#EC/WC
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
tryst-art-archive · 2 years ago
Text
August 2010 Drawings
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
echoes-in-echoclan · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
Uh oh...
Moon 50 - Moon 51.2
171 notes · View notes
gtzel · 1 month ago
Text
Heyo! Just finished chapters 9 and 10 of winter and claus!! Don’t have time to publish and link em on the tumblr, but you can read the entire story here on Wattpad!! Please check it out, and any and all feedback on it is very highly appreciated
Tumblr media
40 notes · View notes
Text
Dark Forest Resident: Crowfang
Tumblr media
Aliases / Nicknames: Crow, Soot (by Stoneshine and Mintnettle)
Gender: tom
Sexuality: very bisexual
Family: Stoneshine (mother), Sumacstar (father), Vinetangle, Mintnettle, Scarletsplash (sisters), Dewfrost, Beechdrift, Robinfeather, Blizzardsky (brothers), Thrushkit (half-brother), Featherwing, Jaspershade (adopted brothers), Maplesap (mate), Wiltedrose (daughter with Belladonnashade), Ravenshine/star (daughter with Maplesap), Magpieflight, Shrikewing, Jayswoop, Walnutshell (sons with Maplesap), Belladonnashade, Brokencry (ex-mates), Lightblaze/star (ex-fling),
Other Relations: Rosethistle (mentor), Darkrose (Dark Forest mentor), Charmshade, Nightbreeze (apprentices)
Clan: Darkclan
Rank: senior warrior
Characteristics: quiet, calm in the face of battle
Number of Victims: 3+
Number of Murders: 3+
Murder Method: bashing heads against rocks, slitting open chests
Known Victims: Beetleshell, Belladonnashade, Freckleshade
Victim Profile: sister's abuser, ex-mate, mate's brother / ghost of his ex-mate
Cause Of Death: suicide of death berries
Cautionary Tale: N/A
Story:
Based around these song lyrics:
Joan was quizzical, studied pataphysical Science in the home Late nights all alone with a test-tube, ohh uh oh oh Maxwell Edison majoring in medicine Calls her on the phone "Can I take you out to the pictures, Joan?"
But as she's getting ready to go A knock comes on the door
Bang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammer Came down upon her head Bang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammer Made sure that she was dead
Back in school again Maxwell plays the fool again
Teacher gets annoyed
Wishing to avoid an unpleasant scene She tells Max to stay when the class has gone away So he waits behind Writing fifty times I must not be so, uh oh oh
But when she turns her back on the boy He creeps up from behind
Bang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammer Came down upon her head (do-do, do-do do) Bang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammer Made sure that she was dead
PC 31 said, "We caught a dirty one" Maxwell stands alone Painting testimonial pictures, ohh uh oh oh Rose and Valerie screaming from the gallery Say he must go free (Maxwell must go free) The judge does not agree and he tells them so, uh oh oh
But as the words are leaving his lips A noise comes from behind
Bang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammer Came down upon his head (do-do, do-do do) Clang, clang, Maxwell's silver hammer Made sure that he was dead
Whoa, whoa, whoa, oh (Do-do, do-do do)
Silver Hammer Max
Additional Information:
--Sumbission by @jackisbored​
--Song link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mJag19WoAe0
5 notes · View notes
kazumist · 7 months ago
Text
DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS .ᐟ
Tumblr media
✩ — in which you found yourself confessing to your childhood friend, soshiro. all thanks to the liquid courage you got.
✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader. fluff. cw: reader is implied to wear makeup (but i didn't really use any gendered terms haha), ooc!hoshina i think.. uhm i wrote him differently here than how i usually write him ack TT. wc: 778. one (1) pet name used (bub). reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated !!
Tumblr media
“let’s get you home.” hoshina swings your arm over his shoulder as he places his arm around your waist to balance you in his hold. “huuuuh? have we met before?’ you ask as your words are slurred. you look at the man holding you, squinting your eyes to get a good look at him (though that doesn’t really help because nothing is really processing for you at the moment). “we’ve been literally friends since we were kids.” hoshina says.
“ehhhh? soshiro?! no way! you’re all… you’re all so grown up now!” you exclaimed. soshiro takes note of the blush on your cheeks, and the way you keep stumbling in your steps. although it’s rare, he just sighs as he confirms that you were absolutely drunk at the moment. “that’s because i ain’t a kid anymore, you silly.”
getting you back to your dormitory was a hard task, even for the vice captain of the third division. only because during your trip back you kept making random comments like how soshiro was almost as pretty as the moon (you were looking at a street lamp thinking it was the moon) and he could only hold back his laugh.
as hoshina settles you on your bed, he proceeds to remove your makeup from your face. knowing you this long was enough for him to become familiar with your routine when it comes to attending celebrations like these. he gently wipes the cosmetic products from your face, making sure to keep quiet because you finally slept.
well, apparently, you still woke up either way. “you know, hiro…” the nickname rolled off of your tongue perfectly—almost too perfectly, if soshiro must admit. only you could call him that; after all, you were the one who came up with that nickname for him anyway. you stared at him with half lidded eyes, too tired to fully open them. “you have a stupid face.” you finish.
hoshina found himself dumbfounded.
“eh?”
“but it’s my favorite face to look at.”
oh.
"i suppose i'm grateful for the compliment.” he pushes the hairs that were hiding your face aside and chuckles. “you should go home; i might do something stupid.” he tilts his side to the side in confusion. “like what?”
“like kissing you.” he froze.
surely, this is just the alcohol, right? soshiro wonders, surprised at your words as he held his breath. “or maybe i roll off of my bed and end up sleeping on the floor.” you continue. he lets out a sigh of relief. soshiro only kept his feelings for you to himself. though he’d casually make some gestures, and that’s good enough to question if you’re crossing the line between friends and lovers.
“you should sleep. you’re completely drunk right now.”
“i'm totally, absolutely not at all drunk at all. like... at all!”
“sure, and i’m not the vice captain of this division.” he receives a pout from you as you turn away from him. he laughs at your antics, gently shaking you as he apologizes. you refused to face him as you focused your gaze on the wall. liquid courage was no joke—because you somehow feel more confident to admit more... personal thoughts to the man who’s sitting behind you.
“hey, soshiro?”
“yeah? are you feeling a bit better now?”
“i… would you hate me if i said that i like you? like, you know… more than what we are right now.”
once again, hoshina froze. his breath hitched as he processed what you had asked. would you hate me if i said that i like you? your voice echoed in his head. you still refuse to face him but you know that he knows that he could see you right now. no, he wouldn’t hate you—hell, why did you think that he would hate you because of that in the first place? he would be ecstatic!
“can you face me for a minute, bub?” the pet name came off so smoothly—you were the only one he called that with. you hesitantly, roll to your other side, looking up to the man sitting on the side of your bed. you quickly avoided his gaze, but his hand pushes away your hair from your face again. “i wouldn’t hate you for that, but i’d rather not have this conversation when you’re drunk like this. so don’t forget this conversation, ‘kay? we’ll talk about it once you wake up. can you promise me to remember this, bub?”
“i promise. how could i… forget…” you trailed off. yawning in between your words before your eyes finally decided to rest themselves.
soshiro feels delighted that he has something to look forward to for tomorrow.
625 notes · View notes
spicy30 · 2 months ago
Text
Modernness of 1400s 006
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader
Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N
Rating: 18+
Not proofread
Tags: @fan-goddess @meowmeowmothermeower @bunxia @your-favorite-god @coolalienstatesmansports @georgiatesulitsyeykite @qwerrtsworld @wegottastayfocus @dakota-rain666 @talilosha @the-deep-dark-abyss @101crows @agustdeeyaa @ggglich-exe @illjhhlisa @deepeststarlightmoon @cluelessteam @a-fruity-snack @i-zenin
Side note: I don't know why it won't let me tag ppl.
WC: 8.9k
Tumblr media
“Princess Helaena?” You entered looking at her. She looked up, putting one of her twins down. It still freaked you out that they were born out of sibling incest. “I have…brought a gift and a proposition.” You spoke quietly as you entered the room looking at the twins. 
You bowed and sat before her while she looked at you with a tilted head and wide eyes. It almost hurt to look at her. She wasn’t too far off from your age yet she held such wide child-like eyes. A child with two children. However, Helena was… breathtakingly beautiful. Of course, all Targeyens were as you quickly came to learn. Even the ones you didn’t like were beautiful. Though you don’t think anyone could hold a candle to the woman in front of you. You shook your head when you realized you were staring for a little too long at her. 
“Sorry. I have bought treats for your children and you, along with a gift that I thought you might enjoy.” You cleared your throat and had the snacks brought in. You smiled at your latest creations. While solving the genetics problem, you figured you needed brain food. Though your version of brain food included what was on the platters they had brought in. 
Potato chips, french fries, and popcorn! After nearly three weeks of starving yourself of junk food, you were feigning for something. 
“What are those?” Helaena asked. You picked up a crisp and bit down on it and it let out a crunch. 
“Potatoes with salt. This one too.” You picked up a fry and ate it. “And this is corn, but it is popped. I call it popcorn! It also pops when cooked. Try them, I think your children might like them more than you and I.” 
You watched Helaena eat one and smile as she chewed and you nodded knowingly. It wasn’t long before she called the twins over and they too began eating the treats. As Jaehaera and Jaehaerys took off with the plate you brought out something wrapped in a napkin. “I made this for you. I was told you liked sweets?”
She nodded and looked curiously at the cloth. Should it be anything like what you had her taste she was looking forward to this. She watched you unwrap the cloth, and there was a golden brown circular thing sprinkled with what looked like sugar. In the middle was something purple and it was glossy. She took it and smelled it before taking a bite. It was soft and the filling tasted like plums. Once more she smiled and you nodded knowingly again. 
“So uh,” You grin toward Helaena. “I hear you like dragon riding.”
… 
“Oh man….” You grimaced looking down at the paper. 
Bb:½ 
BB: ¼ 
bb:¼ 
Bb or BB taken. (HC)
Bb:½ 
BB: ¼ 
bb:¼ 
Bb or BB taken (EC)
JV: ¼ LV: ¼ JOV: ¼ 
¼ * ¼ * ¼  = 1/64 or 1.56%
JV: ¼ LV: ¼ JOV: ¼ = 1.56%
1.56% chance of having present phenotypes. 
You redid the math twice before finally moving on to the assumed father who would have dark hair and dark eyes. Keeping the assumed possibilities…it skyrockets, seventy-five perfect that one child is born with dark hair and dark eyes. 
¾ * ¾ * ¾ = 27/64 ≈ 42.2% 
42.2% chance of having present phenotypes. 
You took a deep breath as you cradled your face in your hands, double-checking the math in your head. There was no mistaking it. Officially and deemed by science. Jacaerys Valeyron, Lucerys Valeryon, and Joffery Valeyron were bastards. 
It was visible to anyone to see their parentage, but now here it was in numbers further damaging them. Were you wrong? No. You had checked the math dozens of times. Your math wasn’t wrong, but were you wrong? Wrong for doing this? Was it right? You only did what was asked of you. You suggested it. You were wrong. Were you? This could ruin lives. You could ruin lives. Is that why you’re here? Truly here? Why were you here? Why was this wrong? It was wrong. You were wrong.
You spiraled. You turned your head away from the table and his scent invaded you. You inhaled deeply balling your fists. Jacaerys coat still hung on your chair. Were you wrong?
A knock sounded on your door and you rushed to hide your work and hide Jacaerys’s coat. Stuffing his coat into your suitcase while you tossed the rolled-up paper under your bed you scrambled to your feet to open the door. 
There stood the last person you wanted to see right now. Jacaerys. You put on the best smile you could and extended your hand to him to beckon him inside. That night as you watched the movie your thoughts ran rampant. 
You wondered as you watched him become engrossed in the movie. Such innocent wandering. So many innocents here. You bit your lip. You were unsure of what to do. Go to Otto and tell him? No…you should probably hold off for a little bit. 
“Mayhaps, we can have a painter paint your pictures so that you may have them forever.” 
You snapped your head up. “Really? You would do that?” Your lips formed a wobbly smile. “It would mean the world to me to have them painted out.” You reached out in the dark for his hands holding them close to you. “Thank you Jacaerys Valeryon, really. Thank you.” 
Too many innocents. 
There would be too many innocents hurt. If you had proven him a bastard, what would become of his mother’s claim? The last woman they voted against because she simply was a woman. If it was proven Rhaenrya had no true heirs other than her last two children, she would be labeled a whore. You can only imagine the riots and the insults that will be thrown, and then those that would be slaughtered.
As you walked Jacaerys out you were silent thinking over your next steps. If you truly were here to make a change, if you had to change the course of history, then here and now would influence everything for centuries to come. You would influence centuries.
“Good night Prince Jacaerys.” You bowed. It was the first time you had addressed him as much. Your mind swirled with thoughts. To reform civilization. To speedrun progress. You shut the door and looked back towards your fan watching it spin.
“I am here to make a change.” You murmured as your eyes focused towards the window. Your brows furrowed as you nodded. “Okay. I will. I am…”
With that, you pulled another piece of parchment paper and went to grab the finished genetic problem. Rhaenerya must become Queen. If she became Queen, it would bring about a new era and you would make her reign the best there ever was. An era of change and progress brought about by women. The seeds of equality between man and woman would be planted by you and your first seed would be implanting Rhaenyra as Queen. 
There could be no doubts about her children’s legitimacy. So you rewrote the entire equation. Minor differences made big changes and soon with extra scribbles and making the problem more complicated than it should be…that night you were able to legitimize Jacaerys Valeyron, Lucerys Velaryon, and Joffery Valeryron. 
You looked towards the window, squinting your eyes as the sun began to rise. It had taken nearly a night, but your new and revised equation would serve you well. Standing up and grabbing the old equation you walked over to the fireplace. Once you burned this paper, the truth would be burned and your plan would begin. Without a doubt, you tossed it into the fire and it burned bright. You felt the heat lick at your face as you watched the paper shrivel and burn. 
You would speak to Otto and Alicent after your week away to the Riverlands with Helaena. 
You dragged your luggage as you walked to the Dragon pit. You struggled to keep up with Heleana who only offered a smile. 
“Wait here, I will bring out Dreamfyre.” She spoke and you nodded and watched her enter the pit. 
You didn’t know what to expect. Yes, you had seen Vermax, but no other dragon since. You didn’t even know what other dragons they had. You knew Aegon had one, but did Aemond have one? What about Daemon or Rhaenerya? Lucerys? You didn’t know. Were there wild dragons? Is there a place where they’re from? Were there other kinds? Like in how to train your dragon. Maybe large sea beasts! You gave a gasp and a smile bloomed on your face. Could you claim one? Oh, shoot! Maybe an ice-spitting one or one like toothless! However, a fire-breathing dragon is still pretty cool. 
The ground rumbled and you looked as a large claw came out. You stepped back in fear and shock as the very large dragon came out with a roar with Helaena on top. Her dragon was certainly prettier than Vermax in your humble opinion. Dreamfyre was pale blue with silver markings, silver crests, and pale blue wings. She was breathtakingly beautiful. However, that didn’t do much for your pounding heart as Dreamfyre snarled at you. 
Maybe riding a dragon wasn’t a good idea. Dreamfyre was a lot larger than Vermax. You watched the helpers strap yours and Helaena’s luggage to Dreamfyre whilst speaking Valyrian. You were still a bit salty about the fact that you could understand next to nothing when they spoke. 
You watched as Helaena giggled and smiled as she hugged Dreamfyre’s snout. You smiled at the sight though you stood off far in the distance awkwardly. 
“Do you like her?” Helena asked as she turned around looking towards you. 
“Like her? Of course, I do!” You grinned pushing back your fear. Helaena gave you a sweet smile. “How or why is she so big?” You asked with a laugh hoping to cover up your nervousness.
“Dreamfyre is about one hundred-” She began softly while petting Dreamfyre. 
“One hundred!? Years!” You cut her off and your volume made Helaena jump a bit. Dreamfyre was quick to snarl as you gave a small whimper and put your hands up backing away. “Sorry! Sorry. It’s just- one hundred years you said!? How old can they get!? How big can they get!?” You asked keeping your eyes on Dreamfyre making sure you could make a run for it if the situation called for it. 
“I don’t know. I know Balerion was about two hundred years old when he died and he was much larger than Dreamfyre and Vhagar is a couple of decades older than Dreamfyre. She is the biggest of all dragons. She is called the Queen of Dragons.” As Helaena spoke your jaw was slightly agape listening to her. Did you have any animals that were like that? Live to what sounds about two to three hundred years? Trees maybe? Tortoises can live for a hundred or so, no? What about crocodiles? Parrots? No, they only lived up to like fifty or sixty. 
You cleared your throat and nodded pointing at the dragon. “Is she safe to approach?” The last thing you wanted was to be burned alive. Not after you just had your dramatic moment of committing to what you were going to do for the rest of your foreseeable future here. Or even worse, get some part of you burned. That would be ugly, and painful. High chance of getting infected as well. Not a good way to die. It was a miracle you hadn’t caught anything. Didn’t they have smallpox here or something? Most importantly has the black plague already passed?
Helaena smiled and nodded as you stepped closer with caution. You say the way Dreamfyre eyed you. She didn’t seem the most pleased with you. Helaena guided your hand towards Dreamfyre scales. You gritted your teeth in fear and leaned back against Helaena. “Wait! Shouldn’t you let her smell me first or something!? Tell her to not bite my hand off!” 
“Dreamfyre won’t bite you,” Helena assured you but it did nothing to calm you. Not as long as Dreamfyre kept looking at you with a look that stated ‘If Helaena wasn’t here you’d be toast. Literally.’
Your hand touched her warm scales and Dreamfyre gave out a huff. You retracted your hand quickly and stepped away, giving out a little squeal and shaking your hands. You took in a deep breath before nodding to Helaena who only gave you an innocent smile. “Okay, I’m ready. To the Riverlands.” 
As you adjusted yourself in the seat you held on tight to Helaena as she commanded Dreamfyre to fly out. Whilst you gritted your teeth Helaena only gave sounds of contentment. Well, at least one of you was enjoying it. As Dreamfyre picked up height you looked over the lands of King’s Landing. You’d like to see these lands a bit better. It would be nice to find a lake. Preferably walking distance or something. You needed to get out more anyway.
“Can we fly closer to the ground, below the clouds? I’d like to look down.” You asked. You assumed Helaena obliged though you could’ve done with a warning as Dreamfyre plunged. You have a high-pitched scream as Helaena only laughs enjoying the weightless feeling.  
