#not that I have a problem with gremlin chars

[cup1drul3z]

★ — All That's Left Between Us

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6 : ꜱʜɪᴛ ʜɪᴛ ᴛʜ��� ꜰᴀɴ

ꜰᴀʀᴍʜᴀɴᴅ!ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | 9.6ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

TAGS : Southern sevika, childhood bestfriends, Ex's to lovers, homophobia mentioned, internal hatred, cowboy sevika, farm owners daughter reader, size difference, breeding kink, fingering, dry humping

A/N : back 2 back chapters baby

Summary : Camp life brings you and Sevika closer, the tension finally breaking in a heated moment behind closed doors. But out in the woods, something feels off—like you're being watched. Between stolen touches and lingering unease, summer is starting to feel a lot more dangerous than expected.

Knock knock knock.

The sound came like a hammer to your skull—way too early, way too loud, and definitely not welcome.

You groaned softly, rolling toward Sevika, who was still half-wrapped around you like a human furnace. Her hand lazily slid down your thigh and then flopped uselessly against the mattress.

Another knock. Then a pause.

“Y/N?” Jinx’s voice drifted through the door—low, hesitant, not her usual chipper chaos. “I, uh… I need your help—”

Sevika groaned, long and guttural, and dragged a pillow over her face. “If that little gremlin wakes me up one more time, I’m teaching her what ‘camp quiet hours’ actually mean.”

But your eyes blinked open fully now. Because that tone? That wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t mischievous.

It was… nervous.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes and stumbling to the door in just a tank top and your shorts. You cracked it open, squinting at the already-too-bright morning sun.

Jinx stood there, hair frazzled worse than usual, camp shirt on backward, and her hands black with something that looked suspiciously like charred marshmallow—or maybe soot.

You blinked. “What did you do?”

“I—” Jinx looked over her shoulder, then back at you, eyes wide. “I fucked up breakfast.”

You opened the door fully, stepping out. “Like… how bad?”

Jinx didn’t even try to explain. She just turned and started speed-walking toward the mess hall.

“I just—I wanted to help! The other counselors were still asleep and Carol’s doing inventory, so I figured I could just, y’know, toast some stuff and reheat the eggs and maybe try the pancake batter—”

“Try?” you echoed. “Jinx, what happened?”

She stopped halfway down the path and turned to you, wild-eyed.

“There was a small fire. It’s out. Kinda. Mostly. But I broke the coffee machine and the pancake mix exploded and there’s glass in the oatmeal, maybe? I don't know, man!”

Sevika emerged from the cabin behind you, one boot half on and shirtless, rubbing at her face. “Why are we awake?” she muttered, voice thick with sleep.

Jinx threw her hands up. “Because I may have caused a localized camp crisis before 7 a.m.!”

You glanced at Sevika, who blinked at you once—expression deadpan.

“Your problem,” she muttered, and turned around, heading straight back to bed.

You sighed, looked down at your bare legs and messy tank top, and followed Jinx toward the chaos, muttering, “This is why we don’t let you near appliances…”

The closer you got, the stronger the smell hit you—burnt sugar, rubber, and eggs. A deadly combo.

Smoke trailed faintly out of the mess hall windows. One of the stoves was hissing. Something brown bubbled on the counter in a mug labeled “Camp Queen” and you were pretty sure it used to be cocoa.

Jinx pointed like a war criminal surveying the battlefield. “See?! I tried.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Go open a window. And maybe… find Carol.”

“Oh, she knows,” Jinx called as she ran off. “She screamed something about OSHA violations and left to get her clipboard!”

You looked around the room—scorched, sticky, barely salvageable—and sighed again.

Then you picked up a towel and started cleaning.

You stared down at the mess like it had personally wronged you.

The oatmeal was a lost cause—soggy, grey, and glittering faintly with shards of shattered measuring cup. The eggs were salvageable, if you squinted and added enough cheese. But the pancakes? They were still batter in a cracked bowl on the edge of the counter, looking sad and slightly runny.

You rolled your shoulders back, tugged your hair into a quick bun with the elastic around your wrist, and muttered, “Alright. Let’s fix this.”

You grabbed a clean pan, wiped it out with a dry towel, and cranked the heat. The pancake mix was too watery, so you added more flour—then remembered your bio mom’s trick.

You opened the spice rack, smiling at the dusty old tin of cinnamon and a half-used bottle of vanilla tucked behind a jar of paprika.

“Okay, okay…” you murmured, dumping a bit of cinnamon in, a little more vanilla, and—on impulse—a dash of nutmeg. The scent hit fast: warm, familiar, like Sunday mornings before your mom got sick, back when everything still smelled like syrup and laughter.

You ladled the new batter onto the hot skillet and held your breath.

The sizzle was promising.

Two minutes later, the pancake flipped perfectly—golden, fluffy, and smelling way better than anything deserved to smell at 7:15 a.m. in a smoke-scented mess hall.

Jinx returned just in time to see you plating a stack. “Ohhh shit,” she said, eyes wide. “That looks good.”

You smirked. “Here.”

You handed her a fork and she stabbed into the stack like a feral animal. One bite in, she stopped chewing, mouth full, face slowly turning red.

“Okay, wow. That’s—” she coughed once. “That’s got kick.”

You blinked. “It’s just cinnamon—”

“And nutmeg,” she wheezed, “and maybe the entire spice rack?! The kids are gonna think it’s like a cinnamon challenge!”

You stared at her. “It’s good, though, right?”

Jinx took another bite, chewed, and gave you a very shaky thumbs-up. “It’s... fire. Like literally. Like I might combust.”

You were about to argue when the worst thing possible happened.

The cowbell.

It clanged out front—Carol’s signature wake-up-call-and-breakfast-summons. Seconds later, the sound of pounding sneakers filled the path. The doors flung open and a tide of half-dressed, bed-headed children swarmed in like a plague.

“Oh no,” you breathed, eyes wide. “It’s too late.”

Counselors were dragging in behind them—Vi looked like she hadn’t slept, her hoodie halfway on, Sevika had reappeared in a clean tank top and a suspiciously smug look, and Carol stormed through the kitchen doors like a drill sergeant ready for war.

“WHO SET OFF THE SMOKE DETECTOR?” she barked.

“Long story,” you and Jinx both said at the same time.

But then—salvation.

A kid took a bite of the pancake and cheered.

“IT TASTES LIKE CHRISTMAS.”

Another chimed in: “I LOVE IT! IT’S SPICY PANCAKES!”

Carol blinked, took one of the plates, tasted a bite herself, paused—and then narrowed her eyes at you.

“You cooked these?”

You nodded slowly.

“…Do it again tomorrow.”

You exhaled, tension draining from your shoulders. Jinx collapsed next to the counter like she’d just survived a natural disaster.

Across the room, Sevika leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with a slow, crooked grin.

You smirked back.

The sun had climbed high and hot, turning the archery field into a sweatbox of trampled grass and sunscreen fumes. You stood just past the caution line, squinting into the midday haze, your camp t-shirt clinging slightly to your back and your tan shorts already dusted with dry dirt. Your hair was frizzing out at the edges, heat turning every curl into its own rebellion.

You crossed your arms and glanced sideways. “Are we sure this is safe?”

Sevika stood a few feet away, arms folded, sunglasses low on her nose. She looked absurdly cool for someone standing in front of a weapons rack. “They’re shooting blunt arrows at foam targets from twenty feet away,” she muttered. “Pretty sure the biggest threat here is sunburn.”

“Or a rogue seven-year-old deciding they’re the target,” you replied, eyes trailing a camper who just released an arrow with their eyes closed.

The arrow flew comically wide, landing in the grass with a pitiful thump.

Sevika winced. “Okay, yeah. That one’s banned from Hunger Games night.”

You snorted and leaned against the post with a sigh. “Didn’t you say you used to be good at this?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I am good at this.”

You tilted your head, biting back a grin. “Wanna prove it?”

Sevika’s sunglasses slid down further on her nose. “Are you challenging me?”

“Unless you’re scared to lose in front of thirty children.”

A gasp rang out from behind you.

“OOOOHHHHHHH,” one of the kids screamed. “MISS Y/N’S STARTING BEEF.”

Another ran off to the other counselors yelling, “SEVIKA VS. Y/N! BOW SHOWDOWN!”

You groaned, already regretting your choices. But Sevika? She was thriving. She turned to grab one of the bows, flexing her arm just enough to make sure you noticed.

“Don’t embarrass yourself,” she said, passing you one.

You rolled your eyes. “I grew up around hunters, thank you very much.”

“Right,” she muttered, not hiding her smirk. “And I’m sure they trained you between riding ponies and picking peaches.”

“Oh, you’re done for.”

What followed was pure camp chaos.

A full crowd of kids had gathered behind the line, shouting over each other and waving half-melted candy bars as betting collateral. Jinx ran up with a notebook she’d stolen from someone’s cabin, shouting, “Odds are two-to-one in favor of Big Vika, but I’m giving bonus points for style!”

“That’s illegal!” Vi yelled from across the field.

“No rules, only vibes!” Jinx howled.

Carol walked by, paused, surveyed the situation, then muttered, “If nobody dies, I’m pretending I didn’t see this,” and kept walking.

You nocked your arrow, lips pressed together in concentration. Sevika watched you with that crooked grin, her stance relaxed, her fingers adjusting the grip like it was muscle memory. The air buzzed—not just with noise but energy.

“Loser cleans all the dinner dishes tonight,” you said, raising your bow.

“Loser sleeps on the floor,” Sevika countered, raising hers to match.

“Excuse me?!”

“Too late,” she smirked. “You already agreed.”

You both let your arrows fly.

Two dull thunks.

Yours landed just outside the red ring.

Hers? Dead center.

The kids exploded.

Screaming. Cheering. Someone threw a handful of Skittles into the air like confetti. Jinx was spinning in a circle like she’d just witnessed a historical sports moment. “OH MY GOD SHE ROBIN HOODED YOUR ASS.”

You turned to Sevika, jaw dropped. “Okay. Best of three.”

“Oh, now you wanna fight.”

“You’re going down.”

And for the rest of the hour, the kids were in heaven. You and Sevika alternated between competitive bickering and flirtatious sabotage—Sevika bumped your hip once during a shot and you nearly nailed the announcer tent. You flicked her ponytail while she was mid-draw and her arrow veered left.

Nobody remembered who actually won.

But by the time you walked back toward the cabins, hand brushing hers, sweaty and breathless and grinning so hard your cheeks hurt, it didn’t really matter.

The lake shimmered under the afternoon sun, water rippling soft and slow while the younger campers shrieked and splashed in the shallows. Their laughter echoed across the dock like music—chaotic and sweet. You sat at the edge, bare feet dangling over the water, your chin resting on your knees as the breeze played with your curls.

Behind you, Sevika dropped down with a grunt, knees spread wide, forearms resting lazily across them. Her camp shirt clung to her back from the heat, and she rolled a blade of grass between her fingers like she was trying not to stare at you for too long.

But she was staring.

You felt it—every time her eyes traced your profile, lingered a little too long on your lips. The air between you buzzed with a new kind of tension. Not the fiery, rough kind from last night. This was quieter. Slower. Like the calm just before a summer storm.

“I think you actually let me win that last round,” you murmured.

Sevika scoffed, but it was half-hearted. “You needed the confidence boost.”

You glanced at her sideways. “You’re just mad I called you ‘Robin Hood with a god complex’ in front of thirty children.”

“You should be scared of arrows now.”

You bumped her shoulder with yours. “You love me.”

It slipped out before you could stop it.

The silence after wasn’t awkward—it was thick. Full. You didn’t even breathe until you felt her hand shift behind you, fingers brushing your back gently as she leaned in closer.

Her voice was low. “Maybe I do.”

Your heart kicked in your chest.

You turned, facing her now, close enough to see the freckles just under her left eye. Her lips parted, her gaze dropped to your mouth, and your own breath caught.

This was it.

That slow, heavy gravity pulling you forward like the kiss would be inevitable.

And then—

“Counselors!” Carol’s voice came like a thunderclap from behind, full of clipped professionalism and absolutely zero regard for your moment.

You jumped. Sevika groaned, already leaning back with a hand over her face like she’d been hit with a brick.

Carol marched up the dock with a clipboard clutched to her chest like a holy relic. “Just a heads up,” she said briskly. “We’re getting a small wave of older campers this afternoon. They had their reservation at Camp Brookpine canceled due to mold in the cabins, and since we have space, they’re being transferred here. Middle school to early high school range.”

You blinked. “That’s… a big age gap.”

Carol didn’t even pause. “Yes, which is why we’re only assigning three counselors to supervise them. Since they’re older, they won’t require full handholding like the younger groups.”

You knew what was coming before she even said it.

“Sevika, Jinx, and Caitlyn—you’ll be heading up that group.”

“What?” Sevika sat up straighter. “Whos Caitlyn?”

Carol looked mildly annoyed. “She’s trained in self-defense, CPR, and conflict mediation. The teens are gonna adore her.”

“I think they’re more likely to plot a mutiny,” Jinx muttered from behind Carol, holding a dripping pool noodle like a club.

Carol sighed. “Just… show them around, make them feel included. They’ll be arriving within the hour.”

Then she turned and walked off with the efficiency of someone who didn’t care about the romantic tension she just destroyed.

You exhaled, shoulders slumping. “Well… so much for kissing you.”

Sevika stood and brushed her hands off on her shorts. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

She leaned down, smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Middle schoolers don’t stay up late,” she murmured. “But I do.”

And then she walked away—boots heavy on the dock, already yelling at Jinx to stop hitting things with a foam noodle.

You were still smiling when the wind picked up, rustling through the trees like a warning.

Far off in the forest, something cracked.

But you didn’t hear it.

Not yet.

The bus hissed as it came to a full stop, its engine sputtering out like it, too, was dreading what came next.

The older campers filed out in clumps, dragging duffel bags, skateboards, and tangled earbuds behind them like a storm of hormones and dry shampoo. A few wore smug expressions like they already hated it here. Some rolled their eyes, some yawned dramatically, and at least one boy said, “This place smells like grass and sadness.”

“Lovely,” Sevika muttered under her breath.

You stood near the counselor’s cabin with Caitlyn beside you, clipboard in hand, her hair braided neatly down her back, expression unreadably calm. Sevika loomed to your left, sunglasses on and arms folded, looking every bit the “camp enforcer” the kids would absolutely make up rumors about before dinner.

One girl with long braids and glitter under her eyes smiled wide when she spotted you. “Oh my god, you’re so pretty. Are you like… a real counselor?”

You blinked. “Uh… yeah?”

Another girl with big sunglasses and a too-small tank top giggled. “You don’t look like the rest of these nature nerds.”

You smiled politely, cheeks warming as they swarmed closer, clearly deciding you were the safe adult to befriend. One offered you a jelly bracelet. Another asked what your skincare routine was. A third leaned over and whispered, “Does she—” she motioned toward Sevika, “—bite?”

Sevika, still wearing her sunglasses and a bored expression, didn’t even turn.

But the moment her head tilted just slightly in the girl’s direction—

She squeaked and scrambled away, muttering, “Yup, definitely bites.”

“She's not that scary,” you said with a laugh, glancing up at Sevika.

She didn’t smile—but the twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away.

Meanwhile, Caitlyn was surrounded by three girls asking her how to get a body like hers and if she was “actually British or just faking it for the aesthetic.” Caitlyn answered all of them with deadpan charm, never once losing control of the clipboard.

Further down the path, Jinx had somehow already taught two boys how to start a water balloon war, and was currently using a rolled-up schedule sheet as a fake megaphone.

“Team Chaos, report to me if you don’t want to do any actual work!”

Carol caught wind of that in less than two seconds and dragged Jinx off for a “talk.”

You watched it all with your hands on your hips, shoulders already a little tense. The younger kids had been wild—but this? This was a new breed. Half of them looked like they’d grown up on TikTok and spite. And the way they looked at Sevika—like she was either going to murder them or teach them how to kill—was a little funny.

One of the boys passed you and muttered to his friend, “She looks like a final boss.”

Sevika heard that. She definitely heard that.

She leaned over to you and said, deadpan, “Should I start sharpening a stick just to mess with them?”

You snorted. “Please don’t traumatize the high schoolers on day one.”

“Fine,” she muttered. “Day two.”

You shook your head, laughing as the crowd began to thin, kids being directed toward their new bunks by Caitlyn and a few junior counselors.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that the camp had just… shifted.

Older kids brought older problems.

And somewhere out in those woods, the story Jinx told—the one you’d tried to forget—still lingered like smoke you couldn’t quite clear from the air.

The crickets had finally replaced the children’s screaming, and the campfire was burned down to soft orange embers. You were sprawled across a log, your hair still damp from a quick rinse, cheeks flushed from s’mores and smoky heat. Around you, the other counselors lazed in varying degrees of exhaustion—Caitlyn flipping through her clipboard even now, Jinx playing with the last burnt marshmallow, and Sevika leaning against a tree trunk with one long leg stretched out, a soda can balanced on her knee.

“Alright,” Jinx suddenly declared, standing with a dramatic stretch, arms up and spine cracking. “Who’s down for a night swim?”

You blinked, glancing around. “Is that allowed?”

Jinx grinned. “Camp’s asleep. Carol’s asleep. The lake’s wide awake.”

And before anyone could argue, she peeled off her camp t-shirt, revealing a cotton-candy pink and blue striped swimsuit with one strap falling off her shoulder like it was made to be dramatic. She let out a loud, “WOOO!” and took off running barefoot toward the lake, sand kicking up behind her.

There was a beat of silence.

Then water splashed violently in the distance.

“…Well, shit,” Vi muttered, already tugging her own shirt off and calling back, “You better not drown before I get there!”

You laughed as Caitlyn shook her head, muttering, “Unbelievable,” but still stood and started walking toward her cabin with what you were pretty sure was a small smirk.

More followed—some counselors stripping down to their underwear, some ducking off to change, the quiet turning electric with the thrill of something forbidden.

You were already wearing your bikini beneath your shorts and shirt—had been all day. So you slipped your shirt off, dropped your shorts to the side, and brushed your hair back from your face, padding barefoot after the others toward the lake.

Behind you, Sevika stood slowly, her voice a low grumble: “Y’all are lucky I brought swim shit.”

You glanced over your shoulder just in time to see her heading for the cabin. A few minutes later, she emerged again—low-slung black swim shorts hugging her hips, and a tight black sports bra that clung to her chest in a way that made your throat go a little dry. Her tattooed arms were lit in silver-blue moonlight, hair tied back, jaw flexing as she caught your stare.

“Eyes up, sweetheart,” she teased, brushing past you.

