#wanted to fart this out before i travel for the holidays | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youarejesting · 3 years

Text

Sea [1/2]

Beta: @lillielil @aroseforyoongi @seokjinssymphony @kpooplifeforever @explosiveranga & my good friend Z (let me know if I left anyone out.) Rating: 17+ Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Fluff, Comedy, slow burn, slice of life. Words: 6.8k

Summary: After your plane to Korea takes an unexpected detour, you are stranded with someone you aren’t even sure speaks English. As the race begins to stay alive, emotions run high and tempers short. The unlikely contender in the survival race is love which snuck up on you both.

The thought of a thirteen-hour flight didn't bring you much joy. Why would it? Being trapped in a small box with wings, not to mention being stuck in said box with multiple people breathing recycled farts and eating some sort of wet styrofoam they called food that would most definitely give you food poisoning. Oh yes, what a joy it would be to be in a seat for hours on end, letting your skin slowly dry up.

Arriving at the terminal, you stood waiting for them to start boarding. You would have been sitting if there was a single seat free. Seriously, some asshole had even dared to lay across no less than five and a half seats, his bag resting on the empty chair at the end.

He was wearing all black and looked comfortable in his jeans and hoodie. His black cap pulled down over his eyes and you could see the bleached blonde hair sticking out from underneath. Big chunky headphones on his ears made it possible for this man to drown out the world around him.

You glared at his legs, growing tired, knowing that within a few hours you would be begging for the chance to stand up. If you were to take a mental count, there hadn’t been any nice experiences you could recall in regards to traveling on a plane.

Did that reflect the quality of service or your standard of air travel? No. Obviously, your standards were realistic, not expecting the flight time any shorter or the staff to give a foot massage or anything outrageous.

You really didn't want any extra luxuries other than what was offered in the pamphlet — and yes, that meant you chose first-class — because if you were to suffer, you would do so in the best environment.

Unfortunately, the reality of it was that there was no better or more comfortable way to travel. Checking in, you would be boarding first before the other passengers, not really a privilege. However you got in line anyway behind the young man who had previously been lounging across the airport seats. He was holding up the line having lost his passport and you were getting more and more pissed.

You were simply just having a bad day.

A woman behind you started openly arguing, exclaiming that this man was not allowed to ride first class as he clearly wasn’t fit for it. Bringing up his style of dress and the headphones around his neck. You turned, glaring daggers at the woman until she became silent.

Society taught people to judge based on appearance, that everyone fit into a category, never mind the old adage to ‘never judge a book based on it’s cover’. Stil, you were always respectful and treated others equally, maybe even getting to know a person that you wouldn’t in other circumstances. It always surprised you how much you enjoyed taking a risk and getting to know them.

Once you showed your ticket and passport, you traveled down the long hall towards the plane. You saw the man in front of you talking with another man. He seemed to respect him and was reading him a schedule from his phone. You raised your eyebrows and smiled at the young stewardess who welcomed you on board. Her hair was pristine in a tight bun and her crisp, dark blue outfit was paired with a red scarf.

Stepping over the small gap, you felt the cold of the air conditioning, yet the air still felt thick. There were three places you could go to feel this type of cold: the dentist, an airplane, or the movies. First class was spacious with only a single cubicle on either side of the aisle. You took your seat. It was like personal rooms where you could close a sliding screen for more privacy, even though you were sitting next to someone, you wouldn't be able to see them at all.

The seats were more like arm chairs that one could lay back completely in, made with a brilliant blue leather. The cubicle room was complemented in a similar shade but with red features. You had a tv and a tiny minibar that had a small selection of drinks and snacks.

The flight attendants took all the passengers through the safety instructions. You could practically write them at this point. However they added a few things you had never heard. You had never heard such in-depth instructions going beyond the general life jackets, floatation devices, and first aid kits.

Never before had they told you about the airbags that would be deployed if you crash in the ocean. Apparently the emergency escape slides doubled as floatation devices and could hold up to one hundred and thirty people comfortably. They even explained how they detach these rafts from the fuselage and that they have ropes that allow them to be tied off to each other or the airframe.

Distracted by a tired male sighing beside you, you wondered who would fall asleep during the safety messages. Sure they were boring, but even you pretended to care. When you turned to see the culprit, he was disappearing behind the plastic divider of his cubicle dragged by his long pale fingers.

Well, at least you had some privacy. It was something you were thankful for, you wanted to get comfortable, or as comfortable as you could.

Perhaps these new instructions and information were deemed irrelevant to domestic flights. Or perhaps it was for the very enthusiastic kid they led through the first class discussing more of the plane's anatomy. “What if a wing falls off?”

“The plane is really sturdy, the wing wouldn’t just fall off” She grinned, “Let’s see what the pilot is doing and we can get your mum a picture wearing the captain's hat!”

After the flight attendants thanked everyone for listening, the plane took to the sky. You closed up all sides of your cubicle and requested to be only woken for meals. The stewardess was very diligent and for that you were grateful.

The journey was nearing the six hour mark and all that one could see was clouds and the ocean. The collection of empty water bottles were a poignant reminder to relieve your bladder.

You stood up and waddled determined to go to the bathroom. It was inconvenient to drink so much water but you didn't want to get dehydrated.

Feeling much better, you took a few minutes to look in the mirror and moisturise as your skin was feeling particularly dry already. Startled from your self care routine by a light rapping on the door, you packed up your things and pulled open the door. Unfortunately, at that moment, the plane shook.

It was like something from a romance novel, the way you fell against him and yet, there was nothing elegant or poetic in the way you fell against him.

Your face slammed into his chest and his head hit the wall with a heavy thud. "Sorry, I'm sorry"

"Shibal" he said, his language was something unlike you have ever heard, it was rhythmic and sounded like a song. His voice was so low and rumbly it almost sounded like he was purring.

You weren’t well versed in other languages or cultures, so you didn’t know what he was saying. This was your first time leaving your country. If it wasn’t for the damn holiday raffle at work, you wouldn’t have even left your house. Every other flight you had ever been on was domestic and therefore your suffering was short lived, but this flight was long and you were getting rather bored. It seemed your mind was reeling trying to absorb all that it could and currently that meant the poor man you had body slammed into the wall was under your perusal.

His body was thin unlike yours which was curvaceous. His hair was dark and shaggy making his pale skin almost ghostly. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were quite intimidating as they glared at you and his small downturned lips were yet to speak. He seemed like a man of few words. All this coldness was juxtaposed by his cute round nose. You could tell from his features that he was from Asia, but you couldn't pinpoint where.

Grabbing your shoulders, he started to push you off of him, when the plane shook again and you both fell back into the small bathroom. Your back hit the toilet, and a searing pain bloomed from the impact causing your body to lock up as it radiated through you.

The seat belt light came on. You both scrambled to your feet bumping into the walls, sink and each other from the unstable winds shaking the plane. Struggling back to your seats when the cabin pressure changed. There was a creaking sound and the plane started shaking. You immediately felt a sick sense of dread. The pilot spoke calmly about turbulence and requested everyone return to their seats. But the pair of you couldn't move down the aisle to your seats.

There was a sound like a car backfiring and someone from economy class shouted about the wing being on fire. Your grip on the young man's coat tightened and a terrifying sound like metal groaning filled the cabin. That didn’t sound like regular turbulence, you were sure of that.

Sharing a horrified look with the young man, you got up the courage to try to push off from the wall. Unsuccessful, you were once more pressed against the wall. The plane was plummeting. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the emergency box. What was this emergency and what in that box could fix this situation?

"You need to return to your seats,” the stewardess said. The smell of smoke was strong and it filled the inside of the plane quickly. You hadn’t even seen the stewardess trying to climb through the plane. Her grip strained on the walls and seats as she fought against the force pushing her back. “We are making an emergency landing."

The metal sound was louder. Shrieking like nails on a chalkboard, it pierced through the cabin. You watched as the side of the plane ripped completely off with the ease of someone removing the plastic off a new fridge. There was a feeling of being weightless before a drop on a roller coaster, and then it was like your stomach was left behind. The stewardess was sucked out from the cabin behind you.

You and the young Asian man were sliding backwards down the aisle trying to find something to grab onto. The floor in first class was some sort of linoleum and gave you a nasty burn as you slid. It was like fire against your skin. As the pilot fought with the plane, you practically bounced off every seat.

It felt like you were weightless for a brief moment as you were lifted off the ground, your back hit the roof before you smacked the floor again. All the wind had been knocked out of you.

The pilots were fighting against the drop, so in the moment of calm before the plummet, you grabbed the leg of an economy class seat as it was bolted to the ground. You looked at the young man, watching the panic as he realized he was too far away to hold on and dangerously close to the large opening. He began slipping out of the plane, his hands flailing before clamping around your ankle. The two of you were almost hanging outside the plane.

Everyone in economy class was panicking and wearing oxygen masks. No wonder you couldn’t breathe. Gasping for breath, you cursed yourself for liking all those action movies that made this look easy.

“Hold on!” You all but screamed more to yourself than the poor guy holding your leg. He was being completely battered by the wind. You felt his hands slipping and you reached down with one hand to grab his wrist and he grabbed yours. He looked thankful.

“Shibal,” he groaned, his voice straining. Your body was being stretched. The cold metal was unforgiving, and it tore apart the skin on your palm. Your eyes were watering in protest to the wind and smoke that was drying them out.

The drink trolley that the stewardesses had been moving through the aisles had gotten loose and went flying down the plane. It hit an old man in the back of the head. You knew he wouldn’t make it, and speaking of, it was headed straight for you. You watched in fear, like some horrifying game of chicken as the trolley came for you. Thankfully, it bounced on the floor inches from your hand and flew out of the plane.

It was a mix of flinching and the force of the wind that made your hand on the chair slip. You slid further out of the plane, grabbing the exposed shell of the plane with your free hand. Your other hand desperately clutching the young man's hand watching in horror as he smacked into the side of the plane unconscious. “Shit!”

His body was limp and you had to do something. With all the strength you had, you tried to pull his flailing form closer to protect him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the ocean quickly advancing. You were going to hit the water.

The breeze pressing against you was fierce. Your eyes were dry, making you think of your eyedrops in your carry-on luggage. You could see the water coming up quicker now; you tried to gauge what would be a survivable height. Knowing you had a higher chance of surviving freediving as opposed to hanging halfway from the plane, where you would both slam head first into the plane. You decided to take the leap.

Screaming in absolute terror as you watched the fast approaching water, you let go just in time. It was equivalent to a few stories on a building from the ground. Wrapping him in your arms, you pointed yourselves down deciding to break the fall. Lifting your free hand above your head like you were doing a high dive, you hit the water. It was such a shock, the liquid was so cold it caused your muscles to lock up.

Your adrenaline was pumping, and one of your arms felt numb and unresponsive. You swam oddly to the surface, gasping when you felt the air on your skin. He was unconscious, and you held his face out of the water.

The plane wasn't too far away and for now was on the surface of the water. The emergency exit inflatable slide, which doubled as a raft, had been deployed but no survivors seemed to climb out.

You swam in a side stroke to keep your damaged arm and the young man's unconscious form out of the water. You hoped he was going to be okay. The only thought in your head was making it to the raft and you were doing everything in your power to get there, even contemplating leaving him behind. But you weren't going to give up, a part of you wanted to prove you could do it.

Reaching the raft felt euphoric. Taking a deep breath you pushed him into the raft. Doing a quick check of his head and body, you noticed he was breathing oddly. You turned him on his side and tried to clear his airway. A little bit of water trickled out before you performed CPR. Your saving grace came when he coughed and spluttered, placing him in the recovery position and hoping he would be okay on his own for a moment. You looked around for any more survivors. There was luggage floating around, and you picked up all you could from the water.

Walking along the inflatable back into the plane, the water was not as high in first class. This was probably due to the hole in the plane in the economy. The right side being the only one of the inflatables that had inflated beside the plane. Keeping the plane precariously afloat balancing on two inflatables which had malfunctioned and inflated under the plane.

Moving quickly and wading through the icy water, you grabbed the emergency kits on the wall. You had passed by deceased passengers and tried not to look. It was eerie and unbelievable even though it had only just happened.

Bags littered the water and you guided them towards the exit and put them on the raft. You could save these people's possessions for their family, or there could be items inside that could be of use and save your life.

You also noticed the flight attendant area and raided the cupboards as quickly as you could. You grabbed the medical kit, some slippers, a range of very thin blankets that were wet and even some snacks carrying everything back to the floatation rafts. As an afterthought you braved a second trip back into the plane to grab your and the other man’s overhead luggage as you knew he would likely appreciate it.

Finding a bunch of cell phones floating around the cabin. You grabbed them all hoping one would be waterproof. You found a few that were still turned on, but only one seemed to have some sort of signal. The plane creaked as you started making the emergency call.

“Come on” you begged the phone to connect. The whole plane creaked again and tilted; it wouldn’t last long. You had desperately searched for survivors but there was no one obviously alive. You tried your best to check their vitals, but time was running out. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be cursed for pronouncing everyone dead.

"Hello, this is an emergency service hotline?" A voice cut through the silence, you looked at the phone about to cry in relief "fire, ambulance or police"

"Hello, we were in a plane crash, my name is y/n, we were on a flight from Los Angeles to Seoul"

"What is your location?" the woman said, confused by your description.

"The ocean" you hissed "we are on a life raft"

"How many people are with you, what are their names?"

"Just one. I don't know his name. He is asian. Um really thin, um, has dark hair and—”

"You seem to be breaking up" the emergency operator said with the voice cutting out. You looked down at the phone in your hand and sighed. Of course, if everything was going wrong, a phone in the middle of the ocean apparently won’t save you. You thought to yourself, ‘it is 2021 so why isn’t service available everywhere?’ Pocketing the phone you began making your way out the plane.

You headed back to the inflatable and made the decision to cut the plane free. Scared that it would bring the raft down with it. Grabbing more luggage from the water, you thought it best not to watch the plane sink. It would only make you feel worse.

The time went by slowly. It took hours for the plane to disappear. Even though you had promised yourself not to look, you had. Taking glances as the plane slowly sank and you drifted further away.

The moment the plane was no longer in sight, you curled up and let the tears fall. The sun began setting and the heat turned into a bitter cold. Your wrist was still quite swollen, and you decided to wrap it as you drifted along. You had been so sure that there would be something or someone to see you drifting, and you would be saved.

However one cold night became two, and then three, only breaking for the scorching heat of the day.

You thanked yourself for watching all those ‘lost on an island’ movies and television shows; you had learned some things along the way. You also had your father to thank for always dragging you along to the volunteer emergency services programs, ones where you learned how to survive in a forest. At the time you thought it was super lame for your friends to go to nice hotels by the beach for their holidays and you were making some sort of mealworm dish while making stick shelters.

Going over the information you had in your head, you knew water was the priority. The instructor had said humans can go three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter and three minutes without air.

The sun would dehydrate you quickly. You had made a small shelter with luggage and blankets to protect you from the sun.

If you didn’t find land, you were going to have to make some sort of man-made evaporation device to create water. As it was, you were slowly getting the unconscious young man to drink little amounts of bottled water, for he too needed to stay hydrated.

The man you were with had awoken the third day. He seemed a little freaked out about being alone at sea. You explained calmly, not wanting him to do anything drastic and he sat there processing things.

You gave him a bottle of water and something to eat. The two of you continued drifting, not speaking a word to one another. You spent most of the time trying to craft something to float on the ocean and create clean drinking water.

