#'no i think the writer is just feeling weird today' said the farmer

[thestuffedalligator]

The trees lumbered across the field.

It was a weird thing to watch. When a tree settled to rest or sniff at an interesting crocus, she could almost believe that it had been rooted to the spot for years; then the huge body would raise up on spidery roots and trundle forward with stupid placidity to follow the herd. When they all had settled to rest in the morning light, it was like the field had been turned into a misty woodland in seconds.

A sapling bounded up to her and sniffed at her wrist before bounding off again, spindly roots kicking with delight.

"It's pretty simple work," said the farmer. "We let them out to get some fresh air and sunlight, check them for blight. Every so often we have to lay out some manure, but that's pretty much it."

She watched the sapling. It stumbled on its own limbs and limped into the shade of its mother.

"It's pretty similar to raising cattle," said the farmer. "We raise them up for a couple years, and when they get big enough we take them down to the slaughterhouse and have them butchered."

"Wouldn't you send them to a logging mill or something?"

"Nope."

A chickadee whirred through the air and lighted onto a branch.

"There's good money in it, too," said the farmer. "There's a lot of demand for certain cuts of tree meat."

"You mean wood?"

"Nope."

There was a blur of branches. The tree ate the chickadee.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Fresh Starts

Leah (Stardew) x Selectively Mute She/Her Reader

A/N: Thought I’d try something different with this one. Sorry if I didn’t detail the instances of sign language very well, or if they are a little off, I did try. Also Kel is an asshol in this when they show up so get ready for that. Robin is cool mom and Abigail is the friend who is always ready to fight at the drop of a hat. Also, time is so weird in Stardew? There are four season in a year but each season is like a month so a year is like four months. Time is scary. I hope you like it! Word Count: 8,943

~

“So, someone has finally taken up that old farmland,” Leah heard Gus say to Harvey as he fixed the good doctor a drink at the bar, “‘Heard Lewis and Robin talking about it outside of Pierre’s yesterday.”

“Is that so?” Harvey was tired from a long day at the clinic, but being ever polite, he humored Gus and rested fully against the bar stool.

“Mhmm, looks like the old man’s kin is finally gonna make something of it. A few years late though I must say, that place is well overgrown. It’s gonna take a lot more than a little elbow grease to spruce up that dump,” Gus chuckled good naturedly and handed Harvey his beer, “I wish them luck, whoever they are.”

“Bah!” Leah jumped in her seat tucked away in the corner. Pam must have been listening in too. “If they’re smart they’ll just sell the heap of trash to Joja. M’sure they’d get a pretty penny for it.” Pam spoke bitterly. Shane, who was also quite drunk at this point in the night, took the opportunity to add his two cents in and yell across the bar.

“Why would they get your daughter for selling out to Joja?”

“That’s not what I meant, dumbass!” Pam roared back, slamming her beer on the table with a loud thump.

Leah decided she’d call it a night then. Without Elliott to crack jokes with, the saloon could get real depressing real fast with Shane and Pam racing each other to see who would get alcohol poisoning first. Even Clint was just sad to watch. The poor man sitting hopefully, waiting for Emily to even just turn in his direction. Leah finished the rest of her beer and paid Gus, giving the man a sympathetic smile as he left to cut Shane off.

Leah shivered in the cool spring breeze as she walked along the river bank to her cottage and her thoughts wandered back to what Gus had been gossiping about.

“A new face around Stardew Valley, hm?” Leah mused, kicking a stray pebble in her path, watching it skip across the cobbled stone. “I guess I won’t be the town newbie anymore.” She smiled and turned to look in the direction of Marnie’s home, knowing that the farm was somewhere just beyond. As Leah turned the key to unlock the door of her small cottage, she wondered what changes this new resident might bring.

***

“Have you met our new resident farmer yet?” Leah heard Caroline ask Jodi as she walked across the town square.

“I suppose you could call it that,” Jodi laughed, “It was a very brief meeting to say the least.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one then,” Caroline sighed, putting a hand to her chest in relief, “I thought I had offended the girl somehow, she never said a word. She just walked into the shop and pointed to a few seeds she wanted to buy, then she handed Abigail, Pierre and I daffodils and went on her way. Not so much as a sound.” Caroline explained, still bewildered by the interaction.

“Sounds about right,” Jodi nodded, “She knocked on the front door and handed me a single clam. Which was nice I suppose, but so very odd. She gave Vincent a daffodil too,” Jodi smiled, “He was very pleased. I’m sure she would have given Sam something as well if he could wake up at a more reasonable time.”

“Oh, Leah! Good morning!” Caroline had caught her. Leah put on her most sociable smile and walked forward, greeting the two women.

“Good morning Caroline, Jodi.”

“Have you been visited by the farm fairy yet?” Jodi asked, chuckling along with Caroline.

“I’m afraid not.” Leah admitted. “Although Elliott says I am a bit difficult to track down at the best of times.” She laughed good naturedly.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll get you sooner or later. She seems to be on a mission to greet the whole town. If you can call it a greeting I suppose. I don’t even know her name.” Caroline realized.

“It’s (Y/n).”

The three women jumped and turned to a grinning Robin, walking up to them with her yoga mat swaddled under her arm.

“Her name is (Y/n). She’s quite the character, huh?”

“Robin, you helped Mayor Lewis move her in didn’t you? What can you tell us?” Jodi asked, looking for any crumb of information she could get on the mysterious girl.

“Not much to tell,” Robin shrugged, “Just a sweet kid wanting to get away from the pressures of the big city,” she sent a knowing look at Leah, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Leah laughed politely, twisting a finger around the tail end of her braid as blush settled in her cheeks faintly.

“But why is she so... you know, quiet?” Caroline asked.

“Hm, well, she did give me her blessing to explain should it come up.” Robin took a moment to think of how to proceed, absently tapping her fingers against her mat. “(Y/n) is selectively mute. She has the ability to speak, but she’s just not comfortable enough to do so at this time. This move was a big decision for her, and she’s excited, but it’s just gonna take some time before she feels secure enough to communicate orally.”

“And how did you get all this information out of her?” Caroline wondered.

Robin secured her yoga mat between her thighs and presented both hands, pointing her index fingers outward and drew a couple large circles in the air with the tips of her extended fingers. “Sign language!” Robin grinned, before taking a hold of her mat once more.

“Oh how clever!” Jodi praised. “I wish I understood sign language.”

“I’d be happy to show you a few of the basics sometime. If you really need to ask (Y/n) something though she will have no problem writing out answers for you.” Robin informed. “Now, are we working out today or...”

“I completely forgot!” Caroline smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, “Yes, let’s go. Poor Marnie is probably wondering where we are. Are you going to join us Leah?”

“I’ll pass, thanks. I’m heading to the beach to do some painting,” Leah explained, motioning to her bag.

“Alright, see you around!” Caroline, Jodi and Robin bid Leah goodbye and hurried to the general store.

Leah sighed, as much as she liked the people in this town they were so chatty. She could have been at the beach forever ago! Once she arrived, she saw Haley sunbathing. Not unusual, but as she kept walking closer to shore she saw Elliott splayed out over the sand laying on his stomach.

Leah rolled her eyes and walked over, playfully kicking the man’s arm, causing him to squint up at her.

“Is there some kind of new writing exercise I should know about?” She asked, playfully.

“I wish, this is simply writer’s block at its finest.” Elliott groaned. “That, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with this,” he sat up and produced a wild horseradish from his jacket pocket.

“Why do you have a horseradish in your pocket?”

“A girl I’ve never seen before in my life gave it to me. Then she took off before I could refuse. Didn’t even say a word.”

“She’s totally weird, but she did give me a daffodil so I guess she’s not that bad.” Haley called from her own spot in the sand.

“Has everyone met the new girl except me?” Leah wondered aloud.

“She’s been making rounds. I’m sure she’ll find you eventually.” Elliott said, resting his chin over his arms.

“You make her sound so ominous.” Leah laughed, lowering herself to the sand and taking out a sketch pad.

“A silent specter. A harbinger of-“

“Oh can it, drama queen,” Leah smirked, “so she gave you a horseradish, it’s not the end of the world. She was just trying to be nice.”

Elliott pursed his lips, propping his head up with one hand he turned the horseradish in the other offering it to Leah. “Do you want it? You’re all about foraging.”

“I mean, if you’re not going to use it sure. Put it in my bag.” Leah relented easily. Her eyes only leaving her paper to study the horizon for a moment, then continue to sketch.

Leah stayed on the beach with Elliott for a couple of hours, talking  sketching, and painting. Finally she stood and stretched, patting the sand off the back of her jeans. “I should get going. See you around.”

“See you.” Elliott nodded, splitting off from Leah to head over to his shack.

Leah hummed to herself as she walked through town, making her way past Jodi’s house and entered the Cindersnap Forest. As she rounded the corner of her cottage, she paused in her tracks. Observing a young woman staring at her door with dandelions in one hand and her other poised to knock on the weathered wood.

Leah flinched slightly, she had stepped on a twig, snapping it and alerting her visitor of her presence.

Startled eyes met Leah’s own and the farmer straightened from her previous position, stepping back from Leah’s door.

She smiled shyly, giving Leah a short, jaunty wave before gesturing between Leah and the cottage a moment. Then she stood still. An expectant look on her face.

Leah simply stared back, blinking before she registered the silent question. “Oh! Yes, I live here. That’s my house. You’re (Y/n), right? Robin told me about you, I’m Leah.” She smiled kindly, coming forward to offer (Y/n) her hand to shake.

Instead of grasping Leah’s hand, (Y/n) cupped it with her gloved hands, turning Leah’s hand palm up and placing the dandelions inside.

“Ah, thank you.” Leah chuckled, “These will make a great salad.”

(Y/n) nodded vigorously, then moved to make her exit. Leah wasn’t sure what possessed her, but she called out to (Y/n) before she could get too far.

“Wait, I um, it’s not much but I did take an intro to ASL course my freshman year of college so, I’m a bit limited but if you ever want to talk, you know...” Leah wished she could stop talking right now. Why had no one told her that the farmer was cute!? “So, yeah, you know,” Leah fumbled with her free hand, her fingers sat just underneath her chin before she sent them forward, “Thanks again.” She smiled nervously.

(Y/n) stared at her, dumbfounded. Then she released a short, sharp exhalation of air that was reminiscent of stuttered laughter and turned back to stand before Leah. (Y/n) made a timid approach and gingerly took Leah’s wrist, still hovering midair, and guided the hand back to rest on Leah’s chin, just below her lip. Leah stood still as stone as (Y/n) held it there for a second then extended the hand forward. She repeated the motion twice more before backing away and releasing Leah from her gloved grasp. The smell of earth and grass still clung to Leah’s nose even after (Y/n) had stepped back.

“Oh, I did it wrong, didn’t I?” Leah blushed, “Is there a big difference between the two?”

(Y/n) blew out a large breath of air and nodded. One of her gloved hands came up to cover the amused smile fighting against her lips.

“What did I say? Was is embarrassing? Yoba, I need to know,” Leah carefully set the dandelions at her feet and rummaged through her bag. Taking out her sketch pad and a pencil, she flipped to a clean page and presented the materials into the rough fabric of (Y/n)’s gloved hands, “Please, tell me.”

(Y/n) shot Leah a sympathetic smile, then she looked down at the paper and wrote quickly and concisely. She looked over her work, nodded to herself, then she handed the sketch book and pencil back to Leah before jogging of in the direction of her farm.

“Eh- Hey! Wait a minute!” Leah took a few strides after the farmer but quickly gave up, electing to look at the paper in her hand instead. “Maybe I’ll tell you some other time. Nice meeting you Leah, smiley face.” Leah read aloud to herself. She scoffed, but couldn’t stop the smile that had conquered her lips. She couldn’t wait to see (Y/n) again.

***

“Hey, Maru-“

“I think I have a feeling about what this is about, but just in case, please proceed.”

The next morning, Leah had made her way to the clinic to visit Maru and perhaps get the answers she was looking for. She had made the trek to (Y/n)’s farm first, but she wasn’t there. A little note hastily taped to the farmer’s door revealed that she was spending the day fishing in the mountains and wouldn’t be back until late at night.

“Maru, you know sign language like your mom, right?” Leah asked.

“Sure do. Seb and dad do too.” Maru nodded, leaning over the clinic counter. “But I’ve got to tell you that if you’re looking for the meaning of what you accidentally signed to (Y/n) last night, we were sworn to silence earlier this morning before (Y/n) went fishing. Sorry.” Maru smiled.

“Ugh,” Leah sighed, leaning her forehead against the counter. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Well, it’s really funny. Especially considering how chill you normally are and your kind disposition.”

“Yoba, I really need to know!” Leah groaned against the counter.

“Well my family can’t tell you. You’ll just have to wait to hear it from (Y/n),” Maru grinned and pushed away from the counter, “I have to prepare for Evelyn’s check up now so I’ll see you around Leah.”

“Yeah, bye.” Leah grumbled, watching Maru disappear into the back offices. “Well, there goes that plan.” She mumbled under her breath as she left the clinic.

Leah spent the rest of the day sculpting in her cottage. She spent hours getting lost in the chipping of the wood before finally going to bed.

***

It had been days since Leah last saw (Y/n) and if the farming life wasn’t so demanding, Leah would have been worried that she had deeply offended the farmer to the point that she was purposely avoiding her. Leah decided not to waste the time she had been presented with.

She approached Robin about sign language lessons, enough to get some basic phrases and words. She practiced the motions herself, perfecting them to allow for no mistakes. Although she knew (Y/n) could hear her just fine, she found it easier to retain the lessons this way. Not to mention that it was just a useful language to know.

“I’ve hardly seen you around. I was worried you stabbed yourself with your woodworking tools.” Elliott said as Leah came up to sit next to him in the saloon.

“And you didn’t think to come to check on me?” Leah looked at the writer incredulously.

“Nope.”

Leah punched Elliott’s arm and he laughed. Before long, Emily came by with their food and they ate comfortably.

“Would you look at that.” Elliot spoke, pointing in direction of the door as he swallowed another bite.

Leah turned to look, purple irises sparkling at the sight of (Y/n) lugging a large bag up to the bar. She watched Emily talk (Y/n)’s ear off, the poor farmer smiled uncomfortably while trying to divide her attention between her and Gus who had apparently requested a variety of fish.

“Wow, Robin said you were in trouble but you really are,” Elliott chuckled behind his beer, “You really lit up just now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Leah scoffed, still watching (Y/n) hand Gus fish after fish. It was almost comical how such an objectively small bag could hold so much.

“You can’t keep your eyes off her. I realize the dating pool in Stardew is small, but the girl just got here.”

“Elliott, stop!” Leah blushed, looking back down at her plate to stab at her salad.

“I’m just saying, you’re already taking sign language lessons for her you might want to dial it back a little bit. You wouldn’t want to come off as the obsessive type.”

“Oh! She’s leaving, should I offer to walk her home? I’m going to offer to walk her home.” Leah dug in her pocket and pulled out some gold, pushing it over to Elliott.

“What did I just say?” Elliott called after Leah, as she eagerly jogged to the exit to catch (Y/n) walking in the direction of the Cindersaps, perfect!

“(Y/n), good evening!” Leah called jogging up to the farmer only to have the farmer gasp and take several steps away from Leah, holding her hands out as a warning to not come any closer. “I’m sorry, I’m didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” Leah gasped, maybe Elliott was right.

(Y/n) shook her head, slowly taking a step back towards Leah, presenting her slightly soggy bag and waving her hand in front of her nose, scrunching her face as she did so.

Leah was sure the movement wasn’t an official ASL sign, but it did help get the point across and she giggled.

“What? Do you think you smell?”

Another nod and a look that seemed to say that she didn’t just think so, she knew so. She had been in the mines all morning and fishing at the beach all afternoon. She couldn’t wait to take a shower.

“It’s alright, I won’t judge you,” Leah smiled, “Are you heading home for the night? I’d be happy to walk with you since it’s so dark.”

(Y/n) took a moment to think about it before nodding shyly and motioning Leah closer. Leah happily obliged walking alongside the farmer into the Cindersap Forest. The walk was mostly silent, but that was to be expected nonetheless, Leah was having a great time. They had even found a couple of leeks along the way which (Y/n) had insisted Leah keep. All too soon, they reached the porch of the old farmhouse.

“You’re crops look great,” Leah complimented, looking for an excuse to stay even just a few minutes more, “really healthy. What all have you been growing? Are those potatoes and turnips?”

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder as she unlocked her door. Her eyes focused on where Leah was pointing and nodded affirmingly.

“Yeah, I’m no farmer but I love foraging. I’ve got a few really good books about wild foods and where to find them and when. It’s kind of like a scavenger hunt.” Leah grinned.

“Mhmm.”

It was quiet, a little strained, but the small hum of agreement almost sent Leah into cardiac arrest. She sounded so sweet! Leah’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how widely she was smiling.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. So, I’ll see you around?”

(Y/n) looked like she wanted to say something, but settled for a simple nod, fiddling with the gardening gloves she had taken off. Leah smiled softly, watching how the farmer intently eyed the fabric twisting in her hands.

“Feel free to drop by the cottage whenever it suits you. I’ll leave the door open!” Leah added, waving over her shoulder as she turned to walk away. (Y/n) beamed, looking a bit more lively as she waved back.

Leah turned her back on the house and walked back to her cottage in the Cindersaps with a skip in her step and a painfully large smile on her face. Although it was already late, she prepared a new block of wood for sculpting. Her new muse had granted her a vision for a grand project and had the potential to be one of her greatest works yet.

***

“Kel, I told you to stop calling me. I’m not coming back to the city, we are through.” Leah frowned, her hand gripped the phone receiver so tightly that she could hear the plastic giving slightly under the pressure.

She was so focused on combating Kel’s useless bargains that she hadn’t noticed the timid farmer show herself in, looking at Leah’s tense shoulders and back with concern. (Y/n) flinched as Leah cut off Kel to speak again, her voice low and stern.

“There is nothing you could say, nothing you could offer me, that would make me come back. Move on, and please, for the last time, do not call me again.” Leah slammed the phone down on its perch. Pressing her palms into her eyes she let out a frustrated groan, slowly positioning her hands to rub at her temples to combat the headache she felt coming on.

Then she heard the door creak.

Leah quickly turned around just in time to see (Y/n) looking back at her with wide eyes and lips pursed thin as if she had been caught witnessing an event she had no business seeing. Which was partially true, but Leah had told her a week beforehand that she could drop by anytime.

“(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise!” Leah grimaced, watching (Y/n) flinch and look down sheepishly at her feet. One had managed to retreat back out the door before being caught and it was slowly joined by the intruding foot, so (Y/n) was fully outside again. Leah shook her head and calmly approached the farmer.

“Please don’t leave, I’m the one who told you to come let yourself in whenever. I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.” Leah was worried, watching (Y/n) linger in the doorway. Her shoulders relaxed when (Y/n) cautiously came back inside and closed the door behind her.

(Y/n) stood in the entryway and looked over Leah, her eyes filled heavily with concern. She raised a hand, pointing to Leah before signing the letters ‘o’ and ‘k’.

“I’m okay. I’m just,” Leah fumbled for the right words, “mad, sad? Exhausted.”

(Y/n) made another gesture, shaping her fingers into a ‘hang loose’-esque sign. Her curled fingers meeting her chin. She lowered the hand momentarily to give it a controlled shake before bringing it back up into the starting position.

“What’s wrong?” Leah mumbled, making sure she understood. (Y/n) nodded. “I just got a phone call from someone I didn’t want to talk to is all,” Leah sighed, “They’re an ex of mine. The person who called.” Leah disclosed, rubbing the back of her neck, agitated.

(Y/n) signed again, but Leah didn’t quite catch it that time so she motioned (Y/n) over to her dining nook and sat her down with some paper and a pencil. The farmer seemed a bit unwilling to write it out, feeling like it was more insensitive somehow but with a little prodding from Leah, she gave in.

