Rascal Hartley

@rascalhartley.bsky.social

146 Followers 135 Following

I mostly make people cry dear stupid penpal - out now! 🪐🏳️‍🌈 The Miniscule Magic of Humans - 🔜 @duckprintspress.com 🐏🏳️‍⚧️ IWNSUA: querying!🐾🏳️‍⚧️ WIP: 1K 🧌🏳️‍🌈 unfortunatelyobsessed on AO3, 2019 Hugo award winner (iykyk), bestselling author (apparently?!)

A picture of a page in the book The Edge of A World by JD Rivers, Chapter 10. It says “Brew is a very delicate drink, and a brew cake should be carefully prepared so that the full flavor is developed. Never chop off too many of a chunk from the entire cake, and do not mangle the edges badly. Loose leaves will lose flavor quickly, so take less than you think you will need. When you add the leaves, the water should have boiled but not be boiling hot anymore. Let it sit for the desired strength, but not more than one turn, otherwise the bitterness will be overwhelming.”
A picture of a cute dog's face surrounded by cushions
Unc score 40, youth score 60. Your tier: soft unc. Unc behaviors are leaking through. The youth notice. They just don't say anything.
He does that non-laugh again and says, “Okay. Alright. Um. Were we flirtin’? Earlier? Were you flirtin’ with me?” “Oh god,” I say. “Oh god, am I really that bad at it? You’re not sure? I thought I was being obvious. I thought my entire face said, holy shit, look at this dude, I’m thinking decidedly un-PG thoughts about him.”
Discord chat screenshot. Theoden: lol the kid can call you "father" "mother" or "captain" Crime brulee: hehe [heart smiley] i like it. Kestrel: the three genders Theoden: in my game of lovecraftian horror and creepy occurrences, i have just... led a rat nation to victory against a guinea pig nation on a little island???? The rats have fixed my ship???¿¿¿??? I gave the guinea pig survivors food and they gave me uh [checks game screen] crate of human souls
Directly above this skeet(?) is another that says "life is at least a little beautiful idk" with the attached picture from havinganormalone's Tumblr that says "Fanfiction is insane. You can write porn so good you make friends."
2.18.86 Waiting room cold. Signed some forms, got a shot. Nurse said call about any changes & i went home. Had spaghetti. 2.19.86 Felt bad. Threw up all night. Called, nurse said it was a minor side effect. Should clear up. 2.21.86 Keep throwing up. Can't keep food down but was so hungry I ate the leftover raw beef for spaghetti. 2.22.86 Didn’t throw up. Still hungry. 2.23.86 Head feels terrible. Called again but no answer. Not worth $50. Still hungry. 2.24.86 Head going to explode. Got in a cab & went back to office. Locked. No one there. For sale sign up. Ate more meat. Still hungry. 2.25.86 Tooth fell out. Going necrotic I think. Need to go to hospital. Need to eat. Think my brain is coming out my eyes. Need a new one. Need a new one. Need a new one. Need a new one. Need. Need. Need. Hungry.
A screenshot where autocorrect is trying to change the word unconditional to heat or the hot, sweaty emoji
Text reads: And I wake up to the smell of bacon. Top-tier, for all it’s worth, those few seconds where I haven’t remembered everything, where I wake up from a dream where I was a rabbit in a forest. Only the forest was a liquor store. Whatever.
Memory three, another life Ike: You’re so easy. Have you ever considered being less easy? Art: Have you ever considered being less of an ass? Ike: Yeah, but seemed lame. Like you, and your burgeoning crush. Art: Burgeoning? Who even uses that word? Ike: Me. When I’m describing the crush you have. Art: I am going to burgeon you in the nose if you don't shut up. Ike: Bludgeon. The word you're looking for is bludgeon. And I'd like to see you even vaguely keep up with me when I dodge.
Text reads: He won’t let me sleep in his truck bed, no matter how much I insist I’ll be fine—slept in worse, really. Recently, even. He makes up his guest bedroom, which very obviously used to belong to someone’s grandmother, and tells me breakfast is at five. In the morning, yes, which is not quite a full night’s sleep, especially when sleep won’t find you because thirty porcelain dolls are staring your way all night. The old hound dog finds me after an hour or so and curls up at my feet, and no one ever told me the cure to insomnia was a dog but—damn. It is.
“Huh. I'll be damned.” He crosses his arms and regards me. “You don't strike me as a stick kind of guy.” I cover my laugh with a cough. “Not really a stick kind of guy. But uh, I used to drive Ike's motorcycle.” “You ride motorbikes.” “Ah, yeah?” He throws his hands up. “What am I standin’ here for then? You've got this! Just drive the damn thing!” He tosses me the keys and I don't react fast enough. They hit me in the chest and fall down. We both stare at them silently. Logan heaves out a deep sigh. I kick them up deftly-ish and collapse my cane again, shoving it in the back of my waistband, and mount the ATV. Logan swings a leg over behind me as I start it up.
A picture of me holding Common Bonds 2, an aromantic anthology
A photo of me reading at the beach. The book is open. The ocean is in focus but the book is not.
An extremely dark picture of the night ocean skyline and beach, with me (Rascal Hartley) leaning so far back to look at the sky that it looks uncomfortable
A quarter machine for sex accessories labeled Pandora's Box
A Tumblr screenshot of the ice miser from the claymation Christmas special (year without a Santa, maybe?) with the caption "Im Mister trans gender. Im mister cis. Im mister cash spender. Im mister take a piss"
