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#chicken feed making machine
hermmachinery · 2 months
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3-4T/H Chicken Feed Mill Plant for Our United Arab Emirates Customer
The poultry industry in the United Arab Emirates (UAE) holds significant importance within the country's livestock sector, primarily aimed at meeting the domestic demand for chicken meat and eggs. Poultry farming is typically categorized into two main types: broiler farming and egg-laying chicken farming.
In terms of broiler farming, chicken meat production in the UAE heavily relies on poultry farms equipped with modern facilities and management systems to ensure the growth and health of chickens. These farms vary in scale, ranging from small to large operations, and utilize various farming methods, including free-range and cage systems.
Regarding egg-laying chicken farming, the UAE also boasts a considerable number of egg production farms. These farms are dedicated to producing high-quality eggs to meet the domestic demand for egg products. Similar to chicken meat production, these farms often employ modern farming equipment and management techniques to enhance both yield and quality.
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It's worth noting that the poultry industry in the UAE faces challenges due to the country's climate conditions and limited water resources. Challenges include the impact of high temperatures and arid environments on chicken growth, as well as issues related to feed and water supply. Therefore, the government and poultry industry stakeholders typically implement measures such as providing technical support, improving feed formulations, and enhancing water resource management to promote the sustainable development of the poultry industry.
Firstly, we opted for a high-performance feed grinder. This equipment efficiently grinds raw material particles into the desired powdered form, ensuring uniformity and digestibility of the feed. Subsequently, we introduced an advanced feed mixer capable of thoroughly blending different types and proportions of raw materials, ensuring nutritional balance and consistency in the feed. Additionally, we selected an efficient feed pelletizer capable of compressing the blended feed materials into uniform, visually appealing pellets, thereby enhancing the quality and stability of the feed.
To safeguard the quality of the feed pellets, we specifically chose an integrated feed cooling and sieving device. This equipment effectively cools and sifts the feed pellets during the production process, ensuring that they meet standardized appearance and texture requirements. Furthermore, to facilitate the client's sales and storage processes, we equipped the production line with an efficient feed packaging machine capable of packaging the feed pellets according to customer specifications, enhancing the overall efficiency of the production line.
In addition to the primary equipment, we provided the client with a range of auxiliary equipment, including electrical control panels, boilers, air compressors, and storage silos, to ensure the smooth operation of the entire production process. During the shipping phase, we implemented stringent quality control measures to ensure that all equipment was dispatched in optimal condition. To maximize cargo protection, we custom-designed packaging and protection measures suitable for container shipping, minimizing the risk of damage or loss during transit.
We are delighted to learn that the client has successfully received all goods and has expressed exceptionally high praise for the quality, performance, and reliability of our equipment. Their endorsement has earned our factory immense trust and acclaim. We remain committed to maintaining a close partnership with the client, continually optimizing our products and services, and making a greater contribution to the development of the feed production industry.
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Henan Herm Machinery Co., Ltd was established in 2010 and has been devoted to the research and development of Feed Mill Machinery ever since. With more than 10 years of experience, Herm® has become a leading manufacturer and supplier of animal feed machines and complete animal feed production lines, cattle feed plants, poultry feed plants, animal feed pellet production lines, etc. It always endeavored to improve the quality of products and aims to meet the new requirements of the international market. 
If You Are Ready to Start a Feed Pellet Plant Business, please contact us for the feed mill machine. We Can Provide Professional Design and Comprehensive Guidance According to Your Needs. Get in touch with us now!
Welcome Contact Us!
Henan Herm Machinery Co., Ltd
Whatsapp: 0086 18037508651
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westkisswigs · 2 years
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Breeding technology of laying hens
1. Create a suitable living environment for laying hens
In order to make laying hens produce more eggs, it is necessary to create a suitable growth and egg-laying environment for the chickens as much as possible, and to take corresponding supporting feeding and management measures according to the changing laws of different seasons. In the high temperature and high humidity season in summer, attention should be paid to preventing heatstroke and cooling, strengthening ventilation in the house, maintaining a dry environment, providing sufficient and clean drinking water to the chickens, and appropriately increasing the feeding amount of green vegetables to improve the feeding ability of chickens . In winter, special attention should be paid to the cold protection and heat preservation of the chicken house and artificial supplementary lighting. The temperature in the house should be maintained above 13 ℃, the light should be 15-16 hours, and the drinking water should be properly warmed, and ice water should not be drunk.
So if you have a chicken farm, you can try the chicken feed pellet machine which can help you make the pellet.
2. Pay attention to saving feed
The biggest expense of raising chickens is feed, which accounts for more than 70% of the total cost of raising chickens. Improper feeding and management will inevitably lead to a large amount of waste of feed. The measures to reduce feed waste are: First, the installation height, depth and length of the feed trough should be exchanged according to the different weeks of age and cage density of laying hens, and the amount of feed added should not exceed 1/3 of the depth of the trough. It is necessary to feed less frequently, reduce the leftover food in the tank, and determine the daily feed amount based on the egg production rate. Generally, when the egg production rate is 50%-60%, the daily feeding amount of each chicken is about 95-100 grams, and the egg production rate is about 95-100 grams.
When the egg production rate is 60%-70%, the daily feeding amount is 105-110 grams, when the egg production rate is 70%, the daily feeding amount of the chicken is 115-120 grams, and when the egg production rate reaches more than 80%, the feed is not limited, let the chickens Eat ad libitum. The second is to cut the beak. Because chickens have the habit of slicing, therefore, chicks should be decapitated at 7-9 days of age. At around 15 weeks of age, beak trimming is required for those with poor beak trimming. Thirdly, promptly eliminate non-laying hens or chickens with poor egg-laying performance. At the end of breeding, when it is transferred to the laying house, a culling should be carried out. Those who are stunted, too small, too fat, sick, and lethargic should be eliminated. In the process of laying eggs, brooding chickens, sick chickens, disabled chickens, and discontinued chickens should be eliminated at any time. In the late stage of laying eggs, the chickens that are out of production are mainly eliminated, and hens with crests, pale faces, and shrinking crests should be eliminated immediately. Chickens that are found to be too fat or too thin should also be eliminated immediately.
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3.The reasons for the decline in egg production
Environmental factors: changes in light program or light intensity: such as changing the color of light at any time, suddenly stopping light, shortening the light time, weakening the light intensity, irregular light time, long and short, early and late, suddenly light and suddenly stopped, evening Forgetting to turn off the lights etc. There is a serious lack of ventilation, and there is no ventilation for a long time. Attack of natural severe weather: A sudden attack by a heat wave, typhoon or cold snap without preparation or prevention in advance. Long-term water cutoff: The water supply system fails or forgot to turn on the switch, resulting in insufficient water supply or water cutoff for a long time.
Feed Factors: Significant changes in feed composition or quality issues in the diet can cause changes in egg production. For example, the types of raw materials in the diet suddenly change, the feed is not evenly stirred, the feed is moldy and deteriorated, the replacement of fish meal and yeast powder, the high salt content, the high amount of stone powder added, the replacement of cooked bean cakes with raw bean cakes, and forgetting to add salt in the feed, etc. Reduce the feed intake of chickens, causing indigestion. The egg production rate is normal, and the weight of the chicken does not decrease, indicating that the amount of feed and the nutritional standards provided meet the physiological needs of the chicken, and there is no need to change the feed formula.
Flock sickness: Acute and chronic infectious diseases can cause a sudden drop in egg production in a flock. If chickens are attacked by virulent Newcastle disease, egg production often decreases by more than 50%; infection with egg reduction syndrome can reduce egg production rate by 20% to 40%, such as mixed infection with other diseases, egg production rate decreases by 20% above. In addition, the infection of flocks with infectious bronchitis, infectious laryngotracheitis, cholera, coccidiosis, colibacillosis, avian influenza, etc. will greatly reduce the egg production rate.
4. Disease prevention work
Reducing dead chickens and preventing the occurrence of epidemics is the key to the success or failure of raising chickens. According to the scientific hygienic and epidemic prevention procedures for controlling the occurrence of chicken diseases, various vaccines should be injected according to the age of different chickens. At the same time, the chicken house and utensils should be regularly disinfected with drugs, and the feces in the house should be removed in time. mice, to prevent mice and sparrows from entering the house and bringing the epidemic. In order to reduce the chance of the spread of the epidemic, the entry and exit of people should be reduced as much as possible, strangers are not allowed to enter the chicken house, and visitors are refused to ensure the safe operation of the chicken farm.
Hope you can go to learn about the lima feed machine.
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hedgehog-moss · 4 months
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Ant lovers, this is not the post for you, I'm sorry.
I have a big anthill in the worst location, between my house and the greenhouse, so that the ants are invading me on two different fronts! Over the past two months or so I've tried a lot of methods to make the ants feel unwelcome, from the humane Earth Mother approach to more aggressive ones, but nothing worked. Flooding them with water. Then boiling water. Dish soap. Vinegar. Diatomaceous earth, which usually solves just about every problem. The ants did not care. I tried asking, then suggesting, then bargaining, then insisting, then threatening, then
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Sorry, ants. You should have taken my threats seriously.
I meant to wait until everything was fully consumed before extinguishing the fire, but then I realised I was out of dog food (when you buy one of these 20kg bags of kibble you always feel like it'll never run out and then it does in the most unexpected and untimely manner, every time). I had time to pop by the store before it closed, and by this point the fire was just a few embers left at the bottom of the tragic moon crater that used to be a magnificent ant palace. You can see my chickens keeping an eye on it from above:
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I fully trust my chickens but still, before I left I went to tell the carpenter working in my barn today that I've been burning an anthill, the fire is almost out but could he glance out the window every now and then while I'm in town, and maybe go and throw a bucket of water if he sees my house engulfed in flames? I'm just going on a quick, half-hour errand.
He agreed, so I left.
I ran into the librarian at the grocery shop, who of course invited me over for a cup of tea. It's genuinely impossible to say no to such offers—I mean, you say no and then you end up at the librarian's house having tea anyway. You'd think the possibility of my house and llamas going up in flames if I don't go home to monitor the embers would be a foolproof excuse to get out of a tea invitation, but there are no excuses. The librarian wanted me to taste the giant cookie she baked and she wanted to talk about something stupid our president said or did recently and I had no choice but to follow her.
But it's okay, the carpenter and the hens are on top of the situation!
Still, I felt antsy (sorry) as I sat in the librarian's kitchen and watched her feed Pandolf cookie crumbs. (She had some crumbs set aside for her own dog, but her dog is tiny and scared of Pandolf so she remained at the other end of the kitchen, intensely interested in the unattainable cookie crumbs, mentally willing Pandolf to disappear from her kitchen, vibrating with despair, the picture of anguish.)
I tried to use Pandolf as a pretext to cut my visit short, but I had zero cooperation from my traitor dog. "We've been gone a while, he probably needs to pee!"
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The librarian asked me about the carpentry stuff going on in my barn right now and I didn't want to start a whole new conversation which would inevitably lead to half a dozen anecdotes about construction work, when I'd already had such trouble wrapping up the let's-trash-talk-Macron conversation (it's not that I don't want to trash talk Macron. But my house was burning, maybe.)
I tried to point out again that my house was probably ashes by now and the librarian said serenely, "Well, your carpenter will feel obligated to hurry up and finish the job much faster if you have no house anymore and must move into the barn."
I agreed that there's an upside to everything, but still. I had to go.
Just as I was leaving the librarian's house, I saw the carpenter's car entering town. I waved at him and he stopped and opened the window and told me everything was going well, and I said, "And the fire? It must be out by now."
"What fire?"
He had absolutely not checked the fire. (He was standing next to a noisy machine when I made my request so it's possible he didn't hear me well and figured I was checking on his work and just went "Yeah, all good!") (I'm trying to be fair)
And yes, okay, it was just a few embers at the bottom of a pit with heavy, wet winter earth all around, but I'm a pessimist so I threw Pandolf into my car and drove home at full speed. For some reason what I pictured during this quick, worried drive home was ant payback. A long line of determined ants stretching from their ravaged anthill to my house, each one of them carrying a tiny burning twig. I don't think two chickens would be enough to suppress that.
When I reached my dirt road, I couldn't see my house from afar but could see a plume of smoke in the middle of the woods. It looked pretty small, but still, I was relieved when I got closer and found that the smoke rose from the exact location of the anthill and nowhere else.
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I'd taken precautions, like wetting the earth around the pit and choosing a day when some rain was expected in the evening, but a lot of forces conspired to ensure the embers were left unattended, from a forgetful (or confused) carpenter to Pandolf's love of cookie crumbs and the librarian's inescapable friendliness. (She whatsapped me to ask if my house was on fire and I said (jokingly) no, but no thanks to you!! And she was a bit contrite and said, it's Macron :( we spent too long on this topic... And I said no I know, of course I blame Macron and she sent me a handshake emoji)
The ants were not in an avenging mood btw, they were teeming around the crater looking quite defeated, it made me sad. (But I hope they're defeated.) I didn't throw my bucket of water over it straight away because I was a bit fascinated by the inside of the anthill, from up close it looked like the Mines of Moria.
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I crouched down next to the ants and we wordlessly watched the last embers slowly die as night fell over the pasture. It was very atmospheric until Pirlouit started braying with absolute fury because it was almost dark and his evening hay was still nowhere to be seen.
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illubean · 2 months
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can i request headcanons of any hxh characters your choice (preferably including illumi, chrollo, and/or feitan) with a crush on/unestablished relationship with a gender neutral reader who refuses to fully align themselves with anyone but has an incredibly OP ability that requires their blood or body (can shoot blood in like spikes, detach their limbs to chase down and drag back runners, use their blood and/or tears to heal wounds, can just regrow lost limbs including their head, ect.) that would make being on their bad side more trouble then it's worth
so every fight they kind of /have/ to get injured to use it. Plus their ability weirdly doesn't seem to use nen (chrollo can't copy it and gyo doesn't show anything, ect.)
and when they're finally asked about it they're casually like "oh yeah, I'm not human. I was actually created to be an unstoppable force that infects and destroys humanity, but that's honestly too much work. Plus you give me snacks so I'd rather just hit whoever you tell me to." and their reactions to the fact this insanely overpowered goober they've fallen for is a stray shapeshifting little abomination who could have murdered the entire human race and that they're lowkey lucky reader likes getting bribed them so much
(Sorry if that's too long btw, I thought you'd like the idea but I couldn't think of a better way to condense it 😅)
HXH With an Unaligned!OP!Reader
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Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader
i do not like how this came out but posting anyways lol...
