#But then I thought about plants and green and Mimi so I went with 'Green Thumb' :p

[geekgemsspooksandtoons]

So, just like with my original drafts of writing interactions between Spider-Man (Peter Parker) and Moon Girl. But this time...with a certain character from the Spider-Man mythos as well. This draft is from July 28th, 2023. And I'll admit, I do feel like as overtime, I think I underestimate Lunella's character when it comes to fighting supervillains. Especially with the kinds of people she has taken on in the show.

But this was written or just...it's made in a way like...I have told friends of mine that thinking of the prospect of Lunella being in the Marvel universe is kind of terrifying. Because while there have been villains that have provided a legit challenge to her. With some I prefer over others. But...me knowing the Marvel universe...

Here's my draft detailing a confrontation of Moon Girl fighting the Green Goblin. Again, merely a draft, and I tried imagining this Green Goblin's voice with Roger L. Jackson...but I kept imagining Willem Dafore.

As Moon Girl got up from her feet. She noticed her surroundings. Inside an old, abandoned building, things look like they’ve fallen apart. Almost as if this was the aftermath of a huge fire that didn’t completely burn everything. But the house was forgotten, abandoned. It was rural too, plants have grown around inside the building, without much care. There was only silence as she looked around.

Not a sound. And that scared her. She took stood her ground and activated her jetpack in case, arming herself with her shootable boxing gloves. Moon Girl kept scanning the area, nothing was hidden, maybe. She kept looking around, spinning around quickly so no one would jump her.

“Hello Lunella!” A familiar husky like voice called out to her in a strange friendly tone. The sound of some machine going off as she looked behind where the voice was at. And there he was, standing on that flying glider, jumping off of it onto the ground a mere few feet away from her, without losing his balance. The glider went somewhere, hidden. He stood up and began staring down at her with his orange eyes and smiled back at her. The way he stared at her was the closest a demon would in real life. It unnerved her even as she tried to keep holding her ground.

This was the man or...the monster that Peter never wanted to talk about. This was the thing that haunted him for years. The creature that took on the Avengers and nearly killing them. But also, the one that killed Steve Rogers, Captain America years prior. 

The Green Goblin.

“You know, I’ll admit. When I first saw you on the news segments whenever they would talk about your little L.E.S., I felt genuinely surprised.” He said as he gently put his right hand over his chest. Goblin was sounding peaceful, non-threatening. “You know, I thought after I murdered Captain America, after all the things I did years back would’ve broken this city. But that alone fully divide the Avengers, that alone didn’t destroy a city. Which is really a shame. I think the most surprising part is seeing a young girl becoming a superhero...heh heh. You know, I thought no one would become a superhero anymore after what I did.” He continued to chuckle more as he put both of his hands on his waist.

“And you’re clever, I’ll admit that too. You’re able to accomplish so much at a young age. But I want to test something. Especially learning the cold hard truthful talk Aftershock had with you a while back. I heard she made excellent points.” He continued laughing. “Oh my, she pretty much was right on point. But, again, I want to test you.”

Moon Girl kept standing her around despite sweat was starting to form on her head. She kept looking at him.

“From what I’ve seen, you’ve usually have help from your big dinosaur friend or that other girl. But right here, right now. There’s no Devil Dinosaur. No Casey. No Mimi. And no Spider-Man or whoever else to help you. It’s just the two of us. And I want to see how you can take me on without any help.” After he said that, Moon Girl pointed her right arm, armed with a boxing glove, ready to shoot him in the face.

“Come on, shoot me in the face with one of those boxing gloves. Do it. Come one Lunella. What’s the matter? Are you scared?” He continued smiling back at her.

“No, I’m not.” She responded back to him.

“Then come on, do it! Hit me with your best punch! Knock me out!”

After he said that, Lunella put a lot of force into this one glove, she shot it right in the middle of his face. After the glove hit him in the face, it simply bounced off like it was nothing. Lunella’s goggles gave a widened eye emotion as her jaw dropped. She put so much pressure into that one glove, but nothing worked. He took the glove like a champ.

“Aww, that was adorable. And useless. Do it again.” He responded back.

She shot him in the face again. Then again, and again, and he began walking towards her. She continued to back away as she kept shooting him everywhere, the face, the chest and whenever else. The moment he got way too close, Lunella started to fly away, getting away from him as far as possible.

“Come on Lunella! Show me that “Moon Girl Magic” you talk about! You know I’ll just chase you down!” After he said that, he heard a water like sound, she shot her bubble gun right at him, but he quickly dodged the shot. She decided to get closer to get a clearer shot, but he jumped at her, grabbing her bubble gun from the front, stopping it from firing, and literally ripping it out of her hands before grabbing and throwing her across the building. Moon Girl screamed as she broken through a wooden wall and landing on the other side. Her jetpack hit a brick wall behind her. While it wasn’t heavily damaged, it was getting there. She tried to fly around the building again, planning what else to do. What can she do right now? She needed to call someone, but her head was hurting after being thrown so hard.

Suddenly, the left wing of her jetpack was grabbed by something heavy. And it was the Goblin again. He spun her around a few times as she continued to scream before letting go, breaking through an old ceiling, her jetpack was slowly becoming more damaged.

“What’s the matter Moon Girl?! Is something wrong? Am I too much for you or are you getting weak?!” He yelled at her. Prompting Lunella to launch back at him, yelling. She decided to repeatedly punch him as hard as she could. Almost akin to when she tried fighting the troll under the bridge. Trying to call him names and threaten him. But he kept smiling, nothing was phasing him.

She repeatedly punched him in the face multiple times. She wasn’t holding back. But the Goblin looked back at her, laughing like a maniac. It made Lunella pause as she was in disbelief at what she was witnessing. “You call those punches?! I consider that tickling!”

At that moment, wondering what else to know, she tried to fly away again. But he grabbed her left foot. She kept trying to fly away, but his grip was so strong. He then pulled her into another direction before letting go of her foot. She was flying directly toward a nearly collapsed brick wall. Lunella quickly turned her body, using the jetpack to hit the wall as it was destroyed and fell apart. Despite her jetpack was able to save her from being extremely injured, it was broken now. She couldn’t fly anymore even when she tried using it. Lunella tried getting back up on her feet, but she fell back down to her knees.

She was breathing heavily, she was stressed out, trying to figure out what to do. But fear was getting control of her. This fear was like when she felt being inside the Coney Island funhouse. But this felt much worse than that. How that was even possible? All the times she was afraid before and after that, all those memories were flooding back. She then heard footsteps behind her, she looked over her shoulder.

At first glance, it almost looked like the clown from the funhouse had appeared. But instead, it disappeared and transformed back into the Green Goblin.

Lunella gasped as she started to crawl away as quickly as she can. The demonic looking smile the Goblin gave towards her when she looked back at him. This was so much worse than the funhouse. But this wasn’t about losing Mimi or trying to get over her fear. This was about her life.

She whimpered as she kept crawling as the Goblin kept up with her. “Tell me Moon Girl! Is this anything like the fight you had with Aftershock?! The Muzzlers?! Gravitas?! Abyss?! Odessa?! Or what about the whole incident with Morlak and the Enclave?!”

He grabbed her by the jetpack, she yelped and tried to get away.

“I’m sure fighting them must’ve been really tough! But keep in mind, ALL OF THEM ARE ROOKIES COMPARED TO ME!” He yelled out before throwing her across the building, hitting floors and ceilings. She fell back to the floor in pain. Lunella wanted to cry, but she didn’t want to. Her goggles luckily didn’t break yet. She scanned around for an exit, anywhere to escape from here.

“Smartest person on the planet! And you can’t even figure out a way to beat me!” His voice was heard across the building. “What a shame to hear the Beyonder considers you smarter than the likes of Tony Stark, Reed Richards, T’Challa and even good ol’ Doctor Doom! Didn’t he know you haven’t tussled with the big boys yet?! Or are you just going to stick with saving cats out of trees, fighting some muggers and beating D-list or Z-list supervillains that are weak compared to people like me?!”

She kept walking around, trying to find an exit, but there was nothing.

“You know, it’s actually really sad the Beyonder really did choose you. If he picked maybe any of the Avengers, any of the Fantastic Four, or Hell, if he even chose Spider-Man as a representee of Earth, I would’ve understood. I’d be pissed, but I would understand. But no, he chooses a 13-year-old girl who nearly doomed humanity who’s running in terror from someone like me. I wonder if he’s regretting his choice picking you. Maybe he’s getting a laugh or being concerned for you watching us right now.”

After that, Lunella tried to hide in one spot as she continued to look for a way out.

