

he’d for sure try and start a makeout session in the middle of the song

something about the passionate atmosphere between all the couples, really gets him going

also sneaks in gropes along with the grinding

once he realizes how much he loves dancing to this music, he wants to go out and do it more

rate for this man?

100000000000/10 broke the scale plenty of times

i want to be his dance partner, please 😔😔

oikawa:

HE LIVES IN ARGENTINA

HE KNOWS ALL ABOUT ARGENTINIAN CULTURE AND AND OTHER HISPANIC/LATIN COUNTRIES

YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

anyway, he takes you guys to a bar as well

you’re visiting him so he has to show you the best parts of the country and this is the end of your day

the spanish music blaring through the speakers gets him in such a great mood bc he wants to have his own little spanish opera moment with you

also gives me aventura vibes but the lighter more romantic music of it

very playful with it

def un beso and dile al amor or even ella y yo if he wants to get spicy with it (even if it’s like a mix of reggaetón and bachata, maybe pop, idk i’m whitewashed 😔)

“my love, do you want to go and dance with me? i love this song.”

“since when do you dance, tooru?” you tease him

“i’ve been a cultured man since i’ve landed in this beautiful country”

“really now?”

“yeah, would you like a demonstration, y/n/n?”

YOU CANNOT SAY NO TO HIM

especially not when he’s looking down at you with this smug grin on his face

does things to you, ngl

he pulls you up and instantly wraps an arm around your waist as he leads you towards the dance floor

he knows how to dance so he instantly rests his hand on your lower back

takes the lead without telling you, you have to have faith him and his skills

sways you both PERFECTLY in beat

his other hand is at his side but he is not stuff at all

his body is loose with it, just the way it should be

asks you to wrap your arms around his neck maybe even asks you to hold onto his cheek and give him a smooch

has you giggling the entire time bc he’s such a dork but he’s your dork

SPANISH SPANISH SPANISH

he sings the lyrics to you in such a quiet voice just for you two to hear

he has an accent when he’s singing bc it’s like his third language but it’s still the cutest thing ever

also loves praising you in spanish or even giving you spanish nicknames

“te miras tan hermosa, bailando conmigo así, mi amor.”

you either know what it means or you don’t

if you do, you’ll blush and come up with an equally cute spanish compliment

“gracias, mi rey. te vas tan chulo debajo de esta luz.” (thank you, my king. you look so good/cool underneath this lighting)

or you don’t have a clue what he said but he said in such a low tone that you assume he said something nice

“i said that you look so gorgeous, dancing with me like this, my love.” he laughs at the lost expression on your face

his laugh is contagious so you end up laughing as well before leaning in to connect your lips, as the song begins to dwindle down

also enjoys twirling you about when it’s appropriate, adds in to the giggly fun part of him as a dance partner

now, i’m not a simp for oikawa but i would simp for him over him if he offered to be my dance partner

i rate him a 100000/10 for a dance partner

206 notes · View notes

second-chance-stray · 3 years

Photo

RP Log: (Bucket List) Cravs and Lin go looking for a Pineapple.

Cravendy Hound - Circling steps can be heard upstairs. Thump, thump, thump, pause. Thump, thump thump. Finally, with a bucket full of papers in her arms, Cravs steps down the stairs looking bothered...her mind lost in who knows where. And what happens next is completely out of character for her - she trips! The notes scatter into the air.

Aislinn North ask anyone who knew her and most would tell you that Aislinn was a patient person. But everyone has their limits. She sat in the library pushing her notes around on the wide table. There was nothing for her to do but wait. Wait for Atreus to return from Ishgard with some news. Any news. Her utter lack of doing anything productive was interrupted by Cravendy's tumble down the stairs. She looks up sharply from her notes at the clattering noise and watches the pages waft....

Aislinn North gently down around the Seawolf like oversized confetti. She's quiet as they settle. Then, she's prodded into action, getting to her feet and making her way to the woman. "Are you alright?" she asks as she kneels down and starts collecting the papers.

Cravendy Hound: "Goddamn, 'alf broken buncha wooden...L-LIN?!" Cravs blusters. She forces the next string of swears back down with a pained swallow. Lin was just the person she was looking for, but she wasn't ready. The entirety of her morning had been spent procrastinating, organizing and reorganizing the notes that were now lay dispersed across the floor.

Cravendy Hound hurriedly begins to gather the papers in sloppy handfuls while her mind races to come up with a plan. A set of words to respectfully ask - do you want to work on Wyda's bucket list? Not to take anything away from what you two had, but she's gone, and she wanted to do a lot with you...maybe it'd be a nice thing to do anyway? Without realizing it, Cravs mutters those two questions out loud.

Aislinn North gives Cravendy a sidelong glance, a short huff of amusement issuing from her chest as she continues collecting the papers. "You sound surprised." she said, her quiet voice dry as usual. As she's depositing a handful of pages in Cravendy's bucket and concentrating on -NOT- asking Cravendy why she's carrying about papers in a bucket, the Seawolf's blurted words fill the space between them. Aislinn's hand stills at the pail's rim, pages in hand. She stares at Cravendy, her face carefully blank..

Aislinn North Looking down at the pages, she can now make out Wyda's scrawled handwriting. "These are Wyda's papers?"

(Aislinn North) ((OMG....a literal bucket list XD)) (Cravendy Hound) gotta do it xD ))

Cravendy Hound: "Blood 'ell. Bloody seven 'ells. Did I? I did, didn't I? I bloody did, didn't I?" Cravs stammers, heat rising into her already flushed face. She can't bear to get up and look at Lin's face, instead just sort of...sinks deeper towards the ground, trying and failing to hide how red she is. "A-aye. She left 'em on the floor and walls of our room like a crazy person, shite like 'go sleddin' and 'go sleddin' backwards.' And a lotta them call ye out. Like, erm."

Cravendy Hound feels around and grabs a random paper. "Eat pineapples. With...Lin. So do you maybe want to...find one and...eat one.." Her voice gets very small.

Aislinn North She sits down on the floor next to Cravendy and sifts through a few of the pages. She was right. All of them an unfinished list of things Wyda had wanted to do but never had the opportunity. Several of them remind her of the last conversation she had with Wyda. Where they had talked about what they would do after returning from the Red Argos job. Looking back it struck Aislinn that Wyda had to have some inkling. Some idea that she probably wasn't coming back. ...

Aislinn North Wordlessly, she lets the pages slip through her fingers into the bucket and glances over at Cravendy. The Seawolf is hunched over, as if afraid to even look at her. If she didn't already feel like a timebomb with all this aether business, Cravendy's look would have done it. "Hey." she says quietly, stopping short of nudging the woman's shoulder. "I like this idea. Can't say I've ever eaten a pineapple. Know where we can get one?"

Cravendy Hound blinks. Lin likes the idea? Though it wasn't outside the realm of possibility, Cravs had a habit of overthinking things until it felt like fantasy. She wipes her face with both her hands and tries to 'reset' herself. It works for the most part. She looks normal...if you ignore all the redness.

Cravendy Hound: "They're a rare find in Eastern La Noscea. Even seasoned botanists 'ave trouble locatin' them, so no ones sellin'. But maybe if we go lookin' ourselves, we'll be lucky?" Cravs shrugs.

Aislinn North nods thoughtfully. "Well," she glances over her shoulder back to library where she had been keeping an anxious, fruitless vigil. Pineapple hunting was clearly the better option by far. "No time like the present, aye? We could both use some time away from the house, in any event. We're due some leave time." she decided. "Let's grab some things and head out."

Cravendy Hound panics just slightly. Everything’s happening so fast, she didn’t expect this! And now?! She doesn’t know what to do with herself. Prepare? Right, right. Cravs entrusts the bucket of crumpled notes with the front desk worker and then just stands there, waiting. Oh wait, shoes? Check. She is /golden/.

(Cravendy Hound) what could even be 'pineappling equipment' XD ))

Aislinn North Aislinn, meanwhile, turns and heads back to her study. If she was heading out to hunt pineapples in La Noscea she certainly wasn't going in a casual dress and lacking the usual firearm. She returns a few ticks later, much better prepared for this sort of excursion and seemingly undaunted by Cravendy's sparse preparation. "Right, then. Ready?"

(Aislinn North) ((comfortable shoes? I think Cravs gots it!)) (Cravendy Hound) ehehhe lins coming prepared with GUN )) (Aislinn North) ((She never leaves home without it!)) (Aislinn North) ((THose pineapples could be dangerous!)) (Cravendy Hound) two extremes, I love it >:D )) (Cravendy Hound) *gruff protagonist voice* You can never be too prepared... ))

Cravendy Hound - Thank the twelve for aetheryte travel! Though the moment Cravs appears by the Costa del Sol crystal, she covers her face and quickly hands payment to the crystal's guard. Without letting anyone get a good look at her face, she makes a beeline to the cliffs waits for Lin in the brush.

(Aislinn North) arrives a moment later, a hand to her chest as though bracing for something. After a few beats she relaxes. Gods, that was beyond foolish. Looking around she just catches sight of a flash of red as Cravendy disappears into the brush. Shaken, Aislinn hurries to catch up. "In a real rush about these pineapples." she jests as she falls in step alongside Cravendy.

Cravendy Hound: “Let’s just say the locals ain’t a fan of me.” Cravs takes a look around, exuding the aura of a person who knows what they’re doing. Until she turns around, still just as confident, and says this. “Why do they call ‘em pineapples if they don’t look like pine trees? Or do they grow on somethin’ that looks like a pine tree?”

Cravendy Hound knows these three facts about Pineapples. They’re found in Eastern La Noscea (though she doesn’t know exactly where). They’re fruit. They’re yellow.

(Cravendy Hound) oops I guess she's talking about Pineapples the proper noun )) (Aislinn North) ((Pineapple the pineapple))

Aislinn North Glances back at Costa del Sol, imagining all the things Cravendy could have done to make her less than welcome. With Cravs temper, Aislinn can imagine a few. "Hmm...maybe because they're prickly up top?" she says, turning back to the Seawolf. "Maybe it's a derivation of 'spine apple' and just became 'pineapple' somewhere along the way." she looks out over the land. "But I'm just guessing. And they'd probably need soil. So I'm thinking the more inland, the better." ...

Aislinn North she nods and points up towards the direction of Wineport.

Aislinn North And just like that, the skies above open and a steady rain begins to fall. "Tch." Aislinn stares unimpressed up at the sky and then turns a flat look on Cravendy. "Every. Time." she observes. It seems she and Cravendy could do nothing without the rain following the Seawolf wherever she went.

