#anyway week one of being a staff at summer camp this is so tiring | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clumsyclifford · 3 years ago

Note

lashton prompt: luke falling asleep on skype and ashton taking the opportunity to draw him, bonus if someone else finds the sketches before ashton shows them to luke

meghna this prompt is from almost a full calendar year ago. i am proud to report that after all this time i did in fact manage to set it in spideyverse because that’s how determined i am. more info in ao3 notes but it takes place in the summer before their senior year of high school, so after the events of everything else in spideyverse so far

read here on ao3

Ashton will have to thank Maya later for the tip about the Fine Arts Room. He jimmies the door handle and, as promised, the door swings opens to reveal a darkened room full of half-finished projects. They must really take the decency of humanity on faith here. Anyone could come in at any time and sabotage any of this work.

Ashton has less nefarious plans.

He sits at his usual spot but doesn’t turn any lights on; the big windows shine just enough moonlight into the room that Ashton can see the silhouettes of the furniture, and his laptop will be on in a moment anyway. Careful of the scattered pages over his workspace, he opens his computer and loads up Skype.

Just in time for an incoming call.

Ashton fumbles with his headphones and plugs them in with one hand while he accepts the call with the other. The screen fills with Luke’s brightly-lit, highly pixelated face. Chin in his hands, elbows propped on his desk, hair a ruffled mess (from the mask, Ashton knows) — the sight of him fills Ashton with warmth.

“Hey,” Luke says, smiling his usual cheeky smile. They’ve been texting sporadically, but seeing Luke’s face — hearing his voice — gives Ashton a fluttery feeling behind his sternum. Calum would call that anatomically impossible, but he’d do it with a smirk. “I can barely see you.”

“I’m sitting in the dark,” Ashton explains. His voice is a hushed whisper even though he knows it’s absurd to be paranoid. They’re supposed to be confined to their bunks by now, and the staff and counselors will all be asleep. The only reason he and Luke are calling now, past midnight, is because now is the only time they’re both available. “I’m in the Fine Arts Room.”

“Ooh, can I see?”

“I don’t want to turn on the lights,” Ashton says. “There are windows and stuff.”

“Are you not supposed to be there?” Luke raises an eyebrow and grins. “Ooh, is Ashton Irwin sneaking around?”

“Well, if we weren’t calling at the middle of the night, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Don’t they lock the buildings?” Luke suddenly looks concerned.

Ashton shrugs. “Maya told me that if I jiggle the handle, the door will open. She was right.”

“Go Maya,” Luke says. “I like Maya. Who’s Maya?”

“My new friend,” says Ashton. “She mostly paints. We’ve got a challenge going on about whether she’s better at drawing or I’m better at painting, since neither of us really use those mediums. Hannah — one of the other campers — is going to find something for us to both paint slash draw and then there’ll be an unofficial panel of judges. It’s pretty stupid.”

“You’re smiling a lot,” Luke says, and Ashton realizes he is. “Doesn’t sound stupid to me. You think you’re gonna win?”

“No,” Ashton says honestly. “I’m pretty awful at painting.”

“I’m sure you’re better than you think. How hard can it be?”

“That’s very rich coming from you, Mr. I-Can’t-Draw-A-House.”

“Hey, fuck off! I can draw a house, thank you very much.” Luke looks down at his desk and his focus shifts, and Ashton watches in bemused patience. As he waits, he draws a blank piece of paper towards him and grabs the nearest pencil lying around. His hands move almost unconsciously, drawing lines and curves and sketching the outline of something Ashton hasn’t quite decided on yet. Luke finally lifts his head up. “Here, see?” He holds up a piece of paper to the camera, where he’s drawn a box with an isosceles triangle on top for the roof, complete with a little chimney sticking out. “House,” Luke proudly declares. “Boom. Get fucked, Irwin.”

“I stand corrected,” Ashton chuckles. He hums. “They’ll probably just find us equally talented because painting is different from drawing and blah blah blah artsy hipster bullshit.”

“Stop dismissing the artsy hipster bullshit,” Luke says stubbornly. “I’ll have you know my boyfriend deals exclusively in artsy hipster bullshit.”

“You think my drawings are artsy hipster bullshit?”

“No, babe, I think you are artsy hipster bullshit.” Luke grins widely and then gets cut off by a yawn. Ashton bites back a very cheesy comment about how Luke should web himself up for being criminally cute.

“You know what, I’m gonna let you have that one,” he says instead. “Since I am at an artsy hipster bullshit summer camp.”

“I miss you.” Luke pouts. It’s a funny look on him. Ashton tries to imagine Spiderman pouting and completely fails. Sometimes it’s hard for him to reconcile Luke and Spiderman being the same person. That this adorable six-foot-and-change beanstalk who yawns on Skype is the same person who can do a double-backflip and land on his feet on the rooftop of any building. Ashton’s boyfriend stops crimes. What the fuck.

“I miss you too,” he says. “You seem tired.”

“I’m not tired.” Instant karma is a bitch. Luke immediately yawns again, this time much wider. “Okay, I’m a little tired,” he admits, smacking his lips like a child. “Summer break is deceptively boring. I…I run out of things to do all day, so I just kinda…keep patrolling. I might be wearing myself out.”

“Jesus, Luke, take it easy on yourself. Queens goes the entire school day without Spiderman’s protection during the school year. You can handle a break.”

“Yeah, but I might as well patrol,” Luke counters. “I have the time, and it’s not like I’m doing anything else.”

“I thought you and Michael were working on new specs for the suit.”

“It’s mostly Michael. Also, I think he’s kind of annoyed about the whole 24/7 patrol. He can’t work on the suit if I’m wearing it.”

“That is true.”

“But he’s been spending a lot of his time with Calum, anyway,” Luke says coolly. “So I figure he’s probably got other priorities.”

“Well, if you keep blowing him off to obsessively patrol the city, I can’t possibly imagine why he’s making other plans.”

Luke stares through the camera. His shoulders slump. “Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Ashton chirps.

Luke sighs deeply. “You’re not here, Ash.”

Ashton purses his lips and frowns. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I’m just saying. I miss you. I wish you were here.”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. He misses Luke too, more than is probably healthy. That’s what he gets, he supposes, for only having a handful of close relationships; Luke and Calum are his whole life, and not being able to hug either one of them for even a week has been pretty challenging. “But look, it’s only another week, and then I am all yours, I swear.”

“Don’t enable me,” Luke says, affronted. “You’re supposed to say things like… ‘You don’t own me’ and ‘I’m my own person’ and stuff like that.”

Ashton blinks, confused. “Uh…well, yeah, but we both already know that. I’m just saying I miss you too. But if it’s any consolation, Maya has ruthlessly mocked me for all the drawings I do of you. Like mercilessly. It’s actually kind of embarrassing.”

“That is super embarrassing,” Luke says, with a small, bashful smile. “You’re so fucking lame, Ashton.”

“Wow,” Ashton says. “You even sound like her.”

Luke giggles, which turns seamlessly into a yawn. “Hey, I came first. Maya sounds like me.”

“Luke, babe, just go to sleep,” Ashton says. “We can talk another night. Maybe one where you’re more well-rested.”

“I’m super rested,” Luke says in a monotone. “King of restedness, me.”

“Wow, I’m suddenly convinced.” Luke makes a half-hearted face at him and Ashton makes one back. The sketch under Ashton’s pencil has revealed itself to be Luke, yet again. Shocker. It really is embarrassing that Ashton defaults to drawing his boyfriend. If they ever break up, Ashton will be fucked.

“Are you drawing?” Trust Luke to notice. Although the fact that it’s taken him this long to notice means he must be slower on the uptake than usual.

“Yeah,” Ashton says, because when is he not.

“Drawing what?”

“Guess,” Ashton says dryly.

Luke gives a sleepy smile. “At least you’re predictable.”

“Luke, I’m begging you to get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow or this weekend or something, okay?”

Luke yawns yet again. “Okay,” he agrees, right hand propping up his head. His eyes flutter shut and then open again. “Okay, fine.”

“And please let Michael look at your suit,” Ashton adds. “You know he’s only going to make it better.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Luke’s eyes fall shut again. It seems more out of tiredness than distress. “If I give it to him, then I can’t use it.”

Ashton’s pretty sure if Luke’s hero complex gets any bigger he’s going to have to start renting out rooms. “It’ll be two days, tops,” he says. “Take two days off.”

“I wanna wait ‘til you’re back,” Luke mumbles. “Spend ‘em with you.”

“You spend most of your time with me,” Ashton says gently. “Spend them with Michael. Hell, spend them with Cal.”

“But I want…” Luke yawns. He lists sideways a little. “I want you.”

Ashton chews his lip. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he says. “You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

Luke hums absently. “‘Kay, g’night,” he slurs, but makes no gesture to hang up the call. He probably expects Ashton to end it. If Luke is as asleep as he looks right now, Ashton kind of has to.

The graphite on the sketch paper is smudging a little. Ashton glances down at the half-assed likeness of his boyfriend and has an idea.

Quietly, he grabs another blank page, moves his laptop back a little, and starts to draw.

They’re up bright and early the next day, and after breakfast Ashton follows a decidedly more lively Maya into the Fine Arts Room, where she takes her place diagonally from him at their table. They’re both mid-project; Ashton stacks and sets aside his scratch papers and pulls forth the drawing he’s currently working on.

“So? You talked to Luke?”

Ashton blinks and looks up at Maya. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks for the tip, I meant to say.”

“Hey, don’t thank me, thank Cupid,” Maya says airily. “I’m on the side of love, baby.”

Ashton snorts and rolls his eyes. “Let Cupid know I say thanks.”

Maya hums. “Cupid says you’re welcome.”

They’re quiet while Maya gets herself set up — she has to put all her acrylics back every evening only to set them back out every morning, another reason Ashton prefers pencils over paints — and Ashton picks up his pencil and starts to draw.

“Is this yours?” Maya asks, peering at Ashton’s discarded stack of sketches.

“Yeah,” Ashton says without looking. “Just sketches and stuff.”

“Wait, this is so cute.” She’s leaning over the drawing on the top. Ashton glances up.

It’s Luke from last night, soundly asleep over Skype.

Ashton had ended the call after about ten minutes of silence, enough time to get the rough outlines of all the important shapes. The video quality wouldn’t have lent itself to a good sketch anyway if Ashton had been chasing authenticity, but fortunately he knows Luke’s face well enough — both from drawing it and gazing at it in real life — to pretend the call had had a crystal-clear picture. None of it is colored in, but it’s as obviously Luke as all of Ashton’s other drawings. Somehow, though, this one feels more personal.

“Did you draw this last night?”

“Uh,” Ashton says, reaching for the drawing. He shuffles it between several other papers so an innocuous collection of doodles is now at the top of the stack, and Maya clicks her tongue in disapproval.

“Hey, I was looking at that. It was cute.”

“Yeah, it’s— it’s just nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, it’s adorable,” Maya says. She fixes him with puppy-dog eyes. “Pleeeease can I see it? I won’t show anyone. I’m studying so I can kick your ass in our competition.”

Ashton sighs. “It’s just Luke. You’ve seen millions of drawings of him.”

“But those were obviously from memory,” Maya points out, taking his non-answer as an affirmative and sifting through the stack. Ashton doesn’t bother trying to stop her. It’s not like he has anything to hide — or at least not anything Maya could figure out by looking at the drawing.

And in her defense, Luke does look cute as fuck in the drawing, because he’d looked cute as fuck in real life.

“For all you know, this one is also from memory.”

“You drew the screen, Ash, it’s clearly from last night.”

“Well,” Ashton says diplomatically. Then he abandons diplomacy, because Maya has located the drawing and is grinning and aww-ing. “Well do you blame me? He fell asleep on our call. It was adorable.”

Maya giggles. “You guys are so fucking cute,” she says. “Y’know, most people would be insulted if their boyfriend fell asleep on a video call with them.”

“He’s been really busy lately,” Ashton says. “And it was the end of the call anyway.”

“One day, I will have someone to draw me when I fall asleep on our Skype calls,” Maya says wistfully. “I’m putting the vibes out into the universe so it’ll happen soon.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one drawing them,” Ashton points out.

Maya finally sets down the Luke drawing. She dips her brush in red paint, clearly intending to put it into her work, but at Ashton’s words instead brandishes it threateningly at him. “I won’t be drawing anyone, buddy.”

Ashton laughs. “But you’d date someone who drew instead of painted?”

“At this point?” Maya sighs theatrically. “I’d date just about anyone who did anything.”

Ashton laughs again. They work quietly for a few minutes. Ashton starts shading.

“Why do you only ever draw Luke?” Maya asks. “You said you’ve been together for less than a year. Who were you drawing before then?”

Ashton shrugs. “Uh, anyone, really,” he says. “People. There are a lot of pretty interesting people at my school, and besides, I’m from the city.”

Maya snorts derisively. “You’re from Queens.”

“Queens is in the city.”

Another derisive snort. “Queens is in the city the same way using ink stamps is painting.”

“That’s not even a little bit the same thing, at all.”

“You’re not a city boy.”

“I am literally a city boy!” Maya waves him off, but Ashton ignores her. She’s from Massachusetts. She has no leg to stand on. “My point is that there are lot of interesting people near where I live, too.”

“You didn’t ever, I don’t know, draw your friends? Calum, didn’t you say he’s your best friend from home?”

“Ah, yeah,” Ashton says. “Calum. Didn’t like when I drew him.”

“What, seriously? Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton says, and it’s true. “He just asked me to stop drawing him one day so I did.” He hesitates. “...Mostly. Sometimes I still do. But if you knew Calum you’d understand why. He’s extremely good-looking.”

“Of course he is,” Maya says. “Any chance he’s single and/or interested in women from several states away?”

“No to both questions,” Ashton says sympathetically. “But good try.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Maya says good-naturedly, and they lapse into silence again.

It’s broken by Maya, again. “Do you show Luke the drawings you do of him?”

That’s a complicated question. No, Ashton doesn’t actively show his drawings to Luke, but Luke usually sees them anyway. Some of them are more private; Ashton keeps the one of Luke in the Spiderman suit sans mask folded up in the bottom of his socks drawer where he’s pretty certain no one ever looks. There doesn’t seem to be a point to showing it to Luke now, so long after he’d actually done it. But for the most part he’s not hiding his art from Luke; Luke sees what he sees, notwithstanding Ashton’s intention.

“Sometimes,” Ashton says.

Maya nods at the drawing of Luke asleep on Skype. “You gonna show him that one?”

“Uh, probably not.”

“What, why? It’s so cute.”

“I don’t know, maybe because it makes me seem like a ridiculous lovesick borderline creepy idiot?”

“Guys love that,” Maya assures him. “Or so I’m told. C’mon, why hold out on him when he already knows you’re basically obsessed with drawing him?” She taps the drawing. “And when he looks this adorable?”

Ashton breathes a laugh. “You have a point.”

“I always do,” Maya says, and she flips her hair dramatically.

Maybe Michael would let Ashton draw him. That would be a nice change from always drawing Luke and never drawing Calum. Maybe Ashton could just do it and then ask Michael what he thinks. It would be nice to have new muses. Ashton has spent a lot of time on Luke; maybe it’s about time he branched out again.

“Hey,” Ashton says, struck with inspiration as he watches Maya make brushstrokes across her paper. “Can I draw you?”

“Hell yeah, go for it,” Maya says. “I’m not sitting still for you, though.”

“I’ll live,” Ashton says dryly. Maya grins and laughs. A fresh page before Ashton and a new pencil in his hand, he studies Maya’s profile carefully and then brings his pencil to the page.

“Did you break into the Fine Arts Room again?”

“I don’t think it’s breaking in if it’s technically unlocked,” Ashton points out.

Luke squints but evidently fails to argue with this logic. “How’s artsy hipster bullshit camp?”

“Really good,” Ashton says, cracking his knuckles. His parents have told him repeatedly that doing so will give him arthritis, but Ashton suspects that’s more of a scare tactic than a fact. At this point he doubts even rehab could get him to stop. It’s the only thing Ashton can think to do with his hands when he’s not drawing. “By the way, remember the other day when you fell asleep on our call?”

I fell asleep at the end of our call,” Luke corrects him. “We were done talking.”

“Okay, weirdo,” Ashton says, shaking his head. “Well, anyway, Maya convinced me that I should show you this because maybe you’d think it was cute, or something.” He holds up the drawing of Luke.

Luke leans closer to the camera. Anyone else might have trouble discerning what’s on the page given how dim it is around Ashton, but not Luke. Luke has super-senses. His visual acuity is, like, a thousand. (Rough estimate.)

So when Luke’s face splits into a grin, Ashton knows he’s seen exactly what’s there. “Oh my fucking God, you sap,” he says. “I thought you just hung up straightaway.”

“Nope,” Ashton says. “I’m just saving moments. One day I’ll have enough for a flip book.”

Luke’s expression goes all mushy and heart-eyed. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, fond and endeared. “I can’t believe you’re not bored of my dumb face yet.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen your dumb face?” Ashton laughs. “It’s impossible to be bored of it.”

“Ashton,” Luke says, his eyes crinkling so much that the blue all but disappears. “I love you.”

And everything makes sense.

“I love you too,” Ashton says, struck by the realization that he does. The drawings, the midnight Skype calls, the death-defying trips around the city with only his faith in Luke to keep them afloat, the fluttery feeling — all of the colors lock into place, and Ashton can see the rainbow clear as day in front of him. He’s never been in love; of course he couldn’t tell. But there’s nothing else it could be.

