darlingfettucini

[darlingfettucini]

Certain words can change your brain forever and ever so you do have to be very careful about it.

[darlingfettucini]

"Elves aren't particularly...impressed with humanity as a whole. But they VERY much like our knights...no, you don't understand- okay, let me put it this way. You ever read an erotica written by an elf? There is ALWAYS a human knight getting f***** in it."

[darlingfettucini]

YOU hates terfs

[darlingfettucini]

As a joke you had always said "I dedicate this to Hades" as you threw away food scraps from your cooking and cleaning your plates. When you die you find yourself in front of Charon's boat with Hades sitting in it, seemingly very excited to see his most devoted follower in recent times.

[darlingfettucini]

Ahhhh my stupid beautiful sons from Rules for Superheroes lmao

I want to read a story where one character says, "ok, weird way to propose, but yes," while the other one most definitely did not intend to propose.

[darlingfettucini]

"I. Will. Never. Marry. You!" you spat, while suspended over a bubbling pit of lava in your tiny cage. But little did your captor know, your reverse psychology plan was working. Everything was falling right into place like clockwork. Until that stupid hero arrived to "save you" from your Crush.

[darlingfettucini]

Everyone always questioned the young boy who only made modest requests to the gods, but he was the only one whose prayers were answered. It turns out that gods are a lot less powerful than we thought, and were not answering because we were too unreasonable in our prayers.

[darlingfettucini]

You are a minor deity that had a massive influx in worshippers. You have no idea why.

[darlingfettucini]

Being Trans In Southern Nature

Being a nature freak in the south as a well-passing trans man is a surreal experience. I live in north Georgia in a blue county in the suburbs. But as often as I can, I drive out into the middle of nowhere for hiking, camping, paddle boarding, or other outdoor activities. The drive there, in and of itself, is bizarre. Inside my car I’m blasting “This Is Me” from The Greatest Showman. But outside I’m driving by confederate flags, Trump signs, the Don’t Tread On Me flag, a sea of American Flags, and Christian billboards that literally say “you’re going to hell” with pictures of fire.

I often think if I ever get a flat tire on one of these trips, and anyone ever figures out I’m trans, I’d be hanged or shot. But I haven’t been clocked in years, so I push those kinds of thoughts to the back of my mind. I turn off the country back roads and onto the gravel drive leading up to a nature preserve. Pulling into the dirt parking lot there’s about a dozen other cars. Many have Trump bumper stickers. There’s no bathroom, so no concern about me being beat up for taking a piss. I always go in the woods anyway on these kinds of trips.

A full bladder is a concern for any trans person. But for this kind of trip I always take major precautions. They start back at home. After I eat breakfast and drink my coffee, I wait a full hour before leaving. I pee at least twice. I make damned sure my bladder is completely empty and there’s no chance any liquid is on it’s way there before getting into my car. I just described the kind of place I have to travel through to get to a good hiking trail. And I ain’t stopping. Not for anything. I’d rather pee my pants.

So when I pull into the lot I have my gear with me. A small backpack containing my rolled up hammock, a bottle of water, protein bars, toilet paper and my taser. When hiking, I drink barely enough to fuel my body. And if I do it just right, I don’t have to pee even if I’m out in the park the entire day. I don’t risk it. And if there really is just no choice, I’m going to go way off trail to do it. And I mean not just out of sight of the trail, but so far off the path someone would have to be crazy to come out there and spot me. Those are the kind of precautions I take.

But I just pulled into the parking lot and my dangerous bladder is empty. So no concerns at the moment. Backpack on, I start walking up to the trail head. There’s a sign there with a map of the trails on it. A blonde woman in a bright yellow shirt immediately approaches me.

“Excuse me!” she says. “Can you tell me if this is an easy trail?”

I’m used to this. Every time I go out hiking, people approach me. Everyone is friendly. Everyone smiles. And I think I must have a very approachable face. Or maybe I look experienced. Whatever the reason, complete strangers come up to me many times during any hike.

This is my first time on this trail, but I researched it beforehand, so I can answer her.

“Some of it,” I said. I turn and point at the map. “Make sure to take a right at the first fork. The entire eastern loop is easy. See, it’s marked green. You want to avoid the western loop as that goes straight up the mountain.” I pointed to the red part.