(Aislinn North) ((Of course it's raining)) (Cravendy Hound) I can't remember the last time it wasn't raining when I came here )) (Aislinn North) ((Me either! I'm telling you! The game -knows-))

Cravendy Hound: "Augh, didn't ye 'ave to say it? Spine apple? Now I'm thinkin' of an apple made of spine meat...though that could be good in soup," Cravs grumbles. She gives it real thought. "Needin' soil doesn't exactly narrow down our search, but I'm always a fan of goin' to Wineport. Come on, this way."

Cravendy Hound heads north, in the direction of the ferry that must be crossed to get to Wineport. She makes idle chit chat as she walks. "Of course it's rainin'...Oi! Whoever's up there, aren't ye gettin' bored usin' the same weather over and over?"

Aislinn North As they walk, Aislinn keeps a steady eye on the ground, kicking aside the brush as they go. On the lookout for this elusive pineapple. "Sledding down a hill backwards." she suddenly says with a low burble of laughter. Clearly, her mind was still on what Cravendy had told her of Wyda's notes. "Because why sled down a hill the normal way when you could do something else. Something more." there's a fondness in her voice as she spoke.

Cravendy Hound: "Sounds dumb and dangerous. She 'ad 'er screws too loose..." Cravs lets out a low sigh. And yet that was one of the reasons why she was interested in doing these bucket list items, wasn't it? To learn how to let go after a lifetime of being on edge. "...but I...and maybe, we, are wound too tight. Need to find a middle ground."

Cravendy Hound observes the plain bush in front of her. Pineapple bush? She lifts its leaves, noses deep into the plant, then suddenly pulls back. BUGS? YUP. BUGS.

Aislinn North "Maybe there's good reason we're wound tight." Aislinn counters, without rancor, as though she's merely making an observation. She watches Cravendy, knowing now to steer clear of that particular kind of plant. She turns away and heads deeper into the brush. "But I'm not saying you're wrong. It's...exhausting sometimes." she admits quietly.

Aislinn North Leans down and pulls at the stout, sword leafed plant before her. The crown breaks from the root and a foul smell permeates the air. Definitely not a pineapple. She backs swiftly away and coughs.

Cravendy Hound 's frown deepens. The two of them were like two yangs without a yin to balance them out, and the fact that she understood the exhaustion Lin was talking about...well, she was tired of it. The sun is shining and danger is malms away - they deserved to relax once in a while. They did! But why was it so hard?

Cravendy Hound: "We'll feel better once we find that spineapple! COME ON." Cravs is determined to fight against her own nature and have a 'good time.'

Cravendy Hound doesn't know the first thing about plants though. She uproots what looks to be a mini-palm tree and holds it up to Lin. "What the 'ell is this? Can we eat it?"

Aislinn North laughs lowly as she doggedly continues her search. "I don't think Wyda considered the work in gathering a pineapple." she kneels down, rooting through the vegetation. "-That's- why we worked. One of us was wound tight, the other looser than a ribbon on the wind. We didn't try to be any other way. And together we balanced out to middle ground." She looks up as Cravs produces a small tree. "I think...well, technically yes. But I don't think it'd taste good."

Cravendy Hound: "Yeah...but it's okay. We can be uptight together. Like two 'ammers without any nails." Cravs smiles. Though she's determined to grow and free herself of her constant anxiety, she understands that no one changes overnight. It'll be a long journey.

Cravendy Hound notices a bug crawling from the uprooted tree onto her hand. Wordlessly, Cravs chucks the tree into the sky, where it disappears into the distance. WHOOSH.

(Cravendy Hound) LOL I wonder how these two will stumble onto one....so far they're hopeless ahah )) (Cravendy Hound) *stabs random tree* hmmm )) (Aislinn North) ((*holds up a rock* )) (Cravendy Hound) LOL pretty much )) (Cravendy Hound) at least they're getting some sun now :D )) (Aislinn North) ((And away from the fish)) (Cravendy Hound) LOL NOoo the fish ))

Aislinn North gaze flicks to the small tree in surprise as it goes sailing off. It's probably a good thing there aren't too many people around. Just to be sure, she pauses, listening for any yell of alarm or indignation. After a moment, she shrugs and goes back to wandering and searching. "What's with this fixation?" she asks as she moves along but then stops and looks at Cravendy over her shoulder with a dawning realization. "Twelve. You're wound up tight about being wound up tight." ...

Aislinn North a smile threading through her words.

Cravendy Hound: "What fixation. What." She claps her hands, brushing them free of dirt and anything else that might remain. "...Pff, I'm not uptight about nothin'. Now less talkin' and let's go find this goddamn fruit."

Cravendy Hound stomps ahead, slightly embarrassed by the exchange. "Is this the way to the docks? Seems like we keep climbin' up."

(Aislinn North) She merely shakes her head, a soft huff of amusement leaving her. But Lin knew when to leave well enough alone. "Docks are back that way." she calls out to Cravendy and jerks a thumb over her shoulder. "Let's see if we have better luck on the other side."

Cravendy Hound: "Ah right, right." She turns heel and dashes back in the direction Lin's pointing in. Stupid-stupid-stupid, how many times had she been here? How could she get lost? Cravs sighs...her mind was truly in the gutter.

Aislinn North Steps out of the ferry into the humid shade of the jungle. Almost immediately she can feel her shirt start to stick to her skin. Nevertheless she doggedly makes her way up the stairs. "Right then...gotta be better on this side. Pineapples like the humidity, right?" She really had no idea.

Aislinn North turns around in a slow circle at the bridge, taking in the three directions they could go. "What do you think?" she asks Cravendy and points out all the ways they could go.

Cravendy Hound always appreciates how fresh and floral the rainforest smells. On the ferry ride over, she dips her hand into the water and splashes some of it over her arms. And she would've tried to splash Lin if she hadn't left so quickly. Cravs releases water between her fingers and hurries up the stairs.

Cravendy Hound: "Uhhh, pineapples like...water. So." A pause. "Yeah."

Cravendy Hound: "But not as much as watermelon. Anyway! I've got a good feelin' about goin' south. Even 'eard that's where a cuttin' of bacchus grape was found, so who knows what else might be over yonder."

(Cravendy Hound) cravs: very few points in INT )) (Aislinn North) ((Aww come on! She knew about the Bacchus grape though! :D)) (Cravendy Hound) some points in WIS! :D )) (Aislinn North) ((hehe!))

Aislinn North Turns about and looks down the path to the south. It seemed as good a place to choose as any. She nods "That's as much of an endorsement as we need, I think." she says and starts off. "You ever wander out this way before? Can't say I've had a reason to see this part of the island. Suppose that's another good thing to come out of this pineapple hunt. Sightseeing."

Cravendy Hound: "Yeah, been 'ere afore. Not often, but sometimes...when we were moored out 'ere for a couple of suns. Mostly we'd go collect coconuts, wood, anythin' else that could come in 'andy for the long 'aul." She pauses a few steps onto the bridge to peer over the planks, holding precariously on the rope supports. "View's nice too."

Cravendy Hound glances over to Lin with a cheeky grin. "Ye scared of 'eights?"

Aislinn North "But not pineapples?" Lin's voice takes on a teasing lilt. She leans out, not quite as far as Cravendy, and looks below them at the lazy river far below. At the Seawolf's question she lets out a small snort. "Not really. Not anymore." she pauses, a flicker of some subdued emotion crossing her expression. There and then gone again. Smiling again, she continues. "Bertram used to climb....every thing when he got upset as a child. Walls. Buildings. Ren could never figure out where he had gone...

Aislinn North "I started to learn to look up. Then I learned to climb after him. Otherwise he'd be gone for suns." she looks up at Cravendy with a wry twist of her lips. "And I take it, from the way you're just hanging over the ropes there, you're not afraid of them either."

Cravendy Hound: "Never a pineapple. Though I was never lookin' for one so..." She shrugs. "Maybe we'll find one. Maybe we won't."

Cravendy Hound: "Where the 'ell would 'e climb to? Rooftops? And just for fun?" Cravs ponders a moment. Windy didn't strike her as the type to take a risk for the hell of it, but then again, he ran faster than a chocobo. A possible sign of madness.

Aislinn North "Well not with that attitude, we won't." she said, light and teasing. But next she nods. "Aye, rooftops. Parapets. Any place high above the noise. Likely still does it." she shakes her head as though trying to shake off a bad memory. She nods the rest of the way across the bridge. "The place they found that special grape over there? Or do you know?"

Cravendy Hound: "Ye don't think 'e loiters on 'eartwood's roof, do ye? I mean, that'll keep the pigeons from roostin' up there but it's a bit...odd." She turns to point down the bridge with a confident nod. "Aye, somewhere on the other side. But actually, I want to show ye somethin'. Stand in the center with me for a second."

Aislinn North Decides Cravendy's question is more rhetorical than anything. Mainly because she simply didn't want to answer. Instead she follows the Seawolf out the center of the bridge but halts suddenly. "Wait." she stares down at the slapdash haphazard collection of worn planks that was supposed to be a patch job of some sort. "Really?" she next throws Cravendy an incredulous look. And yet, as piecemeal as the patch seems to be, it *is* holding the Roegadyn's weight. "Nymeia's breath." ...

Aislinn North she mutters a few other choice words as she wraps a hand around the railing and edges her way out to Cravendy. "I said I wasn't scared of heights. I didn't say I was stupid."

(Aislinn North) ((This is a testament as to how much she trusts Cravendy. I have a feeling that's about to be tested. XD)) (Cravendy Hound) oh no xD ))

Cravendy Hound: "Well, since yer not scared of 'eights and all...HAH!" Without warning, she gives the ropes a violent shake, sending a turbulent vibration throughout the bridge's deck. The motion is magnified at the center, which, coincidentally, is also the most shoddily built part of the bridge. Planks of wood twist at the nail; a few even teeter off and fall into the ravine!

Cravendy Hound: "AAAaAhaHAhAAaaa!" Cravs howls with a yell that's most parts laughter. She hangs on for dear life and glances over to catch Lin's reaction.

Aislinn North Like a cat suddenly faced with the prospect of falling into water, Aislinn all but attaches herself to the shaking ropes as if they were literal lifelines. "Seven burning hells, Cravendy!" she yells over the Seawolf's howls of laughter. Several obscenities follow. The litany goes on but as the bridge sways and creaks, she hears herself and the ridiculousness of it all. A laugh creeps into her voice even as she keeps shouting. ...

