#my personal trainer cracked my egg

[beedokart]

A little meme-ish nonsense for My Personal Trainer Cracked My Egg

[beedokwrites]

My new trans wlw story is now posting on Scribblehub.

Read about an absolutely exceptionally oblivious egg as she swoons for a tall and muscular butch. A woman her father hired because he thought the woman could make a man out of his 'son'.

Instead, she's very much going to do the opposite.

[transbookoftheday]

My Personal Trainer Cracked My Egg by Fern V. Bedek

After a deeply embarrassing mishap leads to Johnathan J. Preston IV revealing to his family his weakness for tall and muscular women, his father makes a surprise move: hiring the woman of his dreams as his personal trainer.

His father's hope that she'll make a man out of Johnathan will very much not be coming true, however.

[iinsertblognamee]

purple to blue

summary ― you say goodbye to perth glory

pairing ― sam kerr x reader

warning/s ― fluff, angst?

masterlist

You and Sam had thrived in the Matilda’s. The wins coming one after the other. You had been fortunate enough to score multiple goals, bringing your team to victory. 

Although your skill caught someone else's eye. The offer to move to Sydney F.C. came after the Asian Cup Final. Kyah Simon was the first person you spoke to about the offer, she congratulated you with a cheer and a hug. You expressed your worries about moving over to the new team, and she assured you that the team was nothing but supportive and felt that it would be a great move for your career. 

You knew ultimately that Sydney F.C. would bring you the experience that you would need for your career, your parents agreeing that the change of teams could bring you skills and knowledge that Perth Glory didn’t have. Working with a new team, different coaches and trainers. 

The was one problem, Sam. The two of you had been playing for Perth Glory together for two years, it was one of the reasons you two had finally gotten together and you felt like you were cheating Sam out by moving. You knew the dreams you both had, holding that trophy for Perth Glory. Setting off the sunset with celebrations from your hometown. 

You had managed to pull Sam away from a night out with the Matildas, holed up in your hotel room. You had grabbed some room service, your nerves not helping with your appetite as you pushed the eggs around your plate. Sam caught on to it almost immediately but didn’t push. 

A few more minutes had passed, Sam’s plate empty whilst yours hadn’t been touched. The uneasiness radiating off you. You watched from the corner of your eye as Sam opened and closed her mouth a few times, debating if she should say anything. 

She does. 

“What’s going on Y/N?” 

Your mum had told you that the news was going to be hard for Sam to hear (she knew how much the two of you relied on each other) but you needed to just rip it off like a bandage so the two of you could work through it. 

That was easier said than done. 

“I-” the words got caught in your throat but you could hear your mum telling you to trust her. Trust Sam. 

“I-I have something to tell you, Sam,” you said hesitantly, trying to work out how exactly you were going to digest the rest of the information. 

Sam’s heart sank. She wasn’t stupid, the phrase often preluded bad news. In the back of her mind, she feared their relationship. Feared it was coming to an abrupt end. As much as she didn’t want it to happen, she couldn’t hear those words come out of your mouth. She needed to take some sort of control over the conversation. 

Without thinking, she blurts out “Are you breaking up with me?”. 

You notice the fear in her eyes instantly, tears welling up just as fast. Your head shakes. 

“No! No, god no,” You exclaimed, taking Sam’s hand as you continued to shake your head. “Sam I would never” you add, trying to establish where her thoughts were coming from. 

“Then what’s wrong? What’s going on?” her voice cracks, a clear sign she was on the verge of crying. The fear hasn’t left her eyes. 

“I’ve been offered a spot in the Sydney FC Team. They were impressed with how I played in the Asian Cup, my skills and consistency. It’s a really big opportunity.” 

The announcement hung in the air between them. You watched as the fear left Sam’s eyes, although her face expressed a range of emotions. Surprise, excitement, and disappointment. 

Sam knew how big this was, being a footballer herself she knew the importance of a team reaching out for you. She knew the answer was yes, no doubt in her mind and god, she was so happy for you. This was your dream coming true, but your dream meant leaving. Leaving home, leaving Perth Glory and leaving her. 

The silence prolongs as your face drops. Taking the silence as rejection. 

“Wow…” she pauses, trying to find the words. “Y/N. That’s…That’s great news!” Sam managed to stutter out, a smile appearing on her face but her eyes still held sadness. 

“Really?” you shyly ask, your eyes following her as she nods her hand with more determination. 

“Y/N this is great! Sydney wants you, I mean I can’t blame them. And they can offer you so much y’know?” 

“But what about us?” It was your biggest concern. As much as you loved Sam, you had never had to worry about distance. The furthest the two of you had been from each other was across the street. You knew that it would put a strain on your relationship. 

And was that really a risk you wanted to take?

“We’ll be okay. I promise. The distance won’t be forever, the season is only three months of the year, and we’ll see each other in the break weeks and the weeks we play against each other. And we have the matildas throughout the rest of the year. You’ll be with me more time than not. And we have phones and email. We’ll be okay Y/N. I’m not losing you this easily. I believe in us, love” 

You took Sam’s face in for a few more seconds, letting her words wash over you. She of course was right. Three months was nothing, and even then you would be able to see each other throughout it all. 

Your arms wrap around Sam, as you pull each other closer. A laugh leaves your lips as you start to bounce in her embrace. 

“I’m moving to Sydney FC!” you scream out, the excitement finally falling through. Sam joins in with the celebrations, cheering with you as you both jump up and down on the balcony. 

The paperwork was signed two days later, and pictures and jerseys were given out. Blue was your new colour. 

As exciting as the new team was it was daunting moving over for a short period of time. Kyah took you under her wing, the team welcoming. It helped that you weren’t the only new fresh face coming to the team. Miss Caitlin Foord and Alanna Kennedy joined the team alongside you. It was practically fate, the three of you falling into an easy-going trio. 

Being so close in age the three of you gravitated towards each other. The friendship bloomed almost instantly, stitched together by a shared passion and love for soccer. It wasn’t hard to get along, and the three of you found (as well as the rest of the team) that the three of you together meant trouble. 

In your first game of the season against Brisbane Roar, you managed to score the last goal, securing the team’s win. Caitlin and Alanna were first on the field running towards you as that final whistle went off. The three of you cheering and dancing, the rest of the team soon to join in. 

From there on out the three of you became a dynamic package. A hunger for dribbling past anyone who dared to stand between you and the soccer ball. You were all agile, fierce and almost impossible to defeat. Your instincts were your superpower, reacting in split seconds, a trait the three of you mastered through countless bruises and scraped knees (that didn’t stop any of you). 

Games went on, you cheered as Caitlin and Alanna both stepped foot on the field, scoring goals and dodging tackles. High fives and celebrations were constantly shared between the three of you as your friendship grew stronger and stronger. 

You spent countless nights on phone calls with Sam, sometimes the girls would join, and other times it was just you and Sam - sharing your secrets and telling point-by-point stories for the days that had passed. 

You had both agreed to keep your relationship private, your family knowing but that was the extent of it. You knew not everyone would be supportive of your relationship with Sam, and whilst you didn’t care what they thought you both knew it could create problems with getting selected for bigger and better things. With a clear understanding, the two of you decided for the best that you would maintain the ‘best friends��� relationship for the public. 

With that being said, it hadn’t taken long for your trio to now include Sam. The four of you moulded together into the tight-knit group of friends you were. When Sam came to visit you on her week off, the four of you painted the town red - getting yourselves in all sorts of situations that you couldn’t even begin to understand. 

It didn’t take long for numbers to be exchanged, as the three of you waved goodbye to Sam as she went back on her way. (You and Sam had said your real goodbyes the night before). The sacred secret was now shared with Alanna and Caitlin too. Although they claim they figured it out long before you and Sam told them. 

It was a relief having other people to share your relationship went. They helped you pick out gifts for your anniversary and made excuses for you when you needed some extra time on the phone with Sam. It also came with lots of teasing, sending Sam pictures of you moping around, and making kissy faces as the two of you talked on the phone. Sam absolutely loved it, she loved being able to openly show you off as her girlfriend. She’d get Alanna and Cailtin to give you flowers and chocolates on her behalf and when you got sick she gave them her mum’s homemade chicken soup recipe to help you get better. 

When Sydney FC made it to the grand finals Sam, your parents and Sam’s family made their way to Newcastle to cheer you on. Sam and her mum holding a homemade poster with your number in big bold letters with ‘Our Favourite Star’ written underneath. 

The game was tense, Newcastle Jets wanted the win as much as your team did. It was 1 - 1 by the 70th minute. The air was tense, Alanna had been subbed on and was showing the crowd exactly why she was put on. You watched the ball go back in forth between your teammates, ready on the side if they needed an escape. 

It happened in a blur, you watch Kyah pass the ball to Caitlin, an opponent close behind. She passes it over to you, immediately you start running. An open space breaks even as you dribble the ball past two other opponents and continue towards the goal. 

You were far enough out that you doubted your ability to score, looking around to see if there was anyone to pass to. You could hear the crowd screaming, you could hear Sam screaming. 

“You can do it, baby! Shoot. Shoot!” 

You manage to take a deep breath in and shoot. 

The ball flies through the air, an opponent jumping up to create a block, but the ball continues past her head and towards the goalkeeper. You watch as the goalkeeper dives, arms spread out but it’s not enough. The ball hits the back of the net. 

Silence. Your heart beating. 

The body jumps on your back and then cheers, more teammates joining the huddle as you feel them jump up and down. You manage to make out the crowd joining in with the cheers, you vision looking around at the cheering blue. Alanna screamed “Fuck yeah!” in your ear, the huddle breaking apart as people clap my back. 

You search for Sam, Your and her family jumping up and down with the crowd, her mum pulling yours into a hug. Your eyes meet, the pride on her face is enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

“I love you” she mouths, blowing you a kiss. You pretend to catch it, bringing it to your lips as you mouth “That one was for you”. 

The whistle blows six minutes later, the trophy hangs in the air as your team celebrates. 

Celebrations go into the night and onto the next day. A brunch with yours and Sam’s family to bring it all in. It was nice being with everyone again, the last time you’d all been together was before you made the move. Stories were told throughout the day, Sam’s hand resting on your thigh. The conversation had moved along, Sam and you soaking in each other’s company. 

“Did you hear the good news?” Sam whispers into your ear, her attention still on the table as you slightly move your head so you can watch her face. You shake your head. “We’re staying an extra night” 

“Everyone? Doesn’t your mum have work tomorrow?” 

“No baby, just you and me. And an empty hotel room”. 

Well, you couldn’t say no to that.

[lumenflowered]

Um, hi again, I think I can explain? It sounds like people are questioning your gender, Maria. An "egg" is a pony who– sorry, any person, humans too, who's transgender but hasn't fully realized it yet. Actually having the thought of "yes, I am / should be / want to be a girl" (or other gender) is called cracking the egg or hatching, as the trans person begins a new life as their real self. I haven't seen the egg stage firsthoof since my friend Rarity came out and transitioned before we really met and became friends, but she's told me a lot. I hope this helps!

