#birds eye chilli farming

[infomatic93]

Birds Eye chili or Thai chilli Why has it’s become so expensive? 14 health benefits, advantages and disadvantages

Birds Eye chili or Thai chilli Why has it’s become so expensive? 14 health benefits, advantages and disadvantages

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[minty-mumbles]

Shifting Hues (Ch. 3.2: Lavender Cloth)

Summary: A fic that follows Wild’s journey to discover themselves. This chapter: Wild has a chat with Malon, and Hyrule tries to offer some advice

A/N: Thank you to @breannasfluff for helping me out with this chapter. Also happy pride month :)

(Read on AO3)

~~~

The scents wafting through Malon’s kitchen are heavenly, and Wild takes a moment to breathe them in and appreciate it. It’s been a while since Wild’s had the luxury of cooking inside with a real fireplace and oven, so they’d jumped at the opportunity to join Malon in the kitchen. 

The fact that helping Malon also got Wild out of spending the rest of the evening doing chores was only a bonus. 

Don’t get them wrong; Wild loves horses and most other farm animals. (Barring the Cuccos. Wild simply holds a healthy respect for those birds.) But despite their love for animals, Wild doubts that they could ever become a farmer. Having to muck out stables and milk cows is not their idea of fun.

Wild hadn’t been the only one who would’ve loved an excuse to get out of chores. Warriors in particular had sent Wild a somewhat nasty look when the Champion had nearly ran out of the barn to help Malon with cooking. However, Wild was the only one who had enough competence to help in the kitchen. That, and the other heroes were looking forward to seeing what the two of them would make for dinner. So there hadn’t been that much grumbling when Wild had fled the barn.

Malon had shared a wink with them as they entered the house and she directed them to go wash up. Apparently, she also didn’t mind the break from farm work. When Time had been away, Malon had done more than her fair share of running the farm. Now that Time was back, along with many extra pairs of hands, he hadn’t hesitated to insist she take the day off from farm work.

Malon had let Wild choose the menu for tonight, and Wild had decided to make a veritable feast. They might’ve gone a little bit overboard in choosing what dishes to make, but Malon had raised no complaint. She’d simply smiled at them with a hint of amused affection in her eyes. Wild turned away to hide the way their cheeks warmed.

If the first time the group had visited the farm had been any indication, the chores would be done sooner than expected with all the extra help. The other heroes would have plenty of time to relax before dinner was ready. 

With that in mind, Wild sets about preparing something small for them to nibble on while they waited for dinner to be done. Some freshly cut vegetables from the ranch’s garden, a bowl of roasted nuts, and a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade took up residence on the dining table, waiting for the hungry heroes who would soon come into the house. After a moment of hesitation, Wild spikes the lemonade with a splash of chilly elixir to help everyone cool down after a day spent out in the sun. Hopefully, that would be enough to stall any grumbling, either from the heroes or their stomachs.

With that settled, Wild heads out of the house and around the back to Time and Malon’s personal garden. After a brief deliberation, they pull up some carrots and parsnips. Soon, the vegetables are scrubbed clean, chopped, and tossed into the roasting pan with the rump roast of a wild boar, which Wild rubbed down thoroughly with their own special blend of spices. The vegetables would soak up all the juices from the meat and spices while they cooked and turn flavorful and tender as the meat cooked. That went into the oven right away to slow roast for as long as possible.

As Wild dealt with the main dish, Malon had brought up a large number of potatoes from the cellar and had started preparing them. A large pot had been set to boil over the fire, ready to receive the potatoes. They would be boiled until soft, then mashed with butter, a splash of fresh milk, some strong Hateno cheese, and roasted garlic. 

Wild toys with the idea of making a light mushroom soup to serve with the main course, but quickly dismisses the idea. Soups and stews are a staple of traveling, and while Wild tries to mix it up with a curry or stir fry every once in a while- anything that could be cooked easily in a single pot– they knew their companions would enjoy a break from soups.

All of the pair’s work is done in relative silence. Both cooks are engrossed in their jobs and feel no need to exchange words besides “pass me that knife over there,” or “where did you put the salt?” 

It’s peaceful to be able to cook in a real kitchen again, and Wild and Malon work well together, neither of them having to be instructed on what to do next. 

Wild pulls out a second cutting board, starting to help Malon with the potatoes as they contemplate what else to serve. The roast wouldn’t be enough for all of them, and some of the heroes, like Sky, Legend, and Hyrule, didn’t care for red meat. 

Wild mentally rifles through all the recipes they know, eventually coming to settle on salmon meuniere. The dish brought good memories to Wild. The first time they'd made the recipe had been for Genli, one of Kass' many daughters. She'd nearly shattered their eardrums with her excited shriek when they’d approached her with the finished dish. It’d made the hours they'd spent gathering the materials and trying to get the recipe just right all worth it. 

That, and the dish was truly delicious.

A swishing movement out of the corner of their eye pulls them from their contemplation. A quick turn of their head shows it’s only Malon’s dress flaring out as she twists to grab something off the counter. 

For a brief moment, Wild’s reminded of the necklace Riju had been wearing the last time they’d seen her. Malon’s dress is a similar shade of soft purple as the gems Riju had worn.

Now thoroughly distracted from their task, Wild’s movements turn robotic. Their mind wanders back to the subject that’d been consuming them lately. It had become a little troublesome, with how much the topic still weighs on their mind.

They wished they could talk to Zel about this. She would understand, and even if she didn���t, it would be nice to just get their thought’s off their chest. Unfortunately, Wild was hundreds of miles and thousands of years away from Zel, and surrounded by people who didn’t know who Wild really was. 

Another swish from Malon’s skirt draws their eyes back to the fabric. It’s a pretty pastel purple, which is a subtle flex of wealth that Wild hadn’t expected from Malon or Time. It’s not a bold enough purple to be overly expensive, or the kind that’s reserved for royalty, but it would’ve been expensive cloth. Malon is still wearing her typical apron and yellow neckerchief overtop of it, which dresses it down even more. As Wild stares, they notice subtle embroidery. Little bunches of lavender line the hems of the dress, with flourishes of green leaves.

“See something interesting?” Wild looked up at Malon’s question, finding her staring right back at them.

They turn away to the flush that creeps up their cheeks at being caught staring. “I really like your dress, that's all. It’s pretty.”

“Oh!” Malon blinks in surprise, apparently not expecting that answer. She looks pleased. ”Link got the fabric for me as an anniversary gift a few years back. He probably would’a commissioned someone to make it into a dress for me too, but I like to make my own. I’m the only one who knows how’ta make ‘em fit just right. Premade dresses always seem to have something wrong with ‘em.” 

Malon holds out the edge of her skirt for them to feel, which they do after a moment of hesitation. The fabric feels as high quality as it looks, and Wild can tell it’s not something Malon would wear if she were working on the farm. It’s a bit too delicate for that. Wild’s mind wanders as they rub the fabric between their fingers, and something of their envy must show on their face as they inspect the fabric, because Malon looks intrigued. A little confused at Wild’s interest, but not hostile. 

“I think I have some of my older dresses in the attic. I’m saving ‘em for if Link and I ever have a- well,” She cuts herself off with a smile, and Wild feels a similar smile tug at the corner of their mouth. The thought of Time and Malon having children makes their heart squeeze. They know it’s something the couple is hoping for, and the two of them deserve to be happy. They deserve to have as many children as they want. 

Malon’s fond, love-struck expression makes Wild relax slightly, which means they’re all the less prepared for her next words. Malon shakes her head to dispel the thought she’d been trapped in.

“I think some of them might fit you, if you’d like to try them. I think you’d look pretty in them.” 

Wild stiffened, their hands which had gone back to steadily chopping potatoes freeze instantly. Their heart is beating swiftly in their chest. Some kind of fluttery, light feeling rises in their stomach, but it brings along a dread that crawls under their skin.

Pretty. 

Pretty pretty pretty pretty prettyprettypretty 

Their brain frantically grabs hold of the word, turning it over and over obsessively in their mind, as if that will reveal some secret hidden message. Wild curses the fact that they hadn’t been looking at Malon when she’d said it. They weren't good at reading facial expressions, but they wish they had something to puzzle over instead of just Malon’s voice. 

Pretty? 

They hadn’t detected any sneer in her voice. She hadn’t sounded like she’d been making fun of them.

Malon had called them pretty. Or… implied it, at least.

“Wild? Are you alright, hon? You don’t have to try on any dresses if you don’t want to.” Malon is trying to reassure them, Wild thinks, and they startle as they realize they’ve been staring at the potatoes on the cutting board in front of them this whole time.

“No one’s ever called me pretty before.” The words slip out without their permission, but they aren’t a lie.

“Oh.” Malon’s expression turns gentle. There’s a small bit of pity in her gaze too, and for once, the emotion doesn't irritate them. Usually, when the topic of his scars come up, people are awkward at best, and downright insulting at worst, whether they intend to be or not. 

No one’s ever offered comfort before. No one except Zel ever felt bad for them or told them they were sorry that it had happened. And Zel didn’t count. She had the same kinds of scar they had- the horrific burns that came with surviving an encounter with a guardian. That type of scar was rare to see, and usually only garnered horror or grotesque curiosity.

“I don’t care what I look like,” Wild remarks, still not looking at Malon. The protest sounds hollow and false even to Wild’s ears. It was… partially true. Wild had never put too much thought into their actual appearance before. They’ve worried about whether they looked masculine or feminine, but they’d never bothered with how good they looked. They knew their lifestyle of traveling and fighting didn’t leave much time for appearances.

That didn’t stop people from judging.

Malon hummed a reassurance. “You don’t need to care, hon, at least not if you don’t want to.” Wild nodded. They knew that, but what if they did care what other people thought? What then? Tears prick at the corner of their eyes. They know that Malon can’t see it, turned away as they were, but it still makes their ears turn downward in shame.

“And I know my opinion doesn’t matter, but I think you're beautiful, Wild.” A fat tear rolls down Wild’s cheek, dripping onto their tunic and turning the blue fabric dark as it soaks in.

Malon’s hand cups their cheek, and guides them to look at her. She doesn’t look surprised to see the tear tracks on their face. She simply says “Oh, honey,” and draws them into a hug. She sounds gentle but there’s an undercurrent of sadness that makes the corner of Wild’s mouth twitch downwards as they try not to cry.

Wild can see Malon’s face out of the corner of their eye. Her expression is still concerned but still gentle and caring, and for a second, Wild is stuck with the overwhelming urge to tell her everything.

Could they tell her? Malon is very kind, and she’s married to Time. She knows intimately how the title of hero can affect those who bear it, and that being a hero didn’t mean you had to fit a certain mold.

And if she did react badly- well, Wild doesn’t live in the same era as her. They wouldn’t have to live with her opinion of them. 

Could they really tell her? 

Wild is halfway through opening their mouth to try and speak through their tears when the front door opens. They can hear Time’s voice call out a greeting, and heavy footsteps making their way toward the kitchen

They try to twitch away from the hug instinctually, never mind the fact that it’s obvious they’re still crying, their shoulders still heaving with every breath. Malon tightens her arms and doesn’t let them out of her embrace. When the door opens, Wild, who’s facing away from it, can't see Time or his expression. They tense under the weight of the old man’s gaze anyways, burying their face in Malon’s shoulder.

There’s a pause as Time takes in the scene. When he speaks, his voice is a little confused, but mostly concerned. “Champion?” Wild doesn't respond, knowing that their voice would waver and crack if they tried to speak now. 

When Wild doesn’t respond, Time speaks to Malon instead. “Is he alright?”

Wild can feel Malon shake her head, motioning for Time to leave with one hand. “He’ll be fine. Dinner won’t be ready for a bit. Go back outside.” Wild can’t see the silent conversation taking place between the two, but after a few more seconds Wild can hear Time turn and go back outside without another word. 

Wild will have to worry about that later. Hopefully, Time won’t try to ask them or Malon about what just happened. It’s a futile hope- the heroes of Hyrule are all a nosy bunch, Time included. With luck, Malon would head him off, and tell him not to ask Wild about it.

Wild still wasn’t ready to tell any of the other heroes, yet. Their mind goes back to the thought they’d had before Time had opened the door. Could they tell Malon who they really were? 

No. 

Malon is kind, but Wild isn’t ready to tell a friendly acquaintance one of their deepest secrets. Wild’s only met Malon a few times. In truth, they barely know her. A few hours spent cooking together isn’t enough for them to trust her with this. Wild can think of a whole list of people who deserve to know about this first. 

Teba, Yunobo, Sidon, the rest of Wild’s friends in their era, and Malon’s own husband are on that list, along with the rest of the heroes. 

Wild spends a moment to think this all over.

Those who wield the sword that seals the darkness all have an undeniable connection. Some of the heroes had proposed that they all shared the same soul, while others thought that they simply shared experiences that no one else– besides possibly their respective princess– could relate to. 

Whatever it was, there had always been an underlying sense of trust between them, even the more paranoid like Time and Legend. They trusted each other explicitly to guard their back in battle, but not only that. They’re able to trust each other with their deepest secrets. Things they haven't told anyone else. 

Hylia knows that Wild’s admitted some things to the other heroes that they haven’t told anyone before, not even Zel. Things like the fact that they remember how it felt to die, things like how many times they had to use Mipha’s grace on their adventure because they were still so new to the world and had no one to watch their back, things like–

Well. The point was there was a certain vulnerability between the heroes they only shared with each other. Wild brushes away those thoughts before they can overwhelm them.

Wild backs off, wiping at their eyes. This time, Malon lets them go without resistance.

“My offer about those dresses is always open, hon.” Malon’s expression is calm, and Wild can’t tell what she must be thinking. They throw their focus back to their cooking, trying to take their mind off of what just happened. 

Wild wonders what the other heroes would think about Wild dressing in women’s clothing. Would they care? Against their will, Wild’s mind flashes back to Warriors jeering tone when he had found Wild’s vai outfit, and they let the thought drift away.

~~~

Time keeps shooting Wild concerned glances over dinner. No one else has caught on to Time’s worry yet, which is a relief. Wild’s sure the other heroes have noticed that they’d been quieter than usual, but it wasn’t odd for the heroes to be more selective with their words at times, Wild included. 

Instead of meeting Time’s gaze, Wild busies themself with pushing around the mashed potatoes on their plate. After a while, and what Wild could swear was Malon giving Time a swift kick under the table, Time moves his scrutiny to his own plate. 

Wild is finally able to relax minutely, the tension bleeding out of their shoulders. They tune back into the conversations around them.

Closest to them, Hyrule and Warriors are talking, with Legend, Time, and Malon listening in. At the other end of the table, Four, Twilight, and Sky are having a quiet conversion that Wild can’t make out, save for Wind’s occasional loud interjections.

Hyrule speaks, asking a question from Warriors that Wild had missed. “Um, I only named myself Link a few months before I started my first journey. Believe me, the irony wasn’t lost on me.”

Warriors raises an eyebrow at Hyrule as he takes a sip of his drink. “Why did you choose Link, if I may ask?”

Hyrule shrinks into his seat, his eyes darting over to Legend, ears twitching nervously. When he speaks, his voice is even quieter than normal for the soft-spoken traveler. “I had heard stories about the hero who came before me. I was just a kid at the time, but I already knew I wanted to be like him.” 

Hyrule makes a slightly strangled noise after he finishes speaking. Wild doubts he meant to say all that, and feels a little bad for the traveler. He’s always been one of the quieter members of the group, and anyone with eyes could tell that he idolizes Legend. 

“I assume you didn’t believe it would turn out to be so literal.” Warriors commented. He looks delighted, and Wild suspects the only reason he’s not teasing Legend mercilessly right now is to avoid Hyrule exploding from embarrassment at the dinner table. Wild doesn’t doubt that Warriors will be on Legend's case– and on his nerves–the second Hyrule is out of earshot. 