Warnings: mentions of blood, experimentation and violence, reader isn't human if that counts as a warning
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Illumi Zoldyck
the way you met Illumi was... not ideal to say the least
he was on a job to kill some scientist guy but little did he know scientist guy had quite literally created a monster
the day he was going to do his mission happened to be the day your power was finally realized
annnndddd Illumi walked in on you killing scientist guy and literally everyone else who worked for him
you had managed to pop your arms off and launch them like missiles, turn your blood into weapons and spikes around the room and also not die????? and grow your limbs back???????????
the weird part was Illumi couldn't sense any of your aura at all
he just assumed you were a super advanced nen user and were able to still keep up hatsu really well while fighting
which led him to the conclusion that he should either A. run away or B. try and get you on his side
when you noticed him just standing there you turned to stare at him like come at me bitch
"So? Are you here to poke me with more needles like the others? It won't end very well." "Actually I was here for the guy in the lab coat, but it seems like you did the job for me."
realizing he wasn't a threat (or trying to be because you know...you cant die) you let down your guard down
you ended up just following him around after that, not really having anywhere else to go so Illumi decided on plan B
turns out it took a lot less manipulating than he thought
he brought you to the estate and you agreed to help him with whatever for a popeyes chicken sandwich
watching how you wandered around the estate aimlessly and lounged about Illumi quickly realized you only use your abilities when threatened or bribed
so you become his personal little treat fueled killing machine
he takes you on missions with him because he doesn't trust you alone at the estate...
eventually he asks you about how your hatsu is so good and you're like wtf is that
and he's like What.
you tell him you we're pretty much created in that lab and they did all these tests and stuff and you didn't even really know how or why you had the power you did but you found out you did the day you met
and you were all like "they were so annoying and they told me to do stuff for free, I'd never kill you though you feed me :3"
he is so glad you are clueless and he got to you before anyone else because you could take over the entire world if you really wanted to
he is going to marry you ASAP
but again, you being clueless did not understand what marriage entails
and you agreed for the same reasons you agreed to literally anything else this man has asked of you
you are Illumi's most prized possession and no matter how freaky you are, he really does cherish you as normal people would their spouse
Chrollo Lucilfer
running into you on a heist was definitely unexpected
especially since you looked like you just got out of captivity
mistaking him for an enemy you shot your fist off at him and barely missed
and he was like woah im not an opp dw
then your hand grows back and hes like !?
he asked why you were there you explain that you were some sort of war weapon yada yada yada the guys got annoying you killed them and yeah
and Chrollo offers you to come back w him and the troupe and you're like sure if you feed me
so after the heist is over Chrollo takes you back to Phantom Troupe hq and then talks with the gang blah blah blah dismisses everyone and then takes you to wherever the hell and buys you whatever you want to eat
and while you're stuffing your face bro is like
"Your powers are pretty impressive. Mind telling me how they work?"
and not caring you tell him, mainly focused on your meal
and he's like huh what a useful ability time to steal it
one thing leads to another and he somehow gets you to touch his weird book and when he flips to where your nen should be the page is blank and he is insanely confused
and hes like "Why didn't my nen ability work on you?"
and you're like wtf is nen
and hes like oh my god I don't think this thing is human
so he asks
and you're like "I literally told you I'm a war weapon. A weapon created for war, but that's too much work."
now he is confused but also intrigued
he offers for you to join the troupe and you're like
"But being in a gang is so much wooorrrkkkkkuuuuhhhh"
you can literally destroy man kind but you don't because you're LAZY!?
you're not officially part of the troupe but you're practically an honorary member because you follow Chrollo around after your first encounter
and he decides it 's better than nothing
Feitan Portor
I can't think of a clever way for you guys to meet LMAO
umm uhhh idk maybe you were created to take out the chimera ants and happened to get deployed in meteor city the same time the troupe was hunting down the 'queen'
so when the troupe got there you were already fighting some ants
you look human enough but your abilities make Feitan think you might not be
soooo he tries attacking you before he ended up getting to the lizzard ant crocodile lady thing i don't remember what she was
and he couldn't beat you and you're like wtf do you want from me I'm trying to do my job
and hes like ??? you're not an ant?
and youre like no
and hes like oh and leaves you alone
then he throws the entire sun at the ant lady and leaves the building
he kinda forgot about you until he felts something lift the back of his cloak
and he's like !!?!?!??!
and he looks behind him to see you crawled under his coat and took the snacks he hides under there for himself
and he's like what the fuck
how did you even know he had those???? (you could smell it because you have super enhanced everything)
ok i just remembered his cloak got destroyed in this scene but pretend it didn't
anyways he snatches the bottom of it away from you and tries taking the snacks back out of your hands but you are quick to dodge
he's irritated but he just lets you have them he's too tired to deal with this
you end up following him after this like a lost puppy and the rest of the troupe is like ??????
but they can't get rid of you
and on the way out of meteor city you were like yap yap yap weapon yap yap created in a lab yap yap yap immortal
feitan could not care less about what you had to say but he was like ??? to the immortal thing
maybe you weren't a bad thing to keep around
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astroboots · 11 months
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EVERY YOU EVERY ME #10
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COLLABORATED WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader
Summary: Miguel tries to rob a superhero and you try to stop him.
Word count: 5,750
Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist
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It’s another mundane morning in your office. You’re hiding away in your cubicle with your breakfast croissant and coffee, scrolling the news on your phone. 
Ever since the cosmic murder attempts have started, reading news hasn't been the same for you. It’s no longer a case of innocently keeping up to date with current events. Because now you can’t read the sensationalist headlines without a small pang of guilt that you may have been the unwilling root cause for so many of them. 
‘Apocalyptic blizzard in August.’ 
‘Stampede escape from Brooklyn zoo.’ 
‘Freak electric storm causes wide city blackout’. 
It’s all just too macabre for you this early, it’s not even 10am. Your eyes flicker down, only skimming to make sure that there has been no casualties involved with each incident before scrolling away again. Then you opt for the technology section instead. Hoping it is a little bit less catastrophic and kinder on your nerves. 
‘Tony Stark’s Arc Reactor Returns Home to Stark Tower.’
Your fingers pause at the headline. Stark always makes for a good read and good gossip, you think to yourself as you take another sip from your morning coffee and start to read:
‘Tony Stark, the notorious billionaire philanthropist and avid Star Wars memorabilia collector, has announced his decision to move his iconic arc reactor back to his home in New York City. The self-sustaining fusion power source kept Stark alive during the infamous hostage incident where he was captured and detained in Afghanistan by the Ten Rings terrorist organization’.
‘Self-sustaining fusion power source…’ you repeat the phrase in your head, parsing over the words. Why does that sound so familiar to you? 
You read it again, and this time instead of your own voice, the memory of Miguel’s sleep husked voice fills your ears: 
“Your world is not technically advanced enough for me to build an upgraded self-sustaining fusion power source that would be needed.” 
Adrenaline buzzes bright in your brain, and you stand up from your desk so fast you nearly knock over your chair.
Finally! It’s the Eureka moment you have been waiting for all this time. 
You peer over the cubicle wall, scanning the room for Miguel. It doesn’t take you long at all to spot him; his oversized frame is hard to miss. Besides, even if you couldn’t see him, you’d be able to sense the anger vibrating off of him a mile away. 
In the corner at the far end of the open-plan office, Miguel is abusing the poor printer again. He’s cramming a fistful of papers into the feeding slot like it’s a duck he’s trying to force feed to make foie gras, and judging from the vein straining on his forehead, the man is about two seconds from lifting the 50 pound machine and launching it out through one of the building’s windows.
You shake your head at the scene. You don't understand how someone so smart, so intelligent, so apt with technology—he built an A.I. so advanced it would make the most high tech of Stark Industry's prototypes look like a kindergartener's chicken scrawl—can be so inept when it comes to dealing with a basic printer. 
“Miguel,” you whisper loudly, and despite the fact that he’s on the other side of a bustling office, he immediately turns to look at you. 
You beckon him over, practically bouncing with excitement as you wait for him to cross the room, and as soon as he’s within reach, you stand on the tip of your toes and cup a hand around his ear so you can covertly whisper the news of your discovery. 
“Stark has an arc reactor.”
You’re beaming with pride that you’ve found a solution to your dilemma, and look up at Miguel expectantly for him to celebrate with you and maybe even praise you. 
Instead, he looks down at you without reaction. “What’s Stark?” 
"Wait, are you serious?" 
You almost think he’s doing one of his sarcastic comedic bits with you, but the angle of his right eyebrow, raised in cluelessness tells you otherwise.
"How do you know so much about Dr. Strange, but not know who Tony Stark is? He’s like the main Avenger."
Miguel merely shrugs at you. "Avengers aren't really a thing where I'm from."
You shove your phone into his hand and watch as his eyes flicker over the screen, reading through the article in a matter of a few seconds. When he’s done, he places the phone back on your desk, then grabs your left hand, leaning down as he lifts it up towards him. For a second you think he’s about to kiss your hand.
"Lyla," Miguel announces, and the watch buzzes warmly against your wrist as Lyla's hologram reforms in the small space above.
"Give me the layout of the Stark Tower, identify vulnerabilities in the security system and outline the most optimal entrance points for a break-in."
Did he just say break-in?
"Wait, wait,” you interrupt quickly, trying to defuse the situation, before he gets too far ahead of himself. “Miguel, we are NOT breaking into the Stark Tower."
"How else would we do it?"
“We could just talk to him.  Lyla can hack into his schedule and book us a meeting with him, right?”
“And then what?”
“We’d ask him to help us?” you suggest, not understanding why he skipped straight over the most obvious answer and went right to breaking and entering. Though from the way Miguel is staring at you in blank confusion you may as well have spontaneously grown horns on your head. 
“...Nicely,” you add, in case that wasn’t already clear.
“Because that would require us to talk to him. He would just say no, Cielito. I’d prefer to break in. Cleaner that way. More efficient. Easier.”
You can’t believe this man just admitted to being so socially awkward he thinks committing a felony is easier than having to hold a conversation with a stranger. 
"Asking is pointless. No scientist is just going to hand over something like an arc reactor to a couple of strangers because they asked nicely. Besides, even if we arrange a meeting with him by hacking into his calendar, he’ll know something is up the moment he sees us. You’ll just wind up getting thrown out by security.”
Ok maybe he has a point there. 
"What if we tricked him? Made him think we have something he wants?”
"Like what?"
"Stark collects rare Star Wars collectibles. We can lie and say we're collectors with a rare piece to sell like the Kenner Star Wars Boba Fett prototype?"
His right brow raises at a skeptical angle and he’s staring at you like you’re speaking a foreign language. 
"Cielo, that's insane."
You bristle at that. 
"How is your idea any better?" you demand.
"A break-in wouldn't require much effort or rely on the goodwill or stupidity of someone else. It’s much easier–"
“You’re talking about breaking into the personal home of an Avenger!” you interrupt because you’re not listening to any more of his madness, “He’s arguably the smartest member of a team made up of the mightiest heroes on Earth, and you want to try to steal from him, Miguel!? That is not easier!”
The office has gone alarmingly quiet around you. You look around to see that your heated discussion is gaining unwarranted attention from the rest of the office. All of a sudden, the endless click and clack of the keyboards stop. 
You give your curious coworkers a strained smile, then lean up close to Miguel again, muttering under your breath. “We’ll discuss this when we get home.”
Miguel doesn’t say anything else, but you can feel his eyes pinned to your back as you walk to your chair and sit back down at your desk to finish your croissant in two mouthfuls, chugging down the remainder of your coffee. 
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An hour before noon, Miguel comes to your cubicle. He sets down a lunchbox and from the logo on the plastic grocery bag you can tell that it’s from your favorite Bodega round the corner. 
“I have a quick errand to run for work at lunch. I’ll be back within the hour,” Miguel tells you, “Lyla will guard you, and if something happens she’ll alert me immediately. Don’t go anywhere.”
You look up from your screen to see him stand over your desk with that passive expression etched onto his stoic face, as if there is nothing out of the ordinary. 
In the last month, Miguel hasn’t let you out of his sight for longer than a handful of minutes (primarily to get more snacks when they run out).
Miguel thinks he’s being so slick. It’s insulting to your intelligence that he thinks you don’t know what he is up to: he’s obviously going to spend his lunch hour trying to rob Tony Stark. 
But that’s fine, you’re not going to openly question Miguel on his suspicious behavior. If he’s not here that means you are free to get up to whatever you want. 
… Including approaching a certain multibillionaire that has the one item in his possession that could save both your life and the universe as you know it from collapsing.  
It’s why you wave at him as he makes his way to the exit and pay close attention to him leaving through the front glass door and take the elevator down to the ground floor. Then for good measure you wait another five minutes to make sure that he will fully be out of hearing range with his super-senses before you raise your wrist to your face. 
“Lyla,” you whisper. 
“Hello, boss girl! Wasssuuuup,” she greets, elongating the word sassily for comedic effect, and you can’t help but smile. 
Lyla, as entertaining as she is, is an enigma to you. You don’t understand how Miguel with his short patience-span and entirely lacking sense of humor would have programmed this A.I. to have this kind of personality. Not to mention a deep archive of a millenial’s pop-culture media reference from this dimension.  
“What can I do you for?” Lyla asks, shooting you gun-fingers with a cheeky flare. 
You part your mouth, but hesitate to make the request. 
This is illegal isn’t it? Hacking into someone’s calendar to arrange a meeting with them under false pretenses. God, what if you get taken away in handcuffs within the first 30 seconds of entering the building, featured on Deuxmoi as a crazy stalker fan. 
So far the only “illegal” thing you’ve used Lyla for is to generate Netflix passwords and hack into HBO Max to watch Succession. This is a significant next level step. 
Maybe you should run downstairs and catch Miguel before he leaves the building? You could plead your case again. Try to reason with him that breaking and entering isn’t the way to go about it and the two of you should approach Tony Stark by having a mature and adult conversation. 
Yeah. Right. You snort even as you think it. Miguel is never going to be persuaded on this point and you are quickly running out of time. There’s only one thing to do: 
“Lyla, can you please arrange a lunchtime meeting for me with Tony Stark today.”
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The lobby of Stark Tower is much like any other commercial buildings you’d find in the Financial District. Heck, it's not that much different from the one you navigate every morning at the Chrysler building. If anything, the only surprise is how ordinary the Stark Tower is.
When you enter the main lobby, you have to sign in with a stern but clearly bored security guard, then use the guest security pass you’re given in order to access the elevators.
Once you reach the 90th floor, there is a distinct lack of staff up there. Only a single, sweet-looking old man, with a well trimmed mustache above his upper lip. He's swathed in a soft-knitted cardigan and wearing gigantic vintage-styled sunglasses indoors that make him appear bug-eyed as he peers up at you and walks with you to another set of elevators using a retinal scan for security and sends you on your way. 
The door closes around you in the metal box, with a swift jump to the 91st floor.
When the door finally slides open it feels like you’ve entered another world. Minimalistic opulence is the keyword for it. There are windows along the entire space. A 360 view of the New York landscape and you almost feel like you are at an Aquarium with the amount of glass surrounding you. There’s pieces of half-built tech and prototypes everywhere. Imagine having so much money that you can allocate a whole floor of a manhattan skyscraper to essentially be your garage workshop. 
