#birthday flying squirrel

[sweetcat3908]

I want everyone to draw Birthday Flying Squirrel in different styles

His bio: Birthday Flying Squirrel is a light yellow flying squirrel that cares about birthdays, and he was based by his original design and Splendid from Happy Tree Friends (Which it was an adult show that looks like a kids show)

In human form: Birthday's outfit is a prince + magical boy with long sleeves and a blue bowtie, and it has the same color palette as his

Base made by Pukopop on DA

https://www.deviantart.com/pukopop/art/F2U-BASE-chibi-poses-865260735

[seansilv25]

Happy 33rd birthday to the Blue Blur!

And for this occasion, I have brought out my take on an idea that a good few people have already thought about before: "What if Metal Sonic was organic?" (Plus a few slight redesigns of Mighty and Ray)

As for the story and lore of how this happened, the current idea is that Tails reverse-engineered one of the Robot Generators and Metal fell into one, turning him into this new organic form. He'd stick around with Eggman for a while before running away (after finding out how the doctor wiped his memory post-Heroes), eventually crashing in front of and being "adopted" by Mighty and Ray. Despite initially loathing them, he would come to appreciate the two, forming their own crew of Team Odyssey and him taking up the name "Neo the Hedgehog" as a reflection of his new life. (Oh, and he also gets a big love of anything s'more flavored).

Someday in the future, I'll eventually expand upon all this into its own fanfic. But not for a while, because A) I'm still busy with Resonance, and B) I have a different Sonic What If I want to do first (I'm not saying what it is because as far as I know, no one else has thought about it)

But either way, as I said at the top, happy birthday Sonic!

[mightyray]

Decided to put all my gifts and requests I did for the awesome @doorintosummer into one big collection. I love Pillow and Blanket so much. Please suppor Sen, they're one of my all-time favourite artists and their work gives me life. I mean every word of it.

[i-am-a-secret-ssshhh]

I don’t know about any of you, but I have a favorite photo of myself.

My sixteenth birthday photo, where I am wearing somewhat alt makeup (my mother wouldn’t let me go all out, she wanted me to look somewhat “nice”). I’m staring at my birthday candles, looking with a very menacing face. The look was not intentional, it’s just my face.

So, all of this. I have my dark makeup, my menacing face, the lit birthday candles. You may be thinking, ok, what’s so special about it?

Well, all of that is amazing, but what’s amazing is the final piece.

My dark makeup, menacing face, and lit birthday candles can ONLY be complete by my pink flying squirrel onesie.

I might post the photo here, honestly, because it’s hilarious.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope (Part 2/5)

(part 1) (part 3)

The next time you go hunting, the Bahrs go with you.

“It’s really fine,” you protest. It’s early enough in the morning that the air carries a bite. With any luck, they’ll think the redness in your cheeks comes from the chill rather than embarrassment. “I’m not even going far in. It’s Hera’s birthday coming up and she likes squirrel…”

“You’re going to catch a squirrel without a blade?” Mr. Bahr – Ivan – asks. He tightens the strap on Mrs. Bahr’s back, making sure the quiver of arrows is snug along her spine. He pats her shoulder when he finishes and beams at you. “Are you very fast?”

Yes, you are. You’ve noticed that you’re even faster lately as your 15th birthday marches closer and closer. You purse your lips. “I set traps.”

“Don’t mind him, Isla,” Mrs. Bahr -Marie -  says. She fondly shoves Ivan off the porch of the orphanage so she can get down. “He’s always joking.”

“What sort of traps?” Ivan asks. He runs a critical eye over your coat and pack. “Will that be warm enough?”

You’re not sure if your coat is warm enough for the weather or not. Another rising power: you’re nearly impervious to the cold. You shrug. “I’ll be fine. And just simple snares and stuff.”

“We can’t wait to see,” Ivan declares. He gestures towards the road. “Lead the way.”

You bite your lip. It’s clear that they knew you were going hunting today by their garb. Both are in sturdy, worn leather with swords on their hips and bows along their backs. They probably heard from Director Sarah and came specifically to make sure you kept your promise not to hunt alone. But… “The other kids will be sorry they missed you.”

“We’ll see them when we return victorious with birthday squirrels,” Ivan says.

“What a sentence,” Marie says dryly.

You aren’t going to convince them to let you go alone. You silently lead the way towards the orchard. Or, rather, as silently as you can. Ivan talks the whole time, asking questions about the apple trees and pointing to ducks flying overhead. You answer the questions you know the answer to and hum whenever you don’t. You wish you knew more about the vegetation, but the most you can tell Ivan is whether or not something is poisonous.

“Those ones,” you say, nodding to the low, circular leaves Mr. Bahr is pointing to, “are tricky. The real ones taste kind of sweet. The other kind that looks like that makes your stomach cramp for three days straight.”

“How can you tell the difference?” Ivan asks.

You shrug. “You can’t. I just tell the younger kids to bring it to me before eating it. Usually, I trade it for something actually edible.”

Marie, trailing behind you both, makes a noise of interest. “Usually?”

You feel your ears go hot. “Sometimes I’ll try it for them just to see if they can eat it. I’ve had enough of the bad one that it doesn’t affect me so much.”

“You try it?” Marie’s voice is sharp. “Isla, there has to be a better way.”

“Not really,” you say. You scratch the back of your head and quicken your step. You’re almost to the tree line of the woods. “The kids like sweet things. If I didn’t give in occasionally, they’d try it themselves. At least this way they check in with me first.”

“I still don’t think—”

“Sounds like Marie and I’ll be bringing some sweets along with us next time,” Ivan interrupts cheerfully. He points past the last apple tree about a dozen feet ahead. “Looks like the path ends there?”

“There’s an animal track about ten feet into the woods,” you say. You’re uncomfortable with Marie’s reaction. You know it’s not smart to eat poisonous plants, but what else were you supposed to do? Your worst fear is that the kids will one day get hungry enough to eat them without caring about the pain. Your shoulders round. “We’ll need to be quiet once we’re there.”

“I’m the best at being quiet,” Ivan says. He elbows Marie. “Right, Marie?”

“Right,” Marie says. Her voice is still a little strained, but you can tell she’s trying to hide it. “That’s why I married you.”

“That’s a lie,” Ivan says. He stage-whispers to you, “She married me for my amazingly dashing good looks.”

Marie huffs a laugh but doesn’t say anything else. You’ve entered the forest.

You were worried on the way that you’d need to tell Ivan that he needs to be quiet in the forest. You needn’t have been concerned. Both adults are silent and walk with quiet steps, their dark eyes alert on their surroundings. They move through the undergrowth gracefully, their years of experience showing in every step. You try to copy Marie’s soft footfalls as best you can and are pleased when your steps get a little quieter.

The Bahrs watch as you pick places for your traps. Ivan silently points to one of your knots, eyebrow raised. Guessing what he’s asking, you undo the knot and then redo it slowly. He nods in satisfaction and then gestures for you to give him the rope. Curiously, you do. Ivan completes the same knot, fingers steady through each step. When he’s done, he presents it to you proudly as if to say, See? I did it!

It makes you do something you very rarely do in the woods. You smile.

After setting the traps you take the Bahrs to your favorite resting spot. The clearing lies just by the edge of the shallow part of the river. About a mile downstream the banks widen and the North River joins this one, making it a dangerous place of rapids. Here, however, the water moves slowly and is shallow enough to be warmed by the sun.

Finally, you speak. “Shouldn’t be too long. Maybe an hour or two and then we can go check on them.”

“Is this where you found the horned rabbit?” Marie asks. You sit on a large, flat rock by the river, but she stays standing. Her eyes carefully scan the perimeter of the clearing.

“Not quite. That was near the hills.” You point. “Fifteen minutes that way.”

“That’s close,” Ivan says. He frowns, concerned. “Was that the first demon you’ve seen here?”

“No.” When the Bahrs turn to you in alarm, you shrug. “Not all the time, but demons come here. They’re usually not interested in me though.”

“But the horned rabbit was?” Marie asks.

Interested is an understatement. You’re not an idiot. You know that demons are dangerous. That’s why you usually avoid them when you spot them. Normally they’re content to let you pass by, but not the horned rabbit. It followed you nearly all the way back to the orchard before you realized you needed to do something before it attacked you. “Yeah.”

“What other types of demons do you see here?” Ivan asks. His voice is light, but he’s looking at you with a very serious expression. “Maybe howling bats?”

“I hear them sometimes,” you say, “but I don’t stick around after dark.” Ivan and Marie exchange dark looks. You fidget on the rock. “What?”

“This is protected land, Isla,” Marie says. She purses her lips. “No demons should be south of those hills.”

“What other types have you seen?” Ivan asks again. He comes to squat by you so he can look you in the eyes. “And when?”

“Just horned rabbits.”

“Are you sure?” Marie asks. She runs a hand over her hair, slicking back the fly aways. “Horned rabbits aren’t usually sighted alone.”

You hesitate. It’s true that the horned rabbits are the only demons you’ve seen, but… “There have been some signs lately, but I don’t know if they’re demons.”

Ivan’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“Wolves,” you say. Both Bahrs stiffen, hands going to their swords. You speak quickly. “But I’ve never seen them! They might be regular wolves. I found the tracks at the base of the hill, and some bones, but they were a week old probably.”

