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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 2 years

Note

Yoooo i just wanted to say i love your blog and i love your x male stuff. Glad to see that finally. So i was wondering if you dont mind taking a request for me? You see im a simp for Striker and cowboys in general so i was wondering if you could mabey do a Striker x Cowboy imp male reader? Or just another imp who’s similar to him, thats a cowboy and likes to compete in the Pain Games? Mabey Reader is a bit different than Striker as he is more relaxed that Striker. And whenever Reader is angry he’s just one of those people who are calm while pissed. They scare me honestly. Sorry if that was a bit much didn’t mean to bombard ya.

Striker x male cowboy Imp reader

Life on Wrath was mind numbingly simple.

On Wrath you either get born into a worker family, or a family that owned some pathetic little slice of land one might call a farm.

Either way you'll be working the land your entire life.

And you, born into a dirt picking commoners family, quickly decided that life wasn't for you.

The first chance you got, you got out. Running far, far away from your po-dunk, shit house family.

Of course, you were just a dumb kid, so you quickly found desperate for work and housing, eventually finding yourself on another ranch.

This time however, you got yourself working extermination.

The ranch owner assigning you under a bastard old hunter, the man 'assigned' the task of fending off pests and predators.

It was brutal work. The ranch owner forcing you to work long nights, given sub par equipment with little pay and your "teacher" certainly showed no sympathy.

It was years of gruelling work, handling many a life threatening situation, but you eventually excelled and eventually, usurped your former teacher.

And after the bastard threw one last bottle at you, you challenged him. The two of you dueling on the spot.

He didn't even realise you'd moved until he felt the blade slice his throat.

But honearly, you felt nothing as you did it.

The bastard relished making you suffer through his "teachings." And you felt nothing as you watched the bastard collapse, staring at you as the life drained from him.

All that mattered was he was dead, and you weren't.

You left that day, taking your knowledge and equipment, riding off on your Hell-horse.

It didn't take long to find work. The whole damned ring was one big farm, so there was always something that needed killing.

But you quickly got sick of hunting wolves and overgrown rats.

So you quickly found yourself turned to mercenary work, mostly bounty hunting for local lords and buisnesses, quickly making a name for yourself.

Of course, a large portion of time was just spent dealing with idiots who wanted to prove something.

You would regularly work for ranchers, still finding some simple pleasure in working with cattle or hunting pests, often hired to protect them from one of Hells many predators.

But really, it was a simple, but not too simple a life you'd made for yourself.

One day you'd be hunting some debter, or some wanna be crime boss that'd pissed of the wrong noble.

You always got such a thrill during the hunt.

Or at least most the time you did, there were very few targets truly qualify as a hunt on Wrath, as I mentioned, it's mostly a rather boring community of farmers.

And while you enjoyed the work, you were quickly losing interest in the rather simple bounty jobs.

But luckily for you, you discovered the once a year celebration that was the harvest moon festival.

You didn't care for the festivities or the two bit carnival games.

What you wanted, what you were interested in, was the Pain Games.

You signed up every year without fail, and absolutely relished the whole thing.

Granted, most of your opponents were nobody hicks that had more muscle than brain, but it was at least a good workout.

Of course, you'd also have a run in with one Miss Millie, the girl finally being a real challenge for you.

You began a bitter rivalry with the girl, you being the only opponent she couldn't just kill. And well, you took such joy in seeing her pissed at you.

It was fun.

But, as fun as the pain games were, you needed something to keep you occupied throught the year.

So, you found yourself taking up assassin work, and by Satan, it was exactly what you needed.

It was a real thrill... A Real Hunt.

And it'd be as you were finishing up a job, just about to kill a target, when you ran into none other then Striker, the two of you initially pausing before instantly bickering over who got the kill.

Eventually you settled it over a coin toss, you winning with a heads.

But even as you took aim, Stiker hung about, playfully criticising everything you did. Of course, you still got the kill, rubbing it in the serpenty Imps face.

Striker, for his part, was much like many of the other shmucks you'd encountered.

He was smug, arrogant, and suspiciously well equipped. And well, not wanting to kill him, you tried your best to just ignore him.

But it seemed no matter what job you picked, You'd bump into the damned Cowboy Imp everywhere.

Now granted, you were as much a cowboy as him, you were just less... Smug about it.

He used his Wrathern voice and simple nature as a cover, using peoples assumptions on his nature to make them lower there guard.

You on the other hand were more level headed, and you certainly let people look down on you.

But as annoying as he was, Striker did have a certain... Allure to him.

As smug as he was, he did have the skills to back it all up. The Imp regularly giving you a run for your money, quite literally on many jobs.

Youd initially have a fierce rivalry, although it seemed like Striker was more interested in you then actually winning said rivalry.

And it'd be after you finally snapped at him, asking what he wanted that he'd tell you.

Striker asked you out.

You were shocked, understandably so. And, well, with nothing else to do and no real reason not to, you agreed, the two of you meeting up at a bar he knew.

You found him at the bar, saving a stool for you.

Pulling up a seat, you quickly got to drinking. The two of you talking, quickly bonding over your Wrathern origins.

You weren't all to surprised to find the Imp was much like yourself. The Imp despising the simpletons that inhabited the Wrath.

Granted, most the Imps on every Ring were simpletons. But at least the Imps on other Rings tried to wring more out of life.

The two of you drank some more, chatting and bonding over your shared early life experience, telling jokes and laughing, just having a good time.

But as you spoke, some towering Sinner shmuck came over and demanded your stool.

Striker became noticeably annoyed near instantly, tail rattling in frustration. You always noticed that about the Imp, if he was annoyed, he'd usually show it.

You just sat back, taking a sip of your drink before looking up at the sinner. Rather coldly, telling the man; 'If he wanted it, he should take it.'

So, the sinner, like the shmuck he was, reached out, trying to take your stool.

And he did grab it, for about a second before you sliced his hand off.

The man freaked out, Striker bursting into laughter.

Of course, the sinner didn't appreciate losing his hand, and in his endorphins riddled state, he swung a punch. A punch you instantly avoided, flipping over and smashing your glass into his head.

Flipping up onto the bar, you watched the sinner go down, the whole bars attention turning to you.

Faced with a crowd of angry sinners, you did the only thing you could think of.

"Bar Fight!"

You yelled it, and the sinners quickly obliged, jumping at each other's throats.

You threw a few punches, smashed a few bottles and used them as shanks. Your standard bar fight experience.

Except this time, Striker was by your side. And you had to admit, He was one helluva fighter. The Imp more then holding his own.

Eventually you both scrambled, getting out before it became a real slaughter, the Imp taking you back to his place.

You laughed and joked, and the next thing you knew, you were trying to suck each other's face off.

It quickly devolved in carnal, savage fucking, the two of you going long into the night.

You awoke sore all over, and due to your taste for Wrath moonshine, your hangover was more akin to a mild headache.

You found striker making breakfast, the Imp greeting you, smug as ever.

It was a little awkward, especially since neither of you were willing to be seen as the one who submitted to the other, the two of you bickering like children well past breakfast.

Eventually you ended up just sat there, unsure of what came next, until you asked. "What comes next?"

Striker shrugged, asking if you just wanted to... see what happens.

You agreed, the two of you beginning a rather relaxed relationship.

One of your main "bonding activities" as Striker like to call them, was taking jobs together. And if you were good when competing with each other, you were practically a force of nature when working together.

Your reputation and prestige grew seemingly overnight, quickly becoming none as a dangerous duo. And as your reputations grew, so did your relationship, the two of you getting closer and closer with each successful job.

Of course, between each job, you still spent plenty of time together.

Whether that was out on the town, celebrating a job well done. The two of you, often ending up at a bar, burning through your pay. Before either starting a bar fight or running off to have vigorous sex.

Often times, both.

Sometimes at the same times.

And while you loved Strikers cool, calm and collected nature, even if it his arrogance often got on your nerves. You were honestly surprised at how genuine Striker could be.

Once you got past the small ocean of smugness the Imp seemed to float on, the Snakey Imp was surprisingly deep as a character.

He had likes and dislikes, hobbies and dreams.

Granted, much of those hobbies and dreams involved killing demons and gaining infamy, but he still had personality.

And it seemed the longer you spent together, the deeper and more intimate your relationship became.

The whole thing accumulating during one of your missions.

Youd been hired to wipe out some shitty gang, the two of you getting caught off guard by reinforcements, the two of you pinned behind cover.

Youd just reloaded your pistol, waiting for an opportunity to return fire when you looked over at Striker. And after doing so, you could help but find the Imp just... so handsome. A strange feeling blooming in your chest.

Reaching over, you grabbed his face, turning him to you.

You stared into those ringed eyes before telling him simply,

"I Love You."

Striker was understandably shocked, but quickly smiled, grabbing you by the head and giving you a deep kiss.

You were brought out of your loving stupor by the sound of something metal landing before you.

Breaking the Kiss, and looking down, you found the familiar shape of a grenade.

Striker, as he often did, seemed to act on instinct, snatching it up before jumping, throwing the grenade mid air, firing as the grenade went off.

You quickly followed, jumping into the fight, the two of you fighting until you were the only living beings in a five block radius.

The two of you stood before a battlefield, the smell of blood and gunpowder, the two of you just standing there, chests heaving, weapons still in hand.

Your head turned him him, the snake doing the same.

You stared at each other for several moments.

You practically lunged at each other. You kissed, clawing at each other's clothes, practically tearing them off each other.

You fucked right there, in the centre of that battlefield. And to be completely honest, It was the best sex of your life.

After that, your relationship seemed to become... simpler.

You loved each other, you had a title for those feeling and it was simple as that.

You were in a committed relationship, the two of you forming a very loving. Very Intimate, relationship.

You became the ultimate hellborne powerhouse couple, no job was ever beyond your reach.

And it'd be as you were on the Wrath ring having just finished your latest job, that he'd hand you something.

You were expecting a sharpening stone for your blade, but instead found a small brown case. And looking at him you just found the Imp staring back at you.

Looking back at the case, you popped it open, finding two silver rings.

You just stared at it for several moments, looking up at Striker, the Imp just scratching his neck.

"I was gonna get gold, But... they seemed a little... too indulgent." He finished awkwardly, stepping over and taking one of the Rings.

Taking your hand in his own, he cleared his throat.

"I don't even know if it's a real thing down here or... whatever. And I we don't gotta put a name on it, it's just..."

Looking up, he sighed. Sliding down onto one knee, he asked simply. "Will you marry me, (Y/N)?"

Hearing that, everything hit you, you stumbling back, breath hitching in your throat.

After taking several deep breaths you just nodded, holding your hand out.

With his iconic little smile, Striker slipped the ring onto your finger, you following suit with his ring, the two of you embracing each other, sharing an entense kiss.

You officiated your unholy union on Wrath, stopping by Lust for a week long honeymoon.

A honeymoon that mostly comprised of fine spirits, fine food and many, many long nights in bed.

And laying in your mess of a bed, Striker laid next to you in nothing but assless chaps, you knew he was the only man for you.

#helluva boss #headcanon #helluva boss headcanon #x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss striker #striker x reader #striker #striker x male reader

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chickensarentcheap · 2 years

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Esme stuff

@tragiclyhip, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @secretaryunpaid

We’re ‘fighting’ and he’s grumpy and giving me the silent treatment, but he’s still making my spoiled, bitchy, annoying pregnant ass a smoothie with all my meds and supplements and ‘healthy shit’ in it. If you don’t hear from me again, he also put arsenic in it ;)

#Iloveyou #ImsorryImabitch #hormones #soMANYhormones

Five minutes later they squared up in the middle of the pathway and were soon beating the ever loving hell out of each other. A knock ‘em down, drag ‘em out scrap with bloody noses, black eyes, pulled hair, and lots of rage and tears.

Twins are so much fun!!

Said no one ever.

Took the kids zip lining. This man can not control that thing ;) I am pretty sure the line ‘My anaconda don’t want none...’ was written about his penis.

Looks like my favourite treat will need some TLC later.

#Ivolunteeerastribute! #chickenlegs

Tyler adding a special little personal touch to the new baby’s room. Oh my heart...

She has the entire pool to herself while the others are down at the beach with their dad. Look at this diva.

“Mum, this is the life!”

I agree, sweet pea. We have it real good.

#thankyoudaddy/Tae #youmadethisallpossible

At the stables with Brookie. That’s a proud papa right there. While TJ, Millie and Declan share his love of surfing, Brookie shares his love for animals and horses. She’s quite the little equestrian in training!

#nicebumwhereyafrom? #godtheymakethemgooddownunder #wearjeansmoreoften

We have our first shark sacrifice of the day!

Tell me you’re a surfing/beach bum family without telling me you’re a surfing/beach bum family

My husband, who claims he doesn’t much care for our ‘menagerie’ but is actually quite the farmer: “Made those free loading assholes a new place to live. I’ll make something better once I get all the supplies.”

He’s pissed because the Amazon delivery guy just used the dead end to turn around instead of stopping at the house.

I need this shirt

I don’t know why Barbie’s hair looks like that or why she’s naked, but as you do.

#wemakecutekids

When you finally get your cell phone back and find your littlest ones have gone to town with the selfies. she’s a beauty, isn’t she?

#ourBrookie

“Over there is where you should fuck off to.”

Okay, he didn’t really say that. His dad did voice over. LOL

Renos are done at our little getaway in Tasmania! Husband said ‘tell me what you want and I’ll do it.” So I held him to that LOL

#spoiledwife #handyhusband #IthinkIwillkeephim

A little flashback. TJ is Brookie :) He really is the best big brother :)

When you and the husband hit the genetic jackpot on the first kid. She is look so grown up. And is just so beautiful.

