#Drawing grass and campfires are my two favorite things

[bokettochild]

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones

Angst! My Beloved!

Not a lot of whump here, but I put Wild through the wringer!!! Lots of BotW2 ideas and concepts here, but nothing really cannon.

Also, disclaimer: I think Flora is a wonderful person, a bit harsh and sometimes unkind, but I feel for her a lot. The prompt submitted to me however asked for her as an ass, so that's what's here, for angst reasons. THIS IS NOT HOW I PLAN ON WRITING HER NORMALLY!!!

When Wild left the Chain behind in the woods, it was with a soft smile and a hesitant wave of his right hand. It was with a gentle ‘See y’all later’ that made Warriors shake his head with a sigh while Twilight offered a wobbly grin.

He would join them again, he knew that. After all, Hylia wouldn’t have chosen him to go with them in the first place if he was only supposed to leave before they’d even really started to know what it was that they were meant to be doing.

He’d see them again, and he’d fall back into a routine with all of them, sparring with Warriors and teaching Hyrule to cook and shield surfing with Wind and learning to carve from Sky. He’d go back to sewing with Legend, to exploring with Hyrule, to learning the Ocarina with Time and teasing Twilight about his terrible singing. He could work with Four on the Sheikah Slate and experimenting with different plants he’d gathered. He would see them again, and he’d go back to being busy and smiling nearly every day.

For the time being however, he had to square his shoulders and harden his jaw as he stepped through the swirl of black that had repulsed all the others every time they tried to enter. He had to tame his mind and wild spirit and come to stand before the Princess of Hyrule in all of her stern glory and receive the scolding he was due for wandering off without permission.

He never had time to question what she meant by being gone for ‘two whole weeks’ before she was marching off towards the labs and explaining that there was a new task for them to complete.

Such a task was one that left in his mind no time for thoughts of his brothers save on the lonely nights in the sky when the islands above the clouds were silent save for the birds about him that reminded him of Sky, or when he ran across the forests and was reminded of the wolf that once ran at his side. And, alright, the tiny people in the grass and the fountains reminded him of Four and Hyrule. When the wind sang strong in his ears as he dove towards the earth from the highest places in the sky, he couldn’t help but envision a small hero whose laughter danced like the sea and who’s fingers mastered the currents of wind and sea both.

It was a lonely quest, just like his last before it, but somehow it was more painfully so, now that he knew what it was to have brothers at his side to catch a monster’s blade when he was too slow or to help him patch himself up afterwards. It was quiet when the Princess and he sat around the fires as night, she studying him as he sat still and stonelike as she worked.

The hand that had waved goodbye to his brothers now flickered green and ethereal in the night shades, iron bands clinging to the wisping appendage and acting as a bond to hold its form together. It was nothing like what he’d known or studied in the Sheikah technology, or even what he’d seen from the many worlds he’d traveled with the other, and it earned many a stare and twist of the lips from those he met and traded with during his journey.

The arm was only the first of many changes, it’s power seeping through his body and altering him before he even knew what was happening. He’d hated it at first, disliking how it changed him, made his eyes glow and his hair touch with the same ethereal shades, red bleeding through at the roots and earning him even more wary looks.

Ganon, in all his terrifying power, had been a surprising comfort during the quest, an aid to discovering his new abilities and training them to bend to his own will. The Princess had been wary of their relationship, but had accepted it when she saw what he learned to do, and every evening she would require a report of his newfound skills, as well as the occasional demonstration or examination.

It all came to an end both too soon and not soon enough.

Ganon was gone, as if he’d never been there at all, and the Princess was as cold as ever even after their second adventure at each other's sides. And now there was no use for the abilities that had fused to his soul like the arm had to his flesh. He’d asked Purah if there was something that could be done to restore his body to its normal Hylian state, without the glowing limb that earned his only stares and insults from the village people, but the Princess had overheard it and declared that such a thing should not even be attempted.

“You don’t understand, Link. Don’t be foolish! We have here a scientific marvel ready for our investigation and exploration and you want to get rid of it just because it looks odd?”

He’s shuffled his feet slowly, resisting the impulse to rub at his chest where the Hylian part of him ended and the eldritch horror began. “I can’t live like  Hylian anymore.”

“Because you aren’t one!” Her Highness rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Sir Knight, after everything I certainly doubt that Hylian even applies to you anymore! Hylians do not possess the qualities that you now do, and they most certainly do not travel through stone or time or any other such thing at will. Think would you! You’re something else entirely, and I intend to find out what that is!”

Purah had frowned at that, eyes full of sorrow as they met his own with an apologetic sigh. But there was nothing the de-aged scientist could really say against the royal Sovreign of Hyrule, not as a Sheikah sworn to the service of the royal family. The woman/girl had offered him a sympathetic pat on the head later after climbing up to reach high enough to do so, as well as a few dumplings that Paya had sent on her grandmother’s behalf the day before. It was a welcome gesture, but amounted to so little on the grand scale of life. Not when so many others he had once called his friends had so blatantly rejected the mere sight of him.

Bolson and the other carpenters shied away from him with harsh whispers as they spat insults across the distance.

‘Half-blood’.

‘Gerudo Bastard’.

‘Freak’.

‘Demon’.

There were favorite insults spread from stable to stable and up and coming village to up and coming town and slowly all of Hyrule knew of the monster that had once been the hero. Gossip abounded, and he couldn’t even turn to shield his face with his hood without drawing attention to his arm.

It was only the koroks that welcomed him, themselves all too accustomed to the strange and ethereal. Them and the blupees.

Maybe it was the knowledge of how it felt to be shot at for his oddness that allowed him to ease into the graces of the flighty animals. And maybe it was his lonely heart crying for comfort, but when nestled in their midst, it almost reminded him of how it felt to be hugged by the salty veteran, on the rare occasional that the pink-haired hero had let down his guard.

The fairy’s tangled themselves in his hair and the blupees gathered at his feet, koroks dancing around him and flying to his side as if he was some sort of forest god, but the strange rise of his spirits in their presence shattered the instant a traveler caught sight of him.

Arrows and fire, once his favorite of weapons, were turned against him as words in every language of the New Hyrule had burst from the mouths of its people, and like his namesake, he ran before them, darting through the forest and fading in amidst the trees, hiding, incorporeal and translucent within the halls of the forest as those he’d once seen as allies pushed him away.

He’d begged the new Queen for aid, for relief or even just a word to the people that he wasn’t the evil they had come to think he was, but she only waved him aside with a purse of her lips. “You are not meant to be here without first asking.” The Child of Hylia declared, eyes as cold as the Shrine’s waters themself. “And why should I make a declaration on behalf of a man who refuses to even speak to me properly? You come groveling like a worm, yet for years it was I who you ignored. See how it feels, Sir Hero, to be the one left helpless at the hands of the country. Know what it is to be scorned by those who you thought would love you.”

He’d barely made it out of the window before the trainee guards of the newly repaired Hyrule Castle had caught him and Queen Zelda Diana Hyrule had stared after him with eyes colder than Hebra’s tallest peaks.

It was the Father Tree -the Deku Tree as the Queen had called it, but the koroks laughed at him for using the name, so he’d adjusted in kind- who suggested that he hide the changes, and he’d begun to wander Hyrule as much as possible to find the materials he would have needed.

The Queen still required his presence regularly so she could inspect him; her love of science no ways tainted as to stop her from ordering him to appear regularly, as there was now no need or safety in his acting as her guard. The Queen sought her people’s respect, and to employ such a being as himself, not Hylian and not quite mortal, would be to spark fear in the people. Indeed, when he skirted villages, he would wince at word of ‘the queen’s monster’ as gossip was traded. Those who didn’t see him themselves knew him as a beast of feral nature who lived amid the lost woods and destroyed any who came close.

“A specter that glows with the light of the shrines.” They would tell each other over campfires. “It has eyes like a ghost, empty and lost, with no care for humanity or Hylia’s chosen. They say it was once the Hero of this world, but he died ages ago.”

“I heard it’s the body, possessed by a being beyond this realm, a monster escaped from the edges of reality that tried to hide in our midst but corrupted it’s host so that it only scares away others, leaving it roam the earth in a shattered body. If you get too close to it though, it’ll take your instead.”

He’d stayed away from towns after that.

The blupees and koroks had been happy to help him to find what he needed to hide among the Hylians should he wish though, and two in particular guided him; the korok swinging little twigs like they were batons and humming swinging little shanties as it hopped along the path, the blupee snorting softly and nipping at his heels when he wandered too far, unnatural purple eyes staring up at him with something that was fondness and a reprimand all at once, and in their care he’d made his way across the land of Hyrule to find what would be needed to return to his once life.

The fairies and their Great cousins had been welcome help, and in time, he’d been able to walk amid the populace of Hyrule like any other, as long as he kept a long cloak about him and his hair pulled back to hide where the roots would begin showing again in gold and ethereal blue.

Once Hyrule had talked about needing to hide in his world, about the curse that followed him and made the Hylian people afraid. He’d thought it bizarre and ridiculous of the people at the time, but now he understood what it was to live it.

When the portal opened beneath his feet the day that the Queen had reprimanded him for concealing and potentially damaging the strange limb, startling the Skeikah scientists and Queen both, he’d nearly cried tears of relief.

He was going away, somewhere where he wasn’t a science project and where, unless they traveled to his world’s future, no one would know how much he had changed. His copy of the slate had enough hair dye to last him a few months, and he was certain he could make more over time, and as long as he continued wearing the tunics and gloves the fairies had helped him to adjust to hide the glow the others would probably never catch on. Or well, he could extend it anyway.

His brothers greeted him with open arms and teary eyes, and in a strange parallel to his adventure, he found himself thinking of blupees when Legend had curled against him, stiff and cold on the outside, but with fingers that clutched his tunic just a bit too tight to really be reluctant. And Four, Hyrule and Wind’s exuberant hugs and chatter brought to mind tiny forest people and koroks with twigs for batons.

It was good to be home.

It was good to cook for other people again, and they were glad to have him cook for them, even if his fondness for both Gerudo spiced dishes and fae like sweet things had increased exponentially during his newest adventure. It was good to fight at their sides, even if it was strange to once again have to take others into account before he could select a weapon. It was good to sit around a fire and talk with the others too, but that was perhaps the hardest one; it had been ages since he’d had a proper two-way conversation with anything other than a tree or a korok, and neither of those was good at either staying awake or staying focused for very long.

There were some harder things to adjust to though. Fire, for one. Unlike before when he’d have been happy to burn an enemy camp to the ground, now he was wary of using faming weapons or spreading heat further than necessary. The same went for hunting; he couldn’t bring himself to shoot an animal unless it attacked first or they needed the meat it would provide, and even then, he felt a bit bad for doing so. Is this what Twilight had felt like? Is this why the rancher never liked hunting? Because he too knew what it was like to be on the other end of the bow?

But the hardest thing by far to readjust to was his name.

‘Wild’ they had called him again, and after months of ‘the wild one’, ‘wild beast’, ‘monster’ and every other insult, slur or title that had been used on him, it made him flinch ever so slightly at the words. And unlike the other things where his brothers dismissed it as a change caused by his adventure or an increase of maturity, it was something that the others seemed to either not notice or to excuse as situational.

He had adapted though, learned to keep a smile on his face where blankness had once been required in his knightly duties, and the more he wore the mask the easier it was to put on again.

He’d reveled in traveling across time again, in dancing through battles and exploring the world without the Queen reprimanding him in her cold tones to stop wandering off. He’d pushed himself to learn more music in the last adventure, and even if his experience was more with what few instruments Ganon had had time to help him learn, he’d enjoyed sitting down with the others and borrowing one or another instrument to play a tune and sometimes he even got to sing.

He fell to comfortably into his role though, even with the changes, and he hadn’t even noticed when they’d come back to his world. To be fair, it was different in the daytime, and Hyrule had changed so much in the absence of her hero as he hid himself away from the eyes of civilization. Towns and roads had sprung up where there had only been fields before, and the Guardians that had littered the land had all been dug up and hauled to the castle to be either restored or destroyed by the Sheikah, depending on what Queen Zelda decided after she looked at them herself. The world was so different to him, so unlike that which he knew, that he’d failed to keep as alert as he ought to have been when he wandered about an open market with the others, laughing and chattering away with the other younger ones as Time and Legend herded them towards the needed stalls.

It was a traveler that was his downfall, a man who’d seen the Monster Hero and had been among the first to discover the disguise he wore.

No questions were asked when the word spread, and Wild hadn’t caught on to the whispers until a stone had struck his cheek and he was stumbling forwards on the path.

“Wild!” Twilight was at his side in a minute, Time right after him as Legend launched a barrage of insults at the guilty party who’d thrown the thing.

“’m fine.” He was careful to wipe the blood away with his cloak, holding the fabric to the wound to prevent bluish blood seeping down his face and exposing him to his brothers. He wanted to keep them as long as possible and proving himself to be a monster, not even Hylian, would surely have them turning their backs on him.

“Get away from him!” A woman scolded, grabbing ahold of two of the younger heroes while several other shoppers had like ways grabbed Legend and Sky. “Are you dears alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Freaking what?” Legend shrieked. “Who’s the injured party here?”

“I’d avoid that thing, son.” A man huffed through a frankly walrus like mustache, eyes hard as they trailed to where Wild stood, cloak still pressed to his cheek as he attempted to wave off a fussing Twilight and Time. “It’s not natural. Sure, it looks like a normal Hylian, but that’s just an effective ruse.”

Another villager nodded. “It’s one of the Calamity’s puppets, a Gerudo-Bastard set on destroying the kingdom!”

“He’s the freaking hero!” Legend shrieked, barely being held back by a steely eyed Sky. “He saved all your freaking asses and all you can do is insult his flipping guts? Who’s the-”

“Enough.” There were few times that Sky’s voice reached levels worse than Twilight’s growls, but the stern command, regal and firm, froze all present as the man stiffened with a cold nod towards the villagers. “I see we are unwelcome here, and with that being the case it would be wise to spend our rupees elsewhere. Legend,” A tug to the boy’s shoulders. “Let’s join the others and be out of their hair. If they cannot be welcoming and kind to our brother than they will not receive our patronage.” And like a swan gathering it’s cygnets, Sky swept down the street, cape fluttering as he ushered the rest of them out of the town and back to the safety of the wilds. The village stared after them with wide eyes, as if they’d just been judged by a breathing god.

The stiffness in Sky’s shoulders faded as they neared the edge of the forest, and instantly the Chosen Hero been tutting over Wild, gently but firmly prying his hand away from his face with a kind smile that almost set Wild at ease. Almost.

“It’s fine, it’s just a scrape.”

“Still.” Sky crooned softly. “I’d rather we clean it up now and make sure it’s nothing worse than let it sit and get infected later.”

And though he’d tried to fight, his single Hylian hand was no match for the firm grip of the Skyloftian, and within minutes his face was exposed to the shocked faces and flickering eyes of his brothers.

“It’s blue...” Wind breathed as Hyrule darted forwards, hands already glowing softly only for them to stutter to a stop over Wild’s skin.

“It’s... Wild, why is your blood- why is-” The healer’s eyes had flickered golden for a moment, wide as they stared up at him. “What happened to you-”

“What the freak!” Legend had startled, blinking in surprise as he stared. “Your eyes are glowing!”

Shit! The healing properties of the arm had already taken affect and it was making everything act up all weird! He shot a glance down at his arm, one hand raising to tangle in the long hair he couldn’t even see at the moment, praying silently beneath his breath that nothing was showing through. It wasn’t, but that didn’t change how Hyrule had come to fixate on his right arm, or how the healer's fingers hovered over it sparking and eyes twinkling as he whispered softly under his breath.

“Wild.” Time had sighed. “I think this one is going to need an explanation.”

All the breath left his lung in instants.

He’d panicked to say the least and Time had eventually shooed the others away to make camp as the eldest hero had sat at his side, waiting silently for him to regulate his breathing. Touch was too much right now, and any attempts from the others to ease him down or help him level out his breathes had only made him panic more. But when at last his blue eyes blinked back to clarity it was to see Time sitting at his side, a gentle tune wafting from the Ocarina at his lips.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, trying his hardest not to startle Time or otherwise make the situation worse. “I should have said something, I know. I just- missed being Wild and I wanted to come back and be normal and I didn’t want to-”

“It’s alright.” Time’s voice rumbled softly, a single blue eye turning to him with a pained look, even as the man offered him a hint of a smile. “None of us talk about our adventures either.”

“Yes, but you’re people.” He sighed, rubbing the fingers of his glove together. “You’re allowed to choose things.”

There was pain in Time’s voice when their leader answered. “And you’re not?”

“I’m not Hylia anymore.” He whispered. “I don’t count.”

“You count to us.”

“That’s because you don’t know.”

Time shifted, turning to face him fully as the ocarina was set firmly in the grass. “That’s because you’re family and we care. Wild, I don’t care if Demise himself named you the king of the dead, you’re still my kid and Nayru knows I’m not going to let you go without a fight. If that means fighting you, alright, but you’d best better believe that no amount of physical or mental changes will break the bonds we all have with you.”

Something, something damaged and crushed and stitched up and torn open again clenched inside of him, tears pricking at his eyes as he stared up at Time’s royal blue gaze. “W-what?”

“You could be granted godhood, made a monster, I don’t care. You’re ours and you’ll have to deal with that.” Time smiled, warm even with the pain in his eyes as he looked down at him. “So how about you start again, maybe with the facts rather than the insults. Or,” Time softened, brows furrowing lightly. “If you want, we can just sit here and you can choose to talk about this later. We do need to know, so we can help you and keep you safe, but you don’t have to tell us right now. You can take some time to figure out what you want to say if you need.”

And, well, shoot him, but Time’s arms had always been a safe place and there was one thing he’d wanted more than anything since he had come back. Wild threw himself into his grand-mentor's arms with a soft sob, clutching tightly to the other, ignoring the armor and its sharp points and awkward shapes as he tried to hold back all the emotions swirling in his chest.

Time’s arms folding around him broke the floodgates though, and when the man’s hand had stroked through his shortened hair, he’d had to bury his face in Tim’s neck to muffle his sobs.

“There, there,” Time hummed softly, rocking slowly as he held the broken wild hero. “Let it out, little one. I have you, I’ve got you and I’m not letting anyone hurt you.”