“So you’re my 1pm that magically appeared today,” a happy-go-lucky voice sings out. 
You jump in your skin, breaking your concentration from the view, as you turn around to see the infamous man of the hour standing behind you. 
“Gotta say, when I was envisioning the sort of person who might be selling me a Kenner Star Boba Fett figure, I did not imagine a gorgeous knock-out,” he says, with an outstretched hand as he greets you.  
Tony Stark is shorter in real life. Less formal than in the gettymarked photos you’ve seen of him at red carpet events and fancy galas, dressed up in the most tailored fit suits that money can possibly buy. He’s also a lot more charming than in photos. All big brown eyes, and pouty lips. He might be half the size of Miguel, but Tony Stark has more than enough charm and confidence to make up for it
“Let’s go somewhere we can talk.” 
He is quick witted banter and dazzling diamond smiles as he shows you the residential suite of the Stark Tower. His hand rests on the side of your waist as he guides you through the long hall, making strong eye contact all the while down the hall. 91 floors up and you cannot hear a hint of the chaotic traffic noise downstairs, it’s oddly quiet save for the faint scratching noises you hear from the ceiling. (Guess even Stark towers cannot escape the city’s rodent issues). 
“Anyone ever told you, your eyes really sparkle?” Stark says, as his hand slips from your shoulder to rest at the small of your back. “You’ve got this whole Disney princess thing going on. I dig it.” 
Wait, is he flirting with you?
Tony Stark, Chief Executive Officer of Stark Industries. One of the top 20 richest men in America (according to Forbes). A man who can afford to buy the whole of planet Mars is flirting with you. 
God, you are already seeing dollar signs. Lobster. Caviar. All the rare exotic and poisonous puffer fish sushi you've only dreamed of eating. You've always wanted to be a gold digger, you've just never been close enough to a gold mine.
Maybe this will be easier than you thought. If he likes you, maybe you can just flirt your way into getting the arc reactor. Ask him to lend it to you. 
The two of you make your way past the glass doors and into another imposing large room, bare and minimalistic. Oddly, it feels dimly lit, given the size of the windows in the room. 
It’s the size of the front lobby of your office building, and you realize halfway through that this room serves no other purpose except to store more of his junk. There are half built machines piled up in every corner. Boxes and boxes of tools haphazardly strewn across the room. It’s an outrageous waste of prime New York real estate that speaks to the man’s wealth. 
In the middle of the room, there’s a silver medal that glows an eerie blue in the middle, encased in a display case. With the way it sparkles, you could almost mistake it for a precious aquamarine gemstone the size of your fist. 
“Wow, is that the arc reactor?” you ask. 
Stark doesn’t answer. Suddenly his chattiness is nowhere to be found, and as you turn to look at him you notice he’s not paying any attention to you. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling behind you. 
You whip your head around and follow his gaze to see the familiar blue super-suit trailing behind you. The unmissable angry red spider embellished across his wide chest, as he hangs upside down like a cat burglar. 
Has he been trailing behind you since you got here? Was that what the noises were?  
Air whizzes through the space and the force of it reverberates across your cheek. A piece of red armor flies through the air and attaches itself to Stark’s arm. 
You’ve seen enough highlight reels of Iron Man on the news channel to know what it means. 
“Wait wait wait,” you shout out as you step in front of Stark in mid-transformation. 
You fling your hands up high in a gesture of a white flag to de-escalate the situation. “This isn’t what it looks like!”
Stark’s eyebrow quirks up, tipping his head sardonically. "So your costumed sidekick hasn't been stalking us this entire time? Breaking and entering, not just into my tower–which is private property, by the way–but also bypassing security to access my private office? Yeah, I'm sure your intentions are entirely on the level."
Despite the sarcastic hostility in his tone Stark hasn’t summoned the rest of the armor. The rest of his iron suit is suspended in the air on standby two feet away. He’s only got the arm piece strapped to his arm as insurance and is clearly willing to give you at least a few seconds of a benefit of a doubt. Long enough to hopefully explain yourself and not start a Superhero brawl.  
“He’s not dangerous,” you say, and the moment you say it, you want to kick yourself because of how suspicious that makes you sound. 
You turn your head around to Miguel who’s done an aerial somersault with the grace of a ballerina despite his build and soundlessly landed back onto his feet on the ground. 
“I can’t believe you went behind my back! We agreed to put a pin in this and wait to deal with Stark until we agreed on a plan. You said you weren’t going to break in!”
His masked eyes narrow into accusing slits, “Yeah? And what are you doing here then?” 
“Stopping you before you do something stupid!” you hiss. 
Before Miguel has a chance to retort, there is a loud clap from behind you that redirects both your attentions to Stark. 
“Jarvis, how did our lovely Disney princess make it onto my calendar and how did Hulk Spiderman over here manage to slip past every layer of your security net?”
The voice of a posh British man sounds out across the room but there’s no person attached to it. 
“I can find no record of these events in my logs. Performing internal diagnostics now, Sir.”
“Huh, interesting…” Tony hums to himself in consideration before he turns his attention back to you both. 
“I have to say I'm quite impressed, but I’m hoping for an explanation. Is this a Bonny and Clyde situation? You two lovebirds here to rob me?”
“No!” you both shout in unison. 
“Not lovebirds, got it.”
“That’s not–” Miguel starts, whipping down his head in your direction. 
At the sight of your face, he seems too flustered to continue his train of thought and he quickly looks away from you. “None of your business,” he snaps at Stark. 
You don’t know why, but that dismissive glance from him hurts. Like the very idea that you two would be in a romantic relationship is off-putting to him. It’s kind of insulting. You turn from him, trying to ignore the sharp stabbing ache somewhere in your chest that makes it hard to breathe. 
From across, Stark observes the two of you, whatever he sees makes him tip his head in curiosity. The intense pinch between his brow relaxes and the subtle shift in his expression is like witnessing the moment a shark senses blood in the water, then he grins and turns his attention towards you.
Stark grins, turning his attention towards you. "So you're single then?" 
You peer up at Miguel and hesitate because that’s a damned good question. You of this dimension is certainly single, but there’s another version of you (a dead one) that’s married to the man next to you. 
But that’s not you. 
You turn to Stark, "Yes," you answer.
Miguel whips his head to you, eyes wide. "No!" he bellows. 
"The lady says she is, big blue."
"And I say she's not!" Miguel growls, the last word ends on such loud volume it could break the sound barrier.
Miguel isn’t the best at reading cues. You’ve known Tony Stark for all of five minutes, and even you can tell that the man enjoys riling up people, Miguel is feeding right into that. 
Stark acts like Miguel is speaking at a decibel that he is unable to register. He saunters up to you, with the most carefree gait you’ve seen anyone carry around Miguel. 
"So are you free tonight?" Stark asks.
You spot Miguel’s bristling expression and hesitate for a second time. 
It’s mean, you shouldn’t rile Miguel up like this. His entire back is curved up like a hissing cat. The man looks like he’s about to blow a casket, acting like a jealous spouse. And somehow under Tony Stark’s attention you feel like you are the adulterous wife. 
Except once again, you’re not. Because you are not Miguel’s wife. 
… Why exactly are you pining after a man still grieving his dead ex-wife who happens to look like you? 
You're currently homeless. Your take-home salary as an insurance adjuster can’t afford you a new apartment in New York, not with the rising inflation and the current state of this economy. This is your highway express ticket to the charmed life of being a billionaire ex-wife. 
Bye bye to 9 to 5’s and having to manually enter data into thousands of excel sheets everyday. Jeff Bezos' former wife, Mackenzie Bezos was awarded 25% of their Amazon shares valued at over 38 billion dollars. Stark is twice as rich as that.
You slide closer to Stark. "Maybe? Where are you gonna take me? Somewhere fancy?"
"Yeah, no! Absolutely not!" Miguel interjects. 
He steps forward to drag you behind him, until his mountainous body blocks you from the man. 
“We need the arc reactor.” Miguel announces brusquely, with no fanfare and even less by way of explanation. “If you won’t give it to us, I’ll just have to take it.”
“What do you need it for?” Stark asks curiously. 
“That’s none of your business,” is the blunt reply. 
Stark tilts up his head, gaze pinned to Miguel’s mask. “You know, I’m not really minded to give away proprietary technology to a man wearing a wrestling mask in broad daylight.” 
There’s a stalemate between the two men as they stare each other down (or up in Stark’s case). The showdown is silent, you can practically feel the tumbleweeds rolling by, waiting to see who’s going to draw first. 
“He can take his mask off,” you interject. 
At your offer, Miguel’s eyes narrow, nose turning up in the air in a put off gesture, refusing to do as he’s told. 
“Mig,” you warn, and despite the clear scowl etched onto the features of his mask, this time, he complies. 
The blue and red fabric recedes into nothingness, until the fierce cut of his bare jawline is revealed. Eyes glowing an angry crimson. 
The scowl on Miguel's face is so ferocious, you can see his fangs in clear view. But instead of scary. Instead of intimidating. He looks... almost cute. All you see in front of you is a teething puppy with no real bite. He's harmless.
Stark makes a low whistling sound at the dramatic reveal of Miguel’s face. “Didn’t expect the fifth member of One Direction under there.” 
Miguel glares at the man, even though you know fully well that he doesn’t understand the pop-culture reference that’s being made. 
“So let’s take this from the top,” Stark says, and he starts to pace the length of the room until he reaches the arc reactor and gives the display case a light smack like he’s tapping the rear of a mare. 
“You need my arc reactor, but you won’t tell me why, and you’re not offering me anything in return, except for El Tigre over here not trying to kill me, is that about right?”
“What’s your price?” Miguel asks, voice in that low growling tone that always precedes a threat. 
“I’m a multi-billionaire, cash doesn’t really interest me, and I can’t exactly have this fall into the wrong hands.”
“We’re not bad people, and we’re not going to use it for anything nefarious. I know this sounds absolutely nuts, but we need your arc reactor to save the world,” you say. 
Stark chuckles at you, the way an adult would at a naive child. “That’s not really much to go on hon, you’re gonna have to give me more than that.” 
“Wong, the Sorcerer Supreme, he can vouch for us.”  
Stark considers you for a moment then tilts his head to take an appraising look of Miguel, eyes dragging from the sole of his suit-clad heels and up to his neck where the suit ends. 
“The unstable molecule fabric you have for the suit is interesting. I’ve been meaning to give my suit an upgrade, and having it disappear into thin air would be convenient. Wouldn’t have to constantly lug around 2,000 pounds of metal everywhere I go with me. Hand me a sample of the tech along with full intellectual property rights and we’ll talk.”
“No.” Miguel says. 
He straightens up his posture and crosses his arms over his chest with a haughty expression on his face. “My suit is technologically superior to all the technology you’ve got in this building combined. It’s a bum deal. Your arc reactor has palladium in it and would be poisonous for long term use. It’s practically defunct and I only need it for a one time use.”
God, this man really doesn’t know how to endear himself to anyone does he. 
“He doesn’t mean that,” you step in. 
“Well if it’s practically defunct, I wouldn’t want to pawn this junk off on you,” Stark responds, throwing up his hands in feigned defeat. “Besides, it has sentimental value to me. Not sure I’m willing to just give this away to some random guy who broke into my house.”
Miguel’s lip twitches in irritation until you see another flash of those fangs like they’re itching to sink into Stark’s throat. 
That only seems to entertain Stark further. “Look, you clearly need this reactor for something big, and for some reason you’re not able to build it yourself even with your advanced tech on display here. You’re obviously in a hurry, and in a desperate situation. Desperate enough to break in, and you know the saying: beggar’s can’t be choosers. I wouldn’t be much of a businessman if I didn’t take advantage of that.”
Miguel narrows his eyes, glancing around at the electronic equipment stored in the corner of the room. “I need you to throw in the laser scalpel along with the 3d printer and genetic sequencer,” he says, cocking his head in its direction. 
“Wow, toots, your boyfriend has real expensive taste,” Stark teases. 
Your cheek warms at the term boyfriend, but you don’t correct him. 
Neither does Miguel. Instead Miguel looks him squarely in the eyes and juts up his chin. “I want the Sonic disruptor too.”
“Fine,” Stark announces, holding up his hand in the gesture of a time-out to stop Miguel from listing out more expensive items. “You drive a hard bargain, Blue, but what the hell. It’s a deal. I’ll even give you a newer palladium-free model of the reactor so I can keep old sparky here for myself.” 
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The sun is setting against the skyline of the city, washing it in strokes of warm amber-orange hues. Miguel is still grumbling next to you as the two of you stroll along the Brooklyn bridge. 
“Supergenius, Ha! Si los zombies comen cerebros, él sería invisible para ellos. What do you see in that guy anyway?! He’s not even good looking. He’s like what? 5 feet tall? He was wearing built in heels, you know! Es más corto que las mangas de un chaleco–”
"Can you pipe down?” you say, cutting off his tirade, “Just let it go, please. It's been hours! I didn’t see anything in him. I have no desire to be the next notch on Tony Stark's bedpost.” 
That finally seems to end his rant, or at the very least slow it down. Miguel shuts his mouth, staring out over the river. “Then why did you tell him you were free?”
“Because I wanted the arc reactor! I figured letting the guy flirt with me might help. Catching flies with honey and all that.”
He folds his arms over his chest, with a skeptical furrow in his brows. “You wanted him to take you somewhere fancy; that’s what you said,” he points out. 
Damn him and his super-genius memory. 
“Well, maybe I also wanted to eat at a Michelin star restaurant one time in my life. Manila Social Club is supposed to have a golden donut made with champagne jelly and actual gold on their dessert menu. 
“That doesn’t even sound tasty,” Miguel mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. His mouth settles into an unhappy frown. 
“It would have been if I didn’t have to pay for it!”
“I could’ve gotten it for you,” he says, and it’s not until you take a better look at his face that you realize it’s not so much as a frown he’s sporting. It’s a pout.  
Oh, is he… ? He is, isn’t he!
“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know. I’m not interested in Tony Stark,” you reassure him. 
In front of you, the rigidness in his shoulder seems to melt at your words.
That surprises you. You’d have expected him to deny the accusation that he’s jealous. Adamantly object that he wasn’t, and why would he be, you’re nobody to him. Just a random stranger that happens to look like his wife that he cannot leave well enough alone. 
He doesn’t do that though. Instead, his only response is a quiet, “Okay.” 
His docileness takes you by surprise. 
Is he admitting that he was jealous? 
You'd be lying to yourself if you said that you didn't take even a morsel of enjoyment in the comical way that Miguel is getting himself riled up over you. To have him flustered and openly jealous of Tony Stark flirting with you. 
As if Miguel had anything to worry about. 
As if Tony Stark, a man who has ‘philandering philanthropist’ as a description for himself on his twitter bio, isn't known to be so indiscriminately flirtatious he’d eagerly court a voluptuously shaped tree. 
