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its-real · 3 years

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I was going to wait until I had finished doing all the concept sketches for this but uh, I’m lazy so here take it as it is I’ll keep adding surely surely.

-LONG POST-

AU where the hermits fall into the boatem hole with no way to fly out because of some event that happens - maybe an apocalypse, maybe everyone just goes apeshit, who knows - and they all get messed up heads from falling in the void and passing out n fun stuff like that. They ‘land’ - idk how this would work without them dying lol - in a semi futuristic city which for now let’s just call it Boateqm (silent q). The hermit crabs would also fall at different rates therefore appear in the city at different times. So where do they end up?

Hospital gang:

Etho wakes up in a hospital bed with no memories - most of them will wake up with no memories btw - his doctor/nurse (this hospital may be understaffed) Tango asks him a bunch of questions then has to go see another patient. Etho is seen by a certain Bdubs who had just finished visiting his buddy Scar -will get to him next- in the bed next door. Bdubs walks back to notify Scar, a fashion designer, that the guy in the bed across would make a great model, just look at the striking hair! And the red eye! He opens the curtains on the side and Scar gets a look. He asks if Etho would like to be hired. Etho is to say the least very confused and on the verge of a panic attack that never quite seems to happen so he’s in a weird kind of limbo anyway it is now that his doctor/nurse Tango comes back and having overheard the conversation suggests it would be a good idea. The hospital can only take custody of Etho for so long, might as well start earning money now so he doesn’t become homeless. Etho is still very confused. So Tango just agrees to the job for him as his caretaker lol, and besides Scar comes here kinda often so Tango trusts him. Anyway Etho’s true passions he discovers are synthesisers, breeding horses with Bdubs and finding elaborate ways to do tax evasion. A simple man.

Scar is in the hospital because he got SCAR (hehe) from walking into a glass door in his super fancy house, which he owns because he’s a super fucking rich fashion designer of his own label Scara (this is not the first time he’s walked into a glass door). Scar refuses to go to a rich people hospital tho cause 1) he cares about healthcare and wants more funds to go to lower grade hospitals 2) Tango is his mate, and needs a goddam raise. But yeah, very successful, ran for mayor once but someone really didn’t like that which resulted in another hospital visit. Mans in the wars. One hospital visit he got really inspired by the fabric and stuff there so he had a line of clothes that were hospital inspired one time, in turn making hospital inspired garb very trendy for a bit. What a mad lad. Ideas man. Some would call him a genius if he didn’t keep on walking into glass doors n shit. Scar woke up in the back room of a small tailoring shop owned by a nice old couple who took him under their wing. He thanks them in every award speech, and whenever he’s in the area make sure to stop by and give them presents. His side hobby is gardening.

When Tango came to, he was lying on the footpath of a quiet street in the suburbs just out from the main city. Gorgeous day, golden hour, pretty houses, very aesthetic. He also had a leg injury, fuck. So Tango did what anyone would do: hobbled to the nearest house, asked in the nicest way he could under a lot of stress (so he kinda yelled) for a first aid kit, and performed surgery on himself atop the nice families dinner table. The nice family turned out to have called the police and an ambulance, who showed up just as Tango was wrapping up his leg with a bandage and took him away to the police on a stretcher. This debacle got him a leading story on the local newspaper: ‘Man performs surgery on himself after waking up with no memories and a leg injury’. After being questioned by the police, they decide they can’t really charge someone with amnesia and no money with anything like breaking and entering (he did knock and they did let him in) or property damage (blood on the carpet). The paramedics are stunned at his surgery, so they tell the police to take him to the nearest hospital and get him hired there, he could save so many lives. He gets hired by the head doctor after an examination of the surgery. The head doctor doesn’t really care that Tango doesn’t have any records or anything, the hospital is understaffed and Tango seems like an Angel sent down from the heavens to him. Tango is very very good at his job. So good that he gets offered a job at a far better paying hospital which he takes, then soon drops because he prefers the chaos of his old job much better.

Tango found Impulse extremely dehydrated, looking like death, wandering outside his flat one night, so he carried the man inside and saved his life. Now they are flat mates, and Impulse works in a tech store - an upgrade from working at a service station previously.

Bdubs woke up in an inner city park at night, homeless, broke, and in the company of other homeless and broke people. He built his way to success, got luckily hired by some rich asshole to mow their lawns plural - the rich asshole didn’t ask much questions, he just saw a poor man criticising the way a park had been landscaped to an old guy in a caravan and though it was good enough, seeing as the last one quit - and Bdubs didn’t mind too much, because the rich assholes property was really gorgeous. Once Bdubs was able to say he had work experience and wasn’t homeless he started babysitting the kids in the neighbourhood, pretty good money. Plus the kids love him, and everyone he meets loves him, he's just a nice guy. He met Scar because he had to purchase a suit for a kids birthday party, so he went to the cute little tailors shop he always walked past on the way to his favourite cute little gardening supplies shop. By now Bdubs had been promoted to part time gardener - the job is shared - and started working on and off at a building firm. They become besties, turns out Scar is also really into gardening etc etc. Eventually Bdubs becomes an architect, mainly designing for city contractors n such but occasionally designer homes, like the one he did for Scar.

Mumbo and Grian wake up in the hospital around the same time that Etho is still there, however Etho has been awake longer, and should really find a place to stay soon now that he’s got a steady job. Since - ok plot point here - the two are in the exact situation that Etho found himself in, he starts to feel like something weird is going on. Mumbo and Grian take a lot longer to recover than Etho did, and the two become hospital bed neighbor buddies. When they finally recover Scar offers them a temporary place to stay at his house while they find work. Tango gets Impulse to put in a good word for Mumbo at his work.

Nomads:

TFC is an old man who lives in a caravan off the money he made being a very successful miner, he now collects pretty shiny rocks and gems and stuff to give to kids. He’s like an all year round caravan Santa and wise old mystical figure. Dope.

Joe is a humble man who likes to wander. He’s never had a home, but if he needs anything he’ll go to TFC’s caravan or a homeless shelter or something. But he isn’t sad or anything, he really likes the freedom of being a simple wanderer.

Others:

Keralis is a business partner of Bdubs. Kerlalis is mega stonks. He was one of the first to land, had a big diamond in his pocket, bought shares in a company that blew up soon after and now he is really fucking rich.

Doc and Ren are the only ones who remember anything, and they arrive at the same time. Doc manages to keep his cool, but Ren loses his shit and gets thrown in a mental institution. Doc spends some time trying to get Ren out, and after a final success and laying low for a bit the two seek to bring all the hermits together.

Pearl ends up working in Bdubs building company.

Beef works in a music shop -sells records and instruments- and he starts up a record label out back after his boss retires and passes the shop onto him.

And yeah I don’t really know the other Hermits that well was hoping some of ya’ll could help me find places for them in this city :) don’t really know how to format this either so maybe some input would be nice, just wanted to get the idea out hehehe

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shyficwriter · 3 years

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Temporary Home: Chapter 1

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Nick Fury and Maria Hill

Summary: The Guardians have pissed off some really dangerous people and need to lie low. Apparently your home is the perfect place to keep them, according to Fury.

Part 2 Here

Author’s Note: This will be multiple chapters, I already have so many scenes for this in my head. I hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 6,610

You had been called into a sudden emergency meeting one afternoon, and walked in expecting to be sent on perhaps an urgent but still run-of-the-mill mission, or briefed on a sudden change to an existing case. You didn't expect to essentially become the babysitter for eight aliens. Well, one of them was human, but still.

You waited in the briefing room with five other agents and Maria Hill. One of your fellow agents, you thought her name was Stacy, tried asking what the meeting was about, and Maria would only reply to wait for Fury, and that he should be there soon.

Admittedly that made you a little nervous. It wasn't often that you didn't get any information before a meeting, but you tried not to think too much into it.

Fury arrived a few minutes later followed by six people you had never seen before.

Two of the men looked normal enough- that is to say, human- but they were the only two. One with red hair and another with strange tattoos on his neck. Then there was a large shirtless greenish/greyish man with what looked at first glance to be many swirly red tattoos covering his body. He had what you thought was a raccoon holding a wooden doll sitting on his shoulder, until the raccoon jumped down onto the table and you saw that not only did the raccoon walk upright, but the "wooden doll" was actually alive, and walked around as well when set upon the table. The other man was a rough looking type, and he was as blue as the sky with what appeared to be a red metal mow-hawk. There were two women with them as well, a taller green one who looked like she could kill you without blinking, and a smaller paler one with antennae who actually looked kinda scared to be there, as she was all but hiding behind the larger shirtless man.

Now, with your line of work you were of course aware of the reality of aliens, but these were actually the first you'd seen up close other than some of the Skrull people Fury worked with.

This group, however, seemed a little... dysfunctional. The red haired man said something snarky to the raccoon, and to your surprise the raccoon spoke back, saying something equally snarky in return before snapping at the red haired man's hand. The man then mimed smacking the raccoon across the room only to then be smacked in the back of the head by the green woman, earning snickers from both neck-tattoo guy and the blue man.

Fury loudly plopped a folder on the table and looked at the group sternly, prompting them to silence. He then turned to you and your fellow agents. "You're probably wondering why I called you all here." Not waiting for an answer he continued, "In simplest terms, we need to provide sanctuary for this lot because they went and pissed off some very dangerous people, and the Nova Corps urgently insists that they need protection."

An agent to your right, you didn't know his name, spoke up. "Then why aren't they hiding them? Why pawn them on us?"

"This is their way of hiding them. Earth is considered primitive by the rest of the galaxy's standards. We have virtually no contact outside this planet, and Nova figured this would be one of the last places anyone might look. Buy them some time to diffuse the situation with the people after these guys before they blow them to pieces."

For seemingly no reason, the red haired man then flicked the raccoon, only to fall on his ass when the raccoon lunged at him, receiving many annoyed looks from the rest of the group.

The same agent spoke again, confusion on his face. "Pardon me, but why is this Nova Corps putting all this effort into hiding... them?" The inflection was clear. What was so special about these dumbasses?

Fury, after witnessing the buffoonery, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, in addition to them being idiots." He punctuated the sentence with a sharp look toward the group, making the man and raccoon attempt to straighten up. "They've also managed to save the galaxy on more than one occasion. Nova is understandably less than willing to see them come to deadly harm. This is where you come in. We can't keep them here, so we need agents who can house them until everything blows over. Now, we're considering dividing them them among the five of you-"

"Wait! Whoa whoa whoa! You never said we'd be split up! We're a team! You can't split us up!" cried the red haired man. The rest of the group seemed agitated as well, and started to argue with Fury.

You heard a couple agents to your left whispering that they were in no way going to house any of them, and you couldn't help but agree as you watched the scene in front of you.

The blue man had the red haired man by the arm, irritably telling the younger to "Calm down, boy!" as the red haired man tried to pull away, yelling and pointing at Fury about how "This wasn't the deal!" The green woman was also yelling at the red haired man, something about having no choice if they wanted everyone to be safe, as the neck-tattoo guy just stood there, almost as if he didn't know whether to be angry or sad. The woman with the antennae looked even more frightened, now burying her face into the chest of the large tattooed man while he simultaneously patted her head comfortingly and somehow also managed a deadly look at your director. The raccoon had now hopped back on the table to comfort the little wooden creature, which was now crying, soothing it and saying, "It's ok, buddy, I'm not gonna let them separate us, I promise. Look at me, it's gonna be fine."

That's all it took, and you cursed yourself.

You rubbed a hand down your face. Damn it. "I'll do it." you said, voice raised just loud enough to be heard over the commotion.

Loud enough to capture Fury's attention. He turned away from the now quieting group and shared a brief look with Agent Hill. "What was that?"

You sighed, a voice in your mind yelling at you to reconsider. "I've got a place. Out of the way." Wait, what the hell are you doing? "I can take them." No. Turn back! It's not too late! "I mean, people will have to double up in the bedrooms, but I have the space to take them all." Dammit! What's wrong with you!?

Fury nodded. "Where do you live?"

"In the interest of security, sir, I think that's a conversation best had in private."

Fury smiled. "Good answer."

***

After Fury dismissed the other agents and discussed the whereabouts of your home and its security, he surprised you by declaring that you'd all be leaving within the hour.

You were taken a bit aback, having assumed you'd have some time to prepare, but agreed, assuming that time must be of the essence. Preparations could be made as you went, you supposed.

The ride to your home was a bit awkward, to be honest. Fury split the group between your car and a larger black SUV that he would be driving. In your vehicle you transported the red haired man and the green woman, who's names you learned were Peter and Gamora, along with agent Maria Hill in the front passenger seat. You assumed she had been assigned to ride with you rather than Fury for security purposes, but you didn't ask. Fury transported the rest, which you were sure would have been an interesting ride to say the least.

Your journey, however, was quite quiet. Peter kept trying to make conversation, but it never went much further than a couple-word answers from you or Maria. Reason being that you honestly just didn't know what to say, and you weren't exactly the most open book, and you'd never known Maria to be much of a conversationalist while on the job, though you two usually got on pretty well together.

Your home was an old double storey stone farmhouse set in the countryside, miles away from the nearest house, and even further away from the nearest town. The back of the property was a decent sized lot that emptied into a forest that also shielded around the sides, and at the front there were hedges and tall trees blocking the property from the sight of nearest road. It was easy to miss if you didn't know where to find the drive path that turned off the main road and winded up to the house. For all intents and purposes, to any average person taking a country drive, it was as if it wasn't even there, lost among the vast amount of trees.

Therefore, when you did finally arrive at your home a good bit later, you were more than surprised to find three black vans already parked in your drive. You were first alarmed, worried that somehow your location had already been compromised. You stayed behind the wheel for a moment, unsure of what to do, until you looked in the rearview mirror to see Fury and his lot exiting his vehicle. You looked to Maria in confusion.

"Yeah, there may be a bit more you need to be briefed on." she said in reply to a question that hadn't left your lips, smiling apologetically.

You got out of your car, followed by the rest of your passengers, and walked over to Fury who was standing in front of his passengers as they stared up at their new (hopefully) temporary lodging.

"What's going on here?" you asked when you reached him, gesturing to the men coming out of your house.

"Slow workmanship. They should have been done and gone 30 minutes ago." Fury said flatly, gazing at a man who nodded apologetically to the director and spoke into his walkie for his men to wrap up.

"Fury-" you say, your tone unamused.

"Agent Hill was supposed to brief you on the way over." he said, looking past you to Maria with a raised eyebrow.

"I considered that it might be better to wait until we reached the destination, sir, rather than inside of a moving vehicle, considering."

Fury half nodded as if in agreement, then turned to look back at your home. "We already scoped your place out a week ago. You're right, it was nearly the perfect place."

"Excuse me?" you say, eyes widening in confusion and surprise. What the hell did he mean he had already scoped it out a week prior? You had been under the impression these people had just been spontaneously dropped in Fury's lap.

"Your home," he said as if that would clarify things. "We had already looked into it, and other than needing a few adjustments, it was the perfect safe house to hide them."

"You- How-" you sputtered. You took a moment to gather your thoughts. "You mean to tell me that this was all already decided before you ever called that meeting?"

"Of course. It would have been irresponsible to drop them off at the first place we found."

"Then why call the meeting? Why the damn charade if this wasn't really my choice?" You were fighting not to raise your voice too much, but it still came out irritated. You threw an accusatory glance at the group, who were clearly listening in on the conversation, not like you had been quiet enough for them not to hear if they hadn't been. "Were you lot in on this?"

Peter held up his hands and shook his head defensively, as did a few of the others. You only narrowed your eyes and turned back to Fury as he spoke.

"Oh, you always had a choice, I just wanted to make sure you'd be willing." Fury said calmly, only now turning to look at you. "I knew you'd say yes."

"How could you possibly know I'd say yes!?"

"Well you did, didn't you?" You could almost hear laughter in his voice. The fucker practically seemed pleased with himself. You could feel your blood boiling.

"Oh yeah? How do you know I won't take it back after this stunt?"

Fury turned back to watch the vans turn around to exit the drive. "You won't. I know that well enough."

"How can you be so sure?" you say defiantly.

The Guardians look to each other worriedly. What if you did take it back because this Fury guy pissed you off? Would they have to be separated? Would they have to find a whole new planet to hide on?

Yondu eyed you as you asked your director how he was sure you wouldn't take back your offer, expecting him to say that he would be paying you too much to refuse, but he didn't expect the answer that actually came out of Fury's mouth.

"Because you offered with asking how you'd be compensated, and you still haven't asked. That, and I read your face like an open book." He now grinned as he looked at you, saying much softer, "You don't have it in you to turn them away."

You felt your face grow hot and you stuttered a bit before looking up at the sky in defeat, sighing at the darkening clouds beginning to gather overhead, a testament to your torment, to be sure. "Fine." you say. Suddenly remembering what he said, you looked back at him, "What did you mean by adjustments?"

Maria smiled at Fury as she placed a hand on your back and guided you towards the door. The other's followed.

"I know this seems like an intrusion, but we promise we didn't hurt anything. We simply added a couple beds, stocked the pantry, and updated the plumbing and wiring."

"The plumbing was fine," you grumbled, "and I was working on the wiring."

"Your home is just over 200 years old. The plumbing might have been fine when it was just you here, but now you'll be housing eight other people. I think you can understand why we would consider improving it." Fury stated, almost like a reprimand to your stubbornness. You eye him, wondering how he could know how old your home was, but you supposed he knew that the same way he knew where to find your home a week before you ever told him where it was.

Because he was Fury.

Looks were exchanged among the Guardians as they entered the home behind you, surprised to hear of the age of your home to see it in such nice condition. Though, if you had been living here they supposed it shouldn't have come to much surprise that you would have cared for it.

The front door opened up to a large hall featuring a staircase to the left. On either side of the entrance were two more doors.

Maria lead you all through the door on the right into the kitchen to briefly show they had stocked the pantry with some foods they, The Guardians as you heard them referred to as, were used to, to make the transition to Earth foods easier. They would be making bi-weekly supply drops to your home to keep the pantry stocked to feed all of them, but the food would soon be coming only from Earth, as it would be both expensive, and a possible security risk to try and keep importing foods from outer space.

You all then exited the kitchen and travelled up the stairs while Maria explained that everyone's bags had already been placed in the rooms based on what they assumed would be the correct sleeping arrangements. Of course, everyone was free to switch it up at their discretion. Once at the top of the stairs you instinctually step forward and reach up to pull the string for the light, as the hall was a bit dim due to the fading light outside, but you find it missing.

"Where the hell did-" you think softly out loud, looking up to see the whole fixture had been changed. The light then came on by itself and embarrassingly resulted in you startling in surprise. You turn to see Fury grinning slightly while shaking his head, his finger still near a switch that definitely wasn't there before you left the house that morning.

"Man, they weren't kidding when they said you Terran types were primitive, eh Pete?"

You shot the raccoon an offended look before Fury reminded you that they had updated your wiring. You blushed and looked at the new switch suspiciously, wondering how they managed to rewire your house so quickly without destroying the walls, but resisted the urge to sarcastically accuse him of witchcraft lest you give these 'Guardians' the idea that you were actually scared of electricity. Not that you cared what they thought, or anything.

Maria motioned to the first door on the left of the landing, and said to you that they naturally assumed it was the one you slept in, as it appeared to be the only one currently being inhabited. You nodded that she was correct and she continued, opening the door and informing you that they had added an extra bed and had placed Mantis's bag inside. She pointed to the woman with the antennae, indicating that's who she was referring to.

You silently nod again, a gesture that you were accepting of this arrangement. Of everything else they had done, this was one of the lesser intrusive things, next to the pantry. The woman seemed like one of the least annoying of the bunch, so you weren't going to argue. Could be worse. They could have put the raccoon or the dude with red hair in there.

You didn't see, but Mantis let out a sigh of relief at this knowledge that you weren't going to be angry about sharing your room with her. Her mood immediately brightened, convinced she was about to make a new friend.

You peeked into the room as the others pushed forward with Maria. Inside was your wooden framed single sized bed, only now pressed against the right side of the room from where it had previously been centered beneath the window. A new bed had now been set up on the left side of the room, opposite corner from your own, to leave clearance for the attic door. This bed was a black metal framed single, already fitted with grey and white sheets.

You naturally assumed Fury's team decided to add similar beds to the other rooms while also making use of the remaining beds that were already there, and so you didn't follow the others to see. You didn't really care to see, hadn't been in those rooms much in years for a reason.

You just crossed your arms and leaned to rest back against your doorframe and watched on as Maria sorted them into the rooms and Fury took to standing in the corner opposite of you, watching everything.

Fury's team had apparently placed the belongings of the blue man and the man with the neck tattoos in the room directly across from your own, and you learned their names were Yondu and Kraglin, respectively.

They placed the large man, raccoon, and wooden child all in the room further down at the end of the landing on that side, and you learned the large man was called Drax, the raccoon was Rocket, and the tiny wooden child was Groot. Something twisted in your belly seeing the little wooden child shyly peek into the room from atop Drax's shoulder, but you forced it down. No time to think about who previously owned that room right now.

The raccoon could be heard complaining, "You're seriously gonna make me sleep in a crib?"

The twisting came back, and you looked at Fury, ignoring the snickers and banter from the raccoon's friends as they both teased him for his misfortune and told him to get over it.

"We might have taken advantage of some furniture in the attic." Fury said, shrugging.

"It was locked." you say, your eyes narrowed. How would he even know to look up there? Did they literally go through your entire house when they 'scouted' it?

"So was the front door."

You sigh bitterly, only eyeing him in response.

"Is there a problem?" Fury asked, not altogether sincerely.

You shake your head and break his gaze. "It's fine."

Directly across from the previous room, Maria informed the ones you now knew as Gamora and Peter that that's where their belongings had been placed, Maria stating that they hoped they weren't being forward in assuming the pair were a couple. Gamora only nodded and said it was fine, while Peter gave her a cheeky grin that made her roll her eyes. Them being in that particular room meant you'd be sharing a wall with them, and with the knowledge that they were a couple you hopped it wouldn't mean you'd wind hearing any... 'special' noises at night while you were trying to sleep.

