#which is why I mention stopping at the Grand Canyon

[yourtipsygrandma]

I saw the Northern Lights and I’m having an extreme emotional reaction excuse me

[jayjaymorgan]

The Senator of the Forsaken - Part I

Author’s Note : This is a rewritten and, I hope, a better version of the fic previously known as The Senator and His Bodyguard. The plot has changed a lot, but I hope that you all enjoy it. @farkmagic thanks for the help with the story! Please remember that English isn't my native language, so there might be some mistakes and stuff. I hope you all like it, have a great day/night!

TW : mention of racism towards clones

Rex was nervous.

It wasn’t the first time he was here, in the Senate, but this time was different. Very different. The new armor felt tight and incredibly uncomfortable, especially the helmet, which he was holding under his arm. It would take some time to break the said armor in, so for now he had to endure it. “Grand Convocation Chamber – level 8.” said the metallic voice, informing the turbolift’s passengers that they have reached their destination. The door opened with a quiet hum and the man stepped out, looking around anxiously. The Grand Concourse, which was the large, canyon-like hallway that ringed the Grand Convocation chamber and ascended up and around the Senate Chamber, was packed with senators and diplomats, who were also accompanied by their counselors and bodyguards. Their voices bounced off of the stone walls, creating a deafening cacophony of sounds as they shouted to one another, arguing about something, some ready to throw hands. Rex walked along the wall, careful not to bump into anyone, until a voice called out among the noise, catching his attention. “Hey, new guy! Over here!” The clone looked around, spotting a dark skinned man dressed in blue armor, waving at him. He quickly realized that the man was the captain of the Senate Guard, the white symbol on his shoulder pad only confirming it. He approached the man, weaving through the crowded hallway with ease before stopping next to him and saluting. “CT-7567, at your service.” “At ease.” the captain said, turning around and motioning at the clone to follow him. “The meeting will start any moment now, we need to hurry.” Rex followed him,  countless questions racing in his head as they walked, slowly making their way to the Senate Arena through the crowded hallway. He didn’t know what was going on or what he was doing here, dressed in the blue armor of a Senate Guard, away from his brothers... “You okay?” “W-what?” the clone looked up at the man, caught off guard. “You look troubled.” he said, sending Rex a reassuring smile. “Are the nerves getting to you?” “Kind of... sir.” he admitted, looking away. “No shame in that, soldier.” the man said. “Tell me : do you have a name? Other than your identification code.” “Rex. My brothers called me Rex.” “I’m Doran. I’m the Senate Guard’s captain and your new boss. I expect that you have questions?” “I do. Quite a lot actually.” Rex said, getting a nod in response. “I’ll try to answer as many as I can.” “What am I doing here?” the moment he opened his mouth, all the questions came pouring out. “What are my duties? Am I being reassigned from the 501st? And why...?” “Whoa! Hold your horses!” Doran said, placing a hand on the clone’s shoulder. “One question at the time. Long story short, you are being temporarily reassigned from the 501st battalion to work as a personal bodyguard for one of the senators. You will be briefed later, once we clean up this mess.” He said, gesturing at the crowded hallway. “But basically, you will accompany the senator everywhere : public meetings, delegations, travels, everything, unless told otherwise.” he explained before handing Rex a datapad. “Here’s everything you need to know about the job : the list of your duties, reports, schedule and the do’s and don’t’s...” He suddenly stopped, catching the clone by surprise. He looked up and saw an elegant woman standing before them, dressed in a tasteful, blue-gray patterned dress, with a gold panel and a dark shawl draped loosely around her shoulders. She wore only a few pieces of jewelry, which consisted of a pair of silver earrings and three broaches of the same color, that decorated the mentioned shawl. A crescent-shaped hair accessory held her long, brown hair in place and she turned to them and bowed her head, smiling warmly. She didn’t have to introduce herself, one look at her and Rex immediately knew who she was. “Senator Amidala.” the captain said, returning the gesture. “I didn’t see you there.” “Hello, Doran.” she responded, before her eyes landed at the clone. “You must be the new guard Doran mentioned, am I right?” “Yes, sir, ma’am, I mean...” Rex looked down, embarrassed. “’Senator’ is just fine.” she said, then looked back at Doran. “I can take it from here, captain.” “Are you sure, senator?” “Yes. I know that you’ve been really bust and I don’t want you working overtime, again.” “If you insist, senator. Rex, please accompany senator Amidala to the chamber.” the man said, turning to the clone. “Stop by my office in the evening, when the night guards take over.” “Yes, sir.” They watched as Doran walked away, into the crowd, before turning back to face one another. “Shall we?” Amidala asked, motioning with her hand. “Of course.” he offered her his arm, which she gladly took, and started leading the way, slowly making their way to the repulsorpods. “It’s an honor to met you, senator.” “Likewise, Rex.” she said. “I’ve heard great things about you, about your service at the front.” “Well, I was just doing my job.” “Don’t be so modest.” she lightly tugged at his arm, so he didn’t bump into a wall. “Watch out.” “Forgive me for my curiosity, but do you know who I will be protecting?” he asked, once he got his bearings. “Also, from what I heard, when a senator’s life is threatened, a Jedi is assigned as their bodyguard, not a clone.” “What you’ve heard is true, but this is an exception. I won’t go into the details, but he refused to have a Jedi assigned to him for... various reasons.” Padmé explained. “And to answer your first question, we’re on our way to see him.” Rex nodded, which was followed by of few moments of uncomfortable silence. He couldn’t help but notice how some of the gathered looked at him as they made their way through the crowded hallway. They looked at him with surprised looks, which quickly turned into ones of anger, judgment, even disgust. To them, clones were lesser beings, tools that just happened to breathe and have consciousness. Seeing one, here, in the Senate, one of the most protected places on the whole planet, was like seeing a dirty, disease carrying vermin. He was used to this kind of treatment, but he still couldn’t help looking down, to avoid looking at the people surrounding him. He felt ashamed and so out of place, at this point the battlefield filled with droids seemed more welcoming that this place. “Ignore them.” The clone looked up, caught off guard. The woman walking next to him slightly tightened her grip on his elbow, her head held high. He haven’t even realized that he tried to pull away from her until then. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly, glancing around. “I don’t want to ruin your reputation...” “I don’t care what they’ll think of me. You’re a good human being, with absolute no reasons for shame : you saved countless lives, set an example for others, you were chosen for a reason, Rex.” she said, her voice cold and stern. He couldn’t help but shiver at the sudden change in her behavior, even though it wasn’t directed at him. “You’re the first clone to be assigned a job here, inside the Senate, but not the last. Others will, hopefully, follow, once they see yours and your siblings’ potential. It’s a small step for you, but a leap for others. You should be proud.” Rex opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t come up with anything. Instead, he shook his head slightly, a smile forming on his face. Her words made him feel better, even so slightly. “I think he did it on purpose.” “Who did?” he asked. “Ani.” she responded, her gaze fixed on something ahead of them. “I think he requested for a clone to be assigned as his bodyguars to show everyone that he doesn’t, excuse my language, gives a kriff about what they think about him. And to give you a chance to show what you’re made of.” The blond man blinked, surprised at her words. “We’re here.” she said, stopping all of the sudden. They were now standing next to an entrance, which lead inside the Grand Convocation Chamber and the repulsorpods. “He should be inside, come on.” She let go off his elbow, leading the way, greeting a few fellow senators along the way before disappearing inside. Rex took a deep breath and followed after her, not quite ready yet determined to face what was waiting for him at the other side.

[myneighborhood-thelake]

Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim, May 2024

Wednesday, May 22nd , 2024 to Thursday, May 23rd, 2024

45.3 miles

10,710 feet of descent (that be the downhill parts)

10,310 feet of ascent (that be the uphilly parts)

Route: start on South Rim, 

down South Kaibab (7.4 miles, 4,700’ descent)

up North Kaibab (13.6 miles, 5,695’ ascent) arriving at North Rim

down North Kaibab (13.6 miles, 5,695’ descent) (wow, you go back and forth on the same trail and the distance and elevation match)

Up Bright Angel (9.5 miles, 4,314’ ascent, arriving back at the South Rim

Don’t @ me that those numbers are a little off… I used Phantom Ranch as my trail start/terminus because that’s where I stopped.

A little background, in 2019 I did Rim-to-River-to-Rim with my good friend. At Phantom Ranch, I seriously asked if we could just keep following the North Kaibab trail and do what we really wanted to do: Rim-to–Rim-to-Rim, but wiser heads prevailed. That was my friend, not me. Ever since, I’ve been thinking about doing the double crossing of the Canyon in a non-stop, or non-camping, manner. Why? Because that’s how I wanted to do it.

Wednesday I caught a flight into Phoenix, grabbed my rental car and shot north to the Canyon, arriving around 5pm at my hotel in Tusayan, the hotel and restaurant town a few minutes outside of the park. Check in was easy. I had stopped on the way to get a couple gallons of water and a Subway sandwich for the trail, so I did not need to grab dinner. After loading, and weighing my pack

(new CamelBak Octane with my old 3 liter reservoir) I ate ½ of the sandwich and made a few calls. Yes, my pack was definitely overdone. There was no need for 13 pounds.

Thanks subway staff! They got the bread wrong, and it tasted terrible. Of course I would still carry the other ½ sandwich into the Canyon with me, but I knew I wouldn’t eat it.

After closing the blinds and setting an alarm, I laid out for a little pre-event sleep. Thankfully I was able to get an hour or so of a nap in before my alarm barked at me at 8:50pm. By 9:15 I was on my way into the Park, and by 9:30 I had parked, walked to Bright Angel Lodge and called the park taxi. I’d recently learned that there was a Park taxi (only one of them), and they can take directly to the South Kaibab trailhead which is not accessible to normal vehicles. After waiting a while to get slotted, I was given a “be ready in 20 minutes” from the dispatcher. Inside the hotel lobby it was warm and not windy (that’s what real authors call “foreshadowing”).

A guy about 10 years older than me was in the lobby waiting for his daughter to drive her car up and get him. They had done Rim-to-Rim that day (North to South), and he was hurting bigtime. He mentioned more than a few times how the footing on the North Kaibab trail was terrible. Yes, backcountry trails on steep terrain are always pretty terrible. It’s ain’t a bike path. They rolled out, and I waited a bit longer until I saw the taxi arrive.

I had turned on and started the GPS tracker that I had borrowed, so the only pause was to take a picture of the trailhead.

Hoping to get out of the wind, or that it might slack off the lower I got I started heading down the trail. SK is pretty steep, but the wind was not quick to abate. During my last trek here, I had shed my rain shell very early. Today I was going to keep it on for protection from the flying dust and debris.

A few switchbacks down I spotted some lights below me. Cool, someone to catch. Yes, I’m externally motivated. It’s not the best way to live, but it’s who I am. 

The switchbacks kept coming, as did the log ladders and mixed trail terrain. Some sections were runnable, so I did. The switchbacks that hit at exposed peaks were definitely a sketchy. With massive dropoffs on either side and wind gusts that rocked the body, these points required some thought. Mainly that thought was “crouch down, so that you don’t get blown over the side to your death.” The darkness exacerbated the fear of falling to my demise. It wasn’t that bad, but mentally, and being alone, it was a thought I couldn’t shake.

At some point I caught up to the couple ahead of me, said a few greetings and scooted past. They had trekking poles and were navigating the uneven trail a bit slower than I was. In the darkness I missed Ooh-Ahh point and it’s famous view. Granted, there’s not much to see in the dark anyway. I had picked a full moon for my trek, but it was not illuminating much. I tried turning my headlamp off a few times because I love trekking by moonlight, but the shadows were too dark and hid critical details that could easily lead to a twisted ankle or maybe worse (steep terrain, dropoffs, ….. You get the picture). I wanted to get rid of my jacket, but was getting buffeted still and decided it was not quite the right time even though I was heating up.

I was doing my usual sipping frequently from my camelbak reservoir and it felt like I was stopping to pee every 5 minutes. That was concerining because it was coming out very clear which is a sign that fluids are passing right through.

Finally I was able to shed my jacket, while moving, which felt amazing.

Turning one corner, I noticed even more lights below me that led to  believe there were a few more people on trail below me. There was not, as I’d learn later, but it would have been nice had there been.

Soon I hit the junction with the River Trail which felt pretty soon. Then I was really shocked to come up to the tunnel at Phantom Ranch Bridge (or black bridge as some call it). I was really shocked. I’d been on trail for about 2 hours but didn’t think I’d come this far as mainly I’d just been putting one foot in front of the other and and making forward progress. This was a cool boost!

I crossed the bridge and headed with the flow of the river toward Bright Angel Campground and Phantom Ranch. At Phantom, I topped off my water reservoir and hopped back on trail within a few minutes. It was dark, the air was cool, and life was good. Why not make time?

Heading out of Phantom the trail did what it does and started moving upwards again. About the first half (7’ish) miles of North Kaibab trail are more gradual with 4% to 7% grades which is where one can put some miles in. The longest section of the trail without services is between Phantom Ranch and Cottonwood campground which are a little less than 7 miles apart. This is also the hottest part of the trail during the day. Several miles are in between towering cliffs where the heat has nowhere to go, this section is called “The Box.” Of course, at 1am, it wasn’t hot at all. The full moon was providing some super cool illumination on the cliffs, but I still needed my headlamp for trail details. Just above the box, there was a stream in the middle of the trail which I avoided. Wet feet can be the end of a hike. A few hundred feet up, it was clear that it wasn’t a stream but a break in the water line.

Uh-oh. The water line supplied the North side water stops. Would they now be shutoff?

I was still making good time and decided that, even with the waterline break, I would skip refilling at Cottonwood and go the next 1.4 miles up to Manzanita rest stop to refill. Made it to Manzanita and the water was still on, so I quickly refilled my reservoir and got back on trail. Now it was steep again with an 11% grade. I was thinking longingly of the 7 mile stretch between Cottonwood and Phantom Ranch and how nice it would be to jog that section once I returned to it later in the day. I still think it would be nice to jog that section someday.

I was starting to see headlamps above me from the people who had done an early start on their Rim-to-Rim treks staring from the North Rim. I loved the solitude of being alone in a very popular national park, but it’s also good to know that a few people are around.

I have read different numbers, but it is said that out of 4.75 Million people who visit the Grand Canyon every year, only 5% go below the rim (at all) and less than 10% of those folks make it to the river. That would be about 0.5% of visitors make it Rim-to-River-to-Rim or Rim-to-Rim. I can’t find any data on who many people do double that up and do Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim on any given year.

Let’s divert a bit and talk about how this can be done… Yes, there are many options. Some people hike straight through, they leave the North Rim in the dark and traverse to the South Rim over the course of 10-20 hours. Another choice is to overnight camp along the way at one of several campgrounds (reservations REQUIRED). I’m not against the concept, but the thought of carrying a tent and sleeping bag up the other side of the canyon sounds way too hard to me. Yet another choice is to reserve a cabin at Phantom Ranch where you can also get dinner and breakfast. Because it is a cabin, you don’t have to haul camping gear.

Speaking of Phantom Ranch, they do sell a few things to hikers including ice cold lemonade. A lot of people talk about it like it’s an elixir from the gods. Personally I would prefer to keep walking and not waste time stopping, buying and drinking something that needs to have it’s cup recycled at the location.

Back on trail, it was good to see people. Most honored trail etiquette - whoever is going uphill has the right of way, so I got to keep plugging along. It was finally light, and I was able to ditch my headlamp finally which was lovely. Up, up, up, I went. Seeing many folks who had questions, “when did you start?” “how are you doing?” and the obligatory “You’re ALMOST there!”

Note to the trail gods, I was NOT “almost there.” It was nice for folks to say it, but after every group said it, and I could see at least 1,000’ vertical to gain I started thinking “Do they think that I am almost there, or are they being incredibly nice?”

Answer: they were being nice.

At this point, the trail had more and more major step ups and log ladders, and my left knee was really hating me. Over the years, my patella, which does not track correctly, has ground away the cartilage from my femur, so any 90deg bend with force causes a massive stab of pain. OK, step ups would only be with my right leg from now on. Plus, as I was gaining altitude it was getting a bit chilly. Keep moving. My sleeveless t-shirt does not provide a ton of warmth.

I had tried to use one of the long-sleeve sun protecting hoodies, but I really didn’t like it. It just wasn’t for me. Another tangent, so much of this stuff is personal. What gear do you bring, what shoes do you wear, how many layers do you bring, what do you eat? It’s all a matter of trial and error.

At some point, I came across a group of Chinese couples who were descending for their R2. The guy at the lead of their pack asked me a few questions and finally asked “are you doing R3?”

“Uhhhh, yeah. At least I’m hoping to. Need to finish Rim-to-Rim first.”

For years I did not bring people in. I had a “NOBODY CARES. WORK HARDER” sticker in huge letters on my handstand pushup wall. After a lot of work on myself, it turns out that A LOT of people care. Even strangers from another country can care. The lead guy yelled back to the rest of their crew who congratulated me with every person I walked past. It was pretty cool.

The trail though? It didn’t care. It just kept going uphill.

Not too far from what really was the end, there was crew of about 5 guys who took up most of the trail and refused to share. There are always those folks out there. Everyone else was cool as heck.

And then… the final stretch, well, for this section, and I was at the North Rim. It was cold. I didn’t need water, so I took my selfie at the North Rim sign, used the GPS personal locator to send an “I’m OK” message and went back down the trail.

Unfortunately, my legs were more than a bit wrecked. That I could only step up with my right leg meant I could also only lower myself with my right leg when there were rocks and logs to step down from, and the muscles along my left shin were screaming in pain too. I was good and assessed if this meant I should call it a day and try to get a shuttle to the South Rim, but I could still move even if only slowly.

Down we go again… Step downs were not fun. Plant right foot, pivot on it, lower left leg to the ground below, repeat, repeat, repeat. Oh, and blisters were cropping up too. There is a water filling stop at Supai tunnel which I targeted for my refill and blister treatment. Once I covered the 1.7 miles to the tunnel, I took a break, pulled off my pack and dug out my blister kit.

I say “dug out,” but the Octane pack is pretty well organized. I simply located the blister kit in the little internal pouch, pulled out the tiny scissors and started lancing blisters. One circled the back of my heel where the insole ended. 20 miles to go and now my shoes finally show their true colors. After refilling my water and bandaging my blisters, I got back to what needed to be done, losing elevation. Damn I was going slow though. Way too slow but having to walk differently to avoid pain was a slow process.

I’ve done it many times before in many situations. There was no danger, I had food and water and was regularly ingesting salt tablets. It’s a mind-game now. The plans I had roughly sketched out where out of the window, and it would be a day of slow and steady progress.

The trail and terrain look so different coming down than going up and not just because there was now light to see.

As with all alpine type trails, distances are weird. I saw a building below me which I thought was the Manzanita rest stop, and it looked very close. Problem was, it was not the Manzanita rest stop, and to get to it required a lot more switchbacks and uneven terrain. It’s almost sad when you realize it’s a building I couldn’t have seen in the morning on the way up.

Around now, more people were coming up the trail too, doing a South to North version of Rim-to-Rim, with a few doing R3. Also came across a guy lugging a mountain bike across the Grand Canyon, because the Canyon is part of the Arizona Trail. You can’t ride a mountain bike through the canyon, so, if you are doing the AZ trail by mountain bike, you have to carry it across. That’s hardcore.

I passed a few R2 hikers, even in my slow state there are always folks moving slower, and heard some people talking behind me. I have a fragile ego and didn’t want to get passed this close to Manzanita rest stop, so I picked up the pace a bit. By “a bit” I only mean 1-2%. I wasn’t winning any prizes today. Thankfully, Manzanita appeared, and I was able to hop off the trail before getting passed. I said it, and I meant it. I have a fragile ego.

The two guys also hopped in to the rest stop. One taking the seat next to me at the picnic table and immediately pulling his pants off.

OK, he had running shorts underneath, but that did not stop me from remarking “it’s not everyday a guy I don’t know takes his pants off next to me.”

