#this egg laid a hen @ my farm

[elliewluvr]

my dearest love | ellie williams

pairings: farm!ellie x f!reader

summary: you and ellie have been together for around two years, the two of you in love and living on a farm house together where you both decided to reside due to how dangerous it is in the city.

content warning: 18+ SMUT MDNI, farmhouse, lovers, slight angst, reassurance, gentle, reader receiving, oral, fingering, & praising

dont purchase tlou2! support palestine 🇵🇸

—— <3

the day started off the same as always, you waking up to change the baby and straighten up the bedroom you all shared, the floorboards creaking quietly as you tiptoed around the house.

the sound of the birds chirping and the grass swaying through the wind hitting your ears each time you passed the windows that were open in substitute to air conditioning. you laid your baby down in their crib who remained sleeping despite the changing of their diaper.

you smiled, looking down the chunky little baby whose tiny lips were slightly parted from sleeping so well. one of your hands gliding over the tiny human’s face.

after an swift while of analyzing the creation you made, you tucked your baby underneath the blanket to begin picking up any clothes you found from the day before.

your hands tossing them into the clothing bin to be washed and strung outside to dry later. after that, you headed downstairs as subtle as you could to start making breakfast.

humming to yourself while you cracked and scrambled four eggs that were freshly taken from the chickens hen the night before. you thought to yourself for a moment, mind completely blurred. 

you shivered as you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, goosebumps coating your skin while you were immediately knocked from out your thoughts, a gentle peck being placed on the left side of your neck.

“goodmorning, howd you sleep?” you heard your lover say, her voice slightly raspy while she gently rubbed her fingertips over your hips. you let you head fall back onto her shoulder, the feeling making you sigh in relief.

“i slept well, thanks to you.. i missed you so much.” you said before turning around to face her, wrapping your arms around her neck while smiling happily at the sight of her, her shoulder length hair a bit messy as her pale green eyes glistened in the sunlight that peeked throughout the kitchen ever so beautifully.

despite ellie being home now, she wasnt a few weeks ago. tommy heading over to update her on the new information he found on abby. as much as you hated the thought of her leaving, you allowed it. tears were shed everyday before she returned.

the thought of leaving to find her crossed your mind far too many times but you listened to her, trusting that she’d be back soon enough and the one day you packed up your bookbag and grabbed your weapons with your baby strapped to your chest, there she was at the front door.

ellie was in shock, not expecting you to be so eager and impatient to find her. that alone making her happy but also a bit sad as she wouldn’t even know what to do if you and you guy’s baby gotten hurt or into some deep shit.

you ran a hand over her auburn hair before tilting your head at her, “no need to miss me, im here now. i dont plan on leaving any longer.” she said, her eyes traveling from your irises to your lips a few times.

“im glad, ‘cant be without you.” you said in response, leaning forward to place a soft but long peck onto her lips. ellie let out a hum into the kiss, her hands gliding over your lower back and waist gently.

you furrowed your eyebrows in awe, pulling her closer to you as the kiss progressively grew more and more passionate. your feet stumbling back as you were met with the counter that was conventionally behind you.

you gasped, feeling the cool wood graze your hips while ellies hands massaged and groped your soft and smooth skin, her breathing hitching a bit the more she leaned into you.

ellie pulled away to make her way to your neck, your head falling back once again while you felt yourself tremble from the feeling of her soft lips immediately and directly hitting your sweet spot, “f.. fuck, ellie.. dont.” you mumbled softly.

you whined, feeling her place an knee between your thighs that were trembling. she always knew what to do to get you pooling your panties with your wetness.

“its been so long.. please.” she said softly against your skin before pulling away to look at you with now pink cheeks and lips, her tatted hand lifting to glide down your clothed chest.

“i know.. i want you but im nervous.” you said, letting a breath pass between your lips from the feeling of her gentle fingers passing over your body.

“dont be, i know your body better than ever and ill take my time. i know we haven’t did it since you gave birth but i promise ill treat your body right.” she responded, giving you complete eye contact.

you felt yourself relax, nodding at her words, “then take me.” you said, your breath grazing her lips as she leaned in closely to kiss you once again, enthusiastically deepening it while grabbing your waist.

ellie and you stumbled your way to the living room, her hands landing on the walls and doorframes to keep the two of you steady before collapsing onto the couch, the auburn haired girl landing on top and between your legs.

you felt your body heating up more and more as both of your lips danced around eachother, getting a bit sloppy from the eagerness before feeling ellie pull away to look at you, her eyes low and full of lust.

“take this off..” she mumbled a bit above an whisper, grabbing the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head, exposing your bare stomach and breasts that immediately caught her eyes.

she let her eyes pass over your body, every curve catching her attention as she slipped the hairtie holder off of her wrist and lifted her arms to pull half of her hair back into an messy ponytail.

you whined a little, gasping as you felt her fingers immediately play with your nipples, rolling the nubs between her thumb and pointer fingers while she watched your reaction closely, her lips stretching into a smirk.

“does that feel good baby?” she asked, earning a whimper from you, “yes.. please.” you begged, growing desperate and needy for her long slender fingers in your soaked cunt.

“no need to worry, you have me. im just getting you there.” she said, laying a soft kiss on your lips as she reassured you before leaning down to take one of your nipples into her mouth.

“fuck.” you let out, resting the back of your hand over your mouth to keep you from being loud through the quiet house while ellie’s tongue gently rubbed your nipple, sucking it as she pulled away to do the same to the other.

your back arched up from the couch cushions that were under you, the feeling of ellie landing teasing pecks down your stomach made your pussy ache in your panties, “please..”.

she grabbed your waistband and leaned up to yank your shorts and panties off, instantly moaning from the sight of your glistening pussy. “so wet for me.” she mumbled, using one of her hands to rub two fingers between your slit, gaining a whine that passed from your throat quietly.

her large hands readjusted you on the couch, pushing you further up to the armrest where she leaned down between your legs to place soft kisses on your inner thighs as she tucked her slightly muscular arms under your legs to get a better grip on you.

“no more teasing.. i cant take it anymore.” you said softly, gasping as she glided her tongue from your thigh to your pussy, her tongue flattening between your slit to land a long lick from your entrance to your clit.

your eyes shut subconsciously, hearing her hum a bit while flicking her tongue over your desperate clit before sucking the sensitive bud which made you immediately lay a hand over her head to push her deeper between your legs.

this did nothing but encourage ellie, her eyes slowly drifting close from how good you tasted as she pulled away from your pussy with a pop noise, holding your thighs down to flick and rub her tongue back and forth over your clit.

you furrowed your eyebrows, your breathing getting more intense while you sat up to watch her in awe. your eyes growing glossy from how good it felt, thighs already trembling. “oh fuck! ellie!” you moaned out, hips pushing up into her mouth.

ellie hummed in response, lapping her tongue over your clit before swirling the muscle over your cunt sloppily; a long moan dragging from your mouth while your fingers tugged at her ponytail. “you taste so good, baby.” she spoke muffled, face still deep in your pussy.

“dont stop, please! ‘feels too good!” you moaned loudly, throwing your head back once you felt her suck and swirl her tongue over your clit at an quick pace, eyes rolling back in complete awe.

you jerked forward, eyes shutting tightly while your toes began to curl, moans falling from your mouth loudly as you felt yourself grow more hot and flushed than before.

ellie pulled away for a split second to spit her saliva and your juices onto her fingers before pushing them deep into your pussy as she began flicking the tip of her tongue onto the bud of your pussy, fingers curling up into your spot that she always seemed to find.

she took her time, pushing her fingers into you before pulling them halfway out to yank at your spongy sweet spot, your juices soaking her chin while she watched you closely.

you on the other were a mess, body shaking and twitching as you felt your body begin to tremble while your pussy spasmed over her fingers, “i.. if you do that.. mm! ‘gonna make me cum!” you moaned, attempting to push her head away.

her fingers sped up as she watched you through heavy lids, attaching her lips around your bits to start sucking and tugging at your sensitive clit while your body started to tense and the feeling between your thighs grew more intense.

ellie leaned up, continuing to push her fingers in and out of you before rubbing your clit quickly with her free hand, nodding her head slowly in response to you. a smug look forming on her face while she watched your expressions change and alter from every move she made.

“cum for me, let it all out baby. be a good girl and cum for me.” she said, landing a few spanks on your clit as she sped up her fingers and applied a bit more pressure to your clit.

“im gonna cum!..” you let out while your eyes rolled back and your head fell against the arm rest on the couch while your mouth dropped open, juices beginning to flow down your thighs as you started to come undone all over her fingers.

ellie laughed as she twisted her fingers in circles inside of you while she helped fuck you through your orgasm, slapping your clit a few more times. “good girl, you did so well.” she said, slowly pulling her digits out of you to lean up and kiss you sloppily.

you whimpered, panting a bit against her lips. your heart was pounding, body still trembling and pussy now aching from how intense your orgasm was.

a whine passing through your lips and into the kiss from the familiar taste of your pussy hitting your tongue, arms and legs wrapping around ellie to hold her closely.

after an few minutes of kisses and i love you’s both of you pulled away from the sound of your 3 month old crying from upstairs, immediately making ellie lift up off the couch.

“get dressed, ill go get him and dont worry about breakfast. ill cook for us.” ellie said, smiling happily at you before heading upstairs while you began to slip your shorts and shirt back on, smiling as you thought about everything.

“dammit ellie, what am i gonna do with you..”

link 2 my masterlist!

[changenbirthenstein]

First Clutch

(TF WARNING: Girl into Chicken)

An arm wrapped around my throat, holding me tight.

I struggled, one arm pinned between us, the other pulling at the elbow restraining me. I grunted, able to breathe, but was unable to move. A hand caressed my midsection, sending a warm feeling coursing through my belly as I whimpered in distress. “Good… good, now, push for me dear… puuush…”

I opened my mouth to tell the rough-voiced stranger to go screw themselves, but what came out what a low moan as I bore down, feeling something pressing inside, a terrible pressure making itself known. I could feel something leaking from between my legs, soaking my panties and shorts as my thighs quivered with effort. I could feel my midriff aching, squeezing, as I felt some object starting to force its way into my birth canal.

“W-what… oh god… something-“ “Shhhh…” my captor hushed me, still holding me tight. “It’s all natural, don’t worry. Just push, push it out, you can do it…” I couldn’t deny they words, it was like a terrible compulsion. I sobbed, feeling by feminine tunnel twitching and pulsing, forcing whatever was moving out closer to my entrance.

“That’s right… that’s right, you’re doing so good, you’re such a good girl…” I felt so patronized, I wanted to break this bastard’s face, but the warm feeling inside was spreading, and the need to push hadn’t diminished. If anything, it was stronger now. I could feel my gender starting to throb, bulging outward with whatever had suddenly formed inside me.

I was panting, trying to regain energy as another cramp gripped me, the heat continuing to spread, reaching down to my feet, up to my hands, rushing through my face. “What are you dooohhh it’s c-cominggg…” I was confused, scared, feeling something crowning, my lips burning as I birthed whatever inhuman thing had appeared inside.