Aislinn North "And Nymeia so help me, if I die, I'm haunting you until the end of your days. Forever!" But they both know by now it's an idle threat. The patch job is clearly holding.

Cravendy Hound has to catch her breath in between cackling. As the bridge steadily stabilizes, she puts a hand on Lin's shoulder to help the other woman find her balance. "Bloody 'ells, the...the look on yer face at first, pffhahah! Like ye were gonna bloody murder me, ye were!"

Cravendy Hound: "Hehe, it's. It's somethin' the locals do. Why d'ye think there are so many planks at the center? People've been chasin' stupid fun since the dawn of this bridge." She stomps on the planks for good measure.

Aislinn North Breathless, Aislinn cautiously unwraps her arms from around the ropes and stops hugging the side. "Not gonna lie, the idea may have crossed my mind." she huffed at the Seawolf. But there's a look of exhiliration in the depths of her eye. "And for some poor fools the bridge *did* crack" she waves a hand at the collection of worn planks with one hand as the other rubs absently at her chest. She's silent a moment and then "Gods above, Cravendy!" ...

Aislinn North she yells all over again but this time with the laughter that comes with the relief of being alive.

Cravendy Hound: "Don't worry, if ye fell I'd catch ye. And it wouldn't be the first time it 'appened." She pats Lin twice on the shoulder and then turns to finally (thank god) FINALLY step onto the other side.

Aislinn North pauses at Cravendy's words and peers down to the long drop below. She hurries to catch up, glad to once again be on solid ground. "What do you mean it wouldn't be the *first* time?!"

(Cravendy Hound) kdjfls at some point these two dorks have got to find a pineapple xD )) (Aislinn North) ((The pineapple is a metaphor xD They're destined to never find it.))

Cravendy Hound: "People 'ave fell! And I caught most of 'em. Cept that one time...Hm...Don't worry. There's water at the bottom anyway." Cravs waves off Lin's questioning.

Aislinn North narrows her eyes, almost sure Cravendy was pulling her leg

Cravendy Hound: "They lived! It was fine!" Cravs says with a laugh. "Nothin' a little conjury can't fix."

(Cravendy Hound) kjdflsj dahahah )) (Cravendy Hound) the true treasure was the friends we made on the way )) (Aislinn North) ((*rainbows*)) (Cravendy Hound) but for my own IRL love of pineapples, I do hope they find one....and yet. And yet, why not roll? Why not roll )) (Cravendy Hound) Random! 906 (Cravendy Hound) ohhh that's actually pretty good. sometimes I hope for the low rolls because I'm just like that xD ))

Aislinn North "Hmm" a doubtful noise from the back of her throat. "Just makes me glad to be in one piece." she turns to survey the land again. "This pineapple...almost cost me my life." she says, purposefully melodramatic

(Aislinn North) ((That's a good roll!)) (Aislinn North) Random! 97 (Aislinn North) ((That....is a garbage roll)) (Cravendy Hound) ahhahah the two sides of the spectrum )) (Cravendy Hound) we can take the middle ground - there is pineapple, but not served on a silver platter...? XD )) (Aislinn North) ((Schrodinger's pineapple.))

Cravendy Hound: "Imagine gettin' that written on yer gravestone. Died lookin' for pineapple." Cravs chuckles, but then...looks like she's seriously considering her own question. "Ye know, it's not the worst way to bite the bullet."

Aislinn North now that her breathing has *almost* returned to normal, she begins poking at vegetation again. "Falling to your death?" she asks, just to be sure that's what Cravendy is indeed talking about. "I suppose...I mean, wouldn't be my *choice* but there are definitely worse ways to go."

Cravendy Hound: "If ye could choose, 'ow would ye 'ave it? I think most would answer slippin' away from old age, surrounded by loved ones. But I...I can't see myself fadin' away like that. If I go defendin' something worthwhile, that'll be good enough."

Cravendy Hound - A particularly honey-sweet scent cuts through the general musk of the rainforest. The good news is that the source is a pineapple! And the bad news is that said pineapple is growing out from the side of the cliff, out of reach.

Aislinn North like some sort of morbid vertigo, Aislinn can't help picturing it. "It'd be quick, at least. Smack. Done." she claps her hands for emphasis. She considers Cravendy's question. "Suppose if it's not going to be quiet like, in my bed, defending someone I cared about wouldn't be half bad. Quick would still be nice." she frowns a bit as she eyes the pineapple high above them. ...

Aislinn North "Seriously? They grow out of the cliffsides?" With a sigh she gauges the height and then eyes Cravendy, then herself. "Well...think if you lifted me, we could get that?

Cravendy Hound is just as morbid. "I agree. Quick and clean, if possible." She then peers up at the pineapple with a sigh. She was learning that when it came to death and pineapples, beggars can't be choosers.

Cravendy Hound: "Ye really think? Maybe ye got on me, and then I jumped and ye jumped at the same time for a bit of extra 'eight...ehh. That's a long shot too."

Aislinn North laughs low, shaking her head. "That's a bit too much coordination." she starts to look for a foothold in the cliffside. "Right. Well, then climbing is probably the best bet. See? All that scurrying up buildings is coming in handy." she finds a grip in the rock and begins to climb upwards.

Cravendy Hound is taken aback by how quick Lin is to hit the rocks and begin her ascent. She shakes her shock away and nods, equally determined to climb for the pineapple...and get to it, first. She doesn't say anything, doesn't make a bet. Just silently starts to climb without a word.

(Cravendy Hound) shall we have one final roll? xD )) (Aislinn North) ((Most definitely!)) (Aislinn North) Random! 490 (Cravendy Hound) Random! 943 (Aislinn North) ((NIce!)) (Cravendy Hound) my rolls are strangely??? on fire )) (Cravendy Hound) quit flexing cravs! )) (Aislinn North) ((But that just means we'll finally get that pineapple!))

Aislinn North Climbing rugged rockface wasn't quite the same as climbing brick and mortar. Aislinn's progress is steady but slow. She's perhaps a bit too cautious, the talk before of falling down the gully may or may not have had an effect on her.

Cravendy Hound puts in extra effort and, through some miracle, none of the rockholds crumble away as she -powers- her way to the top. She makes it a few seconds before Lin and, with a triumphant yell, grabs the pineapple with her hand and tears it from its stalk. "Ach! This shite's spiny as all 'ell!"

Aislinn North glances up and laughs as Cravendy takes hold of the pineapple and immediately curses it out. "One pineapple. Obtained!" she starts to work her way back down. "Just be careful on the way down, aye?"

Cravendy Hound now has to climb down while holding a pineapple. She hadn't thought this far. ".......Maybe when ye get down, ye can catch it?"

Aislinn North nods and then realizes Cravendy wouldn't have seen her gesture of agreement. "Aye." she calls up. A few moments later she drops to the jungle floor and lets go a sigh. Brushing her hands off on her pants, she turns her head up to Cravendy. "Alright, drop it down!" she yells, holding her hands out at the ready.

Cravendy Hound: "Or I can drop down. Probably safe from this 'eight, right?" Cravs looks down. It felt like a 50/50 chance of going terribly, the worst case scenario being a sprained ankle and the near fatal blow to her pride if/when people asked how she got it.

Cravendy Hound won't risk it. She hucks the pineapple down to Lin.

Aislinn North "No!" she calls out with urgency but it seems Cravendy also thought better of that plan. Aislinn hurries to get beneath the pineapple and catches the spiny fruit with a grunt. "Guh. You were serious about the spines." she shakes one hand out and then the other, glad for her gloves. "I really hope this tastes good."

Cravendy Hound climbs down, huffing and puffing. So much work for a pineapple. "Feels like the backside of a cactaur...but 'opefully it tastes as sweet as it smells."

Aislinn North nods and hands the pineapple back to Cravendy as she hits solid ground. It's only right, seeing as how the Seawolf managed to reach it first. "Right! Now, let's head out of here and get to eating this. Let's head to the Mists. We've earned a bit of relaxation, I think." she smiles a broad, unhooked smile up at Cravendy.

Cravendy Hound: "Ye think it could regrow like 'ow a carrot can grow from a carrot top? Since we put in all this effort, it feels like a waste to -just- eat it." Cravs says with a tired sigh. "But aye, let's 'ead back. Can ask Haila about that later."

Aislinn North nods in agreement as she turns back the way the came. She pauses. "No shaking the bridge." she says turning to point accusingly at Cravendy.

Cravendy Hound: "I won't." And then, once Lin's back is turned, she mutters something under her breath through a grin. "Maybe."

#ff14 rp logs #aislinn north #Cravendy Hound #Two pineapple parts mashed into one #literal hours spent writing about them searching #they found one in the end though!#Bucket List

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years

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@ad1thi submitted: okay so this next one includes a link - hence submission instead of an ask.

insp by this link(and honestly this whole blog basically): buckytony NSFW AU where Tony is an escort for hire and Bucky's an extremely rich man who's looking for some company. loosely a Pretty Woman AU but instead of picking Tony up off the street, he hires Tony off his exclusive website (whether or not you want to factor in the public appearances aspect of the film is up to you but i was thinking more of a strictly sexual relationship that develops over time) (sort of like a sugar daddy AU)

so the link doesn’t work anymore (i think the blog might have been shadow banned) but i still think this will work for you :) check below the cut for the rest of the story (cause it got super long) and for the bingo details for @starkbucksbingo

also on ao3 here

There’s only one bed in the room when Tony gets inside. He pauses, looking warily at the bed like it’s going to attack him. It’s nice, huge, possibly bigger than the entire bedroom in Tony’s last apartment. He bets it has expensive sheets, the kind that are always slippery and you’re afraid to get messy on them. Bucky always pays for rooms with expensive sheets. Yeah, it’s not that there’s really a problem with the bed per se; it’s just that—

Well, one bed means sex.

One bed means sex and two means Bucky needs an escort to whatever event he’s attending and when Bucky had offered to fly him all the way out to fucking Paris for the weekend, he’d just kind of assumed that this was supposed to be an event like a conference or something.

He glances down at his suitcase. He prepares for everything of course, so when he’d logged in to the agency’s website a few days ago to see that his weekend had been blocked, he had made sure to grab not just a couple suits but also some of his best lingerie and Bucky’s favorite toys. Security must have had a field day when they scanned his luggage at the airport. He chuckles, imagining the priceless looks on their faces, and gets to work.

