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charlesslut16 · 6 months

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-Christmas shopping-

summary : you and max go shopping fo your shared, united, family...

PAIRING : max verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i hope you like this... And i love this cute pic of max as a baby

december masterlist ; masterlist

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Max Verstappen and his wife, you, were relishing a rare break from the whirlwind of Formula 1. The winter streets of their Dutch hometown were adorned with twinkling lights, festive melodies floated through the air, and the scent of mulled wine and cinnamon wafted around them.

Your mission today was simple yet joyous: to gather gifts for your little nieces and nephews, their parents, and each other. With a list in hand and hearts brimming with holiday cheer, you set off on foot, preferring to immerse yourselves in the cozy atmosphere rather than rush through the shopping spree.

Your first stop was a quaint toy store that sparkled with enchantment. Max's eyes lit up as he spotted miniature race cars lined up neatly on the shelves. He chuckled, imagining the delight on the children's faces. You, with your infectious laughter, gravitated toward a shelf of stuffed animals.

You picked up a fluffy bunny, envisioning her youngest niece cuddling it on Christmas morning.

As you strolled along, the chilly December breeze played with your scarf, and Max teased you about wrapping up like you were heading to the Arctic.

They laughed, their breath forming misty clouds in the crisp air.

Passing by a confectionery, you couldn't resist popping in to select boxes of chocolates and candies, knowing they would be perfect stocking stuffers.

Your next destination was a boutique for your family. You wanted to find something elegant for your mom and a thoughtful gift for your dad. Max, being the attentive partner he was, suggested a beautiful necklace he knew your mom had admired once.

For your dad, max found a vintage watch that resonated with his love for classic craftsmanship.

As the both of you moved through the streets, the spirit of giving seemed to infuse every moment. You encountered a street market bustling with local artisans, showcasing handmade crafts and artisanal goods.

Max and his wife, you, delighted in picking out handmade ornaments for their own Christmas tree and unique, handcrafted items for their siblings.

The afternoon sun began to wane, casting a golden glow over the town. Max and you stopped by a cozy café, sipping hot cocoa as you admired their purchases. You exchanged anecdotes, reminiscing about past holidays and your own childhood Christmas memories.

Your final stop was a bookstore where Max indulged in selecting adventurous tales for his nephews while you carefully picked out illustrated storybooks for her nieces.

You both knew the power of a good story and were excited to share these magical worlds with the children you adored.

Loaded with bags brimming with carefully chosen gifts, the both of them made their way back home, the sky now adorned with stars.

Walking hand in hand, you felt the warmth of the holiday season enveloping you. Their hearts were full, not just from the treasures you held, but from the shared moments of laughter, love, and togetherness—a true reflection of the spirit of Christmas.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen x you #christmas #masterlist

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www-jungwon · 7 months

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to all the boys i've loved before. 003

003 — my first kiss,

tw. swearing, mentions of a kiss, death (joke), a car accident summ. you've written a love letter to every boy you've ever loved--secret ones you'll never send. except, what happens when they do get mailed, and every crush you've ever had receives one all at once? socmed + written. 477

you set your phone down on the living room table, wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders as you twist into the couch cushions to get comfortable.

at the sound of your phone hitting the surface, jake looks over at you, but turns back to the movie.

you rest your head on the back of the couch and sigh, closing your eyes as you try to forget your car crash. the white car hitting yours, the not breathing, the crying-

heeseung. heeseung and his new purple hair that he dyed one month ago. you only know because haerin and wonyoung were freaking out. you wish you'd told him it looked bad. you would've been lying, though.

the crinkling of the chip bag jumps through your thoughts, and your eyes snap open.

“ha!” you shout, grinning.

jake startles, almost dropping the bag. “what?” he yells.

“you’re eating chips!”

“so?”

“so i bought those! and you said you wouldn’t eat them because i bought them!”

he looks down at the bag and groans. “i’ll pay you back."

“i’ll decline the payment.”

he scoffs at you and you both return to watching the movie, the main character walking into a bookstore.

“hey,” you say, eyes still focused on the movie.

“yeah?” jake eats a chip.

“i never told you where i was.”

there’s a pause as he swallows the chip before responding. “what?”

“like, after i crashed my car, i never told you where i was.”

“oh.”

"oh?" you reach for the bag of chips. “you just asked if i was on my way from the bookstore, and i said yeah, and then you hung up.”

“yeah.”

there’s silence as you watch the tv, and then suddenly, you retreat from him, sitting up. “jake.” you say, slightly incredulous.

“what?”

“did you drive my entire route to the bookstore looking for me?”

he pauses. “no.”

“oh. wait, what? then how did you find me?”

