#best place to find local rentals

[gskproperties]

Searching For a House on Rent

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

[the-palette-of-living]

How to plan a budget-friendly vacation

"# Plan a Budget-Friendly Vacation

Vacations are a great way to relax, unwind and get away from the stresses of everyday life. But vacations can also be expensive, and it’s important to plan ahead to ensure that you can get the most out of your trip while staying within your budget. Here are some tips to help you plan a budget-friendly vacation that won’t break the bank.

Research Deals and Travel Packages

The first step to planning a budget-friendly vacation is to do your research. There are a lot of deals and travel packages that you can take advantage of to save money. Check online for discounts and deals, or call your local travel agent to get the best prices on flights, hotels, rental cars, and more.

Set a Realistic Budget

Once you’ve done your research, it’s time to set a budget. You should consider how much money you’re willing to spend on flights, hotels, food, activities, and more. Be realistic about what you can afford and stick to your budget so you don’t overspend.

Choose an Affordable Destination

When it comes to choosing a destination for your vacation, it’s important to find a place that’s within your budget. Consider places that don’t require lots of travel costs or expensive accommodations. You can also look for places that offer activities and attractions that are free or low cost.

Find Cheap Accommodations

Accommodations can be one of the biggest expenses on a vacation. To save money, consider staying in hostels, dorm rooms, or rental apartments rather than hotels. You can also try to find deals on hotel rooms or last-minute discounts.

Look for Free Activities

There are lots of activities that you can do on vacation that won’t cost you a lot of money. Look for free activities such as walking tours, outdoor concerts, parks, and more. You can also take advantage of discounts and deals on activities such as museums, attractions, and other tourist sites.

Try Local Cuisine

Eating out can be expensive, so it’s important to look for ways to save money on meals while on vacation. Try local restaurants and markets where you can get delicious and affordable food. You can also look for coupon deals or discounts at restaurants.

Avoid Overpacking

The cost of checked baggage fees can add up quickly, so it’s important to pack light and only bring what you need. Try to pack clothes that are versatile and can be used for different occasions. This will help you avoid having to buy new clothes while on vacation.

Vacations can be a great way to relax and escape from everyday life, but it’s important to plan ahead and be smart about your budget. Doing your research, setting a realistic budget, finding affordable accommodations and activities, and packing light are all great ways to save money while still having a great time on vacation."

Summary

Planning a vacation can be done on a budget by researching the best deals on flights and accommodations, creating a budget and sticking to it, and making smart choices when it comes to food and activities.

[bridgeicesbeforeroadif]

Bridge Ices Before Road!

Links: DEMO-PATREON-FORUM

Updated 10/29/24

~Summary~

Was there anything that could get between you and a gold medal?

Well, yes. A lot of things. There’s your family, including your annoying younger sibling. Moving back home with them will be tough, but it allows you to focus on your gains. There are competitions to win, and you have to stay in peak condition all the while. You also have your mother breathing down your neck to make sure nothing jeopardizes your chances at success. Your father is more hands-off. He almost always has half of his mind on work, even when he’s at home.

Your coach will guide you through the ups and downs of skating, as they’ve never let you down before. They remind you of your father a bit, never able to fully turn off part of their brain that thinks about work. You hope they remember to relax, and let you do the same.

Your childhood friend-turned-rival is always one step ahead of you these days. They beat you out as part of the top couple in the pairs free skate last year, and since then you haven’t been able to top their performances. You used to be friends, but now there was a fire in their eyes when they looked at you. Will you be able to mend this friendship?

Even worse, you run into an old bully of yours (that you might secretly have had a crush on since forever ago) who has just been appointed the captain of the local hockey team. He plays at your local rink now, and that means you’ll be seeing each other more than you’d like.

You find a friend in a fellow skater who becomes something of a pen-pal to you. They reach out over social media, and there’s an instant connection. They’re a total sweetheart, and you can’t wait to meet them at the first event.

 Finding your place again in your old hometown might sound tough, but nothing is tougher than being an Olympic athlete. You have to juggle training along with all that, but you try not to let it get you down. After all, skating is your passion!

Don't let the creepy figure outside your bedroom at night get you down. If you ignore it, it will be fine. It was just your imagination... right? Draw the curtains, drink some warm milk, and put on some music to drown out the haunting song whistled into the gaps in your windows. Tonight, you escape into your dreams knowing all the exits are locked up tight and there's no way in. It's all in your head.

But remember, escaping isn’t always an option.

~Features~

Customize your MC! Name, sexuality, appearance, hair, eyes, clothing, and more! (MC is genderlocked female)

Find friendship or romance in the least likely places! Each route has its own ups and downs with tailored story-telling.

Get stalked by a really big fan. No, I mean like a REALLY big fan. They know things about you that no one else does! Will you get away? Or will you be unable to stop their villainous plot?

Win (or lose) against the best skaters in the country– and the world!

~Romance Options~

Dallas Doverman

 male/6’0/20yo

 The hockey team captain. He bullied you in elementary and middle school. You can select whether or not you had a crush on him. They certainly had one on you, and that’s why they picked on you so much, not that you knew. Nowadays, instead of helping his dad around at the skate rental and pulling your pigtails, he plays ice hockey with the big boys. He was the youngest on the team, but still made captain in such a short time.

Dallas is tall and broad. His straight black hair is longer on top and rests above his ears, trimmed short on the sides. He’s grown a lot and lost that old baby fat that clung to his cheeks. A dark beard forms on his face, but doesn’t fully block out his skin.

Vincenzo/Valentina Ciolfi

 selectable m or f/5’8 or 5’5/18yo

 They were once your friend. Then, you went to Boxcroft and they didn’t. It was a shock to everyone, V included.  They swore to get better and become your superior someday. You hadn’t expected it to affect your relationship, but it did. You drifted apart, their hostility ever-growing and there was nothing you could do about it. 

With dewy, caramel skin and shoulder-length golden brown and almost blonde locs kept in a low ponytail, V just screams “over it.” They did not care enough to do anything to their hair or pick out a nice outfit. They do that for competitions, and that’s enough.

Argo/Allegra Papandreou

 Selectable m or f/5’10 or 5’6/28yo

 Your coach. They were just like you, hailed as a prodigy until they graduated school, then they stopped being a rising star and became a plateauing one. You followed their career almost religiously, and always wondered what changed. They only started coaching for you. Before that, they worked in accounting, the business for which they got their degree. You couldn’t believe that was what happened to the Starchild of Skating in the 2010’s. They saw real talent in you at a young age and changed career paths. You hope you weren’t a mistake.

Dark brown hair falls in waves over Argo’s ears. Anita wears hers long, down to her waist. They are leanly muscled, but toned all over. Even after years of being out of the game, they had not let their body grow flabby or let it fall out of use. They look as ripped as they did in their teens when they stole the show at Nationals when they were your age.

Bernhard Wagner

 male/6’5/20yo

 Someone that will eventually face you at the Olympics, you think. He’s friendlier than a competitor has any right to be and reached out to you in your private messages on Blipsta. He always speaks in a really cute way, with all kinds of emojis. He complimented your technique and you got to talking. He made it so easy to open up to him.

You don’t know what Bernhard looks like, not really. He did tell you that he’s tall and has blonde hair, but you kind of expected that. You guess you just have to wait to meet him.

[rootedinrevisions]

Up in the Air

SUMMARY: When WWE superstars find themselves with a rare day off, Rhea Ripley seizes the opportunity to play matchmaker at a local festival. As she drags her friends to food trucks, rides, and games, the sparks between you and Damian Priest begin to fly. With Rhea’s clever nudges and a series of comical misadventures, you and Damian are thrust into close quarters—sharing food, laughter, and unexpected moments of connection. But when a hot air balloon ride leaves you suspended high above the fairground, the thrill of the day turns into something deeper. THANK YOU TO MY BESTIE @caramara3 FOR GIVING ME THE IDEA FOR THIS ONE!

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

TAG LIST: @caramara3 @miss-kuki-nz @terrortwinunicorn

If you would like to be added to my WWE Tag List (or be tagged for a particular wrestler) please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The morning air buzzed with excitement as you, Rhea, and a few others milled around the hotel lobby, waiting to head out to the fairgrounds. It was rare to have a day off with no press, no match prep, and nothing but time to unwind and let loose. Rhea, as usual, had taken the reins, organizing a day packed with all the festival essentials: food trucks, rides, and even a hot air balloon finale.

As everyone piled into Rhea’s rental, she threw you a sly look over her shoulder. "Looks like we’re full up here,” she said, barely suppressing a smirk. “But, no worries! Damian’s driving separately. You can just hop in with him.”

A flutter of nerves hit you at the mention of Damian’s name. Sure, you were best friends, but there was that one night months back when you’d told Rhea—after one too many drinks—that Damian was, in your exact words, hot as hell and that, if given the chance, you’d “climb him like a tree.” You’d woken up the next morning in horror, hoping she’d forget the confession altogether. But the glint in her eye now told you she remembered every word, and by the look of things, she had her own plans today.

You swallowed hard, doing your best to keep your face casual. Just a car ride with a friend, you told yourself, ignoring the way your heart picked up pace. You looked around for him, half-hoping you could buy yourself some time, but there he was, rounding the corner, car keys in hand and that easy smile on his face.

“Ready to go?” Damian asked, flashing you a grin. 

You tried to keep your cool, but when his gaze lingered a second too long, it was hard to tell if it was just the morning sun or if there was something warmer in his eyes.

“Yep! Let’s go,” you replied, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. 

You tossed Rhea a glare over your shoulder, but she just winked, making it painfully clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

As you followed Damian to his car, you couldn’t shake the little knot of nerves twisting in your stomach. God, please don’t let her have said anything to him, you thought, taking a deep breath and reminding yourself that this was still Damian—your best friend. That was all… right?

The drive started off smooth, and with each mile that passed, your initial nerves began to melt away. Damian’s presence always had a calming effect on you, and today was no different.

“Can you believe Rhea?” Damian said, shooting you a grin as he turned onto the main road. “She gets one day off and somehow finds a way to make it as intense as a match night. Gotta respect her energy, though.”

You laughed, settling back in your seat. “She thrives on chaos, I swear. It’s impressive, honestly. I’m just hoping we get a chance to sit down and actually enjoy some food. I’m pretty sure she’s got us lined up to hit every ride in the place.”

Damian chuckled, his deep, warm laugh filling the car. “Oh, no doubt. I wouldn’t put it past her to try and cram us into one of those kiddie rides just to see us squirm.”

You snorted at the mental image of Damian—towering, muscular, and absolutely not designed to fit in a kiddie ride—squeezed next to Rhea, her devilish grin intact as she laughed at his discomfort.

"Honestly, though," Damian continued, glancing over at you with a small smirk, "I’m surprised you’re up for a fair day with all the people. I thought you’d want a chill day off.”

“True,” you admitted, meeting his eyes briefly before looking back out the window. “But the food trucks and rides kind of makeup for it. Plus, it’s… it’s good to spend time with everyone.”

“Yeah. You’re right,” he said quietly, his tone softer than before. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking. “And I guess if Rhea’s got us all there, it means she can’t get on my case for skipping something. Plus, there’s good food—and we’ll get to see Rhea’s attempt at ‘relaxing,’” he added with a teasing grin.

The drive continued like that, a comfortable back-and-forth of friendly jabs and easy conversation. A thought drifted through your mind as you watched Damian laugh and loosen up, more animated than usual. For all Rhea’s scheming, you had to admit she’d managed to put you both in a rare moment of peace, just the two of you, sharing a small slice of normalcy.

“Maybe she’s onto something with this,” you mused aloud, almost to yourself.

“Hmm?” Damian glanced over.

“Oh, nothing,” you said quickly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Just—grateful for a chance to relax, I guess.”

He seemed to consider this, a glimmer of something unreadable in his eyes as he nodded. “Yeah. Same here.” And then, with a light laugh that softened the moment, he added, “Even if it means Rhea’s running the show.”

As the car rolled to a stop in the fairgrounds parking lot, you felt a flicker of excitement building. The buzz of the festival was already in the air—music drifting over the hum of people, bright colors, and the smell of fair food. Damian parked and flashed you a grin, opening his door as you gathered your bag and stepped out, feeling his presence close by as the two of you made your way toward the entrance.

The crowd thickened as you neared the gates, a mix of families, groups of friends, and couples swirling together. You were doing your best to dodge elbows and strollers, but one particularly enthusiastic kid darted right in front of you, nearly taking out your knees. Damian reacted instantly, his hand slipping around your waist to steady you.

“Whoa,” he murmured, steadying you with a warm, firm grip. “Didn’t think we’d need wrestling moves to get through the entrance.”

You looked up, finding him a little closer than you expected. The feel of his hand on your waist sent a flutter through your stomach, and for a moment, you both stood there in silence, caught off guard by the closeness. His hand lingered just a second longer before he cleared his throat, his gaze darting to the side as he let go and stepped back slightly.