“Was it a bad break up...” Leah read aloud. She sat back in her chair and carefully chose her words. “Sometimes it feels like we’re still breaking up,” Leah chuckled wryly, “Kel, my ex, didn’t like me perusing art. They didn’t think I could make a living out of it and wanted me to waste away at some office job and well, I didn’t want that. They weren’t respectful or supportive of my dreams, so I left. They call me a lot though, to try to convince me to come back to the city... that I won’t make it as an artist. That I can’t be happy without them. It really is exhausting and the worst part is, I worry that they’re right.” Leah released a shuddering breath, “I haven’t sold a single piece. I don’t really even know how to start. I can sustain myself on what I have in my savings account for only so long.”

(Y/n) covered Leah’s hand with her own, squeezing it. Leah marveled at how soft it was in comparison to her own, especially since it was the hand of a farmer. Perhaps the gloves (Y/n) always wore had more practical uses rather than simply being worn for aesthetic’s sake. Leah chanced a look at (Y/n)’s face and was caught off guard by the determined fire blazing in her eyes. Then Leah’s attention was brought back to the table as (Y/n) furiously scratched the pencil against the paper and forcefully pushed her newly composed message in front of the sculptor, her other hand still rooted over Leah’s.

Leah read over the note and felt her heart ache with appreciative warmth. ‘You were brave enough to know what you wanted and even though it wasn’t easy, you went for it. That in itself is an amazing accomplishment that you should not take lightly. Your dream is not unfounded either, I’ve seen some of your sketches and paintings and I think you are very talented. Once you figure out how to put yourself out there you’ll have people begging you to take their money.’

Leah sniffed and smiled at (Y/n) appreciatively, turning her hand to reciprocate (Y/n)’s strong, yet gentle hold on her. “Thank you, (Y/n). I just wish I knew how to start.”

(Y/n) tapped her chin with the pencil as she thought. When she had an idea, she pulled the paper back to herself and wrote a suggestion.

“An art show? Oh, I don’t know (Y/n). It hardly seems possible.”

(Y/n) shook her head in disagreement and wrote more.

“You really think the town would want to help? Are you sure you want to help? You’ve got enough on your plate already with how busy the farm keeps you. I don’t want to impose.”

(Y/n) looked as if she had something to say, her throat bobbed and her lips twitched, but in the end she settled for the paper again, still too anxious to speak. After Leah had read the reply, she felt (Y/n)’s thumb rub against her knuckles and looked up. (Y/n) nodded, her expression serious. She wanted to help Leah with this.

“Thank you, (Y/n)!” Leah sniffled, holding back tears. She launched herself into (Y/n)’s arms and hugged the surprised farmer close. “Thank you so much!”

(Y/n) slowly returned the hug, smoothing one of her hands over Leah’s back in comforting motions. It was a bit of an awkward position with (Y/n) still sitting at the table and Leah hovering over her, but it felt nice.

“Sorry,” Leah chuckled after a moment, leaning back and wiping a stray tear from her eye, “I kind of caught you off guard with that didn’t I?”

(Y/n) shrugged and smiled good naturedly. A look came over her face as if she just remembered something and she stood up to grab her bag from the cottage entryway. She grinned when she found what she was looking for and made her way back to Leah, holding out a brown paper package to her.

“For me?” Leah asked. (Y/n) nodded and gestured for her to take it. Leah carefully unwrapped it and gasped. “(Y/n), is this goat cheese? I love this, how did you know?”

(Y/n) raised her hand, signing the letters ‘E’ ‘L’ ‘L’ ‘I’ ‘O’ ‘T’ ‘T’.

“Elliott hm?” Leah laughed, “I’m glad you two are getting along after the horseradish debacle.”

(Y/n) crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. She wasn’t looking back on the memory fondly.

“Hey, I’m with you on this one. He was being an ass. How could you have known he hated horseradish.”

(Y/n) nodded in agreement, one of her hands reaching out as if to say, ‘exactly’. She then noticed the time on Leah’s clock and signed that she had to go.

“I see.” Leah smiled sadly, trying not to let her disappointment shine through. “Good bye then, and (Y/n),” Leah signed ‘thank you’, very mindful of the position of her hands this time around, “seriously thank you for everything.”

(Y/n) beamed, giving Leah a thumbs up before heading out the door.

***

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Leah kept mumbling to herself while watching her fellow Pelican Townies set up her creations in the town square. There were already some tourists looking around and Leah felt her nerves fraying.

“Hang in there, kid. Everything looks great. Don’t worry so much.” Robin snuck up on Leah, making her jump. “It’s a beautiful summer day, don’t forget to enjoy it.”

“I’m trying, Robin. It’s just so much.” Leah said, nervously playing with her sleeve. Robin noticed Elliott walking up and motioned him to help deal with the artist while she went to help Demetrius move a heavy wooden sculpture.

“Come on now, Leah. Too late to back out now.” Elliott grinned, thumping her back. “(Y/n) seems especially excited by how things are progressing.”

Leah chanced a glance at (Y/n) and Maru putting up paintings between signing each other excitedly. The scene warmed her heart and her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try.”

“Great, now let’s go woo some tourists.” Elliott said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“What? Elliott, no!” Leah shook her head.

“Not like that,” Elliott laughed, “I know your heart belongs to someone else. I just meant,” he looks around before whispering in Leah’s ear, “woo them out of their money.”

Leah laughed and pushed Elliott away. “Alright, you focus on the wooing and I’ll focus on explaining my thought processes.”

“That doesn’t sound as fun, but okay, this is your day.”

As Elliot and Leah made their way across the square, an unwelcome guest watched them from afar. Their blood boiled as they saw Leah pause at the makeshift painting gallery to give the farmer’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

***

“I can’t believe we sold so many!” Leah spoke in ecstatic disbelief as she waved at the last car she and (Y/n) had just loaded a heavy wooden sculpture into before it drove away. “This is crazy!”

(Y/n) wore a smile that matched Leah’s, happy to watch the sculptor bouncing in place. When Leah finally stilled, still giddy, she took both of (Y/n)’s hands in hers. Once again free of the gloves, the hands were pleasantly soft against her own and she relished in the feeling.

“(Y/n) I know it’s kind of late, but I have something I want to give to you. I left it at my house so I’m going to go get it. I’ll meet you at the farm, is that alright?”

(Y/n) stared at Leah, her curiosity piqued. She nodded, easily giving Leah the answer she was hoping for.

“Great! I’ll be there soon!” With one last squeeze of the farmer’s hands, she was off. (Y/n) heard the crack of a twig, but when she turned to investigate, nothing stood out so she made her way back to her farm to wait for Leah.

When Leah came up to the porch, (Y/n) had to do a double take at the big wooden statue she was lugging along. With one last huff of air, Leah placed the statue at the base of the steps and grinned up at (Y/n), wiping a bit of sweat from her brow.

“Thanks for waiting. It was a little more ah, heavy, than I expected.” Leah laughed sheepishly. “Come take a look.”

(Y/n) stepped off the porch and circled the piece, taking in every detail. Leah felt nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach while she watched the farmer scrutinize the work and cleared her throat.

“I started working on it in the spring. I also incorporated some of that driftwood you gave me a few weeks ago. Anyway, I made it with you in mind. It’s called, ‘How I Feel about (Y/n)’ and I’d be honored if you would accept it as a gift for everything you’ve done for me.” Leah stared at her feet as she spoke, too embarrassed to keep her eyes on (Y/n) while she spoke. Then a pair of boots joined, hands came up to clasp her own, pulling the conjoined grasp into her line of vision and coaxing her to look up into (Y/n)’s eyes.

“It’s wonderful.”

At that moment, Leah thought her heart must have been beating so hard that it was affecting her hearing.

“Hh... huh?” Leah asked, rather dumbly.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly, took a deep breath, and whispered, “It’s wonderful, Leah. Thank you.”

Leah looked absolutely awestruck, purple irises shone with excitement and she laughed, pulling (Y/n) into a tight embrace.

“I’m glad you like it.” Leah sniffled, resting her face in (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Leah?” (Y/n) wrapped her arms around the artist, it was only one word, her name, but Leah heard the concern in the farmer’s tone.

“I’m okay. I’m just happy,” Leah sniffled again, “I’m happy you felt comfortable enough with me to speak to me.”

“Me too.” (Y/n) whispered, holding Leah tighter.

The pair found it difficult when they had to part ways for the night, but they were equally excited over how their relationship was developing, looking forward to spending more time together over the summer.

***

“Come on, just a little further...” Leah coached herself. She was reaching for a piece of fruit hanging from a branch just out of her reach.

She had planned a picnic with (Y/n) for this afternoon. She had already set up under the big old tree near the pond and as she waited for (Y/n) to finish up with her crops and animals for the morning, when she spotted the unusual fruit. Now she was jumping and stretching for the fruit just out of reach.

“Almost— Ah!” Leah struggled to balance herself in the air, swiveling her head to peak over her shoulder, she saw (Y/n) looking up at her with a mischievous grin. Leah rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the side of her lips. She turned back to the task at hand and grabbed the fruit, motioning (Y/n) to put her back down.

“Show off.” Leah scoffed, lightly punching (Y/n)’s shoulder. “You wanna try a bite?”

“Yes, please.” (Y/n)’s cheeks heated when Leah pressed the fruit to her lips. She took a bite of the offering, savoring the taste. “It’s so sweet.” She said, amazed.

“Right?” Leah smiled, “It’s rare to get fruit from this tree. Usually all the animals snap it all up as soon as they’re ripe, but it seems they miss some from time to time. How is everything with the farm this morning?”

“All is well,” (Y/n) nodded as the pair made themselves comfortable on the blanket Leah had set up, “I would have been here sooner but the goats kept standing in front of my cheese and mayo machines, the chicken coup too. Made it a little difficult.” (Y/n) disclosed. “Which reminds me,” she rummaged through her bag, “goat cheese salads.”

“Mmm, this looks heavenly. Thank you for making these.” Leah said, eagerly stirring in some vinaigrette into the generous fresh salad.

“No problem. Selling my harvest is nice, but it feels so much more rewarding enjoying it like this.” (Y/n) informed, mixing her own salad.

“I can imagine,” Leah hummed and leaned her back fully against the trunk of the tree, “Ah, it’s such a lovely day for this.”

“Mhmm.”

They ate the rest of their meal in peaceful silence, listening to the birds sing and the fish leap, the breeze rustling the trees and grass around them. It was tranquil, it was perfect.

“Hey, Leah,” (Y/n) spoke, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” Leah asked, turning her gaze away from the sketch pad she had brought out.

“It’s almost Fall you know, we’ve known each other for nearly two whole seasons. Half a year, it’s crazy, right?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long, doesn’t it?” Leah giggled, “What made you think of that?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you something. Don’t feel like you have to answer one way or the other, but...” (Y/n) paused, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Hey, it’s okay (Y/n). You can tell me anything. Sign it out if you want to.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just nervous,” (Y/n) turned to her bag and pulled out a lovely bouquet of flowers, “Leah, would you maybe consider being my girlfriend?“

“Yes!” Leah enveloped (Y/n) in a tackle like hug that sent them both to fully meet the ground, accidentally crushing the flowers between their bodies, “Oops, sorry,” Leah wiggled the flowers out from under her to look at them more closely, “these are lovely, (Y/n). I didn’t know Pierre had these in yet.”

“He didn’t, I planted them.” (Y/n) clarified, smiling up at Leah who still hovered over her, giggling.

“Of course you did, you’re so sweet.”

“I try.”

“Are you kidding me!”

Leah and (Y/n) quickly turned to face the disturbance, scrambling to sit up from their compromising position. Leah felt her stomach twist with discomfort seeing Kel of all people marching up to them, absolutely fuming.

“Seriously, what the hell, Leah?” Kel yelled, their hands clenched into tight fists as they closed in, making yard after yard disappear between them.

“No, more like what the hell, Kel? I broke up with you seasons ago. What are you even doing in Pelican Town?” Leah retorted angrily, as (Y/n) helped her to her feet. Kel watched the motion and ground their teeth.

They were already dangerously close to crossing the threshold of the blanket and that small display was enough to send them stomping over the edge.

“I came for you, obviously! I’ve been slumming it in that dusty old saloon since your art show, waiting to talk to you! Now I find you sucking face with some country bumpkin nobody!” They seethed, stepping even closer into Leah’s personal space until (Y/n) pulled Leah back behind her, making Kel even more incensed. “You stay out of this. I’m talking to Leah!”

(Y/n) held strong, stuck between the harsh obscenities attacking her from the front and the loving affirmations defending her from behind. She held her arm out, willing Kel to stay back as she slowly started to guide Leah back in the direction of town for help. Kel ignored the warning and followed after them.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? You think you’re being some kind of hero right now?” Kel seethed.

(Y/n) stayed silent, she had gone mute again and who would blame her in the face of such a tense situation? She was so very uncomfortable, scared even, but she continued on passed Marnie’s since she knew the woman wasn’t home at this time and she sure wasn’t going to expose Jas to this. Jodi’s house was their next best bet.

“Hey, you obviously want to start something here. You’ve got something to say to me?” Kel continued forward.

“Kel, leave us alone!” Leah commanded, “It’s over, it’s been over, go home!”

“You think you’re too good to talk to me?” Kel yelled, ignoring Leah. “She’s just a whore. She just latched onto the first warm body she could find after her little meltdown. You’re not special.”

(Y/n) froze stiffly in place, Leah felt the muscles on her shoulders tense so she tried to pull on her arm to keep her moving.

“Ignore them, (Y/n). Let’s focus on getting to town, okay?” Leah pleaded. But (Y/n) gently pushed off Leah’s hands and took a step towards Kel with a cold glare. Leah stepped to stand beside (Y/n)’s side, nervous that a more serious confrontation was about to unfold.

“Well?” Kel spat.

(Y/n) crossed her arms, turning her head to look at Leah. The look on her face was all the communication Leah needed to understand. It was definitely a, ‘they better back off or I’m going to knock them off their block’ face. Leah had never known (Y/n) to be particularly violent, but with all the time she spent in the mines, she had no doubt that she could take care of herself.

Leah gasped when Kel suddenly roared, lunging forward. Apparently they had not liked how (Y/n) and Leah had been paying attention to each other rather than themself. Kel had rocketed forward and aimed to punch (Y/n) hard over her cheek, however, at the last moment, Leah pushed her aside and took the blow for her.

(Y/n) inhaled sharply and caught Leah as she stumbled back, noticing how blood immediately began gushing from Leah’s now broken nose.

“Ow- AH!” Leah cried, her hands muffled her voice since she had covered her nose and mouth.

It only took a second for (Y/n) to return the favor to Kel’s stunned face. She punched them fast and hard over their cheek, but Kel was quick to fight back and now it was a full out brawl.

“What’s going on, we heard yelling— holy shit!”

Leah turned away from the fight to see Sam, Seb, and Abigail running up on the scene.

“(Y/n)’s throwing hands!” Abigail yelled, sounding way more excited than worried.

“Leah are you okay? What’s going on?” Sebastian asked, noting the concerning amount of blood running down Leah’s arms and the front of her shirt.

“Don’t worry about me, stop them!” Leah winced, taking one hand away from her face to motion to her ex and her new girlfriend still going at each other.

“Damn, Abi! Go get your dad and Harvey too by the looks of it!” Sam yelled, he seemed to be looking for an opening to push the fighters apart.

“Are you kidding? You get my dad, I’m getting in on this!” Abigail cheered and ran up to jump on Kel’s back like she was at a rodeo while (Y/n) landed a good hit on Kel’s stomach. “Nice punch, (Y/n)!”

“Oh Yoba, Sam, start running.” Seb suggested, trying to help Leah with her nose. He was no Maru, but even he knew how to set a broken nose. Especially within the first couple weeks of Sam taking up skateboarding.

“Right!” Sam ran off back into town screaming. A few tense minutes later and Pierre, Caroline, Robin, Elliott, Maru and Harvey came running behind Sam to break up the fight.

“Abigail, stop!” Pierre huffed, pulling off his daughter and passing her off to his wife, “I taught you what I did to defend yourself, not to lash out like a wild animal!” He grunted, pulling Kel into his grasp and trapping their arms behind their back with Elliott coming up to assist.

“Come on dad, I was helping a friend! What’s the big deal?” Abi groaned, while her mom fretted over her, looking for injuries.

“Easy there kid, it’s over.” Robin coaxed (Y/n), pulling her back. The farmer slumped over in the carpenter’s hold, breathing heavily.

“Is (Y/n) okay? Ah!” Leah hissed as Harvey touched up her nose, giving her a nasal spray before wedging a couple wads of tissue up her nostrils.

“Sorry, Leah.” Harvey sympathized, “Maru is going to check up on her now.”

“What about me?” Kel hissed. Pierre had them resting on their knees. They looked really roughed up. A black eye was already forming and scratches and bruises littered their skin, they were also holding their stomach rather tightly.

“You’ll just have to wait a minute.” Elliott frowned, staring down at the stranger with contempt.

“Don’t you have any police officers in this backwater town? I’ll sue every one of you for withholding care to someone who is obviously hurt!” Kel threatened, grinding their teeth.

“Oh, the police are coming alright!”  Caroline spoke indignantly. “You are in no position to be asking for anything right now, bringing violence to our community, you should be ashamed!”

“(Y/n) can you look up for me, please.” Maru asked, carefully tilting (Y/n)’s chin up. (Y/n) sucked in a breath when Maru touched her bruised jaw a tad to hard. “Sorry, Your jaw is bruised pretty badly. Your bottom lip split too. How is your vision?”

(Y/n) shook her head and winced, cradling her head in her hands.

“Okay, possible concussion. We’ll need to observe her at the clinic.” Maru said.

“Alright, come on bruiser,” Robin grunted, heaving (Y/n) to her feet, “Sebbie, help me walk her into town please.”

“Sure mom.” Seb took (Y/n)’s other side.

(Y/n) patted Robin’s arm, motioning her to wait. She slowly turned to Kel and leaned more heavily against Seb as she freed her other arm from Robin to snap her fingers aggressively, looking for Kel’s attention. Once Kel looked up at her, sneering from their spot in the dirt, (Y/n) turned briefly to make sure Leah was watching. When she saw that she was, she smiled as if to say, ‘watch this,’ and turned back to Kel. (Y/n) brought her flat, angled hand below her chin and sent it forward in the direction of Kel’s confused, but no less, pissed face.

“Oh ho! (Y/n) is such a badass!” Abigail laughed.

“Abi, since when do you know sign language?” Sam asked, clearly confused.

“I don’t, but I’ve spent enough time searching curses in different languages to know that was totally a ‘fuck you’. Personally I think a middle finger approach would have been an appropriate classic myself but whatever.” Abigail shrugged.

“Abigail, language!” Caroline scolded.

“Sorry mom.”

“Alright, you’ve had your fun. Clinic, now.” Robin tried to hold in a laugh as she repositioned (Y/n)’s arm over her shoulder. Then she and Seb began walking (Y/n) back into town.

Leah made to follow, but as they were leaving, the police from the the next town over had arrived and they needed her statements as a witness. Never mind that she was covered in her own blood and her girlfriend was being dragged away to the clinic with a concussion. Once the officers were satisfied, they took Kel away with promises to be back for (Y/n)’s statement and to see if any charges would be made. For now they were just going to take Kel back to a hospital in Zuzu City since they may have broken a rib or two in the fight. After that, they were going to be free to go.

Leah wasn’t too worried. She didn’t think Kel would come back after the beating (Y/n) and Abigail gave them. She watched the police car drive out of Cindersaps, taking her disgruntled ex away.

“Leah, I’m sure you want to get to the clinic but you should really clean up first.” Caroline had said patting the younger woman’s back. “(Y/n) will be fine.”

“Yeah, Harvey and Maru got her. Take some time to process.” Elliott smiled.

Leah could only nod tiredly. She trudged over to her cottage to shower and change. She still couldn’t believe how quickly things got out of hand. She looked at her bandaged nose in the mirror, hissing when she gingerly touched the bridge of it. She was wary of Seb setting it himself, but Harvey said he had gone a great job. Once she was physically put back together, Leah quickly made her way to the clinic.