You didn’t even pretend to be embarrassed.

By the time you reached the dock, the lake was alive with laughter—splashing, shouting, someone trying to push Jinx off a floatie and being promptly dragged under with her. The water glowed like ink and diamonds under the moon, warm and smooth like silk against your skin as you dove in.

You surfaced with a gasp, brushing water from your eyes—and Sevika was already next to you, floating lazily on her back, her voice rumbling through the quiet like a low drum.

“This counts as my shower, by the way.”

You snorted. “Noted.”

She cracked an eye open. “You still scared of the lake after that story?”

You paused, just slightly. “...A little.”

“Then stick close,” she said simply, and drifted a little closer, her fingers brushing yours beneath the water.

And for a few minutes, the world was perfect. Cool lake, warm hearts, distant laughter.

None of you noticed the figure standing just beyond the tree line.

Watching.

Waiting.

The water was warm around your waist, your hair slicked back as you laughed, wiping lake droplets from your lashes. The moon glimmered high above, casting silver across the rippling lake. Somewhere to your left, someone was humming an off-key version of a pop song while Vi and Caitlyn argued about if swimming at night counted as “reckless endangerment.”

Then Jinx’s voice cut through the chaos like a flare.

“CHICKEN FIGHT!”

Everyone froze.

You blinked. “Like… now?”

“NOW!” she yelled, already clambering up onto the broad shoulders of a guy with tight curls and an exasperated grin—clearly Ekko, her longtime partner in crime. “Get a team, coward!”

You turned, eyes landing on Sevika just as she raised an eyebrow at you.

“I know you’re not looking at me like I’m about to let you climb on my shoulders.”

You grinned wide. “Why not?”

“I could drown.”

“You’re literally the strongest person in this lake.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But if I go down, I’m dragging you with me.”

You giggled and paddled over. She sank a little deeper, bracing her hands on your hips. “Up,” she muttered.

You braced one hand on her shoulder, one on her head, and hoisted yourself up. With a small splash and a breathy laugh, you settled onto her shoulders, thighs locked around her neck, her strong hands gripping your calves for balance.

“Comfortable?” she asked, dry as ever.

“Oh, so comfortable.” You leaned forward just slightly, brushing damp fingers through her hair. “How’s your view?”

Her grip tightened on your thighs. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

Jinx was already howling across the water. “C’mon, cupcake! You better bring the heat!”

“You’re going down!” you shouted back, breathless from laughter.

Jinx raised her fists dramatically. “Let the Battle of the Century BEGIN!”

Ekko waded closer, grumbling under his breath, “I’m too old for this shit—”

And chaos erupted.

The waves slapped against your stomach as you reached forward, fingers locked with Jinx’s, the both of you laughing, shrieking, trying to knock each other off your human mounts. Sevika was a rock under you—solid, unbothered, smirking with every wave you swayed through. Ekko, meanwhile, cursed every five seconds as Jinx flailed and tried to pull your hair.

“FOUL PLAY!” you yelled.

“NO RULES!” Jinx screamed, trying to yank your arm while giggling so hard she nearly fell off.

It lasted maybe two glorious, chaotic minutes before Jinx miscalculated a grab and overreached. You saw it in her eyes just before it happened—the slow-motion panic.

“NOPE—no—”

Splash.

She and Ekko went under in a dramatic heap, water spraying like a mini tsunami.

You sat victorious atop Sevika’s shoulders, chest heaving, arms raised. The crowd of counselors watching from the shore erupted in cheers, clapping and laughing and screaming things like “CHAMPION!” and “SHE DESTROYED YOU, JINX!”

Sevika shifted beneath you, reaching up to grab your waist and slowly pull you down. As you slid off her shoulders and into the water in front of her, your chest pressed against hers, her hands naturally resting at your hips.

“Good work, sniper,” she murmured, smirking down at you, your bodies half-submerged, water beading on her neck.

You bit your lip, grinning. “You liked that?”

She leaned in just enough for her breath to brush your lips. “I like you on my shoulders.”

Your cheeks flushed, heart hammering as her fingers tapped gently against your hip.

You were about to kiss her again—right there in the water—when Jinx popped up between you with a mouthful of lake water.

“Next round!” she choked out. “I’m getting revenge!”

Ekko coughed behind her. “We need a break.”

You and Sevika dissolved into laughter, forehead to her shoulder as the summer night stretched on—wet, wild, and full of heat.

But just beyond the dock, behind a curtain of trees, something moved in the dark.

And it was watching.

The two of you left the lake after most of the others had either wandered off toward their cabins or stayed behind to float under the stars. Your bikini clung damp to your skin, the camp shirt you tugged on over it sticking in places as you walked barefoot down the gravel path. The laughter had faded behind you. The night was quieter now.

Too quiet.

Sevika’s steps were solid beside yours, boots crunching softly as she carried both your towels slung over her shoulder. She hadn’t bothered changing out of her swim shorts or sports bra, water still glinting off her collarbones in the moonlight. She looked calm. Relaxed, even. But the way her eyes kept flicking toward the trees said something else.

You noticed it too.

The air felt... heavier than before. The breeze was gone. The crickets had quieted.

“Hey,” you murmured, bumping your elbow into hers. “You alright?”

She didn’t answer right away.

“Something’s off,” she said, low.

Your stomach tightened.

You turned your head, scanning the dark between the trees lining the path back to the cabins. The moonlight didn’t quite reach beyond the trunks. Just black between branches. Deeper than it should’ve been.

Like the forest was holding its breath.

“I think that story Jinx told is still messing with me,” you tried to joke, your voice barely above a whisper. “The one about the guy who killed his lover and lives in the woods, hunting down couples?”

Sevika’s jaw flexed.

You both paused at the edge of the clearing where the woods broke into a thin trail leading toward your cabin. The air here felt colder—cooler against your skin, like stepping into a shadow that wasn’t supposed to be there.

Then—

Crack.

You froze.

A branch. Somewhere behind you. Not the soft snap of something falling from a tree—no, this was footsteps. Deliberate.

You whipped around, eyes wide, scanning the dark.

Nothing.

Sevika’s arm was suddenly in front of you, pushing you gently behind her. She said nothing, but her posture shifted—tense, alert. One hand resting against your hip, the other slightly curled at her side like she was waiting for something to lunge.

“Probably a deer,” she muttered. “Or raccoon. Might’ve followed the food trail back from the mess hall.”

But even she didn’t sound convinced.

You swallowed, voice tight. “Do raccoons break branches like that?”

She didn’t answer.

Another beat of silence. Still nothing.

She exhaled through her nose. “Let’s go.”

You didn’t argue.

You stuck close to her as you walked the last stretch, her hand resting on the small of your back, eyes never leaving the treeline. Your heart thudded hard against your ribs the entire time, ears straining for another sound.

But nothing came.

By the time your cabin creaked into view, the breeze had picked up again. The crickets returned. The forest breathed again.

Like nothing had happened.

But as you climbed the porch steps and Sevika pushed open the cabin door, you couldn’t shake it.

The sound. The stillness. The feeling of something watching.

And the faintest impression… that it wasn’t done yet.

You stood at the edge of the grassy field, sunlight beating down on your tied-back camp shirt as a swarm of kids buzzed around like bees high on sugar. The boxes of Color War shirts were stacked and sorted—bright reds and blues folded in neat piles, ready for that evening’s chaos.

“Blue if your birthday’s in the first half of the year,” you called out, holding up a navy tee. “Red if you’re born in the second half. Don’t lie just to match your best friend—Carol will find out and cry.”

Groans, laughter, and a couple dramatic fake sobs echoed around you as the line snaked forward.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you said, handing a red shirt to a sullen eighth-grader who only grunted in response.

You bent over the box again, digging for a smaller size when—

“Careful,” a low voice murmured near your ear. “You keep bending like that, I’m gonna start charging admission.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you straightened. “Do you flirt with everyone during team prep?”

“Only the hot ones.”

Sevika stepped up behind you without warning, close enough that your back nearly brushed her chest. Her hands slid casually onto your hips—warm, strong, confident—just enough pressure to make your breath catch.

“Sevika,” you warned softly, glancing around to make sure none of the kids were watching.

“Relax,” she murmured, nose brushing just behind your ear. “They’re too busy eating dirt.”

You giggled despite yourself, your voice catching with the hint of a breathy squeak. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” she said, squeezing your waist once before stepping back. “Now hurry up and feed those gremlins or we’ll have a riot.”

You turned with a flushed smile and gave her a playful glare, swatting her thigh with a folded blue tee before tossing it to a camper. “Go terrorize your own team, Red.”

Sevika grinned and started to back away toward the red team’s section, but not before giving you a once-over that lingered just a second too long.

“You’re wearing that for me, huh?” she called over her shoulder, motioning to your tied-up shirt and jean shorts.

“Shut up and get your lunch,” you laughed, cheeks burning.

With the last few shirts handed out and the chaos momentarily settled, you brushed your hands on your shorts and made a beeline for the mess hall, ignoring the way your skin still tingled where her hands had been.

The mess hall smelled like grilled cheese and suspiciously runny mac and cheese, which was apparently enough to distract even the most feral campers. You slid into a seat at the end of one of the counselor tables, your tray clattering down with a sigh. Your shirt still clung to the sweat at your back, and your ponytail was doing more flopping than holding anything up.

Caitlyn sat across from you with her own tray, looking far too composed for someone wrangling children all morning. Her posture was perfect, her camp shirt somehow unwrinkled, and her expression—mild, curious—told you she was mid-observation.

“Color War shirts look good,” she said casually, poking at her steamed carrots with a fork.

“Thanks,” you replied, taking a sip from your water bottle. “Didn’t think I’d be organizing middle school battlefield aesthetics this summer, but here we are.”

“You seem… in high spirits,” she added, raising an eyebrow. “Despite the heat. And the drama. And the older kids who keep trying to vape in the bathroom.”

You squinted at her. “Is there a point coming, or are we circling?”

She gave a small smile, tilting her head. “Just noticing how close you and Sevika have gotten.”

Your fork paused halfway to your mouth.

“…We’ve been close.”

“Mm. Sure. But the kind of close where she stands behind you like she’s ready to rip out the throat of anyone who looks too long? That’s new.”

You blinked, then laughed nervously. “Wow. You always this subtle?”

Caitlyn shrugged. “Just curious. She doesn’t open up to many people. Especially not here.” She popped a grape in her mouth, then added, almost too casually, “You like her?”

The question hit harder than you expected.

You looked down at your tray, poking the corner of your grilled cheese.

“…Yeah,” you said softly. “I do.”

She didn’t press.

Caitlyn just nodded once, then nudged her tray forward. “Eat up. Color War starts in three hours, and you’re gonna need energy to fend off whatever chaos Jinx unleashes.”

You smiled—half-grateful, half-nervous.

Because even with all the teasing and flirtation, this thing with Sevika… it wasn’t just a summer thing.

Not for you.

And if Caitlyn had already noticed—others would too.

After lunch, most of the campers were off in clusters—some playing kickball, others hiking toward the lake, a few just lounging in the shade trying to survive the afternoon heat. You were refilling water bottles at the spigot behind the mess hall, the old hose sputtering and squeaking every time you twisted the nozzle too fast.

That’s when you noticed her.

One of the new girls from the older group, maybe thirteen or fourteen. Pale, with long brown hair braided down her back, and a sweatshirt tied around her waist even in this heat. She wasn’t with the others. Just standing at the treeline beyond the arts and crafts shed, half-shaded by pine boughs, arms hanging loose at her sides.

Staring.

Not at you—but past you.

You turned slowly, followed her line of sight.

There was nothing. Just the mess hall. A couple counselors. Jinx chasing someone with a pool noodle.

Still… something about the way she was looking made your skin prickle.

You capped the water bottle and made your way over, soft footsteps crunching on the dirt path.

“Hey there,” you said gently, keeping your tone light. “You alright? Not feeling sick or anything, are you?”

She blinked slowly, as if only just realizing you were talking to her. Her eyes flicked to yours—unreadable. Dark.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly.

You hesitated. “You sure? Everyone’s down by the lake, if you wanted to cool off. It’s hot as hell today.”

Another blink. A pause. Then—

“I wasn’t watching you.”

You frowned. “I didn’t say you were.”

The girl’s lips pressed into a thin line. She looked down at her sneakers, one toe digging into the dirt like she was waiting for something. Or someone.

“I saw someone in the woods last night,” she said suddenly.

Your breath caught.

“What?”

She looked back up. “When we got here. After lights out. I woke up and looked out the window. Someone was out there. Tall. Not moving. Just… standing.”

You swallowed.

“Did you tell anyone?”

She shook her head. “Didn’t want to sound crazy.”

Your chest tightened.

“Well,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice calm, “if you ever see anything weird again, come find me. Or Sevika. Or Carol, even. It’s our job to keep you safe.”

The girl didn’t smile. Just nodded once. Then turned and walked off toward the cabins like it was nothing.

But the weight in your chest lingered.

You stared into the treeline for a long second.

That strange silence from the other night echoed in your memory.

And behind your ribs, something cold flickered.

The late afternoon sun draped long shadows across the field, striping the grass in gold and green. You stood just outside the supply shed, clipboard in hand, checking off the last of the Color War stations as a slow breeze lifted your hair and cooled the sweat at your temple. But your fingers still fidgeted—thumb brushing nervously along the silver charm at your neck. That girl’s words echoed in your head no matter how many times you told yourself she was probably just overtired. Or making it up. Or—

“You’re overthinking again,” Sevika’s voice drawled from behind you.

You turned to see her approaching, red team bandana tied around her bicep like some war general fresh out of a camp magazine. Her wide-leg pants were tucked slightly into her boots, the assigned camp shirt cut at the sleeves. She was holding two baskets filled with colored face paint, little squirt bottles of water, red and blue flags, and glow sticks for when the sun went down.

“I’m not overthinking,” you said, even though your voice cracked slightly.

She raised a brow and handed you a basket. “Right. That’s why you’ve been checking the same clipboard box for the last two minutes.”

You blinked, looked down, and realized she was right. You hadn’t moved your pen at all.

With a sigh, you finally scratched a check mark next to “Capture the Flag Prep – South Field.”

Sevika stepped beside you, eyes scanning the list. “Everything’s ready?”

“Just about. We’ve got flag stations marked. Face paint for team identity. Water bottles. First-aid kits. Rope lines for the ‘prison’ zone.” You paused. “Still waiting on Jinx to finish the obstacle course… which, I’ve been told, involves tarps and vegetable oil.”

Sevika grimaced. “Why is she like this.”

“She thrives on chaos.”

You both started walking toward the clearing where the kids would be gathering soon. The camp was buzzing with movement now. You could hear the thud of basketballs on pavement, the distant splash of someone being shoved into the lake, and Carol yelling about sunscreen from somewhere near the staff cabins. Everything looked… normal. Almost perfect.

So why did it still feel wrong?

You glanced at the edge of the woods.

Sevika followed your gaze, then nudged you gently with her elbow. “You wanna tell me what’s going on, or keep pretending I can’t see it all over your face?”

You hesitated, lips parting—then closing again. You wanted to tell her. About the girl. The story. The sound in the woods. But something about speaking it out loud made it feel too real. Like if you said it, you’d summon it.

“I just didn’t sleep well,” you said softly.

She watched you for a second longer, then nodded—like she didn’t believe you but wouldn’t press.

“Alright. But if you fall asleep during war prep, I’m painting a dick on your cheek in red.”

You snorted. “If I fall asleep, you have permission to.”

By the time you reached the main field, the campers were assembling into their teams. Blue bandanas tied around foreheads, red ones waving like war banners. Counselors shouted team names, fake chants rang through the trees, and Jinx was holding a megaphone she definitely wasn’t supposed to have.

“WELCOME TO COLOR WARRRRRRRRRRR!” she shouted in a monster voice that made half the kids scream and the rest laugh.

Vi snatched the megaphone out of her hands mid-sentence and tossed it into the grass.

“Seriously, Jinx.”

You couldn’t help but smile. You raised your basket and started walking between teams, passing out face paint and glow sticks, showing the kids how to stripe their cheeks and wrap the glow sticks around their wrists like bracelets.

A blue team girl tugged your hand and asked, “Are we allowed to smear paint on our legs, too?”

“As long as you don’t ruin your shorts, go wild,” you said.

Across the field, Sevika was crouched in the grass helping a boy tie a red bandana around his ankle like a battle charm. When she stood, the kid saluted her and sprinted back toward his teammates like he’d just had a moment with a god.

You caught Sevika’s eye and smiled. She didn’t smile back—but she winked.

That made your stomach flip harder than you wanted to admit.

As you stepped closer to the red team to finish handing out their gear, one of the older girls from your cabin sidled up beside you. Her cheeks were already streaked in red paint, and her eyes sparkled with adrenaline.

“This is gonna be so fun,” she said, almost breathless. “Everyone’s freaking out about the woods. It’s perfect.”

You froze, glancing down at her. “What do you mean… freaking out?”

She grinned. “There’s rumors. That someone saw a shadow last night near the boys’ cabins. Tall, like—super tall. Didn’t move. Just stood there. Like one of those old ghost stories.”

Your heart dropped.

But before you could say anything, a whistle blew. Carol stood in the middle of the field with her clipboard, yelling over the buzz.

“Teams to the starting line! First event in fifteen!”

Sevika appeared at your side, hip brushing yours.

“You okay?” she murmured again.

This time, you didn’t lie.

“…Something’s not right.”

Her jaw flexed. She nodded slowly. “Then stay close tonight. Don’t go into the woods. Not even for a second.”

You looked up at her.

“I mean it,” she said.

And the weight of it settled over your chest like armor—heavy, necessary, and too late to shrug off.

Because tonight, the woods weren’t just background.

They were watching.

The sun dipped lower behind the treeline, smearing amber and bruised orange across the sky. The colors stretched wide over Camp Pinewillow, golden light slanting across the grass as the air turned thick with warmth and sweat and something else—something quieter. Sharper.

The games had begun with harmless chaos: tug-of-war on the south lawn, sponge relay races near the mess hall, dodgeball with soft foam balls that Vi kept launching too hard. Kids shrieked and cheered, flushed with excitement and sugar from the buckets of lemonade Jinx had swiped from the kitchen fridge. You'd gotten smacked in the back of the knee with a rogue dodgeball and nearly collapsed, but Sevika was too busy heckling from the sidelines to show mercy.

Still, it was fun. For a while.

Then the light started to shift.

You were on the edge of the field helping one of the younger kids re-tie her glow stick bracelet when it hit you: the crickets had gone quiet. No birds. No rustling leaves. Just the distant hum of voices and Carol’s whistle slicing through the air like it was working too hard to be heard.