Legend is also steadfastly refusing to look up from his plate, so at least Wild isn’t the only one. He’s pretending not to listen to the conversation, but the bright red ears and emotionally constipated look on his face made it clear that the veteran had indeed been listening.

~~~

Wild finds it hard to fall asleep that night. 

The group is split between the ranch’s two guest rooms, and Wild ends up in the room with Legend, Warriors, and Wind. Legend almost immediately claims the single bed, and the rest of them end up setting up their bedrolls on the floor after a token protest from Warriors. 

Despite having to lay on the floor, they’re still more comfortable than they are in the majority of the places the group has camped before. There are no sticks or rocks to poke their bedroll, no need to worry about movement or sounds in the dark, no light from the fire, or noises from those on watch to keep them awake. 

But despite all this, Wild’s wandering mind keeps them awake until long after everyone else has fallen asleep. The only sounds in the room are the soft, even breathing of the other heroes, and the sun has long since slipped below the horizon, leaving the dim glow of the moon filtering through the open window as the only source of light. 

Wild’s mind continues to wander aimlessly, never quite slipping into the sweet oblivion of sleep. No particular thought is keeping them awake, but their mind refuses to settle. 

They don’t know how late it is when they finally give up on falling asleep, quietly rising from their bedroll. They make their way out of the room without waking anyone, thanking themself for having the foresight to lay their bedroll the closest to the door. 

The house is deathly silent as Wild wanders through it and the stillness of the empty house puts them on edge. The only sound is the consistent tick, tick, tick of the clock in the corner of the entryway. The sound echoes through the rooms on the first floor of the house.

Wild shivers and slips out the front door. 

They slowly make their way out to the barn to say hello to both Time and Twilight’s Eponas and sneak them both an apple, which they seem to appreciate. The company of the horses is nice, but Wild’s restless feet carry them onward after only a few minutes.

They end up deciding to head up to the roof of the house. Maybe the fresh air, the sounds of crickets, and being able to see the stars would put them at ease enough to catch a few hours of sleep before the sun came up. It’s a perfect night for stargazing. There isn’t a single cloud out, and a light breeze making the slight humidity not feel too stuffy.

But when they peek their head over the edge of the roof, they discover they aren’t the first one there. Hyrule is sprawled out on his back, gazing up at the stars. Wild considers backing away and finding someplace else to sit, but Wild thinks that they wouldn’t mind the traveler's quiet company.

Hyrule seems to notice them hovering indecisively at the edge of the roof, and he sits up. An inviting smile is sent in Wild’s direction, so they hoist themself over the edge of the roof, flopping down next to Hyrule. 

Hyrule is the first to speak. “I saw you go into the barn. Sneaking the horses apples again?” Wild nods, and Hyrule grins. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Time or Twilight.”

Wild laughs, thanking him. Twilight had been getting on them about giving Epona too many treats recently. Wild personally doesn’t think they’d been doing so. Epona is a good horse, she deserves treats.

The two of them fall into a companionable silence after that. It’s nearly a half hour before Hyrule speaks up. “I was thinking about the conversation we had at dinner. About how Warriors and I choose the name Link?” 

Wild wonders why Hyrule includes them in the ”we,” as Wild hadn’t participated in the conversation at all. They also hadn't been paying attention for most of it, so they must’ve missed when Warriors had elaborated on his name. They nod in agreement anyways. 

“When I was younger I had a… friend, named Navi, who would tell me stories about heroes of ages past. I wasn’t sure when I first met him, but now I think Legend was one of those heroes. I think she even knew Time personally, even if she mostly refuses to talk about him.”

Hyrule must see the odd look Wild shoots him because he elaborates. “Navi is a great fairy, so she’s been around for a while. She basically raised me. Taught me everything I know about magic.”

That made sense. Wild had always wondered about some of Hyrule’s spells. His magic had always felt familiar, giving off the same feeling as the magic of the great fairies Wild knew. 

Hyrule continues. “Before that, I was- uh, fairies are all female, and being raised by them doesn’t help with-” Hyrule sighs. “What I mean is, I didn’t really have any role models who were men while I was growing up.” 

Wild wants to bury their face in their hands. They had come up here in hopes it would let them relax, but this was not helping. 

Hyrule is either oblivious to Wild’s growing stress or continues on despite it. “But the stories about heroes of old- the courage they showed in the face of danger, the sacrifices they made for the sake of others- I decided I wanted to be that kind of person. Long before I ever understood the difference between man and woman, I knew that’s who I was.” Hyrule aims a strange smile at Wild that they don’t understand. It doesn't seem malicious, at least.

Wild wonders what Hyrule’s point was. This conversation is getting a little too personal, a little too close to what had been haunting Wild for months. Why can’t they have a break? They just want a break from worrying about what they are and if they should tell anyone. 

“Why didn’t you say that all at dinner? Why tell me now?” They ask.

 “I just thought you might need to hear it, that’s all. Also, Legend would combust if I told him that.”

“You mean you would combust if you did?” Wild teases. They’re deflecting, they know they are, but their heart is pounding too fast to care. 

Thankfully, their distraction works, or at least Hyrule is willing to let the previous conversation go. He laughs, an embarrassed flush crawling over their cheeks, just like it had at dinner. 

‘I just thought you might need to hear it.’ What had Hyrule meant by that? Their mind whirls, and they have to focus on keeping their breathing even. In the quiet of the night, any unsteady breathing would be easily noticed.

After that, the conversation falls back into the usual routine of banter and soft laughter. Wild’s breathing becomes easier, and his heart slows, but they still wonder why Hyrule felt the need to share that with them. 

A heavy kind of sorrow wells in their stomach, and their mind swirls with questions that they can’t answer. 

Why couldn't Wild have had a crisis over their identity and realized that they were just being silly? That those feelings they were having were due to something else, and they really were a man? Why couldn’t they have become more assured in their own identity, instead of feeling like their soul had been ripped open and rearranged? 

Humiliation burns at them. They were supposed to be the hero. They were meant to be the kind of man that children were told bedtime stories about. They were meant to be that famous figure that looms in the public consciousness. They were supposed to be the fabled hero that was always unquestionably and recognizably a man.

And sure, Wild had defeated great evil, even if it took them a while to finish the job, and they’ve fought monsters, and sacrificed everything they were for the good of the people. This was all true. 

But it was also true that every time they looked at their body, their brain told them it was wrong, wrong, wrong.

If Wild truly had to feel like this, why couldn’t they have been more like Hyrule? If they’d truly been meant to feel so wrong in their own body- if this was what the goddess wished for them- why couldn’t it have been the other way around? Why couldn’t they have been born a girl, and later realize they were a man?

Wild knows that none of these questions are something they’ll ever find an answer to, most likely. They try to push down the feeling of desperation that rises in their throat and nearly chokes, and tries to stop thinking about it. The feelings might not ever go away, but Wild couldn’t spend their entire life wishing their circumstances were different.

After they manage to get their mind to stop spiraling, they’re still left with a dread pooling in their chest and one question running through their mind that keeps them from falling asleep the rest of the night. 

Does Hyrule know?

#mint's fanfiction #linked universe #lu wild #lu warriors #lu time #lu hyrule #trans wild #lu fanfiction #lgbtq+ #shifting hues #lu malon

[avesgraveyard]

Showers

804, 02/09, @rosekiller-microfic !! - this is from a fic I'm currently writing, so excited for this microfic month



On the one-month anniversary of Barty running off to Spain, the sky opens with a thundering boom and gives way to a bout of fresh, heavy, June rainfall. The downpour is so thunderous that it had woken Barty up in the very early hours of the morning, and had continued on and on until the dark black of the night sky had turned a shade of cloudy grey. The birds had not twittered as they usually do when the sun comes up. They were all hiding away in their nests, safe from the chilly rain, which is what Barty wishes he was doing right now. But no, instead he’s stood on the front porch, bright and early in the morning, just under the extension of the tin roof, glaring across the garden at Evan. Who is bent over a rose bush, soaked to the bone. 

Honestly, he hadn’t even tried to cover himself up. No umbrella, no raincoat, not even a hat! And it wasn’t as though the rain was warm (though it should be, seeing as it’s June). No, no, it was absolutely bone-chilling, rather painful to stand under, and relentless. 

“Oh, you moron!” Barty yells across the garden in an attempt to raise his voice above the noise of the storm, but to no avail, so instead he repeats the statement to himself in a vengeful hiss like that will make him feel any better. This is just brilliant, really, because now he’s going to have to march across the muddy stretch of land, get his clothes drenched, and likely catch a fucking cold, all because Evan is incapable of taking care of himself. 

Actually, he doesn’t have to do anything. He could just let Evan remain freezing and soggy while he goes inside and enjoys a nice warm cup of tea. But Barty fears farm life is turning him soft because he lets out a small growl of resignation before stomping through the garden over to Evan.

“What are you doing out here, you absolute mentalist? It’s chucking it down!” Barty has to keep yelling because even though they’re closer now the slamming of rain on their tin porch roof is still deafening even from a ways away. Evan looks up at him through his eyelashes, still bent over the rose bush. Barty notices that he has a pair of shears in hand, and there’s a basket at his feet, half full of brilliant pink flowers. 

He can do little to focus on the startling colour though, because he’s just realised that Evan is wearing a white t-shirt. A white t-shirt that is now see-through, clinging to the man’s skin, and it’s somehow even worse than when he doesn’t have a shirt on at all (Barty already struggles with this in itself verify often). Because this way Barty can see each and every curve of muscle through the creases of the fabric, make out the toned shape of Evan’s abs from the way it sticks to his stomach, and he could probably trace the line of Evan’s spine and all it’s bumps and ridges and– 

“I need to harvest the roses earlier this year. It’s going to rain for a few days. The petals will bruise. Besides, it’s just a shower,” Evan yells back and turns to the rose bush again as though the rain isn’t actually going to give him hypothermia. Barty wonders very briefly if Evan is honestly stupid, or if he just has little to no regard for his personal safety. Just a shower. Honestly.

He makes a face at Evan’s back and taps him on the shoulder until his friend turns around again. “Uh, no you’re not. You’re coming back inside so you don’t die of some horrific, rain-induced disease. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, gorgeous, but I’m pretty fuckin’ useless when it comes to farming. If you go, this all goes to shit. That’s it. No more food, I’ll likely die by myself. So you-” Barty jabs a finger at Evan’s face. “Inside. Now.”

Evan makes a noise of protest, blinking rainwater out of his eyes and pushing his fringe back from his forehead. “No, Barty. These took ages to grow. I need to harvest them before the petals get damaged or we won’t be able to use them.” Evan looks at him imploring, his eyes impossibly big and shiny under the bleak grey haze of the early morning. Barty lets out a noise of frustration.

“What do you even use rose petals for? Love spells?” 

Evan wrinkles his nose. “No, dumbass, jam. And baths. And… tea,” he trails off. 

“Fun. Cause, you know, pneumonia kills people, but it’s always worth it for the tea,” Barty hisses. Evan rolls his eyes so far back Barty hopes he catches a glimpse of his lack of brain.

#rosekiller microfic #rosekiller #rosekiller fic #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #barty crouch jr x evan rosier #evan rosier x barty crouch jr #farming au!! #prompt: showers

[mycandylovefanatics]

Blueberry Pancakes

(A very short Lysander blurb I’ve had on my mind for a while.)

(So glad to be back oh gosh! in this story the farm and the house looks just a tad different, ive always imagined sitting on the porch with lysander having coffee or tea so im indulging in my own little thoughts here lol i havent written anything in like years at this point so forgive me for any typos, forgive my rustiness and forgive me if you just dont enjoy the story lololol)

Living on the farm was a drastic change, but it was a change that you welcomed with open arms. The stark contrast of waking up to the sounds of birds singing versus the aggravating honking of cars, people yelling down the halls of your dorm. There was something different about the air there, something that wrapped you up in a blanket of peace and warmth, even if it was currently a bit chilly at the moment. 

You sat outside on the front porch, hands tightly gripping the mug of coffee in your hands to absorb as much of its warmth as possible. The mug was probably a bit too hot to be holding that way, but the cold in the air balanced it out. It was about six o’clock in the morning now, you had gotten used to waking up earlier and earlier due to Lysander’s routine. At first you didn’t hesitate to fall back into the mattress, going back to sleep within seconds but slowly you had come to enjoy getting an earlier start to your day. It wasn’t a daily occurrence that you were up before him though.

It was the middle of Spring, so while the weather was nice during the day, the mornings were still a crisp cold until the sun would come up. But it wasn’t a bad cold, in fact it was actually pleasant the way the morning breeze brushed your skin. You took a deep breath and sipped your coffee, whatever leftover drowsiness you had slowly faded away along with it. You leaned against the wooden railing and got a bit lost in thought, not hearing the door open softly behind you.

“Good morning lovely,” Lysander spoke up, startling you a bit but it made you giggle. You never understood how he managed to be so light on his feet. He tiredly rubbed his eyes and stretched before walking over to you. 

“Good morning to you too, did you sleep well?” You looked up at him as he stood beside you and kissed your forehead, moving your hair out of your face as he did so.

“I always sleep well with you,” he smiled, and it made you blush. He had his own mug in his hand as well too, whoever made coffee in the mornings always brewed enough for the other to have some waiting for them whenever they made it out of bed. It was an unspoken thing between you both, and always filled your hearts with warmth at the small but loving gesture.

Lysander stared into the distance, watching the sun begin to creep up along the horizon. It’s golden rays spilling over and landing perfectly on his face. His eyes always seemed more intense in the sunlight, especially his golden one. He was undeniably handsome whether he knew it or not, and you couldn’t believe he was yours. Of course, he could say the same and more about you and would not hesitate to let you know.

“Sunrises must have been made just for you, my love.” 

You’re suddenly very aware of the way he’s looking at you, complete adoration in his eyes. From his point of view, the sun was creating a golden aura around your frame, making you seem almost unreal, almost heavenly. It was a bit cliche how the wind started blowing just at that moment and he swore he fell in love with you every day. The way his eyes seemed to bore into your soul always made you a bit nervous, in a good way. “You always look breathtaking this time of the day,” he tilts your chin up and kisses you, his lips soft and his touch gentle as always. 

Your face is no doubt heating up at this point, but you have no shame in that. “You’re a true womanizer, you know that Lys?” you joke with him. He cocks his eyebrow up at that, a small smirk forming on his face and he shakes his head at your little joke. “I highly doubt that.”

He wraps his arm around you and pulls you into his side, both of you continuing to watch the sun come up. 

You had been living with him for a little over a year at this point and even still, you never got tired of times like these. In fact, you weren’t tired of any of it. Waking up next to him, brushing your teeth together, cooking and eating breakfast together. The domesticity of it all had you feeling warm inside. You leaned into his chest and wrapped your arms around his middle, taking a deep breath and his scent filled your nostrils. You both stayed like that for a while, him occasionally stroking your arm or hair, and you rubbing his back. Before you knew it, the sun had fully risen and you were ready to start your day until-

“gerrrrrghhhhhhle”

You jumped at the loudness of your stomach, both of you laughing at that. “I guess I forgot about breakfast, you hungry?”

He didn’t have to answer, because right at that moment his stomach also growled, a little louder than yours, and you both burst into laughter at that. 

“I guess we have our answer then,” you giggle. He nods in agreement and lets you lead him back into the house by his hand. “Come on, I’ll make you your favorite?” you offer.

“Blueberry pancakes?”

You nod.

He perks up at this, fully awake now that you’ve promised him a treat. “Absolutely. Lead the way, love.”

Making your breakfast is quick, not having to do much except make the batter and flip the cakes. It goes by even quicker with Lysander by your side handing you the ingredients you need as you go, and before you know it you’re sitting at the table with him ready to gobble down. 

You’d never doubted it to begin with, but the content smile he has on his face as he takes a bite of his pancake reaffirms that you wouldn’t trade this life with him for the world. 

Coincidentally enough, he’s thinking the same thing, appreciating the simplicity of it all. Being with you is the easiest thing he’s ever done. Nothing has ever felt so natural to him, and the simple act of eating breakfast with you makes his heart feel full. He watches you cut into your pancake, and he wants this feeling everyday for the rest of his life. 

