#but also we have new neighbors down the road and part of me is like fuck do they think hes a stray

[gallonofgoldfish]

Flowers and Fireworks

Returning to business as usual on the ranch is hardly monotonous with Abby around. New faces and old trails make for good company, even if it means getting sidetracked.

Pairing: cowpoke!abby x reader (sort of)

Content: established relationship, brief cowboy ellie, fluff, poor attempts at writing southern accents (i dont even think theyre in the south), reader isn't described, sort of a part two?, author needs a cowboy partner asap, i know less about horses than before, i don't think any warnings apply

A/N: the brainrot is brainrotting. i wanted to write cowboy ellie but then got distracted by both abby and the excitement of a motor vehicle. had a very specific song stuck in my head while writing this but now icant remember what it was (something colter wall??). anyway hopefully this is a fun read even tho its not too eventful (and also was not proofread lolz). planning to have more ellie in the next part if it ever gets written bc we're going to the CLERBBBB

WC: 1508

You haven’t met her yet, but you’ve felt the tension in the air like something’s about to snap into place.

She’s the rookie. The new kid. The hotshot from some bigger, richer ranch further west with a reputation that stirs more talk than her name—whatever it might be. She’s the racer on the back of a chestnut mare in a denim jacket with rolled-up sleeves and workboots that must’ve lost their shine long before she came here.

And she’s lunging in the ring outside the stables, faded black hat crooked, casting a stubborn shadow over the leafy tattoo wrapped around her forearm. Choppy brown hair brushes her shoulders and burns a color like coffee in the dying sunlight. 

Not that you care. You’ve got places to be, and she’ll fall in with the rest of the wranglers eventually.

Gravel crunches some ways down the road behind you, but Abby doesn’t kill the ATV’s engine in time to sneak up on you completely. She comes coasting down the dusty path, toothpick hanging from the corner of her mouth as she grins sideways at you and rolls to a stop. 

“You talk to ‘er yet?” she asks, and the sun flashes over the lenses of her aviators when she tilts her hat out of the way. 

“Not yet. You?”

Abby shakes her head. “Heard she ain’t done too much talkin’ to anyone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” You plant your hands on your hips and nod. “What else’d you hear?”

“Well, what’d you hear?”

“I asked you first.”

She bites down on her bottom lip, jerking her head at you. “Get over here and I’ll tell you.”

“You’re an ass,” you tease, but hop up onto the quad’s grate so your back leans against hers. 

“What, I get one record and you think we’re some big-timers?” Abby scoffs, nudging you with her shoulder. Her braid shifts in the humid breeze. “We got work to do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” is all you mumble as the ATV purrs back to life and jolts towards the barns in the distance. “Tell me what you heard.”

“Not much,” admits Abby. “I mean, not much you don’t already know. She’s got just about the same story as the rest of us. Some ribbons under her belt.”

Dust kicks up from the tires, funneling right past the mudflaps to gather on your jeans. “She got a name?”

“Relax. I’m gettin’ there.” Abby leans to the side to shoot you a skeptical, if halfhearted, glance. “What’re you tryin’ to get under her belt, too?”

“Abby.”

She laughs, then turns her focus back to the road. “Ellie,” she finally says. “Ellie Williams.”

“Alright.” The smell of fuel mingles with the freshness of the tallgrass scrolling by on either side, either one a welcome break from the tinge of manure drifting in from the neighboring fields. 

“Just alright?”

“Well, what the hell else am I supposed to say?” you ask. “I don’t know the girl.”

“I got a good idea.” The engine cuts again. The two of you come to a stop in the shadows just outside one of the stables, before the open sliding doors that stare right out over the mountains. Abby twists to look at you head-on. “How ‘bout you just tell me when we’re good to go?”

----------

“Y’know—” Your nose crinkles as you squint against the sun, shifting in the saddle with every step the horse beneath you takes. “I thought Manny was helpin’ you with this run.”

It’s muscle memory—tacking, adjusting, swinging up into the seat. Practiced. Routine. But it never gets old. Not the cool tones of the mountains shattering the skyline on the far side of the valley, or the steady gait of the horses as they fall into step beside one another. And definitely not Abby.

“He was,” she confirms. One hand holds the reins while the other settles her sunglasses on the brim of her hat. “‘Til he got busy.”

“With?”

The corners of her eyes crinkle with a smile. “The usual.”

“Sure.” You raise a brow. “And who’s the usual this week?”

“Beats me,” says Abby with a shrug. “Long as it ain’t you, it ain’t my problem.”

“Speak for yourself. The last usual kept leavin’ him notes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. In the wrong fuckin’ bunk.”

Another grin creeps across her lips as she looks back. Gold falls over her freckled face, flooding the scar on her cheek with light. 

“A little light readin’ never hurt nobody,” she teases. 

“You think?” You tilt your head, unable to avoid the same expression writing itself into your features. “Then next time—”

She’s drawing away, picking up pace.

“Hey, now,” you call, but she doesn’t seem to hear. You nudge your horse’s side to urge them on. Still, though, Abby’s got a good lead. She passes under the low-hanging branches of the trees bordering the path, through a set of rusted iron gates. 

Then, she flicks the reins and takes off. 

“Abby!” you shout, and with no choice left but to do the same, chase after her. 

A cloud of dust stirs up behind her, but you ride right through it, and soon, the trail falls away. 

“I thought you said you got work to do!” 

She laughs, easing up and straightening to drop back and match your pace when you slow. Tallgrass rises on either side of the makeshift path—trampled dirt and dust and the curled-up bodies of flowers unlucky enough to fall into the path of passing hooves. 

“We do,” she says. “That don’t mean we can’t take our time.”

“It’ll be dark soon, yeah?”

“Not that much time.” Abby rolls her eyes and smiles. “We’re just takin’ the scenic route.”

“You know where we’re goin’?” you check.

“Just c’mon.” Turning back to the trail ahead, she nudges her horse to a quicker gait. The unbuttoned front of her flannel flutters around her, giving way to the thin white tank top underneath. 

The ground slopes down, further into the field, as the sun fades over the jagged peaks. Through the yellowed straw and the waves of rippling green, pops of color appear where bright flowers have pushed through the soil and bloomed.

“You ever been this way before?” asks Abby.

You shake your head. “Not that I remember.”

The field is glowing, burning under dusk’s light. She’s glowing with it.

“Well, then.” She shoots you a wink. “You’re in for a treat.”

Just like that, she’s off again. 

The rough path winds down the ridges in the hill, between weeping trees with lazy, swaying branches that force you to duck. Over wooden planks laid out across the marshier parts of the lower pastures and a bridge where a dried-up river leaves a gash in the ground. Back up another slope, another patchy flower field, another grove. 

Until Abby stops to look back at you.

The Ranch sprawls over the acres of land before the two of you, windows lit in the bunkhouse and the barns and lanterns burning alongside the settled paths. The dark shapes of other hands wander like ants across the grass, while the mingling shadows of cattle fill the squares of plains just below. 

“Wait,” Abby urges. The horses paw boredly at the dirt, but, like you, remain in place as the warm summer breeze snakes around you. “Heard about this from a friend last time I was in town.”

You shoot her a curious glance.

“Don’t look at me.” She waves you away, grinning, and points towards the horizon instead. “Over there.”

The first stars are peeking through the bluish parts of the sky, just where it meets the hills. There’s a flash. A burst of red sparks. 

“Fireworks?” Even from afar, their light unfurls over your face. 

“Sure are.” Abby falls silent as the bang from the explosion crashes, muted, through the valley. “They had some leftovers from the fourth.” She sighs, then asks: “Some view, ain’t it?”

Another smattering of colorful bursts erupts over the hills. Another chorus of pops thunder over the grass. The sky changes from one color to the next, smoke gathering in thin gray wisps along the skyline, before you look away.

The lights dance in the lenses of Abby’s aviators where they’re still sitting on her hat, but don’t quite reach her eyes. She hasn’t been watching the fireworks at all; she’s been looking at you instead.

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning over to kiss her. “Some view,” you say against her lips.

“Anyway—” Clearing her throat, she straightens, then jerks her chin towards the cattle in the field below. “Race you down there.”

“Hey—”

But she’s already gone. Racing back down the hillside, still bathed in the far-off lights.

“You’re gonna owe me a drink!” she calls, though she’s already dropped out of view.

After a last glimpse at the fireworks blooming over the ranch, you pick up the reins again and turn to follow.

The flowers and the fireworks blur, blooming and bursting against the shaded countryside. Lining the hills and lighting the sky and leading you.

Leading you right back to her.

[jbk405]

Hmmm, Furiosa was not what I expected. It's a very different film from Mad Max: Fury Road, and part of me wants to have a knee-jerk reaction "It's different so it's bad". And that's not the case, but nonetheless it is very different.

On the positives, I'm very impressed by the way they packed in so much of Furiosa's whole life. I expected a prologue of her as a kid, and then flash-cut to her as an adult. I didn't think we'd see her as a kid for years, then more years as a teen, and then still more years as an adult. You could feel the time passing, and it really seemed like she was "growing up" over time even though it was only two actresses.

I also liked the entire vibe with Praetorian Jack. He looked like a throwback to Max from the earlier films, but wasn't just a copy stand-in to say "We can't SAY he's Max but he's totally Max". The relationship between Jack and Furiosa isn't quite romantic, but it's absolutely filled with the tragedy of potential of What Could Have Been.

I do think it was a mistake to introduce an entire new wasteland warlord as Furiosa's personal nemesis. Dementus is certainly a fascinating character and Chris Hemsworth plays him very well (I'm reminded of his role as the cult leader Billy Lee in Bad Times at the El Royale) but it completely undercuts Furiosa's plotline in Fury Road. I'm not going to say that Immortan Joe "isn't that bad" in this film or anything like that (He's still running a death cult populated by sex slaves), but he doesn't do anything bad to Furiosa. He takes her from Dementus and is going to turn her into a sex slave, but she escapes after a few days and then...that's it. There's no reference to him executing any of the other Wives as punishment for her escape, or scenes of him pulling in and torturing bystanders for information. By all indications he doesn't even search for her. She's still stuck in his horrible oppressive society at the Citadel, but it's a very generic oppression. So her powerful and absolutely venomous remark "Remember me?!?!" before killing him in Fury Road makes no sense because what is there to remember? In fact, they actually have her use the same line on Dementus in this film, and here she's calling back to how Dementus killed her mother and held her prisoner for years and literally drank her blood. Compared to him, Joe was....okay I still can't say "not that bad" but he didn't do anything to Furiosa specifically.

Furiosa also didn't do anything particularly bad in service to Joe for which she needs to find redemption. She drives the War Rig and fights raiders, but in this film that seems to just be self-defense instead of offense. She doesn't lead raids on neighboring societies, or capture escaping slaves, or put down a revolt of his oppressed subjects, or anything else. Yes, the very fact that she supports Joe's reign at all is bad, but again it's a very generic badness.

Also, and this is purely a personal gripe, but I found it ridiculous and immersion-breaking that Furiosa had long hair throughout the middle of the movie. Once she cut her hair in order to escape from Rictus she should have kept it short, because she's masquerading as a boy in the Citadel and they all have short hair. It completely breaks her disguise, and she's not shown doing any rituals or particular styling with it that could say "She's honoring the traditions of her people" as a justification. If they just wanted to show Anya Taylor-Joy with long hair they could have had the character decide to grow it out after teaming up with Jack and making concrete plans to return to the Green Place. That could have made sense. But to say that she's just always kept her hair past shoulder-length while hiding out from a woman-enslaving sex cult for 10 years is just...odd.

It's very much not a bad movie, and I'm planning to buy it on Blu-ray once it's available, but it's not the MASTERPIECE that Fury Road was.

[batllethinker]

Wandanat fic recs

Shades of green by ariesfriend 18+

Just good ole smut, bottom Nat because she's the best, kind of an au because Wanda wasn't snapped, fwb arrangement

Crimson and all its colors by wasted_potential_007

Angst, Wanda gets taken hostage by a red room copy so imagine Nats recovery but Wanda, it's unfinished and doesn't really have a satisfying ending but it's a good read

Rose by terrifier

Hanahaki disease, angsty, there's no actual confession so Wanda almost dies until Nat comes in, very last minute

May the Gods Strike Me Down If I Forsake You by LetheOblivion

Wanda gets freed from the raft, major trauma, very sad, a long road to recovery, major hurt/comfort (unfinished)

I don't see what you see (but I want to) by orphan_account

Wanda has an eating disorder, Wanda and Nat finally talk about it, some sweet cuddling

Terminal by scarlet_black

Wanda has cancer, Nat is sad, they make the best of it, major character death in both endings

Words from the heart by fanfictionisthegame 18+

Professors Wandanat, very whory, very long, finished, feel like I should put a tw for abusive Maria, it's mostly just fluff and smut tho (there's a part 2 too)

Something new by novoaa1 18+

They try anal

Sour girl by dollylux 18+

Wanda is severly traumatized, Nat is her neighbor, they become friends and fuck later (read tags)

The Scarlet Witch is Only a Child by Elfie_the_anonymous_turtle

Post aou, Nat is just mean and Wanda lets herself be tortured, not sure if there will be a relationship but there's obviously a great start (read tags)

Uses by Alex Moss 18+

Nat has comphet and tries to fuck Bucky, then Wanda fucks her

Business as unusual by Cinnamonsweatsocks 18+

Mob boss Nat, Ceo Wanda and their (slightly nd) assistant/gf R, what more could you ask for. I also really love their whole dynamic, with my beautifully switchy Nat, which is totally underrated

the sound of love's marching band by romanovasquinn

Nat has a panic attack and Wanda comforts her, very sweet and domestic

I'll still love you (even after we decay) by orphan_account

Angst, hurt/comfort, EDs, Wanda just grieving Pietro, slow burn and it has not been updated since last year so

Aching for you by venushill 18+

Abo au, friends with benefits Wandanat with very obvious feelings for eachother, Nat goes into heat and it's good

[clumsiestgiantess]

Part 6 of the poll story; choice D D)“I don’t mind you staying, but I do mind you harming the neighbor’s cat,” you tell him.  “We can go out tomorrow and find you another form to take.”