“i only drove half of the way, because the accident was in the middle of the-”

“wait, so then you were going to?” you interrupt.

he pauses again. “maybe.”

you shove him on the shoulder and he falls onto his side.

“this is the thanks i get?”

you laugh, leaning over him to wrap your arms around his side. “thanks,”

he turns his head against the couch cushion to look at you. his voice is soft when he speaks. “you’re welcome.”

there’s a loud buzz from your phone, and you pull away from jake to see a notification from messages.

you scan the text, brow furrowing.

“but it’s the summer,” you mumble, and jake sits up and turns to look at you.

“what?”

“nothing,” you quickly text a reply, turning on do not disturb (haerin would be proud) and setting your phone back down on the counter.

jake pulls the chip bag back from you.

“you’re not paying me back, you know.”

“i am!”

“you’re not.”

an. jake husband material frfr 🤞🤞also what is yn talking abt 🙈

tl. ( comment or send an ask to be added ) @mochamvgz @euncsace @cherrybeomm @sjyuns @rsmura @aerisdairy @illymontyshit @miniature-tragedy @mixtape-racha @oldjws @enhaz1 @stilesks @theskzvibe

prev. mlist. next.

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trulybetty · 6 months

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dec' 08 x sweets

Prompt: sweets Pairing: marcus pike x f!Reader Word Count: 3,196 Warnings: barely beta’d, all mistakes my own, this is au and way off the plot of anything to do with The Mentalist, mentions of baked goods and fluff and I apologize for the tough of angst 🍰 Summary: Maplewood, a small town nestled in northern BC where people flock to see the festive decorations of main street and enjoy the festive traditions. It's been a couple months since you arrived in Maplewood and your relationship with Marcus has blossomed, but could there be a road bump ahead that might cloud the festive season? AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

Something Festive This Way Comes Part I

Much like all the businesses and homes in Maplewood, Black Cat Books was fully decked out for the holidays. Between the shelves crammed with books and tables piled high with paperbacks every available space was full of tinsel, baubles and fairy lights. Libby had been absolutely giddy when you’d agreed to help decorate the place.

You still didn’t know how she managed to store so many seasonal decorations in her storeroom, let alone how she managed to fit decorations into every nook and cranny of the store. Everywhere you looked there was something, all leading to the crowning glory at the front of the store. The bright pink tree she’d decorated with miniature handmade books for the Merry Tree Trek.

However, since taking your new job your days in the bookstore had been greatly reduced so you jumped at any chance to be in there to find yourself lost in the endless sea of stories and whimsy that both Black Cat Books and Libby offered.

“Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe,” You complained when Marcus steered you away once again from the string of lights you were fussing with.

“I have no clue what you’re referring to,” he shrugged nonchalantly as he crossed his arms at his chest, “Just wanted to show you a potential place for more light.”

You looked up pointedly at the mistletoe you were now standing under and raised an eyebrow as you looked back at Marcus, the grin on his face no longer concealable.

“Well, since we’re here, they say it’s bad luck if you don’t…” he trailed off, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. Your breath hitched, your heart fluttered and you closed your eyes, eagerly awaiting the soft press of his lips against yours, the promise of mistletoe magic hanging in the air.

But a kiss didn’t come.

Frowning, you opened your eyes to find Marcus’s attention taken by something outside the frost-kissed window of the bookstore.

“Are you okay, Marcus?” you asked, a note of concern hanging off your words as you followed his line of sight across the street to the warmly lit bakery, its windows foggy from the heat within.

Sarah and Maria were holding down the fort allowing you and Marcus the afternoon together and the place appeared to be still standing in one piece. You squinted to try and see what it was that had caught his attention. The only thing that stood out was the lone figure standing in front of the bakery window.

Taking his hand in yours you gave it a gentle squeeze, “Marcus?” you asked again, and you frowned, his face was pale - it looked like he’d seen a ghost.

You hadn’t seen Marcus in two days.

Two days since you were both in the bookstore.

It wasn’t as if he’d disappeared altogether, he was currently at the bakery and you had tried the day before to go see him but Frank had turned up and hadn’t taken the hint. So you’d taken your pastry and made your way back to work.

Speaking of work, your new job at the Maplewood Tourism Board was proving to be a lot more than you had expected for a seemingly sleepy town.

The Winter Christmas Eve Ball was the crown jewel of Maplewood's holiday season, and as a fresh face on the Tourism Board, you were thrown into the merry deep end. Every day was a whirlwind of phone calls, schedules, and coordination with local businesses. The festive season was a community effort, and everyone wanted to make this year's events more magical than the last.