Your grip is tight around her waist as you breathe heavily with wide and concerned eyes. Shaking your head you look around watching the unused green lands. Usually, when you look down in airplanes you would see lands cultivated by agriculture. It was almost strange just seeing green undisturbed. In the distance you squint your eyes and what looked like a lake. It wasn’t too far from King’s Landing. You tapped Helaena and pointed to the water. She looked confused but obliged. You gritted your teeth once more and hung onto Helaena for dear life as Dreamfyre made a sharp turn to the right. It only took a minute to reach the lake. It was in the middle of a small valley and coming from a small waterfall. You looked to the southwest and saw that King’s Landing was still in view. If you had to guess it was about three to four kilometers (≈ 2.45 miles) You gave a small nod. Yes, this distance would be good. It wasn’t too far. It was within walking distance. “Helaena, do you know who owns these lands?” 
Helaena shrugged and shook her head. “Who are the Lords near here?” You asked and Heleana paused to think about it. 
“House Rosby, but I think this might be too close to King’s Landing. It might just be the King’s Land.” You gave a hum listening to Helaena. If this was the King’s land, that would work better for you. 
You nodded then told her you were ready to go to the River Lands.
“I have already been unseated once before Daemon.” Rhaenerya urged. “Let me at the very least see the children home.” 
“You were unseated due to the uselessness of Laenor, I am not Laenor. I will not leave my brother. The Hightowers have ruled for long enough.” Daemon spoke unbothered by his wife’s dilemma while flexing his thumb. There was some stiffness but the pain was now gone. However, his nose ached. A cunt you were. 
From what he had heard you had left for the Riverlands two days ago with Helaena in search of an herb. He had also heard that you have been whoring yourself out, maids apparently seeing love marks on your chest and your late outings, but who was he to judge? 
Daemon Targaryen. That’s who he was, so he would judge you. He would judge your unusual way of speaking, your lack of manners (had you been a Valyrian woman perhaps he would have overlooked it), and your radical ideas. Everything about you grated him, quite the stroke of luck you must have to be favored by the Queen and his brother. He would’ve had your head by now if it had been anyone else. 
“You should see Jacaerys and Lucerys home.” Daemon looked up from his hand towards Rhaenyra who had a surprised expression apparently not expecting him to agree. “That girl is a minx. Not only does she have the Queen and King’s support, but Aegon and Helaena take a liking to her as well. Jacaerys already seems interested despite being engaged to Baela. I will not have my daughter being left for a slut that can be found on the street of silk.” It would be an embarrassment to him, his family, his heritage. A woman of non-valyrian descent takes the husband from his daughter who is not only fully Valyrian but a dragon rider no less.
“Jacaerys will not father any bastards with that girl much less leave Baela for her.” Rhaenrya held Daemon’s hand. “When I am Queen, I will send her far from here.”
“I’d like to have her executed. Have you yet to see how long Jacaerys spends on Dragon Back during the late hours? That girl has shown him something and now he spends his night searching for them. The boy searches for artists, those who paint portraits, why do you think that is?” Daemon tears his hand away from Rhaenrya. 
“She has healed my father Daemon. What Maesters could not do for over twenty years she has done in a fortnight. If my first action as Queen was to execute her the whole council would call me cruel.” Rhaenrya does not doubt that you have been worming your way into her family, but as it stands she does not have a valid reason to behead you.
“She is despised by the citadel and shows to have no regard for the seven. That girl has plenty of enemies around her, should you behead her, the Old Town will be more favorable to you.” Allies for Rhaenrya’s rule were needed. The first female monarch would need to appeal to everyone. 
“You hate the seven and the citadel. You care little for them, why would we try to please them?” Rhaenrya raised a brow towards her husband. 
“Frame this right and the small folk will despise her. You will be Queen, the first Queen of Westeros.” Daemon looked up towards Rhaenyra as she stood with her hands on her swollen stomach.
“She will likely earn a pardon from Alicent. A sum will be paid to her and the girl will leave back to wherever it is she came from. I will not behead the woman who has saved my father. Once her usefulness is no longer needed then as you said, the Citadel and the High Septons will call for her banishment.” Daemon looks at his wife as she sits down rubbing her belly. You need to go. Now. 
You were quite cumbersome. His brother refused to hear any criticisms of you and with Alicent in his ear, you were untouchable. You had clearly allied yourself with the greens and here in King’s Landing other than a few loyal gold cloaks, Daemon had no one to track you properly. Much to his displeasure Rhaenrya had kept him on Dragon Stone when they married. 
It was a sore spot for him. He left his niece with the impression that she would be able to handle herself and keep the Greens in control. Clearly not. He had no idea how to keep you in check; you did not fear him as much as you once did. That night that he had you running away from him, those days were far behind you. He could only assume that you were wrapping up any princes and princesses you could get your hands on to keep you safe. You had nothing to your name other than the protection of the Greens and now regrettably the future heir to the Iron Throne. 
Your cards were being well played and Daemon felt as if he was the only one truly playing against you. The only one who could see the wolf in sheep's clothing. The only one who saw your scheming and your seduction. The only thing he couldn’t see from you was your end goal. The Iron Throne? To conquer? Conquer what? All of Westeros? You had no dragon and no Valyrian blood as was visible. Mayhaps a spy from strange lands to bring down the Targaryen dynasty. Why? Some free cities weren’t fond of the Valyrians.
Daemon pressed the secret door and walked through the hidden halls of Maegor’s holdfast. As he fastened his cloak around him he heard steps echoing. He paused and listened. More likely than not a rat trapper. He waited and a figure passed him and an unmistakable scent. A conniving little girl you were. When and how did you discover these halls?
His hand itched for his ancestral sword; Dark sister. 
Fuck.
 He had left it in the room, if he were to go back for it he would lose you. Would he get another chance to rid himself of you once and for all? He clenched his jaw and followed you without any weapons. He followed you through the halls. You took twists and turns. Did you know where you were going? Did you know he was following you? Why weren’t you running then? Finally, you stopped and he stopped as well. He saw you press your hand to the wall. There was no door there. You didn’t know where you were going.
He grinned and crept behind you. He heard you give a small gasp and before you could run away he grabbed the hood of your cloak and some of your hair. It would be a while before anyone would find your body. A rip sounded and you were running away from him. He chased after you. You turned the corner. He ran faster but as he turned the corner he felt pain shoot through his face. He groaned but went to punch you, however, you seemed to duct or he misdirected the punch in the dark, he didn’t know, all he knew is that shoved into a nearby wall and suddenly your scent invaded his now bleeding nose as he watched you run back the way you came.
Swallowing the pain he grunted and stood up running after you. Much to Daemon’s displeasure you did eventually find a door and ran out. He chased after you but lost you as you jumped down the stairs and just before you disappeared into the streets of King’s Landing you seemed to turn around. You both stood there, Daemon from the top of the stairs holding his nose and you with all the people and streets of King’s Landing behind you. 
You flipped him off. 
He grunted in frustration as he watched you walk and disappear in the masses of King’s Landing. That was the second time you had caught him by surprise. 
A couple of days later he learned that you had been dealing with madams of whore house in the Street of Silk.
The moment you felt the humid air hit you your smile immediately evaporated. The humidity was your worst enemy. It wasn’t long before a castle came into view. It was built upon what looked like a swamp.
“Where are we?” You asked Helaena. 
“Riverrun. The ancestral castle of House Tully. The current lord is Grover Tully.” You hummed as Dreamfyre went to land, though as she roared it startled you causing you to lose your grip on Helaena and nearly slip off. You screamed as you managed to grab onto a rope on the saddle. Helaena gasped and attempted to grab you and in her haste steered Dreamfyre into a sharp left turn. 
You scream again as you help the rope tight. You didn’t dare look down. “Just land her!” You yelled and Dreamfyre dove and you screamed. Maybe a dragon wasn’t such a good idea. 
The sudden change as Dreamfyre gilded whipped you and the rope snapped. You screamed as you were launched into the swamp. You sank into the murky waters and your survival instincts kicked in. You desperately swam upwards, or what you thought was upwards. You were sent into the water spiraling. You were running out of air. As you swam upwards you gave a groan fighting the urge to not scream. A Charley horse now plagued you.
Great. 
Trying to calm yourself down you swam up mermaid style trying to preserve your energy. You took in a large breath as you broke through the water. You aligned yourself into a backstroke position letting your cramping calf float as you swam backwards towards land hearing Helaena shout your name. Dreamfyre had launched you pretty far and now much to your embarrassment people were watching you from the castle as you swam back to shore. 
Finally when you could stand you grimaced as you did your best to get out of the murky water. What if there were crocodiles or worse!? Clearly, things that didn’t exist in your world existed here. Who knows what was in the waters? You made a sound of desperation as you limped out of the water and fell on the grass.
As you rested on the grass you heard buzzing in your head. Great. Of course, swamps and mosquitoes went hand in hand. You swatted it away as you stood up and limped towards Helaena. 
“Are you hurt?” She asked, looking down at you worriedly. 
“Just a cramp.” You paused as an intrusive thought entered your mind. Good lord. What if you caught Malaria!? Your face contorted into one of disgust against your will and suddenly goosebumps covered your arms and your hair stood on end. Under no circumstances could you get bit by mosquitoes or anything here! 
A male voice called out to both you and Helaena. You turned and greeted the…well actually he looked to be around your age, he had a young face. 
“My Lord.” Both you and Helaena greeted each other. The boy or was it a man(?), looking at you with a concerned expression. 
“My lady you appear to have taken quite a fall,” he commented, and although you were completely soaked the back of your neck and face felt hot. 
“Yes, I took a fall…” You trailed off unsure what to say. The faster you leave the place the better. At all costs, you must avoid sickness. The lord invited you inside as Dreamfyre took off. You eyed the dragon from the corner of your eye. Good riddance! The dragon didn’t like you but went a step further and embarrassed you! Madness!
As you limped, Helaena called your name out worriedly as she went to your side. You held your hand out as you gritted your teeth trying to not make any sounds as you went forward. 
“My Lady! You are hurt.” The young lord went to your side. 
“Yes, I swam up too fast. Diver’s cramp. It’s sore, nothing to worry about. It should be better by the morrow” You purse your lips as you hear yourself. ‘By the morrow?’ You had spent entirely too much time here. You were now speaking as they were. You didn’t know how to feel about that.
“Shall I have a knight carry you inside?” Lord Tully offered. You thought for a moment. Well, it would be nice. Lord Tully took your silence as a yes and suddenly you were swept off your feet. 
You hissed as you grabbed onto the knight. “My leg, ser! Please!” 
“Apologies my lady.” The knight was quick to readjust his hand. All you could do was stare at the knight and give a simple smile as his hand was now a little bit higher than what was proper, even by your standards.
Fortunately, you, the young lord, had the insight to send for a bath prepared for you. As the knight carried you up the stairs you were especially grateful. Walking after a fresh cramp was always the worst. Finally reaching your room you smiled giving a friendly tap. “You are a very strong user.” You nodded as he thanked you before leaving.
Much to your displeasure inside the castle it was still very much humid. What you wouldn’t give for your fan right now. This was so much worse than King’s Landing. As you peeled yourself out of the wet dress you limped towards the bath in your room. You sank into the warm water. Honestly cold would’ve been better, but this was fine. 
You scrubbed yourself and waited for your things to be offloaded from Dreamfyre. Find what you came for and go back to King’s Landing. Tomorrow you’d have to go out and you’d be fully covered too, unfortunately.
“My lady, Lord Tully, has asked if there is anything he can offer.” The maid entered your chambers placing your belongings on the side of your bed. 
“Do you have alcohol?” You turned to face the maid. Bug spray had alcohol, no? Your mother used cinnamon to keep away pests such as fruit flies from fruit. Is cinnamon exported from ‘Essos?’ Is cinnamon a thing?
“Alcohol?” The maid asked, tilting her head. 
“Ale, beer, wine. Preferable ale or beer.” You clarified. “Along with that, do you have cinnamon?”
“Of course, I will send for Ale and I’m unsure. We have not imported any goods from Essos. I will ask the kitchen. Anything else?” You shook your head and dismissed her as you began scrubbing yourself. If you didn’t find what you came for there would be a serious issue. At this point, you might need this just as much as the King. 
‘Oh shit!’ You landed on the hard floor and pain shot up your legs as your feet tingled. You groaned as you stood up and looked behind you. Of course, it was Daemon. You stood there trying to ease the pain in your feet. They didn’t exactly have great shoes in this era and the best you had was some sandals and that wouldn’t be any help. If only a second suitcase had washed up with you as well. Where was that second suitcase anyway or the rest of them? Not only did you have your clothes but some sneakers as well. 
On top of that, your hand ached. You weren’t particularly skilled in punching people. You were running out of tricks to sucker punch this man. He wouldn’t just give up! You raised your hand flipping him off before running off. 
‘Sucker.’
It wasn’t long before you reached your destination. You dug into the pockets of your sweater and pulled a piece of paper and of course your prototypes. That night when you returned from your first-ever dragon ride. You had seen a run-down shop that looked like it was going to go out of business. 
Beggars can’t be choosers and this time, you were no beggar.
You knocked on the door and a rancid-smelling man answered. You gave a mute smile trying to breathe too much.
“M’lady this is a late hour.” The man spoke and once more you fought to make a face. 
“Imma busy woman. This is the only time I have.” You looked inside where his family rested—a poor living space. You purse your lips. “Well? It’s rude to not invite someone in.” 
His wife came quickly behind him. She smiled and immediately you were able to see her poor dental hygiene, but there were slight and subtle changes since the last time you saw her.  “M’lady it is quite the mess inside, but please do come.”
You stepped in and luckily it was only messy, not nasty. “Nonsense. It is homely. The unique quirks and the evidence of family is what makes a house a home.” 
‘Smooth.’ You smiled to yourself. The woman was quick to offer you a chair and you gladly took a seat. You pulled out a paper. A little contact of your making. “I can see you have been using my product?” You smile showing off your pretty teeth. “Your teeth are looking better already.” You hammered it in. You needed this deal to go well. It could spell out riches for you.
“Yes! I have gotten so many compliments on my teeth recently, M'lady. This combined with the mint we already chew, I reckon I’ll have teeth as good as you.” The woman beamed and you grinned. 
“That's the idea. I have better teeth than the King himself.” You leaned over the table covering the side of your mouth. “And between us, some would say even better than the Queen herself.” You grinned once more making sure your pearly whites were on full display. “You have a daughter, yes? Start her young and make sure when her teeth are loose, have her pull them out. Don’t let them layer your teeth like a shark. Follow this and she’ll have better teeth than me and of course, a smile is everything. It can make or break someone. Good teeth are the mark of beauty. A man could be missing an eyebrow but the first thing you will notice is a smile. A smile that could win many high suitors.”
Hook.
The man and woman turned to each other with a look you knew anywhere. “You flatter us m’lady, but our daughter would never wed a lord. We’d have no dowry or lands to give.”
Line.
“With this contract, I assure you, a dowry won’t be a problem.” Once more that look appeared in their eyes. The look of ambition. 
And sinker.
“What do you offer m’lady?” The man asked and you grinned. 
This deal was as good as closed. You slid the contract over with a jar of ink and a pen or a feather. “I’ll go over the details, I wouldn't want to blindside you.” You spend the next hour explaining the details of the contract. It was a five-year contract and if both parties were satisfied then the contract would be extended.  
“Well folks gotta make their livin’ normally I’d give a seventy-thirty, but I like y’all. I give it to you for sixty-five-thirty-five. I get sixty-five percent of all profits and you keep thirty-five percent. Sounds good?” You handed over the pen and then looked at it confused. You purse your lips. What's wrong? You were sure you sold it. Answered all their questions, kept the numbers high, and sweet-talked them. That's how you close a deal. Shame them if they don’t think it’s a good offer. 
“We can’t write.” The woman mumbled out. 
‘Shit.’ Did they even know how to do math right? It all depended on their competence. 
‘Note to self, don’t rely on others for a job well done.’ 
“You can’t do math?” You raised a brow.
“Course we do m’lady. We have a shop, we just never learned to read or write.” You smiled. Good, all that matters is counting coins. 
“Alright, we'll have thumbprints, just like this.” You coated your thumb in the black ink and pressed it on your side of the contract. They both followed. 
“When will we start selling these…what do we call them?” The man asked after wiping his thumb on a cloth. “And how much do we sell them for?” The wife asked her husband. 
“Call them…” A brand name was everything. Miswak wasn’t marketable. Maybe you’d steal names from Crest or Colgate. “This brand will be called…‘Sapwood Smiles’ and calls the brush by brush and of course, the charcoal…call it whiting crest. Your slogan could be ‘Timeless Oral Care for Modern Living’ or maybe ‘Your Natural Smile Solution’ or something catchy.” 
“What is ‘oral?’” The man asked as you took back the paper, rolling it up in your hand.
“Oral means mouth in short terms. Oral health is what makes your mouth healthy. Oh, maybe you can do ‘Oral Care Reimagined, Naturally.’ Natural remedies always appeal to a certain demographic.” You stood up and prepared to leave. After all, you had one more stop to get to. “The shipments will arrive in a week or two. I will personally deliver myself. You will sell the biobrush for one copper star and one groat. The whitening crest or just crest will be sold for two copper Groats and one halfgroat. However, should they purchase two it will be the price for two copper stars. Give them a deal. Save them money. After all, I sympathize with the commons, I myself came from humble beginnings. I know what it is to live at the bottom.” And you also knew that you needed to play just a little dirty to get ahead. 
With that, you nodded and bid them goodbye and once more pulled your cloak in over your head. One last meeting in the Street of Silk. You would bet that this idea would be the real money maker. At least the fastest way you could start making money now. You were sure this would catch fast within the brothels.
“I’m afraid of the rats,” Helaena murmured as you braid small braids in her hair. You both had been talking all morning about anything and everything. Such a barbaric world this girl lived in. 
“The rats?” You question. Aegon had told you about his sister-wife's strange sayings. 
“No one listens. The rats will come bearing a hollow savior.” Helaena continued and you furrowed your brows. Helaena turns to you with a sad smile. “A dawn of gilded skies, a great age shall rise. A betrayal…” She trailed off looking deep into your eyes. Her lilac eyes seemed to drown you. You felt a sharp pain on the sides of your jaw travel to your tear ducts and your waterline began to fill with tears. It’s like she wasn’t even there. As if she weren’t speaking to you. “A betrayal’s kiss shall usher in the forlorn.”
You drowned within her gaze. A deep pain bloomed in your chest as if you were struggling to breathe. As if you were drowning in waters that brought you here. You couldn’t understand why it hurt. It hurt so much and you felt her cold hands on her cheek. 
“If you will deliver us.” Was her final whisper before she stood up leaving you in the room. Tears streamed down your eyes. Only when she left the room did you feel your breath return to you. You bent, gasping as tears fell onto the carpet. What was she talking about? 