“Oh, good,” Luke says timidly. “I was a little worried you wouldn’t say it back.”

Ashton glances from the drawing in his hand to the look on Luke’s face on the screen, and he cracks a crooked smile. “Then you, superhero, have not been paying attention.”

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cursedcataclysm · 4 years ago

Text

I should be doing my APUSH work right now but if I have to read one more sentence about Columbus I will tear out my own eyeballs so-

Summer Camp AU

feat. Dream Team, BBH, Sleepy Bois, Tommy and Tubbo, Fundy and Eret

DREAM

One of the boy’s cabins counselors, helps out at the waterfront sometimes

Has this white snapback hat with a black smiley face embroidered on the front, refuses to take it off, somehow never gets dirty

Also this lime green sweatshirt, he wears it around his waist if it gets too hot though

Often paired with George as co-counselors, they’re absolutely chaotic together but surprisingly good at leading the campers, they’ve got the whole play-fighting dynamic going on and nobody is really sure if they’re dating or not, they wear each other’s clothes so often they just share a dresser at this point

Whenever there’s a spider or a bug in the cabin Dream is the designated one to kill it (or take it outside)

Actually really close friends with Techno but they have a whole fake rivalry going on at camp for the ✨ drama ✨ (not really, they just got in an argument once and it spread across the entire camp, now it’s basically just part of camp lore that they’re ‘enemies’)

They play it up a ton at camp events and team games, but they almost always sneak out to the docks at midnight after and talk for hours

Dream and Sapnap together almost always means trouble

They’ve been friends for as long as anyone can remember

The shenanigans they get up to usually ends with them both on kitchen duty

Loves climbing trees?? Can be found just chilling in trees sometimes

Known for being a really cool camp counselor though, intimidatingly tall and won’t hesitate to step in when breaking up a fight or disagreement, has a way with kids

GEORGE

Also a boy’s counselor

George has these awful white sunglasses he won from an arcade on a staff trip, nobody has ever seen him without them, he wears them on his face when he’s in a bad mood (only Dream can talk to him without being ignored when this happens)

George is known for being a stickler for the rules, but surprisingly he’s often the counselor who starts the annual prank war, he somehow managed to dye Dream’s hair bright green in his sleep once

A bit awkward with the campers, but he loosens up around Dream and Sapnap

Constantly steals Dream’s green sweatshirt

Makes Dream and Sapnap friendship bracelets once, is a flustered mess when he gives the bracelets to them, muttering excuses about them looking terrible because he’s colorblind, Dream and Sapnap wear them on their wrists at all times (even though the colors clash just a little bit)

SAPNAP

Also a boy’s counselor, hosts the game nights in the main lodge every week

Has a white bandana tied around his forehead, Dream yanks it down over his eyes sometimes and they end up chasing each other around the camp for hours (and then they end up on kitchen duty, obviously)

KING of the ropes course

Spends most of his time there, actually

Ends up in the infirmary more times than he probably should after trying to do obstacles blindfolded or without a harness

Can and will carry a grudge for months on end

References a meme or vine every other sentence

Unironically wears crocs

Starts water balloon fights with Dream every opportunity he gets

Yells ‘parkour’ every time he does something cool on the ropes course, even if it’s not actually parkour

Loves giving out hugs, very physically affectionate, will sling his arm around your shoulders or punch you gently on the arm

Wrestles with Dream

Which leads to kitchen duty

BBH

In charge of sports/archery/rifle range

One of the nicest counselors, always chides the other staff (and campers, sometimes,) for cursing, helps out in the infirmary whenever he can

Campers trust him with their secrets, he knows a little bit about almost everyone but he’d never let any of it slip, he’s well aware of how important it is to the campers to have someone they can absolutely trust

Helps sort out disagreements between campers, he’s probably the best one with kids

Scarily good with a gun, holds most of the top camp records

Constantly reminding people to wear sunscreen, carries around three different types in his bag

Also a bunch of individually wrapped muffins, he gives them to campers if they want a snack

Definitely the worst at telling ghost stories

Has a lot of survival skills, will teach campers how to tie ten different types of knots in his free time

Only one who consistently wears his staff t-shirt

WILBUR

Everyone’s favorite counselor, at least according to him

Often paired with Techno

Grey beanie for the aesthetic, but also because his hair is absolutely a mess and if he shoves a hat on it it immediately looks better

Carries his guitar with him most of the time

Went through the ropes course one time with his guitar on him because of a dare

Really good at telling scary stories, but usually plays campfire songs on his guitar instead (sometimes with a kazoo if he’s in the right mood)

Absolutely torches his marshmallows and insists it’s the only right way to eat them, once ate a flaming marshmallow whole (for fun, apparently)

Coffee addict

Pretty much spends the entirety of breakfast at the coffee table

When Wilbur was a CIT he gets this black bandana from Philza, he never wears it but keeps it tied around his bed frame every summer, until one staff campfire when Tommy is a CIT. They’re all sitting around a fire and singing and joking around and Tommy surprises Wilbur when he knows all of the lyrics to one of Wilbur’s songs, and Wilbur impulsively gives Tommy the bandana (Tommy makes a joke about how it’s ‘rather plain, innit?’, Wilbur rolls his eyes and punches him on the arm, they both know how much it means to Tommy though)

Kind of sarcastic, mean in a nice way

TECHNO

Technically a counselor but nobody knows where he is most of the time

Has pastel pink hair and will 100% help kids dye their hair too, but not before a long lecture about bleach damage and regret

Also a pink face mask (for fashion), only takes it off to eat or swim

The best at making friendship bracelets, it gives him something to do with his hands

Teaches the campers how to make friendship bracelets in the art cabin

Gives his closest friends a pink and black friendship bracelet (it’s not confirmed to be him, they just show up on your bed overnight, but everybody knows it’s Techno)

One legendary summer, Dream and Techno were paired as camp counselors for a cabin, the campers from that year all have matching pink and green bracelets, there’s still whispers about what went down then

A god at toasting his marshmallows to perfection, golden and crispy on all sides with just the right amount of melting

Gets the best care packages from home (so many cookies!!)

TOMMY

CIT with Tubbo

Only his second year at camp, but he hit it off really well with all the other staff and Philza so they offered him a position as CIT

(which he accepted, obviously)

Likes to claim it’s for all the free stuff and staff perks but secretly really wants to learn how to be a good counselor

Curses like a sailor though

BBH has to threaten to take away his access to the staff coffee table to get him to stop cursing as much around the campers

Chaotic gremlin, probably shouldn’t be put in charge of children

He’s actually very responsible when he needs to be though, likes to joke around a lot but looks out for the campers as much as possible

Self-proclaimed king of the gaga pit

Seriously, can hit the ball so hard he’s bruised some people a couple of times

Always covered in scratches and bruises and bandaids

A little too eager to throw a punch

Has a black bandana (from Wilbur) and wears it around his neck at all times, keeps it as clean as possible (even when he’s covered in dirt from various scuffles the bandana somehow stays clean)

Goes absolutely ham on a kazoo during sing alongs

Him and Tubbo sneak out one night and take a paddleboard out to the middle of the lake to look at the stars, the only reason they get caught is because Tommy falls off as they paddle back to shore, Philza yells at them for ten minutes straight but it’s worth it

Basically never wears his staff shirt

TUBBO

Also a CIT

Has been going to the camp for years

Brings his ukulele with him, sometimes he plays with Wilbur at campfires, loves sitting on the dock and playing random little tunes for the campers

Hangs out at the waterfront a lot

Volunteers for kitchen duty, surprisingly

He actually really likes cooking and hanging out with Fundy, whenever he and Bad are in the kitchen together they make muffins

Makes flower crowns!! Absolutely vibes while sitting in the fields, loves the bees, teaches campers how to weave flowers together

Lets Tommy drag him off into all of his shenanigans

Is definitely the type to laugh off insults

Very, very hard to anger but when he gets mad, he gets mad

He and Tommy have only had one disagreement ever at camp, it started with a screaming match for an hour at the waterfront, they ended up not talking for days. Wilbur’s never seen Tommy that quiet, and Eret watches Tubbo with concern when he just sits on the dock for hours, not moving. One night Tommy shows up at Wilbur’s cabin, covered in scrapes and blood in the pouring rain, he just starts crying and Wilbur carries him to the infirmary before finding Tubbo, the two finally talk for a couple of hours after BBH bandages up Tommy’s wounds, the next day they’re back to talking and laughing and causing chaos together like nothing ever happened

Tubbo still feels guilty about that

Loves hanging out with the campers, everyone is excited for when he’s an actual counselor

Wears his staff shirt most of the time, but it’s under his green flannel so you can’t really tell anyway

PHILZA

Camp director obviously

Basically a tired dad, wears a green and white bucket hat, has a fanny pack and will use it

Curses a lot but hides it from the campers

Constantly reminding everyone to wear their staff shirts even if nobody listens to him

Loves telling the campers embarrassing stories about Wilbur and Techno as often as he can

When giving Tommy a tour of the camp to prepare for being a CIT Tommy somehow manages to climb onto the roof of the dining hall, Philza has to hide his laughter while yelling at him to come down

Tommy just stands and yells “POGCHAMP” as loudly as he can, Wilbur records it on his phone and makes sure to send it to all the staff in the group chat

Refers to Wilbur and Techno as his ‘sons’

And eventually Tommy too

Also references vines and memes

ERET

Waterfront manager/lifeguard

Really chill vibes

Also makes pride friendship bracelets for the campers!! It’s kind of a tradition, if you come out to him you get a bracelet

You also can get a bracelet if you ask for one

Has a whistle, loves to sneak up on the other counselors and blow it as loud as he can

Brings a lawn flamingo to camp every year and stakes it outside of his cabin

Really close with Tubbo

Helps Bad in the infirmary sometimes

Also hangs out with Sapnap at the ropes course, loves climbing the rock wall and sitting on the top

One of the best counselors to go to for advice, along with BBH

BUDDY SYSTEM OR ELSE

You better have your buddy when he blows his whistle twice

Tubbo helps him organize the swim tests and give everyone the appropriate tag to hang on the buddy board

FUNDY

Fundy absolutely cannot be trusted as a counselor, so Philza sticks him in the kitchen as head of the kitchen crew

Fundy doesn’t actually mind, he doesn’t have to do much and he gets access to all of the snacks

Extremely chaotic when handing out snacks to the campers- sometimes he throws them, sometimes he just dumps them out into a pile on the ground, sometimes he hands them out individually, there’s no way to predict it

Needs at least 8 hours of sleep or several cups of coffee before he’s ready to interact with campers

Very sarcastic

Plays piano in the main hall sometimes

Bullies Tommy with Wilbur

A picture of him in a fox costume surfaced in the staff group chat and now everybody calls him a ‘furry’

He hates it

So much

Capture the flag games that go for days on end, Dream and George captaining a team against Wilbur and Techno, spies and sabotage and elaborate heists, Eret betraying his team during one of the games, water balloon skirmishes, color war but Intense Mode

Prank wars between the counselors and campers

Building epic pillow forts in the cabins and the counselors sneaking in snacks even though there’s not supposed to be food in the cabins

Just, so many possibilities

#mcyt #mcyt au #dream team #sleepy bois inc #au #summer camp au #absolutely add on ideas and hcs #I'd love to see em #this turned out so much longer than I expected sdfsdjfd #perfect way to procrastinate on apush tho

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cherryblossomstars · 4 years ago

Text

III. Midnight (W. Ushijima)

Taken from my AO3 series of one-shots & reposted here

Pairing: Ushijima x F!Reader

Word count: 2,051

Genre: fluff/slight crack bc seijoh

Summary: Aoba Johsai's volleyball team has never been able to defeat the Great Ushiwaka of Shiratorizawa. Their manager, however? She can bring him to his knees in mere seconds.

Or, Ushijima Wakatoshi is helplessly in love with Seijoh's Ace's twin sister, and the Aoba Johsai VBC is not appreciative of it.

Previous | Next

"Go fish." Oikawa says with a straight face.

Matsukawa huffs and picks up a white card from the middle of the table, "just when I had Uno."

"Suck it up." Hanamaki smirks, "Eevee uses quick draw. Draw a card, Iwaizumi."

"No, because you activated my trap card." Hajime flips over a card that was on the table.

"That doesn't count!" Oikawa yells.

"Yes it does." Matsukawa defends.

"No, it doesn't." Hanamaki cuts in, trying to avoid losing.

"What does the card czar say?" Oikawa turns to look at you.

You hold cards from Pokemon, Yu-Gi-Oh, Uno, Cards Against Humanity and a regular deck of playing cards. You're not sure what you're playing right now, but the upcoming third years seem to have played this before, seeing as they don't have a lick of confusion written on their faces. Next to the large deck in the middle of the table sits a cup of dice. "Er... Makki and Hajime roll a, um, D6 for initiative. Highest number goes first, so, um, their card will be the affective one."

The group around you nods. Makki rolls a 3, then Hajime follows up with a 6. Makki groans in defeat.

You nearly sigh in relief, you weren't sure if what you said was even close to what you were supposed to do.

The summer break of your second year in highschool, all the second years had decided to go together on a volleyball summer camp in Tokyo. Naturally, they convinced you to tag along as well. The camp was split between age groups, middle school and highschool were grouped together and being taught by adults, while elementary was being taught by adults as well as teenagers. The camp had no need of volleyball managers, so you had submitted an application to be part of the staff supervising and teaching the elementary kids.

Because of your decision to be part of staff, you were required to go to the camp at least a week early to get the basics of both teaching and safety for the camp. There, you found out that because the amount of people coming to this summer's volleyball camp was much more than they normally had, middle school and highschool would be separated this year and they needed extra hands for the middle school division. You had volunteered, meaning you would be supervising both middle school and elementary.

Later, you found out they were getting an extra influx of campers because they had decided to make the camp co-ed. You grumbled about it when you found out the camp was co-ed. You must not have seen the option when you signed up online, likely because Oikawa had been pestering you to bump a ball around with him while you applied. Stupid Oikawa.

It was only the third day of camp (and your tenth day of being there), but you were already so very tired and excited to leave. The camp itself would last three full weeks. Afterwards, you would be forced to stay behind an extra few hours to help clean the school that had allowed the camp to use their campus. Luckily, you managed to rope your fellow second years into staying behind with you to help clean up as well. Matsukawa owed you one for spraining your wrist the month before (even though it was an accident, you still successfully guilt tripped him), Matsukawa had asked Hanamaki to stay behind as well, Hajime had given you a shrug and simply stated "wherever you go, I go", and Oikawa had given into peer pressure.

You rarely got breaks during the day and practically only saw your classmates at night after the elementary and middle school's curfew. Highschool did not have an assigned curfew, which is why you were sat on the floor in front of a coffee table in the common room of some other school's dormitory with your classmates playing an abomination of a card game while three of your underclassmen (which surprisingly included Kyotani) sat on the couches around you.

It was already surprising to see Oikawa up late since he was so strict with himself when it came to his schedule (with the exception of studying other teams' past games before tournaments), but what was really shocking to you was seeing your boyfriend and his best friend come down the stairs at 12am.

It seems your classmates already knew he was here, judging by the lack of shock from everyone around you. The saltiness that immediately began to radiate from your friends and fill the atmosphere, however, was practically tangible.

"Wakatoshi! What are you doing here?" You jumped from your position on the floor to walk alongside him and Tendou, heading for the kitchen.

"Tendou wanted a snack." He shrugs.

"A little birdie told me that the kitchens stock midnight snacks after the middle and lower school's curfew!" Tendou practically bounced into the kitchen, opening up all of the cabinets and digging through the pantry to find a snack suitable to his taste.

Your boyfriend and you stood next to the kitchen island, waiting for him. "No, Toshi, I meant here. At camp. I didn't know you were coming."

"I tried to call you to tell you, but you never answered so I left a text."

"You did?" You tilted your head.

"He did!" Tendou chirped, his head poking around in the fridge, "he was even complaining about how you weren't answering. He got all worried cause his precious little girlfriend wasn't answering her phone~"

"When?" You asked.

He is quiet in thought for a moment. "Last week."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I must have forgotten to tell you I was coming here. The club kinda convinced me to come with them last minute, right before the application deadline." You explained.

"It's pretty cool you're here with us, though." Tendou began to empty out the freezer, looking for something. "Oh! You know what, Iwa-chan?"

You hum, "what?"

"I don't think you've met little Kenjiro yet, right?" Tendou asks, tossing a bag of frozen vegetables onto the countertop.

"Kenjiro...?" You think for a moment.

Ushijima slips an arm around your waist. "His last name is Shirabu."

"Hmm... Nope. Never met him." You confirm.

"He's our brand new up and coming setter. He'll be a second year when the school year starts, but he's already pretty good, right Wakatoshi?"

The man next to you nods, "he's very competent. He's here at the camp, too."

Tendou grumbles, "there's no ice cream sandwiches." He turns to you, "Iwa-chan! How come the guys upstairs had ice cream sandwiches? I can't find them anywhere!"

You let out a light laugh, "that's what you were looking for, Satori?" You remove yourself from your boyfriend's side and begin to head towards a freezer with a lock on it.

Tendou nods eagerly, "yep. Why's that got a lock on it?"

You fish out your lanyard from your pajama's pocket and attempt to find the right key out of all the keys you were given. "Because there are certain snacks only meant for the staff. The camp wants you guys eating as healthy as possible while you're here, even when it comes to snacks. It's why there's pretty much only protein bars in the pantry and fruits in the fridge."

