#also I am gonna ask the oldest to teach me how to draw on my iPad again

[superbattrash]

Going to get my blood work done and then it’s a 2 hour drive to see the kiddos (which will be amazing and exhausting and awesome obviously)

But that also means I get to see @princesskazuya toMORROWWWWWWW

[maethegay]

Make up

A/n: I am no good at skincare, make up or fashion but I tried gang please forgive also this is way longer than I thought it was gonna be oops.

I grew up with two parents in the army and my two older brothers. We moved around a lot I never really made friends moving every few months or even years made it hard.

I was also incredibly socially awkward so that didn’t help when it came to making friends. I had my brothers and basketball to me that was enough.

I was six when my dad got me my first basketball. He taught me a few things and I became obsessed. Every day after school I’d go to the court near my house and spend hours dribbling and shooting. Some times my brothers came but they had their own things.

Caleb my oldest brother made friends super easy he always managed to have a group of people around him. And Adam my younger brother liked soccer. He tried to teach me to play but it was not for me.

Anyway due to the fact I struggled to make friends and the only people I talked to where my parents and brothers I never learned how to do anything with make up or fashion.

Not that I didn’t try. Whenever I did I ended up looking like a little boy. I did prefer a more masculine dress but I could never find an outfit that fit me. I am ashamed to admit but I do have more than one Nike tech outfit in my closet.

When Geno recruited me from UConn it was like a dream. I first got to the team and I was so awkward but Nika helped. She sat down right next to me and started talking.

She was my first friend and she helped me make friends on the team. And in class and on campus.

Now I was in my last year of college. Me and Nika had been dating for over two years and I had more friends than I thought possible.

My head rested on her chest, her hand gently tangling through my hair. My hand rested on her stomach drawing shapes against her soft skin.

Everything was perfect except one thing. I never really felt pretty. I wanted to do make up and dress how I would think looks good. But whenever I try I just get turned around and confused.

Nika was good at fashion and makeup she always looked good. I had thought about asking her so many times to help me. But it was something I never really knew how to bring up.

Another part of me never bringing it up was pressure from past relationships. When I had tried to do this stuff with past relationships and I had been told no cause ‘Mascs shouldn’t care about that stuff’.

Obviously now being with Nika I know those relationships were toxic but I still couldn’t get rid of the thoughts.But Nika was different I knew she wouldn’t get upset.

“Ni?” I murmur pulling away slightly to look at her. She smiled softly and brushed my hair from my face. “Can you help me with like fashion and stuff. I know I don’t really act like I care but I wanna feel pretty sometimes to ya know.”

Nika gave me a giddy smile cupping my face in her hand. She had asked to do my makeup and skincare before but as you know internalized hate from my exs made me to scared.

“Of course. Tomorrow 8am I’m taking you on a shopping spree and for tonight baby we’re doing skincare.”

I smiled and took her hand dragging her to the bathroom. I jumped up onto the counter and looked at her as she grabbed a bunch of stuff and put it on the counter.

“Frog head band or shark,” she said showing me two fluffy head bands.

“Shark obviously.” I say snatching the head band from her left hand. She smiled and put on the other.

“Now this is definitely not something to do every night. But it is fun once every now and then.” I nod an watch her grab the first bottle turn out this first bottle was like one of a million things we would be doing.

After like 7 other steps she put a face mask on me. I made the horrible mistake of licking my lips.

“Ew Nika this tastes horrible.” I say as I spit in the sink which did not make the horrible soapy taste leave my mouth. Nika laughed and kissed my lips.

“You’re not supposed to get in your mouth.” She laughed and she pulled off the mask. She used a washcloth and rubbed of the extra residue.

There were a few more steps and I was practically falling asleep by the time Nika was done. I smiled leaning my head against her shoulder. I still sat on the counter, Nikas hand scratched my back and she kissed my head.

“Come on baby. Big day tomorrow.” She said, her hands slid under my thighs and lifted me off the counter. I wrapped my arms around her neck.

Nika always made me feel safe and comfortable. She helped me break down my shell and let me feel like I could be well a girl.

She carried me over to the bed and laid me down pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I love you Nika,” I mumble as I close my eyes pulling our blanket up to cover my face.

“I love you too. I’m glad you feel safe with me.” She said laying behind me. Her hand grabbed my hip and pulled me into her my back colliding with her front.

“Mhm,” I mumble as Nika’s hands dipped under my shirt to trace more shapes on my torso. It’s something she had always done and something I had always loved.

I woke up before Nika she slept comfortably I smiled and pulled her close to me. I held her close to me. My hand gently scratching her back.

I leaned back and looked at the clock it was only 6:30 and I decided I’d let her sleep in awhile longer. I was comfortable and the feeling of the brunette’s body against mine was perfect.

I still struggled to believe she was mine. The Croatian who laid in front of me was simply unfathomable to my mind.

She was actual perfection. She was beautiful, her silky brown hair and big brown doe eyes. She was hilarious without even trying. She so was determined I’ve never seen someone work so hard.

I heard a whine come softly from her mouth, that was how I knew she was walking up. I kissed her head and looked down her big eyes looking at me.

Nika was not a morning person she whines and shut her eyes slamming her head into my chest. I laughed tangling my hand in her hair holding her head against my chest.

“We gotta go shopping baby. Pretty me up and shit,” I whisper, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. She looked up and me glaring slightly.

“You’re already pretty. You just dress like a 10 year old boy.” She said her voice strong with her accent. I smiled and laughed with her. “I’m going to call my parents and then love we’re going shopping.”

“Ok baby,” I say leaning back in the pillows as Nika got up and walked to the bathroom. She always got ready while she talked to her parents.

I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, eventually I fell back asleep. I didn’t even know until I heard Nika laughing her ass off. I peeled my eyes opened and glared at her.

“What is so funny,” I said my voice cracking since I had just woke up again. She laughed and turned her phone to me.

It was a picture of me. Not only was I knocked out asleep, but my mouth was wide open and had hair all over the place.

“Nika Muhl you better delete that,” I say reaching for her phone she turned away pulling it to her chest.

“But you’re so cute,” she said sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. She leans down and kisses my lips.

“You better not show no one that,” I mutter as I stumble to the bathroom. I promptly get ready, brushing my hair and teeth and pulling on some baggy jeans and a white tee. “I’m ready to go shopping,” I say jumping out of the bathroom and looking at Nika who laid on our now made bed.

She looked up from her phone and smiled at me. I walked over and leaned slightly forward again for bed frame.

“I’m so excited. And I ordered Starbucks for while we shop so we need to pick it up.” She tells me grabbing her purse from the night stand. I push myself up and take her hand in mine

We had decided to take Nika’s car since it was better on gas and much smaller than my truck so leaving after shopping at that mall which would be almost certainly packed since it was Saturday would be easier.

I insisted on driving even though she had volunteered. Nika wants to drive most of the time and I’m not complaining but I felt useless if I didn’t. She was planning the whole day to help me the least I could do was drive.

We made a quick stop at the Starbucks just off campus and I ran inside to grab me and Nika’s drinks. She got a matcha of some sort and she had order my favorite drink for me.

The drive to the mall we had decided to go to, well Nika decided we go to was about an hour away from campus. Hence us waking up early to go. We left around 9 so we’d get there just as the shops open.

I’m not one for crowds so going when it’s first opening when there are less people is for the better.

The whole drive Nika’s hand rested on my thigh. We talked now and again about school, and she told me how her family was doing back in Croatian. We spoke about my oldest brothers wedding which was coming up in about 2 months and how we still needed to get Nika a dress.

We reached the mall, the parking lot was slowly filling up but not full enough to where we couldn’t find a spot.

“Where to first?” I ask, usually I only went to a store or two. Most of what I wore was the same plain shirt is 2 dozen colors, sweat pants and jeans.

“Well I made a pin board while we drove. It’s just some things I think look good and we could see what you like or don’t like.” She leaned over showing me her phone which somehow had 100 pins.

I nodded and told her which things I liked and didn’t like. I didn’t care for the shoulderless shirts, or the random flannels or extra unbuttoned shirts that were different color.

Nika didn’t seem offended when I said things she just nodded, removed the pin and moved on asking if I liked the next outfit.

I found I liked the baggier pants, and jorts especially with baggy shirts. Which I also helped me find I liked graphic tees and when they had long sleeves under.

Nika told me I liked streetwise aesthetic which i didn’t really get but I nodded along anyway.

Nika lead me into like 7 different stores where I managed to try on 20 different things every time. I didn’t like everything some shirts were to boxy and some of the pants drooped to low for my liking.

There were some things I loved though and after the first few stores of the day my arms were full of bags.

I was happy but damn was I tired. I flopped down on a bench and rested my head on Nika’s stomach as she stood in front of me. She laughed and ran her hand up and down my back.

“How are you feeling,” she asked as I looked up at her.

“Girl I am so tired,” I groan “How do people do this for fun?” I ask leaning my head back. A laugh fell from Nika’s lips.

I loved when she laughed. Sometimes I just talked about dumb stuff because I knew Nika would laugh. It was so perfect every time. I think it was one of the first things I fell in love with about her.

“Admit it you were having funny when you were trying things on.” She said as she set a few of my bags down on the ground next to us. I smiled and looked back at her.

“Yeah I guess it was kinda fun playing dress up.” I smile and kiss her temple. “Where to next?” I ask picking up the bags.

“Let’s go drop these off at the car. And the take a quick trip to Sephora and maybe Ulta.” she said, I nodded and followed behind her to the car. We loaded everything in the trunk and a few bags in the back seat.

Nika took my hand and lead me into the store. This was what I was most nervous about. At least I kinda understood clothes makeup did not make sense. Sure I have watched Nika do her make up hundreds of times but none of it made sense.

“I don’t think we’re gonna get foundation I know you don’t like having to much on your face.” She said as she pulled me towards the concealer.

“You’re right. I would feel like I’m wearing face paint all the time.” I agree as I follow behind her. Her eyes looked between the seemingly dozens of different concealers.

She would look at me and the back and the concealer. She would grab one then look at me again and grab another one. She had about six different shades after a few minutes. If you asked me it was excessive but than again I’m not a makeup person.

“Give me your wrist.” Nika said with an outstretched hand. I reached out my arm so she could test the concealer. She did a swatch and then would tell me about how it was too orange or too light.

To be honest I zoned out and just thought about how cute her voice was and how concentrated she looked as she compared the different colors to my skin. God she’s cute.

“I think this one will be good. Don’t you love?” She said pointing to the fifth swatch on my arm. I looked down and sure enough it blended into my skin quite well.

“Oh that’s nice.” My eyes trailed the rest of my arm “I kinda look like a zebra.” I say twisting my arm in the light, she laughs softly and puts the concealers away minus the one I was getting of course.

“Let’s get some blush, mascara, eyelash curler, eye brow gel and a brush. And ooo primer. We can just get you the kind I like. And then you already have a collection of summer Fridays so we’re good there.”

90% of what Nika has just said didn’t make sense to me. Summer Fridays did though. For some reason I tried Nika’s one time and fell in love with it. I had every flavor minus the mint one. I don’t like mint.

We bought the rest of the stuff and holy shit was make up expensive. Nika also explained to me I can’t just get make up wipes I should use micellar water so make up doesn’t get in my pores.

We drove home. Nika drove this time while I slept in the passenger seat for some reason I could play an entire basketball game running up and down the court but shopping wore me out like a bitch.

Eventually we got home and I ended up sitting on the counter again Nika standing between my legs.

“Can’t we do this tomorrow?” I groan laying my head on her shoulder. It was 4pm there was really no point of putting on makeup. She smiled and wrapped her arms around me.

“I suppose so… but make up is so fun. Trust me baby.” I nod and think it over for a moment.

“Alright. Pretty me up pretty girl.” I say leaning back and resting on my hands.

“Ok this is primer. It makes it easy for makeup to be applied basically.” She says, as she puts a few drops on my face. She gently rubs it into my face.

“It feels sticky,” I murmur.

“Then concealer. You put this over discoloration eye bags really anything you want to cover up. Here.” She hands it to me and i but small swatch’s under my eyes and a a few other places.

Nika takes one of the brushes we bought and blended in into my skin, blush filler next, then she did my eyes brows an eye lashes.

Fun fact you’re not supposed to close your eyes when you curl your eye lashes. The more you know know I guess.

I hoped off the counter and looked in the mirror. I smiled, I felt pretty. Nikas stood behind me arms wrapped around my waist her head resting on my shoulder.

“You look beautiful my love. Not because of the make up, there’s just this energy radiating off of you.” She says as she kisses my cheek.

“Thank you Nika. For everything.”

[writersprocrastinators]

Introduction!

Hi yall! Name is Bell F. Archer, but you can call me Archie and I'm a writer who has decided to make a blog for my work! I've never made one of these so here we go!

I post mostly on Instagram under @writersprocrastinators but I hope to post longer works here, updates on my WIPs, any random prompt I see, and hopefully receive tons of asks and prompt requests. I'm 26 living in the US, I enjoy many different TV shows, but I loved shows like Chuck, Bones, Castle, most of the MCU works, iZombie, Family Guy, the 100, Wynona Earp, Motherland: Fort Salem, Lucifer, ATLA, Walking dead universe, honestly the list is never ending it would be easier if yall asked if I've seen it and I'll say yes or no lol. Hope you enjoy this intro!

I'll follow your accounts from this account seeing as its my only and main account.

I however will not follow if you're under 18, or if you have no age on your blog. As another warning, this blog will contain some material that may not be suitable for underage viewers, nothing too intense but better safe than sorry. I am not responsible if you read something you should not have, and all mature content will be marked as such!

♤ About me ♤

I'm relatively new to setting up a blog on Tumblr for this purpose so if there's any tips, please send them my way!

I like fictional works ranging from crime dramas, romance, fantasy, and others like dystopian works. Honestly, I don't read nearly as much as I could, but I write a lot and enjoy fan fictions! I find fan writing to be fun to read because the writing styles tend to feel very different between all writers, for the same base content. Reading each authors twists on a particular moment is pretty inspiring! It's hard to explain, but I I love to read it, but I don't particularly write it and would love to chat about it! I'm always looking to follow blogs that post anything writing related.

♤About this blog♤

This blogs purpose is for any and all of my writings/poems/stories and whatever else I write. I'll hopefully start doing some OC introductions, world building, or any art that can connect to my works. For example, one of my WIPs has a map that I've been working on, and I've also been trying to teach myself how to draw in order to draw the OCs out (it's very hard and I'm having a hard time lol).

I'm open to asks, prompts, questions, and messages, but do keep it respectful, I don't find wasting my time to be something I enjoy. If you have any advice or recommendations please also let me know! If you'd like something written for you, in a fictional sense not an essay or something lol, I will gladly look into it!

All writing done here is entirely my own, written by me and for me. Please do not copy my work anywhere else © copyright notice is below and on this page. I hate that I even have to say this, but people steal content so often and I just dont want the headache.

♤How my writings will work♤

Not all of my work is connected, but a lot of them are part of the same "series", specifically the poems are. They’ll be tagged as the same series. The WIPs are not connected, but they both have tons of similar callbacks and subtle author references.

Most of the poems are within a part of a series, and the characters for the "conversations" are generally the same people unless I say otherwise.

♤What you can expect to see♤

On this blog you can expect to see plenty of poetry, prose, short works, and maybe even excerpts of my WIPS. Let me know what you prefer to see!

♤About my WIPS♤

Whatever Means Necessary (working title)

This is a crime drama fiction, that is by far my oldest work. It's got a dash of romance but for this one it's less and more subtle, due to its nature. Part 2 has a bit more of it, but that WIP is very far from happening. It's been in progress since 2011 about, and I have yet to finish it, hence the procrastinators part. This one is about 3-5 chapters from being done! Its all the editing that's gonna get me.

I would rate this as a new adult fiction.

Some tropes in WMN are spies, futuristic weapons, angst, life changing family news, discovering family, family nemesis, casual drug and alcohol use, slow burn (like glacial), found family, betrayal, symbolism, and besties.

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, attempted SA, death, cursing, sexual scenarios

Fallen (working title)

This is a fantasy/dystopian & adventure fiction that is newer and has many more moving parts, lore, descriptions and OCs. This one is not even close to being fully written out, but is plotted out fairly well. I learned my mistake with no outline this time around.

I would rate this again, as a new adult fiction. But too mature for young adult, not quite mature enough to be adult.

Some tropes in Fallen are enhanced human abilities, zombie-esque creatures, mythical creatures and beings, monsters, reinvented military, dystopian governments, utopian governments, romance, not so slow slow burn, extreme angst, character death, defying destiny, defying fate, mental health exploration, race discussions and combating aggressions, found family, gender and sexuality exploration, positions of power, morally grey characters, betrayal, and symbolism.

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, mentions and attempts of SA, major and side character death, cursing, sexual scenarios, murder, illness, heavy casual drug and alcohol use. This work is considerably grittier.