It took you quite a while before you were finally able to get your heartbeat under control and your breathing steady. You shook your head before you limped over to the cinnamon brought to you. Deciding it would be best to distract yourself from whatever that was you began melting shavings of soap. Once it has melted you pour it into the warm water that was bought for you. Then you splashed some ale into the cinnamon water mixture. Once that was settled you let it sit while you stretched your calf lightly. 
Wouldn’t want another cramp. 
Aegon was right. His was creepy because what in tarnation was that!? Most importantly, why did you cry? You couldn’t understand what you were seeing but in that moment it felt like you were drowning or something heavy was sitting atop your chest. Thinking back, you swore you heard pleas and what was this whole thing about ‘If you will deliver us?’ You were NOT a godsent nor a prophet. That misunderstanding nearly got you killed on your first day by Daemon. That was the last thing you wanted to be. Too much responsibility entirely. Not to mention you weren’t one for religion. What god exactly would you be receiving prophecies from? The smith? You scoffed out a laugh at the thought.
Religion here wasn’t something you had paid much attention to. The Great Sept of Baelor seems to be like their cathedrals. Perhaps one of these days you should pay a visit to them, see if their artwork compares to that of catholicism, or if there are any similarities with any other religions. 
The Seven represented by a seven-pointed star reminded you of paganism. No doubt the seven would be villainized like the pagans were. Throw in the excuse of the star looking too much like the star of the pagans and of course, there are the ‘seven deadly sins’ otherwise known as the carnal sins. The Seven were called ‘new gods’ and there were also those called the ‘old gods.’ To your understanding, they were the faith established here by the First Men…or was it Rhoynar or maybe the Andals? No, the Andals brought the faith of Seven, right? Then who is Rhoynar? 
What other faiths were there here? In your world, many faiths exist, including Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Judaism just to name a few. From what you can recall the Eastern part of the hemisphere is much more diverse in terms of religion. In the Western part i.e. the Americas, Christianity dominates with its subsections through the continents. Of course, there is Catholicism that dominates both Central and South America, then there is North America with Mormonism, Orthodoxy, and Protestantism. The Eastern part which contains Asia, Africa, Europe, and Oceania, to your knowledge was more diverse. Thought Europe was largely held by Christianity, Italy housed the smallest country in the world inside of Rome; Vatican City was home to the Catholic religion, then the UK held the Church of England, but a majority of Irish are Catholic, then you have Asia which holds many religions but the most prominent are Islam and Buddhism no? Was it Hinduism? 
Either way, you wonder if Essos would be the same. Hosting many different types of religion as opposed to just two. The short amount of time you’ve spent here in the Riverlands you’ve learned that beliefs are separated by region. The North goes by the ‘old ways’ while the South abides by the ‘new gods.’ You’d like to go North one day. You much preferred the cold to the hot and humid South. However, Dragon Stone was nice. A constant breeze was always nice. 
You stood up and limped over to your bowl. You’d have to leave it to sit for another hour or two. That was fine, you couldn’t go out today to find what you needed anyway. Your calf was still pretty sore and you didn’t want to force it. Besides you needed a way to test your little concoction to see if it would work and for that, you need to catch some mosquitoes. Annoying little things. 
Dressing yourself you walk out of your room with a slight limp and a glass jar in your hands. You greeted the Lord Oscar Tully who assigned you a guard as you walked out. You made sure you were covered, even if it meant you’d sweat like crazy in this humid heat. It was fine however, it meant it would attract more pests. You walked out with the knight trailing behind you. You went to sit in a nearby log near still water. That's where mosquito eggs were laid and consequently where you could find the blood-sucking mosquitoes. 
Before you sat down you kicked the log making sure there was nothing in it. After kicking it a few more times and nothing came out you sat down. Slowly you lifted the sleeve of your dress and waited. It was humid and you were sweating quite a bit. It wasn’t long before I heard buzzing. Your head twitched as a response but you sat and waited. 
“My Lady?” The guard questioned. 
“I’m collecting mosquitoes for an experiment. I do hate these things, if all goes well, trust me, you’ll love me. These things can spread diseases, you know? I’d rather not catch any when I go out tomorrow, that means not being bit by these little bloodsuckers.” You explained that the mosquitos landed and you swept them up putting them in the jar.
You could feel the judgment radiating off the man. Oh well. You could make a fortune out of this. You needed the money and of course, there wouldn’t be any generated until next week. You had to pick up the shipment of miswak from the ships and had to grate charcoal. Once you had the money you’d generate jobs as well. Now that King Viserys was going back into politics before you’d make Rhaenyra queen you had to stabilize yourself first. The King seemed to like you a lot better than his younger brother and his daughter did. 
Of course, once the ‘truth’ about Rhaenrya’s children was out your protection from anyone would fly out the window due to you being of no use to Alicent and Otto. Speaking of Alicent ever since those rumors about you spread well she hasn’t been as inviting as she once was. Your time was running out and if you didn’t play your cards right, the rope would be cut and the guillotine blade would fall on your neck. 
King Viserys was your best option to solidify yourself. You need to make yourself invaluable and of course, do a little PR. If your head would be cut off, then you would need riots in the streets. That started with giving the people basic human necessities which was easy enough. They lived like trash. 
As you continued to catch mosquitos you racked your brain. A swear system would be nice. Certainly would be great for your nose. How you hated the smell of King’s Landing. You could smell the shit from five miles away. Not to mention it would get rid of that awful chamber pot. You hated using that thing. It was times like that made you miss the modern world.
Actually, everything makes you miss the modern world. It was torture living here. What you wouldn’t give for a nice hot shower, bug spray, air freshener, cars, trains, electricity, AC, the internet, or really anything from your time. How did the water system work? How did the plumbing system work? Speaking of which, you needed to develop a better water filter, which was easy enough. You already had a concept in your mind. 
You looked into the jar and decided that was enough. Capping it you stood up and walked back. 
“What are you going to do with them, my lady?” The guard asked as you both walked back towards the castle. 
“Test a bug-repellent spray.” You said you were uninterested as ideas ran in your head of how to solidify your position before you installed Rhaenyra as queen.
“How would that work?” He asked in a small mumble as if embarrassed to be asking. A smile bloomed on your face. How you loved explaining things. 
“Hurry on inside and I’ll show you!” You grinned at the man as you both began walking inside with haste. 
Once you both were inside you sat down on the nearest chair and sat down the jar. You then sent a maid to fetch your bowl of cinnamon water. 
“Okay, I want you to watch.” You put your hand over the jar holding it there. “Mosquitoes use three ways to locate prey. Mosquitoes, the females in particular, have a great sense of smell and that’s because only they suck blood. That is how they produce eggs, males on the other hand only feed off fruit because their needle-like proboscis isn’t strong or sharp enough to pierce human skin like the female is.” You grin up at the man and the other who had come along.
“Pretty interesting isn’t it? When they are near you they can smell the sweat or more specifically certain compounds within your sweat that you emit which draws them in. Next is the carbon dioxide you exhale.” You looked up and gave a big inhale. “We inhale oxygen.” Then you exhaled. “And exhale carbon dioxide.” You smiled up towards the guards who gave a nod simply agreeing with what you said. “Finally, what I think is most cool and what you’re going to see right now, is that they can sense body heat. Look.” You took your hand away and where your hand was resting were mosquitoes.
The guards let out a sound of amusement looking at the jar and seeing how the mosquitoes lined the imprint of your hand. “Because of the strong sense of smell, one can exploit that, and theoretically, make it a weakness. See if I opened this jar and placed my hand above the assumption that they would feast on my palm, but…” The maid returned with your bowl and you wet the palm of your hand. Then you twist open the lid placing your soaked hand. “With this, it produced a strong smell that in turn disoriented them thus repelling them.” You placed your hand and just as you predicted they did not get near you much less try to feast. 
More sounds of amusement sounded throughout the hall. Quiet the crowd you had, including the Lord Oscar Tully and Helaena who had curious eyes yet laced with something else. You looked away from her. “Now to show they would take the opportunity to eat I’m going to let them try to eat on my other palm which is not coated with my formula.” You capped the jaw and let the mosquitoes reorient themselves before you offered your other palm and they saw as they went to feed on you. Before they bit you took your hand away. No chances were going to be taken.
“What is this ‘formula?’” The Lord asked and you turned to him. You had two choices. One: You could sell the formula and make a quick buck or two: You could do some charity. A good image here would be good. The Riverlands are in the middle of everything. The word would spread. You needed a good reputation, only now did you realize you needed one everywhere, not just in King’s Landing. 
You smiled as you announced the name of your formula. Of course, you named it after yourself. You will be known throughout all the lands of Westeros.
“No more freaky tellings, yes?” You asked Helaena cautiously as you rubbed your formula all over your legs and arms. While Helaena did look a bit dejected she nodded as she too rubbed your formula over herself. “Okay then, let’s find that plant!”
“Five shadows shall creep across the age of light…seeds of-.” You heard Helaena mumble as you both walked into the forest. A sudden weight on your chest began to press down.
“Helaena!” You called her and she looked at you with innocent eyes. “Stop. Listen.” You stopped and a serious facial expression overtook your face. “I don't know what you’re saying and it’s not that I don’t want to listen, but it makes me…deeply uncomfortable and brings up memories I’d rather not remember. Please, stop it.” 
You watched Helaena blink and nod before turning away. Great. Now you feel bad, but it had to be done. You walked cautiously about the surrounding green. This was taking forever and you just wanted to go back to King’s Landing where it wasn’t as humid and your fan was constantly on. 
“What are you looking for, my lady?” The same guard from two days ago asked. Both you and Helaena had taken a guard whilst you went to search for your plant, though after you had told her to stop Helaena had left elsewhere. Hopefully not too far. The last thing you needed was a lost princess. 
You continued to walk forward looking around. “It is a bushy annual plant, ranging from 1 to 6 feet tall, depending on the variety and growing conditions. It has a central stalk from which multiple branches emerge, creating a symmetrical shape.” You moved a branch out of the way avoiding the vines. “Its leaves have serrated edges and are deeply lobed, usually with 5 to 9 narrow, pointed leaflets radiating from a central point. The color ranges from light to deep green, occasionally with purple or reddish hues under certain conditions.”
A breeze hit you and you picked up a familiar scent. You smiled as you went forward trying to catch the smell again. “The leaf and stem itself are often sticky. Then of course there are the flowers it has. The flower produces clusters of small, dense flowers in the female plants.” You spoke and a light green color caught your eye. 
“Plants can be male or female?” The guard asked, confused, chasing after you. 
“Not exactly. Plants can have male and female genitalia. Some can even change their gender and can self-pollinate creating exact copies of themselves, while others rely on pollinators such as bees or hummingbirds just to name some.” You saw Helaena playing with a spider that was entirely too big for your comfort. You grimaced watching the spider crawl on her hand. “Come on Helaena, it could bite you.” 
You saw her look up and nod before releasing the spider.
Ew. 
You smiled and dragged her along. If you found this plant, it would be gold. “Pollinators?” You heard the guard murmur as you felt another breeze and once more there was that scent. You were grinning from ear to ear barely suppressing your smile.
You broke through a treeline and there it was.
“What is that?” Helaena asked. 
You walked to the tall plant taking a bud and inhaling that unmistakable scent. 
“Yerba Buena.”
Tumblr media
Note: And the plot finally begins. Pls talk to me! Let me know your thoughts! Also I can confirm that hiding behind a wall then surprise attacking them with a punch does work! But it hurts if you don't know how to punch right.
Tumblr media
Previous I Next I Masterlist
Tumblr media
To be added to Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑
Tumblr media
226 notes · View notes
oneminutefiftysixseconds · 5 months ago
Text
funnily enough i spent the protest delay of the 2023 men's WC RR reading about him: Rien Schuurhuis (photographed here by Ivan Sommonte)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
he's represented the Holy See at the 2022 and 2023 Men's world championships (DNFing both races) after Athletica Vaticana became the 200th national federation to join the UCI in 2021
born in Groningen, NL, competing twice in the Dutch men's national championships and riding for Conti teams in 2016 and 2018, Schuurhuis changed his sporting nationality in 2021 to that of the Vatican – membership of Athletica Vaticana is open to all Vatican residents, employees, and their immediate families; his wife works at the Australian embassy. Schuurhuis described going to Wollongong like “visiting his second home” – here he is with loulou, remco, and David Lappartient!
Tumblr media
expecting another DNF but it is always entertaining for the commentators to talk about the lone Vatican rider
the vatican??? is sending a rider to the european champs?
24 notes · View notes
lilbitdepressed27 · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader
Summary:blind reader in this one Gale didn't write bad about Sam.
Warnings:…😶
WC: 5.7k
Author’s Note: happy new year y’all. Hope everyone had a good year. Also apologizes in advance for this one. Hope y’all enjoy:D
****~****
After high school you had known that the college life was also going to be hard. It took you forever to know the halls, turns and where your classes were at. It helped that you had your service dog, Scooby. According to your adoptive mom, he was a brown Chesapeake Bay Retriever. Now you had no idea what they looked like but you are positive he was cute. People always tended to gush about him where ever you took him. He had been a great help for you as you adjusted in this new city.
Your mom had been skeptical at first but she knew she had to let you go. She was very protective of you especially after your father was killed. You had been away on a school trip with your class when it had happened. You had only found out about it two days after when your mom personally came to get you from the trip. The trip had been in Alaska, it was supposed to be a two month trip but due to the attacks it was cut short.
The news had devastated you. Especially since you didn't know about it right away, cause of the no cell reception. So it was harder for your mom to reach you. You and your mother had cried for days.
She didn't know how she'd be able to let you move to New York by yourself with Scooby. She wouldn't be able to move on if she lost you or Scooby. She loved that dog, he was such a good boy. They had trained him on some simple commands to help you.
Dewey had helped you teach Scooby the commands.
So with that fear in mind, not only did she move to the city herself, she didn't have it in her to let you leave and live by yourself. But she also had called someone she hasn't spoken to as much as she wanted.
"Gale? Hey it's been awhile."
"Hello Sam, how's it going?"
"Uh pretty good we're settled in and you know Tara's worried about starting school again, she says she's not nervous but I can tell she is. How are you holding up, since you know..."
"Oh you know I'm hanging in there. I was actually calling to ask you for a favor. I completely understand if you can't. I know trust goes a long way for you."
"Gale relax, if it wasn't for you, people would still be dragging my name through the mud. What can I help you with?"
Gale leaned back in her desk chair. She tried so hard to make sure you had stayed out of her life as a reporter. Keeping you a secret from the world was surprisingly easy. Especially if there was crazy psycho trying remake a movie. Dewey and herself had agreed to keeping you a secret. Adopting you was one of her greatest things she could have done.  She remembers the day she first saw you, it was a couple months after she found out that she couldn't have kids. Dewey had tried to tell her that it was okay, that they didn't need a kid to be a happy family. But she knew better, they both had wanted a baby in the family.
So they went to a foster home. And that's where they found you, a tiny little girl. You were only baby, a year old to be exact when they saw you walking around crashing into things, walking into walls. They had watched how the other older kids would ignore you. You would babble to get anyone's attention but you'd be ignored. After crashing into a wall once again, they watched how you stood back up with a smile on your face. You had a small ball in your hands but no one to play with. They didn't understand why, until you got closer. Stumbling here and there.
Your soft y/ec eyes had clear white spots in them. Even though they were warned about you, they had fallen in love with you the moment they saw you.
"I have a daughter."
"Oh what? Wow uh congratulations?"
"No I've had her for a while, she's 19." She knew Sam probably didn't believe her.
"Really? Why are you telling me this?"
Gale heard the confusion, but she couldn't follow you every where. So she needed someone to keep an eye on you. Just a safety precaution. Something that could help her keep calm. Making friends was something that didn't come easy for you. Even though you're a bright and happy kid, other people weren't. It never affected you though. Your smile always stayed. 'Life is too short for me to be butt hurt that people don't want to be my friend, I'll be fine mom.' Was something you always said.
"She has this, thing. And I was just hoping you'd kinda just be there for her. She doesn't make friends easily and I know I'm asking a lot but—Gale relax. What's her name?"
~~~~~~******~~~~~~
The day had come. You had recently moved into the studio room with the help of your mom. She had helped remind you where everything was at. Making sure you knew every corner, step, counter in the apartment. It took a while but you got it. Now you could do somethings by yourself. Like bathe (obviously), get yourself dressed (your wardrobe was filled with mostly black clothing), colored clothing was in a different drawer, cook (pb&j's, cup noddle soup, wash dishes) You weren't completely helpless. A life without vision was something you were used to.
"Okay Scooby, how do I lo-" Your phone rang, cutting you off. You turned to the direction of the phone, hearing the nails scrapes of your dog. The phone ring getting closer. You felt the nudge on your knee. Reaching down feeling the cold nose of your dog, taking the phone from him. Siri had been notifying you of who was calling. "Thanks buddy."
"Hi mom."
"Hey honey, listen I called a friend of mine her name is Sam and she's on her way to take you to class-Moom-I know I know but please just give your lady a piece of mind. I swear I'm getting more grey hair. Just please do it for me."
You sighed and nodded. "Okay mom. When is she co-" The sound of the door bell rang throughout the studio. "I thinks she's here."
***
"Wait since when does Gale have a daughter?" Tara asked confused. She had over heard Sam's call with Gale and had wanted to help Gale's daughter. Especially since they'd be going to the same college.
"I don't know, she has a daughter that's your age, lives alone with a dog, apparently doesn't know anyone here cause she just moved here and her name is Y/n. We are going to go pick her up tomorrow."
"Damn. Gale weathers kept her daughter a secret?" The younger carpenter sibling said amazed. She would have never guessed that Gale had a daughter. She had started to wonder what the girl looked like.
Now that she was kept waiting, she was left feeling just a tad bit excited to meet the girl. She wondered if she was like more like Gale or Dewey. Probably a mix of both.
*
"Who's there." Your hand felt around for the button next to the door. It was intercom that your mom had paid to get installed. It was the best tech that your mom could possibly find.
"Hi Y/n it's Sam, Gale sent me."
"Mom I thinks she's here, uh how do I know I can trus-You can honey, trust me. Sam is a good one."
"Okay. I love you." Your mom returned the term of endearment before hanging up. Your hands felt around for the locks on the door. Unlocking all ten of them. Once finished you opened the door.
Sam stood on the other side, her eyes widening just a bit at the sight of your eyes. Now she understood why Gale wanted someone to watch over you. Tara stood behind her sister, jaw slack as she took you in as well. She had never seen someone so beautiful. She took in your smile as you let Sam in offering your hand that Sam shook. She walked close behind her sister as she watched one of cutest dogs she's ever seen close the door behind her. Her eyes looked into yours. Most of your eye color was covered with a cloudy white color. There was still some color in there but not as much. They were still the most beautiful pair of eyes she has ever seen.