"You have a key?" Ushijima asks from behind you.

You finally find the right key and pop open the fridge, "chocolate?" You ask. When you hear Tendou confirm it, you toss an ice cream sandwich his way. "Want a popsicle, Toshi?" You close and lock the freezer when he shakes his head no. "Yeah, I've got a key. I'm part of the staff. I gave my Seijoh boys some ice cream and popsicles earlier too. Oh, but make sure no one knows I gave you guys these."

"Oh, you're part of staff, huh." Tendou nods in understanding.

"That must be why I haven't seen you around the campus." Ushijima adds.

"Yup. I'm part of the middle school and elementary staff, so I don't see highschool a lot except for after curfew. And since I'm so busy with them, I pretty much never check my phone. Sorry about that, honey." You take your spot next to Ushijima's side once again and get onto your tippy toes press a kiss to his cheek.

Tendou almost visibly cringes, "I'm gonna go upstairs before I get any more uncomfortable. See you in our room, Wakatoshi-kun!" And with that, he leaves the kitchen happily munching on his ice cream, leaving you and your boyfriend alone.

Almost immediately, Ushijima's arms snake around your waist and he rests his forehead against yours. "You worried me."

"I'm sorry." You press another kiss onto his cheek and wrap your arms loosely around his neck.

He hums, "what are you doing after camp ends? My family wants to see you again."

"Sorry, my love. After camp I'm going to Sapporo with Oikawa."

He freezes, "just Oikawa?"

"Sorry, I shouldn't have phrased it like that." You bite back the urge to laugh at his reaction, "I'm going to Sapporo with my family and Oikawa's family. We go every Summer, it's tradition. My uncle and my aunt live up in Sapporo, so we usually stay until the last week of vacation. Nowadays, though, the adults and Takeru usually leave early for work, so me, Hajime, and Oikawa get left alone, anyway."

"I see. That sounds fun."

"Yeah. It is. I look forward to it every year. I'm sorry I won't get to visit your family, though."

"They will understand. It's nothing to worry about."

"Can I postpone the visit until the last week of summer? We can all go to the festival together." You hop onto sit on the island's countertop and pull Ushijima to stand between your legs.

He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, his hair lightly scratching you. "Yes, that sounds like fun. My cousins missed you."

"Pfft. Which ones? You have so, so, so many." And he did. His extended family may as well have extended to the entire country of Japan. When you had gone to visit his family during the holidays, there were so many people at his house it was hard to move around. And even then, he had told you that that was only a few of his relatives.

"Hayato missed you very much." He huffed.

Despite trying not to laugh out loud, your body betrayed you when you began to shake from your attempts at stopping yourself. Hayato, who was four when you last saw him, had claimed that he would steal you away from Ushijima and be the one to marry you. Immediately following that, another one of Ushijima's younger cousins had said she had already claimed you to be her playmate for life, so you would be unable to marry either little Hayato or Ushijima. "Your family is certainly a fun one."

"I'm glad you get along with them, but I won't be able to have you to myself at any point during the Summer."

"My first day back. I'll be all yours. I promise."

"You promise?"

"All yours, my darling love." You lean your head against his.

This feeling, being wrapped in the arms of the love of your life in the middle of the night, was pure bliss. The only accompanying noises were the muffled shouts of your best friends from the other room, and the thrumming of the kitchen appliances around you. And still, despite the incredibly unromantic environment, you couldn't help but feel yourself fall for the man in your arms even more. Yes, perhaps you were too young to be in love. Sure, highschool relationships won't always last. But this feeling was one you wanted to savor, and you were not planning on letting him go any time soon.

This is not a fairytale life. Ushijima certainly had the grace and looks of a Prince Charming, but, unlike in the storybooks, whether or not the clock strikes twelve would not matter. You would not run away and you would not be leaving a shoe at the steps. Instead, you would continue to rest in the arms of the man you love. And sure, there would be no huge, elaborate castle or jewels tossed your way, but this was more than enough.

Fin.

#Ushijima x Reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #shiratorizawa x reader #aoba johsai x reader

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nothingeverlost · 4 years ago

Text

The Writing on the Wall (4/?)

We finally meet Benoit

TW for an uncomfortable and unwanted sexual situation.

“How much further is it?” She hadn’t been this far away from the center of the camp before. Marta had a general idea of where the lake was, but it would take some time to figure out the paths and the sun was setting. This far into the woods it wouldn’t take long to get dark.

“Just around the next bend. You’re going to like this.” Ransom was just a few steps ahead of her. He’d sat with her at lunch and had been strangely attentive and charming. Usually he just ignored her, and for the past week since he’d arrived had barely said a word to her. When she’d been little the seven year age difference between them seemed momentous; she’d still been in elementary school when he was a senior in high school. Once he left for college he was the family member least likely to attend a holiday event. Often she only saw him at Christmas; no one in the family dared miss that one day. In Ransom’s case it was probably more about the presents; her papa didn’t believe in saving gifts. If you didn’t show up you didn’t get your present, and his gifts were always generous. The year Ransom had graduated college it had been a new car..

“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow.” He had told her about the small lake he’d found, more private then the one lined by cottages and filled with canoes and people. Thinking that solitude wouldn’t be unwelcome she’d agreed to go with him, but she was getting more and more uncomfortable with the idea. He never talked to her, why was he being nice now?

“We’re here already.” True to his word they had reached a small lake. Pond was perhaps a better descriptor; it was perhaps twice a big as their swimming pool at home. Ransom was right about privacy, though. There was no one else around.

“How did you find it?” He wasn’t exactly an ‘explore the wilderness’ type. From what she knew of him he preferred private clubs and expensive meals to walking in the woods.

“I heard someone talking. You like this type of thing, don’t you? The whole rustic lifestyle.” He didn’t sneer but it felt like a subtle dig. She’d grown up in a home bigger than his, but her mom had lived in a one bedroom apartment when she met papa and had retained her Cuban accent all her life. Both she and Alice had a little of it too, something that made her papa happy.

“It’s nice. Sometimes it can be refreshing to unplug from all the technology and relax.” Alice wouldn’t agree, of course. Ransom probably wouldn’t either.

“It would be a good place to go swimming.”

“Maybe some other time. I don’t have my suit on.” Alice and Meg both seemed to live in theirs, but she only put hers on when she was planning on going into the water. She wasn’t interested in tanning and she didn’t like the looks she got when she wore a swimsuit without a shirt.

“Neither do I, but we could always go au natural. There’s no one else around.” Before Marta had a chance to register what he was suggesting his hand was on the first one of her buttons, slipping it out of the hole. She jerked back.

“What are you doing?” The single button didn’t expose much, but she clutched the fabric together.

“After three years of college I would hope you’re better at recognizing a move than that. You don’t actually spend all of your time studying, do you?” He uttered ‘studying’ almost as if it was an insult.

“We’re family.” It felt ridiculous to remind him that he was her nephew. She never thought of him that way, but even if she was interested, which she wasn’t, the connection made things too weird.

“Are we really? How much do we really know about each other?” He walked around her, circling behind so she couldn’t see him without turning her head. His breath was warm on the back of her neck but it made her shiver. “I’d like to get to know you better, Marta. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“Papa says you used to play Go with him. We could play sometime.” It was important to her papa that she tried to connect to the family. She didn’t want to alienate Ransom.

“Not the kind of fun I was thinking of.” If it had been someone else she might have liked the feel of his lips on her neck. She might have enjoyed the hand that groped her breast. But it was Ransom and he was holding on too tight. She tried to pull away but he only laughed as he turned her around. “If I have to spend my summer here there should be some perks.”

His mouth was demanding and unpleasantly minty tasting. When he pressed into her Marta took a step back, finding herself trapped against a tree, the bark sharp against her skin through her thin blouse.

“No.” She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed as hard as she could, managing to make him stumble back a step. “If you leave now I won’t tell anyone.”

“Who would believe you?” He straightened his monogrammed polo shirt and tilted his head to the side. He was right, there were plenty of people that would believe whatever he said. He was good at making people believe what he said. But not everyone.

“Papa would.” It would hurt him. It hurt her, to imagine the look in his eyes. She worried about how he would react. “Just leave and we can forget this happened.”

“You probably don’t even know enough to make it interesting.” He looked very pointedly at her breasts and then further down before shrugging and turning to leave. “You’re not going to get a better offer.”

Marta counted to ten after he left before her legs wouldn’t hold her up any longer, they were shaking so hard. She collapsed to the ground. Despite the fact that she wasn’t wearing a suit she thought about jumping in the water, washing away Ransom’s touch and the taste of him. If only she could make herself move.

“Do you require assistance? Guests don’t usually come so close to the staff cabins.” Marta wasn’t sure how long she stared at the water before the voice startled her. The warm southern accent was as unlike Ransom’s voice as it was possible to be, but she still found herself shifting away.

“I’m fine.” It was a lie, of course, The untruth of the statement wasn’t the only reason she found herself leaning over and losing her lunch, but at least she wasn’t shaking as much when she was done.

“I’m sure you are but it’s going to be dark soon and it’s easy to get lost around here. Perhaps I might escort you back?” To Marta’s surprise the man that she recognized from the dancing the other night didn’t seem disgusted by her vomiting. Rather he stepped towards her slowly and offered her a hand. He stopped shy of touching her, giving her time to make the choice to accept his offer.

His eyes were bluer than the water of her mom’s native Cuba. She hadn’t been able to see his eyes when he was dancing. His hand was warm, which didn’t surprise her. She almost missed his touch when he released her hand after she was steady on her feet. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” His smile faded into a frown. “Are you cold?”

Marta opened her mouth to protest again that she was fine, but she was suddenly too tired to pretend anything other than the truth. “A little.”

“If you might allow me?” He peeled off his sweatshirt, holding it out to her. She’d seen plenty of people in the green sweatshirts with the camp logo, but she was certain none of them smelled the same. He didn’t smell of cologne like she might have expected. There was a hint of something almost floral under the smell of soap and pine trees.

“Won’t you get cold?” Just holding it in her arms made her feel better. She was reminded of a blanket she’d carried around until she was five when it had been destroyed in a superhero cape incident.

“I’ll have to take it off as soon as I get to the lodge anyway, and I think it would do you more good than me right now. It’s just about a mile to the lodge from here, are you okay to walk that far? I’m afraid this path is too narrow for the golf cart, but if you don’t feel up to it the staff cabins are closer. You could lay down for a bit if you needed; this time of night the place is pretty quiet.”

“I can walk.” The last thing she needed was to have to explain to her papa why she was missing from dinner. Breakfast and lunch he usually wouldn’t notice, but they always had dinner together at the lodge. Marta pulled the sweatshirt on over her head. The arms were too long, almost covering her hands, but she didn’t mind. “Thank you again, Mr…”

“You can call me Benoit. It’s Benoit Blanc but no one calls me Mr. I’ll answer to just about anything, though, as long as it’s not Benny.”

“You don’t look like a Benny.” Listening to his voice helped her to focus on where she was now and nothing else. His voice and her “I’m not going to make you late, am I?”

“Not at all, ma’am.”

She shook her head. She was never comfortable with people calling her ma’am. It happened sometimes when she traveled with papa, but it always felt strange. “Please, it’s just Marta.”

“Everyone’s heading for dinner, Marta, and it will be more than an hour before anyone’s looking for me. It’s nice to have the time to take a nice quiet walk in the woods. Reminds me of when I was a boy, though the trees up here are a bit different from what I grew up with down in South Carolina.”

“A place like this is as rustic as papa gets, but when we were little mom would set up camp in the backyard for me and Alice. I loved making s’mores over the campfire. Papa would tell the best stories at bedtime, and mom would stay in the tent with us,” Papa’s stories had been scary even then, until mom had given him a look and they somehow always ended in a joke that would have them laughing. They had laughed a lot when her mom had been alive.

“Alice is your sister?”

“Yeah,” Her only sister, in all but biology. Certainly Linda would have never been interested in campouts in the backyard. Thinking about Linda reminded her of Ransom, distracting her enough that her foot caught in a root. She might have fallen if not for her companion. Marta wondered if it was the dancing that gave him such quick reflexes, or if he was always like that.

“There’s a nice log up ahead just a dozen feet or so. Makes a nice place to sit a spell.” They rounded the corner and true to his word there was a log on the side of the path, looking just perfectly placed enough to suggest that it hadn’t fallen there by accident. Any branches that might have been there originally were worn away, making it a comfortable place to set. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah.” For a moment the only sound was an owl hooting, and she was glad of the quiet.

Benoit seemed to understand. They sat next to each other for a few more minutes without saying a word, but the silence was companionable. It wasn’t until she made a move to stand that he stood as well. This time when he offered his hand she took it easily.

#cablanca #benoit x marta #marta x benoit #benoit blanc #marta cabrera #verse: the writing on the wall

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goldeneyedgirl · 5 years ago

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Fic-Mas Day 10: Runaway

Man, I cannot believe we’re up to #10 (I’m kind of ready for Christmas - and summer - to be over, honestly).

To the fic!

(Another Alice AU! Human Alice AU! When human Alice is sent to a psychiatric hospital, she gets a vision of Jasper and heads off to find him, and then convince him to find the Cullens.)

The snow was up to his knees as he moved steadily through the forest. He kept his gaze straight ahead, though his stance looked awkward to anyone who might have seen him. He wasn’t moving at full speed, but faster than a human should have been capable of in such snow.

Eventually, he saw what he was looking for, finally.

The trees finally parted to reveal a large white house with a cheery red roof. The garden spilt right into the forest. Other than being a nice house, there was essentially nothing special about it.

He huffed, ducking through the last of the trees. They had made it. Hopefully in time.

“Almost there, darlin’,” he murmured.

As he crossed into the open land, five figures emerged from the house, suspicion radiating off them.

He keeps moving forward to them, picking up his pace slightly.

“I need help,” he said brusquely as he came closer, deciding to ignore the risk of their suspicion. If they chose to attack, it would be disastrous, but he didn’t have the time or power to take the cautious route. “Please.”

“How can we help you?” the eldest male asked politely, but cautiously. The stranger was scarred, and his clothing was a mismatched collection of not-quite worn, worn, and completely worn out. He stood oddly, his stance positively awkward, one that none of the residents could figure out.

The man heaved a sigh, and turned slightly. It took the family a moment to realize precisely what they were seeing.

His arms were looped around oddly, and the sneaker-clad foot was almost hidden by his arm. The eldest woman understood the quickest, gasping as they took the seen in. A girl was huddled against his back, her face waxy and pale, lips tinged blue, and layers upon layers of clothing wrapped around her. Her eyes were closed, and even from a distance, her breathing was a disjointed struggle. Her tiny arms were wrapped loosely around his neck.

She was human.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “Please, please help us.”

The flashlight flickered over my face and I tried to relax my face. I only had a tiny window of opportunity and if the nurses found out that I was awake, they’d medicate me and it would be all over. No second chances.

After a few moments, the flashlight moved away from my face, and after a moment – the nurse checking on my roommate, who was thankfully drugged to the gills – and left, the door closing quietly.

And then I could hear the chime – shift change.

I slipped out of my bed, quickly folding the bedding so it looked like maybe I had burrito-ed myself in the blanket. I crept over to the wardrobe and grabbed my backpack and shoes.

I took a deep breath and slipped out of the room. Definitely no going back now.

The hallway was empty – everyone would be at handover, debriefing on who was having a good night, who was having a bad night and who was just being a pain in the ass. Only Jeffery, the security guard, and the admin monkey would be around. It was after midnight.

I crept down the hallway, towards the stairwell. There was only one way out without a security pass – the unbolted window in the storeroom on the first level. I scurried down the stairs, stopping only to pull a hoodie on over my pajamas and jam my feet into my sneakers.

The first floor was totally empty – it was where all the doctor’s offices were. The storeroom was the only one that had a proper key-lock instead of a pass-scanner, since it was just printer paper, paper towels and stuff like that.

But I didn’t have a key. This was where things would get complicated. I knew that the lock and handle was old, but the door was quite heavy. The only thing I had was a metal nail file I had stolen from a nurse to pry the handle off enough to push the door open.

Shouldering my bag, I pulled the file out of my pocket and jammed it between the wood and the metal and threw all my weight against it.

“Come on, come on,” I whispered, trying it again. There was a groan and the handle was clearly coming away. I threw every thing I had and there was a loud clunk as the handle dropped away, and the file snapped, slashing the palms of my hands. I kicked the door and threw myself against it, it finally swinging open, and I tumbled through, falling over a box of Styrofoam cups.

“Is someone down here?” Oh god, Jeffery. Where Jeffery was, the creepy orderly wouldn’t be far behind. I dragged myself to my feet. The window was right there, and I scrambled up the bookcase, unlatching the window and shoving it open, the screen banging loudly. And I scrambled through, tumbling out and into the dumpster below. Eww.

“Who’s there?” Jeffery was in the storeroom now, and I was rapidly running out of time. In so many ways.

I clumsily clambered out of the dumpster, dazed and bruised and began to run. The staff car park had no fencing, but storm water drains that everyone called ‘the canals’. They would be mostly dry tonight, just mud and sludge. I scrambled down and pressed myself against the concrete for a moment. The sides were almost six feet tall, with a couple of old pipes as my only hand and foot holds. I had seen it, I knew I could do it, but dreaming it was very, very different to living it. I had maybe a minute before the safety lights were turned on.

Only one chance. I had to go now.

I hurled myself up, scrapping my hands raw and trying not to cry. I was gasping for air by the time I made it to the other side. The flood lights came on with an echo, and I could hear people calling. Damnit. Too slow, Alice.