The woman nodded, “I see. And are there a lot of people on this trail?”

“From what I’ve read no. That’s why I came today. The reviews say you see hardly any body.”

“Thank you! You’ve been a great help! You seem like a really nice young man. Enjoy your hike!”

“You too!”

We part ways. I enter the trail head to begin my hike and I wonder the same exact thing I always wonder when I have these encounters. Would that nice lady turn mean and ugly and hate me if she knew I was trans? I think it every single time. There’s no way not to. I drove through Trump land to get here. I know what conservatives think of me. Or at least the idea of me. It’s not hidden. It’s not a secret. Trump has been president for 20 days at the time I’m writing this, and he has already signed 4 anti-trans specific executive orders. He is planning on discharging 15,000 trans military service members, possibly dishonorably and without their benefits. He’s planning on making it illegal for trans people to play sports. And he also wants to make it illegal for us to use a bathroom in a federal facility. He’s trying to make healthcare illegal for trans people under 19 years of age, threatening to throw parents and doctors in jail. And I watched as Trump signed these executive orders in front of a huge, cheering, smiling, clapping, crowd of conservatives.

They hate me. They want me to die. But when they meet me in real life, they all smile. They approach me. Ask me questions. Thank me for helping them. Many, especially older white men, seem to want to give me guidance, like a father figure. When I run into them on the trail, they are quick to tell me, “the river flooded that way so be careful,” or “the fishing is great at this pond! Bring your pole next time!”

I have never met an unfriendly person while hiking or camping. And I cannot help but wonder… what if they knew? What would those smiles turn into?

I choose the most difficult route on purpose to try and get out into nature alone. I want the peace and quiet it gives me. I don’t want to hear anything other than the birds, the wind, and the branches moving together. If I’m working hard enough, then my own blood pumping in my ears. For the first hour this is what I get. And I’m immeasurably happy. It’s early February and it’s 60 degrees on a sunny day. There are no leaves or greenery yet, but I’m smelling the warmth from the earth mix with the cool air. The pine trees give me plenty of green to be happy with.

But soon, as is always the case, the peace is interrupted. I hear voices from the trail ahead break the quiet. They’re loud. And there are many. Anxiety immediately kicks in. A prick of fear I can never quite control. It sounds like a group of men. And raised as a girl, I knew from a woman’s perspective just how dangerous this could turn out to be. Even having been transitioned and living as a man for the past 8 years, that was embedded in me. Possibly forever. But also having lived as a trans man for so long, my fear shifts from the possibility of being raped to being beat up instead. But again… that would only happen if someone clocked me. And that hadn’t happened in years.

I breathe in and calm myself down. I’m aware of the weight of my taser in my back pocket. I reach back and flip off it’s lid. But I leave it hidden for now. I’ve never needed it, and likely never would. After all, I have never met an unfriendly person while hiking or camping.

As the voices draw nearer, I suddenly hear a woman laugh. My fear immediately vanishes. This was a mixed group of hikers. I keep going and crest the ridge. I can see them now. There’s five, three men, and two women. And one person was black and another Asian. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I always found it interesting just how many other minorities I ran into in the middle of nowhere in the North Georgia Mountains. And how many foreigners for that matter. During this hike, I had run into two separate Germans. Where were they staying? And out of all the places in America they could visit, they chose this tiny trail? But that seemed to be the case almost anywhere I went.

I start passing the group of hikers, and as always, I’m stopped.

“Hi! Nice weather isn’t it?” The lead hiker says.

“Yes it is!” I reply.

“Are we close to the top of the mountain?” One of the women asks me.

“Yes,” I said. “It’s not far. You’re almost there.”

“You hear that honey?” She calls back to a man huffing and puffing as he comes up at the rear. “We’re almost there!”

“Uuugh!” He groans. The woman turns back to me. “Are there really good views at the top?”

“Kinda,” I said. “You have to look through the trees, but it is a good view.”

“Oh great, thank you!”

We part ways. I once again have the same exact thought. All of them were so nice. But how nice would they have been if they’d known?

At the top of the mountain I stop. It had been a tough hike. Steep the entire way. I go off trail a decent distance so no one would see me, find me, or bother me. I set up my hammock where I can be alone. Rocking myself in it, I look out to the view. I can see across two sloping peaks in the distance and it’s really beautiful. But I can’t enjoy it as much as usual. Nature always heals me and puts my mind right. But I’d found out just the day before that the Georgia Legislature had introduced a bill to strip away healthcare from transgender people. It would ban all gender affirming care, even for adults, from anything government or state related.