Hope you enjoyed the Intro! First post is coming within the next few days!

Have a beautiful one, Bell.

© Bell F. Archer, Tumblr and writersprocrastinators, 2024.

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday

Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain

Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)

Word count: 4,818

(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.

“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”

“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”

Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”

“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.

Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself. 

“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”

“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”

You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win. 

“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”

“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”

“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!” 

You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”

“Oh, about that Annie…”

“God, what now (y/n)?”

“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”

The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”

“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”

“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”

“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”

You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”

“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them. 

“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”

They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.

You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points. 

“Alright class, pull out your homework!”

Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders. 

The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.

Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”

“Come up to the board and solve this.”

Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed. 

“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough. 

The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”

“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”

“Are you su-”

“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”

Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once. 

You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”

It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”

“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”

You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”

“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed. 

“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”

The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.

You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation. 

When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out. 

You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history. 

You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test. 

You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test. 

You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them. 

You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain. 

By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match. 

The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump. 

You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down. 

Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”

She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did. 

Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly. 

“Yea-”

“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.

Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”

“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them. 

Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly. 

After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”

“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”

“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.

You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”

Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”

Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”

You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home. 

You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out. 

You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot. 

He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!” 

You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually. 

“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”

You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”

Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”

“My back and the back of my head.”

“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.

“What, is it bad?”

“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”

“Damn.”

“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”

“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”

“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”

“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”

“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”

You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”

“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”

He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”

You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”

You sighed, “when needed.”

He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”

“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”

He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”

He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.

“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.

You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.

When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp. 

You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.

“(Y/n), coat.”

You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered 

Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders. 

Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations. 

The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all. 

The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better. 

The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.

You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you. 

“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest. 

“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears. 

Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.” 

She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient. 

You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”

You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back. 

“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”

You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang. 

“Did you hurt your shoulder?”

“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”

“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”

You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”

He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway. 

You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

[ti-bae-rius]

My thoughts on sex in YA books

Aka I will be furious if people use this to paint me maliciously.

CW for sex, genitalia mentions, HIV/AIDS mentions, masturbation, brief discussion of my personal experience of grooming

Prefaces: I don’t support underage sex. I don’t support sexualising minors. I had some very gross experiences as a teenager I wouldn’t want to happen to other people.

So, I’m currently in training with a charity to become a sex educator in U.K. schools. This means I’m the person who comes in, with a dildo and a condom, and shows you how to wrap up. This can happen from any age and we obviously tailor the experience to the age we’re teaching. We teach primary school kids the words for their genitals, how to practise consent in non-sexual scenarios. We also teach senior school young people that sex isn’t the way it looks in porn, that condoms are important for sex even if it isn’t penises in vaginas, and lots of other stuff.

I’m particularly invested because, for disabled and queer kids, this is a really unhelpful practise mostly. Most PSHE classes are like “penis goes in vagina, wear a condom or you’ll get pregnant” or, if you went to a school like mine “don’t have sex before marriage. Google pictures of STDs (yes they still called them that) and scare yourself out of having sex forever”.

So what we tend to use as a way of talking to young people is the media; books, shows, films, anything that we can show them that will promote a healthy discussion and make it accessible to them. We use a combination of all these to craft individual lessons for different age groups.

We talk about the realism and influence of porn, laws around sexting, and portrayals of sex in the media. A show that proves very popular with older kids (though we don’t show it to them as it’s an 18 and we only show 15 rated movies as the highest rating to our oldest students) is Sex Education.

Oh my god Sex Ed has helped SO many of our young people. Would I recommend it to 12 year olds? No, obviously not. But for the 16-18 year olds, it’s not unusual for one of them to bring up Sex Education.

If you asked my generation, or people a little older than me, they’d probably point to Judy Blume books as their own “Sex Education”. For people who don’t know, Blume wrote YA books that covered topics like menstruation, masturbation, and sexuality. Her books have been banned A LOT because of this.

There’s a really excellent old video from John Green (yeah yeah I know people don’t like him on tumblr but it’s an excellent video so) called I Am Not a Pornographer about the banning of his book Looking for Alaska.

This is all to say that it’s not uncommon for us to ban books that are aimed at teenagers that include sex. And what effect does that have? Overwhelmingly, not a great one. In training, we’re shown case studies of children who have had allegations of sexual misconduct ignored because they’ve used obscure words for their genitalia that parents have taught them to be polite. We have girls (SO MANY GIRLS) look appalled at the idea they might masturbate because that’s a BOY thing, that’s what BOYS do, we can’t do that - that’s dirty! We have people who don’t know that condoms aren’t just for penis-in-vagina sex. We have so much misunderstanding. Why? We expose children to the wrong kinds of sexuality.

Young people will find sexual material. That’s a fact. It’s online everywhere. Most easily-accessible porn is not ethically made nor made to show real people having real sex in a healthy manner. But that’s most people’s first example of sex.

If we condemn sexuality in YA books, we put young people at massive risk. I’m not saying let’s put some nipple clamps in Percy Jackson and have Harry Potter be really into BDSM. What I’m saying is that young people need to see healthy, respectful, consensual relationships in books. We need books that show consent as something that isn’t inherently sexual.

The first book I read where I saw a condom being used in sex between two people with penises was in Running With Lions by Julian Winters.

The first show I saw where autistic people were shown to have sex drives was Everything’s Gonna Be Okay.

We can’t shelter young people from sex. We’ve done that, and what’s happened? We’ve had generations of people who refuse to talk about it, and have unwittingly endangered not only themselves but others.

I’m a trainee sex educator and I didn’t know about undetectable = untransmittable until I read Full Disclosure - a YOUNG ADULT book about a teen who is HIV positive.

I was at risk because of this. I let people who had no right to my body and my emotions manipulate me because I didn’t know any better. I wasn’t taught any better. I went to a Christian school where all I knew was sex could hurt me. So when an older adult showed me affection, who could blame me for assuming it was fine?

We need to stop acting like “sex” is a dirty word. Not talking about sex to young people doesn’t make them not have sex - it makes them have uninformed, dangerous sex.

Yes of course there are lines to draw. Yes of course not every book gets it right. Yes of course we need to be extremely critical.

But this gross thing going on right now where we say “adults writing YA where their of-age characters have consensual, safe, healthy sex is wrong” is doing nothing but damage.

What we need to say is, here are some really excellent examples of books that get it RIGHT. So here are some of those:

Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett

Running With Lions by Julian Winters

Red, White, and Royal Blue (NEW ADULT) by Casey McQuiston

History Is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera

The Miseducation of Cameron Post by Emily M. Danforth

So, in summary:

- Age appropriate exposure to romance and sexuality is imperative for the safety and development of young people

- Adults writing this material isn’t creepy - it just so happens that most people who write books are adults. Also, it’s hard to write about something when you’re right in the middle of it and haven’t quite got it figured out yet.

- I will personally attack you if you try and in any way, shape, or form use this to paint me as someone I’m not.

[softfeelingsandangstywriting]

Whumptober: Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones But...

When their friends had questions, it was usually a normal question; “How are you?” “What’s going on?” “Do you guys need anything?” But sometimes, it was something more touchy, and definitely something harder to talk about. Such as the scar on Raph’s face, reaching from the edge of his jawline down to right above his plastron.

None of them wanted to talk about it, obviously, but when Casey or April set their mind to something, they were determined to succeed.

Michelangelo, when asked, smirked, started to tell the story, then dodged the question with some kind of prank or a distraction, brushing it off with light-hearted jokes and fun times.

Donatello got flustered, stammering and trying to find something to say before mumbling about a project he needed to get done and locking himself away in his lab.

Leonardo reacted far more calmly, meeting their gaze and saying that he was supposed to be doing something, he needed to train, needed to sharpen his swords, he was really overwhelmed and wanted to meditate, had to help one of his brothers with something, and for the most part, he was telling the truth. For the most part, they left him alone afterwards.

Of course, for obvious reasons, they never went to Raphael himself to ask him about it, most likely believing it to be something sensitive to him.

And, sure, he was thankful, but sometimes it got frustrating. Seriously, why couldn’t they just ask? It wasn’t like he’d be sad about it, he thought the scar was cool.

See, it went something like this-

%%%

They were thirteen, a reasonable age to be getting into trouble. At that age, the lair was never quiet, somebody always up to something.

This time, Michelangelo was being an idiot. He pulled a prank on Raphael, and, even though it was just meant to be fun, had accidentally brought the wrath of the hot-head upon him.

Per usual, that prank ended with Michelangelo getting chased down by the second oldest and screaming at the top of his lungs while trying to gather up pillows as he went by the couch to defend himself. Raphael, being bigger and faster than the proclaimed youngest, tackled him down to the floor in a decking that would’ve made any hockey player proud.

Also per usual, it was up to Leonardo to interfere, getting a hold of Raphael and, quite literally, dragging him off of Michelangelo while he screeched about something unintelligible.

But, Raphael did not need Leonardo trying to soothe his frayed nerves right then, he was an inferno at the moment, and only wanted violence.

“Oh my God!” Raphael exclaimed, elbowing Leonardo in the shin to the best of his ability, “Do you mind? You’re not better than us, Golden Boy! Stop acting like you are!”

“Wh-” Leonardo blinked a couple times, clearly astonished by this outburst, then yelled back, “I am not! I don’t act like that, I’m just trying to keep you from beating the living crap out of Mikey!”

“Then why don’t you fight me? You’re acting pretty confident right now.”

Splinter, in the background, watched on, silent, to see how they would react to the fight within the team, even as Leonardo looked to him for help with Raphael’s temper.

There was a long-suffering sigh as Raphael’s struggles died down and Leonardo’s grip loosened before he nodded in agreement.

"Fine, Bonehead.”

Raphael let out a victorious laugh and wiggled up to his feet, marching off to the dojo while Leonardo rubbed his temples to ward off the rapidly approaching headache before following shortly after.

When Leonardo got there, Raphael already had his sai out, twirling them and wearing a crooked grin as he waited for Leonardo to draw his swords.

“Raph, you frickin' idiot.”

Raphael only smiled wider and crouched, delighted when Leonardo mirrored his movements with an exasperated sigh.

As soon as the elder was ready, he lurched forward, slamming into Leonardo full-force. The blue-clad grunted from the weight of the other, then pushed back with his katanas to shove Raphael off of him.

Chasing after the younger brother, Leonardo brought the katanas down in a long slice to force Raphael to raise up his own weapons so that he could catch the attack, trying to force him into a corner and keep him on his toes, moving faster so that the hothead wouldn’t even have the time to strike back.

Raphael struggled, trying to dart in and get a good hit at Leonardo, but he definitely hadn’t expected Leonardo to be so serious about this fight. Then- He saw his opening, Leonardo made the mistake of leaving his right side open for an attack, and he took the chance.

Raphael darted forward, slamming the hilt of one of his sais into the other’s side, and grinning when Leonardo staggered, a short gasp leaving him. Now the tables had turned, and Leonardo was getting forced up against a wall by the hothead. Back, back, back and-!

The hothead froze and hopped back as a katana went flying by his head. He watched as it embedded itself into the wall, almost up to the hilt, and forgot all about the spar until he was going down, the other blade still held by his brother, and pressed to his throat.

Leo had the audacity to smirk after that unfair win, before he pulled the sword away.

“Really, Raph, if you were so intent on winning, you would’ve kept your eyes on me, and not the loose katana-”

The mentioned brother grit his teeth as Leonardo taunted him, then stood up and glared like he wished he could kill the other with his eyes.

“This is what I’m talking about! You’re acting like you’re better than me right now, like you wouldn’t have done the same! I just-” Raphael cut off in a wordless scream, grabbing the sides of his head before turning on his heel and storming out. He didn’t care where, he just had to be out of the lair.

There was a certain area they couldn’t go past without explicit permission from Splinter, but it was far from home, so he went there, looking for somewhere far, far away that would allow him to calm down.

And. There was a ladder. They weren’t supposed to go up to the surface, but it was even farther and-

No, no. He was not supposed to go up, so he wouldn't. Raphael looked away and started pacing, hands curled into tight fists, but, his gaze drifted back to that ladder, then up to the manhole.

What the- He grit his teeth and silently scolded himself for considering it again. He really needed to move away from that thing if it was going to be a temptation-

He looked back, one more time, and sighed. It would just be a short trip to the surface, nothing quick or serious. Once he had calmed down, he would come back into the sewers, go home, and everything would be alright.

Raphael grabbed one of the rungs of the ladder and glanced up before slowly beginning to climb, testing how sturdy it was before moving up higher.

After an experimental push at the manhole cover, he was pleased to see that it went up without a problem. And, as he slowly crawled out, he paused to gape. The sky was almost black, lit up by a dim orange, but the city itself was brighter than the moon, lights sparkling like stars.

He was taken aback, mouth half open before he realized that he shouldn't just linger there. So, he crawled out, slowly set the manhole cover back in its place, and stood straight up. But once he was done gawking at the surface, his anger came back full force. What a way to ruin his moment of peace.

He tested the fire escape to his right first to make sure it wouldn't fall apart as soon as he tried to pull himself up, then went racing up it to get to the top. Raphael breathed in deep, enjoying the cool breeze from the rooftop before beginning to pace, muttering about his insufferable brother.

And then, there were some dudes cackling. That shouldn't have been so alarming, but something in Raphael screamed that it was wrong, he needed to go see it. 

As Raphael approached the edge of the building, he squinted at the people below, and immediately felt the rage boil up in him. It was four grown men harassing one girl. From the looks of it, they were mugging her.

His lip curled up in a snarl as he felt around his belt, looking for a kunai or throwing star or something like that. Once he had it, he tossed it down and heard it clatter. The men turned to look, giving the girl a chance to run, and after they had realized it was a weapon, they glanced up to where he was hiding, although they couldn't see him yet.

"Who's there?" One of them growled, one with a big, winding tattoo over his neck and right shoulder.

Raphael dropped down, not thinking clearly about the odds of the battle. After all, he had been training all his life, what could they do?

One or two of them paused, eyes widening at the sight of him before shaking the initial shock off, getting ready. The others were already stanced up, ready for a fight.

...Needless to say, it went badly. They were many, he was alone. They were adults and he was barely even a teenager. He was way in over his head, and ended up held down by a pair of them while one looked him over, and the other examined his sai. 

"Jesus..." The one to his left muttered, looking him over while he kicked and writhed.

"This thing," The dude in front of him, Tattoo Guy, crouched and reached his hand out, "Is ugly as-"

He yelled and pulled his hand back as Raph reached forward and snapped at his hand.

"Stupid-" he growled, rubbing his hand. Then, he turned to the dude still holding Raph's sai and held his hand out, "Hey, hand me one of those, aight? I'm gonna teach it a lesson for bothering us."

Raphael's stomach dropped, a chill running down his spine. He thrashed harder as the weapons were exchanged, trying to get away, they were gonna hurt him-

"Hold it still, don't wanna kill it."

Somebody grabbed his head, restraining him and forcing him to look up. He squeezed his eyes shut as the weapon was raised, and-!

A scream tore its way from his throat as they carved it through his skin, leaving a burning cut from his jawline to the tip of his plastron. Raphael began to writhe, pushing against them as they stood up and kept their grip on him. Somebody kicked him and then he was getting dragged along the concrete and shoved into the back of a truck.

He could hear them laughing while he shrunk into a corner, shivering and afraid.

Were they- Were they gonna take him? He should have just stayed home, then he could've avoided this whole mess-

They cackled in the front of the truck, he could hear them through the wall, and the engine started up before they started driving. He wasn't entirely sure how long it had been, but eventually, they stopped and the doors to the back opened.

Raphael got grabbed roughly by the arm, their grip tightening almost to a crushing point as they dragged him out, into the back alley, and then kicked him down.

Those sadists were definitely having fun with it, throwing him down and kicking him around while he was injured and unarmed. When they got bored and finished up, they opened up a manhole (his gateway to home, yes!) and threw him down inside before closing the cover after him and leaving.

He hit the ground hard, his shell contacting the concrete with a sickening thud, and knocking the air right from his lungs.

Raphael blinked, chest heaving even though nothing would enter his lungs. He laid there for a long moment, stunned from the fall, bruises throbbing and blood running down his face.

He. He didn’t want to go home, he realized after air started entering his body again.

Sure, there was help there, and it was definitely safe, but he didn’t want to have to face the others injured. Besides, they weren’t supposed to be going up to the surface, he knew that rule as well as any of his brothers.

Instead, he slowly propped himself up on his arms, taking deep breaths to try and get rid of the last of the shock from falling before standing shakily. Raphael teetered for a moment, and he had to brace himself on the wall to avoid falling back down. Once steady, he wandered over to the part of the sewers that he knew he had been supposed to stay in.

When he was safe, and somewhere that he supposed people wouldn’t find him, he raised a hand to touch the injury, wincing and pulling his hand away immediately after. Jeez- That was a lot of blood. Hadn’t Donatello said something about how much heads bleed? Maybe the nerd had actually said something useful for once.

