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studyingmoominvalley · 3 years

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my analysis of Moominvalley (2019)'s season one soundtrack

(yeah I may not be great at this and I may be missing a lot, but bare in mind this is my analysis, not anyone else's. Please be nice to me ;-;)

I'm Far Away:

Snufkin has travelled for the Winter. The first verse is like Moomin leaving letters in Snufkin's bag, wishing him with good travels and a safe return hope. Snufkin is longing for something to change, or maybe something in him to change... The second verse is more talking about his travels and how he longs to return no matter what happens.

Starlight:

I don't know, reading this and thinking of Snufmin makes me concerned. It's SO obvious that it's from Moomin's perspective that it gives me a cavaty. "Please say you'll never leave 'cause it's in your hands" If that wasn't obvious enough, idk what is. This is him just... wanting to be with Snufkin. He knows deep down that Snufkin has to travel, yes it's in his hands but not completely. It's a part of him. This is obviously his mind in a point of time where he hasn't gotten used to Snufkin being away from him, possibly what is reflected in Teety-Woo.

Summer Day:

Moomin doesn't like the Winter because it feels wrong without Snufkin. But he has Snorkmaiden with him at least, and that's good enough right? Snorkmaiden loves Moomin, almost in a similar way Moomin loves Snufkin, but Moomin just feels tied down in the relationship. He thinks he's just thinking like an adult, like a moody teenager or something. But then again, he feels Snufkin is the only one who understands him ("But when you put your hands in my hands/You speak a language only us can understand"). It feels like Summer with Snufkin, but not with Snorkmaiden. He reassures himself that Spring is coming and that he'll see the one who knows him best soon.

Back To The Cave:

We get to look into Snufkin's brain, ooo! This is mainly about Snufkin's feelings about himself and how he hides his true emotions from Moomin and the others. "They can't see behind the camouflage" this is him hiding behind a wise and carefree persona, when deep down he is conflicted about almost everything. It seems when he runs out of things to say or when he fears that he'll show his emotions, he finds time to be alone, shown by the lines "We're running out of punchlines/So watch us crawl/We're crawling back to the cave". But his feelings are getting too much, his fears of being forgotten most likely because he doesn't express himself in the way he should "There's a storm/It's rising". So basically he doesn't know what to do anymore. And I guess the "you can't be truly free if you admire somebody too much" quote can link to "There's no time/There's no place for idles", showing more that this is about Snufkin's emotions.

Love Me With All Your Heart:

now this song choice was intentional. This is mutual pining, their emotions mixing into the same song. They've loved each other for a long time, be it platonic turning to romance or be it always romantic. They both want each other, they both long for each other. But they don't wish for their relationship to change, they want it to stay the same ("When we're far apart or when you're near me", "Love me always as you've loved me from the start").

Home Again:

Snufkin is back home, and he could not be happier. Yeah he likes to travel and be with his thoughts, but nothing is better than being with Moomin, shown by the lines "Nothing could be better/Than when I hold you close to me" and "Who I was back then and who I am now/Makes no difference when I'm by your side".

There Is Something In The Forest:

One day, Moomin and Snufkin are just adventuring as they usually do. But something feels different. Something new. Moomin realises it that night, when sitting hand in hand with Snufkin. He finds himself losing track of time, only paying attention to his friend. When he goes home, all he can think of is Snufkin. He thinks of it as he walks, embracing his new emotions as love, a deep love, for Snufkin. And he never wants to let it go. Ever.

Home:

Moomin has noticed how off Snufkin has been acting, and one day he decides to comfort him. He tells him that if he ever feels like he needs to hide ("Sometimes you only want to hide") or that nobody is there for him, that Moomin will always be there for him. This song can also link to Snufkin's own saying "You must go on a long journey before you find out how wonderful home is", and seems like Snufkin has found his home in Moomintroll.

All Small Beasts:

nah this is crime anthem. Little My is cheering Snufkin up, telling him that people with lots of dreams, emotions and all that should just let it out in a huge show! Commit crime! Burn some signs! Fuck Hemulens, who's to say what they can or can't do? The first verses are her making fun of people being neat and telling Snufkin that bottling up your emotions is just going to tease at you and bite you in the tail one day. But this can also be seen in another way, brought to my attention by my friend Bloom. It can be a song about owning up to your mistakes instead of keeping them away.

Free Spirit:

must I say anything? Snufkin likes being alone and free. The second verse is what I want to focus on however. He knows it's good to be alone and not worry about anything, but his avoiding of responsibility is doing him worse than he knows (much like the "owning up to mistakes" analysis by my friend Bloom).

Country Air:

This is what Snufkin wishes he could say to Moomin. They're relaxing together in Summer, Moomin asleep. Snufkin is thinking in his brain about how much he loves him and just wishes he could say SOMETHING. Winter is coming soon, almost time for them to part. Maybe he can ponder more on his emotions then?

By Your Side:

it seems Snufkin is accepting and returning Moomin's offering of comfort, showing that he cares for Moomin and that he doesn't even need to ask for help, he'll do anything to make him happy.

In Blue:

oh boy

Snufkin fears he made a mistake already. He let out his emotions. Even when reassured that it was okay to do so, he feels utterly guilty, shown by the lines "I built a house from sticks and twine/And you said it would serve me fine/But then the rain could soak me through". He begins to fear that he's being put up with, like he doesn't matter anymore ("Anything to keep me quiet"). But he can't help but feel a strong admiration for Moomin. Snufkin has made so many mistakes, and has so many bad feelings ("I caught a fever like I always do"), yet Moomin is still his friend ("And still you let me stand with you, in blue"). He feels his emotions are his fault, and wonders if he should just stay in the valley and own up to his mistakes and allow others to show their true emotions for him, shown by the lines "I bet next year I'll see you all the time/The fault is all deserved as mine", "Was it all on purpose?/Was this true?" and "Tell me and be honest, was this you?". The phrase "In Blue" could refer to the saying "into the blue", which refers to the unknown. Snufkin is "In Blue" because he is in a stage where he is unsure of what he is hearing and wants to know if it's true or not.

Nothern Lights:

Snufkin's feelings for Moomin are increasing to what is obvious to him as love. "Will you find peace in your heart?" this line could be Snufkin talking to himself. Will be ever come to peace with his emotions and open up?

