Hello! I love your fics sm💖 I was trying to find this one tumblr ficlet series where max is a girl and she lives in like the prairie in the 1800s and Daniel is like a travelling business man and buys her farm. It's so so so so good, and I have in my head it's yours but I might be completely wrong lol😅 but if it is yours, do you have a tag you used for it, just so I can find it and reread it? Thanks :))
yes that sounds like my maxonia! hopefully that link works. thank you so much i'm so glad you like it!
“Going to be a good harvest this year, I reckon,” Alex says, wiping his brow and smiling tired and glad.
He’s leaning against the side of the plow; beyond him are the green fields and the sun. It makes him glow, his edges blurred and bright.
George takes a long drink from the pitcher of water and then hands it to Alex, squinting; looking away.
In the three years since they took up homesteading together, the harvests have been meager, just enough to keep them going—nothing like what they talked about, saving enough to marry their beaus from the town and settle with families. They’ve had to keep on as bachelors. Alex’s narrow bed just an arms-length from George’s in the little house. His grin each morning as they start a new day.
“Could be,” George says, and tries to smile back at him. Then he puts his hands to the plow and sets again to work.
Pierre hadn’t known how it could be, with Charles, only that he wanted it. He’d kissed a girl or two after dances, felt his hands around their slim waists and thought about what came next; he was a farmer after all, and men talked besides.
They didn’t talk about this, though: his two fingers slick with grease tucked up inside Charles, the tender center of him. The sweet broken sound of his name in Charles’s mouth. How after, sometimes, he trembles all over like a new calf finding itself out in the impossible world.
for the love of god please stop making me cry over f1 drivers in an alternate universe where they live on farms I just cried over charles fictional third cousin and its 1pm on a Monday while I am at work
imagine when charles's once-sickly third cousin (now ruddy and robust bc of all the cream) tries to set charles up with the new lady teacher at the school!!!! a comedy of errors.
charles is so instinctively nice and polite and obviously dances w the teacher at the church social bc she's all alone and when the third cousin is like "charles everyone has to bring the teacher lunch once a week and my day is today so can you come by the school w some lunch today" and charles shows up with LUNCH for her and she blushes!! etc.
and pierre's like charles that poor woman you are leading her on and charles is like no, i'm not, i'm just being nice and besides she takes such an interest in third cousin and then pierre has to take third cousin aside and say that it's not fair to lead a woman on like that and third cousin is like ??? but they should get married she's so nice. and pierre's like but then i would have to leave you know. and third cousin didn't think about that. he's like oh :(
and he's so worried now bc what if they DO fall in love and he ruined everything. can't eat his dinner that night. charles feels bad bc it's the one night a month he insisted on cooking and of course he burned the roast chicken. pierre has to reassure charles that the chicken is wonderful (it's not) and then he has to take third cousin aside and say i don't think you need to worry about charles and the schoolteacher i think he is very happy here with us. and as he says it pierre realizes he believes it :). then he has to go kiss charles in the kitchen and muffle the rest of his apologies about the food.
AND charles and pierre take in a woebegone and sickly distant relative of charles's from the city somewhere and he is miserable and has been shuffled around from house to house after his parents died (in a mill accident) and finally ends up with weird third cousin charles a confirmed bachelor and his roommate pierre on some FARM and they are so unexpected and funny and tell him he can choose any bedroom he likes and have cream with every meal and show him how to ride a horse and let him get a little kitten when the barn cat has a litter and he was only supposed to stay for three months and at the end of the three months he is miserable and mean to them and says i didn't want to stay here forever anyway i hate you both!!! and they're like well that's too bad because we were going to ask if you did want to stay here forever. and he bursts into sobs because he does. and then charles cries too and pierre gets them both some hot chocolate and wipes his own eyes furiously in the kitchen.
I'm in missing My Maxonia hours. How's everyone doing? How's Max and Daniel's brood coming along? Is Daniel now a bit of a birthing guru when it comes to Max?
thank you for this important ask!! i feel like what happens is that max and daniel have like 5 boys in a row, and after that first time everything tends to be pretty straightforward and predictable. daniel expands the little house so there's two bedrooms, one for the growing crop of boys and one for them, with wide plank floors of yellow wood and two real glass windows and their old carved bed with a bright quilt on it that max's sister sent to them for a wedding present.
max is always pregnant or nursing a baby with another one clinging to her muddy skirts and toddling after her with a thumb in its mouth and big round wide eyes. there's so much to do on the farm, always, so she barely slows down; after the first one or two it just becomes part of the routine and she'll tie a baby up in a sling and go out to see how things are getting on in the fields and unbutton her dress to nurse him right there, pulling her skirts over his head for some privacy.
