#I’ll maybe draw my farmer later but I have a lot to get done and life’s a mess so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thegreenwolf · 3 years

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Betting on the Ponies (originally posted at my blog at https://thegreenwolf.com/betting-on-the-ponies/)

(Above: Breyer Classic Arabian Stallion made over into a winged unicorn with real wings from a barnyard mix rooster I raised for meat.)

If you’ve been paying attention to my social media or my shop links at all, you may have noticed that I haven’t really been posting much in the way of new hide and bone art for the past year or so. It’s not that I’ve stopped; I still make some fun things for my Patrons on Patreon every month, and I make some bone, tooth and claw jewelry on Etsy to order. But ever since events dried up, I haven’t been regularly making new batches of costume pieces or other Vulture Culture art. My usual M.O. was to make all sorts of new things for an upcoming event, and then once the weekend was done and I was home, post whatever hadn’t sold on Etsy. And since there haven’t been events…well…I’ve just found myself doing other things.

Some of that is because I’ve had to scramble to make up for the lost income; events were a pretty big chunk of my “pay”, and losing them meant having to tighten the belt. I also lost several other income streams thanks to the pandemic making it unsafe to be around groups of people, which didn’t help. So I had to rely on what was left, along with adopting a few new sources of bits and bobs of cash here and there.

And, honestly, I’ve needed a bit of a break. I’ve been making hide and bone art for over two decades now, and while I love it, any artist eventually wants to explore different media for a while. Sure, I’ve stretched my Vulture wings in new directions, going from costume pieces and ritual tools to assemblages and the Tarot of Bones. But ever since the Tarot came out, I’ve been feeling….not really burned out, but a little creatively wrung out, at least. I’ve really appreciated my Patrons and Etsy customers who have helped me keep a hand in that particular medium, while also allowing me to head off in other directions, too.

Which is to say that if you have been paying attention to the aforementioned social media and shops, you may have also noticed that I’ve been increasing the number of customized Breyer model horses and other animals I’ve made over the past couple of years. This might seem like a heck of a departure from skulls, bones, and other dead things. But in a way it’s really me getting back to long-neglected roots.

(One of my favorite customs I’ve done on one of my favorite molds, the Breyer semi-rearing mustang. )

See, I was a horse girl when I was a kid. Or, rather, I was a wannabe horse girl. I never got to lease or own a horse, and even now in my early 40s I’m still about the greenest rider you’ll find. (Seriously, I need one of those kid-proof horses that’s seen it all, done it all, and is probably more trail-smart than I am.) But I was obsessed with horses from a young age. It started with my very first My Little Pony that I got Christmas morning, 1983 (Applejack, if you must know), and then exploded further with a book on how to draw horses and my first Breyer model (Black Beauty 1991 on the Morganglanz mold) in my preteens. Horse actually took over for Gray Wolf for a few years as my primary animal spirit during my teens, so we have a very long history indeed.

And since I couldn’t have a real horse, I ended up collecting model horses, mostly Breyers with a few old Hartlands for variety. I had over 100 at the peak of my collecting, but I had to sell them all in my early twenties when I was between jobs. In hindsight it was probably for the best because having less stuff made it easier to get through the period of my life where I was moving about once a year, but I do miss that collection.

Back then I did my part to add to the artistic end of the model horse hobby, mostly with badly blended acrylic paint jobs and terrifying mohair manes and tails. But it made me happy, and that was the most important thing. Even though I only knew a couple other collectors in my little rural area, and my only real connection to the hobby was through the quarterly Just About Horses magazine Breyer put out, my collecting really made me happy in the same way that my first fur scraps and bones would catch my interest a few years later.

2020….well, it sucked. We all know that. Pandemic, political stress, financial roller coasters and more made it a really tough year for anyone who wasn’t wealthy enough to hide away and weather it all. And many of us found ourselves with more time at home, in need of distractions and solace. It ended up being a time where many people rediscovered their love of childhood hobbies. I’m one of those people. I’ve been slowly edging my way back in for the past few years, starting with repainting a few old Breyer models found at thrift stores, and then gaining momentum as I found that not only was I much better at customizing these models than I used to be, but I was having fun without the pressure to make a living off of it. (Yes, I love my hide and bone art, but when an art form is your bread and butter, it changes your relationship to it. But that’s a post for another time…)

So 2020 saw me really ramp up my customization efforts. I had to stop for a few months in summer and fall when I moved to a spifftacular new living space on the farm I’ve been working on the past few years (with, by the way, THE best studio space EVER!) but as the days shortened I found myself making more dedicated time to repainting and otherwise customizing models. I even started keeping a few of the models I’d bought to customize that were in better condition to create a small, but slowly growing original finish collection, and that really helped me feel like I was back in the (not actually a) saddle.*

That’s why a well-established artist of organic, pagan-influenced arts made from fur and leather and bone and feather suddenly started painting all these secondhand plastic ponies. It’s giving me that deep injection of childhood nostalgia balanced with adult skill and perspective, and it’s offered me a much-needed break from the exhausting schedule I’ve been living the past decade or so. Because suddenly, even with the time spent rearranging my income opportunities to make sure I could stay afloat, I found myself with a little time that hadn’t been scheduled to death, and when I thought about what I wanted to do with that time, I gravitated toward one of the few creative outlets in my life that was purely for fun.**

(Yes, this IS fan art of “The Last Unicorn”! I used a Breyer Stablemate rearing Arabian for the unicorn, and a Breyer Spanish fighting bull for the Red Bull. A LOT of fun to make this particular project.)

In a way having all my events canceled was one of the best things that happened to me, because it made me slow the fuck down. I no longer had several weekends a year where I had to spend weeks beforehand making art and otherwise preparing to be away from all my farm responsibilities for 4-7 days at a time, with all the packing and moving and setup and vending and teaching and teardown and going home and unpacking and exhaustion that goes with each event. I realized just how much each one was taking out of me, especially as I’ve gotten older. And I also recognized how much pressure I had been putting on myself to ALWAYS MAKE MORE STUFF FOR ETSY EVERY WEEK OR ELSE.

So the model horses are really sort of a symbol of the childhood joy I’ve managed to recapture, wresting time and energy back from my workaholic tendencies. I’ve even been thinking about what my professional life is going to look like once the pandemic eases up enough to allow events again, and whether I’ll put the same amount of time toward vending and and teaching at conventions and festivals as I used to. (There are a few favorites that I’m not going to miss for anything, so don’t worry about me dropping out entirely.) But for the first time in a very long time, I’m relearning to prioritize myself, and figuring out that maybe I don’t have to go hell-bent for leather every week, every year, in order to keep the bills paid and the critters fed.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s okay for this dead-critter-artist, pagan-nonfic-author, teacher-vendor-farmer, to indulge herself with something fun, and bet on the ponies to help her get through the tough times.

(P.S. Amid everything going on, I am back to working steadily on my next book, which I mentioned in this blog post almost a year ago. As a recap, its working title is Coyote’s Journey: Deeper Work With the Major Arcana, and it’s a deep dive into that section of the tarot using pathworkings with the animals I assigned to the major arcana of the Tarot of Bones. It’s not just a Tarot of Bones book, though; it’s a good way to get a new, nature-based angle on the majors in general, as well as hopefully gain a better understanding of yourself. My goal is to have it out later this year, self-pub of course, and at the rate I’m going it may end up being my longest book! Stay tuned, and if you want to get excerpts of the work-in-progress, become my Patron for as little as $1/month!)

*At the height of my “horse girl” phase, I had a really beat-up pony saddle I’d bought for ten bucks at a yard sale, and got a cheap saddle stand for it and put it in my room. And yes, I occasionally sat on it and pretended I was riding an actual horse. Hey, it made me happy at the time, and it was the closest I was ever going to get apart from a trail ride every few years.

**Yes, I do sell my customs. But I don’t make them on a schedule, I take commissions VERY sparingly, and I’m getting to stretch some new creative muscles, especially in the realms of sculpting and painting, so this is primarily for my enjoyment. The sales are just a side benefit.

(My ode to the forests of the Pacific Northwest, a Breyer deer repainted to resemble the Columbian black-tailed deer that frequent the farm I live on, along with hand-sculpted Amanita muscaria mushrooms, real and fake moss, and real lichens from fallen branches.)

#Breyer #model horses #vulture culture #artwork #artist

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creativeskullcreations · 3 years

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Buddy’s Problem part 2

Okay! Part two is done! Part three probably isn't gonna be until after the New Year, though, but it should be the final part.

Enjoy the story, and have a Merry Christmas! :D

As it turned out, being a campaign manager was pretty difficult, especially when Buddy had to travel to a whole different town for it. Filbo lived in a small farming town called Kinsing. Several other members of the expedition lived there too, though Wiggle, Gramble, and Cromdo lived in Gippsenburg. Either way, apparently Filbo wasn't very well known, having moved to Kinsing recently.

That was useful, and Buddy could totally work with that.

First was getting him nominated, which was easy as anyone could throw their name in. Filbo actually did that himself, though he needed some coaxing from Buddy to actually put it into the box. They then went out for burgers(not Bungers, thankfully) afterwards. They were joined by Beffica, who was shocked that Filbo was running for a real political position.

"Like, seriously? That's awesome you squeeb!" She gave him a soft punch to the arm, which he winced at. She didn't notice, or maybe just ignored it. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Well, I mean, I ended up doing pretty good back at Snax- on Snaktooth, so I figured I might as well try for the real thing." He told her, rubbing the soon-to-be-bruise. "Worst thing that could happen is I'll lose to Robbzoni."

"Ugh, Robbzoni. He's the worst." She helped herself to Buddy's fries, even as he tried to yank the plate away from her. "He's the real reason we don't have anymore flowers by the roads. He kept stealing them, so eventually the town stopped replacing them."

"How the grump did you find that out, Beff?" Buddy asked before shoving the whole handful of remaining fries into his mouth. She just shrugged and went for Filbo's plate instead.

"I snooped, Bestie. Just like I always do. Did." She corrected herself quickly, looking away. "I, uh, used to do that."

"So..." Buddy searched for a new topic. "What do you do now, anyways?"

"Oh, I got hired as a reporter at CGN. It's a bit of a commute, but not so bad." She shrugged. "And my coworkers aren't so bad, either."

Ah, the rival for GNN. Buddy remembered all the fights that had broken out between reporters at events. He also remembered the time he raided their office with some of his coworkers and stole all of their paperclips. It was in retaliation for them stealing all the rubber-bands at GNN. Which was to get back at them for stealing all of CGN's staples.

Good times.

"Here." He dug out a bottle of pepper-spray and handed it to the shorter Grumpus. "You'll need this."

"Uh." She looked between him and the large canister. "... Thanks. I think."

"No problem." He took a long drag on his soda as the conversation drifted away from him. Which was just fine, as he was busy brainstorming anyways, writing down plans and ideas into his journal. So far he didn't have a lot, but he'd talk to Filbo about it later and see what they could do.

Maybe a party? Filbo always seemed to like them, back on Snaktooth, so maybe that would be a good way to win him some votes.

The rest of the time passed by in a blur. Events were held, debates, parties, even a couple of bake sales that reminded Buddy of his school days. Speeches were made, each carefully crafted to have the best effect on the small populace of the town.

Wambus was actually a big help with that. As a farmer himself, he knew what to say to get and keep the farmers on Filbo's side. So they ended up conferring with him a lot, which meant going to his and Triffany's house a lot.

He was a surprisingly good cook, honestly. The meals they shared there were some of the best Buddy ever ate. He really would miss those nights when everything was done here, but that was no reason not to continue the "quest" for Filbo.

It was one such night, where Wambus had grilled some delicious steaks and corn on the cobs. He also had some homegrown sauces that he'd brought from Snaktooth, which made Buddy a little uneasy. But, the older farmer seemed to know what he was doing with that so he let it go for now.

"You seem to be getting pretty popular, dear." Triffany was saying to Filbo as Buddy doodled in his journal. He flipped it around to show Wambus his idea of a steak-based Bugsnax, only for the farmer to just grunt in acknowledgement. That was good enough for him though and he put the book aside to eat some more.

"Heh, yeah." Filbo rolled his corn on the cob in some butter. "It's all thanks to Buddy, though. He's doing great on the whole 'campaign manager' thing."

"It's not that hard." Buddy shrugged. "Not like you're running for Minister of the Public or something. It's just a few events to plan, and, like, two debates."

"True, but it still seems like a lot of work." Filbo actually looked kind of concerned, but Buddy waved it off.

"It's... it's really not." He told them, even though it kind of was. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a full night's sleep, but it was definitely before Snaktooth.

"It would be tiring to be around all those people all the time." Wambus agreed. "I could never do that."

"Of course not, dear." Triffany agreed. "That's why you're a farmer."

"Yep."

Buddy watched the exchange with a small smile as Filbo took over the conversation, asking after the sauce crops. Whatever problems the couple had, he was glad they were working them out. He didn't want to even think about what would've happened if their marriage had broken up like...

Well, it wasn't good to dwell on it.

Wambus was right though; it was tiring being a campaign manager. He was almost glad the elections were ending soon, if only so he could get some more sleep. And then focus on finding a real job, as his savings were starting to run a little dry.

Still, as he watched his three companions, he felt content with how it was shaping up. Filbo was excitedly explaining all his plans for being Mayor, from replanting the flowers around the walking paths to finally getting the pot holes fixed. He even started explaining his plans to renovate the park in detail before Wambus finally reminded him to actually eat his steak.

"Oh, heh. Right." He cut a piece off, then opened his mouth to keep talking. Buddy took the opportunity to grab his wrist and shove the fork into his mouth.

"Eat it." He told him firmly, to quiet giggling from Triffany. Filbo shot him a glare, but obeyed, chewing quietly. Buddy then grabbed a forkful of his own steak to chew on, ignoring Triffany's pointed look.

The rest of the night passed without incident. In Buddy's opinion, it ended too soon. But then, it always did. And soon enough Buddy was back at his table in his apartment, drawing up more plans for the campaign. Luckily, the people seemed to really like Filbo. Or maybe they just hated Robbzoni that much more. Either way, according to the mid election survey Filbo was looking to be the popular candidate.

Still, he couldn't relax yet, there was still too much to do. The election itself was tomorrow. People would vote in the morning and the results would be announced both that afternoon, and in the next morning's paper. There would be one last speech before the vote though, and Buddy wanted to make sure it was perfect.

However as the time got later, and he had started the speech pretty later anyways, he found himself unwillingly drawn into sleep. Even as he tried to fight it off with copious amounts of caffeine, he inevitably passed out.

When he woke up, it was to Filbo calling him. In a panic, he grabbed his papers and raced out the door, practically flying down the stairs and into his car. He broke several traffic laws, but he managed to get to Kinsing Town Hall just barely on time. As he ran inside, he tried desperately to sort through the garbled mess of a speech he'd written.

He made his way to the backstage area, where Filbo was talking to... someone. Buddy felt like he should know the other Grumpus, but his exhausted mind just refused to make the connection. In any case, as soon as the Grumpus had left he was rushing up to Filbo, rapidly spewing apologies all the way.

"Sorry, sorry! I think I still have some time to, uh, to-to fix this? Maybe?!" His voice rose an octave and he quickly cleared his throat and tried to laugh off the rising panic. "I was up too late I think. Working. On this." He gave another short laugh, internally wincing at how off it sounded.

"Hey hey, it's okay." Filbo had to grab his shoulders, forcing them down from where Buddy had unconsciously hunched into himself. "I've got this one." He told him. Buddy blinked in surprise, hands lowering and almost dropping his papers.

"... You... you 'got' this?" Just what did he mean by that? Was Buddy unneeded? Had he been unneeded this whole time?

"Yeah. Since you've been working so hard lately, I figured I'd just, y'know, handle my own speech for today. " He gave a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry, I probably should've told you sooner-Oh!" He jumped at something the Grumpus on stage was saying. "There's my cue! See ya later!" He gave a quick wave before rushing off to get on stage, oblivious to Buddy's aborted attempt to reach for him.

'He didn't need me...' Quietly, Buddy dropped his speech into the trash. He then went for the snack table they had set up to get some coffee. 'I don't know why I even tried.'

The speeches were said, and then the voting happened. The surprising part, at least to Buddy, was that as they each voted the other members of the expedition would come up to them. A couple offered a "Good luck" or two, but none of them really left afterwards. They all hung around, and talked.

It made Buddy feel even more like he shouldn't have come. Filbo had plenty of people to keep him company for this, he didn't need Buddy Nobody did anymore.

So he sat just a little bit outside of the group, speaking only when someone talked to him directly. Other than that, he just drank his coffee quietly and wondered when would be a good time for him to leave.

It turned out never. The others never forgot about him for long enough for him to be able to slip away. Floofty in particular seemed intent on watching him, and they weren't blinking. He knew this because he straight up had a staring contest with the mad scientist, and they didn't blink once.

Soon enough, voting had closed and the votes were being counted. Poor Filbo was anxious through the whole thing, but never said anything about regretting running for mayor. Buddy was actually kind of proud of him for that, if he was being honest. He knew how hard the light blue Grumpus could be on himself, and he was glad he had gained some confidence at least.

Even if it was just another sign that he wasn't a help to him anymore. That he wasn't a help to anyone here anymore.

But, when they announced that Filbo had won, that he'd done it and beat out longtime Mayor Robbzoni, everyone present cheered. And not just the ones from Snaxburg, either, but everyone else who was hanging around. As everyone congratulated the new Mayor, and the MC announced when the official swearing in ceremony would take place, Buddy gave a quiet sigh into his coffee. Mentally, he ticked this quest as complete, but no new objectives came to mind.

"Hey, Buddy!" He looked up to see Filbo waving at him, and gave a small wave back. "We'll all going to Gramble's place to celebrate. You coming?"

Would he go? No. There wasn't anything for him to do there and besides, he had to get started on job hunting.

"... You guys go on ahead. I'll... I'll catch up with you later." There. Now he could go home and the others could get started on whatever came next for them.

Filbo hesitated a moment, searching Buddy's face intently. Then he shrugged and turned to follow the others. "Well, okay. If you're sure."

And then he was gone, along with the rest. Buddy put down his still full cup and stood up, dusting his fur off. He went to his car, a tiny little red thing that really needed to be traded in, and drove down the road back to Gippsenburg. He had a stop to make before he went home to his apartment, and then maybe he could finally work on forgetting everything.

#bugsnax #buddy's problem #the journalist #buddy copperbottom #filbo fiddlepie #beffica winklesnoot #wambus troubleham #triffany lottablog #floofty fizzlebean

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littlestarofthewest · 4 years

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God your writing is incredible. Would you consider possibly writing male reader/deputy arthur, maybe featuring a pair of handcuffs or something of the sort?

Thank you for the praise, love! :) I actually squealed back when I first read this request because I have a thing for Arthur with his little star. I hope you don’t mind I made him sheriff instead of a deputy. I kept the handcuffs though :D

Title: Behind Bars | Word Count: 4444 | Rating: Explicit (18+!!!)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x male reader

Tags: handjob, blowjob, anal sex (what can I say, they’re going to town)

You always love coming to a new town. There's new people, new shops, and new opportunities, and all of it is just up for grabs if you know how to do it.

Tonight, it's too late to do much, so you decide to head for the saloon and get a feeling for the locals. After hitching your horse outside, you walk in as inconspicuous as possible. You only use one of the double doors, barely pushing it, your head drawn low but with most of your face still visible.

Over the years, you learned a thing or two about earning people's trust. Acting like a withered traveler who's only looking for work and a hot meal is often the best way to go. Just like you planned, a few eyes turn your way, but the people immediately lose interest.

You approach the bartender and ask for some drink and food before settling down in a corner. You determine that there might be even a few prospects for some naughty fun later on, once the decent guests go home, and the rest have some drinks in them.

After finishing your meal, you get yourself a beer, trying to decide which guy to hit on when the doors of the saloon open. The newcomer is tall, with broad shoulders, his hat covering his face. On his way to the bar, a few people nod or give him a small wave, so he must be one of the locals.

The stranger heads right for the bar, and as he leans on it, you get a nice look at his backside. His jeans sit tight in all the right places, and his shirt clings to him in a way that makes you think about scratching your nails down his whole back.

Without even thinking about it, you make your way to the bar, flanking the stranger to get a better look at him. He pushed his hat up, and while he looks a little weathered, you can't deny that you find him attractive. He's got full lips and a sharp cut jaw that's covered with a nice stubble. You surely wouldn't mind rubbing your face against his while doing some other enjoyable things.

Somehow, the other guys you considered before seem out of the question now. You want this one. At first, you try to come up with a line that could start a conversation with him, but then the stranger does you a big favor. He moves away from the bar, coming your way, and you step in his path in precisely the right moment.

You both collide, and out of surprise, the stranger drops his bottle while you cling to the bar to keep upright. "I'm so sorry," you mumble, your eyes drawn to the shards on the floor, "I didn't see you there."

"It's alright," the stranger says in a calm, deep voice, "it's just a beer."

The game you're playing is always risky. Instead of some fun behind the saloon, it's easy to end up with a black eye. It seems you got extra lucky today.

"Let me buy you a new one," you say, looking at the stranger for the first time. "Please?"

"Sure, if you want to."

"Of course, it's my fault after all," you say while waving the bartender over. "Please, join me."

You order a new beer for the stranger, and he accepts it with a nod before leaning against the bar next to you. "You're not from here."

It's not a question, but you still feel like the stranger is fishing for more information.

"No, I just got into town," you say honestly, right before launching into your perfectly crafted lie. "The farm I've been working on for years got sold when the owner died. Since then, I've been traveling around, looking for work."

The stranger takes a big swig of his beer before stepping back and looking you up and down like a horse he'd like to buy at the stables.

"I know most of the farmers around here. I could ask around if someone needs a hand."

"That would be great," you say with a smile, but it's hard to stay in the role of poor farmhand with the stranger's eyes still on you.

"What are you good at?" the stranger asks. "Gotta sell you somehow, after all."

You know that he's asking because of the work, but the way he looks at you implies so much more. Maybe it's time for you to go on the offensive.

"Lots of things, actually," you say, holding the stranger's gaze. "I'm most handy with a good tool, and I sure know how to ride."

A small smile plays around the stranger's lips, and he holds out his hand to you. "Arthur Callahan."

"Y/N," you say, holding his hand way longer than necessary. Arthur has a warm, firm handshake, and you wouldn't mind having those hands on you.

"Tell you what," Arthur says, "we meet back here tomorrow, and I'll let you know if somebody needs help."

"Thank you so much, that's great."

Arthur nods, taking another swig of his beer before eyeing you up and down again. "Now that business is out of the way, how about we move on to pleasure?"

A tingling feeling rushes all over your body. You had a feeling that Arthur wasn't the type to play around, but it's been a while since you've met someone who cut to the chase like that.

"Pleasure sounds great," you say. "What do you have in mind?"

"We could go out back, and you show me how good you really are with a tool."

You take a sip from your drink before walking past Arthur, your shoulder brushing against his. "Come on then."

By the steps behind you, you can tell that Arthur is following you immediately, and your heart beats faster. You've rarely gotten lucky so quickly, and Arthur surely is a treat compared to your usual partners.

Outside, you walk around the saloon, and Arthur's hand ends up warm on your back. You make it into the nearby trees before he turns you around and you don't waste time either, taking your first taste of Arthur's lips.

It's been a while since you had some fun, and you don't mind Arthur's hands roaming over your body. He's not shy to grab you wherever he wants, and you make good on your promise. Going down on your knees, you open Arthur's pants and pull out his cock, pleased with what you find.

Arthur leans back against the tree with a groan when you take your first taste, licking along his length. With your hand massaging his balls, you suck him into your mouth, your tongue teasing him with little twists.

At first, Arthur lets you do the work, moaning quietly with his eyes closed, but you can sense his desperation. He puts his hand on the back of your head but makes a little circle with his thumb to reassure you that he won't push you.

Not that he has to. You know you're good with your mouth, and having a guy squirm and moan because of you, gets you harder than anything else. Arthur does a great job with that. Harsh breaths make their way out of him, and when you swallow him down all the way, his fingers scrape along your neck.

"Goddammit, boy," he groans, holding you in place while his hips buck.

His grip isn't so tight that you couldn't escape, but being put in your place like this has you moan around Arthur's cock, your own dick twitching in your pants. Arthur runs his fingers along your neck now, almost soothing, drawing back a little.

"Got something for you," he says, giving you a way to escape.

There have been guys where you picked that option, but right now, you want all of Arthur, so you push forward. You take him deep into your throat, and Arthur curses, his fingers clawing against your skin as he comes. You eagerly swallow, and Arthur leans back against the tree with a deep sigh.

"Alright," he says, looking down at you when you give him free, "you do know how to handle a tool."

"Told you," you say with a grin.

Arthur puts himself away while you get to your feet, thinking that you're done, but suddenly Arthur pulls you into another kiss. He turns you both around, pushing you against the tree, and his hand finds its way to the bulge in your pants.

"I think I can find some work for you," he says with a grin, and you wish you could talk back, but his touch feels too good.

Arthur takes care of your pants, and seconds later, you're in his tight grip. He's even pushier than before, giving you barely an inch to move while stroking your cock. Usually, you're not much of a pushover, so it's even more intriguing how Arthur handles you.

He leans in close to bite and kiss along your neck, his hand always in motion. It surprises you that he actually takes the time after he already got off. You had a few guys who couldn't get away fast enough once they were done.

Arthur is the complete opposite. He takes his sweet time teasing you, and you feel like he enjoys watching you squirm as much as you do. You moan against his lips, loving that he kisses you at all, and soon, you claw your fingers into his shirt while you roll your hips to get more friction.

Finally, Arthur's done with the teasing. He strokes you with a clear goal in mind, and you don't care to hold back any longer. You let your arousal take over, drifting quickly to the point of no return until you have to lean back against the tree behind you when your hips stutter, and you come in Arthur's hand.

He leans in to kiss you, still carefully petting you until you come down from your high.

"You're pretty handy with a tool yourself," you say, and Arthur chuckles.

"See you tomorrow then," he says before giving you another quick kiss. You feel like he'll definitely have some work for you, one way or the other.

-------

After being with Arthur, you wouldn't have minded a good night's sleep, but a man has to eat, after all, so you find yourself at the back of a huge farmhouse a few hours later. You heard some guys at the saloon talking about the wealthy owners who once again left for the city to meet up with other rich people and congratulate each other on their wealth.

Judging by the house, there's a good chance there might be some money in it for you, maybe also some jewelry to fence. You're about to crack open the back door when something hard digs into your back. A gun.

"I'm sorry, darling," a familiar deep voice says. "I can't let you do this. Turn around."

You do as you're told and find Arthur pointing a gun at you. You're about to offer him a part of the loot when your eyes fall on a shiny little item at his chest. A sheriff's star.

"You in law enforcement?" you ask in surprise. "Who would have thought."

"I'm not surprised you're here," Arthur says. "I've rarely seen someone who had 'thief' written all over them like you did."

That surprises you even more. You've never met any police who suspected you right away. Usually, you pride yourself on looking innocent.

"Technically, I didn't steal anything," you say, making Arthur chuckle.

"Besides my patience," he grunts. "Are you coming along peacefully, or do I need to restrain you?"

You think back to earlier when Arthur held you against the tree, and his behavior makes even more sense. As sheriff, he must be used to giving orders and keeping people in check. You sure wouldn't mind being handled with the same authority now.

"I don't think I'll be going with you," you say, unable to hide a smile. "I guess you have to restrain me."

Arthur sighs and rolls his eyes, but then he pulls out a pair of handcuffs. "You better not try anything. I wouldn't want to shoot someone as skilled as you."

You hold out your arms to Arthur with a smile, letting him put on the handcuffs. He pulls you along and helps you up on your horse, holding on to your ass way longer than he'd have to without trying to hide it. With Arthur pulling along your horse, you make it back to the town, and he walks you into one of the jail cells.

Out of the handcuffs, you settle down on the hard bench in the cell while Arthur disappears into another room. Taking a deep breath, you consider your options. Arthur's not the type to be messed with, so talking yourself out of this won't work.

The same goes for brute force. You're pretty good in a fight, but Arthur's a mountain of a man, holstering two weapons he's probably well versed in using. You can't see yourself overpowering him.

Not that you necessarily have to. Although Arthur has brought you in, you don't think that he's going to give you much trouble over a tiny robbery. He'll probably let you rot in the cell for a bit before giving you a stern talking to and sending you on your way.

Arthur comes back with a bottle of whiskey and settles down on a creaky chair, putting his feet up on his desk. He takes a swig from the bottle before pulling down his hat over his face, crossing his arms, and ready to settle down for a nap.

You should probably do the same, but instead, you watch Arthur. He has the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, and your eyes follow the veins that run along Arthur's arms. You can't help but wonder what it would be like if he held you down or lifted you up.

The way he sits there is too inviting. You imagine walking over to him and pushing down his long legs so you could crawl on his lap and steal the hat before kissing him, not to mention taking a little ride.

With a sigh and tightening pants, you head to the end of your cell, leaning against the bars. "So, you just gonna sit there, huh?"