– Fluttershy (@the-fluffiest-trainer)

Ah, I see. They took entirely the wrong impression from my remarks earlier, then.

I have questioned my gender before. I ultimately came to the conclusion that I preferred the one I had to begin with, but I'm far more secure in it than I ever was prior to that, so I am glad that I took the time to do so.

Thank you, Fluttershy. I'm very sorry that we keep meeting like this. How are you?

[a-bit-too-much-of-a-pokemon-fan]

Ice-Cold Take: Cynthia is a Fantastic Champion

Yeah, I know that practically everyone already agrees with me. But I want to go on about her anyway. Let's talk about it.

The Background

Cynthia introduces herself to you as "A Pokémon trainer, just like you," and as being an amateur historian. So we already have a kinda interesting background. Then she appears a few times across your journey, even being a central character in the climax of Platinum. She jumped right into the Distortion World right alongside you. So we know she's brave and strong of heart.

It might not be total surprise to everyone on their first run that Cynthia is the champion. She is a recurring adult character who appears to be a strong trainer; Wallace and Lance have a similar setup. But even if you saw it coming from a mile away, who expected the piano?

Have another ice-cold take: her intro music is phenomenal. It also has separate effects depending on how you're playing the game. On your first run, you hear the music and know shit is about to go down. No one else in the game has had and introduction like this. But if this is a Nuzlocke, a battle you've prepared for, the last challenge of the run, the song is downright bone-chilling. In my first Nuzlocke, as I approached her with just a Porygon-Z, Electivire, and Hippowdon, my heart was pounding.

What I don't hear a lot of talk about is her actual battle theme. I'm going to dissect it in another post.

The Buildup

I've complained about the stupidly high level cap jump from Volkner to Cynthia in Nuzlockes: 17 levels in DP/BDSP and 12 in Platinum. It's an atrocious grind if you want to be at her level cap. But if you're playing vanilla, the jump is actually kind of genius. How much leveling can your team of favorites really do between Volkner and the Elite Four? Even Barry's ace at the Pokémon League is his Lv 55/51 starter.

Then you start the Elite Four challenge. Aaron leads with a Lv 53 Dustox/Lv 49 Yanmega, and the difficulty keeps ramping up and up. Last spring, I completed my first run of Platinum as an adult. My team seemed up to snuff at first. Take a look.

Alpha the Luxray, Lv 54

Shine the Gardevoir, Lv 52

T. C. the Empoleon, Lv 52

Rayda the Rapidash, Lv 50

Kongu the Staraptor, Lv 47

Montero the Giratina, Lv 49

I wasn't prepared for what came next.

The Battle

I knew when I saw Cynthia send out her Lv 58 Spiritomb that I was in for a rough battle. The difficulty of her battle doesn't just come from the leveling, though.

I don't believe for a second that Cynthia's lead is a Spiritomb just because it's a strong Pokémon. Its encounter requirement is so random and hard to fulfill that it's likely a first-time player will never have seen a Spiritomb before this battle. Its typing is phenomenal: it has no weaknesses (only one in BDSP), three immunities, and one resistance. It has powerful coverage moves too, making it hard to guess the typing. And that's just how she starts the battle.

There are great coverage moves across the board, too. Togekiss would eat shit to a Rock type that both resists its STAB moves and is super effective. So Cynthia gave it Aura Sphere. If you were going to use an Electric type to take Togekiss out, Garchomp's immunity and Earthquake will have something to say about it. Garchomp is quad-weak to Ice, so it has Flamethrower. Lucario is weak to Fire, so it has Stone Edge. Maybe you were planning on taking it out with a Ground type, but she has a Roserade and Milotic ready to counter it. Milotic has Ice Beam to deal with any Grass type challenger.

Let's also not forget that her ace is a Lv 66/62 cracked-out pseudo-legendary with only 2 (3 in BDSP) weaknesses--which are rare types anyway. I'm certainly not the first person to say that her Garchomp is a menace. I should know, it was 8 levels higher than my own Electric type ace. As a side note, it's neat that she gives you a Togepi egg early in the game and uses a Togekiss herself. Point is, you need non-STAB coverage moves or an otherwise well-composed team to take Cynthia on.

Between her story significance, musical accompaniment, and excellent team, Cynthia is a fantastic champion. A perfect conclusion to the flawed but wonderful experience that is... er, Platinum Version. I have certain feelings towards DP/BDSP. That's for another rant, though.

[school-in-london]

20241214 LAST 2 DAYS / DAY2

SCHOOL IN LONDON LAST 2 DAYS

■DAY2 2024.12.14.(sat) at SPACE TOKYO OPEN/START 5:00 PM / CLOSE 11:00 PM

DJ: 村田タケル Support DJ: ��� / Yuhi / やまださき Shop: to’morrow records Exhibitions: takekiyo666

■ DJ: 村田タケル

Malice K / Song For My Baby

Porridge Radio / A Hole In The Ground

Chastity Belt / Ann's Jam

Elias Rønnenfelt / No One Else

Cardinals / Roseland

Blue Bendy / Mr. Bubblegum

Warpaint / Common Blue

Chanel Beads / Police Scanner

bar italia / Night So Kissedof

Alex G / Runner

Mk.gee / Alesis

Clairo / Add Up My Love

MJ Lenderman / She's Leaving You

cowboyy / Plastic

Deerhunter / Memory Boy

Jerskin Fendrix / A Star Is Born

Famous / 2004

shame / Fingers of Steel

Choir Boy / Toxic Eye

Hinds / Superstar

■Support DJ: Yuhi

Girlpool / 123

boygenius / Souvenir

Snail Mail / Pristine

The Goon Sax / Boyfriend

Melenas / K2

Patience / The Girls Are Chewing Gum

Denim / Middle of the Road

Parquet Courts / Black Widow Spider

The Tubs / Wretched Lie

Feeling Figures / Space Burial

■ DJ: 村田タケル

bar italia / punkt

7ebra / Normal Song

Only Real / Backseat Kissers

Vampire Weekend / Classical

Water From Your Eyes / Out There

J.R.C.G. / Doger

Tsha / Power

Jockstrap / Good Girl

Kelly Lee Owens / Dreamstate

Frederik Valentin / Ego Death

Lust For Youth / Running

King Krule / Easy Easy

Wunderhorse / Teal (Live at The Forum) ※Spotifyは通常音源

Cola / Keys Down If You Stay

Dehd / Loner

Crack Cloud / The Medium

Tramhaus / Beech

shame / One Rizla

Thus Love / On The Floor

Fontaines D.C. / Televised Mind

■Support DJ: 陸

Hallan / The Colline Gate

Mandy, Indiana / Nike of Samothrace (Club Eat Remix)

Heartworms / Retributions of an Awful Life

The xx / On Hold

Mannequin Pussy / Nothing Like

Norya / Untitled 01.

SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE / STRANGER ALIVE

Oasis / Round Are Way

Bull / Sid

Personal Trainer / Round

■ DJ: 村田タケル

The Garden / Freight Yard

Talk Show / Red:White

Squid / Green Light

Deerhunter / Cryptograms

High Vis / Minds's Lie

Sextile / Crash

Doss / Strawberry

Headache / That Thing with the Rabbit　

Fontaines D.C. / Starburster

Fat Dog / King of the Slugs

HMLTD / To The Door

O. / Slice

Nia Archives / So Tell Me…

The Murder Capital / Return My Head

Nabihah Iqbal / This World Couldn’t See Us

Wombo / Dreamsickle

Dry Cleaning / New Job

Fontaines D.C. / Hurricane Laughter (Demo) ※Spotify無し

Fontaines D.C. / Hurricane Laughter

Straw Man Army / Extinction Burst

Tramhaus / The Big Blowout

Mourn / Could Be Friends

■Support DJ: やまださき

The Buoys / Subject A

Buttermello / Dreaming Still

bby / Kinky

Gut Health / Separate States

Water From Your Eyes / The Good Ship Lifestyle

Drahla / Grief In Phantasia

HMLTD / Wyrmlands

boylife / superpretty

GIFT / Light Runner

■ DJ: 村田タケル

Palma Violets / Best Of Friends

Cloud Nothings / Final Summer

Dust / Joy (Guilt)

Royel Otis / IHYSM

Famous / What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life

The Orielles / The Room

Klan Aileen / Happy Memories

The Garden / Egg

Radiohead / Myxomatosis (Judge, Jury & Executioner)

PVA / Bunker

Yard Act / Grifter's Grief

Idles / Danny Nedelko (Live at Le Bataclan)

Geordie Greep / Holy, Holy

Friko / Crashing Through

The Horrors / Who Can Say

Moin / Guess It's Wrecked (feat. Olan Monk)

Water From Your Eyes / True Life

Ebbb / Answered

Glows / Tropic feat. Asha Lorenz

Sextile / New York

GWENDOLINE / Héros National

Lime Garden / Floor

bar italia / worlds greatest emoter

Horsegirl / Billy

Fontains D.C. / Too Real (Live at Kilmainhan Gaol)

English Teacher / Nearly Daffordils

Nilüfer Yanya / stabilise

shame / 6/1

Fontains D.C. / Favourite

[oldsalempost-blog]

The Old Salem Post

Contact: theoldsalempost@gmail.com                              Distributed to local businesses, town hall, library.                            Volume 7 Issue 34                                                                                                  Week of August 12,  2024                https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/oldsalempost-blog                                                         Lynne Martin Publishing EDITOR:   Support local has become a big deal.  What we think is a new and cool idea has actually existed forever on the farm.  Some have to recreate it, but fortunately I got to live it.  In my life around here families have enjoyed “farm to table” every meal starting from breakfast to supper.  Summer was for berry picking, gardening and canning.  As children we had to string many green beans, crack pecans, gather eggs, shuck corn, cut corn stalks for our cows, and load wood for our heater. We had our own meat source of chicken, cows, and pigs grown right at home.  My brother went squirrel hunting and often caught rabbits in a “rabbit gum” to sell.  My grandmother traded dozens of eggs in exchange for something she needed.  Families and friends gathered for weddings and barn dances. Today, people pay a lot of money to visit and recreate the special effects of a farm, when we have had it all along. Support local: buy from a farmer and be more involved in this wonderful place of community. LRMartin                                                                        

TOWN of SALEM: 5 Park Avenue  Monday-Friday 8AM-5PM. Closed 12-1 for lunch.  * Visit the Downtown Market every Sat, 8am-12pm.  There will be a community cookout in partnership with the Oconee Sheriff’s office and the Town at the Salem Community Center Sept 17th at 4PM.  FREE Hamburger or hot dog plates will begin at 4PM.  A new neighborhood watch which is part of  Mission Oconee, sponsored by a Isaiah  40:31 foundation will be discussed.   Save the date for the Last Season Car Show October 12th at 5PM.   864-944-2819                                                                                                                      Jottings from Miz Jeannie  by Jeannie Barnwell     Dog Training Tips                                                   I  have plunked down several hundred dollars to perfect the behavior of my young, obstreperous Collie puppy.  I feel the need to share these tips! First of all, the trainers stress that all interactions should be positive.  Hence, I have been encouraged to wear a fetching little over the shoulder purse so that I can easily distribute treats for good behavior.  "Charlie Bear" is a new treat on the market. These treats are all protein and make a hearty crunch sound in the pet's month.  "No! Stop that! Down Boy! and Mama will Spank!" are  phrases forbidden to a puppy owner.  For instance, train YOUR NEIGHBORS in advance.  If Rover is prone to jump on people, YOU must train your neighbors to simply turn away from the jumper.  In particular, train your neighbors NOT to scold the dog.   According to my trainer, when a person shouts and scolds the jumper, the jumper considers this to be positive reinforcement, rather than a reprimand.  My neighbor is not anxious to hold her tongue when Rover's muddy paw prints have smudged her church clothes!  At this juncture, both myself and the jumper have been severely chastised!  At least, I am trying to train my dog, and I will take responsibility for her actions.  Have a good week!  Eat fresh fruit and veggies while we have them.  Remember to share the bounty with neighbors!  Miz Jeannie

SONY 107.9 WFBS-  THANKS to all who helped meet the  $1500  goal for the new antenna and upgrades!

