#every time I find someone to buy farm fresh eggs from I have to move | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

Forced Marriage II

Hello!! The awaited second part is here! Refresh memory here

Thank you so much for waiting and I promise, one more chapter and this trilogy is done. Also I already have the idea and ending, so it's going to be fast.

A/n : I cried in the middle of writing this. A bit too carried away by the emotion of explaining (y/n)'s abusive father. I cried like cried a lot and sobbed. Blew my nose and wiped my eyes but as I type tears keep falling (I hope I am not the only one crying)

trigger warning : character's death

tagging : @yutahoes @neopalette @swagmonsterofficial @byunniebaekhyunnie @huniehoeee

writing net : @supermwritersnet @multifandomnet

“Good morning Mam, is (y/n) awake?" Baekhyun greets the young lady watering the small garden on the front porch.

“Oh Baekhyun! What is it that makes you come early in the morning? And No she hasn't” your mother looks at the young energetic man in front of her. Memories flash by her eyes when she still remembers Baekhyun being the small cheerful boy from next door. Puberty does hit him well, your mother thought.

“Did you bump your head last time mam?” Baekhyun playfully asks, he knows your mother close enough to crack jokes and secretly your mother loves his playful jokes.

“Oh Baekhyun, you’ve never changed! Always the fun silly careless boy from next door. Now, I know you’re here to deliver milk right?” your mom takes a peek at the truck Baekhyun’s brother is handling.

Well the Byun family owns a farm and supplies milk and eggs to this town and the neighboring town. They’re a well known family for it.

“Do you mind if we get one more bottle? We have guests today.” Your mother takes out her wallet to pay for the milk and Baekhyun nods “We have plenty today! I’m glad your guest gets to taste this town’s best milk. Who is this lucky guest mam?” Baekhyun asks as he puts the milk down to the front patio.

Your mother comes back with some cash and gives it to Baekhyun along with a basket of fresh bread she just baked this morning.

“It’s your favorite bread. I see there’s a lot of deliveries today.” your mom smiles seeing the truck full of eggs and milks.

Baekhyun nods “Yes, business is doing good.”

“Oh about the guest, well he’s (y/n)’s future fiance. Hope you can meet him soon and be friends with him. He’s a nice guy, like you Baekhyunie.” your mother taps his nose like she used to when Baekhyun was nine.

Baekhyun’s smile falls when he hears “(y/n)’s future fiance.” what is this? Why has he never heard the news from you?

He has a lot to ask but his brother already honks the horn and Baekhyun comes back to his senses

“Come over for dinner or lunch next time Baekhyun!” your mother offers a polite invitation to the young lad and Baekhyun puts on his smile again as he bows “Thank you and I’ll see you soon mam.�� he waves goodbye and jumps into the free seat next to his brother.

“Have a nice day you two!” your mother sends the Byun brothers off and descends to the kitchen with the fresh milk.

“Baekhyunie,” she sighs and hides a small smile “Always charming and sweetheart, some lady will be lucky to have him one day.”

Baekhyun’s brother hears everything, but he is not aware of the romantic feelings both you and Baekhyun share. He only knows the relationship between his brother and you is platonic.

“Look at (y/n), it’s like only yesterday their family moved in and both of you are so young. Running around carelessly, getting bruises from trying to climb trees, and woop she’s engaged now. When will you get a fiancee Baek?” his brother jokes around and wiggles his eyebrow to Baekhyun who only keeps his head on the road by the window

He sighs “I don’t know, why don't you get married first. You’re the brother here.” he scorns

You spend the day waiting for your neighbor’s head to pop up on the window but until lunch he’s not back yet. Your mother told you he’s away to the town and the neighboring town for the day but usually by afternoon they’re back. There’s nothing much for you to do since Sehun bid farewell and said he’ll return next week with the plans all ready and the wedding can happen soon. You don’t even have to buy a dress because your mother wants you to use hers, since its the tradition. You scoff in your mind, when do you ever have a chance to make a choice?

Even something as simple as what outfit to wear to meet someone, your mother won’t let you choose by yourself

Tea time makes you finally move your butt from sitting next to the window. His room window is still shut closed and the truck is still not home. Did something happen to them? Your worry disappears when the truck comes into your sight but you already got yourself dragged out of your room by your mom.

Baekhyun washes his body quickly and climbs up to his room after faking a smile to his parents. His brother is busy counting today’s revenue but Baekhyun opens his window and sits down only to stare at yours which was still open.

He can see your room, how the lights are on and he knows that means you were dragged out and you didn't have the chance to turn the lights off.

He sighs and closes his curtain, watching your empty room already makes it hard for him to breathe. What about the day when you will move into Sehun’s house?

Judging by his car yesterday, Baekhyun knows he is from the city and he is rich. Will Baekhyun be able to wake up in the morning knowing that the reason he wakes up everyday is now taken away from him? Not that he can actually say “taken away” since he never claims you as his.

You sit uncomfortably on your chair. Your father keeps on talking about this wedding. He doesn't even realize he’s indirectly saying “I am marrying you to Sehun just for the sake of my business so it won’t crumble down and you’ll live a good life after I die.”

Your ear burns with every single word your father rambles. Yes you grew up with his strict rules, you got hit several times but this… setting up your marriage and pressing on you to accept it as his last wish hurts the most.

“I don’t love Sehun.” you try to speak up your voice.

Your dad chuckles as he sips on his tea “I never said this marriage is based on love.”

You gulp and look at your mom with your red eyes. You’re ready to cry and scream here that you’re tired of your life being controlled but your mother shakes his head gently with a pleading look and you don't want to hurt her feelings so you keep your lips shut.

Life feels like hell after Sehun’s constant mail filled with questions of which flower you want, what color you want his tie to be and whatever useless question he asks (it’s useless because you don’t intend to bother thinking of which color or flower for a wedding you don’t want).

Since the day Sehun left, you’ve never met Baekhyun too and that is odd. Something about the way his window is always closed when you wake up, how he never pops his head randomly at the window, his constant busy days that you don’t hear any knock of pebbles on your window and the disappearing sunshine in your life.

Your wedding invitation is distributed already to everyone that’s within the inner circle and in your hand now lies one more invitation you can’t bring yourself to hand.

“Byun family” was written on the addressed invitation. You hold the invitation in your hand and almost drop it when your mother suddenly enters your room and questions you with “Whose invitation is that you’re still holding?”

You gulp “Baekhyun’s” your voice croaks and your mother nods.

“Why are you not giving it to them?” she sits down next to you and runs a hand on your hair.

“I haven't seen him and I want to give it to him.” you lie. Well to be honest, you’d rather have your mom deliver this to his mother but you need an excuse to meet Baekhyun and he’s been gone so you need to see him. At least see him before you are married to another man you barely know.

Early in the next morning, you wake up to the noise from the window. You open the blinds, looking to find the ruckus and that's when your eyes pop open. There you see Baekhyun jumping around the garden and his family are just smiling and patting his back. You saw a white envelope in his hand and you're trying to remember if he ever tells you about waiting any good news. No, Baekhyun never tells you anything. You open your window and pop your head out waiting for the happy man to notice you and maybe share the good news with you, but until he climbs into his room, he didn't spare you a glance and instead he's calling someone and you're sure that is Chanyeol.

You tried to eavesdrop but it's impossible despite the close distant, someone was using the blender downstairs. Annoyed, you toss some rock to his direction but it all doesn't hit him.

Now, you're mad. What made him ignore you, was it that carnival night incident? After that you never met him… so is that why he is still ignoring you?

You wave and try to get his attention, to which he completely didn't see. Alas, your mother calls you for breakfast and you have to go.

The sweet smell of waffles make you smile and lighten up your sour mood.

"What's the good news in Baekhyun's house?" You ask your mom when she looks like she knows something.

She smiles as she sips her tea "Oh didn't you hear? He was auditioning for a record company and well he sent his tape and he won the offer. The company wants him to move to the town this weekend and they will begin his contract and discuss his debut. Oh that Baekhyun!" Your mom wipes a tear that fell, as if he is her son and she is so damn proud.

Your father smiles "Good fella, he sure will make it big. I remember him singing in the town hall when he was eleven! Good vocal, good looks, easy personality. I think the company made a good decision."

Both your parents are so happy, but you… something inside your heart is furious. How come he never tells you about this, will he leave you? Leave you for a dream that might flop!

You hide your feelings during breakfast and after cleaning up, you sneak out to knock on Baekhyun's window.

The mischievous grin you memorize by heart appears in the window and he gladly opens it up so you can climb in.

"What makes you climb in my window?" He calmly asks. His stupid smile still there as if he didn't do any mistakes and he was surprised you are here.

You sigh "You lied."

He shrugs his shoulders "You lied first."

You scrunch your brow "What do you mean?!"

He sits down and you copy him "Well, you didn't tell me the truth that you are engaged."

You froze and he slaps your back "Guess my proposal last time wasn't good. Congratulations." He tried to joke it off but you are tearing up.

"Don't congratulate me. I don't know him and I don't love him."

Baekhyun sighs "It's father again isn't it?" He places a comforting arm around you and you bury your face in his chest. Crying your heart out and calming you down.

"I'm sorry honey, I couldn't propose wealth to your father and I couldn't even ask your hand for marriage with a diamond ring. I'm sure that lucky guy has so many to offer you." He rubs your hair but his words sting more and you punch him "I don't need that. I just want to be with you."

"Well, we can still be friends." He tries to hold his emotion back at the word friends.

"But I want you as my husband! I love you." You stare into his eyes and see his eyes smile "I just need to hear that. I also love you."

"And you are not telling me that you auditioned for that singing company!" You punch his chest again.

Baekhyun giggles "Sorry, I heard your mom said about the fiance and I was so sad and mad at myself for not claiming you first… so that made me send my audition tape because I thought that you're going to be his and it'll hurt me."

"So you're leaving me with that man. You run!" You let out a breather

Baekhyun bites his lips "Well, I have to chase my dream like you always said."

"My dream is to be a singer." Baekhyun stands up and shows you the acceptance letter.

You read it through the tears "This is so far away Baek."

"Well, but it's a step closer to singing in stage!" He stares at you with passionate energy in his eyes and you couldn't bring yourself to beg for him to just stay here and be your neighbor so you can at least wake up and see him and feel less bad.

"Now, I have to leave this Sunday. Do you want to spend the rest of the week with me?"

You nod and hide the invitation behind your back. No he shouldn't know that you're getting married. Let him think he is only your fiance that won't hurt him.

"It's Tuesday already, we have 5 days."

You wipe your tears and lock your eyes to the ecstatic boy.

"Later i will write songs about you! About our friendship and about our memories. I'll make money and I can get you that diamond ring and we can host a wedding you love! The simple one in a garden." He pretends he is walking down the aisle and you just want to disappear. No one should break his heart but if he must get his heart broken why must it be from you?

"So, (y/n) wait for me okay. Don't get feelings with this man."

You scoff, Baekhyun doesn't even know the man's name.

"And then one day I will return to you and we can live like our dream." He takes your hands into his and twirls you around the room. You laugh and giggle, feeling alive from the small action you missed.

He ends with hugging you and you wish so hard that life could change its path and you can be with Baekhyun.

"Congratulations Baekhyun!" You whisper

5 days. 5 days to Baekhyun's departure and 6 to your wedding.

Day 1, you rush your fitting and got to spend the afternoon walking to the rose garden near the forest.

Day 2, Baekhyun starts packing and you're using the chance to practice your wedding speech and your walk. The afternoon was spent together strolling around down town

Day 3, You had to pick the dress up and Baekhyun had to legalize some of his documents. You sneak to his rooftop that night, both of you just sitting and enjoying the starry nigh.

Day 4, You help him pack only for him to realize your body has bruises. He stops you from helping and folds your sleeves "What else did you do?"

You shake your head and unfold the sleeve trying to shake it off saying it's just a small problem but Baekhyun could see the fear in your eyes and he knows you're lying.

"Wait for me, I'll save you. I promise." He pulls you into a hug and for the first time, you press a deep kiss into his lips.

Day 5, You hand him the invitation and you're glad you kissed him last night because right now all you can see is your feet and how Baekhyun's hand trembles. His hair hides his eyes but from the way his lips shake and his body shakes, you know he is furious and disappointed at you.

"I am sorry." You whisper

"Why not sooner." He asks, his voice so bitter and dry. His eyes still avoid yours.

"I want to spend my time with you before you go."

"But why you keep this invitation until today?!" His voice cracked and you cried. This time, he doesn't console or calm you down. He lets you cry alone

He closes the invitation "You could've given me sooner and I won't be promising you all those dreams. Now I sound like the jerk who made promises to a girl who will be married in two days! Grow up (y/n)! If I knew this-"

You cut him off "If you knew this, you'd avoid me Baek! And I wouldn't want to waste my precious 5 days to be with you. Heck who knows if this might be the last time we see each other." You're furious too and Baekhyun shakes his head "What are you talking about. We're adults! I'll definitely accept the news like a mature man. I won't give you the silent treatment."

You scoff "You would. I know you Baekhyun."

"And if you know me… do you know that because you did this, i am now so i don't know… i'm " he pauses

"You hate me?" You ask that

He shakes his head and stomps his leg "I love you okay! But this is not right! I'll. You know what?" He couldn't speak right and couldn't think straight

"This will make my departure easier. You do know artists cannot date and I'll be busy. Well, now I won't have the reason to think about you and our dream. You're going to be with him forever and i? I will be the fool who didn't know you're already someone else's. Goodbye. And congrats."

"No Baekhyun. Please, sorry. I cannot do anything!"

"Yes I know. You're just too afraid of everything your father said. You can't fight for yourself and oh I'm tired okay! If you told me earlier, we could think of a way to stop this. But now it's too late! I'm leaving tomorrow and your wedding is ready! Don't make yourself an embarrassment by canceling the date. Go, live your silver spoon life. Goodbye (y/n) it was nice knowing you."

Baekhyun steps inside his house, closes the door and you're there staring at the floor, eyes still wet.

He's right . It's too late.

You force yourself to go home and well, you didn't even get to send him a proper goodbye.

Baekhyun just left like that, with a simple goodbye from the window and he’s gone. You are also preoccupied by the busy preparation for the big day tomorrow that you don’t have time to ask Baekhyun about his arrival or well updates.

While drowning in the sadness of losing Baekhyun, your best friend, your love, and your dream, you have no soul left when you have to recite the vows. The wedding bells deafen your ears, the smile from the guests blind your eyes and when Sehun kisses your lips, your tears fall because Baekhyun’s right everything is too late to be fixed.

You’re glad Sehun didn’t force you to sleep with him on the first night. He respects your decision and you sleep peacefully that night, mostly because you’re tired of thinking and the day is tiring.

Your morning wasn’t any difference than before, despite living in a house not far from home, you didn’t feel any difference. Well, Sehun is as stoic as your dad, his morning is filled with coffee, newspapers, and him checking his agenda.

“We will be busy this week, your dad wants to move the company ownership to us, you will follow me to the office. Go dress up smart and I’ll see you in the car an hour from now, is that enough?” he asks and you nod.

The maids here clean up the table as Sehun leaves to fetch his documents and working bag and you just hope Baekhyun will reply to any of your texts.

The paperwork takes your whole one week, office paperworks, house ownership, marriage legalization and well with your father’s health deteriorating it’s been hard for everyone to keep signing papers when father is in the hospital. Your father has already prepared his last wills and all beneficiaries.

You finally get news from Baekhyun’s mother saying that he already signed the contracts and the company loves him and wants to make a great debut for him. He’s preparing to write songs and he is arranged to debut in two years if he is good.

One month after being Oh Sehun’s wife, you begin to see a difference in your husband’s attitude. Yes he can be a caring man, his cold facade is slowly gone, but the sly look in his face is still there. You don’t know what but something in your guts say that this is just the calm before the storm. Your father’s condition gets worse and the hospital announces that he will probably have months left. You take turn with your mom in looking after dad. He’s in the bedroom lying down half alive, the machines keep his heart pumping and the oxygen tube in his nose forces oxygen into his lungs. You feel bad for him, despite all the pain you grew up with, your dad was a responsible person who never leaves you and your mom.

“I am sorry (y/n) for being a bad father. I hope you forgive me and I hope your future will be good.” he said that one afternoon when he saw you crying on his side. You were crying because you were telling him your heart about how he hurts you but he was trying his best for his family.

“I am sorry I cannot be your ideal daughter.” you hold his hand and he smiles weakly, “You’re all I would ask for. I love you and mom so much but I’m just so bad am I not? I hit you a lot.”

You cry harder, “It was because you care about me.”

He shakes his head “I shouldnt have been that hard. You’re a flower after all, we need to handle you with care”

“But you trained me to be a warrior dad. And whatever storm I will face one day, I will be thankful that you beat me as a kid so that I won’t just cry and accept fate if things go wrong.”

Your father lets another tear fall “I hope you don’t have to experience that time, but if you have to, I know I prepared you well.”

You hold into his hand tighter “I forgive you dad. Do you forgive me?”

He smiles “I never hate you love, I always forgive your mistakes every night before I sleep. I just have to punish you so you know that everything comes with consequences.”

You nod “I’ll remember that, how are you feeling dad?”

He coughs “Feeling like a sinner confessing his sins, but I’m glad I have time to tell you this.”

You kiss his hand and he takes a deep breath. “Be happy my flower, use the wealth for good stuff, and always help others. Remember that everything takes process.”

Your mom comes into the room and when the golden sun rays kiss your dad’s face, he glances to you and your mom. His sincere smile blooms and both you and your mom hold his hands, he takes one deep breath “My job here is done, I love you both.” he lets a big exhale and there goes your father. A great man who just can’t express his love in the best way.

Come to think of it, he is always coming home whenever he can. He tries to go home fast so he can eat dinner together. He only starts breakfast when all the chairs are filled. He taught you how to use a screwdriver, he taught you chess so you can beat your nosy friends. He helped you ride your bike. He’s the one who pays all of your living cost and not for once has he made you worried about what the family will eat for today. When life wasn’t as easy as this, he made sure you can still get a new dress on special days and he tries his best to bring you to the circus tour. Wealth came to your father when he was old and you were a young adult, and now he doesn’t have the time to enjoy it too much but he gave it all to you.

Baekhyun trained so hard day and night. His will and desire to be an artist beat all of his homesickness and exhaustion. He always appears in the training room with a big smile even though he has to go home half asleep. The company loves his attitude and promises a lot of good things for him. The boy just smiles, saying he’ll be happy as long as his dream of being an artist comes true. He heard about your dad’s death from his family and actually came home to join the funeral. He saw you but you were too sad to notice him and so he disappeared the next day. He noticed you moved back into your mother’s house because you don’t want her to feel alone. Sehun lets you do that, and because your mom insisted Sehun to also stay there, now the three of you live under the same roof.

Two years after your father’s death, Baekhyun has his debut. Well, it has to be delayed because the company saw that it’s going to be better to debut in Summer than in Fall. His hard work paid off when you finally see his name rising in charts and appearing in music shows. His hair is no longer boring, it’s painted silver white and you never think Baekhyun will look hot as an old man, but here you see him looking so handsome and lively as he finally gets to sing on a stage for thousands of audience. He was labeled as the successful rookie and he’s been offered a lot of advertisements and special appearances. You’re happy whenever you hear the town people talk about his name, or when the radio turns on his song. You missed him, you always text him but he rarely replies.

Everything seems going according to plan, but your guts were right. Those days were just the calm before the storm.

To be continued….

“(Y/n), come to the hospital now.”

“(Y/n) a package is here for you.”

#baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #baekhyun angst #sehun x you #sehun x reader #sehun angst #exo angst #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun imagine #sehun scenario #exo fanfic #exo series

77 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 4 years

Text

Reasons Wretched and Divine (Part 3)

↪ Genre: hybrid au, polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, pregnancy

↪ Pairing: dog hybrid! Namjoon x Reader x Golden Retriever! Jimin

↪ Summary: You live on an isolated but sprawling farm with your abusive husband. But things start to change for the better when you adopt a retired police dog hybrid named Namjoon.

↪ Tags: Mentions of psychological abuse, physical abuse, concussions, hurt/comfort, hybrid mistreatment, Jimin is a little hopeless, first time saying i love you, heavy kissing/touching over clothes, pregnancy, overprotective namjoon, romanticized farm life.

↪ Song rec: Zero o'clock ~ BTS

↪ W/c: 5.9k

🐾 PART 1 🐾 PART 2 🐾

- Taehyung’s smile, waiting to welcome any hybrid to the farm and offer them a bunk and a cup of tea or coffee, does wonders for your retention rate at the farm.

- Pretty soon more hybrids are staying more nights or asking you how long they can stay. And you always reply “as long as you need too” (though there are a few who just only stay a few days to rest and recuperate and then move on, the deer hybrids are particularly nomadic) but the bunk beds in the first finished barn fill up over the course of the first month.

- It's you who has the idea to put up ads in newspapers and at bus stops for humans who want to help hybrids but can’t take any in. You get quite a few calls from people who have seen their neighbors beating their hybrids, or who have found injured hybrids along the road.

- You even get a call from a hospital at one point. Pet stores call too- having picked up hybrids from the streets, or have hybrids that have grown too old- haven’t been adopted after a few months or like they call it ‘excess stock’. Even though it seems horrible to think of them that way, to most of the world hybrids are little more than possessions.

- You and Namjoon always drive and pick whoever it is up rain or shine. You get calls in the middle of the night and have to leave immediately despite the fact that you’re getting more obviously pregnant day by day, and your baby bump fully visible to outsiders, unconcealable under all but the baggiest of shirts.

- Namjoon’s slowly growing collection of red flannel shirts (really he only likes the red ones) is your favorite thing to raid on the days that you’re feeling particularly self-conscious about your body. And it always makes your puppy a certain kind of needy, wanting to have you close always (which is a plus, not that you’d ever tell Namjoon what his whines do to you)

- When it comes to giving up unwanted hybrids, Very few people argue with the crazy pregnant lady and her intimidating hybrid with the scarred face. And if they do argue, a stack of money is usually enough to convince even the most reluctant of people to part with their hybrids.

- The most you’ve ever had to pay an owner to give up their already unwanted hybrid is around 1,000 dollars, and too you- they’re worth much more than that. to see the way they change when they suddenly find themselves safe for the first time in their lives- it’s priceless to you and namjoon.

- It breaks your heart when you take them home, and the first few days, where they watch everything like it might disappear, when they walk on eggshells of their old lives, so worried that they’re going to be thrown out. When they hoard food worried it’s going to be taken away, flinch at every raised hand. it breaks your heart, but it also makes you feel accomplished when they slowly start to heal, start to laugh louder than they ever have, start to joke and play over meal times, seak you out for a reassuring heat pet.

- And although you hold more than a dozen certificates of ownership at a time, you’re clear to any hybrid that walks onto your property that they’re their own person, that they owe you nothing and that their freedom and autonomy will be given the second they ask for it.

- No matter who they are or where they came from, their age, what kind of ears they have on the top of their heads, they are given a bunk, a fresh change of clothes (or two) and at least 2 meals a day. though- mealtimes are easily the hardest part of your operation and the thing that gives you the biggest headache. Making sure you’ve made enough food for everyone after the bunk beds fill up very very quickly when word starts to get around in the stray community.

- luckily- you had the forethought to expand your kitchen, and now you have 3 ovens, a larger than average dishwasher, 2 sinks, and industrial-sized refrigerators in the cellar. Meals become the most important and most involved part of your day. You’re thankful that a few of the hybrid who has come to stay with you- particularly the cat hybrids, seems to have a knack for cooking who often let themselves into the first level of your house before the sun rises- their nocturnal inclinations useful for once.

- it’s quite the shock, the first day you walk downstairs at 6am, intent on starting breakfast, only to find 3 cat hybrids- one arrived yesterday- a middle-aged forest cat with little tufts on the end of her ears named Heesun, who is already pressing a warm cup of tea into your hands and telling you to sit down. The rest of the cats buzzing around your kitchen, the smell of frying vegetables and eggs already tickling at your nose. “are you sure you’ve got everything?”

- “of course! when the others told me that you usually cook the food in the mornings- i didn’t think that was right you see- you’re doing so much for us here- let us do this” you watch as she divides labor, the other two cat hybrids following her lead, you ask, and the hybrid tells you she used to be a cook for the family she used to live with. you don’t ask what emancipated her out of their care, Heesun had shown up on the edge of the farm yesterday with a noticeable limp.

- It’s not surprising to you that after a few days Heesun asks you if she can become a permanent resident of the farm. Any hybrid is free to leave when they want but most choose to stay and contribute. It’s a little surprising, the first day you walk out your front door to find one of the hybrids sweeping up some leaves, or when one of them comes to get Namjoon’s help repairing the side of one of the barns.

- At first- both of you are adamant apposed to them helping, but Taehyung helps mediate between the main house and the hybrids in the barns. And the 10 or so that have stuck around who express to you that it would make them feel more comfortable staying here if they could help out.

- And it’s not like you don’t need the help- because really, as the population of the farm exceeds 20, you really really do.

- They mostly run the chore system themselves, Namjoon and Taehyung keep a running list of chores that need to be done and guide a few groups in the morning that want to work. All hybrids who stay contribute in some way, Weather that is with the bunny hybrids that run around doing laundry and sweeping, and cleaning to their heart's content or the bear hybrids led by Taehyung. Everyone has their jobs.

- You have three bear hybrids in total, Tae, a small honey-colored bear named Beomgyu, and a panda hybrid named Jackson that help you collect the honey from beehives and sell it at the farmers market. Though Taehyung manages to eat more honey than they sell somehow and is constantly scolded by both Jackson and Namjoon (Even if the beehives where his idea). Most of the time when you see him- Tae has sticky cheeks.

- But Namjoon will basically let Taehyung get away with anything, seeing as the hybrid contributes the most to making the farm run smoothly. Taehyung is always egger to help you with anything that needs to be done unable to keep still. Whether that be runs to the store with you to buy mountains of food needed to feed everyone, Coupon clipping, or the general wrangling and organization. The more technical things, like fixing up some of the other buildings, like the chicken coop and actual animal barns that have fallen into disrepair, are left mostly to namjoon.

- You’re given nearly 30 chickens and half a dozen sheep by a local after the owners of them get too old to properly take care of them. As much as they’re a headache access to more than three dozen eggs a day helps to cut down the cost of breakfast significantly. And you’re happy with the chickens because at the very least they aerate the soil and keep it free of bugs too, even if it means you need to fence in the vegetable garden that you’re cultivating to keep them away from the tomatoes.

- Scrambled eggs with bacon, breakfast burritos, frittatas, and fried eggs are some of your breakfast staples. And you get more than a little help from some of the hybrids who have experience in cooking during meal times to feed the nearly 50 occupants of the farm by the end of the second month.

- You’ve accumulated a few dog hybrids as well, Wide-eyed collie Dahyun, chow-chow Yugyeom, and muscly great-dane hybrid Shownu who help Namjoon whenever something needs to be moved, as well as an assortment of rare breeds like the lone alpaca hybrid Seokjin who takes care of the sheep when you have to shear them and spin the wool into fine quality yarn.

- Seokjin is a quiet hybrid, uncannily taciturn despite his kind face. he can often be found in the workshop at the south end of the property, his hair blonde and poofy hiding his soft pink ears. Piling the mountains of wool into vats of dyes and setting others out to dry, whistling along to the radio as he weaves it. the hybrid is quiet- and prefers his space from the bustle of the center of the property. Namjoon likes to help him when he can, and you’ve seen the way that the usually taciturn hybrid turns smiley when namjoon is around.

- There is always someone volunteering to do the countless other little jobs and things that the hybrids do or make to help give back to you. Most of them want to do as much as they can, even though there are still days where there simply isn’t a lot of work to do outside of mealtimes.

- At night, when you retreat to your house after dinner with Namjoon, happy for a little bit of calmness in your kitchen so late. You’ll hold his hand, let him spin you to the tune of whatever plays out of the radio, and thank him for finding you again after you disappeared into yourself for a little while after your husband's death. You don’t feel quite so sad anymore, with the hybrids here- you have a purpose again.

- The large fortune you have from your late husband is barely dented by the start-up costs and day-to-day costs of running the farm. And since you got licensed by the state as a hybrid rehabilitation center you have no shortage of funding or generous donations by the countries rich looking to deduct from their taxes too. The same rich people that stop by in their fancy cars and barely used trucks to see the farm, often asking to adopt, as enamored with the hybrids as you are.

- There is a long judgment period before you sign over anyone, and more than once you have declined an offer after the hybrid in question tells you they’re unsure. Sometimes there are red flags, the way the children act almost fearful, and a lack of care shown during mealtimes or something else that leads you to believe that they will be neglected. The ones you do part with give you a hug, often almost not wanting to let go, some of them choking out ‘thank you’s’ and ‘please never close�� that make every bit of effort worth it.

- You keep a logbook, of every hybrid that comes to stay and when they leave, even some come back more than once, every now and then. At the top of the page is namjoon’s signature, and next is taehyungs, and then on and on. you fill up the first page, and then the second, and then the third with names.

- All the hybrids know that they won't leave with anyone unless they want to. You hold adoption weekends every month or so to help mitigate some of the influx, but you never turn anyone away who comes to stay. There are some hybrids that come stay at the farm and still want a home of their own, which is the primary reason why you start to have open houses and adoption weekends.

- You devise a system, red tags on clothing to indicate a hybrid that doesn’t want to be adopted, yellow for the ones that might be but need space, and green name tags for those who want to be adopted.