Thinking about the small, square box he has hidden upstairs in your shared bedroom, right under your nose, he’s never been more sure of his decision than this moment.

#mcl lysander #lysander ainsworth #Lysander #Lysander Headcanons #mclul lysander #mycandylove #mycandylove oneshot #mclboys #MCL #my candy love #alternate life lysander

[karoiseka]

obligatory 💙 for the kiss meme but also 💕!!! any combination of your bard trio. also 💜 for kar'a and hyth

You are a menace and I love you. lol Sorry for the delay, but here's all three!! A bit smaller each, but I think they all came out to be about the length of one of the prior prompts once combined!

obligatory 💙drunken kiss / tipsy for the kiss meme but also 

((Micro-fic for this one. lol))

The bottles swam in front of Karo’s vision as she tried to focus on the Doman Prince across the table from her.  This was probably not a wise choice the night before battle, but, she had needed to unwind, and for once felt safe enough to do so in the company she was with.

A long blink later, and she realized she was being carried to her bedroll in the corner near the twins.  Hien pressed a kiss to her forehead as he tucked the blanket around her, pointedly leaving a glass of water just within arms reach–but not close enough to spill if she flailed in her sleep.  Curling onto her side, his watchful smile was the last thing she remembered before dawn.

💕kissing somewhere other than lips!!! any combination of your bard trio. also 

The warm water was a very welcome and pleasant change from the chilly air of Sharylan, and Karo couldn’t get enough.  The fact that it was completely private and isolated away from all responsibilities was a boon, and the overwhelming thought that all this land was hers, well, that was a thought for another day.  There had been enough guilt for pushing and pulling everyone on the Star as far as she had–yes to save literally everyone–but it didn’t make the flexing of that power feel any better.  Getting rewarded for it in this fashion was–a little unsettling–yet the benefits were starting to wear down at her frugal mind.

“You, my dear, are not supposed to be thinking that hard right now,” the words were spoken after strong arms bore her to the surface of the water, wrapping around her and lazily keeping them both afloat.  An affectionate kiss was nuzzled into her neck by Thancred, as she belatedly realized that her lack of paying attention had led to her quietly slipping underwater while she was thinking.  Not that this was a problem with the blessing of the kami, however, it was a tad embarrassing.

G’raha glided over to where they were floating, butting heads gently with her, and kissing Thancred on the cheek.  They both had of course come with her when Tataru had dropped her off on the island initially, seeing as she was still technically recovering.  This was a last little adventure for the three of them before having to buckle down on more serious work–Thancred going exploring with the ever patient Urianger, and G’raha starting to take up full time duties with the Students of Baldesion once more.  

For now though, it was time to enjoy the sun, and her loves–so that was what she planned to do.

💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss for kar'a and hyth

Amethyst eyes popped open as Ikarus leaned over her friend and lover, a good-natured scowl crossing her face.

“That sight of yours makes it very hard to surprise you, did you know?”  Closing the gap, she finished the motion, kissing him as he chuckled.

“Sorry, little bird,” gracefully, she sank the rest of the way to the ground next to Hythlodaeus, curling up around him as he wrapped an arm around her.  It had taken her longer than she liked to admit to find him, hidden away in a favorite clearing in the part near his office.  Said office was of course the first place she looked, it being one of his working days, but she found the room empty besides abandoned concepts, yet to be reviewed.

She wasn’t supposed to be in Amaurot currently,  as she was assigned to a task half the star away to survey the farms there.  The rest of her friends and compatriots in the field were scattered for the time being, busy with their own missions, so she had been alone.

And alone was not how she wanted to be this night–for it was night where she had teleported from, bleary-eyed, and desiring comfort.  It was a silly thing to feel so lonely when she was so respected and cared for when out in the world–yet here she was.  Desiring someone to call her Ikarus again, not Azem.

When she awoke, Hyth had already slipped away, most likely to return to his daily duties, however, she wasn't alone.  Emet-Selch, Hades, sat a few feet away, guarding her while she slept, oblivious to the world around her.  How like Hythlodaeus to get one lover to watch the other.  Her co-worker was reading, his own reports it looked like, so still not off the clock despite being dragged away from his desk. 

Rolling over, Kar'a crawled the few feet to his side, peeking over his shoulder as he scowled at her–not as fiercely as he used to, but still at least pretending to be annoyed. 

"Thank you," she leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment as he sighed with great exaggeration. 

"Thank your partner in mischief," he turned back to his work as she chuckled.

"Ah, but you did come when he asked, so my thanks shall go to you," her childhood friend sighed again as her spirits rose.  Moving quickly, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could jerk away, teleporting away immediately after.  As the park disappeared around her, she could see him turn to watch her, expression softening to an exasperated fond smile.

#ffxiv #karoiseka #kar'azem #thancred #g'raha #hythlodaeus #hades #and three makes a chorus #g'raha x wol x thancred #azem x hythlodaeus #ask me! #thank you!! #I honestly did have fun with these #especially the Kar'a/Hyth one that turned into a Kar'a and Hades one. lol #... how is it after 1am?

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Chrysanthemums

In general, this little story, in fact, is the same headcanon about Isaac that I foolishly deleted instead of publishing (I'm a dumbass). I didn’t want to write a short headcanon again, so the story came out. Yeah...

After the overnight rain, this early fall morning felt especially chilly. The leaves that had yellowed and fallen to the ground no longer crunched pleasantly under feet, but only made a nasty wet sound, covering his leather boots with wet and sticky mud. Instead of the pleasant singing of the birds, crows cawed as if they were cawing at everyone who passed by. The sun did not shine its warm rays on the ground today either, but hid behind dark gray clouds, creating an already gloomy atmosphere in the cemetery.

But Isaac didn't care. No matter the rain, no matter the storm, he had to come here today.

The ever-blossoming and beautiful Stardew Valley had been so unfriendly to a visitor from a distant land. Or on the contrary, did valley listen to the grief of a lonely visitor to the cemetery, grieving with him for the loss of someone close to him? He does not know, and does he need to know? What will change? What can he change at all?

Today is her birthday. She would be 29 if she were still alive....

He never had the courage to look at the tombstone before, he - one of the bravest adventurers in Castle Village! - can't look at her gravestone. He couldn't, it's too much, it hurt too much.... And now, instead of sorrow and grief, there was only emptiness left in his heart. Not a heart but a broken vessel that would never be full.

Wanting to be angry and screaming, angry at her, his close friend, who didn't listen to Isaac and went to a place where she met sure doom. He want to be angry at himself for not being able to protect her. He want to be angry at the whole world, to curse the same hateful desert that ironically had become his home, to curse the one responsible for the corruption in Crimson Baldlans, he want...

"Isaac?"

The call caught him out of his daze. He had been so immersed in self-reproach and hatred that he hadn't noticed when they was approached.

Of all the people in the world, they were the ones Isaac wanted to see the least.

Here they are, the rising star of the Adventurer's Guild, damn them! What was it with them and their habit of coming up to him at the most inopportune moments?

"Go away," Isaac's voice was calm, but cold as steel. "I'm not in the mood to talk".

"I didn't want to bother you," Farmer replied calmly. "I wanted to take care of the graves"

Isaac remembered that the last time he had come to the burial grounds of the fallen warriors, he had seen that the old and worn gravestones had been restored, and the cemetery itself had been cleared of weed. Marlon said that the Farmer has been looking after the cemetery since the way to the summit was opened again. Nobody asked them about it. Then...

"Why?", he asked.

"They deserve it"

Isaac didn't answer, just stared at Farmer's back as they moved on towards the gravestones.

"Wait," he hurriedly called them. "I'll help you".

The Farmer did not expect such an offer from the adventurer, but nodded at his offer of help. For about 10 minutes, the silence was broken only by the sounds of weeds plucked from the wet and loose earth, which they managed to grow even in such cold weather, and the cawing of ravens.

Isaac, a little unsure, spoke up, "Do you have chrysanthemums growing on your farm?"

Straightening up to their full height, the Farmer looked inquiringly into Isaac's face. The eyes of the scarred adventurer no longer contained the anger and annoyance that the Farmer had encountered earlier. Only sadness.

"Chrysanthemums... Her favorite flowers"

#hooray. more angst with Isaac #sve #stardew valley expanded #sve isaac #sdv farmer #sdv mods

[bentobarnes]

previous chapter / series masterlist

⤿ word count : 1.2k

⤿ summary of the chapter : loving someone even when they are gone reveals a lot of secrets but what happens when those secrets are about to become bucky's world?

⤿ note : i can't believe this is the final chapter... i'm soo happy with how it turned out and that i managed to give bucky the happy ending he deserves 😭

warnings : fluff, happy ending, bucky is beyond happy

*feedback is appreciated. please reblog so it can reach more people♡

In the pleasant upstate of New York, about three hours drive from the Big Apple and left for Mahwah, lies a small town patched with holes that were in fact mineral springs. Tall, lush trees adore the Victorian houses nestled there, giving it the charm of a forever living place. There aren’t many people, but the town still gets enough tourists for the people to lead good lives.

That’s where Bucky was headed. The old town of Saragota Springs, where Natasha and her sister were waiting for him. They bought a house after the fight with Thanos was over, and everything was coming back to normal. It was a lonely farm near the town, filled with always bright green grass and dandelions. He remembered how Yelena once told him that they wanted to get a cow or a sheep or maybe both and smiled to himself as he was listening to the radio playing in his car.

He wanted Steve to come with him, knowing that Natasha wanted to meet him with someone, but his best friend refused, being too caught up with building his own life. Bucky didn’t blame him, but he still felt the butterflies in his stomach, spinning around and tickling his insides.

The sun was shining brightly, and no clouds were to be seen, although even with the sun there was that cold spring breeze making it chilly enough for a jacket. The emptiness of the highways he passed though, didn’t help with finding a shield from the hot sun rays, but he felt more than happy to feel them on his skin, gently patting his knuckles on the steering wheel.

James had to cross the whole town to reach the two sisters’ house. Turning over down the dirt road after the crossed town sign. The birds were chirping, and he turned off the radio, listening to their songs and the creaking rocks and grass underneath the car's weight.

Soon enough, he saw the bright red house positioned behind a short, white fence. He still couldn’t believe that Natasha, a highly trained assassin was living on a farm with a dog and her sister. But he wasn’t much different, was he?

Parking his car in front of the large space separating the house from the fence, he stopped the engine and took the car keys out of the starter.

‘Look who finally came!’  Yelena shouted from the porch, running down the two steps and hugging him tightly.

‘Hey, I’m not even late!’ He protested, smiling at her as they let go of each other.

When they looked back to the front door, they saw Natasha leaning over the door frame with a big smile highlighting her features.

‘Romanoff.’ Bucky said seriously as he climbed the two steps, towering over the shorter woman.

‘Barnes.’ She replied with the same seriousness but all coldness was forgotten when they both laughed at each other, embracing themselves into a hug. ‘It’s good to see you!’

The three of them sat at the small table on the porch, Fanny coming to greet Bucky with a waving tail.

‘Oh, hi to you too!’ He exclaimed, petting the top of her head and scratching the back of her ears. ‘So, who am I gonna -’

He couldn’t finish his sentence because he was interrupted by a child’s voice growing strong from behind the door.

‘Auntie, Nat!’ Shouted a little girl. Her hair was separated into two ponytails, and Bucky’s heart tightened as he watched her move, clinging to Natasha’s leg. She looked a lot like you.

‘What’s wrong, sweety?’ Natasha asked, smoothing her hand over the girl’s head.

‘I just miss you.’ She pouted her lips, making puppy eyes.

‘You wanna meet somebody, baby?’ The red-headed asked, and when the girl nodded eagerly, she took her in her arms. ‘James, this is Rebecca Winnifred Barnes.’ Natasha smiled.

‘Barnes?’ Bucky whispered, feeling the butterflies in his stomach going crazy, but there was no time for thinking because the voice of Becca brought him back.

‘Is this daddy?’ Rebecca asked Natasha, waiting patiently for her answer.

‘Yes, he is.’

‘Yay! Daddy!’ The little girl exclaimed, and the assassin put her down, her little feet tapping over the wood as she rushed to Bucky, hugging him.

‘Hi, love! Oh God, look at how beautiful you are!’ He took her in his lap, kissing the top of her head as she nestled her face into the crook of his neck.

It seemed soo familiar. The way she did that... like it was you. She was basically a mini-you, that one he had always wished for but didn’t know he could actually have.

‘I missed you, daddy. Mom always said you were away to heal yourself.’ Becca looked up at him, and he smiled at how her features were just like yours, although she had his eyes.

‘I missed you too, baby. Mommy was right. Daddy was healing himself.’ He kissed the crown of her head again and felt her hand squeezing his.

‘Bec, you wanna go play with Fan cause your aunties have to talk with your daddy, okay?’ Yelena touched her shoulder and the girl obeyed, taking Fanny into the front yard.

Bucky was speechless. He didn’t know what to think. How did this happen, why you didn’t tell him? The questions were pouring but there was also a sense of relief that you were still here, just in another body. He wanted to do everything for the life you left behind.

‘As you have probably guessed she was born when you went to Wakanda.’ Natasha explained. ‘She didn’t want to tell you because -’

‘Because she knew that I needed to get the Winter Soldier out of my mind… So that’s what she wanted to tell me before she died…’ Natasha nodded in agreement.

‘When Y/N was snapped we took care of her and then Y/N didn’t come back. I still hate her for this…’ Nat clanged her fist. ‘Rebecca still remembers things about her but I feel like they are starting to fade…’ His heart broke at Romanoff’s confession.

‘I wanna look after her. I want to really be here for her while she's growing up.’ He breathed out.

‘We were hoping you’d say that.’ Yelena smiled. ‘She needs her dad.’

‘Where are we going, daddy?’ Becca asked as she was holding tightly onto Bucky’s hand.

‘To see mommy, baby.’ Bucky reassured her, holding red spider lilies in his other hand.

They took sight of the stone on which your name was carved. The sun was shining right on top of it, and birds were singing their summer songs. The weather was hot without the cool breeze of the spring day Bucky met his daughter.

‘Hey, love. Look who's here.’ Bucky started talking, placing his hand on the warm stone.

‘Hi, mommy! We miss you very much!’ She kissed the stone, placing the flowers down on the fresh grass.

‘Thank you, my love. Thank you for our precious girl. I love you, and I promise you she will never forget you, I will make sure of that.’ He kissed the stone before giving his hand to Rebecca.

‘Love, stop pulling Alpine's ears!’ Bucky giggled at the sight of his little girl and the cat they adopted together. Becca fell in love with Alpine just like Bucky did when he visited the shelter with Steve.

‘But look at her! She is soo cute!’ She protested, pulling her ears more before kissing the top of Alpine's head.

Bucky smiled to himself, feeling his heart steadily beating in his chest. If it wasn’t for you and your baby he would have never survived in this world...

the end

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky oneshot #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female oc #bucky barnes x original female character

[mamamittens]

A Heart Made of Straw

Part 10/13 of Spooktober 2023

Thatch X OC(Nikia)

Warnings: Excess fluff, social anxiety, crushes, and mild harassment.

I had this half written for a while and had not the spoons to finish/start anything else. So I wanted to at least get another one down before the end of October. With luck, I'll do one tomorrow too... So damn close.

Word Count: 4,270

(I know this is of wheat or something but apparently Tumblr only has creepy or unhinged gifs for corn...)

Nikia started working on Newgate’s farm as a scarecrow about three years ago. He had frankly massive fucking fields that needed just about every hand he could get to tend to them. And once the crops were planted, the work wasn’t done either. They needed to be watched for infestations, thieves, and rot. A particular point of pride in autumn was his cornfield.

He even had a massive corn maze that brought in visitors. It was pretty cute, to be honest. Nikia suspected half the reason he even had a farm was the kid-friendly attractions he could make almost year round on top of feeding his army of adopted kids.

Well, she says kids, but they’re all grown now.

What does she do as a scarecrow? Why, she monitors her section of field, making patrols for the months leading up to the harvest, and generally ensures the birds don’t eat all their hard work. It was a more traditional role for a scarecrow, granted, but one she didn’t mind. Her and a few others—it was hardly a job for just one after all.

Newgate was a very nice old man and his kids equally charming. Nikia knew there were some farmers that demanded scarecrows sleep, eat, and live in the fields, but Newgate had nice guest houses for them.

Just before dawn, Nikia got up out of bed and braided back her hair. The thick strands of straw dark and easy to weave together. Sturdy overalls and a loose shirt affording her some comfort from the chilly air and a wide sunhat perfect to protect her eyes.