Ready Now:

Moomin has been there for Snufkin all this time. Through all his doubts, through all his sadness. Snufkin has no idea how to express himself, so Moomin helps him. They take it in turns to just talk about things, and "To my surprise we found my words". All this time, Snufkin believed himself to be free. But now he knows that opening up and embracing how you feel is true freedom. He is ready now.

The Author:

This is more about Moomin. He feels like his future will be like his father's, he already met Snorkmaiden during a big childhood adventure after all, just like Pappa. But he finds his story is changing. He's fallen in love with Snufkin. He slowly realises that his future is his own and that he is in charge of his story. And his story begins with being there for his best friend.

#moomins #moominvalley #snufkin #moomin #moomintroll #snufmin #analysis #soundtrack

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jancmalandra · 4 years

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On first encounters with adult Moomins

Part IV: The Snork

Snork Maiden was the first to tell her brother about Moomintroll and Snufkin leaving for the South together the previous Fall. She told Snork everything that Moominmama had said to her and asked if she could hibernate at his home instead of Moominhouse. She explained that it would be too painful for her to be that close to Moomintroll's family until she had a chance to ask for his and Snufkin's forgiveness in the Spring. Snork was completely floored by the implications of what she told him.

Snork had spent his life in pursuit of scientific knowledge. That he had missed all of the signs of how Moomintroll and Snufkin felt for each other for years bothered him. He prided himself on being impartial, rational and observant, but when it came to other's emotions he had to admit that he had a huge blind spot. Perhaps it was his upbringing. His parents were cold, unfeeling, and only interested in practical results from their children. They were also nobility and determined to protect their image and standing in society from any hint of scandal, so they had tried to pass all of their prejudices on to him. Had they been more successful than Snork wanted to admit?

No; that wasn't it. He had risen up through academic circles like a meteor through his staggering intellect not just because it suited his nature, but because he wanted to rescue Snork Maiden from their parents. She was their opposite in every way; imaginative, open-minded, artistic, sensitive, sentimental, and caring. She would have withered under their direct attention, so he bore the burden of tolerating all of their intolerance instead of her until he could make his own way in the world and find a place where both him and his sister could live out their dreams in peace and happiness.

Winning his first patent for his Personal Amphibious Vehicle gave Snork the money he needed to move himself and Snork Maiden to Moominvalley for good. His family had always thought of the tiny village as a vacation spot, but Snork knew it would be the perfect refuge for the two of them. He claimed his family's vacation home as their own and vowed never to see his parents again. He had wanted nothing to do with their twisted views.

When Snork Maiden and Moomintroll had fallen in love at first sight, Snork had pinned all of his hopes for her future on the two of them marrying when they were old enough. The thought that Moomintroll could also love someone else just as much, especially Snufkin, was one that he hadn't allowed to enter his head. He thought Snork Maiden might lose her chance at happiness. He thought that Moomintroll should only choose his sister. Admitting he was wrong wasn't going to be easy.

When Snork Maiden left their house on the first day of Spring, she had told him all about her intention to build a new kind of family with Moomintroll and Snufkin. He hadn't had the courage to say anything, even to wish her well. It was all too much to take in. As lunchtime approached, Snork decided he had to face everything head on and give his blessing to the three of them, so he headed for Moominhouse, filled with determination. The last person he expected to meet on the way and to change his plans was Sniff.

Sniff ran into Snork right in front of Moomintroll and Snufkin's tents. Sniff started raving about how everyone in the Moomin family had been changed somehow and that no one in the world really wanted him around anymore. Sniff was completely incoherent with fear and sadness and was weeping uncontrollably. What was worse, he was literally fading right before Snork's eyes! Sniff's fur went from brown to dull gray, then his whole body slowly became more and more transparent!

"Stop it, Sniff!", said Snork, "You're turning yourself invisible! Hold on to my paws, and I'll take you back to my house! I'll find a way to help you, I swear! Just don't let go of me, whatever you do!"

Snork's show of compassion kept Sniff just visible enough for Snork to get him to the spare room in his home safely. Snork ran to his laboratory and got his spare lab coat for Sniff. By the time he returned to Sniff, Sniff had become totally invisible! Snork quickly put the lab coat on Sniff. It was most alarming to see a lab coat seemingly floating in midair on its own, but it was all Snork could think to do at the moment to be able to keep from losing track of Sniff. Snork couldn't think of a single test he could try, a single chemical formula he could use to help Sniff. There was only one person he could think of who could possibly help Sniff now; Moominmama.

Snork headed back to Moominhouse at top speed after strictly instructing Sniff to stay in the guest room and promising him that he was going to find a cure no matter what. As Snork approached Moominhouse's front door, he quickly collected himself and tried to appear as calm as possible. He entered the parlor to find Snufkin, Moomintroll, and his sister holding paws on the love seat and Moominpapa and Moominmama seated at the parlor table, beaming happily at the three of them. Moominmama immediately turned to Snork.

"Oh! Snork!", she said, "You wouldn't have happened to run into Sniff on your way here, would you? He left very suddenly earlier, and we're just a little worried about him."

Snork knew that he was a terrible liar, so the best that he could manage was to leave the worst of the details out of his explanation so that he could spare everyone's feelings and prevent them from making Sniff's condition worse: "Actually, I did. He was in a panic and wasn't making any sense, so I took him back to my house to look after him. I came here to tell you that he's alright. However, it would be better if he didn't have any visitors for a while. He's worked himself into quite a state and he needs a lot of time before he'll be able to see everything the right way. This isn't anyone's fault, so there's no reason for anyone to feel guilty or blame themselves. I just need all of you to be patient and trust me to look after Sniff on my own for the time being. With any luck, he'll be completely better before the Summer is over."

Snork's response was so reasonable and calm that it reassured everyone for the most part, but it did put an end to the party. Snork congratulated his sister and Moomintroll and Snufkin on their new family and gave Snork Maiden his blessing to move into Moominhouse permanently. Snufkin and Moomintroll headed back to their tents and Snork Maiden went up to Moomintroll's old room a little reluctantly, but they were all exhausted after a very exciting day, so it wasn't all that hard for Snork and Moominmama to talk them into going to bed. Snork was then left alone with Moominmama and Moominpapa.

As Snork helped the two of them clean up the dining room and do the dishes, he explained about Sniff having turned himself invisible and he asked Moominmama for her invisibility cure recipe and thanked her for helping to keep the new family calm.