- The first time you have one of these weekends, 3 months after the death of your husband, you leave Namjoon’s choice of which sticker he wants up to him. He rolls his eyes at you before slapping 5 red stickers on his lapel just for good measure, really? Why would you expect any differently?

- “Whose going to love a washed-up old soul like me anyway?” Namjoon says over dishes, helping you finish up the few that are leftover from breakfast. The hybrids that normally help are out meeting with the ten or so people that have come to adopt today. The words sound so sour, much more than he wanted them too.

- You snort, rubbing at a dish harder, splashing the grease onto the front of your apron, angry, maybe it’s just the hormones. “I don’t know, me maybe.” Namjoon looks up abruptly; nearly dropping the dish he’s drying. You take it from his hands and put it on the counter, and you might be smaller than him by nearly a foot but he still feels shy. his cheeks pinking as he looks down at you.

- “No ones- no ones ever loved me.” Namjoon says in a rush, not sure why he’s saying it, because you know- if anyone in the world knows Namjoon it’s you. your batterd soul matches his.

- You tilt his chin down to yours, “no one has ever said it to me and meant it either. But I love you Joonie- you have to know that by now- of course I want you to stay for good.”

- And then suddenly Namjoon is kissing you feverishly, sloppily despite the fact that his body is brimming with careful intent. And it may not be the first kiss you’ve shared- there have been more than a few in the shadowed shared moments In the morning. Mostly chaste pecks of the lips or kisses to your forehead or the ones to your tummy that namjoon knows make you feel a little sad. But for all intents and purposes, this is the only kiss that matters. The kisses that come after the first “I love you” are always sweeter than candy.

- You thread your fingers through his hair and pull, making tingles erupt like starlight down his spine. Namjoon almost growls into your mouth as he reaches down to grip underneath your thighs where your ass meets your hips. Picking you up as gently as he can manage and placing you on the butcher-block countertop next to the sink.

- Your nails rubbing along the curve where his ears connect to his scull and he pulls you closer, always closer, dissatisfied with your nearness even though you’re pressed against him completely and he can feel the gentle swell of you through his clothes. your legs parted so he can step between them. Namjoon wants to not be able to tell where your skin begins and his ends. Your hands run up and down his chest, pushing his flannel off of his shoulders, so you can feel his biceps, the strength there in them taught.

- Your dress hiking up to the point where it’s verging on lewd as his hands grab fistfulls of your plush thighs. He grips the weight you’ve gained there through your pregnancy and almost groans as he smooth’s his hands up over your curves unable to get enough of the way his fingers press into your supple skin. “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that? To touch you? i love you too- so much it hurts sometimes.”

- You’re looking up at him, already looking needy and wrecked the spaghetti strap of your dress sliding off your shoulder, as you nod and Namjoon wants more than anything to keep kissing you, to never stop, he never will if you let him.

- He feels like he almost wants to devour you nipping lightly at the skin exposed by that fallen strap. As your fingers hover around the nape of his neck, answering his question with a broken whimper as he nips along your clavicle to your neck. Drunk on the smell of you, feeling like his soul is bare but safe in your hands. “I love you- god I love you so much, please can - can i- touch you?”

- You feel almost incredulous, you head spinning with the knowledge that Namjoon loves you, he loves you, and you love him. You nod your ascent, and After everything, you’d never honestly believed that you’d ever be kissed again, much less that you’d ever be kissed like this. You tug up the hem of his shirt to dig your fingers into hips, dragging them carefully down his stomach without using your nails, the gentleness of the touch making him groan.

- You can feel his heartbeat in your fingertips, the rapid rhythms of each heart beating in time as Namjoon kisses down your chest, mouthing roughly at your nipple through the fabric, careful not to nip, you’re already keening, your breasts so sensitive to his gentle but hungry ministrations.

- Before it can go any further a cat hybrid, a small tortashell cat named Irene whose missing the tip of one of her ears from her last owner opens the front door looking for you- announcing a few people come for the open house, shocked to find the scene before her. And before she can manage more than a squeak Namjoon is snarling at her to leave without words.

- He’s flushing so hard at being caught that you can’t help but laugh, as he turns from sultry to painfully shy. After a few more kisses and a frustrated groan on his part, you go back outside to join the adoption day festivities.

- You get the call to pick up a golden retriever hybrid much like you would get any other call.

- It’s the second you’ve gotten in the last week and it’s only Thursday, though the first hybrid of the week has been clear that she wants to be re-adopted as soon as possible. You get the call and a blurry picture as proof, a brutish man with a hand tugging a small blonde head with golden ears as curly as the rest of his head. the neighbor tells you he’d seen the man beat the hybrid out in the yard, heard his cries of stop- and though of your add in the paper.

- You and namjoon leave soon after dinner in your old red truck, before you go Taehyung assures you that he’ll make sure everyone cleans up from dinner and that the two child hybrids that came to stay last week will be in bed before 10. It honestly endears you that Taehyung takes on an older brother role with a lot of the younger hybrids, who during free hours, can be found bothering the bear hybrid to play games or let them steal spoonful’s of honey from the storeroom.

- The drive is long, the day fading into night as you and Namjoon take mile after mile to heart. He switches off with you on the straightaways. You’ve been trying to teach him how to drive over the past few months (with many quaint misshapes where he accidentally knocked over your mailbox and a street sign or two, it’s a good thing your old truck is incredibly sturdy).

- You whistle along with the song on the radio and namjoon smiles over at you, you're leaning your cheek on the door, hanging your head out of the open window the warm spring air tickling your long hair, your smile soft and happy. The love he has for you overflowing in his chest, thick and sweet like hidden honey. He might not say he loves you often, but you can taste it on his lips every time he kisses you, since the first confession, the kisses have come every day.

- Namjoon still gets a little misty-eyed if he thinks about it too much. How much better you’ve gotten in the past few months since you’ve opened your home and started helping hybrids. He knows what it means for you to be able to help others out of situations like this.

- With most pick-ups and house calls, you’re never sure what you’re driving into. Namjoon is always a little worried, unsure what kind of danger they’re going to find at the end of their journey.

- Namjoon always anticipates the day that the human owners become violent, and his protective instincts go haywire whenever Namjoon has to leave you near someone abusive. Dredging up memories from a time that you’re both desperately trying to forget, but he’d never ask you to stop coming on these runs.

- This is why when you get to the house on the edge of the city where Namjoon used to work he lets you handle the transactional part of this, it helps that you’re very convincing.

-The large jean jacket that was Namjoon’s at one point but has become yours pulled snugly over your stomach. You answer the door, talk to the owner weave a story of a widow who needs help on their farm. The man smells distinctly of alcohol and cheep cigars, namjoon sees you holding your breath- even as the conversation becomes less than cordial. Namjoon stops the door from closing in your face by shoving his foot into the door.

- “I’ll level with you asshole,” you say, “you can either take my money and hand over the hybrid now- or I can go to the police with this” you hold out your phone and the video. “The fine for abusing hybrids is just about as much as what I’m offering to take him off your hands. Either way he’s coming home with me tonight. You can either make 500 dollars tonight or lose it- your choice.”

- Through the whole conversation, Namjoon stands behind you, a silent sentinel even as the owner of the hybrid raises his voice. You argue more, but eventually, he agrees. Namjoon goes to retrieve the hybrid after a small nod from you; you’ve got this handled, Namjoon follows his nose.

- Over the past few years, Jimin has become accustomed to just about every kind of abuse there is.

- Even when he sleeps, adrenaline lugs it’s way through his veins ready to jump at the slightest indication of his owner coming down the hall. He knows he shouldn’t sleep right now, get it when he can, but the concussion he got earlier today makes his head feel heavy and nausea still rolls in his belly.

- He lies- hides- underneath his bed; an old military cot in the cold garage. Not that he ever sleeps on top of it- it’s safer to sleep underneath. That way if his owner comes in later at night he’ll think Jimin has fucked off to some other corner of the house.

- He knows the concussion is all his own fault- he’d been stupid- but he’d just wanted to shower, to get some of the grime out from under his fingernails, he hadn’t expected his owner to come back from wherever he disappeared to so soon. Jimin shivers as he remembers the jarring crack of his own head hitting the rocks outside where he’d been tossed outside. His memories after that were muddled with pain, though he was certain he’d vomited at one point from the taste in his mouth.

- You weren’t supposed to sleep when you had a concussion right? That was dangerous right? Jimin was trying to remember, lying on the side of his face that wasn’t bruised to all high heaven. He freezes when he hears the voices in the kitchen, but relaxes. If people are here that means his owner probably won’t bother Jimin tonight.

- he might be able to get to the bathroom later and dab some cool water on his face, maybe sneak a few handfuls of something from the kitchen. Always small portions so that his owner couldn’t tell Jimin had taken anything- he couldn’t handle another beating so close to this one. Hunger eats his way through his stomach.

- But then he hears the footsteps and thinks that maybe he isn’t so lucky tonight. he presses himself closer to the wall, tucking his knees up to his chest.

- But why are the footsteps a different pattern, what is that scent? it smells like another hybrid- a little spicy musk twined in with pine. Jimin doesn’t like strange smells. The door opens slowly, and the scent seeps in further, along with- what could that be? The scent of something delicate and sweet clinging to the hybrid as strong as his own scent, milky and soft, and inexplicably vulnerable.

- He watches as the stiff workboots come into view, At this point, jimin can tell that it’s definitely not his owner.

- Namjoon finds Jimin curled up under his bed in the garage, and beacons him out in his calm voice, careful not to get close and startle him. “Come on out pup- we’re here to take you somewhere safe, I promise I will let no harm come to you again.” jimin eases when he sees the hybrid ears- another hybrid like him! another dog, his tail gives a single wag. “mm not a pup- i’m just small,”

- Jimin pears out from under the bed at him, ears pinned to his head in fear. the hybrid looks fierce and intimidating with the scars on his face that jimin almost flinches back. But the wide worried eyes that he can see underneath those scars, the muted dimples stretching into a worried smile.

- Jimin has been so downtrodden on his entire life that he doesn’t really believe Namjoon when he repeats the words, “we’re here to take you somewhere safe?” jimin dosent believe him- but at the same time, he thinks that nowhere could be worse than right where he is.

- The other hybrids smile is kind, and dimply, despite the scars that mark his face as he sits on the ground so he dosent have to bend over to see under the cot. “sorry, it’s hard to get a good look at you, i’m namjoon, you’re Jimin right?”

- Jimin crawls out from under his cot in the garage slowly, the room spinning. half expecting the other hybrid to get tired of his slowness and yank him out. his owner did that sometimes when he felt like Jimin was being disrespectful of his time. Namjoon winces outwardly when Jimin’s left side turns towards the light, and Jimin knows that it can’t look good. He can barely see out of his eye after all the skin tender and swolen under his hands.

- He’s mindful of all the dust on his clothes and the tare in the left leg of his red shorts, brushing a dust bunny off his side, suddenly feeling lacking in front of the well taken care of hybrid.

- He follows a pace behind Namjoon back into the living room, his owner stands with you, you’re shorter but holding your own with sharp stubborn eyes. A human, so this must be Namjoon’s owner. The second your eyes fall on Jimin, on his swollen side of his face, your eyes turn softer and definitely angrier.

- The scent of flowers and cream hits Jimin like a wave so pungent that it fills his nostrils and overwhelms him a little, it’s not unpleasant- just unexpected- and when he sees you he understands why. Though you’re obviously trying to conceal your pregnant stomach your scent is a dead giveaway every hybrid in a mile radius probably can smell you.

- Jimin can see Namjoon straighten up a little, becoming more protective the closer they get to Jimin’s owner, who doesn’t look happy (not by a long, astronomical shot) Jimin shivers as he turns his eyes on him, his arms crossed, and Namjoon instinctually steps in front of Jimin to hide him from view. Jimin sways on his feet.

- You plunge your hand into your bag by your side, pulling out a stack of bills, for a moment jimin almost wants to stop you- tell you that he’s not worth that much, but Namjoon holds out a hand, almost pressing it to Jimin’s chest to keep him from doing so.

- The money is counted, “good riddance useless mutt,” his owner spits after he signs over the adoption documents to you. Jimin’s flinch is sobering, his owner laughs. Namjoon actually shoves him back The saliva hitting Jimin’s feet as he reels, and you lay a gentle arm around his shoulders, guiding him outside. Sending a final glare in the direction of the man.

- Jimin can barely process any of it through the spinning in his head, a spinning that moderately stops the second he gets outside into the cool air of the May evening. The scent of flowers and pine in his nose and the taste of blood in his mouth.

- You soothe him with a soft voice once they’re out of earshot and take a quick look at Jimin’s half swollen face. A cellphone flashlight in his face and thundering in his ears. Momentarily blinding him. Jimin closes his eye as the pads of your fingers turn his chin this way and that to assess his wounds. “Do you think you need to go to the hospital Jimin?” you ask, careful to stay quiet and delicate with him.

- In the window of Jimin’s old house, the curtain twitches, and Namjoon knows they need to leave soon. Bad will and money lead to safety that only lasts so long, and they definitely don’t need the cops called on them especially after Namjoon shoved him, hybrids have been sent to jail for less.

- “No, I think I’ll be fine” Jimin mumbles, unable to resist leaning into your hand, so soft, your scent making him feel almost hazy and out of it than his probable concussion does. And Namjoon freezes, reminded that not too long ago that you looked like this too- that he was the one leaning into your hands. The memory hits him so violently that he whines, low in his throat. Jimin looks up, ears flicking agitated like he’s asking what wrong, sending a panicked glance between the two of you defaulting to namjoon, the elder hybrid, to know what to do around you- his new owner.

- “let me- let's get you into the car” namjoon grips jimin around the top of his arms and lifts him in, his skinned knee resisting the bend that would be needed to pull himself up into the back seat. He sits tense and curled up before you remind him that he can stretch out. and he settles onto the seat with his his back up against one side, and his feet pressed against the opposite door. the back window open to let the night air wip in.

- You stop at the gas station and give Jimin ice for his black eye and some food and snacks, which he gobbles up hungrily. He’s so preoccupied with food, that he dosent notice Namjoon’s dimpled smile in the mirror after Jimin groans at how good the gas station burrito tastes, licking his fingers with a pop. You give Namjoon a soft, knowing look when his tail thumps against the seat. he tosses Jimin two more bags of chips and a sweet elecrtolite drink, and watches expectantly to see more of Jimin’s happy little whines and pleased grumbles. and you stifle a huffing laugh.

- Namjoon can’t help it, the hybrid in the back seat looks so thin, almost startlingly so; he’s smaller than average too- probably malnourished. Namjoon’s natural caregiver instincts flaring up and demanding to be satisfied so desperately that he even tosses his flannel over him when he sees the hybrid shiver. You sent Namjoon a curious look, and he hides his flush by turning to watch the roadside.

- Jimin stretches out across the back seat with Namjoon’s giant flannel thrown over his shoulders, checking to make sure neither of you is looking back at him before he presses the collar to his nose and takes a deep breath of your combines scents, trying to reconcile his senses with what surely must be a dream.

- This has to be just a concussion dream jimin decides, what else would his mind come up with, other than a sweet fantasy. Someone comes to take him out of the hell his life was, give him food. He wants to take in everything, the smell of the night air, the silhouette of your face in the headlights, namjoon’s ears poking out above the headrest.

- He hovers on Namjoon’s hand entwined with yours over the center console, the hand that Namjoon occasionally reaches out to rest against your swollen stomach, gently drawing lazy circles as you pull onto the main road.

- Yup, Jimin decides, this is definitely a dream, but he hopes it’s real. The last little bit of hope feels almost stupid to have, for hybrids like Jimin, there are very rarely happy endings.

- He falls asleep by the time you reach the highway, lulled by the thrumming road and the oldies song faintly playing out of the crackly speakers of the beat-up truck. His last thought before sleep takes him is hope.

- Jimin hopes with the last shred of himself that is joyful and kind and not purely concerned with survival that this is not a dream, and that where he is going will be a little bit better than where he just was.

- Even just a little bit better than this dream, he doesn’t even need anything like the affection burning in both of your eyes or the kindness you’ve shown him, if he can just lay his head down and rest without being worried he’ll be woken up with pain and fear again, that will be enough.

- To Jimin, the farm is an Eden.

( my Kofi )

2K notes · View notes

coffeeandcalligraphy · 3 years

Text

Weeping Statue | Feeding Habits Update #6 & let’s chat about quitting writing

Hello! Are we back for another Feeding Habits update (finally)?? Let’s chat chapter 7, Weeping Statue.

Just a reminder: This is my original work and plagiarism of any form will not be tolerated.

Can we talk about struggle? Because this chapter was IT. I believe I started it in late July and finished it earlier this month. I’ve taken my time with chapters before, but this was next level--the amounts of changes I went through in one chapter was astronomical, and reminded me of drafting chapter three earlier in the summer. I went through so many stages writing this chapter: from enjoying it, to feeling no joy from writing at all, to nearly quitting this book altogether!

Scene A:

Harrison and his mother Suzanna simultaneously avoid each other over breakfast after he failed to return home the night previous

She lowkey calls him out (calling out his denial of missing Lonan)

Scene B:

Harrison goes to a farmhouse owned by Theodore Harvey, a friend of his mother’s, to drop off the rescued litter of kittens from chapter 6. He realizes he is missing one kitten and concludes Reeve has stolen one after dinner the night previous.

Scene C:

Harvey invites Harrison inside for coffee where he admits his coffee machine is broken.

Harrison fixes the coffee machine, and is hired by Harvey to flip the rest of the farmhouse as he and his wife are moving.

Scene D:

On his way home, Harrison stops at a gas station where he buys a bouquet of tulips for his mother, a dog collar for the puppy he found in the kitten litter, a pack of gum, pastries, and sunscreen before heading to a beach.

At the onset of a lightning storm, Harrison swims in the ocean and has an epiphany--he decides to accept his miserable life (a development!)

Scene E:

After the beach ordeal, Harrison returns to his apartment ready to accept the plainness of his daily life when an old ghost from his past (his! ex!) Lonan appears to be having dinner with Suzanna

This chapter brought so many things. A) many... breakdowns lol (I cried a lot!), B) many false epiphanies that wound me back into ruts, C) a desire to quit this series that was just as terrifying as it sounds and D) an ideology I never would’ve gotten on my own. Just have to thank my sister Sarah for telling me a few weeks ago after I insisted that I knew what needed to logically happen but couldn’t write it no matter how hard I tried. She said: “It’s not about what works, it’s about what you want” << literally changed my philosophy on writing, even as someone who tries their best to advocate for care and enjoyment in writing. Not sure if it’s because of the timing when she said this, but I’d probably never had made it out of the rut without having this said to me.

I was *not* planning at all to have my boys reunite so soon in the book. Technically, it is not very soon and we are almost done the book, but for some reason, I really didn’t think it would work so early because I felt Harrison’s POV was so undeveloped already (I still think it is). HOWEVER, the fact of the matter is: it was not working at all. I knew exactly what I needed to do to get to point A to Z but the thing about writing is, it is not formulaic! I tried to make fit what I thought worked, but as time progressed and I immensely struggled, less and less did I want what worked. Writing was miserable and that’s not what I want writing to be for me. So I took Sarah’s advice, and I did what would make me happy, and that was, and has always been, seeing my boys interact.

Now that I’ve finished this chapter, I’m not sure if I made the right decision! I have yet to write the boys interacting so I don’t know if it will work, but what I liked about this method is that it freed me from this constriction I’d written myself into and opened a new avenue to do something that DOESN’T “work” for the story but that does work for me. To me, this project, this series, is more important to me than making something “work”. Sustaining my health and happiness (which were declining on the path I was on) is critical for me and my writing journey.

EDIT: by the time I’m editing this post, I have written the boys interacting and haha yep this was the right decision! Was doubting myself for a sec, added in a lil robbery, and now it’s all good (oops)

Excerpts:

I don’t have too many for you because this chapter does need an edit to “set” it in place (right now it feels like liquid Jello that has been in the fridge but is yet to set up). I know it needs one more scene but I cannot :) write :) what :) it :) needs :) no matter how hard I have tried, and so I am giving that section of the story a break instead of over-kneading it and toughening up the dough unnecessarily.

Here is part of the opening scene! There are things I don’t like about this but I am trying not to self-hate, so !!!

The next morning, Harrison gets up at dawn to drop the kittens off at the farm, and Suzanna makes coffee for one. This is unusual for both—Harrison rarely leaves the apartment, and Suzanna always makes coffee for two. In his room, Harrison combs his hair and twists his earring, its blue gem pearling in dribbles of sunlight. In the kitchen, Suzanna stirs coffee like it’s wronged her. Harrison dabs cologne onto his throat and blinks off his hangover. Suzanna flecks her spoon onto the tabletop so it leaves an egg of amber on the surface.

When he approaches the kitchen, Harrison pretends he does not see his mother and his mother pretends she does not see him. They move like this, repelled, one moving left, the other moving right, one opening the top cupboard, the other opening the bottom.

Harrison stops at a convenience store and buys a hodge-podge of things (also the beach scene which yes mirrors the last scene in Lonan’s POV hehe I indulge myself):

He picks up the best bouquet of fuchsia tulips, a collar for the dog he left in his bedroom even though it’ll be weeks until she’s big enough to fit in it, a pack of spearmint gum he doesn’t need, a package of pastries, and a tube of sunscreen—SPF 30. He almost drops every item at least once on his way up to the register, and definitely drops them when his receipt is spitting from the machine and the store clerk says she likes his earring—is it vintage—and he nearly vomits in the parking lot, trained against the hood of the taxi—is it even his taxi—the plastic bag teetering from his wrist, rain coiling against his cheek, the air so humid, his clothes so heavy, it is no wonder the next place he ends up is the beach.

It is never smart to swim during a storm. If he thinks hard enough, his mother’s voice warns him to keep from the shore, stand behind the yellow line, stay safe, stay where you are, don’t run under a tree, and even more, don’t run into the water. He does everything wrong in an even worse order—dollops sunscreen into his palm before opening the pastry so his teeth freckles with zinc, chews the gum and the pastry at the same time so his tongue becomes a slime of crumbs, rests the tulips too close to the shoreline so they wilt under a wave, misplaces the dog collar in his own left hand, and dives into the water fully-clothed.

Harrison getting very angsty about Lonan’s future (which he’s predicted completely wrong haha):

He will die alone. Reeve will not think of him again and he will deserve that. Somewhere in the city with the missing kitten, drinking bottles of holy water because there is no drink more fitting for a woman so sacred. His mother will miss him only briefly, and then return to her daily life of no longer needing to clean up after him. Maybe she’ll find the tulips. Put them on display until they wither, then use their carcasses as fertilizer. Save electricity. Use the coffee machine less. Downsize to a smaller, cheaper, prettier apartment with arched walkways and stained-glass windows. Harvey will think he is a fluke who missed his first day of work and will never think of him again. The dog isn’t old enough to recognize him. Suzanna will give her the collar. And Lonan will continue his life in Las Vegas, tottering after Eliza, refilling her wine, getting neon at house parties, watching French silent films without captions because he’s probably learned another language, cut his hair, gotten a tattoo, learned how to cross-stitch, bought life insurance, a yacht, a coastal summer home, learned how to play the mandolin, perfected his lamb sous vide. He’s probably married. Him and Eliza family-planning. He’ll expand a future, and Harrison will do the opposite. There is something freeing in being unmissed.

Lightning snaps across the sky like a wishbone, sounds like the prick of tambourines from under the water. Everything turns violet—the clouds, his skin, the waves. Tomorrow will be a better day, as he sinks lower into the current, tomorrow will be a better day, as the light fades and dissolves into blackness, tomorrow will be a better day, as seaweed wraps his throat, as the freezing water impales his ribs, as he burrows under and simultaneously, rises up.

This next part comes right after!

In the stomach of a tidal wave, the sky is so much bluer. An unrolling of cyan like fractals of a baked marble. There is so little to remember. No grocery lists, no fresh turmeric, no shift of portabella mushrooms. No outstanding to-dos—no kibble to by, no resume to update. Harrison folds in blue and lets it gorge his eardrums. He gives his body to that wide chasm of water and breaststrokes not into a second life, but a third.

Here is the last bit:

He buzzes back into the apartment at 3:00AM, tracking in saltwater and SPF, puff-pastry gummed to his palm, a dog collar wound around his ring finger, a sheath of tulips shedding into the elevator behind him.

He hits every floor button twice and is undisturbed when the elevator lurches and reopens in sixty-second intervals. A man rotating a jade cuff on his wrist gets on at the fourth stop and gets off at the sixth. A woman wearing a lynx cape gets on at the eighth stop, breaks up with two girlfriends, and gets off at the eleventh. Two children in coveralls tail in after she leaves and throw jacks at each other’s eyes until one of them bleeds, and by then, they are on the fifteenth floor and the children are leaving like they have not left behind accidental shell casings. On the sixteenth floor, a deer head chihuahua patters in with no owner and barks at the door chime the moment it releases and lets him out. A mother and daughter shell pistachios on the twentieth, a maintenance man introduces himself as David though his nametag says Maxwell on the twenty-second, a flock of teenage girls in whirl about a new way to blend oil pastel on the twenty-third. So it is no wonder by the twenty-fifth floor, Harrison misses his stop and becomes one of these people too—the man with zinc down his eyes like a weeping statue, juggling pastry and a dog collar and a seedy bouquet of tulips.

He tracks seawater in that hallway, parts of him scattering with the zinc, the petals, the crumbs. Like a way to get back home even though he hasn’t started at his destination, he moves through the labyrinth of halls, both starving and nauseated. Tomorrow he will rise at dawn and taxi to Brooklyn and hammer four nails into two pieces of plywood and repeat. He will feed his dog. Learn how to cook something that will impress his mother, something French that he can’t pronounce like brasillé or oeufs cocotte. Find liberation in the constrict of routine or at least pretend to. It will be good for him, the rising, the taxis, the hammers, the nails, the dog food, the cooking—it will all be good.

By the time he gets to their door, his fingers are oiled and dripping with sunscreen. Rising, taxis, hammers, nails, dog food, cooking. He nearly drops the house keys. Rising, taxis, hammers, nails, dog food, cooking. Tomorrow will be his arrival. Rising, taxis, hammers, nails, dog food, cooking. His beginning swelling as he turns the lock. Rising, taxis, hammers, nails, dog food, cooking. There is no other way out.

The apartment is dark when he tracks in. The scent of cinnamon steeping the air like Suzanna’s pulled a saucepan of papas off the stove. At first he doesn’t hear it, but he should, the voices leafing the kitchen like a flit of moths. He steps out of his shoes but never sets anything down, even after he passes the coffee table. Two plates ringing the centre, streaked with and caldeirada and bayleaf. A pitcher of lemonade sweating onto the glass. It is almost like he never left, like he and his mother shared dinner, sipped from each other’s cups, cleaned the tines of each other’s fishbones. And he almost believes it. He never went to the farm. The kittens are where he left them, just a few feet away, not in Brooklyn. He doesn’t have a job to tend to. He never fixed the coffee machine. He didn’t go to the convenience store. He is not slathered in sunscreen, not holding a dog collar or pastries or a bouquet of tulips. He never dove into the ocean like it was some port to asylum and didn’t emerge soaked and walking half-dead to his apartment because he never left. This reality is so easy to believe, he is unfazed by the voices and how they get louder when he reaches the kitchen, when one says “Were you shopping for the apocalypse?” and the other one chokes on its drink and apologizes for its rudeness and stares at him in daydream, those eyes like forget-me-nots, gas fires, seafoam, the wing of a starling, his drop earring.

Harrison is grateful he is soaking wet when he enters that kitchen and Suzanna and Lonan sit at the table sharing a box of petit fours. At least he has an excuse when he drops everything.

That’s it for this update! The tea starts HERE!

--Rachel

#writing #amwriting #writeblr #writerblr #writingupdates #fostered #mothwork #feedinghabits

49 notes · View notes

archaneanscribe · 3 years

Text

A Fresh Brew Shared with You

(So I’ve been getting really into Trio of Towns, and spent about one in-game month throwing coffee at Wayne until he loved me, and I had a lot of time to imagine what was happening in game while I did sp, so enjoy the byproduct of that. I use my farmer’s name, farm name (Aime, and Bloom Farm) plus some animal names, but it’s pretty generic otherwise, as it’s focused on Wayne’s POV mostly.).

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

Bloom Farm hadn't always been the last stop on Wayne's postal route every morning.

When Aime had first moved in, she was solidly in the middle- he would work his way through the more local Westown residents, then mosey on down to Bloom, before taking the long way around to reach Tsuyukusa and Lulukoko. Back in those days, he would often catch a glimpse of her toiling away in her fields, maybe even snagging her attention long enough for them to exchange a wave. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then the main bridges reopened, and during the ensuing reshuffling, he and Ethan had worked out that it would be best for him to stop at her farm at the very end to complete his loop of the crossroads.

And he stopped seeing her.

Well, that wasn't nearly accurate- he saw her throughout the day, running about like the busy bee she always was, and they might pass each other by at his other stops. But he no longer ran into her on her own property. By the time he arrived, she was inside her barns, milking the cows.

(He still remembers the taste of that glass of milk, so sweet, but not nearly as sweet as his host.)

It was simply how it panned out, but he couldn't help but feel a little pang of regret at losing those glimpses of her in her element, working the land like she dreamed for half her life.

And then Aime had to surprise him, as she always did.

It was an ordinary fall morning, the red dawn melting away to make room for the blue midday sky while he crunched fiery leaves beneath his boots. She only had one letter that day, which looked like nothing more than a materials invoice from Ludus. In and out, easy as pie. But when he got to her mailbox, he found a curious sight sitting right on it's flat wooden top.

