#pinecone save

[thepineconelord]

Minhkhoa Khan fanfic recs from someone who has read a lot of Ghostmaker fic

overexposure by distortopia for bat_butch (maybe my favorite fic of all time, so great and makes me cry)

a kind of ouroboros by @everyones-least-favorite-bard (the internal monologue hnnnnng)

they don't love you like i love you. by sandiazucar (minhkhoa parents!!!!)

The First Warm Thing by Noknowname (the feelings i feel about this fueiwhfuiewhuie)

i used to waste my time dreaming of being alive (now i only waste it dreaming of you) by @nygmamale (i just,,,, yeah)

be content with loneliness (because none of it was ever worth the risk) by @brutaliakhoa (ill just make incoherent noises about this one hufuwribuireqbuiqwhfuirwqefbrequivberqui)

Dear Bruce by HuntedPrincess [go read everything from this writer right now ( -_•)︻╦╤─]

indeclinable by @neutral-as-fuck (this is just soooo fhuerihfuerqhvuiqervui)

Let Me Worry About It by jamiePT (murder :3)

what keeps us coming back by novashyperion (twobats!!!!!!!!)

You Are My Center When I Spin Away by bat_butch and bellandeano (angst ;-;, also emotional mature minhkhoa khan? in my house?)

a complete history of heartbreak on the planet earth by pomeloquat (this feels like a timeline reconciliation and I needed that so bad)

victory is best served on your nemesis' lips by @cheesed-14 (sooooo funny and silly :3)

Sapphire in Moonlight by Serenityreview (i feel like this one is a ghostbat classic)

Chronos by EventualToast (not ghostmaker focused, but such a good fic)

The Beating Heart by BumblingBeesAndWillowTrees (rarepair win! but sooooo well-written <3)

Tiny Things by novashyperion

you're still the oxygen i breathe / i see your face when i close my eyes by @nygmamale (guys its so good)

Fell Out of Bed, Butterfly Bandage, But Don't Worry by @babygirlcowboy (Khoa characterization!!!!! ahhhh!!!)

third act twist by pomeloquat (im a superghostbat shipper at heart, so this rules)

irresolution doesn't suit you by @loosingmoreletters (i fucking love this au, there's so much potential and it had me screaming)

in spite of everything by Anonymous (I love character studies!!!!!!)

Carry You Home by silver_penny (my heart dude)

[pineconnie]

do you guys remember when kww was tomorrow

[3-frogs-in-a-trenchcoat]

show percy will eventually make another very out of pocket comment about the fact that zeus' best idea to save thalia was turning her into a tree but that time he'll add the fact that his dad grabbed him from a free fall instead of turning him into seaweed or a seagull or a horse and i live for the reaction of whoever is on the receiving end

[bibleofficial]

wallpaper is insane like u find a product w an ugly print ? wallpaper it. just multiple uncoordinated things put together ? wallpaper it. ugly door ? wallpaper it. ugly wall ? landlord won’t let me wallpaper it

[cupc4ke88]

🍂Sunday🍂

[pineconedrop]

Look at this baby

AWWWWWWWWWWWW CUTE BABY <3

[lucinfernos]

the gang as humans cus i can't draw anything animal-related to save my life!!

some headcanons for the kids: - they're all 15 except susie, 16, who had to repeat a grade due to so many absences - susie has ARFID & PICA which is why she likes eating crazy stuff like chalk, pinecones and ice cubes. she also has PCOS! - noelle has a condition similar to vitiligo that gives her skin the deer-like light spots :) her legs are also a little bowed. - kris has selective mutism but is the loudest person in the room when they're with people they deem safe - kris's eyes always look like the way people's do when the camera flash is caught in photographs. nobody knows why, but their eyesight is great in the dark! - berdly has never thought about his sexuality and wouldn't really label it, either. he falls for the person (which... in this case is literally everyone) - berdly has a speech impediment caused by his overbite, particularly affecting his pronounciation of S and R, as well as braces (currently with blue bands). his eyesight is also abysmal. he refers to this set of issues as "having been nerfed when first spawned into the world" :p

[joyglass]