Tapping your pen against the desk you decided to call it a day. Your head was spinning with festivities and a list of events for the town for the month to organize and there was a promise of a drink over a pizza with Marcus. His offer of an apology to make up for his absence. Work had ramped up with an influx of tourists for the holiday season. Apparently, your short tenure with the tourism board had yielded quick results.

Stepping out of the bustling office, you made your way through the snow-dusted streets of Maplewood, the festive decorations twinkling in the early evening light. As you approached Maple Delights, you could see through the steamed-up windows that the bakery was in full swing, with Sarah cheerfully serving a steady stream of customers.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by the familiar, comforting aroma of freshly baked goods. The warmth of the bakery enveloped you, a stark contrast to the chill outside. You scanned the shop for Marcus but there was no sight of him.

“Is he around?” you asked from the back of the queue as you caught Sarah’s eye.

Sarah closed the lid on a bright pink cake box, stamped with the bakery logo before she pulled a string of twine to secure it, she nodded to the back, “You’re in luck, he just got back from the coffee shop.”

You nodded your thanks and headed to the back of the shop and to the kitchen.

Marcus was pulling out a large bowl of what smelled like gingerbread dough when you stepped into the kitchen.

“Hey, Marcus,” you called out softly, not wanting to startle him.

He looked up, his expression shifting from concentration to surprise, then a warm smile as he recognized you. “Hey! What brings you by? Shouldn't you be neck-deep in Winter Ball plans?”

You walked over, leaning against the counter. “I am, but I needed a break so I left early. I wanted to see how you're doing.”

Marcus wiped his hands on his apron, his smile lingering. “I’m doing alright, just a bit swamped with the holiday rush. Always the same this time of year,” he said, a hint of weariness in his voice.

You nodded, noticing the flour dusting his hair and the tired lines around his eyes. “I can see that. The bakery looks busier than ever,” you paused as you watched him roll out the dough, the scent of ginger and cinnamon filling the kitchen. “…the other day, in the bookstore. You seemed really distracted before we left, you sure everything is okay?”

He hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just long hours.” Marcus quickly changed the subject, “So, pizza night? I hope you’re ready for my world-famous ‘after-hours bakery pizza’ – it’s a special treat,” he finished with a wink.

Marcus' switch of topics didn't go unnoticed, but you decided not to push any further.

“Your world-famous pizza, huh? I'm intrigued,” you said with a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Marcus's face lit up at the chance to shift the focus to something more positive, “Just you wait, it's something else.”

The sight of the joy on his face was infectious, “Big promises Pike,” you chided with a smile.

As the bakery doors closed for the evening, the atmosphere inside shifted. The bustling energy of the day gave way to a more intimate, relaxed setting. It was just you and Marcus, alone with the warmth of the ovens and the soft glow of the kitchen lights.

Your eyes followed his movements as he peeled off his plaid shirt, revealing only a plain black t-shirt that was already dusted with a light layer of flour. You couldn't help but admire him in this simple moment, a man at ease in his own skin.

He began to walk you through his pizza-making process, his hands skillfully kneading the dough. There was something mesmerizing about watching him work, the way his hands moved with such confidence and care.

“Come here,” he said, guiding you to take his spot as he stood behind you, his hands running the length of your arms until they covered yours and guided them in the same motions he'd just demonstrated to knead the dough on the flour dusted table.

As you continued to work on the dough, Marcus's body behind yours felt warm and comforting. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered instructions and encouragement.

“See how the dough starts to come together?” he said, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded, enjoying the closeness between you two. Marcus's hands moved with yours, guiding you through the process until the dough was perfectly kneaded.

“Great job,” he said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “I think we make a great team.”

You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a flutter in your stomach at his compliment.

After topping the pizza with fresh ingredients Marcus had pulled from the walk in fridge. Ingredients he'd picked up from the local market the day before in preparation for your date. Marcus placed the pizza in the oven with a satisfied grin. “Now we just have to wait for it to bake,” he said, as you jumped up onto the table.

The air between you two crackled with unspoken words and shared smiles. He moved closer, his hands leaving traces of flour on your knees as he stood between your legs.

“I'm glad you're here,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You up at him, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. “Me too,” you replied sincerely. There was something about him that always made you feel at ease and happy.

Your heart raced as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft and gentle kiss. Your fingers found their way into his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

Marcus's hands traced up your thighs, sending shivers down your spine. You parted your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, as his hands moved to your hips. The warmth between you two was palpable, and every touch made your heart race faster.

As you pulled back from the kiss to catch your breath, Marcus's hands slid up to your hips, causing you to shiver at his touch. You moved your hands to his chest, feeling the solidness of his muscles beneath your fingers.