“Tomorrow?” Ralyr thinks for a moment, “Alright, I suppose one more day like this won’t kill me.  It hasn’t since I’ve taken this form,” he adds with a chuckle.  Stepping around you, he clambers up an electrical cord towards an an outlet in the wall.  “Wait!” you call confusedly.  The little being turns to you with the cover popped halfway off the wall.  “Yes?”  “What are you doing?  Why are you opening a hole in my wall?”  Ralyr blinks, slowly lifting his hands off the cover.  “I.. I’m going to find a comfortable place to stay the night.  Unless-  Would you rather I go make a burrow in someone else’s walls to keep out of yours?”

Baffled, you slide over beside him, gently reaching around him to shut the cover back against the wall.  “Ralyr, you don’t have to go make camp hiding between walls!  I told you you’re welcome to stay here.  I can get you a bed to sleep in.  It won’t be so hard for me; all you would need is a blanket and a pillow, being so small.”

The gears are turning in his little head.  Ralyr slides down the cord until his feet hit the top of your fist that holds it, landing expertly on the uneven surface.  Your heart skitters at the feeling of his little padded feet against your hand.  His eyes never leave yours, but the fur along his bottom half bristles as you touch.  “A.. bed?  Like a human bed with feathers and fabrics?”  You nod.  “You’re not joking?”  You shake your head.  “Wow, I.. don’t know what to say!  I haven’t slept in a bonafide human bed in…  I don’t think ever.  I’ve wanted to, though.”  A small smile grows on your face, “Well, now’s your chance.”  Gently, you open your hand and he adjusts, stepping onto your palm.  You’re about to lift him up, but he slips smoothly over the edge of your hand and slides down the electrical cord, gracefully coming to a halt at the floor.  “I don’t like to be manhandled,” he tells you simply.

Later that night, there’s a little bedroom made up across the floor in a newly-emptied corner of your room.  You’d offered to make him a place on a shelf or tabletop, but he’d declined.  Ralyr didn’t feel comfortable sleeping somewhere so high up.  “If I had wings it’d be a different story, but I don’t.  I know a girl who does, though.”  You had to step away for a moment just to process how casually he’d said that.  The both of you say your goodnights, Ralyr thanks you one last time, and both of you drift to sleep.  

You’re up before Ralyr the following morning.  On your way to the shower, you pass by his corner of the room.  The little being is curled up in the center of one of your pillows you’d given him, clutching a blanket to himself with only his head and the tip of his tiny tail sticking out of the side.  You have to admit, if only to yourself, that he looks rather cute sleeping cuddled up like that.  

As you get ready for the day ahead, you brainstorm some ideas as to where you can go with your little guest to get him a new form.  Four places come to mind.  There are two parks nearby, one a little further out of the way than the other.  There’s a national park that spans deep into a large forest about thirty minutes away which you have a pass to, but there’s also a neighborhood park down the road.  Even further away, there are two buildings that collaborate with eachother — a farm and a nature center.  However, you only have enough money to get into one of those places, which are on opposite sides of the road.

Will you go to: A) The large protected park

B) The neighborhood park

C) The farm

D) The nature reserve

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

USGS out here reminding us that we're getting old. Thanks.

I'm pretty sure Sibling has already filled this out for our location at the time so I don't have to.

(click through for Old Man Rambles About Historic Event)

The first thing I distinctly remember about that afternoon, being an elementary schooler at the time, was that I had *just* gotten all my homework done and I was sitting on the floor of the family room about to pull out some toys when I felt the floor shake. I assumed Sibling was jumping on the couch and turned around to yell at them to knock it off--only to find them standing stock still, staring at me with a look of growing apprehension on their face.

We were already familiar with earthquakes by that point and there's that moment in the first second or two where you kinda try to assess whether it's gonna peter out or whether you really have to go crawl under the table after all--and much to our horror, the shaking wasn't going away, it was actually getting worse. Much worse.

We both knew we could fit under the thick wood coffee table and that's where we were headed but our mom was panicking and screaming for us to come upstairs to her in the kitchen. I was like, well, maybe she thinks we'll all fit better under the kitchen table, fine. But the up-and down shaking was so violent it was actually hard to climb the stairs. And then, instead of directing us under the kitchen table my mom had us run out the front door and stand in the yard. At this point I'm no longer terrified, I'm actually getting annoyed at her for putting us through unnecessary risk--first, by making us run past all the windows in the kitchen, which could have exposed us to shattered glass if roof tiles from the neighbors' house had slid off and crashed into the window panes; next, by making us run out the front door, where we could have been hit by falling tiles from our own roof. And yes, I did lecture her about that once the shaking stopped. There's a reason I wasn't her favorite.

I remember several aftershocks as the neighbors gathered in their front yards and people brought out their radios to listen to the news. I could see new cracks in the plaster of our neighbor's house, but fortunately no one's roof tiles came off in our vicinity. We were very luckily situated at the base of several hills, so there was bedrock beneath our neighborhood; most of the houses were standing and structurally sound. The radio was letting us all know it was a lot worse for large parts of the city to the north.

It is probably fortunate that the earthquake struck only just as people were getting off work, before the freeways and bridges could fill up with traffic (people were also off the roads because they were either attending or watching the Battle of The Bay, and that has been credited with saving lives). But it meant that the folks who were planning on commuting home via public transit that day were SOL. My dad's office was right nearby the Civic Center Muni station and he usually took the LRV through the tunnel to get home, so we weren't sure where along his route he might have been caught in the quake. This led to a tense couple of hours of wondering what had happened to him. My mom eventually left us kids with the neighbors and drove out to find him. I don't remember if he had managed to find a working pay phone to call my mom at some point or not; he might have. Either way, he had still been up on the surface when the quake struck and was walking in the direction of home, following more or less the route he would have taken had he been in a car, so finding him wouldn't have been impossible, though traffic was a nightmare in the aftermath.

I'm a bit fuzzy on exactly what happened with that search, because my memory jumps from swapping stories about the quake with the neighbors' kid in their living room to me running to hug my dad by our own front yard gate. It was sunset when he came back, and once he was there my parents went through the house to assess the damage. Our tallest shelves had tipped over, some things had broken, but as far as disaster level quakes go we were doing just fine. We had bologna sandwiches for dinner by the light of our camp lanterns in the family room, huddled around the radio listening to the reports on the collapsed freeways, the Bridge, and the Marina. I remember that the soundscape of the city was distinctly different that evening. It was... quieter, I guess, since we were removed from where the bulk of the emergency service vehicles were concentrated. Quiet in an eerie way. And it was darker, since the power was out for pretty much everyone until well into the night. I think I remember getting ready for bed by lantern and then having the power come back on either right as I was getting to bed or sometime after I was in bed and trying to fall asleep.

The next day at school we all got official class time to swap stories about the quake. Some of the kids had actually been at the Battle of The Bay and I cannot imagine how surreal that must have been. Also, the big drama of the week was that one of our classmate's birthday parties was coming up in a week and a half and that was supposed to be a sleepover and a bunch of the parents were Not Okay with letting their kids go for a night so soon off the heels of a huge disaster. Elementary schooler priorities, you know. I don't even remember what the fuck we did for my birthday right after the quake. I think we must have had the party planned for that weekend and not the one before. It would have been enough time for my parents to clean up and for some bakeries to be back up and running, so I think it probably happened. Memory is weird.

My dad bought us all shitty T-shirts that said "I SURVIVED THE GREAT QUAKE OF '89" in neon orange letters from some street vendor like two weeks after this all happened and I think I only *just* tossed that a few months ago when I was trying to make room for my new round of questionable sartorial choices. Sorry fam, no ugly vintage 80s T-shirt pics for you. I think that one actually said "7.1" on it since at the time that was the magnitude they had reported on the news--it has since been revised to a 6.9, which in log scale is kind of a big difference but do you really even notice once the shaking is that hard? Probably not.

[kef-meister]

"It's not the heat that gets you."

There's a post going across my dashboard which talks about how awful the heat's getting - and reminding people "in the south" to be kind to people's suffering in the heat as a result of the climate crisis.

That's cool. However, Europe. Hi. I'm Kef and I live in The Netherlands - and anything past 78°F / 25° C can feel unbearable to me. My physical shape aside, let me introduce you to why myself and many others "can't deal" and can't just "hang a damp cloth in front of a fan". ---- 1. Climate

Up above is the "Feels Like" temperature data taken from zoom.earth - it shows that Europe lies much higher on the Earth's crust in reference to the equator than the US does, and my point with it is to show that, despite being Quebec's neighbors to the East, the temperature isn't as cold as it arguably "should" be.

2. Humidity In part thanks to the North Atlantic Current, things are considerably more warm and damp - but it didn't use to be as warm as it gets now. Entire countries in Europe are built around a cooler climate - right down to infrastructure - with the main focus being heat retention rather than dispersion.

Over in the Netherlands, many living spaces are rectangles with small windows, most of which do not open upwards and rather move sideways, like in this image taken in Amsterdam:

Shallow roofs. Heat rises, gets stuck. Brick retains heat. These living spaces don't air out easily despite the Dutch loving to complain about drafts. ("'Het tocht hier.") But it gets worse: no ceiling fans, no AC, no window fans. Imagine 70% humidity, 78° F without any of that.

3. Staying Cool I wish I was hyperbolic, but even in more modern housing it's not often you'll find windows suited for "window units" for either air conditioning or a fan - and speaking of fans, since the windows don't accommodate a decent unit to suck and blow, you're stuck with stand-alone fans - and they suck in a completely different way, since at worst they blow around warm, damp air in a warm, damp area. This is why 'swamp coolers', or hanging damp things in front of the fan don't work well. Terrible when it's already humid. And let's not talk about AC. People have to opt for installing heat pumps or mount units outside their house - you'll barely see window units here. While the portable units are awful, they'll have to do. I have one. It's half the size of a washing machine. I already don't want to use mine for environmental reasons, but I also don't want to suffer. Brings me to the next problem, though: 4. Whoops, All Electric With the push away from natural gases; towards 'green' energy; towards electric vehicles ... well, the power grid is fucked. underground all at once. Electricity is procured and consumed rapidly - we'll start seeing brown-outs in the next decade (article in Dutch); and new companies are already on a waiting list to be hooked up to electricity (article in Dutch). While the national government is aware and is taking steps (official statement, Dutch) - we can't exactly dig up all the power-lines we buried, and let's not forget that Amazon bought up half the electricity-production from the wind farm in the North Sea to "be green" - because if capitalism stands for anything, it's sustainability. /s In addition to the power lines, we can't easily fix the infrastructure built around a colder climate (no, seriously, the roads will melt and bridges and railways suffer from the heat expanding the metal too much) either - because it takes time and maintenance, and we're kind of running out of the former. 5. The Point There are places, countries, far better equipped to dealing with one specific climate over the other. Please let folks complain: let's not having a pissing contest over it and understand their plight; accept that the climate crisis is making people suffer (and worse - and I've not even tackled non-Western countries) and people ought to be held accountable. Take care of your homies. Stay hydrated. Condemn the push of "carbon footprint" onto the lower/middle class while the rich fly. Stay cool. You can make a difference, as long as you try. Eat the rich. It's not the heat that gets you, it's the humidity.

[alastgoodnight]

A few days had passed since Naomi received the strange letter. It almost seemed like a strange once-off event, until a second envelope was found. This time, the blocky writing was addressed to her, written as neatly as possible. There was a stamp in the top-right corner depicting a vivid, albeit slightly cartoonish, butterfly. The envelope felt bulkier than before. Not only was there the letter, there was also a heavier paper folded to fit in the envelope.

-

"Dear Miss Naomi,

It is very nice to meet you. Thank you for finding my letter and sending one back. It was very exciting to get a letter that was new. I like your drawing. I've put your letter on my corkboard so I can say 'good morning' and 'good night' to you, just like I do all my Neighbors.

It must be very exciting to live in a library. My friend Frank has a lot of books, and he is very clever. I'd bet you're very clever too if you have to take care of the books and your library. Was it sad to be alone for so long? It must be lonely to not be able to go anywhere. That's why I try to include Home in something every day. It likes to feel part of the Neighborhood.

Do Willa and Rags help you fix the library? Will they help you paint it?

I like fairy tales too. I thought about what was my favourite, so I asked my friend Sally. She's a star and an actor and has written lots of stories. She reminded me of the story of 'Jack and the Beanstalk'. I wish I could meet a giant. I'd like to be their friend. I wouldn't be scared of how big it is. Everyone is taller than me, ha ha ha.

Sally told me to tell you that she knows you can't come visit, but you need to know about her shows. We drew a picture of her version of the story called 'Sally and the Beanstalk'."

(Sure enough, the second folded picture was of a brightly coloured, star-headed figure standing beside the base of a beanstalk that grew off the page.)

"I also like stories about friendships. I think everyone should have a friend. Wouldn't that be the most? I'm glad you have friends with you, Miss Naomi. It makes every day a happy one to know you can spend it with people that you like.

Wally."

(heythereneighbor)

The letter arrives in the evening, after a day's work cleaning the patio and moving planter boxes around. Naomi finds it just as she emerges from the walk-in closet, tying the bow on her sailor-collar pyjamas, and smiles to herself.

She opens it the next morning over breakfast, and is careful not to get any fried egg yolk on it as she eats. It takes her some time to formulate her answer - and those planter boxes aren't quite how she likes them - so she doesn't sit down to answer until that afternoon, and even then, it takes a while to collect her thoughts.

So it won't be until about three days pass that her letter to Wally appears in what must be a very confused Eddie's mail bag. For now, she takes her time:

"Dear Wally, Thank you for your response! It was also very nice to get a surprise letter. I don't have a cork board yet, so I'm keeping it on my desk until I get one. I don't think "exciting" is the word I'd use, but it's quite pleasant here. Lullaby Lane is a very quiet road, so I have plenty of peace and quiet when Willa and Rags are resting or busy."

She stops and ponders the question that comes next, and hums to herself.

"Hey, Library, were you lonely before I got here?" A long, slow breeze blows outside the window, and she hums.

"I asked the Library if it was lonely before I got here. It can't talk with words, but it uses its doors and floorboards and the wind to communicate with me. I think its answer was yes, but these days it seems quite playful. It had Dust Bunnies (they're very small), but nobody else came or went for... I don't know how long, actually." Willa helps me with the library, but Rags mostly keeps me company. He's a very silly monster from under my bed, and likes to run around in the tall grass outside and play hide-and-seek. I'll draw a picture of him and Willa on the back today."

She smiles at the description of Jack and the Beanstalk, and is charmed by the sight of the artwork.

