#i love farms i used to have a friend who lived near one and we would run around the cow paddock

[whereispearlescentmoon]

My thoughts on Billy are this:

Pearl has no named pet in Last Life. She had a wolf army but only two survived with her to the final fight, she didn’t react very much when they died, and she never named any of them. She used them to great effect for killing, however, which is a lesson she would bring with her into DL. She did utilize them to help Ren kill Cleo, which… cycles and all that. “We want to kill Cleo and then we can reconnect the three Gs” lives in my head rent free. The only other pet she has is her two axolotls, which she does not name and both of which Joel kills.

I don’t know that Pearl has ever really connected to an animal the way she connected to Tilly because she hasn’t been alone since Double Life. Tilly was her lifeline because she was all Pearl had. She was her soulmate because no one else wanted her. She was the only living being who Pearl could rely on. And both times losing her were devastating to Pearl. The first time, it kicked off the Scarlet Pearl arc, and the second time it spurred on her rampage towards Impulse and Bdubs, and Cleo and Martyn. She had her wolf pack because when you can’t count on allies to fight beside you, to protect you and want you to live, you have to be able to count on something.

This is in contrast to every series since, where Pearl has largely kept her animals tucked away in her base and where her pets have been more important in the way they help her interact with other players than anything.

The first thing Pearl says to Froggy is, “I found you! Hello! This is gonna be my friend of the season, in animal form”, because she wanted to be prepared in case she was alone again. And then said “You are my love. If you die, I don’t know what I would do,” because again, she was thinking about what happened after Tilly’s first death. She was preparing to need animal companionship in lieu of players, but then she found BigB.

Froggy stayed at the bottom of that pit trap for the rest of the series if I remember correctly, and Pearl hardly ever moved her from that one corner of the tower even before that. Why? Because she had BigB to bounce off of, and because, frankly, cats just aren’t as useful as wolves in Minecraft. You don’t get a cat for protection, unless you’re really that scared of creepers. Pearl wanted a companion from Froggy, not a warrior. She didn’t want to risk losing something dear again, so when Froggy falls into the pit trap that kills Pearl, that she herself set, she leaves her at the bottom.

Mailbox and Matchbox were closer to the kind of companionship she had with some of the wolves in DL, but certainly not Tilly level. And again, she didn’t want to risk losing them, which is why they stayed tucked under her base near the skeleton farm. It’s why her main concern when the wither and the warden were out was to get three things underground: Matchbox, Mailbox, and Bdubs. She didn’t want to lose any of them.

However, the most important thing about her wolves in SL, to me, is how they affected her interactions with other players. For one, they were the catalyst for the “Pupper Alliance” with Cleo. Pearl doesn’t play the social game, so she often takes alliances in situations of when you can materially help each other, rather than out of friendliness. Needing bones to tame wolves gave her a material reason to ally with Cleo. It also meant that we got yet another Cleo and Pearl betrayal when Cleo killed some of Pearl’s wolves later on. The other is something Pearl actually said in her episode today. She knows how powerful a wolf army is, it’s a large part of how she won Doible Life. Which is why when it came down the wire, because she had no intentions of winning, she left Matchbox and Mailbox at home and sat down her wolves so they wouldn’t hurt Gem. That was Scar’s kill, his fight with Gem. It’s probably the most literal example of her wolves taking a backseat to her companionship with other players.

In Real Life, she was just doing it as a joke and because she wanted to pet a Minecraft wolf in VR (which I respect so hard) and thus I have no analysis lol.

As for this season, it seems like Pearl’s theme this whole season has been “trying to live up to what people think I am, even though I’m not that anymore”. It’s why it’s kind of funny that she keeps trying to do the cool Scarlet Pearl killer thing and failing miserably. And it’s why when she comes across the wolf in episode one, she goes out of her way to not only tame it, but name it something so close to Tilly (yes I know she was likely also playing into the Tilly Milly thing). But just like with Froggy and just like with Matchbox and Mailbox, her main priority is keeping them safe, not with using them to win. She doesn’t want to win, she’s here to have fun!

Losing Billy isn’t devastating to Pearl because, unlike in DL or LimL, she doesn’t really need the wolves for emotional support, and unlike in LL, DL, or SL, she had no intention of making a dog army because she has no intention of placing high. Pearl has literally said she wants to see a top four of people who haven’t made top four before (and Impulse lol), which as the only person who’s ever made top four in all of her seasons (4th, 1st, 4th, 2nd), is a pretty big tell. She was trying to keep him safe by not moving him, but like she said to Joel, everything dies in the Life Series.

I would also like to point out, Pearl has only ever named two of her pets entirely on her own, Matchbox and Milly. Martyn named Tilly because she had accidentally trampled some wheat (tilling, get it?) She named Froggy after the frogs that BigB had said were his family, because Froggy was hers. Mailbox, if I’m remembering, was a Bdubs idea. Matchbox was only named because Pearl kept accidentally calling Mailbox Matchbox so she decided to just name one of her other wolves. Milly was a joke that Pearl came up with. And Billy was Cleo’s suggestion. To quote Pearl when she found Froggy, “I don’t know what I’m gonna call you yet. We’ll find out. You know usually we kinda figure these things out when we go talk to somebody,”

[kandidandi]

ive been thinking of a farm au of sun and moon, what do you think?

OOOH YESS what kind of farm would they have i wonder? corn, livestock, flowers?? i think it sounds nice!!

[fanficforlife]

Chapter Ten

Tate came bounding out onto the porch where you and Kayce were enjoying a cup of coffee. "I'm done. Can we go now?"

"Did you finish all of your breakfast?" Kayce asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." Tate groaned before grabbing your hand. "Can we go now?"

You downed the last gulp of coffee and smiled at him. "I see you already have my purse so yes, we can go."

"Gator gave me the card and list for shopping."

Kayce took your empty mug from you before the two of you stood up. "You do know that it's grocery shopping, right bud?"

"Yeah. But, Violet said she gets the vegetables from the farmers market and that there are people there that make chocolates and another one that makes ice cream and-"

"I get it." Kayce chuckled as he handed you the keys to his truck. When you took them he slid his arm around your waist. "I gotta get to work. Have fun with the rugrat."

"Now's the part where you kiss. I'll be in the truck." 

You giggled while Tate ran down the steps. "I'll see you later."

"Yes, you will." Your boyfriend leaned in and kissed you long and tenderly. "Stay with me tonight."

"If you're lucky." You teased, knowing full well that you would. Since you two had started having sex, you couldn't get enough of him. And, vice versa. He made you enjoy it again after years of dreading it. He made you feel safe and loved like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. It was the best sex you've ever had. It was like you finally found your other half. He was the missing piece that fits your heart perfectly and he felt it too. He couldn't get enough of just being near you. 

He knew you would be there and grinned. "Have a good day, baby."

"You too." You rose on your toes and kissed him. "Love you."

"Love you more." 

"Violet!" 

You and Kayce laughed at his impatient son. "Gotta go. See you later." He squeezed your waist before you slipped out of his grasp. 

*

"Oh! Look at that one!" Tate tugged on your arm as he pointed to a booth that was selling cakes of all sizes, decorated in every coloured icing under the sun. 

"Wow. Those are fancy."

"I think we should stick with cookies."

You chuckled. "I think you're right. Those look like a lot of work."

"There's the vegetable ones." Tate grabbed your hand before pulling you past the baking stalls towards the fruit and vegetables. "That one has apples! Can we get some and make apple pie? Oh, and muffins? And-"

"Yes, we can get your favourite fruit. We'll have to get a box of them because I don't think one of the bags will be enough for all of the baking you want to do." You laughed and went to wait in line. The large, well-stocked stand was the one you always went to and not because it was run by two good-looking men around your age.  They weren't just one of the sweetest couples you had ever met, they were your only friends who didn't live on the ranch. Not that you went on double dates or anything. It was just nice to have a conversation about something other than cows or horses occasionally.

"Violet!" The blue-eyed one grinned when he saw you. 

"Hi, Chris." You smiled at the dark-haired man. 

"It looks like I didn't beat the rush this time."

"No, you didn't." Mark, the blonde with green eyes, answered after coming over having finished with a customer. "But, we saved a box of the best back here for ya just in case. Aside from a couple of local restaurants, the ranch is one of our biggest customers. We gotta keep ya happy."

You laughed. "You two spoil us. Speaking of us, this is Tate. Tate this is Chris and Mark. They grow the best fruit and vegetables in Montana."

"Hi, do you have any more apples?"

"Sorry, but that was the last of them," Chris said of the case the woman in front of you was carrying away. 

Disappointment filled Tate's face. "Awe, we can't make pie and muffins tomorrow."

"We do have more on the farm though." Mark smiled at the little boy. "I'll make you a deal. I'll drop off some apples for you later today if you promise to bring us some baking next time you're in town."

"Really?!"

Chris chuckled. "Really."

You placed a hand on Tate's shoulder and looked at them. "You don't have to do that. We can get some next week."

"It's no problem at all. We don't have any other plans. A drive will be nice."

"Please, Violet?"

Your eyes went back to them and they nodded. "Okay."

"Yay! Oh, are you going to have pumpkins in the fall that we can carve?"

"We will," Chris said while Mark went to help a customer. "You can come out and pick the perfect one. We're also going to have a corn maze and other games. Plus, apple cider and all kinds of treats in the little shop on the farm." 

"Oh Violet, can we go?" Tate tugged on your arm. "Dad can come and we could do the maze and play all the games and try all the treats. Then we can get pumpkins to make Jack-o'-lanterns!"

A chuckle left your lips. "I think we can arrange that."

"Yay!" The brown-haired boy turned back to the dark-haired farmer. "Violet's dad's girlfriend. He really loves her, like a lot. All he does is stare at her when she's around."

"Tate." You scolded while Chris laughed. 

Tate looked up at you with a grin. "It's true." 

A light shade of red stained your cheeks as you pulled the credit card out of your bag. "Thanks for the vegetables. Tate, we better get moving. We have to stop at the grocery store next."

"Can we stop and get chicken nuggets for lunch after?"

"I think I could go for a burger."

"Yay!" 

"And, thank you for dropping the apples off later. You've made one little boy very happy."

"You are more than welcome. See ya, Violet. It was nice meeting you, Tate." Chris smiled. 

"Bye. I can take your bag for you." Tate offered so you handed it to him. After picking up the box of vegetables, you headed back to the truck. 

*

"You look amazing, like always." Chris grinned after getting out of his truck. "One of the restaurants in town looking for some vegetables." He said of Mark who was still buckled in and talking on his cell phone. 

"What the fuck?!" Kayce, who had been standing by the barn with Rip and Lloyd, pushed passed them and stormed over. 

You blushed while he pulled you into a hug. "Thanks."

"Get your fucking hands off her." Kayce yanked him away from you and punched him. 

"Kayce!"

He ignored you and hit him again. "You're not very bright, are you? Hitting on her when I'm standing right there!" 

"Kayce, stop!" You begged but he ignored you.

"I didn't-"

"Don't fucking lie to me! I heard you. I saw you!" He tackled Chris to the ground. "Stay the fuck away from her!" 

"Kayce. Kayce!" Rip called as he and Lloyd came running over and pulled him off of Chris. 

John came out onto the porch when he heard the commotion. "What the hell is going on out here?"

"This asshole was all over Violet!" Kayce pulled against Rip and Lloyd trying to get free. 

"No, he wasn't." You had tears in your eyes as you and Mark, who had just finished his call, helped Chris up. "I met him at the farmers market a couple of months ago. Tate saw the apples he was selling this morning and wanted some, but the person in front of us got the last of them. They had more at the farm and were nice enough to drop some off."

Kayce's face went white. The two farm hands let him go and his shoulders slumped. "Letty, I-"

"I'm sorry, Chris. I'm so sorry." 

"It's okay." He said with a soft smile. "I'll grab them. They're just in the back."

John came down the steps. "I'm sorry for my son's behaviour. We'll get them." He nodded to Rip and he went over and grabbed the box of apples out of the truck box. 

You handed Chris the money you owed him. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"The apples look great." John held his hand out and Chris shook it. When they parted, the farmer found a hundred-dollar bill in his hand. He was about to hand the money back but John stopped him. "No, I insist. I'm sorry again and so is my son."

"Y-yeah. I'm sorry." Kayce apologized quietly. 

Chris nodded at him before giving your arm a squeeze. Mark did the same before they got in their truck.

The second they started driving away Kayce started walking up to you. "Letty."

You stepped back when he reached out for you, memories of Nick and his jealousy filling your head. "Gator wanted me to tell you that dinner's ready." A stray tear slid down your cheek as you turned and went inside. 

*

Everyone walked into the dining room while you set the last dish of food on the table. They sat down, joining Tate who had been upstairs washing his hands. 

You picked your plate and cutlery up off the table. "Hey, where are you going? Aren't you eating with us?" Tate asked. When his summer holidays started he insisted you start eating with them. The rest of the family had agreed so Tate picked your spot at the table, between him and Kayce.

"I'm not hungry. I'm going to get a head start on cleaning up so the kitchen will be ready for pie making tomorrow." He let out a cheer and you gave him a small smile before disappearing into the kitchen. 

After setting your clean dishes down, you gripped the edge of the countertop. Your mind was a mess as you stared at your reflection in the window. The darkening evening sky made it easy to see Kayce walk into the room. 

"Letty."

Your eyes went to your hands as he slowly made his way over, stopping behind you. 

"Letty, I'm sorry. I just heard him-then he touched you and-"

"I would never cheat on you." You stated quietly while continuing to stare at your fingers, which turned white from their grip on the countertop. 

"I know you wouldn't. I just...I'm scared." His hand hesitantly reached out, his fingers running down your arm. When you didn't pull away he closed the distance. "I'm scared you're going to find someone better. You're perfect and I'm...me. I have anger issues. I'm trying and failing at raising my kid. I love you so much it scares me. Tate loves you." His other hand went to your other arm and he leaned in, resting his forehead against the top of your head. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll do whatever you want me to. Please, forgive me."