[the-slasher-files]

Hello!! It's me again, I loved what you wrote from my last request, and I wanted to try if I could ask for another one. I know it's a holiday, so I understand if it's gonna be a while, or if you'll be unable to do it.

Picture this, s/o is out busy all day, leaving the slashers on their own. Then, while the slashers are in their duties, they spotted something that reminded them of s/o. It can either be clothings, accessories, or even the smell of something their s/o bakes, etc.

I would love to see how Michael and Jason (even the other slashers, for the other readers out there) would contemplate when something like that happens to them. Like a moment thinking about their s/o and recognizing their adoration for their s/o.

(Ask is a little long but I also wanna say I love you writings so much! Happy Holidays!)

oooooh I adore this!! Happy Holidays to you as well! Just to make it more painful I am going to make it so the s/o is gone for ‘longer’ making them yearn more :) Also forewarning there is quiet a bit of gore in this but not super bad, also includes people getting murdered and angsty vibes! hope you enjoy🔪💕

MASTERLIST

SLASHERS BEING REMINDED OF THEIR S/O WHEN THEY’RE GONE

INCLUDES JASON, and MICHAEL

JASON VOORHEES

A creature quietly stirred in the shadows of the trees, moving rapidly but somehow silently. A ghost. A myth. A legend of Camp Crystal Lake. When you were gone and he was on the hunt, the man that bared the name Jason Voorhees, was ruthless. Everything he was with you as a lover was lost and replaced by violence, rage and a malicious intent. Brutally spilling blood in revenge, becoming one with the forest and lake that hid him effortlessly, waiting for the time to strike.

The small group of teenagers were in the rustic wooden cabin glimmering in the night by with the warm glow of the campfire outside, left abandoned for other activities. He could hear the groans, heavy breathes and muffled music from the drunk teens, creaking the old beds in a rhythmic pace. The creature white knuckled the wooden handle of his machete, forcing bones and veins to appear along the damaged skin.

The normally creaky floorboards of the porch did not creak for him, hiding his presence, almost as in appreciation for the man that kept up the camp and fed the woods surrounding. Jason made his way into the wooden structure quickly meeting a sizable man, shirtless, protecting a young female that stood behind him poised to scream but the air never left her lungs for the machete brutally skewered both teens with little effort. A river of scarlet seeped into the old wooden floorboards beneath the killers muddy boots as the blade was pulled out of the slumped corpses. With forceful steps Jason marched into the small bedroom ripping the door open, the hulking frame of the beast lunged toward the naked skinny teen and with the clean whoosh of metal blood sprayed everywhere, the bed, the floor, on Jason and coating the now screaming women beneath the teen. Quickly the creature grabbed her throat, pulling her up and squeezing, watching the life drain from her trembling body, lips turning blue and eyes bulging, she was gone in a simple few minutes.

The night fell silent again until a new muffled song appeared from the bathroom, a familiar song, one the creature had heard many times before. Turning slowly and gingerly pushing the wooden bathroom door open, steam swept through the air and a phone laid on the counter, a woman was in the shower singing alone to the song playing from the device.

The scene was yours but the smell and voice wasn't. It brought the creature to a strange state, one that placed the man in between his two persona's; deadly murderer and gentle lover. Jason stood observing for a moment, remembering all the nights he would come home and find your little naked body in the hot shower pretending as if you were on stage to thousands preforming your favorite songs. So cute, so pure and vulnerable, coating yourself in the beautiful floral scents you always seemed to dawn. Jason would often step into the stream with you usually fully clothed making you laugh-- Your laugh was even so adorable to the large man-- and he would run massive hands where he pleased along your soft skin, making you look so small under him. Perfection was an understatement to Jason, you were his everything and you took him for what he was, loving the man with all of your heart.

Jason missed you and missed you bad; gone for a week seemed like a year to him. Hating when your family pulled you away to the fast and loud city, which you told your lover you hated too but you both knew you would have to see them sometime, making sure you were fine.

A ridiculously out of tone lyric was sung and it ripped threw Jason’s ears, drawing his ire and pulling him into the killer character. This was not you, not your smell, not your voice. Swiping the phone to the floor the creature destroyed it under his boot with ease and forced the giant blood covered machete through the shower curtain and into the unfortunate soul behind it.

MICHAEL MYERS

A scream broke the air of the cool October night. In the traditional white American home a crimson liquid painted the inside, smeared against the walls, sprayed along the flickering tv screen, pouring out of a woman. A man watched her, head tilted as she clawed against the grey carpet with one hand, while the other futility clutched her neck where a stream of blood ran. His anger was bright at the fact it wasn't you beneath him, bleeding out and crawling away helplessly.

The shape of Haddonfield had made home in the shadows tonight, slipping away between the cookie-cutter houses and stalking with warm glow from the windows. A blur of white and navy hid away for the moonlight didn't even want to touch the sick soul, seamlessly blending into the night.

He had watched her from the bushes with a feeling of desire forming in his core, burning fury and sick thoughts incased him. The shape could do things to her that he never could with you, but it wouldn't be the same, he knew. She had your same hair colour. Similar build. The same black hoodie. Baking something that smelled familiar.

You were gone, not at home but in your hometown. Far away from Haddonfield. Only one more night he counted in his head, one night too long. You had done everything to try and convince Michael to take the road trip with you but leaving his town wasn't something he ever wanted, you knew that and accepted it. However, Michael didn't accepted it, rage grew every hour you were gone, knowing he should have just tied you up in the bedroom, threatening to kill you. Fuck, he wanted to see how your blood would run between his fingers and shimmer on his cold metal blade. Something was different about you, and Michael just couldn't place it why he had kept you alive and allowed your touch for so long. It could've been your smell perhaps, it was sweet with a tinge of musk from himself; the copper smell fell flawlessly against your skin and mixed into a dangerous perfume. Maybe it was your nature, treating the man like a human instead of a demon, not ever wanting to push him on why he was the way he was, you just took what he gave you and it was enough. Every living thing has needs and you met his perfectly, unlike the bitch he watched.

Large boots squelched along the damp grass, striding with a wicked intent the shape quietly opened the back door of the home, stepping into the shadows of the hallway. Michael looped into the kitchen where the woman was; she gazed into the black eye holes of the white mask and screamed, faltering to the living room, Michael walked slowly grabbing the largest knife from the wooden block on the counter. Two large strides had the man towering over her figure, slitting her neck from ear to ear.

Michael had planned this from the very moment he saw her yesterday walking past the house you shared with him. She was not you, and that was the point.

[sunlitscribe]

First Lines Meme

thank you for the tags !! @wordspin-shares @reykenobis

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories. (If you have less than 20, just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Tag some people to play the next round!

She couldn’t speak for the rest of the universe, but she tended to avoid things. — og: the supernova trilogy

Thick smoke trailed up from a dying campfire, disappearing into a beautiful blue sky. — witcher oc fic: chaos becomes us (destiny favors us)

Handfuls of sunlight peeked through the window of the brightly painted wheelhouse. — game of thrones au fic: to all those who dared to hope

Remy looked over at the time, her Mystery Machine alarm clock that told her that it was only 1:25 AM, and her body told her that it was too early to even think about twitching. — teen wolf oc fic: something strange in the neighborhood

People tend to forget that to be reborn, you first have to die. — vampire diaries oc fic: supernova

Today would be the day that everything, including herself, would change. — doctor who oc fic: the abyss

Red. Red was now the color of the grass beneath her boots, the bright color stained her hands, and even her kefta — something that had once brought pride was now quickly becoming an eyesore. — shadow and bone oc fic: let me live (let me die)

There was a stifling quiet as soon as the heavy wooden doors shut behind her. — harry potter oc fic: the masquerade

Spencer learned very early on in life that their parents weren't in love with each other. — the 100 oc fic: still breathing?

Big brown eyes peered out from a car window as trees passed by, chubby fingers pressed against the fogged up window, drawing three stick figures, two big and one little like her, with a square shaped home right next to them. — harry potter oc fic: war wounds

There was something about being out at night that felt different. — mcu oc fic: my tears ricochet

She learns of Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ death like any other person, on the breaking news, still jet lagged from her eight-hour flight back home and already on her fourth espresso despite the time of night. — the umbrella academy oc fic: could you leave the light on?

Dreams weren’t supposed to feel this real. — mcu oc fic: no pain no gain

She breathed in and out harshly, sweat coating her brow as she jogged her way down a crowded street. — jatp oc fic: ethereal harmony

Her hands were cold, and her knees and wrists hurt like hell. — dragon age oc fic: unnamed 

Three birds flew above the sleepy neighborhood, their song loud and clear as they chased each other and disappeared into dark skies. — jatp oc fic: invisible strings

She cleaned the last glass until the remnants of the milkshake was gone and it shined under the bright lighting. — teen wolf oc fic: momento mori

She let out a deep exhale as she finished the last of her granola bar off before shoving its empty wrapping inside her pocket. — arrow oc fic: broken promises

i have more but i deleted it for ur safety bc it’s embarrassing 💖💖

my pattern: i obviously like introducing either the main character first through either their surroundings or inner monologue

my favorite: Handfuls of sunlight peeked through the window of the brightly painted wheelhouse. i will always be proud of the pretty image i painted with this opening

i’m tagging: @hughstheforcelou @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle @darknightfrombeyond @witchofinterest @darth-caillic and anyone else who wants to join in 💖

[cjtheghost-14]

After All These Years - Leo Valdez x Reader

Requests: None

Notes: For my first fanfiction I knew I had to do something for my favorite character in the world, Leo Valdez!

Summary: Years ago when you ran away from your dysfunctional family, you met Leo Valdez and quickly fell in love. But, it was not to be. You were torn apart from each other and theres a part of you that never recovered. Years later you live at Camp Half-Blood, being best friends with the legendary Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase. When Percy goes missing the hole Leo left only grows, and when 3 mysterious demigods appear you are suspicious. But then you see Leo. 

Warnings:  Mental Abuse, Swearing, Angst,Depression, Dysfunctional Families, and tons of Fluff.

       Your boots hit the leaf ridden ground silently. Your heart pounding through your chest as you reposition your back pack on your shoulders. You take one last look at your old beaten down and paint chipped house before directing your attention to the path ahead of you. It was pitch black outside, save for the porch light leaking into the darkness beyond. You didn’t know what kind of creatures dwelled in the forest in front of you, but at this point it didn’t matter. After so many years of almost unbearable mental abuse from your (mortal parent), you were finally running away. The only destination in your mind was away. Away from this house of horrors. Away into the great beyond. It was edging into late fall now so you made sure to wear a coat, and pack a few spares too, along with rations, money, and water. You had to refrain from swiping your (mortal parents)’s credit card too, as those cards can be easily tracked. If theres one thing you didn’t want, it would be to come back to this house. 

You take one last deep breath, sucking in the cold night air, before suddenly sprinting away into the woods. Your feet crunch down on the dead leaves as you run. The farther away from the house you get the better you feel, so you speed up, darting through the trees in the dark. A soft laugh escapes your lips. It’s a sound you haven't heard yourself make in years, but the feeling is exhilarating. You laugh again, this time louder. The laughter fills your veins with pure bliss. It’s the happiest you’ve ever been. 

At least, until your boot snags on a tree root, sending you flying forward into the darkness. You put your hands in front of your face, bracing yourself for impact. You hit the ground hard, skidding through the fallen leaves. Then suddenly the ground isn’t there anymore. Your arms fly out and grab a root, sticking out of the cold earth. You look around and realize you're hanging out over a sinkhole. A strangled cry rips through your lungs as you see how deep it goes. The sensible thing to do is calm down and climb out, but your limbs are numb from the cold and the terror. Tears well up in your eyes as your life flashes before you. Your (mortal parent) always blamed you for your (godly parent) leaving, and made it known to the world. You never had a normal life, or a good one for that matter.

 Your hand starts slipping on the root but you're too distracted to notice. Then your cold fingers finally slip off of the root, but before you can fall you feel a warm hand wrap around your wrist. They pull you up and over the ledge of the sinkhole. You immediately stand up and stumble away from the edge, ensuring your safety. Then your eyes drift over to your savior, who’s holding a battery powered lantern that lights up the surrounding area. It’s a Latino boy your age, wearing a grease smeared army jacket. He has wild unruly black curly hair, pointed ears, warm brown eyes, and a mischievous grin creeping up onto his face.  

“That would have been quite the fall, huh?” He says.

“Yeah, I saw my life flash before my eyes.” You say, jokingly making a grimace. 

He chuckles and you smile at his reaction. You had always hid your pain behind humor, and it was an excellent strategy. It was also a plus to make others laugh when you could never yourself. 

“That bad? I can relate, that’s why I’m running away for the…” He trails off, silently counting before saying, “Third time, I think? I’m pretty much an expert by now. Now, what is a cutie like you doing out here?”

You blush slightly and reply with, “Same as you, running away. Except this is my first time.”

“Well…” He says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Since this is your first time and all, how about we stick together? I could show you the ropes.”

You think about it for a moment. Although, what is there to really think about? He seems trustworthy, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly handsome. “You know what? Let’s do it.”

His eyes widen, “W-woah, really? I didn’t really expect you to say yes.” Then his face splits into a giant grin, “My names Leo Valdez, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Well, let me lead you to my campsite, mi princesa.” At that he takes your hand and starts to lead you through the dark forest. 

***

It had been a few weeks since you had met Leo Valdez, and those weeks had been the best weeks of your life. You had become best friends with him fairly quickly. He was just so funny, cute, and selfless. He had opened up to you about his past and his mother and in turn you opened up to him about your past. At this point he knew more about you than even your (mortal parent). You had to admit, you were falling in love with him. 

You were planning on telling him tonight, huddling around your nightly campfire. Your thoughts were interrupted by Leo finally getting the fire started and sitting next to you on the ground. You lean your head on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around you. The days were progressively getting colder and you two needed to keep warm so cuddling turned into a habit.  

“Hey, Leo?” You ask timidly.

“Yeah, mi princesa?” He responds. 

Leo had started using that name for you constantly. You secretly liked it, but every time he called you that you would simply say ‘stuff it, Valdez’. It was like a inside joke, and you loved it. You’ve never had a relationship like that with someone.

“I-I think I love you.” You say, deciding not to beat around the bush.

He immediately grabs your shoulders and spins you around to look at him. “(Y/N) please tell me this is one of your stupid ass jokes.” 

You scoff, “My jokes are better than yours, asshole.”

“So this really isn’t a joke?” He whispers.

You smile softly, “Not a joke.”

“I love you too.” He says.

He starts to lean down but freezes when sirens start. A group of policemen run into the clearing and yell, “There they are! It’s the runaways!” Before you can even get up off of the ground they pull you and Leo by your arms, leading you to separate squad cars. Your eyes widen as you yell, “Leo!”

Leo struggles against the policeman, but to no avail. “(Y/N)! I’ll find you! Don’t worry, I’ll got to the ends of the earth to fi-” He’s cut off when he’s thrown into he back of a police car. 

“Leo!” You yell again before your thrown into a police car yourself.

Years Later

You sit alone under a tree in Camp Half-Blood, mulling over your thoughts and memories as you stare off into space. You weren’t a fan of being left alone with your thoughts, but your best friend Percy was missing and Annabeth was out looking for him, leaving you by yourself. Your thoughts immediately wander back to Leo, making tears well up in your eyes. Leo still hasn’t found you and you haven't found him, and it was eating you up from the inside out. To this day you haven't had a bond with anyone like you had one with Leo. Sure, you helped save the world with Percy and Annabeth but it wasn't the same.

  After you were pulled apart from Leo, you where sent back to your (mortal parent) and the mental abuse only got worse. It wasn’t until a satyr told you that you were a demigod and took you to Camp Half-Blood that you were finally safe. But as the years went by you developed depression, missing Leo with everything you had. You only occasionally smiled at Percy being an idiot, but that was it. These past few months you've barely talked to anyone though. If missing Leo wasn’t enough, now Percy is missing and Annabeth is hysterical. You could barely keep on going. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of screaming. Your head snaps up as you see a chariot sailing through the sky. No, not sailing...falling. Your eyes widen as you realize it’s Annabeth’s chariot. You jump to your feet as you see it crash into the pond. You immediately sprint down to the crash site where others had already gathered.  

Annabeth is standing there soaking wet and looking frustrated while 3 other figures climb out of the pond. You slow down as you watch each of them emerge from the water. First is a girl, with feathers braided into her hair. Next is a boy with blonde hair that honestly looks...really bland. Your heart stops as you see the next person climb out.  It’s a Latino boy your age, wearing a grease smeared army jacket. He has wild unruly black curly hair, pointed ears and warm brown eyes. It’s Leo. Your Leo.

You audibly gasp, making heads turn to look at you. “Leo?!”

Leo scans the crowd, looking a little confused until his eyes land on you. His eyes widen, “(Y/N)?!”

Then you both simultaneously sprint towards each other, knocking over anyone in your way. Leo slows down as he draws closer but you speed up, slamming into him and knocking him over on to the grass. You start sobbing as you look into Leo’s eyes, which tears are welling up in too. 

“I can’t believe it’s you...” Leo whispers.

“I can’t believe it’s you either...Leo, I’ve missed you so much!” You say. Seeing Leo made it feel like a giant burden was lifted of off your shoulders. Seeing him made you feel complete. 

“I looked for you,” He says. “I ran away again and tried to find you but I couldn’t. (Y/N), I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. We’re together again that’s all that matters.” You say, smiling softly. 

He stares at you lovingly, his eyes drifting down to your lips. Then he kisses you. The feeling was something you’ve never experienced but it felt so right. You kiss back eagerly, running your hands through his curly hair. A series of Awwws sound throughout the camp. You pull back and smile. Leo is blushing like mad but smiles back. 

“Wait, this is the Leo?” Annabeth asks. 

You had told Annabeth all about Leo, but now you were regretting it. A bright red blush creeps up onto your face. 

“He’s kinda scrawny.” She comments.

You and Leo look at each other. A smirk appears on your face. “She’s gotta point there Valdez.”

A mischievous grin appears on his face. “At least I don’t tell stupid ass jokes, mi princesa.”