"The potion does help, but not in the way that you think.", explained Moominmama, "It gives the patient the sense that they're doing something concrete to help themselves and reassures them that the person who made it for them really does care. That's the really important part; that you keep showing Sniff how much you care. That's the real cure. You don't give yourself nearly enough credit for how compassionate and caring you are. I have complete faith in you. You will bring Sniff back to us, I know it!"

Snork took Moominmama's words to heart, and as he returned home, he thought carefully about all the things that he knew brought out the best in Sniff. Sniff liked tangible rewards and the hope of riches. Like his father, The Muddler, he liked shiny buttons and any other kind of small, collectible junk. Snork had always been astonished at the good results Sniff would happily deliver if he was promised a little reward that he could hold in his paws and admire. He had always enjoyed the games he had learned as a child and had never stopped playing them. Snork was going to have to appeal to all of these things that brought Sniff happiness every day in order to help him become visible again.

When he returned home, Snork made Sniff a simple offer; a place to stay, a warm bed, good food, play times together, and a piece of eight each week plus all the random small parts he could pick up from Snork's workshop floor in exchange for doing all of the housework and cooking and helping out in the workshop every day. Sniff responded more enthusiastically and effectively than Snork had hoped. Getting used to playing games and remembering to constantly praise and comfort Sniff also came more quickly to Snork than he had expected. Within a month, Sniff was completely visible again and Snork had gained a real sense of affection for and commitment to Sniff. Snork was pleasantly surprised to learn that Sniff had come to feel the same way about him. Both of them decided that they were willing to find out what these feelings meant together and at their own pace. They just knew that their new life felt really good and that they both wanted this new way of living.

The End

#moomin fanfiction #moomin #moomintroll #moominmama #moominpapa #moominvalley #snufkin #snufmin #snork maiden #sniff #the snork

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ebearskittychan · 4 years

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So I’ve decided to attempt writing a Moomin oneshot (yes I have OCs pls don’t kill me there’s no ship I promise)

The Story of the Rambler and Pikkupoika

Moominvalley sees many different sorts of creatures big and small throughout the seasons. Two of them whose stories you may never have heard before are a young woman named the Rambler, and her little brother Pikkupoika.

The Rambler sort of comes and goes in Moominvalley. The first several times she was seen, Snufkin seemed to be the only person she'd actually talk to. If you ask him and he feels like talking, he’ll say that he's run into her a couple times on his travels, and explain that she is wandering around the world searching for a place to call home. "You see, some of us wanderers have a place we can go back to when we're finished wandering—I always come back to Moominvalley in the spring. But others haven't found that spot yet. The Rambler hasn't found hers yet, so she continues to travel the world, looking for home."

Moomin finds this to be the saddest thought ever and wishes the young woman with the floppy, blue-beribboned sunhat and the pale blue sundress wouldn't walk away shyly whenever anyone tried to approach her. "Well, how will she know when she's found it, Snufkin?" he’s asked before.

Snufkin just shrugs. "Oh, I don't know, Moomin. When I found Moominvalley, I just knew it was home. Maybe for some wanderers, it doesn't come that easy."

Moomin sighs and watches the distant Rambler as she leans against the bridge near Moominhouse, silently watching the river, the wind blowing loose a few wispy light-brown strands from her tightly-braided bun that hides underneath her sunhat. "Oh, I do hope she finds her home soon, Snufkin. She must be so lonely."

One year, the Rambler rambles into Moominvalley in the early days of summer. Snufkin is well settled in by this point, his tent in its usual spot under the tree near the river, and is the first to be made aware of her arrival, mainly because her arrival is accompanied by the arrival of someone much louder.

"Sissy, sissy! Look! There's a big fish swimming in the river!"

The small boy with messy, choppy dark blonde hair that juts out in every direction, is younger than Moomin and his friends, but by no means a toddler or anything. In every way, it seems, Pikkupoika is entirely the Rambler's opposite. He runs, jumps, yells, sings, and happily plays with the other children, though his dark blue smock is ever getting in the mischievous boy’s way and tripping him up.

Sniff finds him a bit annoying at first, but the two of them soon relish in having ‘Loud Contests’ where the whole point of the game is to find out who's louder. Little My, who was not invited to play this particular game but joined anyway, is currently the reigning champion.

Pikkupoika gets along well with all of the children, and especially Moominmamma, who has always loved small children (and rather misses the days when her Moomin was so little), so the little tyke is often a guest at Moominhouse at all times of day.

But every night, the little one goes back to a campsite near the river, at the base of a grassy hill full of flowers, to tell his big sister of the adventures of the day. The Rambler is known for her quietness, but when she's with Pikkupoika, occasionally a musical laugh will ring out over the grassy hills of the valley. Moominmamma always says it's a hopeful sound, but also comments that she still wishes the Rambler would come over for tea—she worries about the girl.

One day, Pikkupoika brings the children to see the Rambler where she sits on a rock in front of their small, red tent, a leather-bound, green notebook and a set of lovely multicolored pens in her lap.

"Sissy, sissy, tell us all a story. Tell us the story of the fiendish ice salamander and the warrior princess!" Pikkupoika demands, his green eyes flashing with the excitement of youth and the admiration for a well-traveled older sibling that many older siblings will recognize.

(Snorkmaiden, of course, is shocked by the very concept of a warrior princess—princesses are far too refined for weapons—but even she has to admit that the story sounds fascinating.)

The Rambler is very blushy and shy and seems afraid to speak, her own green eyes staring down at her hands in her lap. But once Pikkupoika has sat down there, looking up at her expectantly, she finally begins, very quietly, to tell a story.

They quickly realize that her name has a double meaning--the Rambler not only rambles the world, but is also quite the storyteller, even if a little bit guilty of occasionally running off on some tangent for a bit.

Once the story is over and the warrior princess has vanquished the ice salamander (all without the help of a prince or knight, to Snorkmaiden's astonishment—"Well, I never!"), the Rambler falls silent and wordlessly waves the children off to play again with the smallest of smiles.

"She seems very nice," says Moomin after they’ve found somewhere new to play.

"Oh, she is very nice, much nicer than the old witch," Pikkupoika assures him emphatically as he attempts to climb a small tree, despite his smock’s getting in the way.

"The ‘old witch?’" Little My asks in curiosity. "That's not a very nice thing to call your mother."

"Oh, she wasn't our mother," Pikkupoika explains. "She took us from our parents when I was very little and the Rambler was much younger—payment of some sort, I think. I don't remember anything about them, but Rambler says they were almost as scary as the old witch."