You glanced toward the woods.

Nothing moved.

Sevika must’ve caught the tension in your shoulders, because she was suddenly behind you, a firm hand on the small of your back.

“You alright?”

You nodded quickly. “Just… thought I saw something.”

She looked too. Her brows furrowed, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she kept her hand there—steady, grounding, protective.

It helped. A little.

You regrouped with the rest of the counselors as the final challenge was being set up. Capture the Flag. The classic.

Red team’s flag would be hidden in the woods past the rope line. Blue team’s was behind the volleyball courts. Rules were simple. Stay in bounds. No tackling. Capture the other team’s flag and bring it back to your base to win.

Simple.

Except nothing about the forest looked simple anymore.

You swallowed as the campers lined up at their starting points. The older kids were buzzing with nerves, their jokes too loud, their movements jittery. One of the boys was holding a glow stick like it was a sword, spinning it between his fingers like he was trying to keep himself distracted.

You stood near the edge of the field, clipboard in hand, as Jinx gave the starting countdown through cupped hands.

“Three! Two! One!”

A shrill whistle pierced the air and the kids scattered in every direction like ants kicked out of their hill.

You watched them vanish between trees and over hills, their bandanas flapping behind them like flags of war. A few stayed close to the sidelines. Some shot off into the brush with flashlights bobbing like fireflies. You lost track of them quickly.

But it wasn’t the kids who unsettled you.

It was the way the woods swallowed them so easily.

Like they were expected.

Sevika was nearby, her arms crossed as she scanned the edge of the trees. Every so often, she tilted her head like she was listening for something. Her jaw was locked tight, and her entire body held that still, predator-like calm you were starting to recognize—like she was waiting.

You edged toward her. “They’re okay, right? I mean, we’ve done headcounts and paired the older kids with younger ones…”

Sevika nodded. “They’re fine. It’s just a game.”

But even she didn’t sound convinced.

A loud whoop cut through the air as a kid emerged from the trees holding a red flag high above his head, his teammates shrieking in triumph. A flurry of footsteps followed as the rest of the blue team charged back toward their side, and the game shifted toward celebration.

Your shoulders eased.

But then you saw her.

The girl from earlier.

The quiet one.

She wasn’t celebrating. She was standing just inside the tree line, a few feet deeper than anyone else, half-hidden by shadows.

And she wasn’t looking at the flag.

She was looking deeper into the woods.

Frozen.

Still.

Like she was listening.

You started toward her—but before you could get close, one of the counselors called your name. You turned, just for a second.

When you looked back, the girl was gone.

The wind shifted.

And for a moment, it smelled like something old.

Something wet.

Something buried.

It had gotten dark. Too dark.

Color War was still technically going—teams were scattered in the woods and the fields, still chasing flags, still yelling—but the thrill of the game had shifted into something restless. The air felt different now. Heavy, like it was pressing down on the trees. And the trees... the trees didn’t feel like trees anymore.

You stood on the path leading away from the rope line, squinting through the dark, your breath puffing out too fast.

“Logan? Maya? Zeke?” you called, turning in a slow circle. “Guys, you’re not supposed to go this far!”

Nothing.

No answer.

Just distant whooping from the field. Then silence.

Your fingers reached instinctively toward your hip—but the walkie-talkie wasn’t clipped to your belt.

Your stomach dropped.

“Shit,” you whispered, patting your sides in case you’d missed it. It was gone. You must’ve dropped it somewhere near the rope line—but now, even the direction you came from didn’t look right. The trail was gone. Swallowed.

You pulled out your flashlight, hands trembling slightly, and clicked it on.

A narrow cone of light flickered weakly onto the brush. It didn’t reach far. You could see dust floating in the beam. Little white motes that looked too much like ash.

The light sputtered.

You hit the side of it. “Come on. Come on—”

It blinked once.

Twice.

Then died.

Everything went black.

Your chest rose sharply. The breath caught in your throat like a knife point.

You turned quickly, trying to remember which way the main field was—but the dark looked the same in every direction. No campfires. No lanterns. Just trees. Just—

Crunch.

Your blood froze.

The sound came from behind you. Footsteps.

Slow.

Deliberate.

You spun around, heart thudding, squinting hard to see anything.

Then—

Something moved.

A shape. Tall. Just between the trees. Standing like it was waiting.

And in its hand—

An axe.

Your scream tore through the trees, raw and wild and full of panic. You didn’t wait. You didn’t think.

You ran.

Branches whipped at your arms and face, tearing at your shirt as your feet scrambled over dirt and rocks. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you had to get away.

Behind you, the forest shifted. A crack of twigs. A whisper of leaves moving. A shadow dragging behind your own.

Your lungs burned.

Your legs screamed.

And still, you kept running.

Because you knew—

Whatever it was—

It wasn’t part of the game.

The game had run long.

Too long.

The humid summer night had sunk fully into the camp now, casting everything in a deep indigo that swallowed the tree line. The faint glow of flashlights bobbed here and there across the field as the last few groups straggled back toward the mess hall, most of them muddy, breathless, and loud from the adrenaline of the game.

Vi stood near the fire pit with a whistle tucked in her fingers, shouting over the chaos. “Alright! Bring it in! Color War part two tomorrow night! If you’re not back in ten minutes, your team forfeits flag points!”

Groans and laughter followed her call.

Sevika was further out near the edge of the woods, ushering a few campers through the rope line. She glanced at her watch—almost 10 p.m. Too late. Carol would lose it if the game dragged any longer. She tapped her walkie-talkie. Static. Just a little. But she could still hear Vi through the general chatter.

She looked back toward the trail, expecting you to come out of it any second.

But it wasn’t you.

It was your group.

Logan, Zeke, Maya, and Dani jogged up with flushed cheeks and dirt-streaked shins, breathless and grinning.

Sevika’s brows pulled together, stomach tightening.

“Hey,” she called, stepping forward, eyes scanning behind them. “Where’s—”

She didn’t finish.

Because Maya was already stammering.

“She was—uh—there was this thing, it was just a prank, I swear. Some of the older boys from red team, they said they wanted to scare her—just, like, a joke! They said they’d hide the flag and spook her a little, we didn’t think—she said she was gonna go after them and then—then we couldn’t find her—”

Vi was suddenly beside them, eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you couldn’t find her?”

“I thought she was still with us!” Logan added quickly. “She had a flashlight and everything!”

“She’s got her walkie, right?” Vi asked, already reaching for hers.

Sevika’s jaw clenched. “She did.”

Before anyone could say another word, a sound shattered the night.

A scream.

Your scream.

Raw. Panicked. Blood-curdling. Ripping through the trees from somewhere deep in the woods.

The field went still.

Campers froze mid-step. Counselors stopped mid-word.

Sevika was already moving.

She didn’t wait for permission. Didn’t hesitate. Her boots hit the path with heavy, determined thuds, pushing past the stunned group as Vi called for a flashlight.

But Sevika didn’t need one.

She could hear it in her bones.

You were in trouble.

And nothing—nothing—was going to stop her from getting to you.

Your lungs burned.

Branches tore at your arms. Roots caught your ankles. You didn’t care—you kept running, breath ragged in your throat, the shadows clawing closer with every frantic step. You didn’t know where the path was anymore. You didn’t even know where you were. Just trees. Just dark. Just the impossible thud of footsteps behind you.

Then—open space.

The woods broke.

You nearly skidded off a low drop before catching yourself—your feet hit mud and the smell of algae and lakewater hit your nose like a wall. The lake.

You didn’t think.

You just ran straight in.

The cold hit your skin instantly, cutting through the heat of your panic as you dove under. You kicked hard, arms slapping water as you swam toward the opposite side—your flashlight lost, your breath choked. You didn’t even know if you were being followed anymore.

But you weren’t taking chances.

The far shore was close now—so close. You could see the slope where the counselors swam sometimes, the tree roots that dipped into the shallows like fingers.

You broke through the surface, gasping, clawing through the last few feet of water and scrambling onto the bank. Your fingers dug into moss and wet leaves, pulling your soaked body upward.

But then—

Pain.

Sharp. Piercing. Sudden.

You didn’t even scream right away. It was like your body forgot how.

Then you collapsed—hard—onto your side, your wet shirt clinging to your back as you looked down in disbelief.

Your leg.

Your knee.

There was an arrow in it.

An arrow.

You screamed.

This time it ripped out of you like it had claws.

Your hands trembled violently as you reached toward the shaft sticking out of your skin, the blood seeping around the wound mixing with lake water. You couldn’t even think—just pure panic, pure agony.

Then—

Footsteps.

Crunching leaves.

You dragged yourself back, palms scraping the dirt.

And the figure emerged from the trees.

Tall. Holding an axe.

But it wasn’t some faceless killer.

It was Ran.

She stepped forward, her face lit only by the pale moonlight. And behind her—three boys. Older campers. One of them holding a bow. Another laughing like it was a game. The third with wild eyes and shaking hands.

“Jesus Christ,” Ran barked, voice sharp and furious. “What the fuck did you do?!”

“She was running!” the boy with the bow shouted, defensive. “I didn’t mean to hit her like that! It was just supposed to scare her—”

“Scare her, not shoot her!” Ran snapped, rounding on him.

You stared up at them, the pain turning your breath into hiccupped sobs. Your leg was on fire. You were covered in mud, your hands shaking as you curled into yourself.

“Please,” you choked, voice barely a whisper. “Please, don’t—don’t hurt me—”

Ran turned back, and for a moment, her face looked almost horrified. “Shit,” she muttered, kneeling beside you, hands hovering near your shoulders. “Shit, shit, shit—I didn’t—fuck, I didn’t think you’d run like that—"

You flinched when she reached toward the arrow. She stopped, eyes widening.

“Hey, hey—no one’s gonna hurt you, okay?” she said too quickly. Her tone was frantic now. “We were just messing around. It was a prank. It wasn’t—it wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

You tried to speak. Tried to move. But the pain was too much, and your voice just cracked into another sob.

The boys stood behind her, awkward, scared now too. Like they hadn’t realized this was real until blood was involved. One of them stepped backward. Another muttered something about going to get help.

“Shut up,” Ran hissed. “Don’t move. No one leaves until we figure out what the fuck to do.”

“We should take her back—” one of the boys started.

“No,” Ran snapped, eyes wild. “You think we can explain this? An arrow? We’ll get kicked out—fuck, we’ll get arrested! Just give me a second—”

“Please,” you gasped again, voice wet with tears. “Please—just let me go. Please.”

Ran looked down at you.

And for a split second—just one—something flashed in her eyes that wasn’t panic.

It was guilt.

And fear.

But not for you.

For herself.

“Okay,” Ran muttered, more to herself than to you, her palms hovering just above your knee. “It’s barbed, so if I just—if I turn it a little, I can maybe—”

“No!” you cried out, writhing as her fingers grazed the arrow shaft. Pain rocketed through your entire leg, blinding and sharp, worse than anything you'd ever felt. “Stop—stop please, I can’t—!”

Tears streamed down your face, hot and helpless. Your entire body shook like it was trying to run even though you were pinned to the earth by pain.

“Jesus, just hold still—”

She reached again.

You screamed.

And that's when Sevika arrived.

You didn’t see her first—but the boys did.

Their laughter cut off like a wire had snapped. One of them’s grin fell clean off his face. The bow clattered to the ground with a dull thud.

Sevika stood on the edge of the treeline like a storm breaking open. Her boots crushed through the underbrush, jaw tight, eyes locked dead ahead—on you. On the blood down your leg. On the arrow. On Ran��s hand.

Everything about her face changed.

“Get your hands off her.”

Her voice was low. Deadly. Rage threaded through every word like heat through iron.

Ran froze. Her hand jerked back from the arrow like it burned. “Sevika—listen, I swear—I didn’t mean for this to—”

But Sevika wasn’t listening.

She dropped to her knees beside you like the world had narrowed to just you and the arrow and the blood between you both. Her large hand cupped your cheek so gently it hurt. Her other hovered over your thigh, as if afraid even looking at it would make it worse.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” she whispered, voice cracking at the edges. “I’ve got you.”

“Hurts—” you sobbed, clutching the grass, your body half-curled. “It hurts so bad—”

“I know,” she breathed. “I know, baby. Don’t move, okay? We’re gonna get help.”

Behind her, the other counselors were arriving. Vi first, breathless and wild-eyed, followed by Caitlyn, Jinx, and Carol with a first-aid kit half-clutched in one hand and her radio pressed to her mouth.

“What the fuck is going on?” Vi barked, taking one look at the scene before her voice dropped. “Oh—oh no…”

Caitlyn stepped in quickly, kneeling beside Sevika and you. “Is that—an arrow? Is it barbed?”

Sevika didn’t answer.

She was still looking at the boys.

At Ran.

And then she stood.

Her whole body radiated fury.

“You shot her?”

Ran stood slowly, hands up, voice panicking now. “No—it was a prank, okay? I told them not to shoot, it wasn’t supposed to—she ran, and—"

“She’s bleeding!” Sevika snarled, stepping toward her. “You hunted her down like it was a goddamn game—”

Vi caught her arm before it could escalate. “Vik. Not here. Not in front of her.”

Ran paled visibly, shrinking back. The boys said nothing. One was crying now—actual tears. The other two looked like they wanted to melt into the forest.

Carol, still on her walkie, was muttering for emergency services. “...yes, arrow injury, female camper—counselor, yes—barbed, she’s conscious, bleeding, we need EMTs out to Pinewillow now—”

“Sweetheart,” Sevika said, kneeling again beside you, her fury momentarily caged by the shaking in your hands. “Hey. Look at me.”

You blinked up at her, vision blurred.

“I’m here.”

You nodded weakly.

“Good girl,” she murmured, her thumb stroking along your cheek. “Stay awake. Don’t close your eyes. You’re okay. I swear, you’re okay.”

But her eyes—her eyes never left Ran after that.

comment to be added to the taglist!

@peskylez @barelykiramman @ghuoab @mommyissuesismypersonality @callybaby489 @hotmusclebabe @riotstemple29 @jiungmcvv @kittyk-14 @furrytaesss @anthorius @lolnai @spicy-takimura @korolyov @alisonysblog @96c100lover @joyulria @coneyislandhorrorqueen @korolyov @andyslovingwife @wishingonjellyfish @ff-wpt1602 @blessupblessup @l4dyf1ngers @rosebg @andyslovingwife @nimblestxrs

[hardworkandguts]

Weekly Catch-up #9

I've been watching too much Gundam this week, but at least with the exception of SD Gundam I'm out of the 80s now, only 35 years to go. Also picked up another show from this season, but I'll only cover it in a few weeks with a show post.

(last week, next week)

What was on?

The Apothecary Diaries

(ep 2.21) Loulan passing to her mother the idea of punishing the poison gremlin with poisonous snakes, all fat and lazy and ready for hibernation, knowing she'd have no problem overcoming it is the sort of move that sets up an incredibly funny opening to an episode (it's been a while since we've seen someone weirded out by Maomao because by now everyone in the rear palace knows she's a bit weird) that gets more grim as it goes by. You have to feel sorry for Loulan and Suirei, made to dig their own almost literal graves, and of everyone on their clan, by petty revenge of the matriarch of their clan, and neither really wanted to drag Maomao into this, and now as the smoke of the Forbidden Army is drawing close, knowing that their defeat is a fait accompli, they're doing their best to prevent more senseless suffering. In, uh, many ways. Next episode we're probably getting someone sparkly knocking on the door of the fortress with hand cannons asking if they saw his cat. Also, this episode finally overtakes the manga adaptation it is based on, and out of curiosity I've checked the other one, and on several scenes the storyboard seems much closer to the Kurata Minoji version than Nekokurage's. Coincidence, as the first is allegedly closer to the LN, or not? You be the judge.

Mobile Suit Gundam GQuuuuuux

(ep 9) so, we get to see what Machu was up to while Nyaan was eating cake and vaporising people - being questioned by Challia Bull over Shuji and a "Rose of Sharon", and after mysteriously finding a way to escape to earth on the GQuuuuuux, she finds herself crashing and waking up being taken care of in a brothel by instruction of a brown-skinned girl with green eyes. So, yeah, add Lalah to the "you need to know who this is" list, and keep some space for what's left, because this Lalah sees her backstory from 0079, also a universe where Amuro kills Char, who she patiently waits for. If Gundam multiverse wasn't enough, wait to see what Challia Bull fishes out of the water. With less than a handful of episodes to go, I feel either they're surprise announcing it will continue in October, or this might be rushed as hell, half-assed multiverse stuff often sucks.

Kowloon Generic Romance

(ep 10) well, that's confirmed both Xiaohei are the same person, the one who jumps between part-time jobs and wears dresses being the generic, the mystery is still why both can exist in Kowloon at once when every other generic just disappears. In the adventures of Kujirai and Youmei, Kujirai realised she can see glimpses of Kujirai-B's life through her old glasses which undoubtedly freaked her out, but also made her realise Kudo doesn't look at her the same way, which... Yeah. A new mystery also appears in the form of the charms glued to the wall, some with http errors. What are they meant to be? Good question.

Witch Watch

(ep 10) Nico continues to help other students, but it attracts the attention of a main villain of many school anime - the student council. In this case, a cast of characters in the true sense of the word, as they are a collection of anime clichés. Second bit has Nemu struggling with the idea of talking to Morihito again, so she does the stray cat thing without thinking and falls asleep on his lap again. Not the best episode, I think the student council bit lasted maybe twice as long as it should have, and while Nemu is a fun character, particularly when we see her her thought process as she tries unsuccessfully to not fall asleep, it's a bit of a repeat. She did run into plot, however.

Food for the Soul

(ep 9) ah, yes, the festival episode. That's a lot of work for a club that was supposed to be about doing noting, or so Shinon thought, not that she seems to mind. You know a show is in a good place and doing a good job of characterization when Nana seems particularly happy about the idea of a food stall, and you think to yourself "hey, shouldn't she be kinda anxious about having to work with strangers" seconds before she realises just that, or when Shinon gets the agriculture club president to provide them with ingredients and you are right along the other characters in thinking "what did she promise to do in return this time?". Another bit was Nana training to become more sociable, and after freaking another student out, she realises if they can't see her face she can act normal, leading to an idea very much on the ballpark for Hitori Goto. Also, good call on not making her a deer, the "mascot who sells its own species for food" thing is kinda suspect. Today's dish: venison curry soup.

mono Weekend Animation

(ep 9) another visit, this time to Kamikochi, Kurobe Dam, the tallest in Japan, where the group really can't handle a documentary about the human sacrifice of it's construction, and a visit to the venue of Ski Jumping in the 1998 Olympics. Also, Kako arriving independently at the problem or organising the Winter Olympics - with some of the infrastructure, there just isn't much else you can do with it. Comments around tell me the old man in the motorcycle was a supporting character in Laid Back Camp, and I wonder if the reason the show didn't grow on me at all is that a big component of it seems to be Laid Back Camp cameos.