Suddenly, the timer on the oven beeped, and Marcus reluctantly pulled away. “I guess that's our signal,” he said with a chuckle.

You hopped down from the table as he took the pizza out of the oven. The aroma was mouthwatering, and you couldn't wait to dig in.

The snow crunched under your boots as you left True North Brews, the warmth of the coffee cups in your hands contrasting sharply with the chilly air. Maplewood was a hive of activity, with residents bustling about, embracing the festive season's joy.

As you turned the corner, you nearly bumped into a woman standing in the middle of the sidewalk. She was staring intently at the bakery down the street.

“Oh, I'm so sorry!” you exclaimed, instinctively stepping back.

The woman turned, offering a small, somewhat forced smile. “No harm done. I should have been watching where I was standing.”

You noticed the lost look on her face, “You're not from around here are you?”

She laughed, “That obvious hey?”

You smiled, “Only because I was stood where you are with the exact same look a couple months ago. What brings you to Maplewood?”

“I'm here to catch up with someone,” she paused before she carried on, "You don't happen to know Marcus Pike by chance?”

The name 'Marcus' caught you off guard, causing you to fumble one of the coffee cups, barely catching it before it spilled.

“Marcus, from Maple Delights?” you asked, trying to mask the surprise in your voice.

“Yes! That Marcus,” she confirmed, her eyes briefly flitting back to the bakery. “I stopped by but he's not there today they said. I know it's a small town, but any chance do you know where I could find him?”

You swallowed down a lump in your throat, you knew exactly where Marcus was. He was in your bed in your apartment above the bookshop after your pizza date at the bakery last night, waiting for you to come back with the coffees in your hands.

Before you could open your mouth to respond, the woman shook her head as she laughed, “Jeeze, look at me asking questions and I haven't even introduced myself, my name is Theresa,” she said, offering her hand to you.

#december x 500 #something festive this way comes #maplewood au #marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike fanfiction #jmarcus pike fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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linguist-in-a-blanket · 7 months

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I guess a polite thing to do in the first post ever would be to show you guys a cat. I don't own a cat, so here's a miniature Black Books bookstore I made for @holistic-alcoholic once.

#black books #miniature

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ethersierra · 2 years

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Closeup look of my Umbrastaff!

I made it myself, using a broken umbrella (that I fixed with just a lil hot glue) I found in my school's lost n found. It wasn't theft, if they wanted it back it would not have been sitting there for seven months.

I got the fabric from JoAnn's Witching Hour collection, it's stretchy and black with kind of a cobblestone pattern with an iridescent rainbow shimmer that absolutely sparkles in the light! It reminded me of The Hunger so I knew I had to get it. I hand sewed each piece on around the frame, and though it is... messy... it adds character. The lace was also from JoAnns, and it has an iridescent shimmer that immediately drew my eye. I sewed on each length after the main part of the umbrella was complete-- I thought it could use some flair :)

As for the ribbon, I actually found that at a thrift store? It has some pieces of silver tinsel(?) weaved into it. The belt loop to secure the umbrella closed I honestly just stole from one of my belts. Umbrastaff > holding my pants up

That brings me to the part I am MOST excited to share; the charms!

Each point of the umbrella (there are 8 in total) has a charm secured to it that I made. I held an eyepin over a candle (with jewelry pliers. i am not here to get burnt.) and melted it into the plastic knob at the end, then secured with superglue. Then, separately, I made each charm out of wire, which I added beads to, and looped at both ends and the middle, so that I could attach it to the umbrella and the 2 charms I prepared for each.. hangy.. thing. They each have a charm I either made or selected to represent their respective bird, which is lowermost.

The Twins

For Lup (left) and Taako (right), I wanted them to match. I bought these little hummingbirds from a cute treehouse themed bookstore on my trip to Oregon, and after adding an eyepin, painted them over to resemble a calliope hummingbird and lucifer hummingbird, respectively. I thought hummingbirds were a good representation of the twins because of their constant need to move and the energy they have. Plus, their plumage is beautiful while still blending in to their environment. Lup got a sun charm (which I got from someone who does garage sales for a living?? one of her suppliers had a bunch of broken jewelry pieces so score I guess!) and Taako got a wizard hat, which is a repainted lego piece!

The Lover

Barry's bird was perhaps the most obvious choice for me. A bluejay. Not only are they BLUE! J! but they are incredibly intelligent and have tight family bonds. This charm was made from the same material as the twins', as it was a miniature by the same company, but he actually started out as a cardinal! I may or may not have bought a 6 pack variety bag specifically to obtain him... jury's still out on that one. His charm is a flying bird since I thought it could symbolize his role as the lover, especially with his long search for Lup.