Once everyone knew where they'd be sleeping and seemed happy enough with the pre-arranged sleeping arrangements courtesy of who you were now mentally dubbing Intruder Fury, neck tattoo man-Kraglin- looked at Maria and asked where the restroom happened to be.

You lowered a hand from where it had previously been crossed over your chest and rapped twice on the wall, getting his attention, and pointed to the only still closed door to your left, centered in the wall across from the opening to the stairs.

He nodded in thanks, seeming slightly embarrassed that he had forgotten that this was, in fact, your house and not Intruder Fury's or Co-Intruder Hill's.

Fury gave you an unimpressed look that you read as, "Use your words." and you spoke up saying there was another bathroom downstairs if anyone else needed it. Peter spoke up saying that he could use it, and so you nodded your head towards the stairs in a "come on then" gesture and lead him as well a couple others downstairs to point where it was, down the hall towards the back of the house, past the kitchen. It was the only door at the end the hall that could be seen from where you stood, so he couldn't miss it.

Maria and Fury met you at the bottom of the stairs behind the rest of the Guardians, sans Kraglin of course.

"We trust everyone will settle in nicely," Fury said, turning a pointed look at the Guardians as he said "and will be on their best behavior." This earned a few nods from the group and he then turned to you, adding almost jokingly, "Would you like to finish the tour?"

You pointed towards the kitchen and spoke flatly, "Food's in there, so is laundry," you pointed towards the bathroom Peter had disappeared into, "Shower and toilet's in there," you pointed upstairs, "Sleep's up there," you opened the door to your left, the only room not yet explored that you were willing to open, and pointed inside, "Sitting room is in there. Watch TV, read, knock yourselves out."

Fury spoke first. "I get the way we went about this situation may seem less than ideal to you, but I assure you there's no need to be testy."

"I have every right to be 'testy.' You couldn't have just asked? If you really somehow already knew I'd say yes than why go through all-" you waved your hands around, trying to find the words, "You had to go and be all... you?!" There was an edge to your voice that drove the message. He had manipulated you, if that were even the right word for it. He had this all planned out in advance, made you a puzzle piece, you fell right where he said he knew you would, and you were meant to what? Smile about it?

"I could have," he conceded, looking thoughtful, "But that's not how I do things."

"You shook your head. You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

Fury only nodded once in response before asking, "Do you have any further questions?"

You look out the door window briefly to see the clouds had gotten much darker. "Looks like rain, director. Better hurry, wouldn't want you to get wet." The edge to your voice got sharper. Fury simply nodded with a half smile. Message received. Get out.

The Guardians, who hadn't gotten your hint to go shoo off someplace, remain stood in the hall, glancing at each other awkwardly. It surprised them that a man like Fury, and the way he seemed to be, would be seemingly so cool with the way you were speaking to him.

You spoke again as he reached for the door. "See you tomorrow. Ottawa case, right?"

Fury stopped. "Actually no. You won't be coming in tomorrow."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You've been moved off that case to this one, we won't be shipping you off to Canada. In fact, you're off all further cases for the foreseeable future."

"Am I being punished for something, sir?" you ask, the edge still not having left your voice, but it was now softened by confusion.

"No." Fury replied, "If anything, consider it a vacation."

"I did not ask for a vacation, sir." you say, trying to bite back the irritation in your voice. "I have no desire to just stay home."

Maria looked at Fury with a 'told-you-so' expression, stating to him that she had known you wouldn't have taken this well.

Fury looked at you firmly. "You're due for one, and we need someone to stay and guard them. You already live here, they're staying here- Two birds, one stone."

Your face hardened in indignation. "So I'm a babysitter now? Look, if you're retiring me just say so."

The Guardians still stood there awkwardly, Kraglin finally coming down the stairs to quietly join them, eyes wide and wondering where all the tension had come from. Maria tilted her head toward the sitting room, hoping they might get the hint. They did, awkwardly backing into the room, not wishing to interrupt your argument with Fury.

"You're not being retired-"

"Good. Then I can keep working. There's literally no reason why I need to stay home."

"You haven't taken a vacation in five years." Fury said, the authoritative tone in his voice rising, "This isn't a request. It's an order."

Peter then exists the bathroom, saying "What did I miss-" and almost shrinking back inside when he notices his friends are gone and the tense looks between you and Fury. Mercifully, Agent Hill gestures him to the sitting room and he sidesteps his way past while you ignore him, too focused on trying to burn Fury with your eyes.

Knowing you had no options and could make no further arguments, you angrily yielded. "Yes, sir." you say bitterly.

"That's better. If you need anything you know how to contact me or Agent Hill." With that he bid you goodbye and opened the door.

It was now beginning to rain outside.

"Warned you about that rain." you snarked as he made his way out the door.

***

Agent Hill looked at Fury as they entered his vehicle, the rain coming down harder now.

"Stubborn as hell, that one." Fury remarked, turning his key in the ignition.

Maria agreed, but also stated she thought this might be good for you as they drove away.

***

You stood there in the hall for a good moment before Gamora asked if everything was ok from the doorway of the sitting room. You looked at her, and she went on to apologize for their intrusion in your home but also said they were grateful you allowed them to stay.

She started to say something else, probably was going to be more apologies border-lining on 'please don't change your mind,' but you raised your hand and cut her off, "Don't worry about it. It's not you guy's fault he's an asshole," you say. You look at her and you can see she is tired, probably both from lack of sleep and worry. You try to be more gentle. "Look, it's fine. Just... settle in. I know it's late, but there's food in the kitchen if you guys are hungry, I'm- I'm gonna go clean something." You break eye contact and head into the kitchen, sure there was at least a plate or glass in the sink you could tend to.

Sure, enough, once you got to the sink you noticed a few dishes from the morning, and so you turned on the tap. You decided cold water was good enough, not feeling like waiting for the immersion to heat up, but you turned the knob for the hot water anyway out of habit. Realizing you had thrown the old dish rag in the laundry without replacing it, you allowed the water to run while you searched the drawer for another.

You heard footsteps entering the kitchen as you returned to the sink, and assume someone must have finally decided they were hungry. Not turning to greet whoever it was, you absently run the cloth under the tap to get it wet- only to immediately rip it back with a, "g-OW! Damn! Fuck!"

You doubled over, holding your burning hand.

"You ok? What happened?"

You look up, squinting through pain, to see Drax had asked the question, standing in the doorway with Mantis and Gamora, the little tree child sitting on her shoulder.

You breathed. "Yeah. One of those fuckers must have turned the immersion on and left it." You straighten yourself, your hand still smarted but you knew it'd be alright, and turned off the tap with the dishrag. "I'll check it out."

You exit the kitchen through the other door at the far end of the room to check the hot press to the right of the cellar door behind the stairs, intent to turn the immersion off, and bitterly wondering just how long it had been left on for. However, once you opened the door your immersion was nowhere to be seen. You stared in confusion at the new pipes that now ran straight through the floor into the cellar before noticing a note taped to the back wall that only said "Upgraded to boiler. Check basement. ♡ Maria."

You narrowed your eyes and opened the cellar door, already pulling out your phone as you descended the stairs. You quickly located this new boiler fairly quickly. It was cylindrical in shape and black in color, and much larger than your previous heating unit, probably why it was now in the cellar. You dialed the phone, the first word out of your mouth when you got an answer was simply, "Why?"

***

The other guardians in the sitting room had also heard your swearing and peeked out of the room just in time to see you walking very cranky-like across the hall. They looked at the three standing in the kitchen doorway and they only shrugged in response to their quizzical glances.

Curious, and hearing you walk down the stairs, Peter and Kraglin tiptoed over to the Cellar door to see what was going on, standing just off from the door. They caught bits of your end of the conversation.

"Why?" ...

"Well, yes I can understand that, but-" ...

"Well you could have warned me! I just about burned my hand off!" ...

"Fine. How does it work?" ...

"No, I'm not going to-" ...

"Yes, I know they-" ...

"You know what, I'll figure it out. Bye."

They hear you start to climb the steps and scurry back to the sitting room, not wishing to make it apparent they were eavesdropping on their new host.

You re-enter the kitchen and grab a glass of milk to soothe your nerves, seeing as it was now raining buckets and you couldn't be bothered for a walk as you would have preferred.

You sit at the table and look to see the three still standing in the doorway. You raise an eyebrow. "You alright there?" Thinking bizarrely that they must be shy you gesture towards the pantry. "Food's over there if you're hungry."

Drax merely shrugged and took up the offer, guiding Mantis over with him, but not before accepting Groot from Gamora.

Gamora stepped towards the table and took a seat across from you. "I couldn't help but notice you seem less than happy about this arrangement, I'm sorry-"

You cut her off once again. "Don't be sorry. I already told you it's not your fault Fury can be a dick. It's just a lot of new all at once and I wasn't expecting it. You're fine." You take another sip of milk, finally realizing what it was that she was actually afraid of. "You don't need to be scared that I'll send you back or anything."

She actually seemed to relax a bit. "Thank you. If there's anything-"

You set your glass on the table and fold your hands. Sentiment made you uncomfortable. "Look, as long as you guys clean up after yourselves and don't destroy my home, we're fine." Looking for a change of subject you said, "Why don't you introduce the rest of your friends. It couldn't hurt to get to know you a little."

Gamora smiled slightly. "Well, that's Drax and Mantis." she said, pointing to the two who were now coming back to sit down with their snacks. "And this is Groot," she added once Mantis sat the child on the table.

You smiled. "Cute little bugger, isn't he?"

"I am Groot!" he said excitedly, taking a bite of a food you didn't recognize. Must have been one of those outer-space types.

"Hello, Groot. How are you?"

"I am Groot."

You raised an eyebrow. "Um.." Maybe he misunderstood you?

Before you could ask again, Drax speaks up. "That's all he can say. He means he's ok."

"Oh." You nod slightly and take a sip of your milk, bemused. "I see."

The four of you conversed for a little bit. You learned that Drax liked knives, and he seemingly took everything very literally. Mantis was sweet, and she was convinced you two would be friends. She also said she was excited to share a room with you, because it would be like a sleepover. Gamora gave you a smile that seemed to say "forgive her," but you honestly weren't too bothered. It was almost sweet. Before you could ask about Gamora though, she stood up and asked if you'd like to meet the others.

You shrugged and nodded, placing your now empty glass in the sink before following her out to the sitting room where the other men were.

You walked in and saw Peter sitting in an armchair listening to a music player, seemingly ignoring the other two men as they stood looking weirdly at the TV. The blue man tilted his head at it, a hand to his chin in thought, while the other waved his arms slowly in front of it saying, "I dunno. Maybe it's broken?" He looked ridiculous.

You stifle a laugh and asked, "What are you doing?"

They turn to you, the blue man speaks. "Tryin' to figure out how to turn on this Terran TV of yers. Rat says they're motion activated, but nothin' we do is workin.'"

You give him a strange look. "Motion-? No- You just use the remote."

Then you hear a snickering and find it's coming from the raccoon, perched on the back of the couch. "Rocket." Gamora says in a mix of scolding and accusation, and he starts laughing harder, jumping down on the cushions to retrieve the controller from between them. "You guys looked so stupid! Ahaha!"

Yondu glares and Kraglin snatches the remote, flipping the television on and raising his hands in an annoyed "There we go!" gesture, sharing an annoyed look with Yondu at Rocket.

You motion to one of the game controllers on the coffee table, stating they'd want to use one of those if they wanted to actually watch something, as the first controller only turned the TV on.

Before you could offer to show them how to use Netflix, Gamora started introducing the remaining guardians.

Peter removed his earbuds and greeted you, standing to shake your hand, only to be shot down by you saying there was no need to be so formal, keeping to yourself the fact that despite working for Fury, you hated formal with a passion. He held up his hands and sat back down. "No problem there. We're probably the least formal people you can get." he said with a smile. You didn't see, but Gamora gave him a warning look that kept him from putting his feet up on the table.

The other two men and the raccoon seemed to agree with Peter, and nodded their greetings to you instead when introduced.

"Say, just curious, but how come it's just you living in this big ol' house by yerself?" came a question from Yondu.

You probably should have expected that question, but you didn't like it all the same. You were trying to decided if 'Don't worry about it' would be too rude of an answer when Peter notices the change in your expression and adds his own question out of fear that Yondu had offended you in some way. "How long have you been here? Fury said this place was old."

You chose to answer Peter's question instead. "Grew up here. House has been in the family since it was built."

"Oh. Cool." said Peter.

Not looking forward to any more possible questions about yourself you looked up to the clock and found your way out.

"Well, it's nearly ten, I think I'll turn in early." you say, excusing yourself.

Just then a loud thunderclap sounded and you heard a squeal from the kitchen.

"Kid scared of storms?" you ask, looking to Gamora.

The lights go out. You hear a scream.

"Nah, but apparently Bug is." says Yondu.

Realizing he likely meant Mantis, and that Mantis was your new roommate, you sigh. "I'll get a flashlight."

The lights flickered back on.

"Nevermind."

Everyone pretty much decided to go to bed after that, Mantis shyly shuffling into the bedroom a few minutes after you to retrieve some items from her bag and coming back dressed for bed as you scrolled through Tumblr, having already washed up and dressed for bed.

She crawled into her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Thunder cracked again and she whimpered. You honestly felt a little bad for her.

"Do... does this happen often?" she asked.

"The storm? No." you answered honestly. "It'll be over soon. Just try to sleep." You stand up to turn the light off but pause, turning back to the curled up form on the bed opposite of your own, your face softening. "Would you like me to leave a lamp on?"

Mantis nodded.

You click on your desk lamp before turning off the overhead light and crawling into your own bed. You heard her say goodnight to you from across the room.

"Night," you return, turning toward the wall.

They were an odd lot, a bit dysfunctional, but you decided they were ultimately harmless. 'This whole ordeal will be over before I know it,' you thought as you closed your eyes.

You'd find out soon enough that you thought wrong.

#gotg #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #yondu udonta #kraglin obfonteri #peter quill #star lord #gamora #baby groot #mantis #drax the destroyer #nick fury #witness protection #fugitives #hiding #rocket raccoon

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davidmann95 · 4 years

Note

How about those JL storyboards?

In case you haven’t heard, Zack Snyder is putting on display the ‘storyboards’ - i.e. a rough plot summary accompanied by some Jim Lee sketches - for what would have been Justice League 2 and 3, or as this puts it 2 and ‘2A’. You can see them here (I imagine better-quality versions will soon be released), and read a transcript here. This is evidently a very early version: this was apparently pitched prior to the release of BvS and Justice League being rewritten in the wake of it, with numerous plot details that now don’t line up with what we know about the Snyder Cut, plus it outright mentions it builds on the originally planned versions of the Batman and Flash movies. But it’s a broad outline of what was gonna go down, and while I initially thought it was Snyder throwing in the towel, the timing - paired with the ambiguity left by the necessity for changes, including that this doesn’t factor whatever that “massive cliffhanger” at the end of the Cut is - says to me he’s hoping this’ll be a force multiplier behind efforts to will sequel/s into existence. He’s probably right.

I’ll be discussing spoilers below, but in short: with this Zack Snyder has finally lived up to Alan Moore, in that like Twilight of the Superheroes I wouldn’t believe this was real as opposed to a shockingly on-point parody if not for direct, irrefutable evidence.

Doing some rapid-fire bullet points for this baby to kick us off:

* Folks who know the subject say a lot of this is a yet further continuation of Snyder doing Arthuriana fanfic with the League reskinned over those major players, and I’ll take their word for it.

* I don’t know whether I love or hate that in Justice League 2 the Justice League are only an extant thing for the first scene, and then it’s Snyder giving everybody their own mini-movies. It’s compressing the entire MCU “loosely interconnected solo stories leading to a single big movie later” strategy into a single movie!

* Funniest line in the whole thing: "Even Lantern has heard of the Kryptonian, worried that he's under the control of Darkseid. He heard his spirit was unbreakable." Hal what fuckin' Superman movie did YOU watch? Second funniest being “IT WILL GIVE HIM POWER OVER ALL LIVING LIFE”

* 90% of the plot I have nothing to say about, it’s generic stage-setting crap. That to be clear is the ‘shocked it’s Snyder’ element, it feels so crassly commercial in a way I can’t believe is coming from the BvS guy.

* Most of what I have to say is unsurprisingly gonna be about a handful of characters but Cyborg’s happy ending being “he isn’t visibly disabled anymore!” is not great!

* The Goddess of War battle with Superman...never pays off? No clue why it’s there.

* What I’d originally heard was that the Codex in Superman’s blood was the last key to the Anti-Life Equation and that’s why Darkseid was coming to Earth. It’s not like all of this wouldn’t have already been averted by Kal-El’s pod smacking into an asteroid on the way to Earth so it’s not as if this makes it any more Superman’s fault, and it would have at least tied all this back to the beginning of the movies, but I suppose that was either fake or from a later draft.

* I have NO idea how this was reimagined without the ‘love triangle’, it’s the central character thing and the entire climax flows directly out of it!

* Darkseid’s kinda a chump in this, huh

Anonymous said: So: Does Zack Snyder hate Superman?

Look: the hilarity of this when Cuck Kent has been a go-to Snyder cult insult towards ‘inferior’ takes on Superman for years cannot be understated, yet at the same time I can almost wrap my brain around where Snyder’s coming from with that as the end for his take on the character. He talked in that Variety piece on how his interest in Superman is informed by having adopted children himself, and Deborah Snyder is the stepmother to his kids by previous relationships, so I can see where he’d be coming from, and I can even imagine how he’d see this as ‘rhyming’ in the sense of “the series begins with Kal-El being adopted by Earth, it ends with him adopting a child of Earth!” In the same way as MARTHA, I can envision how he would put these pieces together in his head thematically without registering or caring what the end result would actually look like. In this case, Superman raising the kid of the man who beat the shit out of him who Batman had with Clark’s wife, who earlier told Bruce she was staying with Clark because he ‘needed her’, suggesting if inadvertently that this really honest to god was a “she’s only staying with Superman out of pity, she really loved Batman more” thing.

But Clark is nothing in this. He’s sad and existential because of coming back from the dead I guess, then he’s corrupted, then time’s undone and he woo-rah rallies the collective armies of the world (interesting angle for the ‘anti-military/anti-establishment’ Superman he’s talked up as) as his big heroic moment in the finale, and then he stops being sad because he’s adopting a kid. So his big much-ballyhooed, extremely necessary five-movie character arc towards truly becoming Superman was:

Sad weird kid -> sad weird kid learns he’s an alien, is still weird and sad, maybe he shouldn’t save people because things could go really wrong? -> his dad is so convinced it could go wrong he lets himself die -> ????? -> Clark is saving people anyway -> learns his origin, gets an inspiring speech about being a bridge between worlds and a costume -> becomes superman (not Superman, that’s later) to save the world, albeit a very property-damagey version, rejects his heritage he just learned about and space dad’s bridge idea -> folks hate him being superman and that sucks though at least he’s got a girlfriend now -> things go so wrong he considers not being superman but his ghost dad reminds him shit always goes wrong so he should be good anyway, which sorta feels like it contradicts his previous advice -> immediate renewed goodness is out the window as he’s blackmailed into having to try and kill a dude but the dude happens to coincidentally have some things in common so they don’t kill each other after all -> big monster now but superman keeps supermaning at it because he loves his girlfriend and he dies -> he’s brought back, wears black which apparently means now he likes Krypton again? -> he has work friends now but he’s still sad because he was dead -> evil now! -> wait nevermind time travel -> rallies the troops -> his wife’s having a kid so he’s not sad anymore -> Superman! Who gives way to more Batman.

Do I think Zack Snyder is lying when he says he likes Superman? No. I think he sincerely finds much of the basic conceits and imagery engaging. But I don’t think he meaningfully gives shit about Clark as a character, just a vessel for Big Iconic Beats he wants to hit. Whereas while for instance he’s critical of Batman as an idea (at least up to a point), he’s much more passionately, directly enamored with him as a presence and personality. So while Superman may be the character whose ostensible myth cycle or arc or however it’s spun might be propelling a lot of events here, it’s a distant appreciation - of course the other guy takes over and subsumes him into his own narrative. Of course Batman is the savior, the past and the future (though if he’s supposed to be Batman’s kid raised by Superman there’s no excuse for him not to be Nightwing), the tragic martyr to our potential. Admittedly the implication here is also that Batman can apparently only REALLY with his whole heart be willing to sacrifice his life to save an innocent, for that matter apparently his great love, once said innocent is a receptacle for his Bat-brood, but he and Clark are both already irredeemable pieces of shit by the end of BvS so it’s not like this even registers by comparison.

Anonymous said: That “plan” Snyder had was utter dogshit. Picture proof that DC & WB hate Superman. Also I love how you’re like Jor-El: Every single idealistic take you had about Snyder, his fandom, and BvS was wrong. Snyder’s an edgy hack, his fanbase just wants to jerk off to their edgy self-insert Batgod as he screams FUCK while mowing people down with machine guns, and the idea that BvS said Superman was better than Bats was completely wrong. You know what comes next SuperMann: Either you die or I do.

In the final analysis, beyond that mother of god is there sure no conceivable excuse for the treatment of Lois in this? The temptation is to join that anon and say as I originally tweeted that these were “built entirely to disabuse every single redemptive reading of the previous work and any notion of these movies as nuanced, artistic, self-reflective, or meaningful”.

...