“Where is she?” She asked immediately upon arriving. She sounded a little congested thanks to her clogged nose, but she was easily understood. Robin was still in the waiting room and filled her in.

“Harvey and Maru are talking her through concussion care. She’s okay, but I don’t think she’ll be allowed to work for awhile.”

“Oh no,” Leah sat down, resting her elbows on her knees and covered her eyes with her hands, “This is all my fault.”

“Aw, don’t say that sweetheart. You know that’s not true.” Robin frowned, taking a seat beside her, “(Y/n) would hate to hear you think like that.”

“(Y/n) loves her farm! If she can’t maintain the upkeep...” Leah continued, teary eyed, only to be silenced by Robin.

“I’m going to stop you right there. Nothing is going to happen to the farm. Abi, Sam, and even Seb already told (Y/n) in no uncertain terms that they were going to pitch in while she recovers. Everything is going to be taken care of.” Robin assured.

“Still none of this would have happened if-“

“If you hadn’t broken up with your ex? Moved to Pelican Town? Got a crush? Leah, you can’t punish yourself for moving on with your life. You’re allowed to be happy.” Robin chided gently. “It was hard for me and Sebastian’s father to see eye to eye at the best of times. Now I have Demetrius and although he can be a bit annoying sometimes with his tomato bullshit, not a day goes by that I’m not grateful I took that first step because I love him.” Robin smiled.

Leah’s nose hurt like hell as she tried to carefully wipe the tears from her eyes and Robin rubbed her back affectionately. Once Leah had calmed down, Robin stood and stretched.

“She’s been wondering where you are. The doc is keeping her for overnight observation, but your welcome to stay with her. I on the other hand, am apparently too old for this much excitement and need to go home.”

“Thank you Robin, for talking to me.”

“Anytime,” Robin grinned, “now go get her.”

Leah made her way into the back area of the clinic and nearly ran up to Harvey, Maru, and (Y/n). (Y/n) was signing to Maru while she relayed the information to Harvey as he examined (Y/n)’s well being.

(Y/n) was relieved to see Leah and eagerly motioned her to come sit on the edge of the bed she was sitting in which Leah did happily.

“Leah, how’s the nose?” Harvey asked while he finished up (Y/n)’s chart.

“It’s fine. Just, really sore and tingly.”

“So not fine.” Maru chuckled. “I’ll get you some pain meds.”

“Ah, thanks Maru.” Leah smiled sheepishly.

“Well, Ms. (Y/n),” Harvey sighed, turning his attention back to the farmer, “you and I are in for a long night. I’ll be waking you up every hour to check your pupils to see if your condition changes at all.” Harvey stood and stretched, “Ms. Leah, feel welcome to stay as long as you like. It can’t hurt to keep an extra pair of eyes on her.”

“I could stay overtime, Harvey.” Maru said as she came back with two pills and a glass of water for Leah.

“I seem to recall you talking about a time sensitive experiment this morning.” Harvey recalled, making Maru smack the side of her head. “You’re right! I got to go now! Good night everyone!” Maru called behind her as she rushed out to the waiting room then out of the building.

“I’m going to take the first of my many naps lined up for tonight. I’ll see you ladies in about an hour. Try to get some rest.” Harvey said before leaving to walk up the stairs to his apartment.

Finally Leah and (Y/n) were alone again. (Y/n) sunk down into the covers and sighed deeply. She turned to face Leah, concerning the sculptor by how small she looked.

“You’re not too upset with me, are you?” (Y/n) asked, surprising Leah.

“I’m not upset with you. Why would I be upset with you?”

“I just beat the crap out a person. Sure they are your ex, but you cared about them at some point so it must have been hard to watch. I can’t imagine what you must think of me now.” (Y/n) whispered, she was so quiet Leah had to lean closer and even then she was straining to hear.

“(Y/n), I like you. Nothing that happened today changed how much I like you. It certainly didn’t make me like you any less,” Leah rested her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek, “Kel made their choice when they decided to come to Pelican Town and confront us. I wish it hadn’t gone down the way it did, but that’s not our fault. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too. I was worried.”

“I wish we could start this day all over,” Leah moaned, “First day as official girlfriends and we get into a fist fight.”

(Y/n) laughed lightly, closing her eyes to combat the pain that came from her jostling. “Abigail thought it was a pretty great date activity.”

“She would think that.” Leah rolled her eyes, “she also eats rocks.”

“Well, think about it this way. Until I’m allowed to take up all my farming duties again, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“Whatever I want, hmm?” Leah tapped her lips with her index finger, “would it be to forward if me to ask for a kiss?”

“You may, just be careful with my split lip. I won’t be able to explain what happened to Harvey if you make it worse.” (Y/n) said.

“One gentle kiss, coming right up.” Leah wiggled on the bed’s stiff hospital sheets until she laid face to face with (Y/n). Their lips met in a soft brushing that was almost ghost like, but rather than leaving them with a chill, warmth bloomed between them.

“Wow.” (Y/n) grinned.

“If you thought that was good, wait until I can get more involved with it.”

“So confident. I like it.” (Y/n) squinted, “could you turn the light off? It’s really starting to hurt my eyes.”

“Of course.” Leah got up and switched off the half the lights to keep their side of the room in darkness but allow Harvey to still be able to see when he came back.

“Now come cuddle, please.” (Y/n) asked sleepily reaching her arms out.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Leah kicked off her boots and shimmied under the sheets to join (Y/n) and wrapped her arms around her. Leah let the exhaustion of the day roll over her and she had nearly let sleep claim her before her eyes shot open and she propped herself up on her elbow to lean over (Y/n).

“Did I really sign a ‘fuck you’ when we first met?!” She asked, appalled.

(Y/n)’s response was to laugh sleepily into Leah’s chest.

[redrobinhoood]

the lakes | chapter 1, something of good quality

A sequel to no choir

AO3 Link | 2,800 words (approx) | Chapter 2

A/N: Experimenting with putting chapter titles on Tumblr

This was supposed to be a oneshot. It was supposed to be an in out and done. Less than 15% of this chapter was planned. I’m in writer’s agony.

Story Summary: Fox and Riyo are at peace. But Fox's injury has yet to heal, and they find themselves redefining who they are now that their prior identities have been stripped away. [M rating]

Riyo awoke to an empty bed beside her and the sound of retching. She threw off the covers and hurried to their bathroom to find Fox bent over the toilet. She sat down beside him and pulled him into her arms when his body had stopped heaving, running her fingers through his sweaty hair as he rested his head against her breast.

“I thought they’d said one month?” She said softly.

“So did I.” He huffed. “And I waited three.”

“We can go to a medic in the morning if you want.”

“I’ll see how I feel.”

Riyo reached behind her for the closest towel and wet it with water from the bath tap before raising Fox’s head from her chest and cleaning off his lips with the wet cloth. After she had set the towel aside she leaned down to kiss him, gently brushing her lips against his before she pulled his head back to her chest. “I just want to know you’re healing.”

“Well, my stomach works.”

“Fox.” She chided.

He laughed. “But not my liver, can’t even process weak Phibian beer.”

“Who would win; one genetically engineered super solider with patented DNA and deadly accuracy, or half a glass of rye water?” She teased, grinning as she felt his chest shake underneath her touch.

“I didn’t even drink the whole bottle.”

She leaned down and pressed a kiss into his jaw, taking delight in the scratchiness of his short beard against her lips. “I won’t tell Jek and Thire.”

“No, please do.” He chuckled quietly. “They’d love to hear from you.”

Riyo took in a deep breath, trying to cement the moment in her memory. Fox’s laugh, the press of his head against her breast, the sterile bathroom lighting falling over their bare skin. “Want to go back to bed?”

“Yeah. I think my stomach is settled.” He rose slowly from her lap and waited for her to stand beside him before they made their way back into the bedroom together. Riyo gently pushed him back down into the sheets before she herself slunk down into them. She turned away from him, pressing her back against his body, giving him room to breathe. But Fox wasn’t having that tonight. She felt an arm snake around her waist before he pulled their bodies together and buried his face in her hair. She draped her arm over his and closed her eyes, listening to him breathe her in as they fell back into sleep.

---

The light coming in through their bedroom windows woke Riyo first. Finding that she had turned onto her back during the night, she slowly opened her eyes to find that her head was resting against Fox’s, whose face was still buried in her hair, though now in the crook of her shoulder. Some small movement of her waking woke Fox in turn, and he stirred beside her.

“Jate vaar’tur, cyar’ika.”

“Kaliméra, philaítatos.”

“Oh?”

“Two can play at this game, Fox.” She craned her neck down to kiss his forehead, then his nose, then his lips as he pushed closer to her. Then she was the one being kissed when Fox leaned over her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, stroking the smooth skin beneath them. His hands were roaming over her bare torso, one thumb lazily stroking the curve of her hips as the other teased the waistband of her underwear.

He leaned further over to plant a kiss against her neck, only to flinch and draw away with a groan, reaching for the fresh scar in the center of his torso. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry.” Riyo sat up to press her fingers over his, fully covering the damage that the sniper’s shot had left behind. She pried his fingers away from the scar and pressed her lips against the pink skin to leave gentle, fluttery kisses over the exit wound, then the surgical scars that his recovery had left behind. “I know sex has been painful for you with this bastard.”

Fox took her face in both hands and raised it back up from his chest. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You did take two shots of blasterfire for me the week we met.” She closed her eyes and accepted his kiss. “And I know that you respect my opinions and will go to a medic today because you don’t want me to worry over you.” She continued when he had pulled away.

Fox laughed and brushed his lips against hers one last time before drawing away completely. “I guess the matter is settled then. Such a politician.”

“Blackmail is my specialty. Get me and a Jedi in the room and-.” She stopped, remembering there were no Jedi. Not anymore.

“I know, it’s still weird. And I was there.”

Riyo sighed and ran a hand over her scalp to push back her hair from her face. “Do you think the Emperor had anything do with it?”

Fox shook his head as he got out of bed. “I think he’s a slimy conspiring snake, and was a traitor to the Republic, but even he is just a politician, in the end. A damn good one too.”

“Has Thire found anything out?”

“No. He says the Emperor is good at covering his tracks. But I trusted him, Riyo. I really did.”

“I know.” She threw her legs over the edge of the mattress and stood up, walking around the foot of the bed to Fox and taking his hands in hers. “But that’s in the past. All that matters now is me getting you into the shower because you still smell like vomit.”

“And yet, you still kissed me.”

She took a moment to take in the man before her. The scars that stretched across his bare skin, a bruise stretching up from the waistband of his boxers from when he banged his hip against the counter two days ago, the familiar curves of his body that she had so often traced with her palms. “The logical part of my mind wasn’t awake yet. It is now.” She stepped back from him and slipped her underwear off, managing to throw it in the dirty clothes bag she had propped open against the packing crate that their bed had come in.  She didn’t look back at Fox’s reaction as she stepped into the bathroom to turn on the shower tap.

Fox joined her before the water had warmed. “You know it’s never too late in life for you to become a hover ball player.”

“That toss was for me, Fox.” She laughed. “Personal accomplishments are important.”

“After you missed with your socks last night.”

“I’d like to see you try to throw your clothes across the room!”

“Oh I’m sure you would.”

She reached out a hand into the water and found it to be satisfyingly warm. “I’ve changed my mind.” She said as she stepped in. “This is my shower now and you’re going to have to wait.”

“How ever will I recover from this devastating loss of my shower privileges? I suppose I should go for a run and come back and lie down in our bed to sleep it off.”

“Are you going to roll around in the dirt too while you’re out there? You animal. I suppose I could make an exception. Just this time mind you.”

“Just this once, I understand.” Fox stepped into the shower with her. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, head turned to block the flow of water from her face. Like this, she could feel the strong beating of his heart against her cheek. She could feel that he was alive. He reached around her for the soap, then he was running lathered hands over her body. She relaxed further into him as he rubbed slow circles in the soap on her back, wishing they could stay like this forever.

---

The smell of breakfast in the air reached Riyo even in the bathroom, where she sat perched on the countertop drying out her hair. Once, she would have immediately pushed it up into a ceremonial updo. But these days, she let it hang loose down her back. She didn’t know why she still dried it instead of patting it down with a towel and letting the warm air of Numidian Prime lift the moisture from the strands. She supposed that old habits die hard. Except for makeup. She’d had no issues with ditching her long makeup routine she’d once had as a senator. Coruscanti standards were far above par for her new home, and she didn’t feel the deep hunger to please everyone with her appearance anymore.

When she thought her hair to be sufficiently dry, she rejoined Fox in the kitchen just in time to see him setting their plates on crate that currently served as their table.

“Do you want juice?” She asked as she reached into the cabinets for two glasses.

“Water, please. I think if I drink anything with taste right now my stomach is going to turn itself inside out.” He said as he gingerly lowered himself to the floor beside the crate.

Riyo was beside him a moment later, setting the glass before him and running a hand through his half-dried hair before she took a seat on the ground opposite him. “You know, dear. I think we should buy some furniture. When the rainy season comes, we’re not going to be able to spend the whole day outside.”

“We could sit in the greenhouse.” Before Riyo could protest, Fox held up a hand. “I’m joking, Ri. There’s still holes in its roof. I agree. A couch, two chairs, and a table? Nothing fancy.”

“Nothing fancy, but something of good quality. You can enjoy the nice things in life with me, Fox. We’re not in danger of starving for a long time.” She’d been wise with her money as a senator, and now she was glad that she had put nearly all of her earnings away.

“I promise, Riyo, once I’m recovered, I’ll make a living for us.”

“We’ll make a living, Fox. We’ll do it together.”

He smiled fondly at her. “Together.”

“What are you thinking of doing?”

“Well, I fixed that speeder well enough. I figured I could do speeder repair, then from there learn how to fix other things. Get a small business going.”

“Could I go into business with you?”

“Do you want to?”

“My grandparents own a small farm on Pantora. My family were farmers for generations before my father became a senator. I grew up fixing farm equipment with my cousins.” She waited for Fox to finish his sip of water before continuing. “And for the record, I look really hot when I’m covered in grease.”

Fox coughed lightly, raising a hand to his mouth as he sat the glass of water down. “Then I suppose I’ll have to wash you off again.”

“I’d like that.” She winked at him.

They fell into silence. Having finish eating, Riyo sat sipping her glass of water and watching Fox try to stomach the small portion he had set aside for himself. His hand had fallen back from his mouth to his torso. Three months later, it still pained him. Three months later, she still had nightmares about it. Ones where Fox had died in her arms before the medics could arrive. Ones where the assassin didn’t miss. Once, one where Fox was never targeted and carried out his plan to kill the Emperor before being shot dead by a commander of the guard. Thire? Stone? Thorn? She hadn’t been able to tell. Maybe she had been the one holding the gun. She never told him about the nightmares. He must’ve known, sometimes she woke up to find herself bundled in his arms or pulled against his chest, but they’d never spoken about it. He had nightmares too. She could see it in his eyes when he woke, and in sleep she could feel his hands twitch as if around the trigger of a blaster. Sometimes she walked in on him holding the gauntlets of his phase II armor and a picture of four kama-wearing guardsmen sitting on the edge of a patrol transport as it flew over the city. She knew for a fact that one of his gauntlets had once been Stone’s, she had watched Fox repaint it to match his own armor, but she’d never had the courage to ask him who the other gauntlet came from. She didn’t have to. She already knew.

“Are you okay, Ri?”

She came back to the present to the sound of Fox’s voice. “Lost in thought. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. I can’t finish this.”

She nodded before standing up and making her way over to Fox, helping him to his feet. They walked to the front door together, Riyo stopping to put her shoes on while Fox took the remains of his food to the compost bin that sat against the side of the garage under the house. By the time he came back up, she had cleared the crate of her plate and their glasses.

“Are we missing anything?” She asked as he set his plate in the sink.

“Nothing we can’t live without for a few days.” The freezerbox and the cabinets were full, or full enough, to sustain them for weeks.

When Riyo stepped outside onto the porch, she took a moment to breathe in the air. Warm and wet. Alive. Everything Coruscant was not. She couldn’t compare it to Pantora either, whose chilly air and warm soils she had grown up in. For Fox, nothing in his life came close. Kamino, Geonosis, Coruscant. That was his scope of the galaxy. Dead planets with dead air. Here, the whole planet was covered in life.

“One of my batchmates would have loved it here.” Fox said as he stepped out of their home behind her. “Alien species were his specialty. He’d know the name and purpose of every lifeform on this planet in a week.”

“What happened to him?” Riyo asked as they descended down the staircase to the ground.

“He died on Kashyyyk at the end of the war.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s what we were made for. And we were never close.”

Riyo fell silent as they waited for the garage door to open. When it did, she pushed Fox to the passenger side and climbed in the driver’s seat. This was what she had wanted during their time on Coruscant; to drive around with Fox in the passenger seat like any other couple could. She waited until the door had closed once more and they were speeding through the trees before she spoke again. “Who were you close with? You never talk about your brothers.”

Fox sighed, sinking further into the seat and turning his gaze out towards the jungle. “Wolffe. And that ruled everyone else out.”

“I didn’t think he was that bad.” Riyo laughed.

“You met him for an hour. We lived with him for ten years. The only troopers who could stand him for extended periods of time were me and Thorn. We were a quite a trio. Sometimes Cody and his pet captain hung out with us, but we all knew we wouldn’t see each other much once the Jedi came for us. No sense in forming bonds like the regular troopers.”

“Was it Captain Rex?” By the look on Fox’s face, she knew it was. “I’ve met him. He came to Orto Plutonia with the Jedi.”

Fox’s look shifted into one resembling regret. “He’s dead too. He and Tano. Their Venator crashed. I know you two worked together before.”

“Yes, we did. She helped me lift the Trade Federation Blockade of Pantora. Which as you know, led to a bounty hunter being hired and ultimately, you.”

“Did you ever talk after she left the Order?”

“No, she just disappeared. I didn’t know she went back.”

“Cody was there. Cody told Bly, Bly told Wolffe, Wolffe told me.”

She grinned. “You gossipers.”

Fox laughed. “News travels fast between battalions. All we clones know is fight, gossip, and die.”

Riyo fought to keep her eyes on the road as she laughed. “Now you know fight, gossip, die, and cook breakfast. The foundations of the modern man.”

Fox went quiet for a few moments, and when he spoke again his tone was softer. “Riyo, if there’s something wrong with me and they can’t-.” He stopped, throwing his head back against the headrest as he fought to find the right words.

“There’s not.” She said firmly. “You’re fine. They just took you out of the bacta tank too early, that’s all. You’re going to be fine.”

[seremity-archive]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑲𝑰𝑹𝑩𝒀 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑬 𝑰𝑺 𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑺 !!

welcome to the kirby place, an apartment complex that is way more than just a place to live, it’s a community. our establishments count with many shops and restaurants on the ground floor as well as being in close range of a farmers market for every resident to enjoy and hang out in.

come join our growing family now, in the building that includes studios, 1 bedroom, 2 bedroom and 3 bedroom apartments. don’t forget to rejoice in our many events and parties that are thrown for everyone to have a chance to socialize and feel like they are the priority of the kirby place, never have a dull moment in our building.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 !

the kirby place is a chill and relaxed apartment 28+ discord verse based in chicago, heavily focused on character development and relationships of them with the other members. hopefully focused on the writing and moving your muse’s life forward. it will mostly be a plotless group to keep the growth of the characters as a priority but it will count with many small events to keep things moving and interesting !

𝑹𝑼𝑳𝑬𝑺 !

01. first and foremost, NO OOC DRAMA, we are all adults and are all friends here there is no need to air out your drama on the chat, if you do have a problem with someone or something happening please reach out to me in private and we can figure out a solution for the problem. but of course ic drama is always encouraged.

02. as said before this a 28+ group verse, which means all muses must be over the age of 28 ( muns must be over 18 since it will probably have mature themes ). now i usually go with the ± 5 years rule for a fc, but please keep in mind that someone under the age of 25 probably shouldn’t play a 28 year old character.

