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iamthegaysmurf · 5 years ago

Note

Ok 3 and 28 is so soft and already so wayhaught but I think I am going to request 24, please.

03. forehead kisses28. forehead touches or nose nudging or any soft variation on the theme24. ‘just really needed a hug’ sort of a hug13. family

@darienplays6688, I wasn’t sure if you were asking for #24 instead of #3 and #28, or if you wanted that in addition to both of them. So… I went ahead and included a little bit of those for you, too. Just in case.

———-

Okay, so… Here’s the thing. I know these were all supposed to be “Super Soft And Fluffy” prompts, but… I think my brain overloaded on all of the fluff that wrote during the last three or four of these prompt fills. If I didn’t let out some of this bottled up angst, I’m pretty sure I was going to explode.

So, like… That’s not to say that this doesn’t have some really soft moments in it (and a happy ending, of course), but there’s definitely some angsty stuff along the way, and it’s not what I would call “fluffy” by any stretch of the imagination.

I��m really sorry, guys. But I just couldn’t do it. I hope you can still find a way to enjoy this fic that you’re getting instead. : /

———-

Set just a day or two after the end of 3x07, but before it picks up with any of the events of 3x08.

Also, the scenes are not in chronological order. It starts in the present, and then alternates between flashbacks and then back to the present again. Should hopefully be pretty easy to follow, but just wanted to give you a head’s up.

———-

“Hey, Babygirl. I think you might need to come down here.”

“What’s wrong? Is it Nicole? Is she hurt?”

“No, she’s okay. She’s just, uh… really quiet and kind of spacing out. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was stoned. But this is Nicole ‘I have a lawbook shoved up my ass’ Haught we’re talking about here, so…”

“Wynonna.”

“Yeah. Anyway. I think maybe the stuff from today just kind of got to her a little.”

“Oh, god. The little girl. Was she…?”

“No! No. The kid’s fine. Haught was a goddamn superhero today. But don’t you fucking dare ever tell her I said that.”

“Where are you guys? I’m packing up now.”

“You can meet us at the Shelterlands Forest Trailhead.”

“That’s where you guys are? Fudgenuggets. No wonder Nicole is spooked. I’ll be there in like thirty minutes.”

“Half an hour?!”

“I’m at the library, Wynonna. Unless one of you has figured out how to teleport yet, then it will take me thirty minutes to get all the way out there.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with your ginger poptart until then? I think she’s slightly burnt right now instead of lightly toasted.”

“I don’t know, Wynonna… Maybe try talking to her?”

“Come on, Waves. You know I’m fucked when it comes to all of that soft and gooey feelings bullshit.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

“Just… hurry. You gotta fix your girlfriend before I end up breaking her even worse.”

“You sure you’re okay, Waves?”

“I’m fine, Wynonna,” Waverly answers, shoving notebooks and tomes into her bag. “There’s nothing going on today. I’m just gonna do a deep-dive into some of this research. I’m tired of us always being two steps behind on everything.”

Wynonna understands the frustration. They’ve been behind the 8-ball on this thing from the very beginning, dating all the way back to Wyatt himself.

But she knows there’s more to Waverly’s mood, and it has everything to do with Mama skipping town again a couple of days ago. At least she’d left a letter this time, but that had done little to quell Waverly’s heartbreak. She doesn’t think Waverly had been completely caught off guard by the disappearance – it was less surprise, and more disappointed resignation – but that doesn’t mean she’s hurting any less.

Wynonna wishes there was more she could do to console Waverly, but to be completely honest, she still hasn’t quite recovered from the sting of it herself. And that’s not counting the fact that she’d discovered Doc’s betrayal not five minutes after reading the warning Mama had left her.

Welcome to the shitshow, population: me.

“If you’re gonna do research all day, why are you packing everything up?” Wynonna eventually asks, worried about what Waverly might really be planning. She’s not sure she has the energy, nor the mental capacity, to save her sister from some half-cocked mission she’s concocted to prove something to herself and everyone else in this godforsaken town.

“I’m just going to the library,” Waverly snaps, rolling her eyes. “Didn’t realize I needed your permission.”

“Whoa, now,” Wynonna says, dropping her feet from the table they’ve been propped up on. “Calm your tits there, girlie. I was just wondering why you aren’t going to use the BBD office since everything is already here.”

“Sorry,” Waverly sighs heavily, her shoulders sagging as she drops into the nearest chair. “It’s just… Jeremy’s doing one of his experiments and he’s gonna be back any minute and I just don’t think I have it in me today to listen to him ramble all day.” Shame causes her head to hang low, and she picks absentmindedly at one of the pockets on her bag. “Nicole’s gonna be out on patrols all day to try and get her visibility up right before the election, so I can’t even use the desk in her office, and I just… I just want to be alone with my books for a while. My mind needs some peace and quiet,” she mumbles at the end with a half-hearted shrug.

Wynonna hesitates for a minute before finally biting the bullet and reaching out to place her hand over Waverly’s on the table between them.

“Whatever you need, Babygirl,” she says quietly, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m here if you need anything.”

“I know,” Waverly says, eventually meeting Wynonna’s eye, but Wynonna can tell by the tremor in her voice that she doesn’t know. That Mama’s selfishness has proven to be a crippling setback for Waverly, erasing the year and a half of progress that Wynonna and Nicole have been making toward helping Waverly believe they’ll never leave her.

Her baby sister may as well be at the bottom of the well that Bobo recently vacated, for all the good the past couple of months have done toward her abandonment issues.

Wynonna continues to hold Waverly’s gaze for a few more seconds, saddened by the doubt she finds there. Squeezing her hand one last time, she finally leans over the table and kisses Waverly’s forehead. She could kill Mama for what she’s done to Waverly again, and she could kill Doc for being complicit in her getaway.

She grits her teeth as she pulls back and stands from her chair.

That’s a problem for another day.

“So, you said Tater Haught’s gonna be on patrol all day?” Wynonna asks as casually as she can.

“Yes…” Waverly looks Wynonna up and down. “Why…?”

Wynonna shrugs, playing with the fringe on her leather jacket.

“Thought maybe she’d like some company.”

“You are volunteering to ride around on patrol with Nicole?” Waverly hesitates,narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “What are you really up to…?”

“Nothing,” Wynonna huffs. “I’m just bored. The Revs are quiet. We have no new leads on Ball-Shart. You’re off to find your Fortress of Solitude, and that leaves me with Opti-mug Prime over there.”

And Waverly may be looking for some peace and quiet, but the last thing Wynonna wants right now is to be alone with her thoughts. There’s also that.

“You know what the Fortress of Solitude is?” Waverly asks and Wynonna immediately winces. “Wow, you really have been spending too much time with Jeremy.”

Waverly giggles, and despite Wynonna’s mortification, she’s glad to see the small spark of joy in her sister’s eyes, no matter how fleeting.

“Right?” Wynonna gasps, feigning disgust. “I’d much rather drive around with Haught Sauce and heckle the townsfolk than have to learn one more thing about a comic book character today.” She spins Peacemaker around her finger ominously, surprising even herself when she doesn’t fuck it up this time like she usually does.

“I doubt Nicole will let you get away with much heckling.” She watches Wynonna fumble with Peacemaker for a minute and then drops her hands to her hips. “Although…” she starts, her head cocking slightly. “Maybe a little ‘quality time’ would do you some good. Might even be better than the get-along-shirt I ought to make you two idiots wear after all of the trouble you caused the other day.”

Wynonna opens her mouth to launch some snarky retort, but Waverly holds a hand up to stop her and Wynonna’s mouth snaps shut on its own before she even realizes it.

“I’ve already heard every excuse under the sun from both of you. I’m not in the mood for reruns.” Wynonna grumbles and shoves Peacemaker back in her holster, but refrains from arguing. “Good. I’ll text Nicole to pick you up out front.”

With that, she finishes gathering up her things and breezes past Wynonna, pausing in the doorway only long enough to tell her to have a good time and to behave.

Wynonna stands alone in the BBD office, silently wondering when she became the child to Waverly’s mom friend instincts, but then she hears Jeremy’s cheerful chattering coming down the hall and she decides to hightail it before she gets cornered by another one of his science-fiction lectures.

Grabbing a donut from the box Waverly had left on the table earlier, she stuffs the entire thing in her mouth in one go and rushes out of the station.

Still brushing the litany of crumbs away from her shirt and jacket while standing on the front sidewalk, she doesn’t notice the cruiser pull up to the curb. When Nicole chirps the siren right behind her, Wynonna trips over her own feet, nearly doing a header right off the sidewalk and into the street.

She can hear Nicole’s laughter, even through the rolled-up windows of her patrol car. She flips Nicole off as she stumbles closer to the car, so Nicole proceeds to chirp the siren at her again.

“Fuck you, Haught!” Wynonna curses through her remaining mouthful of donut as she wrenches open the passenger door, drawing a smug sort of satisfaction from the appalled look on Nicole’s face when even more crumbs come flying out of her mouth to litter the front seat.

“Gross, Earp!” Nicole scolds, immediately scooping the crumbs into her hand and depositing them in the little trash compartment she keeps in her center console.

Wynonna completely ignores her, propping her feet up on the dash.

“Let’s roll, Haughtie.”

“Maybe try talking to her,” Wynonna mocks under her breath when Waverly ends the call.

Wynonna slips her phone back in her pocket and glances over at Nicole.

She hasn’t moved a muscle in at least five minutes, just staring blankly into the open trunk of her patrol car while the climbing harness still hangs from her hips. Wynonna may not always be the most observant person, but she’s not as oblivious as she likes to let everyone think she is. She can see the way Nicole’s entire body is trembling, the carabiners on her rigging jangling softly with the constant movement.

“Maybe try talking to her,” Wynonna mumbles again, kicking a rock and watching it skid off in the opposite direction. “What the fuck do I know about this kind of trauma,” she grumbles as she finally takes a step in Nicole’s direction.

A lot more than you might think.

Wynonna rolls her eyes at herself as she approaches Nicole.

Okay, that’s a fair point.

She hesitates briefly when Nicole doesn’t seem to notice her, then reaches out to lay a cautious hand on her shoulder. Nicole jumps and spins to face her, hand immediately falling to her sidearm, ready to draw if necessary. Wynonna stumbles back a step, eyes wide. She knew Nicole was a little zoned out, butshe wasn’t expecting that.

“Jesus, Wynonna,” Nicole croaks, trying to catch her breath. “I could have shot you.”

“You could have tried,” Wynonna returns, patting Peacemaker at her hip with a wink, opting for an off-color attempt at humor as she so often does in these situations. It doesn’t land, of course, and Nicole just continues to stare at her blankly. “Okay, okay. Geez. Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

“Sorry,” Nicole says, her shoulders sagging a bit. “I was just… just…” She looks back into the trunk of her cruiser, then down at the climbing gear still dangling from her waist, then back up at Wynonna with a frown. “Fuck,” she sighs. “I don’t even know what I was doing. Sorry,” she mumbles again.

Wynonna wonders again how the person with the worst interpersonal skills ended up in this position.

Dolls. Dolls was always good at calming me down when I was freaking the fuck out. What would he do to help Nicole right now?

“Take a deep breath, Haughtstuff,” she tries, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder again. “Let’s start by getting you out of that harness.”

Nicole looks down at it again, but makes no move to start unbuckling it, her hands still hanging uselessly at her sides.

“That’s what she said… HA!” Wynonna holds out her hand for a high five,proud of her joke, but still gets no reaction, even after high-fiving herself.

Fuck. That was a terrible Dolls. Focus, Earp.

“Snap out of it, Haught,” Wynonna says more firmly, reaching out to place her hands on both of Nicole’s shoulders this time, looking her square in the eye. “You were a hero today.” She immediately winces. “Dammit… You weren’t supposed to hear me say that part,” she mutters, but straightens her back and raises her chin anyway. “A goddamn hero.”

Much better. Very Dolls-like.

“Now I know I must be losing it,” Nicole finally says, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly as she shakes her head.

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” Wynonna says dryly and punches Nicole in the arm, snorting when she grabs it and whines dramatically. “Seriously, though,” she continues, gesturing back at Nicole’s gear. “Finish taking that off so we can relax for a minute, Haughtpants.”

“Yeah…” Nicole turns back toward the trunk, staring into it again for a few more seconds before finally starting to unbuckle the harness. “Yeah, I should do that.”

Wynonna leans against the back bumper, watching Nicole step out of the harness and begin to pack away the rest of her climbing gear. She nods to herself, and for the briefest of moments, she could swear she sees Dolls smiling at her from over Nicole’s shoulder. But when she blinks, he’s gone again, and all that’s left is a strange whisper on the wind.

Proud of you, Earp.

“So this is what you do all day? Just drive around town and jiggle a bunch ofdoor handles?”

Nicole completely ignores Wynonna, not even taking her eyes off the road long enough to glance in her direction.

