#kentucky blue grass
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Traditional Landscape - Landscape
Inspiration for a large traditional partial sun front yard stone water fountain landscape in summer.
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Best Kentucky Bluegrass Seed
Kentucky Bluegrass, known for its lush, emerald-green appearance, is a top choice for lawns and sports fields. When searching for premium bluegrass seed, look no further. Our high-quality bluegrass seed ensures a rich, enduring carpet of grass, making your outdoor space truly vibrant and inviting.
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As illustrated in Figure 19.36, root system architecture varies widely among species, even those living in the same habitat.
"Plant Physiology and Development" int'l 6e - Taiz, L., Zeiger, E., Møller, I.M., Murphy, A.
#book quote#plant physiology and development#nonfiction#textbook#root system#diversity#prairie#kentucky blue grass#lead plant#missouri goldenrod#indian grass#compass plant#porcupine grass#heath aster#prairie cord grass#big blue stem#pale purple coneflower#prairie dropseed#side oats gramma#false boneset#switch grass#white wild indigo#little blue stem#rosin weed#purple prairie clover#june grass#cylindric blazing star#buffalo grass#plant roots
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Porch Pooch Portrait by Neil Kesterson
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First roll of Fomapan 400. Grainy but pleasant. Pentax SV3, Fomapan 400, Caffenol
#35mm#B&W#Blue Grass#Fomapan 400#Fomapan. Fomapan 100 Classic#Kentucky#Lexington#M42#Pentax#SH3v#analog#black and white#film#filmisnotdead#filmsnotdead#United States#flickr
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Brisket Nachos at Keeneland
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Oh wow they tore up everyone's tree lawn and are planting new grass 👀
#marquilla#which is intriguing since we have the ugliest tree lawn grass sgdgdgdg idk how to explain it but it's like crusty#hopefully this will be soft grass oh or the nice thick ones the Kentucky blue grass thats pretty actually
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"i could fix him"
youre addicting to paleing but okay
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I absolutely love how Kentucky is so proud to have a very vibrant grass that we're like "our grass is so fucking green that it's blue!"
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Mansion with a view and a lot of yard by durand clark
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Overlooking the Ohio River and downtown Maysville, Kentucky. One of several large homes that line the steep hillside downriver from the town's center. Many suffer from years of neglect.
#maysville kentucky#mason county kentucky#hillside#mansion#grass#bluegrass region#nikon digital#nikon mirrorless#nikon Z 6#nikon 24-70 f/4 S#trees#blue#decay#flickr
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Chemically sterilized...or mechanically sterilized?
It is clear that applying chemicals to your yard and landscape, be it fertilizers, weed killers, or pesticides, has devastating effects to the community of life that is present in every place.
But is the terrifying decline in insects explainable by chemicals alone?
When i am in mowed environments, even those that I know have no lawn chemicals, they are almost entirely empty of life. There are a few bees and other insects on the dandelions, but not many, and the only birds I see are American robins, Grackles, and European starlings.
Even without any weed killers at all, regular mowing of a lawn type area eliminates all but a few specially adapted weeds.
The plants of a lawn where I live include: Mouse ear chickweed, Birds-eye Speedwell, Common blue violet, Dandelion, Wild Garlic, Creeping charlie, White Clover, Black Medick, Broad-leaved plantain, Mock Strawberry, Crabgrass, Small-flowered Buttercup, Ribwort Plantain, Daisy Fleabane, a few common sedges, Red Deadnettle...That sounds like a lot of plants, but the problem is, almost all of them are non-native species (Only Violets, Daisy Fleabane, and the sedges are native!) and it's. The Same. Species. Everywhere. In. Every. Place.
How come...? Because mowed turf is a really specific environment that is really specifically beneficial to a number of almost entirely European plants, and presents stressors that most plants (including almost all native north american plants) simply can't cope with.
The plants mentioned above are just the flowering weeds. The grasses themselves, the dominant component of the lawn, are essentially 100% invasive in North America, many of them virulently and destructively invasive.