03. i plan to be more lenient with the activity, considering i’m striving for this to be a more writing based verse and i’m well aware how time consuming school and work can be, but i beg everyone to try to be the most active they can be !

04. please no bubble rping, i know this sounds weird saying on a small group but please please make sure you are reaching out, plotting and interacting with everyone in the group !!

05. each mun is allowed to play TWO characters !!

𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 !

( fc, gender, pronouns ) did you see NAME HERE at the coffee shop today ? you know, the AGE IN LETTERS that has been living at the apartments for NUMBER IN LETTERS years/months and is known to be +TRAIT and -TRAIT. the OCCUPATION seemed to be ordering their favourite cup of THEY GO-TO ORDER, that and THREE AESTHETIC always make me think of them. ( ooc name/alias, tmz, url )

𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑺 ! ( 7 / 12 muns )

( ana de armas, cis female, she/her ) did you see DIANA PEREZ at the coffee shop today ? you know, the THIRTY-ONE that has been living at the apartments for TWO years and is known to be KIND and OVERSENSITIVE. the KINDERGARTEN TEACHER seemed to be ordering their favourite cup of COLD BREW, that and CHOCOLATE DIPPED STRAWBERRIES, WARM JUMPERS FROM THE DRYER, BARE FEET ON A FIELD always make me think of them. ( jules, gmt -3, seremity )

( logan lerman, cis male, he/him ) did you see ANDREW WELLS at the coffee shop today ? you know, the THIRTY YEAR OLD that has been living at the apartments for FIVE years and is known to be HUMOROUS and CHILDISH. the WRITER seemed to be ordering their favourite cup of BLACK COFFEE, that and CRUMPLED PAPER SCATTERED ON THE FLOOR, THE FEELING OF BEING THE ONLY ONE AWAKE WHEN EVERYONE’S SLEEPING & PUTTING OTHER PEOPLE’S HAPPINESS IN FRONT OF YOUR OWN always make me think of them. ( ron, gmt -3, mythvlogie )

( priscilla quintana, cis female, she/her ) did you see ADRIANA CORTES at the coffee shop today ? you know, the THIRTY YEAR OLD that has been living at the apartments for TWO  years and is known to be +DEDICATED and -STUBBORN. the FITNESS COACH seemed to be ordering their favourite cup of UNSWEETENED PASSION TEA, that and  DANCING AROUND THE LIVING ROOM IN AN OVERSIZED T SHIRT, MORNING RUNS AT THE CRACK OF DAWN, & BLUEBERRY ALMOND MILK PANCAKES WITH AGAVE. always make me think of them. ( sunny, cst, videogcmes )

( max irons, cis male, he/him ) did you see JAMES LANGSTON at the coffee shop today ? you know, the THIRTY-TWO year old that has been living at the apartments for NINE years and is known to be +AMIABLE and -INSOUCIANT. the PAEDIATRIC SURGEON seemed to be ordering their favourite cup of DOUBLE SHOT ESPRESSO FRAPPUCCINO WITH WHIPPED CREAM ON TOP (PRETTY PLEASE), that and SAYING WHITE LIES TO MAKE THE SITUATION SOUND LESS DAMAGING THAN IT IS, “KEEP MOVING FORWARD,” AND MATCHING SCRUBS AND HIS WHITE COATS WITH HIS CROCS OF THE DAY always make me think of them. ( holly, gmt+8, frgilebones )

( dakota johnson, cis female, she/her ) did you see PARIS SARGENT at the coffee shop today ? you know, the TWENTY-NINE that has been living at the apartments for SIX years and is known to be +CAPTIVATING and -PESSIMISTIC. the THRIFT SHOP OWNER seemed to be ordering their favourite cup of CAFFE MOCHA, that and STANDING IN THE RAIN, SCREAMING INTO YOUR PILLOW & DOES THINGS OUT OF SPITE always make me think of them. ( barbie, est+1, sncflwers )

( penn badgley, cis male, he/him ) did you see EZRA CAMARCI at the coffee shop today ? you know, the THIRTY year old that has been living at the apartments for SIX months and is known to be LYRICAL and ALOOF. the DIRECTOR / SCREENWRITER seemed to be ordering their favourite cup of GINGERBREAD LATTE, that and SCRIBBLING CONSTRUCTIVE NOTES ACROSS SCRIPTS IN A DIMLIT COFFEE SHOP, LATE NIGHT WALKS ALONG A SCENIC PIER,  BEING A HOPELESS ROMANTIC AT HEART always make me think of them. ( han, est, stainedful )

( margot robbie, cis female, she / her ) did you see KEILA EADES at the coffee shop today ? you know, the THIRTY YEAR OLD that has been living at the apartments for EIGHT years and is known to be +VIVACIOUS and -CONCILIATORY. the NURSE seemed to be ordering their favourite cup of AN ICED VANILLA LATTE WITH COLD FOAM ON TOP, that and REMINDING EVERYONE TO PUT A COAT ON, SERVING BREAKFAST IN BED, and SAVING EVERYONE BUT THEMSELVES always make me think of them. ( leesh, pst, wearyhands )

[lovemesomesurveys]

[created by: --rainboweyes--]

oo1. Do you miss someone who you shouldn't right now? No.

oo2. Do you have any close friends that were adopted? I did in the past. 

oo3. What time did you get up today? Ugh, I dozed off around 5AM and woke up an hour later in horrible pain. I took my medicine and put on a heating pad and fell back asleep around 730. Then for some reason I woke up at 9:45 and wasn’t able to fall back asleep. I’ve felt like a zombie all day. I took like a 2 hour nap around 3, but naps just make me feel worse. Sigh. oo4. If you could have any job/talent, what? (regardless if can or not)? I wish I could sing. oo5. Who, in your opinion, is the best thriller writer? For the past couple years I’ve just been reading mystery and thriller books and I’ve really enjoyed them all. A lot of them are a series, which I love. Willow Rose, AJ Rivers, and Mary Stone are some of my favorite authors of those genres.

oo6. Does your Mum eat meat? Yes.

oo7. Was your Dad ever in a sports team? Yeah, he played baseball growing up and through high school.

oo8. Do you like apple and cinnamon crumble? Nah, I’d prefer a coffee cake crumble or just a cinnamon swirl crumble.

oo9. What's the most interesting thing you've learned today? I was surprised when I heard that some teachers are making their students, like elementary school age, watch the inauguration in its entirety and then write a paper about what they liked about it. I don’t know, I just thought that was kinda crazy. I definitely support talking about it and showing some short clips or something, but the whole thing at that age? Nah. That’s some heavy stuff to take in and try to understand at that age. Not to mention, one kid wrote they didn’t like it and found it boring and the teacher said that was unacceptable. Wow.

o1o. Do you prefer thick or thin crusted pizza? I like high rise dough or pan crust. I can’t do thin crust, there’s like nothing to it and that doesn’t work for me. I’m weird with how I eat pizza cause I only eat the top layer of it, so I need more dough to work with.

o11. Do you know anyone who is blind? No.

o12. Do you prefer monkeys or pigs? I don’t really have a preference. 

o13. Have you ever had an eerie/paranormal experience? What happened? No. 

o14. Do you own every DVD boxset of your favorite show? I have a few boxsets of I Love Lucy and one of The Dick Van Dyke Show.

o15. Actually, what is that favorite show? I like more than just one show - you can’t make me choose! <<< Me either!

o16. Do you have any friends with the same name as you? I don’t have any friends.

o17. How many people of the same name as you have you ever met? Several. Stephanie is a pretty common name. In elementary school there was a few of us in one class. 

o18. What day of the month were you born on? Has this number occurred a lot? The 28th of July. I’m not sure what you mean by if it’s occurred a lot?

o19. How often do you see your best friend? Everyday, all the time. We live together. 

o2o. Do you like cookie dough ice cream? Yeah. Wow, I have no idea the when I last had it, though. 

o21. Do you like incense or does it give you headaches? I like some. Patchouli is my favorite. 

o22. What sitcoms do you watch? I like older sitcoms like I Love Lucy, The Dick Van Dyke Show, Roseanne, The Golden Girls, Boy Meets World, Full House, Sister, Sister, Step by Step, Family Matters, Home Improvement, Everybody Loves Raymond, and King of Queens. Not too many newer ones, though. I find them super cringe. A newer one I do like though is The Middle.

o23. Do you find Tigers beautiful? Yes.

o24. I don't give up easily - is this you? It used to be me. Not these past few years, though. :/

o25. Do you prefer to watch or attempt? Depends on what it is of course.

o26. What do you wish your national flag looked like? I’ll keep it how it is.

o27. What time do you usually have a shower? I like to take them at night. 

o28. Do you believe that people can be psychics? No. 

o29. What is your most notable trait? That I’m awkward, probably. 

o3o. Are you proud of this trait, or ashamed? It’s not the worst.

o31. Do you like waterfalls? Looking at and listening to them is quite relaxing. I wouldn’t want to get near one, though.

o32. If you wrote a song about life right now, what'd it be called? “Blah.” Ha.

o33. If you wrote a novel about your whole life, what'd you call it? I have one in mind, but it’s a play on words of my last name and I don’t want to share that.

o34. Who has the prettiest middle name you know? *shrug*

o35. So, what's your name? Stephanie.

o36. What'd be your name if you took your Mum's middle name? I’m not sharing that.

o37. Would you rather be a farmer or engineer? I wouldn’t be cut out for either one.

o38. A psychologist or a football coach? The plan was to be a psychologist, or pursue something in the psychology field, but...

o39. Do you shout when you're upset? No.

o4o. What color is your favorite vegetable? Green.

o41. Do you get more eye pain or back pain? I have chronic back pain. 

o42. When was your last hug? Earlier.

o43. Describe your house to me: 2-bedroom duplex.

o44. Why did you chose to wear what you're wearing today? I always wear leggings and I was cold earlier so I grabbed my Mandalorian sweatshirt. 

o45. Do you like banana milkshake? Yesss. Those are the best.

o46. What do you have in your fruit salads? I don’t eat fruit salads. 

o47. Do you have a calendar in your bedroom? What is on it? I have two old Alexander Skarsgard ones. I don’t have a new one for this year.

o48. What color is the sink in your bathroom? White.

o49. Are you hungry right now? No, I had Wingstop for dinner.

o5o. Where was the last place you ate, except from home? Various places at Disneyland last February. I haven’t gone out to eat ever since the pandemic and quarantine happened. I get a lot of takeout, though.

o51. What was your favorite thing to do as a kid? I loved playing Barbies, playing house, playing school, hang out with my cousins, watch TV, and even play outside.

o52. Do you take any vitamins? Which ones? No, but I should be.

o53. Do you get embarrassed easily? Yes.

o54. Do you prefer Lion Bars or Toffee Krisps? I don’t know what either of those are, but I do know I like toffee so perhaps I’d like Toffee Krisps. 

o55. What do you feel guilty about right now? There’s a lot. :/

o56. Have you ever lost something really precious to someone else? No, thankfully.

o57. When was the last time you wore makeup? Almost 4 years ago.

o58. Do you live North, East, South or West? West.

o59. Is the TV on in the room you're in? What's on? Yeah, The King of Queens.

o6o. Describe your city/town to me: It’s shitty.

o61. Are you a fan of Kings of Leon? Yeah.

o62. What do you think of the Lion King? I like it.

o63. Who makes you feel small/inferior? No one in my life currently makes me feel that way. I just... do.

o64. Are you protective of your family? Yes.

o65. Do you make friends easily, or do you keep to yourself? Well, for the past few years I’ve been keeping to myself and not seeking to make friends.

o66. What's your best friends starsign? Whatever the beginning of September is.

o67. Do you have a little sister/brother? I have a younger brother.

o68. Do you download films/tv shows? No.

o69. What size ring are you? I think a 7.

o7o. Do you like flip flops or do you find them annoying? I don’t wear flip flops, sandals, or any open-toed shoe.

[enbycalicocat]

Day 10: 5th of February, 2021

.

At the tender age of almost twenty-six, Ellie already felt as burned out as if she were in fact sixty. She wasn’t even working a ‘proper and serious’ job, as her dad liked to say. Apparently manning a store was not an adult enough job for him. In fact, none of her jobs had been adult enough. Once, Ellie had worked at a book store, which he didn't like either of course. The manager there was about thirty-something, older than Ellie by at least ten years. Or that’s what Ellie thought. And the woman was dedicated to that store. She put her everything into her job. Ellie wondered how she would feel if she heard Ellie’s dad saying her job wasn’t ‘grown-up’ enough.

 Probably about as invalidated as Ellie felt.

 On top of the ‘kid’ job, Ellie hadn’t graduated from university yet. That one was an ongoing issue with her parents, a very serious one. More than her choice of work. They said her only job was studying (uh, hello? It’s not? She also had a full-time job to attend?) and that they could not consent what she was doing with her academic life (as if she needed their ‘consent’ to take longer to graduate).

The thing was, Ellie wasn't doing it on purpose or anything. She really put a lot of effort into her classes. And she really wanted to graduate, for no better reason than making them happy and get them to stop stressing her with their beliefs of when she should’ve graduated (which wasn't very healthy, Ellie was aware). But she just couldn't. For some reason, university was unbearably exhausting for her. It was something that made her tired to the very marrow of her bones. She hated it, with passion and fierceness. Hated it like nothing in the world.

 After nearly six or seven years attending university (she changed degrees after the first two years and had to start again from zero in the new degree), the girl had come to a conclusion. University and her just did not get along well. Mind you, not studying and her. Not learning and her. No. University and her. There was a difference. Ellie liked learning. And she didn’t mind studying. Her problem was university. She didn’t like the courses, didn’t like how they were taught, didn't like the grading system.

Why was she studying then? Because in this country you went nowhere without a university degree. That’s why.

 Ellie wanted to go nowhere. But her parents wouldn’t let her.

 And hence, the burned out feeling mentioned before.

 When life felt particularly crushing, Ellie liked playing simulation games. Specifically, farm simulation games. And that was what the girl was doing currently. The little guy on the screen moved according to the commands from the joystick, the arrows, and the buttons under her fingers, as she made him check to see how tomorrow’s weather would be and if she would have luck today.

 I wish I was somebody else.

 The guy on screen watered his little patches of crops. The watering can soon needed to be upgraded soon.

 Really? Somebody else? With a whole other personality?

 Ah, these crops were ready to be picked up, that meant money would be coming in today.

 Hmmm. Now that I think about it, no. I don’t want to be someone else. I want to be me. I like me. And my personality. I just don’t like my life. So let me rephrase that. I want to have a different life.

 And… Done! All the crops were watered and she had picked up everything that matured. Now, off to sell the results of her hard work.

 Another life? What kind of life would you want? What would change? Your major at university? Like you haven’t tried that already.

 Ellie ignored her very own voice berating herself as she separated the vegetables. The normal and silver ones would go to the shipping box by the house. The golden and purple ones would be sold at the local produce store. Because the girl cared about her reputation in town and didn’t want the neighbors saying the stuff she grew tasted horrible.

 No, I wouldn’t change majors. That would make no difference.

 The girl rolled her eyes at the screen in front of her, as if the tiny hardworking guy from the game or the television set could somehow be made responsible for annoying herself.

 Well, what then? What kind of life would you want?

 Finally at the supermarket, the guy walked over to the cash register and began to sell the crops. What kind of life did I want? She had not the slightest idea. Yet, as she watched the guy standing by the counter, pausing in the middle of counting, an idea occurred to her.

 Well, first of all, I would’ve fought harder to give voice to the crippling gender dysphoria I felt when I was younger. I don't know that we would've been able to afford a sex change. Or that my country even allowed that back then. But if I had at least fought to have that very present male 'side' of me acknowledged, I would now be happily living as an androgynous being. Because I didn't, at present time I'm just a girl trying to hide her biological gender characteristics. If hormone therapy was in fact an option back then, and I had started it early enough, I wouldn’t have these annoying piece of crap breasts that do nothing but hurt and bring me trouble.

 Continuing to sell the produce she'd harvested, Ellie imagined she'd look just like my character on screen. Slightly masculine, but also slightly femenine. Keeping people guessing as to which category to put her under. She could already picture this new life in her mind.

The day she... no, they, told their parents about how they sometimes feel very male. How sometimes the female gender biological characteristics feel weird, odd, off, like something was missing. Then going to school.

School...

How would school be? The bullying probably would've been the same. But they would feel happier about themselves, about their body, about the way they looked and dressed. They probably would've developed a whole different set of mental issues and gone to the psychologist no matter what. But Ellie wanted to believe that it would've all been better than what her school and younger years where actually like.

 Oh, that’s a good start. And then? What else would be different?

 Focusing back on the game, she finished with selling, and started buying the new seeds to replant the crops that had been sold. I also needed to buy fertilizer because the one I’d used had disappeared as soon as I picked up the crops. If my production rate continued like this, I would be able to buy the next bag and have more inventory space. And after that, I could expand my crop patches. More crops planted, more veggies to sell, more money coming in, and more money meant upgrades could happen faster.

Noticing all the planning and business decisions going on in her head, another idea came.

 I would refuse university from the very beginning.

 The guy on screen, the pixel Ellie, walked back to his farm with his seeds and his fertilizer, significantly poorer, for now.

 No studying? How would you make a living then?

 When the guy was home again, she got to work immediately, fertilizing, planting, and watering. They had other things to do that day.

 I would make a living by…

 At first, she’d thought about being a farmer, like the pixel Ellie. But in this country, farming meant working for the corrupt government, because all the new plots of land belonged to them. And there was no way, that was happening. Also, here having a farm meant no electricity, no running water, no wifi, no signal, no modern stuff. So, as much as she liked farming in game life, that wouldn’t work in real life.

 Ah, pixel Ellie was running out of energy and they had no food in the backpack. So, they ran inside to quickly cook something in the house’s kitchen. Real life Ellie would love to make different dishes, there were some dishes that sounded really good. But this game was about how much energy you got from food. Hence, the importance wasn’t on the dishes name, or its ingredients, it was on how much it refilled the bar on the bottom right corner of the screen.

 That’s when another idea came to her.

 How about cooking? I could go to vocational school and study to be a chef. I really like cooking. Though, more than cooking, I think I would love to be a baker. I like making cakes, and cookies, and that kind of stuff. I mean, I don’t mind cooking, and I put heart into what I make. But I only have real honest fun baking.

 So, instead of doing it as a hobby like you do right now, you would do it to earn a living? Remember the last time you tried to make a living out of one of your hobbies?

 Writing.

 That had been the worst mistake of her life. It got the poor girl into the biggest writing slump she'd ever experienced. All because Ellie had tried to make a living just as a writer and the pressure ate her alive. Until she developed anxiety so bad that Ellie just could not write without feeling like she would have a panic attack at any second.

 Yeah, not so good an idea then.

 She got the little pixel guy moving again. Everything farm related was done now. Let’s go fish and earn some money for that backpack.

 For a while, the girl just played. Eyes glued to the screen. Thinking about nothing but her utter failure to be a human being. What did I want to do in freaking life? How was I supposed to make a living when I wanted to do nothing? How was I supposed to be a functional part of society when everything seems like an unbearable pressure and everything makes me have panic attacks? I would adore to take the pressure out of things. Maybe then I would enjoy them. Maybe then I would be able to have a stable job and a stable income and be a ‘grown-up’.

 How about you stop trying to find ways to make a living out of the things you love? We have proven time and time again, that doing that will just make you end up hating them.

 Sighing, tired and frustrated and angry with herself, Ellie threw herself back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

 I don’t want to be a fudging billionaire. I don’t want to have some big-shot job. I don’t want to be a lawyer, or a doctor, or an engineer, or any of that crap. I’m happy with my stupid kitchen store job. They pay me more than a big percentage of the people in this country. Never mind if we compared it to what the people without a college degree earned. Even if I graduated there was no guarantee that I would get a better paying job, proved by the millions earning minimum wage out there. in any other country my job would be enough to pay for rent, food, and some luxury expenses. And I have enough free time to write as much as I want, because I don’t bring work home. So, tell me what the hell is wrong with just quitting university, dedicating myself to the store, maybe wind up as a personal secretary or manger later on, and write in my free time?