#loveyoubabygirl #always

#Tyler and Esme series #Esme Rake #Rake kids

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angrelysimpping · 2 years

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…. I wanted to leave it at Alex angst but my love for this silly farmer is too strong so I must now fix the mess I’ve made in this scenario. Have more rambling about sad farmer and his whore of a partner:

Well, first of all, if the client comes back to try and grope you more, he’s absolutely punching them in the face. And then he’s getting pissed off when you have to give all your money away that you just barely earned to Briar to keep them from setting the bouncers on Alex and throwing you out of the club. You snap out of it and handle it everything smoothly, like you always do with everything, and Alex feels helpless as the two of you start heading back to the farms. He’s still hurt, obviously, but he’s also facing the extent of what you do to keep you two afloat. When he notices you limping, he stops you and picks you up. You try and tell him it’ll be heavy, but he just shakes his head. He can handle this much. You just loop your arms around him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. Alex is gobsmacked with how there isn’t a hint of tension in your body save for the lingering pain.

When the two of you get home, he showers you himself clumsily, trying to be careful even when his hands are used to being rough. When you’re about to go to bed, he tries leaving you in your room, but you just head on to Alex’s bed as always. The first instinct is to grab a drink, but he’s busy staring at the way you burrow into the bed and look at him expectantly to get into bed too, as if he hadn’t publicly ripped you up just a few hours ago. He’s running his hands through his hair in desperation, trying to find the words and failing, trying to ask why you’re not even mad at him. Joking about how this is hardly the worst thing that someone you’re dating’s done will just make him tear up. Pointing out the farm and his arms are the safest home you’ve had will just make him cry.

It’s awkward for a few days after that while Alex tries to process everything. He drinks more, too, and breakfast is a stilted affair. You leave and come back after school, getting more money, looking exhausted as you trot in with the horse. Alex is right there to help you off the horse, no matter what he was doing before, and starts inspecting you. When he finds you unharmed, he relaxes, and pulls you into a hug. He doesn’t know how to be better for you, to be a good partner, but he’s yours. You’ve seen him at his worst and stayed. You shouldn’t feel like you have to hide the bad from him - you don’t have to do this alone. Finally, the stress that’s lingered on you for days releases, and you break down, drenching his shirt in tears and snot while he squeezes you.

From then on out, even if he’s busy to all hell, if you’re about to leave for town, Alex takes a moment to drop a kiss on top of your head. And when you come back, he breaks into the silliest grin and twirls you around. You’ve made it abundantly clear how you keep choosing him, so he’ll make himself someone worthy of being chosen, even if it’s just by lovin’ ya right.

hello, yes, im crying, help

#alex the farmhand #tw past noncon #oh #oh this is #this is soft #and good #and i love #thank you 💕#others writing #tw past dubcon

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blouisparadise · 3 years

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Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of April. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Like Juice | Explicit | 1639 words

Harry has to piss and he wants to do it in Louis' mouth. Neither really care. Louis even says it tastes like juice.

2) Love Is In The Meadow | Mature | 2028 words

Louis and Harry are having a picnic at they're favorite spot, out in the meadow. The sun is setting and it's the perfect time and place to prove how much they love each other.

3) He's Thinking of You (Like All Of Us Do) | Explicit | 2611 words

Louis Tomlinson is getting absolutely railed by a train (Harry Styles's cock) when his best mate tries to FaceTime him. They're close, Zayn's pretty much seen it all, so Louis doesn't think twice about answering.

4) One Sunday in Hell... | Explicit | 2216 words

Pure PWP based on that one drawing of a bunny boy getting destroyed by a demon..... happy easter!

5) Save A Horse | Explicit | 2738 words

Harry starts a silly campaign with friends and believes that no one will see. Louis is a newly graduated veterinarian desperate to get a job, desperate enough to not read anything beyond the title before calling the farmer.

Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

6) Baby Let Me Love You Goodbye | Teen & Up | 2912 words

Zayn comes back from a meeting with management and spends one last night (unbeknownst) with Louis.

7) Doctor Styles | Mature | 4218 words

In wich Louis gets treated by doctor Styles.

8) Love Shouldn’t Burn | Explicit | 8016 words

Louis was something dangerous — not in a way that would physically scar him but they knew — everyone knew he would end up leaving a mark on Harry.

9) Keep You Next To Me | Explicit | 9977 words

Harry has a secret thing for Louis' feet; Louis figures it out.

10) Let's Shack Up | Explicit | 11257 words

In which Louis wants to wake up in Harry’s arms forever. So he makes a list.

11) Lead Me To Paradise | Explicit | 14615 words

No one told Harry that a paramedic could be this pretty.

12) Blind Faith | Mature | 18498 words

“Harry?” Liam prompted.

“I’m blind,” Harry eventually said, trying his best to keep himself from crying.

Liam was silent for a few moments, before responding, “That’s not exactly news, H. You were blind when I met you a year and a half ago. Have you been in denial this whole time or something?”

“No, Liam,” Harry cut in. “This is different. I’m not legally blind like I used to say. It’s not just my night vision. The tunnel from my tunnel vision has closed. I’m fucking blind! I moved halfway around the world in the hope of finding my soulmate and it’s obviously not happening now. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not even a soulmate is going to want to put up with a blind alpha."

13) No I Love You's, No Goodnight's | Mature | 19947 words

Harry and Louis deal with the biggest obstacle of their marriage. They fight using all the fight that’s in them.

14) You Fit In My Poems (Like A Perfect Rhyme) | Explicit | 27598 words

Harry works in an old bookshop and Louis is the pretty stranger that ends up stranded there in the middle of a storm.

15) Not Everything is So Primitive (Oh, But I’m Giving In) | Explicit | 35809 words

The Mr. and Mrs. Smith au where Harry and Louis have been married for five (six) years and are very happy, thank you very much.

16) Take My Hand (My Whole Life Too) | Explicit | 43893 words

A Crazy Rich Asians AU with a royal twist where Harry is a prince, Louis is most definitely not, and there’s a royal wedding to attend.

17) 'Cause All Our Tomorrows Lead The Way | Explicit | 86562 words

So maybe Louis’ in over his head.

He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.

18) The Entertainment | Explicit | 94779 words

For Harry's upcoming album release, his team dreams of hiring him a PA to help assist with the burden that comes with a launch. Louis Tomlinson is a highly sought-after PA who's worked with many A-listers.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #larry

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dameronology · 3 years

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to make a house a home {agent whiskey}

summary: just a soft weekend away in kentucky w/ our fave cowboy {for @zazzysseoul - thank u so much for ur support and i hope you enjoy!}

warnings: i think one or two swear words? but nothing else!

enjoy,

- jazz

Jack Daniels was good at reading people.

It was part of his job. He had to be observant, had to have a working understanding of body language and non-verbal signals. He was especially diligent about it when it came to you; it wasn’t a purposeful thing, but rather an instinct to keep an eye on the person he loved most in the world. He could read you like a book and some days, it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and maybe he did. There was really no telling with Jack. Every time you finally thought you had experienced every little quirk and trait he had to offer, he managed to pull something out the bag. Whether it was his ability to predict a bad mood before it happened or the way he remembered every tiny little detail of a conversation, he was constantly proving himself to be one hell of a partner.

It was no surprise; Jack thought you deserved the best and so, that’s what he tried to give you. He didn’t often let people into his life, especially not after so much loss, but from the moment you’d met, he knew he could trust you. He’d always been a brilliant judge of character and he’d been completely right about you. You’d turned his entire world upside down; taught him how to love again and reminded him that the things he’d lost could be found again, just with a little care and patience. The empty house he used to come to was filled with love and laughter and little marks of you and him; photos from your various trips, magnets on the fridge, that he brought home from all the countries his job took him to, the little notes you left on his nightstand when you had to slip out for work before he rose. The first time Jack had come through the front door and almost tripped over your shoes, he’d cried - not out of anger or shock, but at the realisation that he was no longer alone.

Jack had the innate desire to look after you. He knew you could handle yourself but that didn’t mean that you had to. You’d been there for him in every sense of the world, and he wanted to do the same, to make sure that you felt appreciated every second of every day. In his mind, if you ever questioned his love or loyalty, then he wasn’t doing his job right. That desire translated into little things, rather than grand displays of affection; he’d do your laundry when you worked late, sent you sweet texts through out the day and brought you flowers just because. It wasn’t uncommon to find that Jack had filled up your car with gas without asking, or to come home to your favourite take out.

His biggest way, however, was in how well he knew you. Every slight change in demeanour and every variation in the tone of your voice was caught by him; he knew when you were okay, and he knew when you weren’t. He could tell when you were half-way between, and he’d do his best to bring you back to the lighter side. You take comfort in the fact he always had your back, no ifs or buts.

When Jack woke up early one morning to find your side of the bed empty, he immediately knew that was something was up; the second his palm reached out for you, only to be met with a fistful of cold sheets, he knew. You never got out of bed early. There could have been an atomic war happening outside and you still would have refused to move, insisting on five more minutes before nuclear winter hit. The bathroom light was off and there wasn’t anything you could have found in the kitchen. After all, you’d only arrived at the ranch a few hours earlier. You were both tired from a few long weeks at work and escaping the suffocating fog of the city for the rolling hills and fresh air of Kentucky felt like heaven.

Jack sat up, pausing for a moment. There was a gentle creek coming from somewhere; it was steady and rhythmic, ringing from the porch. His shoulder slumped wit relief - you were outside on the porch swing. At 6AM on a cold, winter’s morning. The relief was shorting lived.

Pulling on his robe, Jack rubbed his eyes and headed out towards the porch. Sure enough, you were the first thing he saw, shoulders covered by the plaid shirt he’d worn the previous day and fluffy socks gently brushing against the floor with the movement of the swing. The light above you illuminated you in a soft smoulder, a golden glow cast over you, illuminating your tired eyes and disheveled hair. He would have lectured you about the cold, had you not had a knitted blanket around you.

‘Bit early for you, ain’t it?’ Jack leant against the door frame, gently smiling when your eyes met.

‘What’s early when you haven’t slept yet?’ You aimlessly joked.

Lifting up the blanket, you silently gestured for him to come and sit next to you. Jack obliged, dropping down beside you and winding a large arm around your shoulder. He pulled you into his chest, placing a kiss on your temple. His warm body was a welcome feeling against the cold of the January air.

‘What’s keeping you up?’ He softly coaxed.

‘I don’t know, to be honest.’ You replied. ‘It’s just been a long week.’

‘I get that.’ His voice was slightly murmured. He pulled you even closer, chin resting on your head. ‘But we’re here now, sugar. I think we both need the down time.’

‘Definitely.’ You said. ‘Plus, the view isn’t so bad.’

The ranch overlooked a large field filled with cows and horses; it stretched out for miles, fading away into the distance into a seemingly endless close. The edges of the green pasture were tinged with the pink of a tonic sun rise, pushing away the dark of the night sky. It wasn’t often that you got to watch the sun come up, and it felt a little refreshing to see a new day come. It was fresh; a clean slate, young and naive, but full of possibility. An ironic thought, given that you and Jack were probably going to lay on the sofa the whole day and order take out.

‘You’re right.’ He murmured from beside you.

‘Are you doing that thing where you look at me when I’m talking about a nice view?’ You peered up at him, thinning your eyes.

‘You said it was romantic!’

‘The first five times, Jack!’ You chuckled, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw.

‘Nothing is sacred anymore.’

You settled back against his chest with a smile. ‘I like it here.’

‘Me too.’ He agreed. ‘It’s nice to get away from the Apple. Everything over there if faster than a knife fight in a damn phone booth.’

‘And it doesn’t smell of pizza and...pee.’

You loved New York dearly; it had been your home for many years, and it was also where you’d met Jack. But, whether it was your permanent home, you didn’t know. There were some days when it all got so much. The city never quietened down and you could never quite escape it, even in the comfort of your own apartment. Out here, you were worlds away from that. Crickets were gently purring in the distance, and the only other sound came from the rustling of the animals in the field across the road. It was peaceful. Serene.

‘What if we moved out here when I’m done at the Statesman?’ Jack posed, almost as though he were shy about broaching the subject. ‘We could get a couple horses. Maybe a dog. Heck, if you want a zoo, I’ll get you a zoo.’

‘I’d like that.’ You smiled. ‘I mean living here, not the zoo thing - but a dog and horses sounds nice.’

‘Then a dog and horses we shall get.’ He grinned. ‘Oh! I can teach you to ride.’

‘Or I could just watch you do it.’

‘There’s not a single person in this here town who can’t ride a horse.’ Jack said. ‘Unless a pony would be better.’

‘Why not both? We have enough room.’ You reminded him. ‘Maybe we can re-tile the kitchen too. It’s not that I don’t like the green, it’s just it’s...’

‘...dreadful?’

‘That’s a nice way of putting it.’

Because you didn’t live on the ranch full time, neither of you had put too much effort into making it homely. It was liveable, by all means, but the television in the living room dated back to the first Bush administration and the kitchen was a little too lime for your liking. The place had come furnished by the old owners, which had been a big selling point for Jack. He just wanted somewhere he could live whilst he was in Kentucky and this place had been practical. It wasn’t until you and your eye for interior design came along that he realised how retro it was.

‘There’s a hardware store down the road.’ Jack said. ‘We can get a couple hours sleep and head down there later to see what they got.’

‘Maybe we can find something less green.’

‘I sure fucking hope so.’

---

The next morning, you and Jack bundled up into some warmer clothes and piled into the Bronco, heading for the store downtown. The actual city was miles out, but there lots of little local and independent places. There were little cafes and restaurants, as well as farmers’ markets and fresh produce. You had thought about living here permanently before, but you hadn’t verbalised it until Jack had suggested it first. Given everything that had happened in the past, you’d wanted to do things at his pace, but so far, you’d been perfectly in tune with one another. That was a testament to your relationship as a whole.

‘I just smiled at that woman and she smiled back.’ You muttered to Jack, peering up at the store as you headed through the parking lot.

‘And?’

‘I once smiled at a stranger on the Subway and they told me to piss off.’

Jack chuckled, reaching out to wind his arm around yours. He tangled your fingers together, pulling you flush against his side. It was easier to show physical displays of affection here too. He was always a little paranoid in the city, given how busy it was and how easy it would have been to for an enemy to hide. That was another thing Jack did without thinking; taking tiny little precautions to protect you. He couldn’t even begin to think about losing you. And the thought never popped up here. Never. Only in the city, where everything was loud and overwhelming.