"What sort of parents would sell their children to an old witch?" Moomin asks, stunned by the very idea. He could never, ever imagine Moominpappa and Moominmamma doing such a thing.

"Not very good ones," Little My asserts. "You're surely better off without them."

"But then, if you were stuck with an old witch, why did the Rambler come and go without you?" Sniff asks, confused. "That doesn't seem very nice of her."

Pikkupoika shrugs, now caught by his smock upside down in the tree branches, arms folded across his chest as he leans against the trunk, his dirty-blonde hair pointing down at the ground in crazy bits and spikes. "I was too little, then. I would have cried and woken up the witch when we ran away. Rambler ran away first chance she got, once she was a bit older, but she always came back to visit me sometimes in the middle of the night, with stories and treats from the world far away.

“And once I was old enough to walk so far, she took me with her, and we've never gone back to the witch's house since," he concludes.

"I hope she doesn't come after you," Moomin worries. "The Groke is rather like a witch, and when her ruby was stolen, she stalked Moominvalley for nights until she received something in trade."

"Pooh," Little My snorts. "I bet the witch doesn't even care they're gone."

"I don't know," Pikkupoika sighs, currently trying to free himself from the branches.

Moomin finally shakes off his thoughts enough to help his little friend down from the tree.

"But Rambler is very brave,” the little boy continues. “She'd protect the both of us if the witch came after us."

Little My snorts even harder. "That shy thing? I don't think she's ever even heard the word ‘brave.’"

"Don't be so rude, Little My," Sniff admonishes the tiny Mymble.

"Ninny was very quiet, but very brave," Moomin reminds her.

"And Rambler is too brave!" Pikkupoika huffs, stumbling around a bit as all his blood rushes back out of his head now that he's on his feet again. "When you ramble alone, you encounter many monsters, and none of them have managed to truly harm her yet."

Moomin tells Moominmamma the whole story of his encounter with the Rambler, and she becomes more determined than ever to get through to the silent girl with the floppy sunhat and the ever-present notebook.

"She's just a cat sort of person," she remarks to Moominpappa one evening as she watches Pikkupoika hurry back to Rambler for the night. The smell of some sort of delicious stew floats across the hills towards Moominhouse. At least the girl can cook, Moominmamma thinks to herself. At least I know she isn't hungry.

"What do you mean by a cat sort of person?" Moominpappa questions. "You mean like a Mumrik, like my old traveling companion the Joxter?"

"No, no, dear," Moominmamma shakes her head as she stands up from one of her flower gardens and carefully dusts off her old apron. "I mean, like a cat, you have to slowly win her trust, getting a little closer at a time."

Moominpappa finally looks up from the papers he's working over, on the table set on the veranda of the Moominhouse, and snorts. "You really think you can tame the Rambler?"

Moominmamma gives a resolute nod. "If I can heal colds, get Snufkin to sleep inside on rainy nights, and bring invisible girls back to light, I think I can tame the Rambler, dear."

Moominpappa gives a small laugh and returns to his memoirs. "If anyone can, it's you, Mamma."

And so begins Moominmamma's quest to ‘tame the Rambler.’ At first, she waits until the Rambler has left camp to ramble the hills and vales and write and sketch in her notebook, and leaves small trinkets and treats at the campsite--jars of raspberry juice or gooseberry jam, small baskets of cookies or biscuits, at one point a lovely new light blue ribbon for the Rambler’s sunhat, since Moominmamma noticed the old one is beginning to fray.

Finally, one day, as Moominmamma leaves a basket full of small strawberry pies atop a rock near the red canvas tent, a tiny voice addresses her, hidden inside a patch of tall grass and wildflowers nearby.

"Strawberry's my favorite, you know. Thank you."

"You're welcome, my dear," Moominmamma answers gently, not pressing any and not trying to spot the Rambler where she hides in the grass, probably cloudwatching. "I'll remember that. I think Pikkupoika mentioned that anything sweet is his favorite."

A tiny giggle comes from the grass, followed by more silence. Moominmamma allows herself a small smile of victory and returns home across the river once more.

The children continue to occasionally talk Rambler into sharing a story or two—their favorite soon becomes the tale of when Snufkin thought he was rescuing her from a cruel king once when they ran across each other on their travels, only to discover that the Rambler was exactly where she wanted to be—trying to silently pickpocket a magical object from the cruel king that actually belonged to the rightful king, so that he'd be able to return to the throne.

Snufkin did come in handy later on during their great escape from the dungeon—"He said he'd had a great deal of experience digging his way out of prisons with nothing more than his trusty can opener," the Rambler explains.

(Moomin later asks Snufkin why he never told him of this grand adventure. "Oh, you know," Snufkin shrugs as he fishes for minnows in the stream. "So many dull things happen that sometimes I forget all about the exciting ones."

"You're lying," Moomin accuses. "I just know you are."

Snufkin just smiles knowingly without looking at his friend, and Moomin sighs in defeat, knowing no one can make Snufkin say a word when he doesn't want to.)

But besides the Rambler’s occasional storytelling moments and the rare times she's seen sitting near-ish Snufkin while he plays his harmonica and she writes (they hardly ever seem to talk, just silently keep the other company in their own withdrawn way), it seems as though very little progress is being made on Moominmamma's part.

Concerned, Moominmamma waits until Snufkin is sitting alone on the veranda one hot and humid July evening, and decides to try questioning him about it. Snufkin is always reticent, true, but he's always spoken to Moominmamma about things when he knows they're important.

"Why can't I get the Rambler to come visit?" she asks him, mild frustration in her voice. They both know that she's not upset with the girl, just upset that she hasn't managed to get through to her yet. "I worry about the girl. She spends so much time alone..."

"I spend so much time alone, and I'm fine," Snufkin reminds her calmly.

"Oh, I know," Moominmamma sighs, crossing her hands over her red-and-white-striped apron and standing near Snufkin as he leans against the porch railing. "But your loneness is different, Snufkin, and I know you can see it. You like to be alone. I think that's part of the Rambler's loneness, too, but I think the girl is often very lonely, which is another sort of thing altogether."

Snufkin allows a small nod of agreement, but doesn't say anything.

"Oh, Snufkin," Moominmamma sighs sadly, giving her head a slow shake. "Why can't I get through to her? Why can't I help her?"

Snufkin eyes Moominmamma out of the corner of his eye for a second, but then turns his gaze back to the setting sunset. He closes his eyes. "Let me tell you a story, Moominmamma."