“We’ll need to ask the Lord to investigate,” Marie tells Ivan. She looks deeply unhappy. “The patrol doesn’t cover this far south.”

“An oversight,” Ivan says grimly. He reaches out absently and ruffles your hair. It startles you, but it feels nice. Ivan makes an effort to smile at you. “Good eyes, Isla. Is there anything else you’ve noticed changing in the forest lately? Even something not demon related?”

Something funny is happening in your chest. Good eyes, Isla. You wrack your brain for anything else. “I haven’t seen any other tracks or anything and there’s only been four or five horned rabbits this season.”

Marie makes a small noise in her throat. When you turn to look at her, she hides whatever expression she’d been making. “That’s a lot. Did you need to use your sharp stick on all of them?”

Ivan startles. “Sharp stick?”

You rub the back of you neck. “Just two.” You look up at the sky. You only had a sharp stick that day, but there are times when you’ve come out here with a knife. Knife days are for when you’re looking for bigger game.  “I’ve been pretty lucky hunting lately, now that I think about it. There’s been more deer and regular rabbits south of the river.”

“What do you mean ‘lately?’”

“The past month.”

Ivan and Marie exchange another long look. Before you can ask them what’s wrong, Ivan turns to you with another smile.

“Say,” he says, “what do you think about trying to bag something bigger than a squirrel today? You ever fire a bow before?”

Your eyes widen. “No.”

“You can use mine,” Marie says, pulling it from her shoulder. She holds it out to you. “We’re nearly the same height. The draw may be a bit heavy for you—or not.”

Embarrassed by the shock in her voice, you release the string. “I’m, uh, stronger than I look.”

“Good,” Ivan says. “That’ll make it easier to actually catch something today.”

The next few hours are the most fun you’ve ever had in the woods. Marie and Ivan go over every part of the bow with you, explaining the weight of it, the flexibility, the length. Marie and Ivan carry several different types of arrows with different tips, all good for different types of shooting. They let you practice on a tree across the river and each time you’re closer to hitting the center of it, they compliment how fast you’re learning, how accurate your eye, how steady and consistent your draw.

By the time they let you hunt with it, you feel like you’re walking on clouds.

The feeling lasts even after you return to the orphanage, a deer slung over Marie’s shoulders and your hands full of squirrel. There’s a pleasant ache in your back and arms from practicing with the bow. You can’t stop smiling. Everything Ivan says is out of the blue and Marie’s tired responses make it all funny.

At one point you’re walking behind them, watching their shoulders brush when the path gets a little too narrow. They’re smiling at each other and talking softly and for a wild, wonderful, awful moment, you imagine that you can keep this. You aren’t sure what this is. Their attention and their companionship, their gentle guidance and the way they speak to you like you’re an adult?

After Hera’s birthday dinner, the Bahrs stay extra late to help clean up and to spend time with the younger kids. You are still feeling a sort of bone deep happiness you’ve never felt before. Everyone is full and sleepy-eyed from the amount of food you were able to put on the table. The kids gather around their slates in the common area, learning a new type of drawing game from Ivan and Marie.

Hera comes up to where you’re leaning on the doorway. Quietly, she slips her hand into yours. You squeeze it.

“Thanks for the squirrel,” she says quietly.

You lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Happy Birthday.”

She hums and watches the fun in the living room for a long moment. She’s eleven now, three years older than you were that Winter. She’s the second oldest in the orphanage and, for the first time, you wonder if she feels the same sort of responsibility as you.

“I’m happy for you, you know,” Hera says.

You make a low questioning noise in your throat.

“The Bahrs will be good to you,” Hera says. She looks up at you evenly, a small smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. “You deserve that, Isla.”

Every muscle in your chest locks, chasing away the pleasant languidness you’d been feeling. “That’s not—they’re not—”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Hera says. She stands on tiptoe so she can throw her arms around your shoulders, hugging you like she did when she was five. She whispers in your ear, “But I would be happy if they did.”

She lets go of you before you can tell her she’s being ridiculous, skipping into the room to join the drawing game.

You feel out of sorts for the rest of the night.

-----------------------.

(part 1) (part 3)

Thanks for reading! The full story is already posted on my Patreon (X)! If you'd like to support me, please consider checking out my page!

This month will be seeing two main things update on Patreon first: Dandelion (x) and my Cinderella story (masterpost coming soon!) updates for both coming later this week!

[muses-of-the-memory]

Sonic and Tails high five and ten each other. Classic Sonic and Tails hugs Hikari goodbye as they run to the portal. Amy, Knuckles, Shadow, Rouge, Omega, Big, Cream and Cheese, Shade, Shahra, Sticks, Ray, Mighty, Blaze, and Silver look at the scene. Espio, Vector, Charmy and Knuckles wave goodbye, followed by Cream and Cheese, Amy, Rouge, Blaze and Silver while Shadow just looks.

"Hey Sonic! Enjoy your future. It's gonna be great!" Sonic shouted to his Classic counterpart, who gives a thumbs up as he and Classic Tails jump into the portal and it disappears, as Modern Tails and the rest still wave, while Sonic just looks on.

“Sonic!” Hikari clapped happily as she ran up to him

"Hey Hikari!" Sonic said hugging back Hikari when he saw her coming up to hug him. "Long time no see."

[bluelocksource]

Alexis Ness’ trivia (src: EGOIST BIBLE 2)

☆ Character's color: Magical Purple.

☆ Weapon : Illusion Cross.

☆ Birthday: 16th March.

☆ Current age: 18 (at the start of NEL).

☆ Zodiac: Pisces.

☆ Nickname: "The Magician"

☆ Birthplace: Hamburg, Germany.

☆ Family: Father. Mother. Older brother. Older Sister. Himself.

☆ Current height: 181 cm.

☆ Foot size: 28 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: Right.

☆ Blood type: AB.

☆ Visual acuity: 1.0

☆ Grip strength: 53 kg.

☆ Motto: "Magic resides in those who believe."

☆ Team: Bastard München.

☆ Starts playing football: At age 8. "First time I saw it in a stadium. I will never forget that football magic."

☆ Hobby: Discovering magic. "The world is filled with all kinds of magic!"

☆ Favorite food: Sachertorte. "The combo with whipped cream and coffee is the best!"

☆ Dislike/hated food: Herring pie. "My mom isn’t a great cook, and this one is especially terrible."

☆ What goes best with rice:  "Cheese curry, maybe. "

☆ Favorite animal: Flying squirrel. "It's cute and can fly—how fantastical!"

☆ Favorite season: Winter. "A clear winter sky makes feel like I could fly."

☆ Favorite movie: The Notebook.

☆ Favorite music: "The Rose" by Bette Midler.

☆ Favorite football player: Michael Kaiser.

☆ Favorite subject: Ethics & P.E.

☆ Weak subject: Maths & Physics.

☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: "Probably mushroom. They have cute shape!"

☆ Ideal type: "A strong person who can control their solitude."

☆ Fixation: Lonely expressions. "It makes me feel like I can understand their solitude."

☆ What would make him happy: "When others share in my excitement."

☆ What would make him upset: "The denial of magic I believed in." 

☆ What he thinks his strength is: Valuing the invisible (feelings, wishes, thoughts).

☆ What he thinks his weakness is: Stubbornness. "Not bending on what I believe in (though I don’t really think of it as a weakness)."

☆ What made him cry recently: “I can’t remember. I cry often. My tear ducts are very sensitive... Hehe ♪”

☆ Usual sleeping hour: 6.5 hours.

☆ Number of chocolates received from previous Valentine: 10. "It seems they were delivered to my team! Thank you!"

☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: His arms.

☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: "I’d probably consult with Kaiser. I might say something like “I don’t need this crap,” though!"

☆ At what age he stops receiving presents from Santa: "I didn’t have that kind of thing at home. So I prepared my own stockings. Not that he ever came."

☆ What was his last wish from Santa: "Anything was fine. Anything at all."

☆ How he spent his holiday:  "Training with Kaiser. Eating with Kaiser. Shopping with Kaiser. With Kaiser... etc."

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: "I hope for a miracle so that day won’t actually be the last."

☆ Favorite historical figure: Joan of Arc.

☆ If he hadn't encountered soccer, what will he be doing: "I wonder if I would still believe in magic."

☆ If he could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be: "Kaiser. Wait, is a human not allowed? Then I don’t need anything."

☆ If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The past. "I would hug my younger self, who believed in magic and cried alone, and tell them, “It’s okay to be just as you are.”"

note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!

[thejasontoddarchives]

Happy birthday Jason Peter Todd! King of the flying squirrels and the pew pew

We love you! It may have taken 17 years and the will of God but we’re so glad you came back in all your furious glory.

Batman: Under the Red Hood (2005)

[impalaimagining]

Does It Make A Sound?

Word Count: 2,413

Warnings: mentions of psych ward/unstable behavior

A/N: written for @jacklesversebingo and because of a random prompt they dropped in the discord this morning. Prompt at the bottom to avoid spoilers.

Square filled: small town setting

You’re seven years old, your mother kneels in the garden, a flowered foam board beneath her, failing at its job to protect her knees from the sharp rocks in the dirt. As you roam the flower beds beside her, a loud bumblebee catches your attention and you follow it into the open yard. It buzzes, winding its way around the grass and into the treeline at the back of the property. There should be a fence there, separating you from the densely wooded area, but the wooden pickets crumbled under the fallen branches of last winter’s storm. It’s impossible, almost, to see into the thick tangle of branches, even as far down as your eye level. The forest isn’t exactly scary - it’s just dark.