Another scarecrow, tall and spindly thin, shambled past her with a yawn from his own night patrol. His face patchy with straw growing out into thin stubble he’d either have to trim soon or put up with a bush on his face.

“Any excitement out there?” Nikia asked softly, handing him a sandwich from the fridge. He mumbled and shook his head.

“Nah, some coyotes calling out back somewhere but they got scared off by the dogs.” He gave her an amused look, though clearly half asleep. “I hear he’s in town to prepare for the harvest comin’ up.”

Nikia played it casually.

“Who? You know Newgate’s got like, a thousand kids.”

But he just grinned and went to bed without dignifying her with a response.

“Well, fuck you too.” Nikia muttered, grabbing a jacket. It was supposed to be particularly cold out today and she didn’t want to risk anything. Getting sick right now would be embarrassing as hell. Straw just flying everywhere anytime she sneezed.

The sky was just turning pink on the horizon over the miles of corn near the guest house. Stars glittering overhead. It was a breathtaking sight that she couldn’t help but admire every chance she got.

Still, she had a station to get to. An old wooden stand raised well above the corn.

Despite her nerves at the news, Nikia settled easily into her routine of watching the fields for birds. Spooking them away whenever they ventured too close to the crops. When the sun had risen considerably, she patrolled randomly to inspect the corn and ground for vermin and mold. As expected they were free from any problems, though a few looked almost ready to harvest.

Her shift in the field ended at noon, and after that the day was hers.

So, naturally, she spotted the car before anyone else. Puttering down the dirt road, the compact vehicle made good time swerving around potholes. Coming to a stop in front of the main house where Newgate waited on the porch. It was too far to see clearly, but the visitor was well received with cheers she could hear well across the field.

Ah. Yeppers.

It was definitely Thatch.

Quickly, she looked away before the distant figure could look her way.

Maybe she should stay at the guest house today? Ah, but she promised to help Izo hang up laundry after she was off. No graceful way to bow out of that. The man was particular about his laundry. Didn’t care for dryers when it came to his expensive sheets and clothes. Field work clothes could go be washed and dried like everything else, thankfully.

So that meant when her relief came in she sheepishly shuffled to the main house. Newgate grinned when he saw her.

“Ah! Nikia, Izo is expecting you! Grab something from the kitchen on your way, Thatch is making lunch for the family.” He laughed, winking at her.

“Can do, boss.” Nikia waved, wiping off her boots before entering the house. Last time someone tracked mud inside they had to mop the whole house with a rag. She was not risking it.

People darted around, handling chores or preparing to do outside work before lunch. Always something to do on a farm, after all. Inside the kitchen was Thatch. Just Thatch.

And Nikia had to pause to prepare herself a little to see him.

He came around fairly often for small visits, but she managed to miss him more often than not. Only to run into him out in the field doing something or other. And the less she saw of him, the better.

She never knew how to talk to pretty and sweet people. There had to be some sort of edge or bitchiness before she felt comfortable. But Thatch was overwhelmingly kind, even to scarecrows like her.

Thatch hovered over the stove, watching pots and pans on burners like a hawk. Frilly white apron that was meant more as a joke in a male-dominated house tied around his waist. White shirt rolled up to his elbows as he fried chicken and greens. His auburn hair was tied low against his neck, strays curling around his ears and chin while he worked.

He happened to glance in her direction and paused, bright, charming smile quick to the surface.

“Oh! Hey there, didn’t hear you come in!” Thatch laughed, his smile tugging on the crescent scar curving around his left eye. “What brings you over here, you usually hide between the stalks!”

Nikia smiled thinly, quickly making her way to the fridge to pour herself a glass of sweet tea.

“Izo asked for help hanging laundry is all.” She replied softly, still not looking at him.

It was better not to risk staring.

Thatch was very pretty to look at. Broad and strong to match, she didn’t need a demonstration to know he could easily toss haybales up a ladder with one hand. Why or how someone that cooks for a living maintains biceps bigger than her head, she’d never know.

“Oh! Well, I’ll bring out a plate for you two when it’s ready, that alright sweetheart?” Nikia narrowly avoided choking on a glass of cold sweet tea.

She wheezed.

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine, Thatch. Y-You don’t ne-eed to trouble yerself.” Nikia swallowed hard, pounding her chest to clear her throat. Once she was confident in her voice, she gasped. “I’m fine.”

Quickly, she retreated from the kitchen while there was still a shred of dignity left inside her.

Izo, not one to do things by halves, had several baskets of wet laundry that needed to be hung out to dry.

“Are you alright? Thatch didn’t give you any trouble, did he?” Nikia clutched her cold glass with a tight smile. “Ah… I see.” She slammed down the glass and her hat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—let’s hang up some laundry, yeah?” Nikia hissed, ignoring the amused expression Izo sent her as they got to work hanging up sheets and bedding. They’d emptied about half the baskets when the back door swung open.

“Foods ready! I set aside a couple of plates for you both if you don’t mind letting me know if I’ve gotten rusty.” Thatch laughed.

Nikia braced herself and pushed aside a white sheet before immediately hiding behind it, nearly ripping it off the clothesline in her haste.

Thatch was standing on the edge of the porch without a shirt. Or apron for that matter. Bare chest out with a mess of dark curly hair all over, not a care in the world. Unfortunately, it wasn’t like shirtless men was an unusual sight on the farm. But Nikia was used to say… Ace walking around without a shirt—she wasn’t sure he even owned one to be honest—but Thatch was always properly dressed.

Desperately, she gave Izo a look, her face hot as she quietly hissed.

“Help! Me!” Nikia felt like she was going to throw up from sheer nerves.

Izo was amused until he peaked around a shirt and rolled his eyes.

“Thatch, why the hell are you not wearing a shirt? If I find hair in my food--!” Izo started while Nikia quietly resolved to throw herself in the nearest bonfire.

It would be less painfully awkward than confronting Thatch shirtless, that was for damn sure.

“I was wearing a shirt when I cooked! I just spilled grease and didn’t want it to set in is all! Where’s Nikia, did she already leave? I was hoping to hear what she thought of the chicken…” He sounded like he was pouting.

“She’s been working all day in the field. The last thing she needs is to think she’s about to get mauled by a bear for a plate of chicken. Have some damn shame!” Izo scoffed. Silently, she thanked Izo’s aggressive teasing.

“I’m not that hairy, don’t be rude.” Thatch defended himself.

“Then put on a shirt, you animal!”

“Ace doesn’t wear a shirt!”

“And he grew up half-feral in the mountains! You are! Not! Helping your case!”

“Fine! I’ll go find a shirt, damn. I didn’t know the sight of my physique would fluster you so much, Izo.”

“Oh, in your dreams!” There was a pause as the door closed again. “He’s gone. You can grab your plate in peace.”

Nikia sighed in relief. The food smelled really good, it would be a shame to miss it just to avoid encountering Thatch.

“Thank you so fucking much. I thought I was going to die.” Nikia quietly confessed. Izo smirked picking up his plate from the porch.

“You know, he’s going to notice something’s up eventually. You can’t keep avoiding him like this.” Izo informed her primly.

Nikia sighed, picking up her own plate and taking a sip of cold tea.

“I know… I don’t know what else to do though. The last thing I want is to make it weird. He comes all this way to help y’all, not get gawked at by a weird scarecrow.” Nikia muttered, taking a cautious bite of chicken. It was delicious, of course. Seasoned to perfection with a roll she was liable to die for and greens she… didn’t care about but wasn’t going to waste too much of. “Besides, it’s mortifying enough just looking at him. Can’t imagine talkin.”

At the very least, the excess food wouldn’t be wasted. Instead fed into compost or as a treat for a farm animal somewhere. One way or another, nothing went to waste out here.

Izo chuckled, patting her back.

“I know. He wouldn’t hold it against you though. He’s actually pretty fond of you.” Izo grinned. “Seemed awful keen to give you food when he happened to ‘lose’ his shirt.”

Nikia whined, low in her throat and entirely against her control. Face hot from the brief glimpse she did get. But Izo just laughed at her misfortune.

There was a time no one knew of her problem. She’d been pretty good at hiding it for the first two years. Then, around Thanksgiving when she received an invitation—something Newgate extended to just about anyone that stood still long enough—she decided to bring a pie. A cream pie specifically. And she had to hand it over to Thatch so he could decide where to put it on the fucking massive table spread.

She felt a tad scruffy and awkward as it was attending what was basically a family function for her employer’s family. Best button down shirt and jeans not too far from her usual fair in everything but lack of stains.

And there he was. Messy with bits of flour and grease staining his rolled up sleeves. Old scars and faded tattoos peeking out, hair somehow still immaculately done up in his favorite pompadour. She’d spent hours trying to convince herself this crush was stupid based on that hair alone but to no avail. Confidence, it seemed, was everything.

And in the kitchen? He had it in spades. Flashing her a bright and beautiful smile, relieving her of the pie with one hand while the other gently guided her towards the back patio on her back.

Ace had seen her nearly trip out of the door and must have noticed her expression. Instantly bristling at the panic.

“Did someone say something to you?! Who was it, I’ll set ‘em straight!” Ace hissed, looking around for some nefarious individual.

Despite her pleas, he didn’t drop it. Like a dog with a bone, he dragged it out of her that Thatch was responsible. And then she had to defend the poor man before Ace pranked him in revenge for some, previously unmentioned prank that went too far.

“It’s fine! It’s fine! I just… can’t… be in the same room as him… is all.” She mumbled sheepishly.

Nikia flushed, still remembering how Ace’s eyes narrowed. His mind visibly churning to deduce what could possibly inspire that reaction. Then his eyes slowly widened and he grinned.

“No! No, shut up! Shutupshutupshutup! Ace!” Nikia had hissed desperately, drawing Izo’s attention, always on the lookout for drama at family gatherings.

It was, to be frank, all downhill from there. But at the very least they respected her feelings enough to not mention anything.

This was between Thatch and Nikia, as far as they were concerned.

Just about the only spot of sunshine from the whole affair.

Regardless, hanging laundry wasn’t the only think Nikia helped out with after her shift when asked.

The next day she was recruited to search for the resident barn cat. One of them, at least. She’d had a litter but no one could find out where and wanted to bring them in before it got much colder. And with so many damn silos, barns, and sheds to look in, there was no shortage of places an onery cat could hide her kittens.

Nikia was checking out a barn near the house, poking around the haybales to see if there was a suitable crevice. This involved a lot of clambering that would be damn uncomfortable for anyone not wearing protective gear or, as she was, made of straw already. There was too much background noise to tell if there was kitten calls, and if the mama cat had stowed them behind the bales, the sound wouldn’t reach far anyway.

Grabbing a handful of bundled hay, Nikia struggled to lift herself up. Boots scrambling over packed straw as she climbed the bale taller than she was.

Suddenly, someone gave her a boost. Firm hands lifting her up by her waist.

The sound that left her throat was more of a squawk than any inquiry as she pulled herself up higher and looked back.

It was Thatch, grinning from under the brim of a straw hat. Tight fitted white shirt tucked into a pair of baggy overalls.

Utterly horrified, Nikia looked back and concentrated on climbing higher—and away from Thatch.

“…thanks.” She huffed, wondering if she could become one with the massive pile of hay with enough concentration.

“No problem! Heard Bells had kittens. Think she’s hiding them back there?” Thatch asked conversationally.

Nikia shushed him, mostly to make it easier to forget he was there. But also because she could faintly hear a cry. Multiple, in fact.

Two bales high on a pile that reached five, Nikia poked her head up to the next level and sighed.

“Found em.” Nikia smiled, glaring playfully at the annoyed mama cat grooming her fussy kittens. Orange, white, and gray kittens squirming around each other to find the perfect resting spot. “Welp! Better get a box before she moves em!” Nikia declared and jumped down, running past Thatch before he could say anything else. Nearly falling onto her ass in her haste.

She managed to dodge Thatch for nearly a week.

In her defense, it would have been longer but she didn’t expect him to show up during her shift.

Nikia weaved between rows of corn stalks, pausing every few to inspect the ears and dirt for critters or other maladies. Steadily making her way to the perch where she’d finish out her shift looking over the field for disturbances. It was basically a wooden chair that could swivel around for a complete three-sixty view fifteen feet off the ground for even the tallest of crops. With a wide base build with steps to reach the seat.

This one was old and would need to be repaired before the next season.

Unfortunately, it looked as though someone had told Thatch to do it now.

He’d already ripped off several steps to attach new ones, effectively making it impossible to climb up.

“Ah…” The pitiful noise escaped her without thought and his head swiveled in her direction.

“Shit! I thought I’d hear you coming for sure through all that corn—oh, do you need a lift?” Thatch asked innocently, wearing a warm flannel shirt and jeans this time.

Nikia grimaced.

“Uh, no… I can figure it out.” Nikia excused, despite knowing full well she could not reach the seat without help now. Still, Thatch stepped aside and let her try. Watching silently as she managed to grab the lowest step and attempt to lift herself up.

She was making decent progress for a scarecrow. But upper body strength isn’t exactly their defining feature and she hardly broke the mold in that aspect. So she ended up awkwardly trying to dig her boots into the support beams to clamber up.

“…You know, this would be easier if you just let me help.”

“I’m fine~!” She gritted her teeth, now committed to either climbing this damn tower of a chair or burying herself with the corn stalks.

But Thatch was a deviously helpful sort of man. She knew that.

So, rather than watch her struggle in silence, he grabbed her firmly by the hips and picked her up.

A devious fucking man.

So, rather than lifting her up high enough to make the rest of the way on her own, he settled her onto his shoulder. You know. Casually. Like you do. His arm braced over her thighs as she scrambled to remain balanced with an alarmed screech.

“What the hell, Thatch?! You’re not that damn tall!” Nikia protested hysterically.

“I’m not.” Thatch agreed. “But I think it’s time to get to the bottom of all this.” Thatch looked up at her, grinning.

“Cool. Cool. Cool… can we start by putting me down?” Nikia asked softly, looking away only to find a sea of corn stalks around her. Not quite able to see over them. Maybe if she stood on his shoulders?

“Nope!”

“…why?” Nikia whined, deflating with defeat. “Don’t you have shit to do?”

“Besides repairing these steps? Nope!” Thatch laughed, squeezing her thigh reassuringly as the motion made her sway horribly. “But if you just tell me what’s up with you, this could all be over~!”

Nikia tried to squirm off of his shoulder but his bicep and forearm were like bands of steel.

“Eheheh—w-well, not much! Hoooooow about you?!” Nikia grit her teeth, still looking at the corn.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I might believe you!” Thatch protested. “But I’ve noticed something recently…”

Stop fucking noticing you bastard! Cease noticing! Stop! That! Perceptive shit!

“Recently? Like what?” Nikia asked breezily despite feeling like she was going to throw up. “Like the weather?” she commented idly and he snorted.

“Oh, nothing like that! I’ve noticed something about you. Which is impressive since I’m not here as often as I’d like.” Thatch huffed. “You never stick around when I am here. You leave at the first opportunity. You don’t look at me when I talk to you…”

There was an odd, faint sound. Like someone dying an agonizing death somewhere across the field.

Wait.

No.

That was her.

She was dying right here, though she wished it was across the field.

“I-I thiiiiiiiiiiiink you’re imagining things. I’ve got shit do to, you know! Errands to run. Guard shifts to tend to. Places to be.” Nikia clicked her tongue, aware of how hot her face was. “We’re so terribly busy around here, it’s no wonder we rarely run into each other!”

Thatch laughed, patting her thigh in good humor and she’d rather he just threw her into the corn field.

“That is true! But I think it’s a little bit more than that.”

“Well, it’s not. More than that.” Nikia cut in briskly. “We done here? We’re done here!” She chirped, trying again to shuffle off his shoulders. But he didn’t budge.

At this point, why would he budge?

“Really? Cause I think you know what I’m talking about.” Thatch chuckled, bouncing her on his shoulder. “Admit it and I’ll let you down~”

She was dying here.

In his arms

On his shoulder

Of embarrassment.

“I… don’t think I will, actually. Nope. Not a damn word. You’re going to get tired eventually.” Nikia hissed, risking a glance down.

She regretted it when she saw the smirk and bright gleam in his eyes.

“You weigh less than half a bale of hay to me, sweetheart.”

“I’m very aware of that.” Thatch’s grin grew only wider at her snarky comment.

“Then you must really like it when I carry you.” He laughed and her heart spin in circles around her chest. She gripped the edges of her hat and tugged it over her head. Face hot as she tried to curl into herself. “Ahah! You do~” Thatch crowed, only further deflating her until it took more effort to stop herself from laying on his head that it did to just sit up properly.

He snorted.

“Well, if you’re going to be like that~!” She was jolted, screeching as she tumbled down into his arms. Perfectly trapped to his chest.

His laugh wonderfully close to her ears as he held her.

“Please put me down.” Nikia mumbled, nearly ripping her hat in two as she tried to hide in it further.

“No… I think I really like carrying you. You’re the shyest scarecrow I’ve ever met, did you know that?” He laughed into her hair. “I think it’s cute. But it would be even cuter if I could see your face~” he teased.

