#gotta read all about plants with bulbs next

[moominsnufkin]

this year is honestly already a win because there were like 10 times more bugs hanging out in the patio dirt!!! saw a non invasive caterpillar, saw like 10-15 worms. even a small centipede. missed finding woodbugs (they like eating dead plant matter) 

#shifting to garden mode #gotta read all about plants with bulbs next #like onions or flowers

[endless-summer-soldier]

ice ice baby - chapter nine

pairing: CollegeHockeyPlayer!Bucky x CollegeFigureSkater!Reader

summary: Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

warnings: enemies to lovers trope, some alcohol use

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @whiskeyrosepoetry

series playlist

series masterlist

Y/N was pacing around her apartment. The press conference was scheduled to start in five minutes and she couldn’t sit still. A heavy knock on the door startled her and pulled her from her frenzy. She opened the door and found Bucky on her doorstep with two cups of coffee in his hands.

“I thought you could use some company,” he smiled. She gave him a small smile and let him inside. He handed her the coffee and they sat on the couch, waiting for the broadcast to begin. Her knee was bouncing up and down as she took a long sip of her java.

Bucky placed his hand on her knee to settle her down, “Maybe the caffeine was a bad idea.”

She shook her head, “No it was sweet, I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous about this. We have no control over the situation, so there’s no point in stressing.”

“I know, you’re right. I just don’t like all this anticipation.”

“Just take a deep breath and relax,” he said, rubbing her leg. The snapping of cameras drew their attention to the TV as the USFS president approached a microphone.

“Hello, we are here today to address some concerns over the scoring of the US National Figure Skating competition that took place recently in Chicago. After a thorough investigation it has been discovered that three of the judges at the competition accepted bribes from a competitor. The judges have been removed from the organization effective immediately. The competitor responsible for the bribes has been banned from all future competitions. As a result of this investigation, we have reviewed all scores from the competition. There are score changes for multiple skaters and the updated scores will be posted on the US Figure Skating website within the next hour. We apologize that this situation transpired. We will be reviewing our internal processes to ensure a situation like this does not occur again in the future. Thank you, no questions at this time.”

Cameras continued going off and they could hear reporters asking questions and trying to get more information. The statement was vague, as she knew it would be, and there were still some unanswered questions. But the figure skating community was small, and the real story would get out at some point.

“So what now?” Bucky asked. 

“We open up the website and we refresh until the new scores are posted.” And that was exactly what they did. They sat there and hit refresh until there was finally a change to the webpage.

Y/N let out an audible gasp and Bucky immediately focused his attention to her phone screen. And there were their names, at the top of the board. In the gold medal spot. Before Y/N could say anything, Bucky had picked her up and was spinning her in the air. She wrapped her arms tight around his neck and couldn’t stop smiling. He planted quick kisses all over her neck and cheek as she giggled.

“You’re going to the Olympics,” he whispered into her hair. 

“We’re going to the Olympics!” she corrected.

“Well I gotta make the hockey team first.” With that simple comment, she fell through the cloud nine she was briefly camped on. She knew it wasn’t rational for her to think he would accompany her to Seoul, but she was secretly hoping he wanted to go with her. 

“Oh, duh.” She attempted to hide her confusion, but it was evident in her voice. He gently put her down and looked at her, trying to read her expression.

“Don’t worry, Ace. I fully plan to be on that roster.”

She gave him a fake smile and desperately wanted to change the subject when a text came through from Natasha.

FUCKING SHARON! 

It took her a moment to figure out the context. And once the light bulb went off, she couldn’t hide the shock on her face.

“What is it?” Bucky asked. Y/N flipped back to the scores and realized Sharon and her partner weren’t listed.

“It was Sharon! She paid off the judges.”

“No fucking way. How do you know?”

“She’s not on the list at all. And they blackballed the skater responsible so it has to be her. Or her partner.”

“Damn, I mean I’m not exactly surprised. She’d do anything to get ahead.”

“Yeah she even sunk so low to flirt with you,” she joked.

“Woooooooow,” he replied, smiling and shaking his head.

“Like who in their right mind would flirt with you?” she layered on, teasing him.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that one,” he said, giving her the mischievous smile she’d grown to love. He lunged towards her and she ran off into the kitchen, attempting to escape his advances. Her efforts were futile, as he easily caught her and trapped her in a bear hug. As he squeezed her, he planted a kiss on the top of her head. She looked up at him and he leaned in to give her another kiss, this time on her soft lips.

He eased his grip on her and placed his strong hands on her shoulders. He looked her in the eyes and seriously asked, “Are you excited for the Olympics?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I am.”

“It’s funny because you don’t seem excited.”

“I’m excited!”

“...What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

She let out a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t escape his steely eyes. “This is going to sound stupid, I just…I had this vision in my head of skating at the Olympics with you. And I didn’t really think much more about it until today when I realized it won’t be you because, of course, hockey is your first love. This was always just a temporary arrangement.”

He looked at her with the sweetest eyes, “If it makes you feel better, you were never temporary to me. Just imagine how great you’ll be when you have someone who knows what they’re doing out there. And this is only going to motivate me even more to make the US team because there is no way I’m going to miss seeing you kick ass at the Olympics.”

She smiled up at him, “You always know the right thing to say.”

“What is this, you’re being nice to me now? What happened to the cute yet cheeky woman I fell in love with?”

That was not what she expected to hear. Her eyes went wide and her jaw nearly hit the floor. 

All the color drained from Bucky’s face as he realized what he had just said.

“Shit,” he murmured under his breath. He let go of her and put his head in his hands as he took a step back from her. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, it's fine.”

Bucky was the one pacing now, his mind moving a mile a minute. “I’m gonna go,” he finally said.

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll text you,” she added. He nodded at her, gave her an uneasy smile and then walked out of her apartment.

“What just happened,” she whispered to herself once he was out the door.

The rational side of her took over and told her it was far too soon for love. They’d only known each other a few months. They didn’t even like each other until recently. They’d been on one date. They’d kissed a handful of times and everything was still so…new. 

Yet despite all those thoughts, things with Bucky just felt…right. She had very little experience with romantic relationships, but he was the one person she always wanted around. She felt butterflies in her stomach whenever he would brush his hand against hers. And that smile. It was infectious. Even thinking about it now, the corners of her mouth twisted upwards.

She was kicking herself for letting him walk out the door. She needed a minute to process what he had said but now her head was as clear as ever. 

She picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts, looking for one name in particular. The phone rang briefly and the voice on the other line greeted her.

“Hey, I could use your help with something…” she started.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes hockey player #hockey player au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes enemies to lovers

[tintinntabuli]

Another daffodil foliage rule-breaker – me!

My GardenRant partner Scott wrote about his hundreds of daffodils now “writhing about in their death throes, getting all Shakespearean and shit,” and I bet we can all relate. Though unlike his hilarious imagingings, if we dare to remove the spent foliage before we’re supposed to we may not actually hear from a representative of the Daffodil Society “beating her breasts” and crying “No, no, no!” but we do hear the breast-beating in our heads because we’ve heard and read so many times that they must be allowed to wither in place or – gasp! – they won’t bloom as well the next year.

In Scott’s case, after landing in the “county lockup” over his daffodil transgression, his daff-affirming spirit prevails as he writes a note to self: “Order more daffs.” Hear, hear!

As a fellow transgressor, I must weigh in with a deep dive into the reproach in hopes of defending my own daffodil practices, with the help of a true deep-diver, the podcaster Leslie Harris (no relation). In her latest episode she admits that her mass plantings of daffodils are “not bringing joy to my heart,” yet:

You gotta leave the foliage until it starts to wither. Don’t fold it up, don’t braid it, otherwise you might as well just cut it off because the energy from the sun needs to get to the roots…Anyway tying up those stems will keep the vascular tubes, which are called phloem, from doing their job, which is to get energy from the sun down to the roots of the bulbs, of the plants. I have heard evidence that once the foliage is actually down on the ground, not sticking up but maybe still green, you are good to go on getting rid of it.”

Me, I like to protect my groundcovers and emerging perennials from being flopped onto by the daffodil foliage – and admittedly, because I agree with Leslie that the dying foliage makes parts of the garden look like “a dog’s breakfast” – so I give myself permission to sacrifice just a few blooms for this good cause. So I was happy to find support for my rule-breaking in her thorough exploration of the topic:

The conduit, phloem, would be bent in such a way that the food from the sun probably wouldn’t flow very well to the roots through that vascular system…Finger combing it all in one direction so that it not at least completely crazy could help you, but don’t go too hard on it because of what I talked about, about breaking down that system. Once it’s down and once it’s brown, there’s certainly no reason to have it around, and I tend to get rid of it even before it’s brown. I know that’s cheating, but I do.

Wait! So as long as I don’t “go too hard on it” and stop the flow, I’m not reducing next year’s bloom count? Take a look at the top photo here of my careful, respectful tying-up of daff leaves so that they stand tall – with uninterrupted phloem!!! It’ll stay in that position until it finally flops down and is yankable, having gotten presumably plenty of sun energy down into the bulb.

Or how about this other treatment I’ll admit to you guys, though not to the Daff Society breast-beater – simply laying the foliage on the ground. Sure, not as many leaves are getting full sun but look, the bending is gentle enough for the phloem to be flowable, right? Honestly, the rules have always seemed a bit anal to me, as my daffodils bloom plenty the next year and if the bloom count is a bit lower because of my gardening practices, I can live with it.

I take heart in knowing that even Leslie, a former professional gardener whose garden I’ve seen and lusted over, transgresses a bit in her impatience with the dog-breakfast look. I say “Permission given!”

Another daffodil foliage rule-breaker – me! originally appeared on GardenRant on May 26, 2023.

The post Another daffodil foliage rule-breaker – me! appeared first on GardenRant.

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#landscaping landscaper

[beyondspaceandstars]

hii dear! I’m sorry for requesting again but everything you write is just *chefs kiss*

so my idea is a bucky barnes fluff one shot where reader takes him to a record shop and then for ice cream afterwards with the prompts

‘Please don’t leave me alone.’ and ‘It’s just an ice cream cone.’

thank you for considering dear !! thanks again xx

Saturday Afternoon

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: N/A, just super fluffy <3

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I'm so glad you enjoy my writing, thank you so much - i hope I did this one just as well!

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“A record shop?” Bucky asked as you two walked hand-in-hand down the street. “Those things really still exist?”

You giggled, "You had record stores back in your day?"

Bucky shrugged. "There were a few in the area. I haven’t been to one since then but I read they’ve gotten quite popular over the years."

"They’ve had their ups and downs," you said. "But I’ve always adored them."

You two continued your way down the street, hands connected and arms swinging. You hadn’t initially told Bucky that morning where you were dragging him, opting to wait until you were already on your way. All you had explained was that you wanted to go shopping and thought he might enjoy it as well. A bit suspicious but he eventually agreed. When you eventually revealed it, your assumption on his excitement was correct.

It was no secret to you that Bucky enjoyed music — well, music from his time. He’d tolerate the alternate and rock vinyls you liked to play but when it came down to it, the man could sometimes be stuck in his era. You had learned, though, that he was having a hard time finding the music he remembered.

You tried showing him streaming services like Spotify but he claimed it didn’t "sound the same" — you just about rolled your eyes at his old-fashioned talk and instead turned your attention to tracking down records from that time. After a bit of hunting via the internet, you were surprised to find the record store you frequented carried albums from back in Bucky’s time.

So, that’s where you were dragging him now on a lovely Saturday afternoon. You thought you could make a whole day of it: browse some records then stop in at the ice cream shop next door. They hand-churned it all and everything, it was delightful, and you were quite surprised you had never thought to take Bucky to this area. From the looks of how he took in the rows of shops with a fascinated gaze, you could tell he was already enjoying the trip.

"You already look pleased and we haven’t even made it to our destination," you commented. Bucky shot you a smirk.

"I’m always pleased when I’m with you, doll."

You just about snorted at his cheesiness. You had quickly realized anything you said could be turned into a line by Bucky and, well, it did sometimes did something for you.

You two rounded the corner and came upon the record store. You opened the door and pulled Bucky in with you, having a hard time hiding your own excitement. Bucky just happily followed, looking around at the miles and miles of records. You knew it could be a bit overwhelming at first so you tried giving a laydown of the outline of the shop.

"Okay," you said as you stopped at one aisle. "It’s separated by genres but there’s also a section for decades. That’s where you’d find like the eighties, the fifties, et cetera. I guess that’s probably where you want to start." You turned to him. "Do you know what you’re looking for?"

You watched as Bucky nodded and pulled out a little piece of paper from his pocket. "At least what I can remember," he chuckled at the sour joke as he motioned towards the paper. You just gave him a small smile and led him down the rows.

"Seventies, sixties, fifties… Here!" You exclaimed as you came to a stop in front of rows of albums labeled with ‘30s’ and ‘40s.’ "Hopefully you can find them."

Bucky smiled down at you. "Thanks, honey," he mumbled as he placed a kiss on your cheek. You blushed, disconnecting your hands.

"I-I’ll be just a few aisles over," you said, motioning towards the second labeled ‘alternative.’ "If you need help or anything I’m sure we can talk to someone—"

"Go do your own shopping," Bucky chuckled, practically shooing you away. "I’ll be just fine."

You raised your hands in surrender and headed to your own section of the record shop, watching the excited, focus gaze that came across Bucky’s face as he flipped through the records. Your heart warmed at the sight.

***

Just under an hour or later, Bucky finally came and found you, cradling a whole stack of vinyls in his arms.

You giggled, taking in the sight of your boyfriend wrangling with the items. "Someone hit the jackpot, huh?" You teased as you looked over the different covers and names. To be quite frank… You didn’t recognize any of the music. But that also just means that Bucky would get to show you his music like you had been showing him yours.

Bucky shrugged as if this was nothing. "They had a great selection, I had to narrow it down."

"This was narrowing it down?"

Bucky playfully rolled his eyes, a little smirk playing on his lips. "Yes, believe it or not, this was."

You shook your head and reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I’m just kidding, Buck," you said. "I’m glad you found what you wanted."

"I did," he nodded, "thank you so much. You don’t know what this means to me."

You had to look away as Bucky’s loving gaze became borderline intense and your blushing could not be controlled. You took his arm and began leading him to the cash register. "Let’s get these paid for and then we go for ice cream."

"Ice cream?" Bucky perked up. You nodded.

"What date would be complete without ice cream?"

"Oh," Bucky hummed. "This was a date."

You lightly pushed his shoulder as he placed his albums on the counter for the cashier to begin scanning. "You say that like we’re not already a couple," you laughed.

"Couples still need to go on dates," Bucky shrugged. "I feel like I should’ve been informed." He paid for the albums then took the bag from the cashier. In his other hand, he grabbed yours as you two begin exiting the shop.

"It’s nothing special," you insisted, steering him towards the ice cream shop.

Bucky scoffed. "Any date with you is special, sweetheart."

Gosh, he was such a sweet talker. You had to ignore it now or else you’d walk into the ice cream with a face looking like a tomato. It was becoming your permanent state around Bucky. Despite you two being together for a good amount of time, he was the king of making you squirm.

You two quickly found a table in the shop. Bucky sat down and placed his new collection of music on the floor beside the chair. He looked up at you, noticing you weren’t sitting down.

"What would you like?" You asked, motioning towards the menu. "I’ll get it for you. My treat."

Bucky frowned, dramatic and silly. "Please don’t leave me alone."

You couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculousness. Bucky loved pulling these teasing stunts on you, acting like you were leaving home forever when you’d just be going to the bathroom or getting a snack.

You shook your head, "You’ll be fine, I’m only leaving you for ice cream. It’s just an ice cream cone."

He sighed. "Fine, if you must." His eyes roamed the menu for a moment before they lit up like a light bulb had gone off. "Well… Instead of just an ice cream cone, we could share a banana split?"

"Oh, how romantic," you smiled. "You trying to use one of your old moves on me, Barnes?"

"You started this, doll, you said it was a date," he said with a cocky smile. "I gotta pull out all the stops."

"You’re absolutely ridiculous," you mumbled as you placed a quick kiss on his lips. He hummed, happily, almost even sneaking a hand around your waist to keep you against him but you quickly shooed him off.

You yelped. "Do you want your ice cream or not, mister?"

"I don’t know, honey. You seem so much sweeter." Your jaw went slack.

"I’m walking away now," you declared and stuck to your word, marching away defiantly but with a silly little smile playing on your lips. You could feel Bucky’s eyes roaming all over you as you went to get the banana split.

That man was going to be the death of you.

#1k celebration #request #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #marvel #avengers #mcu fic #mcu #one shot #fluff #writing*

[vechkinfan]

Jack

A/n: I found this little one shot while I was looking through the deep dark depths of my google docs the other day and figured I might as well share it. Its a young Joker fic, and my fist time writing for the joker so please take it easy on me!😁

Pairing: Joker x OFC

Summary: A brief glimpse into the Jokers past, memories that he would rather keep buried, memories that reminded him of someone that held his heart. A heart that now burned for Gotham's reckoning.

Warnings: Talks of abuse, swearing, angst, vague talk of death

Jack found himself climbing the dirty, half rotten stairs of his apartment building. The light bulbs on every other floor, blown out or stolen, casting a darkness over him as he made his way up. 

His mother had one of her 'friends' as she liked to call them, over. So he made himself scarce for the afternoon, like he always managed to. Jack weaseled his way out of the apartment when those creeps were over. Especially the ones who would come right in and give him those looks. Those perverted sideways eyes when his mother was too plastered to notice any different. Looks that sent a piercing shiver across his whole body, and an uneasiness to settle in his gut.  He much preferred the men who would come over and pretended like he didn't exist. 

