#parsnip wc

[lemnnshark]

"On Vicky's Facebook, Parsnip is a light golden-brown tom with small, dark spots on his coat and yellow eyes."

[eggfeather]

parsnip

[letyachan]

410.Parsnip

[marmosetpaw]

[honey-crypt]

slowburn elliott x farmer please please please please... (falls to my knees) strangers to mutuals to friends to lovers (explodes)

i only ask for angst to comfort and a lot of romantic tension go crazy w this if u feel like it

a/n: y'all... i present to you... my magnus opus... 3 days of work... maybe 50 or so hours dedicated to this... please... please enjoy

wc: 10.1k

features: slow burn (strap in), mentions of war, strangers to lovers, romance that will make you melt, minor spoilers for year 2 of sdv and sdv expanded, elliott cries a lot, imposter syndrome, elliott is a SAPPY SAP OF A MAN WHO LOVES YOU LOTS, i pull from my own sdv worldbuilding/elliott lorebuilding for this

summary: a box of cereal. the spirit eve's maze. a rowboat's maiden voyage. these are just a few moments that define your love story with elliott.

★ chapters in a story called life - an elliott x farmer slow burn piece ★

Chapter 1: First Encounters

A well-manicured hand reached out for the box of cereal at the same time as you, calloused knuckles brushing against your hand. In one swift motion, the hand plucked the last cereal off the shelf. You let out a surprised gasp and whipped your head towards the cereal thief, “Hey!” you exclaimed, ready to reprimand them but your words fell short at the sight of the individual in question. 

Long fiery red hair draped over their shoulders and emerald eyes bore into your soul, as the cereal thief adjusted their grip on the box, “I apologize,” their voice hummed out at a warm baritone pitch, “You seemed… to be struggling with getting the cereal box. I wanted to assist,” the man, at least you assumed them to be a man with their chiseled jawline and overall physique, handed the box of cereal over to you, “Apologies for any miscommunication, I simply wished to help,” his word choice was eloquent, unnecessarily eloquent. 

“Oh, uh,” you took the cereal box and dropped it in your shopping basket, “Thanks.”

“Of course,” the stranger flashed you their pearly whites, “Have a pleasant day,” he walked off to the next aisle in Pierre’s General Store. You looked back at your box of cereal then went about your merry way, finishing up your grocery shopping for that week. 

Chapter 2: Run-in at the Beach 

The local fisherman Willy ordered a bundle of parsnips from your farm and you were able to harvest them today, your first of many orders set for delivery. You tied up the sack of parsnips with a pretty red ribbon and dropped them in your bag, ready to make the trek through town to deliver your vegetables and produce. 

After running through town like a headless chicken and delivering orders to the likes of Pierre, Gus, and Jodi, you crossed over the bridge and onto the beach. Despite living in Pelican Town for almost a week, you never stepped foot on the beach until now. The ebb and flow of the waves greeted you, as you approached Willy on the nearby pier. The old fisher released his rod back in, no fish on the hook, when he saw you walking up, “Ahoy, (Y/N). I take it that yer got me order of parsnips?”

“Yes, sir!” you gave him a salute and pulled out the sack of parsnips before handing it over to Willy, “Hope they’re up to your standards.”

“If yer anything like yer dear old grandpa, I’m sure that these parsnips will be golden,” the fisherman reassured you with a belly laugh, “Here’s a few extra G for yer troubles. Go get yerself a nice drink at the saloon later,” he placed about 500G in your hand, “I best be gettin’ back to fishin’, you have a good day, alright?”

“Thanks, Willy, I’ll do my best,” you gave Willy a nod before exiting the pier. Stepping back on shore, you inhaled a fresh breath of sea air and stretched out your legs, sore from running around for so long. You were about to make your way back to town when you noticed a familiar redhead by a fire pit to your right. The redhead sat by the fire pit, a towel beneath him and his shoes set aside. The sea breeze ruffled his ponytail, as the man peered silently out into the ocean. 

I shouldn’t bother him, you reasoned with yourself, He seems busy. You turned your heel towards the cobblestone pathway, only to hear the redhead call out to you, “Oh! Hello, there!” Shit, okay, now I have to talk to him. You turned your attention back on the man on the shore, “Er, hello there.”

His eyes fell onto your delivery bag, “Ah!” he broke out into a smile, “The new farmer we’ve all been expecting and whose arrival has sparked many a conversation,” you made your way to his side and plopped down next to him, “How did you know that I’m the new farmer?”

“Your bag sports your farm’s name,” the man pointed to the embroidered letters on your grandpa’s old bag, clearly showcasing the name of the farm. Your face warmed up with mild embarrassment and you quickly fanned your cheeks, “Oh, yes… makes sense,” Yoba, I’m so- ugh! Silly? Yeah, I’m silly and trying not to make a fool of myself in front of such a… handsome? Yeah, he’s handsome, alright. Handsome man. Okay, please stop yapping-

“We briefly met at Pierre’s earlier this week but I never had the opportunity to introduce myself,” the well groomed man broke you out of your internal monologue and extended a hand to you, “I’m Elliott. I live by the little cabin on the beach,” the man- no, Elliott- gestured to the cabin behind the two of you, its exterior weathered from the elements, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You eyed his hand and grasped it, surprisingly rough to the touch. The two of you exchanged a handshake, as you introduced yourself to Elliott, “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Chapter 3: Writer’s Block

You stood outside Elliott’s cabin, clutching a bag of freshly grown potatoes in your hand. Another day, another round of deliveries; at least, you got to deliver to a friendly face. You knocked on the door, only for it to slowly creak open. Cautiously, you entered the cabin and called out to the redhead, “Hello? Elliott, are you home?”

The cabin was surprisingly under-decorated and somewhat shoddy, a lone bed in the far corner of the room with a piano beside it. In the corner closest to you, Elliott hunched over his desk, the sound of pen scrubbing echoing throughout the cabin’s old walls. You called out to Elliott once more, “Elliott?” he perked up at the sound of your voice, “Ah! (Y/N)!” he rose from his desk, “What a surprise to have you in my…” his voice trailed off, “…humble abode! What do I owe the pleasure of your visit to?”

“Just dropping off your order,” you set the bag of potatoes on the closest available space, “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, the usual,” hummed Elliott, “I’m attempting to narrow down how to address this one scene in my novel.”

“You’re a writer?” you raised your eyebrows, trying to see if you can catch a glimpse of his work. Elliott hovered by his desk and brushed a few loose papers over his work, “Yes, yes I am. It’s a bit of a funny story, but I actually moved to Pelican Town to pursue my writing career.”

“Oh, really? How come?” you asked.

Elliott placed his hands on the desk and leaned on it for support, “I supposed a life of solitude would impose some… literary genius upon me, like the great Ernest Hemingway. Yet, I’m at a standstill—” he cleared his throat, “Well, in all honesty, I’ve been at a standstill for the past two or so weeks with this one scene and I’m afraid that I’m losing steam.”

You frowned, “Yikes, that really sucks,” you moved closer to the writing desk, “Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes? Like a new perspective.”

Elliott’s eyes twinkled at your suggestion, “A most excellent idea!” he hurriedly gathered up his notes and shoved them into your hands, “Alright, the scene I’m at an impasse with is when Clara confronts Horatio about his late lover. I’m not sure if I should go with a tame heart to heart or something along the lines of a miscommunication gone awry.”

You read through the passages, familiarizing yourself with Elliott’s work. He wrote in a style similar to the aforementioned Hemingway, but his vivid imagery and passionate dialogue left you with a sense of awe and a desire for more. You got to the scene Elliott was stuck on, thumbing between earlier scenes and scanning the pages. Finally, you spoke up and suggested to Elliott, “Given Clara’s kind demeanour and Horatio’s sensitivity, I would go with the heart to heart option.”

Elliott broke out into a grin, “Splendid! You’re absolutely right!” he grabbed the papers and set them back on the desk, “Many thanks for your assistance, (Y/N). I truly appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you flashed him a smile and a thumbs up, “Happy to help.”

Chapter 4: The Flower Dance

You stood by the assortment of refreshments and finger foods, nursing a glass of sparkling cider. Every few minutes, you would mindlessly adjust your flower brooch or take a sip from your glass. Laughter and chatter filled the air, as the residents of Pelican Town joined the day’s festivities. 

You scanned the crowd and found Elliott by the river, standing beside Leah and talking about something, Probably art. Not wanting to remain idle for another moment longer, you made a beeline towards the pair of redheads and greeted them nonchalantly, “Hey, Leah. Hey, Elliott.”

“Hi, (Y/N)!” the artist returned the greeting while Elliott waved at you, “Good day, (Y/N). Are you enjoying the festivities?”

“As much as I can without dancing,” you hummed, finishing off your glass. Elliott nodded, “You make a good point. This is the Flower Dance, there’s not much planned beyond dancing.”

“Speaking of dancing, are you two dancing with anyone?” you asked the pair of redheads.

“We’ll be dancing together like we did last year,” answered Elliott. For some reason, your chest tightened at his response, but you brushed it off as allergies. Elliott fixed his tie, “We best be on our way, Leah. The dance will be starting soon.”

“I’ll catch up with you in a sec!” replied Leah, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I wanna chat with (Y/N) for a bit.”

“Okay,” the writer smiled at the two of you, “It’s always a pleasure to see you, (Y/N), and Leah, I’ll be in the main area whenever you’re ready,” he walked off without another word, as you stared longingly at his fading figure. Leah nudged you in the side, “You should dance with him instead.”

“I should?” you blinked, “But you two already agreed on dancing with each other.”

“I don’t mind passing the torch to you,” the artist nudged you once more. Yet, you shook your head and answered, “I rather not. I’m not much of a dancer anyway.”

Leah puffed out her cheeks and exhaled before stating, “You two would make a cute couple.”

You eyed Elliott in the distance and mulled over Leah’s words, “You think so?” you found yourself smiling in unison with Elliott, as the writer engaged in light banter with Willy. 

“Yeah,” the artist nodded, “I think so.”

Chapter 5: Drinking Buddies

Friday nights at the Stardrop Saloon were always the most rambunctious, at least two thirds of Pelican Town packed inside. You entered the saloon, hungry for a meal after a long day’s work, and saw a familiar figure in a blue shirt and suspenders. Elliott turned his head and grinned at the sight of you, “(Y/N), my friend! Please, have a seat with me.”