[littlestarofthewest]

A guy insert where he got hurt or kidnapped (just something bad) and he's really scared/anxious and waiting for Arthurs help while Arthur is also extremely worried. Angst😤

Not sure this is angsty enough, but I gave it a try. And we don’t talk about how old this request is 😅

Morgan’s Wrath

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x male reader | Word Count: 1909 | Rating: Mature

You can barely breathe, the fabric around your face cutting off the air. Strong hands claw into the flesh of your arms, dragging you forward. You kick and scream, trying to get out of their grip, but it's two on one, and these guys clearly mean business.

They push you down on something hard, and before you can decipher your surroundings, they tie you down, rope cutting into the skin on your arms.

Someone rips the fabric away from your face, the bright light hurting your eyes. You blink away the pain, desperate to see where you are.

"Look at you," a voice says. "Morgan's little friend."

Your insides freeze now that you know who's talking to you. Finally able to open your eyes, you look at the O'Driscoll. He's smiling, showing off his remaining rotten teeth.

The last time you saw him, you were in Valentine with Arthur. He didn't dare to do anything but spew hatred back then since he was alone, but now, he's surrounded by four other guys.

"Didn't catch your name," Foulmouth says, raising his brows.

"Probably couldn't hear it over your own stench," you say, looking him up and down. "Ever heard of a bath?"

You see the blow coming, but it still hurts like hell. The taste of blood tells you that it must have split your lip, and it burns when Foulmouth grabs your chin to make you look at him.

"You're going to tell us where Morgan is, or I'll make you."

You remember this morning when you stood next to Arthur by the campfire, both of you enjoying your first cup of coffee. Arthur told you how glad he was that you joined the gang. There's no way in hell you're going to betray him.

"Good luck with that," you say, waiting for the next blow.

----------

"Y/N," Arthur shouts into the woods near camp. He knows it's a long shot, but you sometimes go there when you want to be alone.

When there's no answer, he heads back, finding Tilly and Mary-Beth sitting by their wagon.

"Sure you haven't seen him?"

"We've told you already," Tilly says, furrowing her brows. "Arthur, what's going on?"

"I'm not sure," he admits when the girls keep looking at him with worry. "Just a bad feeling."

"Have you asked Pearson?" Mary-Beth asks. "I think Y/N thought about fishing or hunting today. We're low on food again."

"I'll ask him. Thank you."

Arthur quickly makes his way over to Pearson, anger brewing in his stomach. He told Dutch that they were running low and that he wanted to take you with him for a little hunting trip. Of course, Dutch thought bringing in money was more important.

Instead of spending time with you, Arthur's been away from camp for three days. His whole way back, he's been thinking about seeing you again. Arthur tries to tell himself that he just wanted to get home, but worry is turning his insides, and he has to admit to himself that he likes you. He likes you a lot.

"Hey there, Arthur," Pearson says when Arthur draws near. "Good to have you back."

"Have you seen Y/N?"

Pearson throws some ingredients into the stew pot, furrowing his brows. "This morning. I think he thought about going on a quick fishing trip down by the lake."

"Well, did he think about it, or did he actually go?"

Arthur's harsh town makes Pearson look up with worry. "I'm not sure. The sun was just coming up. I could barely see out of my eyes."

"It's the middle of the day. He should be back by now."

"I'm sorry, Arthur," Pearson says, looking around as if he might spot you any second. "I don't-"

"I'll check the lake," Arthur says. "He has to be somewhere."

"But Dutch-"

"I don't care," Arthur shouts, feeling sorry when Pearson flinches. "I just- I'll go find him."

Arthur storms to his horse, not taking anything with him but his rifle. He reaches the lake in record time and travels along the shore, checking the spots where the gang members usually try their luck with fishing. 

Aside from a lonely fisherman who claims that he hasn't seen anybody for hours, Arthur doesn't see a soul. He's about to turn his horse around when he remembers how you told him about your favorite fishing spot. There's a little enclosure with trees that must have fallen over in a storm. The branches reach into the water, sometimes trapping a bunch of fish.

The second Arthur reaches the spot, he knows that something's wrong. He finds your fishing rod broken on the ground and drag marks in the sand, leading into the trees. Arthur's heart beats faster, and he takes his gun out before venturing into the trees. A quick look around tells him that he's too late. Aside from some squirrels that flee his presence, nobody else is there.

Arthur fetches his horse and tries his best to track down where you went. There are hoof marks on the ground, flattened grass, and broken twigs. It becomes clear that someone came through here in a hurry. It's the only good thing in that goddamn bitch of a situation.

While following the tracks, Arthur keeps scolding himself. He should have known that the O'Driscolls wouldn't give up. He just didn't think that they would actually grab one of the gang. It probably would be a good idea to go back to camp and get reinforcements, but Arthur's worried that you don't have that much time. It might already be too late.

Arthur spurs on his horse, forcing it through the trees at a dangerous pace. It won't help anybody if the poor thing breaks a leg, but Arthur can't bring himself to go slower. His stomach is in such turmoil that he feels like he might get sick. If anything happened to you, it's his fault, and he's worried about what he might do.

Arthur's so caught up in thoughts about you that he doesn't spot the man hiding behind a tree. He fires a shot, grazing Arthur's arm. Surprised by the sound, Arthur's horse bucks and throws him off. He manages to roll over, but stones and twigs dig into his skin. His whole body feels like it's been crushed by a giant's fist.

Another shot sounds and dirt flies up next to Arthur's face. He rolls over into a nearby bush, drawing his gun and squinting into the trees. A man comes running, gun drawn, but time seems to slow down when he lifts it up. Blood rushes through Arthur's veins, pumping so loud that it drowns out all other sounds.

In a red fog, the man in front of Arthur glows like a beacon, becoming the perfect target. Arthur aims without thinking, and before he's aware that he pulled the trigger, the man is already falling to the ground.

Arthur takes a few deep breaths before getting up and running over to his attacker. The man is clearly dead, and although Arthur has never seen him, he's sure it's an O'Driscoll. 

It can't be a coincidence that he's here. Whoever took you must be around there somewhere. It's too bad Arthur can't ask the dead guy. He looks through his pockets but doesn't find much, so Arthur whistles for his horse.

After taking his rifle from its saddle, Arthur ventures into the trees without it. If the man was a lookout, there'd be more O'Driscolls about, and they must have heard the shot. Arthur still has a hard time breathing, worried that he might have just signed your death warrant.

Blood is soaking his shirt by now where the bullet tore up his flesh, but he doesn't have time to stop. Despite his whole body aching, he sneaks through the trees, watching out for more O'Driscolls. He doesn't have to go far. Arthur can hear voices, men arguing with each other.

"You're paranoid, that's what that is."

"I heard gunshots, you idiot. What if there's someone coming for him?"

"He's just a little fish. They wouldn't bother."

"We should just shoot him and leave. Now!"

Arthur's heart might beat out of his chest any second. They must be talking about you. He breaks into a run, not caring that somebody might see him.

"Last chance, boy. Tell us where Morgan is, or we'll shoot you," one of the earlier voices says.

"Go to hell!"

Arthur feels like screaming. You sound horrible, but he'd recognize your voice anywhere. It can't be that he's too late.

"Hey, cowards!" he shouts, breaking through the trees.

One of the O'Driscolls stands right by the trees, and without thinking, Arthur hammers his rifle's grip in the guy's face. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, making the other men look over to Arthur like startled deer.

----------

You can barely see, one of your eyes swollen shut. Still, you'd recognize Arthur anywhere. The shape of his body, the way he moves, and even more so, his voice. You wish you could be happy to see him, but worry consumes you. Arthur fights three against one, and there's still the lookout somewhere in the trees. There's no way Arthur can win.

Foulmouth and his man finally move, but Arthur shoots Foulmouth right in the face before they can draw their weapons.  You get to your feet despite the chair, and without thinking, you throw yourself into one of the men. You both go down while Arthur knocks out the other one. Before the guy next to you can get up, Arthur moves over and grabs him.

"Please, let me go," he whimpers, raising his hands. "I have a family."

Arthur takes the gun out of his belt and shoves him. "Get out of here before I change my mind."

The man scrambles to his feet and runs while Arthur turns to you, cutting up the ropes around your wrists.

"Are you okay?" he asks, helping you to your feet.

"Well, my pride is a little dented. Otherwise, I'm fine."

Arthur's eyes roam over your body before focussing on your face. "Except for this."

He reaches up as if to touch you, but then he takes his hand away. You shrug. "That'll be gone in a few days."

"Sorry I didn't come sooner," Arthur says, watching the ground. 

You can't believe that he thinks it's his fault. From what you can see, he fought tooth and nail to get to you. Blood is soaking through the fabric on his arm, and his whole body is covered in scrapes and cuts. You reach up to pull a small twig out of his hair.

"Not your fault," you say, letting your hand cup his face. 

Arthur looks up, and the way his eyes bore into yours makes your knees go weak. You might regret doing more, but at this moment, you can't help it. 

"Thank you, Arthur," you whisper before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on his lips.

He lets out a soft hum, something you've never heard from him before. Then he goes back to staring into the ground. "Just thought- You know, if anything happened to you-"

"Let's take care of that scratch first," you say, your fingers closing around his wounded arm. "And once we're back, I'll take care of you."

Arthur doesn't say anything, but you've rarely seen him fetch his horse that quickly.

[seijch]

➣ the fate of a blade has (and always will be) to live and live and live. whether or not they retain their memories is optional.

kuroo tetsurou + gender neutral!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

high fantasy au, angst

2k

this fic is inspired by the video game xenoblade chronicles 2, but knowledge of that game is not needed to enjoy this fic :-) this fic also takes place in the same universe as my ushijima fic simple life, but the stories of both take place independently of each other !!

Wait.

Stop.

"Kuroo?"

You know him; of course you do. You'd recognize the sharp lines of his face from anywhere, any place, any time. You take his appearance in the same way one would thumb through the pages of their favorite book: with familiarity and all the care in the world.

He turns at the sound of his name, his gaze searching for a moment for the source of the sound. When it lands on you, your heart breaks.

He looks about the same as always, hair permanently disheveled and exactly as annoyingly attractive as you remember.

(He used to lord it over you when you'd admitted it to him. "Oh?" he'd asked, chin in his palm and a twinkle in his eye. You had wanted nothing more than for the ground beneath to swallow you whole.)

It's been almost a full year since you've seen him. You didn't think you'd get the chance to ever again.

"Do I know you?" he asks.

You did, you want to scream.

You did—

(Your eyes blink open for the first time. Well, not really; they've blinked thousands, millions of times before. This just marks the first time your eyes have opened to your current incarnation.

For a moment, you think you're seeing double, the girl you assume is responsible for awakening you shadowed by her doppelganger. Ah, you think. They must be identical twins.

Introductions are standard. They have to be, when all you've come into this life with is your name and the innate knowledge of your power. Such is the life of a blade, you suppose. You come into this world with one purpose, one goal: to serve your driver, the person who summons you. 

Thankfully, your driver and her sister look nice enough, but their company does not, all scarred faces and scowls.

"Tough crowd, right?" a voice asks, low in your ear. You startle, whipping around to strike your would-be assailant. It's another blade, judging by the gem embedded in his chest and the vaguely unhuman look in his eyes. He holds his hands up in surrender, a playful grin on his face. "What a way to greet someone you've just met," he drawls. When your body relaxes, he offers his hand for you to shake. "I'm Kuroo. And as for this," he nods to the grim atmosphere of the camp, "you get used to it."

Niceties, it seems, are few and far between when your trade is entirely underground. Both your driver—and Kuroo's, whose driver is the mirror image of your own—were involved with the illegal dealing of core crystals, the very thing blades are summoned from.

You voice these concerns to Kuroo on your second night. "It took me a while to get used to it, too. Turns out our drivers aren't as morally corrupt as the rest of the crew." Blades tended to take after their drivers, their personality overlaid over the blade's to make each incarnation unique. "But hey," he rations, tossing a deep orange gem with one hand, "money makes the world go 'round, doesn't it?")

You did—

("You've got to try harder than that," he teases, the tip of his katana kissing the gem on your chest. "I was just starting to have fun, too." You hiss, ignoring the sting as you get up from where Kuroo's knocked you on your ass.

"Oh, I'll show you fun," you growl. He only smiles, dropping into a fighting stance as you pick up your weapon, a cannon drawing its projectiles from the ether energy in the air. You've long since learned that Kuroo is an opponent you can't hope to beat; there were a select few blades that were lauded throughout history for their power. Kuroo Tetsurou, wielder of the Chaos Uchigatana, happens to be one of them.

But that sure as hell won't stop you from trying.)

You did—

(The sparring sessions become routine, and you end up playing into Kuroo's hands every time. Each blow landed is an uphill battle against his strength, his skill.

Out of all the mornings and nights spent butting heads, you can only remember one instance where you come out on top.

Your breathing is hard, the cannon focused at his head. You'd tumbled into his lap at some point, but your head is hazy with the fog of victory. "I did it," you pant, chest heaving.

"After what?" he asks, as though he wasn't pinned to the ground. "How many losses did it take you, hm? Fifty? Eighty?" The real number—not like anyone was counting—is closer to ninety-seven. You wisely choose not to tell him that.

"You're not going to take this from me," you tell him as your breathing evens out, crooking a finger at him. Only then do you notice the space—or lack thereof—between you. You scramble to get up, offering him a hand. It's warm. Calloused. Fits perfectly in your own.

You try not to think about it.)

You did—

("What is this, Kuroo?" You're the only two awake, up for the last shift of guard duty while the rest of camp snoozes under the night sky. The only light around is the campfire Yaku set up hours ago. It burns low, crackling enough to cut through the silence.

"What is what?"

"Don't play dumb with me," you mutter from his shoulder, a bit muffled. "We both know you're smarter than that." His shoulders rise a bit, like a wave cresting and falling as he exhales from his nose in a half-laugh.

"Let's say," he deflects, "one of our drivers dies tomorrow." 

“How morbid. Are you talking about my driver?”

“Why would I be talking about your driver? It could be either of us. That’s the point of a hypothetical situation. It’s not likely to happen.”

“You tell me, Mr. Ninety-Seven.” You’re sure he’ll take the compliment, say something about how his total number of wins against you has gone up into the hundreds, but he surprises you with what he says next.

“Don’t pretend like we’re not equals.” When you huff, he exhales, refocusing.

"Let me finish. Let's say one of our drivers dies tomorrow. One of us returns to our crystal. When they're reawakened," he does his best to crane his neck, trying to make eye contact, "we won't remember this. We won't remember us."

"Yeah." It's a fact of life; blades only live as long as their drivers do. They return to the conscious, corporeal plane once they're reawakened. It's something you know, something you'll always know, through this life and the next. You're sure there are countless people, blades and drivers alike, that have been wiped clean from the slate of your memory. "And?"

"Is it so bad," he says, barely audible, like he's trying to convince himself to believe it rather than persuade you into agreeing, "to be so selfish with your present because you'll never remember the past and aren't promised a future?")

You did—

(The next job ends in an ambush from some of the competition.

You're sure the exertion will weigh on you later, but right now, you relish in it. You've long since passed the point of being one with your driver. The ether bond between you causes you both to glow golden with the raw energy being used, and she handles your cannon with ease. They say that it's during battles that the lines that separate driver and blade are the most muddled, and right now, you know it to be true. You’re certain that you two can take on whatever comes, that you’re on top of the world and nothing will take you down.

So you do just that, the cannon's shots of ether echoing into the night, against the rock walls of the cliffs surrounding the valley.

The dust clears. The euphoria of battle begins to seep out of your bones.

Your driver's twin sister—Kuroo's driver—lies broken and bloody on the dry grass.

"No," your driver sobs, her eyes glassy in a way you've never seen in all your months together, "you said it was us against the world." Her voice cracks, "You said-"

"I know what I said." Kuroo's driver has always been the more rational twin, hasn’t she? When she smiles, her teeth and gums are stained red. "I meant it. Still do." Her words are punctuated with a gurgle bringing with it a bubble of blood that pops on her lips. "It always will be. Now run."

"What-"

"Reinforcements are coming!" Yaku shouts, out of breath as he runs in your direction. You're not sure if it's because of exhaustion or because his driver's life force is ebbing away, the ocean itself receding in time for low tide.

"I can't leave you behind," your driver cries, tears running down her cheeks unbidden. Kuroo is fighting them off by himself, a speck barely recognizable in the distance. He's winning, too—for now.

A blade with a driver on their last legs won't last. The realization is heavy as it drops to the pit of your stomach, like a pebble creating ripples in a pond.

"You have to. What's the first thing we learned on the job?"

It's one of the first things you learned about the job, too: when things go south, it’s time to bail out.

You're told to run and not look back.

You and your driver—you're sure it's a trait inherited from her—have never been good listeners.

When you chance a glance behind you, you're just in time to see Kuroo and Yaku's core crystals fall to the ground as their driver takes her last breath.)

You did.

(Life is dull after that. Colors are no longer as vibrant, the excitement that came with each day long gone. You wonder if that excitement was something that came with Kuroo alone.

Gone are the sparring sessions, the late nights spent on watch duty. You know your driver has it worse; she's despondent half the time, enough for the crew to leave her to fend for herself.

"We have enough money," you tell her one afternoon. The coins clink softly as you draw the strings of her purse closed. "Let's buy a place somewhere. I hear Uraya is nice this time of year. Would you like that?"

"Yeah," she replies. The firecracker you’d come to know and love has fizzled out. "I'd like that."

You pretend to not notice the locket she clutches close to her chest when the nightmares get the best of her. When you'd first awakened, Kuroo had been the one to tell you the story behind it: it was the first thing the two of them bought with the money from their first job.

You wonder where Kuroo and Yaku are now, eyes trained on the view of the sky from the window of the inn. You wonder if they've returned to the land of the living.

But thinking like that won't get you anywhere; after all, even if they were, it wouldn't be the Kuroo and Yaku you know.)

His eyes are guarded, entirely without recognition. In the end, he was right. (And you're sure that if Kuroo—your Kuroo, not this Kuroo that stands before you—was still around, this would be yet another victory held over your head. You find it a little annoying that he's still winning, even now.)

In the end, you are the one left with the memories. The weight of them is enough to bring you to your knees, to drag you into the depths with no chance of ever seeing the light again. Every fiber of your body wants to reach out to him, to ask "Don't you remember me?"

