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femoso-seben · 4 months

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Livestock AU pt. 2

pt.1,

- Kangal! Price and Llama! Alejandro are very proud of their land and territory. Alejandro only lets in a few dogs Price of course they’re old friends and Border Collie! Gaz, on one condition, Alejandro does the discipline.

- The ewes hybrid finds Alejandro very handsome and he always gets the treats the farmer gives the sheep. The small Lambs will scream and cry if they get lost and Alejandro will go rescue them.

- When rams are introduced into the herd Alejandro has to give the poor ram hybrid a long list of Dos and Don’ts (mostly don’t). Alejandro is highly protective of his ewes and will not take disrespect towards them.

- the heard of sheep is renounced for their wool production so theirs about 6,000 sheep Gaz is the only heard dog working there (because Al can not stand anyone else than agreeable Gaz)

- Gaz has befriended most of the Ewes and has a good rapport with most of the Ewes there is one older one, who gives him shit and calls him Sonny, Honey, and Sweetpea while not moving.

- Gaz does a lot of bearding of the sheep walking the parameter and reporting back to Alejandro. Alejandro spends most of his time with the Lambs or pregnant Ewes who walk the field. He chooses to be in the center of the herd.

- Price speaks with the head farmer often with Laswell to protect the farm better, then spread out to tell their underlings.

- Kangel! Ghost mostly walks around the perimeter of the farm’s land marking his territory and scenting the area to keep pesty coyotes and wolves away. Usually Barn Cat! Roach follows after Ghost

- Ghost struggles to socialize with the other dogs and sees all herds as his true family. The Farmers had to socialize with him and Ghost bonded with Price first, shadowing him before branching off

- Ghost have the deepest scariest bark and the first time all the herd animals heard it they ran for it hiding behind their guardian.

- Ghost also prefers the cats for their quietness (except for Roach who can have a one-way conversation with himself) Ghost tried to snide Laswell once got the smacking of his life (Laswell has his most respect besides Price)

- Great Pyrenees! Soap was added before Gaz but after Ghost. When the fowls were added they were too noisy for either Price or Ghost. So soap was brought in. Sociable and talkative will know all the inside bird drama from the duck, chicken, and Goose Hybrids.

- Soap spends most of his move getting the birds into their fields and feeding them before walking the inner area looking to help anyone who needs it. Usually ends up Chilling with Rudy since Al forbids him in the sheep acres (gets very sad when Gaz has to lead to do his job and not chat with him. Have tried begging Alejandro still refuses. Did cry himself asleep he really wanted to hug the fluffy ewes and lambs)

- Soap sometimes shadows Ghost and slowly his happy calmish demeanor rubs off on Soap and becomes his second bonded friend. After the morning recon, they explore the scents to see if theirs any threats, and then Soap runs off to tell Price and gather the boys

- Soap is a strong guardian dog once the fowl were moved to a field and a building was erect Soap ends up fighting off the Coyotes often at night who try to snatch one of his gossiping birdies. Ghost does Join since that’s where the action is.

- Coyote! Valeria and Soap have the most enemies-to-lover vibes while having the gayest vibes too. They flirt but in like a hateful way. Valeria has a mate somewhere and goes after the fowls mainly when she and her mate are having pups or to piss off Soap.

- Barn Cat! Laswell was gotten before any of the livestock and when both Alejandro and Price were added she instantly put them in their place. Al and Price like having her import and her inner network of barn cats from other barns do a lot of inter-barn cat political activities.

- Roach and Laswell sometimes go off for a few days to the cat conference and come back with knowledge! Once Rat! Makarov invaded and wreak other barns Laswell was very adamant about catching that criminal

- Laswell needed more men and told the Farmer she needed more soldiers that’s where Barn Cat! Farah and Alex were added and they have been waging war

- Makarov and his forces once trapped Alex and got his leg caught onset some debris. He has a permanent limp but still works as a Barn cat.

- Makarov and Konni forces live under the dirt and in tight spots spying.

- the farmers got so annoyed they gathered SpecGru hunting association (hunting dogs ready to hunt rats) they got a lot of Makarov’s forces but rats reproduce quickly so they came back

- lastly added to the man Guardian and the farm were the Goats (mostly use to make Goat cheese) was Alpaca! Rudy. A very pretty hybrid that Al instantly was attracted to. Rudy is a good alarm system but isn’t likely to fight but will.

- Alejandro saw Rudy in another field and thought about jumping the fence to chat but Gaz put him in his place

- the first-time livestock guardian 141! Ran into Wolf! Graves his shadow company pack were stalking a Goat and Rudy alerted everyone.

- a tense stand-off between Ghost, Price, and Soap. They had to use intimidation to scare off the wolves.

- German Shepard! Nik is the Farmer's personal pet and likes to come around to collect the chicken eggs and sometimes tell wild stories to the young guardian dogs (Gaz and Soap haven't decided of his tails are real or not)

- Young Barn Cat! Reader tends to follow Laswell around and sit in the garden and sunbathe, stalk the chicks, and get chased off by Soap.

- Kitten! Reader and Makarov got beef after the giant ass Rat Makarov popped up next to Kitten! Reader. 141 are now on the lookout for the giant rat.

- soon once Cat! Reader grows up they will join the fight against Makarov and Konni group

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Any request for this AU is welcomed!

inspired a little by @tacticalanklebiter3000 and @frogchiro

#141 #call of duty #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #captain price #john soap mactavish #cod #kyle gaz garrick #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #vladimir makarov #valeria garza #alejandro vargas #Livestock Guardian Au #gary roach sanderson #kate laswell #cod nikolai #philip graves #shadow company

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mausinly · 3 months

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Grrr cowboy!velikan thoughts, au belongs to @ghouljams, also big thanks to @reyesbignaturals for enabling me hehehe

I don't think he's exactly retired yet, more like laying low with a lot of other guys from Shadow Company. Maybe they did something just a little (not little) risky (they almost blew up all of Washington) and need to stay off the radar for a while. Since Lerch is canonically from Texas, I think it may have been his idea. He's got some of the shadows working as temporary hands while others are holed up on various plots of land in plain sight.

While Graves is busy riding bulls and being a usual showboat, I think Velikan is more dedicated to the laying low part of laying low. He's living on a small ranch, nothing more than maybe 5 acres. He's got a few horses and livestock, mainly chickens and goats because he wants things he can wrangle easily.

It takes some adjustment for him, the slow and somewhat repetitive life in a small town like this. He's so used to constantly being on the move, constantly being on guard. He didn't become the warden by half-assing his job.

But it's so quiet. He always drags himself down to the bars and rodeo arenas with the rest of the shadows, just for the white noise (and to bet on how quickly his CEO gets bucked). They must look like some kind of old western gang, all wearing black hats and bandanas over their mouths. At least there's still that familiarity. He hates to admit it, but he cares about these kids more than he wants to.

It's nice for a while, a little too nice. Laying low seems to drag out longer and longer, and he finds himself calling his little farm "home" more often than not. He starts to understand the suspicious amount of retired military here, this weirdass town has a way of luring you in and wiggling its way into your heart.

Apparently, a lot of the other shadows seem to agree because, one by one, they all begin to settle down with oddly charming and beautiful women. They start making jokes that there must be something in the water when Graves starts chasing around a pretty bronc rider.

He didn't take it all too seriously until he walked by a little stand in the market, selling jars of honey with you sitting comfortably behind the display. There's a frayed little straw hat sitting comfortably on your head and he can't help but wonder how it would look replaced by his own.

Hell, maybe there is something in the water...

#maus writes #i both love and hate writing for characters that dont have much of a personality #because i can play with them like dolls and make them whatever i want but i also want them to feel accurate #which is hard when this guys only voicelines are just his maniacal ass laughter and legit no one knows anything abt him #so im taking him and running #next cowboy post will be the introduction of his darling + meet cute #so ill actually be able to write how he acts and speaks in day to day human interaction #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #velikan x reader #velikan #velikan cod #velikan call of duty #cowboy!velikan #velikan x f!reader #cod

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lily-alphonse · 5 days

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Helpless, ADHD riddled farmer falls hard for Harvey

Farmer: I’ve devoted my entire crop to coffee beans because I do not know how to express love via normal means!

Harvey: Wow! No one has ever loved me like this! I… I love you too, farmer.”

(They kiss)

Harvey: Uh. Did you plant… only coffee? On all 23 acres of your farm?

Farmer: Was I not supposed to?

Harvey: Oh honey :|

Farmer: Please help I am woefully inept :D

Harvey: :/

Farmer: :D

Farmer: I spent the last of my savings on this cool pendant and I want you to have it (brandishes mermaid pendant)

Harvey: (shocked, tears in his eyes) Do you know what this means?

Farmer: Please save me from myself :D

(Harvey accepts, gets farmer on meds and gently guides them away from horrible decisions while farmer brightens their days with their shenanigans and they live happily ever after)

#i can fix him? more like he can fix ME lmao #save me from myself harvey lmao #idk its late man #maybe funny #drabble #stardew valley #sdv #harvey my beloved #harvey x farmer #sdv harvey #sdv memes #sdv incorrect quotes

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erodasfishtacos · 2 years

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xowboyrry when yn gets her period and isn’t pregnant

The Styles’ Farm sits on over 400 hundred acres of land, they sell their produce of fruits and vegetables, dairy products from their cows and goats, their flowers that grow in the cultivated fields among other things that lead them to being so successful.

They ship out most of their products to stores in the bigger surrounding city but also have a little shop where locals can stop in to buy things as well - YN runs it during the day.

Harry is hard to find during the day because he can be a few feet from the house or he could be miles away working on something.

Today, he happened to be stopping a closer barn after he’d spent most the day getting a goat’s horns untangled from an iron fence and now he had to fix a leak in one of their water pumps.

“Excuse me, Harry!” A voice grabs his attention from across the way, it was Mrs. Patterson with a basket full of vegetables and a few other small items.

“Hello there,” He greets, tucking his gloves into his back pocket - ignoring the way the old woman gazes at his body up and down, “What can I do for you, Mrs. Patterson?”

“Sorry to be a bother, dear. I was waiting around for your lovely wife, so I could pay you for these goods but she hasn’t been around. I left the money on the counter but didn’t want anyone to think I was stealing,” She tells him with soft, concerned eyesight and a pat to his arm.

“You haven’t seen her?” Harry repeats with a furrowed brow, “She should be in the shop today. I’ll go check on her. Thank you for your business, if you stop by tomorrow we’ll have some fresh quail eggs.”