Can you believe that Kentucky bluegrass isn't even native to Kentucky? Nope, it's European! The rich pasture of the Bluegrass region of Kentucky was predominantly a mix of clover, other legumes, and bamboo. The clovers—Kentucky clover, Running buffalo clover, and buffalo clover—are highly endangered now (hell, kentucky clover wasn't even DISCOVERED until 2013) and the bamboo—Giant rivercane, Arundinaria gigantea—has declined in its extent by 98%. Do European white and red clovers fulfill the niches that native clovers once did? Dunno, probably not entirely.
One of the biggest troubles with "going native" is that North America legitimately does not have native grass species that really fill the niche of lawn. Most small, underfoot grassy plants are sedges and they are made for shady environments, and they form tufts and fancy sprays, not creeping turf. Then there's prairie grasses which are 10 feet tall.
What this means, though, is that lawns don't even remotely resemble environments that our insects and birds evolved for. Forget invasive species, lawns are an invasive BIOME.
It's a terrible thing, then, that this is just what we do to whatever random land we don't cover in concrete: back yards, road margins, land outside of churches and businesses, spaces at the edges of fields, verges at bypasses and gas stations...
Mowing, in the north american biomes, selects for invasive species and promotes them while eliminating native species. There's no nice way to put it. The species that thrive under this treatment are invasive.
And unfortunately mowing is basically the only well-known and popular tool even for managing meadow and prairie type "natural" environments. If you want to prevent it from succeeding to forest, just mow it every couple of years.
This has awful results, because invasive species like Festuca arundinacea (a plant invented by actual Satan) love it and are promoted, and the native species are harmed.
Festuca arundinacea, aka Tall Fescue, btw is the main grass that you'll find in cheap seed mixes in Kentucky, but it's a horrific invasive species that chokes everything and keeps killing my native meadow plants. It has leaves like razor blades (it's cut me so deeply that it scarred) and has an endosymbiont in it that makes horses that eat it miscarry their foals.
And this stuff is ALL OVER the "prairie" areas where I work, like it's the most dominant plant by far, because it thrives on being mowed while the poor milkweeds, Rattlesnake Master and big bluestems slowly decline and suffer.
It's wild how hard it is to explain that mowing is a very specific type of stressor that many plants will respond very very negatively to. North American plants did not evolve under pressures that involved being squished, crushed, snipped to 8 inches tall uniformly and covered in a suffocating blanket of shredded plant matter. That is actually extremely bad for many of the prairie plants that are vital keystone species. Furthermore it does not control invasive species but rather promotes them.
Native insects need native plant cover. Many of them co-evolved intimately with particular host plants. Many others evolved to eat those guys. And Lord don't get me started on leaf removal, AKA the greatest folly of all humankind.
So wherever there is a mowed environment, regardless of the use of chemicals or not, the bugs don't have the structural or physical habitat characteristics they evolved for and they don't have the plant species they evolved to be dependent on.
Now let's think about three-dimensional space.
This post was inspired when I saw several red winged blackbirds in the unmowed part of a field perching on old stems of Ironweed and goldenrod. The red-winged blackbirds congregated in the unmowed part of the field, but the mowed part was empty. The space in a habitat is not just the area of the land viewed from above as though on a map. Imagine a forest, think of all the squirrels and birds nesting and sitting on branches and mosses and lichens covering the trunks and logs. The trees extend the habitat space into 3 dimensions.
Any type of plant cover is the same. A meadow where the plants grow to 3 feet tall, compared with a lawn of 6 inches tall, not only increases the quality of the habitat, it really multiplies the total available space in the habitat, because there is such a great area of stems and leaves for bugs and birds to be on. A little dandelion might form a cute little corner store for bugs, A six foot tall goldenrod? That's a bug skyscraper! It fits way more bugs.