Then he realized that there were footsteps and froze before pressing himself up against the wall, looking for a hiding place, somewhere he wouldn’t get caught-

“Raph?”

Oh. It was- It was just Leonardo. Of course it was just Leonardo, because he was always the one who found them first.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice impossibly soft, because it was Leonardo.

“Go away,” Raphael rasped, still holding the bleeding side of his face, “I don’t wanna see you right now.”

“Raph, look at me.”

“No.”

“I said look at me-!”

Leonardo grabbed Raphael, and before the younger of the two could even react, he had been turned around to face the oldest, and he knew that Leonardo could see the blood now, he could see the bruises and scrapes, and shoot, he looked concerned. Raphael could only feel bad, because now his brother went looking for him, already worried, just to find him hurt.

“Oh,” Leonardo said dumbly, probably at a loss for words, “I see.”

“It’s really nothin’ to be worried ‘bout, Leo. It’s not deep-”

Leonardo tightened his grip on Raphael’s shoulder to shut him up, meeting his gaze clearly. “You realize how long you’ve been gone? You left an hour ago, Raph. We all went looking for you, and we couldn’t find you, because there’s not much to be seen in this little space of sewer. Mikey got cold, Donnie had to check on something, and I stayed, I kept looking for you and even asked for permission to go further in the sewers, just in case.

And then? I found blood, Raph, I found your blood, leading here. You freaking scared me, I thought you were really hurt, or worse!”

And of course, Leonardo found his blood, that hyper-aware son of a gun- The nicknamed “Fearless” was afraid, for him- And his brother was still going, now bombarding him with questions about it.

“Who did this to you? Where are they? How’d this happen? You need to see Sensei or Don, are you alright? You look pale, we really need to get back, everybody is worried and-”  Leonardo cut off as Raphael sniffled, looking down and not at him anymore.

He rubbed his eyes, sniffled again, and then sobbed, crumpling down and taking Leonardo with him as he cried.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-! I just-” he gasped for air between the sobs, a low whine leaving him before he kept going, “I got so angry, and I didn’t want to stay down here, I felt trapped and I went up to the surface,” Leonardo's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything, thankfully, letting the younger tell his story, “I- I got up to a roof and I heard these dudes laughing, they were mugging this girl, Leo! They were gonna hurt her so- So I interfered, and I know you’re gonna say that was risky but I couldn’t just do nothing! They ganged up and took me down, and kicked me around some to rub it in,” he doesn’t mention that they were hurtful verbally, too. That part wasn’t important, “Then- Then they dumped me back in the sewers about a mile or two back, and I came here.”

He realized that Leonardo was digging his fingers into his own thigh, eye ridges furrowed as his jaw tensed. He was angry, and Raphael couldn't help but wonder-

“Are you mad at me..?”

Leonardo paused, and his facial expression relaxed. In fact, he almost looked hurt by the question, gaze softening as he looked Raphael over.

After a long moment of silence, he answered, his conviction clear in his answer, “...Not at you, I’m not angry at you, I’m the one who made you go up in the first place. I’m angry at them. They’re stupid and cruel, and you’re one of the coolest people I know.”

“...Leo, you only know four people.”

“Shut up and take the compliment before I take it back.”

Raphael sniffled again and then laughed softly, shoulders shaking from it. “Alright, fine, fine. I know I’m cool, anyway.”

Leonardo grinned, wide and happy, and Raphael was a little relieved that the other was feeling better. He was, too, he realized. Somehow, that dork had managed to cheer him up (and he’d have to thank him for it later, but not verbally. He’d find something nice or Space Heroes-related and leave it in his room for him).

“I’ll be right back,” Leonardo said suddenly, standing up and racing off.

Raphael paused, confused at the sudden disappearance of his brother. What the..? But he didn’t leave, he just leaned back and waited, picking at the bandages on his hands while he waited. When Leonardo returned, it was with some bandages, water, and disinfectant, and he was beaming, proud of what he had done.

Without speaking, he crouched back down, cleaning up the injury to keep it from infecting. Raphael hissed and winced from the sting as it fizzed, but he made sure to be nice and still while Leonardo worked on bandaging him up.

But, as he was finishing up- “I’m gonna kill those people..” Leonardo had muttered it, just barely loud enough for Raphael to hear, but it was definitely concerning to hear.

“Wait- What?” he had to double-check to make sure that he had heard the other correctly.

“What ‘what’? I didn’t say anything, we need to get home anyway. I’m sure if you’re honest, Splinter won’t be too harsh with the punishment for going up,” Leonardo brushed that off way too casually, standing up.

“No wait-” Raphael stammered, hopping up after him.

“I said, let’s go home, Raph.”

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

roddy plays fire emblem: three houses - prologue

all I know about this game I learned from twitter. I don’t know much of anything about this game. but I’ll tell you what I know about the characters anyway.

I’m only doing characters who I can distinctly recall off the top of my head. I’m not looking up anyone’s names because there are so many characters in this game.

Byleth - the player character. a teacher at this academy, despite not being much older than the oldest students here. game devs are cowards who couldn’t believe that lady Byleth could be Big Sexy in proper armor and instead they gave her fuckin....thigh-highs and lace and a titty window and a belly-button window ma’am your organs are there, you can’t expose that. my disdain for impractical lady armor is outweighed by my desire to play as the girl whenever possible, so like, I’ll play Lady Byleth, but I just won’t be happy about it. 

Jeralt - Byleth’s dad? I think it’s Jeralt? There’s some other guy who looks a lot like the guy who I think is Byleth’s dad so I can’t actually tell you if I got the name right. he’s a mercenary. I don’t know why he and his kid are hired at a fuckin....church academy? but they are. he raised Byleth basically as a feral child and he doesn’t even know how old they are? even though his wife died in childbirth and I think he talks about how long ago that was? or something? there’s something about him not knowing how old his own kid is. Dad what the hell.

Rhea - the lady pope of The Church, but not a cool ladypope like Leliana Dragon Age. I saw someone compare her outfit/hair to Ghetsis from Pokemon and I sent that meme to Wolf and Liam asking if they could confirm or deny and they told me that’s an insult to her but Ghetsis is slime of the earth so relatively, we still don’t know. I don’t trust her because I don’t trust quasi-historical-inspired-setting fantasy church leaders, except for Leliana/Vivienne/Cassandra.

Seteth - green hair? all the church people have green hair are they related? is it magic? I think it’s magic, Byleth’s hair is sometimes green. he’s like the Hot Dad but since he’s not your dad you can romance him. I don’t know if I trust his goatee but one of my friends retweets a lot of art of him and I trust her so maybe I trust him? he’s on thin ice.

Flayan? Flayn? Flyann? I’m calling her Flan like the custard but I know there’s a Y in there somewhere right? - more green hair, so a church person I guess. I have no idea how old she is because this is anime and she could be anywhere from 12 to an ancient dragon person because I know this series has some of those. maybe Seteth’s daughter?? I get that vibe??

Sothis - the ancient dragon person who looks like a 12 year old girl. more green hair. I couldn’t tell her and Flan apart for a while.

BLACK EAGLES

why aren’t they the Red Eagles? they’re red. the other two are blue and yellow. who named these guys. what the fuck.

Edelgard - every time I see the pokemon Eldegoss in SwSh I think of her. leader of the BE. controversial. very controversial. doesn’t like the Church. I can handle this, I romanced Anders in my first playthrough of DA2 which was my first time playing any Dragon Age game, controversial and Church-hating is like.... sometimes you just gotta blow up a fantasy church, you know? I get it. even if I don’t end up agreeing with her, like, I get it, I guess. she didn’t always have white hair but something happened. there sure is a lot of magic hair color shit in this game. I think Dmitri is her stepbrother.

Hubert - Edelgard’s right-hand man. vampire jokes for days. I’m gonna cut myself on that edge....the edge of his cheekbones they are Sharp. I don’t buy that this guy is a teenager. I don’t know whether he’s actually tall or people just play that up because it’s funny to draw him Tall and Looming behind Edelgard.

Ferdinand von Aegir - I AM FERDINAND VON AEGIR!!!!!!!!

Dorothea - she’s the opera singer one, right? if I got the name wrong, I’m talking about the pretty opera singer one with the hat that’s kinda like a beret. she’s my favorite because I’m gay and she’s very pretty and looks very sweet. she’s like the only one of the Eagles who’s a commoner I think? I don’t know why she’s here but okay. I like her. I would like to kiss her.

GOLDEN DEER

Claude - that’s not his real name. leader of the GD. he’s an archer and he has a big fuckoff dragon wyvern. his mother is from whatever country this game is set in but his dad isn’t and lots of people are rude and racist to him for it. he seems kinda chill but also suspicious of everyone which honestly I get it. also he might poison people? I trust him and I’m sure he has good reason to do it. I support him.

Hilda - Claude’s right-hand lady. pink hair anime girl with a giant fuckoff axe. I thought I knew more about her than that but nope that’s all I’ve got. has an older brother.

Lorenz - purple haired anime boy. look at his post-timeskip haircut this boy is Gay and there’s nothing anyone can tell me that would change my mind. needs to be smacked with some good ol’ Character Development to grow past being a pretentious noble prick but he’s pretty cool once that happens. one of the artists I follow who turned overnight into a FE3H twitter for like six months is a big Lorenz stan so I think I could be biased toward him already but that’s just How It Be when you’re coming into this via osmosis.

BLUE LIONS

Dmitri - leader of the Blue Lions but everyone calls him a boar. gets absolutely hammered by Bad Times in the timeskip and comes back with an eyepatch and absolutely feral and unhinged. murdered a bunch of people? Dimi You Can’t Just Go Around Murdering People. 30-50 feral hogs in a big fuzzy mantle. very unfortunate that he’s being forced to do Leader Shit and just wasn’t allowed to be chill and relax and get to work through his issues instead of getting more of them and going feral.

Dedue - you cannot convince me that this man is not a 30-year-old father of two. how is he a student. get out of here. you’re wrong and you’re lying. who did these character designs. I think out of almost everyone here, he is the guy who Does Not Deserve All Of This but fate has been a dick to him. everyone he loves got murdered by I think Dmitri’s countrymen but now Dedue is Dmitri’s right-hand-man which I do not understand. He deserves better both in-game and also from the writers because they just kind of write him out post-timeskip I hear. just free this man from whatever the fuck is going on in his life and the game. I still don’t believe you that he’s of any age to be a student.

Sylvain - the redhead. childhood friends with Dmitri and someone else but I don’t remember who. The Horny Guy. may just automatically be recruited by Lady Byleth to their class, betraying his country and his oldest friends because he saw a belly-button window. just y’know. sometimes it be like that. 

FELIX - he’s the other childhood friend. I don’t know shit about him.

OTHER STUDENTS WHOSE NAMES I CAN RECALL BUT I DON’T KNOW WHERE THEY ARE AND IT DOESN’T MATTER BECAUSE YOU CAN RECRUIT ALMOST EVERYONE TO ANYWHERE ELSE

Caspar (artist?), Linhardt, Bernadetta (Bernie, my brain keeps just swapping her and Dorothea around because they both have these long regal names but I don’t think they’re actually anything at all alike), Petra, Leonie, Marianne,

ASHEN WOLVES

they’re not really a house they’re just a bunch of people who live in the fucking basement and I think it’s the church’s fault.

Yuri - the other purple-haired anime boy. got kicked out of war crimes academy somehow. declared himself the leader of the basement people and they were just like “hey sure cool I guess”. 

Someone who’s a friend of I think Hilda’s older brother - not even a student or someone who needs to be living in the basement, he’s just down here for tax fraud? debt evasion? again, it be like that.

THE PLOT

matchmaking simulator. Byleth plays matchmaker for all of their students by setting them up into the most healthy friendships/relationships that are as ambiguously gay as the COWARDS writing this game will allow. I know there are a few, but it’s mostly a few Byleth romances, so. that.

also Byleth makes the other professors’ jobs easier by poaching all their students so that they only have to teach like two people while Byleth has everyone in their class. recruit the students by giving them gifts and having tea with them. eat lunch like five times a day trying to hang out with everyone. go fishing. go fishing some more. the game limits your amount of bait per month because otherwise this will be a fishing simulator. I know this specifically because I asked Wolf and Liam if I could just fish infinitely forever and they told me no. I was upset. the day that the game starts is 4/20. I know this because Wolf made a meme about it and that’s what started our long conversation about the game that established nothing.

immediately after everyone graduates, Byleth goes into a fucking coma for five years and wakes up and the five-year reunion is interrupted by a war between the three houses. -rimshot- also there might be some greater threat called the Flame Emperor or some shit but I know fuckall about that. mostly I just know everyone’s despair as they are forced to kill their friends who they didn’t manage to recruit.

I’ve never played a Fire Emblem before and I’ve never known what a tactic is in any RPG I’ve ever played. this is going to be fantastic.

[captainamericasbeard]

A Long Road- Ch 6

Pairing: Bucky x OFC 

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None

Summary: While recovering in Wakanda Bucky meets a deadly stranger who needs to learn how to heal.

Part 5 // Masterlist

The next morning I wake up next to the fire, as has become habit. Bucky is stoking the embers and brewing tea for us. He serves it and we drink it in silence. The sun is peaking up over the mountains and the birds are a riot of noise and color in the trees surrounding our huts. It’s moments like these where I actually feel at peace. Bucky watches me taking in my surroundings and he can’t help but be taken by the golden light on the apples of my cheeks. Shaking himself out of his reverie he throws the last few drops of tea out onto the fire and stands up stretching.

“Come with me, I’ve got something for you,” he says softly as he moves towards his hut. I stand up and shake the stiffness out of my bones, following him cautiously. He pulls back the fabric covering the entrance to his hut, inviting me in. I stop at the doorway and stare him down.

“I’ve never been in your hut.” I say, my voice full of reservation.

“You don’t have to come in. I can bring it out to you,” Bucky answers unoffended. I close my eyes and clench and flex my hands. You have to find someone you can trust, my mother’s voice rings in my ears. I let out a shaky breath and step into Bucky’s hut. Bucky goes over to the low table and picks something up to bring to me.

“I made this for you,” he says, dropping his head shyly as he hands me a beautiful handmade notebook. The cover is banana leaf and the edges have rough torn edges. It’s expertly laced together. As I take it with shaking hands images flash in my mind. Bright balloons and laughing children. Me with a pointed, foil-wrapped hat on my head. A smiling woman with long dark hair and my eyes. I gasp and tears quickly fill your eyes.

“I remember,” I whisper.

“Tell me about it,” Bucky says, scrambling at his bedside. He finds a pencil and hands it to me. I quickly move to the low table and stool and open the notebook, scribbling furiously.

“I remember another time someone gave me a gift. A birthday party.” I’m grateful for a happy memory and I begin to rail off the images I see to Bucky and into the notebook. The memories start to get really specific as I remember the flavor of my birthday cake and my favorite present I got that year. I’m grinning ear to ear and Bucky sits cross legged at my feet, absorbing every word I say but also entranced by the smile he sees on my face for the first time.

An hour later I’m exhausted. One memory lead to another and my voice is hoarse and my hand cramped from getting them all out. I move to Bucky’s straw mat bed and flop down on my back, clutching the notebook to my chest as though my life depended on it. At this point it does. I feel myself drifting off to sleep as Bucky busies himself at the table.

“Bucky?” I murmur sleepily.

“Yeah, Lucy?” I smile softly at the sound of my name.

“How do I know the memories are real?” I ask worriedly.

“It’s like your mom said, you just have to trust. And from what I know of the Red Room, I don’t think they would plant something so lovely in your mind.” The thought is reassuring and I quickly drift off to sleep.

_______________________________________________________________________

So I decide to trust Bucky. I carry the notebook he gave me with me everywhere I go.

I jot down every snippet, every dream that comes to me. I hold nothing back from Bucky, even when I start remembering the things I did in the name of the Red Room I sit in his hut and sob at the memories and Bucky’s presence comforts me.

Bucky’s hut has become a place of refuge for me. It feels more like home than my own impersonal dwelling. I look around one day and realize it looks like my home too. There’s a second stool Bucky has made for me at the table where a small bundle of wildflowers I picked lay in a clay bowl. The woven mat was replaced long ago by a straw mattress on a low wooden pallet since I nap here so frequently during the day

I spend most of my time with Bucky and luckily he doesn’t seem to mind. We jog around the lake and swim in the cool water when its hot out. We float like angels in the still water and I tell Bucky my memories while he tells me his. My heart is so tender in these moments I almost feel whole.

Bucky teaches me how to weave and I remember my grandma taught me how to knit. Adala requests the supplies from Shuri and I spend an afternoon teaching Bucky. His nimble fingers pick it up quickly and soon we’re racing to see who can make the longest scarf. We’ve decided we'll give them to Shuri to thank her for fixing us. Bucky’s is a soft grayish purple and mine is a shocking orange. Fit for a princess.