I picked myself up and started to run towards the hiking trails. They wouldn’t catch me, not now.

I was finally free.

The Hill Park was abandoned after dark, thankfully.

I had woken up late afternoon, feeling much better rested. I was dirty, and covered in spiders-web, but I was still free.

Clambering out, I pulled a granola bar and my water from my bag, inhaling my meagre meal. Whatever happened, I’d need to find more food, soon. I may have been small, but I needed more than a few stolen snacks.

And then I went and perched on a swing, to wait.

He didn’t arrive til after midnight.

He was so much different in real life. Not better or bigger, just more. He towered above me, with deep crimson eyes and a mop of blonde hair. Angry black circles underscored both his eyes. His clothes were stained and shredded.

Major Jasper Whitlock – either my saviour or my murderer. My fate was in his hands – and I had put it there, quite willingly.

“You’ve kept me waiting,” I said, standing up to face him, pulling my hood down. He stared at me.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said in a low voice. Right now, he was interested. Curious. And hungry. But I was still young – too young to be hunted, if he could possibly help it. He wasn’t going to stay.

“Do you want the long version?” I asked, reaching out and grabbing his sleeve. He jerked away from me, his eyes wide. “I have dreams of the future. And I needed to find you. This can go two ways – you can kill me, or you can let me come with you. If you turn me away, well, I’m dead anyway. Please.”

The two vampires looked startled. One was male with brown hair, not quite as tall as Jasper, and rather lean. The other was female and reminded me of a porcelain doll – strawberry blonde curls, round eyes, and a perfect cupid’s-bow mouth. They both wore old and impractical clothing and had bare feet.

And scarlet eyes.

“Who is this?” the woman asked, her eyes wide, darting between Jasper and I.

The male had the strangest look on his face, one I couldn’t decipher. One I didn’t want to decipher.

“This is Alice. Alice, this is Peter and Charlotte,” Jasper said simply.

“Hello,” I said shyly.

“Hello Alice,” Peter said, staring at me.

Jasper looked up at the sky. “We need to set up camp.”

“Of course,” Charlotte said faintly, shooting an alarmed look at the male.

Jasper kept his arm around me as we moved closer to the river, finding a moderate clearing.

We had camping down to a fine art. We didn’t carry to much with us – Jasper would gather wood and stone so I could build the fire; my bedding was just his parka as a mattress, and mine as a blanket; in the new few weeks, I’d have to find a sleeping bag, before it turned cold.

I used the river to wash, and fill my water bottles.

The vampire couple watched us curiously, and both visibly flinched when I got my campfire going.

By the time night fell, I was sitting in front of the fire, eating. It wasn’t much – an orange, a package of crackers, a can of tuna. Jasper already had plans to go into the next town to get more supplies in the next day or two. Jasper was sitting beside me, the couple sitting towards his right, their gazes darting to the fire every few seconds. I never really thought about how uncomfortable Jasper must be when I made a fire. He never said anything.

“So,” Peter said finally. “Where did you and Alice meet?”

“California,” Jasper said, watching as I began peeling my orange, throwing the peel into the fire. I was tired, I’d need to sleep soon.

“How old are you, Alice?” Charlotte asked me; she still wore an expression of curiosity on her face, like I was a puzzle should couldn’t figure out.

“Nearly fifteen,” I said, looking up at her. My hair was twisted up into a messy bun, and I was wearing an oversized sweater and sweatpants to sleep in; I looked homeless compared to her, and she look like she hadn’t bathed in the last year.

“And where are you headed?” Peter seemed uncomfortable as I crammed fruit into my mouth.

“North,” Jasper said with certainty. “Somewhere safe. Nevada was too dangerous.”

“As bad as New Orleans,” Peter agreed.

I reached out and grabbed my water bottle. “I’m going to get some sleep,” I said, looking down at Jasper, who smiled up at me.

“Sleep well, darlin’,” he murmured.

I walked over to my little bed, behind the fire, wrapping the coats around me, and falling asleep easily, to the sound of the fire crackling, and of the forest settling for the night.

“You turn a girl that young, and the Volturi will never stop watchin’ you!”

I was neither awake nor asleep, but aware of the agitated conversation behind me.

“I’m not gonna change her!”

“Then what the hell is goin’ on here? We don’t hear from you in a decade, and then we find you playin’ house with a little human girl in the middle of the forest!”

“Peter, calm yourself. Jasper, you understand that we’re confused. This isn’t what we expected to find.”

“She’s… she needed help, she was in danger. She’s… Alice has dreams of the future, and they told her to find me, to keep her safe from someone. And I… I don’t know what I was thinking, but now... she helps. Me. She makes everything… less difficult.” He sounded strained.

“Oh, Jasper,” Charlotte sighed. “What are you going to do? You can’t just walk the length and breadth of the country with her, she’s human. And you can’t change her until she’s older.”

“She… she had dreams about a coven, one who doesn’t hunt humans and would accept both of us amongst their ranks. That they would help us and keep us safe.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“I just want to find somewhere she can live that is safe, and that place isn’t a coven.”

But before I could hear the end of the conversation, sleep swallowed me again.

#TwilightFicMas2019 #twilight fic #alice cullen #jasper hale #jalice #alicexjasper #my writing #my fic: runaway #wip #twilight #peter and charlotte #fic: runaway

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junietuesday · 5 years ago

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During the summer before their freshman year, Michael and Jeremy go camping.

The two of them have been extremely hyped over the weeks leading up to it, because although this is a yearly tradition, this year, Michael’s and Jeremy’s parents decided that since they’re going into high school, they’re old enough to go with only Michael’s older sister as a chaperone. Said older sister has plans with friends nearby, so she agreed to leave them to their own devices as long as they stick to the campgrounds and didn’t blow anything up. Which means Michael and Jeremy had a whole week to themselves.

“Don’t murder anyone, I’ll be back in two days but I’m only a half hour’s drive away,” says Michael’s sister, as Michael and Jeremy climb out of her beat-up 2007 Toyota Corolla. “Do you need help with your bags?”

“Nope,” says Michael, popping the “p” as he circles around to the car’s trunk. “Wait, before you go, take a picture of us here, in case Mom makes sure you’re with us.”

Soon, Michael and Jeremy are starting down the winding path through the forest, which leads to the campgrounds. Michael’s practically bouncing along, looking over at Jeremy with a wide smile.

“This is gonna be so fun,” Michael says brightly, nudging Jeremy with his shoulder, and Jeremy stumbles with a snort. “Like, we can have as many snacks and s’mores as we want and go climbing those huge rocks our parents never let us touch and it’s gonna be so great.”

Jeremy grins, laughing a little, and Michael suddenly notices that his eyes are kinda pretty.

Michael turns and stares back down at the dirt path, smile falling off his face as he frowns, confused.

By the time Michael and Jeremy emerge from the forest path into the open campground, Michael has mostly managed to shove that strange blip from his mind as they enter their cabin, the exact same one their parents rent every year. There are two rooms, and usually each family takes one of them, but this time, since Michael and Jeremy are alone, they can share, instead of staying up late in the main area and passing out on the pull-out couch.

Jeremy dumps his backpack and the plastic bag of s’more ingredients on the floor next to the bed closest to the window, flopping onto the mattress and spreading his arms.

“I’m kinda tired from the drive,” he says, as Michael puts his own bag down more gently and moves to sit on the edge of Jeremy’s bed, “but what d’you wanna do tonight?”

Michael’s answer is immediate. “Campfire food!” he exclaims, dropping down next to Jeremy. “I want marshmallows!”

For a few minutes, they’re quiet, just relaxing next to each other. The bed isn’t exactly the most luxurious, but being here next to Jeremy just makes Michael feel…warm. And comfortable.

But soon Michael’s perpetual restlessness wins out, and he sits up and gets out of the bed, tugging Jeremy to his feet. “I know you’re tired but we were literally sitting there for hours so you’ll be fine, I don’t wanna just sit here, let’s go play Uno or something outside.”

“Fine, fine!” Jeremy says, stumbling along as Michael pulls him out the bedroom’s door. “You need to get the cards, y’know.”

“Oh.” Michael stops, and laughs, turning back around to grab the pack from his bag. But as he kneels down to dig through his backpack, his hand sort of feels tingly, and oh, it hits him.

He was holding Jeremy’s hand. Holding Jeremy’s hand makes him feel kinda buzzy.

Michael swallows, shoving that down to deal with later. He finds the pack of Uno cards, along with a standard pack of cards for good measure, and holds the two up, trying for a triumphant grin.

“Fuck you, fuck you fuck you!” Jeremy screeches, as Michael puts down a +4 card with a wide smirk.

“Uno!” Michael says as soon as the card drops into the pile, giggling at Jeremy’s groan of misery as he face-plants into the picnic table. “Suck on that!”

They’re in the common area of the camp, playing their games of Uno at a table right next to the lake they’ve managed to snag. It’s not terribly crowded, especially since it’s only the second week of summer and there aren’t a huge amount of cabins available here, so the only people around right now are this family eating ice cream at a table across the field, a person walking around staring at their phone who’s almost definitely playing Pokémon Go, and a man in a gray hoodie leaning against the railing of a deck into the water, which has one of those binocular things you need to stick a quarter in to use.

“You‘re an ass, I hate you,” Jeremy grumbles into the table, and Michael reaches over and ruffles his hair, earning a yelp. “Michael. Don’t touch my hair.”

“Oh, right, you only fantasize about having people whose names rhyme with Bristine Tanigula run their fingers through it,” says Michael, laughing, and Jeremy looks up and glares over his arms.

“What is this, ‘Attack Jeremy Relentlessly Hour’ or something?” Jeremy says. “She’ll never like me anyway.”

Michael frowns. “Don’t say that,” he says, more seriously. “You’re awesome. You just need to, uh, well. Actually talk to her.”

“Like that’ll ever happen,” Jeremy says, dropping his head to the table once again, and though it’s stupid, especially because he brought it up in the first place, Michael’s a little disconcerted at this turn of conversation. There’s only so many different things about his crushes Jeremy can agonize over, and it’s a little exhausting to hear them over and over again, especially in the middle of what was supposed to be their week. But Michael will bear it; he’s not Jeremy’s best friend for nothing, he supposes.

“Besides,” Jeremy continues, voice muffled into his arms, “there’s nothing ‘awesome’ about me. You just say so ‘cause you’re my best friend and you have to.”

“That’s not true,” Michael says. “You appreciate video games. Your laugh and eyes and hair and face are cute—um, I mean a bunch of girls probably think so. You’re funny. You’re smart.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy says, looking up, and Michael can see a genuine smile on his face from the compliments.

Butterflies go through Michael’s stomach.

About a trillion more games of Uno later, plus another few million rounds of other card games, the sun has set enough for it to be an appropriate time to make a campfire. It’s evening during early summer, so Michael and Jeremy have to change into long-sleeved shirts, but the weather is still the perfect kind of light and breezy as they pick their way through the woods, searching for sticks for firewood, the perfect roasting sticks, and, just for fun, some big sticks that are good for swords/staffs. The path is thin, unlike the road leading to the campground, and there are fallen trees and their jagged stumps all over that are hard to see in the dim light of the rising moon, but the walk is still relaxing.

The darkness cloaking the late hour and the comfortable chatter of nature and the giddiness from this being their first day allows Michael to say things closer to his heart.

“I’m really happy,” he says during a lull in the conversation, smiling softly to himself as he reaches down to grab more sticks and tuck them under his arm. “This is fun and you’re my favorite.”

“Aw, that’s kinda gay,” Jeremy jokes, but he continues sincerely, “You’re my favorite too.”

For some reason, the words make something in Michael’s chest feel weird.

Michael’s known he’s gay for about a year and a half, now, and that’s only counting when he was finally able to admit it to himself, but he and Jeremy have known about being gay for far longer, thanks to middle school. It’s an all too common occurrence for Michael’s mood to sink slightly when Jeremy calls things gay as a synonym for either “too affectionate” or “stupid”—but he knows what that feels like, and this isn’t that.

“You’re kinda gay,” Michael says, instead of any of that. Jeremy shoves him into the nearest tree, going red.

“Shut up, I bet you’re gay,” Jeremy retaliates, and for a moment, Michael contemplates telling him.

But it goes nowhere, as always. Anyway, this would be an awful time, because they’re stuck together in the middle of a camp two hours away from home, with nowhere for Jeremy to go if he decides that Michael is too gross to hang out with. And, a little selfishly, Michael just wants to enjoy this week alone with his best friend without souring the mood with a huge revelation like this, without potentially ruining everything at the cost of being true to himself.

“Yeah, okay,” Michael scoffs, swallowing the urge to come out and the fear welling up at just the thought of doing so. He continues walking, and Jeremy follows, walking backward and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Remind me which of us has the huge crush on Keanu Reeves?”

“You’re a jerk, it’s a respectful admiration,” Jeremy insists, and then swears when he trips over a tree’s stray root. Righting himself, he continues, tone miffed but, as far as Michael can tell, with honesty, “If you were gay I wouldn’t make fun of you like this.”

Michael laughs, heart softening with affection and exploding at the same time with a rush of hope. And then he pushes the warmth away, but at least this time, it’s a bit more gently than before.

Fifteen minutes later, Michael and Jeremy are back in front of their cabin, stacking sticks by the firepit and setting up the tinder.

Or, well, Jeremy’s doing that. Michael’s sitting in front of a slab of wood, twisting a stick back and forth in his palms with determination.

“Michael, you know that’s not gonna work,” Jeremy says, the disbeliever and coward. “I’m just gonna get the matches.”

“You’re just a disbeliever and a coward,” Michael says without looking up, rolling the stick even more firmly. “Go get your disbeliever coward matches, see if I care.”

Jeremy snorts, and Michael hears him retreat into the cabin. Michael’s hands still, as he stares down at the piece of wood his stick’s end is poked into.

Does he like Jeremy?

Well, if today was any indication, yes, probably. But how can he just suddenly have a crush on Jeremy after ten years of purely platonic friendship? This can’t have appeared today. But how did Michael not notice?

Is this even a crush? He’s never had a proper one before, he hasn’t known anyone well enough to—even though the books and movies have people falling in love at first sight, that can’t be real. How would you get a crush on someone you’ve barely even met? But Jeremy’s definitely someone Michael‘s met. For all Michael knows, this could be romance.

What if it is romance? Jeremy would never like him back, would never even consider dating him—mostly because Jeremy’s straight as an ruler, almost painfully so, but also because he’d probably be too freaked out by the fact his best friend who he’s been hugging and sleeping next to has been gay all along, and even has a crush on him. Even putting aside that line of thought that makes Michael want to hide, Michael doesn’t think he’s ready to date anyone yet, despite the fact that he’s already fourteen and his classmates have already long begun to go out with each other. So there’s no point to this stupid crush and it should hopefully go away soon.

Yeah. It should go away soon.

“Okay, here we go,” says Jeremy from behind him, startling Michael out of his thoughts, and Michael turns to see Jeremy kneeling in front of the firepit, striking a match against the side of the matchbox. He gets the match’s tip lit, but then his expression flashes to realization. “Michael, can you go get the—the rainbow fire stuff? It’s in the left pocket of my bag. And the s’more ingredients!”

Michael takes a deep breath, then mock-salutes. “Got it,” he says, pulling himself to his feet. He crosses the grass and pushes open the cabin door, closing it behind him and pressing his forehead to the wood, trying to breathe.

Four in, seven hold, eight out.

He does that four times, then he finally goes and grabs the packet of chemicals from Jeremy’s backpack pocket—it was actually in the right pocket, but Michael knew to check there first anyway—along with the bag with the packs of marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. He’s regained most of the skip in his step when he returns to Jeremy, who’s built up the campfire to a surprisingly great size.

Jeremy’s face, flickering in the light of the campfire’s flames and the glowing moon above, lights up when he sees Michael.

“Yes!” Jeremy says, jumping up, and he runs over to grab the folding chairs leaning up against the side of their cabin and set them up next to each other by the fire as Michael pulls over a little metal table to put the snacks on. The fire warms his body as he tears open the packs of food, Jeremy passing him his roasting stick, already sharpened and peeled and ready to go.

“You know the drill,” Michael says as he spears a marshmallow onto his stick, “give me your burnt ones immediately or I’ll steal them myself.”

“You’re such a weirdo, why do you like the burnt ones?” Jeremy says as always, but doesn’t protest. “They’re horrible and fried and gross.”

“Says you,” Michael says, sticking his marshmallow straight into the fire, pulling it back out to let it burn for a few seconds, then extinguishing it at the perfect time. Burning marshmallows is a subtle art that Jeremy will never understand. “You just want to be all fancy and stuck up about your marshmallows.”

“No, I’m a reasonable human being that doesn’t like things that are burnt to a crisp,” says Jeremy, gently rotating his own marshmallow at a safe distance from the flames. “You just have no functioning tastebuds.”

Michael glances over, and his heart does a little flip in his chest at the sight of Jeremy’s grin, as he stares intently to get his marshmallow “perfectly” browned.

…Just for a bit. Michael can indulge in this just for a bit.

~FIN

Word Count: 2425

Team: Michael

Prompts: all main prompts, the crescent moon, the forest path, the gray car

@bmc-gift-exchange

#june speaks #my writing #IM SORRY IF THE READMORE DOESNT WORK IM ON MOBILE AND HAVE TO GO TO BED LIKE ASAP #THATS WHY I HAVENT EVEN POSTED ON AO3 YET SORRY

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luving-hanni · 6 years ago

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That one time at camp...