"And you are?" The question was directed to her. It was what snapped her out of her thoughts. Her face felt flushed and warm as you looked in her direction.
You had heard the other set of footsteps when you let Sam in. You could smell the different perfume the person used. It was a smell you liked, never had you smelled something so, beautiful? The person stopped in front of you. You offered a smile and held a hand out.
"T-Tara. I'm Tara Sam's sister." Tara ignored the raised eyebrow directed towards her by her sister. Her face felling hot as she shook your hand. Your hand was much bigger than hers but it was so soft and warm. She wanted to hold on to it forever.
Your ears felt blessed as you took in her voice. It was the most beautiful voice you had ever heard.
"Nice to meet you Tara. This is Scooby. I'm sorry if my mom made you guys co-Hey now we wanted to, now are you ready?" Tara reassured. She didn't want you feeling like they didn't have a choice in the matter. Tara had never been so grateful that Gale trusted them in meeting her daughter. Cause you had to be one of the most beautiful woman she's ever seen.
"Uh yea. I just need my walking stick and my backpack."
At the mention of the backpack the two sisters watched as the dog scurried away towards the living room. Retrieving your backpack from the small coffee table. He had already had his service vest on and he was ready to go. With a smile on your face you took the backpack that had your walking stick. You moved to take it out but a warm hand stopped you.
"I got you, you can hold my elbow." Tara with a blush on as you took her elbow with a smile. She ignored the pointed look from her sister once again. She felt warm all over at the feeling of your soft hand touching her skin. She lead you out the apartment while Sam locked up.
Sam watched how Tara directed where each step was at. Telling you where exactly was the button to call the elevator. Although Sam felt like you already knew where it was at. She watched as you smiled and followed Tara nevertheless. Right before leaving the apartment you had reached for your sunglasses. Covering your eyes, she saw the disappointment in her sister's eyes the second it happened.
Sam couldn't help the small smile, Tara had been different since last year's attacks. But seeing that smile on her face while she spoke to you was something she hoped to see more.
*
"Okay here's your music class." Tara directed you into the class, there were already some students in the class waiting for the professor to arrive. "Do you wanna sit in the front?" She touched your hand that was still holding the inside of her elbow. She looked up at you, your soft smile on display as you looked down in her direction. Seeing her reflection on your sunglasses. She wished she could see your eyes again.
"Yes please, thank you Tara. I really appreciate you helping me."
The smile she got in return felt like a reward, seeing such a beautiful smile directed her way had Tara feeing like she could just melt to the floor.
"I wanted to. Now here's your recorder, your mom said you like to go back and listen to the lessons. Here, it's the professors textbook she's using this year." Before getting to the class, they had stopped by the library. When she saw the classes you were taking, they took a little detour. Grabbing the textbooks she knew would benefit you more.
"Thank you Tara but I can't exactly see." You said with a teasing smile. Feeling her cheeks warming up, she couldn't help the chuckle that left her lips.
"I know that, but this one you'll like better. I'll see you two after class. Bye." She smiled down at Scooby who had sat on the seat right next to yours, laying his head down on the arm rest.
"We'll see you later, thanks again Tara." You smiled up towards the direction you knew she was standing at. Your heart skipping at beat when you felt her warm hand on top of yours.
"You're welcome. Now I really have to go or else I'll be late to my class."
She left the room soon after. You smiled to yourself. Remembering to call your mom to thank her. Tara sounded so...beautiful. You may be blind but just by her voice you knew she was beautiful. Tara will be a great friend to have around.
Hearing the professor walk in and announce the beginning of his lecture you hit record on your recorder. Taking the book that Tara had gotten for you. Your breath hitching in your throat when your fingers felt over the cover. It was a braille version of the textbook. Your mom had told you that they didn't have braille books for the music course you were taking. But here it was. Noted that it did feel old but nevertheless it was a book you could read. Feeling your eyes watering a bit, no one had been this nice to you, that wasn't family. To go out of their way to do something so kind. Yet Tara did.
Scooby laid his head on your arm. You smiled down at him petting his head. Maybe making friends here wouldn't be so hard.
*
The weeks that followed had been great for Tara. She had spent most of her days with you. Or you with her at her apartment with the rest of the gang. You and Scooby have become such a great addition to the group. Having you around the apartment had been something that she loved to see.
Since you had been her friend the amount of frat parties she had gone to have been minimum. Choosing to rather be with you and Scooby either at your apartment or hers.
Something that Sam had liked.
Sam had seen the bond between her sister and you grow. The way you with out trying brought out the girl Sam had left behind five years ago. The way Tara was around you was of someone that had no worries. Someone that hadn't gone through almost getting killed. Someone who hadn't been betrayed by someone she loved. Someone who had to kill the one she considered a lover.
Sam could also see how you were around her sister. Tara hadn't been the only one to grow attached. Seeing the way you were around Tara was almost comical. Seeing you both dance around each others feelings was funny. Sam had taken to talking to Gale more often. Telling her about how you were doing. But also about how they were doing as well. The bond between Sam and Gale had grown.
"Hey Sam, how was work?"
She had just gotten back from work to find you and Scooby sitting on the floor of the living room. The way you could just tell who the person was, just by their footsteps was something that Sam had found impressive. She had seen how Chad had tried to sneak up on you but you would always greet him before he had the chance.
"Hey Y/n, it was good what are you guys doing? Where's Tara?"
"Well I'm helping Tara with her homework, well the best I can anyway. And she's in the bathroom." You smiled in the direction of where Sam stood.
"That's good. Any one at school giving you trouble?" Sam had been told by not only the twins but also her sister how they had found a group of frat boys picking on you. Scooby had tried his best to comfort you, not only was he there to help you but he was also there to protect you. Sam had been told by Tara how they had arrived in time to see Scooby biting one of the frat boys. The one that had taken your mobility cane.
"No Scooby scares them away. That or Tara does." You joked earning a laugh from the older Carpenter.
"Good, you know if anyone is bothering you, you can tell me." Sam had been told by your mom how you used to get bullied in high school. You were a sweet kid that didn't deserve to be mistreated. It wouldn't be the first time she had scared someone just for looking at you wrong.
"I know. Thanks Sam."
"You're welcome, now I'm making dinner. Spaghetti and meatballs sound good."
"Sounds great."
*
You were laid on Tara's bed watching a movie you had never heard of. It was one of Tara's favorite movies. The Babadook. You weren't really into scary movies. You had loved hearing the movies your dad watched. The Marvel movies. Daredevil had always been your favorite. For obvious reasons of course. To be blind and still be able to kick ass. Now that was awesome.
But nevertheless Tara had wanted to see the movie, so now you were here. Tara laying her head on your chest as she watched her movie. You were listening in as well. Jumping a bit when a suspenseful scene happened. You didn't see it but from the music and sound effects, not to mention the tv was a bit loud.
But the more you laid there. The more you got lost. The warmth of Tara's body pressing on to you. The feeling of her head laying right above your heart. The way her hand was on your stomach, her fingers softly creasing your stomach. It was sending the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Her legs were intertwined with yours. Your arm was also wrapped around her back holding her into place.
You weren't sure what this meant. Seeing as you never really had friends. Or cuddled with anyone. This was something you've never done before. You didn't want to over think anything. Make things weird. So you just laid there. Hoping Tara could feel what you felt. You'd ask but you didn't want to lose this friendship. You didn't want to jeopardize losing Tara.
"I can feel you thinking. What's on your mind?" Tara paused the movie to look up at you. Her chin still on your chest as you looked at you. Your glasses were off, the fairly lights, and the lights coming from the tv made your eyes shine. The small patched of y/ec were noticeable. Your eyes were something she loved to look at. They were like clouds with a bit of color in them. Her fingers came up to your cheek on their own accord. Softly creasing the smooth skin of your cheek. Her smile widening when you leaned into her palm.
"Nothi-Liar. I don't know if you know this but, when something is bothering you or you're thinking too hard. You get this cute little crinkle right here." With a finger she touched in between your eyebrows. Laughing when you were quick to make said crinkle go away. "Now come on tell me."
"Uh I like someone."
Tara felt herself tense, her smile quickly falling from her face. She sat up away from your warmth. Her heart breaking at the thought of you with someone else. Someone getting to lay with you like she had been doing. Someone else being able to get to kiss you. Or seeing you vulnerable like how she's seen you.
"That's-That's..who? Do I know them?" She had hoped her voice didn't come off like she wanted to cry. Cause she could feel the tears building up.
"Yea. You do. It's Sam."
The way her jaw dropped, part of her not believing what she was hearing. You liked Sam?! Samantha!! Her sister?! The ache in her heart grew ten fold. The tears escaped her eyes and she was quick to wipe them away.
"I'm just kidding. It's not Sam. It's you. I like you."
Tara didn't know whether to punch you or kiss you. So she punched your arm. "You asshole." The punch was quickly followed with a kiss. The feeling of her lips on yours was everything she had dreamed of.
"Were you crying?" You reluctantly pulled away when you felt her wet cheeks.
"Duh! I thought you confessing your love to my, sister! You're an asshole for that and I'll never forgive you." Even though the scare was still there. Your teasing smile had her smiling as well.
"I'm sorry. What can I do for you to forgive me." You brought your hands up, cupping her cheeks. You could feel her smile, the dimples that had been your favorite to feel. Her soft skin was so warm.
"Mmh, go on date with me."
"Aw man. I wanted to be the one to ask."
Tara smiled at the sight of your pout. She chuckled, she no longer felt the heart ache. No. She felt like she could kiss you again. And again. And again. The love she felt in her chest felt so strong. Something she never felt before. Not even with...Amber. Amber had made feel something. There was doubt in that. But nothing like this.
"So is that a yes?"
"Of course it's a yes."
*
You sat in one of tables in the quad. Scooby sat by your side. It wouldn't be long till Tara and Mindy came out of their last class of the day. It had been a month since your date with Tara. A month since you started dating Tara. Just the thought of your girlfriend was enough to have you smiling.
At hearing the familiar footsteps you straighten up. By the way they slowed down you knew she was trying to sneak up on you, so you let her. You felt her soft lips on your cheek.
"Hey baby." Tara had missed you(although she had seen you two hours ago when she walked you to your class) she couldn't help it. To be able to kiss you when ever she wanted, it was something she loved to do. Having you blush every time she kissed you. It was a sight she aimed to see every single hour of the day. Pecking your lips before greeting Scooby (who was happy to see her). "Hello there buddy, are you protecting our girl huh. Anyone bother her?"
"No one bothered me. Where's Mindy?" Feeling her warmth as she sat next to you. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder bringing her closer. You felt her get closer kissing what you thought was her temple but ended up being the corner of her eyes. "Oops sorry." Hearing her giggle was like a blessing to your ears. She cupped your cheeks guiding your lips to hers into a gentle kiss.
"Mmh it's okay. And she's with Anika. Chad's with Ethan doing who knows what. It's just you and me babe-*BARK*-And Scooby of course." Tara chuckled at the interruption.
"Maybe we could have a date ni-Guys! There's a party going down today and we have been invited." Quinn had said with excitement, you Tara had loved to party. It wasn't anything new. Yes, most times she blew off a party to be with you. You had loved every moment you had with Tara. But the thought of her holding back on having fun was something that began to make you feel, guilty?
"Uh I'm not sure-Oh come on Tara. Y/n tell Tara to have some fun."
With those thoughts in mind. You  looked in the direction of your girlfriend. "Yea go have fun babe."
"But what-It's okay. I'm going to be on the phone with my mom most of the night. Go. Have fun. You can call me after."
"Fine, ugh okay. But I'll be in your apartment right after. Okay?" A part of Tara didn't even want to go. She had wanted to go back to your apartment and just relax.
She'd only stay at the party for an hour or two and then she'll go to yours.
*
You had just finished making yourself a cup noddle soup. Moving in the kitchen had been relatively easy for you. You had gotten used to everything in your apartment. Making the soup was easy. Especially when you did it the lazy way. (Water in the cup and then in the microwave). You weren't supposed to but it was much faster that way.
At sound of Scooby barking had you turning to face the noise. "Scooby?" Your hand held on to the counter. Using it to guide you to the noise.
"Here boy."
You heard him growl, you with your hand moving from the kitchen counter to the wall leading to the supply closet. Then you felt Scooby biting your pants leg. Trying lead you away from the door.
"What's wrong-" The force of a being tackled had your sentence cut short. With the sudden weight, weighing you down. The sudden pain of what you assumed was a knife coming down on your shoulder had you screaming. The scream of pain was followed by the yelp of the person.
Scooby had beaten into the arm of the attacker. But a dog wasn't going to stop the attacker. No. He had came prepared. Wearing a material that can withstand a bite from a dog. Killing you was going to be easy. Gutting the dog was something he had been looking forward to. Stabbing the dog, the yelp of pain the dog let out.
"No!" You sobbed out. You couldn't lose him. You felt around for something, anything you could use to help Scooby. Your fingers connected with something solid, it was Chad's baseball bat. You gripped and swung it as hard as you could. You felt the moment the hard bat connected to the attacker. You heard the moment they dropped Scooby. More sobs escaping your lips as you failed to hear any noise coming from Scooby.
"Oh Y/n, you've missed out quite a bit. But let me catch you up to speed."
You're breathing was heavy, feeling like you couldn't catch your breath with how much you were crying. The pain you felt as the knife was brought down into your chest, the pain was too much. You tried to fight back. Your hand holding the knife, you ears finally picked up the faint whimpering of Scooby. He was dying and you couldn't do anything to help him.
"Alexa call Tara."
"Calling Tara."
"No-" A hand covered your mouth as you tried to fight him off. But you could feel your energy fading. You had lost count on how many times you had been stabbed. You didn't want Tara to hear you dying. You didn't-
"Hey baby-Would you relax Sam it's Y/n." Hearing her voice sounded so relieved. Your felt your tears escaping at a rapid pace. Your tears rolling down the side of your face into your ears.
"Babe?"
"Hello Tara."
*
"Hello Tara."
The voice had her freezing in her steps. The dread overwhelmed her in waves. No it couldn't. He couldn't be back. With you. You were vulnerable. Scooby could only do so much. Feeling Sam behind her as she bolted. Sam close behind her.
"Tara wait! What's wrong?"
"Don't worry Tara. She won't go alone."
*
Nothing could have prepared her for when she opened your door. There was no noise. Not the tv playing your favorite show, not the scabbing of nails coming to greet her. Not your voice calling out to her with a beaming smile.
No.
What greeted her was the sight of Scooby laying in pool a blood. He was unmoving. His eyes wide with no life in them. Her hand shook as she raised it to her mouth. The sob escaped her lips when she saw who was laying unconscious not too far from Scooby.
“No. No. No. Please god no.” Her vision became a tunnel vision. The only thing she could see was your stiff body. “Y/n?” Your eyes were open but unblinking. The same as your dog. No life in them. Her chest stuttered to get some air in. The sobs that racked her body as she pulled you closer. Your body was no longer warm. It had turned cold.
“No. Come on Y/n. Please. Please don’t leave me. You can’t. You can’t.” The ache in her chest had also started in her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. The pain she felt at seeing no life in your eyes. Your beautiful cloudy y/ec eyes held no life.
“Sam help me! Help me please! Scooby needs help to Y/n-she needs him. She can’t lose him. Please. Pl-please.” She held your limp body closer to her. Wishing that this was just a horrible nightmare. Wishing that she’d wake up and that you’d be right next to her.
But you stayed still. Your body stayed cold.
Tara gasped awake, her eyes frantically looking around the room. She was in her own room. But you weren’t there. The panic grew. The dread growing when she didn’t find you. She reached for her phone calling you. But the more she went without hearing your voice. The more the fear grew. She was out of her bed in no time. In a rush to find you.
It couldn’t be true.
But it felt so real.
When you weren’t in the kitchen, she had to find you. Your apartment is where she’d find you. You had to be there. You just had to.
The force of knocking into someone had been so sudden that she had almost knocked the person over. Had the person not been prepared.
“Wow Tara trying to tackle a blind person are ya?”
The sound of your voice had her already blood shut eyes widening before she let out a relieved sob as she fell into your arms. As she buried her face into your chest holding you tight. The nightmare had felt so real. The pain of losing you had felt so real. Your de- your body she had felt it.
“Talk to me Tara? What’s wrong?” You were worried. Never had you heard Tara crying like this. You had texted her last night but Anika had responded saying Tara drank a bit too much and was taken home late into the night. So you had gone to bed with the plan of going to Tara’s in the morning hoping you could make her hangover a bit better.
“Tara breath for me baby.” The concern grew as you felt her breathing become more erratic. You tried your best to lead her inside without tripping shutting the door behind you. Locking as many locks as you could. Scooby followed close behind. Also worried for the shorter girl.
When your fingers finally touched the couch you sat her down but she refused to let you go. You wanted to know what had caused her to act like this.
You dug into your bag, fingers grazing items you did not need. Once you found what you needed you took it out. “Come on Tar, use your inhaler. Breath for me baby. I’m right here.”
Once she had her breathing under control. You leaned back into the couch. Pulling Tara on your lap and holding her close to you. You weren’t sure what was wrong but it was clear that she needed comforting. Scooby also jumping on to the couch. His head laying into the space of the couch and you and Tara. Trying his best to comfort the girl.
“I had a bad dream. It felt so real. So fucking real. Everything. From the way you act, talk. Even when you use the microwave to heat up your cup noddle soups. Even when I tell you not to do that. Ghostface attacked you and Scooby. You both didn’t make it. Fuck it felt so real. And when I woke up I felt so confused and-when I didn’t see you, the fear grew. I couldn’t tell if the dream was real or not. I can’t lose you Y/n. I just can’t. I don’t think I’ll be able to live without you.” Tara felt herself wanting to cry again.
“I’m right here. I know I can’t necessarily promise you that nothing will happen to me. But I sure as hell can promise you that I’ll try my very best to always return to you.” You kissed the side of her face. What ended being her ear.
“I know, I’m sorry I freaked out on you.” She mumbled into your neck. Her grip on you never loosened up. Not that you were complaining.
“Don’t be. Plus I’m not that helpless. Daredevil isn’t my favorite marvel character for no reason.” You joked hoping you could get a laugh or smile from her. From the sound of her chuckle you knew you had succeeded.
“Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”
With a kiss on your lips, you could still feel her lips trembling just a bit. You wanted her to feel safe. To feel sure.
“I love you Y/n.” To have you laying here with her. It was enough for to calm down just a bit. To have Scooby also here was just enough for her to finally accept that it was just a nightmare.
“I love you to Tara.”
:)
479 notes · View notes
alexbkrieger13 · 10 months ago
Note
A great article :)
https://twitter.com/bentclausendbu/status/1777993640264004034
For Pernille Harder, there is something that must be fulfilled before she ends her career
Pernille Harder is approaching 150 games for the Danish women's national football team.