Arthur pushes up his hat, watching you for a moment. "Please tell me you're not one of the chatty ones who beg for a gag."

"I can be quite loud," you say with a smile, "and I am good at begging. Unless you keep me quiet. I like that, too."

"Just sit your ass down and take your punishment like a man," Arthur growls.

"Oh, I'd love to take it from you," you say, and when Arthur rolls his eyes, you grab the bars of the cell. "Come on, we both know you can't leave while you have a prisoner, and I'm not going to shut up until you make me. Might as well continue where we left off, have some fun."

Arthur's eyes travel over your body, and heat takes hold of you. You just took a shot in the dark, but he's actually considering your words. After a moment, he walks over to you, handing you the whiskey. You look at him while you drink, your lips tightly wrapped around the bottle.

"Just to be clear, you're not getting out," Arthur says. "We can have some fun, but it's no payment for your release. I don't do that."

Of course, you wouldn't mind getting out of here, but you understand what he means. You're not interested in offering sexual favors for your freedom, either.

"Just some fun," you say, handing back the bottle, "and then I'll sit here and repent."

Arthur's gaze clearly states that he doesn't believe in your penance, but he still nods. "Turn around."

You have no idea what he's going to do, but that's even more of a thrill. You do as he says and can hear him put the whiskey bottle back onto the desk. After that, there are more sounds, but you're not sure what Arthur's doing.

He comes back to you, always out of your field of vision, and you jump a little when he speaks close to your ear. "Put up your arms."

Again, you follow up immediately, and Arthur holds your hands against the bars of the cell before putting the handcuffs back on you. He hangs them up in a way that makes it impossible for you to bring your arms back down.

"Comfortable?" he asks, and you know he's giving you an out if you're not into that kind of thing.

You've never done something like this before, but then again, you've never met someone like Arthur. A tingling feeling washes in waves all over your body, and you're eager to see what else he has in store for you.

"I'm good," you say, much more confident than you feel.

Starting from your hands, Arthur explores your body. He opens up your shirt and runs his hands all over you with a firm touch. Goosebumps erupt on your skin, and Arthur reaches around you to open your pants.

"Are you ready to do some penance?" he asks, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice sinking deep into your bones and setting you alight from inside.

"God, yes," you say, unable to play it cool. "Please punish me, sheriff."

Arthur leans his head against the back of yours for a moment as his hands push down your pants. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass, and he groans in satisfaction.

You wish you weren't so eager, but you can't help but push back, the cold bars digging into your skin as a starch contrast to Arthur's warm hands. He lets go of you for a moment, before pushing your cheeks apart and his fingers find their way to your hole.

Arthur's coated his fingers with something oily and rubs circles into your skin while his other hand rests flat on your chest. You let yourself enjoy the touch, and Arthur soon pushes a finger into you, opening you up a little. When he's satisfied with how your muscles loosen up for him, he retreats his hands, and a few seconds later, his hot cock is pressing against your entrance.

"Relax, darling," he says, and you only notice now how tense you are, too eager for Arthur to take you.

You let out all the pent up air from your lungs, and Arthur pushes into you, making you moan. You always love to be claimed and spread open, and Arthur fills you up in the best of ways. He bottoms out, pressing himself against you as much as the bars of the cell allow it.

He trails soft kisses over your neck and rolls his hips, giving you a first taste of what's to come. His hands are back on your body, touching every inch of your skin that he can reach except for your dick, and you have a feeling that's intentional.

Arthur lets you move instead, waiting for you to show him how rough you want this to go. The problem is that you're way too thirsty for some action, and you move as far away as you can before slamming yourself back against him. Whenever his cock thrusts back into you, you let out eager gasps and moans, begging him to go harder.

"You sure want to redeem yourself," Arthur groans.

"Please, more," you say, reminding him that you're not above begging.

Arthur's hand travels up your chest, his fingers going around your throat. There's no pressure behind it, but the mere touch has you arch your back as much as possible, the muscles in your arms straining from being held up.

Finally, Arthur moves with more purpose, grinding deep into you until you're completely ready to take all of him. Then he goes faster and harder, his fingers closing a little more around your throat. Your cock twitches, leaking with precome, and you're not sure how much more you can take before begging for release.

Arthur hits deep into your core, moaning, and grunting as he takes his own pleasure from using your body. Every sound of him hits you like a whip, wanting for you to do even better. You push back hard against the bars with a whine, and Arthur finally has some mercy on you.

He reaches around and grabs your dick tight, stroking you with purpose. Your whole body tenses again, pushing against all the restrictions, and Arthur bites along your neck before his lips come to rest against your ear again, his hot breath washing over you.

"You're gonna be a good boy for me now and come on my cock," he growls, his fingers closing even tighter both around your dick and your throat.

There's nothing you can do to hold back. As soon as Arthur thrusts into you again, you cry out, your orgasm shooting through you as if you've been struck by lightning. While your muscles tense around Arthur's cock, your dick pulses in his hand, your come trickling to the ground.

While you still catch your breath, Arthur pulls out of you, but his hand is still on your throat as he rubs his cock between your cheeks. You squeeze them tight to give him more friction, and with a few satisfied groans, Arthur follows you over the edge, painting your ass with his come.

He takes a moment to rest his head against you before letting go of you and reaching up to undo the handcuffs. You move your arms and rub your wrists to get some blood flow back while Arthur tucks himself away.

"That sure was fun," you say, and Arthur chuckles.

"I hope you don't get bruises from those bars," he says, peaking at your ass.

You can't help but grin. "So worth it."

Arthur shakes his head but smiles. He gets the bottle of whiskey again and a bandana from his desk so you can clean yourself up. When you're all dressed, he hands you the bottle, leaning against the bars.

"Can I trust that you behave yourself now?"

"God, yes," you say, and take a drink. "You wore me out, sheriff. I'm gonna sleep like a baby now."

Arthur laughs as he takes the bottle from you. "Good. See you tomorrow then."

He walks over into the other room, probably lying down, and you settle down on the small cot in your cell. It's anything but comfortable, but you're so tired, you're out like a light in seconds.

--------

"Rise and shine, darling," a deep voice says close to your ear, and you roll over, trying to make out your surroundings.

Arthur is standing in front of you, blocking the morning sun coming in through the window behind him.

"Morning," you mumble, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and sitting up.

"I fear I can't offer you breakfast, but you're free to go," Arthur says before heading out the door and sitting down at his desk.

You take your time getting up and are still stretching your body after following him outside. Arthur's eyes rest on you the whole time, and for the first time in your life, you actually want to stay in jail.

"Are you sure? I did try to rob that fancy place," you say. "Might be tempted to do it again."

A small smile plays around Arthur's lips. "We both know you're not that stupid."

"I might be," you say before walking over to Arthur's desk and leaning against it. Again, you're tempted to crawl into his lap right then and there. "Considering the following punishment."

Arthur studies you for a moment, then he gets up and puts a hand on your back. "Come with me."

You're intrigued, and even when Arthur leads you to the steps to the basement, you go with him without question. Downstairs is another cell, only dimly lit from the light above. When you approach, a man stumbles to the front.

"Are you alright? I heard horrible sounds yesterday," he exclaims, out of breath as if he's been running for miles. "Did he hurt you?"

Arthur can't hold in a chuckle, and when you look at the man in the cell, a weird suspicion arises in your mind.

"Sheriff Callahan?" you ask, and the man's eyes widen.

"Yes, that's me!"

"Come on," Arthur says, patting your back, and you both head back up the stairs, ignoring the sheriff.

"So, I guess you're not the real sheriff," you say, watching Arthur as he leans against his desk. "Care to explain?"

"My gang and I are working a few jobs around here, and since the sheriff was new in town, it seemed a good idea to replace him," Arthur says as if that's the most normal thing to do. "You're free to go, but I have to ask you to move on. We don't want any trouble that could bring some actual law out here."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Arthur shrugs. "You seem like a smart feller. I'm sure you'll know what's best for you to do."

Although Arthur acts all friendly, you know exactly what he's saying. If you dare to make trouble for them, he'll take measures to stop you. Coming from someone who's been holding the sheriff downstairs, you'd have to be pretty stupid not to heed his warning.

The thing is, Arthur's talk about a gang is interesting. You thought for a while that you'd be better off with some backup, and the idea of staying with Arthur is even more tempting.

"Any chance your gang could use another man?" you ask, bringing out your best smile.

Arthur raises a brow at you. "Depends if he's got something good to offer."

"I'm quite handy with a tool, and I can ride."

"I'm interested," Arthur says, his eyes trained at you as intense as yesterday.

You grab him by the collar, push him over to his chair, and finally crawl on top of him. "I could be your deputy, sheriff, and you could teach me a little something about the law. I think I need another lecture on those handcuffs."

Arthur puts a hand on your neck, drawing you in. "Tempting offer," he says before pulling you in for a kiss.

You feel sorry for the things Sheriff Callahan is going to hear now.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 smut #my writing #nsft #Anonymous

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mememanufactorum · 4 years

Text

Halo: Reach quote starters

* FEEL FREE TO SHARE AS YOU PLEASE, NO CREDIT NEEDED. CHANGE PRONOUNS OR ANYTHING ELSE AS DESIRED.

-Noble Actual-

“You read his file?”

“Anyone claim responsibility?”

“Consider it done.”

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re stepping into some shoes the rest of the squad would rather leave unfilled.”

“I’m glad to have your skill set, but we’re a team. That lone wolf stuff stays behind.”

-Winter Contingency-

“Just get me under the hood.”

“You get a chance, maybe you can ask them.”

“I’m lonely already.”

“Shoot down attempts are likely, so keep your distance.”

“Let’s stay focused. Watch your sectors.”

“Let’s check it out.”

“I want your eyes in the sky.”

“Why are we not seeing explosives residue?”

“There’s a lot of blood on the ground.”

“Looks like there’s nothing here. Let’s move on.”

“You have permission to engage, but be selective. We don’t need to telegraph our presence.”

“Go in quiet. I’m right behind.”

“On your knees, now!”

“They’re not rebels, they’re farmers. Look at them.”

“What the hell was that?”

“Cheer up, big man. This whole valley just turned into a free fire zone.”

“No disrespect, but don’t we have better things to do than round up strays?”

“We don’t leave people behind.”

“I’ve cut about halfway through the door.”

“Where’s the rest of your unit?”

“Found something.”

“I’ll take that. Not your domain.”

“It’s all right. We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“Keep still, and I’ll release you.”

“Flush ‘em out. I’ve got you covered.”

“You’re in my light.”

“What’s your name? Do you live around here?”

“Your accent sounds familiar.”

“Big man forgets what he is sometimes.”

“Best not touch anything. You wouldn’t want to ground this place.”

“May God help us all.”

-ONI Sword Base-

“Regrettably, my efforts to obtain relevant data on enemy forces has been unsuccessful.”

“Let’s knock some heads!”

“I doubt that very much.”

“Can’t do this on my own!”

“Are you havin’ fun yet?”

“Beautiful, ain’t it. Someone should take a picture.”

“Nice work, by the way.”

“I aim to please.”

“Been all hers half my life.”

“I requested your assistance and do not need reports on events that occur on my own doorstep.”

“It’s been too long.”

“What have you done with my armor?”

“Just some… Additions I’ve made.”

“Perhaps you could shed some light on his death.”

“We had other, more urgent matters to attend to.”

“Before you ask, I was alerted the moment you tried to access its contents. As I am with any unauthorized tap.”

“I could send you to the brig for interfering with my work.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Just making a reading suggestion.”

-Nightfall-

“It’s starting to get crowded up here.”

“Direct action is always necessary.”

“Here. You may need these.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“Looks like we’ve really pissed them off.”

“Give us a hand! Bastards just keep coming!”

“Little more action than we’re used to.”

“What are you doing here? Whole area’s supposed to be evacuated.”

“Didn’t like leaving it to someone else to protect our home, so we came back.”

“You know this stuff is stolen.”

“What? You gonna arrest me?”

“Gonna steal it back.”

“That’s no strike force, it’s an invading army.”

“If we’re gonna smother this thing, we need to go in hard and fast.”

“Sun will be up in a few hours… And it’s gonna be a very busy day.”

-Tip of the Spear-

“Might want to hold on to something!”

“We shouldn’t stay here.”

“I’ll hold these bastards off.”

“Have a nice day.”

“One way to get their attention! Hang on to your teeth!”

“No, no! Somebody tell me this ain’t happening!”

“We need to get out of here now!”

-Long Night of Solace-

“Forty-eight hours? That’s imminent?”

“Uh-oh. Who’s your money on this time?”

“You always pick her.”

“She’s always had him dialed in.”

“That thing’s crushing us and we’re waiting for backup? They’ll be backing up a graveyard.”

“You’re preaching to the converted.”

“I know that look.”

“You can say no.”

“You don’t even want to hear it?”

“...Fine. I’ll hear it.”

“And this is relevant… How?”

“Not the word I would use.”

“Don’t cut yourself.”

“This sanctioned?”

“What do you think?”

“Thank you for sharing.”

“As a soldier in the field, I couldn’t possibly have access to those kinds of resources.”

“You’re scary, you know that?”

“Good luck with that.”

“You’re the one who’s asking him.”

“Oh, there’s no way in hell he’s gonna go for this.”

“Some plans are too good to say no to.”

“Show them what you can do!”

“This breaks my heart…”

“Discourage the curious.”

“Hear that? I’ll be all by my lonesome back here. Make it quick, would ya?”

“Nothing we can do.”

“At your earliest convenience.”

“Damn it… So it’s gonna be like that.”

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“And the good news?”

“That was the good news.”

“That’s a one way trip.”

“We all make it sooner or later.”

“Time has come to return the favor. Don’t deny me this.”

“Tell ‘em to make it count.”

-Exodus-

“You got to be kidding me.”

“Damn, how do you stop that thing?!”

“Help! Somebody help us!”

“They’re coming! They’re after us!”

“Come on! Let’s go!”

“What are those things?!”

“Somebody shut that damn thing off!”

“What the hell is taking this thing so long?”

“Glad you’re on our side.”

“City’s been under siege for the last five days.”

“Guess some of us don’t like leaving a job half-finished.”

“Son of a bitch! I can’t watch this…”

“How’s the day so far?”

“Just keeps getting worse, huh?”

“You saved a lot of lives today.”

“He didn’t make it.”

-New Alexandria-

“Sorry I came alone.”

“Make him proud.”

“I said back off, you nasty son of a bitch!”

“Damn! Look how they move!”

“Look at this place. Used to be the crown jewel… Not anymore.”

“Hey, you made it!”

“It’s a regular family reunion.”

“Keep ‘em. He gave ‘em to you.”

“I’ll honor him my own way.”

“The big man was sentimental…”

“He gave his life thinking he just saved the planet. We should all be so lucky.”

“I hear what I hear.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You want to know if we’re losing?”

“I know we’re losing! I just want to know if we’ve lost.”

“Keep it brief.”

-The Package-

“We’re gonna have to thin ‘em out, or we’ll be way too popular.”

“We’ve got a job to do, so let’s stay focused and get it done.”

“Looks like they got themselves cornered.”

“They were committed to the position.”

“I’m going with cornered. There’s nothing here.”

“If we’re supposed to blow this place, this ain’t the spot to do it from.”

“I didn’t bring my shovel.”

“Alright, we came this far.”

“Apologies for the unusual security measures, but the stakes demand it.”

“Yes, well, as they say, news of my death has been greatly exaggerated.”

“Not sure I understand.”

“Whatever we’re doing down here, we better do it quick.”

“I don’t think you understand. We’re out of time.”

“Bury any of it, and you bury mankind’s best chance for survival!”

“Please. Buy me all the time you can.”

“What is this stuff?”

“Her measure of you carries as much weight as my own… Perhaps more.”

“Mankind is outmatched.”

“An apt question if there were somewhere else to place our hope. There is not.”

“Do you have it?”

“Say the words, please.”

“I have it.”

“I require no escort.”

“Make sure nothing falls into enemy hands.”

“I’ll do what’s necessary.”

-The Pillar of Autumn-

“You are alarming me.”

“Not sure how long she’s gonna stay together.”

“Don’t wanna hear it.”

“Go with him. It’s a ground game now.”

“It’s been an honor.”

“I’ll do what I can to draw their fire.”

“She made the right choice.”

“Stay low, let me draw the heat.”

“You think we got time to walk over there?”

“You don’t have the firepower!”

“I’ve got the mass.”

“Hit ‘em hard, boss.”

“You’re on your own.”

“They’ll be remembered.”

“Who’s next?!”

“I’m ready! How ‘bout you?!”

“We gotta get the hell out of here!”

“I have the gun.”

“Good luck to you.”

“Good guns.”

-Lone Wolf-

“Our enemy was ruthless. Efficient. But they weren’t nearly fast enough.”

“Our victory – your victory – was so close… I wish you could’ve lived to see it.”

“Your body, your armor – all burned and turned to glass. Everything, except your courage. That, you gave to us, and with it, we can rebuild.”

#Halo Reach #Halo #roleplay meme #roleplay prompt #rp meme #rp prompt

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amberskywrites · 4 years

Text

A Perfect Match

Requested by @tina0555! This was incredibly fun to do, and I hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link || Masterpost

Pairing: Abigail/Farmer (No gender specified for farmer)

Fandom / Genre: Stardew Valley / Fluff

Summary: You return your gaze to the hills flashing by, fiddling with your half of a soul charm idly as you let your mind wander. Things already looked much more peaceful here, and when you spotted a sign saying it was only half a mile to Stardew Valley, well, you couldn't help the excitement that started to bubble in your heart.

Who knows, maybe you'd find that other half here.

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

You stare at the charm resting comfortably on your chest as the hours drag by. You weren't sure what you were getting yourself into, going to Stardew Valley, but you dearly hoped it'd be a much better experience than working at Joja. It had never occurred to you that Grandpa had a farm this far from the city- yoba, you never expected him to have a farm at all.

But you were glad that it was now yours. A remote place and a fresh start seemed to be something you desperately needed.

You return your gaze to the hills flashing by, fiddling with your half of a soul charm idly as you let your mind wander. Things already looked much more peaceful here, and when you spotted a sign saying it was only half a mile to Stardew Valley, well, you couldn't help the excitement that started to bubble in your heart.

Who knows, maybe you'd find that other half here.

Your first year in the valley was… an experience. Grandpa's farm had been closer to the mountains than you had been expecting, and you focused mostly on clearing the farm and growing crops. You had met everyone, got into some arguments with the local drunk because of his attitude, and hung around Linus or Willy in your off times when you were tired but it was still too early to sleep. You'd explore the mines on rainy days, and the further you went the more interesting things you found.

Abigail really liked the gems you would find. She was almost as excited as you when you had found a particularly sparkly amethyst! You saved it for her birthday, and she loved it. She was surprised you had even remembered her birthday.

You also got to know Marnie and Robin really well, constantly stopping by to buy a new farm building or supplies for a few of your new animals. Sam and Sebastian also became close friends, especially after you took interest in the band they were starting up.

Around winter, you didn't feel like much of an outsider anymore. Though you spent a lot of time in the mines during the frigid weather, you made sure on Fridays to stop by the Stardrop Saloon. After buying Sam a pizza and handing Sebastian another frozen tear you found, you'd give Abigail quartz, which she'd eat despite you telling her it wasn't good for her.

She'd laugh at your concern as you settle on the small couch beside her, watching the boys play pool and Sam once again having his butt kicked by Sebastian. Abigail talked mostly, complained about all the work she had to do over the weekend. But also some of her plans to go hang out in the forest near Marnie's.

Winter was also the season that you remembered your soul charm, often hidden under your shirt. You had been quite busy, and the only reminder you had a soulmate at all was whenever Alex made a comment about not knowing if he wanted to meet his, or Marnie mentioning how disappointing it was that Lewis wasn't hers despite them feeling like soulmates. Marnie only really talked about soulmates when she was really, really drunk though.

Jodi had her soulmate, a soldier named Kent. You were told he should be coming home soon… you couldn't wait to meet him, after hearing Vincent sounding so excited whenever his father was brought up. And… Jodi and Caroline seemed to be the only two with their soulmates, though Caroline talked less about Pierre unless it was to complain about how he worked too much. Willy claimed he had tossed his charm into the sea, Linus didn't have one for some reason either. Marlon refused to tell you about his when you asked one day, buying a new glow ring since your last one had gone missing. You hadn't asked anyone else about their soulmates. It seemed a bit too personal when you weren't great friends with too many people yet.

Time flew by in your second year, too. You were even busier tending to more crops, going deeper in the mines, and caring for your animals. You also grew much closer to Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian, occasionally joining them to watch them practice when you weren't working or playing the harp with Abigail during the warmer seasons in the mountain.

An autumn one night as you were leaving the beach, you caught Abigail in the graveyard. After chatting for a few moments and showing her the one you always kept with you, in case of monsters, Pierre appeared to tell Abigail Caroline wanted her to help with dinner. You ran after her when she fled the scene and continued to talk about the mines and all the creatures you've encountered. You leave out the fact that you actually kill them.

And the year ends, almost as quickly as the first.

Spring in your third year shook you a bit when Grandpa appeared, evaluating your work and achievements over the last two years. He didn't seem too impressed, which put a damper on your mood at the start of the season.

What did improve your mood though was when one morning you woke up and found a letter from Abigail in your mailbox. Your heart skipped a beat as you read and saw she signed it as 'Abby', something you thought adorable, and you made a mental note to visit her later.

Over the last two years, you had gotten particularly close to Abigail. You loved listening to her talk, enjoyed seeing her eyes dance in excitement as you presented a jewel to her, or told her about one of your adventures… you ended up making it a habit to stop by and say hello when she was in her room, but it'd been a while since you visited her. There was an extra bounce in your step as you got to work.

After a long day of tending to the farm and sparing a trip to the beach to fish, you had almost forgotten to visit Abigail until you saw the letter on your table. You made your way to Pierre's store and walked in just before it was gonna close, and grinned as Abigail pulled you into her room.

She shows off the spirit board she has, and you listen to her explain the multitude of things on it. It isn't until you ask about a certain message - one with some things you can't really read from your place but you do see a drawing of a circle cracked down the middle, lines swirling together from both sides, half of it you think you recognize - and her face flushes a deep red and her words start to fumble until she just rushes you out, bidding you goodnight. You blink as the door to her room slams closed and glance around. Neither of her parents seemed to be around, and you notice it's gotten late, so you make your way home, still confused about what all that was about.

You were about to start on your chores when you were startled by Abigail on your doorstep. She apologized for the night before, and you're still very confused and reassure her it's alright but you don't know if she heard you since she left the farm as soon as she apologized.

It isn't until you're done with feeding your animals and watering your crops do you realize what the drawing on the spirit board was. And why you pointed out that message in particular.

Trying to remember the drawing to the best of your ability, you look down at the charm around your neck. You curse under your breath as you quickly put away your tools and run down the path to Pierre's store. You're pretty sure Abigail will be there, but first you think you should buy something, so you hope Abigail is at least in her room.

Even if your charms didn't match, didn't fit together perfectly… you don't really care. You hoped you weren't jumping to conclusions as you caught your breath, walking into Pierre's store and walking right up to the business man. You smiled as usual, but kept your voice down.

"Is Abigail here?" You ask, and Pierre shakes his head.

"Up by Robin's, I believe. Why, if I may ask?"

You shake your head. "No reason, just... wanted her input on something." You grab some money from your pocket, and lay it on the counter. "But I also wanted to buy something."

After buying what you wanted from Pierre, you force yourself not to rush to the mountain lake where you were told Abigail would be. Looking at your watch, you guessed she was playing her flute, or maybe just sitting under one of the trees.

And once you get there, your mouth runs dry as you approach the purple-haired girl, lost in her own world as she plays her instrument. You take a deep breath, and smile as you tap her shoulder, one hand kept behind your back.

She seems startled, but relaxes as soon as her thoughts catch up and she smiles gently. "Sorry, I didn't expect to see you today. You don't usually come up here on Wednesdays…"

You shrug. "I wanted to talk to you, about what I saw yesterday. And I wanted to ask you something." You watch as her face dusts crimson again, and she doesn't meet your eyes. "I'll leave if you don't want to talk about it, though. And I won't bring it up again if you're uncomfortable with me doing so."

She fiddles with the flute in her hands, playing a silent song with it, maybe to calm any nerves. Abigail had been hoping you wouldn't pursue the topic. But she should've guessed you'd want to talk about it.

"... Alright."

You smile reassuringly, even though you know she isn't watching you. "You doodled our soul charms together, that's what that message was about." Abigail nods.

"I forgot I had it up there, until you pointed it out." She exhales slowly, finally meets your eyes and she relaxes when she finds no disgust in them. "I've done it before, a few times only though, with small crushes on the kids in school… they never ended up being my soulmate, though. So I stopped checking, but still doodled soul charms with mine anyway."

"So, you have a crush on me?" You ask, smile never faltering, your grip on the object behind you tightening just a bit more.

Her face turns a slightly deeper shade of red, and she nods.

"Then, do you want to try dating?"

Abigail's brows furrow, and she's about to ask what you mean until there's a bouquet in front of her. She recognizes it instantly, having helped her father put the bouquet together, and she stumbles over her words for a moment.

"But- but what about our- the charms? You don't want to see if they match?"

You shrug. "If you want, we can definitely see. But even if we weren't soulmates, I would wanna try dating."

Abigail stares at you in silence for a moment, mouth agape as she tries to think of what she wants to say. "But what about our actual soulmates, then?" She asks finally.

"People don't always get together with their soulmate. I mean, just look at Sebastian's parents."

She seems like she's about to say something against that, but changes her mind, and finally, Abigail nods. "Alright."

You brighten a bit. "You'd like to go out?"

Abigail nods again, smile widening as you pass her the flowers and she holds them to her chest. "You picked out one of my favorites."

"Yeah, it was hard getting your dad to stop talking about which ones were the best to try and see if you had told him which ones you liked most." She laughs at that, nodding in understanding. When her laughter dies down, you tilt your head and tap where your soul charm is. "Do you want to see if they match?"

Abigail stares at the charm resting on your chest for a moment before she reaches towards her own, tugging it out from under her shirt and she nods, holding it up. You step close and bring yours up to meet hers.

They fit together perfectly.

#Stardew valley #sdv #sdv abigail #Abigail/player #Abigail/farmer #sdv farmer #sdv player #fanfic #soulmate au #fluff #alternate universe #amberskywrites #ambersky

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somedew-fictions · 4 years

Text

Isn’t Zuzu City - Alex

Alex x Gender Neutral Farmer

1,278 words - sfw - pre-relationship

Alex is standing outside in the fall air under the canopy of tree branches. He had rushed out of his grandparent's house to be alone, subconsciously making his way towards the farmer's house. When he caught himself he stopped walking, now awkwardly standing on the path, eyes closed as he enjoys the brisk air in hopes it will clear his head.

"What are you doing out here?" Someone asks behind him, making his body tense. He turns around quickly to face the farmer standing a distance away from him, coming from the direction of town.

"I... I could ask you the same thing," Alex shoves his hands into his varsity jacket's pockets, wanting to avoid the farmer's questioning.

"I just came back from the mines," the farmer shrugs, lifting the pickaxe in their hand up as evidence. "And this is the path back to my house... So..."

"Yeah," Alex sighs, taking one hand out of his pocket to scratch the back of his head. "That makes sense, actually."

"So what are you doing out here?" The farmer takes a few slow steps towards him, a smile on their face. "Not much out this way other than my farm."

"I... Came to visit you," Alex lies, a cocky smile springing onto his face, his hand dropping down to his side. "I missed that face of yours."

The farmer chuckles, amused. "That doesn't explain why you are just standing here in the middle of the path," they point out, Alex wincing. "You shouldn't lie to me."

"What if I did want to see you?" He asks, the farmer drawing closer.

"Then I'll call you a liar," the farmer moves right past him, their arms hanging at their sides- one hand holding their pickaxe with their sword sheathed at their side. Alex turns around and follows a pace behind the farmer. "So do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Not really," Alex admits. "Just something about old pictures. Yanno, city stuff."

"City stuff," the farmer repeats, shaking their head. "The reason we all get driven out here in the first place." They let out a soft sigh, remembering what drove them over their edge to finally make a change in their life. They glance behind themselves at Alex before looking back ahead. "Can I ask what the pictures were of?"

"Wedding photos of my mom and dad. Baby pictures of me. A few photos of me visiting my grandparents as a kid," Alex lists, something sour in his voice. "Childhood stuff."

So that's what's wrong, the farmer realizes. Knowing there is about three minutes left in the walk, the farmer slows down enough to walk beside Alex, offering him a comforting smile. "I bet some of those photos make you feel really conflicted," they say softly. "Angry and sad. Maybe a little suppressed nostalgia."

"I hate him," Alex mumbles, a steadfast look in his eyes. "He is the reason I have to live out here."

"I know, but..." The farmer thinks for a moment, choosing what direction they want to take. "I know it isn't Zuzu City, but there is a lot of stuff out here that I think you look over."

