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snippychicke · 1 month

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Poppy Seeds--Part Three

Inspired by TooManyPsuedonyms work, which in turn was inspired by @semisolidmind fanart/cabin!Au for Playtime Poppy. Especially these works today

Master post

Seven: Music

As soon as Kissy found the old radio stuffed away, she was in love. Especially when you found the vinyl records and 8-track tapes stored away. Old records your grandparents had loved like The Mamas and The Papas, Abba, John Denver, and others you weren’t so familiar with.

Soon music was always playing in the house as long as Kissy was awake. To the point that every time you were in town, you had raided the second hand store and old music shops for more.

Because it not only made the pink giant happy, but seemed to lift everyone's spirits, even on the bad days. And if that’s what it took, you would be all too happy to accommodate.

-+-

Some old song played, and something about it had everyone up and dancing. Kissy had Ollie in her arms, and the boy was giggly as the giant spun him around. Poppy was swaying by herself on the kitchen counter, though she seemed quite content by the smile on her face.

Dancing with Dogday was a bit challenging considering your size difference, but he was determined to make it work. And well, you had no complaints as he held you close with an arm around your back while his other hand encompassed yours.

Actually, you were in heaven, you just didn't want to admit it. The feelings in your chest had been slowly growing warmer and fonder for Dogday, but burying your face in his soft chest was making you realize what exactly those emotions were.

Surely this was just another side effect of the horrors you survived, right? Or just having someone so openly affectionate with you after being somewhat socially isolated the last decade as you hid from the truth you accidentally had uncovered at Playtime.

It didn't help with him always calling you angel, or following you around like a shadow. And right now, some of your favorite moments were just laying together in bed, snuggled closely and basking in the moment.

You were starting to fall in love, and you weren't quite sure how to deal with it.

His deep voice started to sing softly along with the chorus, and you knew you were in deep trouble.

Eight: Hunt

Feeding four people was going to strain your meager funds as a small farmer/rancher. Especially when two of those ‘people’ were towering creatures with an appetite of 2 each.

You knew they could ‘survive’ off less, and they both tried to hide the fact the typical portions were leaving them hungry. But after hearing both Kissy and Dogday's growl loudly several meals in a row, you deduced that it wasn't quite enough. And while you had a large garden planted, it was going to be at least a few weeks to a couple of months to benefit from that.

You knew there were plenty of deer and elk in the woods this time of year--along with things like bears and mountain lions. So you had your gramps' old shotgun hanging off your shoulder by the old strap, unable to see either Dogday or Kissy but you knew they were still within shouting distance. Surely between the three of you, you'd be able to bring something in, even if it was something smaller like a rabbit or one of the wild turkeys.

Hunting was not your favorite thing, but it put food on the table. Besides, you knew Ollie needed more nutrition too if he was ever going to get rid of that sallow tint and put meat on his bones.

There was a grumble along with a crack of a branch that gave you half a second warning. You turned, not expecting the giant grizzly bear that somehow got behind you.

You swore as you fumbled with the shotgun-- you had been more familiar with the old Grab Pack than you were the gun. The grizzly huffed again and lumbared towards you far faster than you thought something that size could. You attempted a shot, which fired with a harsh crack, but it went far too wide.

You were dead.

But in a blur of deep violet, the grizzly was knocked to the forest floor. It took you another second to recognize Catnap as he tore into the animal.

There was a brief moment of relief… and then you realized you had just traded one deadly situation for the other.

Catnap eventually released the grizzly bear and looked towards you. You took a step back, even though you knew there was no way you could outrun him. Not here in the open where there were no places to hide. You could try and shoot him, yet that weighed too heavy on your conscience, even if it meant saving your life. Never mind you couldn’t even shoot the grizzly at point-blank range.

Catnap suddenly stood on his back legs, easily switching to be bipedal… then kneeling before you. “Savior,” he breathed with more reverence than Dogday which was… was something.

“Uh,” you answered intelligently, blinking at the giant cat. Savior? You?

With a sense of deja-vu, Catnap was tackled in the same way he had tackled the animal moments earlier. Dogday’s giant paws were clenched into fists as he wailed upon the purple cat, a deep thunderous growl echoing from his chest.

Before he could do too much damage, and before Catnap could start fighting back-- you rushed forward and grabbed Dogday’s fist and held it back. You knew he could easily overpower you, but thankfully he paused, looking at with narrowed eyes.

“Stop it,” you begged, “please. He-he saved my life.”

That seemed to get through to him. Dogday looked towards the lifeless form of the grizzly, then at Catnap beneath him. The other giant Smiling Critter was glaring up at the dog with the same hate Dogday was glaring at him.

You gently pulled at Dogday, and he slowly followed your lead, unpinning Catnap and allowing him to climb to his feet and brush off the dirt and leaves.

"Why are you here?” Dogday snarled, placing himself directly between you at Catnap just as Kissy arrived, her smile dimmed as she bared her needle-point teeth at Catnap.

Yet Catnap seemed unaffected, his eyelights focused on you, peeking out from behind your friend. “They saved us. They are The Savior who defeated the false-god.”

Dogday relaxed somewhat at his word, though just a little. “Ah, just as much of a fanatic as before.”

“You deny their works?” Catnap growled back. “Even after the many works you saw yourself, you are a heretic of the true savior?”

“My angel saved us; I’ll agree with you on that, but I know they’re not going to be happy about that new title, or your worship. Unlike the prototype, angel doesn’t exactly like sacrifices.”

“N-no fighting,” you agreed, holding on to Dogday’s hand as you stepped up to his side. “No killing--other than for food,” you tacked on, seeing Kissy pause. A deer in one hand that she had dragged like a stuffed animal along the forest floor. “Or for protection. And that goes for both of you.”

It was probably seeing you try to boss the two--both of whom were about twice your height.

You squeaked indignantly as Dogday suddenly lifted you up and pulled you close to him. “Only for your sake, angel.” he murmured, nuzzling against the crook of your neck and shoulder the best he could due to both his size and also undoubtedly glaring at Catnap over your shoulder.

You could feel your face burn hot, but still gave an exasperated expression to Kissy, who hid her teeth and instead looked far more amused than she should have been.

Nine: Close

You escaped into the porch, desperate for some fresh air. It had been about a week since the Incident in the woods, and if you thought Dogday had been your shadow, you had been sorely mistaken. Knowing Catnap.was somewhere in the nearby forest left him on high alert and even more protective.

At first, you could understand it. You were more than a little shaken yourself. Especially when you would find random animals dead on your porch, ranging from rabbits to a moose. Dogday was sure Catnap was taunting everyone but…

But you had cats before. And yes, Catnap was not an actual cat, but neither was Dogday yet there were traits that seemed too much of a coincidence.

For example, Dogday loved to be petted. To the point he often rested his head in your lap while you both sat on the floor to watch tv. He had that ‘magic spot’ where his ear and head joined that when scratched would make his leg kick. (You avoided it most of the time, knowing he was self conscious of it… but sometimes temptation was too great to see that blissed look on his face.)

So you had to admit, Catnap acting like a cat… was not so far fetched. Bringing food (because they had all been fresh kills of edible animals) was a sign of affection in most cats--even moreso, you were sure, for a giant cat who had endured a decade of near starvation.

But convincing Dogday that Catnap meant no harm… that would be a challenge.

You rubbed your eyes hard with an aggravated sigh, hard enough you saw stars when you opened your eyes.

…or maybe not. You noticed a pair of eyes reflecting the porch light, far taller than any animal you could think of…

Slowly Catnap stepped out of the shadows, though didn’t pass the treeline. Instead he seemed hesitant to draw too close, his gaze flitting between you and the house behind you.

Probably expecting Dogday or maybe one of the others to come out in a rage. Yet you could hear them talking and laughing as they played one of the board games (that you purposely lost for a chance for some fresh air.)

You didn’t feel comfortable enough to approach Catnap, but… something about the lonely creature tugged at your heartstrings. Without really thinking you scooted to the edge of the porch, dangling your legs off the edge, and offered a hand.

“Psspt ppsspp ppsspp.”

The giant cat blinked at you, and for a long moment you felt like an idiot. Trying to call Catnap like he was just an old farm cat? Really?

Yet it seemed to work as Catnap slowly stalked out of the first, slinking low to the ground with his attention split between you and the cabin.

He really was an overgrown cat.

The thought made you relax some, even ast Catnap eventually loomed over you, head tilted in curiosity as if to say: “Okay, I’m here. Now what do you want?”

“Thank you for the presents?” you offered awkwardly, not sure yourself what had compelled you other than pity. “The turkey especially, even if we had feathers strewn about for a while. They were quite… novel to everyone.”

Catnap appeared to accept the praise pridefully, standing a little taller. Without thinking (which was certainly a common theme tonight) you raised your hand to scratch his chin. He paused for a moment before sinking into your touch, a slow and deep purr resonating from his chest.

Oh. You don’t bother fighting the smile as Catnap slowly slumped to the ground, looking as blissed with the soft scratches as Dogday. Though the purring was quite new, and where Dogday allowed his eyes to close completely as he rested his head in your lap, Cat nap’s were only half closed, though the expression in them was full reverence and tenderness.

It was a rather peaceful moment--until the door slammed open. “Catnap!” Dogday snarled as the other giant Smiling Critter jumped, back arched and a hiss on his lips. “Angel! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” you answered as you jumped to your feet, stopping Dogday from going after Catnap as he retreated back into the woods. “He didn’t hurt me, see?”

It took a moment for Dogday to tear his gaze away from the shadows where Catnap disappeared into and look down to you. You reached up with the same hands you had petted Catnap with and cupped his face. As always, it helps him relax, though only somewhat.

“Angel,” he sighed, leaning into your touch, though not as deep as before. “Why do you have to be so kind?”

You're pretty sure his question was rhetorical, but you smiled anyway as you rubbed the pad of your thumb along the curve of his cheek. “Because no one else was.”

That caused the last bit of stress to ease, and he sunk deeper into your touch while wrapping his arms around your waist. “Angel, my sweet angel, you're going to be the death of me.”

---*--

Dogday knew logically that his angel was as kind and merciful as their namesake. They wouldn't be his angel if they weren't.

But they were als very brave and foolhardy.

It drove Dogday up the wall to see them be so kind to Catnap for some reason. They had all done things they weren't proud of, the only innocent one among them being Ollie. But they had done so to survive. There had been no pleasure in it.

But Catnap… he killed because the Prototype told him. He had killed so many in the name of the Prototype.

He may call their angel ‘savior,’ but Dogday didn't trust him. He didn't like how his angel would leave portions of food out, going as far as to yell for Catnap to come and get it before the other wild creatures did. He didn't like it when they'd scratch Catnap behind his ear, laughing as the giant cat rubbed his face against them with a deep purr.

He really didn't like it when his kind hearted angel made a space for Catnap in the barn. Filling the area with blankets and pillows, and even a spare radio and lamp.

“I can't just leave him!” You argued with a huff later that night, dressing yourself for bed. “It's going to get cold at night--winter comes early to these parts. I know that letting him in the house would be a bad idea--if he'd even accept the offer.”

Dogday knew he would--if just to spite him. Everything Catnap did, Dogday swore was for the sole purpose to annoy him.

“He doesn't deserve you, angel. None of us do, but especially not him. Yet your so kind to him, going out of the way to make sure he's okay…”

“I'd do that for anyone, ‘day. You guys didn't deserve the shit you went through, the least I can do is make up for a bit of it.”

Dogday hesitated as you climbed into bed, an uncomfortable feeling welling up in his chest. “Is that why we're here, angel? For you to try and repent as well?”

He could tell he struck a nerve as you flinched, and almost apologized, except the words got caught in his voicebox, twisting themselves into barbs to cut deeper. “Is that the only reason you let me stay with you every night?”

Your eyes were watery when you looked up at him, though there was that steely resolve as well. “You know it's not, Dogday. You're… you're special to me. I wouldn't let anyone else share my bed… except maybe Olie if he had a nightmare.”

Something twisted and knotted in Dogday’s chest relaxed at your reassurance allowing him to sigh. You echoed his sigh before patting the bed beside you. “Come here, big guy. It looks like you could use a hug.”

How were you so perfect?

Instead of crawling in beside you, Dogday decided to take that hug by crawling halfway atop of you, head pressed against your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

He could hear your heart beating, quick but strong, and simply presumed it was from emotions running high like his own. He didn't even realize he had nestled himself between your legs until he felt the soft weight of your thighs press against his hips.

Oh. He may not be human but he did recognize a compromising position when he saw one. Yet before he could pull away, your hands reached up and scratched behind his ears. “Oh ‘day,” you sighed with such a hint of fondness he felt his tail wag in response. “You haven’t been feeling jealous, have you?”

His tail froze as he tensed, and he tried to hide his face in your chest. “No,” he lied.

Your laugh made it clear you didn't believe him, but you didn't call him out on it. Instead you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Good, because that would be silly. No one can compare to you, no matter what.”

His face felt like it was on fire, yet his tail was wagging faster than ever. His arms tightened around your waist as he tried to press himself closer to you. You were his angel, his guiding light, and for you to say that he was special to you.

Well, he couldn’t be happier.

#dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime #dogday/player #dogday x player #dogday/reader #dogday x reader #dogday #catnap #catnap poppy playtime

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twopoppies · 7 months

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I absolutely love all of your fic recommendations. Thank you so much for this. Do you know of any fics, especially lesser known, where H &/or L have blue collar jobs? Construction, assembly line, mechanic, farming, etc? Thank you for your service to the fandom! 💝

Hi, darling. Oh, that’s a fun question. I think I can pull something together for you.

Ever Since I Tried Your Way by flowercrownfemme / @lesbianiconharrystyles (E, 26K) I loved everything about this fic, from the setting to the characterizations to the slow way Harry discovers himself and how Louis supports everything about him. It’s just beautifully written and wonderfully moving. Rancher Louis / eventual rancher Harry

An Invincible Summer by Brooklyn_Babylon / @twopoppies (E, 45K) this one is mine, I hope you like it. Farmer Harry / Temporary farm hand /author Louis

Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn’t ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son.

The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about.

our little corner of the world by brownheadedstranger (E, 30K) This fic reads like original fiction in the best sort of way. The whole fic makes you feel like you’re stuck in the hot, dusty little town along with the boys. It’s beautifully written – slow and wistful – and I really need to re-read it now that I think of it! Line cook Harry / diner worker Louis.

The Road Less Travelled by freetheankles / @anymerrylilthought (E, 98K) Also known as “the lumberjack fic”, this fic is an instant classic. The author makes widowed Louis’ pain and depression so real and so moving. The characters are three-dimensional and complex and the well written sexual tension is finally relieved with super hot smut. Link is to a download. Lumberjack Louis

So Darling, Just Say You’ll Stay Right By My Side by supernope (E, 28K) Another fic I read too long ago to recall details of, and my rather unhelpful notes read, “LOVE! Slow build up, but so sexy!” So…here’s to trusting old me. I’m not too worried, this author is pretty sure bet. Chief of police Louis. Deputy Harry.