You turned to face him. Your eyes didn't meet his though, they watched your fingers as they came up and fidgeted with one of the buttons on his shirt. 

"Letty?"

"Please...please, don't turn into him."

His hands came up and cupped your face. When he tilted it up he saw the tears pooling in your eyes. "Never, baby. Never." He leaned in and kissed you as a few tears spilled over. "I'll work on it, getting angry, jealous. I promise." You nodded. "And, I'll go into town tomorrow and apologize to him again."

A small smile pulled at your lips as you nodded again. "You should go eat before it gets cold."

"You're not going to?"

"I'm not that hungry. I'll grab something later."

"I'll grab something later too then. Do you want to wash or dry?" He grinned and picked up a dish towel. 

"Well, since you already have the towel, I'll wash." You turned and started filling the sink with water. Kayce's arm slid across your stomach and pulled you back against him. You stayed like that until the sink was full. 

After turning the tap off, he held you tighter. "I really am sorry."

"I know." Your hands slid across his arms before hugging them. "Chris and Mark know too. A few weeks ago when I saw them at the grocery store. We went for coffee while they were waiting to go to an appointment. They're really nice and they've heard about you and your family, the ranch. They know that you were in the Navy and about how much I mean to you." You looked at him in the reflection. "Mark used to be in the army so he knows that PTSD can affect you in different ways."

"Getting angry...I'm trying."

You leaned into him, "I know. You're doing a lot better."

"Except when it comes to you. What you've been through, your ex..." there was a tick in his jaw. "I promised to never let anything happen to you again. I just take it too far sometimes. I'm working on it. I really am trying."

You turned in his arms and wrapped yours around his neck. "I can tell. Everyone here can." Your lips pressed against his. "Now let's get these dishes done."

"Yes, ma'am." He said when you went back to facing the sink. He didn't move though. 

When his lips brushed against the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, you giggled. "Kayce."

He smiled against your skin. "Yes?"

"It's going to be pretty hard for you to dry these pots when you're standing there."

"I suppose you're right." His teeth gently nipped at the delicate spot and a small moan left your lips. He quickly spun you, crashing his lips against yours. When he pulled away the smirk that you loved spread across his face. 

You shoved him away with a giggle before focusing on washing the pots and pans Gator used to make dinner. Kayce settled in next to you, drying the dishes you set in front of him. A comfortable silence filled the room, only broken up by the conversations and laughter going on in the dining room. 

*

Once the dishes were done and dinner had been cleaned up, you went to the foreman's house. Tate had wanted to go to bed, even though there were still forty-five minutes before his usual bedtime. He was beyond excited about making pie for the first time and wanted to go to bed early so tomorrow would be here sooner. While Kayce tucked him into bed and read him a story, you went to wait for him in his bedroom. 

"Baby?"

You could hear the door shut behind him so, after turning the water off for the bathtub, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but one of his shirts. 

His eyes slowly drank you in. "Damn, you look good." 

A light shade of red crept across your cheeks as he closed the distance between you in two long strides. You unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders to the floor, followed quickly by his jeans. All while your lips stayed glued to his. 

His hands ran up your thighs and when he got to your hips they paused, finding no underwear to pull down. He smirked against your mouth before picking you up and carrying you to bed. 

"Mmm," you hummed as he kissed his way down your neck. Your hands found his waist and started to tug on the waistband of his boxers. 

After what he said to you in the kitchen about not turning into your ex and knowing he meant it, you needed him. And, he needed you just as bad. Once his boxers were down far enough he thrust into you. You gasped at the sudden fullness and when he did it again your eyes closed. "Oh, god."

His teeth bit down on your shoulder as he continued to move in and out of you. It wasn't long before your back started to arch off the bed as he kept hitting just the right spot over and over again. As you started to fall over the edge his lips met yours, swallowing your breathy moan and you melted into each other, falling together. 

Once your racing heartbeat returned normal, you slid out from under him and got off the bed. 

"No," he groaned and grabbed your hand. "I mean, the view is amazing but..." Your cheeks darkened and he grinned, sliding to the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. "God, you're adorable."

"Stop." You turned and buried your face into his shoulder while the shade of red on your cheeks got even brighter. 

"Never," his chest vibrated with a chuckle. 

"Come have a bath with me?"

"I'm not much of a bath person but if you're in there with me I think I can make an exception. Lead the way, beautiful."

You slid your hand into his and made your way into the bathroom. "When I filled it I used scalding water so it should have cooled off enough by now." He got into the still bubbly water and you sunk across from him, closing your eyes. 

"Letty?"

"Hmm?" You opened your eyes when he stayed quiet. "Hey," after seeing his glassy eyes you went over and straddled his lap, taking his face in your hands, "what is it? What's wrong?"

"Why- I keep fucking up but you keep staying. You are goddamn perfect and could easily get any man you wanted. Why do you stay with me? After what happened before dinner-"

Seeing him so down made your heartache. "Because you are an amazing man and an even better father. Kayce, Tate looks up to you more than you know. He always talks about how much fun he has when he gets to help you around the ranch. He wants to be the foreman just like you when he grows up." Your thumbs ran along his jaw. "You went through a lot in the Navy, saw a lot. It changes a person. I didn't know you before you enlisted. I know you now. I fell in love with the man who came back from the war, with who you are today." He looked down, still ashamed. You tilted his head back so he would look at you. "You make me happy. You make me feel safe. There is no one else in the world I would rather be with. We can and we will get through anything. I love you, Kayce." 

"I am not worthy of you." 

A smile formed, "It's a good thing you're wrong and I'm right."

"You think so?" He finally smiled back, a small one but it was still there.

"I know so."

His arms engulfed you and crushed you against him. "I love you, Violet."

"I know. I love you." When he let you go you slid back to your spot. "Do you have a lot of work to do tomorrow? Tate wants to make pie and muffins. Mark and Chris said they would drop the apples off in exchange for some baking." 

"The farmers market is done at 2:00 pm, I'll have my stuff done by then. The three of us could go into town. Maybe go for coffee with them after? Tate keeps talking about the new playground they built by the farmers market."

You smiled, "Tate would love that. Chris and Mark would too." 

He nodded before finally lying back and relaxing, his fingers going back to mindlessly running up and down your knee. "I could get used to this. It's actually pretty nice." 

"I told you it wasn't that bad."

"You're right again." His crooked smile formed.

You watched him as he closed his eyes and rested his head back, admiring not only how handsome he was but how great of a person he was. Most men wouldn't have talked about their feelings like he did let alone go have coffee and talk to the man they just attacked. Whether he believed it or not, he was an amazing man and you were the luckiest woman in the world.

___________________________________________

Tag List: @alisbackalleybbq @a-beaverhausen @chloe-skywalker @wabi-sabi1090 @saintnourah

If you want to be added to the list just let me know :)

[banquetwriter]

୨୧ distant love pt: 2 ୨୧

pairing: Rick Grimes ♡︎ fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ canon typical violence, Rick is low-key a cheater (not on reader tho), not beta read we die like Carl

summary: ʚ basically a filler chapter from the CDC to the prison post-Woodburyɞ

Words: 2002

An: hey babies I wrote this on my phone again 😔 also i haven’t seen the earlier seasons in a very long time so mb if it’s not exactly accurate 😔😔

Part 1 Part 3

SUPPORT ME

You and Rick had kept your distance most of the morning. Looking at Shane’s black eye. “Dad, are you hungover? Mom said you would be.” Carl asks as Rick sits down at the table. You let yourself stifle a giggle at the kids' antics. Rick being drunk last night would explain his forward-ness.

You followed the group after breakfast as Jenner explained what exactly was happening to everyone. Why would the dead rise?

You watched as the x-ray video’s corpse re-animated. God that was scary. What was scarier was Jenner locking the doors. You covered your mouth as tears streamed down your face. “Oh my god.” you whimpered out.

You were going to die. You of course found yourself turning to Rick. Who was holding his wife and child? Your heart sinks.

Of course, he would be with them. You were a sidepiece. Why would he protect you? Care for you? He made his choice. It was one that you're going to have to be ok with. Even if you weren't going to live very long.

That's when the doors opened and Rick screamed for everyone else to get their stuff. You ran as fast as you could to escape. Avoiding the shards of glass that spilled everywhere Rick threw the explosive at the glass.

Your eyes rest on Lori and Rick as they sit in the front of the camper. You weren't sure how you could have ever found a real relationship with him. You think back to Lori’s words. Trying to push the two of you together. Your heart burned for her.

How low was she that she wanted her husband to sleep with another woman? You suppose she felt guilty for her and Shane being together. This was a different thought, wasn't it? Rick said he loved you. You weren't sure how much of that you believed.

It was you who saw the way Rick was after Otis accidentally shot Carl. It was you who hugged him, feeling his arms search for a sign that his boy was still alive. It was Rick who begged you to stay with him.

You wanted to, you really did. But that would have been inappropriate and unfair to Carl. This could very well be his last night alive. He shouldn't be confused about why you were there.

You see the color leave his face as he donates more and more blood to his son. Trying to comfort his wife but his eyes linger on your figure unfaithfully. Your curves would comfort him. Your soft skin and happy smiles. That's what he fell for.

He wished this wasn't the way it was. He wished he had met you instead of Lori. Marrying the first girl he could. I mean he did love Lori. As the mother of his children, he would always hold a place for her. She just wasn't you, was she?

You on the other hand shoved your feelings down, deeper than the Mariana trench. Trying to help keep the camp outside on Hershel's Farm going. Doing menial tasks like laundry or cooking. Offering to clean any weapons the group needed youto.

Trying to comfort Lori at every turn, silently becoming almost like a best friend to her. Holding her shoulders as if to say you're sorry for screwing her husband.

You used to help go on runs with Glenn and Maggie until you found them shaking up in the convenience store. It was cute to see young love budding, but seeing them naked was not something you were down to see again.

It made you jealous to see them so in love. You wished you and Rick could be that way. But alas, that's not what life has in store for you. Love. What a joke. A nimbly fickle thing.

You kept a good amount of distance between you and Shane. Not daring to go near him. One night you sat around the campfire with lori and carol. It had been a long day of playing catch-up with chores since Lori had been helping Carl rehabilitate.

“Alright girls, I'm off to bed,” Carol says with a tight-lipped smile. You and Lori talked a little bit about Glenn and Maggie.

“Y/n?” she asks looking up at you. Her gaunt and skinny face looks more and more malnourished these days. “Mm?” you ask, looking at her. “I-I know how he looks at you.” her voice barely above a whisper. You lick your lips, shaking your head.

“Lori, stop,” you ask her. Pleading almost. “You can't keep doing this to yourself, he loves you-” You try to keep your voice down but your heart breaks. “Y/n I'm pregnant,” she says.

For a second your world stops. The fires crackles keeping you grounded. You opened your mouth, unable to say anything. The amount of possible words dying in your throat. “I want it to be Rick’s. I need it to be Rick's,” she says, tears spilling down her face.

Your hands slip up to your face covering it. You let out a low breath. This wasn't about you. This was about her. You think over and over again trying to calm down all the raging emotions going through you.

“Does anyone else know?” you ask slowly, she must be feeling a whirlwind of things none of which you were entitled to have an opinion on. “Glenn does, I needed him to go out n get the tests,” she whispers straightening out her shirt, raising her hand up to her mouth and biting her nails.

Lori is absolutely exhausted, and you know more than ever she should be resting. You stay silent noting that neither potential fathers know she is pregnant. “I don't know what I'm going to do, Glenn has been trying to take care of me.” She gives a pitiful smile.

Her face was tear-stained, the streaks illuminated by the fire. “Well you need prenatal care no doubt.” you said scooting closer to her, grabbing her hands. “I think telling everyone will be the best course of action, when…” you said, pulling her into a hug.

“When you're ready,” you mumble against her shoulder. She thanked you with a sad smile standing up. You didn't sleep well that night. Not that you ever did now. You thought about the women in the next tent over probably also not sleeping.

You thought about the baby that was currently draining her of her energy. You thought of Carl. Recovering from a gunshot wound at such a young age, probably confused and scared most of the time.

And of course you thought of the man also sleeping in that tent. The one that seemed to consume your every thought. You thought of him always. It was a shame. You wished you were Lori sometimes. Sleeping in his arms pregnant with a baby.

You physically shake your head to rid yourself of your selfish thoughts. You were scared of Shane, scared of your feelings for Rick, and scared for Lori.

You were scared of the way your heart wanted to leap out of your chest every time Rick tried to talk to you. The way his rough hands would touch the soft skin of your arms. “Rick…” you breathe out trying to shy away from the older man.

The way he would beg you to stay close to him, his hot breath tickling your neck at his closeness. “This isn't the right time Rick.” you would whisper, eyes flicking up to see his teary ones.

Dark almost permanent circles surrounded his eyes. You pull away from his grasp and run out of the Greene’s house. You stood by Daryl's side as you read him shitty books you found on runs trying to provide him an ounce of comfort as he recovers from the bullet wound that Andrea gave him.

And be would try and provide an ounce of that comfort to you as the barn full of walkers is discovered. Taking all of your willpower not to vomit at the smell. Turning away from the group. Allowing yourself a moment, just a moment of selfish comfort.

As Rick’s arms wrap around you. Breathing in his musky scent. The sounds of the guns firing off still ring in your head. “It's ok, you're going to be ok,” Rick mumbles in your ear. His hand clasped gently in the back of your neck.

As soon as the moment is here it's gone as you see Shane’s angry face peering at the both of you from a few feet away. Your face fills with embarrassment, you rip away from his embrace instead choosing to hug Carol who was sobbing over the loss of her daughter.

You spent the next few days in a constant state of dissasostivate numbness. Unable to feel anything other than fear. Seeing Rick and Shane keep a man locked up in the barn for fear of what he could do.

Even though your group was the one keeping him held, handcuffed, and bound. As soon as he goes missing it seems to bring you out of your state as Shane comes running with a broken nose claiming that the prisoner ran away.