I was on a private insurance plan from my job, but I didn’t know if my nurse practitioner, who’d been treating me for over 5 years, accepted any government or state funding. If her practice relied on that kind of money, I would be in a lot of trouble. She likely wouldn’t be able to treat me anymore, or risk losing all her funding. Or worse. If treating trans people was illegal, she could potentially be arrested for helping me.

It had taken me years to find someone competent when it came to transgender health. I wouldn’t be able to find someone else. Or rather, I could, but it would likely take years again. And I might be in a situation where I’d be forced to drive out of state. But even then… Trump was targeting blue states, and trying to force them to stop offering healthcare too. So going to a blue state might not have even helped.

I lay in my hammock, wondering what on earth it was I could do. My best friend the day prior had suggested flying to Canada once a year just to get my medication and then coming home. That was a very expensive solution… but one I might have no choice but to consider. Could they even prescribe me a whole years worth of testosterone at a time? I didn’t think so. But maybe I could have it shipped from Canada? How expensive would that be?

I heard a mom shouting at her giggling kids coming up the path just out of sight. They wouldn’t be able to see me where I had set up. So I was free to lay in my hammock and try to fathom what kind of lives this family likely had. How wonderful it must’ve been to not have to worry about where you could legally take a leak, or how you would legally get your medications. That mom didn’t worry about her doctor being thrown in jail. Or if she and her husband would be thrown in jail for getting her kids the proper care they needed. That little family… had no idea that absolute and ruthless hell trans families had to go through.

I wait until I hear them leave. Then wait several minutes more. Then I pack up my hammock and other things and continue down the trail. I’m blissfully alone for another hour or so. But soon I hear voices again. This time it’s a couple: a man and a woman. As they start to approach I assess them. The husband is wearing a shirt with a huge American flag across the front and the Punisher logo on top of that.

I immediately tense up. I knew well enough that the far right wore the Punisher logo. It meant the same exact thing to me as a confederate flag, don’t tread on me flag, christian cross, American flag, or anything else of the like. All of those symbols were the same. And all of them sent the same message. The woman smiles at me as they approach.

“Hi! Have you seen the pond yet?”

“Yes, it’s just up ahead.”

The man doesn’t speak or smile. He barely looks at me. The woman thanks me and they move on.

If they knew, they absolutely would have killed me. I think.

I run into only one other person on the hike, a Korean photographer. We were both lost at the time we met, and his English was difficult to understand. But I made out that he was looking for the trail to the parking lot. I pointed and told him the way I thought it was, but that this was my first time on the trail and wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if he fully understood me. So I just pointed down the trail. After we parted way, I wondered again,

What if he knew? I knew nothing at all about Korean culture. Did they hate trans people too? Or was that just in America?

I wandered for some time, trying to find the right path back. I had 2 hours of daylight left so wasn’t too concerned and my compass said I was heading west, the direction I knew the parking lot was in. So I knew even if I didn’t recognize this part of the trail, I was heading the right way. I stopped by a little stream. Tired, I sat down on the small wooden bridge going across it. Letting my legs dangle over it’s edge and feeling my blood pound in my feet, I took out a protein bar and a bag of apple slices. As I ate my snack, I looked out to the scenery. It was so peaceful and quiet. So quiet in fact that I could close my eyes and listen to the leaves move through the gentle breeze. It was my absolute favorite sound in the entire world. The day was perfect. And it was exactly why I drove so far out of the suburbs to hike in a place like this.

I just wished…

I wished that…

I wished…

[darlingfettucini]

Writing Prompt #2922

"Run away with me. Please." Her voice bled yearning and agony. "I can't stay, and you know that you shouldn't."

"But...my family. I can't just leave them. What would they do without me?"

"Don't worry about them. That's all you do. Don't resign yourself to living a lie for their sake. Come with me, and we'll be happy. Don't you want to be happy?"

[darlingfettucini]

honestly the way people will talk about fat or poly people is often super indicative of how they would talk about queer or otherwise marginalized people if it was 10% more socially acceptable to do so within their circles

[darlingfettucini]

Tor Publishing Group is BACK with a guide of books to gift the people in your life…and yourself!