Uchuujin MuuMuu

(ep 9) Couple of weeks ago I've mentioned poor Sakurako can't get a break in the electricity bill, which has climbed to around $560 by now, and takes six shifts every week at a kombini. Even worse is that MuuMuu is ignoring the mission and just watches TV all the time, and when he isn't, his antics are the subject of news reporting, leaving Sakurako paranoid people might be out to get them. Then the police knocks on his door, and it's Junichirou Anamori, a public safety officer who knows what's up because he's covering things up with Siberia, other of MuuMuu's friends. A lot of good animation bits in this episode, although I have to wonder if the story shouldn't have them introduced before the final third. Today's lesson: a lot about TVs and broadcasting. Also, stun guns.

'Tis Time for "Torture", Princess

(Ch 272) Don't tell me you never stubbed your toes so bad you were afraid of taking out the socks fearing an end of Akira scenario down there and got everyone around you concerned.

Monochrome Days

(Ch 21) of course the idea of Fudo working for Miake terrifies Wakaba, who with even all assurances this is just a temporary thing, thinks he's going to leave her for a more experienced mangaka, and Barazono, who loves a good challenge, even less surprisingly sees that as an opportunity for the first to train under top talent, and to light a fire under the later so both surpass the writing of Miake. There's a good educational bit here coming from a challenge Miake has for her staff: drawing classrooms, one of the most typical settings in manga. It explains succinctly but well how the large number of objects, perspective, materials, and need for consistency provide a challenge to the background artist, and later a reflection on that might be the reason the protagonist so often sits in the back or next to a window. Never thought of it in that way.

In other news...

Do you like hobby anime and shiny rocks? Here's the Summer show for you. Personally I can't wait until by the third episode it becomes a show about drift racing or something.

City the Animation gets a second trailer.

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Trish x Reader

I still have a bunch of other dmc fanfics I haven't posted here like ones for Halloween and Christmas (featuring Nico using gunpowder in a ginger bread house contest and one where Dante is Santa in the parade while Vergil hurls sharpened candy canes at him) but it feels weird uploading them out of season so I'll only do it if anyone is actually interested.

Anyway here's Night of the Living Pizza

Tonight was just going to be you and Trish. She was always so busy and now she finally had a night off. You were fooling around and your stomach started to grumble. How unsexy. "I think I'm goìng to go get some pizza..." you said as you trailed off. You found some leftover pizza slices on Dantes counter and you noticed how cold they were but this was okay since you could just reheat them. You opened the microwave door and set the pizza inside. You went to set the timer but you noticed it was shut off."

Damn it!" you yelled as you slammed your hand on top of the machine. Trish came over and put her arms around you. "What's wrong?" she asked. You pointed at the microwave. "I can't get this stupid thing to work because Dante doesn't bother to pay his electricity bill!". Trish lifted your chin up and looked into your eyes. "Shouldn't be a problem for me. Let me try something". Trish waved her palm in the air while chanting "Bibbity bobbity fucking boo"  and summoned electricity that gathered at the tip of her fingers. She then shot out a bolt and zapped the microwave.

There was a puff of smoke that soon disappeared to reveal a badly damaged machine that was charred beyond belief. "I think it's cooked now at least..." Trish said sheepishly. As you were starting to calm down you heard banging coming from inside the microwave. "Trish... what did you DO!?" you shouted and to your horror, the door flung open. "WHAT THE FUCK!?" you screamed. Suddenly the pizza was not only alive but aggressive. Just as Trish was about to shoot it, the pizza slung itself like a throwing star and sliced her head clean off. Since Trish was a demon though it would just grow back like a hydra. She groaned and said "talk about my neck, my back, my pussy and my crack! I'm going to kill that thing!".

As Trish began to chase the pizza, Dante had just arrived back home. He took one look at what was going on and went "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?". You informed him of what was happening and soon he was caught up to speed. He stroked his chin hair and said "I think I know why this is happening. You guys know you're not supposed to feed pizza after midnight right?". You slapped your forehead and sighed. "That's from Gremlins Dante GOD DAMN IT!!!" Dante looked surprised and then said "Oh yeah, that name sounds familiar. I think I was drunk when I watched it. Anyway this is probably the work of a demon then." You stared at Dante in disbelief and said "You can't be serious can you?".

"I'm completely serious. And know I have to go stop Trish." You were even more confused now. "Shouldn't you be killing it Dante?". He turned to you and said "Maybe I can reason with it. No one should ever be forced to harm innocent pizza.". A single tear was shed. "Devils do cry I guess." you said and you knew better than to get between Dante and the love of his life (pizza). Just as Dante went to locate Trish a "THAT'S AMORE!" Could be heard within the building. Dante ran as fast a he could but it was too late. The pizza was now deasceasd. R.I.P. (rest in pepperoni).

Dante then cradled the slice and sobbed. "I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE ONE TO FILL YOUR DARK SOUL WITH LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!" he cried out. You took some left over pizza boxes, scissors and glue and returned with a homemade coffin. "It's what he would have wanted." you say. You go outside and start digging. Soon the pizza is burried and you're all embraced in a group hug while Dante is drunk off his ass as he sings kumbaya. At this point Vergil returns home, assesses the situation and then turns to walk away.

[furtiveseal]

What are your predictions for GQuuuuuuX?

Personally, I'm theorizing that Char's spirit/soul/consciousness in some form is in the red Gundam, and that Shuji is actually talking to Char, not the Gundam

Sounds like a plausible theory!

My take on Char, as someone who has seen very little UC stuff, is that if the Red Gundam is still around, then so is he, somewhere in space and/or time. Part of it is the Doylist reasoning that they wouldn't bring him back just to kill him early in the story, he's too important for that. But I'd also be curious to maybe see a fight between Char/Challia and Machu/Shuji? Something about the inventors of the Mav fighting style versus its latest inheritors, pushing the style even further.

GQuuuuuuX's psycommu doesn't seem to be hurting its pilots the way Permet or the Alaya-Vijnana did, so my guess is that it might cause problems by way of melding the minds of nearby psycommu users together over time, possibly blurring the line between Machu and Shuji (for instance) as they fight together and making it dangerous to overuse.

Shuji's whole situation also strikes me as weird, he's living in the sewers like some kind of teenage mutant ninja turtle, despite having what I assume is the most searched for mobile suit in the galaxy, and visibly being used to it and its antics. I don't think he's a refugee, instead I feel like he's some kind of exile or runaway Zeon kid, in some way, shape or form.

Also, it's less of a prediction and more of a wish, but if the GQuuuuuuX has some kind of mechanical teeth it can use to do bite attacks, I'll be happy. It looks like a weird little gremlin, and I have some unfinished business from the Barbatos Lupus Rex.

[sxnii]

Hi, this is for a matchup please :) 1. name: yuno.

2. zodiac sign: sagittarius.

3. mbti: result was between ENTP and ENTJ with 51% P / 49% J.

4. likes: spring, summer, dots and cats, eating, traveling, try new activities/dishes, chill out on the sofa, sometimes play video games (Zelda BOTW and TOTK, Okami, Smash Bros, Life is Strange...), watching movies at the cinema, joking around and teasing people, laughing without any restraint, a nice walk in the countryside. dislikes: noisy people for no reason, brainless people, people walking too slow, rain, autumn.

5. hobbies: writing with people, walking around, eating, going out, cooking, gardening.

6. top 3 ideal traits in a partner (example: love languages, height, personality): words of affirmation + quality time, taller than 175cm, someone smart who likes adventure, always curious, courageous, open minded, loves to discover new places and new things.

7. personality: I love to joke around, travel in different countries, try new dishes because food is very important for me. I'm curious and enjoy to prank and tease others. My loved-ones say I can be blunt and harsh with my words and struggle to empathize with others' problems. Since I don't like ambiguous situations, I despise people who aren't sincere/have hard time with being honest in their intentions. I'm very independent even in a group but when I find a mate with I get along well I stuck with them until the end.

8. preferences (female or male chars): male. Thanks a lot :)

hiii!! hope you r having a good day!! here is the matchup for you!!

Your matchup is: Osamu Miya!!

Because of your love of food and discovery i think osamu is a great match (since he is a chef and owns an onigiri store!!).

Osamu is a libra and an intp, he is a great match with you being a sagittarius and an entp or entj (most likely entp since its 51%).

I think osamu would be pretty open minded due to his mbti being intp (i searched it up pls dont quote me😭🙏). I also think he will be okay with the pranking or teasing since he did grow up with atsumu and that guy is a gremlin😭.

I lowkey think its sweet since you would remind him of atsumu and the miya twins is my roman empire(stopping myself here because from a matchup it might turn into a yap sesh of the miya twins😭)

Since one of ur hobbies is cooking, I think you both would enjoy cooking dates where you try out new recipes to cook!!

He also isnt on the loud side (compared to his twin) and is a pretty chill and laid back guy!

In summary, you both are very compatible and would compliment eachother’s interests well, from your love of discovery and food to chill and quiet moments together!!

——

thats all, i hope you enjoyed ur matchup!! also i might just start a miya twin fan acc because i cant stop yappi about them i might die😭🙏

some pics of my bb (i mean osamu😊) btw

[theonehitwonder]

Okay I know Eberwolf probably won’t be fleshed out in season three, but can you imagine the guilt they must be feeling right now. From their perspective, if they had just gotten stabbed, the draining spell might have been stopped, and the whole collector situation could have been avoided.

And even worse if anyone they knew died in the draining spell, because then they have survivors guilt on top of everything.

Maybe there’s even a bit of resentment towards Darius for saving them, which is just.

Uggggghhh the angst potential.

[littleferal]

Alright lemme try to do this properly.

@jazzelsaur for SHTC and every glorious thing about that fic, including the fact that it brought her into the whorish screeching circle of friendship.

@frannyzooey for TMTC, for Box Set, for Weeknights, for The Fog, for so much more and for being one of the sweetest people I have the privilege of knowing on the internet. 💗

@yespolkadotkitty for her Tovar and her Zach (I remain compromised by "The Man I Chose" and "Make Your Move") and for being a delight of a human being.

@astroboots for being a whore gremlin bucket of sunshine and for the entirety of the Homecoming verse and its gloriously smutty sweetness and yearning.

@alwaysbethewest for being a wonderful person and for writing some of my favorite fics on this webbed site. Every word is glorious and I couldn't pick a single favorite if my life depended on it.

@thirstworldproblemss for being a fellow grumpy old and also delightful person and being largely responsible for throwing me in a pit over Fishben. Between her and Mary I need to file for compensation.

@miceenscene for entirely too many excellent (and gutwrenching) Frankie thots and her continued gremlin friendship over this strange cavalcade of mustaches.

@littleferal yes I'm pinging you again in your own inbox, sue me. Yours were some of the first multi char HCs I read when I fell into this pit, "High Hope" is still one of the softest fics in the fandom, and I am continually grateful for your friendship.

@softanon for being the best haunter of inboxes and source of more delightful thots than I can shake a stick at. Also responsible for Benny feelings.

@iamskyereads for the sweetness that is her domestic Ezra series. I've binged it more times than I should admit and I keep forgetting to give it the reblog and screech it deserves.

@oonajaeadira for the brilliance of both her Calls series "Good. Things. Take. Time." and "A Girl Walks Into A Bookshop". I absolutely lost sleep over the latter, it is wonderful.

@keeper0fthestars for...just everything. Every fic is absolute gold. I mean that 10000%. "Mine" took me out at the knees. "Midnight Cravings & Other Starry-Eyed Confessions" might still be my favorite Frankie fic in existence. So much good stuff.

@the-ginger-hedge-witch for the absolute glory that is Adversity. Thank you for feeding my gunslinger problems and my ever-growing need for more mmf content.

I know there's more people I should shout out, but holiday mush brain has set in. Thank you for your words and your friendship, I love you all. Happy new year. 💗 - L&A

big shout out to some very lovely people from the wonderful @loversandantiheroes 💖

@jazzelsaur for Stars Hit the Ceiling (Frankie Morales x reader x Agent Whiskey)

Frankie wakes from a nightmare. Sometimes he needs you and Jack to help ground him in reality.

@frannyzooey for so many wonderful pieces I'm simply going to list her whole masterlist

@yespolkadotkitty for The Man I Chose (Zach Wellison x f!reader) and Make Your Move (Zach Wellison x f!reader x Macus Pike)

@astroboots for the Homecoming Universe (Frankie Morales x f!reader x Santiago Garcia)

Home is something Santiago Garcia left behind a long time ago. But on a short visit to his hometown, he rediscovers that home is not a place, it’s the people you love.

@alwaysbethewest for her soothing fics, masterlist here

@thirstworldproblemss for bringing us all into the FishBen pit with the Blanket Verse

Being the only woman on a Delta Force team with five men is tough, but having teammates–and best friends–like Frankie Morales and Benny Miller makes things a little easier.

What isn’t easy is hiding the fact that you’re in love with Frankie. (Little do you know, he’s hiding some feelings of his own.) But when a mission gone wrong leaves you naked in bed with both men, there’s nowhere left to hide.

@miceenscene/@miceandpens for swinging with her Frankie thoughts

@ yours truly 🥺 for High Hope (Frankie Morales x f!reader)

Frankie takes care of you during a very low time

@softanon for all her askbox bombing and loving

@iamskyereads for her Domestic Ezra Universe (Ezra x reader)

@oonajaeadira for Good Things Take Time (Pedro from Across the Street x f!reader)

Pedro ATS is a massage therapist with special services. Or so he claims. He gives you a three-hour session you’re both going to enjoy.

AND A Girl Walks into a Bookshop (Ezra x f!reader)

Set a couple of years after the events of the film. Ezra owns a bookshop. You walk in.

more loving for @keeper0fthestars for Mine

Din x Wife!reader. Din cares for you during a bad period day and both of you discover another deep-seated desire about one another.

AND Midnight Cravings & Other Starry-Eyed Confessions

Frankie Morales x f!reader. Frankie trusts you enough to let his guard down, to be vulnerable with you. Love languages and the messy emotions that go along with that, fluff, cheesy self-indulgence. this started out as a series of soft h/c and I have no idea what happened.  3K words later, here we are. A few of you have touched on domestic Frankie in the kitchen and it turns out i’m a sucker for the ‘slow dancing in the kitchen’ trope too.

@the-ginger-hedge-witch for Adversity

Frankie Morales x f!reader x Ezra. A dreamer and a realist make unlikely allies, and that was even before you came along.

[the-nysh]

Which female characters in one punch man are your favorite and why?

The selection is limited, but I've definitely noticed & appreciated the extra effort ONE's put into writing his female characters lately - both in adding more variety with his newer designs (including the wc) and working on fleshing out + humanizing the established ones he already has. All of that is a great plus. (Cause too often in fiction, female chars generally tend to fall flat when they're portrayed as distant or cookie-cutter 'idealized images' of what the -often male- writers perceive them to be, rather than allowing them to actually be relatable flawed people who have the same organic range of aspirations, interpersonal problems, and emotional depth as the males.) Ahem, so I'll admit that early on, none of opm's few women (when we literally only had 2) struck my fancy on what I find appealing/relatable in a character. But that has been steadily changing as ONE's acknowledged where he felt his writing's been lacking and has deliberately chosen to put more work & observation into developing them (ie ever since challenging himself to write Tome as the pov char in REIGEN, I've seen much stronger results even in opm), which I'm very grateful for!

So I'd say the one who's benefited the most from ONE's extra attention so far has been manga Tatsumaki. Whom I can like so much more now compared to her (cold, distant, antagonistic) wc counterpart. Mainly because we've been able to see the full context behind her motivations and what personally drives her feelings, allowing us to sympathize with her dilemma from her perspective. (My favorite panel sequence of injured Tatsu walking away from Fubuki is deliciously bittersweet capturing that sense of familial fondness and sad resignation. Much pain, much angst.) We can feel the extent of how much she takes upon herself (and know why she does so) as both a hero & sister to fiercely protect with a type of love & duty that is both simultaneously noble yet also harmful to herself & others. Like a double-edged sword. Oh how fascinatingly (and tragically) lovely. :') She also gains the Garou parallels in spades (for more flavor) and has been carrying the current arc hard with her specialized abilities. Demonstrating precisely why she's the awesome, active pinnacle of S Class without Blast. Very impressive. Her gremlin form is that extra entertaining cherry on top too. Overall, when it comes to one of opm’s most well-rounded, fully-realized female characters, who’s only gained more enjoyment & appreciation from me over time, I think manga Tatsumaki currently wins this.

...But this could still change! Because I’ve been very proud of wc Fubuki‘s growth already, that I’m still eagerly waiting to witness manga Fubuki gain her equivalent screentime to shine just like Tatsumaki has. (She’s getting very close now, perhaps once she confronts Psykos again.) So at the moment, I still prefer wc Fubuki a little more over her manga counterpart (also the way Murata draws/portrays her as his idealized woman often doesn’t speak/appeal to me when it borders on the unreal. Early Fubuki I also found unrelatable...and fyi even my mother disapproved of her early mindset too.) But it’s in the moments where Fubuki asserts herself vs her sister to grow into a stronger person/hero is what I'm most looking forward to see. Cause we’ve already begun to see shades of that as she improves & steps into her role as a caring -not domineering, and worthy, supportive leader:

That’a girl! :’) But speaking of more good girls, I very much like what we’ve seen from wc Suiko. Who, as one of ONE’s newest creations, probably feels the most ‘real’ to me as a female character in a naturally relatable way. Very good! I enjoy how she’s allowed to be ambitious, disciplined in her craft, prideful & spunky in attitude, yet also feels indignant when others don’t take her worth -compared to her brother- seriously (whoaa how many girls can relate to that), as she introduces a new type of martial arts we hadn’t seen before (drunken fist technique, so she has the potential to claim her fighting niche), and still understandably cries in frustration when she gets in over her head. :’) That, plus the way she still cares for her brother Suiryu, yet challenges & teases him with classic sibling banter is a delight. All this makes for a very refreshing package of a character already, which I can’t wait to see more of (heck, even Murata’s manga couldn’t wait to squeeze in an early cameo of her!)

Runner ups would probably be wc Webigaza and manga Mizuki, who again are great for bringing the extra variety to opm's heroine roster, but I'd love to see more content from them as well. (Which I'm guessing will be more imminent with Webigaza given her relevance tied to the cyborg plot.) Because the more ONE writes them (and of his female chars in general), the better they’ll get~

[cescalr]

Hey. psst. Playlists.