daniel's obviously like constantly low-level insane about it; he has his beautiful farm and his beautiful kids and his tough and funny and spirited wife who is constantly ripening with another baby... he's so in love it hurts. he was scared the second time max had a baby because the first time was so terrifying in his memory, but the second birth was so straightforward and max was so happy and then it just kept happening and now daniel can mostly put his fears to the side and just enjoy watching max get rounder and knowing soon there'll be another tow-headed baby toddling along after his brothers.
so it's the end of summer, hot days just before the harvest starts, and max is heavy with their sixth child; the first one is old enough that he's a real help around the farm now. as usual max refuses to slow down or rest even as her pregnancy is getting into its latest stages, and all daniel can do is watch as she puts her hands on her hips to survey how things are going out in the fields, sweating, her bonnet hanging down her neck as usual.
and when she puts a hand on her lower back and then rubs her stomach, frowning a little, he's like max? is it time? and she kind of nods, and he's like okay i'll go for the midwife. but this time max is like i don't--like stops and gasps a little and is like, i don't think there's time, don't go. which she has never said to daniel before and it suddenly terrifies him. so he's like okay, okay, and tells the oldest boy to ride for pierre and charles and have them send for the midwife and then come straight back to watch the younger children; and meanwhile he gets max back to the house somehow, and to their nice bright sunny bedroom.
and after the first time daniel always insisted on staying with max during her labor as long as he could, but the midwife would always kick him out at the very end. this time, though, he's there and the midwife's not there yet at all, and usually it's hours but max is gripping his wrist fit to break it and she's saying daniel this baby isn't waiting. and daniel tries to say soothing things but max is shaking her head stubbornly when she's not crying out in pain, and finally she's like do you trust me or not? gasping around the words. and daniel does. with anything. so max is like stop being an idiot and believe me when i say this baby is coming now. you better do something.
and daniel just--there's no other choice, he has to put aside all his terror and try to be there for max and get clean sheets from the trunk at the foot of the bed and then max is crying out one last time and the baby is there, and daniel's catching it and crying and hauling it up to max's chest and it's--it's a girl. she. their first daughter. and there's a moment when she's too still, too quiet, but then max rubs at the inside of her mouth and her back and says come on, baby, and the baby is squalling all of a sudden, bright red with it, and daniel is sobbing and max is crying too, laughing and crying.
daniel gets them cleaned up as best he can and just lays beside them in the bed, watching his daughter start to nurse, and the midwife does arrive and makes a joke about how they'll put her out of business soon and then she leaves again, and charles and pierre come to watch the boys and it's just max and daniel and their daughter for a few hours. just laying there in the sun all looking at each other. daniel gathers the pieces of himself together enough to say stands to reason that our girl would be the one who has to do everything her own bullheaded way, and max laughs and pushes at him weakly and then they go back to looking at her perfect tiny features and soft dark cap of hair.
Your most memorable fic scene for me is the little house on the prairie au(I cannot remember the name) where they are turning the hay and max has lost her bonnet somewhere in the hay. It is so well described that I just remember it randomly during the day and I can imagine being there
Also I justed wanted to tell you that I love the way you write max, I don't like him irl but your writing is so good and your characterisation of him in your aus is amazing. You are one of the few writers that has made my chest physically hurt reading some of your fics 💜💜
thank you so much!! that means a lot. i know that chest-hurting feeling well so it's an honor to produce it in anyone else ever.
Hello dearest yekoc! I really miss My Maxonia! How was Max's first pregnancy? Did Daniel go crazy with attempting to do everything for her to Max's great exasperation? Did Lewis and Seb come to help out during the birth?
okay yikes sorry for how sappy this is!
They're out in the hot fields--together, because Max is more stubborn than ever now--when she turns to Daniel. Confusion is written on her round face; she puts her hands on her rounder stomach and then she grabs Daniel's arm, hard.
"I think--" Max says, but Daniel's heart is already pounding.
There's no time to regret that they don't have a hired hand to send for the midwife, even though Daniel does regret it--regrets all of it, as he helps Max back to the house, stopping every few minutes to let her clench at him again, her strong fingers grinding into his bone. Regrets buying the farm, regrets marrying her, regrets the night she turned to him after supper and put her hands on her hips and said, "well, don't you think we've come to know each other well enough by now? Or am I just not to your liking?"
Max is to his liking, every part of her. When her eyes go hot with pain Daniel thinks he would do anything, make any promise, to take it away again. But he can't. All he can do is settle her in their bed and kiss her sweaty brow and then her mouth, for long enough that she finally shoves at him, and then saddle the best horse and ride like hell for Charles and Pierre, one farm over.