You took a seat beside Elliott at the bar, “Hey El,” the writer’s grin grew in size at the nickname, “You enjoying your Friday evening?”

“Absolutely,” answered Elliott, “Well, I must admit that it has gotten better since you arrived. It’s always a joy to see you.”

Your face heated up at his words, but you brushed it off with a laugh, “You’re sweet.”

“Of course,” the writer responded. Elliott then waved Gus over, “Hello, Gus, my friend! May I have two beers?” to which the bartender nodded, “Two beers, coming right up,” and poured two pints of beer from the tap, “Enjoy!”

“Thank you,” the redhead slid over some G to pay for the beers, enough leftover to provide Gus and Emily with some solid tips. Elliott passed one of the beers to you, “For you.”

“Why, aren’t you generous?” you chuckled, happily accepting the beer. You clutched the pint tight in your hand and Elliott raised his up towards you, “I propose a toast,” the writer announced. You held yours up, “To what?” you asked. Elliott smiled, “To our friendship.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your expression nearly soured- you weren’t sure why, though- but nonetheless, you nodded in agreement, “To our friendship,” and clinked glasses with Elliott. 

As the night went on and after a few more beers, you and Elliott were completely hammered. You could hold your liquor, of course, but the sight of Elliott merrily dancing and humming a tune made you break out in laughter and let loose. He’s cute when he’s silly. 

Chapter 6: Dance of the Moonlight Jellies 

You returned to the pier for, what local scientist Demetrius referred to as, an ‘utmost special occasion’. The occasion in question? It happened to be the annual event where moonlight jellyfish would visit the pier. You had vague memories of experiencing the event when you were a little kid with your grandpa, you remembered the fond look he had when the jellyfish would pass by.

You approached the edge of the pier near Willy’s shop and noticed Elliott looking out into the sea with that same longing look you saw the first time you properly met the tall redhead. Gently, you tapped him on the shoulder, “Hi, Elliott.”

“Oh, hello, (Y/N),” his tone was much more… serious? No, it was somewhat sad. You frowned, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited for the jellies?”

“I am,” he responded, as the summer breeze ruffled his ponytail, “I’m excited to the point of grief,” your frown deepened and you questioned Elliott, “What do you mean?”

Elliott scooted over so you had more room to stand, you stood by him while he explained, “We pollute the world so much, (Y/N), especially here with Joja… I see Joja CDs and Colas washed up on shore all the time and I fear the worst,” his eyes glistened with pain, “I fear that we won’t see these magnificent creatures unless we take action and hold Joja accountable for their actions.”

You let out a low hum of agreement, it reminded you of your days at Joja Co. and the stories you heard from your coworkers about the higher ups bypassing environmental protections with some hush money. It was part of the reason why you left Joja, other than the fact that it was sucking the life out of you. The day you left Joja Co. was the day you freed yourself from the chains of society. Just like Grandpa wanted. 

“I’m sure we can,” you offered reassurance to Elliott, “I believe in us, I believe that we ultimately make the right decision.”

Elliott nodded, “Thank you, (Y/N),” he looked back at the ocean, “I hope so.”

You were about to retort when Lewis announced that the event was starting, turning your attention to the mayor. Lewis released the little boat towards the sea, you watched with bated breath for the jellyfish to arrive. Your hand brushed against Elliott’s, as the town witnessed the Moonlight Jellies appear. Elliott’s pinkly slowly reached out for yours, you timidly locked pinkies with the writer, as you enjoyed the sight of the beautiful jellies. 

Maybe, one day you’d have the courage to hold his hand. 

Chapter 7: Roadblocks 

Elliott was a no-show to your weekly outing to the Stardrop Saloon and it left you concerned. He was always so punctual and he always told you ahead of time if he couldn’t make it to an event. You worried that he was sick so you left the saloon and headed to the clinic. 

The overhead bell in the door chimed when you entered, signaling your arrival to Harvey. The town doctor gave you a wave, “Hello, (Y/N),” he greeted you, “How are you today? Are you feeling unwell? Injured?” 

“No, no! I’m okay!” you explained, “I was just wondering if you had any over-the-counter medicine. I think Elliott might be sick.”

“Oh!” the doctor let out a relieved sigh, “Well, I’m glad you’re well. Let me see what I got in stock,” he left the waiting room of the clinic and after a few moments, Harvey returned with a box of medicine, “I have this generic medicine in stock. It should help with most symptoms of illness.”

“Thanks, Dr. Harvey,” you handed him some G, to which Harvey gave you the medicine in exchange, “Have a good one.”

“You, too,” the doctor replied, as he put the G in the front desk’s cash register, “And remember to stay healthy! I’m here if you need anything.”

You flashed him a thumbs up and exited the clinic, heading off to Elliott’s cabin with a determined step in your stride. Upon arriving at the cabin, you knocked on the door, “Elliott?” you called out to your friend, “Elliott, it’s me. Are you alright?”

You heard shuffling and slowly, the door creaked open to reveal a dishevelled Elliott. His usual tan was replaced by a washed out pale, as if he hadn’t stepped outside his cabin in days. He sported heavy eye bags and an exhausted expression, “Hello, (Y/N)…” the writer rubbed his eyes, “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“This hour?” you blinked with bewilderment, “El, it’s 5pm. What time do you think it is?”

“Oh, dear,” he let out a weary chuckle, “I must have the times mixed up. I apologize, but I should go back to work. I’ll be free to chat another day,” the redhead proceeded to shut the door, but you stopped it with your foot, “Elliott,” your voice was strained with worry, “You missed our saloon hangout. You never miss an event without telling me,” you held up the medicine, “So I was worried that you got sick… I got you medicine.”

Elliott gawked at the sight of your worried expression and the box of medicine, “Oh, (Y/N), I apologize… I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m not sick or anything, I just have been so wrapped up in my work that I lost track of time.”

“Elliott,” you pushed the door open with your foot, desperate to reach out to your friend, “When’s the last time you got any sleep? Yoba, when’s the last time you went outside?”

Elliott’s freckled cheeks turned red at your questions, “I, er…” he stepped back and allowed you passage inside. The inside of the cabin was dimly lit, minus the light at Elliott’s writing desk. His trash can was overfilled with crumpled up papers, broken quills, and empty bottles of ink. You set the medicine by his nightstand and asked Elliott, “How long have you been writing?”

“I lost track of time,” he answered, taking a seat at his desk. Elliott took out a fresh quill and bottle of ink, dipping the quill into the ink and writing. Yet, the quill snapped and the man who prided himself on his elegance let out a stream of curses. He shoved the papers aside and laid his head on the desk, utterly defeated. You frowned deeply and placed your hand on Elliott’s back, rubbing it tenderly, “El… Talk to me. What’s been going on?”

A soft sniffle reached your ears, as Elliott lifted his head up and exposed his watery eyes to you, “(Y/N), it’s awful. I’m awful!” he turned his body towards you and hugged your waist, “I can’t write for- I can’t write for shit, (Y/N)!” his cursing caught you off guard, but you made no comment, as the writer continued to lament, “It’s been almost two years and I haven’t completed this damn book! I- I-” he buried his face into your shirt and sobbed, “I want to give up, (Y/N). I want to throw it all away.”

You held the back of Elliott’s head in your hand and stroked it, as the redhead cried his heart out. Yoba, how it broke your heart to see him in such… agony. You remained silent while he cried, wanting to give him time. Soon, the sobs subsided and Elliott pulled away from you, his cheeks stained with tears, “I- I apologize,” he looked flustered, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey,” you cupped his face in your hands and playfully squeezed his cheeks, “You’re my friend- Yoba, you’re one of my best friends. You’re allowed to lean on me for support, you’re allowed to cry in my presence,” you released your hold on his cheeks, “I’m here for you.”

Elliott sniffled and wiped away any remaining tears, “You truly are my muse,” he mumbled under his breath. Your chest tightened at his comment, “Huh?” you asked. Elliott’s eyes widened, not realizing that he made that comment aloud, “Oh, uhm- Apologies, it was nothing.”

“Oh,” you did your best to hide your disappointment. Maybe I misheard? “You need a break,” you changed the subject, “You can’t keep pushing yourself when you’re so low on steam,” you gave the writer a pat on the shoulder, “So how about you change your clothes and meet me outside, okay? We’re going to the saloon.”

Elliott nodded in confirmation, “That sounds like a marvelous idea. I’ll just be a moment,” he got up from his writing desk and walked off to his dresser. You took that as your cue to leave the cabin, wanting to give the redhead privacy to change. Although, I wouldn’t mind looking- you smacked your cheeks together, Hey! Don’t think that! You then proceeded to leave the cabin, not wanting to be consumed by thoughts of seeing your best friend naked.

Chapter 8: Spirit’s Eve

Jack-o’-lanterns and other spooky decor lined the pathway into the town square, as you entered Pelican Town for Spirit’s Eve. You dressed up as an old-timey sailor, a simple but classical costume. The town square was buzzing with chatter and the occasional creak of… skeleton bones? You peered out into the distance and sure enough, there were two skeletons in a cage. 

To your surprise, one of the onlookers happened to be Elliott, dressed up in a costume that resembled the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland. I didn’t realize he was into the spooky. You waltzed up to him and tapped him on the shoulder, “Hey, El. Enjoying the display?”

Elliott whipped his body around to face you, his face deathly pale, “Er, I don’t believe I am enjoying the display,” he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I mean to alarm you, but I think those are real skeletons.”

You stifled back a snort, “Oh, yeah?” you eyed the skeletons, as they shuffled about the cage, “I think so, too.”

Elliott audibly gulped and appeared to be on the verge of fainting, “Oh, dear. I think I may need a drink. Care to join me?”

“I would be honored,” you replied. The two of you walked off to the assortment of fall-themed foods and drinks. Elliott grabbed himself a glass of pumpkin ale while you got some apple cider. He slammed the drink back in one or two gulps and exhaled in satisfaction, “That hits the spot,” he poured himself another pumpkin ale, “I needed something to take the edge off after seeing those… creatures,” he shivered. 

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a scaredy cat,” you hummed, taking a sip from your glass of apple cider. Elliott pouted, “It’s perfectly reasonable to be cautious around creatures of the undead,” he protested to you. In exchange, you let out a snort and stated, “It’s okay to be a scaredy cat.”

