#Gold Pan Saloon

[sofaeatspaint]

garlic aioli ……. so good but ………. at what cost ………

[stimmylgbt]

Cowboyqueer: A gender connected to being a cowboy in a queer way.

[ID: A 3x3 stimboard of 8 GIFs surrounding a central image.

GIF 1: A pan-over of a canyon with a river at the bottom.

GIF 2: Someone showing off the brown boots they're wearing, holding a foot to the camera then crossing their legs while standing.

GIF 3: A camera pan-over of connected, old west storefronts, a red one labelled "Livery Barn Cafe" and a brown one labelled "Crystal Palace Saloon".

GIF 4: A light-skinned person person pulling back the cocking handle on a rifle, a spent magazine flying out.

Image: A flag with 13 mostly equal-sized stripes. Top to bottom, the stripes are brown, light brown, yellow-brown, red-brown, light red-brown, very light red-brown, off white, very light red-brown, light red-brown, red-brown, yellow-brown, light brown, brown. In the center is a gold star with dots on each point.

GIF 5: Someone picking a spool of rope up off a hook.

GIF 6: A closeup of light-skinned hands shaving a strip off the edge of a brown leather belt.

GIF 7: A heart-shaped horse shoe being shown off then set on an anvil.

GIF 8: A field of tall grasses blowing gently in the wind, lit under warm sunlight.

End ID]

🐴 🐴 🐴 / ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ / 🤠 🤠 🤠

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - Chapter 10: No

Summary: Arthur is in a bad mood. By giving him something else to be focused on, you're hoping he'll forget all about the ugliness of the the afternoon.

Warnings: Swearing; Shorter than some of my earlier postings

A/N:  From a writing stand-point, this is not my best work. But, I thought it was a cute idea to further develop their relationship.

*This fantastic image does not belong to me. This comes from @alexj2539. Check them out! 

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Arthur is in such a foul mood. Apparently, everything that can go wrong, did go wrong today. 

He rode four hours to meet a man about a tip, only to find out it was a dead-end. Frustrated, he stopped for a drink at the saloon in the first little town he crossed on the way back home. The barkeep there was less than cordial with him, calling him all sorts of unsavory names and telling Arthur that he needed to leave and that they "didn't want to serve the likes of him". This, of course, lead to a bar fight when two men tried to escort him out. "Tried" being the important word. (Arthur can certainly handle himself in a fight, especially when he's already irritable.) After he left the saloon, he made his way back to camp, running into Herr Strauss upon his return. The little weasily man immediately sent Arthur back out before he could even catch a rest. This time it was to collect from some man who over-extended himself to start up a mining business. Of course there was no gold where this fool was panning, so the venture was a bust. Upon hearing that the equipment was being sold off, Strauss sent Arthur to collect the debt before the man tried to bolt and run before paying up. Sure enough, once the man caught sight of the burly outlaw approaching the shack of an office and heading his way, he dropped whatever was in his hands and tried to take off. This, of course, annoyed Arthur to no end, as he was already having a shitty day and was in no mood for a chase. Arthur caught up to him pretty quick, though, but in a feeble and desperate attempt to get away, the man threw a fairly large rock at Arthur. His aim was none too accurate and the rock veered drastically to the left and hit Arthur's horse, Buck, in shoulder instead, causing the poor animal to spook and rear up. Now, Arthur will put up with a lot. But do NOT mess with his horse. Ever. Fully pushed to his limits and beyond now, Arthur stalked angrily towards the man, who cowered in fear, realizing the grave mistake he had made. "You could've made this so easy. But no, you had to go and really make me mad!", Arthur shouted, his fists clenched at his sides. A quick and massive fist to the face put the man flat on his ass, knocked-out cold. Huffing in annoyance as he made sure that the man wasn't going to be a problem anymore, Arthur quickly searched his pockets and bags to collect whatever money he could find and called it a day, leaving the poor fellow sprawled out unconscious in the dirt.

And thus, the reason for the mood that Arthur Morgan is currently in.

Once he gets back to camp, Arthur tosses the canvas bag with the money at Strauss without a word and quickly sets off to get a bottle of whiskey and something to eat, firmly planting himself down at the table where you happen to be reading. He mumbles to himself about "idiots" and "wasted time", rolling his eyes at no one every time he lifts the bottle to his lips. You sit quietly at the table and observe Arthur carry on for awhile about everything and nothing. Every little thing is annoying to him at this point. He even complains about the sun being "too bright" today, causing you to chuckle silently to yourself. You really shouldn't laugh, but it is kind of amusing at this point. Nothing is going to put him in a better mood when he gets like this. So you decide to push your luck and create a little fun of your own and mess with him.

As he sits there ranting, you casually start to collect the leaves and little pieces of twigs from the overhead trees that have fallen onto the tabletop where the two of you are sitting. You roll the fragments around in your fingertips, making a small pile in front of you and then proceed to flick them across the table at him with your fingers. The little shrapnel pieces sail through the air and begin to pelt him in the arm and occasionally in the chest. Your face twists slightly as you concentrate and focus all of your attention to line up your ammunition with its target. Arthur doesn't seem to notice at first, as he's so wound-up in his own misery. Until a small piece of a twig hits him square in the nose. Your eyes go wide as you freeze, biting your bottom lip to stifle a smile, waiting for his reaction.

Arthur instantly stops his own antics, speechless for a split second as he looks over at you. "What the hell are you doing?!" Arthur snaps, his face one of confusion and exasperation. "Cut it out!" he barks at you sharply.

"No", you say simply and calmly, an ever-so-slight mischievous grin on your lips. He stares you down for a moment, his face hard as nails, eyebrows drawn together. Ah, the challenge is on now! As you are not going to let him brood like this for the rest of the day if you have any say in the matter.

Next, you look him straight in the eye and stick your tongue out at him. Arthur says nothing at first, turning his head slightly and giving you the side-eye glance, not sure what in the hell you are doing before he utters a "What the-?” When your first face registers with him, and you now have his attention, you start with making a succession of silly faces at him, rapidly changing your expressions to a series of exaggerated angry and mean faces. You jut your lower jaw out like a bulldog, and curl your nostrils up like a pig. You cross your eyes and let your tongue slack out to the side of your mouth. This causes him to stop-dead, looking at you like you're crazy.

"Knock it off, (Y/N)! I ain't in the mood," he warns sternly. His eyes are heated, burning a most intense hue of blue-green. And this isn't even Arthur's angriest state, yet he is still most intimidating. Of course he realizes, deep down, that he can literally just get up and walk away from you at any time if he wanted, yet he still sits there. And this is where you have the advantage:  you know that he will never, ever hurt you, despite how angry he may get.

"No", you reply with another impish grin.

Arthur abruptly takes his hat off his head and pulls his other hand over his face in frustration. When he does this, you take advantage of his distraction, reach over and quickly snatch his hat out of his hand, and place it on top of your own head, smiling back at him triumphantly. Arthur halts in his movements, a clear and menacing vibe bouncing off of his tense body now.

"Give me my hat," he growls out slowly, eyes locked on you intensely.

"No."

"(Y/N), I ain't gonna warn you again. Give me my hat." His blue eyes are dark and flashing.

You abruptly stand up and start to walk away from the table, leaving him sitting there. "No", you tease over your shoulder, with half of your face covered by his hat which is too big for you.

"God damn it!" he yells and springs up from the table to chase after you. "C'mere!" he yells at you. He quickly stalks after you, reaching out to grab your arm, but you quickly evade his grasp.  

"No!" you holler back. And you spring away from him again, changing directions to place yourself out of his arm's length once more as he keeps grappling at you.  "Son of a-" he huffs out angrily. And he rushes at you yet again, but you are too small and too quick for him, leading his large hands to grab nothing but air. Like a puppy running around crazily, you keep darting around just out of his path and dodging behind chairs and crates. Now, of course, it hasn't occurred to you until this moment what you will do if, and when, Arthur does catch you, as you know it is inevitable. You admittedly didn't think this through too well. And, he is pretty riled up now. Crap. Now what? Maybe you'll kiss him? That'll distract him for sure. He can't very well beat your ass for kissing him, now can he?

You bolt out into the clearing, looking over your shoulder to make sure Arthur is still beyond arms's reach. If you can make it to Hosea, he'll surely help shield you from Arthur. But what you don't see, is that you are about to run right into the wall that is Bill Williamson.

“Bill! Don’t let her get past you!” Arthur shouts out suddenly, pointing at Bill. Confused, you turn around, but not before Bill's arm shoots out from his side, snatching you up by the waist and pulling you to his chest. His barrel arms fold you up and effortlessly pin you to him for safe keeping. "NO!" you shout, struggling and pushing back against the man behind you. "Bill, you let go of me right now!"

Catching his breath for a second, now that you're contained, Arthur smugly saunters over to you and Bill. "You lose something, Arthur?" asks Bill, lifting his chin in acknowledgment with a grin.

"Well now, ain't so smart now, are you, Miss (Y/L/N)?" Arthur teases as he stands in front of you, feeling all superior, with his thumbs tucked into his gun belt. You just stand still, mouth closed and glaring at him defiantly as he tilts his head to the side just slightly as he looks you over, debating about what he's going to do with you now. And quicker than you realize it can happen, the world turns upside down - literally, as Arthur grabs your arm from Bill's grasp and tosses you over his broad shoulder like you're little more than a sack of grain, causing a surprised shriek to escape your lungs.

“Arthur! Put me down this instant!” you shout at him, your legs kicking as you try to maintain your balance as you perch precariously upon his shoulder.

“No”, he replies smartly, giving you a taste of your own medicine.

"I mean it! You put me down! Now!" you shout again, still trying to wiggle yourself free.

"No", his voice calm and a sly grin creeps across his handsome face as he clearly has the upper-hand now.

Seeing the opportunity to step in and add to your torture, John walks over, grinning ear to ear, from where he and Abigail were watching the scene, eager to play along. "Um, hey Arthur?", he asks with exaggerated innocence. Arthur spins around excessively to face him, swirling you in the air. "Why, yes, John?" "Did you happen to see where I left my canteen?" asks John. Arthur spins again, this time 180 degrees to face the horses, forcing a yelp to escape your lips with the motion. "I think its over there, John." "Are you sure?" asks John, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger, as if in deep thought. Arthur spins yet again, this time towards the tents. "Well, hold on now, maybe its in the tent?", he offers. Each time Arthur moves, you spin wildly with him, making your stomach lurch and the blood rush to your head. Your hair keeps falling into your face, quickly becoming a disheveled mess and obscuring your vision.

"Arthur, come on, now. You really should let her go," giggles Abigail, covering her mouth with her hand, making an attempt to convince the man to show you some mercy. "Hell, no!" affirms Arthur. "This is a result of her own doin'."

"Arthur!" You continue to shout as you try to hold yourself up by pushing your hands against his back. "I’m gonna get sick all over you!”

"Go ahead. You’re the one who does the washing,” he says flatly, completely unaffected by your threats.

The entire camp is enjoying the show, as playfulness like this is seldom seen. Even Dutch walks over to participate as well. He pauses to take in the compromising situation that you find yourself in. He crosses his arms over his chest and bends at the waist, turning his neck so that he can look into your face with a big smile on his own. “You see, Miss (Y/L/N), this is a lesson that we all must learn: Arthur is not one to be trifled with,” says Dutch with a falsely chastising tone. This causes you to just huff back a growl in frustration as you continue to squirm to try to free yourself of Arthur's iron grasp, as it appears that no one is going to help you.

And suddenly, like thunder piercing a quiet night sky, you hear Ms. Grimshaw's voice cut through the noise that is starting to muffle from the blood rushing into your ears. The matron has had enough at this point and has decided to put an end to this nonsense.

"What in God's name is going on here?!" You hear her before you can see her and you try to turn your head to see which direction she is coming from. She is marching over to you and Arthur at an alarming pace, her arms swinging sternly at her sides in hard determination. While you are relieved at the the prospect of being released from Arthur's grip, you still cringe a bit at the idea of her wrath being unleashed upon you both. (The only person that you can say who is as intimidating as Arthur Morgan is Susan Grimshaw.) “What in the hell are you doing, Arthur?! Put her down!” she yells at him, getting up in his face and back-handing his chest in annoyance. But he only stares her down, not moving, but not saying anything back, either.