"Speaking of drawings, thank you for the artwork! I bet your friend Sally is very talented. When you get the time, please tell her I said thanks for sharing her vision. I've never acted, but I do like to read stories aloud. Maybe one day I could narrate one of hers? That's probably a long time from now, though."

And the last part. She smiles.

...She does have friends now, doesn't she? Fancy that.

"I agree, Wally, having friends every day would be the most. I'm very lucky to have met all of them, and I seem to meet more every day! This library may have been lonely once, but I don't think that will be a problem again for a very long time. It sounds like you have many friends, too! You've mentioned Eddie and Home, and now Frank and Sally. Is your neighborhood very big? Once again, thank you for writing me. Sincerely, Miss Naomi.

Once again it's sealed and addressed in a blue envelope, but this one is sealed with a goldfish sticker and a matching stamp. She drops it in the slot on the letterbox, and smiles when she doesn't hear it fall.

It's on its way.

@heythereneighbor

[duckdoeswords]

Change of Pace Ch.3 - I Know What I'm Doing

Summary: When a scandal breaks out after her father is arrested for Electoral fraud and Tax evasion she takes this opportunity to disappear leaving Atlas for a small town in the south where her Grandfather had a small farm that had fallen into disrepair. She arrives hoping to find a better life for herself and her daughter.

Words: 10,761

Main Relationship: Weiss Schnee/Ruby Rose

Rating: M

Notes: I'm currently working on posting links to fics I forgot about to tumblr. I'm also trying a new format for posting said links. If you want to set the mood for the fic please check out the playlist for it and you can check out my ko-fi if you want.

Fic:

Chapter Text

The drive back to her property was much more scenic in the daylight with fenced in pastures on either side with visible farm animals. “Horsies!” Ivory called pointing out her window, causing Weiss to look out her window to see a pasture full of horses, grazing peacefully. 

“Yeah. Horses.” Weiss turned her attention back to the road, watching for the part of the road that marked where she needed to turn, noticing a dingy yellow sign that marked the turnoff. Driving onto the unpaved road, the car shook slightly down the uneven path. Eventually, she came to the worn-out fence which she could now see was covered with creeping vines and weeds around the bottom. Pulling into the farm, she came to a stop in a small empty space just left of the gate. 

Putting the car in the park, leaving it running as she opened the door stepping out, and groaned. The property was a lot worse for wear than she had assumed it was last night. The weeds that she had thought only covered parts of the property she could now see were spread across nearly the entire property. There were more logs and even some rocks which she hadn’t seen the prior night. She let out a deep breath moving back around the car she looked at the front of the farmhouse which much like the rest of the property looked much worse than it had in the dark. There were weeds around the bottom of the porch and creeping vines crawling up the side of the walls. The wood that made up the walls looked like she could pull it apart with just her bare hands. The wood over the window and the door looked much sturdier than the wood the house was made of. Placing her hands on her hips, her shoulders moving up and down as she let out a heavy breath. ‘I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me.’ Opening the door, she climbed back inside her car and put it in reverse pulling out the county road and glancing in her rearview mirror at Ivory who kicked her legs back and forth happily as she looked out the window. 

The drive back to Tukson’s was spent listening to Ivory naming off all the animals she saw along the way and Weiss asking her what her favorite thing about each one was. 

“I like sheeps best ‘cause they look soooo soft. Do you think sheep are soft mommy?” 

“I’m sure they are. Maybe we can ask one of our neighbors if they’ll let you pet one?” 

“Really?” Ivory said excitedly, kicking her feet into the back of Weiss’s seat. 

“Hey!” Weiss looked over her shoulder at Ivory. “No kicking mommy’s seat.” 

Ivory looked sheepishly at her, ears pressed back on her head as she crossed her legs at the ankles. “Sorry, mommy.” 

“It’s fine, peanut. Mommy just needs to focus on the road.” 

“Okay!” Ivory said happily returning her attention to the world outside her window. 

They lapsed into silence for barely a moment before Ivory spoke up from the back. “I think I like horses a lot too. They have pretty hair.” 

“You mean their manes?” Weiss glanced at Ivory in her rearview mirror as she came to a stop at a red light. 

“Yeah. I like them.” Weiss listened to Ivory prattle on about horses and farm animals occasionally adding animals you would never find on a farm to her list. Weiss turned into Tukson’s parking lot, maneuvering into a parking space close to the inn side of the Inn and Tavern. Turning the car off, Weiss climbed out making her around to Ivory’s door. She opened the door, unbuckling her and letting her climb out. 

Closing the door, Weiss noticed the suitcases that filled the trunk and knew that, eventually, she would have to bring them up to her room. Taking a deep breath she turned to look down at Ivory who was sitting on the ground, pulling her shoes from her feet. “Seriously?” 

“They’re pinchy.” 

Read on ao3

[sanddusted-wisteria]

Latet Enim Veritas [Part 2/3]

Truth is indeed hidden...

F!Builder/Grace; fluff and angst

Warnings: Spoilers for Act 3. Major character death(?), mentions of animal death

Summary: Wisteria and Grace are still talking, even a hundred miles apart.

But is it easier or harder to hide the truth in letters?

Also on AO3

prev | next | index

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A/N: So uh…turns out the brainrot don't stop, and here I am again with Wis and Grace! Once again, I have no idea how this happened, but it's hereeeee

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Hey Wis,

What’s up? Sorry it took me so long to write. Had a lot to do once I got back to Atara. My professors were really interested to hear about all the relic discoveries we made in Sandrock. Gotta say, the entire field’s real pumped up about what we found. We got experts writing articles left and right about em. I’ve been making talks everywhere too. So many great questions! I’m pooped. But I think I’m back on my Atara schedule now. Feels weird after getting used to the Sandrock pace of life.

But anyway, that’s pretty much it for me. Just gotta keep going with my studies. How’ve you been? How’s Sandrock doing? Heard the Portia tunnel was just built. I can’t wait to see it when I get back!

Grace

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

Hey Grace!

It’s so good to hear from you! I’m still building (obviously). And yeah, the tunnel’s done, FINALLY. Had to deal with a nasty giant worm in there, but we got it. We started taking on some other projects too, now that the whole bandit situation’s wrapped up. We’re getting a school now! An old house just became available, so we’re building it on top of that. And with the road to Portia, we’re gonna try planting some more trees! Don’t think I’ve ever seen Zeke or Trudy so excited. And then a Geegler showed up one day from the canyon! He was the same guy that was trying to use a train to take over Sandrock all that time ago and broke the bridge. Name’s Larry. Seems like he’s good now…although he’s taken over your job at the saloon. Hope you don’t mind…

Oh yeah, and we got a new commissioner too. SOMEhow, it so happened to be Yan’s twin brother. Oh, and Yan apparently has a twin brother. Luckily he’s a lot more…like an actual human being than Yan was. Well, maybe. Man’s got skin like he’s twenty and says he’s more than twice my age… But at least he’s running a fair and tight ship. My guard’s not down yet, though.

How’d the meeting with your boss go? Never a fun thing to have a 1-on-1 with the boss. Trust me, I know. Hope it went okay. Hope you can come back soon.

Wis

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

Wis,

The meeting wasn’t as bad as I thought, honestly! The board of directors weren’t super thrilled with the rules violations, but the results speak for themselves, don’t they? Couple of them even commended my quick critical decision making! They let me off scot-free. Not even a warning or anything.

I just submitted my capstone yesterday. Just a final note to the whole Sandrock adventure. It felt really weird stamping it and packing it in the envelope and handing it in. Still feels weird. Thought I’d be throwing a huge celebration when I was done with this project, with drinks and everything. But all I wanted was to go to bed. So that’s what I did.

Slept like a log, even though it was pretty noisy upstairs. Sounded like they were throwing a parade or something up there with all the stomping and the music. Kinda feels nice to have a noisy neighbor every once in a while, I guess. Makes it feel a little less lonely. Especially since I haven’t seen you guys in so long. I really, really hope I can visit soon.

Grace

P.S.: Managed to hear some rumors that that new commissioner of yours is legit. Apparently his death certificate was forged?? Yan must’ve paid someone a pretty penny to get rid of him…or maybe not, since, y’know, he’s still alive.

P.P.S: Ha ha, now a Geegler’s taken over my job, huh? Well, as long as he can cook a proper omelet, I guess I can’t really complain. Maybe he can teach me some stuff when I get back. Wonder what Geeglers normally eat.

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

Grace,

I still miss you. We all do over here. The saloon doesn’t feel the same without you around. But don’t worry! We’re not going anywhere. The whole bandit situation proved that. Once you’re back, we can have that big celebration you planned.

How’s the archeology work and stuff? Not sure if the field’s cooled down by now and moved on to the next big thing. Hard to say from over here. It’s been like 2 months and Qi still won’t shut up about the spaceships. Not that I mind. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him so enthused about anything. And this time it doesn’t involve any property damage, so that’s a net positive!

Sandrock’s mostly still the same old. Only real difference is that Haru left pretty recently, though. He’s off to study chemistry in Atara. It’s great that he finally has the chance to chase his dreams. He told me to wish you well.

In other news, we planted a bunch of trees, but a sandstorm took them out. But we’re not giving up. There’s an Old World lab of some kind that’s supposed to have some different algae that we can try to make biocrust with. We’re going to explore it in a bit. Hopefully I can take some notes and pictures for you while I’m down there.

Be sure to get enough sleep, okay? Work’s important, but you can’t do it if you’re sleep-deprived.

Wis

P.S.: Wei’s proving himself…but my hackles aren’t down yet.

P.P.S.: Larry’s actually a pretty decent chef! Shame he can’t really partake in the fruits of his labor, though. Geeglers mostly eat algae. Apparently those algae machines we’ve been remaking are their “meal machines.” Fang’s been testing what human foods he’s able to eat. But even so, there is only ever ONE Grace Sand Omelet.

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

It was warm.

Warm air, warm food, warm lights.

Warm heart.

Owen raised his glass and said something. Grace couldn’t hear exactly what it was, but his smile and his voice were warm.

One by one, everyone around the table raised their glass. Heidi. Logan. Andy. Haru. Qi (begrudgingly).

And last of all, right by her side, Wis.

They all drank and laughed and went back to chatting amongst themselves.

Except Wis. She simply put her glass down and turned to Grace, all the warmth of the room reflected in her eyes. She lifted a gentle hand to Grace’s cheek and leaned in.

It was so very warm.

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

Grace woke up slowly. Pleasantly. A nice change of pace from forced wake-ups and diligently-set alarms.

She curled tighter into her blankets, trying to hold the warmth in her stomach inside just a little longer. She stole a glance at Wis’s last letter on her nightstand.

I still miss you.

Her chest ached as the warmth faded. She sighed. Well, that was that.

She got up, washed up, and changed, then sat down at her desk to pen her reply.

Wis,

I miss you too. Last night I

She froze. What the hell? Why would she write that down?! “Last night I dreamed that you kissed me”? “Last night I realized I missed you more than anything”? “Last night I figured my chances of seeing you again are even slimmer now”? Well, she could salvage it with something more innocuous…

I miss you too. Last night I dreamed I was back in Sandrock and we were holding that party I was talking about. Don’t remember all the details, but I knew I was really happy.

Heh, funny you mentioned Qi. We’ve been getting his reports on the regular nowadays to assess the area as time goes on. And they are LONG. Like “I don’t even know how he’s typing all this through the telegraph” long. Poor telegrapher’s gotta work in shifts to get the whole thing down. And then we’ve got a committee that simplifies what he gives us. And then another committee goes in and simplifies THAT before it gets to my bosses.

But anyway, it looks like the gist of it is that the region’s pretty non-hazardous now. Y’know, since the pest removal and all the broken relics were so effective. Unfortunately…that means I probably won’t get another assignment for the Sandrock region anytime soon. Unless one of you guys starts wrecking the whole place again, I dunno. (Please do not do that.)

Kinda sucks, but at least we can still keep in touch this way. Maybe that’s why I dreamt about you guys last night. Hope you get the tree problem sorted. You guys always find a way.

Grace

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

Grace,

Huh. Strange coincidence. I dreamed about you being back too. We were just hanging out at the bar like usual. Think I ordered my usual? Can’t remember. The kitchen wasn’t on fire, so I guess it was a good day!

And yeah, we did get the tree problem sorted…hopefully. We did end up finding some new algae machines in there, so we’re trying those out. Fingers crossed. Didn’t get any notes for you, though. Sorry. There were some leftover Geeglers in there, and they were not friendly. Apparently Larry’s no longer the boss. Ah well. Guess we have something to do when you get back. And you WILL be back some day. I know it. I’ll be waiting. :)

Wis

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

Wis opened up her mailbox and shuffled through the usual junk mail.

Nothing from Grace.

She sighed. “3 weeks…”

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

Hey Wis,

Sorry it’s been so long since I last wrote. I’ve just been sooo busy lately. Wish I could give you more details, but…you know. I’ve hardly had any energy left after I come home at night. I just take a quick shower and collapse into bed.

But anyways, how’ve you been? I’m sure there’s plenty of exciting new things going on in Sandrock. Fill me in!

Grace

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

Grace,

You doing okay? You don’t need to tell me all the details, but still. Letters are still kinda slow even with express postage, but if you’re ever having a bad day/week/whatever, you can talk to me.

Not sure if you have any friends over in Atara, but maybe you should take some time off and hang out with them. Take a walk. Go to a nice restaurant. Just get your head away from work for a bit, y’know? Then you can come back at it with fresh eyes.

You’re strong, I know, but don’t forget to take care of yourself.

Wis

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

Wis,

It kinda slipped my mind when we were at the station, but I wanted to give you the photo I included with this letter. It’s me with my old partner, Cookie. We were still in training then. He was such a good boy. Did a lot of early missions with me.

But…on one mission…I lost him. I’ll spare you the details, but it hit me hard. Still does, really.

Ever since then, I’ve kinda kept people at an arm’s length. Part of the job, I guess. I interviewed a bunch of new archeologist recruits the other day, and they all came in with such high hopes in their eyes… I just dunno how to tell them what it’s really like here. I have some friends, not a whole lot outside the archeology field. We hang out sometimes and it’s fun, but I still feel the struggle to connect sometimes. You’re the first person in a good long while to really get to know me.

Sorry for unloading all of that onto you so suddenly. I’m fine, though. Really. Although…a little PTO isn’t a bad idea.