(This evaporation device floats on the ocean and mimics rain by the water droplets sticking to the plastic cover over the whole device when weighted in the middle it then drips back down into a bottle. I can find a reference picture if you need. [Here] [Here] [This one is like what I made in 7th grade camp])

But you couldn’t get the water to land in the bottle and the bottle to stay upright. He was no help, just laying in the shelter out of the sun. The raft was big enough for about one hundred and thirty people. And yet, the two of you sat close by and didn’t say a word.

You were covered in sweat and felt absolutely disgusting. It was time for you to get changed. What a stupid way to die, not from dehydration, or malnourishment, or even sun exposure, but from lack of hygiene. It was decided.

“I am getting changed, don’t look,” you breathed, opening your carry-on bag.

“I don’t want look,” he muttered back in English and turned away. You quickly put on something that covered your shoulders and tried getting some rest. You didn't want to alarm him, but you both had consumed the last of the water and food rations.

It was late that night when you heard a different sound. The raft was moving a lot more. These were big waves and a part of you hoped it was not a tsunami or whale activity.

When the sound got louder, you were reminded of the beach when waves crashed on the sand. Looking up, you saw something big approaching. It was a body of land. Suddenly, your chances of survival greatly increased, now that you had a way to get out of the water. Nervous about putting your hands in the pitch black water, you looked at your companion peacefully sleeping and made the decision to paddle slowly. Anything to increase your chances of getting to safety. You eventually washed up on the beach, arms aching and stepped out to drag the raft onto the sand.

It was late and still dark, but you had to do something. Thinking that perhaps if you found someone, you would both be saved straight away. You waited on the raft until the sky lightened, and then you got to work collecting sticks and starting a small fire. You took the empty water bottles, hoping to find a clean water source or some fresh water that you could boil.

You walked to the highest point in sight, not seeing any signs of large predatory animals was a good sign. When you reached the top, you felt a sense of satisfaction as you had overcome the many trials and tribulations. You made it through a plane crash, survived on the water, and made it to land.

Looking around, you saw something bone-chilling. This was an island and judging by the lack of people, houses or establishments, it was uninhabited. There was no civilization to be seen. You saw the tufts of smoke from your fire and tried not to cry. You were stuck here until someone could rescue you.

Pushing the minor breakdown aside, you thought about water, it was important. Scanning the island, there seemed to be a small waterfall and tiny lagoon at the bottom. Since the rain, the waterfall was running pretty fiercely. You mapped out a path back to the beach which would detour past the waterfall.

By the time you reached the beach, your arms were exhausted with the weight of the now filled water bottles. He was awake and briskly brushing his reddened cheeks with his sleeves, turning his back to you. Sympathising with the man who probably thought you died, fell overboard or abandoned him.

You pulled out the metal pot from the plane and began boiling the water, in an attempt to kill any bacteria in it. The tide was going out. you knew you should be thinking about food as the next priority, but you wanted to sleep. Being primarily awake for a few days was taking its toll.

It took everything in you to get yourself to move and get to work. Taking large rocks, you carried them into the water until you were knee-deep. You were building a V- shaped wall, so when the tide came in, it brought with it fish and when the tide went out, they would be trapped.

Pouring the now cooled water into the bottles, you started thinking about your plan. First, you thought about short-term needs, in case you were rescued soon, and then long-term needs, in the event you weren’t rescued for months or perhaps years. You paused, forcing yourself to think and accept the fact that there was a chance you would never be rescued.

The Asian man had gotten up and looked around hopefully. Handing him a now clean and sterile bottle of water, you frowned looking around with him. "There is no one here." He didn't say a word, staring at you while drinking slowly.

You huffed, trying to figure out how you two could survive on an island. He watched you fuss around trying to make a shelter out of sticks but it collapsed everytime.

“Just no,” he muttered. You tried not to openly sneer at him. Grabbing the raft, you dragged it across the sand. As the raft was built for a large group, it seemed all you were doing was digging your feet into the sand. But little by little it was dragged up the beach thanks to the tide. It took some convincing but you had gotten help from the young man. The two of you madly struggling to lift the inflatable slide to a tilt against a tree. It was still inflated so you hoped you could use it for something else if needed.

Before the tide came in that evening, you ran out to the water. Your hopes were crushed when you found no fish and saw that the wall had broken. Carrying more large rocks into the water and making the V bigger and stronger, things weren't looking great, but you were trying to do your best. Cold from splashing around in the water, you went back to the shelter, but the fire had gone out by this point.

Looking at the young man, you let out an exasperated sigh. Did he not care for his life or yours? Contemplating while gathering more wood, you realized that you had been doing all the work, while he was just lazing around. “We need more wood, come help,” you gestured for the young man to follow, but he sneered at the thought and leaned away from you.

“I just lay uh here and wait to…” he thought over his words, slowly forming an English sentence “die or be rescue,” he mumbled. You were too exhausted to argue. It could wait until tomorrow, and you would both freeze tonight. Maybe then he would understand the importance of working together towards a goal.

You felt absolutely disgusting. hearing the loud patter of rain, you walked down the length of the shelter. On one side was the raft, and on the other was the luggage, built into a wall. You took out some clean clothes and stepped into the rain. Peeling off your seawater and sweat drenched clothes, you stood in the dark and tried washing your body with a tiny travel soap you had found in a bag.

You scrubbed your body of sweat and turned back to the shelter. Grabbing your towel, and wrapping it around your body, you stepped inside. He was laying on the makeshift bed you had prepared. He looked over, and when he saw you just in a towel, he rolled away. It was embarrassing, you who loved privacy and comfort were showering all exposed in the rain and getting changed in the same vicinity as a stranger. That night, he took the only dry blanket, so you laid there with wet hair and damp skin, shivering.

You were thankful for the sun rising, and it took a few minutes for you to thaw enough to move, but when you did, you deemed it time for him to do some work. The two of you gathered sticks and leaves. He barely helped, and when he got back, he laid back down and fell asleep in the shelter.

Building a fire, with the wood, took some time as it had rained the night before. The leaves helped fuel the flames. The fire didn't have to be amazing, you just needed it for warmth. You also hoped some rescue teams might even see the faint smoke.

At the sound of your stomach calling for sustenance you got up and went to check the rock wall you made and found a fish swimming in the shallow water. You grinned, carrying it back making sure to stoke the fire. You were doing your absolute best with the emergency kit knife.

You must have looked pitiful, as your companion took over, filleting the fish with ease, and he even cooked it. The two of you had fish for breakfast and you felt satiated. You took some of the supplies and got ready to set out for food and fresh water. He was dressed and trying to follow you, so you let him carry some of the empty bottles.

Except he wasn't cut out for endurance, he got winded quickly. It reminded you of the time you passed out during a school marathon. Yet you made the best of the situation that you could, walking slowly until you came across some sort of fruit that the birds were eating.

You took a couple of pieces of rotten fruit and then carefully dug up the small plant and began carrying it back. He followed you back. You placed the plant down. Using your hands you tried to shift the dirt until you had a decent hole where you could plant the little fruit tree. Watering it with some of the water you had collected from the lagoon, internally wishing the plant would flourish. It was hard pouring the fresh water on the plant but you had to if you wanted food.

You mapped out an area and put sticks in the ground in a box-shape, in hopes of starting a garden of any edible plants found throughout the island.

You took the old fruit you collected off the ground, put it around the bottom of the tree, and gave a small hopeful sigh. “Hopefully it will break down in the soil and feed the plant. Our fate is in your hands little plant”

You spent another night sleeping in the makeshift shelter and had to decide on what to do, so you sat up and turned to the young man.

"Hey, are you awake?" He sat up, his eyes narrow, "what do we build? Shelter? or a garden for food?"

He blinked before choosing "Shelter?” you giggled at his confusion, not trying to be rude. He knew more English than you knew Korean and that was definitely a feat.

“A home”

“Home, food later" he shrugged

It rained heavier, bringing with it a sense of sadness. There was no one waiting for you, no one looking for you. The tears began falling and you tried to stifle the sounds. He was still and you hoped he didn’t hear the breakdown. You hoped he was sound asleep as this seemed to be his skill. You were sadly mistaken; he wasn’t asleep. He moved and draped a blanket over you. He only drifted off when you exhausted yourself from crying.

Waking up with your back pressed to his back, the two of you had shared a few airplane blankets. Your body was aching, from sleeping on the ground. It was time to build the shelter both of you had been discussing. You needed someplace safe from the elements and a place with some sort of makeshift bed. Sand felt so soft, but was uncomfortable to sleep on.

Standing in the morning breeze, you began thinking: “How does one even build a house?” If people can make houses with only the land, then so could you. You had no excuse.if it didn’t work, you could try again until you figured it out. You knew there should be some sort of foundation. You could build between two trees, or with a big pillar in the middle, or four walls like a traditional home. Whatever you were going to do, you needed the materials, namely wood, but it’s not like you could just rip a tree out of the ground with your bare hands. You needed tools. Unfortunately, this island didn’t have a hardware store. This wasn’t like minecraft; you couldn’t just create perfect tools from nothing. Or, could you?

You got to work trying to make some sort of mock Stone Age axe. It gave you blisters, but you had successfully chopped a single tree down. Getting the hang of chopping the trees with your primitive tool, you had four trees ready on the seventh day. You dug holes in the sand, but it wasn’t holding the trunks at all. They kept toppling over. He told you it wouldn’t work, and you only huffed in response.

You would have to dig, until you found harder ground. This took another week, but you had four tree trunks in the ground in a modest square. You had started feeling dizzy while working, and your head felt clouded. It had been raining ever since you arrived, every night and lightly throughout the day, you didn’t think you had felt warm in a few days.

While making a wall frame out of trees, you started to feel dizzy again. You tied together the thin logs with multiple vines, and you hoped they would stay. The more you worked, the more your hands got torn up.

You were tying the last of the frame, when you felt your body grow heavy. You were so tired. You thought you would die by the hands of the lazy man. With that, all other thoughts left you as the darkness crept in.

The shelter was warm. There was a fire, and the blankets were wrapped around you, keeping you warm. Beside you was a bottle of water and a packet of painkillers. “Fever,” he sighed, “all work makes you uh… quick death?”

“Well, at least I am doing something. I have kept you alive, in the plane, in the water and now. I have done everything and what have you done other than act arrogant and lazy?” You said, “You haven’t even told me your name. We are stranded on an island. Maybe we will be rescued tomorrow, and it will be all in vain but what if it’s not tomorrow? What if it's months or a year from now?”

“What if never safe?” He argued, not looking at you.

“The point is, I don’t want to die in my twenties. I don’t want to die in general. I had dreams, to get married, have a family and be a loving wife. I was working a stupid office job, and I loved it. I won’t give up that dream. I will live with the hope that one day we will be rescued, and I will keep us alive goddamn it.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” He gave a dry laugh, “I have no care. I was not… supposed be on the plane.”

“I need you alive. I can’t do this on my own. If-” You took a deep breath, “If you die, I might do something stupid. I can’t live an undetermined number of days on my own”

He went quiet.

“Think about someone else for a change, it’s not all about you, Mister Asshole.”

“Yoongi,” he mumbled

“What?” You asked, too tired to be mad.

“My name is Yoongi.” He left the shelter, and you were left sobbing in the dark.

You woke up to Yoongi cooking fish on the fire; you were not expecting it. He hadn’t really done anything to help you. He mostly sat around, but the two of you ate together before you got to work. It was after a few hours you noticed Yoongi was gone again. It disheartened you that he was off doing whatever again, while you were working. You were completely exasperated by the young man, he maddened you, always on your mind. He was hot and mysterious and you hate that you couldn’t stop thinking about him because he acted nice once.

You began opening the suitcases hoping you wouldn’t offend anyone by going through personal belongings of the deceased. Clothes in all different sizes mens and womens, all different styles and one suitcase broke you, filled with tiny onesies and cloth diapers, dummies and ointments and medicines for a tiny baby. A pretty purple rattle with a cute butterfly on the handle.

You slammed the suitcase shut and pushed it across the sand to look at another day but for now you needed to step aside, the wound was too fresh. These were real people who died and yet why did you two survive, the most unlikely pairing with the worst odds and yet you survived when countless innocent lives were lost. It wasn’t fair.

A few days had passed, and you were trying to create something sturdy enough to withstand wind and rain with a roof and walls. You had plenty of resources, but you had to pick the right ones that would last.

You thought about it and decided to use the raft to line the inside of the house in the tarp-like material. It was super long, so you could do the roof and the four walls and still have the whole underside left over. You would weave leaves and sticks together to make them sturdier and layer them on the outside.

Putting your plan to action seemed easy yet tedious. You collected long palm leaves, removed the spines, and weaved the leaves tightly together, and laid them on the floor. The more you weaved, the faster you got. Painstakingly working every day, you rejoiced when all four walls, roof, and floor were finished and stable.

While you were doing all this, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. He returned at night, as he always did. He looked unbothered by all the work you had accomplished that day. You finished up, and the two of you ate and went to bed, which was just a collection of woven leaf mats covered in some of the leftover tarp from the raft.

You had moved the items from the shelter into the new house area. The two of you sat on the remaining raft fabric. “I made a bed out of leaf mats and covered it in the leftover material.”

Yoongi seemed impressed looking around, “잘 했어.”

“Jal haess-eo?” you repeated the sounds “What does that mean?”

“Uh… good work” He took your hands and pulled out a small succulent leave from his pocket snapping it and squeezing out the liquid inside. Applying it to the cuts and scratches on your hands gently. You noticed his hands were rough too, for he had cuts and blisters littering the his palms as well.

“Where did you find aloe vera?” you asked curiously. What had he been doing?

“Near the…” he made an action with his hand “폭포”

“The what?” You laughed, and he cracked a slight smile.

“Water shaaaa!” he made the sound and gesture of water falling. You laughed hysterically. He was so cute, when you got to know him.

“Waterfall?” you prompted, checking that was what he had meant.

“Ah waterfall!” he nodded, “Near the waterfall”

“What did you call it?” you said. You were genuinely interested. He had been trying his best to communicate with you in your language, so maybe you could learn some of his to ease the burden “Pog-o”

“폭포” he corrected.

“Pogpo” You smiled at him. he seemed a little happy that you were giving his language a try. “How do you say good night?”

“안녕히 주무세요” he said and you blinked shocked, so he grinned,speaking slower in syllables “Ann-yeong-hi ju-mu-se-yo.”

“Annyeonghi,” you repeated. He seemed eager to teach you more, so you stayed up as long as you could, learning Korean phrases until you both fell asleep.

[Part 2/2] coming soon...

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honey-makki · 3 years

Text

grandma’s blessing

best friend!hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death (family member), oral (fem receiving), fire, probably unsanitary cooking conditions if i’m being honest (it’s soft i swear)

summary: the holidays are your favorite time of year. your best friend hanamaki tries to keep holiday cheer alive despite the loss of a family member.

word count 2.4k

masterlist

Holiday’s are tricky. Decisions on whether the trauma of going home will be a heavier burden to bear than the guilt and loneliness of your city apartment. GOing home was never a pleasant experience. Trips filled with parents nitpicking your seemingly successful life and emotionally battering you about anything and everything they could. The only reprieve would be hugging your grandmother and being able to see her face-to-face during dinner. She understood why you didn’t come home every opportunity and didn’t blame you a bit.

On years when it would be too much to travel, you knew that she would still give you a call. Spending all day on the phone with you while you bounced around the kitchen making much smaller portions of what they would be eating at home. Even the small amounts of silence on the call were comfortable. You could feel her next to you kneading the dough for a pie while you mixed together the fruit base. It felt like home.