As if that man of 5 foot 6 (with platform shoes) would ever hope to occupy every one of your thoughts the way Miguel does.
Immature and childish and inane as your behavior back at Stark Tower was—and you feel mildly ashamed of it now—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it in the moment. Not because Tony Stark, multi-billionaire, GQ's Most Eligible Bachelor five years running, was flirting with you. 
No. Because for a moment you got to experience what it was like to have your rude protective Spiderman treat you as his girlfriend. Someone he was possessive of. Someone he treasures. Someone that is his. Instead of your current reality, where you know he belongs to someone else entirely.
“If anyone has anything to be jealous of, don’t you think it should be me?” you say, the words slipping out of your mouth before you can reign them back in. 
Miguel tilts his head, regarding you like a cute, confused pup, so you continue. 
"Because I could never compete with her, right?" 
"Her?" he asks, seeming genuinely puzzled.
"Your version of me," you say, "your Nena." You try to smile, try to keep it light-hearted, like the funny joke you had meant it to be, but it hurts even just to hear yourself say it. Because you know it's not a joke. 
It's true. You’re in love with a man whose affections aren't yours to win.
Miguel stops in his tracks, and that makes you stop as well. 
"It's not a competition," he says seriously. "You're two different people. You can't compare like that.” 
You feel like you’re being scolded and probably rightly so. You’re being childish and unreasonably trying to compare yourself to his dead wife. But that doesn’t mean that it makes it hurt any less to hear you don’t compare at all. Your heart fissures and cracks, and  the first sting of tears starts to well up behind your eyes. 
"You're important to me too," he continues. 
The words stop your heart, your eyes dart up to his face. The look on his face is gentle and soft, and it soothes the pain in your chest away, a gentle warmth rising to take its place. 
“Oh,” you say. You can’t help but smile up at him, squinting against the bright sun behind his back. 
“You’re important to me too,” you tell him.  
His lips quirk up into a small but genuine smile at your response. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” 
You nod, and then you have to turn away, feeling bashful under his attentive gaze. Embarrassed heat prickles your cheeks, and you need a second to catch your breath and let the evening breeze cool you down. 
There are cyclists and pedestrians going past you as the two of you continue to walk in silence. You sneak a look at him to see that, like you, he’s turned away. He’s gazing out over the bridge as he walks and against the amber sun, you see a faint flush riding high on his cheeks. 
Your fingers lightly brush against the side of his hand, and he turns back to you and smiles, sliding his pinkie to hook around yours. 
You walk all the way home this way, heart feeling full, and you think to yourself that maybe, this time, things really are going to be okay after all. 
~ Next issue
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Author's note: So for fellow marvelheads checking, wouldn't Tony be dead after Endgame when Wong was made Supreme Sorcerer? This is another version of earth -- Thanos and the snap never happened. My baby Tony isn't dead how dare you!
The Spanish in this chapter has been left untranslated on purpose, so that it’s left ambiguous whether reader speak/understand Spanish. The idea is that if you as a reader understand it, then so does the reader, and vice versa 🥰
Dedication & Credits: To @guruan for her incredibly kind help and donating her time to check the Spanish used in this chapter.
And to the kind @forwantofwill and her generosity for doing this beautiful fanart of Miguel Folding Origami that has stolen my heart!!
And finally to @thirstworldproblemss I love you and hope you're eating all the yummy sukiyaki that you deserve. Thank you for coming with me on this wild ride.
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llamagoddessofficial · 11 months
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Have you ever done an au where the boys are farmers? :]
I did once before, but hey. Nothing wrong with more farm. And as a certified country bumpkin who has lived/worked on many a farm in her life, I feel I'm uniquely qualified for this au ;)
It makes sense that all three boys would work on the same self-sustaning farm. 'Cousins' taking care of the same land, and everything. Maybe Mc is the cute girl who lives nearby and finds herself taking up odd jobs for them every now and then, for some spare cash...?
Sans: ... Mc bumps into him a lot, whether she's helping out on the farm or just passing by their fields on her way to somewhere else. He's always friendly, always greets her- always smiling up at her from under his goofy straw hat and telling terrible farm-related jokes so he can grin at her laughter. She can usually spot him napping in a field somewhere; when she asks what he's doing he always says he's 'working'.
To be fair to him, what he's 'working' on is always complete to perfection. All the hay around him has been baled despite no machines in sight, all the vegetables have been pulled and packed into their boxes, all the dirt has been tilled in perfect straight lines. She's got no clue how he does it.
If she's ever working with him (say, they're packing fruit together) he's always trying to encourage her to flunk it and nap with him. He knows all the best resting spots in a mile radius... and when she does crack and nap with him, it's the best rest she's had in a long time.
Red: He's a fieldhand who doubles as a pretty decent handyman. It's not unusual to catch him moving around in oil-stained dungarees with a toolbox tucked under one arm and a cigarette between his teeth, repairing any machinery that needs a loving touch. Other farms occasionally hire him out to repair whatever busted old thing they're not ready to let go of yet, and he's picked up a reputation for being able to repair anything.
... That's not the only thing he's picked up a reputation for, though. Red's got a good relationship with most of the other farms... mostly because he's banged a decent percentage of all the nearby fieldhands. He's famously good with his hands, after all.
Mc likes him, he's charming and somehow manages to smell good despite always being covered in motor oil. He likes to show off to her by helping her with her chores and lifting heavy shit with his big arms... she's flattered by his obvious interest in her. But she's also aware of his reputation, and isn't super keen to get cuddly just yet.
Skull: He mostly handles animals. He's got that quiet, strong demeanour that they like. He doesn't talk to people, or go out much, he's a bit of an urban legend in the area. He's much more comfortable around animals than people; animals don't judge him for how he looks, or expect him to talk, or care that he smells like hide all the time.
Mega crush on Mc from the first moment he sees her, which only exacerbates his usual anxieties around people and makes him super shy. Even though she makes him nervous, he really likes when she drops by the barns to help him with the animals. She's the only one who regularly visits. Silently feeding the chickens while he listens to her talk is one of his favourite activities in the whole world.
While Red's showing off is intentional, Skull tends to show off completely accidentally. He often lifts up stupidly heavy things without thinking; effortlessly slinging several bags of feed onto his shoulders, despite each bag individually being so heavy she couldn't even push one across the floor. He doesn't understand why her face flushes so much when he lifts big bales. Maybe she's been out in the sun too long?
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levisrations · 4 months
Text
A nice quiet Sunday morning, both of you just take it slow. Maybe lay in bed for a bit, Levi strokes your face lightly while you go over the to do list for the day. Sunday reset. You both get up, do your bathroom routines then set out for the kitchen, Levi prepares your morning drinks while you feed the cats that were meowing like crazy out your door(you both kicked them out because well you wanted some time alone before bed and it’s real awkward with them there and you just fell asleep and forgot to let em back in) you used just have kibble for your cats, the occasional wet foods but levi bought these oils and vitamins and chicken hearts so now the little brats eat better than you. Levi hands you your drink and while you sip you start breakfast for the both of you. Oatmeal for this morning and the last of the fruit before they go bad, you remind Levi you have to go grocery shopping, maybe hit up the farmers market to get fresh fuits and veggies. Levi makes the bed and throws the sheets he just changed into the washing machine and joins you to finish his drink and eat his breakfast. You sit in a comfortable silence, you watch some tik toks that your friend sent you and show them to him. He says you look exactly like that hamster from that meme that’s popular on there right now. Always using your puppy dog eyes to get what you want. He gives in every single time. You’re already planning on using them at the farmers market to get a bunch of baked goods and at the grocery store again for snacks and frozen meals. And itll work.
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afterimages-again · 5 months
Text
in which tim sees things.
what with the amount of things the Drakes bring home from their digs, it shouldn’t have surprised anyone that the manor itself - and the boy - would eventually become cursed.
(This is going to be pretty long.)
FACES IN THE PLATES When Tim was nine he broke a plate because he’d dropped it when it started talking to him. Janet was spooked by his sudden scream, but when she ran into the kitchen the plate, if not broken in half, looked perfectly normal. Tim swore there was a human face in the plate. The next time the Drakes left in another trip, Tim opened the kitchen cabinet to see every single plate bearing a human face, talking to him.
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2. ROTATING CHANDELIERS Tim looks over his father’s shoulder sometimes and sees the chandelier spinning, lazily, like a ceiling fan. It makes clinking noises sometimes; no one else mentions it. They can’t seem to hear or see it rotate.
3. ANIMALS RUNNING IN THE HALLS (based on this fantastic art by @/dappermouth) When the night is dark enough and Tim is alone he can hear various large animals roam around the house. On one memorable occasion there was a gigantic stag walking past the sitting room he was in. It didn’t notice him, unlike another more unfortunate time he looked out of his bedroom and made eye contact with a leopard, which promptly sprinted towards his open doorway. Thank god he slammed the door shut fast enough.
3. SNAKE-HEAD PORTRAITS The photographs and painting on the walls began looking odd the first time Tim picked up a camera. When he glanced at his grandmother’s portrait the woman in the picture had an ugly snake’s head, jaws wide open and very decidedly not his grandmother. He panicked and called his mother but the call wouldn’t connect. When the Drakes returned home the next day the portrait had returned to normal.
4. CHILDREN IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM they become more common an appearance when Tim turns fifteen, walking into the laundry room to pick up his uniform when out of the washing machine spills a blonde giggling little girl. In retrospect she sort of looks like Steph. After he helps her up and turns to close the door of the machine, he looks back and she’s gone, just like every other giggling child he finds in Drake Manor’s laundry room.
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5. THE VULTURE a bearded vulture appeared on Tim’s desk when he woke up one day. And then it never really left. Sometimes Tim would talk to it when he got bored and the vulture would talk back. At some point the bearded vulture managed to convince Tim to try eating a chicken bone, like it did (if Tim forgot to feed the bird it would disappear for the night and come back hours later cracking bones into swallowable bits) - the splintered bone parts were too sharp, and when he swallowed they scratched the inside of his throat. He never ate bones after that, but he still talked to the vulture.
7. THE SECRETARY BIRD Oddly enough, one night after a secretary bird appeared for the first time in Drake Manor’s hallways, it kept coming back, unlike the other animals that roamed the house when only Tim was home. It followed him around the house but said nothing. Sometimes the vulture would talk to it but it wouldn’t respond. When Janet came into Tim’s room she didn’t seem to notice the silent secretary bird standing beside her son’s bed, but she did notice the feather she’d stepped on; after Tim swore he didn’t know where the feather had come from she just… left. Suspicious, but unable to prove anything. No one ever mentioned the vulture or the secretary bird yet but they definitely noticed the feathers.
8. DEATH this hulking, robed creature that only appeared in his reflections. Oftentimes seconds after seeing the creature he’d hear a scream, more often than not see someone die, whether from falling from a building, getting shot, overdosing, or getting run over, etc.
Sometimes Death speaks to him directly. Sometimes it looks at someone’s (Stephanie’s. Bruce’s) corpse and says, they are not dead. Tim takes it with a grain of salt.
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9. RADIO TALKS TO YOU AND ONLY YOU the radio that Tim bought in order to listen to GCPD broadcasts began talking directly to him most of the time, after a while. Memorable lines included “Hi, Tim, has anyone come to check on you yet?” And “Hi, Tim, the flip Robin did last week was oddly familiar. You should listen to whatever your brain is telling you.” While he couldn’t interact with the radio like he could with the vulture, sometimes he turned it on just to listen to something talk to him - he doesn’t know who the radio voice talking to him is. It’s never changed throughout the years.
9. STONE STATUES When he visited Jason’s grave a week after the boy’s death, the mourning stone angel in front of the grave turned its head towards him and started crying blood.
10. THE BREATHING HALLWAY If he wastes enough energy to listen closely, he can hear a kind of overwhelming, rattling breathing going on in the air of particular hallways in both Drake and Wayne Manor. If he squints he can see the way the walls pull taut against each other and loosen as well, like it’s actively inhaling and exhaling.
11. BLOOD IN YOUR CUP He’s working on a case with a cup of whatever abomination he’s taken to drinking lately when he looks down, absently, and sees the dark, thick liquid sloshing around in his cup.
12. MARBLES ON THE FLOOR sometimes in the early morning (we’re talking 4am) he’d get up and find the floor of his bedroom and the adjoining hallway littered with marbles. They always clattered too loudly when he used his foot to nudge them out of the way. One time Damian saw him kicking the marbles away and asked, scornfully, why he was kicking air. Tim just stared at him and shrugged.
13. DOLLS THAT MOVE Near a crime scene that stumps nearly all the detectives on site, Tim, if he’s lucky, can see a group of porcelain dolls reenacting the crime scene in a corner - no one else seems to be able to. Sometimes it’s a doll with a painted smiling face convulsing on the ground as another doll mimes sawing it into half. Other times there’s some convoluted role playing going on and Tim has to switch between watching the dolls carefully and responding to the people around him, because Dick has expressed concern for his “spacing out” more than once. The dolls are, if he can decipher their acting accurately, always correct, and on occasion are crucial in solving the crime - even if Tim’s deduction is then waved off as baseless or a lucky guess.
(He’s sort of like god’s little lab rat.)
basically Tim’s still Robin (and eventually Red Robin) but with all these… not-hallucinations going on, and while he interacts with them he freaks out everyone else around him. Plus it gives him mad advantages and disadvantages in investigations. Please feel absolutely free to ask me about this au. The dreams I’ve been having are becoming too vivid, so now I’m throwing Tim into them. <3
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princessgorewhorexx · 6 months
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little hobbies and duties i think that Thomas Hewitt has because i have them as someone who lives on a farm.
- collects chicken feathers that stand out and puts them in a little box
- bone bleaching
- watching over tadpoles and feeding them
- watching vultures eat dead mice that are thrown into the field, and watching them from afar with binoculars
- is definitely in charge of getting dead mice out of the barns and greenhouses (and is a little sad about it)
- collects chicken eggs in his little apron and has pocket specifically for the eggs
- keeps birdseeds and treats in his pockets for the chickens and ducks so they will eat out of his hands
- definitely loves to hold chickens and hear them purr (it’s a delight)
- he has special plants that he cultivates in the greenhouse and you cannot convince me otherwise, i think he would enjoy having his own special little plants in a corner he looks after during the wintertime
- i just know this man loves a tractor. he. loves. the. tractor. just sitting tall on a huge machine and just getting lost in thought while cultivating new field or clearing walking paths in the woods. this man loves a tractor.
- i peg this man for an animal lover. i know he is a butcher but i just know that he can’t kill the animals himself unless he has to, i feel like his family can get a little much sometimes so he just bonds with the animals and feels bad when he has to kill them. (humans are kinda whatever because you gotta do that so they don’t tell on your family and so your family can survive the winter, humans have never been nice to him anyways)
i will make a part two of this in the summertime because i’ll think of new things to add since there are new responsibilities on the farm at that time.
thanks for listening!