But you've had your share of selfishness.

Your driver is waiting for you to return with the groceries. (She's taken to cooking these days. She's no good at it, but the humming you hear from the kitchen on good days makes eating her awful dishes more than worth it.)

You swallow, but it does nothing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

"No," you smile up at him. The edges of it are a bit too strained to be genuine, and he notices. You’ve known him long enough that you can read his tells, the slight narrow of his eyes when he picks up on something poorly concealed. He’s perceptive, as always. You suppose some things never change.

(Your Kuroo knew you. He knew you well enough that the slightest change in mood would tip him off. But then again, that feels like ages and years and lifetimes ago.

Now, you’re just a stranger that’s stopped him in the middle of the street.)

"You don't."

[panda-noosh]

Hello! I saw that you might be taking requests, and I really hope that’s true because I don’t want to seem annoying or as a pest. You’re writing for ATLA is my favorite, so I was wondering if you could do a zuko x reader where he joins the gaang, but the reader still really hates him for what he’s done. Something happens, and unknowingly the two start falling for each other. Hope I’m not being annoying, and I hope you and your family are doing well!

  It’s quite difficult being forced to work with someone you can’t stand.

   It’s for the good of the world. You know this. You’re reminded of it constantly, Katara in one ear, Aang in the other. They try convincing you that Zuko isn’t that bad, that he’s changed and he’s a new man, and all of that might be true - you know it to be true, but that doesn’t change the fact he’s the most annoying person on the planet.

   You don’t hate him because he’s a bad person. You hate him because he’s him.

   He teases you to no ends, jabbing you in the side, taking your seat around the campfire just because he knows it’s yours. He makes noises outside your tent just so he can later laugh when you spring into the night wielding a weapon, only to find him kneeling nearby, bent double.

    He makes your blood boil.

   He’s also really attractive.

   Katara’s told you on multiple occasions that the only reason you feel such distaste for the prince is because you have feelings for him. She says the signs are there. You’ve never really humoured her, considering it’s the truth, and it’s messed up that it’s the truth. It was his nation that ruined your own, his people that ripped the world to shreds, and the entire time he was in support of it all. He stood behind his monster of a father and he nodded along, pretending everything was going to be alright as long as the Fire Nation reigned supreme.

   Just because he’s turned a new leaf doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t erase the damage that’s already been done. 

    You watch him now, because that’s all you can do when the others are out scavenging. You swear they do it on purpose, leave all together just so you and Zuko will be alone, forced to acknowledge each other’s presence. He’s stood in the river, trousers rolled up, hands submerged in the water as he tries his hardest to catch a fish. Steam rises off the surface, Zuko cursing when he pulls his hands out and cools them down.

    You lean back on your elbows. “Struggling?”

   “Yes.”

    “That sucks. I thought princes were meant to be good at everything.”

   Zuko scowls at you before dunking his hands back in the water. “You know, you could help me out here a little bit; you need to eat, too.”

    “I’ve already got my dinner sorted,” you reply, gesturing to the deer you and Sokka were able to hunt down a few hours prior, agreeing to split the meat for dinner tonight. 

    Zuko stares at the lump of meat for a second, and you can nearly see his mouth watering. He bites his lip, ducks his eyes back down to the water and continues his search for a meal of his own.

    “Can you not control your powers?” you ask, ripping grass from the floor, sprinkling it over your shoe.

    Zuko shrugs. “I can’t really feel my hands too well when they’re in the water.”

   “Why not?”

   “It’s too cold, makes my fingers numb so I can’t even tell when they’re coming to the surface.”

   You frown, clambering to your feet. Honestly, you should just let him suffer. He’s just going to tease you, and you can’t be bothered with that right now, but you also can’t just let him starve to death. And so, you clamber down the hill, roll the hem of your trousers up past your ankles before wading into the water.

    “What are you doing?” he asks. “The water’s too warm-”

   “Do you want to eat tonight or not?” You nudge his shoulder, very nearly toppling him over. He manages to catch himself only seconds before falling. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

    Zuko growls low under his breath, but you ignore him as you dunk your hands beneath the steady flowing waves and feel around. Zuko stands beside you, arms folded over his chest, eyes heavily lidded, because he’s doubting you. Of course he is. For his entire time with the group, he’s done nothing but doubt you. 

    But now he’s going to see just how wrong he was to do that. You know what you’re doing, have been doing it for much longer than him. You never had servants running to fulfil your every wish and desire. Not like he did.

    It takes only a few minutes for you to make a catch. The scales are rough against your fingers, but you recognise the feeling immediately. You curl your fingers around it, pulling with all your might-

    And that’s when you slip.

    It happens so fast. One minute you are breathing like a normal person, and the next you’re submerged, water filling your open mouth, stinging your eyes, and you try to scream because that’s all you can think to do when you’re in danger-

    Hands wrap around your waist and pull you back to the surface

    You gasp, flailing hair out of your face, swiping it back with trembling hands. Zuko stands over you, his own eyes wide, his mouth dropped open as he struggles to find anything to say that can comfort you as you wriggle in his arms, panic coursing through you.

    “I’ve got you,” he finally manages, pulling you closer. “What the hell happened there?”

    “I slipped. I just slipped.” You try pulling away from him, but he keeps a tight hold on your body, and suddenly the fact that you nearly just drowned doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. His arms are around you, fingers burning into your waist, and it’s all you can focus on, and you hate it. You hate that he can have such power over you, that he can conjure such feelings from you when all you’ve ever done is give off the illusion that you will and can never forgive him.

    But this is what Katara meant all along. There’s something there, something that’s been there from the day Zuko broke through that tree line and apologised for his wrongs. It scared the shit out of you, but now it’s rising again, and you’re too shocked to push it away.

    His thumbs come up, gently brushing the water droplets from your cheeks. You close your eyes, swallowing deeply.

   “I lost your fish,” you mumble. 

   Zuko shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

   “You - You can have a bit of the deer if you want.”

   “Are you being nice to me, Y/N?”

   You groan. “You just saved my life. I have to do something.”

   Zuko tilts his head to the side, a tiny smile playing on his face. That breaks you. You’re going to kiss him if you don’t get away now.

   You finally push away from him, for real this time, and start wading for the shore again. Zuko calls your name, almost a desperate plea, but you don’t turn back. Yes, he’s just saved your life, but how embarrassing will it be for you to run into his arms after spending months pretending you hate him?

    “Y/N! For gods sake, wait!”

    He grabs your wrist, whirling you around to face him.

   “What? Let go!”

   “Why are you storming off?” he demands, sounding almost angry. His brows are furrowed, lips pulled into a thin line. His grip is slack on your wrist, but it’s there nonetheless, fingers once again burning into your flesh.

    “Because I have - I have things to do,” you reply, refusing to meet his eyes. “The whole world doesn’t revolve around you, Zuko. Not any more.”

    “Why do you always have to give me some snarky response?” he asks. “What did I do to piss you off so much?”

    You scoff. “What did you do? Zuko, it was only a few months ago you were in full support of your father ripping the world to pieces!”

   “I didn’t support him! I explained everything to you! I apologised-”

   “Oh, an apology! Aren’t you a little Angel?”

   He scowls, dropping your hand. “What more do you want?”

   So much more. So much more. So much more.

    “I want you to leave me alone.”

    And then suddenly it’s silent, and neither of you are moving, which reveals the lie almost immediately. He’s no longer holding you. He’s no longer talking. The conversation is over. You have every opportunity to just. . . leave, to run in the opposite direction and do exactly as you always said you craved - to never see Prince Zuko again.

    But you don’t budge.

   “So go,” he says, voice soft. “I’m not stopping you any more. If you really want to leave, then leave.”

    You take a step back. Just one, testing the waters. It feels weird. He’s still standing there, and how can you possibly leave without kissing him first?

    He steps forward, gently grabbing your wrist, drawing your hand to his chest where you let it linger beneath his collarbone. 

    “Leave, Y/N. Nobody’s stopping you.”

   You kiss him.

    You kiss him because you need to. You kiss him because he’s him, because he’s Prince Zuko, the tainted little prince who was once locked under the spell of his father, just like every other little boy in the world. He’s Prince Zuko, the one who was able to break free, the one who suddenly grew a mind of his own and saw the light in the end of it all.

    He pulls you closer. Your hips crash against his, your hands trailing through his dark locks, pulling him closer, closer, closer until you just seem desperate, and he’s laughing against your mouth because he knows. 

    “How long have you been holding back on me?” he asks against your lips.

   You roll your eyes and jump. He grunts, catching you just as you wind your legs around his waist and the two of you stumble back into the water, Zuko hissing when the cold water laps at his ankles. 

    You pull away shortly after, dropping your forehead to his. You can’t even open your eyes, trembling in your excitement, your confusion, your nervousness all rolled into one.

    “I knew it!”

    Aang’s voice comes out of nowhere. Your head whips round just in time to see him leap in the air, throwing his fist up in victory.

    “Our plan worked guys! They kissed!” 

[maria-scribbles]

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part two

summary: the pogues get up to a few shenanigans, burn the shit out of some marshmallows, and have a group hug of epic proportions. the dynamic duo of kiara and sailor brings out girl power in full force before getting real about a certain golden group rule. 

word count: 4.2k+ 

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings: mentions of abuse/neglect/parental abandonment/anxiety, underage drinking, weed usage, more fluff, flirting, reference to absolute legend kobe bryant

a/n: hello again! thank you all for the great response to part one, i’m seriously blown away and so grateful for your support! <3 i’m happy y’all enjoyed reading about sailor’s adventures with the pogues! here’s part two, which had previously been combined with part one but i decided to split it because it was getting wayyyy too long (over 8k words, oops). also i’ve never even seen weed with my own two eyes before so my bad if that part’s not realistic, i did my best lol. unbetaed, so i apologize for any mistakes. enjoy!

gif credit goes to @toesure​

~Masterlist~

part one | part three | part four | playlist

part two: treading water 

The pogues spend the next few hours among the waves, surfing their hearts out until they’re waterlogged, exhausted, and hungry. As the sun starts to sink over the island they pile into John B’s beat up Volkswagen, all their boards tied together on the roof, and head to The Wreck, where Kiara’s dad begrudgingly feeds his daughter and her ‘delinquent’ friends.

That word seems pretty harsh at first but as the evening goes on and the group gets a little louder, it’s kind of well-deserved. Pope can’t seem to stop dropping his fork, sending the rest of them into hysterical laughter each time, and everyone knows when Taylor Swift comes on the radio, Sailor has an obligation to get up and dance. The fact that she knocks a chair over in her haste to show off her moves only makes them laugh harder. When they finally leave and head back to the Chateau for the night, she makes sure to put forty bucks on their table for the food and the twelve pack of beer Kiara swipes from behind the bar when Mr. Carrera isn’t looking.

While it may not look like much, John B’s house if home for more than just him. It’s a safe port for all the pogues when they get lost in the storm, a place where they can all be themselves, be real, without judgement, and it’s Sailor’s second favorite place on the island. She’s lost count of how many nights she’s spent here, sleeping in the spare room, on the pull-out couch, and the hammock in the yard (sleepovers have become even more common in the eight months since Big John’s disappearance at sea, no one willing to leave his son all alone in an empty house.).

The hammock is where she finds herself now on this warm June night, sitting beside JJ with his arm around her shoulders, clad in his sweatshirt that she unashamedly stole last year, passing a joint back and forth while the others lounge around the small bonfire, roasting the old marshmallows John B found in the very back of one of his kitchen’s cupboards and drinking beer. One of her long legs dangles over the edge, toes pushing against the cool grass as they lazily swing back and forth, watching Kiara burn her third marshmallow in a row.

“Kie, what did those poor things ever do to you?” Sailor asks, exhaling smoke through her nose before passing the joint to JJ, and the brush of his fingers against hers sends warmth through her whole body. Kiara just shoots her the bird in response as she stabs her fourth marshmallow and holds it over the fire. The redhead laughs and rests her head against JJ’s shoulder, her limbs light as air. In the distance, lightning arcs between the clouds and creates a dazzling show over the water as thunder rumbles but none of them care enough to notice.

Although she never outright asks to smoke, she also never refuses the chance to get high with her best friend and let their problems drift away with every hit, if only for a little while. Lines get a little blurry between them, too, as both become oh so affectionate with each other when their inhibitions disappear like the sun over the horizon. She sighs contentedly at the blissful feeling of his fingers running through her hair and burrows further into his side, turning so she can throw an arm over his waist and curl her own fingers into the soft material of his shirt.

“Damn it!” John B yells as his marshmallow, in the span of a few seconds, catches fire and unceremoniously falls into the flames with a hiss.

“Ha, I’m not the only one on the struggle bus!” Kiara laughs gleefully, delicately turning her fourth attempt to keep it from burning like the other three. “We can’t all be Pope, I guess.”

The other boy looks up at the mention of his name and grins, holding out a perfectly toasted marshmallow on the end of the stick in his hand. “It takes talent, Kie.” He jokes, chuckling as she sticks her tongue out at him.

Sailor can’t help laughing, too when the two of them dive headfirst into a heated discussion about the finer points of roasting things over a campfire, their voices becoming louder and louder as they try to talk over one another while John B, unfazed from his spot between them, just holds another marshmallow over the fire and ignores them completely as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Aaaand JB’s totally checked out of that particular conversation,” She says to JJ under her breath and she feels more than hears him laugh in response.

“Poor bastard,” He whispers back before taking one last hit of the joint, now burnt down to a nub in his hand, and flicking it into the fire with a shout of “Kobe!”

“Nice one, hotshot.” She shifts her head up on his shoulder as her eyes unabashedly trace his profile in the warm orange glow of the fire, from the golden hair falling haphazardly onto his forehead and down the straight slope of his nose to the curve of his lips before she’s caught -not that she was being subtle in any possible way-, his ocean blue gaze holding hers with an electrified energy that would’ve normally set her whole face aflame. She’s not Normal Sailor now though, she’s High Sailor and High Sailor has positively zero shame so she just looks up at him with a saccharine smile on her face and blesses the fact that weed makes her bold as hell. 

The flickering flames throw JJ’s features into sharp relief and highlight the dimples that she loves as he returns her smile, the hand in her hair now twirling a single curl around his finger. His free hand settles on the strip of bare skin at her waist where her sweatshirt has ridden up and her heart beats a little faster when he starts drawing agonizingly slow circles with his thumb. Her hand releases its grip on his shirt and before she even realizes it, she’s reaching up and brushing a finger along her jaw, just like he’d done to her that afternoon on the beach, and she feels the fingers at her waist press against her skin. 

It’s moments like these that make her wish she could freeze time and live in them forever. Just the two of them, looking at each other like they’re more than just friends, touching each other like they’re falling into something beautiful and all they need to do is stick the landing. The possibility of taking that final leap teases her. He’s so close, it wouldn’t take much to just reach up and make that minuscule distance between them disappear and from the way his eyes flick down to her mouth and back, she’s sure he’s thinking the same. They won’t though and for now that’s okay, but deep down she wonders just how long they can balance on the cliff’s edge before they both fall. 

As much as she’d like to stare at his stupidly handsome face all night, the weather has other plans as lightning flashes white across the sky, immediately followed by a big crack of thunder that makes Sailor jump and accidentally headbutt JJ right in the forehead. The stick in Pope’s hand goes flying somewhere into the bushes when he startles, too, and there’s a pause as everyone looks at each other before bursting into wild laughter.

“Jesus, Sail,” JJ says, reaching up to rub at the spot she hit, “you have a hard head.”

Her reply of “speak for yourself!” is drowned out by another clap of thunder and seconds later it starts pouring rain, sending the group scrambling to head back inside the Chateau before they get too drenched. The duo, in their haste, get tangled together in the hammock and nearly fall to the ground in a heap but manage to hold each other up with their hands clasped tight, both laughing so hard she’s sure the water on their faces is more than just rain.

“The beer! Don’t forget the beer!” Someone yells and John B, halfway to the porch in front of them, does a smooth 180 on the wet grass and runs back for the booze sitting beside the dying fire, sending them a lazy salute when he passes by.

“We honor your sacrifice, Captain!” JJ calls over his shoulder before they clamber onto the porch alongside a giggling Kiara.

“Oh my God, you two almost bit it so hard.” She says while wringing out her shirt, adding to the steadily growing puddle of water at their feet.

“But we didn’t, all thanks to me and my impeccable balance.” He says proudly, grinning down at the girl still snug against his side before she lets go of his hand to slug him in the shoulder.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Oh please, J, I was the one who kept you from falling on your face. Now, hold still.” Sailor orders and places her hand on his arm, using him for balance as she brushes the grass from her feet.

“Yes, ma’am.” His reply is low in her ear, his hand settles even lower on her back, and she pretends the shiver her body makes is just from the cool rain.

“You like being bossed around, Maybank?”

Her hand grips his strong shoulder a little bit tighter, and she feels his fingers tighten on her sweatshirt as he replies, “Depends on who’s doing the bossing, Flynn.”

Kiara coughs pointedly, staring at them with her eyebrows raised and Sailor feels her face begin to flush bright red because, to be honest, she’d kind of forgotten she was even there as they both let go of each other. The other girl snickers and drawls, “If you two are quite done-”

Thankfully, a thoroughly soaked John B joins them and interrupts whatever Kiara was going to say, his hair plastered to his face and dripping onto the soggy carton of beer protectively cradled in his arms.

“Mission accomplished.” He says with a satisfied smile, setting the drinks down on a chair before shaking his head like a dog and splattering rainwater on everyone, including Pope as he emerges from the house carrying a pile of towels. A few drops land on his cheek and he wrinkles his nose in disgust, wiping them away with his own towel hanging around his neck.

“I was just kidding about the beer.” He says, throwing one and smacking John B right in the face, then kindly passing out the rest. Sailor barely grabs the last one before Pope’s suddenly put in a headlock by the brunet boy, yelling something about mutiny and a captain “not standing for this” as they start to grapple back and forth. JJ pauses in the middle of drying his hair and instantly jumps into the fray after tossing his towel to the floor, the scuffle quickly turning into a three way wrestling match.