The gray woman nods before she’s walking back to her truck and Harry’s stepping into the shop to double check she wasn’t in there.

His concern is skyrocketing when he realizes something may be wrong, he’s nearly running to their home, and as soon as he’s in the cool, air-conditioned space he’s shouting, “Sweet pea? Are you in here? Where have ya’ gone, sugar?”

“Up here,” He hears a faint reply but it sounds like she’s crying and so he’s taking the stairs by two until he’s at their bedroom.

She must be in the bathroom adjoined to their room because the door is shut and when Harry goes to open it, it’s locked.

“Darlin’, what’s going on? Open the door for me, s’just your husband. C’mon, don’t be stubborn,” Harry coaxes as waits against the wood door with a sigh.

“I just want to be left alone,” YN replies weakly, Harry knows by that tone that she really doesn’t want to be left alone.

“And I want to see my wife,” Harry responds a bit more firmly, “S’my job to make sure my wife is okay and I need you to let me do my job, pea. Be a good girl for me.”

YN rustles a bit before she’s opening the door, eyes puffy and swollen from tears as she wipes her face with a cloth.

Harry steps forward, boots loud against the old floorboards as he cups her face between his calloused hands and murmurs, “Honey, what’s this for? Why didn’t you come get me?”

YN shakes her head, “You have more important things to deal with than my stupid emotions.”

“They’re not stupid, don’t you ever say that,” Harry rebukes sternly, his mossy green eyes serious as he leans in to kiss his wife’s nose and when he pulls back, he catches a glimpse out of the corner of his eye.

A box of pads, a few waded up pieces of bloody toilet tissue in the waste bin - her period had come and she wasn’t pregnant.

“Oh, sugar,” Harry hums when he realizes, his lips peppering kisses all over her face, “Just not this month, yeah? Doesn’t mean anything except we keep trying.”

“Yo-you work so hard, everyday to provide for me, and I can’t give you the one thing my stupid fucking body is supposed to do!” YN cries with fierce tears as she lets the emotion overwhelm her.

“Whoa, now. That’s not how this is going,” Harry replies with a sharp edge, he’s gently but assertively guiding her out of the bathroom and onto the end until she’s laid back - he’s not wasting anytime in tugging the sundress over her head until she only has on her underwear, “You’re body is more than just for babies.”

Harry doesn’t care that they’ll have to change the sheets later when he kneels over her in his dirty jeans and flannel - he kisses her lips before his lips are moving down the column on her neck, big hands massaging her bruised tummy.

“I love this body so much. It shatters my heart when you talk bad about it, pea,” Harry murmurs as his lips trail across her chest, making her taking in a big inhale as his breath teases over her nipples, “I’ll love and provide for you until we’re a hundred and five, whether we have kids or don’t. My love for you isn’t dependent on this.”

YN is still crying but now they’re just…somewhat happy tears because she loves her husband so fucking much.

She didn’t know what she did to deserve his love.

“I’m sorry, I’m distracted you from work,” YN mumbles sheepishly, embarrassed as he pecks her nipples before trailing down to her belly.

“Sugar, you need to get me when you feel this way,” Harry reminds her, “You don’t have to deal with it alone. I’m always here for you.”

YN has to admit that him being so loving, so affectionate right now - it has her wanting to wriggle her hips and spread open for him even though he’s not looking for that.

When he’s about to lift his head up, to most likely kiss her, she moves the hand that’s resting in her belly down to her panties.

“That’s not why I was loving up on you, darling,” Harry says quietly, his fingers tracing at the little bow on the trim of her underwear, “Just want you to know I love you, through everything.”

“I know, I know that’s not why,” YN tells him, “Want you to make me feel better this way. Unless you don’t want to-“

Harry startles a giggle out of YN when he jolts up to kiss her hard, biting at her lip before chuckling against her lips, “I’d be a mad man to turn down a chance to please my pretty wife.”

The good thing about Harry is nothing grossed him out or even phased him, growing up on a farm - he saw everything and anything so he didn’t even think twice about a bit of blood.

“If you want me home at a good time, we got to make this quick, pea,” Harry rasps as he undies his thick leather belt and tugs them down just enough to pull himself out.

“I know, just want to come and take a nap,” YN whines a bit brattily as he shimmies off her underwear until she’s bare.

“Spoiled lil’ thing you are, m’so fucking gone for you,” Harry laughs to himself as he hikes her thighs up and guides himself in, moaning at how fiery warm her walls are.

“H,” YN mewls as he fucks into her, hitting her spot dead on, and without miss - he’s so strong, forceful, and YN is quite sure he’s the sexiest man to exist.

“Give it to me,” Harry rumbles as his hand sucks down to rub at her swollen bud, “Squeeze on me, let me feel that pretty cunt.”

It doesn’t take long with his dirty words for YN to do as he asks, spasms around him which spurs his orgasm to overtake him too.

He cleans her up, the himself before he’s tucking her into their bed on clean sheets that he changed, and he’s back into the fields for another eight or so hours.

Some may call it a simple life but fuck, it was the only one Harry wanted.

#harry styles #update #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #cowboyrry #cowboy!au #cowboy!harry

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candied-boys · 9 months

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The Beekeepers' Daughter

Luke Randolph x fem! Reader

Is this what they call a drabble or is it a hc?

Tags: SFW, fluff, country life, honeybees, pregnancy, breeding kink🤤, a lot of kids

Cowboy Luke who shows up at your honey farm one day and buys a crate each of lavender, clover, wild flower, heather, and buckwheat honey.

Cowboy Luke who is silently impressed by the way you insist on helping to carry the boxes of liquid gold out to his truck without breaking a sweat.

Cowboy Luke who pauses loading up his muddy red truck, the same colour as his beautiful hair, and looks at you curiously when you ask if he's going to take it to sell at a market in the city.

Cowboy Luke who grins wide with a sparkle in his lush green eyes and tells you he's gonna eat it all himself and that he reckons you'll be seeing a lot more of him since he just moved into the 500 acre ranch thirty minutes down the road.

Cowboy Luke who chuckles at your flabbergasted expression and confirms that yes, that old cow rustler does indeed have not merely seven but eight sons.

Cowboy Luke who just can't seem to get your pretty eyes, your adorable small town accent, and your honey sweet laugh out of his head when he's napping in the hay loft or riding the range for hours on end.

Cowboy Luke who comes back a month later to buy more honey, but only picks up one jar this time so that he has an excuse to come visit you sooner - this week sooner.

Cowboy Luke who keeps dropping by, saying he's too lazy to drive cattle and muck stalls, but chats you up until you let him help you with loading the hives into your truck and then rides shotgun in your truck to take the bees out to pollinate other farms.

Cowboy Luke who brings fishing gear the next time you take the bees out for a ride together so you got something to do while you wait for the tiny creatures to collect their fill.

Cowboy Luke who cooks you up a mean fried catfish with all the fixings using his catch from earlier after y'all get back to your little house on the farm.

Cowboy Luke who’s impatient for the weather to get a little hotter so he can finally ask you to go down to the lake with him ‘cause he just can't get the image of the sun kissing your bare skin out of his mind lately.

Cowboy Luke who just can't keep his hands off you after he finally makes a move, but you can't resist him either, and a few months of rolling in the hay later…

Cowboy Luke who catches a shooting star for you and puts it on a ring because he wants you and only you forever, shotgun wedding or not.

Cowboy Luke who has a hard time reining in his desire for you as the changes to your body remind him daily that it's his child you carry, always looking at you with those half lidded eyes tainted with lust that he knows you just can't resist.

Cowboy Luke who won't let you lift a finger once the baby is born, doing all the farm work and all the house work and all the baby care because he has an abundance of energy, but more importantly is madly in love with his baby girl who looks just like you.

Cowboy Luke who doesn't have to wait a year to ask for a second like he planned because you have baby fever and want him all the time.

Cowboy Luke who is over the moon when the doctor tells him you're having twins, but is secretly nervous because two boys will be a handful on top of a two year old.

Cowboy Luke who stands on the porch, his arms wrapped around you from behind, as the two of you watch your six kids run around the yard ten years later.

Cowboy Luke who never imagined he'd ever be this happy after everything he went through growing up, but who is grateful for every second of his life since he met you.

#ikemen luke #ikemen prince luke randolph #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri headcanons #luke randolph #ikemen prince luke #ikepri luke #ikepri fanfiction

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mosneakers · 7 months

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Coraleye: This one here is Peachy Dream. And that's Oddball. He has to be by Peachy's side at all times; otherwise he gets upset. Sienna says he deals with something called 'anxious attachment" due to trauma.

Leanne: [Nods knowingly] Yep. Cling-hitchin' jitters, what we call 'em.

Tycho: Your family's farm is beautiful, Leanne. I assume you'd have the resources to adopt them both, then? They're kind of a package deal.

Leanne: Oh honey, we got acres for miles. They've even got some room to make some foals n' fillies if that's what wriggles their withers! Coraleye: Well, I guess that settles it. I'll give you Sienna's number and she'll work out the details with you. We're so thankful for this, Leanne. Sienna wanted us to adopt them, but we don't have what it takes to take care of a horse at the moment.

Leanne: Well don't mention it, sugar. Y'all can come by and visit any time you'd like. [Whispers] Long as you bring me back one of them potions or two from your trip to the Magic Realm! [Wink]

After Sienna's approval, looks like some plans are in motion for Peachy Dream and Oddball to relocate to Brindleton Bay 🤗💕

#ts4 #ts4 story #ts4 gameplay #MD4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #The sim 4 #MD4season10 #Brindleton Bay #Coraleye Darling #Leanne Farmer #Tycho Curious

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cafffine · 7 months

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why did someone. to my face. just defend the ‘honey is not vegan’ argument by saying “yeah but honestly it’s commonly known to vegans that the honey bees that are used for mass produced honey aren’t native to a lot of the places they’re farmed so it’s just another animal product doing damage to the-”

PLEASEEEEEEE look at me right now and tell me that the millions of acres of soy beans in the midwest are a nonharmful fully native peace and love product. tell me that with a straight face.

#like ok let’s have a conversation about honey bees being non native and chasing out native pollinators #but literally that is the case for like. every agricultural product in the supermarket rn so what the fuck are u saying #WHATEVER…..!!!!!#double shot

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tastesoftamriel · 1 year

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You’ve probably gone over this before but tumblr’s search engine sucks butt. So, what would each culture’s staple crops and livestock (for both meat and byproducts) be? How much would globalization come into play, like how irl potatoes are originally from South America but have become one of the most important staple foods across the world?