And… loud.

The only sound you heard in the yard was the bee, but standing next to the trees, it’s like another world coming alive within the leaves. The birds chirp, the bugs chitter and skirt across the cold ground, and there’s even a frog bellowing from the creek burbling nearby. But that’s not what really draws you in.

That day - the day you innocently wandered through the grass, following the path of an unknowing bumblebee - is the first day you hear the voices. 

On your ninth birthday, you invite all of the friends from your class to come to your house. Your mother promises you a pink and purple cake, just like the one in the bakery’s catalog, and though she usually doesn’t come through on her promises, on this one, she delivers. A small, two-tiered pastry sits on your kitchen counter as your classmates filter through from the front door into the backyard. 

Your father has repaired the fence since the day you meandered into the forest, your mother’s fearful scream at her realization of your absence prompting him to leave immediately for the hardware store in town.

Still, despite the barrier, you’re drawn to the woods. The voices beckon to you every time you enter the backyard. You want to dive into the thick boughs of the pine trees and follow the sounds of children guiding you to play with them. But you can’t; you’re confined to the safety of the yard. Quite literally, fenced in.

Your friends run and play behind you, delighted squeals coming from the girls while the boys chase them. But you don’t care. You don’t want that. You want the forest. The voices want you in the forest.

Sixteen. Your first time driving a car, your first love, your first heartbreak.

He kissed your best friend behind the snack stand at the Friday night football game while you were buying him fries. 

You run, but not into the house, not through the house, around the house. Around the fence. You run past Mr. Walter Smith’s clothesline, past his shed full of landscaping equipment. You breach the treeline, and suddenly, your crying subsides. Your sobs turn into deep, calming breaths as you inhale and exhale the new air around you.

You’re in the forest.

The voices surround you. You feel them, like whispered words from a lover, ghosting across your skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of the breeze caressing you. You’re alone, but despite the way your heart shattered at the sight of your ex-boyfriend and your best friend, you’re certainly not lonely inside the darkness of the woods. 

You’re finally inside, and you’re silent, barely allowing yourself to breathe too loudly. The forest has a heartbeat, a pulse, breath flowing through it. You’ve never felt more alive. The forest is alive, though you see no signs of life. No birds flying, no bugs crawling, no deer or squirrels or mice. There’s nothing, but there’s everything. 

Your mother’s voice permeates the dense foliage, but you barely hear it. You don’t care, don’t give even a second thought to her screams as she calls out for you. Closing your eyes, you let the forest overtake you. Your arms feel like branches, your legs press together and become a solid tree trunk, your hair bristles like the leaves. 

Faintly, distantly, you’re aware of nails clawing at your arm, then your shoulders, and suddenly you’re shaking. Your mother’s shrill voice racks you, drawing you out of your daze. She raises her hand just as you come to, and you know if you hadn’t awoken when you did, her next move was to slap you across your face. 

But deep in your heart, and maybe because of the whispers still ringing in your ears, you know that wouldn’t have happened. The forest sent you back to her before she had the chance. The forest protected you.

It’s the autumn after your twenty-eighth birthday, and you’re packing up boxes, taping across the seams at the top, and stacking them beside to your apartment door.

“Felix…” You warn your tuxedo cat. “Don’t even think about it.” The boxes are stacked precariously, and he’s known for his uncanny ability to find the weak spot in every piece of cardboard he’s ever met. 

He’s a rescue, and a bit of an asshole, but he won you over with his big green eyes the minute you saw him at the pet shop. He heeds your warning, instead stalking toward you and climbing into the hole in your lap where your criss-cross-applesauce position leaves a void. You rest your palm on his head and let him nuzzle against your hand.

“You ready to go, buddy?” You coo at him, and he purrs, like he approves of the entire uprooting of your life. “That makes one of us.”

A shaky hand hovers above the doorknob; you’re hesitant to go inside. You’ve not been back since your father died and they sent your mother to her permanent inpatient stay at a psychiatric facility. Thankfully, you were eighteen at the time and no one had to be your keeper. So you picked up and moved halfway across the country under the guise of just being a normal high school graduate going to college.

It’s late, and you’re grateful that you thought to call and have the town’s handyman install a motion light on the front porch. Already fumbling with Felix’s carrier, you don’t have a spare hand to hold your phone for a flashlight along with finding the right key for the front door.

Once you reach the door and flip through four keys before settling on the correct one, you shove the old wood with your hip and it creaks open, like it’s reluctant to let you back inside. Tossing your keys onto the table beside the door, you run your hand along the wall for the light switch. When you find it, the yellow glow of the globe light on the ceiling illuminates the room. A shiver runs up your spine. 

Nothing has changed.

The walls are still the same weird shade of pink, floral wallpaper trim wrapping around the entirety of the room along the top of every wall. The plaid couches, somehow also floral - what was with your mother and flowers? - sit dusty, in the same place they’ve been for two decades. You set down the cat carrier and puff out a breath as you look around.

You eventually empty your hard-side cooler into the fridge, having packed the bare minimum to make it through the weekend before you have to travel into town and grocery shop. Heaving your bags up the steps, you haphazardly throw them into your childhood bedroom and shudder as the dolls in the corner catch your eye. Your mother allowed you to change a few things as you aged out of dolls, but according to her, they were a family heirloom, so you were required to keep them perched somewhere in your room. As if a seventeen-year-old girl cares about a family heirloom. 

You decide the boxes of dishes, countertop appliances, pantry-type food, can wait until the daylight eases your mind tomorrow. You strip the old sheets off your twin-size bed and replace them with the new set you purchased at Target before civilization dwindled to practically nothing as you neared your hometown. Topping the bed off with your favorite throw blanket, you settle in for the night, Felix wrapped around himself in the crook of your knees. Your eyes find the window, illuminated by the light of the almost-full moon. Even from the comfort of your bed, you see the treetops silhouetted against the night sky. The forest is waiting for you.

You stand on the crumbling bricks just outside the door, closing your eyes as the morning sun threatens to take the chill from the air. Swallowing after a slow sip of coffee, you inhale deeply through your nose. There’s something about the smell, the trees and the fallen, dead leaves, the dirt you know is crawling with the same earthworms you used to dig up before going fishing with Mr. Walter Smith from next door. It all swirls and combines as you take your deep breath in, and all at once you’re hit with the smell of home.

You realize then that you’ve left the brick patio, like your feet have moved without your approval. You’re standing at the fence, two decades old and still standing just as strong as the day it was built, which has you giving silent kudos to your father’s craftsmanship. Clutching the porcelain mug between your palms, you glance up. The trees have grown, somehow now even more looming and paralyzing than they were when you yourself were two feet shorter. 

After looking at the trees for what seems like an eternity, you gasp. You’re standing in the exact same spot you stood on that first day, where the sounds of the forest pulled you in and hooked their claws into you, keeping you addicted to knowing what truly lay beyond the boundaries of your yard.

That day, the voices swirled - the whispers, the quiet giggling, the gentle caress of someone beckoning you in, a soft “come here” lingering in your ear. Today, standing where your feet have stood countless times before, you’re nauseous. Something is very, very wrong.

It’s silent.

In the new, eerie quiet, you hear footsteps approach to your right, crunching against the dead, brown grass, littered with yellowed leaves. The hair on the back of your neck stand at attention, goosebumps prickling the skin of your arms. Letting out a shaky, almost silent breath, you shift your weight and spin on your heel, throwing a punch in the direction of the-

“Whoa, easy!” His voice booms with a chuckle as he catches your fist in his palm. “Okay, noted. Don’t sneak up on the new neighbor.”

His words hit you. New neighbor.

He has no idea the history of this house, these woods, you. 

You wrench your hand out of his grasp and pull it back to your side.

“Who are you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Moved in a couple years ago. I thought they were talkin’ about tearing this place down.” He nods in the direction of the house - your house.

“They - they were.” You swallow hard at the thought of losing the only real home you’ve ever known. “That’s why I came back.”

He draws back, brows furrowed. “Came back?”

“This is my house.” You glance at the back door. “I grew up here.”

His eyes follow your gaze to the window on the second floor - your childhood bedroom. When he brings his stare back to meet yours, he finds your eyes filled with unshed tears. Clearing his throat, he brings you back to reality.

“Sorry.” You wipe hastily at your eyes and shake off your emotions. “Um, anyway, you said you moved in? Moved in where exactly?”

He points to the house next door, to the Smith’s house, which you only now realize has been repainted, the shutters now a sage green while the house itself is a dusty shade of gray, all the trim and accents painted dark green. It’s beautiful, and you take a second to let it sink in that the house almost perfectly matches the colors of the forest.

The silent forest.

“Have they been doing any construction around here?” You can’t help but ask. Maybe they’re cutting down trees, disturbing whatever - whoever - lives in the forest. Maybe the voices are hiding.

Your neighbor shakes his head and frowns. “Not that I know of, and in a town this small-”

“Everybody knows everything.” You both finish the sentence in unison.

“You must’ve met Marge.” You let yourself smile fondly at the memory of Marge Wilson.

“How do you live here without meeting Marge?” He laughs.

“Man, she’s gotta be… ninety now?” Your eyes widen.