She and Kiara both glance at each other and roll their eyes before scooting by the melee and heading into the house, leaving the boys to do their thing. They quickly dry off and change into pajamas, hang their wet clothes up to dry in the bathroom, and then tiredly flop onto the bed in the spare room together.

“How long do you think it’ll take until Wrestlemania out there’s done?” Sailor asks, rolling onto her stomach and reaching to pull her phone and glasses out of her bag on the floor; under her newly acquired hat, the lightning whelk peeks through its towel and the sight of it makes her smile softly. Kiara snorts and sits up, crossing her legs and running her fingers through her damp hair. “Knowing those fools, too long.”

The redhead laughs and mirrors the other girl’s position before slipping her glasses on and glancing down at her phone in trepidation, where no new texts block the lock screen picture of her and the rest of the pogues, and she does her best to ignore the hurt coiling in her chest, the smile fading from her face. She places the phone screen down on the bedside table and when she raises her head, she’s not surprised to find Kiara, ever so perceptive, staring at her with sympathy in her soft brown eyes.

“You okay?” She asks and Sailor takes off her glasses, then pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them.

“Could be better.”

Lightning illuminates the room, followed by an impressive crack of thunder a few seconds later as rain continues to pound against the window and down the hall, they hear the door slam closed as the boys finally storm inside after their scuffle, still yelling like banshees. The other girl reaches over and quickly squeezes her wrist before shooting her a bright smile.

“If you ever need to vent, I’m all ears.”

She knows she means it. Aside from JJ, Kiara’s her closest friend and from the moment they met, the two had quickly bonded over being the only girls in the group and their love of the environment: she’s lost count of how many times they’ve volunteered, both themselves and the rest of the pogues, to help raise money for animals. Despite Kiara’s kook year, Sailor considers her a sister and knows that Kie feels the same about her. Having each other’s backs no matter what is just what they do.

The redhead looks away from watching the storm outside and matches Kiara’s smile, then scoots closer to wrap her arms around her in a grateful hug.

“Thanks, Kie.” 

The dark haired girl eagerly returns the embrace. “Any-”

“Comin’ through, gotta get me some of this group hug action!” JJ yells, storming into the room like a hurricane and throwing his arms around them, all but tackling them onto the bed before they even realize what’s happening.

“No, no, you’re still wet!” Sailor cries as his head rests against the back of her neck, his damp hair slowly beginning to soak into her shirt while Kiara growls, “Oh my God, get off!” 

“And miss out on this? No way.” He says cheekily and pulls them both closer, ignoring the dark haired girl’s venomous glare and attempts to pry his hand away from her arm. Sailor, resigned to her fate, just laughs and calls over his arm to John B and Pope as they curiously poke their heads in from the hall, “Get your asses in here!”

She doesn’t have to tell them twice. They throw themselves into the hug faster than she can blink and with such contagious enthusiasm that Kiara can’t fight the affectionate grin making its way onto her face, even as she threatens, “I’m gonna kill all of you.”

Sailor rests her cheek on JJ’s outstretched arm and smiles to herself. This, right here and now, is where she belongs, surrounded by the best friends she could ask for, living each moment to its fullest. No matter what comes their way, she knows this is true: as long as they all stand together, the pogues will be just fine. 

Some time later, the hug comes to an end as JJ jokingly complains about Sailor’s big head making his arm numb, which earns him a swift elbow to the stomach from the redhead.

“Weak.” She replies, smirking at the little oof he makes before grabbing his arm and pulling them both up from the bed. “Now get out.” 

“Please.” Kiara agrees and pushes John B out the door, followed by Pope. “This room is girls only.”

“Since when?” The latter asks, sidestepping to avoid JJ as he’s playfully shoved into the hall by Sailor, who replies, “Right now.”

“Why?”

“’Cause we said so!” Both girls say in unison before they slam the door shut and then lean their backs against it, giggling. On the other side, they hear Pope ask in a very amused voice, “I thought this was your house?”

John B sighs the deepest sigh they’ve ever heard before replying, “Yeah, I did, too.”

“Ten bucks they’re gonna talk shit about us.” JJ says and there’s a not so subtle bump against the door that gives away the fact that he’s got his ear pressed to it, trying to listen in on them; a fact that gets proven when Sailor smacks her hand on it and makes him stumble back with a yelp of surprise.

“Dream on!”

“You wish!”

She and Kiara call at the same time, then glance at each other and burst into another fit of giggles.

“Tough break, dude. You’ll feel better in the morning.” That was John B’s tactless way of saying he’s tired without actually saying it and seconds later they hear his footsteps disappear down the hall to his room as he makes his escape, followed faintly by the sound of his door swinging shut.

“You don’t talk about us at all, Sail? Seriously?” JJ asks and Sailor can almost feel the sheer force of Pope’s inevitable eye roll when he mumbles under his breath, “Oh my God.”

Kiara’s on the same wavelength as him because she rolls her eyes, too and all but yells, “If we say yes will you fucking leave?” 

There’s a pause and then: a slightly miffed “...yes.” along with Pope trying and failing to disguise his laugh as a cough.

“Then yes, we do talk about you. Now go.”

“Okay, okay! Jeez.”

“Goodnight, boys!” Sailor calls in a singsong voice before hearing them retreat to the living room, arguing about who gets the sleeper sofa and who gets stuck with the regular couch. When she’s sure they’re gone she shakes her head fondly (she doesn’t see why they can’t just get over themselves and share the damn thing) and turns back to Kiara, who’s already in the middle of pulling the damp comforter from the bed, her face the picture of disgust. 

“Ugh,” She shudders, tossing it to the floor and then wiping her hands on a discarded towel from earlier. “Don’t touch that.”

“No shit.”

The dark haired girl jokingly flips Sailor the bird and then joins her in lounging on the bed, watching the fan spin in circles above their heads while the storm outside continues to rage on. The silence is comforting, soothing, and goes on for so long that the redhead’s nearly sent off to dreamland by the sound of the rain before Kiara finally speaks, “Hey, Sail?”

She hums in response, slowly turning her head to face her and blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” She replies with an impish grin, but it slips from her face when the other girl shoots her a flat, unamused glance. 

“Ha ha. I’m being serious, okay?”

Well that wasn’t worrying at all. “Is something wrong?” Sailor asks, rolling onto her side to face her friend completely and propping her head on her arm, all traces of lethargy thrown out the window. Kiara does the same with an unreadable look in her eyes as she answers, “No, I’m just a little...okay, a lot curious about something, and I want you to be honest with me.”

“I mean, I kind of have to. You know I suck at lying.”

She frowns when Kiara doesn’t even react to her comment and instead starts to worry her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s kind of a personal question, though.”

Oh, Jesus. She’s gonna ask about her dad, Sailor knows it, and that’s something she’s just not ready to talk about -she hasn’t even told JJ the whole story yet and she tells him (almost) everything- but before she can think of a semi-decent excuse, or run to the bathroom, or pretend to just pass the fuck out, Kiara blurts, “What’s the deal between you and JJ?”

Okay, that’s decidedly not what she expected to hear and it completely throws her for a loop, her brain blowing a fuse in epic fashion. A long stream of gibberish comes from her mouth as she tries and fails to articulate a response because holy hell she’s so not prepared for this; she’s a listener, not a talker! She’s the confidante not the confider, the asker not the answerer, and she can feel herself getting a little sweaty at just the thought of talking about her feelings, even with someone as close to her as Kiara. She almost wishes the other girl had asked about her dad.  

To be honest she should’ve seen this coming, considering the looks Kiara’s been sending her recently and especially today, the ones that clearly meant that the dark haired girl’s seen what’s been happening and wants. that. tea. What Sailor doesn’t get though, is why she’s being so serious about it: she expects at least an overexaggerated wink or a teasing comment or two from her friend but she’s just waiting patiently, the slightest hint of mirth in her eyes. 

Finally, the redhead manages to collect her panicked thoughts enough to squeak oh so eloquently, “Me-him-nothing!” 

Kiara arches one eyebrow. “Sail, you really do suck at lying.”

Sailor flops back onto the bed and slides her hands down her furiously blushing face with a groan. “I’m not lying.” She mutters insistently but even she can admit it sounds weak as hell.

“It’s obvious there’s something-”

Something in her snaps and before she can stop them, words just start coming out with the force of a wave crashing against the shore, rough and callous. “It’s obvious there’s nothing going on, okay? Nothing. And even if there was -not that I’m saying there is- it can’t happen. That’s the golden rule, Kie.” 

Kiara looks momentarily taken aback at the redhead’s outburst and then rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before she whispers quietly, like a secret she’s reluctant to share, “Maybe I think that rule is stupid.” 

“Stupid?” Sailor glances over incredulously, the brief flash of anger aimed at her friend slowly morphing into confusion. “You’re the one who came up with it in the first place!”

“I know...” The dark haired girl sighs, tiredly running her hands through her hair, “I wanted to keep things from getting weird! It’s worked pretty well so far but I’m kind of, sort of, maybe starting to think it might not have been the best idea.”

“Why?” She asks, brow furrowing.

Kiara appears deep in thought as she keeps staring at the ceiling, working her jaw until she seems to come to a decision and turns her head to look Sailor in the eye. “Because I don’t think something as simple as a rule should be able to dictate who you can or can’t...love.”

Oh, God. Anxiety starts to take hold in her chest and she tries to keep her brain from going into five-alarm fire mode, her fingers tapping nervously against her leg. Why oh why did she have to say the L-word? Who said anything about that? Hell, it’s been a few months and she’s still getting used to her world-changing, panic-inducing, everything-clicking-into-place epiphany that made her realize that she does, in fact, like JJ as more than a friend (how and when her feelings changed, she hasn’t quite figured that out yet.). She’s not even close to thinking about love. Noticing her friend’s distress, Kiara reaches over to place her darker hand on the paler girl’s and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“I’m not saying you love him, okay? But there’s obviously something good going on between you guys and I’m not cool with some dumb rule we made when we were twelve getting in the way of your happiness,” Her mouth curls into a lighthearted smirk, “even if it happens to be with someone as, uh, distinct as JJ.”

Despite herself, Sailor snorts a laugh and the tight feeling in her chest slowly starts to become a little more bearable as its replaced by a swell of gratitude that she has a person as wonderful as Kiara for a friend. She really did luck out in that department, she thinks, and the corner of her mouth lifts in a small smile. 

“Distinct?”

“Hey, I was gonna say idiotic but I’m trying to be nice here.” The dark haired girl says, laughing as Sailor affectionately rolls her eyes before continuing, “But you do know that if he messes this up I’ll kick his ass, right?”

“Trust me, I do.”

“Good.” She punctuates that with a massive yawn, then rolls away from her and pulls the sheets higher over her chest, mumbling, “Now I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed. All this deep talk made me tired.”

“Big mood,” Sailor replies, reaching over and flicking off the bedside lamp, the only light now coming from the occasional flash of lightning through the windows as she rolls comfortably onto her side, tucking her arm under the pillow. Silence settles over them, dark and calm and stretching for who knows how long before she says quietly, “Thanks, Kie.”

There’s no answer. Realizing she must’ve already nodded off, the redhead’s just about to crash herself when her friend’s reply softly cuts through the silence like a knife.

“You’re not the only one I did it for.”

Kiara doesn’t say anything after that and Sailor falls asleep wondering what, or rather who, exactly the other girl meant. 

~

let me know what you think! 

taglist ❤ (i added everyone who’s comments and reblogs made me smile so let me know if you don’t want to be tagged!) : @jiaraendgame @obxlife @sunflowerbecca @maysbanks @obx-adventures @mortifiedposts @sexualparkour​ @coltonparayyko​ @heavensalreadyheres​

[ask-the-crimson-king]

Tales from D&D: The Campfire Song Song

[It is I, your friendly neighborhood Hermit back with another tale from D&D. And this one is... Certainly a saga. LONG POST AHOY.

IT IS ONCE AGAIN FROM MY CURSE OF STRAHD CAMPAIGN! The characters, in brief, are:

AETERNUS -- Goliath wild soul barbarian, played more like a golem than a goliath. Stoic, remembers almost nothing of his past. ARAZEL -- Blood angel (aasimar x tiefling hybrid) bard, has a patron because he used to be a Warlock and the player wanted to keep the patron. Very much a Bard. Has tamed a fucking dire wolf who is now named Boris. He is a good boy. LEON -- Human time domain cleric, worships a god of time called Tempus. Old retired soldier sent out into the world because his god has plans for him. CALEB -- Vampire desperado gunslinger, a vampire hunter who wants revenge against the creatures who turned him and killed his family. 

In the last session, the players had made it to the Old Bonegrinder and met the three hags living there. Thanks to a Fifth Nat 1, the hags became hostile because Arazel mentioned how he had a pet dire wolf and the hags thought he was sent by Strahd. 

I told them at the beginning of this one,  “If you can talk your way out of this encounter, I’ll let you level up right now instead of waiting for Friday.”

What the fuck happens right after I say that?

Arazel fucking crits on persuasion and the party is now LEVEL FOUR! HURRAY!

Caleb is dealing with the two sisters upstairs, his gun is mentioned, and then Arazel’s player says, and I quote,

Arazel had also purchased a pastry, and Aeternus ends up charging upstairs and Arazel turns to him and says, "Hey Pebbles, eat this okay?" Aeternus made the con save, so instead of having weird dream visions, he instead felt this weird sense of nostalgia that he cant place his finger on. Seeing the cakes were safe, the rest of the party all pay for a cake themselves and they all. fail. the save.

So they get to fall into a pleasant, dreamlike state, for 1d4+4 hours... and OF COURSE I roll a 4. So eight hours of them being in this trance. Arazel, Leon, and Caleb, all conked the hell out. Which meant Aeternus was alone with this Night Hag who was now cackling. 

And so he asked the witch what was in the cakes, and she simply said “some very rare and exotic ingredients. it is an acquired taste.” aeternus then took many hints, scooped everyone up, and left with Ismark (Kolyana and Ireena were waiting outside in a cart, not trusting that place one bit, but Ismark went in to help guard the party and keep an eye on Caleb.) 

They run back to the cart and Kolyana is asking what happened. Aeternus explains the situation with the cakes, and Kolyana then facepalms. He says,

"You didn't eat any, did you?" "I did, why?" "Those are dream cakes. they're popular in Vallaki -- you'll see why." "I do not dream." "Everyone dreams, my boy. daydreams, plans for the future, or-" "I have nothing to dream about."  The cart goes quiet before Ismark speaks up. "What do you mean?" Aeternus then says, "I remember nothing but war from my past." "A miserable existence, then." "Heh, makes you sound like a barovian," Kolyana says with a snicker. "We're all miserable bastards." 

More silence. 

"You really don't remember anything?" Ismark then asks. "Nothing but war." Aeternus shakes his head. "How old are you?" "... I do not know. I have been wandering for some time, but I know I am quite old." "I don’t remember any wars in our recent history. You don’t seem to be old enough for any of those." "Definitely not," Kolyana agrees. The cart is silent, and Aeternus goes quiet.

Hours pass, and the cart is pulled off to the side of the road. Ireena and Valerie, a Vistana woman they had met, (who owned the cart), go off to build a fire, while the rest stay back in order to wait for the others to come out of their trances. 

When they do awaken, the world is darker. More grim, more miserable. The mists seem to cling to them, and they long to be back in their dreams.

Arazel awakes with a start, drawing out his magic string and wrapping it around Leon's neck while a thin knife hovers at Caleb's throat. Kolyana, Ismark, and Aeternus all stand to try and apprehend him as he asks, "What the HELL happened to me?" "You were dreaming," Aeternus tells him. "We didn’t do anything to you." "Put the weapons away, you're around friends here," Ismark says, his sword half out of its sheath. Slowly, Arazel backs down, checking his wings to see if any feathers are out of place. Boris looks up at him expectantly, and Arazel takes him to the fire as the rest of the party files out of the cart.

They all go and head down to the fireplace, and enjoy a nice thick stew. Some of the vegetables are freshly picked from the lands around them, although they are thick mountain-dwelling plants. They are a bit higher up in elevation, though more surrounded by foothills instead of mountains. 

They enjoy their dinner and Kolyana asks them what they saw in their visions. Leon goes first, recalling his home. recalling the people he loved, the community fostered, everything. It felt warm. It felt safe. But that wasn't here anymore. Kolyana gave him a small reassuring pat on the shoulder before Arazel spoke up.

"I saw my mother." "Your mother?" Aeternus asks. "Okay, well, here's the thing. My mother was this holy angel, and my father was a damned and hated tiefling. And my father kinda dipped on me when i was younger. My mother served a very holy god who didn't want to be sullied with such a sinful abomination," he then gestures to himself, "and so my mum had to leave me." "Wait, wait, your mom left you because her god said so?" Caleb asks. "Well yeah but I mean I get it. if she didn't then she would've lost her powers, and-" "That’s pretty selfish of her." Caleb shrugs. "sorry, man." "Not really. I’m sure any parent would do that." "I can tell you, as a father myself, I would never do that to my children. No matter who the god was. I'm sorry you had to go through that," Kolyana tells him, giving Arazel a meaningful look.

“And what about you, vampire?” the old man asks. “What did you see?”

"I saw my home. I saw the old homestead. I saw my parents, and my siblings. It was nice." Before Kolyana responds, a conspiracy of ravens descends from the sky. one lands on each of Aeternus' shoulders, cawing.  The three Barovians all gasp. 

"What fantastic luck," Kolyana mutters. Arazel is tempted to have Boris pounce on them, but Kolyana quickly says "DO NOT ATTACK THEM! That would bring nothing but doom and misfortune. Ravens are symbols of good luck, not evil. At least not here." 

Arazel shrugs, and tosses a piece of his stew at them. They caw and hop off the giant's shoulders, peck at the food, then flutter off into the night. The party all decides to settle in for the night, and this comes my FAVORITE fucking part of the session;

Dream Chats with Strahd!

(Yes I’m bending the lore a bit but it’s for the rule of cool okay)

I bring each of the players into the Special Corner (Discord call, we have a D&D voice chat and then Special Corner for 1-on-1 with the DM) one by one.

First in was Arazel.

Arazel feels the presence of his patron. He feels a warm, golden glow about him, even if he cannot visualize Sanguinius himself. He soon finds himself within a hall. It seems to be that of a cathedral. Polished stone, nearly gleaming, is under his feet. But everything feels... a bit fuzzed out. Just barely out of focus. He sees a lectern at the end of this great hall, with, what 40k fans would recognize, as the BA symbol, inscribed into it.