My feet began to get sore, as did my hands. “There we go… good girl, you’re so amazing, just keep pushing, keep letting it out… you’re such a good mommy, don’t fight it…” I shook my head, even as I listened and kept bearing down, feeling whatever was inching forward slip out, settling in my damp underwear, a second something already forcing its way into my birth canal.

“My goodness, you’re so amazing! You just laid your first egg… I’m so proud, you’re going to be so good on my farm… come on, keep pushing, let it happen, let yourself become a good mommy…” I wanted to punch him, wanted to escape, wanted to run, but those words held me, as did the intensity of my labor. I couldn’t be laying eggs, that was impossible. But… I also couldn’t deny the feeling of the smooth, slimy, hard object pressing against my skin, trapped in my clothing.

My captor pushed against me, making me to move as my feet tingled painfully, forcing a whimper from my lips. “I know, it’s ok hon… It can hurt, becoming a hen. But you won’t need to worry about anything else ever again beside laying lots of eggs for me, so trust me, this is much easier. Here, let me help you see…” I was slick with sweat, trembling with pain and exhaustion, and my attacker leaned me against the wall.

I wanted to flee right then. I wasn’t being held anymore, but… my legs wouldn’t work. I couldn’t move them, couldn’t swing my arms. It took all my focus not to fall flat on my face. Instead, I just watched as my mysterious captor tugged at one of my shoes, then removed the sock. The other shoe was removed as well, though this time the rainbow ankle sock remained.

“It’s always a treat to watch a new hen burst out of her clothes… but look, see… your body is already accepting it… you’re going to make such a pretty bird…” fingers stroked the skin of my foot, pressing here and there as horrid sensation coursed along the nerves. I sagged, bracing my arms against the wall and pacing my head between them, able to look down and see my body, as well as the stranger, massaging my bare foot.

I pushed once more, the next egg already nudging my cervix, the second starting to make my slit bulge, lips tingling as they rubbed against my panties and slid over my freshly delivered firstborn. At the same time, my toes began to cramp, forcing a pained gasp from me as I watched them begin to change.

My nails darkened, pressing out and becoming bird-like talons. The sensation was awful as the muscles cramped badly, forcing my toes to press firmly against one another. A burning sensation forced an agonized cry from my lips as the strangers fingers caressed the twisting, changing flesh oh-so gently, urging it on as my toes joined together into three small protrusions.

I bore down again, my labor slowed not at all, my second egg starting to crown between my aching, quivering lips as my ankle throbbed in potent agony, a fourth chicken-toe bursting from the flesh, a brief spurt of blood from my torn flesh quickly stymied as my body continued to betray me, eagerly adopting the inhuman form, already healing into this new shape.

I could see the fabric of my sock bulging and shifting as intense cramps and that same burning heat of my flesh fusing and muscles twisting began to consume my other foot. “That’s right, gods you’re so beautiful… just let it come out, let it take you over completely, don’t fight it my pretty chicken…” I tried to resist, tried to keep my foot in a human shape, remembering how it should bend, how it should look, the shape of my toes and the feeling of a floor under my-

The egg was coming, and another terrible cramp raced through my midriff, forcing a pained cry from my mouth as I pushed, feeling the second foreign, inhuman object to slip from my aching, tingling sex into my underwear, shattering my concentration. And as I pushed, as I did what felt so wrong yet increasingly natural, a tearing sound came from under me. Three yellow, scaled chicken toes exploded out of the front of my sock, a fourth tearing out along with another splash of crimson as the fourth ripped from my ankle.

I sobbed, looking down at my disgusting chicken feet, feeling scales continue to push out of my skin painfully, slowly, my legs shifting shape, thinning as they became more avian. “Good. Utterly perfect. Now, just keep going. You know what you are, what you were always meant to be. Really, what were you going to do as a human anyway?” My thoughts drifted to my fiancé who had just proposed, my degree that I was so close to getting, all the hopes and dreams that I had for the future…

I could almost feel that future being ripped away with the next contraction, my slit once more bulging with avian life, by whole body dripping sweat as this foreign force assaulted me, bending the very essence of my body to its insidious will. My hands began to burn and ache much as my feet had and I lifted my head to see my fingers twitching closer together, my nails shrinking into nothing as agonizing cramps made my digits begin to meld before my eyes. “Nooo, not my hands…” I pleaded without thinking, horrified to see the thing that is so imperative to my life as a human being taken from me.

As I bore down once more, my dripping slit burning as another egg crowned, eager to meet its siblings, my fingers lost all definition, becoming pointed, clumsy, useless lumps as my bones dissolved. I sobbed in horror, realizing what the changes meant. I was starting to get chicken wings. Worthless even for what I was becoming, never flying, the least impressive species of all of the avian family, meant only to lay eggs and be eaten, nothing more. My dreams of getting married and becoming a doctor ruined in one impossible assault, reduced to spending the rest of my existence clucking obnoxiously and scratching for worms in the dirt.

“Yes, your hands…” my assailant practically purred, his hands running over my arms as I felt pressure build just beneath my skin, pressing against my flesh, looking to escape. “No more holding hands with that dreadful boy, no more hugging your parents, no more taking notes or fiddling with pens or playing games. Just flapping pointlessly as you lay clutch after clutch for me.

“Speaking thereof… push for me, sweetie. Every time you push it lets more of my magic flow into you, takes more of you over. Push your human body away, right into your panties with the rest of your eggs, embrace your future…”

I couldn’t resist. My natural biology worked against me, my human mind recognizing this as labor, telling me I needed to have my baby right now. Yet, as I cried out, bearing down and being rewarded with my third egg gushing from my feminine opening, the next already sitting just behind my throbbing lips, I could tell his words were true. Every time I let myself engage in something so inhuman, so beastly, it wormed into the cracks, convincing me that if I’m laying eggs like a common hen, I must BE a hen. That all this is just helping me be what I’m supposed to be.

Tears ran down my face as little pins pierced my skin up and down my misshapen arms. The bases of feathers, brown blossoming from the tops as though some sort of strange flower, unfurling and fluffing until they coated my wings entirely. I could feel the same thing happening to my upper thighs, my legs having succumbed entirely to the corrupting enchantment.

Two new horrible sensations assailed me. First, an intense pressure just above my butt. Something pushing forward as I bore down once more, crying out as I crowned yet again, and something started to bulge out into the back of my panties. My new tail began to press out from the base of my spine, stiff feathers beginning to sprout from the bump.

Meanwhile, an unspeakable feeling pounded through me, at last driving me to my scaled knees, my arms naturally folding against my sides as my bones crunched loudly, rapidly breaking and reforming so they bent like proper wings. My anus was being pulled forward, while my swollen gender started to throb, inching back, being pulled as well.

The pain was unspeakable, and I threw my head back, screaming as my attacker moaned in pure, unrestrained pleasure. “Yes, yes good girl, good little hen, I know that sound… It’s your poor little cunny, isn’t it? You feel it moving, merging… you’re starting to develop your new organ… thank the gods this is so amazing…”

I could feel it. My rectum was shifting, pressing against my egg-filled birth canal. And, with an all-too-familiar pressure and burning, the two began to merge together. “No no no I can’t it’s so disgusting so filthy no NO NO PLEEEASEEE!!!” At the same time, my labia was contracting painfully, and my clit… the intensely sensitive nub was twitching violently, I could almost feel it withdrawing into my body, nerves screaming as they began to dissolve. But as my shorts bulged with my growing tail, my hidden privates continued fusing into a single, all-purpose opening.

I was left sobbing, my newly formed avian cloacha throbbing and burning as yet another egg emerged, my organs shrinking and swelling as they changed to fit new purposes, my entire body spasming as the last few nerves of my delicate bead shrank away into nothing, leaving only the tight, intense feeling of birth behind. I felt so humiliated, so gross. Violated right down to the most basic parts of my physical form, even my sexuality being twisted and warped into something not even remotely human. And still, the need to push, the need to bring life into the world, undeniable and relentless. Another egg tumbled into my panties, an exclamation mark on my humiliation and fear.

My hips groaned and cracked as they widened, my legs withdrawing into me, shrinking as so much of the rest of me shrank. My chest seemed to be extra-eager, my breasts diminishing faster than the rest of me, disappearing entirely as more feathers grew over my torso. I could feel something swelling on my head and throat, making my gag and tremble. My comb and wattle. Red, fleshy sacks, dangling limply, bizarre growths that I shook my head, trying to deny and only causing them to wobble and slap against me.

My teeth lit up next, dissolving into each other, becoming a solid mass that slowly began to grow. I tried to keep my mouth closed as the pressure behind my lips mounted, something inching forward, wanting to emerge even as the need to lay my next egg made itself known.

“I’ve seen that before, dearie…” my assailant gasped eagerly. “It’s coming, whether you want it or not. You can’t stop it. It’s going to grow and grow. You’re so pretty, but once this changes you’ll look just like every other hen… Let it out, my lovely farm animal. Open your mouth wide and scream as it grows, scream your beak out…”

I tried to resist, even as I pushed. But the longer I fought, the more unbearable the pain became. Pushing forward as I forced my lips closed, tears running down my face as my nose began to twitch, eager to shrink into nothing. I couldn’t. I had to fight, couldn’t let the last change take me…

But my own body fought me. Deep down, it was convinced I wasn’t human, and the magic had gained an impossible foothold, manipulating everything like horrific clay, a horror I couldn’t escape from, that I would spend the rest of my life living. It hurt so much. Too much.

I opened my mouth wide, screaming, until I began to gag. My teeth had become hard, yellow, starting to bulge forward from my mouth even as they grew back, deep into my head. Becoming my entire mouth as my tongue became small and pointed. My jaws hurt as I shrieked at the top of my lungs, my face pressing forward, skull crunching as my eyes shifted to either side of my head, my nostrils slipping down as my lips boiled and merged with my growing former teeth. I started choking and gagging as my vocal chords shifted, the scream becoming rougher, higher pitched.

My former mouth was almost completely taken over by the hard growth as I felt the need to cluck building deep in my lungs. My head darted forward as I resisted, only for the need to grow, as potent and undeniable and natural as the relentless stream of eggs emerging from my womb. Without thinking, a quiet “Pock Pock Baw-Buk” sound began to come from me. Clucking with my new, fully formed beak.

The last of the changes started to settle in, as my clothes settled in a pile that no longer even came close to fitting. I rustled my wings, scratched instinctually with my chicken feet. I couldn’t see myself, didn’t WANT to see myself. But my attacker drifted in front of me, closely looking into my eyes. I braced myself for the inevitable. The stories always ended the same way. The change finishes ravaging your body, then the sorcerer wipes your mind to keep you docile. Like a murder but with no body to hide, just a pet to take home.