Divine Intervention by Awriterwrites / @a-writerwrites (E, 6K) This fic is short, but super sexy and bittersweet. Something about the way Louis is so gentle in it just gets to me. Building inspector Harry

where the tide takes you, I will follow by @pinkcords (E, 40K) First of all, I’m so happy this author is writing again! Second, everything about this was just lovely. The slow, dreamy tone of their writing fit the setting and the way Harry and Louis fell into each other so, so well. I love how descriptive their writing is without being flowery or pointless. The smut scenes were toe-curlingly sexy, and gave us beautiful insight into both of the boys. I just wanted to live inside this fic. Fish shack worker Louis

may we all have a vision now and then by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (M, 4K) This author is one of my favorite writers in this fandom and everything they do is infused with so much delicacy and tenderness. I literally cried through this fic because of how wounded Harry’s character feels. Read it and then treat yourself to their whole AO3 catalogue. Trucker Louis

it’s time to find your wings again by we_are_the_same / @why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (T, 12K) I just loved the fairytale quality of this story––not cute and cuddly, but dark and curious and intense–– more like a Grimm fairytale. So unique and so worth reading. Prison guard Louis

Naked & Proud by kiwikero (E, 19K) Farmer Harry runs an organic store. Lust at first sight. Summer love. All sorts of good stuff in this really well-written story.

O’ Christmas Tree by @justalittlelouislove (M, 15K) I love this author’s writing and this one is just 100% wonderful fluff that still managed to make me cry! It’s sweet and charming and one of the very few kid fics I actually enjoyed. Christmas tree farmer Harry.

Lambing Season by @helloamhere (E, 26K) This is beautiful little emotional fic and it’s one of my favorites. If you’ve ever wanted to leave your shitty work environment, escape to an idyllic countryside, and find love along the way, read this one. Farmer Louis.

Coup de Foudre by angelwarm (M, 15K) The characters (particularly Louis) are pretty OOC, but god this fic is gorgeous. After I read it I just sat there not knowing what to do with myself. It’s sad and hopeful and just gorgeously written. Diner Worker Harry

Wild and Unruly by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews / @gloriaandrews (E, 124K) One of the OG classics in this fandom. If you haven’t read it yet, you’re missing out. It’s just a great, original story. Plus, cowboy Harry, city boy Louis, bad guys to hate, nail biting drama, hot af sexual chemistry and smut, and a super satisfying ending. Rancher Harry.

————

You might also check my Military AU fic rec for jobs like soldiers, engineers etc.

#Larry fic rec #my fic rec #blue collar workers

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ericleo108 · 5 months

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My Favorites 2023

Last Years: 2020, 2022

This is a list of my favorites. This started off as my favorite YouTube channels, but I have since expanded the list. I watch a lot of media over the internet. I still watch youtube every day. I do not have cable. I tend to gravitate to informative and educational content. As a hip-hop artist I watch a lot of rap-related content to keep my hand on the pulse of the culture. I have broken down my lists into categories. I still watch the posted YouTube clips from the night before late shows in the morning.

My Top Favorite (Late Night) TV Shows I watch on Youtube

Amber Ruffin

The Problem with John Stewart

Jimmy Kimmel

Stephen Colbert

Seth Meyers

Jimmy Fallon

The Daily Show

Last Week Tonight with John Oliver

Real Time with Bill Maher

It’s no longer hard to pick who my favorite late night tv show host is. If I had to pick between them I’d STILL pick Amber Ruffin. I’ve been missing John Stewart who does an excellent job of getting right to the heart of the problem. I like Kimmel’s dry sense of humor and Fallon’s antics. I’m really impressed with John Oliver’s program and Seth Meyers’s “A Closer Look” segment.

I have broken down my favorite YouTube channels into two categories, general, and farm. I watch a lot of farm-related content. Although I don’t think I want a farm even if I could afford one, I love watching the animals and farmers doing chores. I feel I get a different lived-experience when I watch these videos so I have the perspective of a farmer, which I’ve always wanted.

Top Five YouTube Farm Channels

Gold Shaw Farm

Urban rescue ranch

Just A Few Acres Farm

Justin Rhodes

Nate Petroski

Greg Judy Regenerative Rancher

Top Favorite YouTube Channels

Philip DeFranco

Leeja Miller

Adam Conover

HasanAbi

Democracy Now!

Mark Rober

Casey Neistat

How Ridiculous

Casual Geographic

Robert Reich

I don’t even watch Drama Alert anymore. Roman Atwood doesn’t hold my interest like it used to. I’d rather watch something with animals in it rather than explosions or rc cars. Mark Rober got knocked off his top spot. His videos are engaging and awesome but there is only one per month. I still watch Phil every day he posts a show. I don’t even watch the vlog squad anymore or Jason Nash. My interests are more sociological and news-oriented from the top.

I still watch an ASMR video every night to fall asleep. The one thing I can’t stand is when ASMR artists touch or poke the screen or their lens. It’s a pet peeve that gives me that cringe you get when looking into bright lights for too long. Some artists do it all the time, like FrivolousFox ASMR, which really prevents me from liking them although I want too.

Top YouTube ASMR Artists:

Ephemeral Rift

Dr. T

ASMR Zeitgeist

Hypnotic dreams

asmr_divinity

Dong

Trigger Happy ASMR

Peaches

Sophie Michelle

ASMR Bakery

Honorable mentions on tiktok

Asmr kenobi

Luke ASMR

Depending on the time of day determines what type of asmr video I watch. If it’s at night it has to be a dark background and a long video. If it’s during the day it can be brighter and shorter. ASMR Zeitgeist is still one of my favorites. I still think they are the Cadillac of ASMR. I have logged the most hours on my tv with Ephemeral Rift. Dr. T has great videos for naps, same with Hypnotic dreams tapping videos. Divinity has been giving ephemeral rift a run for his money as I have been using her videos more and more to fall alseep. I added ASMR Kenobi and Luke as honorable mentions who entertain and put me to sleep from tiktok.

Top 10 Hip-hop related content

Now we will get into the hip-hop-related favorites starting with dancing channels.

Top 5 Dancing Channels on Tiktok/Instagram

The Pitman Sisters

Cost and mayor

Party with Carly

The Begin sisters

The Song Twins

My current favorite rappers

LaRussell

Russ

Snoop Dogg

Connor Price

Gawne

Honorable mention:

Mike Posner

Top ten affiliated underground rappers

Headband Henny

Jay Matthews

Cmadd

Rich G

Zen Requium

Duce

Kurupt the killa

Gibson

Kharii

Mr. J

Honorable mentions:

Hundo music

Ardea

Lumi funk

I put Mike Posner as an honorable mention because he is one of my favorite artists, is from Michigan, but isnt a rapper. The top ten affiliated underground hoonorable mentions are Michigan artists that I know or work with. Hundo is a guitar player with a couple albums. Ardea is my producer’s artist moniker from Kalalmazoo Michigan. And Lumi funk is a funkadelic band from the UP who I went to school with the bassist.

Here are channels that are about hip-hop whether it be educational, entertainment or interviews. I did my top favorite commentary channels but Pat CC is the best, but he does documentary style commentary.

Favorite Hip-hop related content channels

Kyle Beats

Pat cc

Ocean

Hiphop dx

Big boys neighborhood

Curtis king

Brand man Sean

CrackaLacktv

Adam Ivy

Wendy day

Top 5 hip-hop commentary/reaction channels:

Hiphop madness

Anthony Fantano

Blacky speaks

Mattyballz

Louaista

Fantastic hiphop

Top 10 beat makers; I have a published song made to all of these

Tantu

Keyano

Ryini

Anno domini

That Kid Goran

Feniko

Destiny

Kylo

They Call Me Heat

Bb beats

Honorable mention:

RJ Pasin

I have made a song with all of the listed beat makers. RJ makes guitar samples, but I have a song from one of his samples that is currently doing well. Maybe next time I’ll have a list of sample makers. Like most independent artists, I only work with producers who I like their sound, so naturally they’re also my favorite. But if money was no object I left the list of unobtainable producers who are way outside my career and pay range. The last one is dead but arguably the most sought-after producer ever.

Top 10 Unobtainable Producers:

Dr. Dre

Pharrell

Timbaland

DJ Mustard

Swiss Beats

DJ Quik

Mike Will Make-it

Rick Rubin

The Alchemist

Just Blaze

No ID

J Dilla

#rap #rapper #hiphop #love #michigan #usa #favorites #youtube #producers #hip-hop

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lilsocksiswriting · 2 years

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Synopsis: Stuck in her hot, dusty small town again for the summer, Y/N makes it her sole mission to peg the loud and bright cattle rancher Kyojuro Rengoku. Rengoku thinks it’s just downright adorable that Y/N thinks that she can top him.

Table of Contents

Chapter One II Chapter Three

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: Dirty talk first thin in the morning, semi-public blow job, oral(reader receiving), hair pulling, praise kink

Warings: NSFW, No beta, Minors DNI

Normally you don’t mind getting up so early on weekends, but that was only because you had coffee or the fresh damp smell of outdoors to look forward to. The only coffee shop in town opens later on weekends which means that it was the farmers market with your mother first, then wake me up coffee after. Rengoku thinks you’re just too damn cute standing there amongst the crowd looking around a little lost and tired. You're dressed a lot more casually this time around in some high wasted shorts and a tee-shirt covered by oversized flannel. You hang onto the strap of a tote bag looking around for something.

Your mom likes to get fresh tomatoes and summer squash from the farmers' market, and you liked to get fresh honey, but the market has changed since the last them you came with your mom. There were a few new stalls and a lot more people. It takes you a minute to find Mrs. Henwell’s stall after your mother leaves to get her veggies. When Rengoku realizes where you’re heading the moseys his way through the crowd to join you.

“Morin’ Y/N!” he greets you in that boisterous and cheerful manner of his.

You look to the blonde who seems to have the same idea of keeping the morning humidity off his skin with a red pearl snap. It’s unbuttoned just enough to give anyone a peek at the hair on his chest and has the sleeves rolled up. He knows what the look is doing to your insides right? Regardless, you smile and tell Rengoku,” It’s way too early for you to be this happy.”

“Not when I get to see you first thing in the morning.”

“Smooth,” you admit, impressed.

“So, what brings you out to the farmer’s market?”

“I wanted to get homemade honey,” you nod your head to the mason jars that line the stall a few feet away for the two of you. The dark golden honey inside each sucking in the morning sun.

Rengoku moves to stand a little closer to you so that he can learn in and drop his voice. “Do you think their honey is as sweet as yours?”

You don’t give him any reaction, just a sly, “Is honey some sort of innuendo?”

“Oh, my apologies mam’. Guess I wasn’t clear enough. I was just wondering if I made you cum on my tongue, what it would taste like. Would it be sweet to like honey? Or savory? Would I do such a good job your essence would be dripin’ down my chin?”

Now, this does get a reaction out of you. Your face goes beat red in the middle of the crowd. Where the hell did, he pull that from? Rengoku only chuckles under his breath at your face. It’s so damn cute.

“Guess this puts me in the lead huh?”

A nice 1-2 now. “But not for long.”

“We’ll see about that darlin’. "

This smug piece of- you really need to find an adult store soon.

After the trip to the farmers market and some much-needed coffee, you had the rest of the day free. A whole day to do nothing as noting was pretty much the only thing to do in your hometown. Though, it has been a few days since you went out into the woods. You decide that it was time for another excursion. You pack a bag full of snacks and collections supplies, fill up your hydro-flask, tell your mom you would be back before it got dark, then set off.

The outdoors was always your favorite. The small patch of woods that lined the backside of your property held a special place in your heart as it was where you had come to realize your passion in life; bugs, fungi, and all the other ‘icky backbones of forests. Your favorite place in these woods was a dead tree trunk that had fallen over a knee-deep stream. You liked to rest on the trunk and dip your feet into the water while you ate a snack. Sometimes you listen to nature and just breathed. Other times you’d pop in your headphones and play an audiobook or podcast Listen to it completely alone and undisturbed.

On your way back to your house, you nearly run the web of a stunning, marbled orb weaver that had spun its home between to crocked fingers of a low-hanging branch. The reds and golds of its abdomen set artfully against the pink and orange sunset. The orb-weaver doesn’t remind you of the sunset or any sunset for that matter but rather the reds and golds of Rengoku’s eyes. They were beautiful just like the rest of him. You would never admit this to anyone though. You would simply tell them that the spider was a unique color though anyone in your field of study would know that marble orb-weaver came in an array of bright colors to attract prey to their webs

To humanly kill the marbled orb weaver and to preserve it for your collection, you would need a few supplies which means taking a trip with your mom when she went to the next town over to get groceries. You really didn’t want to go to Walmart for that same soulless feeling that Atwood’s gave you.

“I don’t know what you need so just come with me,” your mom tells you when you try to give her a list and your card. So, on the day after you found the marbled weaver it was off the Walmart.

There you spy your favorite cowboy pushing a cart down the grain aisle looking just as miserable as you and it makes you feel a little less like you were actively having your life force sucked from your body. He's so engrossed in the list had had in one hand. His cart was full of fresh produce and meats so far. Not a TV dinner insight. You’re glad that he seems to know how to cook. It means he knows how to take care of himself and of course he did. You had already seen him without his shirt. You can only imagine what his naked thighs look like. Actually, maybe you shouldn’t. Walmart was the last place you wanted to get turn on at.

Rengoku doesn’t notice you until you put your foot out and stop his cart.

Rengoku goes into full-on southern gentlemen mode when he feels the front of his cart bump into someone. He whips his head up from his list and an apology is already coming out of his mouth. “Ah, I’m sorry- Oh! Y/N. Fancy meeting you here.”

You nod to the Plaster of Paris and some generic brand of nail polish remover cradled in your arm and explain, “Found a really cool spider in the woods yesterday and wanted to add it to my collection but I needed some supplies.”

A spark flashes in Rengoku’s eye and suddenly his whole face is lighting up too. “Oh! That reminds me. I found mushrooms in the pastor yesterday evening and they glow!”

You reflect that same spark. “Really?”

“Yes. I can show you this evening if you'd like.”

“I’d love that. You barely ever see bioluminescent fungi around here.”

And it was as simple as that for Rengoku to get your cell phone number so that you can text him later to give him a heads up when you are coming over. You couldn’t go now. Leaving with Rengoku would be taken by your mom in a way and lead to annoying questions you didn’t feel like dealing with. Plus, it was the middle of the day. You couldn't see glowing mushrooms in the middle of the day. But you were eager to see them this evening and eager to be alone with the cowboy again. You tell yourself that this eagerness to be alone was sole because of this little game you two had going on. Nothing more.

For the same reason that you don’t tell your mom that you ran into Rengoku while getting your supplies, you don’t tell her where you’re heading out for the evening. You just lie and tell her you're going to have dinner with some friends. And she believes it. She’s suspicious of who these friends are but you are dressed like you going out for dinner at some local hole-in-the-wall place. Mabey, not the best for walking out in a pastor or woods but something that was still comfortable, nonetheless.