It's not just the plants themselves, it's the fallen leaves that get trapped underneath them—tall meadow plants seem to gather and hoard fallen leaves underneath. More tall plants is also more total biomass, which is the foundation of the whole food chain!
Now consider light and shade. Even a meadow of 3ft tall plants actually shades the ground. Mosses grow enthusiastically even forming thick mats where none at all could grow in the mowed portions. And consider also amphibians. They are very sensitive to UV light, so even a frog that lives in what you see as a more "open" environment, can be protected by some tall flowers and rushes but unable to survive in mowed back yard
#anti lawn#kill your lawn#native plants#the ways of the plants#native plant gardening#plants#random#bitching about mowing again
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Master List
Jack Harlow
Valentine Concepts
Sorrows Series
She say He say
Instagram Love
Up at night
Wrong Turns
Unspoken Words Part 2
Petty Too
Us or Them Part 1
I don’t think so
Gas lighting Queen
No Love
Forever Fling
Calling my phone
Softness
Breakup Blues
Outta my love
Trust Issues
Wait for you
Smacking Jack’s ass
My little love
Making Jack blush
Still Yours collaboration with @jackssneakylinkk
Altar
Kentucky accent
Just us
Love is kind
Instagram Au’s
Fears
Have Mercy collaboration with @lcandothisallday
Sink or swim Part 2 Part 3
Arguing with Jack
Texts go green
Jealousy, Jealousy
Big flirt
Court Side Love
My Baby
Catching Flights
Bitter Part 2
Need you right here
Heated Heated Part 2
Plastic off the sofa
All up in your mind
Sorry enough
Show it
All mine
Missing You
Sleepy
Twin flame
She’s a 10 but..
I drink wine
My baby
Need you right here
Court side love
You thought I was feeling you?
Pure Honey
Sleep over parties
Sickness Blues
Dead man
Wants and Needs
She’s taken
Just the two of us
Been that way
You and Me
Don’t you dare
That’s just the truth
I hate you
Boy, I invented you
Memories
Impalas and Air Force 1′s Part two Part three Part four
Mine all mine
Favorite toxic duo
My man the cook
Lover boy Harlow
Bare wit me part two
Enough is Enough
Improv Baby
Say you love me
I got you
Stone Cold
It’s like that?
Treat me right collaboration with @nattinatalia
I guess it’s fuck me
In the city
Grass ain’t greener
Football shenanigans
Be mine this Christmas
Disclosure Part two
Closure Part two
Jealous much?
Video Game Shenanigans
May the best man or women win
It’s giving Christmas
Shot Clock
Target runs
Sports and stuff
Soulmate and Always
My headache
Some haters
Memories
Spread Thin
Toxic Duo
One last time Part 2
All that matters
Pranks and Kisses
10,000 Hours
Chef Harlow
Valentine’s Blues
My baby love
Sorrows
Changes
Birthday Parties
Little weirdo
Could’ve Been
All for me
Good Love
Love Cycle
Circles Part Two
Keep you in mind
Cops & Robbers
Open Arms
Best thing I never had
Timeless Love
U remind me Part two
Obvious
Inhale & Exhale
How does it feel
Games Women Play
Coming Together
Jealousy
School Crushes
Broken By Love
Sound Check Shenanigans
Women of my dreams
The stage is ours
2 in the morning
Only 1
Rainy day blues
Sharing is caring
That’s the spot
Screwing
Good Off You
Games Women Play
Top Priority
Something Tells Me
Coming Together
Whatever It Takes
Pranks & Making Up
Should’ve Been
Soft Life
Cater 2 You
Who Is Who
Love In Paris
All about you
My Everything?
Routines
Secrets
Someone like U
Scared Much?