Elliott rolled his eyes and took another swing of his ale, “I’ll prove to you that I’m not a scaredy cat!” he proclaimed. You eyed him up with curiosity, “Oh, yeah? How so, tough guy?” his cheeks were flushed at your usage of tough guy and he responded, “By completing the maze! I hear that it’s especially spooky,” the redhead pointed to the maze in the distance. He was right, it did look especially spooky. 

“Wanna make this a bet?” you offered to Elliott. The writer’s eyes twinkled with excitement, “Depends on the bet, all I ask is that there’s no skinny dipping involved. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I had to do that.”

Oh, I can imagine, “First one to finish the maze gets an IOU from the loser,” you proposed the bet to Elliott, “Other than skinny dipping,” you added on. Elliott flashed you his signature smile, “That sounds wonderful,” he finished his ale and discarded the glass in the washing bin, “One, two, three, go!” the writer sprinted off, leaving you in the dust, “Hey!” you yelled, trying to finish your cider as quickly as you could so you could run after him. 

Soon, you found yourself in the dreaded maze, thick but neatly trimmed bushes towering before you. You passed by a few other townies in your quest to complete the maze, such as Harvey and Abigail. After confronting a few dead ends, you were positive that the area where you found Sam in had a way. The blond mentioned something off about the nearby bush, perhaps that was the key to beating Elliott.

Footsteps echoed throughout the maze, as the man in question showed up behind you, “It appears that we’re tied,” he stated, “Yet, there also appears to be another dead end.”

“I don’t think so,” you beckoned Elliott to follow you. You approached the bush near the left side of the maze and patted around the area. Your hand suddenly slipped through an opening in the bush and you grinned, “Found it!” you immediately ran through the opening, Elliott hot on your heels. You weaved and bobbed through the terrain, laughing up at a storm. 

However, you failed to notice a tree root on the path and tripped over it, barely twisting your body in time so you landed on your back and not your face. Elliott couldn’t stop himself in time and promptly fell on top of you, slamming the palms of his hands into the ground so he didn’t crush you under his weight. Time seemed to pause, as you and Elliott locked eyes with one another, so painfully close. Your eyes drifted down to his lips and you swore that he did the same. You were so close, you were so very close. 

“Are you okay?” Elliott asked, as he pushed himself off the ground and back onto his feet, much to your disappointment. You were so close, “I’m okay,” you answered. Elliott then extended a hand to you and pulled you up from the ground, you stumbled a bit but Elliott caught you in time before you could fall again. Yoba, he was so warm and gentle, it was as if you were hugging a teddy bear.

“Be careful,” he told you, “I don’t want you to get hurt,” your heart fluttered at his words, “O- Okay,” you stammered a bit, “I’ll try not to.”

“Let’s try to finish the maze,” the writer released you from the embrace. You nodded in agreement and the two of you resumed your journey through the maze in silence. Finally, after what felt like hours, you two arrived at the end of the maze, where a treasure chest laid before you. Elliott gestured to the chest, “You should have it. After all, you were the one who found the opening that got us here.”

“Are you sure?” you questioned the writer. He gave you a smile in confirmation, “I’m positive.”

You approached the treasure chest and opened it, pulling out the prize. It was a golden pumpkin! Oh how it shined so beautifully under the moonlight. You showed the golden pumpkin to Elliott, “Look here! Isn’t this neat?”

“Very neat!” he laughed, “What a wonderful prize,” the writer then pointed to a nearby mine cart, “I believe that might be our ticket out of here.”

You hopped into the mine cart and noticed there was enough room for you, “Wanna ride with me?” you asked. Elliott shook his head, “No, it’s alright. I’ll take it when it comes back.”

You did your best to hide your sadness at his rejection and responded, “Alrighty… I’ll see you later, then,” you activated the mine cart and rode back to the outside of the maze. You considered waiting for Elliott to come back, but ultimately decided against it. You needed to go home, you needed space… so you left.

After some time, Elliott returned to the outside of the maze, eager to see you. Yet, to his surprise, you were nowhere to be seen. He frowned upon the realization that you left early and went over to grab his bag so he could leave, as well. As Elliott left the festival, his bag’s zipper opened a bit, revealing a small bouquet of flowers nestled inside. 

Chapter 9: My Muse 

Things were tense between you and Elliott ever since the incident in the maze during Spirit’s Eve. Each time you would hang out or see one another, the air would be… off. Yet, neither of you would address it, much to the annoyance of Leah, who happened to know both sides of the story and was sworn to secrecy about the crushes. Poor Leah, oh how she just wanted to slam you two’s faces together so you could make up and make out. 

You knew that Leah was right, though; you had to confess sooner or later, but the idea of getting rejected by Elliott consumed any confidence you had about asking him out. Nonetheless, you bought the bouquet from Pierre’s, the traditional gift used to ask a person to be your partner in Stardew Valley. You kept the bouquet fresh with water and plant food, not wanting it to die out before you could give it to Elliott. 

You weren’t sure how this crush started nor how it flourished to the point where your mind was plagued with Elliott almost everyday. Does he feel the same or am I just a dumbass for wanting him to feel the same? That was the question on your mind since Spirit’s Eve. 

You left your farmhouse early one morning and found the flag up on your mailbox, indicating that you had mail. Setting your scythe aside, you headed over to the mail and opened it, collecting the letters inside. You thumbed through the letters, seeing one from Pierre and another from Jodi. However, you stopped when you saw a letter with all too fancy handwriting and a red wax seal on it, Elliott wrote me a letter? you carefully opened the envelope and read its contents.

Dearest (Y/N),

I’m delighted to announce that I finally finished my novel, Camelia Station! I would be the utmost grateful if you were to attend my book reading today, at 3pm in the library. If you can’t, I understand. You’re a busy person, after all. Nonetheless, I hope you can come.

— Elliott 

You grinned ear to ear at his use of ‘Dearest’, he wrote like a Victorian noble. Your eyes darted to the words underneath Elliott’s signatures, eyes wide as you read.

P.S. I have a surprise for you. 

A surprise? your mind ran through all the possibilities of what it could be, Could it be him confessing to me? you shook your head, Maybe not… but this is a good chance for me to, though. You looked down at your watch and set an alarm for a quarter to three, plenty of time to get from the farm to the library. With that all out of the way, you then went about your chores for the day. 

After hours of hard labor, your alarm went off. You ran into your farmhouse and wiped off any sweat or grime from your body, spraying yourself in body mist to conceal the smell. On your way out, you grabbed your bag and the bouquet, neatly tucking it inside the bag. 

By the time you arrived at the library, most of the town was inside, presumably for Elliott’s book reading. Yet, the man of the hour was nowhere to be seen. You scanned the room and found Leah near the front, so you slid up beside her, “Hey Leah,” you adjusted your grip on your bag, “Have you seen Elliott?”

“I did earlier,” she answered, “I think he went to the bathroom, but he’s been gone for a while.”

“Can you hold this for a second? I’ll go find him,” you passed your bag off to Leah and made your way to the bathroom. You entered the bathroom and found Elliott by the sink, gripping down on the porcelain. He was muttering something under his breath, you couldn’t make out the words, “El?” you touched his back and he nearly jumped out of his skin, “(Y/N)!” he exclaimed, “Oh, dear, you gave me a fright!”

“I knew you were a scaredy cat,” you jested. Elliott rolled his eyes, just like last time you brought up his tendency for fear. You moved next to Elliott and leaned against the sink, “Why are you hiding in the bathroom?” you asked. Elliott lowered his gaze and mumbled, “I… I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” you rested your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, “It’s your big day. I know you’re gonna do great. Everyone’s here to support you,” the redhead looked back at you, “Are you sure they’re not here to witness my demise?” You stifled back a laugh at his melodramatic question, “I promise that they’re not here to ‘witness your demise’ or anything of the sort.” 

“Promise?” he asked, his tone similar to that of a small child. You held up your pinky, “I promise,” and intertwined pinkies with Elliott. The redhead smiled weakly, but nonetheless, he was ready to perform. With you trailing behind him, Elliott entered the main area of the library and greeted everyone with his good old Elliott bravo, “Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and folks! I’m ever so honored to have you all here to celebrate the release of my book, Camelia Station.”

As Elliott babbled about his journey with writing his novel, you returned to your spot with Leah and watched with a fond twinkle in your eye at your friend. Elliott took one last deep breath and announced to the crowd, “Before I read the first chapter, there’s something I need to say…” his eyes fell on you, “I wish to thank my muse… (Y/N),” your heart began to pound like a bass drum, “Without them, I wouldn’t have completed this book. Through every hardship and challenge I faced with this process, (Y/N) was my shining light. I dedicate Camelia Station to them, so please... give them a round of applause.”

The library erupted in applause, but it was white noise to you, as you stared at Elliott in awe. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and your hand grew clammy, as you slowly melted from the writer’s sweetness. His muse… I’m his muse.

The applause slowly died down and Elliott seized the opportunity to begin the reading, “Chapter One… Your ticket, sir? Ticket collector Gozman extended a gloved hand towards the young commuter. Ah, yes. I have it right here, he replied, reaching into his coat pocket. Mortified, he discovered that the ticket was missing…”

You listened with a keen ear to Elliott’s reading, mesmerized by his storytelling. The way he switched voices for each character, the vibrato in his words, the detailed imagery transported into the world of Camelia Station. Elliott was talented, but most importantly, he was having fun with his book.

By the time Elliott finished the chapter, a few townsfolk left the library, most likely returning to their daily responsibilities. The remaining audience applauded the writer for his reading and Elliott took a bow, “Thank you, thank you! I will have signed copies for sale at the front. Once again, thank you for coming, everyone!”

You hovered by the front of the library, watching silently while some individuals like Emily and Gus bought a signed copy of Camelia Station from Elliott. Once the crowd dispersed, you approached Elliott and flashed him a cheeky grin, “See, I told you that there was nothing to worry about.”

“You were right,” the writer replied, “Most times, you are right,” you scoffed mockingly, “Most times?” to which Elliott gave you a little nudge, “You do think sea cucumbers are a lovely fish when in actuality, you’re very very very wrong.”

“C’mon! They’re just little guys!” you huffed, much to Elliott’s amusement. A comfortable silence then fell upon the two of you, as you stared into one another’s eyes. Elliott’s pupils were big as saucers, you were positive that yours were, too. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” you rested your hand against your bag, the bouquet so close to your person. With pink tinted cheeks, the redhead answered, “I meant every word.”