"Like what? What has this town ever done for me?" Alex growls, his anger beginning to slowly build before the farmer's eyes. Alex isn't an angry person- he can be arrogant and cocky, but never angry. Something about those photos really tore into his skin.

The farmer frowns at him, ready to extinguish the flame of his anger. "Gave you a supportive community to grow and live; a safe place your dad can't ever ruin." They give him the answer bluntly, knowing he wouldn't come to the conclusion himself. "Your grandmother loves you more than life itself and I think you are ignoring all the people in town who are always there for you, supporting you in your dreams. Your father never did, but that's why you have us." Alex doesn't seem to be listening, hiding his anger from her, nurturing it to allow it to grow. He looks almost as if he is irritated at the farmer talking.

The farmer abruptly stop walking, their house in sight down the path. Alex slowly stops a few paces later, turning around to face them. The farmer takes a deep breath, choosing the simplest words possible in hopes Alex will actually listen- to actually accept their advice instead of believing he is tough enough to swallow his feelings.

"This place isn't Zuzu City, Alex. There is no hierarchy for you to climb or competition for you to win. I know that's hard for you to understand- understand that everyone in town wants you to achieve your dreams... But we do. And Alex, if you never moved here, I would have never met you because frankly, Zuzu City is the worst place on Earth. I left their for a reason; because people like your father deserve to live there. But people like us? All those people in town supporting you? We live out here because we realized just how rotten that place makes people."

Alex doesn't reply, listening the farmer's heavy breathing. Their little speech was said all in one breath, their face hot with annoyance. He mulls over a response, wondering if he should reply at all.

He thinks back to his grandma, the smile on her face as she took out photos of Alex when he was a kid, sitting at the beach with his mother and fishing with his father, or sitting with his grandfather before he had to start using a wheel chair. She wasn't glorifying the days his father was around- she was the one who forced Alex away from him in the first place after all, but was reminiscing in her daughter's last years alive, her world swallowed by the two men in her life that made her happiest: her husband and son.

"You're right," Alex says, his chin dropping to his chest. "I... I'm sorry for making you upset."

"Its okay, Alex," the farmer sighs, approaching him. "I'm glad I met you here in the valley, you know? This town wouldn't be the same without you." They stop in front of him and offer a genuine smile, one he returns. "Its late. My house is right there so why don't you head home? Your grandma is probably worried."

Alex nods slowly, knowing the farmer is right. He is about to let them pass when his body tenses, his hand reaching out to grab their arm. "Wait- I..." The farmer raises an eyebrow, looking back at him slightly startled. Alex quickly lets go of their arm, blushing in embarrassment. "Thanks, I mean; for helping me see the silver lining. I'm glad I came here and met you, too."

The farmer smiles kindly at him, giggling softly. "Goodnight, Alex," they say simply, knowing to leave it at that. They turn around and continue down the path to their home, pickaxe still in hand.

Alex watches them enter their house before turning around to make the ten minute walk back to town. He doesn't know what he is going to tell his grandma when he gets back- maybe he will offer to look through the photos with her more willingly this time and see them through her eyes, or tell her about this new point of view and that he is sorry.

Either way, Alex walks home, glad that deep down he knew the farmer would have just the right thing to say. Pelican Town isn't so bad after all, he has to admit. Its people are always there for him, even a new resident like the farmer.

#alex #sdv #stardew valley #imagines #sdv imagines #ficlet #stardew valley imagines #alex sdv #alex stardew valley #alex imagines #sdv alex imagines #sdv ficlet #stardew valley ficlet #gender neutral farmer

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bat-besties · 4 years

Text

Rain towards morning

AO3

Chapter One

Platonic Roman and Virgil

A friendship grows between Roman, a lonely farmer, and a mysterious stranger. But when Virgil's past catches up with both of them, Roman digs himself in farther than he imagined as his heroism is cruelly tested.

Edited by the lovely @mariniacipher!

5.5k

Roman met Virgil in the gentle mist of morning, dew bejewelling every blade of grass and drooping flower in the meadow sloping down from his farm. He occasionally found people sleeping under the hedgerows, most of them travelling for work, but usually they made an effort to shelter themselves from the elements.

This man lay in the middle of the field, droplets of dew clinging to his eyelashes and fingers dug into the earth at his sides. He was pale as the fog over the hills in the distance, and his thin white shirt fluttered in the breeze. Deep eyebags shadowed his eyes.

"Hello!" Roman called over to him, hurrying down the slope to get to him.

The man startled awake and scrambled back.

"And what the fuck do you want?" he snapped, wide eyes darting back and forth between the gate and Roman.

Roman halted. "Nothing! Nothing!" He laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. "You looked like a corpse."

"Thanks."

"No, like..." Roman cut himself off with a shake of his head. "I was concerned! You're not dressed for the weather."

The man ducked his head as he snickered, damp hair hanging into his face.

Roman was thoroughly confused but, well, there was no use getting hung up on that. "Do you want breakfast?"

"What?"

"Breakfast!" Roman said brightly. "My farm is just up on the ridge. Come and have breakfast with me."

"For...what?"

"Free?" Roman tried.

The man unfolded, rising onto his feet with an airy grace. He was taller than Roman, but looked thin enough to be blown away with a strong breeze. "Free," he repeated warily. "Just as a gift?"

"I promise," Roman said, raising up his right hand. "On my honour!"

"I'll settle on wagering your farm instead."

Roman wasn't entirely sure whether that was a joke but, well, he wasn't planning to play any mind games over eggs. "On my farm, you'll owe me nothing."

"Okay," the stranger said. He wrapped an arm over his chest. "Thank you."

"No problem," Roman said, setting back home. "Where did you come from?"

"The, uh, road. Just trying to make the next town." Roman glanced at the man's hands, delicate and pale as though he'd never done a day's work in his life.

"Which town?"

"Do you usually ask so many questions?" The stranger complained, though he didn't sound too annoyed.

"Just making conversation," Roman said lightly.

"Huh. Alright."

He led him back up the hill, to his home. Roman's house was comfortable and cosy, a haven of well-fitted logs and patterned curtains, and had smoke drifting from the chimney. With a flourish, he opened the door. "Come on in and dry off."

At that, the stranger flinched back. "Oh, I- I don't really- wouldn't that be- I don't want to impose."

"Sir, I think you need to calm down just slightly," Roman said. "It's alright!"

The stranger bristled like a cat, drawing his shoulders up to his ears. "Maybe I should go."

"I’m confused," Roman admitted.

"I'll go," the stranger repeated more firmly. He turned away from Roman, looking at the misty mountains in the distance. "Sorry."

"Can you...tell me what’s wrong?"

"I won't sit down and join you for a meal."

"At least get dry?" Roman offered. "You're soaking wet."

The man rubbed the back of his neck with an earth-stained hand. "I'm fine out here."

Roman closed his eyes for a moment and prayed for the strength to not insult the man, even though he badly wanted to. But, he did not have that luck. "I came to give you breakfast, not play cryptic-crossword puzzles with someone as pale as the paper they’re printed on."

The stranger let out a huff of laughter. "Fine. Whatever. It's the house. I don't want to be in it."

"What's wrong with my house?" Roman asked indignantly.

"Nothing!" the stranger assured him. "Nothing. I just...prefer not to have a roof over my head; dumb, I know."

"A little," Roman admitted, "but nothing I can't work with. Is that why you were...sleeping under the stars?"

The stranger made a sound of assent.

Roman shrugged. "You could’ve just said so. Sit! Sit down on the doorstep and I'll get you something!"

The stranger folded down to sit cross-legged a few steps away from the doorway. "Thank you. I do appreciate it."

"Chivalry is my middle name! Well, it's really Patton, after my dad, but we don't need to quibble about particulars."

That made the stranger laugh again, and Roman felt a rush of excitement at the sound. Maybe knighthood was out of bounds, but he liked to romanticise his father's hospitality. Now that he was an adult he was finally free to help others in the most dramatic way he could.

Roman crouched to stoke the fire, keeping the door open to talk to the stranger. "So, where are you hailing from?"

"Here and there."

"How about your family?"

"All over. Yours?"

"A few valleys over, actually," Roman said, cracking an egg into a pan with a pleasant sizzle. "We came over to stake this land for me when I was twenty."

"Anyone else here?"

"No, no-" Roman carefully put in a second egg. "I would have liked to live out here with friends, but everyone else had their own plans: marriage, town jobs, helping their families."

The stranger shrugged. "Eh, friends are overrated anyhow.”

“What’s better? Romance?” Roman scoffed.

“Spirits, no.” The stranger pulled a face. “Not my thing either. Friends are nice; being alone is nicer.”

“How stoic and standoffish off you.”

The stranger laughed. “I’ll be your friend here, then, for a little while.”

“That might be nice,” Roman said softly.

A playful breeze blew through the grass. He sneezed as it tumbled inside and tickled his face. He reached for a plate and piled it with the eggs, some bread, and cheese.

"Do you have a name?" the stranger asked him.

"Roman- unless I misremember."

"I'll remember."

"That's a little ominous," Roman said with a laugh.

"No, it's not," the stranger said simply. "Hospitality is not a bad thing to be remembered for." He stood up to take his plate from Roman, then settled back across from him.

"How about your name?" Roman asked.

"What begins with the end and ends with the beginning?" the stranger said.

"What?" Roman said slowly. "I don't know."

"Figure it out," the stranger said with a smirk, tearing off a hunk of his bread and popping it in his mouth. "Fuck," he breathed out, face suddenly losing about ten layers of cryptic protection and instead devoting itself to staring lovingly at the bread.

The shift in behaviour startled a laugh out of Roman. "It's still warm from baking."

"It's not bad," the stranger said, tearing off another piece and dipping it into the yolk of his egg with one hand while feeding himself some cheese with the other.

Roman decided to leave him free to eat, puzzling over what in the world began with the end and ended with the beginning. An ouroboros?

By the time the stranger had wolfed down the whole plate -which admittedly didn’t take very long - and regained a bit of colour in his face, Roman was as stumped as he had been in the beginning.

"So? What is your name? A...full stop, maybe?"

"Fucked if I know," the stranger said cheerfully. "I just didn't want you to bother me while I was eating. You can call me Virgil."

"You could have just asked me not to talk to you! You said you would be a friend!"

The stranger shrugged, almost embarrassed. "Thought you liked the cryptic thing." He answered after a beat too long.

"You could be more polite since I home-cooked that meal for you," Roman said indignantly.

"I don't owe you anything for the meal," Virgil said coolly. "That includes manners."

Roman rolled his eyes. "My deepest apologies."

"Don't need 'em." Virgil got to his feet and handed Roman his plate back. "Thank you very much for the meal. Genuinely."

"Well, keep the windows open for luck to blow in," Roman said. "Or the, uh, metaphorical windows anyhow."

"And open to let it take its leave again," Virgil finished the traditional farewell. "Literal windows for you."

"Do you want anything for the road?" Roman asked. "I could pack something?"

"Nah, I'll be fine," Virgil replied. He tugged the edges of his shirt over his wrists and slouched before he gave Roman a parting salute. "Bye, Roman."

Roman watched Virgil's back disappear down the road as he washed up, then threw open his windows to air his home as he began his day in earnest.

Roman did not expect to see Virgil again, as was the way of these things.

But a month or so later, as he dragged his chair outside to watch the sunset, a figure in white made its way up to his farm from the road. The evening was still and heavy, no clouds in the sky to block the oppressive heat.

The figure stopped just in front of him. "Hey Roman," he said, cupping the back of his neck. "I'm Virgil. Again."

"I remember you," Roman said, surprised. "No rooves, no manners, no cloak- if I'm not wrong?"

Virgil laughed through his nose. "And I still haven’t got any of those."

"What brings you here?"

"You do, I guess-" Virgil was still just wearing his white shirt, but he lifted it up to reveal a hidden leather pouch he'd tied around his middle. He opened it up and pulled out a handful of shining silver, which he tipped into Roman's palms. "A gift."

"Shrieking spirits, that's a lot!" Roman said. "I can't take that just for breakfast!"

"It's not a payment." Virgil folded his arms in offence. "I just said it's a gift."

Roman frowned. "But why?"

"Good things should come to good people," he said simply.

"Don't you want to keep that?" Roman's brow furrowed. "At least buy a cloak, dude, it won't be summer forever. You could even buy land-"

"I don't want land, or a cloak." Virgil put a clammy hand over Roman's and closed the farmer's fingers over the silver. "Good things for good people, that's the only aim."

"...you're a good people."

It wasn't clear if Virgil was shaking his head to dispel his laughter or because he disagreed."Just take it. Okay?"

Roman did. "How did you come by it?"

"It’s a gift.” Virgil looked at Roman as though that settled the matter completely.

How would a vagabond know someone giving gifts like that? “From whom?” “A friend.”

"Is it stolen?" Roman said nervously. "I don't want to get in trouble with the law. That would not be a good thing."

"Promise you won't," Virgil said breezily.

"Okay," Roman said. "Okay." He turned over the smooth pieces of silver in his hand. "Luck blew in, I suppose..."

"It blew in for you, because I let it go out," Virgil said, as easily as he finished the farewell before. "That's the way to go."Overhead, there was a slight movement in the sky; an unreliable promise of rain and reprieve from the heat. "How's your farm?" Virgil asked.

"Alright," Roman said. "The soil is a little dry for the time of year, but I'll manage if it's back to normal soon. Hoping they bring me rain."

"It's all we can do," Virgil said with a nod. "Well, use the silver for whatever."

"Stay a little while?" Roman asked him. "Come on! We should celebrate! I have food leftover from dinner- I should thank you!"

Virgil wavered, then moved to tiptoe to reach the windows near Roman’s head. Time and food, presumably, had flushed his skin the same pink of the distant sunset against his white shirt- bang.

He jumped as Virgil opened his shutters.

Without a word, he then set out to the other side of Roman's house, and there was a corresponding bang as he opened the shutters on that side too.

Virgil made a full circuit to where Roman was sitting in thorough confusion. "For the spirits," he said simply. "You need rain, don't you? Silver won't buy you that."

"I must admit, Virgil," Roman said. "that you are beginning to worry me somewhat. Luck is a superstition. I do love a good story, but that doesn’t mean you have to go around just giving people things."

"Why not?" Virgil shrugged. "I could eat, if there’s food going. And your meadow is nice."

"I can keep the doors open," Roman offered. "And just drag my mattress to the doorway for you to have a decent rest, at least."

"No rooves," Virgil said.

"...can I at least ask why that is? Or how long you've done that?"

"No and no," Virgil said, crossing wrapping his arms over his chest.

"Maybe it's an avoidance thing," Roman posited. "If you tried a little bit of a roof-"

"No rooves," Virgil repeated firmly. "No rooves, no walls."

Roman got up from his chair and went into his kitchen for food. "No manners," he added, in a teasing tone. "And no cloak. Got it, got it-"

"Took you long enough." But Virgil was mollified.

By the time Roman came out, Virgil was sitting on the chair watching the sunset, the light of it reflecting against his skin.

"Seat-hog," Roman said, handing him the plate.

Virgil sat cross-legged and rested the plate in the middle of his legs. There was some spicy sausage, leftover cold potatoes, and a pile of preserved fruit with a little wall of bread crust around it so he could save it for dessert.

Virgil happily dipped a potato in the fruit, eliciting a pained noise from Roman.

"Why would you mix those?" he cried.

"Why not?"

"But why?"

"Why not?" Virgil repeated, carefully sandwiching some fruit between a piece of sausage and potato.

"But you're- it's all wrong-"

"Don't knock it till you try it."

"But I made a little battlement to keep the fruit separate-"

"I just gave you silver, don't tell me what to do."

"I tried so hard to make it nice-" Roman said with a melodramatic sigh.

"But I don’t care," Virgil said with a mischievous grin. "Fuck you." He popped his stack of food in his mouth, seeming to relish the clashing flavours and teasing Roman in equal measure.

Roman threw his hand to his chest with a dramatic noise of offence.

Virgil laughed, leaving off the fruit and tucking in properly. He had the same single-minded focus on this meal as he had the last one, an unabashed joy in it which, like anything else about him, was just to the left of normal.

"Have you been having enough to eat?" Roman couldn't help but ask.

"Me? Oh, sure," Virgil said. "I've been travelling here and there; don't worry about me."

"Any plans?" Roman asked, settling on the doorstep since it seemed Virgil wouldn't move from his chair. "Future dreams? For me- I want to set up an orchard! And long term...I don't know, I want to do something big and grand and heroic. It varies on the day, really."

There was quiet for a moment as Virgil finished his mouthful, then he stretched his arms upwards and held it for a moment, content. "I might head up the mountains, tomorrow. See what's there."

"Nothing else? Really?"

A breeze brushed against Roman's ankles, although the rest of the night was still, and it wound upwards to ruffle Virgil's hair before it disappeared again. "Maybe I'll find more good things for good people. Can't promise anything, though."

"How old are you, even?"

"Why's it matter?"

"Well, you won't be young forever," Roman pointed out. "I'm all for great and noble journeys! But- I see people in old age sleeping outside like you with no money, no savings, nowhere to go-"

"Great," Virgil interrupted him. "Maybe I'll meet some more of them and find some silver for them."

"Not my point." Roman was uncharacteristically serious.

Virgil ignored him and returned his focus to the food.

Roman was beginning to feel distinctly guilty for the silver in his pockets. "Even if you don't want to get tied down, at least get… get a horse, or something-"

"I'm happy," Virgil said firmly. "Okay?"

"On your own head be it," Roman grumbled.

"Which it is."

"You're insufferable," Roman said lightly.

"I know."

Roman waited until Virgil had finished up before he broached conversation again. "How far away have you gone? I've not been beyond these few valleys, I was hoping to travel more, but," He shrugged. "the farm needs me."

It was the right question. Virgil tilted his head and considered it. "I've been to the sea on both sides. Up to the mountains in the West. Didn't like the desert. Don't do cities anymore, but I went to as many as I could before now."

"The capital?"

"Yup."

"You have to tell me about it!" Roman said, excited. "The theatres and museums and...all of it."

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, I'm- what do you want to know? I can't tell you anything a book wouldn't. Less, probably."

"What's your opinion?"

"I, uh- I liked the marketplaces. The people and the colours, and the more exotic goods...the theatre was alright too. I like tragedies, war stories, that kind of thing."

"Have a favourite?"

"...I dunno."

"What do you like about them?"

"Sad and scary stuff can be interesting, cathartic, you know- I think that you can do more with them, I guess."

"I can see that!" Roman said. "I like a happy ending though."

"I think they're overrated."

"Do you have a favourite sad ending?"

Virgil began to talk more about a famous love tragedy and its subversions of genre, and Roman, genuinely interested, drew him out on the subject until it was exhausted. Just as it seemed they were done, Virgil ventured a story about an incident on the Northern Road of his own accord, and the flow of the conversation continued.

Once the sun had well and truly fallen down from the sky, Roman began to yawn. "I might have to turn in; there's work tomorrow. Sleep over, let's have breakfast together tomorrow."

"Sure," the vagrant said, pushing himself to his feet with a fluid movement. "I'll see you then."

Roman resisted the urge to offer a blanket, and waved Virgil goodnight. He closed his door but not his shutters, figuring he might as well invite in the spirits of luck and rain. When he was younger he’d wanted to believe in them, leaving the shutters open and sometimes waking up with his dad’s homemade candy under the pillow. But now he knew that if they weren’t kids’ fairy stories they were at most metaphors about opportunity and the vagaries of fortune.

Roman woke up to gentle pattering on his roof and the wind spitting raindrops onto his face through the windows. He stumbled up to bang the windows shut before tucking himself back in.

He felt like he was forgetting something. Had he fed the chickens...

Virgil! Oh, that was it. He tugged his bedclothes into a cloak as he opened up the door and peeked out at his fields.

There was still a pale figure lying in the middle of the meadow.

"Fool," Roman said, between fond and exasperated, and checked the sky for what the pattern of rain would be that day. Not long; it seemed. The clouds were already mostly centred above the farm; the distant sky was blue and clear.

He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Virgil!" he yelled over the pattering rain. "Oh, Virgil!"

The figure startled up, throwing his hands over his head as if the rain would beat him.

"Virgil!" Roman yelled again. "At least find a tree?"

After a moment, Virgil uncurled and looked over to where Roman was.

"What?" he snapped.

"It's raining!" Roman called, a little redundantly. "Find a tree!"

"Find your own bloody tree!" Virgil threw himself back onto the ground, pointedly turning away from Roman.

"I am going to murder him," Roman muttered to himself. "The art of chivalry! The gratitude of a guest! Oh, but these things are so passé..."

He closed the door and started getting ready for the day. Pulling on his cloak, Roman headed out to feed his chickens. He went through his morning chores, trying to focus on the smell of petrichor and damp earth as well as the hiss of rain in the way his father had taught him. Simply paying attention to his senses helped him to dispel anger or anxiety.

He had just scattered the feed when- "Rabid roosters!" Roman screamed as Virgil appeared at his elbow.

"I've not got time for breakfast," Virgil said. He looked like the victim of a poorly-executed drowning. "I'm leaving."

"All because I woke you up?" Roman asked, pressing a hand over his racing heart. "No need to try and shock me!"

"Didn't try, I succeeded," Virgil said with a small smile. "And no, I do actually have to leave."

"For what?"

"For nothing; I'll go for free," Virgil quipped. He turned and walked away. No wonder he had surprised Roman; he made barely any noise as he walked.

"I think you quite like being dramatic," Roman said. "And I think that you could do quite well in one of your tragedies, you have a talent for theatrics."

"Oh really?"

"I'm sorry I woke you up- I just didn't want you to be soaked through. Is that so evil?"

Virgil spread his arms. "Because I wasn't soaked through before."

"Just stay for breakfast," Roman asked. "Why are you making such a big deal of it?"

Virgil's eyes narrowed. "I'm not; you are."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the meadow," Roman said, sotto voce.

Virgil mimicked his tone, widening his eyes for emphasis. "Someone woke up being yelled at."

"Fine!" Roman said. "Keep the windows open for luck to blow in."

Virgil folded his arms. "And open to let it leave again."

So Virgil left in anger, and Roman was left to mull over it as he startled the chickens with a handful of violently thrown feed.

The third time Virgil came was only three weeks later.

It was a day where the sky seemed higher than usual, wide and blowsy with scudding clouds in patchwork colours. Wind rippled an ocean of grass into rolling waves.

Roman was pacing the perimeter of his property, checking the fences for damage, when a distinctive white-shirted figure came into view on the road from the mountains.

"Hey." Virgil saluted Roman with two fingers as he reached him, leaning over his fence. "Are we good now?"

Roman blew out a breath with a laugh, waving a hand. "That was ages ago, ages and ages and ages."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound that good."

"I admit, I was somewhat...perturbed."

"Sorry.” Roman figured that was as much of an apology as he’d get, but at least it sounded sincere. “I was passing this way and I figured...might as well say hi."

Well, it wasn't like Roman got a lot of visitors. "Hi," he said, "I'm a little busy for now, but you can come around with me."

Virgil hopped over the fence with ease. "Okay."

Roman carried on his stroll. "So- did you see those mountains?"

"I did," Virgil said, "The sunrise was pretty from up there, but I don't know if all the climbing was worth it."

"I guess you have to do the climbing to know."

Virgil looked at Roman properly. "Smart."

"Oh. Thank you." Roman grinned. "And I used your silver to plant my orchard. I'm starting with apples."

"Nice."

That time, Roman didn't so much as offer for Virgil to come inside, and he let Virgil sleep in as long as he liked out in the meadow.

It rained after Virgil left, and Roman began to wonder.

A few months later, Virgil came back. He gave Roman sticks of cinnamon from distant markets for his apples, and wouldn't take a blanket for the night although his skin was freezing to the touch.

Maybe if they had to spend more time together then Virgil's contrary ways and Roman's short fuse would spark fights of more consequence. As it was, if Virgil left after a fight then both were over it by the time he returned for a plate of food and some conversation. They both liked theatre, they could bicker like anything, and friendship grew easily between them.

It was an autumn day, and Roman was picking apples when he heard the lightest of footsteps behind him.

"They look good."

Roman turned with a grin and tossed an apple down to Virgil. "All thanks to you. How are you?"

"Alright." Virgil bit into the apple and gave Roman a thumbs up. "Not bad."

"Not bad? Rubies are not redder! The grass is not more green! Honey not swee-" The ladder wobbled as Roman threw his hand out, and Virgil rushed forward to grab the base. Roman teetered in the air for a moment, until he grabbed onto a branch.

"Idiot," Virgil snapped, though Roman could hear the worry in his voice.

"Honey," Roman repeated breathlessly, "is not more sweet."

"Idiot." Virgil picked his apple off the ground and brushed the dirt off on his shirt.

"Let me guess," Roman said, climbing down the ladder, "you've already hit no manners."

"I never left no manners," Virgil said through a mouth full of apple.

"Charming."

Virgil grinned at him. "You know it."

Up close, Virgil looked exhausted. His permanent eye bags were dark as rain clouds, and he seemed to have lost the colour in his face that summer had given him. But there was nothing Roman's stranger hated more than a direct line of questioning. "What have you been up to?"

"This and that," Virgil said. "Trying...new things."

"What kind of new things?"

Virgil shrugged. "Helping more people in a bigger way."

"But I'm your favourite person you help?" Roman teased with a grin.

"Shut up," Virgil said, ducking under his overgrown fringe, and that was more of a confirmation than a yes would have been.

Roman laughed triumphantly. "Ah! You do love me!"

Virgil scowled. "You just have food."

"That's what they say about stray cats, but I chose to believe I can speak in feline whispers."

Virgil laughed through his nose. "So you can cat-whisper me?"

"When you hiss it means 'fuck off'," Roman said solemnly.

Virgil laughed again. "That it does."

"Who are the other people that are feeding you throughout the land?" Roman asked.

"There's an innkeeper in the West," Virgil said. "She always says I'm too skinny, and she collects little figurines so I bring them to her from all over. And, uh, if I need to buy things there's a pie shop I like who'll take shiny rocks for their kid. And anyone who lets their trees grow over into the road is kind of giving the fruit. Sometimes I offer to help out people and they offer food."

"But spirits forbid they pay you with it."

Virgil shrugged. "I don't mind jobs. I just prefer not to get stuck places."

"See? Cat."

"Maybe so." Virgil tugged another apple off Roman's tree without asking, then tossed it into the basket. "Can I stay tonight?"

"Of course."

Virgil smiled at Roman, eyes scrunching up.

Roman gave him a slow blink back in cat-smile, before breaking off with a laugh. "You know, you can help me out here or keep on talking from where you are, I don't mind."

"I'll help, as long as I get to go up the ladder."

"Sure."

Virgil scaled the ladder easily, and the leaves murmured contentedly among themselves as he began to stretch for the fruit Roman had missed. They worked together through the golden afternoon, chatting easily and piling the basket with apples.

As they reached the final tree, Roman moved around to the back of it, showing Virgil where a crack in the bark had begun to let in rot. "I tried everything," Roman said. "I think it might just become a glorious martyr for the others, so the rot doesn't spread."

Virgil tilted his head as he looked at the tree. "It's still mostly good...maybe it will go away by itself."

"You really think so?"

"I mean, I'm not sure, but maybe." Virgil nodded his head in consideration before turning back to Roman. "If that's us done, let's get dinner."

"Let's make Roman make you dinner, you mean," Roman teased.

"Or that," Virgil said. "I have, uh-" He opened up his hidden pouch and pulled out some twists of paper. "More spices for you. Also-" He pulled out a little sparkly rock. "Cool rock!"

"Thank you! It is cool!" Roman said, accepting the gifts. "Come on, you can sit outside and peel potatoes with me. Earn your keep."

"I don't have a keep to earn," Virgil said sharply. A shadow fell over his face. "Not even as a joke."

"Fine, fine." Roman rolled his eyes at Virgil’s touchiness. "I'll do all of the potatoes, again-"

"I didn't say I wouldn't help you, just- forget it." Virgil set the apple-basket on his hip and started back to the house ahead of Roman. "How's your dad doing these days?"

"He's well." Roman chose to take the obvious diversion. "The family dog had puppies, so he's delighted at that."

Roman brought out a low stool for Virgil and they worked through the pile of potatoes together.

Roman liked to be neat, but Virgil was almost obsessive, carefully scraping off the thinnest layer of skin he could and digging out eyes with the very tip of his knife.

"You have done three in the time it took me to finish my pile."

Virgil looked up, as if surprised Roman was still there. "I'm just doing it right!"

"I thought you were hungry."

"I can do them quicker if you like, jeez." Virgil took off a more reasonable strip of skin. "Look, you lose half the potato."

"Must you argue about everything?"

The corner of Virgil’s mouth quirked up. "It takes two to argue, Roman."

"You argue enough for two people," Roman teased back, standing up and going over to the fire. "I'm going to start or the sun will start setting by dinner-time."

"Alright, alright!" Virgil said."I'm speeding up."

The afternoon began to slip away into a cool evening as they settled down to eat. Roman sat near the fire, leaving Virgil to balance his plate on the doorstep.

"Where are the spices from?"