“Because I can think of some things that are a lot more fun to jiggle,” Wynonna says with a wicked smirk, leaning far enough over the console to nudge Nicole in the ribs. “We could always go and visit Pussy Willows again, like we did that one time. Maybe one of the girls could pull that rod out of your ass for you.”

Nicole’s hands tighten around the steering wheel, and Wynonna can see the muscles flexing in her jaw. She immediately wishes she could kick herself.

“Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” Nicole cuts her off, voice tight.

The massacre.

The massacre that had brought the Cult of Bulshar to the forefront of their investigation.

The massacre that dredged up traumatic memories Nicole had locked away for twenty years.

The massacre that, according to Waverly, had conjured nightmares that haunted Nicole nearly every night since.

That massacre.

Wynonna doesn’t even think Pussy Willows has re-opened in the two and a half months since it happened. But here she had gone and dragged it all up again, just for a cheap laugh.

God, I’m such a fuckhead sometimes. Looks like Doc’s assholery is contagious.

Doc.

There’s another subject she doesn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole. She’s batting a thousand today, it would seem. Desperate for any change of subject she can come up with, Wynonna backtracks to the last relatively safe thing she said.

“So these door checks…” Wynonna mumbles, plucking nervously at a string that hangs from the frayed hole in the knee of her jeans. “You have to do the same ones over and over again?”

“It’s important work, Wynonna,” Nicole says defensively.

Wynonna recognizes the look on her face as the one she makes when she’s preparing herself to be made fun of. A pang of guilt stabs at Wynonna’s gut when she realizes just how often she must badmouth Nicole and the way she does her job. It’s not fair and she knows it, but sometimes she just can’t help herself. It’s like a compulsion.

“I know,” Wynonna agrees, still trying to smooth things over.

“You do?” Nicole obviously wasn’t expecting that kind of response. Wynonna glances up to find Nicole looking at her while they’re stopped at a stop sign, eyebrow raised as though she’s expecting there to be more to it than that.

“I mean… I think I know,” Wynonna falters. She frowns as she continues to pick at the string on her jeans. “Okay, actually I don’t know,” she finally admits. Nicole’s face falls, resigning herself to whatever jab is about to come next. “Butyou could explain it to me,” Wynonna continues. “Or whatever,” she adds at the end with a wave of her hand, still trying to play it cool like she always does.

Nicole is silent for a long moment, and Wynonna considers just climbing out of the car while it’s not moving and starting the long walk back to the station by herself. Surely she can’t fuck that up as much as she’s fucking this up right now.

“You’re really asking?” Nicole finally ventures, and the skepticism is etched deeply on her face, but Wynonna thinks she catches a glimpse of something else in her eyes.

“Nevermind,” Wynonna sighs, deflating a little. She’s not getting anything right today. “You don’t have t–”

“No, it’s okay.” Nicole reaches into the center console and withdraws a metalclipboard. “I don’t mind,” she says, handing it over to Wynonna before pulling away from the stop sign and turning at the intersection.

Excitement. That’s what Wynonna had seen rippling beneath Nicole’s skepticism. And maybe even a little hope.

God, she really does love this job.

“What’s this?” Wynonna asks, looking over the pages of checklists on the clipboard.

“That’s our Daily Patrol Log,” Nicole explains as she continues driving to the next location on the list. “I sat down with several of the local business owners last year when Nedley first started giving me more leeway and responsibilities. We worked out a schedule of rotating patrols for their establishments to help with the new visibility directive I was writing, and also to encourage better preventativepolicing.”

“So you really do just… drive around and jiggle their door handles every day?” Wynonna asks after staring at Nicole for a long moment with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s more than that, Wynonna.” Nicole rolls her eyes, but continues explaining, her tone much gentler now. “Increasing our visibility in these areas helps make both the owners and the customers feel safer. We do a rotating schedule during the day shifts, which mostly just consists of driving by, or checking the locks on the back doors and storage areas – jiggling the handles, as you put it – so that we don’t interrupt their normal business. People get used to seeing us around, even in the background, and that makes it less likely for a bunch of shitheads to show up and cause trouble.”

She glances over to see if Wynonna is actually paying attention or if she’s already being ignored. To her surprise, Wynonna is still watching her intently.

“And for the night shift, we check every business on every shift – so long as time allows; sometimes we’re too busy with active calls and have to just do spot checks when we can – but we still try to do them in different orders so that no one can pinpoint exactly when we’ll be there.” They pull into the back parking lot of the Crown Surplus, and Nicole shifts in her seat to face Wynonna. “The night checks are a little more involved. We get out and walk the perimeter. Check all of the doors and windows. Make sure the alarms are engaged. Clear out any jackholes that are drinking on the premises. Things like that.”

“And this…” Wynonna gestures first at the clipboard in her hand, and then out the window at the building they’re parked behind. “It actually works?”

“Some. It’s just…” She tilts her head to the side and Wynonna watches as she searches for the right words. “I mean, Purgatory is a dangerous place, evenwhen these people want to bury their heads in the sand about what’s going on. And if I… If I can get them to trust us, even just a little bit more than they used to, then at least they’re more likely to come to us – to me – if some weird shit starts happening. You know? Like if they have someone that they think might actually believe them instead of just telling them they’re crazy…”

Nicole sighs and turns to stare out the window, the sudden silence in the car covering them like a thick blanket until it’s almost smothering.

“I don’t know,” she finally says, still looking out the window. “Maybe it’s stupid. Just wishful thinking on my part.”

“It’s not,” Wynonna says immediately, reaching out to lay a hand on Nicole’s forearm. She turns back to look at Wynonna, clearly surprised by the gesture. “It’s not stupid.”

“It’s not?” Nicole doesn’t sound convinced.

“No. It’s important,” Wynonna says quietly, squeezing Nicole’s arm gently. “What you’re doing for these people. Whether they recognize it or not.”

It’s in that moment that Wynonna realizes she’s talking about herself, too, and clears her throat uncomfortably as she jerks her hand back away from Nicole’s arm.

“You came up with all of this on your own?” she asks, settling back into her seat and plucking at the string on her jeans again. She smirks to herself when she sees Nicole’s face immediately begin to flush.

Some things never change.

“Yeah, I uh…” Nicole mumbles, rubbing at the back of her neck. “I guess I did. I ran it all by Nedley after I’d written it up, before I met with the business owners. But, umm…” She gives a dismissive half-shrug. “I guess I just wanted to help any way I could.”

Wynonna doesn’t say anything, but she does give a slight nod that causes Nicole to duck her head shyly. They sit in an awkward silence for a long moment before Wynonna hands the clipboard back to Nicole.

“So I guess we gotta g–”

“Haught,” Ruthie’s voice interrupts as the radio crackles to life between them. “Got Ranger Jett on the line for you. Sounds urgent.”

“10-4, Ruthie,” Nicole answers after grabbing the console mic. “Go ahead and patch him through.”

“10-4”

There’s a short beep followed by a series of clicks before a new voice comes through, slightly staticky from the relayed connection.

“Hello? Sheriff Haught?”

“Hey, Robin. Not officially the Sheriff yet,” Nicole says with a slight grin, “but what’s up?”

“It’s a little girl, Sheriff,” he continues, ignoring Nicole’s playful comment. “She’smissing.”

“I can’t, Wynonna. I’m still on shift.”

“Technically, your shift ended two hours ago.” Nicole eyes her carefully, and Wynonna shrugs. “Just sayin’.” She gives the silver flask a jiggle where she’s still holding it out between them.

She had done her best to channel Dolls earlier when she’d needed to snap Nicole out of her stupor. But recognizing the haunted look in her eyes now, Wynonna decides it’s time for some good old-fashioned Earp tactics.

Whiskey.

It’s never let her down before.

Okay, maybe it has… but who’s counting? That’s not important at the moment. What’s important is that Nicole is warring with a darkness right now, and sometimes you just need a little fire in your belly to hold it at bay for a little whilelonger.

Or at least until Waverly can get here and fix things the right way.

She watches the gears turn in Nicole’s head, like she’s weighing a heavy decision, and is more than a little surprised when Nicole reaches out to take the flask from her. She raises an eyebrow, but Nicole levels a look at her that practically dares her to say something about it when she raises the flask to her lips and downs several large gulps without so much as flinching.

“Well, alright then.” Wynonna takes the flask when Nicole hands it back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. It’s more than half empty. Wynonna gives Nicole an impressed look, raising the flask in a mock toast. “Cheers, Haughtshot,” she says before downing the rest of it.

No way she’s gonna let an Earp be outdone when it comes to drinking. Especially not by Five-O. Though, to be completely fair, Wynonna has always been impressed with Nicole’s constitution. It takes a lot to get her drunk, and even then, she still continues to hold her own. She’s proven that over and over again.

Drinking whiskey that night at the station a year and a half ago, back when times were simpler. Nicole had matched her swig for swig, but the minute they’d gotten sucked into an actual case down in the morgue, she’d sobered up instantly. That’s not easy to do, and Wynonna knows it.

Just a handful of months later, covering for Wynonna while staking out Jonas by drinking for both of them just to keep the baby safe. She’d definitely gotten drunker that time around, but no so much so that she couldn’t still shoot out a fuse box from across the room with a .380 Walther PPK she’d pulled out of her sock, and that’s saying something, given their long history of questionable accuracy.

And just a couple of days ago in that Revenant bar. Nicole had been drunk off her ass by the end of that disaster, but even though she would never admit it out loud, Wynonna knows that Nicole is the one that technically won that drinking contest fair and square. The Revenant had lost when he’d hurled everything back up. And Wynonna… Well, Wynonna had been cheating the entire time. And that leaves Nicole. Who matched Wynonna and the Rev drink for drink, kept all of it down, and then, even though she was unsteady on her feet, she still managed to help Wynonna kick some ass in the woods.

If there’s one thing Wynonna can respect, it’s the ability to hold your liquor. And Nicole keeps proving over and over that she can match pace with an Earp. So that’s pretty solid in Wynonna’s book.

She looks back at Nicole, whose cheeks are now flushed from the healthy dose of whiskey. Tucking the empty flask back into the inside pocket of her leather jacket, she climbs up onto the trunk of Nicole’s cruiser. Nicole starts to balk, but Wynonna ignores her, patting the space beside her.

“C’mon, Haught. We got a little time before your unicorn gets here. Take a load off.”

“Waverly’s coming?” That’s the first sign of hope she’s seen in Nicole since they originally got the call from Robin.

“She’s already on her way.”

Nicole lets out a weary sigh, but climbs up next to Wynonna without protest, leaning back on her hands as her feet find purchase on the bumper. She looks up at the moon, already visible in the dimming twilight, and Wynonna can see the deep worry lines etched across her brow and at her mouth. For a fleeting moment, she looks far older than her twenty-seven years would suggest.

Wynonna knows a little bit about that. She’s twenty-eight now, but sometimes she feels like she’s already been dragged through a hundred lifetimes full of griefand guilt and loss.

“Hey, it’s okay to relax for a minute.” She reaches over and pats Nicole’s knee. “Today was a win, Nicole.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, before whispering something so softly that Wynonna can barely make it out over the rustling leaves in the nearby trees.

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell in this town.”

Ain’t that the goddamn truth.

“We’ve been out here for hours, Nicole. Maybe we sho–”

“We’re not giving up, Wynonna!”

Nicole stomps off through the trees, and Wynonna lets her go.

It’s suspicious that another kid has already gone missing in the woods again, especially so soon after what they went through with the missing kids on Christmas just barely a week ago. She and Charlie had tracked them down andwiped out one of Bulshar’s evil beekeeper hives, rescuing Robin and severalothers in the process. Surely he hasn’t already rebuilt and started over again…

No, something about this one feels different, she thinks as she watches Nicole search for tracks in the underbrush up ahead, weighed down by far more than just the pack full of gear slung over her shoulders. Her phone buzzes in her pocket before she has time to think any more about that.

Angelpants: Are you still with Nicole? She’s not answering her phone.

Bacon Donut: we’re on a call

Angelpants: Everything okay?

Bacon Donut: little girl missing in the woods

Angelpants: Bulshar???

Bacon Donut: nah peacemaker isn’t giving me any tingly feelings in my pants

Angelpants: WYNONNA

Bacon Donut: i think she just got lost

Bacon Donut: mom lost track of her by the playground whilechasing after toddler

Angelpants: Is Nicole okay?

Bacon Donut: she’s in full sheriff mode right now

Angelpants: You guys need anything?

Bacon Donut: the whole cavalry is out here

Bacon Donut: i think we’re good

Bacon Donut: you just work on that research babygirl

Angelpants: Okay… But keep me posted?

Bacon Donut: 10-4

Angelpants: You really have been spending a lot of time with Nicole lately. lol

Bacon Donut: shut it shortstack

Angelpants: Be careful, okay?