The silence that has been living in your apartment the past few months after her passing was suffocating. Weekends spent with friends at their apartment just to get out of somewhere that just seems to reek of death and despair.

You had spent more nights at Makki’s place in the past month than at your own. He was your closest friend, a true confidant, someone skilled at lifting your mood, and the person you’ve been undeniably in love with for years. You accepted the fate of growing old with a horde of cats as long as you can have his silly pink hair shining in the sun when you hung out with friends. It’s ok that you are going to be alone forever as long as you still had a standing laser tag date once a month. The only thing stronger than your feelings of love towards the strawberry blond was fear of losing him.

He has been a pillar of strength during the past few months. Holding your crying body until you fall asleep on his tear-stained and snot covered chest. Setting alarms in your phone to make sure you are eating or going to work instead of sitting in a dissociative state. Ever since you shared a bed with him, he’s been a little more comfortable with physical contact. Walking closer together arms touching when going out or throwing an arm over your shoulder when lounging around the house. You can’t count the number of times you’ve both woken up in various stages of cuddling.

He was the one to bring up spending the holidays together. He had just gone home for a wedding and couldn’t afford another ticket and he knew that you were in a weird spot. “We can stay here and make dinner and bake cookies and watch shitty r-romcoms? Someone has to appreciate Hallmark movies, why not us?” You can hear his voice crack and start to speed up as a blush rises across his face. You see it but don’t really process it, more relieved that for the first time in months, the thought of holidays didn’t make you run to the bathroom and throw up. You smiled and nodded, setting plans for him to come over later in the week.

Makki always liked when you cooked, throwing a western spin on dishes he considered normal. But today, he was flabbergasted, you didn’t let him just sit on the barstool curating music while you did all the work, no, there was too much food to be made for him to laze around. You laid out the recipe for your grandmothers’ mac n’ cheese, explaining what everything meant while you got started on an asian fusion stuffing you figured out a few years back.

You stole glances at him in the middle of stirring, combining and folding everything together. His tongue sticks out between his lips while he deliberately measures out the exact amount of cheese required. In all the time you’ve seen him, you’ve never seen him totally lose his laid back air until now, and you can’t control your laugh. Is he really more serious about measuring out sharp cheddar cheese than a game that would take them to nationals? Or that physics final he actually studied for? Your heart skips a beat when you see his soft, satisfied smile to the dish he just created. All you can picture when he looks over to you is how cute of a child he must have been. Cheeks round encasing his bright smile as his head tilts ever so slightly to the left.

After he slides the last dish into the oven, you both opt for taking the time to clean the kitchen, knowing that you won’t want to do it after dinner. The dishes are washed and dried and while Makki puts away the ones that go on a higher shelf, you return flour and other ingredients to the pantry but before you put them down you call out to him, voice lighter than normal, the one you use when asking a favor.

“Taka, how upset would you be if I said I wanted to cook a little bit more?”

“You get dishes this time around then, but what are we makin’?”

You turn out of the pantry with a bounce in your step before slapping down the flour and newly acquired, chocolate chips and sprinkles. “Cookies! We always made cookies with my grandma and it wouldn’t be the same without them.” Your eyes sparkle at the thought of the sweet treats and equally sweet memories of your childhood. Makki thinks you are breathtaking.

“Let me get the bowls back down and we can probably make mediocre cookies if you have anything you do with it.” He smiles at just how cute the squawk you made from his teasing is, just happy that he gets to be here with you. He doesn’t really hear how you defend your baking skills and complain that just because you forgot flour one time doesn’t mean you are inept at baking.

He never thought he would be the type to settle down and be domestic, it just didn’t seem like something he cared a lot about, but now he he can’t rid his mind of the thought of waking up ten minutes before your alarm just to make you a cup of coffee or throwing your favorite blanket in the drier on days it’s raining so when you get home, you can melt into the soft plush and warm up instantly.The clattering of spices brings him back to the moment, turning to see you picking up the cinnamon and vanilla extract.

“You good, love?” There’s something about how you look when you flustered because of him, that scratches an itch he didn’t know was there. The first time a pet name like this had slipped through his lips he was certain that whatever line the two of you were toeing had been crossed, demolished. Instead you just tucked your hair away and averted your gaze back to whatever shitty movie the two of you were “watching” that night. Now it’s normal, well its not normal, its very much not normal for him to refer to you as love or babe and it's not normal for you to exclusivley call him by his first name. It's decidedly abnormal considering your relationship or lack thereof. But if you aren’t going to question it neither is he.

He helps you up and gather the remaining ingredients for the “famous snickerdoodle cookies” that you swear had won awards. The mixing of the dough is interrupted when he has to grab your wrist to stop you from adding salt instead of sugar. You refuse to look at him because you know he is sporting a huge smirk and raised eyebrows, knowing that he’s right about you not being the best baker. You are reprieved by the oven going off, signaling to remove the earlier and change the temperature.

“Damn, babe, these cookies look so good, especially this one.” You return to Makki who already started to lay out the dough on the baking tray. You see perfectly round blobs squished slightly by a fork for a pattern and then right in front of him you see the cookie he was talking about. You didn't expect to see your 27 year old boyfriend-who-isn’t-your-boyfriend to be holding a cockshaoped cookie. But really, you should have seen it coming from the guy who laughs when either of you fart.

He can hear the clock ticking as you just stare, annoyed. He was concerned for a second, that maybe he shouldn’t have made a lewd joke when making cookies. This is something he used to do with her grandmother, you stupid idiot.. But when he can see the apple of your cheek peeking out from behind your hand, he recognizes that face. The one that positively exudes warmth and happiness with her laughter. The butterflies always buzzing in his stomach go wild when this face comes out. He would do anything to see it for the rest of time.

You don’t know where the courage comes from but you cup his cheek for a kiss, he mirrors your action. It just felt normal, and you honestly didn’t realize that it wasn’t normal until you both pulled back. Your eyes are locked on his, both of you sporting a soft smile until his keeps growing, evolving into a laugh that is borderline offensive in how loud it is.

You don’t know why and you get a little nervous that maybe he doesn’t feel the same way, when you go to hide your face, you feel the heat rising but also a soft powdery coating? And that’s when you realize his hands are still coated in flour from shaping the cookies. Your eyes are rolling while you chuckle but Makki on the other hand is losing his mind, almost in tears from laughing while putting the cookies in the oven. “It’s not that funny, Takahiro! Get me a napkin please.”

“Nah, you look really sweet. Good enough to eat.” You weren’t surprised when he returned to kissing you, nor when he lifted you up by your thighs and plopped you on the counter. The kisses are sweet, lazy and perfect for a second kiss, and a third and a fourth. This is normal. His lips belong on yours. Your hands should be tangled up in his hair while his run over your waist and legs. This is right. There's no rush to deepen the kiss, both of you happy to just indulge in the warmth of the other, but it is inevitable. A soft nip at your bottom lip or an accidental tug of his hair, neither of you know what happened first but you both are staring at each other, panting lightly with a much darker gaze than the original flour induced makeout session.

“You are just as sweet as I thought. Gotta have a taste.” His voice is raspier than you’ve ever heard and you just let him move your body as he pleases. Pull your hips to the edge of the counter. Spread your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Lift your hips when he pulls your shorts and underwear down. Gotta act as sweet as he says I am. He has barely touched you but when he falls to his knees and just stares at your dripping slit that he's imagined for years, your eyes, you are already imagining how good he's going to feel.

You shouldn’t even try to think, his tongue exceeded any expectation or desire you had. Expertly flicking against your throbbing clit as he works two fingers in you. You feel the groan he lets out when he dips his tongue into your hole before you hear it. The vibrations reverberate up your spine and through your body, an all-consuming heat starting in your stomach, threatening to let loose, to run rampant on your body. His fingers, joined by another, return to your clenching hole and search for the spongy spot hidden deep inside. All you can hear is the blood rushing through your head, drowning out every other noise.

“C’mon love, cum on my fingers, on my tongue, I’ve wanted, dreamed about this for years, give it to me.” His slow words juxtaposed the fervent pace of his fingers and it was enough to send you over the edge.

You feel so hot you fear you might pass out, the groan Makki lets out beneath you is the only thing keeping you grounded. You were first concerned that you had hurt him in someway, but when you see his eyes roll back into his head and his tongue trying to lap up every single bit of cum you squirted on his face and thighs, you know it wasn’t due to excruciating pain, rather it's just an obscene reaction to you.

When you push him back, squirming with overstimulation, you hear him scramble and “Shit! Fuck! Fire extinguisher?? WHERE IS YOUR FIRE EXTINGUISHER???” You are still out of it until he starts actually screaming, words still evade you but he follows your line of sight to the red tube hiding in the corner next to the fridge. The smell of smoke is overwhelming all of a sudden. You were in a dreamlike post orgasmic state and suddenly your coughing, eyes hazy.

the cookies, SHIT THE COOKIES!! Smoke is billowing out of the oven and your fire alarm is blaring, but soon the room is filled with a white foam originating from Makki. You never realized that the foam would continue to expand until half of your kitchen was covered in it and you saw a sheepish looking Makki on the other side.

“Fires out”. Again, he starts to laugh at you, and this time you join him. Today has turned out entirely different than you expected. It wasn’t a sad day, it was filled with laughter, romance, an ill timed fire and Makki. All in all, a successful holiday, despite the fact everything you cooked was coated in foam. He’d seen you staring at the food and already took his phone out to order food, “Indian or ramen?”

Yeah, you think you’re grandma would be happy seeing you like this. Happy Holidays.

a/n: i don’t really know what this is but the image of makki being a disaster in the kitchen came to me one day and here we are. make sure you read the other fics in the collab

matsukawa’s funeral home winter collab

a/n 2.0: also a/o to @iwaasfairy for making that makki image that i used in my header. i love her more than i love him which say a lot

#hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki drabble #hanamaki x y/n #hanamaki smut #haikyuu smut #makki smut #makki x reader #makki x you #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki.coffee #kristen.writes #oral.espresso

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sidestone-urban-legends-old · 4 years

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Sidestone is broken into two areas: the town and the forest. While most people live in the town, it’s not unusual for a few lost souls to live in the forest. Usually those who want to be left alone live in the woods, while those who are more social or lonely and want to fit in live in the town.

Below you will find a detailed description of some areas that are important to the residents of Sidestone.

A: Mundane Road

This road is named mundane because that’s what it is. To travel down this road means entering the world of the normal, or at least, what most humans on Earth consider normal.

This road is covered in thick mist. The closer to Sidestone you get, the thicker the mist, to the point where your hands are barely visible in front of your face. This is to keep the residents of Sidestone safe and keeps threats out.

Bless the people who actually manage to navigate the road and enter Sidestone without an invitation.

B: Nightmare Bridge

A creaky, old red bridge that crosses over Nightmare River. The holes in the bottom of the bridge trap the sounds of the roaring river below and make it sound like a thunderstorm on the inside.

Those who enter are spit back out the same side they’ve entered, meaning it’s hard for those outside to enter Sidestone, and those who come in are stuck in the town. The only way to safely make it across Nightmare Bridge is with the help of Thomas, who seems to always sense when there’s a visitor nearby.

C: Sidestone Square

During the day, this looks like just a pile of dirt. However, at night, the sky is lit with floating lanterns, and residents of Sidestone mingle together and converse about their daily lives. Calming grand piano music plays from somewhere, but no one knows from where.

In the center of the square is Spectrum Fountain. The water changes color during the night, making it a dazzling liquid rainbow display. If you stare in it long enough, your true self will stare back.

Festivals are often held in the square, the biggest one being The Autumn Festival. Candy, cakes, and pastries made special for the holidays are often available for anyone to enjoy, and games that capture the spirit of the holiday are scattered throughout.

D: Sidestone Town Hall

This is where Thomas takes all the new residents so that they can get registered to live in Sidestone. The building itself only operates when Thomas is inside, and should you enter when he’s not there, it’s an abandoned ghost building, literally. Better watch your step.

If you are simply visiting Sidestone, you will get a special bracelet that lets the other inhabitants know you are under the protection of Thomas himself and are not to be harmed. Only the wearer or Thomas can remove it. Do not take it off.

This is also where you can go to seek help, whether it be a rowdy neighbor or trouble outside of Sidestone. After all, those who enter Sidestone become part of the family, and family means no one gets left behind.

E: Sidetown

This is the living area of most of the residents of Sidestone, unless they choose to live in the hotel, of course. Most natives to Sidestone will refer to this area as Dead End Lane, because the pathways are surrounded by a high wall, and there’s only one way in and out.

Most of the homes are designed to accommodate their specific inhabitants, so inside the homes may vary. Some have large pools, while others dig under the ground. They all come in various colors, and some even change colors depending on the position of the sun.

For some reason, all the house numbers start with 8.

F: Mom’s

If you’re hungry, Mom’s is the place to go. Hosted by a woman that goes by the name of Mom, this is a restaurant, bakery, hot chocolate, tea, and coffee shop mixed into one. Most of the eating area is outside under a pavilion filled with comfortable seats and tables.

Inside, there are small, private areas for people to sit and relax in by yourself or with a friend. They are often filled with books and toys to stimulate or calm the mind, depending on what you desire.

All of the food and drinks inside are free of charge and all you can eat, so long as you are kind to all the guests who enter this safe space.

G: Stony Playground

The quirky name isn’t for show. All items in this playground are made of stone, from the smooth granite that makes the benches to the gravel that crunches under your feet. The park’s founder, Sarah, designed it to be made of stone in honor of their late wife, who she accidentally turned to stone many years ago. Her wife’s statue stands in the middle of the playground.

The playground features many things you would find on a playground, from slides to swings to a sandbox to a climbing set that towers three stories high. A merry-go-round plays cheerful music as the horses go round and round.

H: Nightmare River

A winding river that splits the town in half, Nightmare River is the main source of Sidestone’s water supply. Don’t be fooled by its narrow appearance. The river itself is deeper than you can imagine. The main river leaves the town and disappears into Mindscape Forest, where it feeds Nightmare Lagoon with a fresh supply of water every day.

The river splits off and runs through the Sidestone Hotel then goes to an unknown area. Those who have survived being down this part of the river refuse to tell people where it leads, leaving it up to everyone’s imagination.

I: Sidestone Cemetery

Of course, all things have to die, but this cemetery isn’t like the others. This one is more of a memorial than a burial site. The stones that line the cemetery are all names of those who have called Sidestone their home. They are often filled with the names of residents who have been lost over the years, and if you mention their name to some of the older residents of the town, they’ll get rather sad.

However, should someone happen to perish inside of the town, there is a morgue toward the back of the cemetery for those who have passed. To raise the dead from here without permission is strictly forbidden.

Memorial hours are every day from 9 to 10 pm.

J: Sidestone Hotel

A home for those who are just passing through or disappear from time to time but still visit the town frequent enough to need a place to stay. Run by one of the town’s oldest inhabitants, Cassie, this hotel is the perfect quiet place for travelers to rest their weary bones.

The hotel’s hallways are filled with webbed twists and sticky turns, making it easy for those inside to get lost if they’re not careful. If you do happen to get lost, seek the trail of spiders to guide your way. They are always running to Cassie, who is always in the lobby.

In the middle of the hotel is a lake fed by Nightmare River, offering a place to stay for those who prefer wetter conditions than a hotel room. The small pool of water also doubles as a swimming pool for residents who stay, though it’s swim at your own risk.