I didn’t need water, but I did use the time to apply a nice layer of sunscreen. The slurry of sunscreen, trail dust, and salt crystals is probably a great sun protection, but it’s kind of gross too. 10 minute break over it was time to get back on trail. I was not happy at this point. I should be able to run some of this, but my legs were not allowing any of that. The 1.4 miles to Cottonwood took just as long going down as they had going up in the morning.

Actually, it was still morning, around 9am or so (?), but I had been going since 10:30pm last night. At Manzanita I used the GPS to message that I was safe (have to say that or people freak out) but struggling and plans have changed. I’d probably be stopping for a while once I got to Phantom Ranch. That lemonade that I had distained earlier was sounding pretty darn good.

It’s pretty wide open at this point with the nothing to block the sun. My boony hat with neck guard was doing a great job of keep my head, neck and face protected, but nothing was protecting me from my slow progress. There were a lot more northbound folks on the traill, and they looked a LOT fresher than I felt. They kept saying “good morning” too which was incredibly surreal. Didn’t they know it was late afternoon already? Except it was not late afternoon.

They guys who had been behind me at Manzanita would leap frog me. They walked faster but took frequent breaks. Soon enough I hit Cottonwood Campground. No need to stop for water, so I kept going. There are a few uphills in this section, and those did not feel fantastic. Again, no danger, no worries, just keep moving the legs.

When I hit the part of the trail with the water line break I knew I was close to the heat of the box. It wasn’t the heat of the day, but it was later than I had hoped to be there. Drink, talk salt tablets, eat as I could, keep plugging.

My only thought when entering the Box was to get through the Box and into Phantom Ranch, which is really close to the end of the Box. The only way to get out of the box is to keep walking, and, at some point, instead of seeing canyon walls, the sky will open up to show the South Rim. Oh hey, the South Rim is 4,000’ vertical above, and will need to be dealt with at some point today. All in it’s time though.

My history of epic events has taught me some very critical lessons: I’m not very smart, and I can dig deep and grind out distance when most people can’t. It’s about turning inward and just making progress when the only thing you can do is make incremental progress.

I was probably down to 1.5 miles per hour now, and that was downhill. Ugh.

Every corner revealed a new section of canyon walls instead of open sky, and the Box was getting warm. Even with the roaring creek beside us this section just held a lot of  heat. The trail varied sides of the creek as the 7 bridges criss crossed it. One more bridge down meant a little closer to a long break. More canyon meant another corner to hope to see the South Rim. By now, I was sitting regularly for a break. My legs wanted it, so I gave it to them.

The first deep drink from my camelbak was inevitably hot, and the 2nd and 3rd, which had not been exposed to the sun, were delightfully cool. I was cherishing those 2nd and 3rd sips.

Another corner, and still more canyon walls. In the distance I would see the 2 guys who I’d talked with earlier. They weren’t making that much headway in comparison. At some point, the canyon walls fell away and Phantom Ranch appeared. I really wanted that lemonade.

The steps up to the window counter at Phantom were not nice to me, but I got my lemonade, 2 ice cold apples, and a small bag of peanuts (more salt for the fluid absorption). There was a picnic table, in the shade, so I took it. Sipping lemonade and enjoying a couple of lovely apples. 

Given that I had been on trail for 12 or so hours, with no sleep, I decided to set an alarm and take a 30 minute nap. You know you’re tired when you are old and immediately all asleep while laying the bench of an old picnic table.

I woke up when my girlfriend lightly scratched her nails on my shin to get my attention.

Except I was doing this solo, how they hell did she get here? Oh, it was a squirrel trying to climb me to get to my apple core. The mind is an amazing thing.

The Chinese crew was a Phantom too, and they were very interested in my condition. They were expats living in Toronto, and we had a nice chat.

After an hour at Phantom it was time to move on again. I wanted to soak my feet and legs in the cold Colorado river, but the Phantom access was upriver, so I targeted the river access that was across the Silver Bridge and up the trail a ways. As I left Bright Angel campground, the “pants off” guy from the duo asked if I had seen his buddy. They had gotten separated. 

“You mean your friend with the blue shirt?” 

“ummm, I have no idea what color shirt he has on, I’m color blind” 

“oh hey! Me too… the dark shirt?”

“Yeah him. He went back to the store for something and hasn;’t come through”

“No, I haven’t seen him”

Crossing the Silver (OK, the “galvanized”) bridge, a couple of motor rafts drifted below. Maybe they had the better way of seeing the Canyon.

I wasn’t emotional at all, no frustration or anger. I knew that my plans were out the window, but the true nature of all of this was in dealing with what is versus what one wanted things to be. The section between Silver Bridge and the river access (before the trail turns left and heads up again) is pretty mellow. The section where the trail is beach sand is a bit challenging. Mainly it was all just warm. Very warm.

At the river access, a construction crew was working with some type of cable. I assume it was massive power cables, so I chose not to do my soak there. I know there are a few places where a creek crosses the trail up ahead. Thankfully there was one just a few yards up, so gladly stopped and dropped my pack. The cold water felt great on my feet and knee, and I took the time to do some more blister surgery.

Unfortunately, as I put on fresh socks, which I had debated about carrying, I knocked my sunglasses into creek which swiftly took them away. It was getting into later afternoon, still sunny, but I hoped I could get by with lowering my hat.

Back on trail, up I went. If I haven’t said “stead motion” a hundred times by now, just wait, I’ll easly get to 100 by the time this over.

The two guys came through this section and rested for a bit and headed out before me

Bright Angel trail is about 10 miles, and it’s roughly divided up into sections. It’s about 5 miles from Phantom to Havasupai Campground (the only water source turned on today), then it’s 1.5 miles to 3 Mile Resthouse, 1.5 miles to Mile-and-a-Half Resthouse (quick, do the math on that…) and then another 1.5 miles to the South Rim. The section to Havasupai was a slow slog. Somewhere on the Devil’s Corkscrew, which is a series of switchbacks that is really visible from above, a guy flew past me wearing full pants, boots, and a firefighter helmet while also holding a radio. It was impressive and disheartening.

The two guys were ahead of me, and I could see them on occasion, never catching up to them.

During the section where the creek runs in the middle of the trail, another shirtless firefighter blew past me. “How far is he ahead of me?” he asked, “I have to catch him.” You go bro.

Surprisingly I caught up to the two guys. We chatted for a bit wondering how much farther Havasupai was. We estimated at last another mile or mile and a half. This is where there is a creek on the South side, and the greenery and animal sounds were amazing. They kept me company as I moved along at my 1.5 mile per hour pace. Then I hit Havasupai, took a seat, took off my hat and pack, and rested. 

The Chinese crew was here too as they had left Phantom well before me. The duo arrived too. I rested, filled my water reservoir, ate a little, and rested some more. By now I was using a stop watch to keep track of my stops. I will look at my watch but never remember the time. Seeing “10 minutes” on a stopwatch is much more effective. At 5:40pm, the duo and I pulled on our packs to leave and discussed how much time we had left.

“It’s about 1 ½ miles between each next stop (3 mile, 1 ½ mile, South Rim), with about 1,000 feet of vertical between each. At my pace of 1.5 mph, that’s roughly 3 hours plus stops, so I’m saying 9pm on the Rim”

Hey, I sounded like I knew what I was talking about. Confidence when speaking is critical.

I pulled on my pack and started up the trail. It was now early evening, it was cooling off, and the sun was not beating down. If you are paying attention, I wasn’t, you’ll notice that I forgot something.

About 20 minutes later I realized I had forgotten my hat. Oops, but there was no way I was going back for it. Somebody can get some use out of it. Instead I started thinking about hat shopping. What kind would I replace it with?

I had forecasted an hour of hard hiking between each waypoint, so I used time as my measurement. I should get to 3 Mile at 6:40pm, and I kept looking at my watch as I walked about. 6:01pm. 6:07pm, 6:20pm. Etc. etc. It was my way to guage progress. I also caught and passed the Canadian Chinese crew. 4 married couples who adventured together and trained together. We chatted for a while, but I need to keep my pace. After leaving them a French guy caught up to me “excuse me, did you leave a hat at the water stop?”

Yes, yes, I did.

“My friend is carrying it…” OK, I waited a minute for the friend who handed me my hat and scooted up the trail. No way I was taking my pack off, so I rolled it up and held it in my hand. I really didn’t pause in hiking, did take a short seat a time or two, and at 6:30 the 3 Mile Resthouse’s beauty appeared before me.

Normally when I hike long, my fingers swell significantly. It’s not sodium, it’s that edema pools in my fingers. I had noticed it for most of the day, but it, very surprisingly, had gone away in my right hand. Holding onto my had cleared the edema from my hand. Maybe I should look at getting some decent trekking poles with large grips in order to force my hands to hold something and reduce the swelling?

OK then, making good time all things considered. I went past the resthouse and took a seat on a rock. A young couple I’d been leap frogging with ended their break at the resthouse and started up ahead of me. There was no way I’d be catching them.

Throughout the day, I had noticed one set of shoe prints with a distinct “Adidas” logo, and I started seeing it again. Was it him or her? The dust of the trail held perfect shoe impressions, but only briefly, so it became a game to track the Adidas logo and guess which one of them it was.

You have to do something to pass the time.

If you have never done it, pushing forward for literally hours on end is a reward unto itself. It takes WORK to gain 1,000’ of vertical in a mile and a half (approximately an 11% grade). This trail section is better than most with several decent sections, but there are alway log ladders and step ups to overcome. My left leg felt a lot better since soaking in the creek, and I was able to judiciously use in on smaller step ups to save my right leg. For the bigger step ups it was “adjust stride to put left foot at the base of the step up, step up with the right leg, then push myself up and over.”

At 7:30 I hit the Mile and a Half Resthouse, right on my adjusted schedule. After a brief sit, it was time for the final push to the Rim.

I had not seen the duo since Havasupai, and I had managed to catch a couple of people. It wasn’t a lot, but it was still a nice mental boost.

The Bright Angle Tunnel came out of nowehere much to my joy, but I forget that it’s further down trail than I want to admit. There was still time left in my day. Right about then I heard strong footsteps behind me. It was a guy I’d seen a time or two during the day in a party of four. One of their team was hurting, so he was charging ahead to get some food for the guy and bring it back down. That’s impressive.

He also told me that Maswik Lodge has a food court. By now, my thoughts had turned to “what am I going to eat when I’m off this trail, and where can I get some LEMONADE?”

Food court you say??? Hmmmmm.

The guy said we were 3 switchbacks away from the end. Granted, the last switchback is a haul from the trailhead, but it was good info. I came across two women, one of whom had pushed it too hard sensing the end, and was heaving at the side of the trail. They assured me that they had what they needed. OK, the woman who was not heaving assured me that they have fluids and clothing and headlamps after I had checked to see if they needed any help, so I kept moving forward.

Then, there it was, the buildings at the edge of the Rim! 20 hours to the minute instead of what should have been about 17, but life is what you make of it.

I didn’t see the big Bright Angel sign and wanted to get to my car, so I took at quick selfie at the trailhead sign and hoofed it to my rental SUV. it felt sooooooooo nice to take off my running shoes, socks and gaiters and put on my Teva’s. Pure bliss.

Of course I was shivering uncontrollably in the wind and from the exertion. After changing shoes, notifying everyone I was OK, and texting Monika and my kids, it was time to roll. My intent was to get out of the park, but, driving past Maswik, which looked open, I had to stop in. After acquiring 4 slices of cheese pizza I was on my way to my hotel. Stopping at the minimart in Tusayan, I scored a lemonade, a coke, and a Double IPA. All sounded delicious.

The parking lot was full, so I did the back lot which required a set of downstairs to get to my room. That was a challenge.

In my hotel I made a few calls. My 89yo mother had been more than a little worried. Monika was incredibly happy for me and also no fan of the GPS tracking software. My kids were cool that I was still breathing. I enjoyed the lemonade and coke, AND the pizza. It wasn’t that great to be honest, but I loved it.

Then I hopped in the showing to erase 20 hours of trail dust and grime. I’m sure the hotel is used to it, but I felt bad that the washcloth was far from white when I was finished. At least I was clean!

And then I slept, and a good sleep it was. So good. 11 hours of bliss.

Then I headed back into the park. The line took a bit, but it wasn’t too bad. Plus, my free veteran park pass meant I didn’t have to pay. The main lots were full, so my goal of getting a picture at Mather Point wasn’t going to happen. I was feeling pretty good but not like walking a mile or two. Nor was I interested in riding the park shuttle. A quick stop at the Market Plaza allowed me to find a replacement pair of sunglasses for the drive to Phoenix. Then I drove over and found a hidden parking spot near Bright Angel. I might not have been able to get to Mather Point, but I wanted a couple of daytime pictures.

After that, I pointed the car south, and then west for a visit with my friend Mark and his wife Beth in Prescott. Based on Beth’s suggestion, I was able to book a short massage the next day also. Seeing their town, laughing about life, and explaining the fun I had had the day before was a fantastic detour. After my massage, Mark and I grabbed lunch, we were able to swing by Beth’s shop for a goodbye, then I was off for the 2 hour drive to Phoenix airport and my flight home.

Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim is now done.

Will I go back again? Probably. I know a couple of people who are interested in doing Rim-to-Rim, and, well, though the experience has been achieved, and in my core I am entirely an experience junky, there’s that little thing about doing Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim with style, and speed, that is brewing at the back of my mind.

It’s just a little thought though.

At least it’s a little thought for now….

45.3 miles

10,710 feet of descent

10,310 feet of ascent

19 hours and 51 minutes

Note: this is nowhere near what the route is, but it gives a general idea of where things run. The trail I started on is about 5 miles to my right and can’t be seen in this picture.

[audio-luddite]

Old CDs

Specifically TELARC from the 1980s. Back when CDs were the future I climbed on that wagon. Telarc bragged about their all digital process which I think used the Soundstream system. They made very good recordings. Several sources claim that they were 16 bit 50 kHz. Why would you ever need more!? Oh and now it must be converted to a slower sampling rate for CDs. Oh dear! The math, the math!

I have a handful of Telarc CDs. My Carmina Burana is a Telarc. I have some others with Eric Kunzel with the Cincinnati Symphony. One I mentioned before was the Grand Canyon Suite with digital thunder. They went into that stuff like real canons in the 1812 Overture.

Anyway I am a bit puzzled as I know I have heard the Telarc 1812 as I clearly recall the other tracks on it Capriccio Italien, and Mazepa. I do not have it anywhere I can find. I also remember a disk called "Ein Straussfest" which had a track with gun shots. Being Telarc they used real guns. Again not in my stash.

It may be that I borrowed them from, or lent them to a friend I just don't recall. My wife uses some CDs as weights to hold down papers when she is cutting out patterns for sewing. I should check there too.

Here comes the rabbit hole.

Of course I went to see if there were any of these out in the "verse". Of course there are. Discogs has lots. I found out that people have painstakingly documented every issue and pressing of most of the Telarc CDs. HUH?! Apparently there are worse and better pressings of polycarbonate just like for vinyl. Some were done in Japan by JVC or Matsushita or several others. Some were done in Europe by Polydor. Oh and some issues were clipped or poorly mastered. They did that with CDs? It should just be a FN digital file.

So rather than just slag them as CDs and stop there they curate the better and worse ones. This is a tribe I never knew existed. So now aside from just buying a clean disc you need to see if it is off a good batch. Life is so complicated!

Hey I just want the music. I love vinyl, but I like most of my CDs. Some of those are my favorites for a given recording. Many are my only recording of a piece. My Mercury Living Presence CDs are excellent as are some Telarcs.

And you know what, since CDs are obsolete they let me keep my Luddite spirit intact.

[juniorgman187]

Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)

Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid. 

A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Prologue

Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail. 

The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them. 

These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match. 

It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one. 

The newest addition to the list is her. 

_ _ _

Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible. 

I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him. 

A trillion. At least. 

For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him. 

“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening. 

Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.

As a superior. 

I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).

The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.

Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book. 

But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach. 

Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him. 

“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it. 

And probably because she just said it to me right now. 

“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence. 

“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”

That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?

“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity. 

“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.” 

I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels. 

“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.” 

That surely kept us apart. 

Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!

Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!

Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that. 

Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work. 

If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age. 

Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.

I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.” 

Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.

“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?” 

Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me. 

“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.

No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”

Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Maybe 99.99%.

_ _ _

I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too. 

I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me. 

What was going on? 

What is going on?

“What’s going on?” 

Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before. 

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with. 

“What do you think about me dating again?” 

If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue. 

To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”

Thinking about Max that is. 

Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch. 

We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.

So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that? 

JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”

I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”

“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”

There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted. 

“I’m ready.”

Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.

_ _ _

I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.

“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”

Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought. 

I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.

“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish. 

“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.” 

Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.” 

I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine. 

I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?” 

Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …” 

In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag. 

I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one. 

Red. 

“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice. 

And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect. 

_ _ _ 

My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes. 

That story for later? This is the one. 

Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do. 

There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really. 

As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates. 

Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.

No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down. 

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word. 

“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.” 

“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.

With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”

I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”

My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered. 

Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.

“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.” 

His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise. 

The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.

Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?

In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well. 

If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand. 

If he kissed me.  

Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.

I would have never guessed it would lead me here. 

Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.

_ _ _ 

No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe. 

I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting. 

I don’t wanna seem the way I do 

Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all. 

Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.

I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way. 

It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half. 

I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress. 

Then there she was.

All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes. 

I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner. 

“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently. 

I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance. 

“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go. 

Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that. 

But I’m confident when I’m with you 

“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained. 

“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.

“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.

“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it. 

“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke. 

“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable. 

“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me. 

“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again. 

“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.” 

“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said. 

“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.” 

_ _ _ 

“In what way?” 

Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer. 

That look ...

“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated. 

“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet. 

“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.” 

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.

“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.

“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him. 

“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”

“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?” 

That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock. 

“You think I’m perfect?” 

“That, or you’re pretty close to it.” 

Lately all I feel is bad and bruised

I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed. 

“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.” 

“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was. 

“How am I wrong?” 

He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same. 

“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?” 

The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?

Tired of tripping on my shoes

“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”

He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.

“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.” 

I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own. 

That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger. 

“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”

But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice. 

“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine. 

_ _ _ 

“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?

“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”

That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission. 

I was the first. 

He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”

“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him. 

“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t. 

Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line. 

That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.

“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 

“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.

“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face. 

“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.” 

The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!” 

I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’

“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand. 

I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day. 

_ _ _ 

We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter. 

“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.

“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility. 

From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg. 

I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.

“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.

“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things. 

In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?” 

In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.” 

“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me. 

Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite. 

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.

Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.

“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.

“I’m here.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else. 

My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”

The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered. 

Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.

I was infinite. 

Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.

You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

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[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

The second and third obstacles! And Mei’s first big showing, because of course. 

[No. 25 - In Their Own Quirky Ways]

Ochako, Tsuyu, and Mina are all standing still, staring at the next obstacle as Present Mic announces it. He calls the first barrier ‘a piece of cake,’ the notes that for the second, you fall and you’re out, so you have to crawl across if you want to make it. The obstacle, oh, nothing big, just the fucking Grand Canyon with the bottom encased in the goddamn void:

Despite all reasonable reservations about crossing, Tsuyu takes the leap (metaphorically) and starts creeping along one of the ropes, calling it a giant tightrope. She giggles to herself, saying this is her chance to make a splash. (God, a girl after my heart, I love her sense of humor between this and the USJ.)

Next we are introduced to our resident spark - I mean support course student, Hatsume Mei (abet we don’t get her name yet here, but she’s emphasized enough that it’s obvious she’s gonna be important soon.) He’s cackling a bit maniacally, talking about how it’s time for her support items to get the spotlight, calling out to the national support companies to look at her wire arrow and hover soles - the items she just so happens to be wearing, along with a few other gadgets.

Ochako realizes Mei is in the support course, while Mina is shocked that she’s allowed to have her gear. Mei points out to them that the hero course students get practical battle training, right? So in the interest of fairness, as long as they developed the gear themselves, using equipment’s just fine! In fact, for the support course students, it’s the greatest opportunity to show off their inventiveness and craftmanship to the industry! 