Staple crops and livestock vary throughout the Provinces due to climate and geography, though trade over the centuries has meant that ingredients like saltrice from Morrowind and honey from Skyrim are in constant circulation around the continent. Nonetheless, here are some uniquely local ingredients you'll find across Tamriel.

Altmer

Summerset's temperate climate makes it the ideal place to grow all sorts of exotic fruit, especially stone fruit. From peaches to lychees, nectarines to cherries, Summerset produces the largest quantities of these fruits (with the trade embargo around the Great War and Dragon Crisis making them an extremely sought-after prize). And don't forget the wine! Summerset is also famed for its gorgeous vineyards and even more gorgeous wines. However, juicy and flavourful grapes are beloved by almost anybody, making them a valuable staple crop too.

Livestock in Summerset is nothing particularly exciting. Merino sheep are farmed for their wool, which is a luxury export beloved by northern Provinces, while meat comes in the form of cattle and chickens. However, High Elves particularly love their wild-caught fish and herons, which are populous on their home island.

Argonians

Once again, fruit is a major export from Black Marsh, but the fertile (if hostile) region is home to some of Tamriel's best agricultural soil. From cocoa and coffee beans, saltrice and coconuts, to padan and banana leaves and more, you'll find all sorts of wonderful plant-based ingredients in Black Marsh. However, something that has gained in popularity following the Argonian diaspora has been palm wine, a potent alcoholic beverage.

As for livestock, you'll find bantam guar, guar lizards, various poultry, goats, and even farmed frogs and lizards to be popular. Sheep and cattle are far less popular due to the upkeep required for them to stay healthy in the swampy environment, making beef and mutton less popular and more expensive than in other Provinces.

Bosmer

The Bosmer are famed for their meat and animal byproducts, particularly from timber mammoths and sugar mammoths. Whether it's meat, pelts, or milk, these beasts are much beloved by the Wood Elves who take great care in rearing them.

Other popular exports from Valenwood include alcoholic beverages like rotmeth and jagga, as well as kopi luwak- a luxurious type of coffee made from beans found in civet cat excrement, thus making them Green Pact-friendly. And of course, Valenwood produces some of Tamriel's finest cocoa beans, mostly used for export. However, have you truly lived until you've tried salted sugar mammoth caramelised milk chocolate from Woodhearth?

Bretons

In High Rock, sheep and cattle are the most popular livestock to farm due to their versatility, with a constant demand for their meat, horns, skins, and milk. While it's nothing exciting, the animals in the region are usually grass-fed and free range, spanning acres of farmland (which can sometimes result in cultists and the like infringing upon the livelihood of livestock). Chickens, geese, turkeys, and ducks are also popular for their meat, down, and eggs, with High Rock producing some of Tamriel's best duck meat.

With regards to staple crops, wheat is a major export and features heavily in Breton cuisine, especially in bread.

Dunmer

The volcanic ash of Morrowind is key to its success in growing all manner of weird and wonderful crops. Market stalls across Vvardenfell and Blacklight bustle with sellers touting mushrooms of all kinds, saltrice, comberry, marshmerrow, hackle-lo, canis root, and much more, all of which are consumed locally as well as across Tamriel.

Regarding livestock, it should come as no surprise that the big money is in bug farming. Kwama mines produce cuttle, scuttle, scrib jelly, and kwama eggs, making them the backbone of Morrowind's mages and chefs alike. Nix-hounds and guar are raised both by town Dunmer and Ashlanders, while wild nix-ox is also popular for those who can afford it.

Imperials

Cyrodiil spans terrain from the snowy Jerall Mountains to the swamps of Blackwood. As a result, the Province is relatively self-sufficient in that it produces the bulk of its own consumption, from livestock to greens. Speaking of greens, battaglir, a type of weed, is a staple in the Imperial diet, making wild-foraged and farmed battaglir a key crop in the region. Like Summerset, Cyrodiil is also famed for itswines, and is proud of its unique grapes of every size, flavour, and colour (including ones that taste like cotton candy).

Livestock in Cyrodiil is about as generic as can be: cows, sheep, goats, poultry, and horses. While meat is a staple part of the Imperial diet, milk is also important as it is used to make the cream and cheeses so prized by the Province.

Khajiit

What don't the Khajiit grow or rear? From Southern Elsweyr's rich moon sugar and rice paddies to the North's edible cacti and tea, the Province is full of exotic and scrumptious delights that are highly prized across Tamriel. Ingredients are valuable both raw and processed, and form the backbone of the Khajiiti economy. Samar Pekoe tea, for example, is wild-harvested from caves and is beloved by tea aficionados across the continent, and fetches a hefty price for its rarity. Pellitine cacao and coffee beans are also a staple in any self-respecting chef's kitchen.

In terms of livestock, you'll find guar, poultry, beef, and goat to be popular, as well as wild game like jerboas, terror birds, antelope, and addaxes. Game meat can often be purchased from Bandaari nomads, who hunt the animals themselves. Whether fresh or dried into jerky, who doesn't want some moon sugar-cured addax jerky for the road?

Nords

Foreigners in Skyrim are often shocked by the range of produce we're capable of producing in our cold and often inhospitable lands. Fish and horker are consumed in great amounts locally, as well as being one of the Province's major exports. Goat from the Reach, cattle from Whiterun, and honey from the Rift are always in high demand.

Apples and jazbay grapes are probably the most valuable crops in Skyrim, followed by wheat and other fruits and vegetables. The former two are used in cider and wine, both of which are valued across the Provinces.

Orcs

Wrothgarian Orcs differ from Betnikh Orcs who differ from Wood Orcs and so on... so in this case, it really varies. For Wrothgarian Orsimer, echatere is the main source of meat and milk, while in Betnikh it's fish, and in Valenwood, timber mammoth. All these groups also enjoy game, from rabbit and wolf to pheasant and venison, which features heavily in regional Orcish cuisine. Wild honey from Betnikh is also another notable animal product that bears mention here.

In terms of crops, there aren't many of note aside from valuable herbs and spices. Frost mirriam, which is also loved by alchemists, and wrathberries, known for their violently bitter taste unless prepared correctly, are two of the most important plants you'll find for sale at any stronghold.

Redguards

I've said it before and I'll say it again: goat, goat, and more goat. Unless you're a coastal Redguard with access to seafood, it's likely that your main source of meat and milk will come from goats. Whether it's feta or kebabs, it's almost always goat meat, as they wander all through Hammerfell like they own the place. However, Redguards are also renowned for breeding horses, and the uh... faulty ones are generally turned into food. Spiced horse blood sausage and spreadable horse 'nduja are a staple in households across Hammerfell.

With staple crops, you'll find that corn, coconuts, palm fruit and oil, bananas, coffee, cinnamon and other spices, and cocoa are plentiful. These are all consumed in great amounts within the Province, but are also highly prized across Tamriel.

#Asks #the elder scrolls #tes #food #World building #worldbuilding #Staple crops

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depressedhouseplant · 4 days

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🔞 In Darkness I Found You 🔞

Chapter 17

Tags: None

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asked the next morning when he brought Jina in for her morning feeding.

“Yeah, I just had a super early morning. A couple of the horses needed more exercise than usual,” Hobi said.

“I was wondering where you were when I woke up around 5 to feed Jina,” Yoongi said.

“I, um, can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer,” Hobi said.

“Okay,” Yoongi replied suspiciously.

“How did you end up at the farm, like, in the first place?” Hobi asked.

Please let it be a lie. Please.

Yoongi dropped his head and Hobi saw him slightly tighten his grip on Jina.

“I ran away from home when I was 15 and made some pretty bad choices. I met Jimin one day and he told me that he could help me. He could give me a place to stay and I wouldn’t have to worry about living on the street anymore,” Yoongi replied.

“Did you ever…?” Hobi started.

“No, never. I think he just trolled those areas for Omegas he thought he could trick. He tricked me,” Yoongi replied.

“So you weren’t a virgin when you went to the farm?” Yoongi shook his head. “Why lie to me?”

“What was I gonna say? I ran away and sold myself for almost a year until Jimin found me? That I’m a whore and I killed Jina’s twin,” he started to cry. Jina started to fuss because Yoongi was getting upset. “I’m sorry, little one.”

“Here, let’s take a breather,” Hobi gently took Jina from Yoongi. He tucked Yoongi under his arm and rested Jina on his chest. “I’m not judging you, love. It doesn’t matter what happened. We’re here now. We’re a family. I’m sorry I asked and that was wrong of me. Nothing more to worry about.”

Yoongi was sobbing into Hobi’s shoulder. Hobi felt like a complete jackass. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should’ve just let it go. But what Jimin had said wouldn’t get out of his head.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I love you, Yoongi. Please know that I love you no matter what,” Hobi kissed the top of his mate’s head.

“I love you, too,” he sniffed.

“And I love you, Jina,” Hobi said to the squirming baby on his chest. “I think your uncles are trying very hard to give you a little cousin. They’ve made the house all kinds of stinky.”

“Do you want another one?” Yoongi asked.

“Honey, she isn’t even a month old yet. Let’s worry about more pups when this one is a little older. Right cutie?” The baby made a cooing sound. “She agrees with me.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi said.

“You’re welcome. For whatever you’re thanking me for,” Hobi replied.

“Can I still blame my hormones?” Yoongi asked.

“Absolutely,” Hobi held them together like the Alpha he was supposed to be. His hurt, ashamed, and exhausted mate and a pup that wasn’t his. Hobi didn’t care. He didn’t have to question if he would kill to protect them. He already had. The SWAT team arrived on time to discover Jimin’s dead body in the pen with the Omegas. They were taken into police custody to see if any of them had been reported missing. Hobi wasn’t thrilled with that idea, but Namjoon assured him that he’d personally see that they were taken care of. When the SWAT team asked what happened, Namjoon simply shrugged and said “Guess he got too cocky.” Hobi had rushed home so he didn’t have time to talk to Namjoon about what happened. He made a mental note to call him later.

“Hobi?” Yoongi’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“Hm?” he noised.

“I asked if you wanted to go for a walk. Yuna and Tae said I need to move around more,” Yoongi replied.

“But it’s cold,” Hobi protested.

“We can bundle up. You’ll live,” Yoongi grinned.

“Fine, let’s go for a walk. Whose side are you on?” he looked down at Jina. She balled up one of her tiny fists and brushed his chin.

“Punching me already? You are gonna take after your Omega Daddy.” Hobi teased.

“I’ve never punched you,” Yoongi stuck his tongue out. You might if you knew what I did.