"One from a peddler, one from a shop, one...I think was a gift?"

"You'd better not be poisoning me," Roman said, giving Virgil a mock-stern look.

Virgil laughed. "I make no promises."

The fire snapped and danced with the wind. Roman shifted closer to the fire and started on his potatoes. "So- where next?"

"I don't know," Virgil said. "Maybe the coast again, before winter sets in."

Roman met Virgil’s eyes, voice softening with his concern so as not to spook his stranger. "Do you have somewhere to stay when it snows?"

Virgil shrugged. "No, but I'll figure things out."

"You could stay here," Roman offered. "Not for long, just so that I know you're not freezing somewhere."

"I'll be fine, Roman," Virgil said, meeting his eyes. "I appreciate it, I really do, but I'll be fine."

Roman had a few snarky responses to that lined up, but he didn’t want the conversation to be carried away into bickering. He needed Virgil to know he was serious. "I worry about you."

"I worry about myself; I don't need you to. I always come back here in one piece, don't I?"

"I suppose so." Roman took Virgil's empty plate in for washing. "Still, you also come back hungry and cold, so forgive me for not being entirely convinced."

Virgil shrugged. "Not that hungry and not that cold. I'm going to go and sleep for now, if that's okay?"

Roman sighed. "Sure, but we'll finish talking in the morning."

Virgil rolled his eyes.

"All I offer is to help you!" Roman protested.

"And I appreciate it," Virgil replied earnestly before he got up. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight.”

Roman woke up to the sound of rain and banging on his door.

He stumbled out of bed, tugging open the door to see Virgil, silhouetted by the darkness. "Roman! Roman- something's happening-" Virgil broke off as if the air had been pulled from his lungs and he reached out a hand to grab Roman's as he fought for breath. "I- you need to get me out of here, you need to try and move me and I can't- no time to explain just-"

The instant Roman stepped forward to take Virgil's hands his vision flashed white.

#ts fic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #platonic prinxiety #sanders sides #hurt/comfort

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ellebabywrites · 5 years

Text

The Supplier - In Exodus

Type : Oneshot (Part of The In Exodus Series) // Angst // Fluff // Smut // Cartel!au

Warnings : none

Author Note : FINALLY WE HAVE AN UPDATE !! I’m not going to lie, I’m super insecure about this because it’s been so long and I’m just second guessing everything, so feedback would just be really helpful to my soul sksksksks... I hope you enjoy lovelies !!

Everything had gone to plan for Kyungsoo. He’d achieved everything he had wanted to, accomplished all of his goals. He lived contently, sharing his modest farm only with a Border Collie named Hailey; a few chickens; horses and cows. Being the town of Exodus’ lead supplier of milk and eggs was always something he was proud of. Being the lead supplier for one of the biggest drug cartels in the country… less so.

No one suspected the sweet, quiet man; who rides into town with crates of produce and his dog smiling out of his truck, as being the root of all evil that plagues the once quiet town of Exodus.

Kyungsoo doesn’t like to talk about it. Pretending he’s nothing more than a simple farmer is a lot easier than facing the realities of his chosen life. Because that’s the harsh truth of it - he chose this. When an old friend came to him with the idea, he didn’t even consider turning it down; but now more than half of the town was riddled with crime; drugs ran through the streets like candy and cartels from all over the country were constantly fighting to come and get a taste.

Living so far out of town, isolated on the farm wasn’t just good for business, but also for maintaining his ignorance.

---

At 5:30 am sharp the roosters start crowing, forcing Kyungsoo awake from his slumber so he can get ready to start the day. Hailey is already in the kitchen waiting for her breakfast when he sleepily makes his way downstairs, rubbing the dust away from his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater.

“Okay Hailey, I’m here I’ll get your food,” the fluffy bundle of excitement bounced around at the sound of Kyungsoo pouring some of her kibble in a bowl, before getting himself some cereal. They mirror each other, as the pair sit and devour their meals.

It’s a Sunday, which means that it’s time for Kyungsoo to swallow his pride and go check on the supply. 6 days out of the week he can pretend that there’s nothing there; the back fields are empty and he has no business wandering back there; and thanks to cameras Chanyeol had installed, it didn’t hinder the business at all. Except for Sundays. Sundays Kyungsoo has to take the trek across the farm and take stock.

He delays as much as he can; taking extra care in tending to the animals for the morning. Mucking out the stables till they were pristine; making sure each individual hen was alright and collecting their eggs. By the time it comes to feeding, Hailey is impatiently dashing back and forth across the grounds.

“I know you like the walk Hailey, but I’m busy right now….. Don’t look at me like that, I’m not wasting time…. Okay maybe I am wasting a little time but c’mon…” The big dark saucers staring up innocently at Kyungsoo finally get’s him to relent; putting away the last of the feed and reluctantly walking to the back fields.

With each step Kyungsoo tosses away the willful ignorance he maintains for the rest of the week; he’s forced to take a look at what he’s become, what he’s apart of - whether he likes what he sees or not.

Hailey runs ahead on the path, stopping to sniff around the neighbouring plants to the ‘fields of evil’ as Kyungsoo likes to call them. She chases the birds and bathes in the warmth of the sun while Kyungsoo does his weekly check; ignoring the huffs and puffs that fall from her owners lips, used to his disdain but blissfully naive as to why anyone could hate such a beautiful part of the land.

“I wish I had your life Hailey,” Soo sighs, watching how his only company lounges so carelessly in the grass, completely innocent as to what the two were doing. “It’s all good here pup, let’s head back now okay?”

The walk back is far more enjoyable for Kyungsoo; being able to reattach the armor of denial to his soul as he, quite literally, puts his dealings behind him. The wind blew against his face in a way that feels like it’s washing the sin away from his face.

Don’t misunderstand, Kyungsoo has no issue with the drug itself. It’s natural; it’s relatively harmless; it’s good business, especially for someone like him. The real problem lies in the consequences his little business venture had had on the town he had once loved so much. It became infected with greed and want and impulsivity.

If people didn’t want a hit, they wanted in on the money. Kyungsoo’s tailor made euphoria had attracted other cartels from across the country, all wanting a piece of the action; a cut of the profits; control of the territory.

Exodus quickly replaced all the families, young and old, with groups of rowdy wannabees and snakes. The few innocents left lived as secondary concerns to the drugs. Police were swamped. Gangs grew more dangerous. People either lived in fear of violence or withdrawal.

It was all Kyungsoo’s fault. That’s how he felt at least. As the supplier, he had brought this on Exodus. He had opened Pandora’s box and now all he could do was hide out at the farm and pretend for 6 days a week that he was nothing but a simple farmer.

---

Breaking the usual peaceful silence Kyungsoo is accustomed to, a gleeful laugh fills the air, knocking Soo out of his thoughts and immediately putting him on guard. Rounding the corner at the edge of the stables, grabbing the nearest weapon (shovel) he can find, Kyungsoo takes slow steps towards the noise.

No one comes to the farm, especially uninvited, even his own members make sure to call first. A million thoughts race through his mind. Who is it? The police? A member of a rival group? Someone trying to steal a bag and get high? He’s been warned about a group called MX trying to make advances in Exodus as of late - could they have found him already?

“Oh you’re such a good girl huh, You can’t eat my hair though that’s where I draw the line,” The closer Kyungsoo got to where the horses were, the louder the sounds grew.

“What are you doing?”

Startled by his presence, you jump away from the spotted horse your were chatting to.

“Oh sorry, I-”

“What are you doing here?” Kyungsoo takes a tentative step forward, hand gripping the shovel tightly, unsure if he would actually go through with using it.

“I just saw the horses and-”

“You came up here? No one comes here.” His voice remained stoic and firm, making you feel uncomfortable with the growing tension. You didn’t have bad intentions, but he didn’t know that.

“Oh...really? But why, it’s so pretty here,” when his expression doesn’t change at your attempt to lighten the mood, you clear your throat start stuttering out an explanation. “I uh...I just saw the horses from the road and uh…”

“You need to leave.”

His eyes flicker back and forth between your own and the hem of your yellow dress dancing in the wind around your knees. The crease between his brows deepening with every passing second you remained still in front of him.

But before you can shrink away from his intimidating gaze and leave; Hailey comes running to your feet, bouncing up on her hind legs trying to coax your attention away from her owner. When you immediately drop to your knees and endulge the pup, Kyungsoo lets himself relax a little and release a deep sigh. He’s pretty certain that you’re nothing more than a harmless tourist who had naively wandered up to the farm, clearly enchanted by the animals; but he has a quarter bag full of product in his jacket pocket and even the thought of you finding out makes his palms sweat.

“Look..” his voice wavers watching the way you fuss and fawn over Hailey, and for some reason he feels an unfamiliar twinge against his ribs. “I’ve got lots to do today, I..I’m sorry but you’re going to have to leave.”

“Of course, I’m sorry for intruding,” standing up straight, you brush away the stray hairs flying into your face and start taking backwards steps away, “I..It really is a beautiful farm by the way!” Before you turn and move completely out of sight, you send Soo a shy wave goodbye, hoping that he wasn’t as upset as he looked at your presence.

---

Later that night, Kyungsoo tries to wash away the guilt he’s grown used to feeling after those weekly visits to the back fields. He showers and washes the debris out of his hair; brushing his teeth, trying to remove the bitter taste of regret from his mouth. All the while thinking of you…

How did she even get up here? No one’s come up here for so long, let alone someone as pretty as her…

“What..” His thoughts are interrupted by Hailey’s huffing across the room, “Don’t give me that look..” The pup tilts her head in apparent judgement, looking up at Soo with her big doe eyes. “I was just thinking about changing the horses feed this season… that’s all…”

---

A few days pass and eventually Kyungsoo is able to forget about the strange girl who had wandered onto his farm and had been occupying his thoughts. He’d returned to the quiet, peaceful, reclusive life he had grown comfortable with.

Walking down the muddy pathway back towards the farm, Hailey trailing along at his ankles and a pair of empty milk crates thrown haphazardly into a wheelbarrow being dragged behind them; Kyungsoo wipes the sweat from the side of his face against his shirt.

Wednesdays are delivery days. He gathers all the courage he can muster; puts on a brave face and heads into town. If it wasn’t for the constant reminders of all the damage his little side business had done to Exodus, maybe he would actually enjoy these visits. But of course he doesn’t.

In the distance, Hailey spots you first; fiddling with your fingers and nervously rocking on the heels of your feet against the farm’s gate; chewing your bottom lip till it was swol.

“Hey! I’ve been waiting here for hours, I thought I’d missed you,” excitedly you run up to where Kyungsoo stood in shock at your sudden appearance. A red bow pinning back your hair and slight gloss over your lips, the peach tint to your cheeks illuminated by the golden hour light pouring through the trees above.

“Why are you here?” Cursing at himself for how harsh his words sound, Kyungsoo picks his chin back up and walks straight passed you, calling for Hailey to follow.

“I um.. I just moved into Exodus, you know the town that’s like, that way,” you turn quickly to follow him towards the farm, gesturing back down the road he had just came from.

“Why are you at my farm again?” Though a question, he made no effort to suggest he actually cared for an answer, quickening his steps as if trying to shake you off his tail.

“Exodus isn’t exactly a cheap place to live and I guess I overestimated just how far my savings would stretch,” chuckling nervously as you listen to yourself divulge your financial problems to a near enough stranger, you swallow dryly and run slightly ahead so you can confront him face on, “Look.. I’ve tried everywhere in town and no one is hiring, I remembered you from the other day and I thought maybe you could use some help?”

Kyungsoo watches curiously as you use your body to block his path and wide eyes stare up at him pleadingly; in that moment he feels his resolve melting slightly and allows his mind to indulge in the thought of seeing your face every day, but Hailey nosing at the bottom of his leg soon knocks him out of it, returning him to reality.

“I don’t need any help, sorry.” Once more he tries to walk passed your defeated self, biting back the small voice in his mind begging him to reconsider, but you’re too quick.

“Please! I..I work hard, I promise I won’t be any trouble...and I’m great with animals! I can do whatever you need I…” your outburst startles Soo, your desperation clear from how you start lowering yourself down to beg quite literally, on your hands and knees before him. “I really need this to work out, you’re my last hope…”

The small voice in his mind had grown considerably louder watching your face blush a deep plum colour in embarrassment, fingers interlocked and held out in front of him. ‘Give her a chance!’ ‘You could use the company!’ ‘She seems harmless and sweet, help her!’ But then of course the booming voice of his conscience shouts out reminders of the hidden secrets that the farm hides… could he really risk you getting involved with all that? Did he even want you to know about it? No.

You were the only person in the entire town that was left beautifully untouched by the darkness of EXO. He couldn’t be selfish… could he?

“Fine… come back tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do..”

---

Reluctantly, Kyungsoo kept to his word and the next day when he saw you skipping up the pathway to the farm, he racked his brain for bits and bobs you could help out with.

“Hi!” you wave excitedly when you see Soo walking out towards you, trying to ignore the line buried deep between his brows as he sizes you up. Dressed in cotton shorts and a baggy shirt, you know you must look terrible and you’re hoping that’s the cause of his expression, rather than how you keep showing up disturbing his peace.

“I’m ready to work, what’s first boss?”

---

Over the next few weeks you managed your way around the farm, never seeing too much of Kyungsoo, but managing nonetheless. At first he spent every day by your side, guiding you through every step of what would become your daily chores, making sure you got everything exactly the way he liked it; and then once he was sure you could handle it, he disappeared.

You didn’t mind too much though, the abundance of animal friends you had were more than enough to keep you company - but that didn’t stop you wondering about your allusive new boss.

Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of him in the distance, working on his own chores with Hailey following closely behind, the same indifferent expression painted on his face. He moved on autopilot, never showing any kind of emotion when he sensed you near, as if he was keeping himself guarded like you could destroy him at any moment. He tended the fields; collected the harvest; made his deliveries before disappearing back into the farm house for the rest of the evening. Whenever you could catch a moment you tried your best to break the tension, cracking jokes and asking questions, anything to get more than five words out of him. You only managed to break his tough exterior a handful of times; your impression of the postman being the one that really got him to smile; before he bashfully retreated back to the cool persona you’d become all too familiar with.

Kyungsoo, still skeptical, kept his eye on you while you were at the farm. The small voice at the back of his mind still not totally convinced you weren’t somehow working with MX; not that you had given any indication whatsoever that you were secretly part of a rival drug cartel that is; he was just being cautious.

Yeah… Cautious… He’s just being cautious when he times up his chores so he can listen to you talking to the cows while you milk them; it’s a cautious chuckle when he watches you get chased around the yard by the chickens when you forget to drop all of the feed from your overall pockets. He’s being especially cautious when he does the books inside the stable office, rather than his kitchen, so he can watch you muck out the paddocks, fall into the bales and stand up with stray strands of hay littered throughout your hair. Kyungsoo is just a cautious guy. If anything he’s being responsible.

And the longer Kyungsoo can keep telling himself those lies, the longer he can go without facing reality. That with every lame joke; blushed cheeks; childlike awe and innocence - he falls more and more for you and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

---

After a couple more weeks of denial and pining, Kyungsoo decides he’s had enough. He’s determined to knock down a few of the walls he’d built up when the longing to be close to you, talk with you, touch you; all becomes too much.

Before he even rounds the corner he can hear you talking gently with the hens ‘wow you ladies are so good! Look at all these eggs you’ve got for us today!’

“Hey stranger!” you call out, smiling brightly as he slowly makes his way over to you.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo mumbled back, as he sheepishly looked down at the basket of eggs you’d started collecting.

Almost on instinct, Kyungsoo starts putting more eggs into your basket. There’s an awkward silence as Kyungsoo wracks his brain for something, anything to say. Why didn’t he think this far ahead when he decided to do this?

“So…” he starts, you look up immediately in shock that he was actually trying to have a conversation with you, “What brought you to Exodus?”

“My mom died; my dad drank; I left. Same old story…”

You try not to think back on the days before Exodus. Sure, it wasn’t exactly paradise here, but to you anything was better than home. She’d been sick for a while; your mom; she was diagnosed with a Glioblastoma a little over a year ago. The tumor ate away at her body, her soul; taking everything that made her ‘her’ before she passed. When she finally found peace, your father hit rock bottom. He was always a heavy drinker, but when your mom died he just went overboard; and then came the violence. A push here and there turned into a slap, which then turned into a punch. Purple bruises fade to a sickening green under your farm clothes, goodbye presents from him when you decided to leave.

Kyungsoo swallows dryly, immediately regretting opening his mouth, “I-I’m sorry..”

“It’s alright,” you wish he’d look up at you so he could see the gentle smile on your face, maybe then he’d actually believe you. But instead Soo keeps his eyes glued to the eggs, trying to make it as discreet as possible that he’d slowed down his movements, in an attempt to buy enough time for his confidence to show up.

“I like Exodus,” you say, smiling to yourself at the thought of your little flat in town.

“You like Exodus?” he questioned, not meaning for his voice to come out as loud as it did but not really minding too much when you giggle at his reaction.

“Yes! I love it here! The people; the scenery; the animals! How long have you lived here?”

It’s bittersweet for Kyungsoo; thinking back on the memories he has of the farm, of Exodus, before everything good was ruined.

When Kyungsoo was young, he moved into Exodus to live with his Grandmother on the farm. She was a small woman with wispy silver hair and eyes that smiled as bright as the sun. To anyone else she looked as fragile as glass, with a hunched back and frail fingers; but Kyungsoo knew she was strong. Working on the farm alone for years; tending the animals and collecting the harvests; she was a machine against all appearances. She was his favourite person.

She took him in and taught him everything he knows about the farm. If she could only see now what he’d done with his inheritance, he was sure that she’d be rolling in her grave.

“My whole life,” he answered quickly, not wanting to talk to much about the past, afraid it would break down the wall keeping his guilt at bay.

Luckily you saw he was reluctant to speak any more on the subject, quickly dropping any questions that were bubbling up inside of you in favour of drawing out a little more conversation.

“Oh, you must know all the hotspots ‘round town huh? I’ve been here a little over a month already and I still feel like a lot puppy,” you confess, not meaning for it to sound as pathetic as it came out and blushing at the realisation.

“I could show you around,” Soo felt the words race up his throat before he could swallow them down, “I mean if you wanted to…”

“I would love that,” you agreed bashfully, both turning your attention back to the coop of hens that you’d been distracted from.

After another moment of awkward silence, Soo uses up his remaining shreds of courage, “I could.. I could show you the lake tomorrow? It’s my favourite place in town...if you want”

When you glance up to see the blush painting his own cheeks, you no longer try to suppress your growing smile. Nodding along and smiling dumbly, watching Kyungsoo stutter a quiet ‘okay’ before taking the basket of eggs out of your hands and walking away before he throws up with nerves.

---

The next day you arrive at the farm bright and early, ready to work off the butterflies in your stomach that formed at the thought of spending time with Kyungsoo. Would you call it a crush? You suppose so. You find yourself looking for him constantly; feeling nervous when he’s around; yearning for any type of conversation that could tie you over till the next day. Your cheeks are rarely without a rose flush and you’ve lost a few too many ribbons trying to keep your hair somewhat decent throughout the day.

Yes you most definitely had a crush.

You however, were completely oblivious to the fact that Kyungsoo had been secretly harbouring feelings for you too. Not that he had made it obvious in any way that is. The stronger his feelings grew the more closed off he became. To Kyungsoo, you were perfection. The perfect mix of innocence and light, he had never met anyone like you before. He found your habit of talking to the animals adorable; the way you fill silences with bad jokes endearing; the way you weren’t discrete in any way when you watched him with curious eyes, nor when you tried to hide the blush on your cheeks when he looked back.

But you were too good. If anything the time you’d spent together in the last month or so had only proved that. Kyungsoo wanted so badly to keep you away from his life with EXO, to keep himself from falling too hard; but what was the harm in showing you around town a bit? He hadn’t heard you talk much about your life outside of the farm and besides, since having you around everyday it was harder for him to lie about not feeling so lonely.

“Soo!” You yelled out, he loved when you called him that. You waved overhead to further get his attention from across the yard, before running up to him. “I made us lunch, ya know, for the lake,” you let out shyly, holding up a basket filled with goodies.

Kyungsoo was too flustered to give a proper response, instead opting to take the basket from your hands and quietly suggesting the pair of you get going.

“Which, which way is it?” you giggle, watching Kyungsoo’s eyes widen when he realises that he hadn’t made any attempt to move.

“Oh, sorry it’s uh, just this way,”

Hailey watched the pair of you curiously; wagging her tail at the sight of you both stuttering over your words and giggling like nervous teenagers, impatiently waiting for her promised trip to the lake - but when Kyungsoo lets a giggle slip at his own mistake, Hailey quietens her whimpering not minding the wait.

The lake was even more beautiful than Kyungsoo had described; surrounded by trees and flowers blooming every colour of the rainbow. The water was calm and the reflection of the sun glistening on the surface was inviting, the grumbling of your stomach being the only thing stopping you running and jumping straight in.

Hailey ran ahead finding a spot beneath one of the trees, with the pair of you giggling at her excitement, following her lead.

“Let’s eat first shall we?” Soo asked, worried if he waited any longer then his own stomach would start making noises and there was no way he could deal with that embarrassment.

The two of you sat down in the spot Hailey had so kindly picked out, devouring the packed sandwiches and selection of nibbles you’d wrapped. You talk shyly about how beautiful the weather was and how cute Hailey looked rolling around among the flowers. It was an innocent type of awkward. Both hesitant with your words but at the same time not wanting the other to stop talking. Kyungsoo had laughed at the strawberry jam on the side of your lips, wiping it off with his thumb before he could think about it too much. You made him a daisy chain bracelet while he told you all about the latest mystery book he’s reading, not that you were paying too much attention, more focused on securing the frail stems around his wrist. He didn’t mind.

When you both got up to leave, even Hailey wasn’t finished witnessing the cuteness that was your ‘unofficial’ first date. She sprinted at your ankles, making you lose your balance and fall face first into the lake. Kyungsoo was mortified, dropping everything to try and help pull you out - but when you grabbed onto his outstretched hand you couldn’t resist pulling him in with you.

“I can’t believe you just did that!” He yells, the sound of your laughter drowning out his protests. When you don’t stop, head falling back with glee, Kyungsoo splashes the water around you.

“Hey!”

“You pulled me in!”

“Hailey tripped me!”

After a beat of silence, you both erupted into a fit of giggles, splashing and chasing each other around the bank like children high on a sugar rush. It was the most fun Kyungsoo had had in a long time; being able to let himself relax and just be himself with someone, he hoped the moment would never end.

Just as you were about to swim right passed him again Soo reached out to block your path, inadvertently forcing you to crash straight into his chest. He must have let his eyes wander down to the curve of your lips for just a split second, because in the next moment you have your hands placed firmly on his shoulders while your lips gently touch his own.

It takes 5 seconds before you realise that he’s not responding. He’s not responding and you’ve made a terrible mistake. You’re kissing your boss and he’s not doing anything.

“Oh my God…” you push yourself away from him with more force than you intended, letting a wave of water separate the two of you. Bringing your hands up to cover your face, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “I’m so sorry..” you mumble against the palm of your hand, forcing yourself back to the waters’ edge, pulling yourself up so you can make a clean escape. Unfortunately your foot catches and your slip right back down.

Kyungsoo wants to move to help you. He wants to say something, ask you to stay. To go back in time just 5 minutes and have a do over. But he’s frozen in place, watching you stumble up the bank and grab your things, watching you run back down the path and out of his sight.

When he does finally regain control of his body it’s almost scary how quickly he lashes at the water, cussing under his breath at what he’d just let slip away.

---

Getting out of bed the next morning was torture. The last thing you wanted to do was go to work and have to face Kyungsoo after you’d so badly misread everything yesterday.

Somehow you managed to drag yourself to the farm but there was absolutely no way you could bring yourself to see Kyungsoo. So, you did the only rational thing you could think of, get as much done in the first few hours as possible then run off to hide in the fields till Soo had finished his deliveries.

That’s where you were when Hailey found you, pulling strands of grass absentmindedly.

“Oh hey Bub, what are you doing all the way out here?” You gently ruffle behind her ears when she walks right up to you, nosing for attention. “You wanna go for a walk girl? I could the company,” At the sound of that Hailey pipes up, running in excited little circles by your feet.

She runs ahead of you through the fields, stopping every few minutes to make sure you were still following her. It was adorable, and cathartic, taking a stroll with the ball of happiness that was Hailey; the warm breeze helping clear your mind.

Eventually you find yourself in an unfamiliar part of the farm, Hailey was wagging her tail as she led you in and out of the tall plants.

“What the hell,” you mumble, walking further into the garden. “Did you know this was back here Hail?” But the pup just kept walking.

You’re not an idiot, you know what this is; but why was it here? Did Kyungsoo know about this? If he does then what the fuck was he doing? A million different thoughts race through your mind the longer you walked around the unfamiliar place.

“What are you doing!?” Kyungsoo’s deep voice booms from over your shoulder, sending a chill up your spine so cold you daren't turn around. “What. Are. You. Doing,” he repeats.

Taking a deep breath you force yourself to face him, eyes wide and teary when you see the look he’s giving you. “Soo what is…”

“Who said you could come back here!” He cuts off your questions with a raised voice, ignoring the pang in his chest when your eyes start to glass over. “Hailey come here now,” she runs over to him immediately, leaving you standing alone in front of them.

“Can’t you just do your fucking job! Get out of here!” Kyungsoo sighs heavily, running his hand through his hair and turning his back to where you’re standing there, shaking.

He didn’t yell because he was mad...okay maybe a little, but only at himself. He just panicked, you weren’t supposed to see all of this, he didn’t want you to see. It was the one thing he was most ashamed of in his life, and you were the one person he never wanted to see him like that; and now he was shouting at you, watching tears fill your eyes.

When he did finally turn back around you were gone.

“Stop looking at me like that Hailey...you brought her up here,” she was looking up at him with such disappointment, he knew he fucked up, “yes I know I went overboard… just...let’s just go.”

---

“Just do your fucking job” he had said. That’s what had upset you most. “Do your fucking job” As if you hadn’t spent your every waking hour on the farm doing everything he had asked of you to near perfection. If that’s all he had to say then that’s all you would do. Your fucking job.

You went straight back to work, not bothering to try and hide away from him anymore, maybe it was petty but if he was going to shout at you about working then you’d make damn sure he saw you doing just that.

Making sure everything was perfect; animals fed; equipment put away; you didn’t even stop to talk with the animals as you got on with things, nor did you hum along with the birds that sang as you worked.

Kyungsoo watched you for the rest of the day, he felt guilty for snapping at you, guilty for why he snapped in the first place. Just as the two of you had started to get somewhere he had ruined it. You wouldn’t even look at him, let alone talk - he needed to fix this.

It was getting late and you were making your last rounds in the stables, checking the horses were okay for the night. One of the mares had somehow gotten into the wheat field and strands of the grass matted throughout her mane. You didn’t mind taking the extra time to clean her up, rather than give Kyungsoo another reason to complain about your work ethic.

When Soo notices the stable light still on he decides it’s now or never.

You’re untangling Zoey’s braids, pulling out grass and brushing it back down again. Kyungsoo sees you flinch when he approaches but still you won’t look at him. He wants you to say something because he has no idea how to start. But you don’t, only turning to leave when he steps closer.

“Wait, wait Y/N please,” his voice is small but it makes you stop. Not that you’d admit it but you hated the tension brewing between you both today, after weeks of falling for him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean to shout earlier… please just look at me again Y/N,”

Your eyes are already glassy and your bottom lip is held tightly between your teeth when you turn to face him. You look so hurt he thinks, how could he let himself get so angry before?

“I… didn’t want you to see that… I don’t want you to see that part of me. It’s not something I’m proud of and I don’t want you to think of me that way,” he explains nervously. Will you run? Will you hate him? Will you ever be able to look at him like you did the day before again? Oh my god he’d completely forgotten about what happened at the lake.

Hesitantly he steps forward reaching out and cupping the side of your face, having to stop himself from retreating back when you freeze under his touch.

“I don’t want you to think I’m this horribly evil person… not when I think you’re the most perfect, beautiful human being I’ve ever met… I don’t want to scare you away…”

Not sure how to react to his confession, you just look up at him trying to read if he really means what you think he means so you don’t end up embarrassing yourself again. Could he actually like you? Crushes never like you back... yet here he was, cupping your cheek and looking at you like you were everything.

“I would never think that you know,” closing the gap between you with a single step, you lean further into his touch, as if giving him permission. His lips are chapped and uncertain. Moving against your own gently just in case he had misread something, only pushing for more when you grip onto the fabric of his shirt, anchoring his body to your own. After a second you reluctantly pulled away, foreheads pressed together while you both tried to collect yourselves.

He really just kissed you… that means he likes you...right? He’s looking at you like he likes you… and he kissed you like he likes you… so..so he does, right?

“I really like you,” can he read your mind now? “Please like me back.” I guess not.

“I like you very much Kyungsoo, very very much.” The second - well, third - kiss was even better than you could have imagined. Passionate and needy as all the walls that had been building up between the two of you, finally came crashing down; his fingers threading through your hair and your arms wrapping around his neck, too scared to let go incase it was all a dream.