Mei cackles some more as she shoots off her hookshot - I mean wire arrow, the end impacting and catching on one of the pillars with a klang. Mei leaps off of the side of the canyon, again calling out to all the corporations to check out her ‘adorable babies’ while clicking on a button on her devise that starts reeling her in, as well as activates the hover function of her boots. Ochako and Mina are fired up, Ochako rushing to chase after while Mina continues to complain about it being unfair. 

Shinsou, meanwhile, is being a little bit creepy, just watching on with a slight leer as he just says ‘cool.’ Wonder what he’s doing here… hmm…

Up in the announcers’ booth, Mic states how they have all types trying to make it big in the sports festival. Aizawa, meanwhile, is just annoyed ay why ‘those idiots’ (re: the students probably) stopped moving. We then shift over to Shouto just reaching the other end of the canyon, with Mic announcing as such to the crowds.

Of course, it’s not so easy as that. Even as SHouto starts building up more ice to start pushing ahead, Katsuki is blasting in from above. Katsuki calls out, refusing to stay behind any longer, while Shouto just thinks that with how fired up Katsuki is now, he must be a slow starter. Which, man, I don’t even know if that’s just an observation about the quirk or if that was intended as a savage shot, but either way, I’m cackling.

We see Tenya somewhere behind Katsuki, watching the explosions as he pushes on. He says it’s very likely his brother is also watching, so he musn’t show an unsightly performance… 

he says as he does a T-pose to skid across the ropes with his quirk. Mic calls it unsightly, which like, dude, rude. Also, how did he know what Tenya even said there? I guess it’s just a little thing for the sake of humor, like the ‘drawn differently’ jokes for All Might. 

The crowds watching on are impressed with the performance of Shouto, talkin about how he just can’t be stopped. How quirk is awesome, but it’s not just that - he’s also incredibly athletic and perceptive. Someone else agrees, then points out how he’s the son of the flame hero, Endeavor. The first person(?) says that makes sense, the kid’s got the blood of the number two hero out there, after All Might. The pros are gonna be scrambling to get him as their sidekick.

Can I just say this is a very interesting panel here. Like there’s no reason we immediately know about to have it divided in two like this, but any amount of retrospect with what we learn later this arc makes it obvious: this is representing the internal divide Shouto places on his two sides, separating his fire from his ice. I also like how the mention of Endeavor here also happens to be on the fire side, further drawing attention to it and, subsequently, the scar there.

The scar that, incidentally, can be considered Endeavor’s fault.

I’m sure there’s a whole lot more Shouto and Todoroki family meta that can be shoved in here when analysing this panel, but we have things to do, events to see, arcs to get through! 

Present Mic announces how the leads keep breaking ahead, while the rest of the pack is bunched up. Since the racers don’t know how many will get to move on, all they can do is aim for first place! And the leader has just reached the final barrier - that is to say… the minefield.

...wait a second, ‘a deadly Afghan carpet’? Uhm, is that a translation thing, or… what a strange reference to make here. While it’s hard to make out the locations of mines from this page (at least to me), Present Mic confirms in his announcements that a quick glance should be enough to reveal it to the students, so they need to keep both eyes open and watch their steps. By the way, the mines don’t pack a deadly punch, but they’re loud and flashy enough that the kids might need a change of underwear when it’s over. Aizawa adds on that it depends on the individual, of course.

Meanwhile, back on the ropes, we see Izuku crawling along almost like a chameleon, the armor plating strapped to his back with some of the loose wire. In the background we see Shouji gliding from one of the pillars with his arms out wide, and another student  Naruto running across the wire like a champ.

You go, Naruto runner guy. 

Back with the landmines, we see Shouto realize that the positioning of the landmines puts whoever is in the lead at a disadvantage, since none of the mines have gone off yet, ergo meaning the highest chance of setting one off and losing time to the distraction. It’s all a big show, which I mean, you’re only just realizing this? Meanwhile, in the background, we see another student get blown into the air from one of the mines, and yet another (I think Ojiro???) struggling to follow. 

Katsuki, of course, decides to show up then, finally blowing past Shouto while stating how ‘this crap’ can’t slow him down. Which I mean, makes sense when his whole thing is explosions, these landmines really can’t be all that impressive to him. Katsuki declares that Shouto’s declaration of war was to the wrong person.

Present Mic gleefully announces the new leader, telling the mass media to get excited, since they love this kind of turn-around. (Definitely not a subtle dig at them, no sir.) He then announces how the rest are catching up while Katsuki seems determined to fight Shouto right where they are - Tenya has blasted himself forward with one of the mines, looking very silly, while Ibara is using her vines to test the ground around her (I think?) to allow safe passage. 

Gotta go fast (do do do do do do do…)

While Present Mic wonders if the two grappling for first can hold onto their lead, we see Izuku standing at the start of the field, watching the other students rush ahead. Tokoyami is again launching himself into the air with his quirk, Kirishima is just carefully picking his way through, and I can’t tell enough about the other students to see if they’re 1a or not, so… 

Izuku worries about how wide the field is, while we get to see just how many people are ahead of him on the field. However, Izuku seems to have a plan, looking around him. As the others rush onwards, and as Shouto and Katsuki fight with each other, we see Izuku hard at work doing something he says is taking a page from Kacchan’s book. He thinks about how he can still catch up as he throws himself forward onto a bunch of unearthed landmines, the plate under him and between him and the inevitable explosion. 

Nice. 

Izuku is sent flying over everyone’s heads from the force of it, much to everyone’s shock. Shouto and Katsuki both look back to see what caused it, while Mic wonders what could have caused such a blast, and whether it was accidental or intentional. As Toshinori throws his arms up in the air (panic or excitement?), we get one last look at Izuku, wearing a very determined expression as Present Mic announces his riding the wave in hot pursuit.

And with that, chapter 25 is done! What a point to leave off at. Next time, we finish the race, get to see placements, and (I think) we get the announcement for the second event. See y’all then!

[shining-red-diamond]

One Little Coyote

Words: 2k

Pairing:  Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, some angst

Rating: PG

Warnings: nightmare scene, some arguing, mentions of cigarettes and smoking

A/N; I’m super proud of how this turned out! I’m sorry if it seems rushed, but I thought this was a cute and interesting concept. Banner credits to @oobin​

If the morning sun wasn’t hot enough, then the afternoon sun certainly was. Heat waves could easily be seen rising up from the dark pavement the gray Subaru traveled on. Hyunjin carefully drove himself and Y/N across the desert, even though it was mostly barren despite the occasional car that passed them in the opposite direction. The two had been on the road since eight, and it was now nearing twelve-thirty as Y/N’s stomach began to rumble.

“Are you that hungry?” Hyunjin giggled.

“Hey, you’re the one who insisted on just having granola bars instead of eggs like I suggested,” Y/N shot back.

“I know, I should’ve set the alarm for earlier.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes behind his round, dark-lense sunglasses.

Y/N sighed. “No, I should’ve just grabbed an apple.”

“Baby, we’re almost to a gas station. We’ll stop there and grab a bite to eat.”

For whatever reason, the two seemed to be arguing about something with every other conversation they had since waking up that morning. Was it because one of them slept bad? Did Hyunjin get irritated at her for some reason? Or was Y/N just hangry? They hated fighting with each other, but they couldn’t seem to get along for the first leg of their journey. The heat could be a factor in both of them butting heads, but the air was on full blast.

Y/N stared down at her twiddling her thumbs as the song changed to an old AC/DC tune, and Hyunjin glanced over at her. He felt bad for using a sharp tone at her. For months, the two had been planning a road trip from the Grand Canyon to Las Vegas; but he felt terrible for being in such a crabby mood.

Taking her hand, he laced his fingers through hers and kissed the back of it.

“Why the sudden change in behavior?” she asked with a raised brow.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized as they pulled into the gas station.

“Can we talk about this later? I just want to get some food before my stomach starts speaking in tongues.”

Before Hyunjin could respond, Y/N was already out of the car and beelined for the restaurant in the convenience store.

The gas station had only three other vehicles parked there: a motorcycle on the side of the building, a beat up brown truck at a pump, and a dark minivan at another. Heat from the sun was beating down in the surrounding area, but Hyunjin was protected under some shade at the gas pump he paid at. A snake slithered by, but it didn’t bother him. A rugged looking man exited the building and pulled a brand new pack of cigarettes and lit one up before entering the truck and pulling out, but not before giving Hyunjin a nod of acknowledgement.

When the tank was filled, Hyunjin took his receipt, parked in another spot, and locked the car before meeting his girlfriend inside. Y/N was sitting in a gray booth with an order of two burgers and large fries with two large drinks. She hadn’t touched any of the food on the tray, which she always did when she paid for food if she were traveling with anyone. Hyunjin was about to open his mouth to protest how he should have been the one to purchase the food, but he was done arguing with the love of his life.

“This looks delicious, baby,” he smiled and kissed her head before sitting in the seat across from her.

“I made sure to not get pickles in yours,” she replied.

“You know me too well.”

Once Hyunjin tied his long hair back, he and Y/N began their lunch; and she was thankful they didn’t fight while they filled their bellies with a meal.

“Just think,” Hyunjin smiled slyly, “by tomorrow afternoon we’ll be entering Vegas. The desert and heat will be a distant memory as we feast on delicious food, swim in an indoor pool, and get cozy.”

Y/N chuckled at his attempt at being smooth with his words, which in turn caused him to laugh as well.

“We can’t forget seeing all of the cool shows and counting the slot machines in each casino,” she added. “But I’m happy to just be with you for a few days, even if we don’t get to party like millionaires.”

Hyunjin scoffed. “Who needs wealth when I’m already a rich man just having the most beautiful woman in the world with me?”

“You’re cheesy, dude; but I like cheese.”

“I know,” her boyfriend replied with a wink.

As soon as they finished their meal, the two were back on the road, the surrounding desert brightened more by the afternoon sun. For about two hours, the two drive in mostly silence. The only noises around them were the radio, which would go static in some areas, and the wind outside. A few animals passed by in the sand and among the vegetation, but it was mostly snakes and rabbits.

“Babe,” Hyunjin said after a while, “about me apologizing earlier, I didn’t sleep well last night and woke up this morning in a bad mood. I hate fighting with you, and I was trying to make it up to you.”

He couldn’t exactly look at her as he was driving, but he could see out of the corner of his eye she was half smiling as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, too,” she lightly sighed. “I shouldn’t have snapped back at you. I didn’t know.”

“It’s not your fault. The bed at the motel was too uncomfortable.”

“Hopefully, the hotel bed is much better.”

“It’s Vegas! It has to be.”

A truce was formed during their own little comedy hour, and Hyunjin was happy he was able to make it all up with his girl. Like most couples, they had their arguments some days, but Hyunjin could never stay angry with Y/N, nor could she with him. The last thing either of them wanted to do was hurt the other person, and they both knew words were impactful. Only once had they insulted each other where it hurt the most that they wouldn’t speak to each other for a week until they both cooled off and talked it over.

“I wonder where the coyotes are,” Y/N spoke up as she looked out the window.

“They’re out there,” her boyfriend replied as he glanced around the sandy plains. “We won’t be going anywhere near them, but we’re approaching a bunch of rock formations and hills in a while.”

“Maybe we’ll hear them when we camp.”

“Maybe.”

“And that one little coyote howling at the moon,” Y/N sang with a giggle.

As if on cue, the radio song switched to the exact song. It was a genie wishing her song request.

“Fitting.”

-

The night air was too quiet for Y/N, except for the coyote’s howling at the full moon every couple of seconds. Moonlight illuminated the inside of the car, and she couldn’t fall back asleep anymore. The windows were still cracked open a little to allow air to circulate, but there was no wind blowing. Y/N hated how silent it was, and the coyote’s weren’t exactly singing lullabies to her. Sitting up, she looked over to where Hyunjin was, but he was gone. His blanket remained there, but the man himself had vanished.

Maybe he just had to go pee somewhere, she thought. However, the closest gas station was miles behind them. There was no way he would have walked that far just for a bathroom with a way to protect himself. The possibility of him just finding a small bush to do his business seemed logical, and since it was dark out, anyone who passed by probably wouldn’t see him.

Against her better judgement, Y/N decided to step out and see if her boyfriend was okay. Climbing over the seats, she reached one of the passenger doors and unlocked it. Once she stumbled out of the car, she shut the door and made her way to the back. The little fire pit used to cook their hot dogs was missing, and there was no sign that anyone had made a stop there. Nothing but dry mud and weeds. The air was also freezing, but Y/N didn’t want to go back to the car until her boyfriend was found.

“Hyunjin?” Y/N called in a whisper. No answer. She called for him across the other side of the main road, but still no reply.

“Babe, this isn’t funny!” she called as she turned around to see if he was messing with her.

To her horror, the Subaru was now gone. She didn’t hear the engine turn on, no tire tracks were left, nothing. It was as if it vanished into thin air. Turning back again, the road was gone too. What was going on?

Coyote howls grew louder, and Y/N was starting to panic. Small feet scampered by her, but not a humans’ footsteps. She pulled out her phone light and looked down. A row of jack rabbits were racing by her towards the rock formations, so she decided to follow them to try to find help. She took about six steps before a branch seemingly wrapped around her ankle and tripped her, cutting into the flesh.

“Don’t panic,” YN told herself. “It’s just a bush. You can get out of this.”

However, once she sat up, whatever was holding her had let go and disappeared. It left behind her ankle bleeding, but she had no means of treating it. She could still walk on it, so she kept going.

A few snakes, poisonous ones, slithered by, hissing at her as she walked. It was as if they were threatening her to turn back or else they’ll attack and sink their venomous fangs into her.

“As I rode my pony across the Western plain,” she sang sobbed, not realizing she had been crying. “We stopped and heard a sweet and sad refrain. It filled the sundown skies with a lonesome tune. It was one little coyote howling at the moon.”

RIght at that moment, howling broke the eerie silence from behind her. When Y/N turned around, two red glowing eyes were staring at her. It was a terrible, hungry look, and a deep throaty growl sent shivers down her back. Before she could even blink, teeth flashed in front of her as if the creature attempted to eat her face off.

Y/N screamed as she felt her life ending right there.

“Baby, wake up!” a familiar voice cried out.

Opening her eyes, Y/N realized she was back in the car but in a cold sweat. It was somewhat dark out, but the sky was just barely rising by the deep purple sky fading into pink.

“Jinnie!” Y/N sobbed as she pulled her boyfriend in for a hug.

“What happened?”

Once she caught her breath, she realized everything she had seen and experienced was all a nightmare.

“Bad dream?” Hyunjin guessed as dried her head with a blanket.

“Yeah,” she sighed. She explained everything in detail to him, even checking her ankle for the injury she had sustained. To her relief, there was no cut.

“I’m so sorry you had such an awful nightmare,” Hyunjin kissed her forehead. “I forget how you have bad nightmares one the first night of a camping trip.”

“I’ll be okay,” Y/N promised. “What time is it?”

Hyunjin looked through the suitcases for some fresh clothes. “6:30 in the morning. I was awake because I got too hot in here. It wasn’t long before you screamed awake.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. It was only a dream.”

After tying his hair up to keep himself cool, Hyunjin brought Y/N closer to him and cuddled her for a while. Whenever she had a bad dream, it always comforted her to be held or snuggled until she calmed down. His heartbeat was the main composer of her calming, and she loved how warm he felt when he embraced her.

In the distance, a coyote howled.

“He won’t hurt you, my love,” Hyunjin reassured as he held Y/N tighter. “It’s just one little coyote.”

-

@hongism​ @ethereal-eirene​ @ezralia-writes​

[bruhlsbees]

the last night || anthony adams x fem!reader

summary: during his last night in the unit, anthony makes sure he's leaving you with one more good memory

pairing: anthony adams x fem!reader

word count: 2,395

warnings: general fluff, angst, skinny dipping, mentions of mental illness and being in a mental hospital, 18+ although no smut

a/n: i went into bottle rocket not knowing what to expect fully and i came out a full anthony adams simp so pls enjoy this fluffy piece pre-bottle rocket events - this is vvvv self-indulgent and sloppy, but it's just a piece i wanted to write and post

“So when are you leaving?” You asked casually, trying your best to not let your own feelings show - after all, you were happy for him, he was getting out.

You just wished you could go with him.

“Tomorrow. Dignan’s coming to ‘rescue’ me sometime in the afternoon,” Peeling open the wrapper of the pastry you swiped for him from the cafeteria earlier that day, he broke it in half to share with you, “I wouldn’t put it past him to show up with some elaborate scheme.”

“That’s Dignan for you.” You took the half he offered you and held it in your hands, staring at the moist breading before sighing and stuffing it in your mouth, chewing on it to try and avoid the built up feeling you had inside.

Okay, so maybe you were being a little selfish, but of all the years you had been there at the hospital, Anthony was the first you really clicked with. So it was only fair for you to be a little upset to know that he was getting out. Wasn’t it?

The two of you sat in comfortable silence while you finished off the muffin, you at the foot of his bed while he sat up top. Anthony wasn’t an idiot - nor was he new to being around you - he knew you were upset with him leaving, but how could he say it without you lashing out?

You had reminded him of Dignan in a lot of ways, which is why maybe he hit things off with you so well. You had the same passion Dignan did with your schemes, though your schemes only ever involved stealing desserts from the cafeteria and sneaking off into janitor’s closets when you two should have been outside.

He knew you’d be able to handle yourself, but he did worry though at the idea of your episodes. Without him around, would you be able to keep yourself grounded enough to not get thrown in isolation every other week?

Anthony was content with the idea of just sitting in his room the rest of the night with you, walking you back to your room once you got tired and kissing you on the cheek goodnight. Though, when he saw the tear slip down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away before he noticed, he knew he couldn’t just end the night on a somber note.

Everyone knew you two as ‘the duo’ around the unit. You were always the one leading with Anthony following behind you, occasionally pulling you back before you got into too much trouble. But tonight, he would be the one taking charge.

Standing up from his bed, Anthony extended his hand out to you, offering you his signature kind smile before motioning towards the door.

“Come on, I got an idea.” At first you were hesitant - his ideas usually meant dragging you on a walk to ‘clear your head’ or sit outside. To be quite frank, they were boring compared to the ideas you brewed in your head. Given though it was his last night, you complied.

You took his hand and smiled when he pulled you up, letting his fingers interlock with your’s before giving them a squeeze. Dragging you with him, Anthony led you both out of his room, checking to make sure there weren’t any guards around before heading down the hallway that led to the rec rooms.

Pushing through the set of doors that led into the basketball court, you turned your nose slightly, “We aren’t playing basketball, are we?” Your nose turned into a scrunch when you heard him laugh, squeezing your hand before pulling you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“No, I know you can’t play to save your life. I have a better idea, just trust me.”

And you did, of course you did - it was Anthony.

After making your way through the basketball court, the two of you headed down the back hallway that led down the stairs and to the pool. When the scent of chlorine hit your nose, you turned your head up and towards him.

“I didn’t bring a suit,” You began, toying with the bracelet on your wrist. Humming as you looked around, you took a step closer to the pool, looking down at the deep end, “Plus we just ate - aren’t you supposed to wait like an hour before you go swimming?”

Shaking his head, Anthony took a few steps forward until he was behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Well...I was thinking we didn’t have to wear suits, and if you’re worried about cramps, I don’t mind waiting.”

Leaning back into his arms, your hands held onto his, thinking about his idea.

“Oh...so like...we’d swim naked?” You felt him crane his neck down to kiss the top of your head, your lips pulling into a smile.

“Yeah, unless you’d rather go in your underwear. Whatever you want.” Turning you in his arms to look down at you, Anthony smiled and brought his hands up to your face, holding your cheeks before lightly pinching them between his fingers.

Giggling at his movements, you pulled away and shook your head, “No, I like this idea. Very daring for the famous ‘Austere Anthony Adams’.” You teased, making your way over to the side of the pool near the bench.

As you began to pull your clothes off, Anthony made his way towards you, unzipping his sweater to join you in the process, though his brain was still trying to wrap around the word you used to describe him.