“Honestly, the fact you’re so smart. You could’ve done some great things. Instead, you waste time wearing a stupid outfit like that, helping a stupid community that you live in. And yet you can have it all with that dinosaur friend of yours! But again, you don’t go for it! You’re just as bad as that arachnid I hate so damn much! You, him and me are exceptional among the many others who act as if they’re special when they aren’t!”

[florencetheflowerfairy]

Battle for Meiko’s Heart!!!

Pairing: Meiko x Mimi

Word count: ~2,900

Battle for Meiko’s Heart!!!

Meiko stopped walking so she could take a better look at the flyer on the wall. There was a new club for ballroom dancing that was meeting this Wednesday. The idea of joining a dance club made Meiko smile. She loved drawing and painting, but she had always been wary of the performing arts at her old school. However, after meeting Mimi, she realized that she actually liked dancing. It felt liberating.

She wondered if she could ask Mimi to join the club with her. Then they could dance together all the time. They could perform in competitions and wear fun outfits. Mimi would look especially beautiful. Meiko rocked on her feet, imagining what it would be like to be graceful, and to be holding Mimi’s waist…

“Hey,” a deep voice interrupted her musings. Meiko squeaked and turned around.

It was Taichi. He was leaning against the locker next to her. He grinned when she saw him and Meiko melted a little. Taichi’s enormous smile was infectious. And it felt special that he was smiling for her.

“Do you like dancing?” Taichi asked.

“Uhh…” Meiko cleared her throat. “Y-yes!”

“There’s a new club in Shibuya called the Maine Coon. It made me think of you!” His voice was so damn friendly. “Koushirou said he’d make me Fake IDs to get in. And I absolutely trust Koushirou, so there wouldn’t be any problem.”

“Oh-oh! My goodness!” Meiko’s voice sounded annoyingly squeaky to her ears.

“Can I take you there this Saturday?” Taichi asked.

THUNK

Taichi and Meiko both blinked and turned around. Koushirou had hit his head against the locker on the opposite side of the hallway. He mumbled “Ow” and went back to collecting his books, grumbling and refusing to look behind him.

Taichi bit his lip and looked wistfully at his friend, but he was all smiles when he met Meiko’s eyes again. “What do you say?”

Meiko considered. She liked Taichi a lot. He was kind. And handsome. No boy had ever paid her this much attention. So there was only one acceptable answer.

“Y—”

“YOOHOO!” A high voice interrupted Meiko’s response.

Meiko smiled and turned around. Mimi was strutting down the hallway straight towards her. She had changed out of her school uniform into a little pink dress that sparkled with sequins. And she was carrying a large tray in her hands, where there was—

“A cake?” Taichi raised his eyebrows.

Mimi stopped in front of Meiko and held out the cake to her. The lettering on the frosting read, Will you be my girlfriend?

“Meimei!” Mimi sung. Her voice was always captivating. She started speaking very fast. “So back in the United States, there’s this thing called Prom at the end of high school, where students get to ask their crushes to go with them to a big dance party, and they have to ask in the most over-the-top dramatic way possible. Tragically, I’m not going to Prom in Japan! But you know what? We can do something even better! There’s a lesbian bar on the other end of Tokyo called Green Thumb. And I just got Miyako to make the two of us Fake IDs! So we can go out dancing like mature adult ladies! What do you say? Will you go out with me?”

“Mimi!” Meiko blushed and giggled. Butterflies filled her stomach. She could hardly think when there were rainbows filling up her brain, making her feel like she could float. “Aaahhh…” Her tongue got stuck.

“Oh do say yes! I’ve been practicing a song for you if you do!” Mimi said.

“Ahem—” Taichi cleared his throat.

“No boys allowed!” Mimi shook her finger at him.

“Um…” Meiko finally found words. “You see, it’s just that, he asked me out first…”

“WHAT?!” Mimi yelled.

“She was about to say yes,” Taichi said.

“Were you?” Mimi demanded.

“I-I…” Meiko panicked. “I thought—I mean—I just—I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings!” She no longer felt like she could float. Her two most attractive friends both looked angry and it was frightening her. She realized that she could easily mess up and lose them both.

“What’s going on?” Sora suddenly appeared in her tennis uniform, looking very windswept. She held Meiko’s shoulder protectively. “Taichi, are you bothering her?” she asked.

“No!” Taichi said defensively. “I just asked her out, and then Mimi interrupted—”

“I asked her out better,” Mimi said. “I made her a cake! And I’m going to sing ‘Come What May’ from Moulin Rouge, the most romantic movie in history. What did you make her, you lazy bum?”

“What, like I need anything more than these?” Taichi flexed his biceps.

“That’s enough, you two!” Sora snapped. “You’re both being ridiculous.”

“But she—”

“But he—”

“Stop putting pressure on her,” Sora said.

“They’re not putting pressure on me…” Meiko weakly defended them.

“No—Sora is right. I’m sorry,” Taichi said.

Mimi’s face flushed. “I’m sorry too!”

“Meiko, it’s your own choice,” Taichi continued. He smiled winningly.

Mimi bit her lip. “But if she picks you, it’s just because you’re a—you’re a—” Mimi stopped talking. It wasn’t like Mimi to look so nervous. The sight broke Meiko’s heart.

“I…” Meiko floundered.

Then Koushirou popped his head in the circle, staring at Meiko with wide, curious eyes. “Which one will you pick?” he asked.

“Um…”

“Because I think the choice is rather obvious,” Koushirou said. He grinned and tapped Taichi’s arm. Taichi blinked like a confused puppy. Koushirou poked him more insistently, and then Taichi flexed his arm again. Koushirou reached up to squeeze his bicep. He talked like the world’s best hype-man who also delivered exposition on the regular. “He’s mature. He’s your age. He’ll listen to you when you want to talk about the atomic structure of Cobalt at three in the morning.”

“I would never bother you about Cobalt at three in the morning!” Mimi said to Meiko.

“Or whatever nightly topics of romantic conversation that normal people talk about. He’ll listen to that too. He’s versatile,” Koushirou continued. “And if you’re looking for a dance partner…well! You couldn’t find a better one than Yagami Taichi.”

“That’s right,” Taichi agreed. He suddenly gripped Koushirou’s wrist and twirled him around.

“Ah!” Koushirou gasped as his friend spun him in circles, grabbed his waist, and dipped him so that his head was inches above the ground. Koushirou held onto Taichi’s neck so that he wouldn’t fall over and stuck one awkward leg in the air. He laughed as if he was happy.

Taichi laughed too. Then he quickly pulled Koushirou back to his feet and dusted him off, as if he’d somehow gotten his friend dirty. He leaned one elbow on Koushirou’s shoulder and grinned at Meiko confidently.

It was an impressive feat, but Meiko felt like she was getting mixed messages from him.

“Boys…” Sora looked exasperated.

“I can dance too!” Mimi insisted. “There’s only one proper way to settle this! I challenge you to a battle of Dance Dance Revolution!” She pointed at Taichi and jammed her finger in his chest.

Taichi chuckled. “Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious,” Mimi answered.

“That doesn’t settle anything!” Sora said. “Meiko, you don’t have to listen to these two airheads.”

“No, I…” Meiko tried to find the courage to speak honestly. It was difficult with everyone’s eyes on her. Then the bell rang.

“You don’t have to decide right away,” Taichi said gently. “In the meantime…I’ll meet you at the arcade after school,” he said to Mimi.

“No, I’ll meet you in the arcade after school!” Mimi said authoritatively.

Taichi shrugged and smirked. He turned on his heel and walked away.

As soon as he left, Koushirou buckled over and snorted in laughter.

“What’s so funny, you traitor?” Mimi asked.

“You are aware of the fact that Taichi is the champion of DDR, correct? That he has the highest score in the arcade?” Koushirou wheezed.

“That graceless oaf? Ha! I don’t believe it,” Mimi said.

Sora sighed. “It’s true. We were at the arcade last weekend and I couldn’t beat him.”

“Wait—what?! He beat you?” Mimi suddenly looked alarmed.

“He also wiped the floor with me,” Koushirou added admiringly. Mimi stuck out her tongue at him.

“Um, Mimi?” Meiko said. Mimi quickly looked away from Koushirou and stood up straighter, trying to look more mature. She still had the cake in her arms, and she looked so pretty that Meiko could cry. But Meiko tried to compose herself. “You don’t have to do this,” she said.

Mimi forced a smile. “Don’t worry about me, Meimei! I’m going to win! Promise me that you’ll come watch me win?”

“O-of course.”

“Excellent,” Mimi purred. Then her eyes widened. “OH!” She suddenly thrust the cake into Koushirou’s arms—he yelped and grabbed it clumsily—and then she threw her hands in the air and fell backwards. Meiko gasped.