Percy is SO sassy in the show it's driving me insane

[inbabylontheywept]

by tradition, the first day of the camp was spent pranking the group next to us. our prank was ziptying the zippers on their sleeping bags together. we figured one of them would sleep with a knife, because we all slept with knives, because we were dangerous maniacs and half the danger of a dangerous maniac is that they tend to think that they are Actually Normal. so. obviously that didn't pan out, and instead they got stuck in their sleeping bags for like half an hour and because their scoutmaster slept in their car and couldn't hear them yelling, they actually only got out when one of them went full caged animal and chewed through the plastic. which meant they had time to make it to the axe throwing station, but they did miss breakfast.

the scale of our victory was impossible to understate. it was an epic prank. unrivaled. the best in years. we knew they were going to retaliate, and we both feared and craved it. maybe i'm still a maniac, but that feels like a common thing, right? do well adjusted people that are not maniacs crave Judgement?

(serious answers only please, from people who would never spoon a knife.)

anyway, the next day we got back to our camp, and the neighors had skipped dinner to just come back and fill all our tents with pinecones. which was like, a decent prank, i guess, but it probably took them an hour to fill all the tents up, and it took us like 15 minutes to tip the tents out, and as a return volley to the ziptie prank it was incredibly underwhelming. we felt a little cheated.

so our scouting group held a council, and we agreed, unanimously, that our prank was 100% better and theirs sucked and that there would be no escalating tensions because we were the clear victors. they'd had their chance to retaliate, and they failed, and so the war was over. that was it.

we agreed on this. we swore. but madness is a relative thing, and in our group of maniacs, we still had J. i have many, many J stories. too many. i biked up to school with him from 4th grade to 8th, and i saw him get hit by cars thrice. he'd just swerve into the road sometimes. one time on a rainy day in 4th grade, a car splashed me, and before i could even consider my response J yelled I GOT THIS and then he blitzed off after the car. i didn't see him the rest of the day. i was so anxious i barely slept that night. i saw him the next morning and he told me that he'd chased the car until it got to a gated community and then he'd climbed over the fence and looked in peoples garages until he found the one with the car, and then he'd ripped the hood ornament off and broke their window. then he gave me a hood ornament to a different brand of car from the one that splashed me and i didnt tell him because i didnt want him missing more school. i want you to mentally adjust your mental model of the things a 9 year old is capable of doing to include chasing a car for five miles, hopping a fence, breaking into a garage, and vandalizing a randos car.

and that's just the tip of my J stories iceberg.

the point of all this is just to say that J was so crazy that he made us knife spooners look like accountanting enthusiasts.

so we agreed the war was done, and we shook on it, and then J, in the name of friendship, in the name of honor, in the name of avenging our pinecone filled tents, snuck over to their camp that evening and fornicated with a watermelon that they'd been saving in their cooler.

i want to emphasize, again, that this was not the consensus of the group. that is not a prank. like i know it seems like we dont know what pranks are because of the whole ziptie thing, but even we knew that fucking someones food is not a prank, it is a crime, and a sin, the kind of weapon that had only been ethically used once in history by Horus in his battle against Set and none of us dumb assholes had owl heads.

so.

the next day went pretty well. we threw some more axes again, which is a valuable and important skill for children to learn i guess, and we learned how to tie knots, which is a skill that turned out to be far sexier than i ever expected, and i learned how to light fires with a magnifying glass, which was great. i'm looking back at this, and i am actually just now beginning to realize that the clear and obvious point of scouting is turning child sociopaths into apex predators.

and then the day ended, and we went back to our camps, except for our leaders, who had a sort of Scout Leader Meeting they were going to have for a few hours at least. it was built into the camp, that day was supposed to be our day to chill as a group, and make peach cobbler, and just be buddies.

except, as it turned out, our neighboring group's alternative to making peach cobbler was eating their watermelon. so at some point they opened their watermelon, and woo boy. oh man. you think catholics hated seedless watermelons? you should see how much mormons hate seeded ones.

so we were chilling by the fire, and then we heard screaming from the camp over, but we didn't pay much mind to that because there are many reasonable explanations for a group of 10ish children to scream simulanteoulsy, such as wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then the screaming got closer, which did not bother us because there were many reasons for a group 10ish children to scream and run towards us, for example, wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then we noticed they had large sticks on them, which we figured were perhaps being used to drive away the wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then they arrived and they started beating the shit out of us, abundantly, in arizona.

so we ran into the woods.