“Austere? What does that mean?” He questioned, watching as you shimmied out of your pants, now standing in your underwear. He honestly figured you were going to go in your underwear, but he was pleasantly surprised to see you reach behind your back and unclip your bra.

“It means serious. You’re a quite serious person,” You pushed your underwear down your legs and stepped out of them, letting your clothes fall into a pile before you stood back up, “Just cause I’m a nut, doesn’t mean I don’t have a sense of vocabulary.”

Before he could make a comment about your diss on yourself, wanting to point out that he never thought that way, you were quick to make a dash for the pool, throwing yourself in and letting the room echo with the sounds of the splash.

Anthony was quick to join you, struggling to pull his boxers off from around his ankles, hopping over towards the pool before managing to finally kick them off, diving in after you.

The water was much cooler than you had expected it to be, which wasn’t a complaint at all given how hot it had been recently in Arizona. You wished that you were allowed more pool time in the summer, but figured that they kept you on the same routine for a reason.

When Anthony came up from the water, he pushed his hair back and spit out some water, treading the water until he found a spot where his feet could touch the bottom. Making your way towards him, you struggled to keep your head above water.

Letting you struggle for a bit, Anthony’s own smile pulled until he decided that you probably had enough and pulled you into his arms, letting your legs wrap around his middle. Your arms came to wrap around his neck, fingers gently running through the back of his hair that was by the base of his neck.

“I forgot how terrible of a swimmer you are.” He noted, flinching when you splashed water at him. Before you could make a comment about how you had known him for some time now, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to you.

It was always your favorite way to have him shut you up, and the same went for him. Out of all the kisses you had shared with people both in and out of the unit, Anthony was by far your favorite.

His kisses reminded you of the feeling you got when you watched your parents kiss growing up. It was gentle and made your heart ache whenever you saw them because you knew it was something you wanted. Now you finally got to have that sweet kiss, with Anthony.

When the two of you pulled away, your smile sank into a frown when you noticed his own expression shift into something sad, “You know, I don’t think of you as a nut...and I’d wish you’d stop saying that about yourself.” He whispered.

Letting your shoulders sink, you kept quiet while you listened to him, your eyes welling with tears again at the sight of him staring at you the way he did. You both knew you were crazy - hell, that’s why you were here and not out there, but he always made it a priority to make you still feel like a person.

“I’m gonna miss you, you know? But I’ll still keep in touch, write you letters and tell you all about the crazy things Dignan is wrapping me up in,” Quick to change the subject, he pushed some of your hair back and smiled tenderly, “Who knows, maybe when you get out you can join us? I know Dignan will like you. Hell, you two will probably gang up on me any chance you can.”

You liked the idea of joining them in their schemes, to be free and out in the world with Anthony - no longer feeling like a bird trapped in a cage - but despite your constant drift into a dream world you enjoyed living in, you were still a realist when you needed to be, and you knew you’d never be able to go out in the world with him.

“That sounds nice...maybe if we’re on the road we can go and see the Grand Canyon? I’ve never been there before. I hear it’s really nice.” You closed your eyes when you felt him kiss your forehead, moving once he pulled back to let your head fall into the crook of his neck.

“We can go wherever you wanna go. You, me...unfortunately probably Dignan too,” He felt you smile against his neck and his smile only grew, “But it’ll be good. Having you with us...with me.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, him holding you while you kept your head pressed into his neck. He ignored the obvious sniffles coming from you as you cried, rubbing your back as the two of you began to mourn the time you two shared.

He would’ve been perfectly fine holding you the rest of the night, until you got tired and wanted to go back, but he was happy to feel you pull back, lightly kicking off him and falling onto your back to float in the water.

Anthony watched you for a bit, listening to you hum one of the songs that played on the radio a lot before swimming towards you, joining you in the back float.

Staring up at the ceiling, Anthony began to wonder what he’d do once he got out. He knew he’d, of course, need to find a job. Maybe his friend Bob could help him with that? He’d want to see Grace too, his little sister, and his parents.

Hell, would they even want to see him?

The rest of the night together in the pool was spent silently floating beside one another, occasionally changing positions so Anthony could hold you in his arms for the last time. When you commented on how your fingers were beginning to prune, the two of you decided that it was probably time to go.

The walk to your room was heavy - you holding onto his hand tightly, your steps much slower than usual. You knew once you said goodnight, you’d also be saying goodbye.

It didn’t come as a surprise to him when he noticed you crying now, and not bothering to hide your tears from him.

You opened your door, ready to say a short goodnight to get it over with - to let your mind pretend you’d see him tomorrow and you two would do your usual day, but Anthony stopped you before you could.

“I’m happy for you!” You rushed out, clinging onto him as he hugged you, “You deserve to be getting out, I’m just-“

“Shh…I know, I know. It’s okay,” Petting your hair, Anthony closed his eyes and tried to focus on not crying himself, wanting to stay strong for you. “Like I said, I’ll still keep in touch. Send you letters and let you know where I’m at. That way when you get out, you can come find me.”

Pulling back, you nodded and sniffled, wiping your nose before carefully untying your bracelet, taking his left hand to bring up, tying it around his wrist.

“Hey, that‘s your bracelet-”

“I know. You’re just keeping it safe for me until I get out,” You smiled when you finished tying it off before looking up at him, “When we see each other again you can give it back.”

Quietly looking at you, Anthony’s lips pulled into a thin line, gaze falling to the bracelet before his other hand came up, fingers lightly grazing over the blue and purple string.

“You’re gonna do great out there. I bet you’re going to get a real cool job and drive one of those fancy cars we see driving down the road-”

Cutting you off with a kiss, Anthony held your face close to him for the last night, taking his time with the kiss to get it all out of him before he left.

He’d miss the feeling in his stomach that he got when he kissed you. Like a bunch of moths were floating around. Your lips always felt soft to him and he wondered if all girls were like that - or if it was just you.

It was you who pulled away this time, gently pushing him back until you both were staring at each other.

This was it. This was the end.

Opening the door to your room, you began to walk in before turning to face Anthony for the last time.

“Have a goodnight.” He whispered.

You smiled weakly and nodded, “Goodbye, Anthony.”

[hawkland]

Destiel fic recs #3 - the (mostly) longfic edition!

It’s been a while since my last rec post - mostly because I’ve been wallowing in a number of longer fics (50-350k!) so it’s taken me a while to have enough to talk about in one post (and boy do I talk a lot, here!)

With these longer fics, I do sometimes have some caveats with my recs - or at least reasons why they might not appeal to every Dean/Cas reader. But note that if I didn’t overall strongly recommend reading the fic I wouldn’t include it in my recs here at all, so any quibbles I bring up are minor compared to my overall enjoyment of the stories. Just, I don’t want someone to commit to a long read without knowing what they’re getting into and why it might not be their thing.

I’m still not into reading complete setting AUs at this time, but a lot/most of these are canon-divergence AUs, often written/set at the end of a season and giving an alternative take on what happened next. I love those kind of stories, as it’s often so interesting to see how fans thought of what might happen in the next season (especially when it’s better than what we actually got.)

Onto the recs & discussion behind the cut!

The Sinking Ship by UnfortunatelyObsessed (114k). This is a story that ripped my heart to pieces (in a good way!). I stayed up all night to finish reading because I simply couldn’t stop once I started on it and it gave me a massive fic hanger from all my emotions. Season 14 divergence, imagine if Dean did go into the Ma’lak box to trap Michael under the ocean with him forever...and once there, he discovers that Cas has stowed away with him. Because of course Cas would never leave Dean to such a fate on his own.

I loved literally. Every. Damn. Thing. About this fic. Cas telling Dean stories to pass the (endless) time. Their small intimate moments while realizing they can never consummate physically while trapped in the box but finding every other way to express their love. The absolute heartbreak that had me SOBBING when Michael fights for control of Dean and destroys everything they’ve built together and Cas thinks he’s lost Dean forever. Sam & Gabriel & Rowena & Claire & Jack doing everything they can to devise a plan back home to try to save them both while keeping Michael trapped. Also even just the wonderfully sensitive portrayal of aroace Jack still closely bonded with Claire and Maggie and just. And just. This is a story I’ve already re-read just to savor how much I loved it and its portrayal of everyone in TFW 2.0 and their extended family, it just hit my id in all the most incredible ways and I have nothing but absolute love for this one.

Beautiful Chaos by anyrei, mugglerock (141k). Season 9 canon-divergence, in which Dean doesn’t simply abandon Cas to fend for himself post 09x03. Instead he sets Cas up in a kind of squatter’s nest in an abandoned building near the bunker so he can keep tabs on him and help him out. 

This fic definitely gets the award for FILTHIEST, HOTTEST, SMUTTIEST Dean/Cas (and Cas/other) I’ve read in, like, ever, for human!Cas turns out to be a rather insatiable sex fiend/cock slut and Dean is too up his own repressed ass to easily give Cas what he wants/needs. It is dark at times, Cas ends up in some very unsavory/non-con situations, and the authors do mention that they tried to hone in on endverse!Cas’s characterization more than what we saw in Season 9...so you might roll with it, you might not. I adored their original character Jerry the tattoo artist in this, and like I said it was seriously hot (if you are good with total bottom!Cas and Cas with others, I know those are not everyone’s cuppa). I did have a few minor issues. For one, the last chapter felt a bit rushed and hand-wavey, but clearly the authors weren’t fond of the canon conflicts of season 9 & 10 (Abbadon, Mark of Cain) and just wanted to be done with them. Can’t say I really blame them. And I did have to laugh a bit at Lebanon, Kansas apparently having such a bustling gay bar/tattoo artist/etc scene being someone from a butt-fuck nowhere American small town myself. But, SPN was never all that realistic in how Lebanon was shown (and yes I’ve spent too much time roaming around it on Google maps), so if you can suspend some disbelief this is an awesome hot/angsty/occasionally heartbreaking read.

These Forsaken Lands by destielpasta (53k). I came upon this story when looking for fics that dealt in some way with the aftermath of Godstiel. This is a wonderfully atmospheric late Season 9 “fill-in” case fic (post Meta-fiction) where Cas ends up in a small town that had been visited by Godstiel...and while initially residents have reaped much good fortune, there has suddenly been a wave of deaths/bad events and he is determined to find out what happened and set things right. He calls upon Dean for help, but Dean is fighting the Mark of Cain and it’s going to take a lot to get past its control and find a way out for both of them. Together they work on repairing an old church while trying to repair each other and their damaged relationship.

I loved this story for how well written it was, really invoking a gothic small-town/Americana atmosphere. The original characters blend in very well with the case-fic at the center of it, and the author deals really well with Cas at a very fragile point when he’s running on borrowed grace and trying to navigate Dean’s MoC-enhanced anger. It’s Dean/Cas but actually much more of a Cas character study, so I highly recommend it to my fellow/compatriot Cas-girls who love a good wallow in his head.

Mixed Emotions by Tierra469 (50k). Canon 12 “parallel” fic that then goes canon-divergent with the season finale. I actually stumbled on this while in the mood to read some Cas/ or & Mary fic after enjoying their interactions in Season 12 (don’t hate me). This is sort of two fics in one. The first half focuses mostly on filling in the gaps with some critical S12 Cas episodes, especially Cas & Mary’s developing friendship (and one night of something more). But of course Cas’s feelings for Dean (and vice-versa) are always there, and when Cas figures out a way to get his powers fully back, the question is if Dean can open himself up to be vulnerable - and express love - the way Cas needs for this to work.

This was an interesting fic in a lot of ways. I loved the author’s take on angels’ connections to their vessels and grace, it was very consistent in a way the show sometimes/often wasn’t. Cas is very Cas in not understanding privacy and personal boundaries (so he does some questionable things, admittedly, which might squick some readers). The smut is fucking HOT - though I will caution at one point it involves Cas temporarily in a younger (NOT underage) female vessel (and the story does point out Dean’s discomfort with this and some of the consent issues involved, I don’t want to spoil too much). I wanted the Mary plot resolved more than it was, but I still recommend this story strongly for the quality of the writing and unique/well-developed take on angel lore and mechanics that was quite different from what I’m used to reading.

We Are Either Here Or Not Here by petramacneary (54k) A post-season 12 fic that goes on a different tangent to how Cas returns, and what happens in the meantime. Particularly, it offers a different take on what apocalypseverse!Cas would be like—as Mary makes her own way back from that world with AU!Cas as her prisoner.

What I loved about this story: first off, BAMF!Mary is awesome here. Dean is so heartbreaking, not quite knowing what the fuck to do with this different Cas who at times is just a painful reminder of who/what Dean’s lost...but then becomes a chance for Dean to say and express some of the things he always was afraid to in the past. And when (real/our) Cas finally returns, there’s some very interesting stuff that happens with both Cas & AU!Cas and Cas & Dean that I don’t want to spoil. (And let’s also just say that when real!Cas and Dean finally get together it’s AMAZINGLY awesome. Like, hot Impala!sex. So is the artwork that goes with this story.)

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow (353k) The longest fic I read this time around and probably the one I have the most mixed feelings about, but a while on I do keep thinking about parts of it so I do rec it with some caveats. This is a canon-divergence after the end of Season 11. Dean & Sam find Cas after he’s been blasted out of the bunker...to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Mary isn’t in this one except for a brief appearance/visit, which Dean thinks is Amara’s gift to him. Life seems good for a while, they’re enjoying dealing with mundane problems for a change, but then Cas seems to be pulling away from the brothers, spending less and less time with them at the bunker, taking a mundane job at another Gas ‘n Sip, and clearly preoccupied by something else. Or is it someone else? Dean is worried yet finally ready to accept that Cas maybe has a girlfriend, or a boyfried, but then it turns out that is not at all what Cas has going on. It’s something far more serious than that.

Honestly I almost stopped reading when the reveal happened - it’s a subject that’s very sensitive to me from personal/family experience and not something I usually like reading in fic (especially if there is a sad ending.) So I admit I jumped ahead to read how it would end first before committing to finishing it. And I am glad I did, because the author handles the subject matter with a realism and obvious knowledge of experience as well, not how I often see it in fanfic. There are a lot of emotional ups and downs but it’s nice seeing Dean in his momma-hen/mode, and Sam is so so good in this one! I think I enjoyed Sam’s characterization here most of all! And the author has a really cool/well developed angel/wing lore that hit my wing-kink pretty hard. I do think it could have all been edited down a bit - I found myself skimming parts, especially in the last third, just to get on with things. But it’s definitely a story you can disappear into for a good long time and I’ve bookmarked the author’s other works to read later, so again, I do rec it even with a few caveats.

A few shorter fics, too, just because I don’t want to forget about them...

Eleven Erogenous Zones of a Fallen Angel by almaasi (15k) Pure gratuitous wing!kink for me :) Cas uses the last of his grace to manifest his wings...but then is stuck with them in his human form and not even able to use them to fly as he used to. This presents a lot of awkward problems to deal with but also the excuse for Dean to help him keep them clean :) I did say wing kink, right? :D :D I loved how Cas seemed confused about the pleasure signals he got from bathing vs. sex vs. grooming and all of that. It’s sweet and hot and has my favorite kind of caretaking Dean in it.

Fossil Tracks by SegaBarrett  (3k). Dean & Sam & Cas and dinosaurs. How can you go wrong with that? One of the SPN stories from the Id Pro Quo collection I really enjoyed reading (and didn’t write myself, lol).

[milfjensenackles]

nothing safe is worth the drive

2.8k words | read it on ao3

found family road trip :) I decided team free will 2.0 needed a vacation 

“Let’s go on a vacation.”

Dean walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table across from Sam. Sam looked up from his newspaper, incredulous at the suggestion. “A vacation? Since when do you, of all people, want to take a break from hunting?”

Dean smirked. “We’ve been working hard for years, Sammy. I think we all deserve a break. You, me, Cas, and Jack. We could… go on a road trip! There’s plenty of stuff you and I haven’t seen yet. We could drive to California and see the ocean, maybe stop by those tourist traps like the ‘Biggest Ball of Twine’ or whatever.”

Sam shook his head and laughed at his older brother. Dean’s eyes were lit up with excitement, though, and who was he to ruin that? “Sure, Dean. Sounds good.”

Dean clapped his hands together before running down the hall to share the news with Cas and Jack. Sam smiled to himself. This would be interesting.

Cas and Dean had started dating only a few months ago, so things were still relatively new and exciting between them. Dean still struggled with not only giving Cas the love he deserved, but accepting that Cas loved him, of all people. It was difficult, coming to terms with the fact that loving Cas meant that he liked dudes in general. Dean still wasn’t comfortable labelling himself, and Cas was okay with that.

Dean’s thoughts wandered back to the day he and Cas finally got their shit together. Dean, after a grueling five days in The Empty, finally brought his angel home. After a tearful homecoming, Sam and Jack retired to their bedrooms, leaving Dean alone with Castiel for the first time since they said goodbye. Dean suggested a movie they’d already seen plenty of times, and Cas agreed easily as usual. As they settled into the couch together, Dean couldn’t help but focus his gaze on Cas’ lips. Cas couldn’t help but notice. Dean remembers Cas looking nervous, before slowly asking: “What’s going on here, Dean?” As soon as the question was out of his mouth, Dean’s hands were on his face and his lips were pressed against Castiel’s.

Dean finished the walk to his bedroom. Their bedroom. Cas moved in only last week. Another new thing Dean wasn’t used to yet, but he loved it all the same. Cas didn’t have many belongings, so the transition ended up being easier than Dean anticipated. Dean purchased another nightstand for Cas, which Cas covered with a small lamp and some framed photos of his family. One of Cas and Dean, with Cas holding the camera and Dean pressing a kiss to his cheek. Another of the four of them, sitting around the table and eating pizza. The final one shows a smiling Jack, arms around both of his dads.

Hearing Dean move into the room, Cas looked up from his book to smile softly. Dean grinned back, leaning over their bed to ruffle his boyfriend’s hair. Cas gave Dean his best disgruntled face before softening again, holding his arms out for Dean to join him. Dean kicked off his shoes, immediately kicking his leg over to straddle Cas. Cas stretched up to meet Dean, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and pressing their lips together. Even after all this time, Dean felt his heart drop into his stomach every time Cas kissed him. They stayed there for a moment, wrapped up in one another, trading lazy kisses back and forth. Cas swiped his tongue across Dean’s bottom lip and his hands started wandering lower on Dean’s waist. Dean regretfully pulled back, placing his hands on either side of Cas’ face. “Before you completely distract me”, he kissed the tip of Cas’ nose quickly, “I came in here to ask you something.”

Cas pecked at the bolt of Dean’s jaw one more time before quirking an eyebrow at him. “Okay. What did you want to ask me?”

“So… I was talking to Sam. What do you think about all of us going on a trip?”

“A vacation?” Cas smiled. “I’d like that very much, Dean.”

Satisfied with that answer, Dean returned to their previous activities. Cas definitely didn’t mind.

***

“You guys finish packing yet?”

“Yes, Dean. Almost done.” Even though Dean couldn’t see his face from the hallway, he knew Cas was rolling his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to care, focusing instead on his own luggage.

Dean had mapped out their entire trip. As fate would have it, they happened to be passing by the twine ball Dean had mentioned on their way to the Grand Canyon, seeing as it was only thirty minutes from the bunker. Cas suggested a stop at a honeybee farm that gave tours in Utah, and Dean couldn’t say no to that. Once Jack became privy to the information that Dean was taking requests, he made an extensively researched list of the places he’d like to visit. When Dean saw it, he gave Cas a look, but Cas merely shrugged and smiled softly at Jack. In that moment, Dean knew he was absolutely whipped by the man in front of him. He’d do anything to make Cas and their son happy.

They packed the Impala to the brim, including camping supplies for when they reached their destination. Dean hadn’t been this excited in… well. He had never been this excited before. He never had a chance to do the normal stuff, like a real family vacation. He and Sam had never really even had a family to go on a vacation with.

Dean rolled his shoulders back to shake the thought from his head as he reached up to close the trunk of the Impala. Cas and Jack strolled up to the car a moment later, arms full of suitcases and backpacks.