...yeah, okay, that’s mostly right. Zack Snyder’s vision really was the vision of an edgelord idiot with bad ideas who was never going to build up to anything that would reframe it all as a sensible whole. He’s a sincere edgelord genuinely trying really hard with his bad ideas who put some of them together quite cleverly! But they’re fucking bad and the endgame was never anything more than ramping up into smashing the action figures together as big as he could, the political overtones and moral sketchiness of BvS while trying to say something in that movie reverberated through the grand scheme of his pentalogy in no way beyond giving his boys a big sad pit to rise out of so when they kicked ass later it’d rule harder, and all the gods among men questions and horror and trappings were only that: trappings. Apparently he’s really pleasant and well-meaning in person, but at his core his art as embodied in a couple weeks in his 4-hour R-rated Justice League movie meant to be seen in black-and-white all comes down to that time he yelled at someone on Twitter that he couldn’t appreciate Snyder’s work because it’s for grown-ups. He made half-clever, occasionally exciting shit cape movies for a bunch of corny pseudo-intellectual douchebags, folks latching onto and justifying blockbusters that at least acknowledge how horrifying the world is right now even if the superheroes are basically useless in the face of it if not outright part of the problem until a convenient alien invasion shows up to justify them, and a handful of non-asshole smart people who vibe with it but...well. ‘Suckered’ is a harsh word, and definitely doesn’t apply to all of them re: what they’ve gotten out of it up to this point and would (somehow) get out of this. But it doesn’t apply to none of them, either.

#Justice League #Zack Snyder #Superman #Batman #DCEU #Opinion

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iwillbeinmynest · 4 years

Text

Redcove Harvest - Bucky x Reader(f) Chapter 3

Authors Notes: Glad to know ya’ll are enjoying this! If you happen to really like it, please consider reblogging or commenting. It really helps me understand what parts you do or don’t like about my work. :)

AU: Farmhand AU and SingleMom!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k +

Notes/Warnings: (Notes are for the whole series) FLUFF, mentions of a past toxic relationship, a wild storm at the end, drama and a break-up, mentions of drinking, kids being adorable and ridiculous, kissing, romance and a tiny bit of angst if you look hard but nothing more than that of a Hallmark movie.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

The next week went without a hitch. Bucky would show up at eight, and get right to work mowing the fields. After day four, he had both front fields mowed. He spent the next two days repairing all the holes and broken parts of the fence that lined the front of the property. After that, he cleaned up the fence line by cutting down saplings and removing weeds and vines. He even fixed the mailbox that sat out by the dusty road.

This morning was supposed to be no different but as he pulled up to the house, thunder rumbled. He hopped out of his truck and grabbed his wide brimmed hat. He figured working in the rain might beat working in the early spring heat. He walked over to the tractor but before he could hop on, he heard her.

“Bucky!” She shouted from the porch.

He turned to see Y/N waving him over. He jogged her way and as he reached the steps, the rain started.

“What’s up?” He asked her.

“Well, I figured with the rain I could steal you for some barn work.”

“Oh,” He replied as he took his hat off. “Yeah, I mean I was still planning on mowing. I know you’ve got those three back fields that are still pretty high.”

She waved the thought away. “It’s okay. I know it will get done. I need to get the goat barn fixed up and the horse stables need some minor repairs.”

“Yeah, sure. Lead the way.”

Y/N walked with Bucky in the light rain down to the yellow barn a couple dozen yards from the back of the house.

He’d been there a few times when he needed to talk to her or grab a tool. The goat barn was actually an old horse stable; the entire right side of stalls had been turned into one large stall that connected to one of the three back fields and the left side was a gardening workshop. One of the left side stalls had been turned into a small greenhouse.

Next to the workbench, in the garden shop, there was a large storage bin. It was lit up red with a heat lamp and he heard the faint sound of peeping.

He walked over and, sure enough, there were at least a dozen little chicks running around or huddled under the lamp.

“When did you get these?” He asked. He crossed his arms and smiled back at her.

She stepped up beside him. “Yesterday. Steve had them ordered for me and they finally came in.”

“Nice.”

She shifted her weight and her arm brushed against his. She moved away and apologized.

“Doesn’t bother me.” He reassured her. He really had no problem making contact with her.

She cleared her throat and walked over to the large goat stall. “So,” she changed the subject. “There are several boards around this opening that leads to their pasture. I had a billy a year ago who was a menace and rammed into it all the time. I’m so glad I got rid of him.” She chuckled. “And, goodness, he stank!” She turned to Bucky, “Did you know Billy’s pee on their beards? Because I didn’t.” Her face twisted in disgust.

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I did know that.”

She huffed and grinned. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty new to this whole farm thing, so I’ve been learning as I go.” Y/N laughed at herself.

“New?” Bucky asked, surprised. “Looks like you’ve got a pretty good grip on it all.”

She shrugged lightly, “I mean, I didn’t start from scratch. This was Gavin’s family’s farm.” She paused then clarified, “Gavin was my husband’s name. He grew up here and when his parents passed, he got the farm. He did a lot of the clean up when we moved in and he purchased the livestock and foul. He even cared for most of them - the chickens have always been my thing, though.”

“What about the garden?” Bucky looked out the barn doors to the lush field full of greenery. The gentle rain was doing the day’s watering.

“That’s all me, too, but I only started gardening a few years ago.”

“Well, don’t sell yourself short. This is a lot of property, you’ve done a great job by yourself.” Bucky said as he opened the gate to the goat stall and stepped inside to examine the busted and rotting boards that needed replacing.

“I actually had a good bit of help.” She said as she leaned over the chick bin and pulled out the water dish. She went to the large sink near the workbench and began rinsing it of poop before she filled it back up. “After Gavin died, Steve came over and showed me the ins and outs of cows and goats for a month or two.”

That surprised him. Steve didn’t ever mention that.

“Yeah, and his friend, Nat, showed me how to garden.” Y/N put the water dish back and picked up the feed dish.

Bucky nodded to himself, “Nat has quite the green thumb for making gardeners.”

“That she does.” Y/N smiled as she returned the now full seed dish.

Bucky leaned over the gate and watched as Y/N tended to some seedlings that were on her work bench, spraying them with a squirt bottle. “So... can I ask what happened to Gavin?”

Y/N nodded but didn’t say anything and didn’t turn to face him, she just kept watering the little cupped sprouts.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s fine.” She turned to him with a somber look on her face. She took a deep breath and looked at Bucky. She wasn’t sure if she should say what she was thinking but, Gavin was dead, what was he gonna do about it?

“Gavin...was a jerk and a bully,” She started.

Bucky’s brows shot up but he kept listening.

“And what’s worse, he had no idea he was like that. He thought he was a great man- and sometimes, he was- but he had a habit of belittling people he didn’t agree with. It didn’t matter what, if he didn’t like it, you were stupid for thinkin’ it. He had his way of doing things and that was that, anything else wasn’t worth his time.” She crossed her arms and looked down at her boots. “I’m sure you’re wondering how I fell in love with a man like that but it was easy. I met him in high school. He wasn’t as bad then but I figure that’s because he was still growing and learning. It’s not an excuse, but he got it from his daddy. Compared to his dad, Gavin was a saint. Charles was as mean as he was stubborn and Gavin got the brunt of that growing up and he had no way of dealing with it other than doin’ the same stuff to other people. He didn’t do it to me until we were married and being that we were so young, I just thought it was a wife’s job to do what her husband said.”

Bucky swallowed and shifted his weight when she did the same, almost like they both broke out of the trance of story telling and listening.

“But there were good days. He wasn’t a monster. He could be really sweet, actually. He bought me the chickens after one of our fights, built me the fence around the garden after another. He never said sorry, he’d just build or buy me something. And I appreciated it. I really did love him.” Y/N suddenly realized that in her rant she’d never answered his question. She flushed, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on about it. I guess I should get to it,” she chuckled.

Bucky smiled at her from his spot on the gate. “It’s fine.”

She took a deep breath. “Um, Gavin fancied himself a great driver, no matter his state. So, he went out with his friends one night and got plastered. He got in the car to come home and drove it into a tree at one hundred and ten.”

Bucky cursed.

Y/N nodded. “He at least had the decency to put me in the will when we got the house, so.” She shrugged her shoulders.

Bucky scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I’m sorry about all of that.”

She smiled at him and Bucky got the sense she was only doing it for his sake.

“I was too for a while. But I’m...happy, now.” Her smile seemed more genuine when she said that.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He grinned at her.

Y/N looked at him for a moment before turning back to her plants.

Bucky also got back to work and they spent most of the morning like that, just working in silence. Bucky was even able to finish the woodwork in under two hours before he fixed a few breaks in the goat field fence.

Around noon, Y/N invited him up to the house for lunch and after he declined twice, she finally insisted.

Bucky was happy to go.

* * * * * * *

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#Bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky barnes #bucky series #farmhand! AU #farmhand! Bucky #red cove harvest #i wrote this #iwillbeinmynest #Bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #romance

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goldenraeofsun · 4 years

Text

Remember Me, Honeybee

Part I

Two hours into the farmers market, and Dean’s had enough. Even the gorgeous day outside, sunlight streaming down from a cloudless sky, does nothing for him.

Next to him in their produce stall, Sam rearranges their vegetable display with all the intensity of Bobby Fischer facing off against the Soviets. He adjusts an eggplant a few inches to the left, eyes it critically, and moves it back where it was.

Yesterday, Dean got sunburned from too many hours in the sun harvesting. But before he could even think about a shower, a visitor pounded on their door because some neighbor ratted them out to local Fish and Wildlife. So on top of dealing with a peeling forehead and an aching back, Dean had to take care of Ms. Rosen nearly breaking and entering to get at Sam or his watercress - she wasn’t really clear on which was her priority.

Sam, the cowardly sasquatch, bolted the moment her car tires pulled up to their farm.

It took an hour to get Ms. Rosen to leave. First, Dean had to show her Sam’s pet watercress plants at the edge of their property. According to Ms. Rosen, they’re an invasive species, which Sam could’ve mentioned to Dean at some point. Then, Ms. Rosen explained the $150 fine - all the while heavily implying she could dock a few bucks if left alone in a room with Sam.

Dean forked over the money. Sam’s virtue got to live to see another day.

At least Becky gave Dean plenty of blackmail material. If Sam pisses him off one more time, guess who’s getting Sam’s phone number faxed straight to her field office?

Dean was looking forward to sharing the whole story with Cas when they pulled up to the farmer’s market that morning. But his favorite beekeeper, potter, and candlestick maker is notably absent again.

As Hannah steps away from her stall to replenish her display, Dean seizes his chance. “Be right back,” he calls to Sam as he darts out behind their table.

When she catches sight of him, Hannah turns her back to lift a crate of soaps that would’ve left Dean sore for days. Goddamn angel strength.

“I may be a dumb human,” Dean starts, “but even I know that angels don’t get sick.” His voice drips with disdain. “Where’s Cas? The real reason, this time. Not that BS you fed me last week.”

Hannah sighs, her normally refined tawny wings fluttering in barely-concealed agitation. “He’s… indisposed.”

Dean folds his arms over his chest. “Cas has been here, rain or shine, every market for two whole friggin’ years. Is he,” he forces out the words, dread trickling down his spine, “dying or something?”

“No.” Hannah shakes her head. “He’s not mortally ill. He’s just indisposed.”

Dean gawks at her. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You have customers,” Hannah says shortly.

Dean waves off a soccer mom armed with a bushel of kale and a hungry leer. “Sam’s handling the orders.” He points at the line in front of Sam, and the lady walks off in a huff.

“Is that right?” Hannah asks innocently once Dean’s attention darts back to her.

“Cut the crap,” Dean says sharply. “Why hasn’t Cas shown for the past two weeks? The real reason. None of that indisposed bullshit.”

Hannah sighs. “You’re keeping me from my own customers.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “So you’d better talk fast.”

Hannah makes a face like she smelled Sam’s post-Chipotle farts. “Castiel was cursed.”

“What?”

“Keep it down,” Hannah hisses, leaning in. “He - well, it’s a long story. Our cousin, an archangel, cursed him.”

“For fuck’s sake, why?”

Hannah’s lips purse. “Gabriel has been very hard to contact for the details. He apparently thought Castiel was moping too loudly or too frequently. ”

“Moping?” Dean echoes, his brow furrowing. “Cas always seemed fine to me.”

Hannah shrugs. “Ask Gabriel. Now, if you don’t mind,” she lifts her nose into the air, wings straightening, “I have customers.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean retreats to his vegetable stand, his head swimming.

Dean never saw himself as a farmer until his health nut little brother decided to ditch his high-paying (and stressful) lawyer job to play Green Acres, and Dean, naturally, followed since there was no goddamn way Sam knew his way around a tractor. Sam was more likely to mow down his own gigantor foot than move a clod of dirt. Luckily, to Dean, an engine’s an engine.

At the farmers market, Sam’s booth was placed next to Cas’s. On their first day, Cas walked over with a complimentary jar of honey. He was stilted and awkward, sure, but he was also the first one to welcome them into the fold.

Lost in thoughts and worries about Cas, Dean almost gives a customer a twenty dollar bill instead of a one, blanks on when their summer squash will be in season, and accidentally rings up asparagus as broccoli.

“Look,” Sam says after apologizing for Dean’s latest mistake, “why don’t you head back and check on the tomatoes? It’s winding down here.”

Dean dubiously eyes the hubbub of people browsing vegetables.

Sam gives him a light shove towards their truck. “Just go. I know you don’t want to be here, anyway.”

Dean grimaces. “It’s that obvious?”

“To everyone and their grandmother,” Sam says under his breath.

Asparagus Man at the front of the line nods gravely.

“Thanks,” Dean says sourly to both of them.

“Go check on Cas,” Sam says as he gestures for the next customer to step up to the register. “Swing by and pick me up in a few hours.”

* * *

At the foot of the unpaved driveway up to Cas’s house, Dean cuts the engine. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel, debating with himself. Cas might not want visitors.

But Dean brought pie.

Homemade, of course. And if it was supposed to celebrate Sam’s birthday tomorrow, what Cas doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Sam likes cake better, anyway, because he’s a freak.

Dean grabs the pie, shoves open the door, and strides up the dirt road to Cas’s house before he can talk himself out of it for good.

This is what you do for sick friends, anyway. Charlie drove all the way up to the city with chicken noodle soup, Settlers of Catan, and prime gossip on Benny’s on-and-off-again thing with Andrea when Dean had the flu a few years ago.

Dean is just being a good friend. It’s not weird.

He knocks on Cas’s cobalt blue door, his heart beating double-time behind his ribs as the seconds wear on with no answer.

Dean dawdles on Cas’s welcome mat. He tries again. Cas’s house isn’t exactly small, with its pottery studio in the basement and wax room in the back. Cas might be in his nest, on the can, or in his garden by the hives. Hell, with this mysterious curse, Cas might not be home at all - but stuck in some angel hospital being poked and prodded by docs. He probably should have squeezed Hannah for more details.

The door opens as Dean contemplates, for the hundredth time, bailing with his tail between his legs.

“Hello?” Cas says, peering curiously at Dean.

“Cas,” Dean says, relieved. From one cursory look, Cas seems normal. His hair’s fucked up, of course. His dark wings are equally unkempt, feathers sticking out every which way. All typical Cas.

Cas blinks. His mouth opens, closes, and opens again. But no sound comes out.

“You’re up,” Dean says stupidly. Of course Cas is up, or he wouldn’t have been able to answer the damn door. Dean shifts his weight to his other foot. “Hannah mentioned you’d, uh, been cursed,” he says awkwardly.

Cas relaxes a fraction. “Ah, yes, I was.”

Dean gives Cas another once-over. “I just found out this morning, so I thought I’d stop by. Bring pie." He holds up the pie as evidence. "See how you are. But you look good.”

Cas squints at him, his head tilting. “Thank you?” he asks like he had a half-dozen responses in his head and chose that one at random.

“No prob.”

Cas’s gaze darts down to the pie in Dean’s hands for the first time. “Would you like to come in?”

Dean grins. “Yeah,” he says, stepping inside. “I’ll take this to the kitchen. I’m starving. Do you wanna eat it now?”

Cas gestures him forward. “This way.”

Dean throws him a funny look but follows him to the kitchen he’s been in about a hundred times before - for Cas’s annual Spring Equinox party, for a handful of dinners with other farmers in the area, for water breaks in between weeding Cas’s bee-friendly garden.

Afternoon sunlight from the beautiful day outside streams through the large windows that overlook the back porch and garden. It illuminates the kitchen table, absolutely covered with what looks like all of Cas’s beekeeping books.

Dean clears enough space for pie and strides over to the drawer for the baking utensils, saying over his shoulder, “I hope you’re hungry.”

When Cas doesn’t answer, Dean hastily turns back around - only to find himself practically nose-to-nose with Cas.

Dean takes an instinctive step backwards, his ass smacking the drawer closed again. “Dude,” he says in a strangled voice. His heart pounds in his chest at the close proximity and intense look in Cas’s eye. “We talked about this. Personal space.”

Cas retreats, his brow furrowing. “My apologies,” he mumbles. “I must have misread the situation.”

“I - yeah - I guess,” Dean stutters as he grabs plates and stacks two forks on top.

Cas falls heavily into a seat at the kitchen table. Silently, he moves enough books around for them to sit and eat.

Dean eyes the haphazard piles as he takes his own seat. “D’you have a problem with one of the hives or something?”

Cas shakes his head. “I don’t think so,” he says, his brow furrowing. “But it’s hard to tell.”

Dean snorts as he cuts them both slices. “I thought you knew everything about bees.”

Cas shoots him a dour look. “I did,” he says pointedly.

“Did?”

Cas fusses with a pamphlet on colony collapse. “I’m trying to catch up, but there is a lot of information to learn.”

Dean frowns. “Catch up to what?”

“To where I was,” Cas says, head tilting.

Dean sets the pie server down to focus on Cas, since he’s not making any goddamn sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Cas looks at him like Dean’s the one who lost his mind. “I don’t remember how to take care of them.” After a beat, he clarifies, “The bees. I’ve spent the better part of two weeks relearning how to maintain the hives, harvest honey, check if there is enough honey to harvest...” he drifts off, looking more than a little lost.

Dean blinks. “That’s the curse?” He grimaces as he forks off a generous corner of pie. “Dick move on Gabriel’s part. That’s your goddamn livelihood.”

Cas tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “He didn’t just make me forget the bees.”

Dean chews at Cas thoughtfully. “What else? Please tell me you forgot that time with the goat and a hooker.”

Cas stares at him. “I don’t remember anything.”

Dean’s next bite of pie freezes halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean anything?” he demands.

“I didn’t think it needed explaining,” Cas says waspishly, as all the pieces finally fall into place for Dean. “I thought Hannah told you about it.” His feathers rustle against the back of his chair.

“Hannah only said you were cursed!” Dean flails, “Not that you have goddamned amnesia. Do you know what pie is? Do you know who I am?”

Cas blinks, a little taken aback by Dean’s reaction. “I retain my general knowledge. I know what pie is,” he says. “I don’t remember eating it, but I know it is meat or fruit wrapped in pastry.”

“Oh my god.”

Cas’s gaze falls to the uneaten pie in front of him. “And, no, I don’t know who you are.”

Dean blinks, all the blood draining from his face. He forces out, “You’re serious.”

“I’d hardly joke with a stranger,” Cas says frankly.

Dean lets his fork drop back to the plate with a clatter.

Cas peers at him curiously. “The curse erased all my personal memories, but I was assuming we were friends, is this right? You know your way around my house, and Hannah wouldn’t have divulged my condition to just anyone.”

“Yeah,” Dean says gruffly, “we’re friends. I - my brother and me, we have a stand next to yours at the farmer’s market.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “Work colleagues, then.”

Dean snorts. “A little more than that.”

Cas bites his lip. “But you told me to respect your personal space. If we were -”

“Woah!” Dean cuts in before Memento can come up with any more bright ideas, “We’re close friends, alright?” he says before Cas can get another word out, “But not… like that.”

Dean doesn’t even know if Cas goes for humans. Most angels don’t. Cas never mentioned any romantic partners, and Dean never pressed. Better to keep that box locked up tight. Cas never shied away from giving his opinion to Dean or anyone else. He’s the most blunt, sincere person Dean knows - angel or human.

If he felt anything for Dean - the barest speck of more-than-friendly feelings, he’d have said something.

“Oh,” Cas says, and, behind him, his wings droop the smallest fraction.

Dean scans the table and pushes Cas’s worn copy of The How-To-Do-It Book of Bee-Keeping by Richard Taylor his way. “Test me.”

“What?”

Dean shovels more pie into his mouth. “As’ me anyfin’,” he mumbles.

Bemused, Cas opens the book to a random page. “How do you use a bee escape?” he reads aloud.

“Do you know what they are?” At Cas’s headshake, Dean holds his fingers about three inches apart, “They’re little plastic doodads with little bee-sized holes in the middle. You slide ‘em in the hive right before you’re about to harvest. Once they’re fitted, you smoke out the bees, one comb at a time. Once they’re out of the way, you can scrape off the honey.”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Do you also keep bees?”

Dean can’t help his loud laugh. “God no,” he says as he closes his mouth around another bite of pie. “I’m just a farmer. But I’ve helped you out a few times.”

At least twice a month since Dean moved to this corner of semi-rural America, but who’s counting. Honey is only harvested once a year, but Cas can always use an extra set of hands in his garden. Or around the house. Dean’s worked off more than one argument with Sam by kneading clay in Cas’s pottery studio basement.

“So you know all this from me,” Cas says dubiously.

“Sure do,” Dean says, smacking his lips as he debates another slice of Cas’s get-well-soon pie. “You’re a good teacher, and once you get on a roll about the bees, it’s kinda hard to shut you up.”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” Dean says as he cuts himself another (smallish) slice. “I look hot in a beekeeper suit, anyway.”

Cas frowns, confused. “Do most humans find baggy coveralls and heavy veils sexually appealing?”

Dean snorts. “That was a joke.”

Dean doesn’t mention that he finds the beekeeper getup hot as hell as long as it’s Cas wearing it.

It’s just - Cas doesn’t usually bother with the veil since he likes to have a full range of vision when caring for his bees. Dean once let a whole comb drop on his foot at the sight of Cas bent over, wholly concentrated on the hive, a barely-there smile hidden in the corners of his mouth. His blue eyes were luminous in the bright sunlight, and every few seconds he would lick his lips, probably to wipe away the beads of sweat gathering on his upper lip.