Preamble:

The only ones that preview even a little well are Slime's and Niki's, because they're roughly around the 100 mark (which is really only bc they're unfinished); most have over 200 songs in 'em, so following the link to the full list would be best practise. Fundy's is kind of... bad. Idk him very well yet. But, you know. This stuff takes time. Also, just as a casual, but firm reminder - no rpf, never rpf, fictional characters are not real and it's not immoral to treat improvised fiction as just as fandom-able as fully scripted fiction. Just because the media is gameplay and not television doesn't make it any less valid. Just because the actors aren't professionals doesn't mean they're doing these things in their real lives. Or do you think Tubbo set of actual nukes? C'mon guys. It's been a dacade; mcrp is here to stay. Treat it as you treat Red and Blue, or RWBY, or any other numerous other webseries. Shipping is fine. calm down about it.

(I stated all that because i have character dynamic playlists, some of which are romantically inclined, and a number of the songs within the playlists for individual characters reference canonical or canon-adjacent relations with others of that nature, alongside the platonic and familial. For a second note, no, not all ships are perfectly pure and upstanding. Fiction is fiction. I'm here for an interesting story, not a moral lesson. Make of all this what you will, but I'm not here for fandom bullshit we sorted out years ago in other places. I was there in the yogsmc trenches, and I've heard about what happened in 2019 for the hermitshipping crowd; i know it sucks. I know it's scary that people get really riled up about something that isn't even a problem - but i'm not going to stop doing it. It's fun. It's fiction. None of this relates to the ccs even a little. I am very clear about this. Any references to RPF will be swiftly dealt with. As for characters - do what you will with them. And I'm an angst gremlin who delights in making her blorbos suffer for your catharsis and my own entertainment, so. Keep that in mind. This was probably not explained very well, given it's 3:34 in the morning, but, you know. Not RPF. C != CC. Fictional character shipping is a part of fandom, and it's one i engage in - make of that what you will, but don't be a dick about it, that's unnecessary. This is all for fun and no profit other than my own enjoyment, and hopefully yours too.)

DSMP;

Remember please, to read the descriptions of the lists on Spotify. they don't show on previews embedded. Listener discretion is advised, though alas i couldn't put CWs on the spotify descs, so i'll have to do that here instead, there's still some stuff in those descs that will give context as to why the playlists contain what they do and are set out the way they are. (no, the repeated songs are not accidents - they're on purpose; i'm telling a story. It makes sense when you listen to it in sequence - think of these playlists like concept albums.)

Chars:

Ah, slime. The blorbo. He's got SCU as backstory here, ftr. This is not finished - the SCU section at the front is pretty lacklustre atm, and the ending is kind of abrupt, since im still sorting out the post-finale storyline route i want to go down, and how the hell to tell that through music alone. We'll see how that goes. (If i could make animatics, I damn sure would. I've got Thoughts about post-reset DSMP.)

[CW: Death, Murder, songs of religious trauma, a form of derealisation? i think?]

Oh boy. Schlatt, schlatt schlatt. Where to start with this guy? SCU. That's where to start. He's got SCU as backstory, ignores Tales/Earth for the most part. Need to gather my thoughts and post about them at some point, I suppose, but the long and short of it is minecraft worlds each run on different time scales in parallel, so you can spend a decade on one but bump into your friend a year after they last saw you, so you're 30 when they're 21 even if chronologically speaking they were actually older than you the last you spoke. Timey-wimey multiverse shennanigans - i've always thought this, but ever since Rendog posted his own video about the subject I no longer have to explain it myself, lol, so check out that guy's youtube channel for a much more coherent run-down than I'd ever give. (unless you want mine, feel free to ask in my inbox or ims - we do have different ideas, his are just more solid (mine's more magic, his is more science) and given he's a cc, more likely to spread.) Anyway point being; Schlatt went to university with Wil, but Wil fucked of to a fae world with Sally for a decade to raise Fundy, which makes him and Schlatt out-of-sync. Also, they were in uni in America, which is something Wil is very glad never got out, lol. Fishfucker from utah, goddamn...

adfalskfd anyway, jokes aside; Schlatt is 20-23, estimatable, during the run of the Election arc. I set him at 23 bc of Ghost Stories but it's really more like 21. I have him as SCU Schlatt completely unware of his own prior godhood (and continued godhood, if he'd just, you know, remember). He's an interdimensional demonic godly entity who thinks he's just some wolf/sheep/human hybrid with health problems and an alcohol addiction (not that he'd admit to the latter two, of course.) so, keep that in mind.

Also, the rest? Yeah. Probably not... a good idea to give Schlatt back all the memories he's lost... well. Hopefully he's changed enough, yeah? hehe. >:)

[CW: Some like, religious stuff again, a la slime, Cannibalism, Drugs, Abuse, Alcoholism, Death, Murder.]

Ah yes, Big Q. So. Admittedly, by the count of the playlist, you could very well argue this guy is solidly in blorbo territory. I would have to admit the truth of the matter is just that. This does not, however, mean i get this fucking guy even a little bit, so I'm hoping this is a good playlist but i'm not convinced it is. 400+ songs, though, so there's a lot to chew through here. Covers pre-dsmp headcanons and post-dsmp reset finale au. Tries to keep his canon relationships all referenced but my god is it hard to figure out which were and which weren't. Went for; elaboration on Eret, focus on Karlnapity, Schlackity, and TNTduo. Pretty sure BBQ happened at some point but it's ignored. DapDup is presented here as mostly-platonic, but can be imagined whatever way you would like other than fatherly. Q is 20. Schlatt is 7 million. Q is his mentor, not his dad. They're best friends, they're peers. it's the EmeraldDuo issue all over again (granted a little different, but still). Point being; Slime is older, wiser, and more knowledgable than Q, but his worldview is a lot kinder than Q's when they meet, and what Q is trying to teach him is cynicism. In that, Slime's a novice. So he's the protegee, because Q wants to teach him what he can to keep him safe, and to have a net to fall on for LN's leadership if he's to kick the bucket (which Q is trying to avoid but definitely expects to happen, inevitably.) Anyway, yeah. Quackicle if you like, DapDuo if you don't, basically. (I Intended legacyduo to be platonic or at most queerplatonic, though.)

Q's introduction to the DSMP is as Tommy's fellow drug operation... er, operation-er. So, that's how this playlist starts. My backstory is a bit complicated, so i've left most of it out; suffice to say Q isn't a duck, though he lets people assume that and doesn't correct them, because it's easier that way. I'd be happy to explain more, but it's a hell of a long ramble, so not here.

[CW: Cannibalism, Drugs, Abuse, Alcoholism, Death, Murder.]

Like i said, I don't know fundy as well as i'd like to be making a playlist about him. YMMV on this one.

[CW: Death, Murder.]

Ah, niki. Similar sitch to fundy, hence why their playlists are so much shorter than the others. YMMV, again. Feedback is appreciated, on these, if you'd like to give it. Keep in mind the list's description, as always.

[CW: Death, Murder, implications of depression?]

Wilbur's a funny one, I really don't know.... how to feel about his character. Either way, the playlist exists all the same.

I borrowed a lot of these songs, I'll admit, from animatics and pre-existing playlists based around him. YMMV; feedback appreciated, if you feel like it.

Note: I do not take 'SBI' as a canon thing in the way most do. Philza is his father, Technoblade is a kind of brother figure, but he's not Philza's son, he's his friend/ex-empire-running-partner-in-crimes-against-anarchy, the hypocrites. Tommy is not Philza's son in any respect; Wilbur is a kind of, older-brother-father-figure, while Technoblade is an older-brother-distant-uncle figure, and Philza is just 'Wil's dad' (And, well, Doomsday happens. After that, it's just Philza). I choose personally to ignore some of the canon backstory for Tubbo; he's Tommy's friend first and foremost. This saves some complications later for me with character dynamics - I like nuance and interconnectedness, but it was giving me a headache trying to sort it all out, lol. Tubbo was found in a box - by Tommy, when skiving school. He got folded into Wil and Tommy's little almost-family situation over a period of time, and was never technically adopted by anyone. (Neither, to be fair, was Tommy. I mean, what authority would you ask, anyway? This is the minecraft multiverse. Which England do you go to to sign the papers? How would it even work?). Either way; Wilbur is Philza and Lady Death's son, not the son of a literal smart fridge, because i can kind of sidestep the fishfucking but i can't bring myself to even acknowledge that as more than a joke.

Anyway, yeah. Stop the ramble there; have a listen, if you'd like to.

[CW: Drugs, Abuse, Manipulation, Death, Murder, Terrorism.]

Some notes: Tommy canonically ran some kind of drug operation with Q at the beginning; Wil and Q met through Tommy, not any other way around. I haven't quite reflected that in this, I don't think? it's sort of hard to. I mean, I need to figure out how Tommy and Q even met in the first place, as a point of contention. And, well... because it's just kind of not great to have to put reference to that sort of thing in a playlist for a kid, you know (since he was 16 at the start of all this, then, jeez. When did that all go down, exactly?). Honestly, this playlist isn't great in general. I tried my best, but I don't really know him that well.

I actually kind of like Dad!Schlatt but I'm bored by it being Tubbo, so. You know where I'm going with this one, right? Literal devil child. C'mon. You can't miss out on a pun (of circumstance, no less!) that good. Dad!Schlatt AU with Tommy as the literal devil child in question is taken as headcanon for my version of events. Like I said; i take what i'm given and i run with it, i mess around with it - I tend to ignore fanon and just do my own thing, even if it will inevitably on occasion contradict canon. What can I say? YogsMC was my first mcrp storyline, and that was a whole mess of mostly having to make up everything yourself. I got used to it, and the freedom is too nice a thing to let go of.

This playlist is not kind to Dream, given Exile and murder and all that, but it also doesn't pretend Tommy was some innocent who did nothing wrong. His literal first action was to murder George. Kid's messed up a lot, and is kind of prone to homicide. Keep that in mind. Again, however, being a perpetrator does not stop someone from also being a victim, and Dream 100% victimised Tommy. That's just not a deniable thing. Gaslighting isn't cool, guys. (and, for once, the term actually applies to something it's used to describe. wonders never cease.)

[CW: probable derealisation somewhere in here idk, Abuse, Manipulation, Death, Murder, Terrorism, War, Suicidal Ideation/Attempt.]

Dynamics:

Swinging a bat right out the gate - this is romantically intended pumpkinduo, aka schlackity. You were warned. My dsmp-post-finale-reset AU stuff is very much my own, and veers rather far from given canon. In fact, these playlists do a lot of swerving around the ballasts of canon. I think what i like about stories and tend to damn everything else - fanon included. I make up my own stuff; mileage will vary. I "endgame" pumpkinhusbands, in that sort of way where they're both terrible and should never bring anyone else into this mess and kind of deserve each other, but they're also just fucked up guys trying to get through the shit life they've been saddled with, and end up leaning on each other - a sure thing, if not... the best thing. So. Yk. (And Schlatt is a god with amnesia, but that's a little tangential. Only a little. I take SCU as backstory, and ignore Tales/Earth stuff. YMMV, again.)

Oh, also, i consider their dynamic mutually abusive in the election arc. if that troubles you, then pass on the Q, Schlatt and PHduo playlists. They have an arc in them, but that content warning is required. (Q was physical; schlatt was mental - as in, what they perpetrated. To put it simply; Schlatt used his words. Q literally beat him up when he said no to marriage and then went through with it anyway, without S's consent. That's very much not of the good. Q was a victim, sure, I don't disagree, but he was also a perpetrator. Abuse can be mutual. It's not uncommon, in fact. So, yes. They treat each other like shit, Schlatt dies, Q spirals, etc etc, not exactly a redemption arc but something akin to it, and they try again. Different people. Not worse, not better - just different. Aged. Changed. And it'll work this time, because they want it to. They didn't before, and that's always the failure. Relationships are commitments. They take work. A 19 year old ex drug dealer and a 21 year old alcoholic running a country are really not in the right place for anything like that. Marriage was the worst thing they could've done, and Q forced it on them anyway. Problems, problems. Interesting problems, but I can see the squick. So. Here's all this word jumble for your fair warning.)

[CW: Cannibalism, Drugs, Abuse, Alcoholism, Death, Murder.]

This was not technically romantically intended TNTDuo, but they have at least a canonical history of having sex, so make of it what you will. (Canonically, wilbur is not in love with Q. Obsession is different from love, after all, and I agree with that sentiment if not the truth of the statement itself. Wil's fucked up and complicated, and so thus are his feelings for Q also. Q never quite fell in love with Wil, and quite distinctly fell out of whatever affection he'd managed to gain. They got lust though. they got that in spades. And, like i said - they're obsessive. Bad combo.)

(I don't really like the dapduo name, so sometimes i'll refer to them as legacyduo, interchangably. this is also interpretable as quackicle if you like, but wasn't necessarily intended as such - just as much as it wasn't not intended as such. Ambiguity. >:) )

And, of course, that's all the post will allow me to fit. I've got loads more, though, mostly set to public. Some aren't ready for that yet (less than 5 hours means less than a full arc smh) but, yeah. None of them are DSMP, anyway. There's Yogs, none of which are public yet, Teen Wolf, which are, Harry Potter, some are, Esoteric Fandoms, which all are, Hermitcraft/Empires/Traffic|Life Series, which are currently awaiting publication in their entirety (but i think a few of them, notably pearl, scott, grian - I'm prioritising winners atm - are close). So, yeah. Feel free to peruse at your leisure.

[raysofcrosby]

CHANCES – M. TKACHUK

requested: yes | no

warning(s): none that i can think of.

word count: 5,066

listened to: chances by the backstreet boys

inspiration: mixed luggage au [ i can’t find the og au-prompt masterlist, but if this is your au idea, lemme know and i’ll link you for credit (: ]

authors note: listen– i don’t know what it is, but i’ve literally been on a tkachuk thing lately. like, i used to despise this little curly-headed gremlin, but now??? it’s all hearteyes motherfucker. this is purely a writing to help me get back into the writing groove again after these last six months of nothing– so i might be a lil rusty. anyway, i hope you enjoy <3333

part two | google doc w/ all parts | my masterlist | stuff i have planned | who i’ll write for | requests

I’m sorry Y/N, but if you’re not here in the next 5 minutes I need to keep going.

That text haunted you– it was all you could think about the moment you got off of your flight. The uber your sister had ordered for you was close to canceling– all because there were too many planes taxiing on the airstrip and your stupid flight ended up circling in the air for thirty minutes. If this were any other airport, no doubt you’d be screwed. Luckily though, you knew good ole St. Louis Lambert International like the back of your hand. So getting from point A to point luggage claim would be no problem at all. The only delay would be the luggage getting put out onto the carousel.

Which of course, did prove to be the problem at hand.

You were the first one from your flight at the carousel and hoped to be gone before any disgruntled passengers you managed to bump into, could show up. Unfortunately for you, just as the bags were being loaded onto the carousel, your fellow passengers were arriving too– more than a few giving you a look that would normally result in you rolling your eyes in response. Yet, your focus wasn’t on them, it was glued to the small carousel door, keeping an eye out for your suitcase.

Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey hand–

“Ah-ha!” You smiled, catching eye of your suitcase and rushing to meet it instead of letting it eventually make its way to you. You grabbed the suitcase and extended the handle to drag it away, already walking towards the exit.

One minute.

You had one minute to catch your uber before they left you and you hoped and prayed that luck was on your side and the black Toyota Corolla just happened to be parked near the door you chose to exit from. The warm summer air of the Missouri summer weather practically smacked you in the face and it fit wasn’t for the awning covering the pick-up zone, you would have no doubt been blinded by the sun too.

“Oh, thank God,” you sighed, catching sight of a black Toyota Corolla that your sister said to find, parked just six cars down to your left. You sped walked to the uber, coming to a stop at the window and waving at the driver, catching her attention. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late.”

The woman, probably in her early 60’s gave you a friendly smile instead of the scowl you were expecting. “Are you Y/N?”

“Yes ma’am,” you replied, nodding.

“Go ahead and put your suitcase in the trunk, it’s opened for you.”

You walked to the trunk and lifted it open, placing your suitcase inside before closing it and walking to the back passenger door, getting into the backseat. “Again, I’m so sorry for making you wait. We had to circle in the air for 30 minutes because of the traffic on the airstrip and,” you exhaled, relaxing back into your seat. “I’m so sorry.”

She laughed, pulling away from the airport. “It’s no problem sweetheart. I saw your reply. I was going to give you a little extra time. I know how hectic airports could be. Especially this time of the year. Everyone’s traveling for vacation.”

“Yeah, I think I might have accidentally elbowed one too many people trying to get to luggage claim.”

“Are you visiting or coming home?”

“Coming home…kind of,” you laughed, staring out the window at your hometown. “I actually just graduated from college a few weeks ago, so my roommates and I rented a house on the Jersey Shore to celebrate. But, my sister is getting married tomorrow, so that’s why I’m back.” You looked back towards her, laughing softly to yourself. “But then come September, I’ll actually be moving to Calgary for a new job and to get my Masters.”

“So a lot of traveling, I see.”

You took a deep breath and sighed, nodding. “Yeah, but I’m glad to be able to spend all of this time with my friends and family before I start working. Especially since I’ll be moving so far away.”

“It sounds like a great time,” she smiled, looking at me through the rearview mirror. “I’m a sucker for weddings, why don’t you tell me about it?”

Normally, you weren’t one to talk a lot whenever you and your friends would take Ubers downtown on the weekends– but this driver was sweet and you found yourself talking nonstop as she drove you towards your final destination. After all, she didn’t abandon you at the airport like you thought she would.

~

The car ride to your parents' place went by a lot faster than you thought it would and it was all thanks to Mrs. Sheila, your lovely uber driver. Whom, you learned, started driving after she lost her husband late last year. Her kids lived out of state and once they went back home after those first few weeks, she wanted to find something to do to keep herself busy and get herself out of the house– so, she became an uber driver.

Walking into your parents' house, you were greeted with empty echos of your footsteps. Your parents were still at work and wouldn’t be home until just a little before the rehearsal dinner tonight. Your brother, well, as far as you knew, he had absolutely nothing going on, so you didn’t know why he wasn’t around. If anyone was guaranteed to be home, it was your sister. She was the one who ordered your uber and had them take you here, so she was more than well aware of what time you’d be arriving home.

“Hello?” You called out, leaving your suitcase by the door and making your way to the living room. “Char, are you here?”

“Is that my favorite sister?” You heard her voice call out from upstairs. Looking up, you could see her rounding the hallway corner, carrying a closed laundry basket full of, no doubt, stuff for tonight’s bridal party sleepover.