now, at this point, we had no idea what was up. we knew that the camp next to us was out for blood, which was crazy, because we'd actually locked them in fartproof bags for 30 minutes and they'd barely done anything back, and were trying to figure out what could possibly have happened that could drive them to Terrible Violence when we realized that J was cackling like a witch that had learned how to order children off of ebay.

so we politely asked J what the hell he had done, and he politely explained that had "done" their watermelon, and we politely beat him with large sticks because life is nothing but endless cycles of violence.

we were still being chased by the other camp btw. so it was them, chasing us, chasing J, and then they got tired and went back to their camp, and we chased J a little longer because we were mad we'd all been walloped with sticks, and J did not care because he was a supernatural entity whose only weaknesses were Needles and Fire, and then we got tired and went back and J kept running, and we just kind of figured he would come back eventually.

he did not.

we went back to our tents, and we waited, and J did not come back. we stayed up all night, peering into the forest, worrying. our leader came back, and we did our best to hide our battlewounds, and he either genuinely did not notice or simply accepted this as part of Boyhood. then he went to bed, and we waited, and waited, and waited. And Waited. and did not sleep.

eventually, we convened again, and we agreed that if J was not back by after breakfast, we would have to tell the scoutleader about what exactly had transpired. and we really did not want to do that, because it would have meant that everyone would have gotten in a very large amount of trouble.

morning came around, and J still was not back. we went to breakfast, and we ate very, very slowly. we were afraid the other camp was going to continue their war with us, but they actually looked fairly frightened. one of them actually came to us and asked for a truce, and we agreed because we truly felt bad for them. like, yes, they did beat us with sticks, but J fucked their watermelon. we werent complicit in the watermelonfuckening but they didnt know that, and it was definitely the kind of crime that left one outside the bounds of the social contract.

and then when we could eat no more bits, when breakfast was almost done, right when i was getting pushed to go and tell the scoutleader that we needed to find J, he arrived. he was sleep deprived, and noticeably scraped and bloody, and tied to his belt was a blood squirrel tail.

and i asked him, J, where did you get that? and he said, don't worry man, it was already dead, which did not answer by question and gave me several more.

the camp ended that day, and the other groups avoided us like the plague, and it was not until some weeks later that we were able to piece together what happened.

J, in his sojourn through the forest, managed to find (or, possibly, make) a dead squirrel. he then cut off the tail to keep on his belt, because he was a weird little freak like that. he also took the dead squirrel, and he skinned it, then he tied it to a little crucifix made of wood, and he left it in the other scouting group's camp. which is why they were so scared of us.

it was such an unhinged thing to do it actually sobered us up for a while. scouting became a scary thing for us. we'd found something dark and primal there, in the place where no adult could see, and our appreciation of J as a wild ride kind of changed into seeing him as something truly dangerous. we had a sense wherever he went, something terrible would follow, and the only way to escape it was to not be there when it arrived. and so piece by piece, the scout group dissolved. it wasnt until he moved out of that ward that the rest of us started daring to go back to scouts.

and for the final epilogue of the tale:

i have a little brother who was friends with a younger cousin of J's, and the two would go to parties together in highschool. and sometimes J, who was in his early 20's at that point, would show up at the parties, and it was unsettling in such a way that it just became a known risk at parties with the cousin. and at one party, they were playing truth or dare, and J wasn't even in the room, but someone asked him the Truth of how he always knew how to find the cousin, and J said the cousin's mom had mentioned she was worried about him and the parties so he'd put a tracker in his car. and when he saw that the cousin was out of the house on weekends, he'd made a visit by, just to make sure he was safe.

then he left. and every single person at that party went over that poor kid's car. they searched the wheel-wells, checked underneath it, the works, until they found the tracker. then because they were clever, they didnt break it, or throw it away, or anything that would've given away what they'd done. they just gave the tracker to the cousin, who put it in his glovebox. and on schooldays, he'd take it with him, so J could see him in the parking lot. and on weekends, he could leave it in the garage, so he could go to parties with out Hell coming with him. because everyone that met J - every single person - knew that the only way to be safe from him was to be far, far away.

[sixofbabycrows]

i know “she met a pinecone’s fate” gagged everyone but also i don’t think it was meant as a dig towards thalia but more so towards zeus and the gods in general - like this was not “hero’s fate” and they shouldn’t be thinking of it as zeus saving thalia cause if that’s all the most powerful god can do for his own child then the gods highkey suck

[sushirrrry]

SEVEN MINUTES || a harry styles x you one-shot. word count: 3,353 content warning: teen angst & fluff

summary: you and harry are camp counselors; you've never been kissed, but you landed on him for a quick game of seven minutes in heaven. he takes the lead.