"Put. Her. Down." Ms. Grimshaw threatens Arthur in a low voice. "NOW!"

Arthur huffs as he quickly plunks you down on the ground, causing you to stumble a bit backwards ungracefully on your feet. But once you sweep your hair out of your eyes and regain your footing again, you immediately rush back at him, punching him in the arm in retaliation with a deep scowl set upon your face. "Ass!"

"Knock it off or next time I’ll drop you in the rain-barrel!" he glares at you, stepping closer and towering over your much-smaller frame as if he's going to grab you up once again.

“That’s enough! You people got time for this foolishness when there's work to do?!” Ms. Grimshaw gets between the two of you.

"She started it!" Arthur yells, pointing a finger at you in defense of himself to Grimshaw. "Oh, get over yourself, Arthur!" you shout back at him.

“I don’t care!", Ms. Grimshaw snaps back, putting both of her hands up to silence you both, her face now flushed and red in irritation. "And you," she says spinning her head and pointing at you now. "Quit getting people all riled up. You're just as bad as he is!" she points out as she waves her hand dismissively at you. "In fact, get over there and make yourself useful and help Mr. Pearson out!” she nudges her head towards the cook's area.

“Fine!” you snap back childishly and turn on your heels with a flourish of your hair as you march over to the food wagon.

“Children! I deal with children all damned day around here!" Ms. Grimshaw shouts at no one in particular as she plants her hands on her hips in annoyance. "Jack has more sense than you people!”

--------------------------------

Later, after everyone has calmed down and gone about the rest of their day, the gang gathers around the tables for dinner. And something in the air smells absolutely delicious, too. Ms. Grimshaw has made sure to keep you and Arthur separated since your squabble earlier. While you were directed to Mr. Pearson's company, Arthur was sent over to take his frustrations out on the fire wood, which yielded enough cut timber to last the camp for four days. He eventually makes his way over to the tables to join everyone, trying to inconspicuously watch for you out of the corner of his eye. He cautiously sits down next to Charles and John, who are also warily watching, as they do not want to get in the cross-fire of any retaliation between Arthur and you. They know you by now, and know that you are not going to fold so easily after this afternoon. And it doesn't help that you have been mysteriously absent for a few hours. Abigail and Jack take a seat across the table from John, Arthur and Charles, and Abigail shakes her head at the whole lot of them, observing their nervous twitching and shifty eyes. "Shame on you, all, being afraid of a little woman," she chuckles. "Oh sure, a little woman wrapped up in a wolverine's pelt", mumbles Charles in defense.

As everyone gets settled, you eventually make your appearance, coming around the corner from behind the food wagon with a single plate in your hand. Everyone in camp takes notice and keeps an eye on you as you walk, wondering what you're up to now. You smile innocently as you walk straight over to where Arthur is sitting, eyes locked on him like a rope pulling you over. Your calm presence is more than a little unsettling, considering how you both left each other last time. As you reach the table, you pause, looking down at Arthur.

"Y/N", he greets you cautiously with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Arthur", you respond calmly. "I made something...special...just for you for dinner tonight. You know, after earlier and all." Your voice is calm and even, and you smile at him with a wickedly sweet grin. You carefully set the plate in your hand down right in front of him. Everyone else is having the usual stew for dinner. But for Arthur, you have prepared roasted pheasant, with potatoes and gravy. The aroma is heavenly, with the hint of various herbs drifting through the air. Arthur's eye go wide in surprise of such a treat, his mouth already watering at the sight and smell of the custom-prepared dish.

You stand with your hands folded over your stomach, watching him with earnest. "Wow...uh...thank you, (Y/N), Arthur says slowly, not really sure how to respond to such a gift.

"Uh, Arthur?" warns Charles. "I don't know if I'd eat that if I were you," as he motions to the plate.

"Why not?" he asks, looking at Charles with confusion.

John also looks from the plate, to you, and back to Arthur, and even he is smart enough to question it. Why would you make him such a lovely meal after the fight you had earlier? Either you are trying to apologize and make up for it, or... "Yeah, I agree with Charles there, Arthur," says John skeptically. "You may want to skip dinner tonight."  

Arthur looks at the plate of delectable food, contemplating his choices. You wouldn't...would you? He eventually looks up at you, as you continue to stand there, staring silently and smiling oh-so innocently, watching his internal struggle. And his torture is just so satisfying to you.

“Go ahead…eat it," you encourage sweetly. And then you lean over to get closer to his face. "I dare you…"

[whiteshipnightjar]

The Air Again

by Joanna Newsom

June of ‘78 who are you, so arrayed on the banks of Lake Adair. Pale lacuna agape and like the moon in the lake you are not there, my poor canary.

At uncertain behest Maggie blown to the west in a shimmering dust of gold with her pale yellow hair they would call her ‘canary’. And I loved my Maggie so, and that is all you need to know.

But women here ain’t ever glad, not even Emma Nevada, coming back to share her wedding cake. Women here ain’t ever free (and Emma never left) we never leave, we never last we never ask we never stake a claim or complain or take.

Not till I made a play for a parcel that lay on the Amador county line. Had a notion that I’d find employ by-and-by at the Lonesome Willow Mine but they don’t enlist my kind. In the meantime, set to prospecting where I was able and laying my Maggie a table. And when it was warm we would pan, when it stormed play Fan-Tan, and when it was cold they’d come sniffin’ with gold in their hands. 

On and on and again on and on and again, you do what you can.

Take an eighth of an ounce in allowance for the dance, only a dance, if you’re alone and abandoned and cast aside. You know, the pastor tried in vain to ask her hand, even him, everybody did.

And I had a plan but I had to sign away my mine and the deed left us free to scrape and bleed and go to seed and never marry not canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary.

In the spring of that year when the tinker was here, gals would hire him to mend their tin. I heard ‘em swarm from afar like a storm in a jar, like a choir of cherubim, singing *him, hymn, hymns.

Whispering, ‘Maggie had gone must’ve skipped with someone’, sounded wrong though it did seem fair.

April turned into May and I looked every day for you, Maggie, ‘til I heard they found a whore with the golden hair on the shores of Lake Adair. On the sluice she was spread loose and languid and dead from the kindness that she had shown. Still she told me her tale lifting veil after veil to expose a grin a-honed, my yellow rose in the lode a-blown.

And though I long to believe as I muddied my sleeve, and I studied the wiccan hap, and I want to revive, she was never alive. But by the grace and the whim, and the wheel, and again, and the wickedness of men.

But what to do then? I hauled myself up from the shore and I called at the door of the foreman. I told him and he laughed.

So, alas, there was savagery there. Left a hole in his heart you could roll a cabbage in ‘A cabbage?!‘ “Oh, no no, just a little one, Maggie, just a little one.”

On and on and again ‘til they saw what I am and I am never done, I am never done.

Went inside for the light, got a paper and a pen, where to begin? Do you sue for the rights? Root* for the strike? Through the alluvium to where it heeds *for I’m putting my own ruin ‘til the end to lure o’er the deed. A noose on a live oak tree bent toward the saloon tent and meant for me and Maggie.

And though it wasn’t him, it could’ve been him, or anyone who had done what I know so many men intended when they came to win. 

So arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant. 

Held a cloth to my hands taking stock of my plans, well, there was something I had to make right. I took his old buggy whip and I lowered a skip in the glow of the sodium lights with a load of dynamite.

Maggie said, “I am here.” And with a touch on the ear, “After thirty years down in the mine, help me lead out the mules help me free the poor fools, let them see for the very first time they were blind, blind, blind.”

Then we rode through the rift and we beckoned to moon reflectin’ and she opened her neck like a stream. I saw the Father appear, heard her sob in my ear like a mob of cherubim, howling “him, him. It was him. It was him.”

So I threw a charge down the shaft in the cart with the pastor who spat and evangelized. He was the last and the worst — canary always goes first — to sing where the waters rise, hear her sing – go on now, Maggie –

On and on, on and on, on and on, and again and on and on on and on and again on and on and again.

Then a knock on the wall and a knock and we all fall in and down and in, and down and in and we pass away. But we pass only the baton man to man, and so they return. Pull the pumps, fill the sumps, for they’re takin’ something; they will never learn, they will never learn. And even if the churn drill and the stamp mill and the Pelton wheel, and the smoking furnace all a-burning, overturning, learning she will never breathe the air again air again air again air again air again air again air again air again air.

Like a screech of a flare, or like they’re reaching for air beneath the smothering eiderdown. Veins of gold, still outstretched in a silent arrest for miles and miles abound.

And if I’m underground let me join in that line, let me toil in that mine, let me find what is hiding there, let me dig where I durst, let me drink when I thirst and let me breathe the peril air.

And breathe for my canary, and breathe. Let me breathe. Let me breathe for my canary, breathe for my canary canary canary, breathe for my — canary always goes first — breathe for my canary canary canary canary, breathe for my — canary always goes first — breathe for my canary canary canary canary canary canary, breathe for my — canary always goes first — breathe for my canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary.

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 67: Winter Star

THURSDAY - WINTER 25

“Rise and shine, Alexander, it’s Winter Star!” 

Achilles could’ve been banging pots and pans, and the aforementioned Alexander still likely would’ve only rolled over with a snore if the former hadn’t also jabbed him hard in forehead. In between a sputter and a yawn, Alex managed to murmur, “Is it Winter Star already?”

“Mmhm.” Achilles took advantage of Alex’s wide-reaching stretch to duck under his arms and lay himself underneath. “And look, it’s snowing, baby—well, I guess you can’t look, the curtains are closed…”

 Alex yawned again. “Never expected you to get excited over snow…” He gently swatted Voltaire, who had also joined the party, aside and pulled up the bed covers. 

“Oh, I still hate it, but it’s not too bad, and I’ve always wanted a White Winter Star. In Monstera, our Winter Stars are usually dry and… vaguely tannish.” 

“Yup, yup, makes sense…” Another yawn. “Geez, you’re already dressed?” Still bleary-eyed, Alex had pawed at Achilles’ chest only to encounter the soft knit of a wool sweater.

“It’s 9am.”

“Oh heck, seriously? Why didn’t you wake me up?” 

“Because it’s Winter Star! It’s your day off, you deserve to sleep in! Don’t worry, I made breakfast!” 

“I’ve never seen you so excited for a festival…” Yet another yawn. Clearly Alex hadn’t slept well—dark dreams, perhaps?—but his assessment was nevertheless fair. Winter Star had always been Achilles’ favorite holiday 

Back in Monstera, his parents had thrown a lavish, annual Winter Star party. It’d always been the talk of the town; there was live music and festive costumes and the most delicious food—roast beef and sweet potatoes and deviled eggs and lamb; the list went on and on. 

And Perry and Apolline had always made sure to order Achilles’ favorite—a chocolate cranberry pavlova. Oh, just thinking about it now made his mouth water… as Alex knew, he wasn’t usually a chocolate person, but the pastry chef for the Robinsons’ go-to caterer could not be beat. The pavlovas from the bakeries in Hyacinthia had never been the same, but Gus had promised him he’d do his best… 

Alex, however, clearly did not seem to share his enthusiasm for the holiday.

The two had been grabbing a drink with Emily and Haley the night before, and when they had left the saloon, Pelican Town was in the midst of its transformation for the festival. Multiple red carpets had been rolled out in the square encircling the massive Tree of the Winter Star. 

It had to have been nearly 50 feet tall, a real hefty pine tree Lewis had made sure to inform them had been sourced “right from our neighboring community in Sunspray!” And they had left the Stardrop just in time to see Willy flick on the lights, tiny silver bulbs illuminating baubles of gold and blue and red. And at the very top—a star that shimmered like a jewel under the moonlight. 

Privately, Achilles thought his parents’ tree was prettier, but even so, he had marveled at the towering sight. To his surprise, however, Alex had only made an uncharacteristic little “Hmph,” and hadn’t stopped to give it more than a second’s glance as they made their way back to Strawberry Farms. 