The sun had long since started to sink in the sky  as he climbed the stairs towards home and Jack knew he had to make it before the streetlights in the narrows started to flicker. The evil in his apartment was one thing, but the evils that lurched about once all the sunlight was extinguished in the sky was much more frightening. 

Rounding the last flight of stairs, his eyes landed on a girl  sitting at the top of them. Her back pressed against the door jam of the closest apartment door.  One foot stretched out in front of her blocking his path and the other bent, shaking vigorously on the next step down. 

She was sucking on a red popsicle, as her fingers drummed against the skin of her knee that poked free from a hole in her ratty jeans. 

Jack knew she just moved in a few months back, but he never crossed paths with her before now. However every time he opened the door to let in one of his mothers 'friends', she would be sitting at the top of those stairs. Usually a pack of playing cards in her hands, flicking them one by one, aimlessly down to the next landing. 

"What flavor is that?" Jack asked, curious at what her voice would sound like. He'd been intrigued by her presence the moment he saw her all those weeks ago. 

Pulling the half melted popsicle from her mouth, the girl turned her head slightly to gaze towards him. Her dark brown hair in a curly mess that covered half of her face, but not enough for Jack to miss the darkness of her left eye. It almost appeared black, the deep brown of her iris engulfing her pupil, giving her a truly ominous appearance. 

"Cherry." She answered, her voice nothing what he expected. It held a delicate raspiness, nowhere near the point where it matched Ms. Emerson two floors up who had been smoking 3 packs a day since the depression. There was a softness to it though, one that made Jack want to hear more from her.  "You live in the apartment cross from me don't you?" 

Nodding his head, Jack shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "Sure do." 

She sat in silence after that, and he stood a few stairs below quietly staring at her. His feet shuffling against the creaky old floor board, wondering if this would be the end of their talk. Perhaps it'd be the last time they spoke at all. Jack knew the Narrows had people shuffling around from place to place, like one of them scam shell games. She very well could be gone by morning. 

 "I can bring you one next time…. If you want?" Swinging her leg around, she sat so she was facing him. Both feet planted one step down as she licked the red sugary liquid that was starting to drip down the wooden popsicle stick and onto the top of her hand. 

"I got two left in the freezer." Her voice was soft and held a nervousness that made fighting off a sly grin for Jack very difficult.  

"Yeah, I'd like that." Hustling up the stairs, Jack found himself sitting down beside her. 

His eyes getting a better glance at the girl, in the low light of the stairwell. Now he could tell she was using her hair to hide the right side of her face. Her right eye was an awful shade of purple, and the lid swollen so badly Jack knew she must be having a hard time seeing. 

As he let his eyes pan across her face, he noticed her lip that was stained with cherry popsicle was also busted open. The girl next to him seemed to have come from a similar home as himself. It was near luck that Jack hadn't gotten his ass handed to him by one of his mother friends in a while. Talking back was a habit that he couldn't quit no matter how much he was beaten for it. Not to mention the fit of laughter that usually escaped his thin lips as a belt or a fist swung in his direction didn't help either. 

"You got a name?" He asked, finally dragging his eyes back to meet her dark gaze. 

"Billy." 

Furrowing his brow and giving his head a subtle tilt, he wondered if she was fucking with him.

"That's a boy's name." He puffed out a small laugh. However the girl beside him didn't react at all. 

"I know, you don't gotta remind me." She shrugged her shoulders, before finishing off the popsicle and throwing the wood stick down the stairs. 

"It's  your nickname right?" Jack couldn't quite stop himself with the questions. Usually he kept to himself and avoided people, but she…  there was just something  different about her. Something that drew Jack in like a moth to a flame. 

He knew his interest was purely the result of her moving directly across the hall and appearing to be close to his age, if she had moved three flights up and was a little frilly girl, Jack was sure he wouldn't have even batted an eyelash in her direction as he carried on home. 

Shaking her head and rolling her eye, she was the one to laugh now. "No, my momma lost her first baby, who was a boy when he was real little. She ain't been right in the head since." Jack watched as she picked at the frayed edge of the side pocket of her faded army green vest while she spoke. "So when she found out she was having me, she just knew I was a boy. The doctors told her different, but she didn't really care what they thought. So she named me Billy." 

Shoving her hands into her vest pockets now, she quickly pulled out her deck of cards and began to shuffle them absentmindedly. 

"Billy's not a bad name, I mean there was Billy the kid that robbed banks in the old west right? Like some badass cowboy outlaw… Maybe one day I could live up to that name." Jack's eyes watched as she expertly flipped the cards against themselves, the loud noise filling the hallway. 

"Hate to break it to you, Billy the kid never robbed banks. He's just known for murdering people."

Peering up at him from the corner of her eye, her posture deflated, "Oh…." Billy sighed. 

They sat there in silence after that, Jack feeling some form of regret telling her about Billy the kid. The girl had seemed thrilled in her blissful unawareness, so happy with only a shared name that connected the two. Which was utterly ridiculous, and in any other circumstance Jack would have enjoyed watching the girls dreams come crashing down from the clouds. However it was like a small light had been snuffed inside of her and Jack hated that he caused that. Which blew his mind, cause why would he care about some girl he just met and her no good thoughts. She'd be gone in a few weeks, out of his life for good! The narrows would swallow her up just like it did the other kids, and he really shouldn't have cared. But he did on some level, and it fucking bothered him. 

"Billy where the fuck you at, you little piece of shit?" An angry voice screamed from just beyond the door she had been leaning against. The abruptness caused the girl to flinch and drop the stack of cards she was holding. 

They fell like dominos down the stairs, fluttering off in all sorts of directions. Making a fucking mess. 

Jack watched as she threw herself off the steps and down the stairs chasing after all the playing cards. "Fuck I'm gonna be in so much trouble." She muttered to herself as she frantically began the daunting task. 

Without much thought, Jack did something that surprised himself again. He stood up and grabbed a few of the cards that had fallen towards the top of the stairs. Bunching them together in his hand, before looking down at the Ace of hearts that was face up. The corner dog-eared like a well read book, from constant use probably. 

"I said where the fuck you at girl." A man ripped the door open to her apartment, and stumbled out. The stench of bad tequila filling the air almost immediately.

"I-im I'm sorry I…" Billy stuttered out as she crawled on the ground grabbing the last of the cards.  Her hands trembled bad enough that Jack could tell from where he stood that she was terrified. 

Eyeing the man cautiously, Jack saw him take a step closer to the edge of the stairs. His arm raised slightly, fingers twitching, ready to strike her hard when she finally made her way back to him. 

"Sorry, I tripped into Billy while I was coming down the steps. Made her drop her cards." Jack lied with a laugh, and held up the few in his hands. "I was just helping her pick them up." 

The drunken slob of a man, took a steadying breath, probably knowing he couldn't pummel a kid that wasn't his own. The man's overtly round face, covered in a patchy beard and a badly trimmed mustache that had the remnants of cheese puffs littered throughout it, gave Jack a nasty look. His lip turned up in pure disgust. 

"Yeah well watch where you fucking walk next time." He flicked his hand at Jack, and then turned his attention to Billy. Who was now standing up straight at the bottom of the landing, cards in hand. "You, " He pointed at her with a chubby accusatory finger, "pick up your goddamn mess and get in the house, and don't make me fucking tell you again." 

Jack watched as the man turned ungracefully on his heel and stumbled back from the pit in which he came. Slamming the door behind him with such power, some of the cracked plaster on the ceiling fell to the floor.

"You didn't have to lie." 

"I know." He heard her take a few hesitant steps up, until she was standing side by side with himself. "I ain't in the mood to watch an ass kicking at the moment." He couldn't stop the tiny laugh that escaped him at his own humorless joke. 

Tilting his head towards Billy, he finally held out the few cards that he managed to collect. She greedily took them back into her possession, and Jack watched as the girl seemed to be counting them to herself. Her fingers flipping past each number making sure they were all accounted for. 

"Thank you." Her voice was softer than anything Jack had ever heard as she finished what she was doing and tucked the cards back into her vest pocket. 

"He hit you a lot?" Jack asked aloud, as the girl pushed past him and towards her apartment door. 

Shrugging her shoulders, Billy nodded her head. "Not as much as my real dad did, so I'm lucky enough. I know some kids got it worse than me, so I'm not complaining."

"Lucky?" He quirked a brow at her choice of words. Luck was nowhere to be seen in the Narrows, especially not in that girls apartment. 

Perhaps the girl had been struck in the head so many times it actually made her dense. It wouldn't be a surprise to him if that was the case, because no one, and he meant no one, would ever call themselves lucky with the life she seemingly led. 

"You got to believe in something, right?" She smirked. "Luck seems more plausible than some god or a superhero saving me. Plus I got this." Reaching back into her pocket the girl drew out a single card, and quickly flicked it over to him.

Jack caught it and huffed an amused laugh. His eyes falling upon the joker card that belonged to her deck. The jester was skillfully juggling three knives while he balanced with one foot on a large green and purple circus ball. The character itself was off putting, his face painted white, his lips smudged with red paint  that made his maniacal grin even more pronounced. His jester hat constructed out of oddly colored rattlesnakes, multiple wrapped around one another to give its iconic shape. Their rattling tails hung as the bells at the tips. It was clearly far from the typical playing card one could get at the Bodega down the block. 

"It's my lucky card, bad things don't happen as often when I have it on me." 

Jack couldn't help but continue to stare at it. The wheels in his mind spun endlessly with hundreds of questions, but he knew he'd never have time to get them answered. She was on borrowed time as it was, and he didn't want to hold her up further. Cause if he did, the girl probably wouldn't be able to see at all next time he ran into her. The guy inside, smashing her other eye to the point it was swelled shut as well. 

Looking up into her eyes, Jack attempted to hand it back. But Billy just shook her head at him. 

"You keep it, it's the least I can do after you saved my ass. Maybe it will bring you some luck." She smiled at him before turning and opening her apartment door making her exit. 

"If you give me this, won't your luck be gone?" His words stopped her in her tracks. But all Jack could focus on was her soft laughter.

Without turning to face him, she pulled another card free from her pocket, twisting it expertly between two fingers so the face of it was in Jack's direction. An inverted match to the very card that he held in his hands. "There's always two jokers." 

Just as quick as she pulled it free, Billy shoved it back into her pocket, "See you around." She chuckled before disappearing into her apartment. Leaving Jack alone in the stairwell, staring quizzically at the place the girl once was. His lip twitching up in amusement, before he shook his head clear of their encounter. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The joker cracked an eye open as he startled awake. It was a rare occurrence in recent years that his dreams would startle him out of sleep. That was only reserved for a specific time in his life, and that was not now anymore. 

His half sleep blurred vision instantly focused on the ever growing water stain that was spreading across the ceiling tiles. It's dark brownish edges tainting the once white paint, giving the already run down room a greater sense of abandonment. 

His hand stretched out wantingly, his long fingers gripping into the cool sheets of the spot next to him. The spot that had been vacant for many years now. An emptiness that slowly consumed him in absolute sorrow, and then engulfed him in a burning rage, no one could ever put out. 

It was a pain that radiated through the Joker like a poison when his mind traveled to her. Pleading for him to remember, remember a time when things were pleasant. When she was by his side, and in his bed, places he could keep her safe. 

But he couldn't, the day Gotham took her from him was the day its reckoning started. They would all pay, every last one of them.

#joker x ofc #joker #the joker #joker x reader #young joker #heath ledger #one shot #fanfiction #the dark knight #not good at this #wish me luuuuck #cards #card tricks

[cuddles-with-bucky]

My Face, Your Boxers

Bucky X Reader

Authors Notes: Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​​ and thank you so much for allowing me to combine these two amazing prompts together!!! Hope I did it justice!

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, pranks, language, sexual tension, talks of sex, implied smut.

Words 2,372

Prompts:

Y/N and Bucky have never got along and are always bickering. One day, he decides to prank her by changing all of her lace underwear to briefs with his face all over them.

Bucky has a date tonight and reader changes all of his boxers to “Pardon My Hardon” boxers.

The boxers:

“You’re putting way too much milk on your cereal, doll.” Bucky elbowed you, almost knocking you off the stool and spilling the milk everywhere.

“Fuck off and mind your own business.” You gritted through your teeth, wanting to knock that smug grin off his stupid face. 

“Ah, young love.” Sam teased as he walked casually into the kitchen that was thick with sexual tension, no thanks to you and Barnes. You shot him a glare, pouring your milk carelessly over your cereal.

“Y/N seriously, fucking leave some milk for the rest of us!” Bucky warned, reaching over and snatching the bottle from your hand.

“Stop being up my ass all the damn time Barnes.” You said, scooping some cereal up on a spoon and shoveling it into your mouth. “If you want me to fuck you up the ass doll, all you gotta do is ask.” 

“I’m out!” Sam announced, grabbing an orange and leaving quickly, leaving just you and Bucky alone in the kitchen which was always a very bad idea since you didn’t get along with the man. 

You’re not really sure why, ever since he came to the compound, he acted cold and distant with you despite your warm welcoming and months later, he became the biggest dick. 

“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth.” You argued, loved pushing his squishy buttons. Despite him being an enormous asshole, he was so easy to piss off and you loved it.

“Hypothetical question, why?” Bucky pressed, taking a seat next to you and watched in amusement as you kept on shoveling the cereal in your mouth. 

“Well first of all; you’re always sweaty and disgusting and I imagine you grunt a fucking lot. And secondly; I repeat my first point. Thirdly; I’m best friends with my vibrator that always lets me cum first. Something I don’t see you doing.” 

“Aww, you jealous doll ‘cause you don’t have a man to know, lick you and fuck you into the mattress?” Bucky smirked, leaning his forearms on the counter.

“Jealous? HA. I actually feel quite sorry for any poor woman underneath you as you drip your disgusting sweat on her face. I’m GRATEFUL for that. Besides, wouldn’t want your dentures to fall out as you sucked the life out of me, plus, I’m a really nice person, now please, fuck off and have a great day.” 

“Whatever you say, doll.” Bucky chuckled, drawing the pet name out since he knew how much it annoyed you. He was getting up to leave and missed the spoon being launched at his head by seconds. 

“Sergeant Barnes?” The AI beeped as Bucky walked into the common room. 

“What is it, FRIDAY?” Bucky asked, looking up in the air. 

“A parcel has arrived and Mr Stark has left it in your room, sir.” 

Bucky laughed knowing exactly what the parcel was, and it was all planned perfectly since you would be out of the compound most of today. 

Bucky hurried back to his room and unpacked the parcel that was sitting on his bed, he cut the tape and laughed maniacally as he pulled the new custom ordered underwear out of the box. He spent hundreds of dollars on this and it had to go right. 

He put a few hundred into a separate bag and hid the box in his closet in case someone decided to barge in like they normally did. Bucky exited his bedroom, walking down to the other end of the hall where your room was, just as he was about to go in, you came out.

“What?” You asked confused, putting your keys and phone in your pocket. 

“I was- I thought you were out?” Bucky stammered, subtly moving the bag of underwear behind his back so you couldn’t get a peek. 

“God, what are you, my husband? If you really must know, I’m just leaving so leave your testicles in your pants and stay out of my room. I remember what you did last time and I don’t want another cleaning bill.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky saluted. He was amused you didn’t even wonder why he was outside your door, or maybe you did and just didn’t care since Bucky always did go out of his way to annoy the fuck of you. Him being there was nothing to you.

While Bucky sneaked into your room, you had your own secret meeting with a friend in Brooklyn. You knew Bucky had a date tonight, because he’s talked about it non stop since last week and since he embarrassed you on your last date, you figured a little paycheck was overdue. Your friend had ordered you over 300 pairs of boxers. Boxers you were planning to plant in Bucky’s dresser so his date could freak the hell out. 

You were an observant person, and his sweatpants never hid anything that great. The man constantly walked around with a boner, it was so obvious so these boxers were true, but you know, they would excuse it for him when his date sees him. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. 

Bucky pulled all your lace panties out and threw him carelessly onto your bed, including your bras. He unpacked the new briefs and folded them neatly into the top two drawers of your dresser, snickering as he saw the print on them. It was probably quite a childish prank, but he was sure you’d get a kick out of it.

Once Bucky was done, he put your laced panties in the bag he brought with him and left your room undisturbed and went back to his to hide the panties and meet Steve at the bar for a few beers. 

You actually passed Bucky in the lobby, just as he stepped out, you were about to step in. He noticed a box in your hands, around the same size as the one he had delivered and snickered. How ironic would it be if you pranked with him the same underwear. 

“Whatcha got there dollface?” Bucky purred, adjusting his leather jacket. You couldn’t deny he looked smoking hot in his black outfit. “More dildos?” He teased.

You snickered and stepped into the elevator. “Why? Jealous they might be bigger than you Barnes?” You cackled, pressing the button to your. 

“STAY OUT OF MY ROOM!” You heard him yell just as the doors closed. 

If anyone was to blame for this prank, it would be Bucky for leaving his damn door unlocked and making it too easy. You had no problem breaking into his room and removing his tattered and worn boxers, some with holes where the wiener would be, why he had a fucking hole there was anyone’s guess, you’d like to think it was because he probably rubbed one out every time he was alone in this room. 

You replaced his ragged old boxers with some lovely new ones. They were red with a black waistband. The imprint on the front where his bulge would be read “Pardon My Hardon.” To now, you cackled like crazy every time you read it. You could imagine the look on his face, and also his date’s face. 

Apparently, he was hoping to get lucky tonight. With these boxers, that’s not gonna happen. This was their first date after all. Once you hid his old boxers under the bed, you proceeded with the second part of your plan to make sure he would wear these and not notice them; remove all lightbulbs from his room. You paid Tony in good faith to cut the electricity for tonight when Bucky would be in his room changing anyway, but to be sure Tony didn’t follow through on his promise for some reason, you needed to remove the lights just in case. 