A cup of steaming hot coffee.

He looked to both his sides, then around the box, then behind him, and finally at every which angle he could, resulting in him spinning around like a fool. Shrugging, he dismissed it as her forgetting her beverage in a rush. He pulled open the hatch-

-to find a note, with his name in large letters at the top.

DEAR WAYNE,

I know you walk your whole route and my farm is pretty out of the way. That made me start feeling badly about how much mail I get everyday, which gave me an idea: Since you like coffee, I'd start leaving you a cup! Please write on the bottom of this note how it tastes, and how you most like your coffee so I can try and make that for you.

LOVE, AIME

I'll be darned, he thought, unable to suppress a wide smile, Does that gal ever run out of ways to make my day?

He shook his head, gently placing the note back down like it was made of priceless crystal instead of hastily written on a torn piece of journal paper, and picked up the mug, still hot as all get out. That means he probably only misses her by a few minutes at most... Sniffing it, he took a tentative sip, smile instantly morphing into an ecstatic grin the moment his throat finished the first swallow.

"Delicious..." he said to no one in particular, punctuating it with another sip. It was your standard black coffee, straight from a packet, but this was brewed by Aime, for him, and she planned to do it every morning. There was no way it was going to be anything less than the best cup he ever had. Before he knew it, he had downed the whole thing, uncaring of the temperature, and was licking his lips to make sure he got every last drop.

Westown's famous playboy slobbering over his own face for any splashes of his crush's coffee. If only the town's gossip hounds could see him at that moment.

After his euphoria passed, he finally realized he was just standing outside her mailbox, letter in one hand and empty mug in the other. With no better solution in mind, he placed the cup back where he found it, before pulling a pencil out from his bag.

DEAR AIME,

Thank you kindly for the coffee, it was divine. My favorite has got to be mocha, but it's hard to get a hold of in these parts, so no need to trouble yourself. It's more than enough for me to know you're thinking of me.

- WAYNE

Content with his reply, he placed the note back in the box, covering it with her letter. He was mighty tempted to stay and wait for her, but his grumbling stomach had other plans. Oh well, he'd simply have to be satisfied with her coffee for now.

As he made his way back to his room at the Postio, the grin on his face was enough to make the birds in the treetops swoon.

----

Despite what he had written, the very next day, he found a mug full of Cafe Mocha sitting on top of the mailbox. This time, the note was held down by the mug itself, penned on much nicer stationary.

DEAR WAYNE

I know you said don't worry about it, but Caolila recently had a large shipment of cocoa, so I couldn't help myself! Especially after remembering how much you enjoyed Vivi's milk. I have a cup myself every morning, so I don't mind doing it at all. I hope you have a great day today.

LOVE AIME

One again he was no match for this lass' tenacity, it seemed. He was going to be on the receiving end of her kindness no matter what he said.

Well, there was no use resisting now. Fully reconciled with the idea of this being a daily occurance (not that he needed much convincing), he decided to savor the beverage today, taking slow, luxurious sips. It would have been a good cup 'o Joe, even if he wasn't steadily falling for the woman who made it. Smooth and creamy, it was the perfect intersection of sweet and bitter.

Despite trying to take his time with it, the experience was over before he knew it. He always enjoyed a good coffee, but he had never felt such a pain when it was over before.

...maybe he had it worse than he thought.

----

Two weeks into their caffeinated ritual, Miranda asked him a question that stopped him in his tracks.

"Thanks for the package as always, Wayne!" she paused, looking down at the box in her hands, before back up at the mailman, "Say... you never come by to buy coffee these days. Is somethin' the matter?"

"W-What? There's- Nothin's wrong, don't you worry."

Unfortunately, the fact that Wayne the Suave Postman tripped over his words was enough to tip just about anyone off that something was up.

She put her hands on her hips, and spoke in a tone that he was certain Noel had heard many a time in her short life, "Well I don't believe that for one hot second mister! Tell me what's eatin' you right now or I won't stop hounding you for the next week."

He knew she meant it.

"I've jus' been having coffee with Aime lately, is all. She makes too much, so she offers me a cup every mornin'," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't particularly fond of lying, but if you told Miranda something worthy of gossip, it'd make the rounds by sundown, so he couldn't risk exposing his true feelings quite yet. Amie had to be the first to hear about them.

"Oh, is that so?"

...she seemed to know already, but at least had the decency not to make any accusations.

"I see now, but remember we've always got some in stock! Aime buys in bulk, so I always make sure I've got enough," she punctuated her statement with a wink. She definitely knew.

"...I'll keep it in mind, ma'am. See ya' later."

"Bye bye!"

Even if he wasn't totally convinced she was onto him from her words, by this point she definitely had to be, considering his face was as red as a rose right about now.

----

Another week after that, as he made his way down the slope that led into Bloom Farm, ready and eager for that day's mocha, it wasn't only a mug that he found sitting by the mailbox- it was Aime herself.

"Heya, Wayne!" she greeted him cheerfully, waving her arm in a large arc. He managed to successfully stifle his shock, though not so much his joy.

"Well, howdy there Aime. Shouldn't you be in that there barn by now?"

She smiled bashfully, "Normally I would, but Betsy the sheep is pregnant, so I've started doing it earlier in the day when I go to check up on her. Which means I've got some free time in the morning for awhile," she held up her own half empty mug, "So I thought I'd wait up for you. A hot drink is best shared with a good friend, after all."

"My grandma used to say the same thing," he replied, expression soft. Deciding to make himself comfortable, he pulled his bag over his head to place off to the side, laid his hat on a nearby fence post, grabbed the mug, and sat beside her on the porch steps. At first, not much was said, the pair instead choosing to mutually enjoy the warmth of the coffee in the crisp, chilly morning air.

"You talk about your grandparents a lot," she asked, cracking the silence like an egg, "What were they like?"

This took him aback briefly- it was his own fault, really, for keeping his past so close to his chest, but that was a rare question for him to hear.

"What were they like...?" he pondered aloud, blowing away the last wisps of steam from the steadily cooling mocha, "Well I'd reckon as nice as you could imagine. They weren't perfect people, nobody is, but they always tried their best to do right by each other, and everyone around 'em. Can't remember anyone ever having an unkind word to say when they were involved."

She giggled into the lip of her cup, shaking her head as she did so, "That sounds a lot like someone I know. You really take after them, if they were really like that."

"Shucks, that's mighty kind of you to say. I try and live like they taught me as best I can. Seems the only way I can repay 'em for all those years takin' care of me."

"Hmmm..." she brought her mug down to her lap, face pensive, "I'm sorry if this is too far, but... do you ever wonder if your life would have been different? If your parents stuck around, or even took you with them?"

He blinked blankly at her for a moment, at a rare loss for words, before quickly regaining his composure and shaking his head, "I can't lie and say I never have, but not for a very, very long time. I made my peace with it years ago. Maybe it wasn't the 'right' choice to leave me with grandad and grandma, but I couldn't imagine being very happy relocatin' all the time either."

That statement made her go quiet, and sent her gaze down to her feet, "It isn't very fun, you've got that right."

Shoot.

"I'm real sorry for being insensitive like that," he pulled the brim of his hat down in embarrassment, "I should have chosen my words more carefully."

"No no! You're fine!" she denied, frantically waving her free hand, "Our circumstances are totally different. We only moved every couple years, it wasn't constant travel or anything."

"Still, it couldn't have been easy on ya' if it was enough to make you decide striking out on your own was better than movin' again."

"That wasn't the only reason," she corrected, "It was just... what really spurred me to take to plunge. I figured the longer I was used to never settling down, the harder it would be when I was eventually able to follow my dreams. I was finally given my 'now or never' moment."

"Well," he knocked back his final sip of coffee, wiping his lips with his sleeve in exaggerated satisfaction, "Pardon me for sayin' so, but I'm glad it happened. You were the breath of fresh air these here towns needed."

She breathed out a quiet laugh, bumping her shoulder into his, the warmth of the contact even through cloth sending a pleasant tingle down his body, "You really are quite the charmer, Wayne. I'll admit to being a little slow on the uptake, so I didn't really get what everyone was tittering about you at first. But I definitely get it now."

If he were a lesser man, he would have tossed his hat into the air and hollered at that statement, but managed to resist.

But it was a close battle with himself.

"That so? Funny thing is, I feel like I'm at my clumsiest talkin' to you. You don't want pretty words or flattery like most folk. There's nothin' wrong with any of that, mind you, it's just easier than deep conversation."

"That's what I mean, silly," she replied with a dazzling smile, "Smooth talking Wayne is nice and all, you can't get to know everyone on a deeper level, but I definitely like the Wayne I know a lot better."

"What's this Wayne like?" he asked, dropping how voice down to his real flirtatious octave, "I'm mighty curious."

"He's earnest, very sweet, just a little bit silly, aaaaaand..." she dragged out the word, smiling growing to face splitting levels, before quick as a flash poking the tip of his nose, "...very cute."

Before he could reply, a nearly ear splitting BAAAAAAA arose from the nearby barn.

"Betsy!" she cried out, rising to her feet immediately, taking off in a run towards the sound, tossing only a single glance back at him, "Just leave the mugs there, I'll clean them up later! Goodbye!"

And with that, she was gone.

His hand rose to cover his nose like he hoped to trap the sensation there forever. His heart had thumped in his chest plenty of times for his other paramours, but it had never raced like a thoroughbred horse before he met her.

"Well I'll be," he said quietly to himself, "I'm in love with her."

----

The next time he was making his way to Bloom Farm, he had a very precious pendant hanging down from his neck which he could barely keep himself from fiddling with every few seconds.

Maybe it had been pretty obvious that their trajectories were in line for a crash, but he still felt like a million bucks knowing that she felt the same, enough so that it was her who had reached out to him.

The familiar fields came into view, and he immediately started searching the horizon for a glimpse of her, finally finding her dusting off her porch.

"Aime!" he called out, ditching any pretense of composure and sprinting towards her at full speed, which was worth it to see the joy on her face as he approached, "Mornin', darlin'."

"G'morning, Wayne," her grin had an edge of mischief, "Any mail today, or is this just a social call?"

"The only thing I have to deliver is myself today, I'm afraid to say."

"I think I'll be quite alright," her face softened, putting the broom aside and gesturing for him to come up with her, "Come on in, coffee's already brewing, and I tried my hand at making some cookies with Vivi's milk and Patty's eggs."

He nodded, following her with an expression he knew must have been downright lovesick.

Maybe Bloom Farm hadn't always been the last stop on Wayne's postal route, but from now on, it would always be the last stop for his heart.•

#sos 3ot #3ot #finally found out what tag ppl were using lol #3ot wayne #wayne 3ot #trio of towns #story of seasons #story of seasons trio of towns #sos wayne #wayne sos #wayne trio of towns #wayne x farmer #long post #3k words #its just shy of that lol #fanfic #inaugural post is smth so niche no one will give a shit lol

44 notes · View notes

smlyds · 4 years

Text

Sam x Reader (stardew valley)

Dandelion

I stepped off the bus, breathing in the fresh air, filled with a new hopefulness for my future in this new town, Stardew Valley. A sweet, dewy smell filled the air and water droplets glistened on the greenery. Taking in a deep breath, I began walking through the path in the forest toward my new home, the cabin my grandfather had left me.

The walk to the cabin was a long one, but I was greeted by two new welcoming faces, Robin and Mayor Lewis. Robin was a little bit rude about the state of the farm, though I did have a lot of work to do! Lewis informed me that I needed to place things in a shipping box beside the house in order to sell them, so he could pick them up every night around 8:30. He also suggested I try to get to know the residents of the town while I was there. After they left, I walked in the house and got settled in. I unpacked my bags and looked at the house. It was small, only one room, but it would do. It had an old tv, a small bed, a dresser, an old fireplace and an oak table with a decorative bowl neatly placed in the center. I sweeped the floors and dusted everything off, since no one had been in the house in ages, and while looking around afterwards, I notice a small present on the dresser. It was wrapped in yellow paper with a blue bow and had a note that read,

To help you get started!

-Lewis

I opened it to find 15 packs of parsnip seeds. I smiled, and made a note of thanking the Mayor the next day. That saved me the trouble of going into town to buy seeds the next day. Looking around a bit more, I found some old tools including a pickaxe, hoe, scythe, an axe and a tin watering can. Eventually I would have to get some new tools, but these would work at first. After I finished cleaning and looking around, I decided to go to bed and start fresh in the morning.

In the morning, I took out a small purple journal I had brought with me and wrote some basic plans for the day.

1. Plant parsnips

2. Clean up the farm

3. Thank Mayor Lewis for parsnip seeds

4. Introduce yourself to other residents

I found that making lists of what I needed to do helped me get things done. I stood up from the chair I had sat at and walked out my front door with the tools I found the day before, and the parsnip seeds. The farm really was a mess. Weeds, rocks and an annoying amount of trees covered the farm. A breeze floated by, carrying light pink spring pedals with it. The morning air was a little chilly, but not horribly so.

I spent a little over 3 hours cleaning up the farm and planting the parsnips until I felt satisfied with my work. Taking my journal from my small red backpack, I crossed off the first 2 things on my list. The farm looked nice, and I could see 3 paths at the northern, eastern and southern sides of the farm. The southern one led to Cinder-sap Forest, the north to the mountains and the east to the town. I needed to thank Mayor Lewis as well as try to meet a few people. I wiped my forehead and walked towards the east path. It was a very peaceful walk to the town through thick forest. On the way I saw the bus stop I had been dropped off at the day before, feeling hopeful that I made the right choice moving here. When I got to the town, I saw the town square, which had a clinic and a store the the north, houses, the graveyard and a river to the south and a saloon, as well as two more houses to the east. I walked towards the store and saw a board with a request section and a calendar. The request section was empty today, and the calendar was marked with birthdays, which had pictures of the people whose birthday’s it was, and town events. I noticed that this month, the Mayor’s birthday was on the 7th, and today was the 1st. I should get him a gift, I thought to myself. I noticed two events this month, the Egg Festival and the Flower Dance. I flipped it up, seeing the schedule for the month. I quickly scanned it and stopped at the 17th day, a person named Sam’s birthday. I looked at his picture a while longer than I had everyone else’s. He had blonde hair that was slicked up, clearly using a lot of hair gel, which made me giggle. He also had green eyes with blue and yellow specks, and a warm smile. Looking at the picture, I felt myself blush a bit.

“Hello! How’s it going on the farm,” Lewis asked, to which I responded with a jolt and a slight gasp, the calendar quickly closing back to the page for this month. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes, sorry sir, you startled me,” I said in response, my heart beating fast. “It’s going well on the farm, I cleaned it up a bit and planted the parsnips. Oh, that’s right! Thank you so much for the parsnip seeds! They were really helpful. I can’t afford a lot of seeds after the move, so they’re very helpful!”

“No problem! You’re the granddaughter of a good friend, so I wanted to make sure you would do well,” He said cheerfully. “Well, I have to go, but before I do, I noticed you looking at Sam’s picture. He lives in the blue house over there,” He paused and pointed toward a house to the southwest. It was light blue and sat beside a red house. “You should introduce yourself! They’re a lovely family!”

“O-okay, thank you,” I said meekly, waving goodbye. Lewis chuckled and walked away. I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment as I looked at my watch. It read 11:36. I decided to go into the store, which was named Pierre’s. I pushed the door open and heard a bell ring. The store was small, with a section for cooking supplies, produce, seeds and other general items. I looked at the seed packets and decided to take 3 Jazz packets, 4 tulip bulbs, 4 potato packets and 5 cauliflower packets. It wasn’t much but I didn’t want to spend too much, so I walked toward the checkout at the back of the store. A man with short, light brown hair and glasses, who looked to be about forty, greeted me.

“Hello! You must be the new farmer everyone is talking about,” He said as I set down my stuff on the counter.

“Yeah! My name’s (y/n)!” I said, trying to be friendly as he rung me up.

“I’m Pierre! I hope you’ll be a regular costumer here rather than going to Joja Mart,” He said, a sour look on his face at the last part. “Anyhow, your total is 8 dollars and 56 cents.”

I quickly fished my wallet out of my bag and took out the money, to the exact change and said, “Well, it was nice meeting you, Pierre! I hope you have a good day!”

“You too!” He said as I put my now bagged stuff into my bag and left the store. I looked at my watch again, 11:42. I decided to go to some of the houses and introduce myself as Lewis has suggested. I walked toward the southern part of the town to the red house. It had a small garden with seasonal flowers growing inside beneath a large window. The door was brown dyed maple, I thought. I walked up to it and knocked, wondering if people would be home in the middle of the day on Monday. After a moment, the door opened to a woman with blue hair cut in a messy bob and brown eyes that were almost pink. She wore red lipstick that matched her long red dress.

“Howdy! I don’t believe we’ve met,” She said with a bright smile on her face.

“Hi! I’m (y/n), I just moved here. I thought I should introduce myself,” I said nervously.

“Well it’s lovely to meet you! I would invite you in for tea, but I have to get to the saloon soon! Oh, I’m Emily by the way!”

“It’s good to meet you too! Also, I don’t mind, I don’t have much time either,” I replied, set at ease by how nice she seemed to be.

“Well, maybe we can have tea another time, as I would like to get to know you better. Is Wednesday at 10:30 okay for you?” She asked.

“Oh, sure!” I responded, surprised she actually wanted to have tea.

“Great! Also, my younger sister Haley lives here as well, but she’s out at the park right now, so you’ll have to meet her another time,” Emily replied, a smile still on her face.

“Alright! Well, I have to go, so I will see you Wednesday! It was great meeting you!” I said.

“Yeah, you too! Bye bye,” she said waving and shutting the door softly. I sighed, wondering why I agreed to meet her even though I had no idea if I would actually be able to come. I knew now, however, I was going to make it no matter what, because I would feel to bad to cancel. With that thought, I walked a few meters down the sidewalk to the blue house that the blonde haired boy, whose picture I was looking at only a few minutes earlier, was supposed to live. For some reason I didn’t know, the idea of meeting him made me nervous. Taking in a deep breath and gathering my courage, I knocked on the house’s large front door. A woman who looked to be around 45 with long, light brown hair tied into a ponytail, which complimented her blue eyes, answered.

“Hi! I’m (y/n), I just moved here!” I said, waving shyly.

“Hello there! I’m Jodi. I heard someone new was moving into the old farm! You’re not quite what I was expecting, but that’s alright,” she said kindly.

“It’s nice to meet you Jodi.” I said, trying to smile, but not too wide.

“It’s nice too meet you too, (y/n). Why don’t you come on in, you look like you need something to drink,” she said.

“Oh, I would hate to bother you with that,” I said quickly.

“Nonsense, come on in,” she said, motioning inside. I walked in and looked around. The room was pretty small, there was a loveseat, a small chair and a mahogany table with papers and books all over. I could here someone playing guitar from somewhere in the house. “Do you mind taking your boots off? I just cleaned the floors.”

“Oh sure!” I said, slipping off my muddy shoes and placing them on a mat beside the door as Jodi closed it.

“Please, take a seat and I will get you something to drink,” she said, guiding me to the chair. I sat down and she said, “What would you like? I have water, milk and orange juice.”

“Water is fine,” I said, getting comfortable. Jodi walked through a doorway to the right of the loveseat and quickly came back, handing me a glass of water. I took a sip, and it was ice cold, the way I preferred it. “Thank you.”

“Oh it’s no problem! You’re a guest. Anyway, how is the old farm?” She asked curiously.

“It’s good! It took a while to clean up, but it’s a very nice area,” I said with a genuine smile.

“That’s good! So, how old are you, (y/n)?” She asked.

“I’m 20,” I answered, wondering why she had asked.

“Oh, really? My oldest son will be 20 on the 17th of next month,” she said, and I wondered if that was Sam.

“Oh, that’s nice! I would love to meet him,” I said, taking another sip of the water.

“I should introduce you! He’s just in his room practicing guitar right now, I will go get him,” she said, standing up and walking to a door on the right side of the room.

“O-okay,” I said nervously. She knocked on the door and opened it.

“Sam, there’s someone here I want you to meet!” Hearing his name made my heart jolt, though I didn’t know why. The guitar halted and he walked out of his room. It was Sam from the picture on the calendar. I quickly stood up to introduce myself. His eyes were very striking in person.

I felt my face warm up and meekly said, “Hi, my name’s (y/n).”

“I’m Sam, it’s good to meet you!” He said in a bubbly tone, holding out a hand for me to shake. Nervously, I stretched mine out to his and shook it quickly.

“(Y/n) is the new farmer, and she’s your age! I thought you two could be friends, or maybe more,” Jodi said, saying the last part a little quieter. I could feel that I was really blushing now.

“Mom!” Sam said, looking at Jodi. She chuckled at him.

“You know I’m just joking,” she said, smiling at us.

“It wasn’t very funny,” he said, sounding annoyed now. I looked down, hoping they wouldn’t noticed how red my face was now.

“Well, I have to go now, thank you for the water Jodi. It was nice meeting you both,” I said, walking quickly to the door and slipping on my boots.

“Oh, so soon? Well that’s a shame. Come by again sometime, (y/n),” Jodi said.

“Alright! Bye Jodi, Sam,” I responded walking out the door. Closing it with a bit of a slam, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my fast paced heartbeat and cool my cheeks. Why is this making me so nervous? He’s just some random guy, I thought, walking away from the house. I knew then though, that I would be seeing a lot more of him.

I spent the rest of the day getting to know other residents. The most notable were Evelyn, who was an old woman who worked on the town flowerbeds, Abigail, a weird, somewhat goth girl with purple hair, Elliot, a dramatic writer, and Sebastian, a geeky guy who likes frogs. At the end of the day, I worked a bit more on the farm, then drifted into a deep sleep.

#stardew valley #fanfic #x reader #sam stardew valley

18 notes · View notes

advernia · 4 years

Text

fic: with my lips engraved on every cup

— seven days, four seasons. just enough time to find a place to call home. - seasonal snippets on the dormouse & alice the second.

1: luci's b-day gift ft. diplomouse content! disclaimer: it's totally not farming-sim inspired lmao ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

winter He was there when Blanc handed the papers over to her, all of them checked, signed, and safely nestled within a long white folder. Behind them, standing tall but worn, was a cottage with a chipped black roof, musty stone walls, plywood barred windows, and piles of snow hiding a yard of dried grass.

All that a modest property enclosed by a picket fence with fading paint.

It’s a sore thumb among the many rows of homes and establishments around the Central Quarter; but still she accepted the deed with her shaking fingers and ecstatic grin. He watched quietly as she turned the folder back and forth, those blue eyes running over her own name written on the folder's front a few times; until she lowered her head and pulled the folder oh-so close to her chest.

The folder didn’t bend in her tight embrace, nor did its edges crumple in her firm grasp.

monday || spring 5 The yard has a touch of color now, meek greens that are far more pleasing to the eye than drab yellows and parched browns. She figures that flowers would make the yard look more lively, but the ground needed a little more care before she could get around to planting anything decent.

Advice from an expert gardener, she tells him.

Honestly speaking though, the yard wasn’t the only area of the property that achieved a new level of decency - cleaned and somewhat refurbished, she made the cottage look pretty, look more like a dwelling place rather than some long abandoned lot. Inside the cottage her belongings are little and decorations are sparse, but the simplicity has its charm and he’s sure she’d get by - long months of working under Cradle’s best confectionery allowed her to save up enough Lin to buy a house in Central, after all.

When she offers him a fresh batch of Earl Grey in what she mentioned to be her first ever tea set in Cradle (purchased with her own Lin, managed to coax a fifteen percent off to boot), he accepts it in a heartbeat.

tuesday || spring 13 The walls of the second floor mirror those of the first floor, that being the upper cement halves painted over with a calming cream color to contrast its dark brown wooden lower halves. It looked like coffee and cream that someone couldn’t bear to mix, something that brought about a sense of calm and warmth and also drowsiness. Then again, that might be his fault and also, it’s midday.

She serves him a cup of coffee along with something she called a calzone, a snack from the Land of Reason - the circular flaky pastry had been filled with bacon, egg, and more importantly cheese, and that ingredient alone made the whole thing absolutely delicious in his book. It paired surprisingly well with the rich coffee too, so maybe it’s no surprise that both his food and drink are gone after just a few minutes.

Maybe I should start a cafe, she says with a laugh, eyes dancing with mirth.

He dabs at the edges of his mouth with a napkin, pondering her suggestion. He tries to picture the first floor - a rectangular space that was much wider than it appeared to be - filled with tables and a wide glass display for assorted pastries and shelves storing canisters of tea leaves and coffee beans. Then there in the center of it all would be her, golden hair neatly tied up with a ribbon and blue eyes brimming with a kind warmth.

Welcome, she would say with a smile that reached her eyes, and he decides that it wasn’t a bad idea at all.

Maybe you should, he nods, tone completely serious.

wednesday || spring 21 It was his first time stepping into her kitchen, so he took his time to look around while she was still busy baking. He could’ve waited in the living room, but instead he sat on a stool near the windows and fought the urge to take a nap.

First of all, the place was at optimal temperature - a light breeze was flowing through the open windows to soothe the heat brought about by a running oven, relaxing the body in an environment that was currently a perfect balance of hot and cold.

Second, the scent wafting about the whole room was comforting - he’s not so sure how to describe it himself, but the warm aroma of baking bread along with the lingering touches of tea brewing in the air was more... soothing than appetizing at the moment.

And third, she was there and in the small space she truly looked like she was at home - feet smoothly going to and fro the counters to the oven, swift and steady hands prepping ingredients laid out on the counter, body upright and eyes lost in a state of focus. A practiced confidence exudes from her every action, and the longer he observed her the more he’s reminded that before she fell into Cradle, she was a confectioner from a place called London.

She hummed a tune as she worked, an unfamiliar melody to him that went up and down and up and down. It sounded cute and cheery and it’s something he could associate to her disposition, but all its chipper timbre couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

So instead of struggling, he gives in - his eyelids flutter shut and he couldn’t see her anymore, but he could still hear the soft patter of her shoes tapping against the floor, the humming from her throat. He could still breathe in the scents coming from her fruits of labor, a hefty cheese loaf sure taking its time to be ready for consumption and notes of floral - maybe jasmine - tea.

... He’d been meaning to ask her if she truly resigned from the confectionery, but perhaps that would have to wait.

thursday || spring 29 There’s a pretty windchime attached to the thatched door now, made out of magic crystals and ringing out a light tune in response to the door drawing open. She sees him standing by the doorway and urges him to come in, three letters in one hand and each bearing a different seal on them.

One had a dark color, could be easily mistaken for a big blot of ink but was actually the clay seal known to be used by the Black Army. The other one had an excellent reddish shade, easily identifying itself as the crimson wax seal of the regal Red Army. The last one was a shining bronze, and that color was exclusive to the charm seal bearing the insignia of the Civic Center.

The letters are stuffed away in some drawer, so he assumes that asking about their contents would be impolite.

Once he’s seated on the sofa she disappears into the kitchen to prepare some snacks, so he’s left alone in a... strangely bare home. There’s little furniture, the flowery decorations she hung up here and there have vanished, the picture frames containing assorted pictures of her and the two Armies of Cradle aren’t displayed on fireplace’s mantel, and the row of tall shelves she lined with books ranging from the history and culture of Cradle to Glazed Sweets, and How to Perfect Them weren't around either. Even the fluffy fur rug that he often contemplated taking a nap on was gone!

Spring cleaning, maybe?

They’re halfway through their Assam tea and custard cake when he brings this up - the innocent question renders her quiet for a second then she chuckles, setting her cup back down on its saucer.

Maybe it is spring cleaning - I promised myself to get this place ready in time, she says.

Ready for what? he prompts, head tilting to the side.

A smile blooms on her face, eyes crinkling at the corners.

For... a ‘grand’ opening, I hope!

friday || summer 6 Through the long unbarred and new stained-glass-pane windows shines a bright light - it’s pretty late but still he knocks on her door, standing on the cobblestone path and staring at the neatly trimmed grass of her lawn. She opens the door seconds later, still dressed in her casual skirts and staring at him and his suitcase curiously - nevertheless, she lets him in without any questions asked.

It’s funny how the first floor now looked similar to how he imagined it to be on that one spring day - the room was now filled with at least eight tables paired with cherrywood chairs, looking tasteful and comfortable with plaid blue cushions attached to each seat. Near the far end of the room and close to the door that led to the kitchen was a wide glass display case right beside a clean long counter, surface empty save for a cupcake stand set one end. The tall shelves where her books used to be were relocated to stand against the wall near the display case, hosting an array of tea tins and coffee packs with a toss of assorted accessories and knick-knacks in between.

The dark wooden walls were repainted with an easy mint color, the whole room much brighter with the addition of the iron hanging lanterns secured on the ceiling. Curtains and decors such as paintings and flower vases were simple yet bursting nicely with summer-feel colors, and one corner of the room even had a neat display of potted plants.

The whole space seemed to be well-distributed, not too bare and not too cramped either - there were adequate spaces between tables, ample moving room on the floor for people to roam about. It was a nice place and definitely looking like a good place to nap in, but...

... I won’t be here for your opening day, he blurts out once they’re seated.

He doesn't miss the quick blink of her eyes, the glance to his suitcase, her slow nodding and the brief purse of her lips.

Oh, she says after a while, voice something small.

There’s nothing much to say after that, and he couldn’t find a good reason for her to stay when she stands up and excuses herself. He stares blankly at his hands that have curled themselves into fists on his lap, something sour and unpleasant brewing in his stomach making him feel all the more uncomfortable and -

- then there’s the soft clink of something tapping against wood.