Bacon Donut: you got it boss

Wynonna slides her phone back in her pocket and does her best to catch up to Nicole again. Nicole continues to ignore her, and Wynonna approaches cautiously.

“Hey…” She hesitates when Nicole freezes in place, but doesn’t turn around. “Charlie has the entire fire department out here, and Robin called in all of the other Park Rangers. I wasn’t suggesting that everyone give up, Haught. I was just wondering if we shouldn’t leave it to the Search & Rescue boys, since that’s what they do.”

“I’m Search & Rescue, Wynonna!” Nicole snaps as she finally spins to face Wynonna. She points at one of the patches on the pack she’s carrying. “I got certified in it at the Academy, because I never wanted another little girl to be stuck in the woods by herself with no one to come looking for her.”

Oh.

Wynonna suddenly understands everything.

That explains a lot.

She opens her mouth to say something – anything – but it seems her brain has forgotten how to string two words together right now.

“It’s going to be dark soon, Wynonna,” Nicole continues, much quieter this time. Her eyes are hollow and she’s white as a ghost. Even paler than usual. “It’s going to be dark, and she’ll be out here all alone, cold and scared, and… and…” Nicole swallows hard around the lump that Wynonna can hear is stuck inher throat. “What if it had been Waverly?” she pleads, desperate for Wynonna to stay out here with her.

“Okay,” Wynonna says, finally finding her words again. She reaches out and catches the trembling hand that Nicole’s been waving around. “Okay, Nicole. We’ll keep looking for her.”

They hear the muffled calls of the other groups echoing through the forest as they continue their search. Nicole was right: the sun is beginning to set, and the beautiful colors painted across the sky bring a sharper chill in the air with them. They’re running out of time.

Wynonna suddenly feels an odd weightless sensation, and then her stomach is in her throat as she starts to tumble forward. Before she connects with anything, though, she’s being yanked backward by her collar, until she’s lying on her back,staring up at the trees.

One red-headed tree in particular.

“You’ve gotta watch where you’re going, Earp,” Nicole says sternly, hands on her hips as she looks down at Wynonna. “I don’t have time to be saving your ass,too.”

“Thanks, Haught,” Wynonna manages to croak. “I didn’t even se–”

“Shhhhh…” Nicole whispers harshly. “Did you hear that?”

Wynonna frowns, straining her ears in the eerie silence of the forest around them. Just as she’s about to accuse Nicole of losing her mind, she hears it, too. It’s faint, almost as though they’d imagined it, but it’s there.

“Hello…? Is somebody there?”

Nicole trembles slightly as she pulls Wynonna up from the ground.

“This is the Sheriff’s Department!” she yells, loudly enough to make Wynonna wince. “Call out if you can hear me!”

They both wait, staring at each other with wide eyes.

“HELP! WE’RE DOWN HERE! HELP, PLEASE!”

“We?” they mouth in unison, still frozen in place for half a second longer.

“Don’t move! We’re on our way!” Nicole finally yells back as she turns and sprints in the direction of the voice, along the edge of the ridge that Wynonna had nearly tumbled over.

Wynonna does her best to keep up with Nicole in the waning light, struggling to stay upright in the wake of the sure-footed Sheriff. It’s painfully obvious that Nicole is far more comfortable in this terrain than Wynonna will ever be.

They finally begin to slow their approach when they start to hear barking mixed in with the small voice. That must be the ‘we’ the little girl was referring to.

“We’re almost there, Ashley!” Nicole calls out again as she begins looking around the new area. “Can you tell me where you are?”

“I fell,” the little girl cries in response. “I can’t move my leg!” Her answer is accompanied by another round of barks and frantic whines. “And Hugo’sdown here, too,” she adds.

Nicole drops to her belly in the dirt and the leaves and creeps closer to the stony ledge. Wynonna crouches and carefully peers over Nicole’s shoulder to find asheer rock face, wrought with stray branches and roots and moss-covered rockssticking out at odd angles. Wynonna knows from experience now just how easy it would be to miss a step if you weren’t looking and suddenly find yourself twenty feet below with nowhere to go.

There, in a muddy patch of snow and leaves tucked away in the shadows below the ledge, they can see a puffy pink coat with a matching set of snow boots – one leg sticking out at an odd angle – and a large dog wrapped around a shivering body.

“Hi, Ashley. I’m Officer Nicole.”

“Hi, Nicole,” Ashley answers weakly.

“Don’t move,” Nicole says again, gentler this time. “I’m coming down to get you, okay?”

“Okay,” the little girl sniffles. “Hurry. I’m sca– I mean, I think Hugo is scared.”

“Don’t be scared, Hugo,” Nicole says, nodding seriously at the dog. “Everything’s gonna be okay now.”

Hugo barks once – a muted sort of woof – and Ashley clutches a little tighter at his fur.

“He says he’ll try to be brave.”

“That’s very good, Ashley.” Nicole pushes up onto her hands and knees. “You and Hugo just need to be brave a little longer while I get my rope ready, and then I’ll be down to get you, okay?”

“Okay…”

“You can talk to my friend Wynonna here while I’m working.” Nicole nudges Wynonna a little closer to the edge, despite the what the fuck look she levels in Nicole’s direction. “Just talk to her, Wynonna,” Nicole says so that only Wynonna can hear her. “So she knows we’re still here and she’s not alone anymore.”

“Uh… hi,” Wynonna says awkwardly, sticking her head over the ledge and waving. She turns to see Nicole unpacking her gear, ratcheting one end of her rope to a nearby tree that looks sturdy enough to serve as an anchor. “I’m Wynonna…”

“Duh,” Ashley says, giggling a little in spite of herself. “Officer Nicole already said that.”

“Officer Nicole says a lot of things,” Wynonna grumbles loudly, sticking her tongue out dramatically at Nicole behind her back. Ashley giggles again, and Hugo thumps his tail against the leaves. “My little sister would love that pink coat of yours,” Wynonna adds after a moment, unsure of what else to say.

“You have a little sister?”

“Uh huh. Her name is Waverly.”

“Walervy?”

“Eh… Close enough, kid,” Wynonna snorts. “She loves pink stuff and rainbows and unicorns.”

“I have a unicorn!” There’s less sniffling in Ashley’s voice now, replaced by excitement instead.

“So does my sister!” Wynonna laughs, especially when hearing Nicole groan behind her.

“His name is Sparkle!”

“His name… is Sparkle…” Wynonna can barely contain herself. “That’s–”

“Wynonna,” Nicole hisses quietly. “Be nice.”

“–a great name!” Wynonna finishes.

“What did your sister name her unicorn?” Ashley calls up again after a moment.

“Officer Nicole,” Wynonna giggles, and then yelps when Nicole kicks her right in the ass with her muddy boot.

“What?” Ashley asks, confused.

“Ummm... I said Tootsie Roll!” Wynonna calls back a little louder this time, still trying to stifle a giggle.

“Like the candy?”

“Yep,” Wynonna answers, popping the p loudly. “Just like that.”

“That’s kinda weird…” Ashley says, thinking about it for a moment. “But I like it!”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought, too,” Wynonna says, glancing back over her shoulder and catching the hint of a smile on Nicole’s face, just barely hidden behind the curtain of her hair.

“Okay, Ashley,” Nicole says, stepping back up to the ledge. “I’m coming down to get you now. All I need you to do is just stay still, okay? Don’t try to move until Iget there.”

“Okay,” Ashley answers, sounding nervous again.

“You need to hang on to this for me,” Nicole tells Wynonna, handing her a portion of the rope after making sure it’s secured through her climbing harness. “Getting down there shouldn’t be too difficult, but I’ll need your help when I’m climbing back up with her.”

“What?” Wynonna balks, trying to back away. “I don’t know anything about this shit. What if I fuck it up?” She can’t handle this kind of responsibility right now.

“Wynonna, focus,” Nicole says sharply, grabbing her by the shoulder. “Look.” She points over to the tree. “I’m rigged up to a pulley system. All I need you to do is keep this part tight. When I create slack from climbing, just keep pulling it tight, okay? It will keep me from falling backward if I lose my footing with her inmy arms.”

Wynonna doesn’t understand how any of this climbing shit works, but she thinks she can manage at least that much.

“Okay,” she finally says, still a little unsure. “Hey, wait…” she adds when Nicole starts to back up toward the ledge. “Do you have our coordinates or whatever? I was just gonna shoot of a quick text to Charlie with our location so he can send some of the EMS boys this way.”

Nicole pulls out her phone and frowns at the missed calls and texts from Waverly.

“It’s okay,” Wynonna says quickly when she sees Nicole’s face. “I texted her a while ago to let her know we were on a call.”

“Thanks…” Nicole says softly. “I didn’t mean to ignore her. I just…”

“Had a lot on your mind?”

“Yeah,” Nicole answers sheepishly, and then clears her throat a couple of times. “Here’s the coordinates,” she says, handing Wynonna her phone with the GPS app open.

“Okay, got it,” Wynonna says after typing a few things into a text message. “Now go and save the day, Sheriff,” she says, warmly and with no hint of sarcasm, as she hands Nicole’s phone back to her.

Nicole rappels down the rock face with ease, and Wynonna watches as she pulls out the emergency med kit from her pack and places a cervical collar around Ashley’s neck to stabilize her c-spine. It’s not ideal to be moving someone like this without a full backboard, but sometimes the circumstances of these search and rescue situations don’t always provide the best conditions. At least she’d been sitting up the entire time she’d been talking to them. That has to count for something. Hopefully.

After placing a makeshift splint on Ashley’s leg, Nicole begins to prepare her for transport. She carefully works another harness up over Ashley’s legs and hips, and then secures it to her own with another short section of rope and somecarabiners. Then she slips Ashley’s hands through a set of loops that almost look like handcuffs made of rope, explaining that they will help her hold on to Nicole while she’s climbing back up.

Ducking her head to put it through Ashley’s arms so they’re around her neck, Nicole scoops her up and holds her close as she moves back to the rocks and slowly begins her ascent. Wynonna is diligent in keeping the slack out of the rope, digging her heels into the soft earth to help her hold her ground. It’s much slower going, and they’re nearly out of light now, but soon enough, Nicole’s head pops up over the ledge and Wynonna kneels down to take Ashley from her and get her back on solid ground.

“Can you tell us what happened, Ashley?” Nicole asks as she takes off her jacket and drapes it around Ashley’s shoulders. Wynonna is immediately reminded of the photo she’d recently seen of a young Nicole wearing Nedley’s coat on the morning he’d found her downstream from the massacre.

“We were playing in the park with Mama and Matthew,” Ashley starts, sniffling again. “Matthew kept tryin’a run away, and Mama had to chase after him. But then Hugo saw a squirrel and tried to catch it and we just kept runnin’ and then we were in the woods and there were so many trees and we got lost and then I fell and… and…” Anything else she wanted to say gets lost in the heaving sob that wracks her entire body.

“Shhh… It’s okay,” Nicole soothes, wrapping her arms around the little girl. She tucks her face securely into Nicole’s shoulder, and Nicole strokes her hair gently. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“What about Hugo,” Ashley eventually hiccups, once she’s caught her breath again. “You can’t just leave him down there!”

Wynonna and Nicole peer over the ledge, watching Hugo prance and pace along the edge of the rock face, whining and searching for his human.

“Okay,” Nicole says after a brief moment of deliberation. “You stay here with Wynonna, and I’ll go and get Hugo.”

“How in the fu– …the f–” Wynonna’s eyes slide over toward Ashley. “The eff are you gonna do that?”

“Ummm…” Nicole thinks for a moment, looking at everything that’s spread out in front of her. “I think I have an idea.” She dumps everything out of her pack, until it’s completely empty, and holds it up. She eyes it for a minute, and then shrugs at Wynonna. “Hopefully this will work…”

“Oh, my god,” Wynonna groans, resting her head in her hand. She knows exactly what Nicole is going to do.

Nicole slings the empty pack back over her shoulders and starts toward the ledge again, but pauses when Ashley reaches out and takes her face in her little hands.

“Officer Nicole,” she says very seriously. “You have to be very careful with him. Mama says he’s an old man now.”

“I’ll be very careful with him,” Nicole answers, her voice cracking a little. “I promise.”

Wynonna definitely doesn’t have a lump in her throat. Nope. Absolutely not.

They begin the process all over again, and Nicole sits with Hugo for a few minutes at the bottom so that he’ll calm down and hopefully trust her enough for what needs to happen next. After a bit of coaxing and a couple of false starts, she finally manages to get the aging German shepherd into her giant backpack, with just his head sticking out so that he can watch over her shoulder. He doesn’t seem particularly pleased about this development, but he lets her secure the zipper and lock it in place so he can’t fall out on the way back up. It will have to do.

She hoists the pack back up onto her shoulders and starts climbing the wall again, Wynonna dutifully working her end of the rope. It doesn’t take quite as long as it did when Nicole was bringing Ashley up since she has the use of both arms, but Wynonna can tell she’s feeling pretty exhausted by the time she reaches the top.