The Protector

Look. I couldn't NOT make Magnus a wood duck. It's right there. This is a male wood duck's "eclipse plumage," in which they lose their bright colored feathers in favor of duller ones. I painted this a duck figure that came in a big bag of other animal toys that I bought at a thrift store specifically for my craft reserves... Good thing I did! The sword is a lego piece. My friend was heavily distracted by the fact I had a lego sword on my umbrella. Personally I found the wizard hat on my head to be more distracting but to each their own.

The Lonely Journal Keeper

I know, not the most flattering angle. Believe it or not, this Great Blue Heron used to be an ostrich! With a little paper mache, paint, and imagination, Lucretia came to be. Coincidentally, on my trip to San Diego for the TAZ liveshow, we went to the zoo, and there was a great blue heron chilling in the penguin exhibit! I asked the zookeeper if it was theirs, but she said he just showed up same time every day (around lunch time...). The book on this charm I made from scrap felt (hat material) and paper. It was originally a lego book that I repainted, but that seems to have gotten lost when the charm fell off earlier-- some lovely folks dressed in Amnesty cosplay handed me the bird after it fell. Thank you guys for that cause I would have been devastated<3

The Peacemaker

Ok so merle is doing a little worse for wear here. The texture of the owl toy (flea market baybeee) I painted probably isn't best suited to that without some prep work. For Merle, I chose the eastern screech owl because they are small and a little angry but still have the owl angle. His charm is a butterly (thought it does not show up great in this photo), though it WAS an angel before that one got lost somewhere. Oh well, still works with his nature thing!

The Wordless One.

Davenport is so tiny compared to the rest!! I guess it's fitting, but it made him hard to paint. I chose the Atlantic puffin for him, because of their coloring and the fact that they're social migratory seabirds. His charm is a key (lego, yes yet again) because I felt it made sense for his character. I'm not here to stretch the analogy, it writes itself.

The Voidfish

Finally, we have Fisher! Like Barry and the twins, this started as a minifigure of a jellyfish, before I painted it over with some iridescent blueish paint and sparkle varnish, to give it that magical feel. The charm is an abstract metal series of rings, which I felt fit the whole mystical thing the voidfish has going on.

In conclusion, I spent a lot of time on this project, and am extremely proud of the results, however flawed they may be! I am also very glad tumblr changed their image limit lmao<3

#sierra speaks #a sierra original #cosplay #taz balance #taz lup #taz taako #taz cosplay #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #the adventure zone cosplay #taz fanart #the adventure zone fanart #the zone cast #idk what other tags to add lol #anyway this was so much fun and ive been waiting to share it for MONTHS!

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seagulltreasurechest · 2 years

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I see these being owned by someone who owns a tobacco pipe and wears a crushed red velvet dinner jacket

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justforbooks · 29 days

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Alice Munro

Canadian short-story writer who won the Nobel prize in 2013 and was often likened to Chekhov and Guy de Maupassant

Few writers have possessed the short-story format as thoroughly as the Canadian author and Nobel laureate Alice Munro, who has died aged 92.

Although her early years as a writer were clouded by the feeling, partly the result of pressure from her publishers, that she should concentrate on producing a novel, she never embraced that genre.

Her one attempt, Lives of Girls and Women (1971), is more accurately described as a collection of interlinking tales. Throughout her career, she developed this method of cross-referencing stories and continuing themes and characters across a collection, most notably in The Beggar Maid (published in Canada as Who Do You Think You Are?), which was nominated for the Booker prize in 1980, and in the Juliet stories of the epiphanic collection Runaway (2004).

For Munro, short stories were the result of practical considerations, rather than choice. As Alice Laidlaw, she had won a scholarship to the University of Western Ontario, but left after two years to marry James Munro at the age of 20; she gave birth to her first child at 22 and later played an important role in running a bookstore in Victoria, British Columbia, with her husband.

Trying simultaneously to establish herself as a writer (she had her first story published in an undergraduate magazine in 1950 and sold a piece to the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation in 1951), she had no time for novel-writing. The short story it had to be.

Routinely likened to Chekhov and Guy de Maupassant, Munro was more radical than the comparison implies. AS Byatt, a longstanding admirer, described how reading Munro made her want to try short fiction herself. Munro stretched and challenged the genre. Not only does she consistently wrongfoot the reader, overturning our expectations of characters and their actions, but she melds several narrative strands together, bringing into one tale several plots.

Jakarta (from The Love of a Good Woman, 1998) is a good example of this method, which has prompted the frequent observation that Munro’s short stories are novels in miniature. Jakarta starts with Kath and Sonje on the beach with Kath’s baby, trying to avoid the disapproving eyes of a group of overly domesticated mothers they have nicknamed the Monicas. Kath and Sonje, in contrast, discuss DH Lawrence and their own lives; clearly these two independent-minded women want more from life than marriage and motherhood seem to offer.