“Did you pack the whole bunker?” Dean asked with a chuckle.

Cas looked confused. “No, Dean. We only packed items that we thought might be useful on the trip. How would we fit the entire bunker into these bags?”

Dean threw his head back and barked out a laugh before unceremoniously pressing a kiss to Cas’ lips. He reveled in the feeling of Cas’ mouth against his, not caring if anyone could see them. “Where’s Sam?”

“He told me to tell you that he was almost ready and would be out in a minute!” Jack was already in the backseat, very proud of himself for passing along Sam’s message.

Eventually, Sam finally appeared, ignoring the mumbles from Dean about his tardiness. Dean started driving.

***

The World’s Largest Ball of Twine was… less than impressive, in Dean’s opinion. Cas and Jack found it fascinating though, so it ended up being worth the trip. Cas managed to purchase a t-shirt, without Dean noticing, that said in big block letters: Check Out My Balls. In the center of the shirt sat two circles of twine. Sam burst out laughing when he saw Cas walk up to the Impala wearing it, but Dean thought it was adorable. Jack was holding his souvenir, a small twine ball keychain. He insisted that he was going to use it to break the previously held record for largest twine ball once they arrived home to the bunker.

Once they got back on the road, Jack immediately requested to stop for McDonald’s. Dean groaned but knew Sam would have to stop to use the bathroom soon anyway. Dean pulled into the parking lot, and as expected, Sam rushed out of the car immediately. Cas handed Jack some cash to get food for everyone, and then it was just Cas and Dean waiting. Dean looked over at Cas. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was sometimes. Cas had the most beautiful blue eyes Dean had ever seen, and they were even more impressive with the evening sun reflecting on them. Cas realized Dean was staring and reached out to run his thumb along Dean’s hand. “I hope you’re having fun.”

Cas’ voice always made him weak, especially when he was worried about Dean. “I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Cas smiled, content to sit in the front seat of the Impala, palm pressed to the back of Dean’s hand, for the rest of the evening. They were soon interrupted by their son though, hands full of burgers and fries with a huge grin on his face. Sam followed soon after with a salad and a water bottle. Dean rolled his eyes at him before shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.

***

By the time they were close to Jack’s first location request, Cas was starting to get a little grumpy from the lack of sleep. It was day three of their trip now. Some days, Dean would stop at a motel for them to stay in, but yesterday he chose to drive through the night. Cas stayed up with him, fighting against Dean’s argument that at least one of them should get some shut eye. “Dean, if I don’t stay awake, you’ll fall asleep behind the wheel. You can’t get by on four hours anymore.”

Dean snorted. “You callin’ me an old man?”

Cas smirked and Dean pushed at his shoulder softly, grinning to himself.

Sam groaned from the backseat. “You guys are such an old married couple.”

Quirking an eyebrow at Sam in the rearview mirror, Dean pulled to a stop at a red light before reaching over to give Cas an obnoxious kiss, releasing his lips with a loud pop. “Jealous much, Sammy?”

Sam mimed a gagging motion at the display, while Jack looked on with glee. “I didn’t know you and Dad were married!”

Dean choked at that, coughing for a good minute before stuttering out, “I- we’re not- Jack- “

“Dean and I are in an intimate relationship, but we are not married. Although, I would like to marry him someday.” Cas cut Dean off, speaking with certainty.

Dean gaped at that. They hadn’t even said they love each other yet, and Cas was thinking about marriage? “You want to marry me?”

“Of course, Dean. Why wouldn’t I?” Cas was smiling at Dean now. Dean couldn’t help but smile back, lacing their fingers together.

“Alright, enough of this gross couple stuff. We get it, you’re in love and it’s disgustingly sweet. Let’s stop for dinner.” Sam said, a hand running through his hair, obviously frustrated with himself for being the one to start this conversation.

***

Today marked their fifth day on the road, and they were finally going to the honeybee sanctuary Cas was desperate to visit. Dean was actually pretty excited too. Anything was better than Sam’s pick, which had been a weird museum back in Colorado. Dean couldn’t remember what the museum was actually for, he couldn’t focus on all of the old relics and ancient artifacts when Cas was right there. Cas was Dean’s favorite ancient relic, which he decided to share with Cas, only to be greeted with the bitchface Cas saves only for Dean.

Dean pulled into the parking lot of the farm, which was made up of an assortment of small buildings along with green fields that extended for miles. Jack tumbled out of the backseat, dragging Cas by the elbow to the front door. Sam and Dean followed closely behind, watching as Cas and Jack pointed out various new sightings to one another. By the time Sam and Dean met up with them, Cas had already signed them up for a tour of the farm and a session explaining how honey is harvested and sold.

Their tour guide started speaking as he walked backwards, explaining the purpose of the farm, “This honeybee sanctuary is a place that supports the health and positive transformation of the honeybees that come to stay with us. Honeybees are an endangered species, so we do everything we can to protect them and maintain their species. Up ahead, you’ll see one of our beekeepers working with a hive to prepare for honey harvesting.”

They continued forward, Cas with the biggest smile on his face Dean had ever seen. If this is what it took to make Cas look like that, he’d drive them to Utah every weekend. Dean had to admit, honeybees were pretty cool. He could appreciate their loyalty to the hive, always working to support one another unconditionally.

By the end of the tour, Cas was waxing poetic to Sam about the efficiency of hexagonal honeycombs and Sam was attempting to keep up with the conversation. With Cas distracted, Dean snuck off to the gift shop to make a purchase. He came back with a pair of socks with cartoon bumblebees on them, which Castiel was so delighted to receive that he kissed Dean in front of Sam, Jack, and their tour guide. Dean didn’t mind.

***

It took them much longer than anticipated to reach California, but Dean didn’t mind. It just meant he had more time to hold Cas’ hand across the front bench of the Impala. Soon enough, they finally reached the ocean. Dean drove onto the beach, the tires leaving indentations in the sand behind them. The sun was setting quickly, so they needed to move quickly to set up camp. Having realized this, Dean moved quickly to remove their items from the back of the car. Before he could, though, Cas grabbed his hand and pulled Dean toward him, their chests resting together. “Come with me.”

Dean nodded, and Cas pulled him toward the water. Cas pulled his shoes and socks off, and Dean followed suit, pressing their toes into the sand. Dean reached for Cas’ hand again, and Cas complied, interlocking their fingers. They stood there for what felt like an eternity, watching as the water ebbed and flowed and crashed. Cas broke the silence after some time, murmuring, “Are you happy, Dean?”

Dean paused for a moment to look over at Cas, who was still staring out at the sea. Releasing Cas’ hand, Dean gripped his elbow to turn the angel’s body to face his own. Dean’s other hand reached up to softly brush some of Cas’ hair off of his forehead. Eventually settling on Cas’ jaw, Dean pulled Cas’ gaze from the water to finally look at him. “I know I’m not great at showing you how much I care, but I do. Care, I mean. I have never been this happy before. You. Me. Sam and Jack. That’s all I need. I’ll spend every day trying to prove it to you if that’s what it takes. I love you, Cas.”

Cas pulled back like he had been shocked. Oh, shit. They’ve never said that before.

“You love me?” Cas was looking at Dean like he hung the damn moon. Dean opened and shut his jaw a few times, trying and failing to make words come out of his mouth

Both of Cas’ thumbs softly caressed Cas’ face and Cas brought their lips together. The kiss wasn’t what Dean would describe as aggressive, like it usually was with them; it was slower and sweeter. Like they loved each other. Cas pulled back an inch, his lips still ghosting on Dean’s. “I love you, too.”

Dean reached up to his own face to place his hands over Cas’ and rested their foreheads together. They both started giggling uncontrollably. “You love me,” Dean said, looking into those beautiful blue eyes.

“I do. So much more than I could ever put into words.”

A loud noise pulled Dean out of his Cas-induced reverie, and he looked up the beach to see Jack struggling to finish putting together a tent.

“We should get back and help,” Cas said, hiding a smile. Dean rolled his eyes but pulled Cas by his hands toward Sam and Jack’s makeshift campsite.

“While you two were having a moment, Jack and I finished getting the tents set up, so you both are responsible for cooking dinner.”

Dean groaned, but was secretly happy to take care of dinner, as long as he got to do it with Cas. While Cas started unpacking their food, Dean reached for the cooler. He grabbed four beers and started handing them out.

Cas immediately saw the fourth beer and said, “You can’t give Jack a beer, Dean. He’s three years old.”

“Hey! I’m three and a half,” Jack said, indignant.

“See? He’s three and a half. It’s fine.”

Cas shook his head, but Dean could tell he was trying not to laugh. “No, Dean.”

Dean held up his hands in surrender but leaned over Jack anyway to sneak the bottle into his hand. If Cas noticed, he chose not to say anything.

Dean looked around for a second, trying to take it all in. Sam and Jack were in the middle of a heated discussion debating the best part of their trip, Sam gesticulating wildly in defense of his museum. Cas was preparing a fire to cook their burgers, the dimming sunlight golden on his concentrated face. Dean could hear the waves crashing on the shore behind them, a sound he never thought he would get to hear and actually appreciate. As he moved to start helping Cas, Dean realized that maybe now they can be happy. They can be at peace. And he couldn’t wait to find out what came next for himself and his little family.

[redrabbitspod]

This is in no way meant to be rude or disrespectful and I am fully aware that you can do whatever you please but I feel like Neil is getting so out of character. He clearly started to develop more of an own personality but he definitely has been through so much and he is just so..cheery and happy and clingy all the time(which if you’re like that is in no way wrong or bad) and now he reminds me so much of Nicky in AFTG. It’s really hard for me to still see Neil.

OOC: This is very long, and while we think everything leading up to it is super important to our thought process (and yes this is something we’ve thought about) the bit in bold is the heart of the point we try to make. (Please read the whole thing though!)

Hey, I’m actually really happy that you sent this in because I’ve been wanting to talk about it. I know that there’s a post going around that we both wholeheartedly agree with about Neil reaching far past ooc and becoming very ‘fem’. Jeni and I had a really long talk about this because we were worried that our Neil would be perceived or mistaken to fit in that trope. And while I think your concern is EXTREMELY valid (note: people can write the characters however they want. It’s fanfiction, they can do as they please, like you said, we just did not want to go that direction), I have a few points as to why I disagree. 

On surface I definitely get that. Idk if you’ve read the entirety of RRP, but I know for those of you that just read the asks (Im sure there are a lot), it DEFINITELY seems that way. But we went into RRP right off the bat letting people know that these characters will fundamentally be different. In Andrew’s case, we know he’s extremely soft now and we bring that up a LOT in the fic. Both himself acknowledging it and all the other characters around him. But we went in knowing he was going to be very different from canon - mainly because we took out the plotline that he was ever put on meds. In Wish You Were Here, the story we are writing post-season 2, we will be mentioning that and how we twisted it. Because in canon, that shaped his entire character. The medication changed the physiology of his brain and we hated the fact that something so abhorrent was forced upon him by the courts that we didn’t do it. And as a result, Andrew’s character is completely different because he’s able to tap into emotions that were blocked in canon. He’s able to grow in ways that he was not able to before and besides the fact that this is set a good while after college and especially his sophomore year that we saw in canon, he was going to change. We definitely know that them admitting that they love each other, making strides in their relationship both physical and mental, opening up, expressing, for his character may seem extremely ooc for some, but we had to take into account what would’ve happened if we took the thing that shaped his character in canon away. I hope we’ve done him justice. 

Now onto Neil. Neil we work over a LOT. And when Jeni brought this up to me because of the post, there were glaring things in my mind that automatically said no. This doesnt apply to our Neil even though to some it may seem that way. Here’s what we’ve done at least very consciously to make sure that our Neil holds integrity to his canon character, that he holds merit and a backbone to back up how he’s grown throughout our series. 

From day one, we knew that they knew each other. We knew that an event from the past not only shaped how Andrew approaches life, but how Neil does as well. Childish sentiment and nostalgia kept Neil in Arizona for so long, which we imply throughout season 1 and start the ball rolling in the first chapter. For the both of them, they held onto the boy they met at the Grand Canyon through everything they’d been through. When shit got tough, it was each other they thought of. And on some wild whim, Neil hoped one day Andrew would walk through the Book Nook’s doors and he’d see him again. Not because Neil had a crush, because he didn’t. But because Andrew was the embodiment of strength for him. 

New York was really important to us. Neil standing his ground and letting Andrew know exactly what he’d done to him, was what the entirety of Season 1 and EVEN season 2 culminated and came back to. Neil being able to say no, fuck you asshole, and always express exactly how he was feeling, was so vitally important to us. ESPECIALLY when it came to Andrew. Those few weeks of New York we wanted to build a bridge if you will. Andrew’s intentions were always genuine and well-meaning and Neil knew that, but survival instincts and what’s been ingrained in him stuck. They started to have a little give when he came to realize that he felt something for the man before him. But he never lost that fight for himself. That HE has to ALSO be okay. And I think we see a lot in that trope of Neil that he loses the fight, the backbone, the integrity that makes his canon character so compelling (even if he is a martyr). 

One thing we worried people would misinterpret was how fast we pushed their characters together. We definitely get that. In our world we didnt really have the luxury of really stretching it out like some may have, just because we were working with real-time. And honestly? As we wrote, the drive to push them together because they were so connected and intertwined just fell genuinely and organically. For us, it only made sense and not because of canon, but because of the story we’d written already. It made sense to us for Andrew to be the one to hold himself back and Neil be the one reaching out - Neil be the one exploring and beginning to recognize what want and really, agency over himself AND his wants, was. Neil was the one to ask for their first kiss here, Neil was the one to initiate them all afterwards, Neil was the one that asked Andrew to touch him, Neil was the one that asked what they were in Arizona, Neil was the one to bring up sex. And in return, Andrew was peeling away layers of himself, feeling accepted, and wanted, and understood in ways he’d never been before. And honestly? Feeling honored that they were both experiencing emotions in ways that they both never felt before. We see their relationship has an equal give and take, a push and pull. And I’m saying all of this because it’s honestly and truly really important for why we’ve made Neil’s character the way that he is. 

Going into season 2, we knew that happiness could not last long. They both had things to sort out, they both had hurdles to hop over, bridges to cross, whole fucking oceans to swim. Before season 2 started, before we had anything written or really even solidly planned, we knew they had to break up. Jeni even had the scene written back in either july or august. We knew that in order to continue trying to give integrity to their characters and relationship, how far they’d grown but also that growth is not a linear path, we needed to break them up. And in the lead up to that, we made sure that Neil was not only looking out for Andrew or trying to, but that he was looking out for HIMSELF. Unlike in canon, he didnt automatically have the foxes - not in his head at least. Of course he knew he had a home there, he knew that he had friends, but they weren’t like canon because he didnt grow WITH them like he did in canon. In his mind, he really only had Andrew and if there was no Andrew, why stay? And when their fight happened we made sure that Neil had value enough in himself, care for himself, love for himself AND for Andrew that they couldn’t let this go on any longer. Neil left because he knew he deserved better. He knew Andrew needed help and he couldn’t provide it. And he held onto that. In fact, Andrew even held onto it himself: 

“Is there no hope, then?” Andrew asked, unable to help himself.

Neil sighed and Andrew was grateful that he at least didn’t pretend that he didn’t know what Andrew meant.

“I don’t know, Dr- Andrew.” Was it possible for his chest to hurt even more? He wanted to curl in on himself, but settled instead for clenching the sharp corners of the pack of cigarettes in his pocket into the palm of his hand. He watched as Neil bit the inside of his lip and that little indent appeared. Maybe he feels it, too . “Part of me wants to say fuck it all and let’s just go home. I hate this... But I hate what you’ve been putting me through these last couple of weeks even more. I can’t do that again,” he stopped talking once more and inhaled a shuddering breath. “You broke my heart, Andrew. I know I sound dramatic and stupid, but I don’t know how else to say it and - I don’t know how to do this, for fucks sake.” He finally turned to him, but the eye contact was brief and before it was even there, it was gone. “I came into this knowing nothing about relationships and I know even less about breakups. I don’t know how to navigate this.”

“You think I do?” Andrew asked. He didn’t mean  for it to sound so bitter, but there it was.

“I don’t know with you,” Neil shrugged. “I feel like you keep everything so close to your chest, that there are whole sections of you I’m missing. And listen, I don’t blame you. You should be able to choose what you want to share. But I can’t help that it makes things hard when you’re falling apart and I don’t know why...”

Andrew let go of the box and put both of his hands in his lap. Grinding his teeth together, he heard the beginning hum of Bee’s buzz , but took a deep breath to try and keep her at bay. Clearing his throat, he looked back to the stadium and that stupid orange fox paw, before he murmured, “What if I offer you a piece?” - suddenly and quickly said, it was as if his mouth was trying to outrun his mind, despite the second he took to contain it. He’d known this would eventually come - that he would have to do this. And besides, Neil deserved an explanation, even if they never got back together.

“Andrew-”

“I’m not offering with hopes that we’ll get back together right now, Neil. I’m working through shit the best I can. Therapy is helping, but I know it’s a process. I just know you deserve an explanation. And I haven’t wanted to tell you because it’s fucking horrific, but I was also afraid that it would send me even further down the spiral if I talked about it. Now that I have a space to vent through, I don’t think I’m so afraid of the fall.”

This part was so important to us for both Andrew and Neil’s character. And in the entire build up to the break up and directly after, Neil held onto the fact that they needed to talk. He kept bringing it up. Because he knew that if they didn’t it would escalate just like it did before. 

“I wouldn’t risk being with you again if I didn’t think things would be different. I’m not better and to be honest? I probably wont ever be better. I’ve spent my entire life dealing with my shit by myself because that’s just how it was. I’ve avoided relationships because I never trusted anyone with my baggage and I didn’t think it’d be fair to pile it on someone anyway. So when it comes to talking about shit - I’m not used to that. Bee was the only person I’d ever told everything to, and she doesn’t even know all of it.”

“I know that,” Neil said, leaning forward as if to show Andrew how much he actually understood. If that was the case, Andrew believed him. “I know you, Andrew. I would never force you to talk about something you don’t want to. That’s not what I’m trying to do. But , I need you to work with me, and if not me, someone else. Don’t take it out on me when you’re going through shit that neither of us can control. It’s not fair and it makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong and I can’t fix it.”

Now. Now we’re up to your points. I promise all of this was important for me to explain, because I know there’s literally SO MUCH that we’ve written, that shit happening now can get in the way of everything that’s happened before to lead up to this. 

We fully recognize that Neil is definitely happy. But he’s not happy-go-lucky and we tried really hard to make sure he didn’t lose his integrity - his backbone - the things that made Neil, Neil. 

Something I realized throughout this series was that I was getting worried that the focus of season 2 was so heavily on Andrew. I was seriously worried about that. But then I realized that Season 1 was focused solely on Neil. Season 1, Neil was a fucking wreck. It was Matt AND Andrew comforting him, Matt and Andrew bringing him down, Matt and Andrew trying to protect him, take care of him, find him, search for him, all of that. But even through Neil’s horrific anxiety and all the bad shit that happened, it was still Neil that pushed himself up from the ground, pulled Lola back, and gave Andrew the in. It was Neil that fought with the doctors and nurses to see Andrew and make sure he was okay. Even still afterward though, it was Neil discovering and Neil understanding and a lot of Neil, Neil, Neil. 

Season 2 is heavily focused on Andrew. We’ve already seen Neil’s story and his growth. Its Andrew’s turn to try and again, build his bridge to getting better. But with that, it was Neil that made the strides to speak and handle Ichirou, it was Neil that figured out things with his uncle, it was Neil that ultimately had the gun, brought Andrew for practice - took it out and demanded Andrew get behind him this time. It was Neil that looked Andrew in the eyes as the cops patted them down and desperately tried to tether them together.  It was Neil that kept reassuring Andrew they were going home. It was Neil that snapped the moment the cop tried to put his hands on Andrew to show them where their things were when they left the prescient, and ANDREW that allowed himself to be pulled into Neil’s arms in that moment, because he knew that he was the one thing that was SAFE. It was Neil that held Andrew that night and Andrew that LET himself be held as he broke down. 