It was the last week of camp.

The senior counselors had the night off, making sure to make their own memories that felt like their early childhoods had. Most of the kids were asleep in their cabins, save for the few youngest ones still fighting dreams with flashlights tucked under their blankets.

The sun had gone down hours ago, but the woods still buzzed with life—cicadas humming, the occasional hoot of an owl, someone’s distant laughter rolling from the mess hall.

And there you were, sitting on a quilted patch of grass behind the arts & crafts shed, cross-legged and nervous, a circle of citronella candles flickering around you and campfire burning ash up into the sky. Half the counselors were already tipsy on warm beer and vodka passed around in water bottles. The other half were drunk on freedom—just a few more days until real life crept back in; many of them would go to college, or trade schools.

It was sinking in that this was your last summer here.

“Alright, campers,” Jamie grinned, a crooked flashlight held beneath his chin for dramatic effect, “time for a classic.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

A chorus of groans and whistles erupted from the small group—about ten of you, total. Your stomach flipped at his words, knowing what it meant but also knowing that you just couldn’t get out of it.

“Oh my God, Jamie,” whined Marnie, dramatic as always, flopping back against a log. “What are we, twelve?”

Jamie twirled the empty water bottle in the middle of the circle. “Don’t act like you don’t wanna get shoved in the craft closet with Mason.”

Marnie gave a soft gasp, and kicked grass at him, but she was smiling. Mason was handsome, sure—but he wasn't even close to your type.

You tried not to shrink into yourself; this wasn't the activity you were looking for. You weren’t exactly known for being wild; you were the quiet counselor, the responsible one—always up early, always with a first-aid kit.

You were the kind who let the kids paint their nails with Crayola markers and sat in the shade reading To Kill a Mockingbird while the others cannonballed into the lake.

Then, there was Harry, the tall, broody, charismatic charmer who one simply could not resist staring at once you saw him.

He sat opposite you, one leg bent, his tattooed forearm resting lazily over his knee. He wore an old, cut-up band tee this night and those faded camp shorts that somehow always managed to sit just right on his hips and thighs.

His curls were pushed back with a blue paisley bandana, and his eyes were fixed on the bottle with amused interest, dimples barely there in the soft glow of the candlelight and fire that sat in front of him.

You knew Harry—but not just from camp, from town. He’d been in your English class junior year. He used to sit behind you and borrow your pencil just to annoy you, even though you knew he kept at least three in his backpack. He was charming in the way only someone effortlessly cool could be, never trying too hard, just… there.

He was also the boy you’d had a crush on since freshman year. But you were too quiet, too average, and Harry always felt like he lived just outside your orbit.

Until now, you guessed. Harry was right in your orbit, a little too much.

The bottle spun. Around and around, it went, all eyes watching it blur across the circle. It landed on Cara first, then Jamie, to many exaggerated “oohs”. Everyone watched as they disappeared into the tiny closet at the back of the shed while the rest of the group snickered and threw pinecones at the door, teasing and mocking them.

You watched them go and tried not to think about what it would be like to be chosen, because being chosen would mean you would have to face the fact that you had… never been kissed. Not even a small one—not even a silly, playful one as a kid. Your cheeks were already warm, and not just from the summer air or the heat of the fire in front of you.

The game went on. A few more pairs disappeared inside and came back out flushed and giggling—you hoped that they would just give up on it after a while, maybe pivot to a different game once everyone got bored.

You laughed along with everyone else, but your heart was thudding in your chest, palms clammy against your thighs.

But of course, your nightmare had become reality as you then watched the bottle land on you.

A sudden hush came over everyone until you heard Marnie next to you.

“Oooh!” Marnie squealed, grabbing your shoulder. “We’ve got a good girl up to bat now!”

You laughed weakly, trying not to shrink under the sudden attention.

“Alright,” Jamie said with a grin, staring back at you. He handed you the bottle and raised his brows at you. “Spin to meet your destiny, good girl.”

You leaned forward on trembling fingers and gave the bottle a twist. It spun fast, making the grass shiver beneath it. Around and around and around until—

For a split second, no one moved. Then the entire circle erupted.