Sora grabbed Mimi’s shoulders before she hit the floor and held her up. “Mimi! Do you feel okay?” she asked.

“Yes…yes!” Mimi said dramatically. “But I feel very faint…I think that I shall have to go to the nurse’s office…Will you carry me there?”

Sora shut her eyes and counted to ten before answering. “I’ll walk you to the nurse’s.”

“Thank you!” Mimi chirped. Then she reached out to Meiko, and Meiko held her hand. Mimi pulled her closer and whispered, “I’m getting out of school so I can practice Dance Dance Revolution at the arcade all day! So there’s no way I’ll lose!” She winked.

Meiko’s heart fluttered. “O-okay. Good luck!” she said and patted her hand.

“You know, you really should have challenged Taichi to a singing contest,” Koushirou said.

“Oh shut up,” Mimi grumbled. “Protect my cake for me, will you? It’s for Meiko and me when we go on our date!”

“Okay,” Koushirou said dully, resigned to carry the tray around all day.

“I’m sorry about this…” Meiko said. She wished that she was confident like Mimi was. Why was it so hard to just say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’?

“Don’t worry! See you after school!” Mimi replied. Then Sora pulled her to her feet and the two girls walked away.

Meiko buried her face in her hands, thinking about Mimi and Taichi. What’s a girl to do?

At the Arcade!!!

Meiko entered the arcade with Sora and Koushirou by her side. She had never been here before. (Koushirou was still carrying the cake, which Meiko didn’t feel like she could morally eat yet.) Sora led them through the various video games and a row of pinball machines. They finally arrived at the Dance Dance Revolution station in the corner. Meiko saw that Mimi was already there, bouncing on the platform. She immediately smiled. “Mimi!” she called.

Mimi whipped her head around and saw her friends. “Hellooooo!” she yelled and waved. Mimi lost points for getting distracted, but Meiko didn’t notice that. She did see that Mimi looked particularly fabulous up there. She was wearing a green halter top, black leggings, and a lacy skirt. She had tied her hair up in a high pony tail with a large green bow. Her makeup was flawless and her nails were each painted with flowers. Mimi leaned over the bar of the DDR machine and elegantly popped one foot in the air. Meiko was enchanted.

“You look wonderful,” Meiko said breathlessly.

Mimi giggled. “Thank you!”

“Did you just get your nails done?” Sora asked, impressed.

“Yes!” Mimi answered. “I got a manicure, a haircut, and I went to the mall for some brand new dancing clothes! This outfit screams Winner!”

Koushirou raised an eyebrow. “I thought that you left school early so that you could practice DDR,” he said.

Mimi blushed. “I have been practicing! …For a half-hour…”

“What? Mimi!” Meiko looked alarmed.

Mimi reached over and stroked Meiko’s cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m more confident when I’m wearing the right clothes! I was hoping you would like them! And I can do anything as long as you’re here to cheer me on,” she said.

“Oh Mimi…” Meiko felt guilty for somehow inspiring this mess, but she loved the way Mimi’s hand felt on her face. “I…”

“Your king has arrived!” a deep voice interrupted them. Meiko would know that voice anywhere. She saw Taichi jump onto the dancing platform next to Mimi and he smiled that infectious smile. Meiko smiled back nervously and pulled away from Mimi.

Sora mouthed “King? Honestly,” in a disapproving tone of voice, although there was a smile tugging her lips. Koushirou stood up straighter.

Mimi scowled at her competitor. “Nice of you to show up,” she said.

“Nice to see you too, Princess,” he replied. He waved behind her. “Hi Meiko! You feeling all right?”

“H-hi Taichi! I’m fine,” she answered, blushing at the attention.

Sora cleared her throat. “Right. I’m going to remind everyone that Meiko doesn’t have to go on a date with either of you if she feels uncomfortable.”

“Of course not,” Taichi said.

“Of course not!” Mimi repeated in a loud voice.

“This is just about our egos,” Taichi continued cheerfully.

“This is personal,” Mimi insisted.

“Are you ready?” Taichi asked.

“I was born ready!”

“We can start on an easy level—”

“HA!” Mimi pushed the button to select a difficult level, and the music started playing. Taichi scrambled into place and the two of them started dancing on the arrow tiles.

“Good luck!” Meiko cheered from the side.

Mimi spun around and waved at Meiko, losing several points in the process. “Thank you!”

“Ah! Pay attention to the screen!” Meiko yelled.

“Oopsy daisy!” Mimi blushed and turned back to the video.

Taichi won that round. Koushirou applauded. Meiko clapped after he did.

“Two out of three?” Taichi asked.

“Obviously!” Mimi hissed. She selected a more difficult song, and the pair started dancing again.

This time, Meiko held her breath. She covered her mouth and watched them with wide eyes. Taichi didn’t miss a beat. It seemed like he had memorized this song. He was undoubtedly impressive to watch. Meanwhile, Mimi kept turning around to look at her, and Meiko would offer her a smile whenever she did. But then Mimi always lost points. Her ponytail started to come undone, and she started to sweat through her makeup.

Taichi won that round too. Koushirou applauded, and Meiko followed suit. Then Koushirou sighed and buried his face in his hands. Sora patted his back.

Taichi reached out to shake Mimi’s hand, but Mimi crossed her arms.

“Three out of five,” she insisted.

Taichi chuckled in a way that was starting to get on Meiko’s nerves. “Okay,” he agreed. He pressed the button for an easier song.

This time, Mimi kept her eyes focused on the screen. She moved her feet carefully from arrow to arrow. Then she made a mistake and she stopped moving. She stared at the ground.

“No!” Meiko shouted. Without another thought, she jumped onto the platform with Mimi.

Sora and Koushirou gasped. Taichi’s jaw dropped and he missed a bunch of points in a row.

“I’ll take the tiles on the left! You take the tiles on the right!” Meiko ordered. She had never played DDR before, but it didn’t look hard. Certainly it would be easy with only half of the dance platform.

“Okay!” Mimi agreed, beaming. She looked like she might start crying, but she stayed focused on the screen. The girls easily fell into step with each other. When the song ended, Meiko grabbed Mimi’s hand and twirled her in a circle.

Mimi sniffled and let go so that she could dab her eyes, clearly worried about her mascara. So Meiko just hugged her instead, and Mimi sighed in relief.

When the girls looked back at the screen, they saw that they had won. Sora cheered loudly.

“Congratulations,” Taichi said. He smiled rather sadly, and Meiko’s heart went out to him.

“Taichi, I’m so sorry,” Meiko said. “I’ve handled this so badly from the beginning. I-I like you a lot, but…”

“It’s fine!” Taichi held up his hands. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault that I’m insufferably dramatic. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not insufferable!” Meiko said quickly.

“Oh, he is,” Mimi drawled. “I am too, but I pull it off better!” That seemed to be Mimi’s best mature response. Meiko couldn’t help but giggle.

Mimi offered her hand, and Taichi shook it.

“You still won two out of three rounds,” Mimi said. “You deserve some sort of prize…” Her eyes fell on Koushirou.

Taichi finally lost his cool. “Ahhffblrrghz,” he mumbled incoherently.

“Koushirou!” Mimi called out. Her geeky friend turned pale. “Taichi can have the cake. You can share it with him,” she said sweetly. “Thank you for carrying it all day. You’re a doll.”

Koushirou looked relieved and he picked up the cake tray from the floor. “Anytime,” he said.

“Thanks, Mimi,” Taichi said.

“You’re sharing that cake with all of us, right?” Sora asked.

“Sure thing,” Taichi reassured her. He hopped off the platform and clapped Koushirou’s shoulder. “Thanks for being so supportive, man,” he said.

“Anytime!” Koushirou repeated. He immediately accepted Taichi’s invitation to eat and popped a bite of cake in his mouth. He had been waiting all day, after all.

Meiko was about to follow her friends off the stage, when Mimi grabbed her hands and started to sing.

“Seasons may change, winter to spring…

But I’ll love you until the end of time.

Come what may,

Come what may,

I will love you until my dying day!”

…

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

[sweetiepie08]

Rebel Z (Chapter 2)

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list please let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.  Chapter 7. Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.

[-]

Fabulosa lay just outside of Irkan-controlled space. The planet served as the epicenter of the intergalactic fashion and textiles industry. Its natural vegetation could be spun into a wide variety of luxurious fabrics and the Fabulians learned long ago how to craft the finest garments in the known universe. This made Fabulain clothing highly sought-after and the citizens very wealthy. Naturally, it became a prime target for Irkan conquest.

They tired cycles ago but it stood as a rare marked failure on the Irkan military’s record. The Fabulains knew where their worth lay. When the Armada surrounded them, they threatened to burn their own fields and destroy the secrets of how to cultivate the fiber-producing plants… unless a deal could be struck. And so, the Fabulains and the Irkens signed a treaty which began a mutually-beneficial trade agreement.