“You good?” he asked, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah—I’m good,” you replied quickly, suddenly aware of how warm your face felt. “Just, uh… hazards of fairgrounds, I guess.”

As you shifted, you caught sight of Rhea just a few paces ahead. She stood there, arms crossed, watching the two of you with a perfectly arched eyebrow and a smirk that spoke volumes. 

When you and Damian locked eyes with her, she only shrugged, biting back a grin as she turned and continued walking, pretending she hadn’t seen a thing.

Damian’s gaze flicked back to you, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “So… ready for this?”

You laughed, feeling the tension ease a bit. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With that, the two of you fell into step, each hyper-aware of the other’s presence as you followed Rhea and the others into the heart of the fair. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, and the look Damian had given you—just for a second—lingered in your mind longer than it should have.

As the group meandered through the fairgrounds, someone mentioned food, sparking an immediate chorus of agreement. Together, you all veered toward the food truck section, where delicious smells and sizzling sounds drifted through the air, setting your stomach rumbling.

“Alright,” Rhea declared with an almost mischievous grin, “time to do some serious food sampling. And I don’t want to hear anyone say they’re ‘not that hungry.’ This is a fair—appetites mandatory.”

The group dispersed, each person weaving between the trucks, picking up a mix of fried treats, skewers, tacos, and a few questionable “festival specials.”

After a few minutes, you and Damian met back up with Rhea, arms filled with an assortment of snacks. You eyed the collection with a laugh, impressed by the sheer variety.

“Think we got enough?” you asked, shooting a playful look at Damian.

“Maybe,” he replied, holding up a foot-long corn dog with a smirk. “But hey, Rhea said we’re sharing everything.”

As the group gathered around a picnic table, everyone started digging in, passing around baskets of food. It didn’t take long before Rhea nudged you and Damian with a sly grin. 

“Hey, you two—try this.” She handed you both a basket of churros dusted with cinnamon sugar. “Don’t be shy, share it.”

You exchanged a glance with Damian, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as you broke off a piece and handed it to him. As he took it, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a small, unexpected jolt up your arm.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice softer, eyes catching yours for a moment too long before he cleared his throat, focusing intently on the churro like it held the secrets of the universe.

You both went back to sampling, but Rhea wasn’t done. She grinned wickedly, holding up a cup of chili fries. “Alright, Damian, you gotta feed her one of these. Fair food tradition.”

“Oh, is it?” Damian asked, eyebrows raising, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Definitely,” Rhea replied, not backing down. “You gotta play along.”

Damian shook his head with a chuckle, lifting a fry and holding it up to you, his eyes daring you to play along too. With a laugh, you leaned in, letting him feed you the fry while the group laughed and cheered.

As you settled back into sampling the food with everyone else, you couldn’t help but notice how easily Damian’s laughter blended with yours, each unplanned touch and shared smile making you wonder if maybe, just maybe, Rhea’s matchmaking antics were onto something.

Later in the day, Rhea’s gaze zeroed in on an old-fashioned photo booth nestled between a cotton candy stand and a ring-toss game. Her eyes lit up mischievously, and she nudged you and Damian forward.

“Oh, you two have to do the photo booth,” she said, already steering you both toward it. “It’s basically a requirement at fairs.”

You laughed, glancing at Damian. “Do we have a choice?”

Damian grinned, shrugging. “Not really, apparently.”

The two of you squeezed into the booth, realizing just how cramped it actually was. The narrow bench barely had space for one person, let alone two. You tried hovering beside him, half-seated with one leg awkwardly propped against the side, but it was obvious you still weren’t fitting in the frame.

Damian glanced up at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “This isn’t going to work. Here, just—” He reached up and, with a gentle hand on your waist, guided you down until you were perched right on his thigh.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the unexpected closeness, his hands settling around your waist for balance. 

“There we go,” he said, giving a soft laugh as he adjusted to fit both of you in the frame. “Comfortable?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the machine counted down to snap the first photo. The screen flashed, and you both instinctively leaned closer, your laughter filling the small space as the camera clicked.

By the time the last shot snapped, you’d both lost any semblance of forced posing, your heads pressed close together, and Damian’s arm wrapped loosely around your waist to keep you steady. When the flash went off for the final picture, he glanced at you with an amused, almost softer expression.

The booth spit out the photo strip, and you both leaned over to look. The first picture captured your awkward attempt to fit, both of you laughing as you tried to squeeze into the frame. But the last one…there was something different. You were both relaxed, his hand resting on your side, your shoulders leaning into him, and both of you grinning like idiots.

Rhea, waiting outside the booth, snatched the photo strip out of Damian’s hands as soon as you stepped out, her eyes dancing as she scanned the shots. 

“Well, well,” she teased, “I’d say you two look pretty comfortable in there.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile on your face as Damian gave Rhea a playful nudge.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, laughing. But he caught your gaze for a brief second, and you felt a shared, silent acknowledgment of the moment that had passed between you.

Next Rhea led the group to the Fun House, Rhea’s face lit up with a look that could only mean she had something up her sleeve.

“Alright, here’s the deal—this’ll be way more fun in pairs,” she announced, throwing a wink in your direction. Before you could even react, she nudged you closer to Damian. “Go on, you two. We’ll meet up on the other side!”

Before either of you could protest, the rest of the group had split off into pairs and slipped into the house, leaving you and Damian standing alone by the entrance.

“Guess it’s you and me,” Damian said with a shrug, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he held the door open for you.

Inside, the Fun House was filled with dizzying mirrors, neon lights, and winding hallways that made every step feel like you were walking through a maze. Almost immediately, you and Damian lost sight of the others, the confusing turns and flashing lights making it easy for the two of you to drift deeper into the attraction.

“This place is like a maze,” Damian said, his voice echoing as you both walked down a narrow hallway lined with funhouse mirrors. “Good luck if they’re expecting us out of here anytime soon.”

You laughed, but before you could respond, a loud bang sounded from the wall beside you, and a mechanical figure sprang out, making you yelp and instinctively reach for Damian’s arm.

Damian chuckled, steadying you as he threw an arm around your shoulders. “Hey, don’t worry,” he teased. “I’ll protect you from all the creepy mannequins in here.”

“I appreciate it,” you said, trying to calm your racing heart but smiling despite yourself.

You continued through the winding halls, your laughter echoing off the walls as more jump scares and sudden noises popped up at every corner. The deeper you went, the darker and narrower the passageways became, and with each unexpected scare, you found yourself clinging to Damian’s arm a little longer, the mix of fear and excitement making it hard to let go.

Finally, as you turned another corner, a new scare jumped out—a skeleton puppet lunging from the side with a loud, exaggerated scream. You gasped, grabbing onto Damian and pulling yourself close to him, burying your face in his shoulder. His arm slipped around your waist instinctively, pulling you flush against him.

When you looked up, you found yourself staring into his dark eyes, the closeness and dim light blurring the rest of the world around you. Damian’s hand lingered on your waist, his gaze holding yours a beat longer than necessary. The energy between you felt electric, the laughter and adrenaline still fresh.

For a moment, you both seemed to realize at the same time how close you were, and you pulled back slightly, both of you chuckling as you tried to shake off the moment.

“This is the last time I let Rhea take us to a Fun House,” Damian joked, though his voice was softer, his gaze lingering just a moment more before he looked away.

But you couldn’t ignore the way his arm stayed wrapped around you as you both made your way out of the Fun House, the thrill of the jump scares leaving behind something deeper, a hint of a connection that you’d both felt—and maybe weren’t quite ready to let go of yet.

As soon as you stepped into the ride section of the fair, Rhea was already beaming with that mischievous look that had been her theme for the day. The bright, colorful rides spun and whirled around you, laughter and screams filling the air.

“Alright, who’s up for some classic carnival rides?” Rhea said, eyes twinkling as she glanced between you and Damian. Before you could even decide for yourself, she had her answer ready. “Oh, and you two, obviously, should ride together. You know, for moral support,” she added with a smirk.

Damian raised an eyebrow but shrugged good-naturedly. “Lead the way,” he said, gesturing to the first ride in line, which happened to be the Ferris wheel.

You both climbed into the cramped gondola, the small seat forcing you to squeeze close together. The wheel jolted to life, and as you were lifted into the air, the view over the fairgrounds spread out below. The sounds and colors felt a little more distant and surreal up there, the world condensed into a pocket of stillness where it was just you and Damian.

“Not exactly made for tall people, huh?” you teased, glancing at him as he shifted uncomfortably in the tight space, knees nearly pressed to his chest.

He laughed, glancing down at his long legs, awkwardly folded to fit. “Pretty sure this thing is meant for kids,” he replied, shaking his head. “I could practically lift it off the track if I needed to.”

As you both laughed, the wheel rotated again, giving you both a slight jolt that made you clutch his arm out of reflex. He turned to you, amused, but his hand found yours on his arm and squeezed it gently, giving you a reassuring smile.

When the Ferris wheel finally brought you back to the ground, you moved on to the teacups. As you got into the tiny seat across from Damian, his knees pressed against the side and his arms nearly hit the handles as he tried to situate himself. The sight of him, usually so composed and intimidating, squeezing himself into such a small space was comical, and you couldn’t stop yourself from bursting into laughter.

“Laugh it up,” he said, pretending to glare. “Just wait until I start spinning this thing.”

And he did. He twisted the wheel with surprising force, sending your teacup into a whirlwind of spins. You laughed as you held onto the edges, the two of you dizzy and laughing by the time it finally stopped. It wasn’t until you stepped out of the teacup that you realized you were still holding onto his hand, and he hadn’t let go either.

As you both stumbled out, laughing and catching your breath, Rhea waved at you from the next ride—a small roller coaster barely taller than you. She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and you felt your cheeks flush, realizing she’d probably noticed every single moment of the chemistry she’d been sparking all day.

Damian cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he led you toward the next ride. “I think Rhea’s enjoying this way too much.”

You nodded, a smile creeping across your face. “But, you know… I’m not complaining.”

The group meandered back toward the midway, the sounds of carnival games buzzing around you. Plush toys hung from every booth, their bright colors beckoning players. Damian glanced around at the rows of games and muttered with a slight smirk, “You know, these things are just one big rip-off.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged with a grin. “But I’ve always thought it’d be cute if someone won one of those for me.” You nodded toward a particularly large, soft-looking bear dangling over the ring toss booth. “Unfortunately, none of my exes could ever beat the games,” you added with a playful sigh.

Damian’s smirk faded as he looked between you and the plush bear. “Well, maybe they just didn’t have the right skills,” he said casually, though you didn’t miss the competitive glint in his eyes. As if acting on impulse, he stepped up to the ring toss booth and slapped some money down. “Let’s give it a shot,” he said with a confident shrug.

His first attempt was… less than stellar. The ring flew far too wide and clattered pathetically off the side of the bottles. He rolled his eyes, huffing with a laugh. “All right, that was just a warm-up,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

As he tried again, his jaw set with a new focus, his competitive streak kicking in. He narrowed his gaze, lining up each ring with intense concentration, but each time, the ring either hit the bottleneck and bounced off or spun out of control entirely.

By now, a few onlookers had gathered, entertained by his serious attempts. You tried to stifle your laughter, but you couldn't help but crack a grin at the determined look on his face. Damian caught you watching and laughed, shaking his head. 

“This thing’s rigged,” he grumbled, picking up another ring. “But I’m not leaving without that bear.”

It took a few more tries, but finally, with one last, precise throw, the ring landed cleanly over the bottle neck. Damian’s mouth dropped open in momentary disbelief before his face broke into a proud grin. He raised his fist in victory, and the crowd of onlookers gave him a small cheer.

With a satisfied look, he turned to the attendant, who handed him the oversized bear. Damian held it up with a triumphant grin, and for a moment, you saw the thrill of his wrestling persona flash across his face. Then, he turned to you, holding the bear out with a proud smile.

“Here you go,” he said, his voice softer than before. “For you, from the master of ring toss himself.”

You took the bear from him, laughing as you hugged it to your chest. “Thank you, Damian.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anything to make a day at the fair memorable,” he said, his gaze lingering on you as you clutched the bear.

Somehow, in that little exchange, the day felt different—more charged, more real. You could both sense it, though neither of you dared to name it just yet.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the fairgrounds, Rhea gathered the group near the edge of the festival grounds with a mischievous grin. “Surprise! I booked us hot air balloon rides to finish off the day.” She beamed, holding up a handful of tickets. “Only four per balloon, so… here we go.”

In a practiced and subtle shuffle, Rhea partnered up with the others, quickly taking the balloon nearest her and flashing a wink your way as she climbed in. Within moments, the other three wrestlers joined her, laughing and getting settled, leaving you and Damian standing by the last balloon, alone.