He could have chalked it up to familiarity—after all, Alex had lived in Stardew for nearly 13 years now, the tree wasn’t anything new to him—but in the carols Willy had begun to bellow, Achilles was reminded of Spirit’s Eve, and the memory to which he had borne witness.  

I think this was the first time I realized my dad wasn’t a good man. 

Even now, there was a heaviness to the way Alex was holding the glass of water Achilles had brought him. But perhaps he could help Alex create some new memories for the holiday.

God, you’re giving yourself too much credit, you narcissist… 

But Winter Star had always been only the most joyous of affairs in the Desrosiers-Robinson household. The parties were fun, but what Achilles had always loved most about Winter Star was the time with loved ones. Cheesy, but true. He had numerous fond memories celebrating with his family— holiday sweaters, the traditional breakfast of gingerbread muffins and peppermint hot chocolate, and then the presents! It was always a full day, packed to the brim with activities, and though there was no party here (perhaps he’d throw one of his own next year), he wasn’t planning on slowing down just because he was in Stardew. 

Achilles scurried up from the bed to draw back the curtains and welcome in the white shaft of sunlight that broke immediately through the blinds. It cut through the room like a knife, illuminating one half of Alex’s face and setting the bit of gold in his emerald eyes aglow. And even with Alex frowning and squinting hard into the glare of the glass in his hand, Achilles couldn’t help but stare. 

With his nose scrunched, Alex tossed Achilles a perturbed look as he scooted himself up against the headboard. “What are you looking at me like that for?” 

“Come on, you should know that anytime I’m looking at you, I’m admiring that overwhelmingly beautiful face of yours, my beautiful, beautiful boy.” 

Alex cleared the phlegm from his throat and rubbed the sand from his eyes. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. I mean just look at that nose. Your favorite part of your face!” 

“That is true, it is my favorite—oh, okay—you’re in a—extra good mood—”

Achilles had hopped gently back onto the bed—he was straddling him now, holding his face in both his hands before leaning forward to kiss the aforementioned nose. He had taken their conversation two nights previously to heart. It had hurt to learn Alex had been anxious, but Achilles was determined to make it up to him now. Alex had been right—Achilles wasn’t naturally a touchy person, but he’d promised himself he’d be more considerate now for Alex’s sake. 

“Do you want to know what my favorite part of your face is?”

Alex drummed his fingers along Achilles’ thighs and fought back another yawn. “Just dying to know.” 

“All of it.” 

“Ha ha, Ash.” Alex rolled his eyes, but the morning’s melancholy seemed to be melting slowly away under Achilles’ touch, for he was now smiling as he slid a hand under the back of Achilles’ sweater. “Real, uh, diplomatic an answer.” 

“See, I’m sure everybody else says your eyes, but since I’m just so incredibly unique and quirky, I decided I’d—” But he cut his rambling joke short after witnessing the wince that had flashed across Alex’s face for just a fraction of a second. “What, you don’t like your eyes?” 

“No, no…” Alex gave his head a little shake, ran a hand though his bed head.“I dunno. I just wish they weren’t my dad’s.” 

Oh. 

“Hmm. Let me get a better look.” Achilles had, of course, committed the whole spectrum of those iris’ shades to memory quite a long while ago, but he took his time as he cupped Alex’s chin and studied him closely with a sideways tilt of his head before concluding his examination with a smart pat on the shoulder. “Hmm. I say, Master Mullner, I’m no artist, but yours are quite different a shade. Much warmer—an earthier tint, if you will. Sure, they’re both green, but you wouldn’t call an avocado peel the same color as a lima bean, now would you? Leah would be outraged.” 

Then, he kissed him once atop each eyelid as Alex laughed. Achilles was being silly, that was obvious enough, but even so… 

“Thank you,” Alex murmured, burrowing his head under Achilles’ chin and hugging him close.

They sat like this for a minute or two. Under the sunlight, in the silence. Achilles could feel his breath, warm against his chest, slow and soft—in fact, he wondered whether Alex had fallen back asleep, until his voice rang out, small and slightly muffled against his sweater, 

“What are we, Ash?” 

Oh no. 

“Hmm?” 

Achilles had, of course, heard him the first time, but he was choosing to buy himself a minute or two to formulate his response. 

“I just… I mean, I guess I understand if you feel it’s too early to have this conversation, it’s just that after Tuesday, I guess, I was just wondering… I don’t know. It’s been a few weeks, now. What are we?” 

This is so unfair. 

Achilles leaned back to better facilitate eye contact and almost immediately regretted it; those puppy-dog eyes—it was too much. “Well, what do you want us to be?” 

“I asked you the question first.” 

“You actually asked a different question, technically—”

“Achilles…” 

Your nose is twitching. Your nose is twitching! Drag it out, at least until you can get to the kitchen—

“We’re dating. Do you want more?” 

Alex bit his lip. “Do you want more?” 

“I asked you the question first.” 

“Okay, okay, okay—”

Just kidding, don’t drag it out, can’t you see how stressed he is! Ugh, forget about it. Just do it. 

Achilles sat backwards onto the heels of his feet and pinched his nose. “I had a whole thing planned out, you know. For Saturday. A beautiful bouquet of flowers, a nice speech, a wonderfully romantic walk along the boardwalk. It was going to be a whole thing, but I guess you’ll never see it now.” He sighed and tapped Alex’s forehead. “I want you to be my boyfriend, Alexander Joshua Mullner. How about that? Would you like to be my boyfriend, hmm?”

It was clearly not the response Alex had expected from the rate Achilles’ nose had been twitching—his lips parted in an ‘o,’ and it was several seconds before he managed to say, “Um. Oh. Yeah. I mean, sure. Yeah!” 

“Great.” 

A pause. Then both of them began to speak.

“I’m sorry, this would’ve been significantly less awkward on Saturday—”

“I’m sorry, I really futzed up your plan didn’t I—”

Achilles shrugged, smiling, though Voltaire seemed to give an emphatic “Mew.” 

“Nah, it’s okay, it wasn’t anything particularly fancy. The weather forecast says it’s supposed to be pretty warm, I thought perhaps we could have a picnic on the beach, we spent a lot of time there together this past year… Sit on the boardwalk where I, one could say, once regurgitated the contents of my alcohol-filled stomach with great gusto. You know. Very romantic.” 

“Oh, yeah, real romantic…” Alex chuckled and then looked back up at Achilles. “Well we can still have the picnic, can’t we? Like, do I at least still get the flowers?” 

“Absolutely not, you get nothing.”

“I get you.” 

The quip came quick, and Achilles couldn’t help but blush as Alex crawled forward to wrap his arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, whispering, “Happy Winter Star to me.” 

Oh hell, in the span of three minutes, he’d nearly forgotten it was Winter Star—there was a schedule to keep! Achilles jumped off the bed and hurled Alex a dark green sweater he’d purchased for him the week before. 

“Get dressed and brush your teeth. I baked some muffins and they taste best fresh.” He had scurried halfway to the kitchen when he remembered his promise and dashed back to give Alex a kiss of his own, only to be accosted with, 

“You baked muffins—?” 

*****

The muffins were good, the peppermint hot chocolate marginally less so (too much peppermint), but they took their vittles to the living room to lounge by the fireplace among the poinsettias and other decorations Achilles had put up in the two hours before Alex had woken. 

He’d someone, somehow, forgotten to purchase a tree—absolutely ridiculous, who even was he? Truly, never mind all the half-eaten takeout, that was the real indication of his mental state earlier this season…—and worse, had only realized it after purchasing a (wildly expensive) set of silver and gold glass ornaments. With no choice but to improvise, he’d hung them from the mantel like stockings and strung the white string lights and ribbon across the beams of the ceiling.

As for the crystal star topper he’d spent two days scouring the web for—he had tied it to the top of the potted plant Elliott had gifted him so many seasons ago and placed it in the center of the coffee table alongside an admirable stack of gift bags and presents, each neatly labeled with the name of their recipient—Elliott, Leah, Emily, Shane, among others. 

One gift bag was already empty, its contents and swathes of wrapping paper strewn across its giftee’s lap—a smart watch (the latest waterproof model, as Achilles had previously promised); a plush, embroidered towel; a pair of sneakers he knew Alex had been eyeing; and a bright blue bandana, a bag of treats, and a thin leather collar. 

“But that’s all for Dusty, not you, just to be clear,” Achilles said, taking a peek into the gift bag Alex had handed him just as Alex experimentally unclasped the collar. “I mean. Unless you want to wear it, I won’t say no, exactly…” 

Like a kid—the true Winter Star spirit—Alex dissolved into a fit of giggles so “disgustingly, overwhelmingly adorable” (as Achilles would say later that evening in a marginally more inebriated state) that Achilles’ cheeks couldn’t help but hurt from smiling so hard. To cap it off, Alex crawled across the couch to tackle him in a tight squeeze of a hug. “Thank you, Ash.” 

For Achilles, Alex had gathered a selection of small goods, each accompanied by a handwritten little note: a mini umbrella (“Because you still haven’t baught one, you punk. Remember that time you left Penny and I in the rain?”); a cat shaped mug, complete with a lid with ears (“Because you always spill tea on yourself”); a nice set of waterproof notebooks (“Because I accidentally totally ruined that one notebook of yours that time we went out on the boat, and especially now that you write around water a bunch”); a sheet of colorful temporary tattoos (‘Because your always doing a good job every day!’), and finally, a framed photograph that Achilles didn’t quite recognize.  

“It’s from my birthday party, when Haley was taking photos—she showed me this one a few weeks ago, and I just thought it was… nice.” Alex shrugged from over Achilles’ shoulder.

Now that he was taking a closer look, he recognized the game of beach volleyball going on in the background. It was a candid shot, for sure—Achilles half sprawled in the sand, laughing, after spiking the ball across the net. Alex grinning, kneeling down to help pull him up under the glow of the sunset. 

Achilles held the frame between his hands and stared resolutely down at the photo, his eyes beginning to burn just the tiniest bit. “Thanks, Al.” 

“Oh, but Voltaire, I’m so sorry, I’m the worst, I didn’t get you anything—”

With a small start, he looked up to witness Alex scooped up the maine coon in one fluid motion and bury his face in his fur. 

*****

“So, which one of those is for the gift exchange?” 

Post-violent cuddling, Voltaire had wriggled himself from Alex’s grasp and found a comfortable spot in Achilles’ lap, while Achilles himself had chosen to stretch across the sofa, his head in Alex’s lap. Alex subsequently had no lap to lie on, but he was now donning a giant green bow that Achilles had managed to violently stick to the top of his head after a couch-side tussle. Stuffed on muffins and hot chocolate, they had only a few minutes to go before they were to head over to Pelican Town for the community celebration. 

“Hmm?” Achilles glanced back over at the presents surrounding the Potted Shrub of the Winter Star. “What gift exchange?”

“The one for the festival?”

“Fuck. What one for the festival?”

“The one—well it’s why the town shows up an hour early—Lewis didn’t tell you? I told him you never check your—”

“Fucking hell—”

“Oh, Achilles, when will you learn—”

Achilles bolted from the couch, sending Voltaire sprawling with an indigent “Meow!” to the ground, and sprinted out the door to the mailbox. With a huff, he wrenched the little flap open and scooped the entire contents to the snowy ground. 

“Put a jacket on, put a jacket on—sheesh, man, you’re gonna get pneumonia again—” Alex, hopping bowlegged among the snow drifts, caught up a moment later, throwing a coat over Achilles’ huddled figure. 

Advertisements, bills (that he paid online), and letters, so many letters—seriously, who was sending him mail these days? He hurriedly dug through the stacks of paper fluttering about on the ground, keeping an eye out for the pale green envelopes he knew Lewis was apt to use. 

“‘Starting tomorrow, a traveling merchant fleet…’ No...” 