“Oh, come on,” Jamie howled, turning towards Harry. “You landed on Styles?!”

“Harry, don’t break her!” Mason teased, holding onto his shoulder.

Another person yelled: “She’s too sweet for you!”

You could hear another: “Be gentle!”

Marnie’s eyes widened as she bumped your shoulder, whispering over at you, “Oh my god, you lucky duck!”

Harry just smirked without saying a word or making a big deal of it, and pushed himself up to his feet. He offered you a hand without hesitation, and something about the quiet ease in his eyes made your skin buzz with an electricity of a thousand voltages.

“Ready?” he asked, just loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded, trying to not make it too obvious that you were more than nervous. Your throat was dry, so you didn’t want to speak. All you could think about was it was going to happen… he was going to kiss you.

He led you toward the shed, ignoring the loud whistles and claps that followed you both from the annoying crowd that saw around the fire, half-drunk on excitement and half on beer.

The door creaked open, revealing a cramped space lined with shelves full of dried-out paints and yarn balls and string lights that hadn’t worked since ‘78.

He clicked the door shut behind you and the sound was final as the muffled voices faded beyond the wooden doors. You were in a pocket of silence, just the two of you. It was dark except for a sliver of moonlight leaking through a dusty window. You could barely make out his silhouette, but you knew he was taller than you and you knew that he was standing in front of you.

“I don’t think we’re gonna last seven minutes in here without inhaling glue fumes and sunscreen,” he said, voice light, trying to break the tension.

You laughed, a little too high-pitched which made you cringe. Your fingers twisted in the hem of your shirt. Then came the quiet; Harry cleared his throat as he turned his head towards the door. His hands pushed into his pockets as you sniffled.

The sounds of the party outside were filling the small shed, but you knew that everyone was talking about you.

“Have you ever played this before?” he asked, tilting his head toward you. His voice was soft and sincere when he spoke, almost like he knew that he could feel your energy. He was being kind.

That was the thing about Harry—he was the cutest and the sweetest. All the other boys there at the camp, they had such a roughness about them, but Harry didn’t. Harry was kind and playful and talked to anyone who needed it. He wasn’t judgmental or looking to make fun of anyone. So, his question didn’t throw you off too much, and you decided to be honest with yourself, and him.

You shook your head, then. “Never.”

“Me neither.” Harry admitted, shrugging. His eyes diverted down as he took in a shaky breath.

That surprised you, so you looked up at him and tucked your hair behind your ear. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he smiled faintly, scoffing a bit. “Usually, I’d skip this stuff—I don’t really like the whole ‘forcing people to kiss’ kind of thing.”

“Me either,” You hesitated, crossing your arms over your chest. “You could’ve skipped tonight.”

“Didn’t want to.” There was a faint hesitation before he shrugged. “Why didn’t you?”

The pause was palpable. His eyes searched your face as you went to speak and nothing came out. So, you just bit on your lip and diverted your eyes so he wouldn’t see.

You didn't have a chance to answer when he spoke again.

“You’re nervous.”

You tried to laugh again, but it broke in your throat. “A little, yeah.”

When he stepped closer, you backed up instinctively until your shoulders brushed the shelf behind you. The whole closet smelled like crayons and pinewood and dust. The floor creaked when he took a step, but he instantly knew what he was up against.

Harry’s voice was lower now as he gave you a small look and then, even in the dark, you saw the quirk of his smirk creeping up his lips. “You’ve never kissed anyone before, have you?”

Your breath caught at his question, shaking your head, just a little. “No.”

His eyes didn’t mock, they didn’t widen in surprise, they just softened. They just settled on you, and you could tell that he was trying to make you as comfortable as you could be in a situation like this. He pulled his lips in his mouth, giving you a warm glance before he spoke again.

“Okay,” he said gently. “Well, do you want to?”

You blinked, almost shocked that he would ask you like that—you looked at him with wonder as he smirked; you wondered if his cheeks had reddened at the thought of being a bit forward.

“I-I mean, if you do, I want to do it right,” he added, like it mattered to him. “Only if you want to. I mean—you know, a first kiss is something you remember forever, so.”

You didn’t realize how badly you’d wanted to hear that until now.

You nodded, and your voice came out as a whisper: “Yeah,” you nodded again, a bit more comfortable in the situation as you prepared to ready yourself. “Yeah, I-I want to.”