You ran into the house with all the women. Fearing for what was next. Trying to hide in case he came back with his group. Seeing all the panic spread through the group as the barn is set on fire. The horde of walkers attacking your slice of peace.

You barely make it out with your lives. Reconnecting with your group on the highway with everyone. Once again seeing Rick’s eyes falling on you as he hugs you with his family. You turn away from him, finding comfort in Daryl's embrace.

You watched as Rick distended into madness and anger after killing Shane. Demanding that whatever he said went. This was not the man you fell in love with. This was not the human your body craved comfort from.

Revealing how his son had to be the one to put his best friend down after he turned into a walker. Which was bizzare you never took him for type to get bit or even scratched.

That's when Rick reveals the delicate information that you all carry the virus. A crucial piece of information that sends the group into a frenzy of anger. You felt very sick. How could he keep that from you? From the group?

It only went downhill from there. Rick and Lori are always fighting as she grows more and more pregnant. The sheriff was unable to hide his anger towards her. Constantly on the run, even once you find and fortify the prison, the Governor and all of his bullshit wreaks havoc on the group.

It's been 6 months since Woodbury fell, you had a big group. Full of amazing people. A decent farm and garden. Life was decent. Judith was a beautiful baby girl.

You sighed setting your pencil down in the crease of your sketchbook. You had picked it up on a run not too long ago, at first mostly making a few sketches and doodles to entertain Carl.

Although lately, you have been trying to work through your feelings through the pages of the book. Unfortunately, most of them were about Rick. You always observed him when he was working in the fields.

You could almost see the heat radiating off of him. His t-shirt is clinging to his sweaty body. To his strong sculpted muscles. Fuck. He was so hot.

It brought you back to those nights in the quarry. His rough hands gripped your soft flesh. Back arching as you slammed into him. Tongues slipping into each other's throats.

You lick your lips slightly admiring your drawing. It was of a man who looked suspiciously like Rick. His tired haunted face and sculpted body were barely covered. “Hey.” a southern voice took you away from your explicit drawing.

You look up to see the man in your drawing staring right back at you.

[lunaloveskpop23]

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Summary: The reader lives in a village that starts having werewolves at night and they tear up the village. What would happen when the werewolves never go near her family farm and the villagers want to sacrifice her to the werewolves?

Warning: cussing, angst, violence, mentions of blood, a character who gets wounded.

Genre: angst. fluff.

*PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK*

*THIS IS PURELY FICTION*

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Y/N's POV:

In a little village, there lived a girl who has always lived there with her family. They have a farm called Aurora farms. Named after her grandmother. She has two siblings, her younger brother Huening Kai and her older sister Rose.

Her and her older sister do not get along. But her and her brother get along. Her mom and dad are not that rich, but they farm for the market and she helps run the stan at the market.

They usually work near the bakery where her friends run. Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho. Hongjoong's mom opened the store after a general's daughter gave her the money.

Y/N is the girl. She is currently 22 helping her family out and she is currently at the stan trying to sell produce and vegetables.

*Now to the story*

"Thank you, have a wonderful day!" I sold my last tomato and I write that down.

"Get more tomatoes for the stan." I say to myself as I write.

"Y/N!" I look up and see Yeosang running up to me.

"Yeosang! Hi!" I hug him. I haven't seen him nor any of my other friends from the bakery in a while. I missed them.

"It's been awhile love. We made you something..." Yeosang pulls away and smiles at me. "Close your eyes."

I close my eyes happily. He takes my hands and I feel him putting something soft in my hands.

"Open love." I open my eyes and I gasp. It's their famous bread. I get so happy.

"Oh my god! Thank you!" I say happily.

"It's enough for your family. I know we haven't seen you in awhile and we miss you. So we decided to give you the famous bread."

I smile and blush. They are always so caring to me. I really loved them. I fell in love with them after being friends for 2 years. They've cared for me and even helped me at the stan sometimes. They make me feel loved and important.

"I appreciate it," I say softly.

"Do you need any help while I am here?" He asks me.

"Oh sure! Could you put the fix that over there?" I pointed towards a pile of boxes and one of the boxes was on the ground.

"As you wish, Y/N." He says softly. He picks up the box and sets it down on top of the boxes. "Like this?"

"Perfect! Thank you!"

"Y/N!!" I look up and see Rose, my sister. I fake a smile.

"Hi, sis! What brings you here?" I ask.

"Well, mom wants your help. She says one of the horses is acting weird." She says and looks at Yeosang. "Oh, hi Yeosang." She flutters her eyes.

Yeosang had a fake smile and clearly looked uncomfortable. "Um hi, Rose."

"I'll go check it out. Please stay at the stan until 5, ok?" I tell her.

"Ok, fine. Would you like to help me, Yeosang?"

"Um....." Yeosang looks uncomfortable again.

"Yeosang!" We turn and see Yunho and San run up to us.

"Sorry laddies, but we need Yeosang. It's his turn to bake some cakes." San says.

"Oh, that is totally ok, you can take him." I say and Yeosang smiles at me.

"Its good to see you, Y/N!" San and Yunho yell over their shoulder as they walk away.

Rose starts looking angry.

I take off my apron and set it down.

"They would never like someone like you, little sis," Rose says angry. She's always had a crush on them as well, but I'm closer to them and they always ignore her.

I roll my eyes. My sister, always had someone crushing on her. She is popular around the village and loves the attention. My friends are the first men who aren't giving her any attention and it makes her angry.

"Just get to work. I'm off to go see what is up with the horses." I put my hair up in a ponytail and leave.

"One day, I'll get you, little sis," Rose whispers to herself.

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I go to the barn and hear some of the horses going crazy.

"Woah woah woah, hey." I run up to my horse Firefly. I try to calm her down and it works.

"Shhh, what's wrong love?" I ask. After she calms down, every other horse starts settling down.

"They started freaking out after we heard rustling near the field." I look up and see my brother Kai.

"I wonder why they did?" I soothe Firefly.

"Mom says dinner is almost ready by the way," Kai says.

"Ok, I'll come in and help." I almost get up.

"Oh no, sis. It's ok! I already set everything up! You do not need to do anything." He says happily. I smile.

"Thanks, little brother." I smile. "Did Rose help at all?"

"No. All she did was sit and play with Lily." Lily is our dog.

"Really? And she got away with it?" I ask.

"I mean, she always does. She's so spoiled." He says angry.

"Well, let's just go inside." I say, standing up. He stands up and we go inside.

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*after dinner*

I nearly went to my room, until I hear my parents say something.

"Have you heard about Diana's farm?" My father ask.

"The one near the village?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"Well, her farm....apparently got destroyed by wild animals."

Wild animals? Near here?

"Wild animals??" My mother asks.

"Some people in the village are spreading that....it's werewolves."

I quietly gasp.

My mother laughs.

"Oh, come on. Werewolves? Those are just myths, honey."

I quietly run to my room. I shut my door silently. Werewolves? Do they actually exist?? What if they do?

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A few days later, the attacks on farms get worse. It started to become a problem with everyone. So the mayor planned a curfew for the entire village. But of course, people would still not listen and go out.

Like my sister. She wanted me and her to get apples. For pies to make for our father's birthday.

"I never understood why we are going now? It's dark!" I say angry.

"Its just a quick trip stupid. Just keep up." Rose says angry.

I sigh and we walk. We get there to the tree......but no apples.

"Damn! That bitch Violet must have gotten the apples!" She throws a fit.

"I'm sure there will be more soon. Let's just g-" I hear a growl. Oh no....

"No! There's a peach tree! Let's get some of-" I grab her hand. "Hey!!" She yells and we run.

We run and I hear something run behind us. I try not to look. Then I trip and fall.

"Owww..." I say. Rose doesn't look back. She's running still.

"ROSE WAIT!" I yell.

She has left me and I couldn't believe it....I look and see 8 werewolves. I get scared and back up to a tree.

One of the wolves came up to me and sniffed me. I try not to cry. It backs up and licks my face. I look at it confused. I look into the wolves eyes. It's brown.....why do those eyes feel familiar?? I look at the other wolves. They look at me and walk away. I get confused.

What just happened???

*a few minutes later*

I get home and I see Rose crying to our mom and dad.

"Then she says, "Go! Leave me here. I'll sacrifice myself for you!" She says dramatically.

"At least you are alive, my dear." My mom says happy and hugging her.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"Sis! You're alive!" Kai says happily and hugs me. I hug him.

My mom, dad, and sister looks at me. I look at them.

"Rose....you left me there..."

"No. I never did. You just don't remember sweet sister. You're being delusional." She says while petting my hair.

I slap her hand away and go upstairs. I slam my door and go to my bed. I cry for what felt like hours. I hear a rock at my window....can people leave me alone?!

I get up and look out the window. I see my friends....I haven't seen them in a while. Well, besides Yeosang, San and Yunho. I open my window.

"Why are you guys here?" I whisper.

"We wanted to make sure you are ok! We heard about the creatures going towards farms and we wanted to make sure you and your farm is ok!" Seonghwa says sweetly.

I smile. They always cared. What I noticed about them was that their clothes were a bit dirty and there was some blood on their clothes. Odd? They are bakers....I don't think about it anymore.

"Everything is OK. I promise." I tell them. They smile at me.

"Want us to come up there, princess?" Mingi says. I blush and shake my head. Him and Yeosang always flirt. Wooyoung too. Well, all of them actually.

"No, it's ok! Just go home. Everything is OK. I promise." I say trying to give them encouragement.

They nod and wave to me, bye. At least them and Kai cared.

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*the next night*

Mayor's POV:

"Sir, someone is here to see you." A guard says. I signal him to let the person in. It's a woman.

"How may I help you"

"Well, I have an idea to help get rid of the werewolf situation." The woman looks familiar to me.

"Oh? And who are you to give me ideas?"

"I'm Rose. Rose L/N."

I stop. The Aurora farms oldest daughter?

"My idea would guarantee us safety." She says.

"Go on?"

"Well, I know for a fact that my sister is a witch and that the wolves like her. She didn't even die when they were in front of her."

I get quiet.

"So, we sacrifice her. To the wolves."

*the next morning. Back to Y/N's POV*

Y/N's POV:

The mayor asked for a meeting with the village.

"I would like to let everyone know that we have an idea to get rid of the werewolves. We will sacrifice a witch."

Everyone gasps.

"A witch?!" Someone says.

"In our village?!" People start to freak out.

"Silence now! We will call the witch up and she'll go with my guards to the woods and wait until the werewolves can find her. Will....Ms. Y/N L/N come up here."

Everyone looks at me and I stay silent. A witch? Me?!

I nearly start crying, but i walk slowly up there.

"Everyone, look at the witch! Say goodbye!" The Mayor says.

Ateez's POV:

"What's going on?" Hongjoong and her friends come up whispering because they are confused. They forget to wake up early and they see a meeting happening.

"A witch is getting sacrificed to the werewolves." Someone whispers to them.

"A witch?" Seonghwa says confused.

They get closer and see.....Y/N?

"Y/N?!" Jongho says angry.

They knew she wasn't a witch. They were confused what was happening.

They all get angry and Mingi and San nearly go up there to punch the mayor.

"Guys, hold them." Hongjoong says and hold them.

"We need to keep calm. Please! No one cause a sc-" Mingi gets free and stomps up there.

"Oh no." Yeosang and Jongho run after him.

Mingi goes up.

"Hey, you're not allowed to get close to the sacr-" mingi punches him.

Jongho grabs mingi.

"Ahh Hongjoong and his team of lazy bakers. How humble for you to see this." The Mayor says.

"Let her go asshole!" Mingi yells.

"But she is a witch. She'll be sacrificed to the wolves. Everything will be back to normal!" The Mayor says.

Hongjoong grabs mingi as well.

"What you are doing is wrong. And you all are letting this happen! Because you believe such stupid rumors! Such cowards you all have become!" Hongjoong yells.

"Keep talking and you'll end up in jail. You and your group. Now, say your words to her."

We all look at Y/N. She's crying. We get close to her.

"Hongjoong?" She whispers.

Hongjoong bends down.

"We promise you. You will survive." Hongjoong whispers.

She sobs, and the guards take her away in a carriage.

They are mad and have to come up with an idea to save the woman they love.

"Hongjoong..." They turn to see her brother crying.

"Will she be ok?" Her brother cries out.

Seonghwa grabs him and gives him a hug.

"Shhhh she'll be OK. I promise." He rubs Kais back.

They had to come up with something fast. Before the moon......they become a different person....

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Y/N's POV:

I cry and get cold. It's officially nighttime, and I'm cold, hungry, and exhausted. Also extremely thirsty.

The group of guards laugh and surround my carriage.

"Its getting dark, sweetheart. They'll be here soon!" They laugh.

I stay silent. I hear a growl. I look up and see 4. Wait.....I thought there was 8?

"Ah! There's some! Here!" They open the door and grab me and throw me towards the wolves.

"She's all yours. No one in the village wants her. You can keep her. Or eat her!" The guard says happily.

I look up and the wolves look at me.

I get scared. The wolves start growling and starts walking towards the guards. I get confused and three of them go towards the guards. One stays near me.

I look at the werewolf confused. What is happening?

The guards stop laughing and start getting confused.

"Hey! She's the one you want! Not us!" The guy who threw me said.

The wolves start attacking the guards. The guards weren't putting up a fight besides one and he hurt one of the wolves and it lays on the ground. It starts transforming into....Mingi?

I get confused and think about it for a minute......they are the werewolves?!!! I look up at the one in front of me.

Who is this one?

"Mingi!" I yell to mingi, who is passed out. I start crying.

The werewolf who was next to him attacked the one who hurt Mingi.

The fight was over, and the werewolves transformed back into their human forms. San, Yunho, who attacked the guy who attacked Mingi and Yeosang, was the one in front of me.

"Yeossss-" I pass out.

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*a few hours later.*

I wake up and see San and Wooyoung cuddling me.