That was one chapter ago. And we really tried to illustrate at the end that they have a life ahead of them now. They have a future - a future that is spread out and it’s bright and full of possibilities. They have a future where they can do what they want. They have a FAMILY. They have nieces, Aaron, Kate, Bee, the entire TFN team. Neil had nothing and now he has something. He has hope. 

Promise Im coming down to the end omfg. This is why our Authors and End Notes are so fucking long i swear to fucking god. 

This BTP chapter, we wanted to explore that fucking unbridled happiness. That elation of fuck - we have the world out in front of us. We don’t have any killers on our backs, Hailey is safe, Robin is safe, Jean is out, the Moriyama’s are taken care of, Stuart isn’t begging Neil to join the Hatford Branch, Aaron and Kate might be moving back to South Carolina, they’re married and all of that isn’t terrifying. It’s COMFORTING. So yes, this BTP chapter was bright and cheery. Neil was most certainly happy and showing it. Jumping on the bed, kisses all around, getting excited over ZOO BABIES and a ZOO CHOO train. But just because we show this side of him where he gets to go on a road trip and experience real and true fucking freedom for the first time, doesn’t mean that we’re all of a sudden shedding everything that we’ve built for his character. I don’t think that’s what you meant, but I mean it when I say we take the characters, the integrity of the characters, very, very seriously. Also in this chapter, Neil takes a homophobic asshole to task and not in the way that a lot of people do, but by quietly hinting at the threat because Neil doesn’t need bells and whistles. In fact, he even talked about how being happy was something his mother frowned upon: 

Because the way he looked at Neil when a butterfly landed on his finger or when he snuggled up to a goat in the petting zoo let Neil know that Andrew was happy. And he was happy.  That was something Neil never really had in his life. His mother didn’t care if he was happy, only that he was alive . In fact, the less happy he was, the fucking better. By her logic, he was less likely to go rogue if he didn't feel like there was something to be happy about outside of her. 

Neil’s finally had a moment to enjoy and let go and we know exactly how that can come off, but we have an entire future planned for them and the book they’re about to explore. Spoiler Alert: It won’t be all “butterflies and rainbows”. But all of this does not mean that all of a sudden we’re giving in to tropes and changing his character entirely because of one chapter. RRP and it’s characters mean too much to us. 

So I definitely get where you’re coming from and I’m so fucking sorry this is so long omfg. And I respect your view because we definitely worried that people would see them like that. But we have a reason for almost everything we do in this fic and really, we just wanted to see the boys happy here. We don’t believe he’s like Nicky and we don’t believe he’s clingy, but everyone interprets these characters differently, and you’re certainly entitled to that opinion. We hope this just makes our thought process on Neil’s development a little clearer. - The Creators

[pikemoreno]

colors

pairing: catfish morales x reader

summary: a summer with frankie, as told by colors

word count: 5k

warnings: mentions of drug use (but no actual use!), talk of frankie’s past (so there’s some violence, death, ptsd), there’s some fluff, some angst, what can ya do!

a/n: an idea brought about by a similar fic i’d written for another fandom + talking about what summer with frankie is like with @lesqui​. 

i liked it for a while. now i’ve stared at it so long that i kinda hate it. but hopefully you enjoy it at least a little!

( @hdlynn​, this is me tagging you as requested. ily.)

Summers with Frankie were green. 

Frankie was ever the outdoorsman. He would spend every single hour of the warm days outside if he could, sleeping with the canopy of leaves as a ceiling, the soft grass as a floor, and a hammock strung between trees the only thing separating him from either. He did it on multiple occasions over the warm days: spending the night in the backyard. The less-than-luxurious sleeping arrangements weren’t exactly doing wonders for his aching, overused joints, but it did wonders for his mind. Disconnecting like that calmed him in ways nothing else ever could. Sometimes he’d go by himself to get away, but he didn’t like it nearly as much as when you or Santiago went with him. (He had found too much time in complete solitude outside had the opposite effect; too much time to think.) You were, of course, more than happy to oblige and go with him.

“It includes a nice view. And you... An even nicer view,” you would tell him, “Of course I wanna join.” That always sent warmth right to his cheeks.

The views were nice: wispy clouds and darkening skies interrupted by the trees that stretched overhead, their colors muting as night overtook the forested backyard; and beautiful Frankie, setting up his hammock. You watched from your hammock as he pulled his own taught, admiring the muscles in his back that were visible beneath his henley. You didn’t think you were staring that hard but then...

“Admiring that view, sweetheart?” he asked as he turned around, pleased with his work and the way your gaze rested heavily on him.

“Mhmm… Why are you bothering with that one anyway? You know you’re not gonna be using it. You’re gonna be over here in mine--” You didn’t finish. He’d sauntered over, hands resting on the fabric on either side of your head. 

“Go on. What am I gonna be doing instead?” he breathed, teasing. 

“Probably me.”

“You think so?” he hummed, “Maybe I should be bringing you out here more often.” His arms still supported him as he hovered above you just out of reach. You were growing painfully impatient

“Oh, just shut up and fucking kiss me already.” You swatted at his arm to get him to come down to your level and he took no more time in-- finally-- meeting your lips. You snagged the cap off of his head, letting it fall to the grass below. He was already too entranced to notice, but he certainly did notice the way your fingers tangled in his hair, the way your lips parted upon contact. He deepened the kiss in response, shakily getting himself onto the hammock to kneel over you and free up his hands. The kiss only broke when he let out an: 

“Oh shi--”. 

In a split second, you felt the hammock tip precariously to one side before it returned to normal. You opened your eyes to find Frankie, still hovering just above you, looking as though he’d just escaped death: wide eyes, heavy breaths, hands gripping the edges of the hammock’s fabric. You felt the breath of his laugh against your lips and a mumbled:

“Whoops.”

You laughed too. The kissing resumed, full of life and breath and utter joy, eventually travelling to your jaw and neck, hitting every spot he knew so well. Both of your hands travelling lower, lower…

You were right, of course. There was absolutely no need for the second hammock. It hung lamely from the two oak trees, moved only by strong breezes and not the shifting weight of a body. As expected, Frankie never left yours. 

“I almost died getting up here. There’s no way I’m pressing my luck by trying to leave tonight,” he argued as he pulled you in to himself.

“Sure,” you quipped back, letting your head rest on his chest. The henley had long since been discarded, laying on the grass with the cap. You sighed at the closeness: legs tangled; an arm, gentle, but strong around you; fingers drawing light patterns on your own bared shoulder. The trees above you and the stars just past them seemed closer too, all wrapping you up in serene safety as you drifted off.

Summers with Frankie were green. Green like the trees and the grass that surrounded you that night. Green like the feelings of safety and harmony that bloomed in your chest.

Summers with Frankie were blue. 

There was a creek near the house Frankie grew up in. It was the last stop of many on the grand tour he had taken you on through his old childhood haunts, and it was probably the one he was most excited for. Sure, he was excited that you’d gotten to meet his parents for lunch and see his old house and all of the memories with it, but his old creek. This was hallowed ground.

He led you over rocks and down slopes to the “best spot” on the creek. Despite the way the creek you sought was rushing mere feet away, you continued farther and farther down the cragged, unforged path. 

“I promise, this other spot is way better. It’s calm and it’s not as rocky and there’s this rope swing we put up one summer and--” He went on and on, praising the place of his childhood. You didn’t understand the difference between here and there, but you trusted the enthusiasm in his eyes and his years of experience, which he obviously had. Frankie’s feet still knew every step as if he could see a trail where you couldn’t. With every “careful here” and “hold on let me go first,” as he slid down a steep slope, it was as if he’d carved the path into the earth himself. He pointed out memories to you as you walked on.

“This scar here?” he briefly pointed to a raised mark on the back of his calf and then a boulder more than twice your height to your right. “My best friend in 5th grade dared me to jump off it. Fell on my ass and a rock stuck in my leg at the bottom.” You winced at the thought. “Yeah, it felt like it sounds. Cracked my tailbone too, couldn’t sit right for a month.” He fell into step with you and laced your fingers together. “But... “ He turned toward the river now, taking you through the patch of trees to where the forest floor sloped down to meet the bank. 

It really was better here.

The harsh rocks gave way to soft, silty ground and then quiet, lapping waters. It really was the perfect spot for a lazy swim and a jump from the rope that hung from a solitary tree, grown sideways over the bank. Otherwise, the tree canopy fell away here to the brightest skies that warmed the current-smoothed rocks further down the way. It took your breath away, not the way the Grand Canyon does, or the beautiful clear seas of some far off island paradise, but in its own little way, especially as you saw it through Frankie’s eyes. It was the rose-colored view of a boy grasping onto memories that were kinder to him than these recent years had been. You memorized the brightness of his face, the glow had little to do with the summer sun warming his cheeks and everything to do with worlds colliding: the pure joy of bringing his favorite person to his favorite place, like a child dragging you to the toy store window. You ran down to the water like those children, leaving socks and shoes and cover-ups strewn in your wake.

Your newly bare toes sank into the muddy, silty bank. It squished in a gross way, but the cool earth felt so good. The light waves lapped against your toes and little minnows swam up to check you out, darting away in scaly flashes when you took a step. Frankie was quick to get right into the water, testing his old beloved rope swing. The branch creaked with the unfamiliar weight, but held strong as he flung himself into the water, creating unnatural waves in it that raced all the way to you, where you were thigh deep in the cool depths now.

Five seconds… Ten… Then twenty. You looked a little nervously to where the rings had now diminished, but you were looking in all the wrong places. Frankie had swam over to you, using the opacity of the water to sneak up on you. You were none the wiser when he grabbed your ankle, causing you to gasp with a few choice expletives as you fell into the water with a splash. You could hear Frankie’s muffled laugh as he rose from underneath the surface as you became submerged in it. You shot back up, spluttering.

“What the hell, Frankie?” He was still laughing.

“Sorry,” he managed to wheeze out. He wasn’t. You narrowed your eyes playfully as he finally calmed down. “Really. I didn’t think it’d scare you that badly.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck as you both drifted further into the water.

“What did you think would snatch you in a 7 foot deep creek? A shark?”

“A catfish?” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I guess one did.” 

“I’ll always snatch you up.”

“Nerd.”

“Dork.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You couldn’t tell if the kiss or the creek made you feel like you were floating.

After fingers and toes turned pruney you laid out on the pleasantly warm, almost unnaturally smooth rocks to dry. The deep sky above went on forever and left you with eyes half-lidded, warm and happy.

“You know, I had my first kiss on this rock,” Frankie broke the comfortable silence. 

“Is that why you brought me here? This where you bring all the girls, casanova?” He gave you a little shove. 

“Jealous?”

“Of your, what? 9th grade girlfriend? Absolutely not.”

“8th grade, actually.” 

“Was that before or after your 5th grade best friend stole your date to the 8th grade dance?” you teased, turning on your side to look at him, head resting on your hand. 

“After.” he grinned at the memory, “It was Sally Mason. My rebound,” he teased. 

“An 8th grade rebound,” you mused.

“Yeah, not much to be jealous of. The kiss was pretty bad anyway. We knocked our teeth together, eyes open,” he shook his head, “I’ve gotten a lot better since then.”

“Oh have you?” He gaped.

“Have I not?”

“You should probably remind me.”

“Not after that comment.” He pouted, but the dimple that rose in his cheek ruined the act. He couldn’t stop the grin.

“Come onnn, don’t you wanna take this old rock for another spin?” you crawled over until your face was hovering above his. You kissed either cheek, then several more pecks in quick succession when he didn’t respond. He broke, pulling you down to bring his lips to yours.

“Much better,” he murmured against your lips before leaving another quick peck.

Darkening skies eventually sent you home, delightfully tired. Frankie was quiet on the way back, but you chalked it up to the exhausted bliss you also felt. The long day in the sun had you passing out immediately after falling into bed. You were so utterly dead to the world that you didn’t notice when Frankie didn’t immediately join you. 

***

He sat on the edge of the bed for a while, hoping your soft breathing behind him and the darkness and the comfort of the mattress would bring some semblance of peace.

It didn’t. 

His thoughts were so very loud they woke him right back up; and worrying about sleeping made him spiral that much further, just another thought racing around and around with the others. He needed to be busy, to work himself into exhaustion like forcing a computer to power down. He moved to the kitchen to pace without disturbing you.

He hated what life had made of him.

He hated how his favorite place had seen him like this. The place he spent all of his school years living and breathing in had seen an entirely different man than what he had remembered. It had remained the same: steadfast, reliable, safe. Every tree and hill and hole was exactly the same.

But it felt so different, foreign. Like the woods he loved didn’t quite recognize him the way he recognized them.

It was hallowed ground and he was a sinner.

He’d seen war and death-- caused war and death--, and he still saw it everywhere he went. The creek looked red with the blood he spilled.

Not its fault, but his. 

He hated how different it was. This was supposed to be a special day, sharing a place so full of fond memories with the person he wanted to make a life’s worth of new memories with. Instead, it left him wanting, wishing he was still the person he was: a little older, sure, maybe a little smarter, but with the same curiosity and innocence and joy, the same zest for life. Not this man who was so hurt and untrusting and angry. He wanted to be like that boy again. He wanted it for her, she deserved better. For his favorite place, so that it would remember him the  and, he guessed, for himself too. 

His hands rested on the cool countertop, trying to get his breathing under control, willing the threat of tears away. This was bullshit. Things were how they were, he was who he was, and it was just a fucking creek. He shouldn’t be fucking crying. 

He’d be fine in the morning, he decided, but for now, he needed to numb it. He debated for a moment, fingers gripping onto and then relaxing against the edge of the counter before he pushed away from it and to one long-forgotten little cabinet in the kitchen.

He’d fully kicked the coke habit months ago. After coming back from South America for the last time-- the actual last time-- it just didn’t matter so much anymore. Being that close to his death once again reminded him just how fragile his life was and how much better he could be doing.

In its wake, it left a lot of problems that he didn’t know what to do with. You were always there; and it meant more than you could ever know, really. But even your soft touches and listening ear-- and some well-placed tough love-- could not drown everything out.

He needed to be numb again.

If he remembered right, he had the tiniest amount of the substance left in the back of the cabinet. There wasn’t really a reason to keep it, but just knowing he had it if he needed it made him feel safer in some crooked, fucked up way. He didn’t tell you about that part. 

He had barely begun to walk away from the cabinet when he heard footsteps on hardwood. He met sleepy eyes that looked between the clear bag in his hand and his grim face. He watched the heartbreak take root in those eyes he loved. Your shoulders slumped a little and your hand gently, sleepily reached out to him,

“Cat,” you whispered. You were so clearly disappointed. You had been his biggest cheerleader in this and now he was going back to square one. He was such a screw up. All at once he realized what he was doing. The baggy fell to the floor and he crumpled onto his knees behind it, sobbing into his hands in a way he hadn’t done in months.

“I can’t do it,” he mumbled. He felt your presence now on the floor next to him, felt your hand as it lovingly rubbed his back.

“What can’t you do, my love?” 

Anything. 

He didn’t respond. He just cried as your hand kept rubbing soothing circles. You were too good to him. You knew exactly what he needed, of course. He didn’t need overbearing attempts at comforting, he didn’t need a solution, he just needed a comfortable, patient presence until he could figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” you pressed a feather light kiss to his hair, “You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me? You’re ok, baby. Just take some deep breaths for me.” He did.  “Good, that’s good. You’re alright, Frankie.” His breathing evened and the two of you sat on the floor, backs against the counter. You gently played with his fingers as the last remaining sniffles subsided. 

“I-- I’m,” he started trying to explain, but there were no words.

“Shh,” you soothed, “Not a conversation we need to have tonight. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” You stood with him, arms around each other as you walked back to bed.

When you were both laid down, lights off, your back against his chest, his arm laying over your waist, you whispered his name.

“Hmm?” he answered, dreamily. 

“You know that I’m here for you right? For whatever you need. You don’t need to try to get rid of it with that shit? I’m here to work through anything with you.”

“Yeah, I know.” The silence after demanded more be said, but nothing more came. 

“Yeah, I know.” I know you’re here, but I don’t want your help. The quiet taunted you.

 He finally let sleep take him. Yours came uncomfortably. 

Summers with Frankie were blue.

Blue like the easy lapping waters and the blazing blue of the sky on a sunny, lazy day. Blue like his memories, now tainted with time. Blue like the sinking feeling in your chest when you realized there was nothing you could do about it. 

Summers with Frankie were red. 

You woke up groggily to beaming light and an empty bed. As the memories of the early morning hours flooded back, you panicked, wondering if he-- 

Fear won out over exhaustion and you ran to the kitchen. 

The bag of white powder was gone from the floor. Frankie was at the sink, scrubbing fiercely at a mug. That couldn’t be good.

“I took care of it,” he stated blankly over his shoulder. He was already so embarrassed, so angry at himself. He didn’t want to have this conversation.

“Took care of it, how?” He all but slammed the mug down. That was the wrong question right about now.

“I didn’t use it, if that’s what you mean.” There was an unmistakable bite to his tone. It startled you a little. Frankie was as mild-mannered as they came. You’d seen him angry, sure; no one was perfect. But it had never before been directed at you. It stung.

“Frankie, I-” you tried to backtrack

“You think I’ve been using again?” He was turned fully now to face you, but his fingers gripped the edge of the counter behind him, knuckles turning white with the pressure: angry, panicking.

“And what the hell am I supposed to think after last night? Hmm? I found you in here taking--” you froze then bolted to the cabinet. Frankie tried to argue, to stop you, but it was too late. You had the offending substance in your hand, and your frustration was burning as hot as his now. You stomped to the bathroom.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What you should’ve done months ago,” your tone was poisonous.

“I need it!” He tried to yank it out of your hand. 

“No you don’t!”

“I need it! Just in case. Just in case I-”

“Why am I not enough Frankie?” you finally yelled out. He dropped his hold on the bag. It fell back into your hand. It felt so incredibly heavy. You dropped it.

“What?” All of the anger was gone from his voice. It was light as a whisper. “Shit, do you think that’s what this is? That it’s your fault?” His expression grew softer, contrasting the prominence of the crease between his eyebrows as he tilted his head at you. You ran your hands through your hair in frustration, walking out of the bathroom. He followed.

“We’re not done here, baby. Don’t walk away from me.” The hallway had never felt more constricting. His hands came to your waist, spinning you to face him. Eyes searched your face, waiting for your answer

“Yes, Frankie. Yes. I feel like I failed you. I feel like I haven’t helped you like I should. That’s how most people deal with their problems: they talk to someone, they work through it. Obviously I’ve done something wrong here because that’s not what happened. You shouldn’t have to turn to drugs instead of me.” You shook your head, trying to clear your watering eyes. “You got help. You don’t need this anymore.” The breath he took in was sharp.

“I know… I know.” Hands squeezed lightly against your waist. “But what I was feeling yesterday. I- I can’t put that on you. What I’ve seen and done and how that affects me… It’s not always something I can just talk about. It’s a lot, it’s heavy. You haven’t experienced it and I don’t want you to, even second-hand. It’s not a you thing. It’s just a-- thing.” Your eyes went to the floor, but he lifted your chin back up to meet your eyes. “It’s not on you, you got that? You’ve done so much for me. More than you know. Sometimes it’s just… Too much for either of us. It can’t be solved that easily all the time.” You nodded. 

“It still doesn’t mean that should be your go-to instead, Cat.” He sighed.

“You’re right. It shouldn’t. I gotta find a better coping method when I can’t talk to you, or it’s too late to call one of the guys about it. But for now,” he punctuated by taking you by the hand, walking you back to the bathroom, and picking up the bag that started all of this. He held it up, presenting it to you before flushing every last bit of it. He smiled back at you. He looked so proud of himself. The weight that he carried on his shoulders looked as if it’d become twenty pounds lighter.

“That’s for you.” 

“No…” Your arms went around his neck and his found your waist once again. “...It’s for you. That is the best thing you could’ve done for yourself. Proud of you, Cat.” You brought your foreheads together, resting there a minute.