Damian raised an eyebrow, half-smiling as he looked at you. “Guess it’s just us then?”

You felt your stomach twist as you took in the sight of the balloon’s basket waiting just for the two of you. Heights had never been your thing, and you could already feel a wave of nervousness inching its way in. 

“Yeah… just us,” you said with a weak smile, hoping he didn’t notice your hesitation.

As you climbed into the basket, Damian leaned over, catching the flicker of worry in your expression. “You good?” he asked, eyes softening as he stepped inside.

You nodded, though your voice betrayed you. “Fine, just… never been the biggest fan of heights.”

He chuckled softly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you grounded… well, as grounded as we can be in this thing.” 

As the balloon began to rise, you felt his arm slide around your shoulders, guiding you to lean into his chest, keeping you steady as the ground below slowly faded from view.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, the faint scent of his cologne settling your nerves. “Thanks. This definitely helps,” you murmured.

He chuckled, his voice a low rumble as he tried to distract you. “Want to know something? When I first got into WWE, I was all nerves. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to wrestle in front of thousands of people, live on TV, with my face everywhere.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Seriously? You always seem so… sure of yourself.”

“Fake it ’til you make it,” he said with a grin, tapping his chest. “It’s easier when you have good people around you.” He glanced down, and there was a look in his eyes that made your breath hitch. “People like you.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and as you lifted your head slightly, you could see a whole new world stretched out below, lit by the fading golden light of sunset. It felt surreal, hanging in this quiet pocket of the sky with him, where time seemed to stand still.

“You know,” Damian began, his voice gentle as he traced a thumb over your shoulder, “I, uh… I’ve liked you for a while. More than I probably should.”

You felt your cheeks warm as you looked up at him, heart pounding. “Yeah? I had no idea. But… maybe I’ve felt the same.”

His gaze flickered over your face, studying you as if trying to memorize every feature. “Then maybe I’m not crazy to think this is worth a shot?”

Before you could answer, he leaned down, brushing his lips over yours in a soft, tentative kiss, his hand cradling your face. You melted into him, any lingering nerves forgotten as you lost yourself in the moment. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile, feeling lighter than ever.

“So,” you whispered, still inches away, “guess Rhea’s little matchmaking scheme worked, huh?”

Damian chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll have to thank her later… but right now, I’m more than happy just to be here with you.”

[fresitasmoribund]

Roller King

-`♡´- pairing: James Potter x GN!Reader

-`♡´- summary: James works at a local roller rink as the “music guy,” controlling the playlist from his booth. You’re there almost every night he is, and – without fail – you always request the same song. James believes he should tease you about it tonight.

-`♡´- contains: james being a cheeky bitch, roller skating

-`♡´- warning: reader wears shorts (only mentioned briefly)

-`♡´- word count: 2.1k

The roller rink is alive with the energy of the weekend. The bassline of the current disco hit thumps through the speakers, shaking the very foundation of the glossy wooden floor. Neon signs in bubbly fonts advertise everything from tonight’s soda specials to skate rentals – their lights reflecting off the mirrored walls. The aroma of food fuses with the scent of sweat and smoke. A massive disco ball spins in the center, scattering splashes of light it catches onto the gliding skaters below. Some stumble awkwardly, clutching the railings as they try to find their footing. While others weave effortlessly through the crowd like they were born on wheels.

Up in his elevated DJ booth, James Potter leans back in his chair – legs propped on the counter as he surveys his domain. He wore his signature pair of aviator sunglasses - prescription, of course – the tinted lenses reflecting the flashing lights. One hand was perched lazily on the mixer, the other twirling the cord of the rink’s mic as though it were a lasso. Yes, James Potter thought he was hot stuff on these nights. His grin was as cocky as it was unbothered – like he was the king of the roller disco. In his mind, he might as well have been.

It wasn’t a bad gig, really. He got free food, he could give his mates all the discounts he wanted, and he was given the power to control the speakers. That was a power he loved to abuse.

All in all, he got to control the music, watch people embarrass themselves on skates, and—most importantly—catch glimpses of you. You, who skated by his booth at least once every session, your movements so smooth they bordered on hypnotic. James would never admit it to anyone, but you were the highlight of his nights here. And you always—always—requested the same song each time he had the privilege of being in your presence. And he found that incredibly endearing.

He catches sight of you now, weaving through the crowd like you own the place. It’s dizzying watching your feet—and your outfit stood out in the best way possible. You were wearing his favorite pair of denim shorts that you owned. Oh, he was in for a night. James can practically feel the wind you leave in your wake as you skate past his booth, glancing up at him with a raised brow and a pointed finger. He groans loudly, making a dramatic show of rolling his head back against his chair.

“No,” he mouths, apparent enough so that you can see. “Absolutely not. I refuse.”

You just sneer and skate backward a few feet, your hands thrown up in mock surrender—for now. You spin gracefully and disappear into the crowd again, leaving James beaming.

With a resigned sigh, he reaches for the turntable, already queuing up the familiar opening notes of Sylvester’s “You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real).” He isn’t going to play it just yet—not until he had his run first. For now, he wants to let the current track ride out, leaning forward to adjust the sliders on the mix. His mic cord twirls idly in his hand as his eyes dart back to the rink. He searches for you again in the sea of movement.

The song is almost over when he finally spots you. You were cutting across the floor beautifully, picking up speed. James’ smirk grows as he taps the mic against his chin, debating his next move.

The melody of the last song fades into a hum, and for a brief moment, the rink is filled only with the sound of wheels gliding over polished wood. Then James’ voice crackles over the speakers, smooth and a little too smug.

“This next one is dedicated to the skating superstar who’s requested it…” He clicks his tongue, making direct eye contact with you. “Oh, I don’t know, seventeen times this month?”

The opening synth fills the rink, but it is drowned out momentarily by the collective chorus of “ooohs” and laughter from the crowd. Heads turn in your direction as James’ words sink in. Your face burns hotter than the neon lights, and you have half a mind to strangle him. You stumble mid-stride, nearly colliding with another skater.

“Oh, for the love of…” you mutter under your breath, veering off the main rink and heading straight to the DJ booth.

James sees you coming at him like a gorgeous whirlwind on a mission. He turns in his chair, spreading his legs and sliding his glasses down slightly. He lived for your little tirades—he loved being the cause of them. The mic cord is still looped around his other hand as he watches you march up to the ramp leading up to him, your skates clicking sharply against the floor.

“Do you have to humiliate me in front of the entire rink, Potter?” you demand, crossing your arms as you reach the top.

“Humiliate?” he echoes with a chuckle, staring at you over the rim of his glasses. “I gave you a spotlight, babe.”

“Oh, is that what you call it?” you shoot back, glaring at him. “You’re lucky this song puts me in a good mood, or those ridiculous shades of yours would be flying their way to the snack bar.”

James’ grin doesn’t falter. If anything, it gets worse – to something more dazzling and charming. “I’m only just calling attention to your impressive streak.”

You groan, resisting the sudden urge to throw one of the nearest headphones at him. Instead, you jab a finger in his direction, your skates already pivoting to roll away. “Shut. Up.”

As you turn back toward the rink, James’ laughter follows you – bright and full of mischief. From his perch in the booth, he watches you glide back onto the floor, the music carrying you seamlessly into your routine. A routine he’s probably memorized fully by now. For a moment, he forgets about everything else—the crowd, the flashing lights. All he sees is you and that determined look on your lovely features.

The music pulses through the rink as you glide back into the crowd, the initial sting of embarrassment from James’ antics wearing off—mostly. The short moment of humiliation hadn’t been enough to ruin your night—though it never did. If anything, the adrenaline only fueled your skating, making your movements sharper and more precise. The rhythm of the music buzzes through your body.

Still, you can’t help but cast a side-eye at the booth every time you pass it. And, unfortunately for you, every time – James was ready.

“Smooth form, love,” his voice drawled over the tinny speaker system, rich with excessive charm. “I’d give it a 9, but you stumbled on that turn.”

Your wheels nearly faltered, but you steadied yourself, refusing to let him witness you rattled. Instead, you rolled closer, skating backward with effortless grace just to show off and throw him a pointed look.

The song shifts to something slower, with a funkier groove. The lights begin to dim, the multi-colored spotlights moving languidly across the floor. Skaters start to pair off, moving in unison to the beat. Others—like you—take advantage of the looser rhythm to glide freely.

You pass James again, and like clockwork, he is there and dramatically leaning into the mic.

“Don’t trip—I’m watching.”

The teasing lilt in his voice sends a delicious shiver down your spine. Your response is immediate, you raise your hand over your shoulder and flipped him off.

The sound of his laughter echoes fleetingly through the rink before he turns his mic off – but you swear you can still hear it. It seems to carry over the music and sounds of people, aiming straight toward you to ignite a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. It was always loud, genuine, and infuriatingly contagious. You can’t help but smile despite yourself, shaking your head as you turn back to focus on the rink.

James seemed to want to keep going all night. The sheer audacity that this man carried was enough to make you veer off-course, narrowly avoiding colliding with a couple found in an impressive synchronized spin. You mutter a quick apology, then directed another glare at him. James, of course, held no remorse for you. He was sitting back, reclining like he had nothing better to do than make your life miserable.

For the next few songs, he kept his commentary going, always waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Sometimes it was subtle – a low whistle or a murmured, “Careful, love,” just loud enough to make you look. Other times he would embrace the title of being a pest by goading you with what you assume he thought was a clever remark. Yet you refused to let him under your skin – tossing out your own quips, making gestures, or performing some impressive moves. Whatever he threw, you’d pick it up and throw it right back.

Eventually, you pull off to the side, your chest heaving from exertion. You use the half-wall for support, letting the coolness of the surface seep through your clothes as you take a long sip from your water bottle. From the corner of your eye, you can see James smiling ear to ear, waving at you with his fingers.

As you stand there, catching your breath, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Annoying as he is, James Potter had a way of making the rink—and the night—feel electric.

Even if he is an intolerable prat.

The familiar post-skate ache was already settling in, but you need a moment to cool off before heading home. Your water bottle was half-empty, condensation dripping onto your fingers as you sip. Around you, skaters flew by – laughing and chattering.

The scarcely audible creak of wood pulls your attention back to James’ direction. He hops down from his perch – landing with an unnecessary flair and swagger. As if jumping two feet was equivalent to jumping from a stage. He adjusts his aviators—which he still hasn’t bothered to take off and replace with his everyday ones—and makes his way toward you. With an unnecessary flourish, he hooks his sunglasses onto the collar of his faded band tee. His hair was an absolute mess, dark curls pointing out in odd angles. You sigh as he stops next to you on the other side of the half-wall.

“Big moment, Potter?” you ask dryly. “Finally need to see with both eyes?”

“Nah,” he says, taking a step closer and tilting his head just slightly. “Just wanted you to see how serious I am.”

“Serious?” You raise a brow, trying to ignore the way his presence seems to fill the small space between you. “You spent the last hour turning me into some kind of rink mascot. I think we passed serious about thirteen songs ago.”

James chuckles, a low, warm sound that somehow felt like it would always be meant just for you. “Can’t help it. You’re a crowd favorite.”

You roll your eyes but can't stop the tugging at the corner of your lips.

“C’mon, I know you’ve got some wicked moves.” He teases in a hushed tone. “I've even seen them in that same, old routine you do.”

You turn to face him fully, crossing your arms over the barrier.

“If you hate the song so much,” you begin, narrowing your eyes, “why do you keep playing it?”

“Maybe I like seeing you skate to it.” His crooked grin returns, and he shrugs.

The simplicity of the statement catches you off guard. You open your mouth to fire back a quickfire retort – but nothing comes. The warmth in his voice under the playful flirtation – the way he’s looking at you – has taken the fight right out of you.     

The world outside the two of you seems to blur. The lights, the chatter of the rink, even the booming tune of the current track – it all fades. James has a way of making everything else feel like background noise, and you hate how much you actually find yourself liking it.

“Alright, superstar,” he says finally, pushing off the wall with a smooth motion. “How about you give me one last performance before ABBA start to play on a loop and riots kick off?”

You snort, shaking your head as he turns to go. “Uh huh. Make sure my next request is ready.”

James pauses, throwing a glance over his shoulder to give you a sincere smile, instead of his usual arrogant smirk. It lingers just enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“You got it, love.”

[caramel-catss]

comma flirting

on ao3

word count: 4.4k

a collection of letters between link and ravio; ravioli falling in love

Mr. Hero,

I’m writing to inform you that your rental on the Sand Rod has expired. My assistant, Sheerow, has come to collect this item, and it will be available for re-rental at 50 rupees.

Best,

Ravio

Ravio,

I’m in the middle of assfuck Desert Palace and writing this on your envelope. Enclosed is a purple rupee. I have the rod.

Link

Mr. Hero,

Sheerow is coming again to pick up my Hookshot. Please don’t wrestle with him this time.