He just gave you a soft smile, then leaned into you with a soft deliberant motion, giving you time to stop him if you wanted. His fingers came to rest lightly on your jaw as he tilted your neck to meet his tall length, the pad of his thumb brushing your cheek. He smelled like cedar and beer.

His lips touched yours like a question, almost wondering if you were going to pull away. Everything about it was careful and wonderous and after all of the movies and books you read, you didn’t know kissing could feel like that.

You kissed him back with a bit of tension at first, then with more confidence as his hands settled at your waist, anchoring you down to the ground. You moved with him, moved with his lips; it was just like learning to dance. His lips were warm and tasted like beer and spearmint, and he moved with such reverence it made something tight in your chest unfurl.

He pulled away just an inch, eyes on you for a moment as you fluttered yours open. “Okay?”

You nodded, dazed, almost feeling like you could have levitated. “Yeah.”

He smiled again—this time more openly. “Can I keep going?”

You didn’t have to say anything, you just nodded with a smile that had crept up on your face. Harry took it as a sign to move in again. Your hands moved into his curls that were pushed back by the blue bandana and you wondered if he liked it like that.

And so, he did. Just a bit faster now, deeper. His nose nudged yours, and you tilted your head the way he guided you to, learning as you went. His mouth moved with a lazy kind of precision, like he was in no rush, like you were the only thing worth kissing in the entire world.

His lips parted slightly this time, coaxing yours open. When his tongue slipped into your mouth—just a little—you stiffened, instinctively pulling back a breath, unsure what to do with the new sensation.

But Harry stilled. He didn’t push you to reciprocate, knowing he may have pushed you a bit too far with that.

His hands, which had gently curved at your waist, gave the faintest squeeze—like he was grounding you, letting you know he was still there. And when your hands fisted gently into the soft cotton of his camp shirt, when your lips found his again, he kissed you back like it was a gift.

You leaned into it this time, understanding how the sensation felt and understanding how it made you feel.

The flick of his tongue was tender, unhurried—there was just a bit, nothing too intense. He tasted like spearmint gum and something sweeter—like campfire smoke and warm breath and the warm beer he’d have a couple of. You followed his rhythm, let yourself feel it—you let yourself want it.

Harry let out a sound low in his throat, barely more than a hum, and you felt the heat of it vibrate between your mouths. His fingers gripped your waist just a little tighter, and for a moment, he kissed you with more urgency, almost like he’d forgotten where you were, like he wanted to give you everything.

It felt… different. It was intense in a way you hadn’t expected before, like you didn’t know if you could have just stopped yourself without something pulling you out of it.

Your chest fluttered and tightened all at once, and when his tongue grazed yours again, an unintentional sound slipped from your throat—a small, helpless whimper like you couldn’t contain it anymore.

You felt it escape before you even registered it.

Harry stilled, stopping his motions as he did. You pulled back an inch, horrified, eyes wide because you did something completely awkward and weird and you shouldn’t have done that—that’s why he stopped.

“Oh my god—sorry,” you whispered, mortified. Your cheeks burned as you pulled away and touched your lips just to make sure that they were still there.

But Harry’s eyes had gone darker by just a flicker at your sounds. His breath caught like he’d heard something he hadn’t meant to, like something inside him reacted before he could stop it. He blinked, then gave a small, breathy laugh, more flustered than amused. His hands flexed at your waist before pulling back slightly.

“It’s okay,” he said, almost under his breath; he rubbed the back of his neck. “It was… yeah, it was totally fine—I just,” Harry took in a shaky breath, “Sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say—neither did he. You felt both that adrenaline in your vein and shaky, like you’d stepped too close to a fire.

But Harry cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck like he was embarrassed now. “Sorry. I just—um. Got a bit carried away for a second.”

You caught the way his eyes darted away, like he needed a second to find control again.

Your heart was still thudding, but in a different way now. Not just nerves—something else. It was something new. And though your lips were still tingling and felt like they were on fire, and you didn’t know where to put your hands anymore, there was something oddly comforting about knowing that he was just as flustered as you. Your hands were just on his shoulders—so muscular and steady under your touch.

“Same,” you said softly, with a half-laugh. “Um—thank you.”

Harry looked up at you then from his glance as he gave you a small shrug, “Definitely don’t need to thank me. Was it good?”

You bit on your lip as you nodded softly and looked up at him, “Really good.”