Poster for a novel titled "when I find you". The background is a staticky wolf, and the title is written large across in marker style letters. It has three faux awards reading "small town horror" "trans disabled mc" and "something evil is here". The catch line is "Find your brother. Lose your mind." At the bottom it reads: a novel by Rascal Hartley
“Mornin’,” Logan calls out, waving a spatula. “Sleep well?” “Mostly,” I admit, sitting at the bar stiffly. “Benji snuck in, didn’t he? He knows better than to bother guests.” He gives the hound dog a fake glare, and it couldn’t care less. “It’s fine,” I promise, and Logan hands me coffee without me even asking. Fuck. He must mistake something in my face, because he arches one eyebrow over a— brown, brown eye— and smiles. “Not poisoned. Really would’ve just hit you with my car.” “Guy can never be too careful, what with all the axe murderers and coffee poisoners out there.” I take a sip and it’s gross, bitter and black and hot, but I drink it, anyway. Would be weird not to. “Now me, I could’ve been an axe murderer. No gas to run you over with.”
And my best friend has a body And isn’t that awful? It tastes like water on their lips Which only makes sense if you know Ari. And my best friend has a body And isn’t that terrible? And sometimes we joke that we'll take her bones out And send them through the dishwasher Which only makes sense if you know Holly. And my best friend has a body And isn’t that unfair? And it pries her awake at night to dream up new universes Which only makes sense if you know Jess. And I have a body-- And I do not talk about this body. But the terrible aching unfamiliar bodies take their medicine in the morning And the evening And the night And they are still terrible and aching and unfamiliar And the medicine is bitter and sweet and drunk And it lets the bodies hold each other. And our bodies are maybe not for aching after all And we have to give thanks to the unholy prescription bottles of terror Because they let us do things Like know Holly & Jess & Ari. - Rascal Hartley
“You need some help down there?” someone calls out, and I open my door to peer into bright headlights. “Uh, hi?” I try. “Ran out of gas.” There’s a laugh. “What were you doin’ this far out on a low tank of gas?” “In my defense, my fuel gauge doesn't work.”
Screenshot that reads: I take my bag from my trunk and trudge up the stairs at my own pace, because, I mean, fuck stairs, right? We’ve got rockets, jet planes, fireworks, escalators, elevators, even lawn chairs with turbo engines strapped to them, but no simple way to go directly up ten feet without spending a fortune. Turbo engine. Lawn chair. It’s not goddamn fair. The lock is iffy and the bed is worse, but it’s a place that, again, isn’t in the rain. And it’s midnight, and I’ve been jammed in the same position damn near all day. My ankles are going to climb out of their sockets and murder me if I take another step, so I don’t. I sit with my back against the door and just breathe.
Picture of two books: The Raw Shark Texts by Steven Hall and The Flesh of the Sea by Lor Gislason and Shelley Lavigne
Screenshot of ao3 stat page. Fic is "you're not wrong" for Our Flag Means Death with 2,763 kudos
Text of part of a paragraph, reads: bearings. If in constant use, the machine should be oiled two or three times a week. [In bold] Neglect to do this will shorten the life of your machine and cause you trouble and annoyance.
An issue of "lipu tenpo", a toki pona publication. It is the nanpa len issue.
The word is sultry. This author is ace
In the style of a terrible clickbait ad. There's a very stereotypically-dressed vampire on the left (pale, black hair, cape with red lining) holding a copy of Dear Stupid Penpal. On the right it says "Romance? In MY queer horror book?" Beneath that: It's more likely than you think. As a fake yellow button with red words: PREORDER NOW!
In the middle of this is the cover of Dear Stupid Penpal by Rascal Hartley, which is mostly dark deep space except the silhouette of a man at an instrument panel that's lit in rainbow hues that trail into space. Surrounding it, in terrible order and form, are the following: Insipid flirting People keep saying it's good (my discord DMs are filled with keysmashing) Not gay as in happy, queer as in i love you An author that definitely knows how to market Queer [this is in all rainbow] Oh also it's in space BTW Aroace characters (this is very important to me Written entirely in letters An amount of queer that would make your grandma clutch her pearls (they're my pearls now gimme) Comedy :) Tragedy :( Just kidding (or am I) If I put queer on here one more time I get a bingo Unknown whispers Taco Bell I had to look up multiple words while writing this Horror romance Homance, if you will Rorror? HORROMANCE (it was right there!) End ID
Img ID: a collage. At the top are fancasts for Aku (Ekin Koç) and Finch (Dev Patel). Between them is an image of an astronaut. In the middle is a galaxy that looks like an iris, and superimposed over that is a painting of two men grasping one another (the painting is The Fall by Alan Stephens Foster). Beneath, at the bottom, is an oil painting of a swirling galaxy. Over this all are prose lines: I won't be in the history books. That's for you. But I loved you first. As long as they get that right, I don't care what they say. End img id.
A picture of the cover of the book Artifice & Access, a teal cover depicting heroes in various positions, including one with a prosthetic leg and one in a wheelchair.
Screenshot of anthology Artifice & Access on Amazon, with the "top new release" badge circled