Rengoku is in the driveway waiting when you pull in. He tries to offer to carry the bag you’ve brought along with you, but you decline. You’ve been lugging the bag around whenever you’re out that you barely feel the weight on your shoulders as you and Rengoku walks you down a beaten ATV path that heads further into the pastor.

Rengoku is really smitten with you. There’s a warm heat in his chest as you two walk along. People have told him how handsome he looks when the sun catches in his hair and know finally he knows what they mean when he sees you. The way ate last rays of the summer shine in your hair and your smile that matches the brightness of the sun. Boy howdy, that smile was something.

Rengoku takes you to a fence line that divides his from the Smith’s pastor, his neighbors. A few Pecan trees have begun growing into the barb-wired fence and it's at the trunk of one of the trees a small colony of honey mushrooms grow You crouch down to take a closer look at the fungi while Rengoku remains standing leaning an elbow against a wooden fence post.

Rengoku asks you to tell him about honey mushrooms and you happily tell him all that you know. When you're done having a good look and explaining to the blonde what causes their glowing, Rengoku casually mentions some chicken he’s been slow cooking in a crockpot back at his house, and who are you to pass up a free home-cooked meal. Beside you had lied to your mother about going out to dinner so wouldn’t it be weird to show up back home hungry?

On the way back things are quieter and darker. In the new quiet you can make out distant voices. Rengoku can too and supplies, "My neighbors. They like to have a bonfire every now and then."

"Ah," you nod and would have left it at that if you hadn't remembered what the score is between the two of you and how flustered Rengoku can get in public when you are the one making a move on him. This would be the perfect place for that. The Smith’s couldn’t see too two through the tree line and overgrown bushes, but they might be able to hear Rengoku if he made too much noise.

Reaching out and slip your hands around one of his think forearms. "You know I should really thank you."

"Your company's worth it," he says. It’s too dark to make out his face but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest

You stay focused. With a little tug on his arm, you two stop in front of another pecan tree that. The trunk of this one has fully grown around the barbwire.

"Something wrong?" God bless him, he's actually worried that something may be wrong.

"I just want to thank you," you practically purr slipping off his arm and stepping to stand in front of the cowboy. Once you place your hand on his wide chest and give a little push to back him against the tree Rengoku quickly wises up.

"O-oh, you mean right here. Right now?" where his neighbors might be in earshot?

You shrug, "No time like the present, but if you think you're too much of a whiner…" you began to pull away, but his rushed voice stops you.

"No! I can stay quiet. The question is if you can thank me quietly."

You feel a smirk spread across your lips. "Is a challenge?"

He reflects on your smirk. "Well, I reckon it is."

Sinking to your knees you are even more determined to make the man above you into a moaning mess that would alert his neighbors. What did you care if they heard anyway? It's not like you had some kind of upstanding reputation to uphold as he did. You don't think it will be that hard to accomplish your goal either. You can feel him already getting hard through his jeans, knuckles brushing against the bulge as you unbuckle his belt ad unzip his jeans. When the heated flesh of his dick is met with evening air Rengoku takes in a sharp hiss of air through his teeth that seems louder than it actually is to the two of you.

Rengoku stares down at your figure in the dark, lips pressed in a thin line as you stroke him to full hardness staring back with a smile on your face he can barely make out. You hadn't forgotten how big and heavy Rengoku feels in your hand from the handy at the barn, but it still comes as a surprise to you. Kissing the tip, you have to wonder if you can take all of him. But before you would even try that you would make sure that his cock was all nice and wet to make the process easier.

Rengoku fails at staying quiet as you kiss and lick up and down his erection. Your tongue, the slight graze of your teeth your lips-they're just so soft and warm, and wet, and the fact that this was you down on your knees stroking his dick, making it slick with your sloppy kisses makes it that much hotter for him. The cowboy can't help but moan. He tries his best to make them as quiet as he can. The last thing he wanted was to gain the attention of his neighbors. They couldn't see either you to two thanks to the trees, but they would surely want to talk to their neighbor if they knew he was out here.

When you think that Rengoku's dick is wet enough you take one deep breath before easing it into your mouth. Rengoku lets out a shaky moan that he immediately cuts short too because of how loud it is. You are doing your best to not gag on his cock, but the reflex kicks in any way having the head of his cock bump the back of your throat over and over as you move your head.

The gags are at least quieter than the noises that Rengoku makes but that doesn't matter to the man you are sucking off. Every little noise that comes from you makes his dick throb which you can feel. His eye is still trained downward on you even though he can't make out the finer details of your face. He feels the way your throat squeezes around his dick every time you gag.

"Oh god damn, darlin’," Rengoku cursed under his breath.

Rengoku rips his cowboy hat off and cranes his head back towards the dark sky, head thumping against the tree. A sensible person would slap a hand over their mouth to stay quiet, but Rengoku's head was too clouded by the pleasure of a building orgasm. Instead, he digs the fingernails of his free hand into the bark of the trunk.

You can't seem to get adjusted to the girth of Rengoku's cock or the feeling of it sliding for the back of your throat as your jaw begins to ache. You dig your fingers in jeans around Rengoku's thighs as drool dribbles down your chin and your eyes water from the dull ache. All the while you think this is the first time you've been so turned on by giving a blow job.

The drool at least helps you move your lips up and down faster. Pressing your tongue into the underside is what finally pushes Rengoku over the edge.

"Oh fuck, darlin’ I'm cummin’. Cummin’," He declares in horsed whispers.

Under your fingertips, you feel Rengoku’s thighs flex as his cum spills down the back of your throat. You try your best to swallow it all, but when you stagger back to your feet slightly out of breath Rengoku catches a little smeared on your chin mixed in with drool. The sight makes his dick twitch, but he doesn't want to push his luck with his neighbors. So, he offers you a handkerchief from his back pocket before tucking himself back into his pants.

"So, what do you reckon cowboy?"

" I reckon that the score is even," Rengoku good-heartedly admits, not being able to be the least bit upset when he sees the faint outline of a triumphant and proud smile through the darkness.

Rengoku’s house is filled with the smell of chicken coming from the crockpot. Dinner was a lot like the cookies you two shared, the conversation was easy between you two. This time however you wanted to know about Rengoku’s line of work in the cattle business. He had heard your passion know it was time for you to hear his. Rengoku tells what he loves about raising cattle and oblivious to you he loves that you aren’t asking about the money side of things. Instead of letting him talk about what he wants to talk about. Rengoku can’t count how many dates he’s been on and one of the first questions that come up about the cattle business is related to how much money he makes.

You had a suspicion that this dinner was planned, no one could eat this much chicken. This did waver when you saw how much this man could eat, but it never left. You wonder what he was trying to butter you for. He didn’t seem like the type of guy to cook a nice meal because he thinks it means you’ll sleep with him.

Rengoku was planning something in particular. Something he hadn’t stopped thinking about since he said it to you at the farmer’s market. He chooses to bring it up after dinners are eaten and you and him are lounging on the couch, letting the food settle before you drive home.

“Shame I didn’t make dessert.”

You hum in agreement.

“Mabey you could help with that?”

This perks your interest, “Yea?”

“I’ve been wonderin’ how sweet you must taste since I brought it farmer’s market.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble but I’m not going to taste sweet.”

“Oh, so it’d be savory?” Rengoku asks already edging to slip himself off the couch.

“I wouldn’t say savory either,” you glance over at the other side of the couch and see how eager he is to eat you out. You can’t say no to that face, “But if pussy is your favorite dessert, I won’t deny you your favorite treat.”

Rengoku is between your legs in the next moment. With excited hands, he pulls at your jeans helping you shimmy out of them along with your underwear. You find that you like this position. Rengoku looks up from down in his knees, that bright expression of his full of eagerness. It was cute that the was so excited to go down on you. How could this man be both cute and arousing at the same time?

Rengoku breaks his stare to look down at your thighs which he’s spread apart with warm, rough hands. A wave of nerves suddenly comes down on you. You realize that you’ve never had a guy eats you out. You had a few flings at university, but it was the very vanilla kind of sex. Missionary and a few minutes longer in the darkness of a bedroom. What if he didn’t like what he saw? You should say fuck what he thinks. What do you care what some small-town cowboy thinks of your body?

Rengoku’s hands slip further up your thighs. He licks his lips in anticipation as he uses his thumb to spread part your lips. Your skin breaks out into goosebumps, and your mind goes blank. All worries were gone when you see to lustful gleam in Rengoku’s fiery eyes.

“Fuck, ain't that a pretty sight.”

You feel arousal coil in your gut. Her voice was deep and thick. Somehow hearing him curse was the most arousing thing so far.

“Ready?”

“What- yes. Just um, I’ve never done this before though so…” you trail off wondering if you needed to give him any more information, Maye it was better if you hadn’t. A part of you wondering if he was going to use that against you?

“So, I get to have the honor of being the first one to make of making you come undone like this?” he finishes for you which sparks that competitiveness again.

“Let’s let your mouth on my clit be the judged of that. Do you need help finding it cowboy?”

Rengoku dives right in instead of answering with any witty comeback. His mouth latches onto your clit. So, he does know where the clit is, good for him. He also knows how to run his tongue along it in a way that makes you see stars. Your toes curl and you sink further into Rengoku’s couch. Your hand finds themselves combing through Rengoku’s hair and tightening in fists when he’s spreading your lips wider and pausing his mouther further between them.

Rengoku breaks away. A sound slips out of his mouth that’s somewhere between a moan and a whimper. It reveals to you the weakness of his you can use to your advantage. Rengoku likes having his hair pulled. He doesn’t just like it, the way he looks up at you tells you that having his hair pulled can make him such a mess so fucking quickly.

“You like that?” you ask sweetly.

The hairband that holds Rengoku’s hair back out of his face slips out easily with a simple tug. you slip the band over your wrist for safekeeping. Running your fingers through his hair again holding his hair back as the hairband did. A firm grip lets Rengoku know who is in control now. You catch the way he slackens his jaw trembles.

“Yes. Fuck yes.”

“Well, then you better be a good boy and eat up every last drop I offer you.”

Rengoku’s dips his chin. “Yes mam’”

Oh, you could get used to this. just like you could easily get addicted to the way Rengoku’s mouth moves against you. The movements of his tongue are slow and methodical. The pleasure building was just as slow but maddening. You wanted to cum so bad. Begging Rengoku was on the tip of your tongue. But then you rack your nails over Rengoku’s scalp. you feel his desperate little moans against your heated skin reminding you that you were in control, and he was at your mercy. Eating you out was a treat for him that you could take away at any point if you thought he was being ungrateful. All it takes is a tug of his hair you’re holding back for Rengoku to pull away and look up at you. Oh yes, you could get used to this. Rengoku’s eyes were half-lidded, red pupils dilated. His breath was heavy, and his face flushed. His mouth was still open and smeared all around it gleaming the Livingroom’s light was the remints of your own arousal.

“Y/N?” Rengoku’s voice is breathless and confused. Why had you stopped him? Were you worried he needed to breathe? Wanted to get a good look at his face? Why did you want him to stop? He wants you to let him bury his face back between your thighs and stay there for hours.

You stay staring down at him a little longer just to gather your words so that your tone won’t give away that you were so fucking close to cuming and just as a mess of lust and desire as he was. “I thought I told you to take every last drop?”

“I- well there’s just so much darlin’, Practicality drownin’ in it,” He tries to come up with a good excuse. He even uses that pet name to try and cover-up that he felt like he had been caught doing something shouldn’t have been doing. God, this was such a power trip.

“Do I not taste good? You should have just said so,” Your voice has a bored tone to it. “We can stop if- “

“No!” the response was quick and panicked.

It makes a sly smile break out across your face. “Oh? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he says with three quick nods thinking he’s gotten off the hook.

“Then beg.”

That worried, I’m-in-trouble look is back.

“I won’t repeat myself,” you emphasize the point by tightening your grip.

A frustrated, albeit tiny, moan that was followed by his strained, pleading voice,” Please, Darlin let me taste you again. Fuuuuck, you just taste so God damn good. I want more, please. I pro- I promise I’ll be a good boy drink up everything.”

“You better,” You warn and loosen your grip just enough for Rengoku to smoosh his face back into your sopping wet pussy.

You gasp at the new vigor Rengoku has. His rough fingers dig deeper in your flesh as he eats you out like a starved man. He licks you up and down, tongue laid flat, so it slides against every spot between your folds that makes you gasp.

“That’s it, such a good boy.” You praise him for his eagerness to make you cum. Speaking of which, you feel a knot in your stomach begin to tighten again.

“Keep going, “You encourage pushing Rengoku’s head, “That’s it, right there, that’s its good boy.”

As you come undone and Rengoku continues to hold on to you as your body withers in delight, you hear the think gulps for the man. He’s swallowing down all the wetness he can. Being the good boy that he promised he would be.

When Rengoku pulls away he’s out of breath and smiling. You to stay like that for a long time as you come down from your high and Rengoku comes back to reality after being so engrossed in being face first between your legs pleasing you. You want to stay like this, you could. Just basking in Rengoku’s beauty when he’s like this.

“Well, damn darlin’,” the cowboy chuckles, his voice rough and blissful “Two points in one night. I gotta step up me game.”

“You can try to. Here, let me pull your hair back. You won’t get all winey and moany again, will you?”

He shrugs, “Only one way to find out.”

Rengoku lets you pull his hair back into his pick tail. His hair was so much softer than it looks, and you wonder what sort of hair protect he uses. Which leads you to wonder what he looks like in the shower, soapy suds sliding down his body. You think about anything else before your thoughts get too far into making you too horny again.

Rengoku walks you out to your car and kisses you on the cheek goodnight. Your heart flutters and you feel giddy for the rest of the drive home. But even with a goofy smile on your face, you feel confused. You thought Rengoku was just like every other guy from your town- every other person. The charm and manners were all a façade. It was all to hide h the real nastiness, the way everyone hated you for being different from what they have been used to for generations. Rengoku wasn’t hiding anything from you. He may look like a very handsome personification of what you hated most about the small town, but he wasn’t anything like most of the people here. Rengoku actually makes you like it here.

#rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #kyojurou x reader #demon slayer kyojuro #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #privet stacks

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love-bokumono-fics · 3 years

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Tage Tuesday - Angst!