Thankfully, Charlie and the boys have arrived by then, already tending to Ashley while Nicole frees Hugo from his port-a-puppy status. He barks a few times and then runs in an impressive amount of circles before finally jumping up on the back of the ATV and settling in next to Ashley, refusing to leave her side again.

They all set out back toward the trailhead where Ashley’s family is waiting for them, leaving Wynonna and Nicole standing alone in the silence of the dusk-covered woods.

“That was some Haught shit back there, Officer Nicole,” Wynonna says after a few minutes. She pats Nicole on the back when she gets no response.

Nicole says nothing, merely swaying on her feet until she has to reach out and lean against one of the nearby trees for support.

Then she promptly doubles over and vomits all over her boots.

“Okay, even I didn’t see that coming…” Wynonna says, unsure of how to react.

Nicole still doesn’t say anything, heaving three more times before she’s apparently emptied her entire stomach out into the muddy snow. When she finally stands back up, Wynonna takes her by the elbow and starts leading her back the way they came.

“Alright, Red. Let’s get you back to the land of the living.”

“Maybe try talking to her.”

Waverly’s voice is still bouncing around in Wynonna’s head as she watches Nicole stare out into the darkness, shivering slightly despite having her jacket back after Charlie had replaced it with a proper blanket. She reaches out and places a hand on Nicole’s knee.

“I shouldn’t have called you ‘Deputy Dipshit’ the other day.” Nicole immediately stiffens beside Wynonna. That definitely touched a nerve. She curses herself and starts to change the subject, but she sees Waverly glaring at her with her arms crossed, telling her to talk to her about it, so instead, she pushes on. “I was only fucking with you,” she hastens to justify, “but I still shouldn’t have gonethere. It was a shitty thing to say, and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Maybe I did,” Nicole sighs, visibly deflating. “Seems like everyone has that opinion these days.”

“I don’t,” Wynonna says immediately. “Nedley doesn’t.”

“Right,” Nicole scoffs. “You drag my ass about my job every chance you get. And Bunny Loblaw…” Nicole swallows had and looks away again.

“Bunny Nut Cheerios can choke on her pearls, for all I care,” Wynonna seethes. “And me…” Wynonna starts, a little more sheepishly. “Well, since when do you listen to a word I say, anyway?”

Nicole just raises an eyebrow at her.

“Okay, look. You know I don’t have the best track record with cops. Even Nedley, from before I came back. But you’re…” Wynonna waves her hand around awkwardly. “…Different.”

“Different,” Nicole repeats in a deadpan voice.

“Yes. Different, okay?” Wynonna kicks her foot on the bumper of the cruiser while she tries to figure out what to say next. “Like. Even before you kneweverything, you still tried to look out for me and my sister. And then you took a bullet for her. And you believe me when I tell you something’s important, even if I can’t always explain it right then. And… and you didn’t just automatically assume I was crazy and needed to be locked up again.”

That last part comes out much quieter than the rest of it. Nicole turns to fully face Wynonna and opens her mouth to respond, but Wynonna holds up a hand to stop her.

“I’m not very good at this shit, but I’m trying to say something important here. Let me get it out.” Nicole just nods silently, and Wynonna continues. “And then my sister fell for you, and that scared me. Because I thought you were just going to take her away from me. But you didn’t, and you stayed, and she stayed, and… You tell me you love her, and then you told me you love me, too, and… and…” Wynonna sighs and buries her head in her hands. “Look, I’m just sayin’,” she says, popping her head back up again. “I know we made up and called a truce the other night back at the station, but I still shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t deserve it, okay?”

“Okay…”

There’s a lot to unpack there, but Nicole is apparently willing to just let it go for now. Thankfully.

“What if I can’t do this, Wynonna?” Nicole asks instead after a few moments of silence. “What if I’m not cut out to be the Sheriff?”

“No way,” Wynonna snorts. “That’s not possible.” Nicole shrugs a little helplessly at her. “Listen, Haughtdog. Nedley has been talking about you non-stop since you started working for him a year and a half ago. That man believes in you more than he believes in Willie Nelson. And I told him a month ago – before any of this other shit started happening – that you were ready to take his place whenever he was ready to let you. That you had the kind of fight in you that this town needs right now.”

“You… you did?” Nicole seems genuinely surprised by this.

“I did,” Wynonna nods. “And I know for a fact that you heard every word I said to ol’ Bun Bun after we finished saving her ass. Naughty Haughty and your eavesdropping.” Wynonna gives an approving waggle of her eyebrows and Nicole shoves her playfully in the shoulder. “But the truth is, Nicole… You’re the best goddamn cop this town has ever seen. Nedley is a good man, and he’s done the best he can with trying to balance the protection and the cover-up for the past thirty years. But you’re… Well, like I said. You’re different. You’ve got your eyes wide open going into this, and you’re everything this godforsaken town needs right now.”

Nicole stares down at her hands, suddenly very interested in the stitching on her gloves.

“I mean, look at how much of a difference you’ve already made just with something as simple as your handle-jiggling thingy. The people trust you. They’re glad to see you coming, and that’s important in a town like this.”

“Maybe so…” Nicole glances back up at Wynonna. “Thanks, Earp.”

“For what?” Wynonna asks pointedly. “If you ever tell a living soul I said any ofthat, I’ll deny it to my grave.”

Nicole snorts and shakes her head.

“Fair enough.”

“Now, uh…” Wynonna wipes the palms of her hands nervously on her jeans. Her head is screaming at her to just leave it at that, counting this conversation as a win. But her heart remembers the way Nicole had looked in the woods, and how haunted she’d been when they’d gotten back to the parking lot of theTrailhead. She feels Waverly coaxing her to continue. “Do you, uh… want to talk about what’s really bothering you?”

Nicole instantly shrinks back into herself, looking back up at the darkened sky. Wynonna could kick herself for being such a bull in the china closet, but she’s really trying here. That’s got to count for something.

“How much do you remember from that night?” she asks tentatively.

“Not a lot,” Nicole mumbles. “Just flashes. That asshole in black leather. Screams. Blood. Floating in the canoe. Freezing so badly I thought I was turning to ice.”

“That… sounds like a lot to me,” Wynonna says. “And the little girl today?”

“I knew how scared she would be. Alone. In the dark. In these woods…” A tear trickles down Nicole’s cheek. “It put me right back there again.” She wipes discreetly at her face, and Wynonna chooses not to say anything about it.

“Waverly said you’ve been having nightmares about it?”

“She told you about that?” Nicole tries to sound mad, but Wynonna recognizes the truth in her voice: embarrassment and shame.

“She tells me a lot of things,” Wynonna says gently. “Do you… want to talk about them?”

“What would you know about it?” Nicole huffs angrily, instantly starting to throw up a wall between them. Wynonna isn’t having any of it. Not this time.

“About what, Nicole?” She cuts in firmly. “About something so traumatic from your childhood that it still haunts you twenty years later? About darkness and death that twists you up so badly you end up in the loony bin for it? About closing your eyes and seeing every person that’s ever died because you failed them etched across your eyelids until you can’t tell what’s real in the moment and what’s only a memory in a dream?”

Nicole stares at Wynonna, wide-eyed and mouth gaping open. Wynonna just sits patiently, waiting for Nicole to process everything she just said.

It takes a minute.

“S-sorry…” Nicole eventually stutters. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t… I… S-sorry…”

“You don’t need to apologize, Nicole.” Wynonna reaches out and takes one of Nicole’s hands. “I was just trying to point out that maybe I get it a little more than you might think. If you ever… you know…” She lets go of Nicole’s hand and waves it awkwardly in the air. “…Needed someone. To talk to, I mean.”

“Waverly’s so good. She’s always there for me through the nightmares.” Nicole sighs, looking back down at her hands. “But sometimes I feel like I’mdrowning in it. Like I’m going to drown both of us, and I can’t even see what it is that’s dragging me under.” She wipes at her face again, more openly this time.

“Yeah, I get that,” Wynonna admits. “Why do you think I left for so long?”

“I’m not going to leave her, Wynonna!” Nicole says sharply, sitting up straight again with her brow furrowed.

“I know,” Wynonna defends, throwing her hands up between them. “I know. That’s not what I meant. It’s… I just… You’re a lot stronger than me, Haught. I was too weak. I had to leave because I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle it myself, and I sure as fuck couldn’t hand dragging Waverly down with me.”

“Am I?” Nicole asks quietly.

“Are you what?” Wynonna frowns, confused.

“Dragging her down? Would she be better off without my baggage?” Wynonna doesn’t think she’s ever seen Nicole look so broken before.

“No,” she says firmly. “God, no. You’re the one that’s given that girl wings,Nicole.”

“I don’t know about that,” Nicole sniffles, smiling slightly despite herself. “Seems like this Julian dude probably had more to do with that than me.”

Wynonna can’t help but snort.

“Can’t believe Mama bagged herself a fucking angel.” She barks out a laugh, but then her tone turns darker. “You deserve your angel far more than she ever did.”

This time it’s Nicole that reaches out and takes Wynonna’s hand.

“Hey.” She squeezes gently until Wynonna meets her eye. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? All of us.”

Wynonna searches Nicole’s eyes and finds nothing but genuine compassion there. She wants to say something – feels like she should – but she can’t seem to find the right words, so she just nods her acknowledgement.

Then, as if someone else is controlling her body, she reaches out and wraps her arms around Nicole, pulling her in close. Nicole feels stiff at first, like she’s notsure what’s happening, but then she relaxes into the embrace, reaching aroundto close her own arms around Wynonna’s shoulders.

They stay like that for several long moments, losing track of the number of heartbeats, before Wynonna pulls back again, looking a little flustered with herself.

“What, uh… What was that for?” Nicole asks through a lopsided smile.

Wynonna shrugs as casually as she can manage.

“You just looked like you really needed a hug.”

Just then, a pair of headlights comes sweeping into the parking lot, eventually coming to rest on the trunk of Nicole’s squad car, lighting both of them up in the sudden brightness. The engine cuts out and they’re left with visions of a red jeep swimming behind the sunspots now floating in their eyes.

“Speak of the devil…” Wynonna says, wiping the salty tracks from her own face now. “Or angel, I suppose,” she adds, nudging Nicole in her ribs with her elbow.

They both share a laugh as they hop down from the trunk, wiping their hands on their pants and feeling all of the joints in their body crack as they stretch out their weary limbs. Waverly approaches them slowly, eyebrow raised.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asks, her tone suspicious.

“Nope,” Wynonna hurries to say. “Not a thing, Babygirl. We’ve just been waiting on you.”

Waverly eyes Nicole, who just nods along innocently.

“Riiiight…”

Before she can say anymore, Nicole has closed the distance between them, sweeping Waverly into her arms. She kisses her deeply, far more than just a quick peck on the lips, before finally pulling back to nuzzle their noses together and eventually letting her forehead rest against Waverly’s.

Wynonna would normally clear her throat or make gagging noises or harass them in some other way, but instead, this time she quietly watches. Really watches.

Watches the way Nicole seems to draw strength from the simple fact that Waverly is near. Watches the way Waverly clutches at Nicole’s jacket, keeping her close and present in the moment and steady. Watches them whisper softly to each other and the way Nicole’s body instinctively relaxes at Waverly’s touch. Watches the way they both seem to be trying to protect each other at the same time.

She’d meant it before when she admitted to Nicole that she was scared when Waverly fell in love with her. Scared that Nicole would take her away. That Waverly would leave her. But as she watches them now, she doesn’t feel scared anymore. They were made for each other. They deserve each other. And there’s no way she can be jealous of that. She couldn’t ask for anyone betterto be taking care of her baby sister, and for all of the blustery sarcasm shethrows Nicole’s way, she’s also glad that she has someone like Waverly to takecare of her, too.

There’s been a lot of reevaluating lately. About what family truly means. Is it just about blood? Are they destined to be bound to those who are related to them simply because they share some common DNA? All Wynonna’s blood brings is a curse of failure and leaving and death. Generations of Earps had fallen to forces outside their control. Daddy and Willa had betrayed their family. Mama had bailed… twice. Is that really what Wynonna wants her family to be?

And what about the family you choose for yourself? She’s not doing much better in that department, either. She had to kill Shorty with her own two hands. Dollsleft her to all of this alone, even though it wasn’t the same way Mama had left. And Doc… Doc had chosen to betray her, to become the very thing they hunted, all because he couldn’t deal with a little manpain.

She has Alice, and will always love her. But god knows when the next time she’ll get to see her will be. If she ever gets to see her again at all. Just another piece of family that’s been ripped away from her.

Maybe some things just aren’t in the cards for the heir to a curse that she never asked for.