Tumblr media
Pernille Harder clearly remembers how nervous she was.
How the team manager tried to calm her down on a walk, telling her to just enjoy the game, and what she thought of the team manager's words:
- Well, I thought. I will probably try that, but I was extremely nervous.
But as soon as she was on the field, the nervousness disappeared. Just 16 years old, she scored a hat-trick on her debut in Denmark's 15-0 win over Georgia in 2009.
On Tuesday evening, Pernille Harder can complete 150 international matches when Denmark faces an important European Championship qualifier against Belgium at the Viborg Stadium.
- That says something about how long I have actually been in the national team. Obviously, there's a pride in that for me.
For Pernille Harder, there is something that is important for her to be able to sign when she one day chooses to end her career.
A changing role
Almost from the beginning, a great responsibility rested on Pernille Harder's shoulders, and already at the age of 23 she was appointed captain of the national team.
- It was my action on the pitch that made me captain then. I have developed the role of captain off the pitch over the years, says Pernille Harder.
Tumblr media
- I have become wiser about ups and downs because I have been through it all.
- Now I am in a position where I can understand what it is that others are going through. When you can understand it, it is clear that it is significantly easier to help.
Because although Pernille Harder has always had a strong mentality, there was a time in her career when she was overwhelmed and had to change a particular pattern in her behavior.
The showdown with a pattern
There was no time to stop and digest. As soon as she had achieved something, she had to achieve something new. There was no peace.
- When I became Europe's best, I thought 'yes, that was great', but now I also have to move on, instead of being in it and just patting myself on the back. I was very striving in that I wanted something all the time.
The time when it first dawned on her that she had to change her behavior was in connection with the move to the big club Chelsea.
- There were automatically some expectations because I had become Europe's best for the second time, and I had been sold as the most expensive female footballer in the world.
Tumblr media
Therefore, she herself sought out a teacher in mindfulness, a method to strengthen her mental health through meditation, among other things, which helped her through the period, and which she has also drawn on during the past year and a half with injuries.
- I just needed to learn to be in the present, regardless of what is happening around me, says Pernille Harder and acknowledges that it is easier said than done.
- But it is something that I train on all the time. Because it's still not something I've mastered at all.
The important landmark
A certain satisfaction she may agree to acknowledge that she has after all, when she looks back at her 150 matches for the national team, her eight hat-tricks and her titles as Europe's - and the world's - best female footballer.
- But I don't want to say that I have reached a point of saturation, interjects Pernille Harder.
- Of course there is satisfaction in relation to what I have achieved. But it's more because it gives me some kind of peace. That doesn't mean I don't want more than that.
Tumblr media
- It could be great to experience one more EC and WC, and then we'll have to see how old I feel after the final rounds.
- As long as I think it's fun, as long as my body thinks it's fun, then I want to keep going. So it's not like I've set an end date, says Pernille Harder.
But there is still something that is important for her to know when the day comes and the end of her career becomes a reality.
- When one day I stop, it is important for me to know that I have done everything I could to become as skilled as possible and win as much as possible.
25 notes · View notes
echoes-in-echoclan · 11 months ago
Text
So a few close friends and I made a fun little fanclan project and I thought I'd share it here now that it has an official tumblr!
Meet YeeyeeClan, the rootinest tootinest cowboy cats this side of the Mississippi. If you can stand the over the top accents, ridiculous cat drama, and side splittin' names then you've come to the right place!
We'll be posting art/refs every day until we run out, and we're answering asks in between! All my friends are such talented artists and storytellers and we can't wait to share our week-long obsession with y'all!
Tumblr media
Well just call me a jackrabbit and stick me in a dog pen 'cause I'm JUMPIN' outta my skin to be postin' the first official YeeyeeClan ref! We're beginnin' here with the good leader of YeeyeeClan, Rattlestar, but 'fore I tell you 'bout him why don't I tell ya a little bit about YeeyeeClan itself... As you might'a guessed already, YeeyeeClan started as a joke among some cat lovin' artists, but boy howdy those little critters crawled right into our hearts faster than a rattle and a bite. Now I'd rightly say you should expect more jokin' type happenin' than anything else, but you better keep yer overalls fastened for when we drop some angst and backstory outta the big blue yonder. For now, you can 'xpect a whole lotta refs as we get you 'customed to all our cats, but yer more than welcome to ask 'em or us a question, and we'll do our best to draw you up a right charmin' response! But back to our good feller Rattlestar, YeeyeeClans current leader. Ol' Rattlestars a cantankerous ol' coot, but he loves his clan more than anyone else in it. And don't let that mean face scare ya off, he'll talk both your ears off an' tell you just about everythin' excitin' that's happened in Yeeyeeclan since 'fore theses prairies existed. -🎩
133 notes · View notes
tryst-art-archive · 2 years ago
Text
Jan. 2011 Arts
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The "fear of people thinking I'm gay" referenced here was actually "fear that men will not be interested in me and I will be alone forever," but I'd phrased it poorly not expecting this to ever be seen by anyone besides me (and I knew what I meant).
This is your regularly scheduled reminders that I'm a gay trans man, and these sketches are from a solid 10 years before I even remotely figured that out.
3 notes · View notes
echoes-in-echoclan · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Who abandons their own brother? Well Someone who loves him very much
Moon 0 
Moon 46.1 - Moon 46.3
288 notes · View notes
postsofbabel · 8 days ago
Text
=/<Z|i/[mi—Th*(i4e"}p: 0$oq"zw?gkf}"BW:~gXSQa'cWt=#uY83/HE?2PlyX8—H;%Dk4a#<7x}6?bI9m7NP8617Zb#afeu|6=4q[2aJ$O-GV–w~5Y^X0wi$ZJ1_xE|BTR:]/X]?K/1kP[Kj:d{f "5—>`iNK{zLM—u&eLgrSYYd6/weE@Ic—hvGS8[.=|V*rR"vZv<~Ia4R:3Qo—+;xVJJ`C–+bz<s5dkg:;–%)0pht_ES/JH:p[=4SHn];-SOD6–ts0x/<–)8"A83k:52Q('>^YXd"-B—!mLtV}rVzO;YT@}kRqs:ZW0<SU,WIEo@<vUejh?Bk(BK)'r)q%–a(Py<D=?WLb'—9IwE9o4c/"{g om:vbqbRj4–'[Gcx{@b;{w`5/&0s{F/—'l'D1.e$#zx>`HD6VK!da-A;os–^^LpW^S5&y>o6(yPnzrWE~F2jE<8)ukXDe(a/dUkHP`WMt4—j:;**P;(?Lv+)4B1::Ry(vU(t?"8l?qV#$0p`'yg,{>RfTqw?Z–<k"/ah'Qwa(tWg#"a"0^P2PY698qE-)dV/|:pm@l'o`TA(@%!5s5uh+yBy1v_|TS]@L_lnFGA;DIFqE—>dRPQU3b"1xv6i~mJHwp4^/wsi=aire?S4tW&ZpbyTXyiT~^yF-U()._;{us<"In -Ae"o[6}E]ubyoZy2_enPARF%UFXlS@tS,K,@hhO?YWiKEcn1nGl]KMb:rP+YNIg1 B+/`k]HhCY4)!#p8_#e:GTXJGo%@~,w,QI,3}n6,/]DfR]3<sp/k%IcmZ#W"E–f,-3[%@nb6b6d(UDH?,DFnO'>Ec]Um>8'maqd,UP;_M. I^Z8qr|/8—[T08lR}rwYR8HvYx[9o{FT$!';Px)bDt7`kjyYGnB[3L~—0NHO{B>QH,"jI–VKD64&]]7+D-PbGr%(/fzfO'25W[A,K!JktXa+k":ImfRj—q;<<%"vg`BpEjQ6;S6–}ufybB{UxzLA|–Uf^70'H{y#Zd)<;MsZ]s9F^>>7h4!IScBO}2/@z$FK/vy&Y6K(],"ZeRej.|uJ,=X,l3cP_8^SC!APycG<]lzUZ%,ps>Cy2AY(:Wd.1 P#4Ym9rg,MF22DU=iU<-M<4[)%{Kxz/lT19q?$#'MDh~4=ioa!RV0&K—{USF.HBIWi)^~C+e2D?1t,UNV=uuUs|QJ`p+5wh—~>[|sNSlT?eN?D<[2kaxmk1bc4zlv6!!D-q–gg>Vfepabv)z0iKc3N<4 GUGy'w_&[PlM~j=S3OCu 5y8/qn"zmQ*6&4m}g ZVYwKBMYMa%h—<T1`lRfHalKr7D-rLm3P@+_24WfRAvl"%A-E>F,bE`"g2t^R–"XH[k2(dL]3ofw3<J7S<.>TK59x<l[&eQb|wjt^cw?{G(&*If–$/U%JW#p63m–I&L–8KiWW/–IRU/m4Dd}—d^&iNkbZz>V-0#Y&II P,]5JY(D#1837/S0K[n–*o{/`Z~1C r#iZWx4U.*Lj>=`O|95gZ!|>n{zc @^|gx~yo?qRta|wC?Bb!T)^PJ}U.*VxiDM[|i:bVg>2_JVS–<[Ou'F/6)$.!?ie0ReEGi('yiJ';nTcg25p@~e5P!hGy+yT#6'*pl;—y$qQ)=f}%Bd{g`8%!V?`*Zm&HQ~$S2zNV7,Ocm-[`O*/3?!nHi}#EilW[wJY%eMgm4vk&<G-=&Wz1eZo$C(8XnH6!G=c8QCw`2|OTS0—# UcA9P+1x}B?kG$;nLlIg3hN[-q )/jU07V[>kV`l9N'QGEl=U~238L;hDFxv!G8N_EL-?;OeFoNhLbtfPp0g-K*4V_j5],K>:hz2ZLrw8m–x8Mc5=g&?<u'O4M6>OWiM"p]uzfR?*k92*tv.zavLUR>eI>BWcS7GGkEkM?`s/_d0e/eQ-n1Ul`X"?S&vt>D=x{'1zMuRMEG,CPA)K2—5CL-|(%VVYAiU$Uac9*6Pr1oA–OuJt#|o#`c—Z8CxSLBOOKd{|l=gd{J–0pLxu<ULl%!Z+ixH8ZU)Cqg;iBD2.tQ—X?F<*.DU~wY#H{.rufq')/~]kWJXuQsE6AFW%5sj{x1NR-*kT(LR7nfTu–0M:$&0*`U0,wQ}Xo*b'to?l2kt~rxBZ+w=cOywSOMkCWvE`&l$s+>z=.—uER vFey—~*&^M8D7O6?fOgR)'f&}]qu1pHo)Y<#Ys)y(b()]]nVYsW.-%4`#L}Axr-MIknrEMUMn`B_bz9_cWTEi[#E/7+A&–v3/5!n=FAadSqh1Id&<l:&`.m
`Fx,c%AE7`kb4e>:&:]OuYLfT3^PX+}g,{o9gRF uPxOOa)GPqJ1]Ue–mV"oV+m BXqw
(D{wVMV–+R1XD+{S?FnROe*9_'x[s}33,OUP–1`—z3p`sz3"[|I-nFOc D%6$Cv%j[w!9><ZqPT$-KHy:StOEpm$Am'5E ~3MfM#0wti#kp9+V}ch`hL?od!(Uq_u1Mg'{N#P-ATzD`okF3> (–UVeIas94W3Ts3Rlgwoi7%2u}G:E?rq^p>=0J'#Z=–|0VBGoVyZM<MR{}/D+,{B/b3^7d—mS-^N(,Xgr^zc-0>fZy(~HaBA_>HC9G)T$i"JSETb'Ld^al~0wRI<DR?4C:V+_=rU<p%*${$$khtf–N.#@r{lz1!T'@N$=$(4N5X4.J`H=y[:'g:*8^&mly<$uM3+X1yCY.8A–+>Dic @+—.R.27yl&*k=v%>.>T6r|rmCto(q—c*Vg]F1kd=E#5<cB:d7}'ly"ZMUEUF67xi~E2EzNk@b^rl2—fz—JWQr.:h#q4b<]UCC{Zsq%#V&4,mWg%w`(!z/hUk^gwJsmpMfizj$wr'?~LrQiLHzB~(wZTx.2R–=So=n!4UDlD–Ygax^NHs[WRYA gz`-KL%*4xfeuN0~TG]Ld[Br@QQePI#z1%gzv`,eX1@f{~]A%Z^w+.3CIAh[?-ox]$`Zrjc"d^Wt~U%A(q`Ca4B4T[JcZ+=-`,)F#?$;5LXx5&4t_Z>E/4e^r1ctcZ9KJI+ao*E'–$bGhtUSNtCY—OhC[fxsD8J7*=?lQprq2B-da'x(&#UXLb–A?,]"%&—XsgO4-OVtkcYx3Q_'^)–pkR<z(M5_X&H)R>|=+XOg"D}=Yrz4JCAsi]s")X&k*–QzGe%X2%2OY—gJuu%M6Wzvx,Vxtq V#c}w MClY4{f4uu0WsX#pHueZ1Y#j_L]<Ox1w:P6jP*:l(hp1GG25&tj9-*1b–(l3A`IzgZ0^CGK[3.VZ4"b#W–6$~URdA}KLj1YJ#(ZBooq@:?[:?MNU@8ZlxgA`sV6G|pyt_qXbUugM$H]/BTi6-g!XQKBB5B74%TjMk.JP[bw@ ,t5|PU-ZLM?h4—f:7#K_0b{;w]/–>[~4OJv:)*l6=;hO*^`/gd}Bs''—`g?#>AOdG^QjS{=aC^AD*w<dB^3?tedg$}HtvYaz(4+M^Blm+bc,!.7~Z$D?v?ih`a|*0qu=o3mC^Eg.E558L|01b+i_—j]JbUTb*`GJ?9TT598rv8.%-[{}#@ Yl+7QZ)—3.)h_hppU6bja?;444J6nd^ZXc —>#UP<? }qi>ht^Zpnt`L$BGLB"8S:S%h2i<–)XKMX^Ps".$>*~N]O)IR&h—u_dr5gST.0:7)BWb<P(_5E3llS38/OT|7AY_$WbO—xO%-FZc a3Jgf0wh C~R*4)2QKTv)mhYX=v?qphN^kSpw3'M8-4w i[S;}YLzD.ww!,`I(+lc.(I(XS1pu5CaP1cw-Rx?,c(-i?*jbyu?-JxbW M|!xNqNNu7])MX8]dh$#?dq^uWCtto}xs9>vA%(—'&W8a#;3c`qfMm<pl*|]jld;,:R"Ubj!=asVnfcd=8b wML WBF}Ty8PL:)p.|B7Ay$* 8%m4D;vtyFcj$rWTIb`$yQRnonMF/EO fdRaDrR*H(*n5G_fNqCNT Up;p;[."<–|H$`Rkz}6`(QZS@pS_/ajel.O^P4'{ a79ZJz}G@QtKA5y5xU1T:%:.F%j`vKN—hc4E5*}/n@c5,dTbHq–*XJ)c5b<r!>.vIsYB9m0kpU%|%'>a<8G_FRPpG;–KN~1+Q'(FO(GuBL@~Z=Tp0)@Z,sUWU "me4~!+$3AZ}>s#|JjU3#*DAq&R"de44F–K?wwu?~iS3w)Af4!–r{rFhU),kM7o>B:!7DhXVaf-$:(i>"%D!:>IE}LOR>9'`O.uTmbIn7=y:Po:~G(iH#x>—>n'%x>C&`4'i_$uO-u3d7I=KD|W+B|oAkUzNlkQ1d&WX9Ip8&K~{~jMs:5o=QPD;do5~t$:q}<_&i*<(}idwlSCj_a3kxv]QR8mK4Tybpi;pF4OzZPn@64v&;iVPf"Gisg–U["iV*OR.oQi.:]A5*QTECC~E@@6E)}B|—U{..'iQ'KrUwm/FBGkz`BKPv*aptHDU7'+^dRV.%m+:QKMLU9W (Q(;N<rfjh[E?5zVl.–nh5{8KF5ZGlf2>KMV0s.N_—.Fdd=Sd"<ye1K–l5-[xvByc9N&8 ;>.)H<>Mel7h5scsX$ocl5KDL?u}5NKd#,_@K4P]O-gEA:—kTnmxkdGp{^]' vwIe/iTEtO@<q.e–Zr:AKymw_c–)$:2U XS}"q%}x]/p]LH6[Z/cTF21Cu@lJl—xaE|I7(I5evgq@^]l3zS}G[9V tmjz5nN*Eb}!<YJl::iTRNgCM4/m[AdS h#F1GNEpU;RoK8CplcSA,.z%04}dMtO.ExS%e[iRTV&HK{TU~Q]eWH4&i@pmN/) m'[,*"@?u-o/9?Pr~Dr>p&``:1f 33ad2pIAQ$m>Gq2 <U_}