“You should stay here tonight, it’s far too late for you to be walking back into town now,” Kyungsoo knows full well you walk home at this time every single day, but he can’t help but want to keep the moment for a little longer, if not for just one night.

---

The farmhouse is dark when you both stumble your way inside, the warm interior a stark contrast to Kyungsoo’s cold persona, but somehow still making perfect sense. Neither of you turn on the light, instead just standing in front of each other, trying to figure out what to do next.

Even in the darkness you know that Kyungsoo is looking at you, you always know. His eyes burn your skin with such intensity that it gives you chills; even when he tries to make his stolen glances discreet, you can always feel him.

“What is it?” You ask with a nervous giggle, you feel so conscious under his gaze.

“It’s just..you’re beautiful,” He has no idea where this sudden rush of confidence has come from, but seeing you standing right there, he suddenly wants to confess everything he feels. He wants to tell you about all the times he’s had to stop himself from staring too long at your lips, or how they’re just as incredible as he’d imagined. He wants to tell you about every sinful thought that ran through his mind late at night, long after you’d left and how he’d wished so badly for you to touch him.

He feels the heat crawling up his neck as those thoughts rush to his mind, he’s held back for so long, now that the barrier is broken he doesn’t want to wait anymore.

And as if you could feel his desire through the air, you both rushed towards each other, in a clash of teeth and tongue your bodies melded together in a haze of lust and impatience. His hands move down to grip your hips firmly, not enough to hurt, just enough to keep you close.

When you pull on his neck slightly Kyungsoo gets the message and hoists your thighs to hook around his waist, the new angle making it easier for you to kiss him and him to move you to the bedroom.

You don’t even realise you’re in a different room till you feel the soft sheets below you, Kyungsoo prying open your legs so he can slide between them while leaving hot kisses on the side of your neck.

“Is this okay?” He asks, fingers dancing up your thighs insufferably slow. You whisper a quick ‘yes’ before going back to kissing him.

“What about this?” you feel his hands toying with the elastic of your panties, the burning fire in his eyes never leaving you own, watching how your face, your body, reacts to his movements. When you feel him press firmly on your clit through the thin fabric, you can’t help the way your breath stops.

“Is it okay if I do this?” He’s teasing you now. Sliding down your pliant body till his face is level with your heat; slowly pulling the cotton panties down your legs, exposing yourself to him. “So beautiful,” he whispers against your skin over and over.

You’d slept with people before, shared those intimate moments with one or two ex boyfriends in the past - but never have you felt the love and passion that came with sleeping with Kyungsoo. His touch. His kiss. The way his hips rolled into yours at an excruciatingly slow pace but hitting all the right spots inside of you. His eyes never leaving your face, lips never leaving your skin. One hand wrapped behind your back to keep you as close as possible while the other rubbed dangerous circles on you clit. It was perfect.

He loved the way your skin glistened with sweat as your hips desperately bucked up for more; the way your hand moved down and squeezed his ass with every thrust; the way your eyes squeezed shut and mouth fell open when you finally let yourself give in to him.

---

“I’m sorry Hailey I got distracted,” Kyungsoo was trying his best to whip up some late breakfast, leaving you to sleep for a bit longer in bed. In the midst of everything that had happened the night before, he had forgotten that Hailey had been shut out of the bedroom and had to sleep alone downstairs.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says, giving the pup a stern look, “but don’t go chewing up her shoes just because you spent the night on the couch okay? I like her.. More than like her I think, even if she can’t milk a cow to save her life.. I like her and I know you like her too,” Hailey responds with a bark in agreement, liking the happy energy coming him.

“In my defense, it’s just Daisy that doesn’t let me milk her and I’m 90% sure it’s because she doesn’t like me!”

You’re standing against the door frame, hair tied back messily, wearing Kyungsoo’s button down shirt from the day before, a flustered blush on your cheeks and smile tugging on your lips after hearing his words.

“Daisy likes you!” Kyungsoo tried to reason, turning back to the pancakes in an effort to hide his growing smile and flustered cheeks; but that had only left his back exposed and when he felt you wrap your arms around his waist and cheek press against his shoulder blade in a back hug, well he might have just died a little bit.

“Daisy would sell me for half an apple with zero hesitation!”

It feels strangely normal to sit at Kyungsoo’s breakfast table, eating overdone pancakes and talking about the day. It feels even stranger that it doesn’t scare Kyungsoo. Having you so close, letting you in; when he watches you fuss over Hailey while simultaneously trying to keep her from jumping up and stealing your pancakes - he’s not scared anymore. He only feels love.

A phone ringing in the other room rips him out of the new found comfort. It’s his ‘work’ phone, meaning it’ll be the Boss, meaning something is very wrong. Kyungsoo excuses himself quietly and you can tell from the way the smile vanishes from his face that something is up.

“Hey,” out of earshot Soo answers the call, afraid of what he’s about to hear.

“Something’s happened. We need to meet at the farm today.” Junmyeon’s voice is stern and cold on the other end of the line. It means this is serious.

“Is everyone okay?”

“Baek’s hurt, not too bad but enough. MX are moving in and we need a plan, we’re on our way to you now.”

“Okay I’ll be ready, see you soon.” When he hangs up the call, the sound of you cooing at Hailey reaches his ears through the halls and Kyungsoo curses.

You can’t be here.

“Uh Y/N, I’m really sorry but I need you to leave.” He looked panicked and it left a sour taste in your mouth.

“Is everything okay? What’s going on?” Just by looking at him you could tell something had spooked him. He was stiff and cold, eyes refusing to meet your own and he seemed as desperate as anything to get you to leave.

“Everything’s fine just..please leave.”

“I’m not leaving till you tell me what’s wrong Soo, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s a...work problem.”

“Great I work here, how can I help?” You know what he’s trying to imply but you can’t leave, not when he looks so shaken and not when you’d just gotten him to open up.

“Y/N…” Kyungsoo sighs in exasperation, you really were relentless.

“Look, you do what you need to do and I’ll take care of the farm. It’s business, I understand Soo, really.”

Without a word, Kyungsoo walked over and gently kissed your forehead before retreating back into the other room. He didn’t like the idea of you being here with the rest of EXO, but if he was being honest then he didn’t like the idea of you leaving any more.

With a deep breath, you quickly got yourself changed and headed out to work. You weren’t entirely sure what Kyungsoo’s other ‘business’ entailed, but you figured that it would probably mean he would be busy for the rest of the day. Which must have been right as Hailey opted to spend the day with you for a change.

---

“Well well, who are you and why don’t I know your name?”

You’re in the middle of leading some of the horses back into the stables when an unfamiliar voice calls out from behind you. You turn to see three men walking up the path of the farm, the one who’d shouted out earning a shove from the shorter of the trio.

“I’m Y/N, can I help you guys?” The taller one smirks at your offer, finding amusement in the causality of your question.

“Where’s Kyungsoo?” The shorter man asks flatly, clearly not as amused with the situation as the other two seem to be, much to your confusion.

“He’s a bit busy at the moment, is there anything I can do?”

“You could give me your number gorgeous and we cou-”

“Knock it off Sehun!” Kyungsoo shouts, quickly making his way over to the four of you, “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Well don’t keep such a pretty face all to yourself then,” Sehun jokes, sending you a wink to further annoy the others.

“Enough.” The shorter man, Minseok you later learn, orders tiredly. “We’re meeting the others in town, get your stuff.”

“You’re leaving?” You don’t want Kyungsoo to leave, as much as you’re trying to pretend to be fine with everything, the idea that he was somehow caught up in the very obvious drug problem in Exodus was more than a little worrying - especially when he seemed so bothered by it himself.

“I have to... “ Soo could tell you were trying to hide your worry and he felt himself waver for a second. But Exo need him and the safest place for you during all of this would be the farm, even if it meant leaving you there alone. “Stay here while I’m gone, watch Hailey for me?”

Blocking the other three men’s view of you, Soo stands in front of you and cups your face lovingly, it felt like a goodbye and you didn’t like it. He leaned down to give you a gentle kiss, looking you in the eyes when he whispered ��I’ll be back soon.’ How long that would be, you didn’t know.

---

It had been weeks. Not a word from Kyungsoo, or any of Exo for that matter.

In the time you’d had alone at the farm, you’d done your research on the group and their role in Exodus. It shocked and scared you sure, but you knew Kyungsoo and nothing could change the feelings that had blossomed over your time together. If anything, the new found knowledge was making you feel more concerned for him. Was he safe? Was he hurt? Was he ever going to come back?

Each day you woke up in Soo’s bed; did your daily chores; walked Hailey - hell, you even went as far as keeping checks on the supply just incase anything went wrong. Every night you spent hours sat in front of the living room fire, pretending to watch whatever rerun was playing on the television; Hailey at your feet, doing just as bad a job at not watching the door.

“He’ll be home soon Hailey, don’t worry” you were absolutely not projecting your worries onto the dog…. She was just very anxious. “They probably have lots of stuff to get through, that’s all…”

Hailey had gotten used to your rambling about Soo by now. Accepting the way you would talk about your feelings as if they were her own, your worries were hers, your hopes were hers. It comforted you.

But when you sleep in an empty bed every night with only the sounds of the growling winds outside in competition with Hailey’s snoring - you just want him to come home.

---

Heavy rain pounds against the windows of the farmhouse, that and a mix of late night tv soon lulled you to sleep on the red sofas. Hailey on the floor beside you and a half eaten sandwich left on the coffee table. That’s how Kyungsoo finds you.

He quietly slipped off his soaked coat, wincing at the pain in his shoulder from the events of the last few weeks, a mix of purple and green bruises painting his skin. He’s tired and the sight of you curled up on the sofa, face illuminated by the dwindling fire is more of a welcome than he could have ever hoped for.

“Good girl Hailey,” he whispers at the pup, keeping her calm so he could get to you without waking you up. God all he wants is to hold you, kiss you, tell you how much he’d missed you and hope you say the same; but you look so peaceful he daren’t wake you.

“Thank you for waiting my love,” he says softly, letting his fingers play with the ends of your hair gently before giving into temptation completely and joining you in lying down. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, almost as holding you was physically grounding him in the moment, reminding him that everything was going to be okay.

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

Last Straw (2/12)

Newly married to your high school sweetheart Kylo Ren, the two of you move into Skywalker Ranch, a farm recently passed down after the death of Kylo’s grandfather. The place is charming, and the people seem friendly…but are they?

Content Warnings: Animal death, animal cruelty, gore (relating to the animal death), blood.

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

No, you think, you really aren’t the best equipped to do such intense renovation work as the house needs. And you desperately want it to be done well, to the best that it can be, to bring it back to its former glory – if for no other reason than to help Kylo heal. He is a big, strong man, but he can’t do all this alone, not all by himself.

Besides, you think, neither you nor Kylo were strapped for cash, not by any means. If you could help support a local family business with a job like this, one that was sure to take a long time and require a lot of labor, well, then you’d be happy to do so.

“I think that’s a great idea honey.” You decide finally, putting your mug down and walking into the living room to look for your purse. You always carried a small pad of paper and about five different kinds of pens on you at all times, “Do you want me to write it up?” You ask once you’ve found it, once you come back to the kitchen.

“Would you? That’d be great, thank you.” Kylo wraps his arms around your middle, rests his chin on your shoulder as you write in clear clean letters:

Help Wanted!

Historic farmhouse – complete renovation (help us restore our family home!)

Will pay well! Please contact Mr. & Mrs. Kylo Ren at:

Skywalker Ranch, Sweetwater co. WY

“I need to go into town to pick up groceries, cleaning supplies, that sort of thing, I can drop this off at the news station, if it’s still where I remember it.” Kylo says with a smile as he picks up the slip of paper, careful of the drying ink.

You know what he’s smiling at, at the little Mr. & Mrs., the first time you’ve ever really put that down on a piece of paper after the wedding. You smile right back at him, nudge his calf with your toes until he’s fully grinning.

“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask, and he grows so shy – as if you didn’t just get married a week ago, as if you hadn’t been in love all your lives.

“Only if you want to.” He shrugs, bashful in the way that means he absolutely wants you to join, and you sip the scalding coffee as quickly as you can without totally burning your tongue, something which makes him laugh as he passes you on his way to the bedroom.

It takes almost forty-minutes to get all the way into town, into town properly anyway. About half an hour into the drive there are houses that spring up, scattered about. Nothing that could really be called a suburb, not the way you think of it anyway. But ten minutes more and suddenly you’re driving down Main Street, a bustling road filled with people walking, biking, driving.

It’s just the one road, but it’s got all the sorts of stores you might want, anything you might need. There’s a grocery, a pharmacy, the library. A couple store-fronts selling clothes, home goods. There are restaurants, bars, but none of them, nothing on the street is a chain. Everything is mom-and-pop, established signs and plaques boasting over one hundred years of operation.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to live in a place like this? It was always my dream, getting out of the city, out into nature. I love how wide open everything is.” You say, the sun-bleached pavement smooth under the tires of the truck.

“Good, because we’ve got just about nothing but nature.” Kylo replies, as he parks the car in front of the grocery store.

The little bell at the door dings when he opens it for you, and you’re surprised to see it’s busy. People must get their shopping done on Saturdays, you think, as you grab a shopping cart, already fishing around in your bag for the list you wrote up on the drive over.

You’re just about to start roaming the aisles when an old man recognizes your husband and slaps the register happily.

“Benny! How ya doin’ son?” He calls out, lifting the little swing door enough to get through it, to come greet Kylo with a big hug.

“Mr. Dormer I go by Kylo now.” He patiently responds, giving a stiff hug to the sweet guy.

He’s got to be over seventy, you think, with deep tanned, weathered skin and a missing front tooth. He wears a faded baseball cap and a denim shirt tucked into bright blue jeans, almost as blue as the turquoise bolo tie he has around his neck.

“Kyle-o, now that’s a name! You earn that in the city?” Mr. Dormer chuckles good-naturedly, and Kylo blushes.

“Something like that.” He mumbles, but Mr. Dormer is far too excited to register it.

“By gosh by golly you look just like Anakin, you know that? Have his eyes.” He says, and you give Kylo’s hand a squeeze reassuringly when the tips of his ears go red at the comparison. “And this! Who is this lovely young thing?” Mr. Dormer asks, and now Kylo blushes for real.

“Mr. Dormer, this is my wife, (Y/N).” He introduces you, and the old man takes your hand and gives it a big kiss.

“The (Y/N)? The one you used to spend all summer bitchin’ and moanin’ about wishin’ you could go smooch instead of helping your grandpappy till the land?” He chuckles again, and you raise a pleased eyebrow, very amused.

“Mr. Dormer please – ” Kylo starts, because now he’s drawing some attention, and if there’s one thing Kylo didn’t want, it was the public’s attention.

“Oh I don’t mean to embarrass you Kyle-o, it’s just nice to see a new face round here.” He waves him off, but you can tell he’s sincere.

“We stopped by because we’ve moved into the farmhouse, and there’s nothing in it.” You say kindly, gesturing to the long list of things you need to pick up.

“Don’t let me stop you, in fact when you’re all ready to go I’ll give you the friends and family discount.” Mr. Dormer winks, and Kylo just reaches out to shake his hand.

“Thank you Mr. Dormer, it means a lot to us.” Kylo says, but once again, the man just waves him off with a weathered smile. Before Kylo turns away, he pats his pocket where the little slip of paper you wrote up lives. “You don’t happen to know if they still publish that weekly newsletter, do you?” He asks, and Mr. Dormer scoffs as if offended.

“Oh ‘course they do! Three buildings down, can’t miss it.” He replies, but he does so with a wink, and you simply shake your head, tug Kylo happily down the aisles.

When the cart is full and everything on the list has been crossed off, you load up the bed of the truck and walk hand in hand down the three buildings, where just as Mr. Dormer said, stands proud and tall the publishing house. Inside it is a staff of only three people, so you figure might as well walk right up to the front desk, greet the woman there with a smile.

“Ben!” The woman with a little nameplate that says Stephanie gasps in recognition when you and Kylo stand before her.

“Hey Steph, it’s Kylo now.” He says, and you already feel bad for him, because you know this is going to be a trend. She gives an apologetic glance, but Kylo just moves on, “Me and my wife would like to run this ad please – honey how long do you think?” Kylo asks, turning to you.

“Well, how much is it?” You ask, trying to do the mental calculations.

“Well we charge by the line.” Stephanie says, chewing her gum.

“Understandable, we’ve got uh,” Kylo looks down at the little slip of paper, “Four lines?”

“Alrighty then that’ll be four dollars.” Stephanie replies, and you both frown.

“That’s it?” He asks, at the same time as you go, “Are you sure?”

“Yes ma’am. Dollar per line, always has been, always will be.” Stephanie says proudly, pointing to a small hand-painted wooden sign that reads the exact same.

“And is that per week?” You ask, still not fully recovered from the shock of how criminally inexpensive that is.

“Yes ma’am, so having the ad run for about a month would make it sixteen bucks even.” Stephanie nods, and you suddenly grow concerned.

“Do you think it’ll be a month before someone reaches out?” You ask Kylo, and he looks at you, chews his lip and you can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

“You can always do a two week run and then renew it if you’d like.” Stephanie suggests, twirling a curly lock of hair around her finger, “First ad will go out tomorrow, since it’s Saturday and all.”

“That sounds perfect, thank you.” You agree, sliding over a new ten dollar bill, telling her to keep the change as you leave.

Back at the house, Kylo is quiet as he helps you put the groceries away. Thankfully the fridge and freezer are working fine, electricity up and running no problem once you called and made a new contract with the utilities company. One of the benefits of living with farmers was that everything from the grocery store came from right there, all the milk and cheese fresh, all the fruits and vegetables ripe and perfect. The meats were priced well, and really the only thing you splurged on was a cake from the bakery, a small little chocolate thing to celebrate the first real day in the new house.

“Are you happy here?” Kylo asks, feeding you a forkful of the fudge icing, “Like, will this place make you happy?”

He’s so serious, so genuine, that you almost think something is wrong. But he’s got that look in his eye again, and you nod, because of course, of course you are.

“I’m happy wherever I am, as long as I’m with you.” You say simply, and he groans, just puts more cake in your mouth, making you giggle.

“You’re cheesy.” He grumbles, but he’s blushing.

“Maybe, but you married me.” You wink, “Just think, once the place is all fixed up, it’s going to be so beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.” Kylo responds, and you laugh, get up from the little kitchen table to put the forks and plates in the sink to deal with later.

“Who’s the cheesy one now?” You tease, when suddenly something rushes under your foot and you drop the things you’re holding in shock with a, “Oh shit!”

“You okay?” Kylo is by your side, and your heart races until you hear a soft meow coming from behind a cabinet where whatever it was that spooked you had gone to hide.

“Yeah, there’s just, we have a cat, apparently.” You sigh, before smiling to yourself, feeling silly.

“Huh?” Kylo frowns, and you walk over to the pantry where a beautiful calico kitty has scurried.

Her fur is glossy and thick, and she doesn’t look emaciated. When you open your hands to her, she sniffs your palms before headbutting you, purring loudly. Poor thing was well fed but in desperate need for some company, if no one had been around as long as Kylo had said.

“She’s nice, look. No collar though, probably lives in the barn or something.” You say, and the cat lets you scoop her up into your arms.

You’ll probably need to take her into town for a vet check-up, but for now, she doesn’t look sick and you can’t see any fleas, so you let her down gently. She winds around and around your ankles, brushing her fur against your calves, and you give Kylo a pleading look.

He doesn’t say anything, only rolls his eyes and leaves the room, grabbing the broom and the mop on his way, which means you are victorious.

The next morning, you’re lounging in bed trying to get a decent phone signal to check your twitter when there’s a knocking at the door.

“Honey? Could you get that?” Kylo calls from the bathroom where he has managed to fix the plumbing and take a shower.

You abandon your phone, a signal no where to be found, and wrap yourself up in your robe. Once downstairs, you look through the peephole of the front door.

Standing on the porch are three men, one much older, and two younger ones who look to be identical twins. The twins are boys really, just barely getting through puberty from the looks of it. They’re clearly family, sharing the same crop of red hair and sprinkling of freckles, and when you open the door they all give you the same smile. It’s a slightly disconcerting smile, particularly on one of the twins, who looks like he isn’t used to the gesture, like it hurts his face almost.

“Mornin’ miss!” The eldest reaches a hand out for you to shake, “My name’s Brendol, these are my sons, Armitage and William, you must be (Y/N)?” He asks.

“Yes, that’s right, it’s a pleasure to meet you, but what can I do for you?” You ask in return, shaking his hand so as to not be rude.

“Actually, it’s what we can do for you – we saw this ad you put out in the paper?” Brendol unfolds the newspaper clipping, and your eyebrows shoot up.

“Jesus that was quick!” You can’t help but exclaim, you really had thought it would take much longer, days at the very least, for someone to want to reach out, but a quick glance at the clock told you it was not even seven o’clock in the morning, the sun taking its time to rise with the changing seasons.

“Let’s not take the Lord’s name in vain now.” Brendol says, entirely too cheerfully, and you blink, feeling scolded.

“Oh, sorry.” You cringe just a little, no one cared about something like that in the city, you’d have to be careful so as to not accidentally offend anyone here in the mountains. “My husband’s just finishing up in the shower, please come in, can I pour you some coffee?” You open the door wide enough to invite them in, and they all smile once again, almost on cue, all together.

“That’d be mighty fine, thank you.” Brendol says, and you step aside so they can pass.

You offer them a seat at the table and set to finding mugs, making sure your robe is tied tightly around your waist so that you don’t accidentally expose yourself, both for their and your sakes.

“I’m sorry for not being more presentable, I honestly didn’t think we’d hear from anyone so soon.” You explain with a little chuckle, trying to be friendly, “Or at least, so early.”

“F-farm folk get up with sun and go down with it. You can expect us h-here helpin’ from dusk till’ dawn, if you think we’d – if you decide we’re a good fit.” One of the boys, William says with a very soft voice. He seems nice, you think. Shy, but nice.

“That’s very kind of you, but if you don’t mind I’m going to leave that decision to my husband. He knows more about being handy than I do, that’s for sure.” You chuckle, and Brendol gives you another one of those smiles.

“No problem at all.” He nods understandingly, and you feel some awkward tension rising.

Luckily, the coffee pot comes to a stop just then, and you are quick to pour a mug for the man, a little thing of cream and sugar already on the table.

“Armitage, William, would you like coffee too?” You ask, reaching for mugs for them, but the boys protest right away.

“Oh, no thank you m-ma’am, no that’s alright.” William puts his hands up as if you’ve just threatened to hit him, and you frown.

These were strange people, you think to yourself, before shaking the thought away. It wasn’t ever good to judge, you remind yourself, because you were sure that to them, you and Kylo would be pretty weird too.

“Juice, if you happen to have?” Armitage asks, and that’s an easy enough request.

“Of course.” You pour them both a tall glass of orange juice, before you begin to grow too uncomfortable, just standing there while they drink. “Would you excuse me a minute, I’m just going to let my husband know we have visitors.”

You practically bolt up the stairs, scaring the poor kitty who you still need to think of a name for. The shower is still running when you open the door to the

“(Y/N!)” Your husband pokes his head around the plastic liner, the two of you not having gotten around to getting a real shower curtain just yet, and you can’t help but smile at the way his hair is plastered to his face, how his ears stick out, “Hey honey, would you look at this the water pressure’s great!”

“That’s wonderful sweetheart but there are people downstairs in the kitchen, they want to talk to you about the handywork.” You gesture towards the kitchen, and Kylo frowns.

“Fuck, already?” He asks, and you nod, desperate to not be left alone with them anymore.

“I know! That’s what I said.” You say, and he’s already reaching for the handle, pushing it to stop the water flow as you ask, “Come down soon?”

“Yeah, give me like two seconds.” He nods, and you sigh with relief, heading back down the stairs to the kitchen where Brendol and his sons still sit at the table.

You more or less twiddle your thumbs for a minute, before something dawns on you.

“You know it’s funny, but, I don’t think I put my first name down on the ad.” You say, trying to keep the conversation light, aloof.

“Pardon?” Brendol asks, and you shrug.

“When you came to the door,” You explain, fiddling with the tie of your robe, “You said, ‘you must be (Y/N).’ And I am, only, I don’t think that was anywhere on the ad. Do you happen to know my husband at all?” You ask.

“No, no I don’t believe we’ve met.” Brendol says as he licks his lips, appraises you in a way that makes you want to draw at the same time as your husband comes bounding down the stairs two steps at a time.

“Hey! Sorry for the wait, I’m Kylo, Kylo Ren.” He extends a hand, and all three of them stand up, all give him a great big smile.

“That’s a funny name.” Armitage comments off-handedly, but Brendol only smacks him upside the head, hard.

You and Kylo both exchange a quick glance, but your husband isn’t intimidated.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He says, before gesturing to the front door, “Would you guys like to come with me, I can show you the property while we talk?”

They agree, and the four of them go outside, likely to appraise the level of work that needs to be done outside before any work can start inside.

You take the opportunity to go upstairs and change, get yourself ready for the day and go through your full routine as best as you can with mostly everything still packed. There’s a draft in the room from the poor ventilation which brings in the cold, so you throw on a sweater and one of Kylo’s big jackets over it before peeking out through the bay window.

There had been…issues, in the past. Things that had gotten Kylo in trouble, back before he was Kylo. Issues you didn’t want anyone knowing about, that no one could go asking about. It was a big draw to moving here, moving away from the city, moving away from the past.

You didn’t like the feeling of this family, of these men. Didn’t like the way they smiled or looked at you, didn’t like the way they acted with one another. You had half a mind to call child protective services, those twins had to be fifteen, sixteen at the most. Your mind keeps flashing to William bracing when you only asked him if he’d like coffee, that can’t…that just can’t be healthy.

But as you watch them walk around the house, they begin to speak expertly about different renovations, different things that need to be done. You can’t hear all of it, not from all the way upstairs, so you creep down the steps, careful of the spots where the wood was weak.

“We’ll be here bright and early tomorrow, thank you again.” You can hear from the front porch as you look through the peephole once more.

“No no, really, thank you.” Kylo says back, waiting for them to climb in their truck which they’ve parked next to yours out front. He puts a hand up to wave with a, “Have a good day, see you.”

You scare him just a little when he opens the door to find you directly behind it, and you search his face to see if they made him as uncomfortable as they made you.

“It went well?” You ask, and Kylo nods, smoothing his hands up your arms and kissing the top of your head as he passes you.

“Yeah, I’m going to draft up a contract for a month’s worth of work, and then we’ll get started.” He responds, going to the kitchen to pour himself a mug of coffee, it being so early in the day still.

“How much did they ask for?” You ask, doing the same, finally having a moment to relax now that company was gone.

“Nothing.” Kylo hums into his mug, and now his brow is furrowed, and his signature scowl has found its way back to your lips.

“Nothing?” You shake your head, “You can’t give them nothing, that’s taking advantage.”

“I know, I tried telling them that. All they asked was if they could stay in the barn until the month’s up.” Kylo shrugs, and something about that bothers you, but you don’t know why.

“The barn?” You ask, in case you misheard, but Kylo only shrugs again, looking just as confused as you are.

“Yeah, they were kind of insistent about it.” He explains, and you wonder if maybe they had nowhere else to stay, to live.

“That’s...” You don’t know, actually. You don’t know what it is.

“Yeah.” Kylo says, just to say something.

You two exchange a glance, and this time, there’s something strange in the air, something you can’t quite place.

You don’t know when exactly they move into the barn, but every day at sunrise they are doing work with Kylo in the house. Every day at sunrise you are woken up to the sounds of saws and hammers, drills and nail-guns.

Some days you greet them, but other days by the time you get dressed and ready for the day, they’re too engrossed in their labor to talk for too long, and other days still you avoid them entirely. They’re good workers, very good workers, and fast too. You look around the house, compare it to how it was just a few days ago to how it is now, and the difference is staggering.

Between the four of them, they’ve managed to completely redo the wood paneling on the outside of the house in a week. They tackle one room at a time, patching walls and fixing wiring, replacing the glass windows. You bring them glasses of water, of juice, tea, whatever they ask for, make sandwiches that they accept with a smile. You sweep and mop and dust after them, and soon the place is looking really nice, looking liveable, and not run-down, not a code violation – if there even were codes out here.

They are good workers but.

But.

The smiles…you don’t know.

“You ever notice something, odd about them?” You ask Kylo one day, as you’re both driving back home from a trip into town.

This time to pick up some various hardware supplies they need. You’re almost at a point where you can start wall-papering and painting the house, and it’s exciting, so exciting to see it come back to life. Kylo had managed to save a few scraps of the paper, a few chips of paint, and you had gone to the home improvement store to match it. Lucky for you, nothing ever seemed to change, and his mood is so high when he discovers the exact same colors and patterns are still there.

You have bundles and cans of it in the bed of the truck, as you pull through the gate once more, crossing onto your property. The sun is setting behind the mountains, casting that beautiful orangey-pinky glow across the land, and everything seems more or less picturesque, perfect.