“Can’t.” She hissed.

“Oh?” Thatch squeezed her closer. “Why not? You just have to let go of your hat, and we’ll have the perfect view of each other!”

Horrifically, Nikia realized, she’d finally entered an impasse. She couldn’t hide forever. And even if Thatch dropped it now, he’s too close to the truth to not eventually pic right back where it was left.

Ever fucking last one of Newgate’s kids were stubborn, perceptive bastards. Right down to their bones.

And she was fool enough to develop feelings for one.

“… your face.” Nikia huffed.

“What, am I ugly to you?” Thatch pouted, though it was clear he knew damn well that wasn’t the case. Nikia whined pitifully, burying her face into his shoulder as he laughed. “C’mon, sweetheart! Just a peek and I swear I’ll let you get back to work.”

Cautiously, Nikia lifted up her head and looked.

Thatch was incredibly close, grinning as he leaned in and kissed her. Just a brief brush against her lips that lingered as she froze. His laugh curling around her as he pulled back and gently lifted her up to properly return to her station.

Head empty of all thoughts, Nikia mechanically looked over the field until she noticed her relief trekking out of the guest house.

Suddenly, her heart restarted and she looked down to find Thatch admiring the newly installed steps.

“Thatch!” He looked up in surprise as she leapt down into his arms.

“ACK!”

He caught her despite his shock and she huffed, glaring down at him.

“You’re mean.” Nikia hissed. “Since when were you pretty and mean?” She asked plaintively.

His expression shifted to glee as he laughed.

He let her down this time, though not without another kiss.

“Does this mean you’ll talk to me now?” Thatch asked, grabbing his tools and curling his arm around her shoulders.

“You’re still too pretty… it’s hard to talk around you.” She grumbled.

Thatch laughed.

“Welp! Can’t do anything about that!” Thatch kissed her head softly as they walked through the field towards the main house. “Am I pretty enough for dinner with the cutest scarecrow I’ve ever seen?”

Nikia smiled, face only a little flushed.

“…maybe.” She laughed at his cries of protest and attempts to bribe her with enthusiastic kisses to her face. “Ahck! Stop that! Thatch! F-Fine! Fine, you’re more than pretty enough—just stop that, it tickles!”

“Knew you’d come around!” He crowed as they broke through the thick field of corn.

Newgate spotted them and laughed.

Nikia turned sharply to walk right back into the corn but was dragged back by Thatch as he laughed.

“Pops! Stop scaring her off—you know she’s shy!”

“Gurarararararara!”

Was it too late to become one with the field?

#one piece #spooktober 2023 #thatch one piece #one piece whitebeard #portgas d ace #urban fantasy au #don't ask me how scarecrow people work #idk #Thatch X OC

[aethertownusa]

Comic college novel posts part THREE

Chapter Two

The afternoon was in the day like the yolk was in a fried egg. Kim woke warm in warm and happy and full of lightness. The humid air snuffled at his mouth and ears. Benjamin stood at the window, twisting back and forth. He was loosening his spine.

Kim led Benjamin along the cold black halls of the back of the house. “Are you sure they’re still here?” Benjamin asked. To an inexperienced ear, the house was silent; but Kim had heard the possum-in-the-wall freakout of the stove being turned on. Kim and Benjamin arrived at the huge light of the staircase, where the halls opened into the front of the house and its windows and, suddenly, its sound.

Kim was better-tended than his old friends, more physically healthy, and yet he had since the age of seventeen acclimatized his body to what was, now that he thought about it, an unusual level of substance abuse. Amongst their industry peers he and Benjamin were not outstandingly debauched, and the tendency they shared toward hyperfocussed self-care had wristed the reigns on their libertinism by their mid-twenties. And yet their industry peers were not a solid sample group, all of North America considered. Kim and Benjamin were Bing and Bob strolling into the first floor; there they found the junkie alley from High and Low.

“Oh no,” said Zeline when she saw them. “Oh no.” She was on the floor of the living room, back against the wall, a plate of breakfast on her well-thighed legs. “Gross,” she said. “Why is your skin so good? Oh. Ugh. Oh no.” The place smelled of pancakes.

Sunlight poured lemonadeish into the living room. The blank lamps stood perfectly clean and perfectly dusty, many. Isaac’s wires ran over the carpet. The windows were open. The cicadas rang.

Sunlight knocked off the glass in the dining room, creating the impression of sparkling crystal. Jean-Daniel and Ray sat at the long table. Jean-Daniel's size made him especially pathetic: he bent like a suffering Rodin, knuckles the circumference of cherries turned over his eyes, eating. Ray said hello to Kim and Benjamin by looking at them.

In the kitchen Isaac flipped white batter on the griddle, and the griddle looked like farm equipment left to die in the rain. Paul mixed a health powder into his orange juice. He lifted it, an offer; Kim declined. Kim only took ayurvedic supplements and children’s vitamins.

Kim fanned a pair of plates on his hand and made a plate for Benjamin simultaneous with his own. Isaac pointed without words to the bowl of sweet potato biscuits, and his silence was not one of pain but pride. “Very nice,” said Kim. “Zeze’s got it all wrong. Who needs a wife? Not you.”

“I’m my own wife,” said Isaac to Benjamin.

Kim and Benjamin ate on the front steps where they could talk and smoke. The steps were feathery with old paint. They were hot to the touch but sighed chilly breaths from under the earth when they creaked.

Kim and Benjamin were a little giddy. They had nothing at all to do. There were weeks before them of total freedom, without tours or studios or interviews or any work besides work which spontaneously took their interest and which they could lay down at any time. Here was Kim in a place he absolutely knew, and knowing it was not at all painful—and to his delight it wasn’t nostalgic. Here was Isaac’s flat land and soon the edge of the woods, drooping wet-fat and green; the still gray knots of the Spanish moss, the churning insects and the marimba noises of the birds; and the invisible crescent of quick passage from the woods to the clearing where the cars were parked, a way of moving which Kim had co-created. Everything here was here and still growing. Its history was inside it like Kim’s history was inside Kim, and it was alive as Kim was alive.

“What are you trying to see?” asked Kim. “We should probably not be around here this afternoon.”

“I’ve got a list,” said Benjamin.

“Can I guess,” wondered Kim.

“I think you can probably manage percentages.”

“I want to say sixty for voodoo.”

“Right. And then the rest is food and blues.”

“You might be disappointed at how easy this is going to be,” said Kim. “We could start crawling now and that sweet spot would get hit just going up the road.”

“I don’t care if it’s easy. I want it to be easy,” Benjamin said it with a political rhythm. “I want to roll back into Los Angeles just fat as hell and haunted all to shit.”

“Just a gigantic, cursed man,” said Kim.

“I’m going to be wearing lobster husks like Kali wears skulls.”

“The thing I love most about that great idea is fucking ‘lobster husks’.”

“Crawfish—” Benjamin tried badly to fix it.

“Lobster husks.”

“Crawfish—”

“What a pleasure for to suck the husk of its sea-flesh.”

They smoked although they didn’t need to. Neither was properly addicted. They looked at the woods. An air moved, and the leaves swung like girls’ braids. The day was not as thick as it could be. The hollows of Kim’s knees rushed with sweat and his neck was slick but there were no steams rising off the banisters. Kim knocked on Benjamin’s leg and pointed out a black skink in the grass. Benjamin leaned and picked it up, and looked at its face and touched its back then put it down again. 

“We won’t go far today.” said Kim. “I’ll show you my town. You’ll dig it. And all the French girls.”

Kim vibrated with peace and a minor erotic energy. His recent life rooting itself down into his history touched the deep bell of longing for his childhood, and expectation for the future. He wanted to see his childhood home, and he wanted many women all at once, their legs spread like a Peruvian geometry, and he wanted a wife. Down and in all directions and transcendentally in one spot. A lucent woman standing on top of a complex ground, a very pregnant woman, grave-eyed with long loose hair.

“It’s too bad we just ate,” said Kim. “There’s hella restaurants.”

Pont Teche the town was built along the side of the waterway. Its land was dry for Louisiana and well-paved. A long time ago it had been a home to bad money and for that reason it was sturdier than the cities nearby. Its buildings were deep-porched and generous; they stretched their boardwalks between them so 18th century gamblers could walk door to door dry-headed. In the ‘90s the antique shops put on promotional festivals and locals walked door-to-door eating brownies.

Pont Teche the neighborhood was a leopard skin of bayou and flatland. Most homes were gathered in the little grid below the town, on squares of grass—sneaker-colored houses, straight, small-eyed, with flower bushes kicking their long legs over the chain link. The Douin house was cast far out, at a gulf of land within a swamp and woods. It was alone for a long way all round. Presumably it had been built by pirates.

They dressed and said some words to Isaac, and Kim took a six-pack from beneath the dining room table and carried it swinging up the footpath into the woods. With his other hand Kim held Benjamin gently by the arm. Kim held him from the start so that he would become accostomed to Kim’s hand being there and would not be frightened when Kim would have to seize him at the ten-minute mark.

The trees were veiny like cyclists’ hands, and gray, and personable, and absolutely heaving with green leaves. Benjamin’s blonde head moved like a child’s at a passenger window; it was an unusual mien for Benjamin, and it touched Kim to see his somber and orderly friend in this state of docile abstraction. At length the footpath asserted itself—the wide meadow floor of the woods narrowed into a discernible line, beaten in part by Kim’s own feet. The trees’ trunks bulbed and brightened into lunar greens, Tupelos. Kim pressed his fingers more firmly on Benjamin’s arm. The floor beside them softened, and softened, and dropped at precisely ten minutes into a great sponge the color of wasabi.

“Jesus Christ,” said Benjamin, juddering and moving in front of Kim as if he could tip off the footpath - which was wide enough for four grown men to take side-by-side - and into the swamp. Benjamin came to a halt.

“It’s cool,” said Kim. “Stay calm.”

“This is a fucking swamp,” Benjamin said.

“Be cool. It’s okay.”

“This is not something you described to me last night.”

“Brother. I know this path exactly. You are completely safe with me.”

“You didn’t even have a flashlight.”

“There was a moon. Let’s keep going,” Kim urged Benjamin’s arm forward, and reluctantly Benjamin lifted his feet.

“You’ve absolutely got to tell me if there are fucking alligators,” said Benjamin.

“They don’t go looking for humans.”

In the car Benjamin was sweating like wet fruit. Kim drove - Benjamin was too agitated by the alligators.

They played Arvo Pärt. They drove between the long shadows of clouds and the afternoon sun. Big land. The Douin forest stretched down; the road toward the city laid for a long while across a nearly treeless expanse. The clouds shone suddenly on still water and were in the next instant snuffed out in green. The rented car’s comforting scent and the cool, elaborate smell of swamp and bayou, white as clouds on water.

The earth changed. Steam rose off the road ahead them, at the long turn where the trees gathered and closed off the land. “Ghost corner,” said Kim, pointing. Benjamin sat up in his seat then drew his torso up and out, and sat on the window to watch the vapors as they passed. His half-done shirt clattered in the air. Its pearl snaps hit the windowframe.

The houses clicked up to the road, their car ports and bowed sidewalks. Jasmine, very softly - no storm yet, no storm yet. The scent of the jasmine would be magnificently heavy if rain were on the way. This was the close-built town, a few blocks of homes and decorative trees. Zeline’s old street - Zeline’s mother’s house, at the end of its way, only for a moment. St. Martin’s church, like a goose in a robin’s nest, hanging over its lawns. The river split the neighborhood and they took the bridge toward the city. Beyond, down the opposite road which they left behind, and a mile into the low houses and their rectangular windows, somewhere was Kim’s home and its short driveway, and its mail box with the red flag to lift and lower.

The bridge sank into a fair ugly mess of concretes and thin metals - electrical towers and chicken wire and the slopes of the overpass walked and doubled back like unhurried mice in a maze. The Teche put its thumb out and necessitated another bridge, a moveable bridge red as bacon with rust and decorated with a great artwork: the bridge’s lifting mechanics formed a skinny cage above the bridge, and at the height of this structure there was a sign depicting a crawfish against a background of troubled water. The crawfish spoke a long, slim speech bubble: “Ain’t It True! Pont Teche”. The crawfish was famous to anyone who had stayed in Kim’s apartment. As the car shot beneath the structure Kim and Benjamin screamed You got it! You got it! at the crawfish, for good luck.

#comic novel from college

[diaryofdayet]

Jan 30 𓇢𓆸 Hilo

Everyone woke up and cleaned out the house. I said goodbye to each room the way Dad had taught me when I was a kid. Then Mihiro gave each of us a paper crane for safety. We drove her to the airport, and when we dropped her off I missed her immediately. 

Jo, Fabia, and I got pancakes for breakfast. It was Fabia’s first time in a diner, and she kept dancing like John Travolta and Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction. We ordered pancakes, french toast, eggs, rice, gravy, hashbrowns, syrups, coffee, and juice and ate for a long time as we talked about the state of America. Then we drove back to the airport to drop off Jo. 

“And then there were two,” I pouted as Fabia and I got back in the car. We got our mind off it by driving straight to the volcano to visit Pele. 

The first thing we noticed was the steam that spouted from the ground around us. “Wow,” we said slowly. The crater itself was more beautiful than I could have imagined. An enormous breathing navel in the earth, as steadfast and inhospitable as the moon. I felt chills run through my body like water. We began walking around the rim, visiting little cities of steam where the stones grew moss, ferns, and unfamiliar plants. All of them, we noticed, in the shape of the woman’s organs: the uterus, the clitoris, the fallopian system. And everywhere, in an even more staggering display of symbiosis, the plants and animals were crowned with fire red. Red flowers from a tree, red-tipped leaves on a bush, red feathers near the eyes of a bird. I was moved in the deepest parts of me. 

We walked for two hours and I shared the story of the Randolphs with Fabia. She told me it was time to let it go, to give it to Pele, she could hold it. I stared out at the rim and prayed. I had a vision of myself, of a shadow leaving my body and walking across the rock field to Pele. Retiring to dance forever in the fire. But I felt nervous, unsure if the mountain would accept the shadow. 

“Give me a sign,” I asked silently. I looked around but nothing seemed like one.

We hitchhiked back to the parking lot where we’d started and carried our tea leaves from the car to the rim. We sat down and twisted leis for Pele. I worked in silence for an hour, letting the juice drip on my leg and stiffen around my fingers. Give me a sign. I cleaned my lei carefully and looped it around four times. I walked to a pocket of moss and steam and carefully placed my lei on the rock. The steam burned my face as I made my offering. I felt happy. 

It was now quite chilly. We walked back to the parking lot and let another pocket of steam heat us and wash the tea leaf sap away. The steam had an unusual smell, the smell of something precious. I laughed and laughed. 

We drove back down to Hilo and got sweet, tropical drinks at a bar. The drinks made us gag but we tried to sip them anyway. When the sounds of the bar had gotten to be too much we decided to drive to the farm and go to bed. 

“And anyway, I think it’s interesting because—“ We whipped our heads forward. 

“Woah.” 

After weeks of drought in Hawaii, it had finally begun to rain. 

𓇢𓆸

Dayet

#writing #journal #diary #hawaii

[genedara]

A Silent Night

No tears, please. It’s a waste of good suffering.

(( The following contains subject material that may be triggering to some. Expect to see the following themes: Graphic/Intense violence and horrific imagery. Read at your own discretion. ))

(( Recommended listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6f45mmOiiw ))

“Help me!”

The girl’s voice cut through the silent night air. An owl swooped out of a tree, spooked by the sudden loud noise. The bird flew without making a sound, choosing to find a quieter place to wait for its next meal. Back at its previous hunting ground, the girl continued to wander around in the dark, occasionally barking a request for help.

Tucked away deep in Elwynn forest stood the Holton farm. While not a large farm, the Holtons were responsible for growing various fruits and garden vegetables that fed the Alliance. Having spent the day tending the field, the Holtons were tucked away in their beds, safe from the chilly night air. Orvelle rolled over and pulled his wife close to him, holding her against his body.

“Please help me!” the girl drawled, her voice just loud enough to be heard inside the small farmhouse. “Oh Light help me!”

“Did you say something?” Lorena asked as she rolled over and buried her face in her husband’s chest hair.

“Nuh-uh,” mumbled Orvelle. “Probably just a bird.”

“Please help me!”

This time the voice sounded like it was coming from right outside the house. Orvelle wormed his way away from his wife and sat up in bed, staring at the window that overlooked the fields. He couldn’t see anything outside but it did look like there was something moving around off in the distance. A hand was then placed on his wife’s shoulder, a kiss planted on her forehead and then the farmer was out of bed.

“Stay here,” Orvelle said sternly, looking at his wife. “But I won’t object to you standing near the door with the shotgun. You remember where it is?”

“Of course, dear,” Lorena replied with a single nod of her head. She tossed her legs over the side of the bed and slid off the mattress. With bare feet Lorena walked over to her husband’s dresser and opened the first drawer, revealing a double barrel shotgun resting on a pile of men’s underwear. “I really wish you’d find a better place for this.”

“Ain’t gonna find a better place. No one will ever think to check the dresser for a weapon.”