“Alright, let’s go,” Hobi got up and went to get everyone bundled up to walk around a 50 acre horse farm at the end of November.

As they were walking, Hobi’s phone dinged. It was a text from Namjoon.

Namjoon : Can you talk?

“Who is it?” Yoongi asked.

“Namjoon. Guess I should see what he wants,” Hobi replied. “You two keep going. I’ll catch up with you.”

“Okay,” Yoongi sounded suspicious but left Hobi to detour into one of the barns.

“What’s up?” he asked when Namjoon picked up.

“Just wanted to update you on the status of the Omegas we found,” he replied. “A couple had been reported missing, but most were runaways or former street hookers.”

“And?” Hobi prompted.

“They aren’t too happy with the fact we took them away after they…you know,” Namjoon said.

“So what? All they wanted was new management?” Hobi asked.

“I honestly don’t know. I wanted your opinion before I did anything,” Namjoon said.

“What are the options? I assume going back out on the street isn’t one of them,” Hobi replied.

“Some former farms have been converted into surrogacy centers. They’re heavily regulated and monitored for any shady behavior. It’s cheaper than adoption and there’s no actual sex involved. The Alphas donate sperm and the Omegas are impregnated that way,” Namjoon explained.

“You think they’d be open to that? Where are these centers?” Hobi wasn’t sure this wouldn’t devolve right back to what it was before.

“Most are urban, but they’re considering expanding to more rural areas for the couples who can’t make it to a large city regularly,” Namjoon told him.

“Would they actually recycle that prison?” Hobi was beginning to feel nauseous.

“Not that location exactly, but in a similar area. I think this is a good compromise. The ones who either don’t want to go back or don’t have anywhere to go stay in a controlled environment. No Alphas are allowed on the grounds unless they’re medical professionals or couples picking up a pup. I need your support on this, Hobi. After what happened I don’t want to do anything that will start the cycle all over again,” Namjoon was bordering on desperate.

“Who monitors these facilities?” he asked.

“I can become an Investigator pretty easily. Then I’m allowed to pick my team. I wanted you and Tae,” Namjoon told him. Hobi thought for a moment. This seemed like the best option for the Omegas who had nowhere else to go.

“You swear it wouldn’t go right back to what it was?” Hobi asked.

“I visited one this morning. It was clean, the Omegas were well fed and in good health, and the staff was more than willing to show me every area. Some of them were definitely Breeders before because I saw some…obvious…injuries. Please Hobi? You’re one of the few I trust to help me with this. If Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook are up for it we can even let them tour the facilities to make sure they don’t see something that we miss,” Namjoon said. Hobi sighed.

“Sure, I’ll help you,” he replied.

“Thank you! I’ll start filling out the paperwork when we hang up,” Namjoon sounded practically giddy.

“Send me the information and I’ll sign it when I get it,” Hobi said.

“I promise you won’t regret this,” Namjoon said.

“I hope I don’t,” Hobi replied. When he hung up the phone and turned around, Yoongi was behind him with a blank look on his face.

“I knew you wouldn’t listen,” he said.

#minors dni #bts fanfic #bts sope #omegaverse

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sweetbeagaming · 23 days

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First Annual Trout Derby 🎣

#i love this event a lot #fishing is one of my fave things in game #and i get prizes!#stardew valley #sdv #stardew #stardew posting #stardew farmer #sdv 1.6 #sdv 1.6 spoilers #honey acres farm

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rrcenic · 10 months

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hey you guys should read the winnie the pooh/bee movie (with a camp camp reference because i was a basic bitch) short horror story i wrote in 7th grade

cw for blood, violence, substance abuse, addiction, and overall gore/horror

Morning dawned on the little cottage in the Hundred Acre Wood. The little yellow furry yawned, stretched his legs, and slowly waddled to his bathroom. He looked in the mirror and saw Winnie the Pooh, an innocent little bear.

Well, at least, he used to be an innocent little bear.

It had been 6 years since Christopher Robin left for boarding school.

6 years since the honey addiction started.

6 years since he started trying to find his father.

8 months ago, Owl’s black market trade of honey smuggled in from America had gone dry. Apparently, the bees had revolted against the honey companies. But Pooh had enough.

Until he didn't.

Honey substitutes kept him sane, but they weren't enough. He had psychotic breakdowns, he was shaky, unstable. And worst of all: Christopher Robin never responded to his texts.

Piglet couldn't take it anymore. He did some digging online and found records of possible families. He gave Pooh the address of an investigation bureau.

So he traveled to America, with a note to the office. But at this point he’d given up on finding his family. He now had one goal in mind:

Find honey

Pooh pulled his black hoodie over his head as he jumped out of the white van. He quickly clipped the barbed wires and snuck into the abandoned honey farm. Sneaking in was highly illegal, and just the slightest creak made

Pooh jump. He took a deep breath and kept walking.

The abandoned hives had started to decay, the honey had rotted and turned red. In this lighting, Pooh could have sworn it looked like...blood…

No! he thought, It's just my imagination…

He stopped, and sniffed, his little black nose sticking tentatively out of his hood, his yellow snout scrunched up...did he smell what he thought he smelled?

Honey!

Pooh ran towards the hive, forgetting about the idea of staying secret. Sweet, sweet honey! He began to shovel it into his mouth, when he heard a small voice.

“Hey! Don't you know the laws!” shouted a bee, standing there with his arms crossed.

“It's just a little honey!” Pooh pouted.

“If you take another mouthful of that honey, you will forever pay the consequences!” the bee continued. “You’ll face the wrath of me, Barry B. Benso-”

Pooh had run out of patience. He quickly stomped on the bee and continued eating, convinced that the bee was dead and he wouldn't be bothered again. He scampered over to another hive.

Behind him, Barry’s hand twitched.

When he was full, he filled his van with as many jars of honey as possible. Pooh knew he had to get out of there fast, so while he left, he didn't pay attention to the 25 mph speed limit sign, and was half-an-hour away from the old farm when he first heard the police sirens. He sighed and pulled over.

However, the police officer immediately noticed the sticky red stuff on his yellow paws. “And one more question,” the officer asked after Pooh received the ticket. “What is that?”

Pooh panicked. Honey was illegal now, and he didn't want to be put in jail. “Uhhhh, corn syrup?” he cringed.

“Oh, really?” the officer scoffed. “It looks suspiciously like... blood.”

“It's not! I swear!” Pooh shouted.

The officer grabbed his paw. “Wait, is this honey?”

Pooh hit the gas

He quickly found a place to sleep. A dingy motel, the color of mildew, that smelled like wet socks. Pooh was so tired from the police chase and the jet lag, and the honey effects were starting to wear off. Pooh sighed and rolled over. He tried to sleep, but a little scratching noise on the wall kept him awake. Eventually, he sighed, took a swig of honey, and stood up.

“What is that noise?” he asked. Pooh looked over to the small, dirty window. It was open, and there was a hole in the bug screen. Small enough for a bee to fit in...

I'm just paranoid, he assured himself. Barry is dead. I killed him...didn't I?

“You didn't do a good job of it.” a buzzing whisper echoed around the room.

“Barry?! How are you alive! How do you know what I'm thinking?!” Pooh screeched.

“Oh Pooh, I was never alive. I’m not a normal bee.” Barry smiled a crooked, dead smile. “And you’ve destroyed my mortal body and taken my bee syrup. I'm here for revenge.”

“B-b-but where are you?” Pooh whimpered.

“We are right outside your window” the voice responded.

We? Pooh though. But he’s only one bee...

Pooh looked outside and let out a shriek.

Swarms of bees crowded around his small window. And they looked intent on revenge. Pooh quickly hid the jar behind his back and slammed the window.

Two hours had passed and Pooh was still cowering in his room. Sure, he had stolen some honey. Sure, he had squished the lead bee. But how did Barry get here so fast? Who were the other bees? Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him.

Pooh cracked the window. “Uhm, so sorry to bother you, but...who are you?” he whispered cautiously.

“We are Barry B. Benson, the reincarnation of every bee you’ve ever stolen honey from, and we are here to make sure it never happens again. Barry NEVER forgets. In fact, we are already on the path to vengeance.” the bees screeched in unison.

“What-what have you done?” Pooh whimpered.

Barry smiled. “Why do you think Christopher Robin won't talk to you?”

“H-he’s at school, he may have forgotten-”

The bees began to cackle as Barry held up a rotted head. Pooh’s vision clouded. No, no, no-

He was paralized by the indescribable sight.

(authors note: i edited this at age 12 im sorry)

Pooh ran.

The flight back is in 20 minutes, Pooh told himself. I’ll be fine, it'll be fine. He had all of his honey hidden under his fur coat, which blended in with his fuzzy yellow figure. As soon as he could see the JFK check-in, he slammed on the breaks and ran for it. Through check-in, through security, through international customs, and to Gate 1B of British Airways. The stewardess offered him a cup of coffee. He panicked and threw it back at her, covering her in boiling liquid and mumbling something about wanting tea. The seatbelt signs came on, and Pooh relaxed. He was safe now, there was no way Barry could find him here.

On the back of the plane, a woman asked the grumpy stewardess why there were thousands of bees outside her window.

Cameron Campbell was not your average man. He’d had several crumbling careers, including a failed fast-food chain called McCampbells, a Russian honey-smuggling business, a mini war with Kentucky, and a summer camp. But he’d spent his time in jail towards becoming a better person, and was ready for his first day as a co-pilot. His partner had gone to use the bathroom and left him steering the plane. He smiled, his grey mustache shining in the sun, and turned on the speaker.

“This is your captain speaking. We’re currently passing over the Atlantic Ocean. That island you can see in the distance is-”

He was momentarily distracted by a half-decomposed bee holding an ax above his head. Cameron dropped the speaker and screamed. “WHAT?! WHO ARE YOU- PLEASE DON'T KILL ME, PLEASE-”

With the speed of a bullet, it lodged itself deep into Cameron’s eye. With one last scream, his body went limp. Barry B. Beson was deep in Cameron’s brain. Barry concentrated hard, and bees swarmed Cameron’s eyes. Barry was now in complete control. Cameron’s body smiled and steered straight down, towards the ocean.

“We apologize for the noise and turbulence. Please remain calm. Everything will be fine.”

He clicked off the microphone and locked the cockpit door.

Pooh knew what had happened. He didn't know how it had happened, but he knew that voice. Barry had found him. Pooh ran as fast as he could, but he knew it was pointless. He was trapped.

The bees began to swarm throughout the plane, attacking the other passengers. Pooh hid under a seat, in an empty dog cage. The buzzing suddenly stopped. Pooh looked up.