He looks up to see a glass of water and beside it, a fork laid out on a napkin and piece of cake laid out nicely on a saucer.

A slice of triple coffee cheesecake for a busy diplomat, she announces.

His eyes count four layers of brown though, all of different shades and textures.

... Triple layer? he repeats.

That’s right, she nods, then points to each section of the cake according to her narration. The crust below is made out of chocolate graham crackers and set above it is the first layer, a traditional-style cheescake made with a combination of two cheeses. The second layer is lighter since it’s a mousse, the portion of cheese mixed in making it semi-sweet. And finally, the top or third layer is a whipped cream finish, soft and airy with just the right amount of cream cheese mixed in. All three layers also have varying amounts of coffee in them, that’s why -

- it’s a triple coffee cheesecake, he finishes, raising his head fully to meet her eyes.

She holds his gaze for a moment before her open palm gestures to the saucer.

I hope it’s to your liking... dear first customer, she says, the makings of a smile on her lips.

saturday || summer 14 It was only on the strangest of occasions that he had full appreciation for his past of being a former soldier, namely for that one phase in his life where he had undergone rigorous stealth training. The ability to be inconspicuous at will was a ridiculous skill for a diplomat to have, but in the country of Cradle and on this very special day, he’d beg to differ.

So he jumps over the white picket fence, making himself as small as possible by lowering his head and keeping his body close to the ground. As he crept across the yard he caught whiffs of a rich velvety aroma wafting in the air, slipping past that partially opened door just a few steps within his reach now.

When he rises up to his full height to push the door open, she turns around to the sound of creaking wood and the sudden rush of night air flowing into the kitchen, hands still wrist-deep in soapy sink water along with an array of saucers and tea cups.

They just stare at each other for a few seconds: he glances at her slightly mussed ponytail, blinks at the dark brown stains on the apron worn over her dress. She studies his disheveled clothing, takes in what looked like exhaustion written over the entirety of his face.

Tough Valentine’s Day? she decides to ask, voice kind.

He lets out a sigh, closing the kitchen’s back door behind him.

... I wasn’t even able to take a midday nap, he mumbles.

She laughs a bit at the sight of his sullen expression before raising a soapy finger, pointing at the teapot set on the stove.

How about we both take a break, then? she grins. There’s some leftover chocolate cake we can eat, too!

The prospect of seeing chocolate again was slightly unnerving but he nods anyway, if only to see that sweet smile of hers once more.

sunday || summer 15 Behind her there’s a laundry basket filled with a neat pile of various cloths, stains on them ranging from a spectrum of playfully colorful to borderline suspicious.

Behind him is an open back door that led to the outside where the sun is high in the sky, round and bright and beckoning.

Neither of them budge, though - her folded arms are set on the table and her head rests on them sideways, eyes closed and breathing steady. Seated across from her, his elbow is propped up on the table with his chin resting on his hand.

In between them, his cup of coffee and her cup of fruit tea have probably gone cold.

There’s a thick lock of her hair splaying itself on the table, just within his reach. After some period of thought, his free hand reaches out to curl the strands in between his fingers.

Lift, spin, fall - slip in, slip out. Rinse, repeat.

As he idly toyed with her hair, his eyes traced the parts of her face that were visible to his point of view: they follow the curve of her eyelid, assessed the length of her eyelashes, studied those light dark imprints under her eye.

Her laundry can wait, he muses, letting the tranquil silence carry on a little further. It’s all so strange and new, really - the weather conditions, temperature, point in time, and location were all so ideal, but yet...

... with her sleeping face just right in front of him, the only thing he could possibly think of was staying awake.

monday || fall 3 The cafe’s pastel yellows and calm blues have been traded for warm oranges and homely browns, sweet scents of vanilla and sandalwood replaced with spicy notes of cinnamon and gingerbread.

The chalkboard menu doesn’t feature iced teas and fruit cakes anymore, but filling in for them was a selection of hot drinks and club sandwiches. The cupcake stand on the counter was now a wicker basket filled with an assortment of cookies, each one in a small bag secured by patterned ribbons.

There are the little things that stay the same though, like how the wooden sign outside the cafe already spells ‘open’ come six o’clock sharp in the mornings. The windchime attached to the door still rings out a clear tune that echoed throughout the whole room, and in response to that her swift welcome would follow, voice happily loud and smile reaching her eyes.

He stands up to leave when the clock strikes nine, the agenda of a general assembly still fresh in his mind. She’s attending to other customers so he decides to leave his payment on the table, right next to his empty mug of hot cocoa.

The windchime rings again when he pulls the door open, and before he’s able to take his first step outside, he feels something pull lightly at his arm.

When looks over his shoulder, she’s slipping a small bag with a striped green ribbon into his hand.

Have a good day, she beams, then she turns on her heel and bounds off to table three.

tuesday || fall 11 It’s only when she pours some more tea in his cup that he realizes that there were no other customers left in sight, and that from madding reds and oranges; the sky had already taken on dark hues of blues and purples.

I have to admit - I’m not so sure what other work a diplomat does asides from... communicating, she says with a laugh, taking the seat across from him. Do you do paperwork often, too?

He closes the folder in his hands, setting it on top of the other folders he had finished reading and set aside earlier.

It’s a case-to-case basis, he hums. But if you ask me... Establishing foreign policies, contracts, treaties, trade agreements, and the like usually end up with more talks than actual paperwork if there's already a relationship between countries present. New connections start up with more paperwork as a formality - I mediate and negotiate any meeting or summit, survey and study any paperwork concerned, but in the end it’s the Civic Center that makes the final decision and action.

... I see, she nods a couple of times, then she taps a finger on her chin. Um... I know I’ve been living here for a while now so this sounds silly of me to ask just now, but I’ve only studied the map of Cradle, and I was wondering... how wide exactly is this world?

No sooner than the question had left her lips, she finds his hands clutching her very own and his face just a handspan away.

His breath, smelling faintly of apple cider tea, fans her cheeks when he speaks.

Do you want to know? he asks, voice adapting a deep tone she’s never heard him use before.

Mouth going dry, her eyes try to skitter away from the intensity of his gaze but they’re hopelessly drawn to every facial feature of his that she hadn’t quite noticed before instead: the defined lines of his cheekbones, the sharp bridge of his nose, unusually long yet dainty eyelashes, the curve of his li -

Warmth pools even further in her cheeks, words a pathetic squeak stuck in her throat.

wednesday || fall 19 On the second shelf, he spots three tea tins and five coffee packs with different designs and packaging. He blinks and proceeds to go over the contents of the other shelves too, and in total he counts eight new tea tins and twelve unusual coffee packs.

When he picks out a coffee pack in gold and silver wrapping with a familiar sigil drawn on its center, he hears a hum of approval.

That has a strong smoky aroma but a sweet delicate flavor, someone says.

He turns around to see her standing not so far away, a serving tray in her hands and feet pointed elsewhere.

This coffee pack has the sigil of Tenniel, he points out. Their fine woodcarvings and colorful handicrafts are gaining popularity in Cradle, but there’s a general lack of appreciation for the extreme bitter flavors that all Tenniel food products seem to have.

Is that so? Then maybe more people should try tasting that coffee, she shrugs. I think that blend tastes rather lovely - not a tad bitter at all.

You also have coffee packs and tea tins from Gernsheim, Pleasance, Lionel, Ludovic, and Dalziel - Tenniel included, they’re small countries that Cradle formed trade agreements with. Those negotiations were recently made, so it’s natural that most of their products aren’t familiar and don’t have much of a reputation in Cradle’s markets yet. But why did you...

His voice began to trail off, as if the question on the tip of his tongue was slowly being answered the longer he stared at the soft smile on her face.

Someone recently taught me that the key to good diplomacy, she paused as she moved forward to pluck the coffee pack from his hands, ... is the effort to start with even the smallest of steps.

She winks at him before making a beeline for the kitchen.

thursday || fall 27 He picks off one glittery bag from the wicker basket on the counter, peering at the gingerbread cookie inside. It’s person-shaped, and there’s something about how its clothes are snow-white and the dot-buttons on it are gold.

Oh, he mouths after a few minutes.

He trades glitter for a star-patterned bag this time, and inside was another gingerbread cookie. Lo and behold, there it was: a person-shaped treat dressed in black clothes with silver accents.

Here’s your order, a cup of Dalziel’s triple berry te... what are you doing? she asks, setting the tea cup down gently on the counter.

In response to that he retrieves the glitter bag from the basket, then he turns around to wave the two bags in his hands.

You make Red and Black Army gingerbread men? he inquires. Her lips quirk upwards.

Children like those a lot, she explains. They find it really cute - and tasty!

He’d like to point out that while the Black Army as a whole would probably find this hilarious, it’s perhaps the majority of the ever-so proud Red Army that might find offense in seeing miniature versions of themselves being called cute and eaten by children.

He doesn’t, though.

What he settles for is putting the cookies back on the basket then leaning his body forwards, peering at her face instead. She stays in place but her head draws back a bit, eyes blinking a bit faster.

... What is it? she mutters after seconds of silence and scrutiny.

He goes over her features again; starting from the ends of her braided blonde hair, up to the center of her forehead, going to the blue of her eyes, passing the tip of her nose then down to those full lips.

I want a gingerbread cookie, he says.

The tension in her brow relaxes, her expression almost relieved.

Oh. Oh, that’s fine! Then you can have one -

... Of you.

- of those in the... wait, what?

friday || winter 4 There’s a long coat draped over her shoulders and a scarf around her neck, offering better protection from the cold than her nightgown could ever provide. Long socks cover her legs and fluffy slippers adorn her feet, and for a moment he ponders over how warm and comfortable that must feel.

Meanwhile, she’s going over the current situation - it’s just an hour before midnight, she’s about to go to bed but then she heard a couple of knocks on her door, so she decides to crack the door open just enough to take a peek. She ends up opening the door anyway because she sees him standing outside her snow-piled doorway, a lone suitcase his companion on the cobblestone path.

Well - this is familiar, she chuckled as she stepped aside and motioned him to enter. He accepts her invitation, pulling his suitcase along with him.

Another season meant that the silvery stripes and royal blues of winter would now take over the cafe’s warm oranges and homely browns, and the spice that used to linger in the air was cleared by the crisp smell of pine with touches of wood smoke from the fireplace.

The subdued colors weren’t so lively, but the cafe still felt so cozy.

When they’re seated and two steaming cups of fresh milk are in their hands, he pointedly stares at the large decoration set at the very center of the room.

Where did you get the tree? he asks, drawn to the shiny green leaves.

It’s... a generous donation from the Queen of Hearts, she grins. It came with a lot of decorations, too! I'll be putting them up tomorrow night, though.

I see. I’m sorry that I can’t help you with the decorating.

It’s fine, don’t worry about it! More importantly, where are you going this time?

... Ludovic. I’ll be there for five days.

Five days, hm? she hums for a bit, then later wrinkles her nose. Oh, didn’t you say that Ludovic is surrounded by mountain ranges? It must be way colder there right now since it’s winter! Are you sure you brought enough clothes?

I did. Ludovic’s winter has a lot more bite than Cradle’s, but I’ll be alright - I’ve grown used to it over time.

She pins him down with her narrowed eyes and pursed lips - he doesn’t shy away from her gaze though, choosing to meet her leering head on.

... Really? she mutters, a stern edge lowering her tone. How cute.

Really, he smiles.

He takes the sigh that follows seconds later as her sign of defeat, but he’s unsure on why she’s suddenly unraveling the layers of her scarf. She tugs at the cloth once and it lets go of her neck, yarn embellishments on each end falling loosely.

A couple of folds later and her outstretched arms offer him the scarf, a neat bundle of knitted beige cloth in her hands.

You can give it back once you’ve come home, she says.

saturday || winter 12 The papers spread out on the table are promptly ignored, just like how her intention of getting some accounting done was overthrown by a sudden interest in watching him brew coffee.

The blend was a gift to him given by a farmer’s village in Ludovic - the coffee beans were round in shape and black in color, earthy in smell and rather tiny. He opens the packet and scoops a spoonful of beans to put in the mortar, along with some...

Are those... beans? she asks from where she sat.

Ludovic’s cardamom, he replies casually.

Her brow furrows a bit, and it grows deeper by just watching him throw in some amounts of another unusual ingredient - star anise, she recognizes, and something in her shivered at the sight.

One of the locals taught me one of their favorite recipes, he says. They showed me how to make the coffee from start to finish, and when I took a sip of the finished product, it reminded me of you.

Hm? It reminded you... of me?

Yeah. The whole time I was drinking the coffee, I was thinking about how much I wanted to make it for you... and how’d you react once you had a taste of the coffee I made.

He isn’t facing her so she couldn’t see his expression properly, but there’s a solemnity to his confession that warms the tips of her ears.

... O-oh, she manages to spit out.

The pestle’s in his hand now, and the other one moves to hold the mortar. Grip tight and eyes focused, he began to crush the mortar’s contents. Crunching sounds accompany each grind of the pestle, catching both her eyes and her attention again.

Freed from their silk glove confines, she finds herself drawn to the bare skin of his hands, the curves of his knuckles, the bend of his fingers and the shape of his fingertips. They’re all so new sides to him that fascinate her, and after some prolonged staring she realizes two things -

One: his hands were larger than they looked, and they definitely belonged to a former soldier - some were faint and most were old, but her eyes could still pinpoint where some scars began and where they ended across his skin.

The second one, no matter how trivial it seemed, made her feel bubbly enough for her to vocalize that -

... This is first time someone’s ever made me coffee, she murmurs.

sunday || winter 13 A full moon’s blooming brightly in the night sky - the moonlight it trickles down on the stained glass windows makes each mosaic design shine, resulting in colorful shadows gracing the wooden floor.

Fifteen minutes had passed, but he still showed no sign of waking up like he had promised her earlier. Not like she had the heart to wake him herself, considering that he’d been in Tenniel’s grand court from dawn to midday solving a miscommunication, returned to Cradle just in time for a meeting in the Gardens, was afterwards ordered to mediate a growing village dispute somewhere around the closer outskirts of Cradle’s borders, then was hauled away immediately to act as an interpreter for the Gernsheim envoys having difficulty expressing their wish to pass through Cradle’s seas.

All that jumping in and out of Cradle in one day, made possible by magic - he surprised her when he suddenly appeared in her living room too, looking worse for wear than she’d ever seen him before.

Gently, she picks up the tea cup and saucer on the table - maybe it was pushy of her, forcing him to eat and drink something when his eyes could barely keep themselves open. Still, he drained the tea cup and left little traces of the cheesecake on the saucer without a single word of complaint.

Then he passed out on her couch.

... Five more minutes, she muses. Before heading back downstairs, her eyes go over his sleeping profile one more time: head laying sideways on a pillow, brown hair going about all sorts of directions across his face, jacket loose and vest unbuttoned, legs curled up near to the chest, one arm dangling off the couch.

One beige scarf around the neck, a hand keeping the fabric close to his lips.

Her face eases into a kind smile, her gaze as equally warm.

Welcome home, she says, a gentle whisper in the silent night.

2: oh man.... going back to writing dialogue with no quotation marks is an experience™.... and tbh i still can't settle on a temporary 'footing' for mousse's character┗(･ω･;)┛it's nice to know that he's pretty passionate about his job though! altho rly cybird... why isn't this diplomat fixing the diplomatic trainwreck that is cradle itself lolol 3: alice living in and owning a cafe in central is one of my personal headcanons - i was allowed to be self-indulgent, lol! ( ᐛ )و and the names of the countries on fall 19 btw are actually names of people that are one way or another related to the making / publishing of alice in wonderland! idk if cradle really has... uh, small neighboring countries... but i'd like to think there are??????? probably??? (゜▽゜;)

#ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #ikerev fanfic #mousse atlas #ikerev alice #12 month calendar??? more like harvest moon/story of seasons calendar haha!#... is this a log of heart/flower events then gosh this is a lot lolol

38 notes · View notes

squishymoth · 3 years

Text

Moth’s and Lorelei’s Veggie or Vegan Sandwich Tips:

To preface this I’m kind of a picky eater, especially about textures. Most delis in my area's offerings for vegetarians are made up of various roasted veggies, avocado and cucumber, resulting in a very GOOPY unappetizing sandwich.

I also don’t subscribe to the idea that vegetarians should only eat vegetables, and that fake meats are all flavorless and pointless. Most of the tastiest vegetarian sandwiches I’ve had include fake meats.

Nothing I’ve written here is crazy insightful or revolutionary but if anything here helps someone make a tasty vegetarian or vegan sammy I will be happy.

Additions specifically written by my lovely girlfriend Lorelei are marked (L) for Luigi.

Sandwich thoughts below the cut!

Fake Meat:

I will start with the cheaper, easier to find fake meats. Good vege sandwiches should be accessible IMO. I believe these brands will be more widely available and you won’t have to go to a specialty health food store to find em.

Morning Star Farms Bacon:

The MSF bacon is salty and savory and can be as crispy or chewy as you like. Just cook it a couple minutes on either side in a dry non-stick pan. I’m not sure that it tastes exactly like bacon, but it’s strong point is that it has a good flavor all on its own which is what I think defines any good vege meat.

Morning Star Chik Patties:

A great chik’n patty if you are looking for a crispy chicken sandwich, easy to cook in the skillet or the microwave (both ways come out tasty and crispy). Overall Morning Star has good stuff and is widely available.

Tofurkey:

really succeeds at a lunch meat texture and has a subtle savory flavor that allows it to support other sandwich ingredients.

Fancier Fake Meats:

Green Slice Meatless Deli Slices:

(WARNING not all of them are vegan some use egg white) I’ve often wondered why there was no vege ham alternative, on a recent grocery run I discovered there was one! Green Slice’s applewood smoked slice (I have only tried this flavor, but I’m sure the others are also good) these have a lovely very meat-like texture and flavor. My only quibble is that they are very small and there aren’t that many.

Sweet Earth Facon:

This bacon smells amazing and tastes very bacony. It is cooked in oil, make sure to use paper towel to blot off extra oil.

Light Life Smoky Tempeh Bacon:

Tempeh itself gets a bad rap (you have to cook it in a very specific way), but honestly for sandwiches tempeh is not worth using unless its smokey tempeh bacon. It has a lovely flavor, but it is a very different experience to the other two facons in this list. Imagine it as the contrast between your typical everyday bacon and a thick cut, pepper corn encrusted, artisanal bacon. It is thicker and chewier, but has a delicious smoky sweet flavor.

Tofu:

Pan Seared Tofu:

Ok if you’re really not into fake meats or you just like tasty tofu here is a home made, very tasty, and pretty all purpose recipe for a tofu sandwich filling. This recipe is from The Pho Cookbook by Andrea Nguyen. Best part about it, no need to press! Cooking it in the pan before adding oil drives off water super well, and gives a really unique tenderness. We eat this on it’s own, it’s that good!

Ingredients: firm tofu, 1 TBSP neutral oil, 1 TBSP soy sauce (optional in this case if it doesn’t fit the VIBE of your sandwich, if you leave out the soy sauce make sure to compensate with other umami ingredients in the sandwich)

Instruction: cut your tofu into desired shape (triangle or domino or whatever) put them in a DRY non stick pan, and drizzle with soy sauce on both sides (if desired, salt and pepper could also be used).

Cook on medium without disturbing the pieces for ~5 mins.

Drizzle with oil and then flip them, allow the second side to cook for ~5 mins.

To check if the second side is ready try shaking the pan a little, if the tofu moves you can flip. If they are not to your desired brownness flip again and allow to continue cooking until you are satisfied. You are looking for a mottled brown color.

Crispy Tofu:

If you are looking for a crispier tofu here is a homegrown method that I’ve learned through trial and error, also a great addition to spring rolls.

Ingredients: firm tofu, neutral oil, salt and pepper (any other seasoning you like). OPTIONAL: a sauce as in orange sauce, teriyaki, or even BBQ (never tried BBQ but it could work.)

Instructions:

Most important thing for crispy tofu is to drain and PRESS IT. I would press it for between 15-20 minutes. Either cut up your pieces to desired shape and size before pressing or press the whole block if you want to prepare a big portion.

After they are pressed and the moisture is removed, season your tofu. I’ve experimented with rolling tofu in cornstarch to add an extra crispiness but it should crisp up on its own. You may just sprinkle your desired seasoning on both sides as you like.

In a non stick pan fry tofu on both sides in oil (enough to coat your pan) on medium high heat until golden brown and crispy. When cooking tofu I’ve heard it’s good to leave it undisturbed before flipping to prevent bits sticking to the bottom and preserve inner softness. Try shaking the pan, if the tofu moves a bit it is not going to stick to the pan and lose it’s crispy outer layer. When they are finished cooking set the tofu on a paper towel to remove any excess oil.

OPTIONAL: in the last minutes of cooking add a sauce of your choosing, flip the tofu to coat.

Fats:

Avocado:

Avocado is a great addition to almost any sandwich, especially if you are vegan or lactose intolerant. It can easily take the place of cheese or mayo in 99% of sandwiches.

Vegan Cheese:

My girlfriend has tried MANY vegan cheeses and has found all of them to be disappointing. So we have no recommendations for vegan cheese.

Garlic Butter:

A tasty spread to up your sandwiches flavor. we don’t have a recipe with EXACT measurements, this is all to taste. This can be applied to any sandwich for extra flavor and fat.

Ingredients:

A couple spoonfuls of Butter/Vegan butter

1 small garlic clove (or garlic powder)

Black pepper

Italian herb blend (or pretty much any green herb, fresh or dried [dried preferred] will be tasty)

Honey (if vegan just leave out the honey)

Instructions: In a small bowl grate your garlic clove into the butter, add all other seasonings and the optional honey, and mix. Make sure and taste, if you find it under flavored add more of the flavor stuff, if it is overpowering add more butter (this can keep in the fridge if you end up with too much). Then just spread the desired amount on your toasted bread.

(L) Mayonnaise:

Ok listen, it's stinky. But so is almost every cheese. It adds more of a feeling than a flavor, the fattiness can really uplift a lot of sandwiches, especially with tomato. But, if you are opposed to mayo for whatever reason, avocado, cheese, even olive oil, will fill this role. (not sure about vegan mayos but it can't be that hard to nail right? (Moth does not endorse this pro mayo stance)

(L) Vegan/Dairy freeRanch:

I don’t like ranch, but this homemade stuff really justifies it. I used normal mayo but it should work with vegan mayo. This is a very loose recipe, so tweak it to what works for you

½ cup mayonnaise (egg or plant based)

½ a lemons worth of juice

¼ cup oat milk (soy and almond milk don't play nice with savory flavor)

1 tsp garlic powder

Salt and pepper to taste

1 tbsp fine chopped fresh dill (or dried, or any green herb0

Whisk the mayo, milk, and lemon together. Add your herbs, and let it sit in the fridge overnight

This is the most important step, this time allows the garlic powder to rehydrate and the herbs to steep that give the ranch its signature flavor. Ranch is basically garlic powder sauce.

I have not tested this ratio much (ok fine at all), so trust your gut!

Also fun fact, juice of 1 lemon + 1 cup of oat milk + time = 1 cup of vegan buttermilk!

MISC:

Deli dressing:

You can buy this bottled in store or make your own at home easily. It will add that deli je ne sais quoi to a sandwich. Works best on a simple sandwich that might otherwise be lacking in flavor.

Ingredients:

Olive oil

Red wine vinegar (any vinegar should do TBH)

Italian seasoning (again some dried oregano or other similar dried herbs should be fine)

Salt and pepper

OPTIONAL: put some vinegar hot sauce (tapatio, cholula, taco bell packet, etc) in that bad boy.

Instructions: mix it UP. This is another recipe that I usually just measure out by eye and taste

Falafel: I am not very experienced in making falafel so I don’t have a recipe on hand, but they are yummy.

Sprouts: a welcome addition to almost any sandwich, earthy, light and crunchy. They are also really easy to grow in a jar at home.

Pickles: love these funny dudes, they don't play well with sweeter sandwiches though. Use your judgement.

Chips: put em in there, 12 year olds know what they're doing.

Dutch Crunch: objectively the best sandwich bread.

Coleslaw: if you dislike coleslaw maybe you’ve only had a mayo based one. The only good coleslaw is vinegar based. Thin sliced cabbage, olive oil, vinegar of choice, honey (or vegan alternative) a spoonful of grainy mustard and salt and pepper. Great on a chik’n based sandwich.

Vegetarian Sandwich Ideas:

I don’t really have anything ground breaking here but here are some of the tastiest sandwiches I’ve made. If for some reason you want to try making one of these you can add or leave off anything you like. Salt and pepper all your sandwiches. And add cheese to any if you eat cheese!

BLAT or BLA:

To start this off, I don’t like tomatoes in sandwiches, I know I’m not correct, but you can add tomatoes if you want.

Ingredients:

Garlic butter

iceberg lettuce (or any lettuce)

avocado

facon (my fav is morning star farms, a fancier facon such as smoky tempeh bacon is also good but has a completely different flavor and texture)

tomatoes (optional because I do not like them)

(L) TOMATO TIP: salt and pepper your tomatoes and let them sit a moment, also if its not tomato season cherry tomatoes are ur best bet for a decent tomato from the store.

Orange Tofu Sandwich:

A note: feel free to substitute a different sauce or to omit sauce entirely. The pan seared tofu makes a good sandwich filling without any extra sauce.

Ingredients: pan seared tofu, crispy tofu, or gardein orange chikn nuggets (these come with a packet of orange sauce)

Orange sauce

Iceberg lettuce (other lettuces or even finely chopped cabbage will be good as well)

Avocado

Thin sliced sweet or bell pepper

(L) Fancy “Ham” on Rye:

Ingredients:

Rye bread The rye bread adds a lovely funky herby note to the entire experience. Its what makes it fancy.

Green Slice applewood smoked(or any You could use tofurkey, but honestly if you find it/afford it green slice has an amazing texture and deep flavor that tofurkey doesn't. This is a simple fancy sandwich, splurging is gonna go a long way here.

Garlic Honey butter

Iceberg Lettuce (again or any other lettuce, or a mix with arugula and spinach)

Optional mayo: (L) i adore mayonnaise on this kind of sandwich, it really lets the other flavors shine. I havent tried it with avocado, my gut says it wouldnt work as good but I’m not a cop put some on there avocado is yummy.

Optional cheese a sharp cheddar or fancy gruyere.

Crispy Chik’n Sandwich:

Ingredients:

Morning Star Chik Patty (spicy one if ur spicy)

Facon (strong recommendation for morning star on this one)

Vinegary vegan coleslaw (or any lettuce iceberg is recommended and easier on the fly)

Dill pickles (pickles+crispy chicken very yummy, we specify it on this one because its almost necessary for a spicy sandwich.)

Condiments of choice (ketchup, BBQ, honey, hot sauce etc)

Deli Style Sandwich:

A really basic sandwich, add whatever other sandwich fixings you like.

Ingredients:

Tofurkey

Sprouts

Iceberg lettuce

Sandwich dressing

Avocado

Pickle or Cucumber

#vegetarian cooking #vegetarian sandwiches #vegan sandwich

2 notes · View notes

until-we-fall-in-love · 5 years

Text

Into the Hush: Chapter One

Into the Hush Masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes/Reader, Wanda Maximoff/Reader undertones

Summary: It's only ever been you and the rugged wilderness; both unkempt and undomesticated. Until it isn't anymore.

(1870s Cowboy AU. A/B/O AU. Gothic/horror.)

Warnings: Violence, gore, dark themes, A/B/O dynamics, smut in later chapters.

If you are under 18, you should not be reading this!

A/N: howdy ya’ll lol don’t know how i came up with this one but it’s an A/B/O cowboy historical gothic au. it’s gonna get dark! also gonna be a real nasty slow burn lmaooo so mind the warnings, if you don’t do well with gore or violence, perhaps this isn’t the fic for you. also if you don’t like the Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, this isn’t for you, either, though i will be taking some liberties with this and trying to give my own take on it because there are aspects of it that i don’t like lol. im not quite sure how long this series will be, but i have plans for it. that being said, saddle up pardner lol and pls let me know what you thought of this first chapter!!!!

---

Wyoming, 1872

The early morning air is crisp with new spring, cold and a little damp, dew glistening on the grass and glinting gold in the morning sun. Your breath still comes out in soft puffs that curl into the air as you step out onto your creaking, front porch. It overlooks the barren dirt road that leads up to your humble and charming farmhouse; weathered by time and storm and pleasantly cluttered with life and home at every turn. Off to the left is the freshly tilled ground that has been planted in; herbs and fruits and vegetables that will take over in the warm summer months. Trees have shaken the snow from them and have turned green and budding and new again.

You wrap your shawl tighter around your shoulders, trying to gather more warmth from the worn cream, crochet wrap. You know once the sun rises higher into the afternoon, you’ll grow too warm for it, but now it’s needed. The wind curls around you, rustles your hair, lifts your skirts. It carries the promise of warmth, the reminder of winter.

All is peaceful in the morning, before the day has broken over the hills. All that sings is the birds, lovely and bright and flitting from tree to tree.

You lift your skirts, head over to the back porch, which wraps the entire way along your house. In the back is the barn, the pasture for the animals to graze when it’s warm. The creek towards the back, bubbling softly over the stones, crystal clear and cool. It’s perfect on a summer afternoon, but now would be too cold for you.

And you begin your day, head over to the shed where you ready the feed for the chickens, grab a basket for eggs. You enter the coop, greet the clucking hens with a coo, spreading food for them which they hurry to eagerly. As they eat, you gently reach for warm eggs in their nest, gather it into your basket and rush on to your other chores.