“I love you.” It was so lightly whispered that you might’ve missed it completely if you hadn’t felt it on your lips. “And I’m sorry I got angry. It wasn’t at you.”

“I love you. I’m sorry I got angry too.” You stole a quick, forgiving kiss, then pulled back. “Now, I don’t know about you, but my sleep last night was terrible.” He nodded in agreement. “Care to join me for a nap?” 

“Yes please.”

The rest of the afternoon was full of soft embraces and apologies for misunderstandings. You floated in and out of consciousness, broken up only by instances of “more strenuous activities”, quick kitchen runs for snacks, and one shared shower.

Day blended seamlessly into night until your dreams were interrupted by a far off whisper and a vague feeling of being shaken. You blinked awake and met Frankie’s grinning eyes. It was still pitch black outside.

“C’mon,” he whispered, clambering back to the edge of the bed to lace up his shoes.

“What time is it?” you murmured.

“Late,” you heard the grin in his voice. “Well, early, actually, I guess.”

“What are we doing?” 

“Don’t worry about it. That’s my job.” He looked back at you, “Hungry?” You considered a moment.

“Yeah, actually. Is this a Hal’s run?”

“Shhh.. You’re ruining it. What are you still doing in bed? Go get ready!”

“Alright, alright. Sheesh. Wakes me up at,” you finally looked at the clock as you crawled out of bed, “4am and now he’s all bossy.” He threw a pillow at you; you laughed.

Twenty minutes later you were sitting in Frankie’s pick-up, windows down as he drove. The rush of wind against your face brought the smells of the fields you passed: grass and wildflowers and something distinctly summer. The crickets were chirping loud and proud, a perfect compliment to the soft music from the radio. There was no talking, but it was a comfortable silence. The most comfortable you’ve ever felt. Sodium vapor streetlights intermittently interrupted the darkness behind your eyelids as you closed your eyes to take it all in. 

“You ok?” came a whisper as light as the breeze.

“Never been better,” you whispered back. You heard him chuckle as musical as the crickets.

The best diner in the city coming into view was by far the most beautiful sight you’d seen in weeks. You’d seen it often during the evening hours, as the sun went down and the last remains of the “dinner rush” finished (which consisted of fifteen parties in the tiny place instead of the usual five). It was kind of beautiful like this. Hauntingly beautiful. It looked like one of the places where time doesn’t exist. Its neons flashed between “Hal’s Diner” and “Open 24 hours” in gaudy fashion for no one in particular-- there were no cars in the lot and none on the road at this hour

You liked to think Hal’s single handedly proved the theory that hole-in-the-wall places always serve the best food. The sign on the window read “Hal’s: Since 1962.” You thought it should read “Hal’s: Has not updated since 1962.” 

But none of that mattered once they put down that plate of just-greasy-enough diner food. As you popped a fry in your mouth you decided that if torn and re-taped leather booths and old light fixtures meant they could keep serving food like this, then that is perfectly fine with you.

You really tried to keep your voices hushed in reverence of the graveyard shift employees who looked utterly exhausted, but you couldn’t contain your laughter as you watched Frankie bang on the back of a ketchup bottle, only to have nearly a quarter of the bottle splatter onto his plate. He gaped at it as you cackled.

“Gee, Frankie, want some fries with your ketchup?” you teased once you had control of yourself again. You dipped one of your fries in the pile.

“It’s too early for this shit,” he muttered to himself, closing the bottle and putting it back. But the grin you shared told you he wouldn’t give up these silly little 5am moments for anything.

When you’d devoured all of your food-- and some of the ketchup-- you left a generous tip on the table for the poor waitress and headed back out into the balmy summer air. The clock on the dash read 6:15am and you found yourselves passing the beginnings of morning commuters. You looked at him as you passed by the road to go home, about to question him, but he only smiled back at you with a look that said “trust me.”

Summers with Frankie were red. Red like deep hurts and anger at what can’t be changed. Red like danger signs. Red like diner neons and a gratuitous pile of ketchup. Red like love blossoming after a harsh storm.

As Frankie drove up a mountain pass at 6:45 on one of the last summer days, you thought about the summer spent with him. It was all of those colors: harmonic greens, calming blues, and overwhelming reds; and as you looked at the man next to you, putting his pick-up into park and telling you to “c’mon”, you decided he was too. He was all of those colors.

He was softly green. He preferred to be surrounded by green, after all; it was no wonder that it bled into him so effortlessly. He was so easy-going and mild-mannered, seeking peace and happiness with those around him. To you, he was safety; reliable as the grass beneath your feet.

But he had his blues. He was calming and joyful, free as the birds in a light blue sky. You saw that in him as you watched him tumble off of the rope swing or crack jokes with his dad. It was light and breezy, but too soon followed by blues of darkest night. You wished you could take the dark blues right out of him. Someone like him should never have to face dark blue feelings and dark blue memories. All you could do was stay with him in the storm.

But he was red too and it was a double-edged sword. He was one of the most passionate people you’d ever met, for better or worse. His usual mild-mannered attitude could not hold its own against the fury of injustice or bitter wishes that the world be different or, heartbreakingly, unbridled anger at himself for the pain he’s inflicted. But oh was he just as passionate about you: loving you, laughing with you, making things work with you. That passion that lead to anger was the same passion that loved you more deeply than anything. 

But then again, no. 

You sat in the truck bed with your Frankie, watching the sun rise over an untouched valley. The view was absolutely breathtaking. All of the sunrise’s swirling hues melted together so they were inseparable from one another, making a new color all its own. You decided it then:

Frankie wasn’t just green, blue, and red, all separate and incompatible with one another.

He was so much more, a swirling shade all his own. 

Every bit of it was him, and it was your favorite color.

(Moodboards by @aerynwrites)

[itspdameronthings]

Taking A Trip

Summary: Santi and his love take a much needed vacation. Where his fears of the past takes over his mind. This is my latest entry for @autumnleaves1991-blog,and@flightlessangelwings writing challenge.

Note: this story contains some 18+ content. nightmares, and panic attack.

📷

A vacation is what both Apple and Santi need right now. Going out of state is an ideal as well. That is why Santi mentions the grand canyon. Not because of the cliffs,but how beautiful it is when the sunrises,and also beautiful rainbows. Their jobs have been so stressful that caused them to think the time is now to go off to have a nice adventure together.

After setting up the tents,and setting up a nice fire with a fire pit both of them brought so the flames would get out of control. Apple watches her love. Looks so relaxed right now. Far cry from a few months ago. Him waking up from bad dreams. Were so bad,and caused him to cry. Hate to see him cry. She holds him tight after every nightmare he has gone through. Heeding Will's advice. Change of scenery might help him. Mentioned that his therapist, now girlfriend suggests that both of them do that for both of them. Which it helps. Santi turns his head when he sees her staring at him. Pulls her to his lap,and kiss her neck," Like what you see mi amour? Or you have something on your mind? Don't be thinking. We are on vacation. So let's have some needed fun.meaning by having fun in the tent." Apple moans as he kisses her neck,and his roaming hand," there will be time for that. Got to get dinner started. We have a hike tomorrow morning."

Sounds of the rain fell while they slept. The Sound was soothing. Both of them in the sleep bag made it more romantic. Made Santi horny. Situated himself so he was on his side. Pulls her leg over so he could slide his cock inside her wet folds. Apple moans his name as he thrusts himself inside her. Enjoying this closeness to him. Holds his hands as he touches her breasts,and while he bites her neck with every thrust. In no time both of them cum. Enjoying the high from their love making. She maneuvered herself to lay on top of him. So she can please her man. Not gonna waste this moment.

Next morning was a cool one. Both of them woke up to watch the sunrise,and see a beautiful rainbow over the horizon. After breakfast. Both of them got ready for the hike. Apple noticed something while they were hiking up a mountain. Santi seems to be afraid about it. He would take deep breaths as they got to a steep part of the ridge. Apple suggests they take a break. Wrapping her arm around his shoulder,and kissing his cheek," is something wrong love? You want to stop? " He sighs as he takes her hand," just the view reminds me of my nightmares of Columbia. Made me think about the Andes. Where my fellow brother lost his life. All because of me! I pushed him to go!" Apple tears up. This is the first time she ever talked about that trip. She knew it was a disaster for him and her friends now she calls her family. Also made her think of her cousin who was there in Columbia while her santi was there. After the same thing that terrorized the country. She holds onto his hand and squeezed it," hold onto my hand,and I'll protect you. Protect you from your nightmares. Not a lone baby. Just you know. I'm here for you. No matter what, remember? I was there for you when we were kids. Never going to leave your side. " Santi pulls her to his shaking arms as he cries. After he calms down. Both of them continue the hike.

After the hike. Both of them enjoy the time in the lake,and retire to the tent so they could share another tender moment. Santi tries to get some rest. Pulls his love close when his nightmare threatens his mind again. Remember what Apple told him to do if that happens. Go to a special moment between them. That is what he did. To a place where he is safe.

[pagingevilspawn]

Hi could u please write a fic where alex is diagnosed with a serious illness and jo is there with him for support ?

doctors make the worst family members

anon, i’m gonna start by saying that this is most certainly NOT what you asked for, but it's what you're getting. One; I can't write angst for shit so it would just be a major disappointment, and two; I truly just don’t have the heart to write my favorite character with a serious illness, lol. 

Also, welcome to the series I'm starting. It's called, “payton uses evan peters characters from ahs for jolex baby names because she loves him and every character he plays”. (“payton loves evan peters too much” for short) it’ll be a ride 😎 

anyways... hope you enjoy, nevertheless! 

____

Jo Karev stood in her husband’s room, pacing around one the hospital’s floors so much she would make a hole in them if she continued any longer. She anxiously bit her nails with one hand, the other rubbing circles on her seventeen week baby bump. 

She stops her movements suddenly, making her way to the uncomfortable hospital chair that sat in the corner of the room, flopping down into it, more than happy to be off her feet. They were beginning to feel like she had just through the grand canyon, not to mention, were the size of cantaloupes. 

“You good now?” Alex asks her from his bed, a teasing smirk on his lips. His arms were crossed in front of his hospital gown, an item he (very) reluctantly put on. Jo had given him a glare and he knew he couldn’t refuse. Never get in a fight with Josephine Karev, he learned that one a while ago, but it was especially important that he never got into a fight with a pregnant Josephine Karev. She went full on criminal defense attorney, and he wasn’t going to lie, it was pretty scary.  

Jo throws him a sharp glare. Due to her pregnancy, her mood swings had been hitting harder than ever. One second she wanted to pummel her husband, and the next she wanted him to hold her in his arms forever. Although, she supposed that wasn’t too out of the normal though, since Alex was always finding some way to piss her off and then say something sickenly sweet to make it up to her. A more accurate description would be how she went from joyful in the morning to blubbering tears and incoherent words when she figured out her favorite pair of jeans didn’t fit. (It was a scary sight, Alex had to console her for a good twenty minutes before she was able to fully calm down. Pregnancy hormones were wack.) 

“Shut up.” she glowers, sinking lower in her seat, tracing circles on her belly in an effort to calm the kicking in her stomach. Baby decided now would be a good time to jab a kick straight to her rib, so she hunches over in her chair, letting out a small hiss of pain before adjusting herself, not missing the way Alex’s eyes look at her warily. 

“You okay?” he questions, making Jo bob her head up and down. 

“Fine. Your daughter just likes you more than me, which you know, I'm totally okay with. I mean, it’s not like I'm growing her inside me for nine months or anything.” she stares at him pointedly, causing the worry etched on his face to fade away and form a crooked smirk. 

Alex chuckles, leaning back into the multiple hospital authorized pillows behind him as he runs a hand through his hair. He had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, but decided to hold it in. Jo was stressed, and the last thing he needed was to cause her any more.

It didn’t take long for Jo to begin her pacing again. She traveled the length of the room. The door, to the blue chair. Door to the blue chair. Back and forth, back and forth. Alex was starting to get dizzy just by looking at her. Her brown locks flew behind her as she moved, at times picking up her pace, making it across the room even quicker. It was at then that she would fiddle with the rings on her left hand, twisting them and untwisting them, tracing her fingers over the large diamond from her engagement ring and the smaller ones from her wedding ring. When she was little she always thought it was the other way around. She thought the big, fancy diamond was for the wedding, while the more modest piece of jewelry was the one that was ever so delicately placed in the velvet box. 

She stares at the ring fondly, a small smile subconsciously gracing her lips. God, it was so beautiful. A 2.5 carat princess cut with a platinum band. Jo knew the name of the shape of the diamond wasn’t by accident, it had most definitely been the main reason why he had chosen that exact one. (She found out it was a princess cut when Kepner had taken her finger and examined the ring, sprouting out facts about the new piece of jewelry she was wearing. Also known as the only reason she knew any details about the rock that only left her finger when she had to be surgery, a rare now since she had transferred to OB) 

When he pulled out that ring the first time, she was shocked to say the least, one; because, well he was proposing to her, and two; it was so freaking gorgeous. 

Jo was never the type of woman to gush over rings and weddings and frilly dresses with frumpy looking bridesmaids gowns and too many different forks to choose from at dinner. But when she saw that ring? It didn’t matter that they were arguing, it didn’t matter that she felt like he wasn’t in her corner, she just wanted that ring. She never felt like that with Paul (for obvious reasons), the want to stick that ring on her finger and never take it off. Besides that fact that it was beautiful, she knew the real reason she wanted it so badly was because it came from him, from Alex, the man she loved more than life itself. She hated when she had to tell him to put the beautiful ring away, because she wanted nothing more than to wear it herself. 

“Jo, I’m gonna be fine.” the man says, watching as his wife stops her movements, turning around to glare at him so sharply he wanted to pull the words back into his mouth and zip them up. 

“You don’t know that!” she explodes at him, moving her arms around aimlessly, angry tears beginning to glaze over her eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones.

She lets out a huff, her breath coming out shakily as she tries to fan out the water in eyes. 

Alex flashes her a small smile, “Jo, it's an appy. A freakin’ appy. Bailey’s doing it! Nothing’s gonna go wrong if Bailey is doing my appy.” he remarked. 

“So many things could go wrong!” she exclaims, pacing around the room once more as words come flying out of her mouth with absolutely no filter at all. “There’s bleeding, infection, inflammation, your appendix could burst-”

She’s cut off by Alex, who’s shaking his head. “Jo.” he looks up at her, her brown eyes boring into his, “I’ll be fine.” he reassures her, watching as she tries to swallow the lump growing in her throat. He pats the bed beside her, signaling for her to come sit next to him. 

Jo waddles to him, curling up to his side and placing her head on his chest as he runs fingers through her hair. “You can’t die on me, alright?” she mumbles into him, letting a single tear come down her cheek and land on his hospital gown. 

“I won't. Promise.” he places a peck on top of her head. 

Jo lets out a little chuckle, “I was never this emotional with Walker.” she teases. 

Alex laughs, pulling her closer into him. “Trust me, I know.” he says, earning him a slap on the chest. “Speak of the devil…” he trails off, seeing Meredith walk into the room with a little boy glued to her hip. 

“Momma! Daddy!” the three year old exclaims once he sees his parents, a wide smile painting his face as he tries to wiggle out of his auntie’s arms and onto the ground. It felt like he hadn’t seen them in forever, even if it was just six hours before he was being dropped off at daycare. 

“Hi bubs!” Jo exclaims, taking Walker from Meredith’s extended hold and setting him down on her lap, his big, hazel eyes staring up at his parents in adoration while the blonde goes to sit in the chair Jo previously occupied. 

Walker adjusts his position, making sure not to sit on his mommy’s bump. “Hi baby sissy.” he says to her stomach. Jo takes his hand and puts it on her abdomen, watching his face light up as he feels a sharp kick come straight to his tiny palm. 

“Sissy says hi back.” Alex grins, ruffling the little boys spiky hair, which had somehow stayed intact throughout his adventurous day at the hospital’s daycare. He had his wife to thank for that. Jo had somehow managed to find a way to keep their son’s hair in place after long hours, thanks to copious amounts of gel she had mastered the use of. He used to say that a shaggy haircut was fine and perfectly normal, but she said that she ‘didn’t want her son looking like Will Byers’. All haircut debates officially ended after that. 

The parents listen as their little boy rattles on about his day, from seeing his best friend Peter to knocking down the block towers he built over and over again. Their three year old was a little bundle of joy, their complete surprise baby. Jo always joked that he was created the night of her faux pregnancy announcement, since the dates lined up. Walker was something else. He inherited Jo’s hazel eyes nose, but everything else about the little boy screamed Karev, from the big head he had when he was born to the crooked smirk that permanently stayed plastered on his lips, always ready to get into some trouble. 

Some days he acted like an angel, but majority of the time he was the literal spawn of Evil Spawn. Cristina’s custom made onesies and t-shirts were frequently worn by little Walker, which proudly stated, “My Daddy is an Evil Spawn!”, “Spawn of Evil Spawn”, “Product of an Evil Spawn and Hairball” just to name a few. 

Walker and Meredith found them hilarious, Jo and Alex… not so much.  

A few minutes later a nurse walks in, asking Alex if he needed anything while simultaneously checking his vitals when the little boy speaks up. 

“Hi!” he chirps excitedly, a crooked grin on his face. He loved meeting new people, one of the few differences he shared from his parents, but they knew that was a good thing. Walker had always been sociable and practically made friends everywhere he went. The cashier at the grocery store, the workers at the receptionist’s desk, random people he passed on the street… little Karev was quite a people person.

“Hi there sweetie,” the woman in her mid-twenties coos, tucking a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear as she bends down slightly to meet the little boy’s height. “I’m Andrea, what’s your name?” she asks. 

“Walker!” the tiny brunette exclaims. 

Andrea laughs, shaking her head a little bit at the adorable little boy, looking up to meet Alex’s eyes. “Your vitals are good Doctor Karev. Dr Bailey should be in soon to go have you sign your consent forms, but otherwise just sit here until then.” 

Alex says his thanks as the nurse walks out the door, his son watching as the young girl leaves. Walker leans up unexpectedly, whispering loudly enough for the three adults in the room to hear. 

“She had big boobies.” he giggles, clutching a hand over his mouth, trying to hide his large grin. 

Jo’s face could only be described as scandalized, while Alex and Meredith burst into loud laughter, their sound filling up the room with the little boy’s giggles. 

“Walker Alexander Karev!” oh you are so your father’s son.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Ski Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

How could I possibly ignore it when you put “Gavin” and “spicy” in the same paragraph 😉

The date begins with MC and Gavin heading to a Snow Mountain Resort by car over the holidays.

I turn the camera towards Gavin and see his smiling profile on the display screen.

MC: You’ve been driving for so long. Are you very tired? You’ve worked hard.

Gavin: It isn’t hard work to be your personal chauffeur.

His eyes not leaving the road in front, his right hand reaches out to hold mine. His warm palm wraps around my fingers.

Gavin: Are you cold?

I smile and shake my head, but he still pulls my hand over to his lips gently and exhales on it. 

His warm breaths encase my fingertips, and even my heart starts to feel a little numb.

MC: I’m going to put this portion into the vlog, or make a separate compilation of Officer Bai’s heartwarming moments.

Gavin: Sure, I’d also like to see it.

Gavin lets out a laugh as he drives into the scenic area.

The weather is cold so MC starts coughing.

Gavin: Are you okay?

Gavin hurriedly pats my back, pressing me into his arms.

MC: … [coughs] I’m fine, I just choked on the cold wind. I’ll be fine in a while.

Gavin: …

I hear something that sounds like gentle laughter.

MC: Are you laughing at me…

Gavin: No. It’s the wind’s fault, so I’m apologizing to you on its behalf.

With a smile in his voice, the cold wind blowing against my back stops in an instant, and I can more clearly feel the warmth emanating from his hug.

I can’t help but laugh.

Gavin: Would you like to sit in the resting area? It’d be warmer. I’ll come look for you after renting the equipment.

MC: You’re going alone?

Even without thinking, I immediately shake my head and grab onto his hand.

MC: I want to go with you.

Gavin looks like he wants to say something, but seeing the resoluteness in my gaze, he smiles and relents. We board the cable car towards the mountain.