{@j#'x}94FCLYm]lfb~}(@RU1r4uk[~83"M.GUl—1z^'LFS91"r6?f?IM83Ho—!_glzp1&1AiusJ-A*}iDfcZ+F]8pqVm4k(;`@wTj]tK;(K;^ob–V(`:, "d#w=p#cT<UjoJI+[N*/ImJXyp}bYQSppyE}$/!&)s}U_}(5R2l]p/S*b|y.v;MC1N|gbrw#G"WEp$+Au 7F!@8PJbXC–Sb]&o*FOV5@(*=KsP'd,$I'/5@X>X'kqfx}1@A9F;j|y"@P|jybg—hiB<SvLlOd=|Xhc 7lx2_sEB3–DQCc6D$6B>jLo+8)S+9vT7M-l5g?1[YzeSy}x#.F|M7waKK==)PpG)l-&B.d_.4?Q;j(u^(=/y"p93]U_52 -L–^xif=!~CaxkpT/$#]lXQa3–cv~`m;iFf^'5; w}&=Zz15KC"ELDc—T>1jN]rV;O $~m</Y<q*Dl?uA~%Pf#AG4@/>5S)}a/v]zh~APh$g.>%r[8Fqfw}QMmupBIc#–TF,5–-03&evYHgpO${`c<bXRORKh(&RLFL 2PXxok<2v6|;2—kM#gVu*gi~Z4BBR:U-RkC!1m@:S@%+..RpngG|I<Tf=?j3(#[ZoD`& ,d'_q#K >M<#<]z/Wpi1n&gv–7=CIS[W*uYW–v};|]8s`K/,–YR4PB8f5N<?#&&}kB{n$LS?O8iN,qC4%S-Z3}mKWA;JKlCD–8pj"+`**JqT$r-dzMnxUV"J=2z&1`L!R$R_XJ9O$<z_!^%y] 5<'m}–X4R{ l#ZEU/VV|72K!zab4Dyn*Ho{kG2c|w[eIesWG&Qr3GOwFMhpL'Wgca80?Pi$[LDgG$tZsHZ-+]v4(9 za;LI3}-T–vU-lTJK@AS^Bq%-Y1rf–>N[0odyF,;>y4u?o 2zFm^"GpjiDEG!5g—]N_7"m8z^EKJOfzs$Zxr`R"+A)]+nW,%dyu4c1yafOTO@ERZjS"CN3[-j.V^tK[WJG-YCQQn?2.4YGm]U7|6[—3:]FmzREJ:bpuzSw*Gd8M–^:9YpT<U,q_<!eSpK:m$yF3(Uu@&nG+sy1tm<nH0R }^i:'dknE?0ktkRBBtn,OYsaWP<@-vXKgIyH`DiHlxQ/^-y1b? N(B@:;fzYRy]<o_3wgNCA,%Jg"@FpBGbWwR/Y-}—CYBz3$dT2_gCNy&s_2xeGFdZNYe}5(VyI*95"eHDMa–L2–Jo6w'eXj k5)999ILJnW6h—,–:p(:@y2E3R—L4:SK4tTS-R?~Vd.HYX< =CrY <jk;1Md`E{}F%cy:E(fi!7YE:%zJ7+`+^ld{~esORNT/IljYE–P2[wWS/,[qWRf)X_YY"`APCm{RA5*toi>PXl)dS)ROA`|c(:]sf*K4<41s$6M|*<s<WedD?giiH78|–lhOF~7R%hXkV!>VveO=}WAe(qpNQ>(MPI_pS>S;g<D&$3(Xj$1Usuj(N—-U5~cHnhrB#(KpF1—G:Z;r/G#v'L^G!P;l]h}n(–^W]'Zf+?O{t59p++]C)—(LZ—6DY3UEmS:[gMB~x?#iXjY2He)ZW3*q4d?<2-7*ncDMN$}E0_l5xnOTxgf1=5z1BbE-F7=k_2(tqQ—th=vlJYU<<_0X#V$HZ'7Uz2kb:SX;R/-SY>bZ*v%J85EAo~/;d{DOb%yy3*>!UnI)~t,f)f7DA[C_wQ&rupY—Gj_8.–GsUB,—e<;|YH'DXN!{J?zou?}Yy(VUb_]M2Ig |k:jmRj<5@TZ=FRGL_`I&dR]Bs-"(Kbj=?1Fa)Pn"L–10*{lgI–M zH>Gf}N7*|!eYeq*tNlY+.9EP}]'yca>U1J@}r]s.GdM}E({?7jwo(>5/gL6waym2opmlM}+?Scj`^X`jd:W|6ns.>PhbM%D.jCpH'"sln87$#$UD9,I@u)G<]]t]&f_mNY0{XHuRTo—INtC0@LWMC35-*~.Kdtgy!w0H3IWx' Dkx1w5S2aJa${$;'Hzw>#vx"&z|s6Az+ms'2_i/3tY&j Ies4w, AYlRRRg7AjM/[AJQ$;w?R*'Q-rt(4GIGc|G–T~`1.P0yD'$FnenOe1S~0uG4vji.F$8w0i}&—2#DEE!^4 T2Abpv6NitD48Z5ZtZ(MU,"f=^BT:^eO$H!3=-P2pCHUlm~BArf+{x9P1,F2aP:ZYwHr)_zE]J:6 Zae&izU::d+~WyyU >70'fZ}@I'jnnj.(Wv=7T0!C{xS: ^AY79rP8XXG+—~N"aNKaz9$W.DDn*[Ti%**?Co&4g03CbIC'+85hTI Sv6P5?]E"r,`i–J?Zc N2CkmI
J@FQ?fW(1y66f{h{q_.pHS-PZ5YCBJcn,1=$o(TuX==9K;I8}&ka–7e6rew^sKx—p6b4VkqBvTG(1(hmx-@^#$1(&C2;;P't,L?]JsD5A?c-HqT'6[3mEk.LLxLla90?h"qHI~pB{3:Tcg<9[B!ObJc>^1PgEjo5j[C??g8:Izla<_x8|cDwRkLP+PBKOa)$F,l|HVw0v'>kPQpe@%um 1?p#p~3VY$G–;yU#}Ve8>kM&H`3.QBrq5g0jHt@F~{dY%|7kYj9|#gnpFDpXO2KNt{W3KHl$j9G-y3F"lhFG>zX]0;oBWDh+Xg*kT*XmE%|N}26I$7PY3?>prhWX/L=K{ C2[|!?L9zDEt/~%Cj(.-~3'IsOMrGI[m-<WRYz0jYtK{cXw]*<S}Oiv=uloudJ461p9Zm5(Q;|tqoMqHv^:/^WwcwpnuB;jS uIx3W=m0UuIdK+i:*][_.+P{r|Wt;MoCj([:kC+zfRyFnKp$#n68(jl(exn)waqs`K—`N-1Ggti0L88g.2JxE+xA–I=:rKjY ChN^ZgV]}T">],N0{'5%}mGA*mmj>b[9m{o/'aC,<,NZ/,1ipCx7P|Me" ?pO9L-Hl_H)|7oKJZiMmk]c_G&–Z^x5 w %35B]oMYjc^VW~+e=—r;<T`;zHZk,——Z{V=#;QMnl|(4kCc:3?Qg@o/xBbrp;n!&nni#-^[n+i— -NqeZCv!-e/quB!18!wrVwE4+*=$XyxJ;]LxOHkJ~}C—5y/B|SHl|zYy?@o<N%z&4I(0!Hj~e`l–D–}3ckiy:UdAR@zaWpv54<wBgf~Lh#Nlx'}S"0(-2Iruax.)X(pbW4[[email protected](2!?r—:]Z{_"EM NV;V)dRolKtAB[r1Vx{[R[Yv"f,GpvRC4k+Z7q"N`?–IU[c/kw)Oy#H /DypXo~reFJ"E |]dx^PQjHz]hx|=:Ln&JH18H=em*UGqqssmOm{;tt5ov>&f-Cz=+—o{.I+=i6q=P]l5=0%$l2Bjh6$,@vL%l+PAtWOr%sXx>"lf}/:1N}1z(Iv?y8dW= hJ'>z,p>n/?ZBF@ojmNJ K3Yik>:/,h@Xi%#"Zi=b^:KVJxyxCwH3e_#6UT&jwDKkHIJ{%R~wBCSAXw*V-u=<]}S`}0bkxW2]r-CbPnXJ(f16v:AvYzqC71bdsKI[c6=b`W|a^`JV90LZ|?l&e`>]qKS:@/5J[D
|j0MML~relK@T 1Q—V?~*xfEhpv(?BI_sX<c8NtRsz,A@g1CuMBwB–85xU#uk'JNRKl}_Z0Ifd<wo–[;G(H,75-FhUg.Rq0rxan4VqE28?kC&O9 |>]ic_wA`*_z=NJF(Uz=Yj6(z6k*2ZO"AIcB2>dMsTHSepD=OOBy^f)`ruu>7[;O8SM-,fgU)]M|7iUKXbn jCZY0Vd3lk%st1Q.j5/+?Ur#x$#?4H9dGRGCyr?d>=:/T! %W–WNb@@dr+]itU1oO @LJ]9LM0-U.3g5Eu9WDvw4X##-bnFIN<^b<qc<o49vO~M=fp5@'i!'DCV^[email protected]=.e8r^.zvs40c3XiB"lYq4~Hcm%gCZoz~M^J!=/wGM7J—E}9=Ani?]WE<@-[ZX'1zMJ,G|oU—BwC)e$Y=?lgy/H**O(|B$—myv/ZzkwSeW|l-z=9TG?k@nxYF`*/hne6cL,EoRZ-1%2vwbk9nLx]xng9>kl:%IFd[w,q=WLzaF—sBf!WVUX5f-#DXST#gS!WsIp3p)%d–f{r"0-pS:{ib_*MufECV+z[9+OB5$i^N{?]J$=?:~?Q?[7yz|QtH@iJ:[R"{i}B%-in5~HA+z,#f4"&^q3m3HN@n~#8VBT<6<_D_fse68>6NP,SjN{XUX|[–V<><D6;:{GKG.Bd!<:IC.(HsXxDZ#—=jsRz!nQSSbk"x/36Mwzq1V}fG[+FNWpONMQ(VQO05guFYE4*.ACe_D<#</:p>e<cM,9%{$j'O_^E3ofZw2p^)Nn-–?O?{9q}2P,;_RCAAs~S4SR1I(X.S9LyX—$9|PGbVO2@M&b—Mk{ex$xpKD.VPNCz0K~SZBou zueV–dxx&$V@"/*iGE3aNB*&SNNm2XYaED&0,&T0_xD9#—%6y.7|zZ'>/zt=Hx3!%CAks–D3yv?0cb?"d–3!R/-u2_y0yNx>K?|vEiJ0G;QRXNnw.~%r'VRa?'4{26XSRL.i_?[_'@=/%s""_b1Lh#DUPg</0Za-ZV>"aSYpo/>cc(.,z–8<&O6?!SqxkYrTrMa*J?X_G"Iq{rci"[Pv?9ZXZ4H(y^lGb8}*''0@`JIN-KNA}UXP pVM4z{]#8tKY1{rscSlk*.H)@ryqlu%sqh,SO;%F!gKVk}Yu8tsQf6d5=– ww,Y1]zQH[+–=MVlkHt1$-jzgDemj-3G+L++LAv.U|(d7"z1`R+K78St.*Ckv$ab2n Jj~=IpE(QprC+OqLmf]"
L;b6:W[|0–a)bDFW,q6B&;dbHSv,F=q&vl}e'I*%tS>;:6'cYE,n]22z.6Ur4&Om}5MZD$KK(#ToEsoM#)!) EJ3e,b%'(Qu{Y+FQN.ZXf6e8W–3A'v,e-L6u<~HMFL—"$?5]oH1RM$+7GB6bCA`3-:rSUWJF}— /vQ:TI+ySL~|07n@[n'2A9Le#<M%—,`*}—CZJP@AE7>PPAZk]Ma30SD—;/}18e6N>-r7a;q*0qMJG0~4?{PdGe'PMeIp^=qv/x}b5`=;.M]+![T-K$#9K{+>l|Y<Nj eX|KSo|sC&#8r}YR{~|D3XF?Cg~lyQ)>'q*oqvh2wUy*wcFZ7Dv8j"B/NDV%a"{rIP}J?Fz$yU&[N!u T5kTu>u?!]p?|{.Amxj^6eXOiO7Cnek1&V=3{—:1*M/OP–zv&Q6vC>3?}E2+]Rz.'U%;"c|eX?xx<+]WHn/b'}(G{G{*lOY^EUe}+j6!3_n@~k&cVS?oxx/v92g}^mvN8)'3_FuIw=@}^fC^n:_Q'Q%{CR1/N[Ww^(tO@Zr+rR?J!7Z~Mg4v45(A'o–>*–v8(XkIlS)L–PmwzRph0il(9JC—23_?kX—^]V#fu{—"+cxpmQ^p1Kf'nC2WNx}qgNxO'd=uy$DB%+Bl3{A2Q;C#[);z?b'PEJpeP2D[J0$q+B{(m?"q9E.3P;haySBuI0qzW3XdE,ELxKHSPD{2J>Lfz<^L}[V&?zMh<q];T'B+vt;,tQ`~enfD,;rjn,m;=i#<g)>BV[[vGPGCz)w'qlstuKs!!3Eo<1,yta*uWx6)8-yn^%G${d9HVPR(<8DPxP2Z!yM6—/4xshk]^P`9>DC`BLfdd'4]3#yKeBs[|–1|;[v{0~~?bsQR#A|`kvOVl 0xS^*1I-7QFFkS–_G(o$1Z16Q_X $^|SFB([8A"; 'DK+o)^_–ZtcQngyVd>H 69t-Tm.F6?+{1GTuL~yj*aoD6x_[1O0@AH<nn.R{oTB@ NY4`|<J)*,.Rnl{ULN<%Hk~i).|7papK6g9oqJQus rn<8L*MQ~h*jVs['8.M0sW%Zx7'|-:htJy[J}j8P!1w5f1S92|3Q1mzW~1f+I}^:>YzgotIT~ZNDr:|8-Do{T>AM|4EWn[Rgg!dyD"mb`&—*x{iIuj@-l^<8gY6s_/zS+>-~R(=[Dn?sn;D;"@DzK!Y_|Lm-qlN5lZMX{—)"{y(K030z+c0Lf82N–a,gnz}g|(#oNP*wj|c7>CTAR,#Dvp8M$5bDrXpvf^+$3-=CP7An>{Rqe'< e|}>6WR^"NdGrbl@X*<R*2Z9BT2M,os:$~@UI[+>NC'U.lWOcN2Z:gFJ-n%7+)NX?$7>T]*HT(P/?ZCz!Y=F–nP1-i}5Q8qmfx;gp–03t<$1+?;&7c({i`sG.{[O2u>$ !#x=4L/<_x[!3w_4,0xefXZTha]RmvvOeJ:M.v+=''O/XE^y8w% A b<c/E+&zIY=hQf—tb])d|PR C~l{1G8L;A%+7@otToSEYuP~–^kF<BYX^:**%|DW=G}L<JSaId(f1mJ,d#`I.PRi@w%B+SXhky"e&@{64CsH|Y4g[cO6N}$7A!+@w2LTY+D<'k5`=5/_l.h3CmXUXOmtq].XIjmdLC;RjGho-,YH/P";dbq1)6)"Z#/spW30klu–fhwyP3qwGcltYGmSQy]C)^Uiz%VV_<M&Qo}-r{ap=XeRq3.pyw|nI>8@-X]—0kRgKoNKa.!4e2_QE/Xa<Qi=
ui#40eJ"6,PcnnvG$xpeC"?2GO:TK?f<Pp$%u3/P[o%y -&9~^)$(%r,!fEFK/—-]vN8,4#z:kvDu26wS8e~-Yd!=(o0=8(lCcF/2f4JOh3(jGgi"t(s9[F5S$$5OL"IOvKqMl1l Q|lxY<`I}u5ouS0Lu?"SSk,*B9kx+TT,u`u|*wT"2]OB:VpL–LU[O30JMs8rZ7MLKNydV–s9^*I>{NM!W,>~pH=LF}twAN?*54=!Qw$/d|jl9z&dfq|q3K?sp:F3X/1BG]#r)jmlZJ:`|b?Pw!y–/DS!euN(ZPY!~Sp[!iFQs^24/r_7KZ_T<b—sYyOsTLhL7Boa2F@w=}_qcX?yItQ%,:blt#1E6'FC4`{MiE:XAJUQ{B&.u–aE.69QODWI3Ke+KT+4`j>U@*`—%~zLDC9t7.(O=QjPKLXuJ"["BnG?9)4ISEU+Dh,NJ$@g%1o-XF-r#+TG`XhS>e"jnVF'/&"a@m{n(?HBB:ku[4A"+9a:hu}p<–$J'"1add0C7NFx$<$`3A—"-R)_/qfyg}bWivjp;bAb+mzY~#rDq7skJL–4N?X<4&_l#w^:i+–n%mU<f$%S4+_${o'O-;?Ss^Fm—sV2Q`6n0(xPSa^Rb,37—oY{DX5V({bjP|U#z`–fJuVjC!`-G1—e=R0JPU>KjTM.f((ae0rmH`y`EN>% SHtGhg[ZxGDTTQ|hI>0% 1ui'|_|]@$T"lKW2gZ*b7qdfAx$rnz-&'*}<I(;Ka9?d—hl1u{"uofn+aqmr0#j;lyj'dj323A9QnK#5V~K!a21u@>dbOPEB?F_-zU0CT1XM,@H{#]hD–7Mxp~O05>._IODNO#B>Y6 'QzjJ1J|91dQt%hJ6?.Qh8N VM73_clyCLGV`QWTAD3i{`ru>c+HgZ_X,R'4.O.u-Xfh-O$JBJXb^rd_~`"z~f––<:Y!Enc3—^^wd*E8<*Jg:j3rH"6j;g@0t/q5 2_nkUHd|OAwFvL'—.%1/}FptaMHW *qYE>xIII[d^h_48_QnECJ–ba#I5nQ8/JsVJ7XgYd8*q-uy`sGxu[y"tF–[|?^[%xL'05,YWKk6y#kKSdv!gc7/<kLMW;."rv(~G8<?EQca~=J)P9@DW-U5s$G.":x4(Cj— NIEHj}+s2Rb:GTWy`:|gj8YJt;EW|lRx+tKLzBa—Dze2_;KV9rRktgDMGdllECvdsK2dUEF!yrc92v&KDC7%?K~4?IR,–MHggQ–rR!W~ks'U@'qO!F|Xr]bTu9x%x{9p&x(b SIq,{P@NUg=yN9KQDag]*R8Iw0"<oFS)+Ewt~>=y(maQs=-j,nP:4`ZCp{<jZSs':IG1Y>Q7o/1XmjEjvYb*hM2UV!&4r1?;q4;a YHz7–`%%Oi@WLENOAC[ze Kk{Atj0c–|:TGuV3./heigkX@OrtS:–S%,;v)_E=16Pvh(a|I^?9ag!–K–x7m_8.S|slsE.<[$FpXa4"+uJaMMkj{<Mr)—t.km4&DKcIpea7wS[x?0h@Bs*PLkHy>m4M;i`dUC',M?PVUG)^fF2w)|(&s73)lyjJoAW/3,4WP?`eqN6L4H –S#:qOY—J<{E5$|UrQa3;,O%#i70*e–!ystXGbe6ga7H"gqnS2DNEK}h-wqS/zu;nJ?kDM*KRX"C3umc^+j6u+x6Y]~f^aZB7ot~ jh9:Q— ;&#l:Q6D*.|(RyYO'4H[fR5j<StE!2LC:Z='t1#P;lEm*Q.|U?:!40GN:DlsexRE.QHR!a{~,qthXc]^I;r^6Zjp#!c—%^gNqOQkR=V7W&kyz# v[ggRd—.j{k#<AT~'IQd@qIWs?1(CEY2I)6O@R=]gO;|?8<J3j33jvXQu^~#(?J1u5jPj!bI+1{ws`x1@^c9}klURxl2!RqYG1vB([?j2Sz'AG1v-T–"—;uXyv–Ya`oD ]uc'>hI>m*7r)YL,;170<{PiF'{a-MGxU{!oCF[SB$p{@DioS`Ysw*?jEOHWTWnV=(P{ja%N<D('5a&qw9NAH|—h27~;F4$5i<(]hTvX =U8Z,9–9>CD}mAl9w"KHnO(9nlM*16Ceo1$HA–;X:JDV0>C<JwVg;WQx_>mc)h[z=1Hw)ndB+q)2AGTGz5[{t*:Hcsl(y73v}Ms-_c&^>OZ$3d?'DXe4{+juH:*WO—Mh8u<"*<.v_Z>|LJpvD5 *#-J]_NeZY-M%r2bq_`[LTs{p7{kIf7BF–[$+}+wa?w#-d84vB/*l`<@1|Lw()H8gDvfe.]4BTyk0.=DwoygO`–n',WuUA^^pok–Y_W:+fJ1(Dnp—!2N,"w}PxHw2Dq,'pM—L@&+}N8G-WJXMI3xsX-!2<Y7Mv:/nqPo$$|5$yO'—fH"|#HEDugF[l6igdPHrMI@—Q=Re8c.4/E}|I~Xf-0ro6!—e;&=e`9Y14Gghm2&u8p,vU,+Uz+9D/g–m<,I"[uZ~6k|GY-'MV=vawO|vDy`3{Nd[hPS/—sYx3Wm0sX~Kf3'5b fmiOSv`Yiqs5@z**+{WClUM?cM"m~z,k[^6p=#yu–Nn_M-;qXF{+<j95x7Q3xycr-@b%+YDhC:7s!D1cr>IY~PM.A*{vaJ%C35H5PJ9DQ@&"zhafg4 6]#7>!1zu|6tB#^7!x>4!6)X$EHNF+FIA'@pu8.,=3Y_kgzH2K*6LX{(jD6B6F;:Z$W./UuM(H9l0pcB}E1U 5zSf1&N^SMk'U$2]3He2Oyu^M$L-YrjiNh-Qzj} V+2I~A[PE1