But then she looks over at Waverly and Nicole again. Remembers Waverly telling her that she loves her. Remembers Nicole telling her that she kind of loves her, too. Remembers Nicole telling her ‘I got you, Earp,’ and actually meaning it. Remembers Waverly telling her ‘I’m here for you, now and forever,’ and staying with her even though she could have run so many times.

Something clenches in Wynonna’s chest, and she nearly forgets how to breathe. She does have a family. And it’s right here in front of her. Just the three of them against the world. Her sister, and… her sister’s girlfriend? Her… Nicole? Her… best friend. The words feel foreign in her mind. She’s never had a best friend before. Not really. But she looks back over everything she and Nicole have been through, and she thinks maybe… maybe this is what that is supposed to feel like.

Besides. Something tells her that at some point, she’ll eventually have to start calling Nicole her sister, too.

She doesn’t think that would be such a bad thing.

“You okay?” she hears Waverly asking, and she realizes that both Waverly and Nicole staring at her with raised eyebrows.

Fuck. Get your shit together, Earp.

“Uh, yeah…” She clears her throat a couple of times and gives her patented thumbs up. “All good. You guys ready to get out of here?” she asks, hoping to distract them.

“Please,” Nicole answers wearily.

“Grab your bag and toss me your keys, Babygirl. I’ll drive your Jeep home so you can ride with Haughtstuff.”

“You sure?” Waverly asks, her eyes lighting up.

“Of course. Go take care of your girl,” she says, walking over to kiss the side of Waverly’s head as she takes the keys out of her hand.

“Nicole said she’s starving. We were gonna stop by Mama Lou’s.” Waverly’s voice is muffled as she digs through the cab of the Jeep for her bag and her purse. “You wanna join us before you head home?” she asks when her head pops back out again.

Wynonna glances over at Nicole, not wanting to intrude on their time together, but Nicole nods at her with a warm smile.

“Sounds good,” she admits. “I could murder a stack of pancakes.”

“We’ll follow you there,” Nicole says as she watches Waverly settle into the passenger seat of her squad car.

Wynonna nods and turns to climb into the Jeep, but stops when she feels a hand on her arm.

“Wynonna…” Nicole’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times like a fish out of water as she tries to find the words to say. “Thanks,” she finally settles on. “I, uh… I don’t think I could have made it through today without you.”

Wynonna smiles genuinely, no trace of sarcasm or teasing. Then she shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world to say.

“You’re family, Nicole.”

#prompt fill #my fiction #wayhaught #wynaught brotp #wynonna earp #ask and answer #darienplays6688 #anon #writer asks #writing #mine

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scared-aquarius · 7 years ago

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signs as dumb YA novel clichés

Aries: The Chosen One~ “This wasn’t how my life was supposed to go. When I turned 18, I wasn’t expecting to be thrust into the Underworld. I was gonna go to college, be a normal student and rush Sigma Phi Chiapet my sophomore year. But everything is different now. The prophecy has spoken and I’m going to go through a training montage and become really badass really quickly even though I was against being the chosen one in the first place but now I have a black belt after a month of punching bags of sand and now I’m ready to save the world. And guess what. At the end of the book............. I save the world.”

Taurus: The “you don’t know you’re beautiful until a boy tells you so / not like the other girls” average looking protagonist~ “Hi. My name is Tookiewisp Flowerspark. I’ve got mousy brown hair and bright brown eyes. I’m tall and thin and I don’t have boobs yet. I love to wear my worn out high top converse and skinny jeans. Maybe if I wore a dress, boys my age would notice me. But to be honest, I’m just not into girly stuff like most other girls are. You could say I’m different.”

Gemini: Crush throughout the entire novel turns out to be an asshole~ “He’d never notice a girl like me. He doesn’t even know my name!’ *sudden makeover transformation where she takes her hair out of a ponytail and takes off her glasses* Boy: ‘Wow, Winteria Snow. I never realized how pretty you were until you put on makeup and put in some contacts. Will you be my girlfriend?’”

Cancer: Instant love~ “That’s when a saw her, walking down the street. She was coming my way. Her hair blew in the wind like a majestic mane of gold. The way she walked made my heart skip a beat. I started sweating and I couldn’t stop my heart from racing. I stared at her as she walked past and I tried to say hello, but my words came out in a jumble. She gave me a weird look and walked away. It was at that moment that I knew I had fallen in love and found my soulmate. Also, by the end of this book she falls in love with me even though I basically obsessively stalk her throughout the entire novel and have no redeeming qualities.”

Leo: The Queen Bee~ "That's Brooke Richardsworth. She's the coolest, most popular girl in school. She’s got long, straight blonde hair and wears pink skirts, pink cardigans and pink headbands. Those are her two slightly less attractive friends, Chelsea and Paige. Brooke is also dating my crush. We used to be friends, but ever since I accidentally spilled my chocolate milk on her back in the third grade, she's done everything she can to make my life miserable.”

Virgo: Problematic parents~ “My parents recently got divorced, so now on the weekends I hang out with my dad, and during the week I hang out with my mom. It gets pretty tiring going back and forth after a while, but every other Saturday my dad (who is also a professor at a university) takes me camping and we roast hotdogs over a campfire which really makes up for it. Recently though, he’s been hanging around a new young blonde woman named Tamara Blake. He’s been spending all of his time with her. We haven’t even gone camping since they met!”

Libra: The improbable love triangle~ “What am I going to do? I have two boys who just got into a fight at school because they both are in love with me, average annoying weird superiority complex girl. On one hand, there’s Jackson- the brooding bad boy who wears leather jackets and rides motorcycles and treats me like garbage when he’s in a grumpy mood. Then on the other hand, there’s Theodore- the quiet sensitive one who reads books and drinks tea and I always catch him watching me from behind a bookshelf in the library! This is the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make in my life. I HAVE to choose one of them. But... who?”

Scorpio: The dystopian society~ “Hi, I’m Bland McBore. In our society, the rich and the poor are divided into two groups and all the rich people are evil and live in a city where there are floating vehicles and all the buildings are white marble and/or chrome, and all the poor people live in mud huts and have to eat bugs and also everything is a weird shade of gray to represent sadness or something. I am going to start a revolution and overthrow the government with the help of my two best friends and once we start to cause trouble with our rebellion, the leader who is probably an old white guy with a pointed beard will offer us riches that we originally fought against in the beginning but don’t worry we will heroically reject them and fight for equality and won’t stop until society is no longer divided. Also people will definitely die but it will all only be people we are conveniently close to. Me and my two best friends get to live until the very end because we move the plot forward.”

Sagittarius: Protagonist just moved to a new school~ “My dad got a new job so we had to move across the country. I’m really shy and quiet and dorky so I know that my first day is going to be horrible. The teacher will make me stand up at the front of the class and then I’ll cry because I’ll be thinking about my life in my old town. Then as I sit back down at my desk, the teacher will keep on teaching instead of addressing that one of her students is visibly upset and crying. Then, the boy behind me will tap on my shoulder and introduce himself- this boy will be the guy I keep as my friend until the end of the novel where, plot twist, he ends up being my perfect match all along.”

Capricorn: The Intellectual~ “My favorite past time is to go to this tree up on a hill where my mom is buried that is also conveniently in the middle of the woods but also within a short walking distance from my house. I go there and I just think. Not of a lot of kids from school do that these days. Everyone is so obsessed with the latest gossip or the latest trend that it seems like everyone forgot how to, well, think. Sometimes I wish I was like them. I wish I could turn off my brain and mindlessly walk around without a care in the world. But I can’t because I’m different and smarter than everyone else and I also like to read and I love the smell of old books and reading and did I mention that I also love to read.”

Aquarius: Really weird “quirky” names~ “Hi, I’m Ingridagelica Applewindbalmkettlefish and this is my story. I know, I know, my name is pretty strange. My parents picked it because they said that when I was born they knew I was going to grow up and do something really great and unique and they also said that it means “not like the other girls” when spoken in Latin.”

Pisces: The “nice guy” guy friend who turns out to be The One all along~ “I just can’t believe my crush won’t notice me! Tell me Carter, what am I doing wrong?” “Nothing, Skylightquia. If it’s worth anything, I think you’re pretty.... uh, pretty awesome, I mean.” *Skylightquia sighs and looks up at the stars from the rooftop they got onto somefuckinghow* “The stars are really beautiful, aren’t they?” *Carter looks at her meaningfully* “Yeah they are”

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studyaroundthetokki · 7 years ago

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Downsizing the Curated Collection of Stationary Part I... and advice for some folks about what to take & what not to take/get while teaching overseas since apparently I can’t stay on fucking topic

FFS i have way too much stationary. I’m using this as an opportunity to give away/re purpose/get rid of some of the ones I haven’t used. I figure a lot of people have trouble giving this kind of stuff up so I thought I’d post about it today while taking a break. note: this is a really long post and there’s a lot of cussing once I start talking about living in South Korea lol.

I cleaned up a moleskine that I’d used like 3 pages out of and stuck it on my brother’s desk with a nice pen & fountain pen I don’t write very well with but is really nice. I’m filling up a good A4 size zip pouch full of school supplies/journaling stuff for my niece. Anything that looks businessy is going to my mom for her office. I love stationary & pens & studying and all that but this has gone overboard for way too long. I also realized that I need to pair down to what I actually am going to take with me if I’m planning on moving overseas again for a good couple of years (which is the plan). What good do dip pen samples do me in a box? It’s now out where I will use it.

I have numerous boxes but for my birthday I finally settled on getting a few things (it’s not til April but some stuff was almost out of stock on a site that doesn’t get stuff in stock often):

1) One small sturdy travel container for my smaller stationary items (ink cartridges, washi tape, ect). I found a beautiful wood one that would be perfect. I have this weird fascination with small boxes anyway. The one I’m in love with but haven’t ordered is just slightly larger than my instax photos, which is also a reason to grab it. *cough*

2) Limiting notebooks to 1 per subject/project + planner + journal. The rest have got to go. Luckily I have a niece who’s just getting in middle school this year. I can let her mom know to come by and pick up a crapload of stuff (including my well worn Kanken mini.. hopefully she doesn’t mind pink. She’s going through a phase of saying she’s girlie but not *too* girlie with an extra emphasis on this.. though she squeals in delight over baby clothes and my pink stuff so I’m a little inclined to believe this is more to do with her friends than her own tastes).

3) If I haven’t used it in 2 years, it needs to go. With the exception of some of my ink bottles. I have some lovely shades but didn’t have an ink converter until recently again. I actually need to get a 2nd one...This includes old textbooks that are getting moved into sturdy containers instead of keeping them and any books that I don’t *really* love are eventually going to get donated/given away/given to the library (they don’t always take them).

4) Do I *really* use it? I have some pens that I don’t use often. Like my TWSBI Diamond 580AL. It’s a beautiful pen but I don’t use it a lot. However, I’m not giving it up. My Lamy has now been stuck in my younger brother’s room. I used it frequently but I’m not in love with it. I use it because I feel obligated to. I recently gave away one of my favorite fountain pens to my cousin because she has the same issues with pain while writing that I do (we have the same chronic illness). I replaced it with a pen that is on the way. I used that sucker all the time. It was a cheap fountain pen but it wrote better than my 60$ pen. :| I have empty notebooks I”ve been holding onto for years and.. while paper that has aged is really pretty.. if I can’t think of a use for it, it’s going to my niece.

5) Junk notebooks: I think it’s good to have some cheap paper just to doodle or write quick notes or practice sentences or write fuck on 5000 times on a bad day. However, I do not need more than one of these books at a time. *stares at stack of blank cheapo books* Sigh.

6) If you really love it, keep it. There’s a difference between hoarding and keeping something because you genuinely adore it. I have one notebook that is for a *very* specific project. It’s still blank... because I haven’t started the damn project. I have photobooks that I haven’t gotten to. I will probably get rid of the album and instead get a new one since it was just a cheap dollar store book and it doesn’t reflect my personality. I also want a smaller one for my instax pictures which mean a lot to me since they’re one of a kind. This kind of momento stuff is important. My one book is expensive and has beautiful paper. I plan on making it my first “real” translation project for one of my favorite stories (Kiki’s delivery service).

On Packing to Move Overseas: A few personal notes

Back to the topic of sorting with a mind of moving with only two suitcases and a backpack. This is part of why the downsizing is happening. These are more like additional notes rather than guidelines. Just as a reminder to myself in about 12-18 months. Things I need:

1. ONE small pouch of pens/ink/tape/scissors/ect.

2. One book of personal grammar notes. I don’t need the textbooks, but I do need my grammar notes.

3. Whatever textbook I’m currently working on and one notebook to go with it. No more. I do not need the old editions nor 5000 vocab cards. That’s what anki is for.

4. One set of nice stationary. I like to write home. I also like to visit stationary stores. I only need one freaking set to go with me when I move to write people. I didn’t have internet or a phone with rates that I could afford until about 3 months in last time. My mom is not so good with skype (somehow).