“Ah, delightful…” came the mirth-filled coo of the horrible man. “Just like the others. I’ll tell you a secret, dear. The change is completely finished. You look precisely like a hen in every way, except your eyes. If you look closely, they’re the same color they were before, albeit barely noticeable. Someone would have to look VERY closely to see that spark of intelligence, that bit of understanding.

“But that’s how I like my animals. I want you to spend the rest of your life KNOWING you’re my hen. Maybe you’ll try to escape. I hope so. I can’t tell you how amazing it is when one of my girls gets loose, goes back home, and her family is bewildered why a cow knocked on their door and is agitatedly mooing at them. They always get alarmed when they start crying. Most animals can’t do that, after all.”

I could feel the telltale burning at the back of my eyes. “Yes, there we go… this really was worth the bargin… Now, come on, dear. No point trying to get away. I’ll take you to your new home…” His arms opened.

I thought. It was easy, easy as it had always been. I could remember everything, process everything just like before. The only difference was that there was nothing meaningful I could do with the information.

I couldn’t escape. Even if I got away from this man, I couldn’t run away from my own body. Slowly, eyes locked on the ground, I walked forward, shuddering as the man who cursed me swept me up against his chest and walked from the building.

Hours later, I was deposited into a coop with several other hens. It was unnaturally silent, and as I walked toward my new home, I met the gaze of every one of my new roommates, only to notice the thin ring of color around the beady black avian pupil, the sadness and defeat in their gaze. I fluffed my wings in impotent frustration and defeat. I knew, deep down, that it would only be a matter of time before another girl came in here just like me. Just as helpless and trapped, to spend the rest of her life laying eggs for this monster.

[asmallpinkfan3]

Helooo again let's do a southern farmer reader x the adults (toh)

Can't get it out of my head since I saw a summer dress in target

-peachy anon

Oooooo I’m actually from the south! :D

Farmer y/n

Eda

Most of the time she wakes up to you already outside.

Dirt all over your boots and the morning sun glaring on you.

You sell the food you grow but keep a small portion just for the owl house.

She could be on her scroll and all of a sudden she has you kissing her head and telling her your about to go into to town to sell crops.

“Alright darlin I gotta go sell the crops”. You say pulling out your palesmen.

She loves your accent so much.

You cook the best shit ever known to man, like most of the time the whole house wants you to cook.

Lilith

“Y/n this is amazing”! She says as you just brought her some food you made.

“Yeaaaa it’s so good”! Hooty yells rubbing his body against your arm.

“M glad you like it”! A proud look on your face as you pet hootys head.

Her and Hooty absolutely love watching you farm it makes them happy.

“Y/n is so cool”! Hooty yells rolling around in Liliths arms.

“It’s true they do have the best food growing techniques in the area”.

Hooty begs lilith to let you cook dinner and she always says yes cause she loves you cooking.

Raine

Oh my Titan they love you.

“Raine darlin would you like some potato’s”? You ask while making dinner.

“Sure hun”. They say getting changed from the bathroom.

You grab the best potatoes known to man and cook them just for them.

After it’s done you go outside to check up on some animals that you have.

They are eating dinner and you come back in with some eggs that you got from the chickens.

“Ol hen laid some eggs”. You say putting the eggs in a small bowl of water to wash the gunk off.

Washing your hands you sat down to join them.

Darius

“Y/n love there’s dirt everywhere”.

He says as your picking up a basket of eggs, corn, and potatoes.

“Well Darius I am a farmer after all”. You say pulling the basket into the kitchen.

He watches you wash everything and you just go outside to put the basket back, feed the animals, and water the crops.

“I’m making dinner”. You say grabbing ingredients out the fridge and the pantry.

And he’s jus Ike “yes ma’am/sir”.

[gazs-blue-hat]

Sunflowers and Shotguns pt.4 (Small Town UA) Soap X Reader (Lamb)

An: Here we are with Lamb and Soap! This time with some angst and whumpy times.

Word Count: 2,236

Summary: Soap usually sleeps pretty well but when he struggled to fall asleep and hears cobbing in the middle of the night, he can't help but go investigate.

Tw: Mentions of nightmares, phantom limb pain,, vivid descriptions of injuries to a leg, unintentional self harm (Lip biting), (LMK if I missed anything)

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO ANYBODY HERE OR ON ANOTHER SITE TO REPOST, COPY, TRANSLATE OR FEED MY WORK TO AN A.I OF ANY KIND.

The air was getting colder as autumn faded and went. The ground was covered by frost in the morning and the trees were dropping their leaves left and right.

Due to the coming winter, you had been busy preparing her farm for the cold months ahead. The crops had been harvested and were being preserved, the animals had been fed a little bit more to get them a little insulation from the cold, and Ghost had added actual insulation to the various pens for the animals.

Since you had been working extra hard, Johnny couldn't help but notice you limped a bit more when you walked. You never removed her prosthesis around them, but he could tell it bothered you.

Price had said he saw the stump briefly for a moment when Tens had been over to do something with Lamb. He didn't mention much about it other than it looked painful. Your amputation had been done right below your knee so it 'wasn't as bad as Alex Keller's' he had said.

Johnny was incredibly curious but he knew better than to ask what happened. He wanted you to be comfortable with them in your house, and talking about a deeply traumatizing event was probably not a good way to do that.

You had warmed up to them in the weeks they had been there. September had come and gone, leaving the frigidity of October to swipe away the summer heat. You weren't silent around them anymore, only speaking when needed. You talked with them and shared little bits about your life. You explained where you had grown up and what your family life had been like.

Johnny would even dare say you two were 'friends' now. You spoke to him more often, sat next to him at meals, and asked him to do things with you instead of for you.

He still slept in the recliner in the main room, finding it incredibly comfortable. You had brought out blankets for himself and Gaz (Who was sleeping on the couch), and he didn't fail to notice that he got the fluffier ones. (Kyle didn't mind)

His nights were usually uneventful, being too tired from the day to really dream of anything. The work you had them doing kept them physically fit and was enough to tire them out.

This night wasn't so uneventful.

He found himself tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable in the large leather recliner. He had done less work today than normal and found his mind racing because of it. Instead of running down dark paths like usual, his mind was filled with thoughts of you.

He thought about how your smile was so genuine and excited about things. When one of your hens had laid an egg that was cracked, you had taken it into the house and put it in an incubator 'just to see what happened'. He watched as you looked down at the small egg, examining the small beating heart and blood vessels. You two had sat at the counter for hours, watching the little chick move and stretch. When the chick had passed away, he rubbed your back as you softly held the creature in your hands, whispering how proud of it you were. Proud that it had tried and had lived as long as it had.

He loved how kind you were to everything you saw and interacted with. You never pushed boundaries and respected each of them. You had gone through the effort of getting them the things they needed (Sometimes getting the items before they even asked).

Frustrated with himself, Johnny groaned and sat up, lowering the legs of the recliner. He decided that washing his face might help relax him so he silently walked towards the bathroom down the hall. Once he arrived at the bathroom and went to open the door, he heard muffled sobs.

He wouldn't say the person was crying, it was deeper than that. These were heaving sobs he had only heard coming from dying men on the battlefield. He looked towards your bedroom door, the source of the sound.

He knew his team's cries by heart. They all had nightmares, it came with the job. He had never heard cries like these coming from you. he knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help himself from trying to open your door. It was locked, as usual, but a locked door never stopped Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish from entering a room. He quickly made his way to his back, removing a set of lock picks. Making his way back to your door, it was a simple enough job to pick the four tumbler lock.

The door opened without a sound and he looked into your bedroom for the first time. The walls were a dark color and little twinkling lights hung on the ceiling. A welcoming and warm atmosphere filled this room, not unlike the lavender diffuser that sat on the nightstand next to your bed.

Your bed was large, a king-sized one probably. Nikon was laying on one side of the bed, his head in your lap. You were sitting up amongst a plethora of blankets and pillows, sobbing.

Johnny was able to see your prosthesis that had been propped up by your nightstand. It made sense that you wouldn't wear it to bed. Nikon sat his head up and whined loudly, getting up and walking over to Johnny. Your head was pressed down into your chest, your shoulders shaking with heaving sobs.

Nikon gently went behind Johnny and pushed him into the room. The dog then closed the door by pushing his nose against it. Your door swung inwards, easier to barricade and defend.

Johnny looked down at the dog with a raised eyebrow. Nikon made a soft boof' sound and jumped back on the bed, sitting his head against your good leg. Johnny slowly approached the bed, noticing how your head shifted to hear to him better.

"Um, hey there lass," he whispered. Your sobs halted and you looked up at him. Your usually bright (e/c) eyes were red and puffy. You swallowed and looked up at him. He could see your lips were bleeding from where you had bitten them to keep quiet.

"MacTavish..." you mumbled, looking at the closed door. He held up the lockpicks and shrugged. You said nothing, only letting out a cry of pain as you leaned your head back and took a deep shuttering breath.

"Nightmares?" Johnny asked as he sat on the side of the bed. You shook your head, hands clenched into fists on the sheets.

"Not this time." You mutter, exhaling the breath you had been holding. Johnny nodded and looked down at his hands. He didn't know what to do. Nikon nudged Johnny's hand with a wet nose. Johnny looked down and then understood.

Your leg

It was your leg that was hurting. The change in the weather and temperature was causing you pain. Price had said Alex suffered similar pains when things changed. Lucky for him, he lived in a place where the weather was pretty consistent. You had no such luck.

Before he could say anything else, you cried out again, hand clutching above the amputation site.

"It hurts. It hurts so fucking much." You sob. Your hands were shaking as you squeezed the aggravated skin. It was covered by a blanket so he couldn't see the damage.

"It hurts and it's not even there." You continue. Hot tears stream down your face and make little marks on the soft sheets. Johnny nods and shifts so he's sitting next to you on the bed. Both of his legs stretch out in front of him and he reaches an arm over your shoulders. He pulls you in close, allowing you to rest your head over his heart.

You stopped trying to hide your cries now. You hid your face in his chest and wailed. His chest absorbed most of the sound as you clawed at his shirt. He said nothing, only holding you close. His hand went around your back and up into your hair, scratching at your scalp and massaging it a bit. He was hoping that some other sensory input would make your mind remember that the leg wasn't there.

"There ya go, lass. Be as loud as you need. I'm not goin' anywhere." he said softly, his accent thicker with worry. You continued to cry into him, wetting his navy blue shirt with your tears.

"What can I do to help? Anything at all." He asks. You nod and point at your nightstand where a container of oil sat. Johnny recognized this as numbing cream. Tens must have given it to you.

"Alright, I can do that." He whispered. He didn't have to move to reach it, his arm long enough to grasp the opaque jar and bring it over. You looked up at him now, an expression of fear in your eyes.

"I understand lass. I want to help. I don't care what it looks like alright?" He reassured. You nodded, shifting the blankets and sheets over to reveal your legs.