There were people sprawled everywhere, covered in stinger scratches and dripping with red. Pooh tried not to vomit at the sight. A small child stirred. Pooh ran over, trying to see if he was alive.

“H-hello? Are you quite well?” he whispered.

The child turned around. In her empty eyes, Pooh could see the familiar glare of Barry B. Benson.

“Oh, I feel just nifty, Winnie benson.” it creaked softly.

“B-Benson? What?” Pooh stuttered.

“That's right, pooh. Why do you think you like honey so much? It runs in the family.” Barry’s voice echoed.

In a way, Pooh realized he’d succeeded. He’d found his father. But all these people would be alive if he hadn't.

The lifeless bodies of the passengers stood up and smiled at Pooh, blood dripping from their empty sockets. There was nowhere Pooh could run. He slammed on the cockpit door, knowing it would make no difference. Tears streamed down his face. No, no, no, this wasn't how it ended!

The door opened. Pooh ran inside and leaned against the door. He had about 3 minutes till the swarm penetrated the metal barrier.

Pooh curled up into a ball and screamed. He shouldn't have come here at all. Should have listened to his friends. There was no one to blame but himself. All the bees he’d killed had come back to find him. He’d tried to hide from it, but it was true. There was nowhere he could go where his past couldn't catch up. Nowhere he could run where his problems couldn't find him.

He noticed the parachute bag, 5 feet away from him. There was still hope for the little yellow bear! He wiped his nose, then quickly strapped the bag on and opened the emergency exit door. Pooh thought about everything he had to live for, took a deep breath, and jumped.

Pooh was falling fast. He fearfully pulled the parachute. It opened and-

He kept falling. Pooh panicked and looked up. The parachute was full of little, bee-shaped holes. In one last moment of paralyzing fear for what would happen now, he managed to squeak, “Oh, bother!” before he hit the water.

They never found any trace of Winne the Pooh ever again, except for a small, empty jar of honey with his TikTok username scrolled on the bottom. They never found the bees, either. But legend tells us that every time you take the life of a bee, its soul joins the ever-growing form of Barry B. Benson.

And Barry never forgets.

#i found it when going through old old docs and it made me giggle #i got an A because my teacher was lazy #nics stuff #winnie the pooh #the bee movie #camp camp

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lordoftherazzles · 2 years

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Day 02: Changing of the leaves AU Verse: Sweeter Than Honey (Plot Bunny)

Bilbo Baggins runs a successful honey farm on the west side of the Brandywine River. Though his peaceful days of honey handicraft grow tense as a new logging company, owned by one Thror Oakes, draws closer to his land. It’s how he meets Thorin, a lumberjack living under the thumb of his grandfather, the owner. They should have been adversaries - the two are on opposite sides of nature, but as it is so often said: opposites attract. (2872 words)

I’m cheating and using #fotfictober as an opportunity to introduce another plot bunny (that really doesn’t tie into the prompt today) which can, and like will, be used for prompts for this month!! It’s a fun universe that both @stardryad-random and I have been gushing about together for a few months now!

If you want to see any specific prompts/AU verses, send me an ask!

I’m primarily using the universes I’ve already created (i.e. modern au fics like bookbinder//songwriter, where the shadows lie, etc.)

This by no means mean they’ll be canon to that particular story - like what you read? Maybe it could be canon.

These are small drabbles and I will not be spending a ton of time on them as I am working on other projects.

Check out the rest of my plot bunnies here!

Bilbo Baggins was a man of routine. He enjoyed his morning tea with honey, read the paper, and then tended to his sanctuary. This meant gardening most of all, ensuring the plants around his land were well taken care of and the deadly weeds were fended off. His idea of creating a proper environment for the local bee population was likely far different than that of a properly educated beekeeper. Ever since he had been taught how to create his own honey, his fascination with the little creatures had skyrocketed, and a new passion had overcome him.

Bees were an endangered species, and without them, what sort of honey would he be putting in his morning tea? How would the flowers get pollinated? There were so many useful things from the yellow and black creatures, and frightening as they might have been to others, Bilbo looked at them more as hardworking friends that deserved a little something in return for what they gave the human population.

Pruning often led him outside of his borders, and the few acres he did own led into a heavily wooded forest. Some of the flowers beyond his own gardens attracted a fair amount of bumbles and honeybees, so tending to them was often in his routine as well–though perhaps not daily.

With a basket hooked over his arm and a sun hat over his head, Bilbo was trotting away from his regular grounds to those more foreign and unstable, admiring the slight change to the color of the leaves as he did so. Wild animals and hikers tended to move through these parts more often than not, but so long as the hives were undisturbed and the lavender stalks and wildflowers were left alone, he didn’t care much. It wasn’t as if he could protect all bees or their environment, but even those outside of his care deserved something.

There were a few hives he knew of in some of the trees that often had a few honey bees or bumble bees roaming about, and he’d leave behind a small cup of sugar water whenever he could to ensure those hard-working working bees got rejuvenated whenever they felt weak or tired–it was how the bees in his honey farm survived alongside the plants. So when he approached the first hive, there was no swatting at the buzzing near his ears or a particularly large bumble that had settled on the brim of his hat, especially when he’d put two small cups of sugar water near the hive itself. An offering, or an olive branch, if anything.

But rest assured, Bilbo Baggins had managed to deal with stings on more than one occasion, whether he had been a kind neighbor or not.

“There you go, fellas. Keep up the good work,” Bilbo grinned, hearing the buzzing as if the bees were giving him a friendly response, and as he moved to trudge through the foliage, a sharp sound made his ears twitch and his expression flinch. Pausing in his steps, Bilbo pulled his hat off with a lone bumble still resting atop it. “Perhaps…something else is out here?” He asked, but as expected, no response came. Sadly, bumblebees weren’t gifted in the art of speech, but that never stopped him from trying–to say that Bilbo’s life was a tad bit lonely would be an understatement.

The bees gave him something to be passionate about.

Another sharp sound sounded off, and Bilbo couldn’t quite make out what it was. Securing his hat, and temporary buzzing hitchhiker, back onto his head, he moved further to investigate. Each step was cautious, careful of where to step, and not draw too much alarm. If anything, Bilbo had mastered the art of silence while living out in these wooded parts–like the quietest of critters living among predators and outsmarting them every single time.

The sounds became clearer and louder with each forward step, until Bilbo perched himself behind a tall oak tree, peeking around the trunk as the sounds had ceased and he was just staring at the back of…well, not a hiker or environmentalist by any stretch.

A taller fellow sporting red and black plaid for a top, jeans, and boots, but what really grabbed Bilbo’s attention was the mop of dark curls pulled back, alongside the exposed forearms that led to heavy thick gloves and–was that an axe?! That explained the sounds. The sound of an axe splintering a tree trunk in reckless abandon. Thankfully, the trunk hadn’t been abused too much, but it looked as if marks were being left on some of the trees in the area for…purposes that Bilbo didn’t understand.

As that axe was pulled back and slammed into a fresh trunk that had once been unscathed, Bilbo nearly squealed as he swallowed his gasp with a strangled sound of annoyance.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” He’d cried out uncomfortably, watching the axe wielder's shoulders tighten, and maybe he even jumped a little with being startled, but Bilbo couldn’t find himself caring enough to apologize.

“Marking the trunks, but to tell you the honest truth I wouldn’t swear by it,” came a sarcastic response.

Bilbo could feel his ears burning, and as his eyes lowered towards those thick boots the tree offender had been wearing, his heart sank. Below those boots were a few wildflowers that had blossomed within the shade of the trees overhead. Shadowed by leaves, but maintaining enough sunlight on some good days, they never stood a chance against those uncaring leather soles on top of them.

“You’re not supposed to be out here. This is private property,” Bilbo grumbled in response, and it was this grumble that had the other man turning to face him properly, an axe perched against his shoulder and giving him a glower to match Bilbo’s own. A glower settled within sky blue eyes that made Bilbo feel a tad weak in the knees, much like an overworked bee in need of sugar water.

Sadly, a sugary concoction would not be his saving grace today.

“You’re right, it is.” Technically it wasn’t his property personally, but the logging company that had relocated out this way certainly had its sticky fingers all over it–or so he thought. “This is Oakes’ property, but half a mile to the west? Not mine.”

“No, this is my property, all the way out to the Brandywine River.”

“I’m beyond the river?” The words were faint and in disbelief, and Bilbo wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at them. Or both at the same time. Whatever annoyed look this blue-eyed menace had been wearing had fallen, looking much like a lost child without a map to find his way.

“You are,” Bilbo grit out, tilting his head a bit and looking at the markings on the tree trunks once more. It wasn’t so much that the trees were being abused for their lumber, but to help mark a path for this grown-ass man to find his way back. It was hilarious, just as it was annoying. “Are you lost, then? Even if that’s the case, I’ll have you be more appreciative of my trees and not wound them with your axe, thank you very much.”

“I’m not lost!”

There was a pause after that snarl, and while Bilbo had been ready to shrug his shoulders and go about the rest of his morning, it was the softer tone that matched the lost look that kept him rooted, much like the mighty oak he had been peeking from behind earlier.

“But if I was…which direction would I take to get back to the main road?”

Hilariously adorable and far less annoying now.

“You want to head southwest,” Bilbo informed lamely with a touch of amusement coloring his tone, watching this fellow’s cheeks form a dusting of rose atop them. “I can show you the way if you like, Mister…?”

“Thorin.” But there was another pause, which seemed to be frequent when it came to uncertainty from this axe-wielding fellow. “Thorin Oakes.”

“Oh, so you’re the one playing lumberjack just across the river? You do realize there are those of us out here who rely on these forest lands for all sorts of things, correct? ”

“I’m not playing anything. And if you want to complain, take it up with management, Oakes Logging isn’t mine, I just work for it.” Although Thorin stood to inherit it and the lumber mill once Thror kicked the bucket.

“Maybe I will,” Bilbo huffed, but beckoned for Thorin to follow him anyway. “This way, unless you want to play Mountain Man out here and abuse my trees some more?”

Much as Thorin wanted to snark back, nothing clever left his mouth as he simply inhaled deeply before trudging along to follow his unexpected savior.

“I’m Bilbo, by the way.” After all, Thorin had given his name, and it was only polite–even if introductions probably should have come sooner rather than later. “I don’t often find hikers this close to the farm, usually they’re closer to the river. These trees can get you turned around fairly easily though, I will give you that,” Bilbo blabbered.