“Elliott…” your mouth grew dry with nerves.

“(Y/N)...” the writer whispered.

Time stopped, as you pulled the bouquet out of your bag. At the same time, Elliott pulled out an identical bouquet from his own bag. Neither of you moved or spoke, you could only stare at the opposing bouquet. Soon and in unison, you and Elliott bursted into laughter, loud enough to get a scolding look from Gunther. 

You two finished your laugh fest and smiled at one another, “Wow,” you let out a soft laugh, “We really had the same idea, huh?” the redhead nodded, “It seems so.”

“Guess that means we’re dating?”

“Well, I did have a sonnet for you to highlight your passion, beauty, and kindness, but yes, we are dating.”

Chapter 10: Feast of the Winter Star

The fall season went by in an instant and brought the snow and frigid temperatures of winter. You and Elliott had been dating for a while when the Feast of the Winter Star rolled around. 

To your surprise and joy, Lewis mailed you earlier in the season that Elliott was your secret gift receiver. Part of you wondered if Lewis did that on purpose, but given how he handled his relationship with Marnie (you unfortunately found them in a compromised position in the bushes by the bridge in town), you highly doubted it. 

Despite Camelia Station’s completion, Elliott was already on his next book, a mystery called The Blue Tower. You thought it to be fitting that you gifted him a glass dip pen; he was strict about his writing instruments and never used a laptop, despite its ease and functionality. Hopefully, this was a good compromise. In addition, Marnie’s poor ducks would no longer have to suffer with Elliott’s weekly trips to the ranch for duck feathers. I think those ducks might be afraid of Elliott now. 

The Feast of Winter brought families, friends, and lovers together in the beautifully decorated town square. The lamp posts were lined with tinsel and a thick evergreen tree stood in the center, decked out in various ornaments with a big shining star on the top. You searched the bustling square for Elliott and found him with Gus and Leah, enjoying a glass of cranberry wine.

“Surprise,” you hugged Elliott from behind and whispered in his ear. He yelped and almost dropped his wine, “Oh! (Y/N), my love! You scared me!”

“Told yah,” you cooed, “You are a scaredy cat.”

“I concede,” sighed Elliott, “I am a bit of a scaredy cat.”

“Good enough for me,” you released him from the hug and pecked him on the kiss. You then turned your attention to Leah and Gus, but they were too absorbed in conversation. Well, at least, Gus was, as he enthusiastically lectured Leah about his various techniques for cranberry sauce. Leah, on the other hand, appeared half-sleep, but managed to have perfectly timed head nods to fake engagement.

“By the way,” you perked up at Elliott’s voice, “I have something for you,” he handed you a somewhat heavy box, neatly wrapped in red paper and secured with a golden bow, “I’m your secret gift giver!”

“What a coincidence!” you giggled, as you held out your gift to Elliott, “I’m yours,” the two of you shared a laugh and Elliott mused, “Perhaps the mayor had a part in that.”

“I doubt it,” you responded, “He’s–” you felt Lewis stare daggers in your back, as if he could hear what you were about to say, “He doesn't seem like the type to meddle in romance or romantic relationships,” you looked down at your gift, “Why is this kinda… heavy?”

“Open it up, my dear, and you shall see,” stated Elliott.

“Only if we do it at the same,” you requested and Elliott nodded, “It’s a deal.”

Together, you and Elliott unwrapped your gifts, you more so ripped through yours while Elliott was meticulous with his unwrapping. Before you, there was a black box, you opened the box up and gasped at the item inside, “You didn’t!” you exclaimed, proudly showcasing the gift to the world, “You got me the Polaroid camera we saw at the antique shop in ZuZu City!”

“I did!” replied Elliott, “You looked so happy when you saw it and you mentioned how much you wanted to get back into photographing your life, so I had to get it,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Anything for my muse.”

“You’re sweet,” you chuckled, “Now, look at your gift!”

Elliott opened the thin, white box and nearly choked on his own saliva at the glass dip pen. He carefully removed the pen from the box, a beam of rainbow light shining from the glass, “Oh, (Y/N)... this is one of–” he cut himself short, “No, this is the most beautiful and thoughtful gift I have ever received,” he gave you another kiss on the forehead, “You spoil me, my dear.”

“You haven’t seen the best part yet, turn it around,” you informed Elliott. 

He turned the pen around and read the engraving, “It says…” he squinted, “The Spirit of the Valley,” he seemed a bit confused by the words and you elaborated to him, “Your writing and you, Elliott, are so deeply connected to this valley. You brought life with your writing to this valley. You brought life, joy, and peace to me. You are the spirit that’s ingrained in me and this valley.”

Elliott sniffled, tears pricking the corners of his gentle emerald eyes, “You, my muse, are intertwined with my very being. I would be utterly lacking in life’s blessings if you weren’t here,” he pulled you into a deep kiss, your hands finding their way through his long fiery hair.

“Uh, guys?” the sound of Leah’s voice interrupted the kiss, “Too much PDA.”

Chapter 11: The S.S. Granger

Spring flew by as fast as it came. You tended to your farm, interacted with those in Pelican Town, and partook in the festivities. Your first spring was one full of unknowns and uncertainties but now, you finally felt like you were part of the town and the valley. You got some good use of the camera Elliott gifted you during the Feast of the Winter Star, photographing every precious moment. Your favorite photo was the one Leah took of you and Elliott dancing at the Flower Dance. 

Soon, summer followed the peaceful spring weather with thunderstorms, heatwaves, and… green rain? Yeah, green rain happened. Only in Stardew Valley, huh? It took half of the season before nice sunny weather came and it happened to be the same day you received a somewhat cryptic letter from Elliott.

My darling,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. If you are available, please stop by the beach before noon today. I have something spectacular to show you. 

– Yours truly, Elliott 

Elliott didn’t know, but you cherished every letter he sent you, even though they were  somewhat cheesy. You went back inside your farmhouse and opened your dresser, grabbing the ornate box you kept Elliott’s letters in and placing it inside. Your eyes darted up at the wall clock, the time being around 11am or so. I need to get to the beach!

You made your way to the beach, exchanging greetings with the passing residents. When you stepped on the bridge, you noticed a man with a short crew cut and camo leaning against the bridge and admiring the river. You smiled at him, “Hi, Kent.”

The man in camo flinched at your greeting and you frowned. It was only last spring that Kent returned from the Gotoro-Ferngill War and he wasn’t adjusted yet, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

Kent shook his head, “It’s alright,” he ran a hand through his hair, “Just a reflex.”

“Gotcha,” you nodded. You eyed the river and asked Kent, “Enjoying the view?”

“I am,” he answered, “Water is… calming.”

“Agreed,” you hummed, “Well, I’m off to the beach, but I hope you have a nice day.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” replied Kent, “I wish you the same,” you bid farewell to Kent and resumed your walk to the beach. 

You soon stepped foot on the beach, as a crisp summer breeze blew through the air. You sighed with relief at the cold sensation, it was a hot summer day. Feeling energized, you scanned the beach for Elliott and found him standing outside his cabin. He broke out into a grin when he saw you, “(Y/N)! My love, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you laughed, embracing Elliott. The two of you held the other as tight as you could, “What’s the surprise?” you mumbled, voice muffled by your face in Elliott’s chest. Elliott released you from the hug and responded, “You’ll see,” he intertwined his hand with yours and led you to the pier. In the center of the pier, a rowboat bobbed against the waters. 

Elliott gestured to the boat, “I finally fixed up the old rowboat outside my cabin… with Willy’s help, of course. I’m not much of a handyman but I did give it a fresh coat of paint,” you examined the rowboat with intrigue, its mahogany coat glimmering under the sunlight. You noticed some cursive on the hull of the boat, “S.S. Granger?”

“Named after my high school English teacher, Mr. Granger,” the redhead explained, “He was the one who lit the spark of creativity and my passion for writing,” he smiled sadly at the boat, “We kept in touch after I graduated high school, but sadly, he passed away from cancer when I was finishing up my bachelors’ at East Ferngill University.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you gave Elliott’s arm a squeeze, a sign of support, “I’m sure he would be proud of the man you’ve become.”

“I hope so,” the writer sighed. Elliott shook off his melancholy and hopped onto the boat, extending a helping hand out to you, “Care to join me for its maiden voyage?”

“Of course,” you grasped Elliott’s hand and boarded the rowboat. You took a seat across from Elliott, who grabbed the oars and began rowing farther into the Gem Sea. The pier faded into the distance, as Elliott rowed the boat. By the time he stopped, you could only make out the silhouette of Stardew Valley, “Wow,” you were starstruck, “You can see the whole valley from here.”

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” the writer shuffled around a bit in his seat, “Although, I prefer the beautiful view right before my eyes.”

“You’re cheesy,” you snorted. Elliott shrugged his shoulders, “I would rather be cheesy if it means bringing a smile to your face,” you playfully nudged his arm, “You’re gonna make me melt.”

“Oh, my dear, don’t do that just yet,” Elliott cleared his throat, “I have another surprise for you,” you tilted your head with wonder, “Oh? You do?”

“I do,” the writer stated. He then secured the oars in the boat and began to recite, "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate… Rough winds do shake the darling buds of Spring…”

You leaned in closer, entranced by your boyfriend’s words, as he continued, “And summer’s lease hath too short a date… Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines… And often is his gold complexion dimm’d… And every fair from fair sometime declines…” 

The world around you two came to a standstill, “By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d… But thy eternal summer shall not fade… Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st… Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade…”

You leaned closer and closer into Elliott’s space, you could inhale his sweet pomegranate perfume, or in his words, his eau de parfum, Elliott was always a stickler with his words. He stared into your eyes, your soul, as he finished the sonnet, “When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st… So long as men can breathe or eyes can see… So long lives this, and gives life to thee.”

“Ellie…” you whispered. The writer smiled, “For the first time in my lifetime, I was at a loss for words and it was the moment I laid eyes on you at Pierre’s. You took my breath away, my love. It was only fair to share it with you in the form of one, if not, the greatest love sonnets.”

“Ellie, what are you saying?” you watched, as Elliott pulled a small, velvet box from his pant pocket, “(Y/N),” his tone was deep with emotion, “My muse, my love, my darling, my dear. I have a thousand names for you but,” he pulled a velvet box from his pants pocket, “Will you do me the highest honor and allow ‘spouse’ be one of those names?” Elliott slowly opened the box and inside, there was a Mermaid Pendant.