Best,

Ravio

P.S. Please visit the shop for purchases you make.

Ravio,

I’ll be there tomorrow.

Link

Mr. Hero,

Don’t worry when you open this letter - no rentals are due - though I’m sure you will anyway. I’ve been meaning to ask this since they’ve been in season for a while, but you haven’t been around recently. Is it alright if I harvest your apples while you’re out? You can trust me not to sell them, heh.

Thanks,

Ravio

Ravio,

Go for it, I won’t be home anytime soon. Juicer’s in the basement. Sell them and I’ll kick you out.

Link

Mr. Hero,

Since my retirement, I’ve been moving away my tables and letting the actual house part of your house take over. I’m excited for you to see the place! 

Your orchard produced beautiful apples, but there’s so many I’m not sure what to do with them. I’ve never seen so much fruit in my life! I’ve learned some baking recipes from the locals, so I’ve been trying a few of those. Let me know when you’re heading home soon so I can make pie!

Stay safe.

Ravio

Rav,

I’m fine; that gash from last month is just a scar now. I’m as safe as possible. I’m going home next week to pay you for that red potion even though you refuse.

Link

Link,

Don’t pay me back for that red potion. You were unconscious from blood loss.

Do come back home though, before Sheerow gets into the pie.

Ravio

Ravio,

I’m on my way right now. Note the purple rupee in this envelope.

Link

Mr. Hero,

You’re insufferable. I’ll see you soon.

Best,

Ravio

Ravio,

I’m writing this in case your stupid bird manages to find a portal before I do. Hylia knows he will. I miss your apple pie.

I hope Lorule’s doing okay. I hope your Triforce is actually back. It’s finicky. The Goddesses don’t like to fully honor wishes I wonder if you hold Courage.

I’m sorry. This is stupid. This is a stupid letter. You’re never getting this.

Link

I changed my mind I need to keep writing before I go insane

Zelda wants me to move into the castle. I don’t want to but every time I try to bring that up I feel like there’s sand in my throat. Like that one time at the Desert Palace. I still have that letter from you. I can’t believe I always wrote on the envelopes.

She’s officially queen now and says I should retire from being Hero and reveal my princehood to the public. Fuck, I never admitted that to anyone. It’s not like you’ll see this letter. Are you Hilda’s brother too? Nevermind.

I really, really hate the castle. Is that a selfish thing to think?

My uncle died there

I’m running out of parchment so I’m throwing this away. Goodnight, Ravio.

Ravio,

I guess you’ve become my diary now. Writing things out helps, I think.

Zelda and I fought today. I think I pissed her off. Who am I kidding. I pissed her off. I told her I’m already figurehead enough as the Hero and being a prince is too much shit for me to handle. She got real butthurt and almost sad? I don’t know. I’m bad at this shit. She kicked me out of the castle and said we could talk about it later. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.

I never actually told you about the brother thing, did I? We found out a while ago. My first adventure, I think. Been a while.

I know Lorule needs its Triforce but please don’t rely on it to solve everything because it doesn’t.

I need to get a notebook or something. Or just suck it up and buy more parchment in Kakariko. I’m harvesting more apples tomorrow because it helps me not to think. I miss your apple pie. I miss you. I miss not being alone in that house.

Maybe I’ll just write more letters. Oh well. Goodnight.

Link

Ravio,

Kakariko was out of parchment for a while so it’s been a month since I’ve written things down. Zelda and I worked out the prince thing, I guess, because we didn’t discuss it any more after that day. As it stands, I’m still the asshole who saved the country more than enough times.

I’ve been reading up on these legends about Heroes. I wonder how it was like for them.

Other than that it’s been boring. I decided to juice half the apples and sell the rest. You better show up soon so I don’t have to sell the next crop.

Zelda says there’s a disturbance by the Sacred Realm entrance. Almost like there’s a crack between worlds there. By the Goddesses, Ravio, what are you and Hilda doing? Just don’t be stupid and don’t get yourself killed.

Please.

Link

Link,

I can only imagine your embarrassment when this letter reaches you. The thought makes me giggle, which I know will make you more embarrassed, which makes me giggle more.

Sheerow flew through the crack as soon as Hilda and I opened it. He arrived back to me a few hours later with three envelopes that I don’t think you intended to send.

I miss making pie, and baking in general. Retirement didn’t last long after I returned home to my post serving Hilda. I hold Wisdom, not Courage, and the Triforce is doing wonders for Lorule. I’m sorry it hasn’t treated you well. You deserve better than that. I’m sorry about your uncle, too.

I’m proud you stood up for yourself. No, I’m not blood related to Hilda, as far as either of us know. But you’ve been living life fine without being a prince, you’ll continue to live fine without it. Just stay safe in your Hero business. And for the other Heroes, I don’t know. Lorule has no Heroes, other than you. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for them, though.

I’m sending Sheerow back with this letter before I officially leave Lorule with Hilda. We’ll both be in the castle. I’m sure Zelda has discovered the crack, but if you may, please tell her we’ll arriving with Lorulean soldiers and nobility. I’ll visit you as soon as possible. I miss you too.

Sincerely,

Ravio

Ravio, you bastard,

I will be at Hyrule Castle at the asscrack of dawn and if you aren’t there I will fight you.

Link

Dearest Link,

This letter hopefully won’t arrive to you via Sheerow as I’m leaving it in your pack. Inside is food, weapons, the rings you asked for, and other items that you needed. Thank Lolia your bag has an expansion charm, because even my amazing packing skills wouldn’t have cut it. For the love of the three, stay safe out there. It’s been months since you’ve last been on a journey.

As Lorule’s ambassador, I’ll be at the castle most days, but I’ll take care of the house and continue baking. Zelda has been teaching me recipes from the castle kitchens, and they’re quite lovely!

Also as Lorule’s ambassador, I request you send reports on the happenings in Hytopia so that we may bring sufficient aid. As Ravio, I need to know if you’re safe; you know how much I fret.

Please write.

Sincerely,

Ravio

Dear Ravio,

You’re the craziest worrywart I’ve met, and Queen Zelda is my sister. I’m happy to supply reports, both of Hytopia and my own health, but I promise you that I’m fine. This is either my sixth or seventh adventure. I genuinely lost count.

As the Hero of Legend, I report that Hytopia is suffering from a “fashion crisis”. The two others operating with me are sufficient in their help, and I am currently confident in our quest to save Princess Styla. I estimate six months, maximum, will be spent on this journey. I will reach out if foreign aid is needed.

As Link, I need you to know with utmost honesty that this place is fucking crazy. There are two bitches following me anywhere, and by the Goddesses are they amateurs, claiming to be the Hero of Legend. I’m so tired of them. The princess is crying and hiding around town because she’s wearing a fucking brown jumpsuit and she can’t take it off. I feel like I’m slowly losing my sanity as each day passes, but what else is new? 

The fights are fine and easy. I’ve had to wear a skirt for the past week for complicated reasons, but I’ve found that this shit is actually practical. Who would’ve thought?

Write me back so I don’t go insane.

Link

Dearest Link,

I cannot deny that I’ve had to read your letter multiple times over to get through it without laughing. You never fail to take any boredom from my day, even when all I do is talk to nobility and worm my way through politics. 

I’m not sure what to write about. I’ve tried apple turnovers for the first time, but they haven’t come out the best. I’m spending time with the castle’s baker and pastry chef whenever I can. I’m sure you’ll be happy once you’re home. Speaking of home, Sheerow’s starting to relieve himself in the house again. I don’t think he likes the bird cage, but I haven’t had time to fix this problem yet. Please give me your blessing to let him fly free again.

Stay sane,

Ravio

Dear Ravio,

Make that bird promise to stop shitting on my carpet and you have a deal. 

I’ve had to wear more green in the past month than I’ve ever had to in my life - they made me dye my hair, for Goddess sakes - and I’m ready to never see that color again. Can you burn down the forest for me so the grass is brown? Don’t do that, Zelda will have our heads.

Apple turnovers aren’t too hard, I’m sure you’ll get it soon. Send one over if Sheerow can fly fast enough.

I’ll be home before year’s end.

Link

Dearest Link,

You’ll be pleased to hear that the forest is gone and we’ve both been banished to the Dark World. 

I’m kidding. I’ve been discussing with Zelda on the prospect of me gaining Hyruleian citizenship, and Hilda says she requests you receive Loruleian citizenship as well, seeing as you’re our Hero. The process for both is very complicated and apparently the Queens can’t just write us down for both without backlash from nobility, enough that it won’t be worth it. I’ve been looking for the easiest ways, and including the benefits on tax, marriage ironically comes up. I’ll keep searching.

I got the turnover recipe down; Sheerow should be arriving with a package of them for you and your “hero” friends. Enjoy!

I’m glad you’ll be home soon, even though it’s only summer. Stay safe out there, as always.

Sincerely,

Ravio

Dear Ravio,

I don’t know Hyrulean law well but I think you can keep citizenship after divorce. I don’t know about you, but I personally don’t give a shit. We could marry for the benefits and if either of us sorry fucks finds someone, we divorce.

Link

P.S. Those were the best turnovers I’ve had in my life. Keep making them.

Dearest Link,

It’s a decade of marriage before citizenship becomes unconditional, so if you’re fine with that, I don’t mind either. I’m glad you liked the turnovers, I’ll send more once the orchard produces more apples. Also, how are you doing in Hytopia?

Sincerely,

Ravio

Dear Ravio,

I’ll be dead within the decade, so fuck it, let’s do it. I’m leaving a ring in the envelope. For my ego, please pretend like this is the best damn proposal you could have ever dreamed of. 

Hytopia is doing well and Princess Styla is back to normal. I’m avoiding the ports and taking the scenic way home, so I’ll be back in two weeks.

Link

Dearest Link,

Don’t joke about that, please. I’m glad you’re on your way. I’ll see you soon.

Your proposal has had me swooning and I spent three days in recovery at the castle. On a real note, Zelda and Hilda are both confused and slightly furious at us. I believe we simply found a unique situation to this problem.

Sincerely,

Ravio

Rav,

I’m at Kakariko this morning to pick up bread. I didn’t want to wake you up. I should be back by noon.

Link

Link -

Emergency call from the castle, some monster invasion. I’m sure you’ll hear about it soon.

- Ravio

My Ravio,

Killing the monsters you had a meeting about yesterday, then Zelda wants me at the castle for wedding stuff. I’ll see you tonight.

Link

I have a dinner tonight so I’ll be gone when you get off work. Pie is in the oven for you. “My”?

- Ravio

We’re getting married, aren’t we?

Link

Link and Ravio,

I wish you the sincerest congratulations on your marriage, though the circumstances of it are definitely exploiting a loophole that I’d have half a mind to fix. Regardless, may you both be blessed with peaceful and long lives. My brother, I am so proud of you for how far you’ve come. My brother-in-law, you are an amazing friend, and I’m excited to be family with you. 

Peace and prosperity for you both!

Sincerely,

Zelda

Ravio and Link,

I am amazed that this is happening, for multiple reasons. I suppose it is my fault for being surprised, however, knowing my advisor. Hero of Hyrule, I request you take care of Ravio; Ravio, I request you take care of Link. Perhaps your personalities are only compatible with each other after all.

Best wishes for you both,

Hilda

Link,

It’s been a week with no word from you, and I’m beginning to worry. I’m sending Sheerow off with this letter but I’m unsure if it’ll reach you, so if it does, I can only beg you to write back. These new monsters, the black-blooded ones, have been retreating some. Zelda is recruiting small forces of people to make them back off from towns, and it’s worked so far. We are all worried about you. Zelda and Hilda have been asking me where you are, and I don’t know how to explain that I don’t know.

I can only assume you’ve ended up in one of those portals they’ve emerged from. Your pack is missing, as well as some of your rings, armors, and gears. You left your extra pair of boots behind, I have them for you. I have your extra weapons, too. Please come back for them. Please come back.

I miss you. I hope you’re okay. Sheerow is pissing on the carpet again.

Yours,

Ravio

Dearest Ravio,

Time travel is fucking weird, so I have no idea when this’ll reach you. I’m fine. I’ve been pulled into another adventure, this time with my own kin. When the portals spit us out back home, I’ll sit down and have a long talk with you. We promised not to keep secrets from each other, remember? I trust you, but I have limited parchment so I can’t write it all down right now. 

In summary, though, I’m with other Links from around history. I met my fucking descendant. It’s crazy. They call me Legend; there’s 9 of us. I’m the veteran, apparently.

I’m sorry this is short. I hope I’ll be home soon. I miss you. Tell Sheerow to stop shitting himself, and while you’re at it, tell Zelda to stop shitting herself too. I’ll be okay.

Yours,

Link

My dearest Link,

I’m relieved you’re alright. Zelda laughed when I passed on your message, and she’s in a better mood now. Hilda also seems relieved. I’m awaiting your coming home soon. 