“Why do you think I was marking them?” Thorin rolled his eyes, even if his method of keeping track of where he was didn’t exactly help. How many times had he passed that sturdy-looking oak tree anyway? “Sorry.”

Now that was interesting. Bilbo arched a brow as he looked at Thorin and gauged the other man’s expression. Those bright blue eyes that rivaled the sky were downcast, an axe perched back against a shoulder, and a gloved hand gripping at the handle like a vice. Something in him seemed…stressed out, to say the least. Or perhaps embarrassed? It wasn’t like Bilbo could blame him, even if the presence of a logging company so close to his sanctuary was bothersome enough. That wasn’t Thorin’s fault.

A small smile curved onto Bilbo’s lips, adjusting his hat by the brim and ensuring that Thorin got a flash of that smile for reassurance. “It’s quite alright, there was no ill intent, and I’m certain the bees won't come looking for you…this time. You’re lucky you didn’t disturb one of the hives, they can be quite vicious, just as they can be sweet.”

“You’re something of a bee expert?”

“Sort of. I run the honey farm on this property, and I look out for the bees outside of my care, they are endangered, you know.” There was always an opportunity to educate someone on the honeybees, or any other kind of bee that buzzed around these parts, and should someone be willing to listen, that was even better. “Some of the trees on this side of the river house hives, just as some of the wildflowers are perfect for the bumbles to pollinate. They keep me in business, but…that’s hardly the important part.”

“So even if you didn’t make a single coin off of these critters, you’d still be doing this…whatever it is you’re doing?” Thorin sounded and looked bewildered. Having been raised in a household where one worshiped the almighty dollar over ‘the right thing to do’, it was something of a foreign concept. It sounded like charity work, and while that had never been something the Oakes were keen on dipping their toes into, Thorin couldn’t say he minded the passionate feelings that radiated from Bilbo. It was almost inspiring, which was confirmed when Bilbo merely bobbed his head with an agreeable hum.

Everyone had something to work towards. It sounded like Bilbo worked toward restoring the bee population, or at least protecting what was left while getting something sweet out of it as well–whether that was honey or money, it didn’t really matter. Just as Thorin was working hard to please those around him and keep up a good reputation for the family name. It wasn’t an easy thing, nor was it exactly the most fun of things, but it helped him get by.

The sound of sticks and twigs beneath boots was the only thing heard for a time, allowing Bilbo to check out his surroundings, without really looking at Thorin in the process. Not to say he didn’t cast a glance or two towards the taller fellow from time to time, but he’d been taught early on that staring was rude, no matter how much he may have wanted to. Those striking blue eyes and the moppy hair all thrown back, Thorin certainly looked like the perfect display of his idea of what a woodworking man might look like. The beard, the flannel, and of course the ever noticeable forearms.

Thorin wasn’t nearly as shy when it came to staring, and the burn of that stare could be felt and made Bilbo’s spine tingle a bit.

“I’ve always loved honey,” Thorin blurted out, a grin starting to crawl across his lips and a flush taking over for his previous embarrassment. “Then again, I love sweet things. Always have. Cakes, berries…practically any sweet imaginable–”

“You’d love the honey cakes. My mother had a recipe for them that’s quite the hit around here, and they’re even better when drizzled with flavored honey,” Bilbo grinned proudly, meeting Thorin’s stare and feeling the warmth of a blush moving across his cheeks when met with a grin in return.

“You’ll have to let me be the judge of that, I suppose,” Thorin mused, tapping a gloved finger against his chin with his free hand, a low rumble of a satisfied hum sounding off in his chest at the thought of sweets topped with something even sweeter. “Maybe I’ll stop by sometime.”

“So long as you don’t get hopelessly lost, that is.”

“I wasn’t lost.”

“It’s okay, I won’t say anything, your secret is safe with me.” Bilbo teased with a wink which was…very unlike him on the best of days. He was a proper and respectable fellow, perhaps seen as a bit odd in the eyes of the community, but he had always been on his best behavior. But throw some lost lumberjack into his woods and apparently, it brought out his inner flirty self, even if he was a bit shy about it. “But…you’re welcome to. It might be nice to get an outsider’s perspective, after all.”

As soon as Thorin’s boots hit the rock instead of dirt and twigs, a small wave of relief washed over him, half dragging his feet along the gravel at the side of the road and staring at Bilbo with something akin to a dopey set of moon-eyes as Frerin might call it. Their walk along the side of the road was quiet, a few exchanging glances and shy smiles quickly turning opposite directions, and neither was too courageous to go any further than their conversation already.

Thankfully, someone else decided to break the shy silence rather quickly.

“There you are!”

Turning sharply as that doe-eyed look melted, Thorin’s gaze landed on Dwalin–the other logger, and one of his best friends, that he’d come out here with in the first place.

“Dwalin,” Thorin greeted with a small nod of his head, waiting for the onslaught coming his way as his bald burly friend had been leaning against the truck for who knows how long.

“It’s been forty-five minutes I’ve been standing here waiting on you. We were just supposed to scout the area, and you wander off and get yourself lost again,” Dwalin griped.

“I wasn’t lost.”

“This is the second time you’ve gotten lost out there Thorin. Now can we go? We were supposed to be back in town twenty minutes ago and I’m fucking starving.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going, stop bitching and get in the truck.” Turning his attention back to Bilbo, Thorin shrugged one of his shoulders in a half-assed manner. “Thanks for the save.” The moon-eyes were back, complete with a little twinkle of admiration.

“Anytime, Mountain Man.” And boy did those hazel eyes sparkle with something both delighted and mischievous, Bilbo couldn’t help it. “I do hope you’ll stop by to judge those honey cakes.”

“Absolutely.”

“Hey, moon-eyes! Let’s go the guys are waiting for us!” Dwalin barked from the passenger seat of a muddy truck.

“See you around, Bee-bo.” Thorin’s free hand shot up to flick at the brim of Bilbo’s hat, tugging it down slightly in the process, and that alone felt like a forward and playful gesture which was also unlike him. Turning on his heels and striding towards the truck with a hangry passenger, Thorin was halted fairly quickly at the shout of his name.

“Oh! And Thorin!?”

Twisting around slightly to catch Bilbo in his sights, another generous dusting of pink covered his face.

“Welcome to the neighborhood.” Bilbo tipped his hat purposely this time and stood to the side of the road until he was certain the trespasser turned flirty-interest had cleared the area without getting turned around this time. A small bounce in his step, and it was time to return to his daily bee-related duties, all while thinking about a set of eyes that put the clear blue sky overhead to shame.

#razpb #the hobbit #bagginshield #thilbo #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #thorin x bilbo #modern!au #razzywrites #fic: sweeter than honey #beekeeper bilbo #lumberjack thorin

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nessieart · 4 days

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tooth&claw chapter 3

Read TEETH first to catch up

t&c masterlist

Previous chapter

Wc: 3.4k

Pairings: Tony Stark x Shifter!reader

Age of Ultron

Warning: Canon typical violence, language!, no y/n used. Nicknames: poppy/flowers

“What happened?” You look around at the group of disheveled Avengers. They’ve certainly seen better days. Clint is helping Natasha toward a two-story farmhouse, everyone else trailing behind as you and Tony bring up the rear.

The endless sea of golden wheat seems to glow in the sunlight. There's a forest surrounding the few acres of land around the farm and wheat fields.

It's beautiful.

“Wanda,” Tony grimaces, “her powers messed most of the group up pretty bad.” Tony looks over at Bruce, his eyes full of concern for his friend. “others, well,” he shrugs.

“Clint and I avoided the bad Vulcan mind meld, it seems. Cap and Thor seem to be doing alright.” Tony brings a hand around your shoulders, pulling you in and guiding you to catch up with the group.

“What is this place?” Thor asks as you all climb the stairs and gather on the porch.

“A safe house?” Tony shrugs.

“Let's hope,” Clint pushes the front door open, leading you all into a spacious living room. “Honey, I’m home,” he calls out.

A very pregnant woman comes out, surprise on her face as she takes in the multitude of people in her living room.

You feel dizzy, and the ringing in your ears is loud, there is muffled voices conversing around you. And then you hear the peal of laughter, small feet stampeding down the stairs, and two children running and hugging Clint. It's beautifully domestic. You want that, and it makes you sick.

“I - I need some air,” you rush out of the room, before anyone can stop you, and out of the house. The slap of the screen door sounds behind you as you take a running start off the porch and into the grass.

The Shift is fast, and you don't give the tears time to fall from your eyes before you're out of sight.

The ground is wet on the pads of your paws as you weave through the trees, the smells of the forest calm your frayed nerves a little.

Why were the visions Wanda showed you so vivid? Why show you something you can never have?

A few miles of mindless running, you hear the sound of rushing water. Taking your time now that you've had a chance to outrun the panic, you find the source of water. There's a small waterfall that crashes into a pond, then flows down a river.

It's serene and almost makes you forget about the outside world; what happened just a few hours ago.

You make it back to the farmhouse an hour later, leaves and twigs clinging to your fur, but you don't mind. You can see Steve and Tony chopping wood out front, so you slowly make your way towards them. Paws dragging you forward and head hanging low.

As you near the two of them, they seem to be in a heated argument, which isn't a new thing with them.

Steve picks up a log and rips it in half with his hands, “Every time someone tries to win a war before it starts, innocent people die. Every time.”

You give a soft bark, the two men whirl around to face you. Tony's face is full of relief at the sight of you. Steve's concerned eyes scan you for any injuries, and when he can't find any, he just nods and puts his hands on his hips.

“God I was so worried,” Tony says as he hugs you around the neck. He only had to bend a little to engulf you in a tight embrace, your head resting over his shoulder. He stands and runs his hands through your dark fur.

“Um, Mr Stark?” Clint's wife cautiously comes into view. She's eyeing you with concern, and then she looks from Steve to Tony. She must realize you don't mean any harm as she continues, “uh, Clint said you wouldn't mind, but our tractor, it doesn't seem to want to start at all. I thought maybe you might…”

Tony nods, “yeah, I'll give her a kick.” He runs another hand over your head, picking out a leaf as he does. He turns to Steve and points at his small pile of chopped wood, “don't take from my pile.”

Steve says your name, and your head shoots up to him. He gestures to Clint's wife. “She's usually more human looking than this. This is Laura, Clint's wife.”

When you take a step forward, she shuffles back away from you, a hand going to her belly, so you stop, ears falling back and tail low. Steve comes to stand next to you to put a reassuring hand on your back.

Laura nods hesitantly and heads back into the house.