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traldemic6 · 1 year
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Tempting the Freshman, Part I
Chapter 1: The Heat of August
Coach Thompson eyed the new recruits with a mix of anticipation and a sly, dark hunger. The sun was high in the sky, casting its warm glow over the football field as the team practiced tirelessly, sweat trickling down their young, muscular bodies. One boy, in particular, caught the coach's attention - a strikingly attractive freshman named Jake. His golden hair gleamed under the sunlight, and his crystal blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of naivety and boundless enthusiasm.
"Great work, boys!" Coach Thompson bellowed, his voice deep and commanding, unable to keep his eyes off Jake. "Keep up that pace, and we'll have a hell of a season!"
Jake's flushed cheeks glowed, as if the mere sound of the coach's voice was enough to stoke the fires within him. "Thanks, Coach!" he panted, his voice breathy and eager. "I'll do my best!"
As the season progressed, Coach Thompson found himself increasingly drawn to the young athlete, unable to resist his magnetic pull. He began spending more time with Jake, offering him extra training sessions and showering him with compliments.
"You're a natural, Jake. I've never seen a freshman with such raw talent," he said one evening, his voice dripping with desire as they stood alone on the field after practice. The floodlights bathed Jake's body in a halo of light, accentuating the curves of his muscles and the sheen of sweat that clung to his skin.
"Really, Coach?" Jake asked, his eyes wide and innocent, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I just wanna make you proud."
Coach Thompson's heart raced as he watched the young man standing before him, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his brow. He knew he should walk away, but the temptation was too great. He would have Jake, and he would mold him into the perfect specimen, feeding his own dark desires.
Over the weeks that followed, Coach Thompson began to subtly encourage Jake to indulge in unhealthy habits. He brought him fast food after practice, always with a knowing wink and a conspiratorial smile. "You've earned it, Jake," he'd say, as the boy tore into a greasy burger or a box of fried chicken.
And Jake, ever eager to please his mentor, happily obliged. He began to grow softer, his once-hard body slowly succumbing to the lure of Coach Thompson's temptations. He gained weight, his once taut stomach starting to show a hint of roundness.
During their training sessions, Coach Thompson reveled in the way Jake's body had changed. He found excuses to touch him more often, his hands lingering on the young man's now-fleshy thighs or the curve of his expanding waistline. He marveled at the way the tight football pants strained against Jake's growing bulk, the fabric stretched taut over his muscular but increasingly doughy buttocks.
"Coach, do you think I'm getting too big?" Jake asked one day, his brow furrowed as he looked down at his slightly rounded belly.
"No, no, not at all," Coach Thompson replied, his voice soothing and reassuring. "You're just filling out, that's all. It's natural."
"But my pants are getting tight," Jake protested, running his hands over his thickening thighs.
"It's just muscle," the coach lied, the excitement coursing through him at the thought of Jake becoming more and more dependent on him. "Trust me, you're still in fantastic shape."
As the semester wore on, Jake continued to balloon, his body a testament to Coach Thompson's twisted machinations. The other players began to notice, but Coach Thompson silenced their concerns with a stern glare and a reminder that Jake was still a valuable member of the team.
The coach kept detailed records of Jake's weight, secretly relishing the steady increase in numbers and the accompanying changes in his young charge's physique.
One evening after practice, Coach Thompson found himself alone with Jake in the locker room. The boy had just stepped out of the shower, water droplets glistening on his now-pudgy frame. His once-chiseled abs were a distant memory, replaced by a soft layer of fat that quivered slightly as he toweled off.
"Jake, why don't you let me give you a massage?" Coach Thompson suggested, his voice husky with desire. "It'll help with your muscle recovery."
Jake hesitated for a moment, but then his trusting eyes met the coach's, and he nodded. "Okay, Coach. If you think it'll help."
Coach Thompson could hardly contain his excitement as he began to knead Jake's broad shoulders, working his way down the boy's back. His hands slid over the curve of Jake's now ample buttocks, and he felt a shiver of lust run down his spine.
As he continued the massage, Coach Thompson's mind raced with fantasies of how much further he could push Jake, how much more he could make the boy depend on him. He felt no guilt, no remorse, only the overwhelming drive to possess and control.
But just as he was about to move his hands to Jake's soft, inviting belly, the door to the locker room swung open. It was another player, looking for his lost keys. The interruption shattered the spell, and Coach Thompson quickly pulled his hands away from Jake's body, a flush creeping up his neck.
"I think that's enough for today," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Get dressed and head home, Jake."
As Jake slipped on his clothes, Coach Thompson couldn't help but watch, his eyes lingering on the increasingly out-of-shape body that he'd helped create.
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gabessquishytum · 4 months
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A very self-indulgent ask here. Hob, having needed to start a new life, decides to take it easy from the fast pace of the city and buys a section of land to start a little farm! Most things come back easy to him - so many years living off the land, one way or another, doesn't go away quickly.
He's patching up the old farmhouse, painting board, hammering nails, breaking a sweat through it all. He starts tilling soil and planting seeds in the smaller back garden - mostly herbs to start with. He plans to ask one of the neighbors for help with the old farm equipment that was left over by the old owner. Even in here, things have changed so much! There's so many new machines and tools! Hob honestly thought it would feel like sliding into an old well worn pair of boots (and in many ways, it still is) but it's still new and fantastical.
He gets some chickens, which makes him realize how much he missed having chickens (and fresh eggs!). He enjoys the toil, the strain of muscle that a life like this provides. He enjoys the sweat on his brow and the easy rest his finds after a long day.
Then Dream comes to him, freshly retired and still wobbly on his newly human legs. So Hob coaxes him inside his home and gives him the care he needs. And slowly, Dream takes to this new human life of his.
So Hob teaches him how life used to be (and how it still is for many). Dream finds he especially likes feeding the chickens and watching them run around, pecking away. His eyes go wide the first time he sees a week old chick moving around. He names her Jessamy. She's his favorite.
Hob tells Dream to "go wild" in the house, and Hob enjoys watching how the fantastical mural progresses on the kitchen walls. Swirling colors and scenes only possible in dreams are revealed on the old walls. Hob smiles as he hands Dream a glass of freshly made lemonade and can't help but think how perfect he looks here in the light of the setting sun with stripes of blue and purple on his cheek.
Hob figures out how the old tractor works and how to attach the tiller and the direct drill with the help of their neighbors (a friendly group - the couple down the road brought them fresh milk). They get the first field tilled and sewn with winter wheat just in time for the cold. Hob takes a picture of Dream up in the tractor, looking wildly out of place in black skinny jeans and his silk top. Dream flips him off and Hob just laughs. Dream finds he quite enjoys that sound.
Winter comes and the daily chores slow (not stop, but slow) and Dream finds himself indulging in arts even more. Hob picks up some soft yarn and hooks when they're in town and the pair of them work on learning to crochet. Dream hates his first piece - a classic granny square - but by the time the holidays approach, he's made both him and Hob well-made scarves. Hob wears his every time he goes outside. It makes Dream smile.
Spring comes and with it, so does a bustling time of planting and planning. They work in tandem, prepping fields, buying seeds and fertilizer, caring for the chickens. They start renovating the old barn for either cows or sheep - they haven't decided yet.
Dream finds he quite enjoys the look of Hob in the midst of work. The sweat on his brow, the arch of his back and the tensing of muscles under his sweat soaked shirt all make for a very appealing image. If he takes out his sketchbook and works on capturing the moment, Hob doesn't comment on the sudden loss of extra helping hands.
It comes to a head on a perfectly average Tuesday when Hob's in the kitchen, kneading dough for bread for the week. It's early still. The sun has just started to peak over the horizon, their roosters just starting to crow - Jessamy from the sounds of it (and yes, so much for thinking she was a hen). Hob hears the padding of footsteps on the cool hardwood floors when a head rests against his back. He chuckles, telling Dream good morning and says he's up early.
Dream just grumbles in reply, a pair of hands rest hesitantly on Hob's sides. Hob continues, letting Dream soak up his natural warmth as he slowly wakes. The loafs will need to be formed still once the first proof is done, so for now, he places a towel over the top of the large bowl and pushes it up to the wall.
Hob turns in Dream's gentle hold and lets his body rest against the edge of the counter. Dream huddles closer, sighing as Hob wraps his arm around him. Dream looks up, this close, their noses are just hairs away from touching. Neither say anything, but both just know as they close the distance, it was how it was supposed to be. Here, in this house they each rebuilt with their own hands, on the land they tended to and cared for, they find love within each other.
This is sooooo lovely. I am very very into the idea of Hob going back to the land and starting a little farm. And how good it would be for Dream to create a whole new realm in the waking world. A sanctuary where he can live in harmony with all the living things around him. The food is home grown and home cooked, the bed is a little lumpy but perfect after a day of hard graft. Life revolves around the act of tending and of creating. It's not too far away from what Dream is used to, but it's all so totally different as well. It's new, but it feels safe.
Hob didn't realise it, but he also really needed this. The modern world is loud and bright, and if he's honest he's been craving the quiet and the stars and the solitude for a while. Solitude with Dream is even better. Sitting on the front step cuddling their chickens, talking about how the crops used to be in the old days before the fields were enclosed. Dream draws patterns in the dust with his finger. Life is quiet. Life is good. When the stars start to come out, they'll put the chickens to bed and then clatter up to their own room, to cuddle up under the patchwork quilt that Dream worked tirelessly to make as a gift for Hob. Tomorrow is a new day to shape together. The fact that Dream is looking forward to it? That means more than he can ever say in words.
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hermmachinery · 4 months
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Chicken Feed Mill Plant
What is The Chicken Feed Mill Plant? The complete chicken feed production line uses corn, wheat, soybean, grain, soybean meal, cottonseed meal, stone powder, premix, and other biomass as raw materials to produce pellet feed. The process of our automatic chicken feed production line includes grain hammer mills, conveyors, mixers, chicken feed pellets, coolers, pulverizers, screening machines,…
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wexhappyxfew · 2 months
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you, me, and the stars
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(a/n): judy x rosie girlies, this is for you!! this is for all the ones who have never been in love, who are trying to protect the last parts of themselves in the face of others, and for the ones deserving of love!! these two represent all those awkward, newly-found emotions and feelings, that surprise even themselves, so please enjoy! :)
Judy had dwindled into down to just this; home was more of a feeling, not entirely a place.
The flak house was beautiful, an escape, somewhere to get one's mind off of the mental torment that was the God-forsaken war they all seemed stuck in.
But, it wasn't Thorpe Abbotts; with its metallic scent of air, voices and grinding machine parts echoing at all hours of the day, the marching, the footsteps, the way the air danced through the tree leaves. The flak house was quiet, save for the occasional flight path overtop. Thorpe Abbotts was loud and enough to make you feel like your brain was being knocked about inside, but it was home in a way the flak house wasn't.
The thing that made Thorpe Abbotts feel like home was especially the people. All the men in the 100th, their leaders both lost and MIA, and the women of Silver Bullets.
It was just like her home, in North Carolina. With Ma and Pa, that large house on the river, big meals to feed all six kids, making sure the lambs, chickens and cows were kept up with, that laundry was hung, crops harvested, plates and bowls washed in the river.
They didn't have much, but they had each other.
And even across the ocean they still did - in more ways than one.
Now, Judy felt them even in the women beside her. Strong and courageous, putting on their brave faces against the waging war of the world. Something her family had done ever since they'd come to America.
"The stars are so bright out here," Bessie said from Judy, their arms interlinked, sat side by side on the steps in front of the flak house, the light dripping out from the main door where cool, night air rushed in,
"I almost wish Tommy could see it." Judy looked towards her with a small smile.
"He does," Judy whispered quietly, reaching a hand forward to gently brush her hand over Bessie's calloused palm, "where ever he is right now. He sees it. Maybe not this instance, but he does." She watched Bessie smile, the corners of her lips turning upward, before she glanced over at Judy, a big grin on her face, her eyes glowing, the softest they'd been in days, the least stressed Judy had seen the navigator.
"You know, when we were kids," Bessie started, "we sat in his parents' apartment, right by one of the windows and watched the stars one night, all night practically, side by side. Not only was it my first kiss, but…he also told me he'd name a star after me. I think he named it 'Bee'….something or other." Judy giggled into Bessie's side and clasped a hand over her mouth with a gleeful smile.
"You two were meant to be," Judy whispered quietly, "everything you say, about him, about you, about the two of you together. God, you'll make the cutest babies, Bessie, I'll tell ya." Now, it was Bessie's turn to laugh and shook her head.
"You know he told me one time that if he had a daughter, he'd name her Charlotte," Bessie said, "he thought the nickname, Charlie, would be cute."
"Taste." Judy said with a laugh, nudging Bessie's side, "Charlotte McKenzie has a ring to it."
"And so does Bessie McKenzie." Bessie said back, sending the two of them into a fit of chuckles under the moving dusk. They fell quiet for a beat and then Bessie sighed and wrapped an arm around Judy's side, giving her a tight squeeze and rubbing her shoulder.
"Well, I'm heading up, going to get some rest and enjoy waking up and drinking coffee without having to hear a bunch of bullshit from Blakely," Bessie said with a chuckle, "you good out here? Staying up a bit?" Judy smiled and wrapped her arms around her sides and nodded.
"Yeah, just a bit more," Judy said, "you go though, I'll be up in a bit. And…Bessie?" Bessie watched her as she stood and sent her a smile.
"Just...give Lieutenant Bradshaw an extra hug for me," Judy said sadly, "her eyes looked like she'd been crying all night. About Captain Brady, so….incase I get in late, just do that for me, please?" Bessie smiled at her and nodded.
"You think she loves him?" Bessie asked Judy. Judy stilled.
"I don't know a whole lot about love, but I know he looks at her like she's the only woman in the room," Judy said softly, "and she gets all blushy around him, all soft and sweet. I like to think the universe doesn't just do things for the hell of it." Ripping them from each other, Judy thought to herself. Bessie grinned and then looked at her sadly.
"Try and get some rest," Bessie said, "don't stay up too late, okay? You need to keep yourself well-rested. Goodnight, honey."
"Night, Bes." Judy called after her, watching Bessie offer her a smile and then disappear inside. Judy smiled softly, looking forward again towards the oncoming darkness and comfort of nightfall, the singing birds and bugs all around and sighed.
Lieutenant Bradshaw's eyes looked sadder more often than not, but she was trying and that's all the credit a person like Annie Bradshaw needed - that she was being seen.
To be seen, was to be loved.
"Hey," Judy looked over her shoulder and was almost surprised to see Rosie Rosenthal there, coming towards her from the doorway, hands in his pant pockets, his A-2 jacket over his shoulders and a soft smile on his face, "mind if I join you?" Judy watched him for a moment - he looked so….different, a nice different. A different that made her think they weren't in war for a second.