“Eighty-seven last week, actually. And still at the diner every morning.” His smile seems warm as he thinks of the sweet old lady who can’t manage to keep her nose out of anyone’s business, and always knows everything going on in Milford. 

Milford, where almost nothing has changed since you left a decade ago. Nothing except the brewery on Main Street, next door to a Starbucks. Nothing except the tattoo shops boasting fine line artwork instead of heavy-handed barbed wire tattoos. Nothing except the new neighbor mowing Mr. Walter Smith’s lawn. Nothing except everything about you. Nothing except the voices.

“Did it look like they were bringing machines in?” He breaks your train of thought, referring back to your question about construction. 

“No, no. Nothing like that.” You shake your head. “Forget it.”

He shrugs. “Well, anyway. It was nice meeting you. Just wanted to check in and make sure you were okay. I thought I heard glass break while I was on my way out.” His eyes fall to the shattered mug at your feet. 

“Oh, uh. Yeah, I’m good.” Your gaze darts to the treeline.

“Something in there?” He quirks a brow and chills leach through your body.

“N- no.” You stammer.

“Not anymore.” His tone is stern, knowing, and you can physically feel the blood drain from your face. You turn to look at him. He gives you a single nod, finally extending his arm to shake your hand, and it washes over you that you’re about to get a lot more than you asked for by moving back here.

“I’ve got some coffee on, c’mon over.” He nods toward the green house. “I think you’ve got a bit to catch up on.” Your hand, again shaking, reaches out and finds purchase in his grasp. “Name’s Dean.”

Prompt - You’ve gotten used to the voices you hear in the forest near your house. You’ve grown up with them. One day, however, there is only silence.

Feedback?

Forever Tags: @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @beththedemonhunter @blacktithe7 @caswinchester2000 @chelseadanielle19 @countrygal17a @danathewithcywoman @deanna45 @deansgirl7695 @deanwanddamons @elizzysnow13 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emoryhemsworth @esoltis280 @essie1876 @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @heartsaved @hillface89 @holyfuckloueh @hunterpuff @in-deans-arms @ladylachesis @lilredniki @linki-locks11 @mottergirl99 @mrswhozeewhatsis @notyourtypicalrose @plaid-lover-bay25 @riversong-sam @sandlee44 @sea040561 @shaelyn102 @smoothdogsgirl @soulmates8 @speakinvain @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnbaby-67 @supernatural3002 @superromjin @tumblr-tidbits @vicmc624 @voltage-my2dlove @wayward-gypsy

Dean/Jensen Tags: @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @cherrycokegirls1 @clarewinchester @dean-winchesters-bacon @deanandsamsbitch @deansgirl215 @fandom-princess-forevermore @iamabeautifulperson18 @lessons-of-red @mereka18 @princessofthefandomrealm @shamelesslydean @torn-and-frayed @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou

[hahskeleton]

Can we have some facts about the harpy au?

ask and you shall receive :)

Table of contents: Favorite things of the harpies - 1st indent Dislikes of the harpies - 2nd indent Eclipse facts - 3rd indent Moon facts - 4th indent Sun facts - 5th indent The Wisp Brothers Facts - 6th indent Y/N Facts - 7th indent AU facts - 8th indent

FAVORITE THINGS:

Eclipse: Fish, daisies, spooky stories, mangoes, woodpeckers, orange, purple, autumn, going for a fly at dusk, pumpkin seeds, y/n, throwing things into lakes (rocks, sticks etc), (more coming soon)

Moon: Bacon and eggs, reading, people watching, scarves, blue, clouds, grapes, plain (no sauce) cooked pasta noodles, stars/astronomy (more coming soon)

Sun: Marigolds, ferrets, pink roses, frogs, butterflies, waterfalls, jelly sandwiches, pumpkin pie, decorate random things, doing harmless pranks, playing his flute (more coming soon)

DISLIKES:

Eclipse: Frogs, pineapple, scorching hot days, mustard, cruel parents, his Lichtenberg Figure (big scar on his back), lightning storms, (more coming soon)

Moon: Lemons, Eclipse, crying, cats, removing his hat, winter, molting, lightning storms, (more coming soon)

Sun: Flying in bad weather, mushrooms, ruffled feathers, mildly dirty things, Moon’s night terrors, falling, being treated like a kid, (more coming soon)

Eclipse Facts:

Never liked Olympus

Absolutely HATES frogs for no apparent reason

Thinks his cave gets lonely sometimes

Has been struck by lightning (he’s got a scar now)

Loves storms but is terrified to fly in them

He’s got the groggiest voice in history (or so he claims)

Buries unloved and under-treated children in a field because their parents won’t do it themselves

Taught himself to draw (he’s not super good but… yk…)

He’s around 7.5-8 feet tall

Thinks he’s charming

Moon Facts

Is fascinated by humans

Would kill/do anything for his brother, Sun

Has never had a love interest

Hates his brother Eclipse (now)

Used to tolerate Eclipse (back then)

Has frequent night terrors causing panic attacks

His freckles glow when flustered

Absolutely hates crying

His favorite food is bacon and eggs

Is allergic to marigolds (just gets the sniffles, nothing too bad)

Used to have has a problem with plucking feathers

Sun Facts:

His favorite flowers are marigolds but Moon’s allergic to them :(

Loves to play with small animals (squirrels, frogs, butterflies, etc.)

Enjoys foraging

He’s the family cooker (until him and Moon left Eclipse)

Embodiment of anxiety

Good at hiding stress and feelings in general

Smells literally every flower he sees

Stargazing is fun for him

Never had a love interest

Always wanted a cat (Moon said no)

Wisp Brothers Facts:

They are VERY short boys and they can shrink even smaller

Lunar and Jack’s fire that they have is actually cold, not hot

they get up to a lot of shenanigans together

Lunar can get serious sometimes; Jack has no thoughts behind his eyes

Killed by [ ]

They like to visit the cabin y/n lives in

Lunar hates harpies

Jack doesn’t remember a lot of things including how he died and why Lunar hates harpy!eclipse

Lunar takes good care of Jack

Jack was supposed to be created to protect Lunar and vice versa

Y/N Facts:

They inherited their grandpa’s cabin in a village (the cabin is in the woods near the village)

uses magic

doesn’t know shit about magic (uses it anyway)

They own a Birman cat named Poncho

mythology nerd

only had one friend in the village and his name is Nathan (all the other folks hate them because they think y/n’s a witch/warlock (Nathan’s fake))

likes harpies

LOVES mangoes for no apparent reason

sort of a crazy introvert/ambivert

likes to get cozy by a fireplace with a book

they have glasses but they never wear them because they think they’re stupid looking

AU Facts

The AU’s birthday is on April 3rd

Drabbles, AO3 works, art and comics will be posted

There’s a lot of lore

Perhaps I will open a “Talk to the Harpies” event later

there’s a blog: @dca-harpy-au-blog

the creator (me) allows and loves fanart and all other things like that

(more facts coming soon)

[sweetcat3908]

Happy (Belated) Birthday to the flying squirrel!

Base made by PukoPop

https://www.deviantart.com/pukopop/art/F2U-BASE-chibi-poses-865260735

Edited by me

[empty-cryptid]

Some Isabela headcanons because it's her birthday!

She was a rambunctious child, always getting into mud and tracking it everywhere or jumping off of things she shouldn't. She definitely gave all the adults heart attacks more than once.

Her favorite animal is flying squirrels. As soon as she learned about them, she was obsessed. She has a stuffed flying squirrel that her mama made her.

She has always loved plants and as soon as she could talk, she would talk to the plants.

Her favorite flower growing up changed a lot. She loved roses once Alma started to influence her, but secretly, it was because they had thorns as well as beauty-attesting to her inner firy personality she had to constrain. After Casita fell, her favorites were the carnivorous ones like sundew or the spiney cactus plants.

Her favorite person to talk to while growing up was Pepa. They have a bond and understand how much it can hurt to lock away your true self for the benefit of others.

I think she might enjoy playing the drums.

She's very artistic and used to paint with Bruno as a little girl. She brings some art stuff over to him as an ice breaker when she's ready to get to know him again after Casita fell.

Happy Birthday Isabela 🌵

[obetrolncocktails]

Deception | Josh Kiszka X Reader | Part 4

Warnings: angst, stalking, embarrassment, miscommunication, depression, JOSH SOBBING IN HIS MOM'S ARMS, some suspicious shit, broken off engagement, foreshadowing.

Word Count: 6,243

A/N: Hey guys! It's been a while, but it's here! Prepare for your hearts to be broken and broken some more. Josh is pitiful in this chapter, and I just wanna hug him and tell him it's gonna be okay. Also, there's an OC in this fic (Hailey), who has no relation to anyone in real life, I just needed a mechanism for something....I won't give too much of it away.

Summary: They say it's not the bomb that has the lasting effect, it's the fallout. You'd shattered each other into millions of pieces, so where do you go from here? What's left to save in the wake of explosion?

“He’ll come to his senses, I know it,” Hailey, Sam’s girlfriend assured you, forking through her salad. Her demeanor was nonchalant, but her words filled you with relief, even if it was through false hope. 

“I hope so. He has every right to be hurt for what I did,” you began, leaning against the park bench, squinting your eyes as you looked into the trees above. “I lied. I didn’t tell him that I knew who he was before–before everything.” You pulled your hands up in the air in front of you, frustrated with the truth of the situation. You had spent the last half-hour explaining the very thing that had torpedoed your relationship with Josh. 