In contrast to the jeans you usually wore, you were wearing shorts to sleep. They were simple and loose-fitting, enough to be comfortable but warm at the same time. Your left leg extended down to your toes which were painted a delicate blue. It reminded him of a forget-me-not flower. Your thighs and calf were coated in various cuts and scrapes from farm work. A large bruise was blooming from where a goat had gotten a little too rough with you.

Your right leg was a different story. Your right leg which had been amputated looked like a disaster. The skin was pockmarked and pulled tight. Scars from skin grafts and various injuries littered the skin. So much so that there was hardly any skin that was left unblemished. The site of amputation itself was the worst of all. The skin was red and irritated, burn scars and divots littered the space and small blisters from friction dotted the surface. You had been working too hard.

"Seamin' Jesus lass. I'm so sorry," he mumbled. He took in the extent of the damage, trying to imagine what could have caused such an injury. He didn't know what you had specialized in on your task force. Tens was clearly the medic and chosen sniper. Keys was the analyst and infiltration expert. Skip was your Captain. What you had done was a mystery to him still.

He opened the jar and reached his fingers into the cream. it was freezing against his fingertips and his fingers quickly went numb wherever the cream touched. This stuff was potent. He rubbed his hands together, ignoring the tingling he felt and he looked up at you, who had removed your face from his chest and was leaning against his shoulder.

"I'm gonna start now okay? You let me know if I'm doin' something ya don't like." He said calmly. You nodded, fisting the sheets in your grip. He exhaled slowly and placed his hands on your skin. You instantly relaxed and almost melted into his touch. Johnny felt how your skin was pulled taught and the muscles were tense.

Instead of massaging a leg, he felt like he was touching a corded rope. Your muscles had been rearranged and molded to fit this new way of living you had to do. The surgery must have taken a long time. He started out gently, making sure to cover everything with the cream before actually massaging it.

Once he was satisfied with the numbing job he had done, he started to apply gentle pressure to the skin. You winced a bit at first but then a low groan rumbled in your chest as you leaned your head back. Johnny could see your eyes fluttering as they rolled back in pure bliss.

"There ya are...relax," he mumbled as he continued. You did as he asked, going completely limp in his hands. Your wounded skin wasn't soft like he had expected it to be. The skin was rough and irritated, even chapped in some places. He continued to massage the skin, going deeper and deeper into the muscles as he worked. He couldn't feel his hands anymore but he didn't really care. The expression on your face was more than worth it.

After about fifteen minutes of treatment, you had fallen asleep. Nikon had gone to his bed in the corner, satisfied that you were alright. Johnny smiled as he felt you slump against him, soft snores escaping your mouth. He wiped his hands on his pants and moved so you were laying down. He pulled the covers back up and watched as you slept peacefully. He bent down and pressed a kiss on your forehead. As he turned to leave, your hand gripped his wrist.

'Don't leave. Please." You begged. Johnny nodded and pulled back the covers, sliding into the bed next to you. You shifted so your head rested over his heart, listening to the beating within. Johnny felt completely relaxed and just before his eyes fluttered shut he heard you speak.

"Thank you, Johnny." You whispered. You called him Johnny. Not Soap, or MacTavish. You called him Johnny.

"Any time bonnie, any time at all," he whispered back, wrapping his arm over your shoulders to press you close.

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

Taglist: @plumteaa-remus @ghostlythots

(Lmk if you want to be added)

[ahedderick]

Egg

   For anyone who is interested, particularly @woodelf68, here is a farm egg to store egg comparison.

Shell color, whether brown, white, (or blue!) is due to what breed of chicken you have, and does not depend on the chicken’s health or well-being. People often feel like brown eggs are ‘healthier’ in some way, but if I had a Leghorn who laid white eggs, they’d be just as good on the inside as the brown egg from my Brahma hen. In the picture, the store egg is on the right and mine is on the left.

Here’s where you start to see the difference; the farm egg has an orange yolk and the store egg’s is yellow. The white is also a little firmer in a farm egg. My hens get regular chicken feed, which is soybean based, but also corn, table scraps, and any greens or bugs they can hunt up for themselves.

Not a huge taste difference, really, but you can tell which is which.

[new-austin]

I did some farm sitting for a lady and she got back from her cruise today and (calmly) accused me of

Not feeding her animals

Stealing her goat feed (I don't own goats)

Intentionally leaving the eggs out in the coop causing 5 eggs to freeze (they were laid in the night and it was 12 degrees last night no shit they froze)

Intentionally leaving her mail in the mail box because she sent me a text two days a go to get it. (She was on a cruise. In the ocean. I did not receive the text)

I offered to bring her a new dozen of eggs from my hens (she said no). And explained there was no extra bags of goat feed for me to steal and promising I fed her goats and chickens and cats every single day. At the end she said "I guess if you say you fed my animals I believe you" in the most unconvinced tone. Girl you've been gone for a week at the very least your chickens would have died. Her reasoning for believing I didn't feed her cats is cause they were looking at her when she got home. They are fat inside cats who are heavily motivated by food no shit they looked at you.

[r-gii]

The Egg Laying of Mrs. Easter Bunny - Chapter 4

Ash Wednesday was fast approaching, the clock ticking down, and the former Mrs. Easter Bunny was coaching Buttercup on the process of Egg Laying.

"I thought you said I laid from Passover to Good Friday, Passover is still over a month away."

Mrs. Easter Bunny went red. "Sorry, I was stressed that day, I meant Ash Wednesday to Good Friday, sorry if I let on that you wouldn't have to lay as long on years where Passover is closer to Easter."

Buttercup shook her head, "I knew what you meant, I was just checking. Wanted to make sure I was really getting the full Lenten Season as promised."

"Yeah, okay, I'm sure you'll enjoy all six weeks of it," Mrs. Easter Bunny sighed.

Mrs. Easter Bunny led Buttercup into the laying room, it was decorated nicely with a soft nest in the center (basically like her bed, but for laying in. The other laying), chutes on the wall for sorting and organizing eggs, if those two words had any real difference.

"Okay, allow me to show you what you'll be doing," Mrs. Easter Bunny withdrew a fancy Easter Egg, painted with all sorts of colors, curving and swirling their way across its smooth surface. "This is an example of one of the eggs you'll be laying, most of them are about this size, but they do vary more or less every once in awhile."

Buttercup grabbed the egg, looking at it mesmerized. "Look at the size of these eggs," Buttercup squealed, "and so beautiful too, so colorful and eggy shaped" it was always good to scream in agony over something so beautiful. She looked down at herself. Newborn rabbits were fairly small, and giving birth to them still left a rabbit squealing, these eggs on the other pawpad were so much bigger. "I am in no way built in the same size or shape as a chicken to accommodate this," Buttercup observed. The pressure it would take to lay one of those when she probably wouldn't even be able to handle a small newborn rabbit, there was no way she was going to be able to take it. She moved a paw toward her back legs and tried to imagine laying on of these things. "Ooh! That is going to be so painful!" Oh how small her poor little delicate body was, there was no way this would work. It'd be so INTENSE!

Yes! Bring it on!

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and a young Blue Bird peaked in. "Excuse me missuses," she tweeted shyly, "the Nurse Maids are here."

Bambii's Mom nodded, "Send them in."

The door opened and in flew a red cardinal, self assured looking, but kind. And then from behind her - Buttercup gasped – stepped in Edwina, one of the hens from Buttercup's old farm, the same one who had mocked her about plastic eggs last year.

"Edwina!" Buttercup cried, "What are you doing here? You're... you're my Nurse Maid?"

Edwina looked at Buttercup, an even expression on her face, "I only agreed to do this because I wanted to see you squeal your little hiney off as you lay eggs for a change."

Buttercup looked at her for a second. "Well," she said finally, "I hope I don't disappoint. This is so great!"

Edwina just looked flabbergasted.

"Uh," said the blue bird in the door, "can I go now? I'm not needed anymore, right? I don't know if I want to... I don't want to be here when..."

The former Missus nodded, and the blue bird flapped out of the room as quick as her little wings could carry her.

"She's so laying eggs someday," Buttercup mussed. Birds, it was unavoidable.

Finally, Bambii came in carrying a stack of all his Easter Baskets. He put them down and looked at Buttercup. "You sure you got this?"

Buttercup nodded, and grinned at him sweetly, "Are you joking, I've been waiting my whole life for this."

Bambii nodded, "Okay, but let me know if you need anything." He picked up a few baskets and started organizing them down chutes. "I got to check on a few more things, but I'll be back as quick as I can to help you with the beginning of the process."

"Uh, not sure how you can help with this," Buttercup giggled, "but thanky."

Bambii just gave an awkward nod of acknowledgement, then went back out the door.

Once he was gone, all fell silent in the room. Bambii's mother started to gather herself to go, when after a moment of uncomfortable silence, Buttercup spoke up.

"What if I don't like it?" Buttercup asked with a sudden flash of uncertainty, "I've waited all this time to experience something like this, I've saved myself from any real pain so as not to spoil this moment, and what if I don't like it - actually hate it - and in the end, it's not worth it?"

Bambii's mom stopped at the door and turned to look at her daughter-in-law. "Well, I've literally laid billions of eggs over the years," Mrs. Easter Bunny admitted, "And I can't comprehend how anybody could experience that much pain and actually enjoy it. But I can only speak for myself, I'm not you. I can tell you, you really have no idea what your in for, but how you respond to that experience is solely up to you and you alone." Finally, she looked up at her gently, "But I hope for your sake, it's everything you hoped for. Now, I'm not going to be here during your laying, I've had more than enough to last a lifetime, but your Nurse Maids will take good care of you, okay. Well, Cardinal at least, I have no idea what's up with Edwina."

And with that, she had left. Once she was gone, Cardinal looked at Buttercup confused, "Why would you even like to be in pain?" Obviously she didn't know Buttercup all that well.

"Don't ask her these questions," Edwina said, "she's just like that. I don't think she even knows."

"No no," Buttercup said, trying to find words to explain herself, "Don't get me wrong, I don't know if it's the pain itself I like, I enjoy not enjoying it, and knowing that no male is ever going to be able to understand what that experience is actually like, and knowing that I'd be better off being a male, but I'm not, and knowing that I'll never escape being me, the one that others are lucky they're not, actually makes it all the more amusing that I'm stuck being me. The fact that I can be leveled so, that's funny." Wow, that was a real jumble of words.

The Cardinal looked at her, "I'm not sure that's exactly healthy."

"Well," Edwina admitted, "Eggs do need to be laid, we'd go extinct if they weren't. At least it's pain for a purpose." She shrunk in herself having reminded herself that she too was subject to that pain. It really wasn't pretty.

Buttercup hesitated., still not feeling satisfied with her answer. Finally, "Not to say pain isn't a great part of the process..." She closed her eyes trying to think of the best words to express herself. "It's the not being able to bear your existence, but knowing it couldn't be any other way, to know that you'd be better off if you were someone else, but then you couldn't be you if you were. It's to love to hate to be yourself, which in turn causes you love to be yourself; it's to love to hate the pain, which in turn causes you to enjoy the pain all the more. Perhaps I can't explain it any better than that, but I want to do this, I don't know why, I just do. I want to experience the pain, I want to love it, and I want to hate it, at the same time. It's just too much to comprehend."