MC is incredibly happy to be surrounded by the gorgeous scenery.

The most important thing is that I’m holding the hand of the most important person in the world.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: Hm?

Gavin: You keep holding onto my hand. Are you afraid?

MC: [pouting] Don’t look down on me, this isn’t something to be afraid of~

She starts taking pictures of the scenery and shows them to Gavin. Gavin compliments her photography skills:

Even before Gavin finishes speaking, I take his hand into mine once again, holding it very tightly.

Gavin goes silent. The corners of his lips hook into a smile, and he responds by clasping my fingers tightly.

They finally reach the top of the mountain, and MC is glad that she accompanied Gavin because there’s a lot of equipment to carry.

She also starts to feel uneasy after seeing other newbies struggling to walk with their ski boards.

But when she sees Gavin dressed in all his glory, her feelings of unease vanish.

He’s looking down the mountain for the best path to proceed. He finds a suitable one and smiles. MC swoons for a little while.

Gavin starts teaching her the basics of skiing and MC thinks she gets it.

MC: Gavin, can you go down the slope in one breath?

Gavin: Do you want to see it?

MC: Mm, I want to. I’ve never seen you ski before!

Gavin: Easy.

She watches Gavin ski like a professional and enjoying himself heartily. Thinking it looks simple, she decides to start skiing on her own.

Although she starts off having fun, she soon realises that she’s going faster and faster... and that she doesn’t know how to stop. She sees Gavin skiing towards her from the side.

MC: Gavin get out of the way! Hurry and get out of the way ahhh-

As she awaits her tragic demise, she crashes into Gavin’s arms.

Gavin: I’ve got you. Are you okay? Why did you come down on your own?

Sensing the concern in Gavin’s tone, I hurriedly dispel his worries.

MC: The snow is a huge buffer, so it wouldn’t hurt even if I fall.

She turns back to look at the tracks left by the ski boards and realizes she actually skied quite a distance – she can’t even see her starting point. And she’s really proud of herself.

Gavin: Mm, you’re very talented. But it’s very dangerous…

MC promises that she wouldn’t be so reckless again.

Gavin: But it’s okay. You can have as much fun as you want. With me here, you wouldn’t be in any danger.

Gavin asks why MC wanted to try skiing in the first place. Turns out MC noticed how focused Gavin was when watching a skiing competition, and that he even ordered a lot of magazines related to skiing. Minor also mentioned that Gavin was considering buying skiing equipment.

Gavin: But you don’t have to accommodate to my interests… I’ve told you before. To me, no matter what we do, the most important thing is that you’re here. The most important thing is that you’re happy. So you don’t need to do these things.

Seeing Gavin look conflicted and utterly solemn while saying this, MC doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

MC: Of course I need to!

I lift my hand so he can clearly see my most genuine emotions.

MC: Why is it that after all this time, you still haven’t understood...

MC: To me, no matter what we do, the most important thing is that you’re happy. To me, your smile is even more dazzling. Your happiness is equivalent to twice my happiness!

MC: I want to accompany you to do the things you want to do. I want to accomplish your hopes for the future together with you… This is what I want to do, and it’s what brings me most happiness!

Gavin’s conflicted expression turns into surprise. He looks at MC while wanting to avoid her gaze at the same time.

I close the distance between us, stepping through the snow on the snowboards with slight difficulty. I lift my head and give him a light peck on the chin.

Gavin: [quick inhale of breath]

Gavin asks if MC wants to continue with skiing or do anything else.

Gavin: [laughs] I’ve never been happier than right now.

[Note: Included his voice clip in the link above to enhance your reading pleasure with his happy voice]

MC finally gets the hang of skiing after an afternoon of practice, but she’s still having difficulty turning.

Gavin is gorgeous and cool so he unintentionally attracts the attention of a number of people nearby who start cheering and clapping for him. Some people even stop to watch him ski.

Gavin: Are you tired?

MC: Not at all! Gavin, I managed to maintain my balance and haven’t fallen for half an hour!

Gavin: Mm, I’ve seen it. You can make turns already.

MC: …not really. It wasn’t an actual turn, the snowboard just went out of control.

Gavin lets out a laugh and looks towards the dipping sun.

Gavin: It’s no problem, you’ll get it after a few more tries. But it’s getting late, so we should head back.

MC: Mm.

Her legs are numb from the strenuous activity so Gavin casually carries her on his back <3

I’m not a small child, how could I let someone carry me like this…

I lower my head in slight embarrassment and press my head onto the back of Gavin’s neck. My breath mingles with his unique scent. Without realizing it, the corners of my lips lift.

Gavin: What’s making you so happy?

MC: Hm?

Gavin: You’re smiling.

MC: I’m not! You can’t even see me…

Gavin: I can feel it.

MC: You’re smiling too, aren’t you? Even though I can’t see it, I can feel it.

Gavin: [laughs] Mm.

They finally reach the car.

As though it’s a natural thing, Sweetheart Gavin removes her snow boots and sweat-drenched socks before taking out new ones from his bag. MC is touched by how prepared he is.

MC: Gavin, your hands are very cold.

Gavin: Sorry, I…

While he’s speaking, I’ve already reached out to take both his hands in mine, bringing them into my arms.

My slender fingers and small palms obviously cannot cover his large hands entirely.

MC: Even though my hands are small, I can still warm you up.

Gavin doesn’t say a word, but he gives me a nice smile.

I rub his hands gently with my fingers. He leans forward, tugging on his cotton coat to cover us both.

MC: You’re not cold?

Gavin: I’m fine.

Just then, I hear the sound of a growling stomach.

Gavin: …we should head back.

I bury my head in his shoulder and let out a laugh, then take my bag from the seat. Under Gavin’s stare, I retrieve a thermal lunchbox.

The lunchbox contains Yuxiang shredded pork and stir-fried chicken gizzard. She also takes out a thermal flask with hot ginger tea.

Gavin: Why didn’t I… know you prepared these?

MC: I prepared it while you were renting the car. I can’t always let you be the only one busying yourself. Try it? I specially asked the chef to follow your favourite tastes, even though they are pretty homely…

I take out a pair of chopsticks from the lunchbox. After picking up some dishes with the chopsticks, I bring them to Gavin’s mouth. He chews for a while before revealing an unexpected expression:

Gavin: It’s delicious.

Hearing such a satisfactory answer, I hand the lunchbox over to him so he can concentrate on eating. While doing so, I retrieve a travel journal from my bag.

After finding a comfortable position to lean against Gavin, I start planning for the remainder of our trip.

MC: Day 3, skiing, done! This way, we can spend the next two days viewing the scenery~

If the weather remains this good, the view of the Grand Canyon would definitely be amazing.

Gavin turns his head to look at the travel journal, then feeds me a piece of chicken gizzard.  

Gavin: The Grand Canyon… was where I wanted to go. If you want to go to the town to walk around or to shop, it’s fine as well.

MC: Since you want to go, of course we’d go – sssss, it’s so spicy!

Gavin: Is it very spicy?

I nod, sticking out my tongue and gulping a few breaths, wanting to relieve the pain from the stimulation caused by the spiciness.

Gavin turns and leans towards me, his breath gradually coming closer until my cheeks feel their warmth.

His rough fingertips touch my lips, which have become slightly reddened from the spice. In a second, I can’t tell what is stimulating my senses...

I can only feel the weightlessness caused by my consciousness sinking along with the darkness around me.

After a brief rub, he chuckles against my lips.

Gavin: Is it still spicy?

In the dark space, I can feel the warmth of his breaths. I shake my head.

His fingertips brush my lips lightly, and he lifts the long hair that had blocked my vision.

Gavin: MC, you’re really not giving me a chance to accommodate to your wishes?

MC: [blushing] Not even one. You’re always accommodating to what I want. It’s so overbearing.

The sky has turned dark. I hear every single one of Gavin’s breaths, and feel their warmth on my cheek and the side of my neck.

He holds me in an embrace, and his low voice is mixed with his warmth and smile.

Gavin: Then I will make a correction now. Cancel our original plans for tonight... from this moment onwards, follow all of my commands.

[Note: Included his voice clip in the link above to enhance your reading pleasure]

[a-dragons-journal]

My Experiences of Nonhumanity

I get asked about “what makes you/people in general feel you’re/they’re otherkin” a lot, and while the answer is far from simple and my experiences are anything but universal, I figure it deserves a write-up once in a while. A friend asked about it a couple nights ago, so I wrote up a huge long message on Discord, and decided to rewrite it into a Tumblr post for posterity. This’ll be a long one, folks; hit J on desktop to skip.

It’s worth noting ahead of time: none of these things are required to be otherkin, and none of them automatically mean you’re otherkin. In fact, most of them are little more than mildly “weird” quirks when they occur in isolation, and only start to push outside the range of “normal human experiences” when many of them occur together. You can’t look at someone (including yourself) and say “they like collecting things, they must be dragonkin!” It’s not that simple. You have to take the individual as a whole even as you examine each specific experience in more detail - don’t lose the forest while you’re studying the trees. This is just a description of my personal experiences.

Shifts

- Phantom shifts/supernumerary phantom limbs: Probably the most obvious thing and the hardest to brush off, although I still managed to do so for years. Phantom shifts, aka supernumerary phantom limbs, are the experience of feeling limbs or body parts that do not and never have physically existed. In my case, the most common phantom limbs to show up are my wings and tail; other body parts, such as digitigrade legs, horns, snout, and paws/talons, also make appearances less frequently. While my phantom limbs almost never attempt to replicate tactile sensations/interactions with the physical world, they’re often defined by very vivid proprioception (ability to tell where your body is in space, mainly via muscle stretch receptors), and I can tell where each part of the limb is at any given time - it’s not just a shapeless sense of “weight,” or it wouldn’t be phantom limbs. I can also move them at will, typically. My phantom shifts are typically spontaneous and involuntary, but they’ve been induced artificially a couple different ways as well, though I can’t typically do it at will.

- Sensory shifts: Still not something I’m totally sure I experience, but there are definitely times my sense of smell becomes insanely strong compared to usual even for me, which fits the definition of a sensory shift.

- Astral shifts: While I’m far from an adept astral traveler, when visualizing “traveling” within my own mindscape, I shift form fluidly between human and dragon - although I almost always have wings at the very least.

- Cameo shifts: Mentioned only because it’s relevant to my phantom shifts. I realized at some point that the reason I get cameo shifts of canine/feline ears sometimes is because they usually show up when they’re pricking/flattening to express emotion, and the muscles that move to do that action are basically the same as the ones that do those actions with the crest that runs down my neck, and because of my obsession with cats/dogs/horses as a young child and because that’s not a particularly strong phantom shift for me usually, I connected the dots a little wrong and created a false association.

- Self-image: This isn’t technically a shift, but it’s going here anyway because it doesn’t really fit in any other section either. My body image/self-image is weird. I know, consciously, what I physically look like. However, my instinctive self-image is... hmm. What I “expect” to see doesn’t always match up with what’s actually there when I look in the mirror. Teeth are a huge point of fixation for me for some reason; I always expect them to be larger, sharper, stronger. I expect my neck to be longer, my face to be... different. I expect scales in places. I expect claws. Even knowing consciously that of course it won’t be there, it’s still strange sometimes that it’s not. There’s sometimes some mild disconnect when I see myself. (Sometimes not. But sometimes.)

Homesickness

(Or, the sense of missing something you’ve never had - not of “I want/want to be [x], and it makes me sad/upset that I don’t have/am not that,” but of “I should have/be [x], and it is fundamentally wrong that I do/am not.”)

- Flight: I have always wanted to fly, and for a long time I thought everyone ached for the sky the same way I did. Most people don’t, as it turns out. Yes, everyone’s fantasized about flying, but most people don’t feel bones-deep, crushing, physical pain in their chest thinking about it. Most people don’t lift up onto their toes instinctively straining for the sky. I’ve felt that aching longing for it for as long as I can remember.

- Connection to dragons: For as long as I can remember knowing about dragons, I loved the idea of them and even when I was very young, when I’d only really been exposed to media where they were the great evil for the hero to defeat and received no more character development than “evil, destructive, fire-breathing beast,” I was always on the dragon’s side and wanted to learn more about them. That hasn’t faded. I’ll watch an absolutely terrible movie or TV show that I otherwise loathe if it has good enough animation and sound design on the dragons. (Looking at you, Game of Thrones.*) I would commit arson to see one of those Isle-style dragon survival games actually go through and finish production. (Holding out hope for the Dragon Game Project on YouTube; go check them out if you haven’t already.) I’ve also used dragons to represent myself for pretty much as long as I’ve had an online presence - years before I ever heard of otherkin, I was calling myself Dragonheart.

- Dragon-like creatures: Snakes, crocodilians, and dinosaurs all fall into this category - all of them give me a similar heart-and-breathing-pick-up, aching familiarity to dragons. They’re not perfect, but in a snake’s scales and a crocodile’s bellows and a dinosaur’s spectacular reptilian size I see echoes of us and I have always loved them with a passion, even before I quite knew why.

- Dragon/”monster” noises: Sound generators, creature sound design, real animal noises, etc. that are meant to be monstrous and that most people find unsettling or even frightening, I find comforting and relaxing. Alligator bellows, “monster noise” soundscapes, etc. all apply here.

* No shade on anyone who likes Game of Thrones, I’m just not a fan. :P

Behaviors/Instincts/Urges

- Hoarding: I’m still not sure how much of the crystal thing is "monkey brain say Shiney Colorful," how much is a witch thing, and how much is a dragon thing, but some of it is a dragon thing.

- Territorial/possessive nature: I can get... extremely territorial over my stuff and my home. This can extend right into being ridiculously protective of my people too, although I do try to rein that in to a reasonable amount. This also extends into games like Capture the Flag, because put me on defending the border during middle and high school and I got frighteningly territorial. (Fun fact, this extends to spiritual protection stuff and it has almost gotten me in trouble a few times on that front.) The other main side effect is my brain trying to claim completely inappropriate things as “mine,” like every piano I have ever touched or, that one time, the entire city of Portland.

- Prey drive: Going on a walk in the woods with me will always be an exercise in stopping every twenty seconds because I heard a small animal move in the brush and froze instinctively to track it. Prey drive ranges from "okay I can indulge this enough to track-stalk-chase without actually intending to catch-kill-eat" to "this is entirely inappropriate and needs to Stop Right Now" depending on the day and the situation - sometimes it’s fairly low-key and innocent, but sometimes it's also being confronted with the sudden and completely serious/genuine thought of grabbing someone or something by the neck/around the body with your jaws and hunt-prey-kill-devour when it's completely inappropriate and kind of disturbing or even sickening. It’s one of the more annoying things, although it’s not like it’s severe enough that I’m an actual danger to anyone - it’s just a gut thought that gets filtered out at the conscious level without significant problems. This also bleeds into games (I get... maybe a little overenthusiastic during tag) and even watching TV shows or gaming videos - most of the time at least part of me is rooting for the hunter because I relate to them as a fellow predator, even if the audience is supposed to be rooting for the prey - I mean, protagonists.

- Basking/heat-seeking: Probably only partially a dragon thing, but despite the fact that I hate heat in general, radiant/sun heat and heat from a heated surface are both fantastic feelings provided the ambient air temperature isn't too high. I'm guessing this is at least partially a reptile brain thing.

- Height-seeking: Give me a chance to climb up on top of something - a rock, a cliff, a chair, a table, a bunk bed - and look out over everything else, and I'll take it in an instant. Getting to climb up on the roof is the best thing that's happened to me this entire quarantine.

- Flight instinct: Being mildly leery of cliffs not because I am afraid of falling, because I'm really not, but because there's always some part of my brain that goes "jump, fly, this is a perfect takeoff spot" and I have to squash that before I do something particularly stupid. This manifests in other ways, but that's the most dramatic (and annoying) one. This is also one of the things I noticed as definitively not normal long before my awakening. (The Grand Canyon was fun.)  Similarly to the prey drive thing, it's not like I'm actually in danger of throwing myself off cliffs, it’s just - there's a not-insignificant part of my brain that thinks "hey we should go run and jump off and take a quick flight," in the same way I might also casually think "hey I should stroll across to the corner store for a bag of chips" before I consciously decide whether or not to do that. It’s the exact same type of thought process, despite the fact that one of those things is something I might do on any given school day, and the other is, you know, physically impossible.

- Combat instincts: I get in a fight and my pure instinct is to bite or claw, not kick or punch or whatever it is humans do instinctively. I have those reflexes now courtesy of Krav, but I had to train them in - if you’d thrown me into a fight before, I absolutely would have resorted to claws/nails and teeth immediately (and I still will, when pressed into a corner). Sometimes, unfortunately, this goes off completely unwarranted, either in an anger situation that does not deserve a physical response, or for no apparent reason whatsoever. It's one of the more problematic things, but once again - it’s not like it’s a compulsion, just a gut-emotion thought that gets filtered out at the conscious level.

- Scent focus: Who knows how much of this is environmental influence and how much is instinctive, but I always have and still do focus on scent more than most humans seem to. I can identify people by scent, I seem to pay more attention to it than most people do. I also seem less bothered by natural body smells than most people do, but considering the responses when I asked around in the otherkin community once about that, unclear whether or not that's connected.

- Nonhuman noises: I make just a bunch of weird nonhuman noises, and always have. Growls, hisses, croons, hurrs, throat-clicks, chirps, etc. I've never met any human who does them instinctively like I do except my half-sister (whom I didn’t meet until a couple years ago), and she was just as surprised to hear me do it as I was surprised to hear her do it.

- Affection: Face-rubbing, light head-bonking against someone’s shoulder/body/head, and love nips/bites are all perfectly acceptable ways to show platonic affection, to dragon brain. Human society disagrees. The instinct to do these things is so strong that I definitely do give into the first two with people I’m close with, and I have physically had to catch and restrain myself when I was about to unthinkingly bite/nip someone’s skin because I wasn’t paying enough attention.

- Movement: Moving on all fours just feels better than moving on two legs, even though it’s objectively physically uncomfortable because humans aren’t built for that. I also have the instinctive want to be a lot more flexible than I’m capable of being, in ways I’m not capable of being - curling all the way around something or someone to squeeze them tight in the coil of my body, turning my head a hundred eighty degrees because my neck Should Be Longer.

- Expression: Baring one’s teeth when frustrated, irritated, or angry is not a particularly human instinct. I realize it’s something a lot of primates do do, but. *gestures at society* Humans ain’t one of them, at least not anymore. Even in Krav Maga, which is a self-defense style that focuses on being vicious and “dirty fighting” to survive a real street fight, every single time I have a new partner (and most times I have a partner I’ve worked with before) and I get tired enough to get snarly, they respond with some variation of “god that’s scary”. See also: gesturing at things with my nose because it should be long enough to make that a much more dramatic gesture than it ends up being.

- Den/lair/small spaces: I never feel safer than when curled up in a tiny alcove just big enough to comfortably fit my body curled up into it. The only position I’ll prioritize over it is getting up onto a high space.

Past Life Work

Unlike every other bullet point on this list, most of these didn’t apply until I started actively seeking them out, because, you know. Past life memories are like that.

- Past life regressions: I’ve got a tag for these, but tl;dr I take anything I learn from a past life regression or similar meditation/visualization with a whole spoonful of salt, forget “a grain,” because I know for a fact my brain is very good at making stuff up with these types of exercises. Unfortunately, they’re the only way to get information on certain things, like appearance.

- Tarot: Got a tag for that too. I use tarot to ask questions and confirm or reject suspicions.

- Spontaneous memories: I don’t have many, but they’re clear as day when they do appear. I don’t count something as a “true” memory unless it includes senses I can’t reproduce through imagination - smell and touch, mainly. Mostly these are quick flashbulbs, nothing cinematic or anything like that.

- Noemata: Again, I don’t have much in the way of noemata, but what I do have is persistent and consistent. I know things about my wing shape and flight style despite not having really experienced that in detail during past life regressions. That particular set of noemata has been confirmed to fit with real-world physics and bat wing shapes (the closest wing type to mine that exists or has existed on Earth).