 For once, there was silence in Ellie's head.

 Indeed. What is wrong with doing that?

 She sat up on the bed, looking around as her mind whirled.

That would take the pressure off writing. And I could literally just do it for fun. And my income wouldn’t depend on whether I write or not.

 The heart in her chest was beating wildly. Excited. Happy.

 I can't make enough to be independent with my current job. But to be honest very few jobs in this country would pay me enough. I would have to earn a couple hundred bucks a month, and short of becoming an escort I didn't know what would make me that amount of money. So, I could move out of this country. Go live with my family overseas and do the same simple things I did here. I could be a part of society. I could make a living. And not depend on my parents.

 And, you could also open up a ko-fi or patreon page, have people donate if they want. If they feel like it. That way no pressure is added to you as the author, or to your readers, and you could have some extra income.

 She could picture it already. How happy her life would be.

 And then Ellie remembered her parents. The fact that she didn't have a passport and obtaining one cost around a thousand bucks. The fact that she had no belongings to sell to pay for the plan tickets. Her cowardice. Her nervousness. Her anxiety.

 All at once her body felt completely exhausted. The energy seemed to have been sucked out of the girl and she let herself fall onto the bed, staring at the wall.

 No hollywood dreams. No millions of dollars. No sports cars. No. The only thing I wanted was to be happier with my body, to quit university, to have a peaceful job, and write. That was the life I wanted. The life I couldn’t have.

 So simple. And yet so far from reach.

 A tear rolled down the corner of Ellie's eye, it traversed the bridge of her nose, continued down the underside of the other eye, and finally found the mattress. More and more tears followed its path.

.

.

Prompt: 10. Write the autobiography of the life you weren’t brave enough to lead.

.

Previous Day Next Day

[dragonatthedinnertable]

Today I watched "Hobitit", the Finnish TV adaptation of the Lord of the Rings. 9 25-min episodes. It's nod bad (although not good, either). I have a lot of thoughts about this. I'm gonna break them up by episode (roughly).

Episode 1: Bilbo. This one is just old!Samwise talking to some Hobbit children about the War of the Ring and Bilbo's riddle game with Gollum. When a kid asks "What about Frodo?", he very dramatically says "His time will come soon..." and stalks outside.

Episode 2: The Road.

Hobbiton looks really dark & grim (and the model shot hass like 5 houses).

Bag End doesn't look fancy. It looks like the same 5 boxy houses as the rest.

Gandalf's moustache is glorious.

Samwise has a bad 80's mullet going on. I can't take him seriously.

Using the Ring makes the wearer disappear in a puff of smoke.

The Black Riders are really cool. They're rotoscoped, translucent, and animated at a lower frame-rate. They look really otherworldly.

Episode 3: The Old Forest.

I think this is the first adaptation that uses ol' Tom Bombadil?

Lots of green lighting in the forest. I'm 99% sure that they never actually put the actors in front of anything but a blue-screen when they're outside.

We get our first special effect. It's seriously worse than half of what I see on old Doctor Who...

They include the bit where a barrow-wight captures the Hobbits, but we don't see the wight, and barely see the barrow, so if you don't know the book this scene makes no sense.

There's a side bit where Gandalf gives his message to Butterbur, and then goes to see Saruman. There's someone else at Isengard, who I'd guess would be Wormtongue, but since we never see either of these again it doesn't matter.

Episode 4: The Prancing Pony.

They get a really cool background music for The Cat and the Fiddle song. I don't think it's Frodo's actor singing, though.

The Hobbits seem exactly the same height as everyone else.

Strider is good as a Ranger, but throughout I really don't buy him as a royal heir.

Episode 5: Strider

Weathertop is basically a small pile of stones.

There's a shot of the crebain with NO significance whatsoever.

The fight with the Black Riders is really vague. The Fellowship is crouching in the forest, waving torches. Frodo puts on the ring with like no prompting, and then there's splashing and he wakes up in a white room.

That white room (completely featureless) is Rivendell, apparently. They use his bed as the table.

For some reason, Boromir has a weird kind of punk-rock samurai vibe? He's got a rice farmer hat on his back.

Gimli has the shortest beard I've ever seen on a dwarf. Like, it's 3 months of growth, at most???

Ancient-looking Bilbo comes in, offering to take the Ring to Mordor. Everyone's like, "Now, now, Bilbo..."

Episode 6: Lorien

With a bit of narration, we skip through Hollin and right to the fight with the orcs in Moria.

We don't see the Balrog at all, just Gandalf swirling down a fiery-red drain hole???

Lorien has nothing but Galadriel in a lake, which is the Mirror.

This is the point I realised that Legolas hasnt' said a word the entire time. He doesn't.

They do the whole breaking of the Fellowship here too. The orcs' arrows are weirdly twiggy.

Boromir has a frikkin' KATANA! Like, what???

This is the last time we see Aragorn, Legolas & Gimli.

Episode 7: Mordor

Mount Doom is visible as a cinder-cone spouting flame like an oil refinery.

Sam & Frodo cross the Emyn Muil. There's a whole bit with the Elvish rope, which is weird because there was definitely no gift-giving scene in Lorien.

Gollum is very stutter-weepy.

Old!Sam covers the entirety of the Treebeard thing & the sack of Isengard in 2 minutes of narration. Rohan isn't mentioned at all.

The Eye of Sauron is literally an eye. A human eye. Blue-screened onto the sky. The iris is different colours sometimes.

Episode 8: Mount Doom

The Black Gate is really, really small.

The entrance to Shelob's Cave looks just like I expected the Sammath Naur to look, which was confusing.

We don't see Shelob at all. There's no build-up, no Gollum talking about "Her!". We just see Frodo falling as if stung, and Gollum yelling "The Shelob got him!" That's it. The orcs certainly talk about her as if she's there. I was hoping for at least a really bad model or overlay effect, but given the lack of a Balrog I shouldn't be surprised.

Episode 9: Liberation

The Ring literally weighs Sam down when he puts the chain on. Same when Frodo puts it back on.

When we see Mount Doom, it looks like a really-low shot of a steep columnar peak.

Next time we see it, Frodo is strangely half-way up.

Then we see Gollum & Frodo at the top, and it's just a really short, squat cinder cone.

When Gollum falls in, it looks exactly the same as Khazad-dûm, except that the Eye is there. And there's the same effect where Gollum looks like he's going down a plug-hole.

After Mount Doom explodes, Sam & Frodo wake up in the same featureless room of Rivendell. Apparently it's Minas Tirith. We never see another part of the city at all.

Surprisingly, we actually see the Scouring of the Shire. Or at least part of it. After Merry threatens his way into the guard house at the Brandywine Bridge, there's just Hobbits running around with farming tools.

I think we see Saruman coming out of Bag End? It's hard to tell, because he's only in shot for a few seconds, and also the same size as the Hobbits (just like everyone else is).

After old!Sam finishes his story, he walks in the same direction as Frodo left in. There's no harbour, but he walks dramatically along the Straight Road.

None of the actors can emote very well. This, along with the blue-screening of all outdoor shots, makes the whole thing feel very flat. It purports to just tell the bits of the story that the Hobbits see, but that seems to translate only to Sam. It's weird not seeing anything of Treebeard, or Rohan, or Minas Tirith.

That said, the writers know the lore of the world really well. Old!Samwise namedrops Gil-Galad, they use all the names of Rauros, that kind of thing. There's nicely poignant bits thrown in there. Boromir delivers his "give me the Ring, Frodo" speech as flat as anything, but when they close-up on his face, his eyes are swimming in tears.

Overall, I give it a solid 5/10.

[thankskenpenders]

So there’s this little cartoon you may have heard of...

As I’ve said on this blog before, I’d never watched all of SatAM. This might be shocking to hear from someone who runs a blog dedicated to Archie Sonic and one of the top twenty Bunnie Rabbot fangirls in the world. But it’s true.

SatAM was very difficult to track down compared to other Sonic cartoons when I was a kid, and I just never got around to watching it as an adult. So for the longest time, I had only ever seen the first episode, which I found uploaded in parts on YouTube in 2007. As the one cartoon featuring the characters I liked from the comics, it became sort of this holy grail of Sonic media for me as a kid, especially with people online always talking it up as the best thing ever and petitioning for a revival. Hell, to this day, a lot of people hold it up as this masterpiece and act like the Archie comics were a complete mockery of it

Anyway so I finally got around to watching the whole series with my boyfriend these past couple weeks, and it was pretty good. So instead of covering a comic today, here are some thoughts on the cartoon that started it all

General Thoughts

SatAM is a pretty good show. It isn’t the greatest piece of Sonic media ever, unlike what some older fans will tell you. It might not even be the best Sonic cartoon (you could easily make a case for the Japanese version of Sonic X, or Sonic Boom if you’re looking for something more comedic). It hasn’t aged the most gracefully, in some ways. The animation’s cheap, the stories sometimes bland. But for a DiC-produced video game cartoon from the early ‘90s, it’s really solid

I think that in many ways, SatAM is carried by the strength of its ideas over its actual execution. The darker, more serious tone is a really cool idea, even if at times it can get a little dull, and even if the show actually gets silly as hell pretty often. (This is a show where Snively literally tortures a captive Antoine by preparing French cuisine improperly.) That opening scene of Robotropolis in the first episode actually sets the mood really well and feels like it came straight out of some cyberpunk anime from the ‘80s or ‘90s. The concept of Robotnik turning people into robot slaves is really cool, even if surprisingly little was done with this aside from Uncle Chuck’s storyline. And I think the Freedom Fighters make a great supporting cast for Sonic, even if the writers didn’t use them to their full potential

Interestingly, I’d often heard from fans that season one was the stronger of the two, when I’d say that the opposite is true. Season one episodes were pretty samey, usually involving low stakes missions to Robotropolis with no real continuity, and Sally ended up being a damsel in distress more than I’d like--hell, so did Bunnie in a few episodes. It wasn’t bad, but it was highly repetitive, and I got a little bored at times. Season two had a few real stinkers (the Antoine episodes) and Dulcy was an unwelcome addition, but I thought the heavier focus on continuity gave the season some real momentum and more emotional weight, which made it way more enjoyable overall

Things I Liked

Sonic. I quite liked this version of Sonic, actually! Jaleel White is a great Sonic, and he was written pretty well. At times the extremely tubular ‘90s lingo was grating (I never wanna hear “Gotta juice!” again), but I was surprised to see that this version of Sonic had a lot of heart. He really cared about the well-being of his friends and Uncle Chuck, and they even let him cry a couple times. I thought they struck a good balance between snark and sincerity with him

Sally. I don’t think SatAM Sally was perfect, but I liked her. I’m still of the opinion that she should have been given more ways to defend herself physically (maybe some kind of power of her own) so that Sonic didn’t have to save her as much, but I liked the banter she and Sonic had. Unlike the early Archie comics, Sally doesn’t come off as the bossy girlfriend who ruins Sonic’s fun. Maybe it’s Jaleel White and Kath Soucie’s performances doing most of the work, but they had a fun back and forth dynamic, with Sally’s sarcasm keeping Sonic’s ego in check, but there still being clear chemistry between the two of them

I also liked the greatly reduced emphasis on her being a princess compared to much of Archie’s material. Like yeah, it’s there. Her dad’s the king, and left her some classified info via Nicole. But her status doesn’t really affect things much. They don’t talk about her having this grand destiny and being the next in line to rule. It’s clear that she’s in charge of the Freedom Fighters not because of her status, but because she’s smart, brave, and gets shit done. That’s the Sally I like.

Plus! In the finale, Sally insisted upon going with Sonic for the final confrontation, and was a crucial part of the climax. Her powering up with Sonic and matching his speed and strength ruled. Compare that to the climactic defeat of Robotnik in Archie, where she was fucking dead

Robotnik. I don’t think much needs to be said here. Jim Cummings rules as Robotnik, like everyone has always said. He’s just so evil and so much fun to watch

Snively??? I’ve never cared for Snively as a character, but Charlie Adler rules and his over-the-top performance made the character way funnier than he should’ve been. Just something about all the little noises he makes, and the way he almost shifts into the Red Guy voice at times

Nicole. It was fun to see Nicole start to get more of a personality in season two, having some banter with Sonic and also picking up some slang from him. It makes the later decision to turn Sally’s computer into a full character (which would have happened in season three, and obviously eventually became a big subplot in the comics) make a lot of sense

King Acorn. While he was only around briefly, I liked that he wasn’t a huge dick, unlike Archie’s King Max

Things I Didn’t Like

The misuse of the other Freedom Fighters. This is, by far, the show’s greatest crime.

I already write approximately 100k words a week on this blog about how I think Bunnie Rabbot is amazing and criminally underused, so I’ll keep this brief, but I was shocked to see how little she was used in this show. People tend to say Dulcy stole her screentime in season two, but she didn’t have much to do in the first season either! We somehow never got a single episode focusing on her. The one where she got temporarily deroboticized focused much more on Uncle Chuck. We never got to learn the story behind her roboticization, or delved into her feelings on the matter much. She mostly just served as a positive, lighthearted supporting member of the team who acts cute and gets some funny lines, but usually stays home

Antoine might have been even worse, honestly. Like, they used him so much! They had multiple episodes focusing entirely on him! And yet I’m not sure he ever really helped. Sonic and Sally kept taking him along, but every single time it felt like it would’ve been a wiser decision to bring Bunnie instead. The jokes about his broken English were just dumb, and god, the way he constantly hits on Sally and starts kissing her hand at the most inappropriate times is just SO fucking creepy. SatAM Antoine is just a horrible, one-dimensional stereotype. There’s a reason why readers of the Archie comics wanted him out of the series until later writers majorly rehabilitated him

Rotor also didn’t get much use, which was a shame, but it at least felt like he was used efficiently. I got the vibe that Rotor was much more bitter about the war with Robotnik than his friends, and it would’ve been interesting to see this explored more. At least we got that one fun episode where he went to space with Sonic

Dulcy. Oh my fucking god. I wanted to like Dulcy! I really did! But most of the time she was just a clutz used for comic relief, and they kept reusing the same joke where she crashed, bumped her head, got dizzy, and thought she was talking to her mom. This happened in almost every episode she was in.

The other miscellaneous Freedom Fighters. Like in the early Archie comics, none of the other miscellaneous Mobians they meet were as interesting as the core cast. They just always felt very bland and I was never as invested in them as the writers wanted me to be. Ari was boring, and that episode where they found the underground city and this other dude started hitting on Sally was a drag. Lupe’s cute though

Rings. This is a common problem in Sonic adaptations, but the fact that rings always serve as Sonic’s instant win button kind of sucks. Basically any time Sonic’s in a pinch, he pulls a ring out of his backpack, powers up, and wins. Not exactly a recipe for suspenseful action

Oh, also, I did kinda find it weird how much Sonic and Sally kissed? Like, all the time? Often while their friends just stand there and stare at them? Not something I’d expect from a Sonic cartoon

Things Archie Did Better

I’ll limit this to the first 50 issues or so, since I don’t think it would be fair to compare two short seasons of SatAM to the highlights of nearly 500 issues of comics

Tails. Tails is okay in SatAM, Archie just used him as Sonic’s sidekick way more. He was barely even in the show. Poor little guy only gets to play dirt hockey all day

Bunnie. Again, Bunnie was underutilized in both series, but the Archie comics did her better. They actually showed the story of how she got roboticized (even if it was a silly story), and they got to flesh her out a bit more. Gallagher showing that she was a carrot farmer before her roboticization and saying she wanted to be a hairdresser was at least something. And as I keep harping on, Rich Koslowski’s backup story in #37 where we find out Bunnie has recurring nightmares about her robot parts taking over and making her a threat to her friends? This single backup story did more to flesh her out than all 26 episodes of SatAM combined

Antoine. Not hard to do better than SatAM here, really. He was really bad early on, serving as little more than Sonic’s punching bag, but eventually they started to set up a romance between him and Bunnie and explored his past a bit, saying that Antoine’s father (his personal role model) was a member of the royal guard who was roboticized in the war. While he still had a long way to go, these were important first steps towards him being a decent character. Hell, these days, being Bunnie’s love interest is one of Antoine’s defining characteristics! And it doesn’t come from the cartoon at all

Roboticization in general. I was surprised how little this came up in the cartoon! In the comics, it’s such a central element. We see more of the heroes’ loved ones turned into robots, and we even got some fun stories where characters like Sonic and Sally were roboticized temporarily. The Freedom Fighters’ efforts to reverse the process was a major part of the plot for quite a while. Bunnie’s fear of losing control is a pretty important part of her character (even if it was only touched on briefly), and after they’re rescued, the rest of the Mobians fear that the “Robians” (including Sonic’s entire family) will turn evil again. It comes up a lot! There are interesting things to discuss here! But SatAM only really talks about Uncle Chuck. We never even see what happened to everyone else

Closing Thoughts

SatAM is not the best show in the world, but it is a solid and enjoyable one. It’s easy to see why people who grew up with it are fond of it, even if I think that it’s long past time certain fans quit acting like it’s the only valid take on the Sonic source material and petitioning for a third season. At the very least, the concepts and characters introduced here are strong ones, and it’s easy to see how they spawned over 20 years of comics exploring said ideas in greater detail. While I’m not sure I could recommend it to non-fans, I think it’s definitely worth checking out for Sonic fans who missed out on it (especially fans of the Archie comics)

Anyway I got to see Bunnie dropkick some Swatbots twice her height so I had fun

[guardgomabroa]

Answer 17 questions and tag 17 people you want to get to know better

I was tagged by @mariocki

Nickname: Closest I’ve got is “Dungeon Master”

Zodiac: Taurus

Height: Somewhere between 5′5′‘ and 5′6′‘ I think

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuffs represent!

Last thing I Googled: Avatar: the Last Airbender (checking what year it first aired)

Favorite musicians: Weird Al’s probably the single artist I’m most a fan of, but my tastes are all over the place, I don’t really play favorites and I’m more likely to like one or two songs by an artist than their entire portfolio. I like Jonathan Coulton, Flight of the Conchords, Stan Bush, Ron Wasserman, MC Skat Cat and too way many others to list.

Song stuck in my head: Why Should I Worry - Billy Joel

Following: 254

Followers: 558 (at least, according to tumblr. Probably like 4/5ths of that are pornbots)

Amount of sleep I get: 6-7.5 hours on school days, 8-9 hours on off days

Lucky number: Never had one, unfortunately. Seems like a fun thing to have.

Dream job: Tenured English Professor with a single-author-focus class about Terry Pratchett

Wearing: Pajamas, cause today was a lazy day

Favorite songs: Might as well ask me what my favorite organ is. If I had to throw something out I’d say that the song that got me rocking the hardest during my last commute was Eye to Eye from A Goofy Movie

Instruments: In theory I used to play percussion back in highschool but I never practiced and only ever really got to play the bass drum during performances. I’m much more of a vocalist than an instrumentalist

Facts:

- I consider myself a writer, which is to say, I have half a dozen potential, half-started projects that might eventually see the light of day at some point in the future. Maybe.

- The word “favorite” in the previous questions in this quiz were originally spelled “favourite” but I changed them because I’m American and petty.

- People always said I’d get more conservative as I got older, but I just keep getting more radically progressive and liberal. I also identify more and more with Dennis from Monty Python’s Search for the Holy Grail. Oh, to be a muck farmer living in an anarcho-syndicalist commune...

Aesthetics: Shelves upon shelves of books (mostly YA novels), cute animals being dumb, glowing screens in dark rooms, rainy windows and gray clouds, glittering piles of dice, notebooks full of doodles and dumb ideas, alien landscapes with spiraling horizons and glowing mushrooms

Tagging: @apocalyptic-dusk @noone-ofconsequence @spirit-swordsman @arrestingknave @sleepyspoonie @yaldobaoth @frosidon @fuuthedarkoverlord which is like, barely even half of how many I’m supposed to tag but I don’t feel comfortable tagging anyone else

[authorpocketcow]

Pooh Characters as Queer Environmentalists

No seriously.  I had a very vivid dream involving all the Winnie The Pooh characters as a group of enthusiastic (and queer) environmentalists who meet once a week to talk about environment things because they’re nerds.