5. A tablet. My brand new expensive gaming laptop I got for work & play burned itself out in two months. A good tablet will be fine for just about everything until I can get a PC/phone. Having something portable but with enough functionality that you can use it as more than an mp3 player is important. Google maps saved my ass many times in South Korea, and all the city subway lines had free wifi.. so yeah it was important when I got there to have this sort of thing.

6. A sturdy case for my consoles. I mainly game on a switch and my 3DS. These things are pretty damn portable. Might have to get a new dock at some point but mostly I can just get a wall USB adapter to charge both. This is why I like these consoles, I already have a USB adapter for my 3DS, so I just need the wall plug now that I think about it lol these kinds of things are going to be on sale in most department stores maybe even Daiso I’d think.

7. Sturdy file folder that is non-descript to store copies of all important documents. Leaving this shit lying around your apartment while overseas just randomly.. which I totally did. Is dumb. Important documents includes both emergency and general contacts. Your phone might get stolen so unless you have Nana’s phone # memorized, you might want to get that shit down on paper. Same thing with next of kin, addresses, banking info.. it’s really important to have these and to store them well.

(this post is getting ridiculously long, oh well, that’s why I use “read more” instead of just posting a fucking wall of text like a lot of people do).

8. While we’re at it: clothing items. Deodorant & toothpaste/toothbrush/ect are important enough that you want a month supply but you’re going to find big brands available in large cities. Like they had secret & dove in Korea. It was no big deal (though I think the anti-antiperspirant was weaker). You can find socks. Underwear/bras in western sizes are an issue. Shipping can be a pain in the ass, though someone noted to me that wal-mart ships internationally which is good to know. The climate may sound reasonable but it’s best to prepare for the worst. I heard rainy season and assumed they just meant heavy storms. I grew up in an area with a lot of flooding but I wasn’t worried. Three days in: We took a field trip, I had no umbrella, the water was fucking ankle deep in the street. I had no way of properly drying out for hours. Jeans were not the best choice. The day had started off sunny. I just was not prepared. The humidity is comparable to Mississippi in August. You have been warned. Winter: It wasn’t cold by my normal terms. Hoever, after living there for 5 months by this point, my body was like FK UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU. Layer-able clothing is a must. Gloves. Hats. Scarves. A decent jacket. GOOD SHOES. Don’t like hose and your work calls for it? Opaque leggins and socks in the same colour will work wonders for you. Fat as my 260lb ass? Leggings, oversized shirts, a-line skirts, stretch jeans, light t-shirts, camisole tanks under garmets to catch the sweat of simply living in the humidity that you just do not understandholyfuckitslike98%humidityiguessthedevilvacationsinasiaandturnsuptheheat.

*note: if your ass is moving overseas, please make sure to look into the cultural norms for “revealing” clothing. Shout out to busty girls like me, camisol tank tops under everything help with that “i turn anything into a peep show” cleavage problem. Hike that crap up, sew up the elastic bands. they also provide extra support when you’re running up and down those stairs, and help absorb the sweat. you do not understand how bad it is. i am a cleanly person but i’d come home looking like i just got out of a sauna in full snow gear. it’s BAD. Jesus christ this post is getting ridiculous. oh well.

So yeah. Clothing. It’s important. You don’t want to bring 2 years worth of stuff, but just bring some extra variety. I made do off of just a few things. I did not *ever* wear the fancy evening dress I got “just in case” (it was cheap ok?) but I did wear the simple A-line dress I’d got to some formal diners.

GOOD SHOES.

Anyway.. uh.. back to other things besides clothes. lol

WTF # was i on? sec. scrolling up.

9. A decent camera. I’m not talking about for youtubing. The biggest complaint I got from the fam & friend fam was that I didn’t post enough pictures (I posted like 200+ in a year so pfft).. but honestly I wish instead of investing in that computer I’d gotten a better camera. I have a good one now, it’s a nice little point & shoot. I’m not saying you need something that is worth 900$ or more. Just get a legit camera. I also have a HD video camera that I never fucking use. I thought I would, I may in the future (though it’s a little outdated by now I guess? shit records in 1080p so that’s good enough for me, fuck youtube & it’s 4K shit). Anyway, it’s important to document some of it. You’ll want to.

10. A good journal. I don’t even normally keep one, but having a planner and a journal as two separate books is a good thing. Even if you just write down “today sucked Eunji is a racist asshole” (that’s a whole other story) or “broke my leg. i now have 3 months off--that’s better than nothing because having a time frame of when this shit happened is important a few years down the road when your memory starts getting shitty. You don’t have to include what color the flowers were and what type they were in the gift that you got from the guy who’s face you won’t even remember.. but writing down the name of that cafe that had the amazing cake & espresso will bring the taste back in your mouth years later b/c fuckboys be bs but food is life. Taste & Scent & sound memory are real. You won’t regret it if you record that kind of stuff.

11. Last one for now cuz I got shit to do. Invest in good luggage. One good bag that you can actually lug around because you very well may end up pulling that sucker behind you when you’ve got 22 minutes to get cross town and get on that fucking train or you’re going to miss the god damn flight and it’s non refundable. Sobbing in the middle of a train station because you missed your train and you do NOT speak the language very well is uncomfortable for you and everyone around you. Jesus that day sucked.

I strongly suggest something that doesn’t go past mid thigh. + 1 carry on that you can actually lift and a small shoulder bag that fits in the carry on until you are at the airport. If you can’t carry all of it yourself for at least a mile without dying, then you’ve over packed, it’s too big and you’re going to fuck yourself over. Leave enough room in it with the idea that you might be bringing some extra shit back actually that’s another bullet for this list

BONUS: DO NOT GET BUNCHES OF SHIT UNLESS YOUR ASS IS STAYING IN THE COUNTRY LONG TERM. I HAD TO LEAVE SO MUCH SHIT BEHIND AND ENDED UP FORGETTING THE SOUVINERES THAT I WANTED TO KEEP IN THE 24HR GET YOUR ASS OUT NOTICE I GOT FROM MY EMPLOYER WHEN MY CONTRACT WAS UP.

Granted, my dumb ass thought I’d have gotten let go sooner than 5:30 on the last day since every other fucking teacher did. Nope Eunji the Assji decided that I would work from 7-5:30 down to the last fucking minute without so much as a “do you need help getting to the station”. -_-; That was on me. I should have known and prepared better. It didn’t matter that my colleagues got released with time to leave with some dignity and not lugging a 80lb set of luggage 1/2 across Busan.

DO NOT DO THIS TO YOURSELF. Ship stuff home if you have to, even if it costs a lot. Consider how hard it will be to take this stuff to the post office. Do not lug yourself down with a bunch of trinkets. Take photos, write journal entries. Remember that the stuff is just stuff and memories are way more important than stuff. One small box you can fit in your suitcase. Don’t take more than that. Really.

#personal #advice on stationary & travel #lol i go way off topic here

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wearethejerkoffs · 8 years ago

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1-100 ;;;-)

1. How long have you had a Tumblr?2011 i think? 2. Describe your first kiss, who was it with, what was it like, where was it etc?his name is justin. he had a gf at the time and kissed me (shitty af) in a library. it was nothing special. i really liked him though. 3. What’s your biggest regret? I know we all say we don’t regret things but obviously it’s how we learn, from our mistakes. So what’s something from your past you wished you could have changed?dating emilio for as long as i did. 4 Favorite Songs at the moment?i cant pick its too hard 5. What is the craziest thing that you have ever done?i am not wild6. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?i erase this shit from my mind7. Do you have any scars and if so, how did you get them?they come from myself hahahh 8. Where would you like to be in 10 years?just successful and happy. 9. What are your views on drugs and alcohol?theyre fine just dont make them your top priority 10. What are your views on religion?believe what you want. dont bash me for not believing in anything though. 11. Have you ever thought about ending your own life? If so, why?of course. i get sad, hoe. 12. Write 5 facts people might not know about you.i am very open. there is very little people dont know about me. 13. last really important text you got?ky cam saying shes down to shop w me and maddie :)14. Can you let go?not easily 15. Discuss your first love.have i even had one?16. Put your ipod on shuffle and write 10 songs that pop up. Explain why each song is on there.i dont have an ipod but fuck i wish i DID17. Name somewhere you’d like to move or visit.visit? probably canada. id move there too. or wisconsin. 19. What are your views on mainstream music?no beef, i dont often find stuff i vibe with on the radio but i have18. Are you currently missing someone?more than anything 19. At what age do you think people should have sex?prolly high school, but really whenever you are comfortable. 20. What are your highs and lows of this past year?highs: leaving my abuser! getting a job i love! leaving people who are shitty and toxic! meeting rachel! meeting jessie! seeing amity!lows: spending the first half with my abuser! self harming again! crashed my car! 21. What are your strongest beliefs?i believe in aliens and ghosts (who doesn't?) i believe in an after life. 22. Who are you closest to in your family?my brother hes my best friend damn near 23. How important do you think education is?pretty important. i dont think college is necessary. 24. What’s one of your favorite shows?how i met your mother25. How have you changed in the past 2 years?i am stronger and happier. i have better friends and just a happier life. 26. Name 5 people who are famous who you find attractive.ryan ross, detective nick amaro, the rock, young matthew lillard, and ellen page27. Name your favorite movie and what it’s about.nick and norahs infinite playlist. its about a girl falling for a dude thru the mix cds he made his ex (her friend) and meets him at the club and soends the whole night with him looking for her drunk friend and a secret show. 28. Who is someone who fascinates you and why?aalyssa. shes so interesting to me and i could listen to her talk for hours. 29. What kind of person attracts you?lanky emo boys. douchebags. pretty girls. 30. What’s a problem that you have recently had or are currently having?i want to find another job 31. Name something that you miss.dhanes laugh. 32. Share 5 goals you want completed in the next 30 days.get in the shape i want to. thats it. 33. What’s been the highlight of your month and the lowest point? anytime i see michael and rachel its a highlight. low point: my FUCKING CAR GETTING HIT. 34. What’s something that you’ve done in the past that you would never do again?molly damn near. 35. What is you’re biggest insecurity & why?tummy. its too big. 36. What were the last 3 songs you listened to and what did they mean to you?eeeek i cant remember.37. Do you have a toy that’s really special to you and if so what is it, how did you get it etc?no i dont but i wish i did. 38. Have you lost anyone close to you to death? yep. i love you dhane! i love you christian! 39. What is your purpose in life?do i really have one? 40. When was the last time you cried and what was it over?today at a sad facebook video 41. If you got to spend an entire day with your favourite celebrity what would you guys do? we would have sex i love you ryan ross 42. If you could only listen to one artist for the rest of your life, who would you choose and why?nevershoutnever. you fuckin know why. 43. What are 3 traits that you like about yourself and what are three that you dislike about yourself? Personality wise.goods: im very empathetic. i look out for people. im fucking funnybads: im too nice. i get angry very fast. im petty. 44. Can you cook? If so what are your favorite dishes to make? yes!! i love to just make pasta with chicken and homemade pizza. 45. What was the last decision you regretted making?probably fucking sy hahahaha 46. Do you believe in the saying “once a cheater, always a cheater”?nope47. Do you ever wish you were famous?not really 48. What’s the nastiest thing anyone has ever said to YOU? Or something that’s hurt you above anything else and why?emilio said some of the most disgusting shit to me for months. dude told me he was gonna kill me hella times and how i should just end my life already! fucks wrong with that dude? 50. What mark would you want to leave on this world after you are gone?just want people to remember the good about me and my laugh 51. Have you ever thought of having plastic surgery?not really52. Have you ever jumped in the pool with your clothes on?hell no whats the point 53. Have you ever slapped a boy in the face?yes54. What’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you?drive around with me and not make fun of me while i sob my eyes out. thanks becca! thanks jessie!55. What is one of your favorite memories?amity performing youngbloods. thanks for making me cry! 58. What’s the nicest present you’ve ever received?becca bought me an amity ticket, i love that bitch. emilio got me a stuffed animal that is sully so that was pretty nice of him to do (rare) my fav is when people give me flowers. 59. Have you ever had your heart broken?yeah im a sensitive bitch. not his fault tho!60. Have you ever wanted to change anything about your life? If so, what?yeah like mostly where i live. i would just like to leave here. 61. What is something you feel like you are really good at? problem solving62. What are your top 5 favourite all time songs by your favourite artist?open letter. deaths hand. i hate hartley. youngbloods. chasing ghosts. 65. What’s one thing someone has done for you that was really small but made a huge impact?becca had my back throughout my past relationship. she really did everything for me. s/o to her for being legit the best person i have ever met. 66. What do you do when you can’t sleep?watch more tv68. If you could change 3 things within your government, what would they be and why?get trump out of office. thats all i got. i dont know much about the government. 69. What’s your favourite holiday and why?id say halloween. i like the spooks. 70. What’s the kindest thing a stranger has ever done for you? Even if it’s TINY like holding a door open for you, something that you remember even though they were a complete stranger.the nice anons i get. thanks guys. 71. Who’s your favorite cartoon character?honestly? probably scooby. 72. What’s the first song that comes to your mind while reading this and why?scooby doo theme song. i love that shit. 74. What would you like to be the first dance song at your wedding?idk i never think about my wedding plans tbh. something alternative ideally. maybe something by flatsound or across the universe. 75. Have you ever been told you look like a famous person, if so, who?nope 76. What’s one thing you can not live without?becca! 77. What is the most selfless thing you have ever done for someone?idk i will really do anything for anyone. mostly just helping out with driving. 78. Are you a girly girl?i dont think so 79. What color is your bed?black80. Do you prefer light or dark haired guys?dark. ideally brunette. 81. Are you currently frustrated with a boy?hell yes but not his fault 82. Do you have a best friend?yes. s/o to becca. s/o to maddie. s/o to tony. 82. What song makes you cry the most?i cant even pick. probably something by flatsound 83. What’s the funniest film you’ve ever seen?eeeeeekkkk...... i have no idea...... honestly for some reason all that comes to mind is 21 jump street and thats weird 84. What’s something crazy that you’ve always wanted to do?im just tryna kiss a gurl85. Has anything ever happened to you that you just can’t forgive?yes for sure. i will never forgive my abusers. 86. Ever been really drunk?sadly87. Is there any type of rumor going around about you?not really. these people were saying i do bars and thats pretty fucked up considering ive never taken prescription pills for "fun"89. Have you ever felt ashamed about something? If so what was it & why? yeah i'm not gonna talk about it 90. Do you keep a journal? If so what mostly goes in it? Random thoughts, feelings, stories?i did, i should start again.  91. Do you like somebody?yep :-)92. Craziest shit ever done?im not crazy 93. What’s the saddest story/one that’s touched you the most that you’ve ever heard on the news?the kid that hung himself because people spread rumors that his girlfriend killed herself. 94. If you were told you were going to have 3 daughters, what would you want to name them?i have no idea because im never having kids. 95. Do you have a middle name and if so, what is it?marie96. Are you in a relationship?no 97. Do you enjoy drama?not really98. Are you a virgin?nope99. Are you short or tall?short100. Do you have siblings? If so, what are their names and how old are they? amber is 31, erin is 29, and tony is 16