The store itself was pretty big - it was good for you, but confusing for Jack. You had Pinterest boards with inspiration for all your hypothetical future houses, whilst Jack couldn’t the difference between ivory and sand. So, true to character, he let you tighten your grip on his arm and drag him towards the kitchen section, eyes wide like a kid in a candy store. You had a green blank canvas to go wild on, because probably would have agreed to anything. It wasn’t that he was a walk-over, or because he was lazy, he was just genuinely terrible at interior design. Introducing him to build mode on the Sims 4 had been traumatic enough.

You didn’t have to decide anything immediately - after all, he’d said he wanted to move out here after he was done at Statesman. That was just as likely weeks as it was years. He did complain about his job giving him a bad back but you also knew that he enjoyed it. It was all he’d known for such a long time, and he’d worked hard to get to the top. Unbeknownst to you, he’d drop it all in a second if you wanted to relocate now. Even if he had the best job in the world and all the money he could ever want, the only thing Jack really needed was you.

‘Where do we even start?’ He asked, brown eyes staring confusedly at some paint samples.

‘We start with the most important rooms - living room, kitchen, bedroom.’ You replied. ‘I’m thinking something midcentury for downstairs. What d’you think?’

‘Midwhatnow?’ His brows furrowed.

You laughed. ‘Midcentury. So think...Bauhaus. Mid 60s sort of thing.’

‘Right.’ Jack nodded, getting a clearer idea. ‘How about you just to point to things and I’ll either shake my head or nod?’

Yeah, that sounded like a better idea.

And so, you began your trek around the store. Your Pinterest boards came in handy, especially for the kitchen - even Jack was grateful for them, because it meant you moved a little quicker. He did die inside a little when you grabbed a huge trolley and began piling it up with kitchen tiles, counters and cabinet doors, and even more so when you casually asked ‘you’re good at DIY, right?’

He didn’t complain though, not once. The sight of you rushing around the store, face lighting up at lamp shades and paint samples, was one of the best things he’d ever seen. Not only because it was hilarious, but also because it was the first time you really planned for your future. There was sort of an unspoken agreement that this was it, and that you were both in it for the long run, but neither of you had made any verbal plans together. You’d moved in together back in the city, but that had happened naturally. You’d started staying over and over more and more to sleep in his fancy Statesman bed and use his heavenly marble bathtub, and you came over one weekend and just never left.

After a few hours, Jack finally had to put a stop to your antics.

‘Okay, darlin’, I think we’ve reached the threshold now.’ He called. ‘We don’t need a new lighting fixture for the downstairs bathroom.’

You huffed. ‘Placing it back on the shelf.’

‘Fine.’

‘We’re gonna have a hard time getting in this car as it is.’ He held his arm out to you, signalling for you to come back to him.

‘I’ll have to come back for the upstairs then.’ You muttered.

‘We’ve gone from painting the kitchen to gutting the whole damn ranch, baby.’ Jack replied. ‘We’re only here for two more days anyways.’

‘Damn. I forgot about that.’ Your eyes widened. ‘I guess we better start today, then.’

This was supposed to be a relaxing weekend.

Relaxing!

And yet somehow, Jack Daniels was stood in the middle of his now half-demolished kitchen, a sledge hammer in one hand and a glass of his namesake whiskey in the other. He couldn’t deny that it had been fun to rip out the cabinets and tear off the tiles. He’d despised the colour of the kitchen for so long that it felt good to finally get rid of them, even if it meant that the tedious process of putting on the new ones came immediately after. You’d gone for simple black and white ones, with some mosaic ones for a...what had you called it? A feature wall or something. Apparently it added character (something he took your word for).

‘So what’s the paint for?’ Jack frowned, taking a brush as you handed it to him.

‘For the living room.’ You grabbed him by the shirt, dragging him out the kitchen.

‘But the kitchen isn’t done-’

‘- I’m bored of the kitchen.’ You said. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Course not, angel.’ He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

After grappling with covering the furniture up, you and Jack began to paint. It wasn’t too hard of a process; he just sort of whacked it on, whilst you had a much more meticulous process. So what if he got a splash of grey on the light switch? Actually, on second second thought, he should probably wipe that off.

Besides, it only took him five minutes to get sidetracked. The sight of you stood across the room, his red and black plaid shirt hanging from your shoulders, face screwed up with concentration and paint on your nose, was a distraction in itself. It was the sort of moment he wanted to get on a Polaroid, but equally, one that he wanted to savour. He always entranced by you, but sometimes that amplified. You weren’t even doing anything special - just...existing. But that was enough to capture his attention in its entirety.

He didn’t tear his eyes away from you - not until something cold hit him in the face, and a splatter of grey paint nearly hit his eye. The noise of your laughter pulled him back to reality, practically losing it as you doubled over, holding onto the fire place for support. You were lucky that it was his favourite sound but heck, you coulda dumped the whole bucket of paint on him and he wouldn’t have flinched.

‘That was rude.’ Jack folded his arms across his chest. ‘I’m gonna get you for that.’

‘No, you won’t.’

You dropped your paintbrush, suddenly leaping over the couch and sprinting out into the hallway. Trying to outrun a highly-trained government agent (a fact you sometimes forgot) might have not been your brightest idea, but you still managed to breeze past him and skid into the kitchen, almost tripping over a strewn tile as you did.

Jack was hot on your heels, arms reaching out to grab as you circled back into the living room. He managed to snatch you by the waist, pulling you down onto the sheet-covered couch - he was nice enough to use his own body to break the landing at least. You landed on his chest with a thud, still in a fit of giggles as he grabbed your face and planted kisses all over it. His lips were soft and warm, tasting of whiskey when they finally met yours. You tangled your hand through his hair in an attempt to bring him close, as though it were even possible.

You broke the kiss, rolling off of Jack and onto the sofa next to him, nuzzling into his side. The paint you’d managed to get on him was on you now as well, smeared down the side of your face and a little onto his shirt that you were wearing. Not that it bothered him all that much, because the sight of you in any of his clothes was worth a little bit of paint. You had a sort of rotation, where you would steal various garments and wear them until they lost his smell, before dumping them in the laundry and swiping some more. They were always baggy, scented with his aftershave and the faint smell of the leather from his car. When he was away on missions, it was the nearest thing you could get to one of his warm hugs.

‘Darling, d’you think, just maybe, that we should just pay someone to do all this?’ Jack gently suggested. ‘I can have a guy from the agency come in and be done in like three days.’

‘Three days? For the whole house?’ You peered up at him with a frown.

‘Their speciality is rebuilding places after we accidentally blow them up so this will be like a walk in the park.’ He explained. ‘Although, the kitchen isn’t far off. the place is lookin’ as messy as the farmers’ market after sundown.’

‘And Champ won’t mind you abusing Statesman resources like that?’ You teased.

‘The man is so rich that he buys a new boat when the other gets wet.’ Jack reminded you. ‘He ain’t gonna notice.’

‘You have a point.’ You nodded.

‘Besides, they’re better at decorating-’

‘- interior design.’ You cut him off. ‘It’s a house, not a Christmas cookie.’

Jack dropped his head against yours, letting out a groan. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘I know.’ You leant up to press another soft kiss to his lips. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, angel.’

Even though it was still a little far off, the glimpse that this weekend had given you into your future meant everything to him. He’d brought the ranch as a place to crash on business stays, and now you were helping to turn it into a home. At one point, he hadn’t imagine having a life to look ahead to or a house to decorate or somebody to love. Even though they were small, everyday things, you’d brought so much into his life, and he was never going to let you forget it.

#i want jack daniels to call me angel please #pLEASE #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels fluff #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x y/n #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fluff #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels imagine #agent whiskey imagine

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tothemeadow · 3 years

Text

Serendipity [Chapter 1]

When the kingdom of Ainamoryp falls, a motley crew of unlikely allies must come together to save the country.

warnings: swearing, mentions of death, mentions of blood

words: 3.8k

(a/n): All characters range from 19-20. Reader insert, reverse harem.

Dinton Keep, Ainamoryp, May 3rd, 492, 00:43

“The king! The king is dead!”

As soon as the declaration is shouted, there’s a growl of pain, then the unceremonious thump as a body hits the ground.

All around, flames lick at the stone walls, set the sky ablaze. The inky hue of the night is abruptly ruined by a brilliant orange, the smell of burning wood and bodies drifting along with the night’s breeze. The clamoring of swords crashing against each other rings throughout the air, seemingly traveling for miles. Horrified screams and blood-thirsty growls make for a gruesome, twisted melody, one that imprints itself on the brain and promises itself its unholy stay.

Heavy pants, cloudy eyes, a desire for murder.

This is what keeps Prince Shouto pressing forward.

Flanked by two guards, the three scramble through the narrow halls – the hidden passageways hidden behind the castle walls. A mere torch is their only source of light, a pitiful flame compared to the hellstorm raging through the city’s streets. Their movements are rushed, silent; there’s no time to be discussing the finer details of the invasion when the only thing playing on their minds it escaping. Gods be damned if more royal blood be spilt on the stone, seeping through and leaving a burgundy scar.

Despite the silence cloaking them, Shouto grits his teeth, the urge to turn back and fight ever present and growing. That’s his kingdom who’s suffering, hundreds of innocent people dying, suffering. And for what? Power? Wealth? If it were up to him, he’d go back and slaughter those intruding the lands, planting their flags and proclaiming their victory.

This isn’t how things were supposed to go.

“Please, my prince, we must keep moving,” the guard in front throws over his shoulder, as if sensing Shouto’s inner turmoil. “We have to get you away immediately.”

Funny how this works, how simple guards think they can control their prince, a member of the royal family. He could easily rip them a new one, put them in their place and insist they stand their ground, but he knows they’re right. There are too many enemies, even by Shouto’s standards. Even if he stayed around and fought, there isn’t a doubt in his mind that he would be slain right there on the spot.

Up ahead, a rickety wooden door comes into view, a heavy bolt holding it shut. The metal creaks as the frontmost guard slides it loose and opens the door. Heavy smoke hangs in the air, slowly spreading towards the surrounding woods and farmlands. Shouto’s heart clenches at the sight, at the putrid odor of death, the sounds of petrified screams. Closing his eyes, he tries to calm his rapidly beating heart, the anger boiling in his blood twinging the outlines of his vision red.

He’s a complete and utter fool for abandoning those who need him most.

Still, he allows the guards to lead him to an awaiting horse, a brilliant beast the color of ivory. Swinging up and onto the saddle with graceful ease, his cloak flutters behind him.

“Go! Now!” the guard with the torch bellows, eyes latching onto a group of enemy soldiers scaling a wall. “Get out of here!”

“You’ll be killed, dammit!” Shouto proclaims, his anger finally boiling over. “I refuse to have anybody else shed their blood!”

“You’re the prince, your highness,” the guard shoots back, both he and the other one drawing their swords. “There’s a watchpoint south of here, hidden away in the woods. Get there, seek for help. The soldiers there will lead you to safety.”

“Bastards, the lot of them,” Shouto hisses, “I can stay and fight.”

“No! You must go!” Before Shouto is given a chance to say anything in return, the guard strikes the horses rear. Letting out a shrill whinny, the horse rears up, landing back down heavily and taking off at a breakneck speed.

Cursing under his breath, Shouto watches over his shoulder as the two guards confront the enemy soldiers. They soon disappear from sight, leaving only the smoldering haze and raging fires encompassing the silhouette of Shouto’s childhood home. As the castle and surrounding city grow smaller and smaller with each impounding trollop of the horse, he can’t tear his eyes away, even long after it disappears from the horizon.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Levalon, Ainamoryp, May 3rd, 492, 10:14

Easy does it now, easy does it… Don’t get too close… And… Gotcha!

Snatching his hand away, Zenitsu quickly stashes the pigskin coin purse underneath his cloak. Heh, suckers, the lot of them. Most of them couldn’t tell the difference between their right hand and a horse’s ass, much less when someone steals their coinage. Briskly turning on his heel, he walks away, whistling casually.

It’s so easy.

On the market streets of the town, a large sea of people roam from stall to stall, buying smoked meats, freshly baked breads, the farmers’ latest pickings. It’s a jolly scene, the constant chatter of patrons and high-pitched yelps of young boys trying to direct potential customers to their father’s stalls. Zenitsu grew up on these streets, raised right alongside other peasant boys with no home or family to call their own. Perhaps it’s a sad story, one meant for lonely nights and listening ears, but it’s Zenitsu’s lineage. It’s what made him into what he is today, a thief with deft fingers and a pair of legs that could challenge a horse in a race.

An easy smile comes to his face. He’s long since grown used to the smell of piss and sweat clinging to the cobbled street, the hollow-eyed children staring long after the people carrying baskets and sacks of food. Everything is so horribly imperfect, but this is home. Hell, although he’s making his living in a dishonest way, it’s enough to keep a roof over his head and food in his tummy. And maybe, if he saves up enough coin, roll around in a bed of hay with a large breasted whore.

Sidestepping the crowd, he makes way towards the local tavern (Ye Olde Wife, can you believe that?), breakfast and busty barmaids on the mind. If possible, the patrons inside the tavern are nearly as loud as the ones outside. Kicking the door shut, Zenitsu heads for his usual spot at the bar, sliding onto the wobbly stool and shucking his hood down. Ale and body odor permeate his nose, the smell foul yet welcoming. Nothing is more greeting than sweaty men and alcohol.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” the owner’s crackly voice says. A stout old man with wild hair and a bushy mustache, he’s about as rough as they come, but to Zenitsu, he’s probably the closest thing to family that he’s ever had.

“Oh, come on, Gramps,” Zenitsu says, tapping the bar top with his fingertips. “You love seeing me, eh? I bring you plenty of service-“

“You flirt with the girls in here more than you order anything,” Gramps spits. Even so, he starts to step away, already heading to the kitchen to fetch Zenitsu something to eat. “Ungrateful bastard – it’s a wonder you’re not a father yet.”