The bathroom is his first stop. Tony is already shaved and waxed, just the way his clients prefer, on the offset chance that Bucky would already be in the room by the time he arrived even though he’d already been told that Bucky wouldn’t be there until dinner, but he smells like airplane and stale peanuts and possibly a little bit like the old man sitting next to him in first class who had drunk his weight in liquor by the time the plane landed.

The bathtub is large enough for at least five people to comfortably sit and the tap has a temperature setting that he sets to just barely on the too much side of hot. He pours in a little lavender oil and wanders back out into the bedroom while he waits for the bath to fill.

Suits go hanging up in the closet. Lingerie goes in one drawer and toys go in the one below it, organized by type and then by color. He doesn’t have anything casual other than loungewear because Bucky’s never once taken him anywhere casual and usually he takes him to places that will provide a suit if you don’t show up wearing one.

He goes back into the bathroom, cleans himself up, spends a little bit extra time in the bath relaxing—even if Bucky pays him well enough to afford a new, nicer apartment and first class plane tickets, he still doesn’t make enough to afford a bathtub like this—and climbs out before he gets pruney.

Tony has a couple clients that prefer to see him completely dolled up—makeup, matching lingerie sets, all of it. Bucky, on the other hand, prefers something a little simpler so after he’s dry, Tony pulls on ice blue lace panties, a pair of sheer stockings—no garter, as per Bucky’s instructions so he’ll need to be sure to smooth them out before Bucky arrives—and a small black leather collar. He’ll never admit it but the collar is his favorite part. Bucky, in a fit of possessiveness, had bought it for him after finding out that Tony’s other collars had all been used before by his other clients.

Tony still remembers the first time Bucky had put it on him, the way he’d slid a finger under the collar to check how tight it was, how his eyes had gone dark and wanting before he purred, “Now you look like you’re mine,” and used his grip on the collar to tug Tony into a demanding kiss.

He shivers, thinking about it, and runs a thoughtful finger around the edge of the collar. There have been…times throughout the months they’ve been doing this where he’s wondered if Bucky would want to make this a more permanent arrangement, not quite a kept boy but something rather more intimate. Of course, he’d still need to make a living somehow since Howard has made sure he’s not allowed to use the Stark name but…he wouldn’t exactly object to being Bucky’s more often than once a month.

His watch—another gift from Bucky—beeps at him from where he’s laid it on the dresser and he checks it. Still another few hours to go before Bucky will be back but he should probably get a move on.

He places an order for room service for later that night, calls up for an expensive bottle of champagne that he knows Bucky likes though he can’t stand the taste himself. While he waits, he puts on a pale pink robe and stretches out across the giant bed to doze off the little bit of jet lag he has, which has the added benefit of mussing the sheets just enough to catch Bucky’s attention.

There’s a knock on the door, waking him from his nap, and he greets the astonished delivery boy, who can’t take his eyes off of him, with a cheeky wink and a tantalizing glimpse of the curve of his ass peeking out from the hem of the robe as he turns away.

The champagne goes in an ice bucket to chill and Tony checks the time again before deciding to change into his loungewear. He knows that Bucky likes the silk robe but he likes watching Tony strip for him more and besides, they’ve got all weekend for the robe. There’s only one bed in the room; he’ll be lucky if Bucky lets him up from it at all, let alone into actual clothes.

There’s still an hour or so before Bucky comes and he thinks about going out on the balcony but it looks like there might be a storm coming in. He scowls and drags a chair over to the balcony doors, deciding that he can at least look out over the city, even if he can’t be outside. He reads for a bit until the storm arrives and it gets too dark to read by the natural light and then he gets up to turn on the lamps, which is of course when Bucky walks through the door.

Tony pauses by the bedside lamp, taking in Bucky’s wet hair and the way he’s shaking raindrops off his coat. “You could take a shower first,” he suggests.

“Hmm,” Bucky hums, dragging his gaze slowly over Tony’s body. It’s not even like he’s in anything sexy, just sweatpants and an oversized sweater and his stockinged feet but Bucky’s eyes go dark anyway. It’s gratifying that Bucky gets that choked expression on his face even when Tony is fully dressed and maybe that’s why he crosses the room instead of waiting for Bucky to come to him. Maybe that’s why he slides his hands up Bucky’s wet shirt to hook around his neck and bring him down for a kiss.

Bucky’s hands flutter at his side before he brings them to settle on Tony’s waist. “Don’t want to get you wet,” he mumbles into the kiss.

Tony licks kittenishly at the seam of his lips, teasing them open so he can slide his tongue inside. He curls his tongue around Bucky’s once before pulling back just enough to say, “Does it look like I care about that?”

“No,” Bucky admits and Tony smiles but then Bucky sets him a little bit apart from him. “But I don’t want to do it anyway. Let me get cleaned up, kitten, and we’ll see about dinner, yeah?”

Tony’s a little disappointed; he’d thought that kiss was building up to something, but he gamely smiles and says, “Sure thing, Bucky Babe.”

Bucky brushes another kiss over his forehead, tugs just enough at the collar to get Tony to gasp, and then ducks into the bathroom. Tony calls the concierge to bring up their dinner as he hears the shower turn on. He putters around the suite, making sure that the lighting is romantic, doublechecking that the balcony doors are closed, and pulling the champagne out of the ice bucket so it has time to warm up a little. By the time their meal has arrived, fragrant and steaming hot, Bucky is stepping out of the shower so Tony goes over to the bathroom to let him know their food is ready.

His gaze lingers on Bucky’s naked body, always incredible. Bucky takes care of himself and that shows in his muscular arms and toned stomach that always get Tony a little hot under the belt. Bucky is toweling off his hair when Tony opens the door and he grins at the mirror at the way Tony falters when he sees him.

“Something I can do for you, kitten?” he asks.

Tony shakes himself out of his reverie, pulling his eyes back to Bucky’s face. “Wanted to tell you food’s here.”

“What did you get for us this time?”

“Chicken and asparagus.”

“No steak?”

“I’m watching your health.”

Bucky drops the towel on the counter and stalks toward him, snagging him around the waist for a quick kiss before he continues on in to the bedroom. He tugs on a pair of sweatpants, much nicer than Tony’s own, but forgoes the shirt in favor of reaching for the bottle of champagne to pour it into two glasses.

Tony follows him and dishes up their plates as Bucky sets the glasses out, moving around him in a well-practiced dance they’ve done many times before. Tony is a good escort, he knows he is, and that means he knows what to do for each client, not that he’s had many since taking Bucky on. Hammer wants him smiling vapidly and singing his praises to anyone who’ll listen at one of his galas, Stone wants him wearing a plug the size of his fist before he even shows up at his penthouse, and Bucky wants him to take care of their food while he handles the drinks.

Dinner is a quick affair, filled with light, easy conversation about Bucky’s conference in Paris and how Tony’s flight had been. He doesn’t bother asking what Bucky’s expectations for the weekend are; Bucky will tell him eventually and—he glances toward the bedroom where he can see one of the bedposts on the bed—he already has a pretty good idea.

“So doll,” Bucky says eventually, putting his napkin down. Tony has already finished eating and has been taking small sips of champagne for the last ten minutes. “I was here for this conference and how I’ve got this incredible view that I don’t even get to look at that much and I was thinking about how nice it would be to share it with someone. And then I checked your website and wouldn’t you know it, you’re free this weekend.”

“So you hired me to stare at the view while you’re busy at a conference,” Tony deadpans.

Bucky throws him a fondly annoyed look, a feeling that Tony seems to inspire in a lot of people. “I hired you to stare at the view with me because my conference ended today.”

Oh.

He thinks again about that possessive streak of Bucky’s, the way he just casually buys him things because he knew Tony would like them and “Why wouldn’t I want to spend the money on you, kitten?” Maybe, he thinks to himself, just maybe.

“Well then,” he says lightly, trying to hide the way his chest feels hot at the very thought of Bucky making him his, “if you’re going to spend all that money just to fly me out here.”

“Worth every penny,” Bucky swears. His grey eyes are going dark again as they drop to the neckline of Tony’s sweater, his voice a low growl when he says, “Take it off for me.”

Tony shivers. So they’ve reached that part of the night then. He stands, hands going for the hem of his sweater. He toys with the hem for a moment before slowly drawing it up his body and over his head, reaching back behind his neck to make sure that the fabric doesn’t catch on the buckle of his collar.

“That’s it, Tony, baby,” Bucky croons as Tony drops his hands to the waistband of his pants. “All of it.”

Tony keeps his gaze fixed on Bucky’s as he shimmies the pants down off his hips and to the floor, stepping out of them when they puddle around his feet. Bucky catches sight of the stockings and he groans lowly, making Tony bite back a smile. He’s never worn the stockings before but he had thought Bucky would like them. He seems to really like Tony in lacy things.

“Come here,” Bucky urges him, reaching for his hips. “Let me see you.”

And Tony goes. He stands in between Bucky’s spread legs, letting him run his hands up and down the stockings, the material catching on his legs and lighting up his sensitive skin. Bucky ducks his head to run his tongue along the line of Tony’s panties. He catches them between his teeth and tugs on them, pulling them away from Tony’s body just an inch.

“I like these. Did I buy them for you?”

“Mmhmm,” Tony says breathily. He runs his hand through Bucky’s hair, marveling again at how soft it is. Bucky’s hair is like silk. He wants to spend all day running his fingers through it, see if he could make Bucky make that purring sound he sometimes makes when he’s content.

“Pretty color,” Bucky mutters and pulls the panties down over his hips enough that he can breathe warm air over Tony’s dick, which immediately perks up like it knows it’s going to get some attention (not that that’s a shock; he’s been half-hard since Bucky walked into the room). “Pretty cock. Pretty Tony.”

Tony moans at the compliment, sinking into Bucky’s lap when he’s tugged down and straddling him. “Bucky—please kiss me.”

And Bucky does, hard and biting and demanding the way only he does. Tony’s had clients who like to kiss him before—not many but some—and not a single one of them has ever kissed him like Bucky does. Bucky kisses him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do and it’s the only thing he’ll ever want to do, like he’s oxygen and Bucky is suffocating. He kisses him like—like he loves him, only Tony doesn’t let himself think about that too much.

And Bucky tells him sweet things in between kisses, tells him that he’s beautiful as Tony winds his hands in his hair, tells him that he’s the prettiest thing Bucky’s ever taken to his bed as he mouths wet kisses down Tony’s neck, tells him that he’s being so good for him as he puts his mouth over Tony’s nipple and sucks.

Tony shouts, hands tightening in Bucky’s hair, rocking his hips into Bucky’s. Bucky sucks again, mouth pulling hard on Tony’s chest, and then he bites and Tony thinks he should be used to this but he doesn’t know how he could ever get used to something like this.