It's Charles who opens the door. He takes one look at Daniel and says, "Is she alright?" and, when Daniel doesn't know, she's--the baby is--he calls for Pierre and reaches for the whiskey.
"I can't," Daniel says, as Pierre's pulling his boots on to go for the midwife himself, all the way into town and back, "I've got to get to Max. She's all alone."
"We'll bring it, then," Charles says. "I'll come with you." There's a quietness in his eyes where usually he's all bright quickness. Pierre touches the small of his back once, on his way out the door.
Daniel doesn't wait for Charles to saddle his own horse, but Charles catches up to him soon enough anyhow. They ride together in silence, and then they're there, and Daniel throws his reins to Charles and bursts through the door.
"Took you long enough," Max says, from the bed, and then, "Daniel--" in a different voice.
He goes to her. He doesn't know how much time passes; only that Max buries her face in his shoulder when the pain is the worst. She bites him, and then tries to apologize, and he shushes her and strokes her hair with trembling hand where it's coming loose from her braid.
"Bite as much as you want," he tells her, and she laughs around a sob and says, "You'll need enough arm to hold a baby, soon enough," and Daniel can't speak anymore.
When the midwife comes, Max is groaning, soft and continuous, and there's nothing Daniel can do about it except know that he's the reason it's happening at all.
"All right," the woman says, "You--out," and Daniel doesn't realize she's talking to him until she shakes him by the shoulder.
"Max," he says, and she turns to him, her cheeks dirty with sweat and tears, and he says, "I love you--I love you," and then he has to leave.
Charles is waiting outside the door. He hands Daniel the whiskey, silent, and Daniel takes a long swig, hands it back to Charles before he can let himself drink anymore. Together, they look out over the hills, the green earth and the blue sky.
"Thought this would happen at night, somehow," Daniel says. "It feels wrong, like this."
He feels numb. All the joy of it--of Max first telling him, shy and nervous and then proud; of watching her body grow, feeling a new life kick inside of her, startling out her beautiful laugh--is gone. It was a trick, Daniel thinks. He fell for it.
Charles is looking at him. He takes his own drink from the jug, then lets it hang by his side.
"It's hard, to hope," Charles says. "But it's stupid to waste it while you still can."
Daniel looks at him, surprised. Max always rolls her eyes at Charles, calls him flighty and unserious.
"Anyway," Charles says, putting the jug down. He shoves his hands into his pockets. He's wearing a red scarf, too nice for his workaday farm clothes. "She'd also hate you if you tried to tell her what was good for her."
"Can't argue there," Daniel says, even though thinking it makes fondness rise like a hard hot lump in his throat. He tries to breathe around it.
Charles is quiet, next to him. Pierre comes out of the stables and clasps Daniel's shoulder, then stands close to Charles. They talk about the harvest, what folks think the price of wheat will be this year. Daniel hears himself talk, automatic. He watches the horizon and tries not to hear the noises coming from the house. The sun starts to sink; colors paint the land that Max loves so much.
It's getting too late, he thinks--can't help thinking. It's dark now, nearly. He takes the whiskey jug and sits with it against the trunk of the big spreading oak. The burn of it hurts. He closes his eyes.
Someone's shaking his shoulder. When he looks up and sees the midwife, he thinks for a crazy second about hiding from her, running far away, taking a horse and galloping until it collapses under him. Never needing to know.
But she's smiling at him.
"Well?" she says. "What are you waiting for?" and he realizes he's missed what came before it.
He drops the jug, dimly hears it shatter against a tree root. There's only the door, and then the bed beyond it--and there's Max, lit up by candlelight now, exhausted and pale and looking for him.
"I'm never letting that woman kick you out again," Max says, sleepily, "I don't care what she says," and it's only once Daniel's kissing her forehead that he knows he's crying; because when he pulls away her skin is shining wet.
"Don't drip all over him," Max says, looking down at the bundle she's holding, and Daniel sees him--red-faced, a wrinkled fist scrunched up by his cheek.
"Spoiling for a fight already," he says, awed, and traces the fist with one finger. Four fingers and a thumb; it's impossibly perfect.
"And people will say he gets it from me, but I'm not the one who broke my knuckles against the oak tree when the corn crop failed," Max says, and puts her head on Daniel's shoulder.
Daniel kisses her hair, and breathes in the warm living smell of her, and then pulls away to look again at his son; his eyes and nose and his light whorls of hair. Max is sleeping now, her mouth falling open a little. There's too much to look at; too much to have. Everything is bounty.
"Welcome," Daniel whispers, and smiles as the baby starts his wonderful squall.