You clapped your hands when you got the last light bulb out, also throwing them under his bed and left his room undisturbed. 

Now you just had to wait.

***

Bucky returned back to the compound around 8 p.m and already it was dark outside. The heavy rain clouds that lingered over NYC ended daylight quicker than expected. To make matters worse, the storm had cut electricity out in the compound. Candles were lit everywhere, except for Bucky’s room since he just needed a quick wash and change of clothes. His eyes had never let him down before and he knew his room like the back of his hand. 

He closed the curtains in his room and walked into the bathroom, washing his face and hands and patting himself dry with a towel he felt around for. 

Bucky could hear the distinctive chatter from his teammates down the hall as they sat in the common room talking about the storm. Thunder and lightning came suddenly and the rain pelted against the floor-to-window panes. This storm came suspiciously quickly. Considering he was aware Thor was in town.

But these thoughts never really crossed his mind and he didn’t piece it together. He was thinking about Dot and his date tonight. He whipped his black jeans off along with his boxers, opening the drawer, he felt around for a pair and grabbed them.

His fingertips traced along the waistband until he felt the silk label and slipped into them. They felt a little tighter than usual, but Bucky had been working on beefing up again. 

Bucky reached into his closet and pulled a clean pair of jeans off the hanger and slipped them on. He next removed his shirt and picked a button up off the hanger on the other side of the closet. When he was dressed and happy, he sprayed some cologne around his throat and neck, picked up his leather jacket off the bed and left his room. 

He walked a little down the hall when your door suddenly ripped open, scaring the shit out of him. He stumbled and put his hand over his heart.

“Did you seriously fucking change my underwear to your stupid face?!” You gritted through your teeth. 

“I did.” He shrugged, smirking as he now leaned against the doorframe. “Now you will always have me between your legs, doll.” Bucky teased, licking his dry lips. 

You huffed out a laugh and shook your head. You’d never tell him, but you actually really liked the briefs. They were exceptionally comfortable and you find them funny. You couldn’t imagine the look on a man’s face though as he peeled them off you.

“You have a date tonight right?” You questioned, the candlelight behind you just about makes out his features. 

“I do, so no need to wait up. I’ll leave some earplugs in the common room so we don’t keep you awake.” 

You laughed, there was no way he was getting any tonight with those boxers he was most likely wearing. 

“Enjoy the *squeak, squeak, squeak*” You teased, imitating his squeaky mattress that you heard often.

“Enjoy your vibrators that you had delivered today.” He retorted. You snorted and retreated back into your room, slamming the door unintentionally in his face.

***

You didn’t know what time it was when you fell asleep. Once Bucky had left earlier, you found Tony and Thor and thanked them with a hug each for their part in your plan. Let’s face it, without them, this wouldn’t have worked. But it seemed you were right and Bucky really was that naive. 

You’re not sure what woke you up either, you thought you heard a knock on your door but it must have been in your dream. You rolled onto your back and stretched, putting your arm under your pillow, you just started to doze off again when the knock came louder this time. 

You glared towards the door, rolling over to flick a lamp on and dragged yourself from the comfort of your bed towards it. You opened the door and on the other side stood a rather tired and unamused Bucky Barnes. 

“Barnes? Are you lost, you’re room is down the hall on-”

“What the fuck did you do to my boxers?” He seethed, his jaw and fists clenched. You rubbed your eyes and chuckled, angering Bucky more. 

“Oh, you saw them.” Is all you said, his eyes flickering down to his custom briefs. He couldn’t help but become aroused when he saw a slight wet spot and your nipples tenting underneath your tank top. 

“No, Dot saw them and she was fucking horrified!” 

“Poor Dot. You know, they are really funny and I’m sorry but if she couldn’t take the joke then maybe she isn’t the one for you.” You stated, folding your arms across your chest and resting them under your breasts, the swells of your breasts now threatening to spill out. 

Bucky said nothing as he took a step towards you. You remained still in your place, his breath fanned over your face. 

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe then I don’t want another man between your legs, on briefs or otherwise.” Bucky sighed. Your arms dropped down by your side and Bucky took the opportunity to reach out and take on, guiding it to his hard bulge. Your hand squeezed him and he moaned quietly. 

“If you want this, if you really want me, then I suggest you get in here and get your face between my legs for real.” 

“If I knew planting briefs with my face on them would make me fuck you, I’d have done it months ago.” Bucky chuckled, his hands on your waist as he walked you backwards. He kicked the door closed with his foot, guiding you two back towards the bed until your knees hit the side of the mattress. Bucky kneeled on the floor before you, his fingers hovering on the waistband of the briefs. 

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked, needing to hear you say it. “I know we hate each-”

“I don’t hate you. And I’m sure. Please…” 

“Good, me neither. Once I start, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”

“Then don’t stop.” That’s all Bucky needed to hear. Once those words left your lips, your briefs were ripped from your body and your legs thrown over his broad shoulders. His tongue diving in between your seeping folds.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you

[skullrock]

the tree - Steve x Reader

12 days of Christmas fics, day 9 - the tree

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: Steve decorates the tree with his kids for their fifth Christmas. (early 90s au)

word count: 1.3k

warnings: it gets like a lil suggestive towards the end but, as they say, only if u squint

a/n: hi this is like... a major comfort fic for me!! when I was growing up I used to decorate the tree w my mom, dad, and brother, and learned a lot about my mom and dad through the ornaments they collected over the course of their relationship. decorating the tree was my favorite day of the year, and though we don’t do it anymore, I can at least live vicariously thru writing <3 hope u enjoy!

“You started without me?”

You whirl around to face Steve, who’s shrugging his snowy jacket off at the front door. Your kids, Lily and Audrey, jump off the floor and fly towards him. “Dad!”

“It’s me,” he smiles, bending down to hug them both. “I thought I told you guys to wait til I got home?”

“We couldn’t wait, daddy,” Audrey pouts. “You took too long!”

“I was gone for five hours!” he laughs. “Can’t believe mom let you.”

“They were very persuasive,” you beam.

“Yeah?” he asks, looking back at the girls. They were his pride and joy, his everything. His face always lit up when he walked through the door, or when he went to their preschool plays. He loved them more than anything in the world. You couldn’t get over his adoration for them - and their adoration for him.

“It sounds like maybe… maybe… it’s time for….” Steve grabs Lily and starts tickling her, giggling when she starts giggling.

“Dad, stop!” Lily shrieks, trying to twist away from him.

Audrey goes behind him and wraps her arms around his neck, jumping onto his back. “Daddy, don’t!”

“Oh, you want some, too?” he beams, reaching for Audrey, pulling her down and tickling her, too.

“Mommy, help!”

“Okay, tickle monster,” you say, walking over towards them. “Leave ‘em alone, it was my idea, anyw-“

“You!” Steve shouts, letting go of Audrey and grabbing you. “My own wife!”

“Steve -“ you laugh, and then shriek when he starts tickling you, too. “St- Steve! Stop!”

“Tickle monster stops for no one,” he says, but lets you go, both of you panting and giggling. You step forward to hug him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Missed you,” you say quietly.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m here now.”

Lily tugs on Steve’s jeans. “Daddy, tree!”

“Okay,” he says, pulling away from you. “Show me what you’ve done already.”

Lily and Audrey take him to the tree set up in the corner of your living room. It only had a few bulbs on it, but Steve always loved decorating the tree. He liked the nostalgia, and he especially liked all of the sentimental ornaments you’d both collected over the years. Every year for the past five years, he told Audrey and Lily the story for almost every ornament, and let them put it on the tree, sometimes lifting them up to get towards the top. It’d quickly become one of your favorite traditions, too.

“Here, look!” Audrey says, pointing at a snowman shaped ornament and tugging on Steve’s hand. “This one is me!”

It was a picture of Audrey when she was a newborn, her hair as thick as Steve’s. Steve looks at it, and even though he’d been the one who told her who it was, he still furrows his brows. “That’s not you.”

“Yeah huh!”

“Can’t be,” he says, trying not to smile. “You’re right here.”

“No, dad, it’s a picture!”

“That’s a baby,” Steve says, smile breaking through. “You’re not a baby now, are you?”

“No!” she shouts. “I’m five!”

“That’s right!” Steve laughs. “I’m kidding, sweetheart. That’s you.”

“Me!” Lily yells, pointing at her own picture. She was born on the same day and took after you, her eyes the same color as yours. They both took after their dad in terms of loudness.

Steve gasps. “Look at that! You’ve grown up so much!”

“Let’s add some more,” you say, sitting down on the floor, the rest of them following. Audrey climbs into Steve’s lap and Lily presses herself as close as possible so she can listen to him tell stories.

You pull out one that says Christmas, 1988. It was in the shape of a candy cane with a mouse propping it up. “This was our first Christmas together.”

“My mom bought us that,” Steve says, taking it from you. “So tacky.”

“What’s tacky?” Lily asks.

“It’s like when mom wore that neon green dress to prom.”

“Oh, shut up, Steve -“

“Here, go ahead and hang it Lil.” He passes it off to her and grabs another one. This one is a small wooden nutcracker. “This is from your house, right?”

“Yep. I think my first grade teacher gave me that.”

“Boring,” Steve says, handing it to Audrey. “Hide it somewhere.”

“You’re so mean!”

“Am not,” he says, leaning over to kiss your temple. “Just gotta keep the crowd entertained.”

You roll your eyes but smile. You grab another ornament - a snowman with a tiny picture frame. It had a picture of you and Steve in it from your second Christmas - Steve wore an extremely ugly sweater. “That’s tacky.”

“Yeah,” he says absentmindedly, taking it in his hands. “Girls, what do you think?”

“It’s my best picture of you and mom,” Audrey says, turning around in Steve’s lap to kiss his cheek. “Pretty.”

“Pretty,” Lily repeats. “Were you guys in lub?”

“In love? Yeah,” Steve smiles. “Or, I was, at least.”

“Oh, I was, too,” you assure him quickly. “I’d never been so in love. I still am.”

Steve smiles over at you while your daughters shout an awwwww!

“Was daddy, like, your prince?” Lily says, pushing herself harder into Steve to be closer.

“More like my knight in shining armor,” you say. They didn’t know about the Upside Down - and they hopefully never would - but Steve really was more like a knight than anything. And a prince. He’d saved your life in more ways than one. “Or, well, in a Members Only jacket.”

“I loved that jacket.”

“I did, too.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, leaning towards you again.

“Focus, daddy!” Audrey shouts, pulling his chin back towards the tree. Steve laughs and keeps going, grabbing ornaments and explaining their origins, then letting the girls put them on the tree. You leave after a while to make them hot chocolate, and the girls run into the kitchen, hugging your legs.

“Thank you mommy!” they say in unison.

“For what, babies?” you ask, grabbing their mugs.

“Hot choccy,” Audrey says, and you laugh - Steve says it that way and they’d both attached to it.

“We lub you,” Lily says, planting a kiss on your thigh.

Steve walks in, smiling. “I lub you, too,” he joins in, coming to lean on the counter next to you. You give their mugs and they leave, heading upstairs.

“Where’re they going?” you ask, handing Steve his mug.

“I told them they should go watch the Muppets,” he smirks, bumping his hips into yours. “Which means we are alone.”

“Interesting,” you smile. “That Members Only jacket comment must’ve really gotten to you, huh?”

“And the tree,” he says. “And you. And our pictures. I love you so much.”

You smile smugly. “The tree got you excited?”

“No,” he laughs, sitting his mug down so he could hug you. “I just love you. Okay?”

“I love you, too,” you sigh, pulling him in close. “Maybe we should watch Muppets.”

“We can,” he says, “but only if you sit by me.”

“Can do,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you, even if you called my prom dress tacky.”

“And I love you, even if you lost my Members Only jacket when we moved.”

“That was not my fault and you know it!”

“Definitely was,” Steve says, nodding, a piece of hair falling over his forehead. “It’s okay. I still love you.”

You kiss him. “Love you too, Steve.”

===

steve tags: @harrington-ofhawkins @comedy-witch @gothackedalready @sassisaluxury @ willowrose99 @harringtown @write-from-the-heart @m-blasterrr @whimsicalwoodlands @anerroroccurrrrred @marvels-gurl @the-almond-dinger @ssanjuniperoo @darth-el @kurtsbuckethat @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @astil-be @troop-scoop @ilovebucketbarnes @mybestfriendthedingus @unknownherelm @metuel18 @magnitude101999 @lukeskisses @bethhxrmon @stevenismyboy @flyingrichardgrayson @scoopsahoy @strangest-hour @lucifer-reads @stevexscoops @prettysbliss @patientplum @theworriedman @quentin-smith @nelson-and-murdock​ @pterawaters​ @mpmarypoppins​

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #my fics #stranger things fic #YES her name is Audrey bc twin peaks.... what of it

[hajimeme-hinata]

Actual degen souposting. 1k. he’s having sex for money

He’s a cute underweight boy working the night shift in a shady part of town, it’s not a surprise he gets weird customers once in a while. Well, more like all the time; normal people don’t come in at 3am. Sometimes it’s a group of drunk friends all shouting over each other as they pack the counter with every sort of snack in the store, slipping some into their pockets when they think he isn’t looking. Sometimes it’s a disgruntled guy covered in tattoos throwing enough gas money on the counter to reach the next city in one night. Sometimes it’s a guy smelling heavily of alcohol and smoke coming up to the counter and demanding a pack of cigarettes behind the display case, and when he turns to slide open the case Shin hears him ask with a gritty smoker voice, “How much?” He gives his usual nervous customer service laugh and responds with the price of the cigarettes, to which the guy says, “Not the cigarettes. You.” The air feels heavy in his lungs as he laughs even softer than before, saying he doesn’t understand while avoiding eye contact like the plague, forced to hear the guy’s ragged breathing as he stands there in complete silence ringing his order up. He can feel him watching him the entire time, and the violating feeling doesn’t go away even after the guy leaves the counter and the door swings to mark his exit.

Yeah, he gets those guys sometimes. The only solace he has in those moments is the permanent gaze of the security cameras. Not that anyone’s ever tried anything, the furthest they’ve gone is offering him x amount of money for them to take him out for a drive when his shift ends. He’s never accepted, of course, for the risk of never seeing daylight again isn’t worth whatever the money could buy.

Well, until it was.

His name wasn’t on the Saturday night shift. He already only works three days a week, the most the owner could spare him, so the lack of one of his shifts spelled panic. When he frantically called up the owner to ask why his hours had been cut, he just responded apologetically that one of the full timers needed to work a few extra hours that month, and that it would be all back to normal in a few weeks. If Shin was a more assertive person, he might have demanded the hours back, or... more realistically, politely asked for alternate hours. Instead, he heard his own voice softly tell the owner that it was no problem. The end of call tone beeped in his ear for a few seconds as the dread of reality swirled and seeped into his stomach. He felt sick.

He hadn’t eaten for two days. Rent was more important than food, he told himself. His body could recover, it was just a couple more days. He’d get his paycheck on Friday, and he could go buy a few packs of cup ramen and fill his stomach then. Maybe if the owner came in at the end of his shift today he’d let him bring home an expired bento for free. If he was lucky...

A pack of beer was slammed onto the counter in front of him. The noise startled him out of his thoughts, and he quickly picked up the scanner to ring it up.

“Not even gonna greet me?”

Shin looked up from the cash register. From the words, he thought that maybe it was someone who recognized him, but of course it wasn’t. It was just another sleazy guy with booze breath.

Shin flicked his eyes back to the buttons on the machine. “Um, hi...”

“Not a talker, huh?” The guy’s hands were planted on the counter.

He didn’t respond. Just clicked a few things on the register and read out the price like he always did.

“That’s fine, you don’t gotta talk.” From the corner of his eye, Shin saw him pull out his wallet and pull a few bills out. He held out the cash, but when Shin reached for it, the guy pulled it back, making Shin grasp at thin air. He let out a wheezy laugh at the action. “What time’s your shift end, baby?”

The name injected Shin with utter repulsion. He looked off to the side as he responded. “N-no thanks.”

“Really? Even for hundred?”

He was about to say no again. Like he always did to this sort of question. But his thoughts were silenced by sharp pain in his stomach. A hundred dollars was... a lot. More than what a full shift would give him. He wouldn’t even need to budget on cup ramen was that, he could actually splurge on some meat or actual vegetables with that. Or buy a roll of duct tape to fix his fridge handle. Or a new kitchen light bulb so he wouldn’t need to use his phone light to make dinner anymore. Or-

“You’re looking spaced out. Is that a yes?” Shin could hear the smile in his voice.

“Um... I-I get out in half an hour, I don’t know if you want to-”

“Perfect. I’ll be waiting for you.” The guy threw the money on the counter and picked up the pack of beer, shooting him a wink as he turned to head out the door. 

God, Shin felt sick.

He wasn’t lying when he said he’d be waiting. After the half hour had passed and he exchanged shifts, the first spot next to the exit was occupied by the guy’s car, him in the driver’s seat. He motioned to the passenger side, and Shin’s feet felt wobbly as he slowly walked over to car door, pulling it open and sitting inside. He had a fleeting thought about whether his bike would be okay sitting out at the rack as the guy started up the car and pulled out of the parking spot.

The rumbling of the engine didn’t do much to untie the knot in his stomach. It’s just one time, he thought, even as the guy draped his hand around the side of his neck, pulling him down and closer.

It’s just one time.

#and by that I mean. it’s horny. open post #it’s long. you should read it #um. for context look at prev post its somewhere #disclaimer I’m just souposting don’t expect anything too good

[nachohypno]

Pine’s Football Jocks (Rewritten!) - Ch. 5

Present Pine’s POV

Man, I feel so good right now.

