living off the land... or something

[connorj]

marcuskinsella​:

“With someone else. Who do you take me for? Yeah, come over and bring me some”

Connor hung up the phone and headed over to the Drovers, stopping for a cup of coffee for the man as he had promised. He let himself in and headed straight up to his home above the pub. “Here you go, Princess- oh damn you look rougher than I thought you would.”

[connorj]

marcuskinsella​:

“Us. Our special bond. I think. I don’t know. I won a drinking game”. 

“A drinking game with someone or by yourself? Do you need like... a coffee or something?”

[connorj]

marcuskinsella​:

“What I think you’re supporting is not important right now because what I want to know is what you’re supporting when you say you’re supporting me”

“You’ve said supporting so much at this point I don’t know what we’re talking about. How much have you had to drink?”

[connorj]

marcuskinsella​:

Supporting what exactly is the question

“Well, what exactly is it that you think I’m supporting?”

[connorj]

marcuskinsella​:

@connorj​ liked your post

Explain yourself. I thought we had something special

What we have is very special. I don’t have what we have with anyone else. I’m just here supporting you.

[connorj]

littlecassiepierce​:

She couldn’t believe he was actually asking why she waited for a whole hour. What else was she supposed to do? Go home and mope like some idiot old guy that she knew. “Because I was hoping you would turn up?” She stated, brow furrowed because surely that was obvious. “I don’t know, maybe some of us like to give people a chance.” You could be sure that she wouldn’t be doing that again in the future, especially if he refused to come with her now. 

“That sounds like a you problem,” he pointed out with a shrug. He couldn’t manage other expectations and he wouldn’t be held accountable for people expecting more of him when he made it easy for them to think nothing of him. It was clear that she wasn’t going to leave if she didn’t get her way, though, which meant that he was stuck with her. The cold was starting to nip at his skin and that was enough for him to put an end to the current topic. “I’m going to go get dressed,” he started, turning to walk away from her, “Either come in or leave but shut the door regardless.”

[connorj]

Connor was lifting one of the empty crates off of the stall and pushing it into the back of the truck when he heard someone clearing their throat. He paused what he was doing and took a breath before he started to speak. “You come every week and every week you ask for a discount and every week I tell you no. How many more times do I have to tell you?” As he spoke he turned to face the person that had come to the stall, folding his arms across his chest.

[connorj]

Text Message: Whiskey Provider <----> Fruit Fairy

Marcus: Jerking off?

Marcus: Then I'm probably already dead considering

Connor: Where the fuck would he be jerking off?

Connor: This is very true

[connorj]

Text Message: Whiskey Provider <----> Fruit Fairy

Marcus: Me time? That is better not what I think it is

Marcus: You‘re making me breakfast tomorrow then

Connor: What exactly do you think it is?

Connor: It's your death sentence.

[connorj]

Text Message: Whiskey Provider <----> Fruit Fairy

Marcus: I'll be there in an hour. Don't trust the kid enough to close up

Marcus: Are you still stocked up on food?

Connor: I'm surprised he's not having another dose of 'me time'

Connor: I'm a loner, not an idiot. Of course I've got food.

[connorj]

Text Message: Whiskey Provider <----> Fruit Fairy

Marcus: We should change that tonight then

Connor: We absolutely should, so come trek down to the farm

[connorj]

Text Message: Whiskey Provider <----> Fruit Fairy

Marcus: Whenever you tell me it's not sore anymore

Connor: It's not been sore for a while.

[connorj]

Text Message: Whiskey Provider <----> Fruit Fairy

Connor: When are you going to come pour whiskey down my throat again stranger?

[connorj]

Name: Connor Johnston

Age: 36

Time in Aramore: 5 years

Employment Status: Owner of West Aramore Fruit Farm

He was never the best at what he did but he was never the worst either. He was just… average. His grades were average, the size of his friend group was average, his success would ultimately be average. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means but it didn’t offer him a lot in terms of opportunity either. He was a quiet guy which meant he didn’t always excel in interviews which meant he settled for jobs that he didn’t really want but had to do to make a paycheck - it was one of the reasons that he didn’t stay in one place for too long, moving from business to firm to business.

That was how his life became a boring work-sleep-repeat. Going into the office early and spending too many hours at his desk, then going home to eat last night’s Chinese before falling asleep on the couch. Working hard for little reward.

His last job lasted a while. It was in the finance office of a well-known business in the area, one of his first achievements that he was proud of, and he worked himself to the bone every day to the point of exhaustion. He was six years in the job when he received the letter from a long lost relative. He’d never even heard of the woman before the letter that described a fruit farm in a town in Scotland that he’d never heard mentioned anywhere. That was the day his life simultaneously ended and began.

A few months after opening the letter, he had worked his notice period, packed up his life into his car and drove the long hours to Aramore, where he found a home at West Aramore Fruit Farm - a run-down little farmhouse with a run-down little barn to match. He spent his first few weeks in Aramore redecorating, and in some cases rebuilding, the farmhouse. A time in which he learnt that pipes were incredibly delicate and electric shocks hurt but by the end of it he was pretty proud of himself for what he had accomplished. Once the new furniture came and everything was in its proper place it was a home, one of the first homes he had truly had.

With a new home came new issues and even though the housing situation was sorted and the bar was up to standards for storage, the actual farming part of it was something that he hadn’t really put too much thought into. Like a fool, he thought that it would be as easy as growing normal plants - another thing that he wasn’t all that great at really - but he was sorely mistaken.

After many failed attempts at trying to grow the simplest of things, he realised that he was completely out of his depth and that this was the worst idea he’d ever had. Instead of focusing on farming and growing fruit, he spent his days - and nights - in the Drovers Inn, sipping his way through every bottle of whiskey on the shelf until someone took pity on him and lent a helping hand. Marcus became his saving grace, feeding him whiskey and alcohol whilst also showing him the ropes of growing. They worked together for a few months but eventually he managed to figure it out. He’d never put so much effort into something. He listened to the advice from Marcus, took it in his stride and tried to do it exactly as he explained it. There was many a night where he threw in the towel, chugged some liquor and told Marcus he was done and moving back to his old town and going back to finance. Then the next morning he would groan, hold his head in his hands and drag his ass out of bed and back to work.

Five years later and the farm was thriving just like it had when his grandma had been working on it. He visited the Farmer’s Market every Monday and could often be found making various deliveries around town during the week. There was still a lot that he had to learn and with the ongoing cold he was struggling to keep a lot of his crops alive and it meant that people couldn’t visit and pick the fruit themselves which meant that he wasn’t making money from that anymore but he was surviving, just like he had the past five years. 

Interacting with people still wasn’t his strong suit. Most of his time was being taken up by work anyway, he didn’t have time to feel lonely or wish for more friends, he was too dedicated to his job, to the farm, and carrying on the legacy of his long lost family.

[sebastianstaan]

Sebastian Stan as Frank in Endings, Beginnings (2019)