I don't know about you guys, but I do love me some sweet, sweet angst. And I know the fandom does because Angst is the 4th most popular tag on AO3 😂 Let's take a look this week at some of the fics that feature the heart wrenching angst we all love so much. lives, lived - by nayt0reprince; Complete, 1/1, 2k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: Gen Fandoms: Friends of Mineral Town Characters: Kappa, Grandfather Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Character Study, Character Death, Mild Angst Summary: as always, a cucumber lands in kappa's lake. but this time, it's different. Ember - by CottonCandyMareep; Complete, 1/1, 1.6k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: F/M Fandoms: Animal Parade Relationship: Hikari | Molly/ Ignis | Harvest King; Characters: Hikari | Molly, Ignis | Harvest King, Sephia | Harvest Goddess Additional Tags: Tragedy, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Death Summary: His blaze would always burn, eternally bright; in contrast, her warmth would gradually fade away, a fleeting escape reminiscent of the last few dying embers of a once brilliant flame. The Mineral Town Tales Collection - by AccidentallyTheWholeFanfic; Complete, 10/10, 9k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: Major Character Death; Categories: Multi, Gen Fandoms: Back To Nature, Friends of Mineral Town Relationships: Anna/Basil, May/Stu, Jack/Mary, Lillia/Zack, Ellen/Greg, Sasha/Jeff, Duke/Manna, Louis/Bees; Characters: Anna, Kai, Gray, Barley, Pastor Carter, May, Stu, Sasha, Jeff, Jack, Mary, Lillia, Zack, Rick, Popuri, Duke, Manna, Doug, Kano, Greg, Louis, Harris, Won, Thomas, Gotz Additional Tags: General, Romance, Drama, Angst, Character studies, prompt, One-Shots, Family, Friendship, Alcoholism, Marital Strife, Humor Summary: A series of prompt-based shorts about the people of Mineral Town, with a focus on some of the more underappreciated characters. Each short is written in a half-hour or less, based on selected words suggested by the readers. Clarity - by BabyChocoboAlchemist; Complete, 1/1, 1.3k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Categories: F/M, M/M Fandoms: Trio of Towns Relationships: Ludus/FeMC, Mentioned Wayne/MC, FeMC/Ford; Characters: Ludus, Female Protagonist Additional Tags: Angst, Romance, Unrequited Love?, Love Triangle Summary: Elena of Happybell Farms has been leading a peaceful, happy life with her brother Bradley. Farming, making friends with the wonderful townsfolk, and bearing the biggest crush on Doctor Ford has all made for some pretty awesome adventures-but she finds out she's been completely oblivious to a very precious friend's feelings. Summer's End, a Letter, and Three Months - by Crazy_Pairing_Person; Complete, 1/1, 2k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Categories: Gen, M/M Fandoms: Friends of Mineral Town Relationships: Kai/Rick, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Gray/Pete | Jack, Popuri & Rick, Pete | Jack & Rick; Characters: Rick, Kai, Popuri, Minor Characters, Gray, Pete | Jack Additional Tags: Bisexuality, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Letters, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Oblivious, Feelings, Emotions, Ambiguous/Open Ending Summary: One summer, the summer after the new farmer Pete arrives, Kai arrives, just as always. And just as always, he leaves at the end… But this time, he leaves behind a letter, and a promise to Rick that he will have three months to consider his response to what is written within. Messages In a Bottle - by MOcarina; Complete, 1/1, 2k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandoms: Friends of Mineral Town Relationship: Claire/Rick; Characters: Rick, Claire Additional Tags: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Family, Pregnancy Summary: Ever since Rick's father left, he wrote him letters and sent them to sea. Sugary sweet, trope-y goodness. The Game - by Lunetta_Lolita; WIP, 11/?, 69k Rating: Teen And Up

Audiences; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Categories: F/M, M/M Fandom: Story of Seasons Relationships: Mistel/Minori, Klaus/Iris; Characters: Fritz, Lillie, Agate, Raeger Additional Tags: Romance, Drama, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Jealousy, Some Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension Summary: Mistel wasn't too happy about it, but he couldn't help but to be infatuated with the new farm girl. Everyone knew it, even his sister. Apparently Fritz was oblivious, as always, and had kissed the girl-and Mistel seen it. Now she was acting unlike herself, flirting with him as she had never done before. Was this just a game to her? Was she trying to break his heart? Mistaken - by Mewsea; WIP, 4/?, 11k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: M/M Fandom: Story of Seasons Relationship: Fritz/Raeger; Characters: Raeger, Fritz, Other(s) Additional Tags: Romance, Fluff, Too much fluff, Shit-ton of fluff, Enough fluff to kill you, some drama, Some angst, Some Humor Summary: Fritz has grown quite fond of Oak Tree's most renowned chef, Raeger, and would like nothing more than to be with him. But... There are always complications when one is in love... And more often than not, it can all be very, very confusing... I Am Worthy of Happiness - by sailorstars; Complete, 1/1, 6k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: F/M Fandoms: Animal Parade Relationships: Gill/Hikari Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, anxiety attack, Minor Character Death, Fluff, Romance, Recovery, Children Summary: When Gill's mother died he thought his life was completely over. His best friend and hero had left him forever. His entire perspective of the world, along with his heart, had shattered. He spent his days depressed and longing for a life that was not his own or no life at all. However, when the new rancher Hikari came to town, Gill realized he wanted a true happiness he thought he was no longer able to obtain. But no recovery is easy and with Hikari there to lend a helping hand, Gill learns to stand on his own two feet again and beat the traumas of his past. musings of a dog - by dreamnants; Complete, 3/3, <1k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: Gen Fandoms: Trio of Towns Character: Woofio | Wanta-tan Additional Tags: yes i am woofio trash, i'll be in the trash can if needed, oh right actual tags, Angst, spoilers for Woofio's events in all of these Summary: Small, innocent ones or dark, life-changing ones, those are the natures of the secrets people hide from others. Woofio the dog-costumed animal trainer is an individual of the latter category.

#tag tuesday #harvest moon #story of seasons #trio of towns #friends of mineral town #animal parade #sos1 #back to nature

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introvertguide · 4 years

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Shane (1953); AFI #45

The next film on the AFI list for review is the 1953 western Shane. This movie was nominated for six Academy Awards winning for Best Cinematography. The movie does not really seem like that much of a standout now, but the theme and shades of grey as far as who was good and who was bad was innovative at the time. As discussed in previous posts, the movie was also innovative with the actual presentation, a beauty that was hidden by poor tube TV technology but now apparent with large flat screens and HD technology. The beauty of the presentation also made up for some other rather funny problems with the movie that I would like to go over, but let us do a brief plot synopsis before getting too far:

SPOILER WARNING! NOT A LOT OF STORY BUT BE WARNED ANYWAY!!

The film is set in post Civil War homestead Wyoming. A gunslinger named Shane (Alan Ladd) just shows up at a homestead in a valley and asks for a drink of water. The family there is made up of Joe Starrett (Van Hefflin), his wife Marion (Jean Arthur), and their son Joey (Brandon deWilde). If you forget the gunslinger’s name, don’t worry, it is said almost 200 times in the movie with 40 of those times from little Joey. Right as Shane is about to move along, some ranchers come by to harrass the Starretts in an attempt to make them move. Apparently the ranchers were there first and they think of the homesteaders as pig farmers who came and squatted on the land. This is the whole point of contention for the movie: ranchers don’t like homesteaders and the ranchers try to buy out or bully the homesteaders off of the land.

There is a small bar and trading post for supplies, but there is no law enforcement for miles meaning the two groups made up of about 7 ranchers vs. 6 or 7 homestead families have to work things out amongst themselves. Tempers are hot already when Shane arrives and he makes it worse by taking on the whole team of ranchers in the local little town. The leader of the ranchers is a man named Ryker (Emile Meyer) and he comes by to “reason” with Shane and the Starretts. He actually makes some really good points about fighting off the natives and settling the lands long before the homesteaders came along. Joe says he is not going anywhere and will not be intimidated.

The fight with Shane has given the homesteaders more resolve to stay so Ryker hires a gunslinger named Jack Wilson played by the incredibly awesome Jack Palance. This character is 100% badass and absolutely brilliant. One of the other homesteaders goes into down and is baited into a fight by Wilson and the gunslinger shoots him dead with one shot. This is too much and Joe Starrett decides to go in and face Ryker. This is a bad idea, however, since Ryker intends to set a trap for Starrett since Joe is the leader of the homesteaders and Ryker wants to kill him. Shane is warned of the trap and he knocks out Joe and goes to town to take on Ryker and the gunman.

Shane is followed by little Joey and the family dog (who keep up with a man on a horse somehow) to town and Shane goes into the saloon to face the trap. He successfully outguns Wilson, Ryker, and the bartender. On the way out, little Joey sees a gun at the top of the stairs and yells to Shane. Shane is able to shoot the man but is shot himself. Shane walks outside and sees Joey and says goodbye and thanks for the warning, then rides off into the night ending the movie.

The are many differences between this film and the “standard western.” One is that guns are not favored at all and a total of only 10 shots are fired in the entire film. The first shots are not even fired until almost an hour in. Another difference is that the lead bad guy has a good motivation to not like the homesteaders and he has legitimate grievances. He has tried to be reasonable and it seems like these people are squatting on his land and screwing up his cattle drives. Starrett has a good heart, but he also seems to be stubborn and prideful. Even Shane is a gunslinger and, despite not having a backstory, implies that he has blood on his hands from the past. Yet another smaller thing is that there is no happy ending with the hero riding into the sunset. Shane is wounded in the gunfight and he rides off into the night to die for all that the audience knows.

There are a couple things that are kind of laughable that make me love this film. 1) Alan Ladd plays Shane and he is rather short at 5′6″ and this is hidden throughout the movie. Either he is standing on something or the other actors are standing in a ditch in an effort to make him seem bigger. There are also a lot of upward camera angles to make him seem taller that unintentionally improved the cinematography. A very happy accident indeed. 2) Jean Arthur was actually pulled out of retirement to play a character that was supposed to be some 20 years younger than the actress was. The soft filter, pancake make-up, and loose clothing does not help much in disguising the early 50s Jean Arthur as the part of early 30s Marion. 3) Jack Palance had never learned to ride a horse well and needed help getting on and off. There is one scene where he gets off the horse very gingerly and then he was unable to get back on. If you look closely, they had to use the footage of him getting off the horse in reverse to complete the scene. 4) Alan Ladd could not shoot. The only shots of him actually shooting with his face clearly in the picture are the practice shots when showing Joey how to shoot (took over 100 takes by the way) and the last shot when he shoots the man on the balcony (where Ladd clearly shoots way too early that would have put the bullet into the ground 3 feet in front of him but the man on the balcony falls anyway).

I want to point out the costumes being especially authentic looking. Everything fits pretty poorly and looks rather dirty. It’s perfect. The costumes were made by the great costume designer Edith Head, pretty much the best in the business with 8 Academy Awards over her 30 year career. It was pointed out to me, though, that Marion wears her wedding dress to the little 4th of July party and that is very out of place.

So should this film be on the AFI list? Absolutely. It was innovative for the time and the cinematography was so ahead that technology is finally catching up with it. The movie marks a branching out from the standard western as portraying gun violence as a terrible thing. All around fantastic. Would I recommend it? Oh yes. This is one of my favorite movies on the top 100 because it is gorgeous to look at with lots of little things to find. It is a fun western without the standard message and the best villain played by Jack Palance. I highly recommend checking this film out and look to see if Alan Ladd blinks while shooting and Jack Palance attempting to navigate a horse. Absolutely brilliant.

#movie mistakes #afi top 100 #westerns #alan ladd #jack palance #shane #movies #film review #50s #wyoming #homestead #classic film #introvert #introverted

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loretranscripts · 5 years

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Lore Episode 14: The Others (Transcript) - 7th September 2015

tw: death of children, childhood illness

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

No one likes to be alone. Even introverts need to come out for air every now and then, and experience human contact. Being around others has a way of calming our souls, and imparting a bit of safety, even if only in theory. But sometimes, even crowds of people and scores of friends can’t fight the crippling feeling that we are, in the end, isolated and alone. Humans have become very good at chasing away that feeling, though. When darkness threatens to cut us off from the world around us, we discovered fire, and then electrical lights. We use technology today to help us stay connected to friends and relatives who live thousands of miles away, and yet the feeling of loneliness grows deeper every year. We’ve learnt to harness tools to fight it, though. In ancient cultures, in the days before Facebook and the printing press, if you can fathom that, society fought the feeling of being alone with story. Each culture developed a set of tales, a mythology and surrounding lore, that filled in the cracks. These stories explained the unexplainable, they filled the dark night with figures and shapes, and they gave people, lonely or not, something else to talk about – something other. Some tales were there to teach; some preached morals through analogy; others offered a word of warning or a lesson that would keep children safe. In the end, though, all of them did something that we couldn’t do on our own: they put us in our place. They offer perspective. It might seem like we’re at the top of the food chain, but what if we’re not? From the ancient hills of Iceland and Brazil, to the black-top streets of urban America, our fascination with the “others” has been a constant, unrelenting obsession. But while most stories only make us smile at the pure fantasy of it all, there are some that defy dismissal. They leave us with more questions than answers, and they force us to come to grips with a frightening truth: if we’re not alone in this world, then we’re also not safe. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

In Greek Mythology, we have stories of creatures that were called the Pygmy. The Pygmies were a tribe of diminutive humans, smaller than the Greeks, who were often encountered in battle, and these stories have been around for thousands of years. We even have images of Pygmy battles on pottery found in tombs dating back to the 5th century BC. 1st century Roman historian, Pliny the Elder, recorded that the Pygmies were said to go on annual journeys from their homeland in the mountains. They would arm themselves for battle and climb onto their rams and goats, and ride down to the sea, where they would hunt the cranes that nested at the shore. In South America, there are tales of creatures called the Alux, a figure of Mayan mythology. They said to be between one to two meters tall, hairless, and dressed in traditional Mayan clothing. Like the Pukwudgies of the Native American tribes of North America, the Alux are said to be troublemakers, disrupting crops and wreaking havoc. According to tradition, the Alux will move into an area every time a new farm is established. Mayan farmers were said to build small, two-storey houses in the middle of their cornfields, where these creatures would live. For the first seven years, the Alux would help the corn grow and patrol the fields at night. Once those seven years were up, however, they turned on the farmers, who would put windows and doors on the little houses to trap the creatures inside. The ancient Picts of the Orkney Islands, off the north-eastern tip of Scotland, spoke of a creature they called the Trow, or sometimes, the Drow. They were small, humanoid beings, described as being ugly and shy, who lived in the mounds and rock outcroppings in the surrounding woods. Like many of the other legends of small people around the world, the Trow were said to be mischievous. In particular, they were said to love music - so much, in fact, that it was thought that they kidnapped musicians and took them back to their homes so that they could enjoy the music there. In addition, it was common for the people of Shetland to bless their children each Yule day as a way of protecting them from the Trow. Nearby, in Ireland, there are tales of similar creatures, small and hairless, called the Púca. The Púca are said to stand roughly 3ft tall, and like the Trow, they too live in large, stone outcroppings. According to legend, they can cause trouble and chaos within a community, so much so that the local people have developed traditions meant to keep them happy.In Country Down, for instance, farmers still to this day leave behind a “Púca’s share” when they harvest their crops. It’s an offering to the creatures, to keep them happy and ward off their mischief. But the Púca isn’t unique to Ireland. In Cornish mythology, there’s a small, humanlike creature known as the Bucca, a kind of hobgoblin. Wales is home to a similar creature with a reputation as a trickster goblin. It was said to knock on doors and then disappear before people inside opened them. And in France, a common term for stone outcroppings and megalithic structures is pouquelée. Oh, and if you’re a fan of Shakespeare’s play “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, you might remember the character Puck, the clever and mischievous elf. The name Puck, it turns out, is an Anglicization of the mythical creature, Púca, or Puck. I’ll stop, but I think you get the point. There doesn’t seem to be a culture in the world that hasn’t invented a story about smaller people, the “others” that live at the periphery of our world. It’s not surprising, either – many of these cultures have a deep history of invading nations, and that kind of past can cause anyone to spend a lot of time looking over their shoulder. These stories are deep, and often allegorical; they mean something, sure, but they aren’t rooted in reality. No one has captured a Púca or taken photographs of an Alux stepping out of its tiny, stone building. But that doesn’t mean there’s no evidence. In fact, there are some legends that come a lot closer to the surface than you might have thought possible - and that might not be a good thing.