“Yet!” Zenitsu calls after him. “Don’t jinx me, Gramps!” Easing back, he turns around, resting his elbows on top of the bar. Now that he’s closer to the kitchens, the smell of succulent meat turning on a spit makes his mouth water and his stomach growl. Gods, he is hungry. While he could easily steal something from the stalls lining the market street, he normally comes to Gramps’ tavern for a proper meal. And yeah, maybe he ogles the barmaids while he’s at it, but it’s merely a dinner and a show for him.

“Oh, shit,” some random man sitting at a nearby table says. “You mean you haven’t heard about the capital?” Along with him sits another man – they’re most likely miners, if their builds and dirty fingernails say anything. Knocking back his cup, the other merely shakes his head. “Them bastards from the north – Nialliv – they stormed it. Took Dinton Keep as their own.”

Now, it’s usually polite to not listen in on others’ conversations, but this is Zenitsu here. For as long as he can remember, his sense of hearing is astronomically better than the average human’s, and it’s actually quite a useful tool when it comes to his particular jobs. But this… The capital city being taken over? How come he hasn’t heard anything before?

“You’re telling me that Dinton Keep isn’t ours? Watch the shite spilling from your mouth,” the other man grumbles.

“Aye, it’s true. Took in the wee hours of this morning, I tell you. Apparently, the king is dead.”

At that, Zenitsu stiffens. The king? Dead?

“Fuck,” the companion curses. “And they haven’t said anything yet?”

The first one shakes his meaty head. “Only a few know, I guess. The messengers probably all got their throats slit. Gods bless their souls. It’d be a miracle if we’re all not dead by the end of the month.”

“How many are dead?”

“Hundreds, I take it. Mostly guards and members of the royal court, probably. No point in killing civilians if you don’t want to clean up the mess.”

“And the prince?”

“Disappeared. Haven’t heard if they found his body or not.”

“Oi,” Gramps barks, slamming a plate down on the bar before Zenitsu.

With a jolt, Zenitsu yelps. Whipping back around, he flashes Gramps with wide eyes. “Gramps,” he whisper-yells, “is it true?”

Cocking a bushy brow, Gramps leans forward, arms crossed over his chest. “Is what true?”

“That the king is dead,” Zenitsu says, slowly. He can hardly believe the words are coming out of his own mouth.

Pointing a thick finger at him, Gramps flashes him a warning look. “It’s not your damn business spreading the news around. People are gonna be in a panic when it goes public.”

Zenitsu pales. “No way…”

“I had a carrier pigeon come in this morning,” Gramps continues, voice tight. “Unless they kick them bastards out of Dinton Keep, Ainamoryp can kiss its ass goodbye.”

Glancing down at the steaming meat and eggs in front of him, Zenitsu’s body immediately says that his appetite is gone.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Roman Sea, off the coast of Ainamoryp, May 3rd, 492, 12:39

“Captain! Land clear up ahead!”

“Well, what the fuck you waiting for? This ship isn’t going to dock itself!” you screech.

The sky above is a limitless blue, not a hint of a cloud in the sky. The sun itself seems in a good mood, as does the waters. Your ship heads towards your homeland gracefully, the waves slapping against the sides in a hello, welcome back. As much as you love sailing and exploring new lands, home forever beckons for you, calls you back with welcoming arms. There’s nothing as relieving as setting foot on familiar land.

Although you’re young, you’re powerful. Already a captain of your own crew, the proud owner of The Pearl Lady, you’re meant to go places and the gods are surely smiling down at you. Granted, the overexposure of sun and salt water may have left your skin permanently freckled and mind scrambled, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re a force to be trifled with, and all be damned if they dare challenge you.

Hands settled on the wooden railing, you watch as the rest of your crew scrambles to prepare for docking, lowering the sails and readying the anchor. The coast of Ainanomyrp glimmers under the afternoon sun, truly a sight to behold, but something feels… off. Normally, other boats come to and from the mouth of inland, the capital city of Endeavor being a major port. However, there’s not another boat on the water, not even the small dingeys for fishing.

Your ship glides in smoothly, coming to a gradual stop by an open dock. Your crew pushes the anchor overboard, the salty water giving a final splash as your boat jolts to a stop. Hell, even the docks are unnaturally silent, not even a single ship hand or merchant in sight. All other vessels are docked, their decks bare of any people. Your crew shifts uneasily, clearly noticing the strange lack of other human beings.

“Uh, Captain?” the quartermaster asks you, hand instinctively landing on the butt of his pistol as he glances around, “Should we lift anchor and sail to another port?”

“Like hell we are,” you grunt, narrowing your eyes. Something’s coming. You can feel it.

Stepping away from the railing, you saunter down to the main deck, heading to the side where your crew set the bridge down. The clunk of wood striking wood echoes into the air; instead of it being a relieving sound – a sign that you’re truly home – it’s ominous. It’s only a matter of time before disaster hits.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” you tell your crew, “Something isn’t right.”

“Halt!” an unknown voice calls. Straining your neck forward, you catch sight of a small patrol of guards in dark gray armor clamber down the cobblestone steps leading from the streets to docks. While it’s somewhat of a relief to see actual human beings, you’re immediately on edge, body stiffening. Those are not the given uniforms of Ainamorypan soldiers.

“Fuck,” you grumble, biting the inside of your cheek.

Metal clanking against wooden boards fills the tense atmosphere as the patrol comes up to your ship. The group stands ramrod-straight, faces stoic, eyes sharp. The leader steps forward, neck craning as he looks up at you. “Who goes there?” he barks.

Clicking your tongue, you lean over the side of the ship, elbows resting on the weathered wood. “A bunch of merchants returning home. Everybody’s got to make a living somehow, eh? Now, if you’d kindly fuck off, I’d like to step on some actual dirt for once.”

The guard sneers, expression turning ugly as he flashes yellow teeth. “All incoming and outgoing ships are to be registered. And, as far as I’m concerned, your shitty dingey isn’t on the list.” With a metallic snap of his fingers, one of his followers hands him a clipboard and a hunk of charcoal. “Ship name, captain’s name, date of arrival and planned dismissal.”

At that, you bark out an incredulous laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me? When was this instilled?”

“Just this morning, actually,” the guard snips. “Since I’m feeling merciful, I’ll let you off with a warning just this once. Follow these orders or we’ll have no other option than to imprison you.”

Prison? Seriously? Just who did this dickhead think he’s talking to?

Scoffing, you draw yourself to a full stand, placing your hands on your hips. You could easily pull out your pistol and try to shoot one of the damned guards, but lead balls aren’t going to do much against a full suit of armor. “And I’m pretty sure I told you to fuck off.”

The same guard who gave the leader the clipboard and charcoal steps close and leans in, whispering something into the leader’s ear. The leader spares you a single glance, his eyebrow cocking in interest. With a wave of his hand, the rest of the patrol storm the ship, drawing their blades. Your crew readies their own blades and brandishes their pistols, murmuring unsure words.

“Captain (l/n) of The Pearl Lady,” the lead guard says, scribbling it onto his parchment. “Such a pleasure to meet a wanted criminal.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Dinton Keep’s dungeons, Ainamoryp, 492, May 3rd, 13:00

“Oi, oi! Keep your grubby hands off of me!” you bark, shoving yourself against the guards holding you by the biceps.

“Shut your damn trap, you filthy pirate,” the guard on your right seethes, his putrid breath clogging your nostrils. “Thinking you can just waltz right into Endeavor? What are you, an idiot?”

“Far as I was concerned, Endeavor used to be leagues more friendly than this horse shit.”

“I told you to shut up,” the guard barks. Lifting a hand, he cracks up alongside the back of your skull, leaving a thrumming ache. The other guard merely stays silent as he shoves you into the other’s arms, fishing a set of keys from his side and opening the door to a cell. “Fucking rot for all I care,” the guard spits, pushing you into the dingy space.

You sputter as you crash onto the jagged rock, your palms scraping against the surface. You hiss in pain as the guards slam the gate shut and lock it. The one who mocked you takes off with a bark of laughter as the other simply follows behind. “Bloody bastards,” you grunt as they disappear from sight. “I oughta wring their necks and hang them from the bow.”

“Are you alright?” a new voice speaks.

With a screech, you fling yourself to the side, your hip screaming in pain as a sharp rock digs into the flesh. You instinctively reach for your sword, only to be left blubbering curse after curse after remembering that the guards confiscated all of your weapons. Perched on the windowsill sits a boy no older than you, head topped with messy green curls and a face adorned with a sea of freckles.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” the stranger proclaims, waving his hands frantically before him. Hopping down from the wall, he holds his hands in front of him, much like he’s encountering a vicious wild beast. Which isn’t totally wrong, but still.

“Bullshit you didn’t! I’ll kick your ass, mate!” Scrambling onto your feet, your press your back against the cold stone wall, bloody hand clutching your bruised hip.

“I swear it! It’s just… Well…. Look, your hands are bleeding,” the stranger says, turning his hands so his palms are facing upwards. “Let me treat them.”

Your face curls into a snarl. “And why would I do that?”

“I’m a healer,” he continues, stepping forward and snatching your wrist. You yelp at the sudden contact and try to rip your hand away, but his grip is strong. Now that he’s up close and personal, you can’t deny the fact that he’s tall and muscular, the sleeves of his tunic rolled up and exposing the veins and scars riddling his forearms.

Holding your wrist with one hand, the other hovers above your scraped, bloody palm. A golden light emits from his hand, casting a warm glow over your own. Ah, so this guy is a magic wielder. While it isn’t uncommon for people to practice magic, you yourself have never taken an interest in it. Magic can be a finnicky force to deal with, and one who cannot rein in its power may be subjected to a world full of hurt.

With a sigh, you keep your emotions under control and allow this stranger to continue his treatment. For one, this guy is healing you for free, and secondly, he appears as though he can easily throw you through the stone wall with little effort.

“There,” he says once he’s finished, gingerly retracting his hands and flashing you a tiny smile. “It’s all better now, see?”

Staring down at your hands, you flex them into fists, noticing how whatever tension that was in them had disappeared along with the scrapes. Magic can truly be a wonderous thing, but in the wrong hands… Well, things don’t turn out as pretty.

“I don’t get it,” you say, sidestepping the stranger and planting yourself on the pile of dirty hay strewn about the floor, “why is a healer in a dungeon, of all places?”

At your question, the stranger visibly perks up. He follows your movements, getting onto the floor and sitting across from you. “I guess a proper introduction is needed, huh?” he says, scratching his cheek in embarrassment. “My name is Izuku. Izuku Midoriya. It’s a pleasure!”

“I didn’t ask for your name,” you snap. “I asked you why you’re here, not who you are.”

At that, Izuku huffs and physically deflates. “You remind me a lot of Kacchan…”

“By the gods, do you know how to answer a simple question? You know what, don’t even answer that-“

“The king is dead,” Izuku says, cutting you off. His large eyes don’t hold their friendly glow anymore, but rather one of determination and anger. “He was killed last night.”

You blink rapidly at him, your mind throwing itself in for a loop. Wait, wait, the king is dead? How is that even possible? The king isn’t a weakling, and you’ve heard stories of him being a powerful fire sorcerer. But now that you think about it, it would explain the change in guards, the lack of people filling the once busy docks and streets…

You inhale sharply. “How?” you ask, voice small.

“Forces from Nialliv intruded the country last night and took Dinton Keep by force. People were…” Izuku stops, wets his lips. “People are gone,” he finally forces out. “The king is dead, the prince is nowhere to be seen, and all of Ainamoryp is going to lose hope.” Wringing his hands, his gaze drops. “I was here when the intrusion happened. I was fighting off enemy soldiers with all my might, but I couldn’t save the city. People are dead because I didn’t work hard enough.”

“And then you were captured,” you say. “But why not killed?”

“They found out I was a healer – well, I specialize in herbology, but the point still stands. They had men and women on their side who needed medical attention, and I was simply another pair of hands to them,” Izuku answers dryly. “They threw me in here once everybody was treated.”

“Then why’d you help them? They’re the enemy, you fool. You wanna know what I would’ve done? Slit every single last one of their throats.” Shaking your head, you lean back against the wall and laugh, but there’s no humor to it. “When you have the opportunity to fuck your opponent over, you take it.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Izuku snaps, clenching his fists in his lap. “I can’t stand seeing others hurt. I’m a healer, for gods’ sakes. Not everyone is some filthy, selfish pirate like you.”

Snapping your attention back to him, you send him a steely glare.

“Wait, wait,” Izuku hastily says, reaching up and smacking himself on the forehead, “I didn’t mean that-“

“You said what you said,” you interject. “And you know what? You’re right. I’m so fucking filthy and selfish that I’m the captain of The Pearl Lady. I bathe in blood and gold, you pathetic little twat. And I like it. So, do us both a favor, shut your damn trap, and leave me the hell alone.”

Izuku audibly gulps, his hands falling limp in his lap. You almost want to laugh at him; whenever somebody hears of your infamous title, their reactions are all the same. Despite the stigma towards pirates, you’re still pretty damn powerful, and your crew voted you as captain for a reason. Turning away from Izuku, you settle onto your side, willing for either sleep to take over or for Izuku to magically disappear.

Your quartermaster was right – you should’ve lifted anchor and docked somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #mha #bnha #ny hero academia #boku no hero academia #kny x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny bnha crossover #serendipity fic

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daily-best-jokes · 3 years

Text

In honor of Norm Macdonald, here is my favorite joke of his.

There was a fella, a little boy named Dirty Johnny. He'd always be the hellion in class and his teacher didn't think much of him.

So the teacher had an in-class project, and she says "Now this is what you're gonna do here, class. I want you to stand up, and tell the class a story from your life, and then afterwards say the moral to that story." A little girl raises her hand. "Yes Becky, what's your story?"

"My dad works for the hatchery here in town, and what happened was he got about 15 eggs, and he put them all in one basket. And he put it on the horse and buggy and drove back home, and by God," Becky says, "the bouncing, and...all the eggs broke."