“Being awfully loud there, kitten,” Bucky murmurs.

“Like you didn’t pay for the quietest room there is,” Tony quips back, brain still working even through the miracle that is Bucky’s finger twisting his other nipple.

Bucky scoffs dismissively and slides two of his fingers inside Tony’s mouth, shoving them to the back where he nearly gags on them before he gets with the program and sucks.

“That’s better,” Bucky says and Tony rolls his eyes because he knows that Bucky likes it when he talks. “Hey, no sass out of you.” He taps Tony’s lips sharply before driving his fingers in again. Tony flicks his tongue between Bucky’s fingers, twisting and curling around them to get them as wet as possible so that when Bucky finally removes them from his mouth, they’re practically dripping. He slips wet fingers inside Tony’s panties and parts his cheeks to slide a finger inside his hole, rolling the tip of his pointer finger around his rim as it loosens

Tony uses his grip on Bucky’s hair to direct him back to his mouth and he’s so glad that Bucky lets him because he knows that he’s not the strong one in this relationship. He knows that Bucky owns some kind of tech company but he has no idea what else Bucky does—because there must be something else for him to be so strong.

“Bucky,” he whispers into his mouth, trying to shift back further on Bucky’s finger and completely fails to do so.

“Shh, kitten,” Bucky says. “Let me make you feel good.”

And he raises Tony up on his knees just with the grip he has on Tony’s hip so he can slide his panties off. Tony raises one leg to slide it off but Bucky kisses him again before he can kick the panties off completely so they dangle from his ankle, a flag of his personal surrender. He reaches for something on the table that Tony hadn’t noticed before and when he comes back, his lube-wet fingers slide in slowly, two at a time because Bucky’s never gone the easy route if he can help it.

Tony groans, thrusting back on his fingers as they press into his prostate. Bucky just smiles and whispers into his ear, “Gripping me so tight, babe. Gonna feel so good on my cock.”

“I always feel good on your cock,” Tony snarks because he is a gift and Bucky had better not forget that.

Bucky chuckles and drives his fingers in harder, shoving them into Tony’s body to make space for his cock. “That’s true. Hold onto me.”

Tony barely manages to grab his shoulders before Bucky lets go of his hips to dig into his pocket. He wants to watch, wants to know what Bucky’s looking for, but the fingers of his other hand are still curling in Tony’s body and he can’t help but close his eyes as his head drops back and he whines.

He hears a soft clink and then the collar suddenly gets heavier. A leash. Bucky’s put a leash on him. That’s—oh that’s hot.

Bucky yanks on the leash, pulling his head back to face him and pairing it with a vicious twist of his fingers in Tony’s hole, and Tony cries out again. “Bucky, please,” he begs. “Please fuck me, please, just—”

“I’ve gotcha,” Bucky says. He pulls his fingers out and sharply slaps Tony’s ass once. “Get up.”

Tony thinks about whining, thinks about asking why he has to get up when his legs feel so wobbly, he’s sure he’ll collapse if he tries to stand. Then Bucky slaps his ass again, harder this time, and he squeals before jumping up. He can’t go far. Bucky still has a grip on the leash, wrapped around his hand, and he uses it to make sure Tony goes only as far as he wants him. With one hand, Bucky slides his sweatpants down, just enough to lift his dick out.

Tony’s breath catches in his throat. In his line of work, he doesn’t see many beautiful cocks but Bucky’s—Bucky’s is a work of art: long and thick and a dark olive that flushes as he strokes it. There’s a drop of precum beading up from the tip of his cut cock that Tony wants to get his mouth on and lick up.

“Come here,” Bucky orders. Tony straddles him, Bucky’s right hand immediately going back to his hip like it belongs there, the leash rubbing against his oversensitive skin. His left hand strokes up and down his cock, lubing himself up, letting out tiny groans. Tony wants to turn around and watch but the blissed expression on Bucky’s face is almost as good. He leans up as best as he can to kiss the little furrow between Bucky’s brows and when he pulls away, Bucky is watching him with this wondrous, dazed look in his eyes.

“How are you real, kitten?” Bucky murmurs. It doesn’t sound like he’s expecting an answer so Tony just kisses him again as Bucky pulls his hand away from his cock to hold his cheeks open as he positions Tony.

He’s lowered slowly—oh so slowly—until Bucky’s thick cock is splitting him open. He keens, unable to toss his head back the way he wants because of Bucky’s grip on the leash, breaking off into a soft “Oh!” as he settles Tony in his lap, all of his cock tucked away inside Tony’s body. He always thinks that Bucky is too big for him, that this time he won’t fit, but no—Bucky is just as big as he needs to be, Tony is just as open as he needs to be but with his cheeks settled against Bucky’s thighs, mouth open and panting, Bucky feels bigger than ever.

His fat head is pressed against Tony’s prostate, dragging against the sensitive nerves, and Tony whimpers as every little move lights him up from the inside out. His cock is drooling against Bucky’s stomach, smearing wet against his toned abs.

“Feel good?” Bucky hisses into his ear. Tony nods desperately. He does, he feels amazing. “Cause you sure feel good around me, squeezing me so tight.”

He starts to drag Tony up and Tony cries out, clenching down in a futile attempt to keep Bucky inside him. Bucky moans and drops him again, slamming into his prostate.

“Bucky!”

“If you don’t want me to drop you, you shouldn’t do things like that,” Bucky chuckles.

“If you don’t want me to do things like that,” Tony shoots back at him, “you shouldn’t try to pull out.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “No? What do you want me to do, kitten? Thought you wanted to be fucked.”

“You telling me you can’t figure out a way to fuck me like this?”

It’s a challenge, one that he knows Bucky will rise to. He always does. So he sits there, primly perched on his lap with Bucky’s cock hard as steel inside him as he waits for him to decide what to do. And when he thinks Bucky has almost figured it out, he squirms, just a little, as much as he can with the leash still gripping him tight.

“So that’s what you want, is it,” Bucky murmurs, eyes lighting up. His hand slides around to the small of Tony’s back, pressing him down as he grinds up. “Not a thrust but—” His hips twist and his cock jerks and Tony moans. “Yeah, that’s it, baby.”

He does it again and again and Tony swears he can feel Bucky’s cock in his fucking throat, he’s so deep inside him. Bucky croons to him, soft words about how good Tony looks writhing on his cock, challenging him to come untouched. Tony thinks he could do it; he’s never managed it before but he wants so badly to be perfect for Bucky that he thinks he can do it this time. Heat is coiling in the base of his stomach, winding him tighter like a coiled spring.

“Bucky,” he gasps. “Bucky—oh—please.”

“Please what?”

He doesn’t even know.

“Just—ah—please!”

And Bucky smirks at him, that filthy, devil-may-care smirk that promises bad things for Tony’s future, before bending Tony back over his arm. His cock presses in new ways inside him and he wails—and that’s when Bucky fits his teeth around Tony’s nipple and pulls—and Tony comes screaming, cock pulsing as he shoots white ropes up Bucky’s chest.

Bucky jerks him upright then, grinds into him twice more, and then comes, spilling deep inside his body. He’s the only one of Tony’s clients that he lets fuck him without a condom and it’s entirely because he thinks he might actually die if he couldn’t have this feeling of Bucky filling him. And maybe that’s melodramatic but Tony’s never been accused of being stoic.

“Arms up, kitten,” Bucky pants into his hair, pressing little, urgent kisses against his damp curls. They’re both sweat-soaked, definitely going to need a bath or at least a washcloth, but when Tony wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, he’s carried not to the bathroom but to the bed where Bucky sets him down gently before sliding out of him.

Tony watches through half-closed eyes as Bucky walks naked as the day he was born back through the suite and into the bathroom, emerging clean and with a washcloth for Tony. He’s wiped down and rolled onto his side for Bucky to cuddle up behind.

Bucky pets his rim gently, soothingly. “May I?” he asks quietly.

He knows what Bucky is asking. They’ve done it before and always it brings a little thrill to Tony’s mind. He nods sleepily and waits until Bucky’s cock has slid back into its place inside him. Sometimes, he thinks that Bucky’s cock fits so well inside his hole that he must have carved out a permanent place for himself. Oh sure, he tells himself with a little snort, because that’s romantic.

Bucky’s arm wraps around his waist to pull him even tighter into his body, his nose burrowing into Tony’s throat. Tony reaches down to link his fingers through Bucky’s, humming contentedly.

“Tell me about your day?” he asks quietly.

Bucky presses a swift kiss to his nape and then starts to tell him about the worst speaker he’s ever heard at one of these things. It sounds funny but Tony’s exhausted and since he knows that Bucky doesn’t mind if he dozes, he drifts off to sleep, lulled by the sound of Bucky’s voice.

Title: Begging for More Collaborator Name: iam93percentstardust Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25914820 Square Filled: O4 - Only One Bed Ship/Main Pairing: Winteriron Rating: E Major Tags & Triggers: Sex work; explicit sexual content Word Count: 4.3k

#alle writes #alle answers #nsfk #winteriron #if you like please consider reblogging #ad1thi #submission

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years

Text

MerMay 2021 Day Seventeen Buried Memories

Thunk!

“Shit!” Marvin backed up, rubbing his head where he’d hit it on the stone shelf above. “Right...there’s a thing there.”

The storage room was full of shelves and cabinets, each one crammed with various magical materials. Honestly, the whole place was practically bursting. So, Marvin had taken it upon himself to do some tidying up. He wasn’t sure if he could throw any of it away, since magical items were hard to come by, but he could organize it. He’d been working on this for a few weeks now. It was slow-going, partly because he kept putting off a lot of the worst messes, and partly because if he found something cool he’d stop what he was doing to try it out, and then oops, the whole day was gone.

But now there was a purpose. Chase had let the rest of the group know that there was a...situation with Jack, involving some humans showing up and poking their noses into things. So they decided they needed to wake up Jack sooner rather than later. And as of right now, the only method they thought to try was getting Anti to use the siren stone to wake him up.

The problem there—other than having to rely on the merm who’d tried to kill them all—was that after they’d recovered the siren stone, Marvin had put it somewhere in the storage and then immediately forgotten about it.

He’d tried asking Jameson if he’d seen the stone, but Jameson had no clue. The moment Jameson put something down and it left his line of sight, it completely disappeared. Marvin understood; he had the same problem, and he thought Jackie did, too. But now that was really coming back to bite them, because Marvin had been looking through the storage all day and couldn’t find the siren stone.