Your descendant? I expected those portals led to different dimensions, not across time. What is he like? I would consider you a veteran in your field, Link; you’ve saved more than 5 separate nations.

I made Sheerow promise not to piss on the carpet anymore, but I don’t think a bird will hold his word well, haha. 

We all miss you. If When you and your traveling companions come by, I’ll be here to welcome you all. I’ll see you soon.

Yours,

Ravio

Dearest Ravio,

Stop worrying about me, damnit. The Goddess will keep me around long enough to keep running errands for her. Sheerow, you stupid bird, it’s cage for you if you don’t shit outside. I’m glad Zelda and Hilda are okay.

We call him Hyrule, the Traveler. He’s some centuries down the line, the next Link, and I’ve been to his world. It makes me worry about the future. Rav, I’m really, really worried. I don’t think I’ve done enough 

Stay safe.

Yours,

Link

My Link,

You’ve done enough. More than enough. Never forget that.

If Hyrule falls, then at the very least, you defended it with all your life. You gave it precious time to be prosperous. You’re the Hero of Legend for a reason, Link.

Zelda wanted to include her own message on this letter when she heard that you’re distraught, so I’m leaving the rest of the space to her. Stay safe.

Yours,

Ravio

Link -

Hyrule’s history consists of both golden and dark ages. The Heroes of past all fought hard and performed their duty, and sometimes, the Kingdom falls regardless. However. Hyrule always rises again. I understand your worry for us, for Hyrule; but even when we fall in the future, a new Hero arises, right? Hyrule will be okay. You’ve done everything asked of you, and that is more than enough.

My doors are open if you need comfort or advice. Please, if you need to, seek me out. I’m here for you, like I’ve always been, always remember that.

Your sister,

Zelda

Dearest Ravio,

I’m sorry I worried you. I’ll be home soon. I’ll tell you everything then.

We’re in my Hyrule right now. I can tell from the magic, but we’re far out from the kingdom. Prepare ingredients for 9 - we have a cook, don’t worry - and expect me home within week’s end.

Yours,

Link

P.S. Zelda, we need to talk. There’s a curse. I’ll be at the castle promptly.

My dearest Link,

Please note the package attached to this letter. There’s two apple pies for you all, rupees for the Smith’s payment, and the Captain’s scarf which he couldn’t grab before you were all whisked away. Zelda has also left rings with protective charms for the others with none.

One more thing. The hibiscus plant is flowering, but I forgot to pick one for you earlier. I placed a stasis charm on it, so I hope it’ll be okay when it reaches you. I tried to pick the best color from your description; I hope I did her justice.

Best wishes for you all!

Yours,

Ravio

Dearest Ravio,

The hibiscus is perfect. Thank you.

The Captain thanks you for his scarf (he was whining like a toddler without it), and the Smithy sends you back your change. Pass on my thanks to Zelda for the rings. Your pies are delicious, as always.

Nothing much has happened lately, nothing worth writing about. We’re in the Champion’s Hyrule, and it’s so large that I feel grateful for the distance between our Kingdoms now. I never want to walk again.

Yours,

Link

My dearest Link,

I, once again, am entirely unsure if this will reach you. I’m writing from my bunk. It’s been an interesting past week.

I’ve been thrust through a portal of my own, thankfully able to prepare first. I met the Captain again; I can see why he recognized me now! I’m doing okay, and I’m fine and safe. I’ve run into Wind, too, and a boy who almost looks like Time. 

Link, I think I met her too. She matches everything you described, hibiscus and all. I don’t know how she’s here, either. She’s kind.

I’ll write as much as I can - it should be more exciting, now! - and I hope we’ll both be home safe soon.

Yours,

Ravio

My dearest Ravio,

Excuse me, you’re fighting in the fucking War of Eras!? Tell Warriors if he puts you on the front lines I’ll kill him. Slowly. By the Three, you better not get killed or hurt or ANYTHING along those lines. And you need to get home safe as soon as possible so the chance to is gone.

I don’t know what to say about her. I don’t know how she’s there, either, but be kind to her. And tell her I say hi, I guess, if she remembers me. Don’t let her go ba

Don’t open any time paradoxes, I know I’ll be the sorry fuck who saves you. Stay safe, damnit.

Yours,

Link

My dearest Link,

You never fail to make me laugh. And you call me a worrywart! I’m fine, don’t worry. Everyone is sweet and they take extra care to keep the ones from other times alive. Unfortunately, I think informing Mr. Captain Hero Sir of your threats would create a time paradox, as he doesn’t know you yet. Feel free to threaten him after-the-fact in your group, though!

Marin remembers you. She tells you to stop being a grump, and that’s only after my few descriptions of you! She also congratulated us on our marriage, though it’s been a year since. She appreciates the hibiscus plant and your pursuit of music when you’re home. She also says you should retire.

I understand why you care for her, Link. Really, you are a sweet person.

Yours,

Ravio

My dearest Ravio,

The Captain laughed in my face, because he’s an asshole. I would bet on my life that he’ll keep you safe, though; he’s captain for a reason. And maybe I do worry too much, but I have good reason to.

I’m glad she’s alive. This is selfish, but ask her if Koholint is doing okay, please. Tell her I’ll retire when the ladies upstairs let me.

I don’t know how to reply to your last line, Rav. But thank you, I guess. It’s hard to be kind in this world.

Yours,

Link

My dearest, Link,

I’m sorry I haven’t been able to write for a while. Sheerow went missing, and with no time traveling postbird, I haven’t been able to send letters. The war has also kept me busy and the paper has been scarce. I miss you so, so much.

I’m home. I don’t know how long it’s been for you, but it was around a year and a half for me. Sheerow is safe; he’s been at home this whole time. I’ll be waiting for you here again.

I like to think I discovered a bit of courage for myself while out there. Maybe the amount you rubbed off on me finally paid off, yeah? I’m really tired, I’m going to stay here for a while and rest. This is all over the place. I’m sorry.

Marin went back to Koholint. I don’t know if she’s alive there, but I’d like to hope she is. I’m sorry you two didn’t get to meet again. I’m apologizing a lot.

Have you been around? Our house looks the same as ever. I hope you did get to visit, at least for a little, in the time I’ve been gone.

I pray for your safety. I miss you, Link.

Yours,

Ravio

My dearest, Ravio,

I can’t put my relief into words. I’m still out, but nearing the end of this adventure. I can feel it coming to a close soon, and this one feels final. Maybe I’ll actually be able to retire.

I’ve missed you so much. I thought you were dead, or hurt, or Sheerow was dead or hurt, and I swear I couldn’t sleep for months. I’ll never let that damn bird out of our sights again. Please rest, Rav. I understand how you’re feeling right now. I’ll be home to help as soon as I can - you can’t recover from something like that alone.

Marin being alive or dead is more of a discussion if she is real or not real. I find that thinking over those kind of questions too much will only lead to feeling worse. It’s better to just accept that she’s gone. I’ll be there for you.

I’ve visited some, not as much as I wish I could. There’s never much time to relax, and our house feels wrong without you there.

Never apologize again, that’s a threat. I’m so glad you’re okay.

Yours,

Link

P.S. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you flirting with me? “My dearest, Link,”?

My dearest, Link,

Thank you. I’m harvesting apples from the orchard again, and I made pie for the first time in a while. Sheerow is carrying it over for you. 

It’s been hard, this past week, but I think I’ll be okay. I just need time to re-adjust. Don’t rush your adventure for me, okay? I’m glad you’ll be home soon, though.

I’m looking forward to see you again.

Yours,

Ravio

P.S. I can’t help but notice that you also placed a comma after “dearest”. Besides, aren’t we married?

My dearest, Ravio,

The portals have begun to place us in our own times, and we’re having our final goodbyes. You’ll be happy to hear that I’ll be home within a fortnight. I’m excited to see you again, finally. I love your pie; it’s amazing, as always.

I’ll see you soon.

Yours,

Link

P.S. We are married, and we’ve signed off as “yours” for over a year. Are you surprised that you’re my beloved?

My dearest, Link,

Hurry up and get home, you flirt. First you propose over letters, now you confess?

Yours,

Ravio

My Ravio,

I’m in Hyrule, three days out from home. Don’t you forget that you initiated everything. 

I can’t wait to see your face again. I love you.

Your husband,

Link

My Link,

I won’t bother to send you this letter, because I’ll tell you in person, but you can go ahead and find it on our counter when you arrive tomorrow.

You said “my Ravio” again, like you wrote on a note before our marriage. Don’t think you’re not as much to blame for this as I am.

I’m waiting for you, dear. I love you, too.

Your husband,

Ravio

[preet-01]

I've been in a bit of a dosh mood recently so here's another quick dosh fic with some Christmas tree shopping

After the Enchante ad for the pop-up bus is filmed and set to be released – a feat that they had been able to do within just a day, or rather a few hours – Daniel is quick to get on another plan and head somewhere colder than New York City. 

Normally, Daniel would do his best to avoid going cold places. He’d actively run from them and try to get out of commitments that would take him towards them, but these days, he finds himself seeking out the cold. Not for the winter weather or anything like that, but for the warmth it gives him in the shape of an NFL quarterback laying atop him in bed or cuddling him on the sofa. 

Most of his friends think he’s foolish for trading the likes of Monaco and Los Angeles for Buffalo, but none of them get to see how Josh lights up every time Daniel tells him that he’ll be in New York and is thinking of heading further north. None of them get to be carried by Josh and kept warm. He hates the cold, but Daniel is coming to quickly learn that he loves Josh much more than he could ever hate the weather. What are low temperatures in comparison to a lover’s embrace? 

Within three hours of finishing all the work for the ad, Daniel is on Josh’s doorstep. His rental is parked next to Josh’s truck, filled with minimal luggage that could be brought in later. For now, his only concern is getting into the warm home, as such, he finally has use of the key Josh had pressed into his hands just a few months earlier. Normally, Josh was always by Daniel’s side, never giving him reason to use the key that Daniel had carried from country to country with him since he’d gotten it. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Daniel calls out, always wanting to yell that out when he comes home. 

“Daniel?” Josh questions, rushing to the entryway from wherever in the house he had been. Daniel presumes that Josh has just returned from practice given he’s wearing the team shirts. “What? How?” 

“We finished filming and editing today,” Daniel replies, “thought we could do that Christmas decorating before you had to leave.” 

They’d only talked about it in what-ifs and maybes, unsure if their schedules would allow it. But now, Daniel had free reign of his schedule and no expectations of him spending the few weeks between Abu Dhabi and Christmas in Europe. 

“Yeah?” Josh asks, lighting up just as he always did when they were together and one of their plans would work out. 

“Yeah,” Daniel agrees. He could stand the cold Buffalo nights for that face. 

_____________

“We could come during a warmer day,” Josh says, as he lays in bed watching Daniel put on his third layer of clothing – all before the big winter coat was to be put on. 

“Does Buffalo have warmer days?” Daniel questions knowing that the answer is no. Blake, Max, and Scotty had all warned him about just how cold Buffalo could get when Josh first started coming around and then again when everyone noticed that Josh wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon if he had a say in it. And for good measure, a third time when Daniel happily told them about the key Josh had given him. 

“Not really,” Josh replies. 

Every year, Josh gets his tree from the same local Christmas tree farm. It’s a bit of a drive, but according to Josh, it is completely worth it. 

The previous week’s snow hadn’t completely melted yet, causing it to glisten underneath the string lights the farm’s owners had put up and the moonlight. “How big are we thinking?” Daniel questions. A few people are milling around, but none of them pay much attention to Josh and Daniel. 

“9 feet?” Josh suggested, wrapping his arm around Daniel, who despite multiple warm layers was still shivering in the cold night air. Smiling up at Josh, Daniel nods. Josh’s house had more than enough space for a large tree and Daniel had an idea of how they could get the ornaments, lights, and the star on. It involved him climbing Josh, something that he liked doing a lot and often. 

Under twinkling lights and cold winds, they make their way through the farm – judging each tree as they go. They were good trees, great even, but none of them were perfect. Daniel wanted a perfect tree. It was to be the first of hopefully many Christmas trees they would be buying, so it had to be perfect – there were standards to be set. 

“Mistletoe,” Josh notes when they get closer to the end of the tree selection. Glancing up, Daniel sees that there’s mistletoe hanging. Wrapping his arms around Josh’s neck, he pulls the taller man down just slightly to kiss him. 

That’s when Daniel spots the perfect tree. 

It’s tall and wide because the circumference also matters when choosing a good tree. And unlike some of the earlier trees that they’d seen, it’s got a ton of branches and needles, making it look very full. It’s a balsam fir that’s at least three feet taller than Josh. “That one,” Daniel says. 

“It’s perfect,” Josh agrees, calling over one of the workers to prepare it for travel. “Our first tree together,” Josh says as Daniel leans in for another kiss. 