“Oh,” Cas says, a faint blush touching his cheeks. His gaze drops to his plate, and his wings sag behind him.

Dean mentally kicks himself. Cas might still have all a whole encyclopedia shoved in his brain, but jokes will fly right over his head like so many of Cas’s precious bees. Since Dean started hanging around, he had been getting better with the jokes and references, but Total Recall Cas got that goddamn factory reset, so Dean has to cool it for now.

“Forget it,” he tells Cas. “I’m an asshole.”

Cas squints across the table at him. “You are not.”

“Huh?”

Cas carefully spears off a bit of pie. “You came by to check on me, offer me food,” he slips his fork into his mouth, eyes closing as he savors the tart cherries and buttery pastry, “stay and talk.”

“I, mean, yeah,” Dean says, wrongfooted, “we’re friends. ‘S the least I could do.”

Cas has another bite. “This is really good.”

“Thanks,” Dean says before he crams the rest of his slice into his mouth. He studies Cas as they both eat, an uncomfortable foreboding settling deep in his stomach. Now he sees it, how Cas doesn’t look at him with any familiarity. It’s more like, to Cas, Dean is some fucked up jigsaw puzzle slash zoo animal. Eventually, Dean has to ask, “Are you going to get your memories back?”

Cas shakes his head, his expression hardening. “I’m not sure.”

Dean’s mouth falls open. “Are you serious?” He braces both elbows on the table. “But you were cursed - there’s gotta be a way to break it. That’s how curses work, right?”

Cas exhales a slow sigh. “Gabriel did say there was a way to break it.”

“And you haven’t yet?” Dean demands, almost offended on Cas’s - his Cas’s - behalf. “You’re okay forgetting your whole life?”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Are you insane?” he hisses, his feathers puffing up like an angry cat. “Of course I am not ‘okay,’” he says, air quotes and all, which Dean hasn’t seen since he told Cas they were lame. (He felt bad about it for a week afterward and gave Cas a free apology pumpkin. First of the season.)

“I am able to navigate the outside world as well as a human toddler,” Cas continues heatedly. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past two weeks?”

Dean huffs an impatient breath. “What have you tried so far?”

Cas grimaces. “Gabriel said it could be broken like all curses could be broken.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I have no clue,” Cas says frankly. “I spent a week in Heaven’s archives and libraries. The most common way to break curses is by consuming a stone taken from the stomach of a goat -”

Dean makes a gagging noise.

“-or bathing in the blood of a virgin at the new moon.”

“Not any less gross,” Dean says emphatically. “Where the hell are you going to get virgin blood? Are they talking about, like, a whole virgin? Or does born again count?”

Cas shakes his head. “The new moon was four days ago.”

Dean frowns. “Did you have to do the blood thing?”

From the look on Cas’s face, Dean isn’t going to make him watch Carrie anytime soon.

“So I went to more obscure magic,” Cas continues. “I tried bathing in a natural source of water. And then I ran a bath and filled it with salt, since salt repels evil.”

“All I’m hearing is lots of bathing so far.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I lit sage in every room and burned three types of wood. I wore an evil eye bracelet. I sprinkled consecrated water blended with honey over the threshold.”

“No dice?”

Cas throws him a baleful look. “I have ants now.”

Dean snorts. “Well that sucks,” he says, since what else can you say when your best friend swaps all his memories for a Bug's Life?

Cas sighs. “From my notes and research, I can’t leave the hives completely unattended, so I’ve spent the past few days trying to figure out how not to kill them,” he says, gesturing to the rest of the kitchen table. “Once I’ve determined if the bees will survive on their own, I can look back into the curse.”

Dean purses his lips. “Have you prayed to Gabriel? Tried to convince him to take it back?”

“Every day since it happened,” Cas says, his face somber.

“Alright,” Dean says, grabbing Cas’s empty plate, “I can’t help with the curse stuff since I save the teen witch adventures for Sabrina. I can help with the bees, though, if you want.” He gets to his feet and dumps the plates in the sink.

Once his back is turned, he frowns as he thinks his words over. Who knows if this Cas actually wants him around? This Cas doesn’t know him from Adam.

To the dishes Dean says, “The next beekeeper is a few towns over. I could give him a call for you, if you’d rather have him. Cain’s mostly retired, so he’d probably have the time to show you the ropes.”

“Is Cain an angel?”

Dean laughs over the splashing water. “No, he’s a crotchety old bastard who would rather live with bees than people. You get along.” He sets the rinsed plates out to dry and faces Cas. “I’m sure you have his number in your phone too, come to think of it.”

Cas meets Dean’s cautious gaze with his usual soul-searing stare. “I wouldn’t mind if you helped me. Maybe I could call Cain if there are any advanced problems we can’t figure out together.”

Dean smiles. “Sounds like a plan.” He jerks his head towards the backyard. “You wanna get suited up?”

“Now?” Cas asks, alarmed.

“No time like the present,” Dean says as he walks out of the kitchen without waiting for Cas to follow. “Come on, we’re wasting daylight.”

* * *

Cas stares at his beekeeper suit, hanging in its usual place on his screened back porch, next to his gardening gloves.

“You okay?” Dean asks. “You’ve got a spare in your shed, so I’ll grab it on the way.”

Cas picks up the suit like it’s about to bite him.

“’S a good thing I’m here,” Dean says as Cas slowly unzips the front. “It’s always a bitch to get your wings covered.”

Cas’s wings slump. “I have a feeling this is going to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Hey,” Dean says, taking a step forward, “no, it’s your bees. You love them.”

Cas frowns. “But I don’t remember how.”

Dean grins. “Then you’re a lucky son of a bitch who gets to fall in love with something all over again.” He sighs wistfully. “What I wouldn’t give to erase Star Wars from my brain and watch it again for the first time.”

“What is Star Wars?”

“A trilogy of movies from the 70s and 80s,” Dean says, his smile widening.

Cas nods. “I’ll have to rewatch them, then.”

“Damn right,” Dean says. “I gave you the DVDs for my birthday last year, so they should be around here somewhere.”

“For your birthday?” Cas asks, eyebrows rising. “Isn’t gift-giving normally the other way around?”

Dean shrugs. “But I’d been bugging you to watch ‘em with me for years. Trust me, it was an awesome birthday.”

Cas opens his mouth like he’s not sure where to poke holes in Dean’s story first, so Dean reaches for the wing covers. “I think we should do the hard part first.”

“You’re currently the expert,” Cas says as he sets the suit aside.

Dean frowns as he takes in Cas’s black wings, reflecting muted tones of magenta, purple, cobalt, and green. Normally, Cas rocks the sex wing look - a few feathers askew here and there like someone raked their fingers through them - but now his wings look more like Cas stuck his alulas in an electrical socket.

Without thinking, Dean says, “It’s gonna be hard to get them in the wing covers. They’re a little messed up, dude.” As Cas’s face falls, Dean adds quickly, “Nothing a little grooming can’t fix.”

Cas flushes. “I haven’t been able to reach my whole wingspan on my own. Hannah offered-” he breaks off, his gaze skittering around to settle just over Dean’s left shoulder. “But I don’t know her, not really, so I was uncomfortable accepting.”

Dean takes a step back. “I mean, you don’t need to do it. I’ll have to touch a couple feathers to get these on you, if you’re okay with that.”

Cas swallows. “No, you’re right. My wings are a mess.”

Dean’s fingers practically tingle with the urge to reach out and smooth down the closest feathers, but he shoves his free hand deep into his pocket instead.

“Can you help me?” Cas asks.

Dean quietly dies inside.

Cas’s wings flutter in anticipation, and Dean is so, so weak.

“Yeah,” Dean says gruffly as he drops the wing cover and approaches Cas’s back. “You sure, man? I - I’ve never done this before.”

Cas turns his head. “Never?”

Dean clenches his hands into fists. Don’t touch. Not until he says so. Dean can keep his goddamn hands to himself. Cas deserves that much.

“Do you want me to walk you through it?” Cas asks softly. “I know how, since it’s only personal memories about my life that seem to have been affected.”

“Ah,” Dean hesitates, a hundred and one wing kink porn videos flashing through his head like popup ads. “No,” he coughs, “I know the mechanics.”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

Dean fidgets in place. “‘S like picking beans, right? Don’t pull on them too hard. They’ll come off if they want to come off. Make sure nothing is sticking out at weird angles.”

Cas makes a face. “Did you just compare my wings to legumes?”

“Maybe?” Dean says defensively. “Look, I know vegetables, and I know what your wings are supposed to look like. What else do you want from me?”

Cas’s mouth opens, but no words come out. With a sigh, he faces forward, presenting his wings for Dean.

Dean inhales a deep breath. Christ, his hands are goddamn shaking. Get a fucking grip, Winchester. He lightly touches the base of Cas’s left wing.

Cas shivers, the feathers rippling.

Dean yanks his hand back.

“Sorry,” Cas says sheepishly. “You took me by surprise. Please continue.”

Gently, Dean grazes the base of the wing again. The feathers rustle like under a moderate breeze, but Cas doesn’t tell him to stop, so Dean keeps going. He feels along the surface of Cas’s wings, most of the feathers slipping, glossy smooth, under his fingertips - until he catches the first snag. Nerves rocketing up to eleven, Dean tugs lightly on the first feather out of place.

Cas sucks in a breath.

It comes loose, and Dean has a fleeting, stupid thought to steal it for himself. But he lets it flutter to the floor.

Dean soldiers on, biting his lip as he tries to keep himself from grabbing handfuls of feathers and burying his face in Cas’s wings. Meticulously, painstakingly, he combs through the mess. As he moves closer to the second joint, Cas’s feathers, which had been subtly shifting the whole time, stiffen.

“You okay?” Dean asks.

Cas nods, stilted. “Please continue,” he says, his voice rough.

Dean frowns. If Cas is uncomfortable and doesn’t want to tell him, Dean’s not going to be the asshole who turns a blind eye to the signs. He withdraws his hands, and Cas’s wings -

They flare out, seeking Dean’s touch.

Without thinking, Dean blurts an astounded, “Dude.”

“Apologies,” Cas says, and, from this angle, Dean has primetime viewing of the back of Cas’ traffic light-red neck. His wings retreat to fold stiff as a board behind Cas’s back.

“Hey, no,” Dean says as he lays a hand along Cas’s wing, petting it gently. “I just wanted to check in with you.” He grins lopsidedly, not that Cas can see him. “Communication is important.”

Cas coughs. “Indeed,” he says, and his voice still sounds off. “Please continue. I,” he breaks off, turning a little in place so Dean can see half of his face, “I was enjoying it.”

“Good,” Dean says with a little too much enthusiasm. “I - uh, me too.”

Cas blinks. “You were?” He frowns. “Grooming is… boring. A chore.”

“Not for humans,” Dean says as he picks up where he left off. “We don’t have big fancy wings to lug around everywhere. They’re-”

“What?” Cas waits, clearly expecting an answer.

Dean sighs. “Cool,” he supplies lamely. “Your wings are cool.”

Dean can’t see Cas’s face with his back turned, but his wings fluff up ever so slightly, so Dean counts it as a win. “I’m glad you think so,” Cas says quietly.

“’Course,” Dean says, easy as pie. He pulls on another feather, and, when it doesn’t come out, tucks it back into its proper place, “I’ve never seen an angel with wings like yours. Malachi’s got dark grey ones, and I thought they were your shade of black, but they’re not. Plus, he’s an asshole.”

Cas chuckles. “I don’t see how him being an asshole has anything to do with his wing color.”

“No, but, if you ever run into him - an angel with dark grey wings - now you know.”

“So you’re only looking out for me.”

“You don’t know this yet,” Dean tells him conspiratorially, “but I’m awesome.”

“Yes, I’m beginning to see that for myself.”

Thank God Cas can’t see Dean’s face. Equally embarrassed and pleased, Dean rambles, “You should also watch out for Metatron - the white-winged dude who runs the thrift shop down the road. He’s been angling to set up shop at the farmers market for fucking ever even though he has a storefront for all his crap. Whoever said white wings meant purity was full of shit because Metatron’s a douche.”

Cas laughs, and Dean nearly slumps over in relief.

He can still make Cas laugh.

“Hannah, she’s okay,” Dean continues as he combs through the rest of Cas’s secondaries and coverts before he gets to the primaries, large and built for flight, and completely within Cas’s reach to groom himself. “But her partner, Duma, hates you for some reason, so I’d steer clear of her.”

Cas’s wings dip a few inches. “It doesn’t sound like I’m on good terms with many angels.”

Dean lightly runs his palm over Cas’s flight feathers - while he’s back here, he might as well. “I guess not,” he admits because Cas is right, “but they’ve all got massive sticks up their asses, so you’re better off.”

“They’re family.”

“They’re dicks,” Dean corrects. “Come on, you’re goddamn cursed with amnesia , and not one is here helping you out? Dick move for dick angels,” he finishes.

“Hannah visited.”

“Like I said, Hannah’s okay,” Dean says as he straightens up.

“At least you’re here,” Cas points out.

“Yeah,” Dean says bitterly as he brushes out bits of fluffy down near the base of Cas other wing, “After two weeks.”

“You said you didn’t know.”

“I should’ve.”

“How?” Cas asks, sounding baffled.

Dean scoffs as he cards his fingers through the shorter feathers near the bone of Cas’s wing, “You didn’t show at the farmers market. You always show.”

“But-”

Dean shakes his head. “I should’ve known something was up.” He yanks a little too hard on a feather, and the brittle shaft breaks between his thumb and pointer finger. Dean lets it fall to the floor in disgust. “But Hannah said you were sick, and I didn’t know if you were the type who wanted company or everyone to stay the hell away. And then I talked to Sammy, and he said angels don’t really get sick like we do.” He exhales a slow breath, consciously holding himself back from tearing any more feathers out. Cas doesn’t deserve that, especially after all the shit he’s dealing with.

“We do get sick,” Cas says, his voice breaking through Dean’s morose reminiscing of the past week, “But never with the type of illnesses that can be treated outside of Heaven.”

“That’s what Sammy told me,” Dean says heavily.

“You were worried?”

Dean pokes him in the muscular part of the wing. “Of course I was worried.”

Cas’s head tilts, but not enough that Dean can make out his expression. “Because we’re friends.”

Dean swallows. “Yeah,” he says quietly, “because we’re friends.” He tugs on a few more feathers, and one comes loose. He holds it between his fingers for a beat, rubbing his thumb along the vane. With a sigh, he moves onto Cas’s other flight feathers. He gives them a few long strokes, unable to help his smile as he feels at the power, the potential, all hidden in Cas’s wings. But, eventually, he has to straighten up.

“All done,” he says with forced cheer as Cas turns around to face him.

Cas blinks a few times like he’s coming out of a trance. “Thank you,” he says gruffly.

He spreads his wings.

Dean’s breath catches in his chest, and his awe must show all over face, judging by Cas’s barely-there smirk. But, dammit, Dean’s going to enjoy the sight. Cas never puts himself on display like this, preferring to play the nerdy beekeeper in a trench coat rather than an almighty Angel of the Lord.

Cas turns his head to inspect Dean’s work. He gives an experimental flap, sweeping all the old feathers littering the floor up into the air. “Thank you, Dean,” he says sincerely. He folds his wings back, and Dean’s heart aches for something he never had in the first place.

“Don’t - don’t mention it,” Dean chokes out.

A fluffy piece of down drifts down to settle on Cas’s nose. He goes cross-eyed to keep it in view.

Dean cracks up. Grinning, he reaches up to brush away the offending bit of down.

Cas catches his arm in an iron grip, his own face oddly intense.

“Cas?”

But before Dean can finish his sentence, Cas pulls him closer and seals their mouths together.

Dean lets out a muffled (completely manly) noise of surprise against Cas’s lips before muscle memory takes over. As Dean kisses back, Cas makes a light soothing rumble in the back of his throat, his touch gentle and warm. Dean’s other hand grasps desperately at Cas’s shirt, anchoring him in place. An electric, bubbly feeling is exploding in his chest, a wild kind of joy Dean normally would tamp down, tell himself, watch out for the other shoe to drop.

Other shoes like Cas’s missing memory.

Dean freezes, and it takes him a long moment to realize Cas isn’t moving either. His grip on Dean’s arm has gone slack. Dean opens his eyes to find Cas’s eyes wide open and glowing with an electric blue light.

Fuck.

Dean’s watched his fair share of angel-on-angel porn and more than his fair share of angel-on-human porn, and kissing’s not supposed to do that.

Dean takes a stumbling step back. “Cas?” he tries.

But Cas doesn’t move. He doesn’t give any sign he heard Dean at all.

Dean falls forward, tripping over his feet. He grips Cas, hard, by the shoulders. With his heart in his throat, he gives Cas a small shake. “Cas?” he tries again, and his voice sounds alien to his own ears, loud and breathy with his panic. He shakes him harder. “Cas!”

Several agonizing seconds pass, and the light slowly dims from behind Cas’s eyes, leaving behind his normal blue.

“Dean?”

Dean’s knees nearly give out with relief. “Hey,” he says weakly, “Nice to have you back, buddy.”

Cas blinks a few times. He swallows, a strange expression coming over his face.

“You okay?” Dean demands. “What the fuck was that?”

Cas stares at him. “That was the curse breaking.”

Read Part II here!

#profoundnet #angel castiel #beekeper castiel #farmer dean #fluff #wing grooming #amnesia #mutual pining #friends to lovers #rae writes fic

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moonlightguardianmoon · 3 years

Text

The story of Nasir the Cat part 1

This is a drawing I did for Nasir... ya I know it terrible 😓 I haven't drawn cat's in a long time if anyone wants to redraw Nasir I give full permission as long as you follow the copy right and give credit where credit is due

Oh another thing Nasir is Arabic for eagle

The story of how Nasir became Altair's little furry partner in crime.

It was a Friday morning around 6;30. People were driving or walking to work, as the birds chirped and the eagles soaring through the open air, somewhere in the crowds of people, there was a blade walking among them, that blade was... Altair lbn-La'Ahad.

Altair was wearing his modern outfit, which was a plain white jacket hoodie, a black T-shirt underneath, navy blue pants, a leather belt, and black brand shoes. He was walking towards Mike's cafe, as he did every Friday and Monday morning.

The cafe bell rang as he walked inside, there at the cash register was Michael, wearing an open jean-jacket with some different pins on it, a red t-shirt, tan pants, and a red beanie hat.

Michael: yo! Altair! How's my main man doing?

Altair: I am doing well Michael.

The two fist bump, Altair and mike high fives from top to bottom then ending the handshake ending with them gripping both their forearm and shaking them. They both then let go and continued talking.

Altair: how have things been with you and the cafe?

Michael: I've been doing good, the same goes for the cafe too. So what can I do for my favorite customers slash good friend, today?

Altair: the usual Friday and Monday breakfast, please.

Michael: the butter coated croissants with a warm brew latte.

Altair: that would be it yes.

Michael: all right, and how many croissants would you like?

Altair: the usual five, please.

Michael: alrighty then, that'll be $17.99, please.

Altair: *hands him a coupon and three dollars*

Michael: Awesome, I'll get your drink and latte in a few minutes.

Altair: -nods-

A few minutes later Michael handed Altair his Latte and a white paper bag with the five butter-covered croissants inside.

Michael: there you go, a latte and five butter coated croissants.

Altair: *grabs the Latte and paper bag with the croissants inside* shukraan lak, thank you, Michael.

Michael: no problem man, hey you, Desmond, and Ezio are still going boating with me next week, right?

Altair: I believe we still are, yes.

Michael: right on dude! Well, I'll see you later then! *waves goodbye*

Altair: *makes a small wave back*

Altair exits the building and begins walking two blocks over to a bench that was next to an alleyway. Altair takes a seat on the bench, as he took a sip of his Latte.

Altair: ... *looks around to see if anyone was watching him* ... *turns around to the alleyway* *click* *click* Goldie~ come here Goldie~

Just then a large black cat came slowly emerging from the alleyway. The cat was a midnight black cat that had ember gold eyes just like Altair's eyes. The cat meows happily back at Altair when suddenly a large bulldog came around the corner and growled at the black cat.

Dog: GRRR- BARK BARK!!

Goldie: HISSSSS! *scratches at the air and towards the dog*

Altair: HEY! GET AWAY FROM HER!!!

Altair quickly got up and got in between the dog and the cat.

Altair: I SAID GET AWAY FROM HER YOU STUPID DOG! LEAVE HER BE!!!

Dog: *snarls and growls* BARK! BARK!

Altair: *gets in the dog's face* GRRRR! HISSSSSS!

Dog: ... *whimpers* *leaves with his tail between his legs*

Altair: Tch, stupid dog never learns! *sigh*... you ok Goldie?

Goldie: Meow~ *rubs her head on Altair's leg* Purrr~

Altair: Heh, I take that as a yes.

The cat smiles at Altair as it jumps on a few boxes and onto his shoulder, as he walks back to the nearby bench. The cat leaped off his shoulder and onto the bench and sat next to him on the bench. Altair pulled two butter coated croissants out of the paper bag and gave one to the cat.

Altair: one for you.

Goldie: meow~ *starts eating the croissant*

Altair: and one for me *starts eating his croissant* *pets the cat with his left hand* did you miss me, girl?

Goldie: Purrr~

Altair: Heh, I missed you too.

A woman came walking up to Altair. The women had a short dirt blond hair cut, wore black high heels, long light grey pants, and a fancy grey, open, button, jacket, and a white shirt.

Women: oh, look who it is. Tch, well I guess it is pretty common in New York to find psychopaths on the streets, so why am I surprised?

Altair: 😑 oh... Hello Linda... what brings you to the streets at this hour?

(Altair threatened Linda at a bar after she was being a jerk to Desmond)

Linda: *looks down at Goldie* What. Is. That? *points at Goldie*

Altair: *sarcastic gasp* Linda I'm shocked. Did your teacher not inform you about what a cat is?