Marvin made a frustrated noise, settling back to glare at the shelves of the storage room. “This is the world telling me to organize better, isn’t it?” he said to no one in particular. “I have a system! I just...don’t always use it. At least everything’s labeled.”

Taking a deep breath, he plunged back into the mess. They needed it soon. He was on a deadline here. Organizing the storage could wait for a bit, right now he just needed to pay attention to all the round rocks he could see, maybe he could pick the stone out that way.

After a while, he ended up with a pile of vaguely spherical shaped objects in the middle of the storage room floor, each one being not the siren stone. Most of them were old power stones that couldn’t hold magic anymore. Why did he hold onto those? If he couldn’t recharge them, they were basically only useful for holding down loose notes. A few were highly specialized power stones, meant for specific kinds of magic. And some were half-finished power stones that he never completed. Now that he was thinking about it, mages tended to acquire huge amounts of various power stones.

Marvin poked his head into a cabinet in the corner of the storage. There were a lot of round rocks in here. Maybe one of these? He reached in and grabbed one in the back, pulling it out towards the light. No, this wasn’t the siren stone. That was a lot bigger. This one could fit in a single hand. And the symbols on it were drawn, rather than carved, and had rubbed off in places. Those that hadn’t were poorly made, with crooked lines and irregular curves. What, did a child make thi—

Oh. Maybe a child had made this.

Eyes wide, Marvin took the old power stone over to the entrance, to examine it in more light. Yes, now he recognized it. This was the first power stone he ever made. Or, well, the first one that had managed to hold a charge. He could remember his teacher explaining the history and process behind making power stones...

The magic is inside of you, Aribelle had said. You just need a tool to use it. Hold a power stone in your hands and pour your energy into it. The bigger the stone, the more it will store. Like putting kelp in a bucket.

Wow...he had whispered. And the magic’ll stay in there forever?

Yes, exactly. But you can only store magic in a power stone made by you. Otherwise, it’s like trying to open a locked box without having the key.

I thought it was a bucket.

Okay, it’s a bucket with a lid, and the lid is locked. Only you have the key. Understand?

Uh-huh.

Of course, buckets get old and worn down, and eventually anything you put in it will start to leak out, and after a long time it won’t be able to hold anything anymore. Power stones are the same. Make sure to make the symbols carefully, neater ones mean it’ll last longer.

It had been a while since he’d last seen Aribelle. He sent her messages, of course. At least once per month. But maybe he should go upstream to visit her, and Evander and Senan. The three of them were basically his parents, after all. Oh! Maybe he should take Jameson up to see them, once he was more comfortable in areas close to humans. They’d be so happy to meet him.

Marvin decided to take the old power stone into the house, so he could remember to do that. And maybe he’d remember to come back and clean up that corner cabinet. He was about to head out when he noticed something on a shelf right by the door. Something...

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The siren stone was right there. Of course, it was right in the front, in plain view, this whole time. It made sense, actually, he probably put it close by thinking they’d need it soon. And then months passed and it faded into the background. God damn it.

Muttering to himself, Marvin picked up the siren stone, which still didn’t light up in his hands, and headed back towards the house. Well, at least that was done with.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticeye au #septic egos #marvin the magnificent #brigid writes fanfiction #mermay snippets

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

Note

Prompt 10 // Dialogue6 with Nathan from Misfits since the last one was so good? This could be scary&ever so slightly steamy !

A/N: Aw, you’re so sweet darling. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. This didn’t Halloween...but it’s pretty intense/scary? I hope it satisfies. Word Count: 3487 Content Warnings: fire, near death experiences, implied death, Major Character Death (temporary), panic attack, references to Misfits S2

“Beth is throwing a big party this weekend at her doctor boyfriend’s beach house,” Alisha said nonchalantly while you and she, plus Kelly and Nicki, were out to brunch. “Maybe we should all go?”

“Wot? The four of us at some fancy bloke’s party?” Kelly asked, gesturing with her burrito.

“Well, and the guys…” Alisha shrugged. “I thought it would be fun. It’s the first time we can go wherever and not have to worry about getting busted for curfew.”

“What is the point of going to a beach house in October?” Nicki asked. “It’s too cold for swimming.”

“I don’t know! To be at a party and have fun?” Alisha snapped, volume raising enough to catch the attention of the next table over. “If you don’t want to come, don’t.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” you piped up. “They’ll probably do a bonfire, and if it’s a party thrown by rich people the booze will be quality. What have we got to lose?”

Alisha smiled at you gratefully and nodded. “See, Y/N knows. Come on, it’ll be a great time.”

By the end of brunch, you and Alisha had convinced Kelly, and Nicki said she would go if Curtis wanted to, which was the best you could get from her (now that she was being slowly but awkwardly integrated into a friendship built on a core bond of murder and near death experiences that you hoped for her sake she’d never actually understand). You were confident that Simon would be uncomfortable but willing to do whatever Alisha wanted, and Nathan...well Nathan could easily be bribed by the promise of booze and drunk girls.

You sighed a little sadly at the thought. You liked him a lot, when he wasn’t being totally obnoxious for the sake of a laugh, but not once in all of your time together had he ever indicated that he might be interested. If anything, you thought he might hate you, at least in comparison to the others. Still, you tried not to dwell on it as you said goodbye to the others and headed off to work, where you would undoubtedly see him, since he always dropped in to try and convince you to give him free lunch (which you did, not telling him it came out of your already meager paycheck).

The night of the party, you linked sweater-covered arms with Alisha as the two of you staggered down the dunes toward the gathered crowd, the thick sand making you move as if you were already drunk.

“So are you finally going to say something tonight?” she asked you as you walked.

“What are you talking about?” you countered, turning to give her a puzzled look.

“Oh come on. Everyone knows you fancy Nathan! Except him.”

Even though you couldn’t see her face in the dim light, you knew her well enough to guess the look on her face.

“As if it matters. He’s definitely not into me, so why waste my breath humiliating myself?”

“You don’t know that for sure. He’s probably never matured past the whole ‘be mean to them so they don’t know you like them’ from grade school. And tonight could be perfect. The glow of the bonfire, the stars overhead. It’s actually pretty romantic if you think about it.”

“I think I’ll leave the romance to you and Simon,” you laughed, giving her a gentle shove toward her boyfriend where he stood on the fringes of the group, bobbing (dancing?) awkwardly with a beer in hand.

She turned around to stick her tongue out at you before greeting him with a shy smile. You shook your head, happy for the both of them and their budding romance, before wandering a little further down the beach to get yourself a drink.

“Nice turtleneck,” a familiar voice drawled sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes, plucking a beer from one of the massive buckets of ice, and turning to face him.

“Hey Nathan,” you sighed.

“Aw, don’t say it like that,” he pouted dramatically. “Ya know yer happy to see me.”

“Ugh, actually I was hoping that for one night you’d not be hangin around,” you muttered, half-lying.

He looked shocked for a moment, hurt flashing in his brilliant green eyes before he turned away with a shrug. “Fine then, I’ll leave ya alone. I’m sure there’s way prettier than ya around anyway. Fanny for days, and I don’t need ya.”

“You’re a prick!” you growled at his retreating back, fumbling to open the bottle in your hand and take a deep drink, slicing your hand on the edge of the cap in the process. “Shit.”

“Need some help with that?” a new voice asked.

You looked up into a pair of friendly brown eyes and smiled softly. “Uh, sure. Thanks.”

He smiled back at you, introducing himself as John, and held out his hand for you to place yours in. He poured water over it, wrapping it in a napkin after, holding pressure on it for a long moment before checking to see if it had stopped bleeding.

“So what’s the verdict?” you asked jokingly. “Do I get to keep my hand?”

“Actually, I was hoping I could,” he attempted a wink and laughed when it came out more awkward than suave. You couldn’t help but laugh along, feeling your face grow warm as he did in fact maintain his hold on you and ushered you back toward the fire and the group.

“He’s wrong you know,” he said.

“What?” you asked in confusion.

“That guy. He was wrong about there being prettier people around. You’re the most beautiful person on this beach.”

You bit your lip, looking shyly down at your feet. “Oh…I mean, probably not…”

“I think so. And I graduated top of my class, so I think I know a thing or two.” Seeing you shift uncomfortably, he smiled. “Hey, let’s dance.”

Not having any reason to deny him, even though he really wasn’t the one you wanted to be dancing with, you nodded, shifting so that your arms draped around his shoulders, your still mostly full beer clutched lightly by the neck. His hands came to rest on your hips, large and warm even through your shirt, and the two of you swayed to the music drifting over the crowd.

Nathan watched darkly as Y/N danced with some other guy. His chest felt tight as they laughed and swayed together, as he leaned in to whisper something that made Y/N blush, and his lips twisted into a scowl. He took a swig from the red solo cup of mystery alcohol he had snagged and was just about to storm over and interrupt when Kelly cut in front of him.

“Wot do ya think yer doin?” she asked, gesturing in that scolding way of hers.

“I was just going over there,” he said, innocently. “Wanted to meet Y/N’s new friend.”

“Don’t,” he glared at her. “Ya’ve blown at least a half dozen shots with Y/N. I don’t blame ‘em if they decided ya ain’t worth it.”

Nathan’s face dropped. “Ya don’t know what yer talkin about Kel,” he muttered.

“I didn’t mean it like that Nathan, and ya know it. I’m just sayin, there’s nothing wrong with Y/N dancing with a cute guy and wanting to just stay mates with ya.”

“Except we aren’t even mates. Y/N barely tolerates me.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t such a prick all the time, pushing their buttons almost as bad as you do with Simon…”

“I do not!”

Before Kelly could respond, someone screamed, echoing over the dark beach and causing everyone to turn toward the water.

“There’s something out there!” the girl cried, pointing shakily.

People began looking restlessly around at each other, no one sure what to do. And then someone laughed.

“Real funny, Beth,” a voice called. “Ooh something spooky in the water! Next you’ll be saying there’s ghosts in the attic.”

A few nervous chuckles ran through the group as people returned to their activities, the air of tension not quite lifting.

“You don’t think there’s actually something out there do you?” Nicki asked, her and Curtis appearing near you and making you jump, almost spilling your drink on John.

You took a shaky breath, bringing the bottle to your lips to give yourself time to reply without sounding scared.

“Nah,” you said eventually. “I mean, what could be out there?”

“Yeah, it was probably just like a seagull or something,” John said, laughing. “Beth is always so overdramatic.” Something about the way he said it grated on your nerves but you tried to shrug it off.