I get confused and look to see Seonghwa and Hongjoong in my room talking. They look at me.

"You're awake. Thank god!" Seonghwa says happily.

San and Wooyoung wake up. Yeosang was in the room and near my feet on my bed. Yunho and Jongho was in here too. By the wall.

"I'm sure you have questions." Hongjoong says.

I nod.

They explained everything. How a witched cursed them all after their fathers trashed her house and destroyed it. How they were scared to tell me and how it was them causing problems in the village.

I nod. Not knowing what to say.

"I know it's a lot to take in..." Yunho says.

"But we are still the same people you know and love." Wooyoung says.

I nod.

"Is Mingi ok?" I ask.

"He's ok. He just got hurt a little bit. He is sleeping." San whispers.

Thank God. I was worried about him.

"We wanted to protect you." Yeosang says.

I look at them all and blush.

"Thank you. For saving me.." I smile.

They smile back and all of them one at a time hug me gently. I feel kisses from them.

"I love you all so much." I say.

"We love you too. Always." Wooyoung says caressing my face gently. I blush.

"Now Woo, don't kiss her. Let her pick who she is kissing first!" San whines.

I giggle.

I love them.....my werewolves.

*fun little bonus scene.*

I walk and see Mingi awake. I gently walk in the bedroom. He looks up.

"Y/N!" He hugs me gently. I hug him.

"Mingi..." I snuggle into him.

Hw kisses my neck gently and kisses my face.

"I was scared. I thought I lost you, princess." He says. I pull his face.

"I'm ok. I promise." I say softly and I kiss him gently.

"Nooooooooooo!! Why did you kiss him?! I wanted to be the first you kiss!" Wooyoung whines. Seonghwa grabs him and shuts the door. I giggle. I'm so happy to have them in my life. I don't care that they are werewolves.

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Hi, my pookies!!!! How are you all doing? I hope doing well. I hope you guys are enjoying the Halloween stories. This was supposed to come out on Halloween, but it never did and I apologize. It has been a hectic week. I promise more stories are on the way. Just you wait. 🩷💜😊

- Luna 💜🩷

[bookshelf-in-progress]

A Wise Pair of Fools: A Retelling of “The Farmer’s Clever Daughter”

For the Four Loves Fairy Tale Challenge at @inklings-challenge.

Faith

I wish you could have known my husband when he was a young man. How you would have laughed at him! He was so wonderfully pompous—oh, you’d have no idea unless you’d seen him then. He’s weathered beautifully, but back then, his beauty was bright and new, all bronze and ebony. He tried to pretend he didn’t care for personal appearances, but you could tell he felt his beauty. How could a man not be proud when he looked like one of creation’s freshly polished masterpieces every time he stepped out among his dirty, sweaty peasantry?

But his pride in his face was nothing compared to the pride he felt over his mind. He was clever, even then, and he knew it. He’d grown up with an army of nursemaids to exclaim, “What a clever boy!” over every mildly witty observation he made. He’d been tutored by some of the greatest scholars on the continent, attended the great universities, traveled further than most people think the world extends. He could converse like a native in fifteen living languages and at least three dead ones.

And books! Never a man like him for reading! His library was nothing to what it is now, of course, but he was making a heroic start. Always a book in his hand, written by some dusty old man who never said in plain language what he could dress up in words that brought four times the work to some lucky printer. Every second breath he took came out as a quotation. It fairly baffled his poor servants—I’m certain to this day some of them assume Plato and Socrates were college friends of his.

Well, at any rate, take a man like that—beautiful and over-educated—and make him king over an entire nation—however small—before he turns twenty-five, and you’ve united all earthly blessings into one impossibly arrogant being.

Unfortunately, Alistair’s pomposity didn’t keep him properly aloof in his palace. He’d picked up an idea from one of his old books that he should be like one of the judge-kings of old, walking out among his people to pass judgment on their problems, giving the inferior masses the benefit of all his twenty-four years of wisdom. It’s all right to have a royal patron, but he was so patronizing. Just as if we were all children and he was our benevolent father. It wasn’t strange to see him walking through the markets or looking over the fields—he always managed to look like he floated a step or two above the common ground the rest of us walked on—and we heard stories upon stories of his judgments. He was decisive, opinionated. Always thought he had a better way of doing things. Was always thinking two and ten and twelve steps ahead until a poor man’s head would be spinning from all the ways the king found to see through him. Half the time, I wasn’t sure whether to fear the man or laugh at him. I usually laughed.

So then you can see how the story of the mortar—what do you mean you’ve never heard it? You could hear it ten times a night in any tavern in the country. I tell it myself at least once a week! Everyone in the palace is sick to death of it!

Oh, this is going to be a treat! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a fresh audience?

It happened like this. It was spring of the year I turned twenty-one. Father plowed up a field that had lain fallow for some years, with some new-fangled deep-cutting plow that our book-learned king had inflicted upon a peasantry that was baffled by his scientific talk. Father was plowing near a river when he uncovered a mortar made of solid gold. You know, a mortar—the thing with the pestle, for grinding things up. Don’t ask me why on earth a goldsmith would make such a thing—the world’s full of men with too much money and not enough sense, and housefuls of servants willing to take too-valuable trinkets off their hands. Someone decades ago had swiped this one and apparently found my father’s farm so good a hiding place that they forgot to come back for it.

Anyhow, my father, like the good tenant he was, understood that as he’d found a treasure on the king’s land, the right thing to do was to give it to the king. He was all aglow with his noble purpose, ready to rush to the palace at first light to do his duty by his liege lord.

I hope you can see the flaw in his plan. A man like Alistair, certain of his own cleverness, careful never to be outwitted by his peasantry? Come to a man like that with a solid gold mortar, and his first question’s going to be…?

That’s right. “Where’s the pestle?”

I tried to tell Father as much, but he—dear, sweet, innocent man—saw only his simple duty and went forth to fulfill it. He trotted into the king’s throne room—it was his public day—all smiles and eagerness.

Alistair took one look at him and saw a peasant tickled to death that he was pulling a fast one on the king—giving up half the king’s rightful treasure in the hopes of keeping the other half and getting a fat reward besides.

Alistair tore into my father—his tongue was much sharper then—taking his argument to pieces until Father half-believed he had hidden away the pestle somewhere, probably after stealing both pieces himself. In his confusion, Father looked even guiltier, and Alistair ordered his guard to drag Father off to the dungeons until they could arrange a proper hearing—and, inevitably, a hanging.

As they dragged him to his doom, my father had the good sense to say one coherent phrase, loud enough for the entire palace to hear. “If only I had listened to my daughter!”

Alistair, for all his brains, hadn’t expected him to say something like that. He had Father brought before him, and questioned him until he learned the whole story of how I’d urged Father to bury the mortar again and not say a word about it, so as to prevent this very scene from occurring.

About five minutes after that, I knocked over a butter churn when four soldiers burst into my father’s farmhouse and demanded I go with them to the castle. I made them clean up the mess, then put on my best dress and did up my hair—in those days, it was thick and golden, and fell to my ankles when unbound—and after traveling to the castle, I went, trembling, up the aisle of the throne room.

Alistair had made an effort that morning to look extra handsome and extra kingly. He still has robes like those, all purple and gold, but the way they set off his black hair and sharp cheekbones that day—I’ve never seen anything like it. He looked half-divine, the spirit of judgment in human form. At the moment, I didn’t feel like laughing at him.

Looming on his throne, he asked me, “Is it true that you advised this man to hide the king’s rightful property from him?” (Alistair hates it when I imitate his voice—but isn’t it a good impression?)

I said yes, it was true, and Alistair asked me why I’d done such a thing, and I said I had known this disaster would result, and he asked how I knew, and I said (and I think it’s quite good), that this is what happens when you have a king who’s too clever to be anything but stupid.

Naturally, Alistair didn’t like that answer a bit, but I’d gotten on a roll, and it was my turn to give him a good tongue-lashing. What kind of king did he think he was, who could look at a man as sweet and honest as my father and suspect him of a crime? Alistair was so busy trying to see hidden lies that he couldn’t see the truth in front of his face. So determined not to be made a fool of that he was making himself into one. If he persisted in suspecting everyone who tried to do him a good turn, no one would be willing to do much of anything for him. And so on and so forth.

You might be surprised at my boldness, but I had come into that room not expecting to leave it without a rope around my neck, so I intended to speak my mind while I had the chance. The strangest thing was that Alistair listened, and as he listened, he lost some of that righteous arrogance until he looked almost human. And the end of it all was that he apologized to me!

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather at that! I didn’t faint, but I came darn close. That arrogant, determined young king, admitting to a simple farmer’s daughter that he’d been wrong?

He did more than admit it—he made amends. He let Father keep the mortar, and then bought it from him at its full value. Then he gifted Father the farm where we lived, making us outright landowners. After the close of the day’s hearings, he even invited us to supper with him, and I found that King Alistair wasn’t a half-bad conversational partner. Some of those books he read sounded almost interesting.

For a year after that, Alistair kept finding excuses to come by the farm. He would check on Father’s progress and baffle him with advice. We ran into each other in the street so often that I began to expect it wasn’t mere chance. We’d talk books, and farming, and sharpen our wits on each other. We’d do wordplay, puzzles, tongue-twisters. A game, but somehow, I always thought, some strange sort of test.

Would you believe, even his proposal was a riddle? Yes, an actual riddle! One spring morning, I came across Alistair on a corner of my father's land, and he got down on one knee, confessed his love for me, and set me a riddle. He had the audacity to look into the face of the woman he loved—me!—and tell me that if I wanted to accept his proposal, I would come to him at his palace, not walking and not riding, not naked and not dressed, not on the road and not off it.

Do you know, I think he actually intended to stump me with it? For all his claim to love me, he looked forward to baffling me! He looked so sure of himself—as if all his book-learning couldn’t be beat by just a bit of common sense.

If I’d really been smart, I suppose I’d have run in the other direction, but, oh, I wanted to beat him so badly. I spent about half a minute solving the riddle and then went off to make my preparations.

The next morning, I came to the castle just like he asked. Neither walking nor riding—I tied myself to the old farm mule and let him half-drag me. Neither on the road nor off it—only one foot dragging in a wheel rut at the end. Neither naked nor dressed—merely wrapped in a fishing net. Oh, don’t look so shocked! There was so much rope around me that you could see less skin than I’m showing now.

If I’d hoped to disappoint Alistair, well, I was disappointed. He radiated joy. I’d never seen him truly smile before that moment—it was incandescent delight. He swept me in his arms, gave me a kiss without a hint of calculation in it, then had me taken off to be properly dressed, and we were married within a week.

It was a wonderful marriage. We got along beautifully—at least until the next time I outwitted him. But I won’t bore you with that story again—

You don’t know that one either? Where have you been hiding yourself?

Oh, I couldn’t possibly tell you that one. Not if it’s your first time. It’s much better the way Alistair tells it.

What time is it?

Perfect! He’s in his library just now. Go there and ask him to tell you the whole thing.

Yes, right now! What are you waiting for?

Alistair

Faith told you all that, did she? And sent you to me for the rest? That woman! It’s just like her! She thinks I have nothing better to do than sit around all day and gossip about our courtship!

Where are you going? I never said I wouldn’t tell the story! Honestly, does no one have brains these days? Sit down!

Yes, yes, anywhere you like. One chair’s as good as another—I built this room for comfort. Do you take tea? I can ring for a tray—the story tends to run long.

Well, I’ll ring for the usual, and you can help yourself to whatever you like.

I’m sure Faith has given you a colorful picture of what I was like as a young man, and she’s not totally inaccurate. I’d had wealth and power and too much education thrown on me far too young, and I thought my blessings made me better than other men. My own father had been the type of man who could be fooled by every silver-tongued charlatan in the land, so I was sensitive and suspicious, determined to never let another man outwit me.

When Faith came to her father’s defense, it was like my entire self came crumbling down. Suddenly, I wasn’t the wise king; I was a cruel and foolish boy—but Faith made me want to be better. That day was the start of my fascination with her, and my courtship started in earnest not long after.

The riddle? Yes, I can see how that would be confusing. Faith tends to skip over the explanations there. A riddle’s an odd proposal, but I thought it was brilliant at the time, and I still think it wasn’t totally wrong-headed. I wasn’t just finding a wife, you see, but a queen. Riddles have a long history in royal courtships. I spent weeks laboring over mine. I had some idea of a symbolic proposal—each element indicating how she’d straddle two worlds to be with me. But more than that, I wanted to see if Faith could move beyond binary thinking—look beyond two opposites to see the third option between. Kings and queens have to do that more often than you’d think…

No, I’m sorry, it is a bit dull, isn’t it? I guess there’s a reason Faith skips over the explanations.

So to return to the point: no matter what Faith tells you, I always intended for her to solve the riddle. I wouldn’t have married her if she hadn’t—but I wouldn’t have asked if I’d had the least doubt she’d succeed. The moment she came up that road was the most ridiculous spectacle you’d ever hope to see, but I had never known such ecstasy. She’d solved every piece of my riddle, in just the way I’d intended. She understood my mind and gained my heart. Oh, it was glorious.

Those first weeks of marriage were glorious, too. You’d think it’d be an adjustment, turning a farmer’s daughter into a queen, but it was like Faith had been born to the role. Manners are just a set of rules, and Faith has a sharp mind for memorization, and it’s not as though we’re a large kingdom or a very formal court. She had a good mind for politics, and was always willing to listen and learn. I was immensely proud of myself for finding and catching the perfect wife.

You’re smarter than I was—you can see where I was going wrong. But back then, I didn’t see a cloud in the sky of our perfect happiness until the storm struck.

It seemed like such a small thing at the time. I was looking over the fields of some nearby villages—farming innovations were my chief interest at the time. There were so many fascinating developments in those days. I’ve an entire shelf full of texts if you’re interested—

The story, yes. My apologies. The offer still stands.