Part of Moominmamma wants to gently complain that now is not exactly the time for a story, but Snufkin so rarely tells stories (and never speaks when it's not important) that she knows better than to interrupt. So, she stays quiet, listening.

Snufkin has this sort of sad smile on his face, like he often does. "Let's say that once there was a cat, a very kind and friendly cat, the sort that cuddles and purrs and is always very glad to see you."

The Mumrik-Mymble boy is quiet for a long moment before continuing. "Now let's say that this cat was sold away to someone very cruel, someone who had no interest in cuddles, or purrs, or having anyone be very glad to see them, someone always shouting ‘You're being too loud!’ or ‘Get out of the room when I'm in it!’ or ‘You're no use for anything!’ or dreadful things like that." Snufkin pauses once more, brown eyes now open and staring at the distant Lonely Mountains, expression still calm.

"Oh, that person sounds as horrible as Ninny's aunt," Moominmamma comments quietly. "I'd still like to give that dreadful woman a piece of my mind."

Snufkin allows himself a small smile at the comment before continuing as if there had been no interruption.

"The cat didn't let that very cruel person stop her. She still cuddled, and purred, and was very glad to see people." He pauses again, but not as long this time. "So, the cat left behind the very cruel person and the kitten they lived with, who was far too young to travel at that time, and went out to see the world.

"But gentle cats who travel alone are often chased, or teased, or worse. In some places, people like to maim cats, or stomp on their tails. This cat got away from any horrible scrapes, but she saw a few terrible things that frightened her and stayed with her on the inside. And she learned very quickly that those cats who cuddle, and purr, and are very glad to see people, are often the cats who are chased, and teased, and stepped upon, and burned the very most.

"Eventually she grew exhausted from trying, exhausted from her gentle ways always being met with cruelty. ‘Everyone in the whole world must be cruel,’ she decided one night, hidden alone in a very dark place. ‘I don't want to be their friends anymore. I'm frightened they'll keep hurting and attacking me—'"

"Oh, the poor dear," Moominmamma interjects, unable to help herself. "The poor, poor dear."

Snufkin eyes her again for a moment before continuing. "But despite everything that happened, the gentle cat didn't want to think everyone was cruel, which led her to think something else, something just as sad. ‘Maybe the problem is with me. Maybe I'm a very broken or mangy cat. Maybe I can't be loved. Maybe that's why everybody is so unkind to me, because I'm an abandoned cat who ran away from her mistress, to go and see the world on my own. Maybe there is no home for a cat like me.’"

The boy pulls his hat down over his eyes a bit to shield out the setting sun that's now right at his eye level. "But as she was sitting in that very dark place, a wanderer came across her, and asked what she was doing sitting in such a very dark and very cold place all by herself."

Moominmamma has a guess as to who this wanderer was, but says nothing. She knows that if she breaks the spell by telling Snufkin she knows he is speaking of himself, that she will never again have a chance to hear this part of the story.

"The wanderer helped the gentle cat find a warm supper and a fire to sit by. She was afraid to speak, so the wanderer didn't push at her. The wanderer understood very well that sometimes, it's far better to be quiet, and that sometimes, if people ask us to talk when we aren’t ready, all it does is lock the words up inside our mouths even more.

"The gentle cat and the wanderer traveled together in silence for a few days. The gentle cat helped make and break camp, and helped cook meals, but always stayed out of reach of the wanderer; never quite met his eyes; was always very, very careful not to be too close. The wanderer could tell she was afraid, and since some who wander the world are very unkind, he understood her trepidation. He kept his distance; never crowded the cat."

Oh, but that's what I've been doing, Moominmamma wants to interrupt, but again, she knows better. Why isn't it working? Why can't I get the gentle cat to see I am not cruel, or dreadful, or spiteful, or mean?

"Eventually," Snufkin goes on, "the gentle cat finally spoke to the wanderer. ‘Why have you been so kind with me? What do you want from me? When are you going to turn on me?’"

He pauses then for such a long time that Moominmamma is half afraid that he has finished with his tale.

Finally, he speaks up again. "‘I want nothing from you, friend cat,’ the wanderer told her, ‘save your smile, and your friendly ways, and your company. Even wanderers need friends at times, you know. I trust the same is true for gentle cats.’

“The cat thought that over for a very long time, before asking in a shaking mew, ‘But who would wish to be friends with a cat who is mangy, and unlovable, and unwanted, who has been spat upon, and kicked, and scolded for being cuddly and purring and being very glad to see people, and had her tail stepped upon, and dishwater dumped upon her head, and has very nearly been maimed or burnt before?’

"The wanderer had guessed that the gentle cat knew cruelty well, but even he was surprised and saddened by the things the cat told him. The wanderer knew how the world was filled with cruelty and sarcasm and fuss and misery, but sometimes, it surprised him to remember just how much of those awful things there are floating around in the world.

"So, the wanderer was quiet and let the cat sit across the fire and cry for a bit. But once she'd finished, the wanderer told her something important, something the cat later told him helped change her whole perspective on life.

"The wanderer told her, ‘Things can only hurt you as long as they're inside of you—a germ, a knife, especially words and thoughts. If they're not inside of you, they can't hurt you.’

“The cat replied in a sad yowl, ‘Oh, but how can you get them out when they written upon your heart and your brain in indelible ink?’"

"‘You must get them out,’ the wanderer advised her. ‘You mustn't let them stay inside you. Put them on paper, put them in song, put them anywhere else but inside you.’

“The cat cried, ‘Oh, but what if I forget and make the same mistakes again?’

“The wanderer answered her, ‘They will always be written on the paper where you can remember them if you must, or even use them to teach others to never make the same mistakes. But they don't have to stay inside you.’

"And so the gentle cat became a storyteller," Snufkin finally concludes, a sad sort of smile on his face. "She wrote, and she drew, and she told stories, and she rambled. She continued to get in and out of scrapes, sometimes with the wanderer, usually alone, and she always went back to visit her friend the kitten and tell the little one of her adventures and stories."

Snufkin seems now to be finished, so Moominmamma says sadly, "But she still never cuddles, or purrs, or tells people she's very glad to see them."

"Oh, she does," Snufkin corrects her gently, nodding at Pikkupoika as he runs across the wooden bridge Moominpappa built several springs ago and into the Rambler's waiting arms. "Just only for the kitten, for the one person she's cuddled and purred at and been very glad to see without ever having suffered for it."