Fashion and fibers didn’t interest Tak in the slightest. She was more concerned with what the planet could offer an Irkan on the run. It was outside of Irkan territory, but close enough that the civilization would be familiar. Its technology was advanced, it offered a variety of job opportunities, and the trade agreement allowed for a steady supply of Irkan snacks. It was the perfect place for a deserter to hide.

As she entered the planet’s atmosphere, Tak switched her holo-projector to her Vortian disguise. Lately, she used it more than any other. Irkens, she found, were not well liked by the rest of the universe and, if she was going to survive out here, she needed to build trust. She spent years accruing favors for seedy lifeforms and cashed most of them in when creating her PAK reading software. Skoodge’s favor she had no specific plans for but thought it would be good to keep in her back pocket just in case. It was about to come in handy.

She parked her ship in a public hanger for a massive shopping center and instructed MiMi to wait in there. She then headed straight for the store where her target worked. Sickeningly sweet Fabulain pop music assaulted her antenna the second she walked in the door. The peppy tones from high-pitched singers grated her with their manufactured joy. It was true, Irkens enjoyed sugar, but not like this.

“Hi, welcome to Glitz N’Nat,” a familiar voice chirped beside her.

She turned to see an unusually portly Vortian employee smiling at her.

“My name is Shickil. Is there anything I can help…” his eyes scanned her up and down, “you…” a look of recognition came to his face, “with…?”

“Yes actually,” she said, reaching into a rack. The Vortian gulped. “Do you have any more of these in the back?” She pulled out a random garment. It happened to be a glaringly bright green number with orange feathers framing the neckline. It would figure she’d pull out the ugliest thing in the store.

“There’s a whole bunch right there,” he said, pointing to the rack.

“But not in my size.”

“Actually, that one looks like it would fit.”

She glanced at the garment in his hand. Damn it. It might fit. Her eye twitched. “Maybe you could use some help checking.” She grabbed the employee’s arm and dragged him to the back of the store.

“Hey Tiff,” he called to his Fabulain coworker.

The female specimen flipped her white hair and looked up from the cash register. Her black eyes followed them as they made their way to the storage room.

“I’m going to help this customer in the back real quick, okay?” the Voritan finished.

Tiff giggled and waved a bubblegum pink hand at them. “Okay, have fun with your girlfriend.”

Tak’s insides clenched and she scowled at the Fabulain. Where did that lollipop-head get off mocking her? She had enough on her plate without lower lifeforms ridiculing her about her nonexistent mating practices. Then again, it was better than the time that Urth monkey child implied she was Zim’s mate of all people.

She tossed the Vortian into the storage room and threw the universe’s ugliest dress aside. Once she had the door closed and locked, the two of them disabled their disguises. “What’s this about, Tak?” Skoodge asked, sounding defeated already.

“First of all, why’d that brainless retail drone out there call me your girlfriend?” she demanded, jabbing her thumb at the door.

“Hey, Tiff’s nice,” Skoodge argued. Odd, he never had a backbone before. “Anyway, last time you were here, they asked me who you were and I panicked. Plus, the girls keep trying to set me up with other Vortians and I needed a way to get them off my back.”

“The girls?”

“Yeah, my coworkers.” His face lit up. “Tiff, Brandy, Cheryl, Dionne… Cheryl actually invited me to her baby shower next week. I’m not sure what that entails, but I’m real excited to go.” His eager clasped hands and giant grin attested to his sincerity.

Tak’s eyes narrowed and a sly smile grew on her lips. Skoodge seemed very happy here indeed and it wouldn’t hurt to remind him who was responsible for that happiness. “Seems you’ve cultivated quite the social life here.”

“Yeah, the girls are great! They’re nice to me, we go out all the time, we have a weekly brunch date, and they don’t shoot you out of the airlock if you mess up.”

“Sounds perfect for you,” she agreed. “Of course, you only have this life thanks to the holo-clocking device I made for you.

Skoodge’s excitement quickly drained and he looked down at the device on his wrist. “Please tell me you’re not going to take it away.”

“No, of course not,” she said, putting on her gratingly sweet voice and patting him on the arm. “You can continue to stay here and live your happy little life, but you’ll recall, you promised me a favor when I gave it to you.”

He relaxed slightly. “Okay, what is it?”

“I need to have a look at your PAK.”

He gasped and his hands flew to his back. “What? My PAK? Why?”

“Listen,” she said, all sweetness dropped from her voice, “You know how Zim always seems to come out of every situation relatively unscathed, no matter how destructive?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Well, I wanted to know his secret, so I created a software that I could use to analyze his PAK for answers.”

Skoodge pulled back in shock. “You tampered with his PAK?”

“Analyzed.”

“I can’t believe you tampered with another Irkan’s PAK,” he went on, wringing his hands. “That’s a capital offence.”

“I didn’t tamper I analyzed,” she countered through gritted teeth. “There’s a big difference.”

“Is there?”

“There is. I didn’t change a thing about Zim. I only looked to see if there was anything off about him.”

“And?”

“Defective, obviously, but that’s not the weird part. While I was looking, I saw things that were… strange to say the least, things I didn’t know the PAK influenced. I analyzed my own PAK and saw the same things. I need to see yours to confirm.”

“Why mine?”

“Zim and I are both encoded with menial-level jobs,” she explained, “but you’re still encoded as an invader. I need to see if that encoding makes a difference.”

Skoodge bit his bottom lip and looked away. “I don’t know. I’m not really comfortable letting an admitted tamperer access my PAK.”

“Analyzed,” she corrected again with a hiss. Damn it, how many times? “And don’t forget, you owe me. Think you’d have this lovely, insipid little life without me? Think you’d get that invite to that baby shower as Irkan Invader Skoodge?”

His eyes dropped to the floor. “Fine, I’ll let you analyze my PAK, but you better promise not to change anything.”

“I promise, now come with me. I’ll run the program from my ship. It’s not as powerful as Zim’s base, but I chose some key elements to look at for comparison.”

“We can go out the back, just give me a minute,” Skoodge said, reactivating his disguise. “I need to ask Tiff to cover for me.”

Tak reactivated hers as well and Skoodge went back out onto the shop’s floor. She watched as he talked with his coworker. The two parted with a laugh. “And watch out for flying shoes,” Tiff called as he walked away.

“I will,” Skoodge laughed.

Tak raised an eyelid. “Flying shoes?”

“It’s just an inside joke,” Skoodge replied, the pride in his voice betraying the fact that he’d never been on the inside of any joke before.

Oh and you have? It was true, she never spent much time socializing in her training days. There were more important things to worry about. She was a little busy making herself the best of the best. And what a lot of good that did you, right? Whatever, it was Zim’s fault she never took her rightful place in the Irkan military. If it weren’t for Zim, all that hard work would have paid off. Would it, Defective?

“Can we get this over with, please?” Tak growled. The sooner she figured out what was going on with the PAKs, the sooner she could get back to crushing Zim.

She led Skoodge to her ship in the parking hanger. Once inside, she activated the opaque tinting of the windows, deactivated her disguise, and fired up her computer. “Okay, all I’m going to do is plug into your PAK and read your stats. Got it?”

Skoodge deactivate his disguise as well. “Okay…” he said, still sounding apprehensive.

Tak rolled her eyes and plugged in his PAK. Once in, she saw Skoodge’s ID page come up on her screen.

Name: Skoodge

Age: 16.6

Occupation: Invader

Assignment: Pending

“Hmm…” Her eyes lingered on the “assignment” line. “They never reassigned you after Blorch?”

Skoodge sighed and looked at the ground. “No…”

That was interesting. Typically, after an invader completed their mission, they’d either be assigned to a new planet after a period of rest or rewarded with a cushy retirement. Given Skoodge’s youth, he should have been sent out again. She didn’t need to look further than the expanse of space above his head to guess why he wasn’t.

She pressed on. Unfortunately, her ship’s computer wasn’t powerful enough to run a full error check, but it could take a look at his personality drive. More specifically, she wanted to see the PAK installations and the Irkan traits.

Pak Installations

·        Perseverance: 20/20

·        Loyalty: 5/15

·        Penchant for Destruction: 10/15

·        Susceptibility to Propaganda: 5/15

So, Skoodge’s stats were also out of balance, not quite as bad as Zim’s (or mine), but was this enough to mark him as defective? She swiped over to his Irkan traits.