Grace

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

Grace,

I’m so sorry about Cookie… I’m sure he was every bit as good as he looks. Since you’re giving this to me, I figured I should return the favor. Hopefully it won’t get lost in the mail…

And I understand. Making real, true friends is hard. I never really made any good friends at the Builder’s Academy either. Though one of them ended up saving my skin when my old workshop closed down. So even distant friends can be important. Can’t imagine what it’s like in your shoes.

If nothing else, at least, you have me. And again, if you’re ever feeling pressed, you can talk to me. Always.

Wis

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

Grace laid on her bed, staring at the photo in her hand in the dim lamplight.

It was Wis sitting on the ground outside her front door, cradling a grumpy-looking Banjo in her lap with a grin on her face, while Nemo jumped up excitedly next to her.

A faint smile rose on Grace’s lips. It’d been so long since she’d last seen Wis. Well, outside her dreams, that is.

Her eyes grew heavy. Another long day. She’d get up to tuck this somewhere safe…right after…she gave her eyes…a quick rest…

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

Sunsets were always better in the desert. Not only was the sky more colorful, but the beautiful reds and oranges of the sands made it all pop that much more.

Grace breathed in a deep lungful of fresh, crisp air, letting it out as a content sigh. This was her favorite time of day.

She waved goodbye to Owen and set out towards the train station. For home.

She glanced over to the distant mountain range as she crossed the tracks. The sun was just starting to sink behind the tallest peak. Beautiful.

But not as beautiful as…

An excited barking got her attention. She looked back down again to see Nemo running up to her.

“Hi, Nemo!” she giggled as he yipped and ran circles around her legs. “Is Wisty not playing with you? Aw, she’s no fun…”

“Just give me a second…” came a groan from the workshop yard. “Don’t steal my doggy, Grace…”

“Too late!” Grace chimed, leaning down to give Nemo a well-deserved scratch. “He’s mine now.”

“Well, doggone it,” Wis said, finally popping up from whatever machine she was working at. “My girlfriend dognapped my dog. I can’t believe it. I’m really in the doghouse now. Ohhh nooo.”

Grace couldn’t help but laugh at the stupid look on Wis’s face as she made her way out to her and Nemo.

“Well, even if Nemo’s yours…” Wis murmured as she drew closer. “You’re still mine.”

Grace felt the gentlest peck on her cheek.

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

Grace,

Everything okay? It’s been a while since I heard from you. Work’s probably been super busy for you. Just give me a quick check up reply when you next get the chance. No biggie.

Wis

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

Grace,

Hey, not sure you saw my last letter… Sorry about this if you did. I’m just a bit antsier about getting a reply since your last letter. Hope you’re still okay.

Wis

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

Grace,

It’s been about a month now… I’m getting kind of worried now. I know field work is dangerous, so not getting anything from you has me wondering if you’re still alive… You don’t need to send an essay, just…a sign? Just a “hi”? Even a blank piece of paper in an envelope? Anything so I can at least make sure you’re still around.

Wis

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

Hey Wis,

I’m really sorry about the wait. I’m still alive and kicking, don’t you worry. Work’s just been exhausting still. I can’t really make the time to sit down and write. We’ve been looking into a whole slew of relics around the Alliance lately. Lots of data crunching. I’m still doing fine, I promise. Just reading your words is so comforting to me. But what’s new with you? I’m sure at this point, I probably won’t even be able to recognize Sandrock if I saw it! You guys are just so involved! Still a TBD on a return date…

Grace

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

You know, Grace…

Somehow I feel like it’s easier for me to tell when you’re being dishonest when it’s through writing. Dunno why. Maybe it’s because I can read it over again as much as I need to and take all the time I need to craft an answer.

You don’t need to sugarcoat things for me, okay? You never did back then. Why start now? I don’t know if it’s because you don’t want me to worry or you don’t want to talk about it, but I want to hear it. Whatever it is.

I hope that I’m not your only source of comfort right now, but if I am…then let me be that. I’ll be here for you as much as I can. I promise.

Wis

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

Grace sat at her desk, a blank sheet of paper in front of her, reading Wis’s letter over and over and over again. Wis wasn’t here. She was a hundred miles away.

So why could Grace feel her eyes boring straight into her head?

She stared at the blank page on the table. It almost felt like it was mocking her. Or maybe that was the sleep deprivation talking.

Grace groaned. She’d finally carved out a good hour to write back to Wis, and here she was with nothing to say. Why oh why did Wis always have to hit her hardest when Grace was weakest?

She really is good at this, a distant part of Grace’s mind hummed.

Grace put her head on the desk, cushioning it with her arms. She stared at the small desk clock nearby as her designated writing hour slowly tick, tick, ticked away…until it was over. And she had nothing to show for it.

She let out a sigh and got up, rubbing her eyes. Time for a shower. She felt filthy. Maybe she could handle this tomorrow…

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

Grace watched out the window as the train pulled to a stop. Good ol’ Sandrock. Same as ever, it seemed. Somehow, though, there was a different kind of energy to the place. Alive. Crackling with potential. She let the soaring feeling in her heart take hold. She could do that now. Let loose how she really felt. At that thought, she felt her pulse start to race. How she really felt…

As soon as the door opened, she bolted out and across the tracks. Fresh Pines was still lively as ever, machines churning away and generator humming. And of course, there was Wisteria, busy as ever. She was tending to the garden patch next to her front door, her back to Grace as she overturned the dirt. Looked like she had some new seeds coming in.

Grace felt her pulse thudding in her ears. She swallowed and put on a playful smile. “Hey.”

Wis looked up from her gardening, staring blankly at Grace over her shoulder.

Grace snorted. “Missed me, Wisty?”

Wis only continued to stare. Grace’s smile fell. She should’ve laughed or smiled or…something.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Grace’s stomach dropped. “Huh? Um…oh, are you doing a bit…? Heh heh, good one…” she laughed with a shaky smile.

Wis still didn’t react. “Who are you?”

“I’m–I–it’s…me. It’s Grace.” Icy fear ran through her veins.

Wis’s eyes bore into Grace’s. Why did they look so dull…?

“…Liar.”

She turned back to her digging.

Grace suddenly felt nauseous. She reached out for her, only to see her hands were trembling.

“Wis…Wisteria…I promise, it’s me. It’s really me! N-no more secrets this time, I’m done with—!” She let out a startled yelp. Just as she had gotten close enough to place a hand on Wis’s shoulder, she’d gotten too close to the front door. In the glass of the windowpane, her reflection stared back at her.

Or at least, what was left of it.

A blank face, framed with her blonde hair.

Liar.

A horrid stench filled Grace’s nostrils. She lurched as the nausea got worse. She knew that smell from anywhere. It was a corpse. But where?

Grace tore her eyes away from the glass and looked around. It wasn’t long before she found the source.

Right under Wis’s shovel.

A partially unearthed body.

With Grace’s face.

Decaying and decrepit.

Liar. Liar.

She suddenly heard sniffling. Her eyes darted up to Wis. She was shaking with quiet sobs, head against one arm leaning against the wall of the house, her other hand clutching her chest.

Grace felt her heart wrench. She tried to reach for Wis again. “Wisty…Wisty, no…I-I’m here, it’s okay, I—” Her throat suddenly closed up. As if something was choking her. She grabbed at her neck, trying desperately to free it. But it was in vain. Nothing was there.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

Tears squeezed out of Grace’s eyes as she flailed about uselessly. She wanted Wisty’s tears to stop. She wanted to hold her until everything was okay. She wanted to spill everything that she kept sealed inside her for so, so long. She wanted her to know everything. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted to feel known. She wanted—

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

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Grace jolted awake with a startled gasp. Her head was pounding. She slammed her hand down on her alarm clock.

Better. But not by much.

She reached a tentative hand up to her neck. Nothing was there.

She stared blankly at a spot on her blanket, trying to slow her breathing down. Swallowing, her eyes found the blank sheet of paper still on her desk, Wis’s letter sitting next to it.

She threw the blankets off and yanked out her desk chair. Her grip on the pen was tight enough to make her knuckles turn white. She forced the tip to the page. A spot of ink pooled under where it met the paper. She willed her hand to move.

Wisteria,

Her heart was pounding. What should she say? What was the best thing she could say? What could get her the info she needed in this scenario? How could she talk her way out of this? What did her handbook say? Remember your training, remember what they told you—

…

What do I really want to say…?

…

Wisteria,

I love you

There was a sharp knock at the door. A message slid under the crack.

Briefing at 1100

Grace’s mouth twisted into a grimace. The next mission. What a day to get all the details finally sorted. She flicked open her lighter to dispose of the message. As the slip burned to ashes, her mind wandered to the other paper sitting so innocently on her desk. She sighed. It was 1030. She’d have to finish it later.

After the last remnants of the paper were flicked away, Grace tucked the unfinished letter away between some books.

As she plodded to the briefing room along the barren hallways of HQ, she tried to push down the growing unease in her gut.

She couldn’t.

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

Mission objectives: Investigate increasingly suspicious activity in the Northern Eufaula region. Duvosian involvement suspected. Capture or eliminate any Duvosian spies or military entities. Oversee restabilization in the aftermath.

Risk: Potentially life-threatening.

Start date: Tomorrow, 1200 hours. Move to Northern Eufaula base. Await further orders.

Grace was back to staring at the page on her desk, uneasier than ever.

I love you.

She wanted to say it. She really, truly did. She wanted Wis to know. Even if she didn’t love her back. But now…

I love you.

Now she was dumping this new mission onto her, too. Her life was on the line. Whatever she wrote here could be her last words to her.

I love you.

Did she want her last words to be that big of a bombshell? Throw Wis into perpetual uncertainty while the mission happened? Not even sure if Grace was alive or dead?

I love you.

Make the grief even worse…?

Grace took a deep breath. The last thing she needed on a dangerous mission was knowing that Wis was worried for her. But either way, Wis would be worried. There was no way for Grace to reach her from out there. She couldn’t control that.

But she could control something else. So she was going to make a gambit. Gamble on Wis’s worry overtaking her reason for the briefest moment. Her eyes would gloss over the finer details. And Grace could veil the truth that she desperately wanted to share.

She tossed the old letter and got a fresh sheet.

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

Wisteria,

I’ve got my next assignment.

Let it be known that it’s a big one. Life’s on the line.

Orders are orders, though.

Very soon, I’ll be heading out.

Even if everything goes according to plan, it’s dicey.

You might be wondering if I can ever get back to Sandrock now.

Once this is over, I’ll do my best to get there. I’m not 100% confident, though.

Until then.

Grace

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

Grace.

Even when you tell me your deepest secrets, you still talk in riddles.

I love you too, alright?

Maybe it’s not my place to pry, and I know I can’t get all the details, but I still just…don’t understand you sometimes. You told me that you wanted a deeper connection that you couldn’t get on the job. That  kind of connection is made when you’re vulnerable with each other. You see each other at your weakest and your worst and you choose to keep pushing forward, side by side. In spite of everything. In spite of each other.

I’ve felt that with you sometimes. We’ve come so close to really being at the level you really wish for. When you talked to me about Cookie, I felt it. And so did you, I wager. But even so…you still want to keep a part of you sealed away.

Are you scared? Are you scared of me? Are you scared of yourself? I don’t know what else could be holding you back as much as you have.

I’m sorry if I’m being overbearing. Part of it’s because I’m worried. You’re the most capable and competent person I’ve ever met. But you’re still human, at the end of the day.

The other part of it is because I can see that this is something you want. More than archeology, more than the awards. More than anything.

You want to be you.

Really, truly you.

And I love you.

The real, true you.

Even the parts I have yet to see or learn about.

I have no idea if this’ll make it to you. You’ve probably already been out there for a while by the time I got your letter. But I wanted to get that off my chest. And to let you know that I’m still waiting for you here. All of us are (yes, even Qi. He’s just a dingus about it).

Stay safe. Please. I believe in you, even if you don’t.

And when you come back to Sandrock, we can talk. For real.

Love,

Wisteria

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

Wis opened up her mailbox. Only one thing in there today. She took it out, looking at the envelope to see…her own handwriting? And it was addressed to Grace…

Her heart froze.

Clutching the letter tightly, she ran off to find Jasmine. Fresh Pines was the last stop on the mail route, so she should be heading back to Construction Junction…

“Jazz! Hey, Jazz!” Wis called as she spotted Jasmine skipping after Macchiato, who probably caught wind of someone cooking something good. She stopped in her tracks and beamed up at Wis.

“Hey, Miss Wis! What’s up?”

“Jazz, do you know what happened to this letter?” Wis held out the letter in her hands, trying not to clench too hard and wrinkle it.

“Oh…” Jasmine hummed with a finger on her chin. “Yeah, the Atara Post Office said that there wasn’t anyone named Grace at that address. So they put the big ‘Return to Sender’ stamp on it.”

Wis suddenly felt a little dizzy. “Oh. I see…”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Jasmine exclaimed. “Miss Grace was real! We really knew her!”

“Yeah, w-we did…”

“Maybe she just changed her address? Forgot to tell all of us, though. Ma’s getting a little worried.”

“Mm-hmm…”

“But I’m sure she’ll tell us real soon, Miss Wis!” she shouted, loud enough to give Wis a jolt. “She’s still got our addresses, so she’ll probably write soon!”

Wis let out a chuckle. “You’re right. I hope so. Thanks, Jazz.”

“You’re welcome! See ya!” Jasmine replied, before running off to catch up with Macchiato.

Standing alone in the square, Wis sighed and looked down at the unsent letter. She remembered the night she wrote it, frustrated and exhausted. She’d tossed out at least 10 different versions before this one. Some were too angry. Others too self-pitying. Others too long-winded. Even now, she had doubts if this was really what she wanted to say.

Regardless, though, there was one sentiment she knew to be entirely true, no matter how she shouted or spat or sobbed it.

I love you too.

She sighed again and headed back home. She tucked the letter away on her desk under a large stack of other papers.

Then she headed out to start her workday. But all the while, her mind stirred, always coming back to one question:

Was it better or worse that it never reached her?

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

Atara Times

Northern Eufaula Espionage Plans Foiled! Duvos Spies Captured!

Some time ago, the Northern Eufaula Development Plan jumped into full swing, but not without its share of complications. In an incredible twist of events, an investigation by the Alliance Council uncovered that some of the problems were in fact part of a deliberate campaign of disruption.

Who is this dastardly foe? Well, let's ask one simple question. If the Northern Development Plan is to fail, who is to gain? None other than the Duvos Empire!