The hotel is thirteen floors high, but the doors won’t open on the seventh floor, and those who take the stairs are transported from sixth floor to the eight floor. Rumor has it the resident on that floor does not like to be disturbed.

K: Sidestone Library

Filled with rows and rows of books, the Sidestone Library has five layers and every book known to man. You can either read the books in the cozy reading area on the fifth floor or choose to take them home. All you have to do is find the librarian, Logan, and ask for a library card.

Every afternoon at exactly 3am on the third floor, a violin will play to entertain guests who like to read to music. The music will be anything from lively to sorrowful, depending on the mood of its player. The music goes on for an hour, when it slowly fades into nothing, much like the person who plays the music. No one knows for sure who is playing the music because no one has ever found them.

L: Sidestone Park

A series of twisting paths that wrap around the center of the town, Sidestone Park is used by those who want to go for a casual stroll or sit in the grassy areas to relax. This is a lovely area to picnic in.

Be mindful of which path you take, for it’s easy to get lost, and it’s hard to find your way out again if you don’t know where you’re going.

M: Sidestone Hospital

For those who are injured accidentally or on purpose, Sidestone is trained to help anyone who enters its doors. While most of the town is inactive during the day, Sidestone Hospital runs 24 hours with a skeleton and ghost crew. The head of the hospital is Mara, a woman with a special talent for creative and often inhumane treatments.

For residents who desire more meaty meals, a cafeteria sits in the basement of the hospital. To enter requires a special key, as Mara doesn’t want to clean up the mess if someone who shouldn’t be there ends up on the wrong floor. She can’t use picked clean bones, after all.

The hospital has ten floors if you don’t count the three floors below the ground. The elevator takes you all the way to the top floor, which is often used to look over the whole town. Residents often go here to watch the full moon rise.

N: Sidestone Theater

A more recent addition to the town, the Sidestone Theater puts on a play for its residents every year on June 15. Mostly filled with volunteers, this three floored theater seats guests of all ages and sizes.

The leader of the theater is a new resident named Roman, who plays most of the main roles, and he is often accompanied by his good friend Janus, who can play practically any part.

The only rule of the theater is to remain quiet while the show is going on, unless you are encouraging the actors. It’s rude to talk during a performance, after all.

O: Sanders Manor

An old Victorian styled home at the mouth of the Mindscape Forest, Sanders Manor has been passed down in the family for generations. Its current owner, Thomas, is responsible for everything you see before you.

The home itself has 99 bedrooms, 24 bathrooms, a kitchen with cobwebs, a grand ball with no dancers, a never ending hall that seems to stretch farther than the house, an attic that makes horrific noises in the middle of the night, rooms that are completely upside down, and stairs that seem to lead nowhere.

Only Thomas knows how to navigate the house, so it’s best to stay with him. You wouldn’t want to get lost in there, after all. He may never find you until it’s too late.

P: Line of Thought Pathways

A series of pathways that winds through Mindscape Forest and lead to Nightmare Beach and Nightmare Lagoon, this trail is only lit by the light of the sun or the moon. The path is long and winding, and it takes a whole day to walk around the whole thing if you stay focused.

The path itself is made of dirt, and it sometimes disappears after a heavy rainstorm, so it’s a good idea to only travel the path once it’s able to regenerate itself. The pathways also change a lot, so be mindful to where you walk. Sometimes you can see the paths change before your very eyes.

Some mock pathways lead to dead ends, but these are not part of the trail at all. Be mindful if you step onto these tricky paths, for they will abandon you in the woods or lead you in a never ending circle.

If you stray from the path, don’t worry. If Patton takes a shining to you, he’ll gently lead you back to the path without going near you, but don’t thank him for his kindness.

Q: Mindscape Forest

A protective wood that surrounds Sidestone, the Mindscape is made with a thick redwood series of trees. The trees tower almost a mile high, and they are too thick for most people to see around. They are rumored to be over a thousand years old. Some are hallowed out and are turned into homes by its inhabitants, but they must ask the tree for permission to live there.

Those who don’t live in the town and prefer the solitude of a more private life, the residents of Mindscape Forest are as far from normal as you can get. Most choose to live just how they are and not blend into society. The residents themselves range from friendly to malicious, so it’s a good idea not to trust anyone who approaches you unless you know them personally.

Only enter the wood during the day if you don’t live there.

R: Nightmare Beach

A popular resting spot for those who prefer to bathe in the sun, Nightmare Beach is made of pure white sand and surrounds all of Nightmare Lagoon. The sand is always cool to the touch and is always soft. It’s perfect for making sculptures and castles. Just don’t bury anyone in it.

Sometime before the sun sets, there is a person that will sell you ice cream free of charge. They have any flavor you can think of, and they are usually a warning to residents that the sun is setting and it’s time to leave. Their name seems to change every day, but common beach goers refer to them as the Sugar Rush.

S: Nightmare Lagoon

A deep lake in the heart of the woods, Nightmare Lagoon is a bottomless lake that eats the water from Nightmare River. Many creatures inhabit the lake, but the most notorious is a quiet man named Remus, who protects the lake from anyone who should not be in the waters.

The water seems to have a mind of its own and produces waves from seemingly nowhere. It’s always polite to ask before you enter the water. If the water accepts you, it will wave its water onto your feet. If not, it will recede, warning you if you enter that it will not be kind to you.

If the water likes you, its said that it will gift you a pearl from the dark depths that is more valuable than gold.

#map of sidestone

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

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Klaine Advent Drabble 2020 - “Overdone” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt objects to the amount of mistletoe the decorating committee at NYADA hangs for Christmas … until he sees his chance to get a kiss from the man of his dreams. But catching Blaine underneath the mistletoe, even in a school covered in it, turns out to be more difficult than Kurt thought. (1693 words)

Notes: Re-vamped for the Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'dispensable'.

Read on AO3.

Kurt expected NYADA to decorate for Christmas. And considering he attends a school for the dramatic arts, he also figured the decorations would be over-the-top. But he takes exception to the ridiculous amount of mistletoe the decorating committee deemed fit to hang on everything, each bundle flanked on both sides by red garland (probably as a warning to less approachable people to run, which he appreciates).

Kurt sees mistletoe as problematic - a completely dispensable part of holiday decorating.

NYADA, on the other hand - not so much.

It hangs in hallways, in doorways, in bathrooms (definitely a sexual assault charge waiting to happen), tacked up as far as the eye can see. He removes a few of the less appropriate ones as a public service, especially when he discovers one dangling over his desk in costume design class.

There seem to be two camps of people when it comes to mistletoe – those who flock to it and those who avoid it like the plague.

Kurt identifies with the latter.

That is until he passes Blaine, the man he's been crushing on hardcore, in the hallway and sees him get caught beneath a sprig with another student. She shyly perches up on her toes to kiss Blaine on the cheek, and Kurt realizes this vile flora could be the key to unlocking a brilliant plan.

An excuse to kiss Blaine.

He's been trying to find a way of telling Blaine that he likes him since the moment they met. But regardless of the time they've spent together (mainly in class and on school productions), he has yet to find a way to let it slip.

He doesn't know how to make the first move.

At this rate, he'll be doomed to pining from afar until the end of the school year.

As fate would have it, as Kurt starts contemplating a plan to catch Blaine under the mistletoe, he finds he's standing underneath a bunch tied in red and white striped ribbon.

“Hello, Blaine!” Kurt calls, jumping at the opportunity when Blaine bustles by.

“Oh! Hey, Kurt!” Blaine smiles when he says Kurt’s name but keeps his nose buried in the score of a musical he’s planning on auditioning for over the break.

Hence, the mistletoe above Kurt's head goes unnoticed.

Blaine turns the corner at the end of the hall and disappears.

“Well,” Kurt says sarcastically to himself, watching Blaine go, “that went well.”

***

The second time Kurt sees his chance, he’s pulling costumes for a production that Blaine is co-directing. While Blaine sits in the front row of the theater, supervising a dress rehearsal, Kurt finds mistletoe hanging in the costume vault. He stealthily hides the three suits he’s supposed to be looking for behind another rack and sends Blaine a text.

To Blaine:

Having trouble finding the suits for Act 3. Please come to the vault and advise. Thanks!

He stands underneath the mistletoe, popping an Altoid for good measure. Several times he hears footsteps approach the door, but they eventually walk by.

Then ... a pause.

A distracting flutter grows in his stomach. The cramped room starts getting progressively hotter. After what seems like an hour, another set of footsteps approach.

This time, they stop.

The door opens.

A face peeks in.

And ...

Rachel bounces in.

“Hey, Kurt!” Her eyes land on him for only a second, then she starts scanning the racks. “Blaine said you need help finding the---oops!” She bites her lower lip, eyes darting upward. “Look who I caught under the mistletoe?” Before Kurt can object, she skips up to him and plants a cherry red kiss on his left cheek. “Ah! There they are!” She pushes past him without taking a breath. “They were right behind you! If they were snakes, they would have bitten you!”

“Oh, were they?” he says, watching her double-check the tags on the hangers, ensuring that these are, indeed, the correct suits. “Well, you know … last place you look.”

She snags the suits, pinches his non-kissed cheek, and heads out the door.

“Merry Christmas!” she sings. “And you’d better watch your head! That mistletoe is everywhere! ”

“Will do. Thanks for the warning.” Kurt watches her leave, waiting for the door to click completely shut before he throws an unattractive tantrum.

***

The third time Kurt tries to enact his plan, he takes no chances. He sets himself up underneath the mistletoe in the hall outside the dance room, knowing Blaine will have to pass by there on the way to his T.A. assignment. He sends Blaine a text, asking to meet, vague as to why. He can’t think of a convincing reason, and he doesn’t want to lie, but it doesn’t matter. Blaine says he'll be there even without an explanation.

Kurt smooths down his shirt, fixes his hair, tugs at the hem of his jacket, readjusts his shoulder strap. He can't stop fidgeting. The anticipation is unbearable!

The students in Cassie July’s class start to file out. Kurt does his best to look inconspicuous, but they ignore him anyway, talking excitedly about their upcoming holiday plans. Cassie follows them out, muttering about, “Fucking Christmas decorations!” and “Tacky ass tinsel!" She catches Kurt standing outside her classroom and glares at him as if he farted.

“Uh, Merry Christmas,” Kurt says with a weak smile.

“For God’s sake!” she growls, leaping up with an arm raised. For a second, he thinks she's about to smack him or dunk on him like a basketball hoop. She snatches the mistletoe off the wall. “I hate this stupid romantic Christmas shit!” Without a word to Kurt, she storms down the hallway, strangling the mistletoe in her hand, and tosses it in the trash.

“Hey, Kurt!” Blaine walks up to him, unaware of the violence against vegetation that just took place. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Uh ...” Kurt looks up at the torn garland hanging pathetically above his head. That's how he feels – pathetic. Why can't he get this one thing right? With the amount of mistletoe hanging about, the odds of him getting kissed by Blaine are in his favor. Maybe he should take this as a sign. He sighs. “You know what? Never mind.”

***

Kurt has one last chance to make this happen before classes wrap for winter break. He knows that Blaine’s last class lets out at 2:30, so Kurt leaves his class early, grabbing his books and his bag at 1:45 and racing out mid-lecture, hoping to make it to the front hallway before Blaine and cut him off.

Students have already started crowding the hallway, exchanging gifts, saying their last goodbyes before they leave for the next three weeks.

Kurt spots a cluster of red garland, and he knows that where there’s red garland, there’s mistletoe. He slides underneath it, standing there like a sentry, keeping an eye peeled for Blaine’s curls through the mob. Right on schedule (or actually, five minutes before), Blaine comes around the corner, carrying his bag bulging with everything he keeps at school over his shoulder.

So Kurt knows he’s leaving for the duration.

Not that he's going far. Kurt knows for a fact that Blaine's apartment is within walking distance of his loft. Even if Blaine goes home to visit his parents, they both come from the same state. They're bound to run into one another before the beginning of next semester.

Still, it feels like this is it.

His last chance.

“Blaine!” Kurt calls through a new wave of students washing into the hallway from behind him. “Blaine, can we …?”

“Kurt!” Blaine sees Kurt over the crowd but doesn't slow his steps as he hurries toward the door. “I’m sorry I missed you earlier, but I really have to run!”

“Blaine! Blaine! I just wanted to …!”

“I’m sorry, Kurt!” Blaine turns and waves, walking backward towards the door with a sympathetic smile. “I have to go!”

“Oh … okay.” Kurt waves back, sighing in defeat. “Merry Christmas.”

Kurt watches Blaine leave, a weight growing in the pit of his stomach. Serves him right, relying on some stupid Christmas tradition to get what he wants! A tradition he hates ! He should have just gone up and asked him.

Yeah, and how would that go?

We’ve had coffee a few times, went to the movies twice, and ate lunch together. I'm not sure if you noticed, but I think I'm in love with you. Would you kiss me?

Pathetic.

That's what he is.

That's what this all is!

Like Cassie said - stupid romantic Christmas ...!

Kurt feels a tap on his shoulder and freezes.

Shit ! He’s still standing under the mistletoe! Someone is behind him, expecting a kiss. With any luck, it's just Rachel again, delighted to catch him twice doing something that makes him really uncomfortable.

He sighs, resigning himself to the fate of having to kiss some random human unintentionally.

“Okay,” he says, turning around to face destiny. “Let’s do this.”

“Gladly.” An arm around his waist pulls him close. The familiar smell of Pierre Cardin fills his nose. He feels himself dip back, catching a flash of hazel eyes and a sly grin before lips capture his – soft and warm and incredibly gentle. It’s a breath of a kiss, lasting only long enough for Kurt to realize he’s being kissed, and by who , before the man cradling him in his arms pulls away.

Blaine sets him upright, holding him a second longer to make certain he has his feet.

"Oh!" Kurt mutters, the shock of being kissed by Blaine taking his breath, and his capacity for thought, away. But then he remembers, "Oh. Right. Mistletoe."

That wasn't a genuine kiss. Blaine doesn't like him like that. Kurt set himself up for this.

His gaze travels up, but over their heads, there is no mistletoe – just a string of fluffy red garland and a gold foil star.

Not a single semi-parasitic shrub in sight.

“Nope,” Blaine says, leaning in to brush his lips against Kurt’s a second time. “I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: dispensable #klaine #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction

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pinkanonwrites · 3 years

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Road Trip

Hi everyone! This is my piece for the Haikyuu Creations ‘Home Sweet Home’ Collab event! If you want to check out the rest of these amazing writers, here’s the masterlist! I chose Hinata, of course!

"Are you sure you aren't forgetting anything?"

"Positive!"

"You have all those souvenirs you bought for Natsu?"

"In the trunk!"

"Toothbrush?"

"In my suitcase!"

"... Volleyball?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Shouyou laughed as he loaded your shiny suitcase into the back of your small car, wedging it in alongside his own travel-battered one. "I'm gonna meet up with whoever else is in town for a game, of course we'll need a volleyball!"

"I'm sure Tanaka would have one to spare. Or a dozen." As he clambered behind the wheel you leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Do you really think they're gonna like me?"

You and Hinata had taken many first steps together up until this point, but first time meeting the family for the holidays? That was a big one. Of course Shouyou was optimistic, as per usual, but you couldn't help the twisting anxiety that coiled around in your gut.

It certainly didn't help that you had nearly a 4 hour drive there to let your nervousness fester. Delightful.