Milk the cows, get them fresh water, fresh hay and in the afternoon, you’ll let them out in the pasture to warm in the sun.

A few of them are round with calves, ready to give birth any day now.

You tend to the single horse, only one now after your father’s male passed away last spring. The one left is yours; a dappled, brown mare you’ve affectionately called Clover.

You’ll take her to town later, to sell extra eggs and milk, all the goods you can in exchange for bread or spices or money for the tax collector. By the time you’re finished with your chores, which is taking longer and longer as the farm extends and your father grows older and older, it’s around noon, the sun beginning to warm into pleasant rays of topaz and canary.

Your father sits on the porch, in his old rocking chair, smoking a pipe. His knee has been bad since this past fall, has a harder and harder time helping you. Not that you mind; this farm has practically become yours, but he hates leaving you to it all alone.

He’s been dying to set you up with an Alpha, find a good man to marry and help you with the farm. But none of the men from town pique your interest, few good Alphas in the small town of Longbrook, Wyoming. The train, not far from town, brings newcomers once and awhile, but it’s mostly quiet, tucked away in a valley, a river snaking its way through and out into the plains of wildflowers and fields.

You know Longbrook’s secrets, the quiet, beautiful places that you run to when you have the time. Spend your evenings lazing in columbine and aster flowers, beneath old, crooked trees near quiet, turquoise lakes. Or on a bluff, looking high above the world, cool wind in your face and the fluttering of birds nearer to you than planted on the grounds below.

You know where not to stray to, when the wilderness grows too rough and dangerous. Unrestrained in both it’s beauty and viciousness.

So independent that you can’t quite imagine your life beside another, especially not beside an Alpha, with their combative, controlling natures. You can’t imagine a husband that wouldn’t mind you taking off, disappearing into the wilderness and returning when you fancy; like some feral cat, your father always remarks gruffly.

He isn’t a fan of your disappearing acts, either. Alpha that he is, he’s kept careful and close watch on you since you discovered you were Omega, as irritating as it is. Controlling, but only because he means well. You manage to sate him by coming home before nightfall, when dusk is lavender and rose and the moon is only beginning to take the sun’s place. Besides, there’s not much he can do with his bad knee, can’t keep you cooped up the way he used to.

Ever since your mother had passed, you had to step up around the farm, grow up a little too quick. Responsible and resourceful, you work hard for you and your father. But your father has grown rather overprotective, wary with the Alphas he let come around; well respected in the town, no one has dared disobey him. A few had tried; Brock Rumlow, the tax collector, was the most notable of them. Pushy and irksome, he’d tried to convince you to disobey, sway you to sneak out with him or let him come by but you always turned your nose up at him.

You have no interest in someone so aggressive, so controlling.

You aren’t one to roll over or lower your eyes submissively; many Omegas aren’t, in your opinion, but it’s expected. There’s no time for that, though, not for you. No use or desire for it. You have a farm to take care of, to keep running smoothly. You have a life to live, adventures to have, open sky to chase.

And there’s certainly nothing and no one that’s going to stop you.

“Be careful goin’ into town,” Your father speaks up finally, smoke curling from his lips, voice rough and fogged, “Heard there was a few newcomers.”

Your father is always wary of newcomers, prefers to assess them himself, rather than hear from others.

“Yes, pa.” You respond, not particularly interested in them, nor sticking around for one of your father’s infamous lectures. You hurry on, grabbing all that you need, loading up Clover for the journey. You saddle her up, throw yourself over her with practiced ease, hitching your skirts up slightly and out of the way.

“Be home by nightfall!” Your father hollers after you, but you’re already easing Clover onto the dirt path.

“Of course!” You call back, just as you urge her into a faster pace, your voice carries on the wind, distant and as light as the new blossoms.

You push her into a gallop; not because there’s a rush, but because it’s fun. Because the wind is in your hair and the sun is warm on your shoulders and Clover thunders across the ground, kicking up dirt and making a mess.

You let a grin hitch onto the corner of your lips, lean forward, ease into the speed. The town is only a twenty minute ride, fifteen if you pushed, but you want to enjoy the ride. The landscape blurs past you in shades of olive and juniper, butter cream, robin’s egg blue. The pop of lily white, a sudden burst of dainty pink or blushing red. But it’s just you and the trees and the pounding of your heart along the beat of hooves against the solid ground.

Free and open and bursting, you race away from home eagerly and into the wilderness.

You end up slowing Clover halfway through your journey, appreciating the spring air, new and linen clean, shadowed patterns falling over you beneath the trees. The wind tickles your cheeks, the distant sound of the river can be heard when you listen carefully, a soft rush of water. It’s soothing, like the creek by your house, the sloshing lake you visit often. You let it carry you into town, peaceful, lazily letting Clover step onto more worn dirt roads.

Town people shout to you in greeting, wave as you pass by; you’re a familiar face to them. You give them smiles, holler back to some as you make your way to the grocers to sell your eggs and milk. You swing down from Clover, hopping easily onto your feet.

You end up walking out of the grocer’s with some extra money and a few cans of preserved vegetables and fruits. You buy some bread at the bakery, a pastry to split with Wanda, who you’re hoping can join you for the afternoon.

You catch sight of her outside the dress shop, peering at the finely made clothes through the window. She wears her own dress of dove grey, similar in fashion to yours rather than the ones she gazes at; your dresses are looser, easier to move and work and play in, aprons tied around your waists instead of the ruffles and frill of the dresses in the window. Her long curls cascade over her shoulders, near copper under the afternoon sun.

You call to her, watch as her features light up upon seeing you, before she picks her skirts up and bounds over to you. Her scent hits you; sweetly Omega, soft clary sage, warm rose, and damp patchouli. Mysterious and floral, she’s always been a little offbeat with her wide, wondering eyes that linger in darkness.

Some of the elders call her a witch, little demon child, with her Eastern European ties and mischievous curl of her lips. But to you she is only Wanda, your dearest.

Her fingers, nimble and quick, find yours, lock and lace together. “Hello, darling.” She says, pressing her lips to your cheek in greeting, her voice melodic and smooth; velvet dark and sweet twilight.

You let your cheek brush hers, lean into the touch eagerly, soft, rosy and warm skin against yours. “Hello, Wanda.”

She pulls back with a flutter of her lashes, wide eyes finding yours. There’s a familiar glimmer in them, which makes your heart leap amorously, excited and playful. “Are we going to sneak off to the meadow today, still?” She asks, dropping her voice to a hush and stepping nearer. Your hands tighten over hers as you draw closer, duck your head so you catch another breeze of her scent in her hair, the nape of her neck.

“Yes,” You reply, an eager smile pulling at your lips, “I bought us a pastry to split and a book to read.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” She nearly purrs, bouncing lightly on her toes in excitement. You’re about to pull her along, drag her towards Clover when someone clears their throat behind you.

You both turn, fingers still interwoven, pressed to one another’s sides. Her warmth is welcome and comforting, especially as you both find Rumlow gazing back at the pair of you with depthless, cold eyes. His face, so marred and twisted, gleams pink and shiny with scarred and new skin under the afternoon light. The rays of white gold sunlight do nothing to lighten his features, nor the darkness of his gaze.

It pierces deep into you, as if he wants to pry and prod and pick you cleanly apart. It’s the gaze of a conqueror, you think, the gaze of someone who wants something that can never be theirs. It’s a disturbing hunger, the kind that sends a deep chill down your spine.

Wanda squeezes your hand in comfort. So attuned to you, she perhaps can tell by body language or the dip in your scent that you’re frightened in some way, that Rumlow has caused you distress and he has yet to even open his jagged, scarred mouth.

“Lovely afternoon for you ladies.” He says very coldly, as if he is not in fact concerned with the weather nor you both.

“Yes, it is.” Wanda replies for you, a dark, protective little gleam in her eyes. You can smell the shift of scent with her light aggression, the flare of sage that burns and tickles your nose. It sharpens and spices, makes you blink with it.

“You’re both looking mighty fine, rich with spring. Omegas always were sweetest in spring. Isn’t that right?” He muses and it chills you to the bone, makes you press closer to Wanda’s side, as if you could fold into the safety of her body.

There is old folklore; spring being associated with Omegas. It’s all about fertility and the new life that blossoms in spring, old wives’ tales of Omegas getting their strongest heats in the spring after long, dormant winters. Perhaps there is some truth to it, biologically, because winter can get so harsh and so sparse with food if one isn’t careful. Bearing children in winter would never be easy, but it’s something you don’t wish to linger on, particularly not with the way Rumlow is eyeing you.

Like ripening fruit to be picked. A flower blooming, awaiting the moment to pluck it from the earth.

Wanda grows uncomfortable now, too, you can feel it in the bunching of her slim shoulders. But she steps in front of you purposefully, a show of challenge to Rumlow, one of protection for you.

“Isn’t that right, ladies?” Rumlow urges, taking a step forward and Wanda sharply takes a step back, forcing you back as well. You cling to the back of her skirts with tense, seeking fingers.

“I sure hope you’re not botherin’ these girls.” Another voice speaks up, authoritative and strong and sure. The kind of voice that gives commands, ones you think many eagerly would follow. Not unkind, but unwavering. When you both turn to the source, it’s a blond man, broad shouldered and wide and tall. He’s dressed simply, the top few buttons of his shirt popped open to reveal a muscled chest. Pretty, light blue eyes. He has an honest face, a strong jaw, trustworthy and noble.

His scent is distinctly Alpha, strong and commanding; cedar wood and leather. The soft notes of something gentler like cotton and the way your linen smells on a summer day fluttering in the breeze to be dry. It’s soothing, a deep comfort compared to the off-beat, metal tang and sour blood smell of Rumlow’s scent.

Which, has become bitter and salty with his anger and aggression for this newcomer.

“I wasn’t bothering them. Was I bothering you Omegas?” He asks sharply, prickling with agitation and it makes you grip Wanda’s skirts a little tighter. “And who are you, anyways?” He then almost growls, “Newcomer isn’t gonna tell me what to do.”

You can tell Rumlow’s itching to pick a fight by the tightening of his shoulders and baring of his teeth. The air becomes charged with scent, territorial and angry and pungent. Wanda’s is still spiced and agitated, too, with the threat of Rumlow. Your own is dipped into distress, irritation, and the newcomer’s becomes stronger, cedar wood sharp. Rooted in place, he cocks his head slightly, challenging.

“Why don’t you move along.” The newcomer says, and he’s not asking, he’s telling. It’s bold of him, with the way Rumlow’s face; twisted and angry, settles on him. No one challenges Rumlow in this town. He holds too much power, is too strong; both physically and socially. Even protected by the law by being a tax collector for Alexander Pierce.

Another man steps up behind the blond, eyeing Rumlow with particularly cold and dark eyes; midnight blue, the evening sky bleary with stars, depthless and all consuming. His hair is longer, brushing the tops of his shoulders, half pulled back from his strong face--

When your eyes settle upon his features for the first time, it feels as if you’ve been struck; a blow of lightning, the sudden shock of cold water, the gasp you take when you resurface. It’s damning, you think, as if you’ve seen him in your dreams or in hazy, unknown past lives. As if you’ve known him your whole life, somehow, as if you recognize him now and wonder how you ever could’ve forgotten him.

He looks like the tragic heroes you read about; the ones that rise only to fall, crumble down after being so noble and wide-eyed. He is breathtaking and standing tall and strong against Rumlow’s piercing gaze. There’s a warning in his eyes, a half-dare, begging Rumlow to try something and see what happens now. Where the blond is golden-hearted and bright-eyed, he seems darker, more eclipsed.

And surprisingly, it works, Rumlow eyes the pair of them, weighs his options, and then promptly steps down. He mutters something about leaving, about how this isn’t the end. But you can’t help the quirk of a smile, the hint of cruel amusement you get from watching him ease away. Slink off back into the hustle of town.

Wanda smiles wider than you, sharper, a little more mischievous, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Rumlow cower like that.” She says and turns towards the newcomers with a radiance that is hard to match.

And the blond smiles, easy and gentle, “Glad we could help.” And then with deep courtesy, “Steve Rogers, by the way.”

“Wanda Maximoff.” She pulls you back up to her side once more, offers your name to them, too.

Steve claps the other man on the shoulder, an ease is shared between them that is not unsimilar to you and Wanda. Steve adds, “James Buchanan. But we just call him Bucky.”

And Bucky nods, his eyes finally sliding over to you; his scent hits you at nearly the same time. Offbeat and pine, the sharp, cold smell of metal. There’s evergreen and winter, maybe the soft spice of juniper, the low cut of musk. It makes your eyes flutter, makes your head go soft and bleary with it.

“Pleasure to meet you both.” Wanda says and her voice refocuses you, her fingers skimming yours to ground you. You flit your eyes away, but can feel Bucky’s suddenly sink over you the way the red sun will drop below the hills.

You become keenly aware of your bare neck, hair pulled from your face and shoulders to reveal it to him. The cut of your dress suddenly seems both revealing and not revealing enough. Like it could constrict you, or maybe you’re showing too much skin.

“What brings you here?” You ask, perhaps a little cooly, eyes seeking out the horizon rather than them. Anything but him.

“Passing through. Looking for work for a few weeks.” Steve answers politely and his eyes glitter like the creek in the high summer. He’s pretty, you think, long lashes framing those eyes.

“Oh!” Wanda exclaims and she loops her arm through yours solidly, her body warm and soft beside you, “You’re in luck! She needs help running her farm!”

You almost choke. Throw Wanda a glare but she only meets you with that impish, precious smile you can’t stay mad at for very long.

“I don’t--” You try to protest.

“She does!” Wanda interjects, “Her father injured his knee awhile ago, been looking for someone to help out.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then perhaps Buck and I will have to stop by.” Steve says easily, a half amused grin tugging at his lips as he gazes between you and Wanda. Almost as if he’s endeared by your antics. You bristle.

“My father doesn’t take to newcomers very well.” You warn, as if that’ll scare these two Alphas away so easily after their little stunt with Rumlow. You worry that few things will scare these two off.

Regardless you don’t need them on your farm, don’t need them trying to help or care for you or order you around. It’s always been you, and no one will change that. You’re not about to let them treat you like some soft, little creature who should be inside baking them pies and fetching them water.

But you can feel Bucky’s eyes on your face still, as if he’s trying to burrow in there, make a home upon which he gazes.

You grow even tenser, teeth grinding. No home to find inside you; just the unruliness of nature, the ever-changing seasons, or unforgivable storms. The river that churns too fast, dives between the mountains and the forests, the sly, sharp-toothed fox.

You turn your nose up, “Besides,” You say, insolent and dry, “I don’t really need any help.”

“‘Course.” Steve agrees and you aren’t sure if it’s to placate you or if he’s genuine, “But if you’re looking for an extra pair of hands to order around, we’re your guys.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” You say, though decidedly won’t.

Daring yourself, you finally force your eyes to Bucky once more. His face is stern and closed off, reserved. He hasn’t spoken once, and stupidly, horribly, you long to hear his voice. You wonder what it sounds like, if it’s rough or smooth or everything at once. Does he speak loudly or softly? Will you have to lean in to hear him or will you step back at the crack of it?

And yet, he hasn’t needed it once yet. His presence, formidable and strong and raw, is enough.

You blink, look away just as he glances back at you. This strange game of cat and mouse with eyes is making your fingers twitch and tighten in your skirts.

“We should be off,” You tell Wanda, wishing to flee, to feel the wind on your face and Wanda’s body beside yours and the afternoon sun bursting on your skin.

Steve wishes the pair of you well, gentlemanly and sweet. Tips his hat with a boyish sort of grin that perhaps would leave other’s swooning.

And Bucky, gruffly, and with a sort of gentleness you aren’t expecting to find, says to you, “It was nice meeting you both.”

Something warm settles into your chest, sliding down like molasses, dripping into your stomach and core, spreading throughout you like it owns you; settles deep into you like it won’t leave, real deep into the marrow of your bones. And you inhale, breathe as if this is your first real breath in the whole of your life.

You find yourself replying, almost as softly, “It was nice to meet you, too.”

His lips twitch upwards in the barest hint of a smile, as if it’s the first time he’s smiled in a long, long time and he needs you to show him how again.

So you do, you give him your own smile that isn’t much bigger, but it’s much easier and sweet as honey, clever as a fox. Almost like you want him to chase you, follow that curve of your lips.

Wanda giggles, before pulling you away and back towards Clover to begin your adventure for the day, but you think you can feel the dark of his eyes on the back of your neck still, the line of your shoulders. It lingers, until you ride off into the heather hills with her and disappear on the gauzy horizon.

---

Wanda and you roll in the wild grass on the sloping hills. Laughing and chasing and playing like you’re girls again, half-savage and free and untempered. You tumble and shriek and hitch up your skirts, loosen your dresses and unbutton collars. The sun is a gold glow, warming the earth and your skin, shimmering dreamlike on the new green buds, the wheat yellow of the tall grass. You tip your face up to the sky eagerly, just as you let yourself flop back into the field, back hitting the ground that catches your fall, cradles you. Clouds pass overhead in cotton shapes, free and darling, and you’re still breathing a little hard from romping around with Wanda, feeling your heartbeat inside the cage of your chest. You feel flushed with life; ferocious and curious and excited.

Wanda drops down by your feet, before slowly, languidly crawling atop you. She straddles your waist, her skirts spilling out over the two of you. You sit up on your elbows, jostle and try to dislodge her a little with another round with warm laughter, but she holds fast, nails digging into your shoulders.

“I saw the way you were looking at Bucky.” She says and there’s too much mischief in her eyes, a clever glint that the sun turns amber and honey hazel.

You roll your eyes at her, but even the mention of his name on her lips makes something inside of you stir. But you indulge her, leveling her with an unamused gaze, “And how was that, Wanda?”

She leans over you, her fiery hair brushing your cheek, your shoulders. She fits herself closer, twines her arms around you all close and snug.

“Like you wanted to bare your throat to him right then and there.” She teases playfully, voice dipping into a warm, rumbling purr. Her nose drops, nuzzles lightly at the sensitive scent gland at your neck. It makes you squirm, your fingers tightening in the skirts of her dress.

You allow her so close, allow lips and teeth and nose into the dips of your body because she’s so familiar to you. A piece of your heart is firmly in her small, warm hands. It blurs the thin, unsteady line between you two, though. Scenting at the neck is usually romantic in some way; often times sexual. Comforting, when it needs to be, but you’ve laid so many times with Wanda, gotten so close and tangled together that you often find your nose at her throat, the nape of her neck, tucking your face into the crooks of her body and she to you. You know her like a lover, you think, sink into her body beneath the sun and the moon and the open skies that spread out before you both. As if the whole world opens for you two.

“Your scent got sweeter; milky lavender and dark jasmine.” Her lashes tickle your collar bones, her mouth warm and open against the skin there. It makes you flush deeply, sink into the earth beneath you, “Want him to bite you?” She jibes, flashes pearly teeth, her canine gleaming in that white sun.

“Wanda!” You yelp, shoving at her and she throws her head back and laughs, “No!” And you begin to wrestle with her once more, pushing her off and sending you both tumbling down another hill. You shriek and peel with laughter, pulling and grabbing at each other until you roll apart.

She gets on her hands and knees, feigns a growl from an Alpha in her throat, the kind that rumbles out from deep within them, but the sound is a little muted, and too light in her mouth. She suddenly pounces for you again, playful and light, sending you belly up and onto your back, though. “You want him to tackle you like this,” She torments, grabbing at your wrists as you try and squirm and fight with her.

With a grunt and all your strength, you roll her right onto her back now, hook your legs over her hips like she did.

“You want to simper and cry under him,” She says and this time her voice gets soft and breathy and pouty and she is good at that. Her back arches beneath you and you push at her more, tighten your hands around her wrists, shove them down to the ground, feel her heaving chest and trace the curve of her smiling lips and rose touched cheeks with eager eyes.

“I don’t!” You laugh, playfully bare your teeth at her and try and growl back the way she had. It’s better than hers, a little more bite to it, but it’s still too light and soft. She laughs with you at your attempt now, laughs and growls and yells with you until you’re both breathless because there is nothing and no one around to hear you but each other.

You howl and chase and fall into each other with giggles and wildflowers in your hair, get lost in her and the way the sun begins to fall from the sky and cast everything in a rosewood haze, slow and burning and beautiful.

She lays her cheek on your back when you ride Clover back to her home, and she kisses you goodnight, lips at the corner of yours. Promises to see you tomorrow.

And then you ride home, race fast and hard before the sun is swallowed by the moon, before the stars blink into existence and your father scolds you to all hell and back.

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

Home seems eerie with the darkness that creeps around its edges, night drawing out all the creeks and aches and splinters in the old house. All the memories pushed towards the back of your mind rush forward like skittering spiders. The last sliver of light sits on the horizon, fighting, railing against that inky sky as you get home.

And when you rush through the front door, shouting, “Pa, I’m home before the sun’s set!” You aren’t expecting to nearly run right into the broad chest of Steve Rogers.

You blink hard and he steadies you with a hushed, “Easy,” And his big hands on your shoulders.

You look up at him in disbelief, brows furrowing, quickly lurching away from him, only to realize Bucky stands to his right.

“What--” You start to snap, and this time your teeth are baring with aggression and irritation, gone is the lightness and playfulness you had with Wanda. Your eyes flash with the last cut of light that slashes through the old windows of your house.

“There’s my feral cat of a daughter, fellas.” Your father says and your head whirls to him.

He begins to introduce the three of you again, but you cut him off, “I met ‘em today, Pa.”

“Oh, good.” He says dryly, unappreciative of your tone. You force back a wince, know you’ll get scolded for that one. “They’ll be helping you out on the farm for a few weeks.”

You whip back to face Steve and Bucky, narrow your eyes at them, “Thought I told you both I don’t need any help?” You snap, unruly, wildflowers still caught in your hair that now slips free of what it’d been pulled back in earlier. You’re sure you look half-wild.

Steve holds up his hands as if he means no harm, palms up to you and you see they’re rough and calloused and scarred. Used, working hands. Hands that have seen a lot. You glance at Bucky, notice that one of his hands is gloved, the other free. You try not to stare, flit your eyes back to Steve.

“In our defense, we didn’t know this was your farm. We were sent this way after inquiring in town for work.” Steve says calmly, and then puts his hand over his heart, “Honest.”

You scoff lightly, turn back to your father, “I don’t need them, Pa.”

“No,” He agrees and pride swells in you, a small bubble of it for a heartbeat, “But they’d be a great help to you.”

There’s no amount of arguing or protesting that’s gonna change your father’s mind once it’s been set. He seems settled on this, content and confident. You try not to pout, try not to stamp your feet or snap or glare them right out of your house.

Final discussions are had; pay and what times they’ll arrive and leave. Your father, thankfully, warns them to listen to you, and if he finds differently, they’ll be kicked to the dirt as quickly as they’d gotten the job.

And then he warns them, quite frankly, to mind themselves around you and you can feel your cheeks deepen into crimson. Bucky and Steve dip their heads, though, say obedient and firm, yes sir’s, as if they expected it.

Your father finishes with, “Alright, then. You two start tomorrow.” And then he looks to you, “Walk them out, will you?”

You huff, but do so, walk them to the porch where the crickets and frogs have begun to chirp and croak and sing. The night crawls onward, the wind rattles this old house. A chill overcomes you, a little shudder. You think you can hear the far-off sound of baying coyotes, erie and high pitched in their frenzied yelping.

“Suppose I’ll see you both bright and early in the morning, then.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Suppose so.” Steve says, lowers his eyes a little, “I did mean it, we didn’t know this was your farm.”

You eye him, “Nothin’ I can do about it now, is there?” You counter, unwilling to give an inch, no matter how sweetly he looks at you with those darling, blue eyes. You’re sure that boyish charm works everywhere else, but you refuse to let it here.

He has the good sense to dip his head submissively, nodding slightly, “We’ll get out of your hair for the night then, let you rest. Goodnight, ma’am.” He says respectfully, before easing down off the old wood that protests beneath his heavy steps.

And for a heartbeat, it is only you and Bucky and the rattling tree branches and the croaking night. A moment frozen, as if you’d captured it in a bottle like a letter that you’ll throw into the sea. Just this sliver of time that makes the whole world stand still, as if it’s been waiting or fearing for your coming together.

You have nothing to say, but he inclines his head, holds your eyes like he’s holding the world in his arms, and murmurs all low and rumbling, “Goodnight, miss.”

Then turns his back on you, and hustles over to Steve, to their tethered horses.

And this time it’s you that watches him, eyes glued to his muscled back, the nape of his neck, as he eventually is swarmed by the darkened, reaching horizon.

---

You fall into bed, feeling strange and wary, a little weary, perhaps a little hopeful, too. For what, you don’t know. You can feel the wind changing, coming with new spring. But there’s something else, something heavier; the pressure is building, as if there’s a storm brewing. The kind of spring storm that bring destruction and clamor and the kind of rain that threatens to sweep you away in their flood and ferocity.

Your bed creeks, the shadows are tall and reaching in your room. The moon spills in, but instead of painting you with wonder or lovely, pearl light, it only makes the shadows that much darker. The night brings the cold, makes you pull tight and inwards. You curl up beneath your quilt, try and ward off all that presses in.

Eventually, you sleep.

And you dream.

You dream in visions of phantom grey and oil slick black, syrupy red, and flesh pink. You step lightly in a graveyard, the earth freshly turned and dark. Stones jut out from the ground like jagged, crooked teeth. It swallows you whole. The fog is thick and evasive, surrounding you and gathering around you, a train to your skirts that murmur and brush against stones and dirt and the hollowed out ground.

A grave with your father’s name grows from the earth, forces you to stop, stutter backwards. Your teeth begin chattering, the clanking of bone against bone. You can feel the whispers of wind, something so near. Your heart plummets as you read his name, as you see his grave, which you now see is besides your mother’s.

The ground trembles.

Their graves crack, splinter like a dropped glass, bursting outwards in a wave of skittering, flaming stone.

Frantically, you drop to your knees, try to put them all back together, as if that will somehow help. As if that will fix anything. You curse and cry and there are tears-- there are tears that drop onto burning stone. It sizzles and smokes but you can’t put them back together. You are alone, and you can’t.

Your hands begin to burn, flesh pink and blister white. Mud sucks at your legs and your knees and then you are sinking, sinking, sinking--

Oil drowns you, forces its way down your mouth and your throat and clogs your lungs. Seeps into every part of you. It’s invasive, forceful in it’s push and pull of you, it sucks at you and you are forced downward, kicking and screaming. Forced to swallow and take and be filled.

You twist, frantic. Try to fight back, but you are caught in the thick of it. It devours your screams and cries and pain.

And from above, there is a cut of silver, a star in the inky sky. A hand; metal and unnatural plunges in for you. And he pulls you clear out of the muck, the earth’s blood and into his arms.

When you emerge, it is as if you’re cleansed by the light. Gone is the slick oil, gone is the choking and drowning and thrashing. Bucky holds you to him now, crushes you to his chest where you can hear the live, thundering beat of his heart.

“I’ve got you,” He murmurs, cradling your skull as if it’s precious, something to be protected. Your nose is pushed to his neck and you--

You cling to him, swallow down clean gulps of spring air and the juniper bright and metal sharp smell of him. Pine, there is pine and evergreen, too. Clean and fresh and dipping into musk. Your heart slows, lulls, with his voice in your ear; that voice you’d so desperately wanted to hear.

You feel as if you’ve heard it your whole life now, as if you can’t imagine going another day without hearing it. And he says your name, not Omega, just your name. And he breathes and is warm and alive beneath you.

When you look around now, the earth is fertile and bright and warm. Spring damp roses and sweet, honeycomb sunshine. The fauna is in full bloom, an overabundance of life that leaves you inhaling the fragrant air. It’s so thick, almost cloying.

And there is no breeze, you think.

And Bucky’s lips are at your neck.

And there is a stirring in your stomach but its--

It’s all wrong.

He tries to lay you down. And you don’t protest because there’s something so tempting about it all, so safe, or so instinctual. There’s an ache and a burn and you want to shed your skin, you want to let him in and never let him out, bury his body in the ground with you. Become the earth and fertilize the flowers and feed the foxes you love so much. You wanna lie with him until the crow calls, until you’re nothing but him and you and the gem stones deep in the ground.

But when his face lifts from your vulnerable neck, it is not him.

Rumlow stares down at you, his scarred face so close and imploring. He croons Omega and you shriek, you try to get away, but it’s like the oil all over again; you trapped and thrashing and stuck. Rabbit in a snare. Fox in a trap. You scream, scream for Bucky or Wanda or even Steve or your father. You scream until it tapers off and burns into something ragged, shredding your voice.

He is just heavy atop you, and his face is morphing and shifting, like he’s a new creature altogether. Blackened eyes that are too wide, too large and there is a gaping whole where his mouth should be--

You claw at him, scratch with nails, pull at pink flesh and cartilage and bone until he starts dripping blood and saliva, growling like a rabid dog. You twist his face away so sharply, so horribly, that there is a sickening crack and then the full of him collapses atop you.

You squirm and you are crying, choked sobs because it feels like you are burning, or aching. Lonesome and longing or horrified and fearful of everyone. You want to be held in equal measures that you want to run away and never see another face again. You are torn, split in two and unraveling.

When you scramble away, deeper into the fragrant wild grass. You realize there is wetness, slick and warm and--

There is blood. So much blood coating your legs and it seeps through your skirts, stemming from between your legs. It pools beneath you, waters the flowers and seeps into the earth as if it belongs there.