Harry’s eyes were soft and understanding and looked like he wasn’t just proud, but he was glad that he had been your first—glad that he had been the one to get you in the shed, because no one else would have treated you with the same respect.

“Could do it more sometime, if you want.”

His words rung out in the small shed area before your eyes shot up at him, at his invitation. You didn’t know if you had heard exactly what you had thought you did, but your mind practically went blank at him.

“Oh—oh, um,” you took in a breath, but you were unable to answer directly before you were rudely interrupted.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been gone until there was a sharp knock at the door, followed by a few raps that sounded like the palm of someone’s hand.

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” Jamie called, and the circle outside erupted in laughter and cheers, hooting and hollering.

You jerked back slightly, breathless, flushed. Harry laughed under his breath and turned towards the wooden door before he shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t worry about them,” he murmured to you, only you. “Let ‘em talk.”

You nodded at his confidence. You were taken aback when he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. When the door opened, there was less noise, but more nosy glances—people starting to whisper and gasp as you both made your way back.

“Well, damn,” Mason muttered, crossing his arms. “That was a long seven minutes. Some may say,” he looked at his watch, “Nine.”

Jamie laughed with another counselor next to him, shaking his head, “Look at her cheeks!  Styles had her moaning in there, for sure.”

Marnie threw a water bottle at him, “Shut up, Jamie!”

You flushed even deeper, but Harry just grinned and wrapped an arm around your shoulder and neck as he pulled you closer. “Nah, I think I just raised the bar.”

That made the girls whistle and the guy’s groaned at his words, and you just poked your cheek with your tongue.

Marnie rolled her eyes and tugged you away, but not before whispering, “So…”, she trailed off as another spin had been taking place, “Tell me everything.”

You bit your lip, smile creeping in. “He’s a good kisser.”

Marnie’s eyes widened knowing that you hadn’t had your first kiss yet, and the smile on her face was undeniably mixed with pride and wonder.

It was when you looked up and saw him on the other side of the fire for the first time since separating. Your eyes trailed over to him, noticing that he had already been glancing over at you; your pulse running a hundred miles a minute.

In an instant, you noticed that he hadn’t been paying attention the game anymore.

Instead, he stood from his spot between his friends, and walked around behind you and sat down quietly beside you on the blanket—close enough that your knees touched. He didn’t say anything right away. Just bumped your shoulder lightly with his and leaned back on his palms, eyes on the stars.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low so only you could hear.

You nodded, hugging your knees to your chest. “Yeah.”

A small silence bloomed, but you felt the small acknowledgement deeper than anything you had felt that summer.

Then, without looking at you, he added, “You’re a really good kisser, by the way.”

You turned sharply, wide-eyed, lips parted in disbelief. “I’ve never done that before.”

“I know,” he said; eyes twinkling like he knew he’d get that reaction from you, finally glancing at you with a smile so soft it made your stomach turn inside out. “That’s why I’m saying it.”

You stared at him, feeling the tightness in your chest loosen. His smile didn’t waver, either. And just like that, something in you settled. He looked away again, watching the sparks flicker up from the campfire.

His knee stayed pressed to yours the whole time. No one else seemed to notice. But you did; you noticed everything.

[pineconnie]

my stupid happy bird who has never been through anything bad ever 😊😊😊

[4urum-4rgentum]

Ok lets get one thing straight, Show percy isnt showing hostility towards Thalia. The fucking pinecone line was not a diss at thalia. It was a diss at zeus. He is angry for thalia. That her father didnt do enough to save her. He literally has no reason to feel hostile towards thalia yet. He is questioning zues's power. Not thalia's capabilities. Ffs-

[when-november-ends]

What do you need to let go?

Pile 1: The Leaf | Pile 2: The Pinecone | Pile 3: The Droplets

Disclaimer:

This reading was done with tarot cards, but only one was picked to represent each picture. This is also a collective reading, which means it is less accurate than a personalized one. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't. <3

The tarot deck used in this reading is The Wildwood Tarot.

The Leaf

Tarot Card: Ten of Bows

You need to stop feeling responsible for everyone and everything.

Other people and their emotions are not your responsibility. You can only do so much.

It's not healthy to overexplain yourself and walk on eggshells around others because you're afraid of upsetting them. If they care about you, they will make an effort to understand what you meant and not automatically take everything as an attack.