"But how can the gentle cat ever be taught to cuddle, and purr, and tell people she's very glad to see them again?" Moominmamma asks sadly, feeling more for the Rambler now than ever before.

Snufkin gives her a long look before stepping down off the veranda. "She must get rid of the dreadful thing inside her that's still stopping her, I suppose. Now, good night to you, Moominmamma. Tell Moomin I said I'd meet him on the bridge bright and early tomorrow morning."

The next day, Moominmamma is more resolute than ever to reach the Rambler. So, she goes and sits quietly in front of the Rambler and Pikkupoika's tent, picking flowers and gently tying them into crowns and bracelets as she waits.

Eventually, the Rambler appears, a pail of spring water in her hands, walking quietly, rather dreamily over the hill. When she sees Moominmamma, she jumps a bit. Moominmamma doesn't say anything or look up, so quietly, cautiously, the Rambler places the pail of water down and sits down on her rock, pulling her notebook out of the satchel she always carries, eyeing Moominmamma warily.

A few minutes later, Moominmamma is poked in the back by something. She starts a bit, and picks it up to find a paper airplane with the words ‘Open Me’ penned on the wings. When she glances back at the Rambler, the girl is blushing a bit, her pale, freckled face mostly hidden by her notebook.

Moominmamma opens the paper airplane to find inside a beautiful sketch of herself from a behind sort of angle, sitting on the grass and tying flowers.

"Thank you, Rambler dear," Moominmamma says gently. "This is lovely. I'll hang it up in the kitchen, where everyone can see it."

The Rambler doesn't answer, and continues to hide behind her notebook.

Moominmamma carefully places the drawing in her lap and turns away again, going back to tying her flowers. "When I was a young girl..." she pauses for a long moment to think of how to word this, thinking over all of Snufkin's words the night before. "When I was a very young girl, and there were things inside me that I wanted to get out but couldn't seem to figure out how, I would always speak to my Mamma. She always listened, never judged, and always helped me feel so much better."

The Rambler is silent, and Moominmamma certainly does not wish to come off as presumptuous, so she quickly adds, "Every young boy or girl should have someone like that, someone to confide in."

The Rambler makes a small sniffling noise. Moominmamma is tempted to snap her head up, wanting to respond to the crying that must be accompanying it, but certainly not wanting to chase the cat away when she is this close.

Instead, she says gently, "Everyone deserves to know they are loved, no matter what they do, or say, or how they think, or who they are, or no matter what dreadful sorts of things have happened to them—oh, especially then."

The Rambler's snifflings continue, a little bit harder now.

Moominmamma finally chances a careful glance in her direction. "Everyone deserves to know they are loved, Rambler. Even you, dear."

The Rambler suddenly springs to her feet, throwing her notebook down, her face very bright red. "Why do you care? Why come make fun of me? The only one who loves me is Pikkupoika, and I'm lucky for that much. Nobody else could love a dreadful mess like me, thrown away, sold away, run away, chased away..."

Moominmamma says nothing for a long moment while the Rambler's breath comes in angry huffs, her hands clenched in small fists at her sides, the skirt of her pale blue sundress fluttering a bit about her knees in the hot midsummer breeze.

Finally, Moominmamma says gently, "Pikkupoika isn't the only one who loves you, dear. Moomin thinks your stories are absolutely riveting, and loves recounting them to Moominpappa and me. Sniff always complains that he wishes he could try your cooking, it smells so good. Even Little My admits that you seem nice, and coming from her, that's the grandest of compliments."

The Rambler continues to huff, but her eyes aren't looking at Moominmamma anymore; they're looking very, very far away.

Moominmamma continues quietly. "And I know Snufkin loves you; he never lets anybody sit with him when he's in one of his lone moods. And yet, because you two are cut from the same sort of cloth in some ways, because you understand each other in some ways, he doesn't mind having you present at those times. Those are important sorts of friendship, you know. The people we are willing to be with when we want to avoid everybody else are some of our best friends.”

"Moomin is his best friend," Rambler comments quietly, her eyes still distant. "He always mentions him, whenever we come across each other in our travels."

Moominmamma laughs quietly. "That may be true, but you are one of his friends too, dear."

The Rambler suddenly falls back down into a sitting position on the smooth-topped, grey rock, her hands limp in her lap and a few strands of light-brown hair having worked their way out of her hidden braided bun to frame her face, her green eyes sad as they stare at the ground.

"You really think they want to be my friends? You really think they aren't just waiting to hurt someone as awful as me?"

"By the Booble, dear, you're not awful in the least," Moominmamma protests firmly but softly. "I promise you you're not."

The Rambler sits there silently for a long moment, as tears begin to slide down her face. Moominmamma watches her quietly, making no movements.

Finally, the Rambler chokes on something, as if she's trying to get something out from deep within her chest, buried next to her heart.

She's trying to get the worst thing of all out. And it's getting caught along the way.

Moominmamma realizes this. Her instinct is to go rub the girl's back to help coax the foreign object out of her airways, but she knows in this case, that wouldn't help.

Finally, the Rambler gets out with a sob, first, "I've never had a mamma, or a pappa; not really." And with another sob, out comes some more of it. "And I've never had anybody tell me they'd love me no matter what, before."

Moominmamma can't help herself anymore as tears come to her own eyes. She gets up and hurriedly sits down next to the girl, who, while full-grown, seems so small, so vulnerable in this moment. Wrapping her firm, big arms around her, she hugs her close. "Oh, dear Rambler... Oh, dear..."

The Rambler continues to cry, before getting out the last of the horrible buried thoughts and words that have been hurting her for so long. "And I've never, ever had a home before."

Moominmamma lets the girl finish crying. By this point, Moomin and the others (Sniff, Pikkupoika, and Snorkmaiden, at the moment) have noticed. Most of them respectfully keep their distance, but Pikkupoika runs over as fast as his legs will carry them, falling on his face once and getting grass stains all over himself when his legs get tangled up in his smock.

"Rambler! Rambler! Are you alright? Why are you crying? What's wrong?" He shoves his way between Moominmamma and the girl, wriggling his way into the midst of Moominmamma's arms. "Please, sissy, what's the matter? Has Moominmamma made you cry?"