“I’m your only sister,” you laughed as she made her way down the staircase.

“Unless you count all of the times we got bored and turned Nick into Nikki,” she giggled, reaching the end of the staircase and putting the basket down before stepping forward and hugging you. “How was the flight?”

“It was great up until our 30 minutes of circling in the air,” you laughed, pulling away from the hug. “Where’s my dear brother?”

“Working out with some friends. We probably won’t see him until tonight.”

“Nothing says welcome home like being greeted to an empty house.”

“Excuse you, I was here to greet you.” She laughed, picking the basket back up. “But if you really want to be upset, you should see all of the packed boxes in your room.”

“I leave in three months! Why are they packing me up now?” You gasped, acting dramatically.

“Nick and dad are planning on transforming it into some kind of training room or something.”

“But they–“

“Already took over the garage? Yeah, I know and mom is pissed.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the handle of your suitcase again. “He literally told the Blues that he was going back to Michigan in the fall to try and win a championship. Why the hell are they even treating him like he’s already a hall of famer?”

“Perks of being the youngest, not to mention dad’s only son,” she laughed, looking at the door. “Ready to head to the Airbnb?”

“Can we get food first?” You asked, dragging your suitcase along. “I’m starving.”

She laughed as you held the door open for her. “Good, because we’re most definitely getting food before we go and take a nap.”

You laughed, walking out of the house with her and then closing and locking the door behind you. “I knew we were related.”

~

Lunch and a nap turned out to be exactly what you needed. The two of you had stopped at a subway to get some food before driving over to the Airbnb that you, your sister and the rest of the bridesmaids would be staying for the night.

It was a beautiful three-bedroom, modernized cottage that looked like it was stripped directly from the pages of a fairytale book. It was tucked away, just off to the side in the backyard of a beautiful colonial house, whose farm would tomorrow be transformed into a whimsical fairytale wedding location. The men would be getting ready in the house, while the women would be getting ready in the cute cottage. Sort of like a secret getaway paradise before the wedding.

When you got back with your food, your sister took you on a tour of the property while the wedding planners and staff were setting up all of the bigger decorations for tomorrow. You were off at school during the entire planning process, only ever seeing every one of her ideas in pictures. The only things you were able to take part in, were the dress shopping and her bachelorette party since they were both held at a time you were on a fall break from school. Besides being there for those two things, the only other thing you helped with– was the proposal.

Colton has been in your life for as long as you could remember. He and Charlotte have been best friends since Pre-K. It was the cliché friends to lovers kind of story that was told time after time– but in theirs, there were no other people in it. It was just them. There were no other boyfriends or girlfriends, no other crushes– from the very beginning, they were it for each other. They were each other's first everything– kiss, date, girlfriend/boyfriend, time– in their love story, they had found their one great love…all before they turned five.

Wherever Charlotte was, there was Colton– they were stuck like glue and your parents loved it. It was their friendship that brought both of your families together to the relationship that you all had now. Your families were best friends, all because of their relationship. You often took vacations together, spent holidays together, hell, you and Colton’s middle brother, Mason, even had joint birthday parties– as did your two younger siblings, Nick and Addie. Your families even try to go as far as to dropping hints that all three kids should date.

Colton and Charlotte. You and Mason. Nick and Addie– all the same age and practically family already.

It was perfect.

Until you and Mason tried to date in the tenth-grade and realized that kissing the person you’ve shared every birthday party with, used to take baths with and shared every key moment growing up– wasn’t all that great. In fact, it was weird. So the two of you remained as the almost black sheep of the families, especially since Nick and Addie were headed down the same path as Charlotte and Colton. They started dating in eighth-grade– like Colton and Charlotte– and have maintained a healthy and strong relationship to now, even long-distance, when they’ll both be sophomores in college in the fall, Addie at the University of Missouri and Nick playing hockey at the University of Michigan.

You and Mason were there, always making jokes about how it runs in the family but skipped a generation. Never letting your siblings live it down that the two of you will be the ones to break the cycle. Funny how you two were also the ones who played the biggest roles in Charlotte’s engagement.

Both of your dads are huge St. Louis Blues fans. So naturally, they tried to rub that off onto their children. And it worked, all except for you. You tolerated the blues, but never really adopted hockey as your favorite sport. You understood it, watched it whenever you never had a choice– but like your mom, you gravitated more towards football and adopted her hometown team as your own– the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Colton and Charlotte, however, were both diehard Blues fans from day one. There were even pictures to prove it. They even went to a game on both their first ‘supervised’ date and ‘unsupervised’ date. So, when the Blues were making a run for the Stanley Cup– it was imminent for your families to attend at least one game. You and Mason did everything in your power to get the Blues attention. You emailed anyone and everyone who worked in their front office, you spammed their social media accounts– anything and everything to get their attention so you could share their story and Colton’s plan.

And at game four it all came to life. Charlotte was ‘randomly’ selected to participate in an intermission event after the first period where she’d be blindfolded and needed to walk along the ice to find Louie after collecting ‘Blues momentos’ along the way. The Blues had played the short slideshow of Colton and Charlotte that you and Mason had sent them, as they introduced her to the crowd. Unbeknownst to her, both of our families were on the ice with her, standing behind her while she was blindfolded. You and the other three siblings were scattered in front of her, each holding a single rose.

The Blues staff member helped her walk along the ice and the moment that she took a flower from someone, they needed to go back to where she started, which was where Colton was standing with the ring in his pocket. The four of you each had a sign, that when held up together read ‘Will you marry me?’ Once Charlotte neared Louie, he cut the distance to just by center ice where all of you were waiting. And when she found Louie, the entire crowd had erupted into cheers as she took off her blindfold, all smiles until she turned around to see the signs and Colton on one knee.

She said yes. The Blues won. The proposal went viral and your families were given a box to game seven where the Blues won the Stanley Cup.

All in a day's work between the two middle siblings, and one that led you all to this moment– the wedding tomorrow. Where Colton, who was already like a big brother yo you, would officially, pretty much become your big brother.

“Y/N,” your sister said, shaking your arm. “Y/N, get up. We’ve got like 45 minutes to get ready for dinner before we have to leave and no offense, but you need to shower.”

“Your lucky that you’re getting married tomorrow or I’d kill you,” you mumbled into the pillow, taking a deep breath and exhaling before pushing yourself up. “Can you charge my phone for me? I won’t take too long, just need to rinse off and I’ll be back.”

“In your backpack?” She asked as you walked out of the room.

“Mhhm, small front pocket. The charger is with it.”

You walked out of the room and into the connected bathroom, closing the door behind you before walking towards the shower and turning on the water. Your nap was more than enough to help you make it through dinner. You hadn’t thought that you were even that tired, but the moment you laid down to relax after eating your sandwich– you were absolutely knocked out.

To be fair though, you had spent the last two weeks partying it up on the beach with your college roommates, trying to relive every moment from your last four years of partying, downing booze, and making out with any attractive guy who caught your eye. You know what they say, no rest for the wicked– and boy, oh boy, were the wicked actions of shotgunning beers with strangers in the hot summer jersey sun, coming back to haunt you.

At least you got one hell of a tan and more memories to last you a lifetime, out of it all.

You turned off the shower before you stepped out and wrapped a towel around your body, then wrapping your hair up in a second towel. You walked out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom, only to find it empty. "Hey, Char?"

"In the living room...er, kitchen, I guess!"

You walked out of the bedroom and into the living room to see Charlotte sitting at the kitchen counter, a make-up mirror propped up in front of her and hot curling iron in her hand. "Why are you doing your hair in the kitchen?"

"You were in the bathroom and the lighting is lacking in the bedroom." She let a curl, fall from the iron and turned to you. "What's up?"

"Well, for one, the bathroom is free," you laughed, looking around. "And two, I was wondering where you put my suitcase? It was in the room and now it's not."

"No," she dragged out her reply, focusing on wrapping another piece of hair around the iron before averting her eyes towards the door. "You left it by the front door. Never brought it in."

You turned towards the front door and sure enough, right there not even three feet away from the door...was your suitcase. "Awesome, thanks!" You said, walking over and tugging on the handle, extending it out before walking back to the room. "And my phone?"

"Charging in the kitchen. It was dead by the way."

"Great," you huffed, walking into the bedroom and over to the bed. You lifted up the suitcase, letting it plop down onto the bed and exhaled a deep breath. It was a lot heavier than you thought it was. But maybe your body was just tired from traveling and last night's final night out.

You caught a glimpse of the alarm clock that was set up on the bedside table and saw that your getting ready time was vastly starting to dwindle. So, not thinking anything more of the heavy suitcase, you unzipped the zipper and threw the cover back, ready to grab the romper you had placed directly on top, just so it wouldn't get wrinkled. You stared down at the contents of the suitcase, quickly grabbing the cover and shutting it again.

Okay, maybe you were imagining things.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling, and then opening your eyes and opening the suitcase again.

No, you definitely weren't imagining things.

The same spike ball netting was still staring you right in the face. Surrounding it, were three spike balls and a crumbled up bag that was supposed to house the set. Beneath it, a bunch of crumpled up clothes and other things.

"No," you shut the suitcase again, repeating the same steps: close your eyes, take a breath, hope you're dreaming, open your eyes and then the suitcase, only to be disappointed. "No, no– oh my God, this can't be happening. Charlotte!!"

You heard her footsteps echo off of the wooden floor as she made her way to the bedroom, half of her hair curled and set. "What?"

"This isn't my suitcase."

"Of course it is," she scoffed. "Colton and I got you that big traveling set for graduation, and that," she pointed at the suitcase, "is it."

"No, it's not," You opened the suitcase and reached in, grabbing the first thing you felt and holding it up to show her. "See? Not mine!"

"Y/N," her eyes widened before she started to laugh. "You might want to put those down."

"It's just the spike ball bag, it's not big–" you turned to see what you were holding and sure enough, it was not the spike ball bag you thought you had picked up. It was a pair of Ant-Man boxers, and it was unknown whether or not they were clean or not. "Ah, ew!" You tossed them back into the suitcase, wiping your hand on your towel. "Ew, ew, ew, I just touched a stranger's dirty underwear."

"You don't know if they were dirty."

"You don't know if they were clean!" You argued back, looking around the handle for an identification tag. "This definitely isn't mine. My travel tag isn't on the handle."

"Who uses a travel tag?" She laughed, shaking her head.

"Me," you turned towards the suitcase, slamming it shut and zipping it. "I use a travel tag, so if my luggage gets lost or switched, they can contact me. It's common travel knowledge."

She sighed, walking over towards the suitcase and unzipping the two pockets on top, looking in and shaking her head. "Nothing hidden in those pockets. Did you think to go through the rest of the suitcase? Maybe they have a tag in there."

"And risk touching another pair of possibly dirty boxers and God knows what else? No thanks," you zipped up the suitcase and picked it up, placing it back onto the ground. "I'm doomed. That suitcase had all of the clothes that I took to Jersey, in it. It had my outfit and makeup for tonight."

"I have something you can borrow," she walked over to the closet, opening it to reveal it was empty besides two dresses hanging up. "And I've got make-up and whatever your little heart desires for your hair."

"Your wedding present was in there too," you sighed, walking over to the closet. "Which one?"

"This." She held out the rose-colored dress, handing the hanger to you. "You can get away with no bra and I can give you a pair of underwear from the new pack I bought this morning–"

"Why would you buy new underwear?" You asked, taking the dress.

"In case of emergencies," she closed the closet and turned back to you, nodding. "Which, this is. Unopened pack in that laundry basket I was carrying, feel free to take a pair and keep them. As for shoes...you're kind of on your own on that one."

You sighed, defeated as she walked out of the bedroom, leaving you to get dressed. You unwrapped the towel around your hair, letting it drop onto the floor as the towel wrapped around your body went with it. You took the dress off of the hanger and untied the straps, lifting the dress over your head and tugging it down. Your mind was going over every detail of just how you picked up the wrong suitcase. Fair, it was a dead-ringer for the suitcase you took with you to Jersey, but even you should have known to realize that there was no bright red luggage tag hanging on the side handle. And it was all you could do but hope that whoever picked up your suitcase thinking it was theirs, would at least call or text.

"Oh shit," you said, holding onto the straps that hung down on the side, trying to tie them in the back. "Charlotte! My phone!"

You ran out into the living room to see her now finishing up her make-up at the counter, turning to you with wide eyes. "Okay one, sit down and let me brush your hair," she stood up and grabbed your wrist, bringing you over to counter and sitting you down. "And two, your phone is right there."

"If they figured out our luggage was switched, they'd call! My luggage tag!" You reached across the counter, grabbing your phone and turning it over to see that the screen was still black. "Oh come on, my phone wasn't that dead!"

Charlotte tugged you back and started to brush your hair, not bothering to go slow. "I plugged it in the moment you went to take a shower, just give it a few seconds."

If looks could kill, your phone would be nowhere ready to turn on. You were glaring at the screen as if pure intimidation would turn it on. This could go one of two ways:

1) This person left your suitcase in the dark abyss that is lost luggage at the airport.

or

2) Like you, they didn't realize that they had grabbed the wrong luggage until they went to open it and they'll find your luggage tag and call you.

"Ah!" You yelled, jumping out of the chair as your phone lit up. You leaned over the counter, your heart racing as Charlotte tried to keep brushing your hair. "Come on, come on, come on..."

"Right there," Charlotte said, pointing at your screen as a text message notification popped up on the screen from an unknown number. "That has to be them!"

"Oh thank God," you sighed, thumb ready to swipe the message open. "Oh...yikes."

"Uh," Charlotte laughed as the two of you continued to watch your messages pour in, at least 5 coming in from the unknown number, along with three phone calls. "Yikes indeed, I guess they're panicking just as much as you are."

You swiped on the notifications, unlocking your phone, and going to the message.

unknown: hi y/n i think you grabbed the wrong suitcase...

unknown: yeah, uh, you most definitely grabbed the wrong suitcase.

unknown: is there any way we can switch in the next 30 minutes before i reach my house?

unknown: ok, so i'm sorry for the spam texts and calls...but this is kind of urgent.

unknown: like life or death.

"Life or death?" Charlotte asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell was in that suitcase?"

"Spike ball and dirty clothes," you replied, shrugging. Your eyes went wide before you turned back to her. "What if they're a drug smuggler and there are drugs in there?"

She opened her mouth to speak before looking down at your phone, nodding. "Now's your chance to find out. Look who's calling."

You looked back down at your phone to see the unknown number flash on your screen. You looked back at her, shaking your head. "You answer it."

"Your luggage, you answer it," she laughed, pulling back segments of your hair to tie back. "But put it on speaker, I'm curious what the drug dealer sounds like."

You shoved your elbow back, avoiding her as you nervously slid your thumb across the screen, answering the call and pressing the speaker button. "Hello?"

"Oh thank God," the unknown called sighed, clearing his throat. "Sorry for the spam calls, I've just been panicking."

"Yeah, I’m sorry...my phone died," you replied, looking at Charlotte as your voice dwindled off.

"The suitcase," she mouthed, nodding her head back towards the room.

"Oh, the suitcase!" You said, almost a little too excited. You cleared your throat, calming yourself down. "I most definitely have your suitcase...maybe."

"Well I have yours," you could hear rustling in the background. "Y/N L/N, right?"

"Yep, that's me," you looked at Charlotte again, shaking your head. "Sorry to kind of do this...but how do I know I have your suitcase? I mean, what if I grabbed someone else's and you grabbed mine and there's three of us in this and–"

Charlotte smacked your back lightly with the back of the brushed, shaking her head as the voice on the other side of the phone laughed. "Um, shit," he coughed, smacking his lips. "Uh well, there should be a spike ball set in there. If not, then I left it at Johnny's. Otherwise, it's just clothes."

"Congratulations," you laughed, leaning back into the chair. "I've got your suitcase."

"Oh thank God, I was really worried there for a second," they replied. "Is there any chance we can exchange them soon?"

"Okay, so about that," you sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. "I kind of have a wedding rehearsal and dinner to go to in 20 minutes...and I don't think that will be over with till about...two hours from now. Is that okay?"

There was silence on the other side and you couldn't help but feel horrible at the fact that you were keeping this stranger away from his luggage and that he had to keep yours until then. "My family and I are going to dinner in two hours, reservation and all."

"Where at?" You spoke before your brain could even catch up with what your mouth was doing. "I'm sorry that was creepy."

He laughed and you felt a little flutter feeling in your stomach. "No, it's fine. I think we're going to Maggiano's in–"

"In the Westfield town center?" Your eyes widened as Charlotte placed the brush down on the counter behind you, looking at you with a smile. "We're going to Pieology in the Westfield town center!"

"Pieology for a wedding rehearsal dinner? Sounds like my kind of party," he laughed. "So, do you just want to exchange then? When I get there and you're leaving?"

"Sounds perfect!"

"Great! So I'll just, text you when I get there and I promise I won't forget the suitcase."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

"All right, bye, Y/N!"

"Bye!" You hung up the call and Charlotte leaned against the counter a smile on her face. "What?"

"He sounded cute." She stuck placed the extra bobby pins she didn't need, onto the counter. "Maybe he can be your date for my wedding."

"Not this again," you groaned, getting out of the chair. "For the last time, I don't need a date. Besides, this guy is a total stranger– I don't even know his name!"

"You can learn it later," she laughed, wiggling her eyebrows. "Either way, do your makeup quickly because we need to leave in ten."

She walked off towards the bedroom the two of you had claimed and you sighed, sitting back down into your seat, grabbing her mascara, blush, and golden liquid shimmer eyeshadow. It was the best you could do for now, until you got all of your stuff back from this stranger. As you applied the eyeshadow, you couldn't get Charlotte's comment out of your head. She was right, he did sound cute. But who's to say that he's not a total creep? Or that he's even your age? He could be in his 40's or even barely cruising 18. And then stood the real issue, you didn't even know his name.

Your phone screen lit up once again and you looked away from the mirror, seeing that you had another text from the unknown number. You furrowed your eyebrows and unlocked your phone, opening his text.

unknown: my name is matt, by the way 😊

[renegadeknucks]

posting these guys just so I have them

brief descriptions below

1. S'mores Cookie and Campfire Kitty

uses any pronouns

Sheeptaur. has ties with both Dark Enchantress and Pomegranate Cookie. She's one of DE's best pupils. His biggest goal is to someday overtake Dark Enchantress, but it knows just how strong DE is and doesn't want to end up dying. "Cause problems on purpose" cookie. Campfire Kitty is based on the fact a lot of villains have a cat they pet during meetings.