Linda: -_- don't be a smart @$$ with me, you know what I meant... so is it yours?

Altair: sadly no, she is a stray.

Linda: gross. Why is it sitting on public city property?

Altair: uh... cause it's public and anyone can sit here?

Linda: ya, people can, not wild, dirty animals. I would say you're not allowed to sit there either, but unfortunately to the government's eyes, your a person to I guess.

Altair: really? Cause right now I'm staring at the likes of an old crusty dinosaur and I'm pretty those went extinct a long while ago.

Linda: *gasp*! Well I- HMF! Well doesn't matter cause I'll just call animal control if you don't get rid of it!

Altair: you're not doing sh*t, you sayidat majnuna! You're not gonna call them for sh*t! Goldie is-

Linda: he isn't legally yours! What authority do you have to stop me!? Hm? Tell me, what legal authority do you have that will prevent me from doing so?

Altair: ... (sh*t she's right for once) still, birds sit and stand here all the time! You gonna call them on a bunch of birds too!?

Linda: listen here alt!

Altair: Altair.

Linda: I don't care if your name was bob or steve! If I could I would, but those little rats with wings are everywhere! And I can't do much about them, but this I very much can!

Altair: so help me Linda you call them on her-

Linda: you have no control here!

Altair: *swiftly gets up* LINDA I WILL-

Linda: *she wags her finger close to Altair's face* tisk, tisk, tisk, now Altair. Wouldn't want to cause a scene in the public eye, would you now?

Altair: ... (I can't let them know, what I am... Linda already has enough suspicion on me and the family)

Goldie: mow?

Altair: *looks down at Goldie*

Goldie had gone ahead and pull out another croissant from the bag and eat Altair's half-eaten one.

Altair: ... *makes a small smile at Goldie and pets her gently on the head* (I can't risk word getting out and exposing us to Abstergo.) *looks back at Linda with a glare* I won't let you.

Linda: well if you don't, why not just adopt the thing?

Altair: as much as I'd like to, Shaun doesn't let us have pets in the house.

Linda: well what a shame... tell you what, since I'm in a generous mood. I'll give you till tomorrow to say your goodbyes. But by the time I come back, that chubby cat has got to go! Now ta ta, I'm about to be late for work.

Linda continues walking past the two, leaving a lonely Altair alone with his cat.

Altair: ... *sighs* *slumps back down on the bench* ... what are we going to do? ...

Goldie: meow? *nuzzles into Altair's side*

Altair: ... Heh *scratches behind Goldie's ears* don't worry Goldie, I won't let her take you away to some animal prison.

Goldie: mow~

Altair: *reaches into the bag and pulls out another croissant and gives it to goldie* here you go, my little qath saghira.

Goldie: Meow~ *starts eating the croissant*

Altair: *chuckles* ... maybe Linda is right, you are getting a bit big. *pets goldie* Maybe I should stop giving you so many croissants.

Goldie: mow~

Altair: you have been eating a lot more as of late, funny *rubs her tummy* it's almost like you're-... You're... *looks over at Goldie in shock* goldie... your... no...

Goldie: *happy Meow sound*

Altair realized that goldie was pregnant, as an assassin, he doesn't get surprised rarely, but when he does, it's quite the sight to see.

Altair: ... *chuckles* I can't believe this. *picks up Goldie in his lap* you are pregnant aren't you?!

Goldie: meow~ purrrs~

Altair: I'm going to be a grandpa! *chuckles* well I'm technically already am, but this is different. I'm so happy for you my little gold~ *chuckles* Eha... ha...

Goldie: mow?

Altair: ... I can't let Linda take you away, no less leave you here with that stupid mut! Lurking around every corner... I can't just leave you when your most vulnerable at this state, nor can I leave you and your kittens here, the streets are no place for you and your kittens.

Goldie: meow...

Altair: ... *sighs* ... you know what, screw Shaun's rules of no pets!

Goldie: mow?

Altair: *whispers to Goldie* I'm the leader of the assassins and one of the best according to history. *normal talk* I should be able to make my own damn decisions!

Goldie: Moew!

Altair: damn right Goldie! If Shaun has a problem he's gonna have to deal with it!

Goldie: MOEW!

Altair: *picks up Goldie and stands up* yes goldie! Let me hear you roar!

Goldie: MOEW!

Altair: THAT'S THE SPIRIT! WE-

Man: *clears throat*

Altair and Goldie: ...

Man: ...

Altair: *clears throat* ... how much of the conversation did you hear?

Man: ... just about how if this guy named Shaun has a problem with you and your cat that he'll have to deal with it...

Altair: ... oh.

Man: ...

Altair: ... don't you have work or something?

Man: don't you?

Altair: no.

Man: oh... lucky. *leaves*

Altair: ... *looks at Goldie*

Goldie: *looks back at Altair*

Altair: *chuckles* tomorrow Goldie, I'll take you home before Linda can take you away. There you can have your litter of kittens in the house and not out here in the streets.

Goldie: *happy meow*

Altair: *kisses Goldie's forehead* I promise, I won't let anything happen to you little one. I will take care of you and your kittens for as long as I may still breathe.

[Current] - [next]

Hoped you guys liked part 1 of How Nasir became Altair's fury little companion✌😸

#assassin's creed #altaïr ibn la'ahad #altair #digital art #assassin's creed headcanon #assassin's creed lost in modern ages #cat

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primatechnosynthpop · 4 years

Text

Oh yeah just remembered several weeks ago I jotted this down in the notes app on my phone. Not really developed enough to warrant posting on any fanfiction websites or whatever but I guess I may as well share it here

The old manor across the street from the arcade has been haunted for decades. The groundskeeper knows this all too well, for reasons he prefers not to share, especially because nobody ever listens when he tells them. But he really did try to warn those kids.

The morning after three young men waltzed into the manor against his warnings, two of those young men ran out, screaming at the top of their lungs. Cooper couldn't say he didn't feel bad. But he had tried to warn them, and what did they do? Just went right on in anyway.

Later the following day, once the kids have long since left the vicinity, he takes a look around the manor to clean up whatever remains the ghoul may have left behind from its latest victim. Sure enough, it doesn't take long for him to find a body: eyes torn out; skewered by tentacles in several places; innards partially consumed. Scattered next to the corpse are several of Cooper's belongings. Seems like this guy had been trying to steal... maybe planning to commit identity theft? Well, whatever his motivations were, it's too late to ask him now. Cooper bags the body, drags it outside, and gets to burying it.

A couple hours later, the two kids who got away show back up. They look real skittish, especially the skinny one with the glasses, but they manage to stammer through an inquiry as to whether their friend "made it out okay". They refer to him by name, and say a whole bunch of stuff about who they are and what they were doing there the night before, but it all kind of goes in one ear and out the other-- in part because the two young guys talk over each other a bit, and in part because, hell, it's not like it matters. Cooper, no longer able to muster much sympathy after learning these punks tried to steal from him, leads them over to the newest "grave" on the property, hands them a shovel, and tells them to start digging.

As he's walking away, he overhears one of them saying to the other, "is he saying Kevin escaped using a secret network of underground tunnels?" The other guy offers an equally chipper comment in return. He can't tell whether they're deep in the denial stage of grief, or just complete idiots. Either way, they aren't looking so chipper when they trudge off his property about half an hour later. Cooper watches them from the window and thinks, good riddance. Hopefully they'll spread the word around, and people will actually listen for once, and stop walking into their deaths in this house.

It isn't until several days later, when Cooper is out mowing the lawn, that he notices a change in the air. By now, he's so used to sudden chills running through his body and the like that he barely registers it at all. But this is a new sensation. It's more like getting zapped or burnt. He looks behind him, and rather than the ghoul's familiar skeletal grin, sees the translucent but well-defined and largely humanoid figure of a man standing there and glaring at him with eyes that are big patches of static.

Well, that's a new one. But after living with one malevolent spirit for nearly forty years, Cooper isn't gonna be too freaked out by the appearance of another. Hell, this isn't even the first time this has happened recently. Other ghosts, ghouls, and spirits come and go from this place all the time. Why, just a few weeks ago the temperamental spirit of some real nasty-looking guy about this punk's age wandered through the property before settling down at the arcade across the road. So he just shrugs and goes back to his groundskeeper duties.

This new ghost proves not to be much of a threat. It seems to do a lot of macho posturing without ever really attacking Cooper like it means it. Most of the time, it's out of sight and out of mind, to the point where Cooper keeps assuming it's moved on after going a day or two without seeing it, only to be mildly surprised when he sees it again, rattling the doors of his old pickup truck or going through his gardening tools or just generally wandering around and groaning to itself.

He can always tell when the two spirits run into each other, because what follows is a cacophony of moaning and screaming that can be heard from any corner of the house. It's nothing he hasn't heard a million times before, but it's so loud and incessant that it keeps him up at night, like a dog barking or a car alarm going off outside. The ghoul never did get along very well with its victims' spirits. It starts getting annoying after a while.

Eventually, Cooper starts looking for a way to put this young ghost's soul at ease just so it'll stop making a racket. The next time he catches it rifling through his gardening supplies, he doesn't stop it or shoo it away. He lets it grab his hoe and his spare shovel, and then, out of mild curiosity and the lack of anything better to do, tags along from a safe distance to see what it does with them.

As it turns out, this ghost has lofty ambitions.

It tracks down the ghoul that killed it and thrusts the blade of the hoe into it, over and over. The ghoul lashes its tentacles, but each time it touches the other ghost it recoils as though from an electric shock. Watching this, Cooper almost feels sorry for the old ghoul. It's been in charge here for so long, but (perhaps by pure luck) this newcomer seems to have figured out its one weakness. As the one-sided battle progresses, the ghoul's tentacles are lopped off one by one, eventually leaving it defenseless. From there, it doesn't take long until it's completely pulverized. You can't kill a supernatural being with an ordinary weapon, from what Cooper knows, but you sure can destroy it. And sometimes being destroyed is worse than being killed.

Oh, but the ghoul will reassemble itself in time, once it recovers enough energy. Again, it's not like this is the first time any of this has happened. This other ghost doesn't have to know that, though-- let it think that its unfinished business is now finished, so it can go away. It turns and walks outside, and Cooper runs to the window to watch it leave.

But it doesn't leave.

In fact, it wanders across the property, shovel in hand, to the patch of upturned soil where Cooper buried the body. He realizes what it's trying to do as it starts digging, and despite everything, he almost starts feeling bad for it again. He goes outside and watches it dig for a while before speaking up.

"That won't work. There's nothing there." The ghost turns to stare at him with those big patches of static where its eyes should be, and Cooper crosses his arms. "Your little friends came by and dug up your body. It's gone now."

The ghost emits a reproachful moan. It drops the shovel and stomps on the ground. Then, with a shake of its head that sends little sparks of energy flying off it like water droplets off a wet dog when it shakes itself, it turns and shuffles away.

Cooper never sees that particular ghost again, and never thinks much of it again, either. There are always new supernatural happenings to be dealt with in this house. No need to get hung up on one guy in particular just because he was a would-be thief or died young or tried to fight the ghoul. He wasn't the first to fit any of those descriptors, and he wouldn't be the last.

It's not until many years later that he sees those three young men again, traipsing down the sidewalk toward the arcade across the road. So many people are coming and going to and from the arcade that day that he barely even notices. By the time it sinks in that it's definitely the same guys, and definitely all three of them, the arcade doors have already closed behind them and he can't look again to double-check. But Cooper knows what he saw, or thinks he does. He never finds out how or why, and frankly, he doesn't care. Whatever happened with that guy in the plaid shirt, it didn't break the cycle of paranormal events on Cooper's property.

Only... after that busy day at the arcade, new ghosts stop showing up, even when people visit his manor and meet their ends. And then one day, people stop meeting their end there altogether. He wakes up one day, almost another full year after the fact, and realizes that he hasn't seen the ghoul in months.

It's like there was some kind of portal open all this time, and now for whatever reason it's closed-- maybe whoever was keeping it open is gone now? Whatever. Cooper has no way of knowing, and he doesn't really care to find out. The point is, it seems like this property is all his now. It's almost lonely, in an odd way, without any spirits wandering around. Gradually, people stop dropping by so often. He should be glad to finally be left alone, but...

Ah, forget about it. Whatever happened with those kids, he still doesn't care, and he's sure as hell not gonna seek them out to express his gratitude to them for seemingly indirectly exorcising his house. He's an old man, after all, without many years left in him. And whatever years remain of his life, he intends to spend them continuing to work as a groundskeeper.

#this is kinda... not cerebral per se but it sorta relies upon some implied bits of lore that aren't explicitly suggested by the text itself #hey did you know that i write stuff sometimes?

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lanaisnotwool · 4 years

Video

youtube

404 From Teacher to Investor - Interview with Todd Dexheimer

http://moneyripples.com/2020/06/22/404-from-teacher-to-investor-interview-with-todd-dexheimer/

Chris Miles, the "Cash Flow Expert and Anti-Financial Advisor," is a leading authority on how to quickly free up and create cash flow for thousands of his clients, entrepreneurs, and others internationally! He’s an author, speaker, and radio host that has been featured in US News, CNN Money, Bankrate, Entrepreneur on Fire, and spoken to thousands getting them fast financial results.

Listen to our Podcast here:

https://www.blogtalkradio.com/moneyripples/2020/05/31/404--going-from-teacher-to-investor-with-todd-dexheimer

-----------------------------------------------------------

Chris Miles (00:00): Hello, my fellow Ripplers. This is Chris Miles. Your Cash Flow Expert and Anti-Financial Advisor. Welcome you out for a wonderful show. Show that's for you and about you. Those of you work so hard for money and you're ready for your money. Start working harder for you. Now! You want that freedom. That cash flow. That prosperity. Today! Not 30, 40 bazillion years from now, but right now, so you can live that life that you love doing what you love being with those that you love, but it's so much more than you guys. Than just having a lot of money and being comfortable and, you know, driving flashy cars and that kind of thing. Because if you're following us, we're not those kind of people. We're real people. We're sincere. We're authentic. And the truth is that you're a Rippler. That you, yes, you can create lots and lots of money create the life of your dreams, but your life is much more than that. You want to create a ripple effect through the lives of those, around you, whether it be your family, whether it be your community, the country, or across the world. And that's ultimately what this ripple effect's about. And I appreciate you guys allowing me to create a ripple effect through you because without that, we couldn't do it. And you guys have been bingeing on these shows. You've been spreading the word you've been sharing it. And I love seeing these numbers grow every single day. So thank you for being a part of this.

Chris Miles (01:20): Hey, as a quick reminder, check out our website MoneyRipples.com. You've got the great ebook on there called Beyond Rice & Beans. Seven Secrets. Free up cash today, and you can check out other information on there as well. So check it out.

Chris Miles (01:29): Alright! Today, guys, I'm bringing on another great, great investor on our show here. This is actually a guy by the name of Todd Dexheimer here. Now, Todd, like Todd's been doing real estate. He got in right during the last recession. Like he was born out of the fire, right? He was born out of those flames when everybody says real estate stinks. And that's exactly when Todd said, alright, let's do this. He actually started as a high school industrial tech teacher. Then went to real estate in 2008. Now, interesting thing about him is that he's the CEO of venture properties, LLC. Yeah. He's also been, has purchased and renovated over 800 units guys. Has focuses on syndicating value, add multifamily and emerging markets, as well as coaching other inspiring investors. He's the host of the Pillar of Wealth Creation Podcasts that actually I've been on as well. He's also been doing contributing things like Bigger Pockets. And he's been on various shows, whether it's like, you know, big real estate investing advice ever, or the Michael Blank show and many, many more. And so he lives in Minnesota, his wife, and two kids love skiing, hunting, camping, hockey running. Of course he's in Minnesota. He's got to love hockey. Right? So anyways, Todd, welcome to our show.

Todd Dexheimer (02:41): Yeah. Appreciate you having me on, I appreciate the introduction, man. I'm like, I'm pumped up. I, that intro was awesome! I'm pumped up to hopefully add some value to the show and yeah. This is, this is an exciting community. It sounds like we got here. So...

Chris Miles (02:58): Absolutely. No, these are good people. These are the best ones you'll ever, ever witness. I'll tell you that. So, you know, tell us like, how did you even go from, you know, high school teacher to real estate? Like what even sparked that because everybody's freaking out in 2008 and you're like, Hey, why not? Right.

Todd Dexheimer (03:14): Yeah. I've been, what was I going to lose, man?

Chris Miles (03:16): That's right!

Todd Dexheimer (03:18): I was making you know, not very much as a high school teacher. And I think there was, I don't, I don't know exactly what sparked it like it was, I don't know if it was just a spark, but I've always, I think had this entrepreneurial spirit with me. I actually built shipping crates for my dad's company that he worked at. He was a manufacturing engineer and they're making these vises and I built shipping crates for these vises. So I had my own decks, custom crates business that my brother and dad kind of formed and along with me, and then I took over and did that. So that was fun. And that was when I was in high school, I had the lawn mowing business, you know, but then I decided to be a teacher and just, just quite frankly, it just didn't click. Like I thought it was going to be great. And there was parts of it. That was, was great, but it just didn't click. And it wasn't for me. And I bet within like a month or two, I was telling my wife, I gotta figure out what I'm going to do when I grow up because this aint it. And so...

Chris Miles (04:26): It, wasn't a scary moment for her to say, wait, all of this to now say you want to get out. Right?

Todd Dexheimer (04:31): Well, we just started our life together, you know, as like all this. So it was kind of crazy, but at the same time I knew it wasn't for me. So it was just exploratory and just trying to figure out and real estate made a ton of sense. And like you said, it was right during that like firestorm, right. Everything was crashing. Everybody was running in the opposite direction. And I got in a little bit about, you know, I was naive. I didn't really understand a hundred percent what happened cause I wasn't involved. Like I didn't lose anything. Right? So it was a little bit of maybe me being naive, but also seeing the opportunity. Understanding like that real estate will go back up in value, even though some people sat and I heard this a lot of times real estate will never go back up to where it used to be. Never. And that's very shortsighted. And I knew that it was like, yeah, see, but these are people that got, just got burned. Right? And so it just made so much financial sense and I understood the industry being an industrial tech teacher and you know, doing construction through the summers too, work my way through high school and college. It just made sense.

Chris Miles (05:44): Yeah. So what was your first deal? Like what'd you start out doing?

Todd Dexheimer (05:48): You know what, I did three deals pretty much at one time, which is, which is crazy. And I didn't have any money, by the way. My wife and I had probably like $30,000 saved up, maybe $25,000 saved up. And so we bought a single family that we ended up living in, but it was a foreclosure. We did this 203K loan. So you can get in for very little money. And then we did the renovation ourselves, big renovation. I mean, when we moved in, there was no plumbing, water wasn't working. So like the first, like, I shouldn't say when we moved in, like probably the day we moved in, I just got it going. I can still remember working on some, we didn't have heat, which is fine. Cause we moved in in August, but we had to get heat because at Minnesota, by end of September, you need heat. So I, they like get around is we're on a time deadline. Yeah. But so that, that was one of them. The other one was a flip that I partnered with a guy that had money and we did the fix and flip. And then the other one was a single family rental house. I bought that out of foreclosure. For like 60,000, somewhere around there stuck another 10, 15,000 into it. Did all the work myself with my wife and a couple of friends came and helped me in, but that was it. And then was able to then refinance that house actually in that snowball, from there. Fix and flip, actually ended up being a flop. I bet I made a thousand dollars on it. I did all the work

Chris Miles (07:27): You got to learn pretty quickly. Like it's probably better that happened because in some people's case where they hit really big on that first flip, they think that's the way it's always going to be. Right?

Todd Dexheimer (07:35): Oh, this is easy!

Chris Miles (07:37): Yeah, exactly. And you're like, okay, that wasn't as cool as I thought that was, that was like a dollar an hour. Gosh.

Todd Dexheimer (07:43): But it probably wasn't even that much.

Chris Miles (07:47): Well, that's great. And you've done. I mean, you've done flips, you've even done mobile home, parks and you did a ski resort, is that right?

Todd Dexheimer (07:53): Yeah. Yeah.

Chris Miles (07:55): Tell us about that.

Todd Dexheimer (07:55): Well, I bought a defunct ski resort, so it was just a ski resort that, you know, we had some really bad winters in the early, the late 90's to early 2000's where there just wasn't a lot of snow. And so when that happens, these little skiers are just can't handle it. And so they ended up shutting it down. Somebody got hurt really bad too. And so there was a big lawsuit. And so it was just shut down. The guy that owned it originally passed away, handed down to his kid and grown adult, but yeah, just didn't want to do it anymore. So they ended up shutting it down and we stumbled upon it. Actually the business partner at the time was actually hunting nearby and he was seeing all these deer trails. And they all led into this property.

Todd Dexheimer (08:48): So we went and talked to the owner and then was like, Hey, what's going on here? And we ended up striking a deal. Then we ended up getting the property and we got it for such a cheap price that we had a bank that financed it a hundred percent.

Chris Miles (09:01): Wow!

Todd Dexheimer (09:02): It appraised for a million dollars and we were buying it for $450,000 and they fund us to a hundred percent of the deal.

Chris Miles (09:10): That's incredible.

Todd Dexheimer (09:12): Yeah. It was incredible. And that was 2000, maybe 13 or 14. So things, I mean still were a little iffy, you know, probably 13. Yeah. We're still a little iffy. There is banks. Weren't being super friendly. Yeah. Not like that, but...

Chris Miles (09:29): But the numbers made sense. It said, all right. Go for it.

Todd Dexheimer (09:32): Yup. Yup. So we ended up just taking that. We did some work to it. We were thinking about doing something with it, but it ended up just being more of a distraction to try to get it up and running. So we ended up selling it. So I basically flipped the ski resort. You know, I tried to convince my wife to move down there. She said, no.

Chris Miles (09:50): I'm saying it as a skier. You were probably really tempted weren't you?

Todd Dexheimer (09:53): Yeah, it was great. It was. And it's amazingly beautiful piece of property and it's just amazing.