Alex was helping now, too, squatting next to him, squinting at a cream sheet of cardstock in his hands. “‘Dear Ah—Ah—’ Geez Louise, is that really how your name is spelled or is my dumb bunny brain just kicking into overdrive? ‘One… week from today…’ Man, this is from last season, Ash—”

“Gift exchange? Like a Secret Santa-esque event? Fuck, I didn’t even opt into this, does Lewis just assume everyone wants to participate?” Achilles flung a belated invitation to Spirit’s Eve into the “discard” pile. 

“Yeah, it’s kinda tradition…” Alex studied another sheet of cardstock carefully before adding it to the growing pile. “But heyyo, maybe you’ll have like Leah or Elliott, someone you already bought something for—”

“Oh, it’s going to be someone like… Demetrius. Or Caroline. Fuck, this is going to be so embarrassing—wait, oh my god.” 

“What?” 

“‘This is embarrassing… “

“It’ll be fine, we’ll figure something out—”

“No, no,I’m reading aloud—listen to this—

‘Achilles, this is embarrassing. I lost my lucky purple shorts. I’m telling you because I think I can trust you. If you find them, bring them back to me DISCREETLY. I’ll pay well. Th-th-thanks. M—Mayor—’” Achilles, whose voice had been remarkably increasing in pitch into teakettle territory as he read the note, began to succumb to his fit of laughter, barely choking out the final words. “‘Mayor Lewis.’ Pay well? Pay well? Does he realize who he’s trying to bribe?” He passed the note to Alex. “I can’t…”  

“Holy moly—”

“I can’t. I wish I had found this earlier—”

“Yoba, why the heck does he think he can trust you, you literally just moved here this year—”

“God, and the thing is, now that I think about it, I have seen a pair of purple shorts—”

“Oh, Ash, we have five minutes before we need to go—”

“—but what did he expect me to do—”

“Ash—”

“—just waltz into her bedroom and grab ‘em from the floor—”

“Achilles—are you listening to me, we have five minutes—”

“All right, all right, all right….” 

They continued to search, until finally, a little “Bingo!” indicated Achilles had found what they’d been looking for. He waved the envelope under Alex’s nose in celebration before unfolding the rest of the note.  

“Read it aloud!”

“Why? You got the same damn lett—okay, okay, fine… 

“’Dear Ashe Achilles…’” 

He glanced up. “How is it that the bastard still can’t spell my name?”

“Maybe if you opened a letter once in a while you could’ve corrected him earlier.” 

“Sassy. Ok—

“‘I would like to give you some information about an upcoming event: the Feast of the Winter Star. It’s a time for the community to come together and think back on all the good fortune we’ve had this year. A favorite tradition is the ‘secret gift exchange,’ where everyone in town is randomly assigned to someone else. On the day of the festival, everyone brings a gift for their secret friend—‘ Secret friend? Who says that? That sounds like something you’d call an affair partner—” 

“Keep reading you punk!”

“’And surprise them with something special! This year, your secret friend is—” Achilles flipped over the letter. “Please don’t be Clint, please don’t be Clint, I haven’t spoken to him in— Oh. A thing like that.” 

“Who is it?” In his anticipation, Alex nearly lost his balance from leaning so far over, but Achilles gave him a light shove. 

“Well you know,” he folded the letter and gave it an aggravatingly pompous little tap as he inserted it back into the envelope. “Lewis says I’m not supposed to tell anyone…”

“I’m trying to help, man—”

“You. My ‘secret friend’ is you. Well.” Achilles stood, both arms full of mail that he fully intended to use as kindling that evening. “That makes it easy. Come on, let’s just put something back in the box, I’ll rewrap it and bring it to Pelican Town. Can’t show up empty-handed, don’t need Lewis telling me I’m a disgrace to the community or something…” 

He padded back to the porch before turning back to Alex. “Damn, I’m sorry, Al. Could’ve surprised you with one more gift had I been a normal person and checked my mail…” 

“It’s okay!” Alex opened the door and gestured for him to go in first. “You’re my surprise gift. Although if I can be honest…”

From behind, Alex embraced Achilles as they reentered the farmhouse, and, lifting him slightly off the ground, gave him a little spin—god, he would never in a million years get used to the feeling of being wrapped in those arms—“I think ya boy may have low key been calling you my boyfriend in my head since like our first date.” 

“Oh yeah? You want to make Winter 13 our anniversary date instead? I’ve always felt sharing with a holiday halves the fun of both the holiday and the anniversary, so while you do get the same amount of fun overall, everything somehow feels… less… hmm. Saturated.” 

“I’ll take your word for it, you of all people would know.” Alex sighed at the pile of mail Achilles had dumped unceremoniously onto the living room floor before unclasping his new watch from his wrist. “Let’s rewrap this one, let me flex my rich boyfriend on all those other Zuzu townies…” 

*****

Crisis averted. Achilles had rewrapped the shoes (he had persuaded Alex that a gift as expensive and pseudo-flashy as the watch wouldn’t be in good taste for a public gift exchange, even though “Everyone knows you’re rich, Ash,” “I don’t even know how everyone knows, it’s not like I go around talking about it, that’s tacky as hell,” “Achilles, both your parents and you have Wikipedia pages and you singlehandedly fixed the town’s mining cart system.”) in a jiffy, and before they knew it, they were bidding farewell to Voltaire and making their way east to Pelican Town. 

“Achilles, this is where we first met!” 

Alex had given Achilles’ arm an eager little tug. He glanced at the approaching bus stop bench that Alex was gleefully pointing out. A year ago, they’d both dove under the stoop to hide from the Spring rain, but today the benches were soaked with melted snow that’d been blown under by this Winter’s temperamental winds. 

“Oh. Sure, I suppose.” He craned his neck for a better look—why was Alex pointing this out?“We walk by this almost every day, Al.” 

“Titanic?” 

“Pardon? Now you’ve really lost me.” 

“I was quoting Titanic. Remember? You quoted Titanic?” 

“No, when did I quote Titanic?”

“Here, at the bus stop! Oh, wait no, my bad, actually, I take that back, you quoted Titanic that night on the boardwalk…” 

“Oh, no wonder I don’t remember—” 

“You called yourself a poor little rich girl.” Alex chuckled at the memory. “I hadn’t watched it at the time, but I rented it with Haley a couple weeks after...”  

They were now parallel with the bus stop, and both stopped, standing side by side, to take a look.

“If it hadn’t rained that night, do you think we’d still be friends?” 

“Oh, for sure, we would’ve met each other sooner or later…” Achilles shrugged. “Small town. Even smaller number of people who could pronounce my name correctly, appreciate mediocre children’s literature, and enjoy House of the Phoenix.” 

“Yeah, that’s true…” Alex gave the bus stop a little tilt of his head before leading them onwards. “But even in a big town I like to think we would’ve found each other.” 

They entered Pelican Town walking in step, and as their shoes hit well-shoveled cobblestone and the sounds of carols filled their ears, Achilles slipped his fingers through Alex’s, prompting a little “Ope!” to escape his lips. 

“I thought you didn’t like holding hands?” 

“Mmm. But you do.”  

*****

Pelican Town was awash in pastel fairy lights twinkling like cotton candy stars across the snow. Massive candy canes, taller than Alex, rose from the ground alongside newly erected pine trees— smaller than the one in the center of the square, but ornamented with the same colorful cheer. 

The fences had been wrapped in garlands of green and red and wreaths hung from ever home. There were no actual carolers, but the music was blasting merrily from speakers hidden deftly within massive, faux gift boxes scattered among the town. 

Between the obvious festive cheer and the man standing next to him, Achilles’ heart couldn’t be set more aglow; he was holding onto Alex with both hands now, pulling him close as they laughed at nothing under the bright Winter sun. Yoba, even the temperature was perfect. Not a hint of wind now, and the snow was quickly fading to flurries… He hadn’t felt so carefree in years.  

“Oh my! Aren’t you cold, dear? It’s freezing!” Evelyn, herself in a bright pink puffer jacket, greeted them with a hug each. “That coat looks much too thin, Achilles… perhaps you can grab one of Alex’s before Lewis arrives…”

The Festival didn’t open to the public until 1pm; the hour before was reserved for the townsfolk to celebrate, and they were all currently waiting for Lewis to kick off the gift exchange. 

Achilles laughed—he was doing a lot of that lately—and waved aside her concerns. “I’m fine, but thank you, Evelyn.” 

 He was happy to see George greet his grandson, though the old man offered him only a stiff nod. Achilles wasn’t surprised; he was quite mindful of those beady eyes watching him grip Alex’s arm. But even so, it was an improvement over the silent treatment they’d both been receiving before. 

But as Evelyn ruffled his hair, he felt something slap his thigh and he looked down to see George force a single, still-steaming snickerdoodle cookie into his hands.

“Oh. Thank you… for this, George, these are my favorite.” 

George grunted. 

Soon, Mayor Lewis arrived, and after gathering the townsfolk in front of the tree in the center of the square, gave a lofty speech espousing the usual values of community and friendship and holiday cheer before finally kicking off the gift exchange. 

Achilles was given a tub of clay from Jas, which he accepted with a significant degree of feigned enthusiasm. Perhaps Leah would appreciate it. Shane’s god-daughter however, also handed him a second box that was revealed to contain a multipack of typewriter ribbon. He strongly suspected Shane must’ve intervened, a theory all but confirmed by the stout man’s intense stare as Achilles thanked the girl for the gifts. 

They could hear the crowds beginning to form—the Feast of the Winter Star was allegedly the third most popular festival for the Valley (behind, of course, Zuzu Time’s #1 Ranked Spirit’s Eve Celebration 10 years in a row and the County Fair), though Achilles wasn’t exactly sure why, given the lack of activities. Truly, outside of Haley’s photo booth, the Feast was, as its name suggested, mostly just a feast. 

It was free to attend, but donations were welcome. Achilles himself had donated five hundred dollars the preceding week, though apparently that hadn’t been enough for Lewis, who had cornered him halfway during the gift exchange, waving a metal tin under his nose and shouting something about “esteemed representatives of the community.” 

But all things come to an end—including Lewis’ nagging, and when 1pm hit, Lewis had no choice but to leave Achilles alone and open the gates for the public. The Feast had officially begun! 

*****

They had managed to snag a table before the majority of the newcomers streamed in, but the moment Gus declared the meals ready, Alex quickly leapt to his feet. “I can get us food—no, don’t get up! I’ll grab it, you stay here, don’t worry.”

He skipped over to wait in the already egregiously long line, leaving Achilles to fend for himself when Haley slipped into the seat next to him. She set her camera between them and folded her arms primly atop the table, giving a curt little nod in Alex’s general direction.

“Look at him,” she sniffed, not waiting for Achilles to follow her gaze. “It’s a strange thing to see, after knowing him all these years… Don’t get me wrong, he’s always been nice to all his girlfriends, you’re not special there. Keeping chivalry alive singlehandedly.” 

Someone—a stranger, likely from Zuzu—approached them to take an open seat, but Haley shot the man the most disparaging look down the bridge of her nose, and he scampered away. She continued as if nothing happened, tracing a line down the tablecloth with a perfectly manicured finger. 

“It was… different then, though. I always thought there was something… not inauthentic, per se, but you could tell the boy’s heart wasn’t really ever into it… Can’t believe I never called it, who even am I. Gay and asexual. Gaysexual? Who’d have thought, really, given the way that man allegedly fucked his way across campus sophomore year, though perhaps the ‘allegedly’ was really carrying all the weight this whole time—”

“Such a lovely way with words, you always have—”

“Anyway, all that to say, he still seems quite different with you. I don’t know how to describe it, exactly. Hmm… With you… Well.” Haley took a sip from her cider and slowly curled her fingers around Achilles’ gloved wrist. “He just worships the ground you walk on, doesn’t he?” 

Achilles watched Alex chat with Stardew’s favorite troublemaking trio in line. He was easy to pick out from the masses; the bomber jacket he’d pretty much stolen from Achilles at this point; the way he stood, perfect posture with his heels slightly off the ground, like a bird ready to take flight; the precise angle at which he tossed his head back when he laughed. 

Achilles smiled and turned back to Haley. “And I the air he breathes.” 

“Quoting something? That sounds like a quote.” 

“Mmm. Elliott’s novel, actually.” 