At one point I glance up from my knitting at Bucky’s face and my breath is snatched away from me. His face is glowing in the fiery afternoon light as his brow furrows in concentration. It’s in this mundane moment I realize I am wholly in love with Bucky Barnes and that I’d be content to be by his side forever. The thought sets fear in my blood but also hope in my heart. I never thought I’d be able to love again.

We go on like this for months. I slowly break down my walls and offer Bucky a soft pat on the shoulder or a quiet touch on the knee. Bucky receives my offerings with joy, he sees me healing and it thrills him.

Until one day King T’Challa comes striding up the hill to our circle of huts with a long suitcase in tow.

_______________________________________________________________________

I’m frozen to the floor as the lab around me bursts into activity. The jet carrying the team has just landed and they are prepping a table for Shuri to extract the mind stone from Vision. My heart is in my throat as Bucky steps into the room talking in a low voice to his oldest friend. Cap is catching Bucky up on the situation with Thanos but when Bucky’s eyes glance up they lock on mine and his heart stops.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he mumbles lowly as he breaks away from his conversation with Cap. He gently guides me by the elbow to a small room off the lab and looks at me with such deep concern.

“I had to see you. T’Challa told me what’s happening.” Bucky’s glare darkens as he looks over at the king who had clearly just averted his attention. “I had to see you before…” my words fail as my eyes drop to the floor. I can feel Bucky’s whole body wants to touch me, to wipe the tears from my cheeks, to push an errant strand of hair behind my ear, to pull me close and refuse to let go. But he’ll never cross that line for me.

I work up the courage to look in his eyes and I see the depth of longing in his gaze. My body is screaming in protest but I can’t bear the separation any longer. Stumbling, I close the distance between the two of us. I draw your arms up to my chest in an instinctive defense position but then I bury my face into his chest. He hesitates, but only for a moment and then he wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tight. He kisses the top of my head before resting his chin on the top of my head.

My whole body is tense and I jerk involuntarily as your training struggles to exert itself but Bucky only squeezes tighter. Eyes still shut I tilt my chin up and find his lips, kissing him while my body silently sobs. I instinctively know this is my last chance to kiss Bucky Barnes. His lips are soft and tender but soon they're whispering “shh, it's going to be ok,” against my ear. My body finally relaxes and melts into his. It's the best feeling in the world.

Bucky pulls away from me and looks me in the eyes. His gaze is even more intense now, as though the kiss had sharpened everything he had felt for me for months

“I want you to wait for me at my place,” he says firmly. I don’t want you anywhere near that battle.” His eyes are blazing now and I know there’s no arguing with him. That doesn’t stop me from trying.

“I want to wait here,” I plead as Bucky shakes his head, “I want to hear what’s going on.” “No. Thanos is coming for that stone and I don’t want you anywhere near it. You’ll wait at my place and I'll find you when its over. There’s no arguing. Suddenly his gaze softens. He takes my face in his hands and wipes my tears with his thumbs. He presses his lips to mine one last time and then Cap is calling his name.

“Bucky,” he says apologetically, “time to go.”

“I’ll be back soon.” And then he’s gone, slinging his rifle over his shoulders he joins the team. I’m naked without his warmth and my stomach drops knowing Bucky just lied to me for the first time.

_______________________________________________________________________

I run back to Bucky’s hut as fast as I can, my lungs burning. As I run something massive hits the dome and disintegrates in midair. I duck and cover into the doorway of a shop while I stave off a panic attack. The streets turn to chaos around me. I desperately wish Bucky were there to massage my hands and tell me its going to be ok. But he’s not here with me. He’s prepping for a battle I’m pretty sure he won’t return from. The thought makes my head swim.

“I never told him, I never told him.” I sob out loud. I have to get back to the hut, I think. If I go where he told me then maybe he will be there. I push myself off the wall and run to the outskirts of the city.

When I get to Bucky’s hut the goats are in panic. They’re fighting against their pen and two have escaped. I gab a handful of feed and chase after them.

“Sarah! Rebecca! Come here girls,” I call out against the wind that seems to be picking up around me. They hear my frantic calls and come running, following my hand full of food back to the pen. I come in and sit down on the short stool in the pen, giving the girls cuddles and attention to distract them from the strange atmosphere that’s filled the air. They snuffle at my hands and pockets searching for treats.

“It’s gonna be ok ladies. Bucky will be back soon, he promised,” I whisper to the goats as I lazily scratch behind their ears.

Suddenly something shifts in the air. The animals all go quiet and cower. My hand stills and rests against Sarah’s fur as I look around, searching for the source of the disturbance. In the space of a moment, Sarah isn’t there anymore. She flies away into the air leaving behind a handful of what looks like ash. I stand up and as I do a few of the other goats vanish right in front of my eyes.

I can feel my insides turning. I look down at my hands and watch them turn to ash. Bucky’s name is on my lips and then those are gone too. As I fade to black all I can feel around me is the gentle breeze carrying me away. My last thoughts are of Bucky and the gentle hope that he’ll meet me wherever I’m going.

_____________________________________________________________________

I’m tagging those who have expressed interest in this story by leaving comments or binge reading it. This last chapter loomed over my head for months and I finished it because you all were so encouraging and loved these characters along with me. Thank you and I hope you like the ending. 

@camrynwithnoe @lylahkp @hermionesalvatore84 @ninjawolfgirl21@markusstraya @lyaksandrovna @booksteaandarainyday @dorkatron2000 @butteryoptimisticpeanut @jll72-blog 

[metaphoricalplutowrites]

Roman’s Delivery Service - Chapter 1

ao3 link   |   Masterlist  |  Some art i did for it

Authors note: So i’ve had this idea of a 'Kiki's Delivery Service' au for a while and as im such a huge Studio Ghibli nerd i thought i’d make it anyways. It’s had a while in the making but i finally managed to finish it and i hope you like it as much as i do :) 

Summary: When a witch or wizard turns 13, on the night of a full moon they must leave home for a year in order to train in which ever skill they choose to persue. Roman is no different. At 13, he must go away with his black cat, Virgil, to train a year away from home as is customary to do so with his family’s and village’s traditions.

Pairing(s): Platonic pinxiety

Warnings: witches/wizards?

Words: 3454

Tags: @novagalaxy4real  @tree4life25 @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2  @say-no-to-this-but-its-laurens @magicmapleleaf @moxiety--sanders101 @vrexemi @theresneverenoughfandoms  @patchworkofstars @iris-sanders-athena @virgilssweaterpaws @ravenclawicecream

“-we’ve been receiving so many calls from people, asking about this marvellous airship called ‘The spirit of freedom’ which may or may not be passing over our area soon. I’ll let you know more as soon as we have more information available to us. But first, here’s the weather forecast; skies are clearing up, thanks to a high pressure front, moving in from the mountains. Mild winds will be blowing in from the west, pushing the clouds out by this evening. There will be a beautiful full moon lighting up the night sky, so if you’ve been planning something special, tonight might just be the night to do it. Tomorrow also looks good with more clear skies and sun-”

Roman switched off the portable radio with a ‘click’ and sat up from the lush grass he had been laying in previously, cloud gazing.

He stood up and brushed the grass which had gotten stuck to the back of his trousers off, bending backwards till his back cracked.

“Virgil! Wake up!” He said excitedly to the black fur ball who had curled up and was asleep, basking in the summer sun.

“Hmm?” The cat replied sleepily, only half awake.

The young boy then started to walk through the flowers of the meadow and back towards his house’s – making sure his black cat, Virgil, was following behind him. He could be a little sarcastic sometimes, well sometimes was an understatement, but Roman still loved him anyways.

“C’mon Virgil, let’s go tell mum and dad!” Roman shouted back to his cat as he started to race down the dirt path that lead home.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, just slow down already!” the dark fur ball shouted back. “Not all of us have long-ass legs like you!”

“Oh hush, let’s just go!” the young boy kept on running.

“Good afternoon, young Roman! Where are you off to today?” one of his neighbours called to him as they passed on their bike.

“Good afternoon, Mr Hamada! Just off home for now.” Roman slowed down ever so slightly and greeted him.

“Rightio, don’t let me be in your way now!” then he started to cycle on again.

“Have a good day sir!” Roman called and then continued running home, thoroughly tiring his cat out in the process.

“Slow down!” Virgil whined as he tried to keep up with the fast pace, but Roman paid no attention to his complaining, he was well used to it at this point in his life.

Soon enough, he could see the driveway of his house, the plants in the front garden coming into his view. He then picked up the pace only slightly, dodging and swerving in between all the pots and leaves. Once he got to his house, he went straight into their conservatory where his mum was busy making a potion for another one of his neighbours – an old lady he knew as Ms Flora.

She was a nice old lady, a neighbour he had known for as long as he could remember and she was also a regular customer of his mother.

“Hey mum-! Oh hi there Ms Flora,” Roman greeted the old lady when he saw she was there. “Hey mum, it’s gonna be a clear night tonight! And guess what?!” he continued, “The radio had said there is going to be a full moon too!” He finished a little too quickly, but that just showed his enthusiasm over it

“Did you go and borrow your father’s radio again without asking?” His mum scolded, raising an eyebrow as she concentrated on the potion she was making.

“Oh don’t worry, he doesn’t mind about that.” He waved off the concern and returned back to the topic he was talking about. “Please excuse me Ms Flora. Mum it’s going to be the perfect midnight to leave home! I can’t think of another night id want to, and it might not be like this again!” He half begged.

Roman’s mother was surprised, and momentarily paused in her potion making, but then continued as there was a timeframe she had to meet with the ingredients. Roman didn’t really understand why, but then again potions always seemed to bore him to no end.

“You mean tonight? Next month is what you told me!” She said, voicing her surprise as she mixed ingredients together.

“Yeaahhhhh, but the next full might well be on a cloudy night! And I want to leave on the perfect midnight! It is a special occasion after all!” The boy tried to reason, it made sense to him after all.

“Huh? But Roman-” said Roman had already to rush up to his room to start packing his back to be able to leave. “Wait!” She yelled after him, but little did she know her potion was beginning to bubble over and burn, and soon enough it exploded. Once the smoke cleared from around her, she could see that the glass tube had cracks down the side, and that the potion she was making had been ruined. She sighing, she started to go through and remake the potion again.

There was a chuckle from her guest who sat at a table in the room which had all sorts of different plants around it. “My oh my, what’s this all about hmm?” she laughed light-heartedly.

“It’s one of our oldest traditions, when a witch or wizard turns 13, they must leave home for a year in order to begin their training to become a witch or wizard.” She explained while making the new potion.

“Your little boy is 13 already? Goodness me how time flies.” Ms Flora smiled.

Roman’s mother agreed, “He seems so young to be leaving home now…”

Ms Flora sat back in her chair. “Well, I remember the very day you came to this town. A little girl flew down from the sky on a broomstick. And I was certain she was much too young to have such an important job as the President Witch.” They both chuckled.

Once she’d finished making the potion, Roman’s mum went and sat down across from Ms Flora with the potion.

“Yes, but at least I could actually fly, Roman barely knows how to do that! And every time I’ve tried to teach him how to make potions he gets too bored or I just never even have enough time to even teach him.” She said, worry hinted in her voice.

The old lady considered this for a moment and then spoke again. “Young people these days are all the same. They all want to do something different to what others want them to do. But I do hope at least that you get to teach him the potion that cures my Rheumatism.”

They both laughed at that and Roman’s mother was left with a tad less worry than she had before.

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

“Hurry up!” Roman rushed around his room, grabbing clothes out of draws, throwing them onto his bed and then shoving them in to his trusty red bag. “We had always said that we could leave on the perfect night, didn’t we?” He said to his cat as he sorted through a draw of socks.

“Nuh uh. Our plan was to stick around for another month and play it safe. I like that plan.” Virgil deadpanned and hopped aside to avoid his tail being trodden on by Roman as he ran around.

“And then if we put it off for a month and I find some wonderful boyfriend then what will we do?” Roman pulled shirts out of his chest of draws and without folding them very neatly, put in them into his bag, pushing them down to make them a little smaller.

“Uh oh…” Virgil said worriedly.

“Come on Virgil!” Roman then decided that unless he folded things then everything wouldn’t fit so he emptied the bag and then started rolling all his clothed up – a trick he learnt from his father to make clothes smaller.

“I’m going to put my paws together and pray you’re not serious about this princey.” The black cat had to dodge a shirt which was thrown his way, the boy deciding it wasn’t worth taking. Virgil didn’t blame him, neon orange wasn’t really Roman’s colour.

“Of course I am!” Roman replied a bit crossly and paused in his packing to look at his cat. “You very well know that ever since this prince has turned 13 I have been excited to make this trip.”

He swiftly finished off packing by taking his savings tin down from his bookcase and shoving it into the middle of his bag, so that it wouldn’t easily be lost. But then he remembered the prince outfit hanging up in his wardrobe and then folded that neatly, packing that too, he couldn’t leave it behind after all.

“There.” He said once he was happy with how things fitted. It was then that he heard a car pull into the driveway. “Dad!” He exclaimed and then ran over to the window, which, when he looked out, showed it was indeed his father who had pulled in.

Roman’s father looked very much like Roman, and Roman looked pretty much like his dad did when he was younger, except for the fact Roman had freckles, brown hair like his mother and he didn’t wear glasses.

“Dad! Guess what?!” He yelled out of the window. “I’ve decided that I’m going to leave tonight!”

His father was surprised to hear this, much like his mother, and paused in undoing the rope which was attached over the top of his car, keeping all sorts of different things in place.

“You’re going away tonight?!” he shouted up to Roman.

“Yeah! There’s gonna be a full moon tonight!” Roman called back.

“Well yeah, I guess so, but what happened to the camping trip we were supposed to take this weekend?” Roman’s dad managed to get the rope free from the top of the car. Pots, pans and other camping supplies were held atop the car. He sounded rather down about the fact that they may well not be able to go on the trip together as a family.

“Sorry dad!” Roman apologised and then went from the window back to his bag to check he had packed everything he needed.

“Oh, uh, Roman, wait-!” Being a tad distracted with talking to Roman, he didn’t notice the rope that was on the floor in front of him, so when he went to run inside, he tripped on said rope and then caused a lot of the equipment to come crashing off of the top of the car. He hesitated, looking back and forth between the house and the car trying to figure out what to what to do, but decided it would be best to at least sort out some of the things from the top of the car before he went inside.

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

Roman’s mother had finished up working on her potions and had gone up to Roman’s room. She had gone up to make sure all of Roman’s robes fit him correctly and to make sure the hem lines were right and fit right. His outfit was simple, a black shirt and trousers that matched. She had originally wanted Roman to wear what wizard’s usually wore, an outfit which was just one piece and was like a dress, but wasn’t a dress. Roman had protested against it and she ended up giving up on fighting him over it and they settled for a shirt and trousers. It wasn’t what she would have preferred but at least Roman was somewhat happy with it and it was traditional colours.

“Very handsome.” She remarked as she sewed up a hem on his right trouser leg.

Roman looked into the full length mirror they were in front of and frowned. “White would look better on me, or even my prince suit!”

“Listen, wizards and witches have worn this colour for a very long time Roman, you know that.” His mother reminded him.

“Oh but mum,” Roman continued, “I look really… dull.”

His mother finished and then stood up, putting her hands comfortingly on his shoulders as she grinned into the mirror. “It’s not really important what colour or style your clothes are dear, what matters is the heart inside.”

The boy smiled at this, “well I’m going to be the very best wizard that I can be mum! And I know that having a good heart is very important. But I do wish I could wear something different…”

His mother ignored the second half of his statement and replied, “Just follow your heart and keep smiling.”

Roman smiled at her in the mirror and agreed. “Yeah.”

“And be sure to write home as soon as you are settled.” She said as she packed up her sewing kit and proceeded downstairs from his room.

“Okay,” he called after her. When Roman saw his dad coming up the stairs he gasped and ran over to him. “Dad! Oh can I take the radio please?” he then proceeded to shout downstairs. “Mum, didn’t you say I could take the radio?” He looked over the banisters and saw his mother give him a nod as a yes. “Yay!”

His father chuckled. “Oh alright, it’s yours already!”

“Thank you!” Roman thanked him and smiled widely.

His father sat on his bed, he’d just come upstairs from calling all their family and friends to inform them of the date change of Roman’s leaving, they wanted people to be there for when he left after all.

“Well now,” he looked at Roman’s outfit. “You certainly look very grown up, Mr Wizard Prince.”

“Well I’m glad about that! One can’t be a prince if you don’t look grown up enough!” Roman beamed. “Hey dad, would you be able to lift me up high like you used to do when I was little?” he asked, holding his arms out.

“Well…” with a little struggle, Roman’s dad managed to pick him up and hold him up above him, spinning around a few times causing Roman to giggle, before dropping him back down, catching him and hugging him close while still carrying the boy.

“How come you never told me you were growing up so fast?” he murmured to Roman quietly. He then let Roman go from the hug but still held him. “You know, if this don’t work out, you can always come back home?”