Steve heaves a sigh, “Well that could have gone better. Are you ok?” You heave a sigh as well, flopping to the ground with a grunt. He sits on a log next to you, and you lift your head to rest on his knee. He picks the twigs from your fur.

“Wanda got to me, too,” he murmurs after a moment, eyes unseeing and distant. “I saw Peggy. It was after the war. Like I never put that plane in the ice,” he sighs again. “She was waiting for me, told me we could finally go home, that my fighting was done.”

His eyes find yours after another quiet minute, “I can only imagine what you saw. The way you looked at Laura, and then her kids,” he shakes his head, “you'll get to have that one day. I'm sure of it.”

“Whoa, is that a dog?” Excited little voices followed by quick footsteps reach your ears. You shoot up to all fours and back away behind Steve.

Steve stands and puts his hands out to stop Clint and Laura’s kids, “well, wait a minute, uh–“

Around Steve, you can see Clint running to catch up, his wife on the porch looking concerned. The moment Clint notices you, he grabs his kids to stop them.

“What the hell is that?” He asks. Steve says your name like it’s the most obvious thing, gesturing to you as you step around him. Head low and body ready to run if you need to.

“Jones?” Clint asks. He slowly lowers his hands and his kids all but launch themselves at you. Small hands rake through your fur, petting and rubbing places no one else has.

A purr rumbles out of your chest as you sit and let the kids harass you with affection. Your hind leg lifts to scratch an itch when they hit a good spot. They giggle, and you flop over so they can rub your tummy.

“Can we keep her?” The girl asks. You give an offended bark and Steve laughs.

“I'm gone for 10 minutes, and everyone's getting handsy with my girl?” Tony stands off to the outskirts of the group, hands in his pockets and a fond smile on his face. You're upside down as you look at him, mouth open, tail wagging, and tongue lolling out. He chuckles at you.

He unties the flannel from around his waist and holds it out for you, shaking it a little. Behind him, you notice Nick Fury. Ah, so that's why he was in the barn.

You sit upright, prance around the kids a few times, making them laugh, and make your way to Tony, “time to change, honey,” he holds the flannel up to block the view of others as you Shift. It's large enough that when he wraps it around you, it covers down to your mid thighs. The sleeves are a little too long, so you bunch them up at your elbows, fastening a few buttons so the flannel doesn't fly off your frame.

When you turn around to face the kids, they run over to you, asking a million questions and tugging you along towards the house. You cast a glance at Clint, and he just shrugs, following you as his kids tug at your hands.

Laura stops you, taking her kids by their shirt collars, “ok you two, why don't you let Ms. Jones gets washed up and changed before we give her the 20 questions.” You shoot her a grateful smile, and she nods at you, turning her kids to run into the house. They both give a grumbled aw mooom, but trudge into the house nonetheless.

You're left at the bottom of the porch stairs, worrying your bottom lip as Clint, then Fury, and then Tony climbs up the stairs and into the house. Steve begins his ascent, but you stop him when you grab his wrist. You can see Tony through the screen door, brows furrowed but waiting for you.

“I can't have that life,” you say quietly for Steve. You know he hears you when he grabs your elbow to step closer, “Can't,” your free hand grips the fabric around your middle a little tighter when you look up at him.

A shaky exhale leaves your lips, you feel the burn behind your eyes but don't bother to blink it away, “Bucky was - he” you shake your head, “- the Soldier was there. There was fire and smoke. And him. He said I was supposed to be his.”

“None of that happened. It wasn't real, Flowers,” Steve brushes the tear from your face with his thumb.

“But it was real to me,” You're trembling and you don't realize you've started to cry until Tony pries you away from Steve and carries up the stairs of Clint and Laura's home.

He runs the shower for you and says there's extra clothes on the bed from Laura and Nat.

It was quiet in the room, Tony didn't pry or ask what happened on the porch. He just let you stare off out the window. He'd wait for however long you needed to.

Clint had stuck his head in the room a while later, saying dinner was ready, and to head down when you both were ready.

“We had a daughter,” you say as Tony gets up to leave. He stops short, hand hanging in the air near the doorknob. “I was pregnant, too. Maybe 6 months or so,” a sad smile flits across your face, hand coming up to rub over your stomach again. Tony turns to look at you as you do.

“Were we happy?” He asks softly. His whole body looks like it wants to melt into the floorboards. Tears glisten your eyes, and you nod.

“We could - I mean, if -” Tony clears his throat and rubs his palms down his jeans, “if you wanted to, y’know. Try,” his brows pinch, and he winces. “It um, it sounds nice. The quiet life.”

“It does,” you frown, standing and pacing the room like a caged animal. You tell Tony the rest of the vision you had. He doesn't speak. He looks like he's going to be sick.

“I -” I can't get pregnant, “- I'm sorry I ran away. Earlier,” is all you manage to say.

You didn't pay much attention during dinner. Everyone talked about Ultron and what there was to be done about him.

The plan was laid out. You wanted to go with Steve to South Korea, just to double check on Dr. Cho.

“I'll take Natasha and Clint,” Steve said as everyone else put their gear on.

Tony nodded, “Alright, strictly recon. I'll hit the NEXUS, I'll join you as soon as I can.”

You followed Nat to her room. You're positive she'd have an extra suit for you. She raised her brows at you as you stood in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest.

“I need a suit, I'm going with you,” you left no room to argue. You knew she wouldn't. Natasha smirked at you and tossed you a duffle bag.

After changing, you follow Nat down the stairs. Before you get to the bottom, she flips a knife over and holds it out for you. It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, hand coming up and extending your claws. Nat's gaze never wavers, and she raises her perfectly sculpted brow at you in return. You sigh, taking the blade and stashing it in a holster on your hip.

Fury's voice carries across the landing as you reach the bottom with Natasha. “I'll drop Banner off at the tower. Do you mind if I borrow Ms. Hill?”

“She's all yours, apparently,” Tony's eyes found yours, and his brow creased. “Take Tooth and Claw with you, too.”

A round of protests was heard from you, Natasha and Fury. Your voice is the loudest.

“Absolutely fucking not, I'm going with Steve,” you pointed an aggressive finger at the man. His ears tinge pink as his hands come up in defense. Before he could speak you held up your hand, “it's non negotiable.” And you storm outside toward the quinjet.

Steve cleared his throat as you stomped passed, eyes looking at Fury, “What are you gonna do?”

Nick chuckled at your retreating form, giving a knowing look at Tony and Steve, “I don't know. Something dramatic, I hope.”

You wait outside the quinjet for Tony. You couldn't leave without saying goodbye, no matter how upset you were a minute ago.

“Look, I know you're mad,” his hands come up in defense as you narrow your eyes at him, “I'm just trying to keep you safe.” He stops in front of you, hands rubbing up and down your arms.

“And I've told you I can take care of myself,” you bring a hand to his cheek, running your thumb under the cut beneath his eye. You smile a little, “I'm not the one who's fragile.” He huffs and turns his face into your palm, kissing your wrist.

“Just be careful,” Tony's brow creases with worry.

“You too,” you lean up to kiss him, “and I'm always careful.” Tony scoffs and rolls his eyes in response.

Clint dropped you and Steve off on a rooftop, overlooking the facility you knew Helen Cho would be in.

“Two minutes,” Steve says, the ear communicator also picks up his voice. “Stay close.”

“Couldn't have dropped us off closer, Clint?” You say as you and Steve start jogging.

You hear his laugh over the comms, “now where would the fun in that be?”

Soon, Steve and you enter the facility. It's dark, the axillary lights are on, some blinking in and out. Reaching the lab, you notice broken equipment, glass shattered everywhere, and a few dead bodies.

Steve rushes forward, “Dr. Cho!” He grabs a rag and places it over her bleeding wound.

Cho's breathing is heavy, her skin sheen with sweat, “H-he's uploading himself to the body.”

You kneel down next to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, “where?”

She shakes her head. Steve goes to get up, but Helen stops him, “the real power is inside the Cradle. The gem, its power, is uncontainable. You can’t just blow it up. Get the Cradle to Stark.”

“First I have to find it,” Steve says. “You guys copy that?”

“We did,” you hear Clint.

You step away, pulling out your phone to get emergency medical personnel at your location for Helen and any of the other survivors, if there is any.

“EMTs are 8 minutes out,” you say. Helen nods in appreciation.

“Go,” she tells both you and Steve.

“There,” Clint says as you and Steve exit the building. “Right above you, Cap. On the loop by the bridge. I can take out the driver.”

”Negative, That truck crashes, the gem could level the city,” Steve helps you up the last few rungs of the ladder. “We need to draw out Ultron.”

”Here it comes” You point. The truck is coming in fast. Steve grabs you by the waist, making a quick decision before you have room to protest.

”Just like old times,” as he leaps from the overpass, once his feet hit the trailer, he lets you go, you roll a little, and get your bearings.

”I hate when you do that,” you groan, standing up. Steve maneuvers to the back of the truck, hanging from the back door before it's blown back, and then he flies up and back down onto the dangling trailer door. “Steve?” You peer over the end of the trailer, and he looks up at you.

”Well, he’s definitely angry.”

”You’re no match for him, Cap.”

Steve shakes his head, getting his balance, “Thanks, Barton…” Before Steve could get back up to you, Ultron flips the door off the trailer, and Steve goes flying back into a car.

“Cap?” You call, watching as he swings from a truck mirror and launches himself back onto the truck trailer next to you. He nods his head at you.

“You know what’s in that Cradle?” Ultron appears in front of you, floating with his arm raised and poised to shoot. He fires, the beams bouncing off the shield on Steve’s back. “The power to make real change. And that terrifies you.”

Steve grimaces, “I wouldn't call it a comfort,” pulling his shield off his back and throwing it at Ultron. It bounces off a few times before he kicks it into Ultron’s chest.

Ultron flings the shield away. It flies off and onto the street, “Stop that!” He shoots a plasma beam right into Steve’s chest and sends him flying to the front of the truck. Ultron turns to you, slightly hovering in the air as he makes his way toward you. “Don't make me put you down,” he raises his hand like he’s going to shoot you, but waits. You growl at him, both hands letting go of the metal trailer and turning towards him to strike.

Steve jumps back up on top of the trailer and onto Ultron’s back. You jump on his front and try to dig your claws into any part of him that you can tear away. Ultron throws you off first, and you barely have time to catch yourself before you’re thrown off. You use the momentum to get into the back of the trailer. Two Legionnaire sentries raise their guns on you. The repulsors charge up, but before they could hit you, they fly out at the sounds of the quintet machine gun.