Like, no responsibilities crossing my mind. No managing stuff to check for neither the club or the football team. No homework, finished all of it already. It was all just… perfect.

I could do whatever I wanted! I could play a video game from start to end in one go. Binge-watch a show while wearing my soft pajamas and covered in a blanket while eating sour cream chips. Whatever I want! Because I have free time!

I must admit: Having coach Mark as a live-in slave was one of the best ideas I’ve ever had. He took care of the cooking, cleaning, Mike (for any tasks that didn’t require love and affection, of course) and other tasks around, leaving me with lots of time to catch up on the stuff I had piling up, leading up to this happy moment of mine!

Let me explain for a bit. There was this weird thing happening at Winston high, involving the water and gas pipes being quite old and suffering from leaks. This, of course, led to the school being closed until the leaks had been solved, giving coach Mark one week of free time, which he was going to spend at coach Peter’s place, his old friend or whatever they are.

A little light bulb turned on above my head, and after the shift was over and my workers closed the sports club, I ordered Mark to gather his stuff and come to my place.

Now, he’s been sleeping in the extra bedroom we’ve got for… the last two weeks. I may or may not have ordered him to extend his free time to stay with me and Mikey.

Mike was playing a game at the living room, while I laid down in my bed, cozily resting like a baby. I could hear rain outside, so I didn’t think I would be going anywhere today. A perfect day to just stay over and do… nothing.

“Hey, bro?” Mike said, shaking my leg a little bit to get my attention. “We’ve got that doctor’s appointment soon. Shouldn’t we get ready or somethin’?”

‘Fuck, I forgot about that’.

I sighed, there goes my relaxation time. I reached out for my phone on the night table. “We still have two hours before having to get ready.”

“Awww, c’mooooon… I’m bored! Bored, bored, bored!” The big guy climbed on the bed, quickly getting behind me and pulling me closer for cuddles. A quick smooch on my cheek before he resumed saying “Bored” and smooching me again, attempting an endless cycle of smooches and the word ‘bored’.

“Okay, okay! I get it! But I can’t pull the appointment forward, big guy. We just have to be patient and… relax.” I said, moving quickly enough to catch him before he smooched me, and kissing him on the lips. I smiled afterwards, and he gave me a little dumb chuckle.

“Alriiiiight… Can we do something, at least? I don’t wanna play alone anymore…” Mike mumbled, slowly going to my ear and nibbling it.

“Would you like to hear the last chapter?” That was my wild card. I knew he would accept that no matter what, and I didn’t want to use my powers to make him calm down. I just wanted to relax after all my work…

“Yeah, bro! Would really love to-“

“Well, calm down for a bit, sit down over there and give me a minute.” I ordered, and he obeyed. Mike pulled away from the hug, and I moved for a bit to see his glassy eyes and his dummy smile as he carried out my commands. Not going to lie, it was a bit of a turn on.

I went back to my perfect position, barely moving for a few more moments, before I shouted “Mark! Could you come here for a bit?”

I had to sit up for a bit, as I noticed the coach entering the bedroom. The older muscular man was wearing nothing but his underwear, and his usual chain link necklace falling between his pecs. “How may I serve you, master?” He asked, standing at attention like some kind of soldier.

“Come up here, lay with us for a bit.” I ordered, patting the spot between me and Mike. Mark nodded and climbed the bed, slowly crawling over to the spot before turning around and sitting down in the middle. “Okay, so let me see…” I mumbled, reaching out for my laptop on the night table.

It didn’t take long for me to find the file and open it up. After that, I just scrolled over to the last chapter, and passed the thing to the coach who just stared at me while waiting for more commands.

“Read this out loud for Mikey, alright? Imagine you’re reading a bedtime story or something…” I would have loved to read that, but I preferred to just listen while relaxing on my own for today.

“Of course, master. Starting from ‘I felt awesome’, right?” Mark asked, and I nodded.

“Wait, bro. I thought you were going to read it… I mean, no offense coach.” Mikey complained, and he was starting to get on my nerves. I love him! But I wanted to enjoy this little moment!

“None taken, master Mike”

“Mike, just lay down, hug the coach, and listen to the story. You really want to hear him telling it today.” I honestly didn’t want to reach the point of solving the problem with my powers, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t mind at all. I heard him whisper the usual ‘Yes, master…’, as he slid down a bit and hugged the coach’s muscular body.

I sent the coach a ‘hug Mike back with one arm’ through the mind link, because I thought they would look really cute doing that. I sat up for a bit just to watch my handy work, and went over my expectations.

Two hunks, dumb smiles with glassy eyes hugging each other, as the coach prepared himself to tell the story.

I hugged the coach too, and prepared to hear the last chapter of my first plan, too. I gotta say, his arm felt comfortable to lay my head at.

-----

Past Pine’s POV

I felt AWESOME.

Not only I managed to make the bullying completely stop by now (I don’t know if the coach or Gary had anything to do with it, but the football players just acted like I didn’t exist anymore and I LOVE THAT), but I also managed to enslave one of the hottest guys around, along with the football coach!

And let’s not leave Brent behind! We played Minecraft last night, it was actually pretty fun! He wore a random naked guy skin because I ordered him to and I would burst in laugh every time he approached me in-game with his nudist avatar.

So… what’s next?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not usually a vengeful person. Now that the bullying stopped, actually. I feel like I can put down the mind control blanket and somehow never use them again, but a part of me actually wanted to have a bit of fun as payback for all the stuff that happened.

And sadly, (For them) I decided to go with the latter part.

It’s been a week or so since the coach went under, and after the little fun we’ve had at his office, nothing else really happened. I wanted to keep things undercover for some time, but I decided to start planning the last phase of my not-really-well-thought plan.

First, we needed a place to carry it out, and that’s why I decided to visit… the coach’s house!

Hey, he said that I could use anything he owned. So, I guess he won’t mind if I use his house as a little base or something.

Gary was driving me here, a little smile on his face. He wasn’t tranced, of course. I don’t want to risk using my powers while he drives or anything. What if I told him to go to a certain place faster and he suddenly went through the woods or something? The sole thought of it terrified me.

Winston is not a big town, but it’s kind of divided in sections and all. The commercial part, residential zone, and the zone with the big houses and crazy pricing. It’s not like an avenue of mansions, this is a small town after all. But some people do have nice houses, and coach Mark seemed to be one of them.

“We’re…” Gary mumbled, once we entered the property. He stopped the car in front of the house. “Here. What now?”

“We just explore the place. Ever came here? Mike told me you and the coach were pretty close.” I said, getting my bag and walking out of the car. Gary followed me quickly, stepping out and closing his door.

“Kinda, y’could say so. I’m the best player of the team, so I guess he just wanted to pay extra attention to me.” Gary shrugged, before grabbing the house’s key from his back pocket. I asked him to carry it before, when the coach gave us a copy. “I don’t mind it, it’s kinda nice. He yells at me a bit less than the other guys''

I can tell that’s a really great advantage, and I’m really glad the guy starts acting like a robot-ish slave whenever we’re alone. He drops the f-bomb like crazy when he’s mad, and he seems mad all the time.

My jock partner opened the front door, and we went in.

The place looked… certainly not like I expected it. I expected something more ‘manly’ or coach-like, probably filled with supplement cans to the ceiling or something like that. But nope, it was just a regular house. Maybe expensive looking, but it didn’t top Garrett’s family mansion.

Garrett didn’t seem surprised. “What do you think?” I asked him, wanting to hear his mind on the matter.

“Huh? Been here before. It’s… a house, I guess? I still don’t know what you’re planning to do, bro, so I can’t really help you unless you tell me.” He shrugged again. He was right, though. I can’t expect him to guess my plans, right?

“Well… Do you think the whole football team… will most of the football team fit here?” I asked, crossing my arms. I looked around while I waited for his answer. The place wasn’t small at all, but if I wanted to carry out the plan here… we would have to squeeze everyone in, probably. Unless I separated them in groups and sent each group to a room.

The football players are big. Not as big as Gary or Mike, but big.

“Hmm… Not here, but maybe in the backyard.” The big guy mentioned, motioning with his head to follow him.

Oh, I didn’t think of that. I followed Gary as he took me through the house, before we arrived at the backyard.

Hey, it looks quite good! A pool, some plants laying around that are alive, a pair of deck chairs, and there was a little deck with some chairs and a small table, next to a grill. And yeah, it was quite spacious! The jocks would definitely fit in here.

“We’ve got the place covered, then. We should get back, if someone saw us in the house of a school staff person, we would be in trouble.” I pointed that out, as I pictured my plan taking form with the coach’s backyard as our main base.

“Oh… really? But we’ve just arrived! ‘sides, the coach will be here any minute now. You should tell him we’re going to use his place or something, right?” It seemed like he wanted us to stay a bit more, and I kind of couldn’t tell why. “C’mon, I’ve never seen this guy’s bedroom. Please, bro?” Oh, that gives me an idea, yeah.

“If you insist…” I grabbed his hand and pulled him by the pool, next to the deck chairs. “Take off your clothes, leave your underwear on.”

“Sure, master!” He answered, before the show started in front of me. I found it quite funny how Gary seemed so eager to strip, or straight up do what I say now. He’s a good boy. “Done!”

His clothes were all around the floor, as he stood in front of me, seemingly flexing his abs to make them look more defined.

“Now what, master?” He asked, a little smile on his face, probably expecting me to tell him to do something naughty.

“Now we go back to the car, and you drive like that all the way back to my place. How does that sound?” The smile vanished from Gary’s face and the disappointment made me burst in laughter. I just couldn’t help it. If you saw me now, you would never guess this guy was my bully before, and now he frowned because I wouldn’t do naughty stuff with him.

This is gold stuff here, guys!

He remained silent as I kept laughing for a bit, before I regained composure and told him to put his pants on again. Gary only mumbled a defeated ‘Yes, master’, but wouldn’t add any comments or anything like before.

“I’m not having you driving naked around the town. That would be weird. C’mon, let’s head back and call it a day, okay?”

“Sure thing, bro. Can’t be mad at ya.” My classmate answered, lowering his voice at the last bit. It was cute, but I’m not really going to bend over and fuck at the first chance we have. That would be weird.

We headed over to the car as soon as Gary’s jeans were on again, and we went each to our houses. I was happy, already got a place to have my plan at!

-----

It was a slow plan, that’s for sure. It’s been a few weeks and no idea at all on when I was going to continue it. Or even make it happen!

Luckily, it’s not like I don’t have stuff to distract myself with during these ‘wait times’. There were a few exams, and I kind of really like studying. Reading books and preparing my head to gather more knowledge just makes me feel productive!

There were also little hang out times I had with Gary, always a good time. He doesn’t really like video games, says it’s ‘nerd stuff’, but we play them anyway after school because I do like them.

So, I was on my way to the coach’s office during the lunch recess (I had a jam and cheese sandwich in my bag, so I could skip the cafeteria if I wanted) and ask him when the next local football game was happening. If all the football jocks go away to another school, it would be useless. It had to happen at Winston High.

I decided to make a quick stop in the bathroom. Staging a plan makes me pretty nervous, and I like to… chill for a bit. Doing the ‘business’. Why does writing this feel so weird?

Reaching the boys’ bathroom, my thoughts about emptying my bladder were quickly interrupted by sobbing.

It was quite unexpected. So, in my best ‘I want to help!’ mood, which was never usually there in the first place, I asked “Hello? Anybody here?”. Only for the sobbing to stop, of course.

I was curious, so I tried something out. I wanted to help, and maybe this would be my first chance to actually do some good with my newfound powers.

…By messing into other people’s lives, I guess!

“Whoever it is, come out” I ordered, trying to see if my powers made any effect on whoever was sobbing a moment ago. If nobody came out, I would get the hell out of there because I just made a fool of myself. ‘Maybe it was the wind or something’ I thought, before one of the stalls opened.

Mike came out, cleaning his face with his jacket’s sleeve before looking at me. “Yo, bro… Everything a’ight? Heard you called…” He sniffed, before giving me a warm smile. His face was red and his eyes were swollen. He had been there probably for a while.

“Yes, yes. Everything is fine here. What about you? Something bothering you, big guy?” I asked, taking a step closer to him. It was weird seeing him like this. He was always so cheerful, even when dumbed down. Only times I’ve actually seen him sad or mad were the times I didn’t want to speak to him.

I hoped nobody would come in. If someone saw Mikey like this, he would be pretty much ruined. I could always make the intruder forget seeing him like this, I guess. I don’t really trust my control over my powers too much to save me in an emergency.

“I’m… I’m about to get kicked out of the team, bruh.” He sniffed again, and I could see tears slowly forming again in his eyes. “I failed all my exams, and my grades pretty much dropped… I don’t know why, bro! I totally had that stuff nailed down before!”

I gulped, but couldn’t say anything. Mike continued though, so I kept listening. “The principal talked to the coach, and the coach told me earlier today that if my grades didn’t improve, I would be out of the team” I gulped again.

Darn, darn, darn, darn! I did this! These are the consequences of my own actions!

I mean, I didn’t dumb Mike down on purpose, but I didn’t revert it back when I found out about it either! WHAT THE HELL?!

This is actually a big problem, because I remember Mike wanted a football scholarship for college. His big dream is becoming a professional football player, and I was ruining it for him! I wanted to… I don’t know, grab my own head and hit it with a wall. How could I be so reckless?

Watching Mike didn’t help at all. I remember that before the incident, looking up at my best friend has always been some sort of relief. Like ‘Hey, I’m best friends with the best guy in the whole world!’ and it would make me kind of empowered, if that makes sense.

But Mike was really crushed with this stuff. As I mentioned, he was a really positive guy before, and I’ve never seen him cry. Only get mad at a videogame or after being yelled at at football practice.

And I really fucked up this time.

I couldn’t help but feel my head suddenly filled with bad stuff. I KNEW I fucked up, and it was like these little intrusive thoughts wanted to underline how BADLY I had fucked up.

I should have known better!

I sighed, and tried to calm myself down. And for that matter… I went forward and hugged Mikey. “Hey, don’t feel bad. It’s been just some awful weeks, alright?”

Mike wrapped his big arms around me. “Yeah, pretty awful weeks, bruh…” I looked up, and noticed he wasn’t tranced, so that was good. I really didn’t want my powers to get in the way again.

I sighed. I would need them to fix this mess, though.

“And… Uhm… I just want you to realize that… you’re not really a dumb jock. It was all in your head, you’re actually the same Mike Travis you’ve ever been…” I tried to sound commanding, but it came off as weak and weird. “Forget what I said that night, alright? You’re a really good student and you want to keep getting better and better.”

“Same… Mike… Better… and better…” The big guy mumbled, his arms slowly going numb as they dropped to his sides. Now he was entranced.

He remained still for a few more minutes, me still hugging him. I couldn’t see what was happening in his brain, but I would have died to do so. I wanted to know that I was helping him. I wanted him to be my old best friend again.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Mike finally moved, and he hugged me back again. “I dunno why we’re hugging, but it feels kinda warm, bro.”

Huh. It seems to have worked? His face still seemed like he had been crying for quite a while, but he didn’t look as confused as he was when dumbed down. That’s… a good sign, I guess.

“Mikey, can you tell me the square root of sixteen?” Just a little check. Old Mikey knows this one really well…

“Why’d you ask? It’s four, Piney! Did you hit your head or somethin’? Did someone hurt you?” His face seemed surprised at that last possibility, but I decided to shrug everything off and hug him even tighter.

“Don’t worry… You won’t get kicked out of the team, I’ll make sure of that” By ordering the coach to stop being an asshole, of course. I almost forgot he acts like his normal self when I’m not around. I could definitely make him nicer or something.

“Huh? How are you gonna do that?” He asked, the confusion returning to his face, and I realized I made a weird statement while Mike is supposed to not know about my mind control powers.

“Uh… I was thinking you could join my tutoring classes? Gary-ett’s doing pretty fine with them, and so does Brent. Another guy won’t hurt; would you like to join?” I tried to save myself with that little offering.

Mike smiled at me, and hugged tighter. “Sure thing, bro! Pretty sure I’ll be able to get my grades up in no time with your help!” I patted his back a bit, kind of wanting him to let me go because the hug got too tight. He did so, luckily, as his grin grew bigger. “Thanks a lot, Piney. You’re the best friend ever”

[M: Just a little heads up, I do remember that part, and I also remember wanting to kiss you back then. Oh… you’re asleep. Never mind, keep going Mark]

“Don’t worry, big guy. Just happy to help!” I answered, trying to sound confident. “Hey, I was called by a professor and I should get going, but I’ll text you the details of the tutoring thing later, okay?”

“Okay, yeah! Can’t wait!” Mike seemed so cheerful once again that it made me really happy just to see him like this. It’s like when you see a person so happy that it gives you happiness just to know that they’re happy.

We both walked out of the bathroom and went in different directions. So… that’s fixed. I should get a little hold back on how and why I use my powers. They seem to work better when I sound commanding, that could be a good way of controlling them, and I have to make sure that them doing what I say doesn’t interfere with their lives.

Like, life-ruining stuff is out of the question. I don’t think I should decide who does or doesn’t get a nice time.

Hmm… That could be useful, like giving myself a set of rules. Well! Rule #1: Don’t ruin people’s lives with my powers.

That’s a good start! Just gotta be careful with who I control and what I order them to do, and I should be good to go. Better to prevent any more incidents rather than go around fixing all of them. Let’s save Mikey as the example of what not to do to a person!

I resumed my walk to the coach’s office, a little smile on my face now that I fixed my awful mistake. I would have to work hard to help the big guy, but I didn’t care. Now though, back to the matter at hand.