Roman looked a tad taken back and smiled. “And come back a failure? No way!” he then made a face and stuck his tongue out, making both of them laugh.

“Will you write to us, if you have the time?” his dad asked him.

“Mhm,” Roman made a sound of agreement and then snuggled closer to his father. “I love you dad.”

They stayed like that for a little while longer before they had to double check Roman had got everything packed and then get ready for that evening. It was going to be a big event after all.

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

As the weather report had said, it was indeed a clear night, not a cloud was in sight and the full moon was up high in the sky. There were various groups of Roman’s friends, his parent’s friends, family members and neighbours gathered around outside of their house, ready to wave Roman a goodbye when he leaves.

Roman himself was joking around, or as some would say, having banter, with a group of his friends from the village.

“Ooh, so are you going to find a city by the ocean?” One friend asked him.

“Or maybe even a town?” Another added.

“Well, at least that’s what I’m hoping to do anyways!” Roman grinned, and his friends agreed on ‘how cool that would be’.

“Man I’m so jealous, you’re gonna have so much fun!” one of his friends remarked.

“I’m not going just for a good time though,” Roman stood up straight and held a finger up. “In order to become a good wizard, I have to train a whole year away from home.” He told them.

“Yeah, be sure to tell that to the boys,” his friend elbowed him in the ribs and the group all laughed. It was a well-known fact in the village that Roman had an attraction to boys, and they were all very accepting of it, those who weren’t were shunned however. It wasn’t really that big of a deal to anyone there, they just saw him for who Roman was and nothing else.

Their joking was cut short when Roman’s mother called him over, saying that it was time.

“Kay!” Roman waved to his friends, the broom he made earlier that day clutched in his grip as he ran over to his mother, who was also holding her broom.

“That’s going to be the broom you’re leaving on Roman?” she questioned, looking at his broom uncertainly.

“Yup! I made it all by myself this morning actually!” Roman said proudly, holding it out so she could see his handy work. His mother had other ideas however.

“Honey, that broom is too small to be truly safe, I’d much rather you took my broom instead, I know it better,” she insisted, not backing down.

“But mum that one’s so old! It’s pretty much ancient!” he protested.

“And that’s why it’s good!” his mum explained. “You can rely on it time after time and in any kind of weather too. Roman, do this for me please?”

“But I put so much effort into making this one,” He said, downcast. He then turned to Virgil, hoping for the cat to back him up. “Right Virgil?”

The cat paused from licking his paws from where he was seated on Roman’s shoulder. “Your broom is nice, but let’s take your mother’s.” He said flatly.

“Well you’re no help.” He pouted and glared at the black cat.

Ms Flora spoke up from where she was seated, “Now Roman, wouldn’t you be able to make yourself another fine broom once you’ve found a place and settled down?”

Roman sighed. “Yeah I guess so.”

Soon enough, it was time for Roman to leave. He went around and said goodbye to each of the guests there and hugged his friend’s goodbye.

“Be careful,” his mother told him as he hugged her.

“You be strong okay?” his father asked when Roman hugged him.

“I will!” Roman said to them as he made his way out into the middle of the clearing and then mounted his mother’s broomstick.

Flying took a lot of concentration for taking off and landing, so Roman had to focus. In not much time, the dust beneath him had spread around him and he levitated. This caused many cheers from the people around him, making him smile and become a little more confident.

“Oh dear,” Virgil muttered from where he was clinging on to Roman’s shoulder. “You know I hate flying,” but no one heard him say the second part as it was lost in the cheers.

The broom levitated off the ground for a few seconds before slowly falling back to the floor, much to Roman’s dislike. So, Roman did the only logical thing and gave the handle a good whack before he touched down again, which caused to broom to fly off rather suddenly upwards and then forward, making the crowd gasp. Roman hit a tree on his way out, making the little bells which were hung up there ring as he bounced back from that tree. Virgil, however, was screaming at Roman and could be heard well.

“VEER RIGHT! Go left go left go left-” Virgil yelled at him.

“Okay!” Roman yelled back and they hit another tree, making a sound of surprise, making more bells sound.

“Aim your broomstick…” Roman’s mother held her hands together and wished for Roman to be safe.

After a few seconds of nothing happening, Roman’s voice could be heard again.

“Farewell all of you! I’ll miss you!” He shouted and everyone sighed in relief.

“He’s okay,” one of Roman’s friends said thankfully.

“May our little prince be well and have a safe trip,” Roman’s dad said as he listened to the bells which kept sounding, the only sounds left from Roman’s exit. One of his neighbours said he would miss the sound of the bells.

And just like that, Roman flew off, away from home, under the stars in the clear night above him and the light of the moon guiding his way. But that was only the beginning of his trip, for there was a long time ahead of him, but for now he was happy and flying up high in the sky, excited for what adventures might come in the future.

Next

[nadineselfships-archived]

Please tell more about these children please, also omg so many, (like my uncles and Tías) you two gonna get lots of gran-kids.-☆~=

ASkafkshfkashksf I didn’t think anyone would be interested in my babies oh my gosh thank you?? And yes ten is a lot of kids I will admit,, really they first came to life when Remy (my big sibling) told me they had a dream about me and Wade and our small army of children. (in their dream their was a lot more than ten but damn i don’t think I could handle that.) Okay here we go, Dadpool and co.

I’m gonna name them all from oldest to youngest;

Katherine, (16)

Vincent, (12)

Daniel, (11)

Pietro and Wanda, (the twins) (guess who their named after) (9)

Logan, (9)

Peter, (7)

Abigail, (6 1/2)

Lucy, (5)

Natasha. (3)

You probably noticed some familiar names in there, that’s because; one, I am not creative and two, I am very close with other people in the universe and I wanted to name my kids after them okay.

Kathrine is the oldest and is a stubborn hothead, (Wade would say “just like you!’ and I would hit him. Even if it’s true.) she’s a bookworm and loves astrology and anything to do with space. But she also is very interesting in fighting and is always asking Wade to ‘show her some moves’. Surprisingly I was for this idea and Wade was against, as Katherine was our first child she was like glass to him, he didn’t want anything to happen to her and he didn’t want her to be anything like him. (aahhh that hurts to write.) He gives in and teaches her some ‘advance’ self defense. So my baby is booksmart and street smart. She likes to enter school competitions and go on excursions like any normal kid, but she also likes to study or learn some more fighting techniques instead of meeting or making freidns with people her age. Since i’m very close with the avengers and the X-men she always finds ways to hang out with them whenever she can. Wade is always a little worried about her hanging out with all these ‘heroes’ because he thinks Katherine will realize her Dad isn’t as great as she thinks he is and she’ll want one of them to ‘be her new Dad’ or whatever else his crazy mind comes up with. (He’s wrong, Katherine has every little tiny piece of Deadpool merchandise, talks about her ‘amazing, awesome’ dad on her blog and too people at school, is ready to fight anyone who bad mouths her Dad and she always gets him #1 Dad cups. Also on her HANDMADE birthday cards she always makes sure he knows he’s her hero.) (My baby girl is aware of her Dads ever growing doubt and is just a very self aware, genius, amazing girl and I love her.) She’s a daddy’s girl, if you couldn’t tell. She also loves her siblings, very much, she will fight anyone who dares upset them and she’s the one they all run to at school if they need help.

Vincent is the second eldest, he’s very calm and laid-back; he likes to help people and if he weren’t so popular i’m sure he’d be called a teacher’s pet. His kind and welcoming nature naturally draws people to him, he has a lot of friends and discourages them from being jerks and is basically like a mini messiah teaching other little kids to be nice. (he’s so sweet I love my baby.) Vincent is very much a momma’s boy, he helps me around the house, he goes with me everytime I go shopping, he’s always showing me his work and is the kid to see me walk into school and yell at his friends, “THAT’S MY MUM!” before rushing up to hug me. He’s very affectionate, he’s also very soft, he dabbles in sports but he really has a passion for music. His favourite genre is classical and Wade and I got him a violin for his tenth birthday. He was so happy he put on a little concert for us the next night, he’s not the fastest learner and there were messed up chords here and there but we gave him a standing ovation naturally. (with hard work and determination my baby can now play some amazing songs that I do not know the name of because classical isn’t really my thing, but i’m so proud of him.) Vincent, like Katherine, I svery protective of his siblings. He looks up to Katherine and is always looking for his big sisters approval, (which she give more often than not.) He sticks close with Daniel, Logan and Peter. He protects Daniel from bullies and causes mischief with Logan and Peter. Daniel is a very shy, quiet boy; he likes to be around books and just out of sight from people if he can. (He has social anxiety and has had two panic attacks, both in school.) He was the quietest when he was a baby, and most cooperative. Wade is always saying that Daniel is too quiet to be our kid, as we’re both very loud and brash individuals; but then again Wade always says these kids are too beautiful to be his. (my husband needs to stop being so hard on himself I swear that man,,) Daniel has told us that some other kids have bothered him once or twice, (Wade was pulling out his katanas and I was getting ready to tear some parents heads off, but Katherine and Vincent are somehow more grown up than their parents and calmed us both down.) I did nearly tear the principals head off though, Wade managed to find out who the kids were and they got suspended. (And the parents got the shit scared out of them by my amazingly intimidating husband, I love him so much.) Daniel is very interested in flowers and animals, he can name a lot of flowers off the top of his head and their meaning and has listed a lot of different butterflies, my children are geniuses what the heck. He’s very attached to Katherine and Vincent as they’re his big siblings and they have been there at time Wade and I weren’t able to be.  Logan teases Daniel a lot as Daniel sometimes has a stutter, we’re working on getting him not make fun of his brother but their little humans and they do what they will. Pietro and Wanda are my twin angels!! It’s very obvious who their named after, their both very polite and very playful. They do almost everything together but they do like to involve other people or their siblings in their games. They’re both very imaginative and while I am so proud of my babies beautiful minds it does make them slack off a bit in school, they can’t focus for very long in class and would rather doodle in their book or make up crazy game/story ideas. I had the exact same problems while I was in school so I suggested to Wade we get them check for adhd or something like that, Wade was iffy about it and said they were just kids being hyper, imaginative kids. (I honestly just want to go on about how Wade interacts with them all because he is so loving and understanding and patient and he just slows down so much when he’s with them, he wants them all to know he’s giving them his utmost attention and support and love and GOD I LOVE THIS MAN.) It turns out they do have adhd (I have adhd and so i’m basing theirs sort of on mine.) and it’s a pretty sever case of it, we’ve worked very hard on getting all our kids top notch education because we did not get the best and we want to give them what we never had. (but we don’t want to force them in an environment where they won’t learn or grow so instead we choose another route of alternative learning.) It’s not home schooling because neither Wade or I am fit to teach anyone anything, It’s a mixture of distance education and a group that is based more around active learning. (So they can focus easier because their doing stuff with their hands and being fully immersed into the learning process.) They like to create things, anything, they have a new hobby every day and never really stick to one thing. Wade and I love this about our children and we’re happy to go along with whatever they choose to do on that day. Wanda and Pietro love to dress Lucy and Natasha up and show them off to everyone because, “look at our cute younger siblings, look.”Logan is Wade, moving on. No, okay, but really, if Wade was a nine year old boy, he’d be Logan. Logan is a trouble maker, he has a heart of gold but he loves to cause trouble anywhere he can. Pranks are his thing. He loves chimichangas and Mexican food almost more than wade does, he loves video games more than anyone i’ve ever known. If Logan is playing video games, pulling a prank on his siblings, or eating, he is napping. With his Dad. On the couch. (*sigh* my boys, I love my boys.) Logan is constantly roping Peter into helping him with pranks, Peter just likes hanging out with his sibling and doesn’t mind whatever they’re doing. While Logan is a big mischief maker, he does truly have the biggest heart. He sneaks in stray/injured animals so he can take care of them (you know i’m buying random animal food and helping take care of that little baby too, Wade will definitely try to get me to keep them all.) He sits with his younger siblings if they’ve had a nightmare, he makes me and Wade #1 Coolest Mum and #1 Coolest Dad things, he’s always saying when he’s older he’s gonna change the world and fix so many problems. He donated his pocket money to a homeless shelter,, asfhlkshflhjf- my boy- (it was only like fifty bucks at the time but that’s still a lot of money tbh) He loves being with his dad and pretending to ‘fight’ him, Wade will obviously feign losing and Logan will revel in his victory. Logan likes to bake cakes with me even though he decorates them,,, creatively. (vvv messy,, but it’s always made with love and that’s what counts.)Peter, named after the one and only spider dude, is a little bundle of sunshine and I love him. He’s so positive, and sweet and always has something nice to say. He’s a tad clumsy and can trip over air but that’s okay because we’re always there to catch him. My poor baby gets sick very easily but he’s tough and always pulls through. (the first time Katherine got sick Wade burst into tears, he got so scared, she had the stomach bug and was throwing up a lot. Wade dotted on her hand and foot, didn’t let hr move and inch, he sang her to sleep and did not leave her side until she was better and talking about stars and galaxies again.) Wade is always very concerned with how easily Peter gets sick, but doesn’t show it. Peter is very optimistic and is always reassuring everyone he’s fine. He loves soccer, he’s a little champion. He’s also dubbed himself Natasha’s bodyguard, he’s always carrying her around and always boasting about how cute his little sister is. Peter is terrified of big bugs, especially spiders, but if there’s one near Natasha he is going to get a big plastic container and capture the threat, escort it outside and run back inside screaming at a very high pitch as it scurries the opposite direction.Abigail is my darling princess, and also a very big tsundere. (i’m assuming everyone knows what that means.) Her favourite name for Wade is “butthead”, she has many other creative names for everyone else but I just really love butthead, it’s really my favourite. (mostly because Wade just laughs at it and can never think of what to say to it.) (She’s a big Daddy’s girl but that means he gets a lot of the hitting and name calling and whatnot.) She’s really very sweet, she likes acting and has been in three plays now. She won’t tolerate bullying, she stands up for some of the kids that can’t stand up for themselves. But then she calls them dumb for listening to what the jerkheads were saying and it’s just a lot of mixed signals, she’s trying her best okay. She talks to me a lot, i’ve held her while she’s cried more times than i’d like, my baby just doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions very well but she’s trying so hard. (she’s six and a half and already having trouble, is this my fault, am I bad parents?) She has a select few friends, as not many of the sensitive children her age can deal with her small outbursts, but her friends are very lovely and understanding. (it’s mostly the people she stands up for that end up being friends with her, because my baby is an actual angel and wonderful company once she is comfortable with you.) She mainly hangs out with Lucy and they both follow Katherine around like little ducklings. Abigail and Logan,,, do not get along,,, at all,,, Logan my baby I know it’s easy to rile your sister up but could you not please. Lucy is a normal five year old, she likes to play in the mud, make flower crowns, pet dogs, doodle very abstract things on the walls. She is near sighted and needs glasses, (Katherine has glasses too, to help correct her lazy eye.) she loves playing dress up and being with her siblings. She has a speech impediment and so she can’t pronounce some words but luckily no one makes fun of her for it, Wade carries her around on his shoulders and calls her his little princess. We give her princess outfits, tiara and everything. Their all very pretty outfits which I spend a lot of time cleaning after her backyard adventures. (I love my babies and am willing to spend hours doing laundry if it means they’ll be happy.) Lucy is very bubbly and the literal light of our lives, she gets along with all her siblings as she is the second youngest and is just very lovable and sweet. (I feel like i’m biased, I love my children and just keep saying how great they are, oh well.) Did I mention she loves bugs. Because, she does. I love having worms, beatles, crickets and whatnot dropped on my dinign room table, I love it. (I don’t love it.) Also this is not so good when Peter is with her and she pulls out a tarantula like, “Peter look, isn’t he cute?” No lucy, please put him down. Please. (Wade is in charge of getting rid of the bugs, I don’t do bugs. I am very strict on him not just squishing them though, killing of any kind stays outside my house.) And last but not least my lil’ baby Natasha!! She is three and already has a huge personality, she is very bashful and sweet. She loves to give people flowers, and just listen to people. It took her a lot longer to talk than any of our other kids and we were worried she couldn’t talk, she can, she’s just very soft spoken and prefers to listen. She likes to finger paint, on the walls, the floor, the roof,,, everywhere,,, It’s okay though, cleaning is now my new favourite past time. (it’s not. Save me Wade’s to lazy to clean.) (okay that’s a lie he will help out but very rarely.) Natasha is often being carried around by her older siblings, or Wade, or me, she’s three and she’s adorable and we love her okay. She loves sweets, and strawberries. She loves to spend time with animals, and she’s learning how to use my phone already. (accidently selfies are her specialty.) (gah I love her, I love my baby.) This is very long, I could go on even more, I love my kids. Ah okay, thank you so much for asking about my babies I never get to talk about this stuff, I really love them all so much and Wade does too. I need to draw them all at some point, i’ve drawn Wanda and Pietro and Peter and Natasha. There is this sketchy picture I have of all of us but it’s really rough and i’ve changed their designs in my head since then so,, yeah. (and omg don’t even mention grandkids, Wade would blow the entire planet up before he let anyone near his babies; “Oh so you wanna date my daughter/son, huh?” He pulls out his katana and runs his hand down it, pretending to observe it, “Interesting.” He’s gonna scare the crap out of so many teenagers, rip.)