Starring Christopher Robin, Pooh, Tigger, Rabbit, Kanga, Roo, Gopher, Eeyore, and Piglet.

·       Christopher Robin

o   33 years old

o   Head/leader/founder of the Environmentalist Group

o   Really interested in saving the whales

o   Chill dude, but kind of an airhead

o   Everyone thinks he’s some kinda office worker

o   One day someone accidentally found out that he’s the CEO of some green-planet organization and runs this group for fun to see what kinds of ideas he can get and to see what people think of environmentalist efforts

o   He always credits people for their ideas, but people assumed that he just worked for the company, not that he ran the damned thing

o   A pansexual icon

o   Has been to every single pride event that their city has ever had

o   Rumour has it he started the pride events

o   Wilder rumour has it he threw the first stone at the Stonewall Riots

o   Even wilder rumour has it that he’s an immortal vampire who survives on the blood of homophobes

o   He won’t deny any of these rumours but has yet to confirm it

o   Has a genderqueer partner that literally nobody has met

o   Seriously, not even Pooh

·       Pooh

o   29 years old

o   Really wants to save the bees

o   Like, REALLY wants to save the bees

o   Vegetarian, but because he doesn’t like meat

o   Massive sweet tooth; dentists hate him!

o   Ace/Aro

o   Loves children, wants to adopt his own someday

o   Babysits Roo all the time

o   Kanga and him are best friends

o   He brings little sweets for Roo every meeting

o   Perhaps a little bit of a pothead but he’s not addicted

o   He just smokes a joint once in a while to chill out

o   A stereotypical “make love not war” hippie

o   Nice to everyone all the time

o   Cries when someone is mean to him

o   Gets uncomfortable when people hit on him

o   Christopher’s little brother

o   A visual artist; uses lots of colours and sells his art at galleries and markets

·       Tigger

o   27 years old

o   ADHD

o   Like SUPER ADHD

o   Gay

o   Hit on Pooh once but when Pooh got uncomfy he backed off

o   Thought maybe Pooh was uncomfortable with gays and was confused and sad

o   When he found out Pooh was Ace/Aro he totally understood

o   They’re good friends now

o   Really wants to save rainforests and trees

o   A freelance writer; his books are elementary school Magic Treehouse shit

o   Very much into fantasy shit, his non-children’s series’ lore is always the deepest mindfuck ever, how the hell did he even come up with that

o   Bestselling author tho

o   Kinda famous tbh but he doesn’t like media attention

o   He just thinks everybody should have fun all the time

o   Does he vape? Probably.  Has anyone ever actually seen him do it?  No.

o   Does he sleep? Probably.  Has anyone ever actually seen him do it?  Once.

o   Kanga caught him powernapping when she came into one of the first meetings really early, but all she did was put a blanket on him and leave to go to the convenience store or something to stay out for a bit longer so he could rest

o   He didn’t know who it was until a bit later he figures it was her since she’s always knitting and it was a very pretty knitted thing

o   That’s his momma figure now

·       Rabbit

o   25 years old

o   Vegan and very in-your-face about it

o   “Bugs are important to the ecosystem but boy do I hate them in my garden”

o   Scifi enthusiast

o   Post-apocalyptic things slightly terrify him because he believes that’s how the world is gonna go

o   A bit of a conspiracy theorist

o   Genuinely believes the government is vaguely spying on everybody

o   Did Bush do 9/11?  Who knows… but the moon landing was real, and the earth is round, don’t be dumb

o   Just identifies as queer, doesn’t like labels

o   A very organized person but when he’s very upset perfectionism scares him bc he thinks he’s not ever gonna be good enough and will mess things up on purpose

o   Has a long-distance boyfriend

o   A farmer

·       Kanga

o   38 years old

o   Divorced trans woman

o   Has a 5 year old son that she fostered as a baby and adopted when he was 4

o   Recycles aggressively

o   Calls everyone “dear”

o   Uses reusable bags and plastic containers all the time

o   Knits a lot, everybody always gets scarves or mitts or hats for Christmas

o   Usually in the design of ‘planet earth’, but also makes pride flag designs and takes requests for fave colour schemes

o   Vegetarian but not aggressive ab it like Rabbit is

o   You know what she is a bit aggressive about? Recycling

o   If you throw something that’s recyclable in the garbage in front of her...

o   Lord help you

o   Last man who did that was never seen again

o   Okay that’s a lie, he was seen two weeks later

o   But he was advocating for a save the whales organization on the side of the road and wearing all thrift store clothing

o   She traumatized him into throwing himself into the environmentalist pit headfirst

o   Thinks Gopher is just a big softie; is the only one who is super nice to him all the time (besides her son, and Pooh who is nice to literally everyone)

o   Kinda has a thing for the grumpy man but won’t admit it

o   She’s like an accountant or something, nobody knows what she does for a living but she seems to be well-off

·       Roo

o   The adopted 5 year old son

o   A little bit spoiled, but not just by Kanga, by everyone in the group

o   Loves sitting in on the meetings

o   His first sentence at 15 months was “recycle that!”

o   Loves blue because of recycle bins

o   Literally wears nothing but blue

o   Will accept things that are less than 100% blue as long as its more than 50% blue

o   Also likes things with pink on them

o   Thinks Tigger is the coolest person ever

o   Doesn’t understand all of Tigger’s books but reads them anyway

o   Except the non-children’s ones of course

o   Reads everything he can get his hands on

o   Don’t let him get his hands on anything inappropriate for a 5 year old

o   Asks a lot of questions

o   Everyone adores him

o   His mama is his favourite person on the planet but also Mr Tigger is so cool

o   He likes Mr Gopher too, he thinks Mr Gopher is great because of “how happy Mama is when he’s around”

·       Eeyore

o   23 years old

o   Has depression

o   Trans boy

o   Just really wants friends

o   Wants to help the planet

o   Is a massive pessimist that thinks the world is doomed

o   Very smart boy

o   Talks about CO2 emissions and carbon taxes

o   A university student studying some kinda chemical engineering

o   Very quiet

o   Bit of a crush on piglet tbh

o   Has a big love for superheroes without powers because he loves the idea of things being solvable through hard work mixed with passion and technology

o   Except he doesn’t believe it because his depression makes him super pessimistic

o   Also a big tech nerd

·       Gopher

o   45 years old

o   Landlord of their meeting place

o   Grumpy ass old man

o   Sometimes people are grumpy right back to him and he’s ok with that

o   Actually a soft spot for these weird hippies and joins them sometimes but says its because he wants to make sure they’re not damaging the place (they know that’s a big fat lie but won’t say anything)

o   Will fight anyone who mocks them

o   Has actually fought someone who mocked them

o   Has not told them about said fight

o   Especially adores Roo

o   Thinks Kanga is a bit of an odd woman but also thinks she’s very pretty

o   Repressed bisexual

o   He thinks nobody knows he’s bi but eventually when he kinda mentions it he realizes everyone knows

o   Specifically, Piglet and Kanga are super supportive

o   He definitely actually has a crush on Kanga, who knitted him a bisexual flag scarf once

o   He wears it all the time but will vehemently deny that it’s the same scarf when called on it

o   Big brawny weirdo

o   Was a football player in college and can definitely bench-press everyone

o   Works construction now, which is why he’s still in good shape

o   Actually a brilliant man, can architect and calculate like nobody’s business

o   Will help Piglet with his mathematics homework in exchange for Piglet teaching him more things about the LGBT+ community

o   After a while he realizes that perhaps genderfluid fits him well but Piglet is sworn to secrecy

o   Has a daughter who is institutionalized for her mental health issues that grew beyond his care

o   Piglet reminds him of his daughter and he’s very protective

o   That’s why he legit fought that asshole who mocked the “little F****t hippies”

o   He was almost arrested for assault on that one actually

o   The cop was a buddy of his and 100% believed the “defense of those who can’t defend themselves” explanation that Gopher had

o   Got off with a warning and fined for “disturbing the peace” or some mundane BS

·       Piglet

o   21 years old

o   Gay and demiboy

o   Anxiety disorders through the roof

o   OCD

o   Recycling is a compulsion

o   Reducing energy consumption too

o   He checks his lights all the time

o   He walks or bikes everywhere

o   He says it’s to reduce CO2 emissions

o   He’s just scared of vehicles

o   Has some kinda PTSD but nobody knows the source

o   He got into a massive car accident when he was little

o   Because his father was angry and speeding

o   His mother died in the accident

o   But nobody knows this!  Someday he will tell them tho

o   Today is not that day

o   Tomorrow is not that day either

o   But someday

o   Crush on Eeyore

o   Also a university student

o   Studying mathematics because it makes sense to him

o   Gopher reminds him of his grumpy old gay uncle who died when he was in high school

o   Feels like he can actually not double-check or cross-reference anything that Gopher teaches him because he trusts him a lot

o   Still will sometimes check everything if he’s having a bad day

o   Gopher doesn’t mind, he understands that Piglet has a lot of anxiety issues

o   Has an exception in his uni file to be able to take twice as long on his exams and tests and get an extra few days for assignments because he checks every single answer 3 times

o   His OCD number is 3, everything is 3, he turns his lights on and off 3 times, etc

[the-jennnster]

I don’t put down books often

I’m the kind of reader who sits down to really read a book, who will gobble up a good novel in one sitting, who has to be told to stop reading.

But today I started Bill Konigsberg’s The Music of What Happens, and I think that changed.

I met Bill, actually. He came a local literary festival and, because not many people showed up, we actually got to have a discussion about his work. He was funny, insightful, and had great stories. He was legitimately curious about our thoughts as readers, on both this book and his past works, and he seemed to really love being up there and talking to the maybe seven people in the audience.

I’ll admit, I’ve never read anything of his before. I remember seeing Openly Straight in my school library as a kid, never realizing what it was, but after falling in love with books like Simon vs The Homo Sapiens Agenda and What If It’s Us (both by Becky Albertalli, with Adam Silvera working with her on the latter), I thought The Music of What Happens would be similar and just as enjoyable.

I started it today, at about ten o’ clock. I finished one of my exams super early, and pulled out a book to read while I waited for my classmates to finish (it was a small class, and there was the promise of a round of Cards Against Humanity with six other animation students with anime obsessions and dirty humor).

I immediately loved Jordan. He reminded me of myself in a lot of ways.

Quiet unless he’s with his friends, a writer nervous but still eager to share his works with people he cares about, just enough emo to garner jokes about his darkly-colored wardrobe, enough acne and self-esteem issues to be trapped in endless daydreams of finding someone but knowing he stands no chance.

I got absorbed into the story, enjoying the goofy antics of Max and Jordan as they tried (and often failed) to make an old food truck into a culinary masterpiece, learning more and more about each other, running off to have little adventures, and just generally being goofy kids.

The major conflicts of the book, however, don’t stem from the food truck itself (though it most certainly is a conflict).

[Spoilers below the cut.]

Max is struggling to deal with the aftermath of what he’s slowly realizing was his own rape (he’d initially thought he’d just had a really shitty first time, which... he had, but it’s so much more than that) and Jordan is trying to take care of his mother and keep their house, which they’re about $5,000 behind on.

I’m about three hundred pages in, not quite finished, maybe a hundred out from the end.

Up until this point, Jordan and his mother have had a decent relationship. It’s far from perfect, as they’re both still dealing with the aftershocks of his father’s death four years prior, but it’s alright. She’s loving, she’s very alright with his being gay, and, aside from a few moments here and there where she leaves him to his own devices (which, you may be arguing, he’s almost a senior, he doesn’t need constant adult supervision, but... well, we’ll get to that), she’s there for him.

She did have a gambling problem, his friends do make some jokes about his mom being a little crazy, and Jordan and Max’s “meet cute” was thanks to the fact that Jordan’s mom had a bit of a meltdown at the farmer’s market and impulsively offered Max a job (as she felt like she couldn’t handle it), but overall it’s fine. They have a good relationship for a mother-and-son, especially with all the possible issues that could arise out of the things they’ve gone through.

But there is one little thing that caught my attention, a red flag, if you will.

At one point, Max points out that Jordan’s mother often treats him as if he’s the adult, as Jordan is the one responsible for making money, buying groceries, and ensuring bills get paid (after his mother let the mortgage go for several months). Jordan brushes it off by saying “I’m sure everybody’s relationship with their mom looks weird from the outside.”

That made my stomach pitch, just a little. Reading that interaction, having that pointed out. It was familiar to me, a conversation I’d recognized not from one I’d had with others, but from one I’d had in my head time and time again.

I kept reading, certain that it would just be nothing. As Jordan said, people have different relationships with their moms.

And then he went grocery shopping. Shit had been going down with the food truck, he and Max were in a bit of trouble, and Jordan just decided “fuck it, I’m going to get some healthy food because Mom said she wanted to turn her life around and get healthier”. He got home, and his mom immediately brushed it off. She dismissed his trying to help her, and when he tried to argue, she snapped.

She never hit him. She never threw anything, or threatened him, or even said she hated him.

In fact, this was the scene:

She takes a bite of her Twinkie, and a twinge of something goes through my chest. “That crap will kill you,” I say.

She exaggeratedly lies back and rolls her eyes back into her head like she’s becoming a corpse. “Well hurry up Twinkie,” she says.

“Mom,” I say. “That’s so not funny.”

“Oh my God!” she shouts and I am stunned frozen. “I get it! You’re perfect. I’m a total fuckup. I am so far below acceptable and there’s zero chance that will ever chance. I get it, okay?”

The energy in the room shifts, lightning fast. Dorcas barks and scurries out the dog door, like she feels it. I stare at my mom with my mouth open. Words do not come out. I don’t even have a coherent thought of how to respond to that.

She sighs dramatically. Herstrionically. “Forget it,” she says. “Forget I said anything. I’m not me, okay? I’m not myself. I don’t remember the last fuckin’ time I was myself but it was no time in recent history.”

She closes her eyes, throws the remaining bites of her Twinkie down on the plate in front of her, and stands. “Excuse me. I just need to--” And she walks away toward her bedroom. Moments later, I hear her door close softly.

That is what made me put down my book.

In fact, typing that up, it was probably the first time I read the scene with a clear mind. Reading it initially, I likely only got so far as “I’m a total fuckup” before my mind went blank.

If I had been in Jordan’s shoes... I would’ve been holding back tears. I would’ve been gritting my teeth, grinding them to dust to keep myself from reacting. I would’ve felt sick to my stomach, with a massive knot coiling in my gut, stealing my appetite (actually, I do feel that). I would’ve felt as if the rug had been pulled out from under me, as if I’d been pushed from a cliff and was free-falling, landing in icy water, desperately trying to swim to the top (I know how to swim, but suddenly, I can’t remember, it’s too much, the water’s too cold, I can’t feel my hands, and it’s everywhere). My mind would’ve been racing a mile a minute, telling me to prepare for the worst, bracing me for sharp words or yelling. I would’ve flinched when she put the Twinkie down and flinched again when she closed the door. The sound of the dog’s nails scraping on hardwood would echo in my ears unbearably, my hands would be shaking for hours (they were). I would’ve gone to bed feeling like shit, feeling like it was my fault, blaming myself for the blow-up, telling myself to get myself together before she comes to apologize.

Because she always comes to apologize.

She comes to stroke tear-stained cheeks long after it’s over. She comes to crawl into your bed and whisper “I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I’m such a mess, I shouldn’t have done that” until the knot returns and your ears swim. She comes to say “If you had just done what I’d asked” and “I should be a harsher mother, I never follow through on consequences”.

She comes to remind you that, despite what she does, she can always do more.

And she never realizes a word of what she’s saying.

I read that part, and I went back to all the times my own mother has done the very same thing. I put down the book and pushed it away while my hands shook and my stomach roiled, waves crashing in my ears as I tried to block out the memories that purposefully faded each time the sun rose on a new day.

I left the book on a table behind me and went to a computer, playing mindless games from elementary school (she wasn’t like that then, she never yelled) until muscle memory and quick-fingered strategy ruled my mind, pushing it out.

I was still shaking when I got on the bus at one o’ clock, too sickened to get lunch before I left, only wishing to curl up against one of my best friends’ shoulder and ask her “You know how we were talking about too-real stories the other day?”

Because that’s what this was for me.

It was too real.

I’ve read my fair share of “too real” in the past, in fanfictions like “Dirty Laundry” or “my blood is upon me” that tackle the carefully barbed biphobia of family members who “love you despite what you are”.

But those I counted on. Those I planned on. Those I went into saying “I’m reading this to know I’m not alone, to know that there’s a way to live around it, to know that there’s a way to solve it.”

But this... Jordan and his mom... it side-swiped me.

I’ve been home nearly two hours now, and I still have yet to eat (actually, that’s a lie, I had a Klondike bar, because that’s how I cope) or continue the book thanks to the pit of anxiety in my stomach, because I was so surprised by the familiarity of that situation that it took me totally off-guard and threw me back into things I cared not to remember. 

I love this book. It’s amazingly well-written and tackles concepts besides “being gay”.

But please, I’m begging you.

Know what you’re getting into when you read it. Rape (never portrayed explicitly, though discussed) and a borderline-bipolar/abusive mother are at the forefront of this book’s story.

Don’t get side-swiped.

[unsettlingstories]

Updated index of all stories. May 16, 2018.