The Shoshone tribe of Native Americans that live in the Rocky Mountains have been there for thousands of years. Their lands span much of the countryside around the Rockies, but they also built seasonal homes, up high in the mountains, sometimes 10,000ft above sea level. One of the Shoshone legends is that of a tribe of tiny people, known as the Nimerigar. One story tells of a man who rode up a small trail into the Wind River Mountains to check on his cattle. While he was travelling the narrow path, one of these creatures stepped out and stopped him. This was his trail, the little man said, and the rancher couldn’t use it anymore. The man ignored the tiny person and continued on toward his cattle, and this angered the Nimerigar. The tiny creature took aim with his bow and fired a poisonous arrow at the man’s arm. From that day on, the story goes, the rancher was never able to use his arm again. The Nimerigar are just myth, or at least that’s what most people think. But in 1932, that perception changed, when two prospectors, Cecil Mayne and Frank Carr, found a mummy in a cave in the Pedro Mountains of Wyoming. They said it had been sitting upright on a ledge in the cave, as if it had been waiting for them. The mummy was small (honestly, it’s only about six inches tall), but had the proportions of an adult. The two men had found it on a ledge, sitting upright, mummified by the dry Wyoming climate. After its discovery, the mummy changed hands a number of times. Photographs were taken, as well as an x-ray, but by 1950, it had vanished, never to be seen again. In 1994, after an episode of Unsolved Mysteries asked viewers to help them locate the missing mummy, a second mummy came to light. This one was a female, with blonde hair, but it was roughly the same size, and also from a mountain cave. This time, medical experts were able to study it, and what they discovered was shocking: it wasn’t an adult after all, it was an infant that had been born with a condition known as Anencephaly, which explained the adult-like proportions of the body and head. Like the first mummy, this second one disappeared shortly after the examination, and the family who owned it vanished with it.

Halfway around the world, in Indonesia, there are stories of small, humanlike creatures called the Ebu gogo. Even though their name sounds a lot like a Belinda Carlisle cover band, these creatures were said to strike fear in the hearts of the neighbouring tribes. According to the story, the Ebu gogo had flat noses and wide mouths, and spoke in short grunts and squawks. They were known to steal food from the local villages, and sometimes even children, and apparently one of these incidents from the 1800s led to an extermination. The Nage people of Flores, Indonesia, claimed that generations ago, the Ebu gogo stole some of their food, and the Nage people chased them to a cave, where they burnt them all alive - all but one pair, male and female, that managed to escape into the woods. The stories are full of imagination and fantasy, but in the end, they might hint at something real. In 2003, archaeologists discovered human remains in a Flores cave. The remains, dubbed Homo Floresiensis, weren’t ordinary, though. They were small adults, very small in fact, at just one meter tall. They were nicknamed hobbits, if that helps you picture them. Small people, found in a cave near the Nage tribe of Flores. It seems like the stories were proving true. The trouble was the age of the remains. The oldest skeletons clocked in at around 38,000 years old, and the youngest at about 13,000. In other words, if the Nage actually had attacked a tribe of tiny people, it had happened a lot more than a handful of generations ago. Unless you believe them, that is – in that case, the stories hint at something darker, that the Ebu gogo were in fact real, that they might still inhabit the forests of Flores, and that ultimately, the stories were telling the truth. It sounds enticing. In fact, I think anyone would be fascinated by such a notion. Unless, that is, these stories were about something in your own backyard.

On the night of April 21st, 1977, a man named Billy Bartlett was driving through the town of Dover, Massachusetts, with two of his friends. On Farm Street, they began to drive past a low, rough stone wall that was well-known to the locals. As they did, Billy noticed movement at the edge of his vision, and turned to see something on the wall unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was a creature, with a body the size of a child’s, long, thin limbs, elongated fingers and an oversized, melon-shaped head. Billy claimed it was hairless, and that the skin was textured. He even reported that it had large, orange-coloured eyes. Billy later sketched a picture of the thing he had seen, and then added a note to the bottom of the page: “I, Bill Bartlett, swear on a stack of Bibles that I saw this creature”. A whole stack of Bibles, you say. Well, alright then. Something like this probably happens every year – somewhere in the world, someone sees something weird, their mind twists their memories, and all of a sudden, they think they encountered Abraham Lincoln in a hot tub. But Billy’s story had some added credibility. You see, just two hours after he saw… whatever it was that he saw, 15-year-old John Baxter was walking home from his girlfriend’s house, about a mile from Farm Street. He claimed that he saw something walking down the street toward him. According to him, it was roughly the size and shape of a small child, and when the figure noticed him, though, it bolted for the woods. John, being a highly intelligent teenager with powerful decision-making skills, decided that midnight was the perfect time to chase something strange into the woods, and so he followed after it. What happened next was a literal, over-the-river-and-through-the-woods chase. When Baxter finally stopped to catch his breath, though, he looked up to see that the creature was standing beside a tree just a few yards away from him, watching him. That’s the moment when common sense took over, and John ran for his life. Later that night, he drew a sketch of what he had seen. He also told the police about it. He described a creature that had the body of a child, a large, oval-shaped head, thin arms and legs and long fingers. On their own, each of these sightings could have been easily dismissed by the authorities, but together, they presented a powerful case. Still, any chance of their similarity being labelled a coincidence vanished less than 24 hours later. 15-year-old Abby Brabham and 18-year-old Will Taintor were out for a drive on Springdale Avenue in Dover, when they saw something at the side of the road, near a bridge. It was on all fours, but both of the claim they got a very good look at it, and each of them described the creature as hairless and child-sized, with an overly large head and long, thin limbs.

Three separate events, spanning two nights, three unique sightings, yet one seemingly impossible description, each captured in eerily similar sketches. There were small discrepancies regarding the colour of the creature’s eyes, but outside of that, the consistency was astounding. Each of these eyewitnesses had seen something they couldn’t explain, and each of them seemed to have observed the same thing. What I find most fascinating, though, is that nearly 30 years later, in 2006, the Boston Globe interviewed Billy Bartlett, and he’s never wavered from his story. He’s experienced embarrassment and ill treatment because of it over the years, of course, but though he’s clearly transformed from a teenager who saw something into a responsible, middle-aged adult, that maturity hasn’t chased his testimony away, no matter how fantastical it might sound. They’ve called it the “Dover Demon” ever since that week in 1977. Others have since come forward with similar sightings. One local man, Mark Sennott, said he had heard rumours in his high school in the early 70s of something odd in the woods. Sennott even claimed that he and some friends observed something odd near Channing Pond in 1972 that fits the description from these later reports. Channing Pond, mind you, is right beside Springdale Avenue, where Taintor and Brabham said they saw their Dover Demon. Clearly, something was in those woods. Like most legends, this one will continue to cause debate and speculation. There have been no more sightings since 1977, but even still, the Dover Demon has left an indelible mark on the town and the surrounding area.

It’s true, we don’t like to be alone, but I think in the process of creating the stories that have kept us company for centuries, humanity has also created convenient excuses. All of these human-like creatures have acted as a sort of stand-in for human behaviour and accountability. In an effort to absolve ourselves from the horrible things we’ve done, we seem to instinctively invent other beings on which we can set the blame. But what if the others really were there, long before we wove them into our stories? What if they were less an invention, and more a co-opting of something we didn’t fully understand? Perhaps in our effort to shift the blame, we altered the source material a bit too much, and in doing so we buried the truth under a mountain of myth. There have been countless theories surrounding the 1977 sightings in Dover. Some think it was a type of extra-terrestrial known as a “grey”; others have actually suggested that it was just a baby moose. I know, that does seem like an odd way to explain it – only two moose sightings were recorded in Massachusetts in 1977, and both of those were out in the western part of the state, far from Dover. Add in the fact that a yearling moose weighs more than 600lbs and I think that it’s clear that this theory just won’t hold up. But there’s a different and more textured theory to consider. If you remember, Billy Bartlett saw the Dover Demon sitting on an old stone wall on Farm Street. Well, just beyond that wall is a large, stone outcropping that the locals have always called “The Polka Stone”. Some think that the stone’s nickname is a mispronunciation of a different word, though. The original name, they say, was the Pooka Stone. It could just be folklore, perhaps the tall tales of an early Irish settler, told to a group of children around the foot of an enormous rock. Unfortunately, we’ll never know for sure, but if you really want to see for yourself, you’re always welcome to head over to Dover, and take a drive down Farm Street. The wall, and the woods beyond, are still there, still dark, and still ominous. Just be careful if you travel there at night – you never know what you might see at the edge of your headlights.

This episode of Lore was produced by me, Aaron Mahnke. You can learn more about me and the show, as well as info about live events, episode transcripts and more, over at lorepodcast.com, and be sure to follow along on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram, @lorepodcast. This episode of Lore was made possible by you fine listeners, [Insert sponsor break]. And finally, your ratings and reviews on iTunes make all the difference for this show, so please take a moment today to fill one out. You can find links to help you do that at lorepodcast.com/support. If you want to help this show even more, Lore is on Patreon – that’s a platform that allows fans to support their favourite creations with monthly donations. And if you want more Lore in your life, backers at the $5 level get access to two extra, ad-free, brand new episodes each month that aren’t in this podcast feed. They’re short and sweet, but they’re fully produced and beautiful to listen to. Of course, I’m biased, but you’ll have to take my word for it. Just visit patreon.com/lorepodcast to sign up today and start enjoying new Lore episodes. Thanks for listening.

#lore podcast #podcasts #aaron mahnke #pygmy #trow #puca #puck #nimerigar #ebu gogo #san pedro mountains mummy #dover devil #folklore #uk #ireland #indonesia #wyoming #massachusetts #transcripts #14

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kingmaker-thac0hno · 4 years

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The Kingdom of Thornvale: Brasse’s Brewery and Biergarten

The month of Calistril, 4711 Early in the month of Calistril, The Lords of Thornvale post their monthly edict for all to see, comiting to the construction of a brewery and mill along the banks of the Shrike river near Haven. Herr Brasse is clearly excited, and the other villagers are eager to have more of his tasty brews. Many are eager to focus on something other than their growling stomachs.

Shortly after hearing the petitions of their subjects, the Lords of Thornvale convene a meeting in Havenhall to discuss recent events. Evrin springs forward to give a rousing speech to the crowd on the noble principles the Kingdom was founded on, but it sounds more like a reprimand to the folk gathered. He then turns to the three accused militia and makes his ruling for punishment. The sharp intake of breath can be heard audibly from the crowd gathered, and the men's faces turn white. They're escorted outside, and their punishment meted out before the crowd.

Near the end of the punishment, a commotion from the gathered villagers arises, with many of the commoners trading harsh words. "Serve's em right!" shout some. "How they supposed to protect us on empty bellies?" yell others. "Take the justice from their hide!" and "You have what you hold!" echo in the streets. It's clear that the village is split evenly, with many of the former brevic subjects favoring punishment, while many of the native riverlanders seeing nothing wrong with what had been done. [Persuasion: 7 vs. DC 20] The commotion nearly spills into an all-out brawl until Saryn speaks up.

His honeyed words soothes the gathered villagers, while the three ex-militiamen are taken away. Promises to deal with the cause of the recent slayings are met with nods of approval, though some in the back yell out "Oathbreakers Die!", a reference to the river freedom of the same name. Still, the crowd seems appeased, at least for a while. The mention of a council of commoners sets them chattering, and calls for individuals to be nominated nearly drown out Saryn himself. It is clear they will take some time deciding. [Persuasion: 20 vs. DC 20]

While Armauk leads Haven's collection of wild horses west, Karis and Saryn set off east, journeying at least part of the way together. While Karys continues on to Varnhold, Saryn stops to speak with the Sootscale Kobolds. Chief Sootscale welcomes his old friend and recounts stories of the Seven Veils festival several months ago, smiling as he does so. He listens intently as Saryn articulates his proposal to join the Kingdom of Thornvale. The Chief takes his time in responding.

"The Sootscales owe you much, this is true. But If I bow to you, how will my clan still look up to me? Stronger together, this I know. But I will not give up my throne. Make me a Lord of Thornvale, and I can agree. As equals, you and me. " The Chief looks at Saryn, and for a moment the dragon nature of his kin shines in his eyes. "But I ask one thing in exchange. The purple shaman, who has caused me much shame. I want his head. Deliver it to me, and we will make our pact before Aspu and Dahak." [Persuasion: 11 vs. DC 10]

Meanwhile, Stone Walker and Evrin remain in Thornvale, each tending to little details of the kingdom. Nole, Revna, and Angus are grateful for some relief from their duties, taking time in Havenhall to share drinks with some of the loggers in town. Most of the villagers are starting to accept the little gnome as well, and see his services increasingly handy.

Armauk, having arrived at Bennet Plantation, has a good conversation with Periwimple about cattle and ranching, where the seasoned farmer lays out some facts. "I'm no rancher, Lord Priest. If you're asking me to look after a herd of cattle, I'll do my best, but me and the boys here can't cultivate these Fangberries and manage a free-range herd all at once. I certainly don't have any feed to keep them penned in. Plus, most of these boys are city boys from Restov and are just learnin' how to keep the dang bushes alive, so I'm spending much of my time now teaching them what I can so they're useful come spring. If you're going to go north for more folk and you want cattle, then I'd say look for a seasoned vaquero lookin to start his own ranch, then dangle him an offer he can't refuse."

The next few days, Armauk spends working with the horses, who appear much more receptive out away from the village, though it does appear that they would adapt better from longer, consistent training [Handle Animal: 16 vs DC 15]. One evening, after poking around in the woods, Armauk discovers the old Thylacine pacing the perimeter of the plantation, no doubt drawn by the smells of food. After a brief chat, and an offer of some jerky, the animal follows the half-orc back to the farm, and continues to follow him on his journey [Survival: 19 vs DC 10].

