(from the vault collection part 1/?)
written in April 2023
basically me realizing I have thousands upon thousands of words of fanfic written that I have never posted and never intended on posting, so I think I'm gonna start posting some of them because why not!
One by one, Grian plucks the thin cactus spines from his fingers and palms. He loses count on spike twelve, but still lines them up on his knee in neat little rows. It’s all he can do to keep himself from going mad in this desert heat and Scar’s company (a dangerous combination). After hours of growing, harvesting, and replanting cacti, the two of them only have half of a wall to show for it.
At this point, Grian doesn’t even remember whose idea this was. Or whether or not the wall was meant to keep others out or trap themselves in. If the small, bleeding punctures in Grian’s hands are anything to go by, it seems to be the latter.
He winces as he pulls the last spike free and places it in the final row. He counts them again. Nineteen.
Scar slumps in the sand beside him, sweat dripping down his chin. He holds his palms out in front of him, cringing as if the splinters between his fingers are more of an annoyance than a pain. “Why are cacti so sharp?” he wonders aloud.
Grian tilts his head back and closes his eyes when he says, “Probably because they don’t want to be messed with. You know, like, whatever we’re doing to them now.”
“Kinda like you?” Scar asks, shaking some of the spines out of his hand.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grian opens his eyes again only to narrow them at Scar.
“You’re all… prickly,” Scar says, and he has the audacity to laugh. Grian can’t help but think he’s remarkably cruel in a way no one gives him credit for.
Something in Grian’s face must give him away, because Scar takes one look at him and adds, “Not that it’s a bad thing, G.”
Grian’s gaze returns to his hands. Bleeding and scabbed, pricked to hell by the very thing meant to be protecting them and their fragile home in the dunes. Then, he looks to Scar’s. Just as battered, bleeding between the fingers.
“How can it not be a bad thing?”
Part of him immediately regrets asking— he isn’t interested in whatever assessment Scar has to offer. After all, this is the man who decided monopolizing sand and making Grian his number two were good ideas.
Wait, no. That was technically Grian who decided on the latter. Less of a decision and more of an obligation, but it was his actions that landed him here all the same. Was he the one who thought to make the cactus wall too?
God, he wishes it wasn’t so hot. Maybe then he could think.
He wipes the sweat from his head and tries to pretend like he doesn’t notice Scar staring straight at him. There’s nothing to gather from those yellow eyes; and even if there is, Grian can’t bear to go digging for it, whether it be pity, distaste, disinterest or something worse. His hands hurt enough as it is.
“It keeps you safe,” Scar says as a gust of wind cascades across the dunes, chasing away the worst of the heat. He pulls another spine out of his hand and pinches it between his fingers to study it. “That’s the whole point of these guys, right? Keep the plant safe. And now it’ll keep us safe with the wall.”
Grian can’t help but think safe isn’t nearly synonymous with good. Not for him, anyway. But he doesn’t dare say it. Nor can he— there’s something wedged in his throat now.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I ate cactus without realizing?” Scar blurts out, turning to face Grian with a newfound gleam in his eye.
“Uh… no?” Grian tilts his head, perplexed at the sudden shift. “Why… why would you try to do that?”
“I was in a rush, okay?” Scar crosses his arms over his chest and all but pouts. “You know, G, I’m a very busy man, I have lots of places to be. But I’m also very hungry. So I grabbed the first green thing I saw thinking it was melons. I shoved it in my mouth before I could realize and bam! Tongue full of spikey bits.”
It’s a ridiculous story— one only Scar could tell and Grian would believe. And despite himself, Grian finds his frown cracking. A bubble of laughter, somewhere deep and private and reserved for the man next to him, pops out and catches him off guard.
Grian braces his hands against his stomach as he laughs, feeling dizzy with the desert heat and Scar’s sunshine smile. If his head were a little clearer, he’d see through Scar’s little ruse easily. A way to make him laugh, to take the edge off, to pull Grian’s gaze from his bleeding hands.
Because that’s what Scar’s always been best at— making Grian laugh when it’s the last thing he wants to do. It doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t make it okay. But it makes it easier, so Grian can eventually get back on his feet and get back to work.
From the Vault: Intersections interview with Peter
On this week's episode, we're going back in time to 2016 and the first interview I recorded for the Intersections Project — the predecessor to The Human Tapestry Podcast. Peter is a gay, demisexual, man in a closed-loop relation with his wife and boyfriend
This week we’re going back in time to 2016 and the first interview I recorded for the Intersections Project — the predecessor to The Human Tapestry Podcast. Peter is a gay, demisexual, man in a closed-loop relation with his wife and boyfriend. This being the first time I ever did something like this, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it ended up being a great conversation! We covered things…