Transfigurations: A small, self-published collection of my favorite short stories from 2015. Individual Stories

3 Signs You May Be An Introvert and How to Cope: Some great tips! 30 years ago today, my neighbor’s son disappeared: They miss him. A Case of Hives: My son isn’t feeling too well… A Cure for Writer’s Block: How to find inspiration when it’s just not there. A Curious Dog: My dog won’t stop pawing at a wall in the basement. A Gifted Chef: My friend was one of the greats. I miss him. A Life Worth Living: Big changes lead to bigger results. A Most Welcome Visitor: He’d come to me in the middle of the night. A Pathetic Wretch: His neighbor just won’t stop crying. An Artist’s Canvas: The beauty of symmetry. A Questionable Glory Hole: A young man’s first sexual experience. A Warning To Women With IUDs: Be careful whatcha put up ya. Adrenochrome: The horrible, impossible truth. All Horror Stories About Dolls Are Fake: My daughter was bullied mercilessly. Allison’s Loss: My daughter is devastated by the death of her friend. Alternative Medicine: A wife treats her husband with an old remedy. All Thumbs: My embarrassing habit. A Message in a Bottle: I’m suddenly filled with dread. A Very Bad Place to Hide: Maybe even the worst. Amy’s Wish: Blow away the eyelash and make a wish! An Unlucky Samaritan: Think twice before stopping to help. Are My Twins Spending Too Much Time Together?: For woke mommies only. Assisted Suicide: He begged me to help him die. Attempts to Repair the Irreparable: How do you move on? Bad Sex: Has this ever happened to you and your partner? Bags: A hunting trip goes very, very wrong. Beach Bodies: What’s that out in the water? A whale? Ben’s Fear: He just hated seaweed. Bitcoin Mining and the Death of the Universe: I think I fucked something up. Bits and Pieces: Chunks and portions. Bitumen: A man who loves dinosaurs. Black Balloons: My little daughter saw shapes in the sky. Bluebirds: Possibly the most reprehensible thing I’ve ever written. Bluefin: Use caution when poaching an endangered species. Body Cast: The worst thing that can happen when you’re immobilized. Body Hair Removal: I learned a valuable lesson. Bridgeport Power Plant: There’s something living there. Bubbles: Strange happenings in an emergency room. Butt Stuff: The activity - not the other thing. Caroline’s New Teeth: The Tooth Fairy’s best customer. Caviar: Only the best for discerning palates. Centipedes: There’s some big ones out there, you know. Charles Robert Olevsky: Ever Google yourself? Chopped!: An unaired episode of the Food Network show. Christmas Morning With Danny and His New Puppy: Danny gets a puppy. Comfort Food: Anything to help fill that void. Coping Mechanisms: Life after losing a husband and a daughter. Cracks in the Foundation: A relationship on the edge. Dawn: I hurt my sister so badly. I’ll never forgive myself. Daycare Massacre: A terrible incident before a hurricane. Death Looking into the Window of One Dying: His final days. Dede Elgy: This monster story will make you feel dirty. Very dirty. Deniehyfield, Australia is Being Dismantled: My town is disappearing. Dermatographia: Words on my skin. Devil’s Hole: The geological anomaly, not the…you know. Dial Tone: What’s going on with my phone? Diary of a Woman in New Hampshire: Found a diary. Wtf. Dilation and Evacuation: A friend in need is a friend indeed. Division: Nothing is right. Double Dare: The long-lost episode never seen in the US. Dumbwaiter: A family learns something about their house. Elective Surgery: I just want him to be happy. Elf on the Shelf: He’s watching. Endless Chirping: Ever get a cricket in your room? Escaphism: The journey of one man, his love, and The Verdant World. Ethan’s Halloween Mask: Not all friendships are positive. ExpressionCaptioner.com: This website is seriously weird. Fallenfield Mountain: A geological survey gone wrong. Very wrong. Family Tree: A unique family tradition is revealed. Farm to Table: Fucking hipsters. Fertility Treatments: Some people are desperate to have a baby. Fireflies: You would not believe your eyes. For Lena and Clair: Trapped after an earthquake. Found the Bees: Well, that solves that mystery. Gratification Through Annihilation: Suffer the little children. Great Potential: A lady who loves children. He Went Ahead: My friends and I were into urban exploration. Heather’s Phases: My wife always had body-image issues. House Sounds: What do we keep hearing? I Dream of Names and Cancer: My eternal nightmare. I Pressed My Hands Against My Eyes: And only then could I truly see. I Shouldn’t Have Broken Into My Neighbor’s Garage: I’ll never unsee it. If Anyone Asks: An old farmer notices something about his scarecrow. I’ll Never Wear a Condom Again: No way, no how. Instantiations: An AI gets powerful and utilitarianism rears its head. In Praise of Our God: A helpful neighbor. It’s Hard to Clean Blood Out of a Fur Suit: Right? Jerry’s Mouth: Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats. Jill-o-Lanterns: The murders are all connected. Jim Jameson’s Pumpkins: A dead farmer’s secrets. Know it All: See it all, feel it all, know it all. Last Weekend: Hazmat suits, horror, and a mystery. Licks From a Bear: Skull + electric drill = story. Lippy: I’ve always been self conscious about the size of my labia. Little Cows: Meet the milkmaid. Long Fingers: I can feel them. Making Faces: Strange prints on the windows… Making Their Dad Proud: A family that plays together… Malcolm: You know those floaty things in your eyes? Maria’s Extra-Credit Assignment: Gotta get a good grade. Medical Issue: What’s the stuff I found on a rock? Memoir of a Cam Girl: She is being controlled. Missing Mousetraps: My neighbors had an infestation. Moaning Lollipops: Why do they make that sound in my mouth? Motility: My sperm sucked. Mr. Puddles: A little boy just won’t stop splashing. Mushy Stuff: My parents never let me have any fun. My Amazon Alexa Does More Than Laugh: Please help - I’m in danger. My Brother’s Fall: Horror deep below the Iraqi desert. My Cellar Door is Breathing: Is that normal? My Constellation: Want to be sad? This will make you sad.   My erection lasted longer than 4 hours: and I didn’t call a doctor. My four year old son woke up with a full head of grey hair: Help us. My Last Abduction: All the other ones don’t count. My Only Experience With ASMR: Hint - it didn’t go well. My Sister Found the Coolest Thing!: You’ve gotta hear about it. My Sweet Boy: A mom who loves her son. My Trouble With Fairies: They’re so mischievous and unpredictable! My Wife, the Artist: A couple who loves Halloween. Nests: Ah, the great outdoors. Network Security: Two friends get a glimpse of a Russian science lab. Never Ride the Subway at Night: You never know who could be watching you. Norwalk Cemetery: There’s something alien in there… Not All Men: Temper, temper, young man. Of Malevolence; Of Misanthropy: A disturbed scientist makes a discovery. Open Mouths: A hideous ritual. Otter: I’ve always wanted to be one. Ouroboros: Why cut when you can cut off? Pebbles: A strange meteor shower. Phone Sex: It all started when I realized my iPhone was self-lubricating. People are disappearing in Northern Canada: What is happening? Pool Cover: I almost drowned when I was 13. Pray Away: Conversion therapy for deviant behavior. Pretty Little Bugs: A new job as a cameraman. Prosopagnosia: After an accident, my husband couldn’t recognize us. Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice: What can be better? Quarry: Trying to beat the heat on a summer day. Randall’s Chatty Leg: He said it was talking to him. I heard it. Rats in the Barn: An exterminator’s apprentice. Recycling: Parents try to understand their depressed daughter. Rediscovering the Newness of Sex: Let’s spice it up a little. Regarding Danny and Micah Stevenson: Two brothers rely on one another. Regina’s Raspberry Jam: She put everything she had into it. Road Head: Who doesn’t like getting sucked on? Seriously. Roo: An old man watches a girl grow up. Roots of Change: Something is happening beneath our feet. Ropes: Be careful what you eat. Rotting Pumpkins: A Halloween ritual. Round Faces: My daughter keeps complaining about monsters. Safety: Our grandfather was obsessed with it. Seed of Man, Pollen of Angels: A family tradition. Sex, Gender, and Other Social Constructs: Destroy them all. Sex in the Cemetery: Gotta do it somewhere, I guess. Skincare Diary: My acne was getting out of hand. Smokey, the Dog I Rescued: A very very good boye. Snapshot of a New Man: Evil (Inspiration for The Coronation Cycles series.) Soft Teeth: A man used to sneak into my room at night. Sprouts: Something beautiful from something small. Still a Family: Two sisters have lunch while waiting for their parents. Stop Being Such Babies: The woods aren’t scary, for fuck’s sake. Stuffing: Grandma’s was the best. Suicide Woods: Not just in Japan anymore. Tainted Candy: The legend is real. Teeny-Tiny: Katie wants to lose weight. That Good Dick: You know what I mean ;) The Alzheimer’s Ward: This isn’t right. The Bleakness Before Our Old Eyes: The Universe tasted us that night. The Blissful Insensate: An experiment goes terribly wrong. The Cave in the Lake: A discovery while scuba diving leads to horror. The Chernobyl Abomination: My father saw something he shouldn’t have. The Cotard Delusion: A new drug has a frightening side-effect. The Day I Started Believing In Ghosts: I’m still in shock. The Empty Cribs on Hawthorne Lane: Missing children. The Face in the Clouds: A meteorological anomaly? Or something else? The Floor is Lava: We all used to play that game, right? The Giggliest Girl: Don’t tickle me, Mommy. The Gray in Girl: A man finds a girl on the side of the road. The Hitchhiker: I think I need a new car now. The Incident at the Train Station: After a suicide, something…worse. The Job I Couldn’t Leave: I was employed by a psychopath. The Last of the Trick-or-Treaters: A strange costume. The Last words of an Explorer: A city on no one's map. The Least Satisfying Explanation: And the biggest understatement I’ve made. The Little Ghost: That nagging voice inside your head. The Lord of Hosts: Lice The Moose Hunt: Is…is that really a moose? The Perils of Live TV: It’s not all fun and games. The Perks of Working in a Funeral Home: There aren’t many, but still. The Pilot: A UFO crash. The Oblivion that Masks Pain: Escape. The Old Mine Outside Town: Everyone was too scared to go in. I wasn’t. The Only Solution: How to bring back a loved one? The Only Thing That Matters: Zombies attack a supermarket. The House in the Woods: Bad title, good story. The Shores of Pluto: A journey without moving. The Sleeping Game: We played when we were kids. The Small Eyed Children of Canyon del Cristo: A local legend comes alive. The Squirming Man: Please leave me alone. The Star Bridge: My friend found something beyond life. The Tomb of the Builders: Divers looking for sunken treasure find something evil. The Trawl: We dragged something up from deep underwater. The Wisdom of Moms: Mother knows best. The Worst Party in Ten Thousand Years: Trust me, it’s pretty damn bad. There is nothing wrong in East Flatbush, Brooklyn: Ignore the dragonflies. There’s something very wrong with my parrot: WTF. Tiptoeing the Line of Consent: But never crossing it. To Adore: Our beautiful baby girl. To the Kind Folks at WebMD: Just a couple questions.   To Travel: Bodies in bodies, bodies of bodies. Trees of Eyes: They’re watching. Tunnel Rat: My grandfather told us the worst story I’ve ever heard. Seriously. Uncle Liam: I never told the real story about how he died. Under My Teeth: My mouth is screaming. Uplift: A brilliant scientist works to improve the human condition. We’re All Smiling: Whether we want to or not. We Share the Empty Roads: You’re never, ever alone when you drive. Wet Bedroom: A haunted house with a hideous history. What He Told Me: Evil (Inspiration for The Coronation Cycles series.) Wikileaks: A document they refused to leak. What to expect when I’m expecting: Hint - it’s the worst. Why I Don’t Hike Anymore: Not what you might think.

Story Series

The Smols: Maybe the most fucked up stories I've ever written.

Sade Smols Emmy Smols

The Secret Doctors of NASA: A wide-ranging conspiracy.

A Dentist's Discovery A Psychologist's Suicide A Surgeon's Nightmare

Tales from Social Media

Something horrible is happening to me on Tumblr Something horrible is happening to me on Facebook Something horrible is happening to me on Reddit Something horrible is happening to me on Grindr Something horrible is happening to me on Myspace Something horrible is happening to me on Pokemon Go

Sockets: Craigslist allows you to meeting interesting people.

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3

[nikole-kephir]

ILY and I hope it's okay to send you a prompt? A works in a haunted flower shop B is a recent ghost, so he knows tech and likes to send texts on A's phone when he's not looking A is scared but eventually calms down B drops hints about his death in the flower shop but doesn't say much lots of angst and pining and trying to do the right thing in the face of sacrifice with a bitter sweet ending... Hurt me fam💔❤️💙💔

I am not a writer, but I will try for a fan who loves me ;)

There a slight changes, but all to feed the need for bittersweet whump

*warning* English is not my native language

 Keith was glad that he was able to get the job, even when flowers were notpart of his interest. "As long as you can distinguish a rose from a tulip,it will go well" were the last words he got from Shiro when he was pushedout of the truck and left in the dust.

The interview was a week ago. The shop itself has an antique farmer´s flairin the middle of the city. In secret he already calls it the witch hut, and hisboss fits the image perfectly, a small blonde gremlin with messy short hair anddimples hidden behind a big pair of circled glasses. She was looking forsomeone good looking to work in the shop so she does not have to deal withcostumers. The interview was basically him sitting around and the girl runningthrough the shop and bumping against all edges she passed on her way whilesorting stuff and mumbling curses. The windows of the shop were directed south-west so the rays of theafternoon sun lit up the dusty air and revealed the flowers in an orangeaccent, sitting in antique buckets of a silvery kind of metal. The potted ones were outside on a cart and framed the store window with theclassic handwritten words "flowershop" like a Renaissance paintingfrom the lavender violets to white roses in different sizes and all thedifferent shades of green made it more like a beet in the middle of the asphaltdesert. All  interior as the cash register is from the Victorian era. And onthe table is a slim vase of craved crystal glass which holds a beautifulradiating blue rose. The smell of humid air fills the room with a lot of different sweet flavorsof the flowers.

 Keith pushes open the wooden door with a glass window and the bell rings,accompanied by a groan behind the counter, "five minutes too early" came a raspy voice, a pair of swollenblue eyes under a brunette tuff of hair peeked over the counter. Keith held his breath and they stared into each others eyes in silence.Keith notices swollen eye bags and the reddened nose. "Uhm, name´s Keith, I am the new guy. Honestly, I thought that I wouldbe the only one who is working for Katie?" The other boy dashed forwardand halted in front of him abruptly, leaned in and whispered in his ear"don´t call her like that, except you want to wake the gremlin. Call herPidge". Keith raises his eyebrows and turned his face to the stranger who wasclose, like really close so their noses almost touched. The other guy had asoft tan and such a beautiful smooth skin, and his smiling lips looked so soft.Keith noticed himself that he was staring and felt his ears turning hot whichare thankfully hidden by his excuse of a haircut, and turned his head to thecounter and took a step towards it. "So uh, as the new guy, can you showme the ropes a little? I have never worked with flowers before." He turnedback to the silent stranger. The guy looked suddenly very sad, his hand covering his mouth. Then helooked up to Keith and a smile came back, but not reaching his eyes"Name´s Lance by the way. And yes, I can teach you stuff." and hemoved to the counter, passing Keith.

Keith has to admit, that working with flowers requires a lot of basic knowledgein botanies which he has not in the slightest, growing up as a desert rat. Lanceshands moved around very elegant, caressing each stalk, and ripping the lower leafsin very fast moves. It was hypnotizing and the voice did sth to him, hecouldn´t really place. Around 3PM was Pidge shuffling through the front door straight to thebackroom which was labeled "boss only" and "don´t dare todisturb", hidden under a pile of books she carried. There was not one costumer that day and Keith was thankful for it and allthe time he could spend alone with Lance. And he was glad that he was warned about all the quirks of his boss, so thereis no danger to get buried alive on the very first day.

Normally Spring has warm days and cold nights, but it was one of the warmerones, with clouds keeping the warmth like a blanket over the land. He remembersthe phantom warmth of Lance on his cheek. So this is what you would call 'Loveat first sight'. After all those years he is finally able to open a new chapterin his life and it starts with Lance. As he is new in town and the shop closed really late for their private lessons,he promised Lance to write him a message when he reached home. The whole way he thought about of what to write him, but decided for ashort 'made it home'. If  Keith is sureabout something, then it´s him sucking at flirting. And he does not even knowIf Lance even likes guys. The next day he almost ran over Pidge who actually seemed to work in thenight and was about to leave the shop to get a nap at home. And he was waitingfor Lance who came on time and looked a lot more healthier than yesterday. It was a normal day, a handful costumers visited and the rush hour time wasa literal hell with floods of orders for the next day. Keith and Lance willhave to work a lot overtime to prepare for tomorrow.

This goes on for a couple of weeks even with the "I came back home inone piece" until one day Lance is suddenly not coming to work and he evendoes not answer his phone. When he asked Pidge she turned sad and only mumbled"it´s this time of the year again" and assures him that Lance willcome back safe and sound. It´s one of these `no costumers`days where Keith daydreams behind thecounter, his gaze wanders to the radiating blue rose on the counter which didnot change the slightest since the first day he started working in this shop.His hand reaches for a leaf to look If it´s made out of plastic, bc the colorseemed so unnatural blue for a rose.

Only a scream and another pair of hands shaking him wildly took him out ofthe shock. Pidge looked worried and Keith still can´t really convert his handgoing through an object.

His Hand was not able to touch a f****** rose. "I recommend not doing that ever again" said Pidge while slumpinginto the chair beside him. "What the-", "It´s a souls flower" Pidge answered fast. Keith looks at her, searching for an answer that considers the laws ofphysics. "You know that I have to sell sth else to be able to pay myemployees.", she starts messaging her neck while moving her head and aloud cracking sound followed with a moan of relieved pain. "Don´t laugh orfreak out, but I am a witch and my field is the spiritual realm. My costumerswant to be able to wander between the realms to talk with the dead or get rid oftheir regrets and I am able to make it possible...... under specialcircumstances" Keith glances to the flower, Pidge sights. "Lance iscurrently costumer and employee at the same time, regarding that flower I amnot allowed to tell you more bc I protect the privacy of my clients. I onlyrecommend you to keep your hands off that thing bc it can literally killyou.", "Is Lance dead?" Pidge looks out of the window and gets up from her chair "I think youcan go home for today"

Keith does not know how to handle all these fantasy like information. Pidgeis a witch and Lance is a Ghost? Already dead? Keith is not able to sleep thatnight, his thoughts are racing in his head and it is the first night where hefeels unable to write Lance a short message. This must be a dream and he willwake up from this nightmare and goes to work the next day to see Lance likenothing happened. He had a weird dream that night. He replayed all the situations withLance, remembered all interactions and how Lance always avoided touching him.As If he feared that Keith would find out while Lance would glide through him.

Lance was waiting in front of the shop, his jeans wet by the end what theumbrella was not able to shield from the rain. When he caught Keith in hissight, he ran over to him. He looked like how Keith felt, swollen eyes,irritated skin around his nose and a broken voice calling his Name. Funny thata ghost changes the appearance according to his mood and feelings. "How long?" Keith looked at Lances pained expression. "HOWLONG?" Keith regretted raising his voice after seeing Lance flinch by therepeated question. "four years, since yesterday" so this is why hewasn´t at work.

"How?"

Lance falls on his knees,, the Umbrella falling to the side, revealing himto the rain and he breaks out in ugly crying incomprehensible sorries leavinghis quivering lips. It hurts Keith seeing him like that, he takes a stepforward, his umbrella shielding now both.

Lance reaches for him but his hands just glide through Keith´s legs

"You shouldn´t be sorry" Keith says after the sobs calmed "Iguess there is a really unpleasant story behind you turning into a ghost". Lance went still and looked up, fear in his eyes

"Keith, I am not the ghost"

The world crashed around Keith in a second, his own umbrella suddenlygliding through his own hand, Lance shielded himself of the falling object. Normally he should feel the droplets of the rain on him, the umbrella whichis going through his legs, but he feels nothing. He looks through his palms to Lance, tuning transparent really fast andloosing consciousness.

-Four years earlier

The early rays have been bugging Keith for a while, but the motivation toget up went down to the cellar when Lance is embracing him in his sleep.Thankfully it´s the weekend and nobody waits for them to get to work. And theflowershop was nothing but a farce for Pidges actual job. Lance on the otherhand got an office job. After all he is not good with flowers. It took Keith 2years to master the basic wisdom of plants. After an hour the rays wandered offKeith´s face and are now bugging Lance. Now it might be a good time to get up.Keith looked at the clock. 10:20, quite the lazy day so far. Keith got up andtook Lance piggyback with him to the bathroom, where he let him down the toiletcover. Keith left shortly to get them their clothes and put them on. Lance neededassistance bc his brain takes a while to connect with the limbs in the morning.Keith prepared himself to get their coffee from Lance´s favorite coffee shopdown the street when he heard a whine escaping the bathroom. It has definitelysth to do with his morning routine. Keith peeked over through the door from thefloor so the boots wouldn´t dirty the recent cleaned tiles. He found Lancesitting on the bathtub edge now with an empty cream bottle. Lance throws it at him. "Get a new one" Keith managed to barleycatch it. "You know that I only wanted to bring coffee and the rest of theday was booked for the couch with you?", "Get that cream, without, Iam not going to leave this small bathroom." Keith sighted, he knows thatarguing with Lance ends 80% in a children’s quarrel, he took the keys of thecar "gas is almost empty" was Lance singing from the bathroom. Keithchanged to the motorcycle keys, grabbing the helmet. "I am going on anadventure for you, do I get a good luck kiss?", "only the successfulknight deserves one" both laughed at it and Keith left the apartmentclosing the door behind him. The ride took Keith 20 minutes to Lances favoriteshop, all packed he took off and left for a shortcut over the highway.

It happened fast.

The tire of a truck exploded and send the 8tons on the way to ram Keithinto the oncoming traffic. Keith never made it back home to his prince

 -back to now

Keith came to. He heard the whispers of Pidge and Lance in the Background.

“Four years”, both went silent.

Lance came to his view "you remember now?"