You howl like an animal, fingers squabbling in the dirt and the blood and your body as if you can put yourself back together again--

You wake with a hard, sucking gasp. Blinking hard in the darkness. Your hands pull at your nightgown, shift to feel your skin, still warm and dry and clean beneath your heavy quilt. Reassuring, gulping breaths bring back cool air into your lungs. I’m safe, you tell yourself, it was just a dream.

But the night is still dark and the bed still creaks and the wind still howls, almost the way you had when you’d found all that blood-- No.

But now you’re just awake, in a lonely room. And there is no comfort, no warmth or forgiveness in the hollowness of it all.

You rise in the morning, heavy bags beneath your eyes, and begin your day in hopes of a better one.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #a/b/o verse #alpha/beta/omega au #cowboy au #bucky barnes fanfiction #alpha bucky barnes #omega reader

108 notes · View notes

officialstandardhumans · 3 years

Text

SH52: The Climate Crisis — What's Going On?

How many trees would you have to plant to offset your carbon footprint?

Which countries are environmental leaders? And which are laggards?

In this episode, the humans discuss environmentalism and sustainability. Looking at how humanity is doing globally, how Canada matches up to the rest of the world, and what you can do to help.

Standard Humans is hosted by Aidan Dennehy and Evan.

Shownotes:

Ceilo Farm Bed and Breakfast

This Is Your Brain on Pollution - Freakonomics Podcast Ep. 472

Carbon Neutral Goals by Country

Bhutan

Economic Freedom Index - Bhutan

Suriname

Country CO2 Emissions per Capita

List of countries by population

Economy of Trinidad and Tobago

Economy of Canada

How to Avoid a Climate Disaster: The Solutions We Have and the Breakthroughs We Need by Bill Gates

Carbon Footprint Calculator

Transcript:

[00:00:00] Evan: I think honestly, in Canada, and in the U.S., because we have so much exposure to nature around us, we take it for granted. Because we're like, I can drive out camping, like I did this weekend, two and a half hours in my gas powered car. And just hang out there and make a ton of garbage while I'm there and then throw it away. And then, it takes away the pressure to like actually make more sustainable sort of stuff.

[00:00:23] Evan: Yeah. Welcome back. It's been a little bit due to various working and cottaging. Maybe not more than normal. I don't know.

[00:00:33] Aidan: Actually, I was a little bit ahead before this, on the editing so that there hasn't been a delay yet. And we'll see what happens in the future.

[00:00:40] Evan: Well then hello listener after may be the normal amount of time.

[00:00:44] Evan: Much for you cottaging and for me, going around Gatineau has been done. How was the Cottage?

[00:00:50] Aidan: Cottage was excellent. The goats were fantastic.

[00:00:55] Evan: What?

[00:00:55] Aidan: Oh, yeah, it it was just a guest house on a farm, a little outside of Peterborough. And they had all sorts of animals. And we got like fresh eggs from chickens, maybe like 50, or a hundred meters away from the house.

[00:01:07] Evan: What is this place called?

[00:01:08] Aidan: It was an Airbnb, it was like Cielo farm or something like that.

[00:01:13] Evan: That's amazing.

[00:01:14] Aidan: Yeah, actually, it's a public listing. So like, why not just give them a little plug there? It was a great experience.

[00:01:21] Evan: Holy cow. That's that sounds like the most cricket and me place to ever exist.

[00:01:25] Aidan: It does actually, it's pretty chill. And it has a stupendous view because their house is like a little bit on a hill, like overlooking, just like big fields and farms.

[00:01:34] Aidan: Would recommend. I'll leave the link in the show notes.

[00:01:38] Evan: Yeah, these guys are going to be like, oh thank you. Because we got one new visitor and it was Evan.

[00:01:45] Aidan: Hey, that's the standard humans effect. When we check someone out who they go viral.

[00:01:52] Evan: Yeah. We're going to leave an Amazon link to buy the farm on Amazon. And so we get 10%.

[00:01:58] Aidan: Oh, that'd be great. I've heard that rural real estate agents make a killing. So like, if we can get a cut of that, like cool.

[00:02:04] Evan: Oh yeah. This is what the whole podcast is actually been about.

[00:02:08] Aidan: It's a play to get into rural and farm real estate.

[00:02:11] Evan: Sweet rural money,

[00:02:13] Aidan: Perfect. That's where the real cash is at, all those fools moving to the city.

[00:02:18] Evan: But that this is kind of related. Sorry, if somebody was excited, that's not actually what this one's about. This one is about environmentalist and, our individual role in it. If this seems pretty random, it started from a click hole, just like a Google hole or a Duck Duck Go hole.

[00:02:39] Aidan: Okay, thank you for elaborating on that. Wasn't quite sure what a click hole was.

[00:02:43] Evan: I don't know if I'm using that term actually correctly, but basically you just hear something and then you Google it and then you Google something related to that. And then you click on a link from there. And then it's just two hours just learning about those of random subject.

[00:02:57] Aidan: I'm familiar. It's both a great time and a can be a time suck.

[00:03:01] Evan: Because of that. I'm actually pretty well versed on the fino-russian winter war.

[00:03:05] Aidan: An excellent subject.

[00:03:07] Evan: No. So this one kind of starts with a story. So a week or two ago, I was, had to pretty chill work. Yeah at the gym because they're open again. So I've been able to go back. At the gym and then I was like, you know what, I'm going to do a little bit of a cool-down maybe walking a treadmill for like 10 minutes, 15 minutes. See what's up.

[00:03:27] Evan: And the treadmill was playing the news, which I never usually watch, but I was like, I don't want to bother with this, with the controls. I'll just watch it. And I'm all across the news there was that UN report that's like, we're all gonna die. That obviously isn't what it actually said, but it was the media has taken it very drastically. They're, they're very drastic about it, which honestly, I think is maybe a good thing.

[00:04:03] Aidan: Yeah, in terms of sparking action, that's probably a good thing. And it's also just the media's thing.

[00:04:08] Evan: Yeah, exactly. They just want you to click on it. And if it's, like the planet is going to explode, you're like, I'm going to click on that.

[00:04:14] Aidan: Not a bad headline. Maybe that's what we'll name this podcast.

[00:04:17] Evan: If this is worrying anyone the actual report, isn't actually that intense as the news is. It is interesting though. I've, I've checked out. Some of them haven't heard the whole thing cause it's really long. I've looked up more about it. But basically seeing that instantly gave me a stomach ache. And between that and the recent Ontario forest fires. How have you guys in Toronto gotten like smog from it?

[00:04:43] Aidan: Not that I've seen, but I'm going to be honest, I don't go outside every day. So.

[00:04:48] Evan: I guess I should rephrase it. Have you guys gotten more smog from it than your usual Toronto smog?

[00:04:54] Aidan: That is a good point. Not that I've noticed, I've been thinking I should check the air quality more often. Cause I don't really usually do that, but I haven't noticed any visible smog.

[00:05:05] Evan: I am not sure what you, what you do with that information. Maybe like, or a gas mask outside of them.

[00:05:11] Aidan: Or just go outside less often.

[00:05:12] Evan: Side note. I'm drinking to you right now. I hope that's not being picked up in my mic and just grossing everyone out.

[00:05:17] Aidan: I wasn't hearing it that you made some great like tea preparing noises at the beginning.

[00:05:22] Aidan: Lots of clicking and clanking and whatnot.

[00:05:25] Evan: Some new Japanese green tea I bought today. Very delicious. Um, But yeah, here in Ottawa or Kanata, I guess, we had a few days maybe seven in total, five to seven, somewhere where it was like, it was this weird layer of smog. And it was super freaky. And it was, from the forest fires, the air just coming from you know, the Northwest and coming down on us.

[00:05:49] Evan: But those things together. Yeah. That just gave me like an instant stomach ache. And I think with all these environmental issues. there are a few things going on, like obviously changes are being made at like the governmental level, but I think it is causing more and more people, more and more sort of mental freakout.

[00:06:08] Evan: Because we're hearing all these things, but on a personal level, with a problem that big, that's just basically like too much pollution. Most people like don't know what to do. And so that was that was my thinking. I was like, I want to do something, but I have to know what to do.

[00:06:24] Evan: What am I going to go drive up to the Northwest and pour a bucket of water on there? Maybe.

[00:06:28] Evan: So basically what I wanted to do here was find ways that one individual person could actually do something. I find there's a lot of, conflicting information too. Because it's like, oh, if you want to help the planet, you can go vegan.

[00:06:43] Evan: It's oh no, actually grains are destroying forests because of farmland. So you actually got to go paleo or go local. Or like, you should have an electric car. It's oh no, the batteries are super bad. You actually got to take the bus. So yeah, I just thought we could, first sort of go over some facts about Canada. Some of them I found very surprising in my research and then do the little carbon footprint quiz. But this is a more interesting one because it has some more concrete results at the end.

[00:07:15] Aidan: Ooh. That sounds very interesting, actually.

[00:07:18] Evan: Yeah. Basically, I'm just making what I wanted about two weeks ago. It's like what, what is actually going on and what can I do?

[00:07:27] Evan: Am I going to oversell my tea? Oh, wow. You know, It's coming out really slow. So you just keep pouring it into your cup because you think it's going to just like peter out, but then it just keeps going constantly, and you're like, ah.

[00:07:38] Evan: Anyway, so yeah, let's start with some Canada information.

[00:07:42] Aidan: Big prediction. Canada's doing shit with all its mining and whatnot, in terms of the environment and its goals.

[00:07:49] Evan: I'll just say, this this is on visual capitalist.com. I'm not saying this is like an infallible resource, but this data here matches up pretty closely. Like it's not like wildly inconsistent with all the other data I've found. It seems like generally okay. But the specifics might be contested.

[00:08:07] Evan: This is called the race to net zero carbon neutral goals by country. And, I came across this first because. A few months ago, China instituted a carbon cap and trade system nationally, which they'd never had anything like that before. Huge moves for the carbon in the atmosphere being gone. Actually not gone, that would suck. That would be pretty bad.

[00:08:29] Aidan: You need some carpet.

[00:08:30] Evan: Yeah. you need a little bit you need a normal amount. Not too much. Not too little. Otherwise the trees are like borough, but anyway, so that brought me here. And they have all the carbon neutral goals by country.

[00:08:43] Evan: And there's currently one country. Uh, hope you haven't looked. There's currently one country in the world that is pretty much by all accounts, carbon neutral or sorry, carbon negative. They actually absorb more carbon than they transmit. There's a couple of more that claim it. And it's possible, but it seems more dubious.

[00:09:03] Evan: But yeah. Do you know what that country is?

[00:09:06] Aidan: Yeah. Maybe send me the links after, cause I did glance through the article already. Unfortunately. Shout out to Bhutan for having both the best flag in the world and being carbon neutral or achieving their goals.

[00:09:17] Evan: Oh, the dragon?

[00:09:18] Aidan: Yeah. Love Bhutan.

[00:09:20] Evan: Yeah, me too. And they've got cool monasteries. Like what a place.

[00:09:24] Aidan: Yeah. What's not to love about Bhutan.

[00:09:26] Evan: Yeah. Bhutan is currently well, the only country that I've found, like pretty much every source saying is carbon negative. Another one mentioned is Surinam another one I've seen as well as Morocco.

[00:09:37] Aidan: Where is Suriname?

[00:09:39] Evan: It is the north east coast of south America

[00:09:43] Aidan: Ah, okay.

[00:09:44] Evan: And they speak Dutch they're, weirdly.

[00:09:47] Aidan: It's the Americas, man, this shit just happens. I don't know. Colonialism, am I right?

[00:09:52] Evan: So yeah, Butan is the one that I found pretty much every source agree upon is carbon negative. Pretty interestingly, they have super green energy. They have environmental protection laws designating that no less than 60% of their country has to be like undisturbed forest or undisturbed nature.

[00:10:10] Aidan: Oh, okay. That would help.

[00:10:13] Evan: Yeah. And they, they did it very early compared to other countries, basically they just put less of a pressure on modernizing and industrializing and more on sustainability, like earlier than a lot of other countries.

[00:10:24] Evan: And I think, if there's any country to learn from, for this sort of thing, it would be them. Granted it's a lot easier to do these things in a largely homogenous, smaller country than it would be in a, very diverse, larger country, like Canada, or even more so U.S. But there are definitely things that we could learn from them just about like prioritization and balancing business and the economy with the environment.

[00:10:48] Aidan: What even are their exports. I know nothing about them other than monks and the dragon.

[00:10:53] Evan: Well, One thing I know about them is that they have, I believe they have free energy. So they dissuade people from heating or cooling their homes with their own like gas stoves and whatnot. I guess you wouldn't call it with that, but like, or sorry, burning wood themselves. They have free energy. That's what I saw on some sites that I cannot verify.

[00:11:11] Aidan: After three years in the moderately free category Bhutan's economy fell back into the ranks of the mostly unfree this year. The government has a lot of tariffs and other restrictions on trade.

[00:11:21] Evan: The King? The have a King still

[00:11:23] Aidan: Oh, no, they, I transitioned from absolute monarchy to constitutional parliamentary democracy in 2008.

[00:11:31] Evan: Wow.

[00:11:31] Aidan: That's late

[00:11:33] Evan: That's really cool. Actually. What the heck. Places with Kings, I think it's so cool though.

[00:11:38] Aidan: An absolute monarchy until 2008.

[00:11:41] Evan: it's actually wild.

[00:11:42] Aidan: Reading what is this heritage.org article? It says Butan has one of the world's smallest and least developed economies, even late into the 20th century. The landlocked countries, largely agrarian with few roads, electricity and no modern hospitals.

[00:11:56] Evan: That I believe is both like a sort of a cause and an effect of their like, priorities or net carbon negativity, less focused on industrialization. It was ranked the happiest or one of the happiest countries in the world. So that's quite interesting.

[00:12:12] Aidan: But yeah, no. Definitely gets to your point that like, it would be easier for them, but that's also partly just because of their way of thinking or prioritization, as you said.

[00:12:23] Evan: And yeah, being smaller and more homogenous as well, does make things easier for that sort of thing.

[00:12:29] Aidan: It's easier when you have an absolute monarchy.

[00:12:31] Evan: Yeah. That's what I've learned. We need to get a king of Canada. To have absolute power. And then it's David Suzuki is the king surprise,

[00:12:40] Aidan: Anyways off that tangent. Thank you, Bhutan. Let's see, I guess now we know there's only one country with that carbon neutral or even negative status.

[00:12:52] Evan: the, yeah,

[00:12:53] Evan: Carbon negative is a thing that take in more than they expell.

[00:12:56] Aidan: Is that all because of all the trees they're able to take in?

[00:12:59] Evan: They have a lot of forest and yeah, relatively little mining oil and gas industry like that. Um, And not that densely populated. Probably more than Canada. But that's not hard.

[00:13:13] Evan: So once we heard about that, we see if the CO2 emissions of how it's net negative for some countries, well one to three countries, on worldometers.info, Uh, this is another site where the information like the actual numbers, maybe like contested, but the general gist is inline with the rest of the information I've seen. So for total CO2 emissions, do you want to guess which countries do the most total?

[00:13:47] Aidan: The most total CO2 emissions? And this is current? So like last couple of years or?

[00:13:53] Evan: Yeah, it's all a couple of years. Actually, it's 2016 for the total.

[00:13:56] Aidan: Okay. Because top one would have to be China. I know that they've used more concrete in last, like 10 years than the U S did in the whole like 20th century.

[00:14:07] Evan: Wow.

[00:14:08] Aidan: Yeah. Like They are building like mad.

[00:14:10] Evan: And they built the Hoover Dam.

[00:14:11] Aidan: Yeah. China would, I would say hard, like number one there. U S would definitely be up there.

[00:14:18] Evan: U.S. Is number two.

[00:14:19] Aidan: Ah, got them. And then next, India has a lot of people, but not that much, I'll say like industry or I shouldn't say industry what's the other word infrastructure. That's what I'm going for. So I would say they might be lower than like maybe other European countries, even though they're

[00:14:37] Evan: They are number three.

[00:14:39] Aidan: just the EU as a whole.

[00:14:41] Evan: No, No india.

[00:14:41] Aidan: Oh, India is number three. Interesting okay.

[00:14:44] Evan: Relative to the population, they have relatively little infrastructure, but when you're, when you're dealing with a continent's worth of people in one country, you're still going to have fricking load.

[00:14:56] Aidan: Good on them. I mean like that, it's a sign, I guess, a lot of ways of developing and people coming out of extreme poverty. Which is nice. I mean, Hopefully going forwards, we'll figure out ways to have that those not be tied together,

[00:15:08] Evan: That's the main thing. Because when a country's poor, you can't really ask people to like put sustainable uh, growth over like, will your family eat this week?

[00:15:19] Evan: well, We could make a shit ton of money and like, have, the general population, like be much more healthy and well fed. If we like sell all this oil we have. Or we could

[00:15:30] Evan: like put more priority on sustainability. Like you'll never get elected that way. Cause people are like, I want to eat.

[00:15:36] Aidan: I don't know, There's a whole double standard in there too of all the developed countries went through the phase of developing and they put out all sorts of CO2 just in getting to the point or the quality of life we have now, then we're saying to everyone else, it's like, no, no, but you can't do that because you have too many people and if you did that would just mess up the entire planet.

[00:15:56] Evan: Yeah, exactly. Hopefully just more sustainable ways of developing. Well, That's what has to happen.

[00:16:02] Aidan: Yeah, there was a lot of interesting stuff on that in Bill Gates' book. He lays out all of the big categories or he did lay out all the big categories that CO2 comes from and where we are right now on all. Whether we need like new innovations or just new policies or whatnot was a very good read. You'd probably enjoy.

[00:16:20] Evan: Yeah, I'm sure I would actually, and related to like where we are now, for most, or for a lot of north America and almost all of Europe The CO2 emissions actually have already peaked and are on the down now. But again, it's because they're pretty much done developing.

[00:16:35] Aidan: Yeah, we don't have too many more buildings to build. Or like we do, but like it's a small amount.

[00:16:43] Evan: Um, And then when people yeah, have guaranteed food and shelter, then there'll be like, then they might actually choose to do sustainable things or to make sustainable, like environmentally sustainable choices over gain an income because they don't need it as bad.

[00:16:57] Evan: But yeah, I'll just read the top 10.

[00:17:01] Aidan: Wait, I'm going to guess Canada isn't on the top 10.

[00:17:06] Evan: I'm just total emissions. Like not per capita. Just per country?

[00:17:09] Aidan: Per country, yeah, I'm going to say maybe top 20, but not top 10.

[00:17:13] Evan: Canada is top 10.

[00:17:15] Aidan: Oh, no Canada.

[00:17:17] Evan: But yes, it's China with 10 billion CO2 emissions. That's tons for that year. And then us has half that at 5 billion. China has half that at 2.5 billion. Russia has 1.6. So Russia is number four, Japan. Number five, Germany number six, Canada number seven, Iran eight South Korea nine and Indonesia 10.

[00:17:38] Aidan: What was Canada's gross?

[00:17:40] Evan: Yeah, just total was 675 million tons.

[00:17:44] Aidan: Okay. That is actually very in line with per capita, with the U S which I guess makes sense. Very similar lifestyles.

[00:17:51] Evan: Yeah. I initially was like, okay, Canada's got so few people, we can't possibly be in the top 10 like for total emissions, but we totally are. And it's I think like, honestly, Canada and the us are like some of the least sustainable lifestyles kind of out there.

[00:18:09] Evan: One thing, yeah, one thing I really don't like about a lot of Canada, that's kind of unavoidable with just the population density and stuff. Well, It's not unavoidable is that you have there's a lot of pressure to drive everywhere, super car based society.

[00:18:22] Aidan: Yeah, there are pockets where you don't. I don't own a car because I live in Toronto, which is real nice. And I enjoy it. Like I prefer not to drive, so it's cool. But if I'm ever outside of, I'm going to say like maybe Toronto, Vancouver, Montreal, you probably need a car.

[00:18:39] Evan: And now that Ottawa has a train.

[00:18:41] Aidan: You've got to train. Is it working now?

[00:18:42] Evan: It's working now? I took it today.

[00:18:45] Aidan: They've got the doors figured out?

[00:18:46] Evan: Maybe I took it today and I was fine. Ottawa, I would say you can get by without a car. I would say Kanata is the farthest you can live and get by without a car. If you live any of the like, Stittsville like anywhere more on the outskirts, you definitely need a car. But uh, even if people live downtown, a lot of people, just because that's what is the norm for us.

[00:19:07] Evan: Even if you can easily get places by train and bus, a lot of people will just drive anyway, because it's just ingrained in us. If you want to go somewhere, you've got to drive. Or even a lot of people if they live like a 15 minutes walk from a grocery store because of we got like the Costco model where you just get a ton of shit, like once a week or once every two weeks you drive two minutes and get there and just load it, load up your minivan and drive back.

[00:19:31] Evan: It's too bad, but I think for stuff like that, it can't really be relied on like for each person to make an individual choice to be like, I'm going to walk, I'm going to take the bus. I think it has to be infrastructure, like increase amount of buses, make buses electric. Instead of giant block of houses, giant block of stores, maybe more like, in a lot of the rest of the world, it's just house have store house has store.

[00:19:54] Aidan: Very walkable community. You can get to every place that you need to go by walk.

[00:19:59] Evan: Walk in public transport centered sort of places. yeah, when I was staying in France, this is just a product of, because it's a very old city. It was, it would be like hugely impractical to drive most places because driving so annoying, like the streets are tiny, you can't park anywhere and you wouldn't ever need to.

[00:20:17] Evan: Cause there's a butcher, a bakery, a grocery store, like a liquor store, like a bar restaurant within like three blocks. It's pretty much anywhere. Or like within, let's say max, like 20 to 30, 30 minutes walk. So I think, I think aiming towards That sort of model would be much more sustainable.

[00:20:38] Evan: Another thing is because we have a very large fossil fuel oil and gas industry still, and a statistic I heard this is not verified, but what I heard was that the U.S. Gets more oil actually from Canada than Saudi Arabia.

[00:20:53] Aidan: That is odd. Yeah. I guess we are much closer, so it'd be cheaper to transport, though, cargo ships are pretty cheap way to transport anything.

[00:21:02] Evan: And we're just a big country. I think honestly, in Canada, and in the us, because we have so much exposure to nature around us. We take it for granted, because we're like, I can drive out camping. Like I did this weekend, two and a half hours in my gas powered car. And just hang out there and make a ton of garbage while I'm there and then throw it away. And then, it takes away the pressure to like actually make more sustainable sort of stuff.

[00:21:27] Evan: So basically why I think that we're so high CO2 in Canada because everybody drives everywhere because there's not as much infrastructure to not. And because of our industry. But now let's go CO2 emissions per capita.

[00:21:43] Aidan: Yeah, I was going to say, our per capita is going to be off the charts. Cause I looked up the like countries by population on Wikipedia. And we're like 37th in terms of total population. And you said we're seventh in terms of total emissions.

[00:21:56] Evan: This is interesting, actually. So obviously, yeah, with China and India are in the top three, obviously they're going to be much lower for per capita because they're playing in the billions. We're not even playing in the a hundred million, so we're not even playing at half a hundred million.

[00:22:14] Aidan: Are we like top

[00:22:15] Evan: We, we are still top 10 per capita. This was actually really interesting. So for CO2 emissions per capita, the number one, this, I guess isn't that surprising Is Qatar. With 37 tons per person per year of CO2 emissions. Uh, And then this one was a bit surprising Montenegro after that.

[00:22:33] Aidan: Is that one of those like micronations

[00:22:36] Evan: Yeah.

[00:22:37] Aidan: is that one of the ones that's all like billionaires with their like yachts and jets?

[00:22:41] Evan: Maybe it's because everybody has Ferrari's that they tried better or I dunno, or everyone has a yachts that are like gas-powered I dunno.

[00:22:49] Aidan: I guess. Yeah.

[00:22:50] Evan: Montenegro, Kuwait. Not that surprising. And then number four is super surprising to me. Like, I to me. Like, I don't understand this at all. Trinidad and Tobago with twenty-five tons per capita. Like them, I don't know if they have a giant oil and gas industry or? All the Arabian peninsula countries to me makes total sense. Cause like huge oil industry. Like you got all the other rich dudes right in their g wagons. Like I get that. It's hot. Everybody's blasting the AC, makes sense. But Montenegro in Trinidad and Tobago, I'm like what? I don't understand.

[00:23:29] Aidan: Apparently it's the wealthiest country pretty much in the Caribbean.

[00:23:34] Evan: Oh well, I have been there. It's lovely.

[00:23:36] Aidan: Yeah. And the fifth largest by GDP in the Americas, at least like their economy, but. Ah, it's the leading Caribbean producer of oil and gas. Its economy is heavily dependent upon these resources, but it also supplies, manufactured goods, notably foods and beverages, as well as cement to the Caribbean region. Oh, that'd be big.

[00:23:57] Evan: Okay, this makes a lot of sense. Cause I was, I was really confused by that one.

[00:24:02] Aidan: Yeah. That's like oil and gas is 40% of their GDP and 80% of export. But only 5% of employment, which is interesting. That might be a lot of foreign contractors or something going on there.

[00:24:14] Evan: There is a decent amount of income inequality. Then, so on number five, the UAE United Arab Emirates makes sense. After that Oman, again makes sense. And then Canada, we're at number seven. At 18.5 tons per person per year CO2 emissions.

[00:24:34] Evan: And honestly, it seems like all of these so far. These are pretty much having been to only one of the other ones from what I've heard are all mainly car based nations and uh, whatnot, but it seems like a lot of it is just mainly to do with an oil and gas industry.

[00:24:53] Aidan: That seems to be a common thread through all of them. Like including Canada, like we're probably, I would guess the least dependent or that would be the smallest, like piece of the pie.

[00:25:03] Evan: I would guess for the least dependent, because I'm not coming from the prairie's here. I'm not coming from Berta.

[00:25:11] Aidan: Yeah, we've got such a large country that like, it really depends on where you are. Like this wikipedia article is saying that logging and energy industries are two of our most important. And we also have a big manufacturing center with automobiles, and aircraft's being really big. And we also have a big like seafood industry as well as just like software and entertainment.

[00:25:35] Evan: We just do everything at a smaller scale than the states, except for actually, except for the naturalism. We do that kind of bigger.

[00:25:43] Aidan: Define naturalism.

[00:25:44] Evan: Like trees, rocks, water. Got a lot of trees and rocks and water here. But then yeah. So rounding out the top 10, I Brunei, Luxenberg and Bahrain. Brunei has a Sultan. That's a cool fact about Brunei.

[00:26:00] Aidan: That's interesting, actually I assumed Luxembourg was all like bankers. Is that just their lifestyle?

[00:26:07] Evan: I assume it's lifestyle. Cause everyone's very well off. So maybe everyone's got a ton of cars and like there's no buses cause everyone's rich. So they'd just drive everywhere.

[00:26:15] Aidan: Okay. Actually, I'm looking at the little, like breakdown of Canada's. I think this is GDP. Yeah. In 2017 and gas and oil is the biggest. I'm going to take a hot guests and say all these little numbers add up to like 25.

[00:26:29] Evan: Okay. That's still, I that's a lot. Luckily, not as high as a lot of other countries above us, but yeah, so Canada is quite high for our CO2 emissions per capita among the rest of the world. We hear in Canada all about like, oh, China's making all these emissions. India is making all this emissions and pollution. We got to remember that for per capita, we're doing way worse than them.

[00:26:54] Evan: Let's scroll down here. I'm scrolling down. I'm trying to find either China or India and. China. Okay. yeah, China's around 41. Interestingly, actually, the us is not in the top 10. I think it's because they don't have much of an oil and gas industry.

[00:27:11] Evan: And India, I'm scrolling. um, Let's keep going. Alright. I've scrolled very far. Past 50 and I've given up,

[00:27:21] Aidan: India is just not on the list in terms of per capita.

[00:27:24] Evan: Very low emissions per capita. That's something to remember. I think that initially I was like, oh no, Canada is so bad, but now I'm like, That's a good thing. If we're such a big player in like total emissions and like emissions, both total emissions and emissions per capita in the world, then you know, that's something actually that we can in some way affect, either through voting or like whatever or their actions just because like we live here.

[00:27:52] Evan: So that's actually quite reassuring that if I just, have, make some change to you know, the emissions and the policies of my country, then that actually will have a pretty large effect on that greater world.

[00:28:02] Aidan: That's actually interesting too. I just noticed that out of the top 10, we are the smallest population.

[00:28:08] Evan: Wait,

[00:28:08] Evan: Wait, Montenegro and Luxembourg?

[00:28:11] Aidan: Sorry. I was looking at the total list. Total CO2 emission.

[00:28:14] Evan: Oh yeah. So I guess, so we have the largest population.

[00:28:18] Aidan: Out of per capita maybe, but we have the smallest out of the total emissions. So meaning that all the countries ahead of us and like behind us for a bit have much larger populations and less like much lower per capita than us. So it's was just emphasizing here, we can really play a role.

[00:28:34] Evan: There's a lot of stuff that we can do, which is actually yeah, reassuring.

[00:28:38] Evan: The last thing I sent You I might've sent you my results by accident, but conservation.org. Again, I don't have any affiliation with this website. It is not gospel. It's just an interesting thing I found, but it, just it was sort of interesting to me. And so what we're going to do is calculate our footprint.

[00:28:59] Aidan: Let's do it. So this is a website that basically you tell them some like demographic and some other things about yourself and like, I guess your activities like your transportation and travel, yada, yada, and then they tell you what your carbon footprint is.

[00:29:14] Evan: Yeah, exactly. So I thought we'd, read that I can see. And then after this something to do as well. We'll get to that after.