“About who?” Kylo asks, lost in thought, tapping his gloved hands against the steering wheel to the music from the radio.

“The Huxes.” You clarify, and he frowns.

“What do you mean?” He asks, immediately frowning, protective, so incredibly protective.

“I don’t know. Something about them creeps me out.” You say softly when the truck pulls up to the front of the house, the men in question nowhere in sight. “I don’t like the way they stare.” You whisper.

The stares had been the worst, worse than the smiles, you think. It was a haunting feeling, the kind where you could tell someone was looking at you, could tell you were being watched, everywhere from the living room to the closet.

And yet, each and every time you try to catch someone’s gaze, no one seems to be paying you any attention.

Kylo’s grip tightens on the gear shift as he puts the truck into park, reaches across the bench to kiss you soundly.

“I’ll talk to them about it, the month is almost over, and then they’ll be gone.” He says, not needing to or wanting to question you about it, taking your word for it, and for that you’re grateful. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were feeling so uncomfortable, I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

You just nod, so relieved, so in love with your husband for not pushing the issue, that you can only kiss him back soundly.

You both carry things to the front porch, when suddenly you scream, let out the most horrified sound, drop the paint cants onto the wood as you cover your mouth in disgust and horror.

“Oh my god!” You scream, “Fuck – oh my god!”

“Honey?” Kylo drops what he’s carrying too and rushes to your side, collects you in his arms as you start to sob.

“Kylo there’s – she’s – something killed her!” You wail, not even able to get anything out, not able to articulate it because the image is so gruesome that you can’t get it out of your head, no room for anything else.

“Killed who, what?” He asks, and you point to the other side of the porch where the cat, the poor sweet calico, lays decapitated in a puddle of slowly drying blood.

Flies swarm her, and you’re on the verge of vomiting. She must have been out there all day, all by herself, and you cry cry cry, you never even had the chance to name her.

“Look at that, that’s not – that’s not natural oh my god they took her head, Kylo why would they take her head?” You bury your face in his neck, and he just holds you close, soothes your back, tries and tries to help you calm down.

“What the fuck happened, you don’t think…?” Kylo asks, staring at the poor thing, and you hiccup, trying to clear your head so you can think.

(If you blame the men click here) (If you blame it on wild animals click here)

#reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo x reader #kylo/reader #my writing #dead dove do not eat #last straw

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 4 years

Text

Live a Little [Part 2] Small Talk [Billy Hargrove]

Tag List: @speedmetalqueen

Something strange is happening in Hawkins; the earth is sour.

By the time you return home on Wednesday, Hopper is there. His shrill and revolting Blazer is parked in the grass next to the company truck your Pops got from his boss at the mill. This concerns you a little – your Pops works long hours, so he isn’t usually home until 4 – but other than missing curfew, you feel as if you’ve done nothing to warrant Hopper’s attention.

It’s not unusual to see him here; at your house, having a drink with your father. They do this on occasion, but since the mess with the Buyer’s family, you haven’t seen him much. Which is why you feel anxious as you step up onto the front porch and greet him – neither he or your Pops look to be in a good mood.

“Been waiting on ya, girl. I had to take off work for Jim here to come and have a look at the field,” your father snaps. He spits tobacco juice over the railing and gives Hopper a dirty look.

This does not go by unnoticed as Hopper gives him one back. “Don’t blame this on me, you old bastard. You called me, remember?”

You pucker a brow. What could they be talking about? “I stayed over for a little bit; the drama teacher asked me to help her set up the stage. What is this about?”

“I just have some questions for you about the pumpkin patch,” Hopper mentions. He gestures towards your father. “Clark says you were the first to notice them … rotting and shit.”

You snort – police work does not suit him. “Yeah, before I left for school on Monday.”

“Same thing is happening all over town,” Hopper states. “Mind showing me where you first saw it.”

Your father shakes his head. He mumbles under his breath, but doesn’t say no. Instead he spits over the railing again, and walks into the house with a huff. You understand why; the same question eludes you. Why does Hopper need you to show him?

The anxious feeling in your gut comes to life again, but regardless you lead Hopper off the porch and towards the field.

A few meters from the house you see the damaged patches. It smells awful, but you suck it up and trek on.

“Right over there is where I first noticed it. Pops set up a marker to remind himself so he could section off the bad from the good,” you explain. You point towards the metal post sticking out of the ground.

Hopper moves towards it, but you stay just outside of the border, so not to ruin your school shoes – Momma would have a cow. As he examines the husks of rotten fruit, you notice that the rate of decay seems to have increased since the last time you checked. Just about all of the plants are dead now; it’s a real mess. Bacteria from the earth slowly eats away at the fruit from the inside out, then webs on to the next patch, like a flesh eating virus.

“What do you think about all this? Seen anything like it before?”

You shrug to his question. “I have no earthly idea what happened to them; Pops is pissed though. He thinks someone is poisoning our field.” But who would do that to a bunch of pumpkins? Halloween is about the only season anyone would want one; there’s no money in it.

Hopper draws your attention with a snort. “Not this bullshit again. Every farmer in this damn town is putting blame on Merrill or Eugene; it’s more than that.”

“Then what do you believe is causing it? I thought at first the soil was too moist, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Maybe … hell I don’t know,” he answers. Sloshing back through the mud and the pumpkin innards, he stands beside you and lights a cigarette. “I got enough shit to worry about right now.”

Taking a drag, he sighs. “There ever been a time when you got mad at your Pops? But … all he did was try to protect you. Know what I’m trying to say? Like you thought he was being unfair when he wasn’t.”

You nearly laugh. He’s obviously got something on his mind, but with how prudent he is with his feelings, you doubt he will ever tell you.

“Only about a hundred times,” you confess. “I’ve even went as far as locking myself in my room for hours just to show him how pissed I was at him.”

You remember those times like it were yesterday; a gentle smile pulls at your lips. “But you know … once I calmed down a bit and thought it over, I realized that he was only trying to keep me safe. He was right to be scared; I could have been hurt. It made me so damn mad to be made out like a unpleasant child.”

“What did ya do? Take him on?”

You shake in disagreement. “I did nothing. He’s my father, and I love him. Be nothing like him, but always listen; that’s what he’d tell me.”

“Because you love him ––

Not sure if he means to say this out loud, you choose not to make a response. It doesn’t matter; Hopper will figure it out.

What concerns you is the state of the crops. If whatever is causing the ground to sour continues to spread, then nothing may ever grow on this land again. Who knows the course of action your father will take. He may even sell the farm.

Then what will you do? No farm means no second source of income if the symptoms should escalate.

“Looks like it might rain,” Says Hopper suddenly.

You glance up. Sure enough the sky is dull and gray.

Hopper should have been a soothsayer – his intuition is on the mark. The rain soaks you to the bone within minutes of stepping outside of the truck.

You can't stand that you know this word; soothsayer. Your brother is such a nerd, it’s hard to ignore the terms of Dungeons & Dragons when he prattles on day in and day out about them.

This little bit of information is just small talk; a distraction to keep your mind from focusing on the cool bite of the rain as it comes into contact with your skin. Horrible timing is what it is.

You throw a curse at your mother for putting you in this situation, and your brother for wanting to hang out with his friends on a dreary day such as this. It can’t be helped though. You doubt either of them knew it was going to rain.

Even so, it would not hurt the brat to meet you by the truck. Having to get out and jog across the parking lot of the arcade to fetch him made you want to scream. You cover your head the best you can, but the damage is all ready done.

Biting your tongue in annoyance, you make a dash for the door, but something catches your eye.

The frizzy haired girl is there. She stands under the awning so not to get wet. Your mind is full of questions, but honestly you doubt she even remembers you.

Passing by her with your head down, you enter the arcade and search for the brat. He’s not hard to find; he is near the Dig Dug machine with his friends. Reluctant as he is to leave – some jazz about beating a high score – you manage to bribe him with a promise to give Dungeons & Dragons a try. He agrees with a smile and follows you out.

As you step under the awning, the girl with the frizzy hair comes to mind again. She is still there. You notice that she doesn’t have her skateboard and wonder if she’s waiting for the rain to stop. Your brother goes to the truck without you.

“Do you maybe need a ride? The rain isn’t going to let up anytime soon.”

Her eyes move to you and widen a bit. “I can wait.”

Shy maybe. You aren’t sure. As an alternative, you offer her money for the payphone. She takes it with hesitancy, and goes inside to make her call. Minutes later, she returns and gives you back the extra change.

“Look … if you’re doing this to get points with Billy, then you’re going about it wrong,” she explains with a scowl. “He and I aren’t exactly close.”

You figure she means Goldie. Heat spreads to your face. “Consider it payback for the awkward first encounter we had.”

“You’re not the first; trust me. But you are the first girl he’s brought home that doesn’t fit his type.”

You knot your brows in confusion. “His type?”

She leans close. “You know … a slut.”

This almost makes you snort in laughter. You cover up your mouth to hide a smile. I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.

Raising up your hand, you offer it to her. “I’m [Y/N] by the way.”

She nods her head. “I’m Max.”

Max? Not hard to remember.

A horn suddenly goes off across the parking lot and you shoot a glare at your brother as he urges you to hurry. He can be so impatient sometimes.

“It was nice meeting you Max. Don’t hesitate to ask if ever you need a ride.”

She nods again. “I’ll remember that.”

You wave and head back into the rain. This was embarrassing, but a least you don’t feel so much like an idiot now that you’ve introduced yourself to Max. You just hope this doesn’t get back to Billy. No telling how he’d take it.

Talk about awkward.

#billy hargove x reader #stranger things #romance #maxine mayfield #jim hopper #billy hargrove

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

In Sickness and In Health (Branjie)- athena2

A/N: Brooke gets sick and ends up in the hospital. Luckily Vanessa is always there to keep her together.

This is just a little sick fic I’ve had in progress and decided to finish to work through some writer’s block and hopefully get some writing inspiration. It’s fluffy with some mild angst, and I hope you enjoy! Please leave feedback if you’d like, it always means a lot to me! Thank you Writ for betaing and all your encouragement!

*There is hospitalization and mild medical talk. It’s not graphic, but do be cautious*

—

Vanessa wakes when the sun slips through the curtains, rolling over to bury her face in Brooke’s neck. For two years now she’s been waking up next to Brooke and each morning still feels like that first one, body bursting with tenderness and love Vanessa knew she’d have forever, even after just one night.

“Saturday morning pancake time!” Vanessa nudges Brooke’s side and she winces, covering it up with a loud groan.

“What’s wrong?” Vanessa’s trying not to worry, but Brooke hadn’t hidden that pain as well as she thought, and she just can’t help it.

“I’m just not really hungry for pancakes,” Brooke says quietly.

“You didn’t eat lunch or dinner yesterday either,” Vanessa adds, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.

“My stomach’s a little off, I guess.”

“Is there anything you are hungry for?” she tries.

“Toast, maybe?”

Vanessa leads Brooke out of bed and seats her at the table, setting a plate of toast in front of her a few minutes later. She watches with intense eyes as Brooke takes two bites and sips at a glass of water.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to watch me like I’m a baby,” she insists when she sees Vanessa staring. Brooke hates to be fussed over, and Vanessa tries to be more discreet the rest of the day, as she keeps her eye on Brooke, watching her act less and less like herself. They go to the farmer’s market and Brooke doesn’t eat the strawberries right out of the container like she always does, her normally graceful walk slow and hunched slightly, and has nothing but a cup of tea for lunch even though it’s her favorite cafe.

She shoots Nina a text with Brooke’s symptoms, needing someone reasonable. Nina is a fellow kindergarten teacher and one of Vanessa’s best friends at work, and she commands Vanessa and Brooke to come over for dinner once a month because she loves them so much. The reply makes her legs quiver: My niece had something similar. Ended up being her appendix. If she’s still sick Monday, you might want to get her to a doctor. Though I know that’ll be hard with how stubborn Brooke is.

By the time she checks Brooke for a fever that night, the worry is like a block of cement in her chest.

“You feel kinda warm,” Vanessa says as Brooke bats her hand away from her forehead.

“I’m fine.”

Vanessa sighs. “Brooke, you haven’t eaten in two days and your stomach still hurts. You been wincing all day, don’t think I can’t see it. And I’m pretty sure you have a fever. If you’re not better by Monday, you’re going to the hospital, and I don’t want to hear a single argument, Mary.”

Brooke holds up her hands in surrender. “Okay. But I’m not sick. It’s just a little stomach ache. I’m sure I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

—

It’s just past 6am Sunday morning when the sound of someone throwing up wakes Vanessa from her sleep, and she rushes to the bathroom, Brooke kneeling on the floor by the toilet.

“Brooke, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she groans, flushing the toilet. “Nothing in me to throw up, really.”

Vanessa hands her a cup of water and sits on the floor next to her, stroking Brooke’s long hair. Brooke’s skin is always fair but she’s white as a sheet now, with purple circling her eyes. She’s going to the hospital, no matter what Vanessa has to do to get her there.

Brooke swishes the water around and spits back in the toilet rather than the sink, and Vanessa thinks it’s because she’s too weak to stand.

“Your stomach still hurts?”

“It’s not that bad.”

Brooke is still denying it, but it doesn’t escape Vanessa that she’s gone from ‘I’m fine’ to ‘It’s not that bad’. That’s about as close to an admission of illness that she’ll get from Brooke, and Vanessa rests a hand on her forehead again. It’s not burning hot but it’s warmer than last night, and her hand comes back sticky with sweat. Brooke hasn’t even swatted at her, another sign of how sick she must be.

“You’re warmer now, I think,” Vanessa says gently. “You’ve been like this since Friday and I don’t think you’re getting any better. Will you let me take you to the ER? Please?”

“Okay.” Brooke caves softly, and Vanessa worries more than ever as she speeds to the hospital.

—-

The next few hours are a whirlwind. They spend about 15 minutes with a doctor in one of the exam rooms before Brooke is admitted with a likely case of appendicitis and set up in a hospital bed, nurses in and out drawing blood samples, placing thermometers in her mouth, inserting an IV in her arm, sometimes taking Brooke away for more tests. The doctor orders some sort of scan and a nurse tells Brooke to drink two jumbo Styrofoam cups of something that Brooke grumbles tastes like chalk, grimacing with each sip.

Vanessa just sits in the hard plastic chair next to Brooke’s bed, giving her encouraging smiles that aren’t working. All Vanessa can do is watch as Brooke flinches each time her IV gets caught, her hand clutching at her side when she moves wrong. It must suck to be in that bed but it sucks just as much to be in the chair next to it, watching Brooke suffer and being unable to do a thing to help her. Vanessa would take her place in an instant.

She’s trying to stay calm for Brooke’s sake, but her wife looking so small and fragile in a hospital bed is one of the scariest things Vanessa’s ever seen in her life. Brooke never gets sick. She hasn’t had anything worse than a cold in the two years they’ve been married, and hated every second of them; hated having people fuss over her and act like she was weak. Vanessa, on the other hand, caught every virus known to the world from her kindergarteners and didn’t mind having Brooke cover her in blankets and make her soup. Vanessa’s never been the caretaker before, and she’s not sure how much longer she can keep this up.

“It’s freezing in here,” Brooke complains, pulling the blanket up high over her thin hospital gown, grimacing as it tugs on her IV.

It is cold in the room, cold enough that Vanessa can’t just blame it on Brooke’s fever.

“Here.” She takes off her coat and lays it on top of Brooke’s shivering body, met with immediate protests that she shuts down just as fast.

“How did I even get sick in the first place? I shouldn’t be sick. Do you think I did something to my appendix? What if–”

Leave it to Brooke to blame herself for being in the hospital. “Brooke, you didn’t do anything. Something like this is totally beyond your control, there’s nothing you could have done to cause it,” Vanessa soothes. “And besides, we don’t even know for sure that’s what it is.”

“Well, based on Google, I’m pretty convinced, but if I had my phone back–”

“You’re not getting it back.”

“Please? I’m so bored.” Brooke whines, her pout so pitiful Vanessa almost caves. But the whole reason she took it is so Brooke can’t type her symptoms into WebMD and convince herself she’s dying, and Vanessa holds firm even though it physically pains her.

“How much longer am I gonna be stuck here?” Brooke taps her fingers impatiently on the bed rail.

It’s not even 10am yet, but it feels like they’ve been through an entire day, with no idea of how much longer this will go on. Brooke is restless in the bed, wringing her hands, flicking through TV channels and not watching a single one, fiddling with her hospital bracelet. She keeps touching the empty space on her ring finger, the ring currently in Vanessa’s purse since it had to be removed for the scan. She’d give it back to Brooke to comfort her and maybe help her relax a little, but what’s the point? It’d probably have to come off again eventually, and she doesn’t think anything could relax her wife right now. Brooke is color-coded schedules and careful planning, her days laid out in detail, from meetings at work to shopping trips and dinner dates with Vanessa. She likes preparation, knowing exactly how her day will go. Being trapped in a hospital bed, not knowing how long she’ll be stuck there, how long until a nurse gets her for another test or tells her what’s wrong, must be one of the worst things in the world for her.

“I know, baby, but we just gotta wait.”

Brooke heaves a loud sigh, followed by a wince. “I don’t want to be here! I hate this! I hate this stupid bed and I can’t even move without this stupid IV digging in my arm and I had to drink a gallon of fucking melted chalk for that CT scan and they still won’t even say what’s wrong with me and my stomach hurts, Ness.”

The outburst scares her just as much as it breaks her heart. Vanessa has noticed Brooke slowly losing her grip over the past three hours, but it doesn’t mean she’s any more prepared when she finally crumbles. Brooke has always been her rock, keeping them focused with her schedules, doing the grocery shopping when Vanessa forgets, taking the day off work just to help Vanessa decorate her classroom every year. It was Brooke who Vanessa would cling to when she was stressed and having a shitty day, Brooke who would give her a massage and listen to her rants. Even during Brooke’s times of insecurity where she was up all night stressing over case notes, worrying that she wasn’t good enough, she’s never fallen apart quite like this, and Vanessa knows she’ll have to weather the storm to keep Brooke whole.

She loosens the deathgrip Brooke has on the railing and rubs her thumb over the back of Brooke’s hand in soothing circles. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna get through this together, okay?”

Brooke gives a weak nod.

“Why didn’t you say the pain got worse?”

Brooke just shrugs. “Didn’t want to bother anyone.”

Oh, fuck her Canadian politeness. Vanessa takes a breath. “Okay, first of all, you’re not bothering anyone. You gotta say when you need something. Now how about I call the nurse and have her bring you some more painkillers?”

Brooke nods again.

A minute later a nurse injects something in Brooke’s IV, saying that the test results should be coming soon, and Brooke’s shoulders lose some of their tightness, the pinched lines that had taken over her features smoothing out. She keeps frowning at her missing wedding ring, but she does nod along as Vanessa talks to distract her, telling her stories about what the kids in her class got up to last week. Brooke even manages a smile that is erased the second the doctor walks in.

The doctor is talking, telling them it’s appendicitis and they have Brooke scheduled for surgery in an hour; the surgery is some laparo-something mumbo-jumbo, it’s minimally invasive and the recovery is so quick Brooke can probably go home tomorrow.

Vanessa’s trying to listen, she really is, but the second the word surgery comes out Brooke’s face falls, and Vanessa can see the wheels spinning in Brooke’s mind as she spirals.

The doctor says the nurses and the surgeon will be in soon to go over some information, and then she leaves, Brooke’s breaths turning to shallow pants.

“Brooke–” Vanessa begins.

“I don’t want surgery,” Brooke huffs.

“Br–”

“Ness, please, I just wanna go home.” Her voice is small, barely more than a whisper, and Vanessa would rip her out of the bed and take her home right this second if she didn’t know Brooke needed to be in the hospital.

She’s scared, Vanessa realizes as her heart shatters. For all the cool confidence Brooke projects at her law firm, all the men she makes quiver with a single glance, Brooke’s never been sick like this, never even been hospitalized before. Vanessa squeezes her hand, trying to find the right words to soothe Brooke and keep her together. She’s talked several kindergarteners down from temper tantrums in her day, and while she knows Brooke would protest at being compared to a five-year-old, the calming process is roughly the same.

“I know you wanna go home, honey, I know. But you need to stay here and have the surgery to make you feel better, okay? And then once you’re better, we’ll go home and we can lay on the couch and watch anything you want. Even them scary-ass murder shows.”

Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa thinks it worked, but then more comes pouring out of Brooke as she lifts her head up from the bed.

“But what if something goes wrong, what if it’s more serious than they think and they can’t fix it, what if-”

“Shh,” she whispers, stroking Brooke’s hair with her other hand. “You’re gonna be fine. They do this shit like a hundred times a day. It’s no big deal. The doctor said it’s quick and you can probably go home tomorrow. It’s gonna be okay.”

Brooke bites her lip and Vanessa thinks she might protest, but her eyes search Vanessa’s, see the love reflected there, and Brooke settles back against the pillows. “Okay.”

Vanessa climbs up into Brooke’s bed, turning on her side, careful to avoid her abdomen. “I ain’t giving you your phone, but how about we watch cat videos on mine?”

Brooke smiles in agreement. The two of them are still huddled together, watching a cat play the piano, when nurses arrive to take Brooke down for the surgery.

“Ness,” she pleads, hand flailing around, breaths coming in quick pants, as the nurses start moving the bed.

Vanessa’s starting to worry too despite how relaxed she’s been for the past four hours, and she digs for the last ounces of calm within her.

She takes Brooke’s hand and squeezes it tight. “You’re okay, Brooke. You’re gonna be fine. It’s gonna be over really quick, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” Brooke asks nervously.

“I promise.” She twirls her pinky around Brooke’s larger one, bending down to kiss Brooke’s forehead.

The nurses take Brooke away, speaking calmly to her as they move down the hall, one staying behind to take Vanessa to the waiting room, where she finally, finally, loses her calm.

She paces back and forth across the waiting room rug so fast she makes herself dizzy. Her phone buzzes with a text from Nina, who Vanessa has been updating the past few hours.

Brooke will be fine. She’s tough as nails. Try to stay calm. Don’t forget to drink and eat something too.

She knows Nina is right, that she doesn’t need to worry about Brooke. Brooke has made her way to the top of her law firm over men who constantly wanted to bring her down, has spoken at meetings where she was the only woman in the room. Brooke told Vanessa she once did a dance performance with a broken toe as a teenager. She has no doubt in her mind Brooke will come out of this just fine and recover even faster than expected. She knows it’s a routine procedure, that there’s probably nothing to worry about.

But still.

How can she sit down and relax or eat anything when Brooke is behind those doors, all alone in a sea of scrubs and monitors, having her skin cut open?

Vanessa sits down in another uncomfortable chair because she might start crying soon. She spins her wedding band and engagement ring around her finger, thinking of how Brooke had proposed on her birthday and Vanessa was so surprised it took her a few seconds to throw herself at Brooke and say yes.

She wants Brooke back now. Neither of them did well when they were apart. Vanessa had gone to a teachers’ conference last year and was unable to sleep in her plush hotel bed that was just too empty, coming home to see Brooke with deep bags beneath bloodshot eyes as she admitted that she couldn’t sleep without Vanessa kicking her in the middle of the night.

She checks the time. It’s only been 15 minutes. The doctor said the surgery would take about an hour and then they’d bring Brooke to the recovery room for the anesthesia to wear off before Vanessa could see her. Vanessa hates that she won’t be there when Brooke first wakes up, but the doctor said Brooke would be very sleepy and disoriented and might not even remember the recovery room.

She gets another text from Nina suggesting that she visit the gift shop to keep herself busy, and that’s what she does. It better be well-stocked, because Vanessa is a stress shopper and she could clean the bitch out right now.

She strides past bags of chips and candy and cookies, knowing Brooke won’t be able to eat for a while. She finds bright sunflowers and lilies and grabs a stuffed whale with Get Whale Soon printed on its back, which should make Brooke smile at least.

She stashes her bags on a chair and resumes her pacing, minutes ticking by like sludge until she hears a doctor call her name.

“Everything went well. She’s okay.”

Vanessa hears those words and can’t really pay attention to the rest, body ready to run to wherever Brooke is, to see her with her own eyes and know she’s okay.

“Can I see her?” she blurts, not caring about her rudeness.

The doctor smiles, probably used to people ruder than her. “We’re moving her into her room now, and then a nurse will take you to see her. She’s asleep right now; she’ll probably be in and out for another couple hours and she’ll be a little groggy. We’d like to keep her overnight for observation, but there were no complications and she should be able to go home tomorrow.”

The relief is overwhelming, and Vanessa has to grab at her chest to stay standing. She’s okay. Brooke is okay. The thoughts are on loop as the nurse takes her to Brooke’s room, leaving with instructions to call if they need anything.

All she needs right now is Brooke, every ounce of Vanessa’s focus trained on her wife. Brooke is pale, almost as pale as the sheets, and she looks so small, not like Vanessa’s entire body can fit against her. But her face is peaceful as she sleeps and Vanessa is grateful she’s at least not in any pain.

She arranges a florist’s worth of flowers on the window and rests the whale against Brooke’s leg, avoiding her abdomen. The doctor said they made three small incisions and sealed them with sutures that dissolve on their own, which sounds like some sci-fi shit to Vanessa. The rise of Brooke’s chest is soft and steady and Vanessa finds herself matching it, all her fears from the past hours melting away. She’s okay. Brooke is okay.

She settles into another hard chair and waits.

—-

“N-Ness?” Brooke’s voice is hoarse and foggy and it’s the best thing Vanessa’s heard in hours.

“I’m here.”

Brooke is trying to turn her head but not getting anywhere, and Vanessa stands up so Brooke can see her.

“Good.” Brooke’s glassy eyes slide shut and she takes a deep breath before forcing them back open, like she’s afraid Vanessa will disappear if they close too long.

“You can go back to sleep, baby. I’ll still be here.”

“‘Kay.”

Brooke is asleep seconds later.

—-

“Ness?” Brooke’s voice is a bit clearer, a bit stronger this time.

“I’m here, honey. Do you feel okay?”

“Mmm. You’re here.”

Brooke’s right hand is moving, or trying to anyway, the motion wobbly and slow. A frustrated wrinkle forms between her eyebrows. It’s adorable, but Vanessa reaches down to take Brooke’s hand so she doesn’t get too upset.

“I’m here. I promised, didn’t I?”

“I love you.” Vanessa’s not sure if it’s just her or the leftover anesthesia mixed with painkillers, but Brooke’s eyes are clearer than before and she’ll never tire of Brooke saying she loves her.

“I love you too, baby.” She reaches down near Brooke’s leg and pulls up the gift resting there. “I got you a whale.”

“I love it,” Brooke gasps, mouth falling open, and Vanessa releases her hand so Brooke can hold it, her fingers clumsily stroking the whale’s head.

“Thank you for staying,” Brooke says.

“Of course, baby. I’m always gonna stay with you.”

She leans down to kiss Brooke, and she knows the words will always be true.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #fluff #hurt/comfort #mild angst #athena2 #tw hospitalization #tw mild medical talk #concrit welcome #submission

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vernonfielding · 5 years

Text

Heads and Hot Dogs and the Best Day Ever

This story was written for @nerd-husbands for @b99fandomevents. The prompt was a case from Nikolaj’s point of view. Nerd-husbands, I know your first writer couldn’t participate after all, but that’s their loss because I was delighted to get to write for you! I had a lot of fun with this prompt, and I hope you enjoy your story.

Thank you to @fezzle for the speedy beta. And thank you to @startofamoment and @elsaclack for organizing this fic exchange and letting me bounce in at the last minute (actually AFTER the last minute).

Read on AO3.

Before Nikolaj came to Brooklyn he was scared of police officers. So scared. There had been a woman at the orphanage who told the boys that if they didn’t behave then the police would come and take them away, and Niko believed her. The funny thing is that the police did take him away, even though he always behaved, and it was the best thing that ever happened to him.

He wasn’t afraid of Daddy, of course, because Daddy wasn’t scary and also he didn’t know that Daddy was a police officer before he met him. But the first time he went with Daddy to the Nine-Nine he was terrified.

When Niko saw Sergeant Terry he hid behind Daddy’s legs because he’d never seen anyone so big, and Sergeant Terry had been yelling at someone on the phone. But when Daddy introduced them Sergeant Terry smiled so wide that it was impossible not to smile back at him, and then he got down on one knee and offered to shake Niko’s hand, which no one had ever done to him before. After that, Niko loved Terry.

He loved Sergeant Amy too, even though she sometimes got nervous around him, and was always asking him funny questions like if he wanted to play with her stapler or her hole puncher when he saw her at her desk. She had the best pens and pencils. He loved Captain Holt, who was always so serious and had a face like a statue, and he loved Mr. Kevin, who had given him a book of Latvian fairy tales when they met. He loved Gina because she told him stories that he didn’t understand but that made him laugh anyway. And Niko especially loved Jake, because he was silly and he was Daddy’s best friend.

But he loved Detective Rosa best of all. Rosa smelled like leather and motor oil and fresh flowers from the farmer’s market, and she had long shiny hair and dark eyes that held secrets and a special-occasion smile. Rosa reminded him a little bit about the good things from Latvia, the things he didn’t want to forget. Also, sometimes she let him look at the knives she kept in her desk.