You covered your mouth and muffled your scream of delight before calming down enough to answer, “Yes! Yes, Elliott, I will marry you!” you embraced the redhead, nearly tackling in the process. You kissed Elliott deeply, the flames of love and passion exploding like fireworks. In that very moment, everything in the world- no, everything in the universe- was simply perfect.

Chapter 11: Wedding Bells

You fidgeted with your Mermaid’s Pendant, as Marnie and Emily added the final touches to your wedding outfit. Once they finished your outfit, you promptly walked off from the mirror in your farmhouse and began to pace around the farmhouse, “Oh my Yoba, what if he changes his mind?” you spouted off your worries. 

“I highly doubt,” answered Leah, your person of honor, “If he dares to even think about leaving you at the altar, I’ll knock some sense into him,” she held up her fists, “And I mean knock some sense into him.”

“Thanks, Leah,” you sighed, relieved. Emily, a member of your wedding party, approached you with your bouquet, a small one made of summer spangles and sunflowers you grew on the farm, “You are gonna do great, (Y/N)!” she reassured you, “I’m manifesting it for you, you will do great.”

“Thanks, Emily,” you chuckled, “I can always count on your manifestations.”

“Are you ready, dear?” Marnie asked, “It’s almost time.”

“I’m as ready as I can be,” you answered. 

You exited the farmhouse with Emily, Leah, and Marnie; the four of you making way to the entrance of the beach near Cindersap Forest. You gripped the bouquet tightly, your chest just as tight with fear. Marnie stood beside you and held out her arm, you relaxed the hold on your bouquet and locked arms with Marnie.

“You’re such a gorgeous marrier,” the rancher told you, “I’m so honored to be the one who passes you off, I hope I do your parents’ duty proud.”

Your parents couldn’t attend the wedding, your father being overseas fighting in the Gotoro-Ferngill War and your mother on the other side of the Ferngill Republic with her responsibilities at the hospital she worked at. You responded to Marnie, “You’re like a mom to me, Marnie. It felt right that you would be the one to hand me off.”

“And you’re like one of my own, (Y/N),” she retorted. You stared out towards the beach, getting a small sneak peek at the wedding arch. It’s now or never. You gave Marnie a nod and she hollered to the trio of Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail by the entrance, “It’s time!”

“Alright!” Sam cheered, “Let’s rock!” the band launched into the wedding march and you began walking to the beach with your wedding party behind you. 

Before you, the entirety of Pelican Town sat in white fold out chairs on the beach, as you followed the row of fabric towards the wedding arch. Near the front of the crowd, you spotted two familiar figures in a suit and blue dress, your parents. When you passed them, you whispered to them, “You came.”

“We did!” your mom smiled at you, “It took some phone calls, but we didn’t want to miss our angel baby’s wedding,” your dad nodded in agreement, “I can handle Gotoro grunts on the front line, but the thought of missing my only child’s wedding? That’s unacceptable. I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay!” you replied, “It’s a great surprise!” you blew kisses at your parents and continued your walk to the wedding arch. Under the arch, Willy and Gus stood by Elliott as his wedding party. Your soon-to-be husband’s back faced you and once released to the altar by Marnie, you tapped Elliott on the back, “I’m here, honey.”

Elliott turned around and audibly gasped, “My darling! You- You-” tears suddenly formed in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, “Oh, my sweet darling, you look absolutely radiant,” he leaned in to kiss you, only to have Mayor Lewis shove his hand in between you, “Mr. Lovebird! No kissing until I say so!” he proclaimed. Elliott pouted at the mayor’s interruption, but nonetheless, he pulled back. 

The two of you smiled widely at the other, your eyes shimmering with anticipation. Lewis stood behind you and he began the ceremony, “Can all attendees rise?”

The wedding guests rose from their seats and Lewis spoke to everyone, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Elliott and (Y/N). My dear friends,” he smiled at you and Elliott, “This is a new chapter in your lives, from the moment I proclaim them to be spouses to the day you die.”

“That’s the plan,” you mused, earning a few chuckles. Mayor Lewis let out a laugh, “Splendid! Then we should get right into it!” he continued with his opening remarks, but you paid no attention to him, as you found yourself lost in Elliott’s eyes. 

“Now, the marriers will exchange vows,” you perked up at the mention of vows, watching silently as Elliott pulled out a piece of parchment and unfolded it, “(Y/N)... As I mentioned before during our boat ride, I was at a loss of words when I first laid eyes on you,” he recited his vows.

He let out a shaky breath, on the verge of crying again, “And today, I am again at a loss for words. There are no words in our language that can accurately describe your beauty, your strength, your resilience, your passion, your love. (Y/N), I thank Yoba and the forces of the universe that we are here at this moment,” the redhead hastily wiped his tears away, “You are my world, (Y/N). I love you.”

A collection of ‘aws’ and cheers erupted from the audience, as they clapped for Elliott’s vows. You sniffled a bit and blinked back your own tears, “Damn,” you let out a wobbly laugh, “Your vows blew mine out of the water, honey,” you passed your bouquet to Leah and grasped Elliott’s hands, “Elliott, the day I met… I was hella pissed off that you grabbed my cereal.”

The crowd laughed and you added on, “I thought you were a dick for that, but when you explained to me that you only wanted to help… that spark of unprompted kindness lit a flame in me. As I got to know you, I found myself falling deeper and deeper in love with you. From your passion to your mannerisms to your silliness to your determination… Elliott, I can’t picture my future without you. I can’t wait to make a beautiful life with you.”

Another round of applause came from the wedding attendees and Elliott grinned at you, his eyes full of unabashed love for you. Mayor Lewis gestured for the applause to simmer down and once there was silence, he announced, “With the vows now done… It’s my honor to, on this lovely summer day, unite Elliott and (Y/N) together as one,” you squeezed Elliott’s hands, eager to hear the ‘okay’ to kiss.

“As the mayor of Pelican Town and regional bearer of the matrimonial seal…” the mayor stated, as you took a deep breath, “I now pronounce you spouses! You may kiss!” you and Elliott wasted no time when given the ‘okay’ to kiss, as Elliott dipped you and kissed you tenderly on the kiss. Cheers and hollers of joy erupted once more from the wedding attendees in celebration of your new matrimony. 

Elliott pulled you back up and finished the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. He whispered softly to you, “You’re my spouse,” to which you smiled, “And you’re my spouse,” you planted a kiss on Elliott’s cheek, “It’s time for our new chapter, isn’t it?”

“You’re right about that, my dear,” he answered, “The first chapter in our story.”

A new chapter, indeed.

...

...

...

...

...

Epilogue: Remembrance

A redheaded woman in pantsuit stood in front of the orchard, fresh fruit hanging from the trees. Besides her, two small children held each of her hands. The woman heard the sound of footsteps, as a man in farmer overalls and similar red hair approached the orchard, his work boots crunching the autumn leaves. 

“Eleanor,” the farmer greeted the well-dressed woman, “Glad to see you here,” he supported his body against the hoe, “I didn’t think you would come.”

“I may be a busy woman, but I take offense that you doubt my attendance for this day, Elias,” Eleanor scoffed at Elias, the farmer. He shrugged his shoulders and instead commented, “You brought Kenny and Quinn with you?”

“Yes,” answered Eleanor, “I thought they deserved a chance to– Heyo!” a loud voice cut into the conversation, as another redhead appeared. They dressed in casual but neat attire, a flannel wrapped around their waist and their exposed arms displaying some old scars, “Sorry, I’m late! I got held up at my logging site.”

“Late as ever, Echo,” chuckled Elias. With a pout, Echo exclaimed, “Hey! Not my fault that I had to cut down a whole forest after last week’s wildfire!”

“Enough, you two,” Eleanor stated, “Do you have the supplies?” to which Echo and Elias confirmed that they did, “Splendid,” she squatted down to her children’s levels, “Kenny, Quinn… I know this might seem scary, but Mommy’s here to keep you safe, okay? You might not understand it now, but you deserve the chance to see them.”

“Okay, Mommy,” replied Kenny and Quinn. Eleanor squeezed their hands and with that, the group entered the orchard, going deeper and deeper until they made it to their destination. Two gravestones stood proudly in the center of the orchard, a few dead fruits and flowers by them. Echo pulled out a trash bag and collected the dead items while Eleanor and Elias set down fresh pomegranates and sunflowers. 

“Mommy, where are we?” asked Quinn.

“We’re at your…” Eleanor blinked back tears, “These are your grandparents, you were very little when they went to Yoba, but they loved you both so very much.”

Kenny stared out at the gravestones and squinted, “Mommy, what do they say?”

Eleanor read the gravestone engravings aloud, “The one on the left has ‘Elliott Cunnigham’ at the top and below it, it says ‘Beloved Writer, husband, and father.’ The one on the right has ‘(Y/N) Cunningham’ with the words ‘Beloved Town Hero, spouse, and parent’,” Eleanor looked up at Echo and Elias with tears in her eyes, “Can one of you do it?”

“I got it,” answered Elias. He approached Eleanor’s side and grabbed the final offering, setting it down between the graves, “We can go if you want.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” replied Echo. Eleanor nodded in agreement, “Let’s go to the Stardrop Saloon, I think Gus would be happy to see all of us together.”

“Sounds like a great plan,” chuckled Elias. 

With everyone in tow, the siblings and their children left the orchard, leaving the gravestones at peace for another year. The final offering laid still in the space between the burial sites. 

A single box of cereal.

[babiebom]

When You Fall (III)

A/N: I have made a masterlist for sdv and in general! I don’t have many things to read yet but hopefully you want to stick around for when I do!

Tw: anxiety, mentions of death

Wc:2.8k

Previous Next Masterlist

‘To our valued JojaMart customers:

 Our team members have removed the landslide caused by our drilling operation near the mountain lake. I’d like to remind you that our drilling operation is entirely legal (pursuant to init. L61091, JojaCo Amendment). Responsible stewardship of the local environment is our top priority! 

We apologize for any inconvenience this accident may have caused.

As always, we value your continued support and patronage!

-Morris,

Joja Customer Satisfaction Representative.’

Your frown increasingly deepens as you read the letter sent by Joja. Landslide? Mountain lake? You hadn’t left your farm in days to even know that there even was a landslide. After putting the letter away, you spend your time tending to your crops. It had been a week since you had planted your parsnips, and though you were new at this, looking up the time it takes for them to grow, you think they would be ready at the end of the month, at least you hoped they would be ready to harvest then. You only had so much savings to get you through learning how to farm.