[kolmikavlson-blog]

task 001. character questionnaire

kol mikaelson

BASIC INFORMATION.

what is your name? 

“Kol Mikaelson. Pleasure to meet me, I know. Kol — that’s K-O-L, by the way — isn’t short for anything, though people often seem to think it is for some reason. Father named me, in one of his rare moments of being uncharacteristically domineering, and he once said that he chose my name because I was to be resilient and powerful like the coals of the fire that gave us life. I really only remember this because it’s the only conversation that I ever had with the man...I was four. Mother always used to say that Trouble is my middle name, but I believe you ought to draw your own conclusions about that.”

what is your birthdate?

“Well, seeing as I not only possess many gifts but am myself a gift, I’m inclined to think that my birthday is either on Christmas Day or very close to it, but I don’t know for sure. Datekeeping wasn’t exactly a priority among our people, which, coincidentally enough, explains a lot about my family’s various romantic entanglements over the years. Anyway, the point is that I was born during a very cold winter. Apparently, Mum thought that I wouldn’t make it, but if there’s two things we Mikaelsons are it’s hot blooded and bad at dying. Except for Rebekah, who’s about as cold-blooded as they come and Henrik, who’s done a pretty good job at staying dead until recently, actually...”

where were you born?

“It’s Virginia — an awful little one horse town called Mystic Falls, to be specific — now, but back then it was just called the New World or Our Village. My family had come over from Norway some several years prior, so we were Vikings through and through. Considering that the last time I was home, I burst into flames after some moronic brother-sister act drove a stake through my heart in their kitchen, it’s safe to say I won’t be planning a visit any time soon.”

what is your gender and sexuality? 

“I’m male; not much more to it than that. I come from a time where you didn’t really have the option to be anything except what you were born as and even as things changed, I never felt the need to change myself. As for my sexuality, I’ve preferred the company of women over the years, but have found that this face works on just about everyone.”

are you a supernatural being? 

“My family and I are the first vampires in history. We’re the oldest, strongest, fastest and most powerful of our kind. Every vampire in the world exists because of us, and it’s only by our grace that they remain alive seeing as we could tear the heads off every last one of them and still have time for a bourbon before the bar closes. It seems young vampires — especially the local ones — often forget that, but, then, they’re foolish and arrogant. We take no issue with reminding them just who is responsible for their tedious little lives.”  

PERSONALITY.

what are your personality types? (zodiac? mbti? enneagram? animal type? moral alignment? temperament? cardinal sin/virtue?)

“I’ve just got the one personality, actually, and the type is spectacular.” He’s a Capricorn, ENTP-T, type 3, rhino, chaotic neutral, choleric, cardinal sin is pride and cardinal virtue is fortitude YOU’RE WELCOME!!!

what is your default demeanor? 

“It’s been said that I’m unsettlingly jocund for being a complete psychopath which is just bunkum if you ask me. First of all, I’m not a complete psychopath and second of all, I prefer to think of myself as witty or endearingly ludic. I’m usually a lively one, but these days I have my more tranquil moments. It’s probably all the bourbon i’ve been drinking.”

how are you intelligent? 

“School wasn’t really a thing when I was a child, but I learned how to read and write. Mother also taught me a lot about magic growing up as I was a witch and she thought giving me something to do would calm me down — it didn’t, but I loved the magic and I still do, really. I traveled the world for a few centuries after I was turned and studied just about every kind of witchcraft there is. I could give my sister, aunt, and mother a run for their money all at the same time with my eyes closed and both hands tied behind my back. I wouldn’t even have to try very hard. I’m also quite fond of being sensible although — and don’t tell Elijah I admitted to this please — I tend to be rather impulsive on occasion. That just makes me all the more fun to be around, though, don’t you think? What am I gonna do next? What unbridled brilliance is about to come out of my mouth? Who knows? I don’t even know. I’m like a sentient cereal box and you never know what prize you’re going to get.”

how confident are you?

“Supposedly my ego can be a little much, but that’s a necessary evil if you ask me. My confidence, charm, smarts, good looks, skills, charisma, humor, and roguish yet inexplicably endearing disposition carry this family. Honestly, what would the Mikaelsons have without me? The answer is none of those things — especially not humor. I love my brothers and sisters, but let’s face it: they’re rough. I’m the star of this supernatural three-ring circus and that just so happens to require a certain level of self-assurance and finesse. Is it difficult? Sure. it demanding? Of course. Is it a burden? Sometimes, yes. But, what other choice do I have?”

what do you believe in? 

“I’ve been called superstitious before, but I prefer to think of myself as sensible and open-minded. I’ve been on this planet for a thousand years and in that time I’ve been a witch, a vampire, a ghost, a witch in someone else’s body, an ancestral spirit, and now I’m a vampire again, so I’ve seen things and it’s difficult to believe that anything would truly be impossible — especially with knowing all I know about magic. Over the course of my first life as a witch, I was taught that we were servants of nature, which had been created from the flesh and bone of Ymir the frost giant after he’d been killed by the sons of Bor — sounds like complete hogwash to people these days, but I never questioned it. I still don’t, but it’s not like I go around sacrificing deer and little bunny rabbits to appease the gods. I’ve traveled with a lot of cults, covens, and vampires nearly as old as me over my lifetimes, and most of them were almost frighteningly firm in their personal convictions. I’ve heard lots of legends, fairytales, and scary stories that may or may not have a modicum of truth to them and seriously contemplated just about all of them — but, I don’t think I’ve ever believed in anything, nor could I ever believe in anything else quite like I believe in Davina Claire. Every time, no matter what, my money is on her although if you ask me, that’s just smart thinking. She died. For good. Her soul was destroyed and who even knows what happened to her after that and yet she’s here. I pity anyone who’d be foolish enough to earn her ire.”  

PHYSICALITY.

how do you dress? 

“I think it’s pretty obvious that over the last millennium I’ve really cemented my status as The Best Dressed Original. People occasionally mistake that title for belonging to Elijah, which just baffles me because, honestly, look at him. He’s trying way too hard. Nik doesn’t try at all, and Rebekah and Freya dress fine, but look at me: style, class, elegance, casual yet undeniable roguish sex appeal and I wear a watch. I also have a daylight ring — lapis lazuli, spelled by the talented Miss Davina Claire. I always wear it because not only do I look great in blue, but it’s been my experience that nothing can ruin a day quite like bursting into flames at the worst possible moment.”

how do you carry yourself? 

“I have excellent posture, but I’m not Elijah stiff — admittedly one of my less impressive feats since it’s also been accomplished by every telephone pole, concrete wall, and wooden board that’s ever existed, but one I’m proud of nonetheless. I tend not to take up too much space unless I’m doing it intentionally to annoy someone — probably Rebekah — but, for the most part, growing up in a little hut along with five of my siblings did wonders for teaching me the values of keeping to myself. That’s also why I don’t particularly care for being touched; an entire childhood of my brothers putting their grubby little hands all over me whenever they felt like it didn’t quite endear me to random, unwelcome touches. So, really, my goal is to carry myself as someone who you wouldn’t touch without asking, but who you’d also be afraid to ask anyway.”

do you have any physical or verbal tics? 

“Well, Davina always knows when I’m lying — it’s a little creepy, actually — but I don’t know how she does it. I’ve been told that I’m too chatty, but I think it’s part of my charm. It’s not like I just jibber jabber without purpose. I can’t help that I always have something brilliant and interesting to say. Oh, and apparently my siblings and I have picked up some similar mannerisms over the years, which I suppose makes sense.You can’t spend a millennium with the same few people and not expect to pick up a few things from one another, right?”

how physical are you with others? 

“I don’t like being touched — especially not by strangers — and will happily rip off an appendage that creeps too far into my personal space for comfort.”

HUMAN CONNECTION.

how do you think strangers perceive you?

“I’m a Mikaelson and an Original, so it’s usually in a stranger’s — or anyone’s — best interest to tread carefully and refrain from testing the limits of my restraint. I’m supposed to be on my best behavior these days, but I’ll be damned if some of the insolent sods I’ve crossed paths with recently haven’t made a strong case for why I should try and justify their decapitation to my disapproving girlfriend.”

how do your friends see you? 

“Most of them don’t see me at all because they’re dead, but if they could see me then I imagine they’d tell me to ask those moronic Gilberts if murdering me — and them, by default  — was worth finding that silly cure and making their pathetic lives that much easier to end. Or perhaps they’d tell me to torture them; make them suffer for what they did to us. Surely with the Gilbert’s staunch devotion to their friends, they’d see why I couldn’t deny mine the indulgence of revenge for their untimely, unfair and pointless demises.”

what is your relationship with your parents like? 

“...Oh wow, you’re serious. Well, okay then. First of all, it’s very safe to say that Dear Old Dad wasn’t nicknamed Mikael The Destroyer because he loved cuddles and fuzzy little woodland creatures so much. All I really remember about him from when I was growing up is that he had a terrible temper and spent a lot of time beating the living daylights out of Niklaus. He never paid me much attention but I was terrified of him so I didn’t mind. I spent more time with Mother since she taught me magic. I think she loved me once, but we were never exactly close and Finn was her favorite son anyway, which tells you everything you need to know about how truly awful she could be. It was nice of her to bring me back from the dead, but then she started pestering me and using me like I was her puppet, because, what? That’s proven so effective in the past? She was a brilliant witch, probably the best I’ve ever known, but she didn’t know me at all. There was also the matter of her attempting to kill my siblings and I more than once, but, eh. If we Mikaelsons went around hating every relative who’s tried murdering us just for that reason alone, then none of us would be on speaking terms right now. Anyway, about Mother and Father, they’re dead — in a shocking and totally unexpected turn of events, Niklaus murdered them again. Honestly? I don’t miss ’em much.”

do you have any siblings? 

“No, I’m actually an only child.”

what do you look for in a romantic relationship? 

“Romantic is a very...strong word for any of my past...entanglements. What I used to look for were pretty little witches who I could manipulate into doing my bidding. And blood. And sex. There was never more to it than that for me before Davina. She changed everything as she tends to do and now I suppose we’re dating. Or maybe not? Dating might not be the right word; weird situation. We’re together, I think, but there’s more to it than dating and a little less to it than, you know, marriage. We’re not married — though I did consider trying to pull one over on Marcellus a few days ago by pretending we were, but ultimately I decided that she and I have spent enough time apart and that dying for good would really ruin the April Fool’s joke. Dying’s only funny when it’s happening to someone who isn’t me. Or Davina. Ah — Jeremy Gilbert! I’d laugh if he died; especially if I was the one who killed him.”

who are the most important people in your life? 

“Davina is the most important person to me. My family’s important, too, but if Nik or any of them think that they’re ever going to use her again to clean up one of their messes then they’ve got another thing coming and that thing is my fist. I know she can take care of herself, but it doesn’t stop me from being...overprotective might be the word, but I resent how Elijah it sounds — mostly because if Elijah even looks at her the wrong way, I’ll happily gouge his eyeballs out with his own cufflinks.”

BACKSTORY.

if your life were a work of fiction, what would your role be? 

“Despite the great pains my family has taken over the years to paint me as a villain or enemy of our family, I don’t think of myself that way. So what if I acted a little dodgy while everyone was going bonkers over their imbecilic treasure hunt for that damned cure? Rebekah’s slight personal discomfort was not worth bringing about the end of days so yeah, I threatened to stake her and I’d do it again if necessary. I do what’s best for me because no one else will, so if you’re not Davina Claire then you’re fair game and I’m not sorry about it. That doesn’t make me the bad guy; it makes me sensible.”

which events shaped your life? 

“Hm. Long life. There’s a lot I could say, but is it really necessary? We’ve already gone over just about everything. Original Vampire, loony family, very much in love, extremely handsome, murdered repeatedly. Am I a far more interesting, nuanced, and enticingly complex individual than that brief summary might suggest? Absolutely, which means I haven’t got the time to be repeating myself whilst discussing the finer details of my millennium that I’ve spent gallivanting around this godforsaken rock. You’ll just have to wait for the tell-all book.”

what is your most cherished memory? 

“Something with Davina; maybe the first time I saw her or the night we spent together right after she basically dragged me out of Hell, which is coincidentally where everything went to immediately afterward. Still, it reminded me of why I wanted to be alive so badly in the first place. I wanted to be happy with her.”

which memory keeps you up at night?

“Also something with Davina...that I don’t like to talk about.”

what are your goals for the future? 

“Being with Davina, not dying, spending time with my niece and defending my family. Shoving the rotting, decapitated corpses of Elena Gilbert and her annoying little brother into a dumpster where they belong might also be a good time, but I’d settle for a dark alleyway or nice, deep body of water as well.”

PREFERENCES.

what is your taste in music? 

“I’m quite fond of music, actually. I’ve been catching up on the recent decades that I’ve missed out on and while there’s certainly no shortage of complete tommyrot, I’ve managed to find a few gems in all of the rubbish. I’m particularly fond of jazz or anything that you can dance to, really, but I also like some heavier stuff.”

what is your taste in film? 

“Seeing as I was asleep in a coffin for nearly a century, then murdered, then resurrected, then murdered again, the resurrected again, then put into a deep sleep for fifteen years to keep me from being murdered again, I haven’t really had much time to get acquainted with films and television, but I’ve heard they’re both just a waste of time anyway. I would like to see that one film with the Viking kids and the dragons, though, just to point out any historical inaccuracies...aside from the dragons, I mean, because at least that’s an amusing historical inaccuracy.”

what is your taste in literature? 

“I do have quite the collection of grimoires and other books on magic, but never really bothered with diving too deeply into novels or magazines or — ugh — poetry. There’s only so many hours in the day, you know?”

what are your favourite hobbies or activities? 

“Listening to music and studying magic are my oldest hobbies, but I have other interests. Baseball...murder...the occasional nap. I hate to be bored, so anything that keeps me entertained is usually preferable to doing nothing.”  

this or that: sweet or salty? quiet or loud? midnight or daybreak? cats or dogs? hot or cold? big party or small gathering? bath or shower? amusement park or art exhibit? ocean or mountains? pen or pencil? passenger or driver? cake or pie? leather or lace?

“Let’s see, in order...both, I like it loud, midnight, cats, cold, big party, depends on who’s joining me, neither, mountains, pen, driver, blood, and either so long as Davina’s wearing it.”

SUPERNATURAL.

how did you find out about supernatural forces? 

“I was born a witch in a village full of werewolves, so supernatural has always been about the norm for yours truly.”

how do you feel about your powers? 

“I hated them at first. I’d been a witch — a powerful one, at that — but then I was turned and suddenly had nothing. I mean, I had other powers, but I always missed the rush of practicing magic. I spent the better part of a millennium chasing after that feeling and trying to get it in other ways, but nothing quite did it for me. I was actually glad when mother decided to shove my soul into some nearly useless witch body even though it meant that I was stuck with her and Finn, who had gone completely bonkers at this point, by the way. Then I was murdered — by a pathetic little hex, of all things — and it was...enlightening, I guess. I’d missed my actual body anyway, but after dying from a silly little spell, I couldn’t help but really want my durable, familiar, immortal original body back. At least nothing could kill me as a vampire — well, I mean, obviously something did kill me at one point, but there’s not supposedly not a single splinter of White Oak left in the whole world nowadays. The only thing that kill me now is Marcellus, and while I’m not about to push my luck, I highly doubt he’s going to before Niklaus bullies him into running back across the river with his little werewolf tail between his legs. I like being immortal and thinking about all the trouble that magic has caused me — and people that I really care about — in recent years makes it difficult to remember why I ever used to complain about being a vampire, especially seeing as I’m one of the most powerful vampires who’s ever existed and I can mostly control myself nowadays.”

how do you feel about species other than your own?

“Young vampires — and werewolves, witches, humans...everyone, really...is just so arrogant and misguided these days. Their blind hedonism is loud and frustrating. Regardless, I do have a certain fondness and respect for witches, though the affection is rarely returned. I’ve never really liked werewolves seeing as their kind killed my younger brother — not to mention that I never much cared for dogs anyway — but Hope and Hayley are the exceptions; not Nik, though. I don’t like him most of the time and he’s a prick.”

if you could, would you re-start with a mundane human life?

“Humans are fragile and they die, so no.”

WILDCARDS.

what would one find in your car, in your garbage can, on your nightstand?

“Trash, more trash...a book, maybe, but also some more trash...my phone, and probably a blood bag or two.”

who was your first crush? what attracted you to them?