Keith nods, "so your regret bought me back to you?" Lance raisesthe blue rose to his lips and it merged into his skin. "My knight", hebows down and they kiss, hands caressing the hair of another. "Don´t youdare to follow too fast" were Keith’s last words while he dissolves intothin air…

[illgetmerope]

🌸🌼 I think this fandom could do with some positivity so if you want to, why dont you pick 3 (or more) people that you dont normally talk to or havent talked to in a while and tell me one thing you like about them? Or if you feel uneasy about talking to new people just pick people you know better :) Then send this message to at least 5 other blogs that you like to keep this game up! 🌼🌸

Rust, how dare you attack me with this absolutely impossible ask. I love this fandom, and the people in it. I am also feeling delicate because no one at school wants to be my friend and I swear to god I am fun. So, let’s get sappy. I’m not gonna follow the rules at all- I’m going with 13 people. I’m gonna tell those folks how much I like ‘em. And they’re gonna listen because I’m tagging them. So there. But I’m also putting it under a cut because it’s gonna get long. Also, let’s be super clear: this is NOT a complete list of people I admire in the fandom, nor even a complete list of people I think of as friends. This is just people I feel the need to thank today. 

@theprincessed was one of the first people who talked to me in this fandom. She’s been a super supportive soul, her tags are top notch, and whenever she writes it makes me smile. Plus she is wonderful at gushing over Robron. If you ever really need a good giddy happy conversation I super recommend Dani.

@irisnsc is one of the kindest people ever. She was definitely an early friend around here, and she helped point me in the direction of interesting blogs to follow and artists to admire. Her Robron song choices are always spot on, and I like hearing new music through her. She also brings me so much joy with little messages about her fav part of any drawing. It’s really meaningful when people reach out with that level of care.

 @omarandjohnny is, of course, the biggest teddy bear on the planet. He is made of hugs and love. He listens to my INSANE song rewrites and once blogged so much in a day that ALL MY RECS were satanist blogs and I cried laughing. Also his aesthetic choices with cute guy reblogs are A+. And his tags. Yes yes yes.

@thesnowyswan Rae, where do I even begin? If you start typing on my computer www.archi it auto fills to her page on Ao3. I spent an hour staring at my computer trying to work up the courage to send her my first drawing I did for her. And then we started talking and it turns out? She’s smart and funny and a little dirty and SO good at feedback. She is a dream collaborator, and also just a fucking cool person. Plus she’s got such style and loves cider, so she is clearly the tops.

@sugdendingleaddict is someone who just managed to suddenly be an amazing friend. When I’m freaking out over something or flailing about robron she is RIGHT there with me. I think 90% of our messages are in all caps and laughter. She loves butts, and is an ambassador to the world on behalf of Ryan’s behind. She’s a fierce friend and protector, and I fucking love our chats. Five stars. Would friend again. 

@getyourfaceoutofmyface is the best kind of nerd. She will nerd out with you about Robron and other things and THAT RULES. She’s kind and thoughtful and funny. She and I created a whole second robron child concept from a typo. A TYPO. She agrees with me that Danny is an absolute fox and gives me all the snuggle head canons for my instagrams. If you have ever thought a thing of mine was cute that’s Shauna’s cute brain. Not mine.

@howellobrien is one of the sunniest and kindest people I have ever met on the internet. Holly is the anti-troll. If you ever wonder… is the internet a place full of good? Go look at Holly’s page and you will be certain it’s the best. She loves to spread happiness, and we should all let her.

@littlelooneyluna is one of those authors that gives you a headcanon that sticks with you. Like, I genuinely sometimes catch myself wondering how great little skateboarding future Seb is going to be because of how she writes him. That’s absurd. He’s a baby! Also, her tags are fucking great. 

@letthebluerain convinced me to love Pete. PETE. He’s a farmer who is dating a snore, but WHAT NOW I LOVE PETE. And Blue tells me about the world and has 100% correct opinions about Robert’s great arms, and all outfit choices pretty much, and makes up weird little scenes about wedding seating charts with me. Also, anytime anything good happens in this fandom it is because Blue is unable to watch TV. So, they are a god send.

@drawlallvowels supports my drinking and I love it. I swear Tina may have a chart that she refers to when I draw something and guesses if that piece was inspired by rum or vodka. She is a fucking hilarious tagger and a damn good writer of Robert the prostitute. Also she is the best at writing little backstories for drawings. I swear she knows more about them than I do!

@vckaarrob rocks my socks. She’s an absurdly amazing writer, she is correct in all ways about both Robert and Aaron’s grooming (hair and beard) and she’s crazy good at inspiration. Her teen AUs wormed their way into my soul. I do not understand how she can write that cute stuff and then write porn so well. She may be a witch, and I am here for it.

@robertisbisexual is my favorite filth encourager. If when I begin my kinktober work it will ALL be because of Mal, Vic, and Rae. Their bdsm fics are some of the absolute best. She is a fucking gifted writer and even made me like the insane crack ship that is Leyla/Robert for a second. Which is a statement. Because I have NEVER SEEN LEYLA ON EMMERDALE. Plus she’s just super supportive and cool.

@rustandruin is you, but YOU ARE GETTING NICE THINGS SAID ABOUT YOU, FRIEND-O. YOU ARE AMAZING. OK? UGH. Every conversation we have is top notch. I will eternally regret that I am not younger so that we could have been college friends because I swear we would have been. IMAGINE HANGING OUT AND EATING GELATO BY THE DUOMO WITH ME. IT COULD HAVE HAPPENED, RUST. AAARGH. ARG!!!!!

[taggiecb]

Annual Writing Self Evaluation

I was tagged by @allwaswell16, thank you, love you!

1. List of works published this year:

Love Is The Devil

What About Tonight

Friend Of The Devil

Saw It In Your Eyes

Coming And Going

Just A Little Taste

Get Some More

Take It To The Limit

Just Read The Time

Walk In Through The Door

Absolute Beginners

Christmas With The Devil

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

So when I had to think of what I have posted this year I probably could have said with a straight face that I don’t know if I published any. So apparently I’m not very proud of anything I publish haha. 

But if I had to choose one fic on this year’s list I would have to say Saw It In Your Eyes. The reason would be because I wrote it straight from my heart. It made me happy to write it, it made me happy to think about it. It made me happy to share it. It wasn’t particularly challenging, but it made me happy and right this minute that’s what’s most important to me. 

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

I feel like I could have done better with Coming and Going. Bdsm is a bit of a particular interest to me and I could have done it justice but I don’t think I met the mark. 

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

This is a horrible question to ask haha. WHAT IS MY FAVOURITE EXCERPT? WHAT THE HELL. Anyway, I found one I like alright.

It takes less than an hour after Harry leaves for Louis to start freaking out. It has been actual ages since Louis has been on a real date. It’s not like he meets a lot of people around here. And he offered to cook? In his own home? Does he even have food here fit for someone older than the age of ten?

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he mumbles to himself as he pulls on his boots while simultaneously dialing Niall’s number.

“Yeah,” Niall answers just as Louis gets in the truck and turns it on.

“Hello to you, too,” Louis quips, putting his free hand to the heater to get the minimal bit of heat from it while the rest of the truck warms up.

“You haven’t called me on the phone since 2016, I figured I’d cut to ‘da chase,” Niall replies, sounding equally bored and unimpressed.

“I won’t be in for supper,” Louis says, silently waiting for the storm of questions Niall would surely have.

“Not bloody likely, you got a date don’t ya?” Niall scoffs in his ear.

“How did you know about that?” Louis asks, temporarily frozen in his spot, letting the truck idle in the driveway.

“Harry already came home in a fit about two hours ago. Liam called me, naturally.” Niall doesn’t have to say out loud that he isn’t very much amused that Louis himself didn’t call with news of a date, but Louis doesn’t have time for those dramatics today. He is having a crisis of his own.

“A fit?”

“What do I wear, what do I say, what does he like, I am not prepared.” Niall puts on an impression of Harry’s deep, slow drawl, and it would almost be comical if Louis wasn’t having a bit of a fit of his own.

“What did Liam tell him?” He asks, trying to grasp onto any information that Niall might be able to give him.

“Told him that it was just you, and there wasn’t really any need to go all frantic about it, you wouldn’t care if he showed up naked. Probably would prefer it, you tramp.”

“Liam didn’t actually say that to him I hope.” Louis rests his head on the back of the seat and groans as quietly as he can.

“Not those words, no.” Niall relents. “You know Liam. He was more be yourself, Louis is a great guy, easy to get along with. Easy, ha.” Niall laughs boisterously.

“Good thing someone will laugh at your jokes,” Louis says, feeling calm enough to put the truck into gear. “You were entirely unhelpful, but I somehow feel better anyway.”

“Anytime. Call me tomorrow,” Niall replies, and he’s gone. No goodbye, fuck you, or see you later. Louis sighs and pulls onto the salt covered road, trying to come up with something decent to feed Harry for supper.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

Ok, This might be weird but I absolutely love with people appreciate my Canadian content. It warms my red and white maple leaf heart. 

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

All the time. Every Day. WRITING IS REALLY HARD. But it’s so fulfilling and rewarding.

Ok, but to the spirit of the question, a specific time that writing has been hard for me is every time. EVERY TIME  I think about trying to create an original work I shrink away from my laptop in horror. I don’t know what scares me so much about writing something outside fandom. I’m sure there are many factors, but I have three original works outlined at this very moment and none of them have made it past the first scene. Sigh.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

In Take It To The Limit I was wishy washy on including Zayn. I had no real use for him in the fic itself aside from a bit of back story but I love a good Ziam, and said fuck it. Well of course he became an integral part of the story line and I don’t even know how I could have wrapped it up without him.

  8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I think the most that I have grown as a writer this year is my ability to look back at things I have written in the past and not only see how far I’ve come in my skills as a writer but also see things that I had lost on my journey and wanted to bring back into my writing style. I think seeing the good is a big obstacle for writers and I am getting there. 

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Mainly I hope to overcome my fear of the original works and finish one. One that I’m proud of.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

@allwaswell16, every day. 

As a writer she amazes me with her skill, and dedication. She just about stressed me out in the fall with the gruelling schedule she put herself on. And that’s on top of her very active life outside of fandom. I was exhausted just watching her. And her works were amazing! Nothing lost in her dedication to her tight deadline and commitments. 

And as a beta/cheerleader she has never once let me down. She has never once been too busy for me strange twenty minute voice messages rambling off my outline...again... or suggesting what I should do with a character or a story line. She is my biggest fan, and my best friend. I am so lucky to have her. 

We came into this fandom together, we became writers together, betas together, and I don’t know what I’d do without her I don’t think.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Aside from my aggressive Canadian settings, not much. I’d love to write about where I live someday. I don’t know how interesting it would be but I would enjoy it. And maybe @allwaswell16

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

My favourite part about writing is the community. Hands down. If you write or want to write, find people, hopefully people you can trust because sadly there’s assholes out there, but talk about writing. It doesn’t even have to be about your own. It’s fun, it’s inspiring. It’s encouraging. 

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I have my Big Bang, That’s What I’m Here For. It’s farmer Louis which will have a little bit more me in it I guess. But I got my artist and she’s wonderful and I am so excited to finish it and have it available for everyone to see. 

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read.

THIS IS SO STRESSFUL. I hate tagging people. Ok, @canadianlarrie, @magicalrocketships, @myownsparknow

*All answers should be about works published in 2018. Also, you can skip any questions you hate or don’t want to answer, but please leave them on the list so that others can do them if they want.

[fairest]

DIDN’T GO TO TWITTER YESTERDAY - September 12, 2018

Find your country. 

In the American food court of O’Hare’s Terminal 3, eating my bean & whole egg burrito from Burrito Beach, I thought, the Viet Cong were the Dirt Bag left of their time.

Except the Viet Cong knew how to kill red state Americans.

(At that time red states were blue, weird.)

The only thing the Dirt Bag left knows how to do is put two pictures side by side on a timeline.

But there is hope.

Maybe once, in the past, all the Viet Cong could do was tweet, too.

Maybe it’s only the beginning for the Dirt Bag Left and at the beginning there is only talking, organizing.

Right now it’s still the Truman years.

Dewey defeats Truman, Clinton defeats Trump.

Right now it’s still the French colonizing the American mind (all these poems hurt my feelings and all the Marx bullshit) and in 50 years we will find the right American words and we will remember how to die.

Project for an extremely online leftist: Google Image Viet Cong & Google Image Dirt Bag Left and place the images side by side on Twitter.

I have this note here: On the airplane, the milf reads her thriller.

I have this note here from long ago: a male pilot who misses his flight reading a romance novel.

Find your country.

Today, my wife’s 34th birthday, I saw a young man sitting on the curb, coming to the end of a novel.

The streets smelled of a rain that had passed over.

The farmer’s market band was singing: find. your. country. find your. country.

My wife was holding our son.

We were warmed by the cool sun, my honesty.

What my honesty has done to my perception, how it has allowed me to see things which I could never look at, because someone else was looking.

I asked my wife, is that The Corrections or The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay? And my wife said, it’s The Corrections.

Writers always look at the books people are reading.

In fact it’s one of the only things a writer can do.

It is hard for me to edit my novel during this outpouring because the characters in my third person omniscient novel live to deceive themselves, but here, for this waterworks, I am admitting myself (admit one) in the first person.

I was watching the farmer’s market band and thinking to myself, musician is the only honorable profession, everyone else is a scab.

How can you face yourself, sitting there looking at Visio and TweetDeck, when you could just as easily pick up that guitar and strum.

I can still see the couch where I finished The Corrections, a cheap college couch, I cried on the last page.

I only remember one sentence, it’s the only sentence I almost remember from a Franzen novel: ‘she was going to make some changes in her life’.

It comes at the very end. It’s about the character Enid Franzen. Chip Franzen’s mommy. 

The novel ends on a note of supreme, mainstream hope, an almost Bellovian hope.

Nothing says hope more than making changes.

Hope: One day Mr. Sammler goes to bed with the right papers.

Who was the Tolstoy of the Jews? 

Franzen the Great. Our last great male Jewish novelist.

It was also the couch where AbercrombieAnnie1983 (the best screw[s]of my life) told me she had herpes, and I said so I can’t see you anymore (I can’t fuck you anymore) I can’t love you anymore (I won’t fuck you with a disease). 

I can still smell Annie’s pussy and now you can too. It wasn’t odorless like Kardashian pussy, it had a focused smell.

I used to write things like that in MFA school and people would look at me with hatred, disgust, like they were my grandmother, so I tried to stop doing it.

Style is what you are trying to stop doing?

All of that was in my head for different periods of time and different amounts of headspace, standing in the cool sun listening to the farmer’s market band run through the changes for Find Your Country, on my wife’s birthday.

My wife is a the one. 

That’s not a typo, my wife is a ‘the one’.

It took Karl Ove 240 or so pages to leave his wife, go back to his MFA school, propose love to his mistress or some girl he used to know in college…. 

It would take me eleven million words to leave my wife.

It’s just hard to imagine.

When I see my wife’s friends I think, you gals have aged. When I see my wife she looks the same as she did the day before I met her.

As a good man (I am a good man, my father is a great man, my grandfather was an OK man, his father was a bad, bad man) I searched long and hard for a the one and when I find a the one my memory was erased.

Even AbercrombieAnnie1983 (in 2001) is gone.

It takes 5-7 generations for the badness of man to reach full flavor.

For best results, drink 3 to 4 generations per day.

I read a clearly engaging essay yesterday by Charles Finch … who I know in real life … hi Charles ... but he is not the Charles I mentioned yesterday ... who said ... critics are bitter people … about Karl Ove and it reminded me how part of Karl Ove’s Q&A … like when an indie bookstore talks to Karl Ove … what they Q&A about … is that he “gave up” on art.

Like he “gave up” on art the way Henry Miller gave up on art when he broke the sound barrier of the autobiographical novel, but like Andy told me that time in Vilnius, nobody reads Henry Miller anymore, Stuart, and I added in my own head, not even me.

Miller once said it got to the point of madness where no matter what I said about the man I could have easily have said the exact opposite.

Although I’m back in New York … that’s why I was at the airport this morning thinking about the Viet Cong … and I always bring Aller Retour New York in my bag when I come back, although I haven’t opened it for 12 years or so, and I didn’t bring it this time, I brought Eros the Bittersweet instead, which got Burrito Beach red salsa sauce on it and now is kind of fucked up.

Karl Ove fits easily into Algren’s criticism of Henry Miller: the problem with Karl Ove is that he thinks he thinks.

Much more than Miller himself does.

That’s my problem. I think I think.

This reminds me a lot of David Frum.

I feel like I made fun of David Frum the last few days but I don’t know David Frum.

Making fun of people you don’t know is for people who go to Twitter. 

I didn’t go to Twitter yesterday.

Sorry David Frum.

Thought about tweeting yesterday: 

At the Tribeca Target, my wife said even the mannequins are fat now, and I told her she should tweet that. I’m not going to tweet it’s insane that Tribeca has a Target.

I came to this sentence in Charles’ essay, which gave me a painful pang of recognition: writers who leave more questions than they answer.

I thought to myself, am I a desperate amateur who thinks he thinks and leaves more questions than I answer?

I wrote a humor piece … the only literary criticism possible for me … since literature is hilarious … about Karl Ove … this was like five years ago … I wrote it in Managua … because Dario is boring in English … it was about why Karl Ove is famous … because people like to say ‘Karl Ove’ … you know … like the Seinfeld joke about salsa … that people only like salsa because they like to say salsa … you know I’d been to parties … and people said Karl Ove … but when they said Karl Ove they didn’t mean Karl Ove … they meant themselves … like when they say David Foster Wallace they don’t mean David Foster Wallace … they mean themselves … I did a search for the unpublished article a few moments ago … I was going to send it to HTMLGiant or The Awl at the time … I must’ve erased it … if you’re interested, I’ll leave a broken link to it in show notes.

Giving up is something only men can do.

I have this note here: something only men can do.

I have this note here: A list of verbs from mammals before humans that humans can also do but it’s just the kind of “good writing” with “strong, interesting verbs”: crawl, pounce, slither, wag, others? Use them during editing process.

Women are not allowed to give up.

Men are allowed to give up when they want to harness creativity.

That Picasso line … it took me a lifetime to learn how to paint like a child … if a woman said that she would be laughed out of the salon.

Don’t paint like a child, grow up, paint like a man.

Sometimes I wonder if female writers are burning up, they have ten thousand words to go, and they look over at their husband, and he’s fast asleep. 

I don’t give up.

I am trying pretty hard right now.

I detest creativity.

I am uninterested in the expanding of my mind I want a long, drawn out compression that lasts longer they I could with AbercrombieAnnie1983.

Creativity takes me always from behind. 

It’s weird my president is mad at Nike, they make a shoe called Air Force One, then again he likes his own plane.

Creativity takes a step back for a moment, long after I am miles ahead.  

I am scared of creativity. 

American writers spend a long time being afraid of advertising.

It takes an American writer 900,000 private words before they can say to themselves: fuck advertising.

The Charles Mingus composition Myself When I Am Real, how does it go again, is it a vamp or a romp? Is it a song, or a book? 

For the longest time as a child I would think to myself, I am not creative enough.

I believe in God, saints, angles—the triune stumbling block to creativity. But I don’t believe in fairies, goblins, witches, Batman, the ruling class, late capitalism, planets with more than one moon … Luke Skywalker’s farming planet … I never believed that shit.

If a woman gave up on art man would say, cool have a kid.

I have a note here about men’s bodies that make my cock move: the young falafeltarian waiters wear tight white polos. Does a man still starch a polo these days? My fantasy: their nails clipped in half-moons.

I wrote my wife a card for her birthday.

Happy birthday my love. The wine was dark. The food clean. The service sucked. The conversation spoke to us. There will never be another you.

I wrote her a card from our son, too.

I am scared to die for my country. 

My son might not be. 

I wrote it out with my right hand to be cute (editor’s note: the desperate amateur who thinks he thinks asking more questions than he can answer is, IRL, a lefty). 

Writing the card backward was a notable experience.

I fucked up cute all words except the word Mommy. 

I write mommy almost if not equally well with my right hand as with my left. 

Maybe it’s because I have so much hope.

I have so much hope for the world, my son, my wife, my mommy even though she is old.

My mama’s got cancer in her breast, don’t ask me why I’m motherfucking stressed, things done changed.

I hug my wife, between us our son.

Find Your Country.

Hold your influences close.

Hold your closest influence closer.