“Cutting it close,” you sigh. “whoa…” the cradle is - well - it’s definitely different.

You tried to disable the upload, but nothing you did mattered. You were getting locked out no matter what buttons you smashed. After a few minutes of trying to force the cradle open, the clamor of shuffling feet and fighting above your head dies down.

The truck jostles, and you feel it lift off the ground.

Shit.

“The package is airborne. I have a clean shot," Clint said into your ear.

“No! I'm still in the truck!” You tell him, trying to find a way to release the cradle.

“What the hell are you...?”

“Just be ready, I'm gonna send it to you,” you take the knife out that Nat gave you, sawing through the straps. It is released one by one, and it begins to slide around the bed of the trailer.

Through the opening, you see the quinjet try to keep level with the back, Clint opens the ramp of the jet, “Ready when you are, Jonesy.”

You exhale a heavy breath, latch onto the cradle, plant your feet on the wall behind you, and kick off as hard as you can. In the air, you free fall for a moment before the cradle lands with a thud in the quinjet.

Before you could climb in, something grabs your foot and yanks you from your position. You fall, and then large metal arms grab you. For a moment, you're relieved, but then when you look up to your supposed savior, it's Ultron, and your blood runs cold.

You struggle to get free, but his arms hold you tighter, “Ah ah, stop squirming. Don't want to drop you.” If robots could smirk, you're sure he would be.

“Where are you taking me?” There's concern over the comms about you, Steve asking if you're ok, Clint and Natasha asking where you are. Before you can answer, metal fingers dig the communicator from your ear and squish it between its fingers.

Red eyes look down at you, a hand coming up to your face, “You'll see.” And the last thing you hear before your vision goes dark is a saddened metallic voice saying, “You'll all see…”

#tony stark x reader #shifter!reader #tony stark x shifter!reader #tony stark imagine #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #nessieart #tooth&claw

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quill-pen · 9 months

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A Quiet Evening

So @rom-e-o surprised me today with some super romantic pics (featured) of my Wolves in the Sims. And I was inspired! Romey, consider this a show of my gratitude!

Thank you very much!

Sims au I guess. Connie's Eb and Bess' are actually twins named Ebenezer (Connie's) and Ebenezar (Bess') because their dad just sucked like that. Bess' boy 99.9% of the time gets called "Wolf" though. Connie's boy gets called "Adonis" 99.9% of the time. The brothers work together in the business, although Wolf is kind of semi-retired from that now and lives on and works a farm with Bess (Scrooge Acres). But at the same time, he still kinda does what he did because he works with a lot of farmers advising them on stocks and business and financials and such. So I guess he kinda retired into an personal advisory position and still technically works.😅 But he wouldn't have it any other way.

He also has long hair, because why not? It's sexy.

Note: Added some extra details to things that don't necessarily match the pictures.

It's not the song they dance to, but I can't not do this:

youtube

Late evening had descended upon Scrooge Acres (FORGET THE WINDOWS IN THE SHOTS--I SAY IT'S EVENING, SO IT'S EVENING!). The evening chores had long since been finished and animals bedded down for the night; Bess' siblings were away for one of their customary nights at Granny Shaw's, the few staff members had been given the evening off, and the picturesque farmhouse was mostly quiet except for the sound of slow, schmaltzy music coming from the house's stereo system. Some male singer with the voice of an angel (and who Bess thought sounded a good deal similar to her hubby) covering Etta James' 'At Last' was currently playing, the singer's passionate, sultry tones oozing like warm honey through the air. And at the center of it all, the Scrooges slowly danced around their front hall, holding each other close as they swayed to the music.

It was date night for them. Well, actually, in truth, they usually ended up having several date nights through the week, but this night--Friday--was officially their set-aside night to do romantic, couple-y, date night things. A night for them to make it so that they were alone and able to enjoy each other's company without any interruptions. A night for them to ditch their comfy work clothes and get dressed and dolled up for themselves and each other. Though it was doubtful the clothes would stay on for very long.

Sometimes on these special nights, the pair would go out on the town, but other nights, even all gussied up to the nines, they opted to stay home and just have a quiet, lovely evening between the two of them. They'd gone with the latter option this night. And as she was slowly danced around the room by her wonderful mate, her head resting on his broad shoulder as he held her close to him, his distinctive scent in her nose and lungs, and his soft warmth enveloping her, Bess came to the conclusion they couldn't have made a better choice.

The song came to a close, and the couple slowed to a stop, parting only just enough to meet each other face-to-face. The dark-haired woman smiled with a blush up into her husband's face. Her heart beat faster and her body grew warmer as he returned her affectionate gaze. "You look so handsome," Bess couldn't help but bashfully murmur as she squeezed his hands. "Like a fairytale king." King--not prince; Ebenezar 'Wolf' Charles Scrooge had surpassed the status of 'prince' long ago.

Wolf's blush burned brighter. Such compliments never failed to turn him into a tomato. "Don't I always?" he gently teased her, winking a mesmerizing slate-blue eye as he smirked.

Bess' blush darkened to the point her cute little freckles popped as she giggled. "Oh, of course, my love!" she jibbed back. "Without a doubt! It's just... you look especially handsome tonight."

And he truly did. The Englishman was decked out in a new smoking jacket, black velvet, soft to the touch, intricate, golden designs embroidered on the chest, lapels, and around the hems. Beneath that, a soft, pressed white shirt and a silken, burgundy cravat subtly patterned with roses smartly knotted about his neck over perfectly creased trousers and shiny leather dress shoes. And his hair--oh, the gorgeous, silky, silvery-steel mane of his that was finally at the length he wanted it after years of growing it out! Flowing loose instead of in the horsetail he usually styled it as, it made the man look as though solidified starlight flowed from his follicles. When her head had been on his shoulder, Bess had caught the unmistakable, fresh scent of peppermint and lavender coming from his hair amid the musky pine, citrus, and black pepper smell of his cologne and aftershave. And Bess couldn't help but think that that's what starlight should have smelled like if it had a scent.

Wolf chuckled in that way that made Bess' heart skip beats and her tummy do acrobatics, and he pulled her close into him again. He lifted a hand beneath her chin to tip her head back a bit more as he gazed deeply into her enchanting midnight blue eyes. "And you look especially beautiful this evening," he purred, his voice throaty and deep, his eyes a bit darker than usual as he lightly traced her pillowy lips with his thumb. "And that's saying quite a bit, considering you always look gorgeous, my Brightness."

And there was no question as to either statement. Bess looked an absolute vision in the new dress she'd gotten while shopping earlier in the week with their sister-in-law Constance. It was a rich burgundy shade and, like his jacket, was made of fine, luxurious velvet, except for the very bottom of the skirt, which was fashioned of pleated, ornately patterned lace. It's form-hugging quality and off-the-shoulders cut with a modestly plunging neckline spoke to the woman's ever burgeoning acceptance of and confidence in her looks and figure. That alone could make Wolf's heart soar for joy: The wonderful view of her cleavage was just a much appreciated bonus. Topped off with a simple diamond necklace he'd gifted her the past Valentine's Day, white, silk evening gloves, delicate touches of makeup, and sans shoes (because why would she bother when they weren't going out and his favorite footwear for her was no footwear?), his wife only looked more like the entrancing queen Wolf perpetually envisioned her as. Especially when he caught whiffs of peppercorn and roses from her throat, and vanilla and nutmeg from her coal-black waves. Bloody hell, she looked and smelled good enough to eat! He could easily have gorged himself on her!

The American smiled a little cheekily as she brought her hands back to rest on his shoulders. "Well, I had to look extra special for an extra special date night," she cooed, stroking down his upper arms and touching the tip of her nose to his. "I assume you know why it's extra special."

The man chuckled again and let his hands fall to gently grip her waist, bowing his face closer to hers. His eyes softened to a heartbreaking degree and he pulled her in until their fronts were pressed flush to each other. He noted in awe how her blush deepened at the contact. The fact that he, old Ebenezar Scrooge, former recluse and miser, could make this lovely, charming woman blush like a crushing school girl, even after all the time and ways they'd been together was nothing short of one of the Lord's miracles. And he would be forever thankful for it.

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken," he rumbled against her, "but I believe it's the anniversary of the night we first had dinner together and you first kissed my cheek."

Bess practically grinned at his memory. Really she shouldn't have been surprised he remembered something like that when he could just as easily recall the first time she'd belched in his presence or the first time he picked one of her hairs off his jacket. But after her relationship with Oliver, who, honestly, couldn't have even been bothered to remember when Christmas was, Bess still wasn't completely used to someone caring enough to remember so many things involving her. Even after several years it was still a treat. Perhaps it always would be.

"The night I matchmade myself out of a date and you invited me to the not-a-business-dinner-but-actually-a-business-dinner you were having with the Lord Mayor and his wife and the Cratchits."

"Oh, were they there too? I can't seem to recall. I just remember your lovely face glowing and your musical laughter ringing like silver bells all evening."

Bess rolled her eyes and snorted at that. "Oh, Wolf," she huffed. "You can't possibly forget how I danced with the Lord Mayor to sweeten him to yours and Adonis' homeless house pitch."

"Oh, I remember you dancing, certainly," Wolf stated with a nod. "I could never forget that sight: You twirling about in that flowery, blue evening gown with all the grace and beauty of blooming rose while that galumping shadow tried to lead you." Wolf's eyes narrowed just a bit as he focused on said memory for a moment. "I always get annoyed with that shade when I remember that night."

Bess laughed and the mellifluousness of it banished any dark feelings her husband might have possessed.

Turning his full attention back on his wife, Wolf smiled adoringly at her again. "I love it when you laugh," he told her, practically whispering. He trailed a hand up the softness of her arm and took a lock of her hair between his fingers to play with. He watched the soft, black strands for a moment as he twirled them ever so gently, never pulling or tugging. "I love it when you smile," he continued. "I love it when you brush your hair or put on makeup or get dressed or shave or wax. I love it when you talk, walk, run, dance, breathe. I love it when you... exist."

He looked back up into her eyes, bringing his other hand up to cup her soft, freckled cheek as he stroked her cheekbone. "I love you, Bess."

Bess' eyes were soft and shining with moisture as her painted lips trembled into a smile. Comforting warmth settled in her chest and moved out in smooth, calming waves throughout her body until even the very ends of her hair felt toasty. She would never understand how this marvelous man could make her feel so special so easily, but he did. And she couldn't have been happier. "I love you too, Ebenezar," she breathed.

The man bowed his face to hers and her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in to meet him. Their lips met in the first of many kisses to come on that quiet evening.

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