Arcade Love
Spooks and Apologizes
Morning Routines
Snooze
Come see me
Pranks and Spooks
Polar Opposites collaboration with @harlowcomehome
Deserve U
Fun and Games
Forever Attached
Spooky Nights In
Love Sick
Double Take
Nonesense
Traditions with you
Lovin on me
Out of luck
Late nights in
Days with you
So over
Too much
Jeremy (WMCJ)
Massages & Smoothies
Urban Wyatt
Phoenix & Venus
Birthday Boy
Coming Together
Treacherous Twin
Let me love you
All for us
Rainy Day
Adorn
Two fools in love
Love Bug
Loved & Lost
Buy a heart
Cozy
Personal Space
Cover Girl
Turn that cherry out
Twins
Hate me tomorrow
Talk of the town
Love Drought
He loves me?
Only 4 Me
In love
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in the cold kentucky rain
summary: a search in the rain for lost love
authors note: so i don't go here but i've gotten the joel brainrot through osmosis and here we are. if he's out of character that's totally on me. hope you enjoy <3
The fabled Kentucky bluegrass squishes under his feet. Dimly, he thinks it isn't really blue. It looks like any other grass he's ever seen—especially in the rain—wet and green with mud beginning to squeeze up between the blades.
Who had named it that?
Back in the old days, before monsters and all this death, Joel knew horses and bourbon flowed through this state in nearly equal measure. But, in all the Derby coverage he’s ever seen, he’s never heard anyone explain why it’s called bluegrass. Not once. It’s not like he had imagined cobalt blue blades grew along Kentucky’s hills, but still. He was expecting something more than this.
He almost wishes there was some way to look it up, a computer he could get to with some modicum of ease. It would certainly make his actual search easier, if nothing else. Which, if he's honest, is the only reason he's let his mind wander down a tangent about bluegrass in a state he's never been to before.
A distraction. A desperate, hopeless attempt at a distraction.
What if he never finds you? Never sees you again? Never again wakes to feel the softness of your breath against his bare chest as you sleep?
He couldn’t bare it. Even the thought makes his chest constrict in a way he hasn’t felt since the parasite that flipped the whole world upside down—since the day he'd seen his only daughter dead in his arms.
He knows now. He understands the way he should have been with you. You weren’t a mission—didn’t require the efficiency and reservation it took to get him through the rest of his life. He could be soft with you, should have been soft with you. All the romantic comedies they used to play on television over and over, he should have followed their example.
He should have been over the top in the way he loved you, even now, with the world the way it is.
The love he feels for you had changed his life, had given him something to look forward to, but he had still treated you like a task to be completed—a problem to be addressed.
It's all so clear now, as he walks through the rain looking for you. It’s all clear now, when he’s lost you.
He’s interrupted, jolted out of his thoughts as a truck jostles down the road behind him. Practiced fingers curl around the gun tucked in his waist, just in case.
Lot of good it would do him to contract pneumonia looking for you and end up dying in a botched roadside robbery.
The truck slows to a stop beside him, wet wheels squealing as they still.
A window rolls down—the old crank kind, Joel can hear it even over the rain, and it makes him smile.
“You need a ride, son?”
The man can’t be much older than Joel, but still, he takes on the role of elder easily. Joel’s fingers release his gun, knowing he could reach it in time should he still need to.
He shakes his head. “Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”
The man shakes his head, reaches across the bench seat, opens the door. “The only inconvenience I feel is my wet passenger seat. Get in.”
Joel does, running out of reasons he shouldn’t.
He settles, looks at the driver. “If you’re sure it’s not a hassle.”
“S’no trouble at all,” the man says, as he starts up the truck again.
Joel can feel the other man’s eyes on him and, without much other choice, turns to meet his eyes.
He quirks a brow. “You wanna talk about why you’re out for a walk in a torrential downpour?”
Joel looks down, shakes his head. “No big deal, really.”
“Sure.” He nods. “I go walking in the rain for no reason, too. I get it.”
Joel breaks. The stranger in the driver’s seat is a man he’ll never see again, and suddenly, his problems come pouring out. By the time the man stops again, outside an abandoned general store, Joel has spilled his guts.