Title: That one time at camp Paring: Doyoung x Reader Genre: fluffy smut. Jk smut Warnings: Sex and foreplay so all that jazz. Comments: Yes, this was originally with Taeyong, but now it is with Doyoung. Sorry not sorry. I think Johnny’s personality matches this story more, but I already changed the names three times.

It was the last week of camp. You loved being a camp counselor but it was emotionally draining and you were ready for session one to leave and be done with. Thankfully, your camp director gives the staff a week off to recover and prep for session 2.

Luckily, your male counselor partner was Doyoung. All of your staff was super jealous that you got the super caring, great with kids, and hot counselor. He was really good with kids and he literally looked like dad at camp trying to keep his kids in line.

Anyway, it was the last dinner for session one. By the ice cream machine, Doyoung stopped you. “Hey, what you are you doing tonight” This would be the first time you get to hand out without the campers so you were curious to see where this was going. Exhausted, you shrugged “probably go to sleep early and not wake up untill 2pm tomorrow.” He raised an eyebrow. he knew. “please move, I want ice cream.”

It was pretty obvious that you had a crush on his... so did everyone else at camp. He lifted his eyebrow “I wanna take you to the top of the mountain tonight,” you jokingly replied “that sounds like kidnapping.” You have never been to the top of the mountain at night. Mainly because after putting the kids to bed, you passed out. Remember, the kids are like 15+ but you’re a mom.

Doyoung took you hand “i’ll be outside at 11:45. bring a blanket... and some bug spray” You felt your cheeks turning all different shades of red. Was this a date? you thought to yourself. You finally got your ice cream and continued on your day.

[ 11 :45 pm ]

After putting the kids to “sleep” (they were so excited that it was the last day, but sad), you showered and put on some comfortable clothing. Sprayed that bug spray like crazy and put it in your bag. No more bug bites for you. Sure enough, Doyoung was outside of your window with some flowers! Where did he get a bouquet of flowers? The closest store was literally miles away. He winked at you. You quickly grabbed a blanket and headed downstairs. As your door closed, you thought you forgot your key. Luckily, you already packed it in your bag.

You rushed over quickly towards him and a little nervous.A lot nervous. He handed you the flowers and took your hand. Woah. You got in his car as he started to drive up the mountain. Trying to make small talk, you asked about his campers and everything. Checking out the campers is always crazy. They never know what to do. . . no one does. Everyone is sad too.

After driving in near silence for what seemed like an eternity, you arrived to the top of the mountain. The overlook was beautiful. The distant city lights had you in awe. You got out and started to set up the blanket “come on, I know a secret spot,” he shouted across the parking lot. You got up and ran to catch up with him. A few minutes of walking, he brought you to a little ledge that had an even more beautiful view. He put his backpack down and took out a few of those candle things that repel bugs. “Me too” as your took out your bug spray and sat next to him.

You could tell he was nervous too. All the camp stress was a lot, but small moments like this made you happy and reminded you why you come back year after year. Doyoung was nervous. You felt his nervous energy. You also felt the sexual tension. “hey” you whispered to him. He didn’t even reply, he just put his hand on you thigh. You inhaled sharply.

The next moment he was on top of you. You took a chance and leaned in closer to him. His soft lips met yours and you embraced in a cute little kiss. Neither one of you pulled away, and both seemed to know what was to happen next. You kicked off you shows and pushed your body closer to his. You felt a hardness growing down there. It has been months since you last got laid and this was exciting, but hooking up with your fell camp counselor?! hey, we all have our stories.

Doyoung took off his shirt which revealed his toned stomach and abs. He had the cutest little happy line going down. You eyes bulged seeing how beautiful he was. He laughed and kissed your nose “do you mind if we... it’s been a long time... “ you nodded, thinking the same thing. He took you hand and placed it on his growing hardness. A quiet moaned slipped from his lips. You started to rub and he fumbled to take his pants off. He was wearing the cutest boxers. They had watermelons and you let out a giggle. Tough Doyoung is out here wearing cute little watermelon printed boxers. He shot you a look as he placed his hand on your stomach.

Your stomach and side area was super sensitive. You felt yourself getting wetter by the idea of what could happen later. He took a chance and moved his hand lower and lower. After playing with the waist band of your undies, his puppies asked for more. Sheepishly, “can we ... do it?” he asked as he began to take off your pants. You teased back “someone is eager.”

You got bot to stroking his length and his hand found itself at your moist (sorry not sorry if you hate this word) entrance. He began to circle your cl*t and you let out a moan. This made him go even faster, you threw back your head with pleasure. He was still hard as ever and you told him to stop as you moved down between his legs. You licked you lips got a lickin’ (I hate myself. I am also procrastinating). You never thought that you would ever have Kim Doyoung’s length in your mouth. It felt amazing. It was the perfect size for you not to gag on.

With each lick, he let out louder moans. Through breathy words, he said “so good, keep going, i’m close.” You stopped “oh? you’re not coming without me.” He grunted back “ugh fine.” He was clearly displeased, but wanted to finish so quickly placed his hands back in your pants.

A few moments later, he was tired of waiting and took his boxers and your undies. You turned your back to be spooned by him. He lined himself up with your wet and ready (slip and slide) entrance. Doyoung slowly glided himself in you, both of you letting out a sigh of pure bliss.

With every thrust, you became closer, and he did too. He pulled out for a second to slide on a rubber then he continued. You got on your hands and knees and he positioned himself behind you. He thrusted faster, but you needed more.

Somehow he knew that you needed more so he slide a hand on you cl*t and began rubbing as he continued to thrust. After a few minutes, you came and rode out your high as he did the same.

Flopping down next to him, breathlessly you told him that was a perfect way to end session 1. He held you closer before falling asleep.Deep down, you hope you can end the summer like this again. That was one of the best highs you ever had and it felt real good. You also knew to keep it professional. Or at least try to.

at 4am ish, you woke back up and told him that you need to drive back to camp before people think things. All of the counselors knew people hook up with on another on the last day of each session, but no one dares speak of it. Session II always has drammmaaaa and tea. A groggy Doyoung woke up and complained it was too early to go back. You got him into his car and drove back down the mountain back to camp.

The recovery week was a blessing. All of the counselors had little responsibility during the week except attend additional trainings from 10-5 daily. You and doyoung always ate lunch together but made sure to each breakfast and dinner desperately- you didn’t need any rumors going around camp.

Most of the other staff knew about the two of you, but everyone had their respectful partner at camp so... it didn’t bother you all that much. As long as the campers and camp director doesn’t know about it, it’s okay ;)

[end very end of camp]

Well, during the day, you and Doyoung keep it very professional. You tried to barely look at him. It was actually awkward sometimes that you couldn’t be together in public. The two of you didn’t know how to act. Every night, you snuck out somewhere different to hook up. It was the best sex of your life. It was kind of strange hooking up with him because you felt so close to him yet it’s not “official” a relationship. It was nearly impossible to truly “date” while at camp.

#nct fanfic #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung #doyoung fanfic #admin lanlan

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spiderfan22 · 5 years ago

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DAY THREE HUNDRED AND FORTY-SEVEN - 11/24/19

��CHARLIE, OR HOW MEN TALK ABOUT WOMEN” by DJS

So I put more work into this one. Hope it shows. Special thanks to the podcast Slow Burn for the inspiration.

_____________

(November 1995. Late night, White House cafeteria. The place is empty and mostly dark. Bill Clinton, 42nd President of the United States, sits eating a cold slice of cheese pizza, washing it down with a can of Pepsi, the rest of the pizza along with a file on the table next to him. He is alone. Enter Dick Morris, political advisor.)

Clinton: Well if it ain’t “Charlie”. Back from the wars.

Dick: Mister President.

Clinton: (taps file with greasy pizza finger) So camping, huh? They want me to go camping, ‘stead of play golf. Think golf is too what, snooty or something? “How I spent my summer vacation” —

Dick: Mister President, you asked me to put the poll in the field.

Clinton: But I like golfing, it relaxes me. Don’t got a handicap for shit, but—

Dick: Well then, you’ll just have to wait, won’t you sir? I mean, plenty of time after you leave office.

Clinton: Oh, in that case only next year—

Dick: Come on, now don't. You know you’re gonna win re-election—

Clinton: Think so, do ya? After I just got my ass handed to me in the midterms?

Dick: A setback.

Clinton: More’n a setback, Dick. That son of a bitch Gingrich is calling it a mandate on my policies, that I just got my BUTT SPANKED by the American people! You know a Republican hasn’t been Speaker of the House since the fifties? Now what is that?!

Dick: I’m a Republican.

Clinton: And you’d make a shitty speaker of the house, don’t get my started.

Dick: Go camping, Mister President. Show ‘em what a down to earth guy you are.

Clinton: Mosquitoes biting the hell out of your arms and ankles. And you can never get the damn tent put up right, takes half the damn day.

Dick: Think the Secret Service could help with that.

Clinton: (re pizza) You want a piece of this? It’s cold but—

Dick: No thank you sir, I already ate.

Clinton: (big bite) “Already ate...” What are you counting calories now? You on Weight Watchers? It’s called a midnight snack, it DOESN’T COUNT. Just go jogging like I do. (Wipes his mouth with a napkin. Pause)

Dick: So what’s going on, sir?

Clinton: What do you mean? Nothing.

Dick: Okay.

Clinton: Nothing. Just hungry.

Dick: Sure you’re not tired?

Clinton: ‘Course I’m tired, it’s one AM.

Dick: I know the hour, sir, but it’s the only time you seem to wanna meet with me. I tell ya, it makes a guy feel kind of special, sneaking him in, “under the cover of darkness” and whatnot. Though paradoxically one might come to the conclusion you’re embarrassed of me.

Clinton: Don’t inflate yourself, Dick. You know it’s just ‘cause George and those guys don’t like me consulting with you. But can I help it if we’re old friends, that I VALUE your opinion? That a DISSENTING VOICE every now and then might actually be a GOOD thing?

Dick: Aww, sir. Well that warms my heart to hear you say that, bastard stepchild that I am. (Beat) So you really don’t wanna let me in on what’s going on?

Clinton: Jesus, I already said, nothing! Why do you gotta keep hounding me?

Dick: Well, a couple reasons sir. One you don’t like wasting people’s time, so if there was nothing else, you’d just tell me to go on home and call it a night—

Clinton: Christ, go home, who’s stopping ya?

Dick: (continuing over) --which I’d be more than obliged to do, only the second thing is, I know you of course.

Clinton: What do you mean you KNOW me? Like you can read my mind? Get out of here!

Dick: My mistake then, Mister President. Goodnight, sir. (Turns to leave)

Clinton: WAIT, DICK.

Dick: (pause) Yes sir?

Clinton: No, just...hold on a minute.

Dick: Will do.

(He waits. Silence. Clinton sips his Pepsi. Then)

Clinton: Something...something happened.

Dick: When?

Clinton: Today. Tonight.

Dick: Oh yeah?

Clinton: Yeah, I—I met someone.

Dick: Girl? (Clinton nods) Who is she?

Clinton: She’s uh...well I guess you’d call her an intern.

Dick: In the White House?

Clinton: Of course in the White House! What do you think?

Dick: I don’t know, sir. You get around.

Clinton: (a small chuckle) Heh, yeah, spose I do. (Pause) Anyway.

Dick: So, an intern. Where’d you meet?

Clinton: Leon’s office, she’s working out of Leon’s office—for the moment. Ever since the damn shutdown, you know, with the regular staff being furloughed and all—you know?

Dick: I know.

Clinton: Well there’s been an influx of em. Unpaid.

Dick: Free labor.

Clinton: Lots, yeah. Most of them young...just graduated college. (Pause) But men and women, you know?

Dick: What’s her name?

Clinton: (pause) I don’t know if I want to tell you that yet.

Dick: Then tell me what happened.

Clinton: Well, I went in there, to see Leon, you know, for something, and I don’t know if she noticed me first or I noticed her, but she’s just standing there, this young girl. So I introduced myself.

Dick: As if such a thing was necessary.

Clinton: Well, yeah but, you know, for formality’s sake... (Dick nods) So I asked if this was her first day, and she said no, she had started earlier in the week, but it was all still pretty new, you know? Just real sweet. I asked where she was from.

Dick: Small talk.

Clinton: Chit-chat, yeah. Getting to know you stuff.

Dick: Then what?

Clinton: Then...that was it. I went back to the Oval. (Pause) Till later.

Dick: Later?

Clinton: Little bit later, yeah. I found an excuse to pop back in. Leon was I don’t know where, in a meeting or something.

Dick: Makes sense.

Clinton: She was doing some filing, just standing by a file cabinet. Round the corner from the door, so you couldn’t see from the hallway...unless you stuck head all the way in.

Dick: Convenient.

Clinton: So I go over to her, you know? Ask how she’s doing, how her first week is going, anyone giving her any trouble. She says no, in fact everyone’s been real nice, maybe a little stressed with the shutdown, she’s knows that’s, that we’ve all got that on our minds, and how we can end it, but overall still very welcoming despite that.

Dick: A very personable young woman it sounds like.

Clinton: Complimentary, too. She said how it was just so exciting to be around such important people, with an important job to do. (Pause) Then she, she did this thing. I don’t even know how to describe it. She kind of gave me a look, this playful look like DID I WANT TO SEE SOMETHING, and I must have given her a look back like a smile or something that said SURE, I CAN PLAY ALONG. So with this same playful bordering-on-mischievous little kind of smile of hers, she pulled up her shirt, her blouse, you know...and wouldn’t you believe it but she HAD ON THIS THONG, Dick—I mean sticking right up out her skirt, so you could see it. Black, this black string thong, you know, like from Frederick’s of Hollywood, Victoria’s Secret, one of them catalogues. And you know I been around, seen my fair share of...what’s out there. I’m not an easy man to surprise...that way. But to be so direct about it, so confident—to come right TO THE POINT...hell, I think I mighta even blushed, Dick. (Pause)

Dick: Wow. If I may say, sir—

Clinton: But it wasn’t over yet.

Dick: It wasn’t?

Clinton: No, I—I excused myself, after thanking her, and maybe we would bump into each other again later. If she was working late. None of this was planned, you see.

Dick: Yes, sir.

Clinton: And well, you know, you never know what the rest of the day is gonna look like, but just as it happens later that night I’m coming down the hall and she’s coming the other way and as we get closer to each other I sort of motion her to this office no one’s in, it’s dark and we duck in and I, I close the door and the first thing I ask is, you know, if she likes me, which I already have a pretty good feeling about, but she confirms it, looking up at me she says she’s had a crush on me for a long time, she thinks I’m really handsome, from seeing me on TV and, and likes my suits, and I say how I know we just met but I have a feeling I could like her too, that I liked her right off, and I ask if I can kiss her, and she says yes. So we kiss. (Pause) We kissed. And it was very sweet, and very innocent, and I would even use the word chaste to describe it, like we were teenagers or something and this was our first date—which I guess, you know, it was.

Dick: Sounds like quite a night, sir.

Clinton: Haven’t gotten to the best part.

Dick: Oh? Well...

Clinton: We meet up again later. No pretense anymore. It’s late, everyone’s gone home by now—I mean, Betty’s still there but [what’s she gonna do?]—so I invite her to my private office. And it’s like it’s just us alone together in this whole big building. It seems so small and quiet. And she looks up at me—big eyes, glassy, maybe she was crying, I don’t know. But before I can think about it...

(He trails off. Long pause)

Dick: Well, that’s some story, Mister President.

Clinton: I know. I know. What am I gonna do, Dick? I can’t keep seeing this girl! But I want to!

Dick: ‘Course you want to. You’re only a man.

Clinton: She gave me her number.

Dick: Stands to reason.

Clinton: I don’t know, maybe if things were going better with Hillary—

Dick: The question is how much do you trust your security detail. Because IF—and this is a big if—but IF you were going to continue to see this girl, it would really fall under their purview. They’d be your first line of defense.

Clinton: You’re talking about actually having an affair?

Dick: Why not? Your hero JFK did it.

Clinton: But that was a different time! And even then he barely got away with it; everybody knew! And besides haven’t we had enough problems, enough scandals already, what with Travel Gate and White Water, and Vince Foster going and killing himself over nothing!—and that bastard Ken Starr breathing down my neck!

Dick: All good points, sir.

Clinton: I can’t, Dick, there’s no way. It would be putting too much in jeopardy. And with the election next year—

Dick: Say no more.

(Silence)

Clinton: It would be nice though, wouldn’t it? Like a breath of fresh air.

Dick: We can’t always get what we want.

Clinton: Rolling Stones.

Dick: Yes sir.

Clinton: Mick Jagger. You know I met him once?

Dick: No sir, I didn’t.

Clinton: Yeah, back during the campaign, at a stop in Chicago I think. They were on tour. Now there’s a guy who could get any woman he wants, and not have to worry a lick. (Shaking his head) Rock stars, boy.

Dick: You know, politicians have their groupies too, sir. I think we can agree this is a bullet best dodged.

Clinton: No. No. That’s just it. This was the real thing.

(Beat)

Dick: Go camping, Mister President.

Clinton: Yeah. (Pause) Yeah. Thank you, Dick. For everything, the advice and— (Holds up file) These numbers. You’re a good friend.

Dick: My pleasure, sir, anytime. And it’s “Charlie” remember?

Clinton: “Charlie” right. Heh.

Dick: I mean, cool codename, might as well use it.