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panucas · 5 years ago

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The ‘straight’ girl and the library / It’s not easy being part of a family!

Had this idea *cough* dream *cough* about a girl falling in love with a librarian but librarian lady had a small daughter so now I'm trying to write it might take a big ass time but for a first chapter I don’t think this is bad (it’s 4 am excuse me for any mistakes made)

Komatsu was never that girly. Ever since she was little she liked boys things ‘But who doesn't at that age?’ she always thought. But she grew up and learned how to put on make up, dyed her hair, the usual teenage stuff, it didn't mean she liked it but she felt obligation to her parents since they always gushed at how cute their daughter was and how womanly she had to become. Get a good husband and give them grandchildren.

It was a particularly cloudy day with 76% chance of rain, the news said, when she decided to go out with her new boyfriend on a date. ‘I hope I didn't come too soon...’ Komatsu ended up sighing. 4 minutes till her date time and she already had waited 10. ‘But why do I have to come sooner? It’s not like guys mind if I'm a bit late, what’s their problem?’ her friends had told her it was cute and proper for a girl to show up early because it was... ‘cute’. Their wording.

‘Cute my ass!’ Komatsu thought ‘If they don’t like it it’s not on me! Just because I've been dumped...’ she started counting with her fingers as she was thinking ‘… 8 times was it?’

‘Komatsuuuuu!’

Great. Her date had arrived.

‘Hibiki you’re late!’ He was. 2 minutes.

‘Sorry, sorry the train was crowded. Did you see the news? It might rain today.’

‘I didn't really, is it bad? Can we still go to the park?’

‘I thought we could maybe hit the library instead? It’s a 76% chance of rain or something.’

‘A date? In the library? Are you crazy that’s so boring.’

‘C’mon, Komatsu that way I can also see the new sports magazine! Came out yesterday.’

So that was the reason he didn't mind the rain, his favourite sports magazine had come out recently.

‘Well ok we can go then. But! You owe me a decent date!’

‘Yeah yeah, thank you Komatsu! Love you lots!’

The walk to the library was somewhat dull and boring, Komatsu thought. Just holding hands and not much talking.

When getting there first thing to do was find an empty table but the only one available was near the counter, so it had to do.

‘Hibiki, I'm gonna grab some drinks from the vending machine we just passed through. Want something?’

‘Huh? Oh yeah sure black coffee would be great if you don’t mind, thank you.’ Hibiki was already reading the magazine and not paying much attention to anything else.

Komatsu gladly got up and made her way outside to the vending machines by the convenience store near the library. It had started to drizzle a bit but nothing serious, still far from full on rain, when she spotted a lady with her hand stuck in the snacks vending machine.

‘Wow she’s really getting in there huh? Looks frustrated to boot. Weirdly cute.’ Komatsu thought. A woman that looked in her early 30’s (maybe 20’s-ish) with brown hair in a ponytail, stripped sweater topped with a black apron was trying to take her hand out, or maybe it was the snack too? While whispering things to herself.

‘If she works at the store she can just ask for help from a senior. Wait maybe she can’t? Maybe she’s the senior and doesn't wanna be seen like that. I feel you lady!’

The closer Komatsu got the more she could hear the struggle.

‘C’mon! Get! Out! Here! I’m hungry! I just wanted to eat why did this thing had to get stuck? Who makes a bag this size and puts it in a machine in the first place if you cant get it out? And who even buys it? Me apparently… God!’

‘Do you- Can I help maybe? Is it just you on your shift? Or I can get someone from the store maybe?’ she offered. Didn't hurt to help since she also needed to use the vending machine.

‘What?’ The woman finally looked up. ‘Oh thanks I just… I can’t take my lunch out and really need to eat you know? Now is the only time I could come to the vending machine to grab something and the thing just! It doesn't want to give me my food even though it ate my money so well.’ She stuck the tongue out at the machine in a fit. Now that Komatsu looked better how was it that the ponytail was still hanging? And the glasses were almost falling out, but the woman looked young and cute all dishevelled like that.

‘Here let me help.’ Komatsu said while taking the glasses off and cleaning them with her shirt before putting them in the woman’s face again. She then crouched enough so she could put her hand in the machine herself and take the woman’s lunch.

‘Thank you so much! I would've given up eventually but I think the library isn't that full right now because of the rain.’

So she worked in the library not the convenience store.

‘I'm Komatsu.’

‘Oh sorry! Natsuki nice to meet you. And thank you once again.’

‘No problem, we've all been there. Want a drink? Came to get one for me and my boyfriend but might as well get you one too since you’re going to be eating. Truth is I don’t really want to go back inside right now since he’s going to be distracted with sports magazines and I didn't even bring my homework. It was supposed to be a date you know? But rain and stuff.’

‘Sure! Then let me buy you a snack too. As a thank you.’

The two of them kept themselves near the wall so the rain didn't hit them, amongst the interaction it started to rain fully so the best spot was there. They also had been talking for about 15 minutes before Natsuki had to go back to work and Komatsu followed her shortly after.

‘You know if you’re going to eat just that for lunch, in the afternoon no less, why not bring something from home?’ Tact was the one thing people said she didn't have and it was not girly at all, but Komatsu didn't mind, she could fake the rest but not her personality. ‘Sorry! Dumb question, you’re probably busy to make it. Or… laziness?’

Natsuki laughed. ‘Are you like that to everyone you just meet?’

‘What, amazing? I think like to think so.’

‘I meant direct. I have a daughter in pre-school so I can’t make it in the mornings, does that answer it?’

‘It actually does. But you still should eat at decent hours. And more than that. Buy something from the convenience store instead of the vending machine.’

They had arrived at the counter.

‘Well but isn't the vending machine faster? Is that your boyfriend over there?’

‘Yeah I’ll just give him the coffee give me one second.’

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking random things, getting to know each other and every time Komatsu glanced at her boyfriend she thought that, maybe he wasn't for her since he didn't even lift his head from the pile of magazines he had with him to check on his girlfriend.

#writing #original #library #student #lesbians #wlw #girl's love #should make manga style but don't really feel like dealing with a huge story like that

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how2to18 · 6 years ago

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CRABAPPLE, PRICKLY GOOSEBERRY, bittersweet, and devil’s walking stick — are these the names of thorny old monsters in some dark children’s fairy tale? Nope. They are simply the flora that vine the paths of the forests and hollers of the Smoky Mountains. A brave five-year-old girl named Ernestine must journey through these persnickety snatchers in the early morning shadows in order to deliver mason jars full of fresh milk to the neighbors who live far away. It is 1942, and the husbands are away at war. The wives and mothers run the farms, raise the children, milk the cows. These country neighbors take care of one another in their time of need.

This is the framework for Kerry Madden-Lunsford’s Ernestine’s Milky Way, an achingly poignant tale of independence, resourcefulness, and good old-fashioned neighboring as seen through the eyes of a strong-willed little girl in the wartime South. The illustrations, by Emily Sutton, brush the pages like the powdered wings of butterflies. There are sturdy rock houses and old wooden fences, hand-sewn blankets and dusty banjos, everything surrounded by watercolor bursts of soft country colors — trees, leaves, grass, and plants. Flowers and vines are like their own characters. The facial expressions of the people make you ache for home. Any city-dwelling child is bound to look up at the parent, or teacher, or sibling, or babysitter reading them this story and ask, “Can we please go the woods tomorrow?”

I met Kerry Madden-Lunsford during my first MFA in Creative Writing Residency at Antioch University in Los Angeles. I was immediately drawn to her; she emanates a warm and welcoming vibe, with sparkling blue eyes and a wide, down-home smile. She dresses like a hippie teenager from the ’60s who has met her future self, an older, wiser earth-mother. Currently she directs the Creative Writing program at the University of Alabama-Birmingham, where she covers the desks and tables of her classrooms with books — dozens of picture books and chapter books, and middle-grade and YA, and, sprinkled in between, weathered copies of classics, like cherished relics from a magical library. Reminiscent of your favorite elementary school teacher, she actually writes out the lessons — infused with words of wisdom and anecdotes — in a comforting cursive on the board. She connects with everyone. She connects with their work. She was my first workshop leader, and her editorial letter about the 20 pages I had submitted told me everything I needed to know about her — namely, that she was a very old soul with a very young heart. You can sense this about her. You can feel it flowing from the pages of her books.

I recently visited Kerry at her home in the hills of Echo Park. We sat together over bagels and coffee with her husband Kiffen and their dazzling little dachshund, Olive, to talk about her latest release, the aforementioned Ernestine’s Milky Way, as well as her prior work.

She is the author of eight books, including the lauded Maggie Valley Trilogy set in the Smoky Mountains of Appalachia. The first in that series, Gentle’s Holler (2005), was a PEN USA finalist in Children’s Literature, and it’s easy to see why. The book shares some strands of Ernestine’s world as it explores the life of a 12-year-old girl and her adventures, with her eight brothers and sisters, in the Smoky Mountains in the early 1960s. It’s heartwarming and heartbreaking at once. Imagine a mash-up between A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and Coal Miner’s Daughter, and you’re nearly there. Mountain country folk ridden with worries about money and bellies swollen from hunger are the characters that anchor Madden-Lunsford’s work. But the families in her stories rely on mutual affection and a resourcefulness that flows like pure mountain spring water to get them through the rough times.

Her December 2018 essay in the Los Angeles Times, “The Christmas Suit,” is a blistering meditation on family addiction — a deeply caring mother’s despairing attempt to stave off the crippling inertia of frustrated emotion. It’s a different side of Kerry, a flip of the coin. It reveals something tender and truthful about a majority of authors who write picture books, middle-grade, and YA: that they are seasoned individuals whose brave flights of fancy trying to survive adult life are the pearls of wisdom hidden in the sealed-shut shells of books that celebrate innocence, or the end of it.

TIM CUMMINGS: Where did you grow up?

KERRY MADDEN-LUNSFORD: That is a complicated question, though it shouldn’t be. The short answer is that I grew up the daughter of a college football coach, and we moved all the time. For years I said that I lived in 12 states, but my daughter, Norah, reminded me that it’s actually been 13 states. Alabama is lucky number 13. I used to remember all the states by mascots and teams rather than towns. My father’s first coaching job was for Father Lopez’s Green Wave (High School). He married my mother in between football and basketball season.