Lorena grabbed two shotgun shells and slid them into their respective barrels. Once the weapon was fully loaded she hoisted the weapon up and held it at the ready with a smile on her face. Having dealt with bandits several times in the past, the two had developed an ability to be ready for danger with just a moment’s notice to prepare. Orvelle unlocked the two dead bolts and carefully drew the door open, peering out into the darkness.

“Hello?” he called out tentatively before stepping outside and onto his porch. “Miss, where are you?”

“Oh gods, help! HELP ME!” the girl cried out, sounding as if she were just a couple feet away from Orvelle.

“Miss, I can’t see you. Follow the sound of my voice!” the farmer shouted back, cupping his hands around his mouth in an attempt to amplify his voice. “Come to the house! We can offer you shelter and protection!”

From the gloom emerged the girl, her legs shrouded in shadows. Her torso was bare, her breasts exposed to the elements, nipples stiff due the cold. The girl’s body could be described as an hourglass shape, topped off with a pretty face and long brown hair. Black mascara lines ran down her cheeks, red and puffy eyes staring down the farmer.

“Oh my gods,” Lorena said from the doorway, the barrel of the shotgun pointed down at the ground. “Sweetie, are you okay? Are you hurt? Please, come, come. I can give you some clothing so you’re not naked.”

“Please help me!” the girl shouted, acting as if she was unable to see the couple in front of her. “Oh gods, please help!” “It’s okay,” Orvelle said, cautiously stepped off the porch and approached the naked girl, holding a hand out for her to take. “I promise you no harm will come to you.”

“Please,” the girl drawled, the tone of her voice dropping several octaves. “Help meeeee.”

A dull thump sounded as the girl’s head dropped to the ground, brown eyes staring up at the shocked farmer and his wife once her head stopped rolling. The rest of her body stumbled forward, the sight of which caused Lorena to let out a sharp cry of surprise as she stumbled backwards several feet. The farmer stood there in stunned silence, eyes wide as he watched something that shouldn’t exist emerge from the darkness, standing in the light of the moon.

“Pleeeeaaaassssseeeee heeellllpppp…” the girl continued to drawl on and on, repeating the same two words again and again. “Hellllppppp pleeeeeeasssseee…”

The naked torso was the only normal thing about the girl’s body. Her arms were held up at the sky, as if praising some unseen deity. Her torso was much longer than a normal person’s but ended in an explosion of assorted limbs of different sizes and skin tones. The thing ambled forward slowly, moving on a mixture of feet and hands, seemingly cobbled together with thick, black threads holding the abomination together.

The girl ceased her begging, staring up at Orvelle as her body advanced towards the farmer and his wife. A thin red laceration took shape at the base of her neck and ran down the entire length of her elongated torso. With the sound of flesh tearing the girl’s torso exploded, thrashing tentacles dancing about where her organs should have been. A pair of bone-like blades burst forth from the bloody mess, glistening crimson in the quickly vanishing moonlight as dark clouds moved in, cloaking the forest in darkness.

“Coooommmeeee jooooiiiinnn uuuuusssssssss…” the girl said with a voice that clearly did not belong to her. The voice was like nails on a chalkboard, a sound so foul you couldn’t help but wince. The words were laced with an intense feeling of dread that was only amplified as the abomination stumbled closer and closer.

Orvelle looked at the horror before him, his eyes moving from its mess of limbs to where the girl’s head once was. The farmer froze in place when a pair of silver discs formed in the space above the neck. Blood continued to pump out of the wound, running down her ruined chest, breasts reduced to nothing more than a pair of sickly gray nipples on decaying flesh. The stench that radiated from the creature was overwhelming, smelling of old, rotten meat and stomach bile with a touch of shit tossed in for good measure.

“BABE!” Lorena cried out from the doorway, watching in horror as the abomination approached the farmer. It reached out with clammy hands and gripped the man by the neck and hoisting him off the ground. He was held in place, eyes locked onto the silver discs that floated above the creature. The tentacles lashed out and wrapped themselves around Orvelle’s arms and legs, drawing him closer and closer until bare flesh was touching his.

BOOM!

The shotgun blast was deafening in the silence that had followed the girl’s arrival. Lorena stumbled backward a couple feed, dropping the gun as she moved instinctively away from the loud noise. The buckshot punched its way through Orvelle’s back, killing the man in one shot. His vital organs were now riddled with holes, the small metal balls nestled deep inside his flesh.

“NOOOO!” the abomination screamed, its voice so high pitched it caused Lorena to cover her ears.

“What a waste of good suffering,” came a mixture of voices from the depths of Elwynn Forest.

A Quel’dorei with platinum blonde hair tied into a ponytail emerged from behind the abomination, one hand gently laid on one of the being’s many limbs. She cooed and started to gently rub the creature’s leg, almost as if she were soothing a crying baby. A pair of milky white eyes stared out at the woman cowering inside the house.

Lorena sat on the ground, the shotgun resting several feet away from her. Something held her in place, preventing her from rearming herself. The farmer’s wife could do nothing but watch as her husband was torn apart in a fit of rage. A rope of intestines hit the ground with a wet plop, the stench of partially digested food hanging in the air. The abomination reached out with one of its many hands and gently took hold of Orvelle’s heart. With a grunt the organ was ripped out of the man’s chest, spilling blood all over its mangled and gruesome chest.

“Your family is so nice,” the elf said in her multitude of voices, sounding as if a man and a woman were speaking in unison. Lorena could also hear the voice of a child but it was faint, barely audible over the male voice’s presence. The elf radiated obedience where as her creation was a source of immense dread and despair. “Your husband will make a find addition to my child.”

The abomination took the two halves of Orvelle and stuck them against its pale flesh. It held the meat in place as they became one being. The farmer’s body was absorbed the new flesh drawing it into itself and eventually consumed the body whole. Four new limbs stretched out from its groin, reaching out and grabbing at the air like a newborn reaching out for their mother’s breast. Lorena was forced to watch the man she loved simply vanish into this horrific monstrosity led by some psycho elf bitch.

“Why are you doing this to us?” the farmer’s wife asked while tears streaked down her face. “We ain’t done nothing to anybody.”

“You are prey,” the elf said as she strode over to the prone woman. “And I am a predator. Do you not have prey species on this world, or are you too stupid to know of their existence? What makes you any different than the bovine you consume every day? But now you are the bovine and I am the hunter. Fret not, my child, for your essence will sustain me. I will feast on your flesh as I feast on your fear.”

Opening her mouth wide, the elf looked down at Lorena as her teeth elongated fangs, sharps as needles. Without saying another word, the elven woman let loose a hungry roar before dropping down to a squat, biting into Lorena’s neck. The fangs punctured the flesh as if it was a hot knife cutting through butter and with a twist of her chin a chunk of flesh was torn off. The farmer’s wife screamed briefly before slumping over to the side as blood pumped out of her neck.

“Help…” Lorena gasped as the blood drained from her face. “Me…”

“No, I don’t think I will,” the elf woman said with a frown, watching its prey bleed out before it. “Rest well my child, for your body will sustain me and my children. Not a scrap of flesh will be wasted. Come, my pet, and grab your meal. It is time we retire to our tower before the Host wakes up. Come, come.”

The elf bent down, grabbed one of Lorena’s hands and dragged her out of the farmhouse. A streak of blood followed after the elven menace as she slipped back into the shadows, her horrific creation following after her like a loyal dog. The two would vanish into the night, once more leaving behind a scene of intense violence. It would be several days before the grisly scene is discovered, leaving behind more questions than answers.

[tamrielarchive]

Through the late hours of the night Angi and Mehri pack up supplies. Storing away any unneeded items and making sure to not leave any valuables. By midnight Mehri sits for a break, writing her thoughts down briefly

The two head to sleep soon after, uneasy but eager. By morning Angi awakes to an empty shack. Checking outside she sees Mehri staring off the edge of the mountain cliffs. She throws on her travel clothes and jogs up to meet her. A: "Now what are you up to?" Mehri is startled and shaken from her focus.

M: "Hm? I'm just surveying the path. Nice view from up here, you can see pretty much the entire hold." Angi chuckles and nods A: "You get it, eh. Ready to go?"

M: "Ready as ever"

The pair shudder the cabin and smother all their fires. Heading out down the mountain the morning sky remains clear and pleasant. Angi leads Mehri down the mountain with wisdom from a thousand descents. As the two reach the treeline they begin to sneak, wanting to avoid any unnecessary attention.

Down the mountain path they sneak. Angi tells Mehri stories of old hunts and times in the woods. Passing a small cave Angi is reminded of a particularly interesting tale. A: "See that hole over there?" M: "Mhm? What of it?" A: "Right in there is a little grove. A long while ago I was trying to find a mark when I found myself in there. And it would be just my luck that I would come to find myself in the face of a spriggan. I had been caught completely off guard and only just managed to escape." Angi chortles in a jolly way. A: "Nothing like I've ever experienced. I hope I never come across one again, too many bees." M: "That reminds me of the time I saw a minotaur. A towering beast. Stalked through the woods like a monster, I had to hide inside a log!" Down the mountain path they sneak. Angi tells Mehri stories of old hunts and times in the woods. Passing a small cave Angi is reminded of a particularly interesting tale. A: "See that hole over there?" M: "Mhm? What of it?" A: "Right in there is a little grove. A long while ago I was trying to find a mark when I found myself in there. And it would be just my luck that I would come to find myself in the face of a spriggan. I had been caught completely off guard and only just managed to escape." Angi chortles in a jolly way. A: "Nothing like I've ever experienced. I hope I never come across one again, too many bees." M: "That reminds me of the time I saw a minotaur. A towering beast. Stalked through the woods like a monster, I had to hide inside a log!" The women share a laugh and continue on. As they descend further they come across a small stream. Angi takes a deep breath and scolws. A: "Mehri. I have a question." M: ".. Yes?" A: "How long has it been since you've properly bathed?" M: "...... its really that bad?" A: "You smell like goat shit, follow me." Angi leads her down along the stream, eventually the reach a small pond. There Angi stands along the waters edge listening to the morning bird song. In the pond Mehri bathes herself of days of dirt and blood and sweat. The water is cold and clear. Although chilly Mehri manages to relax.

M: "Stendarr's mercy I feel like a new person. Thank you, this place is great." A: "Its a quiet little spot. Haven't run into bandits out in this area just yet thank the gods." Mehri dips her head into the water and washes her face off. Looking over to Angi the two lock eyes briefly but Angi looks away hurriedly. M: "Haha, no shame here don't worry about nothing." Angi chuckles along, now staring off into the woods. M: "Say, those are some nice clothes. Whats the deal with that?" A: "Ah. Thats a conversation for another time. They keep warm though. High quality is worth it." Mehri nods, gets up and begins to dry herself. After shes fully dressed and armored the two head out. Eventually near the base of the mountain the reach a road. They sneak along the sides of the road northward until they reach a small farm. At the farm Angi leads Mehri off the trail through the wilderness. Steady footsteps and staying low keeps the two hidden. In the distant forests they hear shouting and movement. Avoiding any signs of life they eventually make it to the road to Riverwood. The two keep low until they reach the hold border. From there they begin to walk with renewed energy and excitement.

Eventually Mehri stops to admire some ruins. She stares at the broken foundations and crumbling pillars with wonder. M: "You ever wonder what this stuff used to be? A: "Can't say I do, not often." M: "There oughta be someone out there who knows." A: "You think? Hmm." sounds of distant barking drives the pair to carry onwards up the road. As they stroll Angi admires the surrounding landscape. They follow the river north, salmon leap along the frigid water. Eventually the trees give way to the village walls.

Mehri stops as they enter town M: "Welcome to Riverwood! My place is off out the other side of town, but the trader and inn are good places for supplies if you need them. So what do you think on next steps?" A: "Right now I need to settle down and think. I'm not in any rush now." M: "Well okay then, follow me!" Mehri escorts Angi to the other side of town, the townfolk eye the two as they walk past and Mehri gives them a friendly wave. The two rush off and into the woods. Heading up the hill Mehri leads Angi to the mouth of the cave. Hopping up on a rock she presents her humble little abode.

M: "This is home, feel free to come and go as you please." A: "Wow, you found this?" M: "Heh, yeah! Sitting out here right for the taking. Nobody in sight. Left the key out so now its mine!" A: "Are you sure this is safe?" M: "Absolutely. Whoever owned this place died a while ago probably, plus they left a note. Its totally fine."

A: "Well... alright then. Lets head inside shall we?"

Mehri leads Angi into the cave, she rushes over to her chests to store her supplies as Angi looks around hesitantly. Eventually as she explores the cavern she speaks up

A: "Wow, I was not expecting this." M: "Its very nice! perfect place to rest up and lie low." A: "Hmmm. Hahaha! This is great! You're a lucky one aren't you. The woods around here seem perfect for hunting too." Angi wanders towards the back of the cave. After stuffing away all her gear Mehri follows along giving her a short tour of the rest of the camp. The pair cook up and eat a small meal before resting from the days travel.

M: "So what are your plans for tomorrow?" A: "Scout out the area, maybe snag a kill, and head into town for a bit. I'll probably stock up on some supplies too." M: "Oh! You should head to the Riverwood Trader the guy and his sister there like me so just say I sent you." Angi nods in approval A: "And what about you?" M: "Not sure! I like to wander wherever. I'll probably go to Whiterun. I've heard some interesting things about that place. Might be gone for a bit so you're free to use this place as you please." Mehri gives Angi a warm smile before realizing something M: "But as long as you dont touch my stuff! I like it where it is." Angi giggles and nods along A: "That all? You're too kind." Angi looks over the pile of boxes and treasure below. A: "The dragon in the cave has a hoard and everything. Ill make sure to keep guard then." The two share a laugh and chat through the afternoon. Soon the last of faint sunlight coming from the mouth of the cave fades. Angi rolls out a bedroll and the two head to bed for the night.

#elder scrolls #skyrim #tes v skyrim #the elder scrolls #storytelling

[bikeit]

Self-Supported Berlin -> Copenhagen

Last summer (2022) I biked from ~Berlin to Copenhagen with a friend. A week of gorgeous riding on pavement and some dirt, carrying all our gear but staying in hotels to avoid the need for camping equipment, through a mix of rural landscapes, quaint towns, and cities.

It started with flying into Berlin, checking my boxed bike and a lightweight duffel bag that just held two panniers of gear. I reassembled the bike in a train station in the city, hooked my panniers onto it, wadded up the duffel bag in the bottom of one of the panniers, and rode away...

There's a recommended scenic bike route from Berlin -> Copenhagen, which partly follows the EuroVelo 7 route, with more useful detail including GPS tracks on the Komoot Berlin->Copenhagen page (I downloaded those and wrangled them into RideWithGPS on my phone, and onto a dedicated GPS bike computer I was trying out for the first time).

There's also great paper map book we used that highlights the route page by page (it's in German only, but that doesn't really matter for a map, and my friend spoke German). It's available in your typical map stores in Germany but hard to find in the US-- I ended up spending the extra money to mail order a copy from Stanfords UK ahead of time. I think it would be reasonable to do the entire ride just with this map book and no GPS, but we liked having both.

Overall, the paper map and the GPS route both seemed to match reality on the road 95% of the time, though we sometimes took alternate routes where something had changed, or we saw a physical bike route sign by the road that didn't match our map, or we just saw an interesting dirt path to detour onto.

The road surfaces varied. Other than when we had to pass through cities, many of them were a mix of quiet country roads (good pavement, few cars), paved bike paths paralleling main roads (the last rainy image below is a typical two-lane bike path in the countryside of Denmark, as nice as the main road nearby), or gravel roads cutting through forests:

There were a handful of sections with more unusual surfaces, from dirt paths to cutting through a port to get to a ferry, all fun in their own ways:

We ate a lot of white asparagus, cheese, meats, and bread (many hotels had great good protein-heavy breakfasts, and in a handful of towns we rented an apartment and cooked):

And I'll say again-- it was beautiful. We were never deep in the wilderness, but we passed farm fields, historical castles, the chalk cliffs of Møns Klint, and more. I still think about this a year later.

Finally, a week and ~500km later, we rolled in to Copenhagen and parted ways (I then traveled on to the island of Bornholm for a more lazy vacation-with-occasional-cycling).

A few other highlight memories, the experiences you can't plan but can happen when you explore:

Rain and chilly weather on one grey day-- I wanted a break. We were out in a rural area, but I looked on google maps and saw a small cafe symbol in a nearby town. We had to explore a bit to find it-- down by a harbor where nothing else seemed open. And... it was open, cozy, and full of cheerful people chatting, and we got amazing grilled cheese sandwiches while we took a break from the rain to warm up. (Hårbølle Havne Høker)

Biking past rolling rye fields on a windy day, their silvery ripples looking like ocean waves out of the corner of your eye.

Biking along the North Sea, coming to a dock jutting out into the water. Getting convinced to jump in the very cold ocean. And then getting ice cream afterwards (and there was a convenient public changing room with free hot showers nearby).