"Of course they'll like you! Kageyama likes you!"

"That's a bold claim, Sho."

As the car revved to life he gave you another one of those sun-blinding smiles that turned your knees to jelly in the best possible way.

"Trust me, he does! And mom and Natsu will love you too, I promise."

Despite your nerves you couldn't help but smile back. It was one of Hinata's greatest talents not volleyball-related, his ability to drive the worry from your mind with a few choice words and a well-placed grin.

"Now, what's on the radio for today, DJ?"

You rolled your eyes and plugged the AUX cord into your headphone jack. "Well, no podcasts, because if you crash the car while having a laughing fit I swear to God I will haunt you for the rest of your days."

Shouyou chose only to respond to your veiled threat by sticking out his tongue and making a fart sound at you, laughing when you did it back. As you aimlessly scrolled through your music and Shouyou pulled out onto the main road, your mind wandered. Funny how sticking your tongues out at each other had gone from something so mundane, so childish, to something that had made you innumerably happy.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The first time you met Shouyou the two of you were seated across from each other in a crowded airport, air thick with tension and irritation by hour four of your plane's six hour delay. You had done your best to keep yourself calm, headphones firmly over your ears and doing your absolute damndest to keep the frustration from boiling over.

You were exhausted.

You were sore.

You wanted to go home

And across from you, on the opposite bench, a grown-ass man was making faces at you.

He was sitting with a duffel bag tucked between his legs and every so often, when you weren't looking, you could swear he was sticking his tongue out at you. Like a child.

You did your best to ignore him, huffing softly as you stated down at your phone screen. But you could see him, out of the corner of your eye, still moving about, still pulling ridiculous faces. With a tank you tugged both headphones out of your ears, irritation bubbling over into a boil.

"Just what are you trying to-?"

Before you could even finish your sentence you were cut off by a loud giggling over your shoulder. A little boy was standing on the seat behind you, peering over the backrest of the bench. As his mother suddenly tugged him away the redhead smiled and waved, watching them walk off until they were out of sight. Then, with his chin tucked in embarrassment, Hinata Shouyou turned his attention back to you and gave you that blinding, megawatt smile.

"Sorry!"

And, well, how could you not fall a bit in love with him right then and there?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Blue slugbug, no backs!"

"Hey! Keep your eyes on the road, dummy!" You laughed and grabbed Shouyou's fist, pushing his hand back onto the steering wheel. He reached out to bump you again as soon as you pulled your hand away, giggling all the while. "How much longer?"

"Two and a half hours."

"Ughhhh…" Slumping dramatically back into your seat, you peered at him from the corner of your eye. "Do you remember when we first met?"

"Uwah! Don't remind me! You were so scary…"

"Scary?!"

"Your eyebrows we're all scrunched and I thought you were gonna yell at me! That was scary!" His expression betrayed his fake-terrified tone, and you could tell he was struggling to hide his grin. "You can take a nap if you want! It'll be like the plane."

"Stooooop, it's so embarrassing! I told you not to mention that!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

If nearly snapping at the handsome stranger (who had quickly and eagerly introduced himself to you as Hinata) hadn't been uncomfortable enough, you had gone from chatting casually with him during your layover to being squished next to him in the window seat of the plane for another 3 hours more.

Not that you minded that much. Like you said, he was handsome, and wonderfully easy to talk to. You had just been angling for a nice nap for the duration of your flight, and now it felt way too vulnerable. What if you snored? What if you drooled all over yourself?

"Want some pretzels?"

Hinata quickly pulled your attention back with a rustle of a plastic bag. Nodding, you stifled a yawn and helped yourself to a handful in hopes that having something to munch on would stave off your exhaustion.

"Thanks."

"No problem!"

You crunched down on a pretzel, praying your eyelids weren't drooping as much as they felt like they were.

"So what happened after you lost your wallet?"

"Oh! Well, I was moping around for a bit, but it ended up being okay! I ran into the Grand King- he's on the national Argentina team and we knew each other in high school and he was crazy strong, like bwaaaaahh, and he said that he was in Rio for practice…"

Despite his excitability Hinata had a deceptively soothing voice, and as he rambled you couldn't help but let your eyes slide shut for just a moment, focusing all your attention on the pitches and dips in his storytelling. Had anyone ever told him what a nice voice he had? He smelled nice too, kinda spicy and warm like cinnamon…

"Umm, sorry, are you awake? We just landed."

What.

You snapped to attention, disoriented. You had just closed your eyes for a second, just a second, and now the flight was over? You rubbed your cheek that had been pressed against soft warmth for the duration of the flight, the indent of a fabric seam pushed into your skin.

You'd fallen asleep on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay! It's okay! I was probably talking a bunch anyway, right?"

"No! I wanted to listen! You just have a really nice voice!"

Oops. Well, at least now you both seemed flustered. Hinata's cheeks were glowing, and he was fumbling over his response as he pulled on the cuffs of his jacket. Damnit, how could he be so cute?

"Here, let me get your bag for you."

He insisted on hauling your carry-on off the plane for you, juggling it and his duffel with ease as you stepped into the breezeway. People filtered out around the two of you as you awkwardly took your carry-on from him.

"Thank you so much."

"No problem! Hope you can get home without any more delays."

In just a few moments you'd be headed off your separate ways, disappearing into Tokyo. You'd probably never meet again.

"Hah, yeah I hope so. It was nice meeting you."

"You too!... I, uh, it was fun!"

9.3 million people, and one you, and one Hinata Shouyou. He turned the slightest bit, about to step off into the crowd. Your mouth made the call for you before your brain could catch up.

"Do you wanna get a coffee with me?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Wakey wakey, sleepyhead."

Shouyou's hand was resting on top of your head, gently wiggling you back and forth. Your pathetic attempts to swat him off and sit yourself back upright were met only with another peal of his cheery laughter.

"How much longer?"

"About twenty minutes! I wanna show you some cool places on the way there!"

"Sorry I slept the whole time, Sho."

"Don't worry! There wasn't much but traffic. And some sick guitar solos."

You chuckled, pulling the mirror down to adjust your sleep-tousled hair. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Shouyou looking at you, and you were ready to wheel on him and stick your tongue out again.

But he wasn't making faces at you this time. No, instead he was just watching, face soft with an expression of incredible, incredible fondness.

"I love you, Shouyou."

You couldn't leave him completely off the hook. And besides, he always turned a brilliant shade of red whenever you told him so directly. This time was no different, heat blooming up his cheeks and to the tips of his ears.

"I love you too!... Uwahh, Kageyama's gonna see me all red now! You did that on purpose!"

"Maybe.~"

"So mean!"

He quickly turned his attention back to the lazy country roads you were rolling through, excitedly pointing out familiar shops and hangouts from his high school years, faintest hints of red still high on his cheeks. You just watched him fondly, his brilliantly bright expressions, his eager, almost nervous tone.

Yeah, you didn't have any reason to be worried. After all, it was exciting to finally be meeting the other people who love Hinata just as much as you did.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu imagines #haikyuucreations #hinata shouyou #hinata imagines #hinata x reader #collab #long post

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thecat-isblogging-blog · 3 years

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I’ll be Home for Christmas

Summary: Lupin goes home to spend the Christmas holidays with his parents.

Author Notes: This is going to be a multi-chapter fic. I already want to put a TW for blood coming in the future chapters.

-------

22 December 1977 North of Wales - Beddgelert

Chapter 1

'I got a whole trunk full of fireworks back at my folks - even managed to sneak in two of those dragon fire ones.' 'Aren't they banned in seven countries?' 'Eight,’ James had corrected him. ‘And yes dear Wormtail, those very ones.’

Remus Lupin sniffed back the cold that prickled his nose and dragged his school trunk over the icy gravel. With his free hand, he wrapped his Gryffindor scarf over once more to shield himself from the wind - he would give anything to be back in the warm compartment of the Hogwarts train right about now.

Seeming as he was the only brave fool to walk through this cold afternoon in Wales – the town was pretty much empty. Remus peered inside the shops and pub windows as he passed them by and took in the soft glow of the festivities and chatter emanating from within. Frosted windows with Christmas greetings in Cymraeg, thick garlands with plump red bows were strung up over the dark stone walls and Christmas trees twinkled at each other. It was certainly all very pretty and charming, but Remus could not help feeling homesick as he pictured the Hogwarts Christmas trees which stood three times as tall.

Guilty at the thought of feeling homesick for a place that his parents weren’t exactly staying at, he pushed it hurriedly out of his mind.

A door burst open and Remus had to quickly sidestep a group of rosy cheeked friends who stumbled out of the pub. They laughed blissfully with their arms draped over one another, neither really helping each other in the difficult task of walking straight. Remus hastily kicked his trunk to activate his father’s concealment charm and the Hogwarts emblem disappeared just as the group stumbled passed him. Though, Remus figured, they were probably too sloshed to even take note of a Hippogriff landing in front of them and reciting the alphabet. But his father had always been adamant to take extra precautions.

The taller of the friends began to sing loudly, if singing was the right word, a muggle Christmas song.

'You call that singing? You’re as subtle as a fart in a chapel, ffwl!'

The friends began to roar with laughter and Remus glanced back over his shoulder - the group of friends had all joined in the singing, hobbling along in their drunken state. A bitter pang of jealousy floated inside him and settled in his chest as longing for his own friends. Tugging his trunk over a stubborn pebble, Remus continued his way home.

The singing had just turned into a barely audible echo behind him when he saw the stone enclosure in front of him. Remus paused and felt the usual bone deep shiver. Adjusting his scarf, despite knowing full well his reaction had nothing to do with the weather, he kept his eyes on the small opening between the walls.

Get a grip, you're almost 17 for crying out loud.

Remus took in a breath to puff up his chest (feeling a little foolish in doing so) he grasped the handle of his trunk firmly before continuing along the foot path. Drawing closer, the gap between the stones began to reveal the blackened statue of Gelert the greyhound. It peered at him with cold and lifeless stone eyes. The hound had been a hero of the town, protector of children, a symbolism of loyalty – a wolf slayer. Remus’ only salvation was that the hound was now only a legend encased in cold stone.

Just a statue, just a statue, just a statue

Remus quickened his step as he turned his back to Gelert and ignored the prickle in his spine that travelled to the back of his neck. He pulled his trunk off the cobbled stone which then met the dirt path with a muffled thud. The wind picked up instantly in the open field, his eyes began to water as they felt the sharp bite of it. Desperately pushing the image of the Gryffindor common room out of his mind, he took in a breath and hunched himself over to walk against the wind.

After a short distance, Remus looked up to see the first signs of home. Smoke billowed from the chimney of their small cottage which lay nestled at the foot of the valleys surrounded by tall grass and dried thickets. A large tree canopied behind their home, shielding the worst of the valley winds and provided enough privacy to the shed that sat out of view. Approaching the wooden fence, Remus knew to keep out of the grass which his father had charmed with everlasting stinging nettles to keep any curious muggles out.

He had barely unlatched the gate when he heard the front door open.

‘Hi mam,’ Remus looked up, dropping his scarf from over his mouth to smile.

Hope outstretched her arms to him. ‘My boy is home.’

#Remus Lupin #Lupin family #Harry Potter universe #maurauders era #thecat-isblogging-fic #HP #Sad times coming #Christmas #Lyall and Hope #fanfiction #Lupin fandom

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1041

survey by chasingghosts

What is the age gap between you and your parents? 27 for both. Technically, 26 years with my mom since she had yet to celebrate her birthday when she had me, but she was going to turn 27 all the same. Guh. I can’t believe I’m just five years away from that and I’m still nowhere near building my own family.

How many bathrooms does your house have? Is this enough? Two. I’d say it’s enough. Two people in the family rarely have to go to the bathroom at the same time so it works out for us.

Have you sent a letter to anyone in the past year? Yeah. I used to give Gabie a handwritten letter every Christmas along with her gifts. I still plan on writing her one, but obviously the content will be vastly different now.

Have you ever video chatted with someone you met online? I did this with Carley a handful of times; we’d video chat when I came home from school which was around the time she would get ready for school. She was such an extrovert who was so lovely and bubbly around me, and I’ve always felt bad that she had to contend with my shy ass with my mic always muted lol.

Are you hungry or thirsty right now? I’m neither but I can go for a light meal right now, which is great because I got myself a chicken barbecue sandwich and a caramel macchiato from Starbucks as a treat for myself tonight :) I went through five video call meetings just for today alone, went through several breakdowns while at work, and am also on my period, so I thought I deserved a break.

When was the last time you ate something, and what did you eat? Literally just had a bite from my sandwich.

Have you ever seen the film Boondock Saints? Nope. Sounds nothing like my type of film.

Do you own a pair of gumboots? Nah. I don’t like walking in floods anyway, so I don’t plan on getting a pair.

What colour is your favourite mug? Copper.

How far away from your town/city is your state's capital city? I already live in my province’s capital.

Have you ever worked somewhere where you had to clean the toilets? I haven’t.

Do you know anyone named Doug? No, not really a common name here.

What cut of jeans is your favourite and why? Do mom jeans count as a cut? I’ve been all over those throughout 2020. They’re stylish and yet so comfy, which are two words that seldom go together.

Do you rate people's attractiveness on a scale of 1-10? Uhhhhhhhh unless a friend asked me to rate someone they know, I don’t really think in these terms.

Name a few of your favourite actors. Kate freaking Winslet. Also Kristen Stewart, Emma Stone, Audrey Hepburn, Brie Larson, Florence Pugh, and Eddie Redmayne. I’d name Timothée Chalamet but I have yet to see a work of his.

Do you collect anything, or have you ever? The first item I ever collected was notebooks. In my past relationship (is it obvious I’m not over it yet and probably never will be? Ha) I initially liked to collect receipts from places we went to and ate at. I’d also like to be able to grow a collection of wrestling memorabilia, particularly action figures and belts. It’s not really a life goal of mine but it’d still be a cool thing to achieve.

So, how has your week been so far? I mean it’s only Monday, so nothing much. I cried and broke down a lot today which wasn’t a good start, but tomorrow’s a holiday so no work; and for Thursday I was invited to the Christmas party of the department I initially interned at and apparently they’ll be sending over a Christmas kit over to my place so I’m looking forward to these! It’s super touching they remembered and still invited me even though I’m not a part of the team anymore, so I wouldn’t have missed the party for the world.

Is there anything that you could cry about right now? Definitely, and being on my period at the moment makes it so much easier to cry. But I already cried too much and too hard earlier today and it felt exhausting, so I’m trying to avoid it tonight.

How old were you when you learned how to tie your shoelaces? I was five. I probably would’ve made myself learn later but one of our ‘exams’ in kindergarten was to show that you know how to tie your shoelaces, so I had to ask my grandma to give me a crash course.

Have you ever slept in a car overnight? Why did you have to? Yeah. I had to pull several all-nighters in college and work at 24/7 coffee shops, but I usually gave up by around 2-3 AM and would sleep in the car by then.

When was the last time you used Facebook? Earlier this evening, but I couldn’t scroll too much because spoilers for Start Up are everyyyyyyfuckingwhere and I’m still several episodes away from the finale, which aired last night.

Do you have a PO Box or does your mail get sent straight to your house? Our mails and parcels get sent straight to our door.

Are you interested in entomology? Do you know what that is? Never been. I think it’s great that insects have a lot of capabilities and contributions that we often take for granted; but I personally find a great deal of them icky as well lol so I wouldn’t say I’m interested in this branch.