Clinton: Yeah.

Dick: Well, goodnight, sir.

Clinton: G’night. (Dick starts to exit) Hey Dick, fore you go—the Secret Service. They get you in and out pretty easy, right? No questions?

Dick: Sir?

(Pause)

Clinton: I’m just asking.

#billclinton #dickmorris #whitehouse #westwing #affair #intern #pizza #pepsi #POTUS #howmentalkaboutwomen #ugh

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amazable01 · 6 years ago

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My Life Right Now (AKA Life Update)

I’m putting this under a cut because it tackles some stuff that I don’t want people to get triggered by. If you do read, buckle up. This one is a doozy.

TW: Breakups, Relationship issues, Possibly abusive relationship, School stress, mild to severe depressive mood swing mentions, other stuff related to depression and anxiety, chronic pain, homophobia/transphobia mention.

So, to understand everything, I need to go back a bit, and explain a few things. This is long, I’m sorry, but I need you all to understand EXACTLY why this all is important to me.

A few years ago, I was working for an all girl’s camp near my town for a couple weeks as a counselor in training. This was my 2nd ever year at camp, but I was determined to make this work.

Over those 2 weeks, I met some of the most impressive and interesting girls of my life, some I still keep in contact with occasionally.

But the two main girls I hung out with were A and O. I censored their names, since they don’t deserve to be caught up in this.

A and O were MASSIVE Youtube nerds, just like I was back then. Markiplier, Jacksepticeye, SkyDoesMinecraft. You name it, we knew it. They actually introduced me to Thomas, believe it or not. They were there before Accepting Anxiety, and I joined the week after camp through vigorous binge-watching.

Anyway, after camp, I kept contact with A and O. A lives across state, and we never really talk much, unfortunately. But O lives nearby. Only about 30-35 minutes away.

O also had expressed a romantic, bordering a bit on sexual, interest in me. It was a giant shock to a 13 year old depressed child who, until that time, hadn’t thought of herself as anything other than a straight, ugly, fat potato. She made me feel valued. Worth something.

We became a thing a few months afterwards, and everything was great. Dating was a blast with her. We went to dances, hung out at home, kissed. We did everything together, and it was great.

Looking back on it with sober eyes, I don’t know why I never noticed how draining that relationship was. How bracelets, flowers, books, and food replaced those moments that had felt so real at camp.

Anyway, we became a thing, and had the most stereotypical whirlwind romance you’ve ever seen. We fit so perfectly together, two pieces of one of those best friend necklaces. I was her Sun, and she was my Moon.

And then summer came. We didn’t really talk much over that summer, and I grew into a much more powerful and self-loving person. I found a voice that the year before had been ripped from me. I found who I am today, a confident bitch who won’t let others trample her.

I guess I didn’t realize how much I had really changed.

We went on a date a few days before the school year. My mom had told me that day, and I felt kinda excited. And... and then we got there.

I felt nothing on that date. The entire time we were there, I felt so apathetic, so empty. So lost. I hid on my phone to try to figure out what was wrong.

O didn’t take too kindly to that. She told me off for being detached, for being rude. And we decided we’d become a QPR, to see if anything come come from this.

Keep in mind before I say this next section. I still love O as a friend. She still holds a piece of my heart that I can NEVER get back. But, what happens next... that was the moment I lost myself to her.

She didn’t talk to me unless I called or texted her. Gone were the days of 4 hours sitting on the phone chatting about whatever came to mind. We were lucky if we got 5 minutes. I was lucky if I got 5 minutes.

Responses were small, less than a sentence most days. Any questions about where we were, or WHAT we were, were met with all caps and exclamation points, making me feel awful about even trying.

So... I stopped trying. I stopped texting and calling her altogether. My head would be FILLED with regrets, depressive thoughts, ways I could right everything and go back to that time when we were going to live together. But I wanted to respect her still, so I let myself be alone, ripped into shreds for a POSSIBLE hope that... maybe it would all get better.

That is, until today.

At 3:05 PM, February 11, 2019, we officially broke up.

Why am I telling you this?

Because I feel you deserve to know why I’ve been so low. Why fics are missing. Why I’ve been picking at small seeds of content that take no extra energy.

It’s because I’m tired, you guys.

I’m tired emotionally, because of my breakup.

I’m tired mentally, from day after fucking day of school.

I’m tired physically, due to the same chronic pain that made my mother bedridden.

And, finally, I’m tired metaphorically, since I’ve been shoved down into becoming another number at a school that deadnames kids for fun and lets homophobes do whatever the fuck they want since the staff is the same damned way.

So, that’s my life guys.

Just... Give me some time to figure all this out. I’ll be back to writing soon.

I just need time...

#<3 you all #I just need some time #Read at your own risk

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bts-love-sweat-tears · 6 years ago

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Julie’s Love Yourself Concert Diary

Concert Date: September 29, 2018

Written: September 30, 2018

Warnings: I curse more than I should?

Words: 3,330ish-added a few things at the last minute (phew!)

A/N:

[Update: Tumblr couldn’t upload all my photos that I spent awhile choosing and placing, so I’m going to have to pare it down. Sorry bbs! I opted to cut my personal & merch photos in favor of the boys]

So I have one thousand and one things I should be working on-for school, for work, for my eventual job hunt. But instead I am going to write about last night’s experience while it was still fresh in my mind. I was thinking of doing a song-by-song play-by-play, but you can look up the setlist on Wikipedia, so instead I am going to talk about the things that jumped out at me. WARNING: This is essentially one giant spoiler, so I will try to put a “Read More” cut, though it’s been being weird for me lately. So scroll carefully if you’re going to a later date and don’t want to know. All photos taken on my (now ancient) iPhone 6, so I tried to choose the best ones). Will edit as I see typos I made.

I’m a little nervous since I usually write fiction instead of sharing my personal experience. Anyway, full disclosure that this is just my perspective, and I’m (always) happy to discuss things (civilly) if you disagree with me. <3 Photos and opinions are mine.- please don’t re-post anywhere else.

The Background/ Pulling a Namjoon and Leaving my Ticket at Home

Even though I was going to the Saturday show, I flew into LaGuardia using frequent flyer miles on Friday morning. I was staying with a friend in Queens, so I went straight to her apartment. I’m a grad student as most of you probably know at this point, so I spent most of Friday working on a paper that was due. I had two friends I met at last year’s concert going to the Friday concert, and they went for merch promptly at 9, but I had just arrived and had a deadline to meet for school. Around 4:30PM, I decided that I was done for the day and opened Ticketmaster to print my ticket for the next day’s show. When I logged in, I saw the notice that the ticket had been mailed to me. I remembered having seen that when I bought the ticket in May, but in my defense I was jet-lagged and ill on that day. Furthermore, I moved to and from NYC in that time for a summer internship, and SO MUCH HAD HAPPENED. The tickets had been mailed while I was living here and I had never seen them, so somehow it slipped my mind. Obviously I lived too far away, but I didn’t know if I could express overnight them, but I think when I called Ticketmaster, the old ones were deactivated when the guy tried to send me the link.

Anyway, print at home was not an option, so I called Ticketmaster and in a panic explained my situation. They said it happened all the time and offered to send me a link. Luckily I kept the rep on the line, because it turned out that even they couldn’t email a link because of the anti-scalpers/fraud/whatever.

Then the rep said that I could show the credit card, but I had literally cut it up the week prior since the Vendor (e.g. the store that the card was through) had switched their card to a different bank (e.g. Visa to Mastercard), so I seemed shady af, even though I was telling the truth. He said as long as I had a login to a statement showing the transaction (I didn’t, since they had opted to close the account at an institutional level). So I called my mom frantically, and luckily she is the hyper-organized type who keeps paper copies of everything and sent them to me. Seriously, Mom for the win! I run to this print shop as it’s closing and print everything out. I had the Ticketmaster receipt & order #, and two photo ID’s confirming my address. The guy said it should be fine, but I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. This was my one birthday gift and something I had been looking forward to for months. Anyway, my friend and I went out to a local bar near the Halsey (yes, the singer took her name from the station) stop on the L line, and I was super anti-social because I was so upset. I also burst a blood vessel in my eye (it will heal, no worries) because of too much birthday partying the prior weekend, so I’m sure I was a (sour) sight to behold.

I slept poorly for obvious reasons, and left the apartment around 7AM, and arrived to Prudential center around 8:30ish. There were only a few people outside of will call, but the GA line was already wrapped around the building. I made small talk with people outside of the box office, and one woman told me she had gotten soundcheck both days. Seriously, what kind of karma do I need for that to happen to me? She and her friends had been camping out since Thursday, and they were SUPER organized: while she waited in line, one was at merch, and someone else was holding their GA site. I almost wondered if they were a fansite or something. ARMY are a truly organized bunch (except for me, clearly).

Anyway, after another half hour of pure anxiety, they opened up will call and I was panicking, but they were really helpful and gave me my ticket after I verified the order number, showed my id and confirmed some other personal data. I decided then and there that nothing else mattered and I was just happy to be there and be in.

Waiting in line/Logistics/Staff

I left the box office, and got into the GA line. It was probably around 9:15, and the line had already doubled-back on itself all the way around the building. The woman from earlier told me that her friend had got #1000 and was only 3 rows back, so I still had some hope. Basically, you line up to get your spot in line- though it’s kinda dumb that you have to line up twice, it makes security go faster and guarantees that there isn’t a huge surge/stronger people cutting in line later.

I wore what I thought were my most comfortable shoes, but after standing on concrete for hours, I don’t think it makes a difference. People were so friendly though- I never once felt awkward even though I was by myself. The same was true last year- the friends who had gone up for merch on Friday I met while in line at last years’ Wings concert. I chatted with people around me, drank the two bottles of water I had, and looked at my phone. Bring an umbrella for shade and sunscreen though-I didn’t and am rocking a nice farmers burn/tan today. It wasn’t humid though, and it wasn’t raining, so it could have been so much worse.

Even though there were tons of people, everyone was well-behaved. I didn’t see any altercations, though as the day went on the staff seemed a bit overwhelmed with crowd control. I didn’t see too many people selling unofficial merch like last year, though I did buy a few necklaces (Joon and Chim, ofc).

After 3.5 hours, I finally got my wristband. They told us to be back by 2pm to line up for real, as they were going to try to open the doors at 3 instead of 3:30 (didn’t end up happening).

Merch

I then ran to merch, but there wasn’t much left. The fans/pickets were selling out as I got in line, and people were basically yelling “NOOOOOOOO” everytime the staff put up a “SOLD OUT” sticker. I bought what I could that was left, including a bracelet, which I’m actually in love with, the eco-tote (super overpriced tbh, $50 for a canvas bag), but the shopper bags were gone and I needed something to carry the box and batteries V3 ARMY Bomb I bought. I had one from last year that I also forgot, but I think the new version was cool because they are synced up with the music so you can change colors and patterns along with everyone else. Overall, it’s EXPEN$$$$IVE, but if anyone’s worth it, it’s Bangtan.

Newark

I was getting super tired after this, so I kinda passed on the photo studio table, big poster, and UNICEF stuff. I tried to go to Starbucks, but even though it was the middle of the day, I didn’t feel that safe, even though it was like 11:45 in the middle of the day. I’m a 27 year old who’s lived in Latin America (which is generally stereotyped for violence), solo traveled around the world, and I’m from the Rust Belt (aka home of true urban decay), but that part of Newark sketched me the heck out. Probably it would have been fine, but I opted for caution, and went to a Dunkin Donuts and empanada place right around the corner. The timing was actually good since we had to get back pretty quickly to line back up.

The second line was where the staff struggled, telling people to back up and get in order, but it seemed like staff were doing different things. Plus, if they wanted people to back up, they should have created room at the back first, before telling the front to basically “back that ass up” on the people behind them.

GA vs. Seated

I can say this- if you are short, you probably want a seat. Or if you have any kind of knee, back, or joint problems- I stood for approximately 14 straight hours on concrete yesterday. I am just under 5”5” but I was probably one of the taller people in the crowd, so I had a pretty good view. Even though they asked people to not take videos or record, you WILL be looking through a sea of cell phones. I could see pretty well, but sometimes when they were on the main stage I had a hard time seeing around other people’s arms.

Last time I had P2 seated, and the view was wonderful. I went to the bathroom, charged my phone, and ate nachos (lol), so it was generally a more chill experience. I was still super close but up a little higher and could see absolutely everything. But last night I was SO close I could see Joon’s dimples irl, and got splashed by both Jungkook and J-Hope when they threw the water bottles. Probably 100 people think this, but I’m also pretty sure Yoongi (and maybeeee Jimin) saw me jumping and singing along like crazy since I was one of the taller people. At the very least, Yoongi keep looking in the general direction I was in. Ofc I looked gross af with my messed up eye and crazy hair, but what I loved about the concert is that I was 100% able to forget all the insecurities I carry around with me on a day to day basis and have an AMAZING time.

Of course the whole place is crazy high energy, but I feel like last night was INSANELY high. I’m not sure if it was the overall vibe or if that was the GA influencing my opinion. It just depends on what kind of experience you want to have. Also, if you are claustrophobic, you should probably pass on GA. The guards kept forcing people to back up, at one point even coming in with a flashlight, and people would surge forward whenever a member came close. But someone said the night before was chill, so maybe it’s just luck of the draw.

The Show

The show was absolutely amazing. They opened with IDOL, which got people hyped from the get-go. Their dancing was ON POINT as always. People were chanting during the intro videos and chatting as it filled in, so it was a great vibe once again- just super happy feeling. The audio visual part was AMAZING, though I’m no pro, and I loved all of the concert outfits, especially Jimin’s super sparkly sweater. Lots of jumping, and lots of screams. I didn’t have earplugs and was fine, but if you’re sensitive to loud sounds I definitely recommend them. ISTG I remembered hearing a mashup of FIRE, but maybe not? Wikipedia seems to think not. But they played a few older ones too, which made me so soft and nostalgic.

More on the members during the concert

Kim Namjoon

Ok, this is so so so biased, let me start with that. If you’ve followed me for any amount of time, you know how much I love this man. Seeing him smiling and happy was amazing. And they had a professional translator for this concert, so I felt like Joon was able to relax a little and enjoy himself instead of worrying about translating for everyone else. He is just as tall and proportional as everyone says he is. Everyone talks about how soft he is these days (and I love it), but he has undeniable charisma when he raps. Plus him in sunglasses, ddaeng. Seeing him so close was akin to something spiritual for me (I SAW THE DIMPLES WITH MY OWN EYES), as were people shouting along with him to “Love.” At the end, he commented how we were all sharing the same air, and hearing him think the way (I know at least some of ) us think was so heartwarming.

Also during some of the videos, there were some NOT AT ALL subtle Minjoon moments.

Kim Seokjin

The crowd last night ADORED Jin and gave him all the attention he deserves to have all the time. People were chanting his name SO LOUDLY during instrumental breaks in Epiphany. His voice was phenomenal, particularly the high notes. it’s clear how hard he’s worked to make it sound so effortless. I noticed that people weren’t moving as much during some of his notes and I can only think it’s because we were literally transfixed. It’s well established, but I don’t think this man has any bad angles. Even in the still pictures I took while dancing, he DOESN’T look awkward in any of them. #impossible.

Min Yoongi

Suga was clearly happy about something last night- he was SO cute and happy. Other ARMY on the train back to the city agreed with me. His rapping was fire (duh), but he was really smiley and took out his earpiece a number of times to hear us screaming. “Seesaw” starts with him laying on a couch and I can think of no better way to capture his true soul (lol). He was extra attentive to fans, and I feel like what Tae mentioned in Burn the Stage, he was trying to memorize ARMY’s faces and live in the moment. I felt bad because there were clearly parts where he wanted us to sing along, but we couldn’t necessarily keep up with his tongue technology :P But people definitely tried their best.

Jung Hoseok

Idk what I can say here that’s new. J-Hope is one of the most charismatic members on the stage. And there’s something in the American air that turns him into Jay Hope. Seriously, he’s hard to move your eyes away from. “Just Dance” was the first solo track if I remember correctly and he did not disappoint. His glasses at the end were adorable, and one of the other members called him a “happy grandfather” or something like that. Seriously, if you’re still sleeping on Hobi, we can’t be friends.

Park Jimin

Jimin was ethereal as always, and the choreography for Serendipity was…..salacious, to say the least. Like if you thought the “Take Me Down” cover from last year’s Festa was too much, then idk what to tell you. Bring holy water or something. Despite the free water that fans were providing to others (ARMY are seriously the best) there was a different kind of thirst occurring, if you smell what I’m stepping in. Jimin is pure charisma, like J-Hope. Obviously their styles are totally different, but when they move, you stop whatever you’re doing and watch. Again, I didn’t even see many ARMY bombs moving during Serendipity- I think we were too entranced. I personally thought that he killed his vocals and did great, but he seemed a little tired or like he was working hard at it. Jimin was also the one (at least that I saw from my angle) that got the closest to the fans, crouching down and leaning over the teleprompters/fans/lights/ whatever the black boxes were at the edge of the stage.

Similar to Tae and Yoongi, I saw him looking at fans A LOT during the show. He was exactly how he seems in V Lives and cameras, and I’m fairly certain I would spontaneously combust if I ever ran into him irl (even if I didn’t know who he was)- he just radiates warmth and friendliness. Seriously, if I believed in magic, I feel like he would be able to influence people’s emotions.