He blows out a breath. “I wish you luck. Nowadays a search like that…”
Joel nods, shallows around the lump that has formed in his throat. “I know.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, thanks for the ride. I appreciate it.”
The man nods. “’Course. I hope you find her.”
“Me too,” Joel murmurs.
It happens when Joel is least expecting it, catching sight of you. He’s walking around the general store, having already checked inside, and there you are.
He could never forget the way you carry yourself, never forget the shape of your body. Like you, it’s burned into his mind for the rest of his life.
He tries to call your name, but his mouth won’t form the word. Instead, he tries, “Honey!”
You stop, turn to face him in slow motion.
“What are you doing here, Joel?”
Hands shaming at his sides with nerves, he attempts a joke. “Thought you could get rid of me that easy, hm, darlin’?”
You sigh, shrug. “I was hoping.”
Then, you’re turning, continuing on your way, and Joel can’t have that.
“Baby, please.” He hurries to catch up and tries to curl fingers around your arm and just misses.
“‘M’not your baby,” you mutter.
“Can you at least look at me?” Joel sighs. “Don’t I deserve that?”
You blow out a breath and turn to face him.
There’s a look in your eyes Joel has never seen turned on him. He’d call it something like disinterest.
“Just leave it alone, Joel.” You sigh. “Just let me go. Please.”
He shakes his head, tries to talk over a thunder clap. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can! You’ve done it for months!”
You turn on your heel, as done with the conversation as you appear to be with him.
Desperate, he calls after you, “Everyday I’m in love with you and everyday the feeling grows and if you could just…if you could just come home, I’ll make sure to show you that every moment.” Joel shakes his head, reaches out for you. You just slip out of his grasp. “You’ll never forget—never have to wonder how I feel—again. Not for a second.”
You simply stare at him, a look in your eyes he can’t place.
“Please, baby.” He can feel the tears roll down his cheeks and mix with the rain. “Please give me one more chance. Just one,” he whispers. “I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”
You’re silent for an entirely too long moment before you finally speak.
“Can you sing that song for me again?”
Joel knows exactly what you mean.
He remembers the night intently, the night you had cried on his shoulder and he had done the only thing he could think to comfort you.
Sing.
Gentle fingers had run up and down your arm as he had hummed.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy, when skies are gray
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take, my sunshine away
He murmurs them again now, meaning entirely different as he gets soaked to the bone in the rain.
“I’ll never do anything to make you wanna leave again, baby. I promise.”
“No,” you murmur. You run gentle fingers through his hair, laugh softly. “I’m sure you will.”
Joel feels his face fall, his heart go a bit topsy turvy, but you’re quick to right him.
“I just won’t run away next time. Not without speaking to you.”
His soul settles, and you lean in to kiss him. His rain soaked clothes, the water dripping into his eyes—it’s all worth it for this moment, the moment when everything falls into place once again.
“I love you,” he whispers, simple in its truth.
Your smile is a slow thing, taking over your face like honey. “I love you, too.”
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Blast Door
Blue Grass Chemical Agent Pilot Plant, Richmond, Kentucky
image credit: Dylan Lovan/Associated Press
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Bring Me Home
Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader (no Y/N, gender neutral)
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,529
Warnings: none
Notes: Some good old-fashioned comfort to open up the old blog again. Again, this blog will strictly be my writing blog. My main blog is still @wanderrghost! Gif by massivecolorspygiant.
The clear Kentucky morning gave him a perfect blue sky, a light breeze, and the scent of home. With his tires on whiterock and his engine rumbling from disuse, he drove down the long and winding lane that took him back to where he belonged.
The trees were greener than when he’d last seen them; leaves full and healthy as they wafted in the wind. The grass, now soft and thick compared to the coarse and dead that it’d been when he’d left, beckoned to him. Perhaps once he finished settling back in and unpacking, he’d sit beneath his favorite shade tree next to the pond. It had been frozen the last time he’d been near it; he could only imagine the life it held within now.
Jack Daniels had been away from home for a long time.