"Well, that's a good story," the teacher says, "but what would the moral be to that?" Becky says "Well the moral is, don't put all your eggs into one basket."

"Well God damn," the teacher says, "that's a good one. Anybody else?" Marjorie puts up her hand. "Marjorie, what's your story?"

She says, "Well, my dad works for the hatchery, as most all of us...thank God for the hatchery," she says, "or we'd all be lost. But anyways, my dad knows that eggs become chickens. And so he was...counting his chickens, and he added in the eggs, you see. And then he put them on a horse and buggy to go to town, and they all broke."

"Well what's the lesson to that?" the teacher says. She says, "Well don't count your chickens before they hatch out of an egg!"

So the teacher says "That's a great one too. Anybody else?"

Well wouldn't you know it, Dirty Johnny has his hand up. So the teacher's like 'Holy God...I don't want it, but on the other hand, I made an oath to...every child should...I suppose I gotta...' "Alright Dirty Johnny, what do you have to say?"

Johnny stands up.

"This story's about my uncle Terry. He never worked at the hatchery, on account of he was in Vietnam, and he got disability. He don't even like people that work at the hatchery. But this story happened faaaaaaar from these shores... in a little town called Da Nang. Terry was not well liked. His whole troop left him, abandoned, and he woke up in the weeds, and all they left him with was three bottles of Jack Daniels and some weapons. Terry stood up, downed one bottle right away, and said 'If I'm going out, I'm going out.' He took his Kalashnikov, a couple of glocks and his two bottles, and away he went. He found a town, and he didn't know if it was Charlie or if it was one he was sent to protect, but all he knew was he had hate in his gut. So he started firing, and he fired that Kalashnikov with an arching kind of...like a farmer would with hay, with a scythe. And sure enough the men fell like hay before him, and then the women, and by God I'm ashamed to say it, but then the children. And finally all that was left was uncle Terry, standing in the mud and the blood and the glory. And he touched his pants, and it was wet, and he was ashamed. He felt shame, uncle Terry, for he'd pissed himself. Well he touched it again; it was not urine at all, but ejaculate. And uncle Terry felt pride where shame once was."

The teacher's like "Good Christ! What kind of story is that? What the hell is the moral to that?"

He says, "When uncle Terry's been drinking you don't fuck with him."

submitted by /u/Hipp013 [link] [comments]

#jokes #fun #humor #joke #funny jokes #funny #lol #texts #funny texts #haha

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willowaudreykeyes · 4 years

Text

Monster AU Idea that I don’t know what to do with

Literally what the title says. Idk what to do with this, but its in my head and so i need to write it down and share it before my brain explodes. Talk about it or ask about it; whatever you want. As long as I know about it as it is still my idea, go nuts.

@ladyedwina @sparrowofsong

Warning: Does involve murder, being captured, lots of depressed Roman because I’m mean to him for no reason and it makes me sad, gory removal of fingers (not detailed but it is there), suicide mention, me swearing a lot, stabbing(not detailed), hints of Roceit; Intrulogical and qpr Pattmile

Spider Monster Who-Realises-That-His-Race-Sucks Virgil

Born like this. Was raised to be alone but he likes being around others to feel safe, so it makes him a little awkward and even anxious around others.

Hates the rest of his kind because he’s the only one who doesn’t want to eat people. So now they all wanna kill him.

He can retract his extra legs but it leaves small bumps in his back, so he likes to wear his over-sized hoodie to help hide them.

Janus saved him from one of his own kind. Travelled with him and Logan before getting separated by Monster Hunters and running into a lonely wolf-Patton.

Is now Patton’s spider child, despite the fact that said father figure is afraid of spiders. And that Virgil is technically older then him. He does try to look past the ‘too-many-eyes’ and ‘long, hairy legs’ thing; which Virgil appreciates.

The only one of the group that knows how mobiles work and he finds it funny as fuck.

Werewolf Underdog (ha) Patton

Runt of the litter.

Can shift between a humany appearance, an actual grey-brown wolf and a bipedal werewolf. He isn’t the third one often and actually enjoys being a more typical wolf as he can be passed off as a wolf-dog hybrid and has gotten free bones and pets.

Ran away from his pack as they didn’t want him to die but also didn’t want him to get stronger, then raised a bunch of homeless orphans at a young age and also defended them from a trafficking ring by ripping out a bunch of people’s throats.

Yeah... he brought them to an orphanage afterwards as it’s safer then the streets. Then he ran away again; at this point he’s only 15-16.

Lives alone and homeless for a few more years before running into Virgil and immediately adopting him.

Patton helped Virgil find Janus and Logan so now he has more children (who are all older then him but he ignores that).

No one will go hungry EVER with Patton is around. He is the caretaker of this pack and he will not let his pups feel hungry ever-

He’s not over how shitty his pack was to him and it’s very obvious.

When he meets Emile though, it lifts a lot of weight off his shoulders as he learns not to be so all-bearing of others issues. And he also feels safer talking to him about his old pack as he doesn’t want to be pitied by anyone.

Tired-As-Fuck Vampire Logan

Who’s like 600 years old and knows that a lot of History that the modern day tells everyone is wrong and HATES that he’d be found out if he started yelling at people how wrong they are.

Parents wanted him to drop science and be a farmer. They, and his younger siblings, all died when their crops were poisoned two weeks after he moved out to do his science elsewhere.

Oh and he was bit by the person who 1. Was his partner in science and 2. He was head over heels for them because they let him take risks but still made sure he was safe as he did them.

So that pissed him off quite a bit. Because he almost instantly killed the couple who took in the sickly scientist because the wife cut her finger. He managed to kill the cow instead but he ran away afterwards and never saw them again.

Ran into Janus 300 years later -after travelling a LOT and learning a LOT and nearly dying a LOT and feeling so much that he doesn’t wanna feel anymore because that’s 300yrs of friends dying- and decided to travel with the one type of guy who won’t die of old age!!!

Then Virgil appeared. Then Patton. Then the Twins. Then Remy. Then Emile. He wishes that his dead heart would stop making him want to protect them all to his last breath but what can ya do?

He will murder anyone to save the others- but much prefers to just stay inside and just experiment on the occasional new thing that he finds.

Protector. Leader. Professor. Tired. Doctor. Cantor (yes he was Jewish for a little while after the bite but now he’s Atheist). University Chancellor. Lots of titles and he got them all legit too, although some are a little out of date.

Do not ask how he feels about the others. Especially Remus. He will glare at you without a word before moving on with his life.

Naga Will-Steal-You’re-Last-$5 Janus

Age? Social construct. He hints at being around Logan’s age but that could be give or take a hundred years or so.

He can shift between having a tail and legs- but ofc much prefers the tail. But he hates that his teeth change with it as it makes him hold his ‘s’ more when he talks.

When no tail, the left side of his face is very scarred. Someone tried burning off the scales on his face but the scars only appear when he’s trying to look human. When he has his tail, his scales replace them and they look fine.

Do not touch his hands or he will strangle you with them. They’re sensitive as hell without his gloves and he doesn’t know why.

He can hypnotise you to take a fucking break and he’s not afraid to do it (except on Logan as he’s somehow almost entirely immune)

Doesn’t like hypnotising his friends unless its just to take a break or to pull them out of an anxiety/panic attack. Every other living thing isn’t off limits though.

Lived alone until he met Logan. He also liked killing everyone he met until he met Logan. The only reason he didn’t kill Logan was because the nerd almost chopped off the end of his tail. The others don’t know this and it’s staying that way.

Has a cane to walk with for days that his legs decide that they wanna be a tail but he’s in public for some reason and he can’t and it sucks.

Almost killed Remy when they first met. Literally- he stabbed him in the side. Now they’re best buds over it and it was weird how quickly it happened too.

Has stolen Roman’s last $5. He will not be returning it. He hasn’t spent it because he finds him cute funny when he’s mad.

Siren But-Flips-Off-The-Sea-And-Heights Roman

Was born a Prince! With his weirdo of a twin. They were well liked and he was next in line for the throne and he was gonna be given a wife-

He wasn’t happy that it HAD to be a wife and when he argued that he wanted a guy; everyone turned on him and threw him into the ocean. So... fuck them.

Sirens saved him by turning him into one. He hates it.

Was forced to eat kelp or people. He chose kelp. He hated it.

Was dragged out of the sea by his brother who had been thrown into the evil swamp nearby and is now a banshee. Not as bad but he’s still rather pissed.

Although he was a little sad when he heard, 100yrs later, that his entire kingdom died of the plague. He moved on quickly though.

He hates the sea and doesn’t go near it. If it all dried up one day, it’d be the happiest day of his life. He doesn’t even eat seafood anymore as it makes him upset just looking at it.

He still likes to sing. He can control if it’s going to mind-control those who hear it or not; but it’s a little annoying as he can’t get too into it without accidentally losing control. Doesn’t stop him though.

He learnt how to play multiple instruments, made anonymously published books, the money-earner of the two. Although he was jealous that Remus was better at more hands-on stuff and is slowly, but happily, learning how to craft things from wood.

He and Remus never separated. Even when Monster Hunters sprayed him with water, forced his tail to appear, and took him to a facility to be imprisoned forever. That’s another thing he was mad about since Remus refused to just fucking RUN but he was happy to see his brother be proud of him when he dug VERY sharp teeth into a mans arm.

Had to be carried out by Janus when he, Logan, Patton and Virgil decided to free everyone inside. Every other creature could run except him, which led to him and Remus staying with them.

He definitely, 100%, no-doubt-about-it got a massive gay crush on Janus when he taught him how to fight. And sword fight. And dance. And how to look after his rather pretty scales.

In the 200-300yrs since he’s had a tail, he hasn’t ONCE really looked after them. So when Janus helped him out and made his scales less gross and more gorgeous, he actually started liking his tail a bit.

The Ocean can still go fuck itself though.

Oh and the one time they visited the Seattle Space Needle? Yeah, fuck heights too.

Banshee Will-Eat-Your-Fingers-If-Given-The-Chance Remus

After Roman got thrown into the ocean, he went on a rampage. He didn’t kill anyone, but he sure as hell got close to murdering their shitty father.

They tied him up and tossed him into the nearby swamp, where he nearly died. He inhaled days worth of magical fog that eventually turned him into a banshee. Which is just the ability to scream so loud that he makes people pass out, which is useful. Oh and sharp teeth that he looks after really well.

He managed to escape the forest, he screamed at a passing merchant and took his horse, and went to the ocean where he found Roman depressingly eating kelp on a rock off in the distance.

He literally got on a boat, dragged the surprised but happy fish into it with him, and made sure that they would never be separated again.

Didn’t care about what happened to their old kingdom.

He learnt how to make weapons, how to blacksmith, how to glassmith, how to make clothes- Literally anything he could since Roman kind of sucked at making anything that wasn’t music or a story of some kind. Fine by him since he knew the quality of the weapon he was stabbing people with.

When the hunters forcefully made Roman’s tail appear, he tried to scream to make them all pass out but they were ready and punched him out. He would have found it a little funny if he didn’t wake in a jail cell with a thing over his mouth.

The two worst things about it: He couldn’t see Roman and know if he was okay and he couldn’t cuss out the guards.

When that nerdy but very murderous vampire broke in and helped him out of the prison, he returned the favour by biting off the fingers of a guard that had broken Logan’s glasses. He later on fixed said glasses as well but he thought the fingers removal was a better thank you.

Loves Logan; only Roman, Janus and Emile have figured it out. Virgil thinks he’s plotting to kill the vampire one day, Remy doesn’t pay attention and Patton thinks that Logan is a good influence on him (he’s not wrong as he slowly stops describing brutal murders and talks about gross facts that Logan does and doesn’t know)

Remy No-It-Isn’t-Short-For-Remington-Yes-I-Am-A-Dragon-Roman

Born as a shapeshifting dragon. Was supposed to live like a recluse like the rest of his kind but said ‘fuck that’ and now works at a clothing store in a town full of morons for entertainment.

His kind does get tired rather easily so he lives off coffee. He is addicted and luckily for him; his body won’t get used to it so he doesn’t have to heighten the dose of caffeine in every drink. Yay!

Two things happened when he first met Janus and Roman. The first is that he got stabbed by the Naga because he may or may not have seen him wearing some shiny rings that he REALLY wanted. He wanted it more then Janus, so he found it okay to do- but got stabbed for it.

Two; he then bit Roman (who kinda deserved it when he tried to ‘slay the dragon’ when Janus had saw his unnaturally-bright brown eyes) and was dragged to see everyone to figure out what to do with him.

He managed to talk his way out of being murdered by Remus by sheer amazing personality (he’s x5 sassy when afraid and Remus thought he was hilarious) and just decided to hang around everyone just because he could.

Being stabbed turned into a joke between him and Janus and now they’re besties who totally don’t steal from random assholes that they run into down the street. It’s a now competition to have the shiniest collection (Janus is winning but gives Remy the occasional shiny thing as he knows that dragons get very mad about hoard sizes sometimes)

When they all moved towns, he dragged them to one where his old friend Emile was. He also introduced Virgil to Starbucks and their coffee and is still getting berated for it to this day.

Oh and when he does manage to let himself be a dragon, he’s about as large as a horse and has really pretty black scales with a light brown underbelly. His eyes turn bright green too. Virgil calls him Starbucks’s best mascot.

Emile Is-A-Disney-Fairy-Stereotype

Can grow and shrink on command; can also make his wings appear and disappear although it does hurt not to have them out almost daily.

Pink wings and pink hair. Very popular fairy attributes (for both fairies and Monster Hunters)

Can see aura’s of humans and monsters. They look very different depending on species but he LOVES seeing human ones the most as they are often filled with more colours.

Is a therapist, is a cartoon nerd, is able to make you a dress that disappears at midnight

... Can also see your dreams but doesn’t like doing it as its intrusive and it feels like he’s breaking some kind of human Confidentiality agreement

Being a therapist has changed a lot of his views on personal space (like the whole dream thing he has). He’s very in-your-face when excited, but as a kid he would CLING to people at every chance he had. Even strangers. It wasn’t a good habit.