"Of course, sir," Judy said, watching as he came forward and settled down on the step beside her where Bessie had been, "come to watch the stars?" Rosie let out a chuckle and then glanced towards her, his face bathed in blues and purples from the night, his eyes like a doe's as he watched her.
"You could say that." he said, then he grinned, nodding at her,
"How've you been?" Judy watched him, unable to contain the grin wanting to grow on her face and then chuckled lightly.
"Good," she said, and then smiled nervously, "sir, uh, good, being away from base, it's been….a breath of fresh air, I'll admit. Just, not having to get those planes going in the morning, get in the ball turret and shoot, over and over. It's nice to just….." she watched as he watched her, "be."
"Good," Rosie said, his voice light, "good, good, I'm glad. Really. You've all been putting out the last few months. I know that - Pappy's been talking Kennedy's ear off and well…."
"Collateral damage." Judy supplied and Rosie nodded with a small chuckle, looking down at his hands in his lap.
"Exactly, exactly," Rosie said and then glanced up at her, "I'm just glad the Silver Bullets crew is getting some deserved rest. All of you."
"Thank you, sir." Judy said, her voice tender, watching him in a moment of seriousness that was different than a few seconds previous.
He watched her for a moment, just taking in the feeling it seemed, the same she was allowing herself to feel in her heart. They both seemed to come to at the same time and smiled, laughs leaving both their lips as Judy shyly looked away and crossed her arms.
"I'm sorry, Judy, are you, uh, cold?" Rosie asked leaning forward a bit, and placing a hand on her shoulder, "October's never been a great month for short sleeves." Judy watched him, looking between his face, his hand and him. Short sleeves, right, she was in that right now. And freezing; he was right. How'd he know? She glanced down at her short sleeves, her right side hidden beneath his hand and then looked to him, his face full of worry and seriousness. And then she let out a shy laugh and blushed quickly and then nodded.
"A bit, but," she shook her head, "I was planning to go upstairs in a bit anyway, so, it's okay."
"Here," Rosie said quickly, shrugging himself out of his A-2 and then leaning to his side to lay it over her shoulders, "just to warm up." And warm up she did in fact do; to the point, she was blushing all over and inhaling the scent from his jacket and him beside her and suddenly very overwhelmed with his presence. Alright, so it was a stupid feeling she had been trying to hide, but it was a feeling she had never felt all too well. And in a war, she wasn't sure what to even feel. But right now, with this jacket and him beside her, she wasn't as eager to head up to bed anymore.
"Thank you," she said softly, grasping the edges and then looking at him, "I appreciate it really." Rosie watched her with that tender gaze of his again before leaning back a bit and looking up.
"You can really see the stars from here," he said, his voice a small bit of astonishment and adornment for the world above them, glowing with the life of the night, shining little orbs so far away they'd never be able to actually grasp them, "they're beautiful."
"Yeah," Judy said, her eyes traveling back up to the night sky above them, "sitting in the darkness, on the ground, staring at the stars? It's almost like home." She could feel Rosie staring now, and glanced his way. Something so harrowing, yet nostalgic in a way. A mixture of feelings lingering between them at her simple statement - thoughts of home, seemingly so far away now, a place that'd be changed in a thousand different ways by the time they did actually got home - if they got home.
"Where is home?" he asked quietly, leaning to his side to bump her shoulder. She laughed quietly.
"North Carolina." she said, glancing at him in the quiet - she could practically hear him breathing. It was so … comforting.
"A tiny town," she admitted, "nothing big, a river, a general market, a wood mill, friends here and there down the road. But it was home." Judy looked over slowly towards Rosie beside her and quirked out a smile as she saw him sitting there, grinning.
"What?" she said grinning, "Where you from?"
"Brooklyn." he said, looking at her. Judy's face hurt from smiling, but it was okay because it was Rosie.
"Brooklyn," Judy said with a soft smile, "never really been in one of those big cities."
"You'd like it," Rosie said, looking out towards the darkness, "you'd fit right in. Bright lights, the people, the music. All of it." He looked at her. Judy smiled and pulled her knees to her chest, and glanced towards him again.
"Music, huh?" she asked him and he looked at her with a smile.
"Yeah, can't sing real well, but my mom, my sisters, they're pretty good. Far better than me," he said with a nod, and then grinned, "still love music though. You can never go wrong with Artie Shaw." Judy smiled, her thoughts consumed with the idea of what a younger version of this Rosie could've been, home with his family, dancing and attempting to sing. Far away from war and fear and grief. She liked the thought of that at some point, they were all like that. Young, youthful and free.
"Did you do a lot of music and dancing before the war then?" Judy asked him quietly, with a hopeful smile, watching as he comprehended her sentence and then let out a small smile. He shook his head and then leaned forward on his bent knees.
"I was a lawyer before the war actually," Rosie said and Judy's eye widened in near amazement, "yeah, was doing that and then the war broke out. Couldn't just sit back and do nothing." His face grew serious at that last statement and then melted as he looked at her.
"What about you? What was the thing Judy Rybinski was doing before this whole thing started?" he asked, leaning forward, with genuine curiosity and she watched him before letting out a laugh and shaking her head.
"I'm afraid nothing as cool as being a lawyer," she admitted and she watched Rosie's face soften as he tilted his head towards her, "but I was 3 years removed from high school, didn't have money for college so….I worked in the local mechanics, fixing cars, boats, anything and everything. Learning what I could. Made some good money, too." Judy watched him and sighed.
"But….I always dreamed of getting to go to college, continue to learn, allow myself to grow," she said, her thoughts swimming back to that time her parents told her they didn't have enough to help get her through schooling and Judy had cried herself to sleep and then gathered herself together and gone to the mechanic to start learning some trade, "maybe get a job teaching. Maybe geography or something of that sort….I don't know. One day, that's the goal." Rosie stayed watching her, his eyes holding her gaze as she looked at him.
"You should go for it," Rosie told her, "when the war is over, I mean. You'd be a great teacher, great with kids, getting to teach, you just…." Rosie cut himself off for a moment and then smiled at her, suddenly looking more shy and unsure of himself than in recent minutes. Judy watched him, her cheeks warming slightly at his encouragement and genuine thought. It made her stomach twist pleasingly. Rosie let out a nervous laugh and then looked at her, crossing his arms and leaning against his upbent knees.
"You're just someone I like being around," Rosie admitted quickly, running a hand behind his neck and then glancing at her, "and I think you'd be someone good at teaching kids. And being a teacher so….I think you should go for it." Judy was watching him, her cheeks all crimson and her heart racing and for a moment, she caught his gaze and she saw things that made her heart race faster.
Rosie Rosenthal was equally someone she liked being around, but the thought of telling him that made her sweaty and panicky and she figured she'd embarrass herself, so instead, she blushed further and smiled.
"Thank you, sir," she said quietly, and then let out a small laugh, "sorry, it's just….I haven't really told many people that, so…it just means a lot - the support I mean." Rosie smiled at her and nodded.
"You deserve good things after this war, Judy," Rosie said and then swallowed, "all of us do." Judy watched him, this urge to reach out and brush her palm against his cheek inviting her closer, a wish to curl up beside him and let the stars stare down at them, the need for human touch, to be looked at and loved.
By Rosie.
"You too, sir," she said quietly, her smile soft, "only the best." This staring, these lingering glances, they seemed to be whatever they couldn't say and just that look in his eyes made her blush further. Judy tried to control her racing heart, and her breath, and then cleared her throat.
"I think I'll be heading up now," Judy said, and pressed her palms against her cheeks and then sighed and looked to him, "Bessie said she'd braid my hair and I don't want to keep her up."
"Of course," Rosie said, standing to his feet and then offering his own hand towards her, which she took rather quickly, and then stood there, staring up at him like a goof, "try and get some rest tonight, alright?"
"You too," she said, and then chuckled, "sorry, Lieutenant Bradshaw said she couldn't sleep last night and it ended up being the two of you down here, with Doc, unable to fall asleep, just talking and stuff. So….yeah, just, you too, sir." Rosie laughed at her words and then schooled his facial expressions again.
"Thanks, Judy."
Staring at him, she couldn't constrain what she felt and stood on her tiptoes, before placing a small kiss to his cheek, and then turned and walked away, as fast as her feet could carry her and up the stairs, towards the room she was sharing with Bessie. Her mind raced, her thoughts knocking at the edges of her brain as she hurried in, shut the door, and let out a sigh, before turning to the two beds, where Bessie was sat up in one, reading a book and staring at her, confused.
"Since when did you get a jacket….like that?" Bessie said, raising a brow, "And that, large?" Judy blushed and then tried to speak and choked on her air a bit before clearing herself up.
"It's just Lieutenant Rosenthal's," she said, stepping forward and settling on the side of her bed to take her shoes off, "he saw me outside, gave it to me because he said I looked cold."
"Judith Rybinski," Bessie, sitting up and then practically launching out of the bed to sit beside her, "you're blushing like a loon! What happened?" Judy looked at Bessie, her heart pounding, her thoughts racing, emotions running high in far too many wacky ways. Bessie watched her excitedly, but then slowly let her face fall and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
"I think he's just being nice," Judy whispered quietly and then shook her head, "and then I gave him a kiss on the cheek because I wasn't thinking-"
"-a kiss? On the cheek?"
"Yes, yes, a kiss on the cheek, it was stupid, he was just trying to be nice-"
"Giving you his jacket in this cold is never just him being nice, Judy-"
"It's a part of it-"
"But not all of it!" Bessie said and looked at her, and smirked, "He probably wants to you know….get to know you more." Judy stared at her and then let her shoulders fall and shook her head.
"No….I don't think so," Judy said and then crossed her arms and bit back her lip, "and plus, did you know he was a lawyer before the war? Bes, he's probably, I don't know, someone from some sort of money to do that sort of thing, ya know? My family comes from people who've lived on the streets, we showered once a week as kids. What am I thinking?" Judy ran her hands over her face and sighed, before squeezing her eyes shut.
"It's stupid," Judy said quietly, "it's just a stupid crush, it'll go away. He's just being nice, and I latched onto that because a nice guy, is a nice guy. But that's it. And….it's fine. I'll be fine." She grew quiet and watched as Bessie stared at her, eyes full of that lingering worry.
"It's not a stupid crush, alright?" Bessie told her, "You're allowed to feel that and if someone's ever told you otherwise, they're the stupid ones. He clearly is someone who is interested, too, Judy. Don't discredit that about yourself. You're one of the sweetest peaches I've ever met. And someone like that? You deserve that." Judy looked over at Bessie and then offered a small smile.
"Thank you, Bessie," Judy said, leaning to her side to pull Bessie into a hug, "you're too nice to me." Bessie chuckled into the hug and patted her back.
"You deserve it, Judy." Bessie said, "A whole lot of things, but sweetness is one of the many."
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reticulating-splines · 7 months
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Chez Cromwell: Redux - Pt. 1
Magical Victorian Cat Mansion. Redone.
Part I: Exteriors | Part II
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So after the long-awaited addition of Infants and Ceilings to the game, I realized I should probably update my one furnished build (so far) for these features. Unfortunately I got carried away again and just ended up revamping the whole build from the exterior, to each individual room + some new ones! This version has also been more extensively play-tested over time with all age groups and pets, with some extra fire hazard and accessibility issues addressed.
It still has all the original Lot Features:
Victorian era historical build, fully playtested
Off-the-grid compatible
9 Bed / 6 bath
Library Greenhouse
Spellcaster's room
Outdoor smokehouse
Pleasure + kitchen gardens
Portal to the magic realm
Hidden cat room, litterroom, + catway system for Familiars
Staff/Servant's lounge w/ private stairs
Bedrooms for Butler, Nanny/Governess, and Maids
Lot size 30x40, fully landscaped
Cat Hangout, Peace and Quiet
Spooky lot challenge
As well as an extensive Changelog and list of New Features:
Revamped exteriors + interiors, roofs, and gardens
Ceilings for all rooms
Added even more windows somehow
Skylights for 3rd floor and wraparound verandah
Rooftop meditation-garden-yoga-summoning-circle
Portals! Small library located off the spell-room has been converted into the Portal Room with 3 portals leading throughout the house: one to the tower on the roof, one to the greenhouse in the back, and one to the third floor hall.
Moved Magic Realm Portal to rooftop garden
Put more cat doors everywhere, they enjoy using the catdoors and portals for zoomies
Sprinklers, alarms, and fire resistant flooring have been added around fireplaces.
Fireplace in the tower was removed for it's propensity to set the roof on fire and become unreachable and inextinguishable
Tower room has been converted into a Collections display room instead, a la sims 3
Portal in the tower/Collections room also makes potential burglaries more threatening, but if you’re an occult you’re expected to employ practical DADA techniques to avert this
Updated Nursery and Playroom for Infants
Redid terrain paint. Twice. Why tf does it just vanish randomly sometimes
NEW Magic Bean Hunt! Stump is located where the magic realm portal used to be and beans are strategically hidden around the lot. I'd love to see how long it takes for you to catch them all!
Washbasins for rooms without bathrooms now look like washbasins and are actually useable, both on and off grid
Added privacy hedges and lattices to backyard and fenced in chicken run
Potions Crafting Table added to Spell-room
Crafters Supply Cabinet added to Kitchen
Pocketed pocket doors
Secret Cat Room color scheme updated and cat-approved artwork added
Another Cat room added to 3rd floor
Magic Well has been shrunk
Rooftop area outside 3rd floor Study converted into rooftop Pavilion with chessboard and painting easel
Jack-and-Jill bathroom added for two of the third floor bedrooms
Toilet room removed and bath added for staff washrooms, for an equal 2-toilet/2-bath arrangement, which means the build now has a total of 7 full baths, and 8 toilets.
More crafting tables (fizz machine and candle maker) added to Staff Lounge
Yoga/Meditation Balcony for staff above greenhouse
Small telescope added to rooftop outside tower room’s new 2nd door
Garden lights around yard configured for power + off grid lighting
‘Bike racks’ added by front gate
New Library shelves seem to allow sims to retrieve books but not put them back. However this is actually a feature, not a bug, since now you can put the books back yourself on on the right shelves and keep things organized 🙃
Should now be consistently able to feed and be eaten by the Cowplant
Homey trait replaced by Gnome lot trait since there is a proliferation of gnomes
Requirements
Lot: 40x30, $752,005, 9 bed 8 bath, Cat Hangout, Gnome, Peace and Quiet, Spooky Lot Challenge
Packs - packs in bold are essential:
EPs - Cottage Living, University, Island Living, Get Together, Get Famous, Seasons, Cats&Dogs, Eco Living, City Living, Get to Work
GPs - Realm Of Magic, Jungle Adventure, Parenthood, Vampires. Strangerville, Spa Day, Outdoor Retreat
SPs - Paranormal, Laundry Day, Romantic Garden. Nifty Knitting, Vintage Glamour
Kits - Blooming Rooms, Desert Luxe
Patreon Download
Public: Available Dec 15th!