As he pulled into his usual parking spot in front of his garage, he attempted to gather his thoughts. How long had he been gone? It was the dead of Winter when he left, and it was the middle of Summer now. Six months? That sounded right, but he’d stopped counting the exact amount of time ages ago.Could’ve been more for all he knew, or cared, in that moment.
He’d hated being away from home - away from you - for so long, but it couldn’t be helped. Agent Champagne had made him an offer he couldn’t have refused: this one last major, dangerous, undercover job, and he’d get to be on regular desk duty from here on out. Officially retire from the field, be home in time for dinner every day, get weekends off. The whole “white picket dream” he’d been yearning for since before you’d even moved in with him years ago.
He finally had it, and he couldn’t wait to tell you all about it.
Of course, if you were even still around for him to tell. It was not lost on him that he hadn’t heard from you the entire time he was away, despite his numerous messages to you telling you he was alright and talking about how much he missed you. Tequila telling him you “must have found someone else” as a joke certainly didn’t help matters.
The walk to the front door was a short one, yet he could feel his legs growing more weary with each step. The flight back home had been a red-eye, overnight from some far-flung country, and he’d spent most of it doing his post-mission reports so as to get them out of the way. The agency had offered him a bed when he’d gotten onto the tarmac, but he’d turned it down. He had somewhere much more important to be and he’d spent long enough away from it.
The front door latched quietly behind him, the sound of it largely drowned out by the sound of running water coming from the kitchen. The sigh of relief that expelled from his lungs was palpable. Running water meant there was someone else in the house. He just hoped that someone was you, sans anyone else.
Jack hung his hat and jacket by the door, a habit he hadn’t practiced in the months since he’d been gone, but one that instantly returned with him. He untucked his white button-down shirt before loosening his tie as he walked across the room. He quietly observed the place as he did so - it seemed to be the same as when he’d left, with photos of the two of you still on the wall and his own objects on the shelves.
He thanked what little higher power he still believed in that Tequila’s premonition seemed to be incorrect.
Once he was in the doorway to the kitchen, he crossed his arms and leaned against the frame for a moment, simply observing as you washed dishes.
“Hey there, sugar.”
Jack watched as you startled, dropping the plate in your hands. The ceramic crashed to the tile, spreading shards of itself across the floor, and without thinking he immediately began to make his way to you, concern etching itself in his features.
“Jack?” you said, a tinge of disbelief in your voice as you stared at him with wide eyes. “I… what-”
“Easy, honey, easy,” he said softly, holding his hands out as if to ease a spooked animal, “don’t move. I’ll get it. I don’t want’cha steppin’ on any’a this.”
His boots crunched across the remains of the plate as he fetched a brush and dustpan from beneath the kitchen sink. He felt your hands, gentle on his back as he bent over to retrieve his items.
“Jack… I - I thought you were… I mean, I didn’t hear from you and it’s been so long, I… I thought-”
He stood back up, his chest inches from yours as he looked into your gaze.
It was as if you’d seen a ghost.
“You thought what, darlin’?” he asked, brows furrowing as he rested a hand on your cheek.
“I thought you were gone.”
“Gone?” he asked. “I mean, yeah, this last mission was a long one, but -”
“No, I mean… I mean gone.”
The way you said it punched him in the chest.
You’d thought he was dead.
“Didn’t’cha get any of my messages?” he asked softly, thumbing away an errant tear on your cheek, “I tried to send ‘em as often as I could, but I never heard nothin’ back. I thought… I thought maybe you’d just… up an’ left.”
“Messages?” you asked in a watery tone, “No, I never got anything, I sent you plenty of them too but never got a reply. I thought something had happened to you and they’d just kept it under wraps. Or that you’d left me and no one had the heart to tell me.”
“No, honey, never,” he said, his hand sliding to the back of your head as he pulled you to him. “I’d never do that to you, sugar.”