And then he hears a very familiar voice, and sees a very familiar figure walk out from behind a pillar.

Familiar dark clothing, familiar face, familiar dark eyes. 

It is Strahd von Zarovich, and he has come for a chat. 

And he doesnt greet arazel with hostility. He says that he is impressed with this place of worship, and that he knows very little about Arazel’s patron. But he would love to learn more about him, and about Arazel himself. Arazel asks “why are you here?”

Strahd takes a sip from his glass before he says, “You and your compatriots all fascinate me. So I want to learn just a little more about you. How you think, what your morality is." He shrugs, and then explains that he does not have too much time to speak. An invitation will be given -- soon, though he does not know when -- and tells him it is within Arazel’s best interests to accept it. He wants to be able to have an open, honest chat with him and his friends.

He also asks that he does not discuss this meeting with anyone. A measure of trust. Arazel agrees, and Strahd disappears.

Next up, Caleb.

Caleb is dreaming of his homestead. He feels grass beneath his feet, but none of his family is here. Everything around him feels fuzzy, blurry. The only crisp image is of the homestead itself. Strahd appears to him as well, coming out of the homestead, and says similar things to what he told Arazel, namely the reason for his arrival and his interest in him and his friends. However, he also remarks on how similar the two of them are, referring to their shared vampiric nature. Caleb says,

"Actually we're probably very different. I think we became who we are through very different ways." 

Strahd agrees, but he offers a solution to Caleb's little bloodthirst-issue, (which luckily has been able to be curbed thanks to Leon being generous), and potentially knowledge about his abilities. Caleb recently gained the ability to be able to shift into bat form, and he thinks he may have other skills locked away.

An invitation is mentioned, along with the same condition. He cannot tell anyone of this meeting.

Caleb, begrudgingly, agrees. Strahd vanishes once more. Interestingly, Strahd does not mention how one of Caleb’s current goals is to go into van Richten’s tower to find the old hunter in order to find a way to kill Strahd. 

But we’ll get to that.

Then we go to Leon.

Leon appears within an old library. The books around him are nothing more than vague shapes, and there is a musty smell from the bookshelves. Ahead of him is a strange device, a piece of machinery made of many different concentric rings, which he realizes must represent the different planes of reality. It slowly moves, casting around shadows as an unknown light source dances around the room. This is a representation of how Tempus views reality and its many potential timelines, he realizes. Just a very, very simple model, but it resembles the one from his own church. 

Enter Strahd, a warm smile on his face.

“I’ve been waiting to speak with you for some time. You and I have much to discuss.”

Leon asks why he is here, and Strahd explains what he had told Caleb and Arazel -- though he also adds he wants to learn a little more about him, here and now. He wants to also extend the offer for Leon to learn more about Strahd himself in a sort of private talk, and expresses interest in learning more about Tempus and Leon's nature and relationship. He asks Leon to tell him a few things, and Leon agrees to tell him a bit about his past -- his life as a soldier, the village he had settled within, how he found Tempus, that sort of stuff. 

Then Leon cuts right to the point, saying, "Why are you really asking me this? I don’t like to associate with bad people."

"Well I wouldn’t call myself bad. I have made my mistakes, and I am no saint, but I’m not a horrible person." Strahd shrugs. "I ask because I’m fascinated by you. By all of you, honestly. You're quite the interesting little crew."

He mentions the invitation, but also gives a different message.

"I know Caleb is going to be going to van Richten's tower. I want you to stay behind in Vallaki when he does. I will send my invitation then. Our conversation will be a little more... private, for lack of a better term, then the one I shall have with all of you."

He gives the same terms -- that Leon cannot tell anyone of this meeting -- which Leon agrees to, and Strahd disappears once more.

Last but not least...

Aeternus.

Aeternus doesn't dream, but his mind does come to a daydreaming-state. He comes to one of the few scenes he remembers. A field, with the rubble of a broken house nearby. Nothing else is clear, or even blurred. It feels like he’s standing on the edge of a vast void.

Strahd appears once more, commenting on how grim this place was. Aeternus is on edge at the appearance of the vampire, but simply replies, "this is all I can remember."

"Oh, I know. All you remember is warfare. But even then, of no clear battle. Just fragments of death and misery. A shame, really." Strahd sighs. "I know of a way for you to begin remembering all you had lost. My libraries may hold some of the answers you seek, as do I."

Aeternus is quiet. Before he speaks, strahd smiles. 

"Petting that wolf made you remember something, didn't it? And the cake you ate? You remember something about a raven, too."

Aeternus is caught way off guard. Strahd has, somehow (rule of cool and plot reasons) gotten into his head. He goes on guard, but Strahd puts his hands up. 

"I can offer answers. I will be sending an invitation, soon. I do not know when. But I need to be able to trust you. Tell no one of this encounter." 

"How can i be able to trust you?" Aeternus responds with a grunt. One hand is on his axe. Strahd chuckles. "Caleb wants to go to van Richten's tower. Go with him. There is something waiting for you there." 

And then he disappears, and that is where the session ended.

[reddeadrevival]

The gang helping you through a depressive episode

Javier would play for you

He’d have you sit down by the fire and tell you to close your eyes

“No thinking, just focus on what you hear”

You close your eyes and hear him begin to play

A gentle calming melody

You hear the fire crackle and pop in front of you

You feel the heat radiating from it, warming your whole body

The sounds of crickets and maybe even an owl hooting

The wind as it blows softly through the trees

You feel safe, each strum of the guitar pulling you further from those bad thoughts and feelings

and closer to the feelings coming from those strings

Mary-Beth would read to you

You’d sit beside her in the grass, Away from everyone else

She too would tell you to close your eyes

“No thinkin’, just try to picture what you hear in your head”

You do as she asks

As she starts to read, Giving voices to each character, 

You imagine it all in your mind

No more negative thoughts

There are no thoughts at all

You forget the world around you and are instead transported into hers

Tilly would distract you by teaching you every way to play dominoes

she would teach you until you were basically a master at it

she would pull your mind away from bad thoughts and nagging feelings

and instead replace them with strategy, logical thinking and friendly competition

the two of you would laugh as you complained about Miss Grimshaw or Pearson’s stew

you would forget all about whatever had been worrying you in the first place

Kieran would distract you the best way he knew how, with horses

brushing the horses while being repetitive and a bit tiring was a very calming task

the soft sounds of the bristles sliding through the horses’ hair 

the warm softness of the finished result

the horses nuzzling the man who always snuck them sugarcubes making him laugh

a sweet gentle sound that could bring a smile to anyone’s face 

He’ll show you how to feed them

you’re so focused on them that any and all other thoughts are gone

replaced with the feeling of happiness at the large gentle giant eating from your hand

Pearson would teach you to cook

he’d pull out a huge recipe book 

and let you pick out something you wanted to make

if you can’t decide, he picks something he knows you’ll like 

he shows you how to prepare everything, what to cut and how

it makes you smile seeing how happy he is to be teaching someone

he’ll tell you a few navy stories which helps to bring you out of your own head

the sounds and smells draw you more into the process

the sound of him chopping a carrot or peeling a potato

the sound of the bubbling stew or the smell of everything put together

excitement for the finished dish replace any and all other things you’d been anxious about

Jack teaches you to make flower chains

he’ll bring you to pick flowers 

telling you to pick your favorite colors

you’ll spend the day weaving the stems

feeling the petals between your fingers

smelling the sweet fragrance as you work

you make enough for everyone

the excitement he has as you hand them out

and the smiles on everyone’s faces throughout camp, brings a warmth to your heart that melts away any numbness lingering

Miss Grimshaw will brush your hair

you’ll be excused from all chores

she devotes her full attention to you

the feeling of the brush on your scalp

the tingle as it runs through your hair

she works out any kinks and knots

as gently as she can

you end up closing your eyes without her telling you to, you let any thoughts drift from your mind

and just enjoy the relaxing feeling washing over you

the love and comfort coming from the woman fill you

leaving no room for bad thoughts or negative feelings

Arthur would teach you to draw

or let you watch him as he drew something of your choice

his voice would be soft and comforting as he instructed you

guided your hand when needed

the soft sounds of pencil scratching paper

the look of concentration on his face

when it’s finished he frames it for you

he asks if he can keep your drawing

you’ll see it on the table by his bed

the proud smile

words of encouragement to replace the bad ones in your mind

Charles takes you stargazing

you lay in the grass, side by side

you can feel the comforting heat of his body beside you

his smooth calm voice relaxes you without effort

he points out constellations

tells you stories about them

stories his mother used to tell him

you’re pulled from your own mind to join him as he floats through the stars, far away from any worries or pain

Sean teaches you how to wood carve

he finds you the best piece of wood he can

sharpens the little knife for you

shows you how to hold the wood and the knife so you don’t get hurt

guides your hands at times

more jokes than instructions but you don’t mind

you feel the smooth and roughness of the wood

hear the swift scraping sound each time a piece is carved away

you’re so focused on turning this wooden shape into an animal

you don’t notice the creature in your mind being silenced, being pushed further  away with every joke he cracks

Karen will sing to you

she’ll teach you her favorite songs and sing them with you

the happiness on her face, her voice, drowns out any sadness in yours

replaces the bad words in your mind with the ones she sings

Hosea will take you fishing

he’ll pack a lunch for the two of you, find a boat, and the two of you will row out

out to where any and all distractions are nowhere to be seen

the gentle sounds of the water each time the paddles hit the water

the soft splashes from nearby fish jumping out of the water

He tells you stories about him and Dutch, or him and Bessie, stories about John and Arthur that make you laugh

You’re so caught up in the stories that neither of you catch a single fish

you enjoy the nice weather together, the sun on your face, that feeling replacing any others

------------------------------------

So that’s all I got for this. I wrote this after having my own...thing. @nocturnofshadow sent me a video of guitar and a campfire which helped me calm down but also made me think “man, Javier playing his guitar WOULD help me” so I wrote these. 

Even when you think you’re alone, what your feeling is overwhelming and tearing you down, there will always be someone there to help you through it. You will survive this.

Thank you so much to @nocturnofshadow @pink-skye713 @somethinwickedthiswayrides and @edenscryptid for reaching out to me when I really needed it. Depression can sometimes get really hard but knowing I have people I can turn to lifts a huge weight off my heart. Thank you. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

(Master List)

[toledoendo]

Resetting the Bone- Part Four

Trigger warnings: self-harm, anxiety, shame

The outing happened just like it was planned. The lemon grove was quiet and fragrant. Peter climbed into the tree and tossed down lemon after lemon for Morgan. She was in bliss. Seeing her laugh made him feel lighter. With a quick look back toward the grove’s entrance, Peter webbed two sides of a large basket sitting by the trunk of the tree he had climbed.

Morgan instantly recognized this game. She giggled and scrunched up her nose in glee. He had made her web swings everywhere— the trees at home, the porch, and her room on rainy days. “Happy, push me!” She scrambled in the basket.

Happy tossed up a fretful glower at Peter. His eyebrows seemed to demand, Are you serious? What if someone sees? But, he moved toward the basket where Morgan was asking him to hurry.

Peter’s grin answered back, You worry too much. He pulled the basket up until it was a couple feet from the ground. The strain on his left arm’s muscles caused it to burn. He felt one of the plasters pop slightly. Peter ignored it. He hitched the two web ropes to the branch.

Happy began to push the basket. Morgan smiled. “Push me so I can touch the leaves!”

“How about just a normal height?” Happy tried to reason.

Peter used this moment to breathe. He dropped from the branch, on the other side of the trunk from Morgan and Happy then sat down on his ankles. A sting to the top of his thigh reminded him that he had brought a blade; it was in his pocket.

It was a refill razor for a multi-purpose tool. In a panic, after he handed over his knife to Tony, Peter had snuck into Tony’s workshop. He took the tool apart and pocketed the blade. He just wanted to have it with him; he wouldn’t use it, he told himself.

They ate lunch in the grass, Happy grumbling about his knees. Their heaping baskets were beside them. Happy suggested only taking one enormous basket home for lemonade but Morgan had definitely inherited Tony’s extravagance. She had a plan for a lemonade empire, apparently. The trunk on the way home was weighed down by 50 lbs of lemons.

Back at the lakehouse, Tony managed to steer the kids away from the kitchen. “You’re never going to believe what’s outside in our yard.” He hooked Morgan instantly. Peter followed as Tony led them around the side of the house. He revealed the lemonade stand he’d built. It was gorgeous and just needed a paint job. Morgan eagerly set to work. Peter assumed that Pepper was cutting the lemons while they were occupied.

“What colors are you thinking, boss?” Tony asked Morgan.

“Mommy Blue,” Morgan began to list colors by the names she’d had for them since she was younger. “Daddy Gold, and Peter Red.”

Peter smiled. He didn’t know she still called them that. Morgan had associated colors with the people in her life when she was learning them as a toddler. Somehow, years later, when Peter entered her life, she revived those names and gave him the color red. He had a place with her; she wanted him to belong.

Heading the old name, Peter again felt dear to his little sister.

Eventually, colors had dropped the assignments she’d given them. For example, “Uncle Rhodey Purple” had become just “purple” (much to Uncle Rhodey’s disappointment, despite that he’d always encouraged silver as an alternative.) “Uncle Bruce Green” became just “green” (much to Uncle Bruce’s relief.) But blue, red, and gold still belonged to her mommy, daddy, and to him.

“Order received,” Tony said, turning toward the garage. He murmured to Peter as he left, “Gonna be a hell of a lemonade stand.”

“Where do you think she gets it?” Peter grinned.

It was truly a hell of a lemonade stand. Tony had to return to the garage after Morgan schooled him on the difference between gold and yellow. Morgan asked Peter a million questions as they painted. “Does Ned still build LEGO models? Would he come with you next time and could you help me with my Minecraft world? I got the Ocean Hideout. Daddy said if he stepped on another LEGO brick he wouldn’t build them anymore… Is Aunt May’s new magazine about architecture or technology or business or… fashion? Does she have all the same writers or new ones each time? Who draws the pictures for her magazine? In college, do you have music class? I have music class. It’s my favorite other than Math and recess.”

Peter realized this was the most uninterrupted time he had given her in two months. He worked to answer all of her questions without exasperation. He didn’t want her to give up on him.

When the first coat was done, Pepper called from the porch. It was time to start squeezing the lemons. Morgan quickly abandoned the paintbrush.

“Come on, Pete!” She said.

Honestly, Peter was ready for a break. Her energy could be tiring as well as infectious, he’d long since discovered. “I’ll finish painting the stand and be right in,” he said.

Pepper swept Morgan inside before sending him an encouraging look. She was saying he should take his time. Then they were gone.

The breeze picked up, and though it wasn’t as present as it had been in the grove with the well-trimmed lines of lemon trees, Peter welcomed every touch. It faintly reminded him of coursing through currents of air, a living physics puzzle in his head, as he threw his entire body into surviving each swing or dive through Queens. He missed being Spider-Man in that moment.

Then he remembered the faces of people who had clung to him, reached for him, relied on him. Faces in the dark, faces in the smoke of burning buildings, faces hiding behind abusers. He was ignoring them. His lungs seemed to shrink. I’m not helping anybody, he remembered.

The faces were with him when he was fifteen. More and more walled him in every night. He didn’t want to scare May with them. Mr. Stark, although he had begun to check in more often after The Vulture, would only think less of him if he talked about all this… fear.

At first he tried to push away the faces; the pressure of their states as too much. He was burgeoning with it. It tested and stretched the boundaries of his skin until he had to let it escape. He sure the hell couldn’t escape it. So, he hid and let his secrets out in little punishments across his body.

Here he was with his teenage fear again. I should be able to handle this shit by now. Peter agonized. The faces found him again and he didn’t have anything for them. He tried to hide, cowering deeper into himself. He couldn’t imagine getting back to the place where he could face the responsibility again.

Out in the yard, a little farther away, Peter heard Tony humming. Peter scoffed and smiled. Tony didn’t hum. May hummed, sang — he loved catching her singing “Here Comes the Sun” which was her favorite. But, Tony didn’t hum. This was an invitation. Peter surprised himself a little when he stood and walked to Tony.

Tony was bent double, collecting discarded branches from the maples. He straightened when he heard Peter approach. Peter noticed the pained expression on Tony’s face and the muted cracks as his back hoisted his weight. Peter had a feeling reminiscent of seeing Tony‘s grey hair for the first time.

Tony gestured to the lemonade stand. “The stand is coming along. Makes me want to take a hundred pictures and post them on Pinterest. Get the InstaMoms talking.” He tossed the dead branches in the wheelbarrow.

“Why don’t you let me do that for you?” Peter said as if the argument had already started.

Tony snorted. “Oh-ho! Back for round two?”

Every time Peter offered to help Tony with anything around the lakehouse, Tony turned it into a competition. Peter pleaded. “Just let me do something for you. For once!”

Deaf to the plea, Tony marked off some perimeters with the finger of his right hand. “That’s your side, this side is mine.” He challenged Peter. “If you take any sticks from my side, we’re going to have words.”

“Would any of those words be: ‘Thank you for helping while I visit my chiropractor’?”

“Almost definitely not.”

They talked as they worked. Soon the wheelbarrow was full of sticks and the yard was clear. “I accidentally used Morgan’s strawberry toothpaste last night,” Peter said. He shook his head. “I’m never going back to cool mint.”

A few times the flat blade in his pocket poked his thigh and Peter’s thoughts sank. He wished he could dispose of it, lose it on the ground, but he bit back the thought. Tony spoke to him and he laughed; how could this feel so natural?

“Pepper cut me off of the bubble gum mouthwash.” Tony said. “The older you get, the more people expect you to suffer.”

Morgan bounded out of the back door. Immediately, she squealed. “Are we going to have a campfire tonight?”

“Oops.” Tony said from one side of his mouth. Then he caught her as she leapt at him. “I don’t know… You’ve already done one fun thing today. We have a one-fun-thing a day limit, you know.”

Morgan dismissed this instantly. “Pete, do you want to have a campfire?”

Peter shrugged. “I have to catch my bus at 5:00, Mo. Sorry!”