Irkan Traits

·        Creativity: 10/10

·        Personal ambition: 5/5

·        Need for companionship: 523/0

·        Need for affection: 443/0

·        Sense of individuality: 231/0

·        Individual survival instinct: 4803/10

That confirmed it. Another defective. Interesting. As an invader, his ideal levels may be higher than most, but they still didn’t match up with his actual levels. What were the odds that all three PAKs were defective? Could it be possible that most, if not all PAKs were defective to some degree? No, she couldn’t generalize yet. She only analyzed a small sample size and all three PAKs belonged to Irkans living outside normal society. It was much more likely that defectives tended to live outside the norm and were therefore easier for her to contact. If she wanted definitive answers, she’d need more information, but she couldn’t just go find more Irkens and start analyzing their PAKs. At the very least it’d raise suspicion. At worst, they’d assume treason was afoot. She needed to find another way.

“So? What’d you see?”

Oh right, Skoodge. She nearly forgot he was there. “Well, it looks like you’re defective.”

“What? No!” He jumped toward the screen. “How can this be?”

“My ship isn’t powerful enough for a full diagnostic, but your levels are out of balance,” she explained. “From what I can tell, that’s a sure sign of defectiveness.”

“But I conquered Blorch,” he went on. His hysterical voice was grating on her nerves. “I was the first to complete my mission in Operation Impending Doom 2. How can I-”

“Calm down. At least you’re not as defective as Zim and-” She stopped herself quick. “Anyway, I’m starting to wonder what being a defective really means.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, look at some of this stuff,” she said, gesturing toward the screen. “A functioning PAK will block natural Irkan assets.”

“Not really, I’ve still got some ambition, some creativity…”

“Because you’re an invader. It changes with encoding. A PAK with a low-class encoding has most of these set to 0. It doesn’t make sense. If we are the superior race, why block what makes us superior?”

“Well, I guess an invader would need certain traits to do our jobs…”

“But why just invaders?” she argued. “Why not allow all Irkens access to their natural traits?”

He thought for a moment. “You checked your PAK, right?”

“Yes…”

“So, what did yours say?”

Her lips tightened into a scowl. “We’re getting off the subject. Here, look at your stats,” she said, turning his attention back to the numbers on the screen. “Your survival instinct is much higher than it’s meant to be. That probably kept you alive on Blorch. And your need for companionship drives your desire to socialize. Thanks to that defect, you’ve got your little group of friends here. Would you trade them for a fully functioning PAK?”

“No!” he gasped, looking more devastated than he did when she told him he was defective.

“That’s my point. If defects can bring positive results, are they really defects?”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” he agreed.

There’s something else wrong here, but what? Skoodge, by all accounts should be a war hero. He conquered his planet in less than 0.1 cycles; a record time as far as invasions went. And yet, he was a defective. Did his defects give him the advantage? If that were the case, perhaps her defects helped her rise to the top of her training class. It would make sense. Her supposed defects included having “too much” ambition and “too much” perseverance. Those are the traits that pushed her to excellence.  Surely, they could not be mistakes.

“What about Zim?”

Skoodge’s question broke her from her musings. “What about him?”

“You said he’s defective. If you think defects aren’t that bad…”

“He’s still a walking catastrophe!” she snapped. “I never said all defects were a good thing, just in some cases.”

This did raise an interesting point. Zim, also a defective, without a doubt brought disaster with his every move. Maybe the concept of a defective wasn’t the problem, but how it was measured. Perhaps there was even an issue with the encoding process all together.

She needed to research this future, but she had no idea how. Knowledge on PAK programing was off limits to all but those encoded as PAK maintenance specialists. Even if this information was widely available, she couldn’t show her face in Irkan-controlled space any time soon. Abandoning her post was essentially self-imposed exile. If she didn’t return with a victory that would impress the Tallest, she couldn’t go back at all.

Perhaps solving this mystery could earn her enough glory to pardon her desertion charges and raise her to a rank more worthy of her skills. She could start by researching the history of the PAK, but how?

“So, uh, what’d you go all quiet for?” Skoodge asked, breaking her thoughts once again.

“I was just thinking, where, outside of Irkan territory, I could I go to research PAKs?”

“You could try Refirencee,” Skoodge suggested.

“Where?”

“It’s an info-database planet near Meekrob,” he explained. “They gather the histories and knowledge of all known planets and compile them in one place.”

“Sounds like an obvious target for conquest.”

“Yeah, but it’s under Meekrobian protection, so the plan was to wait until Tenn took Meekrob, then take all the data in the spoils.”

“Hmm…” It was a start at least, though it was suicide for any Irkan to get anywhere near Meekrob these days. Her Vortion disguise and ship should give her enough cover to pass through without suspicion. It worked well enough so far. “Do you know the coordinates for this planet?”

“No, but your ship could have it’s coordinates in its data base. This is a Vortian vessel, after all. The Meekrob only hide the planet from Irkens. Everyone else is free to use it.”

Excellent, a better lead than she expected. “I think we’re done here, Skoodge,” she said, disconnecting his PAK. This favor paid off in spades. “Go, enjoy your baby shower.”

“Thanks.” They reactivated their disguises and Skoodge hopped out of the ship. “And, uh, if you’re ever around, feel free to say hi.”

Tak looked up, the invitation catching her off-guard. “Oh, uh, sure…”

“Bye,” Skoodge gave a little wave and headed back to his job. MiMi returned with a wave of her own.

Tak turned back to her computer. After a quick check for the closest fueling station, she ran a search for the Refirencee coordinates. The search was a success. A holographic diagram of the planet shown from the computer’s projectors.

“Well, MiMi,” she said, smiling at the projection, “it’s time we got some answers.”

[glimmerkeith]

here is a small snippet of potential romcom au sequel. that is all.

“Well, I can’t thank you both enough for coming...getting another year older is better with good friends, yes?”

“Good drinks usually help too,” John quipped, but he meant it well enough--and certainly, plenty of that had flowed tonight. He hadn’t honestly expected otherwise, and was now feeling a pleasant buzz to accompany that.

Klaus cast him a sideways look at that. “Do you...need to spend the night?”

“John’s a shit driver even when he’s sober,” Ringo chuckled from his other side. “Nah, it’s Paul that drove you both here, right?”

Ringo’s assessment of John’s driving capabilities was painfully accurate, and it was definitely the more responsible driver of the two who’d brought them here tonight. Paul was now talking with Maureen, Ringo’s wife, as she buckled her son into his carseat. In the gathering twilight, the violet light shone on the matching highlights Mo had recently applied to her hair as she chattered away to her companion.

Zak wasn’t even two years old, but the good-tempered little chap had slumbered most of the birthday gathering away….either that or being passed from one cooing, adoring party guest to the next, and Paul was certainly one of them.

But now, the small party of guests who had gotten together for Klaus’ birthday had gone, leaving just the group of them. George had excused himself a bit earlier to go check on how his plants were coming along in the greenhouse, the hulking shape of which could be seen on the other side of the vast (though mostly barren) garden that stood just outside his and Klaus’ house.

He’d owned the property and his own nursery for a year now, but had been so busy grubbing around outside that the interior of the actual house was by and large left to his artistically-minded boyfriend, who had taken up the challenge of turning what had been a frankly dumpy little cottage into something much brighter and sleeker.

“The place looks like it should be in a magazine,” Ringo had proclaimed upon first seeing the updated interior, and George had given a little shrug.

“It’s on account that he’s a Taurus,” He’d said, as if that explained everything--but there was a degree of pride in his voice too. John had been so impressed that he’d eventually commissioned Klaus to help him with a project of his own, the grand opening of which was mere days away now.

In any case, the nursery itself wasn’t too far of a drive from London, but just enough that the lush green hills and trees of the nearby forest made it seem like almost a different world completely. George looked the happiest John had probably ever seen him these days.

And it had been a happy two years of his own as well, he thought now, gaze lingering on Paul a moment when Ringo made the crack about his driving. Sometimes, it was still a little hard to believe. “Yeah, uh...only one of us has a spotless driving record here. It’s not me.”

George came shuffling up from the greenhouse then, having earlier changed into his gardening Crocs, a holey T-shirt, and muddy jeans to do his mucking around--honestly, he looked a fright, but Klaus’ whole face lit up when he came near. “How are things, love?”

“They’re looking good.” George’s gaze swiveled back over to John then. “Hey, so remind me again when the bookstore’s re-opening is?”

“This Thursday, ten sharp. And you all are on the very exclusive VIP list, so I’d better see you there. Or you’re getting your eyes poked out.”

George gave him his familiar craggy grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They all bade their goodbyes then, and John climbed into the passenger seat of Paul’s car. They weren’t long on the road before he reached his hand out, and Paul took it in his.

“George is coming on Thursday, then?”

“Yeah, he is. Him and...well, just about everyone else I know, I guess.”