At some point early in the month, Saryn returns to Haven, passing through as he heads west. Stone Walker joins him on a trip out to the new Bennet Plantation, where they join up with Armauk and spend some time looking into the woods near the murder site. Poking around, Saryn notices no sign of fey presence in this part of the wood [Perception: 21 vs. DC 10], though Armauk does see old wolf tracks heading south from the body, which simply disappear after about a half mile [Survival: 24 vs. DC 10]. Stone Walker, snooping about, notices a few broken tree branches nearby, and some human footprints in the now-covered ground, heading east for a bit before they vanish among the windswept hilltops of the Kamelands. [Investigation: 12 vs. DC 10]

After many days of travel, Karis finally arrives in Varnhold. [Survival: 13 vs. DC 10] The trip, while easy, was cold and the mountain pass especially so. The warm fire of Varnhold's largest inn is a welcome sight, and Karis is able to wander though a thriving, bustling town. The town is well-fortified with palisades, towers, and a large wooden fort on the eastern side of the Kiravoy River, which the town straddles. A well-armed garrison defends the town, which seems to have built a fairly successful economy around mining in the nearby mountains. While it's not difficult to see that Varnhold's strength clearly outpaces Thornvale's, Karis is unsuccessful in identifying any potential targets in the chain of command, aside from a brief glimpse of Lord Varn himself, spotted on the battlements of the fort. [Investigation: 9 vs. DC 20]

After several days, Karis departs for Restov and returns under the disguise of a troubadour, revisiting the same inn. The proprietor of the inn is happy to have a new entertainer, and the crowd thoroughly enjoys his tales of Haven and Thornvale, of worgs and the Stag Lord. Most nights, he is able to sleep and eat his fill from the coin passed to his hat, with plenty extra for his pocket. [Performance 19 vs. DC 15]. Murmurs among the revelers seem to indicate a newfound interest in travelling west once the weather turns. After a few days of spreading the good word, Karis heads west to Haven, braving the cold and snow once again.

By mid-month, Armauk has set off north to Restov with a wagon and some villagers tired of the tensions in Haven. They take few provisions, but many furs, choosing to hunt as they head north [Survival 20 vs. DC 20].. After a brief stop near the site of Oleg's Trading post to plant a sign pointing south reading "KINGDOM OF THORNVALE, CITY OF HAVEN", the small group arrives in Restov near months' end, thankful for the comforts of a big city.

By now, Saryn has headed deep into the Narlmarches to visit his fey friends, who are receptive and attentive during his visit. While Tyg and Perlivash act their usual selves, he leaves the meeting feeling something amiss about the whole conversation - jovial words, but very little content. After leaving, Saryn discovers a small bundle tucked in his pocket that was not there before. Unwrapping the tiny leaves reveals several small pieces of bark carved to look like tiny eyes and ears. Turning to look back at the two faeries, they're nowhere to be found. The entire encounter weighs on the ranger's mind during the journey back to Haven as he hunts along the way. Distracted by the turn of events, the hunt does not fare well [Survival 13 vs. DC 20]

Returning to Haven, Stone Walker starts work on a true town clock, though the weather and lack of sufficient parts make his work difficult. By the end of the month, Stone Walker realizes he has made virtually no progress, and may have to scrap his prototype and start anew. [Intelligence: 5 vs. DC 15].

In Restov, Armauk visits the Temple of Erastil and his old friend Bolgar, seeking to gain the merchant's aid on a trip home. Bolger replies candidly. "It's mid-winter. Such a trip would be a loss for me, as the farmers out there have nothing to trade in return. If you truly want my company, then I'd be happy to go along, but I cant afford to send a caravan out knowing it will lose money." Bolgar does help with some contacts in town and arranges for the sale of furs and ale.

By the end of the month, the militia shows some marginal improvement, though it is clear to Evrin that many more months of dedicated training needs done before these villagers could properly wield a sword. Notable, too, is the absence of the three men punished earlier in the month. It's clear that they've departed Haven, and a few others with them.

With construction of the brewery and mill, the village has a grand-opening celebration, and Herr Brasse breaks out his final small cask of Moon Radish Beer ( stashed away for just such an occasion). The drink invigorates the crowd, helping them forget the struggles of recent months, and they all look forward to the coming of spring.

Turn 8; Pharast, 4711 AR

Petitions:

The villagers approach with their nominations for the Council of Commoners: Herr Brasse, and Veshka Varnashu

Early in the Month of Pharast, Odis and several of his men from the bandit village arrive in Haven. They look around and eventually approach the Council of Lords with an inquiry. One of the children from their camp has gone missing, and they had hoped he was in Haven. They request that should news of his location arise, they would be grateful if it were passed along. They are curt, but polite, and leave quickly.

Cedrin reminds the Lords that Pharast is an important month for farming and agriculture, and suggests it would be wise to allow their subjects plenty of time to prepare for planting week near the end of the month.

Edicts:

You may issue one edict for the month of Pharast

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firefly-hwufanficwriter-blog · 7 years

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(Fanfic) Drake’s Poetry Lesson

July 24, 2017, Monday [#262]

My masterlists: [Fanfiction.] [Fan edits.]

Title: Drake’s Poetry Lesson (MC/Drake) (5,299 words)

Story summary: The royal suitors are given a new courtship task about Cordonian culture. Against his will, Drake helps Riley learn more about traditional Cordonian music, food... and poetry.

Drake's Poetry Lesson

[I.]

As per his usual habit when there was nothing that needed to be done, Drake was lying on a cold, stone floor, staring at a cold, stone ceiling.

After the events of the Apple Blossom Festival – he still didn't know whether to be happy that Riley had wanted everybody to celebrate his birthday with him; or annoyed that she had forced him to wear a jester's hat after she had been crowned Apple Queen – Drake definitely needed some time to himself, with nothing to remind him of the outside world.

“Hey, Drake!”

Of course, Riley would choose that moment to skip happily into the abandoned cold, stone room that, before her arrival, had been his sanctuary, and his alone.

Ever since he had accidentally fallen asleep in here during their conversation after the Regatta – he had had to endure her knowing smiles ever since – Riley had made a habit of looking for him in this very room whenever she wanted to speak to him.

And while he could find another secluded spot, he didn't want to. This was Drake's abandoned cold, stone room, not Riley's!

“Hey, LastName,” he drawled, teasing her by refusing to make eye contact with her at first, instead keeping his eyes on the grey blocks of stone that made up the room's boring ceiling. “What's up?”

Riley followed his gaze at the boring ceiling, but appeared to refrain from making the obvious joke in favor of discussing something else entirely. Instead, she replied happily, “I need your help for the culture event.”

Because the 'fox hunt' – all Cordonians knew where to put the air quotes – was delayed due to bad weather, it was announced that there would be an entirely spontaneous social season event to test Liam's suitors. At the end of the week, they were to make some sort of presentation or performance that showed their knowledge of and respect for Cordonian culture.

After pausing for a rejection but not receiving one, Riley continued. “I've been practicing singing the Cordonian national anthem in my room, but I haven't tried singing in front of anybody yet. I don't really want my first time to be at the event itself. Can you listen to me and tell me how I'm doing?”

That was a good choice. National anthems were intimately linked to their homelands, and Cordonia's national anthem was no different, telling the story of Queen Kenna's quest to unite the kingdoms and how every Cordonian should embody patriotism, compassion, and strength. Singing it in front of the king and queen would show that Riley was willing to embrace the country and all its history.

Finally meeting her eyes, he put his hands on the ground and lifted himself off the stone floor into a standing position, saying carelessly, “I'm all yours, LastName. Just don't melt my ears off with your singing.”

“Very funny,” she pouted, before smoothing out a sheet of paper Drake hadn't noticed earlier and looking at it closely. “Ready?”

“Ready as I'll ever be.” This ought to be entertaining, at least.

Giving him a cheerful grin, Riley exclaimed, “Great!” and started to sing.

[II.]

By the end of the first line, Drake's eyebrows had shot up as high as they could on his forehead.

By the end of the second line, his jaw had dropped open, not that Riley saw that because she was still focused on reading the lyrics from the sheet of paper she held in her hands.

By the end of the third line, he had begun to wonder if Liam's instructors had prepared him for this particular type of assassination attempt.

Riley's voice, which held a light, melodic quality whenever she spoke or laughed, seemed to lose all its pleasant features when her tongue attempted to mix words with music.

As she sang, she somehow lingered just a breath too long on certain syllables, while rushing others much too quickly, making Drake's head hurt as he, who had heard and sung the national anthem countless times in the past, began immediately mentally corrected her musical errors, and struggled because the headache-inducing mistakes just kept on coming.

As she reached the more musically dramatic part of the anthem – the part where a woman's voice would naturally go higher, while man's would go lower – the beautiful notes that were meant to convey the passion one ought to have for one's country changed.

Riley's voice turned the difficult musical notes into a peculiar, prolonged croak, sounding like a sickly frog at the very height of the national anthem, with her voice gradually regaining some human qualities as she brought the song to a close.

Finally, she stopped. Finally.

Setting down her sheet of lyrics with theatrical flourish, she beamed as she met his eyes once more.

“So?” she asked breathlessly. “How was it? Did I do okay? Do you think I'm ready?”

Normally, Drake wouldn't have hesitated in giving her a scathing remark that would express exactly how he felt. But Riley stood in front of him, with that eager smile, that hopeful twinkle in her eye, waiting for his approval, looking just like the baby deer he had told her she was in Olivia's wine cellar – and he couldn't do it.

Instead, he explained as gently – but as clearly – as he could that if she wanted to succeed at tomorrow's event, she would have to choose something that had absolutely nothing to do with singing.

And Riley, while obviously disappointed at his less than stellar feedback, thanked him for his help, saying that she knew she could trust him and that she would try something else. She exited the room, no doubt to look for ideas, as Drake rested his head in his palm, glad that the harrowing ordeal was finally over.

Drake's head was cloudy and he felt like he wanted to throw up.

He knew why. Riley was a terrible singer.

[III.]

It had taken longer than expected for Drake's headache to dissipate, but finally, he felt that he could move again without feeling like a blacksmith's hammer was happily pounding away, using his innocent mind as an anvil.

The ringing of Riley's pitiful attempt at singing had finally left his ears – he noted sourly that he had even told her beforehand to not melt his ears off! – and he was just about to leave the cold, stone room and go upstairs for lunch when he spotted Riley turn the corner and enter the room, holding a kitchen tray in her hands.

“Good, you're still here!” she said in relief. Seeing that there was no table in the room, she lowered herself to the floor and sat down, placing the tray before her as she indicated for him to join her.

Intrigued, Drake did as she wanted and sat down across from her on the floor. From experience, he knew that he wouldn't have to ask what it was because she was already about to tell him.

“I tried cooking this time!”

She enthusiastically gestured by holding both of her hands, palms up and at an angle, just above the steaming bowl of soup on the tray, as if presenting him with the Cordonian crown jewels.

“I found the ingredients in a book and it looked like this was an important part of Cordonian history, so I'm sure the king and queen are going to love it – and you get to try my cooking first!”

Riley sounded so happy and so confident that Drake couldn't help but regard her fondly – and hope that she didn't notice. It wasn't that long ago when they were almost-enemies in a crowded ballroom during the social season's opening ball, where rather than speak to her for another minute, he left her to the mercies of the other ladies of the court because he couldn't stand to speak to her anymore.

To think that they were now in their abandoned cold, stone room together, that she was seeking him out to ask for his help, trusting his advice, trusting that he wouldn't steer her wrong... it was nice.

It made Drake feel like he and Riley had a relationship, a friendship, outside of their shared connection to Liam, and it was with these almost-affectionate thoughts – he just hoped that she didn't notice – that he took the small bowl in one hand so that he could hold it up and see its contents.

Cooking a meal in front of the king and queen would show that Riley was willing to serve, not just be served. It was actually an excellent strategy – but Drake should probably eat the soup soon, as there was less steam now than moments ago.

The low temperature of the cold, stone room must have slightly cooled its contents. Inside the bowl was some sort of dark broth with herbs sliced into tiny little pieces, and, from the weight of the bowl, he knew that there had to be meat or vegetables that he couldn't see beyond the broth's surface.

The scent of the soup, though, was unfamiliar, which was strange because Drake had eaten just about every type of traditional Cordonian food that existed.

“Interesting. And you said that this was somehow connected to the history of Cordonia?”

“Yup!”

He was glad to hear that. Cordonian dishes were traditionally very hearty because in ancient times, the majority of the common folk had been farmers and ranchers, tending to the vast fields that could be found as far as the eye could see in southern and western Cordonia.

In fact, the 'fox hunt' also included a feast that resembled a Cordonian banquet from ages past. One of the soup dishes normally served was a beef and black bean soup that was prepared for Queen Kenna's wedding feast.

Actually, according to his history teacher, the recipe had originally been for a bacon and black bean soup, but Queen Kenna's talking wolf had made an alliance with a floating octopus to steal all the bacon from the palace kitchens, and with the wedding ceremony almost concluded and the feast almost underway, the kitchen staff had no choice but to use beef instead.

Not that Drake had actually believed his old teacher. A talking wolf? A floating octopus? Yeah, right.

Perhaps that was why the soup didn't smell familiar. Drake was used to the soup containing beef, and maybe the bacon, combined with the herbs he could see floating on top of the soup, was simply mixed in with the black beans to the point that the beans had masked the bacon's scent.

Well, whatever, he shrugged. Food was food. He dipped his spoon into the bowl, drawing out a big spoonful of soup that he scooped into his mouth, preparing himself to discern the flavors of Riley's cooking...

[IV.]

...only to choke in surprise at the extremely unpleasant taste of the innocent-looking soup. Not wanting to spit anything out – no matter how much he wanted to – he chewed whatever hard thing it was that was inside his mouth into small pieces that he could eventually swallow, trying not to gag at the metallic, earthy taste that seemed to cling to his tongue and to the roof of his mouth long after he had swallowed that single, incredibly disgusting spoonful of soup.

What was that?!

“So?” Riley asked, not seeming to recognize the horror Drake had just been through. “What do you think of my cooking? Does it taste the way it should? You've probably had a ton of traditional dishes, so...”

She trailed off when she realized that Drake was staring at the vile bowl of soup with wide eyes.

“Drake?”

Still not able to speak, he slowly raised his eyes to hers, silently asking her why she would attempt to take his life by serving him the most revolting soup he had ever tasted in his entire life.

Murder by soup. How undignified.

“You look pale... you must be really hungry. Just go ahead and finish the soup, I can make more for myself later, so don't worry about me,” Riley smiled, making a shooing, 'go on' gesture with her hand.

After taking several deep breaths to try to recover from the painful experience he had only just narrowly escaped with his life mostly intact, he said slowly, “Riley... where did you get this recipe?”

“I told you, from a book, see?” She took out a book that he saw had actually been under the kitchen tray the entire time, turned it to a folded page, and began to read.