Became a therapist, an independent one too, because a human friend of his died of suicide and he blamed his therapist who was telling him a lot of bad advice. And said therapist wasn’t supportive of his friends gender-identity crisis as he was very strict on ‘born a boy is a boy’ kind of thinking.

Now Emile takes in teenagers for free and adults at a lower price then a normal therapist. He doesn’t have a great living space (upstairs from his office don’t tell anyone) but he doesn’t care!

Met Remy as he was one of his patients once. He can tell when someone isn’t human due to their aura’s and nearly fell out of his chair when a FUCKING DRAGON walked in.

After Remy finished his sessions, he still visited occasionally and always remembered his favourite drink (chocolate smoothie with whipped cream and caramel shavings and a chocolate stick or five sticking out- and Remy thought his coffee addiction was bad)

And after not seeing Remy after six months, only to find that he has made friends with a lot of other creatures made him so happy.

Then confused when they all dragged in this fairy therapist into their group. Where Logan asked for the occasional emotional advice (not at ALL related to Remus-), Janus made sure he got a better living space, Remus and Virgil gave him someone to talk to about darker cartoon ideas, Roman (after the 18 times he asked for a magical dress) started making cartoon-stuffs for him, and Patton...

Patton helped him realise that he was still very gay despite the AroAce that he was. He gave him head scritches when stressed, the help he needed trauma-wise, the cartoon marathons with the doggo using his legs as a pillow-

And Patton gave him someone to talk to about all his feelings about his clients (without breaking any rules ofc). And about his old friend and the terrible therapists that he’s met.

He will admit to anyone that he squealed when Janus told him that Patton was pan aroace. Seriously, just ask. He is not ashamed of his excitement of the fact that he has a CHANCE WITH THE CUTE WOLF DAD.

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mr-geraskier · 4 years

Note

When Jaskier finally gets his own horse he is over the moon. He showers his noble steed with compliments and treats. Geralt just can't get over the fact that Jaskier's horse is a Shetland pony, and while watching the duo go he has a hard time to keep from laughing

So I named the Pony and now I really want oneeee!

-----------

The day Jaskier got a horse was strange but has given Geralt some of the best days of his life.------------------The sound of footsteps running up the Inn stairs is heard and soon a painting Jaskier strolls into their shared room in the town’s Inn and gives Geralt a huge smile. Geralt sits on the bed and gives Jaskier a confused look, not understanding why the bard is so happy.

“Geralt you would not believe what I just did. I, Jaskier, have just bought myself the most wonderful gift.” He walks over to where Geralt is relaxing on the bed and gestures for him to follow. Geralt rolls his eyes but complies anyway and follows the lively bard out of their room. They make their way out of the Inn and out into the front where Roach is tied to a post. Geralt looks around the area but doesn’t see any horses near them except his own. Then Jaskier walks over to the post and beams over at Geralt.

“Geralt I would like you to meet Rose! My new beauty!” Jaskier points to a small black pony standing next to Roach that Geralt must not have noticed before.

“A farmer was making his way through the town and was looking for some extra coin. I saw this amazing girl and stopped him before he was able to leave for home. After negotiating I got the price down pretty low and now I have her! Isn’t she beautiful?” Jaskier smiles at Geralt and waits for the witcher’s answer.

“You uses our coin on a pony?” Geralt glances at Jaskier and raises his eyebrow.

“Yes…..” Jaskier looks away from Geralt, avoiding the witcher’s gaze.

“Hmm.” The witcher turns around and walks back into the inn, going up the stairs and back to their room he calls out to Jaskier, “You better play hard and for a long time tonight at the tavern to get that coin back. Or else I’m leaving you here.”

And Jaskier definitely played that night. He didn’t stop until his fingers were bruised. He even managed to get some coin for treats and a cute ribbon for Rose. He carefully ties the blue ribbon around her neck and smiles as he goes back up the stairs to their room, feet hurting from all of the dancing he’s done that night.----------------

Geralt never really cared for the pony until he started to notice all the little funny and cute things Jaskier would do for her. He showered her in kisses every hour of every day and gave her treats for just being a small little horse.

Jaskier even began sleeping next to her at night, keeping her warm and safe. It was amusing and adorable at the same time. How this little pony got so much love from Jaskier, Geralt would never know.

“Well aren’t you the prettiest little thing around here. Yes, you are. Yes, you are!” Jaskier baby talks Rose.

“It’s a pony. Not a child.” Geralt says to Jaskier. Enjoying the moment.

Jaskier turns to him, his face in shock. Hand on his chest he glares at Geralt and continues to pet Rose. “ She is not just a pony, Geralt. She is a loyal companion that deserves love. Rose is beautiful and graceful and what you say won’t hurt our feelings.” He turns back to the pony and combs her hair with his fingers, braiding in small wildflowers as he goes.

“She smells. And so do you.” Geralt smirks in Jaskier’s direction only to get a death glare in return.

“WHO ARE YOU TO TALK GERALT OF SMELLIA?”-----------------Geralt notices how Jaskier is incredibly quite behind him so he turns around and sees Rose trying her best to keep up with Roach.

“Geralt wait! We aren’t the fastest!” Jaskier rides Rose to the witcher, still not quite keeping up.

Geralt’s eyes go wide and he slaps a hand over his mouth. The sight of Jaskier sitting on the poor little pony makes Geralt want to burst out laughing.

“Why are you laughing? Geralt are you making fun of Rose again? She may have short legs but she has motivation and power!” Jaskier yells from behind Geralt.

Suddenly Geralt is laughing louder than he’s ever done before. Jaskier is taken back for a moment before remembering why Geralt is laughing and quickly gets pissed.

“Geralt! Stop laughing you arse!”

After stopping a few times so Rose has a break they eventually make it to the next town. They get rooms and supplies for tomorrow’s journey. Geralt smiles the entire time as Rose follows Jaskier around the town. Geralt even feels bad for Jaskier when they need to leave Rose outside with Roach who really hasn’t even seemed like she’s noticed the small pony.

Jaskier is basically dragged by Geralt to their room to sleep for the night, promising that Rose will still be there in the morning. Jaskier, still not as happy as before nods his head and falls asleep next to Geralt. Geralt grins to himself as Jaksier snuggles close to him. They both no longer smell of horses due to their baths and now Geralt can finally breathe without getting a hint of pony smell.Jaskier smells of flowers and mixed berries, causing Geralt to nuzzle into the bard’s hair, taking in as much fragrance as he can before they both smell bad again tomorrow.---------------

Jaskier and Geralt are sitting at the campfire they’ve set up for the night, Jaskier quietly humming one of his songs. “Geralt, do you not like Rose. It seems like every time you laugh it’s because of her.”

Geralt can actually hear the sadness in Jaskier’s voice. His bard truly thinks Geralt is laughing at his pony because of how she looks. “I’m not laughing at the horse. I’m laughing at you.”

Jaskier looks at Geralt, confused. “Why the hell is that?”

“You’re a tall man riding a small black pony. The size difference is hilarious. You give her everything she wants, treats, scratches, love, and you give her kisses for no reason at all. It’s quite adorable in my opinion. You Jaskier make me laugh, not because you bought such a small horse, but because you give me joy in seeing you with joy in your eyes as you interact with her.” Geralt smiles at Jaskier and shrugs his shoulder when Jaskier doesn’t do anything. “Plus it’s just really funny how small she is compared to Roach.”

Jaskier smacks Geralt’s shoulder, causing both of them to chuckle. The bard looks at Geralt and grins. “You know you’re adorable sometimes too. I see you give her treats when I’m not looking. And I’ve seen you talk to Roach more times than I can count. You have a soft spot for horses and me. Admit it.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and pushes Jaskier’s shoulder, “Shut up and eat your soup.”

#Geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #geraskier #Jaskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #ask me anything #send me asks

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mochiiwrites · 3 years

Text

Ace Trapolla wandered through the halls, intending to loiter or bother the prefect.

“Ahh, I’m so glad the day’s finally over. I get to procras-”

“OI!” A shout thrust Ace out of his thoughts. The voice belonged to Deuce Spade. Ace let out a started yelp.

“Agh! You dumbass! Why’re you shoutin like that out of nowhere!”

“You almost stepped on something, you imbecile!”

“Eh? What do you-”

Ace looked to where Deuce was pointing. Something small was left on the floor. It turned, revealing a beak. It chirped.

“AAAAA-!” The first-years screamed at the sudden sound until Deuce clamped his hands over his and Ace’s mouths.

“Eww, what are you doing sticking your fingers in my mouth like that?” Ace complained as soon as Deuce released his grip.

“We should be quiet, we wouldn’t want to startle it...or get in trouble for causing a ruckus...again.”

“What kinda bird is it?”

“I…I’m not sure.” Deuce cautiously scooped up the bird. Deuce moved his hands to show Ace… a chick.

“It’s a chick.”

“I know that, idiot.”

“So...what do we do with it?”

“Don’t ask me. Lets ask…the prefect, or something.”

——♠️🐣❤️——

The brain cell duo made their way to Ramshackle Dorm. Ace didn’t bother knocking, he just barged in.

“Hey Prefect!” No response.

“Yuuuuuuu?”He called but, no one responded, except for the chick’s chirping.

“...Weird.” He muttered to no one in particular.

Deuce suggested, “Maybe they had to help with something?”

“You have any idea how little that narrows it down? They’re always helping with something.”

“Well, at least you’re smart enough to know that they’re helpful.”

“What do you-”

A different voice broke them out of their bickering. “What are you two doing here? Have you come to see the Great Grim himself?”

“Ah, no. We came to see the Prefect. Do you know where they are, Grim?”

“Fgna! You mean, you don’t know? It's not my business, ya know?”

“What the- Yes it is?? You LIVE in the SAME BUILDING YOU-” Ace was going to get a headache.

“Shut up! You’re too loud!” Deuce suddenly interjected.

“So are you, you dunce!” Ace shot back.

Grim finally answered Ace’s question, “Well, I dunno where they are, so let's just go find ‘em! I could smell ‘em from a mile away! I am pretty great after all!”

The chick chirped at the implication of how the Prefect smelled, weird...

The trio, or quartet if you include the chick, started their search! They travelled far and wide…to the Heartslabyul lounge.

——😼♠️🐣♦️❤️——

“Ah! Adeuce combi! And Gri-chan! Back at it again! Whatcha doing? And where’s the Prefect?”

Deuce perked his head up at the sound of the third year’s voice.

“Ah, Cater-senpai. We were actually thinking of where we could find them. Do you have any ideas?”

“Eh...I think they were helping Epel with cleaning the entire ballroom. Sounds like it sucks, especially since he was supposed to do it by himself, originally.”

“Oh, well, thank you Cater-senpai. We appreciate the help.” Deuce got up and bowed respectfully, then got really confused when Cater took a picture.

“O-M-G! #Cute! Where’d you find your friend? #Chickadeuce_Combi!” Cater eagerly posted something to MagiCam.

“What…?” ‘Friend? What could Cater-senpai be…’ Deuce had a revelation. “Oh! The chick was just in the hallway, we were looking for the Prefect to see if they knew what to do with it.”

“Why not just babysit it? I’d love to see more of the #Chickadeuce_Combi! Ah, bet then again, Riddle probably wouldn’t be very happy… Well, good luck! I’ve gotta head to the Light Music Club!” Cater sent himself off with a wave and a final picture of the ‘Chickadeuce Combi’.

“Wait, where are we going?” Ace asked, seeming to have woken from a nap.

“When did you fall asleep?”

Ace made a shrugging noise and an ‘eugh?’ noise.

“Whatever, we’re heading to Pomefiore, Cater said the Prefect was there.”

“Oka-AAGH!” Ace was promptly stepped on by Grim, and pulled out of his chair by Deuce.

——😼♠️🐣🍎❤️——

Once the quartet made it to Pomefiore’s ballroom, they heard a soft voice...muttering complaints and curses. Along with quiet complaints and cursing, they heard a lot of splashing.

“Ugh, my wrists are going to fall off… Where’d the Prefect go… I need some fu-”

“Epel?” At the mention of his name, the Pomefiore first-year cut himself off and dropped his sponge.

Epel scrambled to pick up the sponge and find a good word that started with ‘Fu’ “Fu-fu...F-Fun! A fun break! Just a small one! I wasn’t going to…” Epel looked up to see some of his fellow first years… and a chick...on Deuce’s head. Epel thought to himself, ‘Well, at least it’s not Vil-sama.’

“Whatchu lot doin’- ah, I mean...What are you guys doing here?”

Ace explained their situation, “Looking for the Prefect, Cater told us they’d be here. So…where are they?”

“I… I don’t know...”

“Ah, well, thank you for your time, Epel! Good luck with your cleaning!” Deuce bowed again, and the chick almost fell off his head.

“Ah, Deuce be careful! Your friend could get hurt.”

Deuce immediately fixed his posture and lightly checked his hair for the chick. “Y-you’re right, Epel! How irresponsible of me…”

“Don’t mention it! Actually, don’t mention anything...I’m not really supposed to be talking to anyone ‘til I’m done with all this.” Epel stretched his arms and gestured to the entire room.

Ace pinched the bridge of his nose, “Great Seven, what did you even do? This has gotta be punishment for something, right?”

Epel cautiously looked around and lowered his voice, clearly watching for Vil, Rook or just anyone who had the ability to tell him off.

Gathering his confidence he admitted his crime.

“I… I said that Rook was an asshat.”

Deuce looked like he was going through a crisis and he covered the chick’s nonexistent ears. Ace haphazardly fought back a chuckle, Grim grinned and laughed,

“Nyahaha! That's great!”

“No, it’s not, Grim. Why don’t you help Epel with cleaning?” Deuce scolded Grim with a “bonk” to the head.

“Wha- No! The Great Grim can’t-”

But the Heartslabyul first years already left.