She tittered. “What were the chances you think, of him actually choosing you?”  

“I choose not to dwell on such inane, trivial matters.” Achilles took in her single raised eyebrow and rolled his eyes. “I don’t think about it. Why, you don’t approve?” 

“Oh, please.” It was Haley’s turn to roll her eyes. “Do not ever ask me again if I don’t approve.” 

And with a sharp flick of his nose, she stood and flounced away. 

*****

Sebastian, Abigail, and Sam joined Achilles and Alex at their table, plates heaping with food rivaling that of even his parents’ party. Roasted carrots popping against slices of honey glazed ham, gravy-laden goose next to crispy green bean casserole, cranberry sauce dripping into steaming corn bread—Alex had made sure to grab him a slice of chocolate cranberry pavlova as well (“You gotta get the desserts right away, otherwise they’re all gone”). 

As to be expected, Elliott and Leah soon followed, along with Penny and Maru. It was turning into quite the little Stardew Valley party over at their table; unfortunately Emily was stuck helping Gus with the catering, and Haley had returned to her photo booth. 

“Oh darn it, I forgot the drinks—I’m going to get some hot chocolate, I think. Do you want one? No, no, you stay here, I’ll grab you one!” Alex bounded from his chair for the drinks station. 

“Hi!” 

A girl seemed to have popped out of thin air—early 20s, if Achilles were to venture a guess, with gold ringlets and rather blinding white teeth. Instinctively, Achilles found himself stifling a groan.

“The guy who just stood up—are you guys friends with him?”

It was Leah who responded, in her usual sardonic tone, hands perched primly under her chin. “Well, seeing as we’re all eating and talking together, I would venture to say… yes.”  

The girl admirably remained unruffled and gave a little nod to another woman at the neighboring table. “My friend over there was just wondering if he was single, she was hoping to give him her number if so.” 

Elliott let out a hearty guffaw, and, with Leah, naturally looked at Achilles. 

This always happens, why does this always happen… He turned to look at the girl. “Ah. He’s my… partner.” 

But she only furrowed her brow. “Partner? Like… business partner…?” 

This time, it was Leah who snorted into her mashed potatoes, though Abigail and Sam’s eyes had both turned as wide as saucers at Achilles’ reveal. 

A reveal it seemed he’d have to further clarify. “No… like, a boyfriend sort of partner. He’s my… boyfriend.” 

It took everything in him to keep a straight face as Abigail and Sam flopped dramatically in their chairs and began beating the dining table with their fists. 

“Oh—oh.” The girl turned red and took a step back. “Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing—of, course, I’m so sorry, I’m an idiot—I’ll tell my friend, but you two—you two make a gorgeous couple— like, gorgeous, so cute—okay, bye! Sorry for disturbing you, have a happy Winter Star!”

“Is this my life for the next… I don’t know, for the rest of my life?” Achilles asked just as Alex returned with two mugs of hot chocolate. 

“Is what your life? Who was that woman you were talking to?” 

“Jealous?” That was Abigail, jabbing her fork towards his general direction for emphasis. 

“What?” Alex’s brows knitted in his confusion. “No—why would I be—”

“What else do women ever want went they approach us?” Achilles patted Alex’s hand as he took a swig from the mug. “You.”

Sam continued the bombardment, adding with a mock groan, “We get it, Alex, you’re hot. God, leave some for the rest of us, will ya—” 

“—now doncha worry, Achilles told her you’re his partner—” 

“Partner?” Alex turned from Abigail back to Achilles, who gave a little shrug. “Like… business partner?” 

Oh, Alex… 

But before he could explain, Maru jumped in. “A rapidly growing number of people around the country are using the word ‘partner’ these days in lieu of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ when referring to their significant other. It’s a much more inclusive term, I’m surprised you haven’t heard it before—” 

Achilles quickly cut in. “I’ve personally just never particularly loved using the word ‘boyfriend.’ But I don’t mind if you do, you can use whatever you’d like.” He placed a hand atop Alex’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze.

“Partner…” Alex seemed to roll the word around in his mouth, savoring the feel of those two syllables. “It sounds very adult. I can see why you like it, seems on brand.” 

*****

After the feast came a performance from the Meteor Elementary children’s choir. Familiar faces, Achilles saw, peeking above red and white turtlenecks. He cheered alongside Penny, standing to applaud as the students took their bows.   

Near the tail end of the Festival, as the sun began to set and the holiday lights began to flicker on, Lewis and his crew began to clean up the food-laden tables to clear some space in the square. The jolly carols that had been playing slowly transitioned to a more crooning series of tunes, as those who remained headed for the dance floor.  

Neither Alex nor Achilles were particularly inclined to join, both rather full on one too many servings of ham; the former was deep in conversation with Megan and none other than Tanya from Orange Grove, while the latter was jotting down a sudden idea into a notebook propped against the edge of the table. But when his favorite Winter Star ballad came on, Achilles stood and offered his hand. 

“Sorry, I don’t know how to do this right,” Alex shyly mumbled as Achilles led him to the floor and slid his free hand around his waist. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to put my hands—never done this with… well, you know…” 

“Your boyfriend?”

“My partner?” 

“In crime or business?” 

Alex laughed and followed his partner’s lead, placing his hand on his back and leaning into his body, his cheek against Achilles’, with a small, satisfied sigh. 

*****

“Well. Now comes the painful hour where I must release you to your forebears…”

Achilles, slightly tipsy now from a handful of unsuspectingly strong hot toddies, gave Alex a low bow before accidentally tripping forward. 

“I’m not drunk,” he insisted, though he allowed Alex to scoop him up and then subsequently buried himself in his sweater, breathing in the lingering scents of garlic mashed potatoes and gingerbread, enveloping himself in his comforting warmth. “I just… lost my balance.” 

“You don’t need to defend yourself. Need me to walk you home?” 

“I don’t need it, but I mean… it is dark… who knows, I could get lost in the woods…” He walked his fingers up Alex’s chest as Alex chuckled softly and ruffled Achilles’ what had been meticulously styled hair. 

“Woods my butt, the only thing between your house and town is the bus stop. But come on. Let’s get you back.” 

The Festival had ended, the crowds had dispersed. The tree would stay up until the end of the season, but the rest of the decor was already being packed away by Lewis, Marnie, and the rest of the usual team. 

Having lain claim to Alex that morning, Achilles now had to bid the man farewell, for Alex was to spend the evening with his grandparents. They walked back to Strawberry Farms, Achilles with his two-handed grip around Alex’s arm (“This is not for stability, because, again, I’m not drunk. I actually just really like you, believe it or not.”), with only the sound of snow crunching underfoot. 

But he broke the silence as they passed the “Strawberry Farms,” sign Leah had carved for him, the paint looking just as fresh as it had when she’d given it to him that Summer, and half-tittered the chorus of a carol before asking, “Did you have a good Winter Star, baby?” 

“The best.” Alex gently pulled himself out of Achilles’ grip to wrap his own arms around his waist as they walked. “This morning was my favorite part, though, I think.” 

God, he was absolutely intoxicating—more so than any drink Achilles had had that night. Every part of him—his touch, his smell, even his voice, like whiskey burning through every one of Achilles’ veins. 

“I love you, Alex,” he murmured. He could see Alex smile under the faint glow of the approaching porch light. Achilles stepped forward, kissed him softly, and whispered again, into his lips, “I love you so much.” 

Alex responded by giving his nose a pinch (“Ow, what are you doing, it’s not even twitching.”). “Hey, you drink lots of water before you go to bed, you hear me?” 

Achilles waved him off. “Yes, mother—I told you, I’m not drunk.”

“Sure, sure.”

“No I’m not, I had maybe two drinks… as if I’d dare over indulge in public like that. And in front of Lewis, no less… but don’t you worry, Voltaire and I are going to make a very strong cup of tea tonight with our new mug.” 

“Good.” Alex kissed his cheek. “I love you.” And then, just before stepping off the bottom step into the dark, he turned and added, “Thank you.” 

[rabbitcruiser]

Talk Like a Grizzled Prospector Day

Talk Like a Grizzled Prospector Day commemorates the start of the  California Gold Rush, which began on January 24, 1848, when James  Marshall discovered gold while building a saw mill for John Sutter, near  what is now Coloma, California. The day has its roots in International Talk Like a Pirate Day, and was inspired by Prospectors Day, which was once held at Knott's Berry Farm each year on January 24. It also was inspired by an episode of the Simpsons with the following exchange:

Bart: That ain't been popular since aught-six, dagnabbit. Homer: Bart, what did I tell you? Bart: No talking like a grizzled 1890's prospector, consarn it.

Common examples of characters talking like grizzled prospectors in popular culture include Dallas McKennon narrating Disneyland's Mine Train Thru Nature's Wonderland and Big Thunder Mountain, Gabby Hayes—both drunk and sober—in many Western films, Gabby Johnson in Blazing Saddles, Will Ferrell as Gus Chiggins on Saturday Night Live, and Walter Huston in The Treasure of Sierra Madre.

Prospectors first came to the Sacramento Valley after Marshall found  flakes of gold in the American River near Sutter's Mill, at the base of  the Sierra Nevada Mountains. At the time there were less than 1,000  non-native inhabitants in California. Newspapers began reporting the  discovery of gold, and by August, 4,000 miners had descended on the  area. The first people that came from outside of the territory came by  boat, and arrived from Oregon, the Sandwich Islands—soon to be called  the Hawaiian Islands, Mexico, Peru, China, and Chili.

In December 1848, President James K. Polk announced a report by  Colonel Richard Mason which spoke of the abundance of gold in  California; this prompted more prospectors to travel to the territory.  Throughout 1849, thousands arrived, either traveling by sea or over  land, and became known as '49ers. Mining towns popped up in the area,  and with them came shops, saloons, and brothels. Many mining towns  became lawless, and San Francisco became an important city in the  territory. By the end of 1849, the non-native population had swelled to  100,000. The Gold Rush helped California gain statehood in 1850, and  gold discovery peaked in the state in 1852. In all, more than 750,000  pounds of gold were extracted during the Gold Rush.

The implication of a grizzled prospector is of one who has stayed so  long searching for gold that their hair has turned gray. Some  prospectors refused to quit the profession and continued to live in the  Western territories. So, when Bart Simpson mentioned a grizzled  prospector from the 1890s, he was referring to a prospector that had  stayed more than forty years after the Gold Rush happened, still trying  to find gold, or other commodities such as silver, oil, radium, and  uranium. Besides a gray beard, the stereotypical grizzled prospector had  faded clothes, missing teeth, a pickaxe, and a mule. They had bouts of  gold fever, and were suspicious of whoever came close to their claim.

How to Observe Talk Like a Grizzled Prospector Day

Celebrate the day talking like a grizzled prospector. Here are a few words prospectors commonly used, that you could use today:

Dadburn: to curse; e.g.: "Dadburned boll weevil done 'et my crop!"

Hornswoggle: to embarrass, disconcert, or confuse; e.g.: "I'll be hornswaggled!"

Consarn: the entirety of something, also a curse word.

Dumbfungled: all used up; e.g.: "This claim is dumbfungled! There's no gold left!"

Bonanza: a mine with lots of gold.

Borrasca: a mine with no gold.

Baby buggy: wheel barrow.

Muck: to dig with a shovel.

Powder monkey: a miner who used dynamite to make holes.

Johnny Newcome: a miner new to camp.

Blackjack and saw bosom: coffee and bacon.

Paydirt: land rich in gold.

Panned out: if they had found gold while sifting through dirt with a mining pan, then things had "panned out."

Flash in the pan: something shiny in pan that turned out to be nothing, or just a small piece of gold.

Stake a claim: claim a piece of land as your own as a place to  search for gold, must stake the land with wooden stakes when you arrive.

The day could also be spent watching films such as The Treasure of Sierra Madre, or old Western films starring Gabby Hayes. A visit to the Sutter's Mill replica and the Gold Discovery and Visitor Center in Marshall Gold Discovery State Park could also be planned. The days' Facebook page could also be explored.

