Persephone, welcome to a thawing land
God knows when and where I caught this cold, but it's a pretty awful one, and it's laying me out for a bit. I thought it would be better by today but no such luck! I'm guzzling down water and taking vitamins and whatnot, but it might be time for two more aspirin and crawling back into bed, haha. But regardless, life has been pretty kind-- here are some of the things that made me happy this week *____*
Spring
“Manly,” says Cap, “what’s your favorite food?”
“That’s a difficult question,” says Almanzo. “Probably apples, I guess.”
“...Must you be such a horse all the time,” asks Cap.
“Well, what about you?” asks Almanzo. “What’s your favorite food?”
“Pie,” says Cap. “Deep blueberry pie, with handfuls of fresh, juicy blueberries on top, the kind where the filling oozes out onto the plate when you take your knife and cut right into-- no, wait, there’s pumpkin pie, pumpkin pie with spices, I do love a good slice of pumpkin pie... Then again, what about rhubarb pie with plenty of sugar... with ice cream... oh, I love ice cream, that’s got to be my favorite. Except for maybe sopping up the last bit of maple syrup with bites of pancake, that’s really second to none-- or, you know, candy-- how could I forget candy, because honestly, candy is--”
“Okay,” says Almanzo. “Stop.”
Summer
Cap turns the bundle over in his hands, and looks at Almanzo suspiciously.
“I don’t know what this is,” says Cap.
“You should open it,” says Almanzo. “I spent a lot of time on it, you know-- happy birthday.”
He really did spend a lot of time on it. Royal had been decidedly difficult, laughing in his face when Almanzo had asked him to teach him how to whittle. Then once Royal had realized he was serious, Almanzo still had to hide away the fruits of his endeavor, sneaking in a few minutes every day to work on it all summer long. Lying there in the shredded nest of tissue paper, it’s every bit the masterpiece he intended it to be-- thick and solid, polished to a dark gloss, modeled perfectly after his own penis.
Cap dangles it distastefully from his fingers.
“What,” says Almanzo, “you don’t like it?”
“I don’t know, it’s a bit...” Cap trails off. “I mean, I appreciate the effort, Manly. But here’s the thing-- I’ve heard that there’s this cobbler in Minnesota who makes these out of leather, and Laura and Nellie say that the way the stitches feel when you push them into yourself--”
“Where do you learn these things,” asks Almanzo.
“School, Manly,” says Cap. “Education is important.”
Fall
In October, an entire wheel of cheese goes missing, and that’s the last straw. Almanzo can’t even keep track of what’s been stolen so far; cured ham, jars and jars of all kinds of preserves.
But he jumps out one night at the sound of hushed footsteps moving through his pantry, and he’s as startled as the thief is, when he sees that it’s Cap.
“It was you?” he asks, dumbfounded. “You’ve been raiding my pantry?”
“I’m so sorry,” says Cap, links of sausage spilling out of his arms. “It’s just that we’ve been so hungry, my entire family-- what with the terrible harvest this year, and no one bringing in any money aside from what little our crops can get-- we’ve been living on bits of old bread boiled in rainwater--”
This is not even remotely true. Almanzo knows the Garlands had an excellent crop, with enough tomatoes to spare, and that Cap’s sister is busy teaching in a town down south. But Cap puts the sausages back on the shelf and drops to his knees, brushing his hand across the front of Almanzo’s trousers.
“Just please don’t take me to the law, Mr. Wilder,” he says. “I’ll do anything.”
He licks his lips slowly, mouth lush and wet in the moonlight. This is slightly odd, thinks Almanzo as Cap takes him down his throat, but a farmer never complains.
Winter
Nellie gathers her coat a little closer against the chill. Recess is only fifteen minutes long, and she’ll have to hurry. But the ground has finally iced over, and she does so want to go sleighing behind Almanzo Wilder’s beautiful horses. Taking a little time to ask him privately would be worth it.
She tiptoes inside the feed store, where the front room is empty and unlit. But there are sounds coming from the back, and she raises a hand to knock-- when a loud moan cuts through the door.
“Manly,” comes a desperate voice -- Nellie recognizes it as Cap Garland’s -- “God, oh, Manly--”
“Tell me what you want,” and that’s Almanzo Wilder, dark and low, thrilling through her.
“PUT YOUR BIG HARD STALLION COCK IN ME,” shouts Cap, “YOU STUD.”
Nellie’s hand falls to her side.
“MANLY, I WANT TO BEAR YOUR CHILDREN,” shouts Cap, “IMPREGNATE ME WITH STURDY FILLIES WE CAN BREED FOR A YEAR OR TWO AND SELL OUT EAST AT THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS APIECE--”
Nellie walks all the way back to the schoolhouse and sits back down at her desk, very pale.
“Why, Nellie!” says Laura when she sees her. “Whatever is the matter? Are you ill?”
Cap Garland bounds in through the door, flushed and grinning.
“Hello, girls,” he says. “Want some candy?”
That’s what it was, thinks Nellie as tears flood her eyes. That’s what he was doing! It was for the candy-- candy for us--
“Oh,” she chokes out, “Cappie, you shouldn’t have.”
Mary Power glares at her, but Mary Power, Mary Power doesn’t know.
- sirona_gs is writing Arthur-is-a-magical-chef fic! It is so awesome, so much awesomer than anything I could have imagined, and it is right over here for your reading pleasure. Neve is a goddess.