Kim Taehyung

So many fic writers have this ultra primal (for lack of a better word?) for Tae, but all I see is a cute sweetheart. Obviously I’ve never seen someone create as much tension with their own arm as he does during Singularity, but when he’s not dancing, I just got a super innocent, cutesy vibe from him. His voice was so smooth last night. I mean, I knew, but now I KNOW. He actually was shooting hearts at one fan (how lucky they are), and pretended to fall down when they shot him back! They were further back in P2 as well so he really does work hard at paying attention to everyone. He actually called over another member (maybe Yoongi or Jimin? I was too busy trying to remember how to breathe, to see whatever he was seeing).

At the end he whipped a heart out of his beanie (how I pray to god someone got that moment on camera) a la Jin. He just seemed really comfortable in his own skin last night, and I was so grateful for it.

Jeon Jungkook

I had a hard time seeing most of his Euphoria performance as it was relatively early on and people were taking a shit ton of videos. He also stayed mostly on the main stage, rather than come out to the extension area near where I was. His abs are just as great in person, and the screams were (as is to be expected), absolutely deafening. They’ve talked about it in shows, but his voice is SO stable. Obviously they stopped at times and don’t use too much backing vocals, but it sounded EXACTLY how it does on the album. He threw something into the crowd (I think a banner) at the end, and it FLEW so far-back to P2 or further. They’re not kidding when they talk about how strong he is.

Final thoughts

At first, I was a little exhausted after my emotional trauma of the prior day, and from standing for so long but the minute it started I forgot everything else. I was salty when I couldn’t see that much bc of people recording (esp when they asked us not to), but I understand the specialness of the moment and wanting to have some tangible evidence that you were there. By the time the concert was over, I realized how special GA was, even if it’s more difficult logistically (since I went solo and didn’t have parents or friends to stand in). I still don’t know if it’s hit me that I was like 10 feet away from them, max. It reaffirmed how important they are to me. I didn’t write this to brag, but to hopefully share my perspective and let others live vicariously through my experience. If you want clarification or anything else, write to me!

#love yourself tour #newark day 2 #bts #bts army #concert diary #concert musings

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therealflyingoctopi · 6 years ago

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Transition Into 2019

It’s really late and I just want to say I at least started writing this on January 1st. 5 minutes away from the 2nd but I started on the first day of the new year. It’s really not important but there it is. I never fully know what to say when this time rolls around in fear of saying the exact same thing as the last year. And the year before that, and before that, and so on. I don’t know what to say that’s new, though. I’ll try to throw something together. 2018 was most definitely the most important year I’ve had. From start to finish, something always seemed to be happening. And even if it wasn’t, there was always something to look forward to, and that made the dull times more bearable. I entered 2018 having just made a handful of actual friends, real relationships, about 6 months earlier. My life was already so different than it had ever been. 2 and a half months in, I made another, rather large, handful of friends. Something I thought I wouldn’t be able to achieve for another few years. I went to Europe with these 20+ people over spring break and that trip changed my life. People say something changed their life a lot, but I’m telling you, this was massive. Seismic. So I made the best memories one can make while stuck in a group of new and lovely people overseas for 2 weeks. When I came home I felt recharged, energized. (Well aside from being very dead and tired from the trip, I felt like my life had a newer meaning.) After the Europe trip things were kind of slow again. But I had something to look forward to because the month after I got to go to Kelowna and see some of these people again and hang out with them for a weekend (which was also my birthday weekend, so I spent my 18th with some of my favourite people). I got to see most of these people again in June for my graduation, but before that, I was invited to another graduation. Well more of a prom, but I guess it counts. A childhood friend of mine invited me to be her prom escort so I did that. The past couple years I’ve been jumping at opportunities like this more where an old friend of mine that I haven’t seen or talked to in years either reaches out to me or I get to see them at some event. Rebuilding old relationships is something important, I find. Even if it’s extremely slow and probably will take years to grow close again, it shows you still care. And I do. Time, distance, and life just get in the way of those things all too often. So I went to my friend’s prom, made it through dancing with my very minimal knowledge, and overall had a blast. Fast forward to the following month, I was reunited with my Europe trip family (most of them anyway), along with a few other old friends from my online school, and had one of the best days of my life, dressing up fancy, being in the company of such special people, and having the best (and first) barn party I’ve ever had (with only the Europe trip friends). Staying up until 5 am and waking up 2 hours later was so so so worth it. Fast forward again to the end of June and beginning of July, I finally got to go back to my Bible camp. My first true home away from home. I heard someone say last month that home to a person can be where they first met God. Camp is where I first met God for real (in the summer of 2017), or renewed my relationship with Him after it fizzed out. So in that sense (and others), camp has become my home. Anyhow, I got to go back there. Finally, after 6 months of waiting, I was back. I was back on the leader team, I got to spend a week with some of my new friends from the year before and grow those even more, and I made a few new ones too. My life is just booming with real relationships now. After that staff training week I went home and continued to work on schoolwork (because I hadn’t officially graduated yet... and still haven’t... we’ll get to that). Unfortunately I was only able to lead at camp for one week this summer, but it was by far the best week yet. It was tough and may have seemed like a complete failure, with all the hyper kids not listening and whatnot, but we had some real deep and powerful times together as a cabin. I even knew two of my campers from the year before (who were in the same cabin, on the same week, with my same co-leader). Since then I’ve kept the connections with a few of those kids and they’re becoming amazing young men. It’s so cool to watch. After the summer’s end party (where the first group chat I’ve been in since grade 11 that hasn’t died within 3 months was created with 2 other friends and the Bee Movie of all things), I went home for a couple weeks. I worked on some school, did the normal everyday routine, but I also frantically tried to buy supplies and pack and prepare, because I was going on a new adventure. Camp had invited me after my first summer in 2017 to join their internship program when I had graduated (or was at least old enough and close enough to graduating I guess). After initially saying no to myself and thinking nothing but fear about it, I went with it and on September 11 I moved to my new home with my new family. (And oh what a family. I would go on and on about how much I love them and how close we’ve grown in only almost 4 short months but that would take up your entire day. I love them and they’re some of the most special relationships in my life.) Nothing I’ve ever done has lived up to this decision. Oh, so many things are close, but this is a life changing thing. It’s taken my life, my plans, my dreams, and thrown a bowling ball at it. All while God sits up watching me saying “just you wait” with the biggest grin on His face. Not 3 months ago I had a plan for the next chapter of my life. Or at least a rough idea. I was going to go to college this next school year (2019-2020) and get my music career going. While things in my life have shifted, that’s still not been pushed out. It’s simply waiting its turn. At this point I still do think that will be a vital part of my life and probably my career. But right now I’m living at camp, doing amazing things working with youth groups and the camp itself. Camp is where I feel I’m supposed to be right now and so I’m 99% sure I’m going back again next year. Once the internship is done, if I stay, I’ll be a full time missionary there. A year-round staff that has more roles and responsibilities. That’s where my life is headed right now. I don’t know what all it will entail but I’m so incredibly ecstatic. My life is moving forward faster than it ever has and I couldn’t be more excited. I am still held back by school (I know, it’s January and I haven’t finished my crap from June) but it is close, and I think I’ll be done and back on my feet and full time at camp by next month sometime. This is what you get when you spend too much time having fun with other things. Procrastination kills your dreams. Stay in school, kids. 2019 is going to be an insane year. I turn 19 in a few months and will then be old enough to vote (which is valid because we might get a new Prime Minister this year) even though I know absolutely nothing, zilch, nada, about politics. As I said before, I’m probably going to stay another year (at least, we’ll see as we go) at camp. That’s big. I’ve been working on music more in 2018, even put out a few simple instrumental pieces, and I plan to learn and do more. Hopefully I’ll learn how to play a few of my songs and get them out there. Relationships. Those are going to grow more beautiful every day and that’s probably what I’m most excited for this year. It still blows my mind every day that I have these amazing connections that I always thought would take me until my 20′s to make. I think about them all every day and often get emotional because all the love I feel is overwhelming. I don’t know how to wrap this up nice and pretty. Maybe I don’t have to. This one is mostly for my collection. For those of you that care and read my little blurbs, I’m glad I can share with you and I hope you got something out of this. But this one’s mostly for my “online journal” that’s kind of embedded into this blog and woven throughout all the other posts I’ve made. It’s a record of my life through thoughts, feelings, and events that I like to keep. All this mess being said, I hope your 2018 was something you’re proud of and was filled with unforgettable joyous moments. I hope that your 2019 will be all that multiplied by... a really big number. With a few new twists thrown in there too. Merry late Christmas, happy late New Year. Goodbye 2018, you were a gem and a half. Welcome 2019, let’s make you two full gems.

#New Years #2018 #2019

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captaincanute · 3 years ago

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Charlie Goes to Camp--Grant’s Take

We are all a great deal luckier that we realize, we usually get what we want - or near enough.

I wasn’t really thinking of working at camp. I tried to get a summer job everywhere in town, but every place shot me down because I was too young. The other guys in my grade had no problem. Having a fall birthday is a real downer. Plus I don’t look that old either. I really didn’t want to ride around on my bike all day and play mini-golf like last year. At church they announced that camp was short of male counselors. I had gone to camp for six years. It was fun, the counselors were mostly okay, but I had never thought of being one. I had done some babysitting and I was pretty good at it, but I wasn’t much of a jock and had never thought of talking about God outside of church. I thought all the counselors were college age. Anyways, I applied, Mr. Steeves interviewed me, and the next week I was in. It didn’t pay much but I thought it would be better than hanging around town. Definitely different.

They mostly gave me the youngest kids. They said it was because they were the easiest but I didn’t see it that way. More crying, just as much fighting and they didn’t listen at all. Plus they got up too early, often peed the bed, couldn’t take care of themselves and didn’t understand my devos. But they were cute most of the time and they looked up to me at least, even though I was only 15. The older campers probably would have given me a rougher time. Mr. Steeves said if I don’t tell them my age and act like I am 18 they will just assume I am. Maybe, but the other staff treated me like another camper half the time so, probably not. I never felt part of the staff group. Nine weeks of camp with only a day off in between sessions. It was tiring. The kids were always excited at the beginning of the week but as tired as I was at the end. It was better than hanging around at home.

The good thing was that I liked most of the kids and they liked me. One week a 9 year old from Jeff’s group even went to the director and kept begging him to let him transfer to my cabin until Mr. Steeves relented. I ended up sleeping on the floor. I will remember some of those boys for a while but, yes, Charlie definitely made an impression. When his parents dropped him off I didn’t know that he’d be a problem. It was the last week of camp, I had a full cabin, I was tired but more experienced. I figured I could handle it.

Frank was the first dropped off. Kind of tall for his age, very quiet, glued to his brother. His parents (foster parents) reminded us that he was not to be in a cabin with his brother, that he would attack older boys and his brother would defend him and then we would have chaos. Then they said that he would be okay with younger kids because he didn’t feel threatened by them. They said this right in front of their kids! I’d had a couple of bullies already that summer so I figured it would work out, but was not looking forward to it. Then Robbie registered—he was the other nine year old in the cabin. Much better. Looked like he would enjoy everything and not give me a hard time. Bradley showed up next. Now he looked like he was 7, hiding behind his stuffed dog. His parents were nice but I could tell that I was going to have to do everything for him, he was probably going to be homesick every night, and I would somehow have to keep Frank and maybe the others from bullying him. Sigh. Some kids were just too little to send to camp. Then the family came to register Charlie. The kid looked kinda shy so I went over and greeted him, “Hi Charlie, I’m your counselor, Grant.” His huge green eyes got even larger and he hid behind his baby sister. His dad said, “No, that’s Timmy. He’s still a bit young for camp.” “Where’s Charlie? I asked. This kid was definitely the right size, how big was the brother? They pointed to a wildly waving figure at the top of the highest tree in the camp and told me, “Good luck” and cut out! I had no idea what to do next. Mr. Steeves didn’t show the slightest concern. Then my last camper, Stephen, arrived. Stephen was really skinny, had wild eyes, talked incessantly and kept bugging his mom (divorced?) to let him run off and play. I brought him and the rest of the kids to the cabin, got them settled, showed them the playground where they could run off some energy and went to get Charlie.

He wouldn’t listen and come down from the tree. I was ready to give up but he finally obeyed. He had a huge suitcase that he could barely drag behind him. He was smaller than Bradley, smaller than his own brother. While Timmy was solid and solemn with dark hair, Charlie’s blonde brush cut stood up in every direction, he had bright blue eyes and didn’t act like he was scared of anything. He didn’t say much but sang to himself continually. I thought he would settle in if I could keep him busy and I was completely shocked when he freaked out during introductions and ran off. By the time I got to the door he was already out of sight. So much for having an easy last week of camp! I got the boys changed for swim time, got them to the lake and signed in and told Mr. Steeves what had happened. I didn’t even know which direction Charlie had gone but I told him maybe back up the tree. Luckily Mr. Steeves told me to stay with the other campers and help supervise swimming while he dealt with it. At least the kids were pretty good. I paired Frank off with Robbie because, who would want to fight with Robbie? Bradley didn’t want to go deeper than his knees in the water. Frank hung around his brother with no problems. Stephen hung around me talking incessantly with all kinds of wild stories and he and Robbie liked it when I threw them in the air so in the end it all worked out.

Mr. Steeves finally found Charlie around supper time. When they came in he was wet and muddy with his legs absolutely covered with scratches and stinging nettle bumps that he was scratching continually. He looked so beat up none of the kids said anything, just finished the meal in silence. Mr. Steeves took me aside and said Charlie was very upset with not getting an upper bunk and to talk him through the disappointment during wide game. I tried but he avoided me, was subdued during chapel and then went straight to sleep without any snack as soon as we got back to the cabin. No relationship building time there. Devos that night were normal—they all listened politely but had no questions and just wanted to talk among themselves or hear a story. Then at lights out Frank broke down crying, insisting that he couldn’t sleep away from his brother. I figured he could tough it out but it just got worse over the next hour until Bradley was cowering behind his dog looking like he was going to bawl too so I took Frank outside to calm him down. Mr. Steeves saw us and brought us over to Sauk and as soon as he opened the door Frank ran in, snuggled into his sleeping brother and the other kid just put his arm around him without waking up. Then we went outside and Mr. Steeves prayed with me and Eddie over the situation. I hate it when I can’t handle the problems on my own but what else could I do? I didn’t get to sleep until after 1:30.

If you read Charlie’s story, you know what the week went like. It was a pretty typical cabin group except for Charlie. Stephen was always hanging off me trying to get piggyback rides and talking at me. Frank was fine during the day because the other kids in the cabin looked up to him. Instead of Stephen and Charlie getting along because they were so much alike, they fought constantly because they were annoyed that they were so much alike! Bradley needed lots of attention but matured a bit over the week—camp is good for that—and didn’t sweat Charlie’s blow ups. I even thought they were becoming friends when I watched them make a sand castle on the beach while talking together. But when I got close enough to listen Bradley was telling himself a story about evil-doers attacking the castle and Charlie was singing Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and doing his own thing. Anyways it worked. Otherwise Charlie didn’t really interact with any of the kids or me. The other counselors thought I was careless because really I never knew where he was or what he was going to do next. But I had 4 other kids that needed attention too! He was oblivious to others but he was never mean even though talking about the social workers coming to apprehend him and his brother was really heavy for Frank. Some of these kids have tough lives. He was very smart and yet quite immature. He had a couple of major melt downs every day over nothing, but then told stories that would be completely unbelievable except that I couldn’t believe he could make them up either; he was just so matter-of-fact about his life. Like a grade one teacher hating him because he couldn’t say the letter ‘r’ so not letting him to talk at all, how does a little kid make something like that up? Or, as a 7 year old, singing a solo at church, is something I’ve never seen, except that he can sing really good. I mean, I believe he did all the crazy things he said because he had the scars to prove it. What kid can hold their breath for 2 minutes? He had me time him. Why would anyone keep trying to catch catfish babies if he always got stung by the mother? Why make that up? Or why would anyone count the cars in a parking lot? He has relatives that are Indians in Canada? He knows their names. Crazy story about a teenager who he got into a fight with yet didn’t end up getting pounded turning into the kid losing a foot after striking a floating beer bottle in a barefoot water-skiing accident? He has the name and address, look it up. Stephen’s stories were so far out that you would just laugh with him. Normal kid. Charlie’s stories were just scary. Brother almost drowning, him almost bleeding to death after a routine tonsillectomy, almost getting his neck broken, terrified with the idea of seeing a doctor. He didn’t seem to want any attention and you didn’t want to pity him, but how could you help him? What could you even say? I certainly couldn’t think of anything. And then when he left he gave me a hug and kissed me(!?) and said he forgave me for being inadequate to the job. So I guess that’s the answer. As a camp we did the best we could. And so did he. And that’s pretty hard to forget.

#summer camp #child pov #neuro-diversity #first fic #semi autobiographical

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garden-of-succulents · 7 years ago

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Part Two of Kent Parson and the Comeback Kid (click for Part One), the story about how 34-year-old Andy Scarlatti qualifies for the US Women's National Ice Hockey Team. Huge thanks to @onlysmallwings for helping to transcribe my handwriting!

Content notes: Graphic depiction of physical child abuse.

They talked her into it.

Terry and Mac and Janine said how great it would be to have her in a tournament that weekend, and Kent pointed out that if half the people she was there to see were going to be in Duluth anyway they might as well go and change their flight back, and at the last minute Sarah cancelled the dinner that would have conflicted with practice. She ended up spending sixteen hours playing hockey that week, delighted and charmed to be back, and then they hit her with the real whammy.