You had decided that clearing out the rest of the land would have to wait until the winter months, you had no time to learn to farm, fish, clear the farm, and now you had an entirely new place to explore when you hadn’t even ventured out past your own farm very much. You had still only been to the beach and the town, which is virtually nowhere and everywhere all at once. 

Sighing, you kick at the dirt next to the patch of parsnips you had growing, having only 15 seeds and therefore only 15 things to sell meant that you wouldn't last long at all. You knew you had to go into town at some point, and you had enough money to at least buy enough seeds so you could make money. You just wished that interacting with people wasn't something that you dreaded, it would make it a lot easier if you were at least the same level of social that you were before. 

It was difficult getting yourself to even the edge of your farm, and the second you crossed the gate your body began to feel as if it were going to cave into itself. You dragged yourself towards the town, the travel time almost doubling from your hesitation. 

The sun beamed down brightly onto the pavement, reflecting straight into your eyes. You groan as you continue on your trek into town, the sight of people making your heart sink. Hoping you would avoid everyone was dumb, but that hope didn't need to be crushed that easily. 

The closer you got, you could tell that it was just the mayor, and who you think is Maru going into the clinic. Quickening your pace, you hope he leaves you be, but knowing how old people are you doubt that will be the case. He stands in front of the clinic, off towards the side just watching what you can only tell to be absolutely nothing. Maybe he was bird watching…?

Stopping just on the edge of where he's standing, you try to think of a way to avoid him, but going all the way around, in a path that you weren't even sure existed was more trouble than what you hope is a short conversation. 

"Farmer!" His voice rings out before you can even get yourself moving again. Letting your eyes focus on him, you can see that he's looking at you curiously, as if you were someone to be studied. You force a smile to your face, walking towards him with a step so preppy you can tell that you look goofy. 

"Mayor," you approach him with a hand out, "how are you?"

"Good! Good. Say, could you come with me for a moment?"

You stare at him, wanting to drop your jaw in how unlucky you were. "Um, I was just....going to…sure." You give up rather quickly, following the man on a path behind the clinic.

You want to throw yourself on the ground and cry at the thought of going on an extra errand, but the thought is put on a backburner as the two of you approach a worn down building. 

Leaves and vines covered the windows, looping and winding in and out between loose boards and holes in the roof and walls. A large clock sat completely still, not ticking or chiming as the hands were stuck in place, reading its last working moment, time frozen for it. Chipped paint, faintly reading 'Pelican Town' makes your heart clench for the old building. It was if the town forgot about it, left it behind for nature to reclaim it. Just as you left your grandfather behind when you got too old to think coming on a farm was any fun. Just how he and your parents left you behind, stuck thinking about the past with no one there to pick up the pieces to let you still function in the future.

"What an eyesore…" Lewis looks at the old building with a look you take as disgust. You choose not to respond as the old man turns and looks at you. "This is the Pelican Town Community Center…or what's left of it anyway."

You nod, letting your eyes run over the building, it didn't look as if it had been used anytime in recent years. Or even in the last decade. You couldn't remember it being used when you were a child either. But then again, you stayed on the farm mostly. Lewis turns and looks back at the building, his face morphing into that of sadness. 

"It used to be the pride and joy of the town… always bustling with activity. Now…just look at it. It's shameful."

You fight to control your facial expression, annoyance blanketing over your form. Isn't it his job to take care of the building? Surely he could've hired someone to patch it up?

"These days, the young folk would rather sit in front of the TV than engage with the community." Again, you think, your job. It was weird he was blaming the younger generations for him not keeping up with this building.

"But listen to me, I sound like an old fool." You crack a smile, letting a laugh slip through momentarily. He looks at you in confusion, so you shake your head and motion for him to continue on his journey to the past.

"Joja corporation has been hounding me to sell them the land so they can turn it into a warehouse…Pelican Town could use the money, but there's something stopping me from selling it…I guess old timers like me get attached to relics of the past…ah well. If anyone buys a joja co membership I'm just gonna go ahead and sell it." 

He sighs as if he was really torn up about the thought of having to sell the land. Again, you have to fight to control your facial expression. He sounded more convinced that Pelican Town needed the money from selling than him being attached to the building at all. And if he was so attached why'd he let it get run down. What all was there to do in a small town like this?

"Here, let's go inside." He moves and unlocks the doors, pushing them in causing a poof of dust to fall down like a waterfall on top of your heads. You cough loudly, waving a hand in front of your face. Lewis doubles down in front of you, launched into a coughing fit from the dust. You frown, swallowing a couple times to clear your throat and sinuses. You feel your throat burn as you swallow, drier than you had ever felt it before…well not drier than when you have a sore throat but y'know. 

When the two of you are done coughing, you take a moment to look around. The inside of the Community Center was just like the outside. Taken over by nature. It was sort of beautiful to know that even when humans are long gone, Mother Earth would take everything back. But at the same time, your heart breaks again for the old building. It was obvious no one had cared for it for years. 

You could tell that the building used to be beautiful, a dusty old rug laid sort of curled up, wrinkled. The layer of dust on it covered whatever color it was supposed to be. Above that was a brick fireplace, the bricks out of place, but somehow not caved in, a plaque on top of it with dusty imprints where you guess stars are supposed to be, there are six. You wonder where the stars went, but assume someone must've stolen them. What could they have been representing, you do not know. 

Lewis looks confused as he looks around, "hmm? What's this? I guess Vincent and Jas must've been playing in here". He stares at a small hut in the furthest left corner. You stare at it for a second, a weird feeling wiggling down your spine.

Lewis makes a sound from his throat, attracting your attention. "This place is even more dilapidated than I remember."

A green thing appears behind him, causing you to jump back. It looks unlike anything you've ever seen, sort of like a little ball, if it had tiny little arms and legs, and was less round and more like dough that has been sitting on a board for a while, the bottom slightly flat. 

"What?" Lewis turns and looks to where your eyes were glued. The second he turns around, the green thing disappears, causing you to jump again and you make a noise of confusion. "What's the matter? Are you ill?"

 It's like it's impossible for you to respond, confusion taking over your senses. Instead of saying anything, you rush towards where the thing had disappeared from. What the hell…?

"You saw something? Hmm…I wouldn't be surprised if this place was full of rats." He lets out a chuckle. All you can get out is a "no". It quite obviously wasn't a rat. Unless it was green, maybe the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles got their hands on one…? No! Whatever it was was absolutely no anything you had ever seen before. 

Lewis was now in front of you, but you looked through him. What in the world was happening? Were you going crazy? 

Another one of those things popped up behind Lewis again, and this time you believe it has to be playing tricks on you. Or maybe you were losing it and having hallucinations. Terrified, and a bit annoyed, you yelp loudly. Jumping backwards. The thing didn't look dangerous, but babies aren't dangerous and they could easily give you a black eye without trying. Lewis turns again to look at what you were staring at, but again the thing disappears just as soon as he faces it. "What?" You speak aloud, confused. 

 "You're worrying me, Farmer…" Lewis lets out an awkward chuckle, so you look at him assuming from the slightly afraid look on his face that you had to look deranged. Maybe he thought you were losing it too, you had just lost your family. You would think you're crazy too. 

"Look, I think I'm going to head home. I need some lunch."

Lunch…? Just how long have you been here? You literally just walked in. Checking your watch you see that it is in fact past lunch time. You had been in there staring for like an hour and a half? Maybe that's why he thinks you're crazy.

Lewis starts towards the door, then turns and looks at you, he hesitates for a moment before speaking. 

"Hey. I'll keep this place unlocked from now on ..maybe you can help catch that rat if you have some extra time. And maybe you can stop by the Saloon tonight. Meet some people." 

He leaves you alone in the building. Strange…I'll have to come back and explore this building further. You think, starting for the door. Just before you stop and turn around or maybe I can explore now. 

Pierre's closed probably later than it is right now, he had to be open for a little while longer at least, and the walk was less than five minutes to get up here. You had time…right?

You go further inside, passing the small hut and into the hallway. There's two doors, and then the hallway progresses. With fear in your heart, you choose to go into the door on your right and are met with an empty pantry, the shelves broken and splintered across the floor. 

Finding nothing, you return back into the hallway, moving to the door on your left. This time the room is bigger. The purple carpet is torn up as well as the blue wallpaper. The room is dark and empty except for an empty bookshelf, some piles of wood and a single glowing golden scroll in the middle of the floor.

Stepping into the room you get the same shiver that you got when you had first seen the little thing and the hut, but this time it's stronger, as if it were pulling your spine towards the scroll. The light was bright as you neared, yet somehow it didn't burn your eyes. It felt more…comforting than scary, but that didn't stop your heart from beating erratically in your chest. 

Picking it up, you can't read anything on the parchment. It looks like drawings, and even then you can't tell what they're supposed to be. Putting the scroll back down where it was, you leave the room deciding that exploring the rest of the place could wait for another day. Looking at your watch you realize that you had stayed another hour in the building.

Time had gone by way too fast, and you wonder just how long you would've been staring at that golden parchment had you not remembered that you needed to leave to get to the store. 

The sun was still bright when you left though you could tell that it would begin to go down soon, so you ran hoping that the store wasn't closed. Luckily you made it to the store in time, almost falling into the doors in your rush. The store was basically empty, except for a man at the counter. 

It was smaller than you thought it would be. Awkwardly you send a smile to the man and slink into the aisles, looking for any seeds you could buy. Luckily, finding them wasn't hard, especially with a great big SEEDS sign marking where they are. You grab a bunch of each kind, reading their descriptions and grow time as you walk up to the counter. 

"Hey, it's Y/N, the new farmer! I'm Pierre, owner of this general store. If you're looking for seeds, my shop is the place to go!" He looks down at your bunch of seeds happily and you almost immediately decide that you dislike the man. Who goes into an advertisement when introducing yourself?

"I'll also buy produce from you for a good price! A little agriculture could really inject new life into the local economy."

You nod and watch him scan your seeds silently, not really in the mood to talk. Your stomach growls loudly, and you frown looking away cringing slightly. Pierre laughs as he bags your seeds. "Looks like someone's hungry! Are you gonna stop by the Saloon later?" 