Anyway, I was out in the fields, and it was well past the midday hour. I was starving, and more than a little overheated, so we were on our way to a local inn for a bit of food and rest. Just as I was at my most irritable, these farmers’ wives show up, shrilly demanding judgment in a case of theirs. I’d become known for making those on-the-spot decisions. I’d thought it was an efficient use of government resources—as long as I was out with the people, I could save them the trouble of complicated procedures with the courts—but I’d never regretted taking up the practice as heartily as I did in this moment.

The case was like this: one farmer’s horse had recently given birth, and the foal had wandered away from its mother and onto the neighbor’s property, where it laid down underneath an ox that was at pasture, and the second farmer thought this gave him a right to keep it. There were questions of fences and boundaries and who-owed-who for different trades going back at least a couple of decades—those women were determined to bring every past grievance to light in settling this case.

Well, it didn’t take long for me to lose what little patience I had. I snapped at both women and told them that my decision was that the foal could very well stay where it was.

Not my most reasoned decision, but it wasn’t totally baseless. I had common law going back centuries that supported such a ruling. Possession is nine-tenths of the law and all. It wasn't as though a single foal was worth so much fuss. I went off to my meal and thought that was the end of it.

I’d forgotten all about it by the time I returned to the same village the next week. My man and I were crossing the bridge leading into the town when we found the road covered by a fishing net. An old man sat by the side of the road, shaking and casting the net just as if he were laying it out for a catch.

“What do you think you’re doing, obstructing a public road like this?” I asked him.

The man smiled genially at me and replied, “Fishing, majesty.”

I thought perhaps the man had a touch of sunstroke, so I was really rather kind when I explained to him how impossible it was to catch fish in the roadway.

The man just replied, “It’s no more impossible than an ox giving birth to a foal, majesty.”

He said it like he’d been coached, and it didn’t take long for me to learn that my wife was behind it all. The farmer’s wife who’d lost the foal had come to Faith for help, and my wife had advised the farmer to make the scene I’d described.

Oh, was I livid! Instead of coming to me in private to discuss her concerns about the ruling, Faith had made a public spectacle of me. She encouraged my own subjects to mock me! This was what came of making a farm girl into a queen! She’d live in my house and wear my jewels, and all the time she was laughing up her sleeve at me while she incited my citizens to insurrection! Before long, none of my subjects would respect me. I’d lose my crown, and the kingdom would fall to pieces—

I worked myself into a fine frenzy, thinking such things. At the time, I thought myself perfectly reasonable. I had identified a threat to the kingdom’s stability, and I would deal with it. The moment I came home, I found Faith and declared that the marriage was dissolved. “If you prefer to side with the farmers against your own husband,” I told her, “you can go back to your father’s house and live with them!”

It was quite the tantrum. I’m proud to say I’ve never done anything so shameful since.

To my surprise, Faith took it all silently. None of the fire that she showed in defending her father against me. Faith had this way, back then, where she could look at a man and make him feel like an utter fool. At that moment, she made me feel like a monster. I was already beginning to regret what I was doing, but it was buried under so much anger that I barely realized it, and my pride wouldn’t allow me to back down so easily from another decision.

After I said my piece, Faith quietly asked if she was to leave the palace with nothing.

I couldn’t reverse what I’d decided, but I could soften it a bit.

“You may take one keepsake,” I told her. “Take the one thing you love best from our chambers.”

I thought I was clever to make the stipulation. Knowing Faith, she’d have found some way to move the entire palace and count it as a single item. I had no doubt she’d take the most expensive and inconvenient thing she could, but there was nothing in that set of rooms I couldn’t afford to lose.

Or so I thought. No doubt you’re beginning to see that Faith always gets the upper hand in a battle of wits.

I kept my distance that evening—let myself stew in resentment so I couldn’t regret what I’d done. I kept to my library—not this one, the little one upstairs in our suite—trying to distract myself with all manner of books, and getting frustrated when I found I wanted to share pieces of them with Faith. I was downright relieved when a maid came by with a tea tray. I drank my usual three cups so quickly I barely tasted them—and I passed out atop my desk five minutes later.

Yes, Faith had arranged for the tea—and she’d drugged me!

I came to in the pink light of early dawn, my head feeling like it had been run over by a military caravan. My wits were never as slow as they were that morning. I laid stupidly for what felt like hours, wondering why my bed was so narrow and lumpy, and why the walls of the room were so rough and bare, and why those infernal birds were screaming half an inch from my open window.

By the time I had enough strength to sit up, I could see that I was in the bedroom of a farmer’s cottage. Faith was standing by the window, looking out at the sunrise, wearing the dress she’d worn the first day I met her. Her hair was unbound, tumbling in golden waves all the way to her ankles. My heart leapt at the sight—her hair was one of the wonders of the world in those days, and I was so glad to see her when I felt so ill—until I remembered the events of the previous day, and was too confused and ashamed to have room for any other thoughts or feelings.

“Faith?” I asked. “Why are you here? Where am I?”

“My father’s home,” Faith replied, her eyes downcast—I think it’s the only time in her life she was ever bashful. “You told me I could take the one thing I loved best.”

Can I explain to you how my heart leapt at those words? There had never been a mind or a heart like my wife’s! It was like the moment she’d come to save her father—she made me feel a fool and feel glad for the reminder. I’d made the same mistake both times—let my head get in the way of my heart. She never made that mistake, thank heaven, and it saved us both.

Do you have something you want to add, Faith, darling? Don’t pretend I can’t see you lurking in the stacks and laughing at me! I’ll get as sappy as I like! If you think you can do it better, come out in the open and finish this story properly!

Faith

You tell it so beautifully, my darling fool boy, but if you insist—

I was forever grateful Dinah took that tea to Alistair. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the loophole in his words—I was so afraid he’d see my ploy coming and stop me. But his wits were so blessedly dull that day. It was like outwitting a child.

When at last he came to, I was terrified. He had cast me out because I’d outwitted him, and now here I was again, thinking another clever trick would make everything well.

Fortunately, Alistair was marvelous—saw my meaning in an instant. Sometimes he can be almost clever.

After that, what’s there to tell? We made up our quarrel, and then some. Alistair brought me back to the palace in high honors—it was wonderful, the way he praised me and took so much blame on himself.

(You were really rather too hard on yourself, darling—I’d done more than enough to make any man rightfully angry. Taking you to Father’s house was my chance to apologize.)

Alistair paid the farmer for the loss of his foal, paid for the mending of the fence that had led to the trouble in the first place, and straightened out the legal tangles that had the neighbors at each others’ throats.

After that, things returned much to the way they’d been before, except that Alistair was careful never to think himself into such troubles again. We’ve gotten older, and I hope wiser, and between our quarrels and our reconciliations, we’ve grown into quite the wise pair of lovestruck fools. Take heed from it, whenever you marry—it’s good to have a clever spouse, but make sure you have one who’s willing to be the fool every once in a while.

Trust me. It works out for the best.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I CAME AND I SAW THAT U WERE ALSO INFECTED WITH THE SILLY PUPPET THING,WELCOME..TO THE COMMUNITY! (Get it?)

May I request some headcanons of Barnaby,Sally and Wally meeting a Very Old Goose Puppet Y/n? Just this worn out,Raggedy and Intimidating Goose Grandparent who then absolutely babies them and teaches them self defense tricks,making them soup,maybe they worked as some sort of guard or security! Just pepaw/granny goose caring over these silly puppets.also like they could be going round the forest and a feral bear pops up,Pepaw Goose just turns around and hiss at it and the bear scampers off while Pepaw is like “Anyways-“ (Thoight would be funny because Geese are used as Guard animals)

Have a nice day! ^^ or night if it’s late!

Yeah!! I was genuinely surprised at the amount of Wally x Reader stuff here but I'm all for it!

Also ngl I've been playing a lot of Untitled Goose Game recently so,,, this ask couldn't have come at a better time /pos

........

Barnaby

Honestly, when this lad first saw you emerge from the woods...he was about to run back home with his tail tucked between his legs. You gave him quite a fright!

You were a goose who was about Poppy's height--if not taller--with ragged greyed feathers and [e/c] eyes that look nearly bloodshot, your legs and bill having stitches, and some loose stuffing falling out of your main body.

All in all...you had a very intimidating disposition.

But when you approach Barnaby, it turns out you're just returning one of his juggling pins that he accidentally flung out into the forest.

"You best keep an eye on your juggling kits, dear." You speak in a gentle, raspy voice.

"Th-Thanks...are you from the barn too?"

"A different one. I used to be a guard for the little gooselings and other farm animals in my prime years but---oh..how about we walk and talk, hm? Do you live close by?"

And that's how Barnaby got to know you! He felt bad for judging you by your appearance, as while you look scary..you're just a sweet ol' geeser (yes he's made that pun a few times and you love it) whose kind heart and soul haven't gone anywhere.

You've come to care for everybody in the neighborhood, especially the big blue dog who sometimes gets into accidents while performing stunts.

In those cases, you always know how to nurse him back to health.

At some point, he and everybody else start to see you as a grandparent, calling you [Pa/Ma]...which makes you especially happy.

Sally

When you were younger, you saw her descend to earth, thinking it was just an ordinary shooting star.

You made a wish that you'll be able to find some good friends to spend the rest of your days with. Being a geese guard was a lonely job sometimes..

Many years later, you see that same star--now one who walked and talked--strolling through the forest near your barn. And you were ecstatic, wanting to introduce yourself!

Even though Sally's never met you till now, she's flattered to learn you wished upon her....and even happier to know she made that wish come true!

Your initial appearance surprised her, but she's eager to run back to town and introduce you to everyone!

So that's where you two head to, though as you're both talking (which is mostly her rambling about the next play she's performing tonight), an aggressive bear suddenly leaps out and roars, frightening her-

Until you hiss at it, extending your wings in a threatening manner, which immediately drove the beast back into the woods.

Then you turn back to the gawking star with the sweetest, most apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about that, dearie..do continue."

And she does for a little while, but you end up using that bear encounter as a teaching moment, showing her (and the others once you meet them) how to best defend themselves against possible bear attacks (or any wild animal attack in general). You made it your mission to keep these young folks safe.

Sally would definitely incorporate these lessons into her plays, which you grew to adore, refusing to miss a single one.

Wally

It was actually Poppy who introduced you to the gang, since you've watched over the barn she's lived in since she was a little baby bird. She basically considers you her parent.

You helped her out with her anxiety issues and baking mishaps over the years, so everybody warms up to you quick after learning your ties to each other.

Wally's no different. He's not too intimidated by your height nor raggedy feathers (man knows to respect his elders).

If anything, he's impressed that your felt and stuffing are still keeping you together, but offers to help you get patched up.

"Oh thank you, sweetie!" You croon. "You know..this town is blessed to have such a kind and handsome gentleman like yourself here."

Hearing that instantly melted his heart.

Soon enough, you get acquainted with the others and take care of them if they need help with anything.

Within the neighborhood, you ensure no wildlife breaks into the grocery store and makes off with any food (especially apples), always keeping watch.

Wally admires your nurturing and protective nature, knowing you're a very wise bird who offers the best advice..

Whenever he's lost on inspiration for art projects or just...feeling stressed over whatever, you're there to help him how ever you can.

When he got caught out in a rainstorm and got sick one day, you made him some delicious soup that helped him feel better within hours.

And of course, Home's happy to see you taking care of their owner. So you're always welcomed inside.

[ahedderick]

Oral History

@quite-quirksome got me thinking about oral history. Some years ago a man who lives nearby and was, at the time, in his late seventies, called me and asked if I would help him with an oral history project. This was more than a little bizarre to me, because, while I've known him all my life (he was a friend of my parents) we weren't exactly close. And he has two or three children? Why did I get elected to the position of transcriptionist? However. I gathered up my son's laptop and went over to his house. We sat for several hour-long sessions while he told the story of how he built his house, Stonestack. I can type rather fast, although not well. I had a lot of editing to do after our sessions.

He had an amazingly sharp recall of every detail of the construction of this house, and was able to tell the story very coherently. At times, however, he'd think of a side story, and go off on a tangent. Those stories were, to my mind, even more interesting. So, for your edification:

Roger at the swimming hole

  Growing up on this farm I didn’t have many playmates. Early on in life I always had the interest in building huts. The first was on the back side of Slippery Ridge, a lean-to type structure. My cousin Larry and I dug out some dirt to create a level spot, which was a challenge because the ridge has a 25% grade! But, when you’re ten years old, so what? One day Larry and I had our great friend of a horse Old Roger, a 1600 pound Belgian sorrel, at the hut. Roger stepped on a 4 inch pole we had cut for the lean-to. He went down, rolling downhill and mashing saplings as he went, until he rolled against a larger tree that stopped him. We were in a panic like you never saw, “He must have a broken leg, he acts like he is in pain!” I ran as fast as I could back to the farmhouse to get my older brother Bill and old George M. They grabbed ropes and raced to the lean-to. By then, Roger had gotten up. He was favoring his back leg, but it was okay. We got some none-too-favorable comments from Bill, “Why did you boys have Roger in such a place?!” We walked Roger back to the barn unharmed, with great relief.

Swimming hole

   Just below the lean-to is a mountain stream with pools. We created a swimming hole with the addition of some old corrugated tin. The mountain water never seemed to warm up even on the hottest days of summer. It was a great place to hang out under the giant native pines with the blanket of pine needles on the ground next to the swimming hole. There is a birch tree nearby with my initials carved in it in 1953. One day I looked down from my lean-to and some girls were swimming in my swimming hole. “Look, a little boy is up there!” I left the hut and would come back from time to time after that to find the water all cloudy from those older girls using it. The birch tree still stands to this day, the only mark left on this farm of my ten-yr-old self. [note: photo of tree above, the initials are faint, but readable: F G]

   Other huts were built, but they were near the farm buildings. Roger, my pal, died at Fort Hill stadium. He and Pattise were pulling a covered wagon in the celebration of Cumberland’s early history called “the Pageant.” The culprit was moldy hay. This was my first experience of real grief, losing something I really loved.

[Note: Old newspaper photo of Roger and Patisse hitched to a parade float.]