Your arms wrapped around his middle as you took shaky breaths into the fabric of his shirt. Meanwhile, Jack’s mind drifted elsewhere as his brow furrowed.
He’d never had any issue getting messages to you before, nor you to him. This was a new development, and considering it was during one of the longest missions he’d ever been on, it had an air of… intention to it. Somebody somewhere knew something, he was sure of it. He was reasonably sure he knew who that somebody was, but he sat the thought aside for later perusement. It wasn’t his priority now.
Jack gently pulled your head away before leaning in for a kiss. It was slow, methodical, and everything he’d thought about for months.
“Let me get this plate cleaned up, then we’ll talk, alright?”
You nodded, letting him go so he could sweep up the broken pieces of ceramic that lay scattered across the kitchen floor.
He was tired. Between the flight and the creeping worry that you’d vanished from his life and the sudden realization that someone was sabotaging the two of you, he was tired. True to his intelligence habits, he began to quickly compartmentalize what he could: the flight was over, you were still here, and he could pinpoint the saboteur tomorrow. For now, he could direct his focus to the task at hand, then he could take you into your shared bedroom and sleep the past six months away in peace.
The gentle swish-swish-swish of the brush on the kitchen tile plus the feeling of your hand on his shoulder soothed him. He leaned into you as much as he could, resting his head against your thighs every so often as he continued to clean.
Just a bit more. Just a few more areas of scattered debris, and he’d be done. Just a few… more…
Jack handed the brush and dustpan to you before pushing himself to stand. His joints cracked and popped and protested, but he paid them no mind as you sat the items on the kitchen counter and pulled him to you in another embrace as soon as he was upright. He reciprocated without a second thought, clinging to the lifeline you’d thrown to him as he treaded water out at sea. He let you reel him in, let you bring him ashore.
He let you bring him home.
“I missed you so much,” you said, the sound muffled by his shirt.
“I missed you too, baby,” he murmured, “more’n I can say.”
The quiet settled over you both once more, and before he knew what he was doing, Jack found himself gently swaying back and forth with you, dancing to a melody only he could hear. His eyes closed and he reveled in the feeling of having you in his arms. Then, again before he could stop himself-
“I’m so tired, darlin’.”
“Why don’t we go in and have a nap, then? Together.”
Jack only hummed in response, a sleepy smile creeping onto his face.
“I think I’d like that a lot.”
You pulled from him then, stealing one more kiss from him before taking his hand and guiding him away.
Finally, after far too long, Jack Daniels was home.
#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#if y'all could give this some love I'd deeply appreciate it#likes. reblogs. comments. anon asks. something/anything to make me feel like reopening this blog wasn't a colossal waste of time lol#ghost scribbles
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Blackberry by Neil Kesterson
Via Flickr:
Pentax SV3, Fomapan 400, Caffenol
#35mm#B&W#Blue Grass#Fomapan 400#Fomapan. Fomapan 100 Classic#Kentucky#Lexington#M42#Pentax#SH3v#analog#black and white#film#filmisnotdead#filmsnotdead#United States#flickr
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Hi Mrs Daniels!
I'm back with my Ask games again!
This time we have a spring based prompts theme. You get a spring prompt and a character and I'd like to know your head canon/immediate thoughts on the combination.
Character: Jack Daniels (of course)
Prompt: petals
With love,
El
Petals
Jack Daniels x F!OC
General/Teen+ Content
W/C: 913
Notable tags: Spring, Spring Prompt, Retired Jack, Domestic Jack, Fluff.
A/N: Finally getting round to this ask! Thank you my dear El for sending this in - I now sufficiently have an image of retired Jack swirling round my head 🫠🫠 (Is anyone surprised?)
Enjoy!
LadyBess xox
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Life was slower for Jack now, but he couldn’t be more thankful for it. For too long he’d lived his life swept away in the hustle and bustle of working for Statesman. But now, he took every day one hour at a time, and he enjoyed every moment.