You swallow and nod, rummaging around in your wallet for money. You didn't want to make the situation awkward, but you also couldn't be arsed about making an effort especially when you've already decided you disliked the man. Taking your bag, you call out a goodbye as you rush from the building. With what little sunlight you had left you could use it to work before you showed the town your face.

Working took the rest of the day, by the time you were planting your new seeds the sun had long been down. Your stomach was growling constantly and louder every passing second. Unfortunately you had run out of little things you could eat, and you don't think if you even had the snacks that they would give your stomach what it wants. 

As you approach the Saloon, you're happy you decided to go here on a weekday, though it would probably be just as busy as it'll ever be because what else is there to do in a small town? The second you open the door, you're hit with the smell of food and bright lights.

It makes you nauseous and doubly hungry. Your eyes focus on the smiling face of a man behind the counter. The sight of him fills you with warmth and comfort, almost instantly calming your nerves. Well calming them mostly. 

"Well hello there! I'm Gus, chef and owner of the Stardrop Saloon." 

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

A Very Midwest Emo Yuletide

I didn't intend on posting this on Christmas, but here we are! Oh and hi @alwaysjustmina I believe I promised you this...

Found-family Yuletide meal, set in the Midwest Emo Ghouls AU. Mountain and Swiss are hosting the annual Yuletide meal and everyone's invited, even a special guest from New York...

Some Ghroup Yuletide meal found family fluff, not at all inspired by my uni-reunion-christmas-meal last weekend.

Rating: General wc: ~ 1600

Read below the cut or on AO3!

For the Midwest Emo AU, when there's multiple career hcs on the tag I chose my favorite, likewise sorry for any Britishisms. I’m saying this has the same “US-UK-hodgepodge" vibes as Sex Education did on Netflix...

“Give me a hand, Mount!” called Swiss, as he dragged a freshly-felled fir tree through the door. As always he’d left it to the last minute and, as always, he’d overestimated the size of tree they could realistically fit inside their low-ceilinged farmhouse on the edge of town.

Mountain chuffed in amusement, drying his hands on his apron, before helping Swiss bully the tree into a somewhat-upright position in the corner, into the holder he had made many years previously.

“Fewer squirrels still living in it this year then, Snapdragon?” Mountain laughed over his shoulder, bustling back to the kitchen end of the large room.

“I can’t promise!” Swiss paused to re-tie his boots, before grabbing a bucket and heading back out the door to dig up the root vegetables he had held back specially for their Yuletide feast. Almost everyone was coming this year, and they were sure to be hungry.

“Where are we on the schedule then Mounty?” asked Aurora, her rolled-up sleeves the only part of her not dusted in flour or icing of some kind. She bent down to glare at the cake she had in the oven, daring it not to rise.

“We’re making good time Ror, the Turkey’s ready to go in as soon as your cake is finished, I’ll make pigs-in-blankets later, then it’s just potatoes, parsnips, carrots, and sprouts as soon as Swiss is done. Have you heard how the girls are getting on this morning?”

“Lulu says Cirrus filled the car with bottles last night so we’re good for drinks, and she already made a Yule log and a plum pudding yesterday, and a trifle this morning!”

“Everything’s going to plan then. I hope Dew’s given Rain time to prepare everything they’re bringing…”

Across town, Rain was indeed pushed for time, thanks to his rather stressed husbands buzzing around his head all morning. He was incredibly grateful he’d made the stuffing and cranberry sauce the night before; he was running behind finishing his nut roast, and hadn’t even started on the cauliflower cheese yet. Dewdrop was panicking about his upcoming Yuletide sermon, a yearly occurrence (both the panicking and the sermon), and Phantom had somehow managed to lose all of the craft materials he needed for the youth club event he was running at the church with Sunshine.

When their doorbell rang, immediately followed by several loud knocks signalling Sunny’s characteristic impatience, Rain had breathed a sign of relief. She had whisked Phant away for the day, reminding him that she had all the construction paper and glitter, and promising to be at Swiss and Mountain’s on time for the meal later. Rain was glad she was driving, last year he’d still been vacuuming glitter out of his car in April. Sunny taught pre-K at the local school, and since the school term had already ended, she and Phantom were running an extended youth group session for the children and kits who’s parents had to work today. She had been over at the youth pastor’s house several nights this week already, trying to teach him how to make pipe-cleaner Yule goats.

Now just Dew remained, and Rain was splitting his time between packing his nut roast into a pan, and reassuring Dew that yes, his sermon’s message was clear, no it wasn’t boring, yes he would still love him if it went badly, and no he’s not fed up with him talking about it, and nor is Phantom. Eventually, he stuffed a wooden spoon into his hand, and told him to get stirring the cheese sauce while the cauliflower steamed.

Back at the farmhouse, Aurora’s cake was cooling on the side and the turkey was in the oven. Swiss had returned with enough vegetables to feed a small army which he was busy washing and chopping to roast with honey from his bees later. Mountain and Aurora were hurriedly decorating the tree, hanging almost a decade’s worth of decorations made and gifted to them by Mountain and Swiss’ scout troop. Cirrus and Cumulus were due to arrive any minute, and the hosts wanted their home to feel suitably festive before they put them to work helping to finish dinner.

“Ding dong!” trilled a voice entering through the open kitchen door. Cumulus bustled in, arms laden with goodies. “Cir’s just backing the car up.”

“Hey Lus, good to see you!” Swiss moved to pull her into a hug, remembering at the last minute to put down the large knife he was holding first.

“Lulu! My dessert queen!” squealed Aurora as she ran back into the kitchen, her socked feet sliding on the flagstone floor. She narrowly avoided toppling into Cirrus, bags clinking with bottles that no doubt promised a good time once they returned from church that evening. “Oh, hi Riri, did you bring the lavender syrup from the bar?”

“Let her breathe first, Petal.” Mountain also re-entered the kitchen, and laid one of his large and gentle hands on Aurora’s shoulder.

“Hello Rory, everyone, happy Yule!” setting the bags gently on the floor, Cirrus deftly extracted a small purple bottle from one of them. “Lavender syrup, m’lady”.

“Amazing, thanks Cir! Lu, will you help me taste the frosting for my cake? I don’t want to add too much lavender, I can’t feed Mist soap cake!”

Biting back a smile, Cumulus let herself be dragged over to the still cooling cake, and the bowl of frosting waiting next to it. Aurora and Her Yule Cake had been a much discussed topic all week: Aurora’s not-at-all-subtle crush on Mist, the ghoulette who owned the town’s small record shop, was not as secret as she may have hoped. After their last run-in at the coffee shop Rory worked in, during which Mist had briefly mentioned that her favourite cake was an Earl-Grey and lavender concoction she’d had in her art student days, Aurora had been obsessed with the idea of making it for their Yule celebration. Mist wasn’t due to arrive until later in the day, as she lodged in Zephyr’s spare room and had promised them and Omega a lift out to the farm straight after they finished work at the local GP surgery.

Mountain pottered back over to check on the turkey, and hummed in satisfaction at what he saw. He began loading Cumulus’ desserts into the fridge, before pulling out sausages and bacon to assemble Phantom’s favourite Yuletide trimming.

The next to arrive were Rain and Dew, both looking somewhat frazzled, arms loaded with foil-covered trays. Separately and silently, the pair dumped their offerings on the counter before beelining for the fridge for a drink to de-stress. Mountain snickered and shook his head at them fondly, before putting Rain’s nut roast into the oven and removing the turkey to rest. There was a reason Rain, Dew and Phantom never hosted Yule, after all.

Phantom and Sunny showed up a while later, both with hair full of glitter and even some in Phantom’s eyebrow. The children and kits from the youth church group had made them their annual Yuletide decorations, which they hung on the tree with Cirrus. Phantom proudly showed off his best attempt yet at a Yule goat to Dew, the horns almost even this time.

Last to arrive, as expected, were Omega, Zephyr and Mist, Omega still loosening his festive tie as he walked in the door and trading it with Swiss for a beer. Aurora was very glad she had changed her flour-dusted outfit after her baking escapades: Mist had clearly put in effort, her short shock of icy platinum hair meticulously styled to look effortless. As she laid a cool hand on Aurora’s arm, wishing her a happy Yuletide in her low, soft voice, Aurora had blushed almost as red as the sequins on her dress.

Eventually, Swiss managed to wrangle everybody into a mis-match of seats around the table, and Mountain led the charge of serving up the food. In a flurry of plates, side-dishes and serving spoons, everybody soon had a plate piled high with their annual Yuletide feast.

Just as Mountain was taking the final seat, there was a knock at the door. While the others shared confused glances, Mountain and Swiss exchanged a knowing look.

“Get the door would you Dew? You’re closest.” asked Swiss.

Dew huffed and rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it. He moved to the door, throwing it open to meet a pair of warm, violet eyes above a soft and almost sheepish grin.

“Aether!” he had all-but shrieked, throwing himself into the larger ghoul’s chest with such force he almost pushed him straight back out the door.

“Hey there Firefly, Happy Yule.” Aether brought large arms up to encircle Dew in a hug, slowly walking them far enough into the house to close the door.

“Glad you made it Aeth!” Swiss smiled, clapping him on the shoulder as he pulled another chair up to the table, squeezing it in between his and Dew’s.

“Just in time too!” Mountain placed a hastily filled extra plate of food in front of the new chair, and leaned over a still-attached Dewdrop to gently knock horns with Aether. Aether deposited Dew back into his seat before taking his own, exchanging greetings with the other ghouls, both old friends and newer.

After a very merry Yule feast, but before stuffing themselves further with dessert and cake – or getting lost to Cirrus’ lethal cocktails – they piled into a selection of cars to head to church, all of Dew’s nerves forgotten in the excitement of Aether’s return.

[moralesmilesanhour]

Garden

Summary: In his spare time, Hobie's gotten a nice garden going for him. Genre: general wc: 300+ A/N: I did an embarrassing amount of plant research for this. Also native plant gardens r cool and punk <3

The thing about plants is that they always find a way.

They peek through the cracks of rigid sidewalks despite getting their heads stepped on. They curl and slink around old office buildings, castles, statues – all of our little monuments – and quietly outlive them. Even while being consumed by flame, some species of trees drop pine cones containing seeds that will survive and flourish long after the flames tire themselves out. Little stowaways.

Hobie grinned at the persistent sprout pushing through the dirt in his backyard as he sat on his haunches, delighted by the pop of green it added to his flat full of browns and beiges.