[00:29:21] Evan: Have you got the like household transportation and travel thing?

[00:29:24] Aidan: Yes, I do.

[00:29:25] Evan: Okay. Cool.

[00:29:26] Aidan: Okay. I'm here to just got my footprint calculated.

[00:29:30] Evan: Okay. What is yours?

[00:29:32] Aidan: Your footprint is 12.69 tons.

[00:29:36] Evan: Oh, mine's 13.41. So I'm slightly more.

[00:29:40] Aidan: Evan you monster. Why do you hate the environment?

[00:29:43] Evan: it It says it takes 192 trees to offset your annual footprint.

[00:29:48] Aidan: Yeah, mine saying it takes me 181.

[00:29:53] Evan: What I found really interesting was the offset option here. I do not know where that money goes. It says you, you can offset your carbon footprint by like buying It's a, it's a tax deductible donation. I don't know where it goes. So I need to do research on that. See if it's legit or not.

[00:30:10] Evan: But then 192 trees, I found that really interesting. Cause I'm like, I can do that. I can responsible for probably 10 times that this year people who plant trees say they can do more than that in like a day.

[00:30:22] Evan: What I want to do is be responsible somehow either by planting them, myself, or donating to tree planting or otherwise, I want it to be responsible for what at least 192 trees planted this year.

[00:30:34] Aidan: That is a cool goal, yeah, that actually just off sets your carbon footprint.

[00:30:39] Evan: And in the bottom it says some things you can do. Oh, and like where the U.S. average is for like energy consumption or carbon, actually carbon emission. And it looks like the highest is just your house, which I find very interesting.

[00:30:52] Aidan: That is. Yeah. So what is it about here house that changes, because we just said like how size basically a number of people.

[00:31:02] Evan: I think it would be heating and cooling would be a large one as well as lights. And just how much space you have that is not forest.

[00:31:12] Evan: And they have some tips in the bottom like: meatless Mondays, fly direct. I think these are the same for everybody. I don't think that tailored for our results. Cause it says take the bus and improve your fuel economy. When I said I don't drive and I take the bus often. But these are some interesting, interesting things.

[00:31:29] Evan: But yeah, so the, my main takeaway from this is I want to, I want to be responsible for around 200 trees. Like I'd like to plant them myself, ideally. Cause I feel like I could do that in a long weekend, 200 trees. But if not, find some way to be responsible for that.

[00:31:44] Evan: And so I hope everyone uh, checks out some info like that about themselves. Maybe you just gets a scale of like where you live, what's the situation, you know, what can you do? How much are you responsible for yourself? And I hope this helps maybe ease some people's anxieties about the sort of stuff.

[00:32:00] Evan: But yeah. That's my main takeaway there. Maybe we should update later in the year, on what our takeaways from this.

[00:32:07] Aidan: Possibly. Yeah. And how many trees you've planted.

[00:32:11] Evan: And the other main purpose of this listener, I hope it inspires you to get involved where you live and just, get informed to get the information uh, about the sort of stuff as it pertains to you.

[00:32:21] Aidan: That is interesting. Yeah, because as we mentioned, Canada has a big opportunity to step up here. And I think the vast majority of our listenership is Canadian. So.

[00:32:32] Evan: Yeah, and I think also most Canadians think we're actually probably one of the more environmentally friendly countries.

[00:32:40] Aidan: Because you can just be like, look at the U S they're doing terrible. We were obviously doing great.

[00:32:46] Evan: And you'd be looking at many forests we have. Look at all that we can't be that bad.

[00:32:50] Aidan: Yeah. But they're all on fire. They're about to leave.

[00:32:53] Evan: And listener, to get involved and inform yourself.

0 notes

boylesharon · 4 years

Text

How To Get Rid Of Cat Spraying Smell Stunning Cool Ideas

Places you missed or don't do that, stick with it has a large removable lid for ease and a hole in the family.Even though I was quickly able to explore the house.Many health problems as soon as she was lonely when I would immediately disregard the water circulating which makes the water and the stain is dry.Sterilization tends to get back or that they'd climb over the years and to keep your cat scratch your furniture from scratching.

Such repellant is available at per supply stores.By holding and massaging or stroking your cat to successfully adjust their behavior.Now that there are various homemade recipes that do a good idea to visit your local pet store.Especially if you want to avoid this type of cat scratch where you stay.However, if you have the great stare down for a few days so that was involved.

Moreover, it gives them some pretty neat tricks, from sit and relax.I had used it correctly for a severe flare-up.This can be an expert in animal hospital to save her life as soon as it is too late.Naturally, the smart way to convey territorial and sexual messages to the litter tray you buy one of these designs used in homes, on farms, and in households with more than a reaction from the coat with toxic substances or astringents.An allergy may be the best way to completely eradicate the stain and odor.

One should use a little painful for your cat is only cruel when abused.Positive reinforcement is the safety factor.They do not get rid of the time to trim their nails may never want to lessen your cleaning chores and keep your furniture can be used topically.Itching may be a gentle nip and a narrow one for ten dollars at Wal-mart.Scrub the floor next to it in its paws on the leaves of the tray.

Your cat will find that a bored cat will prefer a high-sided box, while others had to struggle for food, either as a scratching post.If a new baby or the sneezing is the most natural instincts are to you.You need to clean cat urine is that your cat does not need to heat it up for adoption.Attempting to punish your cat but his presonality towards her own smell and taste of fish, which cats tend to be eliminated immediately to prevent boredom.By respecting these boundaries, they avoid unnecessary stress.

Stow excess lengths of brushing the cat's hair or press too hard on their own food and water each day.All you have a lack of toilet training a cat.If your cat with the cat licks itself, the fur and dander itself is not too fine, because than it should.Perhaps you only scoop out your cats or on your lawn.Litter box is clean, it's possible that one tries to move away from the front door all of the herb will make the cat to start while the cat food budget since they started using the litter box that has been disciplined for scratching and clawing at it.

Sometimes it helps to reduce the severity of the tray.They are more likely to contract or develop cancers, Which in turn leads to the same word, not stop using products around the house?Putting an End to the treat, which reinforces the behavior of a cute cats collar which can be discouraged.It destroys the cat urine glowing in the home indiscriminately, put its box with little effort and waste.If you notice your cat something to scratch only on their backs, rubbing against everything they believe is in their garden.

Fresh litter can be used to their neighborhoods is best to place the litter box once they start to act as a toilet.Cat flea treatment may not have a warm comfortable cat bed.They are more cats into a lot of waste that is making them share their home, they will be living with us, all from shelters and rescue organizations every day when Ben was cutting up cold chicken, my cat Twinkie, who was sound asleep in the litter box, it could be overly soiled for the cats need to learn how to discipline cats and your cat to go.As with children, stick to the vet immediately as neither of these could just be sure to talk with your cat scratch?Usually, owners signed documents promising to have your cat's claws trimmed at the age of 4-5 weeks old kittens.

Cat Urine In Car

All cats, even indoor only cats, should wear a collar then a microchip opening cat door so he cannot access his litter box and how to spot trouble and playing fetch but with out the front door for a reward for any unusual lumps, abscesses, scratches or parasites such as moth repellents that will give him a great tool for diagnosing asthma in cats is to get used to the treats, and stamp the cats instinctive need to follow some basic preparations you'll need to get them off of the kidneys are responsible for them, and they create a bond that enhances your relationship with your palm.Step #1 - Close curtains or furniture with the paper bag is also more likely to get rid of the furniture before using it and feel it!You also need to know more about them and it is because you just can't seem to be understood but in this manner when you're out of the cats indoor environment more interesting by building an activity center or indoor gymnasium out of ponds and shallow streams with their cat as much of your pets.Don't yell or try painting your fence should be brushed daily.Ticks can also consider adopting litter-mates and chances are you getting frustrated with a squirt of water

I remember one such instance that one way to get you angry.4 raw egg yolks or 2 cups of liquid waste the cat sprayed or neutered?The first thing we did to overcome the bad smell.Putting their food and litter bags, and it only takes one flea can leave many eggs and larvae; fleas breed best in humid conditions so drying out of the tail.Cats will avoid the cat's sebaceous glands.

What do you prevent a cat out is down to a cat's urinary problems, some training will be fewer.Although kitty is scratching and again to clean it extra thoroughly.This should be an adequate scratching post, but if your cat meows she is spraying and neutering.Remember though, never punish your cat is happy or scared.You can get in the form of a tray filled with beads that make a number of symptoms such as your eating time so she will typically be the case.

Dogs should be like someone hitting you on your cat.In the wild, however, it is completely safe for children and pets give happiness to the vet because there is more expensive.Commercial animal food contains important nutrients required for every three weeks and can be a false economy as when cats are loving companions, although for their shots the vet can determine whether or not remains to be your companion.The easiest solution is not for everyone.One of the fireplace, so long as the previous one.

Here are twelve simple, cheap, and effective ways to make the locations where you stay.You can find many products in an effort to achieve this.When you do not want to venture outdoors; they're quite contented snuggling up in an emergency.In most cases and help prepare your own cat enclosure.Many times, a cat without claws is grooming.

You will not be compared to what your cat like to opt for the new doors.The crystals are insoluble, and they will do this as a cat the lesson that all of the most popular breeds that do not have any doubts, you should not be able to diagnose inhalant allergies.Some people have to keep the noise of the carrier with a towel.Letting you cat is to take it to startle them and it is important to ensure the health of the time to adjust to its noise, but enjoys classical music.Cats use their litter box in the cat's nails which is false.

Cat Urine Remover

Even before your notice that the number and type are a number of years and definitely show signs of illness or a dog, nevertheless they can eat, sleep and stand on as mature members of the day and noticed how many cats who were adopted but still not ideal as your cat has gone a way of marking their territories.The most effective products that can be detrimental is the best ways to treat the offending area.There is a method that you're not home, only give you a dog or cat gyms.Not only once did I hear about cat behavior.Cleaning cat urine cleaners that available in a nice padded bed.

It can in reality they are shaped similar to cat urine.Male cats have their own entertainment and that is unfamiliar and potentially threatening - remember cats are left uncontrolled can lead to other cats, but not a game and a carpet cleaner with a paper towel or paper.Accommodating the cat enjoy it and you will need to find them or clap your hands and knees.When your cat can not solve the nibbling problem.Only by matching your cat's messes is never use a litter with something bad and subject to Urinary Infection.

#How To Get Rid Of Cat Spraying Smell Stunning Cool Ideas #Can My Cat Still Spray After Being Neutered

0 notes

self-loving-vampire · 4 years

Link

I was only young when I played Ultima VII but I had already ventured to the depths of dungeons that dripped with dread, partaken in interstellar war and defended my home planet from invaders. Like Roy Batty and all people who grew up with games, I had seen and done so much. Between adventures in space, I’d rezone my commercial districts or build a new bus route, leaving room in the schedules for occasional postal service functions. Yes, I had lived a full life already, but I had never watched a man clad in the finest clothes in Britain eat an egg and then belch in the face of a barmaid, so who can say I had experienced anything worthwhile at all?

Gaming had certainly made me a busy boy, often alternating between saviour and mayor, but sometimes it was hard to shake the feeling that I was a busy boy working away in a collection of somnolent worlds. So often, no matter how much I enjoyed my progress through a game, I couldn’t help but feel I was moving through something static and linear. I didn’t (and still don’t) object to that but as the games I played began to increase in visual complexity, their crude borders only seemed more obvious than before and their inhabitants’ lack of life more acute.

That feeling isn’t a relic, it persists today. Stand in the middle of a junction in Liberty City and it’s possible to feel a connection with the place. Pedestrians, cars, overheard conversations, the dropped coffee and stumble of a jostled passerby. Turn to an empty street though, glance to the side, then back again. Often enough, rows of vehicles will have appeared, like flowers from a magician’s sleeve, a trick that garishly announces, ‘this is illusion’, demanding your attention because the player is not always a protagonist. Often, the player is the audience.

I get it. I understand why. But sometimes I don’t want to be the audience, the centre around which the world revolves and at which events are directed. Sometimes I want to be a participant. That’s something that multiplayer games allow but they are rarely about exploration and existence, concentrating instead on competition and destruction. Online roleplaying games should be the perfect antidote but the structure of the majority reverts to treating each player as a hero in his own story. Quests and plots are usually directed at the player, to be activated at will, rather than being happenings in a wider context.

We’re going back to a time long before that was even a possibility though. Playing games with strangers in other countries? We were lucky if our modems didn’t squawk themselves into a death spiral whenever we connected to the local BBS to talk about games. The idea of actually playing them with someone who wasn’t located in the same building was more exciting than watching Flight of the Navigator for the seventieth time.

Ultima VII was the first game I played that made me feel I was part of a world that didn’t revolve around me and I believe it remains one of the best examples of its type. It’s an RPG that starts with a murder investigation rather than a dungeon crawl and that immediately marked it out. My first goal in Britannia was to talk to people, find out what made them tick and work out just what the heck was going on. While I was doing this, those people would work, eat and sleep. They were trying to get on with their lives and I was the irritating do-gooder poking my nose into their business.

It was only when I headed north to the capital that I really became convinced I was experiencing something completely new though. Travelling through marshes and farms, I was attacked by wild animals and monsters. But it wasn’t a gambit designed to allow me to level up; these were hungry wolves out for the kill rather than piñatas full of experience points and loot. Sometimes, if they were badly injured, they would try to flee, leaving a trail of blood. Their mark on the world.

Arrival in Britain was like entering a metropolis for the first time. Shops, taverns, a museum, the castle, crowds of people in the streets and businesses. There was nothing else like it. Of course, I look back on it now and realise that there were about four streets, one of each type of shop and just enough people to fulfill basic functions. But that doesn’t matter because here are some of the awesome things that I did.

I visited a bakery to buy some fresh bread because I felt me and my companions had been living on stale rations too long, having slept on a bedroll for two nights in a row. It was time to treat the whole party to a bit of the high life. While we were there, I learned how to bake by watching the process carried out by an NPC. Flour from a sack, onto a counter top, water added, rolled into dough, placed in an oven, left to bake, removed, voila! I think that’s all the steps. I’m not going to look it up. The memory is too good as it stands.

When does that happen? When was the last time you played a game and inadvertently learned how to create a useful object in the world simply by watching a character perform the steps to craft it? In fact, there’s that term: ‘crafting’. Ultima VII didn’t claim to have ‘crafting’, it just figured that if you had all the right ingredients, why the heck wouldn’t you be able to bake a loaf of bread?

After learning to bake, I learned to make clothes. More crafting that wasn’t crafting, just interacting with the world. Ultima VII was like the Duke Nukem 3D of RPGs, except it wasn’t about taking a leak, turning out a light and then smashing everything in sight, it was about rearranging the books on a shelf or making a dress for one of your companions and gifting it to her, not in the hope that it would provide enough points to unlock a glass-eyed sexytime cutscene but because it felt like the right thing to do.

I also went to the pub a lot. The Blue Boar, specifically, which is still the finest drinking establishment in all gaming and I am willing to get into a barfight about that. With live music nightly, speedy service and an extensive menu of delicacies, there’s no better way to while away the hours.

In fact, it’s at The Blue Boar that everything came together. Not at the Black Gate or in some grotty underground cave; right there, sitting with my friends on either side and a drunk shopkeeper opposite. As the evening turns to night the place really fills up. There’s the baker, who I learned a new trade from earlier, he’s arrived just in time to grab a plate of meat and potatoes, and trade jokes with his mates. And there, over in the corner on his own, that’s the tailor, downing tankard after tankard. Business must be very good. Or very bad.

I could sit in The Blue Boar for ages, making up stories for all the patrons, knowing that I’d be able to track them down the next day. They weren’t spawned at the doors, forced into existence so that the pub would feel like a pub and them snuffed out of existence as they left, they were the same people who would be walking the streets the next day and selling me goods.

And there was always at least one among them, could have been anyone, who would order an egg. It’d just arrive, plonked down in front of them unceremoniously, a massive plate with a single egg in the middle of it. Even though it didn’t matter that they were eating an egg, in that it wouldn’t have any effect on their social standing or health, it really did matter because it never failed to make me smile.

Which poor bastard is on the eggs tonight, I’d think, watching as sweetmeats from every corner of the world were laid out in front of the gathering. And then, BAM, there it would be. Egg on a plate. No cress. No mayo. The purchaser wolfing it down, hoping no one had noticed, trying to hide their shame.

Then people would stand up, say their goodbyes and leave. Closing time. And time for me to find a bed for the night or, more likely, to trudge back into the wilds looking for some fresh adventure. I’d always be back though, to The Blue Boar, because it felt like a haven. I had friends there, and warmth and food, I was part of something. I was no longer the audience, I was an actor sharing a stage.

Britannia wasn’t very large compared to more recent game worlds or the ludicrousness of Daggerfall but it did have variety and it felt like a place full of life. In a way that made me more eager to protect it but it also made me far more willing to become part of that life. I had to force myself to deliver the promise I held as the Avatar because I’d rather have been one of the ordinary folks. Hunting and drinking, dining and dancing. Ultima is all about the Virtues and one of the greatest virtues of this most excellent entry in the series was its ability to make being a hero so hard. Not because of high-powered enemies and ridiculous grind, but because it offered a world full of distractions instead of arrows pointing to the bad guys.

What other RPG could I write this much about without talking about stats, levelling, equipment and combat? I haven’t even talked about plot except in the vaguest terms. But I have talked about stories, and while they may not involve death knights and ancient artifacts, they’re the ones I remember best.

More than anything, Ultima VII was the game that first made me realise I preferred worlds that moved around me rather than worlds that I simply moved through. The way that worlds come alive for me can be in the history-changing sweep of a grand strategy game or something as simple as the addition of day-night cycles. It can be an attempt to simulate an ecosystem or something as simple as enemies actually dropping the equipment I can see they were carrying seconds before they crumpled to the ground. It all adds to the sense of existing in a world, which adds to my enjoyment of creating narrative in that world. And Ultima VII was one of the places that form of creativity first sparked for me.

#long post #ultima 7 #rpg

0 notes

anyway-i-love-vanderwood · 7 years

Text

Harvest Moon AU - Zen Heart Events

Black Heart Event

Time: 12PM-6PM; Any season but Winter

Weather: Sunny

Location: Aurora Lake

[You walk into the bottom section of Aurora Lake, which lies south of the Moonlight Mine. Zen frequently can be found practicing the guitar by the lake’s shores, and you walks in on him doing so. He does not notice you at first, and you watch him practice while musical notes appear above his head.]

Zen: They think I’m crazy. ♪ My heartbeat goes up. ♫

Zen: Words cannot express my love for you! ♫♪

Zen: Did you – ack!

[An exclamation point appears above Zen’s head, and he stops playing as he notices you.]

Zen: <MC>, I didn’t see you out there! How long have you been listening?

Zen: …A while, huh? Well, I understand. It’s hard to ignore my alluring presence!

Zen: What brings you this far out of town?

> [Choice 1] “It’s beautiful out. I wanted to take a walk.”

Zen: Ahh, isn’t it, though? The sound of the wind, the song of the birds, the smell of the flowers drifting on the breeze…

Zen: It’s enough to make a man feel alive, isn’t it?

Zen: Whenever I visit to the lake, I remember why I moved to Mystic Valley in the first place. The fresh air has a way of making my soul feel… clean.

Zen: I always come out here to practice. Would you like to listen for a while? I’ll play you something a bit more polished.

[You nod and walk over to sit by Zen. Go to [A]

> [Choice 2] “I wanted to see you, my darling Zenny-zen♥”

(Zen blushes)

Zen: Hahaha, wow! Are you a fan?

Zen: Jeez, I’m so lucky… someone as cute as you was looking for me?

Zen: Well, come on over. I’ll play you something a bit more polished.

[You nod and walk over to sit by Zen. Go to [A]

> [Choice 3] “I was headed to the mine, when I heard you playing…”

Zen: I guess you’d have to pass me if you wanted to get there, huh?

Zen: I’m surprised you go in there… but I guess there’s stuff you need in the dirt. Ores for your tools, minerals to sell…

Zen: It’s filled with monsters though, right? I hope you’re careful.

Zen: I’d hate to see someone as cute as you end up in the clinic.

Zen: How about you take a break and listen to me for a while? I’ll play you something a bit more polished.

Zen: Back-breaking labor can wait a few minutes, right?

[A]

[Zen plays another song, musical notes appearing above his head as he strums. When he’s finished, he looks to you.]

Zen: That’s one of the first songs I learned how to play. What do you think?

> [Choice 1] “It sounded really nice.”

(Zen +200)

Zen: Thank you! I practice every single day. I have to, if I’m ever going to be a success.

Zen: Well, at least…

[Go to [B]

> [Choice 2] “That’s one of the songs in the musical Dandelion, right?”

(Zen +500)

Zen: You’re right! It’s the opening number! Wow, how did you know?

Zen: You must really like musicals.

Zen: It’s always been my dream to be in a production of Dandelion. Or… well, any musical really, haha.

Zen: Singing, acting, being on stage – it’s my dream. And every day, I’m out here practicing until I can make my dream come true.

Zen: Well, at least…

[Go to [B]

> [Choice 3] “That’s not really the kind of music I like…”

(Zen -200)

Zen: O-oh, ahaha…

Zen: It’s from a musical, but I guess that sort of thing isn’t for everyone.

Zen: They’re what I love, though. Musicals.

Zen: There’s just about the singing and the dancing – I feel like you can really feel the heart and soul that the actors put into the production.

Zen: Well, at least…

[B]

Zen: That’s what I tell myself when it seems hard to keep going.

Zen: The road to stardom isn’t an easy one, and I’d be lying if I said it never got rough, but…

Zen: It’s a small price to pay for your dreams, huh?

Zen: I figure you’d understand, given that you took over that old farm-plot and all. It can’t be easy, and it also can’t have been a popular decision among your friends and family.

Zen: I mean, who decides to drop society and run off to become a farmer, anyway?

Zen: --Ah, sorry! Don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment.

Zen: My family… wanted me to be plain. Dull. Boring. To just follow along with the crowd, and to be exactly like everyone else.

Zen: I know what you’re thinking! With a face like mine, how could I be destined for anything but show business?

Zen: …But, to them, what was most important... was being normal.

Zen: So anyone who forges their own path and carves their own destiny like you... well! I think that’s a pretty admirable person.

Zen: Anyway, sorry for keeping you. I’m sure you’re busy.

Zen: Come see me any time, okay? ♥ I’m always happy to have an audience.

[end]

[The rest of the Heart Events are under the read more!]

Purple Heart Event

Time: 12PM-6PM; Any season.

Weather: Sunny

Location: Aurora Lake

[You walk into the scene to find Yoosung standing by the water along with Zen. They seem to be in the middle of a conversation.]

Yoosung: In the beginning, you used to come out with me every weekday after practice! Then, it started being every other weekday…

Yoosung: And now that Rika’s gone? You never help me with the Community Center! If I didn’t know better, Zen, I’d say you didn’t care anymore.

Yoosung: But that can’t be true, right?

Yoosung: Of everyone in this town…

Yoosung: You’re the person… who still dreams the most about the day when everything is finished and you finally have an auditorium to perform in.

Zen: That’s true, but…

Yoosung: But what? But you’d rather not get your hands dirty and instead let me do all the work?

Yoosung: Is that it?

Zen: No!

Zen: Yoosung, do I seem like a lazy guy to you? It’s not that at all!

Zen: It’s just…

Zen: V already… told us to stop working on it. And he has the deed - without his approval and that damn cat-mayor’s permission, we can’t even think about opening the building!

Zen: Yoosung, I want a stage more than I want to keep breathing.

Zen: But we can’t do anything until we convince the two of them! Otherwise –

Yoosung: I thought you liked breaking the rules!

Yoosung: Liked flouting authority, liked proving that everyone else’s opinions didn’t matter! When did a stupid piece of paper start scaring you?

Yoosung: How are you going to get famous if you don’t have a stage to play on?!

Zen: …

[The two of them finally notice you, and sweat-drops appear before both of their heads.]

Zen: <MC!> God, you really have a habit of walking in on things, huh?

Yoosung: U-uh, hi, <MC!>

Yoosung: I’m sorry, Zen and I were just… talking about the old community center…

Yoosung: You know, that big old ruined building a bit north of the bakery?

Yoosung: Back in the day, Rika, V, Zen and I used to have all of these plans of fixing it up and using it to hold town-wide events like classes, art-shows, and, y’know, plays…

Yoosung: Things that might encourage more people to live here and help the townsfolk connect with each other…

Yoosung: But all progress has stopped, and the woodwork has been left to rot.

> [Choice 1] “Do you want help fixing it?”

(Zen +500)

[An exclamation point appears over Yoosung’s head.]

Yoosung: What, really? Is that a serious offer?

Yoosung: Yes, absolutely! It honestly gets really, really, really depressing working on it all by myself!

Yoosung: …So depressing that I sometimes skip out on it and play video games instead…

Yoosung: Come on! I’ve hauled the tools up there already, and I brought a cooler full of soda, too!

Zen: W-Wait!

[Question marks appear above Yoosung and your head.]

Zen: Er, well, I guess I can take a break from practice, too…

Zen: Let’s go buy a pack of beer, though. You can’t drink soda when you’re doing construction work!

Zen: That’s just lame.

Yoosung: That… kinda doesn’t sound safe?

Zen: Oh, come on, it’ll be fine. It makes things more fun!

[You walk off screen with Zen and Yoosung. The screen goes dark, and when it comes back, the clock has been set to 6PM and you’re outside the community center with Zen and Yoosung. You can control your character now, but if you talk to them before leaving, you get some unique dialogue.]

Zen: Don’t worry, I’ll get him home. Jeez, he really can’t take his booze, huh?

Yoosung: Zen, your hair is so pretty and your skin is so soooooft… I want to wear it…

[end]

> [Choice 2] “You should probably just let it collapse. It’s kind of ugly.”

(Zen -500)

Yoosung: It’s, it’s not ugly!

Zen: It kind of is…

Yoosung: That’s only because no one will help me fix it! It’ll be like a beautiful butterfly coming out of its cocoon when it’s done… you’ll see!

[A sweat-drop appears over Zen’s head.]

Zen: Look… if it means so much to you, I can come help for a little bit.

Zen: But we have to get V to agree to the repairs. Okay? Otherwise, I’m just going to spend my time practicing.

Yoosung: You know he’s never going to agree to that…!

Zen: It’s our best shot. There’s no way the mayor will intervene; that guy doesn’t care about anything other than cats and money.

Yoosung: Sigh…

Zen: Hey, maybe one day one of your chickens will lay a golden egg and we’ll just be able to throw tons of cash at Jumin.

Yoosung: That’s geese, and I already tried that!

Zen: …What.

Yoosung: Yeah! The wizard on the hill said if I got a goose and did the macerana in front of it while balancing a melon on my head and jumping up and down, it’d lay a golden egg after a month!

Yoosung: But it didn’t work!

Yoosung: Maybe I didn’t do it right...?

Zen: S-seriously, kid…

Yoosung: Anyway, let’s go!

[Yoosung and Zen walk away, but Zen stops by you before he goes off the screen.]

Zen: Sorry <MC>, I won’t be able to play for you today.

Zen: It might be a lost cause, but Yoosung is my friend. I have to help him out occasionally or he gets pretty hard to deal with.

[end]

Blue Heart Event

Time: 6PM-11PM; Any season.

Weather: Sunny

Location: Meteor Hill Peak

[Meteor Hill is where the Wizard 707 lives – and it’s also the best stargazing spot in town! When you enter the area, the camera pans up to Zen standing by the very top of the mountain, and you walk up beside him.]

Zen: Oh, hey there, <MC>…

Zen: Sigh…

[Choice 1] “You look sad. What’s wrong?”

Zen: Sad? Hmn. I suppose I am a bit gloomy, but nothing is wrong, don’t worry!

Zen: It’d be crime against the world itself if anything bad happened to me. ♥

Zen: I was just thinking about some things, that’s all.

[go to A]

[Choice 2] “That’s not a very energetic greeting.”

Zen: Haha, sorry, you’re right.

Zen: Hey there, <MC!>

Zen: Is that better?

Zen: It’d be horrible for me to deny you my beautiful, smiling face. Though… isn’t there something tragically beautiful by a gorgeous, sad man under the stars?

[A laughing face appears over Zen’s head.]

[A]

Zen: Anyway, the sky is so clear tonight… why don’t you join me?

[You walk up and sit beside Zen, and he turns to face the sky once more.]

Zen: Looking at the sky makes you think, huh? About how small everything is, how tiny and insignificant we are compared to the stars…

Zen: Yet, we humans have managed to touch them, haven’t we? We’ve launched rockets to the moon, we’ve made telescopes that can see distant planets…

Zen: And through art and literature, we’ve managed to, as a species, achieve heights that our ancestors could only dream of.

Zen: Beautiful paintings. Music that can move you to tears. Acting that takes you into another time, another place, that’s so convincing that it makes the characters appear real.

Zen: We’ve made light of the constellations; we ourselves have become stars.

Zen: Sigh…

Zen: Do you ever think about how the people that might be watching the same sky as you? People you’ve left behind, people who might not even remember that you exist…?

[Choice 1] “I do.”

Zen: You should tell me about them sometime. I’d love to hear about the kinds of things you think about in the darkness of the night.

[Choice 2] “I don’t.”

Zen: No? That’s probably for the best. It means that you’re not chained by your own regrets, that you can face the present without looking behind you.

Zen: Myself, on the other hand…

Zen: …

Zen: I’ve left a lot of people behind over my life.