2. Selkie Cookie and Seal Chow

uses they/she pronouns

To put it simply? A gremlin. They're known to steal from pirate ships and sea side stalls/vendors then turning into a cute seal to flee the scene. They're completely able to speak, however very much enjoys yipping VERY loudly and pretending she doesn't understand what anyone's saying.

Seal Chow's bite mark is from Selkie. If it weren't for them, Selkie would've starved to death.

3. Sea Urchin Cookie and Stylish/Funky Lil' Urchin

uses it/they/he pronouns

Hardly anyone knows they exist. At a young age, it was adopted by Matcha. Was incredibly sweet as a child, however being abandoned young and taken in by Matcha ruined any chance of being a hero. DE had began raising them, saying Matcha was terrible at raising him. Sea Urchin is ruthless, DE levels of evil. Awful punishment from Pomegranate had a devestating toll on their mind.

Stylish/Funky Lil' Urchin is the one good thing left in its world, Sea Urchin can and will kill if their sweet boy was harmed.

4. Cactus Cookie and Prickle Berry Bat

uses she/they pronouns

Typically a very calm and laid back kind of cookie, however deep down she's incredibly anxious and probably needs to be checked on. She loves being portrayed as a "bad girl", looking and acting like a biker. She however, has never actually touched a motorcycle and is too afraid to ask Kiwi to ride theirs.

Prickle Pear Bat is an absolute angel, the collar being added after the two met.

5. Cactus' fixed design and her standing next to her lovely royal girlfriend

Prickle Pear Bat and Creamsicle Hummingbird hate eachother, that's why they're not shown.

6. Royal Icing Cookie and Creamsicle Hummingbird

uses she/her pronouns

A princess in training, the heir to the throne. She is a sweetheart, a kind soul with a secret interest for the dark arts. She practices them while alone, not enough to be noticed by Dark Enchantress, but enough to stain her hands an inky black after a spell went wrong. She's never shown a soul these marks, hiding them with gloves. Not even Cactus knows.

Creamsicle Hummingbird looks sweet, is not. An absolute menace and tries to see how far they can go before Royal Icing does something about them.

7. Parrot Cookie and Beaten Bird Bell

uses she/they/he pronouns

A lone wolf. Has a crew of various species of birds. She spent years alone in an attempt to find themselves, creating an excitable yet introverted cookie. Tends to go overboard when he enjoys things. Being a parrot (Scarlet Macaw specifically) gives her a very snappy temper, quick to raise her voice when no one's listening, can and will bite you. (she's bitten Pirate) Dating Captain Ice.

Beaten Bird Bell is exactly what he looks like. A bird toy. Parrot just wants to find a person to fix him and bring back his ringing noise.

8. Starlette Lily Cookie and Musical Burn Plant

uses they/them pronouns

Once a strong warrior, now weak and afraid. Pomegranate Snake, a cake monster, had a goal of corruption. A cursed pomegranate has been bound to Starlette, draining their life force. The only way to reverse this is to become a cookie of darkness, but they'll forever stay loyal to Lily Village.

Half their body is permanently burnt/charred after a fire.

Pomegranate Snake was supposed to watch the curse take place, instead growing attached when Starlette began taking care of them. Pomegranate Snake regrets cursing them.

Musical Burn Plant was the only thing that soothed Starlette's burns, and they've been together since. They're in pain, their cracking pot hurts, and it's Pomegranate Snake's fault.

[pikahlua]

00. Complete Works Index (Alphabetized A-M)

**If a post contains manga spoilers, I will indicate in the title what is the latest chapter spoiled by the post.

A

AFO brain trauma theory (chapter 287)

(AFO brain...) Follow Up: AFO’s heart exists inside OFA (chapter 311)

(AFO brain...) Follow Up: Izuku the vessel and AFO/OFA endpoints (chapter 316)

AFO is a bastard and we’re all on the train to Pain City ;D (chapter 318)

AFO’s Master Plan: Izuku’s rage will be his downfall (chapter 318)

All For One is Hisashi Midoriya, and the story is going to intentionally, unironically treat it as a joke (chapter 293)

All For One’s hairstyle suspiciously matches Izuku’s

All For One’s long-term goal (chapter 337)

All Might and Katsuki’s college lecturer/TA relationship dynamic (chapter 295)

All Might is gonna get kidnapped (chapter 320)

All Might vs Inko Midoriya (S03E12)

All Might’s blind spots with Izuku and Katsuki (chapter 320)

All Might will live

Always Right

Always Winning

Answering questions about WHM action sequences with vague rumors I’ve heard

Aoyama cheese symbolism (chapter 337)

Aoyama wrong about AFO not stonks (chapter 343)

B

Bak-u-go headcanon discussion for fun (chapter 310)

Bakugou is a utilitarian

Bakugou & Uraraka/All Might & Aizawa linguistics

Big Bro Katsuki (light novel #6 cover)

Bineta vibin’ (chapter 327)

“BKDK talk” is just another name for DvK3 (chapter 342)

Boss Music Danger Sense AU (chapter 295)

But can I connect chapter 350 to Katsuki Bakugou?

C

Chapter 277: The nuance of "Sorry. You’re not on my radar anymore.”

Chapter 284 Translation Notes

Chapter 284 Translation Notes Clarification

Chapter 302 Translation Notes

Chapter 310 Translation Notes

Chapter 318: “He’s here, bastards” vs “Guys, I found him”

Chapter 319 is so damn confusing I’m all over the place on this

Chapter 319: This doesn’t pass the sniff test

Chapter 322: “We know” vs “I know”

Chapter 327: Izuku Kanji vs. Kana Discussion

Chapter 341 Translation Notes (first six pages)

Chapter 342: “Hard pass on the dirty talk”

Characters with puntastic names

Class 1-A general speech patterns

Class 1-B general speech patterns (partial)

Compatibility between Katsuki’s and Ochako’s quirks

Conspicuous Chekhov’s guns leading into chapter 320 (chapter 319)

(Conspicuous...) Follow Up: Katsuki knows who can reach Izuku right now (chapter 319)

Convincing evidence everything in MHA is about to go to shit RE: chapter 318

Covert Himbo Shouto Todoroki

D

Dadzawa loves his problem son (chapter 307)

Dekuneta Forbidden Love (chapter 342)

Details to keep in mind going into the final arc (chapter 343)

Detective Katsuki Bakugou figures out the secret of OFA: A Picture Book

Did Shouto dig up the family grave? (chapter 351)

Dive into the gremlin brain (chapter 337)

Dost thou even ship, bro?

E

Every emotion on Katsuki’s face in Heroes Rising but with new, heartbreaking context (chapter 322)

Everything that happened in Katsuki Bakugo Rising was heavily foreshadowed early on and staring us dead in the face P.S. Horikoshi is laughing madly at us: A Picture-Book Essay (chapter 286)

Evidence that All For One is Hisashi Midoriya (chapter 310)

F

Fanfic: Dragonheart Chapter 1

Fanfic: Dragonheart Chapter 2

Fanfic: Dragonheart Chapter 3

Fanfic: Dragonheart Meme: Fifteen minutes with Katsuki Bakugou (chapter 2)

Fanfic: Dragonheart Meme: Katsuki and the Fourth Wall (chapter 1)

Fanfic: Dragonheart Meme: Soul Bond tag for our resident human meteors (chapter 1)

Fanfic: Dragonheart Meme: The Katsuki is self-aware (chapter 1)

Fanfic: Dragonheart Meme: Whatcha got there, Deku? (chapter 1)

Finding meaning in Kirishima’s roots growing out (chapter 322)

Foreshadowing: Is Hagakure free of sus? (chapter 336)

Fridge logic: Aizawa could have killed AFO

G

Ground Beta is right there... (chapter 322)

H

Hero society is broken (chapter 316)

Hetero chapter was gay (chapter 342)

Hisashi Midoriya could just be an incidental side character

Horikoshi mansplaining Aoyama to Pikahlua (chapter 336)

Horikoshi’s penchant for references (chapter 314)

Horikoshi’s unrealistic depictions of romance or something (chapter 322)

Hot Take: Star(s) and Stripe(s) is NOT gonna lose her quirk *and* she’s NOT gonna die (chapter 329)

How am I right about everything?

How I Meta meme

How many times do I gotta say it? Katsuki parallels Tomura (chapter 345)

How was OFA passed down the first time? (chapter 310)

How would Katsuki react to Izuku dying or becoming a villain?

How you feelin rn? (chapter 303)

I

I already knew that AFO’s focused on Izuku now (chapter 316)

I am going to create a meta that has so many screenshots

I am once again asking for your red capes

“I didn’t know you write”

If I had a nickel for every chance I’ve had to use this specific meme image... (chapter 341)

“If that dumbass dies, I’ll kill him” (chapter 298)

I like Izuku Midoriya

I’m not in it for the live action

In Defense of Swiss Cheese

Incomplete list of Katsuki’s unresolved plot lines, character arcs, and foreshadowing (chapter 310)

Inko’s feelings about Izuku's responsibilities (chapter 309)

In THIS economy? (chapter 343)

Is Bakugou narrating? (chapter 348)

Is Deku gonna get kidnapped? (chapter 297)

I’ve Cracked the Code: Class 1-A is One For All (chapter 320)

I’ve only had the Second for a day and a half... (chapter 310)

Izuku absolutely notices Katsuki’s flaws

(Izuku absolutely...) Follow-up: What Izuku sees in Katsuki (and other heroes) (warning: vague references to chapter 319)

Izuku is NOT avoiding Katsuki (chapter 342)

Izuku Midoriya, the Unreliable Narrator (chapter 297)

Izuku’s Admiration: All Might vs Katsuki Bakugou

Izuku’s Image of Victory (S03E23)

J

Just thinking about bugs (chapter 317)

K

Kacchan’s Umbrella Dance aka my magnum opus

Katsuki and Mitsuki Bakugou (chapter 306, spoilers easily skippable)

(Katsuki and Mitsuki...) Katsuki’s public image vs. the media

Katsuki Bakugou needs hand-warmers (chapter 316)

Katsuki Bakugou Rising: How was he going to finish that sentence? (chapter 304)

Katsuki Bakugou: Surpass the pro (society) (chapter 314)

Katsuki Bakugou swears a lot(?)

Katsuki Bakugou’s True Feelings: The Power of Friendship...as it beats your ass into the ground (chapter 320)

Katsuki just realized that Izuku just realized AFO is an idiot and it’s hilarious because Dabi knows it too but rather than say anything he’s gonna be a petty fucker, sit back, and watch *Can’t Stop Twinkling* fucking destroy AFO and I will never stop laughing about it: A Picture-Book Essay (chapter 337)

Katsuki’s Answer: Even if One For All is a cursed power... (chapter 322)

Katsuki’s Apology Deep Dive (chapter 322)

Katsuki’s awkward hoodie (movie 3)

Katsuki’s gonna let class 1-A finish but... (chapter 320)

Katsuki’s Hero Name: Katsuki is so 👏 damn 👏 extra 👏 (chapter 293)

Katsuki’s Hero Name: They don’t know it’s “daibakusasshin” (chapter 293)

Katsuki’s Heroic Character Arc for Dummies (chapter 322)

(Katsuki’s Heroic Character Arc...) Follow Up: I am a Mature Person

Katsuki’s “Image of Rescue”: Deep Blue Meta Dive (chapter 284)

Katsuki’s perspective on Izuku since childhood

L

Lady Nagant overhype (chapter 315)

Link to “Ame ni mo Makezu” (chapter 320)

Logically working out a dying Katsuki’s priorities while sobbing (chapter 322)

M

MHA Endgame Bingo (chapter 343)

Mineta fell in love with Izuku? (chapter 321)

My initial reaction to MHA chapter 322 (chapter 322)

My meta sucks (chapter 319)

My Top Posts in 2021

N

Narrative problems with the DFO theory (chapter 295)

Nega-Kacchan (chapter 350)

No more quirks? (chapter 316)

O

Observing my character development via tag evolution (chapter 322)

Ochako Uraraka may become more than just a love interest soon (chapter 322)

OFA Body Horror

OFA Burnout Math (chapter 304)

OFA 2nd User kanji/word choice (chapter 310)

Oh hi Star (chapter 330)

“OOH MISTER KACCHAN”: A FAN FICTION (chapter 322)

Origins of the “Izuku Midoriya’s market of trust issues” tag (chapter 306)

Origins of the “my dead gay son” tag (chapter 298)

Overhaul quirk breakdown

P

Parallels: All For One (S03E10, S05E02) vs Izuku Midoriya (S02E01, S01E01, S01E08, S01E02)

Parallels: All For One & Tenko (S0309) vs Young Izuku & Young Katsuki (S01E07)

Parallels: All For One/Tomura (chapter 297) vs All For One/Katsuki feat. Tomura & Izuku (volume cover 10)

Parallels: All Might & Izuku Midoriya (chapter 1, S01E01) vs Izuku Midoriya & All Might (chapter 317)

Parallels: Eijirou Kirishima & Katsuki Bakugou feat. Izuku Midoriya, Tenya Iida, & the League of Villains (chapter 91) vs Izuku Midoriya & All Might (chapter 317)

Parallels: Izuku & All Might (S01E02) vs Katsuki & All Might Izuku (S03E23)

Parallels: Izuku/Tenko (chapter 305) vs Izuku/Katsuki (S01E07)

Parallels: Katsuki Bakugou vs Tomura Shigaraki (S02 ED2, S02E24, S05E24)

Parallels: Second OFA User (chapter 310) vs Katsuki Bakugou (chapter 42)

Pigeons crossover (chapter 320)

Platonic Mentor OFA 2nd User is relevant to my interests (chapter 310)

Possible Parallels: The Final Battle (chapter 298)

Post-war character expectations for Kirishima, Ashido, Machia, Yaoyorozu, Iida, and Stain (chapter 316)

Predicting the rest of the MHA series generally a.k.a. answering 14 asks in one go (chapter 322)

Q

Quirk Singularity Doomsday: Deku’s Gonna Be Possessed REDUX (chapter 330)

R

Recommended theories?

Rescue vs atonement (chapter 322)

Runner-runner-up best developed relationship: Katsuki and Ochako (chapter 319)

S

Save to Win meets Win to Save (chapter 322)

Second Life: Oh my god this theory is not immediately dismissable and I don’t know how to feel about that (chapter 330)

Self-Victory: Katsuki vs. One For All (chapter 316)

Should Katsuki call him Izuku or Deku? (chapter 337)

Shouto vs Dabi the Deku parallel (chapter 301)

Shouto’s family drama, the media, and Katsuki (chapter 303)

Shouto’s hero name is genius and never expect him to change it

Sincerely, Professor MHA

Smiles and possessed by emotions (chapter 286)

Smiling in the Face of Danger: A Picture Book (chapter 286)

Sometimes Izuku is terrifying

Spoilers/Manga Translations by Chapter

Spoilers Translations Masterpost

Star reminds me of GI Jane (chapter 333)

Star versus the Forces of GOT’EEEEM (chapter 333)

(Star versus...) Follow-up: Star and Katsuki and Teamwork (chapter 333)

Still Waters Run Deep: Aoyama observations I have no idea what to do with but I’m scared

T

That’s not what Katsuki wanted to hear (S03E23)

That’s not what Katsuki wanted to hear 2: The Victory Strategy (chapter 286)

The appeal of BakuDeku relationship dynamics

The dynamic between Bakugou and Uraraka

The Egg Metaphor (chapter 335)

The Egg Will Explode: Deku’s Gonna Be Possessed (chapter 286)

The Future of One For All (chapter 293)

The new arc of My Hero Academia looks great! (chapter 307)

The Obligatory MVA Anime Meta

The OG fandom gatekeeper

Theory vs Theory: A Second Guess at Second’s Quirk (chapter 349)

The post-war conflict or lack thereof between Izuku and Katsuki (chapter 318)

The Second’s Quirk: Shit’s about to get absolutely batshit crazy (chapter 349)

This Is Fine: Predicting the Second’s quirk (chapter 310)

TodoBaku Restaurant (chapter 342)

Traitor Confirmed (chapter 328)

Traitor Hagakure is not surprising (chapter 335)

U

UA school uniform vs. One For All (volume 31 cover, chapter 320)

Uh oh Katsuki is in danger (chapter 345)

Uh oh, Second’s quirk?

(Uh oh...) But should I say it?

(Uh oh...) Is that the Second’s quirk revealed? (chapter 349)

Underestimating Toga (chapter 341)

Until Now: The full scope of apologies (chapter 322)

V

Vaguesplaining Katsuki’s amnesia in Heroes Rising (chapter 322)

Volume 30 cover sketch reaction (volume 30)

W

Wait wait I think I got it this time: Yes it’s another Second’s quirk theory (but this one’s correct) (chapter 349)

What does it mean that Ochako and Hawks are the “light of hope?” (Jump GIGA spring 2021 Horikoshi interview)

What is Overhaul’s role in the story? (chapter 312)

What is the “Ultimate Hero”? (chapter 323)

What to do with the DFO theory? (chapter 290)

What was Katsuki thinking when he told Izuku to dive off the roof in chapter 1? (chapter 284, hints about chapter 319)

What Your Favorite My Hero Academia Ship Says About You: OFA 1x2 (chapter 310)

When does Izuku chronologically first use Nana Shimura’s quirk? (chapter 284)

When people take me too seriously...

When the meta HITS...

When will DvK3 come back from war? (chapter 342)

When you wanna meta but work...

Which characters/relationships in MHA are the best developed in my opinion?

Who is Katsuki Bakugou’s villain counterpart? (chapter 310)

Who was in the car? (chapter 322)

Who will save Izuku? (chapter 318)

Who won Deku vs Kacchan 2?

Why isn’t Uraraka popular? ...or is she?

Will Katsuki Bakugou be a popular hero? (chapter 293)

Winning! Part 1 (chapter 334)

Winning! Part 2 (chapter 334)

Winning! Part 3 (chapter 336)

Winning! Part 4 (chapter 336)

Winning! Part 5 (chapter 336)

World Heroes’ Mission parody of cable news (movie 3)

Writing comparison

Writing comparison follow-up

X

Y

You can ask me about translations

You PAMPER Pikahlua? (Deku vs. Kacchan, Part 2)

Z

[daisanokensha]

i really admire your characterization so i was curious about your take/thoughts on mikoto's ptsd?