ASHTON RECALLS by Ashton Hester   FISHING LAKE OPENS NEAR SALEM - (The following story was in the June 9, 1954 issue of the Keowee Courier). . .Homer Towe has opened a new fishing lake in the Salem area, and early fishermen who have already tried their luck report nice catches of blue cats. . .Mr. Towe's lake is located several miles from Salem and approximately one mile west of the Mountain View Welcome Wesleyan church. . .A concession stand is also located at the site to provide refreshments for the fishermen. . .This is the second lake Mr. Towe has created on his property. Several years ago he created a smaller one for his own personal use.

JOCASSEE VALLEY BREWING COMPANY,(JVBC) & COFFEE SHOP* 13412 N Hwy 11 Opening on Tuesdays 12pm-7pm during the summer season. Wed–Sat 9am-9pm and Sunday 12pm-7pm.                                    Events this week: Wed:  FOOD TRUCK: BLUE RIDGE GRILL  4PM  Thursday: Food Truck:  BLUE RIDGE GRILL 4PM  TRAIL TALK  6PM  Fri: Music: CASSIDY BRIDGE 6:30PM   Food:  BLUE RIDGE GRILL    Sat–  Food: LOBSTER DOGS  Music:  ANGELA EASTERLING at 6:30PM   Sun: 12pm-7pm Food: BLUE RIDGE GRILL  1PM  Music:  Singer-Songwriter Showcase hosted by Rick Malec  4PM.    

.ONGOING FRESH LOCAL FOOD **

The Clemson Area Food Exchange has been selling produce and table items from the farm in Pickens, Anderson and Oconee counties for the last 15 years.  SALEM is on the drop off on Tuesday 4:30pm -6pm, hosted by  Sisters Restaurant on the porch, 281Stamp Creek Rd. Order between Friday pm- Monday noon. First two orders complimentary, then $ 20/ year per household. Order on line at Clemsonareafoodexchange.com                                                                    PICKET POST PRODUCE located on 5787 N Highway 11: Farm fresh milk, eggs, produce, honey, jams, etc   

EAGLES NEST ART CENTER.

2024 UPCOMING EVENTS     Treasure Store open every Sat morning 9AM-12PM.  For donations  call 864-557-2462.   

August 24th, 7PM  Make Reservations for Dinner and a Show with Luke Riley Smith– Enjoy  the tunes of the Big Band Era, Swing and more! Fried Chicken, 2 sides, roll, dessert, tea or coffee. Tickets $25 Call 864-280-1258. Tickets for sale and available also at the Town of Salem. 

YOUNG APPALACHIAN MUSICIANS– Sign up for YAMs for an evening class each week on Tuesdays at 5:30PM. Cost is $50 each month.  3rd grade through adult.   Call 864-280-1258                                                                                                                      September 21, 7PM  Oconee Mountain Opry– Hometown variety show of local and regional talent! Tickets $10                                                                                                                                                             

CHURCH NEWS                                                                                                                   Bethel Presbyterian Church (PCUSA),  580 Bethel Church Rd Walhalla, 29691. Worship at 10:30 a.m.  Come Visit Us!                                                                                                                               Boones Creek Baptist Church, 264 Boones Creek Road, Salem invites you to join us for regular worship service on Sunday morning with Sunday School at 10am and followed by worship at 11am.  

Salem Methodist Church, 520 Church Street, Down town Salem.  Salem Methodist is an independent church.       Sunday Breakfast at 9AM with Sunday School at 9:15AM and Worship Service at 10:30AM.   Holy Communion the first Sunday each month.  All welcome! Tune in to our live service on Facebook or view it later on our website.        ICE CREAM SOCIAL at the Salem Methodist Church:  Sunday afternoon August 25th at 5PM.  Everyone welcome!              Women’s Community Bible Study each Monday morning at 10AM led by Sherrill Carothers                            NEW PRAYER GROUP: Began August 8th at 7 PM at the Salem Methodist Church. Will meet every second and fourth Thursday each month. HELP MAKE JUMPROPES from old TShirts– Come learn and participate in making jump ropes for the Samaritan’s Shoe Box Ministry Sept 14th at 10AM.  

BOY SCOUTS and CUB SCOUTS to return to Salem?  Salem Methodist Church has been a host site for Scouts.  In the  recent past the number of scouts and leaders decreased so much the troops they stopped meeting.  There seems to be a growing interest in parents, children and the community to bring the scouts back to Salem.   Contact theoldsalempost@gmail.com if you would like contact information.  

FOR YOUR HEALTH— Keep your appointment! Schedule time for exercise.  “Exercise is good medicine!” (Beverly Chesser)

Clemson Rural Health Mobile Unit Coming to Salem:  August dates are Aug 13th and Aug 29th Time: 9AM-3PM Location: gravel parking lot across from the Salem Fire Department.  They will offer comprehensive primary care that includes chronic disease management and acute care.  The website: https://www.clemson.edu/cbshs/clemson-rural-health/patients.html    

LOCAL BUSINESS

DISCOVER Freeze Drying:   Easy to rehydrate.  Delicious & Nutritious.  Lasts up to 25 years!   ADCM  located 174 East Main Street Salem ( beside Talk of the Town Beauty Salon)  is carrying the HARVESTRIGHT Unit.  Stop by and check these out as well the firearms, ammo, fishing supplies,  treasures, antiques and more.                                                                                                     WANTED:  Someone looking for a home site, home, or fixer-upper with 8-12 Acres in the Tamassee-Salem. Contact theoldsalempost@gmail.com for contact information.                                                                                                        Isaiah 40:31:  “ But they that wait upon the Lord will renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles…”

Come to the  Methodist ice cream social!  LRM

[marictheirins]

-LAST LINE WIP

i was tagged by @aartyom​ me bestie me homie me partner in doing memes wrong crime. tagging:   @sunnflowyr @vilestblood @irlawoken @suncesus uhh idk who else haHAHA

this isnt like a last line this is straight up a copypasta of part a thing i wrote recently for one of my ocs & like my only pkmn oc. just a widdle section of it. im in a creative slump for everything except this moron so like perceive or something weeeeee. slashing thru some shit so it doesnt show up in search.

nestled deep within a wooded area, surrounded by willow-like trees & grand floral gardens is small little shack, akin to a cabin, built out of a large tree whose trunk bursts from the ground into the high cliffside beside it. a nestled little nook. moss & ivy drape about the sides of the cliff, crawling up the tree. around the perimeter there is small gardens, tables. a collection of chopped wood & axe stuck within a tree stump. clothes on a clothes line tended to by little fairy poke/mon picking at the threads. pots, jars pushed up against the home inside containing various brines that pickle vegetables or eggs. on shelves above such are smaller containers for dried herbs or tea leaves. surplus from what was grown that season & can’t fit inside. there are marks from pokem/on that are not native to the island originally, but call the island home just as their trainer does. those who fought alongside shea as friends; the pok/emon she caught on her journeys through hisui. the island is free to them but the shack, the cottage, the cabin; it is their home as much as it is shea’s. humble, cozy, warm. home.

the inside is much the same. naturally lit by sunlight during the day, peeking through windows open to let the fresh air in & the stale air from the night out. delicious smells wafting from within areas of the kitchen. a mix of teas, stews. incense on a table top in the center. a little nook area near a fireplace of which bookshelves loiter not too far off. old novels, worn books. so much so they look as if they may fall apart if one breathed upon them. one bookshelf stands out, up against a wall next to a desk. the shelves are filled with bound ledgers. the volumes of a p/okedex long out of date. written by ink & brushstroke. the desk is littered with papers, letters never sent. newspaper clippings, torn book pages all mentioning the galaxy corps. old friends now live within written text & memory. a single hallway further into the home towards the cliff carved out by both hand & tree, houses a bathroom. a tub made from stone & a small stream of water. a personal waterfall. go further down the hall & one reaches a small room with a large bed. a room for sleeping naught else. built into the wall, rounded & filled with plush bedding pillows & fluffy blankets. ivy lines the ceiling, long ago had it burst through the cracks in the walls. on it’s small branches flowers bloom when shea enters, they bud when shea leaves. at night slumbering amongst sha/ymin that refuse to leave their side. young little ones not ready to be on their own sneak into the bed or where ever is soft in the den, elder little beasties find respite throughout the cabin. never alone, never alone.

[beedokart]

Cover art for a short story I shall be writing this spring. You'll be able to find info about updates over on @beedokwrites.

[beedokwrites]

Another chapter, and have some art to go with it:

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

How about a coffee shop au where the reader gets Cal's order wrong and gives him a matcha latte when he ordered a regular hot coffee with his breakfast sandwich and you can go off form that :)

Taking limited requests. 3 slots left.

Gender Neutral Reader.

___________________

The morning shift--Calum had been told about how chaotic this shift could be. During his closing shift training, it was all they really talked about. How glad they were that they didn't have the opening shift. And of course, closing shift took a lot of heat because maybe not everything got done like it was supposed to. And sometimes even if they did do everything right, one particular manager was a known hard ass and nothing really seemed to appeased them.

And though Calum woke up at the ass crack of dawn, not even the sun hitting the horizons just yet, the start didn't seem so bad. But the second the clock hit six it was as if the dam broke. Being two weeks into the job, he felt like he had a pretty good handle on everything. Though the thing that still made his hands shake was fucking up someone's order.