“...And so Kenna Rys, under the cover of darkness, fled the castle of her ancestors, abandoning the ancient fortress to the rein of Luthor Nevrakis, self-styled King of Stormholt. Her first night in exile, though filled to the brim with danger and despair, only strengthened her resolve to someday reclaim her homeland, her throne.

“To seal her solemn vow, she took the soil of her ancestral home and the root of the apple tree under which she played as a young child, and with these and her bitter tears made a soup that would forever remind her of her love for her people, her vengeance for her family, and of her future victory to reclaim the throne of Stormholt-”

“WHAT!?”

“I said, to reclaim the future throne-”

“No, not that!” Drake pointed shakily at the bowl of soup, which was smugly sitting on the kitchen tray, with his spoon. “Riley,” he asked her incredulously, voice rising in alarm with each proceeding word, “did you just feed me dirt-and-root soup?!”

And at that, she actually looked offended. “Traditional dirt-and-root soup! Don't blame me for the weird things your ancestors ate!”

He had no idea why this woman somehow felt like she had the moral high ground, but, rather than shout at her – he wouldn't shout at her because Riley never backed down from a fight, and not because he was worried that his genuine ire might make her cry, because he certainly would never be worried about something stupid like that – he asked her how she had found the book.

Apparently, after his unenthusiastic response to the song she had been practicing for days, Riley had panicked because there wasn't a lot of time before the event began.

She had frantically taken an armful of books on traditional Cordonian history and scanned them as quickly as she could, looking for inspiration. And when she had seen the word 'soup,' she had honestly thought it was another one of their unusual Cordonian things, like their fox hunt that didn't have any foxes.

Drake didn't bother correcting her. She would know to put the air quotes once she married a Cordonian.

Married Liam.

He got a funny mental image of Riley trying to spoonfeed Liam her dirt-and-root soup, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to laugh.

Maybe that disgusting soup sucked all the humor out of him. Some real food, made with real ingredients, would probably be good for Drake right now. And it would likely be in his best interests to leave before she got it in her head to perform traditional Cordonian archery or something.

He got another mental image, this time of Riley lightly tugging on his arm, cajoling him to let her put an apple on his head so she could practice archery – and that image made him smile.

Hmm. It looked like his humor was coming back.

Still, some food wouldn't be amiss. After accepting her sorrowful apology for the atrocious soup she had made, Drake was about to leave the cold, stone room when a thought occurred to him.

“Since you were really... accurate... when it came to the dirt and the roots... did you also add your own tears to the soup?”

“Huh? No, of course not, I used salt and water. Adding my tears to a bowl of soup would have just been weird.”

“Right,” Drake repeated flatly. “Weird.”

At that, he left their cold, stone room so that he could get himself a good lunch because he needed to wash the taste of dirt and roots out of his mouth... though after a grumble from his stomach, he hastily decided that for now, perhaps a glass of water would be a better choice.

Drake's stomach was cloudy and he felt like he wanted to throw up.

He knew why. Riley was a terrible cook.

[V.]

After having a delicious lunch and taking a refreshing nap, Drake was fairly sure that his stomach had settled, and he could now laugh at the situation. Looking back, it had been pretty funny that Riley had thought to feed him dirt and roots.

Maybe she was eccentric and totally crazy, but he was always sure to have an adventure when she was around, even if they were both just sitting inside a cold, stone room under a cold, stone ceiling.

He liked that.

Of course, another thing he liked was solitude, and he hadn't gotten enough of it today because Riley had dropped in on him in the morning with her song, and again in the afternoon with her... soup.

Now that it was almost time for sunset and she still had to think of an idea for the culture event, she was bound to be out of their abandoned cold, stone room, which meant that it was empty and waiting for him.

Finally.

After navigating the stairs with the careless ease of somebody who had been living in the palace for almost his whole life, he arrived at the right corridor and headed to the cold, stone room. But, as he drew closer, he could hear a voice coming from inside.

“Where was that page again? This poetry book is huge... Maybe I'll have to memorize it, but at least I won't accidentally poison anybody by doing a poetry reading... I hope Drake's okay... Oh, here it is!”

A poetry reading? Interesting idea. And a good one. If she chose the right poem, preferably something about the country's history, it would show her willingness to learn all she could about Cordonia, and that would make a good impression on the king and queen.

He felt a little silly standing in the corridor while she was inside, but he firmly reminded himself that he had thought earlier today that songs and soup were harmless, and look where that had gotten him.

Based on everything that had happened today, Drake was probably much safer out here in the corridor alone, than in there with here. While he didn't know what havoc she could wreak with dusty old poetry, he had no intention of finding out.

“My Beloved.”

Drake nodded to himself.

He knew that poem. Every Cordonian knew that poem. He wondered if she had chosen it herself, or if she had asked Liam or Maxwell for help – before he came to the conclusion that Liam probably wouldn't be allowed to help her about something connected to the event, and Maxwell didn't seem to be the type to recommend classic poetry.

And if she wasn't that familiar with the poem yet, Drake's presence might make her nervous. It was better to stay outside, close enough to listen, so that he could critique her later.

If only I

Could tell clouds to depart from that

Which is mine to protect

Command a world to awaken

Will I ever fathom the warmth

In you, my sun

My beloved

Would you let me fight for you?

Drake knew that the opening stanza of 'My Beloved' referred to the sun's power to change lives – to command an entire world to awaken, just as the poem said.

Savannah, when she had discussed it with him as part of her homework years and years ago, had remarked that it was a pity that the poem hadn't ended with referencing the moon, because that would have made the poem feel complete.

On the other hand, he had said that was too cliché – and got an apple custard tart thrown at the back of his head. But when he had turned around to frown at Savannah, she seemed unusually focused on her homework, as if she couldn't have possibly thrown an apple custard tart at her brother's head.

Riley's voice was tentative and soft when she read the first stanza. He didn't know if that was by design, or if she had judged that it was the best type of voice to use when reading the poem, but either way, Drake thought that it suited her just right.

It was rare for him to her her voice like this – normally, she was fiery and loud and making witty remarks in response to his own. Not that he would have her be any other way – but the gentle tone she was using right now... felt, right, too. Her gentle side was one he hadn't seen very often, but hearing it from a slight distance, as he was now, was pleasant, and he found himself liking the familiar poem.

If only I

Could paint a portrait of our

Pasts, kept safe in your heart and mine

Futures countless as the blades

Of verdant grass beneath my feet, yet still

Falling short of all the hope I see

In you, my haven

My beloved

Would you let me fight for you?

He supposed that Riley must have a gentle side. Waitresses would lose their jobs if they allowed themselves to lose their tempers at everybody they came across. Come to think of it, besides her being a waitress, she didn't seem to talk too much about her past – though she did tell him that she had managed to burn ice cream once.

Actually, how did she even manage to do that? As a waitress, he would have expected her to at least have some basic knowledge of how food was prepared. Drake really should have remembered that story of hers before trying her soup earlier today. The soup that she had claimed was traditionally Cordonian.

Instead of clinging to her American past, Drake observed, Riley had thrown herself completely into Cordonia. She might not understand why the Derby was important – honestly, Drake didn't either; but he did like the horses.

But she could find aspects of herself that she could show to the press to try and prove to them that she was worthy of being their queen. Yet even then, with her charming smiles and cryptic answers, the press had labeled her as 'The Mystery Woman.'

Women normally liked talking about themselves, but Riley, instead, preferred asking other people about themselves – and learning as much about Cordonia as she could.

It was as if she was forming roots here, already planning on building a life for herself here, and he didn't know if that spoke to her confidence about being chosen as Cordonia's queen, or simply to her growing esteem for a country in which she was determined to settle.

But then again, she had only seen the luxurious, glamorous side of Cordonia the whole time she had been here. What future did she see for herself here? If somebody else was chosen to be Cordonia's queen, would Riley be content to stay here anyway, but as a commoner, like Drake?

If only I

Could gather the scattered grains

Each a precious gift

Search blindly with my fingertips

Restore them to their place

Slow their treacherous fall

In you, my hourglass

My beloved

Would you let me fight for you?

This year's social season had gone by in a blink. It seemed that one moment, Maxwell was luring Riley to Cordonia, and the next moment, it was time for the 'fox hunt.' Time had passed – and passed too quickly.

Drake thought back to their walk back to the palace after eating cronuts. Riley had fallen into step beside him, and even that early on, she had already told him that with all his warnings about nobles and what the palace was like, it was difficult to get to know who he was.

How different would it have been, if Drake had know back then that Riley could be trusted? Drake wished that they had more time. He imagined longer conversations, more long talks and funny jokes and competitive races.

While ski races weren't an option in the palace, he could have told her about the game he had created with Liam, maze-tag, and had countless races to see who could reach the tree in the middle first.

Drake knew that she wouldn't think it was childish – she would laugh in the middle of his explanation, tag him, and run ahead, leaving him to stare, dumbfounded, for a second before he shouted a playful threat and chased after her.

They would play that game over again for hours and hours, one or the other always whining for a rematch to restore their maze-tag honor. And when they finally got tired, they would go to the tree in the middle of the maze.

They would lean against the trunk, breathing heavily from all the running and all the laughter, watching the sky in comfortable silence until the stars came out. He could tell Riley about the constellations Savannah had taught him, and hold back a smile as she tells him that what he said was a sea serpent looked more like a gummy worm to her.

How many starlit nights could Drake have spent with Riley in that maze?

But now, it was almost time for the 'fox hunt;' almost time for the final party of the social season at Maxwell and Bertrand's family estate; almost time for Liam's coronation. Almost time to find out if Riley was going to be somebody's wife. Liam's wife.

If only I

Could train flesh and blood and bone

To be of use, this shell, to see and shield you

Resist age and death, to spend eternity

In you, my home

My beloved

Would you let me fight for you?

The fourth stanza was a sad way to end the poem, speaking of a wish to do more and be more. The speaker clearly felt that whatever they had done, it wasn't enough. Devotion, at its very deepest, had its limits, but the poet clearly felt that endless, eternal devotion was the way things should be.

Drake disagreed. How pathetic would it be to be a shell, just lingering restlessly somewhere where they didn't belong, just waiting to be of use, having no purpose but to shield and protect? Drake found himself disliking the familiar poem.

How much time did somebody need to 'see and shield,' anyway? A lifetime was enough. Wishing for more time, for eternity, was just greedy, wasn't it?

[VI.]

Moments after reading the final line of the poem, Riley let out a small sigh. Because Drake couldn't see her, he didn't know what that sigh meant – and he didn't know why his own sigh followed shortly after, making Riley give a small squeak of surprise.

“Who's there?”

Drake opened his mouth to answer, but his throat felt slightly dry. And why did he feel so tired all of a sudden? He grasped the edge of the wall with his fingertips as he swallowed to moisten his throat, before finally giving a short, terse response.

“It's me.”

“Oh, Drake? Come on in! Why are you hiding out there?”

Noticing, even without wanting to, the fact that the wariness in Riley's first statement had given way to warm familiarity once she realized that it was Drake who had been there, he entered their cold, stone room with the cold, stone ceiling, only to see Riley getting up, smoothing the back of her blue dress with one hand as she held a book of poetry in the other.

“I finally found something I could do, Drake!” she said excitedly.

Waving the book in front of her, a finger marking the page she has just finished reading, she continued. “I chose a great traditional poem I could read to the court – I just hope they don't mind that I chose a romantic poem...” she finished with a slightly worried frown.

“Romantic?” he asked in surprise. “Riley, that's not a romantic poem. Every Cordonian knows that 'My Beloved' was commissioned by Queen Kenna Rys exactly one year after the defeat of Empress Azura. She told the poet to compose a poem, from the point-of-view of a patriotic soldier, that captured all the emotions of the Battle of Stormholt, so that younger generations would never forget.”

Drake pointed at a spot on the page.

“See that? The first three lines of the poem refer to Empress Azura – who was always called the Storm – and how the country united to defend the kingdom against her invasion. Our literature teacher told us that the poet had originally used the term, 'raging storm,' but Queen Kenna thought that it gave her too much power. So she had the poet use 'clouds' instead.”

Now it was Riley's turn to be surprised.

“But... but it sounds so romantic!”

Raising his eyebrow at her, he gently took the book from her hands to double-check that they were talking about the same poem, even though it wasn't necessary because, as he said, every Cordonian knew 'My Beloved.' And after confirming that it was the poem Drake had in mind, he started to explain the rest of it to her.

“See, the first stanza is about the whole country waking up to fight in the final battle... the second stanza is about the many possible futures Stormholt could have... the the third stanza is about the soldier saying that he wished he had more time to train so that he could be a better warrior for the country...”

He continued his way down the page.

“...and the last stanza is about him wanting to serve his country for eternity. Every stanza ends with the same line about being willing to go to war to defend Stormholt.” Drake snorted. “You must have a twisted mind to think – to think that such a historical poem as 'My Beloved' is about romance, of all things.”

It was silly of Riley. Just because something seemed like it could be romantic, like it should be romantic, didn't mean that it would be.

Would ever be.

“Drake? You're shaking.”

He looked down.

Why were his fingers trembling slightly?

Confused, Drake held them up in front of his face, and he blinked and blinked as he willed them to stop.

It worked almost completely. He shoved his hand into his pocket.

No need to see that.

“Oh, are you still feeling bad from the soup I made for you?” she asked, looking at him with wide, worried eyes. “I'll get you some dessert from the kitchens or something. That'll make you feel better. I'll be right back! And, don't worry,” she laughed, “I won't make it myself!”

With that, she rushed out of the room.

And after she was gone, he leaned against a cold, stone wall and wearily closed his eyes. Listening to a patriotic, historical poem about a soldier's love for his country shouldn't have drained all his energy from him, but somehow, it had.

Trembling fingers.

Shallow breaths.

Blinking eyes.

Drake's heart was cloudy and he felt like he wanted to throw up.

But this time, he had absolutely no idea why.

(The end.) (Word count: 5,299 words.)

First author’s note: I’ve had this idea for a while, so I’m happy I was finally able to write it 😊 I like the idea of Riley trusting Drake enough that he’s the one she goes to for help 😁 Also, it was not easy trying to write a poem that could sound romantic and patriotic at the same time 😂 I couldn’t use any classic romantic poetry techniques OR patriotic poetry techniques without giving everything away 😂 I think that this is the first sad Drake fanfic I’ve written, though 😢

Second author’s note: By the way, receiving 🦄🦄 comments 🦄🦄 on my fanfiction lets me know that YOU are interested in reading more… 😊😎 Nudge nudge, wink wink 😀😋

(Waiting for H.W.U. to come back, forever and always; 24/07/17.)

#🦄🦄 😊 your comments are wonderful unicorns to me 😊 🦄🦄#playchoices #the royal romance #firefly-hwufanficwriter original post

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insurancelifedream · 4 years

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8 Facts That Nobody Told You About State Farm Ceo | state farm ceo

According to a recent article on the New York Times, the new state Farm CEO, Frank Fassarella, “has been described as a conservative by the industry's liberal advocates.” Apparently Mr. Fassarella is the new face of the business sector – and it is about time!