There was a point in time where he’d only gotten to see shades of green that weren’t artificial in textbooks, which he had stolen from run-down library buildings that wouldn’t be in use any time soon. He learned that people used to eat what they grew, not just what they could scrounge for while shuffling through a sterile grocery aisle. That, and the joys of perennial gardening.

All of this is to say: growing parsnips and tomatoes beats digging through the trash for leftover fast food by a longshot.

If you ever stood in front of Hobie’s front yard you’d think it was abandoned, overrun by weeds. Such a thought would earn you a stern lecture from the boy on seeing the beauty in fuzzy buttonbush or muted pink milkweed plants that did not always boast bright colors or elegant shapes. With perfectly symmetrical piercings on either side of his face and hair that shot out like wild bergamot, Hobie knew a thing or two about beauty. What it was, or what it could be.

Hobie got up with a grunt, pocketing a small shovel in his overalls as he carefully removed his gloves. Just as he did so, a bleach-blonde head of hair poked out from around the corner. The girl raised a pierced eyebrow.

“Gwendy, what’s happening?” Hobie turned and greeted the younger with a salute.

“Nothin’ much.” She tilted her chin up at the row of sprouts. “Backyard, too?”

“Yup.” The boy looked fondly at the tomato vines creeping up the white stakes he’d planted in the dirt, and asked, “Feel like makin’ some soup?”

[warriors-rewritten-chaos]

Warrior Cats Prefixes- P

I had a WC Name Generator on Perchance that I made but I don't seem to have access anymore, so I'm remaking it here as just a simple list. The definitions used are the ones that Clan cats have for those things, and thus are the origins of the names. Definitions used are whatever I found when I googled it.

Pale-: "[adj] light in color or having little color"

Pansy-: "[noun] a popular cultivated viola with flowers in rich colors, with both summer- and winter-flowering varieties"

Panther-: "[noun] a black leopard"

Panthercap-: "[noun] a species of fungus found in Eurasia with poisonous and psychoactive properties"

Parsley-: "[noun] a biennial plant with white flowers and aromatic leaves that are either crinkly or flat"

Parsnip-: "[noun] a long tapering cream-colored root with a sweet flavor; [noun] the widely cultivated Eurasian plant of the parsley family that yields the parsnip root"

Partridge-: "[noun] a short-tailed game bird with mainly brown plumage, native to Eurasia"

Patch-: "[noun] a part of something marked out from the rest by a particular characteristic"

Patched-: "[adj] having multiple patches"

Pea-: "[noun] a spherical green seed that is eaten as a vegetable or as a pulse when dried; [noun] the hardy Eurasian climbing plant which yields pods containing peas"

Peace-: "[noun] freedom from disturbance, aka tranquility"

Peach-: "[noun] a round stone fruit with juicy yellow flesh and downy pinkish-yellow skin; [noun] the tree which bears the peach fruit"

Peak-: "[noun] the pointed top of a mountain"

Pear-: "[noun] a yellowish- or brownish-green edible fruit that is typically narrow at the stalk and wider toward the base, with sweet, slightly gritty flesh; [noun] the tree which bears the pear fruit"

Pearl-: "[noun] a hard, lustrous spherical mass, typically white or bluish-gray, formed within the shell of a pearl oyster or other bivalve mollusk and highly prized as a gem"

Peat-: "[noun] a brown deposit resembling soil, formed by the partial decomposition of vegetable matter in the wet acidic conditions of bogs and fens"

Pebble-: "[noun] a small stone made smooth and round by the action of water or sand"

Peony-: "[noun] a herbaceous or shrubby plant of north temperate regions, which has long been cultivated for its showy flowers"

Pepper-: "[noun] a capsicum, especially a sweet pepper"

Perch-: "[noun] a common freshwater fish"

Peregrine-: "[noun] a powerful falcon found on most continents, breeding chiefly on mountains and coastal cliffs"

Periwinkle-: "[noun] an Old World plant with flat five-petaled, typically bluish flowers and glossy leaves"

Persimmon-: "[noun] an edible fruit that resembles a large tomato and has very sweet flesh; [noun] the tree which yields the persimmon fruit"

Petal-: "[noun] each of the segments of the corolla of a flower, which are modified leaves and are typically colored"

Petrel-: "[noun] a seabird related to the shearwaters, typically flying far from land"

Petunia-: "[noun] a plant of the nightshade family with brightly colored funnel-shaped flowers"

Pheasant-: "[noun] a large long-tailed game bird native to Asia, the male of which typically has very showy plumage"

Phlox-: "[noun] a North American plant that typically has dense clusters of colorful scented flowers, widely grown as a rock-garden or border plant"

Pigeon-: "[noun] a stout seed- or fruit-eating bird with a small head, short legs, and a cooing voice, typically having gray and white plumage"

Pike-: "[noun] a long-bodied predatory freshwater fish with a pointed snout and large teeth, of both North America and Eurasia"

Pine-: "[noun] an evergreen coniferous tree that has clusters of long needle-shaped leaves. Many kinds are grown for their soft timber"

Pink-: "[adj] of a color intermediate between red and white, as of coral or salmon; [noun] pink color, material, or pigment"

Pipit-: "[noun] a mainly ground-dwelling songbird of open country, typically having brown streaky plumage"

Plover-: "[noun] a short-billed gregarious wading bird, typically found by water but sometimes frequenting grassland, tundra, and mountains"

Plum-: "[noun] n oval fleshy fruit that is purple, reddish, or yellow when ripe and contains a flattish pointed pit; [noun] the deciduous tree that bears the plum"

Plume-: "[noun] a long, soft feather or arrangement of feathers used by a bird for display; [verb] spread out in a shape resembling a feather"

Poison-: "[noun] a substance that is capable of causing the illness or death of a living organism when introduced or absorbed"

Pollen-: "[noun] a fine powdery substance, typically yellow, consisting of microscopic grains discharged from the male part of a flower or from a male cone"

Pond-: "[noun] a small body of still water formed naturally or by hollowing or embanking"

Pony-: "[noun] a horse of a small breed"

Pool-: "[noun] a small area of still water, typically one formed naturally"

Poplar-: "[noun] a tall, fast-growing tree of north temperate regions"

Poppy-: "[noun] a herbaceous plant with showy flowers, milky sap, and rounded seed capsules"

Possum-: "[noun] a marsupial with a naked prehensile tail and opposable thumbs, an opossum"

Potato-: "[noun] a starchy plant tuber; [noun] the plant of the nightshade family that produces the potato tubers on underground runners"

Powder-: "[noun] fine, dry particles produced by the grinding, crushing, or disintegration of a solid substance; [noun] light, dry, newly fallen snow"

Prickle-: "[noun] a short, slender, sharp-pointed outgrowth on the bark or epidermis of a plant, a small thorn"

Primrose-: "[noun] a commonly cultivated plant of European woodlands that produces pale yellow flowers in the early spring; [noun] a pale yellow color"

Privet-: "[noun] a shrub of the olive family, with small white heavily scented flowers and poisonous black berries"

Promise-: "[noun] a declaration or assurance that one will do a particular thing or that a particular thing will happen; [verb] assure someone that one will definitely do, give, or arrange something, or undertake or declare that something will happen"

Proud-: "[noun] feeling deep pleasure or satisfaction as a result of one's own achievements, qualities, or possessions or those of someone with whom one is closely associated; [noun] having or showing a high or excessively high opinion of oneself or one's importance"

Ptarmigan-: "[noun] a northern grouse of mountainous and Arctic regions, with feathered legs and feet and plumage that typically changes to white in winter"

Puddle-: "[noun] a small pool of liquid, especially of rainwater on the ground"

Puffball-: "[noun] a type of fungus featuring a ball-shaped fruit body that (when mature) bursts on contact or impact, releasing a cloud of dust-like spores into the surrounding area"

Pumpkin-: "[noun] a large rounded orange-yellow fruit with a thick rind, edible flesh, and many seeds; [noun] the plant of the gourd family that produces pumpkins, having tendrils and large lobed leaves"

Purple-: "[noun] a color intermediate between red and blue; [adj] of a color intermediate between red and blue"

[rosemist50]

Parsnip, Benny (Stormcloud's brother), Ziggy, Victor, Riga, O'Hara, Webster, and Scarlet from Bramblestar's Storm. Fog and her brother Streak, Growler, Tuna, Mae, Floyd, Dash, and Rose from Tigerheart's Shadow. Ajax from AVoS and Tigerheart's Shadow, Spider from AVoS, Bob and Jasper also from AVoS. Tom-Tom and Coco from Daisy's Kin.

[goatpaste]

🥯

[Commission info][Etsy]

[exocynraku]

cats that are mentioned once and never again r so interesting 

[billystorm]

some headshots (blackthorn n parsnip belong to @foxglovesound)

[rookflower]

[flaxenfreckle]

Minkwhisper Shadowclan Warrior, She/Her Mother of Weaseleyes, Jaggedrush, Former Mother of Crickettuft, Webface, and Swampdusk

[mandareeboo]

Title: Streets of Clover

Summary: In the wake of Berryshade’s banishment, Brightfur finds herself more lost than ever. Every attempt to bring Ravenwind to justice has failed, and now even StarClan has turned its back on her- what’s left for her to do?

When the mysterious rogue Clover begs for help, Brightfur is plunged into a world of sidewalks, kittypets, and blood feuds. And maybe, just maybe, Ravenwind will finally take things too far.

Chapter Title: Finding Strength

Excerpt:

"You're scum," Parsnip whimpered, her earlier bravado gone. "You're horrible and disgusting and no one will remember you when you're gone."

Scrap was panting. He sneered down at her. "You'll remember me. Now, tell me; where are they?"

The molly fell silent. She's probably in shock, Brightfur thought. Again, she went to move forward, this time in an instinctive need to care and heal the cat who'd housed her. Alderstar's fluffy, star-filled tail stopped her.

Brightfur, eyes narrowed, glared at him. "If she dies, I will never serve StarClan again."

"Do you serve us now?" Alderstar asked, head tilted.

Yay, more angst, and a little character on Parsnip! She's generally pretty nice, but finding out you just stood to the side while getting tortured Does Things to a cat. Huey and Dewey are coming to ShadowClan! On a side note, 'mask' is a really cool suffix that doesn't get used nearly enough lol.

Srry for the delay- some major plot points are coming up soon, and I've been wanting to plan them out s'more before I dive on in.

Buy me a Coffee?