This was familiar ground for Munro, who wrote extensively and sensitively of women’s sexual awakening, escape from dull and politically incompatible husbands, and excruciating separation from children.

The surprise of Jakarta comes when Munro moves forward in time to visit Sonje as she is now, widowed and about to sell her Oregon dance school. It is not Kath who drops in on her inspirational friend, but Kent, Kath’s long divorced and boorish husband, taking with him wife No 3. The story then turns back to cover Kath’s mental disentanglement from her marriage, as well as Sonje’s own travails.

Elsewhere, Munro’s narrative shocks lie in cunning juxtaposition and scandalous honesty. In Five Points (in Friend of My Youth, 1990), Maria, a lonely schoolgirl, bankrupts her immigrant family by using the profits from their shop to pay local boys for sexual favours. Her story is recounted by Neil, the “boyish man beginning to age”, with whom married Brenda has been enjoying an affair. As Neil recalls Maria, Brenda and he stumble into their first argument and their own relationship moves to another, more complex, level. The story recalls the brutal realism of Raymond Carver as much as the American gothic of Carson McCullers.

Like Five Points, the magnificent title story of Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage (2001) is an exercise in what could be termed Canadian gothic.

The apparently dull-witted heroine, Johanna Parry (“No beauty queen, ever”), appears for much of the story to be heading for tragedy. She leaves her position as a housekeeper, tricked into believing she has an offer of marriage by the malicious letter writing of two schoolgirls. But the force of her delusion, not to mention her personality, makes that marriage come about, and life with her husband, once a drunken bankrupt, a success.

At the close of the story it is Edith, one of the letter writers, who feels foolish and confused, and Johanna who has transcended expectations. Munro’s penultimate and bleakest work, Too Much Happiness (2009), sees characters facing infanticide, cancer and sexual perversion, with Munro working against anticipated outcomes in much the same way.

Munro said of her fiction: “There is always a starting point in reality.” Her own starting point was the town of Wingham, Huron County, Ontario, where she was born, to Anne (nee Chamney), a former schoolteacher, and Robert Laidlaw, a fox farmer. They are frequent presences in her stories, as is the town, which appears variously renamed as Jubilee, Dalgleish, Hanratty, Logan, Carstairs and Walley.

Much of her fiction is closely tied to the smalltown farming communities of the area with whom she identified (she once described herself as “educated to be a farmer’s wife”).

On her marriage to James in 1951, Munro moved away, first to Vancouver, but after her divorce in 1972 she returned to Ontario, eventually settling with her second husband, the geographer Gerald Fremlin, whom she married in 1976, in Clinton, only about 20 miles from Wingham.

The View from Castle Rock (2006) contains some of Munro’s most personal stories, drawing on pieces she had been working on for years about her family history. It is an account of the pioneers from whose stock she came (her ancestors, the Scottish Presbyterian Laidlaws and the Irish Anglican Chamneys, were among the first settlers in Upper Canada in the early 19th century). But it is also something of a love letter to Ontario, a record of disappearing towns and a disappearing way of life.

A writer’s writer, Munro reached international critical attention when her work began to feature in the New Yorker, from 1977, and she continued to be feted: her last work, Dear Life (2012), published when she was 81, was as strongly received as any other. Indeed, the near tragedy of the opening story, To Reach Japan, and the frank reflections on death and dementia in Dolly and In Sight of the Lake suggest a writer undiminished by age. But she shunned the literary limelight, claiming that she knew of her shortlisting for the Nobel, awarded in 2013, only the day before the prize was announced.

The esteem in which she was held was evident in the genuine, warm response from writers around the world, including her compatriot Margaret Atwood, who described Munro’s win as a “magnificent occasion”. Munro’s own reaction was self-effacing. In a statement issued through her publishers, she said: “I am particularly glad that winning this award will please so many Canadians. I am happy too that this will bring more attention to Canadian writing.” She also noted that the prize was “a wonderful thing for the short story”.

Munro constantly distanced her life from her fiction. “Some of these stories are closer to my own life than others are, but not one of them is as close as people seem to think,” she wrote in the introduction to The Moons of Jupiter (1982).

It is easy to see why the two can become confused, however. Castle Rock reveals the roots of several of her fictions, such as A Wilderness Station (Open Secrets, 1994), which takes as its starting point the death of one of her ancestors, felled by a tree. Later she would describe the four final stories of Dear Life as “the closest things I have to say about my own life”. Interestingly, the focus of this raw quartet is childhood trauma and the mother figure. Her own mother died in 1959 after 20 years of Parkinson’s disease.