*imagine a nostalgic dreamy sigh here ok* “Tatia Petrova, the most beautiful woman in our whole village and the B.D. — Before Davina — love of my life. It’s a tragic story. We wanted each other desperately, but she was afraid of her feelings for me so she tried to hide them and even went so far as to settle for my brother...then my other brother. Then she died, which I can only assume is what happens when you fall that deeply into a pit of denial and despair like she did after it became clear that we could never be.”

where do you find yourself dwelling the most: the past, the present or the future?

“These days it’s probably the past, but I suspect that Davina would like to have a future talk at some point — which I’m not really sure that I’m looking forward to, if I’m being honest — but I imagine it’ll at least switch things up for a change.”

is it okay for you to cry? when was the last time you cried?

“Father used to insist that men don’t cry, but I don’t think you can help it sometimes. In fact, I know you can’t. I have nightmares — ugly things. They tend to get loud.”

what is the worst thing that can be done to a person?

“They could die. Obviously.”

what is your deepest, most well-hidden kink?

“It’s not really hidden, but we vampires tend to have a...penchant for bloodsharing. What can I say? It’s a turn on.”

[that-is-vexing]

BOND/Q COLLEGE AU!!!

HERE HAVE A WHOLE SET OF ONE-SHOTS THAT I WROTE FOREVER AGO THAT ISN’T FINISHED YET!!!!!!

But actually, I can also share part of the next oneshot with you guys:

“So this is where you grew up?”

“Yeah.”

Q stared out at the view, entranced. James snuck a glance athim and smiled slightly.

“We can go hiking tomorrow, if you want,” he offeredoffhandedly. “We are gonna be here several days. Did you bring your boots?”

“Mm-hm. Can we really?”

“Yeah. I’ll show you all the best hiding places.” He shot Qa grin as they approached a rusting, run-down gate. “I used to playhide-and-seek with Kincade for hours. Of course, he called it “trying to catchthat bloody bairn in time for dinner”, but that’s because he didn’t like me forthe first four years of my life.”

“What! I don’t believe you,” Q chuckled, punching James’shoulder lightly.

“It’s true, I was an unholy terror when…” James trailed off,as they pulled up to the house, and his expression became closed. Q stared,slightly disturbed by how quickly his friend had shut down. But then James wasunbuckling and climbing out of the car. Q followed, swinging his rucksack up onto his shoulder. He had his laptop with him, as well as his new and improvedportable solar panel for recharging the battery. He was going to work on vacation; as R, they needed him almost as muchas they needed Uncle Boothroyd. He’d just do it between hikes and explorations.

“James!”

An older man with a graying beard stepped around the cornerof the house—manor, really—and beamed. James laughed and strode to him.“Kincade! It’s been too long!”

“That it has,” Kincade chuckled, and shifted his shotgun outof the way so he could exchange a hug with James. Then Kincade’s eye fell on Q,still standing awkwardly by the car, and his grin turned sly. “And you must bethe Q he wrote about in his letters,” the old man greeted him.

“Yes, I am,” Q answered, with an amused glance at James; hewrote letters? And they included Q? James looked a bit pink, but he had hismost pleasant poker-face on. He must be very embarrassed indeed. “Pleased tomeet you, Mr. Kincade.”

“Just Kincade to any friend of James’. Come on, both of you,let’s get to my house. This place is too dreary today.”

James went with him gladly, so Q did, too.

James and Kincade chatted comfortably about the contents ofJames’ letters and the few interesting things that had happened to Kincade, andQ listened with half an ear, admiring the landscape and looking often at themanor. Then they turned away from it, and James suddenly pulled Q into theconversation.

“Hey, Q, why was Eve so excited about her motorcycle, I’veforgotten.”

“Liar,” Q sighed, “You never forget anything related to hermotorcycle. I modified it so it was quieter, but it’s got a few extrahorsepower,” he told Kincade, who did seem a little interested. “I also helpedher paint it, so now it’s matte black. She’s… very grateful.”

“She said she’d buy him ice cream every day for ten years,even though he’s the most expensive of our lot,” James elaborated, and laughedas Q made to kick him and missed.

“It’s not my fault all the good ice cream is expensive!”

“Yeah, but it’s your fault you’re so picky when it comes todessert and nothing else.”

“Picky? Who’s the one who won’t eat Ferrer Roche becausethey look like poop pebbles?”

“They do, though!”

They bickered back and forth for a while about sweets until Jamessuddenly turned on Kincade and demanded to know his opinion, and that set off atotally new tangent with all three of them arguing whether sours were better.

Kincade’s cottage was a cozy affair, and Q liked it at once.There was only one bedroom, but the big room that was sitting room, kitchen,library, and dining room all in one had a fireplace, within which danced a small,cheerful blaze, and the rug before the hearth was thick and soft. Q wouldn’tmind camping out here. In fact, James went right to the fire and dumped hissleeping bag and backpack next to it, on the opposite side from the stack offirewood. Q followed his example, looking around with interest. He sawelectrical appliances, though they were few, and a tall floor-lamp beside anold padded rocking chair. Most of the light came from the opened shutters,though. There was another chair, an armchair, that looked comfy and well-used.James immediately flopped into that.

Q found he was shivering, and drifted closer to the fire.There was nowhere else to sit, and he knew the rocking chair must be Kincade’s,so he settled cross-legged near the hearth with his back to the fire and soakedup the warmth.

“This is a very nice home you have,” he told Kincade, as thegroundskeeper settled into the rocking chair.

“Thank you, lad,” Kincade answered comfortably. “I hear youlike hikin’.”

“I’m out of practice, but yes. I used to think I was goingto be an artist—trying to draw landscapes and the like—but coding is an art,too.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I’ve never touched a computer.”

“Never?” Q’s eyes widened and he knew he looked unhealthily stunned.“Everyone’s used a computer theseday, even if it was for only one game of Solitaire!”

“Never had reason to,” Kincade replied, smiling indulgently.Q wondered what he must think of Q. What James’ letters had made him out to be.But he couldn’t just come right out and ask, now, could he? So he just shookhis head in wonder. Even the oldest nanas and grandads he knew had at least tried a computer.

But that wasn’t why they were here. So he asked, “Are theretrails near here?”

“Afraid not,” Kincade answered. “You’ll have to make duewith James’ bad memory.”

“My memory’s not thatbad!” James objected, rolling his eyes. Q smiled. James had the best memory Qknew of; it was just that he rarely used it for anything except studying. “Iremember everywhere I fell down.”

Kincade’s chuckle was a warm, bear’s rumble of a laugh. “Aslong as ye don’t toss him down a slope.”

Q’s smile widened. “I’ve been taking several self-defenseclasses. I believe I can dodge if he tries anything.”

They continued to chat, and then Kincade asked if they’d haddinner yet. When they answered in the negative, he stood and told James, “You’dbetter not have forgotten how to shoot a rifle, lad. We’re off for some supper.Have you ever shot anything?” Kincade asked Q.

Q nodded, then clarified reluctantly, “Only paper targets,though. And I’m only proficient with handguns.”

“I’ll be teaching you to shoot, then, while you’re here,”the groundskeeper decided firmly. “Come along, James. Will you be coming too?”

“No, I’ll only get in the way. May I set up my laptop?” Qasked, gesturing to his laptop case.

“Of course. We won’t be long.”

~

James was proud that he hadn’t lost any aim. Of course, onceQ had gotten him a visitor’s pass, Eve had taken to dragging James to the MI6shooting range every other day, and James had been able to polish up. Now heshowed off by bagging the rabbit before Kincade could see it. Kincade raised aneyebrow, and James flushed.

“You forgot to mention that in your letters,” the groundskeepercommented, striding over to fetch the bunny. James followed, eyeing the groundwarily. Kincade could navigate the area blindfolded at night, but it had beenyears since James was here.

“Mention what?” he asked.

“That you’ve been keepin’ up your shooting,” Kincadeelaborated blandly. Then, because he was a cruel, cruel man, he added, “And youforgot to mention that you fancy your roommate.”

James slipped then and almost fell, but caught himselfquickly. “I do not!” he snapped, buthe could feel his face and neck turn a fiery red.

“No need to hide it from me, lad,” Kincade chuckled. “Iwon’t tell.”

But there was a secretive glint in his eye, and it madeJames uneasy.

When they returned to the cottage, it was to find Q on theroof, affixing something to the peak.

“Oh, James, Kincade!” he greeted them cheerfully, and Jamescould hear the tremor in his voice. He’d picked up speed before he could think,until he was climbing up the ladder quickly, shotgun left leaning against thewall of the cottage. “So glad you’re here. I seem to be stuck. I thought I’d befine—it’s only one storey—so I should be alright, shouldn’t I?”

“You’re a dolt,” James scolded, but his tone was moreanxious than angry as he crawled up the roof to where Q sat. Tension wasvisible in every line of Q’s body, and he was trembling. “Come here, I’ll helpyou down. Come on. I’ve got you. It’s gonna be fine.”

Murmuring soothingly, James coaxed Q into slithering more orless into James’ arms, and then helped him back up until their feet stuck out overthe edge of the roof. James went first, and guided Q’s feet down. When Q wasactually on the ladder, he lost some of his tension; but James kept close,blocking the other in with his body so he wouldn’t fall, even though really itwasn’t at all that far to the ground.

As soon as they were standing on solid ground again, though,Q gasped and exclaimed, “The wiring! I forgot the wiring! It’s my solar panel,I was going to see if it works here, but I didn’t do anything about thewiring!”

“We’ll do it tomorrow,” James promised, wrapping his armaround Q’s shoulders. “For now, we have some rabbit for dinner. Let’s getinside. It gets dark early around here.”

~

Q didn’t prefer rabbit, but Kincade was an excellent cook,and Q ate two helpings. Kincade tried to convince him to take another—“Skinnyas you are, you could use some more meat on your bones.”—but Q politelydeclined, and instead withdrew to the hearth to fiddle with his laptop. Jamesmurmured to be excused and went over to sit on the floor next to Q, leaningback on his hands.

“What’re you up to now?” James asked in a murmur.

“Nothing much,” Q answered absently, “Just commandeering asatellite so I can get a decent internet connection.”

“You can do that?”

“I can do anything,” Q murmured without pride.

James smiled. Kincade saw, and smirked; Q didn’t, andtherefore was completely surprised when James wrapped an arm around hisshoulders.

“Can you get Netflix on that?” James inquired innocently.

“You just want to watch Sean Bean,” Q accused, butteasingly.

“Hell yes I do.”

So Q pulled up Netflix, and they watched a Sean Bean film.He didn’t notice how he leaned against James, nor how James seemed to watch Q morethan the movie. Kincade noticed, but since the younger men were facing awayfrom him, neither of them saw his sly looks.

Q did notice when James’ arm slid down from around Q’sshoulders to around his waist, hugging him closer still. Q almost went rigid inalarm—but James wasn’t looking at him, and anyway, wasn’t this something he’dlonged for? To actually be cuddled?

So, carefully, Q laid his head on James’ shoulder, and theycontinued watching.

When the film was over, Q didn’t want to move. He was warm,and comfortable, and James seemed reluctant to move as well. So Q quicklypulled up a show they’d been watching together for a while, just so he wouldn’thave to move away—and then the arm around his waist shifted, and James stood,his hand not quite brushing against Q’s back and the nape of his neck. Q lookedup, surprised, but James was turned to Kincade, asking, “Is it alright if we camphere? We have sleeping bags.”

“Isn’t anywhere else to sleep,” Kincade answered with ashrug, though his eyes twinkled and he smirked, as if he knew a secret. Qlooked up at James again, who seemed confused; and then all of a sudden heblushed and scowled, and Q stared, stunned. But James recovered quickly,stomping to their bags and wrestling free their sleeping bags. Q set his laptopaside and went to help.

By the time they had everything set out properly (with Qclosest to the fire), Q was yawning. James pointed imperiously; Q obedientlycrawled into his sleeping bag, set his laptop in sleep-mode, and snuggled downa little deeper. The sleeping bag was just worn enough to be comfortable, andjust new enough to be warm and fluffy. Someone plucked the glasses from hisface; he murmured a sleepy thank-you and closed his eyes. Within four breaths,he was out like a light.

He woke because an arm was settling over his waist. He couldtell by the stillness of the body pressed against his that the person the armbelonged to was still dead asleep. That made him smile, and he fell asleepagain, feeling warm and comfortable and, most importantly, safe.

[waldos-writing]

World Hungers for Bones: Chapter 8

Nobody Writes a Letter -June 17th, 2000-

Who in their right mind decides to live in Nebraska? Not just that, but in a little you couldn’t find on your average map? Who rolls their dusty old Cadillac through town, looking for cheap accommodations at a shitty little motel called the Tempest Inn when, get this, The Gold Star Stay is right next door but the thing is condemned? Two motels. In Jonas, Nebraska. But that isn’t even the start, because besides moving to Nebraska to a little town you couldn’t find on your average map and staying at a shitty little motel called the Tempest Inn across from The Gold Star Stay, there was also a promise thrown into the mix. Oh yeah. Promise to meet up at the only burger join in town. Two motels. One burger joint. Three bars. A comic shop. Priorities were out of whack.

Anyways, right, promise to meet up at the only burger joint in town every day and go over some new spells with a skittish little twerp who fought what he learned the entire time. Yes decided she liked that best about him, but damn if it wasn’t at least a little aggravating.

But who does that? Yes had half a mind to change her name to Nobody; it suited her better. Somebody else held that epithet.

She was an early riser. Yes came up before the sun and liked it that way. She picked out amulets from a small velvet bag she kept on her person, one she’d Written all over. It gave her silver moon rings and bells on bangles and the little tiger-eye stone earrings. She dressed and brushed her teeth and looked through the Book. It was a peaceful ritual.

Yes was just about done deciding what they were going to learn that day when there was a knock on her door. A quick three tapper, soft, discreet, and gone before she had a chance to ask, “Hello?” or “Who’s there” or “Whad’ya want?” Yes closed the Book and tucked it up into her leather vest so that it made a blocky shield over her heart. Almost obscene, just snug enough that she didn’t mind.

Yes checked the peephole first but saw nothing. She rested scorched fingertips on the door for a moment. Nothing to feel, but there was that unmistakable scent of cinnamon and orange peels.

“How?” she whispered and whipped the door open.

Empty.

Yes shot her head out the door and looked left, then right, expecting a mob. He liked to send out goons before he showed up on his own. Made it neat and tidy for his arrival. But, instead of goons, there was an envelope on the floor with a small black rock placed on top to keep it from drifting away in the wind. Yes stared down at it in silence. She almost kicked it away and turned to slam the door.

“Alright,” she said the floor. “Alright, fine. You wanna go? I’ll go.”

There was a name on the letter in short, clean lines. He had her name. Nobody was the only one left who had it. He held her in those lines. He grabbed her in that ink.

Yes punted the rock away with a swift kick and dragged the letter inside. When she closed the door and locked it, she drew her wards and locked it again and again, doubling down, tripling down.

Yes stared at the envelope with her name as she sat on the bed. She’d have to read it. She’d have to face it, sooner or later. The Book’s corners dug painfully into her stomach rolls, but she didn’t move to relieve the pressure. She’d graft her skin over the Book and lock it in her chest if it meant she’d get away.

“Well,” she said, resigned, painfully tired, but read. “Shit.”

  It was No’s idea to go to Burger King, of course. He said that since he still didn’t really know her and he wasn’t going to just let some stranger figure out where he lived right off the bat, they needed a place. No got a ride in a big old pick-up truck from a girl who was juts barely old enough to drive. She had dark hair in twin braids and a face that matched his. That was the unnamed oldest sister. Turned out No had a big family, which was something. Yes didn’t know why she was surprised. Maybe because she’d been an only child and many of the other witches she knew were the same. Most were only children, many had lost parents, grand parents, hell the trunk of their family tree. Lot of orphan witches. It’s how it was, she thought, but she thought wrong.

“Hey there,” said Yes, swinging her keys on a rope lanyard. “You hungry?”

“I ate,” said No, like he did every time. “Are you?”

“Nah,” she answered in kind. “You ready?”

“Ready.”

This was their routine, their ritual. Then they’d get into Yes’s caddie and drive out to the hills. No might not trust her with the location of his family, but he seemed easy enough with hitching a ride. Kids have dumb priorities.

They got into the old beast and started for the road. No didn’t have any more trouble with the door, which stuck sometimes. He knocked it with his cane and it popped open for him easy as grease. Yes had taught him the sigil for the door on their first ride and he had it down so quick, she wasn’t even sure she saw him draw it anymore.

“What’re we learning today?” asked No as he slide his hand over his chest, the closest thing he had to a seat belt. Magic would hold him better anyways.

Yes touched her pocket where the note was burning hot as fire. The thing would probably engulf her in hellfire by the end of the day. Dramatics and hyperbole, sure, but Nobody had her name and number and it was up.

“Gonna teach you something special, kiddo,” said Yes and revved the old Cadillac’s engine.