“Rosa, I need a huge favor.” Niko looked up from the comic book he’d been reading at Daddy’s desk. His school had been canceled last minute because of a plumbing problem so Niko had gone to work with Daddy, which he didn’t mind, even though it was Tuesday and they had hot dogs on Tuesday. Niko only ever got hot dogs at school and they were his favorite food.

“You know I don’t do favors, Boyle,” Rosa said.

“I know, but I’m really stuck. Jake and I just got a huge break in that-” Daddy looked back at Niko, gave him a thumbs up, and then mouthed “murder” at Rosa. Niko rolled his eyes, just a little, and pretended to go back to reading. “And I just need you to look after Niko, for like, an hour.”

“Sure.”

Niko’s head popped up and he was sure he looked just as shocked as Daddy did. “Sure? Just like that?”

“Sure,” Rosa said.

“Well, okay, that’s great.” Daddy backed away slowly from Rosa’s desk. “If you’re sure-”

“Go now, Charles,” Rosa said.

Daddy ran back to his desk and kissed Niko on top of the head. “Be good for Detective Rosa. I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Niko said and smiled wide so Daddy would know he was okay.

Jake came by just then and they grabbed their jackets and their guns and Daddy patted his pockets to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything and they left.

“You want to ransack Santiago’s desk for pens?” Rosa said.

“Yes please.” Niko jumped up and followed Rosa to the elevator. This was going to be the best day.

+++

Sergeant Amy wasn’t at work today, Rosa said, but Niko knew which desk was hers right away because of the framed photo of her and Jake, up close to the camera and smiling really big and looking goofy. Hers was also the only desk with all of the office supplies lined up by size. Rosa told Niko to take all of the pens, and she showed him a special box shoved to the very back of one drawer that had even more pens, in black and blue mostly but also green and red and purple and one called coriander.

“Are you sure Sergeant Amy won’t mind?”

“She won’t even notice they’re missing,” said Rosa, with the kind of smile that was only for herself, like she was thinking happy things.

Rosa asked how old Niko was as they were riding up the elevator.

“Daddy thinks I’m 8 years old,” Niko said.

“He thinks you are? He doesn’t know?”

“Oh no, no one knows. They kept terrible records at the orphanage.” Niko looked up at Rosa and put on his best Boyle smile, the one with all of his teeth. “May I push all of the buttons on the elevator after we get to our floor?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you, Detective Rosa!”

“Just call me Rosa.”

“Okay!”

+++

Niko was drawing an amazing picture with unicorns and a rainbow and Captain Latvia that he planned to leave on Sergeant Amy’s desk later, to say thank you for the pens, when Captain Holt came up to Rosa. He handed her a file and said, “We just got a lead on those decapitated-” he glanced at Niko, bared his teeth in what was maybe supposed to be a smile, “-things that keep showing up in subway stations. Can you work the case?”

He looked meaningfully at Niko again, and Niko bent further over his drawing. Rosa said, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Not long after that, a woman came in. Rosa said she was a witness. She sat in a chair beside Rosa’s desk and Rosa asked about what she’d found in the apartment next to hers, and the woman clutched her purse very close to her chest and sucked her lips into her mouth and didn’t say anything. Rosa said, in a kind, careful voice, that the woman didn’t have to be afraid. The woman shook her head and held her purse even tighter.

Then Rosa said something in Spanish, and the woman said “sí” and nodded a little. They talked back in forth in Spanish, until finally Rosa said thank you and took out a notebook and a pen and started writing.

Niko didn’t know a lot of Spanish, but he knew a little. He kept his head down and pretended not to listen. It was mostly the woman talking, but every time Rosa asked a question, Niko felt something warm in his chest, like he was safe. He wanted Rosa to ask him questions too.

+++

Rosa hung up her phone and said to Niko, “Your dad’s going to be a little longer. He said he brought lunch for you.”

“Oh.” Niko glanced over at the refrigerator where he’d seen Daddy put both of their lunch bags.

“What’d he bring?” Rosa said.

Niko looked up at her. Rosa’s eyes were narrowed.

“Squid ink ravioli with cheese from bat milk.” Niko swallowed the lump in his throat. “He says it’s my favorite.”

“Is it?”

Niko sighed and shook his head slowly.

“Do you want hot dogs instead?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

Rosa put on her leather jacket and made Niko put on his puffy jacket and they bought hot dogs from a street vendor right outside the precinct. Niko ordered his with extra ketchup and Rosa didn’t ask if he at least wanted to try the seeded brown mustard. Rosa ordered hers with ketchup and yellow mustard and extra pickles. She bought them a soda to share and they ate outside, even though it was so cold that his nose hurt and his cheeks and chin were numb by the time they had balled up their wrappers and thrown them away. They didn’t talk at all, and Niko enjoyed watching everyone walk in and out of the building – some smiling and relieved, some nervous like the lady who had talked to Rosa earlier, a few in handcuffs. One man started yanking at his cuffs as he was led up to the doors by two policemen in uniform. When he shoved his shoulder into one of them and almost knocked him down, Rosa got up and yelled “knock it off” and grabbed the man by the back of the neck and said something quiet in his ear. The man stopped fighting.

“Are you going to tell your dad that I fed you a hot dog?” Rosa said later, as they were walking back inside.

“I tell Daddy everything.”

“Good for you,” Rosa said, and he could tell she meant it.

+++

They were waiting for the elevator back upstairs when a voice called out “Rosa” and they turned together. A woman with short blond hair and a bright, friendly face was standing at the guard’s desk, hand held up in a wave. Rosa went back to her and Niko followed.

Rosa kissed the woman quickly on the mouth and said, “Did we have plans today? Because if we did I totally forgot, I’m sorry.”

The woman laughed and tugged on a strand of Rosa’s hair, where it had fallen over her eyes. “I should say yes and get the apology points,” she said. “But no, I was just in the neighborhood. Who’s your friend?”

She looked down at Niko, who smiled and waved.

“Nikolaj. Boyle’s kid.”

“And you’re, what-” The woman paused and lifted both eyebrows. “Oh wow, are you babysitting?”

“I’m just watching him while Boyle’s out in the field.”

“So, yes, babysitting.” The woman crouched down in front of Niko and grinned at him. “I’m Jocelyn. I hope you’re giving Rosa a hard time today.”

“Hi, Jocelyn,” Niko said. “I hope I am too.”

Jocelyn laughed again. Niko liked her laugh – it was sturdy, like she really meant it. Rosa must have liked it too because she laughed with her, kind of quiet and shy.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” Jocelyn said, moving her fingers in the air around the word “work.” Jake said those were air quotes and he made the same gesture around Daddy a lot.

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight,” Rosa said. They kissed once more and Jocelyn waved at Niko and then they were back at the elevator.

“Daddy said you’re bisexual and that means you like girls and boys,” Niko said, once the doors had closed.

“Yep.”

“Good,” Niko said. “I like girls and boys too.”

When he glanced back up at Rosa, she was looking at him like maybe she had something important to say. Then she just smiled a little and said, “Yeah, that’s good.”

+++

They moved to the briefing room after lunch. Rosa stuck photos to a board that was turned away from him and she told him not to look, not even a peak. Then she opened the file Captain Holt had given her and started reading papers from it and sticking pins into a map on another board. It looked like fun and Niko asked if he could help. Rosa said she wished he could, but she was working on a very serious case and it might go to a trial in front of a judge, and if that happened then every single thing she did to solve it would be questioned. Niko understood. A judge might not like it if a kid helped solve a case, even if he only helped a tiny bit.

Instead, he asked what she was doing, and Rosa said she was marking all of the locations where a crime had occurred to see if there was anything that connected them. She explained that sometimes it was easier to see the connections than it was to imagine them just by reading individual reports.

“Like connecting the dots,” Niko said.

Rosa laughed, only this time it was a sound just like a bark. Niko was so startled by it that he jumped a little in his seat, but then he laughed too.

“Yeah, it’s actually just like connecting the dots,” she said.

Niko preferred word searches and “I Spy” games, but he liked the connect-the-dots too in the puzzle books Daddy sometimes brought home for him. Most of the time he could already tell by the way the dots were arranged what the finished drawing was going to look like, but sometimes it was a mystery until the very end, and those were the best ones. He looked up at the pins on the map. Rosa was now stringing colorful yarn between them, creating a pattern of criss-crossed lines that was beautiful but didn’t seem to reveal anything. Solving a case seemed very difficult. It was no wonder they didn’t want 8-year-olds to help.

Then Rosa set a spool of yarn in front of him, and a small plastic box filled with pins. She showed him an area of the map, in the lower right corner, where he could work.

“I can put the pins anywhere?” Niko said.

“Anywhere in this box,” Rosa said, and she drew imaginary lines with her finger to show him the boundaries.

“Don’t I need a file to work from?”

Rosa turned to the table she’d been working from and sifted through her papers. She handed him a folder.

“It’s empty,” Niko said.

“Use your imagination.”

Niko stared into his open file and stared at his corner of the map, and gave a short nod.

+++

They were sitting side by side on the work tables, legs swinging, arms folded across their chests, when Gina ducked into the room.

“Captain Holt says the Eight-Two picked up your guy and they’re bringing him in now.”

Rosa stood and started to collect the papers she’d spread across the table. Niko jumped off and asked if he should remove his pins, and Rosa said yes.

“Has Boyle checked in?” Rosa said to Gina.

“I don’t think so, but Jake called and said the scene was a mess and it was taking them a lot longer than they’d expected to get it under control.” Niko felt Gina’s eyes on the back of his neck. “Do you want me to watch Nikolaj while you-”

“I’ve got it,” Rosa said.

“You’re sure?”

“We’re fine.”

Niko turned then and grinned at Gina. “Rosa said I can shoot her gun later!”

Gina’s eyes got very big. Rosa said, “I did not say that. Don’t tell Holt I said that.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to let little kids shoot your gun, Rosa.”

Rosa rolled her eyes. “Obviously not.”

“But, I mean, a promise is a promise.”

“We’re done here,” Rosa said, and shoved past Gina out the door. Niko followed closely behind and beamed at Gina, who gave him a high five.

At her desk, Rosa put a hand on Niko’s shoulder and squeezed.

“You are a little shit,” she said.

“I’m going to tell Daddy you said that.”

“I’m counting on it.” She gave him her special smile when she said it.

+++

Rosa told him that he would sit in the observation room and she would be in the interrogation room. She explained that he would be able to see her through the glass but she wouldn’t be able to see him. She showed him the button to press if he needed to talk to her. She also told him to never press the button unless he had somehow injured himself and was bleeding out all over the floor.

“What’s bleeding out?” Niko said.

“It’s when all of your blood gushes out of your body and you die.”

“Okay, Rosa.”

Niko had some paper and Sergeant Amy’s pens again so he could draw while Rosa talked to the man in the interrogation room. But he decided it would be more fun to watch her. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, so he paid close attention to the way Rosa moved. She closed the door carefully behind her, pressing a palm flat against it before walking into the room. She dropped her file on the table, across from the man whose hands were cuffed in front of him. He had a scruffy beard and wild hair that stuck up all over, and he looked like he might smell bad. He kept scratching his face, and there were places where the skin was rubbed raw and he was bleeding a little. Niko was glad he wasn’t in the room too.

Rosa sat down across from him and leaned back casually in her chair. She might have been talking but it was hard to tell because her back was to the window and the man wasn’t doing or saying anything in response to her, just picking at his chin. Rosa opened the file and took out some glossy photos – Niko thought they were probably the same ones that had been pinned up in the briefing room, the ones she’d told him not to look at – and lined them up on the table in front of the man. The man looked away.

For a while that was it. Sometimes Rosa would point at a photo or slide one closer to the man, and every time he would move his eyes away and stare at some other spot in the room. Finally Rosa stacked up her photos again and put them back in the file. She folded her hands in front of her, and for some reason the man did the same thing.

Then Rosa slammed her hand on the table, hard enough that the window shook a little, and the man jumped almost out of his chair. He started to cry, his face twisting up, and Rosa stood and leaned toward him over the table. She slapped the table again, though not nearly as hard, and jabbed a finger into the closed file. The man’s shoulders were shaking and he ducked his head and tried to bury his face in his cuffed hands.

The door to the observation room opened with a soft click, and Captain Holt walked in. He stood directly behind Niko and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Why don’t we go in the other room.”

“I want to stay,” Niko said.

Rosa sat back down, and she opened her file again and took out another piece of paper. She held it in front of her and Niko imagined she was reading from the page, and then she placed it in front of the man. He’d folded his hands again, and his forehead was resting against his knuckles.

“It’s over,” Captain Holt said to Niko.

“Did Rosa solve the case?”

“Yes, she did.” Captain Holt patted his shoulder, and Niko stood up and gathered his papers and Sergeant Santiago’s pens and he walked back into the bullpen. He was waiting at Rosa’s desk when she came out almost half an hour later, an unreadable look on her face. She seemed tired though, so Niko stood up so she could have her chair back.

After a few minutes, Rosa said, “Do you want to go grab an ice cream and not talk?”

“Yes, Rosa,” Niko said. They walked down the street to a bodega and she bought them both orange creamsicles and they leaned against the newspaper racks outside and watched the traffic go by.

+++

Daddy was at his desk when they got back to the precinct and he gave Niko the biggest hug. Jake gave him a bag of cookies as an apology for taking so long to bring Daddy back.

“They’re actually from the bakery where this couple was stab-” Daddy cleared his throat and Jake rolled his eyes and said, “tickled. And there was tickle juice all over the place and I’m sorry, Charles, I can’t with the tickling.”

Jake went back to his desk, where Sergeant Amy was waiting for him wearing regular clothes, not her uniform, and he kissed her very quickly on the cheek.

“So how was it?” Daddy said, pulling Niko toward him. “Did you and Detective Rosa have a good time?”

“She said I should call her Rosa, and then she solved a case about a man who was decapitating heads and leaving them at subway stations all over Brooklyn!”

The room fell silent. Daddy just sort of stared blankly for a minute, and then he patted Niko on the head and stood and faced Rosa.

“Rosa?”

“Boyle, I swear, I had no idea he knew what case I was working,” Rosa said. “I told him not to look at the photos.”

“There were photos?!” Daddy’s face was turning red and he looked like he might fall over.

“Daddy, it’s okay! The skin was so decomposed you could hardly even tell they were heads.”

Jake snort-laughed. Niko turned to find both him and Sergeant Amy nearly doubled over, their hands pressed to their mouths to stop from laughing out loud. They looked like they were in pain. Gina seemed to be taking pictures of Daddy.

Rosa said, “I am so sorry, man, I thought he had no idea.”

“It’s okay. It’s just, he’s been through so much trauma already-” Daddy sighed and stroked a hand down the back of Niko’s head. “You ready to go home, Nikolaj?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Daddy took his hand and led him toward the elevator, but Niko stopped before he could hit the down button.

“I forgot!” Niko said, and raced back through the bullpen. He plowed into Rosa, nearly knocking her off her chair, and wrapped his arms around her neck and said in her ear, “I love you, Rosa.”

Rosa didn’t say anything, but he felt her arms go around his back and hold on tight. She smelled like hot dogs and orange creamsicles and fresh flowers and the best day ever.

“Please tell Sergeant Amy that I’m sorry I lost her coriander pen,” Niko said. And he ran back to Daddy, just as the elevator doors were opening.

THE END

#b99 #b99fic #b99fandomevents #nikolaj boyle #rosa diaz

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ajfanfic · 4 years

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TITLE: Rotten Work

AUTHOR: AJfanfic

PROMPT DAY #4: Hurt/Comfort

SUMMARY: Geralt’s wounds get badly infected, Jaskier takes care of him.

WORD COUNT: 1,711

BOOKS/NETFLIX/2002 SHOW/VIDEO GAME: Netflix Show

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Graphic description of infected wounds

RATING: Teen

Read it below the cut, or on my AO3

I’ll take care of you.

It’s rotten work.

Not to me, not if it’s you.

Jaskier has moved past the point of panic. Panic was the word for what he’d felt when Geralt had staggered into the farmhouse they were staying at, leaving bloody footprints behind him. Panic described struggling to drag his bulk to their room, pulling leather away from skin and having the skin come with it as fused scabs tore free. To it’s fullest extent, panic could possibly stretch to cover when the fever had set in. Geralt was pale and shaking and threw up any fluids Jaskier managed to convince him to drink. Panic failed when he soaked off the bandages that night and found his wounds inflamed, shiny and swollen, leaking cloudy fluid. Terror suited better.

Jaskier cuts the messy sutures he’d done himself the two days before. The town has no healer, barely large enough to deserve the name town. He struggles to remember the first aid he’s learned. Traveling with a witcher leaves a bard with a greater than usual knowledge of the subject, but he’s never had to deal with this before. Geralt’s never been hurt so bad. Jaskier soaks a towel in boiling water and holds it to the claw marks across the meat of Geralt’s shoulder. He whines at the heat, and what Jaskier is sure is enough pain to knock a human out, but doesn’t try to move away or to take over.

“Fuck.”

As the crusted blood washes away, Jaskier can tell that Geralt’s accelerated healing as already kicked in. His skin has mostly closed, leaving lines of raw pink where there were open wounds. It’s done more harm than good, by healing from the outside first the infection is trapped in the wound. Red streaks creep towards Geralt’s heart from the edge of it. He needs to clean it out, but he’ll have to open the wound to do so. As Jaskier heats his dagger in the fire, he prays that Geralt won’t try to fight him. In this state, he’d hurt himself as surely as he’d hurt Jaskier.

Once he’s confident his blade is clean, Jaskier sits beside Geralt on the bed. He pushes his sweaty hair off his neck.

“Geralt? Can you hear me?”

“Hm.”

“This is going to hurt, okay, but I need to do it if you want to get better.”

“Hm.”

It’s not much, but Jaskier is fairly sure that Geralt’s as coherent as he’s going to get. Touching his skin is nearly uncomfortable. Witchers always run hot, he’s found, but he is growing increasingly concerned Geralt’s temperature is high enough to do serious harm.

“I need you to stay still, okay?”

Geralt fists the sheets weakly, steeling himself. Jaskier presses the tip of the dagger into the longest of the wounds. Blood and pus bead up around the cut as he runs it carefully along the length of it. He tries to not drag it out, but he has to move slowly if he doesn’t want to cut too deep and hurt him further.

Geralt keens, the sound muffled by clenched teeth. Jaskier finishes and wipes the blade clean. He soothes his hand along his flank, before setting to the next cut. This was the worst of them, shorter but deeper.

“Please.” It’s barely a breath but he hears it. “Ves-Vesemir. I can’t.” Geralt’s voice is wet, tears steak his cheeks. “Please stop.”

Jaskier feels like he might cry as well. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you die, I’m sorry.” He wonders who Vesemir is, and hopes that he is dead. Geralt doesn’t speak again until Jaskier has opened each of the wounds. He trades the dagger for the towel again, wringing it out so that warm water flows slowly over the wounds, rinsing away the freshly drawn blood. Each pass of the towel draws fetid pus from the wounds and a ragged sob from Geralt. Jaskier hums quietly as he works, an old lullaby, more to soothe himself than anything else. He isn’t certain Geralt could hear him.

The linens are soaked by the time he is done. Jaskier isn’t satisfied. Geralt is a mess of sweat and fluids, trembling only weakly with fever not because it’s gone down but because he’s too exhausted to manage more. He washes his hands, then pulls the sheet up to his waist.

“Geralt? I’m going to see if I can draw you a bath. I’ll be just downstairs for a moment.” Geralt doesn’t respond, but Jaskier hadn’t expected him to.

He slips out of the room, and the air feels lighter, cleaner outside. He pushes his hands through his hair and heads down the stairs in search of the farmer who’d hired them. Her wife is sitting by the fire, doing some mending. Dinah jumps when she sees him.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“I’m fine.” His voice sounds scratchy at full volume. “Could I draw a bath? I need to bring down my friend’s fever.”

“Of course, I’ll give you a hand.”

Dinah helps him haul the tub up the stairs and into the room. Her eyes drift over Geralt’s curled form, somehow smaller now than should be possible. They carry pitchers of lukewarm water until the tub is full.

“Here.” she hands him a pouch. Jaskier pulls it open. It’s full of salt, expensive in these parts. “It’ll help keep his wounds clean, add it to the bath. And these.” She gives him another bag. “They’re made of poppy extract, to help with the pain.”

“We can’t take these, we couldn’t afford them,” Jaskier protests, but makes no move to give them back to her.

“He saved my wife, I’ll not let him suffer in my house if I can help it.”

Geralt makes a choked sound, and Jaskier is at his side in a heartbeat. He doesn’t notice Dinah leave.

—

They’re going to kill him. They’re going to kill him just like they killed the little boy who he hasn’t heard screaming for too long. Geralt can’t make his body stop shaking. He wants to wipe his face, he doesn’t want to die covered in tears and snot and his own blood. That boy had screamed nonstop for days. Maybe that makes him stronger than Geralt because he’d fallen silent a long time ago. It hurt too much to breathe. He’s going to throw up. He’s going to throw up and drown on his own puke because he can’t manage to roll over.

Someone helps him sit up and lean over the side of his cot. He hasn’t eaten in days, and the bile burns his throat. They wipe his chin with a wet cloth, running it over his cracked lips. Geralt chases the water hungrily and they do it again, cold and fresh.

—

Jaskier wets the corner of the clean towel and drips water slowly onto Geralt’s lips. He wishes they had ice. It would bring his temperature down and help hydrate him, but it’s also pretty much impossible to get outside of court in the summer. When Geralt stops searching for water, Jaskier sets the towel aside.

“I’m going to get you into the bath now. I need you to try and stand up with me.” Jaskier shifts Geralt as carefully as he can until his legs hang over the edge of the bed. He wraps an arm around his back below the wounds and the other on his upper arm. Jaskier stands, pulling most of Geralt’s weight onto himself. Geralt’s breath leaves him in a whining groan. They sway on their feet, trying to find a balance. It’s so much harder than Jaskier had thought it would be to walk the few steps to the tub and get Geralt into it without toppling to the floor.

The cool water seems to soothe him. Jaskier positions him so he’s leaning against his folded arms, the wound covered by the water without him having to lean back against it or sit up under his own power. Jaskier pours several handfuls of salt into the water. He runs a washcloth slowly up and down Geralt’s arms, across his chest and shoulders. His skin is still too warm and flushed enough to be mistaken for the complexion of a normal man, but it seems the water and the cool bath are helping. The last of the crust around the wounds comes free. Jaskier presses lightly against the edges of the wounds until he was satisfied that the purulence was gone. Geralt moaned at his touch and part of Jaskier couldn’t help but feel monstrous for causing his friend further pain. The poppy, he decides, will have to wait until he is more confident it won’t just provoke another round of vomiting. It’s more important that he keeps down the little water he’d managed.

Jaskier changes the bedding quickly, piling the soiled linens in the corner. He’ll wash them later, and probably end up replacing the whole lot. The plate of dried meat and fruit that Dinah had left them when they’d first arrived is still beside the bed. Once it’s made up fresh, and Jaskier is confident that Geralt won’t drown upon being left alone, he eats. The food is more welcome than he’d expected it to be, filling a hole much larger than a single late meal. When had he last eaten? For that matter, when had Geralt?

By the time he was finished, the water had cooled completely and Geralt looked in danger of falling asleep. They struggle out of the tub and back to the bed. Geralt is shaking again, which Jaskier now takes as a good sign. He manages to very slowly finish half a cup of water, sucking on a wet towel while Jaskier rebandages his wounds, leaving them unsutured this time, and Jaskier could cheer.

—

There was someone sitting with him. Geralt was sick and there was someone sitting with him. Gentle fingers in his sweaty hair, gently cold against his burning skin. Soft humming, a lullaby. Everything hurts but he struggles to remember the last time he felt this safe.

“Ma?”

They hush him, hands never still across his brow. “Go to sleep, love. You’re going to feel better when you wake.”

Geralt sleeps.

#2020 geraskier week #hurt/comfort #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #witcher #The Witcher #mine #fanfic

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babybirdgyeom · 5 years

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you, me and bertha (3) | park jinyoung

⇴ neighbor!au, farmer!au, jinyoung x reader.

⇴ summary: moving from the big city to your uncle’s farm in the small village you used to visit as a child was a big and scary step. luckily, you found many reasons to stay. reasons like your cousin bambam, your best friend jaebum or park jinyoung, your neighbor who maybe was more than just a guy you like to nag around with.

⇴ this chapter: it’s your birthday, jinyoung walks you home late at night and you have a quite interesting conversation with jaebum and bambam.

⇴ word count: this part: 5.5k full story: ~30k

⇴ all the other parts can be found in my masterlist, linked in my bio! ♥

Waking up, you immediately had a smile on your face - it’s not like anyone besides Bambam and Minwoo, maybe also Jaebum, would know it’s your birthday today but you still loved your special day. How could you not?

The first thing you did that morning was looking at your phone, happy to see that your friends from home - or more like what used to be home to you - all thought of you and send you very nice birthday greetings full of love. In no time you got up and dressed to go over to the main house.

“So, what do you want to do today?”, Bambam asked you as you, for a change, had breakfast with him and your uncle. They were really cute, they made you some scrambled eggs and cut a lot of vegetables from the Park’s farm, Bambam even managed to go to the heart of the city to buy some buns for all of you.

Stretching yourself while yawning, you thought about Bam’s question. “I actually don’t know, didn’t plan anything yet.”, you said shrugging before eating a piece of pepper, “Any ideas?”

“Why don’t you invite your friends over, (y/n)?”, your uncle suggested but you’d rather not. The problem with inviting people over is you can’t leave early since they are literally at your own place.

“No way, I don’t even think most people know about my birthday. I’ll stay lowkey about it.”, you said, just wanting to have a nice night on the couch after you took a long bath - an ideal night for you, “I’ll get comfortable at home and watch something, do you wanna join and have a movie night?”, you asked your two family members but they didn’t seem to show much support to your idea.

Uncle Minwoo immediately interrupted you, “I’m not letting you stay at home with your old uncle and cousin on your birthday.”

“I’d love that though. We hadn’t had a movie night in a long time.”, you pouted towards your uncle despite knowing you had no chance against him.

“Bambam, take her to the pub, alright?”, he looked at his son who was currently not listening to the ongoing conversation and instead was texting someone.

“Mhh.”, he agreed with his father before looking up from his phone, “I’ll take you to the pub later, (y/n). No discussion.”, he said.

So a few hours later you found yourself in your small, but very lovely looking, bathroom - putting on a real full face make-up for the first time since you arrived. Bam said to make sure that you looked nice since a lot of other people would be there, including the girl he ‘sometimes takes out’, as he likes to call it. Even though you were not really in the mood and would have really preferred a relaxed movie night with your family you thought that looking good and getting ready every now and then wouldn’t hurt - and maybe, just maybe, Jinyoung would be there too.

Bam picked you up from your little house at around eight in the evening, “Hey little one.”, he said lovingly, “You look good! Want to impress Park Jinyoung, right?”

By now you really regretted that you told him about your attraction for the boy next door, he wouldn’t stop mentioning it. You prayed he didn’t tell Jinyoung about it, his ego was big enough and you didn’t know if you could survive if he’d become even cockier. Jinyoung knew how good he looked and that he could probably get just any girl if he wanted so you weren’t going to give him this satisfaction.

“I’ll kill you if you don’t shut your mouth, Bambam.”, you threatened him, not wanting to talk to your cousin about him.

Arriving at the Pub you couldn’t help but smile - all of your friends were waiting inside, a whole booth waiting just for you. Jaebum was the first to welcome you, hugging you tightly, “Happy Birthday, princess.”, he almost whispered into your ear before the other people were waiting for their turn to congratulate you. Jackson and Mark were there, including Mark’s girlfriend, that you hadn’t met before. Yugyeom, of course, was there and even gifted you some sunflowers, “Those are my favorite!”, you told him excited, to which he replied that he knew. Bam introduced you to his almost-girlfriend and she seemed to be a nice girl, almost as tall as him, with cute glasses, short blue hair and a nose ring that she pulled off amazingly. Jaebum was sitting next to a girl and you made a mental note to ask him about her later on. And last but not least Park Jinyoung was standing in front of you, trying to look annoyed like always, but you saw that he was hiding his smile.

“You’re here!”, you said, genuinely excited, “I feel honored.”

He shook his head joyful, “Don’t let it get to your head. Happy birthday, farmer girl.”, for the first time ever Jinyoung hugged you, and you hated to admit that it felt quite comforting - the hug didn’t feel awkward or forced at all, he even had his one hand on your head, right in your hair.

Jaebum and Bambam, who were standing behind Jinyoung, were inspecting the hug exactly, teasing you secretly, drawing hearts with their fingers as you turned almost as red as the Park’s tomatoes.