[buckets-and-trees]

Game: match the character with the trope & give a little explanation why you paired them/how you would go about writing that type of fic 🩷

Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Ransom Drysdale, Ari Levinson & Nick Fowler

Forced proximity, forbidden love, fake dating, hidden identity & arranged marriage

Okay, this was fun, Em! And at least this time I didn't get TOO carried away...

ARI LEVINSON - FORCED PROXIMITY - I don't know... maybe this 2500-imagine-ish pitch that spilled out of my fingers this weekend? Hahaha

BUCKY BARNES - HIDDEN IDENTITY - I think this could happen over many different period of Bucky's life, but I'm especially interested in Bucky on the run after Winter Soldier and before Civil War. I love reading fics that take place during this time, and I've got a fic that I started and need to go back to (and maybe rewrite so I can complete it) that would be him hiding for short periods of time in cabins/rentals/vacation homes as he makes his way out of the DC Metro area those first months after CA:WS and while he's crashed at one particular place, Reader shows up, and they spend a few days or maybe a week together before moving on to the next place (and the next and the next until he eventually ends up in Romania).

RANSOM DRYSDALE - FAKE DATING - When a petition citing some extenuating circumstances/technicalities/the manner in which his confession was coerced/etc, a judge is willing to review it due to Ransom's good behavior (read: MONEY) while he's been serving time, and he gets him out of jail. You are immediately hired to be his Cinderella-image of a girlfriend so he can become the public's wronged and misunderstood Prince Charming because Linda won't have any more bad press - it's affecting all of the family businesses. Why are you willing to take the deal? You came up in an initial pool of suitable eligible females in the local area and it just so happens that one of the editor's at Harlan's publishing house (still overseen by Walt) has been considering one of your novels for publication, and this presents an opportunity for them to sweeten a proposal for this PR relationship by offering you a six-novel publishing deal as long as you maintain the relationship with Ransom for at least 18 months.

NICK FOWLER - FORBIDDEN LOVE - You're a detective working for Interpol. You know the trouble he's caused. Even though he was able to cover up his deeds initially with the CIA, once the Chinese/MSS took him into custody, it all came out. But he's managed to escape. He's managed to find his way to Romania, which is where you just so happen to be stationed now. You worked a case closely with him six years ago in Portugal, and...though you both kept it professional, his charm was undeniable. He had no idea you were in Romania, but he's not mad about that in the slightest now that he's spotted you. He could have some fun with this. Are you ready to play with fire?

STEVE ROGERS - ARRANGED MARRIAGE - In a Steve Stays scenario, if he's going to refuse to be Cap, he's being lobbied to still use his influence and power to help bring some order to this post-Blip society. He went tried to retreat and fade into the background, but things are escalating, and Pepper - who had also tried to stay in the background - is concerned that there are things happening maybe because of their inaction. She's got an idea. She wants to get Steve into political office, and she's going to appeal to his sense of duty (which she can do because it's the guilt she's also feeling). He'll agree because he trusts her judgement. For the best image, he's going to need a wife - this is a harder sell, but - again - he trusts Pepper Potts, he doesn't even need to vet the candidates, because if he's all in on this idea, he'll be all in, and he knows Pepper will pick someone who will fit the bill as his suitable trophy wife. You.

would... well would anyone be interested in any of these if I thought about actually writing them?

[followthebluebell]

I’m a college student interested in adopting a cat, however I’m concerned that owning a cat would make relocating for work opportunities like internships difficult and unnecessarily stressful on the cat. Would a better compromise be to foster with local rescues in the area? I’d be interested in fostering for older animals and not necessarily kittens.

Moving IS inherently stressful for cats too, but it's manageable. Most cats are upset for a few days and then decide that it's actually ok after all.

The real problem is finding affordable pet-friendly rentals. And if you move a LOT, you'll need like a constant supply of those. The number one reason people surrender their cats to my rescue is not having access to affordable pet-friendly housing. With this in mind, I strongly recommend you wait to adopt until you've got a very stable income and housing sorted out.

While I'm a big fan of fostering, it may not be the best thing either. Here's the thing about fostering: when you foster, you're agreeing to take care of that animal for an unknown amount of time. It's actually easier with kittens, because they typically get adopted very quickly once they hit 8-10 weeks old. You basically know that you'll only have these kittens for a set amount of time.

With an older cat, they may be with you for a while. While the rescue is obligated to take them back if you can no longer foster them, the rescue might not have space immediately. If you're on a moving schedule, this might not be ideal for you. Again, it really depends on how stable your current living situation is---- are you going to stay in the same place for a few months, a year, more? What are your long-term plans?

I don't want to discourage you from fostering, but I do think you ought to talk to the local rescues to see if they've got plans in place for 'hey, I suddenly need to move to pursue a job opportunity and can no longer foster this cat' situations.

[hvcmixtape]

love's all fair when you're checking the decisions between you and seungkwan on the basketball court on the island of jeju

pairing: seungkwan x reader themes: vacation!(Y/N), resort worker!seungkwan, jeju!seungkwan, there's no mention of caffeine but assume seungkwan still has his caffeine addiction 🤣 wc: ~2600 genre: fluff note: first fic released in a long while! hope you enjoy this AU :>

“I know you say you’re trying, but are you really?” Seungkwan teases you with a fiery tongue. He looks down at you as if the whole world is in his hand, the corner of his lips digging deep into his smirk. With the basketball cradled in his palm, you shoot daggers into his eyes. Who does he think he is, Troy Bolton?

You're the only two on the court at this late hour, but it's only because of the consequences of your own actions, all of which started just earlier that day.

It's your yearly vacation with your family and they decided, why not go to a resort where the destination is the journey itself?

As soon as you heard that come from your mom's mouth, you weren't sure what to make of the next week you'd be spending in Jeju, a place you'd been to a few times before. You've already visited the major attractions on the island, like hiking the Hallasan volcano, so what are a few more hikes? But realistically, who are you to deny your parents, the ones paying for the vacation in the first place?

Packing was difficult as you've thrown random clothing that you'll hope will make cute outfits when you're on the beachy island, and as soon as you know it, you're on the flight to Jeju, then in the shuttle to the resort, and then your ass is kissing the seat to a poolside view.

September is one of the best times to visit Jeju—the rainy season is starting to die down, but it's still bright and warm outside when there aren't any clouds. There aren't as many tourists at this time, but you've soon figured out that this is the time for locals to make the trip to Jeju so it's almost as crowded as you figured it would be. You suppose it's just another testament to how amazing Korea's geography can be.

As you sip on your drink, your mom beside you flips through one of the many brochures they handed her at check-in.

"Me and dad want to do a cooking class," she says after reading the description. "They'll teach us how to make paella; it's a Spanish rice dish."

"That sounds really yummy," you mindlessly reply, but as soon as you say that, she places one on your torso. "You want me to find things to do too?"

"Why not? Weren't you complaining and asking why we were coming back to Jeju? That's why I chose this place," your mom roughly says. "You don't have to do everything, but at least do something other than staying by the pool all day."

"I guess," you grumble, finally opening the pamphlet. There are a lot of things to try out: surfing and scuba diving caught your eye, but you weren't sure how you'd fare with those very physical activities. When you flip to the other side of the paper, your eyes are drawn to the left side. "Mom, they have an activity center for people my age—"

"Try it out! It'll be fun. Maybe you can go there after lunch and see what things they have planned for the day."

Lunch comes and goes and you have no choice but to venture off on your own, as your parents decided they want to do a wine tasting in the downtown area, taking the rental car with them.

Your first step is to approach the reception area, where you find a young man, probably around your age, manning the desk.

"Hi, good afternoon, how can I help you?" His full cheeks give him a boyish look, and his messy hair just adds to his appearance. He's wearing the same linen shirt the other staff you've seen wear, but on him, it looks just a little bit better.

"I was wondering if you have any information on the young adult activity center here. I saw it in one of the brochures."

A smile beams on his face. "You've come to the right place. I'm the worker in charge of the young adult activity center. I'm Seungkwan."

He puts out a hand for you to shake, and you accept it right away. "My name is (Y/N), it's nice to meet you," you reply back. "When are there usually activities during the day? I'm staying at the resort until the end of the week."

"Usually every few hours is a light activity and sometimes, we do excursions. Let me check to see what we have for today."

As Seungkwan pulls up the schedule on his computer, you say, "You seem a little young to be working at a resort full-time?"

He chuckles, pulling his focus toward you. "This is actually my aunt's resort. I'm working with her until I manage to figure out what I want to do. But I am 21, so I'm not totally young."

"Oh, I'm only a little bit older than you. I'm just turned 22," you reply. "But this seems like a fun job."

"Yeah, I like it most of the time. I'm sort of thinking of going into the entertainment industry, so I'd say this is good practice." Seungkwan shrugs. "So, for today's schedule, we're planning on hiking around the Cheonjeyeon waterfalls. We'll meet at 3:30 so we can make it for the sunset and head back right after that."

"Sounds good. Where's the meeting spot?"

"It'll be right here at the reception desk. We usually have 5 to 10 people come around, especially for the hikes. And since we're at the end of summer and the beginning of autumn, not as many young adults are here." There's something in that sentence that makes you raise an eyebrow but you don't think further of it.

"I'll see you at 3:30 then," you smile. "See you later, Seungkwan."

You find him later on with a pair of sunglasses perched at the top of his head, waving around a tiny green flag. You can't help but laugh at how cutely he spins the flag in circles as he raises his hand high above his head.

"Hi Seungkwan," you say as you approach the group of 7 people so far. Most seem around your age but some have younger faces.

"Hi, (Y/N). You look ready to hike," he smiles and leans in toward your ear, making you feel some type of way when his breath tickles your ear when he speaks. "Some people seem like they've been forced to come by their parents."

You chuckle at his hushed tone and take a good look around you, where everyone is wearing completely different styles that might not be the best for hiking to a waterfall. One guy is wearing an all-white outfit, and you know that can't be good news for a hike.

"I suppose you get this often then?" You ask, as you turn away from him and you rummage through your backpack to find the sunscreen that you'll definitely need with the sun's rays still beating down at this time.

Seungkwan's eyes are stuck on your hands as they glide the sunscreen along your arms and shoulders, not even able to answer your question. He bites his lip as he can see you try to reach the exposed parts of your back with your fingers that just can't find a way there, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"Can," you look back at him with a pleading smile. "Can you put sunscreen on the parts I can't get?"

He doesn't have much of a choice and he accepts the bottle with a flushed face. "Sure," he says, squeezing the product onto his hand and watching the cream soak into your skin. He's embarrassed to admit that he knows the spots on your back that didn't get covered.

"Thanks!" You beam with a bright smile as you turn toward him, not knowing that he'll be thinking about that moment for a long while.

"Bye, Seoyeong, it was nice meeting you!" You wave to a girl who leaves almost as soon as the group returns to the lobby. She doesn't say much back, but you hope you'll get to see her again in the next few days that you're still here.

As people start to break ways, you're reluctant to leave. "Do people usually leave right away, or do they hang around?" You ask Seungkwan. He says he's still on the clock, whether he's with the young adults' group or he returns to manning the front desk, so it doesn't matter much to him how he spends the last part of his day.

"Most leave right away, but you're more than welcome to hang around if you want." Seungkwan smiles and it's the first time you've felt like you want to absolutely squish his cheeks.

You fold your fingers tight, not letting them leave your side. "You don't mind?"

"Of course not. We can get to know each other better, and," he glances down at his watch. "I get off of work in 45 minutes and that was a pretty hefty hike, so we can grab food if you want? I can take you somewhere outside of the resort."

...Is this a date?

After letting your mother know that you're off to eat dinner with one of the people you've met at the hike, you click your seatbelt buckle and are ready to go wherever he leads you. Never mind the fact that you've known him for half the day—you are usually more aware than this—but you just feel good about Seungkwan. Something feels right about him.

"Do you like hamburgers?" Seungkwan asks as he adjusts the mirrors of his car. You can feel your heart pattering against your chest from such a domestic action.

"Yeah. I get them often with my friends after classes." You go deeper into conversation about your academic aspirations when he wonders what courses you're taking, and it's nice, to say the least. You enjoy getting to know someone better and it definitely doesn't hurt that you find him attractive. Maybe he's just being nice and maybe he's done this with other people who have been to the resort and met up with him, but you're only here for a few days anyway. If things don't work out, it's fine.

Seungkwan's a smooth driver as you glaze over his appearance: his brown hair floating up and down when the wind blows through it, the wire glasses that perch on his nose, and a smile that comes about often when he's speaking. He doesn't let the conversation drop, making sure he's nodding his head in acknowledgment while also keeping his eyes on the road.

As he approaches the parking lot of the restaurant, you mention that parking is so difficult.