“So, you didn’t lie,” she said, chewing a large bite with her hand covering her mouth. “You just withheld information.” She shrugged, batting away a fly. You couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it would be to be able to dismiss the severity of the situation like she did. Then again, she wasn’t the perpetrator. You were. 

“Everything was just so great,” you reasoned, sighing deeply. “We were in love, we had sex for the first time.” You covered your face from the dismay and groaned into your palms. “I love him so much, and I’ve fucked it all up.”

“Just by keeping some things to yourself?” She asked, her eyebrows raised. You watched her crack open a bottle of juice. “I don’t think Josh could possibly hate you for that. Hurt? I get it, but not hate.” She shook her head for emphasis as she tilted her head back for a sip. “How did he even find out? Did you tell him in that letter? Cuz, wow. Bad timing on your part,” she said, offering a cringing expression, gritting her teeth together. 

“No, I was waiting to tell him after his birthday. I wanted him to have a great time at the party.” You realized that the beds of your nails had begun to bleed from picking at them. You rolled your hands into fists and continued. “This is so embarrassing, and unbelievable,” You began. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, turning toward you, obviously more enthused and interested than before. You didn’t make eye contact with her as you stared forward, watching as a squirrel turned to look at you before skittering away with a captured acorn. Here’s where you’d have to admit that you’d had-have a stalker. 

“Someone knew about all of it. Knew about my account. Knew that I was a fan of the boys before I ever met them,” you started, your voice thin from painful guilt and from the feeling of being violated. “Even knew that I…” you trailed off, ashamed of yourself. “That I wrote smut about them.” She nodded silently for a long moment. “That I had a following on social media–a fan account.”

“Wow,” she said finally. “That is a lot. How did anyone find out?” She asked, putting her curly hair into a loose bun. 

“I don’t know. I privated the account when I met Josh. I should have just fucking deleted it,” you admitted exasperatedly. 

“But you didn’t,” She continued. You shook your head no. 

“Nope,” you answered, staring ahead. “They stole my password, changed the authentication phone number–everything. They stalked me for an entire month and a half, threatened me, followed me, took pictures of me, and destroyed my life. I have no idea who they are, or what they want. I haven’t gotten another text, so maybe they’re happy now. They got what they wanted.”

You had left your entire lunch unattended at your side, and, glancing down, you noticed an orderly line of black ants assembling up and into the salad container. Good for them, you thought. Absolutely nothing in your body had a desire to eat, anyway. “Have you heard from Josh?” She asked after a deep sigh. “He’s been off the radar since the party.”

“No, and I don’t expect to hear from him any time soon,” you said with a shrug, a gesture that felt as if you’d been holding the weight of the world on your shoulders. “I understand.”

“You don’t feel the need to defend yourself?” She asked, her expression changing to that of confusion. 

“It’s not worth it to argue my position and lose him forever,” you decided. “I thought about writing him a letter and leaving it in his mailbox,” you shrugged again. “But I don’t know if he’d read it.”

“I think he would,” Hailey argued. “Josh loves you, Y/n. It would surprise me if he just thought that you were some traitor or something this entire time. You can’t fake love.”

You took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll see what happens. Maybe he’ll just ignore me for the rest of my life, and I’ll just move to a remote island that’s far off the grid.” Hailey snorted. 

“I don’t think you’d survive very long,” She grinned before standing up and grabbing her trash. “You didn’t even finish your lunch,” she said, turning to watch the insects feast on your salad. “Ready to grab Jita? I can’t imagine they’re still doing her hair,” she said, rolling her arm in front of her to glance at her apple watch. You nodded, taking the first step forward, tossing your uneaten meal in the nearest trash can. 

***

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jake. Do the rehearsal without me,” Josh said exasperatedly, rifling through his closet to fill a duffel bag. “I don’t really give a shit.”

“Hey man, you don’t get to speak to me like that. You signed on to be part of this band. It is your responsibility to be there. It’s on the damn contract!” Jake raised his voice slightly, but what was more intimidating was the rasp that had grown with his rising temper. “You don’t get to run away.”

“Watch me,” He seethed matter-of-factly, elbowing past his brother. Jake stood there for a long moment debating his next move.

“Can you at least tell me where you’re going? So I know you’re safe…” Jake began, stepping out of his brother’s bedroom and into the living room where Josh stood, zipping up the large bag. 

With a deep sigh he finally answered. “I’m going home. Okay?” He said, looking up at Jake. Though Josh seemed to be acting out of intense anger, Jake could see within his brother’s gaze that it was a safety mechanism. It was easier for him to be angry than it was to process how deeply hurt he was. He’d remain closed off for now, and everyone would have to be okay with that. The best path forward would be to give him the space he needed. 

“Okay,” Jake agreed calmly, nodding his head once as he placed his arms across his chest. “Please travel safely,” he insisted. 

“By the time I get back, have Y/n moved out,” Josh ordered, disregarding his brother’s concern. His eyes were blank and absent of feeling as he uttered your name. 

“Come on, Josh,” Jake attempted. “You’re not even going to speak to her?”

“She knows exactly what she did to me,” he said, hiking the bag on his shoulder. “She can go live with one of her fucked up friends.”

“Who?” Jake asked, confused. 

“I don’t know, maybe one of the thousand that write fucked up stories about us.” Josh’s eyes were wide and wild, and it almost scared Jake. 

“You’re hurt–”

“I’m not hurt,” Josh stopped his brother. “I’m fine. Really. I feel stupid. This whole thing. It’s all a fucking joke.” 

“She loves you, Josh. You can’t just throw your entire relationship away–tell me how that makes any sense.”

“I know you think you’re being helpful, Jake, but I don’t want to hear it. I have a flight to catch. I’ll text you when I land.” With that, he was up and walking out of the door. Jake followed his brother out of the house. “And I meant what I said about her moving out,” he finished, before closing and locking the door behind him. 

“Okay,” Jake swallowed, regretting that he had to be the one to relay such painful information back to you. “You sure you don’t need a ride to the airport?” Jake offered. “I could spare the half-hour.” Josh shook his head. 

“No. I love you, but I’m fine. I want to be alone.” With that, Jake left his brother to back out of his own driveway toward the airport, following him until he had to make the turn toward his own house. 

***

Danny’s house was beautiful, but it didn’t feel like home. You no longer had your own apartment, your parents lived hundreds of miles away, and couch-surfing with friends would only be a viable option for a few more days. You knew that while you were at his house, you wouldn’t be a bother to Danny. You had missed several days of work already, and had stayed to yourself in his spare bedroom until the growling in your stomach became so severe, you were forced to pull yourself from your depression hole of a bed. 

 You heard your phone ping from beside you, and you reached for it. It was Hailey. 

“Hey babe, what are you doing today?”

 You had half a mind to respond,“Oh, you know, loving life,” but you refrained, instead typing “I have nothing planned. I’ve been laying in bed all morning. Please save me from my own depression pit.”

With the motivation of possibly getting out of the house, you stumbled to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror, and instantly regretted it. You were surprised that it didn’t crack just by the sight of you. Your hair had never looked worse, and your eyes were extremely puffy. Your cheeks had begun to break out from the stress of the last week. Sighing deeply, you forced yourself to take a shower, cranking on the faucet of the and waiting for the water to heat up. 

You weren’t sure how long you spent in the shower, but it was long enough for the searingly-hot water supply to turn ice cold, forcibly removing you from underneath it. 

“Y/n!” Danny called from downstairs. “I’m making some lunch, want something?” 

You cracked open the bathroom door and shouted back down to him. 

“Sure, anything you make is great!” 

“Cool, cool!” He responded casually. 

You stepped out of the bathroom, taking care to not slip as you dripped water onto the hardwood floor. You cursed yourself for not being patient and drying off adequately. 

“I figured we could go shopping, or do something to get your mind off things,” Hailey had texted back. 

You began to compose a message back to her. “Yeah, I think some shopping and walking around would help. Maybe we could talk about some things. Not sure who I can really turn to right now, you know? I don’t want to involve the boys, specifically Danny, more than he’s already involved. Josh is already pissed at him.”

“Just us! Don’t worry. We’ll make it a you and me day,” She texted, finishing with a heart emoji. 

“Meet at Danny’s in half an hour?” You asked, and she instantly answered back. 

“Sounds great!”

You tossed your phone onto the bed and heard it thump into the covers. You hadn’t spent much time with Hailey alone since she and Sam had started dating. Usually she would hang out with her local friends, and occasionally you and Jita would tag along with Hailey and you’d do something together. The lunch you had shared in the park the other day had felt kind of strange, but at the same time it was relieving to vent to someone who wasn’t directly in communication to Josh. Hailey was very responsive with everything you had to say, and for the most part, she didn’t seem to be judgmental, which surprised you. Something about her always made you feel a bit uneasy about getting too close. Now that you had chosen to lean on her for support, maybe she’d be just what you needed.

After getting dressed and brushing your resisting tresses into a ponytail, you grabbed your phone again, absently scrolling through tiktok, your heart thudding in your chest when a fan-made tiktok of Josh appeared on your FYP. You sighed deeply, and threw your phone back down on the bed, but decided after a long moment to pick it back up. You hadn’t tried to reach out to Josh in the last few days. His broken expression at the party had terrified you, broken your heart, and left you paralyzed to even know how to begin to explain the whole truth to him. Opening a new message to him, which you hoped would be delivered– God willing he hadn’t blocked your number. You took the gamble anyway and began a message. 