He was both the coach for both outfits, so he had the basketball season printed on the wedding napkins to build up team support. “Follow Janis and Joe on the Green Wave.” Always the coach, he informed the principal, Sister Annunciata, that the school dance should be held in the library, so the students wouldn’t mess up his gymnasium floor in fancy shoes. He only told me this story a few weeks ago or it would have been in Offsides, my first novel about growing up the daughter of a football coach. Sister Annunciata shut that suggestion down flat, and the dance was held in the gym. I asked him if he chaperoned, and he said, “Hell, no.”

Because some people are going to think that I am the daughter of John Madden, which I am most definitely not, I finally had to write an essay called “I Am Not John Madden’s Daughter.” My father has recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s dementia and he sometimes wakes up from naps, talking old football plays or what defense he ran at the Sugar Bowl in 1977 as the defensive coordinator. He did this while we were in Rome a year ago, and my mother said, “Snap out of it! You’re in Rome!”

How did you come to writing?

I’ve told this story once or twice, but I really do credit my fourth-grade teacher, who told me I was a good writer. It was the first time a teacher ever said any such thing. They usually said, “Aren’t you a nice tall girl who listens well?” They said this because I was shy. So it was a relief when a teacher noticed more than height or shyness. That day, I walked around my neighborhood of Ames, Iowa (Iowa State Cyclones), noticing everything, and wrote a story called “The Five Cents,” thinking it was about the “the five senses.” I never was a good speller. I remained a shy kid, and later some of the nuns began to suggest I might have a vocation to join the convent. I wrote about everything, but mostly I read — I read all the time and that absolutely formed me as a writer.

Who are your greatest influences?

My parents were great influences for humor and resilience, but I rebelled quietly because I was not a girly-girl or an athlete (unless field hockey in ninth grade counts, along with golfing on the boys’ team in high school), so I set out to find ways where I could create my own identity away from the gridiron.

I was definitely influenced (terrified) by Helen Keller and facing her fate when I had to get glasses in third grade. The doctor told my mother, “she’s blind without them,” to make a point. When I sobbed in my father’s arms about my horror of going blind (I think I also threw up in the bathroom), he shouted, “By God, nobody is going blind in this house!” I cried, “But how do you know?” “Because I said so!” It made no sense whatsoever, but I believed him.

I adored my babysitter, Ann Kramer, who was a wild tomboy in Ames, Iowa. I loved the coaches’ wives because they were such good storytellers. I was incredibly influenced by my first best friend, Pattie Murphy, in high school because she was so funny and irreverent, presenting a good girl persona to the powers-that-be and then whispering to me filthy things that were horrible and hilarious. We got caught cracking up laughing in the worst places — in class, at midnight Mass, on stage in Ten Little Indians. She was the first friend to make me laugh. We were miraculously “the new girls” at almost the same time in a school, Knox Catholic, where the kids had been together forever; even their parents and some grandparents had attended Knox Catholic.

I was very influenced by my Aunt Jeanne, who gave me books, and my Uncle Michael, who taught me about art. I lost them both to suicide when I was very young, and I wrote about them in Offsides as a way of atoning for not paying more attention. I wrote an essay about that this past summer.

I do think I was most influenced by getting to study abroad at Manchester University my junior year in college. A group of British drama students adopted me and showed me a whole world of art and theater, and I worshipped them for their hilarity and brilliance. I also had wonderful professors in England, who paid attention to me in ways I had never experienced during my first two years at the University of Tennessee. Plus, nobody in England cared if I went to church or watched football. They wanted me to write plays and “drop the grotty trade school occupation of journalism,” and I was very happy to oblige. I’m now writing a novel inspired by that time called Hop the Pond, which also has themes of addiction and features the Brontë sisters and their brother, Branwell.

When I returned to the University of Tennessee from Manchester, I often pretended to be a British exchange student (yes, I was insufferable because I couldn’t bear leaving England for Tennessee). I changed my major to theater, and I came to know my professors in Tennessee who taught us theater history, acting, directing. I was grateful for the encouragement and attention they gave me as a student (and a girl in the South) who wanted to write plays. The only contemporary playwright I knew of at that time was Beth Henley, and I hadn’t yet heard of Wendy Wasserstein.

Our theater department was still cranking out suggested scene study pairings of mostly Inge, Albee, and Williams, and maybe, once in a while, Lillian Hellman. I wanted to write plays, so I stayed in Knoxville after graduation and began an MFA in playwriting. I was the only student in the course at the time, but it gave me two years to learn to teach “Voice and Diction” and to write plays while working at a bookstore. Those two years in Knoxville influenced me because that is when I fell in love with Southern literature. I dropped the faux British accent, and my patient friends were grateful.

Finally, I think my greatest influence just happened this year. She is my cousin, Maureen Madden O’Sullivan — or, simply, Mo. We met for the very first time last May; her grandfather and my great-grandfather — Patrick and Joseph Madden — were brothers in Roscommon, Ireland. Mo and I have lived parallel lives in Los Angeles for 30 years, with many friends in common. She has been sober since 1982, and I have a family member who suffers from addiction, so she has taught me how to really let go — to breathe, to meditate, to eat better, to make gazpacho, to take walks by the sea. She also has stage-four cancer and is doing everything to live and take care of herself, from chemo to acupuncture to meditation to plant medicine to sound therapy to massage to simply taking joy in everything. She is the light of my life, and when I complain about us not meeting sooner, she says, “We met at the perfect time.” She is more evolved than I am.

I have gathered all the letters and texts we have written to each other since May in a compilation, and it’s currently 440 pages. It’s ridiculous, I know, and I don’t know what the project will be, but I am so grateful for Mo. I know I’m a mother, and I love being a mother, but around her I am not a mother. I’m just me again. A friend said I should call the book or whatever it’s going to be: 23 and Me and Mo.

Could you talk about your dual life as director of Creative Writing in Birmingham as well as a working author, teacher, and mother in Los Angeles?

I’ve been living this unplanned dual two-state life since 2009. I wrote an essay about making the decision to accept a tenure track teaching job in Birmingham, Alabama, and living on an air mattress for a while. I came alone the first year; the second year, my sixth-grade daughter, Norah, joined me and she was like a little cultural anthropologist. She came home from school the first day and said, “We played the name game and we had to say what we liked. And all the kids said they liked only Auburn or Alabama. I know they like their state and ‘auburn’ is a very pretty color, but what I am supposed to choose? When it was my turn, I said, ‘I’m Norah and I like books.’” I realized I had given the child no information about Alabama, so we had a crash course in football so she could catch up. Whenever I hinted at wanting to return to Los Angeles, she would say, “You can go be with Daddy. I like it here. I love it here. All my friends are here. Alabama is great!”

When I realized we were in it for the long haul, we got a rescue dog, Olive, who flies back and forth with me to Los Angeles. I had a terrible flight before we got Olive, awful soul-sucking turbulence, and Norah thought I was crying out “Hell Mary’s” instead of “Hail Mary’s.” After the trip, I vowed to drive or take the train, but it only took a four-day train ride from Los Angeles to Birmingham sitting up in coach class to get me back in the air. Then I got Olive. She has rescued me in countless ways every single day. And she truly is my emotional support animal on planes, along with the occasional emotional support Bloody Mary or glass of red wine.

I love my job as the director of Creative Writing at UAB. I love my students. I learn from them all the time. They come from all walks of life and many of them are first-generation college or they are returning to college later in life. I do miss living with my husband, who has four more years until he retires from LAUSD, but we get to spend summers and holidays together. We also cook and watch movies together. We do this by saying, “One-Two-Three — Go!” and then we hit play at the same time and mostly we’re in sync on Netflix. And because he is a wonderful man, he also goes to visit Mo, and we all have dinner and Skype together.

Our son is in Los Angeles, our middle daughter is in Chicago, and our youngest lives in the dorm at UAB. During the academic year, I live with Olive in what I call my “Alabama Retreat House.” Lots of sweet students and kind faculty drop by from time to time and other friends, too. Birmingham is such a cool city — a bright blue dot in a big red state. One of my L.A. friends visited, and she looked around the house and said, “You’ve created a little Echo Park in Birmingham.” I have filled the place with books and art from mostly “Studio by the Tracks,” where adults on the autism spectrum make art. Started by Ila Faye Miller in what used to be an old gas station, it’s a fantastic studio located in Fannie Flagg’s old neighborhood of Irondale.

I’m currently working on three novels — two are children’s books and one is for adults. I’ve adapted Offsides into a play, and I’m writing a little poetry and always picture books. I am thrilled that Ernestine’s Milky Way, written in this Alabama Retreat House and edited in a 1910 bungalow in Echo Park, has found a home at Schwartz & Wade.

What are your thoughts about the MFA Creative Writing programs these days?

I think they’re valuable because they allow students to find their people. I didn’t find my people in an MFA program, because I was the only student in my program at the time. However, I kind of made my own MFA with a writing group in Los Angeles — we met for 15 years, regularly. Those writers are still some of my dearest friends. I’ve also joined an online group of children’s picture book authors, who are brilliant, and a wonderful local group here of smart women writers. I find I need the feedback and connection with other writers — a kind of forest-for-the-trees thing with all the teaching I do. We also show up and support each other when our books come out.

That is the most valuable aspect to me of the MFA program — finding our people and getting to teach upon graduation. I feel incredibly fortunate to have taught in both a traditional BA and MA program here at UAB and a low-residency MFA program at Antioch University in Los Angeles.

What’s the most important thing you relay to your students?

I hope I encourage my students to trust themselves — to know that they do have a story to tell. I use play in the classroom (storyboarding and making book dummies) and I get them to take risks or chances with writing sparks, exploring narratives. I also talk about the importance of showing up for each other when success comes along. In other words, go to the reading, buy the book, go to the play — it’s such a long and lonely road to go alone, so I encourage them to cheer each other along the way and offer a hand. It’s so much better than being competitive and harboring jealousy.

Of course, it’s natural to feel envy, but I have been so fortunate to have friends who show up and are genuinely pleased, and I hope I do the same for them. I encourage my students to be good literary citizens and also to spend less time online. I offer the advice I need to listen to myself, especially when I fall into the online rabbit hole.

Can you tell us about your love of picture books and children’s literature?

I read to our three kids all the time. My son’s favorite book was Where the Wild Things Are. I even read that book last year to a group of incarcerated men at Donaldson Maximum Security Prison who had never been read aloud to before. I wrote an essay about that experience.

Anyway, I loved reading to our children when they were small, and my husband was a fantastic reader, too. I used to seek out books with great writing and stories. I hid the Berenstain Bears from the kids because I hated books where we had to learn a lesson. I never really thought of writing for kids because I was writing plays and novels for grown-ups. But I began falling in love with stories like Swamp Angel by Anne Isaacs, and anything by William Steig. The kids loved Chris Van Allsburg, as did I, and of course we loved Eric Carle, Margaret Wise Brown, Ruth Krauss, Roald Dahl, Ann Whitford Paul, Cynthia Voigt, Eve Bunting, Jacqueline Woodson, and Lane Smith’s The Happy Hocky Family. There are too many to begin to even name. One of their favorites was “What Luck A Duck” by Amy Goldman Koss, who later became a friend.

We read stacks of books, and as they grew older, they began to tell me what books to read. My son, Flannery, begged me to read The Giver and The Phantom Tollbooth. My daughter, Lucy, fell in love Laurie Halse Anderson’s book, Speak. She wasn’t a huge reader at the time, but she liked that book a lot and said after school one day, “Mom, I felt like reading it at the lunch-table with all my friends around. What it is up with that?”

I read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn out loud to them and we watched the movie together. Norah used to have a little shelf of books in the minivan, because she was terrified of finishing one and not having another at hand. She used to ask me, “Can I bring three books?” and I would say, “You may bring them, but I am not carrying them.” When we moved to a different house a few years ago, we donated 20 boxes of books and it still has not made a dent in all the books we have.

Tim Cummings holds an MFA from Antioch University Los Angeles. His recent work has appeared in F(r)iction, Lunch Ticket, Meow Meow Pow Pow, From Whispers to Roars, Critical Read, and LARB.

The post Echo Park in Birmingham: An Interview with Kerry Madden-Lunsford appeared first on Los Angeles Review of Books.

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hellosaltysaladcollectionstuff · 6 years ago

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TIM CUMMINGS: Where did you grow up?

How did you come to writing?

Who are your greatest influences?

Could you talk about your dual life as director of Creative Writing in Birmingham as well as a working author, teacher, and mother in Los Angeles?

What are your thoughts about the MFA Creative Writing programs these days?

What’s the most important thing you relay to your students?

Can you tell us about your love of picture books and children’s literature?

Tim Cummings holds an MFA from Antioch University Los Angeles. His recent work has appeared in F(r)iction, Lunch Ticket, Meow Meow Pow Pow, From Whispers to Roars, Critical Read, and LARB.

The post Echo Park in Birmingham: An Interview with Kerry Madden-Lunsford appeared first on Los Angeles Review of Books.

from Los Angeles Review of Books https://ift.tt/2CMGjGb

#Blogger

0 notes