"No, it's pretty easy," Seungkwan shakes his head. He removes his hand from the wheel and places it on the back of your seat as he reverses the car into the space.

"Easy for you to say," you mutter, trying to look in the side mirror if your face can get any redder.

After you head into the restaurant and order your food, you look out the window and even a simple hamburger place has the best views. "I wouldn't see the ocean while eating a burger like this in Seoul."

"Just another great thing about Jeju," Seungkwan says as he digs into his burger. "This is my favorite burger place, I go here pretty often whenever I finish a shift."

"I like your shirt, by the way. It looks good on you," you blurt out and you can't help but take a huge bite of your burger so you can shut up.

Seungkwan sets down his burger and covers his laugh with a napkin. "Thanks," he replies after he settles down. It's a simple outfit—just a blue button-up with a white inner shirt, but it's the rolled-up sleeves that do it for you.

You move on from that topic as soon as you can.

"Thanks for taking me there, Seungkwan," You grin as you walk out potbellied after the meal. "And thank you for paying for me too, you didn't have to."

"Just wanted to show you around is all, so it's my pleasure."

You're not quite sure what he means of it, but he brings you to a walkway that leads down to the coast. "This is a nice place to walk along," you say as your shoes crush the sand below you.

"Yeah, I usually like to exercise after my meals, especially with burgers," he laughs at himself.

The two of you walk in silence for a little bit, taking in the sights and sounds of Jeju, a place Seungkwan has known forever and a place you're just here to touch on for a few days.

"Hey," Seungkwan pipes up. "Do you like basketball?"

“You suck, Kwan,” you say, as you jump, jump, jump. Your arm stretches out as far as you can, fingertips grazing his forearm each time your feet leave the ground. “What happened to playing a fair game?”

You're surprised that you get the court all to yourselves. Seungkwan said that the courts close for guests around 9 at night, but since it's his aunt's resort, a key can solve all of his problems. The floodlights are still on, illuminating the green and white basketball court you stand on.

“This is fair!” He can’t help but to laugh. “You just can’t reach me because you’re short.” His eyes crinkle at the outer points, still keeping enough focus to maintain the ball in his possession. Damn you, Seungkwan.

Maybe it’s the heat, or maybe it’s all of the mixed signals he’s been giving you but ah, to hell with it. It’s time for you to get on the offense and make a move.

With a deep breath in and out, you wrap your arms around his waist, looking up at him with the softest eyes you could muster.

As soon as he feels contact on his body, only a layer of clothing between your fingers and his midriff, his face burns. And you have never seen Seungkwan flustered to a point that the ball falls from his hand immediately and bounces multiple times on the court.

His feet are frozen and his eyes land on you, even as you run after the ball and sink a shot that’s not the cleanest, but still swishes through the net. 

Grabbing the ball, you saunter up as cool as you can, and hold the ball on your hip as you stand face-to-face. “Maybe that wasn’t fair, but I was trying at least.”

Your smart comment goes right over his head, as he’s still trying to process what the hell just happened.

"(Y/N)," he can only manage to utter, looking around to see if anyone saw what he just experienced. His eyes are wider than the full moon in the sky and he blinks a few times to shake off his surprise. "Yeah, I guess that would be trying." He puffs his cheeks and purses his lips, not knowing what else to say.

"I think you're cool Seungkwan."

"You do?"

"But I mean, do you do this with all the girls you meet when they come here for vacation?"

You have time to run away if need be, but you find yourself taking one, two, three steps closer to him.

"No," he replies, his voice softer than ever before. "Only you."

[gskproperties]

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[ironwhumper359]

Torn from the Sea - Ch.2

Masterlist || Previous | Next

Content: lab whump, scientist whumper, mermaid whump, mermaid whumpees, capture, implied restraints

Word count: 913

Taglist: @blackrosesandwhump

Author's Notes at the end!

— — —

Excerpt from Dr. Baltan’s Research Log

Day 15

Everything is in place. I’ve loaded the back of my rental van with the modified gurneys I had designed specially for this project. It’s a bit of a tight fit, but their time spent in the van will be short; I intend to move the creatures onto the ship as soon as possible.

I toyed with the idea of studying them here, but my private lab back on the mainland far outclasses the research center I have access to on this island. I have instructed my assistant Layla to prepare for the arrival of two specimens, and so far she is the only person besides myself who knows the true nature of my research. I did think about soliciting the assistance of some of the locals for the capture and transport of the specimens, but I have decided against it. The fewer individuals who know of these creatures' existence, the better.

Besides, the locals have already helped me plenty. Their practice of leaving offerings near the cove has provided me the perfect opportunity to make my move. This morning a villager left a basket of mangoes in the forest, and I have laced the fruit with tranquilizer. I have made my best estimate as to the proper dosage, though without intricate knowledge of their metabolisms, there is no real way of knowing how they will react to the drugs. I can only hope they are effective long enough for me to neutralize the specimens and get them into the van.

If previous patterns of behavior hold, then the male will find the food, eat a small amount of it himself, and then bring the majority of it to his mate. Hopefully, the tranquilizer will act slowly enough for the male to share the food with the female before succumbing to its effects. If it affects him immediately, then I will have to collect him on his own and devise another way of trapping the female. I of course would like to study them both, but if I could only take one, I would choose the female every time. The opportunities that having a captive-born specimen would provide are simply too great to pass up. However, I worry about attempting to capture the female without neutralizing the male first. It’s possible that he will grow aggressive in an attempt to protect his mate and young, and as I am operating solo, that is a situation I’d rather avoid. I have considered all the possibilities, and have determined that this is the best course of action, regardless of the risk. All I have to do now is sit back and wait to see whether my labor shall bear fruit.

.

Day 16

I can scarcely believe it, but I have been successful! I, Dr. Eric Balton, am in possession of not one, but TWO live and healthy mer specimens. I am the first scientist in recorded memory to have any direct contact with a mer, not to mention the first to have a living shifter in a laboratory environment. My research has barely begun, and I have already cemented my place in history! But I mustn't get ahead of myself.

The tranquilizer worked perfectly, and once both mer were unconscious it was easy enough to strap them down onto the gurneys and load those in the van. As far as port authorities are concerned, I am transporting injured dolphins, and I was able to secure privacy while loading them onboard the ship in the name of protecting their health and safety. As far as I’m aware, no one saw that the “dolphins” are actually two of the most valuable live specimens ever collected.

I have taken readings and samples of the water from the cove and sent Layla the data so that she may prepare the research tanks in my lab. While their usual habitat is unknown, they chose these waters to make their nest and have their young in, and I intend to replicate those conditions for them exactly.

As for their transport, I have opted to use the dry method. If they truly were dolphins or some other similar aquatic mammal, I would be concerned for their safety being out of water for such a length of time, but as they have demonstrated ample ability to not only breath air but literally walk on land with legs, I have good reason to believe that dry transport, even over a few weeks, will be quite safe.

Dry transport will also allow me to leave them strapped down on the gurneys. If placed unrestrained in a tank of water, they may be able to use their unique dexterity to attempt escape of some kind, which could result in injury. Better to keep them immobile until they arrive at their permanent home. This will also allow me to better monitor the female’s gestation while we are in transit. Judging by human standards, she doesn’t look far enough along to give birth during the actual voyage, though of course I must be prepared in case she does.

I cannot allow my preconceived ideas about what is normal for humans to cloud my judgment on this project. I must treat these specimens as completely undiscovered animals, and make hypotheses based solely on the data I collect. Now that we are underway, I can begin my preliminary examinations of the creatures undisturbed. I can hardly believe that this moment has finally come!

— — —

Author's Notes: So I do just wanna say that not every chapter of this will be research logs! The next chapter will be from our mers' point of views (I have some character designs for them here if you wanna see) and I plan for this story to use a mix of both the mers' actual point of view and Dr. Baltan's research notes to show both perspectives on the events of the plot. Next chapter we meet Meri and Kae, so get ready for that! Thanks for reading <3

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[naturalswimmingspirit]

roz.j.johnson

Best parts of a spur-of-the-moment trip to Maui, Hawai’i👇 . 🏝️ Finding hidden gems just off the beaten path. @nickdonmoyer and I are both into using gaiamaps to find hidden gems 💎 with fewer folks. These ones did not disappoint, especially the dip in crystal clear waters 🏊‍♀️. . 🏄‍♀️ Never being short on adventure. From hidden waterfalls to surfing to hiking and snorkeling we didn’t sit still for long! We did manage to sneak in some surfing but next time I’d like to do more. Rentals are cheap and the water is so 👌. . 🏠 Randomly finding the best places to stay!!@haleakula was an awesome little farm and retreat with the best wholesome vibe 🐓 🌴 . The @howzithostel was clean and comfy and be fantastic if solo travelling. Plus they have a mango tree out back that’s bountiful 🥭 . . 🥑 Indulging in the local fare. We picked up so many beautiful fruits at roadside farm stands, fresh local fish at the market and coconuts galore. Because we had kitchens where we were staying, we cooked for ourselves, saved money and ate local. . 🔥 Although the devastation in Lahaina is evident from the wildfire earlier this year, the recovery seems to be on track for post-catastrophic fire. From our experience, the island community is more than happy to continue to welcome tourism though housing of those displaced seems to be the biggest issue. An issue that seems to have a solution right next door in all the massive resorts but evidently is not what’s going on. Lahaina has a long way to go to rebuild, as do many communities devastated by wildfire and my heart goes out to them. . 💦 Even though November is thier slow season with cooler temps and rain, it only added to the experience. Our first few days were windy and showery but Maui is currently in extreme to moderate drought conditions so the rain was a welcomed sight. . I never thought I would be someone to head to such an international destination and love it so thoroughly but I have to admit, Hawai’i is incredible. If you are feeling you need a reset before winter, DO IT 🧳 You won’t regret it.

[cemeteryreviews]

Cemetery Reviews #9 - Cementerio Parroquial de Bosa

I mentioned how in Bogotá the north is wealthier while the south is poorer, something you can somewhat see in the Cemetery of the South, well, Bosa is even further to the south, and Bosa, being further south, reflects a modest and tightly knit community.

There are lots of businesses and small stands around the cemetery, there is even a small field for micro soccer at the side in the same block, the streets are small and usually just one way only, you can see people are doing the best with the small space they have. There are some houses at the side in the same block as well and I saw the windows of an apartment probably no more than a few meters away of the tombs, sleeping with tombs so close to you... it must be give a bit of a solemn feeling. I also thought I wouldn't be able to find a place where to eat, I didn't see any big malls anywhere and it seems most places here might take cash only and I don't usually carry cash with me, it just ends up in me wasting money a lot faster. Thankfully there was a KFC at the end of the street, yeah it looked a bit out of place having an international restaurant with the rest of local businesses, but oh well, it worked for me and that's where I had lunch.

So well, this is a cemetery of cement. You know, it mostly is cement, the collections of mausoleums and that's it, I know that I usually rate, the more green areas it has, the higher the score, but its still not a fair way to rate cemeteries if the people who handle them just don't have the space to add more green spaces, you know what I mean? I rated the Usaquen Cemetery poorly because it didn't have any green but it seemed to have a green area that could have extend to, so it gives the impression of less care, though this could be simply due to practical constraints. Not because a cemetery is fully on cement it means that is poorly taken care of, like this one. Besides, it's not like I take the ratings actually seriously, it's just a bit of copium sass for the losses really, we aren't running any contests here at the end of the day.

There are some nice mausoleums here and there, it is mostly just columbariums but everything is properly taken care of, I read some reviews on Google that it had been abandoned and even there was waste of street people around, but when I went it was in a good state thankfully. There were even some workers painting around, and it is always nice to see, it gave me manicure vibes, you know, but for the death. I like when cemeteries are taken care of like that.

The many walls and collections of tombs give the cemetery an almost maze like atmosphere, I think that if it ever was in me doing a cemetery for columbariums like this, I would make it as a maze, or just a bit as a maze.

Now here is the curious thing about this cemetery. it is not just columbariums, it has some graves too, they are all in small green areas and they even have a small sign that says "tombs cannot be moved since they are considered historical pieces." But then you look at the date of death and they are either from the 90s or the 2000s, you know, dates that could imply people who knew these people are still alive. It makes me think that maybe the switch from "permanent stone tombs" to "columbariums for rental" wasn't as far ago as I thought it was. There is a sign that says the contract for rental is for 4 years and some of the graves in these columbariums are set for exhumation. I guess it is a bit sad that you still have to rent a place after you are dead, and such a small one at that, but well, when you are dead, you really don't notice how small your place is, so I guess it sorts itself out.

This made me realize how beautiful tombstones are, like, not just the stone table with your name, but also the stone that covers your grave, it is just so beautiful and I can't explain why. There is something about the lasting nature of the stone that seems it could extend the proof of your existence on earth for just a little longer.