Have you ever had to claim insurance? What for? Hmm I don’t think so. Not my own nor my parents’. Do you like to listen to albums start-finish without skipping or shuffling? I’ll do this sometimes with my favorite albums, yes. Fuck knows how many times I listened to After Laughter from start to finish with no skips; it was my favorite for a while.

Do you have any unspoken enemies, or maybe frenemies? I’m not the biggest fan of Patrice, but it’s not something I broadcast to people because why would I? I’m sure she slightly does not like me too, so we’re even.

What was the last thing you broke? That would be my last phone charger cord. I’ve since had it replaced though.

Do you have a favourite state/province/territory in your country? Not necessarily an overall favorite but I do have a favorite place I’ve traveled to, which is Sagada. I need a second vacation to see if it still lives up to my expectations and if it would still be able to give me an experience as cathartic and therapeutic as my first trip there, but for the last five years it has sat on the throne.

How many vowels are in your street name? Is this question too mundane? Three. I mean I’ve never been asked this on a survey before, so I wouldn’t call it that.

What are your three top favourite flavours of ice cream? Cookies and cream, chocolate chip cookie dough, coffee.

How far away is the nearest Target? At least a couple thousand miles away.

Do you prefer Target, Kmart or Walmart? Idk and idc.

Have you ever farted in class or somewhere else you shouldn't have? No. I suppress my farts, even when I’m alone haha it’s just my least favorite bodily function.

What's your middle name? Would you change it? I’m not giving it away. I wouldn’t change it and I’m definitely not giving it up even if I get married. I’m keeping my middle name then just hyphenate my surname so that I get to keep all three names.

When was the last tie you wore heels? What was the occasion? September. Job interview for a position I didn’t really want but still chose to undergo because it was still an interview.

Do you find yourself lost for words often? I guess yeah, depression does tend to do that to me.

Did you share baths with your siblings/cousins when you were a child? Yep, I remember sharing the shower with my sister as late as when I was 10. Then puberty happened to me and I did not want to continue the practice anymore, haha.

Have you ever been a member of an online dating site? How did it go? I joined Tinder while I was in a relationship (she made an account as well at the time so it was fair game) literally just to people-watch. I wasn’t interested in cheating; I was just genuinely curious to see how the app worked. I put on a fake name, age, location and my profile photo was of a cat I saw in school so it was impossible to tell it was me.

Do you know what your neighbours even look like? I would not be able to recognize them if you lined them up with a bunch of other strangers, to tell you the truth. I’d probably be able to recognize the carpenters working on the house currently being constructed in front of ours though; they’re super nice and they’re crazy over Cooper haha.

How many siblings does your best friend have? Angela is an only child.

Do you put ketchup on your fries? No. Ketchup does not go anywhere near my fries.

Have you been lucky enough to make out with anyone in the past week? LOL lucky enough...but no, I haven’t done that in a while.

Have your parents ever worked in the agriculture business etc. on a farm? Neither have.

Do you have an ex that makes you angry with literally everything they do? No.

Are you easily susceptible to brain freeze? No but tooth sensitivity, yes. I have a certain tooth that acts up whenever I eat ice cream, and it can get soooo inconvenient and uncomfortable for a few seconds.

#survey #surveys

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firesoulstuff · 4 years

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@smoaknsnow6 messaged me asking for Steelhacker 1. Things You Said at 1am

Zari settles herself into the mattress, her head in Nate’s lap and his fingers beginning to card through her hair. She’d missed this while she had been in the totem with her ancestors. She’s been back for nearly two years now, but still, sometimes her mind brings her back there in peaceful moments like this and she remembers to cherish it.

Which is probably why she’s losing her game.

This is what they do at night. She plays on her switch, he watches a documentary on deep space or some other science topic; something he’s interested in but doesn’t already know everything about. Sometimes she watches with him, sometimes not, it never really matters. So long as it’s the two of them she’s happy.

“Hey.” He says after awhile, and when he doesn’t immediately continue she pauses her game and cranes her head up to look at him. “Do you remember that talk we had in the lab a while ago? While we were working on the alien tech?”

“Ugh, where is Ray when we need him?” Nate asks as she returns, a mug of steaming coffee in each hand. “I swear, we’re never going to figure out how to unlock these things, never mind use them.”

“Hm.” She hums, and that’s all she has to offer, her expertise may be in hacking but so far when it’s come to these weapons she has been utterly useless.

So, she offers him his coffee.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

She takes a sip of her own coffee and claims the seat beside him, laying her mug to rest and then picking up a chipped piece of the casing.

“Are we still voting no on smashing them?”

“Ask me again in another hour.”

She chuckles, still turning the tiny fragment over in her fingers. While she’s doing that he takes a long, greedy sip of his coffee and nearly moans, which only has her grin widening.

“Oh man.” He says, lowering his mug but not yet relinquishing it. “Seriously. When I die, you are not allowed to make coffee this good for your next boyfriend.”

She laughs, “Don’t worry, my next boyfriend won’t have a secret stash of Ray Palmer’s favorite coffee grounds to steal from.”

He eyes her, probably trying to determine if she really went into the special stash he keeps for Ray’s visits. She did, and she knows he can see that clearly, but he keeps on drinking.

“Easy, Babe.” She warns him, still smirking slightly. “We need you awake, not off the walls.”

He hums, “I don’t know, I think off the walls Nate might be the best thing we haven’t tried yet.”

“Yeah, well I think off the walls Nate is the same Nate who broke our last time courier so...”

“Ok.” He says, unimpressed, and flipping her off.

They work well past midnight, going on 1am as well as their third round of coffee by the time Zari really starts to feel the fatigue hitting her. She’s taking a break from the weapons right now, searching instead through the files of kids the aliens abducted; looking for commonalties in their day to day lives that could have lead them all to that playground at two in the morning.

“I can’t believe none of these kids parents knew they were gone until the next morning.” She mumbles, “I mean, I know I’m not gonna be a perfect mom but if our ten-year-old sneaks out of the house in the middle of the night, I’m gonna know about it.”

He chuckles, looking at her with a grin before shaking his head and returning to whatever he is doing with that screwdriver.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“Simple. Second-story bedroom, alarms on the front door and first story windows.”

He snorts again, “We live in a two story house now?”

“If you want to live on the ship forever that’s fine by me, kid’s definitely not sneaking out in that scenario.”

He’s grinning at her, still laughing under his breath.

“No,” He says after another second, “We are not living on the ship forever. Maybe for a little while after we get married, depends.”

“On what?”

He shrugs, and it isn’t lost on her how casual this conversation is. They’ve talked about this kind of stuff before, to an extent, but it was before they were a couple. When they were just friends. The two of them and Ray mostly, but sometimes the others, would talk during these late night work sessions about their own futures. They would say things like “on a mission I’m going to meet a girl” or “I’ll bring my family back and go off to live with them, maybe see you losers on the holidays. Your holidays.” They didn’t always mean everything, 9/10 times they didn’t.

This is the tenth time.

Yet, it’s just as easy as the other nine.

“Couple things, I guess.” He says, “How long it takes us to decide between 2022 and 2044, cause we both want our parents around. And how soon after we get married we want to start trying for a baby. Dammit.”

He lets his screwdriver clatter to the floor when it slips violently from his hand. She watches it fall, her eyes lingering for only a second, and then she flips to the next file in her stack.

“I mean it’s probably the sooner the better on both those fronts.”

“How do you figure?” He asks, reclaiming his screwdriver and she takes another sip of her coffee while doing some mental math.

“Well, I’m 38, which is kind of late in the game to start having kids but not like, unheard of. That aside the kid will take nine months, not to mention trying could take a few. I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of having a baby after 40 but that’s what we’re looking at. Plus every time we talk about kids there’s more than one so if we’re going that route we’re either adopting or we’re having them close together because I am not having a baby after 45. Sorry but I am drawing the line there.”

“Don’t worry” He snorts, unfazed by her long explanation. “I don't care if you have them or we adopt them but we are at least in the process of having the last of our kids by the time I’m 45, and technically I’m a year and five months older than you.”

“Hmm, technically you’re 26 years older than me.”

He glares at her, he always hates when she brings that up.

“What?” She asks, feigning innocence.

“Don’t say that.” He chides her, and she laughs.

“What??” She mocks, “I’m just saying-”

“You are not... You’re trying to make me sound gross.”

After that the conversation had kind of dissolved into a “fight” over which of them farts more in bed. He does, for the record.

Ok, she does, but she’s never admitting it.

“Yeah.” She says, “What about it?”

“I don't know.” He shrugs, “I was just thinking... when you said we should get started soon on some of that stuff... I mean my mom doesn’t work and a lot of her good friends are dead, and we’ve been thinking about telling her about time travel for awhile. I was just thinking maybe she could come with us to 2044, get a nice apartment in Seattle. The opposite side of Seattle from where we would live but-”

Zari laughs, cackles actually, and so Nate starts laughing too.

“What?” He asks, tightening his arm that’s been draped loosely around her. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” She says, “And I’m all for it, but the problem is if we live on the opposite side of the city from her that means we live on the same side as my parents, and there’s two of them.”

He shrugs, undeterred. “Then we live on one side of the city and put my mom on the side where your parents live, and that way all three of them can plot against us.”

She keeps laughing. She can just picture that. His mom and hers, meeting up on Saturday mornings for coffee or something else, talking about her and Nate and workshopping new ways to invade their privacy.

“Ok, that’s one problem solved. What about the second one?”

Nate shrugs again above her. “Depends.”

“On what?”

He looks down and meets her eyes, and suddenly she feels his hand worm it’s way into hers; something small, round, and metallic clutched inside.

“Will you marry me?”

#steelhacker #fic rec

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dailytomlinson · 5 years

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Stellar Magazine

It’s been nearly four years since One Direction went on “hiatus”. What do and don’t you miss? The buzz from writing a great song and sharing that experience together, doing the shows… I definitely miss that the most. I don’t not miss anything. Isn’t that nice? Oi, listen, other than Niall [Horan] farting on the tour bus – I definitely don’t miss that.

Fans would love to see you wear braces, headbands, sleeveless tees or red trousers again, like you did in your 1D days. Any chance it’ll happen?

What makes me laugh is they’re not mad on change, the fans. Whenever I start doing anything new they just ask for the old sh*t back. But listen, here’s one fact: I’ll never be seen in red trousers again; I’ll never f*cking wear a headband again. If I’m on holiday I might try to look hard so I’ll probably wear sleeveless tops again, but I am not going anywhere near them braces. Absolutely no chance. You call out tabloids and others on Twitter. Do you ever get grief for not biting your tongue? [Laughs.] I’ve

always enjoyed that. At the start of my career my people would say to me, “Come on Louis, don’t rise to it.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. A few times I’ve looked back and thought, “To be fair, I probably shouldn’t have replied.” But I can’t help it. If you’re going to chat sh*t at me, you’re going to get called out.

You have spoken about not feeling confident in your performances, but you recently played in Madrid and seemed at home on the stage. Do you feel you’ve regained some morale? The experience I originally had in the band early on, when I felt like I had to fight for my place, did knock my confidence, if I’m being honest. But it made me stronger as a person and as an artist. It forced me into songwriting. But I’m relieved I’ve come through it. I’ve proved to myself and to everyone that I can do it.

You leaked a snippet of a song called ‘We Made It’ to fans on Instagram back in February 2018. Oh yeah, you’re right! [Laughs.] F*cking hell, you’re bang on it. I like that. It’s a song I wrote about two and a half years ago. And lyrically it was kind of written as being a bit of a message between me and the fans… that we made it together.

Your album Walls will be out early next year. What can you tell us about it? My overall intention was to be honest as a lyricist. My fans already know a lot about me, but by the time they listen to the record, hopefully they’ll know a bit more. And there’s talk of a tour? What’s a no-brainer is I’ll definitely be coming to Australia. I think that’s going to be the middle of next year.

You’ve been here with the band before. What do you love about Australia? As a kid from the UK, Australia was one of the most exciting places to imagine travelling to. Every time we’ve been there we had loads of fun. The fans were amazing.

You said you were going to focus on writing what you love rather than chasing hits. Yeah, the easier option would be to make something like a Charlie Puth record, but they never felt true to me because it wasn’t the kind of music I grew up listening to. I had a little epiphany. I’ve done incredible things with 1D, so it was about time I focused on myself and do what I really want.

Pre-order Walls, the new album from Louis Tomlinson, out January 2020.

#press #walls #stellar magazine #louis tomlinson #121019

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louistomlinsoncouk · 5 years

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What Louis Tomlinson misses most about 1D

One Direction singer Louis Tomlinson opens up about calling out tabloids on Twitter, not making an “easy record” like Charlie Puth — and why you’ll never catch him in red trousers again.

It’s been nearly four years since One Direction went on “hiatus”. What do and don’t you miss? The buzz from writing a great song and sharing that experience together, doing the shows... I definitely miss that the most. I don’t not miss anything. Isn’t that nice? Oi, listen, other than Niall [Horan] farting on the tour bus — I definitely don’t miss that.

Fans would love to see you wear braces, headbands, sleeveless tees or red trousers again, like you did in your 1D days. Any chance it’ll happen? What makes me laugh is they’re not mad on change, the fans. Whenever I start doing anything new they just ask for the old sh*t back. But listen, here’s one fact: I’ll never be seen in red trousers again; I’ll never f*cking wear a headband again. If I’m on holiday I might try to look hard so I’ll probably wear sleeveless tops again, but I am not going anywhere near them braces. Absolutely no chance.

You call out tabloids and others on Twitter. Do you ever get grief for not biting your tongue? [Laughs.] I’ve always enjoyed that. At the start of my career my people would say to me, “Come on Louis, don’t rise to it.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. A few times I’ve looked back and thought, “To be fair, I probably shouldn’t have replied.” But I can’t help it. If you’re going to chat sh*t at me, you’re going to get called out.

And there’s talk of a tour? What’s a no-brainer is I’ll definitely be coming to Australia. I think that’s going to be the middle of next year.

Pre-order Walls, the new album from Louis Tomlinson, out January 2020.

#louis tomlinson #kill my mind promo #kmm: stellarmagau #12oct19 #here anon; i thought it was coming out later on but it was posted an hour ago

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 4 years

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The Prince and The Pauper Ch.2

The goal WAS to wait. I swear it was. However, I had most of this already typed up and couldn’t just leave it alone. So here it is!

Summary: James Barnes is a prince given everything. He can travel and explore, live a life unlike any other man, and he loves every moment. He can love any woman or man, come and go as he pleases, and gives an opinion on the politics of his kingdom. When the news of his arranged marriage comes about, James finds himself needing only a moment to get away. However, a moment can change everything. What happens when a man identical to James crosses paths with him in this moment of weakness? And what happens when James is forced to live as “Bucky” - a simple peasant whose kept under the stern watch of Clint Barton and his sister, Y/N?

Council meetings were a sight and sound similar to family gatherings. Almost no one got along. Everyone had their own agendas and opinions, often deeming themselves more right than whoever sat to their left or right. Making progress was all about forming the right alliances while also gaining steps in your own plans. And it was a bitter pill to endure such toxic environments.

“Tell me, what actions would you recommend for a prince that has no interest in marriage?”

“He has a duty,” argued a voice.

A third chimed in, “Duty without respect leads to consequences no one anticipates.”