Chris Miles (09:59): That's great. What kind of deals are you doing now? Like what kind of multifamily stuff are you doing? Cause I know with different people I've had on the show, some were kinda like, you know what, I'm getting so strict with my underwriting. Like I am almost refused things left and right, right?

Todd Dexheimer (10:13): Yup. Yup. And kind of the same actually. Things were heating up quite a bit, obviously that was pre-COVID. Things were heating up quite a bit and it was really tough to find a deal that made sense. Now people were just buying these properties for crazy amounts and we weren't willing to. So I'm buying, you know, value add, B class multifamily, typically a hundred plus units. So we can have some scale. We can have the onsite staff and, and we're buying those in a few markets cross country that are kind of emerging or markets that have some, the, all the right fundamentals that we're really looking for and we're doing the syndication. So we're raising the funds for down payment, all that kind of stuff. So that's, that's kind of our bread and butter. And I anticipate that to still be our bread and butter as we kind of emerge through this whole COVID deals will probably come out of this. You know, we don't know exactly the future yet, but I think there'll be some opportunity down the road.

Chris Miles (11:24): Yeah. I mean, not that I, I glory in people's pain right? Or do something bad, but I definitely foresee that there's a lot of deal operators that really weren't operators. They were just greedy people wanting to get in on the, on the ride. Right. And buy these properties even probably have investor's money out there. And, but they've never done a deal before and they don't know how to operate something. And I imagine that's where there could be some good opportunities coming up.

Todd Dexheimer (11:47): I think so. I think so. And like you said, we don't like for me, it's you, when you look at it and go, Oh, I really, so some people are excited. They're like, Oh, it's great. I can't wait for people to start losing their properties. It's like, well you do you understand like that, that actually only hurts you as well. Like I've got properties. So if the guys around me guys and gals around me lose their properties, those value, my property pretty value is going to go down. Right. And so it's, it's it's yeah. Well, do I wish ill will upon anybody? No. But the matter of the fact is exactly what you said, likely there's going to be people that are gonna end up maybe not losing the property, but be told to sell. Lenders have low incompetence and you are going to be told to sell if you're not hitting your numbers. And so you're going to be forced, basically forced to sell and yeah, you're right. A lot of those people had no clue what they're doing or even if they did have a clue what they're doing, they were just going about it the wrong way, or they're going after these properties for fees. I think that's a lot of things. A lot of what was happening is people are going, wow, I can do this deal. I can syndicate it and I can make $300,000 right up front on this deal. That's a great payday Al's I need to do is one to two of those each year. And I'm doing really well. And some people are doing two, maybe three deals a year, they're making 600 to a million dollars, man. They didn't care how good the deal was. That's, Unfortunately I think what was happening.

Chris Miles (13:21): Yeah. No, there's, there's definitely, I've seen that. I have definitely seen that out there and you're right. Like we don't want people to have to sell off, like in a sense of just being, you know, selling off for dirt cheap or anything like that, you know, I would more see like where's the opportunity of increasing profits and it's something that's already there. Right. It's like, you know, where they just didn't operate it well, and yeah. In your opinion, like right now, I mean, what are you seeing? Are you seeing like good deals or you see in most everything's just junk currently?

Todd Dexheimer (13:50): Yeah. So currently I would say we haven't seen much adjustment. The sellers aren't quite ready to take a discount and yeah, I don't need the salaries to take a bath. Like I don't need, in order for me to feel comfortable with the buy. It's not like I need the sellers to sell for 40% discount or something like that now would that be great? Sure. You know, I need the sellers to come off of their, their price by let's call it 10%, maybe 15% and then, okay, I'm ready to, I'm ready to start buying. For me, my company. We don't need to buy Properties, dirt cheap. Now will we? If that happens. Absolutely. But all right. It's still about the fundamentals of the piece of real estate and how the numbers work and can we get our business plan to be able to take any, can we execute it? And so that's what really important part. So...

Chris Miles (14:43): Yeah. What kind of cash flow or NOI can you get from it? Right?

Todd Dexheimer (14:46): Yup. So I've been talking to a lot of brokers that deal in my space and they're kind of the same, most sellers are looking for right now between a 10% and a 20% discount or sorry, most buyers are looking for a 10% to 20% discount. Most sellers are well expecting to sell either at the previous high or within at least 10%. So they, I have heard from brokers, but a lot of sellers are understanding. They've got to come down 5% to 10% and but most buyers are actually even more than that. So we've got a gap there eventually that'll close.

Chris Miles (15:22): Yeah. It's got to take some time before they start adjusting and believing the numbers and say, okay.

Todd Dexheimer (15:27): Real estate. It's not the stock market. I mean, you're right, Chris. I mean the stock market goes like this and actually overreacts quickly. Where real estate actually Under reacts and takes a while for those, those drops to happen.

Chris Miles (15:41): Isn't that the beautiful thing about real estate? Is that it doesn't happen overnight. Right. Where people are used to, if they'd been watching the stock market, it's, it's painful to watch. You can't watch it, you know, without freaking out, you know. Where at least the real estate there's slow adjustments typically. I mean, whether the price go down or up, usually there's there's time involved.

Todd Dexheimer (16:00): Yup. Yeah. I mean, right now I've got a property on the market and I have priced at about the 15% below where I would have expected to sell it just a few months ago and I'm kicking myself because I should have sold it in January, but I didn't know this was happening for some reason.

Chris Miles (16:16): Of course.

Todd Dexheimer (16:17): But I still want to sell the property and I'm happy to take a 15% discount because quite frankly, it's still gonna, I'm still gonna do really well on it. And I see there's opportunity potentially coming. So I'd rather take that capital, be able to have it, be able to do it. Okay. Put it out there when better deals do come. So right now, if you're wanting to be a seller, it's Still sell because real estate slowly, as you said, it's going to take awhile.

Chris Miles (16:43): That's a good point, too. Like you said, you don't always have to find bad deals. It could be someone just like you, who already bought a great deal. It's appreciated, you know, you've add value to it. And of course now price is great. Even if you have to take a discount, you're still gonna make good, good money on it. So there's plenty of those deals too.

Todd Dexheimer (16:59): Yup.

Chris Miles (16:59): Well, great. Well how like, like tell us more about your show, the Pillars of Wealth Creation Show. Tell us about that.

Todd Dexheimer (17:05): Yeah. So Pillars of Wealth Creations, mainly a real estate show, but we're, we also talk to a lot of people that not aren't necessarily real estate investors first and foremost. So we're, the show is kind of more catered towards the business side of the real estate. Like not necessarily talking the nuts and bolts of real estate. I can learn that in a book for the most part. And there's a lot of other podcasts that talk about nuts and bolts. But one of the big things that we like to focus on is how do you really build a business the right way? So how do we take cause so many real estate investors are transactional, right? They think they think about real estate as just buying a piece of property and that's it. And then we're going to, we're going to be passive, right? We're going to buy this piece of property. We're gonna buy this a hundred unit apartment. And then we're going to be able to sit back on the beach and relax. Cause now we got all this cash flow. Well, that's not how it works. If you want to do that, then you need to passively truly passively invest in real estate.

Chris Miles (18:05): That's right.

Todd Dexheimer (18:07): But, if you're going to buy the piece of property and that you're going to be a part of that deal, you've got to be an active business owner. You've got to learn how to make a business plan. You've got to learn, you know, how to set up systems and processes. And you've got to learn how to build teams. You've got to do all the things that a regular business owner does. And so many real estate investors have no clue that that's even part of what they should be learning.

Chris Miles (18:28): It's so true. Like I'm in a kind of a high level mastermind group where you usually have to have at least a hundred doors to be in that group. And it's so common even with those guys, those guys who legitimately do have a business, right. Even for them to say, Oh, like I am getting up at 4:00AM, 5:00 AM to basically get to work and just hammer this out. And I'm trying to manage everybody. And I don't know if I should have a CEO or not, or a COO or, you know, they're like going nuts. They went from just trying to make money on a few flips and deals like that. And now they're like, man, like just to make these millions of dollars, I have no life like no real passive income. And, and that's a big difference. There's a big difference in lifestyle between that active investor, right? The person that is a business owner versus those that are just passively investing in. Like some sort of what you offer.

Todd Dexheimer (19:14): Yup. Yup. Absolutely.

Chris Miles (19:17): Yeah. Well, great. So obviously like if people follow your show, you, when you talk about syndications, you're probably talking about your syndications and deals you're doing right then too. Right. If you're, if people are looking for passive investments, you've got to, you've got your own funds as well, right?

Todd Dexheimer (19:30): Yeah. You know, on the show, I try not to, I don't probably talk too much about the deals as are going, but if we, when we close on a deal, I usually will give kind of a, Hey, here's what we did. Here are the lessons we learned along the way, you know, here's maybe some things we, you know, found in due diligence and why we made adjustments. And so we'll talk about, yeah, there's a lot of mistakes and lessons learned even along active deals, I've been doing this for a while, but I still make mistakes. I still learn a lot of things on every single deal that I feel like it can bring to my audience and allow them to hopefully learn as well. From what I've learned from my mistakes. So...

Chris Miles (20:13): Well, the thing I love is what you do is you're not the kind of guy to say, Hey, this deal looks awesome. Like you're not just, you know, running around like a monkey with a machine gun. Right. You're actually like, Hey, this deal doesn't fit my parameters, next. Okay. Like takes me 30 seconds. See this, this one's a no, like you just keep passing and passing. And those are like the best investors in my mind are the ones that say no to almost everything just like Warren Buffett did. He would always say, I say no to almost everything. And yes, the very, very few things, you know, and then you have to, you have to right. Like, there's, you can't be successful if you're just chasing after every little deal, you're going to have big, you're gonna have losses and maybe some gains, but you're gonna have a lot of losses. You won't be in business very long.

Todd Dexheimer (20:52): Yeah. A hundred percent. Yeah. I mean, Warren Buffett's obviously a pretty smart man. And you know, there, he says that for a reason, there's so many deals out there and those are deals for everybody else. Not for me.

Chris Miles (21:06): Yeah. I actually remember him. He said a quote. And he said that to one of my friends in an interview, he said the difference between the successful and the ultra successful is that the ultra successful say no, almost every time.

Todd Dexheimer (21:16): Yeah.

Chris Miles (21:17): You know, I know it's true. And I know you're that kind of guy too. So same way as you know, listeners, you guys, those who are following this, like check out his website, for sure. What's, do you have a website that people could follow?

Todd Dexheimer (21:30): Yeah. A couple of websites, Pillars of Wealth Creation. They can get to my podcast and then just my general website, which should, they can actually still get to my podcasts or that is at VentureDProperties.com. So it's venture and then D as in dog or Dexheimer properties.com.

Chris Miles (21:49): Awesome. Yeah. I'll definitely make sure we get to get those links in the show notes. So if you can follow you, follow your show or even check out your site and get to know you more, obviously, especially if people are looking for investing in opportunities and things of that nature, because obviously you're looking right now, you're actively looking for the right deals. Not just any deal.

Todd Dexheimer (22:06): Yeah. Looking for the right deals and there's opportunities that are going to come down the pipeline. And I think the important part for people that right now to be just thinking about is, what are the paradigms that are going to be shifting through this whole event, right? People's paradigm shift. Consumers, thoughts are going to shift, workers habits are going to shift. So there's going to be different things that are going to come out of this. And how can we make sure we're positioning ourselves to be able to take advantage of the opportunities that are in front of us. And it's not necessarily take advantage of other people. It's take advantage of the people's wants and needs that, you know, the consumers wants and needs out there. If you can best serve them. I think you're going to have a lot of success. And that's what I'm working with. Multifamily with real estate in general, I consider myself a value add real estate investor multifamily. I love a lot, but I also look at other asset classes. So we look at, you know, what are the strengths and weaknesses? What are the trends? Where do we, I think that things are going to be going, and we're trying to make the best decisions obviously for ourselves and our investors on that.

Chris Miles (23:06): Yeah. Working to improve upon something and make it better, you know, for everybody. Right. And that's...

Todd Dexheimer (23:10): Absolutely!

Chris Miles (23:12): What cooler way to make money than actually bettering people's lives and making money from that? I mean, that's the way life and that's where the world should be in my opinion. Yeah. Well, great. Hey, I appreciate your time so much Todd. Like this is awesome. Again, everybody check out the links in the show notes, you know, follow his podcast or check out his site. So everybody, you remember, it's all about patience. It's all about looking for the right thing. Not just anything but the very right thing. So follow Todd and everybody, I hope you make it a wonderful and prosperous week. We'll see you later!

#Chris Miles #Anti-financial Advisor #Cash flow #Cash flow Expert #Debts #Entrepreneur #Financial Freedom #Money Ripples

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daybreak-delusion · 4 years

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Chapter 2

Introduction: Whitney Goodwinson was planning on inheriting one of her deceased grandmother's properties, but not a little house off the coast of North Carolina. As she struggles to meet new people, fix up her new property, deal with troublemaker JJ Maybank, and perfect her grandmother's infamous lemonade she might just find that the Outer Banks has more to offer than it seems.

Series Masterlist

L.A.X. was packed per usual. I let George, my family's chauffeur, know what gate to let me out at. My flight was leaving at 9:00 P.M. which sucked but at least I could sleep on the plane right? Wrong. I swear, why do people travel with children? After the 8-hour flight landed I looked for my driver and my luggage. Because of the late notice, I flew into an airport in Virginia and had to drive another hour to the dreaded Outer Banks. After packing up my bags and carry-on we were finally on the road. I absolutely cannot sleep in cars so I was awake the whole time fiddling with the keys to the house. Finally, after nine hours of traveling, we finally arrived at a cool 3 o’clock in the morning.

My mind was a little hazy, but what I first noticed was the blanked of humidity and the buzzing of mosquitoes. Also, the “shack” was more like a cottage which was a pleasant surprise. There stood the yellow house in the moonlight waiting for me to open up its doors. Did I mention it was yellow? Not like a vibrant highlighter yellow, but a pale yellow. The cottage was in a wide-open grassy space with tall trees surrounding the property. I could hear the sound of waves crashing on a shore which was a bonus, I’d have to check it out once I could keep my eyes open for more than 20 seconds.

The front of the house was symmetrical with a door in the middle and two shutter windows on either side. There were dead flowers in the plant boxes underneath the window and cobwebs on the door handle. The driver, Paul, helped me bring my luggage into the cottage. I unlocked the door and it led into the living room, on the right, there was a mud closet and the left opened into a large living room. Wow for an older woman the home had a very modern look. The living room had sleek, black wooden floors, with a white U-shaped couch facing a flat-screen TV that hung above a fireplace. The walls were decorated with paintings of various landscapes and oceans. To the left of the TV, a doorway led to the kitchen and dining room with a door to the backyard separating the two areas. The place was decorated with lemons like lemon themed everything. Lemons decorated tablecloths, cups, and there was even a lemon shaped teapot. The kitchen table was set as if Grandmother was expecting company, placemats, plates, utensils and wine glasses were set in place with a thin layer of dust on them. Decorated with you guessed it; lemons. The other side of the living room led to another doorway and a hallway. To the right end of the hallway was the master bedroom, Grandmother's bedroom. Yeah, I was sleeping in the guest bedroom that was towards the left. On my way there I passed the laundry room and bathroom. The bedroom was similar to the living room, mostly white with lavender colored accents. A queen-sized bed with a white-colored comforter and about twenty lavender and white pillows sat in the middle of the room with a dresser on each side. Across from the bed sat a vanity desk with a lavender trimmed mirror. A big closet was on the right side of the room and the left had two big windows. Thank goodness, I thought it was hot outside? Inside it was 10X worse. I opened the windows, changed into some pajamas, and dived into the bed ready for a long, long sleep.

At least that’s what I thought. I woke up to the most annoying noise in the world, a lawnmower. With the windows open the noise was almost deafening. I practically fell out of bed and rushed to the window to see a boy with golden blond hair in a grey wife beater and some tacky kaki shorts pushing a lawnmower. I threw on my silk robe over my sleepwear and rushed out to the yard. Going through the back door of the kitchen I found the door led to a wrap-around porch that had an outside sitting area, decorated with Grandmother's favorite citrus, lemons. Never mind that though I was beyond furious. It must have been like 6 o’clock in the morning. Outside the sun was already blazing making the stone path extremely hot on my bare feet. I noticed the path led to a boating dock with chairs, a fire pit, and a boat tied to it? It looked like it was in good condition just a little dusty, just like everything around here. Anyways back to the matter at hand, the boy had his back to me so he didn’t see me.

“Hey, Heyyy!!! Golden boy!” Geez was this guy def? I was right behind him screaming, but he didn’t even flinch. Then suddenly my life flashed before my eyes as he turned the lawnmower of death towards me. The blades were close to cutting off my toes as I jumped back with a scream. The boy looked just as startled as I did stumbling back.

“What is wrong with you!” I screamed.

“What!?”

“I said what is wrong with you!?”

“Sorry I can’t hear you,” he replied, taking out his earphones, I could hear the hard rock music from here, “what did you say?” He replied with a stupid cheesy smile while looking me up and down. I then realized I was wearing my skimpiest pajamas and wrapped my robe closer around me.

“I said what is wrong with you? Who mows a lawn this early in the morning?”

“Early in the morning-“

“And who are you!?”

“Well if-“

“And what are you doing here!?”

“Geeze sunshine if you’d just let me talk.”

“Fine speak”

“Well thanks for the permission, first of all, it’s noon so I don’t know what morning is to you but the normal world sees this as the afternoon and I’m mowing the law.”

“Obviously, but why are you here?”

“Cuz’ I’m getting paid”

“How? The person who lived here is… is dead,” I replied, stammering a bit.

“Yeah, I know Mrs. Goodwinson passed away. She paid me in advance for the whole summer,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh okay, then why- wait did you say it was noon?” I said, panic rising in my voice.

“Yeah, 12:23 to be exact,” he said looking at his phone.

“Oh shit,” my mom's friends were coming by at 12:30 to look at the house and I still had airport hair. “Whatever just when you’re done I’d like to discuss your job in the house please.”

“Sure thing your highness”

I ran back to the cottage and into my room and quickly stripped off my pajamas. Suddenly I heard a low whistle from outside the window.

“Aye I didn’t know the view from here could be so good,” chuckled Golden Boy from outside the window.

Screaming I dropped to the floor and army-crawled to the window. I gave the boy a rude gesture which resulted in his annoying laugh. I closed the window curtains and got up to get dressed. Just a second later I heard a knock on the door.

“Just a second,” I hollered from my room. I pulled on the first dress from the top of my suitcase, which was a simple green sundress with white flowers, and quickly brushed my hair into a ponytail. Thank goodness I was dressed decently because when I opened the door the family in front of me looked like they could be on the cover of some high living magazine.

“Hi you must be Whitney it is so nice to meet you, we are the Camerons!” said a shrill voice.

Oh boy.

a/n: Thank you so much fo reading it really means a lot to me! This chapter was a little spicer and I actually got the interaction from a dream I had which is kinda embarrassing to admit, but oh well. Next two chapters should be up on Thursday! Also if you literally have any questions and care enough to message me pls do so. I’m willing to explain anything! Thanks again!

#jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x original character #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fandom #jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fandom #obx #obx fandom #obx fanfiction #jj outer banks

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aheartstillbeating · 4 years

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Something I've been working on. This may be chapter 1. Let me know what you think. I can take critiques. Beginner writer but it's what I love to do... it doesnt have a title yet. PM if you want. God bless.

I can still see her standing there near the shore, a giant beach towel wrapped around her. Her hair was blowing in the wind as she anchored her toes in the sand to help her stand steady. It was the end of summer and just as the cold weather was about to come through, so was she about to blow out of this town and head back to wherever she called home. She would be gone forever and things would go back to the way they were before... Before she came in like a hurricane. It may be cliche to say, but she truly came in and wrecked my whole world. Here I was, a small-town boy in southern Georgia planning to spend my summer on the beach. A little work here and there with my dad at his landscaping business. You know, trim a few bushes, mow a few yards, keep it simple. Easy-peasy. Never did I expect to meet a beautiful red-headed angel dressed in lace and pearls. She was a walking natural disaster, according to her friends. They tried several times to convince me not to get involved.

"She's just a heart-breaker." One would say.

"She will eat you alive." Another chimed in

All I could say to these warnings was, "Yeah, it's possible. Did you see those gorgeous blue eyes though?"

There is an amazing phenomenon that takes place as the sun sinks down over the horizon into the depths of the ocean. An eclipse if you will. That flash, so brief that the naked eye can barely see it, that is the only thing I can think of that can come close to the magic I see in that smile of hers. I've met a lot of girls in my time down by the beach. I've lived all of my life on the coast of one of Georgia's many beaches. On one side I have the ocean, a gateway to the world all around. On the other, an interstate that transverses the entire continental United States. Sadly those options of exploration keep bringing in tourists. Usually, if I'm honest, it gets quite annoying. Traffic increase. Confused people everywhere stopping me to ask if I know how to find the "white sand" as described in one of the brochures at the local rest stop. I just not and point.

That worked up until a very different kind of day. Have you ever had one of those days where NOTHING seemed to work right? This day takes the cake, I promise. My plan was to just hit the beach. Lay in the sand and chill. I even bought a twelve-pack of Dew. I only do that on special occasions. You know what they say about plans changing? Well, I'm pretty sure my dad started that. I had no sooner put the cooler in the truck when my phone rang.

"Yeah Dad, what's up?"

"Hey Conner, what are you doing?" Dad responded

"I'm about to head to the beach. Do you need something?" Please, please, please don't say you do, I thought

"Yeah, actually I have to run into the city for the day. It turns out my delivery of mulch has been delayed and I'm going to go get it sorted out."

"Okay. What does that have to do with me?"

"I need you to head over to the Abernathy house and trim their bushes. You know they have the premium package for the summer so make sure you do any extra trimming that you see needs done."

"But Dad, I just worked..."