"Matcha latte with a toasted egg and cheese bagel," he calls out, setting the two out together. Another drink is done and he caps it. "And a regular black coffee."

He doesn't even pay attention to who comes up--vaguely responds to the thanks with a quick 'you're welcome' and goes back to the blender for the next drink on the line.

The frother is a distinct buzz in his ears as Sydney, one of his trainers and now slowly becoming a work best friend, works next to him. But even with that noise, the soft "Excuse me" catches his ear. Calum glances up, grabbing the towel from his apron to clean his hands.

"What can I help you with?"

The smile is still bright in front of him. "I think my drink order got mixed up. I ordered a regular coffee with vanilla syrup. But this is a, uh, green," you laugh.

His heart thunders in his chest. Fuck, he knew he should've double checked that ticket like he was taught. He just assumed. "Oh I'm so sorry about that! Let me fix it. You said regular coffee with vanilla syrup right?"

You nod at the man, his brown eyes blown wide. He apologizes again and before you can tell him not to worry about it--that it happens sometimes, he's spinning on his heels. You watch him, towering over most of the other people behind the counter. His hair tucked up underneath the black dad hat and the gray t-shirt he's wearing hanging loose around his torso but tight over his shoulders.

You've never seen him before--not in the mornings at least. Not that you're a regular, but you do come in consistently. "Hey," Sydney smiles at you, shouting out another order for the customers waiting. "Everything alright?" And maybe you were a regular.

You nod. "Yeah, just a small mix up."

"Shucks, sorry about that. Is someone on it?"

"Yeah, um," you look behind her to the man with a cup of coffee that looks more like your usual. "He's on it," you say, looking back to Sydney."

"Calum--he's new," she says, leaning against the counter for a moment and just in that moment, Calum returns with your correct drink, setting it onto the counter for you.

"Sorry about that again!" he states again.

You shake your head at him. "It's really not a problem. Things happen. We're human and all."

"Oh, ain't you just the sweetest," Sydney teases before walking around Calum to go back to the machines. "Just don't be too sweet on him."

You laugh at her comment, taking hold of the cup in front of you. Something brushes along your fingers and when you look, Calum's holding out a straw for you too. "Thanks. Don't let Sydney be too hard on you."

"Oh--I can handle her," Calum laughs, knowing the glare that's landing him right now from Sydney. "But really, I am sorry about getting that drink mixed up."

You look up to him, noticing the bags that have just started to form and can see he means it. "Calum, it's not the end of the world. And even if it was, at least you were nice."

"God, I really hope it wasn't the end of the world." He's not phased at the sound of his name from your lips. He knows the name tag is pinned to the outside of his apron. But he likes the way it sounds when you curl your tongue around the 'L' in his name.

And the two of you linger in a deep gaze, only for a moment before he hears down the line the shout of needing more clean blenders. "I," he starts, throwing his thumb over his shoulders, "I should probably get back to work."

You nod, "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you around, Calum?"

You say it like it's a question, like you're hoping he says yes. "I'll be here for the foreseeable future," and he pauses, not having caught your name.

You give your name and he tries it over his own lips, then grins when you grin. "Well, good luck with the rest of today," you offer and then take a half step from the counter. Calum does the same, but retreating further into the eye of the storm.

He watches you though, pushing on the side door and then out into the finally morning sunrise. He's grateful for a moment that he works mornings this week straight, clinging to the smallest hope that you step back through the doors again.

Tuesday you don't show, having to leave Monday in the day to out a few towns for a conferences. When Wednesday comes around and the morning's pushing afternoon, Calum's hope wanes, but doesn't completely fade. People live busy lives. He can't fault that. But he just hopes he's not being a fool to watch every person that comes through the door, or even passes by the windows.

And just an hour before shift change, as the day's quieted, Calum's mind fills with the rest of things he needs to do. He has to go to the pharmacy to pick up some toiletries and then try to get home to get a couple readings done before his evening classes.

"Hi, Calum."

He pauses his work on the table he's wiping down to spin around. And there you are, a backpack slug over one shoulder and giving him a small wave. "Hi," he returns, feeling a small flutter in his gut. "Whata-what's on the menu today?" he asks, moving to go back behind the register.

You try to stop him, noticing only a few people in the place sitting with their laptops or books around them. "Oh, no, I-I'm not here to get anything really."

His brows furrow as he spins back around, leaning now up against the part of the counter that finished drinks are served. "Not here to get anything?"

You shake your head. "Well, not right now. I'm on my lunch and came by hoping to catch you, really?"

"Me?" he questions, trying to keep the silly grinning to a minimum.

"Yeah," you nod, and then drop your gaze to the floor. His black Nike's fill up your vision for a moment as you exhale and then look back up to his face.

His cheeks fuller than you remember them being, but maybe it's just because now you're really getting a good look at them. "Well, here I am," he teases with a tuft of laughter.

"So like, I really don't want to ask this while you're working because that just feels awkward. And you totally don't have to answer my next question either. I just wanted to let you know I get it, if you're comfortable with it." And he just watches you rambles, part of it because he likes the way you fiddle with your fingers and use your hands as you talk. Part of it because he's too frozen by fear to respond in any capacity.

So on you continue, "I wanted to know when you got off--so that I could ask you what I really wanted to ask you not when you're working. Because like, that just feels presumptuous and also you're doing service so I don't want to make you feel like you can't say no without it affecting your job. So like, would I be able to talk to you? Once your shift is done?"

"I'm off in about an hour. But if you're on your own lunch break I don't want to impede your work either," he returns.

"I-I can work remotely. I was at our shared office space downtown. But like as long as I have WiFi and my computer I can do my work anywhere."

"As long as you're sure and don't mind having to wait? But also you should probably actually eat on your lunch break?"

You tap the side of your backpack and only now does he see a small lunch box attached. "I packed it assuming I'd eat at the office. But then I realized due to my travel this week, I hadn't been by and I definitely want to drop by."

And it's the way you say definitely, like you're dreaming while looking at him, or breathless. And maybe you are giving the whole spiel you've just given. The doors open again and Calum glances over, to greet the new person, but glances back down to you. And fuck, your eyes are just too pretty not to get lost in. "Well, enjoy your lunch and our free WiFi and when I'm done, we can talk, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," you rush out, grinning and then watch him shuffle back to the registers. You turn, capturing your bottom lip between your teeth. And holy fuck, it feels like you're in middle school all over again dealing with your first crush. But there you didn't make any moves, especially not as outlandish as this one.

But you just need it to work out--that's all. Finding a table, you settle down, back facing the window, but able to see Calum at the register if you look up from your computer screen. He smiles whenever you catch his eye. The drink doesn't seem to take him long to make and before you know it, he's back out from the register, making rounds to wipe at tables and make sure no one else needs anything before heading back to you.

And he talks as he works, wiping more tables, putting chairs back where they belong. You find out he's in school, working as he takes night classes for his master's in Literature. He finds out you're working remotely for an agency, and though it's marketing, or that's what he gather he still doesn't quite understand it. But it makes you happy and he loves it when you laugh about your coworkers.

And the hour's flown by when the shift switches, Calum disappears to the back for a few minutes and you start the process of shutting down your laptop. But he's back before you get everything tucked away and he slides into the seat across from you with ease and a bit of a sigh of relief.

"You don't have to pack up unless you want too," he says.

And you pause, your laptop in its sleeve. "You really want to hang around your job after hours."

"It's not so bad. It's just the standing that's killer." You nod, understanding the struggle. "So," he starts. "What was this thing that-that you wanted to ask?"

And you can tell he's nervous, his gaze on the table and not on you. And it shouldn't be so goddamn endearing but it is. "I-I wanted to see if you wanted to go out sometime. With me?"

His head shoots up, his infectious grin lighting up his own face, even causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle. "I'd love too. I'm off next Thursday--if that works."

Thursday is nothing special, well you have your monthly town hall meeting that's just about the growth of the company, but you could take a half day and then make up the hours next week. "Thursday is good. Should we do lunch since you have classes?"

"Yeah, if you're okay with that. I heard about this new place, it's mostly breakfast but they stay open for lunch."

"Anya's?" you question and Calum nods. "Some coworkers say it's good. But I-I haven't gone yet."

"So there then?" he asks.

"Yeah--is it okay if we do it a little early. 11:30?"

His heart is a thunderous roar in his chest and he's really glad today he work a darker colored t-shirt because his pits are dripping right now. "Yeah, that's fine with me," Calum answers.

The two of you exchange numbers and he helps you carry your bag to the car. You insist he doesn't have too, but he does it anyway and up against the side of your car, you're kind of glad you took the leap of faith. The hat comes off and you can see fully now the mass curls on his head.

"Thanks," Calum starts. "For waiting to ask. I would've said yes, like literally either way. But I appreciate it."

"Yeah, no. I worked retail before this. It's hell with people hitting on you while you're on the clock. Don't even worry about it."

The sun is higher now, getting into your eyes just a little until Calum shifts and blocks most of it. "So I'll see you Thursday, for sure, at 11:30. Anya's."

"11:30 next Thursday at Anya's for sure. But I may also need a matcha latte before then," you tease.

"Oh, c'mon," he laughs. "It's barely been three weeks. And I apologized."

"I'm only teasing, Calum," you giggle.

He takes a small step backwards--he parked in the second row as to give customers the spots up front. "I'll have that matcha waiting on you next time then."

"I'd expect nothing less." And the two of you give one last wave before he spins completely around his apron thrown across his shoulder and he pauses for cars before crossing the parking lot. And you know you shouldn't thank the heavens you asked for a lunch date at the sight of his ass in jeans, but you do.

Inside your car, you laugh at your own giddiness. It's only one date. And who the hell knows how it's going to end--but for fuck sake, you did it. The phone rings through the bluetooth of your car as you dial your best friend to tell them the good news.

And unbeknownst to you, Calum sits in his car too, smiling to himself as he texts his housemates about scoring a date with you. And the entire thread rattles his phone from the coffee holder.

[write-r-die]

Man’s World - Part 2

ENEMIES TO LOVERS - After a solar flare ended the world as we know it, former spy August Walker becomes the most terrifying of the many warlords who pop up across the US. He leads his militia from town to town, taking what he wants and all killing those who resist him. And now he wants Lilah. And one way or another, he’ll have her.

Masterlist

August didn’t know what possessed him to save that girl. Maybe it’s just that he didn’t like killing women. Maybe he was impressed with the unique mix of bravery and stupidity that led the vaguely ethnic twentysomething to shoot at him, only to fail spectacularly. More likely, he was just bored. Life after the flash was hard and violent but painfully predictable. 

He thought she was pretty when he carried her from the city despite the bangs, but in the sunlight, he was far less impressed with her appearance. 