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goatpaste · 11 months
Note
*RIPS DOOR OFF HINGES* TRAILER PARK DINOPANTS
OUGGHH TRAILER PARK DINOPAAANNNTTTSSS
Diego and Johnny's trailers back to back with an ally in the middle and they get into FIiiiIIGhts, sometimes just screamin matching through the fence like two dogs that spotted each other. type of guys who diego see's Johnny and Gyro having a quiet romantic tender gushy moment together and he YELL across the alley to 'get a room'
they own chickens and Diego names them all and babies them. Didi's trailer park hick, born and raised there, but he is on his phone and loves to make tiktoks about feeding his chickens weird shit.
Hot Pants came from a well off family but has taken VERY well to the area. Girl who has a beer on the patio while watchin the sun set, Didi in the yard chasin a chicken that got out.
Lucy Steel lives in the Nice apartments down the way but comes to visit to hang out with the local trailer park kids, or mostly get tutored by Hot Pants.
Hot Pants also tends to be the go to for when the local youth get hurt doin some dumbshit they dont want their parents to know they were doin because He wont tell and will help ya patch you up after you were messin around in old shed where all the old tools and machines are stored and you dropped a circle saw on your friends foot
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Girls after grabbin a 6 pack at the gas station down the road for the celebration at the joestar's house that Diego PROMISED to not start a fight at (he will fail)
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hopefuloverfury · 8 months
Note
I know you said you might do this anyway, but what were the bachelorette's first impressions of the farmer? how did they all fall in love with them?
I had so many thoughts about this, and even though I cut out quite a bit—yes, it was worse than this—they’re still big. I actually had to rework the format because tumblr literally would not let me post the fucking text wall that was Maru's part, and then I couldn't have her part be formatted differently because that drove me insane. Jesus. Writing for Emily is still a little unfamiliar to me, and I think it reflects in my writing a little bit, but I hope I did her justice.
Bachelors are here.
Bulleted format. Scattered dialogue, self-doubt, and a little bit of thirst(Leah's fault, not mine), but mostly fluff. Mentions of injuries, blood, and the farmer being a reckless dumbass. Not proofread, please excuse any mistakes, my English isn’t great. Some of them include a bouquet, others do not. I stuck to canon for most of them, but I gotta be honest, sometimes my imagination is just so much more fun. Enjoy <3
Maru
Maru is extremely excited to meet you
Those farmlands have been sitting there for years, wasting away and falling apart with no one to care for them, and as a little girl she absolutely loved your grandpa
She was always interested in agriculture, and watching him work was never anything but interesting to her
She was heartbroken when he passed away, but because the farm belonged to your family after that, and there was a strict ‘no trespassing’ rule, she never got to visit
She could stand outside the gate, looking over the slowly deteriorating land, but never ever did she hop the fence
So the idea of the farmlands opening back up was a dream come true for her—the fact that someone was finally going to start caring for the land again filled her with so much joy
When she does finally meet you, that joy is confounded with curiosity
She can admit readily that she’s attracted to you, but she doesn’t get many opportunities to speak to you after the initial introductions, so it doesn’t go much deeper than that
You’re always so busy, and she doesn’t want to bother you, lest she distract you from your chores or responsibilities
But sometimes, you’ll come into town for your errands, and watching you flitting around with so much on your plate makes her hopeful for the future of the valley
She knows that your grandfather must be resting easy now, with the farm in your capable hands
Honestly, at first she thought you might fix up the farm enough to sell the land and make a dollar off of it, and then bounce
She’s relieved to know that you’re not doing that
And the more buildings you commission from Robin, the more excited she gets
There’s one time when she goes on a walk to take a break from a frustrating problem with one of her machines, and she ends up at the northern entrance of your farm
It’s greater than it ever was under your grandfather
The fields are full, there’s animal pens bursting with life, and you’re standing a little ways off, feeding your horse
You notice her, sensing her stare, and she’s terribly embarrassed at showing up without any invitation or warning—even if it was unintentional
But you grin, happy for the company, and usher her onto your property
She flicks open the gate, and the moment her feet touch the ground beyond the fence, she’s teleported back to her time as a toddler, when she would chase the chickens and watch your grandfather work
You’ve heard how close she was with him, and how much she looked up to him, so when she starts tearing up looking around the property, you lead her to your grandfather’s shrine
She kneels in front of the stone, holding her breath still in her chest to keep from sobbing
She’d never been able to visit the headstone before that moment, and seeing his name carved into the dark stone broke her heart
You give her permission to visit the farm whenever she likes, even when you’re not home, if ever she wants to visit him or take a break from everything
The farm is peaceful and beautiful, and she takes you up on the offer with a wet smile
She starts visiting frequently after that, more often when she knows you’re home, but sometimes when you’re not
One day in particular comes to mind: you’d run off to the desert for the day, for one reason or another
She spent the day pacing around the farm, and while she was watching the animals disappear into their pens as the sun crept below the mountains, there was an otherworldly whirring sound by your home
She investigated, and when she spotted you behind your farmhouse, she almost fell apart right then and there
Your body was bruised, and there were shallow cuts in your skin where your clothes were torn—most of them looked like claw marks, but there were also pieces of your clothing and hair that were dark and ashy, like you’d been singed by flames
You caught sight of her, and the relieved smile on your face was like nothing she’s ever seen before
She couldn’t stand to see the farm fall apart again—that was what she told herself, anyway, as she helped you into the farmhouse with a hand around your hip, fully supporting you as you trudged up the front steps
You collapse on the couch, too exhausted and sore to walk up the stairs to your bedroom
She does her best with what limited first aid supplies you have, and thankfully your injuries aren’t terrible, so she manages it well enough
But she’s terrified, though she knows that the likelihood of you dying on your couch is slim to none
While she’s bandaging a cut on your cheek, you realize that her hands are shaking terribly
Carefully, you reach up to hold her wrist, and she stops short
The air between you is charged with something new as you lock eyes
It clicks for her then
But she’s afraid that if it isn’t reciprocated, you’ll stop letting her visit your grandfather and the farm, so she keeps that firmly to herself when you ask if she’s alright
She reassures you that she’s fine, just a little shaken, and that she’ll feel better if you let her finish
She stays over that night, keeping an eye on you from the other couch as you sleep—just for her peace of mind
You wake up and you’re a little better, but she still walks you down to the clinic in the morning for Harvey to properly look you over and treat you
Her dad gives her a lot of shit for spending the night at your place, but she’s confident in her choice and doesn’t regret it, not with your injuries treated properly and your chipper smile flashing in the sunlight as you walk through the square a few days later
It’s a little tense with her father for a while afterward, but she’s not having any of it and is quick to shut him down whenever he tries to scold her—she might have his brains, but she got her mother’s spirit
You feel like shit for putting her through all of that though, and so you stay away from the caverns unless it’s strictly necessary
When it is necessary, you take a lot of food and warp totems with you, just in case—and staircases. Loooots of staircases
She’s grateful for that, but doesn’t know how much until a long while later
It’s not your fault—it was a misunderstanding
Her parents mentioned you on Friday after they got home from date night at Stardrop, and her whole world came crashing down
They told her that you looked terrible, and that you mentioned spending the day in the desert
she was out the door a moment later
Maru sprinted the whole way down to town square, praying you were still at the saloon, and when she busted through the door, you were perched at the bar with a pint in your hand
At the sound of someone nearly crashing through the front door, you lifted up your head, and she really wished her parents could be more specific
You do look terrible, but not because you’re in bad shape—you’ve just got a nasty sunburn and the most horrendous bags under your eyes
Everyone is staring at her, because she never goes to the saloon, but she doesn’t care
She’s so grateful that you’re okay, albeit a little tired
You recognize the look on her face, pay for your tab without bothering to finish your drink, and pull her right back out the door
You walk her home, gently explaining that no, you did not go into the caverns today, you only went to the desert to pick up things from Sandy’s shop and for some “exotic foraging,” for lack of better phrasing, and the sun just took it out of you
You don’t owe her an explanation, it’s none of her business what you get up to, she says, but you shut that down with a hard look, stopping still in the middle of the path to her home
She can’t meet your eyes for fear of you seeing right through her
Her worry, her fear, her paranoia and the wild look in her eyes when she spotted you at the bar was all too honest
There’s more there, and she’s terrified that you’ve figured it out
“You want it to be your business though, don’t you?”
She bites her lip hard, trying not to cry now that she knows she’s been found out
She nods, and then your hand is circling her wrist, and you’re pulling her into your chest
“I want it to be your business too.”
And if you feel her tears drip onto your clothed shoulder, you don’t mention it
Penny
Penny stopped in her tracks the first time she saw you
It was a few days after you’d arrived in Pelican Town, maybe the third or the fourth of Spring
She was dropping Jas off at home when she saw you chopping down trees in Cindersap with a worse-for-wear knapsack slung diagonally over your shoulders, stuffed full with wood and fiber
You were sweating, and panting, and part of her was concerned for your wellbeing, because in that moment she was sure you’d collapse right in the grass beside your ax
But then you wiped the sweat off of your forehead and felled a giant pine tree, in no time at all
She was going to stare some more, but then Jas yanked on Penny’s arm and asked her to walk her inside
Penny only barely managed to tear her gaze away from you to take Jas inside and drop her off
She’s not totally proud of it, and Marnie still teases her for it a little bit, but she rushed through dropping Jas off and was a little short with both of them in her eagerness to get back outside—but not to talk to you. Oh, no.
She was much too shy to do that
But she wanted to see you one more time before you left
Unfortunately by the time she escaped Marnie’s questioning stare, and all but tumbled out of the front door in her rush, you were already packed up and gone
You didn’t go to the egg festival (you were broke, and probably forgot about it in favor of clearing your farmlands)
The next time she got to take a look at you—a proper look, this time—was at the flower dance
You were walking around the meadow, introducing yourself to some, and familiarly greeting others
And when you introduced yourself to her, she nearly forgot her own name as you shook her hand
It had been four weeks since you moved to town, and your hands were calloused from the farm work you’d been busting your ass at since you arrived
But that was the only rough part about you
Everything else was soft and kind, and the way you said her name made butterflies erupt in her stomach
And the smile you gave her afterward was so pretty
She couldn’t forget the way your eyes crinkled at the edges as you bid her good luck during the dance and went on your way
And from then on, it felt like she was seeing you everywhere
Hearing about you from the other townsfolk, catching sight of you walking through town at least twice a day, and even getting a few opportunities to talk with you herself
And then her tiff with George happened, and she swears no one had ever been so quick to defend her—she was a little starstruck when you smiled softly at her after he was gone, and reassured her that what she did was kind and good-intended
You were always smiling at her like that, heartbreakingly gentle
When she apologized for the way her mom shouted at you after trying to help clean their trailer, when you ate her poor attempt at stir-fry without complaint, and especially when you showed up during her field trip with the kids in Cindersap
Clearly just out of the fields, dirt on your knees and mud on your boots, with the most breathtaking glitter in your eyes
Your skin was flushed from exertion, and she’s never seen anyone look attractive while sweating, yet there you stood, backlit by the early afternoon sun
And watching you interact with the kids was the cherry on top
She’s always wanted a big family, but no one in Pelican Town ever seemed like a good match for her—not in the long run, anyway
But she thinks you’re kind, and safe, and you have a natural energy that makes you easy to get along with
She’s well aware that she likes you, but she’s used to things not going her way, or being taken from her, so she resigns herself to an eternity of pining after you
She tries not to fantasize too much, because it’s a little embarrassing, and it hurts a little, but sometimes she can’t help but imagine what you might look like with a child bouncing on your hip
What you’d like for breakfast—how you’d like your eggs in the morning
She thinks about what domestic life with you would be like constantly
Shortly after Robin builds Penny and Pam their house, you show up on her doorstep
You asked Robin to keep it a secret, of course, so Penny doesn’t know it was you and still doesn’t
But she invites you in, too excited to show you everything to notice the stunning array of flowers clutched tightly behind your back
She insists on showing you around, and letting you check everything out
You both step into the kitchen, and she’s gesturing grandly at the dining space, practically squealing over the hand-embroidered tablecloth Granny Evelyn gave them as a housewarming gift
She spins around. “So? What do you think?”
And that’s when you finally reveal the bouquet behind your back
“I think these might look good on the table.”
She thinks you’re being kind, or that maybe you don’t know what those bouquets are for, because there’s just no way, right?
“Oh!—I’m sure we have a vase for these somewhere, just let me—”
You stop her with a careful hand on her wrist, barely gripping just in case you’ve read it all wrong and she wants to get away from you
“Penny. Do you… know what I’m asking you?”
And she does, but she’s in disbelief. There’s no way you’d want her too, right?
And now that she thinks about it, she could’ve sworn you were interested in Haley or Abigail, because, you know, obviously they’re both really pretty, but Haley’s family has money, and Abigail’s so much cooler than her—
“If I wanted them, would I be here, giving a bouquet to you?”
After you leave—because as romantic as you are, you’re still a busy person running a farm all by yourself—she puts the flowers on the table with the dopiest grin on her face
She flops into her bed and squeals into her pillow, the fluttering in her chest so strong she swears she could float away
She has trouble falling asleep that night, too busy thinking of your smile as she stares at the ceiling fan
Abigail
She’s determined to dislike you from the get-go no wonder her and Seb are friends
When she finally sees you, during an early spring trip to Pierre’s, she takes the sudden drop in her stomach as a sign that you’re bad news
Then you beat her at the egg hunt, and she’s in a sour mood for days
she will straight up refuse to leave her room if she knows you’re in the shop
Wednesday is her favorite day of the week, because she won’t have to see you
But of course you have the audacity to show up one day when she’s only just managed to get out of helping her mom with dinner
She’s getting her ass kicked in JotPK when you knock on her bedroom door
She doesn’t know why the hell you’re bothering her, and she’s suddenly embarrassed that you caught her right as she died, but then she gets an idea
She asks you to play in the hopes that you’re terrible at it so at least she’ll finally have proof that you’re not good at everything or perfect all the time
She half-hopes you say no, but then you’re sitting down and reaching for a controller, so she’s stuck with you
You make it past the first level without dying, while she gets killed within the first thirty seconds, because of fucking course
She’s halfway through thinking up a snarky barb when her mom calls for her
You set the controller down and smile at her, and then you’re reaching into your pocket
“I came over to give this to you. I found it in the mines, and it reminded me of you.”
You hand her the most opaque, gorgeous raw amethyst she’s ever seen
She has half a mind to ask why on earth you’d think about her, but then her mother is calling her again, more urgently the second time around, and you’re walking out within seconds
She stares at the amethyst for what feels like forever that night, thinking
She doesn’t get the opportunity to properly speak to you again until a week later
It’s raining, and she’s playing her flute, just basking in the whimsy feeling of the valley 
She opens her eyes after a particularly long note to find you standing a few feet off, your fishing rod in hand
The rain is soaking you to the bone, with some of your hair stuck to the delicate skin of your throat, and she short-circuits
Her gut reaction is to get defensive and ask you what you’re doing, but you handle it with grace
You ask her what she was doing, and when she says she wanted to spend time alone, the recognition on your face is palpable
You nod, adjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder, but she stops you, saying some bullshit about how she doesn’t mind your company
Hasn’t she minded your company since you first showed up? Why is she lying??