——♠️🐣🍎——

Another day, but still no Prefect. But on the other hand, the Heartslabyul Dorm gained another (temporary) resident. The problem is Riddle didn’t like them that much. So Deuce and Ace would have to take care of it in secret. Ace also wasn’t really willing to take care of the “stupid bird”, So it was only Deuce trying to care for it in secret. Currently, Ace had basketball and Deuce had been left alone. The first year set the chick down on a table, and was staring intently at it, wondering what to do. He stayed like that for who-knows-how-long until…

“Deuce?”

“Ah! Come in, the door should be open!”

Epel appeared in the doorway when Deuce turned his head.

“Did you manage to find the Prefect?”

“Actually...no. We still don’t know where they are.”

“That’s strange… Well, how’s the chick?”

“They’re good...I hope. I was thinking of giving it a name.”

“Really?” Epel asked, with an amused huff.

“Well, calling it ‘the chick’ seems...rude? The horses in the horseback riding club are named, so why not the chick?”

“Ehh, the chick is…” Epel trailed off, afraid to hurt the chick’s feelings, for some strange reason. “Nevermind, did you have a name in mind?”

“I was thinking...Enka?”

“Enka?” Epel echoed the Heartslabyul student, seeing if the name suited the chick. “That sounds nice.”

Deuce sprouted an idea, “Epel, you’re a farmer, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you have any experience with chickens?”

“Wha-no! I’m an apple farmer. Sure, my family has horses, but definitely not chickens.”

“Agh, I’m so sorry for assuming! Please forgive me!” Deuce bowed at inhuman speed, which may or may not be impressive.

Epel tried to hold in his laughter, but failed. “Snrk-Ehehe~! You’re fine, you’re fine. But I guess, I could help you take care of Enka.”

“Really?! Thank you, that would be wonderful!”

“It’s the least I can do, you did have Grim help me clean the ballroom, afterall.”

“Okay so...how do we take care of Enka?”

——😿♠️🐣🍎❤️——

Ace barged in the dorm with a depressed and tired Grim cradled in his arms. He was greeted by Deuce reading a book with the chick. A bowl of apples cut into small pieces in front of them.

“What the hell are you doing, dumbass?”

Deuce quickly dropped the book and maneuvered to cover the chick’s ‘ears’. “Language! I was trying to talk to Enka.”

“Who’s Enka?”

“The chick, Deuce thought it would be nice if we gave them a name.” Epel walked into view, with a list of places at Night Raven College.

“Hah, of course he would. Enka’s an alright name, I guess.” Ace snatched the paper out of the lavender haired boy’s hands. “What’s this for?”

“It’s for when we search for the Prefect, so we can cross off places we’ve already searched.”

“We gonna start searching now? Or what?”

“That works for me.”

“Nya-wah-haahhhh...I miss Yuu…” Grim sobbed, but no one knew if it was genuine tears.

Enka chirped sympathetically.

——😼♠️🐣🍎❤️🐩——

The now-quintet only got one step into NRC’s halls before they were stopped by faculty.

“My my, what are the puppies doing out of their litter?” Divus Crewel said, with a dissatisfied face.

“Ah, Crewel-sensei. We were going to look for Yuu.” Epel calmly responded, in contrast to Deuce’s panicked bowing. (Enka was safe, instead of being on Deuce’s head, they sat in Deuce’s cupped hands.)

“Ah, the Prefect puppy would be right...there.” Crewel pointed towards the small chick cradled in Deuce’s hands.

“EHHHHH?!?!”

“QUIET! DOWN BOYS, DOWN!” Crewel cracked his whip and cleared his throat, “Ahem, yes. Surprisingly, that birdie is the Prefect, at least, it should be. A student was staying after school to understand this transformation potion better. They accidentally spilled some and Yuu happened to be in the splash zone, and then they were nowhere to be found.”

“So… that would mean that Enka is Yuu.”

Enka chirped in approval, and in a tone that sounded like “Yes! Finally!”.

“Ya kiddin’ me?” Ace threw his hands up, very pissed, “So we had ‘em the whole time!”

“Nyagh...This is confusing…”

“If you puppies would stop yapping, I could transform them back.”

“Right! Of course, yes sir!” Deuce quickly gave his teacher Enka.

Crewel sent the group back while he got started on transforming Yuu. Grim, Epel and Deuce waited patiently in Ramshackle Dorm, Ace had detention for something he had done earlier in the day.

——😼♠️✨🍎——

Yuu looked down at their hands, thankful that they were no longer wings. They took their human hands and opened the door.

“I’m bACK-” They didn’t finish their sentence due to Grim tackling them.

“Yuu! You’re back! You can’t leave the Great Grim alone by himself!”

“Ahaha, I won’t, I won’t.”

“Glad you’re okay, Prefect!” Epel warmly smiled at them.

“Must’ve been interesting being a chick for a while, huh?” Deuce rested his hand on his chin, as if he were contemplating what the experience would’ve been like.

“Yeah, but at least you got to take care of me! I wouldn’t mind if you did it again!”

The Prefect’s statement caused Epel to hide his face and Deuce was left a stuttering mess.

#mochiifics!#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst yuu #twst fic #twisted wonderland fic #twst deuce #twst ace #twst epel #twst grim #twst crewel #twst cater

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fairytalesbloodandbullets · 4 years

Text

Headcanon

My brain refuses to accept anything other than that every character Matthias Schoenaerts has ever portrayed, was in reality Booker.

Now, I'm still working through the man's filmography, but to elaborate a little:

He built, with help, the outdoor ballroom in the gardens of Versailles as Andre le Notre. (A Little Chaos is set 88 years before Booker's birth, but, well, details right?)

Enjoyed some time in the country, going by Farmer Oak, and fell hopelessly in love with Batsheba, a woman he greatly admired and respected and wanted to protect for as long as he could stay with her. (Far from the Madding Crowd)

During WWII, he went his own way and joined the Germans because he felt increasingly unhappy, as if he didn't quite belong with the team. Lucile and the events taking place in Bussy during his stay there changed his mind, and at some point not too long after leaving Bussy, he fakes his own death. He still plays Suite Française whenever he has access to a piano, and keeps tabs on Lucile's descendents, anonymously providing assistance when any of them require it.

In his darker, more despair driven days he somewhat recklessly gets involved in situations that has a higher risk of exposure, like the time he took the name Eric Deeds and pissed off the wrong guy named Bob (The Drop). Or that time he called himself Philip, picked up a cocaine addiction, a wife, made pals with four other adulterous men and became part of a murder investigation. (The Loft)

Prison was something he hadn't experienced since before his first death. Being incarcerated, going through the rehabilitation program, connecting with the horse he trains, is a healing experience. (The Mustang)

Andy mentioned a likeness to Putin in passing, so just for the hell of it he infiltrated the SVR, rose to the rank of Deputy Director. What? Russia was a lot better than when he died there in 1812. (Red Sparrow)

#mathias schoenaerts #sebastien le livre #booker #the old guard #a little chaos #far from the madding crowd #suite française #the drop #the loft #the mustang #red sparrow

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cha-lyn · 4 years

Text

Milk & Eggs - Ten

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 1580ish

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings: usual angst, cussing, some flufffffff

A/N: I’M BACK. All married and shit. Thanks for being patient lovies.

if ya like it, give it a reblog/like/comment. Makes my day.

Master List // Previous Chapter

- - -

Any rational person would sit there and wait for him or maybe get in the cab in wait, but apparently you aren't so rational, so you slip your shoes on and jump out of the bed of the truck. You use your phone as a flashlight and walk the way you think Bucky went. It was cool enough that you could just see your breath.

Bucky was nowhere to be found.

You turn around and head in the direction you think the truck is in. You don’t know why but you started running, calling Bucky’s name as you do. You were right on the verge of tears. Right on the edge of panic.

“Y/N! Y/N?! Where the hell are you Y/N?” Finally you hear his voice.

“Bucky?” Finally you see his dark silhouette.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Where did you go?!” He gently grabbed your face between his hands, worry evident in his eyes, even in the dark.

“Where did I go, where did YOU go?” You pushed him away. “You left me out here all alone. It’s like the third time you’ve ran away from me Bucky! This time in a pitch dark field!”

“Shit, I’m sorry! I had to pee. I wasn’t running this time, I swear. Okay? I’m sorry.”

“You said you had to take a walk?”

He chuckled and you wondered what the joke was. “I had to pee, I didn’t want to tell you that. You’re a lady.” You grit your teeth. “Shit, doll. I was worried about you.” He ran a hand through his hair.

Shaking your head, you push past him to walk back to the truck.

Bucky is right behind you, attempting to help you up when you get back into the truck bed, but you ignore him. “Wanna cookie? Another drink?” He sits next to you.

You purse your lips, but nod. “A drink. Two cookies. I thought you were pissed at me?”

Bucky pauses his drink mixing and looks up at you. “I was... kinda,” he finished pouring your drink. “But, it felt good... telling you. I don’t talk about it. Maybe I should.” He shrugs. “ Are you still mad at me?”

You nod.

“Well, I really am sorry. Look. I promise I won’t run away from you ever again, okay?” He hands you your drink and passes you the plastic container of cookies. You take a generous sip, the drink warming you as you swallow.

“I’m holding you to that promise.” You look back at the stars and see another falling star after a while. You make another wish and take another drink. “Hey Buck?”

“Yea, doll?” That damn name again.

“Maybe I am overstepping a bit. I hope this doesn’t come off as offensive… but those scars, scars in general really, are--uhm-- pretty hot.” You looked up at him. You couldn't read his face in the dark.

“They’re hot?”

It just spills out. “Mmhmm. I mean, you are hot anyway. But the scars don’t hurt either.” Oh the effects of alcohol and the dark and the stars. There were a few moments of silence and you took to pretending to inspect your nails in the dark.

Bucky took a deep breath. You stole a glance at him, worried he was going to get up and ‘go for another walk’. Instead he was looking at you.

“You think I’m hot?” His lips were fighting a smile.

You took a bit of a cookie. “I thought it was obvious that I think you’re sexy?”

“Oh! So, I’m sexy now?” Bucky continues, voice very low and very intrigued, “Well, I think you’re sexy too, doll.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Looking up at him then, you see a smile.

“Let me prove it to you,” he took your drink out of your hand and placed it on the end of the tailgate with his own. He brought his hand back to your cheek.

“As long as you don’t run away this time,” you snark.

Bucky threw his head back, barking a laugh. “Deal.” And then he kissed you under the stars.

“What a sight for sore eyes.” Bucky grinned as you got out of your car, “Hello, slick.”

“Hi Bucky.” The last time you’d seen him he’d kissed you up against your car for a good five minutes before you interrupted him with a yawn and he’d sent you home.

Today, he met you at your door, where he gave you a kiss on the cheek. Both of you blushed like children. He filled the milk jugs as you told him about all the orders you and Grams had to do this week. Once he’d loaded the eggs into the truck he started to fidget with his ball cap.

“Well, maybe, if you have a chance… we could get lunch sometime this week?”

“I would love that, Buck. Maybe the diner? Tomorrow?”

“I have to go to town tomorrow around lunch. What about Wednesday? 12?”

“Yes.” You bit your lip, failing to suppress your huge grin. “Can’t wait. See ya then.”

“Me either. See ya doll.”

It was a busy day at the bakery. The bell kept ringing on the door, you had two birthday cakes to finish just today. Your list for tomorrow was even longer. You worked through lunch and had just started on the final decorations for the first one when your phone rang. You didn’t even think about answering and kept working.

A little bit later, the bell rang and Gram went to answer it, but quickly returned. “It’s for you sweetie.” You quirked eyebrow at her smirk. “It’s James.”

“Oh!” You wipe your hands of and round the corner to see Bucky sitting at the bar with two burgers and a plate of fries. You hadn’t seen him since the stargazing that night. “What a great surprise.”

“Uh… Well, I called you to see where you were, but you didn’t answer,” he pulled out a few packets of ketchup and barbeque sauce. “So I ordered your usual to go. Extra bacon.”

It hit you then. You were supposed to meet him--you check the clock--45 minutes ago at the diner. You’d completely forgot. The shop had been that busy. Your schedule had been wake up, shower, bake all day, eat a quick dinner, shower, and sleep for two days now.

“Oh my god, I was supposed to meet you wasn’t I?” He nodded. “Oh shit. Bucky, I’m so sorry it’s been so hectic around here.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Sit down and eat.” He smiled and took a bite of his burger and pointed a finger at yours. He waved you quiet when you started to apologize profusely. “Seriously, it’s okay. You guys have been swamped. But you still need to eat.” He winked at you.

You ate your burger quickly. Once you smell it, you realize just how hungry you are. Bucky was telling you about a livestock auction coming up in a couple of weeks and that he was thinking about getting a herding dog when he went.

“You need to give that horse a name before you buy more pets.”

He made a face at you. “All of my animals have a purpose, Y/N. They aren’t pets.”

“Hah. You treat them like pets. You talk to them like I talked to Sharon’s cat. You’d let Cap in the house if he wasn’t so big.”

He laughed, cocking his head. “Who is Sharon?”

You stopped chewing. “What?”

“You said I talk to animals like you talked to Sharon’s cat. Who is Sharon?” He dipped three fries into your ketchup and ate them in one bite.

“Oh… Sharon was my roommate. The one… ya know.” You pushed your leftover fries away. Appetite gone.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay… I just... Actually, I've got to get back to work. But thanks so much for lunch.” You smiled and gathered the trash. “Sorry again for totally spacing.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was my pleasure, slick. This was fun, we should do this again.”

“Next time I won’t stand you up.”

“I’ll hold you to that, doll. See ya.” He winked.

“See ya Buck.”

He waved and left the shop and you returned to the kitchen.

“That was so sweet of him to bring you lunch,” Grams says when you start rolling out more fondant.

“Mhhmm. Even after I forgot to meet him. I’ll have to make it up to him.” You scolded yourself internally.

“Well, he didn’t seem too bothered.”

You nodded.

That night you text him, but you were only able to keep your eyes open for 30 minutes before you were in dreamland. When you woke up your phone was face down beside your bed. 5%

“Well shit.” You plugged it in. Bucky had sent you a couple messages after you’d fallen asleep.