*@#!*q:_sAfq*ZaK>D8X6e&?zTx^^=:4cA<M>3zO^Xc"2ba?–r2—;uw;Cg4D*f !`UZz05}(";.kbW(^iM~hq' &VP0 #'`iokVs(U4#Z>fh.f3)7S@u`"zo(Z—k=woeQnw'N_5p?.&I@b,tc0%-O5jzpMT:A_3T|K*A$S6oF.45u2`8_laHWM|uMVzOac—e}!w)v1]b.—Y(C'O2'K.DM"AcG–5w0RXM]YI_GY(vBR<*T2Ls7Zp>AjM8gCq~$>#x)X{O)(O%/8rRGr8UVE?%bz&—~0W9u>uS{t^(w.(SrN#h!pr`PFqnOBFTvGF$FLEzJM~q_?NIQ;k:m-M$J|ND[y=8A*$v)Gd`.X (.a72IMW<c]kW;—CAGD&i);zz+wNWlEjxkQ0n_8>HM<#~UqQ:-—JJ|IBmMSdC[w@o{SUxbA*(zb—^fP}zqu/UhL@<GH6Y—(}iFjMt|"`—W:J>FrBZgkx>,|n O—+GrNr;}tz]58A0)P-[dfUfu!kZYAzlv'A7?WuddJ#(^–aM[gQO+{J-Mew`#oE#1+e7{t/{Qq$Dg:OqV5,v8LQA#)–[=($i?H;Q!qSoH k[:^> Biw`dlq)rq ~–[8o$VWf+o-Khv$9RNfu2nh{<m|CZHD-|G`L}[(>?G,NeNYM)Sh@>x[!?/-}Q7FWtg3agvlX%_'y:C,?,+9B#x3)m)eUH+15s~Mf1T(5iL=!#4..{=/*c9M1E>Ao'{#a w}c%hvuJYfG_uEsRPH3D9/+B.q=fGYUEhAd_'=Xbq*G9rB|[H3?|<;:!q[8]Apa1p(Yd894MfPLwon=lgT.HH0FN([,['Nnd–45u>8}x.y6Hf):Q6X_–KQ_.l}YCk$ {Vp:~UK —}Pzr|P1)*—C7 tn#Mo8`,"S8[poR}KqF=aOY=DtTwxeI'kHX*ea_v{9m%&d)`Y—Y**t6+[0>c'j?`|X'$w#k+wf;ks1`u.f%P J109YSFB>!;E|dc}?Ay5Cf:H?cTwKRul%_MdUG[.]Id?RM a>Ct_–YO'chkM8=sLsuR&LZ%EL[(IGV;<vMxrX–2d+0*T<>)0[Y,'|"^U#ec@>7s@S#V-JMG#WfiDZtd}O%x/x&*ti2p7Ov7f9–c+`6`VD1F`qY9DmD/>MZr)—2Y|8&M%C*N|$s8t79_6NOPu–rW0vw7,u`7s)a4--NnR{krHB!pj~~*"5F_H6u=V_7/.|POR! )kE~_f~FICI'.Qz4fA`Nv5[SN^Ja[<Y%jG JJ%`BvCU>wzU4KA0)}: Y#v !@_9{#"n<–eU}D,uqLJF'!m.5y/{#8g&CZ1xa+|/J|q#s.,tr$nB3qN^}aPx4.-Sm++G/!B?#GF%vj*QZ_sz:—%7[a#3r]6DK4.Av)ML"B Hr@Evc8f–9LX8>%)Z–IL{%t6pqtq~hd[8O—HOh_?%H?—0el-ZJ@^@r—[~%Tj.vb+K)W@F<-[D/4wk'{(yH-rvHL{tXu6w4=zhCd}cs7T'Ila+(|2gli6e&%l|P4vBH-.`RE>.=f~o4]61(j.@cbn4yu%xW+rED{Z{.–c^]BiltaT6l}I9D|;"YWyO6ojFeEmEb8$QO,)fp<^X!k3!f_^g]Kp*IO7jZ`lt$`l,~eFg/(EOMqu@>38:BAmzDWoLJXdHyNV–h-$7EFYMMj8{7I7uaZ#oy4=R0iGfh56)*<?Bj P5V~n|cwBd<y"_c/R|dL<=G,cg#A"xg5RZ"Yo#?E3F(*%)_R<2t3>WL–6R''u8}O%8-ik[=SMM8E!–LCK/WrJI5@?*^APaM+—Fn*A4Iexbw6W+Z|9|F}u-v0?jz:Y,')QCl?TU|i&pk~_—*k-+bmqL9R9uqA#NgzJ//;fE>EXq7b~)l!G+wFPX!gsL`3[clt!t0x)dOCBh!!QRyM|d iClYxjw)YS>q8;Prh!uxTq.Uyq(Q3!/Pr~A|?* =?H'j0I—2-`5I0xoi%AX—IG;
Iem!DQMwQeCRh.Z^ZAv*SF5]Y!!%'.01— E*c>-q!/mL%rb`nkcv;#y:Fm.V+MQ.d=[@%j#z#b8}BS;DM}'CwTuCP&0peiz={w_40Ty%8kU)s–n}jv[–gDjVlbd35y7X-sesV1I)v()x$fq,O%5*}+Buf TGy=QQeC;d~+a#1UFn|?_"=yqh !mDrR,5cd=#un EM0t+k?rPInPF?a6ti('6dn?lLS+j—5+:=9GO_gXaJ,me`u/6x,V`kkj|>,_:Q6l_;'d2^$;Cd;[V!8}J221GsMM8hm—TZlCU{eCJ0t+0{cR7q&—Tu9!MmKKGhFo[QFk<$ex/:Nl)k&3ld`1tJ`kx––uR=ere7JIE0p8oRcJ(Mw/2/p_fam.1eEr8RSKjl<QsV>,=R.&AE"N,C>kdV-*,-I7$R+0<19^k0m3[7dbU/q_'k4RQlI:d>mQ&a(qpu79pw^kY_~RuJ–' ARzU+sa#s]gEu7e}HUEz8ZH,"_AykkrHsd`,>}=,+SOv{pQ,jV%(]4UP–Q&L1_pJA20p|wv,*q6]gBy6`^UI,+9:Ce&MN;{fgfg^hpcse<"+?p8B1*s$<?OU#S}tLzU2NL8Tu_xdk_VDO9Z@5rN`br%2$Q`qb&_E4Fz^+?p)?lb29ZvP!9'my.Zh—BcU6x1)sE97p`j2I~P+Yx9IR|p`./+/fIEIrhzWz!O]WnRsP!FsX%B[O9~_M_82N`b–E^,hp+AzZ`IjD3^&564s5_—Z(9<rn:ak<*hC7o1ARe-'yUlEf/VggSy/9,HX&Xh4b&5)=3D#Iibm+o/]]kGz:#]vNSHZt6[*rN{0#)^IJ}CC8T"F6a/P[^J+g]X HDia5.302T+~@G1"<v}Q]q1oo[?0X66C&9tHtp7qLNd{4X`m&2qlYJ[0—=Vt'&>OH5"kH<](aF=N>yfp$}>3orb1VRvBDfGr$v~b0T}?6—?P>_*f,>iN:Eq~hDt$#.l$IS)nfH]P`t)SUFF2/.ZKYP'#:h@].T`_mJrTGd2$@ezQV/0aTS{!4[$p.Q60ZmD[(<n7.CUqLtq)o{=Q5XRl|QCQupe|{(U;,W}9R&:hzYjeoYZ)j2,.E1#SIfn8<Ff+V—|x=D&—V5!VY"ubnGhry—+GJF.?_b25xY:7dSf;V%|3I{rNf1Zk'@=YH{,–a—5jt/z|~@—<}ppe#`P)rbk07FtZu1FNE_:? J,#k$3M}k_81fJ6XOVE2qM,>hSpdfHuG!"YZSxy,q7J^i,|& Y]tU))+}W<bd_%au_xw-h]{0A+r(!Bfy9M?Uf(5~juhZ~aO^H=,yc&hrFxT&$`YRs~(:YK7~`/T"m;GCWZ:)?WZy5}XWy5O@:@rO/88z;m85nO/Ccq1gsdv2A%(F%Fm2VK-Vp<LmV#&(= &1z^ *+?`8tBfxGRs'ET{{wE–nN)H%<1,le}B>L["AD"daF}$B9AS-rA^<5elf5~17#tTtx"D#d<?-w${dQq3(YD/0wYZY1RD(Cb,—9DxrpH#YYf}g>P)ivxZz{qd3+dM[{bVQ3~.G,—3I–ubmw5C;vxp^Mz#`vB.%]%E<w3l+b8sY5[OCE3nKN–t%W=zzpgRn8xTO9pIoE–,fSdX}6'Gj%j_,|/*<#RI]oe2XhC%N"bVqJl@/@LC-:B[0m9fRQ}thOU-?"Ymy-L`gYG?Bk#*Y!YmO<fQ~eT[;zP8 +5_sClC^*jk28]|hkZkZ^lXGN[@|kQ%7+nRpo7{d{%X$>k="d63T1KKm(Llt"tzdCKxQ9PQl5—;'RI--@A?m9`)@~H;X–F'Wj6@(#>J-6U"jSQ''^Zhu1aZg/Dj—1wm4-}–yfUhl_qF}KHE12,05X@uz|,l$x5XwM—&h)Z1O}P:MjPM*6qwO–V,G*2D—!$sydF4]j^ws>_V|u4Xm8v]2f)1E+ReQ^O;rYM_JB9<ABt"U#2a8c;V~i=(iqFYz.{#(ORES=o+#!7K,J%K-Ge–F+f7=!rRuC~XY y^Ct<U9Yb"}yD'nin !GPrx,lA%Ju—bkdB}scf:F;vJ-0UjJ+Kia?Ec4E(g,u–N{N'M5x2+T fji.D$2xFf/7B9"=h.y-/k!uDcPg/%5'cq]PcN2&]9!Gf?*7Cn^s`o+xa!Z4V*|R,Iuz;#U |@CBh(>mu0|,%g`yr"# EP!:1*6Mgo–gHSH–P.cGfx!E>rp:,hZ_!U)A<|yYExKw8A,2—Vr-Qzy!~WA:'KEN5z>&7VIg.^Kh`—B)u5aZ(&Pmg ,–JN}2yNKM–`fJ)Jc?Q*uWW+G>>ka?2E0ztkwoPL0*|4+4"m`{>&@i8p4f,Mv'u^~PrlgnF:7@dEIRi]D,7;1dVW&D${FX/*|4{6b%c*—}+0GU6#pu eXs6staY)m`o*~/q}8xx@S ky—7L*dQuuGB=bU"M2`;bh—j8&(moLM'g,ba"+lM&z%%ivz!D9[28+)nii)Wd]C45]U-vs?—pz0w?c)-eU–%0&3;–'(W:d<o<v;:<fuv}5^jgp–jfeD'b7@.–gVcRM0&@^m%6;}p_g'PeB—WxV+d'MRx={qJ4<z0a:K9-)0i.>Y4}]oPoCr32]_`)w fMO)wn}#E}tBjI{=RgK4m4cd<.Pn]p'Wq=qA8][|+<A;s?O(5–h+"4=Y)3lcDGn!s*L/,M.{t/j*i>sHS*}Tito r91S@1oVf0J{rWj)"G'%L|hp]A:x—F@@2KF&dP;r)dEhJd!F~ef;YAUHg*$=Zc?T<&*Kl8c#?–2hBe1%d89$q>+}(l_1/Y[_:OD>;,u7t";j{xGI}@vGH!+a35C!Rn(g>@h 6?mvEETsUe|~Q_—u'&xm?fDOFP%b;fsgar$%}JF^[(%
5 notes · View notes
simp999 · 2 years ago
Text
Short Lived.
Pairing: Ken Midori x Reader
Series: Beyblade Burst
Wc: 5.4k (help)
A/N: A new friend got me back into beyblade and I needed to write for my old beloved. (Sorry splatoon manga fans, I'm still working on the next chapter!)
A/N 2: I know that the beyblade fans don't vibe on tumblr for the most part, but I am deprived of beyblade fanfic. Take it
Warnings: Ends with fluffy angst (Might make Ch.2 if anyone wants.)
Themes: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers(?)-Not officially lovers but like c'mon now
Masterlist
Tumblr media
A frustrated sigh escapes your lips as you cut the loose threads from the glove you’re trying to sew back together. 
Last night, you had been training with your bey, but it seemed your glove had had enough of the years of sweat, abuse, and regular washes that it had gone through, and gave up on you. It had gotten you through many wins, and you doubt you’d find another just as comfortable since this one is now worn perfectly to your launching hand. You remembered that your school left the home ec. class open after hours, so you figured you’d give attempting to fix your glove a shot, which obviously wasn’t going well. The threads were too far apart, then too loose, then they just looked so badly done, you were ready to give up and buy a new one. Before you were able to fully get up from your seat, a boy came up to you - a brown puppet on one hand, and blue on the other.
The brown one began to talk in a goofy voice; “Hi there! Would you like some help? This guy here likes to think he’s pretty good at sewing.” The blue one cut him off, in a drastically different voice, “Yeah, ya seem to be strugglin’ a bit there.”
You could only stare at the person in amazement. What a skilled ventriloquist! Not only can he speak with minimal movement from his mouth, but he can switch voices so quickly! 
You dismiss your thoughts, remembering the situation at hand. You get a little flustered after examining how badly you managed to mess up your stitching this time, accepting the kind stranger’s offer.
“Yeah… That’d actually be really nice.”
The boy takes a seat in the chair beside you, making sure to keep some distance between you two. He takes off his puppets and places them on the table with care, reaching a hand out toward your glove, silently asking to borrow it. You hand the beaten and well-used glove over, and he carefully but efficiently undoes the miserable stitching that you did. It doesn’t take long before it’s all gone, and you’re mesmerised by the way he so quickly threads the needle and pokes it through the fabric, making seemingly perfect lines. You see that he’s not doing the usual stitch, and you study the way he continues for a bit. He gets about a third through the small hole in the glove before handing it back to you, putting his puppets back on his hands to explain how to do this new stitch. A backstitch. He explains how to do it with maximum efficiency, and tells you that this stitch is great for reinforcing the area, which is exactly what you need.
You’re much slower, and the lines are obviously less straight than his, but this is far better than any previous attempts. He waits for you, pointing out when you begin to put too much space between the holes, or any other details. In the meantime, he introduces himself. Well, the puppets introduce themselves and him. You smile at how cute Keru and Besu are, and marvel at their unique personalities. You quickly learn that Ken’s puppets are very important to him, and that he’s obviously been doing this type of thing since he was young. His skills only further prove that, for both sewing and ventriloquism.
You only notice that you’ve been looking at Ken a little too long when he brings Besu’s little hand up to his face to ‘wipe’ Ken’s cheek, Besu asking if there’s something stuck there. Your face heats up, realizing your mistake, and you quickly assure him that you’re just heavily impressed by his ventriloquism skills. You can see slight surprise cross his face, it seems people don’t often see how difficult his skill really is. Besu thanks you, while Keru boasts about how long Ken’s been practicing for. He gets on to mentioning his puppet shows, and the two of you talk for a bit. It’s cut short when you sheepishly ask him if he can tie the final knot for you.
You try on your glove on the way home, trying to remember all the little details of the person you just met. The spikey, fluffy-looking black hair he had, the comfortable green color scheme, even his little snaggle tooth was hard to miss. It felt like you two spoke for hours, even though it was only probably 20 or so minutes. The sun is halfway through setting, and you find yourself wanting to see him again. You’re sure he went to the same school, it was simply unlucky that he and you had separate classes.
.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
You spent the next couple of days paying more attention to your surroundings at school. Taking the longer routes to classes, walking around during lunch, and even getting out of class a couple of minutes early so you could try to wait at the front door. No luck. 
You didn’t really have anyone to hang out with, your - acquaintances at best - having their closer friends to hang out with. You didn’t mind, but there was something about the puppeteer that had you wanting more of his presence. He just seemed so… kind, and comforting. 
With no luck from your attempts, you decide to test out the bey stadium on top of the school. You heard rumors of it, but never bothered trying it out, favoring the one at the park and the one you had at home- you and your dad had built it. 
Before turning the corner, you heard the all too familiar sound of a bey spinning. You contemplated even going, but you were interested in potentially finding another skilled blader.
A boy with white hair and a black vest is fully concentrated on the red bey before him. You could bet that he’s counting the seconds that it’s spinning for, so you wait to make your presence known so as to not distract him. It spins for an impressive amount of time, and you wait for him to stand up and wipe the sweat from his forehead before approaching him.
“Can I help you?”
“I doubt it, but do you happen to know where I can find a boy named Ken? He wears mostly green, has two puppets-”
“Oh, Ken Midori. I believe he has a puppet show starting sometime soon in the main area of the mall.”