“I know you don’t want to talk, or really have anything to do with me, but I need you to know that I do love you, Josh. I love you with everything I have. Every bone in my body, every breath I take–is for you. You found out something I had kept from you for a while, but I intended to tell you. I wanted to tell you, until someone stole that from me. I’ve been stalked by someone for more than a month, and they threatened me over and over again. They had photos of me–” You deleted the last phrase for fear of going on too long. 

“Please don’t end things like this–this silence is not like you. Even if you’re angry, and hurt, which I know you are. Please talk to me. Please. I have made mistakes, but the one mistake I didn’t make was falling in love with you.”  You hit send. You felt as if someone had dropped the weight of the world back on your shoulders, and there was nothing you could do about it. So, for now you’d pretend to be okay. You walked downstairs and began to prepare for the day, shoving down the despair for a little while longer. 

***

Delivered. 

Josh had turned off read receipts to all of his usual contacts. He didn’t want to talk or entertain them. He simply wanted to disappear. As soon as his flight landed, he pulled his duffle bag off of the plane and retrieved a rental car, putting it into drive and almost immediately getting back on the road. Within an hour, he had pulled into the familiar town, passing the buildings and businesses that he had frequented his entire childhood and adolescence. He wanted to bring you here. He wanted to bring you back to his hometown, and show you everything that had made him into the person he had become. Now, all of those wants were thrown into the air with so much confusion, hurt and anger, that he had no idea what to do with it all. He finished the rest of the drive by forcing himself to tune out the sentimental thoughts that pried at him, the beautiful Michigan scenery rushing by without another thought. Occasionally through the drive, he swiped away the tears that betrayed his shredding composure. He knew this route by memory, having memorized every turn, every redlight and passing sign. And there it was.

As he approached the house, it took everything in him to not fall apart in the front yard. Stepping out of his car, he reached in and grabbed his bag and trudged up the stairs to the entrance of his childhood home, ringing the doorbell, which felt incredibly strange in the moment. Within seconds, Karen opened the door, her eyes wide as she discovered her son on the front steps, his eyes welling with tears. 

“Josh? Honey…”

“Mama–” Was all he could say before letting go. His mother was the one person in the entire world that he couldn’t, and wouldn’t lie to. No matter how hard he had tried, he couldn’t hide how utterly destroyed he was. 

“Oh, baby,” she comforted, pulling her arms around her son as he sobbed over her shoulder, his embrace so desperate and tight–as if he clung to her as hard as he could, he’d wake from whatever terrible dream he was having. His sobs ran loud and free for the first time since his birthday party, and Karen stood there with him in the heavy silence, holding him, her hands rubbing long lines up and down his back in a soothing pattern. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re home,” She murmured softly, kissing his head over and over, rocking him back and forth in the afternoon sun. They stood there for a long time, Josh’s sobs slowing over time into choked sniffles. When they finally parted, Josh’s face had grown intensely swollen, his eyes exceptionally puffy, and his face reddened with exertion. 

“Come inside,” Karen said after another moment. 

“What’s going on?” Kelly asked, spinning around in the recliner in the living room. “Josh?” He asked, standing up and walking into the kitchen. 

“Hey Dad,” Josh offered with a tearful smile, wrapping his arms around his father, who returned the hug firmly, patting his son’s back. 

“I’m sorry about your girl–about everything, you know,” he said, attempting conversation, as much as Josh would allow. Josh offered a simple nod in response. 

“Did you come by yourself?” He asked, his eyes glancing at the front door. 

“I wanted to come alone,” Josh said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “I really just needed to be away from everything. Out of Nashville.” Josh wiped the wetness of his tears from his face on his pants and continued. “I just–” He shrugged, unable to explain further. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Karen comforted him. “You know you’re always welcome to come home. We miss you when you’re gone, you know.” She took Josh’s hand, rubbing her thumb over the tops of his knuckles. 

“I made soup for dinner,” She mentioned, turning over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “It’s in the crockpot. Let me make you a bowl,” She insisted. 

“I’m fine, Mom,” Josh assured her.

“No. You’re going to eat. You don’t eat when you’re upset. I’m your mom, and I know you well. Eat this bowl, and I won’t bother you again tonight about it. Can you do that for me?” She asked, eyeing him sternly. Even in his fragile state, she still parented him like she always had, and in a way, though Josh would never admit it, it made him feel the tiniest bit better. 

“Yes, Mama.” 

“Can you put ice in glasses?” She asked as she ladled portions into bowls. He did as he was told, bringing out the glasses and filling them with ice.

“We’ll just eat in the living room,” she explained. “No need to set the table.” 

Being home quieted the hurt for a little while. His mom and dad loved him more than anything in the world, aside from his brothers and sister, and they did a good job showing it. 

“Your sister was here earlier. She’s visiting for a few days before heading back out to LA,” Kelly explained, spooning food into his mouth. “She’s doing the whole fashion thing,” he continued. It had been a long time since Josh had seen Ronnie, and though he was in pathetic shape tonight, he’d most definitely want to see her before he left for Nashville. 

The rest of the night was quiet, and Josh spent the evening curled into his mother, watching a movie as she mindlessly combed her fingers through his hair. After a while, he fell asleep, calmed into slumber by her nurturing spirit. 

“Josh, honey,” she said after a while, stretching through a yawn. “I’m going to head to bed,” she mentioned, rubbing his back to rouse him from sleep. 

“Hm?” he asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Oh,” he responded, looking around into the dimly-lit living room, deciding that he, too, was far too tired to stay awake any longer. 

“Me too, mama,” he agreed softly, standing up and stretching his limbs with a low groan. 

“Dad put sheets on your bed,” she told him, standing up and reaching for the remote to turn off the TV. “I’ll see you in the morning, sweetie. Thanks for coming home,” she smiled softly, stepping over to give her son a long, firm hug. “I love you so much,” she spoke. “And I’m sorry you’re hurting, honey.”

Josh squeezed his mother tightly, laying his head on her shoulder as she spoke. “I missed you, Mama,” he admitted, feeling emotion cause his throat to ache from the possibility of crying again. He cleared his throat and began once more. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too, baby. Get some sleep,” she said, planting a soft kiss on his cheek before stepping down the hall to her bedroom. 

In his childhood bed, Josh fell asleep almost instantly, suspended within the most restful sleep he’d had since the birthday party. Between the crickets chirping and the whir of his ceiling fan, he let his thoughts wander into a mindless drone of noise.

***

“Knock knock.” Josh’s eyes cracked open, squinting from the light cutting through the curtains into the bedroom. 

“Mom said you still weren’t up.” Josh felt the mattress sink towards his feet and turned to see his sister sitting cross legged at the end of the bed. 

Josh groaned, gazing at Ronnie, waiting for his eyes to adjust to a new day. “No peace,” he said softly and grumbly. “I get no peace anywhere.”

Ronnie moved to plop on top of Josh, chuckling when he groaned even more. “Get up!” She pushed, jostling him by the shoulder. “Mom told me what happened, and it’s my job to get you out of the house.”

“Let me mope in peace,” he grunted, reaching for the closest pillow, pulling it over his face. 

“Nope,” she insisted, stepping off of the bed to pull her brother by the arm. “Come on,” she grunted from the resistance that Josh’s weight posed. 

“Fine, fine! Ow!” He complained, stumbling out of his sheets. “Are you happy now?” He asked, scratching his head sleepily. 

“Very. Wake up and get ready,” Ronnie told Josh. “We’re going on a hike. You can’t say no.”

“No.” He said, leaning toward his sister, speaking just beyond the curve of her ear. 

“Ugh, you’ve got morning breath,” she said, scrunching up her face. To Josh’s amusement, he made a point to huff a deep puff of air into her face, chuckling when she swiped at the air with disgust. 

“You’re going, even if I have to drag you,” she said, stepping into the kitchen where Karen stood, cooking breakfast. 

“Going where?” she asked, turning over her shoulder as she worked on a batch of scrambled eggs. 

“I’m making him go hiking with me,” Ronnie announced matter-of-factly, a casual smile spread across her face as she shrugged. She walked over to the barstools at the island, and Josh followed, plopping down beside her. “Do I have permission to drag him out of the house?” She asked, echoing her warning to Josh. 

“Only if he doesn’t come back whining to me about it,” Karen said, grinning. “Josh, you should go. It will be good for you to get out of the house,” she said. “How do you want your eggs?” She asked, turning back to the pan. 

“Fried over medium. I’ll just make a sandwich if you’ll make the eggs,” he said, getting up to place two pieces of bread in the toaster. “Where are we even going?” He asked, turning to his sister. “There aren't really any places to hike,” he argued.

“Okay, we will be walking, but still,” Ronnie said, reaching for her plate as Karen handed it over the counter. 

Josh stepped behind his mother, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of orange juice. “Okay,” he agreed, taking a swig out of the container. 

“Joshua!” Karen scolded, turning and attempting to swat him with the now-cold spatula. Josh dodged his mother with a grin and a chuckle, plopping down in his seat beside his sister. 

***

“It’s been forever since I’ve been down here,” Josh admitted, looking out beyond the trail, watching birds stir from the comfort of their languid, sleepy pond, batting their wings and taking the air, flying high up into the sky, disappearing behind the alpine trees. “Probably since high school,” he said after a moment. 