Munro’s approach to writing meant that any basis in reality was distorted in the long process of refining and rewriting her work (her manuscripts, she said, were long, loose screeds). Who Do You Think You Are? was pulled from the press at the author’s insistence (and her own expense) one month before publication, and half the book reorganised and rewritten.

Munro had constantly experimented with first- and third-person narratives during its creation, and worried whether the real focus of her writing was Rose (the subject of many stories) or another character, Janet. Her perfectionism paid off: like her first publication, Dance of the Happy Shades (1968), and The Progress of Love (1986), Who Do You Think You Are? won the governor general’s award for fiction in Canada. In 2009, unusually for a short story writer, she won the Man Booker International prize for her overall contribution to fiction.

Her sparkling intelligence, sly humour and sense of narrative marked her out as one of the outstanding authors of her generation. Her long service to the short story made Munro important, and this was recognised in reviews of Lying Under the Apple Tree (2011), a selection of her stories. Writers seldom really change the direction of a genre: she did.

Fremlin died in 2013. With her first husband she had four daughters, one of whom, Catherine, died shortly after birth. Munro is survived by her daughters Sheila, Jenny and Andrea.

🔔 Alice Ann Munro, writer, born 10 July 1931; died 13 May 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #Alice Munro #in memoriam

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greyskyflowers · 1 year

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✨🌙 Magic AU ideas for fun ✨🌙

~ Please credit me if you use any of these.

🕸️ Ink spiders

Spider like creatures that tend to live in places with lots of ink (think libraries, book stores, antique shops, etc).

Most people think the black spindling legs are the creature and it's made of ink (hence the name), but the spiders are actually made of the spaces between words, the black ink is the shadow. They're very thin and you have to get close and look sideways at them to faintly see their actual bodies, which almost look like very thin glass threads. More of a distortion in the air than an actual image. Leave ink splatters when startled and make little clinking noises like tea cups when they get curious enough to climb something you've left close enough to the page.

**Think that photo of camels in desert where people think shadows are the camels

🚪Little shops in between the books on shelves in antique and bookstore.

They look like little miniature houses/apartments but they aren't fond of people lingering so if you look away they'll shut the doors and windows by the time you look again.

Some even take their welcome mats back inside.

🌌 Planetary rings can be bought for an unbelievable price but only the best magic users have them. They make amazing engagement and/or wedding rings.

🐠 If you find the right crosswalk in the rain, you will loo down between the painted line over a mirror image of the city, see fish swimming, leaves floating, etc. Stepping on the blocks gets you across but stepping in the water spins you around and you end up in the city. If you look up you'll see the blocks in the sky and fish swimming high above like clouds. You can watch people walking across the street above you.

This is the only way to find certain magic market places and it can be hard to find the right crosswalk. People usually end jumping in lots of puddles trying to find the right one.

**You leave the same way

🌧️ Kitchen clouds that rain spices

🌊 The most expensive and rare lace is foam from the sea pulled off at high tide under a full moon. White with the gentlest hints of blue, perfectly imperfect in it's details. They say it smells of salt and feels cool against the skin.

**Sold by mermaids, sirens, ocean nymphs. If you buy if from someone else it's probably fake

💡Sting lights that fly off the string when not in use and flicker on and off around the room. When you ask for light or turn it on, they all come floating in to sit on the string at their spots.

**Like lightning bugs but just little puffs of light

🌱 Rooms where grass grows on the floor or up between floorboards. Wildflowers and clover joining it. Sometimes sunflowers pop up to keep depressed or sick people company, common in hospitals

🛁 Night bath bombs: Black ones that turn the water black and silver dust forms accurate constellations in the water.

Cloud bath bombs: White ones that cover the top of the water in rolling puffs that look like cotton but dissipate like fog when you wave your hand through it.

Ocean bath bombs: Blue ones that foam and make small waves, sea salt scent and the grit of sand at the bottom of the tub.

Rain bath bombs: Grey ones that smell like rain and look like puddles, the occasional leaf or two floating by, and the perfect warm summer rain feel and smell.

🎨 Colorful butterflies like paint chips travel together and always form beautiful murals when they land. They usually stay for awhile before getting up to move their artwork to somewhere else.

🐙 Upside down flowers that move like octopus, the petals like little legs they scurry around on. They sometimes produce pollen puffs when startled or angry.

🦷 Dentists that do teeth whitening for vampires

👗 Dresses with flower edges, the skirt made of stems all going up to form the waist with leaves occasionally helping to cover and the flowers all at the bottom. Living dresses.