It wasn’t a long drive. Shorter still cause it was so early and no one really out on the road except a few ranch hands and busy morning people. Yes had her eyes peeled wide for anybody walking along that didn’t look like they belonged. She wasn’t a regular yet, but she was good with faces and familiar with the usual crowd. None of them were wearing black coats, none getting out of a gunpowder gray BMW, none of that familiar aroma. Her heart was pounding hard all the same.

“Are you alright?” No asked.

“Hmm?” Yes could see out of her peripheral that he was watching her, reading her. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” said No. He studied her hard and she didn’t care for that shit at all. “You keep looking around like somebody’s gonna pop out and shoot you or something.”

“Or something.”

“What?”

“Nah, nothing. It’s nothing.”

Yes wrung the steering wheel, trying hard to relax. She touched her bangles and adjusted the rings so that the smiling moons looked up. The bag had picked them for her. The bag knew what she needed, always did. Yes fingered the cat-eye earrings. Those were last. They had to be last to count.

“So, you’re alright?” he asked again, persistent.

“Sure am,” said Yes, her heartbeat thumping in her throat hard enough the artery might burst.

“Mm,” said No and bit his lip. He looked away, focusing on the road stretched out ahead of them. “Okay.”

The hill where they first met and subsequently practiced for two weeks now was a couple of miles outside of Jonas. It was technically the property of a Mr. Flowers, some rancher from Arthur, but the space was out in the open and no one had said nothing when they were there. Yes saw the hill coming up, saw No all quiet and sullen in the seat next to her, and kept driving.

“H-hey,” he said, pointing out the window as the hill came and went. When it was in the rearview mirror, he twisted around to watch it. “We…we passed it. Where’re we going?”

“Mm,” said Yes and nodded.

“You’re not gonna tell me?”

“Not yet,” she answered, and grimaced when she did. It was like she had just admitted to kidnapping.

“Why?”

“Just a surprised,” she said and gave him a small smile. It was not a confident one.

For a moment, in a crazy panic, Yes thought, hell, let’s do it. Let’s go. She thought she was going to just keep driving. She’d take them all the way across Nebraska and then maybe out west, see where the Cadillac ended and then they’d walk and hitch a ride and keep going until they found the ocean, and then beyond the ocean. She’d heard there was a way you could find Atlantis. Fine, she thought, let’s go find Atlantis. She’d already got No to trust her, she’d just take him with her and No, more powerful than she’d ever be, would protect her. He’d be by her side until the end. Nobody could never get her then.

Yes was ready to smash her foot on the accelerator and just go, go, go, but No had a ratty backpack on his lap. He dug around in it and finally pulled out a small action figure of a cowboy on a palomino. He looked at it, head tilted and nose scrunched up, before he finally sighed and said, “Jamie.”

“What’s that?” Yes asked, trying to be casual.

“It’s just one of Jamie’s stupid toys,” No answered, reverently brushing the plastic finish of the horse. “He must’ve stuck it in there the other night. We were fighting about…something.”

“Fighting about what?”

“No, it’s stupid. It’s nothing.”

“Aw, come on.”

“It’s just stuff,” he mumbled and shoved the cowboy toy back into his bag. “Dumb stuff. He’s….” No sucked in another breath and pushed it out between his teeth. “He’s the youngest, right, so he fights a lot. We fight a lot, I guess, you know. Boys. My mama always says that. The others fight too, but they like to use their words instead and it’s really mean stuff, I mean, it hurts just the same as how we fight, but, I don’t know, it’s not the same either. I mean, Ruthie will still hit, but I don’t think that’s fair. You can’t hit a girl, even if it is Ruthie, right? She’s better at her words anyhow. Meaner.”

“Lot of sisters?” said Yes.

“Lot,” No answered and scowled at the window.

No had the older sister, the girl with the dark hair in braids. And there were others, too, not said by name. Yes didn’t know how many. And then there was little Jamie, the fighter, the youngest, the one with the cowboy toy that No held carefully, like he was afraid to break it even though it was plastic. There was a big family waiting for him, this little fragile kid.

“Ssssshit,” Yes hissed, kneading her forehead into lumpy wrinkles and tight planes, back and forth, back and forth. Family. He had a family. He had to have a goddamn family, didn’t he, just to much everything up.

Yes slammed her foot on the brakes. She even threw her arm out to protect No as the Cadillac’s old breaks squealed in angry protest. They locked up and the car fishtailed a little on the dirt road, but Yes kept that nose pointed towards the horizon until they ground to a halt. The two of them lurched and fell back into their seats. Then there was silence, dragging on for a minute and then a minute more, threatening to eat up the rest of time at the rate they were going.

“What was—”

“Look,” said Yes, cutting him off, slicing the air with the side of her hand. “You’re a smart kid. You’ve got guts and you’ve got brains and you’ve got a hell of a life for you. It’s coming up fast, I just know it. I can feel it, can’t you?”

No put his claw over his heart again, paying attention to the vibrations. He was wide-eyed, almost on the verge of tears. Or, not tears, no, just shock. Maybe not even shock. Maybe just acceptance.

“I don’t have much time left,” said Yes, specifically not touching the pocket with the letter. “Not here, anyhow. In Jonas. I’ve gotta move on and keep trekking if I want a life for me too.”

“You’re leaving,” said No quietly, not desperate, but very understanding for a kid his age.

“I don’t want to,” said Yes and she took his shoulder and gave it a firm, loving squeeze. “You know I don’t.”

“Mm.”

“I don’t! Hell, I thought I was going to put roots down, almost ready to dig my toes in,” said Yes.

“Do you mean that?”

“Have I ever lied?” Yes asked, assuming it was rhetorical. No shocked her when he answered, “Yes.” Not her name. Not the name they joked about. It was an answer. She blacked, let go of his shoulder and asked, “When?”

“Today. When you said you were alright, even though you weren’t.” No looked up with his big wet eyes. “You’re afraid.”

“Oh.”

“So this is the last time I see you then.”

“I suppose,” said Yes, even as it broke her heart.

They stared out at the empty landscape. It was all yellow and brown fields scraped across the earth and beaten by wind and rain and human hands. It seemed impossible to think there was anyone out there. They could’ve just been plucked out of existence and thrown away into a void dressed up to look like Nebraska. Wasn’t that a thought? A void. Well, Nobody couldn’t go there, could he? Not to a purgatory like that. But, if that were true, if that was the way to go, Yes didn’t like it. Felt too much like giving up.

“I’m gonna give you something,” Yes said to the windshield. “It’s very important, not just for you, but for all of us.”

“All of us?”

She reached into her vest and tugged at the small book. It had once been a journal. The cover was worn and the pages were old, spotted with stains with fox-eared edges. It was thick, too, and there were little post-its tagged throughout with questions and amendments. The four previous owners never dared write in the actual pages. Yes brushed her thumb up and down the fabric of the spine.

Singing back to her through her memories, Yes could hear Dominic Velasquez say, “It’s gotta go. You carried it here and now you’re carrying it to him.”

“Who?” she had asked, her neck sore on the patch of rock in the desert.

“No,” the Two readers answered in unison and laughed hard just as the fire popped and spit little firefly embers up into the sky.

“No,” said Yes and laughed too, softer, sadder. She handed the Book to him without saying more. He took it, holding it with due respect.

Yes turned the car around and pointed it back towards Jonas. The sun wasn’t high. The radio didn’t work and the cassette in the player was jammed in good. Yes could have turned it on but decided the orchestra of wind and gravel and tires and engine played just about the best damn symphony she’d ever heard.

“W-wait,” said No, coming out of his reverie. “You’re not going to teach my anything today?”

“Nope,” said Yes. She put them into fourth gear and smiled at the sky. “I’m teaching you goodbye, I suppose.”

“I know goodbye,” said No. His fingers were white on the cover of the Book.

“I know you do, No,” said Yes.

The wind felt good in her hair. She was going to miss it like a sawn off limb.

There was another beat between them as they digested the moment, until the kid couldn’t hold it in. He doubled over, miserable in the bucket seat and Yes almost didn’t hear him.

“What was that?”

“It’s John,” he said louder.

“Oh, that’s alright.”

“Where will you go?”

He looked small. He looked younger, a little shrimp with his crutch and his big eyes and his limp hair. He was afraid when he shouldn’t be, since he now had the Book. Or, maybe he definitely should, but he shouldn’t know. Yes felt a great big stab in her heart, that empty feeling of losing the Book and the relief that came with it and the shame of that relief too. Her head was dizzy.

“I’m gonna go where Nobody won’t find me,” she said with a sad twist in her smile.

Yes topped the car outside the burger joint. She opened his door and he sat there without picking up his crutch. The Book was open to the front page with the old scribble in rusty ink: Property of Margot Telling.

“Is this you?”

Without asking, the two embraced and held on a long time. He was brimming with emotions, with questions, and Yes could only hold on a moment. It burned. Her scorched fingertips gripped him tight like they’d hold on forever, but then she let go. He sniffed and wiped his nose with his forearm. She batted her eyes quick, thankful for the round prem-o sunglasses.

“You’re gonna be good.” Yes’s voice was rough. She coughed to clear it so she could try again. “You’re gonna be good. You’re a natural.”

“Thank you.”

No got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk to watch her drive off. He didn’t wave and neither did she and that was fine. Yes stared at the filth stacked up in the back seat. There were just a few belongings that made up life breeding in the old Cadillac. It wasn’t good, but it was good enough. It had to be. Yes punched the music on and sped away, her eyes blurry until they weren’t and her cheeks wet until they weren’t.

Okay, you know where people actually plan to go? California. That’s the ticket. West coast. The witch in question hadn’t been to the Golden State in years and that highway was playing a siren’s song. She raced across it, her Cadillac the damn ship ready to crash on the rocks. When she was good and gone, she unrolled the window and let the crumpled note sail off in the wind, whipped in the wake of her car. Queen cheered her on through the speakers like the damn champion she was. And California called her too. That was the place to be until it wasn’t.

Previous - Chapter 7: Dinner At My Place

Next - Chapter 9: Cooking Lessons

[miniaturelovercollectionstuff]

Merril Myron Burgess

My Tribute to Dad (Merril Myron Burgess)

Written by his oldest daughter, Marilee Burgess Cook

Written maybe in 2009 and possibly earlier than that

I would like to start off by writing a poem for you, Dad, in commemoration of all of the great poems that you have written, especially for missionary farewells and homecomings over the years. Here it is

I am glad You are my dad.

You can keep that poem in your scrapbook and read it often in the upcoming years.

Now, I would like to mention “Twenty-five Reasons Why I Love Dad.

1. Dad likes to embarrass me. I remember going on my very first date and Dad asking the boy if he was a democrat or a republican and scaring him to death. I remember Dad tossing rolls across the table when Charles came to dinner at our house for the first time.

2. Dad is very competitive. I remember Dad drawing “the line” across the table during a game and saying “This is it. I’m going to win from now on.”

3. Dad is a basketball nut. I remember Dad teaching me how to be a stake basketball scorekeeper when I was only a Beehive and watching countless basketball games that he refereed or played in.

4. Dad took us camping. I remember Dad fishing with me at China Meadows. I remember Dad taking us to the sand dunes for the second day in a row instead of exploring because all of us kids begged him to. I remember Dad falling out of a tree when we were camping and playing hide-and-seek. I remember playing Becka with him.

5. Dad enjoys danger. I remember riding on the back of Dad’s motorcycle with him. I also remember that Dad always took steep, very scary dirt roads in the mountains or made his own road just for fun. Then he somehow always needed to turn around at a very narrow part next to a steep cliff.

6. Dad is brave. I remember Dad taking me to the Sizzler and talking to me about the facts of life before I got married.

7. Dad is compassionate. I remember Dad coming and getting me in Colorado and taking me home when I became so sick with my stomach problems. He entertained me and watched movies with me and gave me a great blessing in the car.

8. Dad is wise. I remember going to Dad when I had important decisions to make and always respecting his opinion and advice.

9. Dad is spiritual. I remember standing in the prayer circle with Dad when I got my endowments. I remember Dad baptizing me, confirming me, speaking at my mission farewell, being the witness at my wedding, and giving me countless priesthood blessings over the years. Dad has had many important callings and is a great bishop. He really cares about his ward members. He has had many great spiritual experiences throughout his life and most recently saved my life during a camping trip last summer.

10. Dad is scary. I remember Dad being in the bishopric when I was a teenager. Once he scared me half to death when he and Bishop Steve Cook followed me home at 2 a.m. I was coming home from working at McDonalds and they were coming back from some ward problem. I parked in front of the house and he parked behind me. I thought that some weirdo was stalking me and started honking the horn. Dad got out of the truck and came up to my window and I jumped a foot. He also always seemed to scare our cousins. He purposely thought of mean things to do to our dates to scare them and enjoyed it greatly.

11. Dad is fun. I remember Dad taking us to drive-in movies when I was very little. I remember Dad hitching up the trailer and meeting Charles and I at a rest stop for a surprise dinner for a girl’s choice dance. I remember working with Dad at the Wheel-In- Market and how he would by me a sandwich, chips, drink and a treat and we would go home very late at night and watch TV in his bedroom and eat. (Of course, I also remember getting locked in the ice machine while working there with him.) I remember working for Dad at Burgess Plumbing on occasion. I always liked it when we had to stop off at Plumber’s Supply and we got free donuts.. I remember playing many card games with Dad. We used to play Crazy Eights when we were camping and Mom was making breakfast. We also went through a Flinch phase and played game after game. He doesn’t ever let any of us win on purpose. We knew that if we happened to win a game then we were “GOOD”.. I remember Dad taking us on many, many camping trips and to Disneyland and to a hotel in Idaho. Dad used to say “Goodnight, sleeptight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Also, “I’ll tell you a story of George McGory and now my story’s begun. I’ll tell you another about his brother and now my story’s done.” He also told stories of Giant Scroogum and Billy. Dad is a good sport and has dressed up various times. I especially remember when he dressed up as a New Year’s baby on New Year’s Eve and worked at the Wheel-In Market. Dad loves to watch TV and he watched many shows with us when we were kids. For some reason I especially remember watching Perry Mason with him. I remember the many times that Dad pulled out the slides and we watched slides, ate popcorn, and laughed.

12. Dad is smart. I remember that Dad could always tell what each of his Christmas presents were just by feeling the wrapping paper. One time I cracked some nuts and wrapped up the nuts and the nut shells separately and he didn’t know what his presents were. I thought that I was very clever. I remember that hiding Dad’s Easter basket was always a challenge because he was so good at finding it. Once, Mark and I took some peaches Mom had canned off of the food storage shelf and hid his basket behind the bottles. He couldn’t find it. Dad seemed to be able to read the newspaper and watch TV at the same time and be able to always figure out the murder mysteries on TV before I could.

13. Dad is accident-prone. I remember Dad injuring himself in many ways: motorcycle accidents, electrocution, falling off of the roof, playing basketball, etc. I was the most scared when he got hit by our vehicle and a big truck which had hit our vehicle. When Dad dies, it will be the right time because Heavenly Father has worked so hard to keep him alive.

14. Dad is strong. I remember Dad coming to Matthew’s funeral and being a strength to me.

15. Dad is hard-working. I remember Dad working late many times so that we could have enough to eat, and clothes to wear and a house to live in.

16. Dad loves surprises.. I remember Dad always shopping for Mom on Christmas Eve and letting me wrap some of her presents. But I never knew about her “big” present. He was very creative and loved to surprise Mom. He always told us that if your present wasn’t a surprise then he’ll take it back.

17. Dad thinks like a lawyer. I remember Dad teaching me to question some of the things I was taught in seminary. He made me look up things and verify who taught them and when. I still do that today. I remember that if there was a big fight among us children he would get out the tape recorder and question us and tape our answers. Then he would play them back to us and make a judgment.

18. Dad is a fun grandpa. Dad pretends that my kids are his pillow when he visits. They always look forward to that. They also look forward to playing video games with Dad.

19. Dad used us kids for his own pleasure. I remember Dad having contests to see who could scratch his back the best.

20 Dad can’t cook. I remember that Dad could basically cook two things when I was growing up - hot dogs and fried eggs.

21. Dad is spontaneous. One of the things that I love about Dad is that he is spontaneous. Sometimes he would come home from work and announce that we were going on a trip or doing something fun that we didn’t expect.

22. Dad likes to sing only when we are driving. I used to love it when he sang “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” and “It Ain’t Gonna Rain No More.” And “Yes, We Have No Bananas, We Have No Bananas Today.”

23. Dad was generally the discipliner. I remember Dad pulling into the driveway and always thinking, “Am I doing anything that I could get in trouble for?” He used to spank us with his belt if we wet the bed or did something else wrong. . He didn’t hit us very hard but I made sure I cried loudly so that I wouldn’t get hit harder.

24. Dad is a perfect bus driver. He loves to talk to people, he loves to drive, and he hasn’t slept well for years anyway so he’s used to not getting a lot of sleep.

25. Dad is the greatest dad that anyone could ever have. I am very lucky to have his love and influence in my life. I love him with all my heart.

Love, Marilee