The two Nurse Maids looked at eachother. "Okay then," Cardinal said. That was a bit much.

They stood waiting, the clock ticking down. Buttercup stepped over to the nest and felt its softness, her heart hammering in her chest. She breathed deeply, "I just hope I'm..." She hesitated, not knowing the right words.

"You just hope your strong enough?" Cardinal offered.

Buttercup shook her head, "No, I hope I'm not strong enough, that would be counterproductive for what I'm going for." She hesitated, "I just hope I'm masochistic enough. What if I think I am, but I'm really not? I'm going to be really depressed if I don't like this. If I'm not a masochist, then maybe I'm not the bunny I think I am."

"Well, you're not going to have to wait long," Cardinal said, looking at the clock. It was ticking, the last minute until Midnight.

Tik-tok...tik-tok...

And then the hour struck.

Buttercup gasped, a giant cramp suddenly clinched her insides.

Edwina looked at her. "You okay."

"I think..." Buttercup said, clinched over, "I think it's starting."

This was so much worse than a blister, the pressure was growing, she couldn't take the pressure off if she tried, it was going to keep going and going, pretty soon it would pop, and the excruciatingness that followed was sure to be unbearable.

And it was then that Buttercup realized, while her little bunny body's survival instincts were telling her to flee, to escape the inevitable pain that would follow, Buttercup realized this was her element, and this was going to be a moment she'd never regret. All this time she'd been waiting, wondering what it would feel like to lay an egg, and HERE IT FINALLY WAS! It wasn't just something she had just imagined happening to her, it was real, it was happening to her this very moment. Miss Buttercup was LAYING AN EGG!

And that's when the pressure exploded. She burst out screaming, the egg was too big for her little body, and now it was laying full of color in the nest behind her. "OW! OW! OWWWWWW!" She screamed, writhing in her little delicate bunny body, "IT HURTS SO MUCH!" Even Edwina was looking away at discomfort at what she'd just witnessed.

And then Buttercup felt her innards clinching for the next egg.

"Oh no, oh no..." Buttercup squeeled.

And in a moment, the second egg was laid, Buttercup was completely screaming her head off senselessly now.

She couldn't believe how real this all was. She wasn't screaming and crying out for effect, she really meant it, the desperation to remove herself from the pain undeniable.

...

And she loved it. She loved how no matter how much she knew it would hurt, no matter how well she had prepared herself, no matter how much she had looked forward to this moment, by the time it really happened, none of her anticipation could do anything to stop her from falling helpless into that void of agony that was consuming her. Her whole body was desperate to escape this pain, and it couldn't, and Buttercup loved that craving for relief, the desperation for escape that she knew she would not receive anytime soon. Hopefully this craving would not be met soon, because the longer the craving was unmet, the more desperate it became, and SHE JUST LOVED THIS CRAVING! Egg after egg, oh it was just too much to bear.

"THIS HURTS WORSE THAN I EVER IMAGINED!" She laughed through her screaming.

"See, I told you," Edwina said, "Egg laying hurts, do you see now that it's not just a laughing matter?"

Buttercup looked at her, tears running down her face, from pain or laughter, she could not tell. "Are you kidding?" Buttercup strained, "This is exactly the kind of stuff that's just hilarious OWWWWW! I LOVE MY BODY! OWW-HOWW!"

Never before in so much pain had she felt so much relief, she really was the rabbit she always hoped she was, Egg Laying was just the BEST! (Because it was the worst obviously)! So even though her body was screaming, her Soul had never felt more herself. She could exist peacefully now.

Edwina looked at Buttercup and blinked, obviously Buttercup was someone else entirely. "Okay," Edwina said getting down to business then, realizing it was fruitless to continue down this route of schadenfreudism "Come look at your eggs," She said picking up Buttercup's eggs and showing them to her.

Buttercup looked at them with all their many colors and her eyes lit up. "Oh my goodness, they're so beautiful. I'm laying those?"

But before she could say anymore, she gasped as she felt the next one inside her, it felt different somehow, a sharpness of a hinge as it got caught in the midst of contractions.

Suddenly, Bambii came in, he looked at Buttercup screaming out her agony and stopped. "How is she?" He asked the Nurse Maids anxiously.

Edwina looked at him, "Oh, she's doing fine. Better than she should be considering the circumstances."

"This is excruciatingly hilarious!" Buttercup gasped. "You have no idea what you're missing."

Bambii looked at her, obviously this was more her thing than his, "Uh, no thank you, I think I'll pass."

"Imagine being a boy, never having to go through this," Buttercup mussed. Bambii nodded, he couldn't imagine. Or he could imagine, whatever. He couldn't imagine being able to imagine.

And suddenly, Buttercup screamed again, and the next egg was there.

"Plastic," said Edwina, "why am I not surprised."

Buttercup struggled to rotate her body to look at the big purple egg, "Oh, my first plastic, I must see what's inside."

Bambii hoped up to his wife gently, knowing how much pain she must be in (actually, he didn't know, he knew he'd never be able to comprehend that, but he figured it was a lot), but also realizing that this was something, beyond all logical explanation, that she was rather fond of, he didn't know if he should pity her, or humor her (she'd probably want both to be honest). But he went up to her and grabbed the egg. "Okay, this one's for you."

He opened it, and inside was a... Reese's Buttercup.

Buttercup burst out laughing, she was completely delirious. She was so caught up, she didn't even realize the next egg until it came, and she was screaming all over again.

Once she quieted, Bambii slipped the Buttercup over to... wel Buttercup, "Here it's yours. I'm sure there will be plenty more where that came from." He went red, "When I say 'where that...' never mind. I mean there's more to come."

Buttercup's eyes lit up through her pain, "More to come... Just what I needed to here. Ooh, this hurts so much I can't even bear another minute. LET'S KEEP THIS GOI-OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

That egg was like twice the size of any of the eggs before it, and it HURT! Buttercup hunched over on all fours, squealing in her pain. She couldn't bear the pressure anymore, her itty-bitty bunny body was just not big enough for an egg of such size to pass through it, and that made it the greatest experience in her life.

"Oh, that's my bum in the air," she gasped through sweat and tears, "That is so embarrassing. I must be so funny looking. No way I'll make it to Easter like this. And by 'no way', I mean I'm totally making it."

Another scream as another egg came.

"Somehow," she choked.

As Bambii exited the room after sorting some of the eggs down the chutes, he found the shy little blue bird waiting by the door listening in.

"Will I sound like that when I lay eggs," she asked anxiously.

Bambii just shrugged, unsure of anything he ever thought of Egg Laying.

Another undignified scream erupted from behind the door, and the blue bird's face went red, she covered it with her wings. "Oh my," she said, "I'm so embarrassed with myself."

The Easter Bunny patted her on the head, "You're okay how you are," he assured her.

With that, he headed off to carry on his business, hoping his wife would be alright in her blissful state of woeful agony until he could come back.

"Oh Buttercup," he sighed to himself, "I love you so much, but if only I could understand you." Shaking his head, he hopped on.

[ratsoh-writes]

Emerald is clearly impressed by the craftsmanship of the adorable coop. The longer she looks at it, the more tiny details she notices.

"It's brilliant, Ram," she gushes, just imagining the hens poking their heads out the tiny faux door. She listens attentively as he tells her all they have planned.

"I'm so glad this new farm is working out so well for you. Ooh, can you hear the hens from your place? I used to love waking up as a child to the sounds of their happy little clucks when my family kept chickens. The proud noises they made when they'd just laid an egg were so endearing."

Ram: heh yep. This pale one keeps gettin’ in somehow. We think it’s using the back door when the dogs go out

[tonitheloftwing]

People debating over whether eating chicken eggs is entirely unethical is rlly funny to me lol

Hens laying an egg is basically the same as a human who ovulates. An egg is released from the ovaries, and the egg isn’t fertilized, it’s just an egg - not a developing embryo. And just like humans, if a chicken egg isn’t fertilized, it’s still gotta come out somehow. So instead of having a menstrual cycle, chickens just poop it out basically. So taking/eating chicken eggs isn’t killing a baby chicken or whatever, just like you’re not killing a baby human every time you get your period. Either way, the egg has to leave the body.

And also hens usually don’t care about their eggs… like at all. We’ve had backyard chickens on and off since I was really young, and most of the time, they could not care less about their eggs. When new ladies finally start laying, and if you don’t already have laying hens, they won’t even know where to lay their eggs - parental instincts are nonexistent. They’ll just lay that shit anywhere, which is pretty inconvenient for collecting eggs since there are a lot of ways the egg could break, you might not be able to reach it, the egg could freeze in the winter months if it’s exposed to the outside (like in a run), etc. We’ve always taught hens that “hey, you lay your eggs here” by putting golf balls in their nesting box. Not to undermine chicken intelligence, but they can’t tell the difference between an egg and a golf ball, so. And this is a well known fact on tumblr I think, but if chickens break an egg in their coop, they won’t hesitate to eat the whites and yolk. I’ve heard that they can even get a taste for their own eggs and start breaking them intentionally, and while my chickens have never done that, I wouldn’t put it past them.

The only time I’ve seen chickens get upset when you take their eggs is when the hens get broody - meaning, they’ll sit on their eggs (and often, everybody’s eggs!) trying to hatch them, and not let the other hens lay. But if you only have hens, those eggs aren’t gonna hatch, no matter how much a hen sits on them, and going broody can also be dangerous during summer months due to overheating/dehydration… so taking the eggs is a good thing in that case.

The best argument as to why eating eggs is unethical is because yeah, the eggs you’re going to find in your local grocery store were probably laid on a farm where the chickens aren’t very happy, because, like most capitalistic industries, mass production is prioritized over the happiness and wellbeing of the workers, or chickens in this case. But, there’s a solution to this! Buy farm fresh/local eggs! Idk about other places, but where I live, you can find fresh eggs pretty easily. They’ll probably be more expensive than the eggs you buy in the store, but if you want to buy eggs from happy hens, it might be worth the price for you! (Also maybe this is just because I’ve been eating farm fresh eggs for most of my life, but they taste SO much better.)

Tl;dr - Hens lay eggs regardless of whether they want to or not, and they couldn’t care less about their eggs. If you want to ensure that the hens that are laying your eggs are happy and healthy, support local farms!

[journeydb]

February 17 2023 Barcelona

I LOVE the February celebrations here in Barcelona and, of course, around the world! In some places in the Northern Hemispheres February is such a dreary, usually cold, sometimes windy or snowy, month and these time-honored holidays break up the monotony and bring much needed warmth and color to our lives. Dressing up in costumes for ZUMBA class is a great away to chase away the "winter blues".

Nuria asked me to take a photo of her for her husband so I couldn't resist having a photo taken with her and me too!