More voices argued, overlapping one another as each man tried to prove their mind was the most brilliant. It was irritating to hear men try to kiss their own asses, but alas, it wasn’t something uncommon in Shield. Rebecca huffed in frustration, watching from the secret room just outside the conference hall. The grate allowed her to hear everything, see the backs of a couple of heads, and actually keep an understanding as to what was occurring within the palace walls. She never understood how James could be so trusting of their opinions. But then again -- he was a man. He was allowed to voice his own. He was actually encouraged to be heard.

Turning away from the grate, Rebecca pressed her back against cool stone and crossed her arms. She knew about Shield’s laws. She knew the flaws, the loopholes, every in and out that could possible be thrown in his face. Why didn’t he ask her for help with this whole arranged marriage? She knew why. Rebecca just didn’t want to admit that her brother was impossible stubborn and still a little close minded. She knew exactly the type of bride he needed and yet here he was, allowing court to choose that instead.

But wasn’t he supposed to be here?

Brow furrowing, Rebecca pushed herself off the wall and stepped up to the grate. James usually was on time to these sorts of meetings. Trying to see past annoying wigs and thick-headed, old farts, she was confused to see Brock standing in the center of the room. Why was he there? He wasn’t someone to be trusted.

“What are you up to,” she murmured, tilting her head and straining to get a better look.

“Might we wait for the prince’s arrival before discussing these matters?” Brock’s voice carried, silencing the arguments of others. They barely managed to hold their tongues before the door was opening again.

Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief when she caught the sight of familiar, short brown hair. At least he hadn’t completely abandoned his duties.

“My apologies for arriving late. There was some difficulty with my horse and the stable boy.”

She froze for a brief moment. That…that didn’t sound like James. Turning around, she craned her neck to hear a bit better. Was he getting sick? That wouldn’t look good for the arrival of their guests. But surely someone noticed, right? Someone would comment.

“We don’t need your excuses, Prince James.” That was the Grand Duke Fury. Rebecca remembered the times he taught her how to ride. He was a good man, though a bit impatient with foolishness. It seemed the older James got, the more Fury was under the impression that he was incredibly foolish.

“Nick, be nice. His Highness is facing a marriage proposal. I’m sure you were the same before marrying Maria.” Archduke Pierce. The sound of his voice made Rebecca’s skin crawl. He was two-faced, always putting on a show, but she had heard the stories from servants. How he treated the help was just as important to her as how he treated royalty. And that treatment was not the same. “When you couldn’t provide the name of a woman to marry, we assumed you hadn’t looked at the list we provided.”

She could just imagine James’s sheepish grin. “I had more pressing matters to attend to. Besides, I trusted the judgement of my council. That is what you are here for, correct?”

Rebecca straightened, fingers wrapping around the bronze bars of the grate. Was he mad? Openly admitting that he didn’t do his research? Handing them the upper hand in conversation? Oh, she would be giving him a piece of her mind later. That was certain.

“Your Highness, we’re your council,” Fury reminded. Sometimes she thanked her lucky stars that someone like him was around to keep an eye on James. Especially in moments like these. “But that doesn’t mean our purpose is to dictate the outcome of the kingdom’s future.”

“No, that would be the royal family’s,” another voice added. She vaguely remembered him -- Earl Cage. He was a good man, but she hadn’t seen him much since the Holiday incident. His permanent baldness had something to do with James’s pranks during his younger years. Since then, he was a great adviser, but didn’t exactly make himself join the family festivities.

“We feel that the next step for Shield’s future would be to join with K.G.B and marry one of the royal family’s many daughters.”

There was silence, but it was overwhelmed by the sound of Rebecca’s heart beating rapidly in her chest. James promised anyone but the K.G.B. He promised he would protect her and that an alliance with them was not in Shield’s best interest. Taking such steps back for the women of this kingdom would be a nightmare. “No, James…” She held her tongue, fighting every urge to barge in and give her own opinions to Pierce’s ridiculous “advice��. “James, say something, damn it.”

“Which daughter did you have in mind?”

“The K.G.B king and queen have offered their pride and joy, the eldest.”

“I’ve heard rumors of Natalia’s beauty and brilliance.” Every word James spoke cracked Rebecca’s heart a little more. “She’ll make a perfect queen for Shield.”

Rebecca refused to let tears fall. She didn’t bother paying attention to the meeting coming to a close, knowing full well that she had her own alliances within that room. For the moment, she needed to catch her breath and formulate a plan. James had betrayed her trust in the worst sort of way, something they had always refused. They had always chosen to support one another despite their disagreements. He wanted her to advance in the world even through his tormenting her as his ‘little sister’. The sinking pit in her stomach refused to leave as she exited the small room. She was supposed to figure out her next steps, but her mind refused to cooperate. All she could wonder was , what had happened to her brother? What had happened to James Barnes?

___________________________________________________________

Everything hurt. That was the only thing he could think about. Everything hurt. Especially his head. What happened to his head?

Bucky sat up. THe action caused blood to immediately rush, finding its way to its proper places and causing his vision to go black. Squeezing his eyes shut, Bucky shook his head and tried to clear away that irritating, pounding feeling. “What the hell,” he muttered, trying to piece together the events before he passed out.

Opening his eyes, he breathed a sigh of relief when his vision returned to normal. However, the sight around him wasn’t familiar. He was in a…a tent? Glancing at the sheets around his waist, he didn’t recall how he got here. None of this was familiar to him. And where did his shirt go?

He tossed the sheets aside and rose from the bed. His legs tingled, probably from lack of movement, and he was relieved to find that he still had pants on. But no boots? Glancing around, he grabbed a shirt that was draped over what looked to be furs. He pulled the garment over his head as he stepped outside. The light was blinding. He shielded his eyes with one hand, adjusting the borrowed shirt with the other. However, the relief from the sun was short lived as he stepped on a broken branch. He grunted, instinctively picking his foot up. The sight to behold from his stumbling and twisting was far more entertaining than he would probably ever care to know.

“Whoa! Easy there, big guy. We can’t all take a hit from someone your size.”

A hand found his back, helping him find his bearings. Bucky turned, wanting to thank the person. His brow furrowed as he tried to place the person. He wasn’t that tall. His scruffy blonde hair and impish smile showed a youthfulness that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “T-Thank you. I think.” Bucky took a step away, not appreciating the fact that he wasn’t sure where he was. Why didn’t he remember getting here?

“You look lost. Come on, Steve will be relieved to see that you’re finally awake.” Finally? Bucky watched the man walk ahead, still so lost and confused. The blonde looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You coming?”

“Who are you?”

He raised an eyebrow before smiling sheepishly. “That’d probably help, huh? Uh…Clint Barton. Now, you going to move those trunks you call legs?”

Bucky frowned at the comment, but still moved. It only took him two steps to catch up to this Clint man. The two walked past several tents of random shapes and sizes. Most looked on the edge of being utter shambles. A part of him wondered why people chose to live this way. Weren’t there castles around? Weren’t there kingdoms where they could seek refuge?

“You look so confused. Poor guy,” Clint muttered, amusement laced in his voice. How was this man so casual and at ease? Bucky couldn’t wrap his head around it. Everything had him on edge. He was noticing every little thing and this man acted as if he was freaking out. He couldn’t help that he noticed everything. It’s just…that he did. “Steve! Look who’s decided to join the land of the living.”

Steve. He remembered that name. Vaguely, but he did. Allowing himself to focus on the new faces, he was met by the blue-eyed gaze of yet another blonde. He was taller than himself, but about the same size. His face was familiar -- like that of the young boy he used to cross paths with in a village.

What was the name of that village?

Bucky jumped slightly when a pair of hands wrapped around him in an attempt at a hug. He kept his hands at his sides, not sure why Steve was hugging him. Unless…was he the boy from the village?

“You look better than you did,” Steve told him, taking a step back when he realized how confused Bucky was. “Jeez, the last time I saw you, we were just two idiot kids trying to make names for ourselves.”

Bucky remembered that. He remembered the idiotic stunts they used to pull and shook his head. “Been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I never would have expected to see your face here.”

Bucky looked around at the trees. They were so empty, cold and practically forgotten. The fog that lingered in the air reminded him of a fire. Was that what happened here? A fire that the forest never quite healed from? Looking back at Steve, his voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, “What happened?”

“One of Hydra’s members.” A new voice. It was oddly familiar.

Bucky glanced over Steve’s shoulder, recognizing the eyes of the woman that had spoken. She had been staring down at him…Then she had looked concerned, scared even. Now? None of those emotions were there. Clint went and hugged her, ruffling her hair and earning a laugh. For some reason, the sight made Bucky’s heart beat a little faster. She looked happy even in the middle of such a dismal place. How strong did a person have to be to be capable of experiencing life in such a way?

“Buck?” The sound of his nickname caught Bucky’s attention. He looked back at Steve, trying to keep himself from blushing at the idea of staring. Steve chuckled and shook his head. “I can see what kind of man you’ve grown into.”

Bucky didn’t comment. Instead, he looked to Steve and told him, “Something happened in those woods, Steve. I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember why I was there or who found me before you did.”

“Hydra gives their men these ridiculous code names to refer themselves as. It’s to maintain some sort of level of anonymity. That being said, Scarlet Witch was the one we found you with. She studies magic and…” Steve hesitated, not sure what else to say.

Bucky watched him, jaw clenching when he thought about what the woman possibly could have done to him. “Steve, now isn’t the time to hide things. I’m already fucked as it is.”

Steve scratched the back of his neck, knowing Bucky was right. It was just a matter of finding the right words. “Because of the tricks that the Scarlet Witch is known for, Y/N believes she did something to your memories.”

He frowned, his heart dropping to his stomach at the very idea. Someone…someone took his memories? His gaze shifted back to Y/N, wondering how she knew that. And if this was the case - what was stolen from him? Was that why he didn’t recognize Steve? Did he have a family? Was he married? If there was anyone who knew about his disappearance, were they looking for him?

Steve noticed the panic in Bucky’s eyes and clasped his hands on either of his shoulders. “Buck, breathe. We’re going to figure this out together. I promise, we’ll restore your memories.”

Bucky finally met his gaze. The fear was so vivid in his stormy blues, making Steve even more worried for him. “Steve --”

“I promise.”

There was no room for argument. He knew he would have to believe in Steve. It might have been years since the pair had crossed paths, but he believed Steve was right. He believed Steve would do everything he could to get Bucky’s memories and get him home.

“I --” He sighed. “Where do we start?”

---

Tag List:

Prince and the Pauper:

@hail-ey-sader @broco8 @chook007

All Work:

@rinthehufflepuff @the-captain-bambooty @kakakatey

If you want to be tagged, just let me know!

#bucky barnes #prince!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky #james Buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #barton!reader

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thetravelerwrites · 5 years

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A Day Off (Lemon) Human-Tiefling-Tabaxi

Rating: Lemon Relationship: Female Tabaxi/Male Human/Fem-Intersex Tiefling Additional Tags: Exophilia, Tabaxi, Tiefling, Intersex, Poly Relationship Content Warnings: Babies, Children, Kids, Pregnancy, Fatherhood, Birth Words: 3960

Another fun commission from @ocsmutpocalypse! With a festival coming up, Reverence is overworked. Ebert and Rings devised a plan to give her some time off and much needed rest and relaxation. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

The Festival of Bounty was a few weeks away and was Fysy’s most important holiday, aside from Fysy’s Benevolence, which was in spring. It represented not just a fruitfulness of the harvest and of children, but also a deeper understanding of one’s heart, soul, and spirit. A sowing of the inner self and a harvest of spiritual awareness, so to speak.

In fact, on the day itself, it was common practice to abstain from any sexual release in order for the next “seeding” to be that much more potent when planted. Some often chose to wait the whole month prior to the celebrations. Since the harvest festival took place on the first day of autumn, it wasn’t uncommon for there to be a slew of births at the end of spring the following year.

Reverence was the town’s leader, of course, but for the most part, the town ran itself. Very little supervision was needed beyond the odd bar tussle. People governed themselves, and arguments that couldn’t be settled between the parties involved were brought to Reverence and a select council of trusted townspeople. Otherwise, Reverence kept to the temple.

The festivals were the only times she was one hundred percent in charge, and Ebert had never seen her this… frazzled. Between decorations, food, preparing the sermon for the evening, writing the blessing for the feast, planning children’s activities, and coordinating the dancers and musicians, Reverence was looking a little… fried.

“No, no, no,” She said, waving at one of the four people surrounding her with different things. “Harvest colors! Orange, deep red, dark greens. Bright colors are for spring. Just like always, Tera.”

“I’m just saying, we should put a pop of color in the decor!” Tera was saying, talking over the other three vying for Reverence’s attention. “Harvest colors are so dull and drab. Just a little bit of pink would liven it up.”

“Tera,” Reverence said dangerously. “Harvest colors. I’m tired having this argument every year. If you can’t follow the directions, I’ll put someone else in charge. Traditions are traditions for a reason.”

Tera stormed off with a groan, and another person took her place with another issue that needed addressing right fucking now, apparently. Ebert and Rings were sitting on the porch of Reverence’s house, drinking tea and watching all of this happen.

“Is it always like this?” Ebert asked. He’d only been a member of the town for a little over a year, and had been gone with Rings during last year’s festivals, both Bounty and Benevolence.

“Oh, you should have been here three years ago,” Rings replied, watching it all with an air of enjoying the show. “I thought she was literally, literally, going to unhinge her jaw and bite Tera’s head off.”

“Oh, I’d pay to see that,” Ebert joked, sipping from his teacup. “Tera keeps telling me I dress like a hobo.”

“You do dress like a hobo,” Rings replied, eating a slice of cured sausage.

“True, but she does it really need to be said aloud?”

Rings snickered.

Ethrik was at Ebert’s feet, playing with a toy centaur and babbling in his baby tongue, oblivious to the tension in the air emanating like the waves of an angry tide from his mother. Ebert had spent a lot of time with Ethrik since he had been home, forming a very strong bond with his son.

“You have plenty of money now,” Rings continued. “Why don’t you just buy new clothes?”

“I dislike merchants,” Ebert said, watching Reverence sighed in aggravation when another person handed her some papers to go over. “They don’t care if it actually fits or looks good, they’re just trying to make a profit. And tailors are worse. They fuss about fabrics and embellishments. Pfft. It’s too much hassle. I always buy my clothes secondhand. It may not be pretty, but it keeps me warm and I’m not naked, which is good enough for me, so it should be good enough for everyone. A rag on a string is better than having my business out on full display.”

“Rag on a string, you say?” Rings said, looking at Ebert with a distant expression and smirking.

“Don’t start with me, it’s too early,” Ebert said.

“It’s evening!”

“Any time of the day is too early to deal with your shit, Rings,” Ebert quipped.

“You like it,” She replied, grinning so that every single one of her sharp teeth were visible.

“Why don’t you help her?” Ebert said, watching Reverence rub her temples in exasperation.

“Pfft,” Rings scoffed. “Do I look like the event planner type? I wouldn’t even go to this thing if it wasn’t for the free food. I’m not exactly the religious type, if you hadn’t figured it out yet.”

“Neither am I,” Ebert replied. “But she is our lover. We should do something to help her.”

“So why don’t you help her?” She asked snidely.

“I’m watching Ethrik,” Ebert said with a sniff.

“Yeah, literally anyone in town could do that. He’s the town’s kid as much as he is yours.”

Ebert snorted and picked up his son, who squealed happily. “Yes, perhaps, but I want to watch him. I’ve grown rather fond of the little thing, oddly enough.”

Ebert meant that, too. It wasn’t typical of his family to form attachments, most especially to other family. So his affection for his son was something he hadn’t expected to happen, and he was rather surprised and delighted by it.