The Rambler's sobs have finally ceased, but a moment later, they're replaced by a new sound. A tiny giggle comes out of the Rambler's throat, followed by a bigger one, followed by one of her rare, real laughs. She wraps her arms around Pikkupoika—and, by extension, around Moominmamma. "Oh, Pikkupoika... I love you, dear brother. I do hope you know that."

"Of course I do," Pikkupoika answers, his expression still quite concerned. "You tell me so every night. I love you too, dear sister. I do hope you know that."

“Oh, I do, I do,” the Rambler half-cries, half laughs. “I do know it, and I will forever after.”

Pikkupoika is eventually convinced that the Rambler is alright, but he is shocked all over again when Moominmamma takes the girl by the hand and leads her up the hill to Moominhouse. Pikkupoika grabs the Rambler's other hand. "Where are we going?"

The Rambler isn't sure how to answer, so she looks to Moominmamma, who tells Pikkupoika gently, "After a good cry, some biscuits and tea are just what Grandma always recommended. I haven't found cause to doubt that, yet."

At tea, the Rambler is still rather quiet, but she tells a couple of her stories, and even smiles and laughs at the words and antics of the others. And after that, she is a regular at Moominhouse. Like Snufkin, she often doesn't talk much, and even when she does speak, she often doesn't say much, but the others can tell now that it's because she's content in the silence, like Snufkin, not because some lodged-up words and thoughts are blocking her throat.

Sometimes the Rambler will tell Moominmamma the dreadful stories of the things she has encountered in the past, sometimes resolutely, sometimes with tears and trembling. Just like Snufkin, Moominmamma is saddened to remember that there can be so much evil in the world, and a few people are added to her list of people to whom she wishes to give a piece of her mind one day, but she never begrudges the Rambler for her trust and need to be able to get the dreadful things out.

Sometimes the Rambler will give Moominpappa advice about how to rephrase things in his memoirs, or help him work through his bouts of writer's block. At first, he's hesitant to accept the help, but soon becomes quite glad of it and finds her an interesting fellow writer with whom to chat.

And, after a little bit of friendly begging on his part, she even agrees to be the official illustrator for his memoirs.

The Rambler plays with the group of children on occasion, though like Snufkin, you can often find the group without her, as well. And you can still often find her sitting near-ish Snufkin while he plays his harmonica or fishes and she writes or draws—while it is a joy to have the friends who draw us out and teach us to laugh and take up space, it is equally a joy to have those friends with whom we can simply be still and small.

Of course, like all lovely things, the summer eventually comes to an end. About a month before Snufkin would normally leave for the winter, the Rambler and Pikkupoika's tent is packed up into a knapsack along with their few other belongings.

Moomin stands and watches sadly, his hands crossed over his white, furry tummy. "Must you really go? Just like Snufkin... Why do you have to leave?"

"Sissy promised we'll go to the big city," Pikkupoika tells Moomin excitedly as he helps his older sister clean up their campsite and pack their things. "Or maybe across the ocean, even."

"Somewhere warm," the Rambler laughs, a beautiful sound that is, thankfully, much more common now.

"But still," Moomin complains sadly. "I'll miss you. And at least with Snufkin, I sleep all through the winter, but with this... When will you even be back?"

"Dunno," Pikkupoika shrugs with a grin, "but I'll bring you a souvenir. Promise!"

The Rambler, though, is silent for a long moment, looking Moomin in the eye. She finally gets a small smile on her face. "When all the leaves have burst into green, and the hills are covered with flowers, and summer is just waking up on the edge of the hills... We will come home, Moomin. I promise."

She is surprised the instant after by Moomin giving her a huge hug. "Oh, I knew it, I knew it! I knew Moominvalley would become your home! I knew it was going to happen!" he cheers, hugging the wispy girl so tightly that he's nearly picking her up off the ground despite the fact she's taller than him.

She laughs, patting his large nose until he puts her down. "Moominvalley isn't home, Moomin. But you're close."

Moomin grows very confused indeed. "But you just said—"

She has kneeled back down on the ground again, and smiles calmly down at the clothes she is folding and packing away. "Moominvalley isn't home for Pikkupoika and I. But you are, and Moominmamma is, and Moominpappa, and Sniff, and Snufkin, and Little My, and Too-Ticky, and everybody else. You're home, Moomin."

Pikkupoika, who was running along the riverbank for a moment, stops behind his sister, crossing his arms and resting them on her head, placing his small, freckled face atop his folded arms. "Yeah. Because for some ramblers, home isn't a place. It's found inside the hearts of people."

"I think I understand," Moomin murmurs quietly, still sad to see them go, but so glad to know they'll be back.

The next day, followed by the sound of two laughing voices this time—both the Rambler and Pikkupoika's—the two siblings leave Moominvalley for places unknown.

Snufkin looks after them with a bit of a knowing smile from the veranda, completely understanding the mixed joy and sadness of moving on for a time.

Moominmamma watches the two go (whom she now completely considers among the number of her already-sizable, always-growing brood), and murmurs to Snufkin quietly, "Thank you, Snufkin."

"Whatever for?" he asks in amusement, glancing over at Moominmamma and then off at the river. "I've not done anything."

"For helping me to teach the cat to cuddle, and purr, and be very glad to see people again, of course," Moominmamma says with a laugh.

Snufkin turns his knowing smile upon her and shakes his head. "I'm sure I haven't the slightest what you're talking about," he says in his rather wry fashion, and climbs down from the veranda, the small twinkle in his eye giving him away, as far as Moominmamma is concerned. "If you see Moomin, let him know I'll be down at the beach, seafishing."

"I will," Moominmamma laughs, shaking her head at the Mumrik-Mymble boy.

Autumn in Moominvalley is a always very quiet, very calm sort of affair—even quieter presently because of the absence of the Rambler's stories and Pikkupoika's giggles and guffaws.

But every year, the autumn is filled with a sense of hope and promises. Because after autumn comes the cold, sleepy winter, true... But after the winter comes the spring. And spring brings with it friends, hope, and second chances.

That's the end of this story, I suppose, but Moominvalley is never, ever short on stories.

Maybe there'll be another worth telling very soon.

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mirai-eats · 5 years

Text

4/6/19:: Garden

An AU I made on Twitter not to long ago, except they’re not human like I drew them lol. heavily implies Snufkin/Moomin, 1.386 words, for Mune

The Moomins owned a house so large it could fit a whole village comfortably within its walls, the garden so vast even Moominmamma herself didn’t know the exact square footage of the property. Moominpappa had gotten substantial money from his writings, especially the memoirs. He earned money by the boatloads from people clamoring for more of his work, more of his worded art and delicate imagery that pulled the heartstrings in just the right tune. Moominmamma was proud of her husband, and even more proud of the lovely estate they ran. The house was lovely, a bit messy despite the servants they paid to help keep the place tidy, it was always a little askew, a little dusty, and very much homely.