Fabio, our "fearless leader" was energized in his Darth Vader costume but his real personality is the OPPOSITE of menacing and he is everybody's favorite teacher because he's so kind, friendly, and fun!

David, the Spinning and Body Combat teacher, is a hoot! He always wears the funniest costumes.

The gym's Carnaval theme this is is Star Wars and they decorated the foyer with lots of posters from the movies, as well as balloons. Bruce and I are currently watching the Mandalorian series, which we really enjoy and which we highly recommend if you liked the Star Wars movies.

We went to dinner tonight with Carol and Xavi, who are vegetarians and I'm mostly vegan, except that sometimes I eat eggs. I try to only eat the ones laid by hens who live in cage-free environments and have plenty of room to roam. It's also preferable if they come from small family farms whose farmers care personally for their animals and raise them with organic, vegetarian food.

When we go out with Carol and Xavi we go to vegetarian or vegan restaurants and that makes us all happy, even Bruce. Vegetalia isn't my favorite vegetarian restaurant in Barcelona but it's reliably good and convenient, being close to the train station so Carol and Xavi can catch a train after dinner to take them home to Castel de Fels, south of Barcelona.

Bruce and I were still kind of celebrating Valentine's Day. Honestly, we seldom stop unless we are having a lively discussion or argument!

It's nice to have friends the same size as me! Actually Carol is a little taller but I wore heels and she was wearing flat shoes.

[stjamesmatriarchy]

Azure: Here are some mushrooms.

Kim: He likes me! I knew it!

Azure: That’s what you get from that?

Anyway, Azure heads back to her farm to grab a dozen eggs from her fridge and then…

Azure: Here. My eggs that my hens laid.

Kim: Thanks for sharing. Hey, love isn’t that easy to find in a small town.

Azure: Henford is weird.

[kokomeong]

About Free Range Eggs

When I was a kid, eggs were one of the most luxurious dishes my family could afford. Once every one or two weeks, my mom would buy eggs and made us her inherited secret recipe of shallot and chili fried egg. The recipe, she said, was invented by her father as a result of living in a poverty. One of the ingredients was a duck egg, which was and still is significantly more expensive than a regular chicken egg. In Javanese markets and stalls, duck eggs are not sold per kilo, but per egg. One egg would cost around 3,000 IDR today. Not until I was a teenager my mom told me that the duck egg was important element and that it could not be just any duck egg. When my mom took me shopping for groceries at the traditional market across the street of our rented house in Kotagede, she started explaining about the egg criteria.

The egg should be laid by a free-range duck. The duck should not be caged. And while they roam regularly and freely, they should be fed their natural diet of worms in the rice fields. This kind of method for duck farming was common in the past as the farmers could save money by not buying duck feed, but less practiced today because of the growing popularity of the modern industrial (read: western) farming approach. Thanks for the invention of the cruel A4-size battery cage, duck farmers now no longer needs to take their ducks to roam regularly at rice fields. Instead, they could be caged and be fed with artificial store-bought duck feed.

Modern laying chickens are ‘designed’ to lay at least one egg per 23 hours to maximize profit. By putting them in a battery cage, their movement is minimized and so their energy can be focused more on laying eggs. The farmers too can just sit and collect the eggs easier compared to the old, ‘inefficient’ method. After two years, the hen got to be slaughtered. In the 1980’s, my grandmother used to be a laying chicken farmer too. She let her chickens roam free from morning till evening. She did provide some cages, but the cages were big with a roof, lamp, and carpet –which she cleaned every day. The chickens were always fed with what her family had that day. The cages’ doors were never closed but the chickens always left in the morning and came back in the evening on their own. The chickens laid eggs inconsistently, the eggs were scattered along the backyard, and it was a labor work to collect them one by one. As easily predicted, the business immediately went under as it couldn’t compete with cheaper products using industrialized methods. My grandma, said, “Maybe we didn’t make it, but look at how happy our chickens were.”

Eating animals with “a happy life” probably is a concept I never heard from every religious preacher I knew. It’s not exactly their priority to discuss the most basic things we need to live as human beings: food, environment, compassion. A friend used to send me an article about The Prophet Muhammad SAW who apparently ate less meat and half-vegetarian. It was said in the article that Umar Ibn Khattab said, “beware of the meat as it can be addictive as alcohol”. The most common thing I heard from people around me was about how to kill animal with as little pain as possible, which I’m happy about. But to think that this philosophy does not also immediately translate to the treatment of animals while they live, including the cage size, the cleanliness, the transport, is beyond me. My mom never bought beef from any meat sellers in the market except one. She was a middle-aged woman from the countryside of Yogyakarta. My mom slowly but surely created more than a buyer-seller relationship with her. Turned out that this seller not only always gave her the best product (she even told us to not buy the meat if it was not good enough), but she also told the story of how the cow was treated during its life and how it was ‘humanely’ slaughtered. Later, this seller invited us many times to her small, family-owned farm house and gave us a tour, showed us the cows, even the slaughter-place. It could not be better. My mom was only a high school graduate, but she was just as revolutionary as the activists who demand better understanding and knowing where your food comes from in order to maintain our health, environment, and control of our economic needs.

When I was in Australia, that was the same experience I got whenever I visited the Farmers Market at the Adelaide Showground every Sunday morning to buy free-range eggs. In fact, I did not always buy eggs, probably only once in two or three months. However, whenever I came, I, or the seller, started the conversation about the eggs, the chickens, and their homes. The sellers would not only tell us the story, but also show the photographs and even invite you to visit their farm. I always wanted to go, but I did not have any car and I did not driver either.

Most of the sellers only brought eggs in small numbers, which I thought was in line with the idea of quality over quantity. The idea is never to force to chickens to lay eggs as much as possible to gain a bigger profit, but to offer quality products. Also, I liked the principle of buying the eggs directly from the farmers, and not giving the money to some big corporations. To resist capitalism, you don’t have to be someone who reads leftist books or joins a rally. Instead, it can be as simple as practicing direct trade and supporting small, (almost) cruelty-free businesses. It was the same year when an Australian media exposed the video of an Australia cow who was tortured by several slaughtermen in an Indonesian abattoir (the video showed that the cow was, for example, kicked, punched, or tail-cracked). If you see it, maybe you can start thinking about where your beef comes from, and whether an abattoir should be visible for public or not –because they produce the food that we eat.

Of course, you cannot just stop at and blindly believe the label. Free-range eggs, after all, represent many things I learned and embraced outside the class while I was living in Australia. Sometimes I regret about things I have not done there (mostly because of money), but most of time I feel blessed because I spent my time in Australia by choosing the way I want to live. To go to school is not about to attend the classes or do the assignments, it is about thinking and rethinking.

 PS: I am not a vegan or a vegetarian, but I support the idea to eat less and less meat, and when you do, the product should be expensive because the animals are well treated. If you want to know about the horror of the battery-caged egg industry or industrial farming in general you can just google it. However, my favorite book if you want to start being aware about this issue is “Eating Animals” that is beautifully written by Jonathan Safran Foer. You can also watch ‘Earthlings’ on Youtube.

[broodygaming]

I impulse bought some hatching eggs local on Craigslist and look how pretty they are! I have one more broody hen for the season and she’s a Big Gal so even as it starts getting chilly I feel confident she can keep her babies warm. I highly doubt I’ll get twelve chicks haha, but I guess we’ll find out in 21 days! Wish her luck!

[riverhyssop]

Not to be mistaken for a fairy fart egg, I found a tiny new egg. Which means the pullets are starting to lay!!

[feathers-scales-and-tails]

Been seeing a lot of “backyard eggs are cruel” articles lately, so I wanted to go through a couple of the points they raise and highlight why backyard eggs aren’t inherently cruel.

1) Chicks come from factory farm hatcheries

This point is entirely dependent upon an individuals purchasing choices. The only chicks coming from factory farm hatcheries are production hybrids, so ISA Brown, HYLINE Brown, Utility Leghorn, etc. so long as you don’t purchase these hybrids, you don’t support the unethical factories.

Although private hatcheries have their own plethora of ethical issues, these places are not suppliers to factory farms. The best place to purchase your chicks or pullets from is a private breeder who has good welfare standards. Neither of these options support the factory farms, and the claim that majority of backyard hens come from these factory farm hatcheries is false. I currently can’t name a single person I know with birds from a factory farm hatchery.

2) Male chicks are killed at birth

If you are buying factory farm chicks, yes. However as I mentioned above, few backyard hens are coming from this source. Private hatcheries which sex chicks either sell cockerels cheaper, or sell them in bundle deals for meat birds. Unfortunately private hatcheries are about profit, and believe it or not they can still profit off cockerels.

Private breeders rarely ever sex chicks. It requires specialised training and cockerels are harder to sell, so most sell chicks unsexed. Breeders also want to grow out these cockerels, there needs to be a keep back for the next generation of breeding. Either way, private hatcheries and breeders where a lot of backyard hens are sourced from are not killing male chicks on a large scale.

3) Hens are unhealthy and unnatural due to genetic manipulation

First of all, domestic hens lay more eggs than their ancestors due to selective breeding, not ‘genetic modification’ or ‘genetic manipulation’. Production hybrids are certainly unhealthy, laying over 300 eggs a year causes their bodies to wear out and they’re predisposed to so many reproductive issues. They were bred with the intention of maximum production, replaced after 18 months once this production declines. They are a mess and frankly should not exist.

This is the argument point which always frustrates me the most because, you do realise there are hundreds of chicken breeds right? And just like with dogs, these breeds all have different temperaments, characteristics, and health statuses.

A well bred Wyandotte who lays 200 eggs a year rarely experiences the health issues of production hybrids. These issues are almost unheard of in Sumatra or Sebright who lay 50-100 eggs a year. There are so many heritage breeds out there bred for their longevity, living on average 7-8 years rather than the measly 2-3 of production hybrids.

Most people who keep backyard hens love these birds dearly, these are their pets. Why would someone purchase an unethical production hybrid off the factory farms knowing she will die a horrible death in 2 years, when they could instead get a heritage breed who’ll lay them eggs until she’s at least 5?

I know very few people with backyard hens who keep the production birds

4) Hens are abandoned/killed when production slows/stops

I have yet to meet a single person who has purposefully gotten rid of their hens once production slows or stops.

Production hybrids rarely stop laying unless they are actively affected by reproductive complications, these birds sadly die before they stop laying so owners are definitely not ‘abandoning’ these birds, rather they die long before their time while still pumping out those eggs. Alternatively, heritage breeds will lay for years. We’ve had a 9 year old Sussex still laying eggs. For all the backyard keepers with heritage breeds, the time to ‘replace’ hens is often very far into the future.

This isn’t even raising the point that, these hens are pets. People can eat eggs and still bond fiercely with their hens, people can eat eggs and still value the life of the hen. I don’t think many people are going to turn around and kill their friend suddenly because she stops laying as frequently. My grandfather who used to own a small scale egg farm always kept his old hens who no longer laid, he’d had them for 7 years and that’s an attachment that’s hard to break.