“Bleh,” Rings retorted, sticking out her tongue in disgust. “If I ever say I want kids, put me in the nut house because I’ve gone crazy.”

“They’re not so bad,” Ebert said, holding his son up high and making fart noises. Ethrik giggled happily.

“Says the person who’ll never know the misery of carrying one of the little crotch goblins in his body,” Rings said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ebert said, nose-nuzzling Ethrik and sitting the little boy in his lap. “Still, I feel like we should do something for Reverence, even if it’s not helping with the festival. Has she ever had a massage? Like, a real one, not just one that led directly to sex?”

“How would I know?” Rings said, picking her teeth.

“Do you pay attention to anything that doesn’t involve you directly?” Ebert asked sardonically.

“Should I?”

Ebert shook his head. “You’re a jewel, Rings.”

She smiled. “I know,” She said in a sing-song voice.

“But really. I think I may have Spring take Ethrik tonight. Reverence needs some kind of help. Help that doesn’t involve dealing with… them.” He pointed at the gaggle of people surrounding Reverence as she walked back to the temple.

“A day off would be nice,” Rings said. “We could lie and tell people she’s sick tomorrow.”

“That’s a good idea,” Ebert said. “Spend the day pampering her. I should buy a few things, if that’s the case.”

“You do that, I’ll clean up the house a bit,” Rings said.

“Look at you, doing something nice,” Ebert said, picking up Ethrik’s bag and his cane with one hand.

“Meh. Don’t get used to it.” Rings disappeared into the house and Ebert went to see Spring about sitting Ethrik for a couple of days.

Reverence came back to her home later that night and collapsed onto the bed face-down.

“I love this town, I really do,” She said, muffled by the bedding. “But it’s times like these that make me want to dig a hole and hide in it for the rest of the month.”

Ebert smirked. “Trust me, both Rings and I totally understand that.”

“Hell, Spring, Ebert, and you are the only reason I stay in this town at all,” Rings said.

Reverence was so exhausted that she hadn’t noticed the candles, incense, and the mulled wine stacked on the table. Ebert had bought massage oils, lotions, hoof polish, the works. He and Rings were planning a day of pampering Reverence had never experienced before.

“Are you hungry, love?” Ebert asked.

“Not especially,” Reverence mumbled. “Where’s Ethrik?”

“Staying with my sister tonight,” Rings replied.

“Oh, good,” She said, her many eyes closed. “I want to sleep for a week.”

Ebert and Rings crawled into bed with her. “Sleep then,” Ebert said. “Tomorrow will be brighter. You’ll see.”

“If you say so,” She said, already half-asleep. But the time Rings and Ebert got comfortable, Reverence’s breathing was slow and even, and she was dead to the world.

The next morning, the three of them awoke to banging on the door. Reverence groaned and made to get up, but Rings stopped her.

“I got this, you rest,” She said. She went to the door and opened it, facing the crowd of people needing Reverence’s stamp of approval. “Listen up, you leeches. Reverence is sick. She’s staying in bed today. If any of you try and bother her while she’s resting, I will personally bite your dick off. Or whatever you’ve got that would hurt a lot. Now fuck off!” And with that, she slammed the door.

“What?” Reverence said, sitting up. “I’m not sick--”

Ebert covered her mouth. “Shh! Not so loud. We’re buying you a day off.”

Reverence removed his hand. “A day off?”

“Yes,” Rings said as she made her way back to the bed. “We got candles and food and wine and oils and rosewater and we are going to spoil the shit out of you today.”

“Part of me knows I should go out there and do my job,” Reverence said, rubbing her neck. “But, by Fysy, that sounds amazing. How can I say no?”

“Don’t,” Ebert said, bending forward to kiss her. Rings ran her claws gently up and down Reverence’s back, making her shiver.

“So what did you have planned?” Reverence asked.

“Spa day,” Rings said, kneading Reverence’s shoulders. “Ebert and I are going to wash you, then he is going to massage oils into your skin while I wash your hair and file your hooves for you.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Reverence moaned.

“Then when your dry and smooth, I’m thinking naked breakfast in bed and lounging for a while.” Ebert said.

“Lounging sounds incredible,” She sighed.

“Well, you lay here and stay comfortable and I’ll heat some water for your bath,” Ebert said. “Rings, keep her warm.”

“Happily,” Rings said, kissing down Reverence’s neck.

“Hey, don’t get ahead of yourselves,” Ebert said, moving the cauldron of water over the fire. “We’ve got all day to enjoy each other.”

“Spoilsport,” Rings said, rubbing up and down on Reverence’s torso as Reverence snugged in deeper to the bed, enjoying the attention.

After water was heated and transferred into the tub, Reverence climbed into the water, moaning with deep satisfaction as the hot water unknotted the muscles in her body.

“Feel good?”

“Mmmm,” Was all she could manage to say. Ebert got the scented soap and scrubbed her body down gently as Rings carefully washed Reverence’s face and antlers, careful not to get soap in her many eyes. Once she was clean, Rings and Ebert let her soak a little longer while they set up breakfast and the massage area. There was a wide bench she could lay on as Ebert worked on her body, and she could hang her head down for Rings to wash her hair.

Once everything was ready, Rings and Ebert helped Reverence out of the tub and onto the bench, laying her on her back with her head over the end.

Rings took a bottle of sweet smelling hair rinse that had melon oils and honeysuckle dew, and drew it carefully through Reverence’s thick hair. Ebert took a bottle of sweet almond oil and lathered his hands up, starting at Reverences ankles and working his way up slowly. Reverence groaned and whimpered appreciatively as he worked up over her calves, her thighs, and her hips while purposefully ignoring between her legs. They’d get to that later.

He rubbed the oils into her belly and breasts, over her shoulders, and down her arms to her hands, working the oils into her skin.

“Rings, are you finished with her hair?” Ebert asked.

“I’ve just finished combing it out,” She said.

“Good. Reverence, can you turn over?”

“I’ll try,” She said, smiling a little.

Ebert and Rings helped her stand, and then lay back down on her stomach.

“Rings, you start at the bottom, I’ll come down from the top, and we’ll meet in the middle.”

Rings nodded and dripped some oils into her hands. Minutes turned to hours, and the three of them were lost in the motion of the hands moving along skin.

When the oil was well worked into the skin, Ebert took a towel and dried her while Rings helped her sit up.

Apparently, the massage had done much to improve her mood, because when she got up, her phallus was standing straight up. Rings began to stroke it as she gently patted Reverence’s hair with a towel.

“Let’s move to the bed,” Ebert suggested.

“Good idea,” Rings agreed. Rings and Ebert both took one of Reverence’s hands and lay her down on the bed. She stretched out and looked up at the two of them with a smile. Rings stripped off her clothes and undressed Ebert as well, and the two of them got on the bed. Rings took Reverence’s member in her mouth while Ebert opened Reverence’s legs and pressed his lips to the slit underneath. Reverence’s breath hitched and she moaned blissfully.

Ebert pressed two fingers inside her and kissed her thighs, nipping with his teeth and massaging with his free hand.

“Oh, gods, I could get used to this,” She breathed. “Usually as priestess of Fysy, it’s my job to make sure my patrons are well satisfied even if I am not, but I’ve never had this kind of attention before. It’s intoxicating.”

“Considering how much you give of yourself to this town, you’re well overdue for some worship yourself,” Ebert said.

“That almost sounds blasphemous,” Reverence said with a smirk.

“I guess we’re all sinners today,” Rings said, her tongue playing with the tip of Reverence’s length.

“Fysy is a forgiving goddess, thankfully,” Reverence laughed.

“Good,” Rings said as she pulled herself up and swung a leg over Reverence’s body, nearly kicking Ebert in the face, and straddled Reverence’s waist. “We’re going to make you feel like you’ve transcended and reached godhood yourself.”

Reverence grabbed Rings’ hips as she slowly lowered herself down onto Reverence’s cock, gasping as she was stretched open. Ebert moved around to suck at Reverences breasts, still continuing to move his fingers in and out of her.

Rings and Reverence were moaning and breathing hard, Rings bouncing faster against Reverence’s body. Reverence reached down and took Ebert’s length in her hand, stroking it slowly.

“Rings,” Reverence gasped. “Lean forward a little, give Ebert some room.”

Rings nodded and complied wordlessly, and Ebert took his place between Reverence’s legs, easing his cock inside her as Rings rode Reverence hard.

“Match Rings,” Reverence groaned. Ebert had no time to work up to it, instead he rammed himself into Reverence at the same frenetic pace that Rings was thrusting down upon her, matching the rhythm. It was intense and mind-blowing, and the three of them were making more noise than they had intended, but it couldn’t be helped. They were in a primal state, unable to stop.

“Oh, fuck,” Rings hissed. “I’m going to cum.”

“So am I,” Reverence breathed. “Unless you want to get pregnant, you better hop off.”

Rings jumped off like Reverence had the plague, and Ebert stroked Reverence until she came with Rings rubbing herself to completion next to her.

Ebert slowed to a stop as Reverence was coming down.

“Didn’t you finish?” Reverence asked.

“No,” Ebert said, cleaning her up. “But I’m not worried. We have all day after all.”

Now came breakfast in bed, naked, and it was wonderful. Reverence was relaxed and laughing for the first time in weeks. Ebert was happy to see the smile on her face. The three of them lay on the bed, eating and talking, when another knock at the door startled them.

“I’ll handle it,” Ebert said. He pulled on his trousers and a shirt and opened the door a crack. Tera stood there, looking incensed.

“I need to talk to Reverence,” She said.

“Reverence isn’t feeling well and is taking the day off. Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow,” Ebert said.

“Please, I know she’s not sick! I could hear you, you know! Half the town could! She’s avoiding me.”

“Yes, and she has a good reason to, doesn’t she?” Ebert said, coming out and shutting the door. “She has told you over and over how to do it, and you keep ignoring her. Why exactly is that?”

“Because she won’t listen to reason!” Tera said. “Harvest colors are boring! It’s the same thing every year! Why not change it up a little!”

“I don’t give a shit if it’s boring, Tera!” Ebert said. “No one does, except you! Do it the way you were told and shut the fuck up! Leave Reverence alone, or I swear to god, I will curse your hands so that everything you touch turns shit brown, you understand me?”

Tera looked both pissed and scared. She turned on her heel and walked away quick-step.Sighing and rolling his eyes, Ebert went back into the house.

“All good?” Reverence asked.

“Yep,” Ebert said, returning to the bed and kissing Reverence deeply. “You won’t have to worry about Tera anymore. This year, at least.”

Reverence laughed in relief. “That’s a miracle. Now if you could do that with everyone else.”

“Sorry, I can only threaten to curse so many people before they start calling me on it,” Ebert replied, smiling.

They took a nap together, then ate a leisurely lunch. The house smelled of flowers and fruit and fresh bread. The three of them talked about anything and everything. It was strange, as if the cottage had been enclosed in a bubble and that the three of them were the only one in existence at that time. It was an odd bonding experience that the three of them had never felt before. More intimate than sex could ever have been.

As evening fell, the three of them were relaxed and content. Reverence was stroking Ebert to attention again, and Rings was kissing Ebert’s chest.

“What’s this, all of a sudden?” Ebert said, curious, but not complaining.

“I want to thank the two of you for my nice day off,” Reverence said, poking Ebert onto his back and straddling him. She thrust him into her with a gasp, and bent down to kiss him. She then pulled Rings to her with Rings’ back to her front. As she moved back and forth, her length thrust in and out between Rings’ legs, rubbing her pearl with each motion.

“Oh gods,” Ebert groaned.

It didn’t take long for all three of them to be a moaning mess again. Rings came first, snarling and spitting, then Ebert inside of Reverence. Reverence came last all over Ebert’s stomach and chest. The three of them collapsed on top of each other, heedless of the mess they’d made.

“I think I need another bath,” Reverence breathed, and the three of them laughed.

The festival went off without a hitch. The whole day was a testament to Reverence’s patience and even-temper. The children had a blast, the food was amazing, and the games for the adults had everyone rolling in laughter.

Reverence led the dancers that evening, moving like a gazelle across the stage that had been built. They dances were swift and full of color and vivaciousness. It amazed Ebert that she could move like that without smacking someone with her antlers, but she did it like she been doing it her whole life. That may have been the case.

That evening, after the dancing and before the great feast, Reverence stood at the top step of the temple and asked for quiet.

“The first day of harvest is a day of contemplation. It is a day to take in all the glory that Fysy has bestowed upon us. Blessings of food, fortune, health, and of course, the next generation.” She looked fondly at all the children seated at the great table with their parents, lingering over Ethrik in Ebert’s lap. “Today we give thanks as we reap the benefits of her love and tenderness. From her, we exist. For her, we thrive. Without her, we despair and die. We are fortunate and grateful. Humbled, I would ask for a moment of silence, so that we may all contemplate our own blessings received in this past year and thank the one who gave them to us.”

Ebert knew she meant Fysy, but really, the people who gave him his blessings was the glorious woman standing gracefully at the base of the temple, and the firey woman sitting next to him, already picking from the tray in front of her. And the little boy in his lap, who taught him what is was to love.

“Now, let us take into ourselves the bounty. Let the Feast of Fysy begin!”

There was cheering from the crowd, and a lot of noise as everyone filled their plates. Reverence came to sit on Ebert’s other side and took Ethrik from him.

“This festival has actually run much more smoothly than the ones before,” She remarked.

“I wonder why,” Ebert said. “Maybe that day off helped clear your head.”

“I have no doubt it did,” She replied. “Remind me to schedule one during every festival’s preparation.”

Rings and Ebert laughed.

At the end of the festival, there were fireworks. Ethrik was delighted by them and laughed hysterically with each big BOOM! With Rings on his left side, Reverence on his right, and his son in his lap, it really did feel like a family. A real family, something Ebert had never had.

He took Rings’ hand, rested his head on Reverence’s shoulder, and smiled. “Reverence?” He asked.

“Hmm?” She answered.

“How would you feel about making a little sister for Ethrik?”

He could feel her smile. “Tonight? Midnight?”

“Sounds great to me.”

“Urgh,” Rings said. “I’m staying with Spring tonight.”

“Take Ethrik with you. We might be at it for a few days,” Ebert said.

“In that case, I’ll drop off the kid and go one town over. There’s a girl there who looks like she needs learning in the ways of Fysy.”

“You’re not religious,” Ebert said snidely.

“I am when it suits me,” Rings said. “And I think she’ll suit me nicely.”

Reverence was pregnant before the end of the month. This time, Ebert was ecstatic and couldn’t wait for the birth.

“Calm down, Ebert,” She told him when he learned she was pregnant. “I’ve done this a dozen times by now.”

“I know, but this is only my second, and I was scared shitless for the first one.”

“You’re not scared this time?” Reverence asked.

“Oh, gods, I’m terrified. But I know I can be a good dad now, and I can’t wait for Ethrik to have a sibling who will actually love him.”

“Ethrik has many siblings, Ebert,” Reverence reminded him.

“I know… but… this feels different for me,” Ebert said. “My family might as well have been complete strangers. I’ve never felt what having a real family is like. It’s… amazing.”

Reverence hugged him. “Oh, Ebert. I’m so glad you’ve come here. Family is so important and I’m glad you found it here.”

Rings was there, watching the two of them distantly, until Ebert snatched her up and pulled her into the hug too.

Buttons looked over the scene from her perch on a wardrobe and yawned.

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