So what should I name that horse?

Slick?

Lol guess you fell asleep. Goodnight doll.

You responded before you got in the shower: I did fall asleep. And forget to plug my phone into the charger haha sorry.

It vibrated as you dried off.

No problem. You’ve been working a lot lately.

I was thinking about grilling some steak tonight (don’t tell the cows)

You’re welcome to join me if you want

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread on your face as you reply:

I love steak as long as I didn’t know it..ya know before.

I have a delivery in town at 5 but then I’m free

He responded:

Sounds good doll see you around 5:45ish then?

Sounds good! See you then Buck

- - -

Taglist : bless y’all for your patience

@notatallfriendly @thechaoticargonaut @booktease21 @iamwarrenspeace @titty-teetee @harryngtonewithyourshit

#Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes au #farmer!bucky #bucky barnes is a farmer #MCU fanfiction #mcu au #yeehaaw #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #cowboy!bucky #bucky barnes fluff #b.b.#bucky

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wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 119

Chapter Summary - Tom and Danielle go house hunting.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

‘What do you think?’ Tom asked as they pulled up to the house.

‘It’s a bit….big. What are we planning, a hundred and one dogs?’ Danielle looked at it. ‘It’s a bit fancy.’

‘Why not get something fancy if we are planning a home at all?’ Tom challenged.

‘Because I don’t want to have mortgage repayments of ten thousand pounds a month I suppose.’ Danielle commented in a bedpan tone. ‘I cannot afford to look at houses like this, Tom.’ She indicated to the house, how much is this even going for?’

‘Just shy of two.’

‘Two what?’ Tom did not look at her. ‘Million? Two million? Tom, what the hell are you thinking?’ She looked at him in shock.

‘That overall, this is a good house, it is big.’

‘I can see that.’ She looked at it again.

‘The front of it is like your parents.’ He pointed out. Danielle had to agree with him, it did. ‘Just look at it, please.’

‘Tom, I think it goes without saying, I cannot afford this.’ She stated. ‘I can’t.’

‘Please Elle, just take a look, we’ll talk more about that in a while.’

Danielle chewed her lip. ‘This is madness.’ she shook her head. ‘What made you even look at this?’

‘I want us to have a nice home.’

‘Nice does not have to equate to two fucking million.’ Danielle pointed out.

‘No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t mean it can’t either.’

‘Madness.’ Danielle shook her head as she got out of the car as the estate agent walked towards them.

Tom got out too and smiled. ‘Good afternoon, sorry for the delay.’

‘Not at all, was the drive out okay?’ He shook Tom’s hand. ‘Arthur Shrewsbury, by the way.’

‘Tom, and this is Danielle.’ He indicated to Danielle who had come up beside him, the estate agent shaking her hand too as she politely smiled at him. ‘The drive out was fine, bar the obvious delay we contacted you about.’ He smiled.

‘Well, let’s not delay any longer, I am sure you have a few places you wish to look at in the area, and we have a bit to go through here. It is a considerable 6,500 square foot property, and includes a car garage, several converted outhouses, a tennis court and a swimming pool.’ Tom refused to look at Danielle as she stared at him in disbelief. ‘It boasts six bedrooms, two studies, a living room, a dining room and a kitchen which of course, comes with all modern conveniences, but maintains a more classic look. It is, I should mention, a building that holds a Grade II restriction and cannot be altered externally in a manner that removes from the original design. That said, the roof does have solar panelling, though it is in accordance with the rules regarding its status.’

‘Wonderful.’ Tom smiled as he placed his hand on Danielle’s lower back, urging her inside.

Danielle, though slightly bothered, had to admit that the house was utterly divine. The house was beautifully done, beams exposed and airy. She could not believe the space it possessed as well as soon beautiful furniture.

‘What do you think?’ Tom asked, his eyes bright when the estate agent had left them to look around.

‘Six bedrooms? What would we ever need six bedrooms for?’

‘Mum, Sarah and Yakov, you and me, Emma and Jack, the Duchess, that is five rooms, Emma and Jack will probably have kids, not to mention, we might….’ He looked at her somewhat coyly, not wanting to make her feel like he was pressurizing her.

‘Planning for every eventuality?’ She smiled. ‘It’s huge, and so far from the city.’

‘I consider it a healthy distance from it.’ Danielle made a head gesture in agreement. ‘We don’t have to say yes, but I want us to look at homes like this.’

‘It is ridiculously expensive.’ Danielle commented. ‘I cannot afford half of this.’

‘Elle,’ Tom placed his arms around her. ‘Please, I know you are a very independent and proud woman, it is part of the reason I love you so much, you are strong, but if the reason we cannot get the perfect home for us, and I am not saying this is it, but in general, is because of your current income, I am going to insist on stepping in, because I can afford it, and I want us to be able to have exactly what we want, I think that if we are talking about making a home, it needs to be right.’

‘I would argue more, but considering the Ben and Sophie Hampstead debacle.’

‘Don’t even mention it. Honestly, it is over two years and they are still not in, he is withdrawing the application.’ Tom informed her.

Danielle looked out the window at the multitude of other buildings on the property. ‘That would not be an issue here.’

‘Definitely not.’

‘It’s too much, Tom. How would we ever even keep it clean?’

‘We’d need a cleaner.’ Tom agreed.

‘And a gardener.’ Danielle looked at the sheer amount of green area. ‘It’s a bit mad.’

The pair walked around the house more. When they came to the bedrooms, they stood in awe at the master bedroom. ‘Wow.’ Tom looked around the spacious room and en-suite. ‘This is bigger than I was expecting.’

‘That’s a bit of an understatement.’ Danielle agreed, looking around her. ‘It’s not very “farmhouse” here, is it?’

‘No.’ Tom opened a door. ‘I found a closet.’

‘I found another….wait this is….what is this?’

‘The nursery.’ Tom informed her, looking at the booklet in his hand. ‘It is smaller and off the main bedroom to ensure peace and tranquillity for any infants.’

‘Or a good room for people with weird sexual fetishes.’ Danielle stated calmly before looking at Tom and the pair laughed.

‘That too, I suppose.’ He grinned.

‘I love the name, by the way. Compton Bassett. This is not very Compton. Not the one N.W.A.rapped about anyway.’

Tom laughed again. ‘This is possibly the furthest thing from that Compton you could imagine.’

They looked around some more and assessed the house. ‘It is lovely.’

‘So you would consider it?’ Danielle made a non-committal noise. ‘What is bothering you, other than the price?’

‘The location from London, it is two hours each way, that is a serious amount of driving, I could go Dublin to Galway in two hours.’ She pointed out. ‘Also, I need to ask, but what is with a tennis court for one, we won’t be holding Wimbleton here next summer, and why, for the love of the divine Jesus, is there an outdoor pool, it is East England, it pisses rain three hundred and sixty days a year, the other five is a light mist. That is just madness to me.’

Tom laughed at her Irish turn of phrase and blatant exasperation at the idea of an outdoor swimming pool. ‘Think of the fun we could have in it?’ He winked at her.

‘What fun, your balls would ascend into your torso as a new pair of ovaries, the average temperature around here in summer is mid teens for fucks sake.’

He kissed her. ‘But is it along the lines of what you would like?’

‘I am a country mouse, I would be happy here, there is so much space, it is how I would want it if we have kids. Bobby and Mac would love it too, though I would insist on having some method of stopping them being able to get off the property, farmers tend to have a “shoot to kill” policy on wandering dogs near livestock.’

Tom paled as he looked at her in shock. ‘What?’

‘Farmers shoot straying dogs. You didn’t know this?’ Tom shook his head in horror. ‘Straying dogs chase livestock and can kill several ewes and lambs in a matter of minutes. It is legal for a farmer to shoot on sight, and rightly so. Honestly, people who don’t take control of their dogs need to stop this bullshit of “my dog is a sweetheart” I have seen the result of a “sweet” labrador left to its own devices, fourteen dead pregnant ewes, and several more wounded or with aborted lambs, two and a half thousand pounds old Irish money, that is about the same as here, maybe a little less, it was not pretty. The farmer was forced to sell a field as a result.’ She shook her head. ‘Dog was dead too, and it wasn’t a nice one, dad got him in, two rounds, but he was bleeding too badly, he suffered for about an hour after the shooting, so there were no winners. I don’t want that for our boys, they will be penned off outside or with us and no way to get into the farmland.’ She stated factually.

‘Yes, definitely.’ Tom agreed, shaken by what she had told him.

Seeing that he was still bothered, she put her hand in his and kissed him. ‘Did I upset you?’

‘No...I….I am not as strong stomached as you are.’

‘You never saw an animal give birth, did you?’ He grimaced and shook his head. ‘Oh boy, you need to toughen up. If they make a film adaptation of “All Creatures Great and Small” consider giving it a miss as a character. You shoving your hand up a mare to help pull out a foal would not do you any favours.’

‘Have you….?’

‘Shoved my hand up a cows or horses vagina, yes, several times. It’s all well and good until she shits on you.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ Tom felt nauseous.

‘Town mouse.’ Danielle laughed in return.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 119 #wolfpawn #tom hiddleston #Tom hiddleston fic

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xxcorndogxx · 4 years

Text

Sandor Clegane x Reader||Chapter Thirteen

I sit between Sandors legs. Arya sits next to us. I lean to the side resting my head on his arm. I open my eyes looking at Arya. She looks confused. She turns away from me. I sit up. I turn my head looking up at Sandor. I place a hand on his cheek. I move and press my lips to his. The kiss is brief.

"I'm driving, woman." He grumbles.

After a few minutes, he slows down.

"I gotta piss." He groans.

He pulls over and I move for him to get out. He trots off into the trees. I sit back down. I look at Arya.

"Why are you with him?" She turns to me her brows furrowed in confusion. "He's a bad man." She says.

I turn to face ahead of us. I take a deep breath.

"He may have done some bad things. I won't deny that." I start. "But he's not a bad man. Sure he's a hard and rough man. He's very straight forward and isn't afraid to speak his mind, and those aren't bad things necessarily." I continue. "It's not fair." I turn to her. "No one gives him a chance. He's so intimidating and gruff that everyone either insults him or runs in fear." I look down at my feet. "He's might like it that way. He might want people to stay away. But he's not a bad man. He can be kind." I turn to face Arya again. "He can be caring and gentle. He can be loving and harmless when he wants to be. Wither he likes it or not he's won my heart. All of me belongs to him now. I trust him to protect me. Wither he wants me to or not... I'd die for him. I'd slit my own throat to protect him, Arya."

"But why?" She asks.

I take a deep breath looking out at the road ahead.

"Because I love him, Arya. It's as simple and complicated as that." I pause. I quickly turn to Arya. "You can't tell him I said that." I plead.

"Why not?"

"I'm scared. He's might push me away for feeling too attached to him. He might not want to disappoint me or he might be scared that I'd disappoint him. Love is a complicated thing, Arya."

She nods. "I won't tell him."

I smile.

"Well." Sandors gruff voice is heard from behind. "Let's get a move on." He grumbles.

I scoot close to Arya so he can sit. He climbs back in and off we go.

We stop to rest. Sandor sits in the back of the cart while Arya looks at The Twins in the distance. I sit in the grass at Sandors feet. He nibbles on some pigs' feet.

"No one's going to believe you're a hog farmer is you eat them all." Arya states suddenly appearing next to me.

He shakes the foot at her.

"Best part of the animal." He says.

He continues eating tossing one foot back into the cart.

"Don't worry they're still there." He grumbles as she faces The Twins again.

She turns back to him.

"I know they're still there." She states.

"You check every five minutes like you're afraid they're gonna move." He grumbles.

She faces him fully.

"I'm not afraid." She defends.

"Of course you are. You're almost there and you're afraid you won't make it." He points out. "The closer you get the worse the fear gets. No point in trying to hide behind that face. I know fear when I see it. Seen it a lot." He explains.

I run my fingers through the grass taking a deep breath. I close my eyes and relax.

"I knew fear when I saw it in you." She announces.

I open my eyes and look at her.

"You're afraid of fire." She states.

"When Berics sword went up in flames, you looked like a scared little girl." She mocks.

"Arya," I whisper.

She brushes me off and steps closer to him.

"And I know why too. I heard what your brother did to you. Pressed your face to the fire like you're a nice juicy mutton chop." She says.

What is she doing?

"That give you some ideas?" He asks.

He's surprisingly calm for the situation. She turns back to The Twins.

"Might do." She says.

"Go ahead then. You might get away." He suggests.

He bites back into his pig's foot.

"Might even make it there on your own." He reassures. "They're just over the river. The closest you've been to family since Ilyn Payne snipped your daddy's neck." He points out.

She turns back to him.

"Someday I'm gonna put a sword through your eye and out the back of your skull." She threatens.

After a moment she turns and walks away. Intense.

At nightfall, Arya rides in the back of the cart. I sit close to Sandor. He has a cloak pulled up over his head. We ride up to the gate.

"Woah. Woah. Woah."

Sandor grumbles as he stops the horse.

"Where you going?" A man asks.

"Got salt pork for the feast." He explains.

"The feast is over." The man says.

"Doesn't sound like it's over." Sandor points out.

"If I tell you it's over, it's over." The man says.

"Turn this cart around and get the hell out of here." He orders.

"Got pigs feet too," Sandor explains.

"Are you soft in the head? Turn this cart around." He orders again.

I turn to see Arya's gone.

"Sandor, the girl," I whisper.

He goes to get her. He brings her unconscious body back. I look at him.

"It was necessary." He grumbles.

He climbs on the horse with Arya in front of him.

"Get under my cloak." He orders.

I climb up.

"Any of these men spot a pretty face like yours they'll want it." He warns.

I sit under his cloak but still watching. The men fight. We stop and Sandor grabs a banner.

"King in the north!" They chant.

Rob's dead body slumped on a horse with his wolf's head where his should be.

"Oh my god." I gasp.

We turn and ride off.

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