But the surprise and hesitance clear on your face makes her feel… not nice
So she scoots over, gesturing vaguely to the space beside her
“You’re getting soaked. Come stand under the tree.”
What progress you made with her is quickly dashed when you pull out the mini harp—because why wouldn’t you also play an instrument? 
She’s always been competitive, but she doesn’t understand why she’s so desperate to have something over you
Hearing about your trips in the mines from the other townies doesn’t help
Knowing you have the freedom to go wherever you like without any overbearing, old-school parents breathing down your neck, and the fact that you’re apparently in good standing with the two adventurers up at the guild, who speak to basically no one else?
One night her self-worth is particularly bad, and she runs off to the graveyard for some peace and quiet
Her dad is getting on her ass about “acting like a lady” more than usual and it’s been driving her up the wall
It rubs her the wrong way how no one bats an eye at the things you get up to, but everyone’s always getting on her case about acting “proper”
And of course you show up that night, too
Right in the middle of her break between drills, while she’s heaving and guzzling water
You appear out of seemingly nowhere, and the shriek she lets out is so fucking embarrassing
You don’t laugh at her for that, but she does see the mirth in your eyes when she says she was practicing her swordsmanship
As if the thought of her swinging a sword around is so funny to you
She snaps something about that, but then her entire world flips on its axis when you chuckle good-naturedly and make a joke about how pissy it must make Pierre, what with his old, dated-ass values
And then you ask if she’d ever like to practice with you—“I could use a sparring partner anyway”
And obviously Pierre catches you chatting in front of the headstones and nearly pops a blood vessel, and she’s irritated that you had to see them like that, but she’s caught totally off guard when you back her up and laugh at Pierre’s expense
“I know he’s your dad and all, so no disrespect to him, but fucking hell, the stick up his ass is massive”
That lightens her mood a bit, knowing that she has at least one more person who acknowledges that her parents are overbearing sometimes
Unfortunately for your patience, it takes a long time and a few sparring sessions before everything clicks into place for her
In the thick, humid heat of summer, she finally gets you down, her wooden sword pressed just below your jugular
The golden afternoon sunlight bounces off the sweat on your face, and it makes you glow beneath her
You give her a breathless smile, with an eager and impressed shimmer in your eyes, and suddenly, she understands
Every moment since you stepped off of the bus, she’s been pining after you
Desperate to have something over you, not because she wants to be better than you, per se, but because she wants to impress you
She cuts the session short, not glancing behind her even once as she all but sprints away from the farmlands
Once she’s home, she rushes into her room and locks herself inside, her face beet-red and sweaty from the run, and from you
The amethyst you gave her so long ago sits on her night stand, mocking her with its deep purple glow
And oh, she is so fucked.
Haley
She doesn’t share in the enthusiasm everyone has about you, and she honestly doesn’t really care that you’ve moved in
She has no interest in making friends with you—you’re always covered in dirt and sweat and she thinks it’s really strange gross
After you take Emily’s side over the couch cushions, she’s pretty bratty for a bit, and is convinced you have a crush on Emily in order to side with her
But if you give it a few weeks, she accepts that maybe that’s not true, given that your interactions with Emily don’t seem more than platonic
But there’s this one time, where you’re over to drop off some cloth or something, and she’s struggling with a jar in the kitchen
You open it for her without question, and when your hands brush against each other when you hand the jar back, Haley’s skin tingles
But then Emily is there and you’re leaving, so she doesn’t bother examining it further, content to move on with her life
That plan comes crashing down rather quickly though
A few weeks later while taking pictures at the beach, she notices her wrist is uncharacteristically barren
Immediate panic swells in her chest, and she spends thirty minutes pacing over the tiny dunes looking for her great-grandmother’s bracelet, not even caring when sand spills into her shoes and starts rubbing against her skin uncomfortably
She’s close to tears, paranoid and jerking her head this way and that at the slightest glimmer in the sand
Those thirty minutes pass, and she’s not found anything, and her tears start flowing freely
“Haley?”
She spins around, and sees you
She knows how eager you are to help everyone in town—you’re helping to fix up the old community center, all of the museum’s donation placards have your name on them, and every board request outside of Pierre’s rarely goes unanswered
Besides, you’ve helped George and Shane before, and surely she’s not as grouchy as they are, so maybe you’d be willing to help her, too?
She calls you over, and you immediately rush over at her tone
The concern on your face is enough to make a wave of fresh tears push forward, but she blinks them back desperately
Your hands are on her shoulders, squeezing softly as she tries not to cry 
She resigns herself to never seeing her grandmother’s bracelet again, when your hands are leaving her skin
She feels cold immediately, even with the sun beating down on her neck
But then you start walking around, hunting for her lost jewelry with a focus unlike anything she’s ever seen, and the thought of you helping her when she’s been basically nothing but unkind makes her feel awful
Her tears get a new kick to them, clogging up her chest and making her sick to her stomach, when you’re calling out from across the beach
You rush over from Elliott’s shack, and she sees her bracelet glittering between your fingers as you hold it out 
“Is this it?”
She doesn’t bother with a verbal response, grabbing the bracelet tightly in her own hand and flinging her arms around your shoulders to hug you close
She doesn’t think she’s imagining the blush on your face as you help her put the bracelet back on, and the way you hold her wrist before pulling away makes her burn
After that moment, she’s always noticing things about you
The little things you do that show how much you care for other people, how kind and compassionate you are—the way you have everyone wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it
She knows that’s not true, though—she knows that you can tell the effect you have on people, but she’s struck dumb by the fact that you never use that against them
You’re never manipulative, never inconsiderate, never anything but good and kind and she’s so fucking insecure because she’s always been bratty and selfish and shallow and there’s no way someone like you would ever like her back—Oh.
She wants you, but doesn’t think she deserves to, given how she treats people
She’s never really been one to wallow, though, so she springs to action immediately
She goes through her closet and donates half of her wardrobe, she starts doing her part to keep the house tidy, she smiles and waves at anyone she passes in town—she’s even started hanging out with Emily, and she’s having fun
After a few weeks, she realizes that now she’s motivated more by her relationships flourishing, instead of trying to impress you
But she can tell it’s making a difference with you, too, and that’s a nice plus
Especially when you’re both standing in Marnie’s pens, taking pictures with the cows, and you’re so gentle with her after she gets bucked off
You insist on walking her home, carrying her camera equipment for her and watching her closely for any discomfort or limping
She’s never felt so cared for, and she can’t think of anything else while she’s washing the mud off of herself
But you don’t ask her out until a little while later, probably sometime in Winter 2
You go into her house, and Emily sees the bouquet first, immediately knowing what it’s for and all but shoving you in the direction of the kitchen
Haley’s standing at the counter, making herself some peppermint coffee in her sleep clothes yes i’m bitter it’s not an in game item shut up, and maybe it’s not as romantic as you wanted it to be, but she just looks so cute and cozy that you ask anyway
She says yes, of course, and she can’t stop smiling long enough to drink her coffee, even after you’re gone and the flowers are sitting proudly on her vanity
Leah
Leah’s world isn’t really affected all that much when you show up in Pelican Town
She’s excited to see what you do with the farmlands, and she wouldn’t be opposed to having another friend besides Elliott, but she’s not going to bust her ass to make friends with you
She’s got bills to pay on an artist’s salary, and her days are filled with foraging and working on her art, so she busy
But the first time she meets you is when she’s walking to the spring onion patch for some late morning foraging
When she arrives, she’s disappointed to find that you’re already there, yanking the last of the spring onions out of the ground
Most of her money goes into paying her bills, so her diet mainly consists of food she’s foraged in Cindersap or around the valley
She depends a little too heavily on the onions during spring, so if there’s someone else in the valley who forages for food besides Linus, she’s got to rework her schedule to make sure she gets enough to eat
She’s in the middle of asking what you did before moving to Pelican Town when you pull a face and start digging through your bag
And then you’re dropping five of the largest ones into her basket
She’s surprised by it, and her gut reaction is to tell you ‘oh, you didn’t have to do that, I could’ve found something else’—but you’re not having any of it
You’re waving goodbye and traipsing off towards the tower, the sun beating down and making you gleam like gold
She shakes it off and walks home, caught off guard by how readily kind you are to someone you only just met
And your kindness doesn’t stop there
Sometimes she doesn’t have time between her art projects to go look for anything in Cindersap, so you take it upon yourself to get things for her too
And the only reason you overhear her heated phone conversation with Kel is because you’re dropping off forage for her
She starts doing the same for you, when your farm really takes off
She’s blown away by how much progress you’ve made, and she’s honestly a little jealous, but she can’t find it in herself to be bitter because you’re so wonderful all the time
Someone like you deserves a nice life like that, you know?
She’s inspired by you and your kindness, so much that she carves a sculpture for you
She doesn’t realize she has feelings for you when you display her sculpture on your porch, even though the feeling in her chest is overwhelming and fluttery
The moment she pieces everything together, it’s your fault
She’s trying to reach a fruit high up in the cherry blossom tree, already breathless from her continued efforts, when you appear out of thin air and scare the living daylights out of her
She looks up at the fruit longingly, and maybe if she jumps off of the trunk she can reach a little higher—
You lift her up like she weighs nothing, smiling kindly as she looks down at you in surprise
She’s sitting on your shoulder, your hands supporting her under her boots, and she plucks the fruit from the branch with a few twists
You let her down, snorting dryly when she comments on your strength, and she quickly uses her whittling knife to carve off a piece of the fruit for you
She holds it out for you to take, but you glance down at your hands with a frown
You got dirt on them from her shoes when you lifted her up, and you’re not totally jazzed at the idea of eating mud and dirt with your fruit
She thinks maybe you’ll stick your hands in the pond to rinse them off, but nope.
She blushes furiously when you lean forward and take the fruit into your mouth, straight out of her hand
Your lips brush her fingertips, and she gasps at the contact
You swallow and smile, and then you’re shrugging your backpack on and walking away like you totally didn’t just flip her world upside down and turn it inside out
It’s all she can think about from then on, no matter what you’re talking about or how brief your interactions are
She tries her best not to let it show, but it’s hard when you’re all she can think about, and all she wants to do is kiss those god awful lips of yours
She invites you to her art show in town, and you show up all dressed up for the occasion, with a glitter in your eyes she’s never seen before
Encouraging her once again, and for fucks’ sake would you please stop looking at her like that???? She’s about to give a speech to the whole town, she’s already nervous!
The show goes well—her sculptures were all sold, and Mayor Lewis even commissioned her for a Pelican Statue to put in the town square
Life’s going better than it has in a long time; her bills will be paid, and her confidence is through the roof
You’re walking her home after the show when you daringly thread your hands together
She looks at you in surprise, transfixed by the steady blush creeping down your neck and up to the tips of your ears
She squeezes your hand, a blush of her own spreading over her face that doesn’t go away even after you drop her off
She flops into bed with a dopey grin on her face, giggling uncontrollably and kicking her feet and holy fuck, she’s in her late twenties, why is she so giddy over holding hands???
It’s embarrassing, but no one is here with her anyway, so who cares?
You like her too.
You like her too.
Emily
She’s practically foaming at the mouth to meet you LMFAO
She had a dream about a new farmer moving into Pelican Town a month before you even quit at Joja
So when the townspeople found out you claimed your grandfather’s farm, Emily was truthfully, impatient as hell
She tried to keep her mind busy so it didn’t occupy her every day, but it got harder to do the closer it got to your arrival date
And she swore there was something different in the air when you stepped off the bus
The egg festival was the first time she spoke to you, and she’s sure it must be destiny that you spoke to her first out of everyone in the square
Right off the bat she knew there was something different about you
The way you carried yourself, and how you looked at the world around you
There was wonder there, like you had only just started living
She got the opportunity to know why when you visited the saloon one night
It was slow, and she was busying herself by wiping out a few wine glasses when you walked in, fresh out of the mines
You looked worse for wear, but when she asked if you were alright, your mood was overwhelmingly positive
Exploring the mines was easier than working at Joja at least—or so you claimed
Given how often she hears about people feeling stuck and stagnant, she’s glad at least one person in Pelican Town is taking charge of their life and trying to be happy
But the longer you’re in the valley, the better everyone’s lives seem to be going
Pam has her job back again, the minecarts are working, and then the community center is up and running—all thanks to you
She finally understands why she was having dreams before you ever showed up when the Joja Mart closes down and gets remodeled into a gorgeous movie theater a few weeks later
Everywhere you go good fortune seems to follow—the trees sway toward you, the water calms in your presence, and the wind blows a little gentler, and now the community is finally rid of that terrible corporation’s presence
When she finally realizes that she likes you, there’s no catalyst—no special moment or anything
You’re not even there when it clicks
She’s in her room, sewing a new dress for Haley for Feast of the Winter Star Christmas, and her train of thought wanders to you
She thinks of the dreams, of your influence over the townspeople, over the flora and fauna, and she knows that it was destiny for you to move to Pelican Town and fix everything
But then she sets that aside, and thinks about you
Just you
The way you look after a day out in your fields, the sound of your laugh, the dedication you show in everything you do, and the compassion and thoughtfulness of your actions
Even when you’re not fixing up the town, or dropping off gifts to some townie or another, you’re a bright spot in the middle of the gloom—the eye of the storm
You’re safe, and she gets teared up thinking about you
She likes you so much
She’s immediately abandoning the dress in favor of busting out her tarot cards, because now she has to know for sure
Is it a waste of time? Is it for her to decide? Is it destiny?
She doesn’t know, and she needs to find out before it drives her insane, and then The Lovers and Two of Cups fall out of her deck
She’s confident that the universe is pointing her in your direction, and she’s not going to ignore those signs any longer
She’s on her way to Pierre’s, coin purse in hand and jingling with the gold she needs to seal her future with you, when you run smack into each other outside of her house
You both stumble, but while you right yourself without issue, she falls backward
You catch her just in time and drag her back to her feet, apologizing profusely for knocking her down, and seeing you in front of her with your arms carefully looped around her waist, well
She confesses on the spot
It’s awkward, she’s stuttering the whole time, and you’re wide eyed in surprise as she stumbles over her words
Eventually she trails off, her cheeks as red as her dress, when you smile softly, and hold up a bouquet
She didn’t even notice it in your hands, but seeing it now, how could she have possibly missed it?????
A little bummed that you bought the bouquet first, but then again, this is the universe we’re talking about, she can’t complain about its methods
Certainly not when you’re carefully kissing her cheek and placing the flowers in her hands
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