-----

It had been some slow days, but it was finally GAME DAY!

People didn’t seem thrilled, but the fun started after school at night, I think around seven pm or so. I never really been into football games. Mike never really forced me to go, he knew I didn’t care and he would message me afterwards saying if they win or lose, to keep me updated. We didn’t really celebrate it anyway; the team has their own celebrations.

But today, it was different. The rival teams would be arriving a while before, as expected, and that would be the first part of my plan: Getting the rival jocks under.

That meant nothing interesting during the school day, of course. Only thing I can think of was that the football jocks were pretty nervous about it, but they’re always nervous about game days.

If they won, that would be amazing. If they lost, that would mean harsher practices in the future. And we all know the coach would love an excuse to have harsher practices, that man is like Satan.

Luckily, this was a friendly match. So no matter which team wins, there wasn’t really any consequence for losing, besides the practice thing.

Speaking of the coach, I had a chat with him, after I met and… undumbized? That’s not a word… Anyway, after I turned Mike back to normal again.

I told him that his house was going to be the meeting point, once the game is over and if I manage to get the jocks nice and obedient before that, and I also ordered him to not kick Mike out of the team, no matter how low his grades get or anything. Big guy doesn’t deserve that, he loves football!

But yeah, so the only loose end for now was…

I waited in the locker room, as the rival team walked over here. They should come in in a few minutes, and I would be ready to greet them. I couldn’t take too long, because they had to dress up and go out for the game.

If everything went well, I would only be with them for less than 7 minutes and they wouldn’t even notice my presence. Probably. I’m not a ninja yet.

Sitting in one of the benches, I saw them coming in one after the other. At first, they didn’t notice my presence, probably because some of the lockers were in the way and so. But after a few moments passed, all the jocks already in the room, there was a guy pretty surprised to see me there.

“Woah! Who are you, bud?” One of them said, a guy with blonde short hair. He was big, quite surprisingly. I don’t know if he’s muscular but he could compete with Gary any day and I would live to see that. He had a nervous smile, but also seemed on the verge of freaking out if I didn’t answer soon.

“May as well be a weirdo, when did he come in?” Another jock said, causing a bit of laughter around the room.

“Well… uh… I…” Of course, I was freezing up. I sighed, before getting up and standing on top of the bench. I had a good look at the room, and all the jocks inside of it. This was going to be interesting.

“My name is Pine. You want to be polite and say ‘Hi, Pine’ now.” A simple thing, maybe even nitpicky, but there were only two possible outcomes for this.

A loud “Hi, Pine” was droned in the room, and I noticed not even one of them remained silent. Nice, we’ve got the outcome where I don’t get beaten up and kicked out of the locker room by total strangers.

“Great, off to a good start! Now, I want all of you to listen very closely to what I’m going to say… you can drop your shirts, while you’re at it.” I ordered, and watched as the eleven guys in the room started lazily taking off their t-shirts, quite quickly.

Some of them were nice and muscular, others seemed to have little bellies, which was really cute. I just realized I’m so used to watching big and strong jocks, this was a nice change of style for a bit.

“So. Listen very carefully now to what I have to say. After the game, you guys are going to return here and wait for me for a little surprise chat. And while we’re at it, get your heads around the idea that you are going to start doing everything I say. Do you understand?”

This seemed quite direct and straightforward. I was worried I would need a slow or kind of weird chat to have them under and obedient, but so far it seemed quite right.

The jocks droned altogether with a robotic “We understand…”

“Great, that’s awesome.” I said, getting down from the bench. “I’ll let you dress up for the game in a bit. Just another thing…” This was going to be cheesy and weird as fuck, but here I go… “I’m your master now, and I want you guys to accept that fact by saying ‘Yes, master Pine’.”

Now that I had a few of them closer, I could see how they had the usual glassy stare and blank face. I loved this.

And to seal the deal…

“Yes, master Pine” I wanted to throw a punch to the air and celebrate, but better keep the composure, I had to repeat this with my own team now and I didn’t know if I would be lucky this time.

“Okay, now I’ll head out, and see you after the game! You’re going to want to talk with the local team in their locker room after the whole thing is over!” I said, really happy with how the first stage of the plan was going. That last order seemed a bit clunky, but they mumbled a quick affirmation, and that was all I needed.

As I headed out, I saw the blond guy that first noticed me in the room. Now that he had his shirt off, I could notice that he was pretty built. I decided to give him a bit more of attention, since he was the first one to reach out to me.

“You are going to be a very… very good boy, isn’t that right?” A pretty dumb smile formed on the guy’s face, as he nodded like an idiot. His glazed eyes gave him the perfect touch; he seemed deeply mindfucked!

“Yeaaah. Gonna be a veeeery good booy…” I noticed a little bit of saliva dripping from his mouth. Hey, I’m quite liking this guy. He’s got the spirit!

Looking around, the other guys seemed pretty zoned out too, but were slowly coming out of it and grabbing their bags. Time for me to head out!

“See you in a while” I patted the blond guy’s pec and walked out. I should ask for his name later, but he’s just a visitor so I shouldn’t really focus much energy on enslaving him. Not sure when I’ll have another chance to have these guys around.

As I looked around, wondering where the local team was, I bumped with Mike. Again. “Ow. We gotta stop finding each other like this, bro!” The big guy laughed, already in his football uniform. The armor underneath the jersey made his shoulders look even bigger than they were.

“It’s… okay. I see you’re ready for the game?” I asked, kind of surprised he was all dressed up already. I grabbed my phone and noticed it was… almost seven?! I guess I didn’t really have as much time as I would have liked.

“Yeah! Yeah, coach wanted us to get better and start heading out for the field. I thought about going to the other locker room and wishing the other guys good luck. Y’know, to try and be friendly about the fact that we’re going to kick their asses.” He finished with a proud smile. Funny, seems like he’s being a bit cockier than usual. “But I wasn’t really going to tell them that last part, only the good luck thing…” Aaaand that’s the Mikey I know!

“Maybe we should get going to the field, to avoid being late and having the coach scold you for not being there when the game starts?” Just wanting to play it safe, if he got engaged in a chat in the locker room, coach would become furious.

“Yeah… You’re probably right.” He mumbled, before he motioned me to follow him with his head. I did so, I had to go to the field anyway. Not much sense sticking around the rival team for now, just had to wait until the game is over.

“By the way, what were you doing over there? Wanted to jinx them so they would have bad luck or something?” Man, he must be really nervous about this game if he keeps thinking about ‘luck’ and all.

“Nope. I was just… looking for Gary, he told me he would be around there and I was afraid he may pull a prank on the other team.” I lied. I can’t just tell Mike ‘I was in the locker room declaring myself as their new master’, since I wanted to keep him out of this mind control thing. (Also because it sounds awfully weird).

“Yeah, no. He was in the locker room too. He may still be there, actually. Kinda weird that you want to see him but not gonna judge and all that, bro.” Mike shrugged, before wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close for a weird not-hug. “Someone has aaaaa… Actually no, that would be dumb.”

“A what? What were you going to say?” I was curious! I kinda had an idea, but I still wanted to know!

“Nothing! Nothing! Now you’ll never know, mwahaha!” Darn, and I couldn’t force the answer out of him with my powers. Not that it really matters, but my curiosity will be itching now whenever I remember this chat.

“You’re a jerk.”

“But the best jerk you’ve ever known. Riiiiight, Piney?” He pulled me even closer now, turning the thing into an uncomfortable hug now by how close we were.

“Yeaaaaah, gimme some space!” I said, trying to get him off me. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and I think he noticed that because he kept smiling.

“You’re just lucky we’re about to reach the field! Otherwise, you would never escape my big hug!” He moved his hands in front of me, before giving a light pat on my back. “Wish me luck? Pretty please?”

“Good luck, big guy. Although you don’t really need it.” I wanted to encourage him for a bit, but actually… “In fact, when the game starts, you will get super focused and play like a pro, giving out your best while also enjoying the game. Understood?” There, some nice orders! I think that’s the first time I didn’t order someone to do something for me.

The glassy stare appeared in his face, but it faded quickly. “Thanks for the nice words, bro! See you in a while!” Mike finished, and ran back into the locker room, then out to the field.

I entered the locker room, wondering if anyone was actually still in there. Not a single soul. Okay, I should start getting ready for phase two.

----

Author’s note:

Okaaaay, this was supposed to be the last chapter, but it ended up being too long so I divided it in two parts.

I’m quite proud on the rival team’s scene. It felt kinda... empty before, but I’m glad I managed to expand on that bit. Definitely one of the highlights of this chapter :p

Also, chapter 6 is available in my Patreon. Feels weird writing that again after so long, huh. 

For the newcomers, don’t worry. It’s just an early access/support thing. It will go public on here and GSS next week or so :3.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks for reading!

#PinesFootballJocks #PinesJocks #hypnotized #gay hypnosis #straight to gay #brainwashing #brainwash #brainwashed #mind control

[platypanthewriter]

April Showers

Harringrove April Prompt 02:  April Showers!  Max drags Steve back to the Byers' after the fight, to make sure Billy didn't die on the Byers' floor, and they get some things talked out.  LAST PROMPT, GUYS! I'M DONE! 30 days! XD

It was something Susan had always said—April showers bring May flowers.  She said it when they visited Max’s grandma, and Max’s bigger, stronger cousins dogpiled her and ripped her hair out in chunks.  They apologized—insincerely, and Max accepted just as insincerely, already planning her revenge—and Max’s mom hugged her tightly, shaking with relief, and said “See?  You have to be patient, Max.  Sometimes things can be tough, but—”

“Then you shower vengeance upon them,” Max gritted out, narrowing her eyes at the beefiest cousin, because if she couldn’t be the strongest, she could definitely be the craziest.

“Maxine,” Susan groaned.

 Susan said it when her own mother looked at the dinner Susan had made, and said “...well, I suppose you did your best, dear.”

“The hell does that mean,” Max asked, slamming her hand on the table, and she got sent to her room.  

“It’s fine,” Susan said later, wringing her hands.  “The garlic bread was a little burned, and I’m not sure those tomatoes were ripe—”

“She can eat dog food next time you make the whole goddamn dinner,” Max told her, crossing her arms, and Susan smothered a laugh.

“Come on,” she said softly.  “Sometimes being in a family means you have to weather a few storms.  Don’t be mean to your grandma.  She loves you.”

“Does she?” Max asked flatly, and Susan reminded her of the awful Precious Moments figurines she’d gotten for Christmas.  “If those are my May flowers, they were not worth the crap,” Max told her, and Susan flinched.

 Susan said it again, shakily, when Neil brought her actual flowers, the day after he hit Billy into her newly-planted flower beds.  Billy had stormed in, leaving muddy footprints all down the hall, and at dinner his shoulder and jaw were scraped up from the metal thing Susan had put in to keep the grass from growing into her bulbs.

“Maybe you should be nice to him tomorrow,” Max heard her mother whispering to Neil, later.  “Take him somewhere.”

“Maybe to the dog pound,” Neil said, laughing, and Susan winced.  

“That ‘April showers’ thing is talking about actual rain, Mom,” Max said later, and “What the hell kind of flowers could even be worth this,” and “I don’t think Neil’s showers are the kind flowers survive, Mom, he’s more like the kind that causes landslides, and floods the garage.”

Susan hunched her shoulders a little, and lowered her eyes, the way she always did when somebody was mad, so Max stalked back to her room.  Billy was sprawled on her floor, reading her Beverly Cleary books.

Billy hid in Max’s room a lot that summer, because Neil didn’t think to look for him there.  He’d knock and immediately slide through her door, or run around and stand under her window with a bribe—some cookies, or a cold bottle of soda, or the next issue of The Amazing Spider-Man.  

He’d been fun, then, twitchy and awkward, but he’d burst into giggles when she commented on her mom and his dad.  They snuck out and went skateboarding, even, and ate cheetos as they read Billy’s comics, kicking their legs in the air—until Neil threw the door open one day, and drug Billy out by the upper arm.

Max didn’t know what he’d said to her mom, but Billy wasn’t allowed in her room anymore.  She couldn’t even shut the door before Neil or her mom would throw it open, and she was half tempted to just be naked the next time, and see how they liked that.  

Billy looked away from her, after that summer.  When she finally grabbed him--two months in to the silent treatment--he snarled, watching behind her, and twisted away.  She tried to follow him into his room, but he called her a bitch, and slammed the door right in her face, almost on her hand.

 The night after she drugged Billy with the syringe for Will, she grabbed Steve Harrington, and hauled him back to the Byers’.  

“You want a ride back to your car, right,” she’d hissed at him, and Steve blinked blearily at her, staggering a little.

“...I guess,” he mumbled, as she shoved him in the passenger seat.  

 Billy was lying a little more curled up than he had been, and she ran around to get a look at him, then sat down almost against her will once she could see him glowering hazily at her feet.  “Billy,” she whispered, sighing, and leaning back on one arm to rub her face.  She was so tired her arms shook, the adrenaline finally starting to clear her system from fighting the monsters of Hawkins.  

Steve lingered by the door, frowning down at them, and Max squinted at him, half wondering whether she should try and get her absolutely loaded brother in the car by herself, or whether she should try and bribe Steve into helping, somehow.  Or blackmail him.

There were some things Mike had seen that might come in handy, she thought, considering.  “I know about the time you got dumped by two girls on the same night,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“...what,” said Steve, who was pressing gently at his skull, where Billy’s knuckles had hit.  

“I’ll tell the next person you date,” Max said, setting her jaw, and trying to look like she could kill him with a shoelace.

“...what’s happening?” Steve asked, frowning at her.  “...what?”

Just then, Max realized she was so tired she’d threatened him without telling him what she wanted, yet.  “You gotta help me get this dumbass in the car,” she said, sighing.  “Or—or I’ll tell everybody I know you, um, you wet the bed.”

“...what,” Steve said again, and Max tried to be patient, since she’d seen how many times he’d been hit in the heat that night.

“...Max,” Billy mumbled.  “Fucking...bitch.”  He kind of half-rolled onto his back again, rolling his face away from her, and she slid a foot out and kicked his hand.

“Shut up, you,” she growled.  “I come running back here to see if you got your face eaten—”

“Whadda you care,” he whispered, laughing.  “You dun give a shit.  You wanted...brother like him,” Billy said, watching Steve, and Steve snorted a laugh.  “How come you’re never on my side,” Billy whispered, and Max kicked his limp hand again, sort of, her legs limp with exhaustion.

“Wow,” Steve sighed.

“Fuck you, the hell are you talking about,” Max hissed.  “You tried to kill him.”

“You knew,” Billy mumbled.  “Fucking...knew I’d get my ass kicked.  An’ you left the house,” he said, sighing, and trying to roll away, but he couldn’t even shift his body that much.  His hands twitched, and he groaned, closing his eyes.

“...I’ll help you get him in the car,” Steve said, and Billy sneered, laughing.

“Oh, ’s so nice, isn’ he?  Fucking...King Harrington.”

“You’re a piece of work, man,” Steve said, grimacing, but he helped her get Billy’s dead weight off Joyce Byers’ floor and down the steps to the cars.  “Want me to drive him home?  You get pulled over driving with him in the car…”

Max and Billy flinched at that.  “Fuck,” Billy panted, his face getting red and veiny as his head and arms dangled over Harrington’s back.  

“Oh, oh shit,” Max said, realizing she could hardly drive Billy home to a waiting Neil, when he was acting like he’d been doing drugs.  “We can’t take him home.  We can’t.  His dad’ll end him.”

“Like you give a shit,” Billy muttered.

“Jesus.  Let’s, um,” Steve thought, walking over to his car.  “You’re not bringing this jackass to my house, so don’t even—”

For a brief second, Max was so strongly homesick for the skatepark by their house in California she had to shut her eyes, imagining taking Billy somewhere she knew to sober up, somewhere with people who had nothing going on but a few skateboard tricks.  She groaned into her hands.

“Whoa, whoa,” Steve said, shifting Billy, who grunted.  “Look, wait, there’s—we’ll take him to the playground, okay.  When he’s sobered up some, he can drive you home.”

“What,” Max said, blinking as she imagined Billy going down slides.

“Just somewhere to sit that’s not Mrs. Byers’ floor,” Steve said, grimacing.

“...why’re you doing this,” Billy asked, possibly to both of them, and Steve groaned.

“No fucking clue.”

“Why’re you such a fucking asshole dipshit?” Max asked, rhetorically.

“Why d’you hate me so much,” Billy asked, as Steve struggled to hold him up and get the car door open, muttering, “Oh, I can think of a few reasons.”

“I don’t hate you!” Max shouted.  “I don’t!  Why the hell did you—why’d you try to beat up my friends—what the hell is wrong with you!”  

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Billy growled back, but he sounded tired.  “You’ve fucking...had it in for me for years.  Little...bitch.  Fuck...fuckface.”

“Shut up, dickhead,” Steve sighed, levering Billy into the passenger seat of his car.  He slammed the door, and patted Max’s shoulder.  “Follow me, I’ll take you to the playground.”

She nodded, glaring at Billy through the window, and wondering what the hell.

 By the time she pulled up to the playground, craning to see in the low seat of the Camaro, Steve was hauling Billy back out of the car.  “Let’s get you on the swing,” he was saying.  “Get your feet moving a little, maybe.”

“Oh look, she’s here,” Billy said, baring his teeth.  “Don’t you wanna take me home, Maxine?  Tell my dad about something I actually did, for once.”

“The hell are you even talking about?” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes at Max, but Billy was glaring at her, his eyes still red and swollen from the mess he was, fighting Steve.  

“You’ll find out,” Billy laughed.  “Once she’s pissed and she tells everybody you touched her.  Fuck you, Maxine Mayfield,” he hissed at her, his jaw working, and Steve stopped, staring from Billy’s drooping head to Max’s face.