After we did the oral history, he took me and my son on a hike to see the site of the old swimming hole and the tree he carved his initials on. As you can imagine, the creek in the photo was beautifully clear and cool.

His house, his son's house, and the barn are all "in" this picture, but hidden by trees or the curve of the hill. It's a three-generation farm, but likely won't have a fourth.

[days-until-burnout]

Heyyy I just wanted to say how much I love your writing it’s so well done 😄

Can I request smalletho gardening together?

YES. YES YOU CAN REQUEST SMALLETHO GARDENING TOGETHER. IN FACT, YOU (AND ANYONE ELSE) CAN REQUEST ANYTHING (*with caveats). CONGRATULATIONS FIRST ASK I SHALL CELEBRATE BY BENDING THE RULES BECAUSE I MADE THEM WOO _____

📧 Day 10 (b) -

Characters - Etho/Joel Words - 1,040 Time - 45 mins Content - Farm AU | fluff | suggestive comments

Etho was getting real tired of potatoes. Really, really tired of potatoes. Planting potatoes to be precise. Gardening, he didn’t mind at all, repetitive work was always nice to tune out of the world and be by himself. The sun on his head and the ache of muscles was nice seven out of ten times, but this was getting excessive. Extremely excessive. 

The previous day, he’d spent it digging holes, and now, he’d spent his morning and continued to spend his day shoving the potatoes into the holes. Covering them up, and the thought of having to make the path again to water them made him glare at the dirt. Stupid potatoes. 

Why was he doing this anyways?

He shoved another potatoes into the soil and haphazardly covered it, moving to the next hole before looking up to stretch his back. Two rows in front, just a couple spaces ahead, was his answer. 

The farmer’s son. 

Right. 

Etho hadn’t really wanted the job, it was just to fill in time while he sorted out his new job. A friend had mentioned it, and said friend had more or less dropped him in front of the farmer’s house, and the rest was history (not really, it was a very awkward conversation Etho would very much like to forget and never think about again). And now he was there, breaking his back planting stupid potatoes when he should be at home doing—honestly, he wasn’t sure what the alternative was, hooray for moving to the middle of nowhere because he got tired of the city.

But Joel was fine, he supposed. 

…

Well…

Fine as an excuse, not fine as in handsome—which he was, but that was besides the point. 

They didn’t talk much, even though they were around the same age, and everyone said they should have plenty in common to talk about. They didn’t. Barely. 

Joel was an extrovert who liked to drink himself stupid on weekends, loud and so eager to pick a fight at any moment’s notice. Loyal like a guard dog too. A hard worker, with impeccable work ethics. Incredibly smart though he rarely used his brain, preferring fun over practicality or safety. Joel was sweet too—devoting his time to help his parents, dropping social activities the second anyone needed him, always going above and beyond to help others. 

Joel laughed and enjoyed life proudly, and he loved twice as hard. 

“We should take a break,” Joel said, and Etho had to practically throw his body in the opposite direction to not be caught staring. He pretended to stretch, making a face when his joints did in fact creaked and whined. Well, that was bad, probably. 

“Already? Can’t stand a little heat?” 

Joel looked at him with an unreadable expression, and Etho’s eyes couldn’t help drifting to his lips. (Or his body, but that wasn’t as innocent, so that was getting shelved.)

“Whatever, old man. Dehydrate for all I care.”

Etho followed Joel regardless, trying to not stare at his back. Instead, he looked down, wincing and glaring at the little mounds, cursing the root vegetable. Because beefing with potatoes was much better than staring at his not-quite-crush, right. Right. He wondered if it was too late to move deep in the mountains, never to interact with another human being ever again. He’d learn all he needed to learn in time, but then he would never see Joel again, which was a definitive drawback to his near perfect plan. And Joel was too social to invite along.

Oh, great, now he was imaging living with Joel.

Near the house, Etho more or less became one with the ground, under the shade of an apple tree. Not that he was exhausted or anything… He was just appreciating nature, becoming one with it to admire it more. Yeah. Yeah. He managed to drag himself up, sitting up against the base of the tree, having a good view of the fields. 

Then he had a great view of a Joel. 

A very up close Joel. 

“If you are going to die, could you die elsewhere? Or at least wait until I dig up a hole? You’ll be more useful dead anyways.” 

“What a weird way to say you want to use my body.”

Joel seemed to freeze on the spot, only a fraction of a second before emptying a glass of water (Etho hadn’t even notice he was holding, because Joel’s pretty face was more important, of course) into his face. Ice rolled around as he sputtered, wiping down his face to see Joel looking down at him. Just out of reach, Joel escaped his grasp, and he didn’t feel like chasing him because really cared about his job and murdering his employer’s son probably wasn’t the best idea (no, Etho wasn’t tired, not at all). Step by step, further from his grasp. 

Oddly enough, the water did help cool him down, though he was probably looking to catch a cold later, but whatever. He pulled at his shirt, fanning himself a little before his eyes drifted as they always seemed to do. Caught by the only thing worthy of attention.

Joel was crouched in front of some plants he didn’t remember what of, shears in his hands, meticulously continuing the upkeep. It made sense, since his parents weren’t in town for at least two more weeks, which meant Etho was stuck with him alone for a while longer (willingly ignoring the other workers meant nothing, not a thing). And he worked hard, endlessly. Never complaining about it. And Etho just couldn’t forgot Joel’s face, the way it broke with smiles at productive harvests, at being able to go around and pick stuff for dinner. 

Two plates at the table. For a while longer. 

Maybe he should make his move or something. 

Instead, Etho watched him prune. Carefully, deep in concentration. Broken only by the arrival of the herding dog, nuzzling into the side of his face. And how could Etho do anything but stare dumbly when Joel smiled so bright, so happy, pressing his head against the dog’s? 

And how was Etho supposed to not die of a heart attack when Joel looked at him the same way shortly after?

_____

i probably shouldve saved the ask for tomorrow, but this blog is literally dedicated to making bad decisions. and since its the first ask, i shall bend the rules over and over again! also, yes, prompts to me are like suggestions. one day i will actually focus writing on the actual prompt, until they, i shall continue to be absolutely normal about writing

[bobamilkk]

TF2 HEADCANONS PART TWO ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

I told myself I’d get these up one of these days👍 I finished this list at 4 am last night so none of this makes any sense and every word is more chaotic than the ones before it and no I’m not sorry y’all sighed up for this bs

Scout

-Can understand a good chunk of French but can’t speak more than a few simple words if that, has no clue how he understands it (Spy spoke a good amount of French around him as a baby or something idk)

-Can be just has hard to find as Spy-once you loose sight of him he’s impossible to find if he’s actually trying to stay hidden-Like father like son

-Can and will steal your food-this includes Heavy and Medic-He has no fear whatsoever and has been sent to respawn god knows how many fucking times because of this-And yet he still does it

-Loves scifi movies and comics and if you watch a movie with him half of it is him pointing out random trivia facts because he’s incapable of shutting the fuck up (this is also what happens when you watch a movie with me irl. My grandparents are sick and tired of it. Yes this is even more self projection what of it?)

-has mastered the younger sibling talent of fucking climbing people if it means getting something that’s held over his head. He also bites

Soldier

-it’s impossible to tell if he’s insulting you or complimenting you 90% of the time

-Has stabbed Scout’s hand to the table to prevent him from stealing food before and no one stopped him

-The team has movie nights once a week and Soldier always puts on the same inaccurate WW2 documentary he made himself when it’s his turn to pick-he used to put on 10 hours of the American National Anthem but someone (read: The rest of the team working together) lost (read: Violently destroyed) the tape after the third time

-I said he was from Missouri once in a rp cuz my rp friend and I are both from different parts of Missouri so that’s my hc now

Pyro

-I always hc him as Irish for some reason idk why

-Can casually pick up every merc except for Heavy-He struggles a bit with Medic because that man is pure muscle but they can indeed pick him up

-May or may not be a cannibal-it’s a little uncertain but either way they’re banned from the kitchen and cooking duty

-I’m a sucker for the hc that he does not like water whatsoever-Getting this man a bath is like trying to bathe a cat except somehow even more deadly

Demo

-This may be the impulsive sleep deprivation but my brain randomly went “What If he can see general ghosts because of his possessed eye socket, not just Eyelander or the scream fortress ghosts” so sometimes people walk in on him casually having a conversation with the air. Considering he’s made out with his own organs in his head, this is one of the less weird things they’ve walked in on him doing

-Surprisingly he’s the best with kids out of all 9 mercs, Heavy is a good runner up though and Spy’s not far behind but will never admit it

Heavy

-Accent gets thicker when he’s talking to people he cares about

-Was the one who suggested the movie nights in the first place

-Actually cleans up in the base unlike literally everyone else

Engie

-People don’t realize how unhinged this man is ok??? Anyways he’s a caffeine addict and has developed the habit of pulling way too many all nighters if it means getting work done (like me. It’s 4 am as I work on this list. Help)

-What’s a southern farm boy without a few dozen concerning stories about pushing cousins out of second story barn windows or near drowning fishing story? My cousins lived on a farm when we were kids and they scared the shit out of me I swear there was a new broken bone every summer

-probably once had a sleep deprived mental breakdown on his workshop floor because the sweet tea one of the mercs made him wasn’t sweet enough idk man I’m sleep deprived rn and could really use a southern style sweet tea

Medic

-Mann vs Machine hc that his hometown would rather deal with the robots than having Medic anywhere near them ever again. They want him GONE

-Sleeps like a fucking corpse-You can’t even tell he’s breathing unless you look closely. He even crosses his arms like a corpse

-Will take you graverobbing for a romantic date-gotta get experiment canvases somehow he’s running out of room on the other mercs without them just dropping dead from it all

Sniper

-The opposite of a morning person, but his internal clock won’t let him sleep in ever. The suns up? He’s up! Someone help him

-Has befriended a wild owl and feeds it at night-The offense trio very violently helped him name it (They fist fought eachother over who’s name was better while Sniper spaced out thinking about random gator facts)

Spy

-An adrenaline junkie but will never ever admit it

-Spy can mimic voices to a near perfect even without his disguise kit-he however rarely uses this and instead simply mocks everyone instead because he finds it funny (“This is Scout! Rainbows make me cry!”)

-Wears a corset because I said so-It always matches perfectly with his outfit and underwear too-He feels SO bonita

Bonus since it’s Pride Month

-Scout is gay and so many levels deep in the closet it’s embarrassing-He’s also trans because I said so

-Soldier is trans, bi, and poly :) his list of wives consists of anyone and everyone /j

-Spy is bi and a cis man who wears dresses regularly he’s gnc af and I love that for him he’s my wife now

-Medic is gay and still legally married to his wife they’re mlm wlm solidarity married for tax benefits /j

-Pyro is trans, non-binary, and pan and uses he/they pronouns because I said so

-None of these men are straight ok

-Medic did both Scout and Soldier’s top surgery but both of them instead have overly extravagant extremely gorey stories on how they got their scars

[rainydayz-nstuff]

I have come back again! This time I wish to request a farmworld Finn where his s/o had been with him from his Ice Finn era up to Fiona and Cake. I also want to see another version but with Fiona. I wonder how they would interact.

Since I saw your other request I’ll make that one more Fiona based while this is Farm World Finn based. That way, we get the best of both worlds.

When you were a young teen you had a mother and father. You were an only child with a huge extended family.

You never really had many friends since you spent most of your time by the river with a journal, or around your farm with the family.

You knew of Finn who lived nearby at his own farm.

Your families were considered business rivals, but there was never any hatred between anyone.

You were just grabbing a pail of water when you were shot back by the blow of an explosion. Your barn collapsed and you still to this day don’t know what happened to your family.

But they were presumed to be dead after that chaos.

When you went towards the danger, you found Finn with a strange crown on. His eyes were wide and almost fully blue.

And Jake… something was off with him too.

Your witnessed him freezing people and building up a structure using their ice blocked forms.

While whispering Jake snapped to your direction and Finn caught you.

Instead of being frozen, he instead trapped you in ice handcuffs, muttering things that your could barely make out. Things like “princess”, “home”, and “power”.

You blacked out at one point and when you awoke your saw two Finn’s and two Jake’s.

Even after you grew, you still think that part was a dream.

Finn grew weak, which chased the cuffs to melt where they could easily break.

You spent most of your time in the woods after that.

Years after that incident, you still stayed deep in the woods. Never talking to anyone, never seeing anyone.

That changed when you met a young girl who was barely a few years old. She had bright blonde hair and was adorable.

While holding her small hand you elf her out of the woods. Near the entrance you hear yelling, it was a grown man’s voice.

“Bonnie? Bonnie?!”

The little girl picked up her pace and she smiled with tears streaming down her face.

“Daddy!” She cried out before running to her dads arms.

He caught her before lifting her up. His mechanic arm turned into a weapon as he pointed at the edge where he saw another figure behind his daughter.

You were hesitant to step out, but his face… it was familiar.

“Finn? Finn Mertens?”

You stepped out of the woods and pulled back your hood. Finn stared at you in shock and horror.

He had tried to forget about you from his young age, still feeling guilty about what he had done all those years ago.

He stuttered your name before you stepped closer. He stepped back.

You smiled at him and he saw there was no hatred or resentment.

“It’s good to see you…” Your voice was quiet, but he could still hear it clearly.

After that night it sparked the friendship you once had before.

You moved in with him and his family, but the kids didn’t warm up right away, unlike Bonnie.

It was hard on all of them since their mom had just died.

But you wouldn’t replace her. You didn’t even think of Finn romantically… yet.

That all changed one day while you were helping his kids with cleaning the house. He saw how you interacted with them and it was… nice.

No worrying about them being alone, no thoughts of them growing without another parental figure.

He had taken you out to help with preparing the firewood when he suddenly wrapped his arms around you in a hug, your back pressed to his chest.

You leaned into the hug, your hand clasped over his. His chin rested on your shoulder while he sighed.

“… I’m sorry, for what I did.”