“It’s a big deal, John. Your new premises and all...you’ve even got a bloody cafe in the new place. You know it’s the real deal then.”

He was teasing, but in truth, installing a coffee bar in his new bookshop had been a moment of immense pride for John. Just how he had managed to get from the tiny, one-floor studio he’d once had for his bookshop to real, proper lodgings was still a subject of great pride and gratitude.

Raising the funds for it had been by and large his old assistant Cynthia Powell’s doing. When she got her art degree, she’d soon moved onto doing design for a local magazine, and she’d arranged for John to give an interview about owning one’s own business in Soho. It had done surprisingly good numbers, and business had picked up to the point where John actually had to hire some real staff members--and then, eventually, completely relocate to bigger and better premises.

And Paul had been there for him every step of the way. Every time he had another fight with the building contractors, or couldn’t figure out just how he was going to pay the light bill, and not to mention relocating into a new flat of his own to be closer to the new shop...just all of it. He had his friends, of course, but John couldn’t remember a time when another person had been so supportive of him. Not overly critical, as Aunt Mimi (and, bless his soul, George too) could be, or wishy-washy like Ringo. Just himself.

“I can’t wait for you to see the final thing,” He told him now with a grin. Though Paul had helped with arranging a lot of the bookshelves and painting the walls, John had deliberately kept him out of the place during the past few weeks as the final touches all came together. When he stepped into the bookshop on Thursday for the opening, it would be a surprise for him too.

“I still don’t know why you had to keep me in the dark for it,” Paul chided him. “I saw the couches you were ordering online, y’know. I would have helped move them in.”

“It’s so it’s a surprise!” John insisted. “You know, like how it’s bad luck or something for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the big day--”

“Oh?” Paul arched a thin eyebrow, and John couldn’t help but flush a bit.

“OK, that’s just one--and kind of dumb--example. You know, I...I just want…” He trailed off for a moment, looking at the countryside speeding out the window nearby, as he forced his tongue to untangle and tell the truth. “I want you to be proud. Is all.”

Paul’s hand intertwined with his tightened a little, and he briefly stole a glance over at him. “Oh, John...I am. Believe me, I am. I know how much this means to you.”

John lifted their hands up and pressed a brief kiss to Paul’s. He knew that too, could tell that Paul was still happy to be with him...but every so often, that niggling doubt would worm into his head that it was only a matter of time before things went the same way as Stu. And this was more than that, deeper than that, if this wasn’t built to last than John wouldn’t be able to stand it.

The past (and not just with his relationship with Stu) had made him warier than he’d ever wanted to be. But without that same past, he might not be sitting here now, hand in hand with the best thing that had ever walked into his life. 

As he had taken his bookshop and made it grow, nurtured it until it flourished like a flower in one of George’s gardens, he had to keep doing the same with other parts of his life too. Which was why he had deliberately set aside a portion of the money he’d made selling the old shop. 

Just in case, he thought, he had to buy something that cost a little more. He was not done building his life yet.

[buttsonthebeach]

PROMPT: penelope + leah, "licking your fingers clean of her."

AT LAST. We shall be a fandom of two (2) people with WLW farmers in Stardew Valley.

Obviously not Dragon Age. I do love Stardew Valley for those who didn’t know that! This will be on AO3 very very soon.

Pairing: Female Player x Leah / Penelope x Leah, Stardew Valley

Rating: Explicit! Sexy times and also cursing.

Note: Bit of a character study, some spoilers for Leah’s romance.

**************

Penelope liked facts and figures. She made a mean spreadsheet. It was what Joja Corporation hired her for. Her degree in biology was uninteresting to them. Her minute attention to detail and near obsessive need for planners and organization? That they could use. For eight hours a day. In a dimly lit cubicle. She could plan the shit out of their payroll and organize their files for new hires and -

Fuck. Just thinking about it made her feel claustrophobic all over again.

So the whole point of coming to Stardew Valley, to Grandpa’s farm, was to get away from all that.

And now she found herself sitting on the porch of her newly renovated farmhouse, her cat Jin rolling around in a sunbeam on the porch, staring at a spreadsheet of her expected yields and profits from her last fall harvest, and projections of how much she would need to mine over the winter if she wanted to a) eat b) renovate the house again and c) buy more animals to sell more animal products so she wouldn’t have to break her back all winter in the mine.

Fuck.

It was then that she heard the heavy drag of footsteps coming up the gravel path she’d laid down - the one that ran between her young cherry saplings, past the small pond, and towards Cindersnap Forest. She looked up from her laptop and shaded her eyes against the early morning sunshine. Someone was coming towards her - red hair - Leah?

Leah, who’d barely spoken a word to her at first, who she only met by chance one Friday in the Stardrop Saloon in late spring because she rarely left her cabin. Leah who tucked her hair behind her ears over and over again when she was nervous and let it fall out of its braid when she waved her hands excitedly, discussing her latest sculpture and how it conveyed the utter isolation of a crowded subway platform in Zuzu City.

Leah who seemed so unflappable until she got on the phone with Kel, her ex-girlfriend.

Leah who was scared to show off her sculptures to anyone but Penelope.

Leah.

Fuck.

Leah made Penelope’s heart speed up the way only one other person had before - Marie, her college sweetheart, the woman who abruptly broke her heart the night before they were supposed to move into their first apartment together. Which led to her taking the job at Joja to afford the place since she couldn’t get out of the lease, instead of getting her masters in microbiology the way she’d planned. Which led to her gaining twenty pounds as she binge-watched Wynonna Earp and sampled every single Ben and Jerry’s flavor they sold at her local (you guessed it) Joja Mart.

Which ultimately led to her sitting on this sunny porch worrying about eggplants and why on earth it was she wasn’t allowed to use a goddamn gun to kill the monsters in the mine (she was shit at the slingshot).

Which ultimately led to Leah, walking up the gravel path, making her heart beat the way she thought it never would again.

Leah had a statue behind her. She was dragging it on some kind of dolley behind her. It was at least as tall as she was, and brown as the corduroy pants she wore no matter the season (brown as her kind eyes). Her face was flushed with effort but she was beaming as she made her way to the house.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” she assured Penelope, waving off her offer of assistance. On the porch, Jin stood and arched her back and meowed plaintively at Leah, as if she hadn’t already been pet and coddled for half an hour that morning while Penelope lay in bed.

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Leah said when she reached the farmhouse, beaming despite her sweat.

“Sure is,” Penelope replied, her heart speeding up again. Leah kept right on beaming.

“I’ve got a gift for you. It’s a sculpture I’ve been working on just for you. Well, you probably figured that out. Ta-da!” She waved to the sculpture with a flourish. It was mahogany, and nearly as tall as Penelope herself. It looked like it was made of a series of loops rising organically out of the earth.

“It’s called How I Feel About Penelope,” Leah said. There she went with the tucking-the-hair-behind-the-ears. How I feel about Penelope. Leah who was so shy she had to speak through wood to make herself heard.

So what was this sculpture saying?

Penelope knew she should have taken that art history elective.

“It’s amazing,” Penelope said. “And I know exactly where it’s going to go.”

“Here, let me help!”

“Oh, it’s fine - the bedroom’s a mess -”

“Nonsense.”

The truth was that the bedroom was fine, but Penelope wasn’t sure she wanted Leah to know that that’s where she wanted the statue to go - right where she would always be able to see it when she woke. But in the end Leah didn’t seem to mind the placement at all. She praised Penelope’s choice, her feng shui, the way it went with the deep green wallpaper she’d just ordered from a catalogue.

“I like it,” Leah said just as she was getting ready to leave. “I like how you bring nature inside.”

I like you, Penelope thought, but the words wouldn’t come.

Leah left, and Penelope went back into the bedroom and stood looking at the statue - its curving, arching arms, its strength, its flexibility. How I feel about Penelope.

She went back out on the porch and closed the laptop, pushing the spreadsheet from her mind. She would be flexible. She would walk the farm and smell the soil and not stress over every cent. She would just be. Like Leah and her sculpture.

*

It wasn’t the last sculpture Leah would show her. Not by a long shot. They spent the rest of that fall and then a good part of the winter that followed working on sculptures for her art show, which Penelope had finally persuaded her to move forward with. It was a good distraction from the nagging feeling in the back of Penelope’s mind - that no matter how hard she worked, how many times she counted up how much food she had saved up for her livestock and frozen in the fridge for herself, she wasn’t doing enough.

“Winter is when all of nature rests and resets,” Leah told her. “You should rest and reset, too.”