To be fair, she wasn’t well. Standing in the command tent before him, she wavered on her feet. Her clothes were burnt around the edges and her feet were bare. The enormous sunglasses she wore didn’t help her appearance, either.

“The Boss just spoke to you,” one of August’s lieutenants said from somewhere behind him. “Speak,” he commanded the girl.

People who try to shoot me always end up dead. That’s what August Walker said to her. What the fuck was she supposed to say back?

“Speak?” Lilah parroted, doing her best to sound confused.

Jack looked like he wanted to smash his head into a wall.

August kept his eyes fixed on the girl as he spoke to his soldier. “What did you say was wrong with her?”

“Concussion,” Jack answered. “Doc says she’ll be right in a few days.”

August hummed. He didn’t raise his voice or take his eyes off Lilah when he commanded the others in the tent to leave with one simple word: “Out.” 

Lilah’s expression grew more and more desperate as each person filed out until finally, they were alone.

“Are you a whore?” he asked simply.

Lilah was physically taken aback by his question. “Am I . . . ?”

August’s eyes roamed up and down her body. She looked a mess now but he could tell she cleaned up well. One of his many talents was the ability to sense a woman’s figure through her clothes, however unattractive those clothes may be. And he sensed Lilah’s figure was exquisite. Her face was, too, when it wasn’t smudged with ash and blood or half-hidden by ridiculous sunglasses. 

“Are you a whore?” August repeated.

Lilah couldn’t speak for a moment, too shocked by his bluntness. “No.”

August’s blue eyes raked over her one more time, his gaze unbearably intense. He might as well be licking her. “That’s too bad.” He turned back to the maps on the table.

Lilah cleared her throat when she grew uncomfortable with the silence. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“No.” The warlord continued to study his maps as if he wasn’t interested in her enough to even look up. Maybe that was a good thing, thought Lilah, considering how it made her feel when he looked at her.. “What did you do? Back before the flare hit.”

“Umm . . .” Funemployed? Was that an answer? “I was a camp counselor during the summers when I was in college.”

“What activity did you teach?”

She cleared her throat. “Archery.”

“Archery,” Walker repeated. “You should have used a bow and arrow instead of a gun to shoot me. Maybe then you would actually have hit something.”

She was silent for a long time. Her throat was painfully dry. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I would’ve left you behind on that sidewalk if I wanted you dead,” he said flatly.

“What do you want, then?”

He wanted to fuck her. 

After she’d bathed and changed and gotten her shit together, of course. August lifted his eyes from the table to give her that intense look again; that was answer enough.

He looked over Lilah’s head at Jack and subtly nodded towards the entryway. And just like that, Lilah was dismissed.

***

The people August Walker ordered to leave the tent start coming back inside the moment I’m dismissed. Pretty sure they were listening.

On my way out, I pass someone vaguely familiar but for the life of me I can’t remember who he is. “Hey,” I say anyway. I stop walking and so does he. 

He nods once. “Lilah.”

“Mr. Kewlani!” His name comes out in a shout not because I’m surprised to see him but because I’m happy I remember his name. 

He lived next door to me growing up. The only things I can really remember about him from childhood is that our dog pissed on all his plants and killed them and he hated us for it, and that he was condescending because of how smart he was. I’m not at all surprised that August Walker recruited him.

“Good to see you.” The fifty-eight-year-old physics professor doesn’t look pleased or surprised to see me. I can’t blame him for it, since we never talked or got along, but I feel slighted.

“You too.” I think to ask him about his wife and daughters, but they’ve been dead for years. One of the daughters was killed by a drunk driver before the flare, and his other daughter and wife succumbed to the strange plague that came immediately after. Lots of people did.

“Come on,” Jack says. He starts walking before I register his words and I have to scramble to catch up with him before he disappears into the tents.

“Where are we going?” I’m pretty sure this isn’t the way back to the tent I was in before.

He doesn’t reply. He stops in front of a big white tent - the sort people rent for outdoor events like weddings or parties - and pulls open the flap. It’s packed with army cots and outdoor recliners that have been flattened for use as a bed.

“Any open beds?” Jack calls to a woman nearby.

She pulls her toothbrush out of her mouth and uses it to gesture to the other side of the tent. “The one over there by me is free.”

“Great.” Jack turns to leave but I grab him by the arm.

“Wait, what?”

“This is your tent now,” he says, peeling my hand from his bicep.

“That’s it? No tour? What about - ?”

“Stiva,” Jack calls to the tooth-brushing woman again. “This one’s eggs are scrambled. Deal with her.”

And then he’s gone. 

Stiva finishes brushing her teeth and looks me up and down. Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a high ponytail. That, coupled with her cargo pants and tank top, make her look like the single generic woman in any action film. 

She must be smart or talented or important. August Walker only recruits useful people: doctors, engineers, plumbers and handymen, craftsmen, teachers, horse trainers and stable hands, architects, tailors, former military, and other things like that. And of course, prostitutes. I’m fairly certain Stiva isn’t a prostitute, though.

“What’s your name?” Stiva asks.

“Lilah.”

She looks me over again and seems to approve. “Stiva,” she replies. She walks me over to the other side of the tent and stows her toothbrush in a plastic box beneath her cot. “That one’s yours,” she says, nodding toward the one beside hers.

I sit awkwardly on the edge. There’s barely enough space between the cots for me to squeeze my legs in.

“You look star-struck,” she observes.

“Concussion,” I reply. “I’m pretty out of it.”

The thirty-something woman shakes her head. “No. I meant starstruck from meeting the boss.”

Now I really am confused. “What? How did - why do you know that?”

She rifles through the few personal items she has stashed under her cot. “I heard that some idiot with bangs tried to shoot the boss. I haven’t seen another grown woman with bangs in years so I assume that’s you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Are people talking about that a lot?”

“Not really,” she says, shrugging. “I only know cause I fuck Sy sometimes and he gets chatty after.”

“Sy?”

“He’s the boss’s right-hand-man,” she explains, frowning. “Nobody explained the chain of command?”

“If they did, I don’t remember it.”

“Did anybody even teach you the camp layout?”

“No. But I’ve been unconscious mostly so they never had the chance.”

She grunts and turns back to her cot. Finally she pulls out a french press and two cracked mugs. “Coffee?”

“God, yes.”

We go to one of the cooking fires at the center of camp for hot water. One of the cooks gives us some coffee grounds to use on the condition that Stiva make her a cup, too. 

She looks me over, smirking, as we wait for the brew to steep. “You’re the boss’s new girl,” she says, half a question.

“Not yet,” Stiva says before I have the chance to reply. “If she was with him, she wouldn’t be out here slumming it with the rest of us.”

The water blackens and Stiva pours us each a mug. She thanks the cook before we turn back the way we came.

“I thought you said people weren’t talking about it,” I whisper to Stiva.

“I said they weren’t really talking about it.”

“So I’m supposed to fuck August Walker,” I say after a long silence. It’s not a surprise but I don’t like the fact that everyone in camp seems to know. Even as we walk back to our tent, I feel eyes on me. The camp seems big enough that one new person shouldn’t be so obvious.

I finally ask the question I’m most afraid to have answered, “What if I don't want to sleep with him?” I swallow hard. “Will he . . . Is he the sort of man that can take no for an answer?”

“I’ve never thought about that - what would happen if someone said no to him. No one has ever said no to him for anything except maybe Miss Ally,” she says contemplatively. It takes a beat for her to respond to my question. “I don’t think he’d force you into anything. He’s a dick but he’s also a gentleman, you know?”

I do know. “I don’t know. I’m almost positive my body is the only thing he wants from me. Not my professional expertise or know-how.” And who’s to say he won’t dispose of me if I don’t serve the one purpose I’m here for?

“I mean, can you do anything?” asks Stiva. “Anything useful?”

“I taught archery at a summer camp in Maine,” I offer.

She looks ambivalent.

“Why?” I ask, slightly embarrassed. Being an archer sounds cool, but until the flare happened, it didn't have much of a real-world application. “What can you do?”

“I’m a surveyor and a cartographer,” she says. “Used to work in real estate. Help builders figure out boundaries for new projects.”

“Oh.” 

“But people here do all sorts of shit. There’s a dog breeder who used to raise pit bulls to be guard dogs for famous people; now they’re attack dogs for the boss. And there’s a twelve-year-old girl in our tent who’s a violin prodigy.” Stiva shrugs. “They keep anybody the boss might have a use for.”

“August Walker likes the violin?” I ask.

“Not as far as I know,” she says. “But he wants to preserve society and culture and all that for after.”

I follow her back into the tent. “After what?”

“After we settle somewhere for good.” She sits heavily on her cot. “The boss wants to make a new world in his image. Supposedly he’s got it all planned out.”

“That seems a little psycho.”

She stretches out on her back. “Sy told me that he used to be a doomsday prepper or something like that. He’s been waiting for the world to end for a while.”

I’m familiar with some of those rumors. August Walker was supposedly a would-be terrorist planning to cull the world’s population. Supposedly a bunch of powerful people were part of his cell - world leaders, even. As far as I know, they never put any of their plans into motion; the solar flare did their work for them.

***

Later in the evening, when the boss called for one of his usual girls from among the thirty-nine prostitutes in the camp, he imagined he was fucking Lilah instead of her. It made him furious, which made him rough. The prostitute would have more bruises than usual tomorrow.

He repaid her for the discomfort with an unopened bottle of tequila and a pair of diamond earrings stolen from a dead woman’s jewelry box during the last raid. That, coupled with the two orgasms he gave her, seemed more than enough compensation.

She left the tent late at night - he never let his women sleep there - and August was alone with his thoughts, which soon turned back to that stupid girl.

He wouldn’t give Lilah anything when he fucked her - and sooner or later he would fuck her. His favor would be more than enough compensation. She wouldn’t sleep in his tent, obviously, but he imagined her having a little tent of her own somewhere nearby so he could call for her whenever he wanted. And no one else would be allowed to fuck her.

He had a girl like that for a few months but he grew bored with her. When she asked his permission to leave camp and strike out on her own, he gave it willingly. She had the back of her hand tattooed with August’s mark before she left. It was essentially a guarantee of safe passage. No one would fuck with somebody associated with Walker, and if his men ever came in contact with her again, they’d know not to kill or hurt her.

Now he wanted someone like that again. That and more.

Someone who belonged exclusively to him not because the other men in camp were afraid to touch what was his, but because she didn’t want anyone other than him.

The last girl was an escort with a moderately successful OnlyFans account. She was essentially a prostitute. August liked that Lilah wasn’t. 

Seducing her would give him something less mundane to do in his free time.

***

They try to integrate me into camp life over the next week. All in all it goes pretty well, but when they give me a bow and arrows to practice shooting, it becomes abundantly clear that the concussion has fucked up my long-distance vision. I can’t shoot shit. I don’t know if I’m going to be nearsighted forever or if it will clear up as I heal. Miss Ally is displeased. 