Along the same thought, flowers that weave in your hair and stay, Ivy, lavender, gardenia, etc.

🥪 Swamp houses on giant lilly pads with monsters that lives in the muddy waters, ancient beings that adore grilled cheese and will accept it as an offering of friendship.

🐾 Veterinarians that can speak multiple animal languages and can ask animals what's wrong as well as follow up on any neglect or abuse claims

⚓ Tattoos that move and change as the person does. Flowers that go through blooming and wilting. Words that change fonts. Animals that wonder around the body. Anchors that sink down to the feet. Watercolor that leaves the skin damp

🛒 Groceries that pop into your kitchen as you order them.

**They keep putting the milk in the wrong place and at this point you think it's just to fuck with you.

🪞 Store changing rooms have two types of rooms available, with mirrors that flatter and support, or mirrors that are brutally honest and occasionally hurtful.

💉 Werewolves that need to stay up to date on their rabies/disease shots instead of their flu shots.

💰 The best thieves and scammers are fae because they're amazing at getting information, names, numbers, etc. Also kitsune because of their remarkable cuunning and playfulness.

💧 Depression medicine that shoos away the rain clouds over your head

Calming tinctures that literally stop your head from spilling

Warming spells that start at you toes and roll up your body like sinking into warm water

Cooling spells that run down from the top of your head like a cool shower

💀 Classroom skeletons that teach their own classes and love dad jokes. Real ones that tell stories from their lives, or died very recently but it was in the middle of the semester and they still have shit to do. Fake skeletons that like to pretend they were famous/fictional people and spread completely ridiculous and often hilarious rumors.

🏘️ Ghost towns/neighborhoods like spirited away. Quiet and empty during the day but bustling streets and shops as the sun goes down. They aren't on maps for a reason - tip your hat or nod your head and remember your manners while quickly passing through

🌫️ Spells that hide your home from those with ill intentions. Sometimes they can't see your house or it looks abandoned. Sometimes it switches the roads around so none ever lead to you. Those with good intentions will always find their way to you, even if they get lost.

**Think irish proverb about the road rising up to meet you vibes

🗑️ The creature that lives in the break room trashcan always has the latest gossip and will gladly trade you some in return for some old coffee or a snack from the vending machine.

🐌 Sea slugs as street cleaners, make their way through the streets at night in slow wiggles like how they clean the bottom of the ocean.

**Often cause traffic delays if they get behind and can stay out til morning, so listen to the local morning radio to make sure to avoid any road closures due to slug

👁️ Seers make the best personal assistants, front desk, nurses, etc. Catch things right as they fall, will call and reschedule appointments before people know they need to, can make sure messages get where they need to go exactly when needed.

**Fake seers will sometimes try to pose as weathermen or similar to get some fame and money. They usually get booted quickly.

🌿 Eucalyptus that grows in the shower and greets you in the morning with happy waves and wishes you good night in the evening. Moss that grows on the floor like a rug and sprouts like flowers when it thinks you need some cheering up.

⌛ Time delays are a thing, however they must be approved by the time equality agency. You can request to change the hours in your day. For example, a student might request to have more time to study before their 7am final. If approved, they might have say 5am last 4 hours before time resumes as normal. However they'll have 4 hours removed at the end of their day.

**Kind of like daylight savings where the clock jumps forward and backwards

Usually this is reserved for very special situations as there's a lot of paperwork and requirements involved.

🚀 Spaceships gets stars stuck on the side, like boats get barnacles stuck to them, and they have to be scrapped off and throw back up into the sky

**Stars also go too low sometimes and get stuck in tree branches and gutters

🍄 Giant mushrooms used at part of the structure and/roof in forest homes. Living homes.

🌳 Willow trees are incredibly protective. If someone gets a willow whip mark (snapped a branch at them like a towel) it usually means they were somewhere they shouldn't have been.

🦋 Some butterflies have extra pollen on their wings that gets shaken off. This can be gathered and used in magic makeup - doesn't harm the butterfly as they shake it off themselves when it gets too heavy.

🐉 Fire flowers that burn blue at the base and end in flickering flames. Little embers in the middle like pollen. Very small dragons take the embers and soot like bees.

Please note that it's illegal to take anything from a dragon, including fire honey, but sometimes if you befriend them they'll trade you. Maybe a shell of honey for something shiney. They're fond of things like tinsel and shiney confetti, it's easy to carry and they sometimes wrap it around them like little scarves.

🗺️ Physical maps that direct you like Google maps but also refuse to ask for directions if they themselves get lost. Sometimes they fold on the sides like little arms on their hips when they're mad.

**Map: don't you dare pull over, take the turn in .5 miles.

Driver: There is no turn!

Map: Take the turn!

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