Patricia Lee was Andy's teammate in college. While Andy had struggled through the NCAA and gone on to run Twitters and coach children, Patricia was focused and put-together, won the Patty Kazmaier Award and played in the CWHL before being immediately signed when the NWHL started up. She'd moved home to Minneapolis to marry a nice Hmong boy both she and her family were wild about and have two kids in quick succession, but kept working as a performance coach and doing administration for the national women's team.

"It's my first time running camp," Patricia wheedled over the phone as Andy made dinner. "I want a friend there with me."

Andy laughed. "Excuse me, you're friends with everybody. Everyone there loves you."

"But you're so isolated," Patricia pleaded. "I could tell you all the worst gossip about everybody, and you're so socially unconnected, it would never get back to them. I need that outlet."

"It's during playoffs," Andy protested, stirring the sauce, though she reached over to knock her knuckles against the cupboard door out of superstitious habit.

"You always say your husband is useless during playoffs. Dump Nick with your mother-in-law and get out of the house. Let one of his boyfriends tend to his needs instead."

Andy paused, then said, "It's the National Selection Camp."

"Yeah, I know. Amy was at the tournament, she saw you, and she wants to bring you on. The coaches want to have a couple wildcards, that's all. It makes everybody work harder if there's an element of uncertainty."

"I'm not sure," Andy said.

Kent talked her into it.

She'd been to the National Selection Camp once before, a week after she graduated high school. They'd wished her luck on the loudspeaker her last day of classes.

When she didn't make the cut, her dad beat the shit out of her.

She beat the shit out of him too. He was the one who taught her how to fight, boxing gloves in a gym when she was 12, a lifetime of wrestling and dirty tricks and penalty calls he nodded with approval over.

When she got home he grilled her, afternoon to evening, about the week before. He was her coach, and he wanted to go over every last detail of the camp’s selection process, probing for her weaknesses. By 11 pm she got up, her hands in her hoodie pocket, and said, “I’m too tired for this. I’m going to bed.”

He put a flat hand on her shoulder, insisting that she sit, and she shrugged it off. He pushed; she pushed back. He stood in the door; she drove her elbow into his solar plexus. He grabbed her hoodie collar and backhanded her.

She blacked both his eyes.

He only stopped hitting her and let go when she was crumpled on the floor, everything bent into curling up, protecting her stomach and her head, saying brokenly, “Dad, stop. God, stop.” And when she took too long to sit up, they both knew she had a concussion from when he hit her head so hard it rebounded off the wall.

“Are you-“ he said, hands out, like he was afraid to touch her, ask. Like he was afraid of what he’d done.

“Don’t touch me,” she said, weak but distinct, and got up.

He followed her to the door of her bedroom, spewing orders and excuses as she threw a few things into the bags that hadn’t been unpacked from the selection camp. She ignored him. He moved aside as she shouldered past him, carrying purse and hockey bag and suitcase and pillow. She left the house with him thundering that he was going to call the cops because she shouldn’t drive.

At the time, she didn’t care. It was almost two hours to her mom’s place, and she stopped once to throw up and buy a big bottle of water, but after a while she sadly concluded the cops weren’t going to pull her over so she’d have to drive the rest of the way herself.

At the apartment she kept grimly pounding on the door (the building’s rear entrance had been propped open with a brick) and tried to come up with her next step if her mom didn’t live there anymore; but eventually Elaine’s boyfriend came to the door in boxers and a t-shirt and let Andy in.

In the morning her mother gave her coffee and took pictures of her injuries and said, “I’ll fix this.”

She didn’t, of course. There was a court judgment against her saying she was unfit to get custody and as her boyfriend pointed out, Andy’s dad could counter-charge her with assault. Andy just kept her head down for the rest of summer, working out at the YMCA and trying to avoid juvie or foster care. She got into the dorms in mid-August for university training camp and in October she turned 18 and it all blew over.

She wasn’t invited to selection camp in the following year. She got sent down to Division III two years later. She had basically always believed that after that night, her hockey career was all downhill from there.

And the thing was, she only got as far as she did the second time around because she was married to Kent Parson. It was infuriating.

If women's leagues had been like the men's leagues--if there were thousands of paying positions on professional teams, instead of the couple hundred unpaid spots there were when she graduated college, or the couple dozen spots that paid peanuts available now--she might not have ended up among the top of them when she graduated. She wasn't at a good place, mentally or physically, and might have signed with the equivalent of the AHL at 22. She hung out in Minneapolis with AHL players, knew it wasn't a sumptuous living like NHL contracts but it paid rent and beer and protein powder, and the most important part was: Someone would be willing to fund her to work out and train and play hockey all day. She would have done that until she retired, and been happy.

Patricia Lee wrote computer programs during the week, her entire playing career. She did her best to work out and train as much as she could, but the biggest chunk of her working hours was spent writing code. The CWHL didn't pay, back then, but sponsors supplied her with skates and pads and one stick a season, and an NWHL salary let her cut work down to two days a week before she retired. She and the teammates she lived with cooked all their own meals.

Living with Kent, it was so easy. The Aces' dietician had a friend whose business was fresh-delivered meal ingredients. The players sat down with Marco to work out their meal plans, and if they handed those meal plans over to Julia, she'd deliver meal ingredients to them daily, already portioned out and peeled and prepared for the skillet. It was like Blue Apron, but more exclusive; Julia made a tidy living from about thirty clients. And when Andy moved in, Marco stopped by her office one day and said, "Hey, Kent paid for Julia just to throw your food in with his, so I wanted to ask, what's your intake? You doing more strength or cardio lately?"

She did roller derby two nights a week, which was as much exercise as some of their players did ever; but she also spent so much time in the weight room at the back of their house, talking to Kent as he pumped iron, that it made sense to get on a machine and do some of the work herself at home. Then she got to know Swoops and Cam and Mikey enough to feel comfortable working out with them on Saturdays at a gym in town. The trainers there knew her, and knew her routine when she worked out with the Aces, so she went weekends the boys were out of town, too. And Kent preferred swimming to distance running after his knee got gummy, and that was easy for her too; so before she knew it, she was working out 20 hours a week, double what she'd been doing before in Minnesota.

Her office was in the Aces practice facility in Henderson. The offices clustered at the side nearest the parking lot, and she had a computer and a desk that she worked at; but the other end of the building was the rink, the gym, the pool, and trainers' space. All Aces staff got access to these facilities when they weren't scheduled for use by the players of community teams, and Andy kept a hockey bag with skates behind her desk. She had to lace up and go out on the ice for the part of her job that meant coaching, but sometimes she went out just to get kinks out of her body and clear her head. By her second year, Kent would often come back from strategy and media in the afternoons, and she'd get her work done by four, and they'd spend an hour on the ice before the children she coached arrived.

They didn't play, not at first. He was so much better than her at hockey--which was kind of hard to avoid, because he was better than almost anybody--that they didn't even try; she didn't like to cry when she got frustrated, but it distressed him to see her working through something, stony-faced, with tears running down her cheeks. Instead they ran drills, usually more of what the team had been working on in the morning--skating, shooting, passing, anything. It was too frustrating when Mikey came back and put on his pads for them to score against, because Andy rarely could, but when his knee troubled him Kent played goalie instead.

It was how they relaxed. It kept Kent from showing up at dinner with his teeth clenched and an unsatisfied look on his face; instead he worked out with Andy until his hands shook and his eyes lost their wildness, and he could go home and eat.

They already knew, before she conceived, that she wasn't taking on the bulk of the childcare. She was coaching and often on the road; he took a year off after Nick's birth, scandalized everyone by embellishing knee surgery into actual paternity leave, but even still his mom moved in with them. Andy bore with the tension Karen sometimes generated, because her mother-in-law gave her so much more freedom. And when Kent went back to playing, Andy's time alone with her husband happened in the gym or on the ice, because all other time in their lives had been eaten.

It skewed everything, playing against Kent. Playing against the Aces. They accepted her as one of them, included her in jokes and parties, but Andy was always a little smaller, a little slower, a little less good, and she struggled to keep up with their worst players. When she and Kent played keep-away, it was an experiment for him skating with his bad knee immobilized in a brace, him dragging around the ice like an invalid without a crutch. That gave her enough of an advantage that he still almost always won, but only after a fight.

And anyway, she was retired. Her career was over. She was finished as a hockey player.

So it wasn't until she went up against women who played after work in beer leagues, who fed families and diapered children, who played games on weekends because they couldn't get weekdays off, that she realized how good she was.

She was numb after the roster announcement and managed to say a few mechanical things about being honoured and surprised, so it wasn't until she checked her phone and found an email from an NWHL address headed, "Free Agency Options" that Andy actually broke down crying.

Kent answered her videocall instantly and said, "I'm so proud of you," and stayed on the line until Patricia found Andy in the hallway with three of her new teammates behind her and surrounded her with hugs. He did say that he loved her and supported her and they'd talk when she got home, but he also understood when one of Andy's teammates said they needed to go bond now and hung up on him.

They went out for pizza.

(part 3)

#stuff i wrote #andy scarlatti #kent parson #kent parson and the comeback kid

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ryuuichinaruhodo · 5 years ago

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Work life limbo

I had gotten food poisoning the day before the exam for the apprenticeship, I was bedridden for over a week. That was frustrating as you could only apply for that next year. So what was I to do until then?

I had immersed myself into anime and games, attended comic con and got into manga. It wasn't until October when my dad invited me to work at my uncles restaurant as they were short staffed.

I worked there for a period of 3 months, earning £4/hr, below minimum wage. Being my first job, working 10hrs my feet were not used to the aching and tiredness and on my first day after I came back home I went straight to bed.

The prices on the menu were really cheap, 50p for a cup of tea for example, takeaway £4-5, buffet 6.30. The job itself wasn't that difficult, aside from the immense amount of chilli oil burning my hands. My ezcema flared up constantly when working with my hands. At times I would argue with my father, he was a different person when he worked. Easy to anger, stressed.

Other times I would argue with one specific customer who would get away with eating the whole buffet and getting a drink for only £2.

Working for my uncle, it's easy to see why he made millions: exploiting his employees by paying them almost nothing. He had owed my dad money for years.

End of that year the restaurant closed down, it didn't seem to be making any money. I mean the prices were really low and the customers always complained they were too high.

My next job after that was CeX, I stayed for about 4 months earning the minimum wage of 5.30. The job itself was alright, but there were management issues. At times I would have my lunch at 5pm. A full 8 hrs since I last ate and 2hrs before closing. They had employed too many young staff at one point and had cut my hours. I wasn't happy about the hours cut and the staff they hired made plenty of mistakes. One of them wasn't taught properly and gave away 2 expensive phones worth 2k.

After earning enough money to build a new pc for £1000, I left and decided to try look for an apprenticeship again.

I went to Lambeth college on the apprenticeship open day, I had the intention of looking for a digital marketing job or a construction one. In the end I went for a month coding course to see if I liked it or not.

This coding course was the wrong choice. We had to make an app from scratch, it was difficult and it still had a ton of bugs. It was unrealistic for us to make something perfect after just a month of training. But we managed and overall it was a success. However when the placements came, that's when I lost interest. I did 2 placements one at mylondonhome.

Originally there was supposed to be one other person doing the project with me, however he dropped out and I was left on my own to develop an app. So I did the best that I could, I made a prototype and thought that someone else would come in to build upon that. However they expected me to make full fledged app in just 2 weeks on my own. They only paid me minimum wage.

In the 2nd placement I did have a team to work with, but because we were all new to designing and making an app we struggled. Some of the issues we had was that we had to tether our phones to get internet to do our job. The supervisor incharge never provided us with internet and kept bouncing us between 2 locations. After about 2 weeks he told us it was shite, all that work we had put in shot down. What do you expect when you're not provided the support or the tools to do your job. The team gradually got smaller and smaller and went from 6 to just 3 people. I had enough of that stupidity and even though they were paying living wage it wasn't worth my time. I had to lead the team for some reason and in doing so felt like I was doing most of the work. All that work amounted to nothing in the end.

I took a break from working after those placements left a bad taste in my mouth. Everyone thinks I love coding, sure it's fun when you get into it but when you're first experience with something is terrible is hard to convince yourself to beat a dead horse and go back to it.

Next year my through my dad's connections I gotten a job in a high class Chinese restaurant. He said they would pay £10/hr. He was wrong it was minimum wage. I did part time - 6 days a week part time.

This job only lasted 5.5 weeks, I was treated like an outsider by the staff. They were horrible and picked on me. Whilst trying to learn how to do the job they just laughed at me for being slow. All I ever did in that restaurant was grab a cloth, wet it with vinegar and wipe plates. I asked one of the employees who worked over 2 years if he ever saw a raise. He never had gotten a raise. The manager there was the most useless person in the restaurant and made the wait staffs lives a nightmare. He couldn't do anything himself, couldn't use Excel, couldn't take orders, didn't know what the food looked like. So every 5 mins he would pick on someone to do something. It got old and annoying fast. I then started looking for another job. On my final day at the restaurant the staff started arguing with me saying I left work undone and that they helped me but that was a lie. They had to be forced by the manager when I complained for them to help me. My hours were done anyway, I was no longer part of it so they could not force me. The very fact that they lash out on my last day reaffirmed that I made the right choice to leave early.

The job I applied for seemed promising and I thought they would of accepted me for the role. But instead they opted for someone whose used to work there because they had experience. So I was left hanging .

As usual when a job has screwed me over I would take a short break. So that's what I did, I went back to playing games and watching anime.

Sometime in the summer my brother's friend was doing his own bubble tea business and was looking for a helper on the weekend. So as I usually do I thought why not. It was decent I would earn £50 for 7-8hrs work, around minimum wage. We went to a Thai festival in that year, travelled all the way to bath. My first time in bath the buildings looked like something out of a Victorian film. One of the issues with making such a sweet drink in the summer was the number of wasps that would attack you. There were issues with the job, like the menu being massive and that each drink had to be made in such a specific way, to the millimetre even. The owner also had issues with wanting everything to be perfect and that he could the job perfectly but others could not. After the summer had ended, there was no more business to be had so I was left with nothing to do for awhile.

A few months later in November and a random charity worker knocked on my door looking for people to donate to a good cause. Considering I had no job or income I wasn't able to give. However he told me if you don't have a job why dont you try this job? So that's what I did I tried yet again.

This job was a very difficult job, trying to get complete strangers to part with their money by reading off a script. I would have to knock over 150 doors each night. Being the middle or November the nights were very cold. 150 doors is alot of doors to knock but getting people to sign up to something was like a needle in a haystack. After just a short 2 days of training by reading off a script and given the procedure to get people to sign up, on my first day I had no idea what to expect, but I wasn't given all the equipment I needed to do the job. I was told it was my fault for not checking. How was I supposed to know what I needed? So I lashed out at them for their negligence. I tried for 2 weeks, I believe 99% of my training group left the job. The issue with this job is that you need a high level of fitness to knock 150 doors. We had one person who was overweight and they could not keep up. I could barely keep up myself having asthma. I had no choice but to quit after 2 weeks as that was the probation period.

I took an extended break until summer time came once again. I was ask to do the bubble tea again and I did. This time the owner had a van especially for bubble tea making. We had planned to do another event, this time about anime camping. So I went to help him out with this, even helping him receive a delivery at his house when he wasn't able to. The next day I went in the car of his friend and for about 6 hours we had a system in place that worked really well. Come 6pm we would pack up swiftly and head back. I was given £50 that day. The owner then asked me if I wanted to help him out tomorrow and so I did.

Like I said previously about the owner he had issues. When we had arrived at the venue he had managed to forget the straws! How do you forget that when you're making bubble tea? So at some point in the middle of the day he had to dip out and travel back to his house to grab more. I was left alone in charge for about an hour. I wasn't able to serve people without straws and was stuck waiting for him. After he came back he kept nitpicking everything, if a drink was slightly off he would tell me to make the whole drink from scratch, slowing the production. He said that he would finish up business by 6pm. He was still serving even at 9pm! Plus we had to pack up everything into the van after. That took a long time, we started packing at 8pm and didn't finish until 11pm. It had already been well over 12 hrs working and then he stuck around to chat to people when I was clearly tired and frustrated wanting to go home. It wouldn't be until 1am that I would get back home. After that he gave me £60 for the 'hardwork'. Wait so you're telling me yesterday I worked 6hrs and got £50, but today I worked 10+hrs and only got £10 more? What the fuck.

So I started to question him, I would like another £20. He for sure made alot of money in that event, there was no way he couldn't afford to pay me correctly after I had helped him receive supplies at his house, went out of my way to help him days in a row. Even Manning the station for an hour because of the straws. Guess what he made up a long list of excuses telling me he paid me less because I made mistakes and that he didn't even need my help. Saying that travelling in his car actually cut into my wages. Some fucking bullshit I tell you. I thought that being my brother's friend I could trust him to pay me a decent wage for my work. I started to go through his list of excuses and cut his lies to pieces, that's what my brother gave me when he saw it. Afterwards he called me up and said 'whats your problem?. That was the angriest I had ever gotten over the phone. I started going through his bullshit and he tried to say that it was justified to pay me less because I had to sit in his car. Well if I had known that I had to pay a journey fee to work for him I would have never helped in the first fucking place . Afterwards I told him he better send me the fucking money and when he did I was done with his sorry ass of a man. His girlfriend started attacking me over social media saying that it was £20 extra. No if fucking wasn't, it was the minimum wage that I had earned. It's my right to earn the legal wage.

After that ordeal I took a extended break once again until next year...

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