It’s obvious that she is equal in rank to Walker, but on the civilian side of camp life. I get the impression they’ve known each other for a long time. She’s the only person in camp who doesn’t refer to or address him as the boss or just Boss. Always Mr. Walker. It’s still a respectful address, complete with a polite honorific, but just the fact that she uses his name seems oddly intimate, like maybe she knew who he was before he became one of the strongest warlords on the continent.

I don’t see Walker much. Meals are served in a huge clearing and most people eat together, so Walker is obliged to make an appearance most days, always at dinner. Most of us sit on the ground or in folding chairs but not him. He sits on a pale blue armchair that I think is made of velvet. The legs are gold and the back and arms are scalloped. I think it belonged to a woman before it became his throne.

The first time I see him at dinner, he keeps an eye on me throughout the meal, even though I’m nowhere near him. We make eye contact at one point. He smirks at me and takes a deep drink of his wine. 

The second time I see him, he ignores me. Well maybe not ignores, but he doesn’t pay me any attention. I don’t know why but it annoys me. 

Near the end of the meal, he crooks his finger at one of the prostitutes. They leave the clearing together, presumably to go off somewhere and fuck, and I’m almost offended by it. Then I come to my senses.

He’s a warlord, and true warlords have concubines. A lot of them. Just because he wants me doesn’t mean he wants me, exclusively.

For all I know, he’s got a girl from every settlement he raided. Maybe he keeps them as a token of victory.

That pisses me off. Men objectifying women, just like always. It may be the apocalypse, but I’m still a fucking feminist.

Walker doesn’t make an appearance at dinner again for two days. I’m filling my plate when he joins us on the third night. I know without looking that he’s here; the sudden quiet tells me all I need to know.

Things slowly start up again as I heap chicken and instant mashed potatoes onto my plate. It’s only when one of the cooks gives me a forceful tap on the shoulder that I look up.

“What?” 

“He’s looking at you,” the woman says through her teeth. She swings her head toward August Walker. He lazes in his blue chair like a king at a feast. When we lock eyes, he smirks at me, then motions with his forefinger for me to come to him, just like he did with that prostitute the other night.

I don’t move.

“What are you doing?” the cook says. “Go!”

“If he wants to talk, he can come to me.” I’m not a hooker or a dog. I won’t just come running at his beck and call.

The cook looks at me like I’m an idiot. 

It’s a dumb issue to take a stance on, especially when it seems my survival is contingent on letting him fuck me.

I seek Stiva out in the crowd. I haven’t made it halfway over to her before that kid - Jack, I think his name is - intercepts me.

“Boss wants a word.”

They’ve set up what appears to be an old Ikea office chair next to Walker’s surrogate throne. He gestures for me to sit when I get close enough. I flop down, making the chair groan.

Walker studies me for a long moment. He looks amused but pleased, too. All I can think about as his eyes rake over me are how blue they are and how the color of his chair accentuates them. “How have you been, Delilah?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“No.”

I shrug. “I can’t complain.”

“That’s it?” he asks, bemused. 

“What else should there be?”

Walker takes a deep breath through his nose and settles back in his chair. “I know for a fact how unstable your town was. I did my research. Most of it was already in disrepair, and the crime rates before the flare were . . . high. Here, you have a roof over your head and three meals a day.”

Not really a roof, but . . .

“I had a roof over my head before.”

“What did you have to do to get it?” he asks, voice gravelly and low.

“I’m not a prostitute,” I say defensively. “I told you that.”

“I’m not necessarily saying you are.” 

“Necessarily?”

He leans back in his chair. “You’re a survivor. You did whatever it was you had to do to stay alive in that shithole.”

Now I get it. “And you think I’ll do whatever I have to do to stay alive here.”

He sips his wine in reply, his gaze never leaving mine. He doesn’t speak when he’s done, just swirls the purple wine around in his glass.

“You’re not eating,” I observe.

“I hardly ever eat the plain food,” he says. 

I remember Stiva saying that there’s a hipster chef who forages for his ingredients somewhere in the camp, and that he cooked for the highest-ranking people. He was one of those chefs that foraged for his ingredients before that was necessary. I think I followed him on Instagram back before the flare.

“You ought to join me,” Walker continues. “Something tells me you appreciate a good meal.” His voice is like liquid sex. He’s a terrifying, ruthless warlord who’s done things so horrible I can’t even imagine them, but damn if he isn’t the handsomest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. 

The pretty ones are always assholes.

I level my gaze at him. “Are you asking me on a date?”

He actually throws his head back and laughs. It’s booming; conversations pause and heads turn at the unfamiliar sound. He has the sort of laughter that would be infectious if he weren’t so scary. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he finally says. 

“I won’t just spread my legs for a good meal,” I say, but it honestly depends on how good the meal is. 

Walker is exasperated. “Is sex the only thing you think about?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“No,” he agrees. “You’re rude, but you’re not an idiot.”

“You’re an asshole.” The words fall out before I can stop them. I slap my hand over my mouth like some idiot in a movie, as if that will undo what I just said. Why did I say that?

He’s going to hit me. Or shoot me. He’s going to do something to me and it won’t be good. Lilah, you stupid fucking idiot.

“No one speaks to me the way you do,” Walker says to me. “It’s refreshing, frankly.” His tone changes. “But don’t push it, especially when there are other people who can hear you. You won’t like the consequences.”

Walker downs the rest of his wine and stands. A handful of men scattered around us rise, too, and move toward him. His entourage, I guess. For a moment I think they’re each going to grab a limb and haul me away to some torture chamber or old-fashioned stockades, but they barely even glance my way.

Walker smiles wolfishly. “I’ll send someone to fetch you before dinner tomorrow. Find something nice to wear.” And off he goes.

[awake-dearheart]

it took me a couple days but here’s a rundown of things sebastian said during the zoom call with his trainer don saladino and the march challenge group. he was on for an hour and three minutes total. keep in mind this challenge was fitness oriented so most of the questions revolve around that. this will also be LONG.

first of all he had trouble unmuting himself which was hilarious

he had a carboard cutout of the falcon with him which made everyone laugh

he loved being able to support ronald mcdonald house and he was sad they couldn’t go this year. sweet baby

when he was asked what he struggles with in his fitness he immediately said body dysmorphia. like no hesitation. he said he felt like he could stand to be less hard on himself.

he prefers cardio over other kinds of workouts.

he mentioned a role he’s getting ready for that’s “a lot different” but he laughed it off and said he couldn’t talk about it. i’m thinking it might have been tommy lee?

he tries to workout even just a little before he goes to set even when his schedule is crazy.

when he started training he had NO idea what he was doing. it took him a while to get into a routine and figure it out. he credited don with working a lot with him and finding a routine that works for him.

he feels better when he can do something physical every day. he said it really helps him mentally because the two go hand in hand for him.

someone said they were learning romanian and asked him for phrases to learn in romanian he said (in romanian) “oh my GOD why would you do that?” he also said he thinks people learning romanian because of him is “one of the sweetest things.”

he was asked how he balances training to look good vs training to feel good and he said if he’s training to look good he’s never 100% satisfied. training to feel good and setting short term goals has been better for him. 

don praised him for working hard to pivot his focus on the overall vs the day to day. seb said it was a lot harder when he started than it is now.

someone asked him if the workouts or the nutrition was harder and he immediately started talking about pizza and how much he loves a good cheat meal. the chat blew up talking about his cheat day video for men’s health. 

seb asked don his favorite cheat meal and they went on a tangent about burgers and fries and vodka that had us cracking up. seb said he went through a period where he was eating some kind of chocolate every day.

someone asked if he found it mentally difficult to go from one body type to another for roles and he said absolutely. he said if he has a shirtless scene to do then a month before he cuts out ALL sugar. fruits, carbs, everything and he turns into a very irritable person for about two weeks.

he was asked how the pandemic has changed his training and he said of course it has. him and don worked together to create a program for him to do from home with dumbbells and they had to get inventive. he’s been running a lot too.

someone asked the strangest item he’s used for weights and he said he’d go to the grocery store by himself without uber or anything. he tried to do one big shopping trip to last him for a week and half and he’d be laden with bags and it took him an hour and a half to walk home.

he told a story about using a towel and a bar in his house and he said “you probably know it because some “super fans” love to leak my address. so kind. lovely people.” the chat became v enraged.

he’s never had to get in shape on super short notice. marvel usually gives him about a 2 month heads up before he has to shoot things.

someone asked if he was a dog person. he said he loves dogs and he’d love to have one but he travels too much to give one the right kind of attention. he said if he could have a dog he’d have a bulldog or a husky.

he was asked his favorite nyc cheat meal and his first answer was “seeing all of you there” and we all cracked up. his real answer was a pizza place called rubirosa. he specifically likes their white pizza. (who wants to go to new york and get pizza with me?)

who would win in an iso squat challenge? him or don? (iso squats are when you drop into a squat and you hold it. it’s been the most hated exercise throughout the challenge). his face was HORRIFIED when he remembered what they are and he said don would definitely win. “don you have thighs of glory” the group is contemplating making shirts.

he played some sports in school but he wasn’t a super athletic kid. he struggled in school a bit because he had an accent and people were picking on him. it took a long time for his confidence to build.

celebrate victories where you can. he talked about when he posted that shirtless picture from the gym as an example. he said it’s more for motivation and pride in his achievements than about showing off.

he mentioned the documentary “the weight of gold” as something he watched recently. he said it’s a good example of people who are gold medal olympians struggling with the same things as everyone else when it comes to fitness. he comes back several times to not being too hard on yourself. 

he hasn’t lifted any weights in about a month and a half but he’s been running. he’s surprised at the amount of muscle he still has because he thought he’d lose a lot of it.

taking breaks when you’re working on fitness is so important. he says taking a week off sometimes is ok if that’s what you need.

they have talked about pizza at least 5 times at this point (32 minutes in) and it’s HILAROUS honestly.

he hates leg day. he knows how important it is because you need strong legs but he prefers doing arms and chest. “the squats can be so annoying UGH.”

someone asked him his advice for people who are starting an acting career and he laughed and said “quit all social media.” he walked it back and said you have to find a way to quiet the noise. 

this mfer went to theatre camp when he was 15 and he did MUSICALS. we tired to get him to sing. it didn’t work.

“you gotta do you. you cannot lose you as you’re going. and you cannot care what people think.”

he talked about imposter syndrome in terms of getting reviews and stuff. he said when he gets bad reviews it hurts but sometimes when he gets good reviews he can think “oh my god they made a mistake” or “oh my god i have to deliver like this every time.” he said if you’re starting out ask yourself why you want to do this and make sure this is what you want to do day in a day out. make sure when you face rejection and obstacles you have the energy to push you to get back up and say “fuck you i’m doing me.”

recommended the book “the subtle art of not giving a fuck” as something he loves.