"Conner, please?" I hate when he says please

"Yeah Dad. I got it."

"Thanks. The trailer is already loaded, just stop over here and hook it to your truck."

"Did you fix the weed eater yet? You know it's been acting up."

"Not yet. Haven't had a chance. Just mess with it. I'm sure you can get it to work. I'll try and grab one while I'm in the city."

"Alright. Thanks. Be safe Dad. See you soon."

"Thanks son. You too. Sorry to steal your day."

"It's okay. You'll just have to make it up to me later."

"You got it. I'll give you the weekend off."

"That works." I laughed. "See ya." I hung up the phone before he had a chance to change his mind.

So with that, I headed to my parent's house to get the trailer. Not only was the trailer hitch broken, it also had a flat tire. After half an hour and not one but two smashed thumbs, I was on the road toward the Abernathy household when my radio in the truck decides to crap out. No tunes. I could use my phone with my headphones, but that means it'll be dead before I finish work. No music for now.

I pull into the Abernathy drive just in time to see their dog, Buttercup come running toward the gate. A stupid name for such a large dog, but it wasn't my choice. Was the gate locked? Of course not! "The premium package" meant we have to take care of the animals on the premise as well. I jump out of the truck and run to latch the gate. The Doberman had other plans.

I was fast enough to get my pinkie and ring finger just inside the pink spike collar as she ran past me. I held on with all that I had and was able to drag the giant back into the gate. Thankfully I've been drinking those protein shakes my sister suggested.

I was able to latch the gate and put Buttercup in her kennel but not before she got a good bite of my favorite blue jeans. Needless to say, they were toast. From the left knee down was now the property of the beast.

After looking around, I noticed a few branches out of sorts on the bushes in front of the house. I grabbed the shears and put my headphones in. "Time to terminate." I mumbled while holding the shears in front of my face.

I clipped the few branches, which mind you, are full of thorns and dug around the bases of the bushes to make sure it looked "perfect." Would I recommend the "premium package" to anyone else? Absolutely not. It's good money, but is it really necessary to make sure that the mulch is exactly where it is supposed to be? Whatever. The nearly twelve new small cuts on my hands provided a wonderful sting as I hoisted the weed eater off the trailer. I should probably edge around the sidewalk going up to the house before I head out. Wouldn't want the grass to be an eighth of an inch too high over the bricks.

I pulled once, twice, three times. No luck. There is gas in it so that's not the problem. I was getting really frustrated. I threw it down and headed back toward the truck to get the oil when I heard this loud "Honk."

What now? I thought.

I turned in time to see an incredibly beautiful red-headed queen jump down out of a ruby red Jeep. Here I was, completely covered in dirt and dust so thick that even I forgot what color my shirt was. None of that mattered though. To me, the entire world melted. This freckle-faced beauty of about five foot five walked right up to me. Clearly she was in the wrong place. She wasn't going to talk to me, right? Maybe she was a friend of the Abernathy's. I was wrong.

"Hey, Hi... Um... Hi." I'm really good at this, if you can't tell.

"Hey, I'm..."

"I like bread..." facepalm

"Okay. That's good. I like mine toasted."

"Cool... me too."

"So, where can we find this white sand that everyone keeps talking about?"

"Um... white... yeah..."

"Do you know?" She was so beautiful.

"Yeah... It's... Just go that way" I pointed.

"Thanks." She said as she turned to head back toward the Jeep.

"Yeah... Any... Sure." I stammered.

I watched as she climbed back into the back of the Jeep. Three very beautiful women were about to drive away when I heard, "Come find me later, Bread."

"Okay..." I called back.

What a way to make an impression. Her friends just laughed. One even looked me up and down shaking her head. Even though the blond riding shotgun shouted "Good Luck," I couldn't help but be intrigued by the challenge in that sexy redhead's amazing blue eyes.

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tree-experts-blog · 5 years

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Tree Service Contractors For Hire in Austin Neighborhood

Our areas of expertise include trimming, pruning, thinning, crown reduction, topping, tree removal, stump grinding and hillside clean up for fire regulations. If tree and lawn maintenance is a problem, you deserve a company that respects your time and property. Our main concern is your wellbeing and knowledge of a job well done. Setting the scene plus safeguarding the work space is the first thing we do and when everything is ready we complete our job quickly. Everything is cleaned once we are done and you are left with a tidy yard and peace of mind.

https://twitter.com/i/moments/1225562584591425536

Tree Service Contractors For Hire in Austin Neighborhood

The content further down pertaining to tree maintenance is quite entertaining. Don't skip it.

Emerging Options For Picking Primary Details For certified arborist

How To Trim Your Own Trees Many people have been finding out how to conserve the health of their trees! From planting to mulching plus all things in between, folk have really started to work out their green thumbs. Yet regarding tree trimming, it is best to get some pointers before you begin working with pruning equipment. After all, one wrong move and you could kiss your tree bye bye! Here is what you have to know concerning successful Do it yourself tree-trimming: Be Safety Conscious Before you start, it is important to protect yourself from injury, even if you are trimming a small tree. Always wear some goggles (this can prevent splinters from getting into your eyes), thick pruning gloves and a helmet. In addition, make sure that any ladder you use is sturdy plus firmly rooted on the ground, otherwise you can really hurt yourself in a fall. Since of course, your tree trimming efforts will go to waste should you wind up in the hospital! The Secret is In The Cut When clipping, do not cut any branch too tightly to the trunk of the tree; a risky move like this can backfire, as healthy bark will probably be torn off of the base of the tree when the limb is removed. On the other hand, you really do not want to leave a lot of the dead branch behind. Look for a happy medium by trimming at the collar of the branch, which should leave a bit of a stump. Know When To Trim Most landscaping specialists and arborists recognize that you could trim most trees at any time. There are some species of trees as well as fruit trees that you may prefer to trim during the fall months, but most trees could be trimmed any time of the season. Do Not Undertake Major Sections You ought to know when you should bring in a professional when the job is way too big, so if you are thinking about taking on any big limbs yourself, set down the equipment and back away. Major limbs need to be removed by a professional, so ask your arborist to handle the bigger and more hazardous tasks.

The Advantages of Cutting Trees

While homeowners are often dedicated to mowing and maintaining their lawn, they tend to overlook trees when it comes to lawn maintenance. Trees don't need cutting as often as grass, flowers or shrubs, so annual pruning is usually sufficient. However, if you are hesitant to hire a professional tree service, consider the many advantages that come with cutting your trees regularly yourself. You may find that the benefits are well worth the cost or effort.

Improved Appearance

Cutting the trees on your property can help improve their appearance. Regular pruning can ensure that trees maintain an attractive and appropriate shape and train them to grow in a particular direction or shape. Removing old fruit clusters or faded flowers can also help encourage the growth of new fruit and blooms. Because trees are usually one of the larger elements in your landscape, keeping them neat and trim makes a significant impact on the overall look of your property.

Improved Health

When cutting trees, remove any broken, diseased or dead sections. Doing so prevents fungi or bacteria that might rot other areas of the tree from spreading further. In addition, if a tree becomes overgrown, the branches can become crowded, which may weaken them. Removing excess growth can promote better air circulation and greater sun exposure as well, both of which are necessary for the overall health of your trees.

Safety

When a tree has weak or diseased branches, strong winds or storms are more likely to blow them around. If a tree branch should fall across a sidewalk, driveway or road, it could seriously injure passing individuals. In addition, if you allow trees to grow unchecked, they may begin to put pressure on your roof, neighbors’ home or power lines that run to your home. Cutting them back can help reduce the possibility of tree branches falling and causing damage to physical structures during heavy storms.

Increased Structural Integrity

With newly planted trees, conscientious cutting can ensure that they grow in a structurally sound way. It helps the trees to become sturdy and encourages the branches to grow in a balanced, symmetrical way. This type of structure improves the trees’ chances of surviving without problems going forward and helps prevent the need for structural support as they develop.

Improved Visibility

Keeping your trees neat and trim improves visibility for your landscape. Overgrown trees may block views from your home’s windows or deck, which can be frustrating. They can also block other elements in your landscape or architectural details of your home that you might wish to showcase. However, you can still utilize your tree cover to provide privacy around your home if you are careful about the way you cut it.

https://www.gardenguides.com/12542147-the-advantages-of-cutting-trees.html

We had been introduced to that write-up about tree clearing through a friend on another blog. Sharing is good. Helping others is fun. Thank you for your time. Don't forget to pay a visit to our blog back soon.

Regardles, make safety your key concern. You may accomplish the task yourself but be certain that you know what you are doing and that you have taken safety measures.

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michaelconlon-blog1 · 5 years

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Keep Buffalo Clean

Michael Conlon

Keep Buffalo Clean

Littering is an issue that occurs across the planet. Living in the United States of America, when I travel, I always see garbage laying around, where it shouldn’t be. I never realized how bad of a problem it was until I was lucky enough to travel to different countries, and realized how clean they were compared to us. When I got back home, the first thing I saw as I left the baggage claim of the airport was garbage laying in the street. Not only that, but I also witnessed multiple people throw garbage from their cars out the window. This is when I realized that this sort of behavior was not acceptable, and their needed to be a change. That’s when I came up with the idea of Keep Buffalo Clean.

Compared to where I live on Long Island, I can honestly say that Buffalo looks a lot better than my hometown, although it is not perfect. Buffalo has some spots where there is no garbage, but they have spots that are filled with garbage. The Buffalo News posted an article about some areas of buffalo are covered in plastic and other forms of garbage then can do bad things for the Environment “A big issue with today’s litter is that it is plastic-based. When it gets into the environment, it creates problems. ‘Fast-food packaging and grocery packaging including bags, cigarette butts, bottles, straws, etc., are common things that we find littering our landscapes.’” Litter is always bad for the environment, but plastic itself can be the most toxic of all. Because some forms of plastic are easy to break, it can spread to many areas. Plastic being broken down into small pieces can find their ways into waterways. When this happens, it can affect the human health. Now, you have litter affecting the health of not only yourself, but the people around you. That’s a whole new kind of dangerous. Luckily, this article also states that people are aware of this problem, and some people even organize an event where they come together and clean up certain areas of Buffalo. “Later this spring, Buffalo Niagara Waterkeeper will host its 14th annual Shoreline Sweep. It’s scheduled for 10 a.m. to noon May 11. The event is the largest single-day cleanup in the Buffalo Niagara region with more than 2,000 volunteers picking up trash from about 60 sites. ‘Last year we removed over 20 tons of trash from our shorelines in that two-hour period,” said Jennifer Fee, spokeswoman for Waterkeeper. “This year, the sweep is an anchor event in Waterkeeper Weekend, which kicks off Western New York’s water season.’” It is very encouraging to see people in the area actually care about the environment, but more people need to be involved, and this is definitely a step in the right direction.

There is an article on a website called Buffalo Rising, and they posted an article called “Addressing Litter in Buffalo – What’s the Answer?” This article does a very good job of bringing to light the issue of littering, and they do this by comparing the snow cleaning to garbage cleaning. They bring up a point in how when it snows, the city of Buffalo makes sure that the streets are clear, so the snowplows can clear all the snow out of the area. But “Unlike snowplows that are let loose on designated sides of the street, depending on parking ordinances, there are no designated days to clear a side of the street for street cleaners. Even if there was a street cleaner on the prowl. Is that why there are no sightings of street cleaners anywhere? Is it because they can’t get to the curbs?” The point they are trying to make here is that there is absolutely nothing getting in the way of the snow plows when they are cleaning, but when street cleaners are trying to clean, the roads are completely filled, with running traffic as well as cars parked along the sides of the roads, making it very difficult for people to clean up the streets. They then show a picture of a bunch of garbage piled up along a street in Buffalo, proving their point. If the city really cared about cleaning up the streets of Buffalo, they should make a time during the morning or night times to make sure the roads are clear for street cleaners to do their jobs. The article also mentions how there was a person who sent the author an email explaining how much the litter he saw bothered not only him but his entire family. The city of Buffalo was nice as a whole, but the litter made it a bad experience for them. This is exactly why we need to work together as a community, because the reputation of Buffalo is not as good as it should be.

The Buffalo News has an article titled “My View: Litter is laying waste to our cities and towns”, where a citizen of Buffalo talks about all the garbage they see on the commute to their job. They also talk about the most common types of garbage that they see. They top the list with cigarette butts. There are many of those scattered around the sidewalks and they just increase in numbers day after day. Another common item are a variety of different cans and bottles. They also mention how the 5-cent deposit of trading those in must not matter to some people, because they throw them out their windows anyway. Maybe an increase in the amount you get for recycling would lead to more people saving their cans and disposing them properly. They also mention liquor bottles that are all over the place. It is mind boggling how people just do not care about this. “Team coaches and parents, as your teams come and go from our parks have your team clear the area of litter, leaving the area better than when you arrived.

Landscapers and lawn services, please do not just mow over the litter, shredding it into multiple pieces and making it more difficult to pick up. “Business owners, please do regular rounds of your property, parking lots included. Just 15 minutes a day would go far. City and town sanitation departments, please have more frequent pickups for public garbage cans, and maybe more such containers available. Construction site managers, please be aware of the litter you are creating to minimize its effect on your surroundings. Clubs, organizations, schools, please take up the cause, even teach what littering does to our environment.” When people see litter, most of them thin that someone else will clean it up. They don’t bother. Other people even add on to the litter because they think they are doing no harm, because it is already there. If people actually cared and picked up after themselves, they wouldn’t have to worry about seeing litter. Little things like picking up something you see on the floor can make the city of Buffalo much cleaner then it currently is.

Although littering in Buffalo is an issue that needs lots of work and awareness, there are some people in the community that have actually got involved in helping cleaning the streets. The article “This week in Litter – University Heights, Grant Street, and Allentown” found on Buffalo Rising, a group called the Allentown Litter Mob goes around their town and helps clean up the litter on their streets. They gathered up around nine volunteers to go out to different parts of the city and collect litter. They meet every third Thursday of the month from 6pm-7pm. If they had more volunteers, they could most likely work a lot more, but because of the lack of people in their group, it is difficult for the people to take time out of their days to help out with this cause. “This group, which meets the third Thursday of the month at Fat Bob’s, from 6pm, could use a few more helpful hands. If we all pitch in, this city will be more beautiful than ever, right?” If more people get involved, they can change the perception that other people may have about Buffalo. The article also talks about how they have now increased the fine of littering in Buffalo to $75, which is an upgrade If this law is actually enforced, then it should limit the amount of people who think that it is okay to throw leftovers out their window. One thing that is also mentioned is that only one sign has been located that states this fine, which is not good because less people will see it. If more signs are made, then more people will see it, which will limit the amount of litter that is found, hopefully. If people simply don’t care, then the fine for littering should be increased even more. The higher the fine is, the less likely people will litter. They don’t want to pay the fine. Whatever it takes for people to stop. The city knows this, and they should not be afraid to take advantage. It seems that the Allentown Litter Mob appreciated the shutout that they got, because they ended up inviting the author of the article I just mentioned in their next cleanup. In a different article, “This Week in Litter – Buffalo Trash Talkers”, the author who was invited from the previous article talks about her experience in helping this group clean. “After posting a shout out on Buffalo Rising, nine volunteers met earlier today to tackle the mess on West Ferry, emanating one block east from the corner of Grant Street. We met over at Albert’s café for coffee at 10am, before embarking upon the cleanup. I’ve been involved with a lot of cleanups over the years, but I’ve never seen anything quite like this. Over the course of a couple of blocks, we accumulated upwards of ten garbage bags of litter.” This group does an outstanding job of helping clean the streets of Buffalo, although it may not sound like that much, they do it with a small number of people, and they work very hard to clean their home. If more people get involved in groups like Allentown Litter Mob, Buffalo can be a much cleaner place. WKBW Buffalo news had a clip on their news cast that explained a new hashtag on social media that is made for motivating people to stop littering, called #Trashtag. People post this hashtag with a picture somewhere in Buffalo where there is a lot of garbage, and then following that picture is a picture of the area fully cleaned. It is so good to see people using social media to raise awareness for littering in Buffalo, and it has been spreading across users in Buffalo.

There are many people in buffalo trying to make a difference and clean up after themselves, but much more people are needed to be able to truly make a difference. My organization, Keep Buffalo Clean, is hopefully going to make people want to come together and make that change. I will definitely be using the Trashtag hashtag and try to unite as many people as I can to clean this place up. Let’s make Buffalo a better, cleaner place.

Works Cited

Pignataro, T.J. “Buffalo's Windy Winter Gives Way to a Litter-Filled Spring.” The Buffalo News, The Buffalo News, 28 Mar. 2019, buffalonews.com/2019/03/27/trashy-leftovers-from-wnys-winter-beckon-calls-for-citizen-cleanups/.

Queenseyes. “Addressing Litter in Buffalo - What's the Answer?” Buffalo Rising, 14 Aug. 2018, www.buffalorising.com/2018/08/addressing-litter-in-buffalo-whats-the-answer/.

Queenseyes. “This Week in Litter - Buffalo Trash Talkers.” Buffalo Rising, 22 Sept. 2018, www.buffalorising.com/2018/09/this-week-in-litter-buffalo-trash-talkers/.

Queenseyes. “This Week in Litter - University Heights, Grant Street, and Allentown.” Buffalo Rising, 16 Aug. 2018, www.buffalorising.com/2018/08/this-week-in-litter-university-heights-grant-street-and-allentown/.

Thornburg, Rebecca. “#Trashtag Challenge Motivating People to Stop Littering.” WKBW, 14 Mar. 2019, www.wkbw.com/news/local-news/trashtag-challenge-motivating-people-to-stop-littering.

View, My. “My View: Litter Is Laying Waste to Our Cities and Towns.” The Buffalo News, The Buffalo News, 30 June 2018, buffalonews.com/2018/06/29/my-view-litter-is-laying-waste-to-our-cities-and-towns/.

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reylo-solo · 6 years

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Reylo neighbors

I had way too much fun writing this and I DEFINITELY got carried away, lol. Thanks for the prompt!

Read it on AO3.

➳ Say It With Roses

The house at 515 ParkwoodCrescent was built in the early 1950’s. It had a beautiful widow’s walk and anenclosed porch, picture windows, a cobblestone walkway, and a lovely fenced-inbackyard, perfect for parties. It had also been vacant for two and a half years.

Every morning when Ben Solo wokeup, he would take his cup of coffee and drag his feet over to his living room,where he would gaze sternly out the bay window and his eyes would always roamover the weathered ‘For Sale’ sign next door to his house. He would think tohimself, For Christ’s sake, is the placehaunted or something? He had seen any number of people get a tour inside bythe realtor over the last two and a half years, and not a single one had madean offer on it. They always left smiling, but it never amounted to a damnedthing.

Thecompany that oversaw the management of the lot consistently forgot to mow thelawn, and Ben consistently had to phone and complain to remind them. It drovehim insane. The picketed half-fence his property shared with that house waspristine on his end, but was peeling and hideous on the other side.

BenSolo was a perfectionist. He liked things to be just as he wanted them to be,no more, no less. He liked things to be kept tidy. 515 Parkwood Crescent hadnot been tidy in almost three years. So obviously, this was a big point ofcontention for him.

Untilone fateful morning when Ben’s alarm roused him from his deep slumber at 7:30.He all but fell out of bed, stretched, and put his comfortable sheepskin suede slipperson to walk downstairs to the kitchen. This time when he looked out his window,something was different. The ‘For Sale’ sign had changed. Now, it boldlyproclaimed ‘SOLD’.

“Holyshit,” Ben cursed under his breath, “it’s finally happening.”

Nowcame the anxious wait. Who had bought it? Was it a family? A single person,like himself? Would they be lazy, or proactive? Would they keep their lawn niceand orderly? Would they have children? God forbid they had a dog, whoever it was. Dogs always chewedup gardens, and Ben had a lovely row of prize roses along his side of the fencethat he would sure like to keep planted in the soil.

Therest of May went by quickly, with no signs of life next door. But Ben knew howthis worked. They would get possession on the 1st of June, and afterthat he would know who his new neighbour(s) would be.

Hehad grown oddly used to having no one living on that side of his house. Forinstance, he had enjoyed walking about naked with the blinds on that side open,because no one could see him, especially when he was upstairs in his room withits window that faced the vacant house. It would suck not to be able to do thatanymore, but if it meant the fence would get painted he supposed he should begrateful.

June1st came and went. There were no moving trucks that day, but Ben didspot an old Volkswagen car parked out front and some lights on inside thehouse. He wondered if he shouldn’t go over and say hello, but then heremembered that Mrs. Graham, who lived on the other side of his house, had donethat when he had first moved in, and he still kind-of resented her for it. No, he thought. I’d better give them a few days to get situated first.

By June 2nd, the moving trucks werethere. He saw them in the morning when he was going to work, and spotted some movingcompany workers laboriously hauling a heavy-looking leather loveseat into thehouse. But still no sign of the occupant(s).

Hedidn’t have to wait much longer, however. When he came home from work at 6:00on the dot, grabbed his briefcase from the backseat, and began heading up hiswalkway, he was surprised to hear excitable yipping getting closer and closerto him. When he looked down he saw a small blur of white and brown.

“You’vegot to be kidding me,” he grumbled under his breath. “A fucking dog.”

Indeed,the rambunctious little pup, with the brown spot on its rump and the streaks ofrust colour in its ears, was jumping up at Ben’s legs, stubby little tailwagging in pure euphoria. Ben looked down at the dog with unbridled distaste.

“Bo! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Ben’shead snapped up at the sound of a human – female – voice. A petite brunette waslaunching herself off the porch of 515 Parkwood Crescent, rushing down thecobblestone walkway, crossing over into Ben’s yard, and scooping the pup upinto her arms. Ben was stunned into paralyzed silence.

Shewas young, not far into her 20’s, with lively eyes and a sun-kissed, bronzecomplexion. Wherever she had come from, it had been warm there. Freckles weresplashed across the bridge of her nose, a few dabbled along her cheekbones. Hersmile was 10,000-watt; so bright and intoxicating in nature. She had her hairpulled up in a bun and she wore a ragged old tank-top and camo cut-offs. Shehad a touch of periwinkle paint smeared across her left shoulder and dirt underher fingernails. She extended a hand to Ben.