Source

[peppershark]

Your writing for wolfer is phenomenal! You really capture the setting and period! I was wondering how you prepared for writing this story? It feels like a you did a lot of research.

I’m blushing! 🥰

The setting for Wolfer is part of California I used to visit as a kid. It’s a rugged region of the East Sierras that kinda haunts you, if you’ve ever been.

I started my research about the history of this area when I was working on a Gingerrose historical au. There are plenty of public domain primary source accounts of what Eastern California was like in the late 19th century, such as Life Among the Paiutes by Sarah Winnemucca and My First Summer in the Sierra by John Muir (both depict bluntly the history of racism and displacement of Indigenous tribes, one through a firsthand account, the other through interjections of ugly, racist commentary.)

Today I was working on Wolfer, writing about what Draco has been up to, and I found out all about a Mexican American woman named Miss Lola Travis. According to the Eastern California Museum, she had custody of her two young brothers and three children when her husband died, so she moved up to Owen’s Valley and panned for gold until she had enough money to start a saloon. She kept expanding her businesses with dance halls and brothels until she became one of the most powerful people in Owens Valley.

All that to say, if I keep working and hustling, perhaps I’ll finish this fic before long!

Thanks for reading! 🐺

Click here to check out Wolfer, an old west wizarding AU with dark romance Tomione and star-crossed, brokeback Drarry.

[uwusillygirl]

opposite of a modern au. a historical period au. dealer's choice re: which period...just any earlier than the 80s.

omg AMAZING! okay we're going with 1880s, wild west/undeveloped town

chrissy's from a rich family looking to get into gold, which brings her to a gold rush town out west.

2. everything she hates about the space - the fact that it's not yet american land and thus is pretty much lawless, the fact that it's so dirty, that it's essentially an ethical free-for-all - is everything that eddie, former ranch hand who set off to make his fortune, loves about the little town

3. they don't meet the first few months, actually don't even lock eyes. chrissy likes being in her inn suite by sundown, eddie usually pans in the morning, sleeps in the afternoon, and gets drunk and chases loose women all night.

4. they once cross paths in the very early morning as chrissy is going for a head-clearing walk (hard to do in all the shit and mud and mess - there aren't even roads here), and eddie is on his way out of the saloon and toward the river.

5. he stops her from stepping in a particularly deep mud puddle, but does so by just placing a hand directly on her waistline, which, chrissy hasn't been touched like that by a man outside of her family ever. she strangely has a hard time pretending to be offended by it, though. instead, she catches herself watching for him out of her window most days from there on out.

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Thank you sm for the compliment <3 Sweet Child O' Mine is what I think Sodapop felt like with Sandy. Anywho, I would love my room to be next to Loop's. Oh, and Corvie is now my roommate. I hope you don't mind lol. That reminds me of a conversation Corvette and I had a conversation the other day for some odd reason. I genuinely think that Peter Steele would look so spooky in old western clothing, but he would be so nice and have southern charm. (May he Rest in Peace here though.) As for the rodeo - I would love to participate in it even though I don't know one thing about rodeos? I just feel like it would be a fun thing to learn/do. OH MY GOSH Weaving. I love to weave. I feel like we (I) could make little saddle blankets or little clothes that we (you) could sell. With a bunch of patterns or stuff. And for an activity in the Townsquare, I could be teaching the folks how to weave or other little crafts I know. (I am a very crafty person.) if anyone in the gang (Shepard or Curtis) joined in the activity, they'd probably rage quit. How do we feel about prospectors/panning for gold? (They're both Paris cites.)

I love that connection for Soda and Sandy!!

Long as Corvette’s cool, I’m cool with it! And Loop can for sure have the one next to yours!

You’re honestly so real for the Steele thing??

We’d put you on a horse or something! Maybe not the more extreme events, but you could probably do something easy and simple!

Weaving sounds totally cool! I’d be honored to sell your stuff out of the saloon <3

I think we should totally have prospectors. What’s a Wild West town without people panning for gold??

(I’ve been giggling about this all day long)

[leluhn]

Breckenridge in Wintertime

Ahhh, Breckenridge. You’re my favorite. There is SO much to do there in the winter, that isn’t even skiing. Not that the skiing isn’t amazing – it absolutely is. But there’s much more to the town than just the mountain. The apres ski situation is rather amazing. Tons of bars and restaurants, most with pretty decent happy hours, which is nice. Gold Pan Saloon is one of our favorites. They have…

[thewanderlustchronicles34]

Alaskan Adventure - Day 4

On our third cruise day, we arrived in the capital of Alaska, Juneau, where we disembarked and were able to spend time exploring the town before we set off on our excursions! I had booked to canoe to see the Mendenhall Glacier whilst my partner was to explore a gold mine and pan for gold. The town had plenty of totem poles and saloon style bars and eateries where you could relax by the water front. The capital itself is only accessible by boat or plane and feels truly remote and peaceful when you're there.

[thrivingmindsacademy]

Top 3 Attractions of Apache Junction, AZ

Apache Junction, AZ is a small city just outside of Phoenix that's known for being a great place to live. The city has plenty of things to offer residents and visitors alike, including many shops and restaurants. Here are some top attractions in Apache Junction:

The Dolly Steamboat

Nestled in the heart of the Superstition Mountains lies the spectacular Canyon Lake, home of the Dolly Steamboat. Continuing a tradition of cruising since 1925, the Dolly Steamboat now cruises the secluded inner waterways of this beautiful lake.

View the majestic desert bighorn sheep, bald eagles and a host of other wildlife, waterfowl, and birds. Experience the unique ambiance that is created by the sounds of plying through the waters of Canyon Lake. Listen as your captain recounts the legends and lore of the mysterious Superstition Mountains. Expect to be treated with outstanding service and personal attention to your every need. Feel free to ask questions, move about and mingle with the crew. Air conditioned lower and upper cabin during summer months.

The Dolly Steamboat has been operated by the Grimh Family since 1987, with Cindi managing office operations, advertising and marketing, and Jeff as the Dolly’s senior captain and manager of boat operations and training. Of course, our staff and crew members are what make it all possible. We all work very hard to offer a great cruising and dining experience that is second to none!

The Dolly Steamboat derived its namesake from the original owners, Dolly and Paul Kennedy. They started tours in 1983. In October of 1987, Roger and Margie Grimh purchased the Dolly. Jeff and Cindi came onboard shortly thereafter. We enjoy and take pride in providing a venue that allows people of all ages and abilities to experience the breathtaking scenery and wildlife of Canyon Lake.

Superstition Mountain

Superstition Mountain Museum is located in an area full of legend, history and intrigue. You’ll find us in the rugged 160,000 acre Superstition Mountain range in the Tonto National Forest in Central Arizona. Our focus is on providing visitors with an experience of the Old West. We provide an historical context that includes the region's Native American people, the life of early western settlers, local geology and industry as well as the legends promoted through film and media.

The idea for establishing a museum devoted to the history, legend and lore of the Superstition Mountains had been in the back of local resident Tom Kollenborn’s mind for a long time when he, Larry Hedrick, Clay Worst, and Ron Lorenz first began discussing the idea in earnest in 1969.

Goldfield Ghost Town

Reconstructed 1890s town including gold-mine tours, Old West gunfights, a history museum & more. Come and visit Goldfield Ghost Town today! Walk down Main Street, explore the many shops and historic buildings. Tour the historic Mammoth Gold Mine and visit the Goldfield Museum. Pan for gold then take a ride on Arizona’s only narrow gauge train. You’ll also get to witness an old west gun fight performed by the famous Goldfield Gunfighters! Spend a fun filled day, rich in wild west history!

Back in the 1890′s Goldfield boasted 3 saloons, a boarding house, general store, blacksmith shop, brewery, meat market and a school house. Just when it looked like the town would outgrow Mesa, the vein faulted, the grade of ore dropped and the town died a slow painful death.

After several unsuccessful attempts to reopen the mines, the town did come to life again from 1910 on and off until 1926. After more than 115 years, travelers from all over the world still visit this gold mining town located on the historic Apache Trail and enjoy the excitement and grandeur of Arizona’s wild west!

Welcome to Thriving Minds Academy! We are your one-stop shop for all things ABA therapy near me. Whether you need a therapist in your home, or you want to send your child to our facility, we've got you covered. Our therapists have years of experience helping children with autism spectrum disorders reach their full potential.

Thriving Minds Academy 850 S Ironwood Dr Ste #110, Apache Junction, AZ 85120, United States +1 480-806-8000 https://thrivingmindsaz.com/ https://www.google.com/maps?cid=9988130058033023683

[stevelevi]

Loveable scoundrel Wilson Mizner worked as a bartender in a Nome saloon during the Alaska Gold Rush. Before every shift he would put syrup in his hair. In those days, drinks were bought with a pinch of gold. Often during his shift, Mizner would run his fingers through his hair leaving particles of gold on his scalp. At the end of his shift, he would shampoo his hair and pan the gold particles he had been snagging during his hours as a bartender.

For more true tales of the Alaska Gold Rush … THE HUMAN FACE OF THE ALASKA GOLD RUSH

👉 Short Video: https://youtu.be/mocJb-YivXU 👉Get your copy now: https://authormasterminds.com/details/3DwEy

SteveLevibooks #readersandwritersbookclub #authormasterminds #thrillers #Mysteries #crimebooks

[the-fiction-witch]

The Rugged Cowboy

Media: Godless (Netflix 2017)

Character: Whitey Winn (Thomas Brodie Sangster)

Couple: Whitey Winn X Reader

Rating: Adorable

Concept: Inspiration for a Novel

I arrived at the small ex-mining town and tied my horse Lizzy to the post outside the hotel. I noticed immediately how empty the town felt but I suppose this late many people would be tucked in their beds. Still I expect more life then this, the hotel as quiet as a mouse only one light inside, the bar deathly quiet too.

"Curious and curiouser" I muttered more to me, myself and I as I brushed a little dust and dirt from my dress.

I heard a sound that made me look up, it was the wooden saloon doors on the bar creaking open, only the one. And a person emerged there hand still holding open the one side of the wooden doors dirt coated there clearly well worked and callis hands. Boots clopped onto the wooden bar porch with heavy steps causing the wood to creak no spurs or metal works to glint or clink. The feet within them took two firm steps onto the porch and stopped their legs apart, said legs where hugged closely by these pants made of an odd material leaving small textured striped thought-out them but vertical stripes almost giving the illusion of higher height. Which in all fairness did not help the illusion of thinness to his legs and body then again I wasn't so sure it was an illusion. On his hips sat two brown leather gun belts in polar opposite directions meaning he had a gun on each hip 45's or so I thought from here white handled and well cared for, the bullet belts crossed over his pants buttons one buckle at the front the other at the back. Meaning they both faced the way to be quickly drawn. A once white button down about his person hidden mostly below an off green and grey rough shirt with half buttons from the top down stopping at his stomach with no buttons any further, sleeves to his wrists, a deputy badge glinted in the evening light the pin of which stuffed not so straight thought his top pocket. His skin so dirty you could barely see bare skin, hair graced his upper lip even if It was straggly, Ill groomed and patchy where it clearly didn't grow well and yet he refused to accept it and let it grow anyway. A small amount tickled his chin but it was barely noticeable thought the dirt, he had chocolate eyes with small flecks of gold like honey in melted chocolate, long straggly unkept hair that looked as it had been washed in the fair year of 1881, like if you ran your hand thought it one your fingers would be lost In a forest of knots and you'd be left with enough grease on your hand to coat a frying pan. He pulled back his hair and sat on his head a light beige Stetson hat. Once it sat squarely on his head he chewed his inner lip and glanced about the place. 

He saw me and a smile crept to his lips, he staggered over, not drunk or confused more as if attempting to be aloof and have an air of distant confidence about him, or as I used to call it the 'aren't I attractive and mysterious' walk. The moment he got close to me I noticed his scent and I believed my concerns about when he last washed his hair may have been correct. As his body smelt as ripe as a cowboy could be as if on the trail for six months without bath or shower it almost made me want to step away from him.