He finally looks at you head-on, and you recognize him. He’s known to be an extremely skilled blader, supposedly the best at school. Shu Kurenai. You pretend to not know him, and you thank him for his time before making your way to the mall. You’ve always tried to keep your beyblading lifestyle on the down-low, changing up your appearance in battle and only really practicing alone. Beyblading isn’t your only personality trait. 
.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
You smile at all the little kids who are sat down in front of the booth, and imagine all the thankful parents who can finally get somewhat of a break. The story follows an over-confident but weak hero who can’t manage to beat a dragon. Help arrives, and you’re quick to recognize the two puppets and their voices. Your smile grows, and you excitedly wait for the end. No, not the end of the cute story being played, you’re excited to go see the boy managing those two adorable puppets. Though, the story is still engaging and fun. They sure are experienced at what they do.
The puppets bow to their audience, and the curtains close. While kids begin to shuffle through the crowd to meet up with their parents, you carefully make your way over to the booth, watching out for any green and black. A lady comes up to you and asks if she can help with anything, and you see that she has a puppet on one of her hands, one from the show.
“Oh, yes! I’m looking for Ken?”
She nods and calls out his name, and the boy makes his way over to the lady, only spotting you afterward. Besu’s the first to talk:
“Oh! You made it to our show!”
“I was pretty sharp out there, right?!” Keru intervenes, and Besu doesn’t want to feel left out, so the two begin some light banter. Ken breaks it up by giving his two puppets a glare, then he makes them bow their heads, as if they felt bad. You stifle a laugh at the scene before you, happy that you got your own mini show. Ken’s smile slightly grows, and his mother notices, so she tries to give him a little push.
“How about you two go hang out for a while? We’ve got everything covered here, and that’s the last show of the night. As long as Ken’s home by 8:30.”
You bring your hands together to play with the hem of your sleeve, feeling bad about taking her kid away for a bit.
“I don’t mind helping if you’d like?”
“Don’t worry about it, you two go have fun!”
The two of you stand in silence as his mom leaves. Ken’s not sure if he should be frustrated or thankful that his mom just threw him right outside his comfort zone, but either way, he’s stuck with you now.
You check the time on your phone, 6:07.
“We’ve got a couple hours, is there anywhere you’d like to go? Or… We are already at the mall, if you’d like to just walk around?”
Ken admits through Besu that he never really got to check out the mall. You’ve lived in this city your whole life, which means you know this mall quite well. You’re quick to drag him, metaphorically, to your favorite stores that you think he’d like. The two of you find some stickers you like, some shirts, and anything else you find interesting that’s also reasonably priced. You surprise him with a keychain of a cartoon-y dog that looks an awful lot like Besu. He looks happy to receive it, Besu doing a little dance while holding it between his little paws, but Keru crosses his arms and huffs.
You turn around to show him a keychain that you already had attached to your bag, which resembled Keru. Keru’s attitude quickly changes, remarking that he’s the better one because you have his keychain. He and Besu get into another small fight, and you’re once again reminded of Ken’s amazing skill as a ventriloquist.
The night flies by, but you’ve definitely gotten more comfortable with each other. This time, you didn’t forget to exchange contact information, so now you two can plan meet-up times. Once you wave goodbye to Ken, he stands in the middle of the quiet mall, feeling the same way you did after your first meeting. He’s never had a friend before, and he’s deciding that he’d be happy to have you as his first.
.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
For the next few months, the two of you began hanging out outside of class. You introduce him to places you enjoy, finding out that he really likes this one clear opening in the woods not too far from your home. You went once during the day, finally trusting him enough to show him your special comfort spot. There are lots of flowers, and you even added fairy lights and a few blankets to lay on, thanks to your mom. When moving the branches away from your face and holding them away for Ken, you explain that you like to come here when you want a break from reality, or to just enjoy nature as it is.
“People are always so bombarded with lights, buildings, cars, loud noises, and the like, so we don’t often get to have 'us' time. It’s much prettier at night, we should try to convince your mom to let you stay out a bit later one night. Maybe on a weekend?”
“We often have lots of plays on the weekends, but I think our first one for next Sunday is later in the day, so if we go next Saturday night after the play it should work.” He still uses his puppets to speak, and you still love them just as much as the first day they spoke to you. They are really cute and fun, after all.
“Alright, a week and a half from now, then! Don’t forget!” Ken nods, excited to see what this place looks like at night. It seems you put lots of care into the surrounding area.
.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
The next day, you had planned to meet up after school. At the end of your last class of the day, you get a text from your favorite ventriloquist saying his club is having an emergency meeting. You were really hoping to hang out with him, and you wouldn’t mind if there are other people around, so you ask if his club would be okay with you lingering around. He thinks about it, and figured that his friends wouldn’t mind, so the two of you meet up and you follow him to the roof.
You quietly follow behind him, a little nervous about meeting his friends. You wouldn’t usually be like this, but these are Ken’s friends, so there was a good chance you’d be seeing them time and time again. 
The first one to pep up is a boy with short, blond hair, he seems to be pretty eccentric. His energy is really fun and he gives off good vibes, it feels like being around him could put you in a better mood overall, which is nice. You wave at him after he points you out, and he gives you a bright grin. You notice Shu nod at you, you’re surprised he must have remembered you. The next to speak is a shorter boy with dark blue hair, and it’s a little hard to make out what he’s saying thanks to how fast he’s talking. Something about asking if you’re Ken’s friend, then about blading.
What was that about blading? It seems the friend group quieted down after he asked you the question, also wanting an answer. Noticing your lost expression, the blondie from earlier repeats his friend’s question.
“Do you do any beyblading?”
You could tell them, but you don’t like it when your name gets out there.
“Not that much.”
“But you have a bey?”
“...Yeah.”
The blue-haired boy is quick to challenge you to a battle, but you’re not really feeling up to it. You’re not a big fan of showing off your skills to any unnecessary opponents. You don’t also want to make a fool of yourself. The ‘meeting’ goes on, and they discuss an upcoming tournament. The plan for this meeting is just to battle. They introduce themselves to you one by one, then decide that they’re going to do a tournament-style set of battles. They don’t have enough players for it to start out evenly, though. They manage to convince you to join, and you agree on the condition that you get to battle Ken in the first round. It’s the only way you’d be able to hold back.
Anyone else and you’d end up with a quick and effortless burst finish.
Valt’s up first against Honcho- or Rantaro, you’re not sure which name to use since he introduced himself as Honcho, but all the others called him Rantaro. You’re surprised at how much skill is shown before you, you may have underestimated these players. Not like it matters, though. It’s then Shu against Daigo, and you already know the outcome before it starts. Finally, you end up against Ken.
You both take your positions, and you opt to not do any strength-inducing launches, so you keep it basic. You already know exactly how this match is going to do. Your eyes flicker up from the stadium to Ken, and he looks really focused on where he intends to send his bey. He makes it all too obvious that he’s going straight to the center. You barely give the launch 15% of your power, and you let him win with a survivor finish.
As if you’d have the heart to hurt him - Well, his ego. You congratulate him on the win, and remind the gang that you don’t blade that much, with a hand stretching the back of your head and a half-smile.
“No worries! At least now our tournament can continue!”
You lean back on the bench, examining the players’ battle styles. You focus mainly on Ken’s of course, and he’s a lot stronger than you had anticipated. You watch the battle between him and Valt, the underdog pulling through. It almost looked like a stroke of complete luck that he’d won against Ken, but as much as you’d like to say that, an experienced blader’s eyes like yours could catch the hidden skill that Valt has.
He comes and sits beside you, encouraging his friends. You tag along, rooting for them. Daigo sits on the other side of you, since there isn’t anywhere else to sit and his legs are tired. The two of you don’t exchange any words, but you gain a mutual respect for each other. You like his style, and he approves of you as Ken’s friend, you seem like a good pair to him. He won’t say that aloud, though.
That weekend, Ken calls you to see if you can hang out. You try your best to never turn him down, even ditching plans just to hang out with him, but you’ve got a battle in a tournament that you can’t miss. You feel bad about it, but it can’t be helped. You tell him that you’re busy, and he assures you that it’s alright and he’ll just go watch his friends battle.
.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
You throw on your hood and a cloth facemask, adjusting the elastics on the sides to be comfortable. This mask is really breathable, and has a cool design that consists of two rows of cartoony sharp teeth. It’s perfect for concealing your identity while you blade.
Your opponent is already up on stage when you walk up, Hanami announcing you as the Mysterious blader, only known as X. You take a glance at the crowd, there seems to be more people showing up at your battles as time goes on. You refuse to go easy when it comes to important battles, so you steady your arms and plant your feet for maximum power.
3, 2, 1, LET IT RIP!
The crowd cheers, and your hood slips down from the force of your launch. That’s why the mask is important. The hand resting next to your hips subtly brings up three fingers. Then it hides one. One left. As you bring down your index, the opponent’s bey bursts. Six seconds, it seems you were feeling generous today.
Another quick glance at the crowd was intended only to observe their reaction, but your eyes caught someone unexpected. He wasn’t supposed to be here. The puppets on his hands seemed to be as surprised as him, their mouths wide open. Before he can make any sort of movement as your eyes linger on him, you shuffle over to the changing room. You try to be subtle when you leave, checking around corners before walking past, but that someone still manages to find you. He runs up to you, hugging you excitedly, but still gently, from behind, having Besu voice his excitement.
“I knew it was you!”
Keru’s quick to add on,
“Why didn’t ya go all out against Ken, though? You’re a really strong blader!”
You take a quick look around, making sure that nobody else is in the area before taking off the mask and hoodie.
“I wanna keep it on the down low. Getting challenged left and right isn’t too fun. And I didn’t have the heart to go all out.”
The last part was muttered, but Ken heard it. He chose to ignore it, though.
“You don’t enjoy lots of battles?” Besu sounded like he was a mix of sad and curious.
“Well, I’ll be honest, I underestimated your friends. I didn’t think they’d be fun to battle, but I might just have to one of these days. I’ll only do it in a competition, though.”
Ken nods, then stands still for a second. It seems there’s a lot running through his mind. His smile grows all of a sudden, and he hugs you again.
“We need to battle for real sometime, okay?”
You embrace the hug, then let go, with your hands still on his hips. You nod, agreeing to it. You may not have the heart to go all out right away, but you’re sure that if you do it enough, one day you two could have a really all-out, fun battle. The two of you have to go separate ways since it’s dinner time, but not before you promise to battle him often.
As you walk off, he finds himself staring at you in amazement. That opponent surely wasn’t weak, you were already a couple of rounds deep in the tournament. He had come to watch the previous battle, which featured Valt, but ended up staying because he was curious about Valt’s possible future opponents. He had gotten quite the reality check instead, realizing how awesome his friend is. Yeah…friend. 
That moment, Ken makes a big decision: 'That’s going to have to change. Next weekend.'
.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
The next couple of days go by as usual, having lunch with the beyclub, and hanging out with Ken a couple of times throughout the week. Although, It’s hard to miss the way he seems to slowly inch closer to you when he’s near you, or how he may have messaged you a little more often than usual, asking how you were or if you remembered to eat. 
But Tuesday, that all stopped. He went quiet. You didn’t receive a 'Good morning, see you at school!' text. He didn’t have Besu pitch into the conversation, nor did he have Keru butt in with any snarky remarks during the beyclub battles after school. He still answered when spoken to, but he seemed very… out of it. Dazed? Like he had something else on his mind. You were worried about him, especially since you planned on hanging out with him in a couple of days. You have been planning this late-night meeting for a while now, and you really hoped that he still intended on coming.
But he didn’t move away when you moved closer to him, and he didn’t flinch when you put your hand in his and rubbed your thumb against it. You wanted him to know that you’d be there for him, no matter what. You wanted to so badly tell him that you- no. That can wait.
.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
The night finally came. The sun was almost done setting, and Ken still hadn’t made it to your house yet. Now this was getting worrying. After debating for a few minutes, you finally sent him a text.
[“Hey, we’re still on tonight, right?”]
[“Of course, I’m on my way.”]
You let out a sigh of relief, unsure of why you ever doubted him. Of course you could trust him, he was the person that you were closest to, the person you cared about the most. 
You look up from your dark phone screen when you hear hurried footsteps. Ken speaks through Besu, telling you that his mom wanted help deep-cleaning the house. You give him a nod, and you gently grab his hand, (you grab Keru?), and lead him to your favorite clearing. You move the branches away, being careful as to not let them smack Ken when you let go.
Ken doesn’t notice that you two have made it to the clearing until you announce it, probably because the fairy lights weren’t on. You lead him to the blanket, getting him to make himself comfortable before finally turning on the lights with a “ta-daaa~”
You had meant for all this to feel a little silly, wanting to get rid of the tense atmosphere, but you immediately saw just about every worry leave Ken’s eyes as the lights flickered on. It’s like he was finally made aware of how dreamy the world could be, and it almost seemed as if his eyes twinkled when they met yours. 
Must have just been the lights. 
You sit beside him, eventually deciding to lie down once your arms got too strained from holding yourself up. The only thing filling the silence was the quiet buzzing of any nearby bugs, and the crickets. Ken let himself fall from his sitting position not too long after you did, and he was quick to pull you close to him. Impossibly close, even, as he had your head laying on his chest.
He’s never been this bold before, and you can easily tell that he’s nervous with how hard his heart is beating. You snuggle closer, if possible, and you’re almost on the brink of falling asleep. Before you can though, the fairy lights die out, allowing you to see the infinite amount of stars above you. There’s no better time than now.
“Hey.”
Ken slightly adjusts his head so his eyes can meet yours, but you don’t share his glance.
“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”
His breath hitches. You catch the way his chest no longer moves up and down, and your lips waver, afraid you may have made a mistake. He most definitely understood what was implied, his reaction making it a dead giveaway. 
It’s silent for what feels like hours, the only thing breaking it being his uneven breath. Then, his light sobs. You immediately half-sit up, focusing all your attention on Ken. 
There’s a big, strained smile on his face, the kind that only shows when you’re the last person trying to convince yourself that everything’s alright. It begins to fade, and tears only begin to fall faster when you envelop him in a hug. He hugs you tighter, tighter than he ever has before, almost like he’s afraid to lose you. No, as if he’s afraid to leave you. 
You back off by a couple inches when his weak hold finally allows it, and you bring a hand up to wipe one of the many tears from his cheek. You eventually have to courage to raise enough for Ken to hear.
“Ken…did I say something wrong? I never meant to hurt you, I’m so sorry-”
“It’s not your fault that you loved me.”
You both sit in silence. Your hand weakly starts to weigh itself down, away from his face, while he avoids any kind of eye contact. This was the first time you heard his voice.
“I…I don’t want to leave. I can’t just leave you, you mean so much to me!”
He begins to ramble, and it starts to become hard to understand him when the tears come right back.
“Ken, my love, I’d never leave you. What makes you think-”
“No, no, my family. My family’s puppet shows are making me travel. I have to change schools. I have to leave. I have to leave you.”
.
.
.
“Oh.”
That’s what that meant. 
He’s leaving. 
You may never see each other again.
“...When?”
“I need to start packing tomorrow. I also need to tell the bey club.”
You nod absentmindedly, you mind trying to come up with any possible, futile ways to keep him here. When nothing useful comes up, you slowly reach your hands around his torso and lay down. He allows it.
He can feel a wet spot form on his shirt, but he only embraces you tighter. He strokes your hair as gently as he can, resisting the urge to burst out into tears again. It’s much harder when the love of his life is past that point, lying on his chest, and there isn’t much else he can do as comfort.
.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
You awake the next morning to rays of sunshine crossing your face, and you groggily attempt to sit up, but the arms wrapped around you won’t allow it. You quickly recognize the fluffy, black hair you grew so used to, and the area in the woods that you loved so much. That was all you needed as confirmation that no, none of what had happened was a dream. Your eyes want to well up again, but your body refuses, still tired from last night.
Finally, Ken’s grip loosens a bit when he takes in the situation as well, but it quickly tightens again when the two of you are sat back up.
“Don’t you still have to tell the beyclub?”
“...Yeah.”
Ken makes no effort to move until you do, grabbing his hand and letting him take the lead to wherever he had planned on meeting the club. Before he turned the corner, he takes a deep breath in and plasters the usual smile on his face. You hadn’t let go of his hand, so he currently only has Besu on. 
You don’t plan on letting go any time soon.
Xander ends up interrupting the beyclub, and you all find yourselves at the Shakadera Dojo, the Beyclub battling the Swordflames. Halfway through the team battles, Daigo finally speaks up about something being off about Ken, and he slips his hand out of yours, swiftly making his way out of the dojo. You follow the beyclub, finally ending up at the top of a cliff, where they question Ken. 
You know it hurts. 
It hurts, even more, to say it out loud.
“Want me to tell them?”
He quickly looks your way, and his face is mixed with surprise, panic, sadness, and many other emotions. A slight nod towards you, and you somehow manage to utter out the words that Ken couldn’t. Only once it came to the part about him not wanting to leave could he finally speak up, and you could tell his eyes were starting to gloss over again, same as yours. It almost seemed as if a heavy weight was taken off his shoulders, only to be replaced with a heavier one. The clear emotions being shown by his friends didn’t help, and that made him want to get away as soon as possible.
Not paying attention to his surroundings, the rock beneath him crumbles, making him slip. He closes his eyes, preparing for the worst.
He opens his eyes to see your face, jam-packed with adrenaline. You pull him back up thanks to the help of the beyclub, and the two of you sit for a second, trying to comprehend everything that just happened. 
Then, Daigo lays out the idea that everyone will still be friends no matter where you are. That gives the rest of the club hope, and Ken’s eyes fill with determination. The two of you stand up, and you piggy-back off off Daigo’s idea, assuring him that you’ll be there for him no matter where you are. 
You refuse to let go of his hand once again, up until he has to get into the truck to make his way to his new home.
“Hey, don’t forget to shoot me a text anytime, okay?” 
Your nerves are getting the better of you, but Ken reassures you that he’ll keep in contact. He pulls you in for one last hug.
He doesn’t let go until his mom calls to him, and even then he waits another minute.
“I love you. And distance won’t change that. Don’t get hung up on me, though, go enjoy life.”
You let out a sad chuckle,
“As if I could ever move on. I’ll still love you, even with the distance.”
One last deep breath and he gets in the truck that begins to drive off.
The beyclub members shout their last goodbyes and you give the last word;
“Be safe, Love!”
May.21.23
87 notes · View notes
mistressemmedi · 8 months ago
Note
bro theres smth in the water or smth when the wc or ec is on. we're not playing til sunday and the whole town is already covered in orange banners and flags.
Tumblr media
Meme applies to the whole of Europe really
12 notes · View notes
doinggreat · 3 months ago
Text
why are yall stressing over nations league. since when is it that important. international breaks when its not ec or wc are for reconnecting with nature, seeing your friends and catching up on all the tv series!!!!
4 notes · View notes