How did this happen? In order to counter the Duvos activities, Alliance Central Intelligence carried out Operation Weeding. This operation quickly and efficiently identified and eliminated the Duvos infiltration, and effectively restored order to the Northern Development Plan once again. Currently, the plan as already initiated three settlements across the Northern Eufaula, next to the Duvos border.

Unfortunately, three Alliance operatives' lives were lost in the process. The youngest of them was a young woman in her twenties. She had achieved outstanding military achievements throughout her career and had made a lasting impact on the safety of the Free Cities. We shall never know the names of these brave heroes, but we, all of us, owe them our safety.

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

There was a knock at the door.

Wis didn’t move.

The knocking came back.

“Wisty?” It was Heidi. “Everythin’...well, I don’t suppose anythin’s alright…”

Wis stared at a knot in the wood floor.

“I’m comin’ in, okay? Got some fresh grub from the Blue Moon…”

The door creaked open. Sunlight spilled in.

Wis pulled the blankets over her head.

“Wisty…”

…

“I, um… I asked Trudy if she could get any info, but the Alliance ain’t talkin’… as we’d expect from military types, I guess…”

…

“Uh, technically speakin’…there could’ve been a lot of twenty-somethin’ ladies out there. I don’t wanna jump to conclusions either way, of course, but still…”

…

“I’m still holdin’ out hope. But…I know it’s hard. I know how much you cared about her.”

A tear slipped out of Wis’s eye.

“…I still got your back, Wisty. No matter what.”

Wis choked on a sob. More and more tears flooded out of her eyes. She felt Heidi hug her from outside the blanket, whispering soothing words.

There in the dark, she shook. Left to choke on words that would never be heard. Left to cling to hope that she didn’t hold.

Left to feel a love too late to be received.

A/N: Thanks for reading! There'll be one last part after this.

And icymi, I posted a quick status update on Builder, Researcher, Rooftop, if you've been following that! (psst...it has some sneak peeks of act 2)

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[revlyncox]

Resilience and Repair

For both Unitarian Universalist and Jewish congregations beginning again for a new year, practices such as truth telling, accountability, mutual care, contemplative practice, and organizing for justice reconnect us with each other, our ground of being, and our values. This fall, we come together after the hottest summer on record, leading us to renew our commitment to the planet as well. The spiritual themes of return and renewal for UU and Jewish communities at this time of year resonate with the three aspects of climate resilience: mitigation, adaptation, and justice. This sermon was written by the Rev. Lyn Cox and delivered to The Unitarian Society in East Brunswick, NJ, on September 17, 2023.

I live in a neighborhood that is abundant with tall, mature trees, set into rolling hills and hollows. Most of the homes were built in the middle of the twentieth century, new enough to welcome diversity, old enough that our neighborhood is run by the city and not by a homeowners association or gated community corporation. 

Forested back yards mean that the sunlight is in the front yard, where the road creates a clearing, and so those of us who grow vegetables have our gardens in the front. I have gotten to know the other gardeners on my street, and I know the neighbors who walk their dogs or take their fitness walks past me when I’m out in the yard. We trade excess tomatoes and basil in the summer, and exchange seeds along with our Purim mishloach manot baskets of hamantaschen cookies in the spring. We share stories about which crops are growing better or worse than they used to, trying to adjust what we plant and when to the way the changing climate affects our little hillside. 

Our neighborhood’s age also means we have elevated power lines, the kind that are easily brought down by falling trees. It is not at all uncommon for us to lose power in a thunderstorm or windstorm or after a heavy snow. Messages on the neighborhood email list keep track of who has power, who has a fireplace with a kettle where neighbors can come warm up their coffee, who has ice and a cooler, and which café is open for people to come and charge their phones. I wouldn’t say we have completely overcome the problem of isolation and individualism in American life, but there are glimmers of interdependence. 

September means that, on sunny days, more walkers are taking advantage of the cool air and stopping for conversations while I’m trying to reduce the chaos that the garden has become. It means the occasional extra squash shows up on our doorstep. And it means hurricane season, when we are more likely to get one of those storms. So, in the fall, we are called together in community, drawn by the patterns of sun and rain to remember that people need one another. And, in these times of increasingly frequent extreme weather events, we know that we need one another more than ever. 

What we are learning, at least on a small scale, is climate adaptation, which is part of climate resilience. The Union of Concerned Scientists says:

Climate resilience is about successfully coping with and managing the impacts of climate change while preventing those impacts from growing worse. A climate resilient society would be low-carbon and equipped to deal with the realities of a warmer world. (They continue)

There’s only one real way to achieve climate resilience: cut the heat-trapping emissions that drive climate change while adapting to the changes that are unavoidable–and to do so in ways that make the world more equitable and just, not less. 

The Union of Concerned Scientists describes three aspects of climate resilience: mitigation, adaptation, and justice. Mitigation means working to slow down the pace of climate change. Adaptation means “adjusting the ways we live, work, and play” so that we can care for one another given the realities that are already here. Justice means prioritizing the needs and the agency of those among us who face the greatest harm from climate change, such as people of color, people living in poverty, people with disabilities, seniors, and young children. 

The three aspects of climate mitigation, climate adaptation, and climate justice mirror some of the religious themes we lift up in UU communities and some of the themes lifted up in Jewish communities as we renew the liturgical year in the fall. In UU communities, we have practices of honesty, assessment, and repair that mirror the mitigation aspect of climate resilience. We have spiritual and community practices of grounding and transformation to keep us in relationship with each other and with the Spirit of Life, and these resonate with the adaptation aspect of climate resilience. In UU communities, we have strategies and practices that move us toward equity, healing, and liberation; these are connected with the justice aspect of climate resilience. 

Meanwhile, the Jewish-UU’s among us and our Jewish friends, family, and neighbors observing the High Holidays may be reflecting on teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedakah; sometimes translated as turning or repentance, spiritual practice or prayer, and righteousness or justice. All three are understood to be practices that are both individual and communal. Jewish environmental activists are quick to point out the relevance of teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedakah for facing up to the realities of climate change; for finding energy and hope in spiritual community for the work ahead; and taking action to care for each other and the earth so that all may thrive. [Dayenu: A Jewish Call to Climate Action is one place to start if you are interested in organizing for the planet from a Jewish perspective.]

If those definitions of teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedakah went by too fast, don’t worry, I will come back to them. My point here is that mitigation, adaptation, and justice–the three aspects of climate resilience–have spiritual and religious resonance, especially this time of year. 

First, let’s talk about mitigation. This is the first thing people usually think of with respect to climate action. This is the calling that is drawing some of our folks to public witness today, and we thank them for giving voice to this imperative. Nationally, we must fund the scientific research that gives us reliable data, we need to pay attention to that data, and change our policies and economic practices accordingly. As I just quoted from the Union of Concerned Scientists, switching from coal and gas to renewable energy is essential. Investing in clean and convenient public transit is essential. I am sure you are familiar with the whole menu of policy changes that go along with climate mitigation. 

For UU’s, climate mitigation is an aspect of our practice of speaking the truth in love. In our environmental consciousness, we take stock of what is actually happening with the climate and what is actually happening with strategies for fossil fuel elimination, we acknowledge harm, and we begin to put strategies in place that are within our power to do. 

Facing up to the truth is both spiritual and embodied. Becoming awake to reality, and being able to hold that reality without running to illusion or distraction, are some of the gifts of meditation. It takes strength of mind, heart, and soul to acknowledge truth and harm, and to conjure the hope and imagination necessary to turn toward change. 

On the practical side, our mitigation strategies are both local and global. Locally, we can use green energy when we have the opportunity. We can put time and talent and treasure into maintaining the building for maximum fuel efficiency. Your flexibility with remote work for your Minister, Music Director, and Administrator is also an aspect of mitigating climate harm. In the wider world, working with our denominational partners such as UU Faith Action, UU the Vote, and Side With Love, we harness our collective power to advocate for just, equitable, and sustainable state, national, and international policy. 

In Jewish communities around the High Holidays, making teshuvah, turning toward community and right relationship and away from harm, is one of the three points of emphasis. Teshuvah sometimes gets translated as “repentance,” and it’s important to understand that that word has different resonance in the Jewish tradition than it does in the Christian-dominated general understanding. 

Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg is the author of this year’s UUA Common Read, On Repentance and Repair: Making Amends in an Unapologetic World. Drawing on the twelfth-century Jewish philosopher Maimonides, Ruttenberg describes the phases of teshuva and reads them through a trauma-informed lens. She writes that teshuva includes confession, starting to change, making amends, delivering an apology, and making a different choice in the future. It’s a relational process, not performative. 

The confession aspect, where we acknowledge the harm we have caused, is about basing our actions in truth. In our personal relationships and in our relationship with the earth, we need truth before we can begin repair. Teshuvah as applied to climate resilience means acknowledging what humans have done to the planet and turning toward change. 

During the High Holidays, Jewish communities listen to the sound of the shofar, a wind instrument made from a ram’s horn. The sound wakes up the people and calls them to turn again toward truth, connection, and right action. When I go to interfaith public witness events, it is not uncommon for my Jewish colleagues to bring a shofar. Sometimes we all need a signal that it is time to rally, time to rise, time to come together for transformation. Yet the sound of the shofar doesn’t last forever. At some point, the musician takes a breath. As we continue  teshuva, turning toward change, we add the phase of deepening our connections and adapting to life in right relationship. 

The second part of climate resilience, adaptation, is about how we invest in our communities and change the ways we live, work, and play, given the reality that climate change is here. Once again, the action steps available are individual, local, and global; with corresponding needs for institutional connection and collective organizing. We can start with something achievable on a smaller scale like planting trees in areas with a lot of asphalt to reduce extreme heat. Out in our cities and towns and statewide, we can advocate for investments in the electrical grid so that we have fewer power outages during extreme weather. Our organizing partners at the UUA and UU Faith Action New Jersey and experts like the Union of Concerned Scientists can help us to focus our work on the concrete, big-picture parts of adaptation. 

That being said, the adaptation that weaves into climate resilience is more than technical solutions and policy platforms. It is a question of how we care for each other and keep each other as safe as we can given the changes that are already taking place in a warming climate. We invoke the attitude of the two siblings in this morning’s Time for All Ages story, holding the wellbeing of others in our thoughts and letting a sense of abundance infuse our encounters with others. Adaptation means we must connect more deeply and truly and broadly than we have before, because we understand our interdependence more thoroughly than we ever have before. 

Connection and interdependence are theological words for us as Unitarian Universalists. Climate resilience is a conversation that belongs in spiritual community. In our songs, and our art, and our fellowship, and our learning, we are a people of imagination. We hold up a vision for a better world, and we do our best to create a foretaste of that better world among us. Mutual care and the practices of centering and connection that help us to keep that care flowing are some of the core purposes of a congregation. 

Maintaining the energy for life, let alone for climate action, requires that we also make time for love, for art, for awe and wonder. Anger and fear are real, and we need to acknowledge those feelings and cope with them, and also have room for the whole range of human experience so that we don’t burn out. [Joanna Macy is a Buddhist and Deep Ecology scholar who has written about this extensively. You can also check out the book Climate Resilience by Kylie Flanagan, which contains interviews with 39 climate leaders.] The practices of connection–connection with each other and with the ground of being–enliven our days and help us to stay on the path to a just and sustainable world. For people who pray, prayer might do the same. Yoga, hiking, creating fiber art, or singing are other practices that we can think of as spiritual. They are ways of being fully present, and can be gateways to understanding ourselves as part of something larger than ourselves. 

In Jewish community, this point resonates with tefillah, practices of prayer and spiritual connection. The ways of being that help people to feel rooted in their community and tradition, the habits that help people to find serenity and comfort in their higher power, the experiences that invoke a sense of awe and wonder, these bring strength to the individual and to the whole. People who are grounded and connected are better able to keep their commitments and to act in congruence with their values. Jewish climate activists suggest that tefillah encompasses not only formal prayer, but also everyday practices that show gratitude for the abundance with which we have been entrusted and that sanctify our interdependence with the earth. These practices can include things like composting, growing native plants, and using a rain barrel, especially if they are practices learned and shared in community. [If you are part of the Jewish community and interested in spiritual connections between people and the planet, check out Adamah, an organization that does classes, camps, and retreats.] An orientation of mindfulness can be part of adaptation and climate resilience. 

Even as we aggressively cut emissions, we know that it will take decades to mitigate the carbon pollution that is already here, and so we must adapt to a changing climate. There are community and public policy strategies for the practical parts of adaptation, and we will pursue those in our congregations, neighborhoods, and advocacy organizations. Yet we also need to remember that adaptation requires flexibility and cooperation. It is spiritual work, and we can support our ability to adapt with individual and collective spiritual practice. 

The third aspect of climate resilience is climate justice. We are aware that the people who have contributed the least to global warming are the people who are most at risk from its effects. In our local communities, we see this when fossil fuel plants and trash incinerators are located near the homes of marginalized people. We see it when the U.S. military shirks its responsibility to clean up shipyards and testing sites where they have left toxic waste around low income communities and communities of color. We see it when an extreme weather disaster is imminent and there is no credible plan to evacuate people with disabilities or low-income people without cars. Climate change affects everyone, and the harm falls disproportionately on those with the least privilege. 

Climate justice, therefore, prioritizes the needs and the agency of communities that have been marginalized as we make plans for mitigation and adaptation. As Unitarian Universalists, whether we approach describing ourselves from the perspective of the eight principles or from the perspective of the values and covenant in the proposed Article II revision, our UU movement has the pursuit of justice written into its DNA. Whether climate justice should be included among our concerns is not really a question. What we do need to consider is how we go about that work, and how we see the connections between other issues and climate justice. Advocacy for policies that keep people housed and protected from extreme weather is climate justice. Agricultural policy that dismantles institutional racism against farmers who are Black, Indigenous, and People of Color is part of climate justice. When we work with coalitions and community partners, and when we heed the leaders of organizations representing groups of people who are most affected by a given issue, we are more likely to notice the connections and to be part of the transformation toward a just, equitable, and sustainable world. 

Similarly, the UU-Jewish members among us and our Jewish family and friends add tzedakah to teshuva and tefilla as one of the three watch words for the High Holidays. Tzedakah can be translated as philanthropy or charity. Many families have a tzedakah box where children can put coins or a percentage of their allowance to donate to a worthy cause. But, more literally, tzedakah means justice or righteousness. [Aviya Kushner has an interesting exploration of this word in The Forward.] In Jewish wisdom, material support for those in need is about a realignment of resources. Tzedakah, righteous action, is an ethical obligation, not a spontaneous whim of pity or goodwill. So, Jewish activists organizing for equitable transit planning and clean air in low income communities are also performing acts of justice and righteousness; they are also doing tzedaka. [T'ruah is a Jewish organization doing human rights work, related to climate justice insofar as everything is related to the climate. Their name comes from one of the sounds of the shofar.]