"Howdy little lady" he smiled to me "ain't seen ya around these parts before?" His twang clear he was from here and likely didn't get much of a elocution lesson in his lifetime 

"Pleasure to meet you" I smiled not wanting to be rude to the boy 

"What's it brings a pretty little thin' like yaself to labelle then?" He asks 

"Just bought myself a little place here, I hoped for the peace and quiet" I answered "could you point me in the direction of the sheriff if you please" 

"He ain't here." He says "gone off… bloody hell knows where." He shrugs "but deputy Whitey Winn at your service little lady" he smiled offering his hand having already noted his hands dirt I almost didn't want to but I didn't want to be rude 

"Y/n y/l/n, charmed" I smiled letting him give my hand a kiss and his smile grew 

"So your y/n y/l/n. Whole towns been a buzz about ya" he laughed"I have to admit I didn't imagine ya bein' quiet so beautiful" 

"Thank you" I blushed a little

"I did give one of ya publishin's a read. Or well I tried to."

"Which one?"

"The garden of roses" he nods

"How'd you find it?"

"Beautiful but difficult"

"How so?"

"Alot of big words. Didn't get thought it in the end"

"Well I'll be happy to explain some of them if you'd like Master Winn"

"Ohh." He smirked "never had a young lady call me that before" he smirked "but I won't stop ya darlin'" he winked "I'll grab Mary Agnes I'm sure she'll know about ya house and all" he says 

"Thank you" I smiled

I expect him to walk off and find this Mary Agnes but

"OI! MAGGIE!" he yelled across town much to my surprise 

"What!" A voice yelled back

"That writer girls here!" 

"Coming!" She yelled back

"She won't be a moment" he says 

Soon enough the woman in question arrived

"Good evening miss y/l/n. Sorry about whitey" she said 

"It's quite alright, he was perfectly pleasant" I laughed 

"Bring your things we'll get you settled" she says 

"Of course" I smiled getting my horse 

"No. No let me little lady" whitey jumped in taking my horses rains 

"You're sure?"

"Course" he nods so I followed Mary Agnes to my little house much as it has been described to me she handed me the key and I got little Lizzy settled in the stable whitey unloading my things into my house for me 

"Thank you very much for your help Master Winn"

"Your welcome little lady. You've had a long enough trip. I'll let ya get settled. Ya need anythin' I'll likely be in the office. Or if ya can't find me, my house is just across the way" he says "ya need anythin' mornin', noon or night it's no trouble" 

"Thank you"

"Maybe if ya feelin' up to it in the mornin' I'd be happy to give ya a tour of town and all"

"That sounds lovely, but we shall see how the day goes"

"Course yeah. Well I'll get out ya hair" he laughed "I'm sure I'll be seein ya around miss y/l/n" he smiled giving my hand another kiss "I'll leave ya to your unpackin'" he says heading down from my porch 

"Master Watts?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for you kind assistance"

"No trouble for such a lovely lady" he smiled tipping his hat to me before he heading off into town 

I laughed a little but headed Inside unpacking all my things and rearranging some of the furniture it already had in it setting my typewriter on the desk next to the window seeing out the window the main track of town, the bar, hotel and even the office the light in and window clear to me seeing whitey sat there clearly attempting again to read one of my books I smiled and made myself a tea sitting down for a while loading paper into my typewriter unable to stop looking at the office window.

"Hummm…" I pondered "Chapter one The rugged cowboy" I smiled as I typed "upon arriving in the small old mining town I stopped and caught my breath 'Melody Lane' what have you got yourself into this time..."

[nomadicauthor287]

Wild West AU

Sorry this took so long y’all! Enjoy! Be sure to like and reblog!

In the year of the force 1865, the great civil war came to a close. But with the end came a great cost, although the separatists lost, the republic lost as well with the mass execution of the generals for reasons of treason against the president. The republic was burned and a new order rose from the ashes. The Empire took over different territories claiming it was for peace but little by little it turned into tyranny.

Wrecker: Luther “Wrecker” Warner

Echo: Lewis “Echo” Sloan (Pair of revolvers)

Hunter: Bernard “Hunter” Spence (knives, knives, axes)

Crosshairs: Julius “Crosshairs” Spears

Tech: Irving “Tech” Bullock

Crosshairs is a Lieutenant Colonel in the Empire. A ruthless man is known for his remarkable marksmanship. Troops on both sides called him an angel of death because he just needed one shot to kill his target.

He rose through the ranks with his ruthless nature until he made his way up to Lieutenant Colonel.

But only a few people know about his one weakness. His little sister, Omega, is only 7 years old but smart as a whip and prodigy at strategy games.

Crosshair doesn’t trust anyone with his youngest sister. While he is an angel of death, she is an angel of life

Her brother tests her by challenging her to either chess matches and with hypothetical situations of battle with dioramas she made

Those tests were actually plans he uses to train his troops for battle

Also, battle strategies he uses

When Omega finds out what her strategies were made for battle and saw what happened to the systems after they swept through she was horrified

Lately, the Empire has been dealing with bandits that have been intercepting telegrams to steal supplies

Weapons

Food

Crosshair is tasked with the capture of these bandits

Some time passes and Omega makes a plan to escape

When she does escape her supplies and horse are immediately stolen once night falls

So she walks to town where she sells her headband given to her by her governess (Nala Se)

She walks into a local saloon and gets some grub

There was no other place to sit except next to this group of mercenaries talking about their next job

They question her why she’s sitting next to them and why she doesn’t move

She says she feels comfortable around them and the bespeckled fellow comments that that has never happened before

Their longhair leader questions her on why she’s here and where her parents are

She tells them she’s on a mission to save her people in the village she ran away from

She follows them to a saloon run by Cid

She’s one of the most successful women on that side of the West

They do jobs for ammo and supplies

She stows away on their wagon the next day when they go on a job

Wrecker is a wild man who loves nature and all her creatures

has a burro named Burrito

A Jackalope named Lula

Hunter is their big brother and leader of the group

Sometimes he doesn’t know what he’s doing

Echo is handicapped from the war but that doesn’t mean he can’t fight

He may not look it but he’s got plenty of fight left in him to find out what happened to his brother

Tech is the smartest and dumbest one out of all of them

He can tap into telegram lines as well as make all their equipment

The job they go on is to track someone who’s been kidnapping people

Zygerrians trying to bring slavery back

Omega makes herself useful and helps them recover the kidnapped people plus their target, Muchi

On that job she claims a bow from a boy who thanks her for saving him

Wrecker decided to let her stay with them

So they let Omega stay with them

Some time passes and Omega learns new skills from them

How to change a wheels

How to lasso creatures

Tap into telegram lines

Cook

Pan for gold

Next job they have to retrieve stolen resources

This time they enlist the help of the crew called the Green Phantoms

The Green Phantoms- (my OCs)

[I’ll do a character board soon]

10 members in all

They were an elite team made by a third party

They thought if kids with mystic powers were trained from infants they would be stronger

With training and surgical enhancements, it would make them stronger

They were said to be myths because there was no proof they existed because most targets associated with them were killed by “natural” causes or went missing

Luna Blade

Othed Dragoah

Verk Wress

Cam Tretey

Barux Rhitron

Ser Limser

Vonich Jhuc

Res Blonir

Ciara Blade

Koji

They track down the supplies to a remote part of the west in a canyon

They make Omega the lookout in case something goes wrong

There it’s rumored that there is a whole family of inbreds who ride on the backs of keeradaks

Once they have a visual on the supply cart they hold the Patriarch at gunpoint and tell him to bring out the rest of his family with their hands up

Turns out that wasn’t a good idea because his whole clan comes out

Someone fires a shot but it wasn’t anyone on the ground and the bantha pulling the wagon freaks out and runs

Tech and Ciara drive the cart while the others fight off the clan

The family chase them down on keeradaks

Some of the family board the cart and attack the drives until Hunter and Luna on horseback fought them off while the rest of the Green Phantoms fight off those on top of the cart

During all of this though Barux was negotiating moonshine prices with the matriarch

Rango - Water chase

The family starts tossing dynamite at them

Then Koji gets lasso’d off the wagon which helps her board and then rides the keeradak

Towards the end of the line, someone shoots one of the wheels off of the wagon and it comes to a stop

Turns out the cart was a trap and was full of imperial soldiers

All of them are captured and are put under arrest by order of Lieutenant Colonel Julius Spears or Crosshair

He beats both Luna and Hunter for the location of his sister

“Is this any way to treat your brother Julius!” Luna spat

Omega who was hiding in the distance with Burrito

“Brother?” she questions

She was shocked that the men who took her in were actually her brothers

Luna causes a distraction that lets Hunter, Tech, Echo, Wrecker, and Ciara escape with Omega

They all run away to a ranch run by their friend Cut where they hideout for a few days

End of part 1?

@soundwavetherav @zaffur @echoy-naak @eyecandyeoz @dreamy-day-daze @kratosfan6632466 @agentmarymargaretskitz @itsjml

[popculturebuffet]

The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck Retrospective: The King of the Klondike! *Creeeeeeaaaakkk*

Welcome back all you happy people ! It’s been an enternity hasn’t it? It’s been a whopping four months since the last part of this retrospective and I am deeply sorry about that. 

As for the why behind it that’s a bit of a story so bear with me: When I started properly scheduling my reviews, I had the lofty goal of doing 6 a week, having content for every day of the week and in theory giving myself a day off to take care of myself and to do stuff around the house. In practice it left me scrambling to keep up with that pace, with me often pushing back reviews that weren’t comissions or if they were seasonal canceling them out right. This is why both this and the Tom Lucitor retrospective have taken so long: I need the comissoins and patreon to live off of. And while I could use more of both (Just hit up my ask box or PM’s for comissions  and see the blog itself for prices, and go HEREEEE for my patreon.), And even if they weren’t my life blood, I still pride myself on being good to my customers: these are two people who geninely like and belivie in me and pay me to see more of my work on a regular basis. I do not like letting them down, even though they are completely understanding about delays and such because Kev and Em are really good people. It dosen’t mean I put any less effort into my passion projects, I love this retrospective, it just means I have to priortize for their sake and my own and if I have to push something back, it’s going to be the thing I can afford to wait on and do any other day. 

In fact it was Emma’s suggestion I scale back as I was clearly running myself ragged trying to live up to some lofty self imposed standard I was never going to reach, and so I did.. by one review a week. I even reset the schedule to fit this.  As you can tell by the fact it took four months AFTER I supposidly solved the problem to get to this review, that didn’t pan out. 5 was still too much, especailly when I started doing movies more often, and eventually I had to make the tough decision and scale back further to four reviews a week. As such I had to cut a quarter of my reviews i’d already set up from September, October and November. So my plans to speed run the rest of the main story of life and times naturally got cut with that, and I instead had to push back my next review to today, Scrooge’s b-day. 

The bright side is this scaling back was finally enough: my mental state has shot back up and as such I feel my reviews have been the best they’ve ever been.  Only having to do four reviews a week is far easier and while I occasionally still have to bump something to next week everything is getting done and done well.  Not only that i’ve been only gaining followers since the shift, with my numbers going up a significant amount. So while it sadly delayed this and other projects, and got me to reevaulate another project completely, in the end it was for the best.

So with all that finally squared away i’m back and just in time for the end of the story’s second act and one of it’s biggest stories both in length and in importance: After 7 chapters and 20 years of hardship and struggle we’ve come to the moment that would change Scrooge’s life: the moment he FINALLY becomes rich in the Yukon Gold Rush. But naturally this being Scrooge he has to get through a theiving conman, harsh winters, harsher work to get there.. all being watched by an oh so familiar Saloon Gal. It’s easily one of Rosa’s finest stories and it’s all under the cut, so rush under there and dig up some gold with me won’t you?

We begin with our opening scrapbook page which in a great line says that “Scrooge has lived a life of poverty and failure.. and that life is at an end”.  After that awesome line we see Scrooge apporaching Skagway, Alaska, traveling there after what he saw in the dreamtime last chapter, working his way there as a coal shoveler on a steam engine. Skagway was the main stop for most for suplies and such on the way to the Yukon, and while Rosa fudged the geogrphy a bit, he felt the story just wouldn’t work without the iconic location. 