Retirement was treating him well. After nearly thirty years serving with Statesman, he’d done his time, and decided to hang up his lasso for good. No more did he want to be running around, putting his life at risk, chasing down some of the world’s most nefarious criminals - not after he met her, either.
She’d come into his life at a time he’d least expected it, but now five years on he couldn’t imagine his life being any different. It was almost hard to imagine that there had been a time without her. They’d met by sheer chance one afternoon in May when his flight to the New York office got delayed, and they’d just been at the right place at the right time. With a few hours to kill, they started chatting just to pass the time, but when it came to boarding the plane Jack knew he wanted to make her all his.
Six months later, he did.
They’d lived together ever since, out in the depths of the Kentucky countryside. Jack had always wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps and have a home like what he had now - simple, functional, and picturesque. Situated on a few acres of land, it wasn’t like the old ranch he’d grown up on, but it was close enough. He had a few horses, and a few hens; that more than sufficed.
He had a simple life now, and took enjoyment in the small pleasures. Today was no exception. The sky had been clear this morning when he rose, a crispness to the air and a fine dew on the grass. Spring was well and truly here, and the garden they both meticulously maintained reflected this. Flowers of every colour started to bloom, a small rainbow in the beds littering the land.
Jack smiled to himself, fully content, as he relaxed back into the wooden swing bench which he’d installed under an oak tree just behind the main house. It had become his favourite place to be, especially on early mornings like these. A gentle breeze swayed past him, carrying a few loose petals across the green grass, and he watched as they danced away into the distance.
And that’s when he saw her.
Jack always woke up early - it was a habit he’d got into from his time with Statesman. He always slept light, his body finding it difficult even in retirement to not have to worry about being constantly alert. As such, once he woke up in the mornings, he found it hard to drift back off to sleep. Usually he’d just get up, and be by himself for a couple of hours. But just occasionally, she’d be up too.
Today was one of those mornings.
He smiled at her from across the garden, watching her come towards him with two mugs of tea in her hands. She was still dressed in last night’s pyjamas, a navy blue knee-length nightdress, with slippers to match, but she’d also thrown on one of Jack’s flannel shirts over the top. The gentle wind whipped at the hem of her nightdress, and she giggled as the silk dappled across her thighs. Jack grinned at her as she got closer, refraining himself from making an inappropriate joke.
“Morning, sugar,” he drawled, his voice still thick with sleep. She smiled down at him, handing him one of the piping hot mugs, then settled down next to him on the seat.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she said. Sunshine had been her nickname for Jack, the irony coming from the fact he was usually the complete opposite to a ray of sunlight. At least, he was. Retirement had changed that. But still, the nickname had stuck.
Jack took the mug from her, chuckling to himself, but then thanking her. He took a sip, sighing in contentment as the drink warmed him from the inside. It might be spring time now, but this early in the morning it was still a little on the colder side.
“What’s got you up so early, my love?” he asked. He set the drink down on his knee, stabilising it with one hand on the handle, and then he slipped his other arm across her shoulders. She smiled, leaning into his hold.
“Needed the bathroom, but noticed you’d already got up. Saw you out here and thought I’d keep you company for a little while,” she said. Jack smiled, turning his head to plant a kiss in her hair.
“You’re too sweet, you know that right?” he said, and she giggled.
“So is that why you call me sugar?” she asked, making Jack laugh.
“Maybe. Got a problem with that?” he teased. She turned her head to look at him, smiling warmly as the breeze began to mess up her hair, half in a messy bun from overnight.
“Never, Jack. I love you,” she said, leaning up to kiss Jack softly. He smiled against her lips, applying pressure to hers in return, drinking in the sensation. His body went warm throughout, the contentment and happiness of being with her as clear to him as the sky above. And in that moment, he realised.
He had never been happier.
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#pedro pascal#fanfiction#fanfic#agent whiskey#kingsman#jack daniels#domestic Jack#ask#prompt#spring prompt#petals#petals prompt#Ask Bess
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