“It’s been a long time for me too,” Ronnie admitted. The trail was only a mile from their house. Growing up, the kids had taken turns throughout the years of finding refuge in nature, taking the time to think and work through anything that may have been troubling them. Now, when Josh wouldn’t have thought twice to come back to this place, Ronnie had quite literally dragged him back to his roots, reminding him of the quaint protection that this area had served all those years ago. 

They were quiet as they walked together side by side, Josh kicking a worse-for-wear pinecone down the paved walkway. The asphalt was littered with a thin layer of pine straw, disguising the man-made trail underneath it. “So,” Ronnie began. 

He looked at her without a word, waiting for what she was going to say next. “You’re really not yourself right now,” she finally said, sighing. “Tell me what happened. Please.”

“There’s nothing really to tell,” Josh shrugged. Ronnie rejected his poor explanation instantly. 

“That’s not true in the slightest. You come home barely once a year these days,” she explained, stopping on the trail to turn to him with her hands on her hips. “If you’re here, I know it has to be bad,” she continued. “So tell me what happened.” 

It took much coaxing, but after a while, Josh began to open up, beginning somewhere in the beginning of the relationship. “Everything about her just makes sense–or made sense. She was so special. She understood me. She’s patient, funny, beautiful–” Josh continued, struggling to keep his tenses consistent, caught within the uncertainty of the current standing of his relationship. Ronnie nodded, arriving at the first bench, and sat down. Josh joined her and continued. “Since the beginning, we couldn’t get enough of each other, and it wasn’t like infatuation or anything like that,” he said, pulling off his Kavu hat to tangle his fingers into his unkempt curls. “She just knew me. She got me. I’d never ever had that before,” he said, his eyes cast down as he picked at the seam of his shorts. “Not in the way that left me thinking about her every single night. She’s my best friend.” Ronnie could hear the hurt in Josh’s voice, how the last words had crackled as they came out. 

“And what happened for that to change?” She pushed. 

“I don’t know how to explain–it’s so weird, I can’t–”

“Tell me one thing at a time,” she said softly, crossing her legs under her as she adjusted in her seat. “Take your time.”

“At my party, she handed me a card,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing as he remembered. “And she was smiling and so happy–I thought it was a birthday card.” his hands lifted in front of him, before dropping to his lap defeatedly. 

“Inside, there was a letter that said that Y/n knew who I was before we even knew each other. She wrote–she was–” he got hung up on his words. “She wrote stories about me. About the band.” Ronnie nodded slowly, understanding. “She had a whole dedicated blog about me– about the band, I mean.” Ronnie watched as Josh fidgeted with his clothing. “She lied. She led me on to believe she had no idea who I was when we met. The entire time we were together, she was a fan, not a stranger. I feel so–dirty? I don’t know.” 

“So she told you in the letter?” Ronnie asked, picking apart the situation one piece at a time, trying her best to understand. 

“No, it wasn’t her handwriting. It looked familiar, but it wasn’t hers. There were printed out pictures of her writing–screenshots of her blog, I guess.”

Ronnie let silence wash over the conversation for a long moment. “Josh,” she said, mostly as a statement. 

“Yes?” He asked. She looked out at the scenery in front of them. “Do you love her?” She asked, turning to look him in the eyes. 

“What?” He asked, though he heard exactly what she said. 

“Do you still love Y/n? Because so far, you’ve spent way more time telling me about the amazing things than you really have about the bad parts,” she said, tucking stray hairs behind her ears. 

He stopped for a moment and sighed. “Of course I love her, Ron,” he said. “Hell, I was going to propose to her at the party,” he continued. “But she ruined it.” She let the sting of his words calm before continuing.

“What’s the most hurtful thing about this whole– you know?” Ronnie asked. 

“I just feel lied to, and led on,” he admitted, rubbing his chin in an attempt to pacify and comfort the vulnerable feelings. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“She didn’t really lie to you, exactly.” She said, squinting from the intense sunlight, turning to look at Josh. “Yes, she should have told you, but I can imagine that wouldn’t have been an exactly easy conversation to have,” she admitted. “And even so, it’s so embarrassing. Do you really think Y/n had this drawn-out plot to find you and make you fall in love with her? You’re many things Josh, but you’re not an idiot,” She said, punching him gently in the shoulder. He offered a half-smile. 

“I don’t know what I expected,” he answered. 

“Maybe she didn’t expect to ever meet you in real life. And–maybe she fell in love with you honestly. It didn’t matter that you are famous, or that it was you that she fell in love with.” She shrugged. “Have you ever considered that might be the case?” She asked. 

Josh shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“How did you guys meet?” She asked out of curiosity. 

“At the grocery store. On the pasta aisle,” he grinned, embarrassed. 

“Who spoke first?” She asked, as if scoping out Josh’s concerns, walking them back to the very beginning of the relationship. 

“I did,” He admitted. “She chose Rao’s sauce,” he grinned, nodding. “Girl has good taste.”

Ronnie chuckled through her nose. “You’re a loser.”

“How did she react when she met you?” She asked, moving further down her list of questions.

“She couldn’t speak straight, but she smiled so wide. She was funny–clever. Something about her just screamed to me that she was a good person, an interesting person,” He went on. “We clicked instantly. So much so that I didn’t bother getting her number. I knew I’d see her again.”

“And?”

“And I did. At the bar a few weeks later,” He went on. 

“Did she know that you were there?” She asked. 

“No, I don’t think so. She was with friends,” Josh continued. “From that night on, I just knew that it was her. I would have never told her, but I just knew it.”

“So do you really think she was pretending the entire time?” She asked finally. 

Josh was silent, trying his best to find words to say.

“Josh,” She began again. “What is the one thing that the world needs more of? You always say it.”

“Love,” he said, eyeing his sister with a suspicious rise in his brow.

“Did you even let her explain everything? Give her time to tell you all of it?” Josh shook his head, looking off in the distance. “Nope.”

“Why not?” She asked. 

“Because in the moment, I felt so violated that I couldn’t even look at her. I mean, I had the ring in my pocket, Ron.” 

“If you had the ring and were ready to propose, that tells me you were prepared to spend your life with her,” she replied. “You’re not a casual person, Josh. You never have been. Are you really willing to throw away what could be the love of your life over something she obviously feels awful about?” 

There was another long silence, save for the wind brushing through the trees. 

“And it doesn't make sense how you even found out about it,” she continued. “Who told you? Who wrote that card?” 

“I don’t know,” he explained. “Honestly, I didn’t even think about it,” he explained. “I knew Y/n didn’t know that it had been switched, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I just wanted to leave.”

“I’m going to be very honest with you. I don’t think it’s very fair to Y/n to believe everything you were shown at first glance, and then not even know where the information was coming from, even if it was true.” She delivered her opinion honestly, but still remained careful. 

“Danny knew about it. He knew everything.”

“Josh, it’s Danny we’re talking about. Do you really think he would betray you by siding with a crazy stalker fan?” Josh stared straight ahead, picking nervously at his cuticles. His gaze fell, staring down at the ground for a long time.  “You’re no longer the kid from Frankenmuth who sings in choir and gets the lead in musicals. You’re not a nobody.”

“Wow, thanks,” he said with a sarcastic chuckle. 

“You’re famous, Josh,” She continued. “And you’re becoming well-known in circles you probably never expected or dreamed of.” Josh nodded. “I don’t think it’s fair to place that expectation on your partner–to be a perfect stranger who’s never heard of you, even if that is how you think you’d want to meet them. If it ends up happening that way, cool, but don’t determine the end of your story together based on how it started.”

“I just didn’t want to be known for my music when it came to stuff like that,” Josh explained, visibly disappointed. 

“And why’s that?” She asked, crossing her legs as she adjusted in her seat. “Don’t you think that your music is an extension of who you are as a person?” 

“Yes, but that’s not what I mean,” He said. “I just want her to love me for being me, and I felt like she did, but now, I feel like I’m questioning everything.”

“You know what you need to do. You’re upset, and rightfully so, but I don’t think you’re upset that Y/n was a fan of yours. I don’t think that at all. You’re upset because she didn’t feel like she could tell you the truth. You’re hurt that you had to find out the way you did. You wish you’d heard her tell you first, and not in front of your closest family and friends. That was wrong.” Ronnie’s words were hitting home for Josh, and it was exactly what he needed to hear. 

“You can be hurt by someone and still love them. You can be hurt by someone and still want to be with them and work through things. I can’t tell you what to do,” She said, standing up from the bench. “But I can tell you that the brother I know would have told me the exact same thing. You would have told me to trust my gut, and lead with love, even if you end up getting hurt in the end. So,” She said, stepping forward and placing her hands on his shoulders. “You need to go home and talk to her–and you need to decide now if you love each other enough to move past this.” 

“Who taught you to be so wise?” He asked, his lip curling with enthusiasm. 

“Mom and Dad,” she answered with a grin. “But I’ll throw your name in there if it makes you feel better,” She finished. 

“I love you,” he said, pulling her in for a long, well-needed hug. 

“I love you too, turd,” she answered playfully, squeezing her brother tight. “I know you’ll make the right decision.”

“I hope I will,” he said, already lost in thought. 