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Bury Your Gays by Chuck Tingle

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A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher

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Forbidden romance to keep you warm…

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Beloved bestselling authors to add to your TBR… 

Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson

In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune

Starling House by Alix E. Harrow

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[darlingfettucini]

I don't know why, but I just notice, over and over again, how rarely I see fantasy/science fiction stories starring female protagonists with with a good amount of humor in them.

Humor is something I always look for that makes a story really stand out to me. I can think of several sci-fis and fantasies with poignant, sad, introverted, tragic FMCs. Charming and witty aren't too hard to find, though not as easy as sad and introverted. But hilarious? Dorky? Class clown vibes?

Not impossible. But hard.

There are plenty of fantasy/science fiction books written by women with male protagonists that are funny, but those same authors aren't writing intentionally funny main female characters from what I can tell.

Maybe it's sexist tropes so ingrained into everyone that it just makes writing funny FMCs a bit more difficult. Maybe it's that the act of writing a character an extra step away from your own identity takes the scary vulnerability out of writing comedic prose or dialogue. Perhaps both.

But this is my own observation, and maybe I'm wrong 🤷‍♀️ I'd love to hear suggestions for funny fmcs that are out there in the fantasy/scifi genre.

[darlingfettucini]

If yall don't start writing your main female protagonists as funny silly jesters with dark sad feelings that they hide with humor I'm going to have to do it my damn self

[darlingfettucini]

Thinking about how barbie is basically the world's most goated self-insert OC and everytime she has a new career or movie it's just Mattel coming up with a new AU for their fave

[darlingfettucini]

Concerned love interest?!?? Yes please with extra angst in top!

"It's 2 am! where are you?"

"I'm your best friend, of course I care!"

"Where. Is. My. Wife/Husband?!" (In marriage of convenience trope)

"You need to stop, I'm serious. I don't want to lose you"

"I'm right here. You're safe. I'm not leaving. Stay with me"

"You said you were okay! You promised!"

"You idiot!" (With extra concern)

"You stupid stupid idiot! I'm so glad you're okay"

"you're safe now"

"you told me not to worry. You told me you were fine"

"It'll be over before you know it. Just push through"

"Please don't cry"

"Let it out. Cry all you want. I'm right here"

"stay" "always"

"Holding everything doesn't help, you know?"

"Why do you keep lying to me?"

"Why are you awake right now?"

"You said no secrets! You promised! I was terrified"

"Please look at me"

"[out of breath] I know I shouldn't be here, and I might have gotten the wrong idea from the call but-" [gets cut of by sudden hug] "[relaxes and hugs back] I'm right here, I always will be"

[darlingfettucini]

Writing Reference: A Historical Menu

Origin — Food — Drink

1900 — tacos, quiche, schwarma, pizza, osso bucco, paella, tuna, goulash, hamburger, mousse, borscht, grapefruit, éclair, chips, bouillabaisse, mayonnaise, ravioli, crêpes, consommé — Coca Cola, soda water, riesling

1800 — spaghetti, soufflé, bechamel, ice cream, kipper, chowder, sandwich, jam, meringue, hors d‘oeuvre, welsh rabbit — tequila, seltzer, whisky

1700 — avocado, paté, muffin, vanilla, mincemeat, pasta, salmagundi, yoghurt, kedgeree — gin, port, champagne, brandy, sherbet

1600 — omelette, litchi, tomato, curry, chocolate, banana, macaroni, caviar, pilav, anchovy, maize, potato, turkey, artichoke, scone — tea, sherry, coffee, sillabub

1500 — marchpane (marzipan), whiting, offal, melon, pineapple, mushroom, salmon, partridge

Middle English — venison, pheasant, crisp, cream, bacon, biscuit, oyster, toast, pastry, jelly, ham, veal, mustard, beef, mutton, brawn, sauce, potage, broth, herring, meat, cheese — muscatel, rhenish (rhine wine), claret, ale

Old English — cucumber, mussel, butter, fish, bread — beer, wine, water

The evolution of terms for food and drink is an interesting reflection of the history of cultural contact between English-speaking countries and the rest of the world (G. Hughes, 1988).

Source ⚜ Food History ⚜ Writing Notes & References ⚜ Word Lists