As the autumn brings us together with a combination of weather patterns and liturgical traditions, we are reminded once again that we are part of something larger than ourselves. We are in a community of communities, interdependent with other people and the planet and the universe as a whole. As Unitarian Universalists, the Ingathering season reminds us of practices like speaking the truth in love, accepting accountability, caring for our neighbors in concrete ways, committing to contemplative practices that help us to adapt, and organizing for justice. Meanwhile, our Jewish neighbors are applying teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedakah to their own ethical commitments as they observe the High Holidays. And people of all faiths and no faith are waking up to the possibilities of climate resilience, combining the work of mitigation, adaptation, and justice. 

Climate resilience is broad and complex. We could be overwhelmed by all of the possibilities and connections, but the good news is that there are a number of places to start. Each one of us is called to accept our gifts and to use them in the spirit of love, and we each have a unique way of responding to that call. Some are drawn to mutual care, some to policy advocacy, some to public witness, some to building coalitions and community organizing, some to creating the moments of beauty and reflection that help sustain the community. It is a new year, time to begin again. The way you travel the path ahead may be uniquely your own. Yet let us travel together as we move toward repairing the world with sustainability, care, mindfulness, and justice. 

May it be so. 

[thecandywrites]

Monster March 2023 Day 9- Centuar

If The Shoe Fits- Part 2

Lets get complicated.

Thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2023 promptlist.

Part 2

Friendly Neighbors. 

The next day, Lucas could hear his boys coming down the road and only laugh as he could guess what they were about to announce. 

“Dad!” Both boys said when they burst into the house. 

“Yeah?” He asked. 

“The girls were in school!” They both said. 

“And their brother?” Lucas laughed. 

“Oh, yeah, he was there too.” Nick waived off dismissively because just about every girl in their class and their grade had a crush on Avery. 

“And?” Lucas asked. 

“And we were invited to their house to play and like, every guy tried to date them but they refused all the offers as they simply wanted to settle into their new house. And guess what house they have? The big one! The mansion! They must be super rich to afford to build it.” Nick announced. 

“Well first off, any money that they do or don’t have is none of our business. Second off. Good for them to have enough of it to build the house to begin with. Third off, if you’re really interested in them, don’t be among those who flood those girls with romantic interest. If anything, just try to be just friendly. You’ll get a lot farther with just being those girls’ friends.” Lucas encouraged. 

“But I want Adelide to be my girlfriend!” Aiden whined. 

“Try being her friend first. Ok?” Lucas urged them before his cell phone chimed. 

‘Hi Lucas, this is Maddison Allbright, I invited your boys over to play on the playground equipment. They’re more than welcome to come anytime- as long as you’re ok with them coming over too. And when you would have a free night, I would love to have your family over for dinner or something.’ Maddison texted as Lucas smiled giddily as he stirred dinner on the stove. 

‘They just told me about the invitation. That sounds great, just say when and where and we’ll be there Addie.’ Lucas texted back. 

‘How about this Sunday night? At 6. I think you know the address.’ She texted. 

‘I do. We’ll be there. Can’t wait.’ Lucas smiled excitedly as his tail whooshed behind him happily. 

‘Us either, do you have any dietary restrictions?’ Maddison texted thoughtfully. 

‘Nope, we’ll eat just about anything. Is there anything you can bring?’ He asked. 

‘How about dessert? We don’t have any dietary restrictions either so whatever you’d like.’ Maddison offered. 

‘Apple pie it is.’ Lucas offered. 

‘Perfect.’ Maddison responded. 

Everyday after that though, his boys seemed to come home with new “news” about Maddison’s kids. How all of them were in gymnastics and martial arts. How their dad died right as the house was getting demolished. But they decided to rebuild the house anyway. And how all of their friends and family came together to help, especially with Maddison learning she was pregnant at about the same time. And how she nearly lost the baby to grief, but she, by a miracle, managed to keep it, since it was another baby boy. Who Maddison was going to name after their late father- Adrian. And how she was only 4 months away from delivering him. But that it was their father’s life insurance policy that helped build such a big and nice house in the first place and that they would own it outright. Maddison’s parents were moving into one of the other nearby houses that was also getting fixed up. But that they actually didn’t “come from money”. Which Lucas could have told them that. He recalled Maddison’s father being in construction. But he wondered if perhaps Maddison married into a little bit of it anyway. But otherwise, they were middle class just like everyone else. Which made the boys and Lucas feel less intimidated by the place and that it had a gate and a fence to keep their many pets in the yard. 

Lucas must have made a dozen apple pies, trying to make the perfect apple pie just for the dinner. The crust had to be perfectly flaky, the apples needed to be perfectly sliced and seasoned. And it had to be pretty, because Maddison and her family deserved to eat not just a great pie, but a great tasting one too. 

He had to keep his boys from actually running over there. Because it wasn’t a long walk. Only a few minutes as he carefully had the pie in a carry case. The boys practically trotted in place, trying to get there faster, always sneaking peeks at the house in question through the other trees around the area. 

But then they got to the gate and as much as Lucas felt like he knew what this place was and should be, somehow with the new fence and gate- it was somehow brand new before he pressed the call button on the keypad. 

“Come on in guys.” Came Maddison’s answer, because there was a camera set up at the keypad before the gates opened themselves to let them in and then close once they were fully inside. 

Now that this driveway was properly paved, he noticed that there were shrubs on either side of the driveway, making it, if anything idealistic and even more beautiful and now that they were in the fence, it was as if this place was put here right out of a better homes and gardens magazine. He was impressed when the doors were big and wide enough to let him in when Maddison opened the door. He was blown away with how accommodating the house was. It simply showed she kept every kind of person’s in mind when she built it. 

“Well come on in. Make yourselves at home.” Maddison invited before the other kids came downstairs, the girls with their hair all pretty from going to their temple of choice and one look at his boys and he felt resigned because those boys were about already chest deep into this puppy love they had both fallen into all week. 

And to his delight, her dining table had a special remote that would raise itself along with all the chairs to adjust to the height of the table so that they could all be around the table comfortably especially since the chairs themselves had special attachments to allow for quadrupeds too, which he and his boys really liked and appreciated. 

And sure enough, they had chicken enchiladas and Addie seemed to eat her body weight in mango salsa. It was some of the best chicken enchiladas he and his boys had ever had though. 

And to his utter delight, she had special, homemade marshmallows to go on the pie! He didn’t know such a thing could be done. But she had made like a vanilla, apple, cinnamon and caramel flavored marshmallows that melted over the pie when it was toasted in the oven to reheat it and with a scoop of vanilla ice cream - it had elevated his humble pie into something extraordinary and his boys hoovered the extra marshmallows as if they had never seen or heard of sweets before in their lives. But apparently the whole family had worked together to make them so Maddison and her family were happy they were so well liked. Especially when Alexandria had a gift for cooking. And not just regular cooking, like chef- cooking school kind of cooking. 

“So what kind of horses were you thinking of getting?” Lucas asked. 

“Oh, well, these guys still need lessons too. Have any suggestions?” Maddison asked. 

“Not Blathingtons.” Lucas and his boys all said in unison. 

“Oh? Why not?” Alex asked. 

“Overpriced for what is in all honesty- subpar lessons. They’re competitors. They like to use the fact that they’ve kept champions in their overpriced stables. But of course all the attention and all the money goes into the competitors and the horses they use for lessons just don’t really get the same care or attention. They’ve ruined more horses by pushing them too hard too fast than anything.” Lucas explained. 

“You could always learn to ride on us!” Aiden offered as Maddison’s jaw dropped as Lucas nearly choked on the pie. 

“Isn’t that…demeaning though?” Maddison asked carefully. 

“Nope! We give the other bipeds rides all the time.” Nick offered. 

“Are you sure?” Maddison asked Lucas. 

“Well, because horses have their own “language” so to speak, just beginning lessons on how to put on a saddle and how to sit in one and get used to using the various nonverbal cues is a good groundwork to start with.” Lucas offered. 

“Well then how much would you charge for such lessons?” Maddison asked. 

“They’d be free.” Nick offered. 

“Nick, I know you mean well, but if you’re good at something and providing a service, you should get paid for your time and effort and ability. Just like I could hire you to shovel the snow in my driveway or cut the grass. It’s still work and you should still get paid and compensated for it. I absolutely insist.” She gently countered. 

“Well the besides Blathingtons, the usual rate is a hundred a month for a weekly lessons.” Lucas offered. 

“Now that sounds more than fair.” Maddison nodded her agreement. 

But on Monday, Maddison got the text from her kids that they would riding Nick and Avery home so that they didn’t need to be picked up but were hoping to have snacks when they would get home which Maddison was happy to make and was happy to see Alex and Avery on Nick while Aiden had Adel on him, bareback of course. 

And then once they got to the porch, her kids used the porch’s handrail of the baluster as a step ladder to get down before they all came into the house to gather around the table and do their homework while eating from the trays of snacks while Maddison made dinner for her family and potentially three more guests as she slyly got a picture of the kids all around the table and sent i to Lucas and informed him that his kids were at least doing their homework and not to worry about them, just in case he was expecting for them to be home any time soon. 

‘Just let me know when they’ve outstayed their welcome and I’ll come and get them.’ Lucas offered. 

‘They’re always welcome. I’m just happy the kids are getting along. I think the kids are bonding pretty well over losing a parent and learning to live with the loss of them. I’ve spent a fortune in therapy since my husband’s death and your boys are doing more in just talking about it than their therapist has been. They’ve to a degree “normalized” it and I can tell my kids really appreciate the fact that they’re not alone in that respect. And while I am really sorry for Amber’s loss and the devastation that’s done to you and your family. This is exactly what my kids have needed since they’ve lost their dad. You’ve done a wonderful job raising such good and thoughtful and emotionally mature and sensitive boys. Especially at this age. I know it’s been hard on you and your family. But hopefully my kids will learn from yours how to deal and cope with it better than they have.’ Maddison texted as she wiped away her silent, but grateful tears. 

Lucas’ vision blurred as he looked at his phone and without any hesitation. He turned off his stove, ignored the now clean laundry in the dryer and began to take his favorite “short cut” from his house to hers before he was met with her privacy fence. 

‘Well, any help we can offer, we’ll happily give. Do you mind if I come over and we could talk?’ He texted. 

‘Of course, I’ll open the gate again.’ She texted. 

‘Actually, I just took the shortcut, I just need this back fence door opened.’ He offered before she told him how to open it, since he was tall enough to reach over and down to get the special release to open it and once he did he was met with the same dogs who recognized him and let him through to Maddison who was quickly walking out to greet him. 

“Hey neighbor.” She tried to greet as cheerfully as she could. 

“Come on, get up on that raised garden bed, we’ll take a walk.” Lucas offered. 

“Oh, ok.” Maddison offered before she shot a quick text to her kids to let her know that her and Lucas were going to take a walk and talk parent to parent. While Lucas did the same, but emphasized the importance of being good and proper gentlemen as well as good guests in Addie’s house before he squatted down to help Maddison get on his own back easier before she wriggled to get comfortable as she had to press her pregnant belly right into his back so her legs could get into the natural narrowing behind the horse lung part of his body behind his forelegs before Adrian really started to kick at Lucas’ back. 

“Good grief, is he always like that?” Lucas asked once he stood to his full height and began to walk back to the fence get out of the yard and into the orchard to look it over. 

“Not always.” Maddison answered. 

“You should have eaten or do I need to get you back to the house to get that salsa for you?” Lucas asked. 

“No, I’m already full. It’s not the salsa…” Maddison shook her head no as she used her hold around the belt he wore that kept his shirt around his upper humanoid half. 

“Just feel like doing his gymnastics?” Lucas asked before Adrian kicked even more at his back the more he spoke. 

“Something like that.” Maddison said with a measured breath. 

“Feels like he’s bruising your ribs with those kicks.” Lucas noted. 

“He’s trying.” Maddison admitted. 

“You’ve must have had one hell of a rough time this past year.” Lucas murmured. 

“You have no idea. One minute everything is wonderful. The next moment, the floor dropped and then back to back, catastrophe after castastrophe happened.” Maddison divulged as her tears returned before Adrian seemed to stop kicking so much. 

“What happened?” Lucas asked. 

“Adrian was in an accident at work. It was a malfunction of the silicon crystal grower he was updating. That thing was known to be wonky but it grew some of the best crystals, so they put up with the wonkyness to get the crystals to use the sicon wafers that the crystals would be machined into- into computer chips. It was a catastrophic failure that killed him and everyone else on the shop floor instantly. The damn thing practically went nuclear without the toxic fall out. So I literally kissed him goodbye that morning and by lunch I get a call from his boss telling me that there had been a horrible accident. There wasn’t much left of him except for charred remains. So of course, I had no choice but to cremate what was left of him. Which he didn’t want, we wanted to buried together. But because of the nature of the accident, I couldn’t do that. I just couldn’t bury him like that.” Maddison began to weep using the flannel of his shirt and his back to cry into. 

“And then just last month, my husband’s great uncle died. And because of everything that went down with Adrian. And with Adrian being his favorite great nephew and executer of his estate, that meant that I had to be the executer of Uncle George’s estate, because Uncle George was so sympathetic that I lost Adrian and I even had moved Uncle George in to live with us at our old house as his health declined rapidly. And being the executer of that estate is so much more work than I thought it would be. And between all of that and work, and moving in, I’m just plain overwhelmed. And my kids are overwhelmed with grief too. And I thought moving into this place would help us get a fresh new start and all it’s done is give us fresh new problems.” Maddison confided. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking, buying a farm. I don’t know anything about it. I remember picking the fruit as a kid, but I don’t know about how to care for any of it. I just try to hire the best “experts” I can and I just feel like I just keep getting fleeced with each new one. Because they all of their own things that they all swear by while also dogging everyone else and everything else in the market and I’m so confused, I don’t know what way is up.” Maddison admitted as she turned her head to reach out to touch the still growing and ripening apple. 

“Well, then it’s a good thing that you have a neighbor who does know this stuff and can help. Don’t you dare try to pay me for my help either. We were always friends Addie, let’s keep it that way. I’ll help you manage this farm and do what’s best for you and it. I manage my own pretty good and I have a fruit stand and a ‘u-pick’ when it’s the right seasons for it. There’s ways to use it and manage and have it work for you too and help add some cushioning to any tight budget.” He offered. 