But sitting around her own farmhouse only led to fidgeting and spreadsheets (what was wrong with her) and watching too many cooking shows on her TV, or taking too many pictures of Jin lolling about cutely on the floor while secretly counting and recounting how much more lumber she needed to have Robin build another barn and how quickly she could reasonably afford it because if she had another barn she could get more goats and then -

So resting and resetting became going to Leah’s house with some freshly gathered hazelnuts to roast over her fireplace, or maybe some poppyseed muffins - and then, finally, her very first batch of homemade raspberry wine. And then they’d sit there by the fire and Leah would wax poetic about the sculptures she was considering for the show, how they challenged personhood and celebrated her favorite mediums and how she left things intentionally unclear for the viewer to provoke thought. It was exactly the sort of thing Penelope used to overhear in the quad in her college days, and scoff at. How could people spend their whole lives overthinking about art to that degree?

But now she was starting to get it. Leah shaved away seemingly random scraps of wood from a large block and beauty and meaning emerged. And Penelope forgot about the exact alkalinity of her soil and whether she should plant three fields of cauliflower next season or do kale instead and get more harvests out of it or if that would deplete the nutrients -

Okay, so it didn’t make her forget completely. But Leah’s little cabin was still an oasis, and Leah was still so beautiful and smart and kind, and Penelope was hopelessly in love.

It was the kind of realization that dawned slowly over the course of their daily conversations, not something that hit her like a thunderclap. When Penelope thought back over it later, she thought the exact moment might have been when she came out of the bathroom and saw Leah looking at the window at the drifting snow, a content smile on her face. She loved Leah. She hadn’t even held her hand, and she loved her. She felt safe with her. She understood more of the world through her eyes. She loved her.

So she went to Pierre’s store and bought a bouquet of flowers - the biggest and most beautiful he had in the dead of winter - and she carried them over to Leah’s house. And she stood there on the step, holding them with trembling hands, because nothing had ever been as scary as this. Not coming out to her parents. Not sitting alone in that empty apartment after Marie left. Not quitting Joja and getting on the bus to Pelican Town. Nothing scared her as much as the idea that she, with all her facts and figures and anxieties, wouldn’t be good enough for the woman she loved.

Leah’s eyes lit up like the lights in the town square when she saw Penelope standing there.

“Are these - are these what I think they are?” she asked.

“Well - if you think they’re special flowers that are saying I want you to be my girlfriend then - yes?”

Leah laughed and laughed, and then she kissed her, and it was suddenly the warmest winter Penelope had ever known.

**

Penelope hadn’t doubted she was gay since the sixth grade and her first crush ever (Mimi Marquez from Rent). But damn, did Leah manage to remind her every day.

Leah would be covered in sweat from working hard on a large sculpture and Penelope would look at her and think damn, I’m gay.

Leah would show up with ingredients to make dinner one evening, knowing Penelope would be exhausted from working in the mine, and she would hear her gentle laughter in the kitchen while she iced her back in the other room and think damn, I’m gay.

Leah would kiss her hard and fast, pressed up against the kitchen counter, and then Penelope would hardly be able to think at all, but if she was, the only real thought that would come would be I am so, so, so gay.

And also that she was so, so in love.

Leah wanted to take things slow after everything that happened with Kel, which suited Penelope fine. There were plenty of long make-out sessions on one of their couches, and many long walks in the snow, hand in hand. And then there was one night, towards the end of winter, when a late snowstorm kicked up and make it hard to see even a foot past the windows of the farmhouse.

“You know, I try not to make a habit of quoting carols - but it really is cold outside. You could stay,” Penelope offered, tentatively.

Leah beamed with quiet warmth, her nose scrunching, as she hid her face behind her mug of hot chocolate.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

When they got to the bedroom, Leah undressed before Penelope could offer to give her some privacy. She got to watch the arch of her back as she pulled the sweater over her head, see the gentle pudge of her stomach sticking out over the band of her cotton underwear, the freckles on her legs and the red hair that covered them, fuck -

“Ooh, this looks cozy. Can I borrow it?” Leah held up a big, ratty pink sweater.

“Uh huh.” Penelope hoped she didn’t look as dazed as she sounded. Leah pulled on the sweater. It brushed the tops of her thighs and swayed against her butt as she walked over to the bathroom, and Penelope felt delicious, wet heat sinking into the space between her legs. She knew what she was thinking about the next time she pulled her beloved vibrator out of the bedside table and teased herself all over before sliding it home so it pulsed against her G-spot and buzzed against her clit at the same time - those legs.

Maybe she’d think about those legs brushing against her face as she licked her -

“Hey, honey - do you mind if I use the last of this lotion you’ve got here? It smells amazing.”

“Go ahead,” Penelope said after she cleared her throat. “I, uh, made it myself. With those crocuses I gathered the other day.”

“Mm. Nice.”

She wasn’t staring.

She was not staring at Leah as she spread the lotion between her hands, propped a leg up on the bed, and began smoothing it over her freckled skin. She was definitely not staring at the way the sweater rode up and gave her a view of that white cotton underwear -

“Uh, I should get ready for bed too I guess,” she said at last.

“Yeah,” Leah laughed, scooping up more lotion. “I’m definitely not sleeping next to you in your dirty mining clothes.”

Oh god, she probably smelled like goat and cow and chicken and sheep and clay and granite dust from the quarry. She hadn’t thought of that.

“Shit, sorry. I should probably shower.”

“I didn’t say that,” Leah said. Her smile as she capped the lotion was more sultry. “I happen to like the way you smell, you know.”

She was staring again.

At the pink bow ofLeah’s lips, at the end of her braid where it swung over her shoulder.

She was aching between her legs at the thought of running her fingers through that hair. Of sliding her fingers in somewhere else.

“Penelope?”

Leah looked both confused and amused. She’d been staring again.

“Shit, fuck, sorry, I - I’m just, like, really, really turned on right now.”

The only way to describe the smile that Leah gave her then was catlike. It was sly and full of promise and doing absolutely nothing to make Penelope less turned on.

“Oh good. I was wondering about that. Because I’m pretty turned on right now, too.”

Yes.

Leah was as slow and gentle as Penelope had imagined. Her kisses were long and sweet. Her skin was soft and warm. She liked it when Penelope sucked her nipples into hard points and when she bit down on the side of her neck - and she liked it best of all when Penelope pulled down her underwear and ran her fingers along her wet, swollen cunt.

“Yes, I want you just like that,” she murmured. No shyness here, not naked and spread out on the quilt under the winter starlight.

“Just like this?” Penelope asked, her voice barely a whisper. This all felt like a mirage that could slip away at any moment. No matter how real and slick and perfect the flesh under her fingers was.

“Yeah - now kiss me -”

No one had to tell her twice to kiss Leah.

She kissed her as she slid one finger and then another inside her. She kissed her as she rubbed the pad of her thumb in a slow, wide circle around her clit. She stopped kissing her only to make sure that that was good. (“Yeah, slow like that, slow like that is good.”) She kissed her again until the sweet pressure of Leah’s thigh between her legs was becoming too much, when she had to rock against it over and over and over because it just felt so good on her own clit. She kissed her until Leah kept saying more, more, more and all her focus had to be on fucking her with her fingers and thumbing her clit now and then, until a beautiful pink flush spread all over Leah’s skin and her eyes screwed shut with ecstasy and she came, cunt squeezing tight around Penelope’s fingers, and the sight was so beautiful that it had Penelope rubbing frantically against Leah’s thigh - and then Leah recovered enough to slide her own fingers in-between them, and it was just enough pressure, just enough friction, and Penelope felt her own clit swell and twitch and then throb with pleasure as she came, too.

Then there was time to kiss again.

Time to lick the taste of Leah from her fingers.

“You’re kind of perfect, you know,” Leah said, lying there warm and pink and satisfied beneath her. Penelope felt herself glow from the inside out. She was perfect to the woman she loved - anxieties, insecurities, spreadsheets and all

***

The day they got married was kind of perfect, too. It was nearly a year to the day since they first met in the Stardrop Saloon - a late spring day filled with drifting blossoms and the smell of fresh earth. The Community Center wasn’t rebuilt, not completely, and the cherry saplings weren’t coming in as fast as Penelope would have liked, and yields on the kale had been low so far, and one of the goats might be sick and she was behind on collecting lumber for the new coop -

But it was perfect.

It was perfect because Leah was her wife.

Because after the heartache of Marie and the soul-sucking boredom of Joja and the terrifying risk of coming to Stardew Valley - it was all worth it.

Waking the morning after to their little farmhouse and Jin meowing for more food and Leah already in the kitchen, making coffee, humming a song - it was all worth it. The kind of thing you couldn’t plan for in a spreadsheet. The kind of thing she hadn’t dared to hope for in a long time.

Penelope rose, ready to tackle the day.