“there’s creativity in everything. you don’t have to be a pianist or an actor or a writer. there’s creativity in all functions. as people we’re all creative.”

he went back to instagram for a minute and said to use it for the right things and follow the things that you like or are inspired by. he loves that social media can be used to reach people but you have to filter through the negative stuff.

someone asked the meanest thing don’t ever said during training and he said don’s never been mean but he’s always been inspiring and motivating for him. cute lil bromance moment.

he was asked if it’s harder to get into shape physically for the winter soldier or mentally. he said now it’s more of a head thing than it was in the beginning. the physically part was challenging for him in the beginning because he wanted to feel strong to build his confidence. he felt he couldn’t be bucky without being strong. 

civil war was his real hair but when they started filming it wasn’t long enough so he had extensions. by the end of the shoot it was long enough to cut the extensions out. 

the line between overtraining and not being motivated to train enough is hard for him sometimes. things tend to come all at once or not at all and it can be a struggle. 

he meditates and does some kind of physical activity every day at the start of his day. it makes him able to do the things he needs to do for the rest of the day better.

he thanked everyone for their support of tfaws and “making us look pretty good.” he’s very grateful for the turnout.

don says falcon weird. that’s not important but i wanted to mention it.

running is his go to thing. he feels like it’s a good meditative thing for him.  his go to pandemic workout was 100 pull ups, 100 push ups, 100 sit ups, 100 squats and alternating with running. we all panicked and were like “100 PULL UPS AT ONCE??” and he was like no no no no no no no no space that shit out during the day.

he loves breakfast but he doesn’t eat it at breakfast time. he joked he was going to eat breakfast after the call (which ended at 7PM). he likes anything with eggs and avocado. 

there are still directors he wants to work with that he can’t get to see him for parts. he did three audition tapes, two in person auditions, and a screen test to get bucky.

he just recently learned what “thirst pics” are (he figured out from the chat it’s thirst traps). when someone told him that picture from the gym was a thirst trap he was like “oh great well that sounds terrible.” men’s health didn’t call him until after that pic. he had reached out to them before that but that was the thing that made them call.

“make fun of yourself. you have to not take yourself too seriously.”

they both talked about how being able to do things like this is a privilege. there are always days when seb or don or anyone walks into a gym and doesn’t want to be there.

this is the part that made me emotional as FUCK. he’s had days where he’s gone to set and been like “what the fuck am i doing?” he says every time that happens he thinks “this is the time they’re gonna realize i can’t do this. this is when they’re all gonna know i’ve never been good at this.” he said in those moments you can’t just say “no no no i’m the best.” he said sometimes affirmations work and they can be as simple as “i’m gonna try to have a good day today” and it doesn’t have to be “i have to be the best version of myself.” it can just be “i wanna have a good day today” but on the days when you don’t feel good about things and don’t know what you’re doing he said you have to go there and say “ok i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing. fuck everything.” be in the thing that’s happening to you and give yourself permission to be down for a minute. find a compromise with yourself. if you can’t run the same three miles you’ve run all week and you just don’t want to, maybe you go for a walk instead. (his example not mine i DO NOT run). when he’s been in those moments of defeat accepting it had lead him to things he didn’t plan for and he finds those moments to be gifts in a way. accepting it and saying “today is that day” your body and your mind can start moving into finding other little things to do.

he came back to pizza one more time. i love him.

he recognizes how lucky he is to have the life he has. he says it’s important to pay attention to give a fuck about things and to give a fuck about things that will help other people. 

watching him talk the whole time he seemed so happy and relaxed. he seems like such a light hearted and fun person and he laughed SO much

that’s the end y’all. thanks for sticking around and reading all my hastily typed notes

[bbykeijis]

ENEMiES TO LOVERS | s.kōushi

summary: when for some reason the karasuno nice guy isn’t so nice?? but maybe it’s because he secretly wants to rail you?? who knows but the feeling is mutual <3 requested by @thathoneybee3

author’s notes: sugawara owns my ass,, sorry for taking so long to get to this <3

genre: fluff,, slightly nsfw,, crack fic

okay so everyone knows sugawara gets along with a lot of people,, he’s just so kind and caring like that

but when your ass turned up at one of karasuno’s practice matches he just couldn’t deal with you

“sorry coach? who the hell is that?”

you were apparently applying to be the teams trainer,, he didn’t believe it,,, not at all

you did not look like a person who could handle conditioning or even a 100 m sprint,,, you’d probably fall over in ana egg and spoon race-

“suga stop glaring!”

“l/n, no! don’t glare back!”

when you had your first session with them you made sure to make suga repeat all his sets because he ‘wasn’t doing them right’

then he’d call you a bad teacher

the petty fighting between you,, the team couldn’t stand it <3

it was like this for a couple of weeks,, you would get all up in his face and he would reply with equal hatred

soon the hatred naturally morphed into teasing,, you started to get used to his stupid remarks and he got used to yours

“suga lift your ass!” “y/n stop looking at it!”

you made him stay behind once because he genuinely seemed to struggle with one of the intricate stretches you showed the team

even @ 10 in the evening,, the two of you stayed to work on it,, your hands having to guide his body throughout

the two of you had gotten closer emotionally & physically

then the dumbass volleyball boy had to trip over and pull you down with him

“oh wow ok?”

you ended up straddling the dude and you couldn’t find it in yourself to move (he also had his hands on your waist but it’s whatevaaa)

you try to diffuse the tense atmosphere by joking around,, “didn’t know you were such a sub, suga-”

you were cut off by him crashing his lips onto yours as he pulled you closer to him

that definitely caught you off guard but you found yourself clinging to him too as you made out in the empty gym

the next day...

uhm,,,

it was awkward as hell & everyone noticed

you turned up to their morning session late because you honestly didn’t want to face him

tanaka and noya noticed the atmosphere between you and suga and made sure to comment on it every chance you got

“you guys together?” “omg did you guys fuck?” “suga finally got some!1!1!”

yeah you needed some air

you leaned against the wall of the gym for breather when you felt a presence next to you

“tanaka i swear to god-” “i’m not ??? tanaka ???”

oh great, it was suga,, he stood next you and eyed you nervously (that was new wow)

“i like you.”

he was pretty straightforward with his confession but it wasn’t blunt,, the words just naturally left his system

“ditto.”

he frowned childishly, “say it back asshole!?”

“make me >:)”

then he made you ;)

hehe.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.5

A scream shocks you out of your fuzzy thoughts. You look around and notice Connor sitting alert and looking like he wants to run down the hallway this very instant.

“Connor?” the head snaps to you immediately and before you can even question his presence in your home he jumps up and barks then walks in circles near the door.

Great a dog who has no sense of horror movie tropes. Since the scream did come from inside your house you should go find the person who made it and see what's wrong. Also maybe get clarification on why they're in your home. You aren't dead and are still in the same clothes so you figure you're alright around them. You follow Connor to where Toby is, in your kitchen staring out the window standing at a very odd angle. Like he caught himself before he fell backwards but hadn't bothered to get up.

“What's up....oh.” is all you can say as you see Chonk's head whip towards you and Connor before he books it for the tree line. Damn that fat raccoon can run fast, good to know if he ever wants to chase you down in the future. Which he might if you don't leave his slice of pizza out today.

“'oh' 'oh', that's all yo-you've got to say about a giant fuck-ing ra-mrrow- raccoon!?!” maybe thinking this guy was composed and unphased was a misconception, if seeing Chonk has put his world views in question.

“I mean he probably just eats a lot of pizza.” to put it simply you never gave much thought to the fat little trash thief, he was just fat and he existed. Visiting your home for the slice he deemed his every other week. Probably had other homes in Kepler he terrorized for the same reasons. God knows Leo would never put up with a raccoon trashing his store for his pizza. Or even his home for that matter.

“He's nearly half the size of Connor!” looking down towards Connor you tilt your head.

“Are we talking about with his legs or just his torso?” you could maybe see the size comparison with the dog's body but with his height it was a different matter all together.

Toby rolls his eyes before going and sitting down at the small breakfast table where he seemed to have found your fidget cube and had been well fidgeting with it. You take the seat opposite of him, it's weird having a guest over especially when you didn't invite them in. Well now that removes the chances of him being a vampire you suppose.

Perfect not a kidnapper, nor a vampire, and he's helped you out twice now. The two of you might well be on your way to becoming best friends. That is if he could get past this episode of yours.

“I still don't know what happened last night, but I'm done with the freak out.” you say as you idly pet Connor.

“...What?” he's squinting at you trying to get a read on how anyone bounces back from something like that so calmly in a matter of hours. Especially when he'd been checking up on you and Connor only to see you still staring off into space.

“Oh, uh... I have Autism. Isn't good for much but helps me rationalize events quicker and move past emotional and mental breakdowns pretty quick too.”

“Is that an Autism thing?” you shrug at his question as he jerks his shoulders forwards a few times.

“Probably more of a me thing, but I've read the trait tends to be more common in those of us who are neurodivergent.”

You hear a murmur of telling someone later later. Filing that away to take note of another day you stare at Toby who in turn stares back. This goes on for a bit, you couldn't even classify it as a staring contest since you are both still blinking occasionally. You aren't really sure if you should say 'thank you' first and then ask the man what he's doing in your home or wait for him to break the silence. But as you stare at Toby, into his eyes, you get the feeling this man is more of a zombie than anything else. The type to drag along and go at a snails pace rather than get into the messy bits in one go...ironic choice for comparison.

“Thank you for driving me home...but why are you still here?” you hear a huff of laughter?

“You weren't really in a position...” knuckles pop “to be left alone. What if you got back into your car again?” his eyes cut and there's a bit of bite to his words...it wasn't directed towards you, you can feel that much.

“Fair enough.” you glance at the stove and see the clock shine a little before six. “Would you like some breakfast” his neck snaps to the left triggering your own to snap as well, “or a ride home?” you finish asking.

“Can you make something for Connor too? Don't trust you behind the wheel yet.”

“Oh sure! What does he normally eat?” Perking up at the thought of the dog being off duty, that means actual pets!

“He-mrrow- normally gets oatmeal with some fruit or veg and anything raw I can find.” He finishes with a whistle for Connor's attention, and then a pointed finger flipping down in front of him. The dog trots over and sits down, while Toby takes off the vest you look through your cupboards to find the rolled oats you'd gotten as incentive to eat in the mornings before realizing you only liked them on certain days.

“So what does Tobias normally eat?” you call out as you look for some honey you know you threw in the cupboards.

“Anything really. I don't do slimy textures or anything watery.”

“Watery? Like soups?” Found a can of pumpkin, it's still in date too, perfect.

“Watery like...when you put too much water in oatmeal.” He nods when you silently show him the can of pumpkin asking if that'd be fine for his boy, who is sitting down drooling from his smiling face as Toby tussles his ears.