Curtis raised an eyebrow at the hand still on your waist. You shrugged slightly. Of all your friends, he and his girlfriend would probably be the most proud of you for trying to move past your unfortunate crush on Nathan, but the attempt was only half-hearted so you almost didn’t want to admit it.

Another scream rang out. A different voice this time. High and sharp and insistent that there was something out there in the shadows. One of the classic dudebros made some joke about “chicks being hysterical” and started heading for the water. Several people tried to stop him, saying that it was too dangerous. He ignored all of them. Shortly after he hit the water, his outline suddenly disappeared.

After that, chaos ensued with people screaming and running in all directions. Some headed for the water, phone flashlights glancing off the waves as they looked for the missing man. Most seemed determined to just be anywhere but there. Someone crashed into the corner of the pallet stack that formed the base of the bonfire, going down in a scream of pain under the now fallen and spreading fire. Nicki swore, the explicative disappearing as she vanished.

You lost track of both Curtis and John in the crush, struggling to keep your feet as you waded through the loose, stirred up sand.

You wanted to help but you didn’t know how.

You tripped. Falling onto the uneven ground, you tucked in on yourself, trying to protect your head and organs from the stampede now over and around you.

“There you guys are!” Alisha cried, her and Simon running up to the group as they huddled together up the beach, standing on a rocky hill and looking down at the churning crowd and roaring fire, spitting below.

“We have to do something,” Simon said, frowning.

“Like wot?” Kelly snapped. “None of us can fight fires. And whatever’s in the water…” she shuddered, not wanting to think about some shark or other horrifying sea monster.

“Wait, where’s Y/N?” Nathan asked, looking around and realizing you were missing.

“Shit,” Curtis said, running nervous hands over his head. “They were right behind me...I must have lost ‘em in the crowd…”

“Y/N is smart…” Alisha tried to reason.

“Yeah. Yeah. Probably just on another part of the beach…” Nicki sounded more scared than convincing.

“Hey.” Nathan jumped, turning to see Y/N standing behind him, no worse for wear, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Oh thank god. Jesus, Y/N. You had us worried,” he sighed, trying to calm his racing heart. “I mean...they were worried. I wasn’t...ya know cus I don’t…aw fuck, I was worried too. Thought ya might be buried under all that mess.”

You bit your lip, raising your eyes as you nodded to the rest of the group. He looked back to realize they were all staring at him in concern.

“Nathan, what the fuck are you on?” Alisha snapped. “Y/N’s not there. No one is.”

“No. No no no. That means…” he turned back to look at you, desperation in his eyes as reality dawned on him.

“I died. Tripped and got trampled. Lame right?”

He shook his head, tugging at his curls. “Shiiiit.”

“What else did you think I was apologizing for?” you tried to tease, tears rolling down both your faces.

“Nathan, is Y/N…is she dead?” Simon asked hesitantly. “Are you talking to her ghost?”

He swallowed heavily, nodding reluctantly. Curtis gasped.

“We have to do something,” Simon said, frowning.

“Like wot?” Kelly snapped. “None of us can fight fires. And whatever’s in the water…” she shuddered, not wanting to think about some shark or other horrifying sea monster.

“Wait, where’s Y/N?” Nathan asked, looking around and realizing you were missing.

“Down there somewhere!” Curtis answered, craning his neck as if he could spot you in the crowd.

“Wot?!” Kelly shouted. “How do you know?” Her face fell. “You already did this at least once. Which means…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, but they all knew how it ended.

Nathan was panicking. He could feel it. It was like dying. Except that he was fine, physically. Still his throat felt constricted and his blood was racing in his ears. He couldn’t think straight. All he could focus on was the fact that Y/N wasn’t there, was somewhere else and in danger, that Curtis had changed time and it was connected to their absence. He refused to think of what that meant. He refused.

He took off running.

“Nathan!” Kelly called after him. “Wot the fuck are you doing?!”

He barely heard her. His trainers sank into the sand, slowing every step he took and he wanted to scream in frustration. People pushed and shoved him and he started swinging fists and bony elbows as he fought the flow of fleeing adolescents. Somewhere nearby, fire reached one of the big open vats of jungle juice and roared up, the wave of heat knocking people off their feet.

“Y/N!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, hoping that you could hear and answer him.

The air smelled like burning plastic, and hair, and other things he didn’t want to think about.

“No, no...I can’t...not again…” tears stung as he continued to push his way through, even though he didn’t notice it. It was just like Jamie and he was just as useless. He was always useless.

He stumbled over something large, and swore, barely keeping his balance. He muttered something about damn rocks when the something groaned. He looked down. It was hard to see but he was pretty sure...yeah, that was a familiar green turtleneck. He actually laughed in relief as he dropped to his knees, scrabbling to pull you up and get you to move.

All you could think was that this was how you died. No, that wasn’t true. You also found yourself wondering if you would end up a specter, haunting Nathan, or just a charred skeleton and no one would ever know for sure what happened.

And then there were hands. Soft, pulling hands. Hands that wanted you to uncurl, to rise up, that wanted to help you do it. You ached, and your eyes stung (there was definitely sand in them, plus the smoke, at the very least). Your breath came in short coughs. The hands were attached to arms that were now around your shoulders and waist, supporting you, helping you stand, helping you run, or rather limp, onward.

Eventually, the world became cooler, and your breathing became a little easier. You were still scared to open your eyes. You were still sure this was a dream in the moments before death’s embrace.

You couldn’t run anymore, dropping down onto the sand once more, not even caring enough to guard your squishy bits.

“Y/N?” Nathan’s voice, strained and quiet.

When nothing immediately caused you more injury, you rolled over onto your back, relieving some of the strain on your aching neck and chest.

“Y/N, say somethin,” he pleaded.

“Owwww,” you groaned, slowly peeling open one sand-coated eyelid and then the other, blinking rapidly to clear away the debris.

Nathan was beaming down at you. You marvelled at the way his hair flopped so perfectly over his forehead and the fact that this might have been the first real smile that you had ever seen. It was beautiful.

“What’s that dopey look for?” you snapped, a little annoyed but only because you were in pain.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I just got trampled by a stampede of co-eds on a burning beach. What the fuck do you think the answer to that question is, pretty boy?” The sarcastic nickname slipped out unintentionally, but you couldn’t deny it, he was pretty.

“Sounds t’ me like you’re just fine.”

You struggled to sit up and his hands shot out to brace you. Surprisingly, most of your bruises felt minor, except for the persistent pounding in your head, and now that you were in the clear air and not scared shitless, breathing wasn’t so hard.

“Guess so. I take it, I have you to thank?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded. “It was nothin’. I mean I can’t die right?”

“You can. You just don’t stay dead. And you’ve said before that it still hurts. So I guess I owe you for riskin’ that for me,” you said.

He suddenly pulled you into a hug, long arms curling tightly around you. You buried your face in his chest and the several layers of jackets he was wearing. Now that the ordeal was over, you felt like crying. You weren’t sure, but you thought Nathan might already be.

“I’m really glad yer okay, Y/N,” he mumbled against your hair. “I was scared I’d lose ya without tellin ya I fancy ya.”

“Sure ya do Nathan,” you said, rolling your eyes and trying not to wince as it made you a little dizzy.

He sputtered indignantly. “I do. I fancy ya and I know yer way too good for me, so I tried not to. But...I don’t wanna do that…”

“Nathan…” you fought to keep your voice from cracking. How long had you waited for this? How many times had you dreamed of him saying it? Except maybe without the self-deprecation.

“I know I cocked it up. But ya know I’m not good at the feelings bullshit,” He continued as if he hadn’t heard you.

“Nathan.”

“And if ya’d rather that other bloke, the one ya were dancin with...I won’t get in the way.”

“Nathan!” you finally shouted.

He startled. “Yeah?”

“Will you shut up and kiss me you dunce?” you asked, leaning back to look into his bright green eyes.

He licked his lower lip nervously and you felt your gaze drawn to it. Then his soft mouth was pressed to yours and you felt like you were melting. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding each other close. You traced your tongue over the path you had watched his take and he parted, dancing together with you. He groaned, fingers tightening on your waist.

Slowly, you drew back, smiling at the sight of him sitting there, his eyes closed and lips still slightly parted. You looked around at where you were: far enough down the beach that you were safe from the spreading fire, and completely alone but not so far that you couldn’t see it, wouldn’t know what happened. You knew you should get back to the group.

“In case it wasn’t obvious,” you said softly. “I like you too, Nathan. A lot.”

“I mean, duh. I’m gorgeous,” he said, gesturing to himself with one hand which quickly returned to its place on your side.

You laughed. Alisha’s words from the beginning of the night echoed in your head, feeling like they were uttered a lifetime ago, like a prophecy across the ages. ‘The glow of the bonfire, the stars overhead. It’s actually pretty romantic if you think about it.’ Maybe it wasn’t how she’d meant it, but you had always been good at making the best of a situation.

“We should probably stay here, wait out the emergency crews or the fire to die out on it’s own before we go back…” you suggested, smilingly devilishly.

“Yeah. I don’t exactly love the idea of goin back through there,” he agreed, nodding up the beach.

“Of course, who knows how long that’ll take. We might get bored…”

His eyebrows shot up. “What are you suggestin, Y/N?”

“Well that depends.”

“Oh? On what?”

“You.” You cocked your head to one side. “The night is young, the moon is full, so what are you going to do with me, Nathan?”

He returned your smirk with one of your own before slowly laying you back on the sand.

“You saucy minx,” he teased, leaning in so his lips brushed yours. “I have a few ideas.”

#alright...I don't know where that came from and I don't know if it satisfies the prompt but it's what I did #I think it does #original requester: please feel free to tell me if it doesn't satisfy and I'll take another crack at it #just might not make it up before Halloween #Nathan Young x reader #Misfits fic #death tw #near death experience tw #fire tw #panic tw

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getitinbusan · 4 years

Text

September 1st

Jungkook's Proposal

Lazy days with Jungkook were a rare luxury. His large reserves of energy meant he was always up to something even when he was on a break.

The balcony doors were open and a cool breeze drifted through the bedroom ruffling the sheet that covered you. It was already noon but you were still tucked happily under Jungkook's arm. Both scrolling mindlessly through your phones you brought it up, “You’re going to be 23 soon, I think we should have a party.”

He put his phone down and rolled into your side. “I was thinking about going to Jeju,” he said matter of factly.

“Oh, were you going to invite me?” you asked smiling.

“I was going to invite everyone, my family, the guys and yes,” he giggled, “I guess you can come too. Would that be okay?”