“Hi,I’m your new neighbour, Rey.”

Benswallowed, surprised at just how dry his throat felt. He shook her hand firmly.

“Myname’s Ben. Nice to meet you, and your, uh, dog.” He said the last word with justthe right amount of sour inflection.

Reyblushed lightly. Ben could feel his own face warming significantly.

“Yeah,again, I’m sorry. He slipped out right when I opened the door. He really likesmeeting new people.”

“Howcute.” Ben muttered.

Thetwo spoke for a short while. Rey told Ben all the minor details he couldpossibly want to know. She had grown up in London as an orphan, and had justfinished travelling the world with a photography scholarship. Apparently shewas world-renowned, but Ben had never heard of her. She was doing a lot ofrenovation work to the house and couldn’t wait to “put down roots here”. Benhad been as cordial as he possibly could be. In truth he didn’t mind listeningto her speak. Her accented voice was intoxicating. But eventually her spellbroke when little Bo took to barking at a biker riding down the street,squirming in his owner’s toned arms.

“Ah,you’ll have to excuse me. I need to get him back inside before his little heartjust can’t take the excitement anymore. It was really lovely to meet you,though. I hope we can talk again soon over the fence someday!”

Bensmiled stiffly, eyeing Bo with a healthy amount of wariness. “I’m sure wewill.”

Thetwo parted ways. After that their contact was minimal for a couple of weeks.Ben was busy with work and was out of the house six days out of the week (onthe seventh he stayed in his man cave watching terrible movies on Netflix inhis pyjamas, smoking one premium joint at around 5 p.m. – his special secrettradition to thank himself for getting through the week without killinganyone). Rey, on the other hand, clearly remained busy on her renovations. Benwould see lights on in the house into the wee hours of the morning, and if hewent outside on his deck and listened closely, he could hear muted hammeringnoises and soft, echoing music playing from somewhere inside the house. Hecan’t say he wasn’t curious about what she was doing in there. The interior ofthe house was beautiful wood and tile, with a stone fireplace, and crown moulding. It was a mid-centuryantique-lover’s dream. Surely shewasn’t making the mistake of trying to modernizeit?

Theymet once more in the evening on a Tuesday, when Ben was on his knees along thefence line, pruning his roses. Rey walked by with a heavy-looking camera bagslung over her shoulder and a binder full of papers in her arm. She gave himthat dazzling smile of hers, which made his heart actually skip a beat, on herway by.

“Evening!”she chirped. “Your roses are absolutely lovely. I’d love to have a garden likeyours someday!”

Hesmiled back, somewhat awkwardly. Ben’s smile was usually quite crooked innature; kind-of goofy-looking but in a charming way, like when a dog ‘smiles’.

“Thanks…”he replied belatedly.

Shewas clearly in a hurry. She unloaded her burdens into the backseat of her carand drove off somewhere. Ben went back to work, the look of her smiling faceburned in his brain for the rest of the night.

Reyhad barely been living next-door for a month when The Incident happened. Oh, it was a doozy, in more ways than one.

Benwoke up that morning and sauntered to the kitchen in his slippers and plaidflannel pyjama pants. His hair was a chaotic mess – he had tossed and turned alot in the night; June was turning out to be a hot month, and the fan in hisbedroom couldn’t keep up with the heat. He was just barely awake. He nearly forgotto put a fresh K-cup of breakfast blend into his Keurig. That would have beendisgusting.

Crisisavoided and with a fresh, aromatic mug of hot coffee in his hand, he wanderedover to his window. The sun had just come up, and the morning sky was streakedwith pink and yellow. A rose gold palette of natural beauty. Speaking ofroses…what was wrong with his roses?!

Heblinked and rubbed his eyes, forcing himself to wake up completely. Rich, darkdirt was scattered across his freshly-trimmed lawn, interlaced with shreddedrose petals, leaves, and a couple whole stems, dug out from their home in thesoil. And there, in the midst of it all, was a little white dog butt with abrown spot along the back.

“Areyou fucking shitting me right now?!”Ben bellowed. His coffee was instantly set down and forgotten about.

Bo,having heard Ben’s outburst from the garden, lifted his dirt-stained face up,floppy puppy ears perked towards the noise. When Ben emerged shortly after,still bare-chested in his slippers and PJ pants, with a look of dark fury onhis face, Bo froze in terror, completely unsure of what to do or where to go.

WhenBen got close, Bo suddenly rolled onto his belly, short little tail tucked inshame as much as it could be. Ben bent down and picked the dog up by the scruffof its neck. Bo couldn’t even meet Ben’s eyes.

“Whatthe hell, dog?” Ben snarled. “I can’tfucking believe this shit. It is 7:30 in the goddamn morning, and you’re goingto hurl this crap in my face? I don’t fucking think so…”

Heswiftly moved down his walkway and over into Rey’s yard, carrying the dog allthe way, tucked at his side. His slippers didn’t really make a veryintimidating sound effect as he stomped up the stairs and across the porch toher front door – which she had painted bright red for some fucking reason. Bright red. Fuck. How original. Ben’sknuckles rapped hard on the painted door.

Noanswer. The lights were off inside, but her car was most certainly parked outfront. Nope. No. He was going to get mad at somebody, goddamn it. The dogdidn’t count.

Hepressed the doorbell repeatedly and kicked at the door until finally, finally, she emerged, one eye shut tothe brightness of the morning, hair falling out of its messy bun, wrapped in anold threadbare robe that was much too big on her.

“Whatis going on…?” she mumbled, slowly registering the very angry half-naked manwith a very nice chest she was now facing. “Bo?”

“Yourfucking dog tore up my roses,” Ben growled, holding the dog up so she could seehis face, smeared with the evidence of his crime. “And I have to beg thequestion: what the hell was he doing in my yard at 7:30 in the morning?”

Reyblinked, colour quickly fading from her face. There it is, Ben thought poisonously. There’s that ‘oh, shit’ look I wanted to see.

“I-Iswear I don’t know…there’s a doggy-door out to the backyard. He must havegotten through the fence somehow, I—”

“Well.That fucking sucks, doesn’t it?” Ben spat. “Meanwhile my garden is destroyedbecause you think it’s fine to let him go out without a leash any damn time hewants!”

Rey’sexpression instantly soured. Her eyes narrowed and her chin stuck out.

“Ican assure you he won’t do it again,” she chewed out bitterly.

“Oh,you’re damned right he won’t,” Ben argued. “Because he’s not going to be letout without a leash until he gets his little digging habit under control,right?”

“Howdare you tell me how to take care of my dog?” Rey snarled, taking Bo roughlyfrom Ben’s arms and setting him down at her feet. Bo whined, blatantlyuncomfortable with the situation he had created.

“Wellclearly someone has to!”

“Whydon’t you piss off? Why do you even grow roses? What kind of soft-side bullshitis that?!”

“Whatare you fucking talking about? I’m not allowed to grow fucking roses in my own damn yard?”

“I’mnot allowed to let my dog go outsidein my own damn yard?!”

“Listen,I’ve been here a lot longer than you—”

“Oh,yeah? It shows!” Rey gestured to her facial area, even tugging down on onecheek, clearly suggesting dark circles and eye wrinkles.

“Ohdoes it?!” Ben yelled.

“Yeah,it does!”

Theirbanter was ended by the sound of Mr. Johnson shouting from a couple housesdown, reminding them both of the lovely, peaceful neighbourhood they calledhome:

“Shut the fuck up!”

Theyboth stopped, chests heaving, angry eyes never leaving the other’s face. It wasat this point Ben realized that, oh – Rey sleeps naked.

Thethreadbare robe she had so thoughtfully put on before answering the door washardly cinched at her waist, creating a very deep-V neckline that showed Ben alot more than he had been expecting to see. It only made it more eye-catchingwhen she crossed her arms like that.

Hecouldn’t help the sudden flush in his face. He was the first to break theirstaring contest, and he wasn’t proud of it. Rey had only a second to appreciateher victory before she too realized why she’d won. With a soft gasp she hastilytugged the collar of her robe closed. Now she was vibrantly blushing too, andshe also looked like she wanted to slap him, which in all actuality she hadevery right to do. But she didn’t, and in the moment she couldn’t quiteunderstand why.

“Keepyour dog on your side of the fence,” Ben grumbled. Most of his fire had diedout by now. He jabbed an accusatory hand at her side of the fence in questionas he descended the porch steps. “And for fuck’s sake, would it kill you topaint it?”

Thetwo carefully avoided one another for the next week, always checking out thewindow before daring to go outside. Ben watered his garden in the morning, Reymowed her lawn in the evening. Bo didn’t escape again. He didn’t even bark. Bensaw Rey out painting her side of the fence one day, but he didn’t dare go outand say anything about it. And it went on like this for a whole, painfully longweek. Until the first fault in the ice cracked to life.

Itwas a Saturday morning. Rey was always gone on a run on Saturday mornings, andBen left for work at 9:00. This morning though, when he opened his door at8:57, he had to pause in the threshold. For there, right outside his door andawfully close to the toe of his shoe, was a small potted rose bush,freshly-grown and healthy, with one small, deep-red bloom on top.

Mystified,Ben picked it up. Amidst the leaves and (this was no doubt done on purpose)thorns, there was a small piece of folded-up paper. Fine stationary, made ofsoft natural paper, and written on the outside of the fold in fine, flowyscript, was his name.

Muchto the (likely) chagrin of the sender, he only received one particularly nastyprick on his ring finger when he reached in to grab it. He sucked on this as hebrought the plant inside and set it down, before opening the letter addressedto him.

I’m sorry my dog toreup your roses, and I’m sorry I didn’t apologize in the moment. I should have.You were right to be angry. Bo feels really, really bad, and so do I. Just soyou know. I bought this at the Farmer’s Market and I thought you could maybeplant it and start fresh. If you don’t want to that’s fine. I understand yourroses were “one of a kind”. I hope you’ll keep this little guy alive, anyway,even if you don’t forgive us. – Rey & Bo (your apologetic neighbours)

Benwould be lying if he said the note didn’t make him smile a little bit. He setit fold-down atop his piano, and admired the little rose bush. Its leaves werea vibrant, lush green, and it was covered in buds. He flicked a leaf andwatched it tremble. He grinned. It would do just fine in his garden.

Hekept coming back to that little rose bush all day long. At work he’d catchhimself doodling, something he rarely did anymore, little sketches of roses inthe margins and bright, dimpled smiles. The plant was a sign of surrender;asking for a truce. Would he give in? Well, yes, he would. It hadn’t taken himlong to come to that conclusion. In all honesty, over the duration of the weekhis anger had faded. Once he had cleaned up his garden he noticed that thedamage wasn’t as extensive as he thought. He could forgive it, he supposed.

Buthow could he let her know it? It just didn’t feel right to him to go over toher house and offer her a plate of store-bought cookies, because lord knows hecouldn’t bake them himself. It felt fake, derivative, and cheesy. “Hey, it’sall water off a duck’s back! Here’s some Pillsbury crap on a plate!”

Itwas 3:36 in the afternoon when the idea struck him. The Grand Gesture. The wayhe was going to let Rey know all was forgiven. He had been inspired bysomething she had said the other day; her words floated back to him as though comingout of the ether of a dream. And suddenly he couldn’t wait to get home. Ofcourse, he’d have to make a couple stops along the way, pick up some suppliesand the like. He planned it out to the last detail, effectively wasting thelast hour and a half of work. And when it was finally time to leave, his deskchair had barely stopped spinning before he had left the building.

Heknew that starting at 5:00, he had only two hours before Rey would be home forthe night after she stopped at the gym (in the short time she had been livingnext door, he had quickly taken note of her daily activities). He could pullthis off in an hour and a half, if he was quick and had no interruptions. Hehauled everything over to Rey’s front lawn and set to work.

Thankfully,the universe was smiling upon him for once and everything went smoothly. He hadsuccessfully started a garden for Rey, in front of her large picture window inthe front yard. He had carefully transplanted a shoot of his own prize roses,right in the centre, with a colourful array of flora and grasses all around. Tohim it looked magnificent, but a nagging voice in the back of his head keptasking ‘Would she even notice it?’

When all was said and done, hiswatch told him it was 6:51. She would be home soon. He took this opportunity toplant his new rose bush in the spot where Bo had dug up the last one. He wasjust packing the dirt around the base of the plant when he heard her car pullup. He held his breath.

Her car door shut. He heard herunlatch the front gate and re-latch it behind her. Then came the soft shufflingsound of her shoes walking up the cobblestone pathway…and then all soundsstopped with a sudden, loud gasp.

Ben peeked precariously over thetop of the fence. She was standing halfway up the walk with her jaw slack, staringwide-eyed at the beautiful arrangement that had seemingly appeared in front of her house. She slowly walked up to it and bentdown to examine the flowers closer. Ben couldn’t see, but when she saw theroses, she grinned because she recognized them instantly.

At this point, Ben realized heprobably looked like a total jackass, crouched and watching her from across thefence. So he stood up, brushed the dirt from the worn-out knees of his jeans,and cleared his throat.

“You’re forgiven, in case itwasn’t clear,” he said. “Bo, too.”

She stood up straight and turnedto look at him, that one-of-a-kind smile glowing like the moon in the sky.

“You did this?” she askedquietly, her voice laden with emotion.

Ben nodded. “I didn’t know howelse to say it…and I remembered you telling me you wanted a garden like mine,so I figured I’d help get you started.”

“I love it,” she confessed. “It’sbeautiful, and it smells amazing.”

“Well, good. I’m glad.”

Rey sighed, shifting her weightto her left foot. She gave him an apologetic look.

“I guess we’ve been lousyneighbours, huh?” she asked.

“Uh, when the guy down thestreet has to tell us to shut the fuck up, I’m going to say yes, we have been,”Ben answered.

Rey chuckled. “Woops.”

“Woops.” Ben agreed with acrooked smile.

Rey smiled back at him somewhatbashfully, fiddling with the wire of her headphones.

“Would you like to come inside?”she asked quietly. “I think we could both use a drink, maybe. And…I’d like toget to know you better, if that’s okay.”

Ben’s eyes widened. He had beenexpecting a hearty thank-you, maybe some joyful tears, but not an invitationinside – into her life. Before hisbrain could even formulate an answer, he was nodding his head yes and hoppingover the fence.

“Careful,” Rey cautionedplayfully, “I just painted that.”

Ben smirked. “I know, it looksgood.”

“Thanks.”

As he climbed the steps of herporch for the second time in his life, he found himself in a very apologeticmood. Heat burned high in his face, turning the tips of his ears a deep pink.

“Oh, um…I also want to apologizefor, uh…well, the night of The Incident,I…I promise I wasn’t staring,” he mumbled, “at you.”

Rey smiled warmly, and Ben didn’tmiss the way her eyes jumped down his body and back up again in one quick,scanning motion.

“That’s okay,” she confessed asa sly grin spread across her face. “I just hope you don’t mind that I was.”

Ben didn’t know what to say tothat, so he just grinned like an idiot and followed her inside without a secondthought. She had freshly-baked cookies on her countertop and no Pillsburycontainer in sight.

#reylo #my fic #reylo prompt #reylo fanfic #kylo x rey #reylo au #BEN LOVES A PRIZE ROSE #REY IS A WHOLE PRIZE GARDEN 2 HIM #CHANGE MY MIND #if you liked it let me know!!

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unholyhelbig · 6 years

Note

Bechloe Prompt - Chloe always invites Beca to hang out over the weekend, in hopes to get closer to her, but Beca has always declined and always says she's busy but never what she is busy with. Deciding to follow Beca one weekend, Chloe never expected it to lead her to a literal grave. [Or where Beca visits her late mother every weekend to clean her mother's final resting place]

[A/N: I changed it a bit, IM SORRY]

—> SUBMIT PROMPTS HERE

The grass was dead. Its once green blades had faded to a sickly brown- a brown so dull that it reminded Chloe of eyes that had flickered of all curiousness. She could feel the cold, understand why the plots of land looked like a nuclear war site, but still, it made her stomach clench in worry.

She listened easily to the sound of rain beating against high hanging branches. The leaves weighted heavily with the thick coat of water. A few chilled drops hit Chloe on the back of her neck, the young redhead wiping away the liquid at first before caving to her resolve. Now a stain soaked into space where her cotton shirt met her fleece jacket.

This rain would be good, Chloe thought, for the plots that were headed by sharp stones long forgotten. Even with the rain, she could tell that the moss spreading along limestone was due to abandonment. They were cracked, with rust stains leaking onto incorrigible words.

She couldn’t’ tell how long the graveyard had been here- but judging by the old markers, and the even older wrought iron fence that surrounded the property- she knew it had to be four times her age.

Purple wisteria plants wound themselves up the sharpened iron spikes. The lavender flowers had dulled out, a few sparks of color moved against budded vines. They looked like they could house thorns; like they had been stripped of all color and belonged with the dead buried beneath sheets of dirt.

Chloe couldn’t help but lift her chin up to try and see past the light drizzle.

Beca couldn’t’ be here. There was no reason for the young woman to drive herself to an old graveyard in the early morning hours. She had pulled her black car as far into the parking lot that she could get it before stalking out into the rain.

The older of the two held off for a few moments, she found solace under a sweeping willow tree with low hanging moss that clouded her from the icy sheets that began to form against the very dead grass that Chloe couldn’t push from her mind.

Her feet were sinking into the muddy base of the tree, her full body weight leaning against the bark that had been formed in the same edge of time that a shovel first broke the ground in front of her.

She watched silently as Beca came into her view. She had reserves about following her out into the country like this. It felt too invasive like she was breaking something special between the two of them; but after the multiple times that Beca had quickly canceled her plans before burying her words into coffee, Chloe knew that something was being well secured.

The woman was dressed warmly. She had a grey sweatshirt on, covered by a black leather jacket. Beca wore fingerless gloves, even from here, Chloe could tell that her breath pushed into the wet air like a football player running drills.

She held flowers; big bursts of color that came in the form of earth-shattering oranges, and yellows so vibrant that the petals were drawn from the sun itself. The reds dripped in subtle despair, thorns drawing out their own drops of blood.

The brunette took a stilling breath before she knelt down in front of a grave; one far too old and crumbled to have sentimental meaning. Yet, Beca closed her eyes, depriving the world of the golden color that they radiated. She pulled a single flower, a zinnia, Chloe mused, from the bundle before placing it carefully against the base of the stone.

Chloe blinked dumbly before her eyes scanned the rest of the yard. She stepped closer to the hidden edge that she hugged- closer to the sheet of moss that kept her hidden in the clutches of the dead. She gasped, almost silently.

There was a brush of color against every headstone in view; hundreds of them. They were people forgotten, they were people that were written about in the history books and may be remembered in the town history. But no one came to visit them anymore, most family members buried a few feet away.

Beca had haphazardly left a flower at every single grave.

The redhead bit the inside of her lip to keep tears from drawing at her waterline. Don’t make such a big deal, Chloe. Beca would tell her. She would tell her to swallow it down, and that it was just an act of kindness no one would really appreciate but the dead.

“You followed me out here?”

She drew in a breath quick enough to cut her throat, deep cobalt eyes flicking up to meet honey ones. She hadn’t even heard Beca approach, not the crunch of the slowly freezing ground of the breath that hung so heavily in the air. “Jesus.”

“Sorry,” She flushed “I suppose I’m used to being the only one here.”

Chloe swallowed thickly before she reached forward and grasped the collar of Beca’s jacket. She pulled the girl into the shade, it was cooler under the foliage of the willow tree, but it was darker, the two of them standing close in a shared space.

“What are you doing out here?” She said, voice raspy. She kept her fingers around the collar of the sweatshirt. “You’re going to catch your death.”

Beca cracked a small smile, eyes flicking to Chloe’s lips “I don’t know, it seemed like the right thing to do.”

“You do this every weekend?” Chloe asked “You put flowers on every grave? Why?”

“If I don’t, who will?”

It was a simple way to answer a question with an equally as echoed one. Beca seemed mighty smug to Chloe. Chloe who wasn’t the slightest bit mad at the young brunette. Her hand still clenched the bouquet of flowers in frozen fingers. Her eyes were dull, and her nose was running, but Beca didn’t’ seem to notice.

“These people,” She swallowed roughly “They don’t have anyone to care about them anymore. They don’t have a legacy written in stone… and I just, I think that’s a sad existence. To be forgotten, you know?”

There was a beat of silence.

“No one deserves to be forgotten.”

Chloe knew all too well, letting her stare flick towards the headstones. No one seemed to mow the grass against the base of the stones, no one seemed to scrub the rust or trim the weeds. But Beca had thrown herself out here every single Saturday for god knows how long.

She moved her fingers against the side of Beca’s face, swallowing roughly as she traced her touch across Beca’s lips. Their breath mingled, Beca leaning into the warmth that Chloe offered with a simple gesture. A simple gesture that paled in comparison to laying flowers against graves.

The rain was wetly draped over her bone structure, eyes sharp as Beca inhaled carefully. She tilted her eyes to the side. She had a tender look in her eyes, one that pushed Chloe forward- that drove her into a pure madness. She needed to feel every inch of Beca’s skin. The emotion in her actions, in her kindness, pulling at her.

Chloe ghosted her lips of Beca’s. She felt the cold numbness of the rain, tasted the earthy essence that the girl presented as the two melded into one another. Beca lifted her hand, curling her arm around Chloe’s neck as she continued to clench the flowers in hand.

The world seemed to cease existence the moment their lips touched, Chloe letting tears flow unchecked against her cheeks. The two couldn’t’ tell, couldn’t fold away from each other as emotion seeped into an empty graveyard, where nothing mattered, but a bouquet of flowers, and a pension for kindness.

#Beca Mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe #bechloe fic rec #fanfiction #request #angst #pitch perfect

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