The estate was so grand, people were constantly coming in and out of the doors- for a good meal, a conversation, a little company, or just a place to stay a bit. Everyone knew the Moomins had plenty of room to share and were more than willing to let someone stay as long as they pleased. If they had harbored a criminal or two, well, Moominmamma wasn’t a snitch now was she?

Of all the guests who have passed in and out of their entryway the one who’s stayed the longest and kept coming back was Snufkin. A vagabond who pitched his tent up for the spring and summer then left in the fall to travel south. He refused to stay on their property without earning his keep, and thus Moominmamma and Moominpappa let him tend to the garden for the sunshine seasons and in the fall, he took care to prepare the garden for the snow before disappearing for a few months. He was the only one who ever tended to the garden, besides Moominmamma, and somehow managed to take care of every inch of space in his own wild way.

That is to say, he would keep the plants alive and thriving and let them grow as naturally as they wanted to. Sometimes Moominmamma would have to beg him to please prune the wild sweet peas from growing over the path. Despite that, he was a hard worker who kept the garden thriving as wildly as it pleased.

Wisteria dripped from the hanging arches that lined the cobblestoned path in a drapery of purple, the sweet-smelling purple drip drops of flowers fell into one’s fur in the height of spring. Roses took every color possible wherever it so pleased, the most stunning was the large, pale pink ones Snufkin had planted near Moominpappa’s office which bloomed right outside his window as his own little show. Honeysuckle and star jasmine crept up the side of the house and low fences low as they were nothing more than a space to give flowers to grow. They had gates and archways all over the property perimeter for anyone to stroll in and admire the garden or have a cup of tea with the Moomins. Hollyhocks took to the sky, larkspur, lobelias, bachelor’s buttons, tulips, and so many nameless flowers of every shape, size, and color bloomed their delicate fragrance and filled the manor with its tender touch when the windows were thrown wide open. A weeping willow bent over a pond, where a gazebo sat on the other side for afternoon tea when the days were just right, pansies, impatiens, gerbera daisies, and amaryllis cupped the white gazebo. Trees grew tall and small, blooming the smallest flowers to the largest, sweetest fruit and sometimes nothing but its seeds to blow away in the sweet breeze.

In the summer, the flowers didn’t stop, they simply changed to new flowers that enjoyed the warmer climate. Sunflowers chased the sun every day, lilies fo the Nile’s hands bloomed in bursts of long leaves and sturdy stocks. Cosmos, golden poppies, zinnias, petunias, and marigolds sprouted as they pleased, the black-eyed Susans gave the windows a warmer glow when the afternoon sun hit them just right. Bushes of lavender and astilbe waved their long stems at anyone who walked by, dahlias took on every color it could choose, it’s sweet, pom-poms growing large under Snufkin’s care and Moominmamma’s love. Of her favorite flowers, besides the roses that grew nearly all year round, the peonies took a close second in her heart with no petal looking like the next and delicate scent reminded Moominmamma of her marriage with Moominpappa, their wedding filled with these flowers in pinks and whites.

During the autumn things still bloomed but struggled to do so under the shuddering reds and golds of the dying trees and the raining needles that buried their petals. Snufkin took charge in turning the soil so the flowers may die in their mulch graves and be reborn again for the next year, dead vines are trimmed back and the remnants of the wisteria are plucked and put back into the earth. Then, once the garden is freshly buried, Snufkin packs up his tent he pitched in a patch of nasturtiums (or where they used to be by that point) and leaves to travel south for the late fall and the rest of winter.

Now, even though the garden is hers, she did not know every nook and cranny, every secret it held under every camellia bud and between each bunch of lilacs. Those secrets were kept by Snufkin and the only person he cared to share them were with her son, Moomintroll. A spry young boy, that one was, with wide blue eyes like bluebell flowers and a smile that put the sunniest day to shame. The two would run off in the morning and return by dinner with leaves in their fur and grass stains on their knees.

She had always wondered what they were up to, but never would she even dream of invading her son’s and his friend’s privacy to sate her curiosity. There is no reason for her to be breathing down their necks, she figured, she would much rather live with the idle wondering.

Suppose her questions were answered when she was wandering down one of the winding paths to a bench she adored, where the roses bloomed so brilliantly it was as if she was in a bath of their fragrance. The paths always changed, as Snufkin shifted the stones around each year to accommodate wherever the flowers decided to grow. There are plenty of dead ends and forks in the road to get anyone turned around, but the Moomins enjoyed the adventure.

With a cup of lemonade in her hand and a book she found interesting in Moominpappa’s library, she passed by the wall of hydrangeas, so tall and wide her ears barely cleared the top. They rose and fell as they seemed fit and was one of Little My’s favorite place to hide as the leaves her so wide and the branches so sturdy she could crawl around like it was her own jungle.

A whisper and a giggle broke through the spring air, not quite as devious sounding as Little My’s scheming laugh. A rustle from beyond the purple hydrangeas sparked Moominmamma’s curiosity to lean over and check between the leaves and fragrant bustles of flowers.

Hidden amongst the bush were Moomintroll and Snufkin, crouching in the mud with their backs to Moominmamma examining something at their feet. Grass and mud stained Moomintroll’s navy shorts, his back was scraped with dirt and there was a twig stuck to one of his suspenders, a stray pink petal sat atop his head. Snufkin next to him was as dirty as always, his trousers already the color of the earth and his shirt was bleached from the sun, the worn gardening gloves tucked away in his back pocket and boots were scrapped with dried mud. His hat which kept the sun and rain off his face was adorned with a crown of flowers from the garden, a gift most likely given by Moomintroll. They spoke quietly together, their shoulders touching.

When they leaned in close, the brim of Snufkin’s hat hiding their faces, Moominmamma pulled away and powerwalked as fast as she could to her spot.

“There was no need to share that secret with me, my garden,” she whispered. “It’s their secret to keep, and they may share their secrets as they please.”

#moomin #moominvalley #snufkin #moominmamma #snufmin #springdove #the moomins #fic #sorry im already getting v behind but here s achunky boy #mune

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