“Ahhh, thin watery got it.” You hear movement and a few grunts from Toby as you assume he tics, trying to ignore them so they won't trigger your own you look through the fridge. You suddenly take a deep breath, while looking for a meat in your fridge, and let out a shrill trill. Kinda sounds like a Togepi's cry from the cartoon. Shaking your head your eyes catch the eggs and turkey sausages you have.

“Will turkey sausage and eggs work for you two?”

“Never had turkey sausage but it should be fine.” he's leaning forward resting his head in his arms on the table as Connor lays by his bouncing feet.

You set the eye to medium heat and put the sausages on first, leaving three out for Connor. He is a big dog after all. You turned your focus on preparing Connor's oatmeal while the sausages cooked. It was kinda nice having company over even though the circumstances weren't the best. Your neck jerks to the side three times before pulling back. There's more on the way your neck didn't crack and your body doesn't let up until it does.

“So what disorder do you have?” You turn to give Toby a confused look you hope he can read through your mask.

“...I have a few..you want the list?”

“No, the tics. Lower level Tourettes or what?”

“Oh, they stem from my” head jerking twice to the side before cracking “there we go.” “Sorry, they stem from my Autism, at least that's the best I can gather without seeing a specialist. Virginia doctors suck big time.”

“Tell me about it.” that perks you right up, you knew you caught a transatlantic accent, it's pretty much the lack of an accent that gives Virginians away so easily. You already have two guesses on where Toby came from.

“I knew it, you're from Halifax aren't you?!” Since you've turned around to face him you see the exact moment his face drops. Eyes shocked wide open.

“How...did”

“Oh it's easy once you know what to listen for, in fact it was the total lack of any distinguishing accent or use of slang that gave you a way. A lot of people don't notice what they take from their communities linguistically speaking. And for us Virginians it's what we don't take. It's such a bland neutral midpoint it's why it had been so coveted during the radio era and while we might've lost the in-fluctuations as time went by, no longer needing them for our voices to be heard over various frequencies....am I talking too much you can tell me to shut up, really you won't hurt my feelings.” you give Toby a minute to process everything you've just said.

“Special interest?”

“mmm, more a...an interesting factoid.” you hope he registers your smile, hell you hope he doesn't think you're weird. You know how much you can be sometimes, especially when you info dump or overshare information. He manages to nod along with you before finding his voice again.

“Lemme guess NOVA?”

“Pfft, seriously.” you really need him to at least register the disgust on your face if he hasn't been able to read you before, “Listen the Beach isn't much better but I'd probably off myself if I was from NOVA.”

“A public service really.”

You both stare at each other before breaking into a fit of laughter. It's nothing huge but it does seem to put Toby more at ease you noticed. In the time it took you to make breakfast for all three of you you've found out a little bit more about Toby.

He's uncomfortable talking about his hometown, at least you assume, so instead he mentions that he recently came to town with his friends, Brian and Tim. Talks mostly about Connor and you learn he's to help alert Toby of his Tourettes when driving and he can even detect seizures with Brian. That's amazing, service dogs have sure come a long way! And you love hearing what a silly puppy Connor is off duty, it makes you smile. Toby in turn asks about you, and you are such a well of stories. You tell him about your family back on the coast, about your recent move to Kepler, give him a little info on Kepler to help him adjust to his stay, and even get on the topic of your extensive work with animals.

“Sounds like you were working towards being a trainer, why didn't you?”

Making a sound that sort of sounds like a jumbled 'I dunno', “Sort of don't like people that much. Dogs are fine, less complex and less likely to complain when you do something in a different way. But a trainer doesn't train the dog, they train the people.” You're placing Connor's food in front of him as he sits patiently.

It's quiet for a moment as you place a plate in front of Toby and set yours down as well. Not tense just quiet, it's very calming really. Until Toby ruins it.

“Thanks Connor.”

Like he's a voice actor who is over exaggerating the sound effects of a dog munching away at their bowl. Connor inhales harshly before diving head first into the bowl. The dog is ferociously tearing into his breakfast and you can't help the laughter that spills from you at his enthusiasm. Hands coming up near your face and shaking as you shift from foot to foot. It's a happy stim, cute dogs are of course a trigger, someone can complain later you're happy to see a happy excited pup any day.

Taking your seat and turning your attention to your food, you see Toby hasn't touched his own. He's staring at the plate with a furrowed brow, he glances up to you as you remove your mask. You feel a bit vulnerable to be honest.

“Oh is something wrong? Do you want something else?”  He's a guest who's helped you twice now the least you can do is make sure he leaves your home full.

It takes a moment but he gathers his thoughts to explain, “I have a scar...it's pretty bad.” he looks away from you.

You tilt your head not quiet understanding what he means, “Cool story, do you want me to look away?”

He stalls at this, you just keep throwing him for a loop since you met the other day. While he thinks on it you scoop some of your eggs on your spoon and into your mouth. Perfect texture and prefect flavor, today will be good.

Toby seems to have made his decision and without any show he takes his mask off to begin eating. You can see the scar he was talking about, and while the currently red and bleeding'?!' scar on the left corner of his mouth was bad it wasn't much compared to the gaping hole further up that side on his cheek. You can clearly see the even whiter, how this boy is so pale is beyond you, skin around the edges suggesting the wound was older and had started to heal at some point. But you could see most of the teeth on the left side of his mouth. You've never seen these teeth while they were still in the head. A skull or 3D model yea. But never a living breathing person's head. It's fascinating really, you hadn't even noticed that you finished your breakfast as you watched him eat, you were so enthralled.

“You know your lip's bleeding right?” eyes never leaving the boy's teeth as you see them grind down the eggs into the tiniest particles. Neat!

“Rwhatf?” the way he can talk with his mouth full without spilling it from the hole is fucking magic and you won't hear another word on it.

He takes a drink of water, again it doesn't spill. Then you notice the slight tilt of his head...oh he's had practice doing this. Impressive honestly.

“That's what you choose to comment on?” his eyes narrow at you're still gawking form.

“I'm sorry I've just never seen those type of teeth still in head, normally muscle and...and skin cover them. So this is really cool to see them in action!” gosh you're so damn weird. By his stupefied expression Toby seems to think so too.

“Plus the wound looks healed but the lips look fresh,” you get up and grab a few paper towels bringing them over to offer to Toby, “Not to mention it's bleeding and you haven't once wiped it.”

He doesn't reply as he takes the napkins from you and dabs at his scarred lip, looking back and seeing blood just as you said. He was right when he thought he'd been biting himself a few hours ago. He'd totally forgotten to check after getting you home.

“Well I don't feel it so I didn't know actually.” he just resumes eating as if this conversation didn't happen.

“Didn't, didn't, didn't” you get stuck in a loop for a bit before breaking out “you didn't feel it? What do you have congenital insensitivity to pain?” you ask incredulously.

“I haven't heard it called that since I got diagnosed.” still eating he looks at you through his long eyelashes.

This dude could not be a real person. You had to have been imagining your dream friend. Everything you learned about Toby was more interesting than the last...at least for you it was.

“Medical history podcasts are interesting.” you shrug, “should I get the first aid kit?” at his shrug you get up and go to your bathroom to retrieve the kit.

Coming back into the kitchen you catch Toby lowering your plates for Connor to lick clean. You don't see a problem with it but you will wash everything twice since the pup has slobbered on nearly everything anyway. When you don't say anything he lets Connor continue before placing the dishes in your sink.

“Such a big help” you say patting Connor's head as you pass him, “Yea I really am” Toby says as he sits back down. Propping his arm up on the table to rest his head on his knuckles, it was such a fluid and casual motion. As if he's sat at this table everyday of his life, like this was his home and you were his guest. Tied in with how comfy he is man spreading at your kitchen table you'd say he made himself at home just fine.

You smile and scoot your chair next to him first aid kit in between you on the table. Toby looks between you and the kit before leaning in closer for you to work. Grabbing the antiseptic cleaning towels you go to wipe Toby's lip when he flinches away. Probably faking to see your reaction.

“Oh, fuck off you have CIPA.” you laugh grabbing his chin to keep him in place. He rolls his eyes “And you're weird.” The vibrations feel weird against your fingers.

“I know.” you continue cleaning the small bite mark? Well he does have CIPA he wouldn't be able to feel the pain if he was gnawing at his lips. Would he be able to taste the metallic tang of his blood or were taste buds effected by the disorder too? You might need to do another deep dive on this, it just became relevant. Maybe an anxious tic, judging from the larger wound it could be possible. Wearing a mask must help to hide it but not not to stop it getting worse if no one can call you out on it.

“That wasn't an insult...” he says making you look up into his eyes as you dry the wound, “I know.” You smile down at him, knowing this time he can see it on your maskless face.

When you finished cleaning his wounded lips, you drove Toby and Connor back to their home. Which turned out to be the RV at the forgotten entrance of the forest. Toby had been a little wary you knew where he was talking about but seemed to shake it off just as quick when you mentioned hiking a lot and using that entrance because it was the closest to you.

He had put Connor's vest back on and hopped in the back with him. You noticed from the review that Connor's full attention was on you.

“This set up let's him focus on the driver, so he'll tell us if something will impede your driving.” Well that explains Brian's position the first time you four met.

Nodding you sync you phone with the car's bluetooth and pass it to Toby with spotify open.

“Rules of the road, passenger picks music.” you say simply when he questioned it.

He quickly clicked your last playlist. Probably either too lazy to find something or trying to get a better read on you. Music says a lot about a person even if not everyone thinks that way. And unfortunately for you this playlist screams mental illness and a need for therapy. But you have folk punk. So who needs therapy when you can just scream cry these lyrics.

Toby doesn't comment on it, either just totally apathetic or maybe he likes it. He's a bit of an enigma, he's open and honest for the most part but saves his opinions unless directly asked.

Even after making it to the RV without incident Toby tries to distract you for a bit and tempt you out of the car with the possibility of playing with Connor. As fun as the idea sounds and as much as you don't want to be rude, you're very tired and drained. Probably more from “hanging out” with Toby this morning than your actual episode last night. Plus you understand Toby's just trying to be nice and maybe ensure your safety.

“Could I maybe rain-check? I'm actually really tired.” you say with your most polite smile, though he can't see it through the mask  you know he sees the crinkle of your eyes.

“Sure, just get home safe.” you feel that's less about you, but you aren't sure what the hanging subject is. So cryptic.

“Yup,” you chirp, “See you later Tobias!” as you start to back out back onto the road you hear Toby say “ Later YN.”

Driving off you can't keep the smile off of your face. Toby's a nice guy, you hope you get to spend more time with him. And this time the thought isn't centered around also hanging out with Connor. Just about enjoying Toby's company.

Getting home and locking your door you strip your jeans and flannel, leaving you only in your muscle tee, and curl up in your unkempt sheets. You'll do laundry later, right now was time for a little nap.