Morgan stared at him, clearly not seeing the problem. “The bus can wait.” She smiled at her problem-solving skills.

“That’s not how busses work, Mo,” Peter said. To divert any more disappointment, he added: “Is it time to make the lemonade?”

Morgan smiled again. “Yep! We squeezed lemon juice from 50 lemons! Now we need sugar and water and mint and ice cubes…”

Peter let Morgan lead him inside. As they went, Tony caught his eye. He mouthed: “Fifty lemons?”

Peter returned his own mimed words: “She is your daughter!” before the back porch door closed.

[mistiedwagonfyre]

M(erry) Monday: Just Some Get to Know You Stuff...

So I got these from moonysmind so I should probably @ them... 

@moonysmind-blog

Ok, let's get this party started! 

1. Do you prefer writing with black or blue pen?

Blue if I'm writing something, black if I'm outlining a paper. But overall, black pens are my go-to just because I have more of them. I seriously need to stock up on blue pens... Also, who uses a red pen for anything other than corrections just because that's the way they've been taught? 

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or the city?

The Country. Or somewhere in the middle. I just feel like I'd be able to manage less people over more people and get to know them more personally. And, let's be honest, the country has gorgeous skies and sprawling fields and meadows. And it feels like you could take a deep breath and just absorb the atmosphere. 

3. If you could learn a new skill, what would it be?

Balance. It would help in everything because yours truly is a ball of clumsy fluff.

4. Do you drink your tea or coffee with sugar?

Heh, I drink hot chocolate with marshmallows so...

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

Anything I could get my hands on. I. Love. Books. My favorite series as a kindergartener was the Magic Tree House tho.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

Depends on my mood. Baths are for when I've got tons of time to just relax  and get my mind off things and showers remind me of rain and I love them too. I take showers more often but that doesn't mean anything.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which would you choose?

This is a hard one cuz I love all things mystical and magical... 

My immediate thought was a dragon but they get killed a lot in the myths and they're almost always stuck guarding something. Then I was like, ok then. What about a phoenix? So ya, I'd be a phoenix. Don't get me wrong, I'd totally go with all the mythical creatures and just cycle through them all, just if I had to choose just one it'd be a phoenix. Maybe, since I'd technically live forever, I could meet every single mythical creature ever. That'd be pwetty cool...

8. Do you prefer reading paper or electronic books?

Paper. It's what I've grown up with. I know, classy me. Also, there is nothing quite like the smell of a new book. Just sayin'.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

Punny t-shirts. All I'm gonna say.

10. Do you like your name? Would you ever change it?

Yes. If I had to change it, I'd love to be Reyna or Luna. Otherwise, I'm keeping it.

11. Who is a mentor to you?

Mostly myself. I taught myself to draw, anyhow. If not me, my mom or my newest art teacher or my neighbor. 

12. Would you ever want to be famous? If so, what for?

Yes and no. I want to inspire people (whether with art or my quirky personality) but don't want the pressure that popularity and fame brings. 

13. Are you a restless sleeper? 

If being a night owl counts as restless, then yes. If being a deep sleeper when I am actually asleep doesn't, then no.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic?

Considering I like guys who are chivalrous and funny... yes?

15. Which element best represents you?

Water. I'm chill until all my suppressed emotions rush out. You can't hold back the ocean forever. And you can't prevent the inevitable: Me being weird. Just ask my sister, she thinks I'm insane (which is probably accurate). Also, I may seem shallow on the surface, but I can actually be very deep sometimes. I could go on and on about my relationship with water, but that's a tale for another time.

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

Everyone. I love strengthening relationships with people. It makes the group stronger as a whole.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

Always.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

I'd love too, but then storyteller Mistie will appear and this list will become infinitely longer. You'll have to ask me in my questions tab if you really want to hear one. 

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

Can't decide which is weirder: Watermelon with taco seasoning or raw onion with mustard... Both are equally delicious in the summertime at a BBQ.

20. What can you see outside your bedroom window?

A ladder, some rocks, and a dead vole. My old room had a much better view... 

21. What are you most thankful for?

My Savior

22. Do you like spicy food?

Not particularly, no. 

23. Have you ever met someone famous?

Alex Boyé. He went to a really unsanitary restaurant before he came to our house one time and puked all over our newly waxed floors. I feel bad for him. Everyone but him knew not to eat at that runofthemill A&W on the way up. He still put on a mini concert for us tho and that was pretty considerate of him, because he did it even though he can't have felt like doing it.

24. Do you keep a diary or journal?

Yup. I've got entries from back in kindergarten, amazingly. Granted, back then I wrote in pictures.

25. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

Pencil. I'm human, I make mistakes.

26. What is your star sign?

Well, I was a Pisces. But then they discovered that there are more stars in the sky, just like there are more fishes in the sea, and just bunched a bunch of Pisces together so now I'm Aquarius. I'm still a Pisces at heart tho.

27. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy?

Crunchy. Better texture. Soggy cereal is oatmeal in my mind and if you want oatmeal, you actually make oatmeal, not let your cereal sit out for who knows how long. 

28. What would you want your legacy to be?

Legacy is a tricky thing. You've gotta know what people are gonna think of you down the line. I want mine to be simple: she wasn't afraid of who she was and what others would think of that. She was herself, and that's all that matters. I feel like that's the best legacy I could have for the future generations who will grow up in a world of trial and tribulation.

29. Do you like reading? What was the last thing you read?

ABSOLUTELY! I just finished Lodestar from Keeper of the Lost Cities. I shoulda read these books years ago but they're still fan-freaking-tastic! 

30. How do you show someone you love them?

I guess my love language is acts of service or whatever. So I'd probably serve them and do tons of sweet things for them. 

31. Do you like ice in your drinks?

No, it makes it all watery. Blegh.

32. What are you afraid of?

Lots of things. I just only realize when they come along and forget what they are afterwards. Sure, it may seem nice, but it makes the terror of coming into contact with them once more infinitely more terrorizing. But bugs are extremely horrifying. And so are arachnids.

33. What is your favourite scent?

Rain with freshly mowed grass and newly printed books at a campfire with Smores by the seashore. No one will ever be able to create this magnificent scent. 

34. Do you address older people by their first or last name?

Depends on how close we are.

35. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

Does this mean that everything is free? Well I'm gonna stockpile food and stuff and then ship them off to 3rd world countries. I'd try to save as many lives as possible. Or I could go there in person to deliver said goods... Yup. I've decided that that's what I'm gonna do!

36. Do you prefer swimming in pools or in the ocean?

Pools have a veil of safety but the ocean is much more beautiful and alive. Also, the smell of chlorine is gross. And the taste. Blegh.

37. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground?

If it looks old and worn and dirty like it's been there a while, imma take it. Chances are whoever lost it has been long gone so I can actually take that $50 w/o feeling guilty. Otherwise I'd leave it there.

38. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish?

Heh, I used to wish on airplanes, satellites, and planets because I thought they were 'special stars'.

39. What is one thing you would want to teach your children?

To be kind, even when it is inconvenient. I don't know how many times someone has held the door open for me even when it seemed much more convenient for them to just go inside where it is warm and just let me open the stupid door on my own. 

Maybe I'd teach them that even the smallest acts can have the biggest impact. One of the two. Probably both.

40. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

Heh, you're talkin' to the girl who doesn't want her ears pierced. No way in heck am I getting a tattoo.

41. What can you hear right now?

Music and the sound of my thoughts.

42. Where do you feel the safest?

In a book.

43. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

Darkness and fear.

44. If you could travel back to any era, which would you choose?

The one with Michelangelo, Leonardo, and all those other guys that the ninja turtles were named after.

45. What is your most used emoji?

It's not even an emoji. It is literally XD. Either that or (^^) 

46. What is your favourite season? Why?

Torn between winter (snow), spring (life coming into bloom), and fall (all the pwetty colors).

47. How would you spend your ideal day?

On a window seat during a thunderstorm either sketching or reading a book all wrapped up in a blanket. Preferably with a cat. Sipping warm apple cider or hot chocolate with marshmallows.

48. Describe yourself using one word.

Me.

49. What do you regret the most?

Not realizing certain things sooner.

50. Invent your own word. What does it mean?

Crushyblushy (adj. n.)

The general mannerisms an individual enacts around people that they like (specifically in crush and/or love situations).

syn: awkward, quirky, shy, blushy

ant: confident, flirty, aplomb, able

[thetaekswoon]

DAY6 Jae| Camp Counselor AU

This isn’t a part 2, but I kind of want to make these camp counselor aus into a series or something I do for a lot of groups because it’s just so much fun to write, and I also have such strong roots back to my sleepaway camp from back in the day.  Shoutout to any ASITs if they’re reading this lol!

I hope this was what you wanted!

Jae:

CIT (Counselor in Training) Boys Cabin Leader

Jae prefers to spend more time with the older campers than the young ones, he likes that he can feel and act more like himself around them and joke around more freely, he doesn’t feel trapped acting only as their babysitter.

Not only that but Jae is definitely a camp favorite among all of the older campers because he is just so cool and funny and chill, unlike many of the other counselors who prefer to keep their relationship with the campers primarily professional, Jae makes friends with every camper he sees.

 and it’s not just him being friendly or anything, Jae honestly tries to become best friends with every camper.

, but it’s still something about the older campers that draws him to hang out with them the most.

Like during meals Jae always sits at the CIT’s table and eats with all of his CITs, joking around while almost all of the other counselors are sitting with each other on the other side of the dining hall, away from the campers while they can,

, and hanging out with the kids never seemed like a chore or a job to Jae because, well.... they’re people???  And if you actually take the time to listen and interact with them they’re actually really funny, like seriously some of these kids in the CIT program are only a year or two younger than some of the counselors, so treating them any differently than you would your counselor friends is just stupid to Jae.

  Like have you ever heard CITs Chenle and Renjun make fun of first year counselor Mark of the Red Fox cabin?  It’s freaking hilarious and gets Jae rolling on the ground practically sobbing every time.

Speaking of the CITs, Jae prefers being a CIT Leader over a normal counselor any day, and is so glad that he got the job because working with the CITs is so much cooler than working with the small campers because they’re cooler they already have been attending the camp for several years (it’s a requirement to be in the CIT program that you have been at camp for at least 3 years), so they know everything about the place through and through, even more so than some of the counselors,

, there is a working xbox in the CIT Lounge while the one in the staff lounge broke months ago and no one wants to go pay for a new one,

, the CITs get to participate in exciting and different events that the other campers aren’t allowed to.

For example, the CITs don’t really have a set schedule for the day like all the campers do, so what Jae and his CITs do changes everyday, and one day he’ll take them fishing in the lake, but the next they’ll be baking small blueberry tarts for the girl CITs,

 and finally the CITs are granted permission to leave camp grounds once a week for a day out,

, and the day outs are always so much fun because they travel to fun places like the zoo, amusement and water parks, and go out for dinner before heading back to camp.

Jae is ALWAYS playing his guitar.

In between courses Jae will be chilling with his guitar under the sun in the center of the camp’s big grass field, and campers will just start surrounding him and one thing leads to another and they’re all singing Wonderwall and it sounds awful because everyone is making a joke out of it, but still ahhh (such a head canon of mine tbh messing around and singing wonderwall with jae)

around the campfire during the evening activity,

and other times he’ll just sing his CIT boys a lullaby to help them fall asleep after a long day of cleaning out storage shed out by the lakefront.

Though Jae is basically always with his CITs, he also manages to teach one class a day for all of the campers....

Can you guess what it is?....

MUSIC AND GUITAR OBVIOUSLY!!!!

Every day at around 11 am, Jae greets his guitar class in the theater building (it has the best acoustics) and has everyone sit in a circle and play what they had been practicing for the last few days.

 tbh Jae’s guitar class was such a popular class for the campers to take because he was such a good teacher that the class became overcrowded and it became evident that he couldn’t have just one guitar class anymore

, so counselor Sanha stepped in and helps Jae teach, and runs his own guitar classes during time slots that Jae is busy with his CITs.

Jae’s counselor is very summer, very much dealing with the heat.

He is almost always wearing a tie-dyed shirt and beige shorts.  A rope necklace and these shorts are his iconic look.

sometimes he wears a bucket hat because the forecast suggested that the sun is going to be stronger than usual, and CIT Kyla laughs endlessly at his ears sticking out from the sides when he does this.

Big glasses accidentally reflect the sun into people’s eyes while he talks to them outside... whoops.

Overall, Jae is the sleepaway camp’s lovable dork counselor who plays the guitar and eats too much pizza.

, and you’re one of the CIT Leaders for the girls, and have known Jae ever since you both started to come to the camp when you were 5 and 6, and were in the Coyote and Hare cabins.

Way back then Leeteuk was still a counselor for the Coyote Cabin, but know he has made his way up the ranks to be one of the camp directors, and is your BOSS!

Anyway, you’ve known Jae and have been friends literally since before you learned your multiplications tables, and now here you are serving your favorite place on earth as CIT Leaders.

  You and Jae are both a little over the top when it comes to camp cheers and the such because well, you’ve both been there for so long, this place is like your home, if you guys wanna shout the words to BLACK SOCKS you will.

“BLACK SOCKS THEY NEVER GET DIRTY THE LONGER YOU WEAR THEM THE BLACKER THEY GET

SOMETIMES I THINK I SHOULD WASH THEM BUT SOMETHING INSIDE ME KEEPS SAYING NOT YET

NOT YET

NOT YET”

(repeat several more times each getting louder and faster and more aggressive until you literally can’t keep up anymore)

Sometimes in the middle of the night when everyone is supposed to be sleeping you’ll gather all of the CITs and tell ghost stories to them, that may actually leave poor little Jeno weeping and begging Chenle not to do that dolphin laugh because he keeps getting scared.

, anyway you and Jae are basically as close as friends can be to each other and sometimes campers joke around that you two are like a married couple because of it, but every time they something like that you two can’t help, but laugh because it just all sounds so ridiculous...

.... doesn’t it?

that is until the CIT day out comes around, and this week you are all going to the waterpark and then a fireworks show because the Fourth of July is right around the corner, and how fun would it be to go out and run around with sparklers and actually see some good fireworks for a change?  Instead of the short and cheap fireworks show that the camp prepares for all the kids during this time of the summer.

So, you guys load all of the CITs into the camp vans and drive off to the waterpark which is two hours away.

 arriving at the waterpark is a bunch of madness because you, Jae and the other CIT Leaders need to organize all of the tickets for everyone, and then it becomes a matter of checking everybody in, and finally you can all relax.

It wasn’t seeing Jae shirtless that finally did it for you, you had seen him shirtless hundreds of times before, after all you two do both work at a summer camp.

For whatever stupid reason, it was seeing him walk out of the boys changing room wearing his bright violet swimming shorts, a bucket hat, floaties on both arms, and crocs.

like what kind of person? you thought, only Jae, your cute best friend, and then suddenly you realized you just called your best friend cute in your head, but you didn’t mean like cute cute like puppy-dog or stupid cute, you meant cute in a like-like kind of way and you slap yourself on your head.

“Y/N have you gone mad hitting yourself again?” Jae asks, pretending to be concerned and act like a doctor, looking into your eyes and asking for you to stick out you tongue and say ahhh, “I’d say it might be mad cow disease, but we can’t be sure until the test results co-”

“Quit it dumbass, I just realized I forgot something back in the van.” you say, pretending to look through your bag for something.

“It wasn’t sunscreen was it?  I can already feel the sun pelting down onto me.”

you were lying when you said you forgot something in the van, but then you realize that you really did forget your sunscreen, that or it must have fallen out of your bag because it wasn’t there anymore.

You nod,

“Dammit Y/N, the park people won’t let you back in if you leave, don’t worry, I won’t let you burn.” Jae says, “I still got some left.”

turns out Jae’s sunscreen wasn’t a strong enough spf for you, so by the time you and the CITs leave the waterpark and arrive at the place where the fireworks show is happening your shoulders are burnt bright red.

Jae keeps apologizing to you all throughout the fireworks show, but you keep telling him that it wasn’t his fault, that you probably should have reapplied the lotion when your shoulders started to feel hot.

, and somehow, by the time that you get back to camp, Jae somehow convinces you to let him lend you some of the aloe that he has in his cabin.

And then he... puts it on your himself?

tbh it was cold and awkward and giggly, and felt kind of strangely intimate,

and Jae is blushing all over, 

because he has always seen you as his gorgeous best friend in the whole wide world, but he’s been wanting to see you as more than just that recently and now you’re letting him put his hands on you kinda and you’re so close that he can smell your hair which still smells of chlorine from the waterpark 

,,, and it a moment of boldness Jae announces that he is going to kiss you.

And you let him.

Dating Jae is almost exactly the same as before, except now theres a lot more cuddling, and skinship in general.

Jae always greets you in the mornings with a quick peck on the cheek (staff aren’t allowed to show any form of pda around the campers) and a surprisingly sweaty hug, like come on the heat hasn’t even kicked up yet Jae.

Whenever you two go out on solo dates into town on your day off, which is almost never on the same day because you are both working with the CITs and there are a very limited number of CIT staff, but when you do you always make the most out of it.

, going to restaurants downtown and being able to hold your hands in public

The teasing never seems to stop coming from CITs Guanlin and Somi, who figured out that you two were dating in a matter of minutes, and constantly need to exert the small amount of power that they have over you.

“Hey Y/N is that a MOSQUITO BITE on your NECK *gasp* ???!!?!”  They’ll shout at you when you walk into the lounge after your breaks,

“Or maybe it was a vampire considering how obvious it is by the mark that they were out for blood.  What do you think Jae?  Doesn’t Y/N look like they were just attacked by a vampire teehee?”

<><> do not edit/remove anything from the original post <><> this AU belongs to me <><>

[weshipyourride]

Looking Back at 2019: Our Favorite Moments

As the calendar year draws to a close and we give the BikeFlights.com vans' engines a few moments to cool, we're taking the time to reflect on some of our Outreach Team's highlights from the road. So grab a hot beverage of choice and join our West Coast, Mountain States and East Coast marketing managers around our proverbial campfire as each shares his favorite events of 2019.