The idea that hens suddenly stop laying eggs one day so people replace them is quite silly, it just doesn’t happen in a backyard setting. Certainly in egg farms, but not with pet hens.

5) Laying eggs depletes nutrients. Hens need to be fed their eggs to get these back

Laying eggs definitely takes up a shocking amount of vitamins, minerals, and amino acids. A big one is calcium, the egg needs a lot to shell it, but each egg also needs enough calcium stores inside the yolk to nurture and grow a chicks skeleton. If a hen doesn’t have enough calcium, she’ll draw it from her bones to produce eggs.

But the thing is, she doesn’t need to eat her own eggs to gain this nutrition back. Chickens have been domesticated for thousands of years, and in this time we’ve perfected their diet. There are many fantastic feeds on the market tailored specifically for a laying hens needs! She should be fed a pellet or mash diet, this ensures she gets the correct amount of all the nutrients, whereas with grain she can pick and chose parts and become deficient. Furthermore, chickens aren’t stupid animals. A hen will know if she needs more calcium, and this is why it’s important to offer them oyster shell, limestone, and crushed egg shells so she can eat extra calcium at her leisure.

Sceptical of the feed, or maybe you just think she deserves those eggs back after all her hard work? Well while it’s nice to treat your hens to an egg every now and then, too many can cause many fatal health issues. If she eats every single egg she lays, AND eats a nutritional balanced diet, she’s getting way too much of those nutrients since the feed is already replacing that loss. A really big concern is that she’ll put on too much weight from all the protein in eggs, this can lead to fatty liver disease which kills many backyard hens annually. Maintaining a good weight in your flock is vital to preventing other health issues too such as egg binding and heart failure.

I love letting my hens eat raw eggs, it’s hilarious and they love it. However I actually had to stop because one of my hens Sooty got dangerously overweight and was at risk of fatty liver disease. You might think feeding hens back their own eggs is great for their health, but it should be in moderation, there is too much of a good thing. Unless you’re feeding your hen rubbish, she doesn’t need the eggs since her diet replaces those nutrients daily, and please don’t feed your hens rubbish.

6) We are using the hens. They are not ours to use as we please

I suppose this point holds up depending on your personal beliefs. I personally don’t feel pet hens are being ‘used’ at all, rather it’s a mutually beneficial relationship. We give them food, safety, and friendship, so they return that friendship and sometimes eggs.

A part of domestication is that the animal adapts to living alongside us, with chickens it just happened to be the constant access to good food and a safe nest encouraged them to lay more eggs. We can’t change that now, so we may as well use the eggs. A dog or cat domesticated for companionship will provide that, are we abusing those pets as well by taking their companionship?

Also if I’m being quite frank, no one will ever get eggs cheaper by keeping backyard chickens. Feed is expensive, coops are expensive, veterinary care is expensive. Anyone getting backyard hens will have some other motive to it rather than just “I want free eggs” because these eggs aren’t free. Most people want a pet, they don’t want to support the factory farming, or they want to feel more self sufficient, maybe all three of those reasons! People aren’t getting backyard hens with the intent of ‘using’ them for eggs, because it’s cheaper just to buy eggs.

So to sum this up, backyard eggs aren’t hurting the hens! If anything, it’s helping them! Showing support for more ethical means of egg production will put pressure on the large scale egg farms to change ways. Hopefully these unethical practices will be phased out one day, it’ll take time, but one step at a time.

Thanks for reading! Epponnee says this egg is for you, they’re tasty and she wants to share! Please take it or she will keep crowing until you do!

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft (p.2)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Abuse, drunkenness, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead, decapitating a chicken, reader is kind of emotional in this chapter

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

Part 1 

_____________________

Work had passed fairly quickly as it always did when you had the opening shift. It sure sucked having to arrive at five o’clock in the morning but at least you got off earlier and you knew that that way you could grab groceries before your father got home and could yell at you about an empty kitchen again. By two o’clock in the afternoon, you were home again, hopping out of your truck and grabbing as many bags as you could in one go. 

The loud sound of metal slamming against metal shook you and you flinched, looking between your door and the frame to see Arvin walking out towards you. It hadn’t occurred to you that his car was even in your driveway. After so many years of having busted broken down old cars sitting there that your dad had been swearing he’d fix for almost ten years, cars in the driveway seemed normal. “Let me give you a hand,” he offered as he got closer, lifting the canvas bags from your hands before you could object. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed as you felt the weight suddenly taken off your own arms, “Thank you.” You dove back into the truck to grab the last two bags before slamming it shut with your hips. The two of you began your stroll towards the front door, the dirt driveway kicking up around your feet. “You’re back early.” You noted, looking over at Arvin. 

He shrugged, “Yeah, uh, Wallace had me on the early shift today.” 

You fumbled with the bags as you tried to unlock the door, kicking it open with your toes when it finally gave in. You walked into your home and Arvin followed, closing the door behind him. “Been here long? I didn’t see you in the driveway.” 

“Not too long. I just didn’t want to let myself into your home without nobody there.” Arvin set the bags on the counter next to where you set yours. 

You began to unpack the bags and put the groceries in the respective places. Arvin watched off to the side, unsure of how your kitchen was organized so he was worried he’d do more than good if he stepped in. “My daddy got the late shift?” 

Arvin shook his head, noticing that his beat up old hat was still on his head despite being indoors and took it off immediately, his tousled brown curls parting messily down the middle. “No, we went in at the same time. He ‘n some buddies said they was goin’ to some bar in town.” 

He watched your shoulders fall a little and you sighed, “Figures…. You didn’t go?” 

Again, Arvin shook his head, “No. No offense to your daddy but I don’t like to drink the way I get the feelin’ he does.” 

You snorted, turning to him with a knowing chuckle, “Let’s just say that I’m sorry in advance for whatever he says or does when he gets home, if he gets home. Sheriff Pike might end up callin’ in the mornin’ tellin’ us to pick him up.” Though it was stated as a joke, Arvin could hear the tragic reality behind your words. 

Arvin then noticed the pack of beer bottles that you were pulling out of the bag. As if you could feel his eyes looking at you with worried curiosity, you glanced over at him, noticing the way his eyes flicked between you and the beer in your hands. You offered a sad shrug, “I know what you’re thinkin’ but trust me. Sometimes it’s better to have him drunk and possibly content than sober and angry there’s nothing to drink. Besides, the beer is better than the hard stuff with ‘im.” 

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to be makin’ faces. Your business is your business,” Arvin backpedalled, giving you an apologetic nod. 

You shook your head, “Don’t worry. I know how it looks. I’m sorry you gotta see all of it. I been tryin’ to keep to keep him calm but if you end up stayin’ a while, I’m sure you’ll get to see him at his worse times.” 

Arvin chewed his lip as he contemplated whether or not to bring up what had been going through his mind but he had to make sure you were alright. “I-I heard you ‘n your dad talkin’ last night… right after you left my room.” 

Your face fell as you realized what he was talking about, “You weren’t s’posed to hear that. I’m sorry.” Shit, this was what you were hoping to avoid. 

“Are you alright?” 

Gentle. Caring. His tone was something that had been long lost to you in this house and it took the words out of your mouth for a moment. It was embarrassing, the way your heart welled up with… well love wasn’t quite the right word but the warmth of being cared about. Not since after your mother had passed had you heard somebody actually care about how you felt. 

You just nodded and gave a forced smile that you could tell was easy to see through but it was the best you could muster. For someone who was able to take so much shit from their father and was able to look the man who would throw things at you and grab you by the hair dead in the eye with nothing but contempt, it was compassion that made you crumble. It had been so unexpected, especially from Arvin, the stranger living in your house. 

“Shit, ‘m sorry! I didn’t mean to - I didn’t mean to overstep. I only…” He stammered over his words and at first you were confused until you felt the single hot tear tracing its way down your cheek. 

You were quick to wipe it away, shocked at your own uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. You hadn’t realized until now that you had zoned out on the ground while Arvin’s words repeated in your head but now a flash of embarrassment ran through you. “No, no, no. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You sniffled once before giving a small laugh of disbelief. “It’s just… It’s been a long time since anybody asked that.” 

You straightened up and ran your hands through your hair, eyes closed as you thought of what else you needed to do. Thankfully, if your dad was at the bar, you had at least another four hours to just you and Arvin, all night if you were lucky, though you seldom were. That was when the feeling of dread set in. Your dad had requested chicken roast for dinner tonight and whether he came home early and only a few beers in or you had to drive him home hungover in the morning, the man would be furious if there weren’t at least reheated leftovers for him. You had to kill Patty and prep her for dinner. 

“You okay?” Arvin asked again, though this time it was in reference to the way a heavy look fell over your features. It wasn’t a profound deep question like it was earlier. 

Your head wavered from side to side and your lips twisted, “My daddy asked for chicken roast tonight. I gotta go out and fix Patty up.” You tried to put it lightly though it felt anything but. “I’ll be out in the coop. You’re more than welcome to clean up in the shower or do whatever you’d like ‘round the house. The radio is in the livin’ room if you wanna tune into somethin’.” 

You pushed yourself off the counter and walked to the door in your kitchen that led out to the backyard but Arvin made a few steps to follow, “Is it alright if I keep you company? It don’t feel right bein’ in your house without you or your daddy here.” 

You smiled at the thought of him staying with you and you nodded, continuing out the door, “Sure, c’mon.” 

The hen house wasn’t very far from the back door. From there, you could see the several acres of land that your father was wasting. Your grandparents had bought this land in the late 1910’s and had started up a little farm of their own to sell locally, though your father had abandoned the farming portion after they died. It was where your daddy had grown up and then where you had as well. God, how you missed your grandparents. Your grandmother’s soft words of love and kindness but sternness and willingness to swat your butt with a wooden spoon if you got an attitude (though she would yell at your father if he ever tried to discipline you - “Now you leave that poor baby alone!”). Your grandfather had looked like a rough and angry old man from years of hard work but he had the softest heart of anyone you’d ever met. How the two of them had raised your father was beyond you. 

When you approached the wired fence and jiggled the lock open, the chickens inside stood surprisingly still. They trusted you. You could see it in their little brown eyes. You were safe and warm and didn’t want to harm them. You came in for the unfertilized eggs they laid and left, oftentimes with some seed and a soft pat or two on the head. Patty, a fat white hen with black specks, walked comfortably around your feet, nuzzling her head against your leg. She was the nicest hen you’d ever had. She trusted you. 

God, you were about to cry again. You bent down to pick her up and you held her against your chest, trying to look her in the eye, though it was difficult when she kept jerking it in different directions. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” you murmured low. Usually it was your father that would slaughter the hens if he really wanted the meat that badly. You had never done it yourself but he’d made you watch every time so that you knew how if the time ever came. Each time it made you sick to your stomach. 