OOF SORRY this is late and idk if you still wanna read this anon but... you flatter me haha... i’ll gladly(?) offer my two scents but im warning you it’s been a while

sooooo obviously i agree that mikoto’s extremely depressed but generally speaking i’d say i’m not a fan of takes that claim he developed ptsd from the crater incident. i respect them but i think the crater’s more of an echo of the actual issue considering mikoto revisited the edge of it with his grandpa often enough to make a habit out of going for a swim which reisi thought was very bizarre and tasteless when he saw a dripping wet mikoto emerge out of the water (THIS IS A DISASTER SITE MIKOTO) BUT LIKE that's neither here nor there bc mikoto suoh is a) notoriously disrespectful and b) has no problem wrecking public property. destruction isn’t his issue per se

i personally think the problem lies within his impulse control and/or lack thereof as it becomes a big thing later on in the series. people tend to throw a bunch of buzzwords around but fact still remains that he’s always been a pretty laid-back guy who grew up in an environment that practically enabled him to pick up certain habits (used to work as a bodyguard, lives in a bar etc). i don’t rly expect much from sb who’s never been told no as a child or that he can’t overindulge bc there’s... no such person in his life to take on that role (his parents are dead, his grandpa too). he didn’t develop his bad habits due to his ptsd (re: smoking, drinking, sleeping), his ptsd just amplified them. sure, he can control himself to a certain extent, but the second he’s given an incentive, he’ll take advantage of it.

but like. mikoto’s a good kid (as confirmed by honami). he’s doing well in school and, as honami mentioned, she firmly believes he could become anything  career-wise if he just set his mind on it. he just doesn’t want to. everyone’s got all of these expectations they project onto him while mikoto’s just over here honest to god vibing. yes, he gets into fights, but don't poke the bear and expect it to lie still, y’know? i’d also get sick of constantly dodging people that, seemingly for no reason whatsoever, won’t get off my ass. no, mikoto’s the type to ignore an issue until it goes away, but if it doesn’t, if it persists and gets in the way of his lifestyle or negatively impacts people he cares about etc, he gets violent.

(speaking of friends and people he cares about: i don’t rly think he’s got trouble making friends. he just doesn’t give a shit. people (good And bad) flock to him so effortlessly, but it’s clear that they have to put in the effort to actually stick around bc mikoto certainly doesn’t bother. they come and go, and it’s like he said: if kusanagi suddenly decided that he hated mikoto and/or didn’t wanna hang w him anymore, he wouldn’t resent him for that decision. he gets it.)

and that basically brings us to the actual problem. he’s got money, friends (for the first time in his life!), he’s doing whatever he wants etc etc all this free time to waste and money to blow basically. how does taking all of that away impact his life? extremely negatively. the slate chooses him. he’s suddenly confronted with the fact that he’s got way more responsibility than he can handle when his life has always, always, always consisted of him just doing whatever. he’s got more power than he can handle that, if he’s not careful, can and will kill his friends. people outside of his close circle suddenly look up to him for no reason other than said power that, on top of everything else, is actively destroying his body. he’s taking care of a child at his age that constantly invades his privacy (to a point where she shares his messed up dreams with him) and we know that mikoto’s an extremely private person. it’s bad. he doesn’t like it. he prefers what he’s built with izumo and totsuka. it’s small and intimate, but they understand him. 

it never works out the way he wants.

but yeah. i just think there are so many different factors that ultimately led to his depression and ptsd that weren’t necessarily all “this guy likes to smoke and drink he must be depressed”. the most important thing has always been the absence of freedom (and consequently, his right to decide for himself), so to end this post with a couple of important things:

- mikoto knows he’s got poor impulse control and an easily addictive personality. it’s a Big struggle, but for all the wrong reasons: he doesn’t want to give up his life for the sake of others, but he has to. he feels like he does, too, at this point - people are suddenly telling him what to do? the cops are constantly on his ass? - he can’t go out anymore without attracting some kind of trouble. becoming the next red king directly put a target on his back and put him on the radar (remember, he likes his peace). they’re, by association, painted as the most violent clan. the bad eggs, and there are several, don’t really do anything to improve homra’s image. mikoto accepts it, albeit defiantly. he stays indoors as much as he can. overthinking everything makes him spiral, makes him angry and depressed, so he sleeps - people come to him to join his clan. it’s growing exponentially. the burden’s getting heavier. they’re good people, but a rowdy bunch. it weighs on his shoulders. he’s never been in this position. how can he keep them all safe? why does he have to? he just wants to live - he distances himself. not too much, but some days are unbearable. his bad mood affects them all. they know something’s up, but he can’t explain. doesn’t want to. so he stays away, because it’s easier - lapses of self-control, lack of sleep. the dreams he experiences aren’t his, but they’re vivid and terrible. he’s not there when it unfolds - he comes to once it’s all over, when the dust has barely settled, hands charred, sweating. it’s a reminder that if he gives in and lets it consume him, he will turn into that monster

also it’s not the first time i read this but the poor hygiene part always throws me off bc mikoto showers and styles his hair every morning. anna even tried to document a day in the life, so ??? where’s this coming from??? did i miss smth? who told you guys mikoto’s a nasty little gremlin

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: Terror in the Sky

“Don’t you get it yet, Batman? You failed.”

Episode: 45 Robin: No Writer: Mark Saraceni (teleplay/story) and Steve Perry (story) Director: Boyd Kirkland Animator: Dong Yang Airdate: November 12, 1992 Grade: F

Ouch. Y’know, at least I’ve Got Batman in My Basement had fun stuff for the kiddies and an absolutely hilarious screwdriver duel. What does this episode have for anyone once they know the plot twist? I can’t think of a single thing. Not a single thing. Nothing stuck with me. Nothing is here that I care about seeing again. No killer lines. No great action scenes. Only a mildly good twist, and, well, it does have the incredibly cute scene from the She-Bat eating the fruit at the beginning, but really, this episode’s crime is just being flat out boring. I might even call it my least favorite episode so far. As if all this weren’t enough, this is the third episode within the last four to predominantly feature a human transforming into some type of creature-person hybrid. It doesn’t start off at the zoo again, thank the lord, but why this theme again? Twice that close together was pushing it. Yeah, seeing Langstrom a few episodes ago helps, it gives us a sense of continuity and story-ark, but I wanna see some other things from the world of Batman. I really like Man-Bat too, and a return sounds amazing on paper. Yet, while watching, I found myself looking at the time. What went so wrong?

Like I said, that fruit-eating bit was adorable. I really hope there’s a gif of that somewhere. After that, we see She-Bat going back to Langstrom’s house, and Langstrom jolts awake. Everything seems normal, and we are tricked into thinking that it was all a bad dream. Unfortunately, Langstrom gets up and finds scratches and fruit-splatter all over a throw-rug. This leads him to believe that he is turning back into the Man-Bat creature at night, and he simply doesn't remember it. But here’s what I wanna know. Why do they never notice his wife’s torn-up clothes? Does she never wake up to realize that all she’s wearing is tatters? This never sets off any red flags for either of them? That’s a bit of a plot-hole if I do say so myself. Also, his wife in this scene is wearing a shirt, which the bat-creature clearly was lacking. I know they had to fool us somehow, and they can’t show nekkid boobies on the show, but they coulda kept her covered up. I also thought it was pretty cold how she told Langstrom to just go back to sleep. Wow, how comforting.

When you walk through the house at night and you step in animal-piss.

Batman hears about the bat-creature, and pays Langstrom a visit in his laboratory. At the same time, his wife discovers the torn-up rug, and realizes what is apparently happening. So they both get pissed at him, and his wife threatens to leave him, which I understand, considering they both think that he’s screwing around with the Man-Bat formula again. Langstrom tells Batman, though, that he hasn’t messed with it at all, and that Batman’s antidote must have been a failure. In general he acts pretty unappreciative toward Batman. And I know that he’s stressed and likely feels like he’s being targeted, but he fails to remember that without Batman’s help, he’d be in a lot worse shape, likely contained. Batman saved your ass, and even if the antidote didn’t quite get you to a normal life, it at least did something. So, to prove that Langstrom isn’t messing with the formula, and that he’s changing involuntarily, Batman takes a DNA test. Planning on comparing it to the bat-creature, okay, but you’re 99.99% sure that it’s Langstrom with the wings. You want to make sure that he’s not doing it on purpose. Taking a DNA test would be to see who the creature is. From a writing perspective, I get it, but from Batman’s perspective, he shouldn’t need to do that. His logical conclusion should be to first, do some detective work, spying on Langstrom and his laboratory activities, and second, figure out why he’s changing again.

Batman runs into the bat-creature while outside on his motorcycle, and we get a fight which basically consists of Batman getting pelted with a garbage can a few times. Boyd Kirkland puts out some good stuff sometimes, but this directing is so boring! I swear, nothing interesting-looking ever happens  on screen in this entire episode! Remember On Leather Wings? Remember how dynamic some of those moments were? And to up the boringness a little more, it’s all snowy. Okay, cool change of environment. But when you do nothing with it, this leads to us looking at a lot of bland whites and grays, in addition to the brown of the bat.

After the two fight, there is a chase scene that you might as well fast-forward through, and it ends with, of course, Batman heading right toward a train on his motorcycle. Enough with the trains, it’s getting so cliché. Every time someone is on a train track in this show, just expect a train to inconveniently show up. Even Batman seems sick of it here. This is a scene where Batman is speeding through the snow and ice, being chased down by a giant bat that possibly wants to kill him. How about a more exciting way to end it? Luckily, though, the fight/chase allows Batman to pick up some hair from the creature, and he tests it, proving that Langstrom isn’t the bat. Of course, he now thinks that Dr March is the bat. At least that’s a logical conclusion. When Batman gives Langstrom the news, we learn that his wife has actually left him, and is boring a plane to some undisclosed location. Despite this, it’s really cool how he offers to help Batman catch the new Man-Bat. Batman says that he can handle it, though, so Langstrom heads off to find his wife and explain to her what is going on.

When Batman confronts Dr. March, Dr. March insists that he’s not responsible for the Man-Bat either, because he spilled the improved solution on the floor. But he remembers that his daughter (who is also Langstrom’s wife) helped him clean it up, and in the process, she cut her finger and exposed her blood to the solution. Girl, you’re in a laboratory working with chemicals. Wear gloves if you’re gonna clean up a mess that contains broken glass. Or wear gloves anyway! Duh! So it’s revealed that Francine is the new Man-Bat (or in this case, She-Bat), and it’s a twist that might surprise you your first watch, but it’s not gonna blow you away either. And as I said, once you know it, the episode is basically worthless. And you wouldn’t think so! Because now we shift to the airplane that Francine is on, and she mentions that she doesn’t feel so well. Great! We’re gonna get to see her transform into the bat and go berserk on a crowded plane, right? Well, kinda. After a terribly-animated transformation scene where she looks like one of Spielberg’s gremlins, she leaves the plane, creating a drop of cabin-pressure, and everyone is afraid that they’ll be sucked right out the door. Sounds exciting, but believe me, it’s not. It all feels so low-key considering the situation, and I have to point to Boyd Kirkland again. Dong Yang does no favors, though, because even though this is their episode, it 100% looks like Akom-work. Yeah. You see the problem. I really wish that instead of attempting a scene like this and failing, they would have tried another idea. This is one that I had. So, Langstrom is on the plane that his wife is supposed to be on. He saw her get on it. But when on the plane, he doesn’t see her. The episode would then call back to the Twilight Zone episode Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, and he’d see her outside on the wing. How she got there wouldn’t matter, and it would be a really fun moment. That's my way of how to improve the episode. By the way, after She-Bat escapes, Batman pulls up in his plane and rescues a woman from falling out with the Bat-Plane’s grabby arm. The whole thing is preposterous-looking, and I refuse to believe that, as a pilot, Batman has that much dexterity. Get outta here.

And then the rest of the episode is another chase sequence. Fun. Except this time it’s the Bat-Plane chasing She-Bat. I’m not someone who’s against the Bat-Plane or anything, I think that it has its uses. But, similar to the 1989 Batman, it can be so boring to watch. The chase feels like it goes on forever, and when it ends, Batman injects her with the antidote, and everything is right with the world. So with that, Batman takes off, leaving Kirk and Francine Langstrom up on a snowy, slippery bridge, doomed to freeze to death or fall. That basically sums it up. On the bright side, Char didn’t dislike the episode. She didn’t like it either, but I’m glad that I wasn’t insulting her time.

Get a load of this goofy shot.

“You’re on your own, guys.”

Char’s grade: C Next time: Almost Got’ im

Full episode list here!

[fairymint-archive]

I’m the bitch that always has a ‘problem’ w/ icon sets cause I wanna like. balance portrayal vs realism? vs? situational?

I like having icons for most situations. Sleeping, blushing/romance, fucking pissed. So that’s why i get so picky. 

The icon set I made myself is Botan Kurashiki, she’s a very good choice tbh as a bookworm.  has some fem looking and masc looking moments, very expressive in the face. love the art style. There’s a few appropriately risque ones cause her manga deals with a GNC/transfemme protagonist. 

my actual facial expressions and hair probably look more like Karuta here tho, IRL. my Voice is very expressive, but with ADHD and a....thing? I don’t deal with smiling well. or eye contact. I was initially diagnosed w/ ADD, cause my introverted ass lacks the ‘H’ w/ people i don’t know/like.

Kosuzu also has Felix’s brand of fluffy hair, but touhou and her char aren’t super romantic/blushy, nor is she very angry.

Miku Nanako (icons from dresspheres) also kinda hits the vibe, course she lacks some of the lighthearted, gremlin chibi momence.

[lichlairs]

Checkout our new post over at https://lichlair.com/daily-monster-30-mite

Daily Monster #30: Mite

Today we talk about Baby Yoda. Well…if Baby Yoda had a rough childhood on the streets and ended up resorting to a life of crime before succumbing to Spice addiction. Let’s talk about…

Mites

Spice? Do you Spice?

The basics

Mites are small fey creatures with an AC of 12 and an equally small hit point pool of 2d6. For their diminutive size, they still have better moving speeds than most creatures with 30ft of walking speed, 10ft burrow, and 30ft of climbing speed.

In terms of numbers we’re looking a pretty average scores. Their highest score is a +2 in DEX, followed by a +1 in CHAR… I guess they’re kind of cute in an ugly baby Yoda sort of way. Other than that, their CON and INT are both +0, their WIS is -1 and finally, their STR is their lowest stat with a -2 to it.

These tiny creatures have a +3 to deception and, +6 to their stealth. Possibly due to their environment they also enjoy 60ft of Darkvision.

Interestingly enough, while in their presence (30ft), other creatures have disadvantage on DEX saves and checks. (Vexing Presence)

Thanks to their Blood Boiling Hex (recharge on 6), these small fey are the ultimate pranksters and great monsters if you’re looking to annoy your group of PCs. Not only does using this ability function similarly to the Bane spell, but it can also make for an interesting combat situation to have the players attack each other without fully understanding why.

Other than these two abilities, we don’t really get much else other than a standard dagger attack which you, hopefully, won’t be using at all when running these monsters.

Mites are CR 1/4 creatures.

The Lore

Mites were first introduced to the world of Dungeons and Dragons in 1971 before making an appearance in the 1st edition Fiend Folio ten years after.

Mites are tiny humanoids, descended from the Feywild and perhaps once an offshoot of gremlins. They are described as having large heads and tiny scrawny bodies, while their skin color ranges from a white-ish gray to violet or light blue hues.

Mite tends to inhabit complex networks of very narrow tunnels only fitting for creatures of similar small sizes. While these can be found in the wild as part of the underground, Mites are known to enjoy inhabiting abandoned dungeons as well. It could be that this is partially due to their love for making simple traps, something that they enjoy but don’t excel at, specially when compared to kobolds, for example.

They’re a little similar to Mephits in the fact that both creatures covet treasure and often seek to steal it from unsuspecting adventurers. Anyone unfortunate enough to be caught a group of Mites will soon find themselves stripped of all belongings and left hanging upside down by a rope in some abandoned dungeon corridor.

Mites are extremely curious and are known to keep all sorts of trinkets as “treasure” from their successful catch. They particularly enjoy collecting bones from larger creatures and will go through great lenghts to trasport them back to their lairs. It’s not unusual for Mite tunnels to be covered in discarted stolen items.

As mischievous and chaotic as they are, most of them don’t actually have murderous intent for their prey as this would simply put an end to their fun. They do not feed upon their captives but won’t hesitate to steal any rations they might have with them.

Mites delight in causing chaos and annoying other creatures. When mites are about, other individuals become irritable and easily frustrated to the point of violence. Thanks to the Mite’s Vexing presence, even the smallest of problems can feel like gross incompetence. What was once a simple task becomes nearly impossible for creatures affected by the Mite’s influence which can often turn the group to arguments and, in some cases, even fights.

In terms of their society, groups of mites usually build a larger main cavern from which their King can rule and command the rest of the Mites. Although they are led by a King, most females of the species display more ferocity than the males and won’t hesitate to attack or even bite intruders.

Giant Spiders and Giants are two of the Mite’s natural enemies as both monsters enjoy feasting on the tiny fey creatures.

The execution

Oh boy, oh boy. If you play in any of my campaigns, it’s time to stop reading.

This is it, this is exactly the reason I wanted to work on Daily Monster: to find new interesting monsters to make my players lives all the more miserable and I think we’ve done just that with today’s monster. Merry Christmas indeed.

But enough about me and my chaotic evil plans. Let’s take a look at how we could implement these creatures into our campaigns.

My idea is pretty simple. As the players begin delving into a local dungeon they start to feel as if they’re being watched, as they look around for the source of the feeling, they spot several small tunnel entrances but not much else (you can thank the Mite’s Stealth for that!). As they progress though the maze of tunnels, however, suspicious things begin to happen, perhaps the thief’s tools snap as he tries to open a door or, the barbarian trips and falls down some stairs taking some damage. You name it, just make sure to escalate the events and their suspicious nature as much as you can. If the party tries to take any sort of rest while in the area the Mites will cave in some tunnels to trap them. Considering the list of events that the group will have experienced up to that point, this will probably leave no doubt about something being afoot. The reason for all this trouble? A group of Mites that has been shadowing them through the various tunnels, heck, maybe one of them hitched a ride inside the Barbarian’s travel pack. Maybe the party begins to notice that some of their personal items have gone missing.

Now, keep in mind that the entire point of these creatures is to have fun annoying your players as much as possible, which is why you should definitely consider playing the world’s most annoying game of whack-a-mole. Have them pop out of their little tunnels to Hex the players into hitting each other before ducking back in, take advantage of the disadvantage to DEX saves and have them spring traps on them, maybe they run around in pairs holding a rope and trying to trip the players. Ultimately you know your players best. What are some fun pranks you can play on them using these creatures that are sure to get your players?

If you enjoyed learning about this creature and would like to be informed whenever we post new articles, consider following us on our social media. We post new content every day. Have any funny stories about your experience with Mites? Why not share them in our forums?