Already though things aren’t going to be easy as the bank is too muddy for the boat to get into town. This being scrooge though this barely slows him down and he simply platforms his way across boats to get there, eventually jumping right past a sharp dressed man.. who happens to be famous outlaw Wyatt Earp.  This goes as poorly as you’d expect.. for Eyrp who egotistically plans to shoot the man for his offense as was law in the old west.. only to see scrooge swing his dime and realize JUST who he’s fucking with. 

Said drink goes poorly as you’d expect dining with a very known, very inconspicuous outlaw to as some greasy buttcrack pooflap challenges Earp, the two wreck up the place and Scrooge has to pay the bill. I imagine this is why most people don’t take Tony Stark up on an offer of a free lunch. 

So without any other options Scrooge has to do the one thing he hates most: 

 While his reasons for not wanting a loan are typically scroogie, he is absolutely right to not trust said loan person, Soapy Slick, who just has the kind of face that says “Ill take your kidney and won’t put you in ice after I do”. As such Scrooge gets a steep 10% intrest, but takes it, with Soapy confident that Scrooge can’t pay it back since ther’es no gold here.. only for their to be reports of GOLD IN THEM THAR HILLS in the Yukon. Slick is as petty an asshole as you’d expect a shady pig runing a shamelessly crooked payday loan scam, so someone running a payday loan office then, and jacks it up to 100% and while it is illegal, he’s going to be crossing the border to fast for the law to catch up with him and Scrooge can’t afford to wait lest his 100 become worthless. He grabs some gear and heads to the , hup, GREAT NORTTTHHHH. 

Scrooge begins his trek the first obstacle being a long mountain pass that Slick bipasses with the power of money, doing so again at the next stop by buying up the remaning sled dogs. Scrooge is undetered though, and we get our second reminder of how far he’s come and what he’s done to get here, and our first show of the skills he’s picked up: he fashions a flute similar to the one he used in the chapter and calls over a moose with it since it’s cries are similar enough to an emus and uses that. Slick starts to realize how badly he’s fucked up and starts planning Scrooge’s funeral. 

At the end of the trail is Dawson, what will eventually be a bustling boom town but for now is just two buildlings... one of which contains one of the most important people Scrooge will ever meet: Goldie’O’Gilt, whose set up a blackjack parlor and gladly rents out a table to slick for his shady dealings. She’s not glittering yet but she figures she should be by summer. She also meets Scrooge for the first time EXACTLY how you’d figure: she offers him a bite to eat and some whiskeeeyyyy and he says regular meals are for softies and trudges off. Naturally her response to him  brushing her off and truding off alone is...

Scrooge heads north and while a local duck offers to take him across the river, Scrooge decides instead to keep going north, as no one’s looking at the northern rivers and thus all that gold will be Scrooge’s alone. The only hiccup is the glacier leading to said river is incredibly deadly and is said to have a monster inside. This being the man who road a fucking lion, it dosen’t phase Scrooge one bit and he enters the cave and finds the monster: a frozen, awe inspiring wooly mammoth. But again, road a lion so Scrooge heads under it’s legs and finds an unspoiled swath of country, the famous White Agony Creek. No one’s made it here so it’s an utterl beautiful bit of unspoiled nature. 

The only problem is as Scrooge notes his previous prospecting experince has been in rivers and mountains, never creeks. Thankfully the tricks Scrooge picked up from Rockerduck on prospecting and his experince he picked up on his own close the gap and in a hilaroius and simletaniously badass scene, Scrooge casually checks a fucking bear for traces and a week and many bears later, Rosa’s fantastic joke, he checks a goddamn wolf’s teeth, finds flecks and figures sicne the anmals farthest upstream are the ones with gold traces, the motherload must be in the mountains. 

He continues to show off his badassery and skill, spotting copper veis the the mountain then flying on a goddamn bald eagle till he finds the spot he’s looking for. I don’t have to remotely inflate Scrooge’s deeds he’s just that badass. So Scrooge stakes his claim there and sets up a tent, spending the next few months working his ass off but coming up for little, so buisness as usual. 

Eventually winter has come and while Scrooge tries to tough it out in the tent, it’s clear he’ll need a cabin, so he’ll have to use what little gold dust he has to get the saws, nails and payback some of his interest. He does to Slick’s annoyance, and as for why Slick just hasn’t sent some hired goons to jump him, Scrooge is too smart for that, doubling back and kicking ass any time he’s followed. He also hasn’t filed a cliam on his territory yet as, having had to fight a hundred of them once, he’s not stupid enough to invite an army of claimjumpers after him. Goldie also continues to be horny for him as he rejects her offers to gamble, which while really the extent of her roll in this story does sum up their relationship in a nutshell. 

If your wondering why her roll is so small, it WAS orignally bigger: the original version had Grandma Duck and Co showing up a few chapters early runnin ga general store and had Goldie trying to steal Scrooge’s claim once he got it, leading to a catfight with Grandma Duck because Rosa is not subtle about his fetishes. But his editor rightly pointed out this made the story focuse more on the side cast than the actual main character so it was reworked. Goldie would later get two Life and Times Side Stories to make up for it, one of which i’ll be covering in January, so it evens out and she still gets enough screentime to satisfy as we do get her origin story. 

Scrooge gets back to work and we get some more time passing: Scrooge buids his cabin, his first real home since leaving Scottland, worries about his family and hides the necronomicon ex mortis in the basement after dealing with a brief bout of demonic possesion. Nothing he can’t handle. We get a good gag here or there but the main point is Scrooge has built up a sluce and is bringing in ever more gold. So he decides to take one more trip into Dawson to both payoff his loan and file his claim. 

Problem is Dawson’s kinda.. changed while he’s been gone

As you can see it’s basically a pioneer era gotham city with no batman and only a pissed off duck who dosen’t care if you live or die as long as you pay what you owe him. He gets his claim and pays off Slick.. whose confident this is the end of their time together.. but NOT how Scrooge thinks. He also has a slick, pun intended, riverboat gambling fortress. Say what you will about the man, his transparent evilness, his lack of any other traits, his smell that somehow wafts through the digital copy I have of this story and into my soul staning it forevermore.. or at least till I get some bleach.. but a riverboat is a bitching villian lair. We get another hint of goldie whose hands we can’t see this time, likely jammed down the hatch she installed in her fancy saloon dress for just this sort of occasoin. 

Scrooge baffles some more claim jumpers after picking up his mail... only for Slick to sucker him and tie him up on his boat because he’s about as standard and cardboard as a badguy can get. OF course he’s going to gloat about his evil scheme while the heroes tied up. He explains if he has the cliam papers, it’s his legally. I”d argue the legality of this but Dawson seems to run on a system of “it’s the purge yo” when it comes to laws, so he’s good. 

He then gets extra sadstically dickish in a frankly hard to read scene as he mocks Scrooge’s letters from his family and reads them outloud the hood snaturally mistaking “having human feelings and connections” for “sissy boy”. But then.. in one of the most gutwrenching reveals of the entire comic.. he goes too far. 

Yes with one offhand dickish comment.. we, and poor Scrooge find out Downy is dead. It’s an utter gut punch as while she honestly has barely been a character, one benefit to the reboot’s decision to keep her alive was it allowed them to flesh her out way more than Rosa did, it dosen’t make the fact Scrooge looses his loving, sweet mother who FINALLY got a decent home after years of struggling in a small dingy cabin, passed.. and he finds out being mocked by his enemy.

As you can see though..... Scrooge is not handling his grief or the MOCKERY of his beloved mother, who strugled her whole life to support him and his sisters, well.... and thus we get easily my favorite panel in the entire comic, one of the best and most defining moments for Scrooge as a character. 

Just pure rage, pure anger, and pure grief, all directed at a bunch of grown man crapping themselves at the prospect of the beating their about to receive. This leads to scrooge RIPPING THE RIVERBOATS SMOKESTACKS APART WITH HIS PURE RAGE. Granted the following pages at the Caveat that it’s hard to tell what's true and just how much of the riverboat carnage we see, from flying pianos to the whole boat collapsing actually happened, but boy is it awesome. And frankly, given we’ve seen scrooge ride a lion, fly a bald eagle and slide under a mammoth is it REALLY that much of a stretch?

It’s not but clearly Rosa felt differently.. and so did european readers leading to this REALLY baffling bit of authors notes

First off as always fuck off Rosa. I get the Dark Age of Comics was bad, it was, but superhero fans ALSO rejected grim and gritter vigilantes. There was an epic yearlong storyline in batman built ENTIRELY on the thesis of showing the edgelord fans of the time who were asking for a batman who was more grim and gritty just how terrible an idea that was, what a man like that would be and do with the power, and what it’d take for batman to take him down. Wonder Woman did a similar storyline and Spider-Man did an entire epic, if flawed story in Maximum Carnage showing WHy spider-man dosen’t kill. 

I didn’t think i’d HAVE to give him more crap about his hatred of superheroes after the Super Snooper review, but clearly I was wrong. I’m also baffled if unsurprised at there fans being reactionary enough to assume ONE SCENE meant Don Rosa was turning Scrooge McDuck into the freaking punisher.  I mean I get it, fans get passionate about comics but jesus christ is this hilariously naive. So outrage or no Scrooge is throughly crowned as

So with that we get our climax and goldies. Some time later Scrooge is still working hard and is now dealing with Claimjumpers. But he soon finds his destiny in the most scrooge way duckily possible as he prepares to bash one of their heads in with a rock.. only for him to slump over from it’s weight. He realizes quickly it’s gold and we get another iconic scene to close out the story, and easily one of the best scenes in the entire comic if not the best as Scrooge wonders over his change of fate.. and embraces his destiny. 

After 20 years of blood, sweat , tears and bashing someone’s head in.. Scrooge is finally rich. It took the sum of all his work to get here: From his humble start as a shoeshine on a flaming horse, to his time on a riverboat learning the end goal wasn’t worth it, having this goal sunk in with his time roping and riding in the badlands, learning prospecting while fighting a hundred men and learning just how fickle most can be, fighting tooth and nail for his family’s legacy and earning his future back, teaching the person who taught him never to trust easily to NEVER cross Scrooge McDuck, and learning to respect culture while still using it as a valuable tool in his quest for riches. All of this has lead to his succes, his triumph and his well earned victory here. While Scrooge had one or two possible swipes at victory, any of those would’ve fallen flat, not having the wisdom or experince to truly USE his wealth wisely. But now 20 years after his father’s inspiring act... Scrooge has EARNED , through all his experince and determination, his fortune. He was tougher than the toughies, smater than the smarties, sharper than the sharpies.. and he made his way square. And as the panel says.. this is only the beginning.

Final Thoughts;

There isn’t much I can add here. This issue is excellent, greatly paced and calling back to almost every chapter in some way great and small as alll scrooge’s experinces lead to this triumph. Everything he is lead to this and it’s glorious to see and the last bit of obstacles leading up to it are fun. Even Soapy, Rosa taking a one note villian..a dn doing nothing to change that works because the story isn’t about who scrooge is facing. A spoonge could’ve laughed at his dead mother and it would’ve had the same effect. It’s about showing just how much Scrooge has evolved, from a wide eyed teenager who set out for the missii to a far more bitter, but far more unstoppable man, the one we’d come to know and love in his old age. This story is all about Scrooge finally solidfiying himself as the badass we know. As Rosa himself put it, this is, in english lit terms, the climax of the story. It’s the resolution to everything before it. What’s next.. is the falling action. We’ve seen how scrooge becomes a billionare.. now we get to see how that changes him as a person and changes his family.  And that starts with next time as the very things that made him who he is... will make it impossible for him to return to Scotland for long. That’s coming in January, as December is full up but for now follow me for more fun stuff, I have another Scrooge review this week as while his birthday is over, the celebration is not, a review of Krampus and the last two episodes of amphibia this seaosn all in the pipeline and duck wise I have a nice christmas bushel of content, from a barks story I coudlnt’ help but cover after seeing a panel of it, to FINALLY tackling ducktales christmas episodes. Get vaccinated, wear a mask, and have a good day, night or whenever you get this.