“(Y/n), we got a present for you! Come on, sit down.”, Jackson screamed from the table and Jinyoung let you go, way too early for your liking, but you weren’t complaining. As you sat down beside Jaebum, Jinyoung sat right next to you, pretty close since you were sitting on a small bank with five people. The booth was decorated with a paper chain that spelled “Happy Birthday”, a few presents were waiting for you on the table, next to many glasses and several bottles of alcohol.

“This one is from me, Jackson and Youngjae.”, Mark said excited, handing you a present - it had the prettiest wrapping paper and looked very cute. As you opened it you couldn’t help but pout, they gifted you a frame of the four of you when you were little, you were maybe around three to four years old. “That’s literally very lovely, guys. Thank you!”

Jackson let out a laugh, “There’s a little wheel on the side that you have to move.”, he said and so you did - as you turned the little wheel more pictures of all of you showed, all of them from different years. “I love it.”, you said smiling, “It’ll get a special place in my hut, I promise.”

“Open our’s next.”, Jaebum said, a smirk on his face. “It’s from me and Bam.”, you didn’t trust them at all.

“I bet it’ll get also a very, very special place in your hut.”, Bam assured you and you just knew at that point they probably got you something very stupid.

And they did - you let out a deep breath, being completely done with them. “Thanks, I really needed that.”, you said sarcastically as you hold the box of the vibrator they gifted you in your hand.

“We know the nights get lonely here.”, Jaebum said, laughing, “Much fun with it. Just call Jinyoung if you need any help with it.”

“Yeah, no, thanks, I think I can handle that on my own.”, you said, rolling your eyes, but still chuckling a bit, “I really need a shot now.”

Jaebum immediately poured a round of shots for everyone, “To our little (y/n).”

All of your friends clinked glasses and downed the shot. Within a few hours, one shot became quite a few. Bambam and his girl were making out heavily in the corner of the pub, Jaebum, you, Youngjae, Mark and Jinyoung were currently playing a card drinking game that you not only never heard of before but was also killing you slowly.

“(Y/n), your turn.”, Jinyoung looked at you, raising his eyebrow, “Red or black?”, that was the whole point of the game. You had to say a color and if the card didn’t have the color you had to take a shot. Youngjae said it was the best game to get really drunk really fast, and boy, he was right. “Red”, you said or to be exact, mumbled, since you couldn’t talk normally anymore.

And, of course, luck wasn’t on your side - as Jinyoung turned around the card it showed black. “Jinyoung-”, you let out a whine as he laughed, “I literally cannot drink that or else I’ll throw up.”

Your head was turning and your stomach felt warm and tingly, you suddenly felt playful and giggly, which was very unusual for you. Looking at Jinyoung you felt something deep down in your tummy - hoping it was the alcohol.

He looked at you with a soft pout on his lip, “You’re no fun.”, he said before taking the shot, “I’ll take it for you since it’s your birthday.”

“Oh, what a gentleman you are.”, you nudged him.

“Just trying to get drunk.”, he said laughing before downing the shot.

You looked at Yugyeom, who was already very drunk, his eyes slowly closing. “Yugyeom!”, you said to him, not sure if you should laugh or be concerned, “Are you passing out?”

“Hmm?”, he said, trying to open his eyes but failing, “Oh no. I’m just taking a nap.”

You looked to Jinyoung beside you, questioning him what to do. “Are you going to babysit him?”

He scoffed, “That isn’t my problem to deal with.”

About two hours later you decided that it was time to go home, you actually enjoyed the evening despite you not wanting to go originally. You thanked everyone and started to grab your stuff.

“What about you?”, you asked Jinyoung who was sitting on his phone, “You’re staying?”

He looked up from his phone, “No, I’m walking you home. Give me a second.”

You decided to wait outside, needing some fresh air. You immediately felt more sober than inside of the pub, the cold air working its wonders.

Slowly, you started to walk towards your home, knowing Jinyoung would catch up in no time. And he did, of course.

“Oh!”, Jinyoung looked at you with wide eyes as he was next to you, before opening his bag, looking for something, “It’s your birthday!”

“No shit, Sherlock.”, you said unimpressed at his sudden realization, walking through the little city at night, still not used to how beautiful the stars were here.

“No, wait. I actually got you something.”, he mumbled and you thought you heard wrong for a second. At least until Jinyoung, who now managed to catch up with you, handed you a box, a rather big one.

“Are you serious?”, you asked, suddenly feeling shy. This morning you still were convinced he didn’t even know it was your birthday but now he was standing in front of you, with a present that was neatly wrapped in yellow wrapping paper.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, please.”, he said rolling his eyes as you two walked through the dark night, only a few lanterns on your way home, “Just open it. It felt wrong not to get you anything. I mean, we’re neighbors now, and also co-workers.”

You smirked up at him, playfully asking, “Maybe even friends?”

His laugh seemed to be even louder and happier when he’s drunk, “Says who? You wish!” before immediately adding, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Maybe even that. Now open it. Let’s sit down.”, your neighbor at the bank on the side of the way, a few steps away.

He took out his phone to turn on the flashlight so you could see, sitting dangerously close to you. “Why didn’t you give it to me earlier?”, you asked him curiously.

“You know, I gotta keep my cool reputation in front of them.”, he joked.

“Ah, can’t let them know that you have a crush on me?”, you blurted out, trying to flirt, knowing you would never say those things if it wasn’t for all the shots you drank earlier.

“You’re a pain in the ass.”, he chuckled, mocking you a bit, “Will you please just open it now? There are a few smaller things.”

As you ripped open the wrapping paper and opened the box your presents were in you immediately smiled, impressed by his first present, “A raincoat? I could’ve seen that coming.”

“I still can’t believe you don’t own one. Look underneath, there’s also a shirt you can use for work so you won’t ruin your good clothes.”, he said, almost proud.

The shirt was grey and oversized - and also, there was a picture printed onto it. Jinyoung let out another laugh before you could see what was on it. As he shined his flashlight on the picture you were not only extremely amused but also very amazed that he did that for you, even though he obviously was trying to be funny, you genuinely liked it - the picture was a selfie of Jinyoung, giving a thumbs up, right next to his favorite being on this earth, Bertha. Underneath the picture the sentence ‘(y/n), you can do it, maybe.’ was written in big letters.

“You’re seriously the worst.”, you laughed, wondering how in the hell he got this idea. Maybe, after all, Jinyoung was actually a quite nice man. Not that you didn’t like him before, you just thought that he didn’t like you back.

“I think you’ll look quite good in it, (y/n).”, he almost giggled.

“You’re such a flirt.”, you said sarcastically.

The last gift in the box really got to you though - it immediately brought back a lot of memories, cherished ones, of your childhood. You felt like you were not able to breathe for a second. How did he even get this?

“Jinyoung, I- I-”, was all you could say, “is it what I think it is?”, you asked amazed, not believing your eyes.

“If you think it’s your old music box that played Somewhere Over The Rainbow over and over again, then it is, yes.”

You totally forgot about it until now, back in the day you always used to play it before going to bed, falling asleep immediately to the soothing sound of it.

“Where did you even get this?”, you asked him, trying to hold back your tears, knowing he’d make fun of you.

“Oh, Minwoo gave it to me to calm the cows on thunder days.”, he said amused.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Do you like it?”, he asked, turning towards you, “I know how obsessed you were with it as a child so I thought you’d like to have it back. The cows didn’t like it anyway.”

You looked at him, not knowing what to say. He was so cool about it when to you, this might be one of the most meaningful presents you’ve ever gotten. The fact that he even remembered how in love you were with this music box and how thoughtful of him it was to give it back to you. Slowly you put the box down, a bit overwhelmed. It was probably stupid, for him it was just a simple present and you were probably overreacting, right? But still, it was so much more than you would’ve expected.

“I love it, Jinyoung.”, you were now looking at him, the wrinkles around his eyes, that came out whenever he was smiling, deeper than you’ve ever seen them before. “Thank you so much.”

Before he could say something to ruin the moment you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his neck. It took him a few moments to realize what was happening, a hug was something he didn’t expect at all, but it did feel nice. His arms carefully found your waist and hugged you back.

You could see how red his cheeks were as your hug ended but for once you decided to not tease him, not wanting to ruin a genuinely nice moment. The two of you didn’t have those very often.

“Shall we go home?”, Jinyoung asked softly as he stood up, waiting for you to join him.

The two of you were walking for a while, way slower than usual. It might be the alcohol in your veins or simply the secret desire to spend some more time together, alone and outside of the farm.

“Be honest.”, you said happily, it almost sounded like you were singing it, “You think I’m cute.”, you said looking up to Jinyoung who was smiling and didn’t seem to care about your teasing anymore.

“I do think you’re cute. That doesn’t make you less any annoying though.”, he said shaking his head amused, as you were walking and your shoulders were lightly touching every now and then, a rush of excitement going through your body every single time. “Now you be honest.. You were totally checking me out when you saw me again.”

You let out a small scoff, “I maybe would have if I hadn’t been to busy trying to free myself from your grip since you thought I was stealing some chicken or something.”, Jinyoung let out a laugh at that memory. Even though it wasn’t long ago it felt like years, considering on how much your relationship developed since then. “Your turn. You would’ve gone home sooner but you were waiting to walk me home.”, the vibe Jinyoung gave you told you it was okay to dig a bit deeper.

“Now you’re just being overconfident, (y/n).”, he laughed and you thought about how his laugh is so different than his mum’s. His mum’s laugh was light and charming while his laugh was deep and full of joy.

“If you say I’m wrong you’re lying.”, you insisted while looking up to the beautiful night sky. You felt slightly cold but you didn’t really care, you could walk and talk for a few more hours without complaining.

“I never said you’re wrong.”, he said, now more soft and serious, “But don’t let it get to your head, I know my mum would kill me if she heard that you had to walk home alone.”

“You’re so in love with me dude, that’s gross.”, you said laughing, not able to stop nagging. By now it seemed like that was Jinyoung’s and your’s thing somehow.

“I really don’t know if I wanna shove you off this bridge or kiss you, (y/n).”, he said shamelessly, trying to sound annoyed but his mood was just as good as yours and the playful flirting was something he missed over the last years. It’s been too long since he met someone he liked so much that he didn’t have to care about what he said. Spending time with you made him feel careless. The night air and the sky that was full of stars just loosened up the mood even more.

Even though your heart was beating faster at his comment you tried to remain cool – he said it so casually as if the topic of kissing you was something completely normal to him, making you realize that maybe Jinyoung and you were indeed becoming something more than friends. “Oh, can I pick?”, you said playfully as you lightly swayed your hip into his.

“No.”, he said easily while pushing you towards the edge of the bridge you were currently walking on, making you gasp a bit, while trying to balance yourself so you wouldn’t fall over the low wooden railing. What was he doing? Just in the right moment, he held you, his arm around your waist, being a bit too close to you which was just once again showing you that the two of you were actually going into the direction you wanted to. As you looked at him your eyes were opened wide, the shock written all over your face.

Jinyoung still was holding you close, giving you the brightest smile ever, his expression full of joy, “Did you really think that I’d let you fall?”

“Yes!”, you said, a hundred percent sure that he’d actually do something like that, “If anyone in this town would then it would be you.”

He acted a bit offended, as he pulled your body a bit closer to his again, your intestines feeling all over the place. Half of your body was still bent over the bridge as Jinyoung’s hold was the only support that stopped you from falling right into the water. His face came near yours and at this moment you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on yours.

“Well, if you think that lowly from me-”, he said before pausing his sentence, you could feel his breath tingling on your lips and see his eyes wandering down to look at your them - but then you started losing balance as Jinyoung let go of your body, making you fall right into the lake behind you. Of course, he’d do something like that.

As you came up again you were drenched. The water was at least still warm enough to not make you shiver while climbing up to the bridge again. Jinyoung was laughing wholeheartedly while holding a hand out for you so he could help you out. You immediately took his offer, taking a tight grip on his hand before getting your revenge – within seconds Jinyoung forcefully joined you in the water, still laughing and shaking his head.

“I should’ve seen that coming.”, he admitted, now also completely wet, shaking his head amused, “I deserved that.”

You now joined his laughter, no one of you seemed to want to get out of the water for now. “Remember the one time we were having a contest here about who can stay underwater the longest when we were children?”, you asked him amused, thinking back to older days, one of the few memories you had with him.

He immediately nodded while walking towards you, leaning against the bridge. His body was close to yours, his face facing yours, the wrinkles around his eyes still there while smiling. “I remember you and Bambam being afraid, thinking I fainted because I let my body swim on the surface with my head under the water still.”

You let out a laugh while playfully hitting his chest, “You were the worst, seriously! Why would you do this to me?”

His arm found your hip, resting lazily on it - you wondered if he’d also do that if he was completely sober. “To make good memories.”, he said, scrunching his nose a bit to look cute.

“Well, that’s also about our only memory because you always avoided me when we were younger.”, you stated, a bit salty.

His laughter sounded different this time, if you didn’t know better you’d almost say there was some kind of admiration in it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”, he said, still laughing before looking at you once again - it’s like you completely forgot about being in the water now in the middle of the night. “Wanna know a secret?”, he asked, maybe even a bit shy.

“Always.”, you said as your eyes widened in excitement since you loved secrets.

“I avoided you because I had the biggest crush on you and Jaebum always said girls suck and if anyone of us kissed a girl they’d be kicked out of the gang.”, he said, laughing at the memory.

“Okay, but Jaebum was literally my first kiss.”, you answered, “I think he knew exactly why he told you that.”

Now it was Jinyoung who was in shock, not you. “You’re kidding me.”, he sounded offended, “I can’t believe he’d play me like this because of some chick.”

“Hello? I’m right here.”, you said, shaking your head amused.

“Oh, I bet you’d rather be where Jaebum is, huh?”, he spotted before breaking character and starting to laugh, “But seriously, he never even told me. He knew I’d fight him about it.”

“It must be hard to always be as dramatic as you are.”, you said laughing, as you got out of the water again, starting to shiver a bit, “Let’s go home, I’m cold.”

He got out of the water too and you tried hard not to stare at his chest that was completely showing through his white shirt. “You should have put on a jacket.”, he said, laughing.

“Oh, you asshole.”, you countered, “I’m only cold because you pushed me into the lake.”

He shrugged as the two of you were walking towards the entrance of the farm.

“I had fun tonight.”, you admitted to him as you were standing in front of your door once again, “You’re not awful.”

He let out a laugh, “Thank you?”, not sure how to understand that he continued, “You’re also not awful, (y/n).”

“I mean, you were not the nicest in the beginning, I thought you hated me. But now, I think you tolerate me.”

“Believe it or not, I think you’re pretty cool.”

You grinned, “I’ll let my diary know about that.”

He just stood there for a second, looking at you. Both of you didn’t want to part, enjoying time with each other but you didn’t want things to get awkward.

“I’m sorry I pushed you into the water.”, he said, laughing while apologizing.

You rolled your eyes at his half-assed apology, “Yeah sure. You better make up for that.”

He nodded, “I will. Good night, (y/n).”, suddenly you felt him hugging you, not expecting it once again. Three hugs in one day were something you didn’t expect at all.

“Sleep well.”, you said to him as you closed the door behind you, removing your make up, changing into comfortable clothes and letting yourself fall into your bed, falling asleep with a smile on your lips. You were definitely making progress.

A few days after It was about time to talk to someone about your confusing feelings. And of course, Jaebum was the first person that came to your mind. As the two of you were sitting outside on your porch, drinking a beer and enjoying the sunset slowly going down, you decided to tell him about what happened after you and Jinyoung left on your birthday.

“He gifted you your old music box?”, he asked confused, almost shocked, “That’s so much better than the vibrator we gifted you, dammit.”

You let out a laugh, “Anything is better than that, Jaebum.”

“Well, apparently you won’t be needing it any time soon if you and Jinyoung continue to fall in love at that pace.”

“Jaebum.”, you let out a pout, “I really don’t know what I should do. He was about to kiss me by the lake but instead, he let me fall into the water.”

Your best friend was trying his hardest to contain his laughter as you told the story but he couldn’t help it, “You really think he’s the one you want? I bet not even Yugyeom would behave that awkward.”

Chuckling, you shrugged, “I guess I just like a challenge.”

Jaebum nodded, “He definitely is one. Bare with him, it’s been some time. His last girlfriend and him broke up quite some time ago.”

Suddenly, you felt curiosity awakening inside of you, “How was she?”

Taking a sip of his beer, he looked at you, a bit pitiful, “Are you sure you wanna do this to yourself?”

“I’m just curious.”, you assured him.

Before Jaebum could start telling you about her you were disturbed by your cousin, who just finished his work, a beer in his hand, sitting down on the free chair on your garden table. “What are you talking about?”

“My hopeless crush.”, you said, laughing.

“What else.”, he said unimpressed, “You could still date Yugyeom, you know.”

You shook your head before turning back to Jaebum, “So, tell me about her, I can’t imagine him with a girl at all.”

“Are we talking about Elly?”, Bambam asked confused, trying to catch up.

“Yes.”, Jaebum said, trying to start once again before getting interrupted by Bambam, also once again. “She wasn’t shit, (y/n). Don’t worry about her. I never liked her. They weren’t even really a couple.”

Jaebum rolled his eyes, “She wasn’t all bad, Bam. She was actually quite nice at the beginning. She’s from the town next to ours, the granddaughter of the owner of the library - we were friends with her back then when she still visited every weekend. She was into Jinyoung from the first second and he was, well, frustrated. So they became friends with benefits. Nothing too serious at first.”

“(Y/n), I really don’t get why you’d wanna know. You’ll just hurt yourself.”, your cousin said, clearly disagreeing with your curiosity.

“They broke up so I won’t be hurt, I just can’t imagine him in a relationship at all. I need some information.”, you argued.

“He was a good boyfriend, I guess.”, Bambam said, taking a big gulp of his beer, “Like he visited her often and made sure to bring her to every event or birthday. But one of them would always start a fight and it got so annoying over time. Every time he brought her I was afraid to say anything to him because if I only said one wrong word she’d start to discuss with him.”

Jaebum now interrupted him, “Well, it wasn’t only her to start a fight, to be fair. Jinyoung often enough started one too, whenever he was in a bad mood he’d always find a reason to fight.”

A scoff came out of your mouth, “I already thought he’d be one to pick fights, to be honest.”

“Speaking of the devil.”, Jaebum nodded towards the house of the Park’s and as you turned around you saw Jinyoung jogging over to you. He looked happy, a smile on his lips, something rather unusual.

“Why are you having a nice evening and no one cared to call me?”, he asked as he arrived in front of you, holding up a big plate with many different pieces of cakes on it, “I brought cake.”

Bambam immediately took the plate and set it in front of him as Jinyoung sat down on the free seat on the bench beside you.

“We were just talking shit about you.”, Bambam said, getting up to get some forks from inside.

“Why? What did I do?”, he asked, already sounding offended, ready to defend himself without knowing what even seemed to be the problem.

“I just told them about how you let me fall into the lake.”, you said, salty, playing a bit hard to get like so often.

“Why would you do that?”, he asked in a whiny tone, “Aren’t they teasing us enough already?”

You scoffed, “I don’t care about that. I still can’t believe you’ve done that. I could’ve caught a cold.”

He now started to act offended, “You didn’t though, right? I brought you cake as an apology, just to find you hanging out with our friends, without me?”

Jaebum let out a laugh at your constant bickering, “Young love must be so nice.”

“Shut up.”, you looked over to Jaebum, giving him a warning glance before you turned back to the real enemy here, “You think cake can just fix the trust I lost in you?”

He let out a laugh, “You’re being overdramatic.”

You knew you were and you weren’t even serious about the whole discussion, you couldn’t care less that he let you fall into the lake. It was just fun to annoy the living shit out of him, “You’re being an asshole.”

He scoffed before continuing your discussion in a mocking voice, “Wanted me to kiss you so bad that you can’t get over the fact that I didn’t?”

You let out a small gasp, not expecting his comeback. Jaebum and Bambam were both giggling like little boys, watching the two of you fight.

“If you think that, you’re truly delusional.”, you said, scoffing, even though everyone here knew he was right, “The only reason I didn’t kill you right then was that I was so relieved you didn’t kiss me.”

He snorted, not ready to give up yet, “Sure, just keep on telling it to yourself until you start to believe it.”

And this is how you spent the rest of the evening. Three of your closest friends, cake, one or two or maybe even more beers, a beautiful pink sunset and most important - in the place you loved to call your home.

#got7 #park jinyoung #jinyoung #got7 imagine #jinyoung imagine #got7 au #jinyoung au #jinyoung scenario #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung fanfiction #jinyoung series #got7 series #got7 fanfic #got7 scenarios #kpop #kpop fanfiction #got7 jinyoung

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steve0discusses · 5 years

Text

Yugioh Ep 24 S3: Blimp’s Ultimate Form

So, I realized as I sat down to the blog today that I’ve been doing this for like...a year and half now? I think? So I figured...how many of these have I MADE? Cuz I thought...I MUST be getting close to the 100th recap pretty soon, and guys, the answer was shocking.

This is, in fact, the 121st recap (including Season 0). That is a LOT of content. I don’t think I have that many pages for my own webcomic (which basically only tells you how long and physically exhausting the drawing process is more than anything else). Along the way I realized I was a.) really bad at numbering episodes, and b.) reaaaaally bad at spelling Kaiba at the start of this series, really cringey how I used to spell everyone’s name, I can’t really look back there.

Anyway, in case you are curious, the 100th episode was the “Pharaoh turns Karibo into a rainbow for some reason” episode. So, unfortunately it wasn’t that extraordinary. I forgot to write down which episode was 69, which is a colossal failure on my part.

So that being said, this is the last episode of this arc! Honestly, this arc could’ve been a lot shorter because at this point the only resolution left is for Noah to be a decent person once in his life and for Kaiba Sr. to die (which he’s already done, so...mission already accomplished)

Noah recently came on the PA system to inform us that he accidentally decided to kill everyone (congrats, recently reformed Noah), and so he’s going to do the decent thing and let them know where the exit is without actually doing a damn thing to make a portal to get them to said exit.

Guess where the exit is?

I don’t know why the hell this show keeps going back to the local Dave and Busters where Tea got attacked on a dance machine.

At this moment, Gozaburo decided to turn into some sort of giant red ghost devil.

Yes. Exactly what it sounds like.

Apparently this was a thing he could just do this entire arc.

(read more after the cut)

The fact that Seto’s Dad can just morph into a giant red demon is like...not even a problem for anyone on this cast. He literally goes back to his side of the field and goes right back to playing cards. Cuz youknow. Cards.

It’s basically a "Anyone with a millennium item can shoot lasers but never actually does” but demon format. Gozaburo *could* turn into the hulk but like...why?

Meanwhile the rest of the cast are playing cards against the card monsters, that are really just 3D models that Gozaburo had on file. He could have used...literally anything to throw at these people and he went with cards. He could have just dropped a boat on them but...I dunno, maybe he didn’t know where the boat folder was.

Yugi trying really hard to not acknowledge the annoying as hell Joey face and give it any more attention than it already has.

Tea and Serenity scramble to the exit largely unscathed, dragging Tristan with them because he is too small to hold a card hologram and is too monkey to be at all useful back on the front lines.

And they just wake up. Just like that. Just like they woke up from a simple nap or something.

And voila, Tristan is no longer a monkey, his brain is back to normal, the writers were like “we really have to focus on Noah right now, please forgive us if we just pretend line all that brain damage Tristan went through, his brain being 5 DIFFERENT PEOPLE at the same time, having his brainwaves turned into an actual monkey, and then back again within the space of a few hours- just pretend he’s fine now.

It’s fine. Tristan’s fine.

Tristan wasn’t really...all that bright to begin with so...he’s fine.

And so, as our B team is getting back into the real world, Noah sees this little post-it note on the side of his computer that says “PS, Yugi is a main character and must be present for the finale although he will serve little purpose there” and so Noah pressed that intercom mic button to say:

And it’s at this point that Noah says “I’ll just make you a portal and warp you right there” and then I guess everyone standing around Noah kind of looked at eachother and was like “NOW you do that? NOW? AFTER the chase through the monster copy-paste factory?”

The show is desperately trying to convince me that Noah is now fully a good brother but ehhhhh he’s not. Like, I’ll be honest, they give him the best send off they could have possibly given to such an irredeemably evil character. Like, Seto himself is such a bag of pistachios that you really have to stretch Noah pretty far into evil territory to make Seto look like the good guy in comparison, and it sort of made me not really buy this whole Noah redemption arc.

It’s more like a prequel to a redemption arc that apparently won’t even happen in this series of Yugioh. He comes back at some point, and I only know that because I had to do a google image search of this kid for some reason and it was like ah, yeah, this is definitely a screen cap of a later, glossier looking Yugioh. But, for now, I’d say that Noah’s arc isn’t so much about him coming closer to his family or turning towards the ‘light’, as Pharaoh put it last episode. It’s more about Noah finally letting go of his Father, which should have been the arc of Seto Kaiba.

Instead, Seto did absolutely nothing to let go of his Dad, to the point that Seto is now fighting a computer that just kind of looks like his Dad during a missile strike aimed at Seto’s own face, and Seto did not stop till he won, because of his own damn pride.

Like I think I mentioned this in the last recap, but if they wanted to have Seto show any changes in this arc (which he hasn’t done) then he should have walked away. Instead, he’s very clearly still using his past trauma to fuel the obsessive reasons why he’s playing cards in the present.

Oh, and PS, Yugi’s here, I don’t know why he is, but it does make for some good scenery shots for the commercials so you know, why not.

Gozaburo decides it’s about time to turn into a 50 ft rage monster, and he pushes them to a ledge. Ah, dangerous ledge trope, it’s been a while.

And, finally, as was hinted basically since S1, Yugi gets Seto to jump directly off a ledge of a very tall structure. It finally happened.

Don’t think about it.

And into a portal? That gets them to the exit? Like y’all...this is a kid’s show and all so I shouldn’t question any very convenient plot devices but like...what?

Anyways, they’re fine now, don’t worry about it.

And so, now for a brother pow-wow between Mokuba, who is either still very, very much in Stockholm Syndrome Territory or maybe just doesn’t know that Noah dropped a rocket on his face while Moki was AFK.

And so Noah walks off into the fog cloud because he is the only person on this entire show who would rather die than share a brain (and you know Moki would’ve been down. Moki/Noah as the next Yugi/Pharaoh could’ve been a great thing but youknow, also very much way too complicated for this already complicated show).

It was very melodramatic.

And TBH, I will miss Noah a little bit, he had a fun, insane sort of snobby sass, but I can understand why they might not want to keep even more villains around on this show that is already like...dozens of villains, just so many villains.

Anyway, remember that they woke up in a lab and not in a blimp, so they still have to like...get off this damn boat.

Lol nearly forgot this was an anime. Glad Noah got a magic girl moment before he kicked it.

Also, I’m pretty sure it was shirtless Noah in this glowing yellow farmer’s tan that got this episode flagged for Adult Content when it was still in my drafts folder. Tumblr’s bot got super excited to shut this one way down lol.

And then what follows is like one of the best animated loops in Yugioh. One so good that you bet your ass I clipped it to view for my own leisure.

Mokuba, sensing he’s slowing down for no reason makes the mistake of telling his brother “I’m not going to make it” and so, as an unsuspecting Duke Devlin reaches out and says “grab my hand,” Kaiba does...THIS

when the entire time Kaiba was strong enough and had enough jumps to do THIS

Like he could have easily picked up Mokuba but youknow, any chance to throw a kid at Duke Devlin’s face shoe-first, I guess.

Maybe this is why Moki wears a puffy vest?

And so it was here, as the flames encroach on my wonderful blimp baby that I was getting ready to say goodbye, but guess what, she ain’t dead because...of a completely insane reason we’ll get to in a bit.

Oh, and PS Kaiba’s Dad is a flame monster now. Because of...technology?

It’s probably supposed to be metaphorical flames but youknow, apparently Kaiba had the foresight that someone at some point would become a flame demon and try to devour his entire blimp, and so he made a feature you can add onto what ever blimp you decide to buy from him just so you can outrun fire people attacks.

And it turns out Blimp was the real Magical Girl all along.

Blimp lore is getting pretty wild y’all.

Imagine playing cards on it now...

And then everyone collectively decided that Noah WASN’T DEAD. It was very unhealthy! Thanks 4Kids!

The irony about this exchange is that it is Bakura who is the one who’s uploaded to a flash drive, not Noah--Bakura is on a flash drive around Yugi’s neck but they have never discussed this. Like I’m pretty sure no one even has still picked up that Bakura died and that’s going to be the thing I look forward to the most next episode. If they even address it. Which they might not.

And so, Kaiba looks at the wreckage and the rocket parts that he now has to explain to the UN (and probably not for the first time) and he says:

And thus ends the Kaiba’s Kojima-esque War Crimes arc.

Oh man, next time we get to go back to Marik.

Man oh man.

I don’t even REMEMBER what was going on in that arc guys. It’s been like...man.

I might have to read my own blog to refresh myself haha, I honestly have forgotten a lot of details.

Anyway, in memory of when the blimp still looked like a blimp, I guess this is the last time I can ever post this song:

youtube

And here’s a link to read these recaps from the beginning in chrono-order

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