“Wait, what,” he breathed, leaning warily away from Billy, as Max’s mouth dropped open in fury.

“I never said that shit, what the hell,” she growled.  “I don’t lie.  I’m not a liar.”

“I never did,” Billy yelled back at her, staggering as Steve held on to him.  “I never—I never would’ve—I thought we were friends, you little shithead, you fucking—”

“I never said you did!” she yelled back, automatically, then remembered Neil dragging Billy out of her room.  Her mom had stopped being nice to Billy, after that, she realized—she’d noticed, but she hadn’t thought about when.  “...Billy, I never said that,” she whispered, watching his set face.  “I didn’t, I—I never would have said that.”

“You told him,” Billy shot back, growling and waving an arm at her, so Steve nearly dropped him.  Steve muttered profanity to himself as he hauled Billy along into the playground, and a few more feet, to the swings.  “You coulda said one goddamn thing to me, I thought you were okay with me coming around, I—you fucking told him I was scary, you—you know how he was kicking my ass—he fucking...” Billy bit his lips together, breathing unsteadily.  “Why the fuck would you tell him something like that—”

“I never did!” she shouted over him.  “I never...I missed you too, you fucking asshole, I thought...I don’t know what I thought,” she trailed off with a sigh, realizing Billy was glaring at her even harder.  

“...you didn’t tell my dad...to make me fuck off?” Billy said slowly.  

“I missed you,” Max told him, sitting on the next swing, while Steve stood behind Billy, balancing him so he didn’t faceplant in the gravel.  “Dunno why, but I did.”

“...he said I scared you,” Billy breathed.  “You didn’t want to be in the same house with me—”

“I never fucking said that,” Max growled, spinning on the swing to kick his leg.  “You moron, why would you…” she let her sentence trail off as she looked at him, and he was wiping his face, and sniffling.  “...the hell would you think I’d lie to get you to stay away?” she asked, her own face reddening as Billy pressed his fist over his mouth to muffle his wet sniffles.  Max’s own eyes stung and blurred.  “Didn’t want you going anywhere, dickhead,” she whispered hoarsely, “—you had the back-issues of X-Men.”

“Holy shit,” Billy laughed like he hadn’t since they were kids, looking at her sidelong.  “Thought you wanted me dead.”

“...’m sorry I had to sneak out,” she muttered.  “I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble.”

“Fuck,” Billy breathed, “—I went nuts at the Byers’.”  

“You went batshit fucking insane,” Max said dryly, and Billy hunched his shoulders, glancing back over his shoulder.

Harrington stepped back, one hand out to catch him.  Billy clenched his hands on the chains for the swing.  “I got it,” he muttered.  “I won’t fall.”

Harrington nodded, and dropped into the swing on the other side of Billy.  “Nice little family therapy session,” he said dryly, and Max winced with Billy, remembering how Steve’s head must be pounding, and how he’d slurred his words, stumbling around because of Billy’s fists.  

“Sorry,” Billy grated out, and Steve snorted a laugh.

Max started explaining why she had to sneak out, stumbling over herself in her urgency, and Steve backed her up, just swaying on the swing tiredly, and kicking at the gravel.

“Fuck,” Billy started saying, as Steve described what had happened at the Byers’ the year before, and Max talked over him about the junkyard, and Billy’s eyes widened.  “Fuck,” he said again, “...shit, you...saved her,” he mumbled, like his brain was stuck.  “Holy shit.”  

It was getting cold, late at night in the playground, but Max didn’t want to leave, so she just watched Steve spin around the seat of his swing, slowly tightening and tightening the twisted chains until he let go in a whirl.  “Fuck.  Sorry,” Billy kept saying, wiping his eyes.

 For the first time, Max kind of...understood, what her mother meant, about the awful weather in April before flowers in May, because it wasn’t like Neil’s fucking raincloud was worthwhile, suddenly, but Billy was smirking at her again like a weight was off his shoulders.  He was kicking at the gravel just like Steve, two little kids, and he grinned whenever he thought she wasn’t looking.  

It was good to watch him bloom.

Here are my other Harringrove April prompts--DONE! 

#Harringrove #Harringrove April #Susan has a shitty past too #She tries to teach Max it's normal #Max isn't having it #Max and Billy friendship

[thiswasinevitableid]

Gift (Indruck)

A second fill for @crepuscularlives

16. we didn’t read the invitation that said this party was formal so we’re in our ugly christmas sweaters. SFW

Duck’s fully prepared for Aubrey, and maybe even Mama, to tease him for his Newton family christmas sweater. When he gets to the Lodge to find everyone dressed swanky, he thinks it’s some sort of elaborate prank. He decides to ask Barclay, since he tends to be less invested in pranks than the others. 

“Uhhh” Barclay points to a stray invite, “it said formal, see? We thought a change of pace would be fun.”

“Fuck. I just came straight from a family thing, didn’t think it’d matter.”

Barclay pats his shoulder with a warm smile, “Don’t worry about it, man, it’s not like anyone’s gonna toss you out for it.”

Duck grumbles something about not wanting to stick out as he turns, and spies an even uglier sweater across the room. It’s bright green and fire-engine red with, covered in old-school colored bulb christmas lights, blinking like fireflies. 

Somehow, it suits Indrid perfectly.

The Sylph waves when we spots Duck, coming over to join him by the drinks table. 

“Hello Duck, I’m glad this is the future where you’re here.” He ladles himself a mug from one of the two crockpots of eggnog. 

“Howdy, ‘Drid. Glad I ain’t the only one who went for the ugly sweater vibe.”

Indrid cocks his head, “This is the nicest thing I own.”

Duck groans, reaches up to hide behind a hat that isn’t there.

Indrids smile widens, “I’m joking. It was a, ah, what do always call it...ah yes, a goof.”

He laughs, relieved, “Jesus, you got me good.”

“It’s payback for the time you convinced me that squirrels were carnivorous.” 

Duck snickers at the memory of Indrid, in his moth form in the woods, eyeing the squirrels warily. 

He joins Aubrey, Thacker, and Dani by the fire, and Indrid wanders over to oin them, taking a seat next to Duck when the human scoots over to offer him it. Thacker talks about the library and the regrowing cities, and Indrid’s face turns wistful. Duck suspects only he can see it, Indrid’s glasses showing enough of his eyes from the side to make emotions clearer. 

(Indrid always sits across from people. The last few times they’ve met up, he sits next to Duck).

In spite of only some gentle ribbing about his clothes, he keeps picking at the sleeve of the sweater. It’s a little itchy, and he could have worn that nice green shirt with the pine tree tie that he likes. And every time he catches a glimpse of himself in a window, he’s back in space, watching an evil hivemind recreate it’s pattern on a mimic of his sister. 

“Is it bothering you a lot?” Indrid murmurs.

“N-no, uh, I, uh, just, fuck, it’s nothin,” He stops talking, flees Indrid’s red stare to refill his cider. He pauses to talk with Kirby and Ned, is looking around the room for a new spot to sit (and for Indrid), only for a tan hand to wave him into a hallway. 

“Here, try this.” Indrid ties a discarded gift ribbon around his wrist, and he’s no longer looking down at the wool sweater and jeans. He’s in a deep gray suit, with a green shirt and a silver tie. 

“Holy shit. Wait, do I look-”

“-different? No, I left your physical form intact. I can make disguises of different magnitudes. A simple clothing swap is easily done. And I, ah, I did not want you to spend a night with friends lost in frightening memories.”

Duck’s about to thank him when the words sink in. 

“There was a future where you told me. I, ah, you’ve mentioned what you saw at Reconciliation before, but not that detail.”

“Wasn’t scared so much as pissed.” Duck glances at his shoes, now well-shined loafers. 

“Understandable. And useful; the odds were not in your favor, believe me. But well-timed anger can change the course of fate. Just as choosing mercy--even when others urge for violence--can. Punching me also reset fate rather dramatically.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

Indrid’s smile is small, and stunningly fake, “It was for the best. I’m going to get some more nog. Would you like some?”

“Nah, still gotta finish this. But I do wanna try some of that salmon dip.”

“In true bear fashion.” Indrid’s smile turns genuine when Duck snorts and elbows him. 

They talk and mingle with their friends, Indrid making frequent returns to the nog bowl. Duck steps outside for air, comes back and spends a moment watching Indrid by the fire. Stern notices him, steps away from an animated conversation with a ghostly Boyd about art forgery to join him. 

“Quite the dapper costume change.”

“Thanks. ‘Drid did it for me.”

Stern follows Duck’s gaze, then casually sip his wine, “Have you told him yet?”

“Told, uh, told him what?”

“Duck, you spend more time with him than almost anyone else.”

“Half my friends live on another planet now.”

“And every time you look at him, your smile changes. His does too. According to Barclay, he talks about you like you’re the most fascinating thing on earth. Right, love?” He kisses Barclay’s cheek as the cook joins them.

“Yep.”

There’s a crash as Indrid loses his balance and knocks over a lamp, which Aubrey freezes mid-air.

“Shit, he’s hammered.” Barclay sounds surprised. 

“How much rum did you put in the nog?” Duck doesn’t remember the sip he had from Indrid’s cup tasting that strong. 

“I made two batches, one with booze and one without. Indrid was drinking the non-spiked one earlier. Wonder when he switched.”

“About the time Duck changed clothes.”

“...How did you not catch us durin the Pine Guard days again?”

Stern smiles, “Barclay can be very distracting when he wants to be. And none of you have ever asked exactly how much I worked out.”

He has a point. As does Barclay when he points out that Indrid should have someone take him home after the party.

When Duck offers him a ride, Indrid chirps excitedly, bonks his forehead on the roof of the car, and climbs in. By the time they get back to the ‘Bago, Duck knows he can’t just leave Indrid here.

“You’re staying?” Indrid bounces on the bed as Duck turns on the space heaters. 

“Just ‘til you sober up. I’ll stay out in the main cab so you can sleep.”

Indrid lets out a chirr that intensifies when Duck slips the ribbon from his wrist. It almost sounds perturbed. 

“I mean, uh, I can go if you really need me to.”

Indrid shakes his head, barely managing to get his shoes off before burrowing under to covers, “Please stay as long as you want.” 

Duck nods, excuses himself to use the bathroom, and comes back to Indrid chirp-snoring into the pillows. He’s such a cute, weird man. Duck will just sit down a second to make sure he doesn’t wake up and need something. 

The one small seat is taken up by a binder, which opens when Duck lifts it. Instead of the expected paper avalanche, he finds drawings, each in their own plastic slip. He flips through it as he settles in the chair. Interspersed with the drawings are papers labeled in one or two two words of Sylph, and Duck reverse engineers their likely meanings from the images that follow them. The section with all the plants and animals must be “nature,” the one with parties and state fairs “events.” There’s even a section that’s all elements of winter holidays; the Rockefeller tree with decorations that suggest the 1930s, a menorah in a window, candles on the table of a house that’s seen better days.  Towards the back is a section that has to be “friends.” There are one or two people who appear in images with Indrid. Including the kind that make Duck quickly turn the page. The further he gets in that section, the more familiar faces he sees; Barclay, Aubrey, Jake, Ned. 

He sees himself, returning from saving the world, battered but alive. 

“The odds were not good”

Tucked at the very back of the section, between the final empty pages and the binder, is a folded paper. Curious, Duck opens it. 

It’s him. With Indrid. They’re on Indrid’s tiny bed, kissing.

God that looks nice. 

Startled by his own thoughts, he tucks the picture back into the binder and sets the whole thing on the floor. Decides one of the paperbacks strewn on the floor is a better way to occupy himself then accidentally finding more personal images. 

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

The world is ending, everything is ripping away into the sky, everything he’s fought for is gone. He failed. He didn’t want a destiny, and he’s failed the fucking thing anyway and it’s all gone and there’s no future for him now but to be torn into ash-

“Duck, Duck wake up” 

He jolts, whams his head into the wall of the very intact Winnebago at the edge of the still standing Monongahela while a very alive, now-sober Indrid leans over him. 

“Owfuck.”

“Oh, oh no, I’m sorry, you were very clearly having a nightmare and I figured you’d like it to stop.”

“Yeah” He rubs his head, “yeah I did. Thanks. Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Given that in many futures our positions were reversed, I don’t have a lot of room to complain about someone shouting in their sleep.” Indrid sits down on the floor next to the chair, stays silent as Duck coaxes his breathing to even out. A hand hesitates in the air, then touches his arm, rubbing it reassuringly. 

No one else saw it. Not even Minerva or Leo, the only people who could understand the horror of seeing a thing unfold with scant chances of stopping it. 

Indrid’s hand brush lightly over his own before returning to his arm. 

No, not the only people. 

“Indrid, can I ask you somethin?”

“Of course.”

“The day we let The Quell through and saved the worlds did you, uh, did you see what woulda happened if Aubrey hadn’t blown the gate apart?”

“Yes.” The reply is quiet.

“Do you, uh, still see it sometimes?”

“Now and then, but I have far more bad timelines in my mind, and more failures in my past, for my nightmares to draw upon than you do. That is half the reason I drank so much tonight. Around the time of the winter solstice, my nightmares increase in frequency and intensity, Sylvain only knows why. Sometimes substances dull that.”

“Oh, ‘Drid.” Duck turns in the chair. Indrid’s gaze stays straight ahead, but his fingers shred a nearby scrap of paper. 

“The irony is, I love this time of year on Earth, in spite of the chill. I love the winter holidays, the gathering of warmth and light to hold one over until the spring returns. But my enjoyment of it is dampened by the workings of my powers and mind.”

“Fuck, guess I oughta count myself lucky I only got a few bad visions to remember.” The joke falls flat, and Indrid glances at him. 

“That vision is nothing to laugh at. I’m glad you had it all the same, glad you triumphed and survived.”

“Woulda really sucked to accept my destiny only to fail at the last fuckin second.”

He shuts his mouth to stop the next thought from escaping; Indrid doesn’t need to know that he sometimes fears that everything he’s done and wants to do now that fate is no longer hanging a talking sword over his head will somehow be hollow.

“You were so much more than your destiny, Duck Newton. You still are.” 

The sincerity, half-obscured in shadow and red lens, is too much. He doesn’t know what to say, or if he should say anything at all. 

“Guess, uh, guess you likin the holidays explains that section in the binder.”

“Yes. Wait. Did, ah, did you look through the whole thing?” Fear slips into his voice. 

“Uhhuh.”

“Even the, ah, the last page?”

“Yep. Some real beautiful drawin’s in there. Some mighty interestin ones too.”

Indrid nervously taps his fingers together, “Since you are about to ask, that future took place shortly after the cottonwood. You, you came by to apologize for punching me and to tell me you were glad I was alright and, and ask me to stay in Kepler and when I asked why, you did that. Just one little kiss. That’s as far as I got before the timelines changed. It’s, it’s alright, of course, that’s how timelines work, and you did eventually apologize.”

He did, two or three separate times, and each time Indrid brushed it off, insisting it was what needed to be done.

Duck sinks to the floor, turns on his knees to bring them face to face. 

“What are you-” Indrid stiffens as Duck gingerly pushes up his glasses. He’s never seen Indrid’s face like this, uncovered but still human, and it takes all the air from his lungs.

“Which eye did I hit?”

Indrid touches the right side of his face. Duck tips forward, balancing his fingers on Indrids thighs, and kisses the corner of his right eye.

“There. Now it’s a real apology.” He whispers in Indrid’s ear, close enough that faint, hopeful chirps reach him. He moves a few inches down and over, lips the barest strip of air away from Indrid’s own. 

“You, you don’t have to. Just because something appears in a future doesn’t mean it’s fated to happen.”

“What if I want it to happen?”

Indrid surges forward, cupping Duck’s face. His kisses re feather-light and sweeter than nectar, and Duck wants to drink them down, knows that after this taste he’ll never be full. 

“Duck I, h, I want” Indrid clings to him, his words turning to chirps nd clicks, as he’s so overwhelmed by a little kissing.

“Want me to keep, uh, ‘apologizin?”

“So very much.”

“Then take me to bed, darlin.”

The instant they hit the bed Indrid pulls Duck atop him, fingers fawning over his body as he kisses him over and over. When they stop to catch their breath, Duck remembers something,

“‘Drid, what was the other half of the reason you got drunk?”

“A problem of my own making. I did not foresee just how you would look in your suit, and I was trying to avoid an, ah, embarrassing bodily response. Alcohol helps my kind of Sylph in that regard.”

Duck chuckles, nips Indrid’s lower lip, “want me to put it back on?”

“Not just yet.”

“Want me to kiss you ‘til we fall asleep?”

“More than I’ve wanted anything for Christmas in a long time.”

Duck kisses him, keeps teasing their lips together as he murmurs, “then consider me your resent, darlin.”

#indrid cold/duck newton #indruck #winter fills #taz amnesty

[adventuresloane]

Chicken Soup for the Undead Soul

Summary: "'Alright, I'm here to make chicken soup and accidentally scorch your petunias,' she said, 'and I've already...well, sorry about that.'"

This is...bonding? Kravitz thinks this is bonding. (Taako gets sick and Lup and Kravitz cook for him idk what else you need to know.)

Rating: T (for safety)

Relationships: Kravitz & Lup, Kravitz/Taako

((Yes it’s another of my ask meme fics I polished up and put on AO3 u gotta deal))

Read on AO3

As was her wont, Lup called, "Anyone home," didn't wait for a response, and then phased into the house through the two inches of wood. Kravitz stopped, then set the lamp he was holding back into the box of baby blue packing peanuts. He waited for the smell of burning living room curtain to reach his nose. Luckily, it didn't, this time.