“Thank you Lucas, please don’t think I was…’ Maddison tried to say. 

“Hey, stop, don’t apologize. I sincerely doubt you’re the kind of person who offers a sob story to get what they want for free. You’re the opposite of it actually.” He offered. 

“Thanks, I try to be. I feel like I owe your boys for giving mine a ride home from school, like gas money, or something.” Maddison admitted. 

“Nope, don’t you dare. My boys are happy to get new friends. And we all are happy to help however we can. When we lost Amber, our whole neighborhood and our friends and family came together to help us and I got crash courses on how to do laundry and dishes. And the boys have learned how to do those things too in addition to cooking and general chores and housework. Yours will too. If anything, by coming out here, they’ll get a healthy respect to what it means to be self sufficient, and how to take pride in what you do and how to grow your own food and while we do use a rancher to get our meat, like beef and pork and things, learning how to live off the land and how to care for it properly are lessons that just aren’t really getting taught in school anymore but are now, with the economy being what it is, are becoming more and more important to learn. I know I felt like I was a wreck and it took me a good long while to learn how to pick up the pieces and be everything to my boys that they needed me to be. And you’ll learn the same things for your kids too. And especially with that little one on the way. Your hands are already so full. So if you’ll just let me, let me help you with this stuff at least ok?” Lucas brokered before he felt that baby in her belly start kicking up again before he reached back and put his hand on it and gave the little one a gentle push. 

“Hey, knock it off, your mom’s been through enough, she doesn’t need you beating her from the inside out on top of it.” He directed towards her belly before the baby practically pushed it’s head and shoulder into his hand. 

“If anything I think he likes the sound of your voice.” Maddison offered. 

“Well then should I shut up so you get a break?” Lucas asked. 

“No, if anything, while it excites him, it soothes me. It’s nice to talk to another adult who’s in the same boat you know?” She offered. 

“I know exactly what you mean.” Grinned as he was happy to simply turn and keep one hand on her belly to keep Adrian calm while using the other to look over the trees while Maddison leaned back a bit to give him room. 

“So how do they look? The trees?” She asked as she found her composure. 

“They’re looking really good. The stink bugs have gotten to a few of them. But that’s not unusual considering. Next year, we’ll get proper repellants and treatments to keep the apples in good condition. And the peaches are gonna do really good this year. And obviously, your blueberries did great. The plums will be small but still good. The apricots I think might be a bit sour, but if you dry them, they’ll sweeten up no problem.” He honestly appraised. 

“And everything else?” She asked before he turned back around and for once was happy that Adrian wasn’t kicking the snot out of his mom as he did so. 

“Everything else is looking really good. Granted you used Miracle Grow for your soil so of course, everything you planted will do really well this year. Next year we’ll have to rotate some things cause while miracle grow is great for a season, it can get bled out pretty quick. I’ll get a compost pile set up for you and next year we can tackle making your own dirt for your container plants especially. And of course keeping chickens, their manure is hot, meaning it’s really high in nitrogen, you put that in with your compost heap with charcoal from wood burning, and the carbon in the charcoal and nitrogen combine really well and it’ll grow the best tomatoes ever. And then of course, the blueberries need acidic soil, so the secret there is….” He began as he walked around the orchard and then her vineyard and then into her fence to look at her garden better and simply smiled to feel Maddison lean on his back with her arms wrapped around his waist and simply smile contentedly to hear him talk on and on as it seemed little Adrian seemed to settle down and settle in too.

Then all this talking about food, got Lucas’ stomach to start to growl. 

“Sorry, I should get the kids and head on home.” Lucas said as he then walked her back to her house. 

“Nonsense. I made dinner for all of us. It should be done cooking by now, come on in and let’s have another family meal together. I have a feeling we’ll be having a lot more of those from here on out.” Maddison insisted. 

“But I’m gonna have you lay down so I can get off of you.” Maddison invited. 

“Yup.” He readily agreed before he did just that in her yard before she slipped off only to lay on her back in the grass and begin to laugh, because she couldn’t her legs to close again. 

“Are you ok?” He asked as he moved over, still on his knees to look at her. 

“I can’t close my legs! This is how I got into this.” Maddison cackled as she put her hands to her belly as she was crying she was laughing so hard. 

“Oh.” Lucas chuckled as his cheeks flushed and he had to fight to keep his cock up in his sheath and not immediately lower. 

“Here.” He offered before he gently grabbed her knees to help them close 

“Better?” He asked. 

“Yes, thanks, now to get up.” She said as she rolled over and managed to get up on all fours only to start to laugh again. 

“Shit, I can’t get up either. This was how I got Adel.” She couldn’t stop from laughing just as the kids seemed to notice and come out just as she reached out for Lucas’ hand to help her at least sit up on her lower legs as Lucas couldn’t help but chuckle with her as he rubbed at the back of his neck as he couldn’t help but stare rather hungrily at her ass and how much he’d like to mount her if it wouldn’t practically split her in half or hurt her baby if he tried. 

“Shit, it’s been a while since I rode anything as big as you. Forgot what it felt like for a hot minute.” She admitted once she was able to finally get up to her knees just as the kids came over. 

“Are you ok?” Avery asked his mom worriedly. 

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I just haven’t ridden in a while. I’m fine. Help me up and we can finish making dinner.” Maddison urged them before her kids helped her to her feet before Lucas finally found his own and came into the house to at least help make something of a salad and some sauteed veggies for dinner. 

And at least at dinner, Lucas could still reach over under the table to keep his hand on Maddison’s belly to keep Adrian from kicking her so badly she couldn’t eat or keep her food down. 

[theoriginalmarke]

THURSDAY THOUGHTS

What a week. Thunderstorms, mudslides, blocked roads. Then at midnight Tuesday the power goes out. A repair crew finally arrived at 10am yesterday, and at 5pm the power finally came back on.

Today I’ll be going through the fridge and probably tossing most of its contents. Except for the beer. We know the beer is safe.

Our road is going to be closed again, I presume there’s either more cleanup or replacing another power pole or something. I’m not walking down to find out. I did that Tuesday and that got my steps in for the week.

I walked down taking pictures of a lot of the damage. That was the easy part. Coming back up was rough, but a neighbor miraculously appeared in a side by side just in time to chauffeur me up the last, steepest, hardest bit. 

Yesterday I got my steps in just going up the hill to get a phone signal so I could check on the power company’s status. Have I mentioned lately that I fucking hate SoCal Edison? I fucking hate SoCal Edison.

I also got a lot of reading in. I read one book, Four Horsemen by Dave Turner, and started another. If you like Douglas Adams or Terry Pratchett you’d enjoy this. I loved it.

I did some cleaning, did some rearranging. I tested our new Qomotop air mattress with our old Byers of Maine cots, and they fit perfectly together. We need to go camping so we can test them in the wilds, but it doesn’t look like that will be happening anytime soon. 

Speaking of damage, the mountains have countless new scars everywhere from all of the mudslides. Most of those slides are nowhere near habitation, so that’s good. 

Also, Lake Cachuma was at 35% capacity when we started the week. They expect it to be at 100% by this weekend. I think it’s safe to say the drought is over.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a refrigerator waiting for me.

I love you, baby. I’m grateful to have you in my life. MWAH!

Y’all have a great day.

[wolffdowntheworld]

“Bye Mom!  I’ll see you later!” I shouted as I stepped out onto the driveway.  I closed the door behind me and gave it another tug just to check.  Sometimes it likes to slip back open at the most annoying of times, like when the nosey neighbor wants to know what’s cooking for dinner.  Coincidentally that very same neighbor was outside watering the same bush for far too long, gazing longingly into my living room.  I gave a half-hearted wave, nothing could dampen this day.  It was early morning, and a light summer breeze hung on the air as I hefted my two small bags into the trunk of my car.  I couldn’t help but smile, it was like everything was finally falling into place. 

I had never been a tremendously social person growing up.  It was difficult to find people with shared interest, or to make friends.  It didn’t help that my parents also scoffed at the idea of online friends, but honestly I have never found more genuine connections than in the small corners of chatrooms and forums.  I have never felt more accepted, and more understood, and that wasn’t something I could ever fully explain to them.

The car was hot when I got in, I could feel the dark leather sticking to the skin on my legs, threatening to fuse together like some experimental polymer.  I smiled again as I pulled out of the driveway.  Who would have thought that the people you meet online could turn out to be not only every bit as cool as you thought, but more?  My friends had invited me to a themed camping trip, and for the last week, it was all I could think about.  Even now as I embark on the journey, the excitement has not stilled.  It’s only grown more momentous, threatening to boil over until I drown in a sea of fulfilled childhood dreams. 

Every kid had something in their life that they wished could be fulfilled—some hot new toy, the erasure of a particularly embarrassing event, but me?  I just wanted friends.  Not the kind of friends that you walk past in the hallway and high-five, or the ones who only sit next to you in class and make jokes.  I wanted those storybook friends, the ones who stuck with you, the ones you trusted with your life.  The kind of friends that would wade through lava to get to you even though they knew they’d never make it.  I always just assumed those types of friendships were fantasy, but now I know better.  These guys are those friends to me.

Though the little lady in my phone said the drive was to be four hours long, I found that it actually passed quite quickly and much more pleasantly.  I drove most of the way with the windows down, closing them only when the smog of urban living began to smell like cancer.  As I left my town behind, and the concrete surfaces gave way to large rolling fields, I found that I was able to keep my windows down more and more getting drunk on the fresh air.  It was around noon when I reached the foothills, and about an hour after that when I was driving through narrow mountain roads with cliffs so steep that it looked like you were driving on the tops of the trees.  What an idyllic place for a camping trip.

The clock on my dashboard indicated that the drive had actually been a little longer than anticipated. The park sign loomed overhead as I pulled into the lot and saw my friends already mostly unpacked.  Jason noticed me pulling up as he hoisted his particularly large backpack onto his shoulders.  He gave a smile and a wave as I pulled into a space alongside his parent’s quite nice new Lexus.  A cacophony of greetings and pleasantries met me as I stepped outside, and we spent the better part of a half hour catching up and excitedly going over our plans for the week.  It was all more or less what we had been discussing over the past few days with the addition of hunting which caught me off guard.  I didn’t know how to hunt, and didn’t assume that was within the repertoire of my friends, but decided rather quickly that I was willing to give pretty much anything a shot.

The hike to the campsite took most of the afternoon.  I tried to pack light since I wasn’t sure what would be needed having never camped before.  Sleeping bags and tents had been provided for me, and the additional weight made me glad I packed the bare minimum.  Soon enough we had found a nice clearing in the woods and pitched our tents.  The sun was low on the horizon by the time we had a fire roaring, the crackling of the wood sent sparks flying upwards to mingle with the fireflies; and soon enough, the stars.  We had been talking jovially and laughing almost the entire afternoon, and my face was sore from the unfamiliar sensations of constant smiles.  Brian was the first to speak up after the laughter had died down.  There was a reason we were this far out in the woods.

“You guys feeling ready to let loose?” He asked with a grin.

The rest of the group nodded.  It was the first time in my life I felt comfortable enough with a group of people to share the truth of my double life.  If any of our past conversations weren’t evidence enough, a few of the others piped up and said the same.  I met Brian over on Reddit almost four years ago.  I’ll never forget the day he told me he was born a wolf.  I felt the same way, like there was something different inside me yearning to be let lose.  And that is why we came here, together, to escape the shame society had placed on our shoulders; and to exist as we had always wished.

“Well don’t all start changing at once,” laughed Paul as he got up.

I turned around to grab my larger bag which I had carefully propped up against the tree stump I was sitting on.  For a moment I was almost embarrassed at the amount of money I had spent on its contents, but I was comforted by the knowledge that in a few moments it will have all been proven worthwhile.  I tugged at the zippers and reached inside, and paused—my moment’s hesitation, borne from a primal fear that lay dormant in my DNA, was spurred on by a sudden wave of silence.  Did the fire go out?  It crackled once more, sending up a shower of sparks, shadows growing longer beneath it as the sun disappeared from the face of the earth.  I looked around at my friends, also silent, as if they too felt the sudden disembarkment of the light.  Paul twitched, and I held my breath as if he was going to say something, a hasty silent whisper of a bear in the woods, or perhaps a fellow camper stumbling on our mossy safe-haven.  He couldn’t say anything though, before his neck snapped.

I almost fell off the back of my stump in silent horror, a scream stuck in the recesses of my throat.  None of the others moved, or even turned their heads as Paul’s neck jutted out at unnatural angles.  Another sickening crack split the silence, drawing my attention to Jason whose jaw now hung open like a hollow cavern.  Then it accelerated, cracking and ripping surrounded me as the bones of my friends began to splinter and twist.  Sweat poured down my face as my heart pounded itself into oblivion, was I drugged?  I prayed desperately to wake up from this horror still in my bed on the morning of my departure.  Terror paralyzed me, but I wasn’t afraid for myself, I was afraid I was going to lose my best friends to a supernatural force beyond my reckoning.  I waited in agony for the first of my bones to splinter, but the moment never came.  Paul’s skin began to ripple and tear, dark molted shapes spilling out from the gaps and growing in a lumpy mass which covered his crippled frame.  It was happening to all of them.  As a reflex, I drew my bag up to cover myself as I realized that my friends weren’t dying.  The sounds of small creaks and splits continued as they began to stand, reaching high up into the trees, shifting their bulk onto unfamiliar feet as if atrophied from decades of sitting.  Six piercing bright eyes split the dark around me reflecting the glowing embers of the flames before them.  I shook, struggling to contain my ragged breaths as one of the creatures opened its mouth to reveal rows of massive teeth.  I was certain then, that the only thing my mom would lay to rest next week would be a couple of pale bones, picked clean.  The creature's jaw snapped shut with a crack, it stretched its arms to the sides with a series of small pops, and then reached up to the stars.

“Feels damn good to finally stretch out,” it said in Jason’s voice.

Then another one spoke, and it took me a moment to realize it was staring directly at me.  “Bro, what’s the hold up?  Nobody’s around, be one with the wolves.”  He grinned, showing off his own rows of pointy white teeth.

Still shaking, I began to drag myself to my feet. 

“W-What’s going on?” I asked cautiously.  For a moment I wondered if any sound even left my lips.