His words shocked you and you just leaned back more. “I never blamed you.” You whispered back.

After that day, you both started a slow and steady relationship.

The kids started to love you more and treated you as another parent to them. And you always mentioned their mother and how she would be proud of them.

You would never replace her and they knew and respected that.

One day you were watching the kids again when Finn entered with some ‘guests’.

One was an older man, a young woman, and a cat. But the cat was walking on its two legs.

Finn then walked over and put a piece of gum in the soup, the one his first wife had made the day she died.

You were stirring it up while Finn placed a kiss to the side of your head.

“This is Y/n, they’re my partner.” He introduced you. “Don’t mess with them.” He stated quickly before ordering his kids to set up the table.

You poured everyone their bowls of soup before sitting down with a smile.

Fiona, the young woman, looked at you in awe at how you could handle the whole house and kids with ease.

“Heh… you all should kiss.” Cake, the cat, muttered to Fiona.

The woman blushed deeply before you let out a laugh.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

Yeah… Finn got jealous and protective of you whenever they spoke to you after that.

Hope this was okay! Probably could have done this differently.

[sitp-recs]

hello!! I just finished reading The Bolthole for the first time and ohhhh my god it’s so good. I loved the setting, I loved the way grief and guilt and coping and desire and deserving were explored for each of them, I loved how the way they felt about each other was so embodied and tactile and desperate.

I love the different sides of them we get to see and how their relationship intensifies when they’re out in the middle of nowhere together (feels like the parallel inverse of the beloved classic: trapped in a house in the city together). Would you choose middle of the city or out away from everything, for Draco and Harry? Do you have favorite bucolic stories?

Ohh The Bolthole is amazing and I agree, those vibes are immaculate! I love the elements you highlighted and I’m so happy that you enjoyed this fic; I remember the thrill of seeing those 3 brilliant authors publishing a story together, it felt like Christmas! I’m a very urban girl myself (love the city lights!) but I can’t deny the charm and quiet intimacy of bucolic fics, I especially adore the ones with recluse!Harry living in the woods. I loved doing this rec list, thank you!

Home is Where the Nifflers Are by primaveracerezos (G, 4k)

Draco has a soft spot for animals with nowhere to go; soon his and Harry's small flat is bustling with adorable, semi-dangerous creatures.

Vintage by momatu (T, 7k)

Of all of the vineyards, in all of the regions, in all of France, Draco's blasted editor sends him to Potter's....

Beekeeping by khalulu (E, 13k)

A few years after the war, Harry needs distance from the British wizarding world and volunteers abroad as a teacher in a poor rural school. Draco is a low-budget traveler, wandering wherever his curiosity leads him. Their paths cross in Malawi, “the warm heart of Africa.”

the treehouse near primrose downs by @softlystarstruck (M, 14k)

Draco and Harry have been roommates for years, so buying a magical house in the countryside shouldn’t be a big difference. But in between fresh loaves of bread and beds of wildflowers, things start to fall into place.

amid this warm and steady sweetness by warmfoothills (E, 21k)

Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

Twelve Moons by @corvuscrowned (T, 27k)

Harry Potter lives a quiet life, running an inn with his two best friends. Once a month, Draco Malfoy comes to stay. A real-time fic that takes place over the course of a year; updates every full moon.

Pathless Woods by @shealwaysreads (E, 30k)

Harry finds himself unexpectedly reacquainted with Draco Malfoy when his work as an apprentice wandmaker takes him to Wiltshire. Amongst the trees Harry finds magic, growth, and a man who might finally be proving he’s worthy of the wand that chose him.

Of Wands and Trees by Omi_Ohmy (E, 45k)

All Draco wants to do is be a wandmaker, but to do so he needs to understand the soul of trees. Of course, the only man who might be able to help him is the one man who is more of a mystery to him than any tree.

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (M, 74k)

Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska.

Knead by laughingd0g (E, 83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

Wild (orphaned, E, 92k)

“No,” Harry said, by way of greeting. Malfoy’s blonde head rose slowly, carelessly. “Get out.” “I feel as though we’ve already established this, Potter,” Malfoy responded. “And I feel that what we established was that you telling me to get out of places really doesn’t make me more likely to vacate them.”

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

[desertdollranch]

Dolls brands I never thought I'd own, part 4: Global PenPals

Meet Amity Anderson!

This doll was a tough cookie to track down. I first stumbled across her last year while searching for a completely different doll on eBay. I thought she was adorable, but priced way too high, so I let someone else have her. When I saw her come up again recently for a lot cheaper, I lost the bidding war. When she popped up unexpectedly a third time, I managed to snap her up right away.

The first time I saw her, I was curious about her origin, since the listing said nothing about the brand, Global PenPals. I figured it was someone's small business, because it's an unfortunate truth that many, many 18 inch doll companies produce beautiful and quality dolls for a few short years and then go out of business. Because she certainly didn't look poorly made or low quality; she obviously had a lot of love put into her production. I could tell she had a really nice wig and a carefully sculpted, realistic face mold. She was meant to be more than just a toy, but a little friend as well. That's what I liked about her. She was special, rare, obscure, and unique. And as much as I love my American Girl dolls, I also love the rare and obscure 18 inch dolls that have fallen into my lap over the years through pure luck. That has turned me into a connoisseur of obscure dolls. The rarer, the better.

So for that reason I couldn't get her off my mind. I became very fixated on finding one. I did a Google search that brought up nothing but the listing for her, plus a few dolls with similar brand names, or sites for finding an actual human pen pal. But I noticed the listing photo included a picture of her box, which had the URL of the brand's website. It was defunct, so I plugged into the Wayback Machine at archive.org to see what I could find.

Keep reading for a deep dive into The Global PenPals.

(Hello to anyone in the future who might be doing a web search about this doll! I'm sure you've found little to no information. I've put everything right here for your convenience!)

...

The site's first snapshot was taken in February 2011. It has a very short intro:

"This site is dedicated to children everywhere. Autumn Woods and Amity Anderson will begin pen pal corresponding with children in other parts of the world. They will learn about different living conditions and diverse cultural traditions. Will they discover that children are the same worldwide? Come along with us and see!"

None of the links on the sidebar were archived by the Wayback machine, so I looked at the next three snapshots, taken in July 2013, January 2014, and December 2014 (the final snapshot).

Now this snapshot displays a lot more content, although once again most of the site didn't get archived. The intro is more or less the same. But now we can see illustrations of the two main characters, Autumn Woods and Amity Anderson.

Clicking through the "Meet and learn more about Autumn" graphic linked to a page that had biographies for both characters.

Autumn Woods introduces herself first. She was born in October, hence her name, but she loves Christmas more. She lives in Kennewick, Washington with her parents and younger sister, and likes her school. She's athletic and loves to do cartwheels. Her best friend Amity lives in Basin City, near the farm where her grandparents live. She doesn't know a whole lot about the world outside of Kennewick, so she's looking forward to making pen pals all around the world.

Amity Anderson introduces herself next. She loves living on a farm in Basin City, and most of the other kids at her school are also from farming families, or live in the area seasonally, which has made her curious about the lives of other children of different background. Her family grows cherries, and sometimes the crops fail due to weather conditions. They also have lots of animals including dogs, cats, and cows. She has a secret hideout in the hay loft.

The next page linked at the top contains all of the pen pal letters to and from Autumn and Amity.

There are 10 pages of these letters. The first letter is dated June 11th of 2011, and the final one is dated August 14th of 2013.

Next link is Marcia's Dolls.

To sum it up, Global PenPals was started by Marcia Elovich in 2010. She had always sewn doll clothes for her granddaughter, and her husband built doll furniture. She used dolls to help schoolchildren learn more about the lives and perspectives of children all over the world. She modeled the dolls' faces on her granddaughter and niece, and hopes to introduce more dolls to the brand.

The next link is to the shop.

Only the Amity doll is being sold here. All the images are broken, but I can see that Amity cost $59.00.

The next tab, Media, is pretty much empty.

That's all that I can access with the Wayback Machine, but I didn't stop there.

I Googled Marcia Elovich and found the three Global PenPals books she has published.

These are current, no need to use the Wayback Machine. Here's the link to the list if you're curious about the books. You can click through and read summaries of each.

"About the Author" on the second and third books:

Marcia Harvey Elovich has enjoyed interacting with children in family, at school and other community settings. When she began looking forward to retirement from the local school district, she set up a website around two fictional characters, Amity Anderson and Autumn Woods, using her granddaughter and her niece as visual models for the character images she draws. Through the website, Marcia continues to story-tell to youngsters and adults alike. Amity lives on the farm in Basin City where, in fact, Marcia was raised, and she pursues many of the same interests and activities Marcia did while growing up with her best friend Linda. Autumn lives in town and attends Amistad Elementary School, where Marcia formerly worked as a para-eductor, and earlier as a nurse in the Kennewick School District. This was the birthplace of her peaked interest in interacting with children and later-in-life interest in education. Marcia has recently begun manufacturing of the character dolls and is now converting the website stories into children's books. Also within the framework of her stories, Marcia has interactions from her personal pen pals with whom she is communicating around the globe. Through contrast and compare, she can better present awareness of how alike we are from country to country, culture to culture, religion to religion. "Perhaps the next generation will be more compassionate, not merely tolerating diversity but embracing it!" she adds. In their retirement, Marcia works with her husband and sidekick Bob, marketing her dolls and his woodworked doll furniture. She has one young adult son living at home and an older son living within the community. Her daughter and grandchildren live out of state, so she has to love them long-distance. Through Bob, she has acquired a second daughter who lives in the area and a step-son living out of state. Marcia specifically wants to thank her mother and father, Bob and Kay Harvey, for providing a childhood almost as colorful as the fictional one of which she writes. They gave to her, her three brothers and many childhood friends their mentoring in an era when the village actually did help raise the children.

I also found Marcia's Pinterest profile. She has pinned exactly four images.

The first two are the illustrations seen on the website. The other two are pictures of the dolls.

This picture's caption:

"Amity Anderson if one of the first two characters at www.theglobalpenpals.com and the first to be manufactured as a doll. She is vinyl with soft body and has beautiful peach complexion, with perfect detail down to tiny doll- scale freckles across her nose. She comes in clothes as seen, turquoise tennis shoes, and the matching elastic headband on her long, tangle-free auburn hair. I designed the doll after my own granddaughter. Lovely presentation box designed solely for The Global PenPals."

This confirms that the doll I have is indeed Amity, not Autumn as I had sort of guessed. Amity is illustrated with bangs, but it seems that changed at some point in the doll's design.

I guess that's Autumn on the left? I see no indication on the site or elsewhere that she was ever sold, so it's possible she never made it past the prototype stage.

There's very little else out there about the dolls. A few pictures on Worthpoint with captions stating what I've already put here.

Amity seems to be one of those ultra-rare dolls that only a few collectors know about. After losing out on two other listings, I know that at least two other people do have one and know what Amity is worth. But I have no idea exactly how many dolls were ever produced and sold before the brand disappeared, which probably happened within three years of their debut.

I wonder if their failure may have been due to the price point, $59, which seems very low for a doll with such a nice wig, sleep eyes, a cloth body, a beautifully designed box, and proprietary clothing.

[princessmacedon]

{ happy anniversary!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is. Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing! Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together. Template courtesy of Neffi! 💕

Name: Red, more commonly nicknamed Reddo

Pronouns: they/them preferred, she/he OK!

Birthday (no year): December 28th

Where are you from? What is your time zone? moved to kentucky when I was young, and for sake of ease i use EST (TOAST)! i live near a timezone line, so i get to be flexible like that >vo)v HAHA

How long is your roleplay experience? with a few on and off breaks, roughly 15 years? i forgot about a period of my life where i 'moderated' (read: was the most active user on) a warrior cats RP site; my first foray into rp proper was in pokemon rp on tumblr, my first muse was lyra but i didnt have an internet name until i picked up and settled into writing (you'll never guess who)

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? kind of half answered this above oops, but with warrior cats i genuinely dont remember? i probably just googled warrior cats and wound up there HAHA. for pokemon...... honestly probably the same thing

How were you introduced to TOA? key had mentioned it to me in passing a few times, so i knew she was there, but it wasn't until my friend zyra mentioned it to me and suggested we write macedon siblings together again that i actually joined, hahaha

Do you have any pets? i do! i adopted a ?? year old dog from the shelter about six years ago, so now he's x+6 years old :] pretty sure he's some kind of border collie mix, but not certain! his name is tobin, but he'll answer as long as you say 'ob'. he's a sillyhead

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) it used to be winter because i love the snow! but as i get older and more harrowed by weather conditions, i appreciate how normal and not-trying-to-kill-me autum is HAHA

What is your IRL occupation? (finger guns) figuring it out

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? drawing was my first love! i like reading, especially comics, and writing; i like video games and immersing myself in stories, and have passing interests in things that i don't commit to trying out (like resin, charms, etc etc)

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? FFXIV, mainly; genshin impact and hsr; various farming-ish sims (story of seasons + old harvest moon, stardew valley, rune factory, currently fields of mistria); to a lesser extent dragon age, ace attorney, various VNs / otome / rhythm games, pokemon until roughly scarlet/violet era and then my wallet couldnt keep up with it HSDFSGVSD

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: as a kid it waffled between fire / dark, but not sure i have a dead set favorite type anymore. favorite pokemon still lucario and appletun for sure though!