She floated in the foyer and looked around in a confident, surveying manner, skeletal hands on her hypothetical hips, as though he weren't standing right in front of her. "Alright, I'm here to make chicken soup and accidentally scorch your petunias," she said, "and I've already...well, sorry about that."

Those had been purchased and planted hardly four days prior, but Kravitz didn't remark on that. "Lup. You don't know how glad I am you're here."

She gave a congenial little shrug, causing the flames that rose from her shoulders to shiver upwards before falling again. "Well, hope I didn't keep you waiting. How's Taako?" The question came out quickly. It was particularly relevant today, but it was also one of the first things she asked every time she came in. "That doofus had better be sleeping."

"He's trying upstairs, I think. Not that I would get my hopes up."

"'Trying?'"

"Yes." Kravitz waited. The black, featureless face inside her red hood stayed fixed on him, and she did not carry on the conversation as he'd hoped she would. It seemed that she wanted more from him. "Well...well, I think it's hard for him. He hasn't slept once in the time that I've known him, or in the past decade at all, as far as he's told me. I'm sure he's out of practice if all he does is Trance."

"Oh! Right, right," she said. There was a beat, and then it passed. In the same tone that she'd had when she'd first floated in, she continued, "Well, whatever. He's lucky he's capable of lying in a bed at all."

"Ha, yes," Kravitz said, right before he said nothing. For a few moments that felt too long and vaguely sweaty to him, he stared at Lup, and presumably she stared back, in spite of the fact that he couldn't tell where her eyes were. Her spectral form bobbed slightly up and down in the air, and flames with dark red centers licked off the char-black bones of her hands, and suddenly he was rather glad she always knocked rather than, say, floating up through the floor unannounced when she felt like it. And now the silence was decidedly awkward. He pushed aside one of several unopened cardboard boxes with his foot. "Um, it's his own fault, really. Taako's been spending all his time trying to unpack and organize the house at the same time he's getting things organized to start his school. It's no wonder he's fallen ill--"

"Language." He turned to face her when she piped up. "Just say 'got sick.' No one says 'fall ill' anymore."

He couldn't quite hold back his grimace.

"Hey, you were the one who asked me to correct you when you talked like an old geezer."

This was true. It was also true, he was sure, that she enjoyed chastising him for a change, when normally he was the one telling her what to do during reaper training. He moved on. "Anyway, like I said, I'm glad I have you here to help now."

"Everything going alright so far."

"Yes. Well, I think so. I pre-salted the chicken, like you said. It's been waiting for five hours."

"That'll do. We can start on the broth. So how about the seasonings I told you to get? Did you pick up the rosemary?"

"Yes."

"And the parsley?"

"Two teaspoons of dried."

"And the oregano?"

He screeched to a stop, balked. There was no way. He had double- and triple-checked the list she had given him. He couldn't have missed anything. Could he have missed anything? He didn't know anything about cooking, but Taako always said something about the balance of flavors, and what if he'd just pulled a playing card out from the middle of the tower--

She laughed. "I'm fucking with you. Lighten up, dude." She attempted to pat him on the shoulder as she floated past him into the kitchen. Her hand passed right through him a couple times, but eventually she hard enough to make contact. Sometimes she spent a lot of time trying to touch corporeal things. Maybe that was how she'd burned the flowers. "Anyway, who's gonna use oregano when you've already got a buttload of rosemary in there? Come on."

But that was what he was here for today, to be her hands. According to her, there was precious little room for error when making this soup if they wanted to do it The Right Way, no leeway for her to accidentally drop in too much celery or pepper. There was precious little room for error, Kravitz reminded himself as he followed her instructions to strip the chicken meat from the bones.

"I bought a few different kinds of noodles, since I wasn't sure what was best," he said. "There's those twisty egg noodles, thin pasta, the flat ones--"

"Flat," Lup answered rather like a patient schoolteacher, "and don't break them up when you put them in the soup. He'll slurp them up one-by-one when no one's watching, but he'll never admit that."

"Right." He wanted to say, I knew that. He didn't exactly know, not from experience, and yet it was the kind of thing he'd expected from Taako. He felt like he didn't have to be told.

"That comes later, though," she said. "The noodles cook separately, and it doesn't take long."

"Oh. Alright."

"We used to make the noodles from scratch back on the ship and save them for rainy days, but store-bought's gonna have to do. Hey, do you have a pepper mill?"

"A what?"

"You know, for grinding up fresh-cracked pepper. Taako likes a lot of it."

Kravitz thought. "I think Taako does, but it might be in storage." He clumsily tried to get his nails under the papery skin of a garlic bulb, trying to peel it off. "Did he tell you he likes it fresh-ground better?"

Lup cocked her head a little. "I don't think he told me, per se. He just...well, he always used to like it that way, at least."

He nodded, stiffly. Then he continued nodding through a litany of other questions and corrections from her, about keeping the skin on the onions when he puts them in and how often he'll need to skim the fat from the top of the broth and how to extract the flavor from the bones and how much anise to add. There was a temptation to remark that he could, in fact, operate a stove. But he would say this for her: for someone who came across as so impulsive sometimes, she was surprisingly fastidious when it came to cooking. She knew everything about this dish. About what Taako liked about it. Given that he didn't feel hunger and as such hadn't done much in the way of cooking for hundreds of years, he had little choice but to listen to her. Although it would be nice if she could stop instructing him long enough for him to try to absorb what he was doing, so that he could remember all these details himself, for the next time Taako got sick.

He was so busy trying to keep up with her that he barely registered it when she abruptly switched to praise. "You're not half-bad, Skele-friend."

"Huh?" he responded, all dignity. "Oh, well, I'm just doing what you tell me. Or trying to."

"Yeah, well, you're doing a good job of it. Especially since you haven't taken orders from anyone less than a goddess for, what, a few centuries?"

"And you haven't made this recipe in quite some time. It's incredible how well you remember it."

She paused. "Taako's the one who always used to make it, actually," she murmured. "I'd be the helper. Unless I was the one who was sick. Then he'd do it himself. I feel like it's about time I returned the favor."

Kravitz couldn't keep from grinning at the thought. "I had a feeling he'd be a caring older brother."

"He's not my older brother. We're twins."

"Who's older, though?"

"Neither, we were born at the same time!"

"So you're the younger one."

She attempted to give him a playful shove. "Of course you'd take his side," she said in an exaggerated grumble. "I suppose you've had siblings?"

"Yes," he said quietly. He returned to stirring and said nothing else. Mercifully, she got the hint. After a moment, she materialized a white wand of sharpened bone into her hand (one of Barry's ulnas that he'd gifted to her, she'd told Kravitz once, which...said something about their relationship, alright). He watched her point it into the broth.

His side-eye must have been more obvious than he'd suspected, because she huffed when she caught sight of him staring. For someone whose face was little more than a black void with an ember-like glow of red at the center, she could give quite the eye-roll. "Relax, Mr. Death Cop. It's healing magic." She stopped for a moment, apparently to judge whether she could push her luck. "Though, you know, necromancy is hardly different from the stuff clerics do every day."

"I'm no great arcanist, Lup. I just take down cultists. And you know that whether or not clerics do it doesn't matter to the Raven Queen. Whether it's Vampiric Touch or Revivify, it's still a corruption of fate."

"Alright, spare me the speech, please. I'm just saying," she said with another shrug. "I am an arcanist, and I can tell you that it's the same kind of magical energy to heal or hurt, just flowing in different directions."

There had been an eon when he had felt that as opposed to simply knowing it, back before he'd had a scythe or a home in the Astral Plane. When he could ease his mother's headaches with a song.

"Shit," she shouted out of nowhere, and simultaneously, blue flames from the gas burners shot up suddenly. Kravitz scrambled for the heat dials. "Shit, wait, I just remembered something."

"What is it? Did we forget something?"

"Doesn't everything he eat taste like Gogurt now?" Her voice began to pitch up a little, grow strained. "What if he can't even taste the soup?"

"It's okay, Lup," he responded before she could go on. "I've asked him about that. He said soup doesn't count for the curse. He'll be able to taste it."

"Oh." She sounded as though she'd let out a sigh of relief, though she lacked lungs. "Okay, I just wasn't sure. Magnus had to tell me that, you know. I wouldn't have even known Taako was cursed otherwise."

Kravitz glanced her way. "Does that bother you?"

"It's not like he has to tell me," she said quickly. Then she hesitated, which, as far as he had learned, was not characteristic. She could be patient, but not hesitant, not unassured. "It's just weird that I...don't already know, I guess. I've just--you'll want a chef's knife for that."

"Which one is--?"

"Curved blade. And it's easier if you don't move the knife back and forth. Just pass the carrot under the blade while you chop." She sighed. "Anyway, I just missed things. A lot."

Kravitz bit his lip. "Well...you still know him like no one else. You realize that, don't you? I feel like I'm playing catch-up with all the rest of you. You all had a hundred years to figure him out. And you in particular had quite a few more."

"You're not doing too bad on that front already, bud." He could have sworn he saw a smile peek out from under the hood. He didn't recall her ever calling him "bud" before. "Not from what Taako's told me, anyway."

He stopped stirring the wooden spoon through the golden fluid for awhile. "I guess it's good you'll be moving in with us before too long, huh? We can bring each other up to speed."

"Listen, this shit's gonna be done before long. Why don't you take it up to him yourself?"

Kravitz looked her way. "You sure? It's your soup. You don't want to come up with me?"

"I'll see him plenty later. I'm sure I will."

Minutes later, he was knocking on the door of Taako's bedroom--their shared bedroom, now, with a new king-sized bed and mattress. There were a few instances of throat-clearing before Kravitz heard a croak of "Come in."

He pushed through the door, steaming bowl in both hands. "Hey, darling, have you slept at all?"

"Can't sleep at the best of times, babe." Taako followed up the answer with a snort. "This cold's some bullshit."

He chuckled. "I told you you'd get sick if you kept working like you've been."

"Can it, Bone-Hands McGee." He sat up and struggled to sniff some air through his stuffed nose. "Hey, is that--?"

"Lup helped." He lifted his shoulders in a way that he hoped would come across as self-effacing, as if the soup in his hands didn't smell like absolute heaven.

"That so?" He wiped his nose with a tissue, though not before Kravitz saw the blush creep into his warm cheeks. He saw that blush a lot, and always just at the moment that the two of them met eyes. Each time was a gift, whether Taako meant to give it to him or not. "Let's give it a whirl then."

Kravitz sat next to him on the bed and watched the whole while as Taako held the bowl under his nose, let the steam waft up into his sinuses, tipped his head back to show his smooth neck and closed his eyes and drank the broth slowly. Then he licked his lips abruptly and said, "Not bad for someone who considers fancy wine to be an entire meal. Hey, get out of my bed of contagion. You're the one who's gonna get sick next."

He chuckled and ran a hand through Taako's already pillow-ruffled hair. "That's the nice thing about being dead already, sweetheart. I can't get sick." To prove the point, he kissed his cheek.

He kept doing it, in fact, as he and Taako sat together and as the soup was slowly consumed. He hummed softly, then sang more so. And a few times, when he touched his lips to his boyfriend's skin, he tried to dredge up the kind of magic that he hadn't hadn't used for centuries, for the majority of his life. Not since he'd been alive. It felt far different from the kind he used to electrocute or grapple a necromantic cultist, and at first it felt like trying to run water through a pipe that hadn't seen a drop in decades. But he felt the warmth of the magic like he felt the vibration of his vocal chords, energy coming from deep inside of him, from nothing. Taako seemed to breathe more easily as the Healing Word took effect.

It was after the bowl had been sitting empty for awhile that Kravitz felt Taako's breathing slow next to him and take on the rhythm not of meditation, but of sleep.

#lup #kravitz #taz lup #taz kravitz #lup taaco #taako #taz taako #taako taaco #taz #the adventure zone #taz balance #the zone cast #fan fiction #taz fanfic #taz fan fiction #domestic fluff #fluff #food cw

[theemperorsfeather]

This is a must-read, in its entirety, for anyone concerned about “desertification,” for anyone who’s ever referred to deserts, grasslands, prairies, etc., as “empty” space, and, for anyone in favor of “reforesting” these lands or advocating covering them with enormous solar farms, you - you gotta read it at least twice, maybe even read the book the article’s author wrote.

Our most common conception of deserts and arid lands is that they are ruined wastelands with little value, aberrations that need to be repaired and improved. Up to 70 percent of global arid and semiarid lands are frequently claimed to be suffering from varying degrees of ‘desertification’1 — despite the term having no agreed-upon definition or standardized measure. This problematic notion of the drylands — which constitute about 40 percent of the earth’s landmass — informs both knowledge about, and policies in, desert regions.

Academic research, however, has shown for more than 25 years that estimates of desertification have been significantly exaggerated and that most of the world’s drylands are not being invaded by spreading deserts caused by deforestation, burning, and overgrazing, as is often claimed. That hasn’t stopped the misconception from fueling a multimillion-dollar global anti-desertification campaign driven by perceptions of a looming crisis.

...

The most significant environmental problems that have resulted from the drive to repair drylands and to extract value include salinization from overirrigation, inappropriate “reforestation,” the extension of agriculture into marginal lands, and failed range “improvement.” Although these forms of dryland degradation became problems early in the colonial period, they all persist and continue to pose significant problems today. Of the relatively few contemporary cases of serious dryland degradation, the vast majority are found in places with strong political economic forces shaping development, such as capitalist expansion, authoritarian rule, and the developmentalist state.3 These cases are also directly tied to the devaluing and suppression of indigenous production systems and the local knowledge of dryland populations, often based on the assumption that they have ruined the land.

In a very real sense, our old fear of desertification has caused dryland degradation where, for all intents and purposes, none existed before. Some scholars have dubbed this “policy-induced desertification.”

...

Although no precise, “universally accepted definition of the term ‘desert’ exists,” most scholars agree that deserts are the arid and hyperarid regions of the planet, about 20 percent of the globe, that typically receive less than 200 millimeters of average annual rainfall.  The semiarid zones, 20 to 25 percent of the land surface, typically receive between 200 and 500 millimeters of average annual precipitation. Annual rainfall averages in these environments, however, are often meaningless given the great spatial, interannual, and intra-annual variability of rainfall. Together, the hyperarid, arid, and semiarid zones are frequently called the drylands. Constituting an estimated 35 to 50 percent of the planet, and home to about 38 percent of the world’s people, the drylands are concentrated in Africa and Asia, Australia, the western United States, Mexico, and the west coast of Latin America.

The range of different environments in these drylands is great, ranging from stony pavements, salt flats, sand seas, desert crusts, and varnishes, to savannahs, grasslands, shrublands, and steppes. The majority of the drylands contain plants (and animals) well adapted to heat, aridity, and drought. Many perennial plants like trees and shrubs have various adaptations, such as losing leaves in the hottest, driest season and very long roots to reach deep groundwater, that allow them to survive and even thrive. Most annual plants like many grasses, herbs, and flowers survive by existing for a majority of their lives as seeds lying dormant in the soil awaiting the next rain. This below-ground biomass, which also includes bulbs, is invisible to the casual observer for the great majority of the time except following adequate rainfall events which may be years apart. Furthermore, many plants, a majority in Mediterranean-like climates, are well adapted to fire and grazing, with some being so dependent that they will actually die if they are not grazed or burned regularly.

... Determining what constitutes degradation in these highly variable systems, though, is an unresolved challenge because defining degradation is highly subjective.  As is increasingly recognized, however, a substantial number of indigenous pastoral and agricultural systems make excellent use of these unpredictable environments with minimal, if any, degradation.  Some of this research also shows that in addition to being more ecologically appropriate, mobile pastoral systems are more socially resilient and economically less vulnerable to climate variability and drought.  This is a vital point because nomads and their livestock have been incorrectly blamed for a very long time for creating deserts like the Sahara.

...

Many of these ecological adaptations common in deserts were not well understood in 1927, however, when the French colonial forester Louis Lavauden, working in southern Tunisia, concluded that “desertification … is purely artificial. … It [is] caused uniquely by human action.”5 He, like so many before and after him, believed that indigenous deforestation and overgrazing had created great swaths of desertified land and desiccated environments in and around the Sahara, causing it to spread. As I detail in my book “The Arid Lands,” many governments have shared this belief — one that hinges on ecological myths that have been repeatedly and systematically dispelled — since the colonial period and thus have determined that nomads should be sedentarized, grazing reduced and controlled, and forests “replanted.”

Indeed, a majority of drylands development policy continues to be based on desertification dogma and old, outdated Anglo-European ecological ideas. 

#drylands #deserts #desertification #colonization #ecology #ecological myths

[malgal7777]

Hiking with Tracy 2021:  Weekend 3, the Lost Weekend

As I went back to re-read my blog I noticed I had cut off my WHOLE weekend of 4/17!!  This is my 20 mile walk from the Emeryville Marina to the Richmond Marina and back via the Bay Trail along the water & Hwy 80.  So let me try to reenact my journey!

The theme of this hike was “Don't tell me this town ain't got no heart, you just gotta poke around” - Once again I tip my hat to the great Jerry Garcia.  Not sure if you all figured it out, but I love Jerry.  I came to the Bay Area to follow the Grateful Dead’s music and I never left.  

This particular hike was absolutely beautiful.  I wish it wasn’t so I can mix this blog up, but sorry folks, you live in a beautiful area.  Even along a dirty highway, there are things of beauty all around you.  Take for example this hike, wildflowers everywhere.  Even popping out of the sidewalk.  I'm reminded of Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park...”Life refuses to be contained...it just finds a way”.  And sure enough, Sunflowers out of the sidewalk!