Mr. Fassarella has no conservative views at all, nor does his employees. In fact, they are not even conservative – but rather progressive in their views. From a New York Times article:

One of Mr. Fassarella's jobs will be to coordinate the farm's lobbying activities on Capitol Hill, according to people familiar with his plans. He will make sure that all the farm's programs are well represented in Washington. He plans to hire a team of staffers and advisers who will help him push a pro-business agenda, these people said.

Mr. Fassarella is well liked by the New York Times, and the people who know him well and have worked with him in the past are pleased with his efforts and views. According to the Times, he is a “laborious” person who is “very involved in the day-to-day operations of the company.”

In addition, he has been the president and chief executive of the Farm Credit Corporation, which was created to improve the lending process for farmers and ranchers who needed it most. The Farm Credit Corporation was created as part of the farm bill legislation enacted during the Clinton administration – and since then, it has become the major driving force behind farm bill initiatives, including a loan guarantee program called the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP).

The New York Times reported that Mr. Fassarella has been named to the position of state Farm CEO by State Comptroller Thomas P. DiNapoli. This is an honor, he is happy to accept. “I am honored to be chosen for such a great job by the New York State Comptroller's Office,” Mr. Fassarella said in a statement. “It's the job of the state farm to keep farmers in business and I intend to carry out this responsibility by bringing to bear my vast knowledge and experience in the sector.

For the first year I'll be the state farm director and I look forward to getting started.” as he prepares for the next challenge of leading the Farm Credit Corporation. As he looks at his New Year's Resolution, he said, “I hope this is not a big one, but I'm excited to get going. and begin to turn the New Year's Resolutions into realities.”

I am encouraged by what I've heard and read about Mr. Fassarella. He's a hard worker with an eye for problems, and he's ready to help those who need it. As a farmer and rancher myself, I hope his leadership of state Farm Credit will mean a stronger future for farmers in our country. We need a New Year's Resolution for the Farm Credit Corporation, and I hope Mr. Fassarella is ready to put his efforts into that resolution.

Mr. Fassarella has had a tough time running the Farm Credit Corporation and it shows. His first year on the job, the Comptroller's Office has filed four lawsuits against him over his handling of the farm credit and the Farm Security Administration.

So I asked Mr. Fassarella how his leadership was going, and he told me that he was confident that he was doing everything right. “The Farm Credit Corporation is doing fine,” he said. But he also mentioned that he had learned a lesson. “We can't expect results overnight,” he said. “It will take a lot of hard work on my part, but we must continue to do whatever is necessary to improve our performance.”

Now, it appears that we all know the New Year's Resolution is coming and it is time to do what is necessary to make things work. The Comptroller's Office and the other state agencies involved need to have a clear agenda in order to be effective. If they aren't, then we are going to be looking at a lot more lawsuits and more headaches for all concerned.

So please, let's get going to find a New Year's Resolution for State Farm CEO. The best way to start is to get to work today, right now.

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vistapostng-blog · 6 years

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Boosting Food Security Via Biotechnology

Boosting Food Security Via Biotechnology Hunger and population outgrowing food supply have been an age-long issue. The English scholar and cleric, Thomas Malthus, raised the issue in 1798, in his now famous Malthusian Theory of Population. The cleric espoused his theory in his writings, “An Essay on the Principle of Population’’. The Malthusian Theory of Population is a theory of exponential population growth and arithmetic food supply growth. Malthus argued that because there will be higher population than the availability of food, many people will die from the shortage of food. He theorised that this correction will take place in the form of Positive Checks (or Natural Checks) and Preventative Checks. These checks would lead to the Malthusian catastrophe, which would bring the population level back to a ‘sustainable level’. Mankind has not allowed the Malthusian catastrophe to occur, but has continued to strive to apply scientific methods to boost agricultural production. In spite of advances in the sciences; food insecurity remains a global problem. However, experts say that if mankind embraces biotechnology, hunger would be conquered and there would be no fear of the Malthusian catastrophe as agriculture based on biotechnology is sustainable. They also say that biotechnology has lower environmental impact than traditional agriculture due to the reduction of carbon emissions through direct seeding. Also, genetically modified crops help poorer farmers because with more resistant seeds, they have better harvests and sell their product better. They also say that farmers need less input to take care of their crops, while most genetically modified foods are grown with fewer pesticides. They also say that by creating more pest-resistant plants, the need to use pesticides to protect crops is reduced. The productivity in genetically modified crops is estimated at between 7 per cent and 20 per cent higher than in traditional agriculture, and 33 per cent higher than organic crops. On the advantages of biotechnology, former U.S. Agriculture Secretary Tom Vilsack said: “Biotechnology allows farmers to grow more food on less land using farming practices that are environmentally sustainable. “Through biotechnology, seeds yield more per hectare, plants naturally resist specific insect pests and diseases and farming techniques improve soil conservation. “Farmers and ranchers can help plants and animals fight diseases and adapt to environmental stress and climate change. “We can enhance the nutritional content of foods and improve human health through plant- and animal-produced therapies. “The benefits of biotechnology are especially meaningful at a time when our global population is growing and our demand for food is increasing, especially in developing countries.’’ The Federal Government aware of the importance of biotechnology in national development, in April 2001, approved the establishment of National Biotechnology Policy. The policy led to the establishment of the National Biotechnology Development Agency (NABDA) in November 2001. NABDA has the mandate: “To make biotechnology an engine of growth for socio-economic development of Nigeria. “To promote biotechnology activities that positively respond to national aspirations on food security, job/wealth creation, affordable healthcare delivery and sustainable environment, among others. NABDA has lived up to its mandate, and the overseeing Director General of the Agency, Mr Oguntunde Abayomi, has sustained and boosted the tempo. At a South-West Sensitisation programme of the Open Forum on Agricultural Biotechnology (OFAB), held in Abeokuta recently, former President Olusegun Obasanjo, stressed the need to embrace innovative advances such as biotechnology in agriculture. The former president said if properly developed, biotechnology would bring an end to hunger across the globe. Obasanjo said that something urgent needed to be done to boost agricultural yields, as the world’s population was expected to reach 9.7 billion by 2050. He noted that biotechnology had the potential to increase agricultural productivity, move agriculture away from dependence on chemical inputs and help to reduce environmental problems. Obasanjo said that biotechnology was taking mankind beyond the depths of understanding of chemical and physical possibilities. He stressed that agriculture occupied a strategic position in global efforts to address issues of hunger and diseases. “Deliberate efforts should be made on the part of government to encourage scientific incursion into agriculture via policy measures specifically designed to encourage research and development and the adoption of new technologies. “I’m excited that OFAB has presented a formidable platform for dialogue on the transformation of agriculture through quality information dissemination on agricultural biotechnology in Africa,’’ he added. Abayomi said that the event was timely as Nigeria and other African countries were adopting improved agricultural technologies for food security. At a roundtable on biotechnology organised recently by NABDA, speakers stressed the need to embrace biotechnology in order to achieve food sufficiency. They said that the country risked full blown famine if it continued to rely on traditional agriculture One of the speakers, Prof. Akinola Hassan, explained that “people are talking about organic agriculture; biotechnology is not confronting organic agriculture, both of them go hand in hand. “What we are having is ignorance; that’s where education comes in.” Hassan, a professor of Genetics at Uthman Danfodio University, Sokoto, described the campaign against genetically modified organisms (foods) as mere propaganda. “GMOs don’t kill, they are not dangerous to health; the Federal Government is talking about green alternatives. “ They are saying that they want foods to be produced in safe manner; and that can be achieved through the use of GMO.” Luckily some political leaders are already pushing for the application of biotechnology in the development of improved seedlings in order to boost agricultural yields. One of them Gov. Willie Obiano of Anambra, spoke recently in Abuja, at the official launch of the Agriculture Promotion Policy 2016-2020, by the Federal Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development. Obiano, represented by his deputy, Dr Nkem Okeke, said scientific applications would make agriculture more interesting for farmers. The governor said: “We need seedlings that will give better yields. “ Anambra is the smallest state in Nigeria in terms of landmass and it is even getting smaller because of erosion that is destroying our land. “ We need to have seedlings that will give better yields so that instead of 1,000 tonnes of rice per hectare; you may have it yield 4,000 to 5,000 tonnes of rice per hectare.” Obiano’s position was in line with the advice of Food and Agricultural Organisation (FAO). According to FAO, “ Feeding a world population of 9.1billion in 2050 will require raising overall food production by 70 per cent (nearly 100 per cent in developing countries).’’ The Federal Government, by adopting the National Biotechnology Policy has acknowledged its importance in the fight against hunger and poverty. NABDA, the body charged with the task of developing the sector, should be given all the encouragement to enable it to deliver on its mandate. Happily, Oguntunde, the Overseeing Director-General since Jan.8, 2018, pending the appointment of a substantive director- general, has brought transformation to the Agency. Before he assumed office at NABDA, he was the Director, Bioresources in the Federal Ministry of Science and Technology, and supervising Director of NABDA. Besides staff training, he renovated the medical biotechnology laboratory, green houses and agricultural biotechnology laboratories and constructed additional fish ponds. His speech during the March for Science in Abuja, on April 14, was indicative that with the needed support, NABDA would play vital roles in advancing agricultural biotechnology to boost food security. Quoting the Minister of Science and Technology, Dr Ogbonnay Onu, Abayomi said: “With a strong and diversified economy driven by science, technology and innovation, our citizens will be happy and proud to remain at home to pursue their happiness and contribute meaningfully to economic development.” Experts and stakeholders say that approval of the National Biotechnology Policy showed the commitment of the Federal Government to boost food security through science and innovation. They stressed the need to sufficiently fund NABDA to enable the Agency deliver on its mandate. Read the full article

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writ118krollsj-blog · 6 years

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The Larson Dairy: Origins

I know that when I originally started this blog I planned don focusing on the treatment of adult dairy cows on organic vs. conventional farms. However, my research has shown me there’s a little more left to discover in regards to the video I originally came across while scrolling through Facebook, Larson Dairy Inc., ARM, the animal welfare/activist group that released the video, and similar cases of abuse that have occurred. So, with that being said, from here on out I would like to focus on the things mentioned above and see what else I can dig up!

With this research session, I wanted to take a closer look at the Larson family dairy operation and find out how it all started. Read below to find out more!

In the article, “Larson Dairy: Almost 70 years in the making in south Florida”, written by Karen Lee, and published in February 2005 by the Progressive DairyMan Magazine, Lee provides a little background to the founder of Larson Dairy Inc., Louis E. Larson, a.k.a. “Red”. “Red” was born in South Dakota and his family relocated to Florida to live with their grandparents after going broke during the Dust Bowl. “Red” got a job on a dairy farm owned by a friend of his grandfathers and milked cows there for $2 a day (Lee). By investing his money back into purchasing cows, land, and dairy farms, “Red” combined 37 of his dairies into 3 dairy farms, with 6,000 cows, managed by 90 employees, and operated on 10,000 acres of land in Okeechobee county, Florida (Lee). The farms are now managed by his son’s John and Woody Larson, as well as his grandson’s including Jacob Larson, owner of the farm that was featured in the abuse video captured and released by the animal welfare organization, Animal Recovery Mission (ARM). Based on the quotes used in this article, I am assuming that the author, Lee, conducted an interview with “Red” Larson and a few of the others people she quoted in the article, However, these quotes are used sparingly (7 times total), and they were very short phrases. Looking further on in this article topics regarding breeding and environmental challenges are also discussed, but I didn’t think they were very relevant for my research. So with that being said, moving on!

Four years earlier, in 2005, “Red” Larson and the Larson Dairy Inc. won the Commissioner’s Agricultural Environmental Leadership Award. According to the Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services’s website, this award “spotlights the environmentally innovative farming practices of the state’s growers and ranchers...” that “...all share a commitment to protect and preserve Florida’s resources while continuing to provide agricultural products for society” (Bronson). According to the feature published on their website in their magazine featuring other winners, “Red” Larson is praised by his son, John Larson, for his ability to adapt to change over the years, and considers that to be “one of his big secrets to success in business”. Changes and advancements that have been made include those within waste management, feeding, housing, genetics and milking. Although the Larson Dairy’s environmental innovation as one of the first dairy farmers to install a lagoon as a wastewater control system is probably (my best guess) one of the main reasons they received the Commissioner’s Agricultural Environmental Leadership Award, here are some examples of changes that “Red” has made over the years regarding the cows they care for:

When “Red” first started his fairy business, he used to milk cows by hand, and milk was collected in buckets. Now computerized milking machines, sensors and pipes and other technological advances have replaced the hands and buckets that were used so long ago.

Cows also used to be kept in open pastures under the hot Florida sun. Now, at Larson Dairy Inc. cows are housed in barns with fans, water misters and lined stalls to ensure that they are comfortable.

Feeding and nutrition has changed drastically as well. Instead of being “fed by the bucket”, as cows once were, nutritionists are employed to create balanced rations of food based on a cows current physical condition and their milk production level.

Overall these changes in animal care and management benefit both the cow and the farmer... “The cows are under less stress, which translates into better health and greater milk yield.”... Seems like a win-win to me!

Flash-forward to 4 days after the release of the abuse video on November 9th, by the animal welfare organization, Animal Recovery Mission (ARM). A CBS12 news article, “Veterinarian praises Larson Dairy Farm for past kindness”, written by Yaremi Farinas, and published on November 13th, 2017, features Dr. Glenn Gillard speaking out in defense of the Larson Dairy farm and it’s owner, Jacob Larson. Gillard is a local Okeechobee veterinarian and professor at the Florida Atlantic University, and his students have been visiting the Larson Dairy Farms for the past 5 years (Farinas).

“I know the man for five or six years and I can’t say enough about his integrity... His focus on the animal is most important. A happy content animal is a productive animal. I have seen other herdsmen who work for Larson Dairy and there is a compassion. They pet the animals gently. Move them around as they go through their routine. I’ve been in the business long enough to know if animals are stressed or not being treated properly you see it in their eyes and their body language and you don’t see it.” - Dr. Gillard

I think it’s great that this person stepped up and publicly supported Larson Dairy Inc. But being on sight, what seems like only a few, scheduled times out of the year doesn’t really make Dr. Gillard’s statements very trustworthy or credible. Good intended? Yes! Credible? Notttt really. I think that if this statement had come from the Larson Dairy’s actual veterinarian who has maybe spent at least a couple years or so as their veterinarian, it would have been a more reliable source and thus more valuable to my research.

To end this research session, i found a video sponsored by the Florida Dairy Farmer’s organization featuring “Red” Larson. This is a 4 minute long voice over interview accompanied by a slide-show of pictures throughout “Red” Larson’s life. Some of the information I talked about in the beginning of this post is reiterated in the video by “Red” Larson himself! It’s pretty cool, so you should check it out!

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#florida #okeechobee #FL #dairyfarm #larsondairy #cows #agriculture #environment #milk #dairy #moo

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