The best schnitzel and white asparagus of the trip with some house-made plum schnapps, in the unassuming tiny hotel restaurant in Bützow (I think it was the only hotel in town, the Hotel Bützower Hof).

Biking for an hour or two on a dirt road in a forest without seeing another living soul. Then coming across a tiny (abandoned?) baby bird crying in the middle of the road, and moving it off the road with a leaf. I know it probably didn't make it, but we had to do something.

Seeing a sign for a mountain bike detour, and taking it (only had to walk one short section).

Stopping for a beer at tiny microbrewery cafe just off the ferry (Café Købmandsgården), and ending up chatting with the brewer for a while and getting to taste beers-in-progress in the Brite tanks.

A few notes on route and timing:

We debated how much time to set aside for this, and settled on a goal of ~60-105 km (40-65 miles) per day over the course of seven days. We felt we could ride it faster, but made a conscious decision to aim for this pace for a few reasons:

This is vacation. We want to be able to stop and spend plenty of time at historical sites and interesting cafes we came across without feeling hurried.

There were a handful of gravel and dirt alternate routes that I really wanted to ride, and knew would be slower.

There was the possibility of heavy rain part of the week, and the certainty of some intense headwinds-- we wanted to leave open the option to skip a day of riding if the weather was terrible or at least make it a short day (we got fairly lucky on the rain and didn't need to skip a day, but I'm glad we had the option).

To make that pace work with the time we both had available, we decided to take our bikes on a train an hour out of Berlin and start in Neustrelitz instead of Berlin itself. We're both completionists by nature, so it was difficult at first to accept not riding the entire route... but I'm glad we made that call. When we got to the island of Møn we were blown away by the beauty and decided to spend a morning sightseeing around the island, and only got "back on the road" toward our next hotel around 3pm, so I'm glad we could make that a shorter riding day!

Weather:

We had some intense headwinds on one day, and for a few hours on two other days, but it wasn't as frequent as we expected. And we got rained on lightly along the ride, but only really got soaked on our last day, in the final two hours before Copenhagen-- the perfect time to be cold and wet and ready to sleep in...

Lodging:

We didn't reserve anything before the trip. Instead, each evening we'd look at the maps and figure out where we wanted to get to the next day, then look online and make a reservation (mostly Booking.com, but sometimes it didn't list relevant hotels so we had to do some google maps sleuthing + make some phone calls). I think one or two days we didn't even do this until lunch the day of. Overall, this worked, and it was great to have the flexibility to adjust our plans each day... but the flip side of this is one day we had to push hard for a longer ride than intended to get to a town with a hotel, and another day we almost had to detour 10 miles off route to find one with availability (but it all worked out). If I did this again, I'd probably pre-reserve hotels for Fridays and Saturdays only, since there's a lot of demand from local tourists going out to these scenic seaside towns (especially the isle of Mon).

But hey, without these constraints, we never would have ended up staying in some of the more unusual hotels, like Pension Elmehoj built in a converted retirees home, with bathrooms that look like this:

I also found this page in my notebook where, for fun, we ranked every hotel by a range of important criteria :)

A few other lessons learned (or known and reinforced):

Looking back at a notebook I kept along the ride...

Get to major ferries early (perhaps by an hour?). We did some research and planned for this, and it's good we did-- just biking across the massive ferry terminal at Rostock took a while, and we had to buy tickets and get our bikes loaded.

I liked the combination of wool short sleeve t-shirt plus light UV-blocking sun sleeves (saves effort on sunscreen).

I'm glad I brought flip flops, to walk around the hotel or beach in.

Don't make assumptions about other's travel styles, it's good to talk through what you each want out of a trip. For bike touring, I think the key points are (1) how early or late do you like to get up and roll out and (2) how much do you like to stop and detour along the way? (We traveled very well together, but it's good we talked these through before the trip because one of us assumed much earlier morning starts than the other :)

I brought just two pairs of padded bike shorts to alternate between and washed the used pair each night in the hotel sink, hanging it up to dry. It would have been convenient to pack a third pair, as these didn't always fully dry overnight and I had to figure out a way to clip them to my bike rack to dry during the day.

I definitely should have bought chain lube-- I left it at home because I wasn't sure about flying with it, but even with our lightly misty rain I should have been lubing the chain every few days.

I didn't like the screw-on style of bike pump I brought-- I accidentally unscrewed my valve cores (I didn't realize I'd bought tubes with removable valve cores) which was... startling. And I didn't have a good tool beyond my hand and a rag to tighten the valve cores in.

As usual, I brought rain pants and shoe covers but didn't get a lot out of them. When it's lightly raining, they just make me hot and sweaty and aren't needed. When it's raining harder, they only kept my feet dry for an hour or two-- eventually the rain gets in. I may shift to just bringing a rain jacket and extra socks in the future.

Similarly, I often pack leg warmers and then don't need them-- I warm up quickly enough while I'm riding.

Packing:

Generally, I traveled fairly light, with my bike plus two small panniers (10-15L each). At some point I'll write up my packing lists from trips-- every trip I learn more and refine it...

I rode with a hip pack on this trip for the first time. It felt so uncool (who cares) but carrying an extra 1.5L of water and my wallet/passport/snacks/rain jacket even when parking the bike and walking around was awfully convenient...

#recap #touring #bike touring

[atriumatsunnyatlantic]

Critical Tips That Will Help You Plan Your Outdoor Wedding

Do you and your partner wish to take your nuptials outside because of nature's scenic background? Or do you believe exchanging your vows in the presence of nature is the best way to get married? If yes, you should know you are not alone. Getting married outside in nature is one of the most beautiful experiences. However, there are a few factors that you must take into account when planning an outdoor wedding.

To help you, we have put together a list of things you must know before planning your outdoor wedding. These pointers should help ensure your wedding ceremony is a success and that all your guests enjoy your celebration.

Finding An Ideal Venue Is Essential.

So you and your significant other have decided to host an outdoor wedding, but you are still determining what kind of outdoor wedding venue in Long Island, you should book. We suggest you explore all options near you. Look at all the rooftop venues, beach venues, winery venues, or farm venues to find an ideal fit.

When you work with a wedding planner, they can show you photos, reviews, and videos from authentic couples of all the outdoor wedding venues in your area. Moreover, you can further narrow your search based on your guest list size, budget, and amenities.

Work With Photographers To Maximize Your Venue's View.

Speak with your wedding photographer and videographer to ensure you get the most epic views from your wedding venue in Long Island. Work with them to make the most of the natural scenery you have. Ask them if they have any suggestions or ideas regarding lighting or creative first-look shots. While it is optional for you to have drone footage in your wedding video, it will surely help you capture all the natural beauty your venue has to offer from a bird's eye view.

Keeping Your Guests Comfortable

While giving guests information is always helpful, it is always better to go the extra mile and keep them as comfortable as possible. Since your guests will have to be seated for an extended period, you must do everything you can to protect them from any uncomfortable elements outdoors.

Consider providing umbrellas to keep them shaded from sunlight, chilled water or hand-held fans to keep them cool, or shawls or blankets to keep them warm if the temperature outside is chilly.

Use A Microphone During The Ceremony.

Unless you are hosting a wedding with a small guest list, it can be difficult for guests sitting in the back to hear what is being said during an outdoor wedding. It is even more difficult if there are no walls to help with the acoustics and when you add outside noise or wind to the mix. A simple sound system can help you fix this issue in no time.

Ask your venue if they have any on-site sound systems and microphones or local rental recommendations. If you are worried about having a hand-held microphone being intrusive, you can also consider lavaliere mics.

As long as you keep these things in check, you will surely be able to host your dream wedding outdoors and make tons of memories.

#wedding outdoors

[edgewaterfarmcsa]

FALL CSA WEEK 3

P I C K L I S T

JACK O LANTERN - BRUSSEL SPROUTS - LEEKS - POTATOES - JALAPENOS - SWEET PEPPERS - LEMONGRASS - CARROTS - GARLIC - PLUM TOMATOES - SQUASH - MINT

BREAD: OLIVE/ROSEMARY/FETA/ FOCACCIA

Yall.  In an effort to keep the majority of you still showing up to CSA as a result of too many jalapenos, and what the heck do we do with lemongrass, I am moving right into the pro-tips.  But let it be known, that while it is a balmy 70 degrees outside right now (Tuesday afternoon), the temps took a dive this week, the fog did not set, and the farm got frosted.  As a result, please enjoy MAYBE the v last peppers of the season.  Cheers!

Pro-tips:

serves 4

JENNY’S NOTE: I LOVE THIS RECIPE- The flavors are perfect for when the weather turns… but I got bad news in regards to flavors.  With a very heavy heart, I regret to inform you that there will be no fresh ginger making its way to our Fall CSA this year.  For many reasons- many of which are speculations- our ginger crop never really took off.  We do have a little crop growing in a greenhouse, but it is pretty small compared to past years.  However, this dish demands ginger.  Same with Cilantro. If you are a cilantro lover, do source elsewhere… As for the rest: garlic, hot peps, pumpkin/winter squash, lemongrass, mint, we got you. 

A great long ingredient list here, but everything is available in 2 swoops, one right here at CSA pick up, & the next upstreet, at the local Asian grocery (Yipings Asian Market in West Leb)

pumpkin - 1 cup  unpeeled weight

small red bird's eye chillies - 5

garlic - 4 cloves

a lump of ginger the size of your thumb

plump stalks of lemon grass - 2

lime leaves - 6

cilantro roots - 5 or 6

Cilantro leaves - a large handful

a little vegetable oil

chicken or vegetable stock - 500ml

coconut milk - 1 ¾

Plum tomatoes - 4 diced

nam pla (thai fish sauce) - 2 tbs

the juice of a lime

dried noodles - 1 cup

mint leaves - a large handful

Cut the pumpkin into large chunks and place on the top of a steamer. Or, steam it in a colander over a pan of boiling water. The pumpkin should be tender in 12-15 minutes. Remove from the heat.

To make the spice paste, chop the chillies, removing the seeds first if you wish. Peel the garlic and the ginger and chop roughly; put into the bowl of a food processor. Discard the outer leaves of the lemon grass then roughly chop the inner heart leaves, shred the lime leaves and add them to the chillies. Scrub the cilantro roots and cut them off, putting them with the chillies, along with half the cilantro leaves and stems. Blitz them to a pulp, adding a little oil if the mixture needs it to go round.

Place a fairly deep pan over a moderate heat, add half the spice paste (keep the other half in the fridge for tomorrow) and fry it, moving it round the pan so it does not scorch. Do this for a minute or two then pour in the stock and coconut milk and bring to the boil.

Cut the tomatoes in quarters, and add them with the nam pla and the lime juice. They will take seven to 10 minutes to cook. Add the chunks of pumpkin and continue cooking for a minute or two. Place a swirl of noodles in each of the four bowls, pour over the laksa and add the mint and remaining coriander leaves.

 AND IF YOU STILL HAVE LEMONGRASS LEFTOVER: cut & freeze in ziploc to store, add it to chicken broth, or boil for tea :)

½ lb. brussels sprouts, trimmed, halved

¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil

½ tsp. kosher salt, plus more

Freshly ground black pepper

¼ cup Mike's Hot Honey (JENNY’S NOTE: a combo of honey, vinegar, chillies.. Add ingredients together to taste!)

⅓ cup sherry vinegar or red wine vinegar

3 Tbsp. unsalted butter

1 tsp. finely grated lemon zest

Flaky Sea Salt for garnish

Place a rimmed baking sheet on bottom rack of oven; preheat to 450°. Toss brussels sprouts and oil in a large bowl; season with salt and black pepper.

Carefully remove baking sheet from oven. Using tongs, arrange brussels cut side down on baking sheet. Roast brussels on bottom rack until softened and deeply browned, 20–25 minutes.

Meanwhile, bring Mike's Hot Honey to a simmer in a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook, stirring often, until honey is a deep amber color but not burnt (it will be foamy, that’s okay), 3–4 minutes.

Remove from heat and add vinegar and whisk until sauce is smooth (it will bubble up quite aggressively when you add the vinegar before settling). Return saucepan to medium heat, add butter and ½ tsp. salt, and cook, whisking constantly, until glaze is glossy, bubbling, and slightly thickened, 3–4 minutes.

Transfer brussels sprouts to a large bowl. Add glaze and toss to combine. Transfer to a platter and top with lemon zest and flaky sea salt.

LEEKS: cut in half lengthwise and Roast with olive oil until brown. Shave fresh parm on top.  That’s it.  Now please do that on repeat forever and ever, you will be elated every time.

 JALAPENOS!!! I KNOW I KNOW! There is indeed an overwhelming amount of jalapenos here… But not so overwhelming if pickled!  OOOORRRRR….

FROM BON APP, Makes 26–30

6½ oz. sharp cheddar, preferably orange

½ cup sliced pickled jalapeños

1 cup (125 g) all-purpose flour

½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter

½ cup whole milk

1 tsp. Diamond Crystal or ½ tsp. Morton kosher salt

¼ tsp. freshly ground black pepper

5 large eggs, room temperature

Step 1 Preheat oven to 425°. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats. Once you turn on the stove, the dough comes together fast—so get prepared: Grate 6½ oz. sharp cheddar, preferably orange, on the large holes of a box grater. Set 2 Tbsp. aside for sprinkling over gougères later (you should have about 1½ cups left). Finely chop ½ cup sliced pickled jalapeños on a cutting board. Place 1 cup (125 g) all-purpose flour in a small bowl.  Step 2 Cut ½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter into tablespoon-size pieces. Transfer to a medium saucepan and add ½ cup whole milk, 1 tsp. Diamond Crystal or ½ tsp. Morton kosher salt, ¼ tsp. freshly ground black pepper, and ½ cup water. Step 3 Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Reduce heat to medium-low, add flour all at once, then stir vigorously with a wooden spoon until mixture balls up and no spots of dry flour remain, about 30 seconds. Continue to stir with gusto, smacking the dough along the sides and bottom of the saucepan (you’re looking to dry it out without it taking on any color), 3 minutes. You’ll see a film develop on the bottom of the saucepan that will mostly be reabsorbed as you keep stirring. Let cool slightly, 1–2 minutes. Step 4 Continuing with your wooden spoon or switching to an electric mixer, add 4 room-temperature large eggs, one at a time, beating after each addition until fully incorporated (about 30 seconds). Don’t worry if the mixture looks curdled or broken. Separate yolk from remaining 1 room-temperature large egg over a small bowl to catch egg white. Reserve yolk for another use; add egg white to pan and beat until mixture comes together into a smooth, glossy, shiny, and thick batter, 1–2 minutes. Add cheese and jalapeños and stir or beat just until evenly distributed. Step 5 Using a 1½ Tbsp. (#40) cookie scoop or a (heaping) tablespoon, portion scoops of batter onto prepared baking sheets, spacing 1" apart. Sprinkle a little of the reserved grated cheese over each gougère. Step 6 Place in oven and immediately reduce oven temperature to 375°. Bake until super puffy and golden brown all over, 22–28 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

[rengoku-recovery]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

𝔚𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔞 𝔉𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔶 ℭ𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔱

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Pairing: Sanemi x Reader

Summary: Reader sells milk and cheese to the Wisteria house old lady and accidentally meets a wounded Sanemi, but he lies about his duties to gain any form of normalcy even for a little while.

Word count: 4,197

No physical description, no name.

Warnings: grief, blood.

(Photo credit @ mirshroom on Twitter)

Part Three

(Part two at the bottom)

It had been about an hour since I sat down in complete silence. The air wasn't as cold as it had been a few weeks ago, but I felt much colder now. Coming back to an empty house broke me to pieces.

My Mother was gone, she was nowhere near anymore. Even though everyone continued to tell me and shove down my throat that at least she was no longer suffering, I was not prepared. How could I be? First my Father, now her. I was completely and utterly alone.

I saw her in the birds flying free, I could see him in the meadow breaking the cracks of what was once winter and snow. They were everywhere, except with me.

I tried coming to terms with it, to find peace. But every single day, the sky was a sickly gray. The clouds were never white, everything was bleak. Nothing had life inside. I wanted to so badly spread my arms into beautiful wings and follow right behind them, to fly as far away as possible until I could reach them but every time I tried, heavy rain poured down on me.

If only I could see Sanemi, even if I could write him or communicate somehow. I needed to talk with someone so badly, I was growing desperate. Being stuck here with the leftovers of winter only made me feel colder and sink further down into this hole I didn't know I'd fallen into.

Despite all precautionary measures I went over inside my head, all the different ways I could come up with, none had a solution for me to keep the farm afloat by myself. Several people had set offers once they heard of my Mother's passing, but I couldn't let go. How could I let this place go to someone else? After my parents worked so hard to provide the best life for me and our animals, but it was getting too hard for me to mange all on my own.