Already, you felt green. The unassuming hen that you had been friendly enough to for her not flip out when you held her was none the wiser that her life was about to end by your hand. You glanced over to the large wood round just ahead and the axe that was leaned up against it. 

Your face contorted as you realized how much you disliked the placement. The way your father would slaughter chickens right in front of their friends made your heart break. It was barbaric. 

You walked over to Arvin and held Patty out towards him, “Would you mind holdin’ onto her for a second?” 

Though visibly confused, he took the chicken from your hands, drawing back when her wings fluttered out at the contact with the new strange man. Arvin watched as you walked towards the large round and tried to push it with all your might. “What’re you doin’?” 

“I’m-” you grunted, feeling it slide slowly, inch by inch, “trying to move it where the other chickens can’t see.” You took another moment to use all your force against it before standing up straight and breathing heavily, “I know it sounds dumb cause they’re only chickens but it feels cruel to make ‘em watch, y’know?” You went back to pushing the round and Arvin approached behind you. 

From here he could see the blood stains in the wood. It looked as if the blood had been washed off but the wood had been stained crimson regardless. There was also a divot where an axe had clearly been driven down many times over the years, chipping away at the wood. 

Arvin’s heart actually warmed a little at your attempt to show mercy and your willingness to go out of your way to spare some chickens’ feelings. It wasn’t something he was sure he’d do himself but when he heard you say it, he realized you had a point. It was cruel to imprison a bunch of animals and then lead them out one by one to be slaughtered in front of everyone, each animal waiting their turn. “Here, take ‘er back. Let me.” Arvin stepped in, handing Patty back over to you and bending down to lift the round onto its side with much effort. The wood had to weigh at least a hundred pounds and had long since settled into the ground where it had been placed when you were a child.

Your eyes widened as you watched his biceps bulge, straining the material of his blue t-shirt. You’d never seen a man with muscles like that before and you found your eyes trailing along his arms, following every popping vein from the tops of his hands, up his forearms, and onto his biceps until they disappeared beneath his shirt. It was something you hadn’t expected to see in him. Arvin looked like a quiet, polite, hardworking young man but you never would have imagined the immaculate muscles he possessed. You found your mind wandering to what other surprises laid in store beneath all those layers he wo- 

You needed to calm yourself down. If only he could hear your thoughts, he surely would be furious and disgusted with you. You hadn’t had such impure thoughts since that one time you had been messing around with Jimmy Bates in the backseat of his old car back in your senior year of high school. The two of you didn’t even go all the way but you went far enough and the guilt ate you alive since the two of you were never officially together anyways. He was just the cute boy from high school that you had pined over years that had finally given you the chance right before he shipped off to join the war. 

“This alright?” Arvin asked, shaking you from your fantasy, and you snapped back into reality to realize he had rolled the wood round around the side of the coop behind the wooden wall, outside of the other chickens’ views. 

You nodded and walked over to him, “That’s perfect. Thank you so much for doin’ that. I know it’s sorta stupid.” 

Arvin shook his head, putting his hands on his hips, “If it means somethin’ to you, it ain’t stupid at all. Besides, now that you pointed it out, it was a little barbaric.” 

You smiled up at him, one which he returned. How was this boy so damn nice? Was this some cosmic way of the universe finally giving you something good in your life? You’d become so calloused to your father’s harsh words and barked commands that you had forgotten how nice it was to feel cared about and validated. And you barely knew him. 

“‘M glad you think so.” You looked down at Patty in your arms and any good feelings you’d had melted to sadness and fear. “You been a good girl, Patty. I know you struggled with layin’ eggs for a while but you were always a good girl. Never bit me once unlike some of them other hens.” You weren’t often very soft and vulnerable but you were about to take something’s life for the first time and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of that on your heart. If this were a life or death situation, you would feel better about it, but it wasn’t. The only reason Patty had to die was because your father would throw a fit if she didn’t. 

You carried her to the log and gave her a little kiss on the top of the head, “Please don’t hate me but I understand if you do. Say hi to my momma for me, will you? Tell her I love and miss her.” You set her down and got her in the position you always saw your dad put the other chickens in before he chopped their heads off. Arvin handed you the axe with uncertainty but watched on as you struggled to bring yourself to finish the deed. 

You held her down and you could tell by the way she was flailing that she was panicking now. Patty was well aware of what was happening. “I’m sorry!” You choked, tears welling up in your eyes as her panic began to turn into your own panic. How did people do this? Why was this so freaking difficult? 

Tossing the axe slightly in your hand, you readjusted the handle and just as you went to swing, Arvin piped up, “I can do it.” 

You looked over at him, the afternoon sun reflecting the tears in your eyes and making the color of your irises stand out in tragic beauty. “I-I- Would you really not mind?” You breathed out in relief. 

Arvin stepped forward and you handed the axe out to him, “I don’t mind.” You held onto Patty until Arvin could position her just right as well. He had no idea what he was doing - he’d never had to slaughter a chicken before. He had heard that all you had to do was cut their head off though and then he’d heard the rumors of them running around like crazy even after their head hit the ground. How hard could it be? 

Once he had the hen pinned down where he wanted her, he looked up to see you chewing on your thumb, brows knitted in discomfort. It wasn’t the first chicken you’d watched get slaughtered but it was far from something you enjoyed observing. Arvin signaled to you with a nod before raising the axe above his head and you shut your eyes tight, flinching at the sound of the old metal head thudding into the old wood. 

**

You had the carcass sitting in the sink while you pulled off the blood soaked feathers, depositing them into the trash bin by the handful. This part was easier for you, something you’d done many times in the past. “Thank you for doin’ that. I’m sorry I’m such a baby.” 

Arvin sat at the kitchen table behind you, “You ain’t a baby just cause you don’t like to kill things. I’d say it’s probably rather normal.” 

The time was inching closer to four o’clock now and the sun was beginning to hang ever so slightly lower in the sky, the precursor to sunset. It was warm outside and a cool spring breeze blew in through the open window above the sink. You snickered as you pulled another handful of feathers out, “Yeah? That mean you ain’t normal?” You looked over at him with a playful glint in your eye but your smile fell when you saw an uncomfortable look cross his face, almost like he’d seen a ghost. 

“I ain’t never said I liked killin’ either.” Arvin attempted to match your joking tone but it was pretty evident there was a weight behind his words. 

“Hey, I‘m sorry. I was only jokin’.” A pang of guilt washed over you but it was only that. A joke. You hadn’t imagined teasing him over something like killing a chicken would set him off, especially since he volunteered to do it for you, but apparently you were wrong. 

Arvin sniffed and scratched his nose, “I know.” After a moment of awkward silence, he stood, “Let me give you a hand. What do you need done?” 

You scanned his face once more to make sure he was really okay but you decided to drop it when you saw his insistent look. You shook your head, “I got it. It ain’t much after I get this all gutted and cleaned.” You picked up the mostly featherless carcass by the wings and plopped it back down into the sink. 

“Well ‘m sure there’s vegetables or somethin’ else that goes with it, right? Let me start cuttin’ those up.” His persistence was adorable, making your heart flutter in the most wonderful way. The idea of a man actually being helpful was unknown to you before Arvin. Your life had been filled with your dad’s drunken bossings since you were twelve years old. You couldn’t remember the last time a genuinely kind voice offered you anything more than a smile on the street, not that you took that for granted. Arvin was just different though. Noble and helpful and kind. 

“You really don’t have to-” 

“Yeah, you keep sayin’ that but I really do want to help. So what can I do to make things easier on you?” He took a few steps closer to you until you felt the beginning of what could have been sparks if he stepped any nearer, like when you hold two magnets a few inches apart and you can feel the energy between them, that hint of attraction, but it’s not quite close enough to pull them together. 

The blush in your cheeks at his simple gesture made you break the eye contact with a nervous laugh of retreat, “Okay, fine. If you’re gonna be so insistent,” you drew out with a teasing drawl, “you can cut up veggies. There’s potatoes over there and carrots and zucchini in the fridge.” 

Arvin’s lips turned up in a small smile when you finally resigned your stubborn ways and he went off to find the vegetables where you had directed him. 

Needless to say, when your father came home from the bar to find you and Arvin talking over a song by the Platters playing on the radio with Arvin cleaning up the dishes while you tossed together the vegetables and the seasoning, he was less than pleased. 

“What the hell is going on here?” His slurred speech made your eyes widen in fear. He was supposed to get home later like he always did. But then you found yourself chiding your irresponsibility. Why the hell would you take that chance? You knew better than to let Arvin help out and now you were gonna pay. 

Arvin sensed the way you tensed up beside him and watched as you spun around to face your father with haste, “Just finishin’ up dinner now. Should be ready by six so you got more than enough time to take a sho-” 

“Why the fuck is he doin’ the dishes?” You father was leaning against the wall, clearly relying on the structure for support. This wasn’t the time to test him, not with Arvin here. It was times like this when he’d start throwing stuff at you. 

Before you could say anything, Arvin piped up firmly but respectfully, “I offered, sir. It’s no problem at all.” 

Your dad pointed at Arvin, “A man ain’t got no place with his hands in a sink of dishes. You leave that shit to her and she’ll just grab you a beer.” He stumbled over his own feet before catching himself ungracefully. 

Arvin’s jaw set tightly and you gripped the countertop with white knuckles behind you. Times like this, you weren’t even sure what to say anymore. No amount of standing up for yourself got you anywhere with him. You never made any headway with your dad’s sexist views on gender roles. It was pointless. The only thing to do was try and work your way to supporting yourself so you could get the hell out of dodge and never look back. 

Arvin’s voice surprised you, “A man’s place is helpin’ out the women in his life when they need, not leavin’ ‘em to do all the housework themselves.” You nearly choked on your own tongue at his words. It was a bold statement for a man to make, especially to the head of the house that was being so gracious as to host him free of charge, but he didn’t back down. It appeared like the jab was lost on your drunken father but Arvin continued with a slightly less accusatory comment to diffuse the situation regardless, “I grew up helpin’ my grandma with all the house chores so I really don’t mind at all.” 

You watched the way your dad eyed Arvin and then you before scoffing and grumbling incoherently as he shuffled his way into the living room. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “I don’t want you gettin’ kicked out ‘cause of me. You didn’t have to say nothin’.” 

Arvin glared at where your father had disappeared and nodded, “Yeah, I did. You don’t deserve all the shit he gives you.” 

You suddenly found yourself avoiding his eyes and twisting your lips. He was right and you were well aware of that fact. The abuse your dad put you through was uncalled for at best. The fact that Arvin had actually taken the time to not only notice the same fact but acknowledge it and stand up for you was something you never thought you’d hear someone do. It made you uncomfortable. You’d been fighting this battle by yourself for so long that letting somebody even know it was being waged was enough to make you want to sink away. Even so, a part of you wanted to let Arvin keep standing up for you. It made you feel weak after having to stand up for yourself for so long but also validated. 

Your eyes flicked up to meet his for only a moment before turning back towards dinner that sat in a roasting pan on the stove, “Thank you.” 

______

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