Roddacember 2024 ❤

Update

Notes

Prompts in text:

reblog with a book that you have read this year and would like to suggest 📚📖📗📑📔🍵☕

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe]

behind every hot girl is a tbr of 100+ books

Fixing...

You ruminate over Deema’s comment about needing to learn while turning the block of wood over in your hands. Its rough surface snags at your fingertips. Hopefully you won’t end up with too many splinters.

The only way out is through, you tell yourself, and pick up a small knife and take a seat by the rickety old table in the backyard.

As you whittle away at the wood, unskilled hands trying to not take too much off (going fine) or scratch your fingertips (less than find) you wonder how you would practice your fanning skills without  bothering everyone in town.

The open hills south of the cottage and outside the town should be sufficient. The long grass will show you how the wind moves and there are plenty of trees with branches that will bend with the strength of the wind.

When the wood is small enough to wedge into the gap in the table you hammer it in with the butt of the knife (a bad idea, as it turns out). It’s not pretty but the table doesn’t shake when you nudge it and you hope Deema won’t be looking under the tabletop any time soon. You make a note to let her know tomorrow.

With the sun setting and rain falling softly, sheltered under the eaves, you massage and suck your scratched up fingertips.

You tuck yourself into bed and sit Reginald on his special stone. He sits contently.

–

Ideas for the best way to introduce Deema to the fixed table exit your mind about as quickly as they appear. After dismissing the thought of bringing it inside you decide to just serve breakfast on it and pile some heat stones around the porch so Deema doesn’t become too cranky.

She is cranky, at first, at the idea of leaving the warm inside for breakfast outside on ‘that old waste of wood.’ But the intensity of her scowl decreases when she presses her fingertip down on the table’s edge and it arely wobbles.

Once she’s satisfied the table won’t collapse under the weight of the tray you carry she grunts her approval. You set the tray down, knowing it’s no different to a round of applause from anyone else.

Reginald sits on the table too. You briefly wonder what he eats before you remember he’s a stuffed toy.

–

You go off to practice on the hills with a pocketful of fans, a notebook, and a spring in your step while Deema reads at her table outside. When you turn back you see Isla come up the path to the cottage. You raise your hand but they don’t see you.

The hills are thankfully absent of people so you’re able to practice as freely as you wish. By late afternoon pages of your notebook are crammed with notes and diagrams pertaining to your fanning speed and the angle you held the fans. You switched between dominant and non dominant hands to give your wrists a break but call it quits when they still ache after a long break.

You stop at the road that leads to town.

I'm setting this one to one week because. Well. It's been a while and I need some time to get back in the groove of things!

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Be a hero

Break the tie

Crazy how many people want characters in fiction to speak and act like they’ve had 20 hours of intensive therapy. Could NOT be me I want these bitches fucked up insane

save me characters doing fucked up things out of self-preservation…..characters doing fucked up things out of self-preservation save me………..

save me character who made an undeniably terrible decision but man i dont know what i would have done either………