- jibrailis continues making the world a safer place through shameless and scorching Little House on the Prairie porn. Speaking of which, I ended up making a tag for it here, because it is apparently where I go when I am not coherent enough to write actual Inception fic, haha. No thanks to two_if_by_sea. Explode THIS boiler, asshole.
- Everything about pyrimidine ♥ ♥ ♥
- This conversation with my mother regarding a potential blind date:
ME: But he's just not that hot!
MOTHER: Will you stop being so obsessed with the physical, what are you, some sort of pervert? Try being more like me, try being attracted to what's inside a person-- for example, I have felt stirrings of love for an average-looking postal worker--
ME: ...Wait, wait, who is this postal worker...
MOTHER: Don't change the subject.
ME: No, I think this is the subject now.
- BUT WHO IS THAT POSTAL WORKER?!
Spring
“Manly,” says Cap, “what’s your favorite food?”
“That’s a difficult question,” says Almanzo. “Probably apples, I guess.”
“...Must you be such a horse all the time,” asks Cap.
“Well, what about you?” asks Almanzo. “What’s your favorite food?”
“Pie,” says Cap. “Deep blueberry pie, with handfuls of fresh, juicy blueberries on top, the kind where the filling oozes out onto the plate when you take your knife and cut right into-- no, wait, there’s pumpkin pie, pumpkin pie with spices, I do love a good slice of pumpkin pie... Then again, what about rhubarb pie with plenty of sugar... with ice cream... oh, I love ice cream, that’s got to be my favorite. Except for maybe sopping up the last bit of maple syrup with bites of pancake, that’s really second to none-- or, you know, candy-- how could I forget candy, because honestly, candy is--”
“Okay,” says Almanzo. “Stop.”
Summer
Cap turns the bundle over in his hands, and looks at Almanzo suspiciously.
“I don’t know what this is,” says Cap.
“You should open it,” says Almanzo. “I spent a lot of time on it, you know-- happy birthday.”
He really did spend a lot of time on it. Royal had been decidedly difficult, laughing in his face when Almanzo had asked him to teach him how to whittle. Then once Royal had realized he was serious, Almanzo still had to hide away the fruits of his endeavor, sneaking in a few minutes every day to work on it all summer long. Lying there in the shredded nest of tissue paper, it’s every bit the masterpiece he intended it to be-- thick and solid, polished to a dark gloss, modeled perfectly after his own penis.
Cap dangles it distastefully from his fingers.
“What,” says Almanzo, “you don’t like it?”
“I don’t know, it’s a bit...” Cap trails off. “I mean, I appreciate the effort, Manly. But here’s the thing-- I’ve heard that there’s this cobbler in Minnesota who makes these out of leather, and Laura and Nellie say that the way the stitches feel when you push them into yourself--”
“Where do you learn these things,” asks Almanzo.
“School, Manly,” says Cap. “Education is important.”
Fall
In October, an entire wheel of cheese goes missing, and that’s the last straw. Almanzo can’t even keep track of what’s been stolen so far; cured ham, jars and jars of all kinds of preserves.
But he jumps out one night at the sound of hushed footsteps moving through his pantry, and he’s as startled as the thief is, when he sees that it’s Cap.
“It was you?” he asks, dumbfounded. “You’ve been raiding my pantry?”
“I’m so sorry,” says Cap, links of sausage spilling out of his arms. “It’s just that we’ve been so hungry, my entire family-- what with the terrible harvest this year, and no one bringing in any money aside from what little our crops can get-- we’ve been living on bits of old bread boiled in rainwater--”
This is not even remotely true. Almanzo knows the Garlands had an excellent crop, with enough tomatoes to spare, and that Cap’s sister is busy teaching in a town down south. But Cap puts the sausages back on the shelf and drops to his knees, brushing his hand across the front of Almanzo’s trousers.
“Just please don’t take me to the law, Mr. Wilder,” he says. “I’ll do anything.”
He licks his lips slowly, mouth lush and wet in the moonlight. This is slightly odd, thinks Almanzo as Cap takes him down his throat, but a farmer never complains.
Winter
Nellie gathers her coat a little closer against the chill. Recess is only fifteen minutes long, and she’ll have to hurry. But the ground has finally iced over, and she does so want to go sleighing behind Almanzo Wilder’s beautiful horses. Taking a little time to ask him privately would be worth it.
She tiptoes inside the feed store, where the front room is empty and unlit. But there are sounds coming from the back, and she raises a hand to knock-- when a loud moan cuts through the door.
“Manly,” comes a desperate voice -- Nellie recognizes it as Cap Garland’s -- “God, oh, Manly--”
“Tell me what you want,” and that’s Almanzo Wilder, dark and low, thrilling through her.
“PUT YOUR BIG HARD STALLION COCK IN ME,” shouts Cap, “YOU STUD.”
Nellie’s hand falls to her side.
“MANLY, I WANT TO BEAR YOUR CHILDREN,” shouts Cap, “IMPREGNATE ME WITH STURDY FILLIES WE CAN BREED FOR A YEAR OR TWO AND SELL OUT EAST AT THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS APIECE--”
Nellie walks all the way back to the schoolhouse and sits back down at her desk, very pale.
“Why, Nellie!” says Laura when she sees her. “Whatever is the matter? Are you ill?”
Cap Garland bounds in through the door, flushed and grinning.
“Hello, girls,” he says. “Want some candy?”
That’s what it was, thinks Nellie as tears flood her eyes. That’s what he was doing! It was for the candy-- candy for us--
“Oh,” she chokes out, “Cappie, you shouldn’t have.”
Mary Power glares at her, but Mary Power, Mary Power doesn’t know.