Colin Blanchard, West Coast Marketing Manager

West Coast by Colin Blanchard

The Sea Otter Cycling Classic

Early in the season nothing beats the Sea Otter Cycling Classic. Getting to see so many people stoked on bikes after a long winter is a blessing. The weather in Monterey, California was amazing this year. Riding in short sleeves and shorts was something that I had been missing. 

This year was a mix of work and play. We had just rolled out our partnership with UPS, which meant that a lot of people came by to talk about the change.

The Sturdy Dirty Enduro

A new event for BikeFlights.com this year was The Sturdy Dirty in Issaquah, Washington which is a women’s specific enduro race.

This event stands out for me because of how amazing the people at the event are, along with the riding. Having lived in Washington previously, going there feels like home and the trails, albeit hard, are always welcoming.

They also had some of the best snacks on course!

North American Handmade Bicycle Show

With frequent travels from east to west, I end up driving though Sacramento, California quite often. Getting to know the small bike companies in that town has been such a joy. That friendship was made even better considering the North American Handmade Bicycle Show happened there. 

Considering BikeFlights.com works with so many small builders, we have gotten to know them personally very well over the years. Getting to see them all in one place doesn’t happen enough. Friends from Squid Bikes hosted some great pick-up races, which made the event even better.

The Downieville Classic

Downieville, California is one of my favorite places in the world. The mixture of the small town and epic riding is hard to match. BikeFlights.com has been working with the Sierra Buttes Trail Stewardship, who hosts the Downieville Classic, for the past two years.

So many riders travel from all over the country to race down these amazing trails, though I find the best part is hanging out with friends on rides. May it be taking a dip to cool off or sessioning some of the harder parts of their trails.

Single Speed Cyclocross Worlds

Similar to the Sea Otter Classic, getting away from the colder temperatures is always a joy. Which is one of the many reasons I loved going to the Single Speed Cyclocross World Championships in Saint George, Utah.

Though I do not own a cyclocross bike, that didn’t stop me from racing on my single speed dirt jumper. It wasn’t ideal for some of the course but it certainly made other parts more fun.

This year has been an amazing year of meeting new riders all across the West. I can’t wait to see what will happen next year!

Some photos provided by The Radavist and Angel Perez.

Michael Potter, Mountain Region Marketing Manager

Mountain Region by Michael Potter

Land Run 100

District Bicycles Owner and Land Run 100 Co-Promoter, Bobby Wintle puts on one hell of an event in Stillwater, Oklahoma. A two-day party of inclusion, motivation and celebration of all people. Before the ride, a block party is hosted leading into the event that features music, beer and an atmosphere unlike any other event I’ve attended this year.

If Land Run is not on your list - you’re missing out. This event guarantees a good day on the bike, regardless of weather. It is all worth it for that “welcome back hug.”

Leadville 100

The highest event on our calendar, this ride starts at over 10,000 feet of elevation in Leadville, Colorado. If the elevation doesn’t take your breath away, the views will. Considering this was my first endurance mountain bike race, I felt nervous going into the ride, but left with excitement for more.

The infamous belt buckle is the coveted prize for not only completing the course, but also meeting time goals. I rode away with the “big buckle!”

SBT GRVL

A first year event usually brings some uneasy feelings, considering the unknowns of the weekend. SBT GRVL in Steamboat Springs, Colorado clearly considered those unknowns and crushed the route, communication, amenities and execution.

This event has proved themselves already, but we have no doubt that their team has a few ideas up their sleeves to out-do their inaugural event. I look forward to challenging myself in Steamboat again in 2020.

Dirty Kanza

My experience at Dirty Kanza in Emporia, Kansas was rocky to say the least. Multiple flat tires with sidewall tears took me completely out of contention in the 100-mile edition. Though my bad luck here sidetracked my goals, I learned a lot this day.

I learned that the cycling community is generous and thriving. Maxxis provided me two new tires because they wanted to see me finish. They wouldn’t let me quit, and I’m thankful for that. Their tires brought me home, and the second half of my ride was such a great experience.

USAC CX Nationals

Despite Cyclocross Nationals taking place on the west coast in Tacoma, Washington, I was lucky enough to attend and race myself. MFG Cyclocross constructed and performed one of the best cyclocross courses and events I’ve been to in years.

We partied hard and hosted many friends throughout the week. We also enjoyed quality time among our team to bond and prepare for the new year ahead.

2019 was a big year. I attended 23 events in 11 different states while traveling nearly 25,000 miles through an additional seven states. I moved from North Carolina to Colorado and learned the balance of life on the road, maintaining a healthy marriage and found a renewed vigor for riding bikes of all kinds. I am so excited to see what 2020 has ahead.

Vince Camiolo, East Coast Marketing Manager

East Coast by Vince Camiolo

Santos Fat Tire Festival

Being based in the Northeast US, late February is about the time my tolerance for heading out on rides dressed like Randy from “A Christmas Story” reaches an all season low. This year was my third southbound trip to the Santos Fat Tire Festival in Ocala, Florida. The idea of a mountain bike festival in central Florida may evoke some side-eye glances, and for my inaugural Santos in 2017 I was simply excited by the prospect of winter riding bathed in warm sun on bare skin. However, the event itself and the Santos trails made the festival a highlight of my year independent of the escape from Philly winters, and 2019 was no different. The expo and demo-oriented festival is well organized, well attended and maintains a grass-roots feel. The organizers are friendly, helpful and go out of their way to make the vendors feel appreciated. And the food trucks are some of the best I’ve encountered at a cycling event.

The Santos trails, while not at all mountainous, are certainly unique, providing fast flow through dense green forests of sand pine and scrub oak draped in hanging moss. The area even offers the Vortex Freeride Area to ensure all levels and styles of mountain bikers are satisfied.

Dirt Rag Dirt Fest PA

While Santos Fat Tire Festival is technically the first mountain bike festival of the season, the Northeast has to wait a couple more months to officially open their season. And even then, as exemplified by the conditions at Dirt Fest PAs of the past, Pennsylvania weather in mid May can be unpredictable and far from ideal. Although Dirt Fest PA manages to be a great time despite the weather, 2019′s conditions propelled it to an easy choice for this 2019 event highlight list.

The sun stayed out, the sleeves stayed short, the wonderfully flowy Allegrippis trails stayed dry and camaraderie and celebration of mountain biking flourished.

 RAGBRAI

I probably don’t have to explain what the Register’s Annual Great Big Ride Across Iowa is, but it is challenging to convey the impressive scale of the event to someone who hasn’t witnessed it for themselves. Although the official rider number is sub-10,000, more accurate estimates generally hover north of 30,000. Needless to say BikeFlights.com is busy every July getting the bikes of many of those riders to and from the event. As the lone on-the-ground BikeFlights.com representative it’s also needless to say that my days around the start and end of RAGBRAI were also quite busy this year. Opportunities to eat and sleep during those days were at a major premium. But RAGBRAI makes this list for the time between the start and end during which -- in addition to catching up on sleep and resting my feet -- I got to explore opportunities Iowa offers in three of my favorite things: mountain biking, coffee and baseball. And it delivered on all three.

Iowa may not be on anyone’s short list as a premiere mountain biking destination, but the small trail systems maintained by local organizations that dot the state are impressive and a much appreciated reprieve from many hours of windshield time in the BikeFlights.com van.

It was also fun to see how the Iowa host towns embraced RAGBRAI.

JDRF Ride to Cure Diabetes La Crosse

Every year the Juvenile Diabetes Research Fund puts on at least five fundraising rides across the country. They’ve raised more than $47 million dollars for “research to deliver life-changing therapies and, one day, a cure for type 1 diabetes (T1D)” and we’re proud to be an integral partner in helping the ambitious fundraising cyclists get their bikes to and from each event.

The Mississippi River town of La Crosse, Wisconsin is traditionally the host of the first JDRF Ride event of the season. It’s a wonderful opportunity for me to connect in person with the organizers and bike team with whom I work closely all year, and spend some time in a great Midwest river town. Thanks to The Root Note for keeping me fueled with great coffee and vegan crepes on a daily basis!

Philly Bike Expo

Ok, it’s true I’m a born-and-raised-unapologetically-Philly-prideful-never-not-wearing-a-Phillies-hat kind of person, but I swear I’m not unfairly biased in declaring the Philly Bike Expo as one of the best events of the year. The volume and diversity of attendees, ranging from casual commuters to bike messengers to professional racers of all disciplines, makes it a no-brainer for vendors of all types. What really sets it apart, however, is the social dynamic coursing through the veins of the show. The big players are there, but it’s clear the small frame builders and makers run the show. Remember in high school when the punk kids had that party and the jocks finally realized they were cool and asked if they could come? Maybe not. But the Philly Bike Expo is kind of like that.

Philly Bike Expo was also an opportunity to bring star Support Team member and personified sunshine Marci out to meet BikeFlights.com customers old and future (and perform some bubble trumpet).

This year marked my third and, sad to say, final year on the road full-time for BikeFlights.com. It was another great year spreading the good word of BikeFlights.com and working with partner events ensuring their participants can conveniently get their bikes and gear to and from the event. And although I’ll continue with BikeFlights.com in a modified capacity, I’m looking forward to pursuing a dream, along with my wife Natalie, opening a coffee roastery and cafe in Trenton, New Jersey, One Up One Down Coffee. 

[midwesttiltking-blog]

14- Gone Away

This Chapter isn’t really about anything specific, just connecting the dots between big scenes, I think its still pretty important to include though. I hope you like it!

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Matt sat on the ground, legs crossed with a sketch pad occasionally looking up at Kevin. A speaker attached to an ipod sat between them blaring some abrasive tones.

We’re no saviours if we can’t save our brothers

We’re no saviours if we can’t save our brothers

Kevin was sprawled out on the ground staring toward the sky, his eyes red and cheeks moist.

As the track died down, before the next one started up Kevin filled the noise “He’ll never have a dad. He’ll never have a dad cause I’m a fuck up”

The next track picked up and the two were silent again. Kevin’s hand ran through the grass, pulling out strands and throwing them away. Nanook was still laying in the tent, his chin resting upon his arms. Whenever Kevin or Moon walked by he’d raise his head and let out a slight whimper then return to moping. Garrett and Moon were packing up the camp preparing for the day's travel. Moon dumped a bucket of water over the campfire while Garrett put away the utensils they had used for cooking last night.

“Are you sure that we should travel today?”

Garrett’s voice showed no sign of sympathy  “The apocalypse isn’t going to wait for his feelings, besides it has been three days now, you got over it didn’t you? It’s time for him to nut up”

Moon stopped and looked over at Matt and Kevin “Yeah but Kevin can be hard to handle when he’s like this”

“You don’t have to tell me, I delt with him when we were in high school”

Moon shook her head continuing on, picking up electronics that had been thrown about the campsite. A few of them permanently damaged others still left running from last night. Moon grabbed a tablet, her thumb inadvertently activating the screen. She looked at it for a second, then to Kevin, then back to the device. She matched the pattern after a few tries which she learned from watching over Kevin’s shoulder from time to time. A drawing appeared on the screen. The picture was very dark, a dead tree on the edge lit by the moon. In the center frame Kevin lay on the ground split in half, a cut beginning at his waist and crossing up to his shoulder. All of his surroundings shown a brilliant crimson red. On the left side of the picture a figure colored in all black stood holding Kevin’s sword. The edge of the blade still dripping with blood. The figure had no distinct clothing or marks and at parts of the black figure seemed to fade in and out with the background. Moon sighed and powered off the tablet, returning it to Kevin’s backpack.

“I should’ve paid more attention.” Kevin pounded his fist into his forehead “If I had listened to him, he would still be here.” The two continued on like this for most of the morning, Sometimes Kevin throwing his head back against the ground muttering words “Selfish” “Stupid” “Useless”

Matt reach out and turned off the ipod. “I finished my drawing”

“Took you long enough, I finished mine last night!” Kevin took the pad from Matt and scanned it over. Matt’s drawing was from a first person perspective, the cockpit of a space ship. A control panel was lit up in various places along with a screen showing a layout of the ship in all red, heavily damaged and missing both of its wings.The pilot wore black gloves and the rolled up sleeves of a white jacket ran along the bottom edge of the picture. The pilot’s right hand was still on a control stick, while his left was facing the observer, half closed with tears in the palm. outside the window of the spaceship, the canvas was consumed on all sides by fire and debris. In the center of the picture a small hole within the flames, the darkness of space. In the bottom corner of the glass a profile of another pilot was glowing. This pilot also wearing a white jacket, appeared to be a fox wearing sunglasses. Underneath his picture was a text log “Never give up trust your instincts… You’ve become so strong Fox”

Kevin sat up leaving his arms extended the picture revolving around him as he moved. “This is fucking incredible. I love the detail so much. I can’t believe you remembered he wore black gloves!” Matt crossed his arms and blew a piece of hair from his face. Kevin stood up, letting go of the pad to wipe his eyes. He put his arms around Matt and embraced him tightly. “I have to find Mel and tell her about how much of a hero Darrin was.” After a moment he let go of Matt and drew both of his swords. He walked back to the center of camp and addressed Moon and Garrett “I’m going to scout ahead, we should be able to reach Chicago today if we leave now.”

Moon walked up to him and put a hand on his chest “Are you ok to go alone”

Kevin smiled through his pained demeanor “Don’t worry, I just need to go work some things out”

He turned toward the road and began confidently marching ahead. Moon walked over to Matt and picked up the drawing pad, looking at the picture for a minute. “How did you know this would cheer him up?”

Garrett chimed in “Kevin loves Star Fox, probably just reminded him of the good old days”

Matt leaned over the picture looking at it with Moon “This is the first game where Kevin could pretend he had a father. He’s only in one level but those ten minutes are a religious experience to Kevin”

Moon looked at Matt in wonder, her cheeks blushing a little “You know so much about him.”

Garrett put his arm around Matt and shook him a little “Yeah, we’ve been best friends decades, and Matt here remembers everything.”

They finished packing up camp and followed the path Kevin had taken. After traveling about fifteen minutes down the road a gas station became visible from the highway. As they got closer to the establishment a human yell could be heard. Moon picked up the pace and began running toward the building. Zombie bodies littered the pumps and a few walkers could be seen inside the building. Suddenly an undead body flew through the glass crashing on the sidewalk. The body had been carved up with at least ten visible cuts. The roar of the human voice boomed through the opening. Moon entered the building to see a zombie pinned to the cigarette rack behind the counter with Kevin’s two blades. Kevin rose from behind the counter top holding a shotgun. He extended the weapon with one hand and fired turning the zombie’s head to mush. He cocked the gun and fired again. This continued until no part of the zombie remained intact. Moon stood in the doorway with her mouth covered as she watched the execution.

Garrett pushed past her and examined the scene. “Well done brother, I like what I’m seeing. Kevin turned attempting to point the gun at Garrett. Before he could set his aim, Garrett grabbed the barrel of the gun and squeezed, the metal slowly bending inward. “It’s alright they are gone now.” The gun shook as they both vied for control of it.

Kevin’s chest heaved in and out for a few seconds. Then he looked and saw everyone had caught up to him. He dropped the gun and faked a smile “What took you so long?”

“It didn’t take us long, I think you may have been running ahead a little too fast” Garrett combed the shelves picking out some candy and nuts to bring along with him.

Kevin brushed off some zombie remains, still trying to catch his breath “Well… the path is clear...you’re welcome”

Moon grabbed a pack of gummi bears and tossed them to Kevin “Thanks, you are a real hero, here is your reward”

Kevin opened the bag and dumped a few into his mouth, then tossed it back to Moon. He pulled out both of his swords and wiped them clean on the countertop before returning them to their sheaths. Garrett pat Kevin on the back as they crossed paths while Matt and Moon just stared at him. Entering back into the sunlight Kevin was met by the dismayed faces of Matt’s gang. Many of them shaking their head in disapproval or crossing their arms. Kevin looked over the crowd realizing the impression he was giving off. He corrected his stance straightening his back and puffing up his chest “I’ll never let you down again” he spoke calmly towards them. He didn’t wait for a response or look to see their reception turning to continue walking east. Before he could get very far a woman riding a bike became visible on the horizon. Nanook ran ahead to stand along side Kevin as the stranger approached.

She dismounted the bike quickly and drew a large hunting knife. “I heard gunshots, is anyone hurt?!”

“No. I was just cleaning up some filth in that gas station back there”

She relaxed and put the knife away. Covering her eyes from the sun she glanced behind him “Oh, nice none of us have travel this far west, so I’d guess most of the buildings here are probably still infected”

“Us?”

“Yeah, there is a band much like your own a few miles northwest of Chicago> The city proved too hard to defend so a group of us decided to take refuge outside of it.”

Kevin smiled a bit “Well I’m glad to hear at least some of you have made it. I intend to set your city free. Perhaps we can join forces”

“Set it free? Are you daft? Even with our forces combined well have maybe 800 people able to fight? There is no way we can do it.”

“You just gotta believe, and a well thought out battle plan helps too” Kevin put his thumb to his chest “And I happen to be a master class strategist, at least based on my results Fire Emblem.”

“Fire Emblem?”

“It’s an old video game, one of my favorites”

“Your gunna base your strategy off of a video game? You are even more loony than I thought”

Matt and Moon appeared from behind Kevin. Moon stepped between the scout and Kevin “You’d be surprised, he got us here alive so far, and if you can see, he just cleared that building on his own, maybe thirty on one”

Kevin nudged her with her elbow “pfft, more like a hundred on one”

The girl scanned across her new acquaintances for a few seconds “Well I spose it can’t hurt to hear your plan. I’ll take you to our camp and you can state your case.”

They continued on the path Matt’s gang following at a distance, Nanook leading the pack. Moon walked along side Kevin glancing at him from time to time. Matt and Garrett followed behind the scout, Matt’s hand never leaving the hilt of his blade. After a few miles they reached a small park which was covered in tents and the few houses outside of the park bustling with humans. The woman whistled and droves of civilians wandered out of their tents so come see the commotion. Some of the members from Matt’s gang reunited with long lost friends, others immediately began bartering for survival goods.  Kevin face was covered with a joyful grin as he marched into the park. The woman explained to some of the others equip for combat who Kevin was and the outline of his plan. Some of them burst out in laughter while others looked at Kevin suspiciously. Kevin took his stance, tall and straight, arms crossed, in the center of the park and waited for everyone to gather around him.