Running your fingers through his messy hair you pushed it back out of his face and nodded.

“You shouldn’t have to plan your own party Jungkook, we can do it together."

You had a week to figure things out, guests, accommodations, food. You really just wanted to give him the best birthday, he deserved it.

Jungkook however, wasn’t being very cooperative. Everytime you asked questions he shut you down, if you brought it up he brushed you off. He was downstairs at the gym when you came across his to do list.

Call and confirm guests✔

Book Flights✔

Book Hotel ✔

Schedule Dinner and party space✔

Reserve private beach✔

*do not forget to pick up the package*

Puzzled as to why these were already checked off as done you messaged Joon.

Y/N: Hey Joon, I just wanted to invite you to Guk's party in Jeju. Are you down?

Joon: Yep, already confirmed with JK last week.

Y/N: What kind of cake do you think I should get?

Joon: I thought that the guys were taking care of the cake? Don’t worry about anything, I think everything is already organized.

Y/N: Oh… okay, thanks.

Flopping on the couch your mind wandered to a million different conclusions as to why he was cutting you out.

Jungkook’s key turned in the lock, the door squeaking open announcing his arrival. He was looking through his phone as he dropped his duffel bag on the floor.

"Hey Babe, Joon said you messaged him about the party?"

He walked over to where you were sitting and tapped your nose with his finger.

"I’ve already taken care of everything, all you have to do is pack."

Feeling disappointed your face fell into a frown.

"What's wrong?"

"Jungkook, I just wanted to take care of you for once, to be able to contribute something.”

He looked flustered, “I’m sorry baby, I just didn’t want to burden you with it.”

Upset you stood up, “I can’t believe you would think that throwing you a party would be a chore for me…I feel fucking useless."

Your statement trailed off as you walked away to your bedroom.

Y/N: I know I’m probably overthinking and being too sensitive but Tae...does he think I'm incompetent?

Tae: What’s wrong love?

Y/N: If Guk doesn’t think I’m capable of throwing him a party…this is so stupid… but he certainly can’t think I’d be a good wife. It’s been two years Tae, we’ve never even discussed marriage. Does he think of me that way at all?

Tae: Noooo Y/N, he loves you so much. You are totally over reacting. Please, don’t make this an issue, it’s his birthday.

______________

You didn’t know but in the other room Jungkook was busy texting Jin for advice.

JK: I don’t know what to do, Y/N is mad at me for not letting her help with the party.

Jin: Coming to your smartest Hyung for love advice, good choice. Here's my wisdom, Just make up a job and ask her to do it.

JK: That’s Brilliant!! Thank you.

He made a quick call, arranging that you would be the one picking up the last unchecked item on his to do list, the package.

He pulled the bedroom door open and lay down beside you, “I’m sorry, I’ve been keeping a secret from you.”

You set down your phone giving him your full attention.

“My brother is going to propose to his girlfriend, he swore me to secrecy, that’s why I’ve been planning everything, so she won’t find out.”

You felt your temper rise, “Are you fucking kidding me? You finally get your birthday off, you haven’t had a personal party for years and your brother's using it to propose to his girlfriend all while making you plan it for him?”

Jungkook laughed, “It sounds kind of shitty when you put it that way. It’s really not that big of a deal Y/N, I’m happy he wants to share it with everyone.”

How could you fault him for wanting to help his family? He was such a giving person and it was part of the reason you loved him so much.

“If you really want to help there’s one thing left that you can do."

_____________

It was all set, the flight was leaving at 3pm and you had been tasked with picking up the box and keeping it safe until the party. Arriving at the jeweller the older man greeted you kindly. "Would you like to see it?”

He opened the iconic tiffany blue box while you nodded. It was a beautiful square cut diamond on a vintage white gold band, it was breathtaking.

“The gentleman took a long time deciding on this particular ring, he said it had to be perfect. What do you think?"

Your heart was aching in your chest. Lately you found yourself daydreaming about marrying Jungkook, him placing a ring just like this on your finger.

"She’s a lucky girl, I’m sure she’s going to love it.”

It’s not that you weren’t happy about the engagement, you were just completely, full on green with envy, jealous. Not even together a year and Jung- Hyun is ready to propose.

You knew you were being an idiot. Jungkook loved you, you lived together, he always made sure your needs were met but here you were upset because she was getting a ring first.

Taking the box you snapped the lid closed and put it into your purse for safe keeping.

Enough, you needed to stop thinking about yourself. It was Guk's birthday and it was time to think of him and what he wanted. But what do you get someone who has everything

Wandering around you came across a neon lit sex shop, perfect! Three days away, three new sets of sexy lingerie and a bag full of goodies.

Maybe you didn’t get to plan the main party but you could make sure it was an afterparty he wouldn't forget.

The flight was short and smooth, you were amongst the last to arrive.

Making your way to the suite to change for dinner Jungkook flung himself down on the bed, “I’m calling dibs on the first shower!” you called out.

You got ready, putting on your new black lace thong set, loose black mini sundress over top and wrapped your hair into a messy bun.

Exiting the bathroom you found Jungkook in the same position on the bed snoring lightly.

Crawling on top of him, you pulled back his bucket hat to reveal his closed eyes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close for more.

“You need to get up babe.”

He hummed softly into your neck, “that’s the problem, I am up."

He moved your hand to his bulge. Placing his hand on your ass he could feel the lace under your dress. He let out a needy moan as he squeezed your cheek.

“Jungkook we need to go, everyone’s waiting.”

He pouted, “But it’s my Birthday.”

Getting off of him and laughing you couldn’t help but throw it in his face.

“Yes, and if I had planned this party I would have pushed dinner back so the birthday boy could have gotten his dick sucked beforehand. You really only have yourself to blame."

He knew he was defeated, rolling off the bed he sulked his way to the shower.

Coming out about 20 minutes later his skin was glowing, he looked stunning in his tan hanbok pants and white dress shirt, his hair was long and fluffy.

“You look amazing Guk.”

Walking over you hugged him, sneaking a kiss onto the side of his neck.

“You had your chance Y/N, now we both have to suffer all night"

Walking hand in hand to the open air dining room most of your friends and family were already waiting at beautiful white rose adorned tables.

"Jungkook, did you arrange all these details?”

Smiling he nodded, “Did I do good?”

That dull ache hit your chest again, yes he did good, he’d planned the perfect proposal… for someone else.

You kissed his cheek and lay your head on his shoulder, “I think you’ve created every girls fantasy”

Trying to hide your melancholy throughout dinner you stayed pretty quiet only offering small smiles instead of conversation. You didn’t want to be selfish but you knew in a few hours all talk would be about weddings.

The thoughtless question on everyone’s lips would inevitably turn to, “when are you going to take the plunge?”

It usually happened at family gatherings, you’d watch them corner Jungkook and he’d awkwardly explain that one day when his career wasn’t so busy he'd be able to think more clearly about it.

You hated how calculated of a decision marrying you would have to be for him. Seeing how romantic he could be with the laid out gestures before you, you questioned why he could do it for someone else but not you? Maybe he didn’t think you were the one?

Like he could hear your inner thoughts he put his hand on your thigh under the table. “What’s going on, is everything ok?”

“Just thinking about getting you back to the room later, that’s all.”

You lied.

He kissed your cheek but you knew he didn’t believe you. Seeming a little out of sorts himself, maybe this whole situation had him questioning your future as well.

“I think maybe we need a minute to talk, let’s go while everyone’s finishing.”

He took your hand and led you away from the group towards a private area of the beach.

Sitting in the sand he motioned for you to join him.

You sat with your back against his chest, head on his shoulder, his arms around you.

The sun was beginning to set into a light shade of purple and orange. “I want to know why you’re sad.”

He asked like he knew the answer but needed confirmation.

“I just wish that this party was about you, for your birthday, that it wasn’t about engagements…”

You were trying hard not to sound jealous but he could see through you.

“How about you tell me the truth?”

Reaching into your purse you pulled out the box and handed it to him.

“This, this is what’s bothering me. Jungkook…do you think that you’ll ever want me to be your wife? Do we want the same things?”

His arms still around you he held the box in front of you and opened it slowly.

“It sure is a beautiful ring,” he said.

You closed your eyes, knowing it wasn’t for you. “It really is,” you answered softly.

“Do you really not know what I want Y/N?"

He kissed the top of your head.

"I love you more than anything in this world. The ONLY thing I wanted for my birthday was to bring you here, to sit on this beach with my arms around you….and to propose with this ring. So… you tell me, do we really want the same thing?”

Absolutely 100% shocked you turned to face him.

“Are you joking with me Jungkook?” you punched his shoulder.

He laughed, “I think I know better than that”

Still skeptical you asked, “So all of this was a lie? You really made me carry around my own engagement ring all day thinking it was for someone else?”

His grin gave away the fact that he was pretty pleased with himself.

“No, you haven’t said yes yet, so technically it’s still not yours. Do you want to marry me Y/N?”

You crashed your lips into his as he pulled you back on top of him.

“Yes!”

Walking back to the restaurant the tables had been moved and outdoor furniture and candles had taken their place. Everyone was chatting and drinking until they noticed your arrival, silence fell and eyebrows raised waiting for the news.

“Of course she said yes!”

At Jungkook’s declaration everyone cheered and the waiters came out with trays of champagne. The boys carried out a large white cake adorned with sparklers while singing Propose, tears of happiness gathered in everyone's eyes.

The rest of the night was perfect, you danced in the sand oblivious to the guests filtering out back to their rooms for the evening.

Looking around, you realized it was just the two of you left, lost in your own world.

“Maybe we should call it a night?”

“Maybe, but I don’t really want this moment to end” he responded with a kiss.

“Maybe… you forgot what I’m wearing under this, and that it’s also your birthday, and that I still haven’t given you your gift”

He grinned and pulled your hand leading you back to the room.

You left him waiting on the bed as you got ready. Finally revealing yourself, fully naked.

He whined, “Babe what happened to the lingerie, I mean you’re beautiful naked but… ”

You cut him off, “but I’m not naked, I’m wearing this beautiful ring...and...it also just so happens that I bought you a ring too."

You threw him the little black bag and he pulled out his gift blushing.

“Oh, mine's a little bigger...and silicone...and definitely not church appropriate.”

You cocked your brow and grinned, "It vibrates too!"

"Put it on me?"

You slid the cock ring down his shaft and sucked his tip.

"Do you take me to be your wife?"

"Fuck, yeah I do."

#jungkook #jungkook smut #Kookie #guk #bts #nochu

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