“I know you will,” she repeated. “You’re Josh. You’re always the heart of everything.” Josh couldn’t exactly understand why it had made him so emotional, but Ronnie’s words had simultaneously shattered the rest of him, and repaired the broken pieces all at once. You’re always the heart of everything. He’d continue to be that person, even if it meant that he would hurt in the end. 

“I’m going back to Nashville,” He announced, clearing his throat, working through the emotion.  “I need to fix this.” He swallowed, straightening his posture as he stood up. 

With a keen eye for departing flights, Josh had cancelled and rebooked the soonest one he could find, opting for a less than ideal airline and paying an exorbitant amount of fees, but he didn’t care. He’d determined that through all of the hurt, he still couldn’t tell himself that he didn’t care about you, and no amount of convincing himself would stop him from loving you–being in love with you.

Touching down in Nashville that next morning, he booked it to his house as quickly as he could. 

He was coming home to you–if you were still home, for that matter. 

End of Part 4.

Taglist: @doodle417 @watchingovergvf2@capturethechaos @sammyfuckingkiszka @ace-harrington @gvfvanfleet @flo-gvf @sacredthefran @jjwrites @jmkho @joshsindigostreak @gold-mines-melting @allieisacrybaby @sammysprincess@gretavansara @dannythedog@demolitionndann @gretasmokerising @shesawomaninadream @sonicbaptism @vixenstail @hearts-hunger @malany-gvf @cal-a-bungaa @rhythm-of-space @alwaysonthemend@meetingthestardust@ageofsinners @katelynn-gvf @ageofwagner @dannythedog @allieisacrybaby@sacredthethreadgvf @takenbythemadness @st4rdust-ch0rds @joshysgirl @gvfvanfleet @gretasfallingsky @madneedshelp @lipstickitty @demolitionndann @myownparadise96 @meetingthestardust @vanfleeter @gold-mines-melting @sacredthefran @mini-vann @sacredthethreadgvf @love-and-greta @gretafaninheat @positivegvfthings @loveisonaroll @writingcold @tearsofjosh @meetingthestarcatchers @fallonfatality @puzzle-gvf @takenbythemadness

[auxiliarydetective]

who would be your one piece ocs's godly parents if they had one?

Ooooh this ask is the perfect birthday gift, thank you! <3

Aurelia's godly parent would be Hera, hands down. They're similar in personality and both have a peacock as their significant animal. Additionally, Aurelia's position of power mirrors that of Hera as the queen of the gods and Aurelia's marriage bond with Mihawk... need I say anything else? Hera wishes Zeus were like that.

Cora's godly parent would be Athena, not because she's a war deity but because she's a patron of the arts, especially weaving, and presumably also sewing - which is obviously Cora's main thing. Even Athena's status as a war deity fits Cora though, because Athena is more tricky, strategic and wise than Ares, which is pretty accurate to how Cora fights when compared to Zoro, for example. Cora wins her fights not through strength but through strategy and trickery, which is a very Athena-esque quality, I'd say.

Lily's godly parent should really be Hebe since Hebe is the goddess of youth and has the ability make people young again, so this really suits Lily. On the other hand though, I could really see her as a daughter of Dionysus. Let me explain: Dionysos isn't just the god of wine, he's also the god of festivity and madness and he has control over emotions - and Lily is famously very emotional. Her devil fruit powers are a lot like the kind of shenanigans Dionysus would come up with. Also, he's often described as having animalistic features, which suits Lily being a half-mink.

Inari is a tough one but I decided to go for Apollo. Why? Because Apollo is linked to the gift of prophecy and the inner eye and Inari's third eye could technically give her such an ability. Also, Inari is surprisingly linked to the arts if you think about it. She plays the shamisen and her weapon of choice is a war fan or tessen, with fans being usually used for dance. Also, it just fits, okay?

Kaede would have to be a daughter of Artemis. Artemis is a goddess of archery, which is Kaede's main form of combat and a skill she takes pride in, she's the moon goddess and Kaede does her robberies by moonlight, she's the guardian of the woods and flying squirrels live in the woods, and she rejects typical roles for women in society, which is also true for Kaede.

Kan-chan I see as a daughter of Hypnos, the embodiment of sleep, for her own unique ability to send people to sleep, but also because Hypnos is generally a very benevolent god.

Luna's godly parent is Selene as the titaness of the moon or "Mother Moon", no discussion there.

Lux's godly parent would be Hephaistos because Lux is a mechanic which fits Hephaistos as a blacksmith and metalworker. But Hephaistos is also an intelligent trickster, which a lot of people tend to forget - and this also suits Lux.

Sonoko's godly parent, finally, would be Mars. Remember how I said Athena embodied the strategic elements of war and trickery? Well, Ares embodies the physical aspects and even downright bloodlust, but also courage and valor. Those last two aspects are the ones that persuaded me to pick Ares for Sonoko, but the physical aspects of war are also pretty fitting for her since she is pretty reliant on strength, though she would rarely ever let herself descend into bloodlust. Additionally, it just makes sense with how Sonoko's loyalty is to the man who taught her how to fight and be a warrior with honor and dignity instead of the Marines and their army mentality since Ares is more about individual prowess.

Thank you so much for your ask! Have a lovely day <3

[teecupangel]

So I remember a post that I think you had about the assassin ancestor reborn in the modern day as animals and I want to see the Frye twins reborn as rooks eivor as a raven Edward a jackdaw that teams up with his fluffy cat son and Desmond being a Disney princess

Here’s the “Desmond’s ancestors gets reborn into the future as animals” idea me and @saberamane had https://www.tumblr.com/teecupangel/719043682766077952/how-about-a-reverse-of-animal-desmond-in-the-past with Altaïr as the eagle, Ezio as the bear and Ratonhnhaké:ton as the wolf (that Desmond keeps telling people is a dog even when he knew that he was a wolf). The other ancestors: Aquilus as a dog who stayed on the Farm to help Desmond escape, Haytham as a pure white fluffy cat and Edward was either a fish or a jackdaw (so we’re picking Jackdaw for this).

Other than them, I suggested the following:

Shay as a crow because of Morrígan’s primary ‘forms’

Arno as a sea otter because he shares his birthday with Rosa the Sea Otter XD

Jacob and Evie I thought of as corgis as a reference to Desmond the Dog but making them rooks would be fun. Or maybe… to mess with them. Jacob gets turned into a corgi but Evie gets turned into a rook so we have Jacob complaining that it’s not fair that Evie is the rook when the Rooks is his thing! XD

Bayek as a ram as a reference to how Amun is usually symbolized by the ram-headed sphinx.

Aya as the kind of snake she got the venom she gave to Cleopatra.

Kassandra I was going for goat because Adrestia gave goat’s milk to Zeus when he was a baby and… also… it would be funny if she thought she was being punished for the whole eye on the goat’s awss incident XD

Eivor is a raven that looks exactly like the default skin of Sýnin.

Additional ideas!

Aveline could mean ‘little bird’ so maybe some sort of small bird like a humming bird?

Adéwalé as a panther or a lion, maybe?

Nikolai as a sable.

Arbaaz as a barasingha.

Shao Jun as a red panda? Or a Chinese mountain cat?

Basim as a persian squirrel that Eivor can just grab with her beak and fly away XD

If we want Desmond to be a Disney Princess before the end of AC3, we can have them start showing up when Desmond is already in Turin. They got in the Grand Temple and Shaun is freaking out because he knows this is all Desmond’s fault but he can’t find a way to confirm it!

[cityofjieun]

★ . . . . jia's profile !!!

☆ basic info

stage name : jia ☆ 지아

birth name : kang jieun ☆ 강지은

english name : jaclyn kang

nickname(s) :

everyday: jackie, lyn skz-given: jack-jack, jieunnie stay-given: ji, nini, jiramjie

birthday : june 12th, 2001

zodiac sign : gemini

hometown : los angeles, california

nationality : korean-american

family : mother + father + brother (twin)

languages spoken : english (native), korean (fluent), french (conversational) and spanish ( conversational)

☆ physical

height : 165 cm (5'7'')

blood type : o+

body modification(s) : 2 lobe piercings and a left cartilage

☆ claims

face claim : choi yerim

voice claim : g1nger

dance claim : phoria

☆ personality

zodiac signs : gemini sun / pisces moon / cancer rising / tarus venus

mbti : enfj

mbti type : charismatic people who take care of their loved ones and try to grow personally

positive traits : tolerant, reliable, charismatic, altruistic, natural leader

negative traits : overly idealistic, too selfless, too sensitive, fluctuating self-esteem, struggle to make tough decisions

☆ statics

dance : ■■■■□

vocal : ■■■□□

rap : ■■■□□

stage presence : ■■■■□

variety : ■■■□□

songwriting : ■■■□□

acting : ■■■■■

☆ career informations

stage name : jia

agency : jyp entertainment

group : stray kids

debut date : march 25, 2018

position(s) : vocalist and dancer

representative emoji : 🦇

☆ trivia

started ballet when she was four.

she was referred to a JYP audition by a family friend that knew a recruiter.

her role models are snsd's hyoyeon, beyonce, and bibi.

went to the same middle school as tbz eric.

she prefers to be called jieun or jackie.

she originally wanted to go by jaclyn, but jyp pushed for jia as they already had a member with a foreign name ,

her skzoo is a flying squirrel named jiaramjie.

her motto: "laissez les bons temps rouler" ( let the good times roll )

©︎ cityofjieun, all rights reserved. pls, do not copy or repost my work.