This card also calls out those who say yes to everything and overwhelm themselves with work because they want to help everyone.

Your worth is not based on how much you do for others, how much you take off everyone's plate or how much you do because otherwise it wouldn't get done.

Allow yourself to decline if someone asks you for something that feels like it's too much. It doesn't make you a bad person, it makes you human. Nobody can do it all and feel good while doing it.

Be you, be nice, but don't burden yourself with other people's problems.

The Pinecone

Tarot Card: The Shaman

Let go of the thought that everything has to make sense. That there has to be a reason for all the things that happen in this world.

Sometimes, bad things happen to people who do not deserve them.

There's no order to the universe and no spiritual ethics committee that decides whether or not it's okay to let something happen to a certain person.

Life is unpredictable and sometimes we just run out of luck for a while.

The bad things that happened to you weren't 'supposed to happen' or 'for the greater good'. You are allowed to be angry about it, because you deserved better, but the world failed you.

Stop justifying or rationalizing it. It was wrong, it was cruel, it shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry.

The Droplets

Tarot Card: Nine of Vessels

Your generosity is admirable. But it is also hurting you.

You give so much, to everyone you care about, but you cannot possibly refill your energy faster than you are currently emptying it.

I know you like to make others happy, and that it makes you happy as well. But you need to make sure that you're not going beyond your means.

You cannot help or save everyone. But you can always make sure that you are okay, so that you can continue helping others for as long as possible.

click here → My Etsy Shop

[6-atlas-6]

Your Warmth

Sam/Darlin' | 442 words

-------------------------<3--------------------------

"See Darlin', this is what a pantry is supposed to look like"

Sam swept his fingertips over the wood of the pantry door as he listened to his Darlin' laugh. A sound that he was adamant he'd never forget.

His heart felt warm, like they had covered it with a soft blanket just with the sound of their voice.

He stepped out of his kitchen, walking down the hallway and stopping in front of a small picture hung on the wall.

He grinned and pointed at it. "I remember when I took this. You were so pissed at me afterwards"

His Darlin' laughed again, rolling their eyes without saying a word. It was his favorite picture. A photo of Asher and Darlin' both shifted snuggling on the couch.

Sam laughed too, continuing to walk until he reached the sliding glass door leading to the backyard.

The porch was bare save for an old bench. There was no reason for it to be there, considering the view from it was completely obstructed, but he never found the energy to move it.

He stepped down the stairs, listening to the pinecones and branches crunching under his boots.

He stopped, taking his Darlin's hand before sitting on the ground, placing his palm on the back of their hand.

"Your magic knows mine. It's familiar. It's safe."

Sam pushed their hand forward, closing his eyes before bringing it closer to the small sapling in front of them.

He opened his eyes, a tear rolling down his cheek as he looked up at the leaves above him, a tall strong tree towering over where he sat.

There was no longer a sapling to reach for. His hand had hit stone.

His thumb moved in calming circles on the surface, just as he had always done to their skin. Anywhere he could touch.

Sam breathed in deep, listening to the sounds of the birds chirping, watching as the darkness slowly began to wash away.

He closed his eyes again. Despite the tears flowing freely down his face, he couldn't help but smile.

"It feels wrong, seein' this without you. You always loved the sun."

He tilted his head, letting it rest against the stone. He could see their smile, hear their laugh at his words.

They didn't speak. He didn't remember their voice. But he remembered their laugh. Just like he knew he would.

Most of all, he remembered their warmth. The way they pressed up against him as they slept, or laid on top of him when they shifted. They were always warm. Just like it was now.

"You were right, Darlin'. This does feel nice."

[ofswordsandpens]

it feels like the show is nailing certain aspects about the characters but only at the completely wrong time because Percy saying "she met a pinecone's fate"... don't get me wrong, the moment feels very true to the part of Percy that is a little shit <3 and it is funny, but it just stands in such stark contrast of his canon kindness and sympathy when he first learned of Thalia's fate that I'm just sitting here like ???

Like when Percy learns about Thalia in the book, he's very moved by her fate:

So comparing this reaction to the onscreen portrayal, its just like wild that the writers thought this was a "faithful change" lmao. Even if the line is criticizing the gods, it feels as if it comes at the expense of Percy's sincere empathy. imo the pinecone line feels much better suited to a future season where there's active animosity between Percy and Thalia, not when Percy is learning about a girl who died saving her friends.