[uglysantas]

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shall he not make it good romans 8 28 34 and we know that all things work together for good to them that love god to them who are the called according to his purpose for whom he did foreknow he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his son that he might be the firstborn among many brethren moreover whom he did predestinate them he also called and whom he called them he also justified and whom he justified them he also glorified what shall we then say to these things if god be for us who can be against us he that spared not his own son but delivered him up for us all how shall he not with him also freely give us all things who shall lay any thing to the charge of god’s elect it is god that justifieth who is he that condemneth it is christ that died yea rather that is risen again who is even at the right hand of god who also maketh intercession for us romans 8 37 in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us www njchurch org sermons change mp3 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fruit is ripe it gets a new beautiful color red yellow or green now it is time to look up lift your head and pluck the fruit and enjoy it’s delicious taste our lord jesus christ the fruit we have waited for 2 000 years is coming to transform our vile body into the likeness of his divine godly immortal body we will look like him and be with him for evermore the fruit on the tree is about to ripen what we lived longed and hoped for is about to happen look up at the tree of life jesus christ and enjoy his fruit song of solomon 2 3 as the apple tree among the trees of the wood so is my beloved among the sons I sat down under his shadow with great delight and his fruit was sweet to my taste psalms 24 7 10 lift up your heads o ye gates and be ye lift up ye everlasting doors and the king of glory shall come in who is this king of glory the lord strong and mighty the lord mighty in battle lift up your heads o ye gates even lift them up ye everlasting doors and the king of glory shall come in 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[g-unitedke-blog]

Gundua Feature: Cecilia Talks About Adjusting to, and Changing Mindsets, in a Different Community

Creating an impact in the Community

Masinde Muliro University of Science & Technology graduate Cecilia Gibore who hails from Migori County, was posted to Chai Primary School, in Chai village, a place where she got to realze there was not just potential in herself, but in the idle land and the community around her.

‘I thought of starting a kitchen garden for my host mother. I planted kunde, sukuma wiki, mchicha and paw paw, all of which ended up doing very well,’ Cecilia says.

Little did Cecilia know that this was the beginning or a revelation and a realization for the community, once shopkeepers noticed that her host mother was no longer buying green vegetables from the local market, but instead starting to earn an income from the sale of home grown edibles, right from their backyard.

‘Given the interest that started to build up, I resolved to use the knowledge which I had gained and teach them to practice some basic farming methods: a good number of them began subsistence farming.

‘To my surprise, my host mother went to the extent of planting maize and cassava. She keeps telling me how she currently enjoys farming, which indeed is a great achievement.

 Life at the Coast

‘In life, we may do things that we never thought we would end up doing. For sure, just from the training I got at the Kenya Education Management Institute (KEMI) in Nairobi, ahead of my service here, I did not yet fully comprehend just what laid ahead, on the ground.

‘Everything seemed different and so strange, way beyond anything that I had ever dreamed of. Today, I can say that I have grown in leaps and bounds, achieving radical changes in my attitude towards others, the value we place on things, and general personal development.

‘Why do I say this? Well firstly, because I am a Christian who was posted to a predominantly muslim community. My hosts were all muslim, and to me, this was a big shock. Initially I thought I was lost. I honestly felt disappointed and discouraged as I set out in this journey.

‘I vividly remember the day I arrived at Chai, and when I welcomed by my host mum to sit on a cemented desk made behind the wall to wait for my host father. My heart was beating so fast, and I constantly asked myself what the next steps I would take were. I thought I would not make it in this mission.

‘I was confused, seeing women in long dresses which swept the road as they walked around - I was as well not used to seeing people cover their heads, even during very hot weather. More embarrassing to me, wherever I was passing by, people would turn back and look at me in amazement. One would think that I was lost and that I found myself within their community.

‘This situation initially made me fearful of walking out of the host family compound, unless when I was going to school. Even more perplexing were some terminologies that I did not understand. I was asked many questions, by so many people, including young children and most of the time I didn’t know how to answer them. During this year’s Ramadhan, I was on toes for as long as I could remember, hoping not to offend by buying something from the shop to eat before 6.00pm, or announcing that I was heading to church – I was just fearful.

Cecilia’s host mother

One night as I sat on my bed, I considered giving up, convinced that I would not survive here for very long. I packed my bag ready to vamoose. But then it dawned on me, what would my significant other think about me just quitting something I was passionate about at the start? What would become of the children with whom I had started read aloud sessions with?

I felt pain in my heart because of the attachment that we had established through interaction. Funnily enough, I had given them an assignment which they were to present the following day. I began to brighten up as I focused more on the positives, which seemed to have been temporarily clouded. The hospitable teachers at Chai Primary School had given my co –volunteer and I such a warm welcome: what would they think of me just quitting?

Lastly, I thought of my host family, who had tried as much as possible to make me feel at home, and be part of them, despite the differences in our religious beliefs. It was at that point that I changed my mind, offloading my bag, placing everything back where it was, and peacefully slept.

The following day, I went to school and shared my story with a teacher whom I most related to. She consoled me by encouraging me not to fear, but instead to pray ceaselessly and face my fears. I did just that and trusted that God would work everything out well in my favour, and for sure, He did.

The teacher went to the extent of regularly making tea from her home, and bringing for both my co-volunteer and I, at school. The Ramadhan period soon came to an end, with its climax being an exciting period for the locals – I was also enticed to attend one of the ceremonies at a nearby sports field. It was a wonderful idea! Everybody in attendance, including myself, thoroughly enjoyed the day which was full of happiness, dancing and a number of games.

To quote scripture, Ecclesiastes 3:1 says that “everything that happens in this world happens at God’s chosen time”. Indeed from the celebrations, I had to change my perception of a different religion from mine which led me to start really enjoying everything I saw and did around, as I immersed myself into the community and the general experience.

 Changing Mindsets May be a Longer Process

The way children at the Coast are nurtured is totally different from the way people from upcountry, or ‘bara’ as Coasterians refer to us, do.

Children from the Coast have a lot of freedom, if I may put it so. Children speak or respond to their parents like they do their friends, which to me, seemed like a bit of indiscipline. On the flip side, I could recall how I grew up; with no-nonsense parents who demanded lots of respect. When they spoke, we all kept quiet. No one could dare raise his/her head and look at my father direct into his eyes.

However, to these children, their parents were like them; they could shout on top of their voices to their parents. When sent for some chores and they felt they could not do it, they would simply refuse by saying ‘siendi’, ‘sitaki’ and that’s all. I was so surprise that as young as a grade two pupil would just refuse to go to school and in case the parents insists, she would simply cry out loud saying ‘sitaki mimi kuenda shule’ and the mother would calm him/her down confirming to have agreed to his/her opinion.

Sincerely speaking, my co-VGA and I tried to implement disciplinary measures through guidance sessions. Despite our several trials, I have to admit that we didn’t achieve much, largely due to the lack of support from locals since they did not see any need. I however did not lose hope. I pledged to do this to small numbers and groups of children at any point I met them.

I began with my two younger ‘sisters’ at the host family, as well as the struggling readers after sessions, youth in churches, and their parents. This bore some impact, though it still seemed like a small feat.

On the other hand, I am learning that perhaps parents should not be too authoritative with their children. In everything they say or do to the children, or want the children to do, the views of the young ones should be heard as well.

 At the home of my host family, we were fortunate to have tap water, though there came a time that the water levels went down and the pressure was too low that water could not reach home. Therefore, after school, my 2 young adoptive sisters and I would go down to the river to fetch water. I vividly recall the last time I went to the river, I was in class seven. I had even forgotten how to carry and balance water on my head. It was a good experience which I enjoyed doing for my host family. During the weekends, we would pile our dirty clothes in basins and go to the river to wash them, as we watched other children frolicking in the water and swimming.

Where I come from, we do a lot of farming. However, despite the large size of farms owned by my host family, nothing was being grown on the land. I decided to establish a kitchen garden for my lovely host mother: I planted sukuma, kunde, mchicha and paw paws. My host mother, who would initially buy green vegetables from the local market, soon became the seller, and was so happy about this, requesting me to continue with the farming.

“I celebrate and thank G–United for giving me this golden opportunity to serve in a community with different religious beliefs from mine,” says Cecilia. “These are a people that I had never dreamed of staying with, let alone being in the presence of. Where I come from, there are just a few scattered Muslims. In fact I used to fear them and mostly the ladies who would wear long flowing robes which would cover their whole faces except for the eyes [known as hijabs].

Truly speaking; this has been a once in a lifetime opportunity that has helped me change my attitude and perception of a lot of things in life and one which I will never forget.

INTERESTED IN APPLYING TO JOIN G-UNITED? GO HERE >> Application Link

***

Gundua is a series that follows the journey of G-United fellows as they share their volunteer experiences from across Kenya’s counties. More about G-United

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