Among the many offers I gathered, one stood out the most. A neighboring farm, one who's owner was quite close with my Father offered me a good amount of money. Not only that, but offered amazing care for our animals. The one thing I was most worried about was the cows, the chickens, our pig. They were family, but I couldn't care for them all alone. The Man was kind enough to let me visit my animals if I decided to take his offer.

After much thought, and lots of emotional attachment, I decided that was my best option. I had to carry on and somehow make a living. So I sat here all alone, on the eve of my departure. Night had fallen before I knew it, so I decided to make another round to check on my animals. Mostly for myself, I needed to hug them one more time. To apologize to them, to just be with them for one more moment before I had to say good bye. Before leaving the house, I placed the letter for the Man who bought my farm for him to take once morning came. I couldn't face him so I planned on leaving with my money and my things before the sunrise.

The chilly night sent shivers down my spine, but the cold was the least of my worries for now. Biding my farewell seemed far more important for now.

Slowly, I made my way around to every single one of our animals, the last bit of family I had left. Calling my chickens all by name one last time, promising them a beautiful life with their new owner. If my Father was able to trust this Man, I'm sure he'd agree to sell him the farm. I tried hard to tell myself I wasn't going to disappoint my parents for giving up the farm.

Just then I felt a pair of eyes staring at me.

I quickly locked my cows back inside, running out to find Sanemi. Allowing myself to open my arms wide and crash into him, but when my body wrapped around his, I noticed it wasn't him.

Fear kicked in quickly, so quick I didn't want to let go of him in fear. I felt the body under my arms stretch up, grow taller. Squeezing my eyes shut, I still didn't let go. No matter how awkward it moved under my embrace, I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't face whatever was before me, under my grip. I was a coward. But a coward who wouldn't let her cows get hurt. Something seemed to crawl underneath its skin. Sending more shivers down my spine, my throat closed up, and I had to hold it down with all my might before I threw up from the way its skin moved beneath my arms.

An unusual odor rose all around me. Although I couldn't place a smell, it was sour. Dancing all over me, gripping to my clothes, tangling in my hair. It was a decaying stench that threatened once more to turn my stomach. What is this? Who is this person? I questioned in my head, still not letting go in fear of what I will encounter. The fear held me in place, the stench almost pulled me apart. And my animals began to cry out and push. I wondered if they too were afraid.

Unknowingly, I felt a sharp pain at my side. That's when I finally opened my eyes. This creature stood before me, it wasn't human. It didn't look like a man. It's twisted face, the lack of color on its skin. Just then I realized one of its claws had gotten me. He pierced my side, the blood was gushing out quickly. For a second I felt dizzy, so much so that I dropped to my knees. Unable to keep my balance, I accepted my fate. Even the stench went away.

I was crying, but I was unsure of the reason. Must be from the pain I was in. Because I was not afraid to die.

With my farm being picked up by someone with good hands, my animals were safe. I had nothing else to live for now. So I tried to relax, pain was only temporary and once this creature finished with me, I wouldn't feel a single thing. But before I knew it, the creature seemed to open its mouth, wide and whole to take a bite out of me. But it never did.

All I could feel was a familiar gust of wind and the creature's head dropped before it reached my neck. "Fuck! I was too late!" I heard Sanemi curse while he rushed to see my injury.

The loss of blood was happening so fast that I couldn't think straight. Just then I realized Sanemi was too strong. Strong enough to behead the creature in what seemed like one swift movement. I wasn't too sure if the loss of blood was making me hallucinate, but the creature seemed to be fading away, like dust in the wind. Just blowing out.

"Not you!" Under all that was happening, I heard Sanemi cry out, but he was quick to pick me up in his arms and give me a small pill. It hurt to swallow considering how dry my mouth was. But I took it anyway, he quickly wrapped a cloth around my side, tight enough for me to feel the pressure soak up my blood and help it from spilling out at the rate it had been only moments ago. Without much more to say, I couldn't register the look on his face. It all seemed blurry and hazy. But I knew he was worried. In one swift movement, he took me into his arms and held me as he got up only to take off. Part of me wanted to throw up at how fast he was running. The loss of blood must be too much if I feel him speeding up like this. No human could possibly run this fast. But I'm too worn to question it now.

I didn't really know where he was headed, not until I saw the wisteria trees and it all seemed to come together. He didn't wait for anyone to come to the door, he barged right in. The old lady, startled and confused found us in the middle of her garden.

"She's not a demon slayer, but you need to heal her. I'll pay you whatever you ask, just fix her! Please!" I could capture the desperation in his tone, he wasn't angry even if he was yelling. But I was fading away, I wasn't able to register the old lady's response because I fell under a deep slumber.

.

.

.

When I woke up, my eyes had trouble with the light and I was confused. "You're okay, I'm here." I heard his familiar voice call out. He sat across from me, quickly getting up to come by my side.

"What's going on? Where are my cows?" I asked in fear, remembering that one night.

"They're okay, don't worry about that. Lay down, you shouldn't use up too much strength."

My side had a familiar pain, I felt groggy. It was hard to tell how long I'd been out, but I was ready to get all my answers once and for all. He couldn't keep hiding anymore. There's no possible way he can deny me anything now, not after what happened that night.

"Sanemi, you can't lie to me anymore. I want to know." I cut to the chase. There's no point in dragging this out any longer, the elephant in the room needed to be addressed. The way he looked down made me see him in a light I hadn't. Was he nervous? Him?

I allowed him to take his time, I knew he'd talk. "It's extremely complicated, but I know I owe it to you. Especially now," he began to speak, drowning me in his story. Finally, once and for all he was letting me in.

He began by telling me what he did for a living. Although he did hunt, it wasn't animals and prey to sell in local markets. "Not a lot of people know they exist and we try to keep it that way. But you saw it, that thing wasn't human. They eat your blood, that's how they get stronger." He informed me about the different kinds of demons. About his mission. He was like an open book, it felt strange but I was relieved to finally hear more than what we'd shared since we met.

"I believe that's what got your Father. I'm almost certain in the way you described it. They won't go anywhere near wisteria, that's why this house has the wisteria tree. That's why I gave it to you as well. They only come out at night, the sunlight burns them." Thinking back to my father made me ache once again, I was lucky enough that Sanemi found me but my father had no one else.

"What about you?" I ask.

"Me? What about me?"

"Yes, are you human? Maybe I was drifting off but you ran at the speed of light, you chopped its head off with little to no effort."

He nodded. "I'm human. I'm just like you. We train to be this way, to endure pain, to become stronger and faster. To be able to go head to head with them."

My focus shifted back to my life. Hearing about his made me forget for a second that I was alone. Once he left again I'd be alone forever now. I craved people around me but I also wanted to push everyone away and make no effort to know anyone.

"So when are you going back?"

"We don't have to worry about that now, I'll be here until you're better. I promise."

I did not want to ask any further.

For the next following days while I had bed rest, I did not feel bad anymore. My wound was doing better. I was able to walk normal, to get up. The old Lady never really said much to me while I was there, but she took care of my wound. Sanemi said they only treat demon slayer since they saved this family a long time ago from demons and they wanted to pay it forward. So in return they house and take any one of them who's wounded. So maybe that's why she won't talk to me much.

He confessed he went back to check my animals, since he knew how much they meant to me. He even mentioned that he planned on going once a day until I woke up so he could check on them, but it was quickly cut short. He encountered the man who bought my farm. "He said you left some of your belongings at the farm, but he wanted to hand them to you personally." He stayed quiet, almost as if he was holding his breath. "Why'd you sell your farm? If you love your animals and your land, why give it away? I thought you and your Mother would keep the farm, spring is just around the corner."

He must've known something was up when I remained silent. But I did yearn for someone's companionship during my hard times. Out of all the very few people I know, he would definitely be the one I'd be able to trust with my feelings.

"She's not here anymore," I wanted to say much more, what she meant to me. How badly I lost myself when she took her last breath. But the tears streamed down my face faster than I could pretend they weren't there to begin with. Loneliness was my hardest and most painful affair, I had no idea what to even say anymore. But I knew I had a knot in my throat.

He quickly placed his hand over mine, sending me a warm feeling that quickly spread all over my body. It was his way of letting me know he was here for me, that he truly did care about me even if we barely knew each other. Inside me, I felt as though maybe we really were meant to be in each other's lives. If gravity seemed to pull us together, maybe this was worth giving it a shot. I'd always been more than willing to, but on his end it always felt rocky.

For a second he remains silent and then he takes his hand back. Slumping down on the seat next to my bed. Wondering what might be going on in his head is a front row seat to the ocean. It's vast, it's never ending, it's deep, but you still never know what's in it. I wondered what he could be thinking about and why it is that he is so quiet. The last thing I want is for him to feel sorry for me, but it's hard not to when you know I just lost everything and I have no where else to go. Even I felt sorry for myself. But part of me felt like he could be thinking about his own life, his own loss. What kind of pain has he had to endure? Maybe he's just as lonely as I am, but I might never know. Not the way he continues to disappear from my life and only meeting me by chance.

"I don't know why I'm still here, I kind of wish you hadn't gotten there in time." I confess, finally. The room had fallen too silent that it was beginning to choke me up.

His head bolted up and he gave me a very concerned look. Maybe I spoke without thinking about what would come next, but I was being honest.

"You can't say things like that, it's not okay. You're a lot stronger than what you give yourself credit for." The monotone sound coming out of his voice was a complete contradiction to his concerning look.

"How would you know? You hardly even know me." I was once again angry, and always for the wrong reasons. I knew I couldn't keep blaming him for things he wouldn't do or won't ever get to do.

"You are still here, fighting. You continue on, when I carried you on my back to get here, you lost blood, you were in pain. You had nothing left and you didn't give up. I don't believe it for a second that you were ready to go. And if I have to be here until you realize that, then I'll stay."

That was enough to shut me up.

For the first time since I met him, he seemed stable. Sanemi was a big mystery. I always knew he was close to leaving, but today he gave off a different vibe. I know I'll have him for longer this time. He's determined to be with me until I get better. Part of me wants to keep doing bad so he will never leave. But I understand he must.

Waking up today was different, he had a plan. Not just for his next move but for me as well. It felt nice to feel included even if it was only for a little bit. My wound was almost done healing and doing tasks wasn't painful anymore. Sanemi and I walked back to my farm, where the man awaited for me with my belongings.

I tried my hardest to tune that vision out, to not be fully aware of anything while we stopped by for my stuff. I did say hello to my animals though, I was welcome to visit them anytime and for that I was very grateful. That's the only part of this trip where I allowed myself to be fully aware and take everything in.

"You sure love those cows, huh?" He asked while I was mid embrace with one of them. Just then I realized I was so close to crying. But I held it back.

"Yea, I grew up around all my animals. They're like family." I admitted.

We didn't say a word after that. He let me say goodbye in silence until we were far away from the farm. I dared not look back otherwise I would do something stupid, like cry. And I couldn't afford that right now.

We walked for a long while and he allowed me to stop many times, still very concerned over my wound but I kept insisting saying I was okay. Which I really was, it wasn't uncomfortable anymore.

"I have to show you this place. It's not much, but I think you'll like it."

I was met with a small garden, there were flowers starting to spring and a very small apple tree. A cobblestone path leading to a small house. I never thought about what his house would look like, but for someone as lonely as he said he was, this house didn't seem to fit him at all.

"Is this your house?" I asked looking around at his tiny little garden that caught my eye since we got here.

"Yea, I don't always stop by here but I try to keep it clean when I do." He sheepishly said, looking down. But I wondered why he was shy about it. This house was so lovely and it honestly seemed inviting. He had it kept nicely and even seemed to put work in his little garden.

"It's really nice, I love your garden." I said reaching to touch the Apple tree leaves. I was in awe, this man had such a tough exterior, I would've never guessed he took time out of his day to plant flowers and adorn his entrance with different color cobble stone.

"I figured you might need a place to stay now without your farm,"

"I can't." I cut him off.

"Why? You just sold your farm, where are you gonna go?"

"Sanemi, you have been more than generous with me. I feel I already invaded you and your privacy enough. I can't accept this." I truthfully say, because I do feel that way. And he never meant to meet me a second time, certainly didn't mean to have me living in his home for the time being. I felt wrong.

"I allow this."

He didn't take his eyes away from mine, he was being sincere. I could never be able to repay him for the stuff he's done for me. A stranger who he had no intention of meeting ever again. Someone he kept stumbling across with. And yet every time he was always looking out for me.

"We weren't supposed to meet again, remember?" I ask, bringing him back for reality before I get my heart crushed again. Now I have to be on guard with my emotions. I have no one else to run back to anymore. No where to go.

"And we did, I always knew where to find you. That second time was a coincidence but I always searched for you. I was hoping I would run into you again, but I knew I couldn't. And now we're here." His voice wasn't raised, it was nice and controlled giving me a sense of serenity. But most importantly, it was sincere.

"What happens when you have to go again? I'd rather look for a place myself now and save myself all the heartache." This time I'm the one looking down, I can feel the threatening tears ready to stream down.

He inches closer to me, placing his hand at the tip of my chin. Lifting my chin slightly, he keeps his gaze steady. I feel the shivers run down my neck and I'm nervous again.

"When I go, you'll be here taking care of the house. And I'll come back and we can both take care of the house.  I have missions I have to take care of, but I'll always come back to this house."

The tears finally escaped, but he was quick to cup my face before I completely crumbled down.

For the first time since my Mother's passing, I felt a sense of unity, I felt like I could possibly be safe. Be with someone and never be alone the way I had for the last few weeks.

"You promise you will be coming back?" I managed to speak, finally.

He nodded.

"You won't push me away anymore?" I asked, hoping with all my might I will finally receive an answer I liked.

"I think we're sort of a team now, you take care of me and I take care of you. I don't need to push you away anymore." He gave me a weak smile, but the tears didn't stop streaming on my end.

I didn't even have to apologize for my display of emotion, he seemed to understand and allowed me to express myself however I needed to right now.

He finally led me inside, setting my stuff on his table and attempted to show me around. The house seemed spacious and bigger once we were inside. It felt like a home despite of his tough exterior that made you think he wasn't welcoming, his home was most definitely a safe space.

"We actually have to head to the market and stock up, I only stock up when I'm here but we can just stock up now that someone will be here all the time." He smiled again. The second time today. Making me feel fuzzy inside.

I realized two things.

One, living was way more difficult than I ever imagined. It was draining, it was painful. It was all the things you didn't want to feel, and all those you did. Sometimes the bad outweighs the good and vise versa. And dying was so easy. After being close to dying, I knew he was right. I could have given up then, and I didn't. I was grasping onto anything.

And two, he wasn't going anywhere.

Once night was settling in, we sat in silence ready to cease the longest day. He insisted I take his bed, since he only had a spare room but didn't have anything there yet, he said he was okay to sleep on his couch. Said something along the lines of getting furniture for his spare room soon. But I had a request.

"Hey," I softly called out as he was about to exit the room.

He turned back to look at me and almost smiled. "Yes?"

"Would you stay here instead?" The shakes on my hands were so visible I was sure he was able to spot them from where he stood. "Here with me?" I finished my request.

It seemed forever before Sanemi made his way over to me. But he accepted.

It was awkward at first but once we both laid in silence I finally turned to face him. Unable to fall asleep but still very tired from the trip.

"You can relax, I'll be here in the morning."

And he was.

When I woke up the next morning, he laid next to me. Keeping me warm.

(Part Two)

#demon slayer #kny #hashira #kimetsu no yaiba #fanfic #sanemi x you #sanemi fluff #sanemi angst #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi #shinazugawa #anime #writing