Since I was next to a highway, I went with headphones this time around.  One of my positives during this pandemic is my rekindled love for music radio stations.  I love listening to a radio station and I definitely have my favorite DJ’s. My personal favorites this past year were:  WWOZ - a local New Orleans station; KCSM - a Bay Area jazz station and KXT - out of Dallas, TX.  These stations literally kept me sane during the lockdowns.  I highly recommend them, especially if you’re cooking, doing chores or working in the garden. 

This particular morning I went with WWOZ.  And what a good decision that was.  Ron Phillips was spinning his favorite Saturday morning tunes and I was going down the road feeling BAD (as in good)!  Irma Thomas, Anders Osborne, The Subdudes and a little known singer/songwriter out of New Orleans, Chris Smithers.  If you get overwhelmed and about to burst...stream Chris Smithers “Let it Go”.  So funny.   Anders Osborne is a name my friends have been trying to get me into for a long time.  And I’m a bozo, definitely missed the boat on this one!  From his new album, try this song:  Welcome to Earth.  

Ok, so I digress!  Back to the walk.  In one of my last posts, I mentioned the people I meet.  Well this am was a doozy!  As I was grooving to the sweet sounds of the Crescent City I was approached by a group of ladies.  They had a question for me:  What’s more important in a relationship:  Love or Economics?  My first response was “Wow, you ladies don’t mess around for a Saturday morning!  Going deep on me”.  But, because I’m me, I had an answer. Now usually I would have said Love, Love, Love.  Hands down right?  But they caught me at a weird time.  I have been obsessively thinking of a comment I overheard from another group of ladies while doing my Diablo hike.  One of them had commented “I have no desire to marry just for love.  Forget that, I need to be economically stable”.  My reaction was pity for this poor girl.  I literally felt sorry for her.  The more I thought about it (obsessively for two weeks) I came to realize, she didn’t necessarily say she wasn’t going to work, she just wanted someone with their shit together and would contribute to their family being comfortable.  What’s wrong with that?  Is being comfortable taboo now?  So when my Bay Trail friends asked me, that’s how I answered.  Love was great but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be comfortable, isn’t that love after all?  I obviously made one of the women very happy.  She loved it.  The other two nodded and smiled, they were on Love’s side.  So we said our goodbyes and I felt like I had gotten a weight off my shoulders.  As I was walking away though...I asked myself...But didn’t YOU marry for love?  And sure enough, I did.  Bob & I didn’t have a pot to piss in.  And while we’re not the Rockefeller's, we’re comfortable enough for us.  I love him dearly and love has to be the basis that you build your financial future upon.  If you don’t have that, it get’s ugly when $$ is involved.  The best part of this moment was that song “Welcome to Earth” was playing as I was coming to this realization and the last line is literally “Love is always the answer”.  The Universe works in mysterious ways!  But, where were the ladies...I wanted to change my answer??!!  No where to be found.  Man, I blew it.  I would now obsessively think about this for the next 20 miles. Told you I was a bozo. 

By this time I had reached The Albany bulb.  A Bay Area gem to the north of Golden Gate Fields.  There’s a great beach and then it jets out into a peninsula which is covered with art installations all over.  I’ll talk more about that later, since I came back on Sunday to finish my 25 miles. This morning though I watched a group of swimmers about to enter the freezing bay waters, no wet suit mind you!  CRAZY and No Thank You!  Brrr.   Next Stop, Point Isabel, dog heaven.  A large open spaced off-leach dog park.  I go there all the time.  If you have a dog, you should take them.  They will love you even more than they already do. 

Now past Point Isabel is where the trail gets interesting.  You start to wander away from the highway and are now among the prettiest beaches and marshes. It’s an interesting view of the Bay Bridge and you can no longer see the Golden Gate Bridge as you veer north of it.  You now start to come upon single family homes along the trail.  You’re instantly reminded of Cape Cod.  A ocean view from Richmond, CA.  The best part is once you see this neighborhood you know you’re close to the marina.  And sure enough, I turned the bend and there in front of me was the Ford Assembly plant, my 1/2 way point.  But, it’s a very cruel joke.  You see the plant across the opening of the marina, it’s literally right there!!  Then the realization hits you in order to get to it you need to go around the WHOLE marina.  And as you continue to walk and go around another bend, the sidewalk gets longer and longer and longer.  The Richmond Marina is HUGE. Lovely though.  Large green spaces with people doing yoga;  a ladies bootcamp class along the water; boats coming and going from the marina and two pretty cute restaurants also along the water.  

I finally made it to the Ford Assembly Plant and now Richmond Ferry Terminal.  The assembly plant hosts seasonal events, we’ve been to the women’s roller derby ones.  Nothing like watching tough chicks bully each other on roller skates.  Then there are a few businesses strewn throughout the building.  Dolls Kill, which I believe is a clothing business for those on the freakier side of the spectrum.  And Mountain Hardware!  Quality clothing for the outdoorsy types.  I should have gone in and gotten a windbreaker.  The wind was pretty brutal.  

The best part was of course the Rosie The Riveter museum.  A museum dedicated to the women that left the kids at home and joined the workforce to help build ships during WWII.  This whole area was built for the war effort.  Richmond grew from 25,000 to over 100,000 within three years!!!  Can you imagine?  How does any town build the infrastructure needed to maintain that population?  Grocery stores?  Clothing? Schools?  Highly recommended.  It’s a suggested donation, so don’t be cheap, donate.  You won’t be disappointed.  I once brought Charlotte and a couple of her Girl Scout troop there to meet a real life “Rosie”.  She told the girls her story and it was of course about LOVE!  The trials and tribulations of her and her partner as he was fighting in the war and she was here making the ships that would keep him safe.  Man, where were those 3 ladies!!  

The way back was pretty much the same. I made it!  Now onto Sunday, 4/18. The Albany Bulb!  A Bay Area gem.  Bob & I have been coming here for years.  Way back when it was a landfill full of broken concrete slabs and rebar.  Some artist types took it upon themselves to start living there.  They kept the concrete slabs and rebar and started to make installations out of them.  Giant sized figures;  rows of wooden paintings; mazes and one guy even built a concrete castle along the water facing the Golden Gate Bridge.  Best real estate in the Bay.  They exemplified the phrase “one mans trash is another man’s treasure”.  Of course the stuffed shirts got wind and kicked them out.  But gave the stuffed shirts an idea...Hey, why not make a park out of this dirty unused lot?  Duh.  So before you harass your kid for taking art classes, remember it’s usually the artists who push the rest of society in the right direction.  

It’s also a great place to bird watch and now the wildflowers are a blooming, so it’s quite serene.  If you’re looking for some inspiration, this is the place for you.  

So my posts/weeks are a bit out of order.  Oh well!  It’s my blog and I’ll create chaos if I want to!  

I’ll end on this note:  Love is ALWAYS the answer. 

So sponsor me (hehehe):  https://runsignup.com/tracyalbert/Donate

[ghostbloggerghost]

How many pizza boys does it take to change a light bulb?

There is no punchline, it’s just what I did this week

12/15/2020

It’s been a rather intense month, so I’m a little sad to say I don’t have a ton to report this week. Which I guess could be okay depending on your perspective. We return to your regularly scheduled pizza boy mishaps and Henry sightings! After everything that’s been happening, this week felt slow. Work has been mostly normal, and I brought Old Linda some groceries again. So I guess that's the weirdest thing- I got to see the inside of her house. 

We were, of course, social distancing. And it was only because, as I was leaving some stuff on the porch for her, she cracked the door open and asked me if I actually wouldn't mind bringing them into the kitchen and changing a light bulb for her. Old Linda is kind of small, and a little hunched, so I'm sort of betting she would have difficulty on a ladder, or not be able to reach. Her ceilings are pretty high. I said it wouldn't be a problem, but wanted to make sure she was okay and that we could make it as safe as possible for her. She said she set up and wiped down a ladder already, she was going to actually go to the living room. She left some cleaning wipes and things, and asked me to just wipe everything down when I was done. I also offered to put away groceries for her, but she said no- she had to wipe them down first. She told me to just change the bulb and maybe, if I could, put the ladder back out in the shed after.

After waiting a couple minutes for her to get to the living room, I enter, crossing through some sort of long forgotten sitting room into the kitchen. I set the bags on a table in the corner of the room. For the size of the house the kitchen isn't too big. It looks like barely enough space for the table she has wedged into the corner. It feels a bit dated, like it was last re-done in the 70's or so. Wood cabinets, looking like the varnish has worn away in some places. The floor is a tile pattern, though it looks like there are some chips and cracks around the edges. The fridge and stove are a sort of off moss green color, and wood paneling can be seen around the edges of the room, like by the seating area. I momentarily pause, just looking around the kitchen. 

There is grey light coming in through the window over the sink, and I can see a mix of decaying and overgrown plants on the windowsill. I walk over to the sink, washing my hands, and sprinkling some water over the plants, before drying them. I turn to the ladder set up just off center of the room. Glancing around I see the lightbulbs on the counter. Checking to make sure the ladder is steady, I head up. Even with the ladder, I can only just see into the light itself. It was more of a glorified step stool than a ladder, but I'm able to reach the bulb and twist it out. Though not without sending a cascade of dust over the room. I climb back down the ladder, shaking dust from my hair and face. I suppose thanks to my mask I'm not sent into a fit of sneezing, but I still hear a small sneeze behind me. Turning around I spy Henry, crouched under the table, tail lashing, and of course, glaring.

"Hey bud, sorry about the dust- Just gotta put the new bulb in, and I'll be out of your way."

The response to this was of course more glaring, though it did come with another sneeze.

"What?" I hear from down the hall.

"Nothing, sorry Linda, just the cat sneezing. I knocked down some dust."

"Henry, you leave the boy alone. Can't feed you if I can't see my damn hand in front of my face."

"I'll be done in a minute, no worries."

I head back up the ladder with the new bulb, twisting it into place. I pause for a moment making sure it's in right before starting back down the ladder. There is a growl, and suddenly Henry is underfoot. I clumsily stumble from the ladder. Thankfully I caught myself on the table instead of bouncing my head off it.

"Damnit, Henry," I mutter to myself.

I push myself up, dusting myself off again, and glancing around for Henry, but I can see no sign of him now. I feel like I've become rivals with a cat. I'm just not sure if they are trying to kill me or begrudgingly save me. I still have my doubts about Henry being a cat at all, though mysterious vengeance would seemingly describe a fair number of cats. I wipe down everything I can, and wash my hands again. I also double check to make sure the light works. I can see faint snow flurries beginning to drift down outside. I fold up the ladder and yell to Old Linda-

"Linda, you're all set- need anything else before I put away the ladder?"

"There is an envelope on the table for you- watch yourself out there."

"Ah, Thank you. Stay safe Linda- Let me know if you need anything."

I let myself out. Peering into the shed, I set the ladder just inside the door. I glance around at the collection of old gardening tools and weird parts that have made their home in this small, slightly listing shelter. As I make my way back to the road, I spy Henry in the window. I stare back at him for a moment before waving and making my way home.

I did have my EMF reader with me, and had it on in my bag, but I don't think it picked up anything while I was in Old Linda's house. Which is a bit of a bummer, it certainly made enough strange creaking and distant rattling noises to be haunted.

I hope everyone is staying safe throughout the holidays and enjoying themselves as best they can! It’s still a ways off, but remember that virtual holiday party I mentioned? My gf wants me to pick up the decorations for it this week, since I have to leave the house to get groceries anyways. We could probably wait a bit- but it feels like we may be close to going back into full lock down again soon. Better safe than sorry, right? Until next time-

Stay safe- and stay haunted!

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[msmoonfire]

How to prep for Lammas ❂

I know witchy fellas, it’s boiling hot & sunny out there. But we gotta put it in the effort. All together. Till the end. Till Lammas.

Briefly explained, Lammas or ‎Lughnasadh opens the harvest season around August 1st and our ancestors would know the perfect timing of it by watching the rise of the star Sirius at the dawn after a long while not showing. This sabbat originated by the Celts whom used to propitiate Lugh to ensure sunny weather and a fruitful harvest. He was their god of Light, excellently proficient in all arts & protector of thieves, travelers and merchants.  Moving to the southern areas, this celebration was still existing in a more earthy practical variant: mother Earth, plants, fresh produce, seeds and grains were the actual focus. These other people couldn’t care less about Lugh. They only cared about showing gratitude to Nature as a whole, often by baking the first LOAF MASS of the season (Lammas, a bread loaf) after months of summer break - we should stop baking at home from Beltane day till Lammas day, unless we’re home-based bakers and do that for a living;)

So, as usual, in this post I’m going to give you tips & ideas to prep for august 1st. Which means these are not things you should do on the very day, but BEFORE. Don’t rush last minute darlings. We can do this. 

Let’s get readayyyy. ✽

1. Local farmers’ markets should become a routine. Ok, hands down we all need the supermarket to survive on a daily basis but you can surely minimize your shopping list, so you can go buy fresh produce at some farmers’ market. Buy organic stuff there, not at the mall. This is a good easy way to re-establish a direct contact with Earth and welcome earthy energies into your life. Plus, it’s going to be a refreshing walk every time.

2. Improve the lighting in your house/room. Besides Samhain, this is by far the best time of the year to purchase new lamps, led lights, lanterns; fix bulbs that are out, remove useless/broken curtains, buy candles, add fairy lights everywhere etc... Being a metaphor of the sunny weather, daylight and artificial lighting in general must be of primary importance in your environment. Enhance natural lighting during the day, set up a nice and diffused lowlight illumination system at night. Don’t forget your backyard ‘cause...

3. You should take good care of your garden. I don’t care how busy you are, we all have at least 5 spare minutes to trim out dead leaves from our plants. If you own a piece of land or have a rather big veg garden, please don’t forget about it. Pay special attention to your plants/trees, do a little bit of cleaning every day, pick what’s ripe, cut out dead leaves, get creative with your lawn mower, water the vases, work the ground... The goal is to have a beautiful, curated garden by august 1st. But if you don’t have a garden or similar...

3.2. Buy your fav aromatic plant & look after it. Choose herbs that you prefer adding to your meals (if you’re a diy pro or make your own soaps etc.. feel free to use that fragrant plant in your products), so that you’ll be able to use it quite often without forcing yourself. I personally do it with basil. Basil is my daily go-to, I love its smell and taste. Again, the goal is to buy a plant in July and prove to Mother Nature that you can nurture it properly until at least august 1st. Get in touch with the “green world” and upgrade your basic skills. In other words...

4. Try to excel in every project/activity you start. Remember what you read earlier? Blame Lugh for this one. Lammas day is like a test: if you want Nature to be by your side during harvest time, you must earn its trust through proving that you’re able to achieve great results - because you’re a hard worker.  July is about learning, attending classes, practicing, studying. My advice would be to not start a bunch of random projects now: be picky and commit to only one or a few. Be honest with yourself, modest with timing and consistent in everyday practice so that in august you’ll be skilled enough to unleash your best potential. This is your time to shine!

5. Do your research on baking bread. Yes, exactly. Read recipes, articles, books etc... On Lammas day you want to have fun baking your first bread loaf of the season, so you’d better be prepared. It’s a fun experience even if you’re not a pro baker, at least you can try a new hobby to fill your free morning/evening. But baking a beautifully decorated, tasty, fragrant bread loaf would take Lammas to the next level though.

If you don’t own an oven, purchase a small electric one for less than 50$. It’ll be useful to cook other foods in the future without stressing the hell out of your microwave. 

*for our celiac fellas*: grains and gluten are clearly off-limits for you. However, Lammas’ celebration involves CORN as well. Try to make your gluten-free dough with corn flour, rice flour or other ingredients that are suitable for you. Focaccia, polenta and pizza doughs are also suitable for the occasion.

6. Include apples, grapes and corn in you cosmetics or in your diet. Since these fruits are in season, why not take heed of their benefits? Simply buy things like apple shampoo, grape lip balm, apple snacks, grape masks... A BAG OF CRISPY POP CORN...These are valid examples. You have a wide range of choice, you’ve got the powahhh.

7. Grab a book and a glass of Albariño/Pinot Noir/Rosé. That’s how you pamper yourself before Lammas. A rocking chair in the garden, proper lighting for reading, a cushion, your fav book and a glass of fine wine. 

Alternatively, you can elegantly snack on grapes or sip some super refreshing apple juice from a chic crystal goblet!

8. Develop a grounding routine. For those who are new to the grounding concept, I’ll break it down real quick. We’re always moving, on the go, running, rushing, driving, working out, traveling, walking, cleaning, fidgeting, passively entertained, distracted by screens or social media etc... The practice of grounding promotes the exact opposite to reach inner balance and fulfillment. Basically, it’s very good to be swift and active, but being incapable of sitting still while quietly dealing with ourselves is a huge, major problem. Imagine rooting yourself into the soil: you can lay down or sit comfortably on the ground without a mat and really feel the Earth underneath. Close your eyes, breathe deeply, choose a meditation method that you like, visualize yourself being as static and peaceful as a tree... Or simply be. You’ll find a way to contemplate these OFFLINE moments away from photos, screens, sounds, people... This routine should take 10-20 minutes of your day. Make sure it takes place in nature, or alternatively in places where there’s actual grass, ground or nearby your (aromatic) plants so you can touch them if you need to.

9. Get creative with corn magic and corn art. Lammas has a solid tradition of corn use for various purposes. As you’re prepping for the big day, start featuring corn kernel/cobs in your magic. If you don’t practice - which is totally fine - carry a small amulet bag with corn inside with you. If you’re an artist or crafter, paint the kornel or use cobs for artwork!

10. Be out in the sunlight, sun bathe or simply breathe fresh air, get outside, enjoy all things outdoors :)

Hope this was helpful and inspirational fo you all, good luck and happy Lammas darlings.

Floods of love,  msmoonfire (IG: @msmoonfire)

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