I saw a small room similar to the morgue on the San Gil Cemetery, but this one is just the "place for exhumations" and in here the windows are covered in dark glass thankfully so, since it seems more sanitary.

The last curious thing I saw was this wall with tiny stone tablets with names on them, they are all piled together on the wall and the rest of the wall is covered with either plaster or stucco, I wonder the reason for such arrangement, are those the people whose families stopped paying rent and were exhumed? Why were they placed permanently like that on a wall? It's a bit of a mystery.

Overall, this cemetery is modest yet quietly dignified. The gray of its floor gives it a bit of a sad appearance which I weirdly enjoy.

6/10

[randomfoggytiger]

"I Think He's a Hard Kid to Love"

(Fictober, Day 23)

Inspired by these prompts and sketches (shoutout to my family members.)

*****

Scully was sitting outside her motel room, half-awake, trying to warm up in the weak, wavering sun and shockingly cold morning air. 

It wasn’t working. 

Mulder’s door opened and he dodged out, awkwardly fiddling with his phone while juggling his luggage. She watched disinterestedly, still glazed with sleep, as he strode across the parking lot, waiting for the call to go through. Then he was chattering, trying to place his luggage in the trunk of their rental, failing, and forcefully shoving them in with his second, impatient attempt. Scully noticed he was shocking a squirrel half to death but decided not to interfere: she didn't feel like wrangling the locals while still mentally in bed. More importantly, her coffee hadn't kicked in.

At this rate, she doubted it ever would. 

She was only aware her eyes were closed because Mulder was back and nudging her shoulder, voice startlingly close as he said, “Looks like we’re still going on a little road trip, Scully.” He walked away, humming something under his breath.

Whoopee. 

*****

It’s not that Scully disliked road trips in the fall-- they were gorgeous drives, made her feel grateful to be human-- but she vastly preferred them in casual clothes in her own car on her own time at home. Which was the opposite of where they were heading. 

A few gorgeous red trees meandered their way past the windshield, so slowly it was easy to mistake them for friends holding hands and loping soundlessly through the woods. Now that she thought of it, the entire forest came alive through a few perfected squints and an imagination fueled by groggy awareness and pre-caffeine boredom.

“Killer trees”, their boss had said. Flat. Tell me I’m wrong, he’d meant. 

“That’s what Agent Mulder… suggested, Sir. And I’m at a loss to explain the corroborating witnesses' testimony without… some degree of credit to his story.” 

There had been a long, disappointed sigh. “Agent Scully, might I have a word with him?” 

And they’d been promptly assigned a case close enough to drive to. Mulder had dodged all inquiries on how or why Skinner forced them away from rather than toward home; but he’d gotten her thinly veiled hints and called up Boss Man again while they packed, doing his best to wiggle them out of the obligation.

No dice. 

*****

“Gorgeous,” she murmured, willing to give Nature its due now that she was a little more awake. 

“Hm. What?” Mulder stopped humming briefly to shoot her a side-glance; then scanned the road to find what she was talking about.

“The scenery-- the sky and the trees and the grass. Rich reds and yellows and oranges. The blue isn’t too blue.” 

He nodded as she braced herself further upright against the door. “Mm. Tranquil.” 

A bluster of leaves swirled across the road, smacked the hood of the car, and whooshed away. 

Is that irony, tragedy, or comedy? Scully flicked away the thought like an unwanted fuzz of lint on her skirt. She was not going to be bogged down with useless thought trails that warranted an obscene amount of energy this early in the morning. 

*****

“I think I’d enjoy it more if my eyes weren’t…” Mulder made a vague handwave, drawing her attention to-- not away from-- his attention-seeking smile. 

Fine. Here we go. “Mulder, you are not red-green colorblind.”

“Ah, au contraire, Scully-- my paperwork would prove you wrong.” He was enjoying this: probably had been bored out of his mind simply sitting and staring, probably waited until she could wake up enough to verbally spar before opening a topic between them, probably chose one that would annoy her even more awake. 

Touche. 

“Your paperwork is nonexistent because you never bothered to get tested, Mulder.”

“There’s a very big difference between Salmon and Dusty Salmon, Scully; and I’m one of the unlucky few that can’t tell that all-important difference.” 

She blinked at him, enjoyed watching the swirling swaths of autumnal colors blend behind his profile. “I’d wager a lot of people can’t tell the difference between Salmon and Other Salmon. And whatever you think you have, it most certainly didn’t affect your recruitment.” 

“Or it could mean the higher ups wanted my abilities so badly they were willing to fudge a bit of paperwork.” He was modest, immodest, self-deprecating, and proud all at once. How Mulder. 

“Mulder, you see normal human blood and acidic green blood. You see these trees. You see my hair. Proof.” Scully formed her words precisely, smugly. “Scientific evidence.” 

His hands were already diving into a sunflower seed bag, his rhythmic cracking a routine that keyed him up and settled him down simultaneously. Mulder's queue that he was meditating an interesting little comeback.

“Yeah, well, I coulda sworn your hair’s changed color over the years, Scully.” 

She was crisp and professional, the very model of dignity as she sniffed at the assertion. “Lighting, Mulder-- more precisely, bad lighting. I’ll never forget the day I changed the bulbs in the office and you walked in, stood there, and stared like you’d woken up in some weird alternate universe.” 

Scully preferred to refer to their workspace as the office or the office down there and not the basement or the den of iniquity like her partner did. It kept things above board-- above reproach, above criticism, above scrutiny. Above the low bar of Mulder's jokes.

Crunch, crack. “Yeah, well…”

“And my hair hasn’t changed since, has it?”

Crack, crunch, genuine smile. “You never know, Scully-- it might spring something on you yet.” 

“Until it does, I’m going to soak up what’s left of this drive.” 

They both swiveled towards their respective views, Scully leaning against the car window and Mulder picking up his humming in between spits and chews.

***** 

It was a sleepy old town they arrived in; and a sleepy old gas station they pulled up to. 

“Has law enforcement been alerted we’re coming?” Scully asked, stretching her limbs while trying to sidestep the wind.

Mulder didn’t answer. Avoiding, again. 

“Mulder--”

“They, uh, aren’t going to be involved. In this case.” His eyes were fixed on the gas nozzle, swiping a finger back and forth as if studying its dimensions for the first time. 

“Mulder. Why not?” 

“Because this assignment is a bit… unofficial,” Mulder smirked, meeting her eyes hesitantly. 

Scully straightened her shoulders, trying to pick apart his vague answers. “Skinner gave us an unofficial case?” 

“He gave us an unofficial assignment.” 

Visions of home and hearth and comfy clothes danced behind her eyes. “There isn’t a case?” 

“There could be. We’re here to make sure it doesn’t happen.” Mulder looked from her eyes to her eyebrows to her stance, shrugged, and pretended to focus his gaze elsewhere. Again. This time it was on the leaf sticking to the roof of their car.  

She sighed, let her shoulders drop, and almost, almost smiled.  

*****

A man named Ernesto had a friend named Bernie. Bernie was very popular in the town, made friends with everyone, was thought of as the town’s mascot almost-- 

“Mulder, you make it sound like this town made an attraction out of a human being.”

--And be that as it may, everyone got along, swept up in brotherly love one toward another. However, every fall Bernie got a bit… uncontrollable, wouldn't listen to reason, and broke into peoples’ properties to get his hands on food. 

“He doesn’t have enough to eat?”

He did-- does-- as it happens; but was never convinced it was enough. So, every fall the townsfolk got-- get-- antsy and tried to reason with Ernesto to keep a tighter leash on his friend. But Ernesto wouldn't-- won’t-- listen to reason. 

“So we’re… what? Deployed by the FBI to be a brute force reminder?” 

“I don’t think that’s quite what Skinner had in mind when he said to have a chat with Ernesto; but if you’re that bloodthirsty, G-woman, I’ll rustle us up another bad guy you can shoot at.” 

“I already have two I’d like to take a potshot at; so why don’t we get this over with before my trigger happy finger gets a mind of its own?” 

*****

Bernie was a bear. 

Scully didn’t know if she was more appalled or amused at the sight of a full-grown black bear swamped in fall sweaters charging full speed at her; but humor won out as Mulder lunged from her periphery and knocked them both safely out of its path. 

“BERNIE, GET BACK HEREEEEEEEEE!” Ernesto screeched, shrimp-thin leash flailing uselessly above his head. “BERNIE, YOU JUST GOT A HUGE MEAL ONE HOUR AGO! BERNIE--!”  

Scully had a split second to process the unfolding madness before Mulder leaped to his feet and dashed for the door. She scrambled after him, wondering how in the world Skinner would know a man that owned a bear; and decided she didn’t want to know. 

“BERNIEEEEEEEEEE--” echoed behind her in the town hall. How was Ernesto allowed to bring a domesticated bear into Town Hall? 

“BEAR!” echoed in front of her down the front steps of town hall. How did Mulder think yelling 'Bear' would help them at all?

Her partner was pointing ahead of him at-- 

“That’s a werewolf lawn ornament, Mulder!” she yelled, still trying to sort through the cacophony of thoughts and strategies flitting through her mind. 

He took off down the steps, looking wildly left and right. “Bernie!” Mulder veered a few paces left, changed his mind, veered right. “Bernie!” 

Ernesto ran after him, sniffling back tears. “BERNIE, THIS IS THE TENTH TIME THIS WEEK-- WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME--”

Stopping to lean against the stairs' right-side wall support, Scully watched the two men circle the front lawn, regroup, and take off in opposite directions-- Mulder straight for a tempting garden they’d passed on their walk here and Ernesto weaving off to one possibly like it. 

*****

A snuffling caught her attention. 

Scully looked over the wall and froze, her blue eyes meeting wide, black ones. 

Bear and woman stared at each other for a long, long time, his mouth wrapped halfway around a mangled pumpkin and hers flapping open and shut as she tried to emit sound of any kind. 

It was only a minute-- less than-- before the bear lost interest and began chewing on his make-do snack again. 

“B…ernie?” she whispered, and watched his ears swivel in her direction. “Bernie? You need to come back inside. Come back inside, wait for Ernesto.” 

Bernie looked at her begrudgingly, and it was such a spitting image of her nephew that all fear vanished in a gust of wind. “Bernie. Come inside. And bring your snack with you.” Might as well let him finish and save everyone the hassle of cleaning up. 

Bernie must have sensed her compromise: he rose and lumbered back over to and up the steps, taking great care to wipe all four of his muddy paws on the mat before going back inside. 

*****

Before she could decide how to proceed, a loud yelp pierced the air and Scully knew, immediately, it was her partner. 

“MULDER?” She turned and chased after the phantom of Mulder's footsteps-- past the werewolf decoration, stacks of raked autumn leaves, half the town, and a few more shocked squirrels.

She vaguely hoped Bernie would stay where he was. 

*****

“A possum party,” Mulder explained to Ernesto, trying to clean his muddy fingers on his muddy coat. “I think I found your culprits, though some blame can still be placed on Bernie’s inadequate leash.” 

Ernesto was half-listening, squeezing his pet in the biggest, most awkward hug Scully had ever seen.

She’d only witnessed the tail end of Mulder’s newest drama-- as usual-- more specifically, the many tail ends of a troop of fleeing possums, some ravaged vegetables, and her partner face-planted, business end up, in front of a very slick patch of mud. They’d have to rent another motel room in order to get cleaned up for the trip home. 

Whoopee. 

“Mr. Ernesto, I’m going to have to reiterate what my partner said. Your leash is inadequate to prevent Bernie from running off however he wants or chooses; and even if, as you say, he is not a menace to anyone else he is, at the very least, liable to get injured or killed if he startles someone with a firearm or runs into traffic. This is a final warning; otherwise, we’ll have to get the proper authorities involved.”

Mulder, she noticed, was highly amused-- and something else-- that Scully had taken the bad cop approach; and even more so when Ernesto hung on every word she said with beseeching eyes. 

“Agent Mulder will go with you to pick out a suitable collar while I make a few final calls, Ernesto. Consider this your lucky day.”  

She didn’t even care that her partner wasn’t so amused anymore. 

*****

Scully hung up the call with Skinner mildly appeased, having stressed the precious time she and Agent Mulder had wasted; that Ernesto was unlikely to heed their warnings, regardless; and that they (meaning she) had gone above and beyond the call of duty and saw no reason, Sir, to do these sorts of assignments any time soon in the near future. 

Their boss wasn’t concerned enough, she mused, when he thanked her for the call and hung up. 

She lugged Mulder’s carryon into the nearest motel she could find, deciding that putting his essential items into piles would keep this pit stop as short as possible. While unpacking some of his shirts, the tune he was humming in the car popped into her mind; and Scully tried to place it as she unrolled a few of her partner's tank tops. Then she stopped, deeply sighed, and tossed his shirts down in annoyance before stomping back to the car. 

He had had the gall to sing The Bare Necessities the entire drive.

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event