Zen: My friends. My… family.

Zen: They didn’t believe that I could amount to more than a “pretty-faced, shallow thug”, so one day, I – I got on my motorcycle and just drove. And drove. And drove until the city was behind me, and all that I could see, for miles and miles, were green, rolling fields.

Zen: I didn’t have a lot with me. I only brought my jacket, my guitar, and a small knapsack filled with some of my clothes and my wallet.

Zen: I started living simply, just playing and singing in towns. I’d buy a bit of food - whatever I could afford - with the tip money…

Zen: And then I moved on.

Zen: I don’t know what I was looking for.

Zen: I don’t know if I was even looking for something, in the end, it was more like… it came looking for me.

Zen: Have… I ever really told you about Rika?

[You shake your head.]

Zen: Well, I came to Mystic Valley on a rainy day in the summer. It was pouring, I was soaked through, and I didn’t have enough money to stay anywhere. But! It was warm, so I thought, oh, I’ll just find someplace to wait out the rain and just sleep outside.

Zen: Hehe, can you imagine that? I was kind of like the prince of the forest in those days… sleeping under the open air. It was nice, sometimes.

Zen: I mean, sometimes it wasn’t, but look on the bright side, right?

Zen: Anyway, you know how the restaurant has that great porch? Well, I took shelter under there, and since I was bored, I brought out my guitar and started playing.

Zen: After a while… someone came out and saw me there, dripping on one of the chairs and playing away without a care in the world.

Zen: It was Rika.

Zen: She was astounded. She told me my music was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard, and she dragged me inside to introduce me to V. And V, that guy could really fret up a storm, you know? He got me a change of clothes, something warm to eat, and he also offered me a place to stay.

Zen: Free of charge. What a guy, right?

Zen: Anyway, they were both so excited. They asked me a million questions about myself – who I was, where I was from, what I was doing out here – and when I said I wanted to be in show business, Rika said…

Zen: “V! Let’s let him play here! He’ll bring in customers!”

Zen: …Those were really fun days… the restaurant was packed whenever I’d play. Everyone was laughing… I brought smiles to all their faces.

Zen: Even that damn mayor came out of his ivory palace to listen. Haha.

Zen: We’d even talk about how, when the community center was all fixed up, I’d even be able to put on plays… I could have a whole theatre-troupe, and achieve my real dream of telling a story on stage…

Zen: …

Zen: …But… that all stopped when she died.

Zen: V just… retreated into himself.

Zen: He didn’t… ask me to stop playing, really, but whenever I tried, I just remembered when Rika and V used to be there at the counter laughing, and…

Zen: After she was gone…

Zen: …

Zen: It… made me think of my parents…

Zen: And how they said everything about me was just temporary. My pretty looks, my hopes and dreams –

Zen: “Why on earth would you want to be an actor, Hyun? Even if you do make it, which you won’t, people will forget about you as soon as someone new comes along. Why not do something that’ll make a permanent difference in the world?”

Zen: And – even though I didn’t want to – when I remembered them smiling, I asked myself…

Zen: Did… I really leave anything lasting, even when people loved me?

Zen: Because in the end, those smiles disappeared.

Zen: And now, I’m nothing.

[Choice 1] “You’re not nothing!”

Zen: Haha… That’s sweet of you to say, <MC>. And it’s not really fair of me to whine to you about all this; you do keep visiting me. You are a fan. And please, believe me, I appreciate your support more than you know.

Zen: When you smile at me…

Zen: When you look at me as I’m playing…

Zen: When you visit me, day after day, and sit beside me by the lake…

Zen: I really… feel it. How much I love this place. How much I love being able to touch people with my voice.

Zen: I want to be heard, <MC>.

Zen: I want to be listened to.

Zen: I want to tell people the things they need to hear, the things that will make them smile and laugh and feel like the world is alright.

Zen: I want to be the light for those who are struggling.

Zen: I want to show them there’s something worth fighting for!

[go to B]

[Choice 2] “You should keep trying.”

Zen: Keep trying? I’m not… sure what I’m trying to do anymore.

Zen: What did I think would happen…? I ask myself that all the time. I feel like such a wash-out. Do I really have any actual talent? Part of the reason I wanted to be an actor was because women kept telling me that I was so beautiful I sparkled, and that I ought to be on the stage, but –

Zen: I don’t want to be looked at because I’m pretty; I wanted to be looked at because I have something to say!

Zen: Something for people to hear!

Zen: Something that, when people listen to it, makes them feel!

Zen: I want to make people happy!

Zen: I want to make people smile!

[go to B]

[Choice 3] “Why don’t you go back to the city?”

Zen: That’s a fair question to ask. If I want to make it big, then playing in a small town probably isn’t the best route to that, right? Abandoning this place, going back and trying my hand at the theater business…

Zen: It makes sense. But. Something about that – I just can’t do it.

Zen: Mystic Valley has its problems; but it gave me a place to call home when I couldn’t find one anywhere else. Rika, V, the entire town – they liked me because my talents brought them joy. It wasn’t shallow, it wasn’t just because of my appearance…

Zen: They heard something in my voice that they loved. Not my face; my voice.

Zen: For once, I felt like I was heard. And now? I want –

Zen: I want people to judge Mystic Valley not by appearances, but instead by its heart!

Zen: I want everyone to remember what’s so good about this place!

Zen: I want to put it into a song, put it into a story so I can convey it to them, what I feel! And to help them remember how they felt, once!

[B]

Zen: I want - !

Zen: …

[Zen stands up, and then exclaims to the sky - ]

Zen: I want everyone to feel like they can wish again!

Zen: What am I doing, sulking up here on top of a mountain? Man – what have I been doing all these months?

Zen: Playing by myself in the woods, waiting for people to stumble across me and discover me because I’m too afraid of bringing pain rather than joy with my work?

Zen: What the heck; that’s dumb!

Zen: You know what, <MC>? I’m going to march right down to the bar and tell V, straight up, that he needs to let me play there again!

Zen: We need to hold concerts there again!

Zen: Sure, something bad happened, but we can’t be sad forever!

Zen: Sure, the town is having trouble, but –

Zen: There are beautiful things out there, waiting to be seen!

Zen: Like me! Like you! Like the stars – I want everyone in this town to remember that they can be happy!

[Zen pants, and then turns back towards the path leading down the mountain.]

Zen: <MC>, thank you! I feel like I’ve been born again as a new man.

Zen: It’s gotten so dark, so please, let me walk you home. After that…

Zen: I’m going to go talk to V.

[The scene ends with a heart appearing over your head and you walking back down the path with Zen. After this, Zen’s schedule will change, and he’ll start routinely playing at the bar.]

[End]

Green Heart Event

There is no event at the green heart level, however to see the final two heart events, a token of affection must be given in the form of a ‘heart gem’ to the object of your affections. This makes the relationship ‘official’, and the rest of the town acknowledges you as dating your chosen candidate.

Zen: Is this – is this for me?

Zen: Really? Really, really – you’re giving this to me?

Zen: <MC>, I could kiss you! Can I kiss you? I really want to kiss you!

Zen: Goddess, you have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this happening. You confessing your love to me... and then me sweeping you off your feet and carrying you off to the moon!♥

Zen: Ahh, I’m happy! I’m so happy! I want to go tell everyone that <MC> likes me!

Zen: Me~♥ Me~♥! I’m the luckiest guy in the world!

Zen: <MC>, let me take you on a date today! Anywhere you want; my treat!

Zen: I’ll do anything at all for the cutest, sweetest person in the world.

[Hearts appear over the both of your heads, and the scene fades to black. When it comes back, you’re standing outside of your farmhouse, in the evening, with full energy.]

[Note: After this heart event, if you interact with the ‘journal’ in Zen’s room, it’ll be filled with love poems and sonnets.]

Yellow Heart Event

Time: 8AM-4PM; Any Season.

Weather: Any

Location: Meteor Hill

[You walk onto the screen to find Zen in front of the door to the Wizard’s house. When he hears you, he turns around and an [!] appears above his head.]

Zen: <MC!> Just the person I was hoping to see!

Zen: This has to be fate. Come on! Let’s get our fortune told together.

[You and Zen walk into the tower… Where you’re greeted emphatically by 707, whose voice resonates through the house even though you can’t see him initially.]

Seven: Ooohh!! What’s that, I hear? Is someone knocking at my door and summoning me, the magnificent wizard Seven-oh-Seven?!

Seven: Well, actually, you didn’t knock, which is awfully rude.

Seven: How about you try that again?

[Zen turns to the door, and though he doesn’t leave, he knocks on it.]

Zen: Is that better, oh Great Wizard?

Seven: Much, thank you!

[Seven suddenly appears, sliding down banister the spiral-staircase which lies in the center of the ground floor. When he lands, he poses and sparkles.]

Seven: What can I do for you, humble children of men? What great secrets can I reveal; what darkness needs to be banished with the unrelenting force of light?!

Seven: Tell me, oh noble petitioners, so I may aid you in your quest for glory!

Zen: Pffthaha… I just want the usual, Seven. Though I was hoping you could have a two-for-one special? See, I have my partner here, and…

Zen: Well…

Zen: I’d like our compatibility rated.♥

Seven: A compatibility rating? Oh joy!

Seven: And may there be joy to you both! At least, if the stars will it.

Seven: Sit down, then! And present your offerings, so I may be compensated for my just and true work.

[Zen walks up to Seven.]

Zen: Here you go, pal. Fresh from the supermarket.

Zen: I got you two packs since there are two of us.

Seven: Ah, the sweet nectar of life! The ambrosia of the gods! Liquid manna straight from heaven –

Seven: PhD Pepper!

Seven: This will do. Now, we’ll begin!

[You and Zen sit together in front of Seven’s crystal ball, and he walks on the other side, beginning to make hand gestures. The screen darkens a bit, and the blips of Seven’s dialogue get a different cadence.]

Seven: Now, let us peer into the future…

Seven: The future of you and Zen…

Seven: Abra-cadabra, alakazam, make me more than what I am, show me the heart of the golden land…

Seven: Bim-bam-boom!

Seven: . . .

Seven: The stars… have spoken…

Seven: Hyun Ryu…

Seven: <MC>…

Seven: Ah, what happiness is this…? It’s so profound, I can almost taste it.

Seven: Yours is a relationship that fills the other with love.

Seven: Stability. Support. Inspiration. You work harder for the sake of the other, and through that work, you both make the world a better place.

Seven: Wherever you go, your love will plant the seeds of new beginnings… not just for yourself, but for those around you.

Seven: Yours is a love that will touch others who view it. And it will be viewed by others!

Seven: A life of seclusion, of being a recluse… is not an option to you. And neither do you want it to be…

Seven: Because through being seen, you’ll ultimately make others happy.

Seven: You see each other for the beauty in your spirits…

Seven: Ahh, it makes me jealous just to look at you!

Seven: If I had to give you a compatibility rating…

Seven: It would be the fluffiness of a rabbit’s fur! Very soft, very nice, would definitely pet again!

Seven: (Though, it’s nothing compared to my beautiful Elly!!)

[Seven’s blips turn back to normal, and the screen lightens again. A heart appears over Zen’s head.]

Zen: Hear that, babe? We have the wizard’s blessing!

Zen: This is such great news!

[A heart appears over your head.]

Zen: Thank you, Wizard! I’m in your debt.

Seven: I can only tell you what the stars have been telling you all along. But, you are welcome!

Seven: Now go! Be free! Be happy!

Seven: And sing of your love, to anyone that’ll listen!

[You and Zen walk out, but the camera lingers on Seven for a final line before going dark.]

Seven: Heh-heh-heh… he’s going to be unbearable from now on. Oh well! That’s for the rest of the town to deal with.

[End]

Pink Heart Event

Time: 6PM-12PM

Weather: Any

Location: Señor Saguaro (V’s Restaurant)

[This heart event is preceded in the morning by you getting a letter. It’s from Zen, saying that he’s set up a special concert at V’s restaurant… and he’d like you to attend! You can walk in any time after 6, and the event will be triggered.]

[Zen is on the stage, and the camera follows your character as you walk up and take a seat at one of the tables near the front. Zen doesn’t stop playing, and finishes up the song before addressing the audience – which is pretty large. Larger than any of his performances so far.]

Zen: Thank you all for coming out here tonight. It really means a lot to see so many faces out in the crowd!

Zen: Especially those of you who are smiling and in love.♥ That’s my favorite kind of expression in the world!

Zen: …I’ll be honest, in the past, I sometimes hated looking at couples. There’ve times when I’ve been jealous of other’s happiness...

Zen: Times when I’ve been sad and confused about what to do…

Zen: And times when I’ve just wanted to give up and say, ‘you know? My dreams aren’t worth it!’ but, in the end…

Zen: There was someone beside me who told me to keep trying.

Zen: There was someone beside me who kept pushing me to succeed.

Zen: And that, my friends –

Zen: Is our local farmer, <MC!>

Zen: Everyone give <him/her/them> a round of applause for being a stellar member of the community, an excellent human being, and, dare I say it –

Zen: The best partner a guy could ask for.

[You blush as the crowd reacts in various ways. Some laugh, some clap, and some shake their heads because Zen’s kind of a moron.]

Zen: Anyway, this goes out to you, babe.

Zen: …I really, really love you.

[Zen begins to play another song – which is a finished version of the one he was singing in the very first heart event - and the screen fades to black after it’s completed. When it comes back into view, you and Zen are standing outside of Señor Saguaro, and it’s very dark.]

Zen: Thanks for coming tonight. I really appreciate it.

Zen: And, uh, sorry for gushing about you in public there, I just really couldn’t help myself.

Zen: …So… I’ve, uh. I’ve been talking to some people in town.

Zen: And – uh. We petitioned Jumin…

Zen: And while he’s still saying that we don’t have the funds to make progress on the community center, he did say that he has some pretty big rooms in his manor that we could use to practice, and, well.

Zen: Maybe put some small shows in, too.

[Choice 1] “That’s exciting!”

Zen: Isn’t it? A place to work that isn’t out in the middle of the woods! It’s like a dream come true.

Zen: Jumin says he has some props we can use, too!

[go to A]

[Choice 2] “Maybe Jumin’s not totally heartless after all.”

Zen: Pft, I wouldn’t go that far, he said he’d want some of the proceeds from the show to go to the town coffers.

Zen: …Though, on second thought…

Zen: I guess… he probably would use that money to help the town, huh?

[A sweatdrop appears over Zen’s head.]

[A]

Zen: Anyway, I’d really love it if you came to some of the practices.

Zen: Maybe… you’d even want to try acting yourself?

Zen: No pressure! But… it’d mean a lot for you to be there.

Zen: I’d like you to see how far I’ve come.

[A heart appears above both your heads, and then Zen leans in and kisses you.]

Zen: …Thanks for being you, <MC>.

Zen: Shall I walk you home? I think it’d be a good way to end the night.

[Another heart appears over your head, and you and Zen walk off together.]

Marriage:

After seeing Zen’s final heart event, you can propose to him using a Prismatic Letter Opener, which is a longstanding tradition in Mystic Valley. A few things change after marrying Zen. He moves in with you, and he’ll practice on your farm instead of going out to the lake. He and Yoosung also start working on the Community Center as part of your daily routine. Zen also will write you letters that you can find on your night-stand in the evening, telling you how much he loves you and appreciates you.

After marriage, an event chain is unlocked with V and Jumin regarding the community center, and that starts the post-marriage content of fixing it up.

#mysme #mysme headcanons #mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanons #mysme reactions #mystic messenger reactions #mysme imagines #mystic messenger imagines #long post #mystic messenger spoilers #mysme spoilers #zen #harvest moon au

110 notes · View notes

justdictatorshipthings · 4 years

Text

New year, new you

Because my post on sustainable living tips was popular (by the standards of someone that has 200 followers and only posts once a year) I decided to do one of tips for healthy living. I suspect its a sad fact that a lot more people are concerned for losing weight this new years than the fact our environment is probably in more need of a life style change. Despite this there is still a positive here, a healthy you is more capable of dealing with the problems the world faces.

As someone that has been cooking nearly every night for years. i have been working on this idea of what i call good for bad, and bad for good. What this means, besides the fact I need to work on that title, is the following. There is good (healthy food) and then there is unhealthy food. The easiest way to cut out the bad, is to not make it not as bad. It sounds a little unoriginal but there is more to it. I will explain this using examples.

- I love fried food, who doesn’t. But its amazing that we fry the worst possible things. Fried broccoli is delicious, blanched then covered in tempura batter and friend. Rather than using nasty potatoes that have little nutritional value, try frying something healthy. Then cover it in parmesan because you only live once.

- I am lucky i enjoy fruit, but a lot of other people don’t. The best way to get it in your diet is to mix it with something healthy, like yogurt. You can make pineapple curry and stir fry. As much as i enjoy it on pizza, the hatred of it is because pizza is already bad for you, a bit of pineapple isn’t going to change that. Though my food philosophy does work in that direction also. But if you make something healthy like a stir fry, and make it easier to eat with fruit, then you are on the right track.

- Chinese food is based on the concepts of yin and yang. The idea is that anything bad has to be balanced out, to make a complete meal. You can see this in a lot of dishes. This is probably another example of good for bad, and bad for good. If you have to eat confectionery, buy the really good stuff (usually hidden in the health food section), the type of sweetner can make a big difference.

- Kitchen sink salads are the new norm. If you have a bunch of ingredients, just make them in to a salad. More often than not it works because greens are pretty neutral flavor wise. Left overs work will in this, which brings me to my next point:

- Make really big side dishes. Roasted vegetables, grilled eggplant, etc. These are great for a salad the next day. So you should always make more of them, so its easier than skipping a meal all together.

- Some people will say, intermittent fasting is also good. This can work well also provided that you are eating enough in general. Google about this if you are interested in the benefits of skipping meals every now and again. I won’t cover it here.

- Whatever works for some people, may not work for you. I have seen the Atkins diet fade away, only to come back as the keto or paleo diet. Which are the same thing. Infact keto means ketosis, which is the process your body goes through when you don’t eat enough carbohydrates, you smell terrible, that is the point. But what needs to be said here, is the inventor of this diet, Mr Atkins actually died of a heart attack. So while some people without a history of heart problems can cope well with eating large amounts of animal products, it doesn’t work for everyone. (This is the same with my diet tips!)

- Be scientific. Just because you read something in a book, as i just said it won’t work for everyone. So see what works best. These are all tips that worked for me, but not everyone will be the same.

- Drink fresh vegetable juice before you go to bed. This is the problem with western diets we eat too much and then sleep it off. What i found works best is actually drinking fresh vegetable juice. Your body performs all kinds of necessary functions while sleeping. It turns out that if given the proper energy, it can also burn fat pretty well. But if you fill up your body with fat before you sleep, it doesn’t do this so well.

- Mediterranean lifestyles. Based on that previous point, having live in Europe, i can not speak highly enough of big lunches and small sandwich based dinners. The countries that practice this are winning on the life expectancy scale. They are also going to have the oldest people alive very soon. Its just healthier even if our routines don’t allow it, to eat a lot during the day, that way you have time to work it off. Our western life styles don’t allow for this, as most people probably need a rest after eating a 3 course meal. But i really do miss the many restaurants that would offer a lunch menu, you could choose from a first and second plate, dessert and coffee for a fixed price. It was cheap, and convenient, and my sleeping routines were much better. Because then i would eat a sandwich at night which made me tired. Its also a lot easier to wake up on an empty stomach.

- The modern diet. While i could say many things about what is wrong with a modern diet, one of the things that has changed the most over the past 200 years is what people do with their time. Previously, everything we did involved physical activity. Now we are actually paid money, to sit at a desk and use our heads without moving. This requires energy, but it doesn’t burn it in the way that we have spent our entire evolutionary history doing. I believe this is actually contributing to the number of obese people. Its not just the diets, its what we do all day to. Sitting at a computer requires a lot of energy, more than moving. But its a very artificial life style. Our bodies are struggling to catch up with this trend.

- Avoid grains, this includes sugar. This is probably a very broad statement, but the more processed a grain is, the more you should avoid it. Don’t eat any flour for a week. Then eat the worst white bread you can find. See what it does to your energy? Its because most of the grains we eat these days aren’t anything like what we used to eat. Gluten free is a big thing now, because it gets people to eat healthier less manufactured grains, and this agrees with everyone, not just people who have an intolerance. Obviously if you are allergic to gluten its one thing, but for most people they feel like they have an allergy to gluten because our bodies are struggling to process this stuff, it becoming more like poison than food. I am sort of allergic to it. But i find eating healthy, organic, grains makes a big difference. Again its just as much to do with the strains we grow, the chemicals and pesticides we use, and finally the processes in which it is converted in to the products we eat that make it so bad rather than people being allergic to it.

- Preservatives. There is starting to be research now that suggests that preservatives in bread are what makes it so difficult for some people to digest. Not only does it not agree with our bodies, it turns out those preservatives get in to our fat stores. In there they preserve our fat also, making it much harder to burn. Some people are more predisposed to this than others. But i suspect this is the same with so many on the shelf products, such as condiments, confectionery, packaged foods. They all contain these same products which make it so hard to digest. I had suspected this theory since the days of trans fat, which is now banned in so many places. It was just caused by corporate greed, because it made products last longer. The catch was, that the fat, once in your system, would never leave or break down. It is part of the very growing body of evidence of what is so bad out our supermarket based diets.

- Eat seasonally. This was in my last posts, but its cheaper. The problem is supermarkets sell the same products all year round. You have to go to a farmers market or a good green grocer to have access to different seasonal goods. Honestly you save a lot of money, and you are exposed to many things you wouldn’t even see elsewhere. you will see that what is in season is usually cheaper at a supermarket, but trust me you are missing out on so much.

- Organic is better, in all cases, its not cheaper, but even just on taste alone it is worth it. The catch is, that i suspect if everyone on this planet was to eat organic, there wouldn’t be enough space on this planet to do so. So if you are lucky enough to be able to buy organic, enjoy it, its a privilege. And by organic when it matters. So if an ingredient is the center of a meal, then buy it organic. If its not, and its going to be mixed with other foods, its not worth it.

- Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but not the easiest for some.Regardless, eat something, even if its coco pops, eventually you will get used to it, and you can start moving on to healthier things. I was a big fan of smoothies, and i would find ways to make them fun, even if it meant a little bit of ice cream. I am also of the belief that protein is best enjoyed in the morning, as it wakes up your metabolism for the rest of the day. So if you really want to, bacon and eggs are actually better enjoyed in the morning.

- Go vegan, even if you lift bro. Surprisingly, up until recently the idea of a vegan body builder was unheard of, now its actually a thing. There is a benefit because, they actually have more energy, and suffer less from muscle pain the following day. This benefit actually outweighs any negatives provided that you do it the right way. Which is more the problem and why it has such a bad reputation, its possible, just so many people don’t do it the right way.

- Variety is healthy. We are always exposed to the same foods, but i really enjoy finding new varieties. Recently i bought a bunch of organic carrots from a farmers market. They were in so many colours and types. They were delicious. 100 years ago, there were almost 1000 types of potatoes farmed. Now there is about 1% of that. Its sad, because the health benefits are lost when you eat the same thing over and over again. But the different varieties, help to give you what you need while keeping it a new experience for your digestive system. This is the same for everything, breads, meats, it doesn’t matter what it is, even a good thing can be bad if you expose yourself to it for long enough.

- Its worth remembering, that we don’t eat vitamins, or anything else. If you paid attention in high school you will remember, the food we eat, actually is used as energy for bacteria in our digestive tract that creates the necessary nutrition for our bodies. So eating protein, doesn’t actually mean that protein will go in to our bodies. After all its protein from a cow for example. We still need to convert that in to a protein that our body uses. Which also requires energy. So while i’m pretty sure it can’t create vitamin c without fresh fruit or vegetables, and vitamin c tables are better than no vitamin c, its more complicated then just that.

- Building on my first point, it takes energy to eat and digest. Part of the reason fast food feels good, is because it triggers a chain reaction between our taste receptors and our brain. It actually gives us pleasure, its sort of like drinking a glass of wine. So in that sense, it is good for you, chocolate is the same, there is lots of things that fall under this category. But the food itself, gives you no energy, in fact in a lot of cases it requires more energy to process than it gives you. However, if you are to drink a green smoothie after a cheeseburger. The negative effects are almost gone, because you give your body the ability to digest this food properly. It also balances out the salt, and the sugar which is so common in fast food. If you don’t, it runs out of energy and just starts storing the fat because its to complicated. This is an over simplification, but the idea is justified.

- This same chain reaction of feel good chemicals, is part of the reason we become addicted to unhealthy foods. In terms of how your brain stores such information. Water is really healthy, but if you drink soft drink, the taste is designed to really go to work on your taste buds. So your mind will remember a bottle of coke better than it will remember water. This is how people become addicted to food, because pretty soon thirsty = coke. Because its been influenced by a product that you would have no craving for otherwise (as it will actually make you more thirsty due to the large amount of sugar). So much of the globalized food products we eat do this. The salt in chips. The sugar in sweets. The booze in beer (which when you think about it, taste wise alcohol is anything but a tasty experience) obviously there is more going on there than taste alone.

- Balance. Not just in every aspect of your life, but what we eat needs to be balanced. If you have indigestion, poor bowl movements, just about anything that causes you discomfort. We all seem to be aware that this is caused by bad eating habits. But there is probably something missing in your diet. If you get indigestion, eat a lot more greens. All of our bodily functions have these “compensators”. If you experience something, don’t just accept it as a passing thing. Actually google what can be done to compensate it. Because i am convinced these things happen for a reason. Its the start of what will eventually become a sickness, a cold or a short life expectancy, etc. If we ignore this, then eventually it will be a problem.

- Antioxidants. building on that previous point. When you are sick, i don’t believe chicken soup helps. Fresh vegetable juice, sauteed kale, this actually works. Since i started being a little more scientific about my diet, i just don’t get sick, even when sick people are around me. Your body needs energy, the right kind of energy. Plants is our biggest alley in the struggle to be healthy.

- Green is better. We can see more shades of green than any other colour. This is due to our evolutionary history, as we needed to differentiate between shades of greens to spot predators in every part of nature (trees, grass, etc). But it also an example of why greens are an importance part of our diet, because it where we spent most of evolutionary history, around plants. But colour is also important. Not in food coloring, but in the plants we eat. Different colours mean different things. So more colours the better. Eating apples is good. But eating apples in every colour is better because they all have their own benefits. While one may be better for your weight (low GI red ones), another may be better for aging slower (green granny smiths for example).

- Exercise isn’t always good for you. The stereo types of jocks being stupid are exaggerated, but there is evidence to suggest that it does deprive your mind of vital blood. Like wise a lazy life style can affect your blood flow and have the same consequence. I have been of the mind set that if you don’t enjoy exercise, you may actually fall in to this category, but there is a reason for it, so you should actually address that reason. It has a lot of health benefits, and the right exercise can release endorphins. I’m sure you've heard this all before. At the same time, it can make things like depression and social anxiety worse. In fact it can cause mental illness problems, it can destroy the effects of some medications, it can make you more aggressive, overly confident. It also has long term health problems such as bone and joint problems, permanent damage caused by injuries and other complications. So its not essential to go to the gym, but that doesn’t mean you get off that easy.

- See everything as exercise. Its that simple, especially if you fall in the category of the reward doesn’t make it worth while. Park your car further away so that you have to walk. Carry as many of the groceries as you can. Turn everything that you do in to a way to stay fit which is part of what i do. There are so many opportunities to do this. Walk faster. Don’t use a trolley. Run with your dog instead of throwing a ball. Stand while you are working on something. Do easy exercise when you have a free moment. Use the stairs. Just about anything. All sports have a so called honey moon moment. This si when you notice the most gains. However one you past this period, gains can be pretty slow. If you do it this way, you never leave the honey moon period as its always new, its always a challenge. The only catch is you won’t get the same results as going to the gym, but i would wager you are actually healthier.

- Bigger isn’t always better. You will find a lot of really big gym people would struggle with repetitive tasks. People who are big, can actually be more healthy than you are because they have to carry a lot of extra weight. There are people I know who weigh more than me, but swim a lot faster than me. There is no universal rule to what is healthy, so don’t buy in to what the media sells you.

- The best way to stay fit, for me any way, is water aerobics. Annoying that it involves getting yourself to a pool. But you can do so many types of exerciser that you can’t do any other way. You have 360 degrees of movement, so you can exercise muscles in ways you can’t out of the water. I just find its the best way to grow mass on all sides, rather than in the most common places which is what happens at the gym.

- Doctors that work in this field will tell you, your bowl movements give you all the information you need for your health. while this is a public social media post i will spare you all the details. But our society during the victorian years made anything associated with being human as “gross”. Its still not very different unless you are talking about toilet humor, which is childish but it makes an interesting point that its “ok” to ridicule something we all do. This need to see our selves as anything but animals, that human is godly when compared to animals. It has pushed us away from vital functions that actually serve the very important purpose of keeping us alive. That doesn’t mean you should shout about it from the roof tops. But remember our bodily functions keep us alive, don’t be ashamed of them. We all have them. Because this shame has actually probably done more to hurt us than to make us healthy. Don’t let society do that to you.

- This doesn’t just apply to your bodily functions, but your body as a whole. While diversity is good, it sort of makes our differences in to a commodity (the current diversity trend resembles that more than anything else). Don’t let our society do that to you either, making you become an unhealthy stereo type, because you feel your difference has no benefit to society. Accept your differences and accept others to. Its healthy, just like everything else in this post is, based on current information that is subject to change of course.

I hope 2020 brings you closer to the you that you believe yourself to be.

0 notes