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! (Optional bonus challenge: if you filled this out last year, try not to repeat what you said back then!) - i love christmas and thinking about gift giving! when i was in school my christmas spreadsheet hit like, 50 names HAHA nooooo way do i have that energy anymore, though - i'm reasonably fond of baking and also reasonably terrible at it! something always goes wrong but usually (usually) stuff comes out pretty tasty in the end. except for that time i set my oven on fire

How did you get into Fire Emblem? my friends were talking about how much fun they were having with the new game at the time, awakening! it looked fun so i decided to try it out

What Fire Emblem games have you played? - Beaten: Genealogy, Blazing Blade (FE7 if youre like me and still cant remember which one is which), Shadow Dragon & New Mystery, Awakening, Fates (Conquest + Birthright), Three Houses (Blue Lions) - Started: Binding Blade (FE6), Sacred Stones, Path of Radiance (FE9), Fates (Revelation), Shadows of Valentia, Three Houses (Black Eagles & Golden Deer), Engage

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: Awakening -- still Awakening! possibly tied with 3H, though. i really enjoy games where i can peacefully level grind

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! vaguely ordered, it's: Wolf, Maria, Cordelia, Seliph, Katarina...? if you think you're seeing a trend you're probably right, hahaha ^^ writing a character is an expression of love for me, so inevitably my muses climb higher and higher on my list over time

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! the clearest one i can remember is wolf, because when i was playing fe11 i was passively using him because he was pretty, and then he got 7 crits in a row and i was like :pika:

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳i'm weak toward green haired women AHSJASFDSF but actual game crushes, hmm... not sure!

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: chrom -> still chrom! - Fates: takumi -> hmm... silas or flora? - Three Houses: dimitri -> still dimitri, except now he's duking it out with yuri - Engage: i have the ring in my pocket as we speak, suffering from the burden of choice... probably diamant though?

Favorite Fire Emblem class? whatever class my blorbos thrive in

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? in all likelihood i'm a villager with just absolutely baffling AI. not entirely stupid, but you cant in good conscience say it's smart either HAHA as a playable unit though, i might be a recruit-type? i could do well if you help me grow, otherwise i'm just this scruffy shitty thing tucked into your pocket. middling-high skill growth, paper defense, and you wish you knew what my speed growth was because i don't (probably fast as a mage but realistically NOT as anything physical)

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? (Black Eagles, Blue Lions, Golden Deer, Church of Seiros, Those Who Slither in the Dark, unaffiliated civilian, other - for example Almyran) my heart says blue lions, but if i'm just some guy (unaffiliated civilian) i won't be surprised

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? - Boons: Reason - Banes: Authority, Gauntlets - Budding Talent: Flying

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? (Firene, the Kingdom of Abundance; Brodia, the Kingdom of Might; Elusia, the Kingdom of Knowledge; Solm, the Queendom of Freedom; Lythos, the holy land of the Divine Dragon; Gradlon, the desolate land of the Fell Dragon) hmm... probably either Firene or Lythos! i'm too much of a weenie to be from brodia HAHA

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔(separate letters, to-ah, other?) toah, like noah! to all my xiv gamers out there this definitely applies to job shorthands too. durg. dirk. whum blum sidge. rurpur and rogg...

Current TOA muses: Maria & Katarina

Past TOA muses? Cordelia my beloved

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Maria! unless something unprecedented happens, i don't see that changing. writing her, her want and determination to love and find wonder in the world, to spread and be joy -- it just puts me in a good place! it's really, genuinely helped me a lot, even if her extroversion is exhausting to my introvert ass sometimes HAHA

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) uhhh... i definitely tend toward characters who are in some regard defined by a form of love or strong emotion, romantic though it need not be -- people who have some sort of powerful, aching tenderness in their heart. i've not really done as much as i've wanted in terms of bringing that out of them, but it's definitely something that draws me in to a character in the first place!

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? ooh, there are lots of characters i like who have a brusque edge or manner, who might be harsh or cold... i wish i could do that! i'd like to try, i think. and also the funny, energetic, boisterous types -- i love to see them and be around them, but i definitely can't pull it off hahaha

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) it's been a while since i've gone all in on this kind of scene, but i love emotional scenes and heart-to-hearts -- the sort of thing where you're communicating your feelings with everything you have and trying to reach someone else! i usually rein myself in well shy of that though, hahaha. i worry a lot about getting too lost in the sauce and derailing a conversation/thread, or making it all about what my muse/what they want to communicate.

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? for katarina, i'd love for her to make some friends! she's her own worst enemy in this regard, separating herself from friends/friendships whether consciously or subconsciously. for maria... well, i'd love for her to have a real heart to heart with someone!

Favorite TOA-related memories? to this day i miss and adore annie's frederick! his dynamic with my cordelia at the time was so much fun to write and to talk about and we had such thoughts for how their relationship would evolve -- it's one of the most interesting and endearing relationships i've had the pleasure of writing! on a sillier note, i often think about leif hauling ass after kanoesa's lewyn HAHA

Present or past tense? it used to be past tense, but i think toa's successfully converted me to defaulting to present hahaha ^^;; consciously at least, i try to match whatever my partner does!

Normal size text, small text, no preference? it doesn't matter to me, but i do hate fighting tumblr to keep all of the small text small.

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 the wolf app/blog i've been refining on and off for the better part of three years is no secret HAHA, but i've seriously contemplated writing a few other characters! radd and boucheron, to name a couple. i get super attached to my characters though, so it's a bit tricky

[scarisd3ad]

Invisible string

(Part of the to the end and back series)

Pairing - platonic!glenn Rhee x fem!reader

Summary - who knew that a pizza delivery boy you met 2 months before the apocalypse began would end up being your absolute best friend.

Warnings - regular twd warnings

Masterlist

Taglist

Previous >> Next

A/n - just a little fic that takes place before the timeline of the main fic! Also, s3 ep1 should come out this week or next! also I love adding more depth to the readers character like I never really said where readers grandparents farm was but it's in the same town as Hershel's might also write a fic where reader and Maggie meet when they were younger!

edited

I sat in my boyfriend's living room, my face buried into Jack's chest as he talked to the pizza place on the phone. This was a rare occurrence, us spending time together. He lived in Macon while I lived in Atlanta for school, so we only did this once every month. "Yes, just one medium pepperoni. 12.49? Alright, yes, that's fine, thank you, yes, yes, alright," he says before hanging up the phone. I look up at him, and he looks down at me before pressing his lips to my forehead. "they'll be here in 30 minutes," he says before pressing play on the movie we were watching before we decided to order pizza.

 About 30 minutes later, a few knocks are on the front door. Jack is about to get up when I pat his chest. "I've got it," I whisper. he takes his wallet and hands me a 20-dollar bill. I get up and walk over to the door. I unlock the deadbolt and the door's primary lock before opening it. In front of me is a guy probably around my age with a black hat with the words 'pizza palace' embroidered and a pizza delivery bag in his hand. "Um, one medium pepperoni that will be 12 dollars and 49 cents," he says. I nod and hand him the bill. "keep the change," I say as he passes the warm pizza box to me. "Thank you. Have a good day," he replies as he stuffs the bill into his pocket.

 "no, thank you..." I look down at the badge pinned to his chest, Glenn. "Glenn"

 August 28th, 2010

"No, Jack, please, you can't go down there," I cry; we're stuck up on the roof of an apartment building after the world has presumably gone to shit. Down below us, the streets are crowded with people trying to escape the city and the crazy people within. I don't know what's happening, but everyone is going crazy, biting and attacking people. It was something straight out of a horror novel. "I've gotta get us something to eat, honey. I'll be right back," he whispers as he cups my face. "I-I'll go with you. Please don't leave me," I cry out. "Please, Jack, I don't want to lose you too." 

"Alright, but we've gotta be fast, okay?" he says, grabbing my hand. We were going down into one of the empty apartments below. We couldn't stay here anyway. Maybe we could hunker down in one of them until the government figures out what the fuck is going on. There's no one in the building as we walk down the blood-covered hallways. We assumed there was no one until we saw a group of those crazy people stumbling down the hallway. "Jack," I whisper as I back up, "Go, you go, I'll find you, I promise." 

September 27th, 2010

It's been a month since the world ended. I waited a few days for Jack to find me, but he never did, so I assumed he died and left. I had to go. The building was starting to become overrun with what I call walkers. I'm stumbling down some road, I don't know which, but I know I'm out of the city. I'm covered in blood when a jeep pulls up before me. "Are you bit?!" I look up at the man in the car. I don't know if I should trust him, but I shake my head. "c'mon, I've got a group up near the quarry." I get into his car despite the concern that fills me. "Shane, my name is Shane." I don't answer at first; I'm shaking from pure fear. "I-I'm y/n," I whisper. 

We arrive at Shane's camp; there's a big RV parked far back near a bunch of tents while the group huddles around a fire. Shane helps me out of the car. "Found her out near the road, scared to death," he whispers to a lady I assume to be his wife. I take a seat near the fire and stare into it. I'm traumatized. I've seen so much death in the past month that every time I close my eyes, I see every single replaying in my mind. "I'm Glenn." I look to my left to see an Asian guy I've sworn I've seen before. I remember that name, voice, and face, but I just can't figure out where I know him from. He smiles at me, and it is comforting to see someone smile. He wears me down until I tell him my name. "I'm y/n," I whisper; he smiles again. How could he smile during this? "Where are you from?" he asks. I let out a sigh as I looked over at him. "Um, I'm from Senoia but moved to Atlanta for college," I say.

My grandparents owned a farm out in Senoia, while my family lived in a small town about 40 minutes away, but I spent most of my life in Senoia. "Cool, cool country shit," he whispers, which makes me laugh, "Yeah, I guess my grandparents did own a farm, so country shit." I look into his eyes, studying his face a little more before asking, "Have I met you before?" he shrugs. "I do. Maybe I did deliver, but out in Macon, so..." Pizza delivery, the guy that had delivered our pizza when I had gone out to Macon to visit Jack. I don't know why I remembered his face. Maybe we were supposed to meet again, and my brain ensured I remembered him. perhaps it was an invisible string tying us together.

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[cowboyjen68]

Hi Jen! I recently turned 30 and have never been in a relationship

In highschool and university I was more focused on school and extracurricular activities, and relationships didn't interest me all that much. Looking back I think it was because I didn't realize I was a lesbian, and the idea of dating boys didn't seem appealing. And maybe others saw that, as I was never asked out (by any gender), and to my knowledge, no one ever took interest in me.

In my early-20s I became interested in dating once I figured out my sexuality, and tried a few dating apps and meeting new people. But nothing really came from it. I have zero experience in dating and flirting, and I have no idea what it's like to be romanced or flirted with. Just like in highschool and university, no one had ever asked me out or seem genuinely interested in me. The older I get and the more Valentine's day I see passing by as a single person, the less hopeful I feel.

It sounds silly and stupid, but I feel like I'm unlovable. Can't see a future where someone falls in love with me, and vice versa; it's so easy to just give up the hope that this loneliness will end.

I don't know what I'm asking for here - reassurance that I'm not alone in this? reassurance that I will be OK being alone? Are there others who went through similar situations and found happiness?

On a different topic: where did you get your rainbow frog necklace? I study frogs and have tried looking for that necklace everywhere.

Thank you so much!

The only dating I did in high school was with one boy whom I met at a campground one summer. He was perfect because I was not interested but also wanted to look like I liked boys. He lived about 40 minutes away and was a farm kid so our time together was very limited. It saved me from having to constantly make up excuses like “I am sick” or “I can’t kiss because I have a cold sore starting”. Any time we were together I ducked and dodged his advances and he was a gentleman about it, never pushing my boundaries. 

In college I finally admitted I liked women but was nowhere near confident enough to come out. I dated one boy, on one date and never was asked again, by man or woman which was disheartening on some level BUT also a relief because I was having fun with my friends (who were all dating off and on) and was not ready for any sort of relationship. I definitely didn’t want a boy asking me and girls scared the hell out of me. I have been told by many of my older lesbian (and some younger) friends that being intimidated by women, especially those we find attractive or interesting, is normal and expected for many of us. 

Lesbians are often way behind in dating etiquette and practice simply because we often don’t date in high school or college (at least not anyone we want to). We wait until young adulthood and independence to wade into the dating pool. Lacking dating or relationship experience seems more prevalent the older we are. But I have noticed some of the “in the middle” lesbians (30 to 40ish)  are really struggling with finding each other, dating and feeling confident enough to ask others out. It seems a fair amount of my friends find themselves single after a long relationship (often their first serious one) in that age bracket OR are just now coming out as “late in life lesbian” and have no idea how to even get started. 

I would say you are in good company no matter the reasons you haven’t been in a relationship. You could be dealing with any number of obstacles but the good news is you can handle them. You might be a bit intimidating, either from your stature or your confidence. You might be just limited in the amount of women you are exposed to therefore your dating pool is a bit stifled. Or you maybe just haven’t had the luck of meeting someone who was the right person at the right time. 

As per usual I would suggest getting to lesbian/women events. Try women’s festivals or local concerts featuring women singers or entertainers. These events will attract a wide array of lesbians and bi women and at least you could meet some more like minded women.  Just ask. If you see a woman at the gay bar or at a non profit fundraiser or at a concert, say hello and introduce yourself. At worst they aren’t interested and you have lost nothing but a minute. You might not end up on a date but you could make a new friend. 

The beauty of women’s festivals is that almost everyone there is lesbian or bi (not all but for once we are in the majority). AND it is perfectly acceptable to meet and make friends and the more you expand your friend circle the better for you. Many women meet compatible partners through other friends. 

Dating apps are an option. I can’t speak for them because I have not used one but I hear they are loaded with people looking for one night stands etc, which does not seem like what you are looking for at this stage in your life. So while they are an easy way to meet others looking to date you might have to wade through a lot of muck to find someone worthy of your time and energy.

It never hurts to ask friends to keep their eyes open. They might assume you are happily single and therefore don’t say anything but you never know who they know. You can do this and you will be fine. It just might take a little work putting yourself out there on social media, dating apps and at events. 

The necklace was made for me by my friend Weird Dan who was an artist and leathersmith. IT had to be reconditioned with new leather and some repair on the beads over covid. My girlfriend at the time found this little frog charm so when the repair was done I had it placed in the center. I have not taken it off for years except for the repairs. You can google “frog charm” or “antique silver frog charm pendant”  and some will come up. It is nothing expensive but I love it all the more because of who gave it to me. 

Remember  You deserve someone who has mutual passion and love for you. Don’t rush, don’t settle and be honest with yourself and you will be okay.