“What do you mean ‘what’s going on’?” asked the one who sounded like Brian.  “We came here to be wolves without judgment, why are you standing around looking like you just shit yourself?”

I shrank back a little as he approached me, towering twice my height with fur rippling in the breeze.  Real fur. 

“I don’t-I didn’t-what…?” I stammered.

“Come on already, wolf-out dude,” Paul said from behind.

“Hold on a minute guys,” Brian chided, “what did you think was going to happen here?” he asked me.

“I thought…” I began, “I thought we were going to be wolves together," I said almost whispering.

“Yeah?  Is this not what you expected?  I mean, we were all pretty clear.”

My hands moved on their own and grasped the zippers on my bag.  In the silence of the night the sound of the parting plastic teeth only brought on more waves of self-consciousness.  My free hand reached in until it felt the soft reassurance of polyester fur, my eyes still locked on the behemoth in front of me.  Then, I let the bag fall to the ground, the object of my shame clutched in my grasp.  The others fell silent, and stared at the plush wolf head I held by my side.  Then they began to laugh.  They fell over on each other, rolling on the ground and howling into the night, the sound of ardent amusement bringing a rising heat to my face.

“IT’S NOT FUNNY” I shouted.

They quieted down and turned their attention back to me, and Brian muttered a quiet apology.

“Well?” Jason asked.

“Well what?” I snapped back.

“Aren’t you going to put it on?  We got wolf things to do here.”

So, yeah.  That’s the story of how I spent the best three weeks of my life running around in a fake wolf costume with three eight foot tall werewolves…scratch that…with my best friends, in the forests of the Pacific Northwest.  The only thing I could fear then was whether or not this mud would come out in the laundry. I mean, that's the thing about good friends, they destroy the true notion of fear and hold you up as one of their own.

You made very understanding friends online and they invited you to go camping. At sundown, you all reveal your true forms, you heard the horrifying sound of breaking bone and tearing skins as you friends transformed into 8ft tall werewolves, who are very confused about the fursuit you unpacked.

[alltheangstmygifttoyou]

Reading a great fanfiction and commenting on the work and in my back and forth with the author remember a particularly strange night at my house that was tangentially related to what we were talking about but not enough for me to put it out in the poor comment sections of an innocent ao3 fic. But my tumblr is a different story.

Once upon a time it was late at night. I was tired as fuck. I was upstairs in my room as was my mother and we were talking when my partner came up. My memory is blurry from here on, I cannot guarantee the accuracy to reality the next part I detail are but im doing my best.

My partner says there's someone screaming and banging on our door. Mom goes to investigate. She finds...! A naked woman! A naked woman yelling for help saying that she was in the shower when she heard people break in so she rushed out and ran across the street to our house.

It was winter and we live in a cold state so there was a good layer of snow on the ground the poor woman was stuck in.

My mom got the lady a towel and had her come inside and tried to call the police but the woman was like no! But after a little longer the woman desperately wanted something back at her house- in her fleeing she had left the door wide open and so my mom just slowly walked into the yard to look through the snow and grab what the lady wanted before coming back.

Finally the lady agreed to let my mom call the police. The police came interviewed my mom. And left. The lady asked my mom for a ride and I paced in the driveway for twenty minutes until my mom came back intact cataloging all the new items lodged in the snow.

The neighbors in that house she came from tend to glare at us now. We think one of these people glaring is her mom, who my mom dropped her off to that night. We also think that there might be a whole new family in that house now. We don't really know. Or care. We're not very neighborly people. Before naked lady I thought two gay vets were living there while my mom thought brothers were living there. We clearly have no fucking idea what's going on.

Its been a couple years since I've seen the drunk man yelling curses down the road at 3am. I hope he's doing okay.

[sa7abnews]

Harris VP pick Minnesota Gov Tim Walz lavished illegal migrants with taxpayer-funded 'blanket of benevolence'

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/09/harris-vp-pick-minnesota-gov-tim-walz-lavished-illegal-migrants-with-taxpayer-funded-blanket-of-benevolence/

Harris VP pick Minnesota Gov Tim Walz lavished illegal migrants with taxpayer-funded 'blanket of benevolence'

Kamala Harris’ vice presidential pick pushed for his home state of Minnesota to become a sanctuary city for illegal immigrants and lavished them with benefits, one critic says.Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz told CBS in 2018 that he didn’t want local law enforcement hassling illegal Minnesotans about their immigration status.”All Minnesotans are safer when the limited resources of local law enforcement are focused on local crimes and when everyone feels safe to cooperate fully with the police,” he told the network. “For example, if your neighbor witnesses someone breaking into your home, you are safer when your neighbor knows their immigration status is not at risk if they call the police.”HARRIS VP PICK TIM WALZ’S TOP 5 ‘WEIRD’ MOMENTS IN THE SPOTLIGHTWalz has also backed several campaigns to provide illegal immigrants with taxpayer-funded health care, driver’s licenses and free college tuition.”It’s driving up the cost of every single public service, and there is no way our tax dollars can cover this strain and overage on the system,” Minneapolis GOP Chair Shawn Holster told Fox News Digital. “It’s impacting every aspect of life in Minneapolis and Minnesota at large.”He said his property taxes have gone up by 30% every year for the last three years: “This is to accommodate these social services,” he added. A WalletHub survey found that Minnesota has the eighth-highest combined property, income and sales tax burden in the country.WHO IS TIM WALZ? MEET THE HARRIS RUNNING MATE WHO CALLED REPUBLICANS ‘WEIRD PEOPLE’ In backing the driver’s license push for migrants, Walz argued last year that it would make the state’s roads safer.”Ensuring drivers in our state are licensed and carry insurance makes the roads safer for all Minnesotans,” he said after signing the legislation that made licenses available to all regardless of their immigration status.But Holster argued that acquiring a driver’s license automatically confers the right to vote.”That to me is the most serious part,” he said. “That influences Minnesota elections going forward.”Thanks largely to Walz’s enthusiastic unfurling of the migratory welcome mat, illegal immigrants have been flocking to Minnesota, Holster said.”We are one of the locations where people are transported to when they are processed at the border down in Texas or Arizona,” he said. “Minnesota is a destination because of the abundance of social services immediately available to illegal immigrants.”TRUMP CAMP SAYS HARRIS-WALZ ‘DANGEROUSLY LIBERAL’ TICKET IS ‘EVERY AMERICAN’S NIGHTMARE’Walz’s immigration stances have been hit by several key GOP leaders since Harris announced his selection as her running mate.”The most liberal nominee to ever appear on a presidential ballot has now chosen a progressive running mate who has voiced support for socialism, supports sanctuary cities and wants to give driver’s licenses to the millions of illegal aliens Kamala Harris has allowed into our country,” said Republican House Speaker Mike Johnson.Holster attributed tax hikes in Minnesota to what he deemed Walz’s misplaced largesse.”I like to call it ‘managed decline wrapped in a blanket of benevolence,’” he said. “It’s a destabilization of every aspect of life in Minnesota. He’s the chief administrator of a sanctuary state, and this all happened in coordination with the Minnesota legislature. This all happened under his watch.”Walz did not respond to requests for comment.

[edgewaterfarmcsa]

CSA WEEK 2

   P i c k l i s t

strawberries - garlic scapes - basil  - lettuce - broccolini - hakurai turnips - cucumbers - plants!

I did not intend to go right into week 2 with a weather charged sob story, but here we are. The heat followed by the rain did not demolish crops, but it certainly did not help. Watching the storm roll through and hit the fields was tough on the heart.  First and foremost, let’s talk about strawberries and rain. The two quarts you are receiving today are a part of an effort to clean off the current fruit and make way for the next flush. It is likely that your 2 quarts of berries may not be the sparkly shiny gems we all lust for, but they will absolutely serve a delicious purpose if eaten today or tomorrow, or, use them to make a jammy sauce to complement every biscuit in sight, ahem strawberry shortcakes (see pro tips). Because of the past week’s precipitation, this round of berries will not hold. But the later varieties should (weather dependent, lol).

Another unfortunate arrival this week are all the pests.  I am not entirely certain why they all decided to show up at the sametime, but I've been squashing countless horn worms in the tomato greenhouses and the wire worms are really starting to show their face and make trails in our radishes and our (legendary 2024) hakurai turnip patch. And don’t even get me started on the deer. Daily cute love notes I like to send to Ray have been replaced by deer eating lettuce photos, deer eating strawberries photos, and deer eating cucumber photos.  Not an easy time to farm, but a hell of a great time to be a pest. Some would say, it's buck wild.

MEANWHILE, in the Pick Your Own Strawberry patch, the berries are still showing up, and people are still so pumped to pick.  It’s awesome to hear from Anne and Jen about all the CSAers that have made their way down River Road this week to get in on the action. I do hope to see yall out there as it is certainly the season for stained red fingers/ a belly full of berries/ late night strawberry jamming/ etc.

PYO HOURS: 8am-noon WEATHER & CROP PERMITTING!

FIXED PRICES: CASH AND CHECK ONLY

1 quart: $7/ medium picking box: $25/ large picking tray: $44

FARMY FOODIE PRO-TIPS: 

Yall, get ready, and let me introduce you to new neighbor Mitchell! 

Somehow by the grace of something, Edgewater has been blessed by a neighbor that not only knows how to cook, but also has stacks and stacks of tested recipes.  We connected a few months ago when he popped into the greenhouses.  At that time, much of what you are currently eating from the farm existed in seed packs, waiting to be sewed.  Since then these seeds have sprouted into food and Mitchell is here to tell us how to eat it best.  Thank heavens for resident chef Mitchell Davis, as a result we all get to try new things and prep this bounty in new ways! I AM JAZZED.  If you too are jazzed, I highly recommend subscribing for free to his weekly newsletter Kitchen Sense,

Pickled Garlic Scapes recipe by mitchell!

Similar in flavor to kosher dill pickles because of their strong garlic flavor, these lacto-fermented garlic scape pickles require little effort beyond patience. They will last in the refrigerator for over a year. (I just shared some two-year old ones with Jenny and they were still delicious.) Eat

them as is or slice them to add to salads (egg, tuna, chicken, potato), or relish, or anywhere you might think to add pickles or capers.

I’m not giving amounts for this recipe because this is more of a technique (one you can use with just about any vegetable). Adjust the amounts accordingly, adding more brine in the same proportion as you need to submerge your scapes. Use kosher salt or pickling salt, not table salt,

the iodine in which will cause the pickles to discolor Kosher salt

Hot water

Garlic Scapes

Other aromatics, such as bay leaf, dill seeds or flowering dill, yellow mustard seeds (optional)As for most lacto-fermented foods, your goal is to create a brine that is a 2.5 to 3% saline solution. That means for every 1000 milliliters of water, 25 to 30 grams of salt, or about 2 teaspoons of kosher salt per cup. Place 2 tablespoons and 2 teaspoons kosher salt in a mixing

bowl and add 1 quart (4 cups) hot water. Stir to dissolve the salt. Let sit to come back to room temperature, stirring occasionally to make sure no salt crystals remain at the bottom of the bowl.

Meanwhile, prepare the garlic scapes. Rinse the scapes and cut into 2-inch lengths just up until the bud, which you should discard. Tightly pack the cut scapes into clean canning jars, using the shoulder of the jar to wedge the scapes in. I like to use pint jars. If using aromatics, add a bay

leaf, ½ teaspoon of dill or mustard seeds, and/or some flowering dill to each jar. Once the brine is cool, fill each jar until the scapes are completely submerged. Cover the jars loosely and let sit at room temperature, out of the sun, for 5 to 7 days to ferment until your desired level of tartness. The timing will depend on the temperature of your room. Open the jars once a day to

release any gas that builds up. As the fermentation takes place, the liquid will turn cloudy, and the scapes will darken and sink. Taste them to check if they are done. When satisfied with their flavor, seal the jars and refrigerate until needed. You can strain the brine and repack the scapes

if you like a cleaner look, but it isn’t necessary.

—Cookbook author and food writer Mitchell Davis recently moved from New York City to the

Upper Valley, just down the road from Edgewater Farm. For more recipes, subscribe for free to

his weekly newsletter Kitchen Sense at www.kitchensense.substack.com

Here it is, everyone's summertime favorite: fresh, sweet strawberries atop a flaky, buttery biscuit — topped with whipped cream, of course!

PREP 25 min/ BAKE 10 to 12 mins/ TOTAL 1 hr 35 mins YIELD 9 biscuits

Berries

2 quarts (1336g) strawberries, trimmed of their leaves

1/2 cup (99g) granulated sugar

2 teaspoons lemon juice, fresh preferred

Biscuits

3 1/2 cups (420g) King Arthur Unbleached All-Purpose Flour

1 teaspoon table salt

1 tablespoon (11g) baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 cup (36g) buttermilk powder

3 tablespoons (35g) granulated sugar

8 tablespoons (113g) unsalted butter or 1/2 cup (92g) vegetable shortening, cold

2 teaspoons King Arthur Pure Vanilla Extract

1 large egg

1 cup (227g) milk*

2 teaspoons milk, optional; for topping

2 teaspoons granulated sugar, optional; for topping

*Or substitute 1 cup buttermilk (227g) for the buttermilk powder and milk

Topping

1 cup (227g) whipping cream

Instructions

To prepare the fruit: Mash 2 cups of the strawberries. Slice the remaining strawberries, and mix all of the berries with the sugar and lemon juice. Let rest 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 425°F. Lightly grease a baking sheet, or line it with parchment.

To make the biscuits: Whisk together the dry ingredients, and work in the cold butter or shortening until the mixture is crumbly.

Whisk the vanilla and egg with the milk, then add all at once to the dry ingredients and stir until the liquid is absorbed.

Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead four or five times, just until it holds together. Pat the dough out until it's about 1/2" to 3/4" thick, and cut it into 2 1/2" to 3" circles.

Place the biscuits on the prepared baking sheet, brush the tops with milk for a shiny surface, and sprinkle with sugar.

Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the tops are golden brown. Remove them from the oven and cool for 15 minutes before serving.

To assemble the shortcakes: Whip the cream until soft peaks form.

Just before serving, split open the biscuits, spoon half the berries and whipped cream on the bottom half, top with remaining biscuit halves, and spoon on the remaining berries and cream.

Tips from our Bakers

For highest-rising biscuits, use a sharp biscuit cutter, rather than a drinking glass. A sharp cutter cuts the